#why should I have to be the one who feels bad about it 😭 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skateordiebitch · 3 days ago

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HIT ME UP || D.F. x reader

‘and i'll waste my time if you pursue me, i'll let you know, if you ever hit me up'

summary: dominic fike, the one night stand who won't go away.

and i’ll eat up dominic being the biggest yearner everytime!!! i love writing him as someone who’s just head over heels😭 also can we talk abt how hot he looks in these photos? GOOD LORD. PLEASE JUST ONE NIGHT.

anyways enjoy! requests are open too <3

The bar was loud, packed with people, but somehow you managed to carve out a little oasis at the corner, clutching your drink and scrolling mindlessly through your phone.

It was one of those nights you weren’t even sure why you were out; you just knew you didn’t want to be home.

Your friend had bailed on you last minute, but the lure of a Friday night was still enough to get you out the door and into the smoky, neon-lit crowd.

That’s when he caught your eye.

Not intentionally—just a glint of movement in your peripheral, followed by a cocky grin aimed at anyone and everyone in his path.

This guy was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark eyes and that kind of look that screamed trouble.

His confidence was unmistakable, bordering on the absurd, as if he was used to people looking at him, fawning over him. You rolled your eyes at the mere sight.

It wasn’t long before he zeroed in on you, and despite the fact that you were clearly uninterested, he strutted over, a grin on his face like he’d already won you over.

“Hey,” he said, leaning against the bar beside you. His voice was low, smooth, a little too self-assured for your taste.

“Hi,” you replied, barely looking up, hoping your tone would convey your lack of interest.

He didn’t miss a beat. “Bad night or something?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

You raised an eyebrow, finally meeting his gaze. “And you’re assuming that, why?”

He laughed, a deep, easy sound. “Just a hunch. You don’t exactly look thrilled to be here. This a party, if you couldn’t tell. Where you’re supposed to be having fun.”

You shrugged, tilting your glass in his direction. “Maybe I’m just avoiding guys like you.”

He let out another chuckle, clearly enjoying the challenge. “Ouch. So, I’m already a ‘type,’ huh?”

You gave him a once-over, taking in his relaxed posture, the way his eyes sparkled with barely-hidden mischief.

“You look like you know your way around this place,” you quipped. “Or at least like you think everyone else here should.”

“Guilty,” he said, unfazed. “But I have to say, you seem different from everyone else here.”

“Oh really? And what makes you think that?”

“Well, for one, you’re talking to me, but you haven’t batted an eyelash since I walked up,” he said, flashing a grin. “Most people here usually fawn over me, at least a little bit.”

You smirked, unimpressed. “Maybe I just have high standards.”

His grin widened, intrigued. “Good. I like a challenge.”

You sipped your drink, meeting his gaze over the rim of your glass. “So, does the mysterious charmer have a name?”

“Dominic,” he replied smoothly, extending a hand. “And you?”

You paused, weighing whether to indulge him. Something about the sparkle in his eye, the cockiness tempered by an unexpected warmth, had you curious despite yourself.

“Nice to meet you, Dominic,” you said, finally shaking his hand, “I’m Y/N.”

“Beautiful,” he replied, holding onto your hand a beat longer than necessary. “So, tell me, Y/N. What brings you out tonight?”

You shrugged. “I guess I felt like a drink. Or an excuse not to be home.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly, interest glinting in his eyes. “Mysterious and straightforward. I like it.”

You rolled your eyes, amused despite yourself. “I get the feeling you say that to everyone, Dominic.”

“Maybe,” he conceded, leaning in with a sly smile, “but I mean it more this time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re a real piece of work, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he said, mimicking your shrug, a playful gleam in his eye. “But I’d argue I’m a good time… Care to find out?”

Against your better judgment—and perhaps the unexpected thrill of being genuinely intrigued—you left the bar with him, his arm around your shoulders as he steered you out into the cool night air.

