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coquettepascal · 3 days

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Suds n’ Trunks

Summary: Joel ordered a car washing service…bikini car washing service.

Tags: 18+, No Outbreak!Joel, Cheeky Flirty!Reader, Porn with a sprinkle of plot, Daddy kink, Choking, Joel is a menace and so is reader, Oral (m & f receiving), Unprotected P-in-V, Consensual Creampie

—

The sun shone on the perfect suburban streets of Austin, Texas. So hot you could fry an egg if you wanted to. You rolled your windows down, driving down a neighborhood you’re not familiar with, and pulled up at the house that sits in the cul de sac, a dirty- no filthy ford pickup truck parked on its driveway.

This must be the place.

A sigh fell from your lips as you hopped off your car with your supplies in hand; a bucket, sponge, microfiber rag, and various soaps for different parts of the car. The heat was even worse after you’ve left the comfort of your air conditioned car, but the thought of being out of your clothes and soaked in suds and the cool water excites you.

Once you’ve discovered this lucrative market of bored, horny, lonely middle aged suburban guys— eager to see a show, and maybe get their car cleaned as well, you start to do this gig every summer. The money is good plus these guys tip generously.

Your service by its core is nothing but a mobile car wash, but the carwash is being done by you, clad in a skimpy bikini. c’mon, who wouldn’t want that right?

When you scored your first customer, you became a spectacle for the neighborhood. Your client shamelessly pulls out a lawn chair, having a grand ol’ time “enjoying the sun” as you wash their car. Neighbors walking out their houses mowing their already perfectly trimmed lawn, walking their dogs, cats, and some approached your client for a neighborly talk they probably haven’t had in months.

You’ve gotten the whole neighborhood out of their house basically, then your client list doubles with those people coming over to you and asking to do theirs next. Some cars don't even need washing, but you do them anyway with a smile knowing you’re gonna eat good that night.

Ever since then you decided to do this gig every summer, cheekily naming your little business “Suds ‘n Trunks”.

—

You ring the doorbell of the Miller’s residence and step back. You could hear a soft grumble from behind the door before it opened and reveal a scruffy, middle aged, handsome man. your eyes scans him quickly, his hair tousled, his shoulders broad, big arms, big hands, Jesus Christ you want to just-

“Can I help you?”

His gruff, deep, Texan drawl snaps you out of your trance and brings you back to reality.

“Uhm yes, Mr. Miller? you called for a car wash?” You asked him with a sweet voice you come to learn that older men love, it always works like a charm, making them tip you a fat wad of cash— these men just craved attention from a pretty girl, and you’re happy to give that to them.

“Oh..yeah you could uh, it's that one right there,” he motioned to the dirty pickup truck. You give him a smile and nodded, “okay, i’ll go on and get started then.” Joel nodded and shut the door immediately.

—

A red Ford bronco sat on his driveway, absolutely covered in filth. You usually don't deal with this much grime, dust, and mud. Granted, most cars you’ve washed barely need a wash, the clients just wanted to see you wet and covered in suds, which you couldn’t really blame them.

You took a breath and started to step out of your tanktop and shorts, revealing the red matching bikini you’re wearing underneath and started to go to work.

—

Joel was exhausted after doing several construction projects back to back yesterday, from dawn to the ungodly hours of the night resulting in his beloved truck — Shirley— looking like it had been dragged in the mud…literally.

Joel likes to take care of his things, Shirley is no exception. His free time on the weekends is often spent on his truck in the garage, polishing her to perfection. But after all the hard work he did, just the thought of washing her made his back groan in protest.

So he got the number of your services from his coworkers after they commented on the state of Shirley, a smirk planted on their faces and they kept snickering which Joel found odd, but he was too fed up and exhausted to think twice on booking your services.

Joel grunts as he settles on his couch, his cold bottle of beer in one hand, the tv remote on the other. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table, and turned on the TV.

It's finally his time for him to take his hard-earned relaxation time. which should be easy, but he could hear the annoying sputtering sound of his neighbor’s lawnmower.

That thing needs more oil. He thought to himself as he took a sip of his beer.

Then another sound of a lawnmower sounded from the other side of the house, even more annoying than the first.

What the fuck? Why are they all mowin’ the lawn at the same time? at this hour? he thought.

Then comes the obnoxious yapping of Mr. Thompson's french bulldog and chihuahua.

What the hell is goin’ on? it's a whole ruckus out there.

He groaned, frustrated that the whole neighborhood seems to be against his well deserved relaxing time. He grumbled as he strides towards his window, drawing up the blinds to see what the fuck is going on out there.

His eyes nearly bulged out, blush quickly crept up his neck to his cheeks, and his cock twitching in his pants instantly at the sight.

You, bend over in the hood of his car, wet, covered in suds, in a fucking bikini. He tried to look away, he really did, but the way your hips sways, your ass jiggled, as you scrubbed hard with the caked on mud on his truck— it was hypnotizing.

—

“What the hell are ya doin’?”

The sight of Joel's furrowed brow as he stared at you in your revealing outfit was a mix of disapproval and desire. Your sweet smile remained as you answered his question, "Mr. Miller! I'm just washing your car."

His gaze roamed over you, making you shiver with anticipation. "In that?" He grunted, clearly torn between his disgust and arousal. "Well, yes… It's part of my service."

The man stood silent for a moment, his confusion palpable. "Part of your service?"

"Uhm, yeah... It's a bikini car wash service… You didn't know?" you tilted your head, confused.

Joel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "How the hell was I supposed to know?"

"The name is Suds 'n' Trunks," you reminded him softly.

"I know what it's called!" he huffed, clearly frustrated.

Unsure of how to proceed, you hesitated. "So, uhm, you want me to just dress up and go or—"

"No, finish your job," he grumbled, still irritated. Your eyes trailed down to the growing tent in his jeans, confirming the source of his conflicting emotions.

You hid your smirk and purred, "Yes, sir," before returning to your task. The knowledge that you had such a potent effect on him only fueled your desire to please him.

—

Your back is even more curved now, ass sticking up more than they should as you washed the side of his truck, knowing Joel is looking– watching you like a hawk while he sits on the porch, a beer in his hand and a cigarette on the other. you turned your head over your shoulder just to give him a small smile, which he returned with his jaw clenching.

You bask under his gaze, your body tingling, giving him the best show you’ve ever given. you squatted as you started to clean the lower part of the truck, your ass jiggle with every hard scrub you give.

The tension between the two of you is palpable, leaving Joel frustrated, he knows damn well you’re taunting him. He’s torn between wanting to yell at you for acting so unprofessional and embarrassing him in front of the watchful eyes of his nosy neighbors— or fucking you against the truck for payback.

He sits there watching you, contemplating on what to do. You gave him another cheeky look over your shoulder and that was it, his last resolve snapped, fuck it.

—

“Careful with her,” he said lowly as he approached you.

You turned your head, batting your eyelashes, “Hm?”

“You’re goin’ too hard on her, just painted that part,” he murmured as he got closer, just right behind you.

“But the mud is really caked on this part,” you told him and went back to scrubbing.

“A-ah, hey,” he tutted and leaned down behind you, his large palms sitting atop of yours “Gentle…easy does it,” he murmured, his hot breath fanned against your ear.

You had to bite your lip to suppress a moan as you felt his hardness pressed against your thigh. Your hand following his movements, “There we go…there we go, good girl,” he murmured and you swore every part of your body shivered.

“This is gonna take longer to finish, sir,” you murmured, your voice a mere whisper as you turned your head to him.

“I know…but you’re gonna get a bigger reward out of it, how’s that sound hm?” he muttered to your ear before abruptly pulling away from you and sitting back on the porch.

your breath hitched, heartbeat skipping, and the heat between your legs grew hotter. You turned your head towards him to see him sitting back at his porch, his head nodded at you to continue your work, a small smirk curved his lips.

—

You’re halfway done with the truck when his neighbor starts to approach you, a middle aged guy you came to learn named Michael. He’s been clearly hitting on you, and trying to get a closer look on what you’re doing. which usually doesn’t bother you but you could practically feel Joel's watchful eyes boring into your back.

“So you do this for a living?” he asked as he stood a few feet away from you, “It's just a summer gig i do,” you replied with a small smile, keeping the response light.

"Sweet, it's nice seeing a young, beautiful, hard-working woman," he chuckled. Your jaw tensed for a moment before you forced a tight-lipped smile.

"Can you do my car next? It's pretty dirty too," he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. You felt a flush of annoyance, but your eyes met Joel's, who glared disapprovingly from his porch.

"Well, uh..." you hesitated, glancing back at Joel. He shook his head, a clear indication that he didn't want you to entertain Michael's advances. "Sorry, Michael. I'm booked for today... I gotta go somewhere after this."

Michael sighed, "Aw, just my luck," he lamented. "I'll ask Joel for your number, huh? I'll book you as soon as you're free." You chuckled, "Yeah, you go do that."

Michael made his way over to Joel, asking for your number. Joel nodded, but with a grunt, he gave Michael the wrong number. A smirk played on your lips as you returned to your work.

—

After what feels like forever you finally finished with the last drag of your microfiber rag. You let out a sigh and turned around to Joel sauntering his way. “All done Mr. Miller,” you purred.

He looked at his truck, all clean and shiny. A satisfied smirk graced his face, “you did a good job” he praised. “Good enough to get that reward?” you murmured with your head tilted innocently. Joel let out a small chuckle “Mmhm... come on inside and i’ll get it sorted for you, pretty girl.”

Your eyes gleamed with lust and you bit your lip in anticipation as he led you inside his house. The wind hits your wet body, the coolness leaves your nipples even harder, your body tingling with need.

By the time the two of you were inside, Joel’s body was taut, like a spring ready to burst. He couldn’t hold it in anymore, his large palms grab a hold of your wet body and pinned you against his door, you let out a surprised whimper at his sudden actions.

“Been a good girl for me huh? Takin’ care of my truck,” he murmured as he leaned down and his lips grazed your jaw to the skin under your ear. “Been naughty too haven’t you? Tauntin’ me with this sweet ass of yours,” he grabbed your ass and gave it a hard squeeze making you let out a small moan, he pulled you closer, his hard cock pressing against your wet bikini bottoms.

You couldn’t help but grind your hips against him, needy and desperate for friction, eliciting a small moan from you and a groan from him. “What do you have to say about that huh? Pretty girl?,” he muttered and nibbled on your earlobe, “I’m sorry sir” you panted softly.

“Yeah? Doesn’t seem to be that sorry,” he chuckled lowly, his voice gravely and his accent was thicker than before “Think I would have to punish you… you thought it was funny huh? Makin’ me hard as a rock with those fucking neighbors watchin’?” he growled to your ear and slapped your ass, you whimpered and jolted forwards.

“I’m sorry sir..please don't punish me,” you whined and bit your lip. “You’re sorry huh? Go on, pretty thing, show me how sorry you are,” he murmured. You didn't need to be told twice, you fell to your knees, eyes wide as you looked up to his face, hands deftly undoing his belt and jeans and pulling it down along with his boxers.

Your mouth salivated just from the sight of his cock springing free, thick, veiny, and throbbing, just how you thought it would be. He gave you a nod to tell you ‘go on’, you leaned down and darted your tongue out, tasting the heady taste of his precum. He groaned and tossed his head back, hand tangling in your hair and pulled you in, you hummed and finally wrapped your mouth around his girth with a small whimper. Your jaw straining to accommodate him, tongue moving with practiced ease as you sink down deeper, taking in more of him.

“Fuck yeah..good fuckin’ girl…thats it,” he muttered and started to guide your head the way he wanted, you thrive with his praises, taking in him as deep as you could. Gagging and sputtering here and there but you didn't stop at all in search of his approval and satisfaction, you didn’t want to stop. The room was filled with the sound of his grunts and heavy breaths, along with the obscene sounds from you and your muffled whimpers.

Joel nearly came when he saw you starting to snake your hand between your legs, “Naughty fuckin’ slut, touchin’ yourself huh?” he groaned and started to thrust into your mouth, holding your head in place. “You want me to take care of that? Hm?” he growled and you whined as an answer. Suddenly he abruptly pulled you away from his cock, “get on the fuckin’ couch,” he muttered, you scrambled off the floor and quickly gotten on the nearby couch, “on your hands and knees, sweetheart,” he commanded and you did as he said, bending over, facing the backrest of the couch.

He stood behind you and pushed you legs wider, your head craned over your shoulder to look at him with your needy expression, bottom lip between your teeth. He gripped your chin and he leaned down, finally crashing his lips to yours. He was rough, didn’t even hesitate on pushing his tongue into your mouth, tongue dominating yours, making you whine and push your hips back, desperate, begging for him.

His kiss left you panting as he pulled away, he trailed kisses down your back, biting on the knot that holds your bikini top together and pulling on it and letting it unravel, his hand started to grope your tits, playing, pinching, pulling on your sensitive nipples. “Mr. Miller,” you panted “please..”

“Use your word, Baby, what do you need?” he murmured to the crook of your neck. You whimpered and kept moving your hips, “anything- please- your finger, mouth- anything, i need you,” you rambled desperately. Joel chuckled darkly, his large fingers playing with the knots of your bikini bottoms, “needy little thing,” he murmured before pulling on the knots and unraveling the red wet fabric, making it fall to the couch.

Joel practically growled at the sight before him, you, bent over with your ass high in the air, naked, your pussy dripping and ready for him. “Look at you..” he murmured and leaned down, groping your ass and pushing it apart to reveal more of you. “Mmh..” he grumbles before leaning down and placing a broad lick on your cunt. “Oh- god- Mr- mmhngh! Mr. Miller” you whined and pushed your hips more to his face. Joel groaned and started to really eat you out, his large palms splayed on your ass, face completely buried in your drooling pussy. “It's Joel, sweetheart,” he chuckled as he pulled away from your cunt for a second, “I wanna hear ya moan my name.”

“Joel..” you breathed, getting used to the feel of his name on your lips. Joel started to flick his tongue rapidly on your clit, making your eyes roll back and moan out his name, “fuck- ahh! Joel!” He grunted in response, “yeah that’s it, moan my name…mmhhh good fuckin’ girl.”

You were falling apart already at the hands of his tongue, moving on your pussy with practiced ease. Joel relished the sounds of your moans, and the sweet and tangy taste of your cunt. He groaned and started to push his thick fingers to your entrance, “Joel! Ahnghh! F-fuck! mmhngh!!” you cried out, he grunted and pulled away from your pussy for a second, “That’s it baby, you’re gonna cum hm? Gonna be a good girl an cum on my face?” he muttered and curled his digits to hit that heavenly spot within you, you whined in response, barely able to come up with words but nodded with your eyes closed in pleasure. “Good girl, c’mon, come on my face” he panted and started double his efforts, his tongue flicking on your sensitive clit, slurping all your juices, whilst his fingers kept hitting that sweet spot over and over again.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, you back arched and your eyes rolled back, you swore you saw stars. His name kept falling from your lips in between moans and whimpers which he responded with praises.

“good girl, that’s it”

“you’re so pretty when you cum for me”

“tastes so good baby, there you go..”

He peppered kisses across your shoulders and back as he waited for you to come down from your high. “joel..” you panted and kept pushing your hips back to grind against his throbbing cock, eliciting a groan from his lips, “yeah? you want my cock, pretty girl?” he muttered and rutted his hips against you, his cock sliding against your cunt. “yes- please joel- please-“ you let out a loud moan when he suddenly pushed his cock into your core.

“fuuuck” he groaned as he pushed himself in “fuck- shit, baby you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he panted and gripped your hips tight. “joel! oh- f-fuck hhngh!” you whimpered and gripped the back of the couch. Joel pulled back until his cock is almost fully slipped back, you whined at the loss of his stretch, then he slammed back in. “Fuck! Oh- f-fuuckk! Joeel!!” you cried out, “Yeah baby that’s it- shit- yeah take it baby, take it” he growled to your ear and wrapped your hair on his hand and yanked it back. Your head tilted back at the force and he crashed his lips to yours again, swalowing all your moans and whimpers as he fucked you with a relentless pace.

“J-joel” you warned between pants, “Yeah i know baby- fuck- yeah i can feel it,” he groaned and panted “c’mon baby give it to me, cum on my cock, c’mon” he murmured and went faster. The sound of his skin smacking against yours gets louder and louder, the couch groaned and creaked in protest. You could barely utter any coherent words at this point, just slurring his name and how good it feels between moans and pants.

Your back arched and trembles as you cry out his name like a prayer. Joel slowed down for a second, letting you ride out the orgasm, “there you go…hmm there you go” he muttered soothingly, his hips rocking deliberately, slowly. “You can take more, sweetheart?” he murmured to your ear, you couldn’t help but nod. ”Good girl,” he praised to your ear and kissed your jaw before his arm wrapped around your waist, the other around your chest and pulled you up until his chest pressed against your back. He resumed his hard relentless thrusts, his hand on your chest groping and playing with your hard nipples. you felt like floating at this point, just taking everything he gave you like a good girl.

“Who’s pussy is this?” He growled to your ear, you could barely talk just letting out sounds of pleasure, he spanked your ass hard and you gasped out a moan, “Yours! Hahngh! All yours!” you whined, Joel gripped your neck and pulled you closer to him “Who?” he demanded, you panted and choked out, “Yours daddy!” bingo.

He growled and bent you over again, his hand still tight on your neck, choking you just right. “Yeah that’s right, such a good girl for daddy,” he muttered and pounded into you. You kept choking out moans, calling him daddy over and over. He shifted his position, propping one leg on the couch to get a different angle, deeper, and it allowed him to reach that spot within you. “Oh my g- aahhngh!! daddy!! right there, oh fuck- fuck me right there!!” you cried out. He grunted and let out a dark chuckle, “there sweetheart?” he taunted as he thrusted extra hard aiming at that spot again. “yes!! yes- yes please- please i- daddy please” you rambled, begging for him, his cock has reduced you to nothing but desperate and needy. “well since you asked so nicely,” he said coyly before hitting that spot over and over again.

