☆ !elle! ☆

Pairing: Tony Di Marco x fem!reader

Wordcount: 2,329

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, cussing, tied-up wrists (BDSM)

A/N: I got a lil crazy with this one, but not too crazy. Highly suggest watching the movie Thank God It's Friday before or after reading this. Enjoy :)

<><><>

Los Angeles, California circa 1978…

The sound of the city below my fourth floor window didn’t bother me. Not tonight, at least. My brain decided it was good white noise while I sat at my typewriter and let my creative juices flow. 

Work was not pleasant this week. At all. I don’t want to know the amount of milligrams of caffeine I consumed today alone just to bite the bullet. I have the weekend to do what I please and that’s all I can ask for. 

Thank God it’s Friday.

Pampered would be the perfect word to describe me at the moment. Showered, shaved, skin cared for, and sporting my new satin tank top and shorts pajama set. One must treat themselves if the budget allows it and my wallet was whispering for some new sleepwear. 

Unscented candles cascade my bedroom, my Marvin Gaye record on low, and some tea by my side. The life of a 20-something woman at 2 a.m. when sleepiness hasn’t arrived yet. My friends tried getting me to go to The Zoo tonight. I did have the perfect outfit, but I refused. 

I refused to see him. 

The 6’4 devil in his deep red suit and gelled back curls. Even his smile dripped with lecherous intentions when he found a lady to pursue for the night. 

I happened to be one of them. But boy, did I put up a cat and mouse game for months before letting him have it. 

Tony, the owner of The Zoo, was the type to be one and done with women, never returning to the same woman twice. He had quite the reputation for that and honestly, it disgusted me. Until I found out why the reputation was made. 

What Tony doesn’t want to admit or let be known: I cracked him. 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Speaking of the devil. 

“You really should start to get in the habit of calling before arriving at my door.”

“Hi, Y/N.”

I smirk and step aside to let him in. He keeps his face blank and sheds off his suit jacket, proceeding to roll up his sleeves. 

“Another successful night at the office?”

“In money and customers? Of course. In getting any? For once, no.”

“I’m going to take a wild guess and assume that’s why you’re here?” I say with faux innocence and a small smile. He glares at me while undoing his belt and whipping it out of the belt loops. He tosses it aside and then starts to take a good look at me. 

“Is that a new pajama set?”

“You didn’t answer my question, Di Marco.”

“You already know the answer,” he says in a low tone. The sense of defeat radiates off of him and my God, it’s doing wonders for me right now. 

“Yes, but face the facts: you would be here even if you did get what you wanted,” I walk over to him slowly, approaching the prey who thinks he's a high and mighty predator. “For a man who discards women for cheap thrills, you keep coming back.”

“And yet, you keep letting me in,” he bites back quickly. 

“Because it rubs my ego better than you rub my-” 

He cuts me off with a hard kiss, one that has my arms doing muscle memory of wrapping around his neck. Tony slips his tongue in and my fingers find their way to his hair. That gel doesn’t stand a chance against me and his sweat by the time we get done with our fun. 

He pushes me onto my bed and slides my shorts off of me with a fast swipe. I’m on full display for him and he’s looking at me with a mix of wrath and worship. 

I want to kick him out and give him the worst blue balls of his life, but after the week I had, I can make the exception. 

“You know, I should just walk out right now after the shit you just said,” he says while unbuttoning his trousers. I slide my hand to my clit, but he smacks it away. My face immediately scrunches. “But I have a better idea.” 

He retrieves his Halston leather belt off the floor. My eyes widen and I look back up at him. 

“And what do you think you’ll be doing with that?”

“Since I’m feeling generous tonight, I’ll let you pick your two options: A) get that ass up in the air for me or B) give me your wrists.”

Only he could give me the itch to slap him hard but also grab him by his shirt and kiss him so hard our teeth clash. 

I want nothing more than to do both right now. 

I sit up with narrowed eyes and hold out my wrists for him. 

“That’s what I thought,” he says above a whisper and gets to work fastening the belt around my wrists. While his eyes are on that, mine are set on his face. His curls slowly come loose, his lips already a bit puffy from mine, the clenched jaw. 

Only he could get me to agree to this. 

He yanks me to stand up in front of him from the bed. My brain is running over the million possibilities of which fantasy he wants to fulfill with my wrists bound together. Considering I’m the one he has a tough time controlling, I just know he’s going to get a high from this. 

Honestly, I’m about to as well. 

Tony realizes one little detail he missed: my top. 

“Seems like you didn’t plan this that well, huh?” 

His eyes bore into mine with a glint of annoyance. His smirks returns and grabs the scissors from my desk and quickly snips my straps. My top drops to the floor and I’m left standing there aghast and very much naked. 

“TONY! That was new!”

His hand grabs at my jaw, feeling his long fingers slightly dig into the side of my cheek. He kisses me with a sensuality that has never come from him before. My legs almost give out from the spell he puts over me with just his lips.

“I’ll buy you a new one. Any color. In silk,” he proclaims in between kisses that trail down my neck. 

“You couldn’t have just taken the belt off to take it off?”

“Now where’s the fun in that, sweetheart?” and his hand slips down to my core while his lips find their home on my neck. 

This man knows every button of mine to press. His favorite being the one that causes my head to fall back with my eyes closed. My hands want to snake up his arms, to touch him anywhere. I have no anchor to keep me grounded as I feel his middle finger slip into me. 

“Damn, all that because of me, gorgeous?” Tony’s cockiness seeps through his words as he whispers them in my ear. He slips his finger out, going back to his usual toying, spreading my wetness around a bit more. 

