𝐘/𝐍'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

The OBX green room wasn't anything glamorous. Just a quiet stretch of pale walls and velvet couches, dim lighting and racks of clothes along the back wall and separate rooms for each cast member.

But the second I walked in and saw Madelyn standing by the mirror, sliding her earring into place, I swear the entire space felt like it was glowing.

She was wearing this soft, silky black dress, hugging every curve in a way that made my throat dry. Her hair was softly curled — not overly done, just enough to fall around her face in loose waves that looked effortless. Natural. Real.

Mine.

She didn't notice me at first. She was focused on the mirror, adjusting the tiny clasp of her necklace, eyes narrowed slightly in concentration.

My chest tightened with this stupid swell of affection. Like how was it possible that this girl — this woman — was standing here, getting ready for an event with me?

I leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her in silence for a beat too long. She caught my reflection in the mirror and turned slightly, catching me staring.

"You're doing that thing again," she said, the faintest pink coloring her cheeks. "That 'I forgot how to breathe while looking at you' thing."

I didn't move, just smirked a little. "Can you blame me?"

She rolled her eyes, flustered but smiling as she turned back toward the mirror. She picked up her phone and snapped a quick photo of herself, then another. I could tell she was pretending to be casual about it, but she was checking the angles. Making sure the lighting hit right.

She always did that before public events, like she needed proof that she looked the way the world expected her to look.

"You want me to take one?" I asked.

Madelyn paused mid-scroll. "Of me?"

I pushed off the doorframe, closing the door behind me, and walked toward her slowly, hand out. "You look good. Let me take one."

She smiled, handing me the phone. I stepped behind her, positioning the camera just as she adjusted her posture. She tilted her head slightly and I let the moment linger before I snapped the photo.

Then I wrapped my arms around her from behind and pulled her into me gently. She laughed, but it came out quiet — breathy. Surprised. "Hey—"

I grinned into her shoulder. "Smile."

We took a few like that — me behind her, arms snug around her waist while she snapped selfies of the two of us in the mirror. She leaned into me instinctively, one of her hands curling around my wrist as her head tilted to rest against mine.

"You're gonna make me forget we have to leave this room in five minutes," she murmured.

I pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck, right below her jaw. She shivered.

"You keep looking like that," I said quietly, "and I'm gonna forget we have to leave at all."

She closed her eyes, lips parted just slightly. "Y/N..."

"I'm serious," I whispered. "You don't even know what you're doing to me right now."

Madelyn twisted in my arms to face me, her hands splaying across my chest. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes searching mine like she was trying to keep it together and very much failing.

"If you keep going," she said, low and warning, "we're gonna end up missing the entire damn event."

I leaned in, brushing my nose against hers. "So let's miss it." She let out a strangled laugh, but it was mostly a breath — like the heat between us was making it hard for her to think.

"I'm serious," I added, teasing now. "You want me to help you out of that dress?"

"Y/N," she said again, firmer this time, but her fingers were already curling into my blazer lapel like she needed something to hold on to.

I leaned in again, lips grazing her ear. "Or we can just be five minutes late."

She didn't answer right away — didn't even blink — just let her hands slide down my chest and over my stomach, her breath shaky.

I felt her body respond to the closeness, her hips swaying forward just slightly, the same way they always did when she was past the point of pretending she didn't want more.

"I hate you," she whispered.

I kissed the corner of her mouth. "You love me."

She kissed me back — slow, with meaning. Her hand slipped to the back of my neck, her body arching closer.

I matched her rhythm, deepening the kiss just enough to make her gasp against my lips. My hands slid down the curve of her back, fingers splaying at her waist, pulling her in like I could anchor her to me.

Her body molded into mine like it always did — like it was second nature. Familiar and new, all at once.

Madelyn's hands roamed too — slow at first, fingertips gliding up my chest, over the fabric of my blazer, slipping beneath the lapel as her lips moved with mine. Her touch was careful but charged, every stroke sparking something low in my stomach.

"You're gonna ruin my makeup," she mumbled against my mouth, breathless.

"Then we'll fix it." My voice was rougher than I meant for it to be, but she didn't seem to mind. Her fingers slid up and into my hair, tugging gently at the strands near the back of my neck, just the way she knew drove me insane.

I backed her up slowly until her thighs bumped into the edge of the couch in the corner of the room. She sank into it, pulling me with her until I was kneeling between her legs, both of us out of breath, bodies flush.

"You're ridiculous," she whispered, eyes half-lidded, completely undone.

"You're stunning," I shot back, dragging my hands up the outside of her thighs, just enough to feel the soft material of her dress bunch beneath my palms. She arched into my touch, one leg hooking loosely behind my waist as her head fell back for a second, exposing her throat.

I couldn't resist.

I leaned in, lips brushing her neck — first featherlight, then a little more daring. She let out a quiet moan that I felt in every inch of me.

My hand found the dip of her lower back, the other grazing her side as she shivered beneath me.

"Y/N..." she said, almost pleading, her voice thick and frayed.

