#i’m trying to put feelings into words right now and it’s not working | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

focusonkayjay · 2 days ago

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between the ride and the roses (5)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Word count: 5.8k

Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

Chapter Warnings: mature language, mentions of an injury, jungkook is drowning in the sea of denial, heavy angst, misunderstandings, disagreements

A/N: well, i don't have much to say about this chapter. however, i am making a taglist, so please let me know if you want to be added <3 thank u for making it this far into the series, stay tuned for more !!

part 5: gears and vines of tension

You absently twirl the ramen in your bowl, your chopsticks moving in slow, deliberate circles as a heavy sigh slips past your lips. The warm steam rises from the broth, but it does little to soothe the tight knot forming in your chest.

Just an hour ago, the townhall meeting about the town fair ended, and now you find yourself seated at a small booth in a Japanese restaurant just around the corner, surrounded by your friends who, as usual, are keenly aware of what's going on in your mind..

You try to focus on the food, the familiar scent of miso and soy sauce, but your mind keeps drifting back to one thought: Jungkook. The idea of working with him for the fair that is set to happen two months from now, has lodged itself in your brain, and you can’t shake it off. Of all the people in this town, it had to be him, the one person who managed to make your blood boil with nothing more than a glance.

It's almost amusingly comical, if it weren’t so frustrating. The universe, it seems, has a twisted sense of humor, and today, it has decided that you must work side-by-side with him, out of all people.

The sheer irony of it... the fact that you, someone who prides yourself on peace, order, and avoiding conflict at all costs, are now paired with Jungkook for something as important as the town fair. It gnaws at you.

You feel your grip on the chopsticks tighten, the wood digging into your palms as you try to concentrate on anything other than the growing sense of dread in the pit of your stomach. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t escape the reality that you’ll have to spend an extended period of time with him, and that thought alone is enough to make you want to scream.

From across the table, your friends are watching you with knowing glances, their eyes flickering back and forth between you and the others. They know exactly what’s going on in your mind, and judging by the subtle smirks on their faces, they’re enjoying this more than they probably should.

Taehyung leans forward, a grin spreading across his face as he watches you with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Teaming up with Jungkook for the fair? Oh, this is gonna be good.” he teases, the amusement practically oozing from his words. His grin grows wider as he waits for your response, clearly relishing your discomfort.

Seokjin chimes in next, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d have to cooperate with the infamous biker boy. What’s next? You two finally getting along?” His eyebrows rise dramatically as he leans back, laughing.

You slump further into your chair, your fingers still gripping the chopsticks so tightly that you feel like you might snap them in half. A tired sigh escapes your lips. “I highly doubt it.” you mutter under your breath, your frustration clear in your tone.

“It’s bad enough I’m stuck with him for the fair, but do I have to hear this from you guys too?” You look up at your friends, meeting their teasing eyes with a halfhearted glare, but it’s impossible to stay mad at them for long. They’re enjoying this too much, and you can’t help but feel like the punchline of some inside joke.

“Come on, Y/N...” Namjoon says, his voice soft and rational, like he’s trying to calm you down. “You two have history, right? Maybe this is a good chance to... I don’t know, put the past behind you??” he suggests.

You shake your head almost immediately, a quiet laugh escaping you. “It’s not that simple.” you reply quickly, the words tumbling out without thinking.

“We don’t get along, Joon. This isn’t some... rom-com where we magically start clicking after a few awkward encounters. This is real life. And in real life, I can’t just forget about everything that’s happened between us.” you pause, taking a deep breath.

“Sure, sure,” Juwon adds with a teasing smile, her tone a little too playful. “Just don’t kill him before the fair is over, okay?” She laughs, but there’s an edge of genuine curiosity in her voice. She's not sure whether you’re joking or not.

You roll your eyes, half-annoyed and half-amused. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” you reply dryly, your voice thick with sarcasm. But even as the words leave your mouth, you can feel your thoughts slipping into darker territory.

The teasing continues as your friends rally around you, throwing playful jabs and remarks that only seem to make things worse. It’s hard to stay angry at them when they genuinely believe there’s some kind of positive outcome buried somewhere in this mess.

They see the potential for you and Jungkook to patch things up, and while part of you knows they mean well, another part of you can’t shake the nagging feeling that this situation is just a train wreck waiting to happen.

You might not be as optimistic as they are, but they’re all so convinced something good could come out of this, and it makes your frustration feel even more intense.

Jungkook, on the other hand, feels just as conflicted, though he’d never admit it. The whole town fair situation is just another annoying obstacle in his otherwise meticulously curated routine.

He’s not keen on the idea of working with you, at all. In fact, the very thought gnaws at him, like a thorn embedded deep inside, constantly prodding at his sense of control.

He’s already juggling a whirlwind of emotions—feelings he doesn’t fully understand, confusions he’s too afraid to face. And if that wasn’t difficult enough already, now he has to stick by you and actually work with you. All those stolen glances, those subtle moments of help, the cold silences... it all amounts to this, and he has no idea how to deal with it.

Even though both of you haven’t fought in a while, the tension still hangs thick in the air when you're in the same vicinity. It’s so glaringly obvious, like a dark cloud that refuses to dissipate.

The truth is, Jungkook has grown to admire you from a distance, but that only makes the situation more complicated. His feelings for you are a constant ache in his chest, something he can’t quite untangle. And now, here he is, stuck with you in a situation that feels like the last thing he wants.

But no matter how much he wishes it weren’t true, when Mr. Kwon’s words echo in his mind, he knows there’s no escaping it. The town fair is something both of you will have to navigate together, whether you guys like it or not.

Still, that doesn’t mean his friends are going to let him off the hook so easily.

“Seems like you have no choice but to get along with Y/N, huh?” Yoongi’s voice is low, almost teasing, but Jungkook can hear the hidden challenge beneath the surface. It’s a comment that cuts deeper than he wants to admit.

Jungkook scowls, his fingers tightening around the soda can he’d just grabbed, the metal crinkling under his grip. “Shut up, hyung.” he mutters through clenched teeth, the words more defensive than he intended. "I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but we’re just going to work together, and that's it." he states, trying and failing to keep his voice neutral. The words taste like ash in his mouth.

“Yeah, sure.” Hoseok adds, leaning in with that familiar, mischievous grin of his. “Just working. The way you look at her says otherwise, though.” His tone is light, but it’s clear he’s enjoying Jungkook’s discomfort a little too much.

“Shut up.” Jungkook snaps, his irritation flaring. He can’t stand their constant teasing, the way they poke at something he’s not ready to face. It’s as though they can see right through him, and it makes him want to retreat even further into himself. And since, he’s been avoiding you... avoiding everything about you like it’s some kind of plague, having to confront it head-on seems impossible.

Jimin, however, is the one who really gets under his skin. “I’ve noticed all those lingering looks you give her. I get it... you’re still holding on to something. But come on, man. It’s been ages. Just face it and talk to her.”

“That’s none of your business.” Jungkook growls, his voice low and thick with frustration. His temper is a simmering volcano, and it doesn’t take much for it to erupt. He hates that they can see through him so easily, as if every thought, every feeling, is written on his face.

And worst of all, he doesn’t want to think about you. Not now, not ever. But there you are, constantly in the back of his mind, disrupting his every thought.

“Maybe this is your chance to… fix things.” Yoongi muses, his voice taking on an almost knowing tone, like he understands something Jungkook isn’t ready to admit to himself.

Jungkook remains silent, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turn white. His jaw is set in a firm line, but inside, he feels a stirring unease. Fix things? With you? No, that’s not what he wants. Not at all.

But something about the space you’ve left in his life lately, the absence of your presence,,, it’s bothering him more than it should. It feels... wrong. And he can’t figure out why.

The emptiness in his chest is growing, and it’s eating away at him. He tries to ignore it, to shove it back down where it belongs, but the truth keeps creeping up on him and he’s not ready to face this. Not yet.

When the meetings finally start, you and Jungkook sit across from each other, a few feet apart, neither of you daring to breach the silence in the community center. The air between the two of you feels charged, thick with tension, like an invisible wall keeping you at arm's length.

Each glance, each shift of position, carries an unspoken weight, and even the faint sound of your breathing feels too loud. Every word spoken feels like an effort, a conscious choice to avoid snapping, but it’s almost impossible not to.

The first task at hand is the layout. You, the florist, are in charge of the decoration, but you know full well that it’s a collaborative effort, especially with Jungkook needing to ensure the space is functional. You’ve done this before, worked under pressure, but with him? It feels different. The stakes are higher, the frustration more palpable.

“So..." you start, forcing your voice to remain steady and calm, even as the anticipation lingers in your chest. “We need to figure out where the booths will be placed. The flower arrangements need to complement the flow of traffic, and we can’t block the stage view.” You turn to him, meeting his gaze for a brief moment before quickly averting your eyes, as though the intensity of the connection might shatter the thin facade you’ve managed to maintain.

Jungkook, however, seems unfazed. His eyes flicker briefly towards you, but it’s clear his attention is elsewhere. “Fine.” he mutters flatly, his voice devoid of any real emotion. He scrolls through his phone as if he’s in a different world entirely. “Tell me where to put the tents.” he says.

You feel a flicker of irritation at his nonchalant response, but you force yourself to stay composed. “It’s not that simple.” you reply, your voice sharper than intended. “You have to work with the dimensions. The booths need to be spaced properly to avoid crowding. Otherwise, the flow will be a mess.” you explain.

He hums in acknowledgment, but his focus never leaves the screen of his phone, his posture relaxed, almost too casual. He gives you nothing to go on, no acknowledgment that he’s actually listening, and yet, he doesn’t argue.

He’s making an effort, or so it seems, but the effort feels as half-hearted as his tone. You lay out the details of the booth placement, watching as his eyes dart back to his phone, the quick flicks of his thumb on the screen like a rhythm you’ve grown all too familiar with. It’s frustrating, to say the least.

Still, he doesn’t outright ignore you. That’s something, right? A small victory, perhaps, but not enough to quell the simmering unease that’s growing within you. He’s pretending not to care, pretending like this is just another mundane task in his life. And maybe, in his mind, it is. But in yours? It’s so much more than that.

The following days unfold in a similar pattern. The meetings don't happen every single day. Maybe just two to three times a week. Whenever you sit down to discuss, you both speak in clipped tones, each of you trying to push your own agenda without crossing the invisible line into conflict.

It’s a game of subtle manipulations, of measuring your words carefully so as not to give anything away. Jungkook does his best to remain distant, as if he’s above it all... his expressions impassive, his body language indifferent. It’s the perfect mask, and he wears it well, making it nearly impossible to gauge what he’s really thinking.

And yet, despite the stone-cold exterior, you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something more beneath the surface. You catch the fleeting glances he throws your way when he thinks you’re not looking, the slight tension in his shoulders when you speak, and the subtle shift in his tone when he responds.

He’s trying to remain uninterested, trying to pretend he doesn’t care. But the little cracks in his armor? They don't fully hide from you.

However, neither of you is willing to make the first move. The walls you’ve both built around yourselves remain as sturdy as ever. The resentment, though unspoken, hangs in the air, a silent presence that neither of you dares to address. The past still looms large between you, an unspoken history that neither of you is ready to confront.

And so, you continue to go through the motions, working side by side but never truly together. The tension remains thick, like a fog you can’t see through, and the distance between you only seems to grow with each passing day.

For Jungkook, the real battle wasn’t the fair planning... it was you.

Every time your voice echoed in his ears, or your eyes briefly met his, it felt like a thousand invisible threads tangled around his chest, pulling him in every direction at once.

He didn’t understand it. He couldn’t. He tried so hard to stay indifferent, to bury it all beneath layers of cold indifference, but no matter how hard he fought, you had a way of slipping past his defenses.

The harder he tried to focus on the task at hand like the booths, the layout, the logistics, the more you seemed to invade his thoughts. It was maddening, the way you lingered in his mind even when he tried to distract himself.

The sound of your voice, the soft rhythm in your words, the way your eyes sparkled when you were engaged in something you loved... everything about you pulled at him, and he hated it.

He hated how easily he found himself drawn to you, despite everything. Despite the history between you, despite the distance he worked so hard to maintain. He had a job to do. He wasn’t here for this. He wasn’t here for you.

But it didn’t stop him from noticing.

He would notice the way your hair fell in soft waves, catching the light just enough to make it look like something from a dream.

He would notice the curve of your smile as you spoke to your friends sometimes, right before looking at him as he waits for you to head towards the community center together, and the way your smile instantly drops when you spot him makes his chest tighten in ways he didn’t know how to explain.

He would notice how your fingers gently caressed the petals of the flowers you arranged, each movement graceful and deliberate, like everything you touched turned into something beautiful.

It was all so distracting. And in that distraction, Jungkook found himself irritated by his own reaction. He hated how you made his heart race with the simplest of gestures, how his breath hitched when your gaze lingered on him a fraction longer than necessary.

He hated how much you affected him, how your presence seemed to make everything else fade away, as if the world revolved around you and him, suspended in the space between words.

He tried to shut it out. He tried so hard to ignore the flutter in his chest, to keep his focus sharp and steady, but each time you spoke, each time you glanced his way, it became harder. He tried to play it cool, tried to act like none of it mattered, but the truth was... it did matter. It mattered more than he wanted it to.

He despised how beautiful you were, how effortlessly you seemed to captivate every room you entered, how every little thing you did seemed to leave an imprint on his soul. You were the storm he couldn’t weather, the fire he couldn’t outrun, and he hated that he couldn’t escape it.

Every glance, every moment of interaction, felt like a slow burn, a tension he couldn’t release no matter how hard he tried. And the worst part? He couldn’t even find it in himself to want to escape it anymore.

Maybe, deep down, he didn’t want to. Maybe he was tired of pretending that it didn’t matter, tired of trying to push down the feelings that seemed to bubble up from the depths of his chest, no matter how hard he fought them.

There were nights when he would lay awake, the weight of the day pressing down on him, and he could still hear your voice echoing in his mind, still see the way your eyes flickered with a hint of something... something he couldn’t quite place. Something that made him think maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the only one feeling this tension.

But he never asked. He couldn’t. He didn’t know how to start.

So instead, he buried it, deep down where it could fester. He buried the way his heart seemed to beat a little faster when you walked into the room, and the way his thoughts would drift to you even when he tried to focus on something else.

He buried the guilt of knowing he was avoiding it, of knowing that he was pushing away something that, in some twisted way, he was beginning to want more than anything else.

Because, no matter how much he tried to pretend he didn’t care, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that it was all just a fleeting distraction, he was lying to himself.

He cared. More than he should. And it terrified him.

The days continue to blur into one another, each meeting a subtle repetition of the last. But as time passes, you both start to find a rhythm. The awkward silences between you become less frequent, and though the tension never fully dissipates, it becomes something more manageable.

Now, with only one month left for the town fair, your tasks seemed to intertwine more seamlessly, and while Jungkook still maintains that nonchalant, almost aloof demeanor, there’s a strange sense of understanding that develops between you two. It’s not friendly, but it’s cooperative, a balance struck somewhere between resentment and reluctant teamwork.

You start to notice the little changes. The way Jungkook no longer scrolls through his phone during every conversation, or how he no longer avoids your gaze completely. He still doesn’t speak much, but when he does, his tone is less dismissive, more practical, like he’s acknowledging that you’re both in this together, for better or for worse.

You can’t quite tell if he’s faking it or if something is actually shifting beneath the surface, but it doesn’t matter. You focus on the work, pushing through the awkwardness because at least, for now, the process is getting done.

As the days progress, there’s a certain ease in the way you both begin to collaborate. You don’t always agree, and you still bicker over details... where exactly the tents should be placed, what color scheme will work best with the space, and how to arrange the flower displays.

But the exchanges are less sharp, less pointed. It’s as if the constant friction between you has smoothed out into something more tolerable.

You start to enjoy the process in small ways, even though Jungkook remains stoic through it all. The occasional glance exchanged across the table, the rare, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment when you make a valid point... those moments feel like victories.

And just when you start to think that maybe this partnership, while not ideal, could work out after all... just when the days seem to stretch into a predictable rhythm and the weight of the past starts to seem less suffocating, you're pulled out of your trance as you glance up at Jungkook who barges into the community center, his shoulders harshly pushing the door open.

Today, you and Jungkook were supposed to sit with Mr. Kwon and a few other committee members to discuss the progress of your planning and work. They're all seated around the table as they watch Jungkook walk inside.

There’s something off about him today. His usual confident stride is replaced by a more cautious pace, and the first thing you notice is the bruise on his cheek... a faint purple mark that looks like it’s only just begun to heal.