“Just shut the fuck up and get to work,” I whisper back in his ear flatly. His dry chuckle sends the goosebumps straight to my skin. 

“Now you’re just trying to rile a reaction out of me.”

“Is it working?” I ask as my hand finds his boner. By the feel of it, he might not last very long. 

I highly doubt that. 

I pushed the correct button of his when he spun me around and made me lay on the bed. My arms are lying in front of me with my cheek meeting the softness of my comforter. I feel Tony’s hands guide my hips up into the air, making my legs bend to have my knees prop me up. 

I hear him undoing his pants, the sound of his zipper making a chill of sinful anticipation fill me. His pants drop to the floor, but I’m still impatiently waiting to have his hands back on me. 

“Excuse me, what is taking you so long?” I ask with an absolutely humorous attitude. 

“You can’t be the only one naked here, baby.”

After the sound of his button down hitting the floor, his hands found their way on my ass. One of his hands leaves it, but not for very long after I feel him slowly push himself inside of me. 

“Fuck,” I moan out in a whisper while my eyes flutter close and my jaw slowly slacks open a bit. 

His infamous reputation, ladies and gentlemen. 

Tony knew what he carried and fuck, he knew how to use it. 

Once the firm grip on my hips from his oversized hands were set, I knew I was going to be done for. 

Tony started going at it, inching towards being merciless with each thrust. The sound of our skin slapping and his hand smacking my ass when he wants to was making me deliciously dizzy. 

I’m in heaven. 

My moans grew louder when I felt his fingers make their way back to my clit. Not having much use of my hands and him doing what he pleases with me, my climax was arriving at lightspeed at this point. 

This was the only time I would ever say Tony’s name over and over out of the sake of releasing my pleasure. This was the only time he would compliment me as if he kissed the ground I walked on while he was over six inches deep inside of me. 

Our sex life was the only time we would eat out of the palms of each other’s hands with no regret and shame. 

“I could stay inside you all day,” Tony growls, then smacks my ass hard. That one was surely going to leave a hand print. 

Being a man of many surprises, Tony grabs a fistful of my hair and proceeds to go harder than before. I was crying out in absolute ecstasy, my whole body on fire in my favorite way. 

“F-fuck!” I scream out. My upstairs neighbors could come banging on my door and I wouldn’t answer until we were completely finished. I never will waste a minute when I have this man in my possession, even when I want to tell him off. “Keep fucking me like it’s yours.” 

Tony slides out and before I could question why he flips me on my back. He hooks his arms around my lifted legs and yanks me to the edge of the bed. 

“I wanna see you lose it,” he says and slides back inside of me. His same tempo comes back, causing me to go back to my usual moaning. With my wrists bound in front of me, I have nothing to grab onto and, my God, it’s killing me. 

His hands fly to my tits, holding onto them while his stamina doesn’t falter. One hand leaves and slides down to my clit again. 

“Tony, I swear to g-“ but my words were cut short from screaming profanities while he was not holding back. He was rubbing it fast and hard, launching me into my squirming when I knew I was ready to combust. 

“Y/N, I will hold you the fuck down if you keep moving like this,” Tony says through gritted teeth. 

Before I could even mentally prepare myself, my orgasm shot right through me. My back arches relentlessly while I feel the sweet release. 

I’m a woman possessed, eyes rolling in the back of my head while my mouth slacks open once again. Tony doesn’t stop. He never knew how, especially when he got me like this. He adored seeing me in such a state, with the cause being his cock. 

His thrusts become inconsistent, a key note that he was ready to finish. 

“Come for me, baby,” I lazily moaned. That did it for him. Tony stops abruptly, his own loud, throaty moans spilling out while he processes his own release.

Before he could even slip out of me, Tony undoes the belt from my wrists. Once the brown leather belt made its way back on the floor, I felt Tony collapse on top of me. His face landed in the crook of my neck, his hot breath making my core to pulsate for more. 

My typewriter was abandoned and my record player was silent. I couldn’t give a flying fuck after the out-of-body experience I just went through. 

With my hands finally freed, I wrap my arms around him. I can’t stand the clamminess of skin after sex, but he was an exception right now. 

Hell, he was always the exception. 

“Same time tomorrow?” He mumbles. I whack him on his back slightly and he chuckles. 

“Are you working the club tomorrow?”

“Of course. It's a Saturday night.”

“Then you better make space on your office desk if I arrive,” I say and start stroking his hair. I can feel him peppering kisses where his lips could reach so he didn’t have to move too much. 

“I’ll make sure to request the music to be a bit louder then,” Tony claims and finally slides his cock out of me. I wince from the sudden feeling, but he’s quick to make up for it by giving me a longing kiss on the lips. 

This little kiss led us to get comfier on my bed, him still on top of me and just making out. It feels like the perfect sweet treat after demolishing the entrée. 

“I know I never do this nor do I allow it but…do you just want to stay the night?” I ask with a certain flatness to it so he won’t detect that I’m hoping he’ll say yes. 

“What happened to your rules?”

“Sometimes they can be broken,” I whisper and continue our kissing. 

Wordcount: 3,173

A/N: This is an absolute mix of fluff, yearning, and thick tension. Enjoy :)

<><><>

Downtown Manhattan, May of 1976…

“Jesus fucking Christ, I’m going to rip someone’s jugular out with my teeth.”

“Hello to you too, Y/N.”

You plop into the booth nearest to the stage. Your skin is greeted by the green velvet of the seating; a welcoming, familiar feeling. Both your roommates were already there, but their martinis are still full. The third martini is sitting pretty in the middle of the table, calling your name. 

