#dieter bravo x actress!f!reader

[absurdthirst]

Hollywood Happiness {Dieter Bravo x Actress!F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: 1950's Hollywood AU, mentions of homophobia, sex clubs, hedonism, threesomes, bisexuality, orgies, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, secret relationship, secret marriage, hidden pregnancy, labor, mentions of forced abortions, traumatic births

Comments: Hired by the studio to be Dieter Bravo's co-star, you are also tasked with taming Hollywood's bad boy and keep the negative press away. Do that, and the studio will green light your passion project. Easy enough, until you fall for Dieter and end up pregnant.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| 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.

Dieter looks up from his script, his cigarette dangling between his lips until he reaches up to take it in between his fingers. His eyes appraising you as you walk in to meet him for the first time. His new co-star and the woman that’s going to be his leading lady. This motion picture is moodier, romance with a tragic ending. No dance numbers. No songs. It's a drama and what Dieter has been craving for so long. One can only tapdance in so many numbers until they can demand something more serious. This is his follow up to his Oscar win so he needs it to be good. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He says as he stands up, setting his script down to take your hand in his and press a soft kiss to the back of it. He’s hoping you aren’t one of those virginal, angelic actresses who has never seen cocaine or a naked man before. He doesn’t need to be babying you throughout this process. He wants to enjoy the production and be able to be himself…well, mainly himself. Rock walks by on his way to his own production and winks at Dieter, a shared look between “good friends” and Dieter smiles at him before turning his attention back to you. “So…what’s your story?” He asks, knowing everyone has one.

You know all about Dieter Bravo, apprised of it by the studio and exactly what you need to do in order to keep the head man happy where his star was concerned. Dieter has a problem. Nasty rumors seemed to follow him around, although it was all hearsay and the studio wanted it nipped in the bud yesterday. Dieter was rumored to be enjoying too many drugs and there are the scandalous rumors about wild orgies involving both sexes. You were brought in to make sure those rumors are squashed and their star was kept busy and out of trouble, with you. Smiling, you bat your lashes at the handsome man. “My story is one that you’ve probably heard a hundred times.” You titter slightly. “But I also have a script that I want the studio to film.” 

Dieter raises his eyebrows, surprised that you aren’t the usual Hollywood starlet they grab from some podunk town, operate on to transform them, and ensure that they have but one brain cell so they can learn their lines and blocking. You don’t seem to be the vapid, stupid actress he encounters. “A script? Perhaps you can enlighten me on the plot? Maybe I’ll be your lead one day.” He winks, noticing how pretty your eyes are and he briefly wonders what they’d look like watery while you suck his cock.

You smirk slightly and bite your lip. “It would take much too long to explain now.” You tell him. “Perhaps I can detail it to you over dinner?” You boldly ask, willing to take the opportunity to get closer to Dieter, hoping that you impress him with your boldness. 

He can’t stop the smirk that appears on his face, liking your moxie. You’re not shy and he enjoys that. He licks his lips and steps closer to you, “name the time and place, sweetheart. I’ll be there.” He promises, leaning down to snub out his smoke. He needs to change, dressing in his day suit, the one that he’s worn far too many times that the lining has holes in it but damn, it’s comfortable, and his sunglasses are perched on his head.

“Cole’s, 7 o’clock.” You insist, placing your hand on his chest and rubbing gently. “Bring a big appetite, we might close the place down.” You flirt, winking at him and then leaning in slightly to give Dieter a look down your dress.

Fuck, his cock twitches at the thought and he loves how you seem to be confident in what you want. That’s what’s been missing in other actresses he’s met. So many of them wanted to appear innocent and demure. You are sexy and he loves that. “See you at seven, baby doll.” He winks, licking his lower lip until he’s flipping his sunglasses down, “I better get to reading this script, be prepared for filming.” He says, knowing he is tempted to stay but he likes to keep a little mystery.

You watch Dieter saunter away, confident and sure as he greets other actors and actresses. You bite your lips, finding him far more interesting than you had imagined when you accepted the contract terms. Not that you had much choice if you wanted to be on screen. The studios make all the rules and you just follow them. You turn to walk towards costuming so you can be fitted to your wardrobe as the leading lady of this drama.

Dieter adjusts his evening jacket as he walks in Cole’s, the room already buzzing with conversation and the band playing in the corner. He tells the maitre d his name and he’s escorted to the private booths in the back. People look up as he walks by and he offers them a charming smile but inside he’s anxious, hating eyes on him. He swallows harshly and sits down at the booth, thanking the host who nods and leans in, “you were incredible in Hunger Strike.” He says and Dieter smiles, “thank you.” 

The man reaches into his pocket for his card and slides it to Dieter, “I’d like to show you how great I thought you were.” He murmurs and Dieter looks up at him with a smirk, “we can arrange that.” He promises with a wink and slides the card into his pocket. The man grins and walks off, Dieter watching his ass until the waiter comes over to take his drinks order.

Before you walk into the restaurant, you pull out your compact and powder your nose, checking your lipstick and hair. You are about to walk in and give the host Dieter’s name so you can actually get closer to the actor. “Be charming.” You remind yourself as you open the door and walk inside, aware that you were going to be photographed tonight.

Dieter stands up when you approach his table, a friendly smile on his face, and he takes your hand in his to press a kiss to the back of it. “You look gorgeous, baby doll.” He says, his eyes sliding along your figure and he gestures for you to sit.

“Thank you.” Your brow raises and you smirk slightly as you sit down with a clear view for Dieter down your cleavage and hum. “I have to say that the rumored charm of Dieter Bravo has not disappointed.”

He smirks as he takes his seat, picking up his whiskey, “glad to hear I don’t disappoint.” He flirts softly, knowing he’s walking a fine line when you are to be his costar for the next year. “So…who’d you fuck to get the job?” He half teases, half tests. He wonders if you’re someone looking to step on his head to get up the ladder or if you’re just that good of an actress.

You snort playfully and roll your eyes. “Who should I tell you? The director or the producer? Maybe both?” You joke and lean in. “Or maybe I got the roll on my acting skills alone? Is that the unbelievable story?” The waiter delivers a whiskey on the rocks. You order a neat whiskey with a lemon twist and smirk when the waiter rushes off, looking back at Dieter for his answer.

“Ain’t no shame in it, honey. Lord knows I’ve fucked enough people to get ahead in this business. I haven’t seen you act so I can’t say which story is the true one. Perhaps when we get on set I can ascertain which one is the reality but in the meantime, I’m gonna jerk off thinking of you getting split roasted by the director and producer.” He smirks, knowing you’ll think he’s scandalous.

You gasp, giving him the appropriate response that he is looking for. You know that he expects you to be offended, but you also know that he will be intrigued if you weren’t. Your lips twist into a smug smirk. “Isn’t that the only way to properly take two cocks?” You ask, picking up his own whiskey and taking a small sip of the liquor. “Maybe I will have to satisfy myself thinking about that tonight.”

Dieter chuckles, dirty and drawn out, and he smirks as he leans closer to you, reaching for your hand. “It appears we are going to get along just fine, baby. Tell me, have you ever been to an orgy before?” He asks, curious to see how dirty you truly are.

You tut and swat at his shoulder with your free hand playfully. “A lady never tells.” You hum and lift an eyebrow suggestively. “Discretion is the name of the game when you have fun with special friends.”

Dieter slides his foot across the floor to slide against yours, a devious grin on his face. “I can tell you and I are going to get along famously.” He hums, picking up his whiskey just as the waiter brings yours over. You order your food not long after and you and Dieter discuss the script for a bit, expanding your thoughts on your characters and the needed chemistry. “Forgive me if I speak too boldly but I think we have the chemistry down.” Dieter hums.

“I don’t think that is too bold.” You slide your foot out of your heel and rub it against his ankle. “Sometimes you just instantly know that you are going to fit well with someone.” You have flirted with him outrageously all night, but there have been some interesting conversations about the script that impressed you. Dieter is more than just a pretty face, there is a smart intellect behind those mischievous eyes.

“How do you fancy coming to a party tonight? My friend is throwing a shindig. Apparently Dean will be singing tonight.” He says and your eyes widen.

“Dean Martin?” You ask and he nods, “the one and only. Whatcha say, baby doll? Wanna come check out the Hollywood parties with me?”

How could you possibly say no to that? An evening with the top Hollywood stars? It’s exactly what you wanted and it could allow you to form some key friendships down the line. It’s not what you know in Hollywood, it’s who you know. “I say you should get the check.” You tease, biting your lip.

Dieter grins, gesturing for the waiter to come over and he quickly hands over the cash needed to pay the bill and then some. The waiter winks at him, “don’t forget to find me again.” He says and Dieter nods, “I’ll be sure to reach out.” He smirks and offers you his arm to guide you out of the restaurant and to his awaiting car.

“Are you sure that I’m the one you want to spend tonight with?” You ask as the porter opens the passenger side to allow you to step in.

Dieter scoffs, rolling his eyes, “are you fucking serious, baby? Look at you, you’re goddamn gorgeous. I’m gonna be the envy of everyone in the joint.” He assures you after he slides into the seat beside you.

You hum happily and turn so you can brush one of his curls back. “I will be the one getting the envious looks.” You coo. “I’ll be with the sexiest man there. Maybe anywhere.”

Dieter leans into your touch, almost purring as you scratch his scalp. “Fuck. Keep doing that, baby.” He pleads, his hand finding your thigh to squeeze. You’re something different and he loves it.

His plea for such an innocent touch is very revealing and you tuck it away for future speculation. “Touch a gorgeous man? My pleasure.” You assure him, keeping your hand in his hair as you lean close and kiss his cheek. “Drive baby and I’ll make you feel good.”

He nearly closes his eyes as he drives down Sunset Boulevard to the club he frequents. He pulls up and the valet takes the vehicle, opening the door for him and Dieter makes a show of rounding the car to open the door for you, holding his hand out towards you. “Welcome to Ciros.” Dieter days as he guides you inside.

Your eyes widen at the glitz and glamour of the exclusive club. “Dieter.” You gasp, clinging to him as you take it all in. Cary Grant is over in one corner, playing billiards with Jimmy Stewart, drinks on the edge of the table.

Dieter grins, loving how in awe you are of the club and he is happy you are enjoying it already. He knows he loves seeing all his fellow actors enjoying themselves and the back of the club is his particular favorite thing about this place. “You wanna get a drink?” Dieter asks, leaning in close so his lips brush your ear.

You turn towards him, so your lips are almost touching. “Whiskey, with a twist.” You tell him, looking into his lovely light brown eyes that seem to hold a thousand secrets. “Or whatever you want me to drink.”

“You have what you want to have.” He says and guides you to a booth in the back. He shuffles in and calls over the waitress, his eyes dipping down to her cleavage as he orders your drinks.  His arm is thrown over the back of the booth, his fingers playing with the strap of your dress as he leans towards you.

“So tell me about Dieter Bravo.” You coo as you run a finger down the smooth line of his jaw. “The real Dieter, not the persona”

He smirks, “the persona is the Hollywood golden boy. The real Dieter? He’s a dirty bastard. I love sex. Men, women. Both. I love sex and I love pleasure. I take drugs to numb the pain of being alone and I’m alone because I take drugs. I’m a typical Hollywood disaster and my manager and the studio desperately want me to settle and be a good boy, but that’s not me.”

“You should be you.” You pout at him, although you really mean your words. He should be free to be who he wants to be. Leaning in and kissing his chin. “Love who you want, fuck who you want.”

Dieter snorts, reaching up with his free hand to gently grip your chin, “it’s the 50’s. No one can truly be who they want to be. I couldn’t love a man, or publicly announcing that I’m fucking one. My career would be over. Just like you couldn’t be known to be anything but a perfect angelic virgin. It’s the social standard so we smile and wave and pretend but at night, we crawl to our dens of dissolute and allow ourselves the pleasures we deny during the daylight hours. It’s the life we lead and it’s fine.” He promises, leaning in to softly kiss your lips, “you understand, don’t you baby?”

Your heart aches because you know that he’s telling the truth. “I understand.” You whisper quietly, nodding as you break the kiss. “Though I believe in being happy, as much as you can be.” Hopefully he will find happiness around you and that will make your assignment easier.

He nods, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours. “We can be happy tonight if you want.” He pulls back when the waiter sets the drinks down and he pulls a note from his wallet to hand it to him. When he leaves, he turns back to you, “there’s a private area in the back. Men and women…all for our pleasure. Do you want to explore with me?” Dieter asks, raising his eyebrows with hopefully eyes while he bites his lip.

You know that the studio would prefer that he not go back to the back, but you can’t deny him. “Do you want to be split roasted or do you want to be on the giving end of split roasting me?” You ask, curious as to the answer he will give you.

Dieter’s eyebrows raise even more and he can’t stop the naughty grin that appears on his face. “Well, Jesus Christ, you are a naughty little girl.” He teases and leans in to softly kiss your ear, “I want to be on the giving end with you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how tight and wet your little cunt must be so if you want me, baby doll, I wanna fuck you and have some help to ensure you leave here high on pleasure.”

He smirks, cock already hardening, and he nods, picking up his glass to clink it against yours. “I say we better drink up and get back there.” He winks and downs the whiskey, slamming the glass down on the table then he shuffles out of the booth and holds his hand out towards you, “come on baby doll, let’s have some fun.”

You give him your hand and flash him a smile. “I’m ready to have fun with you.” You promise, biting your lip as he helps you to your feet. You curl into his embrace and look excited even though butterflies swim in your stomach.

Dieter guides you back through the throng of people and he knocks three times on the door, the peephole in the middle opens and finally the door is opened to the private rooms of the club. He winks at the doorman and takes your hand in his to guide you to the main room, full of men and women in various states of undress. Some kissing, some sucking, some fucking. It’s a den of desire and you don’t know where to look. “Okay?” Dieter asks, wanting to make sure you’re comfortable.

“There are private rooms. Let’s find a space in the observers and see who you wish to share your delicious cunt with.” Dieter suggests and guides you over to the lush seating area with large chairs. Dieter sits down and wastes no time pulling you into his lap, his hand sliding along your stocking clad leg under your skirt, “you see anyone you like?” He murmurs into your ear, pressing a kiss against your neck.

It’s hard to concentrate and look around the club as you enjoy his hand on your body. You shiver and hum speculatively as you manage to take a look at all the men and women that are milling around. You spot several famous faces and you bite your lip, cunt bottoming out when you see someone you have always admired pull off a robe and lay down on a table to let any and all touch her. You spot a man in the corner of the room, still dressed and watching as he sips a drink. “What about him?” You ask, turning and nudging your nose against Dieter’s cheek as you speak. “Have you fucked him? Does he have a nice cock?” 

Dieter smirks, “no. I haven’t. He’s nice though. Pensive. Moody. I like that. Those are the ones that fuck well. You wanna call him over?” Dieter asks, knowing the man will come over. You nod, catching the man’s eyes and you gesture for him to come over with a sultry smile. Dieter’s hand slides higher, “you excited to get fucked?” He hums into your ear, biting down on the lobe.

You moan softly, enjoying the sharp nip of his teeth. “Yes.” You admit breathlessly. “I’ve wondered what you were like in bed, watching you onscreen.” You might not have before, but it seems that he likes your answer.

The man gracefully makes his way through the gyrating crowd. Dieter pulls away from you, standing up to greet the man. "Lance." He greets the stunt man who he has seen around the studios. ‘"Bravo." He nods at Dieter, shaking his hand. 

"Have you two met?" Dieter asks, saying your name and the stunt man shakes his head. 

He reaches for your hand, bringing it to his lips, "I would definitely remember if I had met her." He winks at you after he stands up straight but keeps your hand in.

“Flatterer.” You tease, even though you find him even more handsome in person than you had from afar. “Can we buy you drink, Lance?” You ask playfully, looking over to Dieter for approval. “Have you sit down and discuss all manner of pleasurable things?” Dieter approves, the way he is leaning in to hear Lance’s answer is indicative of that.

Lance nods and Dieter gestures to the passing cocktail waitress. He orders your whiskey with a twist, his own tipple, and Lance orders a whiskey too. The waitress rushes off and Dieter shuffles down the couch, pulling you into his lap to show his possession of you while Lance sits beside you both. “So are you seeking here tonight?” Dieter asks Lance whose hand finds your knee. “I want you both.” Lance says, “I want to taste you, to fuck you.” He says and Dieter leans in to press his lips to Lance’s.

You should be discouraging the behavior that Dieter is displaying, that’s what the studio wants you to do, but you moan at the sight of the two men kissing. “Yes.” You whimper, sliding your hand into Lance’s lap and squeezing his hardening cock as you grind your as against Dieter’s. “Why don’t we find a private room?”

Lance pulls away from Dieter’s mouth to look at you, “let’s, but first.” He surges forward to press his lips to yours and Dieter groans as he watches the kiss, getting a little greedy as he surges forward to join the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours and Lance’s.

You’ve never had a kiss that involved three people but it’s intoxicating. Gasping, your tongue joins the fray and you enthusiastically kiss each of them as you massage Lance’s cock even more. You feel Dieter’s fingers pressing against your clit, making you whine softly, grinding against his hand for friction.

The kiss ends when Lance and Dieter pull back, their cocks aching, and Dieter looks up as the cocktail waitress appears, “thanks doll. We want a private room.” He says and she nods, taking the crisp bills he gives her and she tells you to follow her to the private room, she will take your drinks.

Standing, you smirk when both men need to adjust their cocks when they stand and you make sure that you sway your hips enticingly as you follow the waitress. You want both men to have their eyes fixed on your ass as they trail behind you. Feeling emboldened by their obvious lust, you walk into the private room eagerly and spin around to watch them walk on.

Dieter thanks the waitress when she sets the drinks down and she shuts the door behind her, the bed in the middle of the room is clean and made up, and there’s chairs and a small bathroom attached. “Now, where were we?” Dieter smirks, picking up his whiskey. 

“We were talking about pleasure.” Lance says and you smirk, fingering the buttons of your dress. “Are you gonna give us a show, baby girl?” Dieter asks, sitting down on the foot of the bed while Lance sits in the nearby chair.

You hadn’t anticipated stripping in front of them, but the excitement in Dieter’s eyes has you nodding, but you smirk slightly. “Both of you take something off first, then I will.” You tease, flicking open the first button of your dress and revealing more of your cleavage.

Dieter chuckles, liking your moxie again, and he shrugs off his jacket, working on his tie and the buttons of his shirt so he is shirtless, his slacks still on. Lance follows suit, shrugging off his blazer and he sits back down on the bed, his chiseled chest on display..

Dieter groans, his fingers twitching at how gorgeous you are. A true movie star. Beautiful and so fucking sexy. He hisses your name and Lance swallows harshly, cock throbbing in his pants. “Are you going to show us what’s beneath that pretty brassier?” He asks and Dieter shakes his head. “We should assist.” He says as he sets his whiskey down and stands up, kneeling down in front of his knees so he can reach out to unclip your stocking, slowly rolling it down your leg until he removes your heel and the silk.

“Dieter.” You whisper as his lips graze your thighs. It’s hedonistic and thrilling to feel both men’s eyes on your body and know that despite they want each other, they also want you. Your core is throbbing and you crook your finger towards Lance suggestively. “You want to remove it, baby?” You coo.

He nods, “I’ll take it off.” He steps behind you, placing soft kisses to the nape of your neck as his fingers work on removing your bra. “So fucking beautiful.” He murmurs, kissing along your neck and he tosses your bra aside so he can cup your tits. Dieter has rolled your other stocking down and is pressing his nose to your underwear, groaning at the heady scent of you before he mouthes at your cunt through the silk.

You feel deliciously cared for and moan when Dieter’s hot breath washes over your covered cunt. “Do you do that?” You lean back against Lance and tangle your fingers into Dieter’s curly hair. “Eat a woman’s cunt?” He’s mentioned sucking a cock, but perhaps he is like most men who find a cunt unappealing to lick. It was hypocritical of them in your opinion, but you also never insisted.

Dieter snorts, pulling back to look up at you. “Are you fucking kidding me, baby doll? I love pussy. I love eating pussy.”  He promises and hooks his fingers in your panties so he can pull them down, his face soon buried in your cunt as his tongue slides through your folds. “Fuck you taste good.” He groans while Lance pinches your nipples.

“Fuck, Dieter.” His name is a sob on your lips as he manages to make your entire body shake. You turn your head and kiss Lance’s jaw as he palms your tits and makes you feel like you are the star of your own show. “Feel even better inside.”

Dieter doesn’t deny you, grabbing your leg to lift your thigh onto his shoulder so he can slide his tongue inside of you, his nose pressing against your clit. “Fuck, does she taste good?” Lance asks and Dieter pulls back to smack his lips, “she’s fucking delicious.” He groans, diving back in.

“Oh fuck.” You moan, turning and pressing your lips to Lance’s desperately. Wanting to do more than just take from the men. Your hand slides down behind you and you fumble with the zipper of Lance’s slacks. Desperate to pull his hard cock out and stroke it while Dieter licks your cunt. “Pull- pull your cock out.” You beg against his lips.

Lance won’t deny you. He lets go of you, reaching down to fumble with his slacks, opening them to pull his cock out for you. His hands find your tits again and you whimper, wrapping your fingers around his cock. Dieter continues lapping at your cunt, sucking on your clit as he tries to send you over the edge.

Your eyes flutter closed, twisting your wrist so you can pump the thick girth in your hand and your hips cant towards Dieter’s mouth. “Oh fuck, oh this is- this is so good.” You moan quietly. “I- I’m gonna cum.” You warn the men.

Dieter desperately wants you to cum. His tongue diving deep, curling inside of you while his fingers grip your thigh and he groans when you finally cum, clamping down on his tongue and soaking his face with your juices. He laps up every drop he can get while you moan his name. Lance groans at the sounds you make, twitching in your loosened grip and he reluctantly pushes your hand away so he can pull Dieter up after the actor lowers your leg. He pulls Dieter close so he can press his lips to his, wanting to taste you.

You pant, watching the two men kiss and you decide you want a taste of your own. Dropping down to your knees, you wrap your fingers around Lance’s cock before you press your tongue to the leaking tip to lap at the juices building up. Making him groan and push into your mouth a little more.

Lance groans into Dieter’s mouth and the actor fumbles to unbutton his pants, pulling his aching cock out. Lance immediately takes his hard cock in his hard, jerking him off while you suck on the stuntman’s length. Dieter’s tongue tangles with Lance’s while he pleasures and gets pleasured.

You pull off Lance’s cock after a moment and take the head of Dieter’s length into your mouth after batting the other man’s hand away from it. Groaning as you have a hand on each man’s cock and start to massage the base of each one. You flick your tongue over the tip of Dieter’s before you pull back and take Lance back into your mouth.

“Jesus Christ.” Dieter groans, looking down at you and Lance takes the chance to kiss along his neck, biting down softly on his jaw. “She’s gorgeous.” He murmurs, stroking your cheek as you look up at the men. “I want to fuck you baby doll. Get on the bed and Lance can fuck your throat while I fuck you if you want that.” Dieter murmurs, giving you the choice.

You kiss the tip of Dieter’s cock and nod as you let go of both men’s girth. “I want that.” You promise breathlessly, biting your lip. Lance helps you up and you move over to the bed and get onto it, on all fours. Looking over your shoulder, you shake your ass at both men. “Come on, pretty boys, I’m starting to get lonely over here.”

Lance comes over, smacking your ass, and he wastes no time kneeling on the bed so you can take his cock back into his mouth. Dieter comes over, kneeling on the bed behind you and he caresses your spine. “I’ll pull out.” He promises, smacking your ass cheek before he’s gripping his cock, positioning himself at your entrance and slowly pushing inside of you.

You moan sounds out around the stuntman’s length, your back bowing slightly as Dieter stretches you out. It’s been longer than you care to admit since you’ve had a lover, appearances needing to be kept up for the studios. Still, you enjoy the fullness and push your hips back as he bottoms out inside you.

Dieter closes his eyes, jaw dropping at the feel of you, and he starts to move inside of you. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, caressing your hips before he grabs them, rocking inside of you and each rock pushes Lance’s cock deeper down your throat.

It’s filthy and wicked, while you aren’t pure, this is the first time you have been between two men. Your acting making you seem much more confident than you actually are, but you find that you love it. Moaning, you wrap your hand around Lance’s cock and pump the base while you take him deeper.

Dieter groans as he watches you take the other man’s cock into your mouth. It’s dirty and so naughty, everything the studio doesn’t want you to be. He fucking loves it. Lance does too by the look on his face and Dieter can’t help but reach for him, grabbing his neck to pull him across to press his lips to his.