You walked through the streets, your voices carrying in the quiet night, the conversation flowing easily. You found yourself laughing at his witty quips, surprised by how disarmingly charming he could be without even trying.

“Are you always this confident?” you asked as you strolled along, barely aware of where you were going.

Dominic chuckled, flashing you a sideways grin. “I don’t know. Are you always this skeptical?”

“Touché,” you replied, nudging him with your elbow. “But yeah. Actually, I am.”

“Fair enough. I like a girl who keeps me on my toes.” He paused, glancing over at you with a sly smile. “But don’t worry. I’m not one to back down from a challenge.”

Maybe it was the way he looked at you, as if he were genuinely intrigued by the fact that you hadn’t fallen at his feet like everyone else.

The night spiraled from there.

You didn’t know exactly what happened—there were blurry memories of shared laughs, whispered secrets, a lot of eye contact, and even more drinks.

The next thing you knew, you were back at your place, barely registering how late it was.

As you stepped into the elevator to head up to your place, a tension settled between you both, charged and unspoken. You could feel his eyes on you, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as if he was daring you to break the silence.

The moment the elevator doors opened on your floor, you felt his hand graze yours, sending a flicker of warmth up your arm. The two of you walked side by side down the dimly lit hallway, each step closer to what you couldn’t deny you both wanted.

When you finally reached your door, you fumbled with your keys, suddenly hyper-aware of every second that ticked by.

“Need some help there?” he asked, his voice a low murmur behind you.

You shot him a sideways glance. “Only if you’re as good with all these locks as you are with lines.”

He let out a soft chuckle, stepping close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, the intoxicating scent of his cologne filling the space around you.

With a deep breath, you finally managed to get the door open, stepping inside with Dominic following, his hand brushing yours as he closed the door behind him.

“Nice place,” he remarked, glancing around, but his eyes quickly settled back on you. “Though I have to say, I was mostly interested in the company.”

You rolled your eyes, though a grin betrayed you. “If I wanted flattery, I’d have stayed at the bar.”

“Good thing you didn’t,” he replied, stepping closer, his gaze now locked on yours.

There was a pause, the air between you thick with something you couldn’t ignore. And then, as if by some silent agreement, he reached out, his fingers brushing the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you held his gaze, refusing to let him see you flinch. He seemed to appreciate it, his smile turning softer, almost reverent. And then, slowly, he leaned in, his lips barely grazing yours, teasing, as if waiting for you to close the gap.

You did.

The kiss started soft, but quickly deepened, his hands finding your waist, pulling you against him. You could feel the strength in his arms, the urgency in the way his fingers pressed into your back, as if he couldn’t get close enough.

His mouth was warm and inviting, tasting faintly of whiskey and something inherently him.

Each touch, each kiss, felt like it was stripping away the layers you kept up, the armor you wore around people like him.

Without breaking the kiss, you backed toward the couch, your fingers tugging at his jacket, sliding it off his shoulders. He let it fall to the floor without a second thought, his focus completely on you as he guided you down onto the cushions, settling beside you with a grin that was half amusement, half something darker, more intense.

“Comfortable?” he murmured against your lips, his hands wandering over your sides, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt.

“Depends,” you shot back, your voice barely a whisper. “Are you going to keep talking?”

He let out a laugh, low and husky, his breath warm against your skin. “Fair enough. I’ll let my actions speak louder, then.”

With that, his hands moved with a practiced ease, gliding over your skin, finding ways to make you gasp and forget any lingering doubts you had. For once, it was easy to be completely in the moment, to let yourself get lost in the way he seemed to know exactly where to touch, where to kiss, it was like he knew your body before even seeing it.

You felt your heart pounding as his hands traced along your skin, each touch lighting a fire that was hard to ignore.

As you lay back, you felt the warmth of his body against yours, his weight grounding you in a way that felt unexpectedly intimate, like he was somehow peeling away your defenses, bit by bit, with each kiss, each brush of his fingertips.