You felt you’re gonna shatter yet again in any second, a ticking time bomb set on your lower belly. “D-daddy i’m- hah- i’m-” you could barely finish your choked out sentence. “Yeah? Gonna cum again for daddy?” he panted to your ear, all you could do was nodded and give a whimper of confirmation. He chuckled darkly and his hand snaked down to rub your clit with fervor while his hips kept pounding to your ass, “Go on then, come for me, come for daddy,” he muttered to your ear.

Your vision blurred and you saw white. It feels like you’re barely conscious, your third orgasm hits you even harder than the last. You didn’t noticed whats happening until joel groaned, “Fuck yeah you’re squirtin’ on me baby- good girl- hhnngh good fuckin’ girl.” Your thighs trembled, wet with your release, red from his thrusts.

He finally let go of your neck and you gasped out for much needed air, his thrusts started to stutter. “Where do you want it?” he panted to your ear, “Inside, inside daddy, please,” you begged and started to move your hips to meet his. Joel couldn’t hold back any longer, 1, 2, 3 hard thrusts later and he came completely undone inside you. “Fuuuckk!! Fuck yeah- oh shit baby” he moaned, “fuck! makin’ me cum so much, pretty girl…oh yeah good fuckin’ girl,” he panted to your ear.

After his hips stilled, he pulled out of you, making you whine and clench around nothing, pushing his hot sticky seed out of you.

He chuckled and whispered to your ear, “look at you…all messy n’ dirty,” he cooed. “You cleaned my truck now it's time for me to clean you,” he murmured before peppering kisses down your spine yet again.

—

author’s note: THIS WAS MY FIRST FIC EVER AHSHSHEH so forgive me if its shitty or the grammar is horrible bc english is my 2nd language:3 ALSO i have never written smut before heheheh, your feedback is greatly appreciated!! thank you for reading this horny piece of literature!!

#ellie fic rec box #Wow WOW YUM. FOR YOUR FIRST FIC THIS IS CRAZZYYYYYY?!#this deserves sm love. 🫶🫶

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coquettepascal · 7 days

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Siblings actually feeling like siblings is my absolute favourite thing in shows:

siblings sharing one braincell:

The same crooked smile:

And in the first 10 minutes or so you already know the dynamic between these two, Joel knows Tommy will tease him endlessly about the t-shirt being inside out, being an older sibling, when making a mistake I look at my younger siblings first because I just know they are gonna be insufferable about it. But Tommy respects the hell out of Joel, he immidiately puts out the cigarette when told so, this is responsible older brother Joel, who will bail him out of jail...

He's also the person he looks to, to make the decisions que 'What are we doin', Joel':

also the fact that they got two guys with patchy beards is dedication to me, they wanted these two to be genetically brothers:

These two walking in sync never fails to get me, they are walking the exact same way:

Also haven't seen each other in quite a while and doesn't miss the chance to tease little brother:

all I have to say is Gabriel and Pedro were dedicated to show us they were brothers and I love them for that.

#joel miller #tommy miller #i love them both

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coquettepascal · 14 days

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????????? WHAT IS HIS DEAL

#thank u coco #☹️☹️ he looks so nice #pedro pascal #ellie talking tag

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coquettepascal · 14 days

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texas sweet sequel came to me in a dream (while I zoned out in class)

#FINALLY. IVE BEEN WAITING !???#blehh ehe :3 #ellie talking tag

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coquettepascal · 16 days

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!!? what. hello? hi everyone? thank you for following me!!??

i am so shocked Hi i have never had an audience like this 👋👋👋👋

#do i do something for this idk #thank you all so much?? this is wild.#ellie talking tag #texas sweet sequel soon 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ shhhhh

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coquettepascal · 16 days

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Sanctuary update — new works and authors added ⋆｡°✩

random fics of the day ⋆｡˚

Consuming internet content is your own responsibility. Most of it is 18+, also mind authors’ notes.

by @milla-frenchy — The nap , The couch , Push it ; The date — Frankie 'Catfish' Morales, Joel Miller

by @clawdeewritesfanfic — Early Sunsets Over Jebble — Din Djarin; Control — Dave York; Daddy's Girl — Tim Rockford; My Kink Is Karma — Jack Daniels / Whiskey; A Little Broken — Max Phillips

by @aurorawritestoescape — IN HIS ARMS , SWEET CHERRY , FILL ME UP — Joel Miller

by @greenwitchfromthewoods — the anniversary. — Joel Miller

by @frenchiereading — Reina — Javier Peña

by @whocaresstillthelouvre — Fifteen Weeks — Din Djarin; Dispose Of Me — Javier Peña; Golden Girl — Dieter Bravo

by @thetriumphantpanda — new religion — Joel Miller

by @coquettepascal — texas sweet — Joel Miller

by @guiltyasdave — modern!Oberyn — Oberyn Martell; gold rush — Dave York, Oberyn Martell

by @yopossum — Sweet Dee — Dieter Bravo

by @chaotic-mystery — PROFESSOR’S PET — Joel Miller

by @ozarkthedog — heavenly bound — Joel Miller

by @randofantfic — Sharing is Caring — Joel Miller

by @for-a-longlongtime — Guilty Pleasure — Joel Miller

by @arcanefox207 — See How She Rides — Joel Miller

*smooches*

#!#thank you for the tag :]

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coquettepascal · 17 days

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BLUSHING KICKING MY FEET GIGGLING ‼️‼️‼️ THANK YOU KYLEE 🫶🫶i am glad u enjoyed :3

purpose on earth

summary: joel loves to take, you love to give.

tags: 18+, smut, angst(ish), jackson era!joel, cold!joel, grumpy!joel, innocent!reader, dom!joel, implied age gap (reader doesn't remember pre-outbreak), corruption kink, joel takes your undies, humiliation, oral sex (m!receiving), allusion to thigh riding, a feeling of helpless/hopeless-ness permeates this fic, reader is pretty pathetic, use of "sweet girl", objectification of reader, unrequited obsession, this fic isn't necessarily sexy, just mildly sad.

a/n: i literally wrote this like an hour ago while i was supposed to be outlining my next project, but @hellishjoel told me to listen to my creative demons... so now this is being posted.

(1.1k, just a baby)

Nothing in this world has ever, or will ever, belong to you. Faint memories glaze your mind sometimes, when you lay down to rest. Not your own memories, but things you’ve read in books and seen in abandoned family photo albums. White wedding dresses, cars that drive, Sunday night family dinner. An American lifestyle that was sucked away with the cordyceps, something only they could clear out. The bombs the government used, the ones you can’t remember anymore, they never wiped mother earth clean the way she has done for herself.

She’s infected, and not yours. Nothing outside of Jackson’s walls belongs to your human hands.

You’ve never known ownership. The clothes you wear belonged to people before you, the ground you walk on cannot be sold. Maybe in another life this would feel fulfilling, but something in you wants to know what it is to own, or even fit in. Your skin, flushed and healthy, skin full of life and blood and organs. A heart that thumps in a world of disease, disorder, death. What a weird purity you hold, something you want to ruin.

A person like you isn’t meant to own anything here. It feels like you have to belong, if you wish to take.

He will do it for you.

Joel knows greed, remembers the world before. His hands have taken food, land, lives, anything you can imagine. It isn’t something you realistically think about, more infatuated with how he has the ability to do all these things. Not that you hadn’t committed your own sins, but to defend yourself isn’t wrong, at least that’s what he says. Something in Joel smolders the way only a primal fire can, he is from a world whose memory of a flame will extinguish soon.

He doesn’t help with any of your wants, your need to own or belong. But Joel shows you what it is to take.

You don’t understand the fascination he has with you. The memory of the night he first led you back to his house is blurry, a fleeting moment in comparison to what has happened since. There was conversation of music, of you having a tape you wish you could play.

His hands were slow when they slid your underwear down your legs, you hoped he wasn’t looking. Nothing about you felt sexy or womanly, you felt dwarfed when he was so close. Again, you wished you could belong, so maybe you could hide. There was a stain in the gusset and you remember how he pulled the garment off your ankles when it dangled there.

“Lemme see,” he had demanded, “lemme see what I did t’you.”

Joel had smeared his thumb through the sticky wet mark, huffing in surprise. He knew it was for him, knew there was nothing else that could have made you do that. Humiliated, you had tried to yank back your underwear, but he refused.

“S’mine now,” he laughed, cheeks rosy.

That was the first time Joel took from you.

Now you seek him, the ache for belonging in the world twisting to a yearning for him to take from you. If you could not belong to this world, if you could not fit, at least you could fulfill him. Joel doesn’t like it when you seek him out too often, hates when others notice it. You’re not his, never his, just a moment of gratification for his consuming greed.

Once, you waited in the early morning at the stables for him. Crouched near the barn door, you waited and watched the dewy grass grow. The crunch of his boots, the yawn he let out as he passed by you, it was enough. He said nothing to you, took off on his horse with some other man trailing behind him.

“Joel’s so responsible,” you thought to yourself, “he’ll need me later I bet.”

Of course, he did. You relished in the small victory of him stealing from you again. Purity leaks from you in the form of drool on your chin, when he pulls you off his cock. Joel’s thumbs push the spit back in your mouth and you suck it down willingly. Praise rumbles off his tongue and into your ears, a southern rhythm you find sanctuary in. Pushing his dick back into your mouth is all pleasure to him, but it’s a taste of greed for you.

“Sweet girl, that’s a good mouth f’me, ain’t it?” Joel asks, head tilting back.

He never takes his pants off, but he strips you naked. His eyes arguably take more than his hands ever will. The bob of his Adam's apple hypnotizes your eyes as you garble a response to his question. Scarcely do you make sense around Joel, or even speak. You don’t think you can remember the last time you held a proper conversation with him, he usually just waits for you to come around.

It all starts the same, standing on his porch and waiting until he opens the door.

“Missin’ me?” He asks every time.

Joel doesn’t miss you, he doesn’t need you. He just likes how much you give. But you miss him, as soon as he pushes you out into the cold again you miss him. His greed is your purpose.

And so with your purpose, you push yourself down to the base of him. The waterline of your eyes is welling up fast, distorting your vision of him. You blink up at him like he’ll look down, like you’re more than a mouth. You aren’t, not to him, but you get to admire him like this. The puff of his chest, the swell of his throat, and his hands when they come to rip you off him.

He never pulls your hair, just grasps your face in his worn-down palms and pushes you away before jerking himself onto your naked body.

“S’nice, you’re so nice t’me,” he grumbles.

Under the yellow light in Joel’s living room, you feel useful. You’re doing more than surviving in this world. You have a purpose, even if he seldom needs you. He uses the sleeves of his flannel to wipe away the tears that slide down your cheeks, still mumbling about how sweet you are. Naked, smattered in him, you smile. Glittery eyes meet his and he snorts.

“You were missin’ me, huh?” He teases.

Joel rubs his thumb across your cheek again, the closest thing you’ll get to his lips on you. In his post-orgasmic haze, he almost looks fond.

“He almost likes me,” your mind whispers, your stomach fluttering, “it’s almost like I belong.”

And once you’ve nodded in response to his question, messy mouthed and gazing at him, your purpose, he taps his thigh. Blood rushes to your head as you stand, crawling onto him.

In your obedient mind, you define your efforts for Joel as a purpose, but you think you can taste a hint of belonging each time he spreads your legs.

#using this as my morning rb #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller #joel miller x reader angst #pedro pascal #tlou

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coquettepascal · 18 days

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LORD. GOD BLESS COWBOYS.

wild like the west

3.3k / pairing: cowboy!joel miller x cowgirl!reader

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summary: joel and his cowgirl warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), implied but unspecified age gap, joel is technically reader's boss (so power dynamic stuff), swearing, dirty talk, pet names (baby girl, brat, etc.), unprotected p in v, pussy pronouns, asphyxiation kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, clean up on aisle reader's stomach, reader is described having hair but otherwise (I believe) reader is a blank slate, no use of y/n, barely edited A/N: I unfortunately have not stopped thinking about a game joel miller x yellowstone crossover, and I feel like he would like this to be his long, happy life. I also haven't written for joel since may which feels like a sin! sorry baby!

It doesn’t matter how many ass bruises you get, or the pain of repeated thrashes to your knees from getting bucked off; this unruly horse will bend its spirit to your will.

Half the job of purchasing new horses for the Miller Ridge Ranch is breaking them in like a pair of new shoes.

Any cowboy, or for you, cowgirl, knows that a horse can sense your personality and fear from a mile away. If you sprout fear, it won’t trust you to be the guide on its back. It’s a mutual thing to trust one another. It’s the trust Joel thrust upon you after loyally working at the ranch for a handful of years. Sure, you were young, but you had a good head on your shoulders.

He perches his cowboy boot on the low fence rail, teeth gnawing at a toothpick as he watches you with careful eyes. The morning dew settles over the long grass and tall trees, untouched by man, fostered by nature. With the sun clawing at the horizon, the land turns from a pale blue to a beaming orange glow. It’s beautiful here, peaceful. You imagine this is the life that Joel always wanted, craved. He’s not from around here, he’s got too much Southern twang to be from these northern Montana woods.

Life guided him up here and he never turned back.

You can feel the horse grow agitated under your haunches, whinnying with anxiety as it takes a few rough steps backward in the ground-up dirt.

“S’okay, boy, take it easy, easy,” you coo in a gentle voice that lets the horse breathe through its panic. You grip the colt’s mane at the very base of his neck, right by the horn of your saddle, gently scratching that sweet spot that seems to bring him some tranquility.

You’re the only one who seems to calm these beautiful boys.

“You got a habit of gettin’ in’ta trouble before it even knows to start lookin’ for ya.” Joel’s southern drawl rumbles deep from his chest, stepping into the training ring and crooking his first two fingers in your direction.

“I got it, Joel,” you say insistently, guiding the horse by a little squeeze of your boots to its belly in Joel’s direction.

“Know ya do.” Joel stops at the horse’s chest and pats its neck, large and calloused hand stroking down its coarse mane as he stares up at you, squinting from the morning sunlight.

His eyes are starkly brilliant in this light, typically a dark brown, now a glowy amber under the brim of his black cowboy hat. “You know that part of learnin’ how to be a cowboy is lettin’ them break in their own horse. Hop down.”

A sigh leaves your parted lips as you unhook one boot from the stirrups and throw yourself off. Taking the reigns, you walk with Joel back to the main fence.

“You’re too nice to ‘em. I hired you to be a bit more…” He pauses indefinitely, tilting his head.

“Ruthless. I know.” Your eyes connect, both hardened after years of this long life. One day of being a cowboy felt like a year at any other job.

The plan was plain and simple, a route you’d taken a hundred times with a crew that changed on and off for the past couple of years. The cattle were in need of fresh resources, lush grass to graze on, and streams of pristine crystal water. Up through the valley they’d go.

The cowboys and cowgirls were gathered on their horses, Joel sat atop his beautiful black mare, eyes piercing his crew even behind his tinted sunglasses. Any season besides summer in this state demanded thick, warm work wear. Joel adorned a chocolate brown Carhartt and thick denim jeans under old, worn-out brown chaps.

“I want Wyatt and Jack to take front, Bo and Sadie, swing, Jess and June on the flank, Tucker and Sammy on the drag. Wear your bandanas, it’s gonna get dusty back there,” your eyes flick up to a string of confused faces, “any questions?”

“Why do we have to go through the valley? We’d have to push hundreds of cows through open water,” Bo mutters, disdain for a woman making all these choices for him, perhaps.

“Yeah, n’I can’t swim. Never learned.” Another pipes in.

“Then you’re a goddamn idiot,” old man Wyatt gurgles up a chuckle. Wyatt has been a cowboy longer than you have been alive. He raised you up to be tough with a streak of kindness that could never be washed away. He gives you a tight nod of reassurance as you sigh weakly.

All this tomfoolery seems to be a bit much for Joel’s taste. “She’s takin’ questions about the plan, not your ‘pinions on it. I tell her what to do, she tells ya’ll what to do. You question her, you question me. So do as she says, or you answer to me.”

Joel’s always had a tight hand on the crew. He intimidates them. He is their boss, after all. They have a problem with you or this ranch or anyone else, they answer to him. Joel takes off his sunglasses and narrows his eyes on Bo, the newest cowboy with a pretty big mouth on him who bucks just as bad as your new colts. And his dead eyes are set on you.

The rest of the crew sets off towards the direction of the cattle herd, everyone except Bo.

Your head jerks upward in his direction, your own eyes narrowed. “You wanna say somethin’?” You ride alongside Bo, who seems to be wrestling with his stupid thoughts. But before he gets a chance to say anything, Joel intervenes.

“Got a fight in you? It starts an’ ends with me.”

Bo looks between both of you, simply scoffing before he backs his horse off and trots along towards the crew.

The view from the top of the valley is beautiful, all yellow and golden, with a pale blue sky and tall trees that harbor the secrets of the forest. Joel used to tell you it would whisper to him, warn him. Your chestnut-colored horse stands tall next to Joel’s, and both of you are overseeing the herd and the crew working together.

“Not as bad as I thought this was gonna be,” Joel mutters, turning his head in your direction. You’re unrecognizably quiet. He’s never known you to be so still.

He watches as your fingers anxiously twirl your horse’s mane. “You undermine me in front of them, and they don’t respect me, Joel.”