“I could kiss you right now that you ordered one for me before I even arrived.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” Y/F/N said with a playful wink. The eyes go rolling in the back of your head and laugh escapes. 

Within two minutes, they managed to bring you back down to earth and plant a smile on your face. Money can’t buy what these two people give you unconditionally.

The band assembles on stage, getting in their respective positions. You knew this was going to cure whatever capitalistic corporate rage that was fuming through you. 

Then the pianist walked on and the sipping was stopped abruptly. 

You sure as hell knew he could cure a lot of things for you just by the look of him.

Over 6’2 at least, dark curls that hit the nape of his neck but fell gorgeously around his face, a crooked smile that made your eyes pop out of your head. 

“You look like you just saw God,” one of your roommates announced. 

Breaking your eye contact off of him felt like he would disappear. He was criminally gorgeous and goofy-looking cute at the same time. 

“Well, something close to that. Maybe a biblically accurate Jesus if he grew facial hair,” you joked and Y/F/N snorted. 

“Amen to that,” they said.

The jazz started playing and conversation about work and gossip started flowing. Y/F/N got promoted over a chauvinistic bastard that thought he sealed the deal with their boss and Y/F/N started working for Ed Koch’s mayoral campaign.

“He seriously contemplated running for mayor and the campaign building is starting. That’s where I come in”

“The city is fucking broke and we need someone with competense to somewhat revive it,” you said. 

The song ends and the club patrons applaud. When you looked back up towards the stage, he was staring right at you. Same smile, intense flirty eyes.  

You smiled right back at him with your eyes saying everything you felt at the sight of him. It was damn near telepathy. You didn’t even know his name yet, but you were sure by the end of the night you were going to learn his last name too.

“I’m going to step outside for a few minutes,” you said as you grabbed your purse. 

“Y/N, we’ve been over this before: you can smoke in here- hell, you can smoke in almost every building in this city!”

“Yeah, but it’s still discourteous to do so. Not everyone smokes and it can be gross to others,” and you make your way outside. 

May nights were the kind where you can feel the hint of summer arriving. It’s the cool temperature that makes one upset to even go back inside. It was your favorite time of the year for the weather and you were not going to waste this precious timing. 

The first exhale of the cigarette relaxes you. It was a habit you were not proud of even though it was the normal thing to do. You were just thankful it wasn’t a common occurrence for yourself like you’ve seen from your coworkers in the office.

A pack a day sounds like instant stomach churn for you. 

Footsteps make their way behind you and instinctively, you move out of the way without looking back so the person can have more room to exit. 

Those footsteps had the face of the man you’ve been wanting to talk to all night. 

“And to think, I thought you up and left for the night,” he says, now standing in front of you.

A billow of smoke is released from your pursed lips, your eyes strictly on his. You hold out your pack and he puts his hand up. 

“Don’t smoke?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Now I feel you’re silently judging me.”

He gestures “a little bit” with his hand and his face twisted, but softens into a smile. “I will say though, you’ve got quite the manners to offer me one before even asking for my name,” the beautiful stranger said. 

A huff of a laugh and a smirk graces themselves from you. He could feel the heart-eyes starting to erupt from his own eyes just looking at you. 

“Okay, fine. And your name is…?”

“Jeff. Jeffrey Goldblum, but Jeff is fine,” and he holds out his hand. 

“Y/N Y/L/N,” and you place your hand in his. 

God damn, his hands are huge, the thought crashes in your mind. Pretty quickly, that thought spirals into territories you should not be thinking over a total stranger. 

Your hands’ keep shaking and you giggle. You were ready to slap yourself over literally giggling in front of a man. Giggling was reserved for certain guys on certain nights out. I guess your brain decided he made the cut. 

“So are we just going to keep doing this until we go back inside?” Jeff laughs, pulls back his hand, and places it in his pants pocket. “Shame on me if this is too forward, but what are you doing after this?” 

“Typically, I just go home, eat some food, and knock out in my bed. But…exceptions could be made,” he says, arms folding with a sly smile. 

The cigarette lands on the ground and you stomp it out with your patent leather heel. Jeff notes how well you’re dressed and can already tell you were out of his league. The list of occupations starts scanning in his brain of what you could possibly do for a living. Definitely a 9-to-5 with benefits, a 401K, and delivers dread to her on a daily basis. He knew this much: it was better than his for you to have pristine manicured hands. 

“Luckily for you, I am very much free. I have off tomorrow and I am not going home without buying you a drink first.”

Jeff has come across all types of potential lovers, especially with living in New York now. The women here are made on a different planet compared to those back in Pittsburgh. But you, you shoot your shots with carelessness that somehow managed to have the precision of a sniper. 

He could sense you were the kind of woman who knew how to get shit done, put a man in their place when needed, and still had a gentle sense of self to the right people. 

Jeff just smiles and lets out a shy laugh. 

“Oh God, don’t tell you don’t drink as well,” 

“Oh, I do. Not much, but I do.” 

“So what’s the verdict?” you ask softly, the wind having perfect timing for your hair. Jeff was staring as if you were some ethereal being. 

“Red wine or tequila?” he asks.

“Both are very suggestive of a very long night, sir.”

It was Jeff’s turn to let out what could be counted as a giggle. 

Right as Jeff was about to answer, the bassist steps out of the doorway.

“Hey man, we’re about to start again in three minutes."

Jeff nods and looks back down at you. You were the prettiest person he’s seen in a long time and the man has lived in New York City since he became a legal adult. Even the actresses he’s gotten to work alongside had nothing on you. 

