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blog-o-meter · 1 month ago

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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)

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nereidprinc3ss · 11 months ago

Note

okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.”

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief.

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.”

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.”

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication.

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest.

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.”

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest.

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.”

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you.

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.”

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there.

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday.

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

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence.

“Can we talk?”

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph.

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?”

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!”

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth.

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with.

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.”

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?”

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins.

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.”

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.”

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?”

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad.

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you.

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.”

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake.

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered.

“Are you still mad at me?”

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm.

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.”

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.”

He chuckles.

“At an entirely different university.”

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident.

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.”

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?”

Spencer sighs.

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.”

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin.

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected.

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.”

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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wlntrsldler · 10 months ago

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poisoned mercury | check yes, juliet

a/n: poisoned mercury is officially over halfway finished! i'll be posting poisoned mercury playlists soon! pls continue to send me songs that remind you of this series. i'm running out of songs to use as titles. thank u for all the love on this fic <3

series masterlist | previous | next

vi. check yes, juliet by we the kings

“where are we going?”

“are you going to ask that every two seconds?”

“you kidnapped me, castellan.”

luke stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow at you. you were about a quarter mile away from camp now, and it seemed like every ten steps, you asked him the same question. if he didn’t find you so cute, he would turn around and walk straight back to camp.

“i will throw you over my shoulder and carry you the rest of the way there, five star,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes teasingly. he wasn’t opposed to the idea, but by the look on your face, you certainly were. “don’t test me.”

“and i will scream bloody murder if you do,” you narrowed your eyes at him in a challenging manner.

“here i am, trying to do something nice for you and you accuse me of kidnapping you,” luke continued his steps, slowing down to let you catch up to him. he didn’t realize how much shorter you were than him. the top of your head just went past his shoulders, but your personality made up for the difference. “we’re almost there, keep up.”

“not everyone has long legs, castellan,” you huffed, increasing your pace. “slow down.”

“do you want to get there or not?” he asked, throwing you a teasing smile over his shoulder. you guys really needed to get there soon. the sun was beginning to set and he didn’t want you to have to walk in the dark, even if he was with you. your safety came first, above everything, and he wasn’t gonna put you in a potentially dangerous situation.

you whined, tugging on the side of his t-shirt, “how much longer?”

“that’s it,” luke declared, squatting down to throw you over his shoulder. you squealed, hitting his back with your balled up fists. he knew you didn’t do it to hurt him. he can feel you pulling your punches.

you felt the vibrations from his laughter on his back. luke was enjoying this too much. he carried you over his shoulder like it was nothing. perhaps all those morning workouts were paying off. you twisted your neck to scold him, thankful that he couldn’t see the smile on your lips, “put me down, i swear to god.”

“nope,” he replied, popping the ‘p.’ he tapped your calf with his fingers, “it’s just around the corner.”

luke put you down in front of a building. there were five store fronts, three of which had faulty neon lights. you could barely make out the store names. the other two stores had signs up declaring vacancy. it was a little sketchy, but luke seemed to love it. he had his hands on his hips, staring up at the sign that seemed to say “achilles arcade.”

“what is this place?” luke held the door open for you as you wandered inside the store. the place was dimly lit with old-school arcade games lining the walls. an old man was sitting on a stool behind the counter, reading the morning paper.

“just wait,” luke grinned, pulling on your hand to lead you to get some tokens, “chiron! my man.”

the man placed the newspaper on the surface, eyes lighting up at the sound of luke’s voice. he beamed, “luke castellan! i was afraid you weren’t gonna come back.”

“you know i keep my promises,” luke let go of your hand, introducing you to chiron, “chiron, this is yn. she goes to camp with me.”

“pleasure to meet you,” he tipped his head, reaching under the counter to dig out a bucket full of golden tokens.

you took out your wallet, “how much do we owe you?”

“on the house,” he waved off, “he donated a ridiculous sum of money to keep this place up and running. too generous, this one, so it wouldn’t be right for me to charge you when he’s keeping me in business.”

luke shook his head, sliding a hundred across the counter anyway. he took your wallet and stuffed it in his back pocket, knowing that you’ll probably try to slip him some cash if he didn’t. you grumbled, but decided not to pick a fight. it didn’t seem like one you’d win.

luke grabbed the bucket by the handle and turned to you, “where do you want to start, five star?”

“you took me to an arcade?”

“yeah,” luke said, sheepishly, “whenever i run out of cigs, i always go to an arcade to keep my mind off things. it’s childish, but it works. figured you could try it. plus, there’s a smoke shop across the street so we can go there when we’re done here.”

“only one thing is better than the feeling of a new cherry ice vape,” you got close to him, nearly toe to toe. luke could smell the perfume on your skin, the scent of your shampoo, and his cologne that lingered on the hoodie of his that you wore. he reminded you that you always got cold and that you should bring a sweater, but you assured him that you wouldn’t. halfway to the arcade, you were shivering and luke knew that he made the right decision bringing his hoodie with him.

you rolled your eyes, but accepted it. his hoodie stopped mid-thigh and engulfed you, but it looked better on you than it ever did on him. something about you wearing a hoodie that had his band name on it made his heart skip a beat. he had to listen to you make fun of him for tripping over air after he saw you in his clothes, but he didn’t expect anything less from you.

he licked his lips, eyes darting to your own, “and what is that, five star?”

“beating your ass at galaga.”

luke’s laughter echoed throughout the empty arcade as you ran from him with the tokens in your hand. you looked back at him with a mischievous smile on your face and he felt his heartstrings tug in his chest. you stuck your tongue out at him, starting the game as he stayed in his spot, admiring you.

there weren’t many moments where he could be out in public like this, so when his mom reluctantly agreed to stop at this building on the way to camp due to a flat tire, luke and the boys were ecstatic to find that there was an empty arcade hidden in montauk. luke talked to chiron and learned his story while the boys played random games to kill the time. luke found out that the arcade wasn’t doing well financially with the increase in rent prices and that they would have to close down at the end of the summer if things don’t pick up again. chiron mentioned that he and his partner started this business twenty years ago, and he was sad to see it go.

luke excused himself and snuck back into the tour bus to grab his checkbook. he wrote a check that covered rent and other expenses for the year and gave it to chiron. of course the man refused it, but luke wasn’t taking no for an answer, not after chiron shared that the arcade was the last living piece of his partner. luke castellan was a hopeless romantic, which not many people knew. he knew he was done for the minute he heard their love story.

he stood there for a few moments, watching as you cheered, dodging the blasts of your enemies. you were so animated while you played, so expressive with your eyes and your voice. he’d only seen you like this a handful of times, talking to clarisse about god knows what, talking to the younger campers and asking them questions about their projects and interests, and when you asked him about his music. all of your monotoned replies and deadpan looks were all he got for the longest time, it seemed like your nonchalance was only for him, so it was nice to see you like this. it felt like you were warming up to him.

he thought about the talk the two of you had in your room, how different you’d been then. after being iced out for weeks, luke was a little shocked at how soft you were with him earlier, playing with his rings, holding his hand, talking to him. it was a welcomed surprise, of course, but he expected you to kick him to the curb. he still didn’t understand what actually happened after the concert, but he figured you already had a tough day, so that conversation can wait.

he made his way to you, leaning across the screen to slightly block your view, “you might be better than me at this game, but your ass is mine at guitar hero.”

“not fair,” you were focused on the game, eyes glued on the screen in front of you. “you’re in a band. of course you’re gonna be better than me at that.”

“life’s not fair, five star,” luke poked your side, making you squirm. you died in the game because of it. “my turn, yeah?”

you shoved his chest, reluctantly moving over. “you cheated.”

he looked over his shoulder, smirking, “how did i cheat?”

“you distracted me!”

“i did not!” he argued, chuckles escaping his lips. his tongue darted out the corner of his mouth. his concentration face was annoyingly attractive.

“did too,” you mumbled, watching over his shoulder to see how he was doing. he was doing really well. damn teenage boys and their affinity for video games. your chin rested comfortably on his shoulder blade as you watched him play.

luke’s breath hitched in his throat, suddenly too aware that you were so close to him. he could feel your breath against the nape of his neck, your lips dangerously close to where his tattoo was. he snuck a glance at you, noting how you were too focused on his score inching closer to your own.

“ha!” you yelled, pulling away from him. you bumped his hip with yours, moving him out of the way, “my turn.”

“okay, you cheated.”

you hit pause on the game, placing your hands on your waist, “how?”

“you were distracting me! putting your head on my shoulder and shit.”

“awww,” you cooed, playfulness in your tone, “do i make you nervous?”

luke’s face flushed. he shook his head, tilting his head down to hide the color on his face. he rubbed the back of his neck, “play your fucking game.”

you said something about him being a sore loser and cheered loudly when you beat his score. when you both ran out of lives, luke led you to guitar hero and as expected, kicked your ass at the game. the two of you played in the arcade until there was one golden token left in the bottom of the bucket. as you wandered around the room, your eyes landed on a black and white photobooth tucked away in the corner.

“let’s take some pictures,” you grabbed his hand, leading him over there before he could say no. you shoved him inside the photobooth, tapping his knee to make him stop manspreading on the small bench.

it could barely fit two people so it was a tight squeeze. you were sitting so close to luke, thighs pressed together as you tapped on the small screen to begin the process. luke could feel the warmth of your skin against his and he was glad that there was no colored photos option because his cheeks were bright red. maybe he can blame the lights making him feel hot if you brought it up, but he wasn’t sure if his voice even worked enough to utter out his excuse.

“you better smile, castellan,” you threatened, turning to look at him before you inserted the token in the slot. “not that little side smirk shit that you do in all your pictures.”

“what side smirk?”

“that thing you do in your pictures!” you shouted, “in every single instagram post, you always do it.”

luke raised an eyebrow, a cocky smile appearing on his lips, “you’ve stalked my instagram?”

“not the point,” you ducked, pretending to mess with the settings of the photobooth. luke can see your shy smile on the screen in front of him. “i’m just saying, smile normally.”

“that’s how i smile, five star! what do you want me to do?”

“that is not how you smile!” you argued. you took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you faced him. he was already looking at you, soft eyes and a hint of a smile on his features. a stray curl was out of place on his head and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching over to put it back in place. luke held his breath as your fingers grazed the side of his face, taking much longer than you needed to fix his hair. your thumb subconsciously rubbed against the scar on his cheek. luke let his eyes close at the feeling.

“there,” you whispered, pulling your hand back to your side. “that’s how you smile.”

he tried his best to keep that same expression on his face to see what you were talking about. he glanced at the screen and found himself stunned at what he found. you were right. this is not how he looked in his instagram pictures. he almost didn’t recognize himself as he stared. he looked different like this.

there were no creases between his eyebrows or on his forehead, like there was no stress on his shoulders. his eyes looked brighter somehow as if he was at peace, exactly where he needed to be at that moment. his lips were quirked up in a tender smile, parts of his teeth showing between the gap of his top lip and bottom lip. did he always look like this when he was with you? awe-struck and enraptured by your presence?

he should feel pathetic, but he couldn’t bring himself to, not when you were looking at him like you enjoyed this clandestine look on his face, a look that he reserved only for you. he couldn’t feel pathetic when you were looking at him in the same way. a secret language between the two of you, that nobody else in the world could even begin to understand.

the countdown on the screen started and luke was pulled from his thoughts quickly when you pressed your cheek against his, grinning as the timer flashed across the screen. he let himself smile, teeth on full display before the flash went off. the second countdown began and luke watched you fumble around to pick the next pose. you settled on a silly pose, sticking your tongue out as you held up the ‘rock and roll’ sign with your hand. he followed your lead, letting a snicker leave his lips at how fitting the pose was.

the final photo was uncoordinated. luke wasn’t ready for the flash to go off. you placed your hand on his shoulder, craning your neck to look up at him. if he leaned down an inch or two, his lips would touch yours. the realization had the wires in his brain crossed. when the machine took the picture, luke was staring lovingly into your eyes, a look of indecision on his face. his lips were curled into a bashful smile, the tip of his nose touching yours.

“five star,” luke breathed out, his arm snaking around your waist. your leg was now placed on top of his own.

you gulped, nudging his nose with yours, “luke…”

he’d never heard his name leave your lips before other than when you were mocking the gossips you heard about him. he’d never heard your real voice call him by his name. now that he has, he was addicted to the sound of it. he never liked his name that much, but somehow, when you said it, it sounded like poetry. he never thought a single syllable could sound so beautiful, have his knees buckling at the utterance of it. but with you, he supposed there was always a first for everything.

when the bright red words stating “your photos are ready!” illuminated the inside of the photobooth, the two of you jumped apart from each other, blushing wildly. luke took a moment for himself inside the photobooth, rubbing his face with his palms, as you walked out to retrieve the pictures. luke followed you after taking a few deep breaths.

he saw you leaning against the wall, the two strips of pictures in your hand. you had a goofy grin on your face, admiring them. luke sauntered next to you, taking a look at the photos.

he accepted the strip of photos you handed him, “we probably should’ve discussed our poses beforehand.”

“i dunno,” you were still staring at the pictures, biting your bottom lip. “i like ‘em.”

luke hummed, taking out his wallet. he folded the strip in threes, slotting the last photo in the clear compartment of his wallet. it looked perfect against the black leather, like it was the last thing needed to make his wallet look complete. he slipped it back in his back pocket, taking yours out to return to you.

“smoke shop?” he asked.

“please,” you nodded, beginning to walk out of the arcade. you waved goodbye to chiron who moved onto doing the daily crossword. “bye chiron! great to meet you!”

he bid the two of you goodbye, a knowing gaze on his face. you were already out the door when he sent luke a wink that had him shaking his head, face turning red at the man’s antics. luke shut the door behind him, ushering you over to the sidewalk towards the smoke shop, “i’m out of cigs too, so this is actually perfect timing.”

you waited outside the smoke shop, sitting on the curb. luke had a fake id (for research purposes, of course. he was just curious to see what the kentucky ids looked like.) so he bought your vape and his cigarettes. when he emerged, he joined you on the curb, pulling out his phone to call an uber back to camp.

the sun was long gone and he could hear the owls hooting in the distance. it was not a good idea to walk back to camp, even if it wasn’t even a mile away. he watched you unwrap your vape, taking a small hit from it. he lit his cigarette with the lighter he carried with him and smoked with you in silence.

“uber is gonna take twenty minutes,” he said, placing his phone between the two of you, face up. “i’m guessing there’s not many people around here.”

you glanced at his phone, giggling at his lockscreen. it was a picture of the entire band, wearing matching novelty sunglasses taken at a .5 angle. they looked ridiculously like the guys you’ve grown to adore. “i like your lockscreen.”

luke tapped his phone to wake it up. he let out a laugh, “mom took it when we played vegas for the first time. we were too young to go out and we were too afraid to use our fakes so we went to m&m world and got wired on sugar.”

“you guys are really close, huh?”

“got to be,” luke shrugged, “we’re together 24/7, but even before that… these guys are my brothers. love ‘em, even when they’re a pain in my ass. what’s your lockscreen?”

you pulled out your phone, showing him the picture of you, clarisse, and silena flipping off the camera. it was taken during one of your (failed) attempts at studying at the library. you were all in sweatpants and large hoodies with the stress of midterms evident on your faces. “that’s silena, my other best friend from unc. her boyfriend, charlie, took this picture because he said we looked absolutely miserable. and we do, but it makes me happy looking back at it. we were struggling together and we somehow made it out together.”

“i do not miss school at all,” luke blew out the smoke in his mouth, “i was a shit student.”

“but now look at you,” you teased, “mr. rockstar.”

“yeah, yeah,” luke copied your voice, “can’t complain.”

you hummed, tucking your vape in the pocket of luke’s hoodie, “you can, especially with me. i’m the number one hater, so i enjoy complaining quite a bit.”

“oh, i know.”

you smacked his arm, rolling your eyes as he stumbled in his seat, laughing. you cleared your throat, voice turning serious, “seriously. i owe you for today, so complain to me all you want.”

“you don’t owe me shit, five star,” luke put out his cigarette, standing up as his phone alerted him that the uber was coming soon. he held out his hand to help you up. “but i will take you up on that offer. of course, i can only do that if you don’t ignore me for weeks again.”

you slapped his hand away, shaking your head, smiling, “shut the fuck up.”

luke flagged down the uber, placing a hand on your lower back to lead you into the backseat. you entered, making polite conversations with the lady in the driver’s seat.

“for chase?”

luke nodded, “yup, thanks so much.”

as the car drove off in the direction of camp, you turned to luke, mouthing, “chase?”

he took out his wallet and handed you his fake id: chase reed, brown eyes, brown hair, 5’11.

luke safely tucked the id back in its slot when you tossed it back at him, giggling at his alter-ego. he didn’t say anything when you moved closer to him, sitting in the middle seat, and held his hand the rest of the way back to camp.

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo series

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jogetsobsessed · 1 year ago

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Always an Angel - Paul Lahote

Ok, I've been obsessed with the lyric “Always an angel, never a god for a few days now. I don't know why all of a sudden but it's been all I can think about. I know there are a bunch of literal interpretations but I look at it as a version of “always the bridesmaid, never the bride”, always the side character, never the main character. So I hope this comes across how I want it to lol.

Also, the timeline is kinda messed up in this, just live in ignorant bliss and ignore it pls, and thank you!

---------

Always the option, never the priority.

Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.

Always the lover, never the loved.

Always the fighter, never the fought for.

Always an angel, never a god.

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

You were used to being sidelined, looked right through.

No matter what you were doing, or who you were with, you were never the main focus.

Growing up boys never spared you a glance, your best friends being the main targets for their glances and flirty remarks. You were never the one asked to dance, always the one asked to hold a friend's purse or bag. If the car was full on the way to get ice cream, you were always the one that was going to be left out. You never learned inside jokes and standing alone at parties, you didn't even know why you went, it's not like anyone would notice if you left anyway.

At night when you would break and confide in the one person you knew truly loved you she would always question why you remained friends with the people that caused you so much pain. And through your blubbering, you would look at her like she was crazy. Explain to your mother that it must have been too long since she was a teenager. Because that's not how it works. Living in a small town the pool of potential friends is small, and having friends that treat you horribly is better than having no friends at all.

You would apologize to her years later, after maturing, and realizing that the remarks you directed towards her were uncalled for. The anger you threw her way was misguided and unfair. She didn't deserve the way that you treated her.

When Bella Swan moved to town you thought everything was going to change. She was from a big city, you didn't know much about Phoenix but you knew they probably didn't harbor the same small-town mindset that Forks did.

She had no clue who you were. She didn't know the unspoken reputation that hung above your head like a storm cloud.

And at first, you were right.

The two of you became friends quickly, Bella taking a liking to your quiet demeanor, such a drastic change from Jessica and her goons.

Your friendship appeared surface-level, to everyone but the two of you. In school, you both kept to yourselves and didn't talk much, even to each other. You would drag her along with you when you gathered the strength to hang out with your old friends. But you didn't do that often, seeing as they saw her as a shiny new toy and didn't treat her as a second-class citizen.

But after school the two of you would talk, your friendship would come alive in the comfort of your own homes, and you two would look like actual teenage girls and not two seventeen-year-olds who should be on the highest dose of Lexapro.

She was the first person that you saw as a true friend, that was until she committed, in your opinion, a cardinal sin.

Bella had gone off the deep end and you hadn't seen her in days. But that was normal, she would spiral, skip school, and then show up as if nothing happened. So you weren't concerned, sent her a few texts checking up on her and getting one-word responses back. Then the following Monday came around. You were waiting by your truck, lazily twirling your hair, eyes glazed over as you dissociated waiting for the bell to ring.

But amid your dissociation, you were pulled back to reality when a shiny black Volvo came to a screeching halt a row over. You knew who drove the expensive car so you tried to be as nonchalant as possible as you peered over your shoulder to get a good look at the owner.

You wished you hadn't.

Because getting out of the passenger seat was the person that you considered your best friend. Your best friend was sitting in the passenger seat of the car of the guy you had a crush on since he arrived at Forks High School.

She knew about your long-standing crush on Edward, she was the only person other than your mother who you had told. It came tumbling off your tongue one late night about a month after she had arrived in town. And you had sworn her to secrecy, begging her to never tell another soul.

But now it seemed to not matter, she had broken your trust and your heart.

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

The next year drug on. With Bella being completely infatuated with Edward you were left to crawl back to your old friends. They accepted you with barely open arms, reluctantly saving you a seat at the lunch table, sometimes sending you the location for Friday night activities.

When the Cullen clan abruptly left Forks Bella did to you exactly what you had done to your friends months earlier. Part of you didn't know why, but you let her back in, although this time keeping her at an arm's length away, never fully trusting her,

Eventually, however, Edward came back. First making his appearance walking hand in hand with Bella in the dreadful hallways of Forks High School after she had disappeared yet again for a few days with not even a courtesy text.

This time seeing them together didn't feel like a hot knife was piercing your skin. How could it, you no longer felt the same that you had for Edward. Because he had proven himself to be just like everyone else. He made you feel invisible.

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

The heat of late spring had arrived and you took in all the warmth that you could as you walked down the small rocky path to the mailbox. Graduation had come and gone and you found yourself in isolation. The people you had forced yourself to be friends with in high school no longer mattered. You didn't have to play the uncertain game of high school politics anymore. Starting university was on the horizon and while you dreaded leaving the comfort of home you were excited, this was going to be your chance to reinvent yourself. You were no longer going to be the person no one cared to look towards.

