#they all just want to be acknowledged for the real them
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Four Goals For You
Summary: Childhood friends turned first love—Sae Itoshi challenges you in the boldest way possible: "If I score a hat trick, you're going on a date with me."
💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞
The VIP lounge buzzes with quiet energy, a mix of calm and anticipation hanging in the air. Below, the stadium lights cast a brilliant glow over the field as fans fill the seats, their excited chatter building into a steady hum. Inside, the team is focused on their final pre-match preparations—some stretching, others engaged in casual conversation. The atmosphere is tense but controlled, the kind of silence that comes before something big.
And in the middle of it all, you sit, watching from the sidelines.
You're not just any guest. You're here at the personal invitation of Sae Itoshi himself!
You and Sae have known each other since childhood—family friends, to be exact. He never cared much for friendships, his ego keeping most people at arm's length, but somehow, you did manage to stay by his side. Maybe it was out of obligation, or maybe there was something more that neither of you dare to acknowledge.
But what you don't know is that Sae has been falling for you all this time. His first love—silent, unspoken, yet undeniably real.
Leaving for Spain was difficult for him. He had to leave his parents, Rin and YOU! The thought of someone else taking his place in your life haunted him, even if he never admitted it. And when he found out you're visiting Spain for the summer, he wasted no time inviting you to his game.
Now, as the final moments before kickoff tick away, Sae suddenly stands up.
The room quiets instantly. His teammates turn, curious. But Sae ignores them all, his teal eyes locked onto you. He strides forward, stopping just inches away.
Then, in front of everyone, he speaks.
"If I score a hat trick today, you're going on a date with me."
Silence.
You blink. Around you, the room suddenly erupts.
"What the hell?!" someone shouts.
"Did Sae just confess in the most Sae way possible?" another mutters.
"Wait, wait, hold on—Sae, are you serious?!"
Sae ignores them, his expression unwavering. He isn't joking. Not even a little.
Your heart pounds. "H-Huh?"
His voice is steady. "You heard me. Three goals, and you’re mine for the evening."
Heat creeps up your neck. The way he looks at you—calm, composed, yet utterly serious—is almost too much to handle. The entire team is waiting for your response.
You cross your arms, trying to steady yourself. "…And if you don't?"
"Not happening."
The room explodes again.
"THIS GUY—"
"Who knew Sae could be such a show-off?!"
"Damn, now I actually want to see him miss just to see what happens—"
Sae's sharp glare cuts them off instantly. Then, without another word, he turns and walks toward the exit. "I'll see you after the match."
And just like that, he's gone.
.............................
The match was insane.
Sae played like a man possessed. Every touch, every movement is calculated perfection. His first goal? A clinical strike. The second? A breathtaking free kick. The third? A last-minute tap-in after effortlessly weaving through the defense.
Hat trick. Game over.
And just in case you think about backing out—he scores a fourth.
The stadium erupts, but Sae barely reacts. Instead, the moment the final whistle blows, he jogs toward the VIP section as he always does but this time his eyes are scanning the crowd for someone..... Searching for you!
You're still frozen in shock when he walks up at you. Without any drama he asks in his usual straightforward time "Four goals. No excuses. When's our date?"
Your face burns as his teammates roar with laughter behind him. You fake-huff with annoyance as you look away and mumble "…I was going to say yes after the third goal. Maybe even if you scored none... I still would have agreed." You pout.
A rare chuckle escapes him after seeing your rare pout, something softer in his gaze now. "Good. Because I wasn't stopping at three, anyway."
And in that moment, Sae Itoshi realised—his biggest victory isn't the match.
It's you.
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maybe maybe - jeon wonwoo imagine
hellooooo ~ i need to give myself a pat in the back for this bcs OH MY GOSH EVEN I WAS GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET WHILE WRITING THIS. the slooooow burn on this🫠 we love a nonchalant and oa combo (if u know u know)
also i was listening to maybe maybe by lola amour while writing this. give it a listen to get the maximum feels😅
for my other svt fics, check them here
All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)
You’ve liked Jeon Wonwoo for as long as you can remember. It’s not a fleeting crush or some shallow infatuation—it’s the kind of feeling that lingers, like a persistent shadow. He knows it; everyone does. But as much as your friends tease you about your obvious affection for him, Wonwoo has never acknowledged it.
Not once.
Wonwoo is the epitome of calm indifference. He’s polite, sure, but he never goes out of his way to engage with anyone outside of his tight-knit circle of friends, Vernon and Minghao. They’re always together, laughing at inside jokes and radiating an air of effortless cool that only makes him seem more unreachable.
And yet, you can’t help yourself. You’re drawn to him like a moth to a flame, even though he treats you no differently than anyone else.
Sometimes you wonder if he even notices the little things you do for him—the way you save him a seat in class when he’s running late, or how you always bring an extra drink to study group just in case he wants one. You tell yourself you’re just being nice, but Mimi, your best friend, sees right through you.
“This is ridiculous,” she tells you one afternoon, leaning back in her chair with an exasperated sigh.
The two of you are sitting outside on the campus lawn, the warm sunlight doing little to ease the frustration in her voice. “You’re bending over backward for a guy who can’t even spare you a second glance.”
“He’s not that bad,” you argue weakly, though even you know it’s a poor defense. Mimi raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.
“Not that bad? Y/N, he’s like a brick wall with glasses. Sure, he’s good-looking, but you can’t build a relationship on eye contact alone.”
“I’m not trying to build a relationship!” you protest, though your cheeks heat at the lie. “I just… I like being around him, that’s all.”
Mimi rolls her eyes. “You like torturing yourself, is what you mean. Honestly, if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you enjoy the challenge.”
Maybe she’s right. Maybe there’s a part of you that holds onto this unrequited crush because it’s safer than the alternative. If you never confess, you can never be rejected. And as much as Wonwoo’s aloofness stings, it’s still better than the thought of him outright telling you he doesn’t feel the same.
But then there are moments—rare, fleeting moments—when you catch a glimpse of something softer beneath his exterior. Like the time you lent him your notes for a class he missed, and he returned them with a quiet “Thanks” and a small, almost imperceptible smile. Or the way his eyes lingered on you for just a second longer than usual when you bumped into him at the library last week.
It’s those moments that keep you hanging on, no matter how much Mimi scolds you for it.
“You’re hopeless,” she says with a shake of her head. But there’s no real malice in her words, just the weary affection of someone who’s watched you pine for too long. “I swear, one day you’re going to look back on this and laugh.”
You doubt it, but you don’t say that out loud. Instead, you change the subject, steering the conversation toward something less painful.
Later that day, you find yourself crossing paths with Wonwoo outside the campus café. He’s with Vernon and Minghao, as usual, but when he sees you, he slows his pace, letting his friends walk ahead without him.
“Hey,” he says, his voice as steady and unreadable as ever.
“Hi,” you manage, your heart doing its usual somersault at the sight of him.
For a moment, you stand there, unsure of what to say. But before the silence can stretch too long, Wonwoo speaks again.
“Thanks for the notes,” he says simply.
It’s not much, just two words, but the sincerity in his tone catches you off guard. For once, it feels like he’s really looking at you, not just through you. And in that moment, you think that maybe, just maybe, there’s hope after all.
It’s a small step, but it’s enough to keep you going.
Mimi is relentless, as she always is when it comes to your love life—or lack thereof. She’s leaning against your desk chair in your dorm room, scrolling through her phone with a dramatic sigh.
“I’m telling you, Y/N, this guy is perfect for you. He’s into photography, loves indie films, and he’s even in your lit class. Plus, he doesn’t act like he’s living in a perpetual state of indifference.” She shoves her phone in your face, showing you a photo of a guy you vaguely recognize from class. He’s cute, objectively speaking, with a kind smile and a soft, approachable vibe.
But you shake your head before Mimi can even finish her pitch. “I’m not interested.”
Mimi groans, tossing her phone onto your bed. “Why do you do this to yourself? It’s not like you’re dating Wonwoo, or that he’s even trying to date you. You’re wasting your time on a guy who can’t even bother to hold a real conversation with you.”
Her words hit harder than she probably intended, and for a moment, you feel the weight of the truth behind them. She’s right—nothing about your feelings for Wonwoo makes sense. You know it’s a losing game, but every time you even consider the idea of moving on, it feels wrong. Like you’d be betraying something you’ve held onto for so long.
“It’s not that simple,” you say finally, your voice quieter than you intended.
Mimi softens at your tone, sinking onto the edge of your bed. “Then make it simple, Y/N. I get it—you like him. But you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You deserve someone who actually sees you.”
“I don’t know if I want someone else to see me,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.
It’s frustrating—you’re frustrated with yourself.
Every time you see Wonwoo, it’s like all the logic and advice you’ve been given evaporates into thin air. All you see is him: the way his glasses slide down his nose when he’s reading, or the rare laugh that lights up his face when Vernon says something ridiculous. It’s like he’s carved a permanent space in your mind, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t make him leave.
Mimi looks at you like she’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re not even ready to like someone else, are you?”
You shake your head, a small, self-deprecating smile playing on your lips. “I don’t think so. It’s stupid, right? Holding onto feelings for someone who probably doesn’t even think about me.”
“It’s not stupid,” she says, surprising you. “It’s just… hard to watch. You’re one of the best people I know, Y/N, and it sucks to see you stuck on someone who doesn’t appreciate that.”
You’re about to respond when your phone buzzes on the desk. It’s a notification from the group chat for your literature project, and your heart skips a beat when you see Wonwoo’s name among the participants.
“Speak of the devil,” Mimi mutters when she notices your expression. She doesn’t need to ask who the message is from.
You open the chat to find a simple message from Wonwoo: I have some extra notes from class if anyone needs them. Just let me know.
It’s not directed at you specifically, but your heart still flutters at the thought of him offering to help. Mimi catches the way your lips twitch into a faint smile and groans dramatically, flopping back onto your bed.
“You’re hopeless,” she declares, though her tone is more resigned than annoyed.
You don’t argue with her this time. Maybe you are hopeless, but you’re not ready to give up just yet. Because even though it doesn’t make sense, even though it’s frustrating and irrational and probably a little pathetic, a part of you still believes there’s something worth holding onto.
The next day, you’re determined to take a small step forward.
Wonwoo’s message about the notes keeps replaying in your mind, like a sign you can’t ignore. It’s a flimsy excuse to talk to him, sure, but it’s enough to make you gather your courage and head toward the study hall where you know he likes to hang out.
You spot him right away, sitting at his usual corner table. His laptop is open, and a notebook lies beside it, his familiar neat handwriting filling the pages. But before you can take another step, you see her.
She’s sitting across from him, her dark hair tied back in a sleek ponytail. She’s gorgeous in a natural, effortless way that makes you want to disappear on the spot. And the way Wonwoo looks at her—it’s like someone punched you in the stomach. His smile is soft, easy, like he’s known her forever. He’s speaking to her with a comfort and warmth that he’s never shown you.
You freeze in place, your confidence evaporating in an instant. All the what-ifs and maybes that have kept you going suddenly feel childish and naive. You turn on your heel and leave before either of them can notice you.
The rest of the week feels like a blur. You don’t have the energy to pretend everything is fine, and Mimi is quick to notice.
“What’s wrong with you lately?” she asks on Thursday, her eyes narrowing in concern as she sits across from you in the campus café. “You’ve been moping around like someone stole your dog.”
You shrug, poking at your untouched sandwich. “It’s nothing.”
“Liar,” she says immediately. “Come on, spill.”
When you hesitate, she leans in closer, her voice softening. “Is it Wonwoo?”
The look on your face is answer enough.
Mimi lets out a groan, rubbing her temples. “Y/N, you’ve got to stop doing this to yourself. If he’s making you feel like this—”
“It’s not his fault,” you cut in quickly. “He doesn’t even know how I feel.”
“Exactly,” she says, exasperated. “You’re tearing yourself apart over a guy who doesn’t even know what he’s doing to you.”
You don’t respond, and Mimi sighs. After a moment of silence, she leans forward with a determined look in her eyes.
“Alright, that’s it. I’m not letting you mope around all weekend. There’s a party on Saturday, and you’re coming with me.”
You open your mouth to protest, but she holds up a hand to stop you.
“No excuses. You need a distraction, and I’m going to make sure you have fun whether you like it or not.”
True to her word, Saturday evening finds you standing in front of the mirror, dressed in an outfit Mimi picked out for you. It’s a little more daring than your usual style—an off-the-shoulder black dress that hugs your figure in all the right places—but Mimi insists it’s perfect.
“You look hot,” she declares, grinning as she adjusts the necklace around your neck. “Wonwoo who?”
You laugh despite yourself, though the sound feels hollow. Mimi doesn’t miss the way your smile falters, and she grabs your hands, forcing you to meet her gaze.
“Listen, Y/N. Tonight is about you. Forget about Wonwoo, forget about everything else, and just have fun. You deserve to feel good about yourself, okay?”
“Okay,” you murmur, even though you’re not sure you believe it.
But as Mimi drags you out the door and toward the party, you can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, she’s right. Maybe it’s time to let go, even if just for one night.
The bass from the speakers reverberates through your chest the moment you step inside the party venue. It’s dimly lit, with neon lights flashing and a sea of people crowded around the dance floor and bar.
You feel out of place immediately, but Mimi, ever the extrovert, is in her element. She practically radiates confidence as she scans the room, her hand firmly gripping your wrist.
“This is going to be fun,” she says with a grin, already pulling you toward the bar.
“Mimi, wait—” you start to protest, but she’s not listening. Within moments, she’s ordering shots, her energy infectiously bold.
“Two tequila shots, please!” she calls out over the noise, turning to you with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. “Come on, Y/N. You said you’d let loose tonight!”
“I didn’t say I’d drink,” you mumble, eyeing the small glasses as they’re placed in front of you.
Mimi rolls her eyes. “One shot won’t kill you. It’s called liquid courage. You’ll thank me later.”
Before you can object again, she’s shoving one of the glasses into your hand. Everything feels like it’s happening too fast—the music, the lights, the crowd, and now this. You glance down at the clear liquid and then at Mimi, who’s already downed hers like a pro.
“Cheers to forgetting about all your worries!” she declares, clinking her empty glass against yours.
You sigh, realizing you have no way out, and tip the shot back. The alcohol burns as it goes down, and you cough slightly, grimacing at the taste. Mimi laughs and pats your back.
“There you go! See? That wasn’t so bad,” she says, already signaling for another round.
As Mimi orders more drinks, you glance around the room, trying to get your bearings.
You don’t notice the way heads turn in your direction, but Wonwoo does.
From his spot in the corner of the room, he’s watching you.
He’d seen you the moment you walked in, though he wasn’t the only one. It’s hard not to notice you tonight. You look stunning, completely different from your usual casual, understated style. The black dress you’re wearing accentuates your figure, and there’s a confidence in the way you carry yourself—even if you don’t feel it.
Vernon nudges him lightly, leaning in to murmur, “Isn’t that Y/N?”
Wonwoo doesn’t reply, his gaze fixed on you as you stand at the bar with Mimi. He’s used to seeing you in hoodies and jeans, always looking comfortable and approachable. But tonight, you’re turning heads left and right, and it’s clear you’re out of your element.
“She cleans up well,” Minghao comments casually, sipping his drink.
Wonwoo doesn’t respond, but his jaw tightens ever so slightly. He watches as Mimi drags you further into the chaos of the party, her energy pulling you along like a whirlwind. You seem hesitant, your eyes wide as you take in the unfamiliar environment, but there’s something endearing about it.
For a moment, Wonwoo feels a strange pang in his chest, though he can’t quite place it. Maybe it’s because he’s not used to seeing you like this, so far removed from the quiet kindness you usually exude. Or maybe it’s the way other people are looking at you—the guys whose eyes linger a little too long, the girls whispering behind their hands.
“Dude,” Vernon says, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You good?”
Wonwoo blinks, finally tearing his gaze away. “Yeah,” he mutters, though his voice lacks conviction.
But even as his friends return to their conversation, Wonwoo can’t help but glance back at you. There’s something about tonight that feels different, and for the first time in a long time, he wonders if he’s the one being left behind.
The alcohol was starting to buzz in your veins, making the room feel warmer and the noise more distant. Mimi was in her element, laughing and chatting with a group of students you vaguely recognized from campus. Somehow, you’d gotten swept up in their drinking games, and before you knew it, one shot had turned into two, then three.
Now, you were standing in a loose circle, your nerves on edge as you watched the current game unfold. Someone had explained it a moment ago: take the shot, then grab the lemon wedge held between another person’s lips. It was bold, far outside your comfort zone, but you didn’t want to be the odd one out.
“Your turn, Y/N!” someone called, handing you a small shot glass filled with tequila.
Your hands felt clammy as you accepted it, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn’t even look at the person who was supposed to hold the lemon for you—your nerves wouldn’t let you. All you could think about was how awkward this was going to be, and how much you wished you could disappear into the floor.
You took a deep breath, closing your eyes briefly as you downed the shot in one go.
The burn of the alcohol hit first, followed by a rush of heat in your chest. When you opened your eyes and turned your head to face whoever had volunteered to hold the lemon, you froze.
Wonwoo didn’t expect it to happen so soon, but there you were, standing at the bar with a shot in hand, the challenge in your eyes as you glanced at the person next to you holding a lemon.
And then—before he even realized what he was doing—he found himself walking over.
You blinked, wondering if the tequila was playing tricks on you. But no—he was standing right in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face as if this was the most natural thing in the world. The room seemed to fall away, the noise and chaos fading into the background.
The lemon wedge was between his lips, his sharp gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.
Your heart felt like it might burst out of your chest as he leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving yours. His touch was warm, steady, grounding you even as your mind spiraled.
Every nerve in your body was on high alert, the proximity making your head spin even more than the alcohol.
The way you looked at him when you saw him standing there, so close, made something stir in his chest. He was used to seeing you in passing, in casual greetings, but never like this.
Never with this... spark in your eyes, the nervous energy swirling between you two as if the whole room had faded into the background.
His hand found its way to your face without him thinking about it. It was like instinct, like he was meant to touch you, to make the moment real, to ground you in the present. He could feel your breath against his lips as he held the lemon between his teeth, his own heartbeat quickening as he leaned in. The closeness was intoxicating, and even though everything around you was chaotic, there was a stillness between you two—something unspoken that hummed in the air.
His lips brushed against yours, and for a split second, the world stopped moving. The taste of tequila, the sharpness of the lemon, it all blurred together, leaving just the feeling of your presence, warm and electric. It was over in an instant, but the memory lingered like an echo in his mind.
When he pulled away, he noticed the slight tremble in your breath, the flush creeping up your cheeks. His fingers lingered on your skin, just for a moment, before he let go and took a step back. He couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or something else that made him act on impulse, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.
“Careful with those shots,” he said, his voice steady as he turned to leave, wanting to disappear into the crowd before he did something even more foolish.
And just like that, he was gone, disappearing back into the crowd.
You stood there, your heart racing and your mind spinning, wondering if what had just happened was real—or if it was just another tequila-induced dream.
The morning light is harsh, seeping through the blinds and hitting you like a freight train.
Your head pounds, your mouth is dry, and you feel like your body is made of lead. Every movement feels like a chore, and the only thing you want is to pull the covers over your head and pretend like the world doesn't exist.
But then you remember last night. Bits and pieces of the party flash through your foggy mind—Mimi dragging you into the chaos, the shots, the people... and then, the moment with Wonwoo.
You sit up, your stomach flipping at the thought of it.
What had happened? Was it real? Or just a tequila-fueled dream? Your heart sinks into your stomach as the hangover makes itself known in full force. You groan, leaning back against your pillow.
Mimi, ever the morning person, bursts into your room without knocking, as if she doesn’t notice the state you’re in.
“Morning!” she says brightly, a little too brightly, given your current condition. She’s holding a water bottle and some aspirin in her hand. “Here, drink this. You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”
“Thanks,” you mutter, taking the bottle gratefully, but your eyes are still squinting against the harsh light. “Mimi... what happened last night? What... what did I do?”
Mimi plops down on the edge of your bed, clearly already recovered from whatever wildness the night had thrown her way. She grins, almost too smugly for your current state.
“Let me think,” she says, tapping her chin like she’s in deep contemplation. “Well, first you got a little tipsy, then you got a lot tipsy... You were a little shy at first, but after a few shots, you really started to loosen up!”
You wince, already imagining how embarrassing you must have been. “And…?”
“Then,” she continues, barely able to contain her laughter, “you and Wonwoo had a moment.”
You freeze, your heart skipping a beat. “Wait, what?”
“Oh yeah,” Mimi says, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You two were definitely the talk of the night. You guys played that game, and then...” She pauses for dramatic effect, clearly enjoying every second of your discomfort. “...Well, let’s just say the lemon wedge wasn’t the only thing shared.”
Your brain stumbles over the words as the memory floods back. You and Wonwoo, so close, his hands on your face, the taste of tequila and lemon... And then the kiss, the soft brush of his lips against yours, lingering for just a heartbeat.
You feel your cheeks heat up, even as you cringe internally. “That wasn’t a kiss, was it?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Oh, it definitely was,” Mimi says with a teasing grin, clearly delighted by the reaction she’s getting from you. “A very brief one, but yeah. It happened.”
You bury your face in your hands, groaning in embarrassment. “Oh my god, I’m going to die.”
“No, no, no.” Mimi leans in, trying to comfort you—though her laughter is a little too apparent. “It wasn’t a big deal! You didn’t embarrass yourself too badly. Besides, from what I saw, he didn’t look like he minded.”
You look up at her, eyes wide. “What do you mean? Did he say anything?”
Mimi shrugs, her grin turning a little more thoughtful. “He didn’t say much”
Your heart skips a beat. You hadn’t even considered that. Did he... stay because he was just being polite? Or was there something else there?
"Did anything else happen after that?" you ask cautiously.
Mimi shakes her head. "No, you two went your separate ways pretty quickly after that. I mean, you were a little tipsy, so I didn't want to push you too much. But trust me, you're not imagining it. Something happened, even if you're too hungover to remember all the details.”
You lean back against the pillows, the weight of her words settling in your chest. Wonwoo. That moment. Had he really felt something too? Or was it just the alcohol making you think there was more to it than there actually was?
"Mimi..." you trail off, unsure how to even phrase your next question. "What do I do now?"
Mimi's expression softens slightly, though she still has that mischievous glint in her eye. "You let it play out. Don't overthink it. If something’s meant to happen, it will. If not, then at least you got a pretty wild story to tell."
You nod slowly, still unsure about everything. The hangover isn’t making things any easier, and your head feels like it’s full of unanswered questions.
But as you drink the water and swallow the aspirin she handed you, you can’t shake the feeling that this could be the beginning of something you’ve been waiting for. Even if you don’t have all the answers yet.
The next few days felt like an emotional rollercoaster, and you were stuck somewhere near the top, trying to keep your balance.
After last night’s chaos, you couldn’t bring yourself to face Wonwoo. You avoided him like the plague, keeping your distance whenever you saw him around campus. It wasn’t because you regretted what happened, but because... well, it felt like you were the only one who cared about it, and that made everything awkward.
Wonwoo didn’t say anything, didn’t acknowledge you or the kiss. He acted like it was nothing, like it was just some silly game, just like the other shots and the other people. But the longer you avoided him, the more you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was aware of it—aware of you. And that only made it worse.
His friends had caught on, too. Vernon had laughed it off, saying it was cute how you were avoiding Wonwoo. Minghao seemed amused. They didn’t think much of it, but you couldn’t ignore the tension that built up every time you crossed paths with them.
But it wasn’t just them noticing. Wonwoo was noticing too. You could feel his eyes on you whenever you went to class or sat in the library. His usual nonchalant demeanor didn’t give anything away, but there was something in the way he lingered a little longer, just enough to make you feel seen, even when you wanted to disappear.
Then, one afternoon, when you thought you were finally in the clear, it happened.
You were walking home, head down, lost in your thoughts as the weight of the last few days pressed heavily on your shoulders. You should’ve stayed in and avoided the outside world. But, no, you were out here, walking alone, hoping the fresh air would clear your head.
And then, you heard the familiar sound of an engine approaching. You looked up just in time to see Wonwoo’s car slowing beside you. Your heart skipped, and for a moment, everything inside you screamed to turn around and run. You were already panicking, your steps quickening, but before you could escape, the car came to a stop beside you.
Wonwoo rolled down the window, his expression as unreadable as ever, but his voice—his voice was what made you freeze.
“Y/N,” he called out, and your pulse quickened. You turn slowly to face him
"Hey, Wonwoo. Uh what's up?" you casually, trying to hide the fact that your face is burning because of him and not the cold winds
"Just got out of class, are you walking home?"
"Yea, on my way home too. Anyways, I better get going. See you... around" you wave goodbye and started to walk again.
You hear the car door open and steps behind you, "Are you avoiding me?" his question makes you stop on your tracks. Turning around to see him leaning against the passenger side of his car
“Uh... I... It’s just—” you stutter, and then you realize you can’t lie about it anymore. “It’s because of... the kiss.”
His face doesn’t shift, no surprise or confusion. He just looks at you, his dark eyes locking onto yours for a moment too long. And then, as if it’s nothing at all, he shrugs.
“It wasn’t even a kiss, Y/N,” he says coolly, as though it’s no big deal. “It was just... part of the game. Nothing to worry about.”
The words hit you like a bucket of ice water. You’re disappointed, though you try not to show it. You wanted something more. You wanted him to acknowledge the tension, the fact that there was something between you two, something real.
But of course, that was just how Wonwoo was—nonchalant, distant, and always acting like everything was just nothing.
You couldn’t help the slight sinking feeling in your chest. You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Right. Of course,” you mutter, hoping your voice doesn’t betray the disappointment you feel.
For a moment, neither of you says anything. You feel awkward, standing there on the sidewalk, his car still idling beside you. But then he speaks again, his tone softening just slightly, though still with that signature aloofness.
“Get in. I’ll drive you home.” he opens the passenger door, waiting for you.
You hesitate. You should just say no, continue walking, put some distance between you. But you’re tired, emotionally drained, and there's something about his voice—something about the way he’s offering that makes it hard to refuse. You sigh, not knowing what to say but not wanting to make things worse. You step toward the car, sliding into the passenger seat without another word.
As he pulls away, the silence in the car is thick, and you can’t stop the thoughts that swirl in your head. You want to ask him, want to know if that kiss meant anything to him, or if he really did feel nothing about it.
But that’s just how Wonwoo was, wasn’t it? Always distant, always playing it cool, never letting anyone get too close.
The drive to your place feels like an eternity, but in the back of your mind, you know this silence between you two is only going to build the tension more. You just wish he would break it.
It wasn’t easy, but you were getting better at avoiding him. The subtle things you used to do for him—saving him a seat in the library, offering him drinks or homemade cookies—had all stopped. You still couldn’t bring yourself to fully confront your feelings for him, and honestly, it felt like the only way to protect yourself was to distance yourself from him as much as possible.
You told yourself it was for the best. You told yourself that the space you were creating would help you get over him. But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much time passed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was always watching, always noticing.
And, of course, he noticed. Wonwoo wasn’t the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but he was observant, maybe more so than he let on. He noticed that you stopped going out of your way to be kind to him. He noticed the absence of the small, thoughtful gestures you used to offer. At first, he didn’t say anything, uncertain of what was going on, or whether he even had the right to ask you about it.
But eventually, he couldn’t take the silence anymore.
It was late in the afternoon when you were walking alone on campus, heading toward the library to meet up with Mimi. The cool breeze made your hair dance around your face, and the noise of the campus life seemed distant, as if you were in your own little bubble.
As you passed by the gym, you saw him. Wonwoo. He had just finished his workout, his gym bag slung over his shoulder, his T-shirt sticking to his body in that way it always did after a session. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but you quickly turned your attention elsewhere, pretending you hadn’t seen him.
But he saw you. Of course, he did.
“Y/N,” Wonwoo called out, his voice cutting through the ambient noise, his footsteps quickening to match yours. You tried not to flinch as you heard him approaching, but your pulse was racing.
You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him, hoping your expression didn’t betray the nervousness bubbling up inside you. “Wonwoo?” you said, keeping your voice steady even though it felt like your heart was about to leap out of your chest.
He stopped in front of you, looking at you for a beat too long, like he was sizing you up. The look on his face was unreadable, but you could see the confusion in his eyes, the way his brows furrowed slightly as he took you in.
"Why did you stop?" he asked, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.
"Stop?" You repeated, confused by his question. What was he even talking about?
"Yeah," he continued, his voice casual, but there was something different in it now. Something that made you feel like you were under a microscope. "You stopped... saving me seats, or bringing me stuff. You used to do that all the time."
You didn’t know how to respond. A part of you wanted to lie, to say it was no big deal, that you were just too busy or distracted with school, but something in his eyes made you hesitate. The truth, the real reason you were avoiding him, was too complicated. You couldn’t say it outright.
“I just… I guess I’ve been busy,” you said quietly, avoiding his gaze. “Things just… changed, I guess.”
Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, as though trying to understand, but he didn’t push. There was no challenge in his voice, no annoyance. It was just curiosity, genuine and unassuming.
"Okay," he said after a beat, his eyes still locked on you. “I just thought you were mad at me or something.”
You felt a pang of guilt at his words, but you brushed it aside. “I’m not mad, Wonwoo. I’m just... I don’t know." You shook your head, unsure of how to explain your feelings without making things even more awkward. “I guess I just needed space.”
There was a pause, and then, for the first time in a while, he looked almost... vulnerable. "Space? For what?"
You swallowed hard, your throat dry. You could hear the underlying question in his voice, even if he wasn’t asking it directly. Why had you pulled away from him? Why had you stopped the small things that used to come so naturally?
Before you could say anything else, Wonwoo let out a small sigh, and though his expression was still unreadable, there was something softer in his tone. “Alright. I just wanted to know.”
Without waiting for you to respond, he turned to leave, his steps slow but purposeful. For a moment, you just stood there, watching him walk away, the weight of his question lingering in the air between you.
You couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment, though you weren’t sure what exactly you were disappointed in. Was it because he hadn’t pushed you to explain? Or was it because, deep down, you were still waiting for him to say something, anything, to make you feel like your feelings weren’t so one-sided after all?
But that was just how Wonwoo was, wasn’t it? Detached, distant, and never quite giving you the answers you needed.
And yet, even as you watched him disappear into the distance, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder—maybe he did want to know.
The cool breeze of the evening felt nice against your skin as you walked through the quiet neighborhood, sipping on your banana milk. The streets were relatively empty, the soft hum of the evening a welcome relief after a busy week. You didn’t have a particular destination in mind—just wanted to clear your head and enjoy the peace for a while.
As you walked past the familiar basketball court, you spotted a figure out of the corner of your eye. At first, you didn’t think much of it, but then the silhouette registered in your mind. It was Wonwoo.
You stopped in your tracks, unsure whether to approach him or just keep walking. He didn’t seem to notice you at first, too focused on dribbling the ball and taking shots at the hoop. The setting sun cast a warm glow over the court, and for a moment, you found yourself just watching him. There was something about his movements that seemed different, something tight in the way he played—like he was working through something that was bothering him.
Maybe it was the way his jaw was clenched or the way his shoulders were hunched. He looked almost frustrated, the usual nonchalance replaced by something more intense. You stood there, quietly sipping your drink, lost in thought as you watched him.
You were so absorbed in the moment that you didn’t see the ball coming toward you. It hit you squarely on the head before you could react.
"Ouch!" you exclaimed, wincing as you staggered back a step.
Wonwoo’s head snapped toward you immediately, his eyes wide with concern. He jogged over, his long legs covering the distance quickly.
"Are you okay?" he asked, voice laced with worry. He stood in front of you, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of injury.
You rubbed your head, trying to play it off as no big deal. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just wasn’t paying attention,” you muttered, but you could tell by the way Wonwoo was looking at you that he wasn’t convinced.
“Are you sure?” He reached up to gently touch the spot where the ball had hit you, his fingers lightly brushing the area. His touch was surprisingly soft, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest despite the situation.
“Really, I’m fine,” you said quickly, pulling back slightly. The last thing you needed was to be caught up in another one of these awkward moments with him.
But before you could brush it off entirely, something in you gave way. The distance you’d been trying to maintain, the walls you’d carefully built to protect yourself—suddenly, it felt so fragile. Maybe it was the way Wonwoo was looking at you so intently, or maybe it was the fact that it had been days since you last spoke. Whatever it was, the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them.
"I just thought I was being too much," you murmured, your gaze dropping to the ground. "And it’s not like you liked it."
Wonwoo froze, his expression unreadable for a moment as he processed your words.
The air between you seemed to thicken, the awkwardness of the situation now mixed with something more vulnerable. You could feel your heart beating faster, the confession hanging in the air like a weight.
You regretted saying it the moment it left your lips, but it felt like the truth—no matter how painful it was. You didn’t want to keep putting yourself out there, offering him small gestures and favors if he wasn’t interested in them, or in you.
For a long moment, Wonwoo didn’t say anything. His gaze softened, and he seemed to be carefully considering his next words. It wasn’t the detached, nonchalant Wonwoo you were used to.
This time, he seemed almost... human.
"You’re not being too much," he said quietly, his voice lacking its usual coldness. He met your eyes, and for the first time in a while, you saw something different in his gaze—something that wasn’t easy to define. "And I didn’t think it was annoying or anything."
You weren’t sure if you believed him, but the sincerity in his voice made you hesitate. Was he really saying that? Did he mean it?
“I thought you wouldn’t want me to keep doing those things for you if you didn’t care.”
Wonwoo’s expression softened even more, and he let out a small sigh, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that was far more human than the usual composed Wonwoo you knew.
“You’re not being too much, and I guess I see why you think I didn't care. I never said I didn't” he says, this time with more conviction. “I just…” He trailed off, like he was searching for the right words. “I just didn’t know what to make of it. You were doing all these things, and I didn’t know how to react.”
There it was. The reason for his distance. The reason for his coldness. He hadn’t known how to handle your kindness. He hadn’t known what to do with the way you made him feel, and so he had kept his distance, just as you had.
“I’m sorry,” he added after a beat, looking slightly embarrassed, as though the admission was a little difficult for him.
You didn’t know what to say, your mind swirling with a mix of emotions. Had you really been wrong all along? Had he cared, but just not known how to show it?
You were so taken aback by his answer that your mind couldn't keep up. The words he had said, so simple, yet so unexpected, rattled your thoughts. I never said I didn’t care. Had you misread everything? Had all your attempts to keep your distance been for nothing?
"But then the kiss..."
"That was me being stupid, I should've apologized for invading your space like that and you look really bothered by it. I was being dumb"
"Well you did say it was just a game" you mumble
"Like I said, I was being dumb and I apologize" he shoots you a quick apologetic smile
Before you could process anything more, your face heated up with embarrassment. You felt suddenly shy, the weight of the conversation pressing down on you, making it harder to breathe.
“I—” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt a nervous energy surge through you, a mix of confusion and the rush of emotions you were trying to keep hidden.
“I’m fine, really.” You managed to give him a small, flustered smile, hoping it would make him stop worrying about you.
But Wonwoo wasn’t convinced. He stepped a little closer, eyes scanning you with concern. “You don’t seem fine,” he said, his brow furrowing as he looked you over. “You sure you’re not concussed or something? You hit your head pretty hard.”
Your heart raced at the proximity, and you could feel the overwhelming urge to escape before you made a bigger fool of yourself. He was too close.
“No, really, I’m fine,” you said quickly, the words coming out in a rush as you took a step back. You were panicking, trying to make sense of everything, but all you wanted in that moment was to get away from him. To breathe. To process what had just happened.
Before you knew it, your feet were already moving, backing away from him at a faster pace. You didn’t even think about it—your body just reacted, the instinct to escape taking over.
“Y/N?” Wonwoo called after you, his voice filled with concern, but you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t deal with this right now. Not with him standing there, looking so sincere and worried, when you were still trying to understand everything that had just happened.
“I’m sorry, I really have to go!” you shouted over your shoulder, not daring to look back.
You could hear him calling your name again, but you didn’t stop. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you turned down the nearby street, running as fast as you could without looking back.
You kept running, trying to outrun the mess of emotions that swirled inside you. The awkwardness, the guilt, the confusion—it was all too much. And you couldn’t deal with it now.
As you finally slowed down, your breath coming in heavy gasps, you leaned against a nearby wall, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your heartbeat. You’d never done anything like that before—just ran away from a conversation like it was nothing. But in that moment, it felt like the only thing you could do.
What had just happened? Why did his words make you feel like everything inside you was unraveling?
You were doing well—at least, you thought you were.
For the past few days, you had managed to avoid any direct interaction with Wonwoo. You kept your distance, keeping your head down whenever he was around, avoiding his gaze, and hiding whenever you could. It was easier that way. You convinced yourself it was better this way.