So that’s what got you so stiff. He takes in a deep breath of mountain air, crossing his wrists over the horn of his saddle and glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye. Your hair blows in the wind, gentle and flowing. Almost graceful if it wasn’t in this wild west. Your beauty was city beauty, he was surprised you ever found your way out here.

“Bo’s as green as grass. He needs to learn not t’talk to you like that. And if he needs to learn from me, so be it.”

Keeping your lips zipped, your eyes scan the points that use the dogs to guide the herd in the right direction. The swings and flanks work the mid to back-mid to maintain movement, and the drags stationed at the back ensure that any loose stragglers keep up.

Joel rolls his eyes and sighs, reaching his hand across to your horse’s reigns, keeping your horse tucked to his side.

“C’mon, Cowgirl. Spit it out.”

“You go about defendin’ me, it looks like we’re sleepin’ together,” you gripe, “and I don’t need our crew slingin’ the slander that I got my job fuckin’ the boss. I don’t want that shit, Joel.”

Joel shifts his jaw from side to side, silent as he usually is. His tongue muscles over the right words, the words that will settle that ball of uncertainty you have nestled in your gut.

He settles on the truth.

“We are sleepin’ together.”

Shaking your head, you steal your reigns back from Joel and gently nuzzle your boots against the horse’s underbelly. “Well, maybe that should end.”

Joel watches on with a small smirk as your horse is set in motion down the grassy hill. He shouts loud enough for his voice to carry down from the high ground. “You set those boys straight, or I’ll have to keep doin’ it for ya.”

You sling back your middle finger in his direction, both of your horses riding side by side now as you follow the crew through to the valley.

Joel sighs upon entering his large, private cabin, resting his cowboy hat to air out on a hook by the front door. His clothes wreak of his musky sweat, and the shower calls his name. He walks stiffly. Joel’s thick thigh muscles are as strong as iron from riding his horse, and his back cracks each time he inhales.

But he can’t deny that this life was made for him.

Training to be a carpenter, earning pennies on the dollar to work in the hot Texas sun, and for what? Building someone else’s dream property? He had his own dreams.

The ranch was his dream.

He always had a profound appreciation for nature and the outdoors.

Fuck the city, fuck car horns honking obnoxiously, fuck the traffic. He found more fulfillment in listening to the wind flutter through the trees and would much rather hear the moos of his cattle than impatient commuters at six in the morning.

Plus, he’s never felt more free or independent. This was his land, and he made the decisions on how it was run. Hiring the sassy cowgirl from the metropolis just happened to be a nice bonus on lonely nights when there wasn’t much left to his whiskey bottle, and the ride into town was more than twenty minutes for a new one. She sated him all the same, better, even.

Despite years of riding and wrangling, you’re so fucking soft. You have soft eyes, a pretty voice, and satiny thighs. Your lips are plush against his weathered ones, and you don’t seem to mind sitting in his lap with his rougher-than-barbwire hands feeling over your body.

But in turn, you’ve made a little soft spot in his wild like the west heart of his. And he swore he’d never settle down; you seem to have the same intentions.

Things were easy. Nice and easy. Almost routine.

The bunkhouse would be busy with cowboys and cowgirls playing card games, drinking their beers, singing to the music on the radio, and talking nonsense. You’d slip out after dark and wind up upstairs in his bed.

He recalls you saying something about how his bed is more comfy than the ones in the bunkhouse.

“Whatever you say, darlin’.”

Tonight was no different. Fresh from his shower with a towel secured low on his waist, he hums curiously at the sight of you sprawled out across his bed. No more than a minute later, you are tugging it loose from his frame and letting it pool around his ankles.

“Thought you said you were done,” Joel muses with a hint of teasing. You sit up from the bed on your knees and wrap your arms around his broad trap and shoulder muscles.

“I ain’t a quitter,” you mutter against Joel’s mouth, feeling his tongue glide along yours as he explores you freely.

He sheds your clothes, feeling your freshly showered skin and hair under his rough palms. He can’t help but touch you like you’re his, like he owns you. But no man can possess the wind.

You kiss as he slips you under the bed’s cool sheets, drunk on the way you move so pliantly under his guidance. His lips move to the slope of your neck, his greying whiskers scratching your skin before he washes over the irritation with more kisses.

Joel’s hands slip between your legs, cupping your clothed center in one hand. Your eyes light up at the friction, mewling up a moan of his name as he massages over the wet spot growing on your panties.

“She’s already soaked, darlin’. You been thinkin’ ‘bout this?” Joel muses, sitting up properly to peel your shirt off your body, two fingers curling around the hem of your panties and chucking them mindlessly on the floor.

“Joel,” you whisper breathlessly as he’s about to slip down between those pretty legs of yours.

“What?” He asks, damn near annoyed.

“I can’t wait,” you beg breathlessly, his eyes meeting yours. “I-I can’t, I’m beggin’ you, please. It’s been a long day.”

Joel sighs but ultimately nods. It’s not what he wants, but sometimes you both need a quick fix.

Joel’s body parts your legs, a grunt escaping the depth of his throat as he ruts his hips against your own.

“Good idea,” he mutters against your mouth, leaning down and distracting himself with your kisses as he lines his length up and down your soaking center.

You sharply inhale as he enters and the sound is music to his ears. He feels your nails carving into his back muscles as he sinks himself in deeper deeper deeper, both of you panting with eagerness by the time his hips are flush with your own, lost in where you end and he begins.

You let out a string of moans as he reels himself back, only to return to your depths with a snap of his hips that releases a shrill whine of his name from your throat. His forearms are buried in the fluff of the pillows on either side of your head, forehead against forehead, his hips grinding against you now.

The friction is enough to make your head spin. You can feel the coarse hair of his happy trail tickling your already anxious pearl.

“Fuck,” you huff out, letting your hands slip down his back, knowing that if you want him to pick up the pace, you’ll have to ignite his fire. In one quick movement, your hands drag themselves up Joel’s back, your nails creating etched lines that raise red once you finish at the very tops of his shoulders.

Joel releases a long, low groan in response as his eyes snap open to meet yours. The sting of pain creates heat along Joel’s spine. His jaw is wound tight as he brings his large hand to wrap around your pretty throat, thumb on your chin to force you into staring straight at him.

“Such a goddamn brat,” he growls, adding pressure to the column of your throat as he begins to pound into you harder and harder with each thrust of his hips. You cry out his name, a cacophony of your panting moans and your slick squelching against his hips fill your ears. The ecstasy of losing just a smidge of air is enough to make your eyes roll into the back of your head.

He’s obsessed with the way your eyes gloss over in lust, your body jerking up the bed with each powerful thrust he gives you. Your mouth hangs open, gasping for air that’s just out of your reach.

“You take it, baby girl, you keep takin’ it. She’s so fuckin’- goddamit, so fuckin’ good for me,” he pants, feeling the warm air dissolve against your skin as Joel begins to swell fatter inside of you.

Perfectly slick and warm, he loses himself in your pussy. You squeeze and choke him, his orgasm only building as you whimper how good he feels.

“Holy fuck, Joel, please please please, right there, ohmygod you’re gonna make me-” you gasp, your back arching off the mattress as you grip onto his forearm that’s still holding your delicate throat, your other hand gripping the hair at the nape of his neck. He knows to squeeze a little harder as you fall apart, the euphoria of the combination sending you over the edge.

Joel’s holding on for dear life, always focused on putting you first, always trying to prove your jokes of him being an old man wrong. But he can’t deny he’s nearly finished twice now, your pretty cunt all nice and warm for him.

What’s wrong with pushing you over the edge a little?

Joel abandons the hold on your throat as you still are witnessing the aftershocks of your orgasm, his two thick fingers circling over your swollen clit.

Joel smirks as your eyes snap open, your jaw dropping wide as you silently scream in pleasure. He nods sadistically, smirking as he overstimulates your already twitchy clit.

“You’re gonna give me another, right here, right now,” Joel grunts, stilling his hips as he’s buried to the hilt inside you, feeling your pussy clench around his cock as your gasps and strangled moans fill the room.

“Fuck, Joel I don’t think I can,” you cry out, bracing the wrist of the hand that’s still working figure-eights around your pearl. Joel watches as your chest rises and falls quickly, nipples at peaks as you continue to clench repeatedly around his cock.

“Know you can, baby, cum on this cock again. You’re a strong cowgirl, ain’t’cha? You been thinkin’ ‘bout this all day, getting this pretty girl drilled by me, know ya have.”

And he’s right. Shamefully so. Denying Joel looks good in and out of his cowboy attire is just nonsense. The way he rides his horse with his thighs snagged tight around its middle, gnawing on his toothpicks to ward off the need to smoke a cigarette or chew; at this point, it’s everything that he does that turns you on.

And maybe that’s why it’s so easy to give him a second one.

Your nails pierce into his skin as your hands grip his biceps, mewling and moaning something wrecked, feeling the warmth gather deep in your belly once more.

“Keep fuckin’ me, I didn’t say to stop,” you pant.

Joel disguises his laughter by meeting your lips with his own, giving you messy kisses that taste better than perfect ones. His hips and fingers work in tandem to force you over the edge. You’re shaking under him, your thigh muscles twitching with excitement, legs wrapping around his middle as he grows closer to his own finish.

Just as he feels like he’s going to give way, he can feel your pussy clenching around his aching cock, his tip brushing so perfectly against that spongy spot that sets your insides alight.

“Fuck,” he grits, ripping himself loose of your perfectly wasted cunt as he yanks over his length. One, two, three more times, and he’s spilling warm spend across your belly. The pretty splatters are like a Jackson Pollock. He stares in awe at how pretty you look getting finished on.

The bed dips as he falls into place beside you. He doesn’t lay idle. He reaches for some tissues from his bedside table, politely wiping away his mess as you stare at him with lustful eyes. You were so fucked out. Sorta cute.

“Quit,” he mutters, avoiding your eyes.

“You ain’t as old as I thought you were.” You whisper, a smirk tugging on the corners of your mouth.

Joel chuckles softly at your familiar tease. He's heard it countless times, but it never ceases to make him roll his eyes and pull you closer to him. He kisses your forehead affectionately, his voice carrying a hint of playful banter.

“You gonna keep remindin' me about my age every chance you get? Don’t stop ya from comin’ back each night.”

You lay your head on his chest and listen to his heart thump.

Joel’s got one arm slung around your shoulders, the other on your thigh that’s draped across his middle. His strong hand works slowly into your tired muscles. You play with the greying curls on his chest, taking note of the dark, nearly black ones still speckled throughout.

“Goodnight, old cowboy.” You say, patting his chest, hearing his slow laughter rumble from his chest.

“G’night, pain in my ass.”

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#also the tag 'clean up on aisle readers stomach' is so good #ellie fic rec box #GRAH this was so yummy 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

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coquettepascal · 18 days

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i need him desperately i fear

#hes so gorg

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coquettepascal · 18 days

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masterlist updated!! i posted 2 new joel fics in the last week or so, if ya missed them, and i also added my other din fic on :]

masterlist !

*indicates smut *indicates angst all din fics currently posted are from my ao3 and old blog!! din djarin: in the quiet - how do you cope with the lives you've taken? how does din? unfulfilled loving*- din has an obsession with your body, leaving your feelings unrequited. propagated feelings* - an allergic reaction causes tension between you and din. surely nothing will come of this, right? [sex pollen]

joel miller: texas sweet* - your neighbor, joel, looks lonely this father's day. why is the guilt eating you up? [neighbor!joel] like tiramisu* - nothing like a family vacation with a family friend who also happens to be your secret boyfriend, right? [dbf!joel]

purpose on earth** - joel loves to take, you love to give. [jackson!joel]

#din djarin #pedro pascal #the mandalorian #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #ellie's fics

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coquettepascal · 18 days

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purpose on earth

summary: joel loves to take, you love to give.

a/n: i literally wrote this like an hour ago while i was supposed to be outlining my next project, but @hellishjoel told me to listen to my creative demons... so now this is being posted.

(1.1k, just a baby)

She’s infected, and not yours. Nothing outside of Jackson’s walls belongs to your human hands.

A person like you isn’t meant to own anything here. It feels like you have to belong, if you wish to take.

He will do it for you.

He doesn’t help with any of your wants, your need to own or belong. But Joel shows you what it is to take.

“Lemme see,” he had demanded, “lemme see what I did t’you.”

“S’mine now,” he laughed, cheeks rosy.

That was the first time Joel took from you.

“Joel’s so responsible,” you thought to yourself, “he’ll need me later I bet.”

“Sweet girl, that’s a good mouth f’me, ain’t it?” Joel asks, head tilting back.

It all starts the same, standing on his porch and waiting until he opens the door.

“Missin’ me?” He asks every time.

Joel doesn’t miss you, he doesn’t need you. He just likes how much you give. But you miss him, as soon as he pushes you out into the cold again you miss him. His greed is your purpose.

He never pulls your hair, just grasps your face in his worn-down palms and pushes you away before jerking himself onto your naked body.

“S’nice, you’re so nice t’me,” he grumbles.

“You were missin’ me, huh?” He teases.

Joel rubs his thumb across your cheek again, the closest thing you’ll get to his lips on you. In his post-orgasmic haze, he almost looks fond.

“He almost likes me,” your mind whispers, your stomach fluttering, “it’s almost like I belong.”

And once you’ve nodded in response to his question, messy mouthed and gazing at him, your purpose, he taps his thigh. Blood rushes to your head as you stand, crawling onto him.

In your obedient mind, you define your efforts for Joel as a purpose, but you think you can taste a hint of belonging each time he spreads your legs.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller x reader angst #tlou #pedro pascal

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coquettepascal · 18 days

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trying to figure out tlou timeline as someone who has not played the game is so tough.

is anyone able to explain to me how joel was born in 1981 (maybe???) but tommy fought in the gulf war which happened in the 1990's ?

#i might just scramble the whole timeline and Not care #i dont wanna write during the 90s anyways what if i screwed everything up.#ellie talks #tlou #the last of us #tommy miller #joel miller

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coquettepascal · 18 days

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thank u sm !! and aaaah the gif made me giggle... yes he does love to eat 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

like tiramisu

summary: nothing beats summer vacation like a secret relationship with your dad's best friend, right? wrong! what really beats summer vacation is trying not do jump joel's bones every time you're alone.

tags: 18+, smut, fluff, beach fic, age gap (it's dbf!joel, imagine what you want), dbf!joel, misuse of sunscreen, semi-public activities (not sex), groping, massaging, reader has a dad and brother, overuse of the word pretty, nicknames like pretty___ and baby, oral sex (f!recieving), she/her pronouns for your pussy, joel gets blueballed, fluff, joel and reader are very much in love, established relationship, secret relationship, stereotypical oblivious reader's!dad, mention of food poisoning (nothing graphic), slight grumpy!joel, soft!dom joel (ish)

a/n: woo!! i did it :D this is my submission for @hellishjoel's hot dilf summer challenge (link to the masterlist.) i'm a big fan of their work so i'm just happy to participate. tysm for this opportunity!

(3.6k, not beta read.)

Every year you travel to the coast with your dad and brother, enjoying a week at the tail end of summer to really relax. This year, your brother got sick, and so Joel took his place.

Like Joel, your dad’s best friend. You know, the one that you slept with a month ago one night after everyone went to bed? Joel like kind-of-your-secret-boyfriend-Joel. Simple situation really, you don’t know why you nearly shit yourself when Joel was standing in your driveway dragging a suitcase behind him.

But, as Joel does, he’s made this easy. It shouldn’t be easy to be separated from him, but it’s made the small moments you can get with him better. Besides, you still get to see him in his handsome glory, all tan and broad and…

The not-easy part is not jumping on him every time your dad turns around.

—

“Why is this so much more expensive than ice cream?” Joel asks you, eyes squinted as he peers at the chalkboard that hangs above the gelato cooler.

The family in front of you orders and literally pays with a 50 dollar bill, still not getting anywhere near a justifiable amount of change back. Joel squints at the board harder and you smile up at him. He needs glasses, you’ve been telling him this whole trip.

“Having trouble?” You ask teasingly. Joel’s head turns, face already scowling, but then the employee behind the counter is asking for your order before he can tear you a new one.

Joel is still scowling at you as he shells out 25 dollars for 2 “adult size” cones.

“S’not necessary to spend this much money on vacation, darlin’, we’re already relaxed,” He grumbles as you walk out of the air conditioned business, back into the beachy heat outside.

Innocently, you lick up a drip of the tiramisu flavored gelato that drips down the cone. Joel’s eyes narrow more, clearly not appreciative of your behavior so far today. His face eases up when he takes a bite out of his mango sherbet, cooling his flamed temper.

Your hand snakes into his free one as you walk down the beach, back to where your things are. It’s a quieter day on the beach, luckily. The past week you’ve spent with your father and Joel has been a hectic race for who can find a good spot on the beach, who can find a good spot to sit and eat, and who can find a good spot where the three of you can be left the fuck alone.

Today you’ve found a good spot, tucked away behind some larger rocks. It kind of looks like it could be dangerous to be there when the tide comes in, but it’s out far today. You’re fine, you’re with Joel, and most importantly, the two of you are alone.

Your dad ate some bad shrimp last night at dinner and has a horrible case of food poisoning. He assured both of you that he’d be fine on his own, to go enjoy the sun.

God knows you both will.

You hop over to the blanket you had laid out, cowering under the shade of the rainbow umbrella Joel had bought earlier in the week. He claimed it was so you wouldn’t get heatstroke, but you have a feeling it was more for the sake of his skin.

As you kick off your sandals, Joel sits down beside you under the umbrella, slurping obnoxiously at the remnants of his mango cone. Most of yours is still intact, though a bit melty. It’s something to marvel at, how Joel can inhale any food of any temperature in the blink of an eye. But it makes up his soft tummy, the one you can rest your head on later when you want to soak up the sun.