Pulling out the various envelopes you felt your heart stop beating when the light lilac envelope was pulled to the front. You knew what it was, you didn't even have to open it. But you did, ripping it open, praying that you hadn't torn apart the coveted invitation. Sure enough in bold letters, you read “Edward Anthony Masen Cullen and Isabella Marie Swan request your presence…”.

The phone call with Bella that night was awkward. You haven't talked much since graduation but she assured you that she wanted you to be at the wedding. You had wanted to push and ask her why she was rushing to get married. I mean you along with everyone else knew that they had only known each other for a year and hadn't been dating for the entirety of said year. But she sounded happy, the happiest she had ever seemed. So you didn't say anything, instead prying for details about the impending nuptials.

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

Thousands of flowers cascaded down creating a custom perfume in the air. Your eyes darted between the bunches of wisteria and sweet peas and you were in awe. The wedding had snuck up on you. So much had happened over the summer leaving you feeling unprepared to start school in the fall. Leaving you to make one of the hardest choices that you had ever made, deferring your acceptance into your top school to the following fall quarter.

So when you got a reminder on your phone that read “Bella and Edward wedding tmr” you were at a loss for words. I mean you had everything you physically needed, a dress, a present, the right pair of shoes. But you had forgotten one important thing, a date.

It wasn't going to be the first time you had shown up to an event without one, but it was probably going to feel the most embarrassing.

So here you were, standing next to your group of “friends'' from high school as they gossiped about the possibility of Bella being pregnant. “What do you think?”Erik asked you, giving your arm a soft nudge with his. “I don't know guys '. Jessica of course had a counter, pointing out that out of the group you were the closest with her. Luckily before you had to come up with an excuse of why you didn't know for certain the music began, signaling that it was time for everyone to turn their attention to the altar.

A few tears managed to slip down your cheeks as you watched your sometimes best friend say “I do”. In that moment all the turbulent times the two of you experienced didn't matter. You were just happy to be in the presence of two people who were madly in love and confessing it to each other, permanently sealing their love with a dramatic kiss.

The reception area was decorated equally as beautiful. You were grateful that Bella, or more likely Alice had set you close to the dance floor. That way you could watch people without feeling like a total loser, hanging out in the corner by yourself. At least this way you could still enjoy the happiness of the other guests without feeling the gross amount of body heat from the dancing bodies.

The ice was melting quickly in your lemonade, the night had not been rewarded with a cool late summer breeze so you were appreciative of the cool drink. The night had seemingly been going according to plan. Your ‘friends’ had migrated to another table across the dance floor with the excuse of wanting to talk to some of the other guests, but they had not returned in almost two hours so you were holding your breath.

Mentally you were planning your escape plan, glancing at your watch. Waiting for an acceptable time to leave, not too early into the night but not too late that you were leaving only minutes before the bride and groom's big exit. As you granted yourself yet another glance at the heirloom watch you wore and looked back up a gasp unwillingly left your lips.

The mystery man, who looked almost familiar, chuckled at your surprised look. Confidently he took the empty seat next to yours, turning his body to give you his full attention. “May I help you”, you didn't recognize your own words, your tone was a bit rude and you didn't even give him a second to introduce himself after she sat.

“I’m Paul Lahote”.

Once he gave his name to you your eyes moved up to meet him and the electric shock that you felt in your veins almost felt real. There was no doubt blush forming on every inch of your face and you were praying that the low light of the Edison bulbs did a good job at protecting some of your dignity. You gave him your name, barely squeaking out your last name.

Things like this didn't happen to you. A man that looked like him didn't talk to you. A part of you wondered if Jessica or someone like her had already turned him down, because let's face it, you were always the option but never the priority.

“I think you should share a dance with me, no pretty girl like you should be sitting alone at a wedding”. The flare in your cheeks was visible now, you were sure of it. No matter how low the light was you could have sworn a red glow was emitting from your body, like an accusing halo.

“Paul…you don't have to dance with me, I was just getting ready to leave”. Gathering your belongings as you begin to stand up. “No!”. He said, eyebrows raising to the top of his forehead once he realized how loud he exclaimed. Sheepishly he looked around offering small smiles as an apology to a few of the guests who looked at him like he had three heads.

“Please, I noticed you when I walked in before the ceremony and I haven't been able to shake you from my eyeline all night. I don’t think I can take no for an answer”.

The fact that your heart was still caged behind your chest was an act of god. Because at this point it should have flown away due to how hard it was beating. You were at a loss for words. The thought that someone was putting you first, taking interest in you was unbearable. And you were crumbling at his gaze.

His outstretched hand found yours that you slowly had begun to uncurl from against your body. Swiftly he whisked you out onto the dance floor, pulling your body flush to his.

Clumsily your feat matched his falling into routine with his steps, your body swaying in unison to the light melody. He hummed along softly to the quiet music as he kept a firm grip on you, almost like he was afraid to let you go.

The song ended and awkwardly you looked around not knowing what to do. Paul however looked happy as can be, letting go of your hand but keeping the one on your lower back in place. He led you back to the table where you had spent most of the night, pulling out your chair before you could even react. You thanked him as you sunk into the back of the chair trying to ground yourself.

“Man, I feel like the luckiest guy here at this whole damn wedding I got to dance with the prettiest guest of them all”. He said matter-of-factly triumphantly, taking a sip out of the glass he abandoned when he first approached your table. You scoffed, there was no way he was being for real, the alcohol had to have been getting to him now if he was saying such an untrue statement.

“I think you've had enough”. Your voice was shy and your eyes barely peeked through your almost closed eyelids. The embarrassment you hadn't felt earlier had returned and you were suddenly hyper-conscious of everything happening around you.

“Doll this stuff doesn't make me feel anything, you, however, are making me feel alive for the first time”. His drink was abandoned yet again as he scooted his chair closer, invading your bubble, and causing you to squirm under his gaze yet again.

“Paul, I'm flattered but again I think your choices are impaired. There's no way you feel anything like that for me”.

Paul was out of his chair before you could continue your babbling, cutting you off by capturing your lips in his.

After he pulled back for air his forehead rested against yours, the two of you matching your breathing. You were yet again at a loss for words, kissing the hottest boy at your best friend's wedding was not on this year's bingo card. But as per usual it seems Paul had the perfect thing to say, “My angel forgive me if this is forward, but l you need to let me love you, I have a feeling that you're gonna be stuck with me for a long time”.

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jamiefartt · 4 months ago

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richmond's receptionist; part three

part 1, part 2

pairings: jamie tartt x reader, whole cast is mentioned

summary: with Rebecca's charity gala rapidly approaching, Jamie tries to get you to be his date, so why not take you dress shopping?

words: 19 458

warnings: no smut but hot n steamy descriptions and def some thirsting, alcohol (pls don't mix ur drinks).

outfit references: x your dress x Keeley's dress x Rebecca's dress

———

standing in front of the small mirror hanging above your bathroom sink, you brush your fingers through your damp hair. you're dressed in your work clothes, chic pleated trousers paired with a billowy blue blouse tucked into the waistband. you sigh as you lean on the sink, the porcelain cool to the touch. you pick up your mascara from next to the sink, leaning close to the mirror and carefully brushing it onto your eyelashes. once applied, you admire the way your eyes pop, accentuated by the makeup.

normally, you would dot some blush across your cheeks, but expecting you'll be seeing Jamie at work all day, you know you won't need the added flush of colour.

adding a tint of red to your lips, you begin doing your hair, masterfully tying it up into a half-up half-down hairstyle. you pucker your lips in the mirror, turning your head side to side to make sure everything is in place. a smile appears on your face, your confidence surging as you look at yourself.

as much as you're getting ready for yourself, you can't help but imagine the look on Jamie's face when he sees you today, especially after the teasing trick you pulled on him yesterday evening. of course you always try to look good at work, but the added effort is worth it for the potential to make the Jamie Tartt even a little bit flustered.

the music playing through your cozy apartment is interrupted by your phone ringing, and you rush from the bathroom to turn it off, toothbrush still in your mouth. seeing Keeley's name written across your screen, you answer, and the call opens onto her sitting at her vanity doing her own makeup.

"hey babe," she says, mouth agape in an O-shape as she curls her eyelashes. she's wrapped in her fluffy pink dressing gown and has matching coloured hair curlers wrapped in her locks.

"good morning, y/n." Roy speaks from the plush sofa behind her. in contrast to Keeley, he's fully dressed, leather jacket and all.

you wave at the couple, walking back to the bathroom to rinse your mouth. once the toothbrush and suds are down the drain, you can finally say: "hey guys! how are things?"

Roy says nothing, only giving you a thumbs up as he keeps his eyes on the book he's reading. back in your bedroom, you place your phone on the bed as you begin sliding on your staple jewellery.

"great! now, listen y/n, Rebecca's charity gala is this weekend and we need to get you a dress," Keeley says sternly, now putting on mascara.

"oh– I'm sure I have a dress in my closet somewhere," you say, turning and opening your cupboard to see if you have anything adequate.

Keeley bursts into a cackle, catching you off guard; "no, no, you need something new... something expensive and rich that will blow Jamie's socks off! or, you know, you could do that."

"oh my God, Keeley!" you shriek, your mouth flying open at her words. her laugh echoes loudly through your phone and you can't help but giggle along with her. picking up your phone, you head to your living room, grabbing your handbag from the sofa before heading to the front door.

Keeley continues explaining as you struggle to slip on your shoes with your free hand whilst holding your phone and your bag in the other; "I've booked you an appointment for tomorrow at a dress boutique in town. I can go with you if you'd like, just let me know."

"oh wow, that's amazing. thank you so so much!" with your flats slipped on, you pick up your work heels and shove them in your bag. you pant a breath before clicking open your door and heading out to your hallway. your voice echoes as you head into the stairwell of your apartment building; "are you sure, Keeley? I mean, it seems a bit excessive and I doubt I could afford anything too exp–"

"where the fuck are you?" Keeley interrupts you, peering at her phone screen with squinted eyes.

"I'm leaving my place, I like taking the stairs." you shrug in response.

"ooh, is that how you keep your glutes so tight then?" she sticks her tongue out at you playfully, and you laugh at her words.

"shut up," you reply and playfully roll your eyes.

"anyway," Keeley continues, "don't worry about the price, Rebecca said she'd cover it."

your eyes blow wide open, and you almost tumble down the stairs in shock; "what?! no, absolutely not!"

"hush, y/n, I don't wanna hear it. we're gonna make you look the sexiest you ever have in your life!"

finally reaching the bottom of the stairs, having descended 4 whole floors, you push through the double doors leading to the small car park outside. passing straight past your beaten-up old car, you walk onto the footpath.

"Keeley, I really don't think I can accept that,"

"are you walking to work?" she says, ignoring your sentiment. you shake your head a little, surprised by her question.

"yeah?"

"why?"

"because I like to walk."

"Keeley–" Roy begins, but Keeley interrupts him, "okay, y/n, gotta go. see you at work!"

before you can say bye, your phone beeps, and the screen goes black. you stop in your tracks, staring down at your phone. quickly typing in your password, you go to check your texts.

"oi!" someone shouts to you, and the fright almost makes you drop your phone. a hand flies to your chest as you look up, not at all expecting who you see.

"Isaac?" you ask, leaning down to look through his car window.

"get in. lemme give you a lift." he says before pressing a button on his dashboard. the passenger door suddenly opens, and your eyebrows raise at his evidently very expensive sports car.

without a word, you drop your phone into your handbag and walk around the car, slipping into the passenger seat.

"thanks, Isaac." you smile at him, and surprisingly, he cracks a wide, toothy one back at you. the sight makes you smile even more, and you wonder if you're bond with the Richmond players is going beyond just Jamie.

"were you walking to work?" he asks you, pushing his foot to the gas pedal and continuing down the road.

"yeah?"

"why?"

"because I like– why is that so shocking?"

your frustration evident in your voice, Isaac glances at you with a scared expression. "I was just asking," he mutters, and you sigh in exaggerated annoyance with a smile before turning your head to look out the car window. you settle into a few seconds of silence, just admiring the view of Richmond's greenery as you drive. music plays quietly through Isaac's speakers, and you enjoy the peaceful company.

"Isaac?" you ask, still staring out the window.

"yeah?" he replies gently.

"has Jamie ever mentioned me at training or anything?"

Isaac chuckles to himself, thinking for a moment before replying: "he doesn't talk about you really, but he does ask about you."

"what do you mean?" you turn to look at him, placing your elbow on the door and playing with your hair.

"like, when Keeley comes in to do promo with us, he'll hang back to ask her questions about you."

"like what?" you feel a blush appear on your face as you get shy at the thought.

"a few weeks ago, when the sign-in thing started, he asked her how long you'd worked at Richmond. then a few days later, he asked her if you were single."

"really?" you laugh, "what a slag."

Isaac laughs with you, shaking his head; "truer words have never been spoken,"

a few beats pass as your laughter dies down, and the thought of Jamie being so curious about you surprises you. he always acts so cool and unbothered, and you've only seen him soften a few times, so knowing he still thought about you before you'd even properly spoken warms something in your chest.

"but, y/n, I do wanna say..." Isaac keeps his eyes on the road as his voice softens, "whatever it is Jamie feels towards you, it's clearly something real. since you two have been doing this thing, he's been kinder, not just to us but also himself. I don't know how you got through to him, but whatever it is please don't stop. we've all seen the way he looks at you, he really likes you, mate."

lips parted and eyes wide, your gaze is fixed on the road in front of you. you're speechless, and all that's going through your mind is Jamie; how he looks at you, how he touches you, his scent and the feeling of his lips brushing past yours. before you can think of anything to say, Isaac pulls into the Richmond car park. he parks his car smoothly, slotting it next to Colin's dented Lamborghini.

"look, you don't have to tell me how you feel about him, but try not to break his heart too much if you have to." Isaac says, turning to look at you.

you nod a few times, clicking open your seatbelt before looking up at him through your eyelashes; "Isaac," you say, "I'm way too into him to break his heart."

he squints at you, obviously suppressing a smile, and he presses the buttons to open your doors.

"cheers, bruv." he nods at you.

"thanks for the lift, Isaac." you nod at him too.

both of you exit the car without another word, and you hurry in the door so you can get started with your day. unsurprisingly, Colin is already inside standing at your desk.

"good morning, y/n." he smiles at you.

"hey, Colin. sorry I'm late!" you hop behind the desk and sit in your chair, quickly changing your flats into your heels. you take the sign-in clipboard from atop the desk, only to notice you don't need to change its pages at all.

"oh," you say before putting it back in its place, "can I help you with anything Colin?"

you expect Colin to answer, but he stays silent as Isaac squeezes past him and signs in. you stare at him expectantly, and Colin just looks at you nervously until Isaac is walking down the hallway.

"are you okay?" you ask him quietly, leaning closer to him. he glances around suspiciously, making sure the coast is clear and Isaac is out of earshot.

"yeah, I just need your advice on something."

"hit me," you smile.

"I've been seeing this guy for maybe... two or three months? and I'm not sure if it's too soon to invite him to the gala this weekend."

"oh my God, Colin! that's so exciting! I'd say go for it, it's definitely not too soon." you assure him, smiling wide. his face mirrors yours and a blush appears on his cheeks.

"okay, great, thanks y/n!" he says before jogging down the hallway and to the locker room.

you smile to yourself, wondering when you became his go-to for advice. you won't complain, you're happy to make friends with the Richmond players.

"what's he so happy about?" Jamie's voice pipes up beside you as he places a coffee cup on your desk, watching as Colin borderline skips his way through the building.

you smile at him, picking up the cup. before it reaches your lips you look up at him with a sceptical look; "this isn't gonna be fucking green tea again is it?"

"don't worry, love." he assures you, sending you a wink as he finishes signing in. placing his elbow on your desk, he leans against it casually, smirking down at you. you furrow your brows, slightly suspicious of his intentions after the morning before. taking a sip, you're pleasantly delighted at the taste, although he didn't bring you a latte.

"hot chocolate?" you smile up at Jamie.

"yeah..." he says, eyes soft and smile genuine, "with a shot of whiskey."

your face drops suddenly as the aloholic aftertaste hits your throat. your nostrils flare as hot anger fills your veins, and you stand up from your seat in shock; "Jamie! what the fuck?!"

Jamie sticks his tongue out and cackles, slapping a hand to your desk before running backwards down the hallway. as you stand behind your desk, breath heaving, he blows you a kiss.

frustrated, you roll your eyes and grunt, sitting down again. you pick up your cup, lifting the lid and bringing it to your face. you inhale, instantly smelling the whiskey in the drink. with a gag, you push the lid back on, putting the cup far away from you on your desk. a grimace paints your face as you try to swallow the flavour away, but the gross liquid feels coated down your throat.

"y/n!" Keeley exclaims, excitement painted on her face as if you hadn't been speaking just this morning, "what's wrong with your face?"

"Jamie put whiskey in my fucking hot chocolate." you whine, rolling your eyes again.

"oooh, lemme have a sip," she says, holding her palms together as a plea.

"I don't think he'll ever bring me an actual latte ever again," your lips pout as you slump back in your chair.

Keeley ignores your complaint, quickly scribbling down her name before saying: "your fitting appointment is tomorrow at 6:30 after work. let me know if you'd like me to join!"

"thank you so much Keeley but I don't want to take Rebecca's money just for a dress,"

"it's not just a dress, y/n, it's a gown." she presses.

Rebecca's heels click into the building as if on cue, and she smiles wide at the two of you as she approaches.

"Rebecca! please tell y/n you don't mind buying her a dress for the gala." Keeley sighs.

"I thought you just said it was a gown, not a dress." you tease, and she rolls her eyes at you in response.

"oh, don't be silly! of course I don't care – in fact, I actively want to. can't have my employees looking cheap, now can I?" Rebecca states in a cocky tone, picking up the pen and signing in.

you look at her with an grateful look; "thank you, Rebecca, seriously."

she shoots you a wink before saying: "don't worry about it. we need you looking good for Jamie, don't we?" you can't help but blush at her words, overwhelmed by the gracious gift.

"my hair stylist and the girl who does my makeup is coming over to mine after work on Friday, we should all get ready together!" Keeley says, bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement.

"that sounds lovely!" you say.

"I'll be there." Rebecca adds.

Keeley squeals as she waves; "see you later, girls!"

Rebecca smiles at you with a nod before walking to her office, and your excitement for the gala has finally kicked in. you think to yourself; an event where everyone is dressed up to the nines, with music and an open bar? what could go wrong?

—

the next day, as you make yourself a latte in the staff room, you're surprised by two strong hands suddenly gripping your shoulders. two thumbs dig into your skin, massaging the taught muscles.

"Jesus woman, why are you so tense?" Jamie whispers in your ear, lips grazing your skin.

your eyes flutter as you struggle to keep them open, the pressure of his fingers instantly relaxing you. you smile to yourself, dropping your head back, leaning against his shoulder.

"I would be a lot more relaxed if my morning coffee wasn't such a fucking gamble every day," you joke, looking up at him through your eyelashes, "mouthwash, Jamie... really?"

Jamie chuckles to himself, smiling at his own prank. using his grip on your shoulders, he lifts you off his shoulder, spinning you around to face him. his hands rest on your hips, pulling you close to him. standing chest to chest, you can smell his cologne, woody and rich on your senses.

"you smell nice," you say absentmindedly, not thinking before speaking the thought out loud.

"ya think so? cheers, it's Tom Ford." he says with a cheeky wink, clearly bragging.

rolling your eyes, you cock your head to the side. when you look up at him again, his face holds an expression you haven't seen before. his pupils are blown wide and a small smile sits on his pouty lips.

"what?" you ask, a smile creeping onto your face too.

"nothin'" Jamie mumbles, and you can feel his thumbs rubbing up and down your sides. his eyes move to your lips, and you blush in response. nervously, you fill your cheeks with air and purse your lips as he stares at them. he chuckles at your funny face, quickly leaning down and pecking your lips. the kiss makes you drop the expression, and his eyes finally meet yours again. you raise your eyebrows and pull your head back, and his grin grows at your surprised eyes.

"what?" he says nonchalantly.

"nothin'" you say with a fake deep voice, mocking him.

as he laughs, Jamie moves one of the hands from your waist to your back, sliding it up your spine. when he gets to your hair, he wraps his fingers around the long strands and tugs lightly, tilting your chin up. your eyes threaten to close again, and your heartbeat quickens as Jamie's eyes darken.

"wanna kiss me properly Tartt?" you whisper, teasing him with a smile.

taking a few painfully long seconds to drag his eyes over every inch of your face, he eventually drops the hand from your hair. his other hand leaves your waist as he takes a step away from you. as he spins on his heel to leave he says: "you wish."

you tsk at him, rolling your eyes while shaking your head. turning to the beeping coffee machine, your mouth speaks before your brain thinks; "Jamie," you call after him, turning back around. he reappears in the doorway in merely a split second, hand resting on the doorframe as he looks at you with raised eyebrows. "I have to go buy a dress for the gala after work and I need a lift... would you mind coming with me?"

Jamie's eyebrows relax, but his eyes widen as he stares at you, blank expression on his face. you can't read what he's thinking, immediately regretting your question: "if you can't, that's fine, I just–".

"yes." he breathes, "yes, yeah, course I'll go with ya,"

you smile at him shyly, and his straight face turns into a smiling one as he mirrors you. you nod at him as a silent thanks, and he nods back before making his way back to training. taking your cup from the machine, you smile to yourself. as you pour a sugar packet into it, you shake your head, wondering how you got into this game with Jamie in the first place.

as the time approaches six o'clock, you wait impatiently for the Richmond team to sign out. as your colleagues say goodbye and sign their names, you politely smile and chat to them, and by the time the players make their way through the hallway, you're halfway out of your chair. standing up, you pick up your handbag and shove your things into it.

