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[ferrariswiftiespace]

sweet nothing

final chapter

tucker pillsbury x fem!reader

faceclaim olivia rodrigo

summary i won’t say anything read it 🫵🏻

warnings last episode :)

a/n you guys can make requests on my profile,,, i’ll probably add a section of sofia and tucker cause i think they’re the cutest (me and the voices)

back to chapter 2

the party had been perfect—chill, warm, easy. exactly the kind of night you loved. you’d had a few drinks, but not enough to be anything other than comfortably buzzed, and neither had tucker. he’d kept his arm around you for most of the night, his fingers lazily playing with your hair while he talked to his friends about songwriting. you’d chimed in when you could, but music wasn’t your world the way it was his. still, it didn’t matter—he kept you close, kept you involved, and you felt more at home here than you ever would’ve expected.

your phone buzzed in your hand.

wanna go to the roof? :)

you glanced up to find tucker already looking at you, his lip caught between his teeth like he was trying not to smile.

you smirked, typing back.

sure :)

as soon as the message sent, he moved his hand in front of you, palm up, waiting. you placed yours in his, and without another word, he led you out of the apartment.

you climbed the emergency stairs together, the music fading behind you as the air grew colder. the moment you pushed open the door to the roof, the chill hit you like a wave.

"shit," you muttered, pulling your jacket tighter around you.

“it’s so fucking cold,” tucker laughed, rubbing his hands together.

you both sat side by side on the concrete ledge, close enough that your knees touched. he reached for your hand again, fingers tracing absent circles over your rings.

“the strawberry vodka you made me was so good,” you said, breaking the quiet.

he glanced at you, grinning. “yeah? can i try it?”

you frowned playfully. “i left it downstairs.”

his smile turned mischievous. “i know a way you can still show me how it tastes.”

your stomach flipped. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

and then he was leaning in, kissing you softly.

it was deeper than the one outside your apartment, slower, more deliberate. your fingers found his jaw, his hand moved to your waist, and he pressed himself closer, tilting his head just enough to make you melt.

when you pulled away, both of you were smiling.

“i don’t think i got the taste right,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips. “can i try again?”

you laughed, kissing him again, this time even softer.

when he pulled back, he didn’t move far—his forehead rested against yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“i really like you, sofia,” he said, voice quieter now. “like, really fucking like you. and i don’t just mean the way you look, or the way you kiss me, or the fact that you bake ridiculously good food.” he smiled, but his eyes were serious. “i like the way you talk about your job, even when you pretend you don’t love it as much as you do. i like the way you make me laugh when you’re not even trying, or how you always check on me, even over dumb things. i like that you don’t care that i’m just some guy who sings about heartbreak, and that you fit so fucking well into my life like you were supposed to be here the whole time. and i know we’ve only known each other for a few months, but i don’t really care, because i know what i want.”

he exhaled, eyes searching yours.

“i want you to let me be your boyfriend.”

you stared at him, heart pounding so fast it made you dizzy.

for a second, all you could do was take him in—his flushed cheeks from the cold, the way his hair curled slightly under his leather jacket, the way he was holding onto your hands like you might slip away if he didn’t.

you bit your lip, shaking your head in disbelief before laughing softly. “thank god that refrigerator was too heavy to lift.”

tucker laughed too, squeezing your hands. “is that a yes?”

you took a deep breath, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the rooftop chill.

“yes,” you said, voice a little shaky but certain. “yes, i want that. i really, really like you too, tucker.”

his whole face lit up, but before he could say anything, you kept going, because he deserved to know.

“i don’t think you understand how much i love being around you,” you admitted, your fingers tightening around his. “i could be having the worst day at work, but the second i see you waiting outside for me, it’s like everything just—disappears. you make everything feel lighter, easier, and you don’t even try. you just do. and it’s not just because i think you’re insanely attractive, or because you make me laugh more than anyone else—though those things definitely help.”

he grinned at that, but he was listening intently.

“but it’s more than that,” you continued. “you’re a really, really good person, tucker. you care so much about the people around you, even if you pretend you don’t sometimes. you make everyone feel welcome, seen, important. i admire you so much, for the way you chase after the things you love and never do anything halfway. i feel so lucky that i met you. and yeah, maybe it hasn’t been that long, but i don’t really care either.” you swallowed. “because i know what i want too.”

tucker didn’t wait another second.

he kissed you again, harder this time, like he’d been holding back and finally let himself go. his hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as he pulled you closer. you melted into him, smiling against his lips, because this—this felt right.

when he finally pulled away, he pressed one last lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth, then rested his forehead against yours again.