Both men coming together means that they are surging deeper inside you. Pressing close and you feel yourself start to gag on the cock in your mouth but you quickly start to swallow around him. Enjoying the way they moan together above you and you wish that you had a studio camera to film this so you can see how they look.

Your cunt tightens around Dieter and he chuckles into Lance’s mouth, pulling back for a second. “Oh she loves this.” He murmurs and moves forward again to slide his tongue against Lance’s, his hands finding your hips again, his cock pushing harder and faster. He wants to feel you cum around him.

It’s hard to concentrate on the cock in your mouth when Dieter starts to fuck you hard and fast. His cock shredding up inside you and pressing against something wonderful that makes you eager to push back. Eyes watering and your lipstick smeared, you don’t care how you look as long as the delicious pressure continues to build up inside you.

Dieter and Lance pull back from the kiss, looking down at you and Lance groans as you hollow your cheeks around his cock. “That’s it baby. That’s it. Fuck, gonna make me cum.” He warns you, not sure if you want to swallow his cum or not.

You hum, looking up at him through your lashes and you continue to press him deeper into your throat. Pressing the tip of your nose to his torso and barely being tickled by the groomed hairs around his cock. You want him to cum down your throat, wanting to taste him.

“Fuck fuck fuckkkk.” Lance groans, his cock throbbing as he cums down your throat. You swallow as much as you can and Dieter watches in awe as Lance cums. “That’s it baby doll. Good girl. So good.” Dieter coos, caressing your back and he groans when your cunt flutters around his cock.

You want Dieter to cum, to have him moan in pleasure like Lance is. You clench down around him and while you are still swallowing, you push your hips back to encourage him to fuck you harder.

Dieter doesn’t want to cum until you do, his hand sliding under you to find your clit and he rubs it while he’s fucking into you. Lance groans, needing to pleasure you so he shifts onto his back, sliding under you and his tongue finds your clit, pushing Dieter’s hand aside. “Fuck.” Dieter groans as he grabs your hip again to fuck you harder, needing you to cum.

“Oh my goddddddd.” You whine, rocking your hips down and panting. You can’t take much more, the pleasure building up to the point where you screaming out when you start to cum.

Dieter hisses when you clamp down on his cock, making him groan your name and Lance shifts, licking at where you and Dieter are joined, your cum dripping into his mouth and he reaches up to fondle Dieter's balls. "Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna -" Dieter barely managers to pull out, gripping his cock as he spurts his hot seed onto your ass and lower back.

You whine, enjoying the way that he had felt inside you. Missing the way he had filled you as you continue to come. “Dieter, fuck baby.” You pant, dropping down to your elbows.

Lance groans, shifting out from under you and he leans in to lick a line of Dieter's cum from your flesh. "Fuck baby." Dieter grunts, leaning down to bite your ass cheek, lapping at your quivering pussy to taste you again.

Lance nods, "so fucking good." He agrees and when Dieter lifts his head, he surges forward to kiss the actor again. Dieter grabs the back of his neck, keeping him close so he can kiss him passionately, both men still tingling from their orgasms.

Turning on your side, Dieter’s cum still on your ass, you watch the two men kiss. Still feeling euphoric at the sensations you experienced and wondering why this could be so wrong.

“So fucking good.” Dieter groans and leans down to kiss you after Lance pulls back. He shifts off of the bed and goes into the bathroom to grab a rag for you to clean up. Lance follows him, caressing his back and he washes himself up while Dieter takes care of you. “You enjoy yourself, baby doll?” He asks while he cleans his cum off of you.

“I did.” You bite your lip and are a little unsure of how well you managed to satisfy the two men. “Did you both enjoy yourselves?” You ask, looking between Dieter and Lance.

Lance nods, “I enjoyed it, sweetheart. I don’t - I don’t usually like to penetrate unless it’s someone like him.” Lance winks at Dieter, hoping you catch his drift, “but you were fucking delicious.” He leans down to softly kiss you. “Hopefully we do this again sometime.”

You kiss him back, reaching up to caress his cheek. “Anytime.” You tell him saucily and winking when he pulls back. You stretch out and hum contentedly. “What do you think, Dieter baby?” You coo, trailing a finger down your breast.

Dieter bites his lip, “it was fucking fantastic baby.” He promises and admires your form as you stretch out. Lance grabs his clothes, starting to redress. “I better go. I have an early call tomorrow.” Lance says and pecks your lips once he’s dressed and he kisses Dieter once again. “See you around handsome.” He winks and carefully exits the room, leaving you and Dieter alone. “You wanna get dressed and get back out there or do you wanna order some drinks and stay in here?” He asks, grabbing his briefs to pull them up.

“What do you want to do?” You ask softly. “I’m with you tonight. Whatever you want, I’m game.” You promise. Your goal is to make him want to be around you and you can’t do that if you make him annoyed or bored.

Dieter leans in to kiss you, his hand caressing your body. “I wanna stay with you. Right here. I wanna make you cum again and then I want to take you home and make you cum again.” He smirks, knowing he’s not gonna want to let you go now that he’s got you. You’re gorgeous and kinky and everything he loves in a woman. This is the beginning of something beautiful.

****

“Fuck baby.” You moan, looking over your shoulder at Dieter as he rocks into you. Your hands are wrapped around the posts of the headboard of the bed you spend more time in than your own. For the past three months, you and Dieter have constantly been together, onset and off and the studio execs are happy that their star has been staying out of trouble. “Harder, baby.” You beg, clenching down around him. “Want to cum all over you.”

“Take it. Oh fuck. Give it to me. Wanna feel you gush, baby doll.” Dieter groans, his fingers digging into your hips and his mouth hanging open as his stomach tingles with his own near climax. “Cum for me.” He chokes, needing you to do it.

You don’t have too much longer before you are doing just that. Your legs kick up between Dieter’s and your toes curl in pleasure. Your cry of his name is something his neighbors around him should be well used to hearing now, since you cry it out every night. “Cum inside me.” You begs, twisting the sheets up in your hands. “It’s safe. Please baby, let me feel you.”

He can’t deny. Fuck, he can’t deny you anything. He pants, his hips pushing into your ass and he clenches his eyes shut as he cums, burying his cock deep inside of you. He groans loud and proud as he paints your walls for the first time. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuckkkkk.” He groans, his hips slamming against your ass and he pants as he rides out his high.

The liquid heat of his pleasure fills you. Making you moan as it reaches every inch of your womb and coats your insides. “Fuck baby.” You whimper, biting your lip to keep from saying something stupid, something you know you shouldn’t say or feel but you do anyway. “So good, you’re so good to me, Dee.” You pant instead.

He kisses along your spine, “you’re so goddamn perfect, baby doll.” He murmurs between kisses, reluctant to pull out of you. He wants to stay buried inside of your warmth forever. He grunts as he pulls out of you, leaning back on his haunches to see his cum drip from your pussy and that makes his spent cock drip. “Goddamn beautiful.” He sighs and shifts to lay down beside you. “Darling girl, you want something to eat?” He asks, pulling you into his chest.

You curl up on his chest and sigh, smiling slightly. Dieter is surprisingly attentive for someone who had honed such a bad boy, playboy persona. “Later.” You hum softly. “I was thinking we could stay in tonight?” You caress his chest and bask in the pleasurable afterglow of his attention. Your entire body is lovingly sore from how pent up he was. Apparently you had been teasing him all day on set. “Maybe I could make you dinner? Or a midnight snack?” 

Dieter caresses your spine, “sure. You wanna have pasta? My housekeeper made me some. We can heat it up.” He suggests and you shake your head. “I can’t eat pasta. I - the studio has given me a list of things to eat. Salads, boiled chicken. Vodka or water. I need to keep my weight down.” You explain and Dieter pulls back to look down at you, “what the fuck? Boiled chicken? You’re joking, right?” He shakes his head in disbelief.

Snorting, you roll your eyes. “You know how it is. All the female actresses are strictly controlled. Why do you think I never eat anything but a salad when we go out?” You ask. “They measure me every morning and put me on a scale. If I’m too heavy, I cannot have lunch. Just smokes.”

“Jesus. I- I didn’t know it was that bad. I thought that they had you taking pills.” He shakes his head again, “you can’t not eat. Salad? That’s fucking rabbit food. You should be able to control your body, not the studio. That’s bullshit, baby.”

“I refused the pills.” You admit. “I didn’t like how they made me feel.” You’ve avoided doing any drugs with Dieter and surprisingly, he’s been okay with that. “That’s why my whiskey order changed to vodka. I hate vodka, but it’s all I can have.”

Dieter nods, having noticed you switched to clear liquor. “Baby doll, it’s crazy they dictate like that. I wish there was something I could do.” He sighs, pouring slightly as he looks at you. He does drugs, coke mainly, and you are such a good girl compared to him, so sweet and kind. He doesn’t deserve you really.

He sighs, knowing this isn’t the end of the conversation but he can’t do anything about it tonight so he pulls you closer, kissing your forehead and he closes his eyes as he breathes you in. You’ve become his home, his safe space, and he’d do anything to protect you. Z

You know that he’s relaxed now and you sigh softly. It’s gotten more complicated now. Far different from the day you had met Dieter. You were shown a side of him that no one else got to see except for in small glimpses. You’ve fallen in love even though you know that the studio has an expiration date set for your relationship. They want him single, so the press knew nothing of your nights out on the town.

****

“You want a drink, baby doll?” Dieter asks, walking over to his bar cart to pour himself a whiskey. You have taken to staying at his place nearly every night and he doesn’t complain when he gets to have you in his bed. The movie is coming along, the romance going extremely well thanks to your chemistry on set and Dieter finds himself more centered on his character, able to remember his lines better. Probably because he’s not out until the early hours having sex with strangers and snorting cocaine. He doesn’t know when it happened but he only wants you, can only think of you.

You shake your head, giving him a soft smile. “I shouldn’t.” You tell him, pressing your hand to your stomach. “They said I’m gaining some weight so I need to cut back on the drinking.” You roll your eyes and shrug. “But if you kiss me after you drink, I can taste it from your tongue.”

Dieter frowns, "gaining weight? You look fucking gorgeous. I can't wait to see the edits of you from today." He says, leaning in to peck your lips after he prepares a whiskey, sliding his tongue into your mouth so you can taste the liquor.

You moan over the taste of the liquor and Dieter combined. It’s intoxicating, and you know that you need him. Curling your hand around his neck, you pour yourself into the kiss and slide another hand down to cup his flaccid cock through his pants.

He groans into your mouth, cock starting to harden under your grip. He can’t help it, you’re too tempting for him. “Fuck baby doll. You want me to fuck you?” He asks breathlessly, kissing along your jaw, careful to not leave any marks.

“Always want you to fuck me.” You whine, closing your eyes and enjoying the way that his lips map the perfect spots to make you hum in pleasure.

Dieter doesn't deny you, wanting you just as much. His hands are everywhere, squeezing your tits, squeezing your ass. He can't touch enough of you as he hardens in your grip. “Let me fuck you baby.” He pleads, his hands sliding under your dress to push under your silk panties, finding your clit. “Already wet for me.”

“Always wet for you.” You pant breathlessly. Holding onto his arms as he rubs your clit exactly how you like for it to be rubbed. “Baby, you do that so good. Always make me feel so good.” You’ve been insatiable lately and luckily Dieter has been completely up to fucking you whenever you want.

He hums, loving hearing your praise. So unlike the harshness he experienced in the industry. Almost everything he does is wrong. He shifts his fingers to push Teo inside of you, wanting you to cum first for him like this. “Baby doll. You’re so good to me. Always- fuck - always want you.” He murmurs when you squeeze his cock.

You ignore the worries that you have, the truth that you are hiding from him as the magic of his touch takes over. Pushing it away to focus on him. “Fuck Dee,” you whimper softly. “Love this, love you.”

It’s the first time you’ve said you love him and it makes him feel like he’s on top of the world, his heart pounding in his chest. “Wait-” He withdraws his fingers and pulls your hand away from his cock. “Did you- did you just say you love me?” He asks and you nod, biting your lip and he can see you’re nervous. He surges forward to press his lips to yours. “I love you, baby doll. I- fuck - you love me?” He asks, wanting to hear you say it.

“I love you, Dieter.” You cup his cheek and kiss him again. “I love you.” You do love him, even if you didn’t start out with this under the most honest of pretenses, you know that you do love him. Shocked that he loves you too, you beam at him.

He pulls you close, guiding you over to the sofa. “I want you to ride me.” He 

says, caressing your back until he’s working the zipper of your dress down to expose more skin to his eager eyes. “I want you to cum on my cock, baby.” He says, pushing the dress off of your shoulders until it’s pooling at your feet and he sits down on the sofa.

You watch as he starts to unzip his pants, pulling the shirttails out and up his stomach as he lifts his hips to push them and his briefs down. His cock is hard, springing up to slap against his skin as he watches you push your panties down and instead of taking off your bra, you straddle his thighs, eager to sink down on him. “Fuck I love your cock.” you coo softly. “You fill me up so fucking good.” 

He groans when you grip his cock, sinking down on top of him. “Fuck baby doll. Look at you.” He hisses, watching you take his length inside of you. He could do this for hours, just watch you ride his dick. “So fucking pretty.” He coos, cupping your cheek and he brings you close so he can press his lips to yours again.

Kissing Dieter has become so very natural to you. Both on set and off. You seemingly always are nearing to kissing him or just coming from kissing him. Still, every time makes you shiver slightly and wish that you were able to keep him. “I love you.” you murmur softly as you start to move, riding him slowly and enjoying the way he stretches you out. Perhaps this will count as exercise. 

His hands caress you, wanting to touch more of you, and he’s quick to unclasp your bra while you work on unbuttoning his shirt. He leans in to kiss along your chest once your bra is slung across the room and his lips are wrapping around your nipple as you start to slowly ride him.

“Dee!” Your fingers dig into his hair and you try to gently pull him away. You’re sensitive and want to kiss him again. “So good baby, kiss me.” You beg softly, knowing he will give in if you want your lips on his.

He reluctantly pulls away from your breast so he can lean in to kiss you. His tongue immediately slides into your mouth. The shitty tattoos on his chest he got while drunk during his brief stint in the army before he was dismissed just after training are under your touch and he knows you can feel his heart beating.

It becomes soft and sweet. Something that is very different from the energetic fucking that normally happens. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you rise and sink on his cock while you kiss him. It’s as close to making love as you’ve ever had with him and you want to savor it. 

It’s slower than usual but he loves it. He honestly never imagined he’d find someone to love in this hell hole of a town. The majority of people just wanted him to see where he could take them. He doesn’t want that. He wants someone to want him, Dieter, not the actor. His tongue slides against yours, languid and leisurely as you ride his cock. His hands caress your back and come up to squeeze your breast.

You moan softly, not hurt but it’s still tender as he squeezes. You don’t stop him from enjoying your breasts, knowing how much he enjoys playing with your tits. Your walls clench down around him and you whimper when he pinches your nipple softer than he normally does. “Dee,” You bite his ear lobe and scratch your nails against his scalp as you bury them into his hair. “Love you.” 

“Love you. Fucking love you.” He murmurs and his cock twitches inside of you. “I want you to cum for me.” He pleads softly, reaching down to rub your clit, wanting to feel you soak him. “Cum for me baby doll.” He begs, his voice a little whiny but he can’t help himself.

Instead of being explosive so you gush all over him, your orgasm is soft. Still no less devastating than your normally orgasms in his arms. Stiffening, your cunt clamps down around him and you moan his name softly.

Your orgasm is slow but you clamp down on his cock and he loves it. “Fuck. So beautiful, baby. So fucking beautiful.” He groans and he grabs your hips, thrusting up into you. He is close, overwhelmed by the emotion, and he thrusts a half dozen more times before he’s pulling you down onto his cock and painting your walls with his seed.

He smiles, feeling like he’s finally home when he’s in your arms. You caress him and he feels like he can take on anything as long as he has you. He gets to spend all his time with you and he’s worried that when the movie is finished filming, that you won’t want to see him anymore. A silly fear that’s been abated by you saying you love him but it’s still there, his insecurities. He pulls you close, breathing you in, and he kisses your hair.

****

“I have to tell the producer, I need to let out your dress.” The head of the wardrobe department shakes her head as she looks at you in the mirror. Your skintight dress doesn’t zip up end you know why, although you hadn’t said a word to anyone, not even Dieter. “You can’t tell them.” You beg immediately, nearly frozen in fear. “Please, I’m- im pregnant.”

She looks at you for a second, eyes wide, and she knows what will happen if the studio finds out. “How far along are you?” She asks, “about five months.” Her eyes dip down, “you’re carrying small. Just looks like you’ve eaten a big meal. Is it- it’s Bravo’s?” She guesses. Everyone on set knows about your dalliance with the leading man. You nod and she bites her lip, knowing that if she tattles, you’ll be forced to abort, even at five months. “I’ll let the dress out. I won’t tell anyone.” She vows, knowing she can’t betray you when you’re such a kind woman in an industry full of demanding witches.

“Thank you- thank you.” You turn around and reach for her hands. “I cannot ever repay you.” You gush, nearly in tears with gratitude. You know what this industry is like and what they will do. They forced Judy to get an abortion, and they wouldn’t hesitate to do it to you. “I promise I have been watching what I eat so I don’t gain much.” You promise her quietly. “But my breasts are getting bigger.”

“We will fix it, sweetheart.” She promises, knowing she can’t do much but she can take the dresses out. “Only five more weeks of shooting. You will need to be careful.” She warns you, having seen too many tragedies when it comes to pregnant actresses. You nod, squeezing her hands in thanks and she grabs her measuring tape to take your new measurements so she can take out your costumes.

It doesn’t take long for her to re-measure you, making you feel a lot better and you put on your dressing gown when she’s done. If anyone asks, the costume ripped and she’s mending it while she’s letting it out. You leave wardrobe and move over to the beverage cart, pouring yourself a water and resisting the urge to light a cigarette. You’ve heard it could be bad for babies, so you’ve quit.

Dieter walks through the halls of the studio looking for you. Script in hand and smoke hanging from his mouth, he’s trying to find you to discuss the script changes from the writers and he finds you in your dressing room. “Damn baby girl.” He murmurs, setting his script down and taking a drag of his smoke as his eyes trail along your front. “Gorgeous as always.”

You smile as you look at him, handsome as always and it’s by sheer will that you don’t reach down to touch your stomach. The baby has started moving and it makes you feel incredibly emotional every time. It also seems to be when Dieter is around. “Hey baby.” You walk over to him, trying to ignore the smell of the smoke, it’s started disagreeing with you. “They are having to work on my dress, there was a tear in it.”

He hums, leaning in to kiss you. “Probably me.” He jokes, knowing you’ve had a few quickies between shooting scenes. You chuckle and he kisses along your neck, “you read the revisions?” He asks, picking up the script. “They want us to do some running shit. Want you to run after me.” He says, handing the paper to you.

“Running?” You hadn’t looked at the revisions, too busy with the wardrobe department, but you take the script and look it over as Dieter continues to kiss you. “Why? There shouldn’t be running.”

“It’s some new love scene. They want you to chase me when I get into the taxi. Want you to scream at me that you love me but I don’t hear you. I ride off until we reunite.” He says between kisses to your neck, “you gotta scream out that you loveeee me.” He teases against your skin.

“Ohhhh noooo.” You hum, smiling because you know he is grinning as he continues to kiss you. “It will be so hard to act that out.” Your hands on his waist slide around his back and you lean into him for a moment. You are worried about the running, but it shouldn’t be too bad. You’ve been moving a lot and it’s not like you have to be in bed the entire time you are pregnant. As long as you don’t fall, you should be good.

Dieter smirks, leaning in to softly kiss you. “You are so beautiful.” He murmurs, “you fucking know that, right?” He asks you, his dark eyes burning into yours. “Most beautiful woman here and I’m so lucky to have you, baby doll.” Dieter murmurs against your jaw.

“I love you, Dieter.” You whisper softly, wanting him to know that you love him and not just something you are saying for the movie. “I think we need to lock the door of my dressing room and have some fun before we film. What do you say?”

“I like the way you think.” Dieter smirks, pulling away from you to lock your dressing room door behind him and he reaches for you, pulling you into his arms so he can kiss you properly. Smoke spirals from the smoke he abandoned in the ashtray and his tongue slides against yours while his hands squeeze your ass.

You moan softly, aware that you have to be quiet. Everyone is aware of your relationship on set but you don’t publicly display it. Your body aches for him, the boost to your libido insane during the pregnancy that the father of your child doesn’t even know about. Dieter’s hand dives for the ties to your dressing gown but you shake your head. “No time to get undressed.” You murmur.

He can’t deny you anything. His hips pressing against your ass as he sets a harsh pace, the slapping sounds and your combined moans and pants the only sounds in the dressing room. “Always feel so fucking good.” He grunts, knowing that he can’t be anywhere else. He stopped going to orgies, stopped seeking out others. All he can think about is you. You. You. You.

“I love- fuck, I love you, Dee.” You will have to tell him. You need to tell him now, but you can’t. You’re afraid of what he might say, what he might tell the studio if you do. It won’t be too much longer until the movie is in the can and then you can tell him. If he decides he wants to leave you, so be it.

“Love you. So much, baby doll. Jesus, you - can’t stop thinking about you. All I fucking think about. Stopped taking goddamn drugs because they don’t compare to you. Only get high on you now.” He confesses, “I love you.” He grits his teeth, fucking into you a little faster.

His confession makes you cry out. Falling over the edge and clamping down around his cock, you soak him with your juices. Feeling the incredible flood of warmth seep through your veins and makes you slump against the table.

He hisses when you clamp down on him, never getting tired of how you feel, how you sound when you cum. “Fuck. Oh shit. Shit.” He curses as he thrusts a half dozen more times before he’s pushes deep and cumming inside of you with a hiss of your name. Painting your walls, he leans over you to kiss your neck.

“So good baby.” You whimper, closing your eyes and enjoying the way that he fills you up. “Fuck, I’ll never get tired of that.” You murmur quietly. “We should get married.”

He pulls out of you, spinning you around so you are looking at him. “You serious?” He asks, wondering if you are just rambling in the haze of your orgasm. “You want to be my wife?” He asks breathlessly. He knows he’s a difficult man to love. Hell, he changes his religion every other week. He isn’t easy to be around yet here you are, still here months later. “You wanna marry me?”

“I want to marry you.” You promise breathlessly. “I want nothing more than to marry you.” You want to tell him about the baby but you don’t. Figuring there will be time for that later. You don’t want him to think the only reason you ask him to marry him is because of the baby. “We can go to Vegas.”

Dieter cups your cheeks, “yeah? You wanna elope? I won’t have your daddy trying to shoot my ass?” He jokes softly and you shake your head, reaching up to caress his wrists. “I want to marry you.” You declare and Dieter grins, leaning in to softly kiss you. “I wanna marry you too. Let’s tell them you’re sick so we can get off set today. We can be in Vegas tonight to get married tomorrow.”

“Okay.” You giggle against his lips and nod. “I’ll tell them that I’m having horrible bleeding and cramps and cannot possibly run.” You tease,

Kissing him once more before pulling away. Everything seems perfect, completely in love with Dieter and about to go elope with him. You hope he never finds out about your deal with the studio because he would never forgive you.

****

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The officiant declares and Dieter wastes no time in pressing his lips to yours. “Mrs. Bravo.” He coos when he pulls back, grinning in awe that he’s married to you.

You kiss him desperately, clinging to his arms. “Mr. Bravo.” You bat your lashes at him playfully. “How does it feel to be a married man?” You ask, blissfully happy that he wanted to marry you.

He grins, kissing you softly. “It - it’s like I’m finally where I belong.” He admits quietly, the weight of his wedding ring on his finger is welcome and he leans in to press his forehead against yours. “I love you baby doll. Let’s go celebrate. Champagne!” He says, pulling back from you.

You giggle, knowing that you cannot have more than a sip of champagne but you can’t deny him. “Champagne and then I want to go back to the hotel with my husband.” You beg. Once you get back to L.A. you will have to pretend that you aren’t Dieter’s wife and take off the gorgeous ring he has slipped on your finger.

The champagne is popped once you’re back in your suite and Dieter wants tonight to be all about you both. No movie, no press, nothing but the two of you. He leans in to kiss you, loving how it feels to belong to you.

“I love you.” You promise him, smiling at him as you set your champagne down. You had one tiny sip, but you know that Dieter won’t notice once you start kissing. “I love my husband. Dieter Bravo.”

Fuck, he can’t get enough of hearing that. “Come on baby. Wanna make love to my wife.” He says, “my beautiful movie star wife.” He coos, “I’m a lucky son of a bitch.” He murmurs, pulling you into his lap.