"you in a hurry, y/n?" Sam laughs.

"going on another date with Tartt?" Colin adds.

"leave the two love birds alone, bruv." Isaac says, picking up a pen and signing himself out. Sam takes the pen next and does the same before passing it to Colin.

from behind the large group of players all waiting to leave, Jamie appears in his regular clothes. wearing a blue hoodie with grey jeans, you admire how simple his outfit is.

"Hughes, sign me out there would ya?" Jamie calls, heading straight for the door. he brings the pendant of his gold chain to sit between his teeth as he grins at you, eyes lingering on your white top.

he cocks his head towards the door with a curt nod; "shall we?"

the players all erupt in teasing oohs and cheers at Jamie's shameless flirting, and the excitement makes you laugh. you step down from the desk, pushing your bag onto your shoulder. Jamie walks through the door ahead of you, holding it open for you to walk through. before you go, you turn back to the group of players and blow them a kiss, making them shout even louder, jumping up and down and slapping each other's shoulders. you cackle at the dramatics, following Jamie outside.

continuing your laughter as he leads you to his car you ask him: "are they always like this?"

"sadly," he pulls open the passenger side door for you, "yes."

you drop into the seat, the plush and expensive leather comfortable beneath you. as Jamie gets into the car, you look around. there's a football shaped air freshener hanging from the mirror, and there's a small rubber duck wearing a bow tie stuck to his dashboard. his gearshift has a bracelet wrapped around the base of it, colourful wooden beads with a small heart adding a pop of colour to the black leather interior.

"didn't think I could be so intrigued by car decor," you say, and Jamie chuckles shyly as he looks around at his car.

"yeah, it's just things me mum's given me... for good luck, ya'know." the look he gives you is sincere, and you smile at the sentiment of it all.

"that's really sweet, Jamie."

he dips his head down and smiles, and you're sure you spot a blush cover his face. turning the keys in the cognition, his BMW roars to life, and you both buckle your seatbelts. you tap the address into the car's gps, grateful Keeley texted it to you without you even having to ask. as he drives out of the car park's gates, Jamie asks: "if you need a lift to this shop, how did you get to work?"

"I usually walk to work, but Isaac gave me a spontaneous lift yesterday and then picked me up again this morning," you explain, looking at the side of his face as his eyes stay fixed on the road. you watch his face morph into a confused pout.

"you walk to work?"

"yeah?"

"why?"

"what the fuck?!" you exclaim, throwing your hands in the air in frustration.

"what?!" Jamie yells back, matching your tone.

you groan, dropping your head into your hands before raking your fingers through your hair, "nothing, sorry, that's just the third time someone's asked me that."

"it's a bit weird, to be fair," Jamie shrugs.

"what? no it isn't! I swear you're all such snobs," you joke, "it's a good way to get your steps in,"

Jamie snorts, and your head snaps to the side to look at him again.

"you're such a loser," he says, shaking his head.

"as if! my phone tracks them and then I get little messages every time I do 1000 steps," you explain proudly. Jamie says nothing else, just smiles before glancing at the screen showing the directions.

the two of you sit in a comfortable silence as you watch other cars go by. sitting in Jamie's car, you can almost feel how expensive it was just by the way it glides so smoothly across the road. you try to spot similar cars at stop lights and crossroads, but somehow Jamie seems to be the only one with this fancy of a car.

"y/n?" his soft voice interrupts your thoughts.

"mhm?" you hum, looking to him.

he doesn't as much as glimpse at you, keeping his eyes forward; "how come Isaac gave you a lift?" his voice is quiet and shy when he asks. with an amused smile, you stare at him, wondering if you've imagined his reserved tone.

"Jamie?" you start, "are you... jealous?"

"pfft, what? no, why would I be?" he sputters.

"are you serious?" you ask with a giggle, and his silence speaks volumes. "Jamie..." you sigh, "the only reason Isaac gave me a lift yesterday was because he saw me walking and offered me one. this morning, he passed me again, so he stopped. it's polite to accept and, to be completely honest, I just wanted to sit in a sports car." you shrug, reassuring him.

he exhales and nods, trying to disguise his worry as a joke when he forces a chuckle; "oh, right, yeah,"

you lean closer to him, leaning your chin on his shoulder. finally, he glances down at you, smiling softly. "don't worry, Jamie. from now on, I'll only take lifts from you in your sports car."

he rolls his eyes but can't help but huff a small laugh, and you smile up at him, biting your lip. "can I turn on some music?" you ask sweetly, fluttering your eyelashes at him dramatically.

"go on then."

you squeal in excitement as you tap the screen on his dashboard, admiring the high-tech of it all. connecting your phone to his car, you press play on one of your playlists. soft music falls from the speakers, and you don't think you've ever heard your favourite songs in such good quality before. pressing a hand to the speaker on your door, you close your eyes, feeling the vibrations of the music. you fall back against the head rest, completely relaxing into Jamie's presence. he doesn't speak, letting you feel the sound in peace.

humming along to the song playing, you smile to yourself. you feel like you're floating as the car drives smoothly over the roads to the boutique. Jamie's a surprisingly gentle driver, never hitting his brake too hard and not swerving around bends. dropping your hand from the speaker, you start picking up on the sound of Jamie's movements. his breathing is steady, and you can hear him absentmindedly sigh every so often. you hear his hands run over the steering wheel when he takes a turn, and the sound soothes you. driving with Jamie makes him feel so human. usually only seeing him in the context of football, you feel like you know athlete Jamie more than person Jamie, despite your date last weekend. the date was amazing, and you learnt so much about him, but sitting in silence with him is a big difference to your usual constant banter.

after the car drives over a bump, you feel the car slow to a halt and the music stop, presuming you've arrived.

"y/n?" Jamie whispers gently, and you've never heard his voice so quiet. the other times he's whispered to you it was definitely not this sweet and soft, and the sound warms your heart.

when you turn your head towards him and open your eyes, he's unexpectedly close to you. with his elbow on the armrest between you, Jamie holds himself a few inches away from you. his gaze softens when you look at him, your eyes wide and amused.

"we're here," he whispers in the same gentle tone, nodding his head towards the windshield. your eyes don't leave each other's as you breathe in deeply. the smell of his cologne fills your sense again, now mixed with fresh conditioner and a slight hint of lavender. you yearn to be closer to him, and you have to fight the urge to wrap an arm around his neck and pull him into you.

instead, you let your eyes drop to his lips before quickly looking away, staring out the window at the shop in front of you. you feel Jamie's eyes on you for a few more seconds before he peels them off of your face, looking down at his hands awkwardly. facing him again, you smile nervously before leaning over the center console and pressing a quick kiss to his soft cheek. his head snaps up at the feeling and when he turns to you, he's blushing a deep pink.

"let's go then," you say, sighing and picking up your bag from between your legs, placing it on your lap. Jamie jumps out of the car, rushing over to the passenger side to open your door for you. one hand holding the door out of your way, his other hand reaches out for you to take. you place your hand in his, and he helps you stand up from the car – not that you need it, but you'll never say to no to some princess treatment.

"thank you, Jamie." you smiled at him.

"you're welcome, y/n." he says as he closes the car door behind you.

you approach the small shop, stopping by its window to admire some of the dresses on display; "oh my goodness," you breathe, "these are gorgeous!" your excitement doubles as you look back at Jamie.

his eyes are fixed on you as he breathes: "yeah... gorgeous,"

your heart rate speeds up suddenly, noticing the way his pupils are wide again, just like in the staff room earlier. your mouth opens, desperately trying to breathe in more air, but you get lost in his gaze. he definitely isn't talking about the dresses.

you swallow and try to snap out of it; "okay, Jamie, I'll see you tomorrow."

"what?" he says quickly, expression faltering and you can almost see his heart break in his face. you furrow your brows and repeat after him; "what?"

he stands up straight, suddenly acting uncharacteristically awkward as he fidgets with his car keys. attempting nonchalance, he shakes his head and looks away from you.

"I mean, I just thought I'd go in with you, ya'know... you might need a second opinion or something," he says quickly, scratching the back of his neck while he looks anywhere but at you.

you chuckle at his silly sheepishness, saying nothing before reaching out for his hand, taking it in yours. a blush appears on your face, and you turn and pull him into the boutique with you.

"good evening!" a squeaky voice chirps, and you can't see the person it came from. your hand still clutches Jamie's, and he holds yours tighter as you both look around. you're overwhelmed by the amount of gowns strung along racks against each wall, and your mouth hangs open as you run your free hand along the fabrics.

"phew! sorry about that, I'm here!" the voice speaks again, and when you turn around, a small blonde woman appears from behind an equally small counter.

"hiya," you speak politely, "uhm, my name is y/n. I think my friend Keeley made an appointment for me."

"ah! Keeley Jones! she's one amazing firecracker, isn't she?" the woman says with a smile, "now, where are my glasses?" she thinks to herself. her curly blonde hair is half pinned up, and her bright red glasses sit on top of her head. you're not sure whether to say something or not, watching her pick up and move stacks of paper on the counter as she searches. Jamie squeezes your hand, and you turn around to look at him. he lifts his pointer finger to his mouth and shakes his head, smiling at you. you smile up at him, taking note of what he means, but decide to do the right thing.

"sorry, I think they're on your head?" you say as politely as possible.

"oh! thank you, darling." she smiles at you before reaching out a hand and introducing herself; "I'm Sarah, it's so lovely to meet you, y/n,"

you drop Jamie's hand to shake Sarah's, which makes her notice his presence.

"and you are?" she asks, holding a hand out for him too.

"I'm Jamie," he smiles, shaking her hand with his right and covering the back of her hand with his left.

"such a sweet thing," Sarah smiles, "you're a lucky girl." she says, looking at you.

Jamie turns to you, letting go of her hand, raising his eyebrows at you with a teasing grin. you roll your eyes at him, ignoring Sarah's comment.

"right–", she says, pushing her glasses back into her hair and moving across the boutique towards a rack of dresses, "what are you looking for today?"

"well, I'm going to this big fancy gala on Friday and I need–"

"something blue." Jamie interrupts, hands politely held behind his back as he smiles at Sarah, avoiding your confused face.

"perfect! let me take some measurements and I'll get you set up. follow me, love. Jamie, you can wait here, take a seat." Sarah's excited, and completely oblivious to your surprise at Jamie's words, as she leads you through a curtain at the back of the shop. you glance back at Jamie over your shoulder, and he winks at you as he sits down on a velvet purple sofa.

the room you walk in is small, but tidy and chic. there's a large mirror covering one of the walls, and the carpet is white and shaggy. it seems to be one big dressing room, and it looks completely different to where Jamie is waiting for you. there's an iced window opposite you, allowing for natural light to flood the cream walls.

"he said something blue, is that right?" Sarah asks, handing you some kind of unitard which matches your skin tone.

"uhm, I guess, yeah," you say, agreeing to Jamie's suggestion. you're not sure why he said it, but it gives you more inspiration than you had when you arrived to the boutique.

"okay, darling. go slip on this little bodysuit behind the curtain over there and I'll be back to measure you whenever you're ready." Sarah smiles politely, guiding you towards a small but tall booth in the corner of the room.

once you've changed, wearing nothing but the skin tight playsuit, you call for Sarah. the carpet is soft under your bare feet as you admire yourself in the mirror. you run your fingers through your hair, adding some volume into it as you smile at your reflection. soon after, Sarah pushes a rack of dresses into the room.

"you haven't even measured me yet?" you laugh at the amount of fabric hiding her small frame.

"don't worry, angel, I've got a good eye for this stuff," she says with a strained voice, struggling to push the wheels over the carpet. you rush over to help her, pulling the opposite side further into the room. there's a variety of different shades of blue and fabrics on the rack; there's silk, satin, and chiffon, and you admire the way some of the rhinestones sparkle under the light.

"these are beautiful, woah..." you say, looking through the dresses.

"we have plenty of time to play dress-up later! let's get you measured," Sarah says, slipping on her glasses and taking the measuring tape from around her neck.

as you move to stand on a small platform in front of the mirror, music starts playing from the shop's speakers. you instantly recognise it as one of the songs you played in the car ride with Jamie. you blush, chuckling to yourself.

"did Jamie turn this music on?" you ask, looking at Sarah in the mirror.

"he did," she says, quickly scribbling down the length of your leg into her notebook, "he asked if he could connect his phone. he's a very nice man, very charming,"

you huff, a smile creeping up your face, "hmpf, isn't he?"

"how long have you two been together?" she asks you absentmindedly. the question makes you shake your head and sputter out your words; "oh, no, no, we're not together,"

"really?" she asks, "I thought I saw you two holding hands when you walked in,"

"it's complicated," you explain vaguely.

"oh sweetheart, there's nothing complicated about the way he looks at you," Sarah says quietly, and her statement stuns you, "he helped me choose these dresses for you by the way, I already know his favourite one."

not sure how to process her words, you turn your head to the rack of dresses, trying to guess which one he likes the most. your chest grows warm at the thought of Jamie's waiting for you in the next room, listening to a song you like, picking out dresses for you. with a blush on your face, you start to realise what Isaac meant; Jamie can be exceptionally kind.

"all done, my love! now, pick whichever ones you want to try on and if they need any tailoring, I can get that done for you before Friday." Sarah brushes strands of hair out of her face, standing up straight and pointing to the rack of gowns.

you look at her with kind eyes and smile; "thank you, Sarah,"

"now, I'll be just out there taking care of your friend, but just gimme a shout if you need help with a zip or anything." she winks at you before heading through the curtain into the boutique.

you take a deep breath, trying to focus on the sound of the music playing through the room. either Jamie has exceptionally good taste, or he's found your spotify account and has turned on the same playlist you played in his car.

trying on a navy dress, you spin around in the mirror. nice bodice, but ugly tule sleeves. you take a turquoise gown from the rack, deciding against it before even trying it on simply due to its big frilly skirt. next, you pull out a dress the brightest shade of blue, and try it on for fun, just to see Jamie's reaction. you pull aside the curtain into the shop before stepping through.

Jamie's hands fly to his mouth, biting back a laugh. you do the same, rolling your lips into your mouth to avoid a cackle from escaping. the dress is made of polyester, and is covered in sheer tule with big plastic diamonds.

"oh... babe," Sarah says awkwardly, grimacing.

"Jamie?" you say, still holding back a laugh.

"you look... absolutely stunnin'" he forces, face morphing into an almost painful expression.

a few beats of silence pass, before the three of you burst into loud and boisterous laughter. Jamie clutches his stomach in laughter, while Sarah covers her mouth the hide her amusement. you stop your laughing and pretend to look offended; "what? you don't like it?" you smile at Jamie. he digs his phone out of his pocket before holding it up proudly.

"go on, do a twirl," he says, filming you as you do what he asks. you laugh at the antics, holding up the skirt and curtsying. you blow a kiss to his camera and close your eyes, smiling sweetly.

"fuckin' beautiful," Jamie mutters, and he sounds more sincere than the jokey tone he had used before. you pretend you didn't hear it, taking a dramatic bow before disappearing into the changing room again.

laughing to yourself, you tug off the dress, appreciating the little ribbons Sarah has tied onto each dress' zip, allowing you to easily reach back and pull it down yourself. you take your time trying on three more dresses, and as much as you look like a princess, you don't feel like one just yet.

the final dress on the rack is a sequined baby blue one, and you're unsure of its boldness before you even put it on. you take it off the hanger, undoing the zip and stepping into it. pulling the skinny pink spaghetti straps over your shoulders, you feel the soft inner lining of the dress tickle your legs. all the dresses you had tried on were floor length, but this one falls three quarters down your legs, ending a few inches above your ankles.

reaching back, your hand searches for the ribbon in order to zip up the dress, but you can't seem to find it. turning around in the mirror, you stretch your neck to see it's missing.

"fuck," you whisper to yourself, desperately trying to fold your arm back and zip it up, but to no avail.

"Sarah?" you call, but she doesn't answer.

"eh, she's gone upstairs to her workshop for a minute. is everythin' alright?" Jamie replies. you hang your head, taking in a deep breath.

"could you come help me zip up my dress please?" you say, eyes to the ceiling as you dread Jamie's entrance. a knot grows in your stomach; you wanted Jamie to see the dress on Friday, after getting all dolled up, not when you're barefoot in a dressing room with your hair messy.

"yeah, sure, of course," he mutters, his voice coming closer through the curtain. pushing it open, he covers his eyes with his hand; "you decent?"

"yes, Jamie, just come in." you sigh, hand clutching the back of the dress as you stand on your tippy toes, mimicking the effect your heels will have on the outfit.

"alright, alright, just–" Jamie stops mid sentence. you look over at him, and his face bares a look of pure admiration. his pouty lips are parted, eyes wide and glossy under the light. eyebrows raised, his arms hang limp by his sides, and his chest rises and falls noticeably with his shallow breaths.

you don't speak, your face holding an embarrassed expression as you turn your back towards Jamie; "please," you squeak quietly.

he inhales a shaky breath before saying: "yeah, sorry, yeah,"

avoiding looking at him, you wait impatiently for the feeling of his body behind you. you hear his uneven breaths first as he stands behind you. fully aware he's blushing, you can't help but wish you had turned to the mirror, then you could at least see his expression as his hands carefully clutch the bottom of the zip, right above your ass. seeing the red tint on his face would make you feel a lot better about your half-assed appearance. his fingers brush the arch of your back as he pulls the zip up the length of your back, as his other hand rests on your waist. when he nears the top, his hand leaves your waist to brush your hair over your shoulder and out of the way. as the dress tightens around you, one of the straps slip from your shoulder.

as soon as the dress is secured, you turn towards the mirror again, lifting yourself onto your toes. the shiny fabric hugs your frame tightly, accentuating the curve of your hips and pushing up your chest ever so slightly. you hear Jamie gulp, and your eyes move to look at him in the reflection of the mirror. his eyes don't meet yours, however, as they're glued to your back and shoulders. he carries his gaze across your shoulder blades, slowly lifting a hand to your arm, gently sliding the thin strap up to your shoulder again. his breathing still sounds heavy in your ear, and his fingers linger on the exposed nape of your neck.

Jamie finally lets his eyes glance up to meet yours, and your breath hitches in your throat. his eyes are dark, not with lust or intoxication the way you've seen before, but with something else – something indecipherable. he holds your eye contact while his fingers continue their path over your skin. he brings them down to your shoulder before dragging them back up to your neck. trailing them down your spine, he follows the shape of your shoulder blades, drawing absentminded shapes on them. goosebumps appear on your skin, and you bring your hands up your torso nervously. the slight scratch of the sequins on your palms grounds you, and your eyes trail over your body. Jamie settles both hands on your waist again, and you drag your hands up over your stomach, to your ribcage, before sliding over your chest. you bring them back down, fingers smoothing the sparkles on your thighs.

when your eyes flick up to look at Jamie, you're surprised to see him staring at your eyes already. his cheeks are flushed, but he's managed to close his mouth for the first time since he opened the dressing room curtain. his hands drop from your waist, and he reaches up to bring your hair back off your shoulder before taking a step away from you. Jamie's eyes are sincere as he finally speaks: "y/n..."

"mhm?" you hum, turning to the side to admire the back of the dress in the tall mirror.

"I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you in my entire life." he says firmly, face unwavering as he looks you dead in the eye in the mirror.

you soften at his words, sighing as you tilt your head. he flashes you a small smile as you stare at his reflection. looking at you sheepishly, it's almost like he doesn't know the words he just spoke went straight to your heart – as if the look in his eyes didn't scream love.

turning around quickly, your breath is shallow as you hold his eye contact. his eyes drop to your lips and yours do the same, and soon enough you're stepping closer to him. peering up at him through your eyelashes, your eyes stay wide, and he looks at you expectantly. his eyes flick down to glance at your lips once more, but this time, your eyes stay fixed on his. the longer you stare at him, the more you feel your eyes gloss over. the sweet smile on his face doesn't fall, and you shake your head as you finally grin back.

standing up on your tippy toes, you throw your arms around his neck and hold him tightly. his strong arms wrap around your waist, placing one of his palms flat on the middle of your back. you sigh as you press your face into his neck, and you hear him exhale deeply as he holds you impossibly closer.

you breathe in his skin, feeling his hair tickle your cheek. Jamie groans into your neck, squeezing you so tight your feet lift an inch off the ground. you giggle into his neck, lifting your head up and back to look at him. he moves his head off your shoulder too, keeping your feet off the ground.

"is this your favourite dress then?" you tease him with a smile.

"definitely." he nods his head eagerly, eyes focused on your mouth. you bite your lip nervously, the way you always do when you notice him staring at them.

"what?" you ask sweetly, moving your head to the side in an attempt to get him to look you in the eye again.

"will you be my date to the gala?" he says quickly, eyes back on yours. his face breaks out in a large grin as you raise your eyebrows at him.

you look up, as if deep in thought, before furrowing your brows and pouting; "uuuhm... no." you state. Jamie's happy face immediately drops into a pouty, confused expression.

before he can contest your answer, you quickly peck his frowning lips, taking him aback all over again. kicking your feet, you laugh out loud; "okay, put me down now. I need to go pay for this dress."