“I guess that’s your cue to head back in,” Jeff was unable to read your tone. You looked about ready to head back inside yourself, but you were still anticipating his answer. 

He makes his way past you towards the door and a sigh is released from your lips. 

“Oh and by the way,” your head whips around to him. He stands there with the door open, the other hand on the doorframe. “I’m a fan of a good Ranch Water,” and he disappears inside. 

Tequila it is.

<><><>

Cantaloupe Island by Herbie Hancock is being masterfully played by the jazz band. A song very suitable for the name of the place they’re employed for.

You slide back in the booth, your martini replaced by a drink in a shorter, wider glass, graced with a lime wedge. 

“So…we saw Romeo make his way outside after you,” Y/F/N said. You knew damn well this talk was to arise and mentally braced for it. 

“Yeah, so?”

“So?! Did you guys chat or what? Find out his name?”

“His name is Jeff Goldblum. That’s all I know from this man,” you take a sip and look over at your two roommates. Curious eyes stare back at you and you could tell they were mentally foaming at the mouth to know more. “I may or may not have asked if he was free after this and I don’t think he entirely turned me down.”

Before they could get a word out, you spotted one of the waiters bring the desired cocktail to the stage at the end of the song. The ranch water was placed on the sleek black piano, napkin under it. Whispers were exchanged and Jeff found his eyes on you. 

Once the waiter made his way back to the bar, Jeff winked at you. You did it right back. 

“Oh…oh, you two are going to have a long night,” Y/F/N said. 

“You have no idea.”

<><><>

9 p.m. struck the clock. Your roommates made their way home. The band was dispersing off the stage. You sat in your same spot, patient as ever for the pianist to make his way over to you. 

“That drink was much appreciated.”

Your eyes found him yet again when you looked up. Your exhaustion was replaced by a schoolgirl giddiness you thought was once dead. Jeff watched the light in your eyes brighten to a sparkle he knew was credited to him. 

“I’m glad. Just enough to loosen you up.”

“For the set or for you?” 

You really did try to hide your smirk, but just shook your head to avoid letting him see. Jeff made his way in the booth across from you, the green complimenting his hazel eyes. 

This one, two step dance with a man were moves you’ve come to know. Sometimes the steps were out of rhythm with the music, but then, there were those who could keep up with you. 

Jeff clearly had the skill set, but still can trip over his own two feet when a gorgeous person knew exactly what they were doing. 

“You live far from here?” he asks.

“Sort of. I live in the Upper East Side, so I will indeed need to be taking the train home.”

“Well, isn’t that just perfect.”

You tilt your head and perch an eyebrow.

“And why is that, Jeffrey?”

“I happen to live in the Upper East Side too. Well, not in the nice part with all the rich people, but yeah, I live in that section too.”

Smiles were a form of communication between the two of you. Jeff blushes for the first time in what feels like since high school just at the look of your gentle but flirtatious presence. 

“How about one more drink and then we leave together?”

“Sure- but! This round is on me, gorgeous.”

You playfully scoff and take the last sip of your ranch water. “Bold,” and you two softly laugh. 

<><><>

Run for the hills, your roommates might say when you tell them what Jeff informed you. 

A 23-year-old actor who is trying to make it big while working odd jobs to make his rent and bills. The typical woman of 25 would politely go “oh, that’s nice!” and never bother with him again. 

You seemed typical. Those around you knew you were the farthest thing from being so. You just knew how to blend in to get the right job and get the work done to afford your own life decently. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what have you done recently? What do you have lined up? I apologize in advance for my nosiness. It comes with the nature of my job.”

“And what exactly would that be?”

“Don’t change the subject!” You swat at his arm playfully and Jeff lets out a subtle cackle. 

The train stops at the 42st stop and people shuffle in and out. There were some ways to go before getting off at 86th street, but not too long. You didn’t want to waste a minute while he was shoulder-to-shoulder with you. 

The occasional rocking back and forth of the train cart left you somewhat blushing. You blame the two ranch waters and martini that left you feeling cozy, but you were lying to yourself. 

“If you must know, I work in marketing. I got my degree in journalism, but some family nepotism got me this gig. They thought having someone with a journalism mind could be a good different perspective since I’m aware of the ins and outs of what works. So there you have it.”

“So all I’m hearing is that you’re a corporate 9-to-5’er who knows her real call in life is to be a writer.”

You shot him a look. Nothing malicious, more so one that reads “now that was unnecessary.” Jeff keeps his eyes locked on yours and he could care less what others on the train were thinking when seeing you two. After all, it’s New York and this is probably the most normal thing someone saw today. 

“Ding ding ding,” you say and break your eyes from him. “Okay, now answer.”

“If you must know, I got done filming for this movie called Between The Lines last month in Boston. This summer I have to make my way to San Francisco to be in the Invasions of the Body Snatchers remake.”

“Oh, he’s busy! Okay, okay, I’ll give you credit, Goldblum. You’re doing the work and getting somewhere with it.” You give him a joking golf clap. The blush that creeps up on his cheeks as he sheepishly chuckles catches your eye. Your stomach does the backflip that is rare at this point for you to feel and one you’re getting annoyed with. He didn’t have to flirt and your stomach did the thing.

Who am I? you scold yourself.

The train could’ve kept going all the way past 125th street Harlem and then back to downtown with Jeff next to you. Just talking. Just the flow of a conversation that you haven't had this easy in ages with someone you just met. 