You hum, making sure that you don’t squish your belly, and wrap your arms around him. “You love me?” You ask playfully. “Will you still love me when I’m old and fat?” You ask it as a joke, but you are worried that he won’t like your body once you have had your baby. He’s used to gorgeous men and women and it would break your heart if he rejected you.

Dieter snorts, “you gonna love me when I’m old and fat too? Im gonna be a miserable old fucker. You ready to deal with me?” He asks, caressing your back, “I’ll love you no matter what, baby doll.” He vows, knowing he’s been fickle his entire life but that’s because he was searching for something, for you.

“You are going to be distinguished.” You argue, running your fingers through his hair. “Your hair will be salt and pepper and you’ll still have adoring fans throwing themselves at you.” You pout, kissing his lips. “And I’ll still think you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever met.”

Dieter grins, pleased that you are saying that. “And you’d still be the most gorgeous fucking woman in Hollywood.” He assures you, his hands sliding down to squeeze your ass. “Are you gonna ride my cock, sweetheart? You wanna have married sex?” He teases, his fingers dipping beneath your dress.

“Yes.” You moan breathlessly. You have been riding him more, scared of him discovering your belly so it has been easier to mount him. He finds your panties easily and push them to the side. The short, white, sheath dress that was your wedding dress is bunched at your hips and covers your belly wonderfully.

Dieter groans when you reach down to take him out of his pants. He’s hard and aching for you. “Take what’s yours.” He orders, his brown eyes wide in awe as you sink down onto him. “Fuckkkk.” He hisses, head tilting back as you take him inside of you.

“I love you.” You pant breathlessly. “I love this cock. I love how you feel inside me, how you make me feel like the only woman in the world.” You babble as you take him deeper, spilling all the thoughts you’ve had since you’ve fallen in love with him. “I want you, only you.”

Dieter swears that his heart is about to explode out of his chest. He hisses, hands fumbling to squeeze your ass and he pants when you clench around him. “I love you. I want you, only you baby doll. Had me since the moment we met. The night we shared Lance. You are - fuck - the woman I’ve been waiting for. I love you. I love you.” He pants, swallowing harshly as he struggles to put into words how he feels about you. Ironic considering he’s an actor.

You moan his name and kiss along his neck. “I know, I love you. I love you too.” It’s all you can say, all you can feel beyond the utter bliss of having him inside you.

Your whimpers make him groan and he rocks up into you. “Cum for me baby. Want my wife to cum for me.” He pleads, his fingers digging into your flesh and he desperately wants to feel you cum for him.

Your body is sensitive, primed for an orgasm and it doesn’t take many more thrusts to give into it. Tossing your head back, you are confident that he will catch you as you cry his name. Riding out your orgasm with a whimper chant of it again and again.

“Good girl, baby doll. Such a good girl for me.” Dieter grunts as you flutter around his cock. He can’t help it, he needs to cum. Seeing his ring on your finger has him feral and he braces his feet so he can push up into you, “fuck fuck fuck. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He spits out at once until he’s cumming, painting your walls with his hot seed. Panting, he rests his forehead against your sternum, feeling surrounded by you.

You sigh happily, closing your eyes and smiling. Feeling like this is the perfect moment. Nothing is going to change the way you feel about Dieter and you know that he is the love of your life. “Perfect, baby.” You coo softly. “You are perfect and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

****

“You okay?” Dieter asks when you down the glass of water in between scenes. It’s been two months since you have been married, still living apart due to the studio but as soon as you are finished, you’ll be moving in with Dieter. Today is the last day of filming, the final scenes that got pushed back. You running after the cab.

“I don’t feel that good.” You admit, taking a handkerchief and patting your face where you are sweating. You’ve been feeling off since you woke up but you are still another month and a half from being due. The studio still has no idea, since you are carrying so small. It still just looks like you have eaten a large lunch and the wardrobe department has been magical at concealing your baby bump. “I’ll be okay.”

Dieter frowns, “maybe we shouldn’t do the scene today. I’m sure we can move it to tomorrow.” He doesn’t want you to exert yourself. It’s been a long shoot and he knows you must be exhausted. He is. 

The director shakes his head, “no, no. We get this done now. The studio is pissed off that we have gone over budget and time. This gets done today.”

“I’ll be fine.” You insist, shaking your head. You know that the sooner you get the movie in the can, the sooner you can tell the studio that you aren’t adhering to their deal anymore. You don’t care if the movie you’ve wanted to make forever never gets done or if you never work in Hollywood again. You want a life with your husband, your child. “What’s one scene? We’ll be done in no time.”

Dieter is concerned for his wife, the wedding ring he slides onto his finger every night and takes off every morning is in his pocket and he sighs as he steps aside, knowing you can’t be argued with. “ Honey, if it’s too much, we can move this to tomorrow. I don’t want you to get sick.“

Giving him a weak smile as another uncomfortable pain passes through you, you shake your head again. He has seemed to worry more about you since your elopement. It’s very sweet. “I’ll be fine. I want this movie to be done.” You give him a pointed look. “I have plans for this weekend.”

Dieter smirks, knowing what you’re talking about. You decided to take a mini break and rent a house on the beach, spend the weekend together since you are having to live apart. He winks at you and reaches for your hand to squeeze it. “Let’s get it done and then we are finished.” He says, offering you a smile despite the worry still being there.

After listening to the director’s wants for the scene, you step on your mark and wait as the car is started and Dieter climbs inside. “Action!” The call prompts you to cry out for your husband’s character and start waving your hands. “Stop! Stop! I love you!” As the car takes off, you start running forward.

Dieter is supposed to drive off but he looks behind him to wave like he’s supposed to and he sees you collapse. “Stop the fucking car!” He hisses, jolting when the driver slams on the brakes and he gets out, rushing over to you. “Baby, baby doll. What’s wrong? You okay?” He asks and the director shouts ‘cut’ but Dieter doesn’t hear it.

You are grasping your stomach and sobbing out in pain. “I- I’m pregnant!” You cry out and you know there is no way for everyone to find out now. There is a puddle of water underneath you where your water broke. Despite how early it is, the baby is coming. “I- I need - Dieter!” You scream as another pain rips through you, harder and more intense than any of the others.

“Pre-pregnant?” Dieter gasps, shocked and he shakes his head, “when? How? I- fuck. You’re pregnant?” Dieter yells and kneels down beside you, eyes wide with fear. “You’re pregnant?” He chokes, knowing it’s only him who could be the father.

“I’m- I’m sorry, I should have- have told you.” You pant out, trying to catch your breath. “I-I didn’t want- the studio- they- you know-“ you break off when another pain rushes over you and your teeth gnash together to keep from screaming again.

Dieter cannot believe you kept this from him. He’s beyond hurt but he can’t show that, knowing he has to keep strong in front of the studio. “Will someone call a fucking ambulance?” He shouts, getting desperate to make sure you’re okay. However upset he is, you’re his wife and he needs to make sure you’re okay.

A crowd is gathering around you, people wide eyes and whispering. You know there is no way this isn’t getting out. Reaching out, you grab Dieter’s hand, terrified that something had gone wrong and you’ve hurt your baby. “I-I love you.” You gasp out. “It’s- the baby is early.”

Dieter doesn’t respond, his mind whirling and he can’t focus when all he can think is “you’re pregnant.” His child. With his child. He can barely breathe himself and he squeezes your hand back, terrified and relieved when the paramedics make their way through the crowd to get to you.

Everyone gasps, glancing over at the producers and director who are equally shocked. Dieter ignores them, knowing he has to be with you, even if it’s to get answers, so he gets into the ambulance and holds your hand as the ambulance speeds away from the studio. “Eight months?” Dieter chokes, closing his eyes.

He hates the idea of being a father, your heart sinks and you close your own eyes to try to hold back a sob. “I’m sorry.” You whimper. “I-I was scared. I didn’t realize it until I- until we were serious and I didn’t want to sc-scare you too.” Tears of agony and sorrow leak out of the corner of your eyes.

“Why - why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” He chokes, confused and wondering why you haven’t told him. “We - we got married and you didn’t - you didn’t tell me. Jesus Christ, we have had sex. How didn’t I know?” He shakes his head, “I should’ve known. Jesus. Fuck. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I- if the studio found out, they would- you know they would have had me terminate it.” You need him to understand. “I didn’t- I know that I - I couldn’t risk them- I-“ you are cut off by the low, inhuman hiss that you let out, squeezing his hand. You sigh and pant when it passes. “I didn’t know until I was too far along and I knew the studio would tell you about the deal I made with them.”

Dieter frowns, “the deal? What deal?” He is confused, unsure of what the hell you’re talking about when you’re in labor with a baby he knew nothing about. He’s in pain and he wants to know what the fuck is going on.

Everything will come out and Dieter will hate you so it doesn’t matter now. You are crying and you hold onto his hand tightly. “When- when I met you, the studio told me that if I kept you out of the press, from-from behaving badly, they would finance the script I had written.” You confess, immediately rolling into another contraction that takes your breath away and leaves you unable to beg him for forgiveness.

Dieter rears back, his eyes wide and he slowly shakes his head in disbelief. “You- I- I don’t understand. You- we are married? We are - what the fuck?” He hisses, furious with the studio and with you for lying to him. You’re his wife and you didn’t think he deserved to know that you have been bribed into spending time with him.

“I know. I love you Dee, I love you, I promise.” You know he won’t believe you but you have to tell him. Your eyes beg him to believe you, “I don’t care if they blacklist me. I want to be with you. I want our baby. Our baby, Deeeeeeeee!” You cry out when another pain slams into you.

Dieter shakes his head, “I can’t believe - fuck.” He winces, feeling betrayed and yet you’re his wife. You’re about to have his baby. “I wish- why didn’t you tell me?” He chokes, tears stinging in his eyes. The ambulance comes to a stop at that moment and Dieter leans back so the paramedics can take you into the hospital.

You don’t answer him, you can’t answer him as you get caught up in the business of getting into the hospital. You want him with you but they won’t let him come back behind the double doors and you know that he has every reason to leave you. You might never see Dieter again.

Dieter is escorted to the father’s waiting room. He is itching for a smoke and one of the other dads-to-be hands him one.

“First?” He guesses and Dieter pauses for a second so he can light up the cigarette and he nods, exhaling the smoke. 

“Yeah.” He is still reeling from the barrage of bad news you’ve dumped on him and he swallows harshly, pacing as he tries to process what you’ve told him.

“It’ll be fine.” The man takes a drag off his own cigarette and blows it out. “My wife’s having our third. Little girl.” He looks over at the stack of magazines. “Bring a newspaper, though. Those magazines are at least five months old.”

Dieter rubs his forehead as he sits down, leaning between his legs, cigarette dangling between his fingers, the smoke curling into the air as he struggles to come to grips with the fact that he’s about to become a father, and his wife lied to him. “Thanks for the advice.” He snorts and the guy squints, adjusting his glasses. “Hey, ain’t you that actor guy?” He asks and Dieter sighs, “yeah. That’s me.” The guy grins, “no kidding. Wait till I tell my old lady who I met. Who’s the lucky lady?” He jerks his chin towards the ring Dieter subconsciously takes out of his pocket and slides onto his finger. Dieter says your name, knowing that the press will get hold of the news so it doesn't matter anymore to keep it a secret. “Her? She’s gorgeous. You’re a lucky son a bitch.” He says and Dieter snorts, taking another drag of his cigarette.

Inside the delivery room, you are sobbing for Dieter, panicked and desperate to talk to him, to have him nearby as the doctors refuse to tell you if the baby is okay. After too long pitching a fit, they knocked you out, drugging you.

Dieter hasn’t heard anything, starting to panic as he waits to hear from a doctor or nurse about you and the baby. His foot bounces up and down as the minutes tick by and he can’t take it. He stands up, the chair scrapping and he grabs the passing nurse. “I need to know what’s happening with my wife. Right now.” He demands, unable to take it any longer.

The nurse pulls her arm away from him and turns to start lecturing him, eyes widening when she recognizes the face of her favorite movie star. “M-Mr. Bravo.” Everyone in the labor department knows that the famous actress in labor had been calling for him until you were put to sleep to rest. The fact that you were married almost makes her speechless, but giddy to know something that hasn’t been reported. “Your wife has been unsettled and distressed so the doctor gave her something to help her rest. The baby was almost ready to come out. It will be just a little longer.” She assured him, taking his hand because she can say she touched a movie star.

Dieter looks down at her hand gripping his and immediately pulls it away. “So are they okay? No one is telling me anything.” He hisses, “I need to know if they are okay. Has the baby been born yet?” He asks and she shakes her head, “not yet.” Just as Dieter opens his mouth to respond, he hears his name called behind him. Turning, he sees the executives from the studio and he narrows his eyes, “what are you doing here?” He hisses, feeling betrayed by the producers and director who persuaded you to lie to him, to babysit him.

“Trying to contain this disaster.” The producer shakes his head, frowning heavily. “Luckily, the hospital staff can’t say anything, but have you talked to anyone? I don’t want this getting out. Stupid girl. She should have aborted the damn thing the second she found out she was pregnant. Her career is over.” His cold eyes flicker over to Dieter. “Although you will come away unscathed.”

Dieter can’t believe what they are saying. “Are you- are you fucking joking? This is my wife. My child. I- I didn’t know she was pregnant but I’m not just gonna walk away. We are married.” Dieter announces and the execs shake their heads. “No one gave you permission to be married.” Dieter snorts, “no because we didn’t need it because we are adults.”

“Well, we will get the marriage annulled.” He tells you dismissively. “While she was good at keeping you from fucking half of Hollywood, she fucked up. Marrying you, getting pregnant.” He scoffs and shakes his head. “No wonder she’s been quiet when I ask how things are going. She knew she wasn’t going to get her movie made. Although I’m still going to make it, just without her.”

“No. No. You can’t do that. She - it was me who came inside of her. I knew the possible consequences.” He reasons, “You cannot annul my marriage to her. I love her.” He chokes, still worried about you. 

“Love? You have fucked half of Hollywood and you expect us to believe you love her? Come on now, we are doing you a favor.” 

Dieter growls, reaching out to grab the executive by his collar, “don’t fucking test me right now. My wife is having our child and I don’t know what’s going on. I’ll spread you over the fucking floor.”

The director looks ready to jump in but the producer shakes his head. “Think carefully, Dieter. You’re a star because I want you to be.” He warns him. “Fight me on this and you’ll never make another movie. You’ll lose everything.”

Dieter growls, “fuck you.” He pushes him away, “you think you own me but you don’t. I’ll get work outside of this studio. I’ll - I’ll go to Warner.” He threatens, “don’t you fucking mess with me or my family.”

The studio exec scoffs and shakes his head. “They won’t take you. You’re a liability, Bravo. Why do you think I had to bribe your wife to spend time with you?” He asks, smirking. “She’s probably going to leave you anyway so why don’t you make a deal for yourself? Save something from all this.” He suggests, needing Dieter to agree in order to get the annulment.

Dieter can’t stop himself, he pulls his hand back and surges forward to punch the exec. For voicing his fears, that you will leave him eventually everyone does. “Owwww.” Dieter whines as soon as he punches, his hand aching and he whimpers, cradling it to his chest. “Fuck, that hurt. You’re gonna fucking leave.” He growls, “get out of this hospital otherwise I’ll call the security.” The other men in the room stand up, having seen Dieter’s worry and are prepared to help him kick those assholes out.

Shaking his head, the producer reached up and rubs his jaw. “You’re finished Bravo.” He spits. “I’ll make sure you never film another scene and your habits are known around town.” He warns, turning on his heels and stomping out of the waiting room, the director on his heels.

Dieter pants, his hand throbbing but the doctor walks into the room and he doesn’t give a fuck about anything other than hearing how you are. “What’s happening? How is she?” He asks and the doctor smiles, “congratulations, Mr. Bravo. You have a son. He’s small, but healthy. Would you like to see him?” He asks and Dieter nods, the other dad patting him on the back. “Congrats.” Dieter follows the doctor, “and my wife?” He asks, “she’s recovering.” He guides Dieter to the nursery and Dieter looks down at the baby wrapped up in a blue blanket.

Slowly blinking, you feel heavy, lethargic. Your mouth is dry and your body hurts as you start to do a mental tally on yourself. Head throbbing, you look around to realize that you are still in the hospital. “Hello?” You start to panic when you don’t hear anyone or see anyone in your room. You don’t expect Dieter stayed but you realize your stomach is flat and there’s no bassinet in your room. “Hello! Where’s my baby!”

"He needs to be with her." Dieter insists and the nurse doesn't deny him, wheeling the baby into the room you are in and you are crying. "Baby doll, what's wrong?" He asks, leaning in to kiss your forehead and wrapping his arms around you. "He's here. Our son. We have a son, sweetheart." Dieter murmurs against your skin.

“A son? He’s okay?” You gasp out through your tears, struggling through the after effects of the medication to sit up. “I need- I need to hold him. Please, let me see him.” You beg, wanting to hold your son and touch him after the trauma of his birth. “A son.” Blinking through the tears, you can’t believe that Dieter is here.

He doesn't hesitate to cradle the baby, carrying him over to you and you take him into your arms.Dieter sees you holding the baby and his eyes sting. He understands now why you took the risk to hide the baby from him, from the studio. He wouldn't have wanted the child, not at first, and you would've been forced to have an abortion. Looking at his son, there's no way he could deny how much he already loves him. "He's small, but healthy. They want to observe him to make sure he's okay to go home in a few days." Dieter explains, sniffing as he reaches out to caress the baby's head.

“He’s okay.” You start crying again, relief and joy that your son is okay making you emotional. “Oh, baby boy. I’m so sorry that I didn’t hold you right away.” You coo, looking down at him. Counting fingers and unwrapping his blanket so you can count toes. “You are so precious, gorgeous.” Looking up at Dieter, you hope that he loves him as much as you do. “I’m so sorry baby, I know- I know you must hate me.”

Dieter swallows harshly, knowing he should because you kept it from him, lied to him about why you even wanted to be around him in the first place. “Baby. I- I should hate you. I should. But I can’t because - because I understand. Doll, I know why you had to keep him a secret. I just wish you’d told me. All those nights together…how didn’t I figure it out? I- I feel fucking stupid.” He shakes his head.

“No. You aren’t stupid.” You insist. “I was carrying small. The wardrobe head only knows because my dresses were a little tight. Even she says she’s not seen someone change so little carrying a baby.” You had worried, but the secret doctor you had seen assured you that the baby was healthy. You had visited him privately and paid him well to keep from reporting back to anyone who mattered.

Dieter shakes his head and closes his eyes, “I- I don’t know - fuck. A baby. I- I never imagined I’d be a father.” He confesses, closing his eyes in pain.

“Oh.” Your heart drops and you don’t have anyone to blame but yourself. You had hidden the pregnancy from Dieter and lied about why you were interested in him when you first met. “I understand.” You choke out, trying to keep from crying. “I- it’s okay.” You hold your son close. “I don’t- I’ll sign whatever you want. You can pretend that you never- that this is just a bad dream for you. I’m going to move out of L.A. Make it easier for you. My career is over anyway.”

Dieter shakes his head, hating that you misunderstood him. “Baby no. No. I- I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to lose you or the baby. I love you. I love you so much and I - you’re the best thing I’ve ever had. Baby doll, don’t leave. Stay with me. We will figure everything out.” He chokes, leaning in to press his forehead against yours.

“I was going to tell you this weekend.” You admit quietly. “I wanted to tell you, I almost did so many times.” You hate that he is hurt, hate that you hurt him. “I love you, I love you so much Dieter, and I was so afraid I was going to lose you. You are kind, funny, sweet, generous. So much more than you show everyone and I’m so lucky that you chose me.”

Dieter shifts to brush your lips with his. “I love you. You and our son. Fuck, we have a son.” Dieter says, reaching down to stroke the head of the baby at your breast. “I want to start my own studio.” He announces after a few moments.

“You do?” Your eyes widen in shock and despite that, you know Dieter would do well. During your late nights together, you had talked about different artistic shots you would add. He was talented in ways that would translate into director or producer well. “That’s great!”

Dieter is pleased that you think it’s a good idea. He agrees and leans in to kiss you, “we will figure it out baby. We have the contacts. No one gives a fuck about who’s behind the desk. They only care about who’s on the screen.

“We’ll figure it out.” You agree, knowing that there will be a lot to work out, but as long as Dieter wants to be a family, you will help however he needs. “But right now, we need to name our little boy.”

Dieter shifts to sit beside you, wrapping his arm around you and still stroking the baby’s head. “What names do you have in mind, baby doll? You’ve had longer to think about it than me.” He says that with no malice but it’s true.

“I didn’t think about names.” You admit. “I didn’t know what we were having and I couldn’t really decide names to pick. What name are you thinking?” You would love for your husband to name your son.

“What about Edward? Eddie for short?” He suggests, “it was, uh, it was my father’s name.” He reveals, knowing you have heard Dieter talk about his mom but no word about his father who died when he was a young man.

“What about your dad’s name? That way he has both of us.” Dieter smiles as he looks down at the now sleeping baby. You nod, repeating your father’s name. “I love it.” He grins, leaning in to softly kiss you. “So does this mean no sex for a while?” He teases, nudging his nose against yours.

You chuckle quietly as your son sleeps in your arms. “No sex, but I think I owe you quite a few blow jobs.” You admit, smirking. “To make up for keeping everything from you.”

Dieter chuckles, kissing your hair, “we have the rest of our lives for blowjobs, baby doll.” He promises, closing his eyes as he rests his head against yours. He adores you and he knows you need to have a serious talk about everything you kept from him but he loves you. He wouldn’t change anything now. You and Edward are his next big project. Hollywood can wait, Dieter has finally settled down and many in Hollywood will mourn the news (men and women alike) but he has found his leading lady and he intends to keep her for the rest of his life.

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑯𝑰𝑮𝑯 𝑬𝑵𝑶𝑼𝑮𝑯

pairing: dieter bravo x actress!reader x bodyguard!joel miller

genre: super duper explicit smut, actress & bodyguard au, minors dni

word count: 4.5k

summary: an afterparty, weed, drinks, a grumpy bodyguard, and an eccentric actor. What can go wrong?

warnings: mlm dynamics, threesome, blossoming feelings, messy two-person blowjob, piv, polyamorous, dieter has a praise kink, hair pulling, bdsm dynamics, high sex, getting high, this is an au where sarah was never conceived sorry, petnames all around (good boy/girl, sweetheart, darlin, honey), guidance kink, handjob, implied age gap reader being the youngest and joel being the oldest

a/n: you voted and here it is! This can be considered as a continuation of the drabble I wrote but you don't need to read that in order to read this. It just takes place in the same universe. enjoy! If you want to see more adventures of bodyguard!joel and actress!reader feel free to send requests xx

Joel is a grump. 

He knows this. Everyone does. He’s been called many things before in this industry: unkind, an asshole, a fucker, a bummer, a grumpy old man. But despite all the negative feedback, he’s never been out of a job. When it comes to feeling safe and secure, everyone realizes that pleasantries aren't really a priority. After a while, he learned to let those remarks bounce off of him. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy having fun; it’s the fact that this industry is riddled with slimy, untrustworthy characters. You could be happily sharing a drink one moment, and the next you could find your drunken words being sold off to the highest bidder. He has a lot of stories, some of which he wishes he could forget about.

However, he's not a kid. Far from it, actually. So he also knows that not everyone fits the bill of assholery. He's met some nice people, worked for them, and thanks to those nice people, he met you— one of the biggest rising stars of your generation. You're actually quite kind— albeit a bit of a brat, but he's starting to realize that side of you might be reserved only for him. Most impressively, you've managed to knit yourself a loving, supportive circle. He met your family once and has a sneaking suspicion they had something to do with your good manners.

Family. He misses his. Tommy still lived in Austin, running a not-so-shabby bar. 

Joel used to pride himself on not getting involved in his clients' affairs, but with you, that proved difficult.

A sea of people crashes into him, pushing him in the opposite direction of where he's trying to go. These Hollywood parties, they're always the same - loud music, annoying lights, and foaming glitter always coming from somewhere. He catches a whiff of champagne and strawberries. Rolling his eyes, he helps a director he barely knows who stumbles and nearly collapses on the shiny marble floors. With one swift motion, he grips her torso and lifts her back up. She slurs a drunken thank you and moseys off.

He hates it when you drag him to parties, and he hates it even more when you disappear. By some miracle, he spots you sitting down within the awfully lit room. You're wearing a mermaid-style dress (at least, that's what you told him prior to the event), which hugs your curves in all the right places. The fabric is covered in pearls, giving it a shimmering, iridescent quality that catches the light and reflects it into his eyes - thank fucking god, or else he suspects he'd never find you in this crowd.

His relief in finding you is short-lived when he sees who you’re sitting with. 

Fucking Dieter Bravo. 