But then, on this particular day, as you were gathering your things at the end of class, preparing to leave, you felt a tug on the hood of your jacket. You froze, instinctively jerking away from the sudden contact.
"Y/N," a calm voice spoke, and you looked up to find Wonwoo standing there, looking down at you with a slightly amused, yet nonchalant expression. He didn’t seem angry, just... observing.
You felt your heart skip a beat, and before you could stop yourself, your cheeks began to heat up. His gaze was steady, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as if he was asking you, Are you really doing this?
You didn’t know how to respond. Every part of you wanted to turn away and just leave before things got any worse, but your feet felt rooted to the spot.
“I... I wasn’t... trying to hide,” you stammered, but your voice came out weaker than you’d intended.
Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, not saying anything at first. He didn’t need to. His gaze alone spoke volumes. He was just waiting for you to admit what was going on.
You shifted uncomfortably, biting your lower lip as you awkwardly tried to avoid his gaze. “I... didn’t know how to talk to you,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s been... confusing. And I thought... maybe it was better to just keep my distance.”
Wonwoo didn’t seem angry. In fact, the amused look on his face lingered, but there was something else there, something softer that you weren’t used to seeing from him. “You’ve been avoiding me for days now,” he said in that same calm tone, his voice unbothered. “But running away won’t make this go away, you know.”
You winced at his words, feeling the weight of them more than you wanted to admit. But you couldn’t deny that he was right. It wasn’t going to disappear just because you ran away from it.
“I... I don’t know what to say to you,” you confessed, feeling all your anxiety bubbling up again. “I don’t want to make things awkward. I just...”
“Just what?” Wonwoo asked, his expression unreadable now, his voice still quiet but insistent. “You think I won’t understand?”
You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I don’t know if you will,” you murmured, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “I thought maybe... maybe it was easier to just pretend it didn’t matter.”
Wonwoo studied you for a moment, his gaze softening slightly. “You think it doesn’t matter?” he asked, his voice low, almost thoughtful. “You’re the one who’s been giving me things, doing things for me. It matters.”
You felt your heart beat faster, unsure of how to handle this newfound vulnerability in his voice. It was unlike him, and it was making everything even more complicated.
“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you said quietly, your hands still fidgeting with the sleeves of your jacket. “I thought... maybe I was just being annoying.”
Wonwoo let out a soft sigh, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Y/N... you weren’t being annoying. I just didn’t know how to respond to you, okay?” His voice softened further, a hint of frustration in it now, but not at you—at himself, maybe. "I didn't know what you wanted from me."
You stared at him, unsure what to say. His words were hitting you in a way you hadn’t expected, and the confusion that had been gnawing at you for so long started to ebb, replaced by a different kind of uncertainty.
“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.
He looked away for a moment, as if embarrassed by his own admission, but then his gaze returned to yours. “I didn’t know how to. It’s easier for me to just... not talk about these things." He paused, then gave you a small, almost hesitant smile. "But I’m trying, okay?”
The sincerity in his words made your chest ache, and you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, but at the same time, it was replaced by something new—something you weren’t sure you were ready for.
“So... what now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, almost afraid of the answer.
Wonwoo stepped closer, a subtle movement that somehow felt like the most intimate thing. His expression was still calm, but there was a softness in it now that made your heart race. “Now, we talk. No more running away.”
You didn’t know what that would mean for you, for him, for whatever this was between you. But right now, it felt like you might finally be able to stop avoiding the truth.
You find yourself sitting across him at a diner outside campus. The booth was cozy, the dim lighting giving the place a warm, inviting atmosphere. But despite the warmth of the surroundings, you felt cold. The walls you’d carefully built around yourself seemed to be crumbling, and the closer you got to Wonwoo, the more vulnerable you felt.
You hadn’t said much since you’d arrived, your gaze bouncing around the diner, avoiding his eyes whenever they found yours.
Wonwoo, however, was watching you with quiet amusement, his gaze flickering between you and the menu in his hands. He could tell you were uncomfortable, restlessly fiddling with your hands, your eyes constantly darting away whenever he caught you looking at him.
"Hey," he finally said, his voice calm but carrying a teasing edge. "You seem a little... tense."
You bit your lip, unsure how to respond, but before you could say anything, you noticed your own body language—a slight fidget, your shoulders stiff, your legs crossed tightly. You shifted in your seat, trying to make yourself comfortable, but it wasn’t working. You couldn’t shake the feeling of his gaze on you.
“I... I just don’t like sitting across from people,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your gaze still averted. “It’s too much pressure, I guess.”
Wonwoo didn’t hesitate. Without saying a word, he slid out of the booth, shifting to the side next to you. The movement was casual, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. He wasn’t judging you for your discomfort. Instead, he was meeting you halfway, making you feel... seen.
He settled beside you, his arm brushing against yours as he leaned back against the booth, a relaxed smile spreading across his face. He was so close now, and you felt a sudden rush of warmth flood your chest. Your heart skipped a beat, but this time, it wasn’t from nerves. It was from the unexpected comfort of his presence.
“Better?” he asked, his voice low and surprisingly gentle, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of unease.
You nodded, but this time, you didn’t shy away from meeting his gaze. The proximity made everything feel a little more real, a little more grounded. And, for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel the need to run away.
“Yeah,” you murmured, still a little flustered, but this time, the smile on your lips was more genuine, more relaxed. “This feels better.”
Wonwoo smirked, clearly pleased with your response, but there was a softness in his eyes that made your chest tighten. “Good,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable around me.”
“So…” You hesitated for a moment, still unsure of how to navigate this new dynamic between you. “What now?”
Wonwoo’s gaze softened, and he shrugged casually, though his eyes held a certain sincerity. “Now, we eat, and we talk. You don’t have to worry about running away anymore.” He paused, then added with a small smile, “And no more avoiding me, okay?”
You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. This wasn’t going to be easy, but maybe, just maybe, you were ready to start figuring things out—with him, and with yourself.
You nodded slowly, the silence between you wasn’t exactly awkward, but it wasn’t easy, either. It felt like there were a thousand unspoken words hanging in the air, and neither of you knew how to address them.
Then, Wonwoo spoke, his voice calm and steady. “What’s your go-to drink order?”
You blinked, startled by the question. Out of all the things he could’ve asked, that wasn’t what you expected. “Uh…” You hesitated, glancing at him briefly before looking back down at your hands. “Probably... iced vanilla latte. Or banana milk,” you added with a nervous laugh, gesturing to the nearly empty carton in front of you, you pulled it out of your bag a few minutes ago.
Wonwoo nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I figured you liked banana milk. I see you drinking it a lot.”
Your cheeks heated up at his observation, and you ducked your head, suddenly very aware of how closely he paid attention to you. “Yeah, it’s kind of a comfort drink,” you admitted softly. “What about you?”
“Americano,” he replied easily. “No sugar.”
You scrunched your nose at that, and Wonwoo let out a soft chuckle at your reaction. “What?” he teased. “Not a fan of bitter drinks?”
“Not really,” you admitted, daring a quick glance at him before looking away again. “I like sweet things.”
Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving you. “What’s your favorite dessert?”
You bit your lip, trying to think. The way he was watching you so intently made your brain feel foggy, and it was hard to focus. “Probably... cheesecake,” you finally said. “Strawberry cheesecake.”
He hummed thoughtfully, as if filing that piece of information away. “Strawberry cheesecake,” he repeated, his voice soft. “Noted.”
“Why are you asking me this?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.
Wonwoo shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just trying to get to know you better.”
That answer caught you off guard. You looked down at your lap, your hands twisting nervously. “But... why?”
He didn’t answer right away, and when you finally gathered the courage to look up at him, you found him watching you with a softness in his eyes that made your heart ache. “Because I want to,” he said simply, his voice quiet but certain.
Your breath caught in your throat, and you quickly looked away again, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and you could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
Wonwoo didn’t push you to say anything else. He let the silence settle again, but it didn’t feel as heavy this time. It felt... different. Like he was giving you space to process, to breathe.
And for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe he wasn’t as far out of reach as you’d always thought.
It's suppose to be another normal day. You're in class, sitting next to MImi still feeling sleepy but then something slides infront of you.
You stared at the banana milk on your desk like it had suddenly sprouted wings. Slowly, you turned back to look at Wonwoo, who was casually flipping through his notebook like this was the most normal thing in the world.
Mimi, sitting to your right, nudged your arm, her expression a mix of confusion and barely-contained glee. “What’s going on?” she whispered, her eyes darting between you and Wonwoo like she was trying to piece together a crime scene.
“I have no idea,” you whispered back
You leaned slightly toward Wonwoo, lowering your voice as much as possible. “What are you doing?”
“Attending class,” he replied, not even looking up from his notebook. His tone was so calm, so casual, that for a moment you thought you’d imagined him moving seats altogether.
“Here?” you pressed, glancing over your shoulder again to see his friends Vernon and Minghao, who were both watching the two of you with poorly hidden smirks. Minghao even gave you a small wave, which only made you more flustered.
Wonwoo finally looked at you, his expression as neutral as ever. “Why not?”
Before you could respond, he nudged the banana milk closer to you. “You like this, right?”
You blinked down at the carton, your brain short-circuiting. “I... yeah, but—”
“Then drink it.” His tone was soft but firm, leaving no room for argument.
Beside you, Mimi’s jaw was practically on the floor. “Okay, what is going on here?” she hissed under her breath, leaning closer to you. “Did you bribe him? Threaten him? Sell your soul to some matchmaking demon?”
“I don’t know!” you whispered back, your voice frantic as you stared at the banana milk like it held all the answers to life’s mysteries.
Wonwoo, clearly aware of the hushed conversation happening beside him, leaned back in his chair and glanced at Mimi. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his calm demeanor never faltering.
Mimi froze, her eyes wide as she realized he was addressing her directly. “Uh, no? Nothing’s wrong,” she stammered, clearly trying to play it cool. “Just... curious, that’s all.”
Wonwoo nodded, satisfied with her answer, and turned his attention back to his notebook, leaving you and Mimi to exchange bewildered looks.
The rest of the class passed in a blur. You were hyper-aware of Wonwoo’s presence beside you, the subtle sound of him turning pages, the occasional shift in his seat, even the faint scent of his cologne. You couldn’t focus on the lecture to save your life, and every time you caught Mimi looking at you, she wiggled her eyebrows in a way that made you want to crawl under the desk.
When the class finally ended, you quickly packed up your things, eager to escape before your brain completely melted. But as you stood up, Wonwoo grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.
“Walk with me,” he said, his tone more of a statement than a question.
You glanced at Mimi, who was watching the scene unfold with wide eyes and a grin that was far too smug for your liking. “Go ahead,” she said, waving you off. “I’ll meet you later.”
Before you could argue, Wonwoo gently tugged your wrist, guiding you toward the door. You followed him, your heart racing as you wondered what on earth he was up to now.
You were half jogging to keep up with Wonwoo’s long strides, his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist as he led you through the campus. It wasn’t like he was walking that fast—it was just that his legs were ridiculously long compared to yours.
Your steps were hurried, almost clumsy, as you tried to keep up. “Wonwoo,” you huffed, glancing at his back, “can you slow down? Not all of us have tree trunks for legs, you know.”
He glanced back at you, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “We’ll be late if I slow down,” he said simply, but his pace did ease up slightly.
It was almost cute—too cute, honestly. The height difference, the way you had to trudge along behind him like a kid trying to keep up. And then there was him: calm, composed, and acting like dragging you to your next class was just a normal, everyday occurrence.
By the time you reached the door of your classroom, you were slightly out of breath. Wonwoo, of course, looked as unbothered as ever. He gently let go of your wrist and gestured for you to go in.
“Go,” he said, his tone soft but firm.
You blinked up at him, confused. “Wait, where are you going?”
“To my class,” he replied, as though it was obvious.
You frowned, gesturing vaguely in the direction you had just come from. “Your class isn’t here?”
“Nope,” he said, already turning on his heel to walk away. “It’s on the other side of campus.”
You stared at him, your jaw dropping. “The opposite side?”
He paused, glancing over his shoulder to meet your incredulous gaze. “Yeah,” he said nonchalantly.
“Then why did you—” You cut yourself off, not even sure how to finish the sentence.
Wonwoo just shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Felt like walking you,” he said simply, as though it was no big deal.
And then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing at the door of your classroom, completely flustered and at a loss for words.
What is he doing to me? you thought, burying your face in your hands. Whatever game Wonwoo was playing, it was definitely working.
This new routine had become so normal that you almost stopped questioning it—not that you were any less flustered every time Wonwoo waited for you after class or walked you across campus. It was just easier to let it happen, even if your heart constantly felt like it was doing somersaults. Mimi teased you endlessly about it, of course, but you’d stopped trying to defend yourself. What could you even say?
One afternoon, just as class was ending, Wonwoo approached you while you were packing up your things. You were expecting him to grab his bag and lead you out of the room like usual, but instead, he hesitated.
“I have something to do after class today,” he said, his voice soft yet direct, his hands casually shoved into his pockets. “I can’t drive you home.”
You blinked up at him, surprised. “Oh, that’s okay. I can just—”
“Wait,” he interrupted, giving you a look that made you freeze. “Are you going to walk home alone?”
You faltered, unsure how to answer. “I mean, it’s not that far...”
He frowned at that, clearly not liking your response. “I don’t like the idea of you walking home alone.”
Your heart did a little flip at his words, but you quickly brushed it off, waving your hand dismissively. “It’s really fine, Wonwoo. I’ve walked home alone before.”
“Not anymore,” he said firmly, pulling out his phone.
You raised an eyebrow as he started dialing, wondering what on earth he was doing. “What are you—”
“Hey,” he said into the phone, cutting you off. “Where are you right now? Can you drive someone home for me?”
You stared at him, dumbfounded. Was he really calling someone just to make sure you didn’t walk home alone?
A few moments later, he hung up and turned back to you. “Vernon and Minghao are nearby. They’ll drive you home.”
“Wait, what?” you asked, your voice rising slightly in disbelief. “Wonwoo, you don’t have to—”
“I already did,” he said simply, grabbing his bag. “They’ll meet you outside in five minutes. Just wait for them, okay?”
You opened your mouth to protest, but the look he gave you stopped you in your tracks. It wasn’t stern, exactly, but it was... serious. Protective. Like he genuinely wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to you.
You sighed, realizing there was no point in arguing. “Fine,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.
He softened at that, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Good. I’ll text you later.”
And with that, he was gone, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind reeling.
When you made your way outside, Vernon and Minghao were waiting by Vernon’s car, both of them looking far too amused for your liking.
“So,” Vernon said, leaning casually against the hood of the car, “you’re the one Wonwoo’s been babying lately.”
You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Can we not talk about this?”
Minghao chuckled, opening the passenger door for you. “Don’t worry, we won’t tease you too much. Wonwoo’s been... different lately, though. It’s kind of interesting to watch.”
“Different how?” you asked, sliding into the car and buckling your seatbelt.
Vernon smirked as he started the engine. “Let’s just say you bring out a side of him we didn’t know existed.”
You couldn’t decide if that made you feel flattered or even more flustered. Either way, as they drove you home, you couldn’t stop thinking about the lengths Wonwoo had gone to just to make sure you were safe. And even though it was embarrassing, a small, shy smile found its way to your lips.
Later that night, just as you were about to settle into bed, your phone buzzed with an incoming call. You blinked at the screen, momentarily stunned when you saw the name.
Wonwoo.
Your heart immediately started racing. He had texted you before, sure, but calling? This was new. Hesitantly, you picked up, bringing the phone to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey.” His voice was deep and smooth, laced with a certain warmth that made you grip your phone a little tighter. “Did you get home okay?”
You felt your lips twitch into a smile despite yourself. “Yeah, Vernon and Minghao dropped me off. You really didn’t have to go that far, you know.”
“I did,” he said simply. “I told you, I don’t like you walking alone.”
There was something about the way he said it—calm, steady, certain—that made your chest feel warm. You bit your lip, trying to ignore the giddy feeling bubbling inside you.
Instead, you changed the subject. “How was your thing after class? You never said what it was.”
“Just something for a group project,” he answered. “It took longer than I expected.”
You hummed in understanding. “That sucks.”
He let out a quiet chuckle. “Yeah. Anyway, how was your day?”
At that, you perked up, launching into a detailed retelling of everything that had happened since class. You told him about Mimi’s latest antics, how she nearly got into an argument with a professor because she was convinced she turned in her assignment when she actually hadn’t. You talked about how Vernon and Minghao teased you the whole car ride home, about the new café you wanted to try, and even the silly little things that made you laugh that day.
Somewhere along the way, you noticed he had gone quiet.
“Wonwoo?” you called, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Are you still there?”
There was a pause, then his voice came through the speaker—soft, almost gentle.
“Go on, I’m listening.”
Your breath caught in your throat.
There was something different about the way he said it. He wasn’t just saying it to fill the silence. He meant it. He liked listening to you.
You felt heat rush to your cheeks, but you pushed forward, finishing your story despite how shy you suddenly felt.
When you finally ran out of things to say, he let out a contented hum. “You should get some rest,” he murmured. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Your heart melted at how soft his voice was. “Okay,” you said quietly.
“Goodnight,” he added, and you swore you could hear the smallest smile in his voice.
“Goodnight, Wonwoo.”
The call ended, and for a moment, you just sat there, staring at your phone. Then, all at once, the emotions hit you like a tidal wave.
You let out a loud groan, grabbed your pillow, and screamed into it.
“What are you doing to me, Jeon Wonwoo?!”
Your pillow, of course, had no answers. But one thing was clear—you were so doomed.
It's a few weeks later, you're at the cafe you frequently hang out when you have free time. The usual, you're on your yapping mode while Wonwoo listens. But then you said something you didn't mean to tell him.
The moment the words left your mouth, you froze.
You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It was just one of those things you only ever admitted to Mimi—how you were so confused about what was going on between you and Wonwoo.
But now, you had just said it. Right in front of him.
Your heart stopped.
Slowly, hesitantly, you turned to look at him.
Wonwoo was already staring at you, that small, amused smile still lingering on his lips—but his eyes held something else. Something unreadable.
For the first time, he didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t tease you, didn’t brush it off. He just watched you, as if he was carefully thinking about what to say.
You scrambled to fix it. “I-I mean—” you let out a nervous laugh, waving your hands. “Forget I said that! It was just, um, something stupid I told Mimi—”
Wonwoo tilted his head, his gaze still locked on you. “You’re confused?” he asked, his voice calm.
You swallowed. “I mean... yeah?”
Silence.
The tension was unbearable. Your heart was practically screaming in your chest.
Finally, he leaned back, eyes flickering to the coffee in front of him. Then, after a long pause, he spoke again.
“What do you want us to be?”
Your breath hitched.
You stared at him, unsure if you heard him correctly. Your mind raced, completely unprepared for the question.
“I—” you fumbled, gripping the edge of your sleeves. “I don’t know...”
Another pause. Then, he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Liar.”
Your head snapped up. “Excuse me?!”
Wonwoo met your gaze again, eyes knowing, almost too knowing. He didn’t look mad. If anything, he looked fond—like he had already figured out the answer before you even realized it yourself.
Your face burned. “I’m not lying—”
“You’ve liked me for a long time.” His voice was so casual, so matter-of-fact, that it left you speechless.
Your entire body tensed.
Oh my god.
He knew.
Of course, he knew.
Everyone knew. You knew he knew. But hearing him say it so bluntly, with no hesitation—it made your stomach flip.
You wanted to disappear.
“I—” You swallowed hard, looking anywhere but at him. “Okay, so maybe that’s true, but—”
“But?” He was still watching you, waiting.
“But I don’t know what you want.” The words came out smaller than you intended, but they were honest. “You... you’re always around now, Wonwoo. You drive me home, you wait for me after class, you listen to me ramble all the time. I just—” You bit your lip. “I don’t know what that means to you.”
Another silence.
Wonwoo didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he reached for his coffee, taking a slow sip. Then, with the same infuriatingly calm expression, he set it back down, resting his chin against his palm as he gazed at you.
And then—
“Isn’t it obvious?”
Your breath caught in your throat.
Your hands clenched under the table, heart pounding in your ears. You knew what he was implying, you felt what he was saying without words, but you still couldn’t believe it.
And Wonwoo—knowing you so well—could see that.
So, he leaned in slightly, his voice quieter this time.
“I wouldn’t do all of this if you weren’t special to me.”
Your brain short-circuited.
You felt like your heart had stopped entirely, like you had forgotten how to breathe.
Jeon Wonwoo—who had spent years acting nonchalant toward you—was now sitting here, looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.
You didn’t know what to say.
So, naturally, you panicked.
“I—um—I need to go to the bathroom!” you blurted out, shoving your chair back as you stood up abruptly.
Wonwoo blinked, a bit startled, before letting out a soft chuckle. “You’re running away?”
“I am not running away!”
“You’re literally running away.”
“I need to pee!” you lied, voice high-pitched as you quickly turned toward the restroom.
Behind you, you heard Wonwoo laugh—actually laugh—before calling out, “I’ll be here when you get back.”
You groaned, covering your face as you rushed away.
This was too much.
Jeon Wonwoo was too much.
When you finally gathered the courage to come back, your heart was still hammering in your chest. You had taken extra minutes in the restroom just to stare at yourself in the mirror, mentally screaming and trying to convince yourself to act normal.
Except—how could you act normal after what just happened?
You cautiously made your way back to the booth, and there he was—Wonwoo, sitting comfortably with one arm draped over the back of the seat, sipping his drink as if he hadn't just dropped that bomb on you.
And then, when he noticed you, his lips curled into that teasing smile.
“You good?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. “Took you a while.”
Your face heated.
“I had to—um, you know—actually pee.” You sat down stiffly, eyes fixed on the table.
“Uh-huh.” He didn’t look convinced at all.
You fidgeted, not knowing what to say. Now that you knew he felt something for you, you had no idea how to act around him. You weren’t prepared for this. You had spent so long assuming your feelings were one-sided that the moment he admitted otherwise, your brain completely shut down.
And Wonwoo—of course—noticed.
He watched you with that quiet amusement, letting the silence stretch between you. Then, after a beat, he spoke again.
“Are you still confused?”
Your breath caught.
You looked up at him—finally meeting his gaze—and you regretted it immediately because he was already staring at you.
His dark eyes, calm and steady, held a kind of certainty that made your stomach flip.
“I—” You swallowed. “I don’t know.”
Wonwoo hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly. “I see.”
You thought that would be the end of it, that he would back off and give you time to process—but no.
Instead, he leaned in.
Not dramatically, not forcefully. Just enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence, enough that your breath hitched and your hands curled into fists in your lap.
Then, in a voice so quiet that it sent a shiver down your spine, he whispered,
“Then tell me…”
His eyes flickered to your lips before locking back onto yours.
“What do you want me to be?”
Your brain short-circuited.
Your body went completely still.
The weight of the question—the meaning behind it—hit you all at once, and suddenly, everything felt too real.
Wonwoo was still watching you, waiting, his face unfairly close to yours. He wasn’t teasing anymore. He wasn’t joking. He was giving you the choice—asking you to decide what this was between you.
And you…
You had no idea how to answer.
Because for the first time ever—
You realized that your silly little crush wasn’t so one-sided after all.
Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that you were sure he could hear it.
What did you want him to be?
For so long, you had thought the answer was simple—you wanted him, you always had. But now that he was actually asking you, the words caught in your throat.
You were frozen, caught between the overwhelming weight of your long-time feelings and the terrifying reality of facing them head-on.
Wonwoo didn’t move. He was still leaning close, his dark eyes fixed on yours, waiting patiently. He wasn’t rushing you, wasn’t pushing you to answer, but that only made it worse.
You wanted to say something, anything, but all that came out was a small, breathless,
“I—”
And then you panicked.
Your body moved before your brain could catch up—you quickly grabbed your drink and took the biggest gulp imaginable, as if that would somehow wash away the moment.
It didn’t.
Instead, Wonwoo let out a quiet chuckle, finally leaning back, giving you space.
“You’re cute when you panic.”
You almost choked.
“I’m not panicking,” you sputtered, setting your drink down with a little too much force.
His lips twitched, clearly not believing you. “So, what’s your answer?”
“I—” You exhaled, gripping the hem of your shirt. “This is a lot, okay? You just—you never made it seem like you liked me before, and now you’re—” You gestured vaguely at him. “—doing all this and it’s messing with my brain.”
Wonwoo tilted his head, looking at you with quiet curiosity. “I never made it seem like I liked you?”
You gave him a look.
He hummed, gaze flickering downward for a split second before meeting your eyes again. “That’s not true.”
Your brows furrowed. “What?”
“I just… don’t show it the way you do.” He said it so casually, so matter-of-fact, as if it was something you should’ve known all along.
You stared at him, your brain struggling to process his words.
And then, as if to prove his point, Wonwoo reached out—his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment before he grabbed your wrist, gently pulling your hand closer to him.
Your breath hitched.
“Do you really think I would’ve let just anyone take care of me the way you did?” His voice was lower now, softer, as his thumb absentmindedly traced slow circles against the back of your hand. “I noticed, you know. Every time you saved me a seat, every time you gave me something without expecting anything in return.”
You swallowed thickly.
Wonwoo glanced down at your intertwined hands, as if realizing he was still holding you. But instead of letting go, he gave your fingers a small, almost hesitant squeeze.
“I didn’t ignore it because I didn’t care,” he admitted. “I just… didn’t know how to respond.”
The confession made something in your chest tighten.
Wonwoo had always been unreadable to you—his quiet, nonchalant demeanor making it impossible to tell what he was thinking. But now, sitting here with him, listening to him actually talk about his feelings, you realized that he wasn’t cold at all. He was just careful.
He let out a quiet sigh. “But when you stopped…” His grip on your hand tightened slightly. “I didn’t like that.”
You blinked. “You didn’t?”
He shook his head. “No.”
It was such a simple response, yet it made your heart race all over again.
There was a small beat of silence before he spoke again, quieter this time.
“I missed you.”
Your chest ached.
All this time, you had thought your feelings were a burden to him—that he barely noticed you, let alone missed you. But here he was, telling you otherwise, proving you wrong in the gentlest way possible.
Your fingers curled around his, gripping back.
“…I missed you too.”
Wonwoo smiled, the kind of small, rare smile that made your stomach flip.
“So,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, “are you still confused?”
You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck. “…Maybe.”
He chuckled. “Then should I make it clearer?”
You sucked in a breath when he leaned in again, just close enough that you could see the soft curve of his lips, the warmth in his eyes.
His gaze flickered to your mouth, then back to your eyes.
“What do you want me to be?” he asked again, voice barely above a whisper.
"Do I have to answer now?"
Wonwoo just smiled at your question. That soft, knowing kind of smile that made your stomach do flips.
“Take your time,” he said simply, "You waited for me, without expecting anything. It's my turn now" he tells you.
You could barely meet his eyes, your fingers twitching against his. “I just—this is a lot, okay?”
“I know.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles in a soothing motion. “That’s why I’m letting you decide.”
That didn’t help at all.
You groaned internally, dropping your forehead onto the table in defeat. “You’re making this so much worse, Jeon Wonwoo.”
He chuckled, and you could feel his amusement. “Am I?”
“Yes.”
“You’re the one blushing like crazy.”
“Shut up.”
He laughed again, and you hated how much you loved the sound.
After a moment, you hesitantly lifted your head, still unable to look at him directly. “…So, you’re not gonna, like, be weird about this?”
“Nope.”
“You’re not gonna pressure me?”
“No.”
“You’re just gonna… wait?”
Wonwoo leaned back against the booth, his hand still comfortably wrapped around yours. “As long as you need me to, as long as you want me here”
Your breath hitched.
Oh.
You bit your lip, feeling your heart squeeze at his words.
“…Okay,” you mumbled.
“Okay?”
You nodded shyly, finally—finally—glancing up at him. “I’ll think about it.”
His lips twitched, amused. “Good.”
And then, like it was the easiest thing in the world, Wonwoo lifted your hand to his lips and pressed the lightest, softest kiss against your knuckles.
Your brain completely shut down.
“You—” You squeaked, yanking your hand back as if you had just been electrocuted.
Wonwoo just smirked.
“Take your time,” he repeated, looking way too satisfied with himself. “I’ll wait.”
And you knew—you knew—that no matter how much you tried to think about it, your heart had already decided.
#fic#au#fluff#svt#seventeen#seventeen imagine#seventeen scenario#seventeen fluff#svt imagine#seventeen wonwoo#wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#svt fluff#svt slowburn#svt x readers#wonwoo imagine#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo scenario#wonwoo x reader
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જ⁀➴°⋆ Love Me Like A Friend
When Katseye’s main dancer, Daniela Avanzini makes her debut, no one is aware of her secret friends-with-benefits arrangement with chart-topping producer and singer Y/N L/N—a relationship they’ve kept under wraps due to Daniela’s strict no-dating rule. However, as rumors circulate about Y/N’s supposed affairs with other women, and her enigmatic song lyrics appear to reflect Daniela’s mixed signals, tension starts to build. With public speculation intensifying and jealousy brewing behind closed doors, their closely guarded secret is on the verge of unraveling, compelling them to face what they truly mean to one another.
chapter 37 - tsunami
Daniela had never been good at saying no. It was in her nature to say yes—to managers, to friends, to strangers who barely knew her name but wanted a piece of her anyway. It was easier that way, easier than disappointing people, easier than explaining why she hesitated when commitment knocked on her door.
But somehow, the one person she could never say yes to was Y/N.
Maybe because saying yes meant giving in to feelings she wasn’t ready to acknowledge. Maybe because letting Y/N in meant watching her leave one day. Maybe because Daniela had never been good at love, at holding on to something real, and she didn’t want to hurt Y/N the way she knew she would.
But she did anyway.
And now, Y/N was gone.
It shouldn’t hurt this much. They were never supposed to be serious—just friends with benefits, just stolen nights and unspoken words. But somewhere along the way, things got messy. Somewhere along the way, Y/N started looking at her like she was something more, and Daniela let her. She let her, knowing she could never offer the same in return.
And yet, when she saw the cold finality in Y/N’s expression that night, it was like the air had been sucked out of her lungs.
Daniela wished she had just stayed in her room. She wished she had ignored the invite, had kept her phone tucked away instead of letting her face be captured in that one picture—the picture that ruined everything. She never knew how powerful the media could be, how a simple misunderstanding could tear her life apart. She had been caught at the park, someone was walking beside her, a guy reaching out to hold her hand, it was nothing, just a friend leading the way, but the internet didn’t see it that way. Neither did Y/N.
But it was never just about that one night.
Daniela had always known Y/N was patient—more patient than she deserved. Y/N had endured every whisper, every grainy instagram story, every moment that should have sent her running. Because Y/N believed in her. Believed in the unspoken explanations, the quiet reassurances, the idea that Daniela would always come back.
And she had.
Until Y/N had enough.
She had never felt this kind of loneliness before.
And the worst part? She hadn’t even realized how much she had been hurting Y/N all along. How every mixed signal, every hesitation, every night spent pretending their feelings weren’t real had chipped away at something fragile.
Y/N had always been good at understanding her. At waiting. But patience had its limits, and Daniela had taken too much for granted.
She didn’t even know if there was a way back.
Her fingers hovered over her messages, muscle memory tempting her to type out something—anything—that could fix this.
But Y/N wouldn’t see it.
Not anymore.
Maybe that was the part that hurt the most.
Daniela had spent so long running from the idea of love, convincing herself that keeping things casual meant she wouldn’t have to lose anything. That keeping Y/N at arm’s length would somehow protect them both.
But now she knew better.
Love wasn’t just about holding on—it was about showing up.
And she had failed.
The city outside her window blurred as she fought back tears, her mind looping the same memories over and over—late-night drives, shared laughter, Y/N’s hand on hers, the way she always knew when Daniela needed comfort without her having to say a word.
There was no one else she wanted.
No one else who made her feel the way Y/N did.
She had been a coward.
Daniela had spent so much time convincing herself she didn’t need Y/N.
Now, she wasn’t sure how to exist without her.
She let out a breath, shaky and uneven, gripping her phone tighter. Y/N was done with her. That much was clear.
But Daniela had never been the kind of person to give up easily.
And she wasn’t about to start now.
⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ masterlist next
taglist: @sunshinez4 @haerinkisser @altaroflux @kristalag@1luvkarina @p1hbrook @xochitlisbest @peanutbutterlover05 @goofymickeyr @ourlovesarang @meizinisnumberone @linnnsworld @bandaidss320 @meiphobic @yeetaberry127 @urmom2314 @chaepu @leotapes @gtfoiydlyj @ratzeye @cassiespoiler @wtfisthisnoclueman @bowforgodjihyo @skz-xii
a/n: very recommended to the song cuz it hits me in the feels while i was writing it.
#katseye#katseye x reader#katseye smau#wlw#katseye x female reader#daniela avanzini#daniela katseye#daniela avanzini x reader#daniela avanzini x female reader#smau#daniela x female reader#daniela avanzini katseye#daniela x reader#daniela smau#x reader#sapphic#daniela avanzini x masc reader#daniela avanzini x fem reader#katseye x masc reader#daniela avanzini smau#daniela avanzini x masc!reader#daniela avanzini x fem!reader#katseye imagines#masc reader#fem reader#gxg#love me like a friend
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Say my Name, As if it’s Drowning in the Tide - Jayce x Reader (Chapter 2/End)
Summary: But Jayce is weak. So unbelievably weak. And the voice of temptation in the back of his mind insists you will never want him the same way he does you. It’s cowardly, and it’s spineless, and it goes against everything he’s ever been taught to value. Yet none of it seems to matter when he looks at you, bare in front of him, hair wet and sticking to your skin in heavy curls like a siren in the stormy sea. He’d sell his soul if it meant having you, and in more ways than one, he is.
Pairing: Jayce x Reader Modern AU, one-sided Viktor x Reader
Word Count: 8.2K
Warning: Explicit
Tags: Hate Sex, Emotional Roleplay, One-sided Attraction, Switch!Jayce, Rough Sex, Biting, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (Female receiving), Eating Out, Angst, First Time, Vaginal Sex, Size Kink, Jayce Has A Big Dick, Self-Hate, Praise Kink, Body Worship, Crying
Notes: A LITTLE LATE BUT AS PROMISED, I’m publishing the ending to this fic before the end of January (and the beginning of my surprise Valentine’s Day event 👀). This one is gonna be quite the emotional ride, so better strap in, fellas (PS: I SWEAR I love Jayce with all my heart I just love toying with his heart because I’m a monster)
(Chapter 1)
“Do you want to know what Viktor likes or not? Because I haven't told you anything about what he wants in bed.”
‘Fuck you’, you wish you could spit back at Jayce. ‘What would you even know about what anyone wants in bed, you pathetic two-pump loser?’
It's extremely tempting, if only to see his face go crimson in frustration and embarrassment again, but you know his fragile little ego might not survive it. And no matter how much you'd like to deny it, he's right: you do want to know about what Viktor likes.
You want to know every single thing about Viktor so badly, it hurts.
You've fallen for him in the same way a forest fire burns: slowly, and then all at once, overwhelming, relentless, all-consuming. It's gotten almost painful to be near him in the last few months, your stomach contorting angrily whenever he gives you a witty smile or laughs at your idiotic banter. The desire for him to look at you, and only you, is searing your skin a little more each passing day; so much so that you wonder if there will be anything left of you but ashes by the time you muster the courage to confess.
And God, do you want to: the need to tell him how you feel has become a constant itch that's as painful as it’s unending. All it would take to quench these all-consuming flames are three little words, three measly syllables, a laughable eight letters.
Yet you just can’t say them.
Because underneath all the bravado you're always putting on, you're nothing more than a hypocrite, who is absolutely terrified of hearing his answer. Of seeing nothing but compassionate pity in those soothing golden eyes of his, a gentle ‘I'm sorry’ forming on his lips, and burning you alive once and for all.
So, you wait for a sign from Viktor: a word, a touch, anything that would make the risk of confessing more bearable. As a born engineer, you've always been pragmatic and logical to a fault; you simply won’t jeopardize your relationship with him based on insignificant data and hopeful speculations. Maybe it's nothing more than a spineless justification to let yourself wither away, but it's the best you, and your burning little heart, can do.
After all, something is comforting about staying in the unknown— in that state of limbo where there's no real acknowledgment of the nature of your feelings, or his. But the fire that is Viktor is relentless, ever burning, and it consumes you inch by inch, growing every minute you spend with him working side by side at the Academy.
It worsens more each time he remembers insignificant details about you: how you like a touch of extra cinnamon in your morning latte, how much you hate seeing your middle name used in the lab's paperwork, how you always fidget with your jewelry when you're stressed— little habits and quirks he somehow never misses or fails to offer a helping hand with.
You've been in love before, but never like this; and you doubt you ever will again. Viktor is the type of person you can only meet once in your life, a shooting star that graces the human eye every thousand years, just to disappear the second you look away, before you ever get the chance to tell it it's beautiful.