—

looking at your reflection in Keeley's vanity mirror, you absolutely adore who's staring back at you. your hair is curled to perfection, pinned up in the classier version of a messy bun. loose strands frame your face and make the hairstyle look naturally effortless, despite it having taken 40 minutes to perfect. your eyelids sparkle with a slight dusty pink colour. skin looking filter smooth, you admire the way the light bounces off your cheekbones after Keeley's makeup artist fanned some highlighter on them.

she's behind you on the pink sofa, painting her toe nails, whilst Rebecca is next to her on her phone. you had agreed to all get ready together but Rebecca, picky as ever, arrived completely dressed up, having already had her stylist get her ready.

leaning close to the mirror, you screw open your shiny pink lip gloss before lathering it on your lips. you pop them together before puckering them in the mirror, making a kissy noise. Keeley laughs at the sound, and when you turn around, a mischievous grin grows on her face; "look at you with your lip gloss! Jamie and y/n sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!"

the three of you share a big laugh as you stand up from the chair, the pink robe Keeley lent you keeping you cosy as you get ready.

"okay, time for my dress!" you sing, and Keeley squeals.

"I can't wait to see it," Rebecca says sweetly. you tilt your head, looking at her with kind eyes;

"thanks again, Rebecca, I don't think I can ever repay you for this favour,"

"shut up and get dressed!" Rebecca shouts, waving a hand to dismiss you.

"aah! okay!" you shout back, running into Keeley's bedroom, dress bag folded over your arm.

putting it on is easier this time, having tied your own ribbon onto the zip. you look at your reflection in the bedroom mirror, and you can't believe this is you. the dress fits you like a glove, and is still the most comfortable thing you've ever worn. the fabric is flowy around your legs, and tightens to hug your body around your hips. your pinned up hair shows off your clavicle, and the framing front pieces make your face look chiseled as ever. sitting on the bed, you slip your feet into your light pink heels, the platform pumps adding an extra two inches to your height. as you buckle them up, you can finally say you truly do feel like a princess.

"ready?" you call, cracking open the door out of the bedroom.

"yes!" Keeley and Rebecca both say at the same time, excitement evident in their voices.

you step out of the room, letting out a deep breath. there's no reason to be, but you're nervous. you hold your head up, imagining Jamie sitting in that room, and you're suddenly filled with a newfound confidence. taking long strides, you walk into the next room. stepping in front of Keeley and Rebecca, you smile wide. both of them are dead silent, staring at you with blank expressions. you do a twirl, hoping to pull a reaction from them, but when you face them again, you still get nothing. smile slowly fading, your brows furrow.

"is there something wrong?" you say, holding out your hands in confusion.

Keeley and Rebecca shake their heads in sync, and the latter finally speaks up; "not at all, y/n, wow,"

"Jamie-" Keeley starts, life re-entering her eyes, "is... going to..." she jumps up in the air as she screams "DIE!"

she runs over to you and hugs you as you cackle at their theatrics; "you look fucking amazing!" Keeley squeals.

you look at Rebecca as you squeeze Keeley's arm, and the smile she gives you feels warm and sincere. she doesn't need to tell you what she thinks, you can read it in her face. you mouth the words 'thank you' to her one last time, and she blows you a kiss.

"let's get going!" letting go of you, Keeley runs to the mirror to quickly check her makeup. you move towards the sofa, picking up your clutch bag and slipping your phone and lip gloss into it. Rebecca stands up, brushing down her outfit. her red dress highlights her long legs, and her pinned up hair makes her look even taller than she is. turning your back to her, she kindly helps you take the ribbon off your zip. Keeley's hair cascades over her shoulder in waves, and her black corset fits perfectly over a big pink silk skirt.

"we look so good," you turn to them, smiling wide before heading for the front door.

you all slip into the back of the slick black limousine Rebecca organised for the three of you, and you waste no time in popping open the complimentary champagne.

each of you have a flute in hand as you sing along to the music playing. Keeley holds up her phone to take selfies and pictures of all of you, together as well as posing on your own. laughing and cheering, you hype each other up as you show the camera your best faces. three champagne flutes down and your cheeks feel hot, the alcohol rushing through your veins.

"oh by the way, y/n, you'll be sitting at a table with me and Keeley tonight." Rebecca smiles as she takes a sip of her drink. your eyebrows arch in surprise, and you mirror her as you bring the glass flute to your lips.

"yeah, we didn't want you sitting with random staff," Keeley adds.

"I'm surprised you didn't put me at a table with Jamie," you say.

Rebecca wags her pointer finger at you; "hm, no, see that wouldn't really be playing the game, would it?"

"if you're sitting at the same table, there's no longing, no yearning, no sexual tension!" Keeley explains, grunting the last words as she balls her fists in front of her and shakes them.

"exactly!" Rebecca continues, "our table is in front of his, which means that each time he looks at the stage, his eyes have to pass you, which they obviously won't and he'll probably sit there all night staring at you until you notice him" she states matter of factly.

"you guys..." you drawl, "this is so lovely, but at this point I'll just want jump his bones the minute I see him. I've been holding off for so long!"

"I promise it's worth it... believe me, it's all about the wait." Keeley says, placing a firm hand on your knee and squeezing it in reassurance. "Rebecca knows all about it," she continues, "she's put Sam behind us as well, at the same table as Jamie."

gasping at her, you let out a small scream; "Rebecca! you're going to try pick things up with him again?!" she rolls her eyes at you and Keeley, but still smirks slyly. the three of you holler and laugh, drowning out the music with your noise. your stomach twists in nerves and excitement, not at all knowing what to expect from tonight. whatever happens, you have to try to resist the one thing you've been thinking about for weeks; let's see how hard he's going to make that.

—

the limousine finally comes to a halt at the Richmond Theatre, and the flashing cameras already catch your eye. the driver steps out, walking over and opening the car door for you, Keeley, and Rebecca. one by one, you exit the stretch, giving each other hands to help the other up.

the red carpet is rolled out from the end of the stoop, all the way up over the stairs into the venue. there's a backdrop set up for photographs displaying an array of sponsors including bantr and KBPR. Sam and Isaac pose in front of the cameras, standing a few feet from one another.

"Jerry! Dave! it's so good to see you guys again! make sure to get my good side this year," Sam points at the group of photographers, choosing for a simple wide smile. Isaac on the other hand, has his hands together in a prayer pose, face emotionless. "don't forget the shoes," Isaac says to the cameras, "make sure you get the shoes, bruv." he reiterates bluntly, pointing a finger down at the ground.

shaking your head, you laugh at their antics. looking at the people around you, you can't help but think about Jamie; is he inside already? what is he wearing? will he still like your dress? oh my God what if he doesn't show up just because you said no to being his date-

"y/n, it's your turn babe," Keeley whispers in your ear, and she places a hand on your back to guide you onto the red carpet. eyes widening in panic, you turn to grab her hand; "Keeley, I have no idea what to do, please come with me,"

she giggles, running in front of the photographers, still holding your hand. she flicks her hair aside, placing a hand on her hip and smiling wide. through her teeth she tells you: "just copy me, you're gorgeous."

as the two of you stand and pose together, Rebecca steps onto the carpet at its far end, smiling on her own. you reach over, taking her hand and pulling her between you and Keeley, and the three of you laugh and pose together in front of the cameras. slowly but surely, you get more comfortable, stepping aside to get a few photos on your own. Dani, Colin, and a number of other Richmond players stand next to the photographers, whistling and whooping in encouragement. your laugh is big and genuine as the cameras continue to flash, and the adrenaline running through your veins reignites the excitement you've had all week.

"thank you!" you say to the photographers as an event organiser beckons you off the carpet. she leads you, Rebecca, and Keeley towards the steps into the theatre. the three of you laugh at the rush caused by the attention of the cameras, and your words are filled with disbelief; "I've never done anything like that before! that was so much fucking fun!"

"I know right?!" Keeley cackles.

"ladies, I have to go in and sort some things so I'm going to go ahead. I'll see you at the table," Rebecca speaks quickly, blowing a kiss before rushing off.

"she's so sexy when she's all in charge and shit," Keeley says, watching as Rebecca struts up the rest of the stairs and into the venue. she turns to face you, looking you up and down. with an inquisitive expression, she reaches her hands up and twists your necklace around, hiding the clasp behind your neck.

"perfect," she says, "how do I look?"

"absolutely amazing," you reply to her, pulling some fluff from her lace corset.

"let's fucking do this," Keeley says with a determined expression, and the two of you hold hands again as you walk up the stairs. at the door, a server holds a silver platter with champagne flutes filled to the brim. Keeley immediately drops your hand, taking one glass in each hand. you struggle holding back a laugh as you take one for yourself, thanking the server quietly.

approaching the double doors into the theatre, you reach out your free hand to pull the handle, holding it open for Keeley. "thanks, babe," she says, taking a quick sip of her drink. the second she enters, she squeals "Barbara!" and rushes over to her friend nearby.

left to fend for yourself, you blink and widen your eyes at the sheer size of the ballroom. at the far end is a large stage, and the walls are covered in red velvet. you look up at the ginormous chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and the chatter from the large amount of guests bounces against all sides of the room. you can't discern any of the voices despite recognising almost every face. everyone is dressed up to the Gods, mingling and chatting in small groups. some people are sitting at their tables, whilst some are simply standing around.

you spot Ted and Beard talking to Trent Crimm to your left, and as you're about to move towards them to say hello, a recognisable voice finally breaks through your thoughts; "holy fuck."

snapping your head towards the sound of the voice, your eyes immediately notice Jamie standing next to the bar to your right. he stands up straight when your eyes meet, sliding his elbow from the counter and placing down his beer bottle.

your jaw slacks as you move your eyes down his body, noticing his suit. it's a smooth navy, tailored to fit him perfectly. his signet ring shines beneath the bright lights, and his tattoos peek out from under his sleeve. the tie he's wearing has a light blue pattern you can't quite make out from your distance, but when your eyes drift to his suit jacket, your mouth snaps closed.

Jamie's eyes are wider than you've ever seen them, and he doesn't seem to blink at all as you walk over to him. you stand close to him, nostrils flaring as you clench your jaw; "Jamie," you say flatly, trying to keep your breathing steady, "what the fuck is that?" you tuck your clutch under your arm, moving your hand up to his chest and poking a finger against the pocket of his jacket.

his mouth opens and closes a few times, but no words come out. avoiding your eyes, he frowns his lips and shrugs; "what's... what?"

you tsk at him, moving your head to the side in an attempt to catch his gaze again. your finger digs into his chest harder, finally making him look at you as he pulls away in pain.

"ow, what was that for?"

"where did you get that pocket square?" you ask, making your question clear. you glance down at the sequinned blue fabric folded in his pocket, and your ears start ringing as your heart rate increases rapidly.

"Sarah made it for me to match your dress," Jamie admits sheepishly, shoulders slumping as he looks down at his fidgeting hands.

"come with me." you say, turning around and walking across the ballroom. Jamie follows you like a lost puppy as you walk past the other guests. "hey guys, I'll see you in a bit!" you chirp as you pass the coaches and their resident writer. they wave at you and Jamie with confused faces, but you ignore them. pushing through another set of double doors, you walk into a hallway.

looking side to side, you spot what you're looking for down the hallway and on the left. you don't look behind you, sure Jamie is right there, as you strut past another bar and some couched booths. stopping to chug your champagne, you discard the glass one of the tables. when you finally reach the door labelled 'ladies, you push open the door, hoping nobody's inside.

Jamie's suddenly stops as you head into the bathroom, brows furrowed, and you roll your eyes before pulling him in with you. when you walk in, you thank God there's no one in there to see you drag in the man trailing behind you. pushing open the first stall you see, you yank Jamie's arm to pull him inside.

you drop his hand, pressing your hands against his chest and pushing his back into the door, making it shut. you waste no time in slotting your feet between his and leaning forward, connecting your lips together. his hands find your waist as he realises what's happening. your clutch drops to the floor and you grab his biceps, keeping yourself steady.

hunger sets into you as you kiss him deeply, already panting as you messily move your lips against each other. your tongue slips into his mouth with ease as your hand reaches for his hair, grabbing a handful and tugging it. he groans into your mouth as his hands move up your back, holding you impossibly closer. you struggle to suppress the moan in the back of your throat as his tongue dips into your mouth, and your knees buckle at the feeling. Jamie uses this as his chance to spin you around, pressing your back against the cold door and quickly locking it without even having to look. with one hand placed firmly on the arch of your back, the other comes up to your face, tilting your jaw up as he kisses you even harder. your heads move side to side quickly, not once pulling away for breath as you move against each other vigorously. your fingers are still tangled in his hair whilst your other hand grips his arm tight, feeling the way the muscle flexes as he holds your body against his.

your mind goes completely blank, and your senses heighten as Jamie feels warm - no - hot. your heart hammers against your chest as you feel yourself start to sweat, your shared body heat starting to become overwhelming as your ears ring. all you can see, feel, and smell is Jamie; his cologne, his cold rings, his smooth skin on yours. both of your lips are sticky with lipgloss, and the noises your mouths make together make you blush. Jamie slides his hand from your face to your neck, running his thumb down your throat as he continues to tangle your tongues together. the touch pulls a low whine from your throat, and you completely lose the strength to hold yourself up.

your hand leaves his hair and quickly finds his tie, wrapping it around your fist and tugging it. you use the leverage to pull your back from the door before pressing the same hand into his chest.

Jamie reluctantly pulls his lips off of yours as you push against him. you're both breathless, panting with open mouths as you stare at each other. his pupils are dark and blown wide, breathing jagged, and his lips are even more plump than usual. yours feel equally as swollen, cheeks hot and hair messy.

without a word, you bend down, picking up your long discarded purse from the floor. turning your back to Jamie, you unlock the stall door and walk towards the sinks. dropping your purse on top of the marble, you run cold water over your hands in an attempt to cool yourself down before digging through your clutch. pulling out a bobby pin, you fix a rogue strand of hair which has fallen out of your updo. as you do so, Jamie appears from the stall, hair no longer messy. he catches your eyes in the mirror and smirks at you. as he passes you by, he brings his palm up to slap your ass, making your disheveled expression form into a smile.

you watch his back as he leaves the bathroom, and the fact he doesn't turn to glance at you makes you part your lips and huff, impressed by his sudden composure. turning back to the mirror, you stare at yourself. your cheeks are flushed, lips red and swollen, and your legs shake beneath you. holding the sink for support, you lean forward, fanning your face with your hand in an attempt to cool your skin. the door squeaks open, and you quickly stand up straight and pretend to fix the hair around your face.

a brunette woman you don't recognise walks in, and you send her a polite smile through the mirror's reflection. "having a good night are we?" she grins knowingly, scrunching up her nose and raising her eyebrows. you let out a surprised cackle, quickly shaking your head and shrugging; "just fixing my makeup, you know how it goes."

"right..." she drawls, winking at you before she disappears into a stall. you sigh out a breath, glad it wasn't Keeley or Rebecca walking in on you, even though they would probably have a few tips to make yourself look less sloppy after you and Jamie's heated make out.

sure, you weren't exactly playing the game of tension they were talking about, but your kiss with Jamie was worth every second. you wouldn't have lasted flirting with him all evening without knowing what he tasted like. the feeling of his lips on yours, hands pressed against your back while you clawed at his hair, is going to replay in your mind all evening, and you hope you won't be going home alone.

pulling your lipgloss from your bag, you quickly dab some more on your still-puffy lips. hoping all traces of Jamie are gone, you clip your clutch closed and head for the door. as you push through into the hallway, the loud chatter of the event reverberates through the walls, and adrenaline sets in again. you decide against returning to the ballroom just yet, walking down the hallway and to the small bar at the end of it.

"y/n!" Sam beams as you meet him at the bar. you get the attention of the bartender.

"I'll try the peachy keen, please," turning to face Sam you say: "how are you, Samuel?"

"I'm doing good, what about you?" he laughs at your use of his full name.

"hungry! I'm so excited for the meal and the auction and everything," you say, accepting your cocktail from the bartender with a "thank you so much."

"ah, really? are you going to bid on Jamie?" Sam asks with a grin.

"ha!" you cackle, "Jamie wishes I'd bid on him! but... I don't really think I can afford the auction anyways. Keeley said it goes into the tens of thousands!"

"I think Jamie would do it for free if it was you bidding on him, he's obsessed with you." Sam takes a sip of his drink, and you arch your eyebrows; "really?" you ask.

"oh yes, for sure... but I don't think I need to tell you that," he says with a smirk on his face.

"what do you mean?" you shrug nervously, already picturing Jamie's dark eyes when you pulled away from him in the bathroom stall. you bring your sweet drink to your lips in attempt to distract yourself.

"well, I saw him stumble out of the women's restrooms a few minutes ago. he's not very good at hiding his certain excitement, if you know what I mean,"

Sam's words take you aback, and you snort into your drink and cough as you place the glass down. you wipe the splatters from your face and look up at him with a shocked look.

he continues, the smirk on his face growing even more devilish; "and then I see you walking out of the same bathroom a few minutes later... which makes me think that maybe... you were in there together?"

you inhale deeply, raising you eyebrows and smiling at him. picking up your glass from the bar, you turn to walk away. "I will speak to you later, Sam. enjoy your meal." you say politely, and he laughs at you as you turn and head through the doors and back into the large ballroom.

contrary to when you arrived, the carpeted room is now bustling with people. you stand still in front of the door, stunned by the crowds. you can hear the familiar laughter and shouts of the Richmond players, but you can't see them. you look over to the stage to see Rebecca standing beside it, nervously discussing something with Higgins. glancing back towards the bar you had previously found Jamie at, his place is now taken by Roy and Keeley as they stand close together. her hand holds his arms as he looks down at her lovingly, a content smile resting on his face. you smile at their interaction, the gentle side of both of them is a rare sight at work, and it's as if they're all alone in this room full of people.

"excuse me ladies and gentlemen," Rebecca's voice sounds through speakers around the room. chatter dies down as everyone turns their attention to the stage, where Rebecca is standing behind a microphone.

"thank you so very much for coming," she pauses as the chatter dies down quickly, "dinner is going to be served soon, so if everybody could please find their seats, that would be delightful." everyone applauds Rebecca as she smiles and walks off the stage. you beeline towards her, awkwardly smiling at people as you push past them. standing next to the stage, Rebecca is flattening non-existent creases in her dress as she now talks to Ted.

"it's gonna be amazing, boss, don't you worry!" you hear Ted chirp as you approach the two. sensing your presence, Rebecca turns her head and smiles at you.

"oh, y/n, thank goodness you're here." she breathes.

your face contorts into a puzzled look as you glance at Ted whose face is still in his classic closed mouth smile; "we arrived together," you chuckle to yourself, and her face of realisation makes the three of you laugh. "let's go find our seats." you say, and you look back to Ted, "will you be sitting with us, coach?"

the three of you move towards the tables, and Rebecca guides you to table nine, smack down in the middle of the ballroom.

"that's right! I can't wait to tell Roy about my new uniform designs,"

"it's called a kit, coach," Beard suddenly appears next to Ted, Jane beside him.

"well we'll have to make them thermal then... winter is coming!" Ted says proudly, snapping his fingers with a chuckle.

you look up at Beard, completely confused. "Game of Thrones," he says in a flat tone. from beside him, Jane also speaks up in the same way; "Kit Harington."

"ah," you say, the awkward smile on your face fading as you turn away from the encounter, shaking your head as you walk to the other side of the table. pulling out the chair directly across from Ted, you're facing the stage with your back to the rest of the tables. as you move to sit down, however, Rebecca stops you.

"wait, okay, hold on," she circles the table, stopping at each chair and crouching down. your brows furrow as you watch her, clueless as to what she was doing. she brings her hands up in front of her face, holding her fingers in an L-shape as she frames her vision. "perfect..." she stands up straight and pulls out the chair in front of her, "this is your seat."

the antics make you laugh, giving in and moving two seats to the left and sitting down; "thanks?"

"you're so very welcome," her tone is sincere, as if she didn't just dance around the table choosing you a chair. she sits down in the seat to your right, immediately grabbing for one of the complimentary bottles of white wine set in the centre of the table. screwing open the top, she fills your glass first, all the way up to the brim. she does the same for her glass, almost making it overflow, before putting the wine bottle back into its ice bucket.

"Rebecca, oh my God," you widen your eyes at her with a smile, and her mischievous smirk makes you laugh. "I've already paid for it! we might as well drink it." as the two of you giggle, you raise your glasses and clink them together, some wine spilling over the rim as you cheers.

"hey! wait for me!" Keeley runs over, Roy trailing behind her, before lifting her cocktail up to join your toast, "here's to y/n shagging Jamie tonight!"

your hand flies to your mouth in shock and you shush her, glancing around to see if anyone heard her vulgar words. the only other guest who heard her comment was Roy, who smiles at you sympathetically before muttering "fucking gross," under his breath as he sits down. Keeley playfully sticks her tongue out at you before moving to sit beside between Rebecca and Roy. she leans over closer to you and Rebecca as Roy fills their glasses with wine; "have you seen Jamie's pocket square, by the way?"

you don't need to be looking in the mirror to know the intense blush that just set across your cheeks as you avoid looking at her. Rebecca furrows her brows and shakes her head, looking between you and Keeley. you suck in your lips and close your eyes, knowing what Keeley is about to say.

"it's the same as y/n's dress!" she whisper yells, and you reluctantly open one eye to see Rebecca's reaction.

"what the fuck?!" her eyes shoot open wide as her head snaps to look at you. you stay quiet, opening your other eye and bearing your teeth in a wide grimace. "how did he get a piece of your dress?" Rebecca says to you in a hushed tone before her face drops, "oh my God, y/n, don't tell me you've already slept with him."

now it's your turn to widen your eyes in a shocked expression; "Jesus, no!" you say, slightly offended by Rebecca's assumption. she, Keeley, and Roy stare at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue.