Seeing the sign reading 86th Street on the wall through the window made your heart sink a little. You two get off and the cool May air hits your skin when you arrive at the top of the stairs. Though it was dark with street lights helping, Jeff looked like he belonged in a romcom. 

Staring is known to be an impolite habit, but you could give a damn about politeness with how some of the lights casted their glows on him from nearby shops and lamps. Even the restaurant lighting worked on him, for God’s sake. 

“I can feel your eyes on me.”

“You can tell me to stop anytime.”

“Don’t you dare,” he mutters under his breath. 

That alone could’ve launched you to push him against the nearest alley way and make-out with him ferociously. 

But you had self control. Or whatever was left after being around him tonight. 

Walking side by side, spatial awareness nonexistent with your arms being magnetic. The conversation was not ending until you arrived at your apartment building. Now, the topic of conversation went to the best places to eat around the city. Jeff knew he was going to lose that debate quickly with you being a native to the island of Manhattan. Hand brushes occur and the both of you are holding back from giving into the urges.

“Well, this is me,” you say, a sad smile appearing. You step up on the stairs leading to the door, making you close to being Jeff’s height. “Damn, you really are that tall, huh?” 

“And you really are that short,” you playfully hit his arm for the second time that night with your jaw dropped, but a smile never leaving. “Hey, you’re the one wearing heels and needing to be on a stoop just to get somewhat near my height.”

“Can’t lie though…I don’t mind being eye-to-eye with you.”

The snap was coming. You could feel it brewing, but you did not want to be the one to make the move. His entry ticket was just handed to him on a silver platter, polished. 

“I can make fun of your height, but I can not disrespect how absolutely gorgeous your eyes are,” he compliments just above a whisper. 

Oh fuck it.

Your hands fit his jaw like they were destined to be there one day. Your lips’, on the other hand?

That was fate. 

Instinctively, Jeff’s hands grabbed at your waist. Your hands slip off his jaw and onto his shoulders. A kiss like this could turn into something much longer in your bedroom upstairs. You wanted it- you needed it. Between the stress of your job and trying to have a social life, hopping into bed with someone wasn’t an easy conquest for you. 

Jeff was not the man to proceed such actions in an impulsive state. You would take continuing the train ride conversation over having him in bed that night in an instant. 

You finally pull away from what could be categorized as a grade-A make-out session. A kiss is a kiss, but there was no stopping you two from just receiving a singular one.

After a moment of shared silence, your brain got the best of you.

“Seriously? Tall and a good kisser? Dude, there’s got to be something wrong with you!”

“I mean, I’m broke, if that counts as a character flaw.”

“Jeff, this is New York. Almost everyone is broke.” 

The post kiss and jokes chuckles happen with your hands’ still on each other. His thumb rubs against your top mindlessly. Pupils have gone big in his eyes and his expression is a straight up puppy love stare. 

“I mean this in the most respectful way possible, but would you like to come up with me? I have no lustful intentions to bestow upon you, no worries.”

“I don’t either. I just want to hear that beautiful voice of yours talk about whatever it wants,” he grabs your chin and pulls you in for one more. “And surely some kisses from these lips,” and Jeff kisses you once again.

<><><>

Summary: Jeff finally decides to write an autobiography, which means it was time to bring out the old photos from his life. You pull out one in particular from 50 years ago that held the memory that changed your friendship forever.

NOTED: mentions of sex, friends to lover, angst

WORDCOUNT: 4,267

<><><>

Los Angeles, California, present day…

It was time to start looking through the old shoe boxes and photo albums. Jeff had finally decided on writing his autobiography for the world to know his life story. A man who’s been acting since he could get his hands on it at a young age. 

50 years in the business and still no Oscar, no Golden Globe, nothing of well known accolades. 

“You know I don’t care about any of that! Would it be lovely to receive one? Of course, but I get to wake up every day and be and do the thing I’ve always wanted to do. That’s enough for me,” he always said to me. 

As for me, his doting wife of 30 years (his longest marriage, may I add), I'm a costume designer for movies. Luckily for me, I met him long before he became Jeff Goldblum. When I met him, he was just Jeff, the overly tall, scrawny 22 year old with his long curly hair and goofy grin. 

Now both of us being 72 and embracing our gray hair, him more than me, life has slowed down a bit for us. Key word: a bit. He just got done doing one of the biggest press tours of his career with the Wicked cast and I got to be the one to help create the suit he wore as The Wizard in the film. 

With nothing on our radar for a while, besides our child pursuing their directing career, he felt it was his time to do the celebrity right-of-passage and write about his fruitful life. 

“Oh my God, look at this one! God, this was…”

“1980, my bachelor party the night before my wedding with Patricia. Of course you’re the only woman in attendance since I was insistent on having you with us.” 

“Forever one of the guys,” we laugh together and I lean into his shoulder. 

I looked over at the old red Adidas shoe box, knowing full well it was my shoes coming from that box. My eye caught one of our first photos ever taken. The quality of it was quite good for the time so I know it from my best friend who took it, a photographer who got her fame with Vogue in the 1980’s.  

While Jeff was going on about something, I reached for it. 

March of 1975 - Jeff just got a fresh haircut! 

My half print, half script handwriting. The photo was my favorite at the time and I bless her for printing this one out every time I see it. 

Jeff was standing behind me in it, arms wrapped around my shoulders. His height towering over me and his wing span engulfing me in the most beautiful way. The curls were on full display, which was my favorite way of how he kept his hair. He had to get the cut because he was soon about to shoot a movie and his long locks. We were both smiling with such genuineness, toothy smiles and our crows feet gracing our faces’. I could tell it was a sunny day, but we were under a tree, the shade helping with the lighting of the photo. 