You know he doesn’t like the man. Of course, you would sit with him just to spite Joel. That’s what he hopes this is anyway, he’s praying to every god he can think of (which isn’t many) that this isn’t a blooming friendship, or something else. He doesn’t think he can handle seeing that man more than he has to. 

Ironically, Joel actually used to work with Dieter. It only lasted for about a week as Dieter was just too unpredictable and chaotic for him. A complete hedonist who was used to getting what he wants. Before Joel could resign, Dieter had fired him. Which was good, because Joel wasn’t sure if he would’ve actually gone and done it. 

Joel feels a mixture of excitement and anxiety as your entire face lights up upon seeing him. With an open smile, you wave frantically and point to the couch across from the two of you. It's a tight fit, and his knees brush against both yours and Dieter's as he sits. The actor is holding a joint loosely between his fingers, looking up to Joel and nodding in a way that resembles an informal greeting. Joel notices the vibrant pattern of his button-up, the chain around his neck, and the rings on his fingers. Dieter takes a drag then offers it to you. Your gaze briefly meets Joel's before you take it from him. However, you don't immediately bring it to your lips.

“Where were you?” Joel asks loudly, trying to get his words over the sound of the music. “You can’t bring me to these things and then just disappear on me.” 

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” you answer with an apologetic smile. Joel narrows his eyes and you bring the neatly rolled joint to your glossy lips. You take a deep, long inhale. He watches the way your body seems to melt unconsciously. You close your eyes. “I just saw Dee and you know his habit of disappearing as soon as you blink. Had to pounce him before that happened.” 

Joel’s eyes drop to where Dieter slides an arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his eyes fixed on Joel. Your eyes flutter open and much to Joel’s surprise, you extend the joint to him. 

“Don’t bother, sweetheart,” Dieter says, his lips too close to your cheek. Joel bristles unknowingly. “He has a stick up his ass.” 

“Dieter!” you hiss, glaring daggers. “Behave.” 

“I don’t smoke on the job.” Joel says, a bit smugly and enjoying the other man’s prominent pout. “Unlike some, I’m a professional.” 

Dieter scoffs. The joint still lingers between your fingers, your gaze snapping to Joel. You accusatorily point at him, your brows drawn together. “And you—” you warn. “Don’t act so high and mighty. You’re off the clock remember? I invited you here so you would loosen up a little.” 

What? 

“What?” he blinks rapidly. “Why on earth would I need loosenin’ up? And why would I want to loosen up with you lot? This ain’t exactly my scene honey.” 

“Because we’re friends, smartass.” you chide. The burnt tip of the cigarette is now closer to your fingers. With a sigh, Joel finally takes it, which provokes a burst of laughter from Dieter. 

“She has you on a leash!” Dieter points out, fingers digging into your hip and moving over the pearls. “That’s fucking adorable.” 

Joel grunts, “Shut up.” he takes the joint clumsily, holding it up to his lips. It’s been a while since he’s done this. When he does he usually prefers the privacy of his own home. Joel ignores the way your eyes are fixed on him, two wide eager eyes eating him up from head to toe. 

He takes a deep inhale, his lungs expanding with smoke. Joel can taste the champagne you left behind. Goosebumps rise over his skin, a tingle, and a buzz making him groan. He allows the smoke to linger inside him, then, without parting from the joint much, he exhales. It’s very subtle, but he notices both you and Dieter taking deep breaths, filling yourselves with his breath. He’s amused. His lips twitch as he takes another drag. Then he extends it back to Dieter. The actor doesn’t waste much time and wraps his lips around the butt of the joint deliberately slow. Joel fights the urge to roll his eyes. Dieter takes a deep breath, exhaling cannabis in a way that the smoke doesn’t move forward, it pours from between his lips, like a dragon’s mouth. 

Joel doesn’t think much of it, now feeling more relaxed than ever, he says, “You look surprisingly cleaned up. They groomed you well.” 

“Does it look like I care what you think?” Dieter snaps back, and Joel frowns. 

“I think the word you’re looking for is thank you,” you say, words directed at Dieter. Your eyes flit between the two tense men. “Also I'm starting to think you two have some history together.” 

“Didn’t your knight in shining armor tell you?” Dieter grins, rather smug. “He used to work for me.” 

You turn to Joel, brows pinched together with confusion. “You did?” 

Joel rolls his eyes, ignoring the way his cheeks heat up under your gaze. “It was a long time ago.” 

“I fired him.” 

“How come?” 

“Too distracting.” 

Joel breathes a little too fast, the air catching in his throat. He clears his throat, his veins alive with tension. It almost feels like it’s the only three of them now. The rest of the room fading and turning black. Joel leans forward, the already tight space becoming even tighter. 

“Excuse me?” Joel asks, his speech slurred. “What do you mean “too distractin’”?” 

Neither of them answers you. Actors, he thinking begrudgingly, a puff of air parting his lips. Dieter brings the joint to your lips and without taking it from him, you look at Joel. He watches as your lips brush against the length of Dieter’s fingers. Annoyance brews in his stomach. 

“Is he like this with you too? Oblivious?” Dieter asks you. You grin, teeth shining under the dim lights and you nod. The actor’s tongue pokes out from between his lips and swipes over his bottom lip. “Poor baby.” 

“You two are startin’ to get on my nerves,” Joel grumbles, crossing his arms across his broad chest. 

You stick your tongue out and Joel has half the urge to grab it between his fingers and teach you a lesson. He hadn’t noticed, but the joint had made its way back to him. Slightly confused and disoriented, he finishes it off. The last bit of it burning his throat and lungs. He’s incredibly flustered, heat crawling up from his chest to his cheeks. He doesn’t miss the way you and Dieter steal glances at each other, smiling giddily. 

Finally, you find Joel’s gaze, a Cheshire-cat like grin plastered on your face—he’s slightly creeped out by it actually. 

“How about we show you what we mean?” 

Joel should’ve said no. This is the last time he’s ever coming to one of these damn parties. 

Joel wasn’t thinking much when Dieter led all of you to one of the many bedrooms in the residence. Your hand was clutched tightly around his, and per instinct, he had held on to you just as tight. And as soon as the three of them entered the stupidly large bedroom with an equally stupidly large bed, he found himself sitting on the edge with his pants down. The two actors knelt between his legs, eyes hungry and mouths flooded. 

He has to admit, it’s a rather enticing view. 

Dieter wraps his fingers around the base while you kiss the inside of Joel’s thigh. Heat settles at the base of his spine, his cock twitching and growing thanks to Dieter’s slow strokes. You drag your lips up, kissing his shaft before swirling your tongue around the head. A strangled moan leaves him. Joel’s gaze drops, only to see Dieter staring back at him. He holds his breath as the other grins from one ear to the other. 

“You like that?” he coos, darting his tongue out. He licks a clean stripe up, the curve of his nose brushing against yours. “God, the number of times I came in my pants thinking about this. . .” 

Joel’s quick to follow up, “You thought about this?” 

Your sudden bubble of laughter makes him frown. His lips become a tight line, his teeth clenched as he grinds the molars together. He watches as you ignore him and pull away. You cradle Dieter’s cheek, and as if he read your mind, the actor leans in, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. Joel tenses. His skin taut over muscle. His cock stands with attention, beads of precum rolling down his length. The thought of his taste lingering on your tongue, being passed to Dieter—his chest heaves, maybe he is too old for this. 

He sees Dieter shoving his tongue between your lips and you moan into his mouth, Dieter swallows the noises you make eagerly. Joel is surprised he’s not feeling any jealousy or protectiveness. Usually, when the actor attempts to make passes at you he puffs up like a rooster. But not his time. Dieter cups your face with two hands, tilting your head so he can kiss you deeper. Only then it dawns on Joel that the reason he was bothered before wasn’t that he hated the actor—though he still found him annoying—but because he wanted to be included. He almost laughs. Loneliness truly is a bitch. His fingers twitch and he makes a move to cup himself, he pouts when his hand is batted away by no one other than you. 

“No,” you say wetly with swollen lips. “We’re going to take care of you. Isn’t that right, Dee?” the second half of the sentence is directed at the actor who looks just as debauched. But he manages to nod anyway. Then your gaze moves back up to Joel. “Okay?” 

He’s lost for words for a brief moment, mouth opening and closing before he can find his speech again. “Okay.” 

It’s messy. Debauched. Downright sinful. And Joel is ninety percent sure this is all a dream and his alarm is about to burst through the speaker of his phone. Dieter purses his lips and spits into his palm, coating Joel’s shaft with a generous amount. You kiss the head and swallow him halfway, your nostrils flaring as you try to take more of him. Joel’s hand lifts to comfort you but Dieter beats him to it. The actor leans into your ear, smiling slyly. He pulls down the straps of your dress and exposes your breasts. Joel’s mouth feels dry all of a sudden. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. You’re doing so well,” Dieter purrs, Joel can barely hear him. “Just breathe through your nose, don’t rush it. He’s a big boy, isn’t he? Flatten your tongue and swallow. That’s it. . .” Joel’s arms buckle as you do what you’re told, his eyes rolling back. Dieter kisses your cheek and kneads your breasts, thumbs wiping over the pebbled nipples. “You’re making him so happy right now. Such a talented girl.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Joel groans, slightly thrusting into your mouth. Dieter meets his gaze and winks, a wide grin spread across his handsome face. 

Handsome. Joel finds Dieter handsome, always has. Though he always assumed he found him handsome in a more general way, the same way he found Oscar Isaac handsome. Some people just are. But he’s starting to think he might like the infuriating actor a bit more than he thought. Or maybe it’s just from the heat of the moment and the weed still buzzing in his veins. Regardless, he’s enjoying the view very much. God, what has he gotten himself into? 

You swirl your tongue and hollow your cheeks. More praise drips from Dieter’s lips. Without thinking much of it, Joel reaches out and touches the side of Dieter’s face. The actor stills for a moment, brows furrowing, a delicious shade of red coloring his cheeks. Joel drags the pad of his thumb down Dieter’s cheek and then cups him tenderly. 

“Good boy,” Joel says before his filter kicks in. “You’re doin’ so well too.” 

Dieter’s face is priceless. He’s stunned into silence, eyes wide and round, lips parted. A low chuckle trembles within Joel’s chest, he continues to trace his thumb up and down the contours of his cheek. Dieter leans into the touch ever so slightly, eyelids fluttering. You must notice the change in the air because you pull away and drag a pointed tongue down Joel’s length. Then you grip Dieter’s chin and guide him down. 

“Have a taste, Dee.”

Joel watches with bated breath as you guide Dieter down towards his aching member. The actor's lips part and his breath hitches as he takes in the sight before him. He looks up at Joel, his eyes dark, before finally taking him in his mouth, tongue swirling and lips tight. The actor's eyes never leave Joel's as he bobs his head, taking more and more of him into his mouth. Joel’s legs shake, his lungs expand, it feels too much, everything tumbling onto him like an avalanche. 

Joel's head falls back, his eyes closing as he feels the warmth of Dieter's mouth. He can hear the wet sounds of his mouth moving over him, the way his lips slide up and down his length, and he can't help but let out a low moan.

You reach out and grab Joel's hand, entwining your fingers. Your touch electric. Leaning over you capture Joel's lips with your own. He moans into your mouth, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

Dieter pulls back, a thin line of saliva connecting his lips to Joel's length. He looks up at Joel with a wicked grin, before taking him back into his mouth. Parting away from you, Joel groans, hips bucking up involuntarily. But when he sees Dieter grinding into his palm, his cock hard and aching under his pants, Joel tugs on his hair, fucking his mouth with shallow strokes. 

Joel’s eyes go wide when the other man chokes, the sound of it equivalent to someone raking their nails over his body. His stomach flips. Something raw and visceral awakening inside him. He thrusts deeper, the head going down the other’s throat. Dieter chokes again and Joel moans, loudly. His heart beating too fast. 

With the corner of his eyes, Joel watches your movements with a parted mouth. You dip lower and drag your lips up his shaft, your mouth meeting Dieter’s. You both mouth at him simultaneously, your tongues dancing. Joel fists the sheets. His eyes fixed where his cock disappears and reappears between their lips. The two moan at the same time, the reverberations seeping into the sensitive skin of his cock and making him shudder. His muscles grow taut. Precum heavily coating both of their lips. Dieter dips his tongue into the slit groaning at the taste, and you unbutton the actor’s pants, sliding your hand under his boxer briefs. 

“Oh god,” Joel swallows thickly, his voice hoarse. “I’m gonna come—” he can feel his body tensing, his breaths coming in short gasps as he gets closer and closer.

You pull away and Dieter follows. Instinctively, Joel pulls at Dieter’s hair, willing the other back to his cock. His cock twitches when Dieter’s eyes roll back at the blossoming pain. You climb up the bed, cradling Joel’s face before slipping his tongue into his mouth. It’s a quick one but leaves him breathless nonetheless. 

“I want you to fuck me,” you mutter, lips moving over his beard. “Will you, please?” 

Joel helps you up to your feet, his hands still shaking slightly as he pushes down your dress, finishing what Dieter had started. He dips down, sucking a nipple into his mouth. His cock drips at the way you moan for him. Dieter stands behind him, his fingers trailing down the center of Joel's back as he helps him out of his shirt. 

You reach for Dieter's pants, feeling the heat rising in your chest as you gaze into his eyes. He watches you intently, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. You slide the zipper down slowly, your fingers brushing against the growing bulge in his boxer briefs. 

Joel steps back, allowing you to guide Dieter towards the bed. He climbs up first, propping himself up against the headboard, his eyes fixed on the scene unfolding in front of him. You kneel on the bed beside Dieter, your fingers reaching for the waistband of his underwear. You tug them down slowly, revealing his cock, already hard and throbbing. 

Joel's breath catches in his throat as he watches you take Dieter's cock into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head before sliding down the shaft. Then you pull away from him with a pop and lay down next to him, your head resting on his hip. Dieter’s hands smooth down your body, spreading your thighs. He holds Joel’s gaze as the older man’s mouth suddenly feels dry at the sight of you. 

Joel moves between your legs, his fingers tracing over your slick folds, making you moan softly. He positions himself at your entrance, his eyes locked onto yours as he slowly pushes inside you. He can feel you getting wetter with every inch. You claw at Dieter’s bicep and he shushes you, one hand moving to the swell of your breasts and holding it gingerly. The small hairs across Joel’s body stand up when you let out a sharp whimper. 

“Dieter,” you whine, eyes glossy. “H-He feels so good.” 

God, you’re shaking around him, your pretty pussy squeezing him. Joel grunts. 

“I bet he does,” Dieter murmurs, eyes looking at where you and Joel connect. He’s only halfway in. “Want me to play with your pretty clit, baby? You’re taking him so well.” 

You nod quickly and Dieter doesn’t make you repeat yourself. Joel swallows. Dieter begins to draw quick, tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasp, your lips barely touching Dieter’s shaft. Joel feels you clenching around him, walls fluttering thanks to the actor. Dieter makes a point of brushing the tips of his fingers while attending to your need, and every time Joel feels it, his cock throbs. He buries himself deep inside you, forcing the air from your lungs. Your back arches beautifully, your nails leaving crescent moon-shaped marks into Dieter’s skin. 

Joel's breathing is ragged, his eyes locked onto yours as he pumps into you harder and harder. Your eyes flutter closed. His fingers dig into your hips, anchoring you to the bed as he pounds into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. 

“Hold me,” you cry out, head turning to Dieter. Joel’s thrusts become harder, faster. “Shit—He’s in so deep.” 

Dieter obliges, wrapping his arms around your trembling frame as your body sways back and forth with the strength of Joel’s thrusts. 

“You’re taking him so well, sweetheart,” Dieter groans, his own cock heavy and dark between his legs. “You look so beautiful with him buried between his legs.” suddenly his eyes snap to Joel’s, and the older man falters a bit, his pacing becoming uneven. “Doesn’t she?” he asks him. 

“She does,” Joel grunts out a response. 

You let out a whimper, Joel can feel you convulsing. Your body growing taut and tense, you’re close. Joel’s not that far from it himself, dangling over the edge.  

“She’s such a good girl,” Dieter continues, eyes never leaving Joel’s. “Isn’t she?” 

“Jesus, she is. So fuckin’ good to me. Always.” 

And with that, Joel witnesses your fall from heaven.

He watches with awe as you writhe and convulse around him, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Your body trembles with every pulse of pleasure that courses through you, and your breaths come in short gasps. You arch your back, a low moan escapes your lips, and your body tenses up around Joel's length. Your fingers dig into Dieter’s forearms s as you ride out the waves of ecstasy that ripple through your body. Joel can feel your inner walls squeezing him tightly, and he groans.

Joel can feel your wetness coating his cock, and the slickness only intensifies the pleasure he feels. He continues to thrust into you, his pace quickening as he chases his own release. Somewhere in the distance, he can hear Dieter praising you both, though mostly you, and he shudders. 

Your orgasm starting to subside, he feels your body relaxing against him. He slows his pace, savoring the feeling of your hot, slick walls wrapped tightly around him. He wants to make this last as long as possible, to make you feel every inch of him. However, Joel knows nothing lasts forever. 

He’s right at the edge when he pulls out, spilling over your stomach. His hot breath slides over your skin, his head buried between your breasts. Unthinking, he presses heavy, wet kisses. The tremors of his orgasm slowly fades and Joel realizes that among the three of them, there’s still one person left unsatisfied. 

Joel looks up to Dieter. Despite his cock still being hard, the head an angry shade of red, he looks content with just peppering the top of your head with kisses. But he must’ve sensed the bodyguard staring because Dieter’s eyes meet his. 

“You didn’t come,” Joel states. 

Dieter rolls his eyes, “No shit,” he follows it up with a shrug. “But it’s okay. Seeing you two going at it was satisfying enough.” 

Joel moves his jaw, thinking, contemplating on what to do. Your lids are heavy as your eyes move back and forth. Watching. The older man comes to a decision and peels himself away from you. 

“Can I?” he asks, pointing at Dieter’s dick. The actor flushes. 

“Can you what?” he answers, voice squeaky. 

“Um. . .Jerk you off. It’s only fair.” 

Joel reaches out a hand and tentatively wraps it around Dieter's shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze. Dieter lets out a small moan. His fingers start moving up and down, slowly at first, getting a feel for Dieter's size and shape. Joel has done this with another once or twice before and he can sense his confidence that was already hanging by a thread slowly dissolving. He looks up at Dieter who is already staring at him with half hooded eyes.   

“Is this good?” Joel asks, licking his lips. 

“Fuck yes. I’ll take whatever you give me.” 

Joel’s eyes widen at the admission. He tightens his grip and strokes him faster. Your hand comes up to Dieter’s chest, caressing flushed skin with a smile. You lean closer and kiss his neck, which Dieter hums gratefully. Joel feels the heat emanating from Dieter's body, and the slight tremble in his legs as Joel picks up the pace. 

"Good boy," Joel murmurs, watching as Dieter's eyes close and his mouth falls open. "So well behaved than from what I give him credit for."

Dieter lets out a soft whimper, his hips bucking up into Joel's hand. Joel adjusts his grip, tightening his fingers around Dieter's cock as he works him harder. Dieter drips all over his fingers and he uses it to lubricate his movements.

"You're so hard," Joel whispers, his mouth suddenly feeling incredibly dry. His gaze falls on you with slight envy, a tingle spreading throughout his lips. A desire to lay his lips on the other man and feel his frantic pulse for himself is a strong one, but he swallows it down. "You want to come, don't you?"

Dieter nods frantically, his breathing ragged. Joel can feel his own cock twitching. 

"That's it, let go," Joel encourages, stroking him faster and swiping his palm over the head. "Come for us."

With a loud groan, Dieter's body tenses, and Joel can feel the hot spurt of cum as it lands on his hand and on Dieter's stomach. Joel keeps jerking him through his orgasm, murmuring words of encouragement as Dieter's body shakes with pleasure.

Finally, as Dieter's breathing evens out, Joel releases him, wiping his hand on the bedsheet. Dieter looks up at him with a dazed expression, a small smile on his lips.

"Thanks," he says, his voice hoarse.

Joel exhales a stuttered breath, not really knowing what else to say. "Anytime."

“Awwww,” you chime in giddily which gets on Joel’s nerves. “Look at my two boys getting along.” 

[burntheedges]

Roll-A-Trope Challenge Masterlist

Y'all the response to this challenge blew me away!! 🥺🥰 We are going to have so many amazing fics to read! 🧡 Check here for all of the character/trope pairings from when people joined.

I'll link each one as they're posted. Under the cut you'll soon find fics for Dave York, Dieter Bravo, Din Djarin, Dio Morrissey, Ezra (Prospect), Frankie Morales, Jack Daniels, Javi Gutierrez, Javier Peña, Joel Miller, Marcus Acacius, Marcus Moreno, Marcus Pike, Max Phillips, Nathan Landry, Oberyn Martell, Pero Tovar, and Tim Rockford! And so many amazing tropes!!

Last updated: 12/27 | Fic count: 56!

Dave York

Audience of One by @katareyoudrilling | 3k | Dave x f!reader Trope: famous person AU

Can You Remember Who You Were? by @punkshort | 9.1k | Dave x f!reader Trope: reincarnation

Danger Zone by @almostempty | 6k | Dave x Lana Kane (you) x Sterling Archer (crossover with Archer (TV)) Trope: snowed in

Down Bad by @schnarfer | 6.1k | Dave x f!reader | part 2 Trope: only one bed (and bonus, it's a coffee shop AU!)

It's Only Make Believe by @jennaispunk | 7k | Dieter x f!actress!reader Trope: fake dating

Sunshine & Rainbows by @jeewrites | 10.1k | Dave x f!reader Trope: amnesia

Dieter Bravo

Broken Hearts Mended by @bitchesuntitled | 6.1k | Dieter x f!reader Trope: time travel

Just like the Picture by @nerdieforpedro | 936 | Dieter x gn!reader Trope: landlord

Teleportation and Blue Whiskey (part 1) by @davnittbraes | 1.5k | Dieter x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator

this protector by @perotovar | 3.1k | Dieter x Din Trope: only one bed

Din Djarin

Familiar yet Foreign by @whxtedreams | 3.7k | Din x f!reader Trope: fake marriage

New Home (Part 1) by @weirdoneattheparty | 2.1k | Din x f!reader Trope: friends to lovers

something worse by @corazondebeskar-reads | 3.2k | Din x f!reader Trope: enemies to lovers

The Long Way Round by @din-cognito | 3.17k | Din x gn!reader Trope: road trip

Dio Morrissey

Crimes Against Each Other by @crowandmousewritingco | 2.9k | Dio x trans!reader Trope: enemies to lovers

Ezra (Prospect)

To Leave the Green by @cas-readsandwrites | 2k | Ezra & Cee, gen Trope: time loop

Frankie Morales

a kiss, my panacea by @skittlesfics | 917 | Frankie x gn!reader Trope: sickfic

Better Love by @docharleythegeekqueen | 3.4k | Frankie x reader Trope: snowed in

Dreamers (part 1) by @beefrobeefcal | 3.4k | Frankie x reader Trope: soulmates | now with Part 2!

Forever starts tonight by @sawymredfox | 3.6k | Frankie x f!reader Trope: pining

GOING DOWN by @aurorawritestoescape | 3.4k | Frankie x f!reader and Joel x f!reader Trope: exes

I Like You A Latte by @inept-the-magnificent | 752 | Frankie x f!reader Trope: coffee shop AU

I'm Yours by @ashleyfilm | 3.2k | Frankie x reader Trope: secret relationship

To Feel Your Body Against Mine by @flightlessangelwings | 4.5k | Frankie x f!reader Trope: secret relationship

Jack Daniels

i'd give anything for more time by @penvisions | 2k | Jack x f!reader trope: time loop

If I should die before you do by @maggiemayhemnj | 1.7k | Jack x f!reader trope: soulmates

Life's a Dance by @wordywarriorwrites | 2k | Jack x reader Trope: didn't know they were dating

Lucid Dreams by @fhatbhabiee | 3.2k | Jack x reader Trope: friends to lovers

Javi Gutierrez

Things You Knew by @eff4freddie | 8k | Javi G x reader Trope: soulmates

To Make a Day for You by @yopossum | 3k? | Javi G x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator

Javier Peña

3 sides of a man by @milla-frenchy | 3.3k | Javi x f!reader Trope: secret relationship

between two floors by @glowingxeyes | 1k | Javi x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator | there’s a part 2 and 3!