Your gaze travels down, noticing the bandages wrapped around his knuckles. For a split second, your stomach churns. You want to ask, to understand, but before you can even take a breath, he’s sitting down without a word, his usual aloofness firmly in place.

You saw him two days ago, and he was completely fine so you look at him, wondering what exactly happened between the interval.

He doesn’t meet your eyes, though you can feel the tension in the air between you. It’s as if the bruise on his face, the bandages on his hands, are somehow adding to the already thick layer of silence between the two of you. His presence fills the room, but in a way that feels more distant than ever.

You’re suddenly acutely aware of the tightness in your chest, the way your heart begins to race, but you force yourself to push those thoughts aside. It’s none of your business, you remind yourself. He’s clearly not in the mood to talk, and you have no right to pry into his life. Your ego keeps you silent, your lips pressed together as you try to focus on the meeting at hand.

The conversation begins, and for a moment, the work distracts you from the storm of emotions swirling inside. But the normal rhythm of the meeting is shattered when a disagreement arises.

It starts with something small... where to position the flowers around the booths, which side will get the best sunlight. The back-and-forth is nothing new, but today, it feels different. Jungkook’s voice is sharper than usual, his irritation more obvious.

“No, it’s wrong.” he snaps, his tone clipped and harsh as he shoots down your suggestion. “I don’t care what you think, it’s just not going to work.” he spits out.

You feel your frustration rising, the familiar tension between you flaring up once again. But this time, it’s worse. Usually it's just the two of you, but today you have spectators. His words hit a nerve, and before you can stop yourself, you shoot back, your voice laced with annoyance. “You don’t have to be so rude about it.”

Jungkook doesn’t back down. His eyes flash with a sudden intensity, his jaw clenching as he leans forward, almost daring you to push him further. “If you stopped pretending to know what you’re doing and actually listened to someone who does, maybe you wouldn’t be so completely useless.”

The words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, everything goes silent in the room. You feel your blood run cold as the sting of his words sinks in. There’s a moment of disbelief, followed by a sharp surge of anger.

You didn’t expect him to snap like that, especially not in front of everyone. But the truth is, you don’t care about the others in the room right now. All you care about is the unbearable pain in your chest that his words have left behind.

Without thinking, you stand up abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor, the noise cutting through the tense silence. You don’t even spare him a glance as you turn to leave, the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

Every step feels like it’s pulling you further away from the meeting, from him, and from the tight knot of emotions you’ve been trying to ignore for so long. The door slams behind you with a resounding finality.

Mr. Kwon and the others in the room are left in stunned silence, but Jungkook doesn’t move. He doesn’t apologize. He doesn’t say a word. He just sits there, staring at the empty space where you had been, the tension now painfully thick enough to cut with a knife.

He doesn’t know what’s worse... the physical pain in his body from the fight with the rival gang he just had before coming here, or the way his words just pushed you further away. But he’s not ready to admit that. Not to anyone. Not even to himself.

"Well..." Mr. Kwon starts, carefully eyeing Jungkook as he glances at the other members. " A little bit of a disagreement, I suppose." he breathes out.

"Let's talk about this calmly in the next meeting." he finally says, after a few seconds as the others silently agree with him. He stands up, softly patting Jungkook on the shoulder, before he exits the community center with the others.

It’s clear that something has shifted. And whatever fragile understanding you had begun to build between the two of you, now seems like a distant memory, lost in the wake of that one, harsh moment. Jungkook doesn’t know how to fix it, but somehow, he knows he’ll have to face it. Eventually.

The moon hangs heavy in the sky, casting its silvery glow across the empty streets below. Jungkook walks towards his shop, hands buried deep in his pockets, but there’s no warmth in the gesture. His body moves, but his mind churns, restless, unwilling to give him the peace he so desperately craves.

The meeting replays in his mind over and over, each iteration like a fresh stab to his chest. He can’t forget the sharpness of his words, the way they cut into you, when he knew better than anyone that you did absolutely nothing to deserve it.

A long, heavy sigh escapes him, but it offers no relief. The tension in his shoulders feels like an unshakeable weight, a burden he can’t cast aside. It wasn’t your fault, none of it.

You had no part in the chaos of his morning... a rush of irate customers, a critical delivery gone wrong, and an absurd brawl with a rival biker gang over something that, in hindsight, seemed like pure stupidity.

Yet, somehow, you ended up on the receiving end of all his frustration, a target for everything he’d been bottling up. Guilt gnaws at him as he walks, the sharp taste of regret lingering on his tongue.

Passing your shop, a soft, golden light spills from the glass door. His steps falter, a flicker of curiosity cutting through the wall his pride has built. It's late, and yet you're still here. He pauses for a moment, unsure, torn between his ego and the pull of something deeper. And then, against all reason, he steps closer, pressing his face to the cool glass, eyes narrowing to catch a glimpse.

The sight of you makes something tighten in his chest. Your back is facing him, but your shoulders tremble, faintly at first, but enough to set his pulse racing. His breath catches, and then the realization hits him like a punch. You’re crying.

His heart slams against his ribs, the sight of your silent sorrow unraveling him in ways he can't fully understand. His legs go weak, and the weight of his regret threatens to crush him. He's the cause of your tears, the reason for this moment of pain.

He stands frozen, torn between guilt and fear... fear that his presence will only make things worse. But the guilt surges, a relentless tide that drowns everything else.

His knees threaten to give away under the pressure of his own actions, and for a fleeting moment, he considers turning away, disappearing into the night. But the ache in his chest keeps him rooted to the spot.

Finally, he exhales, slow and deliberate, and pushes the door open, the soft chime of the bell echoing in the stillness. For a heartbeat, he wonders if you’ll hear it, if you’ll acknowledge his presence.

He steps inside, quiet, careful, as though every movement might break something more fragile than glass. The door closes gently behind him, and he moves closer, inching towards you, but the distance between you both feels like an entire universe.

The words he wants to say get caught in his throat. He doesn’t know if any of them will ever be enough. “Y/N…” His voice cracks, quieter than he intended, raw with the weight of unspoken regret.

You don’t turn around. You don’t flinch. The silence stretches between you like an impassable chasm, and the space feels impossibly wide. His chest tightens further as he watches your back, every muscle in his body aching with the need to fix this, to make it right. But he doesn’t know how.

“Y/N, I…” He swallows, fumbling for words, but none come. He knows an apology won’t undo the damage, but it’s the only thing he has left to offer. “I’m sorry. I...I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I shouldn’t have—”

His words fall short as he sees your shoulders tremble harder, your body shaking with the weight of everything you’ve been holding in. You turn slightly, enough for him to catch the tear tracks on your face, and the sight of them, the way your pain is laid bare before him, pierces him in ways he can’t explain.

“I didn’t mean to … to snap at you like that…” His voice falters, breaking under the strain. He knows it’s too late for his apologies to fix anything. You’ve already heard too much of it, seen too much of his anger.

You wipe your eyes hastily, trying to erase the evidence of your tears, but when you face him fully, there’s nothing but raw pain in your gaze. “No, Jungkook,” you cut him off, your voice trembling with anger but steady, unwavering. “You DON’T get to do this.”

He instinctively steps forward, his hand reaching out, but you step back, sharp and defensive.

“You don’t get to come in here now, after everything, and act like you can fix this with a half-hearted apology!” Your voice rises, shaking with emotion, and the dam finally breaks. “I don’t NEED your apology. I don’t WANT your apology!”

The words hit him like a physical blow, but he doesn’t interrupt. He doesn’t try to stop you. He just stands there, feeling the weight of every word, every accusation, land deep in his chest.

“You made me feel small, Jungkook,” you continue, your voice cracking as tears brim in your eyes again. “Ever since you moved next door, that’s ALL you’ve been doing. It’s like you go out of your way to make my life miserable. Everything you say, everything you do, it makes me feel like I’m constantly losing control over the one thing I’ve built with my own hands. Like me and my shop have always been a joke to you.” You pause, breath hitching as you try to steady yourself.

Jungkook knows exactly where this is coming from. He’s the cause of every inch of this. He feels it in his gut, the crushing weight of his mistakes, and he knows he has no right to defend himself. All he can do is stand there and listen.

“You don’t care. You treat me like crap... like I’m just some part of your day that you can lash out at whenever it suits you.” you spit, your voice trembling with fury. “In your world, it’s always about you. Your thoughts, your problems, your emotions... it’s like nothing else... like no else... exists. You never stop to think about how your words affect anyone else. You never stop to think about how your words affect me.”

Your chest heaves with each word, your voice raw with hurt. And as the weight of your anger presses down on him, Jungkook feels a heavy suffocating knot coil in his stomach. This is all his fault.

“You think I don’t have enough to deal with already?” you continue, voice breaking as your tears spill again. “That I need to be the punching bag for your anger? You don’t get to treat me like that, Jungkook. You have no right to make me feel like I’m the problem when you’re the one who’s always pushing people away.”

The words echo in the empty space between you, a finality that’s impossible to ignore. Jungkook stands there, silent, broken. Each word feels like a strike, each accusation hitting him harder than the last. “Every time I think we’re okay, every time I think we can coexist in peace, you give me a million reasons to prove me wrong. You make me feel so fucking stupid for even thinking we could be friends.”

You run your hands through your hair, tears falling like rain as you try to catch your breath, but it’s hard. The storm inside you isn’t over.

A few moments pass in silence, but it’s deafening, suffocating. You close your eyes, letting out a long, strained sigh. “I’ve had enough.” you whisper, voice raw and exhausted. “I can’t do this anymore... Not with you. Just... just get out, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t move. He can’t. He stands there, paralyzed by the weight of his own guilt. No words come, because he knows that nothing he could say will make things better.

You turn away, your shoulders shaking with the weight of everything you’ve just said, and as you walk further away from him, Jungkook knows he’s lost more than just your trust tonight. He reluctantly steps back, still watching you as he moves towards the door. He knows it won't change anything but before he leaves, he still says it. "I'm sorry."

<- part 4 // part 6 ->

series masterlist

taglist: @kimyishin @ghijkd @dolligguk @mimi1097 (let me know if u wanted to be added !!)

#jungkook fic #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #bts fic #enemies to lovers #jungkook fanfiction

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pbelfz · 2 days ago

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Two to One | 15 |

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader x Midoriya Chapter Title: Spilled Milk Chapter 14 | Chapter 16 Story Masterlist Summary: You are a simple college girl working at a cheap, back alley café! The top heroes, Deku and Ground Zero, visit your work in hopes of ordering coffee, but they pick something else up instead. You begin an interesting relationship with the pair, while slowly becoming aware of certain underhanded tactics they are using. Idolization isn't always that bad… Right?

WARNINGS: gaslighting, domestic violence, alcohol

“You’re WHAT?!”

Hana gaped back at (Y/n), trying to ensure she heard her correctly. (Y/n) smiled sadly at Hana.

“I just… got an opportunity elsewhere…,” she attempted to be vague. Hana didn’t look convinced.

“Please don’t tell me you’re starting an Only Fans.”

(Y/n) gawked. “No–! And even if I was…,” she made a face at Hana. Hana tutted.

“Please don’t tell me you’re starting an Only Fans without me,” she repeated, now laughing. The morning rush shift had slowed down to a nonexistent teeter. (Y/n) smiled at Hana’s comment as she cleaned one of the tables in the dining area of the quaint restaurant. Hana groaned, leaning back with her elbows on the countertop, her head tilting toward the ceiling.

“What am I gonna do without you here?!” Hana groaned at her best friend. (Y/n) announced that she put her two weeks in yesterday when Hana was off. Their manager flipped her shit, but Hana argued that she had it coming and that (Y/n) quitting should be the least of her worries. (Y/n) shrugged.

“I dunno. I’ll still stop by for some lattes. Give you guys some business with my big Only Fans money.”

Hana shook her head. “I’m gonna put my two weeks in tomorrow. Or I might just dip after today and not come back.” Hana’s curls bounced as she turned to check to make sure their manager was in the café backroom. Deep in the café backroom.

“You should stay for the chance of running into Shoto,” (Y/n) recommended, leaning on her elbows on the cashier counter. Katsuki and Izuku had been frequenting their café much more often lately, and she and Hana kid that it was only a matter of time before word of Sato’s traveled to Pro Hero Shoto. However, Hana still shook her head.

“What do you mean? We’re married. I see him every night. Work is my chance to get away from him!” She gave (Y/n) a coy smile. (Y/n) rolled her eyes, grinning, smacking Hana’s arm with a small hand towel.

“Shut up!”

Izuku and Katsuki threw themselves headfirst into their work, and (Y/n) shouldn’t have been surprised. It’s not like she expected things to change after she finally had sex, but she couldn’t help but feel as though the experience wasn’t as life-changing as it was all made out to be.

What was that feeling? That persistent nudging tug in the depths of her mind and gut, telling her that something more should be happening now, either between her, Izuku, and Katsuki or in her life? Disappointment? She lost her virginity to one of the most famous pro heroes in Japan, and the experience wasn’t anything less than euphoric. What was there to be disappointed about?

Maybe how neither Izuku nor Katsuki recognized (Y/n)’s perceived loss of innocence. (Y/n) considered bitterly whether there was even any innocence to ‘lose’, and why would having sex make her any less innocent? Was she dirty now? No, no. That’s not it. (Y/n) didn’t expect the heroes to celebrate or anything of that nature. That’d be rather disturbing. What was she expecting, though? Nothing ultimately changed after the intercourse. Not herself, not really. Not Katsuki. Not Izuku. What the hell even was virginity?

Did she want them to change? What more did she want to come from that experience?

“Izuku?” She called, sitting on the couch one night. It was late; Izuku had just gotten home from a 16-hour shift. (Y/n) never really knew if he and Katsuki chose to work that long willingly – their hours seemed flexible – but she did notice that Katsuki seemed to know his limits and take scheduled breaks throughout the day. She couldn’t say the same about Izuku.

“Yeah?” Izuku replied half-heartedly. He obviously didn’t want to speak to anybody right now. He was digging through the fridge, looking for leftovers to wolf down. (Y/n) was convinced that Katsuki was the only reason why Izuku remembered to even eat and shower or even take care of himself at all. Katsuki’s footsteps could be heard upstairs; he must’ve just gotten out of the shower himself.

“What’s virginity?” (Y/n) blurted obtusely.

The shuffling of plastic containers and cartons in the fridge stopped. Izuku stood upright.

“What?”

He sounded incredulous. (Y/n) didn’t want to look at him because she was so ashamed of her question.

“What’s virginity?” She repeated, a little louder and snappier, in case he didn’t hear her. Izuku looked at the back of her head with a wild stare.

“(Y/n), I’m not–,“ Izuku was not in the mood for whatever she was talking about.

“And what’s the point of it?” (Y/n) continued. Izuku dragged a hand down his face.

“I’m not sure what answer you’re looking for,” he was blunt, more blunt than he cared to be. He was exhausted. He just wanted to eat something, go to bed and turn the world off, not deal with whatever emotional turmoil (Y/n) was feeling.

“I just… don’t feel any different,” (Y/n) pondered aloud, not caring if Izuku wanted to talk or not.

She heard the fridge door shut and footsteps approach. “Uh, good?” Izuku spoke with a mouth full of chicken, which he didn’t even bother to heat up. “It’d be weird if you felt different after having sex?” Izuku stared down at her oddly. (Y/n) rolled her eyes.

“That’s not what I mean. I mean there’s, like…,” she made vague gestures with her hands. “It’s like nothing even happened.”

Izuku was tired, and when Izuku was tired, it was like talking to a brick wall. He was just as stubborn as Katsuki, if not more. This conversation was going nowhere. He swallowed the food he was chewing and shook his head, shrugging.

“I don’t know what to say.”

(Y/n) sighed, frustrated. She got off the couch and stormed up the stairs. “Ugh. Forget it.”

Izuku made his way over to claim the spot on the couch she left, continuing to eat his food.

Okay. (Y/n) can admit that she was being a little fussy. She blew by Katsuki, who was bent over in the middle of the hall replacing his bath items into the closet, and retreated into the bedroom.

Katsuki’s hair was still damp from his shower. He blinked, watching as she disappeared into the bedroom but left the door wide open. Katsuki stared at the door for a minute before inhaling slowly and letting out a sigh. He stood, closed the closet, and rubbed the back of his neck as he hesitantly followed after (Y/n).