“you’re really stuck with me now,” he murmured.

you laughed, threading your fingers through his. “yeah, i think i can handle that.”

his fingers traced slow, lazy patterns over your hand like he was trying to memorize the feeling of your skin.

eventually, tucker exhaled, smiling. “we should probably go back before people start thinking we climbed up here to escape them.”

you laughed, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “or they’ll just assume we’re making out.”

“i mean, they wouldn’t be wrong.”

you rolled your eyes playfully, and he grinned, standing up before offering you his hand. you took it without hesitation, letting him help you up, and together, you made your way back down to the party.

inside, things were winding down. most of the guests had left, and the few who remained were sprawled out on the couch, engaged in half-asleep conversations. the music was lower now, more of a background hum, and the whole apartment had that post-party haze—empty cups on tables, jackets forgotten over chairs, the faint lingering scent of drinks and laughter.

tucker stayed close to you, his hand either on your lower back or holding yours, as you helped him clear a few things from the counter.

“so,” you said, nudging him playfully, “do i get girlfriend privileges now?”

he raised an eyebrow, smirking. “what exactly does that include?”

“hmm.” you pretended to think. “well, for starters, i get to steal your hoodies whenever i want.”

he let out a dramatic sigh. “dangerous territory, but you already do”

“oh, and i get to be your plus one at everything.”

“done.”

“and you have to let me do your skincare routine.”

he groaned, leaning his head back. “okay, now you’re pushing it.”

you giggled, tugging on his arm. “no, seriously, you always complain about your skin breaking out, and i can fix it. just trust me.”

“fine, fine,” he grumbled, though you could see the way he was fighting a smile.

when the last of the guests finally left, tucker ran a hand through his hair, looking around at his apartment.

“this place is a fucking mess,” he muttered.

you glanced around, nodding. “yep. which is why you should sleep at my place.”

he looked at you, surprised. “yeah?”

you shrugged, trying to act casual even though your heart was racing a little. “yeah. it’s clean, and i have extra blankets. plus, i kind of don’t want to say goodnight yet.”

a slow smile spread across his face. “yeah, okay. let me grab some stuff.”

he disappeared into his room, and a few minutes later, he reemerged with a small bag slung over his shoulder. together, you made your way upstairs to your apartment.

inside, everything felt calm, warm. the contrast between the chaos downstairs and the quiet of your space made you exhale in relief.

“make yourself at home,” you said, slipping off your shoes.

you both changed into pajamas—tucker borrowed a t-shirt and sweats from his bag, while you slipped into your favorite comfy set. when you came out of the bathroom, he was sitting on the edge of your bed, scrolling through his phone.

he looked up, grinning. “you look cute.”

you rolled your eyes. “flattery won’t save you from your skincare routine.”

“shit.”

he let you drag him into the bathroom, where you made him stand still as you tiptoed applying cleanser, moisturizer, and a serum, explaining each step while he grumbled half-heartedly.

“i feel like a glazed donut,” he muttered as you finished.

“good,” you said, tapping his nose. “that’s the goal.”

finally, you both crawled into bed, the room dimly lit by the streetlights outside. tucker pulled you into his arms without hesitation, one arm draped over your waist, his fingers resting on the small of your back.

“comfy?” he murmured.

you nodded, your head tucked against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. then, quietly, you said, “i really like this.”

he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “me too.”

you smiled against his shirt, feeling warm, safe, and happier than you had in a long time.

and just like that, you drifted off to sleep in his arms, knowing that this—whatever it was—was just the beginning.

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sweet nothing

tucker pillsbury x fem!reader

faceclaim olivia rodrigo

summary you moved to a different city for your job and you meet your pretty neighbor

a/n what do you mean theres zero fics on this man, this diva needs a fic!!! also i’ll probably make two more chapters

chapter 2

you had spent your whole life in new york, a city that ran on chaos and ambition, so when your company transferred you to portland for a year, you were caught completely off guard. your best friend almost threw herself off her couch when you told her, and the night before your flight, you both cried over takeout and a half-empty bottle of wine. the goodbye at the airport was even worse—dramatic, tearful, complete with her clinging to your arm like you were being shipped off to war.

