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Closed Position: Week 6 (Argentine Tango)
Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)
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Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition, Dancing with the Stars, would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble.
Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on the show to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo.
Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.
Chapter Word Count: 27.3k (I know, I'm sorry!)
👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence (not by or toward Dieter), past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.
👉 Chapter Warnings: Dieter and Kat both being a menace, improper use of a dressing room, smut, fluff, and physical assault (Alec is a dick)
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Chapter Quote: “Can’t have you gettin’ confused and grabbing the wrong erection.”
Dieter’s POV
I was still riding high from our perfect score as I sat in the chair staring at my reflection in the vanity mirror. I shouldn’t have been shocked given how perfectly in sync Kat and I were during the performance, but I was. I never thought I would find myself in this position - happily sober, having the high score on a dance competition TV show, and completely in love with my dance partner. The thought of it was blowing my mind. There was only one explanation for it, to put it simply, it was Kat. Her unyielding faith was all it took to help me see myself in a different light. She made me realize that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for and I’m actually not a shitty person. She gave me the courage to be a better version of myself and have the things I didn’t think I was worthy of. 
My attention was drawn from my thoughts by the buzzing of my phone. I had a new text from Evan and another from my agent, Lenny. I tapped to open Evan’s.
Evan: Dude, if you two are trying to keep things on the down low, you suck at it. That performance was 🔥🔥🔥.
Me: That obvious? Fuck. 
Evan: Yeah, better be prepared for the inevitable speculation to ramp up.
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose as a soft knock sounded at my door. I assumed it was Kat as I called out, “Door’s open.”
A petite brunette tentatively stuck her head through the crack as she opened the door. I recognized her as Marc’s partner. Shit. What’s her name? She’s the TikTok girl. Sarah? No…Stefanie!
“Hey, Stefanie. What’s up?” I asked, a little confused by her presence.
She pushed the door open further to step inside. She was wringing her hands together as Marc followed her through the threshold. She seemed tense and unsure. 
“I’m sorry to bother you, Dieter. It may be nothing…but I just saw Alec coming up behind Kat in her dressing room as she shut the door. It looked…odd. I don’t think she knew he was in there. I know they’re…”
Blood was suddenly pounding in my ears. I didn’t hear the rest of her sentence as I stood from my seat and asked, “Did you see him come out or hear anything?”
She shook her head, “No, but it gave me a weird vibe. With everything going on, we felt like someone should know.” 
I nodded, already moving toward the door. “She doesn’t wanna be alone with him. Thank you for telling me.” 
Without giving it a second thought I was jogging down the hall toward Kat’s dressing room, vaguely aware that Marc and Stefanie were following behind me. I felt sick. Something doesn’t feel right about this. 
I began knocking and calling out to her as soon as I reached the door, “Kat, it's me. Can I come in?”
I got nothing but silence in return. Marc turned to one of the other couples who were standing just outside a dressing room across the hallway. “Did you see Kat or Alec come out?” he asked. With wide-eyes, they shook their heads no. 
I could feel my heart pounding out of my chest. If they were only talking, she would still answer me. Right?
I knocked harder, “Kat, I’m coming in.” 
I reached for the knob and twisted, but it was locked. “Fuck!”
My chest was heaving as I looked around with panicked eyes. I could faintly hear Marc saying something about keys before the couple that had been standing nearby took off down the hallway. My attention was drawn back to the door, convinced I heard a light thump against it. I glanced at Marc, and he nodded. He heard it too. Before I even realized what I was doing, my shoulder began knocking against the hard metal as I continued to yell for Kat to unlock it. The door did not budge. Realizing that it was pointless to continue, I stepped back, allowing my eyes to scan the area for anyone who could possibly help. There was no one else around. 
I could feel the panic setting in, worried that Alec might be doing something to hurt her. Given the way he looked at us as he left the staging area toward the end of the show, I couldn’t help thinking the worst. 
The sound of the knob jiggling brought my attention back to the door. I reached out, twisting to find that it was now unlocked. As I pushed it open, I was briefly met by Alec’s surprised face before my focus shifted to Kat, clawing at his hands clasped tightly around her neck. Her eyes were wide in panic as she gasped for air. I reacted on instinct, determined to keep her safe as I threw myself at him. I had never in my life wanted to cause anyone bodily harm, but at that moment I was out for blood. 
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Kat’s POV
I could feel the fight in me fading as Alec’s hands tightened around my throat. I was near blacking out when I heard Dieter knocking at the door. Hearing his voice and knowing that he was trying to get to me ignited a new burst of adrenaline. I tried to call out to him but couldn’t get any sound to come out. Alec seemed unfazed by the fact that someone was at the door. His focus was on my face, stoic and unblinking. I tried kneeing him in the groin, but once he realized what I was doing, he somehow maneuvered himself between my thighs so that I couldn’t. 
I was so afraid Dieter would leave, thinking I wasn’t in here. So, I changed tactics, kicking at the door with my heel while trying to relieve some of the pressure around my neck with my hands. I could feel myself fading again as Alec regained his tight grip. I could hear Dieter trying to open the door. I was torn between not wanting him to find me like this and praying he got the door open. I knew he would lose it on Alec if he saw this. 
I somehow found the strength to twist in Alec’s grip, which allowed me to forcefully connect an elbow with the side of his face. The shock of it caused him to release his hold just enough that I was able to reach the door handle to my left and unlock it. Alec didn’t realize what I had done until he was face-to-face with a very angry Dieter Bravo. 
Dieter had Alec on the floor in the blink of an eye, shoving him off of me then giving a quick jab to the throat before pinning Alec down as he gasped for air. Marc and his partner followed Dieter into the room. They immediately came to my aid as I rubbed at the stinging and throbbing around my neck, fighting back tears as I inhaled deeply to catch my breath. 
I pushed them away, moving toward Dieter. I attempted to plead for him to stop, but I couldn’t get any sound out. My throat felt raw through my feeble attempts. I pushed Marc toward them, begging him to do something. I couldn’t let Dieter get in trouble over this asshole. 
It all happened so fast as Dieter got a few solid punches in before wrapping his hands around Alec’s throat as he cursed the man underneath him. I never would have imagined Dieter was capable of such a reaction, but it made me realize the lengths he would go to in order to protect those he cares about. The crazed look in his eyes probably should have scared me, but it didn’t. All I could think of doing was protecting him. 
Even though Dieter was a lot bigger than Marc, Marc somehow managed to pull him off Alec before he took it too far. Alec scrambled to his feet, fear briefly flashing on his face before he collected himself and gave us both a sneer as he wiped at his bloody lips. “See, I knew you were lying to me,” he said with an accusatory tone. 
Dieter opened his mouth to speak as Marc continued to hold him back. I stepped forward, placing my hand on his shoulder, silencing him and causing his attention to focus on me. 
I met Alec’s glare, “I told you there was nothing going on between us. Why can’t you just accept the fact that you’re the one who fucked up?” 
Alec smirked, “Was? There was nothing…but there is now? Right?” 
When I didn’t answer, he nodded then scoffed out a laugh. “You may not have acted on it, but you were attracted to him. You were thinking about it. You were all too happy to get rid of me the first chance you got.” 
I could feel the anger flaring in my chest, feeling defiant against his accusations. “The moment that I walked in on you fucking Lana was the moment you lost the right to know anything about me. It’s none of your damn business. I told you I didn’t do anything, and I know I didn’t do anything wrong. That’s all that matters to me. You can spout off whatever bullshit about us that you want, I don’t care anymore. Everyone knows you’re the one who cheated anyway. You can thank the paparazzi for that.” 
I could see in Alec’s eyes the exact moment he realized he didn’t have control over me anymore. This whole encounter had been a serious wakeup call and blow to his ego. He was scared of Dieter and now he was scared of me. I knew the real him and I was no longer afraid to expose him for what he was - an abusive narcissist. The perfect public image that he had worked so hard to cultivate and maintain was crumbling around him, and he was the cause of it. 
Alec turned to leave, but Dieter’s voice stopped him. “If you ever lay another hand on her, I will fucking end you. You hear me?” 
Alec smirked as he turned to face Dieter, putting on that cocky persona that he used as a defense mechanism, “Are you threatening me, Bravo?” 
Dieter let out a menacing chuckle, “No, it’s a promise. I’m not fucking around with you anymore.” 
Alec’s smile faltered. He had been expecting Dieter to backtrack on that statement. He nodded, pursing his lips, “I’ll keep that in mind.” He wiped at his bloody face as he turned to leave. 
Once Alec was out of sight, Marc finally released Dieter. Dieter’s hands immediately reached toward me to survey the damage. I winced as his fingertips gently grazed my neck, “Kat, you need to call the police and report this.”
I pulled his hand away, shaking my head gingerly. “No. If I do that, it’ll be all over the gossip sites and news tomorrow morning. That stuff is public record. I can’t handle that right now.” 
Dieter huffed in exasperation, “What if he does this again? This is the second time I’ve witnessed it, and this time was way worse.” 
Marc stepped forward, “I agree with Dieter. I’ll be happy to give a statement…Alec was out of line.” 
I shook my head again, “No. Dieter, I…” I paused, not knowing what to say. I knew he wasn’t going to be concerned about himself. “Dieter, I don’t want you to get into trouble. He may retaliate by pressing charges against you or something…it’ll turn into a whole thing. I’m not gonna let him ruin your reputation when you’ve been working so hard to fix it.” 
I could tell Dieter was getting frustrated as he ran his hands down his face, “I don’t care about that. I was protecting you… this is on him.”
I sighed, “I know you were, and I’m thankful you came to me…but that won’t matter. The headlines will be that you assaulted someone. That’s all people will see.” 
I grabbed his hands as I peered up at him, “He’s not gonna do it again. You scared the hell out of him tonight. I could see it. Also, there are two witnesses besides us. He’s fucked and he knows it. Let’s just…deal with it my way? Ok? Please.” 
For the first time, my attention shifted to Stefanie as she moved to close the door.
“Sorry, there’s a bit of a crowd forming out there. Everyone must finally be making their way down here from the ballroom.” 
Now that I had a moment to think, I didn’t know why Marc and Stefanie were here.
“Dieter, how did you know he was in here?” I asked.
Stefanie meekly raised her hand, “I told him. I saw Alec as you were closing the door. He seemed…off. Marc felt like we needed to get Dieter, so we did.” 
“Why did you feel like you needed to get Dieter?” I asked Marc.
He shrugged, thinking through his next words before he spoke. “You two seem…close. I figured he would know if it was something to be worried about or not.” 
Close? Fuck. Were we really that obvious? I puffed air out of my cheeks before walking over to Stefanie and pulling her into a hug, “Thank you for noticing something wasn’t right. I don’t know how that would have gone otherwise.” 
I turned to Marc, thanking him as well before asking. “If you guys don’t mind, please keep the details of this between us for now?” 
They both nodded. “Out of everyone on the cast, we’re probably the only ones you can trust. We won’t say anything.” Marc replied.
“What if Stacia and Joe ask us about it?” Stefanie questioned. 
I sighed, “If they do, tell them what you saw…and I’ll handle the rest.”
I glanced over at Dieter as he sank down into a chair, placing his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. I could tell he wasn’t handling this well. I looked back to Stefanie and Marc, “Would you guys mind giving us some privacy?”
They both looked in Dieter’s direction with a sympathetic expression before nodding and moving to exit. Before I closed the door behind them, Marc turned to me. “Kat…let us know if you guys need anything, yeah? Doesn’t matter what it is.”
I nodded, “I will, thank you.” 
After closing and locking the door, I moved to stand in front of Dieter. I had to nearly pry his hands from his face, but even then he still wouldn't look at me. I crowded his space, forcing him to lean back in the seat as I hiked my dress up to straddle him. He was still avoiding my eyes as I reached for him, cupping his cheeks to angle his head upward so I could look at him. His eyes were pooling with tears as his jaw flexed under my hands. He looked broken. It was almost enough to shatter the facade I was trying so hard to maintain for his sake. 
“Talk to me. What’s wrong?” I finally asked. 
He shook his head, pulling my hands from his cheeks. 
“Dieter, don’t push me out. Please.” 
He took a deep breath, looking anywhere but at me. “I…just…I thought something bad happened. I was scared that you were hurt…and I couldn’t get to you. Then I…just sort of lost it when I saw what he was doing to you. I’m sorry. I’ve never…I’m not like that. I don’t want you to think I’m like that. I’m not a violent person…” 
The more he spoke, the more distressed he seemed. My hands found their way back to his cheeks as I tried to sooth him, “Hey, it’s ok. I know you’re not like that. You were protecting me. I would’ve done the same for you.” 
That seemed to help him relax some as he leaned into my touch. His arms slid around my waist, pulling me closer, “I’m sorry, just ignore me. I think what happened is starting to hit me…are you really OK? Do you need to go to get checked out? I can take you if…”
My hands slid down to rest on the sides of his neck as my thumbs rubbed against his scruffy jawline, “No, I’m fine. I promise. You got to me before he did any real damage.”
He leaned back some for a better view as his hand reached to push the hair away from my neck. His brow furrowed. I could see his eyes flash with anger and pain. 
“You’re probably gonna have bruises.”
I shrugged and sighed, “Not the first time…” 
His lips set into a tight line before he pulled me in for a firm embrace, nuzzling his scratchy beard against the exposed skin on my chest. I hugged him against me, aching to run my fingers through his hair, but the copious amounts of hair gel made that impossible. I settled for rubbing just below his hairline on the back of his neck instead. 
He seemed vulnerable, but I didn’t really understand why. I needed him to understand that I didn’t think he did anything wrong. I leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of his head, “Thank you…for looking out for me. I’m not sure I’d have the strength to get him out of my life without you.” 
He shifted so that he could look up at me with a sad smile, “Thank you for letting me.” 
A lump formed in my throat as I returned his smile, then leaned down to capture his lips with mine. It was a languid kiss, full of emotion and need, yet somehow not sexual at all. It was comforting and everything we both needed to ground ourselves after the ordeal we had just gone through. 
We were distracted by a knock on the door. It was one of the assistants from the costume department. “Kat, we still need your costume,” she called through the door, clearly unaware of the drama that had just unfolded. 
I huffed as Dieter’s hands rubbed up and down my sides, “Yeah, give me a few minutes.” I called back. 
My eyes focused on him, “You better go get changed too. They’ll be after you next.”
He rolled his eyes, lifting me with him as he stood. 
“Lock the door behind me, please. I’ll be back after I’m done.” 
I nodded and did as he asked, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves as I turned the lock. It was taking everything in me not to fall apart. The urge to burst into tears had been steadily growing since Alec left the room, but I had somehow managed to ward them off. I couldn’t fall apart here. I needed to wait until I got home. I wanted nothing more than to go home with Dieter and let him soothe all the bad feelings away, but I knew I needed to spend some time alone to process what happened. I needed time to myself to feel it and work through it. I didn’t want Dieter to see me like that. I worried it would be too much for him. 
I moved around the room, almost on autopilot, changing out of my costume and putting it into the garment bag. Just as I was pulling my shirt over my head, Dieter was back, knocking at the door. I grabbed the garment bag as I went to unlock the door for him, hanging it on the hook just outside for pickup before turning to grab my things so we could leave. 
“Did you still wanna grab some dinner? Maybe we get something to go?” he asked. 
I sighed, “I think I’m actually just gonna go home.” 
I could see the panic in his eyes. He thought I didn’t want to be around him. I looped my hand around his bicep and gave it a reassuring squeeze as we walked toward the exit to the parking lot. “I feel like doing a cleansing. I actually wanna go home and pack up all Alec’s shit so I can be done with him, for good. Especially after tonight. It’s something I need to do.” 
He nodded, seeming to understand, but he still looked like a wounded puppy. 
“How about we do dinner at your place tomorrow after rehearsal?” I asked. We hadn’t really gotten to spend any quality time together since coming back from New York. I wanted to, just not tonight. 
He seemed to perk up a bit and chuckled, “Are you volunteering me to cook for you?”
I shrugged, “I mean…I would never turn down one of your homemade meals, but I would settle for takeout if you didn’t feel like it. I really just wanna spend some non-dance time with you and see Zee again too, of course.” 
That elicited a big smile from him as he held the door open for me. “I won’t argue with that,” he finally said. 
When we reached my vehicle, he opened the door, standing with it between us. 
“Lemme know when you get home, please?”
I nodded, wanting nothing more than to kiss him, but I knew eyes could be anywhere. 
“And call me if you need anything. I don’t care what or when…I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” 
I chuckled, “It would take at least thirty.” 
He shook his head and laughed, “Nope, fifteen.”
I rolled my eyes as I sat down in the driver’s seat, “I’ll see you at the production meeting in the morning. Go get some rest. I expect there’ll be a full interrogation.” 
He huffed in annoyance as he reached down to hit the lock button on the door, then smiled, pushing the door shut as he said “Good night, Kit Kat.”  The smile didn’t reach his eyes. 
I suddenly felt torn. Maybe we did need to be together tonight. I shook the thought away as I moved to start the car, deciding to continue on with my plan. 
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When I got home, I sent Dieter a quick text to let him know I was locked in. I settled on heating up a can of soup for dinner, given that my throat was not feeling the greatest. I actually found the warmth from it to be somewhat soothing as I took a quick inventory of how much of Alec’s stuff was actually at my place and hoped that the stash of Amazon boxes that I hadn’t put out for trash pickup would be enough to pack it all. 
I worked in anger for hours, going through the house shoving things in boxes without any organization or order, muttering that he should consider himself lucky that I wasn’t just throwing it all out on the lawn and burning it like I wanted to. I couldn’t understand how it had come to this. I knew he had a darker side, but I never could have imagined that he would take it this far. I was almost certain that if we had been anywhere else that he couldn’t have been interrupted, he might not have stopped. The dead-eyed stare as his fingers tightened around my throat scared the hell out of me. His intent was to hurt me. There was no question about it. 
As I was rummaging around behind the clothes hanging in my closet, I bumped against my guitar case that was hidden behind everything. It fell over with a thud, causing a low thrumming of the strings, which was muted by the case. The sight of the instrument instantly had my stomach in knots. I hadn’t taken it out of the case since Alec and I first started dating six years ago. He had only seen me play it twice and that was all it took for me to never play in front of him again. His critical commentary made me feel inadequate under his gaze. It made me self-conscious and took the fun out of something that was once my refuge. Which was sort of ridiculous because Alec didn’t know the first thing about playing or music. He always had terrible taste. I really think what it came down to is that it was something that could take attention away from him. That probably should have been my first hint that he was not for me. 
After taking a few deep breaths, I laid the case flat on the floor and opened it. The vintage Gibson Hummingbird looked exactly as it had last time I laid eyes on it. Untouched by time and dust. I reached out, running my fingertips over the glossy black mahogany edges and classic light wood tone sunburst along the lower bout. The memory of the day my father gave it to me came rushing back. He had found it dirt cheap at a yard sale of all places and was beyond excited to give it to me. The memories of the times we played together seemed so long ago, but they were just as vivid as if it were yesterday. Then there was the memory of playing with Dieter at his house. I realized it had felt the same playing with him, freeing almost.
My fingers trailed up to the hummingbird motif engraved into the pickguard. It was my favorite part because it reminded me of my mom. Hummingbirds were always her favorite and I loved having a little piece of her with me after she died. I reached to pick it up, watching the mother of pearl inlay on the fingerboard reflect in the light as I twisted it to set in my lap. My fingers strummed along the strings and moved along the frets, getting reacquainted with my old friend. 
Without even realizing, I began to strum out the chords of the song Dieter and I had sung together that night at his house, Scars on this Guitar. It felt fitting as I began to hum along. A calmness washed over me as I played. It was like I had found myself again. It was almost overwhelming as the tears suddenly flooded out of my eyes without warning. They weren’t sad tears. It was more from relief than anything.
I was soon distracted by my phone chiming with a text message. After wiping my face, I dug it out of the pocket of my sweatpants to find a text from Dieter. 
Dieter: I’m totally going to be a needy bitch and ask if I can call you before I fall asleep? Please. 🥺  
I chuckled, loving the fact that he didn’t take himself seriously and always said whatever he was feeling. 
Me: Of course you can. And I like it when you’re a needy bitch. 😏
I knew what he was doing. He wanted to check on me and I couldn’t even be upset about it. 
Moments later, my phone rang with an incoming FaceTime call. I huffed out a quiet “fuck” before wiping at my face some more. I hadn’t realized this would be a video call. I hoped he couldn’t tell that I had been crying. When I answered, I was met with flashes of light and fur. I could hear Dieter muttering, “What the fuck, Zee?” I couldn’t help laughing as the video shifted around to finally show most of his face. His chin and neck were covered by cat fur. He looked annoyed, “Heey honey, sorry. Zee decided she wanted to jump on my face just as soon as I hit the call button.”
I felt a rush of heat go through me at his words. I know I give him hell over the pet names, but now that I didn’t have Alec to worry about, I actually loved hearing him call me those things. 
I laughed, watching as he held the phone further away so I could see Zee lying sprawled out and wallowing on her back on top of his bare chest. She was rubbing her face against the scruff of his chin. It was the cutest and hottest thing I’d ever seen. 
I snickered, “It’s ok Zee, I get it. I like to rub against his face too.” 
Dieter snorted as he angled the phone back toward his face, “Well that wasn’t how I expected this conversation to start.” 
I laughed, holding the phone further away at a lower angle, hoping he couldn’t see my red eyes. 
He suddenly turned a little more serious as he stared into the camera, “I just wanted to check in, make sure you were doing ok…after everything today.”
I cleared my throat, “Yeah…I’m good. Just finished packing up his shit…so I feel a lot better now. I’ll text his brother to come get it off the porch tomorrow, so I don’t have to deal with him.” 
Dieter pursed his lips. I could tell he wanted to say something but was holding back. 
“What is it?” I asked.
He sighed, “Are you sure you don’t wanna go to the police?”
I puffed air out of my cheeks, “Yeah…I’m sure. I really don’t think he’s gonna try anything again. I’m pretty sure he’s terrified of getting his ass kicked now.” 
Dieter chuckled, “Who said anything about an ass kicking? I’ll make him disappear if it happens again.”
I smiled, “I’ll help you hide the body.” 
He laughed loudly, causing Zee to reach up and cover his mouth with her paw. He grabbed it, placing a small kiss on her little toe beans before murmuring a quiet, “Sorry, baby girl” into the fur on the top of her head. I really could have melted over how sweet he was with her. 
He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment as he looked off in the distance. His eyes eventually turned back to the camera. He seemed nervous.
“I feel like I need to apologize for how I acted. I lost control and let my emotions take over. I really don’t want you to think that’s normal behavior for me, because it’s not. I-I don’t do shit like that. Ever.”  
I could tell this was getting to him. The pain and desperation breaking through in his voice caused my eyes to prickle with tears again. I hated seeing him upset.
“Dieter, it’s ok. I know you’re not like him…if that’s what you’re worried about. I know you would never do that to me.” 
He appeared to relax some, but still seemed on edge. I suddenly felt selfish. I should have gone home with him tonight. He would never admit it, but it felt like this went deeper than what happened with Alec. I couldn’t help wondering if today’s events were causing something from his past to come to the surface. I wanted to ask, but that didn’t seem like a conversation to have over the phone. I suddenly felt the need to reassure him.  
We were quiet for a beat, but I finally broke the silence, “I can’t wait to spend some time with you tomorrow. I’m sort of kicking myself for not coming over tonight.” 
He gave me a soft smile, “The night’s not over…and my bed is always open…though you may have to fight Zee for a spot.” 
I tucked my bottom lip between my teeth, seriously considering his offer. “What time is it?” 
His head leaned up slightly, I assume to check the time, “A little after ten.”
Huffing out a sigh, I replied, “I better not. It’s already late and we have to be at the studio early.”
His eyes told me he disappointed, but he still smiled into the camera, “You want to though.” 
I groaned out a whiney “yeeees”, shifting to uncross my legs from where I still sat on the floor of my closet and sliding the guitar to the floor causing a slight hum from the strings. 
Dieter chuckled as a confused look formed on his face, “Where are you?”
I laughed, “Sitting on my closet floor…I…” I paused, wondering if I should tell him what I had been doing. His brows arched, waiting for me to continue. “I uhh, came across my guitar while I was looking for all Alec’s junk to pack up. I-I took it out of the case for the first time in years…”  
I looked away from the phone as I felt my eyes prickling again. Fuck. Why is this making me emotional? 
“Is that why you’ve been crying?” Dieter asked. 
My eyes darted back to the phone, “You could tell? And you didn’t say anything?”
He shrugged, “I know you’re dealing with stuff. I don’t expect you to tell me and I don’t wanna pry. I know you’ll talk when you’re ready.” 
I had to appreciate his patience with me. I never would have guessed that would be something he would so willingly give without me asking. 
I smiled, “Yes, that’s why I was crying. Honestly, playing with you a few weeks ago made me realize how much I missed it…and playing just now was such a fucking relief. I sort of feel like I found one of my missing pieces…ya know what I mean?” 
Dieter’s brows furrowed as his lips set into a tight line. He had a strange look in his eyes as he cleared his throat, “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.” 
I suddenly had butterflies in my stomach, feeling like his words had a deeper meaning that I couldn’t quite figure out. 
He rubbed at his face, “Well, we should probably get to bed. The sooner we fall asleep, the sooner I can be with you tomorrow.” 
I laughed, “Yeah. You’re right. I’ll see you in the morning.” 
He gave me a small smile, “Night, Kit Kat.” 
We both lingered in silence for a few seconds longer than necessary before disconnecting the call. My feelings for him were growing. There was no denying it. It scared me a little as I reminded myself that it was like this with Alec once. I didn’t see his red flags in the beginning. What if I was missing them with Dieter? I had to shake that thought away. It was ridiculous. I was just psyching myself out. Dieter had already proven ten times over that he was a good person and that he cared about me. 
After pulling myself up out of the floor and giving a full body stretch to loosen up my stiff and aching joints, I got ready for bed and settled into a restless sleep. 
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Dieter and I both arrived at Television City Studios earlier than necessary. He was already in the lobby waiting with coffee when I walked in. He didn’t have to say why he was so early because I knew it was the same reason I was there early, I wanted to see him. 
He stood when I approached, his gaze immediately focusing on my neck as he reached to brush my hair away from it. His questioning eyes shifted to mine as his thumb grazed down the side of my throat.
“I’m ok. It’s not that bad. I was able to cover it with makeup,” I said in response. 
He sighed heavily. I could see the anger flashing in his eyes as he pulled away to rub at the back of his neck when an intern walked by. My eyes were drawn to his hand. I could see slight bruising around the knuckles, but it didn’t seem too bad. Not as bad as last time anyway. 
“You didn’t tell me you were hurt,” I said.
He glanced at his knuckles, “It’s nothing…not even sore. Should’ve hit him harder.” 
“Keep that out of sight while we’re meeting with them. If they ask…as far as they’re concerned, I hit him. You only pushed him off, got it?”
He huffed, then shook his head, “You don’t have to lie for me…”
I shrugged, “It’s not a lie. I did hit him.”
Dieter’s brows knitted together, “You did?”
I nodded, “Yeah, how do you think I got the door unlocked? I elbowed him in the face.”
He smiled, suddenly looking proud. “I don’t condone violence, but I’m kind of happy you did that. He deserved it.”
We moved to sit in the chairs next to each other, trying our best to keep our hands to ourselves as we waited. It wasn’t long before a PA came to get us for the meeting. When we entered the conference room, Stacia and Joe were waiting. They both had a stony expression on their faces and only nodded in greeting. Fuck. They know. 
After we got situated in our seats, I felt Dieter’s leg rest against mine under the table. He could sense the tension too. 
Joe crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat as Stacia eyed us with pursed lips. She seemed to be weighing how to start this conversation. 
“So, it looks like things went well in New York. Did you two have a good time?”
Small talk. Really? Dieter and I glanced at each other with confusion. “Yeah, I mean it was busy as fuck, but we had fun,” Dieter answered.
“The footage you took was great by the way…and so were your social media posts. The fans ate it up,” Joe said.
“Did you guys take the time to do anything fun? I saw the open mic night video…” Stacia interjected.
There it is. Dieter gave a tight smile as he looked between them, “Not really. We stayed pretty busy with rehearsals for this and SNL. We barely had time to eat and sleep.”
Stacia gave us a disbelieving look, “But you did open mic night?”
Dieter shrugged, “The SNL cast invited us out for dinner that night. We sort of got roped into it.” 
Stacia pursed her lips and nodded before asking, “Where did you rehearse? The hotel said you didn’t use the rented space.” 
Dieter and I both grimaced before he answered, “Yeah, sorry. There was a large outdoor terrace with our suite. We just used that. It was more convenient with our crazy hours.” 
She gave a tight smile in return, “Well, I’m happy the suite worked out so well for you two then.”
She sighed, the vibe shifting as she leaned back into her seat and rubbed at her temples, “Kat, we need to talk about what happened last night with Alec…I wanna hear your side of it before we do anything.”  
I puffed air out of my cheeks, “What did he say happened?” 
She shook her head, “No. I want you to tell me your version of what happened first.”  My version. So that’s how this is gonna go. Great.
I took a controlled breath, the last thing I needed to do was lose it on them. 
“After the show, I went to my dressing room. He was there waiting for me. When I walked in, he grabbed me from behind, shoved me up against the wall, mouthed off for a minute, then started choking me. By that point, Marc and Stefanie had gone to get Dieter. He was trying to get in, but Alec had locked the door. I managed to elbow Alec in the face and he let go long enough for me to unlock it. Dieter came in and pulled him off me.” 
Her eyes shifted between me and Dieter, “So, Dieter didn’t attack him?”
I shrugged, “He pushed Alec away from me and then Alec fell to the floor.”
She was quiet for a beat, studying us. “Alec says that Dieter found you two alone…talking, and then attacked him.” 
I let out a disbelieving laugh. Anything to make himself look better. Then it occurred to me, maybe he didn’t realize how much Marc and Stefanie had actually seen. He only saw Marc pulling Dieter off of him. What a fucking dumbass.
“Well, that’s a lie. Dieter was protecting me. Alec attacked me.” 
Stacia’s eyes narrowed as they shifted between us, “I need for you to tell me what’s going on between the three of you so we can figure out how to move forward. Did you cheat on him with Dieter? What’s the deal? Why’s he mad enough to attack you? Make it make sense.”
Bitch. She’s one hundred percent fishing for information. I felt Dieter nudge my leg under the table. I pressed mine against his as I leaned forward. 
“Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but no, I didn’t cheat on him. He cheated on me. With Lana. He's pissed because I’ve run out of chances to give and I’m standing up for myself. I’m done and he can’t accept it. He’s trying to make us out to be the bad guys…to make himself feel better and it’s not working in his favor because we haven’t done anything wrong.” 
I could see Stacia’s jaw clench as she digested my explanation. I purposefully didn’t address mine and Dieter’s current relationship status. I could tell that she was trying to work out how to get that question answered without asking again. Joe sighed heavily beside her and shook his head as he leaned forward to speak. 
“Look, I pulled the security footage. Where the camera is in the hallway…I couldn’t see everything. I could see that he went to your dressing room and waited for you, and I could see how Marc and Stefanie reacted after you went inside and how Dieter was reacting after they went and got him. Their story matches yours, so I’m inclined to believe that Alec is lying. That’s grounds to remove him from the cast…”
I interrupted him, “No. Don’t. Let him stay.”
I could feel Dieter’s shocked eyes on me as I continued, “When we win, I want it to be because we beat him, not because he got kicked off. All that I ask is that you have security nearby when we’re all here. Make it known to him that you know what happened and the only reason he’s still here is because of my grace and because I wanna crush his fucking ego by winning the competition with Dieter.” 
Joe moved to speak but I cut him off by holding up my hand, “I’m not done. My other request is that you both stop your fucking meddling. This is partially your fault too. You were trying your hardest to manufacturer drama for this season and you fucking got it. You wanted your cast romance, now you got that with Alec and Lana…so leave us alone.” 
Stacia suddenly looked hurt by my words as she spoke up, “Kat, we had no idea this would happen, we couldn’t have. You can’t blame us for this.” 
I scoffed, “No, but you hoped something…would happen.”
She sighed, “Look, I knew Alec was sort of an asshole, but I never would have thought he would attack you. You didn’t deserve it…and I am sorry if we created the conditions for it. It wasn’t the intention.” 
Her apology almost seemed genuine, until she opened her mouth again. 
“You and Dieter are the fan favorites right now. Our ratings are up because people wanna see you two together…and you guys have become close friends. I can’t apologize for our decision to partner you up or for our focus on you. I still think it was the right thing to do, and I stand by that.”
“Oh no, I’m happy you put Dieter and I together. It's the intentions behind your choices that are the problem…just so we’re clear.” 
Stacia and I locked eyes. I could tell she wanted to say more, but she was cut off by Joe, who seemed to be handling this more sensibly. 
“Well, given that you don’t want us to let Alec go, I do think we need to make some changes. During the professional performances, if you need to partner up, you’ll be working with Marc from now on. He didn’t like working with Anika anyway. And maybe we split the professionals up into two troupes so we can keep you guys apart as much as possible. I’m sure Emily can make that work with the choreography somehow.”
Joe rattled on about some other precautions he wanted to put into place for a bit longer, then they finally let that topic drop and got back to business. Stacia pulled out the sketches for this week’s costumes. They had me in a short lacy black dress with a low back and long sleeves. It left little to the imagination, but I was used to that. So, I gave a quick nod of approval. They had Dieter in simple black pants and a black long sleeve button up dress shirt.
Stacia seemed a little more reserved than normal as she went over the details. Our earlier conversation had obviously struck some sort of nerve with her. 
“This week we have you two doing the Argentine Tango to the song You Put A Spell On Me.”
Joe smiled smugly, “That should be an interesting one. Can’t wait to see what you two come up with.”
Based on his reaction to it, I assumed this wasn’t the same song that I was familiar with. He seemed too giddy about it. I glanced over at Dieter. His brows were slightly furrowed. He seemed just as intrigued as I was. We were done soon after that, not wanting to hang around any longer than we had to. 
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After grabbing a quick lunch at the small Greek diner at Dieter’s suggestion, we made our way to the dance studio to begin rehearsals for the week. We started like we always did, by cueing up our song. Both of us sat sprawled out on the floor as the sultry notes greeted us. I suddenly felt hot as my skin prickled from the music. It was beyond sexy and had my mind racing with ideas that were not meant for a public performance. 
Dieter and I sat listening, wide-eyed as we fully took in the lyrics. Once the song ended, his brows pinched together as he pursed his lips. I could already tell he had some sort of sarcastic comment brewing.
“So…,” he finally said with a look of confusion, “Do they just want us to have sex on the dance floor? Because I feel like they want us to have sex on the dance floor. They’re just asking for it at this point…Which is not very family friendly of them...”  
I chuckled. He wasn’t wrong. It was a very sexual song. 
“How spicy are we allowed to be? I feel like we should push the limits of what’s acceptable just to be obnoxious and because they won’t expect it,” he added.
Honestly, the thought of it was sort of thrilling. I had never taken that route with a performance on the show before. Doing it with Dieter made it seem even more tantalizing because I knew it would piss Alec off and get people’s attention. 
“Well…there have been some pretty racy performances in the past, so it’s not out of the question.” 
Dieter giggled, “Let’s just see how many different ways we can act out the lyrics.”  
I snorted, “Act out the lyrics? Really? You want me to undress you on the dance floor?” 
He scratched at his scruff as he smirked, “Why not? You are a pro at getting me naked.” 
I felt heat creeping up my cheeks as I gave him an admonishing look, which caused him to let out one of his boisterous laughs. 
I shook my head and rolled my eyes at him as he moved to stand. He then framed his arms up and began stomping back and forth dramatically in a stereotypical tango style dance, “Come on Kit Kat, let's get to it. Time to get nasty.” 
I couldn’t help laughing at him. His playfulness always got to me. I loved that he now showed me this side of himself. Thinking back to our first week together, he never would have acted like this. He had opened up so much since then. I could feel my heart do a little flutter at the thought as I stood to join him. 
I grabbed his hand, pulling him toward me so he would stop the ridiculous stomping thing he was doing. “First of all…this is an Argentine Tango, not an International Tango…or whatever it is you think you’re doing….”
He dropped his head and snorted out a laugh as I gave him a teasing smile. 
“It’s not as stiff…doesn’t have the quick and decisive movements that most people associate with the tango. The hold is different, allowing for more freedom of expression so that the dance can be anything from slow and sensual to fast and strong. We’ll need to include intertwining leg combos and dynamic lifts. The judges will be looking for those.”
He was in full student mode now, listening intently and nodding along. I smiled, deciding to throw him a curve ball, suggestively running my fingers down his chest as I spoke. 
“The best description I’ve ever heard that explains the difference in the two dances is that the International Tango is for dancing with your wife and the Argentine Tango is for dancing with your lover.” 
He nodded as a wide smile spread across his face, “I’m pretty sure I can handle it given that we’ve nailed the horizontal tango already...” 
I closed my eyes, biting my bottom lip to stifle a laugh. “I can’t win with you…” I finally managed to huff out. He gave me a smug smile and shrugged. 
I continued on, still fighting a smile, “Anyway, let’s start with the hold then we can go through some gancho and staccato leg combos. I think that’ll probably be the hardest part for you to get. Then we’ll go from there.” 
Once Dieter got the basics down, we began to build our routine. Both of us laughing and having more fun than we usually did. It seemed that our evolving relationship off the dance floor was changing the dynamic on it as well. The communication between us came easily now. So much of it being non-verbal. We just got each other. It was a true partnership full of trust and friendship on top of everything else that our relationship fostered. It almost seemed too perfect. 
Dieter was flowing with ideas and more involved with planning the choreography than any of my past partners had ever been. I loved seeing his face light up when he had an idea and his excitement when he shared it. It made the process so much more enjoyable and made me feel closer to him somehow. His openness felt like a testament to his trust in me which I knew was a big deal for him. 
We managed to plan out the majority of the routine before our studio time was up. We left feeling good about where we were. As provocative as the routine was, we did somehow manage to behave ourselves and keep it professional. That didn’t stop the heated glances from passing between us or the occasional lingering touches though. 
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By the time I was in the car and following Dieter to his house, I was feeling fairly worked up. The anticipation of having some alone time with him had butterflies forming in my stomach and wetness between my thighs. I couldn’t help wondering how the evening would go as we pulled into his driveway. 
He wasted no time pulling me in for a passionate kiss after I stepped out of the car - one hand on my cheek as the other wrapped around my waist and pulled me against him. 
He broke away with a relieved sigh and smiled, “I’ve been dying to do that all day.” 
I chuckled at his enthusiasm as he turned and pulled me toward the door, never releasing his hold around my waist as he keyed into the house. The moment the door opened, we were greeted by Zee. Only then did he let go of me to bend down and pick her up.
Zee nuzzled her face against his beard as he cradled her to his chest, murmuring a quiet, “Hey baby girl, I’ve missed you today” into her fur as she began to purr. It made my heart melt to watch him with her. I never would have guessed that Dieter Bravo was capable of being this tender and sweet before getting to know him. 
After snuggling her for a beat, he turned to me with a dimpled smile as he approached. Zee was now lazily leaning her head in my direction, letting out a soft meow as she gave me a slow blink. I didn’t hesitate to reach and scratch behind her ears. She stretched out on her back in his arms, reaching to place her paw on my face. 
Dieter chuckled and stepped closer so she could rub her face against my chin as my hand stroked the long silky fur on her chest. There wasn’t a mat in sight. I smiled, “Looks like somebody is taking their cat grooming responsibilities seriously.” 
Dieter's cheeks flushed as he shrugged, “Yeah…she likes it…and I’ve read it’s a good bonding activity. So, I don’t deny her when she wants her hair brushed.” 
I snickered, “She’s got you wrapped around her little paw.��� 
He sighed slowly pulling Zee away and setting her down, “Yeah, it seems I’m a sucker when it comes to my two favorite ladies…Come on. I’ll get dinner started.” 
He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the kitchen, “Hopefully Cora remembered to put the chicken in the marinade before she left. If not, we may have a problem.” 
My brows knitted together, “Who’s Cora?” 
He smiled, “She’s my housekeeper…a little spitfire of a lady. I think you’ll love her. I need to introduce you.” 
I nodded, noticing the affectionate smile on his face as he talked about Cora. It made me curious about her, but I didn’t question him further. 
I watched him rummage through the refrigerator before pulling out ingredients, including the marinated chicken. He got to work, refusing to let me help. When I tried, he leaned down and lifted me by my thighs and planted me on top of the island. After a quick peck on the lips, he told me not to move. My only job was to “watch the master at work.”
Zee soon joined me on the island, swishing her tail as she paced back and forth, attempting to lay eyes on what her dad was cooking. She shocked me by jumping across the distance between the island and Dieter’s back, landing on his shoulder with a loud meow as he laid out the chicken in a baking dish. He didn’t even flinch. 
I snickered, “Based on your lack of a reaction, I take it this isn’t the first time she’s done that.”
He laughed and shook his head, “Nope. She’s a nosey little shit and thinks any sort of protein is for her. Especially chicken.” 
Zee watched intently over his shoulder as he worked. She stayed perched there as he moved to the sink to wash his hands. Afterwards, he leaned down, allowing her to jump down onto the counter so he could put the chicken in the oven. 
He turned toward me, moving to stand between my thighs as he rested his palms on the counter at my hips. His nose nudged against mine as he asked in a low voice that gave me goosebumps, “Would you rather have garlic and herb roasted potatoes or rice and cooked vegetables with your Greek Lemon Chicken?” 
I smiled against his lips, “You’re making me Greek Lemon Chicken?” 
He nodded, “I am…What can I say? I love spoiling my girls.”
My stomach felt topsy-turvy at his words. Hearing him say the word love in relation to me in any way had me feeling some kind of way. As he leaned in to kiss me, I felt tingly all over, realizing that I might actually be falling for him…hard. I had to beat back the small wave of panic I suddenly felt. 