He stood in the doorway with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. (Y/n) was on the bed, scrolling on her phone, obviously upset. Katsuki was debating whether he should bite or turn and walk away. Whenever he or Izuku gets into a bad mood, they typically avoid each other lest it blow up in their faces. He didn’t know how this would turn out with (Y/n).

He’ll bite. (Y/n) was more sensitive than Deku. She needed different things than he did. Katsuki was still learning.

He shifted his weight, feeling stiff. “Something happen?”

“No,” came the sharp reply. Katsuki blinked, and his face soured. Katsuki hadn’t heard her use that tone with him before.

“What?” He snapped back.

(Y/n) didn’t look up at him, still scrolling on her phone. “I said, no, nothing happened.”

Katsuki stared at her. “Okay, but something obviously did? Your attitude is shit right now.”

(Y/n) shrugged and shook her head. “Your attitude is always shit. What, I’m not allowed to be upset about something?”

Katsuki threw his head back and closed his eyes. He took a breath. Calm down. “So, something did happen?”

(Y/n) groaned, rolling her eyes. “You guys just… practically ignore me!” She blurted. “You’re never here! I moved out of my apartment, I put my two weeks in at my job for you, and you guys don’t even seem grateful… My whole life is about to change…”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “Us? Grateful? We are paying your tuitionfor your shitty education. We are giving you free housing in one of the safest neighborhoods in Japan. We are giving you complete access to your own bank account with millions of yen already in it with no strings attached. If there’s anyone that should be grateful, I’m looking right at her.”

(Y/n) was teary-eyed at Katsuki’s harsh words. She yelled at him, “What if I was fine before all of that?!”

“Then leave!”

Izuku came up the stairs. He had dark circles under his eyes, and despite the argument, he didn’t appear urgent. “What’s going–“

“Go back to your shitty life. I don’t care,” Katsuki turned and disengaged, going downstairs and leaving (Y/n) crying on the bed.

Izuku could barely stand on two legs from exhaustion, but he relented the fact that Katsuki could handle himself. If there was anyone that needed to be pacified, it was (Y/n). He had to figure out how to settle all of this before the clock struck 1 AM so they could all get to bed peacefully.

He stepped further into the bedroom, staring with dead eyes at (Y/n) as she cried on their bed. He had to push himself to keep walking forward and to sit on the bed next to her. He waited silently for her to stop crying enough to look up at him.

Eventually, her sobs simmered, and she just sniffled. She rubbed her eyes, finally meeting Izuku’s gaze. This was the first time tonight that she really could see the exhaustion on his face, and she felt guilty for making tonight about her.

“What’s going on?” Izuku asks. His voice is calm and quiet, but she hears that tinge of something else – pity.

“I, uh…,” (Y/n) starts, now unsure why she’s upset. “I guess I’m just stressed. And worried. And scared.”

Izuku looked concerned. “About?”

(Y/n) sighed, wiping her eye. “I don’t know,” she paused for a moment. “Katsuki’s right. I should be grateful for all you guys have done for me… I don’t know why I’m feeling like this.”

Izuku glanced off into the hallway, probably trying to determine where Katsuki was in the house. “Are you… not happy here with us?”

(Y/n) instantly shifted to face him fully on the bed. “No, no! That’s not it at all. I’m very happy… It’s just… different.”

He stared at her. “It doesn’t sound like you’re happy. Or look like it, either.”

(Y/n) looked at him oddly, making a point to prevent any more tears from falling. “I am. I am.”

Izuku continued watching her. (Y/n)’s phone vibrated in her hands, and she glanced at it before turning it back over.

“Did we do something to upset you?” Izuku asked. (Y/n) shook her head.

“No, you guys didn’t do anything…,” her voice trailed off.

“We obviously did. What is it?” He could be just as forthright as Katsuki. “We can’t help if we don’t know.” What little patience was left inside of Izuku this evening was nearly depleted. He was trying his hardest to remain present and serene. (Y/n) shook her head. Her phone vibrated again, and Izuku couldn’t help how his gaze flickered down at it.

(Y/n) sighed, realizing Izuku wasn’t really going to leave her alone until she spoke; however, there was an air of shame that surrounded her.

“I just… think I need more attention, maybe…,” she tried not to wince, but she wasn’t sure how well she covered up her embarrassment. “I don’t know. I know you guys have long hours…,” she trailed off once again.

Izuku nodded, “We do.”

“Um…,” she didn’t know what to say next. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for bringing it up. I think I’m just a little emotional after…,” she referred to their night together the other week. And, now that she’d thought about it, it wasn’t like they were completely ignoring her, either. They gave her affection as much as they could, kisses and whatnot. They’d all messed around a bit since that night, but they hadn’t gone ‘all the way’ again. Maybe with each other, but not with (Y/n). She didn’t feel ready to, and she knew that upset Izuku. He didn’t say it, but he always seemed a little disappointed when he saw the hesitance in (Y/n)’s eyes and how her touch was fleeting instead of carrying the same passion they started with. It especially disappointed him how she lingered heavier on Katsuki during their intimate moments, leaving Izuku to occasionally feel like the third wheel. He didn’t want to speculate on why this would be, so he never brought attention to it in hopes that he was imagining it.

“I’m sorry,” what exactly was she apologizing for? She felt like she needed to, though. Izuku looked like he was going to fall over from exhaustion, she’d made Katsuki mad, and here she was complaining when they had given her any girl’s dream life.

Izuku was too tired to address this any further. He glanced at the hallway again to see if Katsuki had returned. He hadn’t. He must’ve banished himself to sleep downstairs on the couch.

“Let’s just go to bed, yeah?” Izuku offered.

(Y/n) sighed but reluctantly nodded, feeling like a piece of her was unfulfilled.

Katsuki and Izuku made more of an effort to attend to (Y/n) after that night by spending more time with her when they were home. It made (Y/n) feel worse because she didn’t want them to think she wasn’t satisfied with all they had given her thus far – and now she could see how they were actively trying to keep her happy on top of all of that? Why couldn’t she just be appreciative to begin with? She tried not to let the guilt eat her alive, especially when she remembered that no other person, let alone two people at once, had ever treated her this preciously.

While the two pro heroes built their relationships individually with (Y/n), tensions rose between them, and it made (Y/n) uncomfortable. She didn’t know if this was how they always were or if something recently sparked this apparent rivalry between the two men. As she spent more time settling into the home and acclimating to her new environment, she couldn’t help but notice the sly remarks or side glances they gave each other – about literally anything. Most of their spats had to do with work. (Y/n) hardly knew what truly occurred in the hero world, so she would stay out of it.

Day by day, though, her guilt faded. She felt happier and able to truly enjoy her place in their home, no longer feeling like an outsider or a guest. She was learning both of them, slowly but surely. Katsuki required a lot of attention, but he’d never outright ask for it. He’d linger around (Y/n), not exactly engaging with her but doing mindless things around the house, and he’d get defensive if she pointed it out. She appreciated it when Katsuki was more honest about his desires, especially when he came home and the first thing he did was give her a kiss. Izuku was an insufferable romantic and very different than Katsuki in that regard. He was much more comfortable showing affection, and he always prioritized his partners’ comfort over his desires.

Izuku was much more cynical than his media personality makes him out to be. Sometimes, he said things that even made Katsuki go silent.

Katsuki was also a very clean person. (Y/n) feels like he might have an oral fixation, or maybe he just really, really enjoys watching her eat his cooking. She isn’t sure.

(Y/n) was getting ready for bed, just getting out of the shower, when she heard the whack of skin coming from the kitchen. She paused, listening, her mind trying to reassure her that it wasn’t what she thought it was. The front door opened and slammed shut – someone left the house, or someone just entered. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears. She quickly tiptoed out of the bedroom, trying not to slip, as she still hadn’t dried off completely, peering down the stairs and into the kitchen.

She caught a glimpse of Izuku sitting at the island by himself. Whatever ruckus went down a few minutes prior no longer remained, and the house was silent. (Y/n) clutched the towel that draped around her, making sure it wasn’t going to fall, as she crept down the stairs.

Izuku glared at her as soon as she entered the kitchen, making her freeze by the door.

“What happened?” (Y/n) asked quietly. Izuku rolled his eyes, finally getting up from his barstool. He opened a kitchen drawer, the one where they kept random medicines, and rummaged through the back of it. He pulled out a cigarette and a lighter he’d stashed there.

(Y/n) watched him as he lit his smoke. She’d never seen him smoke in the house before. She got a glimpse of his face, then. His cheek was red and beginning to lightly bruise. (Y/n)’s eyes widened, and immediately, she flashed back to the events at Koburi Pass. She quickly approached Izuku, cupping his face to get a better look.

“Katsuki did that…?” Her emotions were conflicted. Izuku instantly yanked his face away from her before her fingers could even touch him. He took a drag of his cigarette. Tobacco smoke filled the kitchen, and (Y/n) grimaced. She just noticed now that she was shaking. Neither she nor Izuku said anything to each other for a while. They stood together in the kitchen silently, and (Y/n) watched as Izuku finished his cigarette. He rummaged through the medicine drawer once again, pulling out another cig.

“How many…?”

Izuku cut her off, seemingly already knowing what she was going to ask. “I keep them there. He hasn’t found them yet, or if he has, he hasn’t said anything.”

“Is he going to be upset that you’re smoking in the house?”

Izuku laughed bitterly, smoke blowing out with his exhale. He rolled his eyes again and shook his head.

Izuku practically refused to talk to (Y/n) about anything. The two of them just remained in each other’s presence. (Y/n) felt like he needed that more than to talk through whatever happened. He eventually went to bed, but (Y/n) stayed up. Katsuki hadn’t returned home yet, and (Y/n) had a few words to say to him.

It was around 2 AM when Katsuki returned home.

He closed the front door quietly – a complete difference from the slam hours ago. (Y/n) sat in the kitchen, pouring a glass of milk. She was nervous to see him, to get the truth of what happened. He was taking his time removing his shoes in the genkan, and it made every second feel like years. She forgot she even poured herself a glass of milk, as she stared at the entryway.

Katsuki appeared at the door of the kitchen, and his gaze immediately locked onto (Y/n). He looked a little distracted but otherwise fine. It wasn’t until he stepped further into the kitchen that she realized he was drunk.

He looked down at the untouched glass of milk in front of (Y/n).

“You spilled some,” he muttered. (Y/n) glanced down, noticing that she did indeed spill some milk on the counter when she was pouring it.

“I’ll get it,” she replied, looking back up at Katsuki. “Do you need water?”

Katsuki scoffed but smiled. “No.”

She thought she might as well confront him directly. Her resentment was teeming, “Why’d you hurt Izuku?”

The befuddled, faraway stare that Katsuki held hardened a little when she said that. He almost felt guilty. He swallowed, the alcohol loosening his lips more than he liked.

“He pissed me off,” he gave a slight shrug of the shoulder. Careless but honest.

Katsuki was always honest but never careless. (Y/n) decided then that she didn’t like this side of Katsuki. Her stomach felt tight.

“So, if I ever piss you off, you’ll do the same to me?” She snapped.

Katsuki shook his head, scowling at the ridiculousness of her question. He still stood in the doorway, almost caging her in, and (Y/n) noticed just how small she really was to them, to this big house. They stared at each other. Katsuki blinked then sighed, walking over to the fridge. (Y/n) was acutely aware of his movements, like she was locked in a room with a starving lion that circled her. The lion hadn’t pounced yet, but she could feel it in her bones that he was still eager to attack.

He shrugged, reaching for a beer from the bottom shelf – in the way back of the fridge.

“Guess not,” was his answer.

That wasn’t good enough for (Y/n), but she knew not to press the issue right now, not while he’s like this.

He popped open the beer bottle, threw away the cap, and plodded to the living room. She heard him collapse on the couch with a sigh.

(Y/n) stayed away from him for a while.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bkdk x reader #reader x bakudeku #mha x reader #tto

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ahintofchaos · 3 days ago

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Solace with You

Summary:

After a frustrating day at work, you come home to Agatha's endless love for you. Domestic fluff and some silliness. And an appearance from Senor Scratchy, because he's of course in my post-canon personal canon.

I'm pretty sure this is just 2700 words of weapons-grade fluff.

“Aggie?”

“Upstairs, darling!”

She must be in your bedroom. You don’t even bother to hang up your coat, just tossing it over the back of the couch on your way to the stairs. You hustle up the stairs, your shoes clomping on the wooden treads. You forgot to take them off at the door. Usually it’s Agatha who’s always bringing her shoes upstairs. Then of course getting mad when she can’t find them again. You kick off your shoes as you walk down the hall, leaving them strewn around. You’ll collect them later. Right now, you couldn’t care less. You stopped in the doorway of your shared bedroom, bracing a hand on the doorframe.

Agatha was laying on top of the freshly made bed, book in hand. She looked up when she heard you arrive. “Hi, hon. How was work?”

You heaved a dramatic sigh in response.

“Aw, bad day?”

You shrugged. “Long. Frustrating.”

Agatha tsked. “I’m sorry baby, that’s the worst. C’mere.” She patted your side of the bed, and you needed no further invitation, hopping onto the plush mattress and leaning back against the pillows. Agatha looped one arm around you, the other still holding her now forgotten book. You leaned your head on her shoulder, breathing in the familiar comforting scent of her. Lavender and a tiny bit of smoke.

“You did some magic today,” you said. It was more of a statement than a question. Her magic always left her smelling slightly fiery.

Agatha hummed an affirmative. “Practiced some spells. Figured out how to enchant the stove to always ignite.”

“Ooh, thank you.” You nuzzled your face against the side of her neck, feeling her smile at the brush of your nose against her sensitive spots. Even with the comfort Agatha always provided you, you couldn’t shake the feelings of unfulfillment and dissatisfaction that had followed you all day. You breathed in deep, trying to collect all the tension in your body and let it out in one big sigh. It helped, but not completely.

Agatha turned to kiss the side of your head. “What’s got you frustrated, baby?”

“I don’t know,” you huffed. “Everything? I feel so restless and blocked. Like I’m trying to do something but I can’t figure out what it is or how to do it. The ideas won’t come, even though I want them to. I feel very ineffective. I want to write and do things, but I can’t right now and I don’t know why!” You were almost at a whine, thoroughly overwhelmed by your brain’s refusal to cooperate today.

Agatha smoothed her hand over your hair. “My poor baby. Tell you what. You go ahead and turn your pretty little brain off for the rest of today, and I will take care of everything.”

“Mm, that sounds good.”

“You’re working too hard, hon. You’ve got to give your mind a rest sometimes."

You swallowed. “I feel stupid right now, Aggie.”

“Hush. Don’t talk like that. You’re brilliant. You’re an incredibly talented, wildly capable, absolutely brilliant person. You are a treasure. My treasure.”

You pressed a kiss to the side of her throat. “Thank you.”

“Come here, my love.” Agatha put her finger under your chin, lifting your head so you could meet her eyes. She leaned her forehead to yours for a moment before meeting your lips in a sweet kiss.

Kissing Agatha was almost always the cure for what ailed you. You could kiss her every minute of the day and still want more. Luckily for you, she felt the same.

Her lips on yours helped lift a weight off your shoulders that you hadn’t realized you were carrying. After a long moment, you separated with a soft smile on your face.

“There, that’s what I like to see,” Agatha said softly. She slid off the bed, keeping her arms out to tell you to stay. You pouted.

“I wanna stay with you.”

Agatha smiled at this, and reached across the bed to scoop you closer to her. “Well then, come on, my love. We’re making some tea and dinner.”

You clasped Agatha’s hand as she led you downstairs to the kitchen. Senor Scratchy was lounging in the window seat, and perked his ears up when he saw you come in. You separated from Agatha long enough to kiss him on his fuzzy head, then rejoined her in the kitchen. She waved her hand at the stove, lighting it instantly with bright purple flames. No sooner had she filled the kettle and set it on the burner did it start to whistle. “Showoff,” you murmured. Agatha smirked. She poured some loose tea into a strainer, then placed it in your favorite mug.

You received your tea with grateful hands. The warmth of the cup pressed against your palms helped to smooth some of your agitation. Slowly but surely Agatha was working her magic on you. Not real magic, no incantations or spells, but her incredible knack for calming you no matter what. You could weather anything by her side, you were sure of it. For all of her fire and passion, she was hopelessly devoted to you, and her presence was a steadiness you could always rely on.

Agatha prepared dinner for each of you, then shuttled you over to the couch. You flopped onto it as dramatically as you could without spilling your tea, and Agatha set the food down on the coffee table before draping a midnight blue blanket over the two of you, making sure to tuck it around your legs securely. She wrapped her arm around you, coaxing you to lean into her, which you did without much effort on her part.