but now, sitting on the plane, you realized maybe it wasn’t that serious. your job covered everything—rent, furniture, relocation expenses. you even got to pick out your apartment, a sleek space downtown that would probably be filled with unopened boxes when you arrived. and, of course, it was. for a week, you lived in organized chaos, setting up furniture between long workdays, learning to navigate a city that moved at half the speed of new york. but there was one thing left: your refrigerator.

it had been delivered, but instead of making it to your unit, it was left stranded in the lobby like a lost puppy. you stood in front of it, hands on your hips, scanning for the landlord who had been so helpful before. nowhere to be found. great.

after a few minutes of attempting to budge the massive appliance, you were sweating and annoyed, ready to admit defeat. that’s when the lobby doors swung open, and a group of guys walked in, loud and easygoing, their conversation filling the space.

“yo, you need help with that?”

you turned to see the one who spoke first—a guy with a ridiculously pretty face, all soft features and warm eyes, but his arms were covered in tattoos, the contrast making him look effortlessly cool.

“uh—yeah, actually,” you admitted, stepping back. “i don’t think i can carry this thing up alone.”

“no shit,” one of his friends laughed, already grabbing one end. the other followed, and the tattooed guy—clearly the leader of the group—took the other side. together, they made it look easy, lifting the refrigerator and maneuvering it toward the elevator.

on the way up, you learned a few things. the guy with the tattoos lived in the building. his name? still a mystery. but he was funny, effortlessly charming, and had the kind of confidence that made you think he was used to people paying attention to him.

when they finally got the fridge into your apartment, you tried to insist on paying them back somehow—pizza, beer, literally anything—but they waved it off.

“don’t worry about it,” tattoo guy said, stepping back toward the door. then, as if remembering something, he turned around. “by the way, i’m tucker. i live right below you, so if you need anything, knock.”

you smiled. “sofia. and thanks. i’ll keep that in mind.”

a few days passed, work kept you busy, and before you knew it, the holiday weekend rolled around, giving you some much-needed time off. that’s when you remembered—brownies. a thank-you gesture for tucker and his friends.

so, you spent the morning baking, your apartment filled with the smell of melted chocolate and sugar. once they had cooled, you packed them into a container, hesitated for a second—was this too much?—then shook the thought away. he had literally carried a fridge for you; brownies were the least you could do.

taking a breath, you made your way downstairs and knocked on his door.

the door swung open almost immediately, and there he was—tucker, standing barefoot in a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair a little messy like he had just woken up. he blinked at you, then smiled.

“hey,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.

you barely gave him time to react before blurting out, “i made brownies as a thank-you for the other day, but i’m burning my hands, so you have to take them, and don’t say no.”

his eyebrows shot up in amusement before he let out a laugh, quickly grabbing the warm pan from your hands. “jesus, okay, bossy,” he teased, stepping back into his apartment. then, without missing a beat, he called over his shoulder, “come over.”

you hesitated for a second—was this too forward?—but he had already disappeared inside, so you took a careful step in. his place was effortlessly cool, a little messy in a way that felt lived-in rather than chaotic. a few guitars leaned against the wall, a record player sat on a low table, and there were scattered polaroids taped around.

he placed the brownies on the kitchen counter, then turned to you with a grin. “so, my friends don’t know you made these, which means i’m gonna eat them alone. even though i probably shouldn’t.”

you giggled, leaning against the counter. “it’s not like you have diabetes.”

he gave you a look—one of those slow, amused stares, his lips twitching like he was holding back a laugh.

“i do, actually.”

your stomach dropped. “oh my god.” your hand flew to your mouth in horror. “i’m so sorry, i shouldn’t have said that. and now i gave you brownies—fuck, no.”

tucker, meanwhile, was fully laughing now, shaking his head as he leaned against the counter. “it’s okay, you didn’t know.” he softened, looking at you like you were the funniest thing he’d seen all day. “it’s really sweet of you, but i can eat them—i just have to be careful.”

your face felt hot, embarrassment washing over you. “i swear i’m really, really sorry.”

he smirked. “if you keep saying sorry, i’m gonna tell the administrator to kick you out of your apartment.”

your eyes widened. “okay, yes, sorry—i mean, sorry for saying sorry.”

“stop it.”

you clamped your mouth shut, pressing your lips together to keep from apologizing again. tucker watched you, clearly entertained, then pushed the pan toward you.