GOING DOWN by @almostfoxglove | 3.3k | Javi P x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator

good guys, bad deeds by @miss-oranje-disco-dancer | 3.9k | Javi x f!reader Trope: only one bed

Joel Miller

Birds of a Feather by @whocaresstillthelouvre | 5.3k | Joel x f!reader Trope: snowed in

Besties by @butterphii | >1k | Joel x f!reader

drive by @kedsandtubesocks | 2k | Joel x f!reader Trope: road trip

For Better or Worse by @captainredspade | Joel x f!reader Trope: fake marriage

Fragile State by @galway-girlatwork | 2.5k | Joel x OFC!Tara Trope: amnesia

Galway Girl by @yxtkiwiyxt | 7k | Joel x f!reader | part 2!! Trope: soulmates

If You're Reading This by @crowandmousewritingco | 4.5k | Joel x nb!reader Trope: epistolary

It Had To Be You by @jobean12-blog | 4.8k | Joel x f!reader Trope: enemies to lovers

Wish by @hotgirlbedtimescenarios | 1.7k Trope: time travel

Marcus Acacius

Searching for the stars by @the-mandawhor1an | 2.7k | Marcus x f!reader Trope: time travel

Marcus Moreno

Through Every Lifetime by @joelalorian | 4.5k | Marcus x f!reader Trope: reincarnation

Marcus Pike

Pike's Place by @pedges-world | Marcus x reader Trope: snowed in | series!!

Max Phillips

A Little Broken by @clawdeewritesfanfic | 3.2k | Max x f!reader Trope: pining

Time After Time by @grogusmum | drabble | Max x f!reader Trope: reincarnation

Nathan Landry

consensus ad idem by @sunshinehaze1 | 4.9k | Nathan x f!reader Trope: snowed in

Oberyn Martell

sweet and sour by @iamasaddie | 5.5k | Oberyn x f!reader Trope: fake relationship

The Correspondence of the Contagious by @crowandmousewritingco | 1.4k | Oberyn x gn!reader x Ellaria Trope: epistolary

Pero Tovar

Memories made, memories lost by @avastrasposts | 7.9k | Pero x f!reader Trope: amnesia

nothing is sure by @tinytinymenace | 2.5k | Pero x OFC Trope: didn't know they were dating

Tim Rockford

|Bump in the Night| by @dc418writes | Tim x black!reader Trope: friends to lovers

Keep Quiet by @auteurdelabre | Tim x f!reader Trope: secret relationship

When Only Memories Remain by @artsy-girl-76 | 3.4k | Tim x f!reader Trope: "shop" AU

[jennaispunk]

It's Only Make Believe

Summary: What began as a publicity stunt turns into much more than you expected.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!actress!reader

Rating: T

Word Count: ~7k

Tags and Warnings: fluff, allusions to smut, kissing, drug use, Dieter is a goofball but so sweet, anxiety, allusions to body shaming/bullying (reader receiving, not from Dieter), fake dating, unspoken feelings, longing, reader has a nickname but no physical description of reader is mentioned. If I forgot anything, please let me know.

A/N: This is for Kate's @burntheedges Roll-A-Trope Challenge (I got fake dating as my trope). I'm sorry this is so late. Moodboard by @notjustjavierpena (Thank you Siggy!! The moodboard is gorgeous and fits the vibe perfectly 💜) Dividers by @saradika-graphics. Thank you @clawdee for beta reading. A special shout to my discord peeps who sprinted with me and offered their encouragement and advice. There are too many of you to list individually, but I think you know who you are. This is my first go at Dieter, so I hope I made the Dieter girlies (gn) proud.

 This dress costs more than my first car...

You stare at yourself in the full-length mirror. The floor-length blue gown sparkles, even in the inadequate lighting of your tiny apartment. It hugs all your curves perfectly and even you’re impressed with how sexy you look. 

This is your first award show since coming to Hollywood, and your first public appearance with Dieter. You swallow hard as your hands smooth your dress. He’s going to be here any minute, and you’re so nervous you could vomit. This isn’t like all the other times, far away setups where people can only guess what the looks between you mean, can only guess what you’re saying to one another. This is the real deal; you have to sell this.

A knock on your door snaps you from your thoughts and he enters the room. Your breath is almost stolen from your lungs as you gaze at him. This is a far cry from the baggy t-shirts and lounge pants you’re used to seeing him in; he cleans up nicely. Sure, he’s still got the same messy mop of hair and scruffy beard, but he looks good. He’s actually wearing real pants…and a jacket, and you stifle a giggle. Somehow you knew that he would refuse to wear a tie and the top two buttons of his crisp, white dress shirt were left undone, giving a peak of his smooth chest. Even the gold hoop in this left ear stood out to you tonight.

“Whoa,” he muttered under his breath.

He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t look away.  You looked stunning in that shade of blue. His eyes locked onto the smooth skin of your thigh playing peek-a-boo with him through the slit in your dress and he swallows hard.

“Cat got your tongue, Bravo?” you tease. “I’ve never known you to be at a loss for words.”

“Huh?”

His hand shoots up to his earring and he tugs it. A sheepish smile creeps across his plump lips.

“Oh, uh, you look nice,” he stammers.

Real smooth, he thinks as he drinks in your beauty. You look more than nice but he couldn’t get the words out. He’s never been so tongue-tied in front of a woman before. He’s charmed the panties off supermodels, for fuck’s sake. Jesus Christ, how can this woman turn him into such a blubbering idiot?

Your brow furrows for the briefest moment before smiling weakly. That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping for, but you quickly swallow your disappointment. It was foolish of you to expect any other response.

“We should get going. I don’t want to be late.”

The limo slows to a stop. You can barely make out the lights and sounds through the tinted glass window, but the buzz is undeniable. Nothing could have prepared you for what you were about to experience as the limo door opened and Dieter helped you step out and onto the red carpet. 

Flashing cameras and lights surrounded you. Voices yelling, calling for Dieter's attention, trying to catch the perfect photo or get a quick interview. Security guards hold back fans desperate for attention from their favorite stars and people hurrying back and forth across the carpet trying to keep things moving. 

Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. Your heart pounded in your chest as your eyes squint, almost blinded by the never-ending flashes of light. You don’t know if you can do this. Broadway premiers were way more low-key.  How can you subject yourself to the scrutiny knowing that one misstep or odd look on your face could be dissected and discussed like you’re not even a real person?

Dieter glances your way and his heart drops a little. You’re smiling, looking like a goddess under the lights, but your back is almost too straight, and your hands lay glued to the sides of your thighs. Someone who didn’t know you wouldn’t think twice about it, but he knew you were struggling. The tension was radiating off you in waves. He knew that feeling all too well and immediately grabbed your hand, gently tugging you closer. 

Your eyes snap to meet his as he laces his fingers with yours. He gives your hand a quick but firm squeeze and that silly, lopsided grin is on his face. Your muscles slowly begin to relax, and the world starts to slow down. That stupid little smile was exactly what you needed, grounding you in a way you never expected. 

He moves even closer to you, the tip of his nose barely brushing the shell of your ear. Instinctively, your body angles toward him as his warm breath ghosts your cheek. 

“Relax, cupcake,” he whispers in your ear. “You’re going to be fine. Just think of something that makes you happy.”

Your soft gasp was swallowed by the din. Dieter was giving you advice, giving you good advice. Maybe you had underestimated him. 

All you could think about was this moment right here, the way the two of you were pressed together like two lovers sharing an intimate secret, and you smile. It’s only make-believe, you remind yourself. Just another performance, another role to play; but it’s starting to feel all too real. 

You knock on his door with your heart pounding. It feels a little hard to breathe. No one had prepared you for this. Your weight shifts from foot to foot as you wait for him to answer.

“Come on, come on, come on.”

Maybe he isn’t even here. It’s not like you even gave him a heads-up that you were coming. What if he has someone here? You suddenly feel sick to your stomach at the thought. If he opens the door with a naked girl behind him, you’ll die of embarrassment right on the spot.

You take a step back, turning to go when the door flies open, and Dieter is staring back at you with his shirt splotched with paint. You breathe a little easier when you realize he’s fully clothed and it appears that he’s alone.

“What’s up?”

He can’t hide the look of surprise on his face at seeing you at his door. You’re the last person he expected to show up unannounced, but he can’t deny he’s happy to see you.

“Sorry to bother you,” you answer softly. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

His face falls as he realizes something’s up with you. You’re normally pretty stoic, careful to not let your emotions show. He can feel the tension rolling off you in waves.

“It’s fine, cupcake,” he responds with a little smirk. “Come in.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname as he steps aside to let you enter. You’re not sure exactly when that nickname became something that didn’t annoy you, but you’ve come to like it. The last three weeks have shown you a different side of Dieter, one that you like and want to see more often.

Your eyes immediately scan his apartment. It’s not what you thought it would be at all. You expected chaos and mess but it’s tidy and very well decorated. The art on the walls is a little abstract for your taste but it matches Dieter’s vibe. You can’t help but wonder if he had decorated the apartment himself or just chosen the art.

“Do you want to tell me what brought you here or should I guess?”

He’s smirking at you, and you're torn between smacking him and kissing him. Why does he have to be so adorable when he does that? You take a deep breath and wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans.

You feel so silly now that you’re here. What are you supposed to say? You’re here because your feelings got hurt?

You silently pull out your phone and hand it to him. You have the webpage already open, and you watch him as he reads.

He reads it over without saying a word. He’s been here before and he knows just how cruel people can be. His heart hurts for you and he hands you back your phone.

“Ouch.”

He says nothing more and you just stare at him. Your blood starts to boil at his lack of words.

“That’s all you have to say?” you ask, your voice rising in pitch. “Did you even read what they said about me?”

Those were some of the most vile, hateful words you’d ever read. All from people who’d never met you, who knew next to nothing about you. You had never experienced vitriol like this before.

“I read it.”

He sighed and dragged his hand through his messy hair. He had to think of a way to talk you down without making you more upset.

“You know you’ve made it to the big time when people talk about you like that.”

Your teeth clench so hard your jaw aches. What are you supposed to do?  You can’t just ignore it. You want to clap back at all these people. Who the hell do they think they are, talking about you like that? Don’t they realize you have feelings too?

He can see you spiraling. You’re heading down a dangerous path, and he knows firsthand how destructive it can be.

“Hey.”

He gently grabs you by the shoulders forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t feed into that shit, okay? That’s what they do. They want you to get so worked up that you pull some Britney Spears type stunt and then they’ll talk about you even more. You’re better than that.”

You sigh softly as you look at him. You know he’s right, but you can’t help how much it’s hurting your feelings.

“How do you ignore it?” You ask quietly. “How do you block all these idiots?”

He gives you his trademark crooked smirk, the one that simultaneously makes you weak in the knees and slightly annoyed.

“That’s easy.”

He wiggles his brows and holds up a small bag of what looks like gummy bears and gives the bag a little shake. Those gummy bears are not the kind you buy at 7-11 and you can’t help but playfully scoff.

“Wanna try?”

You bite your lip as you think about it. You were never into substances, even during your brief rebellious stage as a teenager. One bad experience made you shy away from them and stick to alcohol instead. You don’t even know what’s in that little gummy bear, and the last thing you need is to not be in control of yourself.

“It’s nothing too crazy,” he says, answering your unspoken question. “I’m done with the hard stuff, you know that. These are an indica strain, for relaxation and anxiety.”

He holds the bag out to you, and you swallow hard. He had told you about rehab and how hard he worked to give up coke and the harder drugs.

“Trust me?”

His voice is so soft, matching the look in his eyes. If there’s one thing you know about Dieter, it’s that he doesn’t lie, at least not to you anyway. He’s honest, almost to a fault.

You slowly reach in and take a red gummy bear from the bag. He takes it from you and cuts it in half and hands it to you. Your eyes meet his as you hold it in between your thumb and index finger. What the hell, you think to yourself. Maybe this would be good for you, he’s always telling you that you need to loosen up. A soft exhale leaves your lips.

“Yeah, I trust you.”

His signature crooked smile adorns his face once again. There’s almost a sense of pride behind that smile. He’s not used to being trusted.

He takes his half of the gummy and pops it into his mouth.

“You’ll like it, I promise.”

You giggle softly as he chomps on the bear and talks at the same time. His childlike qualities can sometimes be aggravating, but cute.

He watches you as you eat your gummy. It tastes just like a regular gummy bear, and you can’t help but wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into.

“There’s one other thing I do to block out all the noise. Come on, I’ll show you.”

He grabs your hands and leads you further into his apartment. Your stomach flutters as you stop at a closed door at the end of the hall. You have no idea what awaits you and you can only imagine what you're about to see.

He opens the door to reveal an art studio. Paints and canvases are strewn about the room, some with no more than a few haphazard strokes on them. Your jaw hits the floor. This is not what you expected at all. He had talked about his art before, but you had no idea he was this serious about it or this talented.

You step into the room and marvel at the display before you. His work is beautiful, a bit abstract, but stunning, nonetheless. This is the type of art you’d see staged at a gallery and you wonder why he’s never showcased his work.

He quickly moves to throw a sheet over a canvas, hiding it from your view. He almost stumbles in his haste to keep you from seeing what he’s painted.

You’re sure you catch a glimpse of a woman, but you can’t be sure. You open your mouth to ask him why he covered the painting then quickly close it. There’s a reason that he doesn’t want you to see it. It would be rude to ask why.

His sigh is audible when he realizes you aren’t going to ask any questions. He didn’t want you to know that he was painting you, not yet anyway. His heart thudded in his chest, he wasn’t ready for you to know how much you’ve consumed his thoughts, how much you help to quiet his mind.

Your eyes are drawn to another piece, and you move closer to get a better look. You can see what you think is a woman’s face with her mouth open, but the entire piece is blurred, shading and lines obscure the image. Sadness washes over you as you study the canvas. You identify with that woman, although you can’t explain why.

He wipes his palms down his pants as you take it all in. This is his safe space, his private sanctuary where he can be himself and not what everyone else wants or expects him to be. This place wasn’t shared with just anyone. He could count the number of people that have been in this room on one hand and still have fingers left over.   

“Do you like it?”

You jump a foot as his soft voice hits your ears. You were so engrossed in the painting that you never heard him come up behind you.

“Dee, this is…beautiful.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper. You don’t even know why you’re whispering; it just feels like the right thing to do.

You look over your shoulder and Dieter is smiling like you’ve never seen him smile before.

“Eh, it’s alright. Not my best work.”

You can feel his pride beaming off him but he’s trying to play it off as it’s no big deal.

“You want to watch the master at work?” he teased.

You roll your eyes and scoff. You want to watch him paint. Maybe it would help you understand him better. Maybe it would help you understand yourself, why you’re so inexplicably drawn to him, and find yourself more attracted to him with every moment you spend together.

He didn’t let anyone watch him paint. It was too personal, too intimate to allow anyone into that sanctuary. But he didn’t mind you watching him. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. He hoped that this was the way to get you to let your guard down.

He winks at you, then turns to his canvas. He carefully studies it for a moment, and you can almost see the wheels turning in his head. His brow furrows and his lips purse ever so slightly. This is a side of him you’ve never seen before; the carefree, chaotic mess is gone. Before you stands a man who is calm, thoughtful and relaxed.

You watch in awe as the first brush stroke hits the canvas. His movements are purposeful, he knows exactly what he’s doing. The colors swirl and blend together, oranges and reds evoking heat. That’s when you realize the edible has taken effect. Warmth slowly spreads through your body, radiating out like lazy, creeping vines down your arms and legs into your fingers and toes. It’s peaceful, like curling up in your favorite blanket on a chilly night. You’re drawn into this beautiful world as you feel the tension and worry leaving your body, keenly aware of how his paintbrush caresses the canvas. It stirs something within you. Would he touch you with that kind of reverence? Would his fingers glide that easily across your skin?

“Everything alright, cupcake?”

His voice cuts through your daydream and your eyes snap to meet his.

“Hmm?”

Your cheeks start to burn as he stares at you, the paintbrush still in his hand. All you can think about is how you shouldn’t be having these thoughts right now.

“Where’d you go?”

His lips curl into a lopsided smirk. You’re embarrassed and he knows it. He chuckles softly and wonders what he would find if he got into that pretty little head of yours. Are you thinking the same thing he is? Are you thinking about what it would be like if your body was his canvas?

You laugh a little too loudly and tuck your hair behind your ear. Get it together.

“Nowhere…” you say softly. “Just admiring your work. You’re really talented, Dee.”

He scoffs at you and waves his hand at you. His cheeks lightly flush and he looks away. His heart flutters in his chest at your praise. Most people don’t understand his work or just dismiss it altogether. It feels good to have someone show genuine interest.

“Anyone can do it.”  

“No, they can’t.” you protest, “This takes talent.”

You can’t believe that he’s brushing off your compliment like this. Doesn’t he realize how brilliant he is?

His eyes light up. “I’ll prove it to you.”

He quickly runs out of the room leaving you speechless and confused. He returns with an old t-shirt covered in paint splatters. He holds it out to you, and can only assume that it’s his, and your cheeks flush at the thought of wearing his clothes.

You take it from him and in an uncharacteristic fit of boldness, you pull your t-shirt over your head and put on the one he gave you. It’s big, nearly hanging down to your knees, hiding the curves he just got a peek at.

He almost choked as you changed your shirt. It was unexpected, and he shifted uncomfortably, feeling his cock harden in his pants. What he wouldn’t give to get a closer look at you that way again.

He clears his throat, trying to clear the dirty thoughts in his head. He didn’t want to mess this up, not when he’d finally gotten you comfortable enough to come to his apartment without prompting. Now was the time to play it cool, unfortunately playing it cool wasn’t something he was good at when it came to you.

“So, uh…wanna give it a shot?” He raises a brow at you, offering a challenge.

You wet your lips with the tip of your tongue. He sounded so hopeful, almost childlike. It made you wonder how many people had ever been given the privilege of seeing him like this, relaxed and happy. He was truly in his element here and you would treat this moment with the respect it deserves.

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” you answer softly.

You weren’t the artistic type. You’d never been good at drawing or painting. Maybe it was because you’d always worried so much that it wouldn’t be perfect, that someone would point out a mistake- no matter how small- and it would be ruined.

His face fell for a split second before that crooked smirk came back. He didn’t believe for a second that you couldn’t paint. You just needed to relax. He shoves a paintbrush into your hand.

“Just humor me,” he says quietly.

You sigh softly and turn to the canvas. Your eyes flutter closed. You can do this…all you have to do is try, right?

Selecting your first color, a deep blue, you touch the brush to the canvas. You use broad strokes, feeling a bit like Bob Ross as you gain confidence.

Dieter watches with amusement, seeing the tip of your pink tongue peek out past your plush lips and your brow furrowed in concentration. You look cute like this.

You hold the end of your paintbrush between your teeth as you contemplate your next move. The next paint color is chosen, and you begin to apply it with the same heavy strokes as before. You want this to look like the sunsets you used to see as a kid on summer vacations with your family.

He knows he shouldn’t interrupt. The last thing he wants to do is make you feel bad, but he can’t help himself. He steps up behind you, close enough to smell your strawberry shampoo.

“Can I give you a bit of advice?”

Your body jerks involuntarily at the sound of his voice. You were in the zone and forgot he was even here.

“Um, sure.”

Your teeth catch your bottom lip as he moves closer. The grip you have on the paintbrush makes your knuckles blanche. You let out a shaky breath, willing yourself to relax.

The urge to bury his nose into your hair and drink you in is so strong it almost hurts. God, what he wouldn’t give to be able to touch you for real, not that fake shit the two of you do for the cameras, genuinely touch you like he’s wanted to for so long.

“Relax your arm a bit,” he says softly. “Just let the brush glide along the canvas. You don’t have to force it.”

You inhale sharply as his large hand molds over yours and he glides the brush over the canvas. Having him this close is more unnerving than you’d like to admit. His warm breath tickles your ear as he guides your hand.

He lets go of your hand and you draw the brush across the canvas from left to right once again, trying to blend the colors the way he taught you. You're painfully aware that he didn’t move away from you, he’s still standing right behind you, his belly lightly brushing against your back.

“Perfect,” he says softly. “You’re a natural.”

You beam at his praise, smiling brightly as you turn your head to look at him.

“You really think so?”

“Yep.”

Something shifts between the two of you in that moment. He’s studying your face intently, almost as if he’s trying to memorize every little detail. You set the paintbrush down, unknowingly collecting some paint on your index finger.

All this feels like you're careening toward something you can’t take back. This is dangerous territory, and you know it will only lead to heartbreak.

You clear your throat and create a little space between you, giving you time to collect your thoughts.

“Stop teasing me.”

You laugh softly, trying to hide your feelings at him being so close to you.

“I swear I’m not teasing you, Cupcake. Painting isn’t about perfection…it’s about putting something out there that makes you feel something.”

You turn to face him, unsure of what to say. His words seem genuine and your heart flutters in your chest. How does he do this to you, time after time?

His fist clenches at his side. He wants to reach out to you, but he doesn’t want to push his luck. He doesn’t want to break the trust he’s worked so hard to build.  

His lips curl into a lopsided smirk and he collects a bit of paint on his index finger.

“You need to loosen up.”

He dots the end of your nose with the paint. A smirk is plastered across his face, awaiting your response.

Your eyes go wide as he pulls his hand away from your face. Mischief dances in your eyes as you contemplate how to exact payback.

Your brow raises as you collect some paint on your fingers. If he wants a paint war, he’s got one.

You wordlessly lift your fingers and slowly drag them down the side of his face. Your eyes challenge him, daring him to fight back.

He chuckles softly and grabs the paintbrush, dotting your cheeks. His eyes narrow playfully, waiting for you to strike back.

You reach for a brush of your own, soaking it in the paint. This is about to get messy, but you can’t even begin to care. You’ve never had so much fun making a mess in your life.

“Careful…” he warns. “I fight dirty.”

He grabs your wrist before you even have a chance to respond, and you drop the brush. His other hand assaults your side, and you dissolve into a fit of giggles.

The paintbrush smacks against him, smattering bright blue pigment across his shirt before landing on the floor. You try to wiggle away, but he’s surprisingly strong and he pulls you closer.

Your laughter fills the room as you tussle. He could listen to that sound forever and it makes his heart sing.

“Dee…” you squeal. “Dee….can’t breathe…..”

Your protest only makes him double down, he’s more than determined to make you laugh until you cry.

“If you can talk, you can breathe.”

The joy he’s feeling in this moment can’t be quantified. You’re the only one he’s ever done this with. Sure, he’s done some crazy things in the past, but he’s never been this silly with anyone before. This connection between you is unlike anything he’s ever experienced. It’s honest and real.

The tears begin to leak from your eyes as you wiggle in his grasp. You cackle and gasp for air, having the time of your life. You’ve never let your guard down like this before. It’s amazing.

His fingers slow as he realizes just how much your face is flushed. He’s accomplished his mission, and he reaches up to brush your hair away from your eyes.

Your giggles slowly subside, and you work to catch your breath. Your eyes slowly open to find him staring at you, almost mesmerized.

His hand slides down to your cheek and his face inches toward yours almost in slow motion.

He gently brushes his lips against yours. It’s a surprisingly intimate touch from him. When you don’t pull away, he presses his lips to yours more firmly, his tongue traces the seam of your lips begging for entrance.

Your lips part for him and he fully seizes the opportunity to take this further. His soft tongue dives into the cavern of your mouth exploring hungrily.

Your left hand shoots out, landing flat against the wet paint on the canvas and sliding down. You don’t even notice; you are so consumed with the feel of his mouth on yours.

Desire begins to cloud your mind as you return his kiss with equal fervor. The world has been reduced to this moment alone.

Your paint-covered hand comes to rest on his shirt as you moan softly into his mouth. His arms pull you impossibly close, there isn’t a single part of your body that isn’t touching.

He grunts softly, almost a whimper, as your body is pressed tightly against his. God, this feels so good, and he aches to take this further, to pull you down to the floor and fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.

His hand fumbles for the hem of your shirt. Fingers snaking under the fabric, searching for bare skin. The heat of his palm finds the lace of your bra, gently kneading the flesh underneath. Your nipples harden and your knees go weak as his thumb brushes over the sensitive bud.

The blaring sound of his ringtone snaps you both from your lust-filled haze, pulling you apart like teenagers being caught by your parents.

He clears his throat and steps further away from you to answer the call. It’s only then that the reality of what just happened hits you. You just came so close to crossing a line you couldn’t uncross. It’s only make believe, you tell yourself. That’s what you always say when your feelings become all too real and threaten to spill from your lips.

Your eyes dart to the canvas. You look at the firm handprint and the streaks your fingers left. Doubt begins to swirl within you. You need to get out of here before you say or do something you can’t take back.

“Everything okay, cupcake?”

Your head snaps around to see him standing there, shoulders slumped and eyes soft.

You bite your lip.

“I ruined your canvas,” you say softly.

What a dumb thing to say, but it was your first thought. It was inconsequential, it’s not like he was going to be upset about it, but it somehow felt like an omen.