She kissed the top of your head. “There we go, darling. All cozy?”

You nodded, your eyes closed in contentment. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. More than you’ll ever know.”

You hummed in contentment, then stopped. “Your book,” you said, “it’s still upstairs.”

Agatha turned to look at you. “So?”

“I interrupted your reading. Do you want me to go get it?”

“Absolutely not, honey. You’re relaxing. We’re both relaxing. No pesky spellbooks right now.” She waved her hand, bringing your plates closer to you with magic. You giggled at her. Agatha took her fork and raised it to your lips, allowing you to taste. You liked cooking, but you adored everything Agatha made. You always told her that her food was better because it was made with love. She called you a sap. You absolutely were, there was no denying it. Agatha Harkness was your moon and stars.

Eventually, the warm tea and dinner lulled you into a sleepy post-meal state, and you curled up further against Agatha, who welcomed the press of your body against hers. You closed your eyes, feeling her soft sweater against your cheek and the thrum of her heart underneath. “I love you,” you said, barely above a whisper. Agatha brought her hand up to hold your face against her chest, leaning down to give you a kiss.

“I love you too, sweetheart. So much.”

Finally, all the stress of your day began to pour out, and tears began to fall. They slid down your face and soaked into Agatha’s sweater. You shook with tiny, tired sobs, and Agatha smoothed her thumb over your cheek, catching your tears as they fell.

“Aw, my love. It’s alright. I’ve got you.” Agatha Harkness, the most powerful witch of recent history, was holding you as you cried out your frustrations about a stupid day at work. You, a regular-by-comparison eclectic witch with a regular job, had captured the heart of a veritable force of nature. You were so endlessly lucky to have her. You told her so.

“No, my love. I’m the lucky one. I’ve got the most gentle, talented, compassionate witch by my side. I would do anything for you. You’re my whole heart.”

You pressed your face harder against her chest, moving so your legs were across her lap. Agatha welcomed the feeling, looping her other arm over your legs and tracing circles and what you faintly recognized as protective runes on the fabric of your pants.

Eventually, your tears subsided. Agatha never let up on her hold, the gentle pressure of her body against yours and her arms around you keeping you safe and sound. She put a finger under your chin to tilt your head up. “Better?”

You nodded. You felt lighter than you had all day. “Can we go upstairs now? I’m tired.” As if to prove your point, you yawned heartily.

“Of course, my love,” Agatha said. As you moved to slide off her lap, she instead tightened her hold on your body. You barely had time to open your mouth to ask her why when she scooped you up, one hand around your back and the other under your legs. You shrieked, wrapping your arms around her neck and laughing at her antics. Agatha squeezed you close, bending her face down to yours, before carrying you back upstairs to your bedroom.

She tossed you onto the bed with enough force that you bounced, causing you to laugh again. The sound delighted her.

Agatha was completely in love with you. This wasn’t the early impulsive love of teenagers or new lovers; no, this was a bone-deep understanding that she was entirely yours, and you were entirely hers. She had never been one for vulnerability or emotions, and she still wasn’t when it came to other people, but you she kept nestled close to her heart, on the inside of all the walls she kept around herself. She lived for you, lived for holding you and loving you and tending to your every need. Soaking up your love just the same. Agatha had done a lot of things in her life, both good and very bad, and this, getting to be with you, being forever committed to you and having you forever committed to her in turn, was the greatest cosmic reward she could fathom.

Lost in thought, Agatha stared at you, flopped back on the bed, still in your work clothes. You propped yourself up on your elbows, giving her an inquisitive look. “Earth to Agatha,” you singsonged.

Agatha promptly pounced on you on the bed. “I’m admiring my love. Admiring every single thing about you. Listing them takes a while, honey. There are lots of things to love.”

You swatted her arm. “Please.”

Agatha kissed your nose, then clambered back off the bed, turning to your wardrobe and picking out two pairs of pajamas, tossing them at your head. You were surprised by the first pair, which hit you squarely in the face, but managed to catch the second pair. Who would’ve thought that the big, bad Agatha Harkness would pick out matching pajamas?

Before you could return the favor and pelt her with the clothing, Agatha seized your wrists and pulled you off the bed and into your bathroom, where she snapped her fingers and a luxurious bubble bath was waiting for you. You almost moaned at the sight, and Agatha smirked at you.

“Pervert,” you said. She grinned and winked. Before you knew it, you were both naked, your clothes nicely folded on the edge of the bathroom counter. You stopped to look at Agatha, to just drink her in. You couldn’t imagine a more beautiful thing if you tried for the rest of your life. Agatha caught you staring.

“Now who’s a pervert?”

“Still you,” you said, brushing past her to get into the tub. She rewarded you with a smack to your bare ass, causing you to jump. You whirled around to admonish her and were met with her perfectly mischievous cackle. “You’re naughty,” you said, eyes fixed on her as you lowered yourself into the water.

“Mm, you know me,” Agatha teased, “insatiable.”

The mood was gone as quickly as it had come, the both of you succumbing to the deep relaxation of the warm water of the bath and the press of each other’s bodies, Agatha’s behind yours.

“I miss you when you’re at work,” she told you, resting her chin on your shoulder. You could’ve melted.

“I know my love, but it gives me something to do. I like it. Plus, you have time for your activities too.”

“Well, I’m glad my sweetheart has hobbies. That’s very important. I don’t like when they stress you out, though.”

You heaved a sigh. “Everything has its challenges.”

“That’s true. And I’m always here to make them better.”

“And you’re so good at it,” you tell her, leaning backward to kiss her sweet soft lips. She allows it for a moment before returning to her task. She takes the soap you love so much and lathers it in her hands, spreading it across your back and using it to massage your tired muscles. She works her way from your neck and shoulders down, then down both arms. Your head lolls back on her shoulder as she brings your hand above the water, fingers softly kneading your palms, working over every tendon.

“You’re so good to me,” you tell her, barely at a whisper.

Agatha doesn’t say anything, and you know she’s taken the compliment to heart. You’ve made it your mission to make her absolutely convinced of her own worth. It’s an uphill battle; before you, no one in her life had loved her for her, only for what she could do. But you’ll gladly spend every single day telling her. Over and over again.

Agatha hums, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder above the water. “Come on, my love. We’re going to be prunes.” She stands up behind you and helps you to your feet, wrapping you in a soft towel. You turn to kiss her, and she obliges happily.

You shuffle out to your bedroom and change into your pajamas, a purple set that matches Agatha’s. She’s not far behind you, and once you’re both dressed she motions for you to sit in front of her.

“Braid?”

“Sure,” you say, settling on the bed with your legs crossed. Agatha’s centuries of life have made her uncommonly good at doing hair; she’s often had to make do with plain clothes, but her hair has always been a thing she can use to express herself. Now, it translates into her caring for both of your hair, and taking great pride in doing this for you as often as she can. Her nimble fingers dance through your hair, gently smoothing any tangles she comes across, and before you know it she’s tying it off at the end. She pulls you back into her, pressing her mouth to the top of your head like she’s going to kiss you. Instead she just stays, inhaling the smell of your hair. Her arms loosen eventually, and she lets you move over so you’re not laying directly on top of her anymore.

You slide over so you’re laying on your side of the bed, keeping your legs tangled with hers. Agatha stays sitting up against the headboard, looking down at you with unrestrained fondness. You can’t believe your luck, being loved by the most powerful being in history. Having just as much of a claim to her as she has to you. You’re sure you have stars in your eyes right now, and you can see that she does too.

As if she can read your thoughts, Agatha says, “I love you so much.”

“Even when I’m being a baby about stupid work things?”

“It’s not stupid,” she says. “If it’s upsetting you, it’s not stupid.”

“You’re my favorite,” you tell her, draping an arm over her hips and tracing the soft skin between her shirt and her shorts.

Agatha smiles. “Good, because you’re my favorite too. My little precious baby, to love forever.” She gets under the covers with you, laying her head on her pillow so she’s on your level. She pulls you in so that your head is resting on her chest, feeling the gentle thump of her heart and the movement of her breathing.

“My Aggie.” Agatha hums at that. It’s one of her favorite things to hear.

“My heart,” she murmurs. You feel the rumble of her voice as she speaks. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

You try to reply, but you’re too far into sleep to form the words. Curled up against the love of your life, you sleep safe and sound.

____________________________________________

I hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you have any requests.

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*if you'd like to be added to the taglist for Agatha x Reader, reply to this fic!

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minimomoe · 3 days ago

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Fever n Frosting

here's a little sneak peak of something in my wips... Toji centered, ofc. fluff and whatnot

“Don’t look at it.”

“I don’t even know what I’m looking at.”

“God, it’s ugly, that’s why,” you cried out.

It was a new week, new day. You have since gone back to work in good health. Your subordinates had left a plethora of messages and emails the days you were out, wishing for a speedy recovery as you have never missed a day of work since… well ever. The day after you packed your own lunch, smiling fondly at yourself at the nikujaga in your thermal cup that Toji had cooked. You loved it so much that you tried your hand in the kitchen. Baking, to be exact. You thought that it would be easier and wanted to surprise Toji the next time you saw him. You were horribly humbled by the deceptively easy food blog.

Toji stared at the cake on the countertop, and then stared some more. It was uneven for one, the left side much lower than the right. You put icing on it before it completely cooled and the pink sugar dripped down onto the table, exposing the yellow cake that laid beneath. Toji wasn’t sure how exactly he could tell, but it looked dense.

“You don’t have to eat it—“

“I’m eating it,” Toji cut you off. You gave him a look of horror.

“I didn’t even ask you if you liked sweets! Spare me the embarrassment,” you squealed.

“Nah, you made it for me. Might as well give it a taste,” he said.

Toji ignored your pleas and rummaged through your cabinets for a plate and fork. He cut a hefty slice and held up the fork for you to taste first, which you profusely shook your head at. He then shrugged and shoved the fork in his mouth. Toji was quiet as he ate, only looking at you with little reaction. You held your breath as you waited for his verdict.

“Are you sure you were trying to make a cake?”

“Oh kill me now.” You threw your head in your hands. “Is it really that bad?”

Once again Toji held the fork up for you, gently nudging it on your lips. You opened your mouth, suddenly more embarrassed at the fact that he was feeding you than the failed baking experiment. He stared at your mouth while you stared at his face, noticing how his mouth slightly parted when he slipped the cake behind your teeth. His eyes flicked up to yours and you found it hard to chew.

“Speak, woman.”

It was a dry, crumbly mess that wasn’t even sweet. Your eyebrows then flew up in realization for the odd taste. Once again, you wished the floor would open up and swallow you.

“I forgot sugar,” you groaned. You groaned again, a long and exasperated one, resting your head on the countertop in hopes of expelling your failures. Unexpectedly, laughter fell onto your ears. You peeled off of the surface to gape at Toji and he was laughing, a genuine one, not the half chuckled he usually handed out that brought color to his face. It was a beautiful sight to bear that lifted your spirits a bit.

“It’s been a while since anybody made me something,” Toji said softly after he was done. The look on his face stirred something in you. Ruddy blush painted over his cheeks and the crows feet around his eyes deepened. “It’s not the best but trust me, I’ve eaten worse.”

“I’m not too sure if that's a compliment. It certainly doesn’t make me feel any better.”

What a lie. His words warmed your face. You shoved the wretched butterflies that wanted to dance in your stomach down by scooping icing up with your finger and eating it.

“This doesn’t taste bad.”

“Let me have some more,” Toji said, licking the remaining off of your finger. His hand wrapped around your waist and your wrist as he stood behind you, and your jaw tightened as you felt his tongue pad moved on your skin. “You’re right. I bet it’s store bought.”

“Hush you,” you nervously giggled. He remained standing behind you, his body caging you to the countertop, eating his slice over your shoulder even when you told him you wouldn’t take it personally if he heaped the whole thing in the trash. He offered you bites every so often, and at the very last bite you accepted it. It was just as tasteless as the first, but when he cupped your chin to face him so he could kiss you, it was as sweet as could be.

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 2 days ago

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Closed Position: Week 6 (Argentine Tango)

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)

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)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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😅

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

@darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions

@myloveistoolittle @for-a-longlongtime @copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter

@burntheedges @stevie75 @bunniboo0015 @quicax3 @jackie923

@sherala007 @pastelnap @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @jessthebaker @rebel-held

@gwendibleywrites @senorabond @annalovesflorida @sandaltoesocks @katw474

@txlady37 @inkmonster21 @sunnytuliptime @jeewrites @fifitheragertot

@pasc4lfuzz @toomanystoriessolittletime @tintinn16 @lizzie-cakes @insomniacdreammerbb

@peepawispunk @pedrostories @dieterbravobrainrotclub

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo #dancing dieter #sober dieter #soft dieter #cat dad dieter #plant dad dieter #slow burn #closed position series

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atleastpleasetelephone · 1 day ago

Note

You are my absolute favorite Elvis writer. I have a request...😏🙏🏻. Could you doooo smut with either 1964 E ike Frankie and Johnny ...or bde.. I'm torn between the two. Can you doooo like the reader gets really mad at Elvis for some reason and she tries to dominate him but he puts her in her place?

Hot 'n' Cold

A/N: Thank you so much anon, that's so sweet! I went for 1964 E as I feel he doesn't get quite so much love on here. This turned out a little... mean? Perhaps the closest to a yandere Elvis I have ever written (but still not that close!)

Pairing: 1964!Elvis x reader

Word count: 1.6K

TWs: Slapping (reader slaps E), infidelity, rough sex, possessive kink, breeding kink, reader cries, mood swings, p in v sex.

“Don’t be silly, baby. I have to kiss her. It’s in the script.”

Elvis has just returned from filming Viva Las Vegas and he’s already a little frustrated with your lack of enthusiastic welcome home. He knew you’d be annoyed with all the stories in the papers, but he wasn’t expecting to be ambushed with questions the minute he walked through the door. He’s trying to play it cool though, hands thrust in his pockets, a neutral expression on his face.

You draw yourself up to your full height (all five foot two of it) and shake your head determinedly.

“It’s not just kissing, El, and you know it.”

“Baby. Come on,” he wheedles, closing the distance between you and putting his hand on your cheek. This sort of thing usually does the trick when you’ve heard something about some other woman.

You push him away, angrily. “No. You can’t charm your way out of this one, Mr Presley.”

He sighs loudly, letting his hand fall back down next to his hip. “Whaddya want from me, then?”

He’s basically pouting at you now, and you don’t think that’s fair. He doesn’t get to pout, when he’s the one who’s been fooling around. You’ve seen the papers, you know the story, but this time it seems more serious than usual. What do you want from him? Marriage, commitment, babies… the whole fairytale. But right now? Right now you want to get even.

“I want you to learn your lesson.”

Elvis cocks an eyebrow. “What lesson, honey?” You’ve never spoken to him like this before and he’s not sure he likes it.

You huff now. “That you can’t mess around with other girls, El.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve told you, I’m not messing…”

You stare at him, angrily, trying to think of the sorts of things he usually says to you and how you can turn them back on him. But you’re too worked up, so you can’t think of anything other than slapping him across the face.

“Ow!”

He stares back at you in complete disbelief, his hand moving to rub his stinging cheek. You’ve definitely never done that before and he’s sure he doesn’t like it.

“You deserved that!”

You kind of enjoyed slapping him, the rush of adrenalin through your body and the look on his face afterwards… In fact you enjoyed it so much you’re about to do it again, but he anticipates it, grabbing your wrist roughly.

“Uh-uh, no you don’t.”

You try to wriggle out of his grasp but it just gets firmer and he catches your other hand now too, since it’s flying around dangerously close to his face in a way he doesn’t care for at all.

“Elvis!” You just about shriek, as he spins you around and walks you backwards until you collide with the wall.

“Shush.”

He’s never known you to be like this, but then he’s never had a relationship go quite so public. He certainly didn’t want it all over the papers, it was embarrassing for God’s sake and he’d told Ann as much. But you can’t slap him. Whatever he might’ve done.

He stands, pressing you against the wall with his body, holding your hands out to either side of your head for just a moment. Your head swims, wondering what he’s going to do next, your body reacting embarrassingly quickly to him being so close and so dominant. You’re supposed to be pissed with him but your panties are already soaked. His lips collide with yours in a bruising kiss and you can’t help yourself, moaning into his mouth. His hand is under your dress and pulling down your panties and then you hear him undoing his belt. He grabs your leg and forces it up as high as it will go (which is pretty high, you used to be a gymnast), stopping kissing you to watch your reaction as he thrusts inside you in one quick movement. Your eyes roll back in your head and you groan.