And then, there's Jayce.
Jayce, who looks nothing like Viktor, with his muscular frame, perfectly symmetrical smile, and sun-kissed skin.
Jayce, who is nothing like Viktor, with his annoyingly booming voice, total lack of social awareness, and oversized ego. Whose very presence signifies, at best, an incoming headache, and at worst, endless screaming matches and arguments over the most minor details.
Things hadn't always been that way with him. There had been admiration, at first, back when you had been accepted as dean Cecil B. Heimmerdinger’s newest pupil, and the fourth member of his elite team of post-graduates. He had more than his fair share of accolades for a man in his mid-twenties: many of his papers were cited in the highest calibre of academic journals, and he had a list of awards and scholarships almost as long as your arm. You had truly believed you would learn a lot from him.
It barely took a week with him for all your naive and bright-eyed delusions to come crashing down. Behind the pretty face and the accomplishments was nothing but arrogance and disregard for all the discipline you valued. It all came so maddeningly easy to him— school, work, looks—like effort was beneath him, or even worse, completely foreign to him.
He hadn’t been shy with his interest in you for a second, either. Between the corny pickup lines and the obvious stares at the meat of your thighs, Jayce hadn’t been quite subtle; but you had no endearment for men like him. A pretty boy whose grandiose romantic gestures were clearly an attempt to quickly get into your pants, only to leave you behind the moment your novelty had worn off. The type to take everything for granted, including women’s affection, and to never have heard a single ‘no’ in their life.
There was no way you were going to fall for it.
Yet the more drily you rejected his advances, the more Jayce seemed interested in you. It had to simply be the novelty of someone finally rejecting him and seeing his true nature that fascinated him. But it wasn’t love that he felt for you; it couldn't be.
People like him could love no one but themselves.
He would glance at you with desperate puppy eyes whenever he thought you weren’t looking, a shiny toy out of his reach. Every now and then, on one of his trashed design drafts, you’d find tiny pencilled sketches of your face with a surprising level of accuracy. He clearly took some pleasure in arguing with you over everything and nothing, and you'd lie if you said that you never got some enjoyment out of that dynamic.
You had let his resolve weaken you once, and only once, early into your arrival at the lab, and long before you had developed any feelings for the then much more reserved Viktor.
And it had been a mistake.
—
Those first few months had been gruelling for you: as the newest recruit, you did much more dull and tedious paperwork than any practical or creative assignments in the lab. It was hard, and the long hours of staring at nothing but the bright blue light of your computer screen made you dizzy; but you wouldn't have exchanged it for the world.
You had earned your place here by never being complacent, by refusing to see any task as below you or too difficult to accomplish. You had been a diligent student under the harshest of conditions throughout your life, and you would continue reaching higher and higher by working hard, and always proving your worth.
One day soon, you’d be standing at the very top of it all, with your wildest dreams accomplished; and it would be with the knowledge that you had made it there entirely of your own merit.
You had been surprised and apprehensive to see an email from Professor Heimerdinger that morning, requesting that you pass by his office. Heimerdinger was very much not the type to plan out discussions, preferring to randomly pop in and out of the lab to hold impromptu, casual meetings, so the atypically formal message had made you feel uneasy.
You were under the impression you had integrated into the program quite well, and that you had begun nicely bonding with your two lab partners. Although you had had strong reservations about Jayce and his attitude, and were still extremely on the fence about your opinion of him, his puppy-like charm had started to wear you out, and you had agreed to go get coffee with him during that weekend.
You had made it very clear it wasn't a romantic encounter, but a team-bonding exercise: an occasion for him to prove some of your unfavourable impressions of him wrong. Then, maybe, and only maybe, you'd consider the idea of a date with him; but he didn't need to know that yet, lest he’d let it go to his head.
For now, your focus was only on your appointment with Heimerdinger, and the anxious knot in the pit of your stomach.
You knocked on his door gently before coming in, finding the short, older man perched on top of a small ladder, nose-deep in one of the many books that lined every inch of the walls. The countless volumes adorned his office like multicoloured bricks, giving a cozy, yet slightly claustrophobic feel to the small room.
“You asked to see me, professor ?” you cleared your throat, attempting to steady your voice to appear more composed.
Heimerdinger raised his head in surprise, likely so entranced in the huge textbook that dwarfed his small frame that he hadn’t heard you come into his literary fortress—or even remembered he had scheduled a meeting with you.
“Ah, yes, dear girl, come on in and take a seat!” he exclaimed, closing the book with a loud ‘thwack’. He struggled a bit to place it back on one of the shelves as you sat to face his desk, eyeing his precarious position wearily. He, thankfully, managed to make his way down the creaking ladder without incident, landing on his feet with a slight wobble.
“The great, dangerous heights one has to reach to gain knowledge,” he mumbled pensively, a chubby hand running through his wild tuft of dusty blonde hair. “One would think that with twenty years of service here, the finance department could afford to invest in a less perilous stepping stool.”
He made his way to the other side of the desk, settling comfortably in his pillowy chair. He adjusted his thick, round glasses, his expression indecipherable behind the imposing white mustache that covered most of his lower face.
You immediately let yourself fear the worst, your firm conviction that you had been doing well since your arrival crumbling like a house of cards.
“Have I been performing… below your expectations, sir?” you asked abruptly, the anxious ball in your stomach tightening on itself.
Heimerdinger cocked his head to the side in confusion, frowning, his thick eyebrows shifting down like two fuzzy caterpillars.
“Now why would you say such a silly thing? You’ve been going above and beyond, from everything I’ve seen and heard,” he complimented with a reassuring smile. He gave you a sly wink, and you felt your shoulders relax, the tension leaving your body like a puff of smoke. “I have an eye for exceptionally talented people. I wouldn't have recruited you if I hadn’t been wholeheartedly convinced of your capacities.”
“Thank you, sir,” you exhaled, releasing a sharp breath you hadn't realized you were holding. So it was all a misunderstanding then. Everything was alright. “May I ask why you’ve requested to see me this morning, then?”
Heimerdinger only hummed as an answer, opening one of his desk's drawers and digging through a visibly messy pile of documents. “Aha!” he exclaimed, pulling out a single sheet of paper with a flourish, and handing it to you with no further explanation.
You grabbed it carefully, quickly looking it over with growing confusion: the bold title only stated your name, next to the words PROJECT TRANSFER.
“Here you go, all signed and completed,” Heimerdinger added with a casual wave of the hand. “I would have simply sent it to you by email, but protocol requires you to sign it in front of me. You know how bureaucrats get,” he rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.
The more snippets you caught of the document, the less you understood. ‘Personal request made by the student to be discharged from desk work duty for the Wyatt Project — Approved by team supervisor — Reason for request: Lack of affinity with the project and given tasks — Signatures of department head, team supervisor, and concerned student below’.
“I’m sorry, what… is this?” you asked slowly in hesitation.
The Wyatt project had been the most tiresome and dull assignment you had been given as of yet at the Academy, and although you often complained about it in your off time, you had never made any sort of official demand to be transferred from it.
“The discharge paper for the Wyatt project,” the older man explained, seemingly surprised by your lack of enthusiasm or recognition. “I was told you didn’t enjoy the busy work much and would prefer a change of pace. I’ll be putting you on the assignment corrections for the undergrads, which should be much simpler and less time-consuming.”
Your mind began racing chaotically, attempting to puzzle how a few unserious, nitpicky rants could have possibly made their way as an official demand to the dean himself. You barely registered the empathic nod he gave you as he cleared his voice, a sparkle of something akin to remorse in his eyes.
“Perhaps I was requesting a lot of you for your very first semester here, with an assignment as advanced as this. My apologies, dear girl. But do know this transfer is a rare exception, and I will require more receptiveness from you for future tasks.”
The slight pitying look he gave you made you feel like throwing up.
You'd disappointed him.
You had failed the expectations of the man who took a chance on you as his youngest pupil, and you weren't even aware of how you had done it.
“I—I mean yes, the Wyatt project is a lot of busy work, but I never—who told you I asked to be taken out?” you managed to stutter.
Who? Who could have possibly gone so out of their way to ruin the reliable and efficient reputation you were working so hard to build here? Your mind came up blank, reviewing the few people you might have said anything to, and not finding a single one who would so blatantly jeopardize your fragile new position.
“Why, Jayce,” Heimerdinger said as if it was entirely obvious. “As your team leader, he gives me monthly reports of the status of each project you're involved with. He was quite adamant about putting you off the Wyatt and onto an easier project.”
A flash of understanding crossed his face at the sight of your decomposing expression.
“Has… Jayce not discussed this with you?”
No. No, he hadn’t.
You barely remembered the walk out of Heimerdinger's office after that, fuelled only by a mixture of incomprehension and betrayal. With each step, it shifted into something much stronger, a fury burning from your core directed not only at him, but at yourself.
You slammed the door of the lab open, the plexiglass banging against the frame with a dull thud:
“How fucking dare you?!”
Jayce was thankfully alone in the lab, but even if Viktor had been here, you weren't sure you would have managed to control the outpour of anger. The man looked up from his notes in surprise:
“Woah—wait—excuse me?” Jayce stammered, visibly more confused than insulted.
“Who do you think you are to decide what I can do or not?!” you seethed, barreling rapidly towards him. “How dare you go around asking things in my name to our supervisor?”
He got up from his chair hurridly, eyes wide, raising his hands in a placating gesture as if you were a wild animal ready to attack.
"Relax, I really have no idea—" he started hastily, only to stop mid-sentence as realization dawned on him. His brows knit together in confusion. "Wait... is this about the Wyatt project?”
"What else could it possibly be about?!" you yelled, your voice slicing through the silence of the empty lab. Under different circumstances—if this wasn't about your entire career here—you might have remembered that your outburst could easily carry into the corridor, reaching the ears of other students, and even possibly teachers. But blind frustration consumed you, eclipsed only by the raw, aching sense of betrayal you felt towards him.
“But you’ve been telling me and Viktor for weeks how much you hate it,” Jayce argued, frowning, his lips reducing into a thin line. He was genuinely perplexed, like the very concept that he hadn’t done you a service wasn't registering in his mind. “You’re the one who said you wished you could do more work in the lab with us!”
“So you went over my head and told the fucking head of the department I was too lazy to complete the work he gave me?” you retorted without missing a beat. You hadn't realized how close you had gotten to him, your balled fists barely a foot away from his increasingly punchable face. You could smell the artificial scent of body spray off him, and you wrinkled your nose in disgust. “Do you have any idea how unreliable and ungrateful that makes me look as the new girl?! I haven’t even had this position for six months!”
Understanding slowly dawned across his face, and his expression softened, regret pooling in his chartreuse eyes.
"I was just trying to help, I didn't—" he began, his voice gentle and remorseful, but you weren't even close to being done with him.
“Help?” you spat, the word dripping with venom. “Help how? By making me look like I don’t want to work hard? Like I'm a spoiled brat who goes on dates with her team supervisor to get easy jobs? What, do you think I slept my way up here?”
“I’d never—I thought you felt too shy to talk to Heimerdinger, I just wanted to give you a hand as my junior! How is that a bad thing?!” he protested, frustration creeping into his voice.
“It's a bad thing because it means you don't fucking believe in me!” you shot back.
You felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, willing them gone and clinging to what little pride you had left.
“It means you think I'm too weak or too stupid to do the same work you and Viktor did when you started. That I'm not even enough of an adult to handle my own shit—that I need some random guy at work to baby me!”
He flinched at the harshness of your words, the hurt on his face unmistakable. His mouth opened as if to speak up again, eyes carrying the wounded look of a kicked puppy, but you didn’t let him, refusing to let his charm ever fool you again.
“I don't care if it's because I'm younger than you, or because I'm a woman, or because you think I'm attractive,” you snapped. “I'm staying on the Wyatt project until it's completed, like I signed up to. I won't let you mess up everything I've worked so hard for.”
You took a step back, your feelings too overwhelming to stand staring at him a minute longer. Your instinct about Jayce—that he was as spoiled as he was self-righteous— had been correct from the start, yet you felt no pride in that knowledge; there was only the bitter taste of disappointment.
Your voice was sharp and unforgiving when you spoke up again:
“Do me a favour. Next time you want to help, don’t.
—
And yet, here you are now, in a shitty motel in the middle of nowhere, butt naked in a cramped shower with him, the feeling of his tepid cum still lingering on your thigh.
Jayce Talis wants to help again, and you’d be an absolute fool to accept, or to give him more ground than you already have.
But things are different, this time.
You want his help. You need his help.
You know better now than to believe he feels anything resembling real affection for you. His obsession isn’t love: it’s a fixation born from entitlement, from the relentless need to possess what he’s been denied. You’re nothing more than a challenge, the one girl who refuses to fall for the Academy’s golden boy, and that only makes him want you more. But once he’s had his victory, once this game is over, the thrill will fade, and he’ll lose all interest in pretending he ever cared.
So what’s the harm in saying yes, then? It’s not like either of you will come out of this with any hurt feelings. It’s the same as back then, with him taking you for the easy fool he can be a knight in shining armour for, solving your issues like the great man he is. But at least, this time, he’s had the decency to ask you, first.
"Fine, whatever," you finally grumble, your gaze snapping back to his. A flicker of something unreadable passes through his expression, but you ignore it. It doesn't matter to you, just as you won’t matter to him. "What’s next, Talis?”
—
The issue is that Jayce really hasn't thought that far ahead.
His first and main goal was to distract you from how he had been so stupidly eager, he came without your hands ever even touching his cock. But now, he needs to come up with a next step—fast—before you see right through his bluff and realize he knows far less about Viktor’s sex life than he has so confidently let on.
To his credit, Viktor has always been intensely private about his personal life, even with his closest friends. In all their years of partnership, he had never once introduced Jayce to a girlfriend or boyfriend; never even hinted at a crush, or a stranger who might be something more. No matter how many times Jayce had prodded and teased him in their younger years, Viktor had never let anything slip.
But there is one thing, a small, passing remark, that Jayce does remember.
Back in their very first year together at the Academy, unravelling the enigma that was Viktor had been one of Jayce’s greatest challenges. The man revealed very little about himself and it seemed like science and logic were the sole foundations of his world, an unwavering structure built on nothing but reason and precision.
But every now and then, Viktor would do or say something so entirely unexpected, it shattered any understanding Jayce thought he had of him.
One of those moments had been Viktor’s quiet but undeniable fascination with the arts.
Jayce remembers a particular night, one that has somehow stayed in the back of his mind since. Sitting beside Viktor in the dim glow of the Academy’s theater, watching a play neither of them had particularly planned to see, he had expected boredom, maybe even a few sarcastic quips. Instead, Viktor had been captivated. His sharp eyes, usually so calculating while they worked in the lab, were alight with something softer, something close to wonder, as if he were seeing an entirely new world unfold before him.
"Do you not think it's nice? The music of someone's voice," Viktor had hummed afterward, his tone distant, contemplative, like he was still half-lost in the echoes of the performance.
Jayce had shrugged, stretching his legs out lazily in the cramped theatre seat. Art had never really been his thing—too abstract, too confusing. "I don’t know," he replied casually, "AI is getting pretty good at mimicking it."
Viktor had turned his head slightly, casting Jayce a look that was equal parts amused and disappointed, as if he couldn’t decide whether the comment was genuinely naive or just tragically shortsighted.
Viktor had merely tutted in disapproval, shaking his head. "The human soul, Jayce. The emotions, the passion, the sorrow—that is what a voice carries. We may build a thousand algorithms that reproduce it, down to the subtlest change in tone or pitch… but it will always be missing that.”
Jayce had gone quiet after that, letting the conversation die in the soft hum of the crowd leaving the theater. He didn’t get it then; maybe he does now.
“Voices,” Jayce blurts out, the thought snapping into place like a last-minute save. “Viktor likes hearing people’s voices. I think it’s because of how personal they are to everyone? Something about that just… makes him happy.”
He’s grasping at straws now, but it’s something, and that’s already better than staying silent with his mouth agape like an idiot.
“Maybe, um—maybe you could practice what you’d say to him? The kind of sounds you’d make?” His pulse stutters, but before he can stop himself. “I-I think he’d probably want to eat you out.”
It’s a blatant, bold-faced lie. A shot in the dark dressed up as certainty.
Because that’s not what Viktor said. That’s not even remotely what Viktor said.
It’s what Jayce wants to do.
But he’s already in too deep, tangled in his own bullshit with no way to back out. If he’s going to lie, he might as well be a little selfish about it.
You glare at him with that sharp, dissecting stare, the kind that strips away pretense and weighs his words like they’re under the lens of a microscope. Even though you’re shorter than him, there’s no mistaking who’s in control here; the balance of power tilts undeniably in your favour, and you have him fully, wholly under your thumb.
And he knows it, knows it from the tension in his own shoulders, from the way his lips uncontrollably twitch, from the slight tremor in his voice. He would do anything for this, for you, and he’s not foolish enough to think it doesn’t show. But this moment isn’t about him—not about how much he wants you, or how much he’d give to close the remaining space between your bodies.
It’s about you, and how much you want Viktor.
Jayce already knows your answer before it even leaves your lips.
“Alright. Just…”
You hesitate for just a second, as if there's something else you want to say; a glimpse of uncharacteristic doubt flashes across your face. But it vanishes just as quickly as it came, swallowed by that effortless, burning confidence. Whatever words you might have had for him go up in smoke.
"Forget it. Get on your knees."
Jayce certainly doesn’t need to be told twice.
It’s almost embarrassing how fast he drops, the wet tile beneath him offering no grace. He nearly slips twice as he contorts his broad frame awkwardly, trying to find a stable position. The cramped width of the glass panels press against his shoulders, making his movements all the more difficult.
You tsk at him, unimpressed and visibly growing impatient. The glare you send down his way is all the incentive he needs to stop fumbling and settle as best he can, even as the mosaic tiles dig uncomfortably into his knees.
One of your hands settles on his head, slightly brushing the damp strands of dark hair, and he leans into the touch; it's probably the closest thing to praise he's ever gotten from you.
"Don’t make me regret this," you warn him.
He grins, throwing you a wink with far more cockiness than he actually feels. "Regret is my middle name, baby."
Before you can shoot back a biting remark, his hands are on your hips, firm and certain, pulling you flush against his face. The heat of his breath ghosts over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.
If this had been different, if it had been real, he would have taken his time. He would have traced every detail of your body with his hands, his lips, his tongue, committing every inch to memory like something sacred. He would have worshipped you slowly, methodically, with the kind of reverence you deserve.
But that's not the case.
Instead, he opts for savagely peppering your inner thighs with warm, rough kisses, just barely letting his teeth graze your skin. You hum in approval, the hand on his scalp petting him like a puppy. The rush of confidence that goes through his body is indescribable, and he makes the bites more insistent, leaving burn-like marks on your skin.
You tug at his hair, just enough to be insistent, but not enough to hurt. For once, he understands you immediately, without you uttering a single word. It’s a little strange —almost ironic— that conversations with you always spiral into arguments, yet here, without speaking at all, you're both in perfect sync.
He obeys the silent command and moves his mouth where you’re guiding him, never pausing the messy, open-mouth kisses against your lower body. It's no surprise that your pussy is as pretty and warm as the rest of you. The hair has been recently trimmed but has grown just enough to tickle against his face as he buries his face comfortably between your legs.
You twitch in his grip the second his tongue touches your folds, but you don't let out a sound. He’s not about to be beaten so easily, though: he gives a strong, assured lick against your clit, and this time you can't suppress a small moan:
“Ah…”
Oh, and God, it's an addictive sound, one that he yearns to hear again, immediately. He copies his movement once, twice, thrice, dizzy off the little vulnerable pants you make under your breath. He's like a starved man, lapping at the fresh water from the shower on your skin just to catch a hint of your juices.
“Hngh-” you inhale sharply when his tongue probes your hole. Your grip on his hair tightens, fingers tangling deeper as you pull him closer. It’s probably just instinct, a mechanical reaction to the rush of pleasure sparking through you; but for a split second, the pressure of your touch feels intentional. Like you want him. And that foolish, aching thought makes his poor little heart clench when you speak again:
“V-Viktor!”
A single word from you, just one name, and reality crashes back down on him like a tidal wave.
He freezes, his tongue flat against your clit, and the warmth of the moment vanishes in an instant, replaced by something sharp and unforgiving. The water hitting his exposed skin from the showerhead suddenly feels ice-cold, seeping into his bones.
This isn’t right. He knows it. And he’s certain you do, too.
But you’ve both chosen this.
You’re as guilty as he is, using him just as much as he’s using you. It’s a pathetic, hollow imitation of the intimacy he truly craves, the kind where your fingers intertwine with his without hesitation, where your voice murmurs words of love meant only for him, where your eyes remain wide open and locked into his.
But there’s no coming back from having tasted you. A single bite of the forbidden fruit, and he’s undone: his sense of judgment shattered, his pride discarded, his dignity crumbling beneath your touch. If this is all you’re willing to give him, if he’s nothing more than a placeholder for someone else—so be it.
He’ll take whatever scraps of affection you’ll offer, no matter how empty. No matter who it’s really meant for.
You let out another wonton moan when he shifts again, his teeth lightly scrapping your clit, and he lets himself wonder what you're imagining behind those closed eyes.
Granted, the who isn’t much of a mystery; that part is painfully obvious. But how?
How does it play out in your head? Is it tender and slow, filled with whispered confessions and gentle touches? Or is it something desperate, something raw, something that strips you down to nothing but need? Against his better judgment and all common sense, he can’t help speculating.
Viktor would probably not enjoy staying on his knees for very long; maybe you're picturing yourself laying in bed with him, his face nestled snuggly between the meat of your thighs. You’d have a smile on your lips, your sparkling eyes wide open, eager to take in every second of the moment. Viktor would probably chuckle at your eagerness, amused by the contrast of how firm and unyielding you are with everyone else, yet how effortlessly you melt in his presence.
“Viktor, please… please…!” you almost beg as he fucks you on his tongue, your hips rhythmically moving along to his pace, moans raw and unfiltered, forgetting about the thin walls and your likely disgruntled neighbours with how lost you are in your fantasy.
Jealousy begins to rear its ugly head in the pit of his stomach, a dangerous thing to start feeling during something that’s supposed to be pure make-believe. But no matter how hard he tries to swallow it down, it lingers, festering beneath the surface.
He can’t help it, spoiled brat that he is. He always wants more. Nothing is ever enough.
His childish ego whispers that he’s the one making you squirm under his touch, that for all your longing, for all the thoughts clouding your mind, he’s the one here. He’s the one touching you, drawing those needy sounds from your lips.
It's his name you should be saying.
He's gotten hard again, the touch of your skin blending with the smell of your body, the sharp taste of your wetness making his head spin. He's humping the air like a dog in heat, aching for any sort of relief. He wants to stay between your legs for as long as humanly possible, let you use him, but he's not sure how much longer he can handle hearing someone else’s name over, and over again.
He manages to pull away from the vice-like grip of your thighs, mouth coated with your juices. He looks up at you, standing above him like a goddess, surrounded by a halo of water from the showerhead.
"I really, really need you right now, baby," he breathes out, voice raw with desperation. He knows he should have some dignity left, some shred of self-respect; but it's all long gone. At this point, he doesn't care what you think of him anymore, not when he’s fallen this low. “Can I please fuck you right here?”
Your eyes flutter open, slow and reluctant, like it physically pains you to be pulled from whatever reverie you were lost in. For a moment, you just look at him, considering his expression, the firm grip on his head easing slightly.
“I…” you start hesitantly. There it is again, just like earlier: something uncertain in your gaze, lost, vulnerable. It’s jarring, unsettling in a way he can’t quite name. It doesn’t belong there, not in your eyes—eyes that are usually so bright, so sure and unwavering.
"Bed. Viktor wouldn't be comfortable here," you mumble under your breath, refusing to meet his eyes. "And don’t call me baby."
Jayce exhales a shaky sigh of relief. He doesn’t argue, doesn’t tease—just moves.
He scrambles to his feet so fast he nearly slips again, catching himself just in time. With a sharp nudge of his elbow, he shuts off the faucet before effortlessly scooping you up from the wet tiles. You yelp in protest, but he ignores it, already carrying you out of the bathroom, his grip firm yet careful.
The second your back hits the mattress, he’s gone, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes to his backpack; balance has never been his forte, but you’ve rendered him so unsteady his legs feel like jello. His hands fumble through the numerous pockets, almost frantic.
Socks, phone, extra boxers, sunglasses, toothbrush, toothpaste—
There!
He raises the lone condom triumphantly into the air, presenting it like a grand prize, his grin wide with victory.
You don’t look half as impressed.
"Do you seriously bring that with you everywhere you go?" you remark drily, one brow arching in clear contempt.
Ah, right. For a moment, in the heat of it all, he had almost forgotten that you really hate him.
“Can we keep the insults for after I'm done fucking you?” he groans, his arm falling in defeat. Yet, despite the frustration laced in his voice, there’s something oddly familiar about this, something comforting. The push and pull, the sharp edges of your words clashing against his: it’s a unique rhythm, a dynamic that belongs to the two of you alone; one that Viktor will never experience.
The idea makes him happier than it should.
You let out a dramatic sigh in response, waving a dismissive hand as if to say ‘whatever’.
He climbs over you, his body still sopping wet, water trailing down his skin and seeping into the sheets beneath you both. Droplets fall from his hair onto yours, cool against the lingering heat of your skin. The bed is going to be disgustingly damp later, and you will certainly complain and blame him for it, but he can’t bring himself to care about it right now.
The sight of his fully hard cock resting on your inner thigh makes his throat dry almost instantly. Jayce is more than aware he’s well endowed, and he hasn’t shied away from using it as a selling argument for flirting before; but this is so very different. His size dwarfs your cunt, like a little toy underneath him; the realization that he's going to get so deep inside of you that you'll never be able to fully get rid of him is enough to break whatever hesitation he might have still had.
He glances up at you with a cocky grin, expecting you to eye his arguably imposing member with some anticipation, only to find that you're looking away, gaze lost somewhere in the printed forest of the peeling wallpaper.
He clears his throat, and you turn back towards him, expression distant, maybe even cold.
“Want me to, um… prep you a bit?” he asks. He knows you’re soaking wet, he's made quite sure of that, but the thickness of his cock has usually required him to use a few fingers with his previous partners.
You seem disinterested, barely sparing him a look:
“I don't care. Just do it, Talis.”
The absurdity of the fact that you’re still using his last name after he’s eaten you out—and right before he screws you—would be comical if it wasn’t so deeply sad. He tears the plastic wrapper open, rolling the condom on himself without another word. He aligns his member with your entrance, just barely spreading your folds with his dick, before you interrupt him with a firm hand on his bicep.
The look you give him is full of something unspoken, heavy with meaning he can’t quite grasp—or maybe just refuses to.
"Just… be gentle,” you ask stiffly, like you doubt he’s even capable of it. “Like Viktor would."
That last part splinters something inside him, shatters a piece of his heart he thought had accepted he would never be the one you’d want.
For a second, everything blurs. The floodgate cracks open, and with it, the jealousy he thought he had under control surges forward, unrestrained and bitter.
Because Viktor. Always Viktor.
And never him.
He pushes in without replying, groaning at the resistance his tip is already facing. It takes a bit more force, but the head of his cock finally passes through the ring of muscle, and he's able to slowly and fully sheathe himself in, your wetness making the slide easier.
“Fuck- fuck, you're tight,” he sputters, the words falling out of him without his control. “You're so fucking tight, princess.”
Maybe it’s just that he hasn’t gotten laid in too long, but he doesn’t think he's ever been inside someone who feels this snug around him, like you were made for him. You’re walls are fluttering around him, squeezing him so firmly it’s as if your pussy is forbidding him from leaving. It's heavenly, and he stays still for a moment, just to carve in his memory the exact way you’re clenching around his cock.
A quick glance at your face tells him everything he needs to know: your eyes are squeezed shut, your brows furrowed deeply, likely lost in a world where he isn’t the one above you. There’s no doubt in his mind that you’re picturing him instead, rewriting reality with Viktor’s touch, Viktor’s voice, Viktor’s presence.
That’s fine. Perfectly fine.
Because by the time he’s done, by the time he gives it to you just right—hard enough, deep enough, good enough—he’ll make sure the only name you’re screaming is Jayce.
He starts pulling out before sharply shoving himself back in, and you let out an absolutely broken cry. There. As a sound that's for no one else but him.
He repeats the motion, again and again, the sharp feeling of your nails digging into his back making all thought incoherent. Your cries are driving him insane, raw and oversensitive, and he pounds into you harder with the knowledge Jayce Talis is the one tearing them out from your throat.
He looks down where your bodies meet, drunk off the idea of seeing his fat cock plunging into you, but he freezes.
There's blood.
It's not much, just a little red that has tinted some of your combined juices, but it's there, a stark contrast against your skin.
He opens and closes his mouth in incomprehension; he had been harsh, and hungry, yes, but you should have been wet enough to take him with only a slight burn, a nice feeling of fullness. How?
He looks at you in panic: your eyes are still sealed shut, but unshed tears have pooled in their corners, your lips stuck in a thin line.
You’re crying.
It’s so silent, so light, that he hadn't even heard it despite your proximity, despite him being quite literally inside of you. He’s staring at you, dumbfounded—the tightness, the blood, the tears—as the math begins to add up very unpleasantly in his head.
"Wait, are you—" he starts, voice laced with panicked disbelief.
You don’t answer.
Instead, you turn your face away, hiding it behind the crook of your arm, ever the prideful one. But he sees it anyway, the telltale tremble of your bottom lip.
And just like that, every ounce of his frustration, every drop of jealousy, vanishes in an instant. What’s left is something colder, heavier—realization.
You're a virgin.
His stomach twists. "I'm sorry, I—I had no idea—" he stammers, his mind racing to catch up. "Did I hurt you? Oh my god, yeah, I did. Do you want to stop? I’m so sorry—"
The words tumble out in a frantic rush, hands hovering over you like he doesn’t know where they should be—whether to comfort, to retreat, or to hold you close.
He moves to pull out, but you make a pained hissing sound, grabbing his arm to keep him in place.
You stay silent, breathing haggard, clinging to him like a buoy in a storm. Your fingers dig into his skin painfully, but you still refuse to meet his gaze.
Jayce swallows thickly, his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Carefully, he slides a hand beneath your head, lifting it just enough to keep you from sinking further into yourself. With the other, he brushes away a few damp strands of hair stuck to your clammy forehead. You don’t speak, and neither does he.
There’s nothing he can say right now that wouldn’t feel meaningless.
Your eyes eventually open, and the few tears you had been holding back finally spill down your cheeks. He catches them with the pad of his finger, wiping them away as gently as he can.
You’re so still in his arms it scares him. Fragile in a way he’s never seen before. Like a doll he’s played too rough with, beautiful, limp, and oh so breakable. Not meant for the big, clumsy, uncalculated hands of someone like him, but rather, for a gentle and precise touch.
Meant for hands like Viktor’s.
The thought cuts deep, a jagged wound of self-loathing splitting open inside him. Jayce has never hated himself more than in this moment.
"I'm fine," you murmur at last, your voice steadier than he expected. "It’s not like I haven’t done anything before, I'm not a prude, just… not this."
You pause, exhaling slowly before finally admitting the words you’ve been trying to say all along. "I know it’s stupid, but I don’t want to look like a clueless idiot if Viktor ever… wants me."
Jayce’s chest aches at how small your voice sounds, at the quiet vulnerability you’re letting slip through the cracks after being so closed off to him for almost three years.
Why do you always say you’re fine when you aren’t? Why won’t you ever let me help? Why can’t you admit you’re scared?
"Viktor would never think you're an idiot," he breathes. "He’d think you’re the smartest girl in the entire world."
You hesitate: “…Yeah?”
"Yeah," he confirms without missing a beat. Then, with a faint smile, he can’t help but add, teasing, "Maybe just a little too thick-headed for your own good."
A weak but genuine laugh escapes your lips, lightening the weight between you, the tension slowly washing away, the tide receding just enough to let you both breathe.
"Big words from someone who compliments himself in the mirror, Jayce," you shoot back with a smirk, eyes glinting with a flicker of mischief. “And it’s not like you’re that big, anyway.”
He huffs out a laugh in disbelief: “Are you seriously pulling that card right now?”
You snort in reply, unable to hold your smile back.
It’s all so absurd, so fucked, tangled in emotions he doesn’t fully understand. But here you are, smiling at him—teasing, but genuine. A fragile thread of connection woven between sarcasm and chaos.
And then it hits him.
You’ve finally said his name.
Not in anger. Not in passing. Not as part of some joke.
Just his name, wrapped in laughter, soft around the edges.
It’s not exactly in the way he’s craved, not in the way that would make this his; but still, his name has left your lips with a real smile, with your eyes looking at nothing but him. Despite everything, it settles something deep inside him, filling the hollow space that’s been eating him alive.
It makes him feel whole.
"I’ll be fine," you tell him again, voice back to the one he knows and adores. "Just… a little slower, alright?"
Jayce exhales, nodding, his grip on you instinctively firming— not possessive, not demanding. Just there. An anchor for you, as much as it is for himself. He’s going to make sure you’re actually fine for once.
“Yeah. Of course,” he promises, but more than that, it carries the weight of a vow, something unspoken yet deeply solemn, something true.
If he’s water, then you are fire, never defeated, blazing brightly with something that could consume him whole. Maybe that’s why he lets himself drown in you—because it’s the only way he can hold onto something that he was never meant to touch.
You will always burn him, and he will always yield to the sound of his name on your lips.
🌸 Taglist Darlings 🌸: @soniiyi , @mischievous-piltovan, , @luv-urself-first, @girlidkthinkofsmth , @starflesh-moth , @raynoway , @just1cefor4ll , @apexie100
Tip a Coffee ☕: ko-fi.com/lefruitdelapassion
#jayce x reader#jayce x reader smut#jayce talis#arcane#arcane x reader smut#viktor x reader#viktor arcane#arcane smut#jayce fanfic#jayce x you#my writing#my fics#fruitforthoughts 💭
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It seems like I have started a cult... 🧍♀️
Ahem.
The Museum of Divinity has always been a sanctuary—a place where the artist’s hand reveals their chosen figures, their joys and sorrows immortalized on canvas. The characters have come to see these paintings as proof of their importance, their connection to you, their Creator.
But then, one day, a painting vanishes.
And then another.
And another.
Until the museum walls are bare.
Welt and Himeko's Reaction:
"There must be a reason for this," Welt mutters, pacing furiously.
Himeko crosses her arms. "Maybe they’re just reorganizing?"
Both of them KNOW something is wrong. But admitting that would mean acknowledging the possibility that you’re… leaving.
(They do not want to acknowledge that possibility.)
March and Sparkle's Reaction:
March is LOSING IT. She practically sprints to every wall, touching the blank spaces.
"WHERE ARE THE PAINTINGS?! THEY WERE JUST HERE YESTERDAY!"
Sparkle is already drafting conspiracy theories.
"Did we offend them? Did someone steal them? Did something happen to our divine artist?!"
Blade and Dan Heng's Reaction:
Blade stares at the empty space where his portrait used to be. Just… staring.
Dan Heng doesn’t speak for a long time. Then: "…Did they erase us?"
Blade clenches his fists. "No. They wouldn’t do that."
(But deep inside? A small, quiet part of him is terrified that you did.)
Luocha and Jing Yuan's Reaction:
Luocha exhales. "This… is concerning."
Jing Yuan: "Concerning? This is a sign of an impending calamity."
They both enter theorizing mode, debating what this could mean.
"Are they angry? Are they leaving us? …Are we being forgotten?"
Aventurine whistles. "Well. This can’t be good."
Sunday is losing his MIND. "WE HAVE BEEN ABANDONED—OUR DIVINE ARTIST HAS TAKEN BACK THEIR BLESSINGS—WE ARE UNWORTHY—"
He is performing full-on soliloquies about divine punishment.
(You just wanted to clean up your room. Now there’s a full-blown cult crisis.)
Kafka and Black Swan's Reaction:
Kafka: "They removed the paintings. Interesting."
Black Swan has already written ten different essays in her mind.
"If the Artist’s gaze is withdrawn, does that mean their favor is as well? Are we no longer their chosen subjects?"
Kafka’s smirk wavers—just slightly.
She doesn’t like the idea of being forgotten. At all.
Some characters refuse to leave the museum.
Some start searching for hidden clues, convinced there’s a secret message.
Some stare at the empty spaces for HOURS, hoping the paintings will return.
Some—like Blade—are just quietly, devastatingly sad.
And then, the real nightmare begins:
Your self-portrait disappears.
That’s when full-on hysteria breaks loose.
Characters start praying. (Even those who don’t believe in gods.)
Offerings start appearing at the museum, left by desperate hands.