“It’s not ruined,” he says quietly. “I can make something of that, don’t worry about it.”

His heart squeezes in his chest. He wants so badly to pull you back in, to pick up where you left off but the moment’s gone. He’s left with the reality that he’s not quite the man you need yet. You need someone a little more stable. He’s not quite there yet but he’s so close. It’s better to hold back these feelings until he’s sure that he can make this work between you.

You breathe deeply, trying to not let your feelings show. All you have to do is keep it together just a little longer.

“I…I should go.” You smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I have an early call at the studio tomorrow.”

He knows that’s probably true but that doesn’t stop his disappointment. He looks down at the floor and then back up to you.  He nods, knowing there’s nothing else to say.

“Thanks for the painting lesson, Dee.”

You quickly brush your lips against his scruffy cheek and walk out without looking back. You don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes.

The next few weeks are filled with an uneasy tension between you. You make a good show during your scheduled “appearances”, but when the cameras aren’t around you could cut the tension between you with a knife. Neither one of you has brought up the kiss. The two of you dance around the subject doing anything to avoid the elephant in the room.

The night of your movie premiere rolls around. Your makeup and hair team bustle around the hotel room while your stylist is busy selecting your accessories. Again, another dress you couldn’t afford even though you’ve made it. How were you going to pretend everything was okay with Dieter tonight? It was getting harder and harder to pretend that what the two of you were doing wasn’t real, that it was only make believe. You had genuine feelings for him, and you couldn’t deny it anymore.

Dieter appears in your doorway as your stylist finishes clasping the necklace you were going to wear. The dress is Valentino…the jewelry is Cartier…

This was the mantra that you had repeated to yourself over and over as you got ready. You had to remember those names, just in case you were asked about them. You couldn’t afford to forget who you were wearing in case you were asked, the last thing you want to do was offend the designers.

Your head jerks up as Dieter clears his throat, snapping you from your revelry. It never failed to amaze you how handsome he looked all cleaned up but somehow it made you long for the lounge pants, baggy T-shirt and crocs that made up his everyday attire.

“Ready to go, Cupcake?” he asked with a smirk. The same one that drove you crazy in both good and bad ways.

Dieter extends his hand to help you from the limo as you’re blinded by the flashbulbs of the press. You take a deep breath and plaster on your best smile, the same one that Dieter reminded you to use during your very first red carpet appearance. You can make it through this next ten minutes.

Dieter squeezes your hand, just like he did that first time. It grounds you and helps calm you. How was it that you were the only one who got to see this side of him?

Dieter steals glances at you as you pose for photos together before entering the theater. You are absolutely radiant, even though he can see the nervous energy shooting out of you. He’s wanted to tell you so many times how he felt but it just never seems to be the right time. He’s been putting in the work, trying to be the man you need, the man you deserve. Maybe tonight is the night. He feels like he’ll burst if he has to hold back much longer.

The movie goes by in a blur. You barely remember watching your scenes on the screen, all you can think about is the way Dieter’s hand feels in yours.

Dieter shifts in his seat as he gently rubs his thumb across the back of your hand. Things have been so tense between you these past few weeks. The kiss you shared has completely overtaken his mind. He wants you. He knows that on paper it seems crazy, but he is sure the two of you are meant to be. You quiet his mind in a way that no one else can. You see past all his bullshit to the broken man who just wants to be loved.

The after-party is hopping. It’s a cacophony of voices, laughter, and glasses clinking. This is the part of Hollywood you dislike most- being with a bunch of people who don’t give two shits about you but pretend they do. These people would sooner stab you in the back rather than help you out. Your head begins to ache, and you wander outside with your glass of champagne.

The sprawling estate is the perfect backdrop for the party. The landscaping is beautiful, with trees and lush gardens full of beautiful flowers. The thing that attracts your attention is the large fountain at the center of the courtyard. The design is delicately ornate with statues of water nymphs and mermaids. It’s large enough to walk right into. You find yourself mesmerized by the sound of the water as you lean over the balcony railing.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

You damn near drop your glass and your free hand flies to your chest. He’d snuck up on you without you even noticing.

“You scared the shit out of me, Dee.”

You playfully nudge him with your shoulder. His presence has a way of riling you up and calming you simultaneously.

His trademark smirk flashes across his face.

“You’re missing a hell of a party.”

You don’t miss the hint of sarcasm laced in his words. He’d told you before that he never really liked these parties.

“I know,” you answer softly. “Just needed some fresh air.”

Anyone else may have missed it, but he could feel how overwhelmed you were feeling. He couldn’t let you flounder, he needed to get you to relax. Grabbing your hand, he pulls you toward the courtyard.

He laces his fingers with yours as you silently walk through the garden. In the few months you’ve spent together, he’s learned when to push and when to stay silent.

You round the corner and come to a stop in front of the fountain. The whoosh of the water seems to drown out the rest of the world. You feel your shoulders go slack as the mist of the fountain tickles your bare forearms.

Unable to resist the opportunity, Dieter moves closer. His breath ghosts against your ear as he speaks.

“You look so beautiful when you're relaxed.”

You hum softly at his words.

“You’re the one who’s always telling me to loosen up.”

You set your glass down on a nearby bench and a wicked smile forms on your lips.

Without another word, you pull Dieter into the fountain. A little squeal leaves your throat as the cool water hits your skin. You dance in the water, splashing him and laughing like a little girl. You’ve never felt more free. There is something so liberating about splashing around in the water. You don’t even care that you might be ruining your designer dress.

Your heart soars as Dieter joins in, laughing and splashing you back. The fact that you’re going to attract attention to yourself is the last thing on your mind as he grabs you by the waist and spins you around.

He sets you down on your feet and pushes the damp locks off your forehead. You both just stare at each other, panting and drenched but unable to pull yourselves apart.

“When you let loose, you really go all out.”

He chuckles softly and pulls you even closer. He wants to tell you exactly how he feels about you, but the words stick in his throat. He’s not sure if any words would even suffice. Instead, he does the only thing he can think of to express himself.

He gently presses his lips to yours. His large hand grips your chin and tilts your head slightly, Your lips part for his tongue and you moan softly. This kiss is slow and tender, filled with the affection he longs to show you. He knows he can be the man you need if you’ll only give him a chance. No one knows him like you do. You’re the best thing that ever happened to him and he’s determined to make you happy.

Your world is tilted on its axis as he kisses you. This kiss was even better than the one you shared weeks ago. It was slow, unhurried. Your arms wrap around his waist, holding him close. A myriad of emotions flowed through you as your tongues danced like you had all the time in the world. Everything else faded away, all that existed was this moment and the two of you. The only sound you could hear was the thrumming of your heart in your ears.

The need for oxygen was the only thing that caused you to separate. You slowly open your eyes, your lips parted and swollen. Your eyes shimmer with the unspoken question that lies between you. What does this mean?

His lips curl into his trademark half smirk. His palms cup your face, thumbs brushing gently against the apples of your cheeks.

“What do you say we make this fake relationship real?”

His voice is so soft, barely audible over the rushing waters of the fountain. His eyes shine with hope. Hope that you will take this chance with him, hope that you give him the opportunity to show you how good he could be for you.

Your brows furrow as you stare back at him. Your head is still spinning a bit from that kiss. This is real, this is happening. The thing that you’ve wanted for weeks is finally staring you in the face and suddenly you’re afraid to reach out and grab it.

The slight breeze causes you to shiver slightly. You swallow the lump in your throat as the reality of the situation fully hits you.

“You sure about this?”

His words ring in your ears. You need him to confirm it one more time; to be sure this isn’t some fever dream.

“Surer than I’ve ever been.”

He rests his forehead against yours, willing you to read his thoughts.

“You’re the only one who can quiet my mind, Cupcake.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest. Those words feel so believable. You knew it was true. He was different with you than he was with anyone else. When it really mattered, you saw the real him just like he saw the real you. As unlikely a pair as you seemed on paper, the two of you just worked. You balanced each other out so well. You keep him from going off the deep end and he keeps you from getting too much in your own head.

A slow smile forms on your lips as you look at him. This was really happening.  Standing in the middle of a fountain at a party full of Hollywood stars, a new chapter of your lives was starting. 

“Let’s give it a try.”

Your words are cut off by commotion on the balcony. Someone has spotted the two of you and you knew you were moments from being the talk of the town.

Your laughter rings out over the din of the water. There’s something so freeing about not giving a fuck what anyone thought. That was all thanks to Dieter.

You quickly peck his lips one more time unable to contain your smile. No one back home would ever believe what just happened tonight.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Neither one of you can stop laughing as you drop into the back of your limo, still damp from your impromptu romp in the water.

“Thank you for the best night of my life,” you murmur as you rest your head on his shoulder.

He pulls you closer as your teeth lightly chatter, his hand rubbing up and down your arm.

“This is just the beginning, babe.”

He rests his chin on the top of your head. This was the scariest thing he’d ever done but he knew that he had to take this chance. He couldn’t imagine his life without you in it.

“Just the beginning…”

You quietly echo his words. This is going to be quite the adventure.

[wannab-urs]

Scandal

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Prompt: Forced Proximity + “You’re going to get us arrested” / “I always wanted to see you in handcuffs.”

Summary: You get locked in a closet with Dieter at the Oscars

Warnings: semi public smut; forced proximity; reader has hair that can have bobby pins in it, is able bodied, is wearing a dress, and is an actress; the barest hint of enemies to lovers, but not really. WC: 1.6k

A/N: Written for a Dieter Bravo Brainrot Server event. Thanks to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, @atinylittlepain, and @pr0ximamidnight for reading it for me <3

Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

You just need to take a breather, that’s all. The Oscars can be a lot for an actress with social anxiety – there’s a million directors, former costars, and producers all vying for a conversation with you, not to mention the cameras catching you from every angle. And to make matters worse, they’ve allowed paparazzi into the lobby this year. 

There’s a coat closet just down this hallway, if you can just remember which door it is. You walk down the ornate hallway and find a door cracked open just slightly, the smell of weed emanating from the gap. You push the door open and step in, closing it tightly behind you. And you should have known from the smell alone who you’d find on the other side. 

None other than Dieter Bravo. 

“Shouldn’t have closed the door.” 

“And you shouldn’t be smoking in here. You’re stinking up everyone’s coats.”

“No, you really shouldn’t have closed the door. We’re locked in now.” 

“What?” Your voice hits a high frequency. You do not want to be locked in a closet with this particular former costar. You try the door anyway and find that he’s telling the truth. 

“I told you.” 

“Fuck, Dieter. You could have warned me!”

He chooses not to respond, taking another hit of his joint instead. He holds his hand out in offering, but you shake your head. Being high and trapped sounds like a recipe for paranoid disaster. 

You slump to the floor, pouting, but grateful they gave you a dress you can actually move around in this year. Dieter sits cross legged across the closet from you. There are coats lining either side of the walls. 

His usually fluffy curls are slicked back and styled to perfection. His nasty green bathrobe and pajama pants have been replaced by a billowing white shirt and fitted black pants. He’s even wearing real shoes. He looks… good. And he’s surprisingly clear eyed for someone smoking an entire joint. 

“You look nice,” Dieter comments. You look down at your dress – the color was chosen specifically to contrast well with your skin tone. The cut shows just enough bust and highlights your body shape. It’s a good dress. 

“Thanks, Dee. I was just thinking the same about you.”

“Oh were you now?” 

You roll your eyes. “Not like that, Dieter. You just clean up nice, is all.”

“I’m not um…” he trails off. 

“Not on coke anymore? I can tell.”

You and Dieter had worked on a project together a couple years ago. It was in the height of his coke addiction and working with him had been an absolute nightmare. He’d show up for work absolutely out of his mind, having screaming matches with the director, the producers, you. And that was if he showed up at all. The project had never even made it to production, leaving you worried your career was ruined. You fucking hated Dieter Bravo. 

But you could never deny how adorable he is. 

“Yeah. Cleaned up. Went to rehab. The whole shebang.”

“That’s good, Dee. Really.” 

You let your head fall back against the door, exposing the line of your throat to possibly the world's horniest man.

“You look really good in that dress.”

“I’m not going to have sex with you.”

You peek an eye open and see Dieter is already halfway across the floor, crawling to you on his hands and knees. He’s pouting at you. 

“What else do we have to do right now?”

You sigh and try the door one more time for good measure, reaching up behind you and tugging on the door handle. Still locked tight. Dieter grins and crawls even closer, settling between your thighs. He reaches out and strokes his thumb across your cheek. You can’t help but lean into it. 

“Always thought you were so beautiful.”

“Sure, Dee,” you scoff 

“I did. I do. Can I kiss you?” 

“Sure, Dee,” you whisper breathlessly. 

He presses his lips to yours gently at first. His lips are soft and plush against yours and you can’t help but deepen the kiss. You open your mouth and his tongue meets yours, hot and wet. Arousal sweeps through you and you bury your hands in his gorgeous curls, holding him against you. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap. You gasp, causing the kiss to break as your core comes into contact with the hard line of his cock in his trousers. 

“So fucking beautiful,” Dieter mutters into your throat, pressing kisses down into your cleavage. 

He lays you flat on the floor and scoots back, settling on his belly in between your thighs and rucking your dress up to your hips. 

“Dieter, you’re going to get us arrested for public indecency.”

“First of all, I’ve always wanted to see you in handcuffs,” he presses a kiss to your left thigh. “And secondly, I don’t see anyone here to catch us,” he kisses your right thigh, higher up this time. 

He hooks his thumb in the gusset of your panties, stroking your already soaked folds. You moan as quietly as you can. 

“So wet for me, already.” 

You groan as he pulls your panties to the side and buries his face in your cunt. There’s no build up, he eats you like he’s ravenous, like he hasn’t eaten in days. His curved nose grinds into your clit as he laps at your hole. His tongue plunges inside you over and over and you can already feel your core tightening. He slips two fingers in to replace his tongue, drawing circles on your clit with the point of it now. You cry out, much louder than you mean to be, than you need to be. His left hand comes up to cover your mouth, his face now hovering above yours as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. 

“Quiet now, love. Wouldn’t want to get arrested for public indecency.”

The bastard. He thrusts his fingers into you a few more times and you’re coming all over his hand. You bite down on his palm to keep from screaming. He draws his fingers out of you slowly and rights your panties for you. He sucks your come off his fingers like it’s cake batter, letting out a little moan of his own at the taste. 

The door handle jiggles and you both freeze. Just as the lock turns, Dieter grabs you and rolls you both under the lowest level of coats on the side of the closet. You’re on top of him, breathing heavily into his neck. Someone comes in, grabs their coat, and leaves the room, pulling the door closed behind them. 

Dieter goes to roll you both back out but you stop him. You press a kiss to his very exposed throat. 

“I love this shirt. Very Mr. Darcy.”

“It is romantic isn’t it?” 

You drag your lips down his throat to his chest, pressing a kiss to the lowest bit of exposed skin. Your hands find the clasp on his fancy black pants, but you can’t quite get them open.

“The one time you don’t wear easy access pants…” 

“Here, let me.”

You both fumble for a moment before the clasp finally comes open and his cock springs out. 

“No underwear?”

“The lines were showing too bad.”

“Mmhmm,” you quirk an eyebrow at him. 

You wrap his cock in your hand. It’s long, curved a little, and not terribly thick. 

“Pretty,” you mutter before taking the tip in your mouth. He gasps as you suck him down. You swirl your tongue around his head, then flatten it out and let him fill your mouth. He hits the back of your throat and you suppress a cough, pushing him further down. His hands flutter into your hair as you start bobbing your head, sucking him down over and over again. He doesn’t push or pull you, simply rests his hands on the back of your head. 

You pull off him and lick a stripe up the seam of his balls as you stroke his cock. You suck one into your mouth, rolling it gently on your tongue, then switch to the other. 

“I’m gonna–”

You take his cock down your throat again, wanting to swallow his cum. You suck hard on the tip and then drop your lips down to the base as he comes in your mouth. His hips stutter beneath you and he groans. 

You let his softening cock fall out of your mouth and press a kiss to his hip bone. He strokes the back of your head reverently. 

“We should get cleaned up,” you whisper, your voice rough. 

Dieter sighs, but helps you get back to your feet. You take in his rumpled appearance and know you can’t look much better. His chest is covered in lipstick, as is his face. His hair is an absolute mess. His outfit is askew and wrinkled to hell. 

You help him fix his outfit, rub the lipstick off his skin, and finger comb his hair back into some semblance of a style. He pulls bobby pins out of your hair and stows them in his pockets, letting your hair down from the hours of work the stylist did. He smooths out your dress as best as he can. 

“We look…”

“Like we just fucked on the floor of a closet?”

“Yeah.”

He takes a bobby pin from his pocket and picks the lock on the door. 

“You could have done that the whole time?” 

Dieter doesn’t answer. He stands and takes your hand in his and pulls the door open. You’re immediately inundated with camera flashes. The paparazzi have found you. Your agent is going to kill you. 

“I fucking hate you,” you halfheartedly fuss at Dieter. This scandal will be fun to deal with... 

[bitchesuntitled]

Some Broken Hearts Never Mend

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!actress reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of drugs, pregnancy, lovers to enemies, angst angst angst

A/N: Huge thank you to @noxturnalpascal and @beefrobeefcal for helping me with this! ❤️ I don’t usually do angst but trying to play around with it and I needed the practice. This is for @tightjeansjavi's June Writing Challenge. Also tagging @jay-zzle because she is my permanent cheerleader

Masterlist||AO3

divider by: @saradika-graphics

The lights are flashing everywhere, hearing your name and Dieter’s being shouted left and right. Where to look, what to do, you love sharing this moment with him, watching his smile beam as the congratulations are being shouted out.

“I can’t believe this is real,” Dieter whispers in your ear with a smile, rubbing the bump of your belly.

Paparazzi is shouting out excitedly, seeing you two together along with your prominent bump on display. You both kept this news under wraps until you couldn’t hide it anymore. It’s too hot in the summer to try wearing the oversized hoodies you’d been wearing all spring. It was decided between both of your teams that the best thing for an announcement was to show up to Dieter’s premier with a dress that would show off your bump, letting the world know that Dieter Bravo was about to take on the most important role of his life - a family man.

“Dieter! Dieter over here!” You see Adam from Entertainment Tonight waving you both down.

You nudge Dieter, motioning towards the host, and make your way over for the first interview of the night.

“Hey guys! I’m just so excited to see you two! Wow,” Adam says your name, “You look absolutely glowing. Is there maybe a reason why?” he teases.

“Well, I don’t know,” you laugh, shrugging your shoulders, “Babe?”

“Hmm…” Dieter says, rubbing your bump, “I think because you’re having my baby?”

“I can’t believe it! First, you get this man sober, and now,” Adam says with an amusing smirk, “You’ve gotten him to have a baby with you?”

“She’s a witch!” Dieter exclaims with a massive grin, “I swear. She put me under some sort of spell!”

The interview went on for a little longer, delving into Dieter’s role and how he prepared for the movie. Interview after interview, the baby was brought up.

What are you hoping for? Boy or girl? Healthy.

Have you thought of any names? Yes, but not sure yet.

Do you know what the sex is? We want it to be a surprise.

The same questions were asked repeatedly until it was time to go inside the theater.

—

“Hey babe, I’m gonna be going out, hanging with some friends,” Dieter says, waltzing into the living room with his phone and keys. You pause the TV, scooting to the edge of the couch. “You don’t need to get up.”

“What friends?” You ask concern etched on your face. It always makes you nervous when he is going to hang out with friends solo. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Dieter, it was just that he’s had his fair share of relapses.

“Sam, Claudia, and Percy.”

You make a disgusted face as soon as Percy’s name is mentioned. Sam and Claudia, you trust. Percy, you do not.

“Babe,” Dieter starts, “I know you don’t like the guy but he just got out of rehab. No drugs will be around, everything will be just fine!”

“He just got out of rehab that was court-mandated, Dieter,” you seeth, “You really think he took that shit seriously?!”

“Baby,” Dieter sighs, placing a hand on your stomach, “You gotta watch your blood pressure. Not good for Peanut.”

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

This has become your mantra lately, the doctor was getting worried about your blood pressure and stress levels. He had said that it could cause early labor. Six months along, and you needed to start paying more attention to this stuff. The last thing you want is for Peanut to come before they’re ready.

“I just don’t trust him,” you explain, “The last time you hung out with him you relapsed and went down a rabbit hole.”

“I know,” he said, head dropping, “I’m sorry. I really am, but I promise it won’t happen again. There’s not supposed to be any hard drugs, maybe some weed but that’s it.”

“Fine,” you groan, “I mean it though Dieter, you can’t have any more slip ups. Gotta think about Peanut.”

“I’m always thinking about you and Peanut,” Dieter grins, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. “I’ll behave and be home before ten.”

Dieter wasn’t home before ten, or eleven, or twelve. It was nearing two in the morning when you finally heard the front door open. Sliding your feet into your slippers and grabbing his tattered green robe to wrap yourself in, you made your way to the living room.

“Fuck,” you hear Dieter say sniffling, “What the fuck did I do?”

“Babe?” You ask, coming into the living room, Dieter slumped on the couch, “Everything okay?”

“I fucked up,” he whispers, pushing his hands against his eyes, “I promised yo-,” he chokes on a sob, “I promised you I wouldn’t and I fucked up.”

“Dieter,” you sigh, approaching the couch to sit next to him, “Look at me.”

He shakes his head, looking down at his lap, fingers twitching against his face. He looks so helpless like this. You grab his hands, and pull them into your lap.

“Babe,” you try again, “Look at me,” reaching your hand to cup his cheek, forcing him to look at you. Watery bloodshot eyes stare back at you.

“I’m so sorry,” Dieter whispers, closing his eyes, a lone tear running down his cheek, “I should’ve listened to you.”

He tells you what happened. You nod in understanding, this was just a slip-up, you can forgive him yet again. You know it was just a bad judgment call to go out tonight. He will get through this just like he has every other time.

—

“Looks like you’re doing well, baby is right on track and appears to be growing as they should,” the doctor says, looking at your chart, “Only about two more months to go and then we can start looking to induce you. I want to see you in two weeks.”

You give a small smile and nod, rubbing your bump, slinging your purse over your shoulder, willing the phone inside to buzz as you make your way to the receptionist’s desk, making small talk with her and getting your next appointment set. You thank her as you take the appointment card, sliding it into your purse as you walk out the door.

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

Dieter’s been missing, three weeks to the day now, and no one can find him. His management team and assistant have been on a hunt trying to find him but of course, Dieter has gone off the grid. Last you knew paparazzi had gotten pictures of him somewhere in Europe, but that was last week. His PR team and your own told you not to look at the pictures but you couldn’t not see them when a pregnancy craving hit and you got ice cream late one night.

Dieter Bravo, Trouble in Paradise?

Sources close to the actor state he’s not ready to be a father and ran from his relationship to [redacted], fellow actress who is pregnant with Bravo’s first child.

The small article included pictures of Dieter exiting a club with one arm around a blonde woman’s shoulders and the other arm around a brunette man’s waist. The three of them were walking down the sidewalk. The final pictures in the article showed Dieter kissing both of them.

Stars has tried to reach out to each of the couple’s publicists for comment with no response at this time.

You felt your heart breaking in the middle of the checkout line. He was the one to bring up having a baby. He was the one to convince you to get pregnant. He was the one who time and time again reassured you this is what he wanted and only wanted it with you. 

You felt so stupid, like a poor pathetic girl, when everyone had warned you about him. They’d all told you so many times. Dieter Bravo is a mess. Dieter Bravo can’t be tamed. Dieter Bravo isn’t  meant for relationships. As it turns out, they were all right, and you’d just ignored every warning given to you.. Dieter had kept using after the last slip-up. What was an accident became once a week, then three times a week, and then turned to daily use. Slowly but surely you were giving up, giving up on the one person who you trusted the most.

He made you feel loved, cherished, and special. He always made you feel like no one else could compare to you or your love for each other. Now though, he makes you feel like a fool. He makes you feel like the dirt underneath his shoes. He makes you feel like… like, like—

Your thoughts are interrupted by the buzzing in your purse. The number wasn’t one you recognize but you answered anyway in hopes it was Dieter.

“Hello?”

“Baby,” Dieter’s voice sounds through the phone, “I wanna come home.”

“Dieter?” you ask, “Where are you?”

“I’m at an airport in Paris,” he says sniffling, “I wanna come home.”

“Come home, please,” you beg, “Just come home.”

—

Dieter came home the following day, detox in full swing. He was shaky, sweaty, and puking, and you were staying by his side the entire time. Doubt begins to crawl into your brain, this being the fourth or fifth time you’ve helped him through detox. Is this going to be how your life plays out? Private doctors, in and out of your home like a revolving door. Make sure he’s comfortable, providing you with the necessary instructions to get Dieter through this so he doesn’t have to go to a facility again.