“Do you wanna try mine?” You ask, noting the hungry eyes he’s giving your gelato. He nods and so you lean over to him, extending the cone.

And just as he leans in to take a massive bite, you jerk your hand, smearing tiramisu gelato onto the tip of his nose.

“Oh my fucking god,” he groans, pulling back, “that’s not fucking funny.”

But it is funny. Seeing the white cream smudged on his nose, tangled in the bristles of his moustache. You can’t help but laugh at him.

“That’s what you get for trying to chomp half of my treat!” You point out.

Joel’s head tilts at you, as if to say “really?”

“Okay fine, I’ll fix it,” you huff. Passing your gelato to your free hand, you lean forward and suck the tip of his nose into your mouth, slurping off the remaining mess.

Pulling back with a pop, you see Joel’s horrified face.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He groans, wiping your saliva off his face.

Joel gives you a look, clearly expecting some sort of repayment for the ridiculous stunt you just pulled. Begrudgingly, you hand the rest of your cone to him, but only because you really should put on sunscreen.

—

The sun beats down on you as you lay against Joel’s chest and belly, his legs spread to make room for you. He’s wearing black board shorts that cut off around his mid-thigh, leaving more skin exposed. Joel didn’t wear these ones yesterday, or any day previous. It was just the same red shorts that went down to his knees. But today, he matches you and your black two piece. His thick thighs firmly frame you, keeping you in place.

“You need to reapply your sunscreen, sweetheart,” Joel hums, blindly pawing the blanket for wherever you tossed the bottle earlier.

Streams of sunlight bathe you where you sit, the sun no longer blocked by the rainbow umbrella Joel insisted on. You planned on tanning anyways, so you don’t mind as much as Joel seems to. He grabs the sunscreen and his sunglasses, tossing them on.

Your chin is tucked to your chest, crunched as Joel leans over you more, opening the cap of the lotion. The liquid is so cold in comparison to the warm sun rays that blanket the two of you, a near-pained hiss escaping you.

“Don’t be a baby,” Joel grunts, working the sunscreen into your abdomen.

His hands work your soft flesh so gently, his calloused palms spreading the protective lotion carefully. Joel’s thumbs dig a little harder as he feels your hip bones beneath his hands, making you protest weakly. You know what he’s doing, taking this private opportunity for his own gain.

“Joel,” you warn whinily, squirming.

His hands grasp you in place, holding you while the cords of muscle on his forearms pop.

“I said don’t be a baby,” he repeats slower this time, his voice rumbling in your ear.

“We both know you’ve taken worse.”

Yeah. Yeah you do know that. It doesn’t shut you up anymore, whining as he reaches to massage your thighs, his hands slipping to your inner thighs fast. You can barely process his touch there before he’s sliding his hands back to a more appropriate spot, your arms. He’s keeping it PG for the most part at least. The nagging fear of your dad suddenly showing up despite his illness lives in the back of your mind.

Joel massages your wrists and the palms of your hands, thumbs pushing the flesh soothingly as he murmurs in your ear about how soft you are, how perfect.

He was keeping it PG, but he’s getting selfish now. The orange sun is painting your skin in a way that’s making it hard for him to think, and it’s been so long since he’s had you alone. Your eyes glaze over as he drips more lotion into his palms, rubbing it between them slowly.

“Don’t wanna forget your chest, would hate for my pretty girl to burn,” is all the warning you get.

Joel’s arms loop beneath yours, his wet palms sliding up your abdomen and then beneath your swim top. Big hands envelope the starting swell of your breasts, coming upwards and smothering your sensitive skin in sunscreen. His name slips out again, choked and surprised, but this isn’t unwanted.

You miss Joel. Even as he’s been here with you for this whole week, you miss his kisses and his touch. Sleeping in the same room as him, but in separate beds, has been awful. To hear him snore without feeling the vibration of it on your own skin has been treacherous.

So you’re letting him have this, because as much as you hunger for him, that man is ravenous.

His thumbs rub over your nipples, most of your top bunched up on his knuckles now. Joel’s voice is low in your ears, talking soft like you aren’t in total privacy on the beach. Everything is flying now, his mouth uncontrollable as he tells you how good you feel, how much he missed you.

“So fuckin’ pretty, all week you’ve been so gorgeous, darlin,’”

And then the kisses start. Hot down your neck, his scruffy face trails, tongue tracing the bitemarks he leaves occasionally.

“Joel– Joel no marks,” you remind softly.

He obliges with a grunt, clearly unhappy with the situation. Sometimes he can get away with little marks, ones like on your inner thighs or your tits. But not here on a beach vacation, not so close to your dad.

Joel continues to kiss you regardless, tilting your head so he can awkwardly meet your lips as he gropes you, massaging the lotion in as if the sun would ever hit any skin below your swimsuit. The atmosphere is only getting hotter as he touches you, the sun blazing against your skin as Joel rolls your nipples between his fingers, making you cry out.

You want more, you need more.

You can feel him hard against you, slightly digging into your back. Sex on the beach is a terrible idea. Public indecency, sand in places it shouldn’t be… but it’s so tempting when you feel how badly he wants you, how badly he missed you.

Desperately, you turn in his embrace, his hands slipping out of your top, leaving you exposed. You shove your face against his hungrily, feeling as his sunscreen greased hand cups your jaw, gentle even when he’s starving. You open for him easily, letting his hungry tongue taste where he wants. He tastes like waffle cones and tiramisu, you want to lick him clean. You breathe heavily when he slips off your mouth and kisses the side of your face.

“S’a good girl, lettin’ me miss her,” he says into your skin.

Your mouth feels rubbed raw, your nipples are buzzing, and the sun blazes across your back. Everywhere feels warm, his lips, his tongue, your skin, your cunt in these bikini bottoms that stick to you in the worst way. You want Joel’s fingers, spreading you open however he wants.

Joel is so good at taking care of you, so good that he can hear the rambunctious group of people coming before you can. Hands tug down your top and flip you back around before you can realize.

“You’re alright, s’okay, just some people,” Joel says, sounding anxious himself.

Just some people. Not anyone you know, just some people.

The two of you quickly switch back to how youwere, your head on his chest while you rest between his thighs. One of his hands rests on your abdomen as he squeezes you affectionately between his legs. It’s really frustrating, watching as the group of people sets up not too far down from the both of you. So much for your private spot on the beach, and potential sex.

He shifts beneath you, the bulge in his swim shorts uncomfortable. Joel has settled for rubbing his thumb against the smooth skin of your tummy, catching his breath still.

“You can sleep, baby. Jus’ enjoy the sun, okay?”

The last thing on your mind is sleep, you’re more focused on the conch shell in his pants, but whatever. The sun is warm, and you’re with Joel. His hand stills on your belly, a warm weight in an attempt to soothe you.

It works, you fall asleep as the sun sets, and wake up when the cool night air shivers past you. Joel has managed to snake out from under you, using an unused beach towel to make a pillow for you. He’s packed everything up, sans the towel pillow and the blanket you lay on. Everything is ready to go, he’s just been waiting for you.

You watch from where you lay, as he dips his toes in the water. His broad shoulders are covered by a white, linen, shirt, highlighting him across the shore. Something about this is so right, to be on vacation with him, to be taken care of by him. Laying back, eyes staring into the inky night, you wonder what would have happened if the two of you hadn’t stayed up late that night, chatting and flirting. How long would you have gone without feeling loved, and like you belonged?

Being Joel’s girl is more than that, even if no one knows you’re his, you have come to know yourself through him. His hands brushed away the sands that blurred your eyes, you’re seeing clearly for what feels like the first time ever.

Your love for him crashes down on you hard when he turns, walking back to you with a soft, dorky, smile. That’s your man, that’s your stupid old man, and he loves you.

“You ready t’go, darlin?” Joel asks, clearly relieved you eventually woke up.

With a nod, you walk as a pair back to the hotel. Joel insists on carrying everything, claiming he “don’t need” your help, even as he grunts.

Entering the lobby of the hotel is a reminder that you have to be normal again, you and Joel are just getting along swell, and not seriously infatuated with one another.

His eyes bear into you when you step into the elevator, you can feel his eyes on your back as you press the button for your floor.

“What?” You ask, stepping back to lean against the railing.

Joel’s mouth seems to be dry as he responds, eyes tracing something on your stomach.

“Your tummy,” he manages.

You look down instantly, concerned you’ve managed a sunburn despite Joel’s efforts. Instead though, you find a tan line. A tan line in the shape of Joel’s hand, where it rested as you slept. Ghosts of Joel’s lips and teeth on your neck from earlier murmur across your skin, misting tingles across your shoulders and chest. He wanted to mark you so badly, wanted to sink his teeth into you the way he should have been able to, despite your refusal. Now he has his mark, across your tummy in the shape of his hands, the ones that carefully nurture you.

You can see how it’s making him tick, how his scruffy jaw is clenched as his eyes are entranced by the shape on your belly. He has to spend the rest of the evening, the last couple of days of this trip, with his mark on you. Joel has to do all of that and not jump onto you at every opportunity he can.

“Baby,” Joel breathes, but the elevator doors open, and your dad is right there.

Your arms instantly wrap around your middle, trying to hide away the Joel-hand shaped tan line. As sick as your dad was this morning, he’s looking miles better. There’s colour in his cheeks, that isn’t green, and he’s standing up.

“Hey kid,” he greets cheerfully, “I’m feelin’ a helluva lot better so I was gonna go out and grab a bite to eat.”

The elevator is so quiet, the doors try to shut and Joel slams a hand against it, to keep it open. Your dad looks a little weirded out, but just smiles. “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” you manage to say, sounding like your lungs have been cut out of your chest.

In the few months that you and Joel have been “together” you haven’t been caught, or even close to being caught. This tan line on your tummy could have been the cat out of the bag, but thankfully your dad seems oblivious.

He steps into the elevator between you two, gently nodding at the elevator doors.

“Y’all gettin’ out? Both of y’look kinda sunfried,” your dad asks.

Joel manages to respond this time as the two of you hurriedly leave the confined space. -

He practically dragged you down the hallway and back to your room once the elevator doors shut, leaving your dad in the dark. Joel dumped all your stuff on the floor near the door, pushing you off him when you tried to kiss at him.

“Naw. Bed,” he had grumbled, making a vague gesture to your bed.

You both knew you had limited time, your dad would be gone for an hour tops. Joel had peeled off his shirt while you shimmied out of what little clothes you had on, your swimsuit coverup falling away easily.

Now, you lay on your back, and if you could look down, you would see the sweat that’s soaking his back and the mess of hair on his head.

But you can’t look down, you can barely move as is. Your legs, which are tossed over his shoulders, shiver, toes curled. You want to ask if he can breathe down there, but your voice keeps catching, repeating his name again and again. The bristles of his facial hair might be chafing, but everything is wet right now, your cunt, his face, your thighs. He’s suffocating in your flesh, opening his mouth to sloppily make out with your pussy, licking at your clit as he sucks it between his lips. It isn’t gentle, he’s fucking famished.

“Joel– Baby, please,” you manage to whimper.

He probably can’t hear you with the headlock you’ve put him in, soft thighs trapping his ears. Joel’s face slides down further to push his tongue into you, making you clench and gush as his nose presses to your clit. Reaching your hand down, you lace your fingers against his curls, trying to pry him away, but he just won’t quit. Your fingers slip from his sweaty strands, slamming onto the sheets as he doesn’t let up.

“Missed you, missed her,” he rasps between kisses.

Joel loves this, loves pleasing you. This isn’t submission, this is worship. He talks to your cunt like he knows her, like he’s dating her too. Gentle as he is, he knows where your aches and cricks are, knows how to massage them with his fingers and tongue. Joel takes care of you both, it’s what he lives for.

“I know, I can feel it, I missed you too,” you babble, hands flagrant between his hair and the sheets.

He laughs softly into you, smiling. You tug him closer, grinding onto his nose as a tease.

Joel focuses on bringing himself closer, arms snaking up beneath your ass to curl his hands around your thighs, fingers digging in as he pulls you closer. “Been so patient all week, need you t’come for me, please pretty thing?” He groans.

Nodding your head, you start to work with him. Again and again you roll your hips into his face. The two of you are fucking on borrowed time and Joel hastily promises you that he can take care of himself in the shower later, that he just needs to focus on you.

“Just need to taste you, remember your cunt in my mouth, please?” Joel asks.

You nod even faster now, huffing out air as your hips rise and he pulls you closer, tongue and teeth and nose buried in you. Every movement he makes begs for your release, begs for you to give him what he wants. His voice rumbles around your head, a voice encouraging this selfish feeling of pleasure.

“C’mon darlin, I’ve been waitin’ all week to have you. Let go for me, I’ve been patient.”

It sends you over, the mixture of Joel getting pussydrunk on you and the thoughts of him in your head. Your thighs lock around his head even harder, and he powers through without taking a breath for himself. Thoughts of times with him previous flash through your mind as you shiver, thoughts of what he’ll do to you once you’re both home make you gush. He laps it all up, his reward for being patient.

When he pulls away, your essence is all over his face. Slicked through his facial hair and even on the tip of his nose, like tiramisu gelato.

Unlike the gelato, you decide not to suck this cream off his nose.

Gently, you swipe a finger over his nose, cleaning it off with your own tongue.

“Thank you, baby,” you hum.

Joel manages to drag himself up your body, caging you beneath him while he smiles. Soft kisses are shared between the two of you, enjoying the peaceful moment where you’re finally, truly, alone. His moustache prickles your upper lip as he smiles and pulls away.

“Can give me your ‘thank you’s’ in a few days time, sweet girl.” He says, pulling himself down to kiss the 5 fingertips of the hand tan line he left.

Looking down at him as he kisses your belly, you hope you'll be exchanging thank you's for a very long time.

#ellie talking tag #joel miller x reader

746 notes · View notes

coquettepascal · 18 days

Text

KERI !! you literally never disappoint oh my god 🫶🫶🫶 this was delicious

His Happy Ending {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3k

Warnings: Flirty Dieter, propositioning a masseuse, full body massage, erections, skirting professionalism, dirty talk, cumming untouched, drug usage, getting high, sex while high, consent is sexy, oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected sex, use of sex toys, switch Dieter, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, Dieter has issues, overreaction, accusations and irrational anger, angst, apologies, face riding

Comments: You are Dieter's on set masseuse, hired for the duration of the film to work the kinks out of the actor's sore body. Connecting and vibing with him, will Dieter get his happy ending?

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Signing an NDA was a routine part of your job, dealing with enough celebrities and studio executives that it has become a stand part of your contracts. This time though, you are excited. You’ve been hired to be Dieter Bravo’s personal masseuse on this film. The actor is apparently working through some back issues and because of your discreet reputation, the studio is paying you a lot of money to make sure the Oscar winner is always as relaxed as possible.

Dieter groans, his back aching as he comes off set and heads into his trailer. He knew this role would be physically demanding but he didn’t realize just how much his body would ache. The drugs and his middle age are taking a toll and he hates that he can’t spring back like he used to. He enters his trailer, his assistant behind him, and he is pleasantly surprised to find you waiting for him with your table set up. “Fuckkk yesss.” He groans in excitement. “I’m gonna shower and then I’ll be back out. Jesus, I hope you got a good kneed on you. My back is fucked.” He says and walks off into the small shower, his costume dropping on the floor on the way that his assistant picks up until he’s grimacing at the sweaty briefs he handles. “I will leave you to it. He won’t be long.” He tells you and leaves the trailer with the costume to take to the department to have it cleaned for the next shoot.

You hum to yourself, amused with his eagerness as you start to light the aromatherapy candles you have placed around the small trailer. It won’t take long to have it smelling in here, and you always believe that a relaxed atmosphere helps your clients relax and work out their knotted muscles better. When you are done, you set out the oils that he had chosen, or maybe his assistant had chosen, and wash your hands one last time so they aren’t cold when you start.

Dieter comes out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, and he groans at the soothing scent of the aromatherapy candles. "You know your shit." He compliments you and you turn around just as he drops the towel. "Where do you want me?" He flirts slightly, waggling his eyebrows.

You’ve been hit on a lot. Asked for ‘happy endings’ or what other services you provide. Most of the time it irritates you, but this is kind of the exception. You’ve been warned that Dieter will ask you to sleep with him. It’s just a part of his personality, but that he will and does take no for an answer. He’s not even hard and his flaccid cock is impressive enough that you know not many people would deny him. For a middle aged man, he looks incredibly in shape. “Um, on the table, face down.” You instruct. “Do you have any concentrated pain or just all over?” You ask, wanting to get a feel for what his needs are.

“My back and neck kill me. I used to do my own stunts back in the day, desperate to impress and make it big.” He scoffs at his younger self, “and now I’m paying for me.” He groans as he lays down on the table. He’s desperate to relax after a hectic filming schedule. Glad his agent thought to put this in his retainer.

“That’s where I will start.” You hum, picking up the warming oils and spreading some on your hands. “Let me know if I need to adjust how deep I’m going.” You tell him. “I’ll start with deep tissue and work you out. You’ll be ready to fall asleep when I’m done with you.”

Dieter smiles against the plush cushion as you tell him exactly what you are doing. He groans when your hands make contact with his skin. He’s been a little touch starved lately. He hisses when you start to kneed and you ask if he’s okay. “I’m good. Christ, your hands are magic.” He declares and you’ve barely even started on him.

You always enjoy when your clients enjoy themselves, it appeals to the people pleaser in you. Listening to his groans with a trained ear as you do a once over on his back, noting any particular spots that need concentrated attention.

“Oh shit. Right there.” Dieter says when you find a particularly tender spot that needs more attention. “Yes that’s iiiiiiittttt.” He hisses when you dig deep and his cock starts to stir at the way you work his body over.