He pulled away with a playful smile, “Hopefully it doesn’t taste like shit. I’ve never made it before.” 
I laughed nervously as a new wave of emotions hit me once I realized he was learning to cook Greek food for me.
“You’re trying Greek recipes for me, are ya?” I asked teasingly in an attempt to distract myself.
He nodded, “I am. Just doing what I can to keep ya around…for Zee’s sake, of course. She needs a woman in her life.” 
I smiled even though my mind was racing with the implications of what he was saying. Was he feeling this as deeply as I was? 
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s all for her,” I finally said with a chuckle. 
He shook his head, smiling as he leaned in for another soft kiss before adding, “You’re right. It’s not. I’m one hundred percent whipped by you both.” 
He paused, huffing out a laugh as he threaded his fingers through my hair and briefly allowed his eyes to roam over my face. After inhaling deeply, he asked, “Now, what does my other girl want to eat with her chicken?” 
I took a moment to get lost in his chocolate colored eyes, taking in the crinkles around the edges from the small smile on his lips. I loved it when his eyes crinkled like that. That’s how I knew his smile was genuine. 
“I think I’ll take the rice and veggies.” 
His hands moved to my hips, squeezing gently as he gave me a quick peck on the forehead. He pulled away with a smile, “As you wish…Now, watch the culinary king create a masterpiece for your tastebuds.”
He got to work, chopping the veggies. Zee came over to inspect, seeming intrigued by the spread, but ultimately decided it wasn’t for her and went to entertain herself with a fake mouse toy on the floor. 
Even though Dieter was occupied with his cooking duties, that didn’t make him any less attentive toward me. Conversation flowed and he made sure to continue his light touches and shared the occasional kiss as he moved around the kitchen. It was strangely romantic and intimate in a new way for me. I could see myself spending every evening like this with him. The fact that my mind was even going there scared me, worried that I was getting in too deep too fast. I somehow managed to bury that thought in the back of my mind each time he looked at me with his soft eyes and boyish smile.
Once the chicken was done, Zee turned into a little terrorist determined to get her share. I lost track of the number of times Dieter had to shoo her away while it was cooling. I couldn’t help laughing as those two had a near standoff over the cooked poultry. Because of Zee’s insistence, Dieter suggested that we eat on the patio since it had been such a nice day. That way we wouldn't have to deal with her “bratty” behavior. I agreed with a chuckle. 
To keep her distracted, he made her dinner. She ate quietly in the corner as we made our plates and gathered everything we needed to move to the patio. Dieter made sure to hide the chicken away in the oven before we finally sat down to eat. 
The meal was amazing of course and I made sure to tell him as much. He acted smug over the complement, but that didn’t stop his cheeks from flushing a little. We were both relaxed, discussing the most random topics and getting to know each other just a little bit more. It was nice to be with him like this for a change - to hear his laughter and see him truly happy. 
After eating, Dieter insisted that I go relax while he cleaned up. He refused to have any other outcome. So, I made my way over to one of the loungers next to the fire pit and settled in. Dieter joined me a few minutes later, switching on the fire pit before reclining in the lounger beside me. He made a pouty face as he stuck out his arms, motioning for me to come sit with him. I chuckled as I stood, moving to sit between his spread thighs as he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me against his chest. He nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck, causing me to giggle from where his scruff tickled the sensitive skin. 
We sat like that for a time, just listening to the waves of the ocean and enjoying being in each other's embrace. It felt so easy with him. Almost too easy, which was a little concerning if I dwelled on it. I pushed that thought away, twisting so that I could look up at him. He gave me a soft smile, his eyes crinkling as he looked down at me and reached to cup my cheek. 
“I’ve missed being able to do this the last few days,” he finally said. 
I smirked, closing the distance between us and sucking on his bottom lip. He deepened the kiss as I shifted in his arms, moving to straddle his hips as he set up straighter and pulled me against him. Just as I felt him growing hard under me, he pulled away, brushing the hair back out of my face as he peered up at me. His eyes danced around my face with a sort of serene expression. 
“I don’t know that I’ve properly told you how fucking beautiful you are.” 
I gave him a dismissive laugh as my cheeks burned under his palms. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to mine, “Stay with me tonight, please?” 
His voice was almost pleading as he asked. Something about the way he sounded tugged at my heart a bit. I smiled against his lips as I dipped my hands under the hem of his shirt to explore his chest. 
“I had already planned on it,” I replied before kissing him again. He didn’t deepen it. Instead, he pulled away and nuzzled his face into my chest as he hugged me just a little tighter, “Don’t get any ideas…I just wanna cuddle. No funny business.” 
Something about his tone told me he wasn’t trying to be funny. He sounded serious, but I wasn’t sure. I scoffed jokingly, “How presumptuous of you.” 
He was quiet for a beat, breathing me in. He finally pulled away with a smirk, “I’m just teasing. I do mean it though, I don’t wanna do anything tonight. I just wanna be with you.” 
I gave him a confused look. Can’t say I’ve ever heard a guy say that before. He seemed unsure of himself suddenly, averting his gaze. I reached for his chin and tilted it toward me. “What’s this about?” I asked in a gentle tone. Something was obviously on his mind. 
He sighed, “You’re probably gonna think I’m nuts…but…I don’t want this thing between us to just be about sex. I wanna spend time with you…get to know you…connect in other ways. You know what I mean? You’re too important to me for it to turn into that. I’m still learning how to do this relationship thing and I wanna do it right.” 
I stared at him, a little dumbfounded and turned on by the fact that he didn’t want to have sex. What the hell is wrong with me? 
He grimaced, “Please say something.” 
I huffed out a laugh, “I…I’m trying really hard not to be turned on by this.” 
He chuckled, “That wasn’t my goal, but I’ll take it as a positive response.” 
I reached to run my fingers through his hair as I smiled over his smug look, “What planet did you come from?” 
He laughed and shrugged, pulling me back against him, his ear to my chest as my fingers scratched at his scalp. He hummed at the feeling, leaning into me much like a needy puppy does when you scratch just the right spot. 
Dieter was true to his word, not taking it any further even though I could tell parts of him wanted to. Instead, I ended up stretching out against him, cuddling as we watched the sunset and talked about the most random topics. There was lots of laughter, gentle kisses, and caresses throughout. It was refreshing. I couldn’t recall the last time Alec and I had spent time together like that, or if we ever really had. He was always so guarded about everything, which often left a lingering tension in the air between us. It never felt like that with Dieter. He had a way of making me feel at ease and content. He was always smiling and had such a playful and positive energy, it was hard not to match it. 
As the hour grew late, we finally made our way inside. I watched as Dieter moved through the downstairs to lock up and turn everything off. His last step of his nightly routine was to give Zee a snack of boiled chicken. I watched as she jumped up on the island and patiently waited for him to pull it out of the refrigerator. The ‘Queen Zee’s Fucking Chicken’ label on the bowl caught my attention and made me snort in laughter as Dieter shredded small pieces and handed them over to her. When I asked what that was about, he shrugged and laughed, “Evan made that. Said something about her screaming at him over it. They’re both so dramatic, there’s no telling what actually went down.” 
After he washed his hands, he walked over to stand in front of me, placing his hands on my hips as he pulled me against him with a mischievous glint in his eye. “You ready to go to bed?” 
I quirked an eyebrow at him, feeling like he was up to something. “I need to run out to the car to get my bag.” 
He pursed his lips, “Ehh, I’ll go get it for you in the morning.”
I smirked, “But what will I sleep in?” 
He fought a smile, “You can raid my closet…or wear nothing. I’m not picky.” 
I gave him an admonishing look, “I thought we were behaving?” 
He shrugged as a wide grin formed on his face, “We are. Skin to skin cuddling for adults is a very healthy thing to do. It lowers cortisol levels and releases oxytocin. I fully support naked cuddling as a form of bonding.”
I chuckled, “You’re such a nerd, which is pleasantly surprising…and kind of a turn on…” 
He laughed loudly, “Is there anything that isn’t a turn on for you today?”
I leaned in, smiling against his lips before answering, “Apparently not…” 
After giving me a quick kiss, without warning, he leaned down and hoisted me over his shoulder like a fucking caveman. I squealed as he laughed maniacally and made his way up the stairs, grabbing a generous handful of my ass as he went. Once in his room, he sat me down, still laughing as I playfully pushed him away from me. 
I turned to survey the room for the first time. It was the only room I hadn’t seen when he previously gave me a tour of his place. I wasn’t sure what I expected. It was similar to the rest of the house, clean with cream colored walls and bedding accented with deep earth tones. He had a few plants sitting around, my eyes automatically focusing in on the obnoxious penis cactus on one of his nightstands. I laughed and shook my head as I pointed at it, “Aren’t you worried about grabbing that thing by mistake when you’re half asleep?”
He chuckled, “No, I don’t usually put anything on that side of the bed…buuut since you’re here…I’ll move it…can’t have you gettin’ confused and grabbing the wrong erection.” 
I cackled as I watched him move it from the nightstand to the dresser. I couldn’t help it. He had such a naughty sense of humor, and I loved it. Once he had it situated in just the right spot, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward one of the other doors, which opened up to a massive bathroom. I couldn’t help admiring the tub. It looked heavenly. He followed my line of sight and chuckled, “I told you I had a hydrotherapy tub.”
“Well, it would be less weird if I took advantage of that now…obviously.” 
I could hear him snicker as he rummaged around in the linen closet, then pulled out a new toothbrush and handed it to me. 
I gave him a deadpan stare, “You tryin’ to tell me something?”
He laughed, “No! I just know you’re routine and I have extras.” 
He pulled the toothpaste out of a drawer, put a dab on his brush then stuck it in his mouth. He passed the tube to me once I got the toothbrush out of the packaging. I watched him dig around in another drawer and pull out a hairbrush. It sort of shocked me when he moved to stand at my back and began running it through my hair, completely neglecting the toothbrush that was hanging from his mouth. After sitting the hairbrush down, his fingers got to work, struggling a bit at first, but eventually working the strands into a simple braid. Once he got to the bottom, he reached for my wrist with his free hand and pulled the hair tie off it to twist around the end of the braid. I watched in the mirror as he stood back and rather smugly admired his handy work as he began to brush his teeth. 
After spitting some of the toothpaste out, I turned to him, “Are you trying to ruin me for all other men, Bravo? 
He smirked, “No, not intentionally…but is it working?”
“The jury is still out on that…” 
Once we finished brushing our teeth, I followed him into his closet, which was just as ridiculous as his bathroom. 
“Fucking hell, this is bigger than my bedroom,” I said as I looked around. “Why do you need such a big closet? It’s not even one third of the way full,” I asked with a disbelieving laugh. 
He shrugged, “I don’t, it just came with the house.” He pursed his lips in thought and gave me an odd look before adding, “Room to grow I guess.” 
I felt like he was insinuating something, but I wasn’t sure. Instead, I rolled my eyes as I walked over to the stacks of folded t-shirts on a shelf. I could feel his eyes on me as I flipped through them, smiling over some of the funnier ones. Keeping my back to him, I reached for the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. I could hear his breath hitch as I reached back to unhook my bra and allowed it to fall to the floor. I then slid my leggings down, standing there in nothing but my black underwear as I plucked one of his t-shirts from the stack and put it on. 
When I turned toward him, he was standing there staring at me with his arms crossed and an amused expression on his face. I held my hands out with palms up, “Well, whatta ya think? Fits perfectly, no?”
He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at me, hesitating before allowing his eyes to sweep down my body. He reached up and scratched at his chin, “Fucking is my cardio…really? That’s the one you went for?” 
I laughed, looking down at the shirt, “I think maybe we need to update it…cross out ‘fucking’ and write in ‘dancing’ above it?”
He shook his head as he slowly walked toward me. His voice low, almost teasing, “Oh no, fucking is definitely still part of my cardio routine…though I don’t believe I’ve fucked you properly yet. I’ve taken a more…sensual approach so far…which I’ve found I actually kind of prefer.” 
Our eyes were locked as he reached to cup my cheek, “Somehow you’ve managed to bring out that side of me for the first time ever…and I’m enjoying it more than I thought I could.”
His intense gaze, sultry tone, and sudden vulnerability had me involuntarily clenching my thighs together. The effect he had on my body was insane. I no longer had any control over it. 
“Are you trying to test my limits right now? Because if you are, I’m very close to failing…” 
He laughed as he leaned in to give me a chaste kiss, “Come on honey, let's get you in bed.”
I groaned in protest as he tugged me along behind him toward the bed. After pulling the covers back, he motioned for me to climb in, smacking my ass as I did so - which definitely didn’t do anything to help my current state of arousal. I settled in on my back as he stripped down to his boxer briefs, then turned off the light. After climbing into bed beside me, he tangled his legs with mine. His hand sought out the hem of his t-shirt that I was wearing, snaking up under it to rest around my middle after he pulled me closer to his chest. He nestled his face into the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply then sighing in contentment. 
Moments later, the foot of the bed dipped as Zee jumped up onto it. Dieter sucked air through his teeth, “Oooh shit. We may have a problem here…” 
I chuckled, “Why’s that?”
“You’re in her spot…”
“Oh, that is problematic…”
Zee made her way up the bed, then sat beside me as her tail whipped back and forth. I could feel her eyes on us as she surveyed the current sleeping arrangements. She let out a loud meow as I reached to pet her, hoping to keep peace. I felt Dieter suck in a deep breath and hold it while he waited to see how she would respond. She was still as a statue until I found just the right spot behind her ear. She leaned into the scratches as her eyes drifted shut. She seemed satisfied with my offering, finally moving to snuggle into the crook of my arm opposite Dieter. 
Dieter huffed out a relieved laugh against my neck, “That was nerve wracking. I thought she was about to battle it out with you.” 
I snickered, “Honestly, I thought so too. Good thing I'm comfortable because it doesn't look like I’m moving anytime soon…”
I felt his rumbling laugh against my neck as he shifted, leaning up to give me a chaste kiss goodnight. It wasn’t long before he was asleep, his mouth opened slightly as he snored quietly. Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, I could just make out his features from the moonlight streaming in through the windows. His face looked almost childlike as the creases between his brows relaxed and disappeared. His messy curls hung down over his face, adding to the effect. I found myself wondering what he looked like when he was little, wondering if his aquiline nose had the same pronounced curve or if it developed that way over time. He really was beautiful, even with his patchy beard that never seemed to fully grow and slightly graying hair. 
I took some time reflecting on the last several days. Dieter had been so attentive toward me, making sure that I was taken care of and always checking in about my feelings. He had also shown me his vulnerable side several times. I couldn’t believe that he was open about his fears with SNL, admitting how nervous he was the night of the performance. That was something Alec never would have done out of fear that he would look weak. This didn’t make Dieter seem weak to me though. If anything, it showed me how emotionally mature he was and his willingness to be open with me. He really surprised me with that. 
Then there were the moments in his dressing room before the show when it was just us, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Not being afraid to be ourselves out of fear of judgment. He was so unapologetically himself with me and I loved that about him. I loved that he trusted me enough to show his soft and goofy side. He appeared to be welcoming me into his life with open arms and holding nothing back.
I couldn’t help letting my mind wander to all of his past relationships, if that was even the right word. Maybe the term ‘hookups’ was more appropriate? I thought of that actress, Sophie, whatever her name was. A petite redhead with big breasts and a tiny waist. It was hard not to compare myself to her. We were completely different physically. Dieter had said that he wasn’t interested in her, but he had obviously been attracted to something about her at one point. 
I wondered if maybe she was adventurous in bed, if that was the kind of thing he was into? I had never really been like that with anyone, which did worry me some. I couldn’t help thinking that he might eventually get bored with me because I clearly wasn’t like any of these people we had encountered that he had a history with. It didn’t mean that I couldn’t be that way though. There was something about him that made me want to try.
Dieter had a way of making me feel brazen. I could tell he liked it when I was like that, open about how my body reacted to him while teasing his. I enjoyed getting a rise out of him, which only emboldened me further. Maybe that’s all I really needed to hold his attention? To show him that he was wanted.  
It wasn’t like it was hard for me to show how much I wanted him when he does the things that he does. Things like standing there on a nationally televised stage in his ridiculous ‘Plant Daddy’ t-shirt that I had bought for him that happened to fit just perfectly across his chest and snugly around his broad shoulders and sculpted arms as he asked me if I wanted to have sex with him. He was completely unconcerned that we were surrounded by dozens of people, mics, and cameras. Not to mention how he changed up that line in his monologue. He liked to push the limits too and he did it because he knew it got a rise out of me. 
All of the teasing between us had turned into a mind-blowing evening once we got back to the hotel. He didn’t hesitate to let me take charge or to be open with me about his desires. There was no guessing with him, he was willing to show me what he liked while also allowing me to try my own thing without making me feel like I was doing something wrong. We worked together, exploring and learning each other's bodies and discovering new things about ourselves in the process. 
Watching Dieter come undone beneath me felt empowering. It actually helped my confidence where it had been so brutally damaged by Alec, often making me feel like our less than satisfying sex life was my fault. Dieter helped me realize it wasn’t and allowed me to find that side of myself again. Seeing him writhing in pleasure because of me, watching his eyes dilate and blow wide as he took in my naked body, it unleashed something in me. Knowing that there was no way he could possibly fake the reaction his body was having to me as he gasped for air through clenched teeth and completely lost his senses should have been enough to calm the unsettling feeling that was suddenly creeping into my gut. It should have been enough to silence my doubts. 
I reasoned with myself that any doubt I was having was because of Alec and the emotional damage he had caused. Dieter was not Alec. He was nothing like him. He made that perfectly clear when he found the vibrator then proceeded to use it as we had sex the following morning. He took his time, asking and learning how I liked it. Then blew my fucking mind. Again, showing me how attentive he was and making sure we both enjoyed the experience. Not at all selfish like Alec. 
It wasn’t even really about the sex or the mind blowing orgasms he somehow managed to draw out of me. It went deeper than that. Through all of it, I could feel an emotional connection with him. It was strong enough that it made my heart feel like it was beating out of my chest. He was already bonding with me in ways that Alec never even tried to. If nothing else settled my doubts, then that should. He told me this meant something to him, and I knew he believed in what he said. 
I also had to consider how protective Dieter had been, even before the dressing room incident. Going so far as to make sure my locks got changed so Alec couldn’t get into the house. He had also put himself between me and the paparazzi at the airport, essentially putting himself in the line of fire. He didn’t have to do any of that. It was obvious he cared about me, and I had no reason to doubt what we were building.  
I now knew I was falling hard and fast for him, and it scared the hell out of me. I couldn’t help being worried about being hurt again, especially after what I had just gone through with Alec. I knew if something went wrong with Dieter, it was going to hurt ten times worse because things had been going so well between us. I knew I needed to stop thinking this way because I had no reason to. I was getting into my head about it. He cared about me and was putting in the work to prove it. That was enough.  
As I glanced back down at his perfectly handsome face, my doubts vanished. He was here with me now, in his bed after asking me to stay. He’s allowing me into parts of his life no one else has been before. He wants me to be part of it. 
Those were my last thoughts as I finally drifted off to sleep. 
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Dieter’s POV
On Wednesday morning I awoke to the feeling of Kat’s fingertips drawing circles on my bare skin. I could feel my heartbeat speed up under her touch, relishing in how amazing it felt to wake up to her wrapped around me in my bed. She was laying with her head against my chest and one leg hitched over mine. Zee had somehow managed to worm her way in between my spread legs and was sprawled out on her back, snoring softly. 
I laid there unmoving as I took in the sight before me so that I could commit it to memory. I couldn’t remember ever waking up feeling as complete and happy as I did in that moment. It was something that I had longed for and didn’t even think possible. I felt like my life was finally beginning to turn into what I had always wanted. If this was going to be my new normal, I knew I could die a happy man. 
Kat surprised me with a sleepy “good morning” as she continued to draw circles along my stomach. 
I smiled, “How’d you know I was awake?”
She shifted, propping her chin on her hand to look at me with a smile, “You’re breathing changed…and I could hear your heart rate pick up.”
I chuckled as I reached to push away the loose strands of hair from her face. “I like waking up to you in my bed more than I realized I would,” I confessed. 
She smiled as she leaned into my touch, “I liked waking up in your bed more than I realized I would, too.” 
I sighed, “I can’t wait until we have a day off so we can stay here all day.”
“Hmmm that does sound amazing. Sign me up.” 
I glanced over at the clock, realizing the alarm would be going off soon.
“Hows about I go make you a quick breakfast before you go to rehearsal?” I asked. 
She groaned, “Ugh, I don’t wanna go. The whole cast is probably gonna be all weird and judgy now.” 
My lips set into a tight line, “Is Alec supposed to be there?”
She shook her head, “No, I don’t think so. According to the schedule they sent over they have the two groups rehearsing at different times.” 
“Well, that’s a relief. Doesn’t mean he won’t be lurking around though. Just please be careful. I still don’t trust that asshole.”
She smiled, “Don’t worry, Marc will be there. I’m sure he’ll keep an eye on me.”
I nodded, feigning a stern look, “He better.”
She laughed, “He will…don’t worry.” 
I watched as her eyes explored my face before she asked, “So, what do you have planned this morning?” 
I grimaced, “Well, I have an appointment with my therapist for what I’m sure will be a very interesting session. Her head may explode…” 
“Ooof. Are you gonna tell her about us?”
My hand found the hem of the t-shirt she was still wearing and pulled it upwards so that I could run my fingers along her spine as I took a moment to think about it. 
“Well, I know she’s gonna ask how New York went. She’s been very curious about our relationship from the beginning…” 
Kat smirked, “Oh really? And why’s that?” 
I chewed on my lip as heat crept into my cheeks. Oh well, no sense in hiding it now. 
“Aside from the fact that I was actually building a friendship with someone new, I think she could sense that I was attracted to you. I did eventually fess up to it in one of our more recent sessions.”
Her smile widened, “You’ve been talking to your therapist about me this whole time?”
I swallowed thickly and nodded, “Yes. Does that bother you?”
She shook her head, “No…not at all. What does she say about me?”
I chuckled, “I’m pretty sure she’s a closet Deiterina Stan…”
Kat laughed loudly at that. I knew it would get her. 
Once she settled, I continued, “I’m only half joking. She’s…actually been very positive and supportive of our friendship and encouraged me to tell you how I was feeling once I realized it. She thinks you’re a positive influence and good for me. I tend to agree with that assessment.” 
Her brows furrowed as her eyes turned glassy. She pulled herself upwards to lean in closer for a needy kiss. I deepened it before she pulled away, slightly breathless as she smiled down at me. 
“I’m actually happy she feels that way. I was a bit worried she would think it’s too soon for you to pursue anything.” 
I hugged her tighter against me, “Na, I’m in a good place. Really. I’m nearly ten months sober. She’s been happy with my progress. Especially since I started the show…it’s kept me busy and gave me a little more purpose…and you.” 
She smiled, leaning in for another kiss just as my alarm went off. That was Zee’s cue to get up, stretching her legs outward as she made her way up the bed to greet us while I turned to shut the alarm off. After a few minutes of kitty snuggles, we finally got out of bed. I ran to Kat’s car to get her bag out so she could get ready for the professionals morning rehearsal while I made us a quick breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast. I was rinsing a small bowl of fruit off when she walked into the kitchen with a smile, coming up behind me to wrap her arms around my waist and giving me a peck on the cheek. 
“Need help with anything?” she asked as she rested her chin against my shoulder. 
I shook my head as I shut the water off, “Nope, just finishing up actually.” 
When I turned around, I found Zee stealthily inching down the counter toward the plate of bacon. I sighed, shooing her away while muttering about her being nothing but a pain in the ass as Kat laughed. I then realized Kat was still wearing my ‘Fucking is my cardio’ t-shirt, only she had tied it into a knot in the back and added some leggings to go with it. Something about the thought of her wearing my clothes in public made my dick twitch. 
I gave her a flirty smirk, “You’re here one night and you’re already stealing my clothes and wearing them in public.”
She shrugged, “You’ll get over it. Besides, if they want to stare and gossip during rehearsals, might as well give them something to look at. Maybe Someone will tell Alec that I suddenly have a proclivity for fucking.”
I snorted out a laugh. That certainly wasn’t the response I was expecting, but I fucking loved it. 
“This might be a sign you’re spending too much time with me…but I’m not complaining. I also like the thought of you being in my clothes when I’m not around. It’s kind of sexy…” 
She gave me a sly smile, “Good. You can think about that while you’re telling your therapist how I rode you senseless when we were in New York.” 
I nearly choked on my own spit as she turned to pile food on her plate with the devious grin still on her face.
“You’ve definitely been spending too much time with me, but I like it,” I finally said through a laugh, suddenly feeling incredibly turned on by her dirty sense of humor. I gave her a grabby pat on the ass before turning my attention to breakfast. We ate quickly and in silence because Kat needed to get to the dance studio. After a rather passionate goodbye kiss and ear scratches for Zee, she was on her way with a promise to see me for our evening rehearsal. 
I couldn’t stop smiling over how our morning had gone as I got ready for and drove to my therapy session. I really hoped this would be our new normal because it was everything. If every day started this way there’s no way I would ever go back to my dark place. 
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Dr. Smith seemed to sense my good mood as soon as I sat down across from her. She gave me a genuine smile as she asked how I was feeling today. 
I had to work hard to wipe the goofy grin off my face as I responded, “I’m…good today.”
Her eyes scanned over me, briefly stopping on my clasped hands in my lap. My hands were still, but my thumbs were going to war with each other as I struggled to find something to do with my excess energy. 
She narrowed her eyes slightly as they finally met mine. Her head tilted to the side, “So, how did New York go?”
Fuck. Am I that transparent? She totally knows. I laughed nervously, “I mean, it went…good. SNL went really well. I seem to be back on good terms with the cast. They wanna have me back sometime, so that’s exciting…It was a lot of work with all the rehearsals for both shows, but we survived it.” 
She pursed her lips, tilting her head the opposite direction as she studied me. “How did things go with Kat?” 
And there it is. Getting right to it. “Ummm, good. It was nice to get away from all the drama that LA brings with it. We had a good time.” 
She smiled, “Good again, huh? Everything is just…good?”
I grimaced, now scratching at my beard as I thought how best to respond. She didn’t give me the chance. 
“I saw the open mic videos that are circulating online. You wanna tell me about those?”
Fuck fuck fuck. I shrugged, “Well…there’s not much to tell. We went out with the SNL cast and got roped into doing it.” 
She nodded, “And your performance on Monday?”
I just stared at her. I didn’t know where she was going with this. I knew she was doing that thing where she talked me into a hole that I couldn’t dig myself out of. I shrugged as I gave her a hesitant smile, “What about it?”
She gave me a soft smile, “Dieter, I’m not blind. I can tell something has changed between you and Kat since I saw you last. Did you tell her how you were feeling?”
The pressure was getting to me. I sighed before blurting out in a rush, “Ok fine we had sex.” 
More word vomit. I didn’t have to tell her that part. Fucking hell Bravo. 
Her eyes widened as she leaned back in the chair, digesting what I had just said. 
“Ok, well, I wasn’t expecting that… I thought maybe you just had a conversation.”
I started squeezing and unsqueezing my hands into fists over and over, now feeling like I had done something wrong. It was one of my nervous ticks. She noticed it immediately. 
She held out her hand and placed it atop mine, “Please relax. I’m not upset with you. Just tell me what happened.” 
I puffed air out of my cheeks, “Well…the studio had us sharing a suite. So, we were together almost every second of the day while we were there. By the end of the week…there was just a crazy tension between us. She had ended things with Alec before we left, so I was feeling a little more confident about putting myself out there and I did. It was after the open mic thing…we were rehearsing our dance on the terrace of our suite. The tension had kind of reached a boiling point by then and she kissed me. It went on from there…I let her lead things.”
Her brows arched, “So she kissed you then you had sex?” 
I nodded, suddenly feeling I had maybe slipped into old habits and handled things with Kat all wrong.
“I made sure first you know…that she knew that it meant something to me. I told her and asked her if she was sure. We talked after and I stayed with her that night. It happened a couple more times before we came back to LA.”
Her brows furrowed. Yeah, this doesn’t sound good, Bravo. 
“Fuck…it was different with her, ok? We…ugh fuck.” I rubbed at the bridge of my nose. I was getting a headache. 
“We had a connection. It was…emotional and intimate…it wasn’t just sex.” 
She arched a brow at me to continue. 
I sighed, “We haven’t had sex since we’ve been back. She stayed with me last night and I told her I didn’t want to…that I didn’t want it to be about that. I swear, I’m trying really hard to do this the right way. I really do care about her. I just don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”   
Dr. Smith held a neutral expression, not giving me anything when she asked, “What did you do last night?”
The question took me by surprise, “Umm…well we had rehearsal most of the day. Then we went to my place, and I cooked dinner for her. We sat outside in a lounger by the fire pit after…talking and watching the sunset. Then we went to bed.” 
She narrowed her eyes, “So, you two slept in the same bed?”
I nodded, “Yeah, she slept with me and my cat.” 
“And you didn’t have sex?”
I shook my head, “No. Just cuddled.” 
Her eyebrow ticked upward slightly, “And what about this morning? How did things go? Any of the awkwardness you always worry about?”
I shook my head, “No. We spent a few minutes cuddling and talking about our day…then snuggled the cat. I made breakfast while she got ready… we ate…she kissed me and Zee goodbye then left for the studio.”
Dr. Smith chewed on the inside of her cheek, almost looking like she was fighting a smile. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. She was making me so fucking anxious. She leaned forward, placing an elbow on her knee, “How much have you told her about your feelings?” 
Again, not the question I expected. She was confusing the fuck out of me.
“I- umm…didn’t tell her exactly how I feel…only that I have feelings for her. I didn’t wanna throw the ‘L’ word out this soon and freak her out, ya know?” 
She nodded, “And how did you feel after she left this morning?” 
I looked down at my fisted hands in my lap. They relaxed some as that goofy uncontrollable grin slid across my face. 
“I felt…happy. I would give anything to have all my mornings be like that…and my nights. Being with her makes me feel…alive…and complete.” 
I was suddenly overcome with an overwhelming feeling that caused my eyes to prickle with the threat of tears. It was good tears though.
Dr. Smith smiled, “I think you’ve made more progress than you realize. It seems you’ve gotten your impulsive tendencies under control and I’m happy to see you’re working on your aversion to intimacy. All of this time that you’re spending with Kat talking, touching, learning…without involving sex…is the type of intimacy that you need and what you’ve been denying yourself of for so long. I’m proud of you for realizing that and following through with it. I can tell that having this kind of connection to someone is changing you for the better. You seem more confident and open about your feelings which can only aid you in creating a solid foundation with her.”
I was a little stunned at her praise. Any anxiety or doubts I had quickly dissipated.
She continued, “Given that, I do want to make sure you're expanding this growth to others in your life. I don’t want your happiness to depend on Kat. I want you to have happiness in the rest of your relationships too. Continue to build up your support system and bond with each of them.” 
I nodded, “I’ve been trying…not that I have a very big circle right now…but those relationships feel strong. It’s been nice having Evan back on board. We’ve patched things up pretty well I think.”
She nodded, “That’s good to hear. I’m happy that it's been working out so well with him.” 
She paused, seeming unsure about where she wanted to go next. She finally asked, “I assume you and Kat are keeping your relationship to yourselves?” 
I nodded, “Yeah…because of Alec.”
“How have things been with him since you guys got back from New York?” 
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, “Uhh…not good. We had…another confrontation on Monday after the show.” 
Her brows furrowed, “What kind of confrontation?” 
I sighed, “He was waiting for Kat in her dressing room and attacked her…One of the other couples came to get me after they saw him. When I finally got in, he was choking her. I shoved him off her…”
I really didn’t want to get into the rest of it because I knew where this conversation was going.
“What happened after that?” Dr. Smith prodded.
I puffed air out of my cheeks knowing she wasn’t going to let it go. My hands fisted in my lap again. I could feel my fingernails digging into the palms of my hands. 
“I uhhh, I pinned him on the floor and hit him a few times…then tried to strangle him…I think. I’m not really sure what I was doing or thinking…I kind of blacked out in a blind rage when I saw what he was doing to Kat.” 
Her lips set into a tight line, “What stopped you?” 
I stared at my clenched fists, “One of the other dancers pulled me off him.”
“Did Kat go to the police?” 
I shook my head, “No. She was worried the police report would get out to the media. She’s not wrong, it probably would’ve. She said I scared the shit out of him…so she doesn’t think he’ll try anything like that again.” 
Dr. Smith gave me an empathetic look, “That’s never happened with you before, has it?”
I shook my head, “I mean, I went off on my dad a few times…but that’s it. I’m not a violent person.” 
She nodded, “I know you’re not…which is why I’m concerned about how that incident affected you. Did it trigger any type of trauma response?” 
I can’t fucking do this. “Can we just not go there today? I’m having a good day. I don’t wanna ruin it…”
She nodded, “Yeah, we can save it for next week if you want. So long as it’s not triggering anything.” 
I shook my head, “No, not actively.” 
“Ok. Next week then.” 
We didn’t have much time left after that. We spent the last few minutes catching up on everything that happened in New York then called it a day. As I walked to the car, I chose to focus on the positive parts of that session, because I knew dwelling on the stuff about my past would sour my good mood quickly. 
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Just as I arrived back at the house, my phone lit up with a call from my agent, Lenny. 
“Hey Lenny, what’s up?” I asked as I answered. 
There was a brief moment of crackling static on the other end, “Hey D, I just wanted to check in and see how things are going?” 
“Everything’s fine, why?” These “check in” calls always put me on edge. They usually meant I was about to be in trouble over something. 
“No reason. I just wanted to catch up and let you know that we’ve gotten a lot of positive feedback about SNL. It’s definitely catching people’s attention. So is the feedback from the cast. They’re singing your praises.” 
I couldn’t fight my smile. It made me feel good to hear something positive in relation to my work for once. 
“That’s actually nice to hear. I had a lot of fun working with them this time around. They kept me very involved with every step. I really enjoyed it.” 
“I really think this is the beginning of things turning around for your career. We just gotta keep that positive buzz going, ya know? You’ve been doing really well, and I think this helped people see that. You were really on top of your game Saturday. The fans are loving the dancing stuff too by the way. Pairing you with Kat has worked out well.”  
My smile widened as I rubbed the back of my neck, “Yeah, Kat’s been great. I love working with her. I’m glad you talked me into doing the show…it’s been a lot of fun.” 
Lenny cleared his throat nervously, “Speaking of Kat…I saw those videos of you two singing together…” 
My brows furrowed. I wasn’t sure where this was going.
“OooK? And?” I asked. 
“Well, the agency has noticed that those videos are getting a lot of attention…do you think she would be open to doing more stuff like that? For publicity?” 
I sighed, frustrated by the turn in conversation. “I’m not gonna use Kat for publicity for my career.”
Lenny chuckled, “Aren’t you kind of doing that already?” 
I got out of my car and began pacing the driveway, “The only thing I want her involved in is publicity for the show that we are working on together. I won’t ask her for more than that…or trick her into doing anything more than that. I’m not gonna take advantage of her in that way.” 
Lenny sighed, “Fine…OK. I get it. It doesn’t have to be with her though. Maybe you could do some Instagram Lives again and sing a little. The fans would eat that shit up.” 
I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, I dunno about that, Len. I would feel awkward.” 
Lenny huffed into the phone, “D, you used to do them all the time. What’s the big deal?” 
I paused my pacing and ran my hand down my face, “The big deal is that I was usually cracked out of my mind and acting like a fool. I didn’t give two shits about how it looked or what people thought about my psychotic rants or partying. I’m not that guy anymore.” 
“That’s exactly WHY you should do it. Show the world the NEW Dieter Bravo. If it’s what the fans want, give it to them.” 
I sighed, “So you want me to do Lives and sing? Seriously?” 
“Fuck yes. Sing, play your guitar…hell, I’d settle for watching you re-pot a plant…get creative like I know you can be. We need to start getting you out there more. Your fan base is growing like crazy thanks to the ballroom dance shit, so we need to take advantage of that and keep them hooked.” 
This was making me anxious. I needed to end the conversation. “I’ll think about it, OK? I dunno how I feel about it.” 
Lenny sighed, “Fine, think about it…but just do it. And if Kat happens to be involved in any way, the agency will not complain…just so you know.” 
I scoffed, “Fuck off with that. I told you, I’m not using her for that shit.” 
Lenny chuckled, “OK… fine, fine. Look, I’ve gotta go to a meeting. I’ll check back in with you in a few days.” 
I rolled my eyes again, “Yeah, you go do that. Talk soon. Bye.” 
I didn’t give him a chance to respond before I hung up. I was beyond annoyed with him after that conversation. I shook my head as I walked inside, deciding not to give the topic any more thought. 
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Kat and I had our late rehearsal that afternoon. She brought in some props for us to use like we planned so that it would be a little more authentic and not just us pretending to remove pieces of clothing and dancing around non-existent furniture throughout the routine, because yes, we were totally going there. This performance was definitely going to push some boundaries, and we were one hundred percent rolling with it because why the fuck not? 
Once we were done for the day, Kat came back to my place. We had leftovers for dinner then spent the rest of our time cuddling and talking. Our evening went basically the same as the previous one. We seemed to be settling into a routine of sorts. I loved getting to know her like this, laughing with her, and watching her with Zee. I couldn’t have asked for anyone more perfect for me if I tried. 
Thursday was filming day. We of course had to watch ourselves, especially with the sexiness of this week’s dance. I tried to keep things light with jokes and just making a general ass of myself. My nonsense started when Kat left the room for a quick bathroom break. I put on the long flowy wrap skirt with a Velcro closure that she was using to rehearse in. When she returned, she was greeted by me swishing around the room. I briefly paused, giving her a dainty curtsy complete with a raised pinky, which caused her to wheeze in laughter. The rehearsal was nothing but fits of giggles after that, especially when I struggled through some of the more complicated lift combos and when we tripped over each other’s feet during the intertwining leg moves that Kat had us doing. Even the film crew was having a hard time keeping it together. I could only hope it came across as two friends having fun and struggling to be serious with a sexy dance rather than two people who were in a secret relationship and doing far more intimate things in their spare time. 
Kat came home with me again that night. I encouraged her to relax on the couch as I made dinner for us. Zee joined her, stretching out for belly rubs while she waited to be fed too. Kat hadn’t said anything, but I could tell she wasn’t feeling that well. I couldn’t help worrying that the long hours of dancing were getting to her. I needed to do better about making sure she was taking care of herself. I didn’t want her to neglect her self-care because she was spending too much time with me. Even if that meant I had to take care of her myself. 
After she crawled into bed that night, I took a few minutes to do just that. I started with a foot massage, taking special care to avoid that certain spot that I knew would get her worked up. It wasn’t about that tonight. I just wanted her to relax and find some relief for her aching joints. I eventually moved up to her calf and worked my way up from there before switching to the other leg. 
She watched me intently for a time. Eventually settling back into the pillows and humming to herself as she closed her eyes. As my hand slid up to the upper half of her leg and began to massage there, the slight pressing together of her thighs didn’t go unnoticed. I chuckled quietly as my fingertips kneaded a little deeper into the meaty area. 
She sighed, “I know you’re not purposely trying to, but you’re torturing me…just a little bit.” 
I laughed, moving both hands to her hip to massage there. “I can tell. My apologies. I’ll avoid the inner thigh next time.” 
She hummed in satisfaction, “Next time? You’re spoiling me, you know that right? I’m ruined.” 
I smiled, crawling up her body to bury my face in her chest and inhale her intoxicating citrus and plum scent that I never seemed to get enough of. “Good. That’s my goal. You deserve it.” 
Her hands tangled in my hair as her nails gently scratched my scalp. We sat like that in a comfortable silence. Just feeling each other. The warmth of her skin and the steady thump of her heartbeat under my ear lulled me into a stupor, making me feel calm and peaceful. The gaping hole that I had felt in my heart for most of my life now seemed nonexistent and it was because of her. I no longer felt like I was lost. I was home. 
My arms tightened against her sides as I considered that thought, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of relief that had a lump forming in my throat. I took a few deep breaths, pushing the tears away that were threatening to seep out. I wanted to tell her how I was feeling, but I held it back - still afraid that it was too soon. 
When I raised my head to meet her gaze, my chest felt like it was going to burst over how fucking perfect she was. I wasn’t sure what my expression held, but she picked up on my emotional state causing her fingers to still their movements. Her brows pinched together. “You OK?” she asked. 
I had to clear the lump away in my throat before I spoke. “Yeah…I’m just getting tired. You ready to go to bed?” 
Her eyes searched my face for a brief moment before she nodded and withdrew her arms from around my shoulders so I could get up to switch off the light. Afterward, I crawled back into the bed, settling in at her back before pulling her body snugly against my front. She drifted off quickly, her breathing slowing as she relaxed further into me. I had a harder time finding sleep that night as my thoughts ran wild with possibilities for our future. There was no question about it, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her and I wanted it to start now. However, I knew that was my impulsive nature talking. I needed to take this slow and continue to follow her lead. If this was going to work, it needed to be on her timeline, not mine.
Friday morning Kat awoke feeling groggy and stiff. I had a feeling she felt worse than she let on, but she insisted she would be alright once she started moving around. I got up to get a hot shower going while she took a few minutes to do some gentle stretches. She joined me afterward, yawning before snaking her arms around my waist and leaning against my chest as she stood under the hot spray. 
My fingers went to her hair, working the water through it until it was saturated. My hands then found their way to her face, cupping her cheeks as I took in her expression. 
“Are you sure you’re feeling OK? Maybe we should cut our rehearsal time down today?”
She shrugged, “We’ll see how it goes. I’m just having a slow start…I think.”
I sighed, “If you need a break today I think it would be OK. We’ve got it down pretty good so far…”
She put a finger over my lips to silence me, “I’m feeling better already. Relax.”
I rolled my eyes and nodded, dropping the subject and focused my attention on washing her hair. She did seem to be feeling better by the time we were done showering, which helped alleviate some of my concern. However, a few hours into rehearsal, it was clear she was running out of steam. The occasional wince and constant shifting on her feet told me she was uncomfortable and most likely having joint pain. 