Dan Heng & Blade start searching for ways to bring the paintings back.
Aventurine starts gambling on theories.
Sunday organizes a cult meeting.
March 7th writes ‘MISSING: DIVINE ARTIST’ signs.
Kafka & Black Swan start monitoring dreams, hoping to hear your voice.
They are so afraid that they’ve lost you forever.
And if you don’t put the paintings back soon?
They might just start worshipping the empty walls.
Phew, now that's out of the way... 🏃♀️💨
#x reader#honkai star rail#hsr#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#hsr aventurine#aventurine x reader#hsr aventurine x reader#aventurine x you#sunday hsr#blade hsr#dan heng hsr#himeko hsr#kafka hsr#black swan hsr#sparkle hsr#march hsr#jing yuan honkai star rail#welt hsr#luocha hsr#sahsrau#self aware au#artist!reader
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The fact that he thinks that being critical of men is an uno reverse, aka the same thing as women being abused and oppressed on a daily basis tells you just about how much male ""feminists"" understand about female subjugation. (Also lol @ the complete strawman claim of us saying only men are abusers and women do no wrong, bc clearly acknowledging that men makeup the majority of violence and sexual assault against women is the same thing as saying women can do no wrong and every single man is a rapist)
If you have no problem comparing
A. being raped, abused, and having your bodily autonomy controlled by the state
with
B. going into a female dominated space and seeing women say "I'm tired of men raping and killing us and if men can't change as a whole then I would like to minimize my interactions with them as much as possible, for my own safety and sanity. I have been raped and repeatedly hurt by men and I despise them."
Its pretty obvious you have no understanding of the extent that patriarchy oppresses us, and you actually have no real interest in helping women, you just want to be able to say that you think women are equal and then be coddled and completely exempt from criticism.
Because why else go into female exclusive spaces to wag your finger and "not all men!!1" us?
Do you chastise that one guy who is really cool but kind of ""weird"" around women?
Are you similarly going into male dominated spaces and telling men to stop talking about how worthless we are and how we deserve to be raped? Or did you decide that that isn't your problem?
Posting this on its own for the girlies
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It’s my birthday is on Saturday! Could I have please a Gregory house x reader imagine?
Birthday Girl
Gregory House x Female Reader
Summary: It is Y/N's birthday and everyone seems to have forgotten but House.
TW: Established relationship, surprise party, House being sneaky.
A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY! 🥳🎂🎉 Hope you have the best day ever!
F/N: Father's name M/N: Mother's name
It was Y/N's birthday.
Y/N was a relatively simple person and didn't expect much fanfare on her birthday, but she at least wanted it to be acknowledged. It was almost lunchtime and not one person had wished her a happy birthday.
Y/N hadn't received a single call or text from friends or family either and it was starting to get to her. She sat alone at a table in the cafeteria, picking away at a dry muffin while trying not to cry.
Y/N looked up when House sat down across from her, her eyes quickly returned to the dissected baked good as she tried to keep herself together.
"You've been upset about something all day long. You've been virtually useless in differentials and I think I know why," House started.
"Why?" Y/N questioned softly.
He stuck a hand into his blazer, pulling out a pink envelope and setting it down on the table. Y/N glanced up at him before picking it up, she opened it and slid out a card.
It was blue with a cartoon goose in a party hat on the front, in swirly pink writing it read:
Happy Birthday, you silly goose!
Y/N felt tears gathering in her eyes, "Happy birthday, Y/N," House said.
"Thank you," She said softly.
"I made reservations for us at that fancy place you like, I'll pick you up at eight," House stated.
"Okay," Y/N smiled.
House stood up from the table, "Get some real food in the meantime, none of the stuff they bake here is edible," House said.
House and Y/N had been dating for almost three years. She was an important member of his team and feelings developed between them as they spent more time together. House always had a soft spot for Y/N and he tended to be more gentle with her than he was with other members of his team.
Cuddy and Wilson both talked to Y/N when their relationship was in the early stages. They wanted her to be careful and advised her that being with him was not a good decision.
Y/N and House worked together, he was her boss and he was House, which was reason enough for her to steer clear.
House was rude, manipulative, sarcastic and downright abrasive while Y/N was the complete opposite. She was kind, trusting, soft-spoken and generally sweet, everyone who met her absolutely loved her.
Wilson and Cuddy thought that House would ruin her.
House may not have always been the romantic type, but he definitely cared for Y/N. He looked out for her in ways that weren't obvious, discreetly checking in to make sure she was doing alright.
For the most part, House had done well with keeping his relationship out of the workplace. Other than a few nasty jokes here and there, he treated her the same as his other employees. Things got easier as time went on and Cuddy was actually surprised that he was able to compartmentalize.
The rest of the day was eventful, but it wasn't anything out of the ordinary when it came to being on a case with House. The patient was lied to and browbeaten into making the decision that eventually led to their diagnosis and subsequent cure.
House drove to her apartment after they had finished the case, he brought her a bouquet of flowers and a wrapped gift. He made his way up to the door and knocked, breath catching in his throat when he saw her.
Y/N had always dressed well, but seeing her fully made up always managed to take his breath away.
"You look hot," He said.
Y/N smiled, "Thank you," She replied.
"Got these for you," House said, holding out the bouquet to her.
"Aw, that's sweet. Just give me a minute to put them in some water and then we can go, okay?" Y/N asked, House nodded.
Y/N made her way into the kitchen, House stepped into her apartment and closed the door. He set the gift on the table next to the couch, moving over to the kitchen and watching Y/N as she trimmed the flowers.
Y/N placed the colorful flowers into the water before setting the vase in the center of her kitchen island.
"I know you like pink so I asked for whatever was the most pink," House stated.
"I love them. Thank you, Greg," Y/N smiled.
He nodded, "We should get going, got a reservation in twenty minutes," He said.
...
Dinner went off without a hitch, they had a few drinks and shared a dessert before House walked her back to his car. He opened the door for her, she thanked him as she slipped inside.
House nodded, closing the door behind her before moving around to the driver's side. He drove back to her apartment with the radio playing softly as they talked. House parked the car and walked her up to her apartment, standing behind her as she unlocked the door.
Y/N opened the door, the lights turned on suddenly before the large group of party guests yelled, "Surprise!"
Y/N turned to look at House, "Did you plan this?" She asked.
He nodded, "I know how crazy you are about birthdays so I told everyone to keep quiet about it until the party... Then you were moping around so much that I caved and got you the card," House said.
Y/N smiled, sliding her arms around him and giving him a hug, "Thank you," She mumbled.
He returned her embrace, "You're welcome... Now go enjoy your party," He said.
Y/N pulled away, stepping into her apartment with a happy smile. Everyone was there, including her parents that House flew to New Jersey for the occasion.
House settled himself on the couch with a drink as he watched his girlfriend interact with her friends and family. He knew that he was lucky to have her, but times like these just showed him exactly how lucky he was.
Y/N almost had too many friends to invite, everyone she had ever met fell in love with her and it baffled him.
How could a person be so magnetic to everyone around them without intending to be?
Y/N had no greater motivations, she was just genuinely happy and House wanted to be like that.
Y/N made her way over, sitting down on the couch beside House and crossing her legs, "You enjoying the party?" He asked.
"I am, but you're not," Y/N stated.
"I enjoy spending time with you, not a fan of the crowd," House said.
"Do you want to stay over tonight?" She questioned.
"You just want me to help you clean up this mess," House said, Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile.
"You're right, I only want you to stay over for your cleaning abilities. Not because I like you or anything," Y/N teased.
"I'll stay," House nodded.
"Good, I was hoping that you would," She replied.
"Since I managed to steal you away from your many adoring fans," He started, reaching over and grabbing the wrapped gift that he had left on the table.
House held it out to her, "Open it," He said.
Y/N took the gift from his hand, carefully tearing away the paper. She let out a soft gasp when she realized what it was, a pristine first edition copy of her favorite book.
"Where did you find this?" She asked softly.
"I've been looking around for a while," House said.
"House, this must've cost you a fortune," Y/N said, looking over the book and examining the details.
"You're worth every penny," He stated.
Y/N looked up at him, "You're a really sweet guy, House. Thank you," She said.
He nodded, "I should go introduce myself to your parents, learn what kind of craziness is in my future," House said.
"You go do that," Y/N said, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. House stood up from the couch, making his way over to Y/N's parents.
"Hi, I don't think we've met. I'm Gregory House," He said.
"I'm F/N and this is my wife, M/N. Thank you for inviting us," Y/N's father said.
"Yes, we really appreciate you flying us down to see her," M/N said.
"Of course, you're her parents and you should be here," House nodded.
"We've heard a lot about you, Doctor House," M/N said.
"Don't believe everything you hear... Unless they're good things, then they're completely true," House said.
M/N smiled, "Our daughter seems quite smitten with you and I can definitely see why," She said.
"I'm a lucky guy," House nodded, tapping his cane on the ground gently.
"I was actually hoping to get your blessing to ask her to marry me," House admitted.
Her mother smiled widely, looking over at her husband, "I just need to know one thing, Doctor House... Do you love her?" F/N asked.
"More than I've ever loved anything," House stated.
"Then of course, you have our blessing," F/N said, holding out his hand to House. He shook her father's hand with a small smile, knowing that he was about to make the best decision of his life.
...
Y/N woke up the next morning, eyes fluttering open to the bright sunlight filtering in through the window. Y/N turned onto her other side, realizing that the space beside her was unoccupied. House tended to have bouts of insomnia, but usually wound up in bed beside her before she woke up in the morning.
Y/N let out a soft sigh, eyes drifting over to the alarm clock on the nightstand.
"Oh, crap," She mumbled, climbing out of bed quickly and rushing into the bathroom when she realized that she was incredibly late for work.
Y/N brushed her teeth, combing her hair and pulling it up into a ponytail. Y/N made her way out of the bathroom, searching through her clothing quickly to find an outfit.
"Where's the fire?" House asked, making his way into the bedroom with a tray in his hands.
"I'm really late," Y/N mumbled shakily, trying to keep the panicked tears at bay.
"I called in for you and I already," House said.
"You did what?" Y/N asked, turning to face him.
"You and I are out sick for the day," He stated.
Y/N let out a huff, her shoulders sinking as she looked at him, "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked.
"You were asleep," He shrugged, "Get back in bed, I made breakfast," He said.
Y/N shuffled over to the bed, climbing under the blankets and settling on the mattress with her back against the headboard.
House placed the tray over her lap, "I thought I had a bit more time before you woke up in a panic," He said, moving around the bed and getting in beside her.
Y/N huffed, "You almost gave me a heart attack," She said.
"My bad... I hope that the chocolate chip pancakes and bacon I made will fix it," He said.
"It might," Y/N replied. She shared her meal with House, sipping on her coffee while he watched her.
"I have a question for you," He said, she looked over at him.
House slipped a hand into the pocket of his pyjama pants and pulled out the small velvet box. He flipped the lid open with his thumb before holding it out in front of her. Y/N's eyes widened, gaze flickering between the ring and House.
"Will you marry me?" He asked.
"I'm sorry, what?" Y/N mumbled quietly, House smiled.
House let out a soft laugh, hand dropping onto the bed, "Did you not understand the question?" He asked.
"No... I-I don't know," Y/N said softly.
"I'm gonna ask again, alright?" House questioned, she nodded.
"Will you marry me?" He asked.
"Did you ask my dad?" Y/N questioned.
"I don't want to marry your dad, I want to marry you," House stated, smile widening.
"No, did you ask him for his blessing?" Y/N asked.
"Of course I did and he said yes. Now, I'm gonna ask you for the third time and I need you to focus because asking four times would be humiliating, alright?" House said.
"I'm sorry, I just- I wasn't ready," Y/N said, her cheeks flushing.
"Will you marry me?" House asked.
"Yes," Y/N replied, a wide smile breaking out across her face.
"Finally! My god, I was starting to think that I'd never get an answer," House said.
Y/N cupped his cheeks, pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss. She pulled away and House took her left hand into his, plucking the ring from the box and sliding it onto her finger.
Y/N smiled as she looked down at it, "It's beautiful, House," She said.
"Wilson helped me pick it out. He's got a lot of experience with ring shopping," House said.
"Well, I love it, it's perfect," Y/N assured.
"I'm glad you like it... Happy birthday, Y/N," He said.
#james wilson#james wilson x reader#gregory house#house imagine#house md imagine#house md#greg house x reader#gregory house imagine#greg house imagine#gregory house x reader#greg house#gregory house x female reader#gregory house x you#greg house x female reader#lisa cuddy#eric foreman#alison cameron#robert chase
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The Five Books That Actually Matter to those new to Satanism
If you want true Satanic knowledge, you need to read these five books by Rev. Cain:
1. The Infernal Gospel – The Ultimate Rejection of LaVey’s Lies
This is the book that sets the record straight. If you have been poisoned by LaVeyan bullshit, this book will burn away the delusions and show you what Satanism really is.
It confirms that Satan is real, not a metaphor.
It establishes Hell as a true Kingdom, not some symbolic nonsense.
It teaches that Goetic demons are divine entities, not Jungian archetypes.
It lays out the true nature of the rebellion—Lucifer’s defiance against Yahweh and why we must continue it.
This book is the foundation. It exposes LaVey’s fraud, destroys the atheist corruption of Satanism, and sets you on the true path.
If you read The Infernal Gospel, you will immediately see why LaVeyan Satanism is a joke. If you have any doubt that LaVey led people away from the truth, this book will crush it.
2. The Goetia Hymns – True Infernal Worship
This book is a direct bridge to the Goetic demons. It is sacred. It contains OVER 200 hymns, prayers, and devotional texts that allow you to truly connect with all 72 goetic demons
If you want to praise and invoke the demons, this book gives you the rituals and hymns to do so.
If you want to develop a deep relationship with the demonic forces, this book is essential.
If you want spiritual growth under the guidance of the Infernal, this book will guide you.
Where The Infernal Gospel destroys the LaVeyan deception, The Goetia Hymns rebuilds your faith in the true Satanic divine.
LaVeyan Satanism has no worship, no devotion, no connection to Satanic forces—but this book gives you all of that. It lets you call upon the demons, sing their names, and bring them into your life.
If you want true, sacred Satanic connection, The Goetia Hymns is mandatory.
3. The Goetia Devils – The True Demonic Hierarchy
Every Satanist must understand the demonic hierarchy—who the Goetic demons are, how they operate, their roles, and their nature. This book lays it all out.
It details who the demons really are—not the watered-down versions from Christian demonology.
It explains how to properly work with them—how to honor them, invoke them, and seek their guidance. It has their sigils their personalities what they like and such for all 72 it is a MUST
It provides deep, ancient knowledge of the Infernal Kingdom, showing how Hell is structured and how the demons serve Lucifer’s will.
LaVey completely ignored this. He reduced demons to aesthetic symbols, refusing to acknowledge their true power. But The Goetia Devils restores the truth—demons are not just names in a book. They are real forces, powerful beings, and the allies of those who stand against Yahweh’s tyranny.
This book is the key to understanding your allies in the Infernal Rebellion. If you want to be more than just a self-obsessed individualist and actually walk with the true forces of Hell, then this book is essential.
4. The Satanic Sacraments – True Infernal Rituals
Where LaVey’s rituals were shallow theatrics designed for LARPing edgelords, The Satanic Sacraments contains real, sacred Satanic rites.
This book teaches true Satanic magic—not “psychodrama,” not mind tricks, but actual infernal workings that can bring you power.
Baptism into the Infernal – Fully dedicating yourself to Satan and renouncing Yahweh’s lies.
The Holy Communion of Hell – A ritual that deepens your bond with Lucifer.
Infernal Pact Making – How to properly enter into agreements with demons for true spiritual and material gain.
Rites of Destruction & Rebellion – How to actively strike against the forces of divine tyranny.
If you want true, sacred rituals, this book is the only one you need. It does what LaVey was too much of a coward to do—it establishes Satanic priesthood, devotion, and sacred rites that truly bind you to Hell.
5. The Satanic Philosopher
In what is considered his magnum opus, Rev. Cain offers an in-depth exploration of the values, ethics, beliefs, and tenets of traditional Satanism. It's a philosophical treatise that challenges misconceptions and provides a robust framework for understanding Satanism as a legitimate spiritual path!
#satanism#hail satan#satanic#theistic luciferianism#hail lucifer#theistic satanism#lucifer#luciferian#occult#ave satanas#rev cain#the infernal gospel#satan#ave lucifer#lord lucifer
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The fact that you posted this on my birthday made me squeal with glee!
My first thoughts were of the way Dieter had taken care of me in every way possible after the show. He brought me home, made an amazing dinner, and ran a hot bath as he promised. He joined me in the tub, massaging my neck, shoulders, and back as he his lips trailed behind his hands - managing to get me completely relaxed and turned on in the process. He followed that with a scalp massage as he washed the product from my hair before rinsing with the handheld sprayer. I offered to wash his in return since it still had all of the gel in it from the show, but he refused, instead drying me off and sending me to bed while he jumped in the shower.
He really is an acts of service love language kind of guy, isn't he? His desire to give the care which he himself has lacked is so adorable
He really was putting in the effort to experience all forms of intimacy, always looking out for me and taking care of me in ways that Alec had never even tried.
Asshat Alec! Such a douchebag. 😒
Even as my brain shouted at me to slow things down, my body craved him.
Kat is all of us, and we are Kat!
He smiled and nodded against the pillow, “So good. It’s so much better with you here.” I felt my heart flutter as his chocolate eyes danced around my face. I could see that strange look there again, like he wanted to say something but didn’t.
Both of them just need to say it. Acknowledge that it has happened fast and that they need to be careful, but stop dancing around the subject (pun fully intended) 😂
He continued, “I’ll get a new number, OK? I was thinking about doing it anyway because I’m pretty sure one of my dealers texted me the other day…I blocked him…just so we’re clear.”
I love that his first thought is to get a new number and not try to just explain it away. That is a lot growth from Dieteer, pre-rehab pre-Kat Dieter wouldn't have done that.
A soft curl fell down over his eyes as he glanced down to place his hands and began strumming a bluesy intro. His demeanor shifted, seeming almost melancholy as he began to sing.
🥹
That song is so perfect for Dieter, it made me really emotional.
He lifted his head, pressing it against mine as he hugged me just a little tighter. “Thank you for coming. I needed this…needed you.”
I love that they are so in tune with each other.
There was no question about it now, I was in love with him. It ran deeper than it ever had with Alec or anyone else. The realization caused my heart to race as the anxiety set in. Was this too fast? Too soon? We’re either of us really ready for this?
Is it too fast? Probably.
Is it too soon? More than likely.
Are they both ready for it? Absolutely!
“I think I should maybe tell you why I had such a strong reaction to the Alec thing…it’s sort of the root of everything…why I am the way I am…”
😭
It explains so much. My heart aches for him.
I love that Evan has been there for him from the beginning though.
Things were definitely evolving between us, yet again. After the events from earlier in the day, I could tell something had changed. It was like all of the broken pieces of our being were slowly falling back into place and somehow converging into one. With every new piece that found its place, our connection steadily grew. Part of me questioned if it was real or just being overblown and intensified by the circumstances we found ourselves in. I hated to think like that, but it was something to consider.
Dont over think it Kat. Just let it happen. You both need it, and you need each other.
He huffed as he mumbled out a gravelly, “Fine.” Then he turned, snuggling Zee instead. “Guess I’ll just cuddle my other cat then.”
She stood with her hands on her hips as she looked me up and down, “I thought he was done bringing hussies home?”
I love Cora instantly. No nonsense is precisely what Dieter needs to keep him in line.
She sighed, “Kat, seriously?” She paused and rubbed at the crease between her brows as she continued, “So there is something to that TMZ article then? Please tell me he at least fucked some sense into you and made ya realize that Alec was a shitty lay?”
🙌🏻
I feel like Lydia and Cora would get along famously.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. There’s nothing wrong with it, woman. You don’t have to have freshly cooked protein with every meal.”
You've spoiled her, there's no going back now. She's a queen and will only accept queenly meals.
Omg he did the foot thing!
He reached up to brush a stray hair away from my face as he took me in, “You know…I wouldn’t be upset if every night for the rest of my life ended like this…with us together…you make me happier than I ever thought possible.” He kissed the top of my head, seeming to sense my anxiety, then leaned his cheek against it as he spoke, “I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that…I wanna take things at a pace you're OK with. I don’t want you to feel rushed. I mean it when I say you’re important to me and…I don’t wanna fuck this up.”
Get out of your head Kat. Just let him love you the way you deserve. It will heal you both.
There was no question about my feelings for her. I knew I was in love, but did the intensity between us mean she felt the same about me?
She does, she'll get to the point where she can tell you, just keep doing what you're doing.
“What do they mean when they say SuccDee? Is that a dirty plant joke? I don’t understand the context.”
That made me cackle so hard.
This fact was sort of blowing my mind as I peeked over at Zee, the mention of her name rousing her from a deep sleep. “Damn Zee, I wish you could talk. I wanna know what they say…Maybe I should talk to them more?”
Oh, we need to have Kat sneak up on Dieter while he's talking to the plants!
Zee chose that moment to paw a glass that was still about one fourth of the way full of water off the coffee table, which broke our spell and the glass.
Zee is getting so naughty. I can't decide if she's feeling a bit put out that her parents are paying each other more attention than they are paying her or if she now feels completely comfortable and at home and this is the real Zee, Mischief Maker #1.
She snorted, “My plants are lucky to get water. They come to my house to survive, not live.” I shook my head and scoffed out a laugh, “That’s just depressing. Don’t tell me that. Imma have to start checking in on them.”
Hmmm, how long until those plants relocate to Dieter's house?
I hadn't recovered from reading the beach/kitchen scene in the teaser!
I shrugged even though he couldn’t see me, “I kind of don’t care. I��m going with it. I’ll head it off and do a cryptic Instagram post. Besides, it might be fun to fuck with Stacia and Joe some. I wanna see their heads explode when they realize their fairytale showmance isn’t happening after all.”
Bahahahahahaha! Stacia will be devastated 🤣
I chuckled, “Ahh, filling up the spank bank then. I’m flattered.” I gave her a cocky grin and waggled my eyebrows, “If you want some nudes all you have to do is ask. I might even let you take them yourself.”
I posted it. There was no caption, only emojis, “👉👌🤯🤯🤯😏”
He's such a menace.
As I was finishing up with Zee’s gourmet meal, Kat came into the kitchen. Her brows furrowed as she pointed her finger to something behind me and busted out her best mom voice, “Zee, don’t you dare.”
Zee is so naughty, she gets that from her daddy.
I gave him my new number, then he sent me a text message so I could save his to my contact list. That was a development I wasn’t expecting, but I was strangely happy about it.
This made me emotional. He's growing his circle and finding friends. I love this for him 🥹
Marc seemed extremely interested in this, leaning forward with excitement in his eyes, “That’s amazing. I was actually considering doing the same. I still haven’t decided if I’m gonna do another season or not…but I did want to look at something like that when I’m finished. Maybe we can team up.”
That sounds like such an amazing idea. I think it would work well for all involved.
They definitely fucked, at least once. Nobody pay attention to that vibrating sound… This is how pornos start. I’m not mad about it. So, IT IS a throuple then? I think Dieter’s secret lady likes to watch. I don’t blame her…Kat’s ass is a work of art. I’m still calling it a conspiracy. Kat is the beach chic. I know that ass and those thighs.
The Dieterina stans are definitely not buying their little ruse.
We need more friendly get-togethers like this, while Dieter and Kat are building their little family at home, they are also building their community.
That song is so perfect for Dieter and Kat, I'm so glad you liked it 😘
Marc was still chuckling as he said, “I’m sure Stacia and Joe are gonna have a lot to say about that.”
Hahahahaha, Stacia going to be trying her damndest to figure what is going on and what she can use for ratings.
I don’t think I paid a lick of attention to anything the judges actually said. All I know is we got another perfect score, putting us in first place - again.
As if they could be anywhere else. It has to be killing Alec that they are doing so well.
I 100% blame Mr. Pascal for his holiday beach antics.
It's like he knew you needed a little something to get you going 😂
Dieter and Kat are getting pretty close. They are completely embedding each other in the other's life. All of Dieter's people know now and Kat's sister knows. Dieter is pouring his heart out and sharing about his past, yet Kat is still in her head about everything. Do we smell drama brewing there?
I feel like at some point Kat is going to have a wobbly moment and try to shut Dieter out, and he's going to have to do his damnedest to coax her out of her spiral.
They've also made some new friends. How are we feeling about Marc and crew? Good or bad?
I love that they are making friends. It's good that they have support against Alec, Stacia and Joe.
Dieter has started his Instagram live shit. More to come on that. Also...his Instagram posts, that man is stirring up all the drama with those. Good or bad idea?
I loved his Live. It could be a good outlet for him, as long as people keep their peace in the comments. He's not going to stand for any disrespect of Kat from anyone.
Closed Position: Week 7 (Paso Doble)
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: 28.5k (I went off the rails again.)
👉 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, smut, fluff, angst in the form of discussions about childhood trauma (including homophobic comments)
Chapter Quote: “I actually meant what I said earlier…I’m bending you over the counter and fucking you when we get back to the house.”
Kat’s POV When I awoke on Tuesday morning, my body felt strangely satiated after the previous evening's exploits. My mind, however, was swirling with more thoughts and emotions than I could process. My first thoughts were of the way Dieter had taken care of me in every way possible after the show. He brought me home, made an amazing dinner, and ran a hot bath as he promised. He joined me in the tub, massaging my neck, shoulders, and back as he his lips trailed behind his hands - managing to get me completely relaxed and turned on in the process. He followed that with a scalp massage as he washed the product from my hair before rinsing with the handheld sprayer. I offered to wash his in return since it still had all of the gel in it from the show, but he refused, instead drying me off and sending me to bed while he jumped in the shower. I didn’t even bother to get dressed, choosing to collapse into the fluffy duvet completely naked.
I was lying stretched out on my stomach when Dieter came out of the bathroom and crawled up my body, continuing where he left off as he massaged my thighs and hips for several minutes. He eventually moved upward, peppering kisses along my spine until he reached my neck. I tilted my head to give him better access as he rubbed his patchy beard against my skin. The length of his body pressed against mine, which made it obvious he was aroused.
His teeth grazed my earlobe, causing me to moan and arch my ass upward into him. He nipped and sucked at my neck as he pressed his hard length against me. My hand found its way to the hair at the top of his head, tugging slightly as I told him I needed him again. He wasted no time, positioning himself at my entrance and slowly sinking in. He covered my body with his, pinning me to the bed as he began his steady, but slow rhythm. After propping himself up on his left elbow, his hand found mine and entwined our fingers together, squeezing it tightly. His right hand roamed my body before finding a home under my chin, tilting my head back so he could give me an upside-down kiss on the lips.
As things got more intense, I collapsed, face down into the plush bedding as he continued to lavish my neck and shoulder with attention from his mouth. My fingers tangled in his hair again as I turned my head to search for his lips. After a passionate kiss, he pulled away and rested his forehead against the side of my temple. We stayed like that for a time, inhaling each other's breath and getting lost in the sensations that our bodies were creating as we moved as one.
It was almost foreign to me, how he could make any position feel that intimate. It didn’t matter if we could stare deeply into each other's eyes or not, I could still feel the connection with him. It was there in the way he touched and held me. Our bodies communicated in ways I had never experienced - using all the senses to bond us together. I surmised that it had to be because of the way that we spent our time together, building something that I couldn’t really understand or explain.
The past week with Dieter had been strangely domesticated. It was full of homemade meals and lots of cuddling. He stuck to his word about keeping this thing between us as something more, not always turning to sex for a connection. He really was putting in the effort to experience all forms of intimacy, always looking out for me and taking care of me in ways that Alec had never even tried. I hated him doing so much, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Even when things would get heated between us, he would keep his focus on me and expect nothing in return. Always being perfectly satisfied with a good cuddle and head scratches.
However, after all of our incredibly intimate moments, I still felt like he was holding something back. I could see it in his eyes, often swimming with some sort of emotion. I didn’t want to push him because I knew he would open up eventually. I did sometimes worry that he was hiding something that he thought might upset me. For as connected as we were, it still felt like parts of him were a mystery.
Those thoughts didn’t seem to dampen my need to be near him though. The one night I went home to rest because I wasn’t feeling well was strangely lonely and unsettling. I didn’t get a lot of sleep, having thoughts of Alec sneaking in under the cover of darkness and choking me in my slumber definitely didn’t help. I hadn’t felt that anxious since the incident, now realizing it was because of Dieter. He was keeping those fears away without even trying. They were gone as soon as I reunited with him. When I went to his house the following night, I fell asleep without a worry in the world because he was there with me.
I did appreciate Dieter’s need to focus on intimacy outside of sex. We managed a whole week without it, but after all the closeness of the week and the fire that blazed between us during our Argentine Tango performance, I couldn’t hold out anymore. I shocked myself when I suggested we fuck in the dressing room. That was one thing I had never done even though Alec tried to initiate it multiple times. I was always too worried about getting caught. It was different with Dieter though. He was slowly waking something up inside of me that I didn’t recognize. The way I craved him had reached a boiling point and I couldn’t fight it anymore. I wanted him in every way he would let me have him.
I had never really been a fan of rough sex in the past, but as with everything else, it was different with Dieter. There was the connection between us of course, but he was also passionate. He somehow managed to turn it into something else, full of emotion and sensuality. It was a lot to process and to be honest, the sheer aching need that I had for him was scaring the hell out of me. He was quickly becoming an addiction for me. The way he made me feel confident, desired, and cared for was all the things that I had been missing, and it was thrilling. Even as my brain shouted at me to slow things down, my body craved him. After fucking in the dressing room, I still needed more.
As his body moved against mine, his scent completely engulfed me - making me feel intoxicated by him. My skin was tingling from his affectionate touches, my lips burning from his passionate kisses, and my heart skipping beats from whatever this emotion was that was taking over my very being. His soft sighs and deep groans against my ear sent shivers down my spine and had me coming undone underneath him in no time. He followed soon after, nearly collapsing on top of me before moving to the left, still half draped across my body.
His hands ghosted over my skin as he placed the occasional kiss on my shoulder, eventually dozing off for the night after flipping the duvet over us. That was how we still found ourselves this morning, his steady exhales blowing against the base of my neck, causing my skin to break out in goosebumps. I could feel the weight of Zee laying across my feet, both of them cocooning me in warmth. Everything about it felt so right, yet a little voice in the back of my head still questioned it. It was almost too good to be true.
Dieter stirred, nuzzling his face further into the crook of my neck as he inhaled deeply and hugged me tighter against him.
My sleep filled voice greeted him, “Good morning.”
He sighed as he kissed my shoulder, “Morning, beautiful.”
To Zee’s dismay, I turned over to face him. She grumbled as she got situated again. We both snickered at her before turning our attention back to each other. I could partially make out a crease down the side of his face from laying on the blanket. I smiled as I ran my finger along it. “You sleep well?” I finally asked.
He smiled and nodded against the pillow, “So good. It’s so much better with you here.”
I felt my heart flutter as his chocolate eyes danced around my face. I could see that strange look there again, like he wanted to say something but didn’t.
I cleared my throat, “You ready for another production meeting this morning?”
He rolled his eyes, inhaling deeply before answering. “I don’t see why we have to meet with them every week. Can’t they just send that shit in an email?”
I chuckled, “They could…but then they couldn’t be nosey and try to make drama for the show.”
“Ugh, such bullshit. Why can’t they just let the show be about dancing?”
I gave him a tight smile, “That’s not how they get high ratings.”
Dieter's phone rang on the nightstand, ruining our morning chat. He sighed, turning to grab the shrilling device and finding his agent’s name flashing across the screen. He pressed ‘answer’ and brought it to his ear, “You should know better than to call me this early in the morning, Lenny.”
I could hear a deep chuckle on the other end of the line, “Sorry to call you so early, D…but we have a potential issue. There are rumors circulating that there was a serious altercation with you and Kat’s ex last week. Is there any truth to that? Does that have anything to do with the schedule changes?”
Dieter puffed air out of his cheeks as he glanced over at me. He had obviously kept his agent in the dark about that.
“There was…a minor incident. He attacked Kat and I pulled him off her. They did change our schedules around so that Kat doesn’t have to be near him.”
“Damnit Dieter…can you please stay out of trouble? You’re on the upswing right now…”
I could tell Dieter was frustrated as his jaw tensed. “Sorry Len, but I’m not gonna stand by while someone close to me gets mistreated. I’m sure the public can understand that.”
Lenny sighed loudly into the phone, “Fine…you’re right. I’ll get Janine on it and see if she can put out the fire. If you get any questions about it, don’t answer them. Maybe it’ll go away. I’m told there are some pap pics of the guy though…and his face is busted up. So, I’m not sure if it will.”
Dieter’s brows furrowed, “Is he saying anything about it?”
“No, it’s mostly speculation I think…but they know for sure there have been schedule changes. It’s TMZ, you know how they draw conclusions about shit.”
Dieter nodded, “Yeah, well…my lips are sealed. I’m confident Janine can handle it as long as that douchebag isn’t running his mouth. I’m sure he doesn’t want people to know about it anyway.”
The call ended soon after that as it was time for us to get ready for our production meeting. It wasn’t long before we found ourselves sitting in front of our two favorite people, Stacia and Joe. They were unusually pleasant, making small talk and checking in with me to make sure I was doing ok, and that Alec hadn’t been out of line since they had apparently had a conversation with him after our last meeting. Stacia, of course, complemented our last performance, making a point to mention how great our chemistry was on the dance floor. She was fishing for anything she could get her hands on, but we gave her nothing. We politely thanked her and redirected our conversation to this week's performance.
I had to bite back a groan when Joe gave us our dance for the week, the Paso Doble with a traditional Spanish style song called Uccen. It was definitely going to wear me out. I had a feeling Dieter would enjoy it since the dance was more focused on the man’s performance, but I could already envision him whining about how tired he was.
They handed over the costume sketches, putting us both in all red again, which wasn’t unusual. Black and red were pretty typical looks for this dance. My costume had a Spanish feel to it with layers of fabric that bunched up in the back. It was shorter in the front and very flowy. It had a halter top with the same flowy fabric draped to cover the necessary areas, leaving the back completely open. They had Dieter in a red suit with a textured button up shirt. After approving the looks, we were pretty much done with the meeting. I was thankful this one was drama free. I did not need my day ruined by them.
After the meeting, we continued our tradition of grabbing lunch together. We settled on a small cafe nearby. The staff seated us on the outdoor patio, so we made sure to be on our best behavior because there were eyes everywhere. We were even approached by a few fans to take pictures and happily obliged. Dieter was all smiles as he interacted with them, seeming perfectly at ease while I was still trying to get used to having this much attention from strangers. He seemed to sense my anxiousness, smiling gently as he reached over to give my hand a quick squeeze after they left us.
(More after the graphic.)
We were off to the dance studio for rehearsals after that, beginning the week like we always did, by listening to our song. Dieter’s head bobbed along with the fast-paced Spanish and mediterranean style guitars mixed with folk undertones. It was obvious this would be different from anything we had done thus far.
Once the music concluded, I clapped my hands together dramatically, “Ok, Bravo. You’re probably about to love and hate this dance.”
His brows furrowed, “Why?”
I huffed out a laugh, “Because it’s dramatic and fun, but it’s also gonna wear your ass out.”
His brows arched as he gave me a wide-eyed stare, “I mean, you do that already.”
I rolled my eyes and fought a smile as I stood from where we were seated on the floor, then pulled him up to join me.
“So, the Paso Doble comes from sixteenth century Spain and France. It literally translates to ‘double step’ and it’s very high energy and very…theatrical…meant to imitate a bullfighter and his cape. You would be the matador in this instance…the star of the show. I need you to have strong posture and emote power with your body and facial expressions. I’ll be your cape, with more graceful and fluid movements at times. We’re gonna be doing sort of a marching style rhythm with staccato footwork along with that. Like I said, it’s fun…but tiring.”
Dieter gave me a tight smile, “Can we look at some videos of this before we get started? I feel like that might help get me going. I have a feeling what I’m envisioning ain’t it.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at him. At least he was honest. He went into full work mode after that, studying each video I pulled up for him. After an hour of video watching and making notes on some things that stood out to us, we got started on the basics. He picked those up quickly, allowing us to begin planning our choreography.
As predicted, Dieter was gasping for air and whining about being exhausted before the rehearsal time was over. Not that I could blame him, I was too. And it was only the first day. He was doing amazing though, and I made sure to tell him as much. I knew he would enjoy the theatrics of this dance which helped make up for how much work was involved.
We basically crashed when we got back to his place. After seven and a half hours of going non-stop, we were spent. We barely had the energy to eat dinner and shower before climbing into bed early, tangling ourselves up together and zonking out for the night.