You hum softly in acknowledgement, continuing to work that knot in his back, applying pressure until he hisses and then soothes it for a moment. You don’t want him to be too sore tomorrow, but he has a lot of tension in his back.

Dieter swears this is the best massage he’s ever had. “Fuck baby. You’re so good.” He compliments you breathlessly as he starts to relax under your touch. His cock hardening even more when you work the knots in his back like the expert you are.

You try not to talk to your clients unless they engage you, but Dieter’s commentary is not exactly talkative. You just hum softly, stopping to pour more of the warming oil into your hand to make sure you don’t pull at his skin. He has such a lovely back, you find yourself watching the muscles move as you work the knots out.

Dieter hisses when you find another knot until you work that out and start to move lower down his back. “So fucking good.” He slurs slightly as he practically melts into the table. Getting older sucks and he hates it, hates how he can’t jump around like he used to.

“That’s it.” You encourage softly. “Just relax.” You rub your thumbs along his spine and dip just below the sheet you had draped over his small and perfect ass to make sure he preserved some privacy.

Dieter groans, his fingers flexing by his side and you continue working his body until he’s relaxed and he’s hard. So fucking hard. You rub his legs and arms and ask him to turn over. “I, uh, I kinda - you offer happy endings?” He flirts as he shifts to turn over, the sheet around him tenting with his erection.

You’re actually tempted. And it surprises you as much as him asking that question dismays you. He had been on his best behavior but you remind yourself that he would ask to fuck anyone. “That’s impressive.” You admit. “But it would unprofessional.” You reach out to rub the muscles on his inner thigh, dangerously close to his erection.

Dieter bites his lip, never one to push, but you are gorgeous. He groans softly as you massage his thigh. “Unprofessional.” He murmurs, “I - you can say no. I understand no.” He promises, trying to suppress the moan when you kneed his sore muscles a little harder.

You like that he’s not pushing, it makes it even sexier as his cock twitches and tents the sheet over his hips. “Just relax.” You hum, aware that you could probably make him cum without even touching his cock if you massage the right areas as hard as he is.

He tries but his cock is throbbing with each motion of your hands. His cock twitching under the sheet and he knows you have noticed it. He groans when you massage his upper thighs, your hands so close to where he really needs you.

“Close your eyes.” You coo softly, watching his surprisingly long lashes flutter and you bite your lip. This is so beyond professional even if you haven’t broken any rules. Pressing your fingers to the v of his hips, you rub his pelvic muscles slowly.

Dieter closes his eyes, his fingers flexing and he clenches his fists as you rub his pelvis. Christ, he thinks you’re the best masseuse he’s ever had. He groans when you rub his skin a little deeper, his cock twitching again.

Your fingers continue to stroke, to press and massage as you move closer to the tented flesh. Dragging the sheet over the skin. “Almost done.” You murmur softly. “Are you going to be a good boy and cum?”

Your words send him over the edge. “Holy shitttt.” He hisses and his cock twitches as he cums, spurts of hot seed hitting his stomach and chest, flying in the air before they land while you hover over him.

You can’t believe that he just came. You don’t stop massaging him, just slowing your circles down and drifting away from his now overly sensitive cock to move down to his lower thighs. “Good boy.”

Dieter keeps his eyes closed, enjoying the way the orgasm takes over his body, helping him relax even more. Your cooed praise makes his stomach twist and you work on his legs as his cock softens against his belly. “Jesus H Christ and all twelve of his disciples.” Dieter murmurs in disbelief that he just came without you touching his cock. “They hired you, right? Like, full contract? Not one and done?”

You give a small chuckle as you pull your hands away, the massage complete. “I’m yours for the duration of filming.” You promise. “I’ll be here everyday, just in case you need me.”

“Thank fucking God.” Dieter says and he offers you a lazy smirk. “Gonna look forward to seeing you every day. What’s your name?” He asks and you tell him your name as you start to put your things away. “Beautiful.” He murmurs, his dark eyes taking in your face. “Thank you. That- I haven’t felt this good in a long time.”

“Good.” You smile at him quickly before you look back down at your bag to make sure all your oils are put away before moving to snuff out the candles. “That’s what I want for you.”

He watches you blow out your candles and he smiles at you, enjoying the serenity of this moment. “Seriously, I think I’ll be calling you back every day.” He says and you nod, “that’s what I’m here for.”

****

“Fuckkkkk yessss.” Dieter groans as you kneed the knot in his back. Today was a particularly physical day and having this massage is making him forget about messing up his scene a few times. Your elbows work his stiffness and you’ve been coming to his trailer for the past two weeks. He hasn’t overstepped again and came but he’s gotten hard every time, lazily jerking off after you leave his trailer.

“You are extremely tense today.” You murmur. “Take a hot bath when you get back to your room. And smoke a little.” You know that Dieter smokes weed, and does a lot more, but he’s never been high around you since he doesn’t use when he’s filming. “It will do you some good.”

“I- shit - I don’t have any. Ran out and haven’t had a chance to get to a dispensary.” He confesses as you continue to work his back. “I have a pen you can use.” You offer, “it’s pretty strong.” Dieter groans, “you’re a fucking angel. Wanna come back to my place and get high with me? We can order food.”

You shouldn’t, you should drop the pen off and go home, but it’s a chance to hang out with Dieter Bravo and you selfishly want to take it. “That sounds good.” You nod. “I can bring my oils and give you a touch up while you relax?” You offer.

Dieter groans, “like I said…a fucking angel.” He hisses when your thumbs press into his spine and he lets you massage him with those magical hands of yours. “Keep going. I need - what kind of food do you like?” He asks you, eyes fluttering closed.

“Do you like Indian food?” You ask conversationally. “That or Chinese is my favorite.” You shrug. “Or really good Mexican.”

“Oooo, Indian food.” Dieter hums, “I love samosas and butter chicken. I’ll have my assistant order it. We can look at the menu when we get back to my place.” He declares, “we can get Chinese food next time.” He knows you’ll be hanging out with him again. He likes you. You vibe well with him, keep him calm and entertained.

You smirk to yourself at his bossy assumption but you don’t say anything. You like Dieter. He’s got an ego on him, but name one actor that doesn’t? He’s actually pretty polite one on one and he’s not asked you for anything else since that first massage. “Sounds good.” You hum, finishing the massage and patting his back like you’re prone to do when you’ve finished.

Dieter grunts as he gets off of the table, rolling his relaxed shoulders and ignoring his erection as he grabs his sweatpants to get dressed. "Get your stuff ready, you can follow me home." He winks at you and shoves his feet in his crocs.

You chuckle at his flirting and nod. “Let me just pack up the table, unless you just want to leave it here?” You ask him, knowing that he prefers his massages in his trailer because of his reaction to them.

“You can leave it here. You’re gonna be back tomorrow anyway.” He shrugs, grabbing his cardigan that has way too many holes in it but he doesn’t care. “You can always leave your stuff here. It’s locked after we leave.”

“Alright.” You agree, knowing that your table isn’t exactly easy to haul around, so it’s unlikely that it would be stolen. “I’ll follow you over? What car do you drive, I’m sure I’m in a different part of the parking lot.”

“I have an Audi.” He says, “it’s a space gray.” He recalls what the car salesman told him. He isn’t big into cars, he just wanted something comfortable. “Let’s go to my car and I’ll drive you to yours, make sure you’re safe.” He insists as he escorts you to the closest lot where the actors and producers and directors park.

It’s actually pretty sweet that Dieter is willing to drive you, being concerned with your safety. You sometimes get the feeling he doesn’t really think about others, although that could be because he’s so used to being catered to and having others worry about him. You admire the sleek and shiny car and bite your lip. “My car is over there.” You point across the large parking lot towards the back. “It’s a red Mazda.”

Dieter doesn’t open the door for you but you can in his car and he quietly drives you to yours across the parking lot. “You don’t have to come back to mine if you don’t want to. Now’s your chance to back out. I know - I know most people don’t actually want to hang out with me.” He confesses, biting his lip.

You frown slightly, confused and wondering if he’s changed his mind. “I- I was looking forward to hanging out - if you wanted to.” You admit. “I think you’re pretty funny and I-” You don’t want to admit that you have been a fan or enjoy his slightly zany interviews so you just shrug. “If you want, I can just give you my pen for tonight? If you don’t want me to come over?”

Dieter’s eyes widen and he shakes his head, “no. I- I want you to come over.” He tells you, “I want you to come back to my place.” He doesn’t confess it, but he’s lonely. He hasn’t been able to have parties since he’s filming and no one hangs around him unless it’s to get something from him so he’s been alone. And slightly depressed. He wants company and you seem to make him happy. “Come back to my place.” He begs slightly, his lower lip sticking out.

“Okay.” You nod and smile when you look over at him as he looks at you with a surprisingly open and longing look. “Just don’t drive too fast, okay?” You tease. “I can’t afford too many tickets and I can’t flirt with a cop like you can to get out of it.” You had heard about Dieter dating one of the famous CHiPs officers after being pulled over and it had made you snort in amusement. A cop and Dieter Bravo seemed like an unlikely pair.

Dieter chuckles, “I’ll drive slow, sweetheart.” He promises with a wink, “but I reckon you could flirt your way out of any ticket with that pretty smile of yours.” He promises, “and those tits.” With that, you shut the door and he chuckles at the way you playfully roll your eyes.

When you turn around to unlock your car, you can’t help but grin. Dieter likes your tits and for some reason, it feels like a compliment. You start the car and carefully pull out of the parking space, smiling when you see Dieter is waiting just down the row for you to follow him. Your pen is in the center console, not exactly the best spot for it, but you’re happy it’s there now, so you don’t have to go home to get it.

Dieter drives to his home in Sherman Oaks. It’s a distance from the studio but it’s worth it to be away from the craziness of Hollywood. His sanctuary and his club when he wants to have parties and his neighbors can’t complain because they are so far away from him. He clicks the remote to open his gate and you follow him in, parking behind him outside of his home.

Admiring his home, you can’t help but feel a little giddy. One weekend, you and a friend had done one of those ‘Home of the Stars’ tours on a whim and had been driven by Dieter’s house, but with the privacy fence and shrubbery, you had never actually seen it. “Wow.” You whistle as you climb out of your car, pen in hand. “Swanky, Bravo.” You compliment. “I bet you throw some cool parties here.”

“Oh I do.” He says, half boasting, half informing you. He knows his parties attract the wrong people to his life but he yearns for any kind of connection he can get. It’s lonely at the top. He punches in the code to open the front door, the alarm automatically disarming and he gestures for you to enter.

You walk in, taking in the space and while you can see that he obviously originally had a decorator, signs of Dieter’s personality are all over the large, open living room. You giggle slightly at the large oil painting of an orgy over the fireplace and smirk at him. “That’s an interesting conversation piece.”

“Painted it myself.” He reveals, smirking at the memory of that night that inspired the artwork. “You like it?” He asks and you giggle, “it’s…inspired.” You settle on that and he chuckles. “You want a drink?” He walks over to the bar, opening it to display the different bottles.

His bar selection is impressive and you lift a brow. “If you have good tequila, then I’m your girl.” You tease playfully. “Can I have it on the rocks with a bit of lime if you have it?”

“Coming right up, baby.” Dieter nods, “you wanna watch a movie?” He asks as he pours a heavy measure into a glass. “I wanna watch a movie. You pick. Then we can get high and order food.”

“Nothing that you’re in, of course.” You wait for him to nod his head and agree. “Okay, then.” You take his remote and turn the tv on, the thing massive on the other wall and it could be its own movie screen. Finding his streaming apps, your eyes widen. “Oh! I’ve been waiting for this one.” You turn to Dieter to see what he thinks.

“Fuck yes. It’s on my list too. Yes, baby. Good choice.” He compliments you and carries over your drinks after getting some ice and a lime slice. He groans as he kicks off his crocs and settles on the sofa beside you, handing you the drink after you hit play.

You notice that he’s not ordering food and you wonder if he normally has his assistant order. Opening your phone, you pick an Indian restaurant that will deliver and put in an online order with enough food for both of you and some other things to munch on if you get hungry when you're hitting the pen.

“You didn’t - shit. I was gonna order that but I don’t know how. My assistant usually does it. I’ll give you the money.” He grabs his phone and opens it, “what’s your number?” He asks and you tell him, knowing you can’t argue with him. He sends you the money and clinks his drink with yours. “You brought the pen?” He asks, wanting to get high after a stressful day.

“Absolutely.” You laugh as you pull the pen out of your pocket and waggle it at him “I’m glad I accidentally left it in my pocket the other day and stuck it in my console.” You flick the button on and let the coils warm up. “I like this mango berry aftertaste they put in the oil.”

“Oooo. I have pills too if that’s your thing. Acid as well. Just fresh out of weed.” He says, gesturing for you to take the first hit from the pen. The movie is starting but he’s so focused on watching you.

You take a hit, holding it in and passing the pen to Dieter as you exhale with a small sigh. “Your turn.” You hum, enjoying the almost instantaneous effects of the pen. “It’s good, probably my favorite.”

He takes the pen, clicking the button before he inhales deeply, loving how it immediately relaxes him. He exhales with a grin, handing you back the pen. “You know, I haven’t been this relaxed in forever. Your massages…they are the best.”

You grin and take another hit off the pen before you answer him. “I like giving you massages. You’re so vocal, always letting me know what you need and how good it feels.” You won’t even mention that you wonder if that’s how he acts in bed, vocal and needy. “Is it helping?” You ask, passing the pen back to him.

“Fuck yessss it is.” He groans when he takes another hit. “You’re like a damn angel. I fucking love your massages and your voice and - you have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off thinking about you.” He admits, biting his lip as his eyes flick back to the tv.

You hum, not wanting him to interpret your laugh of disbelief as you laughing at him. “Well, then I would have to say that I’m fucking honored.” You admit, smirking slightly as you reach over and take the pen out of his hands. “Being spank material is a high form of flattery.”

“Especially from me.” He says without humility. “I have models and actresses in my spank bank. But you…you’re all natural and fucking gorgeous and your hands - fucking heaven sent.” He groans at the memories. “Made me cum without even touching my cock. You’re a goddamn artist.” He declares, his dark eyes watching you.

“That was really sexy.” You admit, eyes flickering over to him and then back to the tv. “Erotic.” You pass him the pen back. “I absolutely went home and masturbated thinking about it. My NDA doesn’t say anything about having dirty thoughts about you.” You tease, winking at him and leaning back against the cushions. “You’re fucking hot and you know it.”

Dieter offers you a smirk, his head resting against the sofa cushion as he closes his eyes. “Hot but not long term material. Too fucked up. Too many mistakes. Too annoying.” He quotes just some of the things his exes had told him when they ended it. He opens his eyes and takes another hit off of the pen, handing it back to you. “So…you obviously don’t have a partner. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here…unless I’ve read you wrong.”

“No.” You scoff and shake your head. “You’d be so surprised how many people get pissed off when I tell them that I can’t tell them who I massaged or what kind of treatments they wanted.” You shrug. “My last boyfriend kept accusing me of cheating, so I dumped his ass and decided to just do my own thing for a while.” You look over at Dieter again seriously. “I don’t talk about my work, to anyone.” You promise.

“You’d make a hell of a lot off of TMZ.” He teases and nudges you, silently telling you he trusts you. “So you do offer happy endings?” He jokes, feeling the high creep over him, making him looser and more relaxed than he was after finishing his scenes for the day.

“I should slap you for that.” You scoff, rolling your head over to look at him before you grin. “But something tells me that would just make you even harder than you already get when I’m massaging you.” Biting your lip, you decide to go for it and roll over to straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “What kind of happy ending are you wanting?”

“Holy shit.” He whispers, eyes wide and his hands want to grab your hips but he doesn’t, his fingers flexing while they hover over your skin. “Anything you’re willing to give me.” He answers honestly. “Just want you. To touch you. To have you touch me.”

“Yeah?” You roll your hips down, feeling the beginnings of him hardening underneath you. Your fingers slide into his hair and you hum. “I’ve imagined touching you. Being touched by you. Seeing if you’re as vocal when you fuck as you are on my table. If you’re submissive, or if you like to take what you want.”

“Jesus.” Dieter hisses as you grind down onto him. “Baby. I- can I touch you?” He pleads and you nod. He groans and his hands find your hips, squeezing them. “Fuck. I want you to make me moan. I want to make you moan. I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

You lick your lips, smirking as you reach over and take the pen again. Drawing a deep puff off of it and holding it in your mouth before you lean in and press your lips to Dieter’s. Finding it so sexy when he moans as he opens his mouth for you to blow the air into his lungs. Sharing the hit with him.

His hands slide around to squeeze your ass while he blows the smoke back into your mouth. You both smile and his hand finds the back of your head, dragging you back to his face so he can press his lips to yours. His tongue slides into your mouth, his fingers digging into your flesh as he hardens beneath you.

This time, it’s you moaning, very pleased with the eager, demanding flicks of his tongue against yours. Making you cup his face in your hands as you grind down into his cock and your cunt clenches when you realize that he’s going to be inside you. That pretty cock of his will go for a ride.

Dieter’s hands slide under your shirt, pausing to give you a chance to push him away but when you don’t, he groans into your mouth and pulls back, dragging your shirt over your head. “Need you. Wanna see the tits I’ve been imagining for too damn long.”

You laugh at the slight pout in his voice, knowing that it’s been less than two weeks, but to Dieter that’s a lifetime. You let him toss the shirt away and let go of him long enough to unclip your bra and drag it down your arms.

“Oh my fucking Godddd.” Dieter groans when you toss your bra aside and he cups your tits, squeezing them to push them together. He surges forward to press his face into your tits, motorboating you.