Now the memory is striking me of what happened on this fateful day. 

“Sweetie, what’s that?”

“Um…it was the photo Y/B/F/N got of us 50 years ago,” I handed the photo over to him and watched his eyes scan it. Slowly, a smile appears on his face and he traces the piece of paper with his thumb, soaking in that a memory just got unlocked for him.

“Oh my goodness, yes! This was the day I came to visit you while you were dog sitting for that rich couple who had one of those gorgeous restored Victorian homes! I believe I even stayed the night.”

“Oh, yes, you did stay the night,” his eyes meet mine in confusion, but my eyes are saying “take a guess at what went down.”

“...Yup, that happened,” we both start giggling and he places a soft kiss on my cheek. “And I would do it all over again if I could.”

<><><>

Beacon, New York. March of 1975…

“Okay, stay right there!” 

I froze in my spot. I know how particular Y/B/F/N was about positioning, angles, and lighting. Her artistry was unmatched for a very valid reason. The only way I knew this was because she constantly used me as her model for fun photoshoots in her house. 

“You heard the girl: stay,” I crack a laugh with an eye roll as I hear Jeff’s melodious voice fill my ears. 

I can give him all the annoyed eye rolls in the world, but there was no denying in my heart that I adored him. On a level higher than friendship. I was always the one who was good at not falling for a guy friend, hence me becoming “one of the guys” with my male friends. Plus, they always found my other friends attractive. It was fun getting to play the wing-woman for both parties to make romance happen.

I was safe. I was good. Then this idiot waltzed into my life after meeting on a film set and I knew I was screwed since the first hand shake. 

We were two struggling artists trying to make it big as young as we could. He was getting small roles and I was shadowing costume designers, assisting them when needed. We had our sights on greatness that was beyond us, but truly enjoyed the crafts we indulged in for a living. With such a commonality - among other things - a friendship was in the cards for us, no matter how hard we could’ve fought it. 

I felt his arms wrap around my shoulders, his chin making its way to the top of my head. My heart rate was steadily rising and it always did when he touched me. His cologne entranced me and I couldn’t help but to lean back into him. His hold on me tightened and I could hear him sigh through his nostrils, his body relaxing against mine. 

“Perfect.” Y/B/F/N looked at us with a grin after she shot the photo, but Jeff wouldn’t let go of me just yet. 

“You better print that one out, I want it,” Jeff says and finally releases me. The March wind hits me and the warmth of his body is dearly missed instantly. 

We walk around town, avoiding Main Street as much as possible. It’s just busy and honestly, not the safest to be on. My family has been in this town for generations and unfortunately, we’ve had to watch the decline of our beloved small town. 

Jeff, a Pittsburgh man, has only ever seen New York City when he moved to this state after graduating high school to pursue acting. With having me by his side, he’s been able to explore the upstate area – my neck of the woods, so to say. A mountainous area with small towns alongside the Hudson River, Jeff has been loving the exploration of this foreign state. 

This is the first time I’ve been able to bring him to my hometown. A small weekend trip for him and it’s a miracle he was able to take off from work. With being a trained pianist, he’s taken upon himself to be a part-time jazz club pianist at a lounge in the Upper East Side of Manhattan to help pay his bills and rent. I’m the one usually having to go down to him to see each other on the weekends, but atlas, he made it here. 

“Okay, I’m starving and I want need a meal,” Y/B/F/N announces to us.

“Let me guess: you haven’t eaten anything at all today?” I ask with sarcasm dripping in my tone. She looks back at me with a glare, then cracks a laugh. 

“Yeah, you're right.”

“You two already know I can scarf down food.”

“And yet, you’re still skinny as hell. I would pay good money to have your metabolism, Goldblum,” I tell him. He hooks his arm around mine and lightly shoves me with his shoulder. 

“C’mon, you’re fit!”

“Having cellulite isn’t fit, according to everyone else,” I watch him roll his eyes at me and scoff. 

“Well, if it’s anything for you, I think you’re…well, I think you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

I already know Y/B/F/N  is going to call me later to discuss that.

“The diner, lady and gent?”

“Yes please!”

<><><>

Hours passed by and Y/B/F/N went back home to her place. And then there were two. 

“I still can’t get over that you have this whole place to yourself!” Jeff exclaimed while looking around the living room. “Just you, two dogs, and this house. I already know you’re loving your alone time.”

“Oh you have no idea,” but he doesn’t need to know what I meant by that. There’s just certain activities I can’t do back home, living with my parents. 

I stroll into the kitchen and prepare the chicken cutlets for dinner. Parmesan crusted chicken, salad, and some pasta on the menu tonight. I can hear my own stomach growl when I place the cutlet into the hot oil. Granted, we did plenty of walking today, so my lunch was burned off and the smell of the cooking is not helping. 

Jeff makes his way in and comes up near me. I put my hand on his chest, signaling to back up.

“What??”

“Jeffrey, I swear to God, if I find one of your hairs in this food, I will get your ass on that train and send you back to Grand Central,” and he instantly starts laughing. 

“What do I have to do? Wear a hair net?”

“Not the worst idea you’ve had,” and I throw the rotini in the boiling water. 

“Listen, it could be worse. It could be my pre-hair cut when it was down to my shoulders.”

“Yeah, not your wisest styling choice, but whatever you got going on now is a 10/10 look for you,” I reached up to touch his hair and it was his turn to reject my presence. He grabs my wrist right before my fingers could get a feel of his freshly cut curls. 