His lips traveled from your mouth to your jaw, down to your collarbone, lingering in ways that left you breathless. There was something different about the way he moved, a gentleness mixed with unspoken intensity, like he was savoring every moment, every inch of skin he touched.

“You’re good at this,” you whispered, unable to stop yourself, though you half-expected him to respond with another cocky remark.

Instead, he looked up at you, eyes filled with a warmth you hadn’t expected.

He stayed silent. He only gave you a soft smile, his lips tracing your jaw as he spoke, his words melting into your skin.

The night unfolded in ways that left you surprised and, admittedly, a bit vulnerable.

His hands and mouth moved in sync, guiding you both through a rhythm that felt almost surreal. And, between the breaths and stolen glances, there was a tenderness—a softness—that you hadn’t anticipated. It felt more like slow unraveling than a quick spark; each moment, each touch, felt deliberate, as though he was trying to memorize you in some quiet way.

At some point, you’d shifted, trading the couch for your bed, the journey between blurring in a haze of laughter and kisses that grew more urgent, more intense, with each passing moment. His words were soft, with a hint of challenge, and in that moment.

Eventually, after what felt like both hours and seconds, you lay side by side, his arm draped around your shoulders, your head resting on his chest.

The two of you were quiet, your breathing still a little heavy, but your hearts were slowing to a steady rhythm. You found yourself tracing gentle lines along his arm, your mind still reeling from the night’s unexpected intimacy. You couldn’t quite remember the last time someone had left you feeling so alive, so out of control yet comfortable.

Finally, as you lay tangled together, the early morning light beginning to creep in through the window, you found yourself smiling despite yourself.

He was lying beside you, his arm draped over your waist, his eyes half-closed but alert, watching you with that same mischievous glint.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice still heavy with sleep, “I have to say, you were worth the chase.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you stretched out beside him. “You make it sound like I was a conquest.”

He shrugged, giving you a lazy grin. “Only because you put up a good fight.”

“Hmm,” you replied, stifling a smile. “Don’t get too comfortable. I’m not exactly looking for a repeat performance.”

He smirked, his fingers tracing idle circles on your shoulder. “Who said anything about repeats? Besides, I have a feeling you’ll change your mind.”

You let out a scoff, but his confidence—however misplaced—was weirdly endearing. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Guess we’ll see,” he said with a wink, leaning over to give you one last kiss before slipping out of bed.

And sure, it was good—he was cocky for a reason, apparently—but as soon as the sun started peeking through your blinds, you felt the sting of regret and a slight headache creeping in.

—

The next morning hit you like a freight train. You rolled over, remembering that he left before you even fell asleep. Perfect. You sat up, rubbing your eyes, thinking how that was probably the last you’d see of Dominic.

That is, until you looked over at your nightstand.

“Of fucking course,” you mumbled to yourself, staring at his wallet.

It was lying on your nightstand, his name in embossed letters on the black leather, practically taunting you. You sighed. Of course, he’d be the kind of guy to leave something behind.

He’d left a piece of himself behind, almost as if he’d known you’d want—or need—a reason to call him again.

Gritting your teeth, you picked up the wallet, rifling through the cards inside. There was an obnoxious number of credit cards, a couple of VIP passes to places you’d never heard of, and an California licenses with an all-too-familiar face staring back at you.

Dominic Fike.

You do a little more deep diving into the man who was in your bed all night— Seriously? you thought, staring at his face on the card. This guy is famous?

His face, his music, his relationships, personal drama—all of it filled pages and pages of search results. Tabs upon tabs of articles, concert photos, and screaming fans filled your screen, confirming what you’d already suspected.

You had a one night stand with a literal celebrity—and had no idea.

Annoyed and a little embarrassed, you tapped on the number he’d saved in your phone the night before, dialing him with a deep sigh.

He picked up on the second ring, his voice smooth and somehow infuriatingly amused. “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”

“Not exactly,” you said, already irritated. “You left your wallet.”