You choke out a laugh, squealing at the silliness of the act and how much Dieter is enjoying himself. His hands are warm, larger and he squeezes your tits with just the right amount of harshness mixed with the obvious worship. “Dieter.” You moan when he starts to kiss along the tops of your tits and gasp when he draws a nipple into his mouth.

He feels like he’s on top of the world. The high hitting him and he is hungry for you. He bites down on your nipple, sucking on it to soothe it, and he closes his eyes. His hand finding your back, caressing your skin as his other hand squeezes your tit.

You moan again, enjoying the attention he is paying to your tits, always loving when a man spends the time to get you soaking wet. Your cunt clenches and you grind down on his hard length. “Your cock- I’ve imagined you fucking me after seeing it everyday.” You admit breathlessly.

Dieter pulls back to look at you, eyes blown wide from the drugs and the high he’s getting from touching you. “Yeah? You wanna sit on my cock, pretty girl? Wanna make yourself cum?” He coos, his hands resuming their squeezing of your tits, pinching your nipples between his fingers.

“Wanna suck your cock first.” You enjoy giving blowjobs. Never finding it to be a chore when you want to be with the man and enjoying what makes them moan. “Will you let me suck your cock?”

“If I ever turn that offer down, you gotta get me to a doctor.” Dieter teases and you shift off of him. His heart pounds in his chest as you kneel on the floor and your fingers hook in his sweatpants. He lifts his hips so you can pull them down, his cock flopping out against his stomach, hard and the head turning purple with arousal.

“Yep, you have a pretty cock.” You hum, settling between his spread thighs and sliding your hands up, enjoying the way his surprising light leg hair bristles against your hands. You are used to touching him like this and you smile when he moans, your fingers digging into the muscles you know are sore as you move higher. “I know sucking your cock is going to soak my panties.” You coo, wrapping your fingers around the thick base.

“Holy shit.” Dieter curses, watching you take his cock into your hand has him panting with need, twitching in your grip as you shuffle closer and your warm breath hits his aching skin. “I’m - I want to eat you out after you’re done with me.” He declares, his hands squeezing the cushions of the sofa beside you.

“If you want to.” You won’t demand it, it’s not any fun when someone begrudgingly returns the favor. “But right now, I want to blow your mind, and your cock.” You giggle at your pun and lean forward to take the dark head of his cock into your mouth eagerly.

Dieter groans, low and deep in his chest as you take the head of his cock into your mouth. “Fuck. Oh fuck me.” He hisses, his head dropping back until he lifts it, wanting to see you suck his cock. He will eat you out after, imagining what you taste like far too many times to not get what he wants tonight.

You don’t rush, taking your time to kick and suck as you stroke his cock, learning what he likes and what he loves from his sounds. It’s sloppy, your tongue dragging over every inch of him and you don’t skimp on making sure you make it wet and soft for him.

“Jesusssss.” Dieter hisses, watching you take his cock deeper and you are a goddamn goddess. Sucking and licking and you are dribbling down his cock to slick it up even more. He hasn’t had a blowjob this enthusiastic since he was in college. You’re doing this because you want to, not because of what he can get you. “So fucking pretty.” He coos, caressing your cheek.

You preen under the praise and lazily watch him under your lashes as you work his cock with your mother and hand. Your cunt is throbbing and your other hand slides down to unbutton your jeans and rub your clit.

“That’s it, baby. Take what you want. Use me for your pleasure. Rub that pretty little clit for me. Can’t wait to suck on it. Can’t wait to see you cum for me.” He rambles, lost in the feel of your hot mouth. “You’re goddamn perfect. Oh shit. Knew you’d be fucking talented.”

You love when a man is vocal and when he praises you, it makes you go even harder. You hum and swallow with him deep in your throat, feeling him pulse and throb. “Ohhhh fuck.” Dieter moans, making you grin when he stretches his head back so you can see his gorgeously vulnerable throat.

“Fuck me. Your mouth- better than any fucking drug. Better than - so damn good. I’m gonna - I don’t want to cum down your throat if you don’t want it.” He warns you, knowing he isn’t going to last when you’ve been massaging him daily and he hasn’t cum since that first session with you.

“You can cum.” You hate pulling off his cock for even a second and you take him back in just as quickly as you get the words out. Bobbing your head and reaching down to carefully cradle his soft and full balls in your hand.

He groans when you roll his balls, loving the feeling and your mouth hollows around his cock. “Yes. Yes. Oh shit. Oh shit. I’m gonna - fuckkkkkk.” He practically wails as he cums, hit spurts hitting the back of your throat as he moans your name.

Honestly, you’re surprised that he even remembers your name and he continues to pulse down your throat. You swallow as much as you can but Dieter Bravo apparently produces gallons of cum when he has an orgasm. Moaning at the saltiness of him, missing it after so long without having sex.

Cum escapes your lips and slides down your chin and Dieter reacts fast, dragging you off of his cock and he drags you into his lap. His tongue quickly slides along your chin to lap up his cum that escaped your lips.

You gasp in surprise, not thinking that he would want to kiss you, let alone lick up his own spend. But you don’t mind it, finding it extremely hot and you turn your lips to his to kiss him again.

His tongue slides into your mouth, not caring about the taste of his cum, and his hands find your tits, squeezing them. “Wanna make you cum too before the food arrives.” His hand trails down your stomach to unzip your jeans. “Want these off.” He declares, shifting you to lay you down on his sofa.

You lift your hips so he can peel your jeans and panties down and you start to giggle. “Sorry I didn’t trim.” You snort. “I didn’t think I would have a movie star staring at my twat tonight.”

Dieter chuckles, tossing your jeans across the room. “Honey, if I ever complain about a full bush, check my goddamn temperature. Just call me Dieter the Explorer.” He waggles his eyebrows and pushes your legs apart, groans groaning as he gets a look at your soaked folds. “Pretty little pussy.” He murmurs and shifts onto his belly, leaning forward to nudge his nose against your mound, inhaling your heady scent. “Fucking delicious.” He declares and surges forward to flatten his tongue through your folds.

You can now say you’ve had an Oscar winner eat your cunt. You groan and giggle at the same time, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his curls and your hips push up. His tongue is surprisingly soft and yet he flicks it like a fucking champ against your clit. “Oh fuck.” You whimper, eyes closing in pleasure. “You can do this anytime you want.” You pant out.

Dieter pushes your thighs back towards your stomach, wanting to access more of your flesh. His tongue flicks over your clit then he slides his tongue down to push into your dripping wet cunt. A low groan smothered into your flesh as you tug on his locks.

You love the way he is eagerly lapping at your cunt, his moans into your flesh intoxicating as you pull on his hair again. “So good baby, you’re such a good boy.” You coo. “You like eating my pussy? Feeling how wet I am for you?”

Dieter whines into your folds, nodding hard enough that his nose rubs your clit. He pulls back for a second, “fucking love it.” He confesses, his hands caressing your thighs. He loves the way you’re practically dripping down his chin, your moans hitting his ears loud enough to make his spent cock start to stir again as he presses it against the sofa.

He dives back into you and doesn’t stop. Licking and sucking like his only mission is to make you cum. You whimper starts to build when you feel yourself starting to get close. “Oh fuck baby, I’m gonna cum. That tongue of yours is going to make me cum.” You pant, grinding down onto his face. “Oh fuck! Dieter!” You cry out when your body starts to buck, cumming hard.”

He loves working you through it. His tongue lapping up every drop of cum from your weeping cunt, loving the way you cry out and he grips your hips. He tries to keep you still while he laps at your folds, working you through your orgasm.

Your body shakes and when you finally can’t take any more, you are squirming away. “Dieter - Dee- Deeeeee, please.” You beg, trying to close your legs to get away from the sweet torment. When he finally relents, you sag into the couch. “Holy fuck.”

He licks his lips and grins, cocky from the way you slump down in bliss and he caresses your thighs. “Beautiful.” He murmurs, shifting back from you and he reaches for your underwear. “Food will be here soon, babe.” He reminds you, sliding your underwear back up your legs before he tucks himself back into his pants.

“Godddd it’s gonna be so good.” You moan, reaching over for the pen again. “I feel amazing. Like completely relaxed.” You huff out a laugh. “But it’s the first time someone else has made me cum in a long time, so I’m due.”

Dieter is curious by nature. “How long has it been for you?” He asks, shifting to sit back against the sofa and taking the pen from you after you’ve taken a drag.

You look up at the ceiling, intrigued to find a very modern hexagonal pattern in the lattice between beams. It’s a nice design touch. Adding up the time, you snort. “Fuck- four years?” You guess. “Give or take a few months.”

Dieter’s eyes widen, “four - four years? Like 48 months without sex? Honey, I lose my mind if I go 48 hours without an orgasm.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “How - you’re goddamn gorgeous. You should be overwhelmed with people wanting to fuck you.”

You snort. “No, I've had an orgasm every day.” You promise him. “I just have to do it myself.” You shrug. “It’s been about two years since my last boyfriend and that fucker never made me cum.”

"Dumbass." Dieter scoffs, "taste so sweet when you cum." He blushes slightly just as the doorbell rings. "Food is here! Would you mind getting it? Saves on the 'oh my God you're Dieter Bravo’ bullshit."

You snicker and nod, reaching for his oversized t-shirt and slipping it on. “Of course, baby.” You coo before walking to the door and sashaying your hips provocatively so he can watch your ass.

He bites his lip as he watches you sway your hips. “So fucking gorgeous.” He mutters to himself as you thank the driver and take the food. He shuffles off of the sofa and walks into the kitchen, grabbing the plates he only ever uses for food he orders or gets given by other people.

You bring the food back over to the coffee table and grin when Dieter walks back in. “I ordered extra samosas.” You inform him. “I’m starving and they are soooooo good.”

"I like the way you think." Dieter winks and hands you the plate and silverware. "I'm starving." He groans at the smell and you begin to unwrap the food. "Filming really takes it out of me. All I want after is an orgasm, food, and sleep."

“Sounds like the perfect ending to any day.” You laugh and take the plates from him so you can dish up the dinner. “Although an orgasm is normally my last thing before I fall asleep.”

Dieter chuckles, “the best fucking sleep, right?” He says and you nod, dishing up your food. Dieter follows suit, dishing up his own food, piling the plate high but not as much as he used to do. He used to be able to eat way more but his metabolism has slowed down as he’s gotten older.

You sit down, folding your legs under you and pick up a samosa. “So what made you want to be an actor?” You ask, always curious and now you are getting to hang out with Dieter. “You’re obviously good at it, but what was the driving factor for you?” You take a bite of the food and moan, rolling your eyes at how good it is.

He sighs, “my mama brought me here from Chile when I was a kid. She was single. Had to work like three jobs just to pay the rent. She found an ad for a kid needed for a commercial. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to have me audition. So I went and got the gig and it went on from there. I have been acting since I was nine and it’s all I’ve ever known.”

“Oh.” You frown slightly, feeling bad for him because he didn’t have a choice. “You ever think about retiring? Doing something else?” You ask, feeling like you are prying now.

Dieter shrugs, “maybe one day. I like painting. Maybe try writing or directing. I know my days are numbered until I’m getting the ‘father of the bride’ roles.” He snorts, “every day I’m getting grayer.”

You scoff. “You’re still sexy. Haven’t you heard?” You ask, waggling your brows. “Older men are sexier longer now.”

Dieter snorts, “yeah. Until they see the back pain, the hairs growing out of my ears, and how I have to get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom.”

You laugh and wave around a piece of butter chicken on your fork. “News flash, I have to get up in the middle of the night to pee.” You tell him. “And women get chin hair starting to grow, hell, I pluck a hair off my cheek every few days.” You snort. “And nipple hair.”

Dieter’s eyes widen, “nipple hair sounds kinda hot. I won’t lie.” He confesses, picking up the samosa to take a bite. “So why are you single? Got some skeletons in your closet?” He teases, “or is everyone a fucking blind dumbass?”

You chuckle at his theory that nipple hair is sexy and shrug. “Never really go out, too busy working.” You name off a few of the reasons. “And it seems like every time I go to a club, the men are just either looking for some bombshell ditz to hang off their arm or so full of themselves that I trip over their egos.”

Dieter rolls his eyes, “men are morons. Women are definitely smarter. I mean, I know how men operate. That’s why I like fucking men too. Less complicated, but women…when you find a delicious woman who is gorgeous and sweet. Can’t beat it. I consider myself lucky that I have you tonight.” He winks and rips off some naan, handing a large piece over to you.

You hum and take the bread from him. “I’m lucky.” You argue slightly. “You’re fucking amazing, doesn’t matter that you’re Dieter Bravo.” He looks surprised, but you continue on. “You’ve had an amazing life, yes, but you’re cool. You’re a lot chiller than people would expect and you’re a talented artist.” You point to the painting on his wall.

Dieter blushes, “thank you, sugar tits.” He says, unable to be too serious, and he winks at you. “Appreciate the praise. Genuine praise. I hate being sucked up to by fake fuckers.” He confesses, taking another bite of the naan with the sauce. “Anyway, I wanna talk about us. What do you want to do after this? I wanna fuck you but if you’re not cool with that, I have some gummies and popcorn and we can chill.”

“And miss out on experiencing that gorgeous dick of yours inside me?” You snort, rolling your eyes. “Baby, I’m high, not stupid.”

Dieter chuckles, “well then, eat up. You’ll need your energy for me to fuck you because I am not letting you out of my bed…unless you want to leave.” He adds. Dieter is all about consent and making sure everyone is enjoying themselves.

You laugh like what he’s said is hilarious and fork up another bite of the chicken and hold it out for him to have. “You need to eat too, old man.” You tease. “I’m going to fuck you until you pass out.”

“Promises, promises.” He teases and takes another bite of his butter chicken. “I am gonna hold you to that.” He nudges you as the movie you put on continues to play. He doesn’t care about that now. Too busy focusing on you.

“When was your last physical?” You ask. “I’m- I’ve not been with someone in a long time and if you’re clean….” You shrug. “I have an IUD but I understand if you want to use a condom. I would in your situation. Never know when some crazy bitch is gonna try to baby trap you.”

He nods, “oh trust me. It wasn’t reported but that’s happened a couple of times. I always use protection but you…I trust you. I am clean. I got tested last month and I haven’t been with anyone…too busy filming. I never get too crazy when I’m filming. I trust you. I want to cum inside of you.” He says, his dark eyes meeting yours.

You somehow doubt that Dieter doesn’t get crazy, although he seems like he’s changed since that Cliff Beasts 6 debacle. You shiver slightly at the raw want in his tone and imagine that he likes to play with his cum once he’s filled a partner. “Then I want to feel every raw inch of your cock driving into me.”

He groans, food forgotten. He was nearly finished anyway. He sets his plate down and reaches down to squeeze his hardening cock through his sweats. “Fuck me, you’re perfect.” He whispers, eyes wide as he looks at you in awe.

“And you’re a horn dog.” You tease, setting your own plate down and pulling his shirt over your head to toss it off and pick up the pen. “I’m going to find your room so I can get fucked in your bed.” You tease, swaying your hips as you stroll towards the stairs. “Come get me.”

Dieter grins, shoving his sweats down his legs after he stands up from the sofa. He looks back at the food, not caring if it’s left, he just wants you. He chases you up the stairs, a little slower than he used to use up them, especially after food. He finds you in his room, already spread out on the bed and the pen in your hand. “Wanna paint this. Paint you.” He admits as he wraps his fingers around his cock, slowly jerking his length as he hardens while eying your tits.

“Maybe I’ll pose for you.” You inhale another hit and smile lazily as you blow it out. “Do you want the painting to have my cunt cum filled or waiting to be fucked?” You ask, spreading your legs and showing him your wet folds.

“Definitely cum filled. Like a Twinkie.” He says seriously, making you giggle. He steps closer to the bed, kneeling on the edge and he reaches for the pen. “You ready for me, or you need me to finger that tight little hole?” He asks, wanting to make sure you’re comfortable.

“Fuck.” You groan, reaching up and squeezing your tit as you watch him take another hit. You will have to replace the cartridge but tonight is worth it. “You have such fucking big hands.” You bite your lip. “But I’m going to want you inside me right now.” You admit. “Might want to feel it tomorrow if you fuck me right.”

“Then it will be me giving you a massage.” He says as he waggles his eyebrows and tosses the pen onto his nightstand. He pushes your thighs apart a little more so he can kneel between them, gripping his cock. He slides the head between your folds, loving the way you moan for him when he nudges your clit, then he slides his cock lower and starts to push into you.

Your mouth drops open and it’s a struggle to keep your eyes from rolling back as he starts to slide inside of you. Feeling better than any toy you’ve used in the past couple of years and stretching you out deliciously. “Oh fuck, Dieter.” You moan, hand drifting up to his shoulder. “You- fuck, you feel so good. That dick is- fuck.” Your walls clench down around him and you giggle when he curses.

His hands trail along your waist as he pushes into you until he’s fully inside of your hot, wet cunt. “Jesus Christ.” He hisses, his hands squeezing your tits as he looks down at you. “Like a goddamn velvet glove.” He murmurs, exhaling shakily to try and control himself.

You whine at his filthy praise, loving how raspy he gets as he grinds into you even more and lets you adjust. You bring your leg up to drape over his hip and it sends him deeper inside you. “Fuck, your cock is huge.” You moan. “I can feel you in my stomach.”

He shifts to rest his weight on his elbows, rocking into you with a groan. “Cos you’re so tight.” He hisses as you rock your hips up to meet his. “So fucking good. Squeezing me already.” He pants, leaning down to kiss along your neck.

You had heard that Dieter was a good lover, maybe a bit selfish, but you are enjoying yourself. The relaxed pace is almost lethargic and yet you love every second of it. It’s almost like he’s making love to you but you don’t think of it that way. This is just a slow, sedate way to learn from each other and enjoy the sex.