“Whose pussy is this?” He growls, lips and teeth finding the skin below your ear.

“Y-yours, El…” you moan.

He’s let your wrists go since you’re impaled on his dick now, trapped between him and the wall, and your fingers find the hair on the back of his head and knit themselves into it.

“Good.”

He starts to move, short little thrusts, trying to drive himself somehow even deeper inside you. You whimper, fingertips pressing into his scalp, feeling almost uncomfortably full.

“I decide when I want it,” he continues, his voice low and dangerous. “You make sure it’s always ready for me. Y’hear?”

His eyes are staring into yours now and it’s all you can do to nod and tell him yes. He starts to thrust a little more now, drawing out slowly and then slamming back into you full force. Your body rocks and you cry out.

“No tellin’ me who I can see and who I can’t.”

You look down at him through tear-filled eyes as he keeps up the torturous rhythm.

“I’m Elvis Fucking Presley and I’ll fuck whoever I want.”

You’re still whimpering, so he stops moving, grabbing your cheeks with one hand and squeezing them, forcing you to look at him. A tear runs down your face.

“Did you fucking hear me?”

“Y-yes. Yes. I’m sorry. I sh-shouldn’t expect you to j-just want one girl.”

He lets go of your face, suddenly seeing the tears there and gently wiping them away with his thumb.

“Good girl,” he says, softly, picking up a much gentler pace now. “Takin’ me so well.”

You try to steady your breathing but you feel all over the place, he’s being so gentle now it makes you want to cry more, somehow.

“I love this pussy, baby,” he murmurs, sensually. “It’s so good to me.”

You still can’t speak so you just sniff in response. He starts to kiss your neck, rolling his hips into you in a way he knows is guaranteed to make you cum. Your sniffs turn to soft moans.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?”

“Mmmm. Yes.” You bite your lip, trying to control the tears. His mood swings can be so difficult to deal with.

You can feel the edges of your orgasm as he keeps rolling into you, his heavy breath hot on your ear, little moans falling from his lips as he feels your walls start to flutter in anticipation.

“C’mon baby. You can do it.”

The words of encouragement push you over the edge and you squeeze him, your orgasm ripping through your body and making you moan. He moans too, feeling you and hearing you, and he knows it won’t take much for him now either. He starts to pick up the pace, quick thrusts that slam your body into the wall repeatedly.

“You want me to make ya a mama?” He pants.

Your eyes go wide like saucers and you nod quickly. “Yes, y-yes please.”

“I’m gonna fill ya up… make ya mine…”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. He’s never spoken to you like this, he always pulls out and cums somewhere else, so worried about accidentally getting you pregnant, so sure about it not being the right time for a baby yet.

“Please… please El…” you can’t believe you’re begging him right now, when you’ve already cum, but you want a baby so much.

“Can’t wait ta see ya growing that baby inside ya…” he continues, thrusting even faster. “Knowing yer gonna be mine forever…”

“Yes. Yes. Fuck, yes.” It’s like his words alone are pushing you to another orgasm.

“That what you want?”

“More than anything, El.”

There’s a wicked glint in his eye as he pushes your leg somehow even higher and hits somewhere deep inside you. You cry out in ecstasy and another orgasm hits you, almost as strong as the first, and you find yourself hanging on to him desperately as your legs turn to jelly and he pounds you through it.

“Fuck!”

He cries out, shooting his release into you, your walls squeezing it out of him for what seems like minutes. When he’s finally done he staggers backwards and pulls you with him.

“Lie down on your back and put your feet up in the air.”

You stumble over to the bed and do as you’re told, your brain foggy and confused and unable to fathom why you’re doing what you’re doing. Eventually you ask.

“What’s this for, El?”

He’s lying next to you, holding your hand kind of sweetly.

“It’s the best thing to do to make it take.”

You look at him, baffled.

“To make a baby, honey.”

Your eyes go wide again. “You meant it?”

“Of course I meant it, honey. Imagine a little Presley runnin’ around the place. Can’t think of anything better.”

“So… you… are we gonna get married?”

He nods. “When the time is right. You’ll see. For now you just concentrate on eating right and growing that little baby inside you. And if this one doesn’t take, there’s plenty more chances to practice…”

You smile and let him kiss you, enjoying the feeling of his lips against yours, but you can’t help wondering when exactly the time will be right. As you curl up in bed with him later that night, and he rubs your belly and tells you he can’t wait for it to be full, you wonder if this will mean he’ll stop wanting to be with other girls. Surely if you’re married and you give him the baby you both want so much, he’ll be happy? And surely you will too?

***

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfic #elvis presely smut #elvis imagine #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis x you

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darlingshane · 2 days ago

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Let's pretend it's 1996

Duncan Carmello x F!Reader

Summary: You've always wondered how things would have turned out between you and Duncan if you didn’t break up. It takes 10 years for you to see him again at your High School reunion. This night brings a lot of bittersweet moments between you and him, and you can't help but wonder if after all this time you could make this work again.

CW: fluff, crack, light angst, regrets, memories, exes, high school reunion, drinking, singing, kissing.

Word Count: 3,8k

A/N: This fic is set in 2006, the year the show was released. Duncan never dated Nicole, instead he was with reader. Also, I'm not a lyricist so forgive my cheesy ass song that I wrote for Duncan, but I know this is something he'd write.

— Links: AO3 // Masterlist

After sitting down at the table, you start bobbing your head to the sound of Car Fire, the band playing live, led by none other than Duncan Carmello—your ex. They've taken the stage to kick off the party, while the stragglers keep arriving.

Your friend Pam has left you alone momentarily to procure a couple of drinks. In that time, you've found yourself caught in a web of memories about your Duncan that trace all the way back to high school. It's in this very same gym you're in where you cheered for him from the bleachers when he played basketball. The very same place where you dance together during prom, and you couldn't imagine life with anyone other than him. And now it hosts your 10 Year High School reunion. You promised yourself that you'd never attend any of these cheesy events, but Pam convinced you to come along. She’s in the organization committee, and she was very adamant on you being here tonight.

Pam sets your glass of wine on the table right in front of you, and gets close to your ear to say something over the music playing, “you're staring.”

“What?” you slowly pick up your glass and bring it up to your lips.

“Tell me that you're not still pinning for that asshole.”

“I am not pinning,” you scoff and take another sip to swallow the lie. “I’m remembering. Remembering is not pinning.”

“Tell that to your face.”

You've always wondered how things would have turned out between you and Duncan if you didn’t break up. You were high school sweethearts, the ones that every thought they'd be together forever. But fate had different plans. You wanted to become a journalist, had your mind set on going to college on the other side of the country, and that put a strain on your relationship. Distance was not kind, and a year later there was no more you and Duncan. The last time you saw him was that summer, when you came back and everything went to hell. You haven't seen him in person since. You’ve seen him in pictures that your old classmates have on Facebook, but you never thought of reaching out, despite him being on your mind more often than not.

All the relationships you had after Duncan didn't work out, and it was solely on you. You could never bring yourself to love anyone when he was still a constant presence in your heart and mind. It’s something that you probably never got over, which is kind of pathetic considering he was the one who couldn’t overcome his issues about your long distance relationship. You should hate him, but you never did. You never could. All his concerns were valid, but you were too focused on getting your degree and traveling all over, something you’ve dreamed of since before you met him. And he felt like he wasn’t part of that. He had his life here and wasn’t willing to consider moving away, even if it was just for trying. The pressure was on you to make it work, and it made you feel like a failure for not doing your best to fix the situation. That’s why he was an asshole. He was just a kid, people would say… but so were you. There was too much you had planned for your future to throw away for him. He could've met you halfway, but because he was so damn stubborn that it all ended in a bitter note that left an aftertaste in your throat for years to last. This is mainly the reason you didn't want to come here today. You know it'd be hard to ignore everything you've put in boxes in the farthest corners of your mind. Now, the dust has cleared, lids are open, and you can't bring yourself to close them again.

This evening, he's singing all the songs he wrote in high school, which you remember every lyric to. You're the sole owner of two copies of the one and only album they ever recorded. One of those he gave to you, it came with a special dedication at the back. And a second one you bought to support the band. They're both in an old box labeled ‘Don't open’ that contains everything that you collected from that past relationship and that you've always been unable to get rid of that sits in the back of your closet.

You try to think about all the horrible things he said to you the last time you talked face to face in an attempt to put him out of your mind; but to be honest, it felt like such a surreal conversation you're not sure if it happened or not. You're not the one to hold grudges and yes, he was just a kid, who had just turned 19, and it'll be really petty of you to hold onto that forever.

As the short performance comes to an end, Pam leaves again to set up the next activity at the stage. Music starts playing from a playlist now as you wander around to pick up some appetizers from the buffet table to stuff your face with. Then you meet your colleagues from the school paper that are all gathered at the bar. You have a couple of drinks and a few laughs while catching up with them and everything that's going on with their lives.

Your social battery starts draining as your bladder keeps filling quickly. When you come out of the bathroom, you make a stop in the hallway to study the wall of memories of the class of 96 that holds a lot of moments frozen in pictures that you had forgotten. School events, trips, different clubs, yearbook portraits and personal pics of different groups of friends shine anew as if they were taken yesterday. They're all labeled by year, and the walk down memory lane ends with a graduation picture of the whole class. Your eyes travel back to a collection of snapshots dedicated to prom. There's one of Duncan where he's smiling proudly in his messed up tux after being crowned prom king. Another one of the two of you where he has put his crown on your head to share the win. He later on bought you a tiara, saying you were his only queen. Your heart sinks when you see a more intimate pic of you slowly dancing in his arms. You still remember what song was playing, how he smelled, how his hands caressed the exposed skin at your back. It seems to come alive for a second when you hear his voice behind you…

“I still think you should have been crowned that night.”

“I was a nerd. Haven't you heard? Nerds don't get to be prom royalty,” you say after swallowing the knot in your throat. You don't look back, you can't face him yet. Not this close.

“That's not true. Look at you, you were by far the most beautiful in that gym.”

“Well, it wasn't a beauty contest, either.” You sigh, staring at the most popular girl in school standing on stage with her crown next to Duncan.

“So, you're not going to turn around?”

“I don't think I can yet.”

“That's cool. Take your time.”

“You sounded good up there. I thought you guys went separate ways.” You fidget with your fingers, unable to move any other part of your body to look at him.

“We did. We just got the band together again.”

“You still got it.”

“You think so?” He still sounds so boyish when he says that.

“Hm-hmm.”

“I was hoping you'd come today.”

“Yeah? Why is that?” you keep your eyes glued to the pictures on the wall.

“Cause I needed to tell you that I didn't mean any of that shit I said when we broke up.”

“Duncan, you don't have to say anything. It's—”

“No. I do have something to say, cause I was a jackass. Thought that you deserved better than me. I knew if we stayed together, I'd hold you back. You were doing what you loved, and I'd have just gotten in the way so… I took the coward's way out. I thought that if you hated me, you'd just move on. Then it was too late when I realized that it was the biggest mistake I've ever made. I need you to know that.”

Listening to him opening that old wound makes your eyes well up, but you manage to reel those in.

“I tried to hate you,” you say. “Never could. Even when it hurt, even when I couldn't move on… I couldn't bring myself to hate you.”

It's then that you finally gather the courage to shift in your heels and face him.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you,” the way his lips curve up at the corners is utterly disarming. “I didn't think you'd talk to me.”

You shrug, “I didn't think so either. But here we are.”

“Here we are,” he echoes. “You look great.”

“You do, too.” And he does. Up close, you can see he's really grown up into his own with his simple dark suit and unbuttoned black shirt. “Look at you. You're wearing a suit, and you've gotten rid of that horrible mullet.”

“Yeah,” he laughs sheepishly, scratching the back of his nape, messing up his shaggy curls. “Would you have a drink with me?”

“Hmm,” you pause and try to decide whether that it's something that you'd like to do right now. “I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Why? Did you come here with anyone?”

“No, I just don't have anything else to say to you.”

“Are you still mad at me?”

You shake your head. “Whatever happened all these years ago is all water under the bridge, Duncan. You said what you wanted to say. I don't think it'd be healthy to sit down and keep rehashing the past.”

“Oh, I get it, you're scared.” He says with a teasing tone.

“I'm not scared.” You scoff, crossing your arms tightly against your stomach.

“No? You look terrified right now, hotshot.”

“I'm not.”

“Are so.”

“I'm not”

“Are so.”

“What, are we in school?” You bring a stop to it.

“Well, we are in a high school.”

You both stare at the other and break into laughter.

Duncan tucks both hands in his pockets and shrugs like he used to, biting his bottom lip with a smile before trying again.

“C'mon, let me buy you a drink for old times.”

“I think drinks are free.”

“Even better.”

“So I'm a cheap date now.”

“Hey, I didn't say anything about a date.” Duncan starts walking backwards, heading to the gym doors. “I'll be at the bar. Come. Don't come. It's up to you.”

You watch him disappear behind the big doors that clank upon closing. The music buzzing behind them temporarily comes to stop, and you hear murmurs in its place. You step closer to see through the window that Pam is taking the stage to inform everyone with mic in hand that games would start soon before letting the music resume. You look to the side to get a glimpse of Duncan taking a seat at the bar. Against your own wishes, your hands push the door open and let your feet zero in on his direction.

His face lights up when he sees you. He raises his glass up to you. “Look who decided to join me. I knew you couldn't resist.”

“Please, don't flatter yourself. I just needed a place to sit,” you say, parking your ass on the free bar stool beside him. “These heels are killing me.”

The waiter comes over, and you order another glass of wine while you watch Duncan go over a booklet left on the bar with the necessary information of all the attendees from the Class of 96.

“Is this true? You live in New York now?” Duncan shows up your page with your bio, and two pics of you side by side, one from your teen years and a recent one you send to Pam to assemble the class book.

“Hm-hmm.”

“And you write for a surfing magazine, huh?”

“Surfing magazine? What are you talking about? It’s called Surfeit. It has nothing to do with surfing.”

“I know,” he scoffs, “I was just messing with you.”

“Were you now?” You squint at him.

“Yeah, I gotta confess I’ve known for a while. I subscribed to that thing a few months ago.”

“Get out of here.”

“No, it’s true. I know you’re one of the founders. I’ve read all your pieces, I particularly liked the one about the invasion of the cum trees. It was fascinating.”

“Yeah? You think that one will put me on the right track for a Pulitzer?” You chuckle before taking a sip from your glass. “So, you’ve been keeping tabs on me.”

“Just recently.” He puts down the booklet and lifts his beer to his lips.

“Just recently? Why would you do that now?”

“Why?” he sighs. “I don’t know, I guess I missed talking to you. I found one of your articles online a few months ago, and it felt like I was hearing your voice when I read it, so I started looking for more, and I found Surfeit and I got most of them in the mail— It’s kinda pathetic, isn’t it?”

You balance your head side to side, measuring which side you lean on. “I think it’s sweet. I like this new side of you.”

“Which side?”

“You’re honest. Well, I suppose you always were, for the most part, but I used to have to pry words out of you when we weren’t talking about music, sports, or video games. I like that you offer them now without me asking, and that you’re capable of reading anything that didn’t come from a Playboy. I don’t think you were our target audience when we started the magazine, but I’ll take it.”

Biting his bottom lip, he looks down for a beat. “Okay, now it’s your turn to share something pathetic you’ve done to level the scales.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I’m pretty sure I’d win, and you’d laugh at me.”

“C’mon, I promise I won’t laugh.”

Clearing your throat, you look down for a beat before confessing.

“You know, I was just thinking earlier, when you were playing on stage, about all the stuff I kept from you in a box and that I still have. All the mixtapes, the Car Fire albums, the tiara you bought me, all the anniversary presents… all the pictures… I’ve hauled them over several states. I took it by accident to London once. I just can't get rid of anything. I never look at what's inside, whatsoever. I don’t need to, but it's always there cause, you know… cause I’m a pathetic loser and I never got over you.”

You feel your face going numb as you finish saying that, and when you look at his eyes, you see that his smile has disappeared too. Is he pitying you? It’s the only thing you can read on his expression right now, and you instantly regret telling him that.

He opens his mouth to talk, but he takes too long to respond. And before he can say anything, you promptly stand up and try to head out the door.

Surfing the crowd, you bump into Pam.

“Hey, I was looking for you. Come on, games are starting. Sit down.”

“I was going to—” You point at the door with your thumb, but she doesn’t hear you. She grabs your arm and takes you to the tables where everyone is gathering.