By the time we were down to our last hour and a half of studio time, I called it. She protested as I sat down on the floor with my arms and legs crossed like a petulant child and refused to do anything else. She finally relented and started packing up as she reluctantly admitted she was feeling like shit. I wanted to take her home with me and take care of her, but she wasn’t having it. She decided instead to go to her house and “sleep it off”. I wasn’t happy about it but agreed. I was saddened by the fact that she wouldn’t allow me to help in any way and also by the fact that she wouldn’t be staying with me that night. I was already getting used to having her in my bed. The mere thought of her not being there was already making me feel anxious. 
I ended up breaking our self-imposed rules and pulled her into the small one person bathroom as we were about to leave. I needed to feel her, if only for a brief moment before we parted for the evening. She scolded me, but that didn’t stop her from wrapping her arms around my neck as I leaned in for a fiery kiss. It helped dampen my anxiousness, but it was only temporary. 
Once we finally broke apart, she exited the bathroom and scanned the area for any nosey onlookers. Finding none, she gave me the all clear to come out behind her. We said our polite goodbyes after that. Then we were on our way to our respective homes. 
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The anxious feeling quickly returned when I walked into my house alone. I had to keep myself busy catching up on some much needed plant care in an attempt to drown out the lonely feeling that kept creeping in. Even Zee seemed to be moping around, lacking her usual enthusiasm for dinner and play time. 
The minutes seemed to be dragging on painfully slow as I ran out of things to keep me occupied. I ended up spending the rest of the evening in my studio working on one of the several paintings I had started of my new muse. It was nearing midnight when I finally decided to go to bed, even though I was still feeling amped up. I really wanted to text Kat and see how she was feeling, but didn’t want to chance waking her up if she was asleep. It was almost maddening. 
My sleep that night was restless. I had tossed and turned so much that Zee got mad and left the bedroom. I felt groggy when the alarm woke me from my light sleep the next morning. I was staring at the ceiling and feeling almost ridiculous over the fact that not having Kat here was affecting me this much when my phone pinged. I couldn’t help smiling when I saw her name pop up on the screen. I grabbed my phone, realizing I had a few texts from random numbers that I didn’t even bother to look at. Hers was the only one I cared about.
Kit Kat: I should have just gone home with you. Your bed is so much more comfortable than mine. 😞
My smile widened as I hit the call button.
Her voice was muffled when she answered, like she had her face buried in a pillow. I chuckled, “Thanks for the tip, honey. Now I know what argument to use next time.” 
She huffed, “Shush you. I didn’t wanna be a burden.”
I sighed knowing that was probably the way Alec often made her feel, “You’re never a burden. I’d just put your ass to bed and go downstairs so you could sleep. Problem solved.”
She laughed as I continued, “OR…or…I’d crawl into bed and sleep it off with you. A little extra sleep never hurt anyone. Seriously though, are you feeling better?”
I could hear the blankets rustling as she moved around, “Umm, maybe. Not as achy, but still a little stiff.” 
“Do you wanna hold off on rehearsal and rest some more?” I asked.
She scoffed, “Absolutely not. It’s our last rehearsal day. There are a couple of things we need to nail down before tomorrow.”
I rolled my eyes, “Ok, fine. I’m gonna bring you some herbal tea though. No complaining. You’re gonna drink it and like it. It’ll help.” 
She sighed dramatically, “Yes, sir. Whatever you say.”  
I groaned, “Please don’t talk like that or else I’m gonna get hard.” 
She snickered, “Sorry. I’ll behave. I’ll see you at the studio here shortly, yeah?”
“Yep. I’ll bring you some breakfast too. Just worry about gettin’ yourself there.”
I could hear the smile in her voice as she replied with a breathy, “Yes, sir.” 
I raked a hand down my face, feeling that familiar rush of blood to my dick, “Damnit.”
“Enjoy your morning shower,” she said with a laugh. 
“Yeah yeah…bye. See you soon, sweetheart.” 
After a very cold shower, I got ready, fed Zee, made Kat’s tea, then headed out. As promised, I stopped to pick up some breakfast on the way. I found Kat already stretching when I walked in. She looked like she felt a little better at least. 
After eating, we got to it, working out the last of the minor kinks that we kept running into with the lifts. By the end of our rehearsal session, we were successfully executing the routine perfectly each time and were feeling pretty confident about it. The only concern we had was that the producers might want us to tone down the sexual nature of it. My thought was to tell them to fuck off because they picked the song. It was their fault. 
Once rehearsal was over, we had to make our way over to Television City Studios for spray tan night. There was no getting out of it this week unfortunately. It was obvious that gossip was spreading throughout the staff and cast based on the general vibes toward us. What that gossip was, we had no idea. I assumed it was mostly to do with the Alec confrontation. Everyone was nice of course, but the looks being passed around told us things were being said. 
The weird vibes seemed to intensify when Alec and Lana showed up. We hadn’t seen him since the incident, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. His face was definitely banged up more than I thought it would be - with a black eye, busted lip, and bruised jaw. I couldn’t help feeling a little satisfaction from that. He deserved far worse. 
I could feel Kat tensing beside me when she caught sight of Alec. I placed my hand on the small of her back for reassurance, which caused her to lean into me and focus her attention elsewhere. Marc and Stefanie joined us, checking in with Kat to see how she was doing. I was only half paying attention, keeping my eye on the asshole, watching as Lana seemed to try and sooth him. It was obvious his usual crowd wasn’t being as friendly with him. I hoped that meant they were finally seeing what kind of person he was. He deserved to lose everything. 
Luckily, we didn’t have to wait long. A PA sought us out and explained that they would take care of us first from now on so we could get out of there in an effort to keep Kat away from Alec. Clearly Stacia and Joe had shared some information with the staff, but who knew how much? The rumors were probably getting pretty wild at this point. I could only imagine what was going to eventually hit the tabloids. 
After reminding Kat about my comfortable bed, she came home with me after that. We ordered some to-go food from the Greek diner on the way and had that for dinner. I encouraged her to go get some rest after we ate. She protested, but still followed me upstairs and allowed me to put her into one of my oversized t-shirts and braid her hair before pulling back the covers and urging her to lay down. Zee joined her almost immediately and snuggled into her side so that I could tuck them both in. I sat on the edge of the bed, pushing a few loose strands of hair back as she smiled up at me. 
“I feel weird coming over here just to sleep,” she finally said. 
I rolled my eyes, “It’s fine. I like that you wanna be here, even if you are using me for my orthopedic mattress.” 
She snorted out a laugh, “You know that’s not the only reason I’m here. I…I feel safe here…with you.” 
My lips set into a tight line. I hated that she ever had to feel unsafe. “You can stay here as long as you want. I don’t mind. I actually…” 
I paused, suddenly feeling vulnerable, but decided to say what I was thinking anyway. 
“I feel less lonely when you’re here.” 
She gave me a misty-eyed smile as she reached for my hand and brought it to her lips. I gave her a soft smile in return, rubbing my thumb over the tops of her fingers.
“Now, you rest. I think I’m gonna go paint for a bit, then I’ll come to bed.” 
After leaning down to give her and Zee a quick kiss on the top of the head, I disappeared to my studio. I started a new painting that night. It was of Kat, of course, lying on her side facing away in the creamy colored bedding that contrasted so perfectly with the golden brown skin of her bare back. Her chestnut hair wild and fanning out around her head. I made sure to add the two small freckles on her left shoulder blade that I loved to kiss so much as well as the subtle definition of her toned muscles that I always found to be so fucking sexy. I worked to get the curve of her hip just right as the sheet draped off it. 
She really did have the body of a goddess, full and curvy but still firm and perfectly sculpted from a life spent on the dance floor. It was feminine, yet exuded strength. I was almost certain she could crush my head with her thighs if she wanted to, which was sort of a turn on if I was being honest.
My intense concentration was broken by my phone pinging with a text message. It was another random number. I glanced at it, someone wanting to get together to party after seeing me on SNL. I had started getting a lot of these all of a sudden. Since none of the numbers were saved, I knew it couldn’t be anyone good. I had cleared out my contacts list after rehab for a reason. I rolled my eyes, then blocked the number. 
Realizing it was nearing 10:30 PM, I decided to head to bed. I made an effort to be quiet as I went through my nightly routine. Kat didn’t seem fazed in the slightest as I crawled into bed behind her to be the big spoon. She sunk back into my embrace as I put my arm around her and Zee, who was still snuggled against her chest. Once her scent invaded my senses, I was out. 
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I woke up the next morning nose to nose with Kat. Her eyes were on my face as her fingers combed through the mess that I knew my hair had to be. She gave me a toothy smile as she told me ‘Good morning’. I responded by pulling her into a passionate kiss that lasted several minutes, finally breaking away because we really needed to get up. It was show day, so we couldn’t get behind schedule.  
We drove to the studio separately to keep up appearances. I took a detour for coffee mostly so we didn’t show up at the same time. We ended up being pretty early, but the crew was ready to get started once I got there. Kat and I talked through the music arrangement with the band Director, then got started on our first run through for camera blocking and lighting. The routine was definitely getting everyone’s attention. 
Kat and I caught Stacia and Joe watching from the back of the ballroom. A nervous look passed between us, waiting for the chat to tell us to tone it down some, but that talk never came. The rest of the cast began filtering into the ballroom just as we were finishing up our third and final run through. We finished up to a few whoops and whistles from some of them. Most of the ruckus seemed to be coming from Marc and Stefanie. Marc gave me a pat on the back as we walked off the dance floor as he and Stefanie praised us. I was slowly forming a new appreciation for them as we exited to go to our costume fitting. 
After putting on my black pants, I didn’t bother to button up the shirt before walking out to the fitting area where Kat and Amy were discussing the minor additions to her costume that would be removed throughout the performance. She turned to me, holding out two skirt options that would fit over her original black lace costume, asking which one I thought would be best. We ended up going through those moves of the dance to test them out. We settled on a lightweight silky one. 
After that, I was standing in front of the three panel mirror as Kat fussed with my open shirt and explained what we needed. Amy decided to use some sticky Velcro strips to close it up rather than the buttons so that Kat could easily yank it open at the right moment. Once Amy got everything sorted and fastened, Kat shocked me a little by coming up behind me, grasping the shirt in her hands, and ripping it open without warning. She rested her chin on my shoulder as she laughed out, “I think that’ll get the job done.”  
I snorted out a laugh, as our eyes locked in the mirror. She had a mischievous grin on her face as she pulled the shirt open further and allowed her eyes to travel downward. She raised an eyebrow as she focused on my middle section. 
I shrugged, “I think the spray tan lady gave me better abs. They were there this morning.” 
It was Kat’s turn to snort out a laugh as she ran her hands down my stomach, “No, they were there already…she just did a little contouring.” 
I rolled my eyes, “Whatever. I mean, I’ve lost weight but I dunno about that.” 
She leaned in closer to my ear, “I’d still hit it with or without them.” 
My breath hitched as I glanced over at Amy who seemed to be in deep conversation with an assistant, then I looked back to Kat who was still giving me that mischievous smile. She was playing with fire today. 
I tilted my head to whisper in her direction, “Better watch yourself Kitten, or else I’ll do just that.” 
She was still standing pressed to my back when I felt a hand grab my ass. She gave me a cheeky grin before letting go and turning toward Amy and her assistant to ask for a black tie and suit jacket to go with my costume. After changing out of our costumes, Amy rushed them back for the minor alterations needed. Then we were off to hair and makeup. 
We managed to nab our favorite hair and makeup team, which we were happy about. Those ladies were always a good time, making the process a lot more bearable. Kat opted to wear her hair down in soft waves again this week, rubbing it in as the hair gel was slathered onto my head to slick my hair back in that way they loved doing to all the guys. 
As I watched Kat interact with everyone, I could see a notable change in her. She seemed more carefree and happier than she had been during those first few weeks, openly joking around and having fun with those around her. I briefly wondered if she ever had this in prior seasons - the freedom to be herself. If she hadn’t, it made me sad knowing that she never fully got it until the end. She deserved so much better than she got. 
I was drawn from my thoughts by Kat suggesting to Samantha that I should wear some mascara and a smidge of eyeliner. I furrowed my brows at her and started laughing. 
“You’re not serious?” I asked. 
She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, fighting a smile as she nodded. Holly glanced up from Kat’s hair and smiled, “I agree. That’d be hot.” 
Kat waggled her eyebrows at me, “Yeah, see. It’s hot…”
Samantha gave me a questioning look and I shrugged, “If that’s what my girl wants, that’s what she gets.” 
I realized too late what I had actually said, causing me to grimace slightly. Kat’s eyes widened before she laughed it off. Samantha and Holly seemed unfazed by it, laughing along and getting back to work. 
We got held up with our costumes for a bit as they perfected the last minute changes we requested. By the time they got that figured out, we were the last couple to do final dress rehearsals. Luckily a lot of the cast had cleared out by then since they were finished, so we didn’t have to worry about too big of an audience. We ended up having to go through the routine a couple more times than we normally did to work out the kinks with the costumes since they were a little different from what we had been using in rehearsal. Once that was figured out, we nailed it. 
We didn’t have long before the show started after that. Kat and I were the fourth couple to perform, so we were already in the staging area waiting. She had to do a quick change after the opening professionals performance then immediately joined me again so that we could start our pre-performance ritual. I grabbed Kat’s phone to pick a song and began laughing before I even hit play.
🎶Listen to Dieter's Song Choice Here🎶
Kat narrowed her eyes at me as the hip-hop beat filled her wired earbud. I was already moving to the music by the time she realized what the song was. Her face flushed red and she fought to hold in laughter as she shook her head at me. 
I started mouthing along with the words as I grabbed her hands to get her to move with me, “I take you to the candy shop, I let you lick the lollipop.” 
She shushed me through her giggles, going along and moving with me to the beat. It wasn’t exactly a hype song, but it allowed us to have some fun and shake off the nerves before we got the signal to head to the dance floor. 
🎶Listen to Performance Song Here🎶
We took our places, me standing with a suit jacket casually thrown over my shoulder with Kat in front of me as a light fog surrounded us. After a flourish of her arms as the song started, her hands slid down the sides of my face to my chest.
You put a spell on me / I’m losing my mind
She turned, walking away suggestively and beckoning me with a finger. I threw the jacket down and followed behind her. Then our back and forth power struggle began as I caught up to her, capturing her arm for a spin and pulling her backside to my front.
You better stop these things / It’s a matter of time before I hunt you down, grab your chin, kiss your lips. / You bring me back, I lay you down, and grab your hips, and we lose all control.
We swayed in unison as she turned her face toward mine, my hand capturing her chin and pressing the side of my mouth against hers. My hands found their way to her hips as we did a deep circular rotation with them in unison before spinning her to face me for the next verse. 
And then before you know, I put a spell on you, and now you’re mine. / I’ve got a hold on you, at least for tonight.
We swayed, staring into each other's eyes as my hands caressed her face. We transitioned into an intertwining leg combo before she spun away from me, her hand cupping my cheek before sliding down and pulling the loose tie from around my neck to take with her.
You know I can’t help myself as you ask tenderly / If I’d dim the lights as your hand brushes me / Then the floor swallows your clothes, and your silhouette puts on a show
With a flourish of my hands and a snap, the lights dimmed. A spotlight dropped down on Kat as she discarded the tie and began a slow and seductive roll of her body. Pulling the newly added silky skirt loose as she spun and dropping it to the floor before moving toward me and kicking her leg up for the lift onto my shoulder.
You give me fever, drive me insane / You got me going in circles with potions and bottles and I can’t escape / I can’t escape / I’m lost in your ways
We transitioned into a salida, our foot work completely in sync before Kat moved her legs in a swivel, sliding her arms to my neck as mine tightened under her arms and around her back. Her feet spread wide so that they were inches off the floor as I leaned forward and spun us in a circle.
You put a spell on me / I’m losing my mind / You better stop these games / It’s a matter of time before I hunt you down, grab your chin, kiss your lips. / You bring me back, I lay you down, and grab your hips, and we lose all control.
As I gently placed her back on the floor, she grabbed my waist, turning me away from her so that she could rip my shirt open similar to the way she had in the dressing room earlier. After pulling the shirt off and discarding it on the floor, things only got more sensual as we moved across the ballroom as one. Hands sliding across each other's bare skin as our foreheads pressed together. Lips brushing as she twisted and swiveled around me. I spun her, her back to my front again for the deep circular rotation of our hips before moving into the tango walk.
I put a spell on you, and now you’re mine. / I’ve got a hold on you, at least for tonight…At least for tonight.
For the final part, we transitioned into another lift as I spun her around and gently lowered her to her knees on top of the fake bed we had requested as a prop. After dipping her backwards at the waist and doing half a rotation, she popped back up into our finishing pose with her hands on my face and our lips near touching as the lights quickly dimmed to black causing a deafening round of applause. 
Kat managed to sneak an actual kiss in before the lights came back on. There was something incredibly thrilling about it, knowing that all eyes were on us but they couldn’t see anything in that brief moment. It had me wanting her so badly. I was ready to leave without getting our scores. 
It was time to chat with the judges after that. They mainly focused on how sexy the performance was, going so far as to make jokes about fines for not meeting the show rating standards. They mentioned how our chemistry seemed to evolve more and more each week and was now exploding off the charts. It left me wondering how much longer we could keep this thing between us under wraps if we couldn’t hide it on the dance floor. 
I had a hard time concentrating on anything except Kat during our interview. My arm was around her shoulders while she had placed one around my waist. I hadn’t bothered to put my shirt back on, so I could feel every inch of her pressing against me with only the thin fabric of the lace costume separating us. Her fingers held my waist firmly as she pulled me tightly against her side. 
The air around us almost felt like it was vibrating as we fumbled our way through the hosts' questions, trying to explain how we kept our cool with such a provocative dance. I felt like they were trying to trip us up into saying something incriminating in regard to our relationship, but we played it cool, managing to redirect the focus to two friends having fun while working together. 
After standing around waiting for a commercial break to end, they went straight into scoring. We received four tens. Another perfect score. We were elated obviously. Kat didn’t hesitate to jump into my arms for a hug over the news. We were buzzing with excitement after that, finding it hard to focus on the remaining performances. Especially when we would brush against each other, accidentally or not. I tried to avoid shooting heated glances her way, but it was hard. Especially when she seemed to be reciprocating them. 
We both sighed in relief when the show was finally over, making a beeline toward the dressing rooms. We had zero urge to hang around and socialize once the show ended. Honestly, after our steamy performance, the only thing I could think about was getting her alone just so I could kiss her. I was quickly losing the strength to restrain myself from scooping her up in my arms in front of everyone. We reached my room first, after glancing up and down the hallway for prying eyes and finding none, I turned toward her with a mischievous smile and pulled her through the doorway.
After closing the door behind us, I backed her to the middle of the room, pulling her hips against mine as I captured her lips in a searing kiss. Her hands snaked around my neck as she deepened it, swallowing the groan that rumbled from my chest. I pulled back in an effort to not get carried away, sighing as I pushed her hair away from her face. “Lemme get changed so we can get outta here.” 
She huffed, suggestively running her fingertips down the bare skin of my chest. “Fine…OK,” she said in mock annoyance. She moved to lean against the vanity countertop, crossing her arms as she watched me undress down to my boxer briefs. 
I couldn’t help standing up a little straighter and puffing out my chest as I asked, “You see something you like, honey?” 
She smiled as she looked at me through her lashes, “Maybe…” 
I playfully rolled my eyes and chuckled, grabbing my robe off a wall hook and putting it on before shoving my costume into its garment bag. I quickly opened the door to put it out for pickup. As I closed the door behind me, I surveyed the room, thinking through what I needed to pack up to take with me. I walked toward the vanity, reaching around Kat to grab my phone charger. She tilted her head closer, grazing her nose along my neck before sucking on my earlobe as her fingers tugged the robe open. My hand paused midair as I leaned into her mouth with a smile, “What do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?”
Her palms moved to my chest, pushing me backwards until the back of my knees bumped the chair, “Why don’t you sit for a spell, Bravo.” 
I was curious where this was going, so I didn’t argue. The robe fell open as I sunk down into the chair, slouching with my legs spread wide - giving her an eye full of little Bravo who was now at full attention and dying to come out to play. My eyes stayed on hers as they drifted down to enjoy the view. She ambled forward, swaying her hips seductively until she came to stop between my thighs. She reached out, cupping my cheek with a smirk on her lips as she lifted one leg, then the other to straddle my hips. Only the thin fabric of our undergarments separated my hard length from the place that it wanted to disappear into. My hands found her hips, gripping and rocking them against me. Her eyes fluttered closed at the contact as she leaned forward against my chest, changing the angle to seek more friction. My face nuzzled against hers as my lips found her ear, “I want you so bad right now…need to stop teasing me.” 
Her breath hitched as I bucked against her to emphasize my point.  She turned her head, mouth hovering above mine, “You can have me…anytime you want. You don’t even need to ask…” 
I smiled against her lips, “Is that right?” 
She nodded, leaning in for a sensual kiss as she continued to slowly roll her hips against mine. 
I groaned as my hands slid up her bare thighs to dip under the hem of her dress and grab the globes of her ass. “Tell me what you need, Kitten,” I mumbled between kisses. 
She pulled back, running her hands down my chest as she stared into the depths of my soul with a playful smile. “I want you to show me what a proper fucking from Dieter Bravo is like.” 
My brows knitted together as a wide grin spread across my face, “What? Here? Now?” 
Her brows arched, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she nodded. 
I sighed, “Oh Kitten, I don’t think you can be quiet enough for that. You’ll get us caught.” 
She straightened her shoulders as her eyes narrowed on me, “You wanna try me?”
I huffed out a laugh, giving a jerky nod, “Yes, I fucking do.” 
My lips crashed against hers, kissing her with more force than I ever had. If she wanted that carnal, animalistic side of me, who was I to deny her? Fucking was something I knew all too well, but I could already tell that even this would feel differently with her, and I craved it. I wanted her in any way she would let me have her. 
A knock on the door caused us to breathlessly break away from each other. 
“Dieter, are you still here?” a voice called from the hallway. 
 Kat and I stared at each other, confused by the sudden interruption.
“Yeah…I’m here…” I called back cautiously. 
“Have you seen Kat? She hasn’t turned in her costume yet. I’d like to get out of here soon.” 
We both held in giggles as I yelled back, “Haven’t seen her.” 
Kat smiled mischievously and wiggled against my extremely hard dick. I gave her a look of warning as we heard muted muttering and retreating footsteps outside the door. Once it appeared that the coast was clear, my lips found hers again as she continued to grind against me. My body felt like it was on fire, her touch further stoking the flame as her hand moved downward between us. Just as her fingertips dipped under the waistband of my boxer briefs, another knock sounded on the door, “Dieter, can you like…text her or something? No one’s seen her.” 
I let out a frustrated growl as I leaned my forehead against Kat’s, “Oh for fucks sake…”
She fought a smile as she held in her laugh.
“Just… give me a minute!” I finally called back a bit more harshly than I meant to. 
Without a second thought, I grabbed Kat’s thighs and stood, sitting her on the edge of the vanity before squatting down to take off her dance shoes. She watched me work with a small smile on her lips, lifting first her right foot, then the left for me to unbuckle the straps and place kisses along her calf as I pulled each shoe off. My hands ghosted up her legs toward her hips, gripping them to pull her off the vanity. I turned her to face the mirror, then unfastened the hooks to the straps on the back of her dress. Our gazes locked on each other in the mirror as I began to slide the dress down her body, revealing her to me. Once I pushed it past her hips, my head tipped forward to place gentle kisses along her neck, whispering a quiet “wait here” against her ear before I tied my robe shut and bent down to collect her costume. 
I had to adjust myself as I moved across the room, hoping the loose fabric of the robe might conceal my raging hard on as I carefully opened the door just far enough to pass off the costume pieces in question. I quickly shoved them through the opening, “Here ya go.”
The PA momentarily stared at me with confusion before finally reaching to take the costume. I gave her a tight smile, “Have a good evening.” 
She still looked confused as she replied, “Uhh, thanks?” 
Without another word, I shut the door and locked it. Turning to find Kat still standing facing the mirror like I left her. 
She smirked, “You realize that’s probably gonna cause some gossip…” 
I quickly closed the distance between us, my hands gliding around to the front of her body to explore her curves, “Then let them fucking gossip. I have urgent matters to attend to…” 
My left hand cupped her breast and squeezed it gently, eliciting a soft sigh from her as she leaned back against my chest. Her right hand reached behind her, tugging at the tie to the robe and pulling it open again. Her eyes settled on mine in the mirror as she cradled my bulge and stroked it gently. 
I tisked at her as I grabbed her hand away, “Oh no no, Kitten. If you want a proper fuck, that means I’m in charge right now.” 
She sucked in a sharp breath, allowing her hand to fall limply at her side as my right hand joined the left, kneading her breasts and pulling her body flush with mine. My mouth found her neck, nipping little love bites up the length of it as my right hand slid into the waistband of her underwear to gently tease her, spreading her slick over the swollen bud that was already throbbing in anticipation. 
Within seconds she melted against me, whimpering as my fingers found their rhythm. Once her body began to tense and tremble, I withdrew my hand and was met with a soft whine. 
“Don’t worry, Kitten. I’m not done yet…just warming you up.”
My fingers moved to her hips, hooking in the elastic of her underwear. “Can I take these off?” I asked against the curve of her neck, causing goosebumps to form on her skin.  
She nodded, letting out a breathy “please” as she arched into me. I placed open mouthed kisses down her spine as I slid them off. After standing upright, I placed a knee between her thighs to spread her legs as my right hand found its way back to her center. My fingers gently rubbed tight circles around her clit while my left hand moved back to her breast. My eyes connected with hers in the mirror again as my teeth grazed her earlobe. She was already coming undone, panting and squirming against me, and we hadn’t even gotten to the fun part yet. 
“You tell me to stop if I’m being too rough,” I said against her ear. 
Her breath hitched as she nodded. I withdrew my fingers, giving her clit a quick smack causing her to moan quietly, “Use your words, Kitten. I need you to agree. Don’t be afraid to tell me to stop. You understand?” 
She nodded again, “Y-Yes, I understand.” 
I gave her a cheeky smile, “Good girl.” 
Another quick smack to her center had her falling forward with a deep groan, resting her palms on the vanity as she rubbed her ass against me. My fingers got back to work, sinking into her heat and curling against just the right spot as I roughly shook my palm against her bundle of nerves. 
I hadn’t been this aggressive with her in the past, so I focused on what her body was telling me, afraid she wouldn’t make me stop if it was too much. She seemed to be into it as she sought out more friction against my palm. Her brows pinched together as her jaw went lax. Her head dropped down between her shoulders as she fought to hold in the moans. My left hand slid up to her neck, gripping just under her chin to pull her back against my chest as I kept up the relentless pace with my fingers. 
“I need to see your face, keep your eyes on me please.” 
She panted out a breathy, “Yes, sir” and I nearly lost myself. She must have felt my dick twitch against her, because she smiled widely, reaching one hand behind her to grab at my ass to pull my hips tighter against hers. 
I chuckled next to her ear as I rolled her clit between my fingertips, “Such a needy girl…come for me then I’ll fuck you like you want me to.” 
She gasped at the new sensation, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip to hold in the sounds that were trying to escape. Her eyes shifted between mine and my hands in the mirror, the sight seeming to spur her on as she writhed against me. I could tell she was close as I dipped my fingers back into her heat while roughly shaking my palm against her clit again. Her free hand grabbed my forearm, squeezing it tightly as she began to tremble and tense in my arms before going limp. I gave her a moment, allowing her to come down from her high as my hands explored her body. 
I suddenly felt her arch against me as a lazy smile spread across her face. “Will you fuck me now? Please?” she asked in a sultry voice. 
Little Bravo was damn near busting through my boxer briefs at that. I was still a little apprehensive, afraid that I would hurt her. I knew the dancing was beginning to wear her body down, and I didn’t want to add to it, but I trusted that she would tell me if it was too much. 
I gave her a cocky smile as my right hand ghosted up her spine to grab the base of her neck to manipulate her into position, “Lean forward.” 
She complied, placing her palms on the vanity as she tilted her hips back and upward to give me better access. We stared at each other in the mirror as my fingertips lightly stroked down her back, then grabbed her hips, gripping them tightly as I rubbed my hardness against her. Before she could register what I was doing, I drew my hand back and slapped her ass. She flinched slightly. I soothed the area with my palm as I studied her, “Is that too much?” 
She smiled and shook her head, “No…just wasn’t expecting it.” Her voice had a raspy and needy tone to it. 
I gave it another smack, causing her to exhale out a quiet groan as she pushed back against me. I paused, savoring the sight of her before me, naked and nearly bent over the countertop in my dressing room. It was a sight I had never expected to see. This wasn’t at all an unusual situation for me before I got sober. I’d had more than my fair share of women and men bent over countertops in dressing rooms, but with her, it just felt different. I felt the same rush of excitement and arousal, but there was something else there with it. A tightness in my chest and tingling along my skin as my gaze met hers. 
My connection with her was more than physical and gave me a high unlike any drug I’d ever had. I could only assume this is what it felt like to be in love with someone. I suddenly understood why some men would risk life and limb for their significant other. If this is how they were made to feel, then I couldn’t blame them. I’d do anything for her. 
I reached down with my right hand, releasing myself from my boxer briefs as my other hand gently caressed her back. She watched me stroking myself in the mirror, her breathing speeding up from the sight as I tipped my head forward, allowing spit to drip down to my hand to spread over the hard length. 
I moved closer to her back side, allowing my cock to rub against her drenched center as I leaned my chest against her and reached around to knead her breast with my free hand, “I think you like watching me touch myself, don’t you honey?”
She sucked in a sharp breath at the contact as she pressed against me for more friction, “I like how you look at me when you do it. I can tell you’re thinking about all the different ways you want me.” 
I chuckled and mumbled, “You’re not wrong” against her shoulder as I notched the head at her entrance and began to slowly sink in. I gave her a moment to adjust. She hummed out a sigh as she nuzzled her cheek against mine. My hands moved back to her hips and gripped them firmly, “You sure this is what you want, Kitten? It won’t be gentle.” 
I felt her clench around me, my words seeming to excite her. 
“I’m sure. Don’t hold back, please.” 
She was damn near begging. It almost sent me over the edge. I had to take the first few thrusts slowly until I gained my focus back. On the fourth, my fingers dug into the meaty flesh of her hips to hold her in place as I slammed into her. She lurched forward slightly, crying out in surprise at the intensity. I paused, assessing her for a moment. A lazy smile spread across her face as she pushed back against me to keep going. 
I set a steady pace causing Kat to whimper loudly with each vigorous thrust. The sounds of our heavy pants and flesh smacking together filled the room as her right hand flew up to her mouth in an attempt to muffle some of the sound, eventually digging her teeth into her palm as she fought to contain herself. As she began to push backward against me to meet my thrusts, I could tell she was losing her composure. My right hand glided up her back, twisting in the hair at the nape of her neck as the other snaked around her waist to pull her flush against me. My fingers tightened in her locks, turning her face to meet mine. She kissed me in a libidinous way. I could feel it throughout my entire body, causing it to hum with electricity. I completely lost myself and my awareness as my craving for more of her intensified. 
I suddenly pulled out of her, causing whines of protest as I spun her around to face me and lifted her up onto the edge of the vanity. I wasted no time sinking back into her wet heat, pulling her closer and tilting her hips downward to get the friction where she needed it most. It was almost frantic between us now as our mouths crashed together, swallowing the grunts and moans that escaped with each forceful thrust that had her bouncing against me. Her hands found their way to the inside of my robe, sliding up my back before her nails dug in deep just as she tensed around me. She buried her face into the crook of my neck as she came with a deep moan that she tried hard to contain.
She finally raised her head to look at me with watery eyes. Her face was flushed and sweaty as she leaned her forehead against mine with a satisfied smile as I continued to drive into her with the same vigor. I could feel my release building as she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me in closer. I wasted no time burying my face into her chest, groaning loudly and whimpering as I came inside of her. 
She held me for a few minutes, scratching at the nape of my neck and down my back as my hands wandered up and down the sides of her body. We were both dripping with sweat as we waited for our breathing and heart rates to return to normal levels. This that came after is what made everything different with her. The intimate moments spent touching, feeling, and sharing our emotional connection was my favorite part. I wanted it to last forever. 
I eventually pulled away, looking up at her with soft eyes as I brushed her hair back. Part of me suddenly felt guilty for manhandling her the way that I just had. 
“I want you to come home with me tonight so I can take care of you. That was rough, I wanna make sure you don’t start hurting from it.” 
She gave me a small smile, “It wasn't too much. I'm more than OK. Really.”
I sighed, “Then…just… humor me. Please?”
Her legs tightened around my waist as her smile widened. “And how do you plan to take care of me?” she asked with an amused tone.
I pursed my lips in thought, “Hmmm, well, I’ll make you a fucking fantastic dinner while you relax on the couch and keep Zee occupied.” 
She hugged me a little tighter, “Hmmm, I could get behind that.” 
My lips found her throat, placing gentle kisses between my words, “Then I’ll run you a hot bath…maybe join you…massage your hips….legs…and feet…make you come again…then have a nice cuddle as we fall asleep.”
I could hear the smile in her voice, “Speaking of foot massages and coming…”
Busted. I glanced up at her with a sheepish smile, “What of it?” 
She caressed my jaw with a smirk, “Did you know what you were doing to me in New York, with the foot rub?” 
I snickered, hiding my face in the curve of her neck, “I’m aware that some people can have an orgasm from a foot massage. I had a thing with a massage therapist once and he taught me how to do it. It wasn’t intentional…initially…but then you didn’t stop me, so I just went with it…”
I felt a low chuckle rumbling in her chest, “You little shit.” 
I smiled against her skin, “Scold me all you want honey, but you looked like you were about to jump me. I knew it was only a matter of time.” 
She laughed against the top of my head, “The underwear selfie took it over the top. I took a screenshot of that, just so you know…” 
I couldn’t help the howl of laughter that ripped through me, “I had a feeling you enjoyed that. I took it for you, ya know…and you did not disappoint.” 
She hummed out a quiet laugh, “Yeah, that’s the reason the vibrator ended up under my pillow.” 
The memory of using said vibrator on her danced through my mind, causing my dick to twitch inside of her. She pulled back to look at me with a smile, “I felt that.” 
I shifted and pulled out of her with a groan, “Yeah, I need to get you home before he wakes up again.” 
She chuckled as I lowered her to the floor. I took off my robe and wrapped it around her shoulders with a smirk, “You might need that. Can’t have you walking down the hallway naked.”
She shook her head with a smile as she tied it shut, watching me throw on jeans and a t-shirt. I quickly packed up the few items I needed, then motioned for her to lead the way to her dressing room. 
There were still people milling around in the hallway. Most seemed oblivious to the activities that had just taken place on the other side of the door, except for Anika, who was standing across the hall chatting with one of the other professional dancers. They were both watching us with odd expressions as we exited my dressing room. I couldn’t help wondering if they heard something. 
Kat shocked me a little, noticing their attention, she responded with a wide smile, telling them to have a good evening as she literally strutted down to her dressing room. I followed her with a cheesy grin, never taking my eyes off her. It had to be obvious something just went down, but I sort of didn’t care. 
Kat was quick to get changed. She moved around the room to gather up her things, giving me a shy smile every time our gazes met. The electricity was still humming between us at higher levels than normal, and it was driving me insane. I needed her again, but in a different way - softer, slower, and more sensual. I wanted to worship every inch of her body, then wrap her up in my arms and never let go. 
Once she was packed up, we made our way out to our vehicles. She followed me home where I did everything for her that I promised I would…and more. 
Next: Week 7
Be sure to check out the fun Plant Dad Dieter extra at the end of the A/N.
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A/N: Whew! Ok. That one was a beast. I know...I have a problem.
Anyway...so did the Alec thing go down like you thought it would? Are we super pissed at Kat for the way she is handling it? Or do we support her plan of rubbing it all in Alec's face? Trust me when I say he's got more coming to him.
We got a lot of domestic Dieter and Kat (and Zee 🐈‍⬛) this chapter. How do we think each of them is handling things so far? Our poor guy is trying really hard and being super sweet. I want to cuddle him.
We got some new tidbits of information on Dieter during his therapy session. We will get the full story next chapter. Any theories?
Y'all ready for some Instagram Lives? Neither is Dieter. Doesn't mean he won't suddenly be inspired to give it a try a couple of chapters from now though. You'll probably need a tissue for that. 😬
How do we feel about his agent wanting to use Kat for publicity? Did Dieter make the right call on that?
And lastly...sexy time in the dressing room. These two are something else. How long until they are open about their relationship do you think? Can we also take a minute to appreciate Dieter taking charge and showing Kat a little something new? 😂
👉Because I'm a total whore for a good Argentine Tango, I bring you two super sexy videos. The first one in particular heavily influenced the vibes for Dieter and Kat's performance for this chapter.
Video 1 🎥
Video 2 🎥
👉In case you missed the post, I forgot to include the "Plant Daddy Era" t-shirt for SNL in the last chapter. I made sure to give it a mention in this one and also bring you a fun edit. Please enjoy. #PlantsBeforePants😅
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CP Taglist: @titlee78 @legendary-pink-dot  @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs  @harriedandharassed
@hisandsnakes  @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing  @runningmom94  @sin-djarin
@cakipy-blog  @missladym1981  @guelyury  @weho2kcmo  @alokaerza  
@girlofchaos  @trulybetty  @rhoorl  @bitchwitch1981  @madnessofadaydreamer
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@peepawispunk @pedrostories @dieterbravobrainrotclub
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shaiprsly · 3 days ago
Text
𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐲 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Elvis Presley x Fem!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 1972. Fame, wealth, and the haunting allure of Elvis Presley—everything Y/N could ever want, except the one thing that really matters: a simple, normal life. Hired as the nanny for Lisa Marie Presley, Y/N is thrown into the heart of the Presley world, where she quickly becomes more than just a caretaker for Elvis's daughter. As Priscilla remains distant, Y/N steps in, offering Lisa Marie the affection and attention she craves. But it’s Elvis, cold and aloof at first, who soon becomes captivated by her. With 15 years between them, Elvis begins to blur the lines between professional and personal, showering Y/N with gifts and flirting dangerously. He may be married, but that doesn't stop him from wanting Y/N. Torn between duty and desire, Y/N must face the growing tension, knowing that giving in could shatter everything she’s worked for. Will she resist the King of Rock and Roll, or will his love prove impossible to escape?
𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬/𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Cussing, cheating, age gap (Elvis is 37, reader is 22), virgin reader, emotional manipulation. I guess that all !!
𝐀/𝐍 : Hi so this is my first time writing and actually posting (and it's literally a whole fic), but I wanted to give it a try!! Let me know what you think and if I should keep writing, because I'm not sure lmao, I might change little thing in the story !! ALSO MY FIRST LANGUAGE ISN'T ENGLISH!! I'M FRENCH LOLLZ
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February 15th, 1972
You stand at the base of the grand staircase, your heart pounding in your chest. The door in front of you looms like a barrier between the life you’ve always known and the unknown world that lies just beyond it. The house, a sprawling mansion with gleaming white columns and intricate ironwork, feels both overwhelming and intimidating. It’s everything you’ve read about in magazines and seen on TV—the kind of place people dream of living in but never actually do. But today, it’s not a dream. Today, it’s your reality.
You’ve always been practical, grounded by the simplicity of life. Growing up in the countryside, you never imagined you’d end up here, working for one of the most famous families in the world. But here you are, standing in front of the Presley estate, about to walk into a life so far removed from your own that it almost feels surreal.
Priscilla Presley had called you last Tuesday, saying she’d come across your nanny advertisement in a mall, and that she needed help with Lisa Marie since Elvis would be away for a month. You had never worked for anyone like them, and the idea of leaving your quiet, small-town life was intimidating. But when Priscilla’s calm, urgent voice came over the phone, you couldn’t refuse. After asking you a series of questions, she offered you the job, promising a paycheck at the end of the month of $3,700. It seemed too good to be true, but you couldn't turn it down. This was Elvis Presley’s daughter—how could you?
Still, that knot of nervousness twisted in your stomach. You'd been a nanny before, in your small town, but this was a whole different level.
You shift your weight, feeling the weight of the mansion’s presence. The world you’re about to step into feels much larger than you, and you’re unsure if you’ll ever truly fit in. But there’s no turning back now. You’ve been hired, and now you have to prove you can do the job. As you lift your hand to knock on the door, it opens slowly, and there he is.
Elvis Presley.
In person.
Standing before you.
You’ve seen him on TV, in movies, and on the covers of countless magazines, but nothing prepared you for the way he commands a room the moment he steps into it. His presence is magnetic—powerful, undeniable. He’s taller than you imagined, his broad shoulders filling the doorframe, his gaze steady and intense. There’s something about the way he looks at you—cold, assessing, as if he’s evaluating you in the span of a single heartbeat.
“Must be Y/N,” he says, his voice low, rough, and heavy with that familiar drawl. “Priscilla told me you’d be here, she's out for the day.”
You nod, throat tight. You’re not sure what to say. Elvis Presley doesn’t feel like a real person. He feels like an idea, a legend. And yet, here he is, standing right in front of you. “Yes, that’s me,” you manage, trying to sound confident, though your heart is racing. “I’m here to look after Lisa Marie.”
His eyes flicker for just a moment, a hint of something you can’t place passing through them, but then it’s gone, replaced by the same indifferent expression. “Come in,” he grunts, stepping aside to let you enter. His voice is dismissive, as if he’s done this countless times before.
You step inside, the cool air of the mansion washing over you. The grand foyer is decorated with dark wood furniture, vintage paintings on the walls, and thick, plush rugs that muffle your footsteps. The space feels like it’s frozen in time, a snapshot of another era. You feel like you’ve stepped into a different world, one where wealth and fame are the rules, not the exceptions.