"I know," I murmured. "Just a second. Just—"

A knock at the door barely registered. We both ignored it. The door opened and this time—

"Are you kidding me right now?" Carlacia's voice hit like cold water. I didn't move. Madelyn froze beneath me, eyes wide. JD groaned from behind Carlacia. "Swear to God, you two need a damn warning sign."

Madelyn covered her face with both hands, half laughing, half mortified. "This is so embarrassing."

I pressed my forehead to her shoulder, trying not to laugh. "You said five minutes."

Drew leaned in behind them. "It's been ten. Let's go, lovebirds."

Carlacia smirked. "Get your girl outta here before we see something we really can't unsee."

Madelyn shot me a look that was half "I'm going to kill you" and half "I really didn't want to stop."

Same, honestly. But I stood, offering her my hand like we hadn't just been tangled up in each other minutes ago. She took it, cheeks flushed, and slipped into me like we hadn't missed a beat.

Carlacia paused in front of us, reaching over to grab Madelyn's lipstick, reapplying it for her before giving her a thumbs up as we all filed out of the room.

And even though we were headed for flashing cameras and a sea of strangers, the only thing I could think about was how fast I could get her home tonight.

.  .  .

𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐧'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

It was warm under the stage lights, but I hardly noticed. The hum of music, laughter, the clink of glasses, and flashes from press cameras blended into one chaotic but familiar rhythm.

All around us, people from Netflix's latest and greatest were mingling—faces I knew, faces I didn't—but the one I kept searching for, always, was Y/n.

Carlacia was next to me, talking to Millie Bobby Brown and Lukas Gage about some horror movie night they were planning, but I couldn't stop glancing across the room.

My fingers wrapped loosely around my glass, condensation slowly slipping down my hand as I scanned the crowd.

Carlacia followed my gaze and snorted. "Oh boy."

My brows knit. "What?"

"Your girl's got Antonia twirling her hair," Carlacia sipped her drink, eyes narrowed with amusement. "Look at Antonia."

That's when I saw her.

Y/n was across the room, laughing. That kind of full-body, dimply laugh that made my heart catch every time. She stood near a group of actors—Jenna Ortega, Kit Connor, Noah Centineo, and Antonia Gentry.

"She's tilted halfway into your girl's gravitational field, hand on her arm, totally not subtle."

I turned back toward them just in time to see it—Antonia, mid-laugh, her hand resting on Y/n's forearm as she said something that made Y/n shake her head and laugh harder.

Her smile was so easy, so open. She didn't even realize Antonia was clearly flirting with her.

My jaw clenched. I didn't blame Y/n. She was just being friendly. That was one of the first things I ever loved about her—how damn warm she was with people. But seeing someone else lean into that warmth like it was theirs to keep?

I hated it. "I'm going over there," I murmured. Carlacia shot her arm out, blocking me. "Nope."

"Carl—"

"Nope," she repeated, eyes twinkling with mischief. "You go over there now, it's gonna look like you're threatened. You want her to know she's got your trust, right?"

I huffed, resisting the urge to glare at Antonia from across the room. "She's touching her arm."

"She touches everyone's arm. That girl flirted with Maddie's girl last time we were in Atlanta," Carlacia said with a roll of her eyes. "Mariah nearly cackled. Trust me, let Y/n handle it, she's a big girl."

I pursed my lips, arms folding across my chest. "I don't like her smile."

"Oh my god, Madelyn," Carlacia laughed, bumping my shoulder. "You're adorable. Relax."

I was chewing the inside of my cheek, nerves prickling under my skin when, as if summoned, Y/n glanced over. Our eyes locked instantly. Her smile widened.

Antonia said something else to her, but Y/n didn't even respond—she just gave her a polite nod and started walking across the room. Straight toward me.

My heart stuttered, everything inside of me melting like warm sugar as she reached us, confidence radiating off her. She slid behind me like she belonged there—which she did—one arm wrapping around my waist as she leaned in, pressing a kiss to my temple.

"Hey," she murmured, lips brushing just below my ear. "Miss me?"

I leaned back into her instinctively, breathing her in. "You tell me."

Y/n smirked against my skin, whispering just loud enough for only me to hear. "I had to make my way back over to the hottest woman in the room,"

My skin flushed. Carlacia whistled low beside us, muttering, "Smooth."

Y/n chuckled, then shifted so she was pressed even closer behind me, her chin resting on my shoulder.

I could feel the slow thrum of my heartbeat where our bodies touched, and it calmed me instantly. Whatever jealousy I'd been holding onto started to dissolve.

The evening moved in a blur of laughter and soft lights as everyone gathered around the stage setup.

"You ready to sing your lungs out with me or what?" she grinned.

"I don't sing in public," I teased, letting her pull me closer into the crowd. "You sang to Storm last week at the grocery store."

"That was different. I was trying to keep her from having a breakdown in aisle nine."

Y/n chuckled, tucking a loose curl behind my ear. "Still counts."

The opening notes of an acoustic set started—some indie artist who sounded vaguely like Dermot Kennedy but more ethereal. I found myself in front of her now, both of us swaying gently to the rhythm, the rest of the world a dull hum around us.

She wrapped her arms around my waist from behind, chin settling on my shoulder.