"what?" you ask them, nervously chugging the rest of your peach cocktail. none of them speak as they watch you drink, and you roll your eyes before explaining: "he went dress shopping with me and I guess the tailor made him a pocket square for tonight. I swear I had no idea he was going to do that! he did it behind my back."

Keeley squints at you, clearly not believing a word you say. when you look at Rebecca, she pouts her lips and nods, but you can't decipher whether it's in reassurance or mockery. "I believe you," Roy suddenly says, "he's a possessive little bitch, he would definitely pull this shit."

you chuckle at his words, and he sends you a quick wink with a small smile. as you look past Roy, your smile drops, not giving you the chance to return the wink, and Rebecca says what you're thinking: "speak of the devil,"

"you talkin' bout me?" Jamie says, firmly placing his hands on Roy's shoulders as he stands behind him. a cocky grin plasters his face as he stares down at you, quickly winking at you as your mouth falls slightly open.

"let go of me." Roy states, face stone cold as he stares ahead. Jamie doesn't follow his order, simply squeezing Roy's shoulders and shaking him side to side. "I'll kill you." Roy says again, but Jamie ignores him.

"Rebecca?" he asks sweetly, taking his time to drag his eyes off of you and look at the woman next to you, "why can't I sit at this table?"

"oooh..." Ted says, watching intently as Rebecca folds her arms on the table. Jamie's tight-lipped smile is sweet, but fake, and Rebecca mirrors his expression. she inhales deeply, tilting her head to the side as she looks up at him.

"because I said so, Jamie." she says, and your eyebrows arch as you bite back a smile when he glances at you, his cocky expression now cracking slightly. his grin turns into a pout as he gasps for a response. "but-" he starts, but Rebecca interrupts his rebuttal: "because I pay you to play football for me, Jamie, not to accompany me to dinner."

Roy bursts into a loud laugh, gaining everyone's attention as the table goes completely silent. Jamie slides his hands from his shoulders, startled by the sound of his laughter. Keeley giggles from beside Roy, covering her mouth to hide it. the whole table looks at him, amused smiles creeping up your faces. Jamie, on the other hand, looks defeated, eyes finding yours again. he sends you a sad look, pouting his lips. silently, you lift your shoulders in a shrug, smiling at him. your smile is sincere and warm, despite his opposite expression. still, since your encounter in the bathrooms not too long ago, your heart is finding it hard not to be fond of Jamie as you look at him. you'd like to keep up the tension-filled flirtatious banter, but since feeling the pressure of his mouth on yours, you can't help but long for the next time you'll get to taste him.

"good one, Rebecca," Roy finally speaks, falling back into his blunt normality as he brings his drink to his mouth.

Jamie composes himself, rolling his eyes before glancing at everyone at the table; "whatever," he mutters, looking straight at you again, "see you during the auction, y/n," he winks before turning and walking away, clearly quickly recovering from the embarrassment.

Rebecca and Keeley slowly turn towards you, mouths agape, and the three of you wait a few seconds before squealing in excitement.

"holy shit!" Keeley says, reaching across Rebecca to grab your hand, "he wants you!" she growls, and you all share another screech as you process Jamie's parting words.

"who wants who?!" a voice interjects your noise, matching your excitement with an amused tone and a wide smile. you look to your left as the same brunette from the bathroom sits down in the free seat next to you. your expression drops as you feel the blood drain from your face, contrasting the deep blush Jamie had just given you. she catches your eye and smiles wide; "hey! we're at the same table, what a coincidence!"

"Sassy Smurf?!" Ted hangs his head to the side to try and see her face. she immediately turns to him, opening her arms wide as they match each other's wide smiles. "Marlboro Man!" she shouts, and they embrace in a quick hug. the interaction both warms your heart and confuses you, turning to give Rebecca a questioning look. you're overwhelmed by all of the interactions you've had since sitting down at the table, and at this point you have no idea how the evening is going to pan out.

Rebecca smiles at you, interrupting Ted and the mystery woman's conversation to introduce you; "y/n, this is Flo, my best friend,"

"since childhood," she includes, "and you can just call me Sassy, it makes me feel more interesting," she smiles and winks at you as she holds out a hand for you to shake. you take it, repeating Rebecca by saying "I'm y/n, it's so lovely to meet you."

"y/n is our receptionist at Richmond, and she's really good," Keeley says, "she gets along with literally everyone, especially Jamie Tartt." she smirks at Sassy and raises her eyebrows suggestively.

Sassy turns to look at you wide eyes, an intrigued smile spreading across her face as she looks at you. you can almost see the cogs turning in her mind, and your face falls as you try to shake your head as subtly as possible. panic starts setting in as you realise she's connecting the dots between you in the bathroom and the conversation at the table, and you hope your wide eyes tell her not to mention your post-Jamie run in.

"ooh," she drawls, elongating the vowels as she nods her head. you hold your breath, hoping she understood your silent plea. "yeah, he's not really my type but, go get it babe," she sends you a cheeky grin and raises her brows at you. you feel the back of her hand tap the side of your thigh in reassurance as she turns her back to you; "so Ted, how have you been?" you hear her say, and you sigh in relief before drinking as much wine as you can in one gulp.

everyone quickly moves on, diving into their own conversations. Ted and Sassy seem to know each other quite well, Sassy leaning close to him as he speaks, making him blush. Rebecca must notice your confused expression, interrupting her own chat with Keeley and Roy to lean in to your ear; "they've slept together a few times." your eyes widen as you dramatically scoop your head to the side to look at Rebecca. you exchange knowing smiles, and her eyes soften as she looks at you. furrowing your brows as you notice her expression change, you're about to ask her if everything's okay, but she beats you to it.

"as much as we tease you about it," she starts, "Keeley and I think you and Jamie are perfect for each other. I can see how much you like him and -- not that he's hiding it very well -- but I can tell he is utterly in love with you."

you open your mouth to contest, but Rebecca holds a hand up to stop you; "I promise, y/n. now, during the auction, I want you to bid whatever amount needed to win him. don't worry about the cost, I'll cover it."

"oh- absolutely not!" you gawk at Rebecca, "you can't buy me a dress and a man!"

"of course I can. I'm the boss, remember?" her voice is stern as she pats your thigh.

"please, I'm begging you, just take the dress out of my paycheck." your eyes are pleading as you clasp your hands together. she shakes her head at you and tsks; "none of it. now, let's eat."

as if on cue, dozens of waiters appear out of nowhere, carrying platters of plates. first they bring the chicken, then the steak. you all dig into your dinner, and the food is delicious - not surprising, Rebecca would never settle for less than perfect. you eat, drink, and laugh, especially with Sassy beside you, her numerous offhand comments making you laugh louder than you normally would if you didn't have this much alcohol running through your veins. you notice the way Ted looks at her, even when she's speaking to someone else, and you recognise it as similar to the way Jamie looked at you in the dress boutique earlier this week. his eyes are soft and features relaxed, a small smile resting comfortably on his lips. his pupils are big, and his chest moves up and down slowly as he breathes -- he seems completely at ease, despite the hustle and bustle of the room. it makes you think of seeing Keeley and Roy earlier, looking at each other as if they were the only ones here, not a care in the world about who's around them. you smile to yourself before turning your attention back to the story Sassy is telling, some retelling of a funny memory she shares with Rebecca.

Keeley laughs at her words, and the sound is just infectious, making you laugh more than the story itself. your eyes move to look at Roy, who looks at Keeley with soft eyes identical to Ted's. you huff a small laugh to yourself, it going unnoticed by those around you as they're all engrossed in the conversation. Roy stares at Keeley with such adoration that it tugs at your heartstrings. their chairs are pulled close together, and his arm is draped over the back of her chair as she leans into him ever so slightly. her wine glass sits in her hand as she laughs, and each time she does, Roy smiles to himself. you doubt he's even listening to Sassy's tale, completely distracted by Keeley's joy. he's infatuated with her, and you can tell by the way she continues to crack his hard exterior. you wonder what he's like with her behind closed doors; you bet she has him walking around wearing her signature pink robe.

you look down at your hands, admiring the manicure you got in preparation for the event. the glossy light pink colour matches the details of your outfit, and you're still surprised at how comfortable your dress is. you run your fingers over the blue sequins, seeing how they reflect the chandeliers above you. you can't believe Jamie's little stunt he pulled -- when did he even ask Sarah to make him that pocket square? you look over your left shoulder, trying to find him at the table behind you, but he's not there. when you look to your right and past Rebecca, you see a table with Richmond staff, but no still no Jamie. scanning the countless people at the event, you can't seem to spot him.

it seems you were looking too far, however, as when you look at the table diagonal to yours, also in the middle of the room, your eyes land on him immediately. he's already looking at you, lids low on his eyes as he stares. you quickly glance away, trying to hide the fact you were looking for him, but you can feel his eyes burning into the side of your face. he's sitting with other Richmond players, but doesn't seem engaged with them at all as he stares at you. you have no idea of knowing how long he's been staring at you, but decide to meet his eyes again. as predicted, he's still looking in your direction. unlike usually, his face isn't cocky or teasing. instead, his eyes are soft and dark, and his mouth is closed in a small and subtle smile, probably unaware of its presence on his face. your gentle smile morphs into a shy one as he doesn't break away from your stare.

looking back to your lap, you touch your fingertips up to brush your lips, replaying every second of your kiss with Jamie in the bathroom. your skin recalls each goosebump as you imagine the way his hands ran up your spine. as you remember the taste of his tongue against yours, a blush takes over your face and your vision blurs. days of tension and patient waiting were interrupted by that first kiss, and you hope that wasn't your last.

—

the evening continues smoothly; you all finish your meals and continue emptying the wine bottles. warmth runs through your veins as alcohol mixes with contentment, and you fight the urge to blurt out something stupid about Jamie in your conversations. this proves to be made extra hard with him in your peripheral vision, and you can feel his eyes on you every time you laugh. you get more flustered the more wine you drink, and it's a true struggle not to stand up, take Jamie's hand, and take him home.

your engrossed in conversation with Sassy and Ted when Rebecca speaks into the microphone on the stage. you hadn't even noticed her leaving the table, a testament to your tunnel vision after a few drinks. Keeley shuffles over to sit next to you, and you see Roy standing up from the table. he buttons his suit jacket swiftly as he slides past the other tables and towards the stage. Keeley grabs your hand and squeals; "time for the auction! I will literally kill anyone that bids on Roy."

"ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for coming to support this year's annual Benefit for Underprivileged Children gala!"

the room breaks into a loud applause at Rebecca's words, and you take the opportunity to glance at Jamie. this time, to your surprise, he's not looking at you. his eyes are focused on the stage, and you use his distraction to look him up and down, eyes lingering on his pocket square. dragging your eyes upwards again, you notice Sam looking at you. he's sitting right next to Jamie, and is clapping absentmindedly as he stares at you with a challenging look, eyes squinting. you ignore him, quickly facing the stage again.

"now for the part you've all been waiting for," Rebecca continues, "the auction for a chance to spend an all-expenses paid evening with one of Richmond FC's very own football players!" everyone claps again, and the cheers get louder as Roy makes his way onto the stage. you jump at the sound of Keeley screaming beside you, her arms in the air as she claps for her boyfriend. his face remains expressionless as he lifts a hand up to salute to Keeley, and she does the same. she grabs your arm with one hand as the other holds her bidding paddle at the ready.

"I love it when he acts all 'I'm Roy and I don't smile'" she puts on a gruff voice as she smiles, "I just keep trying to make him crack!"

"first up, Roy Kent." Rebecca says, gesturing as Roy steps up to the microphone.

he takes a deep breath before using his best deadpan voice to say: "if any of you, other than Keeley Jones, put up your hand, I'll have you escorted out of here." the crowd laugh at his words, but his face stays cold as Keeley throws her paddle up into the air; "twenty-five thousand!" she shouts with a beaming smile, standing up from her seat with a small jump. "sold to the lovely lady in the puffy skirt!" Roy says into the mic before Rebecca even has the chance. Keeley squeals as Roy immediately exits the stage, making his way back over to the table. when he reaches Keeley, she throws her arms around his neck and kisses him sweetly. Ted coos at the gesture, and the players behind you cheer and ooh at the couple obnoxiously. Roy flips them off as he keeps his lips on Keeley's, and it makes you think of Jamie again.

when you flick your eyes over to his seat, you find it empty, but Sam still manages to catch your eyes again. you curse under your breath before forcing a smile. he points to the stage and when you turn your head, you see Jamie standing on the stage next to Rebecca. the spotlights make his pocket square sparkle, and the sight makes your heart beat faster than it should. "he's a possessive little bitch" Roy's words run circles around your head, and you can't help but admit you don't mind his possessiveness -- only when it comes to you.

"next we have a free meal with unlimited wine at the luxurious Richmond Hill Hotel with the one and only Jamie Tartt!" Rebecca exclaims, "and if the lucky bidder gets even luckier, she can have one night's stay in the hotel included!"

your cheeks flush a deep crimson as your mouth drops open wide. Sassy turns to you with a loud gasp, and Keeley cackles as she grabs your hand, bouncing up and down in her seat. your hands cover your mouth as you duck your head shyly, your entire table encouraging you to reach for your paddle. you finally make eye contact with Jamie, who is biting his lip with a teethy grin. he shoots you one of his classic winks and you sigh, picking up the paddle.

"let's start at five thousand for Jamie," Rebecca says.

you're about to put your number in the air, but someone else beats you to it. you look to the right, following the voice repeating the number, only to see Roy with his paddle in the air. the room erupts in laughter, including Jamie. Roy looks at you and winks; "we could get some extra training in," and he cracks you a smile.

"five thousand for Roy Kent? okay," Rebecca says as she holds back a laugh. her eyes are on you as she continues; "six thousand?"

finally lifting your paddle, you call out: "six thousand!"

Jamie smiles as Rebecca says your name into the microphone. unlike at the table earlier, his face is back to a cocky grin. strong arms crossed in front of his chest, his chin is held high as he runs his tongue across his teeth. his eyes are glued to yours, so you take it upon yourself to drag them up and down his body, enjoying the view. his trousers are tight around his thighs, and his arms practically bulge out of the suit jacket. how had you not noticed this earlier? how big he looks in the fitted outfit, and how much you like his blonde hair, and how the button up shirt he's wearing isn't white, but is actually the same shade of dusty pink as your shoes. your lips part as you realise just how much you two are matching, and your brows furrow in feigned anger. Jamie smirks as he sees you looking him up and down, but you decide to tease him just a bit more.

"do I hear seven thousand?"

eyes on his, you refuse to lift your paddle, despite Sassy trying to lift your hand. keeping it tucked under your crossed legs, you don't make any move to bid on him.

"seven thousand pounds!" you hear from behind you, and you turn to see Sam's hand in the air. everyone laughs again, and his joke starts a ripple effect amongst the football players.

"ten thousand." Isaac says bluntly, and when Jamie blows him a kiss from the stage he says: "love you, bruv!"

the bidding goes through a number of players dotted throughout the room until finally, the number reaches nineteen thousand.

"any more for any more?" Rebecca hopes, glaring at you.

Keeley drums on the table suddenly, and Sassy is quick to join in. soon, Roy, Ted, Beard, and even Jane are all tapping the table, giving you a drum roll.

"twenty thousand!" you shout, shaking your head as you throw your eyes to the sky. Rebecca doesn't give the chance for any more bids, immediately saying: "sold for twenty thousand to y/n y/l/n!"

Jamie laughs as he looks down at you, and you bite your lip as he mouths to you; "you're mine."

—

with the auction finished, and some of the Richmond players paired up with new potential wags, most of the tables are empty. although Rebecca couldn't hire the real ABBA, Higgins managed to find a more-than-decent cover band to take the stage as musical guest. you bounce up and down to the rhythm of the music, hand-in-hand with Rebecca. you spin her around, and she does the same to you as you sing along to the classic 'Dancing Queen', and you point to her every time the chorus plays. you laugh and cackle as you scream along to the songs, dancing with Rebecca and Keeley, and sometimes Sassy. allegedly, Roy doesn't dance, so Keeley has resorted to dancing on her own. she has long discarded her heels, and you wish you had the balls to do the same.

when the song switches to 'Chiquitita', Keeley collapses against Rebecca's chest, clutching her tightly in a hug. Sassy whispers something to Ted, who has been krumping the whole time, before they both disappear through the double doors into the hallway you had pulled Jamie through earlier. you smile as you watch them walk away, hand-in-hand. when you turn back to Keeley and Rebecca, you're surprised to see Sam standing in front of you, hand outstretched. you take it with a shy smile, and he pulls you close. you put a hand on his shoulder as he leans down, but he keeps the hand not holding yours to himself; how respectful. together, you move side to side as he has to shout in your ear to be heard above the music.

"where's Jamie?" he asks.

"I don't know," you reply, standing cheek to cheek so he can hear you.

"you look stunning tonight, y/n."

"thank you, Sam! you look great!" when you saw him at the bar earlier, you hadn't completely recovered from Jamie, so you hadn't noticed his sophisticated look for the night.

"I know you and Jamie were in the bathroom together," he says, ignoring your compliment, "and I noticed your matching outfits."

you roll your eyes, pulling him close to you so you can explain yourself; "I didn't know how was going to do that! Roy said he was being possessive."

"and Roy is right...," he says, twirling you around using your entwined hands, and he stops your spin halfway, allowing your eyes to fall on a sulking Jamie, "now go talk to Jamie. I've gotten him all jealous and bothered, now you have to handle the rest while I try to talk to Rebecca."

turning to face Sam again, you laugh wildly, slapping his arm as you pretend to be upset at his antics. he matches your expression, cackling as shakes his hips. you hold your pointer finger up to him, quickly grabbing his hand again and pulling him towards Rebecca, who is still holding Keeley in her arms. their height difference is exacerbated by Keeley's missing shoes, and her eyes are closed as she rests her head on Rebecca's chest. your boss looks at you, pursing her lips as she holds back her laughter. you move closer to her; "Sam has no one to dance with, maybe you can lend him a hand?" you say before leaning down to whisper in Keeley's ear. "Sam is here." you say, and she doesn't need any more information before standing up straight and dancing through the crowd and out of sight.

pushing Sam towards Rebecca, you let go of his hand, quickly fixing the twisted strap on your pumps before stepping back onto the carpet. fittingly so, the band starts singing 'Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!', and you smirk to myself as you walk towards Jamie. his jacket is unbuttoned, pockets hanging loosely at his side. with his head down, he has one hand in his pocket and the other fidgeting with a toothpick on top of the table. he doesn't notice you approach, so you move to stand behind him. you bend over slightly, folding your arms over his shoulders as you hold your face next to his. Jamie, stubborn as always, doesn't react to your presence, so you flatten your palms against his midriff, feeling his hard abs beneath his shirt. this makes him sit up slightly, taking a hand out of his pocket and placing it over your hands.

"isn't it funny you're at table six, and I was at table nine..." you say in his ear, but he ignores your silly comment.

your fingers drag up painfully slowly, reaching his chest before he drops his hand down. his chest moves up and down rapidly as he borderline pants at your touch. separating your hands, you bring them across his chest firmly before pulling them up to his shoulders. you squeeze his solid muscles, secretly admiring his strength.

"there's not a soul out there," you whisper along to the song, lips brushing his ear, "no one to hear my prayer,"

"Jamie," your voice is sultry in his ear, knowing exactly what you want from him right now. the song isn't helping your heated state, the bass pumping in your flushed chest. he tips his head back as you continue to massage his shoulders, resting it in the crook of your neck. you can see every inch of the soft skin on his throat, and you drag your eyes over his adam's apple as it bobs with his nervous gulp. stopping the movement of your fingers, Jamie stands up abruptly, buttoning his jacket with shaky hands.

smirking as you look up at him, he clenches his jaw and shakes his head as if telling you not to say anything. without another word, he takes your hand in his, interlocking your fingers tightly, and walks towards the door. he pushes through the first set of double doors, you in tow, before suddenly coming to a halt. you stand beside him, both of you silent for a few seconds. torrential rain slaps the pavement outside of the venue, and you look at your clothes with wide eyes. he does the same, and when your eyes meet again, you both laugh. his hand comes up to brush his air back as he looks out at the rain, but your eyes are glued to his bicep. the seams of jacket look like they're about to burst as he flexes his muscles, and your smile fades into an O-shape as your jaw slacks. yes, he's a professional footballer, but he's so big, and so muscular. your eyes drop down as you lean back, taking a glimpse of his backside, and that is definitely a rugby ass.

"fuck it," he mumbles, pulling you from your trance, and before you know it he's pulling you outside. you rush down the steps, squeezing his hand tight so you don't slip, before running to the street corner. there's a line of black cabs picking up guests, and Jamie pulls open the door to one. holding open the door for you, he lets you crawl in first, before ducking down.

"hi!" you chirp to the driver as Jamie climbs in next to you, "sorry you have to drive in this weather," you apologise before giving him your address through the plastic privacy partition. the driver closes it, so you buckle your seatbelt, and once Jamie's shut the door, he does the same.

"we're going to yours?" he asks, pushing his dripping wet hair out of his eyes.

"yeah." you say simply, smiling at him. you're sure you look like a drowned rat, and you hope your makeup isn't running down your face. despite only being in the rain for a minute or so, you're both completely soaked.

you look at each other for a few seconds as the driver takes off, and you can't help but laugh at each other's appearance.

"you look like you do after training, but... worse," you giggle, pushing a misplaced strand of his hair over.