“you wanna test them with me? make sure you’re not secretly poisoning me after that little incident?”

you exhaled a laugh, finally relaxing. “yeah, okay.”

and just like that, you found yourself sitting in his kitchen, sharing brownies with your downstairs neighbor who, apparently, could make fun of you all day if you let him.

[ferrariswiftiespace]

tucker x sofia on tour PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE and maybe on sofias birthday she gets to be sally 😋😋

please this is so cute, i really hope you like it!! i went more for the birthday part hehe💋

sweet nothing

tucker pillsbury x fem!reader

faceclaim olivia rodrigo

summary it’s your birthday and tucker have a little surprise for you!!

a year had passed, and everything between you and tucker had gone from good to best. your relationship was low-profile, just the way you both liked it—you weren’t one for the spotlight, and tucker respected that. you still had your job in real estate, but after getting a promotion, you became the head of the portland division, which meant you could work remotely. and that also meant you could travel with tucker for most of his tour, hopping from city to city, watching him perform from backstage, falling asleep in hotels with him next to you, waking up in different time zones but always in his arms.

it had been a dream, really. tucker was the same guy you met a year ago—the one who helped you carry a refrigerator, the one who came for you everyday, the one who let you do his skincare. but now he was also the guy who left you sweet notes on the nightstand when he had early rehearsals, who pulled you on stage sometimes just to embarrass you, who called you "babe" in every interview when fans asked about his love life.

and today, he had gone above and beyond—because your birthday was happening in new york city, and he had a concert scheduled for that night.

you woke up in a hotel room with tucker’s arm draped over your waist. he had been dead asleep, exhausted from the tour, but the moment you shifted, his grip tightened.

"where do you think you're going, birthday girl?" he murmured, his voice raspy with sleep.

you smiled, turning to face him. "just stretching."

he pulled you closer, nuzzling into your neck. "stretch later. cuddle now."

"tucker, my family’s waiting for me in like—" you checked your phone. "two hours."

he groaned dramatically, finally letting you go. "fine, but i get first dibs on celebrating you tonight."

later that day, you met up with your family and chloe for a birthday lunch. your parents had flown in for it, and seeing them again felt like home.

"happy birthday, my love," your mom said, pulling you into a warm hug.

"our little boss lady," your dad teased. "we heard you're running all of portland now."

"she’s been running it since she got there," chloe added proudly.

you laughed, feeling grateful for them. as the lunch went on, you received sweet birthday wishes and gifts—your parents gave you a lululemon set, perfect for all the airport travel you’d been doing, chloe got you a set of ohuhu markers because she knew how much you loved doodling in your free time, and then there was tucker.

he slid a box in front of you, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin.

"open it."

you raised an eyebrow but did as he said. the moment you saw what was inside, you gasped.

"no. you didn’t."

"oh, i did."

inside was the dyson airwrap—the one you had been eyeing for months but refused to buy because, in your words, "i can’t justify spending that much on a hair tool."

you looked up at him, your eyes wide. "tucker, what the hell—"

"happy birthday, baby," he said simply.

you could’ve cried. instead, you tackled him with a hug, and he laughed, wrapping his arms around you.

you got ready in your hotel room, slipping on a red mini skirt, a baby tee that read "my boyfriend is on stage," and cowboy boots.

"okay, you look hot as hell," chloe said, hyping you up as she fixed your hair.

"do i look too much like a groupie?" you teased.

"you literally are a groupie. own it."

at the concert, your parents, chloe, and you were right between the pit and the stage, the perfect view. tucker had already sent you a wink from up there a few times, but when “sally, when the wine runs out” started playing, a security guard approached you.

"you’re the 'sally' of the night," he informed you.

you froze. "no."

"yes," chloe laughed, practically pushing you forward.

before you could protest, tucker’s voice rang through the mic.

"give it up for my sally, the birthday girl!"

the crowd went wild as tucker pulled a birthday girl crown out of nowhere and placed it on your head, grinning.

you were already blushing, but when he started singing —

aw shit here we go again, i’m falling headfirst

ankles hit the two-steps, sally make my head hurt

—you knew you had no choice but to go along with it.

heard through the grapevine she can be a diva

cold like minnesota hotter than a fever

so you danced with him, even did the tiktok dance he does, and the entire venue erupted. tucker was beaming, hyping you up, and by the time the song ended, he leaned in, pressing a small peck to your lips.

the crowd lost it.

as you walked off the stage, chloe was already screaming. "OH MY GOD, YOU’RE A CELEBRITY."

your parents were grinning, and you could tell your mom was trying not to cry.

the concert ended and as your family and chloe waited, you went to find tucker. everyone pointed you toward his dressing room, so you knocked.