“Hey, squirt,” Elvis calls out, his voice surprisingly soft for a moment. You turn, and Lisa Marie is standing there, staring up at you with big, innocent eyes.
“Are you the new lady?” Lisa Marie asks, her voice soft but clearly curious. She can barely form full sentences at her age, but you catch the excitement in her tone. She’s only four, after all.
You smile, kneeling to meet her at eye level. “Yes, I’m Y/N,” you reply gently. “I’m here to look after you.”
Lisa Marie grins widely and grabs your hand. “Yay! I like you,” she says, pulling you toward the living room. You can’t help but laugh, her enthusiasm melting some of your nerves.
As you follow her, Elvis lingers in the background, crossing his arms and watching you both with a detached interest. His gaze, however, is still sharp, as if he’s measuring you up, trying to figure you out.
“Don’t make a mess, kid,” Elvis mutters under his breath, not even glancing at Lisa Marie. It’s clear he’s trying to maintain some semblance of authority, but he doesn’t seem particularly engaged with his daughter. He’s just there, overseeing it all.
Lisa Marie pulls you down to the carpet, surrounded by her scattered toys. She starts showing you some of her favorites, her speech still childlike and a little jumbled. “This is my bear. He talks,” she says, holding up a stuffed animal that looks like it’s seen better days.
“Really?” you ask, playing along. “What does he say?”
“He says ‘I love you,’” she replies matter-of-factly, “but only when no one’s looking.” She giggles softly and looks over at her father.
You glance over, and Elvis is still watching, but now his gaze is a little different—colder, perhaps, but you can’t be sure. He’s standing against the doorframe, arms crossed, his jaw tight as he observes you.
“Do what you gotta do, but keep it quiet,” he grumbles. “Lisa’s gotta learn some focus.”
You try not to let his words bother you. It’s clear he’s not the warmest man, and his attitude toward you seems colder with every passing moment. But you’re not here to be distracted by him. You’re here for Lisa Marie, and that’s all that matters.
____
The afternoon sun hangs lazily in the sky, casting long shadows across Lisa's room. Lisa had finally fallen asleep around 3 PM, her small body curled into a peaceful ball on her hamburger bed, the gentle rise and fall of her chest the only sound in the otherwise still room. You smile at her for a moment, the warm feeling of accomplishment filling your chest. You had managed to calm her down after a long afternoon of playing, and now, for the first time in what felt like hours, you have a moment to yourself.
With soft steps, you turn and leave the bedroom, your fingers brushing against the cool walls of the hallway as you make your way toward the living room. You need a break, just a few minutes away from the constant responsibility of being Lisa Marie’s caretaker. But as you step into the living room, you freeze in place.
There, on the couch, is Elvis.
He’s sitting back with his legs spread out, a glass of whiskey in his hand. It’s barely 3:15 PM, and yet, there he is, drinking. You blink, confused by the sight. You glance at him, and his eyes flicker up from his glass, catching yours. But he doesn’t say anything, his gaze simply lingering over you, as if expecting you to say something.
You don’t. You don’t have the courage to. After all, you’re not here to challenge him or question his choices. You’re here to take care of Lisa. That's it.
As you take a hesitant step forward, your eyes can’t help but notice something strange. Elvis is taking more than just a drink. With the glass still in his hand, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small bottle of pills. Your heart skips a beat as he pops a few into his mouth, tossing the bottle back into his pocket without a second thought.
Your mind races. You’re not sure what those pills are, but the way he’s handling them, so casually, it feels like something you shouldn’t be witnessing. You stand there, paralyzed by the scene in front of you, unsure of what to do. You don’t want to intrude, but the anxiety building in your chest makes it hard to ignore the obvious signs of something troubling happening.
You stand frozen, unsure if you should say something, or if you should just leave and pretend like you didn’t see anything. But before you can make up your mind, Elvis's voice cuts through the thick air.
“What the hell do you want?” he growls, his tone sharp, and full of irritation. His eyes narrow at you, anger flickering behind them.
You jump back in surprise. “I— I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you stammer, your hands instinctively clasping together. “I just thought I should check on you, maybe—”
“Check on me?” Elvis interrupts, his voice rising. He slams his glass down on the table with a loud thud, causing you to flinch. “You’ve got no damn business checking on me! You’re here for one thing, and one thing only— to take care of Lisa. And that’s it, understand?”
His words hit you like a slap. The sharpness in his voice cuts through you, and for a moment, you can’t breathe. Your mouth opens to respond, but nothing comes out. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your body trembling under the weight of his words.
“I— I just thought I could help, but I didn't mean to see you like—” you whisper, trying to make sense of the situation.
“Help?” he spits, his words venomous. “You think I need help from you? You’re not here to ‘help’ me, darlin'. You’re here to watch my kid, to make sure she’s taken care of. You’re nothing more than a stupid nanny. Nothing more!”
The insult stings like a slap in the face. You want to argue back, to stand your ground, but it’s hard when you’re this shaken. Your breath hitches in your throat as his words cut through you, each one sinking deeper and deeper. You had hoped, naively, that you could have a more personal connection with him, but now it feels like that’s never going to happen.
Elvis stands up, towering over you, his expression twisted in anger. He steps forward, closing the distance between you. The air around you feels thick and suffocating as he grabs your arm, pulling you harshly toward the door.
“You’re not welcome here, d'ya hear me? Get the hell out of my house!” he shouts, his grip tightening around your arm as he shoves you toward the door.
The force of his push sends a shock of fear through you. You stumble back, your eyes wide with shock. “Mr.Presley, please—” you begin, but he cuts you off.
“I don’t want t'hear it! I’ve got no goddamn time for your pity, or your whining! You’re just here to look after Lisa—nothin' else! Now get out, before I make you leave!” He’s shouting now, his voice seething with fury.
Tears sting at the corners of your eyes as you struggle to regain your balance, the sting of his words cutting deep. You can’t believe this is happening. The man you’d been trying so hard to please all day, is now throwing you out of his house like you’re nothing. His hands are still gripping your arm, pushing you toward the door with alarming force.
“Please, Mr.Presley…” you beg, your voice shaky, so afraid of loosing your job the first day you got it, but he’s having none of it.
“Didn’t y'hear me?” he snarls, his face twisted in disgust. “You’re just a damn servant to me! That’s all you are. So get out of my damn house before I call security to throw you out!”
Your chest is tight with emotion as he shoves you toward the front door. You don’t have the strength to fight him. The tears you’ve been holding back fall freely now, but there’s no use. He doesn’t care.
With one last, hard push, he opens the door and practically forces you outside, slamming it shut behind you with a finality that echoes through the empty hallway.
You stand there on the doorstep, your body trembling. Your hands are shaking as you wipe your tears away, but it does nothing to stop the flood of emotions pouring out of you. How did things get so bad? Why did Elvis, the person you tried so hard to help, turn on you so cruelly?
Your mind is a mess of confusion and hurt. You had only wanted to be kind, to make things easier for Lisa, but instead, you’re treated like garbage. You had hoped that maybe, just maybe, Elvis would see the real you, see that you were trying to help him, too. But now, all you are is a nuisance in his eyes.
Hesitating for a moment, you turn and walk down the front steps. Every part of you is screaming to go back inside, to make things right, but deep down, you know it’s not going to happen. Not today. Not after the way he treated you.
You have no idea what tomorrow will bring, but as you walk away from the house, you wonder if it’s worth coming back at all.
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to be continued...
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playroom-sekaii · 23 hours ago
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do you have any fluffy/nice small mizuki headcanons after the bombshell that was mizu5? i feel so bad for them i hope they get better :(
Why of course!
(This post uses she/they pronouns for Mizuki!!)
Fluffy little Mizuki hcs 🎀
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(Oh how they deserve better...)
🩷 They love pretending to be a magical girl! Lovely Ribbon Mizu-chan is here to save her cgs and sibbies from any bad guys or monsters that may threaten them! Usually involving the monsters on the bed or when Ena decides to be the "worstest person ever" and says no more cookies since they "already had five" smh those are rookie numbers.
🩷 Most of her cg titles are sibling ones (Kanade-neechan, Ena-nee, Rui-niichan, etc), but Honami is her mama, she's everyone in Nightcord's mama, she cannot fight it /lh
🩷 Absolutely hates naps, but adores the idea of "catnaps". They'll only go down for a nap some days if their cg agrees to let them curl up in a ball on a chair, their lap, or a "cat bed" made of pillows. Sunbeams help immensely. They may or may not also be a kitty regressor that hasn't realized it yet-
🩷 That being said, for how chaotic they can be while small, they love quiet time, usually while other little ones are napping. Cuddling up close with a cg, maybe with a white noise machine or gentle music on, working on simple crafts or reading a picture book, either with them involved or just having their caregiver as a comforting presence. This especially helps when they've had a long or stressful day, they calm down immediately.
🩷 Loves claw machines, since she already loves stuffed animals while small. She's been fuzzy while walking home with Toya before and they passed an arcade, which ended in Mizuki being so impressed by "Mr. Toya's" super cool crane machine skills, since even though she loves the stuffed animals she usually needs Mafuyu or Rui to win them for her when she's small (oh, the tragedies of poor hand-eye coordination...)
🩷 They love the idea of being a cool big sister to younger regressors, just like Yuuki! They wanna help their cgs with everything they can, even if sometimes it's a bit messy (they aren't allowed to refill sippy cups on their own anymore), it's the thought that counts!
🩷 Speaking off, before telling Ena and the rest of Nightcord, the only ones that knew they were an age regressor were Rui and Yuuki, who saw them regressed a few times in middle school and helped them out before they eventually told her what it was later. She's very supportive, buying them lots of cute little gear and cging over phone or video calls when they're alone, even when their time zones get a bit wonky she'll never leave her baby sister behind.
🩷 She has a brown stuffed kitty named Enanyan. When she's big Ena gets tsuntsun about it but when Mizuki's regressed it makes her feel so happy, like, woah she's actually doing good as a cg-
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qtubbo · 1 year ago
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Really getting hit with the innate urgue to play lego fortnite now I don’t even think it works on any of my devices
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triglycercule · 2 months ago
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i love doodling swapinverse like hello drawing characters aside from the normal mtt is lowkey therapeutic 🧡🧡🧡 anyways i FINALLY FINALLY finished crash's lore!!!! and vice.SER is connected to him,,,, theyre interconnected!!! i forgot how much i liked crash's design (not the design but all the little gimmicks in the design. figuring out all the hanging ribbon bits is annoying but hey it looks good)
#outertale does not exist in swapinverse anymore. how quaint#dude thalia and melpomene are th only ones that r like. 100% good#I NEED TO MAKE MORE GOOD AND NICE CHARACTERS😭😭😭😭#mst..... recreators (qip name 4 siphon n crash?) and vice.SER........ theyre all EVIL (or have evil goals)#i WAS thinking doing something with reaper because i adore his design and aesthetic and i wanna combine it with SOMETHING idk what#anyways if core frisk error which is supposed to be vice.SER exists then should normal core frisk exist too?????#i mean i dont think that just because a core frisk role esque person exists doesnt mean the role is instantly filled up#the mst and mtt co exist in swapinverse but those 3 are like.... NORMAL aus. not outcodss n stuff#i love the giant lance thing i gave crash. i mean the ribbons can form any weapon and take any shape (kinda like puella magi mami's guns)#but like..... it just is so cool i love characters that use multiple weapons#i LOVE (haha) every single little gimmick thing i give swapinverse characters. the tiny details is what i adore giving them#if you catch me not posting 4 a bit its probably just bc im working on swapinverse or jk fashion au. or maybe ive seriously just lost motiva#anyways i have a few banger rants in my drafts ive yet to elaborate om but just like....... i dont feel like it#someon needs to wrangle those posts out of my tired lazy arms#lowkey why do siphon and crash remind me of kanade and mafuyu. idk i cant explain#if you cut vice.ser in half it would be like jelly with binary in it. i wanna eat him#he would tingle on my tongue but thats just the static. eating yhe glasses would be difficult bit they dont have lenses so its ok#i drew them both looking at us but i think that vice.ser is the only true one always looking at US.looking out from inside#god i love swapinverse sooo much i wish i could get it done faster and be goatedly good with motivation. a shame#but i do think that i may be finishing up the character descriptions 500% ish sure#SO THEN THAT MEANS I CAN WORK ON THE ACTUAL STORY!!!! WOOOOO#ive already decided that theres gonna be mentions of me myself and i in it. i love meta storytelling#im cursed with perpetually sweaty hands i hate having to draw on slighty damp paper. nobody understands me#UGH im getting too happy in life im starting to act weird in public and offering to help people. i need to stop#anyways just school doodles!!! because in the period where they take our phones i have naught to do but draw#i need to get back (start) my english reading. and then help my friend with a few questions on her homework. how joyous#and then i can get back to my BETTER homework (working on swapinverse :3)#crash managed to destroy outertale in his lore i wonder how many worlds vice.SER will destroy#actually if hes supposed to be core frisk error then i should make him NOT destroy worlds right???? right#tricule rant
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love-songs-for-emma · 1 year ago
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they say that "time heals all wounds" but i honestly think that upping my anti-depressants has done more for me
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thecherrygod · 5 months ago
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icewindandboringhorror · 1 year ago
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Other Misc. Rambling Thoughts on the topic:
(~ !!!!!!!!! if you're just reblogging this post for the Poll section, please reblog the original post without this addition* lol. ~)
(*not that there's anything super personal or weird about the addition, just that it's meant to be kind of casual Side Commentary, not really part of the Main Point Of The Poll, so it would feel kind of weird for it to be emphasized by being included in reblogs unless the reblogs were explicitly about the side commentary, etc..... if that makes sense.. ANYWAY!)
It's neat to read the written descriptions that people are mentioning in the tags, since it's almost like I can see or conceptualize the idea as well, but it's just.. I'm not SEEING it.
Like for example: I can imagine a vase, it's a muted mint green and slightly translucent, elaborate golden birds sprawled down the side in streaks of thin rough watery paint, the base material shimmers gently in the light, there's a small chip where it's cracked on the handle, etc, etc. .. But as I'm thinking about this I see literally nothing.
It seems like perhaps some people can visualize an object first, and THEN describe what they see. But I sort of work backwards. I am building the object in my mind, I can never see it, but it's a collection of concepts. Rather than visualizing all details as a whole at once, I am adding each detail one by one, building onto the IDEA of the thing.
The vase doesn't have a crack on the handle because I just automatically visualized a vase with a crack. It was more that I cognitively understand the concept of a vase, what they tend to be made out of, how they tend to look and feel, the properties they have. So based purely on that knowledge, I can imagine "a chip is something that a vase could have, it would look this way and behave this way" - more like... I'm constructing a bullet point Fact List about the object rather than seeing it.
So if you tell me to imagine an object, I can, in a way, imagine that object in great detail, but it's just.. I'm not SEEING those details, more just knowing it's qualities in a purely conceptual way. Sometimes in the tags when people are like "yeah I can see the skin of the apple, texture, little dots on the surface" it's like… I can imagine that too, I can know it's there, but just with no visual attached.
I guess rather than SEEING something and going ''ah. I know what this looks like because I have seen it''. I more just skip that visual step entirely and go ''I know what this looks like, I just randomly have a list of information about the concept in my mind.'' etc. Maybe similar to how sometimes in dreams, even though a house may look completely different and be in an entirely fake 'dreamlike' environment, you just somehow KNOW intuitively that it's meant to be your childhood home or something. Even when it looks nothing like it in reality. There's a built-in base knowledge of the properties or information of some things within a dreaming mind, etc.
--
This also makes me wonder about like.. how storytelling and myth is so important to cultures all across time. Or how this could tie also into concepts of religion.. etc. etc. If so many people really can kind of conjure these vivid images in their mind, then maybe that's part of why certain things are so meaningful to them? Like a "religious experience" being something you can actually really SEE/feel/lingering with you in your head, rather than just abstract words on a page, detached purely theoretical ideas, etc... hmmm
.
Plus also just for average emotional stuff too, even outside of broader cultural conceptual attachments..
Like, I don't think there's a direct 1 to 1 link (obviously not all people with mental illnesses that significantly reduce their emotional or expressive capacity also MUST have aphantasia or vice versa), but it's interesting as someone who DOES also have a much more lessened emotional range/pretty flat affect/etc. etc. to think like.. Maybe I WOULD be more emotional, in a way, if I could have these vivid experiences..?
Perhaps memories would hold deeper significance if they could really stay with me vividly. Or storytelling would evoke more of a deep emotional reaction to me if I could really picture and feel the things that are going on. If things were more TANGIBLE in my brain, rather than always merely conceptual highly abstracted ideas.
Kind of like, it's probably easier to get over the death of a pet or something, if after not seeing them for an hour you already don't remember what they looked like (beyond just a vague fact list of traits), and you have no vivid memories or mental reminders of them (beyond just factual information stores). COGNTIVIELY you can appreciate the idea of their absence, of course, you still miss them, but there's just no remaining visceral sensory ties. A very "out of sight, out of mind" sort of thing in terms of attachments, memories, emotions, etc. Maybe certain things are easier to "get over", when you're not having constant mental sensory reminders that occasionally rekindle your feelings about the event or etc.??
(like for example, maybe someone could remain angry about an argument longer if they could vividly replay it in their head over and over again. VS just like.. 'Yes I can factually recall the fact I had an argument, and I do have knowledge stored about what precisely was said, but any sort of sensory data such as sights/smells/feelings, etc. from the actual moment of the event are long gone and can never be conjured again in my mind." etc.)
Which again, I think lessened emotional permanence and image permanence in the mind are NOT inherently linked, can all be caused by different things for different people. And, since I can't visualize anything in my head, maybe I'm misunderstanding how it happens and the effect it may have on stuff like remembering things you miss or replaying arguments, etc. etc. But it's still a little interesting to think about, if they could influence each other to some degree.... :0c --
Lastly, It's also weird because I'm actually pretty good at estimating distance and spaces? I can quickly assemble furniture without an instruction manual, pretty easily have a concept of how much space a chair may take up in a room, how two mechanical parts might fit together - BUT, I am literally not actually visualizing anything. I cannot see 3D objects in my mind at ALL. It's like.. just based on the pure List Of Facts About Things Which I Have Observed.. I can intuitively go "oh this works like this/this is this size" just because.. I know it's that size. I don't have to see anything to know..?
But then on the other hand, I'm terrible at directions without a map (I guess because a 3d outdoor environment has WAY more complexity than like.. "Will this square fit into another square?"etc. lol ).
BUT, I also draw/sculpt/etc. entirely without references, and seem to do mostly okay at that..? Like.. I can't even remember the last time I actually used a reference or looked at anything whilst drawing. It's all muscle memory, and me just adjusting as I go until something "looks right" on paper, I never have a set image in my head (or external reference) before hand.. Hrmm....
AND.. I used to say that I had a photographic memory when I was younger, which I know NOW is not true (I always thought it was just an expression, not that people could literally see things in a photographic way). But what I was describing is, I do often associate information with imagery, just... without imagery....
Like "Oh, I know that I took my medicine earlier today because I have a distinct memory, a snapshot of a moment in time, of me rattling the pill bottle in my hands as I looked up at a stop sign while in the back seat of a car". When I say this, I can't ACTUALLY see/feel/hear a pill bottle, or vividly picture a stop sign, but it's more just a factual recall, of. Even though I don't see these things, I know they happened, the information of them happening (me hearing a sound and also looking at a stop sign at the same time) has been stored in my brain as a memory, a collection of linked facts. --
As for other senses, I cannot taste or feel anything in my head AT ALL.. wild that some people mention that. I mean, again, I can have a purely factual recall as if reading a textbook, knowing the information of 'X item typically has X texture, therefore I can imagine what it may be like to feel it' or 'X usually has this taste' etc. - but I can never actually experience those senses in any capacity in my mind alone. I would say audio is my strongest mental sense (maybe a 2.5 or 3 (if it were translated onto the above scale where 1 is most vivid and 5 is nothing)), then visual (4.5 at most, usually 5), and then taste and smell and such are just complete 5, absolutely nothing, I didn't even know people could experience taste or feeling just in their mind alone.. lol...
I know this is just a silly bad quality random screencap of a screencap that I found on facebook lol, BUT it's a succinct enough image to easily describe the concept in a quick/accessible way hopefully :
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(and of course, feel free to elaborate in tags, etc.! (especially elaborating about other senses as well.. can you "hear" in your mind just as well as you can "see"? taste? etc.) It's an interesting topic to me, as someone who's like a 4.5 at MOST lol. I'm curious what option will be the most common :0c )
#repeat reblog#Hrmm.... this must be why you all like reading books so much lol… option 5.. so few of us…#Also I wonder if this is why I'm a more detail oriented writer. Like if I was making a story I would first have to plot out information#about the location. draw a map of the room the chararcters are in. sketch the characters. their outfits. do a lot of plotting and planning#about how the world and the setting works and what plants might be there and so on and so forth. Because I'm working#more from a factual knowledge base of like 'bullet point list of things I know about this setting/object/person/etc'#rather than actually just being able to see it in my mind. So to really conceptualize a person/place/thing - I have to build it#from the ground up conceptually. Gathering and organizing all the information about it until I have a Full Mental Concept of it - and THEN#I can work with it from there. But maybe someone who just Pictures all that in their brain from the beginning can kind of skip that step.#Like for example I literally have NO idea what any of my characters look like until I draw them. I have to actively decide what they look#like and think about all of those details and create the List Of Factual Information (black hair. green eyes. this tall. etc.) from scratch#. where the friend I talked to on the phone recently said that they literally just like... picture the character. like they just SEE them#doing stuff and know from there. And of course i have an IDEA of what I may want a characters appearnce to be or properties that would suit#them based on their Concept and Personality. but I literally do not know. And even when writing or thinking about characters doing things#I cannot visualize them no matter how hard I try. It's all theoretical factual recall for me. Also my friend said that to THEM the saying#''the characters write themselves'' was interpreted to mean.. they can literally sit down & watch the characters do things and it's as#if they are just creating a story in their mind from thin air. it writes itself. Where for ME I have always interpreted it to mean ''I have#undertaken the process of analyzing and plotting every detail of this character SO deeply that I know them SO well down to even#how they would walk or hold a pencil. and thus because I have such an intimate understanding of every intricacy of their personality. It's#extremely easy to just Put Them Into A Situation and assume exactly how they'd react/ exactly what they'd say because based#on what has factually been determined about them and their personality/worldview/etc. it's just.. literally automatic. The same way that#if you knew a friend's preferences extremely well you could probably easily predict how they'd respond to a birthday gift'' etc.#hmm.. ANYWAY... Which my friend may be an extreme example. I feel like it'd be obvious even for writers without aphantasia to STILL sit#down and plot out details & intimately understand their characters/setting/etc. But the idea that for ANYONE it's like ''yeah I dont have t#think much about designing the layout of a room/place/etc. I just kind of SEE it in my mind and know automatically''.... wild... lol#It makes it seem like I'm always having to do like 500 tons of extra work that other people can just skip .. oughh#''well after writing them for a YEAR and fully conceptualizing their personality and going through 15 sketch drafts. i have FINALLY#decided on an appearance for my character'' ... ''erm.. i have been seeing my character since day 1.. what do you mean?'' ... lol#ANYWAY.. and thank you to those who have sent in asks abt your experiences.. very inchresting.. sorry not posting/responding yet since im#still a bit sick feeling and energy is very scattered/low social ability/etc... even this post i typed over the course of days lol..
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luveline · 10 months ago
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𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem
cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky. 
You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely. 
Total quiet. 
“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?” 
“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?” 
“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?” 
“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…” 
“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?” 
“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” 
“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.” 
He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh. 
“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated. 
Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry. 
“Spencer?” you ask quietly. 
“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?” 
“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?” 
“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups. 
“Where are you?” 
After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him. 
He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.” 
Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?” 
“Where was I?” 
“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed. 
“Still where?” 
“Did you hit your head?” 
“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.” 
“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk. 
“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.” 
“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.” 
“…What?” 
You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.” 
“I annoy people.” 
“You don’t annoy me.” 
You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here. 
You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?” 
“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection. 
“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?” 
“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly. 
“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.” 
“Am I in trouble?” 
“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?” 
“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.” 
“Hi Milly,” a new voice says. 
You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room. 
Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark. 
You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly. 
“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!” 
His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer. 
“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask. 
You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again. 
“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.” 
He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath. 
“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers. 
“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger. 
“I missed you.” 
“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year. 
He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.” 
“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.” 
“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.” 
You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”
“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!” 
You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.
Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity. 
“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek. 
“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.” 
You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly. 
“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says. 
“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway. 
“I don’t want to be alone forever.” 
“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates? 
In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess. 
You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?” 
“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”
His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.” 
“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol. 
“She kind of looked like you.” 
You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.” 
“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” 
“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”
“I know,” he says. 
“Do you?” 
“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” 
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” 
“Is that why you make all your jokes?” 
“What jokes, babe?” 
“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” 
You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” 
“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.” 
“Spencer, you remember everything.” 
He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” 
You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. 
You’re happy to. 
“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”
“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 
“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse. 
“You look so cute,” he says mournfully. 
You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally. 
“Can I come home with you?” he asks. 
That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.” 
— — 
Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.” 
“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.” 
“So you want three?” 
He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.” 
Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time. 
You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?” 
He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him. 
You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory. 
He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that. 
The avocado is making him feel sick. 
“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?” 
“I think I'm gonna throw up.” 
“You’re okay.”
“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes. 
You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button. 
“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 
He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.” 
“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.” 
Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”
“But it’s you.” 
“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”
“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now. 
You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.
But you’re perfect, he’d said. 
To you. And you’re perfect to me.
“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say. 
You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again. 
You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.” 
He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. 
The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…
“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask. 
Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.” 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️
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simpjaes · 8 months ago
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EROTIC EMPATHY (s.jy)
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Have you ever taken anyone’s virginity before? Nope. Are you about to? Yep. or the one where jake has a streak of bad luck in bed and his friends make fun of him for it, you find him advertising himself on a dating app and decide to help him out. 
minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it
WORDCOUNT― 12.7k
PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader 
CONTENT― virgin guy who lives with his parents!jake, he’s not shy but he is very clumsy, a lot of texting so be prepared for that, facetime-sex, real life sex
SIDE CHARACTERS― jay as reader’s best friend and roommate, heeseung briefly as jake’s friend.
NOTE― if you've read this before it's because im the person who wrote it [ncteez] and im revamping it for jake, pls don't send me messages on either account about stealing a work that's already mine!
smut tags under cut:: 
smut tags―big huge dick jake, phone sex (ish), face time sex,  masturbation, pet name: baby, making out, he eats you out twice, fingering, whining and whimpering, deep throating, premature ejaculation, desperate man wants his dick wet lmao, grinding, tit fondling/licking, clit stimulation, he bites the fuck out of his tongue to try and distract himself from coming too soon again,  no condom aka cream pie, jake gets feelings like immediately when u touch him
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Check this shit out,” you laugh, presenting your phone to Jay with a chuckle. “yes or no?”
Jay snorts, nearly spitting out the bite of food in his mouth as he reads the bio of the man you’re showing to him.
“Depends, you trying to take his innocence or are you trying to get railed so hard that the entire building can hear?” He narrows his eyes at you, making a point to call you out for keeping him awake last weekend. 
You wave him off with an apologetic look. To be fair, the dude from before knew how to make a girl moan, it’s not your fault that you managed to find a decent lay in this city. Even if he ghosted you, you assume you may have been a bad lay for him, if anything. 
“I wouldn’t mind trying something new, dude seems desperate.” You swipe through his photos, seeing that he appears to be just a normal dude with normal interests. “He’s cute too, so I’m gonna say yes.”
Jay groans this time, slapping a hand to his forehead and glaring at you. 
“You’d better warn me if you end up bringing him home, I’m not about to listen to some guy start crying over a blowjob.”
You nod to him, sending a message to the eighty-two-year-old Jake and feeling delighted at his near-instant response to you. 
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure you’re out of the apartment if I invite him over,” You wiggle your brows as you stand to your feet and turn toward your room, eyes now glued to the open dating app’s messages. “Maybe you should go out and find a nice girl to rail to get back at me.”
“You’re so fucking weird.” Jay laughs but feels kind of shitty because it’s not like he hasn’t been trying to get back at you for the loud sex. Guess he just doesn’t have the magic dick to make girls moan the same way you do.
Not that he wants to make you moan or anything, he definitely doesn’t. If anything, he wishes you were more like the girls he brings home.
Fucking quiet.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You: i’ve never seen a virgin grandpa on this app before 
Jake: ….i’m 21, it says that in my bio
You: I think you’re lying. 
Jake: do u know how to change it, my bitch friends won't tell me lol
You: why would i help you lie to other women
Jake: i’m not lying!!1
You laugh to yourself as you text the new sex interest in your life, wondering if he’s lying about his presumed virginity. 
You: ok, twenty-one-year-old “jaeyun” who is five miles away from me, you’re actually a virgin? Like for real?
Jake: yea….are u here to make fun of me for it too? all the girls here just turn me down even if i offer to cook for them after
Jake: maybe it's the playlists idk
You: send me the playlist
Jake: [spotify link to a playlist titled “NUT”] 
You try not to snort, but you do. Given, he does have decent taste, but why anyone would have dynamite by bts and never say never by justin bieber on their sex playlist is beyond you. 
You: surely it’s not your playlist…….
You: anyway
You: you’re really just looking to get laid for the first time, like, ever? and you’re offering to cook dinner too?
Jake: yea
You: you’ve never had a blowjob or anything like that? you can’t seriously think I can believe you’ve never been laid, it’s not like you’re ugly or anything
Jake: u don’t think im ugly? :) 
Jake: and yea I’ve had a blowjob before
You: why didn’t you sleep with her then?
Jake: can we stop talking about why im a virgin
You: sure but you know im gonna bring it up again, right?
You’re smiling at your phone, finding him charming and awkward in how he communicates with you via messenger. Of course, you’re curious as to why he’s a virgin, even more, curious as to why he’s on a dating app looking to lose said virginity. 
You: do you want my number? it’s embarrassing to have the app open in public if i wanna talk to you.
Jake, on the other hand, is quite literally kicking his feet and checking your profile every few minutes just to look at you. He didn’t even think too hard about you calling him attractive then not following up on it, because the fact that you just offered your number to him in case you want to talk to him? Butterflies. Given, it’s juvenile for someone of his age to still be experiencing the typical high-school crush feelings, would anyone blame him? It’s just how he is, with or without having had sex. He can’t imagine not feeling giddy inside when he’s talking to someone that he thinks is pretty. 
Jake: yea :) u can text me whenever [redacted phone number] 
You respond to him by texting his number rather than using the app messenger, screenshotting his contact info, and sending it to him with a sly smile. 
You: [screen shot// contact name: grandpa jake] 
Grandpa Jake: :| 
Grandpa Jake: im 21
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Okay so, here’s the thing. Jake is undeniably funny, witty, and kind. Another thing, he’s wildly attractive. Especially upon fulfilling your request for a workout selfie from him. So, what gives? You read the texts he’s sent that made you laugh out loud, you look at his pictures, stare at the workout selfie, and you genuinely cannot understand how he doesn’t have women waiting in line to have at him. 
You: it’s been like four days since we started talking
Grandpa Jake: yep, almost five
You: four days of being friends but no mention of your bio on the app, yknow, where you’re begging to have sex for the first time ever?
Grandpa Jake: right, yea. you wanna do it? i didn’t wanna assume lol
You: not answering that til you explain why. i mean, it’s totally ok that you are but like, you’re a green flag all around so im a little worried you might have like a micropenis or something
Disclaimer, if he had a micropenis, you’d still let him use it on you. After all, hooking up is something you enjoy doing regardless of size.
Grandpa Jake: i do NOT have a micropenis
You: prove it
Grandpa Jake: right now???
You laugh to yourself but also like, it’s the first time the two of you have done anything more than bully each other. Or rather, you bully him and he defends himself constantly. 
You: answer my question first
It takes a few minutes for him to respond, but you’re doing coursework anyway so it’s not a huge deal. Totally not like your ears perk up and a smile creeps across your face every time your phone goes off or anything. Definitely not. 
Grandpa Jake: um… i still live with my parents and before u make fun of me for that pls understand that its not like i wanna be here 
Grandpa Jake: i have a job and everything!!! im not a mooch!
He’s getting off track again. You could honestly care less if he still lives with his parents. You wish you still lived with yours, to save money at least. 
You: they won’t let you have anyone over? 
Grandpa Jake: well, that too but 
Grandpa Jake: listen this sounds real stupid but it just never happened? even when i tried or things almost happened, it never did
You: damn, you’re unlucky. so what happened with the girl who gave you a blowjob?
Grandpa Jake: her boyfriend walked in
You: WHAT
You’re trying to pity him, honestly, but damn. Did he go for a taken girl? Yikes. You hate to admit the ick that just flooded your mind. 
Grandpa Jake: its not like i knew she had a boyfriend
You: phew 
Grandpa Jake: so yea. do u wanna help me out or not? 
The whole reason you started talking to him was specifically to help him out. Now that you know he’s not some weirdo, and is definitely super hot and funny, hell yes. 
You: yeah, sure. 
You: about the micropenis though, 
Grandpa Jake: right…um
A few minutes of silence, your coursework is long forgotten in the anticipation of receiving your first dick pic from Jake. You wait, and you wait, and you wait.
You: i mean if you can’t prove it that's ok 
Grandpa Jake:  just give me a sec damn
He’s doing his best to get the most attractive angle. It’s not like he’s never sent nudes to anyone or anything, but like– this is you. The first person to actually agree to take his virginity. Should he hold it? Put a remote next to it for size? Should he have his face in the pic? Take a mirror pic? 
Of course, as he’s taking several pictures of his length to try and impress you, he had to get hard first. He can’t imagine you’d want a flaccid cock pic in your inbox, and that would also mean that he’s working himself up with the amount of touching, holding, and groping throughout the past sixteen photos he’s taken and deleted. It’s at the point that now it’s actually hard to care about taking a photo, pre-cum already dripping out of him as he continues to try.
He’s entered the realm of his regular horny self, only this time he’s texting you. Someone who wants to see what he’s packing. Taking a dick pic is insanely easy once he stops thinking with his brain, and he’s quick to send you a photo of himself this time. His chin at the top of the picture, face entirely hidden, hand wrapped around his thick and leaking cock, sweatpants shoved down. 
Grandpa Jake: [image attachment] 
In all fairness, you’ve never actually cared much for dick pics. Men always look too confident even with the smallest of girth being offered through the pixels. Jake though. He looks a bit desperate even with his face hidden. His cock looks desperate, his fingers wrapped around it look desperate, the way his sweatpants hug against his thighs look desperate. And now, you feel desperate. You keep your cool though.
You: oh, you were jerking off, got it. 
Grandpa Jake: sorry can’t help it 
Then he doesn’t text you back. Which is kind of a drag because he looks to be quite big in the photo alone. Maybe you’d be okay just this once to look like the desperate one. Mostly because you’re about ten seconds from trying to figure out which direction five miles away he resides so you can go palm his cock for him. Plus, the idea of an absolute simp virgin like him seeing you act a little desperate would probably be one for the books. 
You: you know i can help you out with that, right? especially since you definitely don’t have a micropenis
You’re still being ignored. The silence from your phone makes your belly flip around inside of you at the image of him doing it too. He probably does it a lot. He’s probably desperate to feel good and watches porn like 24/7. You can imagine how he’d act if you were in front of him right now, the very idea of taking his virginity becoming entirely too attractive.
Shrugging, knowing full well what he’s doing right now that’s causing him to ignore you, you press the call button and wait. You’re a little bit nervous, mostly because you’ve never actually heard his voice before, or better yet how he sounds when he’s getting off. You’re shocked that he actually answers. 
“Hello?” He says, muffled through the phone and trying to sound not-so-out-of-breath. It’s not like he looked at who was calling him anyway. With his luck, it’s probably Heeseung or some shit.
“Don’t hello me,” You gripe, narrowing your eyes at yourself in your mirror. “You’re just gonna jerk off without me after I agreed to help you fix your little problem?” 
The silence on his end is a bit nerve-wracking until you hear the frantic sound of his palm clearly wreaking havoc on him. You smirk, leaning back on your chair and sighing. On his end, processing that it’s you on the other line sends his entire body into a state of burning with arousal. Your voice is sweet even when you speak with the same sarcasm as you do via text. 
God, this alone is enough for him right now. 
“Were you at least thinking of me?”
He hums into the phone, indicating that yes, that’s exactly what he’s doing. His voice is kind of soft despite only hearing one word and a hum, you want to actually hear him talk to you, or moan, whichever he decides. 
“Were you looking at my pictures?”
He nods his head, forgetting that you’re not able to see him and instantly responds with a small and breathy yes instead. It’s a bit difficult for him to talk right now, especially now that he can put a voice to the photos he’s been jerking off to. It’s a bit overwhelming, actually.
“Do you want better ones?” You ask, encouraging him to speak a bit more. 
“Oh god, really?” He asks through the speaker, his hand pausing on his length as if to hold off until you confirm. “Like, nudes?”
“Mhm, yeah. If you want.” You smile as you speak to him, already standing to shimmy your pajamas off of you and stand in front of the mirror. “Or, you know what would be better?”
“Letting me come over and actually do it?” That’s what he wants to say to you, but he doesn’t, he simply raises a brow and bites his lip, trying to contain his excitement.
“What?” He asks, still keeping his responses short because despite how into this he is, he’s a bit shy about it. 
“I can facetime you.” 
He panics. That means you’ll be watching him too, right? Sure he’s sent nudes, he’s received nudes. He’s sent videos too, and received them. But never has he like, you know, live masturbated on facetime so someone else can watch. 
“If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” You backtrack at his silence, but you’re cut off almost immediately. 
“No! no, we can facetime–”
Your stomach flips again as you fix yourself quickly in the mirror before setting your phone against your desk and rolling back a bit in your chair to determine if it’ll work this way or not. It’s not like he’s expecting you to do it too, he probably just thinks you’re gonna sit here naked for him to stare at. You’re kind of excited to see him in action, to hear him in action for you.
You hit the button to switch the call over to facetime and once again adjust your phone as you stare at yourself in the camera. Then you’re needing to catch your breath at the image of him.
Oh fuck.
There he is, his camera angled towards his face and not at all toward what's going on below his waist, but you don’t mind at first. Looking at him, the lighting clearly shows that he’s a fan of mood lighting. You watch his eyes briefly, staring through the screen at you before moving your eyes to his arm, the one that clearly isn’t holding his phone because you can see it moving as he continues to jerk himself off. It’s an interesting feeling to have only seen him in photos until this moment, and it’s insanely attractive for some reason. Seeing him in motion, knowing what he’s doing, knowing that he feels good right now because of you.
“Let me see,” you say quietly, adjusting your bra strap and preparing to slip it off of you if he so much as asks. “Prop your phone up somewhere like I did.”
He nods, his eyes still staring straight through his screen at you as he moves around and the image becomes a blur of movement rather than his face. He settles in quickly, somehow looking even more attractive with the way his eyes no longer stare at the screen. You can almost sense a hint of shyness from him at this moment and it kind of floors you, given how easy he is to talk to and how easily he sent a dick pic to you.
“Feeling shy?” You ask, spreading your legs wide and cupping the seat of your panties, hiding the small spot of wetness forming there. “You act like I’m not going to be touching you at some point soon.”
You see him perk up, his eyes looking to you on the screen with more fondness than arousal. At the same time, his hand grips the base of his cock as he holds it straight up, erect and glistening proudly for you to look at. 
“You look pretty big, bet you could fill me up so nicely,” You try to compliment, boosting his confidence and ego as best you can simply because he looks pretty with a smile on his face. Especially when his cock twitches at the words. “Would you want to do that for me, Jake?”
“Oh god,” He groans, hearing his name come from your mouth for the first time. His hand jerks up his length once, almost aggressively as he winces at it. “This is going to be so embarrassing.” He admits now, sliding his palm up and down shamelessly as he watches between your spread legs. 
In a way, he wonders if you can see how desperate he is. There’s no way you can’t, right? Like, you can see how badly he wants you, right?
“Embarrassing, why?” You chuckle, tapping now at the spot between your legs. “Can you not see that I’m just as turned on right now?”
He groans again with deep breaths, releasing his length and using that same hand to swipe his hair out of his face, then immediately grimacing at the fact that he now has pre-cum in his hair. Embarrassing, all of it. 
“Well,” He tries to avoid you bringing up the fact that he just did that and only shoots his hand back to his cock in order to distract whatever off-hand shit you’re about to say. “You don’t even have your panties off yet, and I could probably get off right now.”
You laugh, not wanting to ruin the mood with the whole cum on his own face thing, so you save that for later. Instead, you instantly slip your panties off and present yourself to him much like he’s doing for you. 
“Better?”
Jake watched with his breath stuck in his throat, now finding it harder to breathe at the image of your pussy and the way he hopes he can touch it one day. 
“Can you–” He pauses, not being used to dirty talk towards anything other than the porn playing on his phone. He thinks hard, and you can see it based on the way he, once again, neglects his cock with an unmoving palm.
“Can I do what?  Go on,” You urge him, running a hand up to your chest and fondling your nipples right there in front of him, but not yet moving the fabric. “What do you want me to do for you, baby?”
Baby. You called him baby. Not that he’s into that but the fact that you did it makes him wonder if he is now. Maybe it’s because he wants you to take him for all he’s worth at this point. One, to get rid of the virginity looming over his head, and two, because you sound so fucking smooth when you’re watching him get off. 
“Can you spread your pussy for me?” He whispers at first, uncaring of how dirty it sounds falling out of his throat with a moan. 
His eyes are boring a hole through his screen as he watches one of your hands tease at your hidden nipples, and the other hand sliding up and down the wet folds there. So badly does he want to see it. He wants to see your hole pulsing for him, leaking, needy. Just like him.