“I think he should consider going to rehab again,” Mark, his manager, says.

“Mark, I don’t know what else to do,” you sigh, shaking your head back and forth. “He doesn’t want to go. He told me every single hiding spot he has here at home and I went through all of them and flushed everything.”

“Just think about it, think about your baby and your own health,” Mark says firmly, “I’ve worked for Dieter for many years and this isn’t going to be the last time this happens.”

“I know,” you whisper, tears threatening to spill over, accepting defeat. You hadn’t meant to fall in this deep with Dieter if you’re being honest with yourself. It was supposed to just be a summer fling but as time went on he squirmed his way deeper and deeper into your heart, making room for himself to curl up inside, and making himself a nice little home there. It was becoming too much to handle, the stress weighing you down more as the days passed by.

If anything was going to prepare you for a newborn it might as well be this. Dieter shouts for you from the guest room in the middle of the night, waddling through the doorway you see him sprawled out on the bed. A thin sheen of sweat covers his chest, turning on the bedside lamp he winces.

“Baby,” Dieter groans, reaching out for you, sitting on the bed you give him your hand, “I love you. I love you more than anything in this world.”

“I know, D,” you murmur, the tears already threatening your waterline as he grasps your hand like it’s his only lifeline, “I know.”

“Hey,” he says perking up some, “Once I’m through with this we should go on vacation somewhere!”

“D we can’t,” you sniffle, rubbing the hand he isn’t holding onto against your nose.

“Why not?”

“Peanut,” you say, giving him a small smile.

“We’ll just take Peanut with us,” he smiles, moving one of his hands to rest on your stomach.

“That’s not really how it works, D,” you groan, “We can’t just up and leave whenever we want to. Not with Peanut.”

“Fine,” Dieter says firmly nodding, jaw going rigid, “Guess it doesn’t matter what I want to do then.”

“No,” you whisper, “It doesn’t.”

For the first time in your entire relationship, Dieter looks angry. He lets go of your hand and rolls over, his back facing you.

“Dieter,” you say softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Would you consider going back to rehab?”

Dieter doesn’t respond. When you repeat yourself he just grunts and shoves your hand off his shoulder.

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

The next morning when you wake, he’s gone again. A note with his chicken scratch left on his bedside table.

You’re right. Checking into White Oak again. Things will get better. I promise ❤️

Love, D

—

It took four days. Four days for Dieter to check himself out of rehab and go missing again.

“I can’t fucking do this anymore!” You wail into the phone, leaving yet another voicemail on Dieter’s brand new phone, “Dieter, I need you to come home. Please. If not for me then for Peanut.”

“Fuck!” You shout, throwing your phone across the room, and beginning to pace back and forth. There is nothing you can do besides wait. Wait and hope that Dieter’s not lying in a ditch somewhere. You can feel your heart breaking into a million pieces.

You reach down, trying with all your might to grab your phone and then you feel it. A sharp pain in your groin and liquid rushing down your legs.

“Ahh!” You groan out, the pain sending you to your knees, reaching for your phone and dialing 911, waiting to be put through to a dispatcher, “No, no, no. This can’t be happening. It’s not time yet, it’s not time,” you clutch your stomach, telling the dispatcher you need an ambulance and your address.

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

While you lay on the floor waiting for an ambulance to arrive the only thing you can think of is Dieter and how he should be here. You pick up your phone one more time and try calling him again.

“Hey, it’s Bravo, can’t come to the phone right now but you know what to do after the beep.” Beep.

“Dieter, I’m going into labor. An ambulance is on the way. I need you, please,” you continue through tears, “I’m so scared and I need you. Please come back. Please.”

—

It’s almost been a month since you’ve been home from the hospital. Dieter still hasn’t shown back up, has yet to meet his beautiful baby in person. You started seeing a therapist to help you process everything you’ve been through with Dieter. Looking over at Peanut sleeping peacefully in the bassinet beside your bed, you can’t help thinking about how it’s so unfair to this little baby to have a father who would choose drugs over them, but there’s nothing you can do besides be the best parent you can for Peanut. 

It startles you to hear a crashing sound coming from the kitchen. Slowly making your way out of bed to grab the baseball bat from the closet, you glance over at Peanut one more time before leaving the bedroom to see who dared disturb your peace.

“God damn it,” you hear Dieter groan, “I could’ve sworn I had some in here.”

You try to calm your heart rate, peering around the doorway to see Dieter rummaging through a kitchen drawer. He’s finally shown up. Not for you, not for his baby, but only to try and find drugs. He’s literally only here for the damn drugs. Your therapist had warned you about this moment.

Inhale. 1 2 3 4. Hold it. Slowly exhale. 5 6 7.

“Where the fuck is it?!” Dieter hisses, still not noticing you in the doorway, flipping on the lights.

“Gone,” you state firmly, setting the bat against the wall, and crossing your arms, “I flushed everything.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Dieter shrieks, facing you in the doorway but barely focusing on you. “You had no right to do that!”

“I did it because you asked me to when you were detoxing the last time.”

“I never said anything like that,” he seethes, stalking towards you, pointing a finger in your face, “I would never ask you to flush my shit.”

“Dieter, where have you been?” you ask, noting his blown-out pupils, and the wild look in his eyes. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Needed some space,” Dieter scoffs shrugging, “It’s not that big of a fucking deal.”

“Peanut.”

“The fuck?” Dieter asks, looking at you with malice in his eyes.

“Peanut,” you grit through your teeth, pointing down the hall, “You fucking promised me, Dieter. You promised.”

“Oh get off your high horse,” Dieter yells, “Don’t hold that against me when you baby trapped my ass!”

“I- what?” you say through gritted teeth, “You wanted this just as much as I did! It takes two to make a baby!”

“Fuck that!” Dieter laughs maniacally, “I never wanted to be a fucking dad!”

“D, you don’t mean that,” you say, shaking your head, tears brimming your eyes, “That’s the coke talking. You haven’t even seen Peanut, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I’m Dieter-fucking-Bravo, baby!” He shouts, throwing his arms up into the air, “I’m not gonna be held down by some relationship and a baby at home!”

“Fuck you,” you point to the door, face serious. “Get out of this house.”

“My fucking pleasure!” Dieter roars, walking out of the kitchen and slamming the front door.

—

Five years later.

Dieter was flipping through the channels, trying to find something interesting to watch on tv. His high was still lingering, not quite sober but not quite as high as that first hit. The ET channel starts blaring your name, with a picture of you, Peanut, and some guy.

“Looks like there’s an engagement in town,” the host says with a smile, “Looks like she’s got herself a type, but who is this mystery man? It’s rumored they met when he was doing some remodeling work on her house two years ago.”

“That girl’s been through enough!” The other host announces, “Bout time she gets her happy-ever-after!”

Wait, what? No, you’re his. His love, his fairy-tale ending, his forever. Dieter’s world is twisting sideways, Peanut is the spitting image of him. His baby, his baby he has never even met.

“No, no, no,” Dieter groans, picking up his phone to try and call you, the phone goes straight to voicemail. He tries calling your publicist next, again straight to voicemail. Next, he tries your manager, with the same results, over and over again until giving up and calling the one person he can trust.

“Mark,” Dieter cries into the receiver, “Please tell me it’s not true.”

“Dieter,” Mark grunts, “It’s three in the morning, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Is she really getting married?”

“Dieter,” Mark let out an exasperated sigh.

“I need to go back to rehab,” Dieter announces, “If I get clean and do all the steps she’ll have to take me back right?”

“Dieter,” Mark says firmly, “That’s not how it works. Let her go. She’s had to change her number fifteen different times now because you somehow keep getting it. Her entire team has your number blocked.”

“She’s the love of my life, Mark,” he whines, “I can’t just let her go. Starting tomorrow, I’m sober.”

Dieter begins cutting ties with most of his friends or really it was more cutting the people off who encouraged him to use. He went through the detox, he went through the steps as best as he could. He wants to impress you, he wants to get you back, get his kid back, fuck this guy who swooped in while he was away.

---

He’s six months sober. He hadn’t been sober for this long since before Peanut was born. Dieter found out from a friend of a friend’s friend where exactly you were living for the right price, Hollywood would never change. He makes the drive to your house, flowers in the passenger seat for you, and a teddy bear for Peanut. He’s ready to grovel at your feet if that’s what it will take. Pulling up to the curb he sees a nice suburban home. It’s nothing like what you two had shared, no ornate bushes out in the front yard, no massive gate surrounding the house keeping you caged in, kids freely playing in the neighboring yards. The front door opens and he feels like he’s been sucker punched. You’re standing there, staring daggers at him. He watches you leave the doorway, and as you walk towards his car he can’t help but think you look just as beautiful as the first day he met you.

He opens the car door, grabs the flowers and teddy bear, and gets out.

“Stop right there,” you state firmly, shoulders back and head held high, “What the fuck are you doing here Dieter?”

“I’m sober,” he says, “I thought- I thought maybe I could come and try to talk to y-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You laugh, but not the soft laugh that fills him with so much light like Dieter remembers, this laugh doesn’t bring him comfort, it only brings him a sense of loss.

“I haven’t used in six months now, I’m trying to change, I really am,” he sighs, “I know I fucked up, I know I’ve been gone but I can’t think of you marrying someone else. I can’t”

“You’ve been gone?” You ask, shaking your head, “You were more than gone, it’s been five years. What did you think was going to happen Dieter? That I would still be in that house, taking care of our baby all on my own just waiting on you to come to your senses? Don’t act like you were just gone on a business trip, it’s been five damn years!”

“No, that’s-” he starts, swallowing the lump in his throat, “That’s now how I meant it.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I haven’t been good in a long time. The last time things were good was when I was with you.”

“And?” you ask, gritting your teeth together, “What does that have to do with anything? You left Dieter. You left me. Alone, pregnant, I almost lost Peanut because of you.”

He hates this, he never thought he’d see a side of you like this. Angry, mean, spiteful. You were always forgiving, tender, and always cared about his feelings. What happened?

“What happened to you?” Dieter asks, shaking his head, “When we were together you were never like this. You’re being so hateful.”

“What happened to me?” You shout, “Dieter, you! You happened to me!”

“Babe,” Dieter looks past you to the man at the door, “Everythin’ a’right?”

“Yeah, Joel,” you say giving the man a warm smile, the smile that was once for Dieter, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Daddy look at this!” Dieter hears a kid shout, and the man named Joel responds to the kid’s voice with a “Comin’ kiddo!”

“Is that-” Dieter swallows, feeling his mouth go dry, “Was that Peanut?”

“Yes,” you reply coldly.

“That’s not Peanut’s dad. I’m Peanut’s dad!”

“You lost the chance to be Peanut’s dad when you never showed up for the birth,” you say stepping closer to him, “You lost the chance to be Peanut’s dad when you decided to break into our home to look for drugs when they were a month old,” pushing against his chest, flowers and teddy bear falling to the ground, “You lost the chance to be Peanut’s dad when you fucked off for the past five years. Don’t you ever call yourself Peanut’s dad, got it?”

“Biologically I am Peanut’s dad,” Dieter protests.

“You may be the sperm donor but that makes you just about as much of a parent as a toilet seat does,” you spit out, turning and storming off.

Dieter watches you walk away back to your home, his heart heavy with regret. You were the last reason he had to get sober and get healthy and you didn’t want him. He ruined it. 

He turns around placing his hands on top of his car, closing his eyes as his head fills with dark and sad thoughts when he hears a small voice say, “Momma, why was the man you have a picture of in your bedside table here? And why’s he look so sad?”

Dieter’s head perks up and a hopeful grin spreads across his face.

[eupheme]

— cabin down below

dieter bravo x actress!f!reader

rated e - 1.8k

tags: cabining, co-stars-with-benefits, mentions of alcohol, references to sex and horror films, implied paparazzi trying to catch them together, oral sex

ahh nervous to post this (first time writing for him!) but excited about this gorgeous moodboard I recieved for Summer Lovin’ 24! 🏕️💖 thanks so much for hosting @pedgito, @amanitacowboy, and @chaotic-mystery!

Dieter really can talk you into anything.

The official table read is on Monday, scenes due to start shooting soon after. You really shouldn’t be thirty miles out of town right now - leaving the comforts of your apartment and the air conditioning of the limo, to hike another mile into the forest.

But you’ll trade the luxury for a chance to spend time with him. An old spot, he said. His dad’s cousin’s place, bought it off him when they needed the money. Been in the family for years.

“You gotta immerse yourself,” Dieter had told you, his arms spreading wide, “What better place to practice lines than here?”

It’s your first time in a movie with him. You’re not sure if he’s really a method actor. Equally not sure that it’s needed for a movie called Campground Carnage II - or if the city just seemed a little too loud, a little too busy.

Deep down, you hope it might just be an excuse to get you alone.

You'd be pretty alright with that.

It’s been hard to sneak around Los Angeles. There’s cameras everywhere. An obsession with one Dieter Bravo - the current hottest, most eccentric star.

You’d met before his last big break. Reading lines for Covert Affairs, but they had passed over the mutual chemistry for an actress with a little more weight to her name.

He had gotten the part, and you had gotten his number. Two desperate hookups when you both ended up in Vegas at the same time.

Only to come back together a year later.

“Long Island,” He had smiled, when he saw you, “Good to see you again.”

You had been surprised he remembered you, much less the drink he had bought. Enough alcohol in both your systems that you would’ve forgiven him if he had.

Not that you would have, though. Not with that mouth of his.

Something that you’re thinking about now, as the trees clear. The cabin tucked between them - a peeking sliver of a river cutting through the terrain behind it.

A cozy little thing, not much bigger than the apartment you’re missing. Built with thick wooden logs, two tidy windows out front, the checkered curtain pulled shut.

The key ring twirls on his finger, as Dieter moves ahead to unlock the door.

You can’t help appreciating the view, as he does. This ‘camping’ look suits him. It’s almost enough to make you a little jealous of his ability to look good in anything and everything he throws on.

A tight black tee, the hat that’s pulled down over his messy curls. Featuring an embroidered trout, with “fish want me, women fear me” scripted above and below that he found at a garage sale. Patterned crocs with matching shorts that only reach mid-thigh.

And you're at least 45-percent sure the fanny pack around his waist is filled with condoms and KitKats.

It’s been hard to keep your mind off him, on the drive over. Battering his wandering hands away, with the driver only a few feet from you. Still shy, both enthralled and not used to his open affection.

Trying to concentrate on the script. Preparing to run lines, just in case his suggestion for this weekend wasn’t some kind of euphemism.

But you kept going back to a particular scene. The two counselors - that’s you and him - sneaking off to one of the cabins in the campground.

A steamy encounter involving both the top and bottom of a bunk bed, and a lot of Bravo on his knees. Anything to showcase his physique, you’re already picturing how they’ll stage it with the female gaze in mind.

Bare back, you’re guessing. A hint of ass, but still tasteful.

The scene a fake-out - featuring a jump scare, with the shadow of a person passing by the windows behind you. Tapping into that classic trope - first to fuck, first to die.

Which might be true - if it was his first movie.

He doesn’t actually make it to the end, though. Dieter’s demise coming from a staged accident in the fishing lake, just as the movie lulls into a sense of safely. One final blow before the big reveal.

You know people will be pissed about that. As a fan of the series, even you are a little.

But the thought of having a scene with him - there is a flicker of excitement, that dulled heat in your belly - even though you know that logically, it will all be purely professional.

It’s still fun to imagine.

The door cracks open, but there’s something else with the sound. You frown, your head whipping towards the woods behind you. Searching for the source of the noise, one that sounded a little too familiar.

“Did I just hear a camera click?”

“Nah,” Dieter shrugs, “There’s no way they know about this place.”

"Yeah,” You hum, giving another glance. There’s nothing but the rustle of trees, the rush of the water. A self-conscious laugh, as you head inside, “Maybe I’m immersing myself too much.”

“No hauntings or serial killers here, sweetheart.” He smiles, “But if you’re scared I have a few ideas to get your mind off things…”

The door clicks shut behind him.

Your eyebrow arches, “Oh yeah? Like what?”

Dieter pretends to think, as he advances on you. Hands reaching out to trace up your sides, pulling you flush against him.

“Can think of a scene I’d like to start with,” He husks, eyes darkening, “There’s no bunk bed here, but I think we can make do.

Hunger flares in you, now that you're alone. Your eyes dip to the curl of his mouth, no more than a breath before you’re pressing your lips to his. A rough moan as his hands slide up your back, his tongue already brushing across your lower lip.

Tasting sweet when they part for him, your own moan swallowed as you lose your grip on your bag, letting it tumble to the floor.

It’s always so easy to get lost in him. If you’re not careful, you might just get swept away.

“You don’t want to see what the directors have in mind?” You tease, when you pull back for a breath, “Hold off on that scene until later?”

“No can do.” Dieter groans, as he pulls you back to him, “Not with you looking like this.”

You can’t help the smile, as you start the stumbling journey through the main room, wandering hands and the press of mouths.

His hand grasping your ass as your fingers slip under his shirt - the other reaching for the door he has you backed up against. A creaking swing, as it opens.

Dieter’s hands are at your hips, as soon as the back of your knees hit the bed.

“Let me taste you, baby.” It’s mumbled against your lips. His fingers dipping beneath your waistband. A nail tracing the edge of your underwear, raising goosebumps, “Been thinking about it all day.”

You remember this from before. How focused he gets. Willing to beg, shameless, if there’s something he wants.

And you’re always willing to give.

The bed is soft - covered in worn buffalo-checkered sheets - as you let yourself be lowered onto it. His hands catch your ankles, tugging you down until your legs drape off the edge.

Spread wide, so he can fit between them as he kneels. Batting your hand away as you go to push down your shorts.

“I wanna do it.” He hums. His own shorts already pulled tight, a hand coming to palm himself in anticipation.

Your hips lift for him. Nails bite into skin, grasping fabric and pulling down both layers. Easing them around the bulk of your gym shoes so his palms can press into your thighs, spreading them even wider.

A rough noise, when he sees you.

“You been thinking about this too, babe?” He coos, a thumb pressing against your slit. Rolling against the wet gleam of your center, as it betrays your desire.

You huff, the muscles in your legs flexing. Breath held as your eyes flit up to his, waiting. Watching, as he sucks your slick from his skin with a groan.

“Bet you were. Saw you eye-fucking me in the limo, all while telling me to keep my hands to myself.”

"I-I," You try to answer. To protest - to say you weren't - but his palms are smoothing up your skins. Distracting, as he slowly moves.

Those eyes focused on yours as his head tips. An open-mouthed kiss to your knee, then thigh. Moving up, as your heart races.

Inner thigh, now.

"Dee," There's a buck of your hips, with your whine, “Don’t tease.”

It’s futile, you’re certain. Unable to take what you dish out. But perhaps he’s been pushed too far as well.

“Tell me you need it.” His pupils are blown-wide, drunken already.

It’s easy to answer.

“Please. I need you.”

The next kiss is right against your slit. Messy, as his mouth covers you. Your fingers twisting in the blanket, as your knees press against his shoulders.

He’s too good. Teasing with the wet brush of his tongue. The slow creep of his fingers, the tip of one pressing against your entrance - only to withdraw just as you clench down.

Again, and then again. Slowly sinking into you, one knuckle at a time. Working you open, until you’re stretched wide around three of them - too full to form words.

“Don’t need direction for this,” His eyes flip to yours, a dimpled smile as his fingers sink deep and then curl, “Do I, baby?”

He does it again, as your answer pitches high. Your hips bucking into his touch as his tongue licks at you again. Timing it so that the point of his tongue teases your clit, each time his fingers rub against the spongey spot inside you.

He’s going to make you come. You’re too wound up, too needy for him.

“Fuck, Dieter.” You keen - your leg hooking over his shoulder, “Oh fuck, keep doing that-“

“That’s it baby,” He grins, “Improvise for me.”

It makes you laugh, which has him groaning as you tighten around his fingers. His left hand dropping to push down the waistband of his shorts. Fingers pulling from you only long enough to smear your arousal on his cock, to pump his fist until he’s covered.

It’s then that you think you hear it again. Just as his tongue slips inside you. Another mechanical sound from outside, just barely audible through the wooden walls.

“Dee,” You moan, fingers twisting in his hair. Either to pull him closer or push him away, you’re not sure, “I d-definitely heard-”

“Can’t see in here.” It’s mumbled out, gasped between your thighs.

He’s seen to that, at least. The blinds thick, the bedroom tucked away.

A grin, as his tongue flattens - licking from hole to clit, “Wasn’t planning on leaving, anyways.”

You trust him, knowing he wouldn't leave you vulnerable. The sound in your throat is muffled as your teeth clench, “But they-, what if they hear us?”

It’s only now that his head lifts, those dark eyes blown wide. Paired with a lazy smile, his lips shining as they stretch wide.

A soft croon.

“Then I guess you’d better be quiet.”

Your laugh turns into a soft groan, at the flick of his tongue. Self-conscious perhaps, but not wholly and entirely deterred by the thought of an audience.

Not when you’re with him.

“Keep that up,” You manage - as something molten floods through your belly, “And you might have to help a girl out.”

His weight presses into you as he moves up - heated, bare skin as he settles between your thighs. Dieter’s nose skimming your throat, as his hand slips between your thighs.

Just before his mouth presses to yours, swallowing you moan.

“That, baby… I can do.”

just wanted to try something fun 🏕️ thank you so much for reading! and thanks again for this awesome event!

[alwaysmicado]

Hi Love!!, love your works! Do you have your request open? Or if you just open to my insecurity talk🫣😅, well i’m curious about your take on reader’s insecurity on their boobs *shocking* by their real life’s average size theirs are bigger (that’s the first insecurity) and by the online’s appearance (like how social media and corn looked to them) theirs are just not the type that is appealing (in their opinion) well if it’s too much i’m sorry and the world is still going on and the sun is still shinning if they’re just accept it is what it is. I love your works, have i said that? I’ll say it again, im justt ugh im loving it to the point of i need to consume it everyday, and i love you thanks for your masterpieces!!

Anon, I’m kissing your forehead and holding you close 🤍🫂 Thank you so much for your support! I’ve had my fair share of body image issues, so I get it, BUT I want you to know that you’re beautiful, your boobs are amazing just the way they are, and there’s zero reason to feel insecure.

Your body is part of what makes you, you—and that is wonderful.

In His Eyes

1.8k | Dieter Bravo x f!reader | 18+

Warnings: insecure!reader, fluff, sweet!Dieter, sex talk A/N: My mind went straight to Dieter somehow...he just strikes me as a tits guy. Happy reading! 🤍

The glitzy world of Hollywood feels like another universe, a place where everyone is unnaturally beautiful, perfectly polished, and always on display.

Ever since you started dating Dieter, that world has been closer than you ever expected it to be. It’s like being constantly thrown into the deep end of a pool you didn’t even want to swim in, surrounded by model-like women who make you feel smaller by comparison.

It’s not that Dieter makes you feel this way—he’s actually a lot more down-to-earth than you’d expected for someone who is, well, Dieter Bravo. But the groupies, the social media influencers, the actresses at those Hollywood parties—they make you feel it.

Like no matter how much Dieter is into you, there’s always going to be someone thinner, prettier, younger, with smoother skin and...nicer tits.

You’ve always hated yours.

They’re big, heavy, not the gravity-defying, perky kind you see on social media or in porn. There’s some sag, stretch marks that remind you they’re real, but not what’s considered “ideal.” Dieter’s never said anything about it, but lately, it’s all you can think about. Every time you see him surrounded by those women, it gnaws at you, leaving a pit of insecurity in your stomach.

You’re sitting on the couch in his apartment, your phone clutched in your hand as you scroll through Instagram, heart sinking with every photo you see. Dieter’s out at some event—another movie premiere, another round of beautiful people all posing for the camera. You hadn’t felt like going tonight, too overwhelmed by your own self-doubt to put on a dress and act like you belonged in that world.

You try to shake the feeling off, but it lingers, wrapping around you like a heavy blanket. Why does he even like me? you wonder, staring at a picture of some model with a perfect hourglass figure. What’s stopping him from being with someone like her?

The door opens, and Dieter steps in, still looking devastatingly handsome in his suit, his tie slightly loosened, a lazy smile on his face.

“Hey, babe,” he calls out, kicking off his shoes as he makes his way over to you. “You should’ve come. It was a circus, but the drinks were free, so...you know, could’ve been worse.”

You force a smile, closing out of Instagram and setting your phone down. “Yeah, I just wasn’t feeling it tonight. I’m glad you had a good time, though.”

Dieter pauses, eyeing you for a moment before plopping down on the couch beside you. “You’ve been ‘not feeling it’ a lot lately. Something wrong?”