"come in!"

you opened the door to find him shirtless, a towel draped around his neck, grinning like an idiot.

"my sally!" he yelled, pulling you into a hug.

you groaned. "bruh, you made the orange bitch from inside out take control of me."

he burst out laughing. "you were amazing, babe!" he pulled back just enough to look at you properly, then leaned down to kiss you softly. "happy birthday, my beautiful girl."

you melted right there, wrapping your arms around his neck. "thank you for today. for all of it. for—"

"for making you the main character?" he teased.

you rolled your eyes. "yes, exactly."

he grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "you deserved it."

you kissed him again, feeling the adrenaline, the love, the sheer insanity of the night still buzzing in your veins.

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sofiarockwell thanks for all the birthday wishes and for making my birthday so special ⭐️

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sweet nothing

chapter two

tucker pillsbury x fem!reader

faceclaim olivia rodrigo

summary you and tucker became best friends but you developed a crush on him

a/n the next is probably the last chapter but i’ll probably make random situations with them and post them

back to chapter 1

go to final chapter

weeks passed, and somewhere between shared dinners, late-night conversations, and the casual way he always waited for you after work, tucker pillsbury had become your closest friend in portland.

every evening, he was there—sometimes leaning against the studio building, scrolling on his phone, sometimes already with a coffee for you in hand. the walk home together had become routine, effortless, like it had always been this way. and then, dinner—either in your apartment or his, depending on who had groceries or who was too lazy to cook. you’d fall into his couch, legs stretched over his lap, laughing about your day or listening to him talk about whatever he was working on. it was easy. it was safe.

but if you were being honest, it had also become something else.

you had a little crush on him.

not that you’d ever admit it out loud, but chloe, your best friend from new york, had caught on fast. she was 100% convinced tucker liked you back, sending voice notes filled with dramatic gasps and unsolicited analysis. and, to be fair, she wasn’t exactly wrong—he did do things. little things. like holding your hand casually when you walked together, his fingers brushing against yours before he fully intertwined them. or saving you a seat next to him, no matter where you went. or the way he always had to be touching you—his hand on your knee, his fingers playing with your bracelet, pulling you into him when you stood too far.

and then there was the fact that he always, always asked where you were if you weren’t around.

but still, you convinced yourself it was just tucker being tucker.

so, when he decided to throw a small get-together at his apartment on friday night, it felt natural that he came to pick you up from work.

"at what time are you coming downstairs?" he asked as you walked up to your building together.

you glanced at him. "if it's at nine, i have to shower, do my hair, do my makeup, and get dressed... so i guess on time."

he smirked. "wanna match outfits? what are you wearing?"

"red top, leather jacket," you said without thinking, adjusting your bag on your shoulder.

he nodded instantly. "okay, i’ll make sure to fit you, babe."

babe.

your stomach flipped, and you felt heat creep up your cheeks, but you just smiled, shaking your head.

when you reached his floor, he didn't stop—just kept walking up with you like he always did, escorting you to your door like it was a habit. as you reached it, your neighbor, ms. rose, an older woman who had been sweet to you since day one, opened her door. beside her stood a pregnant woman you recognized vaguely—probably her daughter.

"hello, sweet darling," rose greeted warmly. "look, this is my daughter, nelly."

"good evening, ms. rose. nice to meet you, nelly," you said, smiling. "i'm sofia, the favorite neighbor of your mom."

nelly laughed, and rose turned her attention to tucker.

"and this is her boyfriend from downstairs, tucson."

your whole body tensed.

"he's not my boyfriend," you blurted at the same time tucker spoke.

"it's tucker, actually."

he corrected his name. not the boyfriend part.

rose’s laugh echoed in the hallway. “they’re meant to be,” she whispered—but not quietly enough.

nelly shot you an apologetic look before gently guiding her mom back inside. “have a nice night.”

you turned toward your door, refusing to meet tucker’s eyes, but he chuckled, completely unbothered. “i love rose.”

you unlocked your door, turning to say goodbye. “yeah, she’s funny.”

tucker leaned against the frame, watching you. “she thought we were a couple.”

you swallowed. “yeah, i don’t know why she thinks that. sorry.”

he tilted his head slightly. “and what if i want us to be that? a couple.”

your breath hitched. “what?”

before you could fully process it, he was closing the distance between you, fingers catching under your chin, tilting your face up. and then—soft, warm lips pressing against yours.

you froze for a second, heart slamming against your ribs, but then you kissed him back, slow and sweet, like this was inevitable.

a quiet giggle broke the moment.