"and you look... just a little bit melted," he laughs, "but still gorgeous." while you laugh, your lip quivers as you shiver from the cold rain, so he shrugs off his wet jacket, laying it over your legs in a poor attempt to keep you warm, but it's the thought that counts.

turning to look through the window, the air suddenly grows a little bit awkward. five minutes ago you were ready to let him do whatever he wanted to you, and now you're sitting next to each other in a silent cab completely drenched from the rain. you sigh, thinking about your next move. you want to reach over the middle seat and take his hand in his -- quite frankly, you'd prefer to straddle him and make out with him right here and now. but you stick with your first option, glancing down at your lap before sliding your hand over and taking his. as you fold your fingers together you bring his hand up, brushing your lips over the back of it as you kiss each of his knuckles. you don't look at him, just hold his hand in your lap as you continue staring out the window.

the drive continues in silence for a few more minutes, before Jamie clears his throat. eyes glued to the street, you don't look at him when he speaks; "aren't you happy you won me in the auction?" you can hear the smirk in his voice as he says it, and you roll your eyes with a smile.

"is this our free date night, then? because I was actually going to give it to my dad as a birthday gift, he loves you." you reply, still avoiding turning to him.

"I'll make sure he tells you how good I am in the bedroom," this makes you snap your head towards him, mouth agape, and he laughs at your expression as he tosses his head back against the car seat. you laugh along with him, staring at his bright smile. your eyes drop down and look at how his wet button up clings to his skin, and suddenly your heart beat speeds up again.

attempting to calm yourself, you look at the jacket draped over your lap. reaching for its pocket, you pull the folded blue fabric out of it. you hold it up to Jamie, raising your eyebrows in silent question. his expression falls sheepish again, smile fading. he glances out the window briefly before turning to you again, concerned look on his face.

"y/n, I just wanna say -- I'm sorry if me wearin' that pocket square made you uncomfortable. I guess I was so wrapped up in all of the flirting and everythin' that I didn't think about how it would look wearin' that tonight," his words are sincere as he looks at you with furrowed brows.

"Jamie," you whisper, eyes softening as you process his worry, "thank you for apologising, but don't worry. sure, it was surprising, but honestly I think it's really fit..."

his worried look turns to confusion as he puckers his lips; "what? are you serious?" he asks you, eyebrows arched.

"yes, Jamie, I'm being very serious. why do you think I took you to the bathroom and made out with you?" you say, absentmindedly playing with the fingers wrapped around your hand.

his eyes look to the ceiling of the car, and he licks his lips as he thinks hard. sighing, he starts slowly nodding his yet; "yeah... I guess so... well-played." he says, winking at you, and suddenly he's back to his regular, teasing self.

"so, why aren't we going to my superstar footballer mansion?" he asks, lips frowning in a grimace.

"because my penthouse flat is right here," you say, ducking your head down and pointing out of his window. the cab stops right in front of the small car park of your apartment. it's not a big building by any means, so it's more like a drive way that have a few cars parked on it. Jamie looks up at the four-storey building before looking at you with a bored expression.

"penthouse?" he repeats, pointing his thumb out the window, "how luxurious." he rolls his eyes before digging through his trouser pocket, pulling out a money clip.

"a money clip?" your tone now matches his, "what are you? fifty?"

"here ya go, sir," he hands a wad of cash to the taxi driver without even knowing how much the ride was. he ignores your comment, opening the door and holding it for you. you pass him his jacket, and when you step out of the car, he throws it over your shoulders. the rain is still lashing, and you make a run for the front door as Jamie closes the cab door and thanks the driver.

you hold your clutch over your head as you try to shield your hair from any more rain, but you doubt it helps at all. you knock on the double doors to the entrance, and the doorkeeper sitting in his small booth inside buzzes you in. Jamie catches up with you and places a hand on the small of your back as you walk inside. you shrug his jacket off, handing it to him as you make your way to the lift. he folds it over his arm, and smiles at the doorkeeper as you walk past his desk. you press the button to call the lift, and the doors immediately open.

"Jamie Tartt?" he asks out loud, completely bewildered.

the two of you step inside the lift, and when Jamie turns to face him with a friendly face, he holds a finger to his lips as if to shush him. the door slides closed, and the doorkeeper remains in shock the entire time. leaning against the wall, you stare up at Jamie with an amused grin, but the second the lift starts its ascent, Jamie turns to you. he grabs your face and crashes his lips onto yours. your hand flies up to clutch his wrist as you lose yourself to his touch. you waste no time slipping your tongue into his mouth again, and you feel like you can finally breathe. all evening you imagined doing this again, and now your body shivers as the anticipation comes to an end.

the lift stops, and Jamie stands up instantly, clearing his throat. you're left panting against the mirrored wall of the lift as it dings and the doors open. Jamie stands aside, holding out a hand as he beckons for you to walk in front of him. pushing yourself up, you pop open your clutch to dig for your keys. when you walk past Jamie he, of course, gives you a small slap to your ass. you squeak at the noise, but don't say anything else, pulling your housekeys from your bag. Jamie follows you around the corner and towards your door, and when you unlock it and push it open, the warmth of your apartment feels like heaven on your wet skin.

"it's small, but it's all I need really," you explain to Jamie as you walk towards your sofa. "nah, it's nice," he smiles at you sweetly, the opposite to the way he looked at you in the lift.

your living room and kitchen are conjoined, and the space definitely isn't the biggest, but its coziness welcomes you. dropping yourself onto the plush couch, you sink into the pillows, staring at Jamie. he clicks the door shut behind him before slipping off his dress shoes and placing them next to your doormat, right beside your work shoes. he turns and walks towards you, unbuttoning his jacket and throwing it over the arm of your grey sofa. you expect him to sit down next to you, but instead, he crouches down, kneeling on the ground proposal-style. quickly sitting up, you stare down at him skeptically, wondering what his next move is. his eyes hold yours as he slides his hands up your calves, and goosebumps raise on the smooth skin instantly. leaning forward, Jamie pushes your dress an inch over your knees before gently kissing them. you can't help but laugh at the feeling, it tickling slightly due to your damp skin. his thumbs slide over the divots in your knees, and graze over some scar you've had since childhood.

his hands slide down your legs before he focuses his fingers on the clasp of your heels. lifting your right foot up slightly, he brings his lips to your ankle, kissing gently before sliding the pump off. he does the same to the your other foot, and the relief of having your shoes off makes you sigh as you hang your head back. Jamie presses his thumbs into the sole of your left foot, easily rubbing the knot out of the arch of your foot. a small whine slips from your lips at the feeling, and Jamie lets a low chuckle slip as he moves on to your other foot, doing the exact same thing. this time, you manage to hold back your groans, biting down on your bottom lip with your eyes screwed shut.

moving his lips back to your ankle, Jamie straightens out your leg, running kisses up the side of your calf. when he reaches your knee, he brings your leg back down before sliding his hands up to your thighs, one hand on each leg. you lift your head to look down at him, and his eyes hold a pleading look as he stares up at you. your lips part, completely invigorated by the sight of Jamie on his knee in front of you, hands hidden under your dress, practically begging to touch you. leaning forward, you take control, wrapping his tie around your fist as you pull up, helping him back to his feet. he holds his hands out for you, and you take them as he lifts you from the sofa. staring up at him, hands resting in his, your flutter your lashes.

"you okay?" Jamie whispers, a crooked smile appearing on your face.

you nod and hum in response, letting go of one of his hands and stepping past him. he follows you as you pull his hand, walking down the hallway. you pass the bathroom, heading straight for your bedroom. leaving the door open behind you, you push Jamie into the room ahead of you, letting go of his hand. he sits down at the end of your bed, legs spread. you slot between them, back turned to him. reaching up, his fingers delicately pull at the zip on the back of the dress as you pull down the straps, and you think back to the boutique; you knew you wanted tonight to end this way, but never in a million years had you actually thought it would.

as the dress drops from your frame, you hear Jamie's breath hitch at the sight of your pink lingerie. his hands immediately come to your waist, spinning you to face him. straddling his lap, your hands come up to his neck as his hold your back to keep you up. a smile creeps onto your face as your cheeks go hot, and Jamie mirrors you. moving to look down to avoid your gaze, his eyes snap up again immediately, flustered by the lace covering your body. a giggle escapes your lips as you pulls his face to yours, pressing kisses to each cheek before moving up to his forehead, then down to his nose, before finally reconnecting your lips.

deepening the kiss, your lips move against his with a hasty hunger, and as you're about to slip your tongue into his mouth again, Jamie pulls back; "oh shit," he says, and you shake your head in confusion.

"what?" you ask, embarrassment beginning to cloud your mind as you stare at him expectantly.

he avoids your eyes, shaking his head with his lips parted in thought; "I forgot to sign out after work today."

———

i told u this would be long x_x

thank u so so much for reading richmond's receptionist! i've had the most fun writing this and will probs write an epilogue asap (i'm not ready to move on yet)! any feedback is welcomed and appreciated, thank u! <3

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #ted lasso #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt x y/n #imagine #jamie fartt #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt x you #richmond's receptionist

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cjlouwho · 2 months ago

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I honestly saw so much of myself in tommy. I’m not out publicly, probably won’t ever be until after my mom passes (hopefully not anytime soon pls god), and I grew up terrified of my sexuality. I grew up in an environment that could have made me a right wing nut job in an instant. The school and church I went to, my town, certain family members, etc. we didn’t have internet back then for me to be informed. You could rarely find tv shows with lgbt+ characters, and they were usually made into jokes.

I saw a lot of myself in tommy. And the discussions about how he craves family and people who are there for him really resonated with me. I was certain it’d lead to him finding this family. To finding happiness. Something I hope for myself.

And then they left him in the dirt. Left him alone, sad and scared. And they didn’t say “just wait and see where it goes” they said “no this is the end for him” he’s gonna be a lonely, sad, gay man forever (show-wise). The entirety of 911 is about found family, it’s about growth, it’s about overcoming. Then they left behind one of the biggest growth-potential characters that they’ve had in years.

But hey, Maddie’s pregnant again so you can see that storyline replay! And you can see Bobby and Athena build a house. And Hen and Karen have more bad days than good! And Eddie do whatever the fuck he’s doing in his underwear. And Buck can go back to sleeping around just like he hated doing in season 1! And oh yeah that Brad guy will apparently never leave for god knows what reason!

#bucktommy #911 #tommy kinard #evan buckley

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something-ricked-this-way-comesx · 11 months ago

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Dick Prime

Warnings: (18+ only minors DNI), NSFW, 5k word count, fem reader, self- insert OC character, daddy kink, p in v, rick prime with feelings, big dick Rick, degradation a bit, rough sex, praise kink, marking kink, choking, orgasms, cream-pie, fingering, nipple play, manhandling, calling him God, age gap I guess

Hi guys, this is an excerpt chapter from a Rick Sanchez fan fic I have been working on - thought I'd share a little taste on here and see if I could get any feedback. This chapter in particular follows my self-insert, Aurora as she is kidnapped by Rick Prime - enjoy :) If y'all would like me to post and share my other chapters pls reblog or comment 💜

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

I woke up in a unfamiliar place٫ my head pounding viscously as my eyes struggled to adjust to the room around me. This place kind of looked like some sort of space motel room٫ but I couldn't remember a thing from the last 12 drunken hours of my life - I clearly needed to dial back my drinking or just not let Rick bet he can out drink me. I’ve never won that challenge. He really does have the hardest working liver in the universe, that's for damn sure. I wondered if he was feeling the same٫ but I doubted he was even remotely feeling hungover since he was used to getting black-out drunk on the regular.

I flicked my wrist out٫ wanting to portal into Rick’s shoddy bedroom where I could crawl into his sad excuse of a bed (which was really just a small sized cot) with him so that he could hold me tightly while we slept. That plan was quickly cut as I noticed my portal bracelet was no longer on my wrist and it was no where to be found anywhere near me - what the fuck was going on?

Then I realized where I was - the realization smacking me hard in the face like a fucking freight train. The elaborate sci-fi technical patterns covering every square inch of this room should have been a dead give away from the second I laid eyes on it٫ but I was obviously still too inebriated to use my cognitive functions correctly. I was in what I was 95% sure was Rick Prime’s lair - that fucking cocksucker. How had he managed to find me? Much less find a way to lure me back to where he's been hiding this whole time.

As I was taking in every inch of the room in search of any kind of weapon, maybe even some sort of weird sci-fi button on a wall that I could press and magically find a way out of here under Prime’s nose, I suddenly heard a voice behind me٫ the sound striking me so hard I jumped.

“Great you’re awake٫ care to join me for breakfast?” Prime’s voice asked as he nonchalantly yet menacingly stood in the doorway of the room٫ his shoulder leaning up against the doorframe.

“Oh fuck you!” I spit٫ words coming out of my mouth coated in venom like I was a snake ready to strike.

“Like you have a choice. It’s funny that you thought you did. Let's get something straight٫ you’re mine now٫ so it's best you learn early that you WILL do as I say or there will be consequences.”

“What do you even want from me? Wasn’t killing Diane enough for you?”

“Of course it wasn't٫ but you're not here so I can kill you unfortunately. You’re here because do you know how rare you are?” He paused٫ walking forward into the room causing me to back up back onto the bed like a frightened little mouse. Damn, his presence was so intense. He started pacing a bit٫ back and forth٫ arms crossed across his chest as he did so. He turned to me and looked me directly into my eyes before he started speaking again.

“Every conceivable Rick in the universe would happily serve their own balls on a platter for a little taste of what you have to offer - this makes you especially interesting to me. Not only are you one sexy piece of ass٫ you are a Rick’s gateway to so much unlocked potential.”

“Excuse me?”

“If ‘wife guy’ was smart he would have stolen your research from you a long time ago. Do you know how long it took for me to find you? It makes me horny just thinking about all that untapped knowledge you have floating around in that brain of yours.”

“Anything my Rick wanted from me he got because he asked for it. Sorry٫ but I don’t barter for things I created especially not to a sci-fi douchebag like you.”

“No one said anything about bartering. I’m simply going to take what I need via brain scan and then you’re going to put out like a good little girl because when in Rome.”

“My Rick is going to kill you ya know? You’ve taken enough from him and he isn’t going to let you take me too.”

“I’ve avoided him this long and clearly he hasn't learned his lesson yet. I’ve recreated the omega device and this time it can fire more than once٫ I’ll wipe out his entire family line he comes anywhere close to me. I’d kill you too if you weren't so valuable - you should be lucky that a guy like me finds any interest in anyone but himself.”

“You might think that you have me right where you want me٫ but I’m gonna enjoy watching my Rick kill you when he finds you and if you’re lucky maybe we’ll have sex next to your corpse.” I said٫ my words carrying through the air like poison coursing through my vascular system.

It probably wasn’t in my best interest to be taunting Prime the way I was٫ but I refused to let this son of a bitch have it easy especially when it was his dumb ass decision to kidnap me. He knew my Rick was looking for him and he knew he was getting close hence why he even bothered making such an elaborate take on his own already ‘overkill’ device. All that brain and this motherfucker couldn’t grasp the fact that killing peoples’ loved ones doesn’t really warrant being left alone.

“You think I couldn’t just take you right here if I wanted to? I’d bend you over that table and destroy that tight little pussy of yours and I just might considering you have no idea when to shut that bitch mouth of yours.” He grabbed me by the throat as he said that٫ squeezing the sides of my neck hard as he pulled me up and close to him. If I didn’t hate this Rick - I would have thought this interaction was so hot٫ too bad it was Prime.

“I’d like to see you try.” I said before spitting in his face٫ which in hindsight might have been a mistake٫ but it was too late to take it back.

Prime still had me by the neck٫ but he sighed heavily before shoving me onto the floor - catching myself on my hands before I hit the ground.

“Don’t even bother trying to use any of your cybernetics - I put a lock on all of your tech and good luck putting up much of a fight without it.”

---------- 2 weeks later —--------

Over the few weeks that I had been here٫ regardless of how much of an asshole Prime was٫ no matter what it was that I needed or asked (within reason) for he was quick to give it to me. He didn’t appreciate any of my back talk and if I overstepped too far he did with hold things from me as a punishment٫ but for the most part it seemed like his intentions with me weren’t entirely evil - something I not only found puzzling٫ but very difficult to believe was actually genuine.

I pushed the limits of what he would allow a little bit further everyday٫ hoping to gain his trust so that I would be able to either escape or find someway to get a message to my Rick. I still wasn't exactly sure where we even were in relation to the universe - the curve - or maybe we were outside it? It was hard to know with the very little freedom within this elaborate sci-fi base that I was allowed. The most I could do while here was think - run through multiple plans and assess the probability of success rate to each plan I thought of. Most٫ if not every٫ plan I had managed to conjure up was far from impervious to any snags or complete failure given then sheer innate ability of Rick Prime to always somehow be 10 steps ahead.

Today felt different though٫ I couldn't explain it٫ but as I sat across from him eating the breakfast that he had prepared for me - I could feel a different kind of tension in the air.

“Do you want to know why exactly you’re so special٫ Aurora?”

“I’m sure you’re gonna tell me even if I say no, so why the hell not?”

I was pushing around my eggs with my fork now٫ waiting patiently for his response. He kept telling me how ‘rare’ and ‘special’ I was to his grand design٫ but no matter how often he brought this up (which felt like constantly)٫ he refused to tell me how and why. Until now that is٫ which also struck me as weird.

“In order for you to even exist at all٫ Diane had to die you know? You’re familiar with the big bang I assume?”

“Nah٫ I just have a PhD in Quantum Physics for absolutely no reason at all - in fact٫ I just printed it off the internet completely fabricated credentials.” I said٫ the sarcasm clear in my tone as I spoke - I ran the risk of him punishing me for doing so٫ but he was usually lenient with my sarcasm since it matched his overt cynicism. It was my sharp tongue for disrespect and foul insults that really got under his skin.

“Well when I created the omega device to wipe out Diane٫ I didn't think to solve for any kinds of ripple effect that it might cause.”

“Meaning what exactly?”

“Well not completely unlike the big bang - the destruction of Diane’s life across infinity somehow resulted in the cataclysm that created X-258.”

“You’re saying you're responsible for me even existing? How is that even possible? Rapid succession in an inflationary epoch?”

“Precisely - well said. This means that without my omega device٫ you wouldn’t exist. How do you think ‘'wife guy” is going to react when he finds out that I literally made his new slam piece?”

“If you’re even telling the truth٫ which I suppose it is possible therefore also equally not possible by association. I guess given the rightly distribution of a negligible density gradient in order to deter the collapse into just a black hole and taking into consideration cosmic acceleration - I can’t disprove your theory٫ but that doesn’t mean you aren’t just bullshitting me right now.”

“As much as I love bullshitting and torturing other Rick’s for my own amusement٫ this is as real as real gets Aurora. You are only here because Diane had to die. You’re welcome and I’ll be accepting all forms of payment as a thank you٫ especially sexual favors.”

“Wow٫ so my whole life is a lie - imagine that.”

“You don’t seem too deeply affected by this revelation?”

“Did you expect me to lose my mind over a random occurring cosmological event? There was no way you knew your elimination of Diane would result in the formation of a universe that randomly produced me - so you did something by accident which is literally how 80% of all scientific findings usually occur. You aren’t special or interesting just because you managed to create a random event in spacetime - I do appreciate your massive need to milk your ego about it though.”

“Spoken like a true Rick - which you are as far as I’m concerned. The most intriguing out of any possible iteration.”

“So what exactly about that makes me so valuable to you?”

“Other than the fact that ‘'wife guy” loves you٫ according to my advanced research using your brain scans and blood and tissue samples٫ I should be able use both to develop the infinite Rick serum which would make me immortal. I’m not referencing no low grade cybernetic٫ tech bullshit either. I’m talking real٫ invincible immortality. An actual God with the power to create and destroy whatever and whoever I want - 100% unstoppable.”

“Wow٫ who could have possibly guessed that the power hungry evil٫ emo٫ sci-fi Rick with a nondescript haircut would want something so nuanced and lame? If you’re immortal that kind of takes away from the pay off does it not? Not that doing anything honorably is a concern of yours of course.”

“So what do you think about giving your input on something for me?”

“Once again - why bother even asking if you’re just going to make me do it anyways?”

“I guess to give you the illusion of free will or just maybe I kind of like you - don’t get a big head about it though I would still kill you without a second thought if I ever needed to.”

“Okay what exactly am I giving my input on?”

“I feel it may be best to just show you - meet me in the lab after you’ve finished your breakfast. Don’t keep me waiting long, it won’t end well for you.”

I rolled my eyes at his threatening tone as he got up from the table and left the room, I don’t know why I was so attracted to Prime the way I was - especially after what he did to my Rick, but I came to the ultimate conclusion that it was because him and my Rick were indeed so similar. The two Rickest Ricks in all of the infinite number of Rick’s that existed - the only two Rick’s to actually invent portal travel. In a way, my Rick only existed the way he did because of Prime’s destruction of his simple, domestic life. Prime was literally just my Rick without any sense of moral obligation and no matter how much I tried to convince myself that this fucker was bad and that I needed to distance myself - I simply couldn’t. I felt like my dna was so entangled up in having love for Rick that despite Prime’s obvious evil, I still loved him for simply just being a version of Rick. How fucked was that? Jesus fucking Christ - I needed out of here and soon before I really fucked up.

I finished my breakfast and headed out of the kitchen and into Prime’s elaborate sci-fi laboratory - this guy never did anything subtle that was for fucking sure and his attention to detail was absolutely infallible. He had something pulled up on the screen above where he was sitting and the closer I got, the more my eyes focused on the image. It was an image of me with a younger Rick, my Rick and Birdperson when we were together as freedom fighters on Glap-Flaps Third Moon. The Battle of Blood Ridge - this image was obviously a snapshot taken from my mind when Prime brain scanned me, but I didn’t really understand its significance to him. But, I’m sure he was going to tell me even if I didn’t exactly care to know.