His cock twitches wildly the second you do it for him. Two fingers spreading your pussy open and tensing your hips just to move it closer to the screen for him. 
“Is this what you want?” You start, making damn sure he can see every part of your glistening cunt. “You want to fuck this?” You chuckle now, slowly dipping a finger into yourself and pulling it back out to present the wetness for him.
“Oh,” he sighs, now fucking into his fist at a pace that proves he’s most definitely never fucked a woman before. “Fuck.”
You nod at him, urging him to keep admitting his attraction to you. You’re aware he doesn’t see it though, as his hips continue to move quicker and quicker each time you press your finger into yourself. 
“You gonna act like this when I’m riding you?” You ask with a tilted head, studying how hard he’s fucking against his hand. You can imagine how good it would feel if it were you, and quite frankly, this one finger isn’t enough at this point. 
“God. You’re gonna ride me?” He moans, eyes rolling only slightly as he imagines it, mouth falling open at the mere thought of it. 
“Mhm,” you hum, now sliding in another finger and scissoring yourself open with them. “Would you want that?”
Before you can even work yourself up, and before he can even answer that question, you see him release. His cum shooting out in spurts across his stomach and nearly up to his chest. His labored breathing shifts the lighting against his abs and makes him look so entirely delicious. You’ve never wanted to lick a man clean so badly in your life.
You’re not even upset that he didn’t make it into the knitty gritty, considering he’s a virgin and all and you’re literally fucking yourself in front of him while implying riding him. You’re actually flattered. 
His release caused him to see white for several moments, forgetting he’s even on camera for you. When he comes back to reality, watching you continue to finger yourself as your eyes scan your screen, all he can do is feel bashful. 
“S-shit, sorry,” He comments with a half laugh, looking down at his cum covered chest before looking at you again. Honestly, he could probably go again if you let him watch for a bit longer, but he’s embarrassed now. “I uh, didn’t mean to come that fast. It just kind of happened.”
“It’s okay,” You comfort him, slightly out of breath as you wonder if this is all you’re gonna get tonight. “It was cute.”
After a few moments, you sense his embarrassment and slowly slip yourself back into a sobering headspace, closing your legs and trying to ignore how wet you still are.
“Are you, um, done?” Jake says, disappointed.
“Mm, no.” You smile. “But it’s okay, I’d rather make you come first anyway.”
His face lights up despite the disappointment in his gut of not being able to see you get off. 
“You still wanna see me after this?”
You nod with a smile, endeared by his need to give, but inability to do it.
“When are you free?” You ask, wondering if he’s ever going to clean himself up. 
“Whenever you are.” He laughs, scratching the back of his head with, once again, the same cum-stained hand. 
“I’ll text you later then,” You smile through the screen and give a small wave before your genuine smile turns into a smirk. “After I take care of my little problem though.”
You notice him sitting up in protest, but you hang up with a satisfied laugh and head to the shower to both finish yourself off and clean up.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Grandpa Jake: what about 3pm on thurs?
You: you want to lose your virginity at 3pm….on a thursday???
Grandpa Jake: my parents have plans so ill have the house to myself for a few hours
You: or you could just come here? 
Grandpa Jake: if ur comfortable with that? i thought u were supposed to come here lol
You: im comfortable, plus my roommate will kick your ass if you’re weird
Jake contemplates hard on that last part but shrugs over it. Probably a girl thing, and it’s not like he’s an actual creep or anything. You’d be the one with power over him when the two of you are alone anyway. 
You: what about tomorrow, 8pm? 
Tomorrow. Hell yeah, tomorrow. God, he’d show up right the fuck now if you let him. He may live with his parents but he’s got a car. 
Grandpa Jake: send ur address, ill be there :) 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Tomorrow, you’ll be a man.” Heeseung croaks through the speaker at Jake, totally assuming that this whole virginity loss dating app plan was actually just a joke. 
“Why do you have to say it that way?” Jake groans back, slapping his hand over his forehead and rubbing his temples. “I didn’t think anyone was actually gonna come through, she’s the first one.”
“What makes you think she’s actually gonna send you her address?” Heeseung laughs, once again placing more pity onto his best friend than anything else. “She’s probably not even a real person, you’re gonna end up at some old guy’s house.”
Jake laughs, or snorts really. 
“Oh, she’s real.”
Heeseung sits up in curiosity this time, switching his phone to the other ear with interest. 
“Hm? Have you already met her?”
“Kind of. We like, um,” Jake pauses, wondering if he sounds way too excited to tell him or not. “We facetimed a few hours ago.”
Silence.
“She got naked.”
“Oh ho ho!” Heeseung encourages him. “So you guys did some stuff on facetime and she still wants to meet you?” 
“That’s what I said–wait,” Jake smiles to himself, about two seconds from kicking his feet before realizing what Heeseung just said. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 
“You’re kind of a loser, we’ve been over this.” Heeseung laughs yet again. “Call me when you get your cherry popped or whatever.”
Then he hangs up. 
Grandpa Jake: do u think im a loser?
You: yeah kinda
You’re laughing at his text as you sit across the table from Jay.
“That him texting?” Jay quirks a brow, watching you smile at your phone and practically ignore him. 
You laugh again at Jake’s string of defensive texts before responding with a short “it’s okay, i like losers”, and putting your phone down to finish telling Jay that he’s gonna get kicked out tomorrow for the night. 
“So,” You clap your hands in front of yourself, glaring at Jay. “You’re gonna have to be gone tomorrow at eight because I'm about to literally obliterate this guy.”
“Jesus, I’m scared for him.”
“You should be scared for me. Because, well…” You trail off for a second, scrolling up your texts to see the dick pic Jake sent before the facetime call. “He’s huge and–”
“I did not need to know that.” Jay sighs, scooting back in his chair and standing to his feet. 
“You act like you don’t ask every time I fuck someone.” You roll your eyes at him, smiling. “Weirdo.”
Jay stands there awkwardly before shrugging and lunging for your phone. 
“How big?” He laughs, not actually trying to see the dude’s dick but always way too curious for his own good despite never wanting to be around to hear what the big dicks do to his best friend. 
“Stop prying, you’ll get jealous.”
He scoffs, brushing off his pants of invisible dust and crossing his arms. 
“I’ll have you know, my dick is perfectly sized.”
“I’m sure it is. Anyway, tomorrow, be gone.” 
He nods, sauntering to the living room and flopping down on the couch. 
“Keep it in your room, please. I don’t want to sit on any cum when I get home.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
It’s Thursday. It’s approximately seven in the evening on Thursday and you’re well aware that Jake is probably bubbling with anxiety if his texts are anything to go by. 
So many “are you sures,” so many “you can tell me to leave if you decide you don’t want tos,” and even more “i can’t wait to see yous.”
“Jay, aren’t you supposed to be leaving?” You ask, opening the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. 
You’ve already showered again today, primped yourself up for him really. Everything smooth, soft, and ready to be touched. You wonder if Jake is doing the same, and smile.
“Hm, yeah. But I kinda wanna see him before I leave.”
You turn your head to him with a curious look, glaring only slightly.
“I swear to god if you scare him off, I’m kicking you out.”
Jay laughs, patting the couch as if to invite you to sit with him to ease your own anxiety. He can smell the familiar lotion you use before dates, and he notes that you’ve really tried to look good today. 
“I think you might kill him, if I’m being honest.” Your best friend laughs softly, complimenting you. 
“Thanks, that’s the plan.”
And so, the two of you sit together laughing at stupid comedy shows until your phone lights up at around seven thirty. 
Grandpa Jake: i’m a little early, is that ok? 
“Oh shit, he’s here.” You immediately feel nervous, which is pretty normal for you anyway so it’s easily overlooked by Jay. 
He jumps up, brushing off his clothes and walking toward the kitchen to grab his keys and wallet. 
“Let him in then, I’ll leave when he gets here.”
You give him a knowing look before nodding. 
You: second floor, take a left when you get to the top of the stairs, third apartment on the left.
Within minutes, there’s a very gentle knock on the door and Jay is throwing himself at it to get a look at him. Unfortunately it’s a bit more awkward than he expected it to be. 
Not only did Jake think your roommate was a woman, but he, at the very least, expected you to answer the door. He was preparing himself all day for this moment, to knock on your door and have you open it. At first he thought that maybe he even got the wrong apartment. 
“Oh, I think I got the wrong place, sorry–” 
“Nope, you’re in the right place.” Jay smiles, stepping to the side and opening the door wider for him. “You can come in.”
Jake does, awkwardly. Avoiding eye contact with Jay and barely even looking into the apartment before stepping inside. 
“She got all cleaned up for you.” Jay whispers, throwing Jake a wink before stepping out and closing the door behind him.
Jake still hasn’t really looked up from the floor yet, and you make quick work to make him feel more comfortable. 
“Don’t mind him, that’s my roommate.” You say, making your way toward him and trying your best not to stare because, okay, wow. He’s kind of ten times more attractive in person, which is fucking insane considering how good he looked through a screen. 
“Have you and him ever like…” Jake immediately starts, realizing he might have made things weird. 
“Jay?! Oh, god no.” You laugh, reaching for his arm and feeling him lean into it with relief. “You’re allowed to look up by the way. You’ve been staring at that crack in my floor since you got here.”
Immediately Jake moves his eyes up to you, the eye contact feeling more intense than it should, but you’re locked in too. The awkwardness dissolves almost instantly, he feels no need to question you further about anything really, especially with the way he feels his throat run dry at the very idea of this whole plan actually happening at some point.
When he made his profile on that app, it was kind of a half joke until like, people started talking to him. Given, no one ever followed through but you, he’s happy he stuck with it. Happy you came out of the works from said dating app, happy you picked him. 
Really though, he picked you. Part of you wonders about why you want to take this from him. For power, for control, to be praised, to feel like you’re his entire world of desire for a brief time? All of those things, yes, but you can admit now that he’s in front of you that it’s a bit intimidating. 
He’s not shy at all, just a bit awkward. He seems confident, he seems ready, and you find yourself lucky for being the one to get to do this for him, or with him. If at all, Jake is the type of man you could see yourself hanging out with often, with or without having sex. 
Given, upon seeing him face to face for the first time, the only thing you thought about was how attractive he is. Now though, as you look back at him along with the silence of this apartment offering nothing more than awkwardness, it’s not. Because you’re seeing him for all he is and he appears to not be able to help it. Is this what people mean when they say there’s an instant spark between two people? Despite how attractive he is, you find yourself thinking of how many times he’s made you laugh in the short period of time you’ve known him along with how many times he’s willingly embarrassed himself
And now for the first time, he’s right there and all you want to do is…give him exactly what he wants.
“Okay, listen,” You start, swallowing around a lump in your throat as you feel your body heat up at record speed by just having his eyes looking into yours. You know by this point that you’re not going to be keeping your hands to yourself at all. And for his sake, he’d probably prefer it that way. “If I move too fast, just tell me to stop.”
Jake tilts his head with a dopey smile, eyes still fixed on you, scanning you, coming to terms with the fact that you’re absolutely everything he thought you would be and more. 
“I don’t think that’s gonna be an issue,” He admits, feeling his length confined within his pants twitch wildly at the fact that this is happening. “I struggled not to get hard just driving over.” He laughs, looking away from you for the first time with flushed cheeks. 
You find that painfully adorable. No man would ever admit that to you. Especially after just a few minutes of meeting in person for the first time, but this is Jake and in the short amount of time you’ve known him, you’re kind of expecting him to be really forward and say things that will have you frozen in thought.
“Oh yeah?” You ask, grabbing his hand and leading him to the kitchen. You’re pretending that his apparent inexperience isn’t getting to you, but you’re not really fooling anyone. “Let’s get you some water or something, I can see you drooling.”
Jake laughs, shrugging because yeah maybe he’s drooling a little bit. You smell fucking immaculate, your hand is small in his but still manages to overpower him, your skin feels soft and slightly cold. Honestly, it’s dangerous just having you stand in front of him right now because he could absolutely blow his load just by you looking at him. Embarrassing? Always.
He follows after you, very nearly crowding up to you as the comfort sets in and the last bit of awkwardness leaves his mind. All he can think about is how you sounded over that facetime call. He’s seen what’s between your legs, and during that night all he could think about was touching you, fucking you. 
Now he’s here, and you’re right there. 
It’s hard not to crowd up, it’s hard not to cling to you, it’s hard not to be excited. Seeing your hand wrapping around that bottle of water to give to him, seeing you lean just before grabbing it– of course he’s staring. Of course he’s crowding closer, almost to the point that he’s up against your ass when you lean back up from the fridge.
You turn after grabbing him the bottle and are shocked by his close proximity when you face him. He looks down at you with a soft face, one that shows he’s not embarrassed by how he immediately attaches to you. His smile is just as clumsy as he is, you can tell he knows exactly what he’s doing too. You’re glad, because it makes it entirely too easy to drop the water bottle, grab his face, and chase his lips all the way until he’s against the counter and kissing you back. 
He sighs instantly into it, wincing at the way the kitchen counter hits his back, you pressing against him so harshly just to get that first taste of his lips. He’s excited that you seem as eager as him, maybe even as desperate as him. 
For you, a man has never been this eager just to kiss you, nor has a man ever kissed you this good. You can imagine that he’s probably got a lot of experience in terms of kissing, not much elsewhere though. You can tell by the way he moves his hands to all of the right places, but his blatant virginity shows through all of it as he becomes a horny mess almost instantly. 
His tongue is warm and wet, small whining sounds coming from his throat as you press yourself against him briefly. His hands never leave your body and he shows no shame in touching where he wants to touch. Rubbing, groping, and caressing every inch of your waist, ass, and even moving up to your face to deepen the kiss. His hips press forward almost constantly, and all you can do is brace yourself on the counter behind him to try and tame his relentless hips and obvious attempts at rushing what he wants right now. 
If you’re going to sleep with him though, he’s gonna get the full experience, not a quickie. Plus, you agreed to keep it in your room for Jay’s sake. 
“Hey,” you sigh, trying to pull back from the kiss but he isn’t having it. Still kissing against you and running his lips down to your neck when you continue to speak. “We should go to my room, your first time isn’t about to be in my kitchen.”
“Why not?” He groans against your neck, kissing harshly with faint wet sounds, his hands wrapping tightly around your waist now. “I don’t care where we do it, i just want you like, really bad.”
Still, his lips don’t leave you, nor do his hands. You find yourself giggling against him with a shake of your head at the way he protests when you pry yourself from his grip. Of course, though, he’s immediately clinging to you and chasing after you to your bedroom before practically throwing himself at you again.
You barely get the door closed before he’s pressing you against the wall, hand running down again to your waist and easily snaking up your shirt just to feel the warmth of your skin. You let him, enjoying the way he kisses you for just the second time, enjoying more the way you can feel him lose his composure every few minutes from this alone. 
You’re kind of in love with the fact that he doesn’t seem to want to pull back even for a breath. He seems to love kissing, and you wonder what else he’ll come to love doing tonight too. From the way he moves his tongue and his lips on you, you can imagine he’d be fucking heavenly at eating pussy.
Successfully you push him away again, rushing to your bed before he can make you melt against his lips for a third time, and you’re instantly trying to present yourself to him much like you did over camera. 
“You’re really going to let me?” He asks with a deep breath, brushing his hair out of his face and wiping his mouth. His brain malfunctions at your presumed answer to that question, watching you take your panties and shorts off in one go and leaning back to spread your legs for him. 
At this moment, you’re all his and you make it a point to spread your pussy out for him like he asked you to do before. You can practically see his knees buckle that very instant.
“To think I wouldn’t want to do this is insane,” You say, wiggling your hips for him to see. “Look how wet I am.” You pause, studying the hungry look in his eyes. “Do you wanna try eating me out?”
He doesn’t even nod. He’s immediately on his knees against your bed and gripping your thighs to pull you toward his face. You yelp only slightly at the movement, a chuckle coming out shortly after as you sit yourself up properly to take in the image of his eyes sparkling up at you. 
It looks like he’s been wanting to do this to someone all his life, with his needy body proving it time and time again. Your breath is caught in your throat, a small groan coming out at the image alone before you’re able to process words again. 
“Can’t believe how good you look down there,” You say softly, brushing his hair out of his face for him like he did to himself earlier. “Have you ever done this before?”
He shakes his head, eyes shifting from your pussy to your face. You can feel his nervous yet eager breath against you, making your eyelashes flutter at even that slight sensation. 
“Go on then.” You sigh out, trying to prepare for what he can manage with that pretty mouth of his.
You watch him and the way he doesn’t seem to think at all when he does it. Once again, he’s adorable. His tongue goes everywhere, only grazing your clit briefly every few licks, never staying on it presumably because he’s in the process of finding the clit based on how your body reacts. 
He has a general idea of where it is, but the feeling of having your pussy spread out like this on his lips alone is enough to overwhelm him with arousal, to the point he genuinely doesn’t know what he’s doing. All he can do is taste and smell the mixture of your warmth along with the soap and lotion you must have used before he came here. 
He’s quite literally tasting the entirety of you and loving every second of it. The way his hands grip your legs, both spreading them further open so that he can tilt his head and lick at different angles, and then hugging them to where they almost lock his head in place. 
It feels like he does this for ages, learning your body and what makes your legs shake. He sucks in different places, kissing your entire pussy to the point that it’s almost impossible for your legs not to shake in a reaction at what he’s doing to you.
Dare you say, a man who is inexperienced at eating a woman out somehow feels better than one who knows exactly where to go. 
“Fuck, knew you’d be good at this,” You compliment with a shaky voice, reaching down to his hair and holding his head in place. “Keep licking there, and use your fingers too.” 
He hums without stopping, taking note of where you place his lips and reminding himself that this is the clit, just as suspected. He attaches his lips there, kissing it much like he kissed you in the kitchen. 
You can feel his fingers make their way into you shortly after, each bump of his knuckle sending a delicious sensation throughout your body. You’re tingling from your head to your toes at this point and your face heats up beyond what you thought it would. Your hips move on their own in response, experimentally fucking against his fingers as he keeps his tongue flicking at you. 
“Just like that,” You encourage him, running your hands through his hair and looking down at him. Seeing his head move with each little thrust of your hips is only more arousing in this moment. His eyes half open, watching you, tasting you, almost smiling around your clit when he makes eye contact with you. 
It almost seems like he’s asking if he’s doing well, and goddamn is he. He’s doing amazing.
“So good,” You say shortly, trying to give him the praise he needs while scratching against his scalp as a thank you, still fucking your hips up just to feel his fingers plunge deeper. 
He, on the other hand, is fucking feral right now. Tasting you, dipping his fingers into you, feeling that warmth for the first time, the small clenches— he’s swimming in a fantasy. Every time you move your hips up, he can smell the entirety of you, he can feel your pussy squeeze his fingers, and god. He doesn’t think he ever wants this to end.
All day. He could do this all fucking day. No wonder men make fun of other guys for not giving head. Why wouldn’t they? He can feel your legs tensing up around his head, your gentle fingers running through his hair, the sounds coming from your lips. He’s in love, he’s in love.
He doesn’t stop, tongue flicking your clit so beautifully, fingers slowly fucking in and out of you, not even in time with your jerking hips. Shockingly, you approach orgasm so fucking fast that you can barely warn him, you’re not even thinking when you put pressure on his head, pressing his lips so harshly against your clit— his moan sending a vibration straight through you.
“Faster, with your fingers—“ You choke out in a drawn out and pornographic moan, curling your toes and feeling him do exactly as you say. 
There, you release with his fingers plunging in and out of you, the wet sound of your pussy only sounding more messy by the time you begin to release. In the midst of it all, you feel him pull his lips from your clit and lick around his fingers before coming back up and continuing his ministrations, working you through an orgasm you’re not even sure he knows you’re having right now.
Insane, really, that he needed to taste the messy relief before resuming. 
Strings of curses, little tugs against his hair, legs shaking, all of it happens at once until the feeling of his fingers become sensitive inside of you, until his tongue is flicking a bundle of nerves begging to be left alone. 
You swat him away with a smile, leaning up quickly and grabbing him by the shirt. 
He doesn’t really know what the fuck is going on but he laughs with you, being pulled to his feet and falling onto the bed on top of you. You can feel his cock in his pants, so fucking hard, probably leaking and feeling quite neglected.
“Did you…?” He asks softly, dipping his head shyly with his wet chin shining in the light of your room.
You smile at him, leaning up to kiss him square on the mouth before you flip him over and get between his legs. 
“I did,” You laugh in a daze, starting to work on his button and zipper. You’re reeling from the recent orgasm and want nothing more than to let him feel the same way you do right now. “And now, I'm gonna do the same for you.”
He chokes out a nervous laugh, holding your hand in place from pulling his pants down.
“Unless, you don’t want that?” You ask, tilting your head with a bit of a frown.
“N-No!  It’s not that!” He reassures you, cheeks flushing more than they already were. “It’s just that– like, what if I don’t last very long? I’m kind of sensitive.”
His eyes avoid yours when he says it and once again, most adorable man award goes to fucking Jake.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing?” You lean forward, kissing him again. “You just gave me some of the best head in my life.”
The light in his eyes returns and instantly he’s flashing a nervous smile at you. 
“Jake, I’ve never gotten off that fast from being eaten out.” You reassure him again, making a point to use his name loud and clear. “If you don’t get off from me sucking your cock, I might actually cry.” 
Well, he can’t have that now, can he? 
He releases your grip on his jeans, allowing you to pull them down. For some reason unable to look at you despite knowing you’ve seen him jerk off before. It’s the fact that like, what if it’s suddenly not big enough? What if his cock is ugly or curved in a way you don’t like?
Before he can even start to doubt himself more, he feels your lips on the tip and instantly his eyes are looking down at you. You’re the one smiling now, using one hand to hold his base and the other hand already scooping up his balls for added pleasure. 
You make a point to look him in the eye as you let the saliva collect in your mouth when you pull back slightly. There, you let it fall from the tip of your tongue, all the way until you feel the wetness against your fingers wrapped around his base. 
He thinks he’s going to go fucking insane watching you like this, and god, does he. You don’t even show him your struggle of taking in the sheer size of him. Lowering your mouth until you’re taking him in as much as you can. You try to keep eye contact up until you have to close your eyes. 
It’s not shocking that by the point you get half of his length into your mouth, he’s fucking up without full intention and letting out a choked apology. Still, you try to force your stretched lips to smile for him, even through the gag, even through the harsh feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat. 
How the fuck has a cock this good not been worshiped before? By a mouth? A hand? A pussy? You’ll be damned not to choke on it. You’d rather eat glass than to let him leave this apartment without being completely emptied and praised for every drop. 
He’s actually struggling already not to come, holding himself back but failing each time his hips chase the warmth of your throat. Each time you gag, it stimulates the fuck out of his cock and he nearly wants to cry each time it happens. Even with that other girl who went down on him, she didn’t even attempt to fit this much in her mouth. Most of the pleasure came from her hand jerking him off while she suckled against his head, but you. You’re down there, slipping your mouth up and down on him like that, gagging, tearing up, and still fucking smiling about it. 
He’s in love.
He holds his hands back at least, keeping them against your sheets and gripping them so hard that he fears he’s ripping through them. Everything feels hot, you look hot, you sound hot, your tongue still manages to move against the base of his cock with what little room it does have, and god– your other hand, massaging his balls. 
“Wait, wait wait–” Jake groans, fucking his hips into your mouth once again until you pull off with a concerned look. 
“Were my teeth hurting you?” You ask, gasping a bit for air.
“No!” He heaves out with fluttering lashes, trying to regain sanity. “I was just getting really close.”
“Hm?” You sigh in disappointment, this time going all in at once and not letting yourself stop until he’s releasing into your mouth. 
You feel his shaking fingers brush your cheek when you do it, hollowing it out just to fit more, more, more into your mouth before lapping your tongue against his base again. 
His groaning turns into frantic moans, his hips jerking wildly, unable to escape the clenching muscles of your gagging throat, and he’s honestly in heaven once again. 
“Ah–wait–fuck.” He tries to protest, not wanting to finish so quickly, but there it goes. There he goes.
Never in his life has he felt an orgasm so satisfying. His eyes roll back and his fingers go numb when he releases, pumping himself deep into your throat and not stopping until he’s dizzy. The fact that you kept your mouth on him through it, the fact that he could still feel you gagging, swallowing, and moaning all at once through it– how?
“How–” he takes a breath, pulling you off of him so you can breathe. “How did you do that?”
You shrug with a confident smile, wiping your tears and crawling up to meet his face. 
“I don’t normally do that for guys.” You say with a rasp in your voice. “I certainly don’t just swallow for anyone.”
He feels special, and fucking spent but god does he want to keep going. His softening cock twitching in a relieving way, probably glad to have finally been touched by something other than his own hand. Part of him wonders if you’re done though, because by now you’ve both gotten off and usually that’s the end goal, right?
But he hasn’t lost his virginity yet, and when he looks at you hovering above him, he already knows you’re not done with him. 
“We need to let you rest until you can get hard again,” You say, kissing him more easily than before and letting him taste himself, letting you taste yourself mixed with him. “What’s something you wanna do to get you back into the game?”
He sighs out a laugh, fucking amazed that you’re his first. How lucky is that? He thinks hard, watching the way you lift your shirt off of yourself. God, he forgot tits existed for a solid part of this day and that’s a shame because instantly his sensitive cock throbs at the image of them coming into view. 
You watch him stare, trailing your hands down and lifting his shirt off of him as well. 
“I– I don’t even know at this point.” He admits with a stammer, ignoring the fact that his hair is definitely sticking up all over from you taking his shirt off of him.
“I’ll just love on you while you think, then.”
He gives a short nod, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside at the way your gentle hands caress his chest and abs before you start kissing against the muscles and soft skin there.
He relaxes his body, feeling your hands and lips on him. You were right when you said you’d love on him as he thinks about it. The hard part of it is actually thinking about what’s going to get him harder the fastest. You doing this could be enough, but your tits. And fuck, your pussy.
He lets out a whine, one that feels entirely out of character and it causes you to pause your gentle kiss against his nipple and pull back.
“Already?” 
He shakes his head, staring straight at your chest and then down to what's between your legs. 
“I want to, um…” He shifts his eyes away from you. “Can I eat you out again?”
That’s new. Twice in one session?
“Oh yeah? Did that get you going?”
You receive a small nod from him before his hands are reaching out for your tits and warming them up. 
You relax into the feeling of his fingers on your chest only for a moment before you pull back again, this time adjusting yourself onto the bed face down, ass up in front of him. Might as well try a bunch of different positions for him too, right?
“Whenever you’re ready.” You sigh, already grabbing a pillow to hug through this. 
You can feel the bed shift behind you, the weight of his body dipping right behind you before you feel his warm breath against your core. Only now do you realize that you already missed the way he ate you out the first time, you can barely contain yourself knowing he’s going to do it again. 
His hands snake between your legs before his lips get any closer, spreading them before pulling his hand back up and spreading your pussy open with his fingers on his own this time. 
“It’s really the prettiest.” He says in a clear and shaking voice, watching the way your hole pulses at the air that hits it. “And I've watched a lot of porn.”
You’d tell him to shut up, but you’re not gonna because it’s cute how forward he is with his thoughts. If anything, he’s treating you right now by doing this, so he can say whatever he fucking wants right now. 
“Yeah? You just gonna stare at it?” You try to urge him, and it works.
Because of course it works. 
You do your best to contain any rising orgasm, solely because you don’t want to spend yourself before you actually let him inside of you in full. But goddamn, he’s just as eager now as he was the first time…if not more. 
He thinks back to the things he did before, mimicking that and hitting all of the perfect spots without fail. Still, you hold back, pushing and pulling yourself away and toward him just to feel his tongue chase. He eventually holds you in place against him, big hands holding you firmly against his face with a bit of force. And now? He’s licking you deeper than you’ve ever been licked before. It’s a different kind of sensation, and the way he groans into it is entirely too much for you right now. 
You need more, you want more. You want all of him by now, so aroused by every touch, breath, and moan that it’s becoming unbearable to just be eaten out. The thought that he’s doing this to get himself hard again is flooring, and the feeling of his fingers replacing his tongue much like before is intense. 
After just that one time, he knows exactly how to make you cum this way and it’s dangerously attractive to realize that. He goes straight for it too, pulling back to watch his fingers slip into you up to the knuckle. 
He hums out a rumbled moan at the sound of your cunt squelching around his fingers. So wet. More wet than any of the girls in the porn he’s watched for years. You’re dripping around his fingers, and the smacking sound is so fucking arousing to him.
And yeah, he can’t reach your clit with his mouth this time so he thinks hard about how to fix this little dilemma and you’re floored even more by the fact that he solves problems without questioning. You feel his fingers leave you and land on your clit, and right then you feel his tongue again, just as deep, licking into you and all over you. 
The sound of your pussy amplifies when it’s against his tongue, and honestly, he could cum right now if he really wanted to. Already he’s hard again, but god feeling you, hearing you, seeing you like this for him? For some guy who has never once been able to give a girl his all like this? 
He’s so focused on you.
Which for you, is a bit of an issue because he’s really not going to let you hold it in, he’s going to have you fucking unravelling again and it’s too good. Thankfully, when you try to lift to look behind yourself, you take note of his other hand working himself. 
He’s hard again, and god knows how long he’s been doing that. 
You pull your body away from him quickly to let your rising orgasm subside, his protesting moan doing nothing but heating your body up more when you flip over and watch him. 
“You were really just going to get me off again and not try to fuck me yet?”
He looks down at himself and then back at you, smiling and running his hand through his hair. 
“I like doing it, I wanted to see if I could make you–”
“You absolutely could have but I’m going to be honest,” You start, interrupting him and pulling yourself up to crawl over him. “If you’re ready, I’d like to live up to my promise.”
His eyes are much sharper than they were before when you say those words. This is actually it. He would have been perfectly happy just eating you out, getting head himself, or whatever. Over and over again. Any and all of it is better than being in his room alone, but you’re really–
“Really?” He asks, knowing full well the answer.. 
“Lay back, get comfortable,” You instruct with deep breaths, scooting up the bed with him, keeping yourself planted on his legs despite the discomfort. “You still want me to ride you, yeah?”
He nods almost frantically, landing his hands on your tits without hesitation and groping them in a blatant show of how ready he’s managed to get himself for this. 
Not that you want to rush, but you’re so fucking turned on by this point, the only thing you want is to be filled by him. His is cock likely bigger than any you’ve taken before, and to be fair, you don’t even care if you’re the desperate one at this point. You’ve almost forgotten he’s a virgin.
“Wait,” He stops you when you slide over his cock, bare pussy coating his length in a languid grind. “Oh, fuck, wait- no,” He breathes in a sharp breath and grips your hips. ”Do that again.” 
You smile at his frantic thoughts pouring from his lips, sliding against him again, and again, up until he’s leaning forward and attaching his lips to one of your nipples and suckling against it hard. 
You groan as you grind, feeling the head of his now, fully hard, cock bumping against your previously stimulated clit. He groans with you, almost at the exact same time but continues to try and leave his mark on you. In love with finally getting your tits in his mouth, your pussy on his cock, and most of all, in love with the fact that you’re not laughing at him for any of it. You seem to melt into it much like he does and he can’t help but want to email the creator of that fucking app and personally thank them for this. 
You rub yourself against him until it’s even more unbearable than before. By now, you’ve completely soaked his length and he’s completely soaked your chest in saliva and tiny swollen bite marks. Not that you mind the biting, his little rumbled grow-like moans only made this all the more arousing.
“Ready?” You finally sigh out, deliberately grinding against him slowly now, with almost your entire weight behind the grinds. 
He groans out a “please” before immediately gripping your hips and stopping you. Pulling his head back so hard and so quickly– he kind of forgot to unlatch from your nipple and it sends a sharp pain throughout your body, one that only makes you want to ride him hard. Right now. 
“Hold on, there’s a condom in the pocket of my jeans–”
“Okay, and?” You laugh, sliding forward again and grinding your clit against him. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean.” 
He looks at you, his sharp eyes falling back into the sparkling doe eyes as his mouth falls open at the very idea that he gets to hit is fucking raw for the first time? 
“Unless you’re lying, and you’re not really a virgin?”
He’s quick to silence your doubt. He’s 100% never had his cock inside of anything other than his own palm and– malfunction. He’s blank again, staring up at you and wincing at the feeling of you pleasuring yourself on top of him. 
“Please?” He manages to get out, gripping your hips so tightly by now that he’s sure it’s hurting you. 
You smile, humming at him when you lift from him, standing on your knees to grab his cock and position him in the right place. 
“You sure you want it too?” You ask, only now realizing that you’re genuinely about to take a man’s virginity, and it’s only fair that you give him one last time to decide if he wants you to take it from him. Despite how turned on you are, and regardless of how badly you want to fuck him, it’s not right to just do it without making him really think about it. 
“Fuck, yes.” His fingers tighten against you, his eyes squeeze shut, and his voice comes out as frantic and quite frankly, a bit annoyed. “Just do it already.” 
You can’t help but smile at him when you do. Lowering yourself slowly on him and feeling the stretch of it. His face is something that you don’t think you’ll ever forget. He appears to be lost in it, eyes rolling back, his chest heaving, his teeth showing through a half-smile as he moans out at the sensation. 
He can’t get over how warm it is inside of you, the constant clenching of your pussy dragging along his entire length. He can’t help it when he moans, he doesn’t care that his voice cracks, or that it sounds like a pathetic sob. 
By the time you bottom out and sit like that for a moment, you almost feel like he’s the one who needs to adjust. Of course, you’re needing this moment to adjust too but god– just watching him makes you that much more wet and it’s insane how into him you are right now. As if you haven’t been since you started talking to him.
“Feels good?” You ask, involuntary clenching around his size, letting out a small sigh yourself at the feeling of his leaking cock inside of you. 
He hums at you and then takes in a deep breath before fully opening his eyes again and looking at you. Technically, he’s no longer a virgin now. It’s fucking happening, and you’re hot? So fucking hot? You feel so good? You smell so good. You sound so fucking good. 
Everything is overwhelmingly good, all he can do now is press his hips up and instantly moan out at the new feeling. 
You take that as an invitation to absolutely obliterate him, much like you knew you would. So, you do. Lifting yourself up and sliding him almost entirely out of you before sinking down again. 
His hands shoot to your waist, then he lifts slightly to grab your ass from behind you, and then he flops himself back– seemingly unable to know what the fuck to do with himself at this feeling. 
You opt to grab his hands, intertwining your fingers with his and holding them above his head, all so you can lay chest to chest with him, lips right at his neck. You start kissing, riding him so smoothly and doing nothing but listening to his little sounds that he tries to keep inside. 
“You’re really cute, you know that?” You whisper against his ear, kissing there too before pulling back to look at his face.
That half-smile never leaves his face, and his fingers squeeze against yours so tightly that you actually start to worry that he may break them. Thankfully, he begins to relax after a few minutes. Adjusting to the overwhelming pleasure and now losing himself to the arousal rather than fighting it. 
You nearly squeak when you feel him release your hands and grab your face, pulling you up to him as he kisses you mindlessly. Breathlessly, moaning into your mouth all while moving his own hips now. You can feel him jerk his hips, imagining how he fucked his hand through facetime. This is better than that.
You prop to stand up on your knees, offering him the space to fuck you as hard as he’d like, and god. It’s hard. It’s deep, and it’s so clumsy. No rhythm, no thought behind it at all, you can fucking tell he’s purely running on adrenaline as he plunges into you. 
He’s actually going so hard, that your moans sound more pained than pleasurable, but that’s not the case at all. You actually can’t stop moaning, it’s just the fact that each time he slams into you, your throat lets out a broken sound. 
For a moment, you think you can actually hear him unintentionally growl against your slack lips as he does it. Already he’s lasted longer than you thought he would, especially without a condom, and you’re so fucking impressed by it. 
You slide your hand between your bodies, easily rubbing your own clit and drying out your throat even more with the consistent loud moans of how good he’s doing. After a few moments though, his hips stutter and you take that as a sign that you should take over again.
“I don’t know how the fuck you’re doing this to me,” You laugh out of pity for yourself, “I really thought I could last longer than this.”
He barely hears you through his ringing ears and rapid heartbeat, but he chuckles at the compliment. Feeling like he must be doing something right to have a woman say that to him. There’s one issue. He’s about two thrusts from cumming again and he will be damned to ruin this for you. 
You take over, riding him harshly and rubbing your clit even harder. He takes a moment to try and distract himself from how good your pussy feels clenching him and takes it upon himself to bite down hard against his tongue. Something to hurt enough to keep his orgasm from bubbling over, but also not something so awful that he’d lose his arousal entirely. 
You continue, pushing yourself back up from him and watching the way he tries to focus on anything but what’s happening. You ride deliberately to get him off though, knowing that the second he does, you’ll let yourself go too. He doesn’t seem to be picking up the hints. 
“Are you close?” You ask, out of breath and riding him so consistently that it’s becoming more and more difficult to hold your own orgasm. “Let it go, do it with me–”
Instantly, you hear him whimper out a moan as he releases the bite on his tongue. Shooting himself forward and hugging you so tightly that the pressure of your fingers against your clit is entirely unbearable. 
“Oh, god. I’m–” You start, moaning against his hair as he hugs against you.
He’s so fucking relieved, already releasing into you as you say those words. All he can do is breathe through it, feeling your pussy pulse around him as he continues to empty himself into you. 
It’s entirely too intense, his ears popping and heart threatening to send him to a hospital. Never did he think having sex was this intense. 
Little does he know… it’s not. But even you, for some reason, find yourself wondering why the fuck that was so good. 
By the time you pull yourself off of him, both of you wincing and trying to ignore the mixture of cum running down your legs, all you can do is look at him with curiosity. 
He can barely open his eyes to look back at you, but he tries, he really does. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
He’s not going home tonight. Of course he’s not. Like, how fucking rude would it be to take his virginity and send him on his way? Absolutely the fuck not.
In fact, you made him some food, wobbling on spent legs throughout the kitchen as he lays on his death bed in your room. (He’s being dramatic.)
All he can do is listen to the sounds of you in the other room and think hard about how he just felt. Physically, it was a lot. Surely if sex is like that all the time, he’d rather not do it as often as Heeseung does. Honestly, his sanity would be at stake. 
But like, you’re kind of amazing. Given, the two of you barely know each other past lame texts and bullying each other. Physically, you know him more than any other woman and that’s a block he didn’t think would be an issue until it became one.
You made him cum twice. And he thinks you did too, unless you’re lying just to make him feel better. There’s no way you didn’t feel the intensity of that though. There’s no way your wobbling legs were lying to him when you got up and told him you wanted to have a snack before bed.
There’s no way you would let him sleep over if you didn’t feel the same way he does right now.
And by the time you’re back, handing him a plate of food, he can’t help but believe that nothing will ever taste as good as you.
The thing is, that’s one of the main reasons you did this. To be praised, to have a man think you’d be the best he will ever have until he eventually meets someone else and they do better than you did. Now though, you feel weird. 
This is a one night stand. A charity-fuck, as it still stands at least. 
“So,” You start, taking a bite of your food still as naked as can be regardless of how stupid it must look to be eating in a cum-soaked bed like this. “I guess you should change your bio in the app now.”
He looks at you, and then at his food.
“Yeah, I guess I should…” 
“I’ll help you fix your age on it. Now that you know what you’re doing with a woman and all.”
It’s silent for a minute.
“Is it too forward if I say that I’d rather just delete the app and keep calling you?”
Thank fuck Jake is forward and embarrassing with it. You’re not ready to give up the single life but on the other hand, after that, you’re not exactly ready to share him with other women just yet either. If he wants to attach himself for a while, you’re going to let him. Purely because, like, look at him. Everything is endearing, and when he’s not being adorable he’s just being fucking hot.
Maybe you will be ready to give up the single life if it’s with Jake. 
You nod with a smile, wondering if he expects you to delete the app too. Because you’re not so sure about that, but also you think you probably would if he asks with those stupid doe eyes. 
Strangely enough, he doesn’t even ask. He just starts eating the food with a content look on his face. Sweat having dried up but left his hair a mess, his skin is glowing– you think…oh no. Why are you looking at him like this?
“Hey, I should probably call Jay and tell him not to come home until late tomorrow or something.”
Jake nods, lifting his eyes to you and watching you take your phone out. 
“I should call my friend too, he told me to let him know when I get my cherry popped.”
You snort at him with a laugh right as Jay answers the phone, and honestly, you’d rather listen to Jake’s friend than Jay whining about having to spend even more time with his overbearing parents. 
“Hey Jay, don’t come home 'til I call you tomorrow, bye.” You say quickly before hanging up. 
Instantly you’re setting your plate on your table and launching yourself at Jake and his phone. 
“Put him on speaker.”
Jake does just that, laughing at Heeseung’s reaction when he hears you speak rather than his best friend over the line. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
5K notes · View notes
hausofwoo · 2 months ago
Text
graphic | mark lee
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pairing: mark lee x afab reader
word count: 6.6K
summary: stuck in the monotony of your job at the mall, every day feels the same: opening the store, sitting behind the register, and counting the hours til close. you've even memorized the routines of the stores around you. but when a new guy starts at the comic book store across the way, you realize your predictable days may soon change.