He chuckled. “Did I now? Look at that. What a coincidence!”

You narrowed your eyes, though he couldn’t see it. “Yes. Would you like it back, or should I just keep it as a very expensive souvenir? Something to remember you by?”

“Alright, alright,” he said, still laughing. “I’ll swing by in like, twenty. Wouldn’t want you holding it hostage or anything.”

You barely had time to regret your decision before he arrived, grinning like he’d won some kind of prize as you opened the door.

“Well, well,” he said, looking at you up and down, clearly amused by your less-than-enthused expression. “I knew you’d call.”

You held his wallet out at arm’s length, not letting him get too close. “Here.”

But Dominic, of course, was not the kind of guy to make anything easy.

He took the wallet, but instead of leaving, he walked right into your apartment, looking around like he was touring a museum.

“You have a cute place,” he remarked, sinking down onto your couch without waiting for an invitation.

“Thanks. Maybe, I’ll see you around,” you replied, crossing your arms, nodding towards the door.

“Oh, come on,” he said, flashing that aggravatingly charming smile. “Is that any way to treat a guest?”

“Guest? You’re barely an acquaintance,” you scoffed, leaning against the wall with a look of utter disbelief. “You could’ve told me you were like, famous, by the way,” you said, still crossing your arms.

He shrugged, leaning back as he flashed a smirk. “And miss out on the chance to see your genuine reaction? No way.”

You rolled your eyes. “Is everything a game to you?”

“Only the fun things,” he replied, watching you with a spark of amusement. “Come on, admit it. You’re glad you didn’t know.”

You exhaled, fighting a smile. “Maybe a little.”

“You definitely would’ve have invited me over if you knew. You definitely wouldn’t have been screaming my name—”

“Dominic!” You exclaim, not wanting to recall any of last night.

“Geez, Y/N! There you go again,” Dominic laughs, “Should we just hit the bed now or something?”

You groan loudly, not even connecting your response before speaking, “No… No!” You say, “That’s not what I meant. Be serious. Can you last longer than a minute? Or is that impossible?”

“Oh, you know I can last longer than a minute.”

You plop down on the couch, giving up when you realized that you were practically writing his remarks yourself.

But, Dominic’s gaze softened, as if he saw through the veneer of irritation you were putting up. “Well, in all seriousness, most people don’t look at me like you did last night.”

“Disappointed?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” he replied, a bit more serious this time. “Like I was just some guy at the bar.” He smiled, something genuine glinting through the playful mask. “It was nice.”

There was a beat of silence, an unspoken understanding that lingered in the air. But then, with a smirk, he broke the moment. “Besides, I wasn’t ready for our little game to end.”

“Oh, and what game is that?” you asked, fighting the slight flutter in your chest.

He grinned, standing up as he approached you. “You, trying to resist me. And me, making sure you fail.”

Something shifted in his expression—maybe it was the challenge, maybe it was just your indifference. But whatever it was, he clearly wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.

“I won’t fail,” You say, probably in the most confident tone he’s heard you, “I know how to protect my peace.”

The next hour passed in a bizarre back-and-forth as he casually overstayed his welcome, making himself at home while you threw every jab and sarcastic remark you could think of his way.

You half-expected him to get fed up and leave, but instead, he only seemed more amused.

Every time you shot him down, he came back with a quip, grinning as if he were winning some game only he understood.

It was infuriating. But it was also… a little fun.

Against all reason, you found yourself laughing at his jokes, even as you rolled your eyes at his bravado. There was something oddly compelling about his relentless charm, even though he was the exact type of person you couldn’t stand.

By the time he finally left, you were exhausted—annoyed, sure, but also strangely energized, like you’d just run a marathon you hadn’t expected to enjoy.

As you watched him go, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—you hadn’t seen the last of him. And part of you, despite everything, didn’t entirely mind that idea.