Your weak protest attempt goes unheard by your friend, who leaves you alone once more to explain the first game on the microphone as someone else starts handing a sheet filled with trivia questions to everyone. They range from school-specific questions to 1996 pop culture. This is the last thing you wanna do right now, but you pick up a pen and start filling your answers without putting too much thought into them.

“Hi—” the high-pitched feedback from the microphone tears your eyes from the paper, and you find Duncan back on stage, strapping a guitar to his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I’m taking the stage again,” he says as the people from the organization committee start asking him to get down, with Pam fuming on the side.

“Actually, I’m not sorry. There’s someone here today and she… she opened her heart to me and I just stood there like an idiot cause I’m not good with words like she is. I… I thought I could say better with a song.”

You lock eyes with him instantly. You can see him swallowing the lump in his throat as he positions his hands on the guitar. He looks down at the strings for a beat before letting his fingers play the first chords. After a moment, his voice joins the melody in a mid-tempo rock ballad…

Your voice knocks down my own pride, All the things you wrote, all the things you shared. Sleepless nights, restless days. Guess I never figured out, How to let go, how to walk out.

Wish I had gone along, But baby, it’s too late now. If I could go back, I’d rewrite our last goodbye Instead of losing you that night.

There’s nothing like a fatal flaw, Caught up in my own fears and lies, I pushed you away, said you weren’t it. You walked away, I stayed right here Watching the years slip by.

Wish I had gone along, But baby, it’s too late now. If I could go back, I’d rewrite our last goodbye Instead of losing you that night.

And just for kicks, let’s pretend it’s 1996, We’re flying high, we’re back in that field The grass holding us up, watching stars collide.

Wish I had gone along…

Please tell me it’s not too late…

I’ll wait for you to say… baby, there’s still a chance.

The gym goes silent when the last chord fades away, and you can’t hear anything over the sound of your beating heart as you study every word sung in his song. You’re aware that all eyes are on you, expecting to see your next move, but you’re paralyzed in your seat.

Someone starts clapping, and the rest of the gym follow suit, breaking the spell you’re in.

You raise up from your chair and head out the door at a fast pace while the party resumes like nothing happened. You make it all the way to the courtyard and when you look back you see him following several yards behind, closely catching up.

Your feet come to a halt by the fountain, and you wait for him to face you.

“You know, you’re a liar,” you utter as he stops in front of you.

“All I said in that song was true.”

“No, you said you weren't good with words. I beg to differ.”

“You liked it?”

“Well, it wasn’t Bohemian Rhapsody, but it was good. It sounded like Oasis in their good years.”

“I mean, no one can beat Bohemian Rhapsody,” he snorts, shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging in true Duncan fashion.

“Did you really mean it? If you could take it back, would you? You think we would’ve made it?”

“I meant every word of it, sweetheart. I never wanted to be with anyone else. I don’t know if we would have made it. I’d like to think that in another universe we did… You said you kept everything and I just choked up cause I did the same thing. I could never let you go, you know?”

“So, we’re just two wallowing assholes that couldn’t pick up the phone in 10 years?”

“Guess we are.”

“What do we do now?” You ask, folding your arms against your stomach.

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“I’m not the same person you remember, Duncan. We can’t just pick it up like nothing happened.”

“I don’t think I am, either. Maybe we could just stay in contact and see where that goes?” He takes out a hand out of his pocket that comes with a cell phone attached to his fingers. “Here, put your number in there.”

“It's funny,” he says as you pick it up from his hand and start typing your number in his contacts.

“What's funny?”

“Us being here, standing on the same spot where I first asked you out.”

You gaze away from the phone for a second. “Right, I didn't notice that. What was it? Homecoming?”

“That's right.”

When you're done saving your number, you call yourself to have his number registered on your end and give it back with a warning look, “don’t make me regret this.”

“I won’t. I give you my word.” Duncan purposely clutches his fingers softly around your hand when reaching for the phone. He uses his opposite hand to caress the shape of your knuckles.

The familiar touch makes your hair stick out, your breath gets caught in the knot of your throat, wrapped in a layer of regrets and unsaid words. There’s an I love you trying to force its way out, but you don’t let it. You can’t. It’d be ridiculous if you did. Instead, you step closer and cup his face. He lets out a sigh, preparing for what’s coming as your face shortens the distance. The same magnetic pull that brought you to him the first time over ten years ago takes hold of you as you capture the warmth of his lips in a tender kiss. His hands, driven by that same force, smoothly travel to your waist to hold you closer against him. You sway with the gentle breeze as you allow your lips to move with his to the sweet rhythm of that song that still lingers in the way his tongue delves past your lips. As you're drawn into the depth of his mouth, you curl your arms around his neck in a tight lock as one of your hands slides into the back of his hair. He moans in your mouth as a reaction to your fingers massaging his scalp. It’s easy to get lost in that moment and forget how to breathe as your lips ache for more, for all those missed years of kisses, you suddenly feel fused with him making up for all that lost time.

You’re not sure who pulls back first, perhaps it’s both.

He’s just as breathless as you are when your lips part and your foreheads meet instead.

“Wow,” he says under a shallow breath.

“Yeah, wow,” your lips draw a smile.

“Do you wanna go back inside?”

You shake your head. “I like it here.”

— Credits: beautiful divider by @firefly-graphics

#jon bernthal #duncan carmello x reader #the class #duncan carmello #jon bernthal fanfiction #the class fanfiction #darlingwrites #bernthirst tv tribute #fluff #fanfiction

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carmyberzattosjournal · 10 hours ago

Text

S2 Entry 2: Soothe the Goosebumps

Image credit: @neverscreens

Summary: Carmy’s girlfriend (who he calls Darling) soothes him down from an impending panic attack with apple cubes. (1346 Words) FLUFF.

Warnings: Swearing, hurt, comfort, fem reader/lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns, finger sucking (light), impending panic attack (panic attack doesn’t happen), praise kink, feeding kink?, subby!Carmy. Mentions of Donna Berzatto.

Notes: Thank you for reading and sharing! This is a work in CB Journals Season 2 and will be tagged with #cb journals s2.

Sideblog for commentary and social stuff: @m-z-shoroi

Prompt: String Lights

“Do you not decorate for Christmas?” she asked. “Not even string lights or a mini tree?”

No. Fuck Christmas.

The silence, and the subsequent recoil evident on her face when I looked up from the apple I was dicing, is what told me I’d said that aloud. My stomach flipped. Hands abruptly turned cold for some reason. Heat flooded into my face.

I can’t even begin to explain to you the biblical level of shit I was in that week. That whole month, honestly. The review didn’t go well—we weren’t given our star, which meant that not only did all my bullshit that I pulled in the restaurant after having that mental fucking breakdown after the walk-in incident severely strain all my interpersonal relationships, it also did fuck all to give us any sort of results. If we’d gotten the star, then maybe, maybe, it would’ve stung just a little less. The wounds haven’t gone away—the repeated flare-ups of fighting between Sugar, Richie, Syd, and me are evidence of that—but the star would’ve been salve on the cuts. Maybe taken away some of the burn. No, it just redoubled everyone’s rage at me (including my own. I was getting dangerously close to hating myself more than I hate the fucking Devil at this point). So, the burst of fighting at the top of November turned into all-out war for the rest of the month. We’d found something of a balance before—minus the flare-ups—where I’d do a new menu every month using seasonal ingredients. I’d be mindful of what the kitchen staff could do, Syd and I would actually properly collaborate on them, so she didn’t feel voiceless (even if working with another person drove me fucking insane sometimes), and Richie and I would, generally, as much as we both could corral our familial trauma, try to stay out of each other’s way. Sometimes even get along a bit.

“Carmy?”

Now? Now I lost all fucking control of my restaurant. Syd and I were battling over the menu because even when accounting for her notes, she wanted to scrap whatever I did. Richie was so far out of my grasp that Sugar maintained a demilitarized zone between us, acting as the Secretary of State—or I don’t know, a fucking messenger pigeon—bringing things back and forth, all while trying not to (and failing on multiple occasions) explode at either of us for our bullshit. And it was bullshit. We’re fucking adults, I keep trying to act like a fucking adult and get a handle on myself so this doesn’t fucking happen again—I’m in therapy, for fuck’s sake!—and yet Richie and Syd insist on being fucking children about it.

In retrospect, I don’t blame Syd. If your coworker spiraled off the fucking deep end, and all you got out of that was the trauma of surviving that spiral, would you even want to fucking look at them again? She worked her ass off to make The Bear what it is, she put stock in her own identity as a chef, and wants, more than anything, to be able to take pride in her work.

I said I wouldn’t stand by and let her do to herself what I did to me, right?

Am I not her Devil?

So here we are, December three days away, still without a fucking menu.

“Baby? Sweetheart? Hey.”

Shit. Shit. Fuck. I dropped the knife onto the cutting board. “S-sorry. Sorry, I-I should explain—”

“I just wasn’t expecting such a strong reaction.” She held her hands up, palms out towards me. “It’s okay. It just caught me by surprise is all.”

“Christmas-Christmas is fucking traumatizing.” Why did it come out like a question? It’s a fact. It was fucking traumatizing. I closed my eyes, trying to retreat to the quiet dark, where it’s stable, where it’s safe. “My-my mom, she would, uh, she would do this-this big feast. Seven Fishes... And it was-it was always such a fucking disaster. And-and she would always explode at the tiniest thing. I-I hate fucking Christmas and New Years a-a-and-and fucking birthdays. Fuck birthdays.”

Something burned in my chest. A deep sort of fiery sting that took me two heartbeats to recognize as stomach acid bubbling into my esophagus. I grasped at the pain as if I could somehow get ahold of it and remove it from me, could toss it away like a wet paper towel, but all I found was the front of my apron.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay.” Oh no, Darling sounded worried. I fucking hate when I worry her. I pried my eyes open and found her expression contorted in concern, eyebrows scrunched together, corners of her mouth turned down. “What’s wrong? Pain? Nausea?”

I tried talking, but I couldn’t produce sound past the hot iron burning my insides. Blindly reached for the quart of water and chugged a few sips down. It provided some relief initially, but the flames came right back.

“Hold on.” She rifled around the cabinet above my head and pried off the lid of the baking soda container. Put two pinches in the quart. Swirled it. “It’ll taste weird, but it should help.”

Metallic. Metallic, bitter, kind of salty? Like I licked a dirty penny or something. Weird doesn’t sum it up, it’s fucking disgusting. She rubbed up and down my sternum as I gulped this vile concoction down.

“It’s a base, it’ll help neutralize the acid,” she explained. “Just take little sips until the burning stops.” I’m sure she knew I understood the logic, but I appreciated her talking to me anyway. It was comforting. Something to focus on. Something to drown out the memories of ma’s yelling bubbling away in the back of my head.

Goosebumps exploded on my arms when I took another gulp of the baking soda water. It just kept getting worse. Now the weird taste was lingering on my tongue well after the water was gone, but my chest still burned like a brand was on it. Darling rubbed her hands up and down my forearm, trying to soothe the goosebumps away.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

I responded too slowly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Not even giving me this horrible shit; it was helping the heartburn.

“No, about the whole…” she gestured in a wide circle. Ah. About Christmas and shit. Got it. “It’s gotta be tough. With. How much those things are engrained in society and all.”

I shrugged a shoulder. Grimaced and got another wave of chills on the next sip of baking soda water. She picked up an apple cube and pressed it to my lips. It wasn’t meant to be an intimate gesture—I’m getting better at reading her face and knowing what the intention behind anything she does is—but something deep in my core tightened and warmed when she fed me the morsel of apple, when the tip of her finger rested just a second too long on my lips. I must’ve had a certain look on my face because she made the cute little cooing sound that meant she figured something out. Cupped my face with her other hand. Stroked my cheek.

“That better, pretty boy?”

She brought another apple cube to my lips, kept her eyes locked on mine—this piercing gaze halfway between interrogative and fascinated, like she was a cat observing a new toy, trying to figure out how to pounce on it. My navel flooded with heat, dick twitched in my sweats. Half of me wanted to shrink in place, become tiny and insignificant, small enough to fit in her pocket like a pathetic but endearing pet. The other half of me got lost in her eyes, in those shimmering river stones, in the perfect architecture of her eyelashes, as if admiring a fine work in some pretentious fucking museum somewhere. She let me suck the tip of her thumb clean. Dragged it slowly over my tongue.

I nodded. Yes. Yes, it’s better.

The fuck was I even stressing about before?

Tags: @carmenberzattosgf @jess248 @catharticconsolation @persymons @morgthemagpie @glitch0o0 @nox-is-thename @forgechildofheph @leminjelly @fridavacado @lumoslemon @cyarskj1899

#cb journals s2 #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fluff #the bear

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eliotquillon · 3 days ago

Note

WAIT ACTUALLY you don't have to do this prompt unless you want to, but in all in cameron is like "your shark story is good but not that good," he has told her the goddamn shark story, he is gonna win her over with his personality--

bless chase’s cotton socks:

The shark story always works.

It does not work on Cameron.

He tells it to her in a moment of weakness: they have ditched Foreman to go out for post-case solve drinks, just the two of them, and for once it’s Cameron’s idea to sneak off instead of Chase’s. Logically, he knows that dating Cameron is a bad idea—and he would bet money that she isn’t at all in favour of casual sex. There is no reason to tell her the shark story, especially not while she’s giggly off three vodka sodas and sharing a bag of peanuts with him, but it trips out of his mouth anyway while he’s staring at the strand of hair that has come loose from her tight ponytail. It feels like a metaphor: Cameron, so contained and controlled, loosening up around him. It’s an ego boost. It could be a bit more than an ego boost, if Chase ever bothered to examine it more deeply, but something in him balks whenever he gets too close.

Cameron’s verging on tipsy, but Chase is closer to sober—he’s got a better tolerance, and drinks slower; being the son of an alcoholic teaches restraint to the lucky few. He knows he tells it perfectly. He knows he hits all the right notes. And Cameron smiles along, laughs in all the right places, but it feels…just a touch indulgent. She does not lean closer during the part where he punches the shark square in the nose. She does not bat her lashes when he talks about how cold the water was. It isn’t a bad reaction, but it is—underwhelming. Platonic. Friendly.

Worth a shot, Chase thinks miserably, and then wonders why he was trying to get a shot in with Cameron in the first place. He doesn’t like her that way. They only go out for drinks together because Foreman drives him up the wall and it feels wrong to just drink by himself. That’s why it didn’t work, he decides. There was no real intent behind it. He puts Cameron in a cab home, retries the shark story on a girl at the next bar he gets to, and goes home with her an hour later.

“I have a question,” Chase says, three and a bit years later; they’re meant to be going out to a bar later to catch up with Foreman, but from the way Cameron keeps yawning and resting her head pointedly on his shoulder it feels like she’s gunning for a night in. “But you can’t laugh at me.”

“You ruin all my fun,” Cameron complains, shifting her weight closer against him on the couch. “I heard laughter is the best medicine.”

“Allison,” he says pointedly, and she laughs.

“Alright, okay,” she says, “I promise. But only if you call Foreman to cancel.”

Chase, already prepared to do as much, gives her his hand to shake; instead of relinquishing it afterwards, Cameron laces their fingers together and leans back to look at him expectantly. “I’m listening,” she says, and Chase winces.

“Do you remember,” he starts carefully, “when I told you my shark story?”

Cameron opens her mouth, closes it, and blinks innocently up at him. “Of course I do,” she says. She is not smiling, but she has the wide-eyed look that suggests she’s going to explode into a fit of laughter as soon as Chase is out of earshot. “What about it?”

This is the worst part. Chase has to grit his teeth to get the words out. “Why didn’t it…work?”

This time, Cameron’s blink is borne more out of confusion than laughter. “Was it…supposed to?” she asks, echoing his hesitant tone. Chase’s embarrassed silence isn’t a yes, but it sure as hell isn’t a no. Her eyebrows fly up, and she says, mock-chastising, “Robert.”

“I’m just wondering,” he insists, fighting to ignore his burning ears. He is suddenly grateful to his longer hair for covering them. “Pretty much every other woman I told that story to ended up making a move on me afterwards. How come you didn’t?”

Cameron shrugs. She’s smiling now, but not mockingly—it’s fond and soft, a warmer version of the quick grin she shoots him whenever they pass each other in the corridor at work. “Like I told you at the gala two years ago,” she says, “it’s good. But not that good. I think it only works if the recipient already wants to sleep with you. Which I didn’t, back then.” Blunt, but true; Chase accepts the explanation for what it is, and nods.