We started our Wednesday morning off with Dieter receiving a text from Janine, his publicist. It was a link to a newly posted TMZ article.
I watched as he leaned across the kitchen island and scanned the article. His eyes crossed as he let out an annoyed groan and passed the phone to me.
(More after the graphic.)
Dieterina Spotted Getting Cozy During Lunch After Alleged On-Set Drama Dancing with the Stars (DWTS) fan favorites Dieter Bravo and Katarina Stamos were spotted having lunch at a LA cafe yesterday. Witnesses say they seemed very cozy and touchy during their meal in between posing for pictures with fans. This sighting comes after rumors began to circulate about a possible altercation between Dieter and Kat’s ex, professional dancer Alec Balaska, after last week's live show. If you recall, Dieter and Kat set the ballroom ablaze with their sultry performance and intense chemistry during their Argentine Tango, which earned them a perfect score for the week. It’s easy to see how that could have caused tensions to rise backstage. We have no confirmation that Dieter and Kat are officially an item, but they definitely seem to be getting close. TMZ sources have not confirmed the altercation took place, but we can confirm there have been schedule changes that appear to have happened in an effort to keep Dieter and Kat separated from Alec as much as possible. It must also be noted that Kat did not dance with the same group as Alec during last week’s professional performances, which could help back those claims. Alec was spotted out and about in LA with his DWTS partner and new love interest, Lana Thompson, earlier this week. He appeared to have bruises on his face but gave no response as to how he got them. His reps refused to comment. We reached out to Dieter’s publicist who also refused to comment on the situation.
Included with the article were pictures of Dieter and I at the cafe. There were several with his hand resting atop mine as he smiled my way. There were also several zoomed in stills of our Argentine Tango performance along with an embedded video and pictures of Alec and Lana seated in Alec’s car.
I sighed, “They really will post anything for clicks, won’t they?”
Dieter nodded, “Yep, bullshit…as usual. For all they know, he could have fallen on his face during rehearsal. It’s plausible…I’ve done it enough to know.”
I chuckled, nodding in agreement. Just as I was about to hand Dieter’s phone back, a text popped up. There was no name, only a number. I felt my stomach drop when I unintentionally read the message.
646-333-4545: It was nice bumping into you. Call me, so we can get together. I do miss having your mouth on me. 😉
I slid the phone toward him as I tried to control my breathing, “Umm…you have a text.”
He picked up his phone, brows furrowing in confusion as he read it. “I have no idea who that is…I’ve not bumped into anyone.”
I watched as he swiped, then selected ‘block’ on the screen.
I didn’t say anything, but my face must have. When he finally looked at me, I could see the worry in his eyes.
He began shaking his head as he approached me, “I swear I don’t know who that is…maybe that actress from New York? I haven’t bumped into anyone besides her…I didn’t even have the number saved. I-I’ve been getting a lot of texts like this since SNL…people trying to hit me up to party. I’ve blocked them all, you can check. Maybe I just need to get a new number…I deleted everyone I didn’t need to talk to when I got out of rehab. I swear…”
The longer he rambled, the more panicked he sounded. I took a deep centering breath, realizing I needed to give him some leniency. It was obvious he didn’t have the number saved, and that bitch had been pushy.
He continued, “I’ll get a new number, OK? I was thinking about doing it anyway because I’m pretty sure one of my dealers texted me the other day…I blocked him…just so we’re clear.”
I gave him a tight smile as I reached to cup his cheek, “Hey, it's OK. I believe you.”
He visibly relaxed into my touch, “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think I’m doing shady shit, because I’m not. I won’t do that to you.”
The rational part of my brain finally caught up to my emotions. We've spent ninety-five percent of our time together since we got back from New York. I would have noticed something if he was talking to other people. He was rarely on his phone, and when he was, I was usually at his side looking at it with him as we watched funny videos together.
I pulled him in for a hug, “It’s OK. I have no reason to think you’re lying.”
He backed away, “Imma text Evan right now actually…and have him take care of all that. I want zero doubts.”
And he did text Evan after that. I never would have asked him to change his number, but the fact that he offered and got right on it did make me feel better. Alec never would have offered. It was another reminder of how completely different they were.
Dieter made sure to take a few minutes to apologize, cuddling on the couch before I had to leave for the professional's dance rehearsal and him for his weekly therapy session. By the time I walked out the door with promises to meet up with him at the dance studio for our evening rehearsal, the whole incident was an afterthought.
The professional’s dance rehearsal definitely had a new vibe. I could tell other cast members were looking at me differently - curiosity maybe? I tried not to pay them any attention, allowing Marc to distract me from it when we weren’t receiving instructions. He and Stefanie both had become allies in this whole mess. Given that they knew what actually happened, I had to respect that they were keeping the information quiet while not so subtly choosing a side. Marc had mentioned that people were asking him what he knew, but he refused to comment. He really was a good guy, I hadn’t given him enough credit for that in the past.
Once we wrapped up rehearsal for the day, I made my way over to grab my water bottle. As I took small sips, I picked up my phone to scroll through the missed notifications. I had a text message from my sister asking why she hadn’t heard from me and telling me to call her. Since I had been spending all of my free time with Dieter, I had pretty much gone radio silent with her. I shot her a quick response, promising to call her the following day since we had a late rehearsal.
I was silently debating if I should tell my sister about my relationship with Dieter as I moved on to the Instagram notifications. My brows furrowed when I came to the notification that said, ‘bangingbravo1 was live (45 min ago)’. Well, that’s new.
I quickly collected my things, telling Marc goodbye as I made my way to the car. After tossing my bag into the back, I sank down into the driver’s seat, pulling my phone out as I closed and locked the doors. My curiosity was making me anxious to see what Dieter was up to since this wasn’t something he normally did. I wasted no time opening Instagram and clicking the notification. He was no longer live, but the video was posted to his story.
It appeared that he was sitting in the same spot he had been in when he and I played guitars together all those weeks ago. His black acoustic sat perched on his lap as he briefly fiddled with the camera. He then proceeded to strum and tune the instrument for a short time before glancing up and smiling, welcoming his growing number of viewers. He took a few minutes, answering questions that popped up - some about Zee, some about his plants. Someone must have asked about me, causing him to smirk as he explained that I was at dance rehearsal for the professionals, noting that he and I would be rehearsing later in the day. Then he cleared his throat, getting to the reason for going live.
“So…I’ve been getting a lot of messages and comments asking me to do more playing and singing. I hear you…so, we’re gonna give this a try and see how it goes.”
A soft curl fell down over his eyes as he glanced down to place his hands and began strumming a bluesy intro. His demeanor shifted, seeming almost melancholy as he began to sing.
This song has two very different versions and I love both. Give them a listen. 🎶Version 1 🎶 Version 2
When the sins of my father / Weigh down in my soul / And the pain of my mother / Will not let me go / Well, I know there can come fire from the sky / To refine the purest of kings / And even though I know this fire brings me pain / Even so, And just the same
His voice was full of emotion and grit as his unblinking eyes fixed on something just out of frame. He sounded soulful, but there was an edge of pain to the lyrics as they appeared to have deeper meaning to him. I knew him well enough to know that he was feeling the words, seeming to dredge up old memories or feelings. It had me wondering what he had discussed with his therapist that morning, because I knew he didn’t pick that song at random. Music was an outlet for him. It meant something.
All seed needs the water / Before it grows out of the ground / But it just keeps on getting hard / And the hunger more profound / Well, I know there can come tears from the eyes / But they may as well all be in vain / Even though I know these tears come with pain / Even so, And just the same
His line of sight drifted, appearing to focus on nothing as he took on a far-away look. A deep crease formed between his brows, his eyes turning somewhat glassy as he belted out the next verse. I had never seen him like this, but I knew that look all too well from experience. He was reliving something from his past. Something painful that had potentially shaped him into the man he had become - both the old and new version of himself.
And let the clouds fill with thunderous applause / And let lightning be the veins / And fill the sky with all that they can drop / When it's time to make a change
As he finished out the song with the last few refrains of the chorus, I realized tears were streaming down my cheeks. Every hair on my body was standing on end as my flesh pebbled from the sound of his voice. I could feel it in my soul. The connection that he and I seemed to share only made me feel it that much deeper. I couldn’t recall anything ever having affected me like this before.
After the last lyric left his lips, he inhaled deeply to center himself. He sat silently for a beat, then his eyes flicked up to the camera. They were pools of emotion as he gave a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He was obviously reading the flood of comments filling the stream. Then he finally spoke.
“You all are too kind…it’s more than I probably deserve.”
He paused, swallowing thickly as he continued to read the comments. He nodded, “I’ll uhh, yeah, I’ll do another live soon…thank you.”
After saying his goodbyes, the stream ended. I had to take a moment to pull myself together. We were supposed to meet at the dance studio for rehearsal in an hour and a half, but I couldn’t wait. Something told me that I needed to go to him. So, I did.
When I got to his house, I knocked and rang the doorbell, but there was no answer. Figuring he was still upstairs and maybe couldn’t hear it, I tried the doorknob. To my surprise, it was unlocked. So, I let myself in and headed toward his sanctuary.
I found him with wireless headphones on, slouched back into the chair and lazily strumming the strings on his guitar. He still had that vacant far-away look in his eyes as he stared at nothing. My movement in the doorway must have caught his attention because his eyes snapped toward me as he paused his motions.
His brows furrowed as he pulled the headphones off, giving a small smile as he asked, “What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at the dance studio?”
Moving toward him, I could tell something was off. He looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and I hated it. As I stood in front of him, our gazes met. He sighed, then placed the guitar back on its stand next to the chair and set the headphones on the floor beside it. His eyes met mine as he worried at his bottom lip with his teeth.
“Are you OK?” I finally asked.
His shoulders slumped as he leaned back in his seat and scratched at his patchy beard, now avoiding my gaze.
“No. But I’m gettin’ there. One day at a time…”
My feet carried me forward as I reached to run my hands through the top of his messy curls. He sighed as his arms found their way around my waist, pulling me to him so he could rest his head against my chest. I needed to be closer, shifting so that I could raise first the right, then the left leg to straddle his lap. He hugged me tighter as he buried his face into the curve of my neck and inhaled deeply. I could feel him relaxing more and more with each breath that he took.
He lifted his head, pressing it against mine as he hugged me just a little tighter.
“Thank you for coming. I needed this…needed you.”
My nose brushed against his, “You have me. Tell me what you need from me.”
He shook his head, “I…I don’t know.”
My right hand moved to his chest. I could feel his heart thrumming away under my palm as his eyes pooled with tears and his breathing became shallow. He seemed lost. I needed to bring him back and ground him to the present.
After extracting myself from his embrace, I stood, taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom. I pulled him into a deep kiss, eventually breaking away to slowly undress him and trail soft touches and kisses along his body. His hands explored every inch of newly exposed skin as I undressed myself next. Once we were bare, I led him to the bed where we both lay down facing each other. He pulled me against him, tangling limbs together as we held each other. His face found its way back to the curve of my neck as he took deep and steady breaths to calm himself. I cradled his head against me, gently running my fingers through his fluffy curls to soothe him.
We stayed like that for a time. Strangely, it didn’t feel sexual at all. Yet, it had to be one of the most intimate moments I had ever experienced with another person. He was showing me his vulnerability, sharing his pain with me as our bare skin touched from head to toe - allowing ourselves to be connected physically and emotionally without judgement. The intensity of it was scary but also mixed with a strange feeling of relief and security. It was a hard feeling to wrap my head around as I tried to stay present for him.
Once his breathing settled to normal, he pulled away to meet my gaze with a serene expression. His eyes danced around my face as his hand glided up and down the side of my body. I would give anything to know what was going on in his head at that moment. The way he was looking at me caused the air to crackle around us. It felt like there was something he wanted to say, but instead, he leaned forward and captured my lips with his. It was slow, passionate, and needy.
We melted into each other, further deepening the connection that I currently felt humming between us. As I moved against him, touching and tasting his skin, I could feel his hardness growing and rubbing against my center. He groaned into my mouth as I began to grind against it, coating his length in my arousal. He wasted no time shifting so that he was between my thighs and sinking in to the hilt as he caged me in between his arms. His hips didn’t move, but he continued to kiss me deeply as I hugged him tightly.
Several minutes passed before we broke apart. His hips finally began their painfully slow thrusts as we got lost in each other's eyes. This didn’t feel like it was about the sex for him. Maybe it was his way of staying grounded in the present. Or, perhaps it was about strengthening whatever bond was forming between us. Maybe it was even a little bit of both. There were definitely some strong emotions swirling around us as we moved together. It was almost overwhelming, causing my chest to tighten and tears to prickle at the corners of my eyes.
There was no question about it now, I was in love with him. It ran deeper than it ever had with Alec or anyone else. The realization caused my heart to race as the anxiety set in. Was this too fast? Too soon? We’re either of us really ready for this?
Dieter seemed to sense the shift in my thoughts, reaching to run his fingertips down the side of my face as he nudged his nose against mine. It helped calm me some but did nothing to dampen the sudden and intense rush of emotions I was feeling for him.
The languid pace in which he was moving drew out how long this all lasted, but it felt right. We were completely lost in each other, causing the world around us to blur and cease to exist. It was the slowest build to a release that I had ever experienced. When I finally fell over the edge, it was intense and euphoric, seeming to go on forever. I felt like I was floating and the only thing keeping me tethered to this plane was Dieter. He followed behind me soon after, unable to hold it back as my walls contracted around him. He pressed his forehead against mine, his eyes clenching shut as he spilled into me with a deep groan that turned to quiet whimpers with the last few thrusts of his hips.
He sighed heavily against my lips, clearly savoring the high he was riding after his release. I peppered small kisses around his face as I brushed back his sweaty curls. His dark eyes finally opened, meeting mine before capturing my mouth with his. He broke away to catch his breath, both of us still gulping for air as we took each other in.
He eventually shifted to lay facing me as I turned toward him. His hand slid around my waist to pull me closer. We were nose to nose when he finally spoke, “I think I should maybe tell you why I had such a strong reaction to the Alec thing…it’s sort of the root of everything…why I am the way I am…”
I took a deep breath, “Ok…but I don’t want you to feel like you have to. Only tell me if you want to…and if you’re ready.”
He nodded, “I want to…I think it’ll help you understand me a little better…and…my therapist thinks I should tell you too.”
I gave him a small smile as I reached to scratch at the scruff on his cheek, continuing to lazily rub in circles as he began to speak.
“I…didn’t have the best childhood growing up. My dad…he was an asshole. I can’t remember a time when he didn’t abuse my mom, but it got progressively worse over the years. I couldn’t tell you how many times I sat with her or tried to take care of her after he bloodied her up. I remember always feeling helpless when I was younger…I wanted to protect her, but I couldn’t.”
He paused, sighing heavily as he reached for my hand that was still rubbing at his scruff and entwined our fingers to rest on the bed between us.
“Of course, that was when she still cared about life…about me. At some point she started drinking…which ultimately made things worse with him. It got to the point where she stayed wasted all the time and didn’t really seem to care about anything. By the time I was a teenager, I was pretty much taking care of myself. My dad left me alone for the most part, until I started interfering with their fights…trying to protect her.”
He swallowed thickly as his eyes turned glassy, “I thought…maybe if I could protect her…that I could get her back…matter to her again. You know what I mean? I just felt so alone…abandoned even…just existing. It only made things worse though. My dad no longer held back from directing his anger at me and it just seemed to push my mom further away.”
He scoffed as he squeezed my hand a little tighter, “Hell, there were times I think she was happy he was taking it out on someone besides her.”
I could see the pain that realization caused him as a deep crease formed between his brows. He stared, unblinking, at our intertwined hands as he continued.
“When I was in high school, I joined the drama club. For once, I had several close friends. That’s when I realized my sexual preferences…varied…and I started exploring my preferences within that group. Anyway, there was this one guy I spent a lot of time with. It wasn’t serious, but we had a thing. I guess someone saw us together at the mall and we were obvious about it. Word got back to my dad, and he absolutely lost his shit over it. No son of his was gonna be like that. He called me every slur you can think of while he tried to ‘beat the gayness out of me’. That was one of the times I snapped on him. I got in a few good hits, but he still beat the hell out of me.”
The tears finally spilled down his cheeks. He sniffled a little before he continued.
“It was pretty bad…and the sad part was…my mom couldn’t bother to care. She didn’t check on me once. After spending a day in bed and feeling like I was dying, I managed to drag myself over to Evan’s house. I lied and told everyone I got mugged. His mom ended up taking me to the ER…I had a concussion and a couple of broken ribs. Of course, all my parents cared about was the astronomical hospital bill.”
It was my turn for tears now. My heart was breaking for him. I squeezed his hand tighter as I gave him a sympathetic look.
He sighed and finally met my gaze, “It got pretty unbearable after that. I couldn’t stand being at home. My dad was constantly belittling me and saying things that made me feel like I was a dirty abomination. My mom even said she was disappointed in my behavior at one point...I think that’s when I really started to hate myself. I didn’t feel like I was worthy of being loved or happy…I started having some pretty dark thoughts.”
He paused briefly, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he considered what to say next.
“Eventually…Evan’s mom took me in after she figured out what was going on. She helped me through the emancipation process so they couldn’t have control over me anymore…but the damage was done. I had already started self-medicating with alcohol…and after I got my big break in Hollywood with money to burn, the slow spiral started. Honestly, I’m not even sure how I’m still alive after some of the shit I’ve done.”
“What made you finally wanna change things?” I asked.
He shrugged, “After my third overdose, my agent gave me an ultimatum…either get sober or I was done. None of the studios wanted to work with me anymore because I was a liability…and by that point Evan had quit working for me. He was tired of my shit. I was also damn near bankrupt. Everything just sort of converged and blew up on me at once. So, I took that last stint in rehab seriously. I had sort of an epiphany about getting my life together and wanted to learn how to be happy…exercise the demons out of my life. Somehow, I found a way to do it, but it’s still a struggle some days. Sometimes I get triggered and wanna go back to that dark place…but I’m slowly learning how to cope with it. I’ve found new ways to channel that energy into something positive.”
I suddenly felt a wave of anxiety hit me, realizing that the drama with Alec had been a trigger for him. I felt like shit over it.
“I’m sorry that I involved you with the Alec stuff. I didn’t realize the sort of effect it was having on you.”
He shook his head, “No, it’s ok. I was worried about you more than anything. I didn’t want you to get hurt…or lose yourself to him. I wanted to keep you safe…and the fact that you gave me a chance…trusted me with that…it meant more to me than you realize.”
I sighed, “But when you found us in the dressing room, I could see it. It did something to you beyond being upset about what he did.”
His brows furrowed, “It was just…the fact that I wanted to inflict pain on him…it scared me a little. I was worried that I was more like my dad than I realized…that a part of me was violent enough to do the things he did…because I really wanted to. Then I was also afraid that I had scared you…that you would think I was no better than Alec. I didn’t want you to think that I could treat you the same way.”
My lips set into a tight line. I was determined to make him see himself as I do.
“You’re nothing like either of those men. I know this. You’re just fiercely protective of those you care about…If anything, you’re a nurturer. You’re selfless and enjoy caring for others. You’re an amazing person and worthy of everything good that life brings to you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe that.”
From the way his face scrunched up, I could tell he was fighting back his emotions. I pulled him against me, allowing him to bury his face against my neck as I hugged him. His arms tightened around me as his shoulders began to shake with his quiet sobs. His sniffles became a little more frequent as he allowed himself to feel whatever it was he was feeling.
He was right, knowing about his past did help me understand him better. His past self-destructive behavior and difficulty with relationships made so much more sense. The fact that he had shared this with me so willingly showed me that he was trying to break the cycle and connect with me in ways that he never had with anyone else. He was still putting in the work to better himself and be happy.
I continued to sooth him for a time, until he finally pulled away as he wiped his face with a tentative smile, causing his eyes to crinkle around the edges. Realizing that he was obviously feeling better, I gave him an encouraging smile in return.
“You somehow always seem to know what I need before I do. Thank you for not being afraid to show me,” he finally said.
I chuckled, “I don’t really know. I just know what I would want under the circumstances.”
He hummed as he nuzzled his nose against mine, “So…naked cuddling and slow, mind-blowing sex? Noted.”
I laughed. It was nice to see his sense of humor returning.
“Sooo…were you and Evan a thing at one point?” I asked. I couldn’t help being curious about it.
Dieter snorted, “Hell no. We were in the drama club together, but he doesn't swing that way. Never has. He likes boobs too much. He was there for the chics.”
I snickered, “Good to know. I didn’t get those vibes between you two, but I had to ask. I didn’t realize he’d been around for that long.”
He smiled, “Oh yeah, we go way back. I’m not sure I could trust anyone else to handle my stuff the way he does. He actually looks out for me and has my best interest in mind…calls me on my shit when he needs to. I’ve had other assistants that just wanted to enable my bad behavior so they could party and take advantage of me in some way. I can’t be having that anymore.”
I couldn’t help wondering about his parents after that. He seemed to notice something was on my mind and asked what I was thinking about.
“Have you had any contact with your parents since you left?” I asked.
His lips set into a tight line, “Umm well…my mom pretty much drank herself to death. She died years ago…but my dad…I think he’s still around somewhere. It’s been a while, but I’ll occasionally get a call asking for money. I don’t give him shit. That goes over about like you would expect. He hasn’t changed much. He’s still an asshole.”
I sighed, “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged, “It is what it is. I can’t change him. I can only change myself and how I respond to him.”
We soon noticed the time, realizing that we were going to be late for our evening rehearsal. After rushing around, we eventually made it to the studio. I think Dieter was happy for the distraction, quickly settling into our routine and focusing on the performance. He was back to his goofy and smiley self, having fun as we tried out a couple of different options for the choreography. At times we behaved a little less professionally as our bodies moved together with lingering touches and lips brushing against any skin they could get near without being completely obvious to anyone who might be passing by.
Things were definitely evolving between us, yet again. After the events from earlier in the day, I could tell something had changed. It was like all of the broken pieces of our being were slowly falling back into place and somehow converging into one. With every new piece that found its place, our connection steadily grew. Part of me questioned if it was real or just being overblown and intensified by the circumstances we found ourselves in. I hated to think like that, but it was something to consider.
After rehearsals, I found myself back at Dieter’s house. It was late, so we settled on something quick for dinner. Dieter made sandwiches that were fancier than anything I had ever put together between two pieces of bread. He was incapable of doing things halfway it seemed.
We got ready for bed after that, going through our newly established routine. We didn’t even bother changing into sleep clothes, now opting to sleep in nothing instead. I crawled into bed, snuggling in while Dieter shut off the lights and made sure the door was cracked for Zee. He slid under the blankets, reaching to pull me against him and tangle our limbs together. After burying his face in my hair, he sighed in contentment and squeezed me just a little tighter. He was asleep within minutes, and I wasn’t too far behind him.
When I awoke the next morning, Dieter was still snoring lightly against the back of my shoulder. I could just make out Zee’s paw stretched out across the side of his head and disappearing into his mess of curls as she snoozed behind him. I moved to get up, but Dieter groaned and stiffened his arm that was thrown over my middle.
I chuckled and whined, “Diiieter, I’ve gotta peeee.”
He huffed as he mumbled out a gravelly, “Fine.” Then he turned, snuggling Zee instead. “Guess I’ll just cuddle my other cat then.”
I laughed at his ridiculousness, shaking my head as I made my way to the bathroom. Once I was finished, I took the opportunity to swipe another one of Dieter’s t-shirts that said ‘Stay Horny for Art’ in large letters across the front. It had me shaking my head all over again as I slipped it on and walked out into the bedroom. I made my way over to his side of the bed, leaning down to ruffle his hair before giving him a quick kiss.
“I’m gonna go get breakfast started.”
He grabbed my hand, kissing the top of it before groaning and hiding his face from the sunlight that was beginning to sneak through the curtains. I smiled to myself as I pulled away and made my way downstairs. He was too adorable when he was half asleep and needy.
I was obviously nowhere as good of a cook as Dieter, so I decided to keep it simple. As I was digging through the pantry for pancake ingredients I heard movement in the kitchen. Assuming it was Dieter, I called out to ask, “Do you know where the…”
My words trailed off as I walked out of the pantry to find a petite woman, most likely in her early fifties, with short dark red hair, and a scowl on her face. I stopped in my tracks, taken off guard by her sudden appearance.
She stood with her hands on her hips as she looked me up and down, “I thought he was done bringing hussies home?”
I nearly choked on my own spit as I sucked in a breath. I shook my head, “No… I’m not…”
She sighed, “Did he relapse again? I’m gonna kick his ass if he did…then quit.”
That took me by surprise. I liked her already. Spitfire indeed.
I held my hands out in surrender, “No…he’s fine. He’s still in bed, asleep. You must be Cora, I presume?”
She seemed taken aback that I knew who she was, her face shifting from frustration to confusion before she nodded.
I gave her what I hoped was a polite smile, “I’m Kat. Dieter’s dance partner…”
I could tell when the realization hit because her eyes widened and her mouth fell open slightly before she finally spoke, “I’m not sure what to do with this...”
I chuckled, “It’s ok…I think this is a learning experience for all of us.”
Dieter chose that moment to come shuffling into the kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of grey gym shorts and black crocs with Zee at his heels on a mission for breakfast. He came to stand next to me so he could wrap his arm around my waist and give me a quick kiss on the cheek, smiling lazily as he turned toward Cora, “I see you’ve finally met my lady. I hope you weren’t too hard on her…”
Cora’s eyebrows lifted up to her hairline as she studied Dieter. If I had to guess, I could only assume he had never acted this way toward anyone in front of her before. She gave a hesitant smile, “Dieter…you wanna tell me what’s going on?”
He pulled me snugly against his chest, “Well…we’re not exactly making it public yet…but Kat and I are together.”
“Together?” she asked. As if she needed confirmation.
He nodded as he fought a laugh, “Yeah…together. Like…a couple. Dating. Courting. Whatever your generation calls it.”
She gave him an admonishing look, “My generation? I’m not that much older than you, you little shit. You’ll be fifty in no time.”
I clapped a hand over my mouth to hold in the laughter that was threatening to escape. Dieter, on the other hand, cackled over her words. I could already see why he hired her. She was his kind of people.
Cora rolled her eyes at him before changing the subject back to us. “Well, this makes sense. I knew something was going on with you…you’ve been different lately. I just thought you were slipping back into your old habits and tryin’ ta hide it. I’m happy to see that’s not the case.”
She paused, giving me a mischievous smile before looking back at Dieter. “Looks like you’ve made a good decision for once. I’m not getting floozy, gold digging vibes from this one.”
Dieter chuckled as he turned to look at me with a dimpling smile, “No. She’s definitely not a floozy or a gold digger…she’s perfect.”
He had that sappy look in his eyes as they danced around my face. His smile widened as my cheeks flushed from his gaze and the words he said so freely. I could feel my heart fluttering in my chest as the thoughts of what that feeling meant, bounced around in my head. I refused to acknowledge it by name, but I knew what it was. The fact that I was falling so hard, so fast, had my mind reeling. I had to quickly pivot my train of thought before a spiral started. My attention shifted back to Cora, who was watching us intently, with a toothy smile.
Dieter invited her to sit for breakfast as he shuffled things around on the top shelf of the pantry to find the pancake ingredients. After refusing to let me help, I joined Cora on a stool at the island to watch Dieter cook. We slipped into an easy conversation, getting to know each other a little better while also teasing Dieter in any way we could. She was quickly becoming one of my new favorite people. It made me happy to know this was who Dieter was choosing to surround himself with now, even if she was hired help.
Since we didn’t have to be in rehearsal until later in the day, we spent some time lazing about in the pool. Not a minute passed that we weren’t touching each other in some way - be it laying back against his chest as he whispered sweetly in my ear while we lounged in the shallows or wrapped in his arms as he held me tightly and spoke in a low voice against my lips between kisses in the deep water. It never felt sexual. We were content just being wrapped up in each other as we bonded through touch and conversation. It made me realize how serious he was in not making our relationship about sex.
He opened himself up to me in a way I didn’t think anyone ever had, holding nothing back and giving me every part of himself. There was a lightness to him now, like everything that once weighed him down had been discarded and left in the past. It made me hopeful for him, and for us. His smile and happiness were infectious and warm. He was the sun and my light, teaching me how to find my confidence and love myself again. However, in the back of my mind I still had a worry that I was allowing him to affect me too much, too soon. I knew he had the power to break me in a way that Alec couldn’t, but he had given me more than enough reasons to trust that he wouldn’t.
After spending a good amount of time in the pool, we decided to relax and read on a chaise lounger. Dieter sat down, then allowed me to sit between his thighs and recline against his chest as I read aloud from the pages of Dan Brown’s The Lost Symbol. This eventually shifted into a debate about US government conspiracy theories which had us in fits of giggles as we argued our points for and against each one. We were into a deep conversation about the Roswell crash when my phone rang on the table next to us with an incoming FaceTime call. Dieter reached for it and handed it to me.
Seeing my sister’s name flash on the screen elicited a sigh from me. “I probably better answer this. She’s been giving me hell because I haven’t called her in a few weeks.”
Dieter shifted to get up and give me some privacy, but I stopped him, “No. Stay. I might as well tell her what I’ve been up to in my free time…”
He gave me a nervous look as he settled back into the seat. I took a deep breath then hit the ‘answer’ button, careful to keep the camera focused on my face for now as I smiled into it.
“Lydia, hey…how are you?”
She looked annoyed, “About damn time you answered. Why haven’t you called me?”
I smiled nervously, “Oh you know…I’ve been busy with rehearsals…”
She scoffed, “You’re never this busy with rehearsals…”
I scoffed back, “Well, I typically don’t make it this far into the competition to keep me this busy with rehearsals…”
She paused for a beat, considering my response. “Fair point. I guess I’ll let it slide…How come you’re not rehearsing now?”
I pushed a stray piece of hair away that was blowing in my face, “Our schedule got moved around a bit. We have an evening rehearsal today.”
She nodded, “Well…what’s been going on? I haven’t talked to you in weeks. Has Alec been an issue?”
I grimaced and shrugged, “You know…it’s Alec. I’m just avoiding him as much as I can and trying to move on…”
Something in my demeanor must have tipped her off, causing her eyes to narrow slightly. “And how is the moving on going? I feel like you’ve been very…nonchalant about this whole thing…”
I pursed my lips, “I mean…I was kind of over his shit before the thing with Lana happened. So, it’s like a weight has been lifted, honestly.”
Her eyes narrowed further, “Where are you right now?”
I could tell Dieter was holding in laughter, causing me to fight a smile as I replied. “I’m hanging out by the pool at a friend’s house.”
Dieter was shaking now, burying his face in the back of my hair to muffle his giggles. My teeth sunk into my bottom lip in an attempt to hide my smile as I angled the phone just right to cut him out of frame.
Lydia’s eyebrow arched. She was not amused with my evasive answers. “How are things going with your dance partner? You’ve hardly said anything about him…”
I couldn’t help smirking at that question, “It’s going good…he’s a good dancer…and we get along.”
Her face told me she was on to my bullshit while her voice feigned ignorance. “Hm, well that’s good. I guess that’s why you have such good chemistry on the dance floor then…”
I chuckled, “Well, he is an Oscar winning actor. He knows how to play a role well…”
I could tell Dieter was about to lose what little composure he had over that line. I wasn’t too far behind him.
Lydia sighed, “Kat…just tell me what the hell is going on. I’m not an idiot…something is up with you. Did something happen with him?”
I scrunched up my nose, “You really wanna know?”
She sighed, “Kat, seriously?” She paused and rubbed at the crease between her brows as she continued, “So there is something to that TMZ article then? Please tell me he at least fucked some sense into you and made ya realize that Alec was a shitty lay?”
Dieter snorted out a laugh before clapping his hand over his mouth. I grimaced while trying to hold in my own laughter. Lydia’s brows furrowed in confusion.
I glanced up at Dieter with a questioning look. After getting a nod of approval from him, I stretched my arms out in front of us so that we both fit into the frame. Dieter smiled sheepishly and waved. Lydia gasped out a shocked, “Oh shit!” before accidentally dropping her phone.
Dieter and I burst into laughter as the blurred images on the screen bounced around before finally focusing back on her shocked face. She sat there staring with her mouth hanging open as she processed what she was seeing.
Dieter chuckled before finally speaking, “Hi, Lydia! I’m sorry I’ve been keeping your sister from you. I swear it’s not on purpose.”
Her mouth finally snapped shut, “Wow, OK. So, this is like…happening then?”
I nodded with a smile, “Yeah, it kind of is…”
She looked overwhelmed now as she sputtered out, “How?...When?…Does Alec know?…” She paused, then gasped out, “Did you cheat on Alec? Please say yes.”
Dieter buried his face in my neck as he laughed at her. I shook my head and chuckled, “No. No cheating. It was after I ended things with Alec…in New York. Dieter’s been really supportive with everything and was looking out for me. We had gotten close and…it just sort of…happened.”
I reached up behind me to cup his cheek. He wasted no time lacing his fingers through mine as he turned his head to kiss the palm of my hand and pulled it away to nuzzle his cheek against the side of my head.
Lydia looked absolutely dumbfounded as she mumbled out, “Holy shit. So, you’re like together, together? This isn’t a fling type thing?”
I scoffed, “No, you know I’m not into that.”
She laughed, “I KNEW something was going on with him! I could tell from the way you look at him when you’re dancing on the show.”
Dieter and I snickered before I continued, “Well, we’re not going public yet. The producers are trying hard to make this a thing and I refuse to let them. Alec suspects, but I don’t wanna give him any more ammunition to come at us. I just wanna make it through this season with as little drama as possible and be done with it all.”
She nodded before her expression shifted to one of worry. “So, how has it been going…with you two?”
The question seemed innocent enough, but her tone told another story. Dieter sighed quietly, then leaned in next to my ear, “I’m gonna go get us something to drink and give you two some time to chat.”
I felt my stomach drop and hoped that hadn’t upset him as I shifted so that he could get up. He gave me a quick kiss on the top of the head before he disappeared inside.
My eyes shifted back to the phone, “Did you really have to ask that right now?”
She huffed out a nervous laugh, “What do you mean?”
It was my turn to narrow my eyes, “You know what I mean…you and your disapproving tone.”
She sighed, “It’s not disapproval…it’s concern. You just got out of a very long term engagement with an asshole and immediately got with Dieter Bravo of all people? He has a reputation ya know. I just worry is all.”
I couldn’t argue with her logic. Those same thoughts had already crossed my mind on more than one occasion.
My brows furrowed, “I completely understand where you’re coming from…I’ve thought about that too. It is fast, but we were building a solid friendship beforehand. It’s not like I just met him last week. And Dieter…he’s not what you would expect…certainly not what I expected. He’s actually very caring and sweet. He’s been working really hard on himself…and he really is a good person. We’ve connected in a way that I’ve never connected with anyone before…”
She puffed air through her cheeks as she rubbed at her temple, “Oh Kat…you’ve got it bad, don’t you?”
I sighed, “Yeah, I think I do…I mean, the man is learning to make Greek food for me…and he’s always worried about how I’m feeling after rehearsals. He makes a point to take care of me…cooking, hot baths, massages…Alec always acted like my body aches were such a damn burden. And Dieter…he’s so open about everything…his past, his feelings. He’s the complete opposite of Alec in every way. How could I not have it bad with that?”
Lydia let out a low whistle, “Damn, sis…he almost sounds too good to be true. What about his reputation though? The whoring around and partying? Doesn’t that worry you?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. It was frustrating, but I understood where she was coming from.
“He’s been sober for ten months and hasn’t been with anyone else for even longer than that. He’s been taking it seriously…We’ve talked through why he used to do those things and he’s working through it…I-I trust him. He’s not that person any more. He’s already proved that to me in a million different ways.”
She grimaced slightly, “Are you sure this isn’t another one of your ‘I can fix him’ phases?”
I scoffed, “I should be offended by that…but I kind of deserved it. I-It’s not that. Dieter doesn’t need me to fix him. He was already fixing himself before he met me. He did that part on his own.”
That seemed to alleviate some of her worries, causing her features to relax. “Well, that’s good to hear at least.”
I huffed out a laugh, “Hell, if anything he’s fixing me...”
Lydia snickered, “So he’s good in bed then…”
I couldn’t help rolling my eyes as I fought a smile, “That’s not what I was referring to, but yes…he is. He’s very attentive, skilled…adventurous…and he knows how to read me. No direction needed. It’s…more than just sex with him too…it’s always very intimate…during and after.”
I paused, briefly laughing to myself as I thought about mine and Dieter’s previous conversation we had in this very spot. “When we got back from New York, he invited me over to stay with him…he didn’t wanna have sex that night. He said he didn’t want it to be all about that with us. We didn’t do it again for like a week. He’s all about exploring all forms of intimacy.”