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, comic book store employee!mark, retail employee!reader, really cute and fluffy until it's not, public sex (public space but no one is there), unprotected piv (DONT DO THIS), mark throws u around like a lil play thing, oral (fem recieving), fingering, use of a petname (baby), lmk if i forgot anything!
author's note: this one took forever yall i know its been a while! been going thru some shit irl but things are settling and i was deadset on finishing this bc it's so cute :'-) thank u to T and @hausofmingi for being my beta readers ( ˘ ³˘)♡
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working at a mall can be really tiring, but it’s not so bad when you have a crush.
you’ve been working at a retail store at your local mall for a few months now. it’s boring, there’s too many people on the weekends, and you have the worst hours. you found yourself working open to close for far too many shifts. but at the end of the day, at least it keeps the bills paid.
on slow days during the week, you’re always sat at the register, scrolling through your phone or twiddling your thumbs, counting down the seconds til closing time. sometimes you would even stare off into space, watching people pass by all day long.
you went to work always knowing exactly how the day would go; set up shop, maybe help some customers, and do fucking nothing for 8 to 10 hours. maybe a wave to the employees at the stores surrounding you, but sadly, that was usually the most interesting part of your day. you became accustomed to the monotony though, watching the same employees open up their shops next to yours.
the store directly across from yours is a comic book store. you know the few people that worked there, usually just saying “good morning” and going on with your day. you swear, you have this store memorized, knowing when the employees take their breaks, who’s working, what they’re working on that day. you didn’t really mean to, but when all you have to do is daydream, you kinda picked up on the routine there.
so when you arrive in the morning for yet another brutal open-to-close shift, you expect to just roll up the security shutters and sit back at the register all day. but there’s something different today; or rather, someone different.
sitting at the register at the comic book store is a man you’ve never seen before. his hair is perfectly messy and his glasses framed his eyes, which are focused on reading a comic. he’s working all by himself, which is surprising to you since you’re certain he’s new. you catch yourself staring and try to brush it off. he’s a new guy, so what?
you try your best to go about your day as normal, but you can’t help stealing glances over at the man at the store across from you. he has a captivating energy, and it makes you want to know more about him. he seems charismatic, being friendly with customers and earning smiles, then resuming his doodling once they leave. you notice that when he looks really focused, he bites the corner of his lip gently.
you gotta stop staring, or he will definitely notice. you decide to actually work on something for once, organizing the stock and straightening the shelves. soon enough, closing time creeps up on you. you do all of your closing duties and grab your things from the back. you close the security shutters, looking behind you quickly to see that the man is doing the same. he notices your gaze, so you kindly wave at him. instead of a wave back, blush forms on his face with a shy smile. and with that, he walks away.
the interaction was unreadable. he seemed to be so extroverted with customers, having no issue having casual conversations with them. why is he getting all shy now?
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you started to pick up on the new routine at the comic book store. from what you could tell, the man worked similar hours to you, often opening and closing too. he rarely worked with anyone else, so the majority of the time you glanced over, he was reading comics, manga, or doodling in his notepad.
you never really got into comic books like that, and only dabbled with reading manga, but the growing interest in this man made you curious about learning more on what he was reading. maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check out the selection? perhaps get some recommendations? you just finished a short shift today so now was the perfect opportunity.
after grabbing your things and saying goodbye to your coworker, you make your way over to the comic book store. you approach the man, who’s sitting at the register as usual, reading. you see his name tag on his chest; a cute red pin with a spider-man drawing next to his name, “mark.”
“hi,” you say, pulling his attention away from reading.
“oh, hi,” he says, placing his comic down. “sorry, i didn’t see you come in.”
“it’s okay,” you reply, looking around at the goodies at the register. “i was wondering if you have any recommendations for a beginner at reading comics?”
“oh for sure,” he says, eyes lighting up. “marvel has tons of great ones. you could start with an ironman one, or maybe captain america? i personally like spider-man, but i’m definitely biased.”
“i’ll try spider-man,” you say after a beat.
mark gives you a nod with a warm smile before leaving the register to grab your comic. he searches through the spider-man section until he finds the first issue. he returns to the register, ringing you up.
“i think you’ll like it, it’s really good,” mark says, handing your receipt to you.
“i’m definitely looking forward to see what all the hype is about,” you chuckle. the conversation pauses for moment, clearly indicating that the interaction is pretty much over with. but you don’t want the conversation to end there, so you find something to keep talking about. “you’re new here, aren’t you? like you just started working here?”
“yeah, sort of,” he says, sitting back in his seat at the register. “i used to work here a while ago and i just came back ‘cause they needed someone.”
“oh nice,” you reply. “welcome back i guess?”
“haha, i guess,” he smiles, rubbing his hand on his neck. “it’s chill here, but it gets kinda boring.”
“tell me about it,” you chuckle. “it’s so slow during the week. i usually have nothing to do.”
“yeah, i just read or draw to pass the time,” mark says, pointing at his notepad on the counter.
“you like to draw?” you ask, curious.
“yeah,” he places a hand on the notepad, grabbing it. you can tell he’s getting shy again. “it’s just doodles.”
“you’ll have to show me some of those ‘doodles’ sometime,” you say with a sweet smile. you check your phone for the time. it’s getting closer to dinnertime and you’re starved. “i guess i’ll get out of here.”
“okay,” he stands again. “well, let me know what you think of the comic.”
“i will,” you say, turning to leave, then flipping back to look at him. “mark, right?”
he nods, asking for your name as well. he beams at you. “it’s nice to meet you. see you tomorrow?”
“see you tomorrow,” you say with a wave, walking out.
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for the next week, you find yourself aching to talk to mark again. you read the comic he gave you, and it provided a little bit of insight into him… that he’s a bit of a nerd. definitely not a bad thing. it’s actually really endearing to you, knowing his life basically revolves around superheroes, free time and work alike. that he probably draws little comics in his notepad, and has sweet dreams about being superhuman. why is that so fucking cute?
you have a reason to talk to him again, of course: the next issue of spider-man. the problem is building up the courage again, which is ridiculous because he’s just a guy. a nerdy one at that, and you know that he would be putty in your hands if you really wanted him to be. but the longing you developed for him during those long hours of your shift, seeing him across the way, looking so cute in his round glasses… it’s making you nervous in a way that is difficult to explain.
you’ve been putting off going back to his store at this point. wouldn’t someone that wanted to get into superhero comics come back for the next edition? why aren’t you using your excuse to talk to him? not only that, but he even said he wanted you to come tell him what you thought of the comic. you’re just overthinking things.
you have another short shift one day, and decide today is the day. you gather your things and walk to the neighboring store, feeling the familiar butterflies you felt the first time you approached mark at the register. he’s drawing this time, crouched down and focused. he hears you walk in, lifting his head to meet your eyes. maybe you’re crazy, but it looks like his eyes light up.
“hey,” he says, closing the notepad in front of him. you present the spider-man comic to him, and he flashes a smile at you. “what’d you think?”
you chuckle, holding the comic close to your chest. “it was good, but too short. there’s another issue, right?” you joke, hoping it lands.
he lets out a giggle, “yeah, there definitely is. i’ll grab the next one for you.”
he walks over to a section near the front of the store, flipping through the excess of papers before he finds the 2nd issue. “if you liked that one, you’ll like this one even more.” he returns to the register with the issue, placing it on the counter for you.
“duel to the death with the vulture?” you read from the page. “i haven’t seen any of the movies recently so correct me if i’m wrong, but i don’t remember there being a vulture.”
“oh yeah, he’s in one of the later movies actually,” mark starts. “but you got a long way to go til you finally meet one of the iconic villians like the green goblin, or even the love interests gwen stacy or mary jane. it’ll be so worth the wait though.”
“how much do i owe you?” you ask, already pulling out your wallet.
“you can borrow it if you want,” he says.
“but this one belongs to the store, won’t you get in trouble?” you ask.
“just bring it back and it’s like it never happened,” he whispers, faking a shhh at you. “let’s just say it’s mall employee perk.”
you smile and accept it.
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your new routine feels like a nice change of pace. every second of every day used to drag by, and yet at the same time, when you got home, everything that happened was so unbelievably boring that it all felt like a blur. nothing really significant happened to you. but something about trying something new, learning about a brand new niche interest, and even developing a crush… it’s finally something exciting.
you looked forward to the next time you got a new issue. not just that, but the next time you got to talk to mark. he has this charm about him that piqued your interest. it feels so easy to talk to him, as if you’ve already known each other for a long time and it isn’t just a budding friendship. you’d find yourself stopping by the comic book store a few times a week, anticipating the next comic and the underlying tension between you and mark.
like today, when you finally got off of work after a long shift. you were able to close up shop quickly and now you’re walking over to the comic book store, attempting to run in before mark locked up.
“hey, is it cool if i get the next issue real quick?” you ask, popping your head in the store.
“yeah, one sec,” he says, looking up from counting the cash in the register. “lemme just finish closing up the register.”
“are you implying that you’re gonna let me borrow another comic?” you ask, a flirty tone floating beneath.
“well of course,” he says, swiftly closing the cash drawer. “unless you want to start collecting, which by the way, SUPER expensive.”
“i think i’ll stick to being a casual reader for now,” you joke, approaching mark at the register.
“i don’t know, you might change your mind after this one,” he says, grabbing a comic from his bag. he holds it out to you, you grabbing it with your fingers briefly brushing past his. the motion makes you feel a little dizzy, and you can feel heat rising to your cheeks.
you shake your head, realizing this one doesn’t belong to the store. “wait, is this your own personal comic?”
“yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” he says, half focusing as he’s writing something on a sticky note at the counter. “i brought it in so you can borrow it.” you can see the corner of his mouth turning up, as if he’s trying to hold back a smile.
“you didn’t have to do that—”
“i wanted to,” he says, lifting his head up to hand you the sticky note he was writing on. “just treat it with care.”
you take the note, which is pale blue with a cartoon spider-man in the corner. in the middle of the note is a scrawled out phone number. you look up to see mark rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“if you want to tell me what you think?” he says, almost like a question.
“or maybe when i get bored during my shift?” you ask, chuckling.
“i’d like that a lot actually,” he smiles, his previous nervousness quickly washing away.
“you’ll regret it though,” you say, sticking the note on the front page of the comic. “because i get bored here a lot.”
“don’t worry,” mark laughs, shaking his head. “i don’t think i’ll get sick of you anytime soon.”
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you finally reached issue #14 of spider-man, the one mark is lending to you. you grab it out of your bag at the beginning of your shift, sitting back in your chair behind the register and getting comfortable. you realize what it’s about and immediately text mark.
sent 10:17 am omg wait i didn’t realize this issue is the first appearance of the green goblin
you look across the way, seeing mark pick up his phone and smiling.
sent 10:18 am mark: oh yeah, he’s fuckin sick mark: you’re gonna love it
you click your phone off with a soft sigh, flipping back to your comic. you go about your shift switching from helping customers and checking them out, and reading. every once and a while, you’ll message mark with your comments and he would always reply with enthusiasm.
the end of your shift approaches quickly, and soon enough you’re closing the security shutters. you look behind you to see mark locking the doors and then doing the same. he must’ve felt your eyes on him, because he turns and flashes his famous smile to you. you walk over to him with the comic in hand.
“you were right,” you say, handing it him. “green goblin is super sick.”
“i told you,” he says, reaching for it, and your hands momentarily touching like last time. he gets flustered. “uh, i can give you the next one tomorrow if you’re working.”
“i am, yeah,” you reply, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “i am so curious though—when the hell does gwen stacy show up?”
“oh,” he giggles to himself. “you’re like, halfway there to finally seeing her.”
“i didn’t realize how extensive this series is,” you chuckle. “not that i’m complaining. i’m actually surprised by how much i like it.”
“i’m glad,” he says sweetly. “well, just come by tomorrow and i’ll give you the next issue.”
“i will.”
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the following weeks, you became overtaken by superhero comics and stupid-fucking-adorable mark. you would read an issue of spider-man at work, and text mark with your reactions to certain scenes. at first you thought it might be annoying to him, but he actually seemed to encourage it, asking for your opinions on the characters and storyline.
it doesn’t help that every time you see mark, you get butterflies in your stomach. and it seemed to only be getting worse; you keep finding yourself smiling when his name pops up on your phone. you wake up excited to go to work, because you know you’ll probably have another interaction with him. sometimes, mark would even catch you staring at him and give a little nod with a smile. but what made things exponentially worse was when you catch him gazing at you too, catching you off guard but making a smile spread across your lips. you are smitten, and if anyone else was concerned, mark is probably smitten too. the issue is getting him to finally take the hint and making a real move on you.
he may get a little flustered around you, but he’s not exactly shy. after all, he did give you his number unprompted. but after weeks of going back and forth strictly talking about comics and work, you started to lose hope. you just want him. he must want you back just as bad.
after another closing shift, you watch the mall-goers pass by and file out of the building. the mall is basically empty now, most of the neighboring stores already closed and employees leaving for the day. you had to stay a little bit late, cleaning up a huge mess in the store from some rude customers. you thought you would have time to stop by to see mark, but with the amount of things you have to put away, your chances are looking slim.
you shuffle around the store, placing items back on the shelves and organizing the tables of merchandise. you eyes shift over to the comic book store, expecting to see it dark and locked up. but it isn’t; mark is still in there, half the lights still on, with him unboxing comics from their latest shipment. you already knew it was restock day for them (god you have way too much free time), but you didn’t realize how many boxes they got in.
you open the front door of your store, whisper-yelling through the security shutters. “mark!”
mark’s head turns to look at you and flashes a grin at you. “yo, you’re still here too?”
you nod, leaning on the glass door. you hold up a few of the displaced items in your hands. “go-backs,” you shrug.
he points at the pile of boxes in front of him, “restock. we got a lot of shit in early for christmas.”
“don’t say christmas please, i don’t want to think about it yet,” you say with a laugh.
you turn away to get back to work, putting all the merchandise back to their assigned spots. you don’t know what the hell got into people today; messing up all your organization you’ve done and putting things in all the wrong places. it didn’t help that you had to deal with some assholes with returns today too. you always theorize it’s from a full moon or mercury retrograde or something; those things must be the reason people start acting up.
after about an hour of cleaning, you finish up and can finally call it a day. you close up shop and turn to see mark still working on stocking at his store. you approach the security gate of the store, with its front door still propped open.
“i still need my next issue by the way,” you say to mark, who stands from his crouching position in front of an open box. he walks up to the gate and pushes it up, just enough for you to come through. you look hesitant.
“come in, it’s okay,” he says, motioning you in. you duck under the security gate, slipping into the store. “how was your day? looks like you had a lot to do.”
“yeah, the store was a mess,” you say, following him to the register. “i’ve never had to stay so late after close.”
“it’s only gonna get worse the closer it gets to christmas,” mark says while weaving around the boxes with you.
“what did i say about christmas?” you joke, nudging his shoulder softly.
“sorry, sorry,” he laugh, putting his hands up. you wait patiently for him as he kneels behind the register, looking for your comic. he pops back up with a stumped look on his face. “i swear i thought i put it up here to give to you but i can’t find it. i’m gonna go check the back.”
he starts walking to the back room, and looks back at you. “feel free to sit if you want. our stockroom is a wreck, this might take a sec.”
you nod to him, squeezing past the tower of boxes to sit in the chair at the register. it feels kinda funny to sit back here, like you’re seeing the store from a different perspective, from mark’s perspective. you look around behind the counter, seeing the little notes and cute super-hero knick knacks gathered around.
there’s a mini batman funko pop positioned in the corner, with a sticky note placed under his feet reading “no drinks at the register.” you look over to see a large iced coffee with mark’s name in sharpie. well, we all bend the rules a bit. his name tag is placed on the counter by a stack of comics. you grab it to take a closer look. it’s a plastic red pin with a white pop-art bubble. in the corner is a small piece of paper stuck on it, attached with office tape. on the paper is a spider-man doodle, made with red and blue marker and pen ink.
you’re sure this must’ve been drawn by mark. you have yet to see any of his drawings (despite your prying), so maybe seeing this one up close will give you a sneak peek into his style. it’s a little messy, with scratchy lines and colors bleeding outside the borders. despite that, it has a distinct style that you’re fond of. it’s not perfect, let alone does it look like the super-heroes you’ve been reading in your comics. but it has a quality to it that feels less polished and flat. it has character. the messiness makes it feel more… real.
you set his name tag down, placing it back next to the large stack of comics. these must be his go-backs. he’s been so wrapped up with his shipment he probably hasn’t had time to put them away. you think maybe it would be nice to help a bit. he’s been nice enough to let you borrow comics from the store, and you’re just waiting around after all.
you pick up the stack of comics, situating them into your arms, when you look down and see that under the stack is mark’s notepad. it’s not closed like you’re used to seeing it, opened to a clean white page with a drawing covering up a majority of it. it’s in a comic book style, you’re not surprised. but it has the same quality that his name tag doodle does; scrawly and messy, with no real precise lines. the colors are splashed across the page, with blotches of scribbled colored marker decorating it. then realize what it is—who it is.
it’s you.
the whole image captures you and a little bit of your surroundings. positioned at your normal spot at the register, you’re looking down at a comic with your fingers playing with the ends of your hair. but it has a dream-like feel to it, with the pages of the comic illuminating your face as if a source of power is emanating from it. and then the best part: the wings. placed behind your shoulders are pair of feathered wings, outstretched in a sketched black ink. it’s beautiful.
it’s beautiful and it’s you. mark drew you.
“yo, sorry that took so long,” mark says while emerging from the back, eyes still focused on the comic in his hands. “i finally found it, but dude i had to do some digging—”
mark’s words are cut short when he notices you holding his notepad, comics that were placed atop abandoned on the counter by you. he visibly gulps.
“mark…” you start, not moving your eyes from the drawing. “what’s this?” without a response for a few moments, you tear your eyes away to see mark with blush on his cheeks, mouth open but unable to let any words out. “did you… did you draw me?”
“look, it gets really slow during the day, i just did a little sketch to pass time—”
“mark, this isn’t just a sketch,” you say, looking back down at the notepad. “this is amazing.”
“y-you like it?” mark says, hand rubbing the back of his neck.
“of course i like it,” you say.
“you don’t think it’s weird that i drew you without telling you?” mark asks, nervousness radiating from him.
“i don’t think it’s weird at all,” you say. “i actually love it. i like that you drew me as a superhero too, and one with wings at that.”
mark stays quiet, looking at his feet and probably overthinking everything right now. you look back up at him, tension building in your stomach as you ask what you already know the answer to. “you like me, don’t you?”
mark lifts his head to meet your eyes. he bites his lip anxiously as he nods slowly.
a streak of courage overtakes you as you grab his arm to pull him closer, him tripping over his own feet and crashing into your chest. you’re leaned against the counter, with mark’s arm behind you and hand placed flat on the surface. your faces are close, and you can feel his breath. his eyes are glued onto your lips, and he swallows thickly.
“mark, just kiss me,” you mumble, aching for him.
he wastes no time, leaning in to slot his lips between yours. he snakes an arm around your waist, holding you as close as he can. you melt into him, goosebumps floating across your skin in all-consuming desire. you move your hand to hold his cheek, thumb swiping on his smooth skin and fingers tangled in his soft, messy hair.
he pulls away, breath still shaky. “i’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long…” he trails off before leaning in and kissing you again, this time with more passion. he swipes his tongue between your lips, with you willingly accepting him. his hands trail up and down your sides, then finally places a firm grip on your waist and lifting you to sit on the counter. he slots between your legs, his body pressed close to yours. your fingers card through his hair, earning a sweet hum from him.
his hands trail down to your ass, pushing you closer against him to where you feel the bulge forming in his jeans. he can’t even hold back his moan, it being muffled by your lips. he pulls away again, this time kissing from your cheek down to your neck. he sucks at the expanse of skin while he caresses the other side of your throat. you let out a soft hum in pleasure, savoring every bite and lick—
“fuck, you sound so hot too,” he says in between kisses. he moves a hand down to your breast, kneading it roughly. you throw your head back, soaking in the pleasure from just his hands alone. his beautiful fucking hands, the ones that drew you. his lips feel so good on you, but his hands feel even better. it’s as if he’s been waiting for this moment for eternity and he doesn’t want to let you go. almost as if holding you, touching you is the only thing keeping him grounded in reality. it doesn’t feel real to you either; that mark, the cute boy you’ve had a crush on for weeks and weeks is kissing you, holding you, and yearning for you all the same.
you feel so wrapped up in the moment that you almost forget that you’re in public. sure, there’s no one left in the mall and the only people left are probably mall security, but the risk of being seen is still there. it just feels too good to stop.
“mark,” you say, giving in to the anxiety. “are we really doing this? right here, right now?”
he pulls back to look at you, still holding you close. “it’s just us here, and if it’s okay with you, i don’t think i can wait any longer.”
“i don’t think i can either,” you respond.
suddenly mark is ripping your clothes off, all while pulling you both behind one of the comic display cases. it’s your turn to take his clothes off, and you’re yanking his jacket off and pulling up his graphic tee and discarding them both on the floor. the exchange is a jumbled mess of constant touching of skin and clothes flying in every direction, a true testament to how desperate you both want each other. he’s kissing you all the while, taking every opportunity to peck at you between the tugging of clothes.
he leans you against the display bookshelf full of comics, completely unbothered when an issue or two falls off. your hand travels down into this jeans, feeling him hard and pulsing against your palm. you stroke his length slowly, focusing most of the stimulation on his dripping head. he lifts one of your legs slightly to get better access to you under your skirt, then looks at you as if he’s asking for permission.
you nod your head profusely before leaning in to kiss him deeply. it doesn’t last long, because suddenly he’s pushing inside you and you’re gasping at the stretch—
“you’re so—fuck—so fucking tight,” he hisses, attempting to push in as slowly as he can. your mouth is fully agape in bliss as he finally bottoms out, reaching deep inside of you. he catches your eyes, lust filled in his own as he slowly starts to move.
he’s slow at first, knowing that his size is stretching you out to the point where it’s nearly painful. but it feels so fucking good, his cock dragging in and out of your tight walls. you can tell he wants to pick up the pace, with his breath shuddering with each stroke. you take the opportunity to kiss him again, wanting to taste his soft lips as he gradually begins to pound into you.
he’s groaning against your lips, and your moans are muffled against his. you’re trying to salvage any sort of public decency by holding back your sounds the best you can. it’s when he grabs your legs and lifts you to press you against the display shelf that you realize that that shred of awareness of your surroundings is about to be long fucking gone.
he’s holding you up by gripping your ass, pistoning into you at a pace that you can only describe as brutal. it’s no use trying to stifle your moans anymore, with him hitting your cervix over and over and making you see stars at each stroke—
“mark, it feels so fucking good,” you can only whine out to him, wrapping your arms around his neck tighter, tugging at his hair—
“you feel so fucking good, jesus,” he groans against your neck, heaving breaths tickling at your throat.
his pace is wild, but the force in which he’s pounding into you begins to cause the comic books around you to tumble off the shelves, creating a pile at mark’s feet. he doesn’t seem to care though. that is, until a comic book falls from a shelf above you and hits him on the head.
“ah!” he exclaims, realizing what happened. he stops his movements to look at you, holding back a smile.
you can’t hold back your laugh, giggling profusely at the ridiculousness of the situation. he laughs too, shaking his head and letting out a sigh.
“this is crazy,” he says, resting his forehead on yours.
“i know,” you reply, still giggling. with one last laugh, he leans in and kisses you tenderly, smile still formed on his lips. you melt into him, ruffling your fingers through his hair as he begins to pick back up the roll of his hips into you.
it feels like a sweet moment, the fact that you can be doing such a scandalous act and still giggle with him. the tenderness doesn’t last for long, however, when he hits that perfect spot inside you that forces you to release a sharp moan.
“mark, oh my god,” you whimper, attempting to roll your hips down onto him. “keep doing that, please—”
“fuuuck,” he groans, feeling your core clenching around his length. “you take me so well, baby.”
all you can do now is nod, whimpering and whining on him. you can’t believe that this man that has always been so endearing, so kind and lovable has this completely different side to him that you’re only now getting to experience. it brings a different sort of intrigue to him; that he’s more than just a cute boy that works at a mall. he’s complex. he’s a fucking man. he’s a fucking. sex. god.
his breathing starts to become irregular, and his pace is back to merciless. his groans, fuck, his moaning. he’s bouncing you on his cock in the perfect way to where your moans are matching his. you can feel his dick pulsing inside you—
“i’m gonna cum,” he can only breathe out, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “can i?”
“yes mark, please,” you whine, tugging at the ends of his hair. all the while you’re clenching around his cock, bringing him closer and closer to his release.
with a low groan, his hips stutter and you feel his seed spilling into you, completely filling you up. the rocking of his hips stall, and he’s finally letting you down and kissing you sweetly, caressing your cheek with his hand.
“god, you are fucking perfect,” he whispers to you. you let out a giggle, leaning your forehead against his. “hey, i’m not done with you yet.”
he quickly moves you to the glass display counter, lifting you to sit you on it. he pushes your thighs open, lifting your skirt up to get a better look at you. he looks enamored, like he’s starving and the only thing to appease his hunger is by having you on his mouth.
he dives in, licking a stripe up your core with a groan. he repeats this action, as if he’s savoring every drop of your essence mixed with his release that’s slowly dripping out of you—
“so fucking hot,” he hums, releasing a hand from your thigh to tease at your entrance.
“mark, please,” you beg. “stop teasing—”
he attaches his mouth to your clit, swirling his tongue around in smooth, controlled circles. your hands fly to his head, body already twitching from stimulation. his finger is still prodding at your hole, wanting to enter but not just yet. he instead continues to ravage at your sensitive bud, intentional movements making your head spin. he knows what he’s doing and he knows he’s good, especially with the shaking of your thighs and high pitched moans escaping your lips egging him on.
he looks up at you, flattening his tongue out and doing long, drawn out licks. the eye contact is insane, the lust filled in them only making it that much hotter. he’s enjoying every second of this, seeing you shake and begging him to keep going. he loves the taste of you too, so sweet and almost addictive. he could die like this.
his teasing finger finally starts to deepen inside you, slowly at first. he can feel every pulse of your core around his finger, and it’s so hot that he can feel himself getting hard again. and you’re so wet, oh my god, so fucking wet. your arousal is dripping down his chin and his hand, making a sticky mess. when you start to roll your hips onto his face, he swears he’s in heaven.
he inserts another finger, feeling that tightness grip around them. it’s only getting more erratic now, clenching around him with each grind of your hips. he curls his fingers to prod at that sensitive spot, causing you to moan out his name—
“mark, don’t stop,” you whine, looking down at him basically making out with your pussy.
he continues the same movements, repeatedly hitting your g spot and swirling his dripping tongue on your clit. your back arches and legs unintentionally close around his head, making him push them back open with his free hand.
and then he starts humming against you. the vibrations send a shock wave through your body, that mixed with his fingers, his tongue, his hand gripping tightly against your thigh… it feels so intense and so so good. you cum on his tongue, with him desperately holding your hips down and he helps you ride out your high. he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, and you have to grab his head and lift it.
“oh my god,” you gasp, slowly coming down.
he smirks up at you with arousal-coated lips. “yeah, oh my god.” he stands up, immediately going to kiss you and you accepting him, wrapping your arms around him. he pulls away and leans his head against yours.
“i can’t believe we just did that,” he says, sighing out an exasperated laugh.
“i know, what the fuck, right?” you giggle.
“are you- are you doing anything right now?” he asks. “like, do you wanna get food or something?”
“are you asking me on a date?” you ask teasingly.
“don’t tell me you decided you’re creeped out by the drawing now,” he laughs.
“yeah. suuuper creeped out,” you joke, leaning in for another kiss. you hear a noise behind you, and look out through the security shutters to see a mall security guard passing by, scrolling through his phone.
“looks like he just missed the show,” mark says, causing you both to try and hold back your fit of giggles.
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a/n: thank u guys for reading! i rly enjoyed this one hehe :-) please leave feedback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!
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menagerofmischief · 19 days ago
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Nugget Update (MV1)
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sumary: y/n's always giddy after getting a nugget update, sure she loves her best boy, but it also has something to do with the cat sitter sending the updates
driver!reader x cat sitter!max verstappen -> habs incoming... series masterlist
cw: not fia approved words, a bit of lance hate (I don't actually hate him), mutual pinning, the grid teasing the reader, lot of appearances from the reader's cat, kissing, kinda mean!reader (to the grid)
wc: 4.1k
a/n: this is my first time writing in 2nd person so bear with me. also, I low key hate this and it may be shit. not proof read!
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“Well aren’t you a ball of sunshine?” A voice called out, disturbing the peace - or the closest thing to peace you could have near a Formula 1 track.
Your gaze snapped up, eyes narrowing as you took in the man standing on the entry of the RedBull garage. “Hello, Charles,” you replied, a teasing bite obviously heard in your voice as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know you wanted to experience what a successful garage looks like but I thought Ferrari had a better hold on you.”
Charles laughs, his eyes crinkling as his lips stretch into a smile. Teasing Charles was always a fun time but that’s all it was, just a bit of fun. It never stretched into something meaner, just two people showing affection by teasing each other.
Charles had been your very first real friend on the grid. The first to offer his hand with a smile and genuinely mean it. The first to congratulate you on a win after getting out of the car or the first to say that the next race would be better. Really, he was your best friend, but you would never tell him that or it would go to his head.
“Funny, very funny.” He said, his accent thick. His eyes slid around the motor home until finally meeting your own. “Lot of drivers are going out for drinks, came by to invite you.”
“I don’t Charles,” you started to say, going through your mental list of excuses, searching for the best one to use to avoid this social interaction.
“Oh come on!” He whined, rolling his eyes. He gave you a look that let you know you could stop thinking about an excuse because he wasn’t going to be buying it. “We won’t stay that long and it’s night race tomorrow so you don’t need to wake up at the crack of dawn.”
You pressed your lips together, the lip gloss previously applied making them slide against each other easily. 
Charles kissed his teeth, nodding his head along. Fine, he’ll play the game. “Some of the WAG’s are coming as well.”
“Are you really trying to lure me out by promising female company?”
“Is it working?”
“Eh,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Will you pay my tab?”
Charles scoffed. “Pay your tab?” He asked, sounding as if you had asked him for his firstborn. “You’re filthy rich! You have a bigger salary than me!”
“Yeah, they do pay world champions a bit extra, comes with the title.” You replied, grinning at him, a wide teasing grin, your eyes twinkling. 
“Fine whatever, I’ll pay your tab.” He said, raising his hands in surrender. “Now go take that suit off and shower, you look disgusting.”
“You look like a trash can threw you up!”
“It threw me up because it saw you!” Charles shouted back in response, his back already turned to you as he walked away, back to the Ferrari garage. 
And that’s how you ended up in the bar, an hour later. Squished in the not too comfortable and definitely not meant to sit so many people, booth. With George’s girlfriend Carmen on your left, and Pierre’s girlfriend Kika on your right, and deep in conversation with both of them. 
You feel your phone vibrate under your hand on the table, and the screen lights up, showing off your wallpaper, a picture of your beloved cat Nugget.
You tune off from the conversation the moment the message arrives, grabbing your phone and pulling it in towards you. Your face lights up, lips stretching into a smile as your eyes focus on the sender ID. Maxie.
Or rather Max. The very cute guy who was your cat sitter whenever you were out and about in the world, chasing the racing track. 
With a quick move of your fingers, you swipe up, opening your phone and going into the message app. Fingers quickly tapping along the screen of your phone as you type out your reply.
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With a smile you closed the messages app, pressing your fingers against the button on the side of your phone, watching the screen go black before setting it face down onto the table. As you looked back up, Lando’s amused yet teasing expression caught your eye.
You leaned forward against the table, pressing your hands to the wooden surface as you attempted to get a bit closer to the driver on the other side of the table. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Oh nothing,” he said with a laugh. “Just wondering who you’re texting, that’s all.” He intertwined his fingers, elbows pressed against the table and leaned forward as well. “You were all grumpy cat but then you get a message and suddenly you’re all smiles.”
“Grumpy cat?” You scoff, rolling your eyes at the McLaren driver. “I’m not a grumpy cat. And for the record, that was Nugget’s babysitter and he was sending me a picture of Nugget.”
Lando laughs, there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you he wants to say more but he holds himself back. “Can I see? I haven’t seen the orange gremlin in so long.”
“That’s very mean,” you say, opening your phone to show him the picture, that Max had sent you. “Nugget would never say that about you.”
“That’s because Nugget can’t speak.” He looks at the screen and his lips twist upward in a smirk. “Who’s Maxie?”
You breathe out through your nose, teeth digging into your bottom lip. When you speak your voice is sharp, it leaves no room for questioning things or an invite to ask more questions. “The cat sitter.”
“I’m sure that’s all he is.” Lando laughs when you show him your middle finger before settling back into your seat and returning to the previously abandoned conversation with the two WAG’s.
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The race went pretty smoothly, as always. Starting from pole, keeping the lead the whole race and with a 20s gap to car in P2. Everything after that was pretty much a blur, the interviews, partying through the night with the grid and boarding the jet early in the morning.
The sun already started setting by the time you made it to Monaco. With a sigh you rummaged through your bag, blindly feeling around the stuff inside before your fingers finally wrapped around the keys.
Opening the apartment door you walked inside, gently laying down your suitcase as your eyes settled on the scene in your living room. Right there, laying on your couch, in deep sleep, and cuddling your cat is Max Verstappen. 
His hair had fallen over his eyes and the position he’s in looks rather uncomfortable, you’re sure his body will be aching when he wakes up. His chest was raising and falling with each breath he took, little sighs slipping past his lips. Nugget was cuddled up to him, curled in a ball.
You looked at him for a few moments before starting to move around as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him up. 
Max had been cat sitting for you for a while now. Half of last season and now half of this one so almost a year. He was a sweet, kinda shy, mostly nerdy guy you ran into in a coffee shop and spilled his coffee. You offered to buy him a new one and he joined you for the coffee and you got to talking when he said he was looking for a job so you offered him to become your pet sitter.
At that point you really did need someone to look after your cat while you were gone, since you had broken up with your ex who usually took care of Nugget while you were away. And you couldn’t leave Nugget with your parents since your father was allergic to cats.
Now, your best friend who had been working in a different country had returned to Monaco and said she’d be more than happy to look after Nugget - but you wanted to keep Max around. 
Already having grown used to coming home after a race weekend to find him there, just existing in your space.
Nugget’s whiskers twitch, his eyes opening and he pulls himself away from Max, stretches out and then trots over to you, rubbing his head against your leg affectionately while purring. He let out a happy, albeit a bit too loud, meow when you picked him up and on the other side of the room Max began stirring from his sleep.
He opened his eyes, a bit confused, and rubbed his knuckles against his eyes to wake up, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light filling up the room. 
“You’re back,” he says, his voice is gentle, still sleepy and a bit quiet. His eyes meet yours and he offers you a sweet smile that has you immediately smiling back at him. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep, sorry about that.”
“Oh no, it’s no problem,” you reply, running your hand over Nugget’s fur as the cat lay happily in your arms. “You can use the guest bedroom if you’re tired, you know. The couch may be expensive but that doesn’t mean it’s comfortable for sleep.”
“I didn’t want to overstep,” Max said, pulling himself up into a sitting position. You approached the couch and sat down, the cat nestling in your lap and purring in content. Max smiled, reaching out his hand and petting Nugget.
“Nonsense Max, you’re not overstepping.” You cut him off, leaving no room for argument. You always told him to feel at ease in your apartment, that he was welcome to any food in the fridge and free to use the guest room as he pleased but even after all this time there was still a slight air of awkwardness backed up by the fear of going a bit too far.
Max’s eyes settled on you, your own focused on your cat so you didn’t notice him looking. He watched the way you cooed at Nugget, asking if he was a good boy while you were away and petting him gently, and his lips stretched into a small, careful smile.
He spoke before thinking. The words left his mouth before he even finished the thought inside of his head. “I watched the race,” he said, and your eyes instantly snapped up to meet his. He swallowed, already too deep to back down. “It - “ he licked his lips, trying to decide his next words, feeling like his tongue had tied itself up in a knot. “You were spectacular. It was lovely … simply lovely.”
You let out a breath, the corners of your mouth twisting upwards and you gave him a thankful look. Max swore he could feel his heart beating in his throat, and felt his cheeks heat up. “Thank you,” you said, your voice gentle, holding a comforting tone. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. And it’s nice - knowing you watched.”
“It is?”
You bit your lip, teeth scraping against you bottom lip as you looked at him, your brain running faster than the Sauber (like it’s hard) as you tried to come up with a response. “It’s kind of comforting,” you finally said, after what felt like a small forever.
You hummed, looking down at your nails. “I was thinking about bringing Nugget with me to the next race. It’s been a while since he was in the paddock.”
“Oh,” Max said, an edge of confusion noticeable in the tone of his voice. “Does that mean that you don’t need me coming over next week?”
“Actually, I was hoping you would come with.” You say, before you can talk yourself out of making the proposition.
Max tilts his head to the side, kind of like a confused cat and you try your best not to giggle at the mental image. “I’m not sure I’m following.”
“If you wanted to attend the Grand Prix,” you tell him, running the edge of one of your nails along your skin. “Cuz’ I’m still gonna need someone to look after Nugget, and you do that in general so this would just be an added bonus of traveling.”
Max is silent for a few moments and you think he’ll decline. You wouldn't fully blame him if he did, you know what the pressure of the paddock can be like. You’re about to open your mouth, tell him that ‘never mind, it was a stupid idea anyway’ and put him out of the trouble of finding a polite way to decline when he finally speaks. 
“I suppose, if you want me to then yeah, I’ll come along to watch Nugget.” He says, trying to ignore the nervous feeling building up in his chest when you smile at him, a wide happy smile that makes him instantly smile back.
“Great!” You said, the excitement evident in your voice. “Someone from the team will contact you in a while to arrange the tickets and leave the rest to me.” Max nods, he doesn’t trust himself to speak, not with the way his throat is closing up and it makes him feel like he can’t breathe.
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“Look at you all giggly,” Charles teased, gently pushing your shoulder with his hand. He wiggled his eyebrows, a laugh slipping past his lips as you glared at him.
“Charles, why don’t you turn around and flash your pretty face to the crowd.” You said, rolling your eyes. You looked at the stadium full of people who were shouting out for their favorite drivers, waving banners and cheering happily. You smiled towards the stadium and lifted your hand up, waving your fingers to the public. “Give them a wave.”
“See, I always knew you thought I was pretty,” Charles replied, waving at the public. The two of you and the rest of the grid were in a wagon, going around the track for the drivers parade, so essentially you were stuck with him for at least five more minutes. “Now, do tell who’s got you smiling like that.”
“Is it Maxie?” Lando asked, the teasing tone evident in his voice. He pushed himself closer to you and Charles, inserting himself into the conversation. 
“Didn’t your mom teach you not to eavesdrop?” 
“No, no!” Charles said, shaking his head as he waved his hand dismissively as you, his full attention now focused on Lando. “Who’s Maxie?”
Lando smiled at him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “The cat sitter,” he said in a sing-song kind of voice. 
“The one you brought to your garage?” The Ferrari driver asked, his attention back on you. “The pretty one.”
“Hold up!” Lando almost shouted, raising his hands. “You brought him with you to the Grand Prix?!”
“I didn’t … well I did bring him.” You said with a sigh, there was no escaping this now. “But it’s not like that. He’s here to watch Nugget.”
“And for you to watch him - because boy that is one good arm candy.”
“Charles, your homosexual is showing,” you warned.
“But you’re not denying it,” Charles noted, giving you a smirk.
You rolled your eyes at him but finally gave in. “Yes, I’m not denying it.”
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You stepped back into the motor home, your eyes immediately searching for Max and finally you found him talking to your lead engineer. As you approached the two you could start to hear their conversation and quickly realized they were talking about how the car worked and what went on behind the scenes at a Grand Prix. You found it cute that Max was interested in that.
His eyes met yours and his face lit up, the corners of his mouth twisting upwards into a smile. “You’re back!” He said, “After terrorizing everyone around and getting pets, Nugget decided to settle down for a nap. He’s in your driver's room.”
Max gave you a wink after saying that and you had to hold in a giggle. You excused yourself to go to your driver’s room, with Max following behind you. The first thing you noticed when you went inside was Nugget, curled up on the massage bed and sleeping without a care.
The next thing that grabbed your attention was a dozen pastries lined up on a small table next to the couch. They were all individually wrapped in tissues.
“Max,” you said, picking up one of the pastries and unwrapping it. “I really did mean only one pastry, you know?” You bit into the chocolate filled pastry, moaning at the taste of a treat you weren’t usually allowed to have when it was race week. “My trainer will strangle me if he sees.”
“I swear, no one saw anything.” Max said, shuffling over to the couch and sitting down. “I was sneakier than Nugget when he’s stealing my food.”
“Oh, now that’s a very serious claim.” You told him with a laugh, his own laugh echoing back. You picked up one of the wrapped pastries and offered it to him. “Take one, or five. There’s no way I’m eating it all.”
He takes the pastry you’re offering him, his fingers brushing against your own as he takes it from your hand, sending sparks of electricity down your spine. After a second of hesitation you sit down next to him, the two of you eating the treats in comfortable silence.
His thigh nudges against yours and you turn to face him, finding that he’s already looking at you. He smiles and you don’t hesitate to smile back.
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The practices go great, P2 in FP1, P1 in FP2 and P1 in FP3. 
The qualifying is where a slight setback shows up, with quali being ended early due to a crash and a red flag, putting you in P10 for the start of the race tomorrow.  
Once the car had rolled back into the pits you wasted no time getting out, putting the steering wheel back into place before storming into your driver’s room. 
You pulled your helmet off, fingers curling into the bottom of your balaclava as you pulled it off, throwing it next to your helmet before bringing your hands up to smooth down your hair. 
“I’m not in the fucking mood, Pepe.” You said without turning around, assuming it was your race engineer coming to talk about the outcome of qualifying. “Fucking Lance and his fucking money made seat - if that little frog screws up another quali, I’ll be the one crashing him out.”
“I’m not Pepe,” the other person in the room says and you instantly turn around, your eyes wide as they meet Max’s blue ones. “And I’m certainly glad I’m not Lance.”
You looked him up and down, eyes trailing over his figure. You took notice of Nugged, cuddled up in his arms and looked at you curiously, and reached your hand out to pet the cat, a long breath slipping past your lips. 
“Sorry,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “I didn’t really mean for you to hear that.”
Max barely heard what you were saying. Too distracted by the sight of you for his brain to properly register your words. Your skin was slightly glistening with sweat, an imprint from where your helmet and balaclava had dug into your skin still visible on your flushed cheeks. Your messy hair, and your chest raising and falling with each breath you took as you were still working on catching up your breath.
Max blinked, finally snapping out of his thoughts and focusing his attention back to what you were saying. “They should have let you finish the lap.” 