He inhales the scent of your perfume mixed with the heady scent of the pen you’ve been smoking. The high curls around you both as he pushes into you. He grabs your other thigh, lifting it higher so he sinks impossibly deeper inside of you.

Moaning becomes like breathing, every time you feel him rock in and out of you, another one comes out. Your hands stroke up and down his back as he moves, sometimes pushing deep and massaging a particularly troublesome spot on his back.

“Goddamn.” He hisses when you massage his back. Your talented hands makes him feral. He wants to feel you cum around him. He lowers his hips, grinding into you, trying to find the spot that makes you cry out.

You squeal when he pushes deep and your entire body jerks in pleasure. “Oh fuck!” You moan, scratching his back accidentally. “That’s- fuck, that’s so good.”

He repeats the action, wanting you to cum for him. The pleased look on your face makes him twitch inside of you. “There?” He asks and you nod, your hands sliding down to his ass to push him deeper. “That’s it, baby. That’s it. Want you to cum for me.”

There is something about sex while you are high that is just amazing. You feel everything so much more vividly, or at least you think you do. Your entire body is relaxed and maybe that helps you not worry about cumming, you aren’t thinking about anything but the way he feels inside you. “So good, so deep.” You whine, kissing along his shoulder.

He hisses when you playfully nip at his skin. “That’s it. Jesus, so good. Want you to cum for me.” He repeats, desperate to feel you soak his cock. His hips adjust again, pressing his pelvis to your clit to add friction.

It doesn’t take much longer at that angle for him to make you cum. One more thrust after your body twitches sends you over the edge with a loud moan of his name. “Deeeeeiter.” You cry, cunt spasming around his cock in an intense orgasm that spirals pleasure through your core.

He grunts when you clench down around his length, making him hiss your name. “Fuck fuck fuck.” He pants, working you through it even with you squeezing him like a vice. He pulls out of you after you relax beneath him, wanting to make this last. “Hands and knees.” He orders, gently slapping your thigh.

You whine, reluctant to flip over but you do. Head down on the bed and you wiggle your ass at Dieter. “Are you going to cum?” You ask breathlessly.

“Going to but I want to watch your ass jiggle before I make you cum again. Then I’ll cum.” He promises, pumping his cock. He shuffles closer and notches his cock at your entrance, pushing into you with a groan.

You grunt in pleasure, eyes slipping closed and you could lay right like this for the rest of the night with his cock pumping into you. It actually sounds like heaven. “Fuck. You feel even bigger like this.”

He caresses your back as you stretch out and he slides his hand down to smack your ass. “Feel so fucking good.” He groans, pushing into you.

You cry out softly, enjoying the slight sting. “Again.” You gasp out. “Slap my ass again, baby, please.”

He repeats the action again, loving the way you cry out his name and your walls flutter around him. “Good girl.” He coos, “taking me so well.” He praises you and caresses your back.

Your fingers twist into his silk sheets and you push back against his thrusts, wanting to make sure he also enjoys himself after making you cum so hard.

“That’s it. Shit. Squeezing me like - fuck. So good.” He moans, his jaw dropping and his earring swings against his earlobe as he picks up the pace. “Jesus.” He hisses, “so wet.”

You moan softly, pushing back against him again and squeezing him tight when you clench. You love that he is so unabashed in his love of sex. Of the physicality of it. “Cum for me baby.” You gasp out. “Fill me up.”

“No. No. Want - need you to cum again.” He pleads, snaking his hand beneath you to find your clit. He desperately wants you to cum for him. He needs you to clench down on his cock then he will fill you up.

You moan, eyes rolling back as his thick fingers find your swollen clit and he begins to rub frantic circles around it. Almost too rough to feel good, your body responds to it anyway, keyed up from the previous orgasms and your entire body lurches in pleasure as you shout.

His eyes roll into the back of his head as he pushes deep into you while you clamp down around his cock. His fingers rubbing your clit for a little longer to extend your orgasm before it becomes too much for him. He groans, dropping his hand from your pussy to grab your hips, keeping you still and upright as he thrusts into you. His jaw is clenched, grunts escaping his lips as he seeks his own orgasm and after a half dozen thrusts, it happens. He pants, jaw open as the climax hits him and he paints your walls with his hot cum. “Fuckkkkk” escapes his lips in a low and long groan.

The heat of his spend fills you, making you moan as he pumps wave after wave of his cum into you. Painting your walls like he had painted the orgy downstairs. “Oh god.” You whimper, eyes rolling back. “That - you’re so good baby, so fucking good.”

He grunts, working himself through his orgasm until he slumps over you. Cock twitching still inside of you, he kisses along your skin and moans your name softly. “Fucking perfect.” He murmurs, “so fucking perfect.” He sighs as he fully relaxes for the first time in forever. Between your massage, the weed, and your pussy, he’s ready for bed.

“Yes, you are.” You tease, giggling slightly as you are sprawled under him. Pretty soon you will have to go home, although you’ve smoked more than you should and will have to call an Uber. “God, I feel so relaxed.” You hum. “I’m going to go right to bed when I get home.”

"Stay." Dieter murmurs, exhausted and he doesn't want you to go. "Stay with me and you can leave in the morning. I- I don't want to be alone." He confesses, "don't- I don't want to be alone."

Your heart melts and you sigh softly, wishing you could reach back and stroke his back or hair. “I’ll stay.” You promise. “I’ll stay with you. You don’t have to be alone.”

He kisses your back, knowing he shouldn't get too attached but this is what he does. He latches on until the person pushes him away and ultimately leaves him. You will do that too so he will take what he can get. He sighs and pulls out of you, shuffling off of the bed to grab the rags he has prepared in the nightstand. He hands it to you and you snort when you see the towel. "You had 'Dieter's Cum' engraved on your towels?" You ask and he chuckles, "I got too much money."

“Yes, you do.” You laugh as you clean up and look around for a basket to toss it in. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” You ask. “Need to pee after you destroyed my insides,” you tease.

Dieter chuckles and flops down on his bed, pushing his hair back from his face as he relaxes into his plush mattress. "Fuck me." He murmurs to himself, knowing he wants this to become a regular occurrence.

You laugh as you disappear into the doorway that you hope is his en-suite. “I just did.” You throw over your shoulder. “Don’t tell me you’re ready for round two?”

He shakes his head, "too old for that. Maybe ten years ago, I'd be getting it up for you again." He calls out and closes his eyes, folding his arms behind his bed.

His bathroom is massive and stunning in a modern way. The bathtub makes you moan, imagining riding Dieter in it or just soaking. You go to the bathroom and smirk when you see that Dieter is already asleep. You pick up his t-shirt and slip it on before leaving the room. You had left the food in the living room and it needs to be put away.

Dieter is out when you come back into his room, and you slide under his expensive duvet, passing out not long after you get settled. You curl around him in your sleep and he sighs as he breathes you in, at peace.

****

“Holy fucking shit, that’s it right there, baby!” Dieter groans loud enough that the entire lot hears him. His groan is caused by your talented hands and he hisses when you dig the palms of your hands into his muscles.

You laugh quietly, amused by his reaction, but you target that spot. It’s tense and you want to tell Dieter that he needs to find a good chiropractor as well. Not that you don’t love massaging him everyday, but you can tell that his back is in need of a good adjustment. “That good, baby?” Your use of the affection is much quieter, aware that Dieter wouldn’t want it known that he was fucking his masseuse.

"Soooo fucking good." He groans, "so fucking good." He repeats as you work his sore back. You've been massaging him for a couple of months now, sleeping with him for nearly as long and he hasn't even thought about going with another person. You hang out with him in the evenings, coming to his home, and eating dinner with him. "You want - fuck - Chinese food tonight?" He asks you.

You hum, knowing that he has another scene he has to get in the can tonight. “You’re going to be later.” You remind him. “What if….how do you feel about your maid letting me in and I cook?” You have been dreaming of cooking in his kitchen, but haven’t wanted to overstep. “If you want me to wait for you, I understand.”

Dieter raises his eyebrows at the thought of a home cooked meal. "Sounds good to me, honeybuns. You cook what you want. Use my card to buy the shit." He orders and groans when you push on his lower back. He got you a card to use for the food delivery. He trusts you, knowing you wouldn't risk your job in this town.

“My treat.” You insist, knowing that Dieter is used to others using him and casually insisting on him paying, but since the first night, he’s not let you pay for a meal. You can fix him one meal and pay for the ingredients. “You can come home and relax.” You promise. “Dinner will be waiting.” Your grin, which he can’t see, is teasing. “Maybe another massage in your future.”

“With a happy ending?” He asks, eyes hopeful as he lifts his head to look at you. “With a guaranteed happy ending.” You promise and he grins, “that’s why I fucking love you.” He says offhandedly, groaning when you dig your fists into his back.

Your eyes widen slightly and you try not to read anything into it. Dieter is affectionate and cuddly, but you know he doesn’t mean it. You just stay quiet and continue to work his back over. “Do you want me to spend the night?” You’ve started carrying an overnight bag in your car everyday.

“Of course.” He snorts as he stares at the carpet of his trailer. “Wanna try that new toy on you. The one I ordered last week?” He smirks, cock twitching at the thought of seeing it inside of you

You have been so surprised by the sexual exploration. You had imagined that he’s seen it all and done it all, but there are always new ways for him to make sex fun. “That sounds good.” You hum. “I’ll go over after I get done with you here and pick up the groceries.”

“Sounds good, baby.” He sighs, closing his eyes. He’s honestly never been more relaxed in both body and mind. You’ve proven to be the secret weapon in him channeling the role to provide the director with the performance of a lifetime.

****

“Fuck….Deeeeee.” You squirm, wanting to close your thighs but it would just add to the sensation. “It’s- it’s not as good as your cock.” You whine, looking up at him for mercy as he smirks down at you.

“You can give me one more.” He tuts, looking down at where the toy is disappearing inside of you. “Come on baby. One more then I’ll give you what you want. I’ll fuck you hard if you beg for it.” He promises, working the toy into your pussy.

Whoever said Dieter only cared about himself in bed was a fucking liar. He’s greedy, he’s gluttonous but he loves making you cum for him. Getting high on the pride that your cries give him. “Baby, I can’t.” Shaking your head, you try to rock your hips up. “Need you. Need your cock.”

“You can. You can do it. Come on, cum again for me, sweet cheeks.” He pleads, “want to see it one more time on the toy.” He curls the toy inside of you, working it a little faster.

He is so demanding. Making you bite your lip and your eyes flutter closed as he pushes your body closer to the edge. “Dee- Dieter.” You pant quietly, fingers curling into the sheets.

“Fuck yes. Always so pretty when you cum.” He groans, leaning in to kiss along your neck as you clamp down on the toy. “Love seeing you like this. You relax me so much. Want to do the same for you.” He murmurs, biting down on your earlobe.

You whine, he has discovered your love of biting and he uses it every chance he could. Shuddering and shivering as you continue to cum around the toy. “Dee, baby, I need you. I need you to fuck me.” You beg. You are addicted to him, honestly falling for him and wanting this all the time.

He slowly pulls the toy out of you and he shifts to kneel between your legs. “How do you want me?” He asks, biting his lip as he grips his cock and slides the leaking head through your folds. He nudges your clit and loves the way you gasp with sensitivity.

“Filling me up.” You moan, lifting your leg and sliding it along his hip. “Want to feel you tomorrow when I’m rubbing your back.”

He can’t deny you, loving the way you moan as he rubs your clit. He takes pity on you a few moments later, sliding his cock down and pushing into you in one thrust. Groaning your name at the way you grip him already, so wet from your precious orgasms.

“Fuck!” You squeal, walls clenching down around him and your legs wrapping around his waist. “So big, you always beat the toys.”

Dieter grins cockily, shifting your body up so he can lift your legs onto his shoulders. You’re quite flexible and he loves twisting you around. “Good. Wanna - wanna be better than the toys. Keep you cumming on my cock over and over again.” He declares as he pushes into you with a groan.

“You just- you say that because I cooked you dinner.” You chuckle breathlessly. After you had left the set, you had stopped by the grocery store and Maria, his housekeeper, had let you in. It had been very domestic, cooking for the actor and you had loved how he had raved about the home cooked meal and even had seconds.

"Best way to a man's heart." He teases without thinking too much about his words. He leans in to press his lips to yours, sloppily sliding his tongue into your mouth as you cross your ankles behind his back.

You whine, loving how he is folding you over. The man had been practically giddy when he had learned how flexible you are and it had been a bit of a work in progress, but you had gotten him to stretch with you. He had said it was just your hands that make his back feel better, but the stretches you have him doing with you in the mornings you stay over also help. You kiss him back, wondering once again if it's a slip of the tongue, or if Dieter is trying to tell you something without saying the words. You caress his back and love how he throbs deep inside you, knowing that as soon as he starts to move, you are going to be screaming his name.

He rocks his hips, pushing into you, and you moan into his mouth. “That’s it baby. That’s it. Fuckkkk.” Dieter groans against your chin as he pulls back slightly. His hips rocking again until they press against your ass. It’s so fucking good. The way you take him, whatever he gives you. More intoxicating than any drink or drug he’s ever tried.

You’re going to miss this when he gets bored, when he finds another shiny thing or person to capture his attention. You think it’s because of proximity. You’ve seen it amongst crew and actors before. For now, you soak up the pleasure greedily. “More baby.” You beg, gasping out as he pushes deep. “Love it.”

He loves the way you beg for more, rocking into you a little faster, shifting you so you are bent over even more. His hips slapping against your ass as he fucks you hard, grunts escaping his lips as he rocks into you with one mission only: to make you orgasm.

Dieter fucks you like nothing else in the world exists. You love the blown out look of his eyes, focused on you. The grunts and pants as he works himself deep into your gasping cunt and feeling him twitch when you spasm around him. “Fuck!”

“Jesus.” He hisses, “fucking - shit - yes. Want you to cum for me. Wanna feel that pussy soak my cock. Wanna feel you cream.” He demands, rocking into you even faster, truly fucking you hard and fast.

You squeal and cry out every time his cock punches into you. Toes curling as you take every harsh thrust and love it. “D-D-Deeeeeeee!” You scream his nickname and soak his cock when you finally cum, slashing your cum up onto his stomach from how hard you break.

“Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.” He hisses, “that’s - shit. You’ve soaked me.” He groans in surprise and he works you through it. “Fuck baby.” He hisses, the sound of your sopping pussy echoes in the bedroom, his hips smacking your wet skin. “Oh shit. I’m gonna cum.” He admits, knowing he won’t last when you squirted all over him.

“Cum- fuck, fill me up.” You might have developed a cum kink with Dieter, loving having him drip out of you. If it weren’t for you keeping things professional on set, you would beg him to fill you up during his lunch.

“Yes. I’m gonna - I’m gonna - oh fuck.” He groans, pushing deep inside of you as he starts to spill against your fluttering walls. “Shitttt.” He hisses while he twitches inside of you, “so fuck- fucking good.”

You look up at Dieter, watching his face as he cums. He looks so good with his face relaxed in bliss. “That’s it baby.” You coo softly. “Fuck you feel so good.”

He rocks through it until he slumps above you, his face buried in your neck. “Thank fuck they hired you to massage me. Best damn decision ever.” Dieter mumbles into your skin, making you chuckle.

You hum quietly and run your fingers through his hair. “I think so.” You agree softly. “Are you tired now?” You ask. “You have an early call time, right?”

Dieter nods, grunting as he pulls out of you. “Gotta clean up first. You soaked me. You squirted like that before?” He inquires, a smirk on his face.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “No, but no one has folded me over like a fucking box with a dick as big as yours.” You huff, knowing he will love that.

Dieter grins, waggling his eyebrows as he shuffles off the bed to get you another one of his embroidered towels. “Just want to treat you right, baby.” He winks.

“Best sex I’ve ever had.” You admit easily. “And it doesn’t hurt that you are sweet.” It’s honestly surprising how sweet he is, but he is sometimes thoughtless, like all people.

He cleans you up and wipes himself off since you came all over his torso, and he tosses the towel across the room, holding his arm out for you to curl around him. He doesn’t want you to go home, he thinks that maybe he doesn’t want you to go home at all.

Most nights you spend in Dieter’s bed. You haven’t slept at your place in nearly two weeks and even then, Dieter had come over and stayed with you. “This is my favorite place to sleep.” You hum as you fold yourself into that space.

Dieter claps to turn off the lights and wraps his arm around you, leaning in to kiss your hair and he closes his eyes. He feels like his house has finally become a home and that terrifies him.

****

“So are you seeing anyone?” You try not to seem annoyed at the up and coming actor. He's sweet and it’s not like you’ve advertised you are with Dieter. “Yeah, um, I practically live with my boyfriend.” You explain, shrugging almost apologetically as you hand him one of your business cards. You are only here for Dieter but drumming up more business was never bad.

Dieter is behind you as you declare he’s your boyfriend and his heart stops. “Can we talk?” He asks you, and you nod, following him to his trailer. He shuts the door and spins around, “what the actual fuck? You just called me your boyfriend to some random. Do we - the fucking NDA?” He balks, “I can’t believe- are you looking for a free ride or something? You’ve practically moved in with me.”

You frown, mouth dropping open and you feel like you’re being attacked. “Dieter, I didn’t- I didn’t name you.” You try to remember exactly what you said when he’s glaring at you like you just gave an interview to The Sun. “I-I-I didn’t-“ Dieter scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You didn’t what? Say that you practically live with me?” He challenges and you shake your head. “No- I mean, yes, I did but I didn’t mean it like that.” You defend pitifully.

“So how did you mean it? I didn’t - I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t want you to become - Oh my fucking God. I can’t - you told some rando. Who else are you telling? Are you - are you doing some kind of exposé or some shit?”