“But it’s been a while since I heard that story anyway,” Cameron adds. Her smile has turned wicked. “Why don’t you try telling me it again and see where it gets you?”

The shark story always works.

#house md #asks #robert chase #allison cameron #teehehehehehe

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sailforvalinor · 10 months ago

Text

…well, turns out changing to a Jo pfp is fitting in more ways than one.

#yeah turns out I’m going to be having a Jo and Laurie on the Hill moment. hopefully not to such a dramatic degree but #I went out with The Boy yesterday and I was dreading it so much #and it was fine but then at the end he asked if we could make it official that we were dating #and I asked him to give me a little bit of time to think (which he was super sweet about he did literally nothing wrong)#but yeah I just came to the conclusion within ten seconds of leaving the restaurant that it wasn’t going to work. like I felt nothing when #he asked me that question. and I wanted this to work so bad! it makes so much sense on paper but I’m just not feeling it #and I talked to my dad about it and he said that because the part of the brain that processes emotions is not connected to the part that #processes language aren’t connected that people who are married struggle to put into words why they married their spouse #so if I can’t put into words why I don’t want to date this guy it’s perfectly valid #and I suppose he’s right I just feel terrible about it. like how often do you find a guy this courteous and genuinely good? and like I #think maybe part of what’s bothering me was that there was almost no romance to this. like never at any point did he tell me that he even #liked me. it was just ‘hey we’ve hung out a few times now should we say we’re dating?’ and I’m not trying to rag on him he’s probably just #shy but it rang a little like a business proposition to me #but ugh. now I have to call (because I’m not going to do it over text) and break this poor boy’s heart #it’s a really good thing I have the play and my novel to distract me otherwise I’d be a mess #anyway prayers would be appreciated

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polyamorouspunk · 11 months ago

Note

Hug

*hug*

#I’m still really freaked out from work #I have a massive headache from crying all night #but I’m still too upset to get to sleep #I’ve been thinking about checking my DMs because well let’s be honest I’m always thinking about that #but I could just really use the comfort right now #everyone I’ve been talking to has stopped answering me #and I’m still feeling like a caged animal; scared and alone and lashing out #I could use some words of comfort and I’m hoping maybe I can find some there #not only that but I’m feeling empowered #like trying to tell myself you know what life’s too short time to be cringe and start trying those things you’ve been putting off #and also life’s too short to worry that I’m an annoying fan or something #idk #my head is killing me I’m exhausted and emotionally drained I’m tired of crying #blegh 🤘🏻#punk gets mail #personal

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pennjammin · 2 months ago

Text

geeked up.

you fucked around and snuck him an aphrodisiac, so now all you’ve got to do is survive until the effects wear off!

content: smut, established relationships, bondage, edging, overstim, degrading, oral sèx, public sèx, exhibitionism, drüg/alcohol use, afab!reader, gn!reader on nanami, spit kink, masochism

incl pairings: kento, toji, satoru, suguru

word count. 8.3k

soundtrack 🌧️💿: sativa ft. swae lee

COCK THAT TEA / NANAMI.

A cup of hot tea. That's all Nanami had requested.

The lemon stimulant you’d mixed into the drink had made him wrap up his work early, clamoring downstairs, his eyes glassy with desire.

"Darling," he breathes out, staring at the floor, holding the cup in his shaky hand. "Are you busy?”

He’s so polite about it. At first.

“What ever is the matter, Ken?” you question, running your cleaning rag in slow circles over the dining room table, standing on your toes as you stretch across the surface. “I’m trying to clean.”

He nearly growls, eyes shutting and reopening with frustration. His fingers flutter at his side like butterfly wings and he takes a step towards you.

“I need to be inside of you,” he blurts, looking momentarily embarrassed before his face darkens, then he looks up at you with viper eyes.

“Right now?” you fake your surprise, walking around the table to stand in front of him. “But the dining room is so filthy…” You watch as his nostrils flare; he’s clearly taking in your scent.

“You know I would never force you,” he grits out, voice choked. “But also - mmh - p-pretty please?”

His arms come up, either side of you, and he moves to pin your body between himself and the table. He releases the teacup on the table and his fingertips grip onto the surface so harshly that his nails make tiny imperfections in the wood.

“My God, are you feeling alright?” you stall, pressing the back of your hand to his flushed forehead. “You look unwell.”

“I feel unwell, baby,” he says, tone serious and apologetic. “I feel like I might die if I can’t put my cock in you. That is unreasonable.”

Even as he says the words, it’s clear in his eyes that he doesn’t care how irrational it is. He wants to act on his urges so badly.

You rest your hand over the painful lump in his pants. “Is that so?”

“No, please don’t,” he breathes. “D-Don’t wanna lose my control…”

“You won’t,” you purr, slipping his zipper down. “You’re gonna be good and let me take care of you for once, ‘kay?”

His shoulders visibly slump a bit as the pressure from his hard cock is released by his unzipped pants. You take it a step further and dip your fingernails underneath the waistband of his Calvin’s, softly scratching over the blond happy trail.

“No, no,” Nanami’s head falls onto your shoulder, full body shudders coming out of him.

“I’m just trying to help, Ken,” you quip, rolling your eyes, moving to pull your hand out; but in the same beat his large hand clamps around your wrist and shoves it down deeper.

He jerks forward against you, a whine for help coming out of his mouth and landing breathily in your ear canal. You try not to shudder yourself, wanting to maintain the facade that you’re in control.

“Please, just take it out,” he begs.

How could you deny him? Your usually composed, control-taking husband is begging you for something. It breaks your heart as much as it nearly makes you cream your undies.

"Alright," you say calmly, clamping your fist around his shaft, squeezing harshly as you remove it from its barrier.

Nanami whispers gratefully in your ear - over and over - until it fades into moans, because of you sliding the pad of your thumb over his oh-so sensitive cockhead, spreading his precum all over the throbbing skin.

You have his heartbeat in your palm. You feel it racing faster with each stroke of your finger. The organ jerks in response and so does Nanami.

His hips begin to mindly grind back and forth, his torso rubbing yours, hardening your nipples and exposing your arousal.

You let his length slide in and out of your fist, and his hands grip onto your breasts like they can save him from ruin. His hair has fallen down around his head, sweat ruining his gelled style. He looks so desperate.

You'd only wanted to see if the aphrodisiac would remove some of his patience. He's always so kind, slow, gentle. You were writhing to see him lose control, have his way with you, rough you up. You’d hardly expected it to turn him this submissive and needy.

Fwip! Fwip! The sound of your top disappearing makes you gasp. You’d gotten too lost in thought and allowed him to get your shirt off, leaving you in just underwear.

Your thighs turn in on themselves, but they’re no match for his strength. It’s as if you'd let a feral panther out of its cage, his nails clawing at the waistband, threatening to shred it as his hips pick up speed.

On a whim, you release his shaft and put your palm to his tip, running it over the shiny pink skin. Nanami’s neck nearly snaps back. You rotate your palm over the tip and rip! his iron grip accidentally tears your underwear off.

He doesn’t notice, as he maintains his grip on the fabric with his eyes closed. He freezes in place as you violate his sensitive tip and the underside.

“Agh - shit, shit, nonono…” Nanami spits out.

Until finally he’s had enough.

In exactly three movements, he has your spine curved painfully against his torso, hand clasping a handful of your hair and pulling it against his chest, your shredded undies fallen somewhere on the floor. His groans in your ear are wet and raunchy, coming from the depths of his throat.

His cock pushes through your soaking ring of muscle, sliding through the ridges until it rams into your cervix. He has no regard for your pain level, punishing you even as tears brim your eyes. His hand cracks harshly on your asscheek, before scratching the sensitive skin and making you scream.

"My love, you feel so fucking good.” The lewd words leave his lips in an uncharacteristic way.

You want to roll your hips in time with his but he releases your hair and brings his hand around to cup your neck - faltering you as he thrusts deeper, the painfully solid cock violating your walls. If not for your pussy flooding the veiny organ, your entrance would be raw from the harsh stroking and lack of regard for your pleasure.

With a release of your throat, Nanami's hand moves to the back of your head and forces it down against the table, cheek pressed to the wood. You look at the abandoned drink at the other end. Now you’re watching as the cold liquid ripples through the teacup with each rhythmic thrust of your husband splitting you from hole to hole.

“F-Fuck, Ken, take it easy,” you whine, knowing it’s a full fib.

You want him deeper than he already is, cock bottomed out, heavy balls sticking to your clit each time he goes all the way in. Your internal organs feel like they’re being bent out of shape, pressure in your belly a bit painful, but mostly exhilarating.

“I-I can’t, baby,” Nanami grunts from above. “Your pussy has me so out of control.”

You decide to admit, in a sultry moment of regret what you’d done. Your pussy can’t take all the credit for making him this feral, can it? Nanami doesn’t respond much, but his cock begins to take it out on you.

His veins pop from his wrists as he pushes your head further into the wood, cheek squishing in on itself, muffling your sobs.

He moans in response to his new rhythm, grunting your name over and over, mixed with naughty minx, take me, feel good?, mhmm.

He hikes his hips at an upward angle and the new spot he's hitting is foul, causing you to scream so loud the noise reverberates off of the walls.

You put a leg up, knee to the edge of the table for stability. Your arms stretch across the surface and you feel drool trickle out of your mouth - your mind so fucked out that you can't even bring yourself to moan.

"Where's my spouse?" Nanami questions rhetorically, shoving a deep thrust in you while cracking his palm on your stinging asscheek. "Why can't I hear them?"

You swallow, trying to stop some of the drool, attempting to answer him but all that comes out is a guttural cry for mercy.

Nanami pretends not to hear it, and runs his nails along your pretty arched back.

His fingers yank your head in the direction of his old cup, “Be sure to look at what got you into this ordeal, dear. Stimulants in my tea, really?”

Your moans return when you feel the pool of fire deep within your belly, and Nanami feels you fluttering your walls around him in an attempt to fight off the orgasm. But he recognizes your moans all too well, so he drills his hips harder to push it out of you.

"Ken! No!" you cry, trying to hold it off, but just before you release he's spilling his own hot spurts into you.

You feel each rope hit the opening to your cervix and your cunt sends you into the harshest orgasm you've had your entire marriage; your one leg that remained on the floor giving out, leaving you to dangle on the edge of the table.

But Nanami's strokes show no sign of slowing down. You feel the veins in his cock drumming against your slick ridges, and his length remains solid.

“Mm, so much wetter now,” he notes, his cum nearly sticking his balls to to your clit every time he shoves his groin against your ass.

The noise that comes from your cum mixing together as lubricant is so nasty; it makes your toes curl as you lay on your stomach and continue to take the pain.

You’ll spend the rest of the evening begging him for mercy and not receiving it. When you think he’s finally done, he carryies you upstairs, telling you that he’s going to give you a massage to calm your strained legs.

But when you end up on your side as Nanami stuffs you full of kids for the sixth or seventh time, you realize the massage had been part of his plan, and he gives no hint that he’s near finished with you.

KNOTTY BOY / TOJI.

Toji had arrived home from work right on schedule. You'd been in the middle of preparing breakfast for dinner, the kitchen smelling of bacon grease and syrup.

He'd come in and given you a quick kiss, then disappeared to the back of the apartment to shower.

While he was gone, you'd finished cooking, and loaded his plate up with sausage, bacon, and eggs. Then, you plopped a tower of pancakes in the leftover space. This is when you ripped open a packet of honey from the gas station. You'd seen it on the counter one day whilst getting snacks and, you were curious to see if the rumors were true.

You’d felt a twinge of guilt as you drizzled the honey all over his pancakes and then hid your naughty work by covering it with maple syrup. It almost felt like drugging him, but you knew it wasn’t, and the worst that’ll happen is consensual rounds of sex. You’d disposed of the empty wrapper in the trash just in time.

Toji comes back from his shower with damp hair and oily skin, wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts that cling low on his v-line. Your chest heats in response, but you maintain an innocent smile as you pad over to him with his dinner.

He sits down at the kitchen table, ready to dive into your delicious meal with a thankful grunt.

"Not hungry?" he questions, noticing that you remain standing behind him, rubbing some of the tension from his shoulders.

"I had a heavy lunch," you lie. "How was work?"

Toji pokes his fork into a sausage link before bringing it to his mouth, "Hot. Annoying. Lil' bitch Shiu was moaning about his sunburn all day."

You giggle, observing the darker shade on Toji's skin from where he has the privilege of tanning instead of frying in the sun. He's glowing like a cinnamon roll coated in sweet icing, and you want to drag your tongue over his moisturized torso.

"Well, least you're home now," you kiss his cheek. "I missed you. I hate when you have to work such long shifts."

He sighs. "Gotta do what I gotta do, puss. Have ta'make sure you have everything you want."

"That so?" you coo. "There’s something I want right now."

Toji reaches for the cup of orange juice you'd poured for him, thick eyebrow raised, “Spit it out.”

"Have you ever considered letting me tie you up? You know, 'stead of the other way around?" The words are out before you can stop them, and you're immediately writhing in regret when there's silence for several moments.

Toji takes a sip of the juice, and then turns to face you. "Needy brat, you thinkin' about tying me up while I'm tryin'a eat?"

You tap your fingers on his traps, trying to build a shovel to dig yourself out of this hole. "Actually, I've been thinking about it all day," you admit. "I was just worried you might be too tired for… you know."

His fork pokes into the pancake stack. You’re overcome with a sense of urgency. The minute he ingests the honey, the timer begins.

Toji chuckles and tilts his head awkwardly, rolling his neck. "You know I would never let you go to bed without a couple of nuts, ma." He takes a big bite of the cakes. "Didn't expect that, though.”

"O-Only if you want, of course," you throw out quickly, suddenly more nervous.

Toji swallows and turns to wrap an arm around you, pulling you flush against his body as he sticks his fork back into his food. "If you're gonna be in control, ya can't backtrack. Gotta stand on business.”

You swallow, "Well, unlike you, I need your compliance because I can't just throw you around like you weigh nothing."

Toji's body shakes against you as he takes another bite of pancake. You know the effects take a bit to kick in, but you aren't sure how much time you have left now.

"Would like to see you try to throw me around, though,” he says before adding, “do ya even know how to tie a knot, lil’ girl?”

"Of course," you say, offended. "I've watched you plenty of times."

"Usually while you're already on your second orgasm and cockdrunk, but..." he shrugs, "we'll see.”

You part from him, allowing him to finish his dinner as you collect the ropes from the closet. You untangle them as you wait. You're buzzing with excitement, blood pumping through your ears and your cunt, as you can already imagine his large torso being pierced with puffy red marks from the ropes digging into his baby-soft skin.

You're just about ready to drag him away from the kitchen by his ears when Toji finally comes into the room, sucking leftover syrup off of his thumb, eyeballing you.

"Mm, did you do something different to the pancakes, puss?" he questions. "Might be a new favorite of mine."

You smile and shrug. "Nope, don't think so."

He buys it, or if he doesn't, he doesn't press the topic further. Instead his eyes travel over the wooden chair in the center of your bedroom.

“Welp, let the games begin,” he says, holding out his arms as he releases himself to be at your mercy.

Around ten minutes later, his sits with his arms pinned behind his back. His torso is attached to the back of the chair while his ankles are bound to the legs.

“Well done,” Toji grunts, attempting to tug on the ropes and being unsuccessful in loosening the knots. “My lil’ brat does pay attention.”

You lean over him, putting your hands on his shoulders. His cock has definitely hardened by now, sitting pretty in his lap as you’d requested he take his shorts off before being tied up.

You watch as his thighs flex and his cock jerks up, tip glistening under the warm lighting in your bedroom.

“Agh, fuck,” he spits. “Show me what you got, dollface.”

You continue to stand, fingers linked together in front of you, implying you have no intention of touching him. “What do you mean?” you ask innocently.

“Brat, don’t piss me off,” he grunts, a vein in his neck throbbing as he tilts his neck, fighting harder against his restraints now.

You giggle innocently and bring your knee up to the meeting of his thighs, ghosting it over his light brown tip. “You doing okay there?”

His eyes flutter closed, beads of sweat appearing on his brow line just under his hair. “Fuck. Stop doing that shit.”

“Or what?” you taunt, knowing he’s trapped.

“Oh, I’m going to kill you,” he threatens, but he can’t help but let out a delicious grunt when you glide your knee up his wanton shaft - back down again.

“What is it you always call me?” you tap your chin, pretending to think about it. “Needy whore.”

“Fuck you,” he grits, fists balled up behind him. You see his fingers attempting to reach the bottom of the knot but to no avail. He has no way out of this and he knows it. You’re watching the aphrodisiac kick into his system in real time.