—

The day after Dominic’s unexpected reappearance, things settled back into their normal, peaceful state. You returned to your regular life, or at least tried to, even though your mind kept drifting back to the chaotic encounter that morning.

It was supposed to have ended after one night, but there he was, strolling back into your life as if he had never left.

A few days passed without incident, and you almost convinced yourself it was over—until you spotted him again, completely by chance.

You were waiting for a coffee at the counter of your favorite café, scrolling through your phone, when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Let me guess—no idea who I am?”

You turned, and there he was, looking as smug as ever, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. He looked both out of place and totally in his element among the crowd of early-morning patrons.

“Hey, stranger,” Dominic says with a cheeky smile.

You raised an eyebrow, half amused, half exasperated. “Are you stalking me, or do you actually have a purpose here?”

He grinned, shrugging. “Coincidence, I mean, you’re at a very popular spot, you know. Or fate, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“You wish,” you muttered under your breath, though you couldn’t keep the small smile off your face. You gestured at the counter. “Coffee first. Then you can do your charm routine.”

He chuckled, sliding in beside you as you placed your order.

There was a comfortable silence as you waited, but it was laced with an electric energy that made you all too aware of him standing there, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him.

As you turned to pay, you noticed him handing over a bill, waving you off. “My treat,” he said, his tone casual.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m capable of buying my own coffee.”

“Come on,” he said, leaning in with that infuriating grin. “Consider it my way of saying thanks for not selling my wallet on eBay.”

“Very funny,” you replied, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck as he continued to look at you with that playful spark in his eye.

You both took your coffees and walked toward a table in the corner, where he slid into a seat across from you, leaning back in a way that was far too comfortable.

You took a sip, studying him over the rim of your cup. “So, why are you here? Couldn’t resist a second dose of my sparkling personality?”

“Not exactly,” he replied smoothly, a little too quickly. He paused, his eyes catching yours with a hint of something serious beneath his usual carefree demeanor. “Actually... I was curious.”

“Curious about what?”

“About you,” he said, and for the first time, there was a flicker of sincerity in his gaze, as though he was trying to get past your defenses. “I meet a lot of people. But it’s refreshing to find someone who looks at me like... well, like I’m just some guy they met at a bar.”

You leaned back, raising an eyebrow. “Hate to break it to you, but you are just some guy I met at a bar.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You know, that’s what I’m talking about. Most people that see me in a bar, wouldn’t say that.”

You took another sip of coffee, letting the silence settle, wondering where this was going. Finally, you set your cup down, crossing your arms. “So, what exactly do you want from me, Dominic?”

He hesitated, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. “Honestly? I don’t know. Maybe... I just wanted to get to know you.”

You studied him, searching for any trace of a joke or a punchline, but his expression remained open, almost vulnerable.

Against your better judgment, you felt yourself softening, intrigued despite yourself. You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

He grinned, looking relieved and a bit triumphant. “Alright, let’s start simple. What do you do?”

You rolled your eyes, smirking. “Oh, I thought you were a fan of the ‘mysterious stranger’ vibe.”

“Consider it character development,” he said with a wink, but you could tell he was genuinely curious.

“I’m in marketing,” you said finally, “for a non-profit.”

His eyes lit up, and he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand in a playful imitation of your posture. “Wow. Look at you, making the world a better place. And here I thought you were just another mysterious stranger.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his playful tone. “Yeah, well, not everyone spends their days living like a rockstar.”

“Ah, so you do know who I am.” He pointed a finger at you in mock accusation, but his grin was warm.

“Barely,” you replied, holding his gaze. “Not a fan, if I’m honest. It’s just not my type of music.”

That seemed to amuse him even more, and he laughed, shaking his head. “Ouch. Wounded.”

“Hey, just keeping it real.” You took another sip of your coffee, realizing that, despite yourself, you were starting to enjoy this.

“So… what’s your favorite type of music?” Dominic asks, as you chuckle, “What, you wanna write a song about me or something?”

“Who says I haven’t already?”