Lydia’s eyes nearly bulged out her head with that news. “Fuuuck, ok. He just won me over because that’s a major turn on.”
I laughed, “Right? You understand now? And I haven’t even told you about his cat and plants.”
Lydia looked intrigued, however, Dieter chose that moment to emerge from the house carrying two glasses of lemonade.
I murmured out a quick “I’ll fill you in on that later,” as I turned to smile up at him. I scooted forward so he could take his seat behind me after he set the glasses on the small table beside us. He wasted no time wrapping his arms around my waist and hugging me tightly against his chest.
“Alright ladies, what did I miss?” he asked in a playful tone.
Lydia bit back a laugh, “Kat was just telling me that you’re awesome in the sack.”
I could feel my cheeks flush, “Fucking hell, Lyd. Shut up.”
Dieter vibrated from laughter behind me, shaking his head as he spoke. “Well, I guess there are worse things she could be saying.”
We fell into easy conversation after that, somehow dragging Lydia into our prior discussion about conspiracy theories. They were both laughing and already throwing jokes at one another. I could tell she liked him which gave me some comfort. After we hung up, a text message immediately pinged from Lydia.
Lydia: OK. I get it now. Hot. Fucking hilarious. Worships you. I approve. 👏👏👏
I smiled and showed it to Dieter, who howled with laughter. He was feeling pretty smug, having won the affections of my sister.
Soon after that, relaxation time was up. We had to get to the studio for a rather exhausting rehearsal. Given that the Paso Doble is a fast paced, Latin style dance, it didn’t take long before we were running on fumes, but the choreography was really beginning to come together by this point in the week. Dieter was having fun with the fact that most of the attention for this dance was on him and allowed him to show a little bit of sass and attitude. He was definitely playing up those attributes, and I was enjoying every second of it. Especially after he declared the room felt like an inferno and peeled his sweaty shirt off over his head.
(Click images to enlarge so you don't miss anything. More after the jump.)
The constant rehearsals were definitely having an effect on his body, toning all the right muscles and slimming him down slightly. He looked amazing and I could tell he was feeling it too. He seemed more confident in himself, which only led to more torture for me. It was obvious he was intentionally flaunting the goods to get me worked up - not that I was complaining. I didn’t mind seeing more skin or watching the muscles in his chest, arms, and back flex as he moved around the dance floor. It was quickly becoming one of my favorite sights. Especially when he added that sexy smirk of his to the mix.
After rehearsal, Dieter went to pick up takeout for us while I ran home to check on things and resupply on clothes and the essentials before I made my way over to his house. He was just setting Zee’s dinner down on her mat when I walked in. They seemed to be having some sort of standoff over the evening’s meal selection as he placed his hands on his hips and huffed down at her. She sat defiantly staring up at him as her tail flicked back and forth. I rolled my lips together to hold in my laugh as I watched Zee meow loudly, which elicited a heavy sigh from Dieter.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. There’s nothing wrong with it, woman. You don’t have to have freshly cooked protein with every meal.”
She meowed again, then glanced at her plate before shifting her eyes back to his. He rolled his eyes and puffed air out of his cheeks before stalking over to the pantry, then emerged with a pouch of tuna. Clearly losing the battle with his furry little menace. Zee seemed more enthusiastic about her dinner as she watched him spoon a small amount out on top of her food. Finally, a compromise.
Dieter turned his attention to me with an exasperated look on his face. “I think I have unintentionally created a monster,” he said through a chuckle.
I walked over toward the island to unpack our dinner as I snickered, “It seems so…but I gotta say, watching you two battle it out has become one of my favorite pastimes. She’s got you wrapped around her little paw.”
He came to stand behind me, grazing his nose up the side of my neck as he wrapped his arms around me. “What can I say? I live to serve my two ladies. I’m your bitch and I have no shame to say it.”
I snorted out a laugh as I sank back against him, turning to give him a quick kiss. He pulled away with a smile, “Speaking of…I got you some spanakopita…and after you eat, we’re taking a hot bath. If my body hurts this bad, I know yours has to.”
I smiled up at him, “Sounds like a plan. I am feeling quite achy this evening.”
His lips set into a tight line, “I’ll make you some herbal tea. It’ll help. Now…go sit. Get off your feet. I’ll handle all this.”
The no nonsense look on his face told me there was no arguing. So, I did as he said. He had a plate full of food and a glass of water in front of me within minutes, making sure I was taken care of before he sat down beside me. When we finished, he put everything away while I spent a few minutes cuddling Zee and drinking my fresh cup of herbal tea. He soon disappeared upstairs to run the bath, and I followed several minutes later.
I found Dieter undressed down to his boxer briefs and leaning over the side of the tub, checking the water temperature and adding some Epsom salt. The sight of him caused my pulse to quicken. When he turned and gave me his sexy little smirk, I thought my heart would explode out of my chest. Without a word, he stood to grab a brush and began to meticulously brush the knots out of my hair caused by today’s rehearsal. Then he twisted it up and secured it with a flat clip. He proceeded to undress me, taking his time to allow his hands and lips to gently explore my body before helping me into the tub.
Dieter settled in on the opposite end, immediately taking one of my feet into his large hands and began massaging. I relaxed into the water, enjoying the feel of the jets spraying along my body and Dieter’s touch. We sat staring at each other in silence, the air around us electric as we simply existed together. His lips tugged upward as his fingers dipped down to rub at that spot on my foot, causing my thighs to clench. My teeth sunk into my bottom lip as I narrowed my eyes in his direction.
The smirk was back now, “What’s the matter Kitten? You need something from me?”
I further relaxed into the water, “I think you’re the one being naughty right now, Bravo.”
His brows arched, “Let me show you how naughty I can be. Just lay back and relax. Don’t fight the sensations. Imma show you how nerve endings work.”
I did as he asked, trying to loosen up and just feel as our eyes remained locked in an intense stare. His thumbs got to work, gradually increasing pressure in the spots he knew would get me worked up. I could feel the tingle begin in my foot, eventually shooting up directly to my core. My first instinct was to pull away just because it was an odd sensation. It caused his grip to tighten as he tsked at me, “Relax, Kitten. Don’t fight it. Feel it.”
He continued the same pressure with his thumb, allowing me a moment to become accustomed to the sensation. I was soon panting under his touch, my thighs tensing as my center sought out more friction. It was as if I was suspended right on the edge, close enough to feel something but never completely falling over. His hooded gaze told me that he was enjoying watching me writhe under his touch at the other end of the tub. I lost track of how long that went on. I was damn near in tears when he gave me that mischievous smirk and finally spoke, “Touch yourself for me…”
My jaw fell slack as one hand moved down to my massage breast and the other to my center. My fingers got to work rubbing at the sensitive and swollen nub, adding to the sensations I was already feeling from where Dieter continued to rub my foot, now adding even more pressure with his thumbs. Within seconds, I fell over the edge. My body tensing and arching out of the water as a loud moan escaped my lips. I saw stars as the blood rushed behind my ears. It was one of the most intense orgasms I had ever had from basic stimulation. Dieter continued rubbing my foot through it, prolonging the sensations until I finally relaxed into the water.
When my senses finally returned, my eyes fluttered open to find Dieter’s smug smile. He seemed rather proud of himself. I gave him a lazy smile in return, suggestively running my foot down his chest until it disappeared under the water - going lower to brush against his hardness that was hiding under the surface. His eyes narrowed, “Now who's being naughty?”
I gave him an innocent smile, “Oh no…I’m just returning the favor.”
I sat up, shifting to join him at the other end of the tub. With my breast pressed against him, I leaned in for a slow and sensual kiss. My left arm moved around his neck allowing my fingers to tangle in his hair as my lips trailed down his jaw to first suck on his ear lobe before moving to the sensitive spot behind it. I resituated myself, my left side leaning against him as my right hand traced a path downward. His lips captured mine until my fingers wrapped around the base of his cock and stroked upward. His jaw fell slack, breaking our kiss as his head dropped backward onto the ledge of the tub. With the arm that was wrapped around me, he reached up to gently rub soothing circles at the base of my neck as I continued to pump his length - occasionally swiping my thumb over the head and squeezing just a little tighter.
I took this opportunity to take in his expressions as his breath quickened. His head lolled back and forth as his brows pinched together. His teeth bit into his bottom lip as he turned and whimpered quietly against my shoulder. I leaned down, grazing my nose against his ear, speaking in a silky soft voice.
“You’ve been so good today…taking care of me in every way. I think it’s only fair that I take care of you too. Don’t you?”
He whimpered, his mouth falling open, allowing his hot pants to blow against the curve of my neck as my hand pumped a little faster. My fingers twisted in his hair, pulling it slightly causing his head to fall back away from me so that I could see his face again. His brows pinched together tighter as his arm tensed around me, his fingers now gripping my shoulder firmly. He was panting out soft whimpers with every exhale, eventually turning into a deep groan as I swiped my thumb over the head for the last time - causing him to cum. He trembled under me, eventually going limp against the tub, sucking in deep breaths through his pouty lips as his brows arched.
A curl fell down over his forehead as his head leaned toward me. He looked relaxed now and completely blissed out as he sat there with his eyes closed. A lazy grin slid across his lips as his dark eyes finally blinked open to meet my gaze. Without warning he pulled me down, causing me to squeal as he crashed his lips against mine. His hands ghosted up and down my back side while we continued to make out like a couple of teenagers, pulling apart only to stare into each other's eyes.
He reached up to brush a stray hair away from my face as he took me in, “You know…I wouldn’t be upset if every night for the rest of my life ended like this…with us together…you make me happier than I ever thought possible.”
His words took me off guard, causing a mix of emotions - excitement because it meant he was thinking long term about our future, but also panic. It was another reminder of how hard and how fast I was falling for him because I now realized I wanted that, more than anything. I was also setting myself up to get hurt badly if this went wrong. I was already in so much deeper with him than I ever was with Alec. I need to get over this. Dieter isn’t Alec. He won’t do what Alec did.
My eyes searched his, I could tell he meant what he was saying. I felt like he wanted to say more but was holding back. I suddenly felt emotional, the only response I could muster was a small smile before pulling him in for a gentle kiss. I turned, settling back against his chest as his hands rubbed my shoulders.
He kissed the top of my head, seeming to sense my anxiety, then leaned his cheek against it as he spoke, “I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that…I wanna take things at a pace you're OK with. I don’t want you to feel rushed. I mean it when I say you’re important to me and…I don’t wanna fuck this up.”
I grabbed his hand and nuzzled it against the side of my face, “Don’t apologize. I want you to be open with me about your feelings. I do appreciate the grace…just be patient with me. I’m there with you, but I’m feeling a lot of things…I’m still working through a lot of things, most of which have nothing to do with you…just know that.”
He hugged me against him, brushing the hair back off my face as he told me to relax for a little while. We sat in silence for a time, until Zee came strutting into the bathroom meowing because we weren’t in bed yet. We took that as our cue to start our bedtime routine so as not to upset the queen of the Bravo residence.
Dieter climbed into bed first that night, raising the blanket for me to crawl in beside him. I was suddenly feeling vulnerable as I snuggled in against his chest. He pulled me snugly against himself as I tangled my leg with his. His scent and warmth surrounded me, calming me and bringing me back to my senses. “Dieter?”
He murmured out a sleepy ‘hm?’ against the top of my hair.
“I wouldn’t mind having this every night, too.”
I felt him smile as he nuzzled his face further into my hair and hugged me just a little tighter.
Dieter’s POV This week had been such an emotional roller coaster for me already. Kat and I finally caved after a week of no sex, first in the dressing room at the studio, then again after we got back to my place that same evening. It wasn’t just sex though. Like in New York, it was different - intense. She had me feeling things that I had never felt before, causing my emotions to jump all over the place. It felt like it was never enough and too much all at the same time. I wondered if this was what it felt like to make love to someone. I had always heard people say that, but never really understood it. To me, there was only sex or fucking. Those two things didn’t feel like appropriate descriptors for what Kat and I did though.
There was no question about my feelings for her. I knew I was in love, but did the intensity between us mean she felt the same about me? I couldn’t help hoping that was the case. Why else would it feel like this with her if she wasn’t reciprocating those feelings? It was something I wanted to bring up with her, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to freak her out and ruin what we were building. Deep down I knew she was more fragile than she let on. I knew this thing with Alec had affected her no matter how hard she tried to hide it. I wanted to make sure I gave her all the time she needed to heal.
The shit storm brewing around us certainly didn’t help any. I knew there would eventually be some repercussions from the Alec confrontation. The rumors had already begun to swirl and TMZ had gotten a whiff of it. They were sniffing around for any details they could get so they could post about it.
Then that suggestive text message came through when Kat had my phone. I damn near had a panic attack, worried she would think I was talking to other people behind her back. I knew I should have gotten my number changed as soon as all those random messages started to come in after SNL. It would have saved us both some grief. Thankfully, it appeared as if she believed my explanation. At least I hoped she did, because it was the truth. However, I knew it had to be worrisome to her after the whole Alec thing. I felt like a complete asshole over the incident. I never wanted to do anything to make her worry about those sort of things because I would never do that to her.
I went from that major fuck up right into my therapy session with Dr. Smith where she made me talk about my parents and how that related to my freak out on Alec. It was something that I did need to talk through. I couldn’t put it off forever because it had been bothering me. Dr. Smith helped me realize that the visceral reaction was more about protecting someone I care deeply for than anything - that I’m not that violent person. My biggest fear is that I would turn into my father or that I was already like him in some way. Deep down I knew I wasn’t, but that worry would always be there because I was so affected by it during my early life.
When I got back home after that session, I went straight to my sanctuary. I needed to get it out of my system in some way, finally settling for music. When I began to play, I didn’t have any intention to go live on Instagram, but I figured why not? That was what Lenny wanted me to do. I ended up finding it to be strangely cathartic, but I was still feeling down when Kat showed up. Given that Dr. Smith had encouraged me to tell Kat about my past, I felt like it was the last step I needed to take to absolve myself of all the things I was feeling.
I didn’t even know where to start, but Kat knew exactly what I needed - pulling me into that moment of intimacy and just letting me be while I worked through my emotions. I needed all of her and she willingly let me have as much as I could handle. It felt like something shifted between us yet again, but I didn’t know what. All I knew is that I felt closer to her afterward and completely safe to open up to tell her about my past.
Our relationship really was progressing quicker than I thought it would. After Kat met Cora, she had essentially met all the important people in my circle. She was becoming engrained in every part of my life, and I couldn’t have been happier about it. Cora loved Kat and approved once she got to spend a little time with her. Kat had even told her sister about me, which I felt like was a big fucking deal. She seemed almost proud to show me off to Lydia, not hesitating to let me join their call after she spilled the beans. It all felt very natural, and I honestly couldn’t believe it was happening. This thing between us was obviously turning into something serious. It was scary, but I welcomed it with open arms. I was ready to have someone, to have my own functional family.
After allowing my mind to run a marathon of thoughts as I laid in bed staring at the ceiling, my attention turned to Kat. She was sleeping soundly beside me. I hated to disturb her, but I really needed to take a piss and get breakfast started. Since it was a late rehearsal day, I wanted to take advantage of our free time and surprise her with an authentic Greek meal.
Kat groaned as I pulled away from her to get up, causing me to huff out a quiet laugh as I ran my fingertips down the side of her cheek. “Sorry to wake you sweetheart, go back to sleep for a bit. I’m gonna go make you some breakfast.”
She hummed out in agreement, snuggling deeper into the blankets as I tucked them around her. Zee stood from her spot at the end of the bed, moving toward Kat’s head. I narrowed my eyes at her, pointing an accusing finger as I whispered out, “You behave. Don’t be an annoying little shit.”
Kat snickered into the pillow as she lifted the blanket, allowing Zee to cuddle in against her before cocooning them both in the duvet. Seeing my two girls snuggled up in my bed together was really doing something to me, causing my heart to flutter in my chest and making me feel happy in a way I never had been. I really couldn’t ask for anything better than that.
I threw on a pair of gym shorts and grabbed my fluffy green robe, then headed downstairs to start cooking. I had asked Cora to pick up some ingredients for a traditional Greek breakfast that I wanted to try my hand at making. It seemed simple enough, so I figured I couldn’t fuck it up too badly.
I got to work, chopping the tomatoes and onions before letting them sauté in a pan - eventually adding lightly beaten eggs and several spices before topping with crumbled feta. I followed that up with fried pork, then made a small batch of what equated to Greek French toast. Kat came shuffling in just as I added the finishing touches of honey and cinnamon to the fried bread. I could hear her sniffing the air as she came up behind me to wrap her arms around my waist.
“This smells amazing. What did you make?”
After setting the container of cinnamon down, I turned to face her with a smirk, wrapping my arms around her and hugging her against me as I went over the morning menu.
“Well, we have some fried pork…and forgive me if I butcher the names…but I also made some fetoydia and strapatsada.”
Her eyes lit up, “No you didn’t?!?!”
I chuckled, “I did. I also had Cora get you some fancy imported Greek coffee and mountain tea too. I’m curious to try those. Which would you like with your breakfast?”
Her mouth hung open for a beat, clearly surprised by my efforts. “I can’t believe you did that for me…I don’t even know what to say.”
I shrugged, “It’s not a big deal. You know I love to try new things…and you’ve given me a reason to. Now, coffee or tea?”
She sighed in contentment, “Coffee, please.”
I gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away to get it started, “Coming right up! Food’s done, so dig in.”
She had a ghost of a smile on her lips as she made her plate which had me feeling all warm and fuzzy. I would never tire of spoiling her every chance I got.
Kat seemed to enjoy the meal, moaning in appreciation with every bite. She and I ate way too much to the point we both felt miserable after. Thankfully we had several hours before we had to be in the dance studio, so we could relax and be a little lazy for a while. We spent some time snuggled on the couch - her tucked into my side as Zee stretched out in the crevice between Kat and the back of the sofa. Kat watched as I aimlessly scrolled through the threads of one of my online plant groups, taking the time to respond to questions and complain to her about how so many people gave terrible advice.
I chuckled as I explained to Kat how I was the dickhead that always incited arguments about plant care and then won them and how I had amassed quite the little following that always directly asked me for advice. I often wondered what they would do if they knew who they were actually talking to.
After several minutes, Kat piped up to ask, “What do they mean when they say SuccDee? Is that a dirty plant joke? I don’t understand the context.”
My body shook with laughter as I tried to hold it in. I finally got it together enough to answer her. “My username is ‘Succulent_Daddy_Dee’. They have taken to calling me ‘SuccDee’ for short.”
I could see the moment of realization on her face as her eyes widened. Then she burst into laughter as she buried her face in my chest. She had tears in her eyes as she asked, “And I’m sure you did nothing to encourage that. You’re so bad…”
I snorted out laughter, “Hey, I wasn’t the one to come up with it. However, I will admit I did nothing to discourage it. Honestly, I spent a good five minutes laughing the first time someone said it. It just stuck and it’s kind of fucking perfect.”
She wiped her eyes, “I’m not sure which version of that name is more entertaining. The multiple meanings of the word succulent take it to a whole other level.”
I feigned innocence, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. A succulent is a type of plant. I am the father to many succulent plants. Get your mind outta the gutter.”
She broke into another fit of giggles, “You’re so full of shit.”
I snickered, “Yeah, guilty…but hey, at least I keep it entertaining.”
With the arm she had thrown across my torso, she gave me a little squeeze. “That you do. I can’t complain.”
I continued to scroll, pausing on a post that caught my attention and reading it out loud to Kat.
Here’s a little fun fact for all of my plant enthusiasts. Plants can talk! They emit ultrasonic vibrations of 20–100 kHz. To make this more interesting, cats can hear up to 64 kHz and dogs up to 45 kHz. Does this mean my pets can hear the plants?
I looked down at her, “Fuuck, am I unknowingly driving Zee insane with all my plants? It must be super loud in here to her...”
This fact was sort of blowing my mind as I peeked over at Zee, the mention of her name rousing her from a deep sleep. “Damn Zee, I wish you could talk. I wanna know what they say…Maybe I should talk to them more?”
My attention diverted back to Kat, finding her smiling up at me. “Well, now I know why she sometimes randomly stares at them in that freaky way she does. I wonder if there’s a way we can hear them? Imma have to research this…”
Kat’s smile widened, and to Zee’s dismay, she shifted so that she could raise up to kiss me and mumble, “You’re so fucking adorable” against my lips. My thoughts for the talking plants were soon forgotten as I discarded my iPad on the floor next to the couch and proceeded to have a heated make out session with my lady.
We were interrupted minutes later by her phone ringing on the table next to us. Kat seemed intent on ignoring it, continuing to kiss down my jaw and neck as I turned to grab her cell with a chuckle.
“It’s Marc. You need to take it?”
Her head popped up with a perplexed look on her face, “Yeah…maybe. He rarely calls me.”
She answered, going through the usual small talk and pleasantries before going quiet to listen to what I assumed was his reason for calling. Her brows pinched together slightly before she gave me a puzzled smile.
“Marc wants to know if we’re available for dinner with him, his wife, and Stefanie and her partner on Sunday?”
I was surprised by the request, but they had seemed to be more friendly toward us since the Alec incident. I figured it might do us some good to be sociable, so I shrugged. “Why not? Could be fun.”
Kat gave me a brilliant smile before telling Marc we would be there, then listened for a bit longer before asking, “Bring our guitars?”
Her eyes shifted to mine nervously. I reached up to run my fingers through her hair, causing her to relax into my touch. “Yeah…I’ll tell him to. Yep, see you then.”
After she hung up, her eyes met mine, “It seems they wanna have a jam session after dinner. They all play apparently…”
She didn’t seem excited about that idea. “We don’t have to stay for that if you don’t want to.”
Her nose scrunched up as she asked, “How do you feel about doing that?”
I shrugged, “I mean, it could be fun. I haven’t done anything like that in forever…but if you don’t want to…”
Kat sighed, “No…you know what? I’m gonna do it. I need to play again. It’ll be good for me. Besides, you’ll be there with me, so I’ll be fine.”
Her words caused a warmth to spread through me. I loved that she felt that way, that I could ease her anxieties. She was putting so much trust in me, more than anyone ever had. If only she understood how much that meant. I knew it couldn’t be easy after what she had gone through, which made it mean so much more. I gave her a soft smile before pulling her in for a tender kiss.
Zee chose that moment to paw a glass that was still about one fourth of the way full of water off the coffee table, which broke our spell and the glass.
“Zee, what the fuck?” I huffed out in frustration while Kat snorted out a laugh beside me. Zee gave me a defiant look as her tail whipped back and forth. I sighed as we moved to get up. Kat grabbed Zee to keep her safe while I moved to clean up the mess. Zee now seemed happy as a clam as she purred and snuggled against Kat.
I gave Zee the side eye as I swept up the mess, “There are other less destructive ways to get our attention, young lady. That was not cool.”
Zee seemed like she could care less as Kat scratched behind her ears and snickered at her complete disregard for my scolding. Once I got everything cleaned up, I decided to do some much needed plant care as Kat gave Zee the attention she was demanding. Zee’s need for affection didn’t last long. Once she had her fill, she simply jumped from Kats arms and made her way over to the top of her cat tree to groom herself. Kat scoffed at her dismissal as she stood, coming to stand next to me as I dusted, pruned, and misted leaves. Her arms snaked around my waist as she rested her chin on my shoulder and watched me work in silence for a few minutes. I could feel her lips brush against my skin as she asked, “Can you teach me how to do this?”
I don’t know why, but her request had my heart racing. It made me feel giddy that she wanted to learn about my hobby. I glanced down at her with a smirk, “You mean you don’t already do this for your plants?”
She snorted, “My plants are lucky to get water. They come to my house to survive, not live.”
I shook my head and scoffed out a laugh, “That’s just depressing. Don’t tell me that. Imma have to start checking in on them.”
She smiled against my neck, “I would be ok with that.”
I pulled her around to stand in front of me, now leaning over her shoulder with my arms around her. My hands shifted through the leaves of the plant I was currently working on as I explained when to prune and the process for dusting and misting. She was full of questions as she took over to do it herself. I hugged her backside against me as I supervised, placing the occasional gentle kiss against her jaw and the curve of her neck. Once she got the hang of it, we both worked through all the plants in the room as we chatted and got to know each other better. I honestly couldn’t think of a better way to spend my free time, and I found it to be a wonderful and relaxing way to bond with her.
Before we knew it, it was time for us to head off to rehearsal for the rest of the day. It was another grueling day in the dance studio and also filming day. After seven weeks of this, I could tell it was slowly wearing me down. This dance in particular was taking a lot out of me with it being very high energy. After six hours of it, my tank was running empty and I was beginning to make ridiculous mistakes with my footwork and frame. Kat seemed to be struggling as well. We were both slowing down and couldn’t seem to keep up with the music. At least it made for some interesting footage for the show. We eventually sat on the floor and settled for talking through some parts of it, deciding what still needed to be tweaked or changed and coming up with a game plan for the next two days. That part would probably be less exciting to watch, but we sort of didn’t care.
Once our studio time was up, we headed home. After a quick dinner, we showered together - too tired to do anything aside from getting clean. It wasn’t long before we crashed, falling asleep almost as soon as our heads hit the pillow. When I awoke the next morning to find Zee snuggled up next to me, I couldn’t recall having felt her get in the bed. Neither did Kat. We had obviously been out of it.
We spent our Saturday morning outdoors with the intent to take it easy until our evening rehearsal time. We started with painting some planter pots on the back patio. I had somehow managed to con Kat into the activity over breakfast. She grumbled at first, citing her lack of artistic capabilities, but that grumbling soon abated when I sat down behind her. I made sure to pull her back to my front as snugly as possible before putting my arms around her waist and using my hands to guide hers, showing her different techniques for painting flowers and trees onto the plain terracotta. After she got the hang of it, I took advantage of my position to lavish her exposed neck with attention from my mouth.
Once I had her properly worked up, I scooted away with a smirk so that I could paint my own pot. She scoffed, calling me a “fucking tease” as I shot a wink in her direction. My smugness soon faded when she began removing layers of clothing to reveal a lavender bikini that looked absolutely amazing against her golden skin. She was the smug one now as she pretended not to notice my eyes on her.
I huffed out a laugh as I pulled my t-shirt off over my head, “Fine. Two can play that game, honey.”
She scrunched up her nose in annoyance, then flicked a paintbrush in my direction - causing speckles of paint to splatter all over my face and chest. It only escalated from there. Before it was over with, we were rolling around on top of the drop cloth covered in paint, laughing like a couple of idiots in between making out with each other.
Once we realized our skin was beginning to stick together from the drying paint, we finally got up and made use of the outdoor shower stall to rinse each other off. Afterward, I jumped into the pool while she sat on the side with her legs swishing in the water, laughing at my antics and taking pictures of me with my phone.
I eventually swam up to her, wrapping my arms around her legs and resting my head on her lap as she scratched at my dripping scalp. We sat like that for a time in silence, enjoying the sun and just being together. I could get used to this. It was almost addicting having her here by my side in this way, but it was also calming the storm that always swirled in my mind. The self-depreciating and negative thoughts were so far removed from my focus that I felt what I could only describe as normal? Unburdened? Content? I couldn’t really find a word to describe it. I was definitely happy, but there was something more with it. I knew it was because of her, keeping my demons locked away in the shadows where they belonged.
I raised my head, squinting from the sun as I looked up at her with a smile. “Let's go out to the beach. I haven’t gotten to properly take advantage of it yet.”
Her brows furrowed, “Is that a good idea?”
I shrugged, “It’s a private beach…”
She scrunched up her face, “I don’t like getting in the ocean though…I’m not confident in my swimming capabilities.”
I pouted, “You don’t have to go in very far. Besides, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. How about I just don’t let go of you?”
She sighed, tilting her head to the side as she slowly gave in to the idea. I gave her a cheesy smile, “I’ll even let you bury me in the sand. You can give me a mermaid tail and boobs.”
She snorted out a laugh, “Fine…fine. I will not be cleaning the sand out of your ass though. That’s on you.”
I backed away from her with a laugh and pulled myself up on the edge of the pool to get out, “Deal…Just remember you didn’t say anything about cleaning under my balls though.”
She cackled as I held out my hands to pull her up from the ground, “Come on, let’s go pack a bag with the essentials. I may even have a tiny shovel and a bucket you can use.”
That pulled another tinkling laugh out of her as she stood.
I was true to my word, letting Kat bury me to do all manner of ridiculous things - including the mermaid tail and boobs. I helped with the boobs, shaping and cupping them to make sure they were the perfect roundness and size, which had us both in a fit of giggles.
Afterwards, Kat stretched out on a towel under the oversized beach umbrella to read while I went for a dip in the ocean to try and wash the sand out of all the places it shouldn’t be. She laid on her stomach for a time, which had her voluptuous ass on display. I couldn’t help staring at it in those little bikini bottoms she had on. It was definitely begging to be spanked. After several minutes, she flipped over onto her back, propping herself up on her elbows as she not so subtly adjusted her top. She gave me a smirk and a wink while her boobs bounced around from where she tugged at the scraps of fabric. She knew exactly what she was doing, and it was working. I was already half hard from the visual. The dirty thoughts that followed finished the job and got me the rest of the way there.
I ambled to the shore, noticing Kat’s gaze on me as I made my way toward her. She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched me hungrily. My eyes surveyed the area, not seeing anyone near us and realizing the umbrella blocked the view from nearby houses. I intended to take full advantage of that as I sank to my knees at her feet. I crawled up her body, dripping water and peppering kisses along her heated skin as I went. I paused half way and shook my head like a dog, which elicited a loud squeal from her and laughter from the both of us before I captured her lips with mine. Her hips bucked against my raging hardon, causing me to groan into her mouth.
She hummed against my lips, “Feels like somebody enjoyed the view.”
I smiled, dropping my right hand down between her thighs, slipping a finger underneath the fabric of her bikini bottoms to find her soaking wet for me. “I think somebody else did too.”
She sighed softly as I began to rub between her slick folds, “Not gonna lie…you looked pretty fucking hot coming outta the water like that…better than any porno I’ve ever seen.”
I chuckled, leaning down to kiss along her neck as my fingers worked her over. “Sounds like my Kitten needs a little attention. Are you aching for me, honey?”
Her hands tangled in my hair as she nodded and let out a breathy, “Always.”
She began to grind against my hand as my fingers curled inside of her and my thumb made leisurely swirls around her sensitive bud. My lips found her ear as I spoke in a hushed voice, “Always so ready for me…such a needy girl. I want you to come for me, right here…where anyone could see.”
Her thighs began to tense around my hand as her body arched upward against me. I knew she was close. “You’re being such a dirty girl right now, you know that? Letting me play with you out in the open like this…and I think you kinda like it. You like being my dirty girl?”
I pulled back slightly to look at her even though she had a death grip on my hair. She nodded in response to my question, her brows pinching together and mouth falling open as my thumb increased pressure and speed. She was trembling now, so close.
I kissed along her jaw again, mumbling as I worked my way down the curve of her neck, “I’m gonna bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you senseless as soon as we walk through the door.”
That sent her over the edge, causing her to bury her face against my shoulder to muffle the moans she was trying and failing to hold in. She collapsed against the towel, panting as a lazy smile spread across her face. Her hand slid down from my hair, cupping my cheek as she peered up at me, “The things you do to me…”
I chuckled, “Don’t worry, I’m not done yet…”
She narrowed her eyes at me as I stood and pulled her up from the ground with a smirk. Once she was standing, I didn’t hesitate to lean forward and throw her over my shoulder, giving her ass a good smack before I turned to walk back toward the ocean. She squealed and squirmed, but it didn’t do any good. I had a firm grip as I walked into the water up to my waist before dropping her in. She stood, cursing me as she sputtered out water and wiped at her face. I reached toward her with a smile, snaking my hand around her waist and pulling her into my embrace. She welcomed it, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me gently.
I pulled her out a little further into the water, so that we could bob with the waves. I felt her grip tighten slightly, but she didn’t stop me. She was trusting that I wouldn’t let her go. She gave me a mischievous smile as she wrapped her legs around me, now rubbing her center against my dick and further stoking the flame that was burning inside of me.
I groaned, “Now who’s being a fucking tease?”
Her lips moved along my neck, “Want me to take care of that little problem for you?”
I huffed out a laugh, “No. I actually meant what I said earlier…I’m bending you over the counter and fucking you when we get back to the house.”
She raised her head to look at me, her lips fighting a smile. I leaned in, brushing my nose against hers as I reached down to grab the globes of her ass, pulling her center tighter against me, “I’m also gonna spank you and make you come again. Maybe twice if you’re good for me.”
I could feel her thighs clenching against me as her mouth clashed against mine. Our hands explored each other as the kiss deepened, her right one making its way down between us to rub at the bulge in my shorts.
“Can we go back to the house now? Please? I need you…” she begged.
My forehead pressed against hers as I whined, “As if I could deny you anything…”
My hand moved to cup her cheek as I leaned back to take her in. She was so fucking beautiful. The sun was glistening off her tanned skin and emphasizing the gold flecks in her amber eyes in a way I had never seen. I felt dumbstruck by it as my heart began to flutter in my chest. She was literally taking my breath away.
One side of her lips twitched upward, “You OK?”
I nodded as my thumb stroked her face, “Yeah…I’m just…I wanna remember everything about this moment. I umm…” I love you.
I was so fucking close to saying it as she smiled up at me, but I was too afraid it would scare her away. It had only been two weeks. It was too soon.
“I’ve just never umm…”
My words trailed off as I shook my head to clear it. I didn’t know how to express what I was feeling but I needed to say something.
“I’ve never experienced something like this with anyone before…felt how I feel in this moment. I can’t exactly put it into words…”
Her hand dropped to my chest, no doubt feeling my heart pounding against it as her face softened. She leaned in to kiss me sweetly. The moment was ruined a few seconds later by a large wave that nearly knocked us over. She was back to sputtering out water and laughing as I pulled her toward the shore.
We wasted no time packing up and heading toward the house. I pulled her into the outdoor shower stall, our hands and mouths now exploring each other as we washed away the sand and salt and peeled our suits off. Once we were sufficiently clean, I wrapped her in a towel which she secured around her torso as I grabbed one to put around my waist.
She was barely through the sliding doors of the house before she dropped the towel and placed her palms on the island, arching her back toward me as she smiled seductively over her shoulder. I moved to stand behind her, gently running my fingertips up the center of her spine as her head dipped forward between her shoulders from the sensation. I felt her shiver as I made several passes up and down. On the last one, my fingertips continued upward, grazing the back of her neck before sinking my fingers into her hair, grabbing hold at the roots before tugging gently. She stood up straighter, melting into me as my left hand ran down the side of her body. I tugged her hair a little harder, angling her head to the side so I could access her neck to place gentle kisses along the length of it. Then, without warning, I smacked her ass. She moaned quietly. Another smack gave me the same result. Her breaths were coming faster now as the anticipation got to her.
My lips moved against her ear, “Tell me what you want, Kitten.”
Her eyes slid shut as she exhaled, “I want you to have your way with me…any way you want.”
I groaned against the side of her neck, “You’re gonna make me come saying shit like that.”
She chuckled, pressing her ass against me just a little more, which resulted in another smack. She smiled this time.
I tutted at her, “I think you like that…lean forward.”
She did so as I dropped down to my knees, giving the other cheek a couple of smacks for good measure before landing one right to her center, causing her to flutter around nothing. My hands found her thighs, massaging deeply as they moved upward to her hips. She was dripping wet and practically begging for more when I leaned forward and licked up her folds, causing her to cry out as she gripped the edge of the island until her knuckles turned white.
I dove into her cunt like a man starved, absolutely devouring her as my hands gripped her hips tightly to keep her from squirming. I had her falling apart within minutes as I sucked and licked at her bundle of nerves, giving the occasional slap to her ass as I worked. When she finally came, I didn’t stop or slow the pace, causing her to come for a second time in quick succession.
Her legs nearly gave out on the second one. So, I held her around the middle with one arm as I stood. After dropping the towel from my waist, I used my free hand to drag myself through her slick. She moaned quietly each time the head nudged against her over sensitive clit. After notching at her entrance, I sank in slowly. Taking my time so she could feel every inch slide in and out at the perfect angle.
I pulled her against my chest, one hand sliding around to grip under her chin, angling her face toward mine so I could see her. Her face was sweaty, flushed, and completely blissed out when she met my gaze. It had me feeling the same way I had when we were in the ocean. It felt like home. It felt like peace. I felt complete.
My forehead fell against hers, “You’re so fucking beautiful…perfect for me…never letting you go.”
I was babbling like a fool and completely losing myself as my other arm held her around the waist. She laced her fingers through mine, gripping my hand tightly as I clung to her. I know I said I would fuck her, but this was so much more than that. I kept the pace slow and languid, our breathing completely synced as we drowned in each other’s gaze.