“Blood Ridge?” I questioned, my arms crossed across my chest as I approached his sitting form and stood beside him to wait for his response.

“Seems like Nietzsche wasn’t totally blowing smoke out of his ass when he said that whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster -”

“And if you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back at you. What does Nietzsche have to do with Blood Ridge?” I cut him off by finishing the Friedrich Nietzsche quote he was referring to.

“Well I’m so glad you asked Aurora…” He started as he pulled up a replay of Rick and I’s interaction with Birdperson after the Battle had been won. I watched the playback intently, hoping to see something within my own memory that maybe I hadn’t noticed before in order to try to put together a theory of where exactly Prime was going with this.

-Playback from ‘Aurora’s Memory’ initiated-

Memory Rick: “Damn that shit was cash.”

Bird Person: “It was extremely bad ass. The Battle of Blood Ridge is over. The Federation lost. I am in your debt.”

Memory Rick: “Come with us.”

Bird Person: “To somewhere…nearby?”

Memory Rick: “Anywhere. E-Everywhere.”

Bird Person: “Rick, Aurora, I don't expect you guys to keep fighting, but this war is…”

Aurora: “Far from over…we know.”

Memory Rick: “Dude, we share this with almost nobody, but we could take you right now to this same battlefield, in a universe where we lost, or another where we won, or another where the war never even happened. All equally real, all equally unreal. None of it matters.”

Bird Person: “Then why did you help?”

Memory Rick: “Because I respect you. And I wanted you to know you could respect me.”

Bird Person: “Even though nothing matters?”

Memory Rick: “Okay. You matter... to me.”

Bird Person: “Uh, the relationship that we have…”

Memory Rick: “I NEVER used that word!”

Bird Person: “... is not worth my integrity…”

Memory Rick: “Oh, my God. It's not a complicated transaction, my man. "Would you like to join me doing awesome shit that matters?" "No, I would not. I would rather be a judgmental dork." Case closed. Really no need to drag it out.”

Bird Person: “If you need me, use the beacon.”

Memory Rick: “Yeah, I'm gonna use that beacon a lot. I hope... hope I don't wear it out. Come on Aurora, lets get the fuck out of here.”

—- Playback Finalized —--

“Okay, so what exactly does my memory of Bird Person rejecting my Rick have anything to do with you?”

“Seems allegorical in relation to how Diane died don’t you think? His rejection of me, Bird Person’s rejection of him, you either die a hero or see yourself live long enough to become the villain.”

“Are you trying to suggest to me that my Rick has essentially turned into you? I hope you’re not because that would be absolutely nonsensical.”

“You see Aurora, your Rick isn’t all he’s cracked up to be either. He’s murdered hundreds if not thousands of innocent Ricks, he’s manipulated a version of our adult daughter to get a divorce, he sells weapons to hit men and other criminals, he Cronenberged my original dimension and left my daughter, my granddaughter and my Jerry behind to rot in a world that he ruined, he exploited and threatened to destroy a microverse that he created to control his fucking car, and the worst possible one he trapped all the people in his original reality into an endless mental time loop while their bodies still grew old. Your Rick isn’t and never was the saint you believe him to be - so why hate me for something so small in the grand scheme of things?”

“You’re literally the reason why he did most of that. I don’t think my Rick is a saint, I think he’s a sad, broken man who is trying his best to continue on in his life after losing the very thing he used to live for. What makes my Rick so different from you is his capability to feel and connect to human emotion - his wild callousness is just a front so he doesn’t have to feel the pain his life radiates. He has surpassed you in so many ways, but he will NEVER be the monster you are because he is capable of changing. You know nothing about him and even sitting here under the guise that you do is ridiculous. You will never be him and he will NEVER be you.”

“You’d defend him even if he was the one who killed your husband wouldn’t you?”

“My husband died because you killed Diane - because you accidentally created X-258 where my husband was killed in a freak fucking accident. To even insinuate such an asinine thought is in bad taste even for you. If anything, you’d be indirectly responsible for the death of my husband, big fucking shocker there.”

“How would your husband feel if he knew you gave up on him to be with Rick?”

“My husband has been gone for 25 years, Prime and I loved him dearly when he was alive, but Rick, my Rick, is the love of my life. I don’t have to explain ‘love’ to you especially because you are literally incapable of ever fucking getting it. Killing your wife across infinity because some alternate versions of yourself pissed you off? The mother of your daughter - you have some fucking nerve.”

I was angry now, my words slicing into Prime’s direction like a knife and he was clearly getting upset with my tone towards him. I don’t know exactly what his end goal with me was - he had my blood and tissue samples, he had my brain scans. Why not just let me go or kill me if he got what he had said he wanted? Then it hit me. Prime was in love with me. A man that I had labeled as so incapable of feeling had some sort of feelings for me - what a fucking mind fuck that was to take in. I had made myself speechless as I waited patiently for him to say something to either confirm or deny my theory, but he said nothing so I spoke once more.

“You love me, don’t you? You have feelings for me.”

His silence after I said that was deafening and he quickly stood up from his place in his chair to grab my face in his hands roughly and smash his lips to mine. I knew it. He kissed me so roughly that I barely even had time to react, but once I was finally able to comprehend what was happening, I deepened the kiss. I was actually enjoying this despite how fucking wrong my moral compass knew that it was. He pulled away from me gently, his blue eyes looking me dead in mine before he said in a very demanding, yet hot, tone;

“Strip for me.”

And I did exactly as I was told.

—----------

His hand bent around the curvature of my neck brushing it softly as he continued to walk around me٫ his other hand finding my breasts and taking a nipple into his free hand subtly. He rubbed the nub between his thumb and forefinger as he continued to eye me up and down with an obvious hunger in his eyes٫ his other hand snaking down my body slowly till it found rest on my hip gently pulling me to him as he did so.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered٫ his eyes glued to my chest as he spoke eloquently.

He was still fully clothed٫ but I was determined to change that - I reached forward and begun unzipping his jacket٫ him allowing it to fall to the floor as I pushed it off his shoulders. I found the hem of his long sleeve next٫ my hands creeping slowly underneath to touch his warm skin and my god his skin felt like I was touching pure electricity the more my fingers danced over his adorable blue happy trail to find a home on his belt buckle. I began undoing it roughly٫ pulling his belt through the loops in his jeans and throwing it elsewhere. I unbuttoned his jeans with my hands٫ quickly slipping my fingers under the waistband of his boxers where I longed to have his dick pressed up against any part of me.

I smirked up at him as I pulled him even closer to my naked body٫ his hands wrapping around me in all the right ways as I felt his extremely hard member pressing into one my thighs now. The length and the girth simply drove me insane as I continued to work diligently to undress him. He suddenly grabbed the back of my head with enough force to crash my lips to his٫ our lips melding together perfectly and I couldn’t help٫ but let out a small moan in favor of his wicked foreplay. The more he touched and teased me٫ the more I desperately wanted to beg him to just destroy me right there. I was so fucked. Fucking Prime. What was I doing? At this point I was too far gone to care - I wanted him and I wanted him BAD.

I pushed his black jeans down past his jutted hip-bones٫ them falling down his tall stature to pool at his feet before he stepped out of them and led me back up against the wall. His fingers left my breasts٫ trailing down until they reached the very top of my mound - him allowing a single digit to pass between my folds to feel the abundance of wetness that I had increasing with each moment between my legs.

“So wet for me already٫ such a horny girl for any Rick aren’t you?” He licked his lips as he pulled away from mine to speak٫ him looking me dead in the eyes as he said that - the lust obvious in his gorgeous icy blue eyes.

“You have no idea how much I long for you to absolutely destroy me.” I whispered back٫ my fingers grappling the side of his boxers before pushing them off of him in one swift motion that now left him vulnerable and naked in front of me like I had been this entire time and ugh was it so worth the wait.

Prime had so many scars littering his whole body٫ adding a sense of mystery and a hot toughness to his already sexy body. I felt guilty that I was about to do this٫ but he was still a Rick whether he was evil or not and holy fuck did his extreme callousness and his “I don’t give a single fuck” attitude turn me on even more. I was like putty in Prime’s hands right now and he was loving it.

“I think I have a pretty good concept٫ but you have no idea how fucking gorgeous you are. If I could٫ I would put you on display so that everyone could see me destroy a perfect little pussy like yours. Holy fuck.”

“You want to fuck me in front of spectators?”

“I want them to revel in jealousy over how I get to be buried in a perfect little thing like you.”

“They should be jealous of me too٫ getting to be a good little cock sleeve for your perfect and massive cock. I love the way you feel pressed against my thigh right now٫ I almost can’t fucking take it.” I whispered in his ear٫ rolling my hips so that I brushed myself up against his rock hard penis - it almost jumping after me over the sudden sensation.

“Mmm what a good girl٫ stroking daddy Prime’s ego. I think it's high time I reward you for such good and filthy behavior.”

He grabbed me harshly by the hips and lifted me till I was straddling his waist with my back up against the wall as he placed himself at my entrance. He parted me gently with the head of his dick before slamming into me so aggressively that I cried out as I felt him ram into my cervix hard as he stroked my g-spot on the way there.

“Oh my god.” I panted٫ holding on to him with a death grip around his neck and my fingers tangling in his powder blue hair as he continued to thrust up into me skillfully.

“That’s right darling٫ I am your god.” He said٫ his lips attacking my neck and jawline with an abundance of sloppy kisses - him using his teeth to mark me however he wanted. The sweet feeling of the slight pain driving me crazy as I held onto him tighter - slowly rocking my hips in tandem with his getting a small moan from him in return as I bounced on his cock dexterously.

“It’s like universe literally created you just for me٫ the way your pussy just grips the absolute fuck out of my dick. Fuuck Aurora٫ no fucking wonder why “wife guy” is so obsessed with you٫ you take dick like a fucking champ.”

“It's not hard when Rick’s have such dynamite dick game - I’ve never ever been disappointed by a Rick sexually.” I purred٫ gripping tufts of his hair and pulling hard enough to hear him moan against my skin.

“Is that so, mmm you were so worth the wait.”

“I want you to come in me so hard that you see fucking stars, baby.” I growled in his ear as he continued to fuck me hard up against the wall, one of arms on the side of me bracing himself and his other hand was wrapped around my neck holding me to the wall tightly. I hadn’t noticed before now, but his ‘6,5” frame had me up in the air so high, holy shit - I felt like I was practically floating off of the ground at this moment. Damn the sex was good.

He soon moved his arm against the wall in order to place his long, lanky fingers on my clit, abusing the nub gently as he continued to go in and out of me. He was watching his dick as he pumped his hips, a smirk plastered on his handsome face as he was enjoying watching his dick disappear inside of me with each thrust. I was moaning loudly now, thankful that we were basically in the middle of nowhere in space because I could have probably awoken a whole cemetery.

“That’s it baby, come for me.”

I could feel that he was close and my eyesight was starting to get blurry the faster his fingers worked to bring me closer to my own climax.

“Oh my god - Prime - I’m - ahhhhhh Rick.” I moaned out as he pushed me over the edge, my pussy pulsating around his dick as he also released into me, burying his face into my shoulder as we rode out the highs of our climaxes together. Both of us sweaty messes as we tried diligently to try and catch our breaths from that absolutely intense workout we had just finished.

Fuck. I seriously just fucked Rick Prime. Fuck.

What had I done?

If you enjoyed this please give the full fan fiction a read - UPDATES EVERY WEEK - 💚

#rick sanchez #rick prime #rick sanchez fanfiction #rick sanchez fuckers #rick sanchez smut #rick prime smut #rick and morty #rick prime fan fiction #rick and morty smut #rick smut #rick sanchez fanfic #rick sanchez x self insert #rick sanchez x oc #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez imagine #imagine

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vorfreudevortex · 3 months ago

Text

4. breathe

a street racer!ino takuma x f!reader fic

redline masterlist // previous: chapter 3 // next: chapter 5

warnings // 6.3k words - swearing, alcohol, smoking, reckless driving (duh), all characters in college or recently graduated, mount hakone's details are not accurate for the sake of the story so pls don't try to clown me for it, descriptions of blood (cut from glass) mdni - small smut scene in a car (towards the end), fingering, handjob, clit stimulation, nipple stimulation, praise, nipple play, dry humping, multiple orgasms, petnames, whiny ino who's kinda obsessed with you lmao

if you can spot the ford vs. ferrari reference, i'll marry you rn

the vibes for chapter four

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

the next morning you’re pouncing on suguru’s bed, anxious to get him awake and back to the mountain. “go back to sleep,” he groans, burying himself deeper beneath the blankets. his face is barely visible beneath his bedhead, and his morning voice is deep and hoarse.

“please, sugu?” you pull out his childhood nickname in your softest, sweetest voice. he just huffs.

“call toru or ken. i’ll meet you out there later.”

“how much later?”

“dunno…” he’s already drifting back to sleep.

fine, then. after breakfast with your papa, you group facetime the boys. ken answers right away and immediately asks if everything is alright, already awake and dressed. toru answers on the last ring from bed, obviously woken up by his blaring phone. his white hair lays flat against his forehead and eye boogers hang from his long lashes.

“what do you want…” he hisses with a pouty frown. unlike suguru, satoru’s morning voice is light and whiny.

“ew, toru! your eye boogies are huge!” you laugh. you see the corners of kento’s lips twitch up as well.

“i’ve got something even bigger,” satoru’s mind works in mysterious ways.

“oh my god, you pervert—”

“—truly disgusting behavior,” kento adds.

“i was calling to tell you to meet me at mount hakone right away, but i’m rethinking it since i don’t wanna catch chlamydia from potential contact with you.”

“wow— okay, first of all, i don’t have any diseases,” satoru rolls his eyes. “and it’s not like suguru would let me anywhere near you in the first place—”

“—as he should,” kento frowns.

“get out of bed or i’m telling him you said that!”

“tell him what? i didn’t say anything,” satoru scoffs.

“i’ll tell him what you insinuated—”

“—okay, relax,” he interrupts with a huff. “i’m getting dressed right now.”

✰✰✰✰✰

you end up spending the entire day tearing through the pass, anxious to keep shaving down your time and memorize each remaining detail of the roads. it’s completely empty when you first arrive, except for kento leaning against the back fender of his car waiting for you. he very thoroughly checks your motor and brakes for you before agreeing to ride along during your first turn.

“would you like me to keep an eye on the handbrake for you?”

“nah, i got it,” you respond, pulling the helmet over your head. you don’t want to wear it but you know that kento will say something if you don’t. “just time me, please.”

he gives you gentle advice and reminders during the 8.5 miles, you make sure to soak up every word. kento might not race anymore, but he can read a road and engine better than anyone else, aside from your brother. he can still keep up with suguru and satoru if he chooses to.

8:40:22 — just one second slower than inumaki.

satoru rolls in by the time you’re ready for your second turn. he lazily slouches in the passenger seat but reaches up to grip the door handle when you shoot off the starting line.

“where’d you learn to drive so aggressively?” he asks. “there’s no way you picked this up from me.”

“maybe i did,” your voice is slightly muffled beneath the roaring motor and the cushioned helmet. “i’m trying to concentrate, please stop talking.”

you tear your helmet off and kento pulls you out of the car — 8:40:52.

“how did i manage to go slower that time?!” you whine.

“don’t worry too much about it,” kento reassures. he notices your trembling frame, adrenaline pumping viciously through your veins from the drives. “take a break now.”

by the time suguru arrives with gas and lunch, you’re itching to go again. he makes satoru race beside you so you can get more comfortable with another car on the road. on your 5th time back, a few others including okkotsu, inumaki, takuma and his team are parked on the shoulder. he wears his rough demeanor now, shoulders hunched and missing a smile. it’s completely different from the giddy attitude he had with you at the skate park. but his back straightens when he spots you, unable to hide the lively look in his eyes.

“what’s all this?” takuma’s playful voice rings out as he approaches the phantoms with his friends in tow.

“clutch got a new ride,” satoru sings, placing a hand on each of your shoulders as you sheepishly smile. “and it’s twice as fast as yours.”

“i don’t doubt it,” he smiles, and lets his eyes fall on you. you can feel both kento and suguru’s sharp glares in the back of your head.

“damn, these are some nice wheels,” choso comments as he crouches down to get a better look at them.

“this wide body kit was installed well,” todo nods. megumi just stands silently with his hands in his pockets beside takuma, letting his eyes rake over your silvia. he doesn’t have to say anything for you to know he approves.

“what do you need, ino?” your brother asks.

“just came to talk with gojo and run a few before the race tonight,” takuma shrugs.

“then go somewhere else and do it,” suguru waves him off. “my sister runs first.”

“are you’re racing tonight?” takuma’s eyes widen as they land back on you. “who?”

“toge inumaki,” your brother answers you before you can. in suguru’s mind, takuma does not need to be talking to his sister directly. “the one who just pulled up in the s13.”

“ah, he’s not too bad. i’ve seen him around,” he glances across the way at him and okkotsu, who watch your conversation and wait for you from afar. takuma turns back to you with another sweet smile. “good luck tonight, clutch! i know you’ll do—”

“—get the fuck out of here, ino.”

your face is bright red when takuma walks away. suguru angrily mutters something about the the inappropriate use of your nickname before lighting a cigarette, and kento looks away when you meet his gaze. you don’t dare say a word. for an unknown reason, in the depths of your brain, you like when takuma's cheekiness riles up your brother.

“fucking prick,” suguru mumbles through puffs of smoke, before putting the helmet back in your hands. “put this on and go before he comes over here again.”

✰✰✰✰✰

takuma ino: i see why u been busy this past week

you: i’m so sorry, i’ve barely been on my phone

takuma ino: don’t even worry bout it :) it was worth the wait ur silvia looks sick af takuma ino: ur gonna kick ass tonight too i just know it!!

you: i’m sososososo nervous you: do you think you’ll beat toru tonight?

takuma ino: no doubt about it takuma ino: are u still down to go out tonight after? for ur bday?

you: yes!! i already have my outfit picked out!!

takuma ino: i can’t wait.. i know ur gonna look so pretty takuma ino: u better not bail if u don’t win ur race

you: i won’t!

takuma ino: good i’ve missed u :) good luck tonight pretty

you: good luck kuma!!

✰✰✰✰✰

you sit back on your hands with your knees bent up, letting the cool road attempt to ease the boiling blood in your veins. your toes wiggle in your white converse, and your nails pick at ashphalt. shoko sits beside you, puffing on a cigarette, letting you sneak a hit or two when suguru isn’t looking to help calm your nerves. the chattering crowd and booming subwoofers on the shoulders are nothing more than a murmur in your ears, you’re too anxious to focus on anything except your upcoming race.

“you’ll do great,” shoko smiles. “i heard that people are betting for you.”

“really? betting on me?”

“uh huh. the streets say that there’s no way you’re slower.” even if shoko’s just making it up to make you feel better, it’s working.

you’ve spotted takuma and the shadows a couple times. his face is stern, he doesn’t even look at anyone else. the phantoms are bent over your engine, feet on top of the starting line. kento checks, double checks, triple checks everything while suguru nosily watches over his shoulder, ensuring he doesn’t miss anything. he knows he won’t. satoru yaps about everything and nothing at all. he��s not nervous for his race with ino, he’s raced him a handful of times before. he’s both won and lost, and tonight there’s money on the line.

suguru helps you to your feet when inumaki’s headlights come over the hill, but you don’t hear any of the words coming out of his mouth. your mind is far away. inumaki parks beside you, the nose of the car placed just before the starting line. he’s right on time.

inumaki doesn’t wear his mask tonight. the floodlights reveal his flushed, tattooed cheeks as he steps out of his car. the boys start talking with okkotsu, and inumaki points to you before holding his palms face down in front of him with a gentle shake.

“am i… nervous?” you question, and he nods.

“uh, yeah… i’m pretty nervous,” your voice shakes. he points to himself, then holds up two fingers. me too. his slender fingers fly gracefully in the air through his dumbed-down version of sign language for you. you will do great!

“you, too!” you smile, and your stomach starts to flip in on itself as the boys finish helping okkotsu check over inumaki’s engine. you’ll be off any minute now. kento closes inumaki’s hood with a loud wham and the boys close in around you.

suguru looks nice tonight, with the top half his hair pulled up in a neat bun, black jeans, and a deep purple oversized hoodie over a plain white shirt. he comes over and picks a piece of lint from the fabric of your top before brushing his fingers through your hair, silently calming your tension with ease.

“ready?” suguru asks.

“ready,” you smile, holding your hand out for inumaki to shake. he graciously accepts it with a wide grin and a polite bow. you settle in the silvia, all four of the group hanging their heads in through the windows.

“we talked to okkotsu,” satoru chirps. “they won’t do anything stupid.”

“relax, girl. you’re gonna do great,” shoko says.

“remember to breathe,” kento reminds. “drive safely.”

“put this on and do not take it off,” suguru pushes the helmet into the car as the others leave. he pecks your cheek before you pull it over your hair. “as long as you do the same thing you’ve been doing, you’ll win.”

“i’m nervous, nii-chan.”

“you have nothing to be nervous about,” he fastens the chin strap, pulling twice to check. “listen to what your gut is telling you, don’t try to fight it.”

“which marker will you be at again?” your shaky fingers fumble with the seatbelt.

“mile 4,” suguru’s voice is smooth and light, the solidity you need right now. your mind whirs as he helps you with the harness, tugging another two times. “ken’s at 2 and toru’s at 3 so we can be here when you get back, don’t worry.”