"i told you," rose’s voice whispered from her slightly cracked door.

you and tucker jumped apart, turning in sync to catch rose and nelly peeking out—before the door shut quickly.

you stared at each other for a beat before bursting into laughter.

tucker shook his head, biting back a grin. “hurry up, i’ll wait for you downstairs.” then, without a second thought, he leaned in, pressed another quick peck to your lips, and ran off down the stairs before you could say anything.

you stood there, fingers brushing your lips, heartbeat still unsteady.

as soon as you shut the door behind you, your body finally caught up with what just happened.

tucker had kissed you.

and you had kissed him back.

“oh my god,” you whispered to yourself, pressing your palms to your burning face. you barely had time to breathe before your phone was in your hands, facetime ringing, and chloe’s name flashing on the screen.

“bitch.”

that was the first thing she said when she answered.

“bitch,” you repeated, voice an octave higher.

chloe squinted at the screen, sitting up in bed. “why do you look like you’re about to pass out? what happened?”

you sucked in a breath, words tumbling out in a rush. “tucker kissed me.”

her mouth dropped open. “excuse me?”

“like full-on, in front of my apartment, just kissed me.”

“SOFIA.” she screeched, shoving her blanket off. “what the fuck! and you just dropped that on me with no warning? start from the beginning.”

you paced the room, trying to gather yourself. “okay, so he walked me home, as usual, and ms. rose—you know, my sweet old neighbor—was outside with her daughter, and she just casually introduces tucker as my boyfriend.”

chloe gasped. “oh, she’s got taste. i love her already.”

“shut up,” you groaned. “i corrected her! but he—he only corrected his name, not the boyfriend part.”

she screamed into her pillow before resurfacing. “okay, and then?”

you took a deep breath. “then he said, ‘what if i want us to be that? a couple.’”

chloe’s jaw dropped. “he SAID THAT?”

“yes!”

“and THEN?”

“then he just—he just kissed me! like, held my chin, tilted my face up, full romantic movie shit. and i froze for a second but then i kissed him back—”

“as you should.”

“—and then ms. rose and her daughter were literally peeking from their door, and she goes ‘i told you’ like she’s some fucking oracle, and we turned to look at her and they slammed the door shut.”

chloe was howling with laughter. “this is the best story i’ve ever heard in my life. do you understand the way i would give up my lungs to have a nosy old neighbor playing matchmaker for me?”

you dropped onto your bed, groaning. “chloe, i don’t know what to do. i feel like a middle schooler panicking about my crush.”

“oh, you have a crush? i never would’ve guessed.”

“shut up,” you whined, covering your face with a pillow.

“okay, listen,” she said, voice softer now. “do you like him?”

you hesitated, then exhaled. “yeah. i do.”

“then go to the party, look hot as fuck, and just see where this goes. it’s tucker, sof, not some random guy off hinge. you like him. he clearly likes you. and honestly? you deserve something good.”

you smiled, warmth spreading through your chest. “you’re actually the best.”

“i know,” she said smugly. “now go get ready and text me everything that happens.”

“i will. love you.”

“love you more. now go seduce your man.”

you laughed, rolling your eyes as you hung up.

with a deep breath, you got up and got to work—showering, doing your hair, makeup, and slipping into your red top and leather jacket. you checked yourself in the mirror, smoothing your outfit down before grabbing your phone.

you walked upstairs, nerves buzzing under your skin, and raised your fist to knock.

the door swung open before you could, and there he was—tucker, in a red shirt and a leather jacket, matching you perfectly.

you both just… stood there for a second.

“hi,” you said, suddenly feeling stupidly shy.

he scratched the back of his neck. “hey.”

a small, nervous laugh left your lips. “you really committed to matching, huh?”

he smiled, glancing down at his outfit. “yeah, well. had to make sure i fit you, babe.”

your heart flipped.

he stepped aside. “come in.”

you walked inside, taking in the warm, lived-in space. there were a few people scattered around, music playing softly in the background, the kind of casual, intimate party that felt effortless.

“drink?” tucker asked, watching you carefully.

you turned to him, lips curling into a smile. “please”

he grinned, leading you toward the kitchen. “done.”