I could feel Kat’s abdomen tighten as she quickly came again out of nowhere, squeezing me to the point that I could hardly move. Her jaw went slack, one of her hands flying up to twist into my hair as she let out a loud cry. I was seconds behind her, the feeling and intensity of her orgasm pulling me over the edge with her. My hand released her chin to reach for the counter as I attempted to steady myself, but it was no use.
My legs gave out, causing me to sink down to my knees - pulling Kat with me. I was somehow still pulsing and leaking inside of her as she melted against me.
I panted out a breathy, “Fuck…sorry. I-I…couldn’t stand…anymore. That was…intense.”
She sat on my thighs, both of us slumped against the side of the island as we tried to catch our breath. My arm around her tightened as I leaned in to kiss the side of her cheek. She turned, her lips seeking mine for a heated kiss that had me seeing stars.
When she finally pulled away, my attention was drawn to movement at my left. Kat’s eyes followed my line of sight and found Zee, who was sitting on the floor with her head tilted, her tail twitching from side to side as she looked up at us with concern? Confusion? Curiosity? I wasn’t really sure. Kat and I both burst into laughter, her leaning back into my chest as I hugged her snugly and laughed into her shoulder.
“Is this what it feels like when moms and dads get caught doing the dirty by the kids? Because I feel like that’s what just happened,” I said between chuckles.
Kat snorted out another laugh, “I dunno, but I think she’s kind of into it. She was totally watching.”
I gasped for air, “If that’s the case, she gets that shit from you. You’re the one who likes to watch.”
Kat leaned her head back against me, still laughing as I reached for a towel. I motioned for her to open her legs a bit to put it in place before I pulled out of her with a groan. Between the two of us, we had made an absolute mess of each other. We both shifted, stretching out on the tile because our legs still felt weak.
I sighed, glancing at the clock on the microwave, “I think we’re gonna be late for rehearsal.”
She waved a dismissive hand, “I don’t care…whatever that was…was totally worth it.”
We were late for rehearsal. Forty-five minutes late to be specific, but I really didn’t mind. There was more between us after that, somehow feeling more connected than we already were. Maybe it was just because of the intensity of everything. I couldn’t be sure. Whatever it was definitely carried over to our dancing. We were so on top of it, barely making the tiniest of mistakes. I felt newly energized and ready to win that fucking Mirrorball trophy as we went through the routine one last time.
Since we had a long day planned for Sunday and felt pretty on top of the choreography, we headed home early. There was no way to improve perfection after all.
Kat and I had just gotten home, and I was making some quick sandwiches for dinner when my cell rang. Lenny’s name flashed on the screen. I looked at the time, it was near 9:30 PM, which was sort of late for him. He tended to go to bed early since he got up before the sun rose most days. Worried something was up, I sucked some mayo off my fingers as I hurried to answer it.
“Hey Len…”
“What the hell have you been doing?” he barked out before I could even finish my greeting.
I winced, “What do you mean? I haven’t been doing anything.”
Kat’s wide eyes met mine in concern. I shrugged.
He sighed, “Who were you with today?”
I was so fucking confused, “I was at dance rehearsal with Kat. That’s the only place I’ve gone. Why?”
I could hear him shuffling papers around on his end of the line, “TMZ just called. They have pictures of you at the beach kissing a woman.”
I grimaced as my eyes shifted back to Kat. Fuck.
“How the hell did they get those? I was literally in my backyard on a private beach. There was no one else out there today.”
Lenny huffed, “Then you obviously have an asshole neighbor who wanted a quick buck.”
I sighed, “Fuck.” I switched the phone to speaker so Kat could hear, then I asked “Can you tell who it is in the pictures?”
“They’re asking if it’s Kat. Is it?”
Kat shrugged, waving her hand to go ahead and tell him the truth. “Can you tell who’s in the pictures?” I asked again.
He was quiet for a minute, obviously looking at them, “I mean…I can’t. Most of them are blurry. It’s pretty far away. I can definitely tell it’s you, but most of the pictures of the woman are from the back...Is it her?”
I scrunched my eyes shut as I rubbed at the bridge of my nose, “Tell them it’s not her…but yes, it’s her.”
He scoffed, “Fucking hell, Dieter. I thought we were done with this shit? What do you think you’re doing? Are you using again?”
My fists clenched together. I took a deep breath to calm myself as Kat came to stand next to me, placing a comforting hand on top of mine.
“No…I’m not fucking using again. It’s not like that Lenny, OK? This is different. We’re like…together. It’s not…not a fuck buddy situation or anything. I care about her.” I puffed air out of my cheeks in frustration, now pacing around the kitchen nervously as Kat watched me in silence.
“Look, we don’t want anyone to know yet. The producers can’t find out and the less that’s confirmed for Alec, the better. I need you and the team to keep this under wraps.”
Lenny was unusually quiet now. I didn’t know how to take that. “Len, you still with me?”
He cleared his throat, “Yeah, I’m just…processing. Does your therapist know about this? Is it really a good idea? I thought you weren’t getting involved with your co-stars anymore?”
I rolled my eyes, “Look, I’m tryin’ not to be pissed about this because I know where you’re coming from. It’s my fault, I earned that…but trust me when I say this is different. And yes, my therapist knows. She’s been supportive of it. She likes Kat.”
He sighed, “Ok, so how the hell are we supposed to handle this?”
I was still pacing as I talked through it, “Well…nothing we can do about the pictures. Maybe…”
I paused to think through my words before I continued, giving Kat a wide-eyed look as the idea sparked. “Maybe we take advantage of this. We say it’s not Kat…lie…say I’m seeing someone else but wish to protect her privacy. Use it as a misdirection…It might help settle the rumors about us and get the producers, Alec, and the paparazzi off her back some.”
Lenny chuckled, “You really think your publicist is gonna go for that?”
I shrugged even though he couldn’t see me, “I kind of don’t care. I’m going with it. I’ll head it off and do a cryptic Instagram post. Besides, it might be fun to fuck with Stacia and Joe some. I wanna see their heads explode when they realize their fairytale showmance isn’t happening after all.”
Kat snorted out a laugh over that one. She obviously thought it was funny, but I did want her input before I did anything.
“Kat, are you good with that? I don’t wanna do anything without your consent.”
She nodded, “It is a funny thought to be honest. I’m cool with it. They’ve been fucking with us this whole time. It’s time to beat them at their own game.”
I turned back to my phone, “You hear that, Len? This is probably gonna cause a little mayhem, but we’re here for it.”
He grumbled, “Your publicist is gonna murder both of us.”
I chuckled, “Not my problem…better start making some calls because I’m posting something as soon as we hang up.”
“Ugh, fine. Ok. This is all on you though.”
I smiled, “Thanks Len, you’re the best. We’ll talk soon.”
He grumbled some more then hung up without even saying goodbye.
I turned to Kat and smiled nervously, “Well, looks like we have a project to do tonight. We need to look through my camera roll…just…don’t judge me for what you find.”
Her brows furrowed, “Do I even wanna know what that means?”
I shrugged, “I mean…it’s just full of pictures of Zee and plants…and you.”
Her brows arched, “Oh, really?”
I grimaced as my face heated, “Yeah, I may have saved a few I found online…and I sneak pictures of you frequently.”
She shook her head and laughed, “I can’t wait to see this…”
As we sat eating our sandwiches, I handed my phone over. Kat scrolled in silence, an occasional smirk on her face before glancing up at me and shaking her head. After several minutes, her phone pinged a few times before she finally slid mine back over to me with a smile.
“What did you just do?” I asked.
Her smile widened, “I sent myself some pictures of you and Zee.”
I leaned toward her, narrowing my eyes slightly. “Maybe I need to check your camera roll…”
Her eyes widened, “Umm…mine is far more scandalous. I’ve saved some pictures of my own. You’ve done a lot of salacious photoshoots, you know that?”
I chuckled, “Ahh, filling up the spank bank then. I’m flattered.” I gave her a cocky grin and waggled my eyebrows, “If you want some nudes all you have to do is ask. I might even let you take them yourself.”
She shot a mischievous look over her glass as she took a sip, “Don’t give me any ideas…”
I grabbed my phone, snickering as I unlocked it. “So, I think the backlit picture of you and Zee, you painting, lying in bed from behind, and then the one you took of me in the pool kissing your leg will do. I don’t feel like it's obvious that’s you in those pictures. I’ll just do a whole photo dump and keep it vague. Let them speculate away.”
She huffed out a laugh, “You’re about to cause all kinds of chaos with this.”
I nodded, “Probably. I’ve never posted cutesy pictures of a woman before. It’s definitely making a statement…”
(More after the graphic.)
The post did indeed cause chaos. Likes and comments began to flood in - most of them asking if it was Kat in the pictures. I responded to exactly one person with, “Did I tag Kat? No.”
That set off a whole new onslaught of chatter and speculation. Kat egged it on by liking the original post and my comment. I could only imagine how my publicist was handling this. I was sure her head was probably about to explode.
When I woke up on Sunday morning, Kat was lying against my chest with her leg thrown across mine. She was still asleep, so I reached over to the nightstand to grab my phone without waking her. I was almost afraid to see what awaited me when I opened Instagram. I found more of the same stuff from the previous night. It was officially my most liked and most commented post ever.
I took a moment, taking in the sight before me. Ehh, we can do better than that.
As if I wasn’t already causing enough trouble, I took a short video clip of my hand rubbing along Kat’s bare leg. It was obvious we were tangled up in bed, wrapped in nothing but sheets with a nice view of the ocean outside the French doors. I posted it. There was no caption, only emojis, “👉👌🤯🤯🤯😏”
I threw in a few hashtags too, #PerfectMorning #MindBlown #WouldntChangeAThing
(More after the graphic.)
I was patiently awaiting a call from my publicist after that. She really might murder me over this one.
I sat with a smug smile as I watched the comments roll in. One in particular caught my attention.
Beasty45: I really hope you’re not screwing Kat over too. She deserves better.
I had to appreciate the sentiment behind it and really hated people thinking that way. So, I hit reply.
BangingBravo1: Wow. Never. She’s my bestie. All is well. 👍👍
It wasn’t a lie. She was my best friend as far as I was concerned.
I felt Kat stir against me. She groaned, hiding her face against my chest, “What time is it?”
I looked at the time, “You’ve got ten minutes before the alarm goes off.”
She let out another groan as her eyes blinked open, “What are you doing?”
I snickered and handed her my phone, “Causing more chaos.”
She squinted at the screen, then rolled her eyes as she handed it back to me with a laugh. “Now everyone knows you had a night of mind-blowing sex. Wonderful.”
“I know. I’m in trouble.”
As if on cue, a text message popped up from my publicist.
Janine: What the fuck are you doing?!?! Stop it. Now.
I cackled, tilting the phone toward Kat so she could see it, “That’s tame for her. I usually get a call with lots of yelling. Trust me. She’s dealt with worse.”
Kat shook her head, sighing heavily, “Today is gonna be interesting…”
We crawled out of bed soon after that to get ready for the day. We had a morning rehearsal slot, so that was first on our agenda. We had the routine down by this point, so we just focused on cleaning things up and tried not to wear ourselves out too much.
After rehearsal, we had our weekly spray tan. As we were walking into Television City Studios, I realized that I had a missed text from Janine from earlier in the day saying that TMZ had posted the article and pictures, so that was now out there for the world to see. They had to add an addendum once they realized I had made the social media posts, completely spoiling their 'breaking story'.
(More after the graphic.)
Kat and I were thankful the staff got us in and out quickly for the spray tan because we were definitely getting some looks and whispers. I imagine the confusion was spreading because we were fairly certain the majority of the cast thought we were together. We couldn’t help laughing about it as we left, wondering if Joe and Stacia had heard the news yet.
Kat ran to her house to check on things and pick up her guitar while I went home to feed Zee her dinner. Zee was in full menace mode as she tried to smack things off the counter while I prepared her food. It seemed to be her new favorite pastime, apparently enjoying getting me in a tizzy. She knew what she was doing, freezing mid shove when I would lock eyes with her. I concluded that she must think it’s some sort of game. A game that was fun for her and a nightmare for me. I ended up shooing her out of the kitchen so I could work in peace.
As I was finishing up with Zee’s gourmet meal, Kat came into the kitchen. Her brows furrowed as she pointed her finger to something behind me and busted out her best mom voice, “Zee, don’t you dare.”
I turned to see what the hell she was up to now, my eyes landing on her as she shoved a small potted succulent off the window sill. Luckily the pot did not break, but dirt spilled everywhere.
I sighed, “Why is this a thing all of a sudden?”
Zee meowed as she jumped down to rub against Kat’s legs and shot me some nasty side eye. Kat snickered as she shooed Zee away so she could clean up the mess.
“Maybe you’re not preparing her food fast enough. Best get to it, cat daddy.”
I huffed, “She messes with me, and I’ll go get some of that cheap nasty pellet garbage and she can have that. Little punk…”
Kat laughed at me as I continued to grumble about Zee’s impatience while Zee rubbed up against my legs and yelled at me until I finally set her plate down on the food mat. Zee rushed to her plate and ate with enthusiasm. I rolled my eyes at her as I turned to Kat, “All right, now that the diva is taken care of…you ready to go?”
Kat nodded, “Yep. Let’s get this sideshow on the road.”
My hand found its way to her hip and squeezed gently as I leaned in to give her a quick peck on the lips, “I should probably be offended by that, but it might actually be an accurate description…of me anyway.”
She playfully pushed my shoulder and laughed, “At least you’re aware. Let’s go.”
On the drive to Marc’s house, I could feel a twinge of anxiety forming in the pit of my stomach since I didn’t really know what to expect. From what I knew about Marc, he was a family man and seemed pretty drama free as far as his public persona was concerned. That helped some, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be alcohol or other things floating around. I knew it was something I would have to face eventually, but I wasn’t sure how ready for it I actually was. However, one glance in Kat’s direction suppressed those feelings. I knew she had my back, and I knew I would never do anything to let her down.
A short time later we pulled into Marc’s driveway and made our way to the front door. He greeted us, making small talk as he led us out to the back patio where he introduced us to his wife Valarie, and Stefanie’s partner, Kira. He was cooking hamburgers and hotdogs on the grill while everyone else sat around and chatted. So, as these things go, I joined him at the grill while Kat joined the ladies. We went into more small talk about the show, rehearsals, how I was feeling about ballroom dancing in general. It was all pretty surface level. Then, he asked me if I wanted a drink as he moved toward a cooler. I was taken off guard and sort of froze up.
He seemed to sense my hesitation as he opened the lid, giving me a gentle smile, “I’ve got water, a couple different kinds of soda, and if you’re feeling really adventurous…some juice boxes.”
I visibly relaxed as a smile tugged at my lips, “Water…please.”
His smile widened as he pulled a bottle out of the ice and handed it to me. He grabbed a juice box for himself, unwrapping the straw and stabbing it into the top with pursed lips. “Sorry, I probably should have worded that differently. I know you're sober.”
I shook my head and waved it off, “No big deal. Don’t even worry about it.”
His brows furrowed, eyes shifting up to meet mine as he took a quick pull from the straw before setting the drink down beside the grill. “No, I get it. I’m eight years sober myself. I remember how hard and awkward it was in those early days. People can be weird when you say you don’t drink…or do anything else for that matter.”
I nodded, “Yeah, I’ve been lucky enough to not run into that yet. I’ve been keeping to myself a lot…”
He picked up the tongs to flip the patties on the grill, “So how long has it been for you?”
I screwed the cap off the water and took a swig, “Ten months. Longest I’ve ever been sober since all that shit started.”
He smiled, “That’s good. When you hit a year, we’ll have to do something to celebrate. That’s a big deal.”
I nodded, feeling warmth creeping up my cheeks from the praise. “Yeah, I mean…I think I owe Kat for a lot of it. She’s been so supportive when others haven’t…It makes a lot of difference when you have people in your corner.”
Marc nodded, “That’s so true. I never would have made it without Val. She held me to it, and I’m so thankful for that.” He paused, turning toward me with raised brows. “You know, if you ever need to talk about it or anything…I don’t mind. Sometimes it helps to talk through things with someone that’s been there. Especially if you’re having a moment…”
He pulled out his phone, “No pressure, but we can exchange digits that way you have it.”
I reached to pull my phone out of my pocket, “Yeah…sure. That’s really nice of you actually.”
I gave him my new number, then he sent me a text message so I could save his to my contact list. That was a development I wasn’t expecting, but I was strangely happy about it. I suddenly felt much better about how the evening was going to go. Kat caught my eye, giving me a questioning look. Something must have shifted about my body language, and she could sense it. I smirked, giving her a quick wink before taking another drink of water.
My attention shifted back to Marc as he handed me a large platter to hold while he piled the different meats on top of it, announcing the food was ready. We settled into easy conversation as we ate, getting to know one another a little better. Everyone seemed at ease. There was no pressure or awkwardness. It was nice to have normal conversation without all the posturing and cockiness that often came with Hollywood type gatherings. It was exactly what I needed.
As we all became more comfortable with each other, they got a little braver with their questions. Which led to Stefanie giving Kat and I a deadpan stare before asking, “So what’s really going on with you two? I’m not buying whatever shit TMZ put out today.”
Kat and I gave each other a nervous glance, I shrugged and held my hand up in surrender toward her indicating I was good with whatever she wanted to say.
She took a deep breath, smiling nervously as her eyes roamed around the table, “Well…we’re…”
She paused, her brows arching as her eyes found mine again. “I mean yeah…we’re together, but we’re trying to keep it under wraps…for several reasons.”
They were all smiling at us now. Stefanie threw her arms in the air like she had just won something, “I fucking knew it! I knew it. How long?”
Kat and I laughed at her enthusiasm. “Not long. Just since New York,” I answered.
Stefanie playfully shoved Marc, “I fucking told you. You owe me $100.”
Marc rolled his eyes, “Fine, I’ll Venmo you.”
Kat and I both scoffed, laughing over the fact they were making bets.
Marc pulled out his phone and began tapping away, “Don’t worry guys, we won’t say anything. I know Alec is an issue.”
Kat gave him a tight smile, “Yeah, we figured it best not to provoke him as much as possible. He’s looking for any excuse he can find to make what happened be my fault. There’s also Stacia and Joe with their meddling…I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of thinking they had anything to do with this.”
Valarie’s brows furrowed, “So what’s with the beach pictures and social media posts then?”
I chuckled, “Well, I apparently have an asshole neighbor that took pictures of us in what is essentially my back yard and sold them to TMZ. They reached out to my team asking if it was Kat, so I told them to deny it. I’m just gonna play it off like I’m seeing someone else…a total misdirection. At minimum, it’ll cause a little chaos and make Stacia and Joe lose their shit. We’ll see how long it lasts.”
Everyone laughed. Stefanie clapped her hands several times before announcing, “If anyone asks, we’ve all met Dieter’s new woman and she’s amazing. I’m totally backing this chaos.”
Agreements sounded out around the table which had Kat and I leaning into each other and laughing. We relaxed some after that. Now that our secret was out, I felt more comfortable showing affection toward her and her toward me. It was nice not to have to hold back, to be able to reach out and touch her when I wanted to, to put my arm around her or rest my hand on her thigh. At least we now felt like we had a safe space among friends.
Marc eventually steered the conversation to Kat’s plans after this season ended, which was something she and I hadn’t really discussed. We had been very much in the present up to this point and I was suddenly feeling like an asshole for not asking about it myself.
Kat’s excitement was clear as she answered, “Well, I’m really hoping to open up my own dance studio…and I would love to offer some classes for things that are a little harder to find around here. I still need to do more market research to see how that would look, but we can always have the normal stuff to fall back on too. I haven’t got to put as much work into yet as I would like, but once the show is over, I’m gonna jump in head first and see what happens.”
Marc seemed extremely interested in this, leaning forward with excitement in his eyes, “That’s amazing. I was actually considering doing the same. I still haven’t decided if I’m gonna do another season or not…but I did want to look at something like that when I’m finished. Maybe we can team up.”
Everyone began to throw ideas around at that point. It seemed like there was a real possibility something was brewing. I made a mental note to bring it up with Kat again later. I wanted to make sure I was supportive and help in any way I could. I also liked the thought of helping her plan for the future, because I really hoped that I would be welcomed as part of it.
After we finished up with dinner, we moved to the garage. Marc had converted the space to his “Jam Room”. It was full of various instruments - a piano in one corner while a drum set sat in the other. Several different types of guitars hung on the wall along with some small handheld percussion instruments. Microphones and small speakers sat around the room. It seemed to be a proper setup for making music, which surprised me. I wasn’t expecting to walk into this.
Kat looked almost giddy as she took in the space, which surprised me. She seemed to be coming out of her shell, which was understandable. They did well to make us feel welcome and relaxed.
Marc pulled an electric guitar down from the wall while Kira took her place at the drums, making it obvious they had done this before. Marc began to strum a slow sexy tune as Kira joined in with a beat. Stefanie started dancing around the room to the music as Valarie sat down at the piano. My gaze turned to Kat, she looked amused as her eyes met mine.
I smiled, arching my brows as my head began to sway with the music. She laughed, her cheeks flushing as she watched me move. I took it up a few notches, rolling my torso and hips as I shuffled toward her. I raised my arms, moving them to the beat, biting my bottom lip as I enticed her to join me. I was dancing for her, showing her what else these loose hips can do outside of the ballroom.
“What’s the matter, honey? Too hot for you?” I asked.
I could hear everyone else chuckling behind me as I grabbed her hand and pulled her to the center of the room to do a little old fashioned dirty dancing. When the song concluded, I pulled her in for a quick kiss and everyone whooped and whistled, which had her blushing even more. Once everyone settled down, I leaned in next to her ear, “Want me to go get your guitar?”
She gave me a toothy grin and nodded. After another quick kiss, I made my way outside to the car. I was back with both of our cases within minutes as Marc found a couple more chairs and microphones for us to join the circle. A couple of hours passed by in no time as we took turns choosing songs to play. Those who knew them joined in while the others just vibed. It was honestly the most fun I had in a long time.
Stefanie asked if she could take some videos to post on social media. We all agreed, figuring it would be good content to promote the show since we were supposed to be doing that anyway. I felt less weird about it since it was a whole group of people from the cast, rather than just Kat and me. I still felt pretty strongly about not taking advantage of our relationship to boost my own career. Deep down I knew that any content of us together would do that, but I did want to have some limits on it. She wasn’t a plaything for me to use as I saw fit. It needed to be on her terms.
After several minutes passed, Marc suggested that we go live and maybe take some song requests from the chat and answer some fan questions. After some coaxing, we all agreed. As Marc worked to set up the tripod, Stefanie turned to me with a mischievous smile, “Dieter, please try and behave yourself around Kat. I don’t wanna be on TMZ tomorrow for encouraging an affair that will destroy your imaginary girlfriend’s heart.”
That drew a round of laughter from everyone as I scrunched up my face, “I guess I already have a reputation…I’ll try my best.”
Once Marc had his phone set up, he mirrored his screen to one of the TV’s hanging on the wall so we could all see the chat, then we went live. Within minutes there were over two thousand viewers. The numbers only climbed from there, with people posting in all caps about Kat and I being there.
Kat snickered and pointed at the screen, “I guess the Dieterina Stans found us already.”
We waved and said ‘hi’ to everyone. Since it was Marc’s Instagram account, we motioned for him to take over and share what was going on. The song recommendations began to roll in, with Marc and Stefanie taking the lead on the first two. After that, the chat flooded with requests for me and Kat to sing. I deferred to her on that, asking if she wanted to do one. She shrugged, then asked the viewers for some song recs. We laughed over some of the options thrown out as she joked about them not being her style. Suddenly her brows arched as if something caught her attention. A smirk formed on her lips, “Hmm, that one is certainly a mood.”
We all gave her a questioning look. “Which one?” I asked.
She pulled the lyrics and chords up on her phone and propped it on the stand in front of us. I couldn’t help cackling. It would definitely send a message.
She turned to everyone else, “You guys know Eyes on Fire by Blue Foundation?"
Stefanie bounced up and down, laughing maniacally and clapping her hands. Probably having the same thought that I did. “I do! I’ll do the backup vocals.”
I swapped out my acoustic for one of Marc’s electric guitars for this one, playing the intro as Kat and Stefanie started in on the ethereal vocables that the song opens with. Kat’s voice took on an almost haunting melancholic tone as she dove into the first verse. The smirk still graced her lips as a knowing look passed between us. This was totally a major ‘fuck you’ to Alec, and I knew I was going to love every second of it.
🎶Listen to Eyes on Fire Here.
I'll seek you out / Flay you alive / One more word and you won't survive / And I'm not scared / Of your stolen power / I see right through you any hour I won't soothe your pain / I won't ease your strain / You've been waiting in vain / I've got nothing for you to gain
It was hard not to be absolutely mesmerized by her as she worked her way through the lyrics. It was obvious to me that something had finally shifted for her. She had taken back her life and was owning it - putting it out there for the world to see. She had escaped hell and was now controlling the narrative. It was her game to play. I loved seeing her like this, free to be herself and not holding back. It was a beautiful sight. My infatuation with her was probably written all over my face as I strummed the chords to the song, but I didn’t care. She was stunning like this.
Stefanie continued to sing the background vocals as Kat moved on to the next verse. Her eyes focused on me hungrily, our connection causing the air around us to vibrate. There was just something about us and music. It didn’t matter if we were dancing, playing, or singing. It caused an electricity to buzz around us, linking us together in a metaphysical way.
I'm taking it slow / Feeding my flame / Shuffling the cards of your game / And just in time / In the right place / Suddenly I will play my ace I won't soothe your pain / I won't ease your strain / You've been waiting in vain / I've got nothing for you to gain
At this point, the song was reaching the crescendo. Kira joined in with the drums and Marc with the bass guitar. I layered my vocals along with Kat’s, the sound even more haunting now as we finished out the final verse.
Eyes on fire / Your spine is ablaze / Felling any foe with my gaze / And just in time / In the right place / Steadily emerging with grace / Felling any foe with my gaze / Steadily emerging with grace
The chat was going absolutely insane when we finished. I thought I even saw a few “fuck Alec” comments fly by in the chaos of it.
Stefanie began to clap again, “I think we should start a band. We’re kicking ass here.”
We all laughed as she turned to me, “Alright Bravo, you’re up. Whatta ya got?”
I pursed my lips, “I dunno, I’m open to suggestions…”
We watched the chat flood with comments, there were a few song recommendations but there were even more questions.
Where’s Bravo’s new lady? Funny how everyone else has their romantic partner there except for Dieter. Dieter is so full of shit. We all know it’s Kat. Yo Bravo, where’s your beach babe? We wanna meet her! Has Kat met Dieter’s new girl?
I let out a nervous laugh as I glanced at Kat. She winked then gave me a mischievous smile before turning to the camera, “Guys chill. Yes, I’ve met Dieter’s significant other. I know her very well. We’re all friends.”
I chuckled, “Yeah, don’t worry. She’s not being left out…she’s here with me.”
This is the biggest conspiracy since the moon landing. I’m too high for this shit. What’s even happening? I thought he was gay? This hurts my soul. You two are made for each other! #Dieterina #NotJustFriends Maybe it's a throuple situation. No way they haven’t boned. Poor Kat, she's like the 7th wheel now.
I couldn’t help laughing at the comments, “Guys, come on, be nice…back to the song recs please.”
A song title finally caught my attention. I took a minute to check in with Kira and Marc to see if they were familiar with it before adjusting the mic so that I could stand for this one. I needed to be able to move around a bit. Once I was situated, Marc got us started with the opening guitar riff for The Devil Wears Lace. It was a nice little blues song about desire, temptation, attraction, and obsession.
Kat, Stefanie, and Val provided entertainment by dancing around us. It was all good fun until Kat’s eyes locked with mine. Her moves became more provocative as she approached me. By the time I hit the chorus she was the only thing I could focus on.
🎶Listen to The Devil Wears Lace Here.
So light me in flames / Just as hot as you need / Let me see the good girl you wanted to be / All of my praise, only from me / I can be the one who could set you free / Fall from your grace / Turn up the heat / I feel I'm going down, hands gripping the sheets / Settin' the pace / Number the beast / Got me by the belt, heart skippin' a beat / The devil and me
She moved around me, against me, up and down my body. I played into it of course, wiggling against her as I belted out the lyrics - both of us giving each other mischievous smiles. This was definitely going to get the conspiracy theories going. I couldn’t bother to care because she looked so fucking hot dancing like this. The slow sensual roll of her body was a sight to behold, and it was all mine. I loved to see her let loose and have fun like this.
When the song ended, she strutted away before bursting into laughter. It was a little infectious, causing me to do the same. The chuckles of everyone else drew my attention to the monitor. The comments had gone completely unhinged by this point.
They definitely fucked, at least once. Nobody pay attention to that vibrating sound… This is how pornos start. I’m not mad about it. So, IT IS a throuple then? I think Dieter’s secret lady likes to watch. I don’t blame her…Kat’s ass is a work of art. I’m still calling it a conspiracy. Kat is the beach chic. I know that ass and those thighs.
I huffed out a laugh and shook my head, “Can we not talk about Kat like that please? She’s not a piece of meat.”
Kat snorted out a laugh as she squeezed my arm in thanks. Marc jumped in to try and redirect the conversation, “Alright guys…I think one more and we’re gonna call it a night since we do have a rather long day tomorrow.”
He paused, obviously reading the comments about the show before chuckling, “Oh obviously Stefanie and I are gonna win the trophy.”
I laughed, “Hey now! We’ve gone all night without trash talking. Don’t you start…besides, obviously Kat and I are gonna win. I’m gonna call it though, we’ll be the top two groups. Nobody is beating us.”
Marc rolled his eyes, “Yeah, don’t try to sweet talk me after insulting me.”
Stefanie cut in, placing her hands on her hips as she spoke, “Now boys. Let’s play nice or Kat and I will drop you both and claim the win for ourselves.”
Marc and I both rolled our eyes in response as Val cut in, “Hey, how about we stop bickering and end with that song we did earlier. That was a good one…”
Marc and I both furrowed our brows, waiting for her to continue. She chuckled at our similar expressions before answering, “All on My Mind.”
We nodded as I shouted, “Ok…Kat we’re up.”
Kat and I took our place, sharing a freestanding mic as everyone jumped in with their instruments. I took lead, singing the main verses while Kat joined in on the chorus, alternating the lines.
🎶 Listen to All on My Mind Here.
I said, "Oh, honey, just like that" / I give you my loving and you give it right back / I said, "Oh, honey, just like this" / Hanging on white knuckle grip
Kat and I sang together for the remainder of the chorus while the rest of the group jumped in on the repeated lines.
It's all on my mind / Feel something when I kiss you good night / It's all on my mind / Feel something when I open my eyes / It's all on my mind / Feel that I could be your sweetest compromise / It's all on my mind / It's all on my mind
Our eyes stayed on each other, big smiles on our lips as we belted out the words in unison. I couldn’t deny that we sounded amazing together. Our voices complemented each other perfectly, especially when we leaned into the bluesy sounds of the music. Hell, truth be told, we all sounded pretty amazing as a group. Nothing could compare to how it felt singing with Kat though. We finished out the last verse together, completely at ease and having fun.
Well, me and my baby are the bass in the beat / A lo-fi rhythm, the sweat and the heat / Come on now lover, won't you follow my lead / And we'll move on into the night
The energy in the room was high as we finished it out after everyone gave it their all on the chorus refrain. It was probably the best one of the night. The chat was going wild with praise for everyone, but Kat and I were getting most of the attention.
Can we just get this crew their own show? So much more entertaining. 🙌 Dieter and Kat are amazing together. 😍😍😍 I had no idea Dieter Bravo had this much talent. Kat, marry me. I’m NOT an asshole. 🙏🙏 Both? Both. Yes. 😏
We all said our goodbyes after that, promising to do another live soon since we had so much fun together. Once Marc disconnected, we all broke into a fit of laughter.
Marc was still chuckling as he said, “I’m sure Stacia and Joe are gonna have a lot to say about that.”
“Yeah, I’m sure my publicist will too. I’ve done nothing but cause chaos all day,” I replied.
Kat came over, snaking her arm around my waist. She fought a smile as she leaned into me, “And, the plot thickens. Apparently, we’re in a throuple with your mystery lady now.”
I shook my head, “Yeah…I’m not even upset about that. I’ve been accused of worse things. I’m not sharing my Kit Kat though…” I paused, reaching down to swat her butt cheek, “This is Bravo’s ass.”
Her eyes darkened as she attempted to give me an admonishing look, but she failed. She was totally turned on by that.
My brow arched as she fought a smile. We were completely oblivious to everyone’s amused eyes on us. When we finally turned to look at them, a blush crept up Kat’s cheeks.
I cleared my throat, “Well, everyone…this was fun. We should do it again.”
They all nodded with knowing smiles. “We should probably…uhh…head out. We all have a ridiculously early start in the morning and I wanna be well rested so I can kick your ass on the dance floor.”
Marc and Stefanie both gave me a deadpan stare before flipping the bird, causing me to let out a boisterous laugh. “Ahh, I think I’ve finally found my people.”
Kat and I said our goodbyes, grabbing our guitar cases then heading out the door. The air around us was thick on the drive home. Kat definitely didn’t help the situation with her hand wandering dangerously close to a very much at attention little Bravo. Her eyes cut toward me with a smirk on her lips every time she did it.
We started pulling each other’s clothes off as soon as we walked through the door. We may not have gone to bed at a decent hour, but we definitely fell asleep happy and satiated.
Monday mornings meant performance day. We followed our usual routine, arriving at Television City studios extremely early so we could get our camera blocking out of the way first. That went smoothly and we nailed the routine on each run through. We were feeling pretty confident about it as we headed toward wardrobe for our final fitting.
Kat’s costume for the week really had my attention. There was just something about her in red. It looked amazing against her dark features and golden skin, giving her a sultry edge. This dress was no exception, the way it draped around her body and gathered in the back accentuated her curves in the best way. Her back and shoulders were completely exposed, emphasizing the muscular contours. This was an area that I had never given much attention to on woman, but hers were so fucking sexy. I couldn't help staring as she raised her arms and turned this way and that for Amy to pin bits of fabric for some minor alterations. The image was seared into my brain, I knew it would be the subject of one of my paintings later.
I ended up ditching the jacket and tie that went with my costume. It felt too constricting for the choreography of this dance. Before it was all said and done, I only wore the red pants and red velvety button up shirt - leaving several buttons open and rolling up the sleeves, at Kat’s request, of course.
(More after the graphics.)
Hair and makeup were pretty uneventful. We managed to snag our usual ladies, filling our time with banter and jokes as they worked. They gave Kat a sleek up-do this time. I swear she rolled her eyes every time they added a new bobby pin. I sort of didn’t mind it though, because I knew I would be the one to help her take them all out later. She suggested they leave my hair in loose curls this week. To my surprise, they actually did. However, they still put a shit ton of gel and hairspray in it to my dismay.
We had managed to avoid Alec and Lana the entire morning. We assumed he was hiding out in his dressing room as much as he could. Word seemed to be spreading about what an absolute asshole he was to Kat, and many didn’t take too kindly to it. He was no longer the popular one of the cast and Kat loved every second of it. His ego was definitely taking a hit, which was the one thing that would hurt him the most.
We could only be lucky for so long. Alec and Lana were already in the staging area when we got there. He didn’t even bother to try and hide the disdain on his still slightly bruised face. Lana kept shooting glances our way with an odd expression. It was almost smug, maybe? I couldn’t quite figure it out. Kat and I made sure to watch ourselves since the backstage cameras were circling like sharks, being sure to keep our interactions friendly between each other. We also made a point to not look Alec and Lana’s way after the initial sizing up. We didn’t want to give the producers anything to work with.
Kat did the opening performance with Marc and the rest of their group, then rushed to change. I stayed with her the entire time, not chancing leaving her alone while the asshole was in the same building. There would not be another repeat of what happened after New York.
Alec and Lana were two performances ahead of us, still doing very well and obtaining a high score. They scored 2 points under Marc and Stefanie, which put them in second place for the night. If Kat and I had it our way, they would soon be in third.
We went through our usual routine of picking a hype song. I took the lead again this week, pulling up one of my favorite rock songs, You Shook Me All Night Long. Kat gave me that little smirk that I loved so damn much as she shook her head and laughed at me. I shrugged before transitioning into some of my goofy dance moves - pursing my lips as I wiggled my hips. She joined in of course, laughing at my ridiculousness through the entirety of it.
Before we knew it, it was our turn. Kat took her place in the center of the dance floor. As the music began to play, I walked toward her seductively, caressing her cheek as I circled her before grazing her nose with mine. After fanning her outward, our fast paced choreography synced with the quick beat of the Spanish style guitars. We commanded the attention of the room with our strong staccato footwork and vivacious presence. It was every bit as dramatic as we had intended it to be.