“What? No!” You’re deeply offended by the mere idea of betraying him like that. “I said I had a boyfriend because he was trying to ask me out.” You hiss. “I don’t fuck someone else when I’m banging you.”

“What the fuck? I can’t - Jesus. I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have trusted you. I shouldn’t have trusted anyone.” He hisses at himself and he shakes his head, wanting to get high to forget about this bullshit.

You don’t know what the hell is going on and you don’t like the way Dieter is looking at you. “I haven’t done anything, Dee.” You reach out for him, but he jerks back, pulling away from you like you will infect him with something. You stop, hand outreached and drop it down by your side. “I- what does that mean?”

“You’re gonna sell my stories to the paper. Like the last girl did. That’s why I don’t give my heart away. I don’t - fuck. I shouldn’t have gotten so involved with you.” He chokes, shaking his head.

You can’t even form a response, feeling your heart break that he would believe that after all this time. Every damn day spent together and he would believe that? You bite your lip and move over to the massage table that is still standing in the same spot that it had been left over a month ago and you start to break it down.

Dieter stumbles over to his dresser, pulling out a baggie and he shoves two pills in his mouth, swallowing them dry. He watches you break down the table and he feels so stupid for thinking you might want him for more than his money, his sex appeal.

It’s hard to not cry, but you don’t want Dieter to think that it’s crocodile tears to get back into his good graces. You can’t believe that he’s doing this, that he acts like he doesn’t know you at all. The table is packed away into the bag and your candles and oil tucked into your purse. “Anything else, Mr. Bravo?” You ask tightly, knowing that you’re obviously going to be released from your contract.

He doesn’t answer you, just stares as blankly as he can manage even though he feels like he’s gonna be sick. He’s overreacted and he doesn’t realize it now but he will later when he’s struggling to sleep because he sent away the best thing that’s happened to him in so many years.

Walking out of Dieter’s trailer is horrible, waiting to say something else, but you can’t. You had fallen in love with him and he didn’t trust you. Making it to your car and storing the table in the trunk before you drive home on autopilot, sobbing when you pull up to Dieter’s house and have to drive another thirty minutes to actually go to your little used apartment.

Dieter arrives home and immediately reaches for the stash of drugs he has accumulated since he’s been sleeping with you. He found that he didn’t need them as much. He’s been…happy. To hear you say he’s your boyfriend terrified him. He hasn’t belonged to anyone for so long. He hasn’t had to commit and any sign of long term scares him off. He’s not ready to lose you and he scoffs at that thought. He already has.

Your apartment is dusty. You wince when you see that everything looks neglected and you’re pretty sure that there’s spoiled food in the fridge. You still don’t know why Dieter was so upset when you didn’t mention him by name, you wouldn’t have done that. Even without the NDA. Sighing to yourself, you drag a trash can over to the fridge to start cleaning it out so you can order food. After that, you’ll clean your apartment and figure out if you left anything over at the actor’s house.

Dieter isn’t sure how many days it’s been since he saw you last. He’s spiraling. Showing up to the studio high was the last straw and the director threatened to fire him if he didn’t get his shit together. His manager and assistant sit him down in his trailer and ask what the fuck is going in. “I miss her.” He sobs, “I- I want her back.”

“Who?” The manager is completely confused, not sure what the hell is going on. Dieter hasn’t been dating anyone. “Anika? She’s gone back to London, Dee.” He reminds the actor. “You said she didn’t want the same things you did.”

“No. No. Not Anika. Herrrr.” He sobs and his manager frowns, looking to his assistant for any insight. “Ohhh.” His assistant turns to look at his manager and he says your name. “The masseuse?” His manager frowns and Dieter sobs harder, “I want her back.”

“She’s under contract.” There is a particular kind of attitude that comes with Hollywood managers. “She hasn’t been showing up? I’ll sue her. She is contracted to finish out this movie as your masseuse.” He snorts. “She fucked up. This will ruin her reputation. She’ll be massaging walk-ins in a strip mall.”

“I- I sent her away. I fired her because - because I think I’m in love with her and that terrified me. I can’t. I can’t - oh shit. She’s gone because of me. I want her back. I need to get her back.” He scrambles for his keys, needing to find you and tell you he needs you.

“Whoa, whoa.” Holding out his hand, Dieter’s manager looks over at his assistant. “Do you know what the fuck is going on?” He asks, not used to seeing Dieter like this before. He went through relationships and flings like most people went through socks. “He and the masseuse were having sex.” Not that you told him, he could just tell from the way his boss was acting. He would never even tell that he had dropped off some papers one night and witnessed you and Dieter in his pool. His boss’s business was his own. “I have to give it to her, no one on set had a clue.”

Dieter is sobbing as he finds his keys, wiping his eyes. "I need to find her." He chokes, "I need her." He admits to himself and his team while he's in a spiral thinking he's lost you forever. He turns to his manager, "she didn't - I begged her to have sex with me and now - now I've lost her because I was scared. I gotta find her." He shoves his feet into his crocs and makes his way out of his trailer without a glance back as he tries to find you.

The past two weeks have been miserable, making you miss the set, the people that you had become friends with. Mostly, you missed Dieter. You had so quickly fallen for him, even if you hadn’t realized it at the time. Winding him through your entire day until you were thrown away. You’ve been sulking, but you can’t stay inside your house another minute, booking yourself your own massage and slowly getting ready for your appointment.

Dieter drives to your place, having found it in his GPS history, and he pulls up outside. His stomach is twisting and he feels sick. "Fuck." He mutters to himself as he gets out of the car and makes his way to your front door, knocking on it and shifting awkwardly in his crocs.

Frowning, you pick up your bag and move to the door, wondering who is knocking. You had ordered groceries last night. “Dee?” You gasp in shock when you see the actor standing in your doorway. “What are you- what do you want?” You ask, holding the door and looking around your landing. You know that if he flipped out about mentioning a boyfriend, he wouldn’t want to be spotted here at your apartment again.

"Oh thank God you're here." He says and pushes into your place. "I - I fucked up." He admits, shaking his head. "Did you leave something here?" You ask with a frown. "Yeah. My heart. You took it with you. I don't want it back. I want you. I shouldn't have freaked out but I can't - everyone leaves me eventually and I pushed you away so I didn't have to be the one rejected. I love you. I - shit - I want to be your boyfriend."

You frown and shake your head. “Dieter, you told me to go. Accused me of betraying you by selling your story, of being some kind of gold digger.” You have worked your way round to upset now that he’s in front of you.

"I know. I - I'm fucked up. I can't - I don't want to lose you but I think - I already have, haven't I?" He murmurs, his eyes sad as he stares at you.

“Why?” You ask quietly. “Why didn’t you believe me? I- Dieter I never said anything to anyone about what we had. I never will.” You promise him. “I- loved spending time with you.” You admit, tears starting to build in your eyes. “And I honestly had just realized that I spent all my time at your house, like I had moved in.”

“I freaked out. I’ve been screwed over more times than you’d think by people who abused my status, wanting to use me and I- I panicked and thought maybe you were using me because there’s no way someone as incredible as you would actually want me.”

You snort and shake your head. “Me? You’re Dieter fucking Bravo. You’ve done things and won Oscars.” You huff. “But I don’t care if you are famous. I care that you’re cool. I love spending time with you.” You admit, biting your lip. “I love you.”

His eyes widen at your confession and he blinks several times as if he’s trying to process your admission. “Then it’s a good fucking thing I love you too.” He declared dramatically and surges forward to cup your cheek, his forehead pressed against yours. “I’m messed up, baby. I got more issues than Time magazine. You gonna want to put up with my shit?” He asks, his gaze dipping down to your lips.

You snort and shake your head. “I don’t mind your issues.” You hum and wrap your arms around him. “They aren’t bad. But talk to me. I’m on your side and I will always make sure that you are okay with something I do that could affect you. Personally or professionally.”

Dieter pulls you close with his other arm, his fingers caressing your cheek and he slowly leans in to press his lips to yours. The kiss is slow, unlike anything he’s ever done before honestly. He’s never felt like this and it’s intoxicating to know you want him. Even the ugly parts of him he tries to hide from the world.

Your fingers tangle into his hair and you let him take the lead. Giving his all as he kisses you and you respond in kind. Eyes slipping closed as you smile and feel your heart mending.

He groans, his hands sliding down to squeeze your waist. His tongue sliding against yours and he loves the way you lean into him. “I love you.” He murmurs when he pulls back, “come home with me.”

“Are you sure?” You ask softly. It’s not that you don’t want to believe that’s what he wants, but you don’t want him to feel like you’re taking advantage of him.

“Yes. I don’t want to sleep at night without you next to me.” He promises, his hands sliding lower to squeeze your ass. “And I want to fuck you. Want you to cum for me.”

You moan softly, cunt clenching and already starting to get wet just thinking about that. “I’ve missed you.” You promise. “The toys are never as good as you are.”

“No flesh tight could squeeze me like you do.” He promises as he waggles his eyebrows. “Missed you. Missed your sweet little pussy. I want - I need you right now.” He murmurs, kissing your jaw.

You giggle quietly and tilt your head to the side. “Did you come find me because you are horny?” You tease, knowing that it wouldn’t take much to find someone to fuck.

“Not just because of that.” He says defensively and you chuckle. “I want you. All of you. Your heart. Your mind. Your soul. Your pussy.” He smirks, reaching down to cup you through your leggings.

“Then why don’t you go get in my bed, Bravo?” You order with a grin, suppressing a moan when he presses against your clit. “I want to ride that stupidly handsome face of yours.”

He grins, wide and so fucking happy at the way you accept him and love him. He's so happy he didn't lose you to his stupidity. "Yes ma'am." He salutes after he pulls his hand away from your clit. He strips his threadbare shirt off and rushes into your bedroom, eager to touch more of you. He shoves his sweatpants down and his crocs go flying as he kicks them off and jumps on your bed.

You can’t help but laugh when you hear the mattress springs squeak. Undressing as you walk down the hall, you are treated to the sight of Dieter with his hand wrapped around his hard cock and you moan. “You look so good like that.”

Dieter smirks, watching you shove your panties down your legs as he squeezes his cock. "Come sit on my face so I can make you cum. Wanna taste you again." He demands, whining slightly.

“So impatient.” You chide. “I’m - oh shit, hang on.” You turn around and dart out of the room to call the masseur you had booked to let them know you weren’t going to be able to make it.

“Babyyyyy.” Dieter whines when you disappear, his cock aching and his mouth watering as he waits for you to come and sit on his face. “Come onnn.” He pleads pathetically, his feet hitting the bed as he lifts them impatiently.

“Hang on!” You call out, laughing at his petulance. “I need to cancel my appointment!” You fire off a text and know that he will charge your card for the cancellation fee, so it should be all good. Hurrying back to Dieter, you grin when you see him again. “Maybe I’ll tie you to my bed.” You tease.

Dieter nods, eyes wide. “Whatever you want to do to me, ma’am.” He promises, his cock twitching against his stomach as his gaze trails along your figure. “As long as you ride my face.” He pouts, pushing his lower lip out.

You had discovered that at times, Dieter enjoys being submissive. “Oh I’m going to, baby.” You coo. “I’ve been denied orgasms by your talented mouth, fingers and cock for two weeks.”

He is even more impatient for your pussy on his face so he sticks his tongue out as an open invitation to sit on his face. “Come on.” He mumbles with his mouth open.

You roll your eyes, even as you straddle his chest. “I love you.” You murmur, caressing his face and smirking as you shift forward to press your folds against his tongue, grabbing onto the headboard.

He groans when you settle on top of him, his tongue sliding through your folds eagerly. He wants to hear you moan for him again. His hands find your hips and he squeezes, encouraging you to take what you want.

You start to rock, moaning his name because you know how much of a praise whore Dieter is. He soaks it up like a drought parched river bed. “So good baby, missed that tongue.” You hum.

His cock dribbles pre-cum onto his belly but he doesn't give a fuck, he wants to show you how good he can be. He doesn't want to lose you. His fingers slide around to your ass, squeezing your cheeks and smacking them as you rock over his face.

“Oh fuck.” You whimper, closing your eyes and reaching down to palm your left breast. “I dreamed about you. Missed sleeping wrapped up with you. Missed touching you, massaging you.”

He loves hearing you declare that. His fingers slide into your ass crack, his index finger finding your puckered hole and he rubs it, loving the way you cry out at the new sensation.

Fucking Dieter is always filthy, your body lurching forward as his tongue slides deep into your cunt. Making you moan as his finger continues to massage your other entrance and you absolutely know he would tongue fuck you in either one depending on what you wanted. “Fuck, you’re so dirty, baby. You want my ass? I thought you missed my pussy.”

“Miss all of you.” He mumbles into your flesh, his lips caressing your clit while his finger works into your puckered hole. His tongue pushes back into your pussy, groaning at the tangy taste of your arousal and he desperately wants you to cum.

You whine and roll your hips, grinding down onto his tongue. “Dee, you are so fucking good baby.” You praise breathlessly, feeling so good as he pushes his finger works down to the knuckle.

He slides his tongue up to suck on your clit, loving the way you grind your cunt onto his face. Your thighs squeezing his head and his free hand comes up to cup your tit, pinching your nipple.

You gasp out, never surprised by Dieter but always overwhelmed by how desperately he wants you to cum. He’s groaning into your folds and you love it, gasping out his name again when he slides another finger into your ass

Dieter groans when you clench around his fingers, loving how unabashedly you seek your pleasure. One of the things he loves about you. His tongue is everywhere. Pushing into you, flicking against your clit. He wants you to fall apart above him.

It doesn’t take long for your thighs to burn, your core tightening in that warning of your impending orgasm. Your fingers curl around your head board tighter than before. “Dee!” You cry. “Gonna cum!”

He works harder, flicking his tongue over your clit like it’s the last thing he’s ever gonna do. He groans when you grind down onto him, thighs closing around his head and your fingers clamp down on his digits.

You close your eyes, riding the wave of pleasure as he apologizes through sex. Or maybe it’s make up sex, all you know is that it’s amazing. Making you moan and lean against the headboard when you are done, panting his name again and again.

He kisses the inside of your thighs as you relax above him. Slowly withdrawing his fingers from your ass, he sighs your name and lets you make the next move. He’s aching against his stomach but he doesn’t want to push for more when he’s the one that is apologizing.

You shuffle down, pressing your lips to his wet ones before you straddle his hips. “I haven’t slept with anyone.” You promise quietly, hoping he hadn’t either. You would need to use a condom if he had until he could be tested.

“No. I haven’t.” He promises, “I couldn’t - no one was you.” He declares and shakes his head, caressing your cheeks. “I love you. I couldn’t think about anyone else.”

“Good.” You smile down at him as you reach between you, lining yourself up to sink down on his cock slowly. Moaning when he starts to fill your aching pussy.

“Jesus fucking Christ. I’ve missed this.” He hisses as you sink down onto him and surround his cock with your slick, velvet walls. “That’s it baby. That’s - fuckkkk.” His hands find your hips, squeezing and caressing.

“Fuck, I love you.” You aren’t naive, knowing that a life with Dieter won’t be without problems and other issues in the future.

“I love you. I love you. I loveeee you.” He rambles as you start to move on top of him. His feet shuffle as you slowly work yourself on his cock. “God. Oh shit. You’re so good.” He chokes, “no one has made me feel like this before.”

You hum, smirking down at him and clenching so he whines again. He’s so responsive and you love it. Slowly rolling your hips as you feel him deep inside you. “You’re so deep, baby.” You moan.

“In your guts. Where I always wanna be.” He smirks, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he watches your tits bounce as you start to move a little faster. “Come on baby. Fuck. Ride me.” He demands, smacking your ass with his palm.

You love how Dieter stitches from needy to demanding at the drop of a hat, pressing your hands on his chest and starting to move faster. Moans pouring out of your mouth every time you slam back down on his thick cock.

“Yes yes yesss.” Dieter hisses when you rock back onto him and he reaches up to curl his fingers around your neck, dragging you down to bring your lips to his. His tongue immediately slides into your mouth.

You moan into his mouth, his tongue searching and insistent. You love kissing him and eagerly kiss him back. Grinding down on his length as you whine softly.

“That’s it baby.” He groans against your mouth, “use me. Want you to use me for your pleasure. Want you to cream all over my cock. Want you to - shit - never leave me.” He begs against your lips.

“I won’t.” You promise quietly, pulling back to stare into his eyes. “I’m yours, baby, I’m right here.” You know that he could leave, throw you out down the road, but you will promise this to him now.

“Never want you to go. Never want to lose you. I - shit - I love you, baby. So much. So fucking much. You get me. You know me. Even - even my bullshit.” He hisses as you clench around him, “love you.”

“Love you too, baby.” You smile as you kiss him again, knowing that he will cum soon.

****

“Dieter! Dieter! Who is your date!” You clutch his arm and try not to look too dazed by all the flashing cameras and people shouting. He makes this look easy and his charming laugh captures your attention so you look back at him, hair slicked back and his smirk proud as he puffs up in his tailored suit.

“My beautiful date is the love of my life. This movie was made because she kept my mind, my soul, my heart, and my body in perfect condition. She’s everything I have been looking for and I’m not letting her go.” He winks at you, “she massaged her way into my life and she’s here to stay.” He chuckles and the cameras go crazy when he leans in to kiss you. Putting the clause in his contract about having an on set masseuse was the best decision his team has ever made. Now though, that term is crossed out because he has you in his life to massage him whenever he needs. You are his personal masseuse and he is yours, whenever you want some reciprocation…although his massages always finish with a happy ending.

#ellie fic rec box #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo smut #ellie and massage fics.. tale as old as time.

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