“I agree but sadly that’s not how it works.”
Max nodded along, not really knowing what to say to that so he switched to the next topic. “I ran into your friend. He invited you, and me, out for drinks. I think it would be nice to go, you seem like you need a drink.”
“Yeah, I definitely do.” You replied, taking Nugget from his arms and into your own, stroking down the cat’s body. “Which friend?”
“Uh,” Max started, thinking of a way to describe the guy since he couldn’t remember his name. “Wears red, pretty, sounds French.”
You laughed, smiling at him. “That’s Charles. I hope you didn’t tell him he sounds French, he gets offended by that.”
“Then it’s great I kept it to myself.”
You laughed in reply, putting Nugget down to the floor, the cat immediately moving to a cozy corner and curling up into a ball on the floor, shutting his eyes. “The hotel is right next to the track, you can take Nugget back while I shower and then we can go - if you want to.”
“Sounds like a deal,” Max replied with a smile.
You showered and put on a clean set of clothes just in time to meet Max after he finished dropping Nugget back to the hotel, leaving him with toys, food and water. The two of you made your way to the bar to join the rest of the grid for a night out. 
Some of the drivers were playing pool while their girlfriends were engrossed in a conversation so that left you and Max sitting together, sharing drinks and talking.
“I just …” you started, cracking your fingers. “I don’t know, this quali really messed up my mood and I was riding on such a high after the practices going well. It all feels shit now.”
“Maybe you just need more motivation for the race.” Max offered, drinking the rest of the liquor from his glass in one go. 
“You have something in mind, Maxie?” You asked, the nickname slipping past your lips without a thought now that you’ve had a few drinks. 
“How about a kiss if you get on the podium?” He said, his voice suggestive. Normally he never would have dared to say something like that but the alcohol courage really worked wonders. 
Your eyes widened, clearly not expecting him to be so bold or to suggest that. He took your reaction as a bad sign, immediately straightening up as a wave of dread quickly sobered him up.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, the expression on his face shifting into a panicked one. “That was stupid. It was thoughtless. It was -”
“A great motivation,” you cut him off, putting a finger up against his lips to silence him. “It was a great motivation.”
His cheeks burned as his eyes met yours. He looked so vulnerable, his bright eyes impossibly wide. “Yeah?”
“Yeah!”
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“One more corner to go but you’re in the clear,” Pepe’s voice echoed over the radio. You blinked, your eyes focused on the track before you, the checkered flag already visible along with your team gathering in the front. “That’s P1, Y/n. Phenomenal drive today, you deserved it!”
“Thank you,” you said, your voice breathless as you moved your hands, going through the last corner and speeding towards the finish line. “Thank you, Pepe.” You repeated, swallowing your spit. “It was lovely, simply lovely.”
You put the car into P1, getting out and posing for a picture on top of your car. You could hear the shouts, the cheers, the celebration. You took off your helmet, ripping off your balaclava and putting them both into the car before turning around to face the team, eyes searching for a particular face. 
Finally, you spotted Max. Standing besides your engineer, a proud expression on his face as he looked at you with a wide smile. You didn’t hesitate, feet moving before you could think and then you were in front of him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down, smashing your lips into his.
The kiss was desperate, both of having waited long enough for it. He wrapped his arms around you, the best he could with the fence between you, kissing you back with need. 
You finally pulled away when you felt your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, learning your forehead against his. Nothing else mattered, not the public, not the team, not the celebration. Only him, finally yours.
“Simply lovely, right?” You asked, your voice breathless.
“Simply lovely!” Max repeated back to you, before kissing you once again. And he really did mean it - everything was simply lovely.
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tag list: @formula1-motogpfan @misty-inferno @thelemonque3n @marvel-hotchner @strangemaximoff @folkloresreputation @pippyth3hippy @adharacambridge @theseerbetweenus @sebastianstansblog @tellybearryyyy @six-call @grussellsprout @oikarma @justcharlotte @annimausi
i hope i tagged everyone who said they wanted to be on the tag list. hope you enjoyed this one and keep an eye out for the poll about the next part of the series <3
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borathae · 3 months ago
Text
If I Was Your Boyfriend
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"If he was your boyfriend, he would give you the actual world. Sadly he is just your best friend with the biggest unrequited crush ever."
Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader
Genre: Unrequited Crush!AU, Idiots in Love!AU, Best Friends to Lovers!AU, Slice of Life, Fluff, Romance
Warnings: OC is scared of a bug (me fr), he kills it for her, he would do anything for her, yearning, unrequited feelings (? mhhm ?), listen. he may be a lil bit dense when it comes to reading signs jsjjss bless his heart, i need him as my boyfriend, so much tension between them, jsjsjs this is pure torture i want them to kiss!!, brief mention of adult toys, miscommunication because he suuucks at love confessions, protective & slightly jealous!Kook, he is the greenest flag though like seriously, the happiest end hihi, the inspo was seven mv kook, she is shorter than him because i have the hugest size kink with him and this is so self-indulgent <3, once again i need him as my boyfie
Wordcount: 10.5k
a/n: sometimes i have ideas for one specific trope without wanting to write the whole book lmaooo, so enjoy this lil slow burn fluff scenario which is so self-indulgent and fanfiction coded. also, it was inspired by a real life event where i found a bug in my bed and i had to kill it on my own :( i was being very brave about it 😔 ps: this is very unrealistic 'cause like why would you only be best friends with HIM? that wouldn't be an unrequited crush if that was me. happy birthday to kookie 💛
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The call comes around two at night. Jungkook picks up with the first ring. He was working out before that.
“Hello? Are you okay?” he asks, resting his head against the edge of the sofa as he is currently sitting on the floor. He was doing sit ups before that, trying his hardest to regulate his sped-up breathing right now.
“Kook, please help me.”
Jungkook sits up straight.
“Where are you? Are you safe?”
“I don’t know. I think it’s following me. I locked it inside my room but I can still hear it.”
“Stay with me, I’m getting dressed”, he says, jumping to his feet to hurry to his front door.
“Please hurry please. I’m so scared.”
“I’m coming, don’t worry. Are you home?”
“Yes. Hurry please.”
“I’m coming, stay strong. Yeah?”
“Yes, thank you”, you say and end the call.
Jungkook curses, shoving the phone into his pants pocket. He puts on his jacket as he runs down the hallway and puts on his beanie once he is inside the elevator. He is restless in the small space, wishing for it to go quicker. It’s too slow.
“Come on, come on”, he stresses it, knowing that it is fruitless.
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You are his best friend. Well, at least that is what you would call him. Best friend. Jungkook sees so much more in you. His best friend, his person of trust, his crush. He would never tell you his feelings because he doesn’t want to make it awkward. But if there were no consequences for speaking up, Jungkook would tell you that you are his dream girl. You are funny, sweet, caring, talented, intelligent, wonderful, perfect, amazing, beautiful, pretty, stunning. Yes, Jungkook thinks that you are all of these things and more. When he is close to you, his heart races and he wants to keep looking at your face. When you are sad, he wants to make you happy again and when you smile, he wants to keep it on your face. When you aren’t with him, he misses you and when you are with him, he hopes that time stops passing. You are the person he updates on the most mundane of things and whose text messages always bring a quick flutter to his chest. Your voice is the voice he could listen to for hours and your face is the face he doesn’t get tired of staring at when you and he video chat late night till you and he both run out of things to say. And at the same time, you are the person with whom Jungkook never runs out of things to talk about, if he didn’t have to breathe, he would continue to babble to you until your ears wore off. Jungkook swears that if there were no consequences for his words, he would tell you all of this. 
But alas, there are consequences and so Jungkook is left keeping his true feelings hidden.
The outcome of tonight’s phone call obviously wouldn’t have changed whether or not he had romantic feelings for you. Jungkook loves you as a friend as well. And he will always be there for his friends. Especially when they are clearly scared by something.
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Jungkook rings your bell. You open the door as if you were waiting for him, grabbing him by his wrists to drag him inside. Jungkook’s entire body flutters at the feeling of your touch. 
“Finally you are here. Come in quick, please”, you tell him.
You must have been sleeping already. You are in your pyjamas and have no make-up on. Jungkook swears that you have never looked more beautiful before. 
“What happened? Did someone break in?” he asks instead of telling you that you are beautiful.
“Worse.”
“Worse?”
“Kook, there is a huge bug in my room. Please kill it.”
Jungkook stops in his tracks. You call him over for that? You stop when you feel his strength all of a sudden, looking over your shoulder. He has his right brow cocked up.
“What?” you stress.
“You give me a heart attack for that?”
“What? Of course. It’s a bug.”
Jungkook sighs in annoyance, “seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.” You round him to shove him by his back. “Kill it for me, please Kook.”
“Fine, I’ll kill it”, he gives up and groans, letting you shove him to your bedroom. Jungkook would never dare to think this way, but right now he wished that you were shoving him to your room for something else. Nothing dirty of course, just cuddles. Lots of cuddles. He would literally trade both his kidneys so he could hold you in his arms until you fall asleep just once. He would make sure that you were warm and that you felt safe in his embrace. He would kiss your face and tell you sweet nothings like how he thinks of you when he listens to love songs and how he wishes that it was you and he whenever he sees a romantic scene in a movie.
God, Jungkook is so done for. 
“Where is this stupid bug?” he acts annoyed to make the yearning a little easier. It is difficult when you have your hands on his back and they are so, so warm.
“In there.” You open the door carefully and look around. “Follow me”, you say, tiptoeing into your room.
Jungkook follows you, smiling fondly. You are cute when you are acting like this. 
“Where is it?” he asks, trying his hardest not to think about how he wants to snuggle you for being cute.
“I don’t know. It was right there when I last saw it.”
“Maybe it’s already gone.”
“No, it was-” 
The bug flies past you, you scream instantly, jumping at Jungkook for help.
“The bug! Eeeek Kooook! I hate bugs!” you squeak, hiding away in his chest.
Jungkook hopes that you can’t feel his racing pulse, because it is racing. You never touched him like this before, let alone snuggled so close to him. 
Act cool. Act cool. Act cool. 
He wraps one arm around you, patting the back of your head. 
“There, there you big baby”, he teases.
“I hate bugs so much”, you whine, snuggling closer.
He glances down at you, feeling every beat his heart takes.
Act cool! Act cool! Act cool!
What if he wrapped both arms around you? Would that go too far? He wouldn’t mean anything dirty behind it, he just really wants to hug you and feel you melt in his arms.
“Kill it, Kook please”, you whine and move your head so you were looking up at him. Your eyes lock.
Jungkook bites down on his tongue, forgetting to breathe for just a few moments.
ACT COOL! ACT COOL! ACT COOL!
What if he cupped your face right here and now to kiss your nose and cheeks and forehead and chin and lips and eyes? What if he did that?
“Please kill it.”
“I am, you gotta let go for that”, he gets out, surprised at how normal his voice sounds eventhough he is currently losing his mind.
Please don’t let go. Please don’t let go. 
You let go. Disappointment from his side. You hide behind him and grab his waist for moral support. Butterflies in his tummy, his knees buckle a little. Holy moly. Holy moly. Wow. Oh wow oh wow oh wow. 
“You’re seriously so brave for this”, you tell him.
“Yeah, yeah or maybe you’re just a scaredy cat.”
He has no idea how he is able to talk properly right now when you have him literally messed up. 
Jungkook inches close to where the bug is sitting on the wall while his thoughts and heart are racing. He has to act nonchalant about the situation. You are only holding him like this because you are scared.
“Do you have a shoe?” he asks you, hating his hand for shaking when he presents it to you.
You bend down and take off your right slipper, “will this do?” 
“Perfect.” 
Jungkook takes the slipper and carefully moves closer to the bug. Your fingers tighten on his waist.
“Careful now”, you comment.
“I am” he gets out, concentrating vigorously. He can’t mess up now, you are counting on him. 
“Almost there. Almost there”, you cheer him on.
Jungkook slams the shoe down. The bug has no chance of escape. You scream.
“Gotcha.”
“Did you get it? Is it dead? Kook, is it dead?”
Jungkook lifts the slipper and looks at the squished bug on its sole. He shows it to you.
“Dead.”
“Yay, it’s dead. Ew how nasty, you can see the intestines.”
“Right. Give me a minute, I’m cleaning it.”
“Use acid for it. Just to be sure it doesn’t come back.
He chuckles, “sure, I’ll use acid.”
He leaves you in your bedroom to hurry to the bathroom. 
Your apartment is familiar to him. He spends a lot of time here. Mostly to chill on your couch and watch shows with you. Sometimes you also cook dinner together and then eat it by the table, while other times you do a workout together. Seriously, you are his fucking dream girl. 
One time as you and he were cooking together, he needed something from the shelf above you, but you couldn’t step away from the stove. So he got it while you were right in front of him and his chest brushed against your back and he swears that he heard your breath hitch for a moment. Jungkook wanted to hug you back then. When you later that evening turned to let him taste the cooking only to use the same fork to taste it yourself, Jungkook almost kissed you. 
One time when you were watching a show, you got cold hands and Jungkook offered to warm them for you. He didn’t think you would accept, but you did and so he ended up with your cold hands under his hoodie as you warmed them up on his skin. Jungkook swears that he wanted to pin you against the sofa and kiss your cute face back then.
One time when you were doing a workout together, you struggled with a movement and asked him for help. He ended up having to hold you by your hips as he guided you through the movement. He wanted to flip you and kiss you senseless back then. 
He never felt like this before. He was scared of these feelings at first, but now he can’t get enough. You are a foodie, a romance lover and a lover for couple workouts and it’s so impossible for him not to be in love. You are seriously his dream girl. There is no fucking way around this.
Jungkook knows that tonight will be such a memory as well. the kind of memory which tingles, but which also makes him regret that he didn’t act differently. When you cuddled into him, he wanted to hug you properly. When you grabbed his waist he wanted to turn in your grasp and kiss you against the door. But he knows that he can’t. He would ruin what you are having and he could never get over this heartbreak.
Jungkook looks at your toothbrush as he cleans the shoe. Sometimes he thinks about how it would feel to be represented in your bathroom as the second toothbrush right next to yours.  
Jungkook bites down on his tongue, burning holes into the empty space next to your toothbrush. He would put so much effort into taking care of himself so you could always look at the best version of him. He would do skincare nights with you. He would try out hair masks with you and rub body lotion on the spots you can’t reach. He would brush his teeth, floss them and use mouthwash religiously just so his kisses would always taste good. He would do all of this if it meant you had an attractive boyfriend.
Jungkook looks away. He is doing it again, he is getting delusional. He shouldn’t do that. It isn’t his right. 
He turns off the water and leaves the bathroom so he could return the slipper to you.
You are in the kitchen, looking at him instantly.
“Is it gone?” you ask him.
“Yup, it’s gone. Your slipper.”
“Thank you seriously. You just saved my life”, you say and lift a bottle of his favorite beer. “Thank You Beer?”
He shakes his head, “I need to drive.”
“Okay. Then a Thank You Water?”
“Yeah, I can drink that.”
Jungkook accepts the offer because he can stay with you longer that way.
“Coming right up. Get comfy in the meantime.”
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Jungkook waits on the sofa, but stands up when you come inside the room. He accepts the water and sits back down. You plop down right in front of him, pulling your legs onto the pillow. Your knees are almost touching the side of thigh.
“You seriously saved my ass tonight. I was already in bed when I felt something tickle my arm and then I turned on the lights and it was right on my arm. I screamed so loud, you have no idea.”
“That sounds traumatic.”
“It was traumatic.” You shudder. “I hate bugs.”
Jungkook laughs softly.
“What? Are you laughing at me?”
“No, just laughing ‘cause I agree. You really hate bugs.”
“I do. Awful things, seriously.”
He laughs and you laugh as well. Your eyes meet again. He takes a sip of his water then asks a question which scares him a little.
“Why did you call me?”
“Why not?”
“I, I mean”, he stutters, feeling his heart do somersaults.
“You were my first thought. It’s probably because you’re always keeping me safe.”
Jungkook swears he wants to kiss you right now. He is the first person you think of when you need help. He is your safe person. Wow, wow, wow.
“Is that weird to say?” you ask him shyly.
“Not at all”, he gets out in a terribly hoarse voice.
“Okay phew. I knew that I could count on you.”
Jungkook gives you a smile. One you retort with a vast glance at his lips.
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Jungkook brings the empty glass to the kitchen to clean it after he finishes it. You follow him. 
“You don’t have to clean that”, you tell him, trying to reach for the glass but he moves it away.
“I got it”, he assures you, looking at you over his arm.
You and he are so close again. He can’t stop looking into your eyes. He knows that he is delusional, but in his mind, your eyes are so bright when you look at him. But it’s not real and he is acting stupid when he is staring like that. He turns his head away, blind to the few more seconds your eyes seem to linger on his face.
“What were you doing when I called you?” you ask him, watching his hands as he washes the glass.
“Working out.”
“Really? At this time?”
“That’s when I get energised.”
“Of course you do. What were you doing?”
“Just stuff on the floor.”
“Nice. Like push ups and stuff?”
“Yeah and sit ups.”
“That’s cool.” 
He has his back turned to you, putting away the glass. He is wearing a white oversized shirt, but the movement makes it stick to his body, showing not only his skinny waist but also his built, muscular back. His shoulders grew so much over the past seven months. (Seven months ago was when you decided to download a dating app and told Jungkook about it. Jungkook started working out harder since then.) 
He closes the cupboard and turns. 
“Something wrong?” he asks, somehow oblivious to your stares. 
“Nothing, no uhm.” You look to the side. “You probably wanna leave now?”
He doesn’t want to leave.
“If you still need me here, I can stay”, he offers.
Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes.
“Really?”
He nods his head, giving you a sweet smile with teeth. He would do anything for you, even mess up his sleep schedule.
“Maybe there is another bug, you know?” you say, playing with your own fingers shyly.
His heart is jumping in joy. He can stay longer. 
“That could be possible, yeah. Should we check?” he offers as calmly as possible.
“Yeah, please.”
Yay! Yay! Yay!
“I know I sound so stupid.”
“You don’t. Come on, I’ll check.”
You and he go to your bedroom together. Jungkook wants to hold your hand, but knows that he can’t. You close the door to your bedroom. His pulse flutters for a moment. In another lifetime, this would be the moment you pull him into a kiss. But Jungkook knows that stupid things like different lifetimes are stuff of movies, not reality.
He has to act as your best friend who doesn’t have a crush on you if he wanted to or not. He lifts your blanket and shakes it out.
“No bugs”, he comments.
“That’s good, yeah. I should probably check the pillows.”
You crawl onto bed and make it your job to flip each individual pillow. Jungkook looks at you for a moment. He hates that things like different lifetimes are stuff of movies. Because in a different lifetime, he jumps onto bed with you to hug you. He listens to your giggle and makes you giggle even harder by tickling your sides.
You, oblivious to his longing stares, flip yet another pillow. 
“No bugs here, thank god. I probably sound insane to you, but I’m actually so scared that there’s a whole bug family in this room.”
“You don’t sound insane. I’ll take care of them if we find them.”
“You’re seriously my hero.”
Jungkook is thinking. Maybe he could still make you laugh, he thinks. Not by showering you in skinship, but differently. 
“Hey, check this out”, he says.
“What? Did you find another bug?!” you gasp, whipping around instantly.
“I’m a bug. Bzzz”, he says and jumps onto bed, flapping his arms as if he was a bug flying.
You cough out air, following it up with a loud laugh.
Jungkook flops onto his back and wiggles his limps.
“Now I’m flipped onto my back and can’t get up”, he says, squirming from side to side stupidly. “Help me. Bzzzz.”
You laugh to the point it becomes just a little ugly and way too loud. At least you would call it that. Jungkook calls it the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. He loves to be goofy when it means that he can make you laugh. Some people call him childish and tell him to act his age, but Jungkook doesn’t care about these people because you love the way he is. You always smile and laugh so much when he gets goofy and childish and it is so worth every rude comment he gets. One time, he played around with a snapback hat, acting silly with it until you cackled loudly. Another time he showed you a card trick with goofy sound effects, basking in the giggles you gave him. He knows that he looks stupid in these moments, but he would literally turn into a silly jester if it meant that you could laugh just one more time.
“Help me, I’m a bug and I can’t get up”, he whines dramatically.
“Wait, I’ll help you”, you joke and place your hands on his torso. One on his chest, the other on his stomach.
He tenses up like a board of wood, forgetting all about being silly. His limbs drop, as does his heart. You are touching him! This never happened before when he acted goofy. What should he do? What is the correct reaction to this?
“Why are you such a heavy bug? I can’t flip you”, you are still being playful with him, but Jungkook can’t find humour anymore. He is starstruck. 
He chuckles deeply, letting out a breathy, “yeah.” 
You glance at him. The second your eyes meet, his heart is racing. You are so fucking beautiful. 
“Heh”, he lets out and places his hand over yours, eyes flitting to your lips unknowingly.
“Hm”, you let out, studying his gazing eyes. Your lips feel kissed just from his look. 
“Mhm”, he hums and smiles, shimmying his head just a little closer to you. He feels your minty breath swirl over his face like this, squeezing your hand in reaction. What if he just did it? What if he just kissed you right here and now?
Your smile falls.
“Sorry”, you whisper, pulling your hands back and sitting up. 
Jungkook gasps for air, coming back to reality. What was this moment? Is he going crazy? Why would he do that?
Your eyes meet for a brief second then you look away again, rubbing the side of your neck.
Jungkook sits up, “I should, uhm, probably check under the bed too, right?” he tries to change topics and rolls over to stick his head under the bed. He might die of heart palpitations.
There are a few boxes under the bed, some shoe boxes and an exposed adult toy. Jungkook does a double take. Oh god, panic.
Jungkook shoots back up, staring at you with big eyes.
“What?”
“You uhm…”
“What?” You crawl to the edge and bend down to look, shooting up again within a second, “What did you see??”
His entire face flushes, he looks to the side instantly, right hand coming to rub the side of his neck. Your entire face feels on fire, you want to die on the spot.
“I, I didn’t see anything I swear”, he stutters.
“Kook, please don’t remember this”, you insist, shaking him by his shoulders.
“It’s seriously fine”, he assures you, panicking so so much.
“This is so embarrassing.”
“No, it’s okay. Sorry for invading your space like that.”
“I’m actually gonna cry, please don’t remember this”, you beg him.
“I didn’t even see anything”, he lies, feeling his heart give up. For real, it will give up. He feels so guilty. You are so upset and uncomfortable and it’s all his fault. “I’m sorry.”
“No you, I guess, I don’t know, I just”, you stutter, unable to form any coherent sentences.
Jungkook feels just as awkward as you, suddenly needing to stand up.
“I think I should go”, he says.
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’s getting late.”
“Oh, yeah. Totally.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. You fucked it. You are internally panicking, blind to the fact that Jungkook is panicking as well.
His face is so red and it’s making him scared that you can see it. He doesn’t want you to think that he is imagining you like that, because he really isn’t. But for just a second it crossed his mind and it managed to dye his face so red that he feels like crying. Of course he wants to stay with you. Of course he wants to spend every single second of this night with you, talking and laughing and looking at you, but he might not be able to get rid of this blush right now. He needs to leave.
You follow behind him, panicking more and more. You let him put on his shoes and his beanie, you watch him close his jacket unable to say anything. You swear that you always clean up after yourself, but you were busy this morning and forgot to put it away after sanitizing it. Jungkook was never supposed to see it. Not him. Everyone but him.
“I’ll text you once I’m home”, Jungkook tells you.
“You’re not disgusted now, are you?” you finally get the scary words out.
“What?”
You are both dragging out the inevitable. 
“I don’t know, just…I tried the dating app stuff. I met people, you know?”
Jungkook feels like dying when you talk about this stuff. He stands in the apartment complex hallways, looking at you as you tell him about your hook ups and he wants to fucking die as he does. He has been loyal to you ever since he started this stupid crush on you. Of course he knows that it is impossible of him to expect the same from you. But he has been so fucking loyal to you that you literally broke his heart seven months ago when you told him about your newest download. He wasn’t strong enough to get over his crush, so now he dies all over again each time you tell him about your hook-ups.
“And it just felt weird. I couldn’t do it”, you confess.
“Really?” suddenly what happened before is wiped from his mind. You never went through with it? His loyalty was reciprocated? Jungkook knows that he is being so delusional right now and yet he still hangs on to your every word like a worshipper of your syllables, staring at your lips as you talk.
“Yeah, but I still have needs, you know? Oh god, why did I say that? This didn’t make it better. Just forget I ever said anything.”
“I, I didn’t hear anything”, Jungkook stutters, feeling weak-kneed. The wall between him being a good person and a reckless person is as fragile as a sheet of fresh ice. One wrong step from you and he might actually confess how he really feels.
“Okay good, let’s keep it at that.” You push at his chest. Jungkook swears he actually whimpers as you do it. “Go home and let us forget about all of this, please.”
Should he do it? Should he be reckless?
You step back, now standing in your apartment.
Do it! Open, mouth!
“Text me once you’re home, okay?”
“Okay.”
No! This isn’t the right thing to say! Be reckless!
“Thank you for tonight, sleep tight.”
“Sweet dreams.”
Tell her! Fucking tell her!
The door closes.
Jungkook falls out of his fearful trance, gasping for air. His heart tells him to knock for another chance, his mind tells him not to. He turns and leaves, hitting his own head as punishment for being the most stupid person that ever existed. Tonight could have gone so well. He could have had more time with you, he got the confirmation that you never tried the dating app thing, he had everything and he has to ruin it by being a creep. Why did he look under your bed? That’s where most people store their sexy stuff. Why did he have to make you uncomfortable? What if you never want to see him again? What if he ruined your friendship without ever doing the one thing he always wished to ruin it with? In his dreams he always ruined it by confessing his feelings, but his reality was because he was a creep.
Jungkook cries in his car on his way home. He forgets about texting you and spends a sleepless night regretting his choices.
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Maybe he did fall asleep, otherwise it would be impossible for his phone to rip him awake the next day. He barely opens his puffy eyes at first, but opens them widely when he sees that it is you calling him.
“Hello?” he picks up hastily.
“Oh thank god. You didn’t text me last night and I was worried.”
The text! Jungkook slaps his own forehead, sitting up straight.
“I’m so sorry, I…”
“It’s okay, I already had a gist that you forgot”, you assure him, “do you have time?” 
“Of course, what’s up?”
“You know, uhm.” You laugh in embarrassment. “Last night was a mess, wasn’t it?”
“No uhm, it’s fine.”
“You wouldn’t be down for a grocery trip with barbeque and beer afterwards, would you? My treat, as an apology for traumatising you.”
“Of course, I would. Today?”
“Yes, in like two hours? I’ll get off work soon and could go straight to the store.”
You and Jungkook often go grocery shopping together. You already have a favourite store to go to. Jungkook loves these moments. He loves to carry the heavy bags for you and get the stuff you can’t reach. He loves to push the cart while you tell him about your day and then load the groceries into the bags with you. In another lifetime, you and he push the cart together and he steals kisses between aisles. In another lifetime, he holds your hand and the bags in the other. And in another lifetime, you and he go to your apartment to cook dinner for date night on the couch. Jungkook really wishes to live a different life sometimes.
“Two hours sounds great”, he agrees in a cool voice even if he wants to squeal. He gets to go grocery shopping with you! How amazing!
“Nice, then we’ll see each other there.”
“Yes, we’ll see each other. I’m really excited for it.”
“Me too. See you later, yeah? My boss is coming back.”
“See you later. Good luck at work.” 
“Thanks, Kook. Bye bye.”
Goodbye, my everything, my dream girl, my love. He thinks.
“Bye.” He says.
The phone call ends. Jungkook drops back into the pillow and lets out a yelp of celebration, following it up with excessive kicking and punching of the air as well as  squeaky giggles. 
He didn’t ruin everything and he will see you in two hours. Today is the best day of his life! But wait! Jungkook gasps and jumps out of bed.
“I need to get ready! Shower and wash my hair and pick an outfit! And do my skincare and brush my teeth! There is so much to do, oh god” he talks to himself, running through his apartment.
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You are pacing in front of the store. Jungkook isn’t late, you are just early. Early enough to become painfully aware of your nervousness. You wonder how it will be between the two of you after last night. You could barely fall asleep because you were so embarrassed. Work didn’t distract you either, your thoughts kept repeating what had happened last night. You hope that he doesn’t look at you differently after what he had to see. It would literally ruin you.
Jungkook is your best friend. But if someone asked you honestly, you would say that he is the boy of your dreams. He is everything you ever dreamed of and everything you will never be able to have. He is too perfect for you. If there were no consequences for your actions, you would tell him how you really feel. You would tell him that you think that he is the most attractive man and person you have ever seen, that he is the kindest soul with the sweetest heart. That he is talented and amazing and the funniest person ever. And that you feel safe with him. 
You would tell him that every time he comes to your place or you to his’ and you spend time together, you wish that it was a date instead. You want to tell him that every time your bodies touch, your heart jumps out of your chest. You want to tell him that you keep repeating all the moments with him over and over again and that sometimes at work, you text him because you can’t stop thinking about him. You also want to tell him that you thought about killing the bug yourself before deciding to call Jungkook just to have him close.
And the worst of it all? You want to tell Jungkook that the only reason why you downloaded the dating app was to get over your feelings for him because you knew that someone as perfect as Jungkook would never want to have you. But actions have consequences and so you call him your best friend whilst secretly wishing for him to just be reckless and kiss you.
Jungkook appears on the horizon, swerving through the crowd in a stoic expression. Your heart speeds up instantly. He is wearing black pants with a stripped shirt and a black jacket today. His hair falls on soft waves, his skin glows in the sun. He is so dreamy and handsome. 
His eyes find you in front of the store, his face lights up and he lifts his arm to wave at you. You wave back, bouncing on your tiptoes. He saw you! He is waving at you! 
He hurries through the crowd faster than before, reaching you within moments.
“Hey there”, he says.
“Hey”, you tell him and give him a hug. 
Jungkook short circuits. He gets no time to react before you already step back again. You just hugged him. Holy moly, wow. 
“Sorry, was that not okay?” you ask, studying his frozen features.
“What?” He flinches back to life. “No, it was amazing, I mean, it was okay. I uhm, I have this for you.”
He lifts a bouquet of sunflowers.
“Sunflowers? For me?”
“Yeah, I saw them and thought of you.”
“You did?”
You accept them with shortened breath and a quickened heart. You are currently screeching inside. You feel on cloud nine.
“A-as a best friend of course, because we’re best friends.”
“Oh. Yes.” You clear your throat. “We are. Thank you for the friendship flowers. I’ll put them in water once I’m home. Hopefully they’ll survive till then.” 
“I’m sure they will. That’s why I put the paper towel there.”
“I know, I saw. That’s so clever.”
“Yeah, thanks.” He does a little twirl so he stands next to you, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants in a cute way. “So what do we need? Any particular groceries in mind?” 
You and he start walking to the store. He opens the door for you, holding it until you are inside. He follows and goes straight for the carts. You are next to him.
“Yes, I’m out of multigrain rice so I’m buying all of them to make my mixture again and I wanna stock up on udon because they have a sale going on.”
“Neat, a sale. I’ll get some too”, Jungkook says, leaning his elbows on the cart as he pushes it. “I wanna see if they have the lychees again. They were so yummy last time.”
“They were. Especially with that sauce you made.”
“I can make them for you again.”
“Really?” 
He nods his head, “sure, you could come over Saturday and we’ll watch a movie. I heard that there’s a few new movies to stream.”
“I should be free on Saturday.”
“Nice, then you’ll come over.”
You and he exchange a look, breaking it quickly to look at opposite sides. Unbeknownst to either, you are both panicking. Jungkook is so excited to have you come over but is also terribly nervous about the aspect of it. You can’t wait to visit Jungkook but are also scared of the yearning. 
A moment of silence where you each fill the cart with stuff you want. You and Jungkook always fill up the cart together and then separate the groceries afterwards. In another lifetime, you don’t need to separate the groceries. In another lifetime, you share the same bag and fill the same fridge to cook from the same pots and eat on your shared couch whilst a show was running. 
“How was your day?” Jungkook asks because other lifetimes don’t exist and in his real life, the only shared thing he gets with you is time.
“It was okay. Yours?”
“I woke up like two hours ago.”
You chuckle, “of course you sleep while I have to work my ass off.”
“Hey, I’m on a well-deserved break, I earned the night owl lifestyle”, he throws back, making you laugh with it.
“I’m not saying anything against it. I need a break soon.”
“Is work stressful?”
“Yeah, quite. There’s been lots of new projects coming in.”
“No, I’m sorry. If there is something I can do, let me know.”
You look at him. 
“I will, thank you.”
In another lifetime, you would hug his arm and rest your head against it and you would tell him that you don’t mind a stressful workday when it meant spending time with him afterwards. 
Jungkook meets your eyes. His heart flutters nervously, speeding up more when you look away. If he was your boyfriend, he would hold your hand and tell you that you looked beautiful after a long work day. 
“I like the way you did your hair today”, he says instinctively. He has no idea why he said that because he never says stuff like that to you. He panics because of it. His tongue worked quicker than his brain. 
You reach up to feel your hair, “you do?”
“Yes, it fits you really well.” 
“Thank you”, you murmur and cross a corner without warning, leaving him alone for a few seconds.
Jungkook follows after you hastily, confused as to why you so abruptly fled. Oh no. He went too far with the compliment. He definitely creeped you out again. 
You are squatting down in front of the grain section, reading the labels carefully. Jungkook parks the cart next to you, standing still. He tries not to, but still looks at you. You shift your eyes to him, widen them and look away again. Jungkook swears he might cry. He made you uncomfortable. 
“I’m sorry for saying that. I, I meant it as a friend.”
“Hm? Ah, it’s okay. Thank you for saying it, I liked it”, you say and stand up, filling the cart with the grain. Jungkook’s heart flutters happily. He didn’t mess up. Yay!
“Got everything you wanted?” he asks.
“Yep, except black rice. Do you see it somewhere?”
“Up there”, Jungkook says, pointing at it. The lower racks are empty, only the racks which are clearly for staff to reach so they could refill the store are stacked with the rice. 
“Nice.” You try to reach it, but fail. “Kook, can you get it?”
“Sure, let me”, he says, stepping right behind you to get the rice from the staff rack. His chest brushes against your back. You gasp. He feels dizzy, but acts nonchalant.
“There we go your….rice”, Jungkook says, eyes flitting down to you looking up at him. He didn’t even realise that you turned. 
There is almost no distance and so Jungkook tries to step back to be respectful because friends don’t stand this close. You grab him by his jacket, making him gulp and panic greatly. His left hand grabs the edge of the shelf, his chest lifts in a deep gasp. You are taller today because of the shoes you are wearing. The shortened distance between your lips is making him dizzy.
“About last night”, you begin, but he interrupts you before you apologise for something you have no reason to.
“It’s alright. I shouldn’t have snooped, I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t snoop, I just…I clean up, I was just busy and forgot and I”, you exhales deeply, “I’m not making it any better talking by about it, am I?”
He laughs softly and reaches down to cup your hand, caressing your knuckles softly. The lines blur more and more. You both feel weightless. You can smell his cologne like this, he can smell your perfume. It’s like you are high on each other.
“If it makes you feel any better, I have some toys too”, he says, making your eyes widen. You look to the side and let out a giggle. Jungkook knows that it is of shy nature and so he giggles with you. “Did that help or did I just embarrass myself for nothing?”
“No, it helped.” You meet his eyes, fingers squeezing his jacket. 
Jungkook holds his breath, fingers tightening on the shelf. He is being so greedy. It’s so unfair to you. 
“I, uhm.” He clears his throat and slips his hand from the shelf to present the rice to you. “Your rice.”
“Oh? Thanks, uhm, put it in the cart.” 
He steps back. Your hands slip from his jacket, his fingers stop holding you. They tingle in the memory of how it was to cradle you this way. His thoughts are racing, trying to calculate the weight of his confession. If he confessed, what would he lose? Your friendship, your time, the movie hangouts, the cooking together, the shared workouts, your texts and calls and video chats. All your laughter and smiles and giggles. Jungkook gulps. The loss is too great. He can’t confess. Nope, never. 
He grips the cart and pushes it, hoping that walking it off will help with the heart palpitations. You walk next to him, resting your hand on the metal cage part of the cart.
“Did you sleep well last night?” he asks you.
“Can I be honest? Not really. I was so embarrassed.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I’m just awkward.”
He chuckles, you chuckle with him. You give him a glance.
“I think I don’t have to ask you if you slept well at night because you never sleep at night.”
He laughs, you do as well.
“That’s not true. I can sleep at night too, I simply choose not to. Oh wait. I need buckwheat noodles.”
You and he stop in front of the section. You stay by the cart while Jungkook browses the options. 
“Should I make you makguksu?” he offers mindlessly.
“Today?”
“Yeah.”
“So you don’t wanna go for barbecue and beer?” You chuckle and nudge his arm, sending tingles all over his skin. “Did you already forget again, you doofus?”
“I might have.” He gives you a sorry, cute smile.
Jungkook makes you laugh with it.
“Kook, you little scatterbrain you”, you chuckle, leaning into him. 
Jungkook leans closer, placing his arm around your waist without touching you. In another lifetime, he would close the last distance. But not in reality. He looks at your lips, asking himself why you seek him out today and why he takes the chances so greedily. He shouldn’t do that. You are just friends, nothing more.
“Uh, sorry”, you say and step away again. 
Jungkook gulps, gasps for air. He doesn’t understand what today means, but whatever you are doing is actually messing with him. He hasn’t been able to breathe properly ever since that hug you gave him. You seem so clingy, but he doesn’t understand why. 
You grab the cart and push it.
“I think I have everything I need. You?”
“Yeah, yeah sure”, Jungkook stutters, stumbling after you like a lovesick puppy. He doesn’t know where to put his hands and so he ends up stuffing them into his pants pockets while his eyes are glued to the back of your head. He is seriously under your spell. Every part of him.
You load the groceries on the conveyor belt together and then load them into separate bags. You pay for all of them and wish the cashier a good day. Jungkook carries the bags like always, while you are allowed to walk freely with the bouquet of flowers cradled in your arms.
“I’ll pay you back at home”, he says, swerving outside as you hold the door open for him.
“Today’s on me. As a thank you for yesterday and an apology.”
“What? But I bought so much”, Jungkook gasps, pouting sadly.
“It’s fine. I have money.”
“But-”
“No buts. I’m paying.”
Jungkook pouts, huffing out air in defeat.
“Fine, but I’ll pay for your stuff too one day.”
You chuckle, “deal.” 
You and he walk together.
“You should really start accepting when I offer. It’s not a competition.”
“I just feel uncomfortable making you pay.”
“Why?”
Because you’re his dream girl and you should never have to pay for him. He should be your wallet whenever you are out together, he should fulfil your every wish. 
“I don’t know, just so. You work so hard for your money.”
“You work just as hard”, you say and chuckle. “Kook, you’re so competitive.”
Jungkook smiles, shaking his head in defeat. 
“I guess am.”
You grin, hugging the flowers tighter. With a little skip in your steps, you close the distance. Just enough that one small movement would be enough for your arms to brush. 
Jungkook glances at you. You are gazing at the flowers, smiling so brightly that your nose scrunches up. He could swear that your eyes are sparkling. 
The lines blur again. He wonders if it would be okay for him to be a bad person, if he was allowed to slip his hand into yours even if you never gave him consent for it. There is not much he can still take.
You lower your nose into the flowers and smell them, closing your eyes in a happy squint. The metaphorical glass of how much Jungkook can take floats over.
He says your name and knows that the next words are coming out of him before he can think them through.
“Yeah?” You look at him.
He is nervous and scared, but still talks, “can we talk about something?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
Panic. His situation finally sunk into his consciousness. 
“I uhm…uh…I have a crush on someone.”
Microexpressions wash over your face. Shock, surprise, disbelief, jealousy, hurt, friendliness. A smile curls your lips. It doesn’t reach your eyes.
“Yeah? It’s about time you do”, the words and your voice carry a hint of teasing, but most of all forced friendliness.
You lower the flowers, carrying them in one hand by your side. They look sad like this. Jungkook doesn’t notice because he is staring at the road in front of him because otherwise he would pass out in nervousness. He is almost twenty seven, but feels sixteen again.
“She’s like really, really great and awesome and amazing and wonderful and so kind and perfect”, Jungkook continues, heart racing to the point he feels dizzy. He saw this kind of confession in movies. He always thought that it was so cute when the guy did it. It isn’t obvious enough to ruin everything just in case you didn’t feel the same, but it is still cute enough that you can’t help but be giddy.
“Mh-hm”, you hum, nodding your head. 
“And I keep thinking about her. She is so pretty when she laughs and I love being in her presence. She likes my jokes and she always makes me laugh in return. Yeah…”
“That’s great.”
“Yeah, she is so great. I really wanna ask if she feels the same.” Jungkook falters in nervousness. He is going to ask the question. He is so scared. “If you were me, what would you do?”
You take a deep breath and release it loudly, “I don’t know. I haven’t had a crush in so long.”
Jungkook falters, heart tightening. Oh no. Oh no, oh no. Oh. This is bad. This is really bad. 
“Ah, I see.” He gulps.
“But let me know if you figure it out. Then we can go on a double date.” 
Wait. Wait. This is bad. Double date? This is so bad.
“What do you mean?” he asks weakly.
“You know, you and your girl and me and my boy.”
“You have a boy?”
“Yeah, soon. I’m talking to this boy on the dating app. He is very cute.”
“But…didn’t you say that you gave up on the app?”
“No uh…no, it’s just that I only talk to this one boy now.”
Jungkook bites back tears.
“I see.” 
“Mhm, yeah. Let’s go on a double date.”
No. No this is all wrong. No this isn’t what was meant to happen. No. 
“Please.”
Jungkook doesn’t even realize that he begged out loud until you look at him in question.
“Please what?”
You and he stop. Strangers stream past you like you and he were two rocks in a river. You are facing each other, so close yet so far away. 