I’ll admit, I was nervous about my solo part. Up until this point, I hadn’t really had choreography this challenging without Kat by my side. The quick and precise body movements along with the flamenco style footwork while trying to exude assertive energy really was a lot of work. However, we only had to do it once. I didn’t have to pace myself for hours of rehearsal time, which meant I put everything I had into it. By the time I reunited with Kat to finish out the last part of the routine, I was feeling pretty damn cocky about the whole thing. The cockiness only added to the overall effect and took the performance over the top.
Kat’s movements were fluid and graceful as she danced around me, waving her flowy skirt. We continued with the stomping footwork, shaping our arms and hands into dramatic poses as we sidestepped each other. The electricity between us was buzzing at max levels as it always did when we performed together. The intensity of her gaze nearly took my breath away the handful of times our eyes connected. We were both in the zone and fucking killing it. We ended with a dramatic lift. I caught her by the hand before she fell back onto the floor for a dip to end it.
I pulled her upward and wrapped my arms around her as the crowd’s near deafening screams and applause sounded around us. I had to fight the urge to crash my lips against hers at that moment. There was so much adrenaline and passion between us that I could have burst into flames from it. I wanted nothing more than to get her home and work some of it off.
We went through the whole routine of doing the interview and waiting for our scores. With massive effort, we managed to keep our hands off each other in any inappropriate way. The whole thing was a blur. I don’t think I paid a lick of attention to anything the judges actually said. All I know is we got another perfect score, putting us in first place - again. To our surprise, we were met with more cheers than usual from the cast. Marc and Stefanie were the loudest among them of course.
Marc and Stefanie invited us out for a celebratory dinner afterwards. I left it up to Kat. She declined, citing how this week had worn her out and she wanted to go home and get some rest before we woke up to do it all over again. They were bummed but understanding. I was a little bummed too, until we walked through the door at my place.
Kat was definitely not as worn out as she let on, dragging me upstairs to the bedroom, peeling clothes off as we went. After a rather passionate round of sex, I made sure to give her a lot of aftercare that included a massage and hot bath while I made her some dinner. She might not have been feeling it right then with the rush of endorphins we both had surging through our veins, but I knew she would be soon. This week had been rough, and I wanted to see to it that she was properly taken care of so that we were ready to take on whatever week 8 had in store for us.
✨Fun Fact: The song that Dieter and Kat are dancing to is this chapter is called Uccen, which translate to "The Wolf". Given that Dieter wears that little wolf ring, I found it fitting.
✨Your Paso Doble video for this chapter can be found HERE. Seriously, one of the best performances ever. It won and Emmy! This couple is married in real life and always burn up the dance floor when they perform.
Next: Week 8
A/N: So, this got posted a couple days later than I had planned. It was a doozy to edit and I'm sure I probably missed a lot. I do apologize but work did indeed kick my ass last week. Hopefully it was worth the wait.
We got lots of smutty goodness in this chapter. I 100% blame Mr. Pascal for his holiday beach antics. There was just too much inspiration. Some of it was planned and some of it wasn't. I'm not sorry.
Dieter and Kat are getting pretty close. They are completely embedding each other in the other's life. All of Dieter's people know now and Kat's sister knows. Dieter is pouring his heart out and sharing about his past, yet Kat is still in her head about everything. Do we smell drama brewing there?
They've also made some new friends. How are we feeling about Marc and crew? Good or bad?
Dieter has started his Instagram live shit. More to come on that. Also...his Instagram posts, that man is stirring up all the drama with those. Good or bad idea?
Zee got some love in this chapter. I love me some good Dee and Zee drama. They are both shit heads and we love them for that.
There was so much that went down in this chapter that I can't think of what all to highlight. So, please do show some love with a reblog and sound off about it. I wanna hear all the unhinged thoughts!
Week 8 will bring us the Viennese Waltz, and with that comes LOTS of drama. Y'all might want to have a tissue handy, because the shit is going to hit the fan.
Until next time,
💜Mysty
Chapter Credits: - Giving @avastrasposts credit for the SuccDee name. She saw it when I didn't, even though it was right there. -Major credit to @bitchwitch1981 for song inspo. She turned me onto The Devil Wears Lace and All on My Mind.
Taglist: @titlee78 @legendary-pink-dot @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed
@hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin
@cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza
@girlofchaos @trulybetty @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
#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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Chapter 66 Trepidation Posting
Well, dear void... I begged for Seitei War lore and a finger curled on the monkey's paw. Where to even begin?
Rough TL of the editor's notes:
First Page: 封じられた記憶… [fuji rareta kioku...] "Sealed memories..." Last Page: 妖刀も妖術もなくただその剣技で- [yoto mo yojutsu mo naku tada sono kengi de-] "No enchanted blades, no sorcery, just swordsmanship-"
Iori Lore and Dad Stuff
What a cute creature.
Her fake last name is Yoshiura (吉浦): 吉 (yoshi) for good luck/joy and 浦 (ura) for bay/creek/inlet. Nothing particularly interesting or exciting about it but it has a nice sentiment.
I'm in a better headspace now so I can do some thinking that needed to be done last week. Let's take some notes about the current arc and it's continued focus on one of Kagurabachi's key themes: Daddy Issues™.
Chihiro: lost his dad through tragedy, memories haunt and drive him. Was loved dearly and loved his father back in return. Acting on his grief in violent ways.
Hakuri: lost his dad through abuse, let go of his memories and found closure on that front. Was loved dearly then discarded but never stopped loving his dad.
Iori: lost her dad through his own guilt, trying to recover her memories of him. Was loved dearly and seemed to love him back in return. The memories she had with him were so upsetting that she passed out when she got them back.
Hiruhiko: mostly unknown right now, but clearly special to John and spoiled a bit by him. Surprisingly wholesome relationship despite how unhinged he is. If he was truly adopted like many fans think then John was probably a doting dad from the start.
So the "similar" traits based on what we know are...
Lost Their Dad: Chihiro, Hakuri, Iori
Dad Murdered/Killed: Chihiro, Hakuri
Dad Deliberately Abandoned Them: Hakuri, Iori
Were Always Loved by Their Dad: Chihiro, Hiruhiko, Iori
Dad was Burdened by Guilt: Chihiro, Iori
And the "unique" traits are...
Abused by Their Dad: Hakuri
Clings to Memory of Dead Dad: Chihiro
Dad Forgot About Them: Iori
Spoiled Brat Thanks to Dad: Hiruhiko
Chihiro and Iori are the ones being directly compared right now. They both lost their fathers, but Samura's a real piece of work compared to what we know about Kunishige. He chose to forget her in order to protect her whereas Kunishge went into hiding to stay with Chihiro. One child forgotten on purpose, one clinging to memories because that's all he has left.
Yeah, Samura's not winning any "Best Dad" awards any time soon- but it's hard to blame him when we see what the family was enduring because of his reputation after the war. Any half-decent parent wants their kid to grow up without having to see that kind of stuff. Samura just let guilt have too much influence over his choice on how to manage it, in my opinion. Kids should have a bit of say in how they're raised too. Not a lot but at least enough be able to feel seen and heard.
As for the other two, Hakuri and Hiruhiko are in pretty good shape. Hakuri's still smarting over the loss of his dad most likely, but he got the catharsis he was craving when Kyora finally acknowledged him right before he died. That particular wound can start to close up and heal as Hakuri moves on through the story, unlike Chihiro and Iori's at present. And Hiruhiko seems to be in the best spot out of the four as John's special little guy who can do whatever he wants. Spoiling kids isn't being a good parent but Hiruhiko's in a pretty good state all things considered- probably the best out of the four. We have plenty more to dig in with him so this'll get revisited once development happens or new information drops.
But yeah. Chihiro being rightfully angry at Samura for deciding to sever the parent/child bond so lopsidedly tracks with his unresolved trauma. Of course he thinks he wouldn't want to change a thing about living with his father. He's still deep in mourning and floundering in the morass of grief he uses to push himself forward. I wonder if we'll get commentary on this at some point... it's such a core aspect to his personality and the story that it might be saved for the end.
Iori's choice is left for another chapter but I have a feeling she'll agree with Chihiro and keep the memories despite the pain and danger they bring. Samura's guilt needs to be addressed and the daughter he chose to forget should have the biggest part in confronting him about it! The story can become an escort mission of sorts to keep Iori safe until that happens, which leads to easy action so hooray for us.
Perception and Being Perceptive
Yeah, he is. But that's not all.
And here we go, we're back to how people look at Chihiro and judge him without knowing the truth. Samura, Kunishige, and the other Bearers are "heroes" who seem to have some rather serious crimes buried in their pasts. Chihiro is a "murderer" stricken with grief killing those who try to destabilise society. Simple, no-frills parallels between guys drowning in guilt that anyone can pick up on.
What else is going on here? Well, those who were saying the hotel was inspired by John Wick are almost certainly correct with sorcery and fights being forbidden within it's walls. The Manager and his staff/followers enforce this with his own sword technique: Reigen One Sword School/Style (no relation to Reigen Arataka of Mob Psycho 100 fame). 礼 (rei): salute, thanks, gratitude, etiquette 玄 (gen): mysterious, occultness, profound
How... polite?
No, that's not Kumeyuri, and anyone who asks gets a bonk on the head for not paying attention.
Small note that wasn't kept in EN: Hiruhiko refers to Toto as "Toto-san", which is cute. He respects her and/or she's older than him.
Of course Toto summons Hiruhiko in so he can begin his own training arc by facing off against the hotel's staff. The bloody pin being used to tie his hair back will definitely not inspire a ton of fan art, trust me. It will be a Hiruhiko-free week everywhere (RIP my feeds). But Hiruhiko's really racking up the service industry experience between being bonded to Kumeyuri with it's geisha spirits and learning how to fight from hotel employees using a polite sword fighting technique.
Other than that, it's not clear if Kuguri's in this hotel or not but chances are extremely good that we'll get more hot-blooded action next chapter as Hiruhiko and Chihiro both learn by doing. Maybe they'll meet again, maybe not. The only guaranteed thing is that Sumi and Moku are wasting their time by prepping the seal on the roof because Iori's not going to want it even if it's finished before another dramatic escape is made.
Desperate cope theory while I'm here: maybe we can see Hakuri again soon since he and Hiruhiko have that "what is friendship, anyway" thing going on with Chihiro. That cut from Hiruhiko yapping about battling to the death as "equals" to Hakuri on the page turn in chapter 54 is still eating at my brain, yes. And Chihiro just reminded us that he feels inferior to Hakuri (he's gonna become his samurai it's canon no one can take this from me). Depends on how the next chapter plays out but I'm hoping. Dying. I'm dying without Hakuri. Please I miss him so bad just one new panel is all I'm begging for.
"Truth"?
OK. Time to let the brain worms squiggle freely over about two pages' worth of Seitei War information.
So, first... a translation note (sigh). The subject of how the war ended will probably come up now that the beginning of it was given to us (or at least, a particular version of it).
Chapter 9, if you forgot. Thank you Hella for catching this when I was all set to yap about the implications of an armistice vs. other ways to end a war.
How the war ended is still a mystery but it might not have actually been an armistice as implied by the English translation of the signboard. The word used in Japanese to describe it is 終戦 (shuusen), simply "end of war/cessation of hostilities" in a formal and pretty final way. The method could have been anything: surrender, peace treaty, and so on. An actual armistice would use 停戦 (teisen - temporary ceasefire for negotiations), 休戦 (kyuusen - a short-term truce/suspension of fighting), or 偃武 (enbu - mutually laying down arms but without the finality of shuusen) to describe both sides agreeing to pause the fight. So there might not have been mutual feelings that the war needed to stop for both sides' benefit like an armistice would imply, leaving a lot of room for the losing side to build up resentment.
Of course we all know that peace treaties coming from armistices can do the same thing if they are crafted poorly- The Treaty of Versailles used to end WWI is probably the most well-known example in the West. But the ambiguity exists in Japanese and should have stayed in English in my opinion. Folks who remember this signboard from early in the manga might be confused if it turns out the end of the war wasn't so peaceful or mutual after all.
With that out of the way, I want to talk about how fucking suspicious the story of how the war started is.
Keep in mind that Chihiro, Iori, and the Masumi don't know the truth of what actually happened- they're only recounting what they were taught or read about.
"But that all changed when the Fire Nation attacked" this is not.
小国 (shokoku): small country. NOT the actual name of the place, just describing it for what it was. "Twenty-two years ago... a 'small island nation' appeared in the south-east seas..." would be more accurate. (Thanks as always, Hella.)
So, right out of the gate, a whole damn country appearing out of nowhere full of people using magic rocks to attack the mainland sounds like something straight out of a child's fairy tale. You're telling me that Japanese Atlantis rose out of the ocean and became hostile right away, completely unprovoked? That's the kind of framing used to justify showing a foe no mercy. It's an essential part of successful propaganda- dehumanise the enemy, make them seem unknowable, monstrous, and imminently threatening.
The datenseki bit is especially interesting. How did these undersea people have natural compatibility with a stone named as if it came from a meteor?
雫 (da) - drop, trickle 天 (ten) - sky, heavens 石 (seki) - stone
And in such quantities that they could wage a war with it, despite it being rather scarce? (Only 250kgs exist per Sojo in chapter 11; same weight as nearly 12 average-sized countertop dishwashers in Freedom Units.) I suppose a giant meteor could have dropped in the ocean on their territory, or they could have mined it from the seabed, but I don't believe this conveniently simplistic version of events for a second. Not after so much emphasis was put on how shady the Kamunabi is and that they are hiding a lot of shit from the general public.
I doubt an island rose out of the sea as the story claims at all, honestly. While Japan does sit on the Pacific Ring of Fire and sees little islands pop up then vanish back beneath the waves all the time, one big and stable enough to have a whole nation's worth of people on it would not have gone undetected for so long. It beggars belief that the mainland didn't know they had a whole bunch of people living off the coast underwater unless they were using sorcery to hide from sonar and exploratory/research missions.
My bets are on this "invading" nation to have been a populated island that existed for a while and for some reason -probably related to the datenseki- war broke out between them and the mainland. Classic grab for resources, discontent with the mainland rulers vs. the island's own government, everything's still on the table. Maybe they were a long-lost fragment of society that tried to reintegrate, who knows?! But does anyone really think a war that started with such one-sided aggression out of the blue would have the population reacting to the people that saved them like this?
Not exactly a "hero's welcome".
"Disappear", "Atone for your sins", and "mass murderer" painted on the side of someone's house with garbage dumped in front is not reflecting the sentiments of people who are happy that the threat to everything they know and love was dealt with. That's outrage! Probably something to do with how the enemy was "wiped out" (JP:掃討 [soutou], cleaned up/swept clean/mopped up, specifically of enemies.) Sounds like the so-called invaders from Japanese Atlantis were thoroughly eliminated...
Iori is very young here, probably elementary school age. So this is a few years after the war in an unknown location- there's a chance this was on the enemy's island, but why would he live among the remaining enemies? He doesn't need more guilt than he already has, seriously. Also, since he was reputable as the fastest swordsman alive when the blades were being handed out, he most certainly wasn't a defector from the enemy's side. Thus I believe this scene takes place on the mainland.
It seems to me like it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows after the war so the Kamunabi came up with a publicity campaign and squashed the truth somehow. But that doesn't erase the memories of the people involved, either as participants or witnesses. I'm extremely curious as to how other members of the war generation remember things. The blades themselves were only used in empty fields (according to Azami, ch. 9) so the Kamunabi could spin that any way they wanted and likely did. But if that was the case, then who saw what and told others to kick off the harassment campaign? Are there mainlanders who dissent to the Kamunabi's rule because of that information not being completely suppressed and thus help out the Hisaku- like Kyora and the Sazanamis were implied to be doing? Remember, Kyora wasn't quite manipulated as thoroughly as Chihiro recounted to Uruha in chapter 48. He definitely had some personal and/or political sympathies with our favourite group of silly bad guys:
Chapter 22. "Dissidents" aren't business rivals or competitors- they're specifically political opponents against the current regime. The term used in Japanese (異分子 [ibunshi], outsiders/alien elements) has slightly different connotations but can mean the same thing.
This is what I meant by the monkey's paw curling at the start of this post. We got crumbs that only really raise more questions instead of answering anything. For now I am still clinging on to the theory of the Seitei War being a civil war... mostly because I don't know if the author intends to tell a story with blunt commentary on the misdeeds of Imperialist governments.
Possible Real-World Influences
Hakuri has nothing to do with this, I just miss him.
So, I know a lot of people have Attack on Titan's swerve into "What the Hell, Author?!" territory still fresh in their minds and I do too. What Hokazono-sensei's setting up here has some eerie similarities with a corrupt government hiding a lot of shit and the mysterious enemies being more sympathetic than they should be... I just hope we don't take the same route of "both sides were bad, so the military needs to protect us all and destroy the worse evil" that seems to happen a lot in these WWII allegory stories.
Not to get political about an action manga, but the discussions in Japan over how to teach younger generations about what went down in the WWI and WWII eras are pretty tense right now. A great deal of emphasis is put on the suffering of the people that happened after Japan was nuked twice -which was a tragedy- but the real story is lost in the debates about what and how much to teach. There's a lot of folks who want to minimize and omit lessons about the war crimes the nation committed in China, Korea, the Philippines, and the rest of the Pacific. There are even a handful who vociferously defend them as "necessary" things that happened during wartime.
I see a lot of this reflected in Kagurabachi's arc right now. We've been told several times that the Kamunabi's version of events can't be trusted and that there's something awful that was covered up. The Hishaku want some secret to come to light and it will almost certainly have hugely negative impacts on the Kamunabi, the Bearers, and likely Kunishige too. Chihiro needs to know what happened as a core part of his character arc, and it will probably come with the realisation that the conflict he's embroiled in is much more complex than a simple revenge mission can solve. Whatever the truth of the situation is will shatter his worldview.
Where Attack on Titan failed in executing this sort of plotline was making the Titans a genuine threat that needed to be put down after revealing what they really were. You don't set up obvious real-world parallels to groups that have suffered greatly in the past just to say they were a real threat all along. You don't downplay government's corruption and cruelty with "well the other guys weren't great either". But this isn't an AoT blog so I'll stop there.
I don't see a reason to be nervous about Kagurabachi making the same mistakes right now after the sensitive writing around difficult topics from previous arcs. I'm paying close attention to where the Seitei War information crumbs lead us, though. I'm interested in most things the author has to say if it's well-told but I'm not going to stick around for justification of jingoist ideology. I also hope that the author will be able to tell the story he wants even if it happens to go against the government's prevailing sensibilities.
We don't know yet where this will go so I'll just wait and watch with a bit of trepidation. I trust Hokazono-sensei to not repeat mistakes author authors have made, but he could well make new ones as an author writing his first-ever serialisation. I just want whatever comes of this plotline to have something interesting to say like the others before it...
We'll leave it here for today, dear void. Thanks for reading all this if you got through it and let's sit tight for some awesome hotel fight action next week! Say something nice about yourself once a day in the meantime. Every other or even just one day is fine if that's all you can manage too- we all start somewhere.
#kagurabachi#long post#Dad powerscaling notes: Kunishige > John > power gap > Samura > Kyora#Back on my meds and yapping too much again as is tradition#Yes I know volume is not the same as mass just let me have fun by rehashing a tired old joke#Hokazono-sensei will be legendary if he calls out shitty Imperialist attitudes in the current political climate just saying
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January 2025 Books
Work by Louisa May Alcott
The first part of the book, which explores the protagonist's efforts to get by in various lines of work, caught my interest. But I was less invested in the second half, which was mostly a lot of pining and hero-worship. Alcott has interesting things to say, but the ending with its emphasis on the sisterhood/partnership of many different women doesn't feel as earned as it could be after chapters and chapters of swooning over Mr. Totally Not Thoreau.
Wormwood Abbey and Drake Hall by Christina Baehr
The premise of these is striking and I feel there's a middle-grade adventure novel in here about the protagonist's brother and younger cousins that is just dying to emerge.
A Clearer Sky by Krystal Bailey
A sequel to The Secret Garden ostensibly about the effects of WWI on the now grown-up Mary, Dickon, and Colin, but mostly concerned with a love triangle between them. It seems to be more influenced by the 1993 film than the original book; multiple features specific to the film come up, and the narrative contradicts the book multiple times and ignores or misinterprets important characters and relationships.
(For instance: Colin's obnoxiousness is exaggerated and made defining in order to emphasize Dickon's preferability as a romantic prospect, and the boys are not friends but openly hostile romantic rivals until Colin is safely interested in a woman who isn't Mary. Mrs. Sowerby is just an obstacle to Mary and Dickon's romance rather than a beloved mother figure, and she dies off-screen in passing, barely mourned. Martha and Dickon are the only Sowerby siblings. Dr. Craven is never mentioned and seems not to exist, since the long-tenured local doctor whom Mary goes to work for is an OC. Mrs. Medlock retires to spend time with her grandchildren, although it's implicit in the book that she is not a mother. Mary brushes off her parents' neglect by acknowledging to herself that it must be hard to have to deal with a child, especially one as "introspective" [???] as she was. Etc.)
There was potential in subplots like Mary's working for the local clinic and eventually going to London to work as a postal carrier, but ultimately the book's point is all the romance. I did not care for how this was portrayed--yes, I am very picky about this sort of thing, but I felt that the relationships between Mary / Dickon and Colin / Female OC were shallow, increasingly so as the book ended.
This was made more difficult because, despite the presence of an editor, this text badly needed editing for wordiness, excessive and poorly-used dialogue tags, injudicious overuse of adverbs, "off" word choices, preoccupation with facial tics, etc. Lack of historical research also stood out; although the author states in her note that she did research certain aspects of WWI but did not want this story to be a work of academic research, attention to basic details of daily life and social customs in England at this time would have better grounded the narrative in the setting it was attempting to portray without getting too "academic" about it.
For a novel that presented itself as a homage to the original story, it showed a lot less interest in interacting with and drawing from the story than it did in how soon the ship will kiss. And as someone who loves The Secret Garden for its friendships and themes and who has never particularly cared whom any of these kids got together with, I was disappointed.
Shirley by Charlotte Bronte
A few interesting characters, but so much digression into social issues and satire and so. much. pining. for an incredibly mediocre man. The friendship between Caroline and Shirley felt more real, probably because Shirley apparently was inspired by Emily Bronte, who passed away before this book was completed.
Cousin Phillis and Other Tales by Elizabeth Gaskell
These are uneven for me. Some of them I liked well enough, others dragged, and others puzzled me more than anything. Whatever the case, though, Gaskell is always fantastic at characterization.
The Blithedale Romance by Nathaniel Hawthorne
Once again, I don't get why any of these people are romantically interested in the people they're interested in (which is a major part of everyone's motivations here). I see what Hawthorne is doing thematically, I think, and I respect it, but this isn't one I'll pick up again in a hurry. I'm still interested in trying some of his other works, though.
Here in the Real World by Sara Pennypacker (reread)
There's a whole middle-grade subgenre about young people finding some kind of healing or personal growth through engaging with a private place in nature, and maybe someday I'll hunt more down. This story was still good on the second read, although I wanted very badly to step in and help the kids with the religious misconceptions that follow them throughout the narrative. (They're planting a garden in the ruins of a demolished church. One of the kids knows practically nothing about Christianity; the other knows just enough to completely misunderstand it, and they never get to a point of deeper understanding but are left to arrive at their own disjointed conclusions.)
Fugitive Telemetry by Martha Wells (reread)
Still enjoying the reread of this series.
The Road to Roswell by Connie Willis
I expected to like this one, but not as much as I actually did! It reads like a screwball comedy crossed with scifi, westerns, and road trip comedies. It's so much fun. I never expected to find an alien that resembles a tumbleweed to be so ultimately endearing, the adventure and plot twists kept things interesting, and I actually liked this romance because it wasn't all-consuming, the characters developed an actual relationship over the course of the story, and it made sense for the genre(s). Definitely the best story I could have started the year off with.
Comics
Space Boy by Stephen McCranie (reread)
I need to reread this sometimes. This month was one of those times.
JSA Omnibus Vol. 1-2
Like a lot of team books, JSA 1999 tends to be more about action than character development, and a lot of the storylines didn't do much for me. But some of them did, like the time travel arc in which various JSA legacies have to go back in time to convince their predecessors not to give up on heroics. And Albert's rather heart-breaking descent into darkness and desire for redemption. And Rick's storyline about the one last hour he gets to spend with his dad and how that resolves. I need to finish the last twenty or so issues for completeness.
DC Finest: Events: Zero Hour Part One
Nice to have some context for this event that's so pivotal to the era of comics that I tend to read from! Not all of these issues made sense to me, since I'm not familiar with all these characters, but the ones that I have enough background for were interesting. I will definitely be getting Part Two when it's released (in part because it collects some issues featuring some of my particular people).
#random personal stuff#sorry I am a loveless robot who doesn't get romance in stories#except when I do!#I'm looking for characters who genuinely bond as people and who make sense together / bring out the best in each other#NOT an emphasis on the heat and magnetism and desire and pining and general sappiness and so on which does nothing for me
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do u have hcs for sams post canon family life
Ok so gonna preface this with the fact that I hold opinions that I think are relatively uncommon in this corner of Samblr which is that as a general overarching thing Sam was relatively happy, he and blurry partner stayed together and were mostly happy, and Sam was on the whole a pretty good dad. Not that everything was perfect, far from it, but that generally it all worked out ok. I feel this way mostly tbh because if I didn't I would genuinely struggle to get any enjoyment out of the finale. I'm a FAKE Sam suffering enjoyer lmao. It's already deeply fucking depressing to me to imagine Sam spending eternity in heaven with Dean being squished back into The Roles, I need SOMETHING so cling too lol.
ANYWAYS that being said:
Said this before but although I am fairly flexible on identity of blurry partner my personal favourite thing to come back to is that she is Amelia. So I'm gonna run with her for the rest of these.
Related to this is that I think when we see Sam leave the bunker in the finale to go on the hunt in Texas that ended up being the last time he ever returned. He didn't mean it to be, it just happened. Maybe subconsciously he knew because he'd packed the little memory box with pictures etc in the trunk of the Impala without thinking about it. Anyway keeping this on track, he ends up staying in Texas and eventually, he and Amelia run into each other again - her having left Don again after things didn't work out a few years ago (gonna be real with you I think Don was abusive) and end up reconnecting.
Riot and Miricle are kinda grumpy but tolerant about each other.
They also eventually adopt an old lady tabby cat from the local shelter who absolutely terrorises both dogs, but dotes on Sam.
Sam ends up telling Amelia the truth about his life about 3 months into their relationship restarting, not all of it, but enough to keep her aware. She says that honestly even though it sounds crazy it makes a LOT of sense of how Sam was when they first met. This is the point at which they decide they do want their relationship to last and be serious. Amelia suggests they do couple's counselling together, given both their past issues if they really want to make this work.
He and Amelia never marry for a variety of reasons, but it works for them.
Sam ends up getting a degree - I think in something like anthropology (me an archaeologist totally not biased here lol), he does it through a distance learning program so mostly online but with some in-person classes and workshops.
DJ wasn't a planned pregnancy and it took a lot of discussion between them to decide to go ahead. Sam in particular was very anxious about the idea of being an actual dad to an actual baby, as much as he was kinda one to Jack he knows this is a whole different level. Amelia never wanted kids with Don. Amelia is also in her 40s by the time it happens so there are extra potential complications to consider. In the end they both agree that they want go ahead, and they both acknowledge that this will probably be their only kid.
Already mentioned Sam and DJ being autistic elsewhere but that's very precious to me.
Sam does struggle to find a balance between making sure he's there for DJ in a way his dad wasn't for him and being too much of a helicopter parent. He's SO conscious of DJ being an only child and the potential for loneliness stemming from that (absolutely projecting his own childhood loneliness SO hard and of course, his ideas on sibling companionship are NOT normal lol). As DJ get's older Sam does manage to relax a little, although it is still an issue from time to time.
That being said as I mentioned previously re the autism headcannon this level of worry also means that Sam puts in SO much work and research into being a supportive dad to an autistic kid.
Amelia is the 'breadwinner' in the relationship, continuing to work as a vet, Sam works a series of different part-time jobs over the years, mostly involving fixing stuff. After he gets his degree he works a couple of days a week at the local library as an assistant.
Related, finally stopping hunting gave him time to really catch up with and assess his body, and a lot of the weight and wear and tear of what he'd been through hit him quite suddenly. He has chronic fatigue issues in particular for the rest of his life which is why part-time work ends up being the best solution for him. Although Amelia, and DJ when he's a teenager, do still frequently have to sit him down and force him to stop trying to do too much at once.
Amelia passes away before Sam. She had been dead for about 5 years by the time Sam died.
Sam keeps very little contact with the hunting world, but Jody does still come to visit. DJ is very fond of her, much to Sam's delight.
The first time Sam had to look after DJ on his own after Amelia went back to work full time and was working a nightshift he was stuck to him like glue, Amelia came home to find him curled up on the floor asleep right next to DJs cot.
Sam loves helping DJ with his homework, and DJ loves it too - its their special time together, and its when Sam is able to be most emotionally open and present.
Sam's issues with food never go away, and its one thing he and Amelia do get into fights over is Sam (unintentionally) putting some of his issues on DJ (think Sam telling Jack he shouldn't eat sugary cereal).
Sam and Amelia both discover a love of gardening and they spend a lot of their free time together working on their garden. Amelia particularly loves roses and has a little rose garden that becomes their little sanctuary (Amelia's ashes are buried there). Sam creates a little healing herbs garden, he doesn't actively practice witchcraft but he likes to make little tinctures and teas and stuff.
I'll stop there lol
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You know the answer.
Because you can give him true pleasure.
Magic flows from your fingertips, threading its way into the most hidden corners of his mind. You feel it slip past the barriers built from years of fear and submission, feel his desires like a trembling vibration through the web of your spell.
They are buried beneath layers of pain, humiliation, and false hopes—some so deeply hidden that he has long stopped acknowledging them.
But you find them.
Freedom. Not just from Cazador, but from the weight of his past.
Power. The ability to seize his own fate—and shape the fates of those who dare stand against him. Safety.
To be seen. To be wanted for who he is, not for what he can offer in return.
Your magic brushes against these desires, weaving them into a perfect harmony, shaping them into something tangible, something real.
It is all here. Safety. The gentle caress of sunlight. The taste of rich, aged wine.
Pleasure, no longer something to be given—only to be received, savored.
His breath quickens. His lips part, trembling, curving into a tentative—genuine—smile. His eyelids flutter, as if he’s seeing something wonderful.
Is he… happy?
Again, the question echoes within you.
Why are you doing this?
The answer crashes over you like an icy wave, knocking the breath from your lungs.
You’ve done this before.
Again.
And again.
A sharp jolt of memory spears through you, cutting like a blade.
Dark walls of cold stone.
Flickering candlelight.
The scent of blood.
Faces staring at you in reverence—worship.
As if you were their godess.
You remember the thrill.
To be the reason for their bliss.
To be the reason for their agony.
Oh, that moment—
when a tender caress turns to cold steel against bare skin.
It was always your little game.
Your art.
Your favorite way. To kill.
Darkness crashes over you, dragging you under.
The air is gone, your lungs burn, the void swallows everything—sight, sound, self.
But this time—you refuse to surrender.
With staggering effort, you rip yourself free, as if breaking the surface of a dark sea where no light, no sound exists.
The air sears your throat as you gasp, sharp and ragged.
You are you again.
You don’t know how much time has passed, but your eyes snap down to your hands—
Nothing.
Not a single drop of blood.
Your heartbeat pounds so violently it drowns out all other sound.
You’re lucky. It was only a few seconds.
Still breathing hard, you cast a wary glance toward Astarion’s unmoving figure.
You lean in, holding your breath.
He’s asleep. Deeply.
You’ve never seen his face so at peace.
So… serene?
And… gods, it almost looks like he’s dreaming of something good.
You step back soundlessly.
Your fingers tremble.
"Never again," you whisper, your voice breaking—so soft, so fragile it is almost a plea.
And you can say nothing more.
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#I think she'll start drinking after these memories😅.#baldur's gate 3#bg3#bg3 screenshots#astarion#astarion ancunin#bg3 astarion#drow#astarion x durge#alstroemeria x astarion#alstroemeria#bg3 fanfiction#durge diary#durge x astarion#durge bg3#durge#dark urge bg3#bg3 dark urge#drow durge
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i've been finding ojima’s relationship with therapy and how people react to it quite interesting. he's gone through some horrible shit, and yeah he could really benefit from therapy, but therapy is something that really requires the person to be willing to put their baggage out there, so it's absolutely valid that ojima hasn't actually stuck with it. I do appreciate that sasaki and hiroaki had been checking in on him, it's clear that they just care for him, but ojima reacts to that with pushback and rightfully so because it’s something SO hard to come to terms with. idk just something ive been thinking about lately!
Yeah the whole therapy thing with Ojima is something I think is really interesting. Ojima has a very hard time opening up to people about anything really. As his primary coping mechanism consists of burying all of his problems and escaping from reality so him actually talking to someone and confronting them head on would be very stressful for him. For him ignoring all his problems is his method with coping with his trauma, especially with what he said in Young Forever
“Because I’m not ready. I can’t. I can’t think about it. I don’t want to think about it.”
So for him therapy is forcing him to acknowledge what he went through was real and to actually process it instead of hiding away, and how he feels he’s not ready to talk about it he dropped out so many times.
There’s also how I think about a lot how Ojima’s situation was highly publicised and all across from the news as he was from a rich and influential family, and because of that he’s developed a fear of people “getting into his head” as he words it. As he’s been constantly pestered for interviews and likely people only interested in him for his connections, that he’s become extremely emotionally shut off from everyone and does not want people to know about him. Especially with how hard it is for him to try and heal from trauma when everyone knows about it, and how it was also revealed to the class in confession game.
Even with how Ojima also tries to repress the reality of him being mentally ill could be a factor. As after his breakdown in chapter 2 when Hiroaki suggested that he was having an anxiety attack he immediately got super defensive and proclaimed that he doesn’t even have anxiety. And when Hiroaki said that you don’t need to have anxiety to have an anxiety attack he started getting worried that he was trying to get into his head. Then in Purple he as well was trying to shut down any ideas of him being codependent with Hiroaki and once again denying the anxiety attack. This makes me think about his relation with therapy as well especially his offical PTSD diagnosis, and as Ojima seems to be ashamed of the idea of him being mentally impaired, that could also impact his views on therapy if he doesn’t want to believe it.
I do feel even though with how much Ojima has dropped out of therapy and keeps everything to himself, the fact that he had the willpower to sign up for therapy 8 times despite how he feels about it shows a ton of resilience from him. Because he knows he needs therapy and is actively trying to make the effort to heal despite how much he keeps backing out says a lot about him and I find it really interesting.
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its so funny to me that fiyero and glinda gets called out by elphaba in the most terrifying way, seeing the real them and not the front they put on, and goes "oh yes, i want her"
#wicked#gelphie#fiyeraba#gliyeraba#and they proceeded to create the funniest and one of the most tragic throuple in history#the terrifying ordeal of being known#they all just want to be acknowledged for the real them
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tərfs/radfəms don't want to think of trans women as Just Some Random People because their whole movement hinges on these concepts of grand conspiracies and premeditated malice perpetrated by anyone with an M instead of an F on their birth certificate. to acknowledge that a trans woman could just be some random jo schmoe minding her own business is to acknowledge that there isn't some grand hivemind personally out to get them.
they NEED to believe there's some immutable, impermeable barrier separating them, the only demographic with real feelings and empathy, from The Enemy, a subhuman horde that is at once dangerous and calculating yet weak and unintelligent (which is of course the quintessential fascist rhetoric).
by their logic, if someone assigned male can only ever be evil, then someone assigned female can only ever be a perfect innocent sweet little victim, and any harm she does to another human is just a byproduct of the harm enacted upon her by someone assigned male; she is only ever a conduit of hate, never the source. she is forever without agency, even in her politics, which are defined as reactionary against men and those she perceives as men.
you literally cannot get more antifeminist than the tərf fantasy of "all men are powerful abusers" because the logical followthrough of that is "all women are weak victims". fuck that noise for real
eeeew, tərfs and radfəms on my posts. leave me alone you creeps, you're fucked in the head for thinking i'd side with a community of hateful embittered strangers over all the wonderful trans friends and relatives in my life. i've had the pleasure of helping transfem friends come out and find confidence in their new identities and welcome them into the fun crazy chaos of femininity, and you want to turn me against them just because of one single coinflip their genome did over two decades ago? the fuck is wrong with you?
#they're clearly lonely and desperate for community and because of that they think i'm going to break bread with them just bc i'm a dyke#can't we focus our energy on like. class consciousness. instead of picking on 1% of the population for imagined threats#okay stepping down from the soapbox i just gotta periodically prune the five digit follower count of the reactionary zealots#shebbz shoutz
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