You could feel the heat creep towards your cheeks, and you bet that he saw it, too, “My music taste is kind of all over the place. I’m really into rock music, like 90s rock. Blink-182. Red Hot Chili Peppers.”

You see Dominic’s face light up with a joy you haven’t quite seen from him before, “You do know like, all of my music is inspired by that, right? Those are some of my favorite bands.”

You shake your head, “You’re just saying that.”

He holds up his left hand, and you realize it’s John Frusciante; The guitarest of said band. Of course, is it.. “Am I, now?”

You stared at his hand, taking in the tattoo of Frusciante’s face, a bit faded from time, yet still unremarkably impressive. Your jaw dropped. “Okay, maybe… I believe you now.”

Dominic grinned, pleased with himself. “Told you.” He leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head.

You shook your head, amused and slightly exasperated. “So, you're telling me that your whole ‘cool guy who doesn’t care’ vibe is just you trying to live out your childhood rockstar fantasy?”

His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Maybe. What can I say? I like to lean into it.” He paused, watching you closely, his smile softening a little. “But you know, it’s not just for show. I’m not playing a part for anyone. It’s who I am.”

You narrowed your eyes, intrigued despite yourself. There was a moment of quiet between you two, but it wasn’t awkward.

It was the kind of silence that existed between two people who were really starting to connect.

"Okay, then," you said, leaning forward with a raised eyebrow. "If you’re so real, then how about you prove it?"

His eyes glinted. "Prove it how?"

You shrugged, sipping your coffee. "Let’s see if you can keep up with me outside the ‘rockstar’ image. Ditch the cocky lines for a minute. Show me the real you.”

Dominic didn’t hesitate. He leaned in closer, his voice low. “You wanna see the real me, huh? Alright. I’ll play along."

You had to fight to keep from grinning, but something in the air shifted.

The banter was still there, but it felt less like a game now and more like two people actually trying to understand each other.

“I’m not here for a show,” you said, your tone steady. “Just, you know… a genuine conversation. No flash, no pretense.”

Dominic watched you carefully, his gaze softer now, but there was still a glimmer of that cocky charm.

“I think I can do that. But fair warning,” he said with a grin, “I’m not sure how good I am at keeping the ‘real me’ in check for too long.”

You smirked, eyes narrowing slightly. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

The two of you continued to talk, the conversation slipping into more personal territory as you discovered more about each other.

Dominic opened up in ways you hadn’t expected, sharing bits and pieces about his life, his rise to fame, his time in jail, the constant pressure, and the sacrifices.

And as much as you were tempted to tease him, you found yourself listening—really listening.

He, on the other hand, seemed fascinated by you in a way that made you almost uncomfortable. The way he’d pause, studying your expressions, as though trying to figure you out, kept you on your toes.

“So you really don’t care about all the ‘fame’ stuff?” You asked after a long stretch of conversation.

“Not really,” He replied. “I think it’s just... a distraction. People focus so much on what you do, not who you are.” He shrugged. “It’s easy to get lost in that. I, obviously, get lost in it sometimes.”

“Yeah, trust me, I can tell… But, I also get that. I really couldn’t imagine having fans, or followers, or any of that bullshit,” You say, watching him run a hand through his hair, staring down into his coffee.

“It’s kind of like, I’m good at being who people expect me to be. But sometimes... I forget what it’s like to just be me, you know?”

You nodded, sensing the vulnerability in his words despite his usual bravado. “I get it,” you said softly, “You wanna be normal guy sometimes.”

Dominic looked up at you then, and for a moment, it wasn’t the cocky, charming rockstar sitting across from you.

It was just Dominic.

The man with flaws, with dreams, with struggles. The man who, despite everything, was still trying to figure it out.

“And what about you?” he asked, voice quieter now. “What’s your real ‘you’ like?”

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. You had a tendency to keep your guard up, to keep people at arm’s length. But for some reason, something about Dominic made you feel like it was okay to let that wall slip—just a little.