My mind goes to places they shouldn’t be at this very moment, but while he’s looking like that, this close to me, in a house alone together, I can’t help myself. 

“Nuh uh, no touching the hair after you’ve been handling raw meat.”

“Gosh, so particular, fine!” 

I finish up the cooking for us and he sets the table for just him and me. Part of me knew what I was doing when I invited him to stay the weekend with me. No parents around, quality alone time, and getting to play house a little bit. If this is the way I have to have him, then so be it. Better than not having him at all. 

“Alrighty, dinner is served,” I place down the platter of chicken, the bowl of salad, then the bowl of rotini pasta. Red sauce, butter, and dressing makes their way in the middle of the table thanks to Jeff being a helping hand for me. 

We sit across from each other and dive right in. Now that I’m not around family, I don’t have to be made to pray before indulging into my meal. My family being religious hasn’t imprinted on me the way they wanted it to, but I just don’t feel that connection. Jeff has been the only person in my life to feel the same, but we’re both made to still celebrate the holidays, him more than me considering he has many more to celebrate than I do. 

Let’s just say he is not a fan of Yom Kippur with not getting to eat or drink water for 24 hours. 

“Y/N, you’ve done it again. This came out so good.”

“Thank you. I try my best.”

“Well your best is fantastic,” Jeff says with a mouth full of salad. 

We continue enjoying our food, chatting in between bites we take. With all this in front of me, it gives me a sense of shallow hope for anything to come out between us. Him sitting across from me, dinner made and served in a home, two dogs sitting nearby, just the two of us. If this is a possible future for us, I would grab it in a heartbeat. 

“You seem to be somewhere else.”

“Huh?” I snap out of my thoughts. My embarrassment goes to my cheeks and I break whatever eye contact I had with him.

“You didn’t even comprehend what I just said,” he says with a laugh. “What part of your brain are you in now?” 

The one reserved for you, I thought to myself. 

“Oh haha, a bonafide comedian. Seriously though, it’s nothing.”

“Mhm. Let me play the guessing game on this one, even though you’re hard to crack on revealing what it actually is.”

“Jeff, no-”

“Are you pre planning out the bills you have to pay? What you want for dessert? Is it a guy?” I showed my hand and the poker face didn’t uphold with that last question asked. Thank goodness I was done with my food for I grabbed my plate and made a b-line to the kitchen.

“I’m not doing this with you-”

“Holy shit, it is about a guy!” Jeff cuts me off and I hear him follow me into the kitchen. 

My irritation can spike at any given moment with the right thing to piss me off. It’s one of the specialties of my personality that the people around me endure, but not that often. Never had I had Jeff be the one to make me feel that exact way until now. 

“No it’s not and for fucks sake, can you just drop it,” The plate clangs in the sink and the silence that fills the room sucks the air out of it for me. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to get like that at all.” I walk back to the dining room and continue cleaning off the table like that just didn’t happen. 

My head and heart are racing a million miles per hour while I focus on grabbing items from the table. It’s the embarrassment that has the tears swelling up in my eyes, but I keep my cool with everything I had in me. 

“Y/N?” my snaps towards the kitchen entrance, Jeff’s towering presence leaning up against it. His eyes are filled with regret and sorrow. I just want to drop everything to the floor and run into his arms. 

“Yes?” Jeff walks up to me and starts taking things from my arms to put them back on the table. “What are you-”

“All I want to say is that I’m sorry that I pushed the matter. I truly didn’t mean for you to feel that way.” My tears are making their comeback and it causes more annoyance than anything for me at this moment because I don’t want him seeing me like this. 

I look at him in his hazel eyes and nod without saying a word. He places his hands on each side of my face, his thumb stroking my cheek. I could melt in his hands right now while simultaneously crying in his chest since he’s such a comfort person to me. 

God, I wish every day I didn’t have feelings for him.  

“What’s really going on?” he says softly. The ball is in my court. I could let him know how I really feel. Or I could continue this facade that I’ve grown accustomed to and not take the chance of losing him completely from my life.

Afterall, it was Jeff who told me to take the chances that could make me face my worst fears on the basis of what if I get exactly what I want.

“I don’t think you would be ready for that conversation, Jeff.” His eyebrows furrowed, his face going from sympathetic to confused. 

“And what exactly would that conversation entail?”

“You.” I say, barely a whisper from getting choked up that I had the courage to finally admit it. 

From the state I was in, tears wanting to break free at any given moment, I could see it in his face that it finally clicked for him. A thousand thoughts were consuming me while looking into his eyes. All the pent up anxiety and doubts were finally surfacing right before him and I felt like I was in my worst emotional nightmare. 

“I’m sorry.” I push his hands off my face and grab some of the same items I had back in my arms. I can hear him trying to stop me, but I can’t bear to listen and face the opened Pandora's box. This time he doesn’t follow me into the kitchen, so I take this small moment alone to pull myself together. I was ready to go back and get the rest of the items, but Jeff beat me to the punch, waltzing in and putting them away for me. 

No words, not a sound from the two of us. The two dogs come up to me, wanting attention from me. I can hear Jeff in the refrigerator, organizing the shelves now that there’s leftovers. To have this moment truly alone with him, I let the dogs out in the gated backyard, so they can enjoy whatever sunlight is left outside. 

“How long have you felt this way?” he asks. My back is still turned to him, my hand not even off the doorknob yet. 

“A while.”

“Define ‘a while’-”

“I’d rather not,” I say with my voice dripping with venom. I didn’t mean to sound like that, but that little question pushed my buttons yet again. Finally, I turned around to face him. “Besides, it doesn’t matter at this point. It’s already out there for you to do whatever with.”