His pupils expand when he looks up at you. His cheeks are slightly pink, and his bottom lip is underneath his teeth.

“Okay, okay,” you say, rolling your eyes. You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it slowly past your stomach, then over your chest. You shake your tits in his face, and he leans forward, snapping his teeth, like a shark threatening to take a chomp out of your flesh.

“Quit playing with me, Y/N,” he says sharply. “I’mma fuck you up. Bruise your little uterus so bad.”

“Would love to see you try,” you crack, pulling the fabric off your head and shaking your hair free. You know just how bad your hair turns him on, how much he enjoys nearly ripping it from your scalp as he delivers painful backshots.

He jerks against the chair, causing you to jump a little. You turn around and sit on his lap.

Toji’s entire body stiffens. “God, why is my shit so sensitive?” The sentence comes out breathy, almost whiny. Toji never allows himself to switch, but you feel you may have unlocked the ten percent of him that likes to be submissive.

“What did you do?” he goes on. “You did something to me - fuck.”

And the moment you'd come clean, you were already bouncing deliciously on his cock, watching as he squirmed against his restraints and cussed in your ear.

"You're fuckin' dead," he keeps saying, before giving up and breaking into a pathetic little, "fu-uck. Mmh, yeah, ride me baby. Gonna fill you up."

"No you're not," you say, noting how his cock begins to twitch and using your knees to lift yourself up and slide it out of you, leaving your cunt pulsing with ache.

"What the fuck - get back here," he growls. His arms pull against the ropes, and you fear at any moment they're going to pop.

"This is payback, Toji." You look at your nails and then sit yourself back down, facing him with your cunt touching his cock but not allowing him the pleasure of being inside of it. "All those times you overstimulate me, or edge me.”

You lean forward and kiss him on the nape of his neck. He howls, jerking his cock up against you for even the slightest bit of pleasure.

You're just about to drag your teeth across the prominent vein in his neck when a terrifying shred! sound enters the air.

You sit up straight and stare down at Toji in horror, but his face has twisted into a sinister, knowing smile.

"You fucked up, you know that?" he questions, and before you can scramble off of his lap, his arms are around your body, capturing you against his chest.

The next few seconds are a blur. Before you can blink or breathe, the tip of Toji’s cock feels like it’s inside your intestines, your back against your bedroom door as he fucks you against it.

“A honey packet like I’m some booty call?” Toji gripes, drilling his hips into you so mean, that all you can do is slap your hands on his back for mercy. “‘Bout to turn your pussy inside out, demon brat.”

“Toji! Please,” you cry, trying to spread your legs on either side of his hips to make it feel like he isn’t going so deep, but his cockhead is so slick and fat that it’s threatening to crack you open.

His body being covered in oil is not working to your advantage. Your hands are sliding off of him, until you finally give up and take your hands in his hair, and he increases his speed because of it.

“I oughta chain you to the bed with a vibrator on your clit,” he threatens. “Since you wanna play with me. Fuck. So fucking creamy, ma.” His head falls to stare at your cunt as his cock drills in and out of it, white substance layering on his groin and between your folds.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry,” you whine into his ear, “o-ooh. Shit.”

“‘Sorry baby,’” Toji mocks. “Yeah. ‘M sorry too. Sorry that you ain’t gonna be able to walk for a few days. Hold on tight, brat.”

SHOOT MY STEAM / GETO.

"Baby, can you pass me my bottle?"

The sentence you've been waiting to hear for about thirty minutes now.

You're at the gym with your boyfriend. You've been resting on the bench, watching him do his sets, waiting for him to ask for his water.

Suguru knows you always mix in his electrolyte packets for him, only this time, you'd found a convenient aphrodisiac powder to put inside instead. You wanted to see just how hot and sweaty he could really get with it flowing through his veins while he trained.

Only one issue with that: you’d accidentally forgotten about putting it in there, so you’d taken a fat swig a while back and now you’re paying for it as you sit and watch him.

"C'mon, monk, back on your feet," he says, taking a deep breath after chugging some of his water. He places it next to you and then reaches his hands out to help you stand. "'M gonna lose motivation if you're not up with me."

You swallow thickly and force a smile, before taking his hands and rising back up to follow him to the weights. Your body is tingling, cunt ripe with desire.

You decide to do some lunges to distract yourself while Suguru works on the lat pulldown, and you stare with heat in your chest as his back muscles flex under the cut-off sleeves of his shirt.

You think about your nails sliding over the sweaty skin to incite dangerous growls from your boyfriend, making him fall apart as he pumps you full of dick. Your head spins.

You attempt to shake the thoughts away and continue lunging until he finishes his pulldowns. When he stands, an erection is painfully obvious in his shorts.

He walks over to you, voice low. "Well, I guess this means I'm doing good," he comments, pointing to his new friend, and then gesturing to you. "It's also probably because your legs are looking good, angel. Damn."

You giggle and walk to drop off the weights. "Are you gonna be able to keep working out with... that?" You’re mostly asking for yourself, because if you’re forced to sit here and watch him workout with a boner, you may combust.

Suguru glances at himself in the mirror, rolling his shoulder blades. "It'll go away in a second. It's just all the blood pumping through me."

You blink. Your self control is dwindling but you try to redirect your focus. "'Kay, well I'll be over here starting some squats."

Suguru nods and pulls you in for a sweaty kiss, "Alright, love you."

God, you wish he hadn’t done that. Now everywhere his body touched you feels like a thousand needles. You want to grab him the minute he attempts to pull away, but you’re frozen in place, the fuzzy memory of his sweaty lips on yours making your panties damper.

And the next twenty minutes are history. You watch as Suguru loses more and more of his focus, his painful erection never coming close to dying. He slows down in his workouts, his eyes lingering on you much longer than before. You even watch him blink harshly, attempts running futile at pushing away his feelings. Then at last, he comes to collect you.

Now, you know it's a little unsanitary to be laid out over the sauna bench, Suguru leaning over you as steam and sweat drip from his locks.

You also don't care. The lust in his eyes, the furrow in his brow from where he doesn't understand why he couldn't wait to get home to do this is making your pussy throb around him.

"Fuck me," Suguru’s eyes roll back as he brings one of your slippery legs over his chiseled hip, sides of his cock gliding against your internal ridges. “Feels too fucking good, monk.”

All you can do is whine in response, as the subtle curve in Suguru’s dick causes it to poke the squishy roof of your tunnel. Your arms are trying to hold onto him, but with the steam, the two of you are just sweaty, wet bodies gliding against each other.

His abs rub over your belly and sensitive nipples, and he takes in the way each grind makes you gasp a little harder than before.

"F-fuck, Suguru," you whimper.

"Hah - ngh," he growls in your ear. "Don't say my name like that."

"S-Suguru," you repeat, feeling his nails attempt to dig into your skin before his fingers slide over your wet hips. "Wanna feel your cum."

He shakes his head, slinging water all over your face until you’re envisioning it being his warm semen instead. "N-No, feels too good, don't wanna cum yet."

You continue pushing him. "Cum for me, please?"

"No," Suguru spits, the end coming out breathy as he tries to compose himself.

"Please fill me up," you keep going, knowing that he won't be able to even if he tries.

"Baby," Suguru whines pathetically, but his strokes have noticeably gotten sloppier, needier. "Y-You have to stop."

You shake your head defiantly, before you crash your sweaty lips onto his. You moan against his mouth, taking his bottom lip between your teeth, piercing pressure onto it. His lips part as he continues slipping in and out of you.

Your bodies roll to the side on the sauna bench and continue going at it.

“Can’t get enough,” he mumbles against your mouth. “So wet for me, angel.”

It’s not long before you’re practically shoving him off of you, pussy sore and swollen. But he keeps holding you back onto his cock, making sure you nut on him as many times as he is able to drag it out of you.

Then, after concerns about your time spent in the sauna, you wrap it up - even though Suguru still hasn’t cum himself. But that doesn’t remain the case for long.

You find yourself pressed against the wet shower wall not even five minutes later, only a curtain hiding the two of you from the rest of the people in the bathroom. Suguru keeps his hand clamped over your mouth, whispering in your ear how good girls keep quiet, while making it impossible for you to obey.

And when he finally releases his thick cum all over your asscheek, watching as it instantly washes away under the hot water, he’s sticking it back in just a few seconds later.

Your brain is mushed with ecstasy from the powder, so you hardly notice that you’ve cum on his cock twice already, still ready for more.

GUMMY THROAT / GOJO.

“Want a hit?”

Shoko coughs and turns her wrist to hold her blunt out to you. You sit beside her on the couch and shake your head, holding up the bag in your hand.

“I’m good,” you grin. Inside the bag is edible gummies, which you’ve taken two of, and can already feel your toes stretching.

Shoko nods in understanding and passes it to someone else, leaning back against the couch with her eyelids laying low.

You check your pockets for your other bag, which has libido gummy bears, not edibles. This is the bag you’d handed to Gojo, watching as he’d devoured three obliviously.

“Satoru, you know you shouldn’t have eaten that many,” you’d scolded, trying to play along.

“Relax, my tolerance is higher than yours,” he’d quipped sassily.

But now that Shoko’s party has started to slow down, people disappearing in spurts, others sitting in corners or on the floor because they’re stuck, you and Gojo are having a staring contest - and you know what it means.

His eyes are wide and his fingers are restless. He’s sitting next to Suguru, who’s naively engaged in conversation with a pretty ginger. You’re pretending to ignore Gojo’s clear body language that says he wants to leave so that he can scramble your brains.

You giggle as your head falls on Shoko’s shoulder. Your body feels like it’s lifting off of the couch as the THC begins to flood through your bloodstream. All you can do is grip onto your skirt as if it’ll ground you.

Gojo stands from where he sits and struts over to you, his blue eyes appearing to glow with madness. “Y/N, get up,” he instructs, his voice commanding and unlike him.

“No,” you huff, nuzzling further into Shoko.

“Have it your way.” He reaches down and grabs your wrist, yanking you off of the cushions, and you can distantly hear Shoko laughing as Gojo puts his hand under your thighs and lifts you into his arms.

“Hey-!” you protest as you’re now being hauled princess style, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin with just how harshly he’s holding you.

“It’s way late,” he says. “And you’re high as hell. We need to go.”

“You’re being extra,” you scold, bopping your finger on his nose before letting yourself go limp against him. “Y’sure this is about it being late?”

“No, it isn’t,” he admits. “Watching you sit there and play with your skirt is making me lose my damn mind.”

“But I was hanging out with Shoko,” you pout, and realize he is not taking you towards any exits at all. He’s walking you to the back of the house, near the laundry room. “Gojo, what are you-?”

“I need your throat,” he blurts suddenly, glaring down at you with a compulsory twinkling in his eye. “Happy now? That’s what this is about. Need it so fucking bad.”

You giggle. The air feels crisp and your mind is so free. The room spins and you still feel like you’re floating.

“Okay, but be warned that I have cotton mouth,” you hold up a finger matter-of-factly. “May be a bit dry.”

He reaches the laundry room and pushes the curtain aside. If you were more sober, you’d realize how incredibly risky he’s being, but since you aren’t, you don’t care.

He puts you down in front of the washer, and wraps his fingers around your face, squishing your cheeks and forcing your mouth to open. In the same beat, he tuahs a mean glob of spit in your mouth.

“There,” he whispers. “That should help. Now I need you on your knees.”

He uses his grip on your face to push your head down until your knees collapse and you land on them. He releases you and you look up at him expectantly.

“All this for some head?” you taunt, placing your palms on his thighs. “Not that serious.”

“Yes it is,” he whines, “might die if I can’t shove my cock between those pretty lips.”

He leans down and swipes his thumb across your mouth, flicking your bottom lip and making your eyes flutter. You’re looking at him but not quite seeing him, as the gummies in your system have you spaced out. Your limbs feel like they’re stretching. You dig your nails into Gojo’s pants and he responds with an unearthly growl.

Your face is shadowed immediately, and upon focusing your eyes, you realize there's a fat, peachy cock looming over your face.

You gasp, watching as it comes down and taps you on the nose, fleshy and dripping in precum.

“Satoru-!” is all you can manage to say, as his tip grazes your cheek.

“Open up,” he instructs, and you part your lips slowly, expecting him to shove himself inside but instead he leans forward and sends another drop of saliva down your throat. “Just making sure it’s wet enough.”

“Y- mmh,” you're cut off, because Gojo has rammed the tip of his cock between your lips.

You part your teeth and wrap your tongue on the underside instinctually, eyes fluttering closed as you take in his salty taste.

"Speak up," he grunts, “you were being so bratty a minute ago.”

"Ngh - no," you gargle around his girth, saliva filling your mouth and making it hard to breath, pouring out of the sides of your cheeks and coating his shaft.

"Look at you, can't even take all of it," he taunts, pushing his hips deeper so that the tip begins to push down your throat, making you gag, your mouth becoming wetter.

Your eyes are hardly staying open. With your brain being so mellow, all that you can see or feel or taste is Gojo’s cock as it pumps in and out of your throat, bulging through your neck.

“So gummy,” Gojo purrs, putting his hands on the edge of the washing machine behind you. “Throat fits me so perfect, baby, y’know that?”

You can’t respond but the moaning attempt you make around his cock pulls a grunt from him. You know he’s being incredibly loud and obvious, but you can hardly scold him. The most you can do is crack your palms on his thighs, leaving tiny hand-shaped prints on the smooth skin.

“Hngh - what was that for?” he scolds before murmuring, “do it again.”

You smack his legs again and keep your eyes closed. You’re salivating all over his length and it drips down your chin, which is being abused by his heavy sac in repeated claps.

“Quiet,” you moan around his cock, as he’s letting out the most pathetic, desperate moans while you drive your mouth down to the base.

“N-No,” he grumbles, lifting his shirt up, before taking it between his teeth. You’re met face to face his with his perfect abdomen, glistening in droplets of sweat. “You suck me up so good, princess.”

Your eyes roll in pleasure at the name, eyes watering, mouth no longer dry. You don’t care if he wants to wake up the neighborhood; you just want to hear the delicious, sultry noises.

But right when you feel his dick twitch against the sides of your cheeks, you force your mouth off and swallow down the pool of saliva in the back of your throat. Your lips are wet and puffy as you part them and stare up at him.

“Gah - baby, why?” he quarrels, gripping tightly on your head.

You answer by leaning back forward and kissing his tip, sticking out your tongue and flicking it over the head before backing up again.

His knees nearly buckle, his grip on your head tightens.

“P-please don’t,” he whimpers. “S-suck it.”

“Mm-mm,” you mouth defiantly, wrapping your lips over the tip and gently pressing your teeth down; should he try to shove it deeper, it would only hurt him.

“Ngh - ‘m too horny for this, baby,” he growls. “Was so close.”

“Too bad,” you shrug, voice muffled because of the way you’re swirling your tongue over his slick pink tip.

His head falls forward, white locks dangling over his face as he tries to fight through his unbearably high libido. Your high has started to wear off but you can tell it’s going to be a long night for Satoru.

“Alright princess, I-I’ll remember this,” he coos from above, trying to push his hips towards your face but ultimately hissing and stopping when your teeth clamp down on the meat. “Goddamnit baby, what’s gotten into you? P-Please jus’ le’me cum.”

“Maybe,” you hum, taking him out of your mouth and using your spit to stroke his cock. “How bad you want it?”

“S-so bad,” he begs. “I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” you question, running your thumb over his tip. “Hmm. You’re in charge of cooking dinner for a week. Deal?”

“Ah - fuck it, just please,” he whines, writhing under your touch, barely able to get his words out.

“Cum,” you say silkily, sticking your tongue to catch the salty, white ropes that waste absolutely no time shooting from his shaft.

He twitches under your grip until his high has ridden out, but you use his cum as lubricant to keep stroking his poor length.

“Okay, okay,” he whines. “I-I’m good now, agh.”

“You’re not good till I say so,” you gruff, until his hand comes under your chin harshly, and brings you to a forced standing position.

“I said I’m good, but if you think I’m not getting you back for that - you’re a stupid little thing, aren’t you?” He swipes his thumb over your cum-covered lips, and then licks it clean, before cracking you on the cheek. “Now, on your toes baby. And be quiet.”

A/N:

I’ve been trying to finish this for forever bro wtf is wrong with me

I’m fighting demons (writer’s block)

And also… I think I wanna write some Gojo fluff after #jjk271 because my baby deserves love and light good fucking bye.

all the love always!

~pennjammin

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