"This is nice," I said quietly, turning just slightly so I could press my cheek to hers. "Like, weirdly peaceful."

"You know what's even nicer?"

"What?"

She didn't answer at first. Just pressed a kiss to the back of my neck, her voice thick with warmth.

"You."

I exhaled through a smile, leaning into her fully.

People were all around us—cameras here and there, a few phones out—but in that moment, none of it mattered. Not the press, not the earlier Antonia spiral, not the whispers we could hear but tried to ignore. Just the music and her and the way her fingertips slid slowly along my hips like we were dancing in our living room instead of a crowded venue.

I turned in her arms, facing her now. "I'm really glad you came."

Her brows knit for a second, like she was surprised I'd even question that. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

And then, just as the chorus kicked in, she dipped her head and kissed me. Soft and slow.

.  .  .

𝐘/𝐍'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

The night had gone way better than I expected.

Madelyn had this glow to her—like the event was her stage and she was owning it without even trying.

She held my hand half the time and let me trail behind her the other, talking to people I never thought I'd cross paths with. Everyone was warm. No judgment. Just chill conversation and easy laughs.

It was the kind of night that reminded me why I said yes to all of this. But that peace didn't last. The second we stepped outside the event hall, the air changed. Fast.

The sidewalk was packed—paparazzi lining the barricades like vultures, cameras already up, flashes slicing through the night like lightning. I felt Madelyn instinctively slow beside me, and I slipped my hand into hers, holding her tight.

Drew, Carlacia, JD, and the others formed a soft arc around us, naturally falling into step. Madison and Mariah trailed just behind us with Lukas and Austin, chatting casually—trying to stay light.

Then it began.

"Y/N! Madelyn! Can we get a shot together?"

"Drew, is that your girl? C'mon, Carlacia, gimme a smile!"

"Yo, Madelyn! How long's the firefighter been living in your bed?"

Flashes. Laughter. More flashes.

"Y'all, keep moving," JD said low, calm but sharp. I guided Madelyn closer to my side, using my body to block some of the blinding lights. Her hand was tight in mine now, nails slightly digging into my skin.

More paps spilled over the curb—one of them stepping directly in front of Drew and Carlacia.

"Back the hell up, bro," Drew said, arm going out across Carlacia's chest protectively. "You're not getting anything that close."

"Oh relax," the pap snorted. "You two together or what? That's the real story tonight."

"Move," Carlacia said flatly, voice tight. But the guy just grinned and lifted his camera again, snapping pictures inches from her face. We tried to weave through them, but another stepped into our path.

"Madelyn! Come on, one picture. Let the people see what a fine bitch looks like up close!"

That's when she stumbled. A pap had tried to get a shot of her and Carlacia together, like some twisted fantasy, and shoved too close, their shoulders colliding as he pushed between them.

Madelyn lost her balance and caught herself with a small gasp. My head snapped toward her instantly. "You okay?" I asked, my voice low, tight, every muscle in my body buzzing. She nodded faintly. "I just want to go home."

Something in me cracked wide open. That's when I let go of her hand and turned. The same pap was still smirking, checking his camera. I stepped into his space.

"Look dipshit," I said, steady and deadly calm. "I don't know why you think you're entitled to be all up in her face like that but you're not. I need you to back the fuck up. Now."

He tilted his head, amused. "Aw, what happened, hero? Can't take the heat? You think just 'cause you're dating a celebrity you can tell us what to do?"

JD and Drew were already closing in behind me, tension crackling through the air like a fuse.

"That's enough," JD said. "Move your ass."

Another pap tried to swing around us, camera aimed directly at Madelyn again. I saw her flinch as the flash exploded in her face.

I shoved the guy hard—his camera jostling sideways, hands flying up.

"Back the fuck up!"

"Hey! You just assaulted me!"

"Fucking sue me!" I snapped, chest heaving. "I already told you—back the fuck off!"

The sidewalk exploded.

JD stepped in, pushing a guy's shoulder. Drew grabbed my arm as another pap shouted something else—maybe a threat, maybe more slurs, I couldn't even hear them anymore. It was chaos—flashes, yelling, movement everywhere.

Mariah got in between another guy and Madison, her arm out like a shield.

Austin tried to help security push them back, yelling, "Enough! You got your shots!"

But it didn't stop. It didn't stop when Madelyn called my name softly from behind me. Didn't stop when Drew dragged one of them back by the shoulder and told him to get a life. And it definitely didn't stop when I saw the way they looked at her—like she was a product, not a person. Like she didn't matter.

So I shoved again as he tried to take another picture of her, snatching his camera out of his hand. That was enough to get his attention. It was enough for him to understand this was enough. Phones were already up. Cameras already filming.

"Take another picture and I'll break your fucking camera," Drew spoke to him.

All I saw was her—face pale, shoulders tight, eyes full of that soft panic I'd started recognizing over the past few weeks, her eyes tearing up.

I turned, fighting my breath back into my chest, and walked to her, curling my arm around her waist and shielding her again as we got closer to the car.

"I've got you," I whispered. She leaned into me. And I didn't look back.

A/N: I'm finally truly back into the swing of writing, it's been a rough few weeks or so!