“Me?” You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I’m just trying to make a difference. To not get too lost in all the noise. I want to do something that actually matters.”

Dominic watched you with quiet intensity, as if he could see through the surface-level responses, reading between the lines. “And you think you can do that?” he asked, his voice serious now.

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure yourself. “I don’t know. But I have to at least try.”

He sat back, taking that in. His eyes softened again, and for a fleeting moment, he looked like a man who wasn’t concerned with the world’s expectations or how many fans were waiting for him outside.

It was just him and you.

And in that moment, you could tell he wasn’t in a hurry to leave.

The tension between you shifted, growing more comfortable, more familiar. There was still a playful spark in his eyes, but now, there was also a sincerity that wasn’t there before.

“I’ll be honest,” he said, leaning in just slightly. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s a line I’m sure you use on a lot of people.”

He shook his head, the smile never leaving his face. “No, really. You’re different. And I’m not talking about your, uh, lack of ‘fan-girling’ over me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Just a little,” he teased. “But it’s cool. It makes you way more interesting.”

“Glad to know I’m not just another fan to you.”

Dominic leaned back, his expression turning thoughtful. “Yeah. You’re not. You’re someone I’m actually starting to care about. And for the record...” he added with a grin, “I think I’m getting pretty good at this ‘real me’ thing.”

“Better keep it up,” you teased, trying to hide the soft flutter in your chest. “Because I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.”

He leaned in a little closer, voice barely above a whisper. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

And there it was again—the chemistry.

The spark that had been there from the start, now igniting with a slow burn. You didn’t know where it was going, but you knew this conversation, this connection—it wasn’t something you could ignore. Not anymore.

As you finished your coffee, you both lingered, the air thick with unspoken possibilities. Neither of you seemed in a rush to break the moment.

Maybe this was the start of something unexpected. Something that neither of you had planned—but both of you might just need.

You spent another hour talking, exchanging stories and teasing banter.

He was funny, charming, and surprisingly down-to-earth when he wanted to be.

For someone so confident, he had a certain openness that was hard to ignore, and despite your initial annoyance, you found yourself drawn to him.

By the time you left, you almost didn’t mind when he suggested meeting up again.

“Alright,” he said as he walked you to the door. “How about a deal? You let me take you out again, and I promise I’ll try my best to keep my rockstar tendencies in check.”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “Why do I feel like that’s a promise you can’t keep?”

He grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Guess you’ll just have to find out.”

And before you could think of a clever comeback, he leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek. The warmth of his lips made your heart skip a beat, and as he pulled away, he looked at you with a quiet intensity that made it hard to breathe.

“See you soon, then?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, unable to find the words, and as he walked away, you realized that, despite everything, a part of you was already looking forward to it.

—

The days that followed Dominic’s confession were full of anticipation, but also of hesitation. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were standing on the edge of something, something you couldn’t quite define.

Every time you saw him, every time he looked at you like he was seeing the real you, you felt your resolve weakening.

It was confusing—after all, you’d spent so long keeping people at a distance, convincing yourself that you didn’t need anyone, that you were fine on your own.

But Dominic… he had a way of breaking through that wall, bit by bit, in a way that scared you and exhilarated you at the same time.

You spent the next few days trying to focus on your routine, but it felt impossible. Every small thing, like the sound of your phone buzzing or catching a glimpse of a song you both liked, reminded you of him.

But you weren’t sure if you were ready to dive into whatever this was between you. It was so new, so unexpected, and you didn’t want to risk getting hurt.

But then, just as you were trying to push those thoughts away, the text came.

"Hey, what’s up? Want to grab some dinner tonight?"

It was casual, like everything between you had always been. But beneath the surface, you could feel the weight of what had been said the night before. You hesitated for only a second before responding.

"Sure. What did you have in mind?"

A few minutes later, he sent a suggestion, and you agreed.

There was something about the way he made everything feel easy—like there was no pressure, no expectations, just the two of you figuring it out together.