He just stares at me. For the life of me, I can’t read how he’s feeling, which is a rarity. Jeff is an open book of a person with those closest to him. Hell, the man has even cried in front of me without being ashamed over it. For this to be occurring, I can only anticipate the worst for what’s to come of us. 

I mentally wave my white flag and walk straight towards the dining room to escape this suffocating situation. I feel his hand grab my arm, his touch springing a millisecond of hope within my heart. 

And he kisses me. 

Like he kisses me. 

I gently press him up against the fridge and put my right hand on the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. One kiss turned into many more and now we’re fully making out. His hands grab at my waist to pull me right up against him and hold onto it.

I was ready to fucking faint. 

“How long is it okay to keep the dogs outside?” he asks in between kissing me.

“Why you ask, huh?”

“Because I want to take my sweet time with you.” 

Somebody better pinch me now because if this is one of my wet dreams, I’m going to be pissed. 

“If they could, they would stay outside until we were ready for bed.”

“Perfect,” and he goes right back to kissing me, harder this time. I break our kiss and leave the kitchen, going straight for the guest bedroom that was upstairs. Jeff follows suit, basically running after me. When he gets close enough to me on the stairs he takes a swing at my ass, leaving a loud smack to it. 

“Aren’t you eager,” I sarcastically said to him. I hear him let out a laugh and once at the top, he pulls me into his arms with my back to his chest, leaving kisses on my neck. “Jeff, we aren’t even in the bedroom yet!” 

“I” kiss “don’t” kiss “care” kiss. A giggle escapes me while he leads me into the room. Both of our bags sit at the foot of the bed – a rather big one for a guest bedroom. 

He grabs my face to kiss me once again and the moment becomes all too real when I can feel the warmth of the sunset shine on us through the elongated window. 

Now that’s a photo I would do anything to have. 

“So just that we’re clear,” I say when breaking away from the kiss. “I’m going to take a guess and say you feel the same way as I do?”

“Yes. Very much so,” and as he tries to go back in for a kiss, I place my finger to his lips to stop him before going any further. 

“I need specifics. I will not let us shift the dynamic of our friendship until I know the specifics. Now talk.” 

“Y/N, the boner is oh so slowly making its way down, could we please-”

“Speak. Now.”

He sighs and grabs my face once again. “I’ve had such a crush on you for a while now. When we first met I felt this weird gravitational pull to stay in your life. I know how hard it’s been to try to make and keep friends while pursuing what we want to do and you were the first guiding light I managed to find out of nowhere.”

Seriously, he’s going to make me cry again?

“I knew I was screwed when you were flirting with that guy six months back at the bar we went to in Midtown. I got so jealous and I didn’t even want to try to make you jealous back because I wanted your attention on me and only me,” he looks at me sheepishly and I furrow my brows in confusion of what else he’s about to say. “I may have been the one to sabotage your chances with him that night. I’m not proud of it! That was the straw that broke the camel’s back for me because I just knew in that instance that I wanted to make you mine.”

As much as I’m feeling mushy about his admission, I can’t help myself to hit him in the arm. 

“You were the one to ruin my chances with that guy?! Admittingly, I sweet talked him up because I couldn’t get anything out of you that night and saw you were chatting with other girls!” and that smile. That goofy, handsome ass smile broke out on his face. “You are so lucky I like you and can’t stay mad at you for too long.”

“Ah, I know.” Jeff goes right to kissing me and we finally make our way onto the bed. 

<><><>

My eyes finally opened to see one of the dogs looking right back at me, their tongue sticking out and tail picking speed at the sight of me waking up. They do this every morning like clockwork. 

I feel a warm, long arm wrapped up on my bare skin, holding onto me well. The flashbacks of last night flood my brain in the most delectable way I can remember it. 

“Fuck, Jeff right there- yes!” I screamed as he was on top of me, mercilessly pounding against me. My knuckles went white while holding onto the wooden headboard behind my head. It’s either my hands stay here or absolutely scratch up his back to no end. 

“Nobody gonna fuck you this good, huh?” he breathlessly said in my ear, then moved his head to give me a hard kiss. My moans couldn’t hold back, even against his plump, soft lips. 

I could’ve been like that forever. 

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Jeff’s voice snaps me out of trance and I twist my head to take a look at him. His dark curls were a mess, hazel eyes that weren’t ready to be fully opened yet, and a soft smile cascaded his lips. 

He was utterly perfect to me. 

“Good morning to you too,” I say and fully twist my body over to face him. He goes right in to give me a kiss the moment he can. My hand finds the side of his face, holding on to it to deepen it. His hands slide down my body and land on my ass to pull me even closer to him. 

“Morning sex sounds like a fabulous idea, don’t you think?” 

“Okay, but only one round and make it quick. I got the dogs to take care of. They need their breakfast.” 

Jeff chuckles against my lips and flips us to have me on top. “Yeah, but I need my breakfast too.”

<><><>

Present day…

I set the photo down near the ones Jeff already picked out. It fits so well amongst the ones that are making the book. His life in photos before my eyes, seeing him when he was a child to when he got to hold our first child. 

I look over at him and he’s already staring at me with a smirk.

“What?”

“Want to go recreate that day right now?”

“Jeffrey!” I hit his arm, but he got a hold of it to pull me in for a kiss. He is still as flirtily vivacious as he was in his 20’s. I still can’t get enough of it. “Alright fine, but it’s almost dinner time and we need to feed the dogs.”

“Yes, but I like my dessert before my dinner.”

Just look at him!