You lied to him. There is no other boy. There never was and never will be. But there will always be other girls for him while you stay his best friend. Lying is all that you have at this point. 
“Please what?” you repeat the question.
“I…” Jungkook breathes. “I…nevermind.”
Silence. Your eyes are locked so deeply that the world around you is blurry.
“Okay?”
“Mhm yeah.”
His jaw tightens and he breaks the eye contact, looking to the side with his tongue in his cheek. He seemed angry. You would be lying if you said that you weren’t feeling angry yourself. You turn away from him and continue walking. You don’t want to be next to him right now. It hurts to only stay his best friend.
He looks at the back of your head and how it becomes smaller and smaller from distance. He doesn’t understand you. He thought that the way you looked at him in the store meant something. And yet all this time you had another boy. He feels so betrayed that for just a second, he considers walking the other direction and leaving you to wonder where he went. However, two things hold him back; his competitiveness and his honest feelings for you.
He won’t stay your best friend any longer. He just decided that. He is going to fight for you, make you fall for him and forget all about the stupid boys you meet on this stupid dating app. He is better than any of them. He could treat you better, make you laugh harder, give you better hugs and kisses and provide you with afterglow so addicting you will get hot cheeks at work just thinking about it. He is your best friend, goddamn it, and he knows you better than any of these strangers ever will. And he is not going to lose you to some boy.
He jogs to catch up with you, calling your name with a certain harshness.
You turn. Your eyes meet. Jungkook’s brain short circuits.
“What?” you ask him, sounding small because of being called so harshly.
“I, I was just wondering, uhm, should we get ice cream after?” he asks because he panicked.
You shrug your shoulders, “I guess.”
“It’s on me, yeah?”
“Yeah, okay.”
Jungkook inches closer, saying your name softly.
“What do you want?”
“I messed up before.”
“What do you mean?”
“I, I just. I thought that I was doing a good job, but I think I made you think something else.”
“Jungkook. I had a long day, please don’t talk in riddles.”
“Don’t date other boys.”
“Excuse me?”
Jungkook gulps, panicking because of your offended and harsh tone.
“I, I, I just”, he stutters, widening his eyes.
“No. What do you mean? I can date who I want.”
“I know, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that, oh god, I meant that I don’t want you to see other boys.”
“Huh?”
“Ah no, wait.”  He slaps his own forehead. “Wait.”
You cross your arms in front of your chest, “what makes you think that you can tell me what I can or can’t do?”
“No I didn’t mean it like that. Wait just give me a moment, please I’m panicking.”
You purse your lips, studying his face intensely.
“Are you also so nervous?” he asks.
“What’s with you all of a sudden?” you ask him, honestly worried. His face is as red as ripe strawberries.
Jungkook closes the distance and takes your hands, eliciting a gasp from you. He squeezes them gently, staring into your eyes as deeply as possible.
“This wasn’t how I always imagined this to go, but I can’t stay quiet anymore. ___, the girl I have a crush on is-”
“Seriously?”
You and Jungkook turn around at the angry voice next to you.  
“Suho? What are you doing here?” you ask.
“Who’s that?” Jungkook says.
“Kim Suho. I met him on the dating app. We went on like one date a month ago”, you explain and slip your hands out of Jungkook’s hold to turn to the other guy, “what are you doing here?”
Jungkook stares at him darkly, clenching his jaw. You told him about this dude in passing. He hates him so much, hating him even more now that he interrupted this moment.
“That’s what you’re going with? Seriously?” Suho throws back.
“Yeah, you-”
“What the fuck are you doing with him? I told you to stop being friends with him, didn’t I?”
Jungkook looks at you with big eyes. You never told him that. You always said that you lost interest in Suho because of different hobbies, but never mentioned that he could have been the actual reason.
“And I told you that you can’t tell me what to do. Jungkook is my best friend and I won’t give him up for a man.”
“Yes but I wasn’t any man, I was your man.”
“Huh? No you weren’t. We went on one date and you totally lost it when I told you that I had a male best friend.”
“Because he isn’t just your friend. You’re in love with him.”
Jungkook swears that he passes out standing up for a second. Feelings? You have feelings for him? Did you tell Suho that or is he assuming because he is one of those weird men that think women aren’t allowed to have male friends? What does all of this mean?
“What?” You laugh nervously. “No? Of course not.”
“Oh don’t be ridiculous. I followed you from work and through the store. I saw everything.”
“Huh? What?” you gasp, hurrying to Jungkook instinctively because you know that he will keep you safe.
“Dude, what the fuck? You creep, stay away from her”, Jungkook says harshly and steps in front of you, feeling the fire of protectiveness start to burn in his chest.
“I saw what I saw. You have feelings for each other”, Suho says, pointing an accusing finger at you and Jungkook.
Jungkook and you exchange a look. 
“No I…”
Suho scoffs and looks at Jungkook.
“And you? Gonna fucking pretend that you’re just friends or should I start punching you?”
“Dude, I’ve never even met you”, Jungkook defends himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“I’ll still fucking punch you.”
“Don’t you dare”, you hiss at him.
“Shut up, ___.”
“Hey, don’t talk to her like that”, Jungkook speaks up loudly, making himself bigger. He doesn’t care when people are aggressive to him, but he cannot accept aggression towards you.
“Or what?”
“You wanna find out? Don’t talk to her like that.”
Suho rushes to Jungkook and pushes at his chest. He thought that he could move him, but he can’t. Jungkook just gawks at him in utter surprise.
“What are you doing?” he asks confused.
“Why aren’t you budging? Fall over you idiot”, Suho growls and tries again with all his might. 
Jungkook takes a small step back but then stays unmoving. 
“Dude, seriously. What are you doing?”
Suho growls and punches Jungkook. Except that he is so bad at it that Jungkook can easily dodge him. He reacts calmly to the aggression, redirecting Suho by turning him and giving him a gentle push away from him.
Suho stumbles and whips around.
“You-”
Jungkook steps closer, “give it up, man.”
Suho shifts his attention to you, pointing his finger at you. He tries to get to you by swerving past Jungkook, but the latter steps in front of you again, stopping Suho with a firm hand on his chest. He didn’t show it, but the contact was definitely made with strength because Suho stumbles back from it.
“I said. Give it up. I’m not gonna repeat myself again”, he warns. For just a second his voice was deeper than usual and his eyes darker. You can’t stop staring in awe, feeling so attracted to him that it is difficult not to grab him right here and now.
Suho ignores him, talking over Jungkook’s shoulder.
“It’s over. I’m breaking up with you.”
“Huh? We weren’t even together in the first place?” you say very confused.
“Yes, well…. Now it’s really over. And just so you know, I’ll block you on everything.”
“I mean, okay.”
Suho turns and runs down the street clumsily.
A moment of silence. Jungkook turns to you. He is ready to take you into his arms if you need support.
“Everything okay?” he asks hesitantly.
“Honestly? I couldn’t care less about this tantrum. What the fuck was that? We went on one date and it sucked ass. I mean, who in their right mind expects someone to give up their best friend? I don’t even know this dude.”
“Would you have done it if you liked him?”
“What? No, of course not. I like you, not him.”
“What?!”
You look at Jungkook with big eyes.
“I, I mean…” you look at his lips and Jungkook finally notices.
Holy fuck. Suho was right.
He drops the grocery bags and closes the distance, cupping your face. To his delighted surprise, you practically melt into his hands, gazing at him with dreamy eyes and your fingers closing around his wrists greedily.
“Was he right?” Jungkook asks, looking between your right and left eye. “Do you have feelings for me?”
“I’m scared”, you whisper.
“Scared of what?”
“You are so perfect and I’m not. I don’t want to know how you feel about me, so just…let’s just forget about what happened please.”
“You’re not perfect? What the fuck? You’re literally perfect. If someone’s unworthy, it’s me.”
“What?”
Jungkook gulps. 
You touch his chest.
“Kook, what?”
“You’re my fucking dream girl, ___” he finally confesses and now can’t be stopped, “I get excited when you text me and get sad when I don’t hear from you. Each time we hang out, I kinda wish that we somehow magically end up together. I repeat every little touch and shared laughter and look. Sometimes I can’t fall asleep because of you, but wish to do so because in my sleep I can meet you in my silly, wishful dreams. Do you have any idea how in love I am with you?”
“Are you serious?” 
Jungkook nods his head, forcing your tears to finally flow. He gasps and begins wiping them away instantly.
“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry, I promise I won’t try anything. You, you won’t lose your best friend.”
“I’m just happy. So happy.”
“You are?”
“I feel the same for you. I have done so for a long time.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” You sniffle. “You’re my dream boy too, Jungkook.”
“Oh my god. Oh my god! Yippie!” he exclaims and overtaken by happiness, he swoops you off your feet to twirl with you, making you squeal happily as you hold onto him for dear life. Strangers definitely look at you weird, but you couldn’t care less. They are non-existent for you and him. He likes you and you like him back. This day is the best day you and he ever had.
He sets you down after the twirling, cradling your face so he could hold it still for way too many kisses. He gives you kisses everywhere except your lips, making you giggle and laugh and tingle the entire time.
“I’m so happy, you’re so pretty and perfect and amazing and pretty and amazing and I’m gonna kiss you there and there and there and oh my god you’re so perfect, I’m gonna kiss you there and there, wow oh wow…” he babbles between kisses, truly sending your heart into overdrive.
He probably would have continued his babbling for hours if you hadn’t stopped him by lacing your fingers in his hair and pulling his mouth into a kiss.
“Andmhgmh”, he lets out, gawking at you first before the realisation of his situation sinks in. His knees buckle, his left hand grabs your hips and his right hand cradles your head, eyes falling closed. He is kissing you. He feels weightless, floating in time and space. His heart races so much that he feels it throb against his ribcage, the butterflies in his stomach are unbearably exciting. He dreamt of this moment a million times before, fantasised about it twice as much and yet he still wasn’t ready for it. Your kiss is like heaven on earth. He swears that he gains new life through it. He wants to kiss you until his lungs run out of air, but you break it.
“Was that okay for me to do?” you ask him shyly.
Now it’s his turn to spill tears and for you to wipe them.
“I’m sorry, I should have ask-”, you don’t get to finish your sentence, getting kissed again by Jungkook.
“I’m so fucking happy, you have no idea”, he murmurs, showing you his feelings one deep kiss at a time. “You taste so good.” Kiss, oh so deep. “Your lips are so soft.” Kiss, the kind which makes your knees wobble. “You’re perfect, you’re so perfect.”
You giggle, gazing up at him droopily. Jungkook giggles as well, peeling his eyes open to gaze dreamily. You and he cup each other’s faces, resting your foreheads together.
“I’m happy.”
“I’m happy too.”
“Wow, I’m so happy.”
“Me too. So happy.”
You giggle together, swaying from side to side. Nothing, truly nothing, has never felt as right as this.
“Were you trying to confess to me before Suho interrupted us?”
“Yeah.”
You giggle as you talk, “you were really shit at it. I thought you were talking about someone else.”
“I know, I panicked so bad. I was so nervous”, he is giggling too, “are you actually talking to another boy?”
“Of course not, you doofus. I lied.”
“Oh my god, I’m so relieved”, he gets out and sweeps you off your feet again, carrying you under your butt. He twirls with you, smiling up at you as you squeak and laugh with your head thrown back.
“Jungkook stop please, I’m getting dizzy.”
He sets you down, but keeps touching you, seeking your closeness by rubbing his nose against your cheek. He is so close that the sunflowers are getting squished between you and him. It is a price you sadly have to pay in exchange for finally being able to be glued together.
“I’m so happy, I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Kook. So like barbeque and beer? Is it a date?” you ask.
“It’s the datiest date that has ever dated”, he says, making you giggle because he is so cute and funny and you like him so, so much. He giggles with you because you are so perfect and perfect and perfect and he likes you so, so much.
“I feel like we have a lot to talk about.”
“Yeah, oh god.” He kisses your cheek multiple times. “You have to tell me all the thoughts you had when we hung out. Were you also so giddy, oh god, I was always so giddy and I kept looking at you because you are so pretty. Were you looking at me too? And, and did you also wish for me to be reckless? I always wanted you to just kiss me. I’m talking so much, wow, I’m so happy.”
You giggle, cuddling into him, “you’re the cutest person ever. I can’t wait to tell you everything.”
You nudge him to leave, but stop when Jungkook exclaims a loud “wait!”
“What’s wrong?”
“The groceries. I almost left them here”, he says, bending down to get them.
“Oh god, you’re so cute”, you snicker, hugging his arm and nuzzling into him like you always wanted to do.
2K notes · View notes
wandaslittlebird · 3 months ago
Text
Pendulum
Wanda x Reader, WandaNat x Reader
After a session with Wanda the prior evening, you wake up alone in your bed and find you’re a bit more reliant on her than you’d like to be.
CW: Sub drop, (kinda) panic attack, mood swings, guilt, Mommy Kink, mentions of spanking, established WandaNat (no cheating), pills (Tylenol and Xanax), Wanda generally being a protective and worried mama
Word Count: 3.2k
A/N: I may know hardly anything about dom drop, but I’m ✨well versed✨ in sub drop. I honestly think this one is adorable and I hope you all enjoy.
A/N: I wasn’t doing this consciously, but reading this back I realize I kinda did a reverse YAIL, so, if you haven’t already, go check out that series by @wandasaura
Fic based on this request
You woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for air before your head even left the pillow. It was hard to find anything to ground you in your dark bedroom, but with the help of your stuffed bear, Francis, and some breathing exercises you’d been working on in therapy, you were able to calm down at least enough to breathe. Still, you found yourself dizzy, nauseous, in pain, and, perhaps most excruciatingly, alone.
Wanda. Where was Wanda? Where was your mommy? You needed mommy.
“Mommy?” You cried quietly into the empty room. But she wasn’t there. Of course she wasn’t there. She was at home, tucked peacefully into bed with Natasha, her wife. And you were here, in your cold, empty apartment, all alone.
You turned to look at the clock on your bedside table. 1:30 am. It was far too late to call her. She had to get up for work in a couple hours. You had to get up for class in a couple hours.
But god, you needed her. You needed just to hear her voice. Everything felt so empty without her here. Your brain felt like it was underwater. You couldn’t think. It felt like your mind was strapped to a pendulum, swinging back and forth between extremes. It’s like half of your mind was begging for Wanda while the other half scolded you for your over-reliance. You wanted her, but you didn’t want to want her. It was hyper-dependence clashing with hyper-independence in an internal battle that left you dazed and confused.
Just call her, you thought. She told you to call her if this ever happened.
You’d been her submissive for months, and, though you’d never actually experienced sub drop with her, the two of you had discussed it extensively. “You can call me at any time,” she’d said. “Even if it's been days. I’m here for you in any way you need me.”
You grabbed your phone from the nightstand, pulling up her contact and hovering over the call button. But before you could press it, the pendulum swung back. You hurled the phone into your beanbag on the other side of the room.
What are you thinking? You can’t call her. She’s not your fucking girlfriend. You’re so reliant on her and she doesn’t even care about you. Leave her alone. This is your mess. Handle it.
You sighed, dragging your aching body off of your mattress. Everything hurt. The wounds she’d so loving inflicted the night before ached even more than they had when they were fresh. You wanted, needed, to feel her soft hands massaging soothing balm into your skin like they had only hours prior. But no.
Wanda. Wasn’t. Here.
It was just you and you alone. You needed to take care of this. You needed to pull yourself together and handle this on your own. You felt like you might be sick. The swinging of this pendulum was nauseating. You dragged yourself to the bathroom, pulling two Tylenol and a Xanax from the medicine cabinet. You sat on the toilet, tucking your head between your knees.
You didn’t understand what was happening. Or rather, you didn’t understand why it was happening. Wanda had done everything perfectly, just like she always did. She’d insisted you stay with her until you were out of subspace and your mind was clear again. She’d given you all the cuddles and love and reassurance you could possibly want. She’d even rubbed that soothing lotion on your sore ass despite the fit you’d pitched about it. This shouldn’t be happening. She’d done everything she was supposed to do. You were the problem.
You moved from the bathroom to your living room, pacing anxious circles until you worried the neighbors would complain. Then you decided on a walk.
A little walk to clear your head. That should help. No need to bother Wanda. You could take care of this by yourself.
—————
A little over two blocks proved you could not, in fact, take care of this by yourself. You found yourself collapsed on a bench outside your favorite coffee shop, her contact pulled up on your phone, sobbing as your thumb hovered over the call button.
You clicked it, anxiously awaiting an answer through the dial tone. Every second without an answer was a battle not to hit the red button, and smash your phone on the ground so you wouldn’t be tempted to try this again.
“Hello?” You heard, not Wanda, but Natasha’s sleep addled voice.
You silently cursed, debating hanging up the phone and forgetting the whole endeavor. You had very limited experience in dealing with Natasha. Where Wanda was warm and inviting, Natasha was cold and intimidating. Wanda had told you once that Natasha had a soft spot for you, but you remained unconvinced any of Natasha’s spots were “soft”.
Wanda had explained to you that Natasha’s had submissives of her own, but she tended to prefer brats, submissives who needed a harsher hand. “It’s not that she doesn’t like you,” Wanda had explained, “she’s just not used to sweet little girls like you.”
Still, the woman terrified you. And she definitely was NOT the one you wanted to be speaking to right now. But you took a deep breath, and answered her. “H-hello, Miss Natasha. C-can I speak to Wanda?” You stammered. You couldn’t keep the tears and desperation out of your voice when you added a “…please.”
“Y-yeah, sure honey. Just a second let me get her up,” she responded tiredly.
Your heart shattered at the thought of Natasha rousing a peaceful Wanda from her sleep just because you couldn’t get yourself together. But all such thoughts faded when you heard her voice through the phone. “Angel? Is that you? Is everything okay? Are you hurt? What’s going on?”
“Mommy…” you said tearfully. “I’m okay. I promise I’m okay, I just… I don’t know what’s happening. I mean I’m dropping, I know, but… I don’t know. I just needed so badly to hear you and talk to you. I’m sorry for waking you up. I’m so sorry. I know you said….” You were rambling breathlessly, but Wanda soon cut you off.
“Breathe for me, little love,” she instructed softly. “Three deep breaths. In and out. Can you do that for me, angel?”
You nodded despite knowing she couldn’t see you over the phone. You took three audible breaths, calming yourself down.
“Good girl,” she praised. “Now, can you tell me what’s happening?”
“I… I… Sub drop, I think,” you explained. “But like, really bad.”
“Aww,” she cooed. “I’m so sorry, my little love. Can you explain to me what you're feeling? Are you in pain? Do you need company?”
“I just… I don’t know why this is happening to me,” you cried. “Everything hurts so bad. My head feels like it’s spinning. And… And my body is so sore. It’s never happened like this with you before. You did everything so perfectly. I just don’t understand why I’m being like this.”
“Sub drop can happen no matter what, honey. And I’m so sorry it’s happening to you, sweetheart. Do you need to come back over?” She asked.
You pondered her question, the pendulum inside of you swinging violently. You felt like you were being torn in half between admitting you needed her help, and feeling defeated and weak that you couldn’t handle it on your own. But eventually you remembered it didn’t really matter. You made your choice when you took the Xanax. You weren’t going anywhere now. “I-I took some medicine. I can’t drive. I’m sorry,” you admitted.
“What medicine?” She asked, panicked. “Did you take too much? Are you okay?”
“It was just a Xanax. Just one. Just like I take for school sometimes,” you reassured.
You heard her breathe a sigh of relief on the other end of the line. “Okay, sweetheart. I’m sorry I panicked. You know I just worry sometimes. I tell you what, Nat and I are going to get you an Uber, and then you can spend the rest of the night here, okay?”
“Wanda, you don’t have to-“ You didn’t use her real name very often given the exclusively sexual nature of your relationship, but you needed her to know she wasn’t responsible for being your dominant right now. She was Wanda, and you were you: two grown adults. She didn’t have any obligation to take care of you right now, in the middle of the night on a Wednesday.
“But I want to, darling,” she interrupted. “Is that okay?”
“Y-yeah, but I’m not at the house right now.”
You heard her breath catch. “Where are you, honey? You promise me you’re safe?”
“I-I’m just at the coffee shop,” you explained. “I wanted to take a walk, b-but I didn’t make it very far.”
Wanda sighed. She’d have to have a little talk with you about walking all by yourself in the middle of the night. But not right now. Right now she just needed you in her arms as quickly as she could have you. “Alright, love. You’ve got a car on its way. Just stay on the phone with me until it gets there, okay?”
“O-okay.”
—————
The car was there within five minutes of Wanda’s order. Most of that time was just filled with tears and mumbled apologies on your end, and reassurance and encouragement on hers.
She waited anxiously by the front door for you to arrive, peeking out of the blinds with every set of headlights that passed by. She clutched her robe tight against her chest. If you were there, you would’ve teased her about her anxious habit. You always said she was “practically clutching her pearls.”
When you finally pulled into the driveway, she was standing in the front door frame before you could even get out of the car.
“Mommy!” You ran up to her, nearly tripping on the front porch steps on your way in. You were even more hysterical now that you were seeing her in person. Something about the sight of her made you fall apart. You felt safe now. You were going to fall, and she was going to catch you, and everything was going to be okay.
“Careful, love,” she chided, taking you into her arms. “Mommy’s got you. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m gonna take care of you and I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you.”
It sounded more like she was reassuring herself than anything, but her words still washed over you like a wave of relief. “I missed you, mommy.”
“I know you did, angel,” she said, kissing you on the temple. “Mommy missed you, too.”
She wrapped her arms just under your ass, still sore and super sensitive from your activities earlier that night. She picked you up, wrapping your legs around your waist. You squeaked in a mixture of surprise and pain.
“I’m sorry, baby. I know you’re sore. I’ll be gentle,” she cooed. “Let’s get you to bed. Tasha will be waiting for us.”
You just cried, burying your face into Wanda’s neck as she carried you up the stairs. You couldn’t talk anymore. You were so completely exhausted, mentally and physically. But it was okay. You had your mommy and everything was going to be okay. The bedroom door was already open, and, as Wanda had expected, Natasha was sat up against the headboard.
“Is that a little angel I see there?” You heard Natasha ask. Wanda sat you on her lap at the end of the bed, bending down to take off your shoes.
You peaked your eyes out from Wanda’s neck before perching your chin on her shoulder. “Hi Miss Natasha,” you sniffled. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“That’s alright, little angel,” she assured, sliding closer to you and Wanda on the bed. She looked so much kinder than usual, soft sleepy eyes smiling at you through your tears. “Is it okay if I touch you?”
You nodded, still teary eyed and snotty on Wanda’s lap while she unlaced your shoes.
Natasha cupped your cheek, wiping away stray tears. “It must’ve been so scary to start dropping without your mommy there, huh?” Her touch was unexpectedly gentle, as were her words. Maybe Wanda was right, maybe she really did have a soft spot for you.
You nodded, trying to speak but only managing to whimper a “mhm.” You blushed a little with embarrassment. Wanda must’ve told her all about your situation. You wondered momentarily if she thought your behavior was overblown or ridiculous, but if she did, her gentle face showed no indication.
“But now you’ve got your mommy and everything’s gonna be okay, right?”
You nodded again. “I-I hope you don’t mind if I steal your wife for a little bit for-for some extra snuggles.”
“Not at all little angel.” Natasha smiled softly. She could see your anxious embarrassment, and decided, despite her inexperience with soft subs, she’d make an attempt to soothe you. She knew she wasn't expected to, but she found herself desperate to make you feel better, even if it was only a little bit. “Your mommy could hardly stop bragging about you tonight, you know?”
“Re-really?” You asked. Natasha could see the tiniest little twinkle in your teary eyes.
“Really,” she confirmed. “She told me she was so proud of her sweet girl for calling her, because that must’ve been so scary for her, to call in the middle of the night. She knows you don’t like to wake people up, and asking for help when you need it is so so hard. And I said ‘wow, it sounds like you have the bravest little angel in the whole world. I think she deserves some extra special snuggles from mommy tonight, for being so brave.’”
“Y-you really think so?” you asked bashfully, hiding back in Wanda’s neck.
“I really do,” she confirmed. “And you know your mommy keeps her phone on silent in the nighttime. But she cares about you so much she has a special setting so it rings just for you.”
You smiled. Your heart fluttered, not only at the idea Wanda had her phone on for you, but also at the thought that Natasha must’ve known it was you before she answered. “I-I thought you might be mad at me,” you confessed. “Cause you and-and mommy were probably all snuggled up in bed and I came in and messed it all up!”
Natasha stroked your cheek as she shook her head. “No angel. Never. You could never mess up one of our snuggles by asking to be a part of it. We’re both so proud of you, for calling and getting help.”
“P-promise?” You asked.
Natasha held out her pinky, which you wrapped with your own. “Promise.” She confirmed.
Wanda finally got your shoes off and placed them on the floor next to the bed. “Okay little love,” she announced, easing your pajama pants down around your knees. “I’m gonna get some of the nice lotion again, okay?” She’d already put a little on earlier, but she figured it would probably do quite a bit to soothe your current pains, both physically and emotionally.
You wrapped yourself around her, refusing to let her move. You didn’t need silly lotion, you needed her. You whined at the prospect of having to let go.
Natasha giggled and sat down next to Wanda. “Do you want me to do your lotion while you hang onto mommy?”
You nodded, sending her into the next room. Wanda kissed your temple. “I told you she likes you.”
“I’m so spoiled,” you mumbled blissfully into her neck.
“You deserve it, angel,” she said.
Natasha returned to the room with the bottle of lotion. She approached you and rubbed your back gently. “Alright little angel, is it okay if I touch your bottom, or do you want mommy to do that part?”
You pondered for a moment. On one hand, having Wanda do it would mean getting to lay over her lap again. But, you found yourself inexplicably excited by the thought of Natasha putting your lotion on. Maybe, if you played your cards right, you could have the best of both worlds.
“You can do it, Miss Natasha,” you said while flipping yourself over to lay over Wanda’s lap.
“Oh,” Wanda squeaked in pleasant surprise. From this position she could’ve just as easily applied the lotion. She was pleased to know that you wanted Natasha to do it, though. She pulled up your shirt and rubbed your back.
“Okay, it’s gonna be a little cold,” Natasha advised, giggling a little bit when you jumped at the cool liquid anyway. Her hands were so gentle as she soothed your raw skin. You wondered if she was this gentle with her subs as well. “All done. Do you want a kiss?”
You nodded, feeling so completely at ease with the two women taking care of you. Natasha placed a gentle kiss to each of your red ass cheeks.
“Does Tasha’s kisses make it feel all better?” Wanda asked.
You nodded into Wanda’s thigh.
“I’m glad I could help,” Natasha giggled, placing the lotion on Wanda’s nightstand so it’d be ready for you again in the morning. She crawled back into bed, making herself comfortable on her side.
Wanda placed you face down on her own side of the bed, trying not to disturb you too much as she slid her legs out from under your body. She crawled over you, placing herself in the middle between you and Natasha, pulling you tight into her side.
You laid your head on her chest, catching a glimpse of Natasha’s pretty smile in the low lighting. She really didn’t look like she minded you being here at all. In fact, she looked happy.
In your fuzzy haze, you waved at her from across the bed.
Wanda and Natasha both giggled, hearts swelling at the innocence of the gesture. You just wanted Natasha to feel included, and what better way to acknowledge her presence than with a kind wave hello.
Natasha waved back. “Hi, little angel,” she said, reaching over Wanda to pinch your cheek.
You looked up at Wanda, your big eyes gently pleading. “Mommy, do you think I could sleep on your other side so I can be closer to Miss Natasha?”
Wanda smiled giddily. She never expected such a request from you, but she was more than happy to oblige. She was overjoyed to see your relationship with Natasha growing. “Of course, sweet girl,” she said, effortlessly flipping you over to her other side.
“You know, you don’t have to call her Miss Natasha,” Wanda said. You’d always called her that since you’d first met her without any prompting to do so. She certainly didn’t mind, but Wanda had always secretly hoped you’d get past the formality. There was nothing she wanted more than for her two favorite people to love each other as much as she loved them. “I bet she’d like it if you called her daddy. Only if you wanted to.”
You faced Natasha, who looked surprised at the proposal, but nodded.
“I thought only your subs were allowed to call you that?” You said, equally shocked by Wanda’s words.
“Hmm…” she pretended to ponder the question. “For my little angel I think I can make an exception.”
You smiled. “In that case,” you pressed a small kiss to her cheek. “Goodnight daddy.” You turned back to Wanda, placing a kiss on her jaw as you snuggled back into her chest. “Goodnight mommy. I love you.”
“Sweet dreams, little angel,” Natasha said, wrapping herself up behind you.
“Get some rest, little love,” Wanda said, kissing your head.
And finally, the pendulum stopped swinging.
Taglist (ha I remembered this time): @boredandneedsfanfic @marvelwomenarehot0
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inkskinned · 6 months ago
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hello. you left a neon pink post-it with pgs 194-359 due 9/12 in the book, by the way. it is now May 23rd and the library's printer is running out of ink. it jammed and tore my passport application. one of the librarians dutifully blacked out all my information (front and back!) before proceeding to use every unmarred inch as scrap paper.
i think maybe our (plural, inclusive) lives are connected. all of them. i have been thinking a lot about borrowing. about how people move through the world in waves, filling in the same spaces. i have probably stood on the same subway platform as you. we held the same book. all of us stand in the same line at the grocery, at the gas station. how many feet have stood washing dishes in my kitchen?
i hope you are doing well. the pen you used was a nice red, maybe a glitter pen? you have loopy, curling handwriting. i sometimes wonder if it is true that you can tell a personality by the shape of our letters. i'm borrowing my brother's car. he's got scrangly engineer handwriting (you know the one). it's a yellow-orange ford mustang boss. when i got out of the building, some kids were posing with it for a selfie. i felt a little bird grow in me and had to pause and pretend to be busy with my phone to give them more time for their laughing.
i have a habit of asking people what's the last good book you read? the librarian's handwriting on the back of my smeared-and-chewed passport application says the glass house in small undercase. i usually go for fantasy/sci fi, but she was glowing when she suggested it. i found your post-it on page 26, so i really hope you didn't have to read up to 359 in that particular book. i hope you're like me and just have a weird "random piece of trash" "bookmark" that somehow makes it through like, 58 books.
i wish the concept of soul mates was bigger. i wish it was about how my soul and your soul are reading the same work. how i actually put down that book at the same time you did - page 26 was like, all exposition. i wish we were soul mates with every person on the same train. how magical to exist and borrow the same space together. i like the idea that somewhere, someone is using the shirts i donated. i like the idea that every time i see a nice view and say oh gosh look at the view, you (plural, inclusive) said that too.
the kids hollered when i beeped the car. oh dude you set off the alarm, oh shit is she - dude that's her car!! one was extremely polite. "i like your car, Miss. i'm sorry we touched it." i said i wasn't busy, finish up the pictures. i folded your post-it into a paper crane while i waited. i thought about how my brother's a kind person but his handwriting looks angry. i thought about how for an entire year i drove someone to work every day - and i didn't even think to ask for gas money. my handwriting is straight capital letters.
i thought about how i can make a paper crane because i was taught by someone who was taught by someone else.
the kids asked me to rev the engine and you know i did. the way they reacted? you would have thought i brought the sun from the sky and poured it into a waterglass. i went home smiling about it. i later gave your post it-turned-bird to a tiny child on the bus. she put it in her mouth immediately.
how easy, standing in your shadow, casting my own. how our hands pass over each other in the same minor folds. i wonder how many of the same books you and i have read. i wonder how many people have the same favorite six songs or have been in the same restaurant or have attended the same movie premier. the other day i mentioned the Book Mill from a small town in western massachusetts - a lot of people knew of it. i wonder if i've ever passed you - and didn't even notice it.
i hope whatever i leave behind makes you happy. i hope my hands only leave gentle prints. i hope you and i get the same feeling when the sun comes out. soulmates across all of it.
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auroralwriting · 4 months ago
Text
poker face
spencer reid x fem!bau!reader
spencer and you go to the casino to find the unsub. you think he looks pretty hot playing poker.
word count: 2.0k
warnings: making out, gambling, poker face spencer aghhh
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"Forensics got a fingerprint match on the last victim. Eddie Langdon. We're looking into him." You said as you walked back into the office that held some of your team members.
Hotch came in behind you, "Hey, any luck?" Emily asked.
"No, they don't want to allocate agency funds for the buy-in. I'm still working on it." Hotch replied, looking down to his phone as he got back on another call.
Rossi chuckled, "Well, I can't imagine why not. We're only asking for fifty thousand bucks of taxpayer money so that FBI agents can play Texas hold 'em."
Emily eyed Rossi, "Hey, what about you?"
"What about me? What?"
"You could stake us the buy-in." Emily smirked.
Spencer sat down next to you, "Yeah, you're a best-selling author."
You nodded enthusiastically, "Don't forget a best-selling author and longtime FBI agent. You could loan us the money, or something."
"No," Rossi shook his head.
"Why not?" Emily frowned.
"One, it's against regulations, and I'd like to hold on to this job for a little while longer." Rossi began.
Under your breath, you muttered, "It's just a little violation, 's all."
Rossi just rolled his eyes at your comment. "And two, I prefer to spend my money on actual things, like single-malt scotch, a fine cigar, beautiful artwork."
"Poker chips are things!" JJ replied quickly with a smile.
Rossi just scoffed as Spencer spoke up again. "Maybe just think of it as like a new experience. I mean, at your age, how often does that happen?" Oh, no he didn't.
"At my what?" Rossi slowly turned his head to Spencer who just gulped and awkwardly looked away.
"Rossi, this may be our only chance to get this guy." You said slowly. "They government isn't going to give us the money. You're our only way to catch this killer. Please?" You paused for a moment. "And if it helps, you can just write a new book to get some more cha-ching."
Rossi sighed, "All right, fine. But I'm ignoring that last comment. I'm a decent poker player, but I can't promise that I can stay in the game long enough to--"
"You know what?" Emily interrupted. "I bet you're a great poker player, but what if we sent in Reid?"
"I am banned from casinos in Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Parump because of my card-counting ability." Spencer commented as if it was the most casual thing in the whole world.
You raised your hand slightly, "Why did I not know this sooner?"
"Look, I know I'm not a genius like the boy wonder here, but poker is not Blackjack." Rossi argued. "It's about bluffing, reading human nature, head games. It's not math."
That's when Spencer stood up, "That's not entirely accurate. There actually is a mathematical equation for knowing when to raise and when to fold. If P represents the size of the pot at the time of play, then P times N minus one, with N representing the estimated number of players in the final round of betting--"
"Okay! Fine, I surrender!" Rossi cut Spencer off quickly. "Just try not to lose all my money. Actually, you know what?" Rossi quickly spoke your name. "Take her with you, I don't want you losing all my money and if she needs to interrupt the game, then so be it."
Your eyes widened, "Rossi, I've never stepped foot into a casino in my life."
"You'll be fine!" Rossi waved it off as Spencer gave you a comforting look.
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Oh, this was not what you expected at all.
Spencer and you had to get checked by security with the handheld metal detectors. Yours didn't go off, but Spencer's did. He played it off as just a pen. Thank god they accepted that.
The two of you walked in. For someone who stared at dead bodies and killers all day, this was the most nerve wracking thing you'd experienced in a while. It also didn't help that Hotch decided you and Spencer were to play a couple when you had such a big crush on him.
"Hey," Spencer muttered, "It's okay."
"Just nervous," You replied under your breath. The two of you made your way to the bar. Spencer got himself a drink, and you got some champagne. "Is it really just math?"
Spencer nodded, "Math, and a little bit of luck."
The moment you felt Spencer take your hand, you tried to pull away. "Spencer, what about germs--"
"I don't mind your germs, you're my friend. Plus, we have a part to play, remember?" Spencer muttered, locking his fingers between yours. Your heart pounded as you did the same.
"I'll observe as you play," You muttered, remembering the list of things you needed to look for to find the unsub. "I know you don't need it, but good luck."
Spencer smiled at you, the comment being just so sweet and innocent. "Thank you." You looked so nervous, so out of place. It made Spencer notice you more.
Spencer had taken a seat at a table, which you stood behind him, leaning over his shoulder. Your hands rested on the back of the chair. So far, no one caught your eye, until one man at another table did. Casually, you poked Spencer and he caught onto your stare.
"You know, would it be all right if I sat at table two instead of four? I have a pre-glaucoma condition and the light's kind of bothering my eyes." Spencer called over the employee, who took him to the desired table.
The men didn't just eye Spencer as he sat down, you noticed they eyed you too. Defensively, you wrapped your arms around Spencer's neck from behind. "Ah, I'm calling." One of the men said."
"I'll raise." One guy said. You stared at him, noticing his red eyes. Weird. "Eight thousand."
"Eight thousand.. That's, uh, fifty-six months wages for the average person in Bangladesh." Spencer commented casually. In reply, you giggled and played with some of hair, pushing it out of his face. Spencer hoped you didn't feel his face turn hot under your fingers. "Uh, kind of makes you think, doesn't it?"
"Hey, it's eight thou to you." One guy remarked. "Now, are you in or are you out?"
Spencer sighed, "I.. am in. And I raise."
"Three raise? That's too rich for my blood." The guy sighed. One man, the one who raised before Spencer, bored holes into him.
"Are you in, sir?" Spencer asked.
"I'll call."
"Call?"
Spencer flipped his cards, "Straight."
Based on everyone's reactions and Spencer's coy face, straight was a very good thing. Playing the act, you kissed Spencer's forehead and squealed lightly, deciding to stroke his cheek for a moment. "A gut shot straight draw? Are you kidding me?"
"That is just-- that is nuts."
It was no wonder Spencer was banned from casinos. Spencer's poker face was good. He simply just covered his mouth after a moment and stared, watching everyone's reactions. His hand slowly ran down to his chin, and in that moment, it did it for you. Sure, Spencer was your cute little nerd, but he'd never been so hot to you.
You noticed next to the man who was staring, he had an eight ball keychain. "Hey, mind if I look at this?" You asked, reaching for it.
The man was quick to grab your hand hard. Spencer jumped into action, pulling you from him.
"Hey. What's the problem, sir?" An employee asked.
"She's reaching for my chips!"
"I'm not even in the game," You remarked.
The employee grabbed your arms, "You need to come with me."
If Spencer's eyes could've gotten any wider, they would've popped out of his head. "Hey! Don't manhandle her! She can walk, let go!" Spencer ripped the mans arms off of you and pulled you into his chest. "Come on, love. Let's just go."
Spencer's words caused your chest to tingle as he guided you away. You watched as he clicked the call-device, it lit up red. The look on the mans face, your unsub, was clear. He knew.
You met up with the team as you were lead out the doors, "They're FBI agents," Hotch informed the guard.
"There he goes, plaid shirt, baseball hat." Spencer pointed.
After searching the whole casino, the unsub made a break for it. His name was Curtis Banks. You and Spencer were sent to his house to see if he was there. After a quick search, it was clear he wasn't there.
"Hey Hotch, he isn't here. There's a foreclosure sign in the lawn." You informed your chief.
"All right, you and Reid stay there in case he comes back." Hotch hung up the phone.
You shrugged to Spencer, "And we wait."
After a beat of silence, Spencer turned to you. "At the casino, you couldn't keep your hands off of me after I won." Spencer said out of nowhere. "Your physical proximity was close, you frequently stared at me--"
"I was playing my part," You argued.
"Yeah, too well." Spencer pointed out. "Were you checking me out?"
Heat rose to your cheeks, "No. Why would I do that?"
"Look at me and say it," Spencer demanded, but his tone wasn't harsh. It was simply just firm. "You won't look at me."
Slowly, you turned to look at Spencer, "I wasn't checking you out."
"You can't look me in the eyes. You've never not looked me in the eyes." Spencer continued.
"Stop profiling me," You tried to end the discussion. It was clear Spencer had caught you. You weren't interested in being turned down, especially when you were in some sort of steak-out with the genius.
Spencer frowned, "I'm not profiling you. I'm just telling you as it is."
"That's what profiling is," You countered. "We don't need to have this conversation. Was I checking you out? Yes, I was. Is that what you wanted me to say? That you looked so damn hot winning thousands of dollars with your best poker face while you let me all over you?"
Spencer said your name, but you kept rambling. It took him grabbing your chin and forcing your face closer to his to make you stop. "You think I'm hot?"
"Yeah," You stuttered. "Yeah, I do."
Slowly, Spencer trailed his finger over your bottom lip. "I always thought you were the most gorgeous girl I'd ever seen."
"Where's this confidence coming from?" You asked.
Spencer shrugged, "Gamblers frequently experience a phenomenon called the 'winning high,' it releases dopamine and adrenaline, making gamblers do riskier things than they'd normally do."
"You gonna use that high to kiss me?" Your voice was a mere mutter. Your lips were just grazing Spencers.
"Is that what you want?" Spencer lowly asked.
"What do you think?" You retorted.
Spencer's lips slammed onto your own, harder than you expected. His large hand had the back of your neck, and he pulled you impossibly closer. It was hot, just how you wanted it. Flimsily, Spencer reached to the bottom of his seat to scoot it back. His hands went to your hips, guiding you to move across the seats to his lap.
"You know, we're still on the lookout." You mumbled, pressing another kiss to the genius's lips.
"They haven't called us yet." Spencer challenged, hand running down your back to your waist.
Slowly, Spencer's hand began to creep up your shirt, just to your navel-level. His kisses descended to your neck, pressing opened mouth, warm kisses to your skin.
"Spence," You whined, grabbing his hair to push him closer. He sighed in reply.
You both jolted when your phone began to ring. You grabbed it quickly, "What?"
"Ooh, someone's frisky." Derek teased over the phone. "We got the guy. You two are all good to head back."
"Thanks, Morgan. See you back there." You hung up the phone, tossing it back to to your seat. "Looks like we have to wrap this up."
Spencer smirked, "We fly back in the morning. We'll find some time soon."
Spencer's words weren't a tease, they were a promise.
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