“what if something goes wrong?” every possible concern you've had is now bubbling out, you can’t quiet it.

“sshhh,” suguru hushes. “that’s what your radio is for. keep it tuned to what ken set it on and use the walkie-talkie in your console if you need help. your phone won’t work well out there. you’re gonna be just fine.”

you nod under the helmet and turn the ignition. you shift uncomfortably in your seat as it comes to life, humming and purring under the hood.

“listen to me,” he turns your head to face him. “you’re gonna do great. you’re faster than inumaki. you’ll win, no doubt about it. drive just like i taught you, okay?”

“okay.”

“i’m proud of you, clutch. drive safe. i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

with a handsome grin, he taps the side of the door and leaves. you look to your left, inumaki smiles at you through his window and holds up a sign. good luck. you return the gesture with a trembling hand. the flag girl takes her place between the cars. your heart pounds relentlessly. you spot takuma and his team, they made sure to park close. takuma waves with a warm smile, and you return it since the boys have disappeared into the mountain, unable to see the forbidden interaction.

the flag girl raises her arms. your sweating hands grip and release around the wheel, over and over again. just feel it. your feet press into the pedals. your tires spin. she throws her arms down. without a hesitation, the brake is released. the silvia lurches forward, finally free to run. your cloudy mind completely clears as you tear through the straight. inumaki is right by your side as your approach the first turn.

downshift. brake. you slow down first. inumaki starts to lead. damn it. breathe. the rear tires lose traction, you feel it.

turn, turn, turn— feather, feather, feather— not too much, not too little.

you both shoot out of the corner, the nose of the car practically touching inumaki’s back fender. breathe. focus.

“mile 1, inumaki in the lead,” okkotsu’s voice barely registers in your ears. do it again, better this time. you veer beside him.

downshift. brake. inumaki slows first. do you take him over? do you wait? kento’s warning echoes through your hazy thoughts… you’ll wait this time, you’ll be safe.

you slow as well, he’s still ahead. downshift. brake. feel. breathe. both cars’ tires scream into the night, their sounds almost harmonizing.

turn. feather. the gauge violently redlines, trembling on the dash. it’s exactly where it should be. it’s better than last time. breathe.

your roaring silvia and inumaki’s s13 enter a small patch of straight highway. this is your chance. throwing it back into gear, you attempt to push your way ahead of inumaki. he tries to chase you. the third turn, the hairpin, flies towards you. it’s too fast, you feel it. slow it down. brake. breathe.

“mile 2, inumaki in the lead,” kento’s voice calls out through your radio, you barely notice his blurry silhouette as you fly by him.

icy air blasts from the vents. your hair is crammed and damp under the helmet, but your bare arms have a shield of goosebumps. your trembling hand grips the shifter, the leather wet from your sweaty palms. breathe.

hard brake. downshift. brake. it’s coming. it’s coming. not quite… it doesn’t feel right… almost—

now.

you clamp your fist around the handbrake, yanking it towards you in one swift, smooth motion. the familiar feeling of the rear tires locking up surges through the car and into your bones. rubber screeches and the motor sings as it redlines. the back end swings around, almost farther ahead than the nose, but not quite.

just like your contorting body on takuma’s skateboard, the car teeters on the edge of losing control. unlike that balmy evening with your hands clamped to his soft shirt, tonight your hands are clammy around the stiff steering wheel.

and unlike the skateboard, letting the car slip away from your control is simply not an option.

you’re practically weightless, floating through the air like a haunting ghost, and you’re once again addicted to the feeling. breathe, just one more split second of bliss to savor—

“clutch leads into mile 3!” satoru’s giddy voice fills your ears. focus— you didn’t even notice how you had squeezed between the guardrails and inumaki’s wide drift to slip in front.

turn, feather. handbrake down, upshift. breathe.

you glance down at the dashboard and gauges. everything kento and papa taught you about them looks exactly how they should. the silvia craves more, you feel it. you do, too. inumaki is only a few feet behind you, but you’re gradually gaining more and more on him. you're winning, it sends another rush of thrill through your bones.

with one hand, you flip open the center console and snatch the walkie-talkie. a finger fumbles around on the side of your helmet until it finds the button. the visor pops up, letting cool air hit your burning face. your palm is back on the gear shifter with your thumb and pointer holding the ‘talk’ button against it, a beep rings out— everyone will hear your next words.

“suguru!” you call.

“clutch?! what’s wrong?” his voice crackles back to you over the radio.

“nothing’s wrong,” you can’t help but belly laugh, your mind dizzy with adrenaline and happiness.

“what?!”

“watch me, sugu!” you smile. “watch this steeze!”

you know takuma heard you, copying his goofy slang from that blissful night at the skate park, and you can imagine his smooth laugh ringing out around the other listeners so clearly in your mind.

you throw the radio to the floor of the passenger seat and fly into the next hairpin, mimicking your previous actions exactly. you let each rumble and veer of the car lead your timing and intuition. inumaki is a whole car length behind you now, both cars smoking past your brother and out of the drift.

“mile 4, clutch in the lead,” suguru says. “you stress me out, little shithead.”

and for some reason unknown to you, the world suddenly grows quiet.

your muscles relax, your mind empties. inumaki’s threatening headlights in your rearview mirror no longer lingers in your thoughts. the uncomfortable touch of the sweaty hair stuck to your forehead disappears. the echo of your uneven breaths under the thick helmet turn steady.

you take a deep breath, tasting the burning rubber and wafts of exhaust as you inhale. the machine around you becomes weightless.

you feel it.

you are simply just driving now, a body moving through time and space—

it feels so good.

✰✰✰✰✰

you’re not really sure what happened after that. but at the same time, you somehow remember every detail so vividly. since the moment everything clicked after that last hairpin, you’ve been in a drugless, dreaming daze.

you know that you won— 8:29:41— an incredible 11 seconds faster than your most recent pass through hakone. you were 2 full car lengths ahead of inumaki as you passed over the finish line.

you know that suguru was at your door as soon as you yanked the silvia in park, pulling you out and ripping off the helmet, smiling and laughing with utter pride. inumaki’s hands had waved excitedly in front of him before he hugged you with a smile that made his tattoo tightly stretch over his red cheeks.

you know that kento had shown you another rare grin with teeth, and satoru had once again thrown you over his shoulder. you had seen takuma’s huge smile between the faces of the excited crowd around you.

you failed to notice the brooding onlookers that stayed on the shoulder.

you were still catching your breath when satoru and takuma took off into the mountains, and you remember that takuma had won by just a few feet. it left satoru pissed and pouting, and about ¥30,000 poorer than he came. there was no fight this time.

suguru didn’t seem to mind when you told him you were going out again this weekend, he was going to the bar with the boys anyways. so when you got home, you pulled a black, off-the-shoulder mini dress over your buzzing body before fixing your hair and makeup. you knew you’d regret wearing thigh-high stockings and uncomfortable, black platform heels when you took off in your mustang, deciding to leave the silvia to rest in the garage.

the underground felt like it was empty with every bit of your attention focused on takuma. he had literally melted when he saw you, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off you all night. megumi, yuji, choso, and aoi were nowhere to be seen as you danced with takuma, shot after shot and song after song, still reeling from both your victories.

there was never a moment takuma let your body sway against his without a searing touch on your skin— the glaring red eyes from across the room needed to know you were with him and him only.

you know at one point, you were back in the shadows’ booth, utterly drunk and sat between takuma’s thighs. you remember his hand around your waist and a finger just under the hem of your thin black stockings. you remember the way his intoxicated breathe felt in your ear and the way it sent chills down your spine when he had mumbled, “we should go, it’s too loud in here.”

“go where?” you had asked.

“anywhere but here.”

✰✰✰✰✰

the daze is suddenly over as you find yourself underneath takuma ino in the backseat of his car.

you can barely see a thing around you in the dark, empty corner of the parking garage, but you can feel everything as his calloused hands roam your body and thighs, which hook around his waist, as he grasps at the soft fabric of your dress.

you hold his face in your hands, teeth and noses clicking and bumping as you attack each other’s lips. your fingers travel to his soft, brown hair and lightly tug when he meets his tongue with yours. the taste of vodka, tobacco, and your own sweet lip gloss mix between your mouths.

takuma’s hips come down to meet yours, the cool metal of his belt and the rough, black material of his jeans grind against your core so deliciously that you can’t help but let out a small gasp. he grips your thigh as the other hand gently cradles your nape upwards, exposing your neck and jaw for him to plant hot, wet kisses on as your eyes close with a flutter. it’s really not fair how the hard length beneath his jeans continues to roll into you, the pressure of it shooting desperate need through your bones.

"you're so fucking beautiful," takuma pants against your skin. "you know that, right?"

the rising temperature of the car and your melding bodies leaves you both breathless as takuma sits up to tear off his shirt. every coherent thought he has left in his brain vanishes when he finally registers the scene below him— your messy hair and lidded eyes staring at his toned figure, your swollen lips and heaving chest.

"oh," takuma damn near chokes on his own spit when he sees that your dress has bunched up just above your hips from his groping, legs spread around him to reveal cherry red panties against the straining tent below his belt. he’s completely losing it—

“my shoes…” you finally manage to say.

“what?” he thickly swallows. “o-oh, yeah. your shoes.” he lifts your legs and does his best, tipsy job to fumble open the buckles of your heels. your dress lifts higher, and takuma prays you don’t notice the pink tinge on his cheeks as your shoes fall to the floor of the car.

“fuck, you’re so pretty,” he breathes, returning his lips to yours. he just can’t stop himself from grinding into you repeatedly as he grows more desperate to ease the ache in his jeans. “is this okay?” one hand finds your breast, the other slides beneath the hem of your dress to the bare skin of your waist.

as soon as you nod he’s back to your mouth while your fingertips roam his shoulders and back. a thumb rolls over your covered nipple right as he rolls into your core, the angle and pressure just right enough to make you gasp again.

“m-more, please?” you ask so sweetly, takuma knows he could never deny you.

“more?” he begins to pull the top of your dress down. “like this?”

“yeah… please?”

takuma squeezes your hardened nipple and the fat of your hip at the same time, earning another sharp gasp from you. he smiles at that, eager as hell to learn every sign and signal of your body. he plants another wet kiss on your collarbone before hovering his lips over your other breast, letting the heat of his breath tease it for just a moment.

“can i—”

“—yes.” you pant, and his tongue is wrapped around your bud immediately. the insistence of his hips against yours combined with pulling tugs and sucking lips on your tits has your fingers tightening in his hair and back arching up, and the first candied moan finally escapes from your throat.

god help him— takuma swears he could cum in his pants just from the sound of it alone. he can’t believe he’s managed to get you here, splayed out so erotically underneath him in the backseat of his car, lucky enough to be the one to make you produce such a beautiful noise. he doesn’t dare stop his movements, savoring the privilege of having his own tongue swirling over your nipples just to hear you sing again.

it only takes a few minutes until takuma is drunk off your gasps and moans, drunker than he was before, and you’re starting to writhe under him. he plays with the band of your panties as your thighs squeeze around his waist.

“kuma, if you keep going,” you pant. “i’ll… oh, i’m gonna…”

“you want me to stop?”

“no, more.”

“more where?” a hand comes to rest on top of your pelvis, a finger dangerously close to where you need it most as he asks for permission. you nod frantically. takuma rests a thumb over your panties at the peak of your aching clit, “here?”

“y-yes, please,” you moan. your back arches and all muscles tense as he presses gentle circles into your bud. he groans around the nipple under his tongue when he finally feels for himself just how wet he’s made your lingerie.

takuma still can’t control his desperate grinds as he’s hunched over you, the only thing separating his twitching length and your burning cunt being your clothing and his thumb. his teeth softly clamp around the peak of your breast and you call out his name, sending him spiraling.

“oh— kuma!”

“cum for me,” he pleads, dark and needy brown eyes boring straight into yours. “please, pretty? i want to see you cum for me.”

you clench around nothing at his words, making takuma groan as you pull harshly on his hair and clamp your eyes shut. "please please please, just for me," he prattles helplessly.

you suck in a sharp breathe and let your head fall back into the soft seat. it’s silent for a moment as your entire body tightens into the peak of your orgasm. it has to be the most beautiful thing takuma’s ever seen. you start to fall over the edge, crying out in pure pleasure as your legs shake at the lightning that courses through you.

“fuuuck, baby,” takuma moans at the sight of you, not daring to stop his ministrations for a single moment to extend your orgasm as long as he can. he’s utterly addicted, he wants to see it over and over and over again. you wish you could say something, anything, but the burning fire rooting from your clit takes over all your senses. “so pretty, so so so fucking pretty.”

your chest heaves beneath his as you choke and gasp. “breathe, baby,” takuma softly reminds you, moving his lips to your tingling neck. you whimper and pant as you come down, takuma’s slamming his mouth back onto yours. “so beautiful,” he mindlessly mumbles against your lips. “thank you, baby. so good, so pretty.”

a playful giggle is the first thing to leave your mouth when your body settles. “what are you laughing at?” takuma smiles, he can’t help but chuckle along with you. you both feel light and airy, bright red blushes smear across your cheeks.

“i just…” you blink repeatedly with a sheepish smile, clearing through the lustful haze in your eyes to try and look at the boy above you. “i’m not very experienced, and that was, um, kind of… my best?”

“your best?” takuma looks at you with wide eyes. “i can do better.”

“…show me?”

takuma’s face flickers with an unrecognizable look. you playfully shriek when he pulls you up by the waist to straddle over his lap. his muscular thighs are spread apart across the backseat and your sensitive core meets his jeans once again.

“much better,” he grins, kneading the fat of your thighs. he looks down at your stockings with parted lips and darting eyes— his touch feels heavenly. “these are… dangerous.”

“you can take them off, if you want,” you mumble shyly, hooking your arms around his neck and pulling yourself closer into his bare chest.

“no, no, no. they stay on.” he prefers to be buried with the image of you over him like this, cheeks flushed and enticing eyes.

“okay, kuma,” you laugh. “whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?” his middle finger finds the path back to your soaking clit, gently pressing for permission. “what about what you want?”

“i want…” your eyes dart down his sculpted chest and abs, and over the soft chestnut happy trail that disappears beneath his jeans. you thought you had reined your head back in place, but the thought of that path of hair leading straight to takuma’s throbbing length suddenly has you fumbling mindlessly with his belt buckle. “fingers,” you blurt, remembering he had asked you a question. “i want your fingers.”

takuma doesn’t waste any time attaching his lips to yours, circling your soaking heat once again. you tear open takuma’s button and zipper, revealing just a peek of the angry red tip that hides beneath the waistband of his boxers. he lets out a beautiful, deep groan that reverberates down your throat when you palm him over the fabric.

“i need to,” he tugs at the edge of your underwear, pleading for entrance. "i need it, please?" the second you nod he’s pulling them to the side, both of you whining at the touch of his long fingers spreading the slick up your drooling cunt. you shudder against his chest, the pleasure being tenfold what it was over your lingerie. the sensitivity of your clit leaving you clenching and tense.

“f-fuck,” takuma whines when you reach past his boxers and squeeze your soft fist around his raging cockhead. you’re grinding desperately against the palm of his hand, he pushes a finger past that first ring of resistance and into your gummy walls. you moan and pant as he pumps steadily, relishing how your pussy squeezes and clenches around him.

“kuma!” you squeal as he easily pushes a second finger in your squelching cunt, curling into a spot that has your vision blurring. his head drops to plant wet, open-mouth kisses to your throat. you cradle his head against your chest as you swipe over the slit of his head, making him jerk with a whimper as his gushing precum coats your digits.

you’d be embarrassed that your second peak was already approaching after just minutes of his obsessive attack on your pussy if it didn’t feel so fucking good. the inhibition of your brother finding out about your whereabouts has completely vanished. any hesitation you had of takuma’s rumored wrongdoings is completely forgotten as you fist his long, pretty cock…

“shit,” he pants, atrociously enamored by a thin streak of your slick that appears from under your dress and trickles down your thigh until it soaks into the material of your stockings. “you’re so so good to me, too good for me, baby.”

the grip around his dick has him going ballistic, he knows he could cum immediately as long as it’s your voice asking him to. if angels are real, he thinks they’d sound like your sloshing cunt around his fingers and your saccharine moans in his ear.

“i’m gonna—” you gasp, snapping takuma out of his trance. “k-kumaaa…”

“you gonna cum again for me, pretty?” his cock twitches in your palm at the thought of it, this time around his nimble fingers. you subconsciously start pumping him faster, your numbed body so desperate for more of him.

“yes, i’m sorry!” you whimper, almost ashamed. takuma clenches his jaw with a sharp groan when you swipe against a particularly sensitive area near his leaking head, his own peak rapidly nearing. the perfume on your bare chest makes him even dizzier, he’s nipping at your breasts without thought.

“you’re gonna make c-cum, too.” good god, he’s obsessed with you. takuma can’t be bothered to care about how his pathetic whining and stuttering sounds to you. “cum for me. p-please, pretty?”

you’re a fucking mess straddled over takuma, a fistful of his shaggy hair in one hand as you’re veins start to run hot. you tremble as you start to peak once more, messily rolling your hips harder into the palm that he’s been grinding so delectably into your clit. takuma isn’t any better, jutting and jerking his cock farther into your hand. words pour out of his throat, babbling and groaning your name.

“oh, fuck— fuck, you’re so good to me, baby. cum with me, please? please… sh-shit, i—” takuma throws his head back and digs his nails into the fat of your hip as his pretty length spews hot ribbons of white over his clenching stomach. the sounds of his hoarse moans repeating your name, thanking you, and his fingers curled tight against your squelching walls is enough to send you over the edge right after.

you cum with a sharp cry, eyes rolling back into your head as takuma’s whining, drunk voice praises you through your orgasm. “breathe, pretty girl,” he reminds as you’re once again gasping for air. “good girl, that’s it. god, you look so pretty cumming on my fingers like this…”

takuma gifts you with gentle, slow circles over your nub to come down with, holding you close against him as he presses loving kisses over your jaw and neck. completely pussydrunk, he can’t get himself to shut up as he continues to stream out a steady flow of compliments and praises for you.

it’s when the car is quiet, except for both your panting, when you realize your phone is vibrating incessantly. abandoned at some point on the floor of takuma’s car along with your shoes, suguru’s name lights up the screen.

“shit…” you breathe.

sugu: lmk when you’re otw home please sugu: everything ok? sugu: 1 missed call sugu: text me back soon ok? wanna make sure you’re safe

toru: text ur brother back dumbass. he’s tweaking out in the bar rn lmao

sugu: clutch sugu: 1 missed call

ken: your brother is worried about you, it’s very late. you should give him a call when you see this.

sugu: i’m getting worried, did something happen?? sugu: call me back asap please sugu: 1 missed call

your heart drops. suguru texting or calling you a few times to make sure you’re okay is nothing new, but satoru and kento reaching out worries you.

“kuma, i’m sorry. i need to get home,” you apologize.

“can you stay just a few more minutes, please?” those big brown eyes of his are so hard to say no to.

“i’m so sorry, suguru’s freaking out. i… don’t want him coming to find me,” takuma must see the stress in your expression, because his pleading eyes disappear as his thumbs rub comforting circles around your waist.

“don’t feel bad, i get it,” he smiles. “we’ll get you home safe and sound for him.”

✰✰✰✰✰

you keep the shop lights off as you park your mustang. you’ve already probably woken up the entire neighborhood with your car, you don’t need to blind them as well. the cold linoleum floor of the garage feels nice on your socked feet as you walk with your heels in your hand to the door that leads to the kitchen, barely visible.

suguru will be waiting for you in your room, but you know he’ll simply help you into bed and tell you to get some sleep instead of reprimanding you, despite his concerning texts. that’s what he always does.

your cheeks still feel hot and your knees weak from your time in takuma’s backseat, but your mind is disoriented and giddy. his handsome smile and sweet moans are still fresh in your mind, you can still feel his warm touch over the skin of your waist and hips. you know you’re a mess right now; eye bags, tousled hair, smeared makeup, and your socks falling halfway down your legs… but you can’t seem to care.

there’s a small crunch, and the sole of your foot screams out in pain. you stumble backwards in the dark as you bite your lip against the searing feeling until you can turn on the flashlight of your phone. the bottom of your foot drips bright red blood onto the clean, ashy grey tiles.

you’re nothing except confused at the smalls shards of glass lodged in your foot. the light of your phone pans to the floor before you, covered in more glittering glass, and up to the driver’s door of the car in front of you.

it’s your silvia. you stare in disbelief as you realize the driver’s side window is completely gone, blue and green shining fragments covering the seat you raced in just hours ago. the passenger window is shattered but intact, with a singular bullet hole through the center. you scramble to the kitchen door, heart beating out of your chest and blood smearing your path. as soon as you grab hold of the knob, it flies open on its own.

“where the hell have you been? it’s 4 in the fucking morning!”

it’s suguru, shirtless and barefoot from being in bed. he looks disheveled with fretful and bloodshot eyes, his ebony hair frizzy and flat. he had obviously just been woken up from the sound of the garage door creaking open through the house.

“what’s going on, clutch?” he demands, grabbing your arm to pull you inside. but you’re unable to form words, tears streaming down your cheeks as you resist him. you fumble desperately at the wall for the shop lights, the fluorescent blinding you both when they snap on. the horrifying sight of your car makes you gasp, clutching onto suguru as you take in the scene.

“oh my fucking god,” suguru has never woken up faster. “get in the house. now.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

redline masterlist // previous: chapter 3 // next: chapter 5

ongoing tag list // @stillnotherapy @rieamena @magiamad0ka @mawhoreagaa

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