When you met him at the restaurant that evening, it was almost like nothing had changed.

You greeted each other with that familiar teasing banter, a lightheartedness that had become the foundation of your interactions. But this time, there was a quiet undertone to the conversation, something deeper.

It felt like you were both waiting for the right moment to say something more, something real.

As the meal wore on, you found yourself opening up to him in ways you hadn’t expected.

Talking about your dreams, your fears, your past—things you usually kept buried beneath the surface.

And Dominic, as always, listened.

But this time, he didn’t just nod along or offer some flippant remark. He responded with sincerity, sharing his own struggles and insecurities, the parts of himself that were rarely seen by the public.

For the first time, you began to understand the weight of his life—the constant scrutiny, the expectations, the pressure to always be someone he wasn’t. And you could see the toll it had taken on him, the way he tried to push it all away with jokes and arrogance, but there was a tenderness beneath the bravado.

A part of him that was tired of playing the part.

After dinner, as you walked out of the restaurant, Dominic turned to you, his expression thoughtful.

“Do you ever wonder if we’re just two people who are too afraid to let ourselves get close?” he asked, his voice quiet but serious.

You stopped walking, looking at him. His words hit you in a way you hadn’t expected. You knew you’d been keeping your distance, but you hadn’t realized how much he had been holding back too.

“I don’t know,” you said after a pause. “I think we’re both scared of what could happen if we let ourselves feel too much.”

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah. I get that. But maybe… maybe we’re both ready to stop pretending, even if we don’t have it all figured out yet.”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his words sink in. Could you really let yourself be vulnerable like this? Could you trust him enough to let your guard down?

Before you could respond, he took a step closer, his hand brushing against yours. It was a simple gesture, but it felt like a promise. Like he was saying, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.

For a moment, everything else faded away.

The noise of the world, the uncertainty, the fears you had about being hurt—it all melted into the background. You didn’t need to have all the answers. All you needed was to be in this moment with him.

You finally spoke, your voice soft but steady. “I think… I think I’m ready. But you have to promise me something.”

Dominic raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s that?”

“That you won’t disappear on me. That you won’t make this about your fame or your image. I need to know that the real you is what I’m getting.”

His expression softened, and for the first time, you saw the full depth of his sincerity. “I promise,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “The real me, that’s what I’m offering. No pretenses. No games.”

The promise hung in the air between you, and in that moment, you believed him. You didn’t know where this would lead, but you knew you couldn’t keep running from it. The connection you shared was too strong to ignore, too real to pretend it wasn’t happening.

The next few weeks passed in a blur of laughter, late-night conversations, and moments of intimacy that felt genuine and raw.

There were still moments of uncertainty, moments where you questioned whether you were making the right choice, but every time Dominic showed up, every time he made you feel seen and heard, you couldn’t help but believe in it a little more.

You still held onto your independence, still made sure to focus on your work and your own dreams, but something in you had shifted. You were allowing yourself to let him in, to trust him in a way you hadn’t thought possible.

One evening, as you were walking together through the city streets after another spontaneous dinner, Dominic stopped in front of you, his face serious. You turned to him, your heart racing.

“I know we’ve been taking this slow,” he began, his voice quiet, but full of conviction. “But I need you to know that I’m all in. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You had always feared that this would be a fleeting moment in time—something that would fizzle out as quickly as it had ignited.

But Dominic’s words, the sincerity in his eyes, made you believe that this was something worth holding onto.

“I’m in too,” you said, the words coming easier than you had expected. “I don’t know where this is going, but I want to see it through.”

Dominic smiled, and for the first time, there was no uncertainty in his expression. No bravado. Just a man, standing before you, with his heart on his sleeve.

“Then let’s see where this takes us,” he said, his voice low and full of promise.

And with that, the uncertainty between you began to fade. The connection you had was real, and though the road ahead might be unpredictable, you knew that, together, you could face whatever came next.

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