You shrug, trying to play it off. “Just...stuff. It’s nothing.”

“Come on, don’t give me that,” he says, nudging you with his elbow, that familiar grin on his face. “You think I don’t notice when something’s up? You’ve been avoiding these events like the plague, and now you’re sitting here in the dark. That’s not you.”

You bite your lip, debating whether to brush it off or tell him the truth. Dieter’s easygoing, playful, not the kind of guy who dives into serious conversations. But he’s also observant, and you know he won’t let it go.

“I just...” you begin, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been feeling a little insecure lately.”

Dieter’s grin falters, his brow furrowing slightly. “Insecure about what?”

You hesitate, your heart pounding. “About...me. My body. My boobs.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you feel the words hanging heavily in the air. You brace yourself for whatever reaction might come, but Dieter just blinks at you, as if waiting for you to elaborate.

“You’re constantly around these beautiful women,” you explain, your voice quieter now. “These perfect, gorgeous actresses and models and whatnot...and yeah, sometimes I feel like garbage compared to them. Especially...I mean, my tits aren’t...”

You trail off, not sure how to finish the sentence. You expect Dieter to brush it off, to laugh it away or make a joke. But instead, he shifts, turning to face you fully, his expression surprisingly serious for once.

“Wait, wait, hold on,” he says, holding up a hand. “You’re feeling insecure because of them? Because of all those...what? Barely legal models and influencers who’ve already had ten plastic surgeries by the time they turned eighteen? Babe, they’re literally paid to look like that. That’s their whole deal—selling a fantasy. It’s not real.”

You glance down, feeling the weight of your insecurities pressing down on you again. “I know, but it doesn’t make it easier when it’s all I see here. I just...I can’t stop thinking that one day you’ll realize you could be with someone like that instead of...me.”

Dieter stares at you for a second, then lets out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “Are you kidding me?”

Your stomach twists, and you can’t help but wince. “No, I’m not kidding. This isn’t funny to me.”

“Okay, no, I’m sorry.” He reaches out, grabbing your hands, his grip warm and grounding. “I get that you’re serious. But you’ve got this all wrong.”

You frown, unsure of what he means, but Dieter leans in, his dark eyes locking onto yours, his voice lower and softer now. “You think I’m into you despite how you look? You think I’m sitting here going, ‘Well, I guess I’ll settle for her, even though there’s all these other women’? That’s not how this works, babe.”

You blink, taken aback by his sudden intensity. “Yeah, but all your exes had–”

“Let me be crystal clear,” he interrupts, squeezing your hands a little tighter. “I’m with you because I wanna be with you. And that includes your smart mouth, your amazing brain, and your beautiful body. Every part of it.”

Your cheeks heat up, but you still can’t shake the doubt. “But my boobs–”

“Are fucking perfect,” he cuts in, his eyes flicking down to your chest before meeting your gaze again. “Jesus, how many boners do you need to give me just from existing in the same vicinity as me before you start to believe it?”

You can’t help the incredulous laugh that escapes you. “You’re a dork.”

Dieter lets go of your hands and moves closer, his fingers sliding up to gently cup your face. “I may very well be, but I’m also serious. Look at me.” He waits until your eyes meet his again, his voice steady and insistent. “I’m a shallow, sex-obsessed, movie star, right? If I wasn’t into every inch of you, why the hell would I still be here?”

You crack a smile at his self-deprecation, but the weight of your insecurities still lingers. “I dunno. Maybe you love other parts of me and take the bad with the good?”

Dieter groans softly, leaning against the couch, his hands dropping to your waist. “You don’t really believe that, do you? And, okay, you want me to be brutally honest?”

You nod, unsure but curious.

He smiles, his fingers grazing your waist as he speaks. “Every time you walk into a room, the first thing I notice? Your beautiful face, your radiance, how you light up the whole damn place with your presence. It’s like you pull all the air out of the room, and suddenly, there’s just you.”

“Oh, stop it…”

“I’m serious,” he insists, his eyes locked on yours, a smirk tugging on his lips. “And then, a millisecond after that? Your tits.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Of course.”

“They’re amazing. Like, out-of-this-world amazing. They’re real, and soft, and they’re part of you. And trust me when I say, I’m not looking at anyone else. Not like that.”

His words are sinking in, but part of you still struggles to believe it. Unfortunately, the insecurities you’ve harbored for so long won’t just vanish with a few compliments, no matter how sweet they are.

“But I’m…never gonna look like the rest of your…friends or whatever. And it makes me feel like an outsider,” you say a little quieter now. “And I know you love me, and I know I’m too old to feel this way, I know, but I just…do.”

“Why would you want to look like them, though?” he asks, genuine confusion in his voice.

“Um, what kind of question is that?” you ask incredulously. “Because they’re beautiful and successful and–”

“Fake,” Dieter interrupts bluntly, cutting you off without hesitation. “Airbrushed, filtered, and half of them are so miserable they can’t go to sleep without a cocktail of Percocet and vodka knocking them out. Trust me, I know.” He’s serious now, the playful tone gone. “Their lives? Their bodies? None of it is real. It’s smoke and mirrors, and it’s fucked up that it’s sold as something desirable.”

You open your mouth to say something, but he doesn’t let you. His hands move up, resting just below your ribcage, his gaze unwavering as he speaks.

“You’re real, babe. That’s what I want. I’m not interested in some blow-up doll version of a person. And even if I used to be into that, or if that’s what other people want—so what?” He leans in closer, the look in his big, warm puppy eyes making your heart race, clouding your senses. “I’m with you now. Because I want you. Because you’re the one that gets me out of bed in the morning and keeps me up at night.”

“Thank you, Dee,” you whisper, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips, your heart swelling. You wrap your arms around him tightly, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. His familiar scent and warmth surround you, comforting you in ways words alone can’t. His hands find their way to your back, gently rubbing, soothing. 

For a moment, everything is quiet, just the sound of his steady breathing against your ear. At last, your mind is calm. 

“You know I’m constantly daydreaming about your tits, right?” Dieter murmurs suddenly, catching you off guard like only he can. “Playing with them for hours on end, burying my face in them, licking them, sucking on them…pressing them together and fucking them. Or just watching them bounce while you’re on top of me.” 

You laugh softly, shaking your head at how shameless he is, but your body responds to every word. “Dee…”

“It’s bad, okay? Can’t even really jerk off to porn anymore…I think you broke my brain, babe.”

You chuckle and pull back just enough to look into his eyes. “Be careful, or I might just start believing you.” 

“Yeah?” he grins, his hands never leaving your body.

“Yeah.” You bite your lip, feeling the heat rising between you. “But I think I might need a little more..convincing.”

----- Thank you for reading! 🤍 Masterlist | inbox

[prolix-yuy]

Simulated

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader Actress

Summary: You're a professional, which is why a sex scene with Dieter Bravo will be no problem at all. Now you just have to convince yourself to believe it.  

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, simulated sex, grinding, fantasizing about sex, anxiety, lil bit of size kink, probably incorrect method for filming sex scenes but I'm using what I know and making up the rest. Don't do this for real, this is fantasy and Dieter is a filthy boy.

Notes: This leapt out of my brain and was enabled by the Discord besties. Dieter brainrot is setting back in but I doubt anyone's complaining. This may be the sexiest thing I've ever written without actual sex happening, but you all can be the judge of that.

Cross-posted on AO3

Midnight Alley Masterlist

Trembling on the verge of passing out is not how you wanted your first time in Dieter Bravo’s arms to be, but no amount of reprimands to your rebelling body have worked. 

It’s not him, far from it. Dieter had been nothing but gentlemanly since you came in for scene blocking. The director offered to have stand-ins while they adjusted lighting and staged the shots, but you boldly offered to come in anyways. It wasn’t your first shoot, but it was your first sex scene, and you wanted to impress the director with your no-nonsense attitude about it. 

All that confidence flew out the window when you came face to face with your scene partner, Dieter Bravo. Well aware of his aloof playboy nature, you didn’t expect his handshake to be so warm, the quirk of his smile to make your heart flutter, or for him to smell so strongly of eucalyptus. Apparently his agent mentioned you would be there for staging, and he decided to come in to test your chemistry. No issues there, your curious eyes roaming over his wrinkled cargo pants and threadbare sweater. He could be wearing nothing and you’d still melt into a puddle. Which, shockingly, wouldn’t be that far in the future.

Calm down, girl. Be professional.

To be fair, Dieter is fucking gorgeous, even under the bloodshot eyes and air of annoyance. His curls are even softer looking in person, heavy shoulders stretching his t-shirts and bulky forearms complimenting his thick thighs. Even the little pooch of a tummy makes you salivate. While your friends drool over Tom Hiddleston or Harry Styles, your heart beats fast for men who can crush you under their bulk. “Weighted blanket boys,” you like to call them, and Dieter wholly falls into that category. 

Which is why when you got the casting call for a bit part in the crime drama Midnight Alley, which Dieter had been co-starring in for three seasons, you leapt at the opportunity. Even if you didn’t get to share a scene, at least you could catch a glimpse, maybe say hello. That was surely worth the long hours. His proclivities for casual sex definitely didn’t fit into that plan. No sir. Definitely not.

It all became real when you got the pages. Your character was a one night stand, relegated to three scenes - the bar where you make eyes across a crowd, the tasteful sex scene (though only barely - tv ratings have really changed in the last twenty years), and the morning after when he leaves to go to a crime scene. The “gaze across the smoky dance floor” was easy enough; anyone with half a brain and a pulse would blush at Dieter’s intense stare, raised eyebrow, and sly grin, a signature of his questionable character. It raises goosebumps down your arms, his parted lips and the slip of his pink tongue resting just inside, the crinkle of his eyes when he knows he’s got you. If a man ever gave you that look you’d be in his bed in moments. 

Scratch that. Not just any man. Dieter’s the only one who could pull that off.

The blocking should have evened out your nerves, and in the moment you believed it did. Dieter was an absolute gentleman, even warmer than you hoped, as you waited to be called on set.

“Ever done a scene like this before?”

“First time. Can you tell?”

He thumbed through his thicker script.

“Wasn’t going to make you more nervous by pointing it out. But yes.”

You blew out a puff of air, making Dieter smirk even more as you crinkled your sheets.

“How do we…?”

“You know the direction?”

“Yeah, it seems…straightforward.”

“Well, today we’re just going to do the major movements - positions, angles, you know - and while they mark focus and shine a light directly up my asshole, we can talk.”

A burst of giggles pulled a wider smile onto his face, waiting for you to calm yourself.

“What do we talk about?”

“What’s comfortable for you. What would pull you out of the scene. What you’re open to. You’re our guest after all.”

So your afternoon was spent pantomiming the sex acts written for you and…talking. Which wasn’t supposed to be sexy, or like two hours of incredibly hot foreplay, but your body apparently didn’t get the memo.

“Anything you really don’t want me to touch? Besides the obvious,” Dieter asked, coming down from his hands to his elbows by your face. The tip of his nose brushed briefly against yours. A hairlight shifted in your periphery.

“My ribs are pretty ticklish,” you admitted, nodding to the assistant director Ramona when she moved on to the next setup. Scooping his hands behind your back, Dieter pulled you on top, showing how to sit a little further up on his stomach to fake the grinding. Unfortunately, the plush flesh against your core didn’t help with the ache.

“Here’s okay?” he asked, wrapping his hands just under your breasts, the tips of his thumbs barely grazing the swell. You nodded, body getting jolted again when the director Adiel asked for Dieter to scoot up the bed a few inches.

“My, uh…” you said, then stopped as you lost confidence. Dieter took his hands off your chest and laced them on his own. He looked up at you expectantly. “My…nipples are really sensitive, so I know I’ll have pasties on and everything, but, it’s like, uncomfortable if they get touched certain ways. So I just wanted to…warn you of that. It shouldn’t be a problem, just, ah, you know, just in case.” Your throat closed up, embarrassment at even saying anything crushing your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“Thanks for telling me, I appreciate it.” Dieter patted your thigh and his smile was a little more tender than before. 

God, he really looked good underneath you.

“My skin’s sensitive too, scratches show up really clearly on it and it pisses off the cinematographer. So that’s the only thing we’ll have to watch out for there.” The shuffle of changing positions interrupts your conversation until you’re on your stomach with him pressed against your back.

“Sorry if I pop one too, it’s kind of par for the course with these. I’m good at keeping it under control for the most part.” You giggle into the pillow as he hovers over you. 

“My biggest advice?” Dieter murmurs, mouth close to your ear. You hum into the pillow. “Let yourself have fun. It’s not gonna feel natural, but that doesn’t mean it’s gotta feel cold. You won’t offend me if you go off script. I might too, if it feels right. If we’re having fun, the audience will too.”

The weight of his body bearing down on you drives any more anxieties out of your blissed-out brain.

The day of the sex scene comes quicker than you’d like, and the tender crush you’d been nursing for Dieter has become a panicked bird inside your ribcage. You’d spent the hours before preparing, mentally and physically with an indulgent morning routine, but nothing can stop your nerves when Dieter catches sight of you and gives a little wave. He’s in jeans and a black button-up, hair being artfully styled but sunglasses still on. One knee bounces in the chair but otherwise he looks cool as a cucumber. 

The sliver of golden chest you peep through the neck of his shirt sends you scurrying to your dressing room.

Everything leading up to the moment you step on set is distraction. Chatting with makeup, hair, props, with the fucking boom operator who looks just as confused as you are that you’re asking about good places to eat in the area. You talk with the intimacy coordinator, who gives you final notes on the scene. (“If Dieter makes you uncomfortable at all you give me The Eyes and I’ll correct him. No questions asked. I’ve worked with him for years, and I will cuss him out to his face.”) Eventually there’s no one left, and you’re standing alone clutching a water bottle to your chest when Dieter sidles up.

“Nervous?”

You almost jump out of your bathrobe. Which would suck because all you had on was a dark lace lingerie set, pair of pasties and the strange modesty patch protecting your lady bits. Sometimes seeing the behind-the-scenes really did erase the movie magic.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s a little more real now than the rehearsal,” you sigh, and Dieter’s bray of a laugh actually calms you. He puts a hand on your back and rubs firm, soothing circles that bring your heart back into an acceptable rhythm.

“You’ll do fine. And I’ve done this…eh, probably more times than it’s polite to mention. You’re in good hands.” He pulls off his sunglasses, treating you to rich brown eyes you could lose yourself in if you weren’t a professional, goddammit. 

“Close the set, please!” Ramona calls out, and the nonessential crew files out until it’s just you and Dieter and about eight other people who will be watching you writhe and moan. Taking in a deep breath and letting it out loudly, you shake your limbs and metaphorically gird your loins (since they already are pretty girded).

“Can I have actors on set please?” You stride up to the bed with as much confidence as you can muster, Dieter strolling up behind you. Now that he’s close he smells like fresh cotton and spice, a sharp shift from the earthier scents you’d been experiencing. Even a hint of mint from his breath, suddenly thankful you’d brushed and mouthwashed twice. 

“Positions for Scene 17.”

Yes, the first shot. Dieter would be hovering over you, kissing you as he pulls his shirt off. You would be in your bra and panties, slivers of your body visible in the frame but Dieter’s broad chest and unbuttoned waistband on display. Sliding the bathrobe off and placing it off camera, you arrange your limbs on the bed, hands shaking just a little now. Dieter stands at the foot, and if you weren’t about to simulate sex you’d swear he was devouring you with his heavy gaze.

Just getting into character. Breathe.

“Roll sound.”

“Speed.”

“Scene 17a, take one. Roll camera.”

“Rolling.”

“...Action.”

As the set drops to silence, you watch Dieter change from the slightly aloof but sympathetic actor to a brooding morally gray detective needing to bury his failures in a soft body. Despite your coaching, your eyes widen at the set of his jaw, how dark his eyes become when he wrenches off the offending button-up. He sinks to his knees between your thighs and hovers over you, hands pushed into the mattress on either side of your head. 

“Be good for me, yeah?” he husks, deeper and full of gravel. You nod, and he descends to crush your lips together. He urges your mouth open and works your lips together, but his tongue stays obediently behind his teeth. 

Fuck, for a second you forgot you were acting.

His hips dip, denim scraping along the inside of your thighs. He parts from your mouth with a gasp, forehead coming down to press against yours. He takes a deep breath, then…

“Cut! Reset.”

You blink slowly, Dieter already lifting back up to stand at the foot of the bed, rebuttoning his shirt. 

“Any notes?” he asks, voice so calm and clear you snap back to the reality of the situation. 

“When you’re kissing, pull her thighs up around you,” Adam says, Dieter’s head swiveling back.

“That all right by you?” he asks, smoothing the shirt on his skin. 

“Yeah, yeah, absolutely,” you answer, trying not to croak out the words. It was just the first take, it’s fine that you’re a little off-kilter. It would be easier by the second one.

It was not. Not by the third either, still swimming in the heady arousal that wafts from Dieter’s commanding presence. The director complimented how you clutched at his shoulders when he squeezed your thighs, which you tried to pass off as purposeful rather than hanging on for dear life. You were doomed, you’d bitten off more than you could chew and you were going to mess up this role and had no idea how to stop it.

Three more scenes to go.

You take a lap as they reposition the cameras, flip-flops slapping against the concrete floors of the soundstage as you debate if you have enough time to rub one out before going back, just to take the edge off.

“Actors back on set!”

Dammit.

Scene 18 has you riding Dieter, his hands guiding you until he bares his teeth (your signal to move with him) and rolls you on your back to pound you into the mattress. The lingerie is gone now, the cool air of the soundstage caressing over curves of your body that most people rarely see. Dieter averts his eyes when you disrobe, and carefully arranges himself below you. You’re feeling more centered, straddling Dieter with a little less fire burning between your legs, but your troubles take a sharp turn.

“Lean forward a little more, you’re half out of the shot.”

“A little faster.”

“Put your hand on his stomach about ten seconds in.”

“Never mind, back to how we had it before.”

“No, we said no hand, remember?”

“Do you need a break?”

Your body shakes after take 6, half from the exhaustion of lifting up on your knees over and over, your toes starting to go numb, and half with anxiety over forgetting another cue, or missing another note. The smile you keep shooting the director is getting strained, and mortifying tears start to prick your eyes. Dieter is watching your face closely, and with a pointed look at Ramona she calls a brief break. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, guiding you off his lap to sit on the edge of the bed. You cross your arms over your chest, and he reaches over to give you your robe. Draping his own over his lap, he strokes that soothing pattern of circles over your back as you shake your head.

“Sorry, it felt so easy in rehearsal, I’m having like, a weird lockup right now,” you stammer out.

“It’s okay,” he says, “I know what it is.” You look up at him with more desperation in your eyes than you mean. He nods sympathetically.

“It’s the cock sock, isn’t it?” 

He delivers the line completely deadpan. The shock of the phrase, plus the serious set of his brow, makes hysterical laughter burst from your lips. You bury your face in your hands and shake as Dieter’s deep chuckles tickle into your ear.

“That’s better, just need to get a little of that tension out,” he soothes, meeting your eyes with a charming smile. If only this could be a real moment, not something looked on by several men and women drinking coffees. Dieter seems like the kind of partner who would always make you comfortable, and seen, and absolutely satisfied.

That last thought tingles the baby hairs on the back of your neck as you move back into position. Straddling Dieter once again, the ridiculous genital covering out of sight, he grips your shoulders.

“Okay, let’s get back into character here, yeah? Remember your motivation?”

You nod. Not that the scene really needed a deep backstory, but you’d decided you were blowing off steam after a rough few days at work and an ex texting you to get back together. Dieter was mysterious, exciting, so different from your past boyfriends, and when he met your eyes across the room all you wanted was for him to wash the bad taste of their memories out. 

“Got it? Good. Here’s mine,” he says, leaning up while the last few preparations finish around you. Lips to your ear, he whispers only for you. 

“Another dead end, another long day, and I want something to distract me. I’ve got my eye on my usual type, but then I see you. You stand out in the crowd, bold, confident. You hold my stare, challenge me. I thought I wanted something easy, something mindless, but looking at you, I changed my mind. I wanted something with substance, someone to give as good as she gets, and I know you’ll give me even better. My cock got hard just looking at you, you’re fucking perfect. And then when you let me buy you a drink and you criticized my whiskey choice, I wanted to bend you over the bar right there. So I’m taking you home to bury my troubles, but you can surprise me as many more times as you like. I like to be surprised. I want you to take me as much as I’m taking you.”

Dieter lies back with a hell of a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“Action!”

Your body moves with an ease that had been eluding you, liquid rolls as you take your time riding him. His hands come up to your hips, urging you faster, and instead you grind down on him, pressing your hands into his chest and pinning him into the bed. You’re not supposed to be fighting him, but it feels so right to arch and rock harder into him. His bare legs flex against your ass, meeting your hips with his thrusts. You can imagine how good he’d feel if you weren’t faking this, how his powerful thrusts would hit your g-spot. His hand cups the back of your neck, teeth bared in warning as he rolls you onto your back. 

“You’re so sexy,” he growls in your ear, hooking your legs around his waist and smacking his hips into yours. The impact is softer than it looks, aided by your moans and writhing beneath him. He goes for a handful more thrusts before “Cut!” is shouted again.

“There we go! I like the improv, can we do just one more for coverage?” Ramona says, giving you an approving smile when you immediately get into position. 

“I could go all night,” Dieter shoots back, earning an eye roll from half the crew and a dry mouth from you when he flicks his gaze back and winks. 

The second take flows even better, your bodies finally speaking to each other. Dieter palms your ass, you slow your hips. He urges you to go faster, you grind down on him. He grits his teeth as you push his chest, nails just about to bite into the supple flesh. His eyes capture yours over and over, and the hunger inside them is some damn good acting. 

The cues, the flip, and you’re on your back again, but this time Dieter drops his head to cover your breast with his hot mouth. You arch, a strangled gasp as you wait for his tongue, his teeth, but he works his jaw against the flesh and nothing more.

Fuck, you want something more.

When he pops his mouth off he resumes the script, thrusting frantically into you but with more force this time, even an edge of desperation. You meet his energy, throwing your head back and letting him yank you against him over and over. The slap, the friction, this gorgeous man before you all makes slick weep from your untouched cunt, clit aching for the act you’re simulating.

“Cut! Excellent, really good work guys, you’re hitting your groove here. Let’s move on to 19.”

Dieter stays above you for a few seconds more, your chests heaving. The lust bleeds away to a soft smile as he pats your side.

“Good work, you take direction really well.”

You bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying, “Just from you.”

You take one more walk around the soundstage to try and calm your rebellious body, but the moment you see Dieter again, kneeling in the bed with the blankets bunched in front of his hips, it’s all dashed away. Even his respectful touches as he guides you to your stomach, checking in if you’re comfortable, all burn across your skin. You just need to get through this scene.

“Action!”

This is indeed the finale. Dieter would finish above you, pounding into you from behind. You were supposed to lie there and take it, let him cuss and choke into the back of your shoulder before his breathing slows and you cut to the next morning. You could do that. You totally could. Most men you’ve been with hump you into the bed like this and it does very little for you. This would be fine.

The moment Dieter starts rutting against your ass you know you’re done for. You’re too worked up, and the position lightly teases your nipples. A wrinkle of blanket rubs against your mound just enough to relieve your clit, and while you know you should stop you can’t help but grind into the bed just enough to light up your nerves. Dieter hovers above you, thick forearms planted by your shoulders as he hisses and grunts his way to a fake climax. You press back against him, giving your own satisfied smile as he drops his forehead between your shoulders and rolls his hips again. 

“Not bad, can we go one more time?”

Shit. You’d hoped that would be enough, arousal rising dangerously between your thighs. Rearranging the sheets to deny you pleasure, you catch Dieter slumping to one side and watching you. It’s intense, being in his stare, but also warming and protective. When you lie back on your stomach and give him a nod that you’re ready, he leans down and whispers in your ear.

“If you want it, you can have it. I won’t tell anyone. You take it when it comes.”

You barely get a moment of shock before the cameras are rolling and the scene begins again. Did Dieter just…insinuate that he’d cover for you if you came? The thought makes wetness gush between your thighs, now lacking the friction you were relishing in earlier. The need aching in your cunt makes you roll your hips back against Dieter, a strained “fuck” spitting through his teeth. He grabs your hips and guides you against his narrow ones, not quite hitting where you want but the snap and slap of him against you still works you up more than it should. You cry out, bury your face in the pillow, fist the blankets as he chases his release. The practiced groan signals the end, this time his cheek pressing against your back and a kiss dotting your spine. 

Thank God. You were finally in the clear.

“I think we need one more, guys. I want a little more…intimacy this time. You both okay with that?”

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

“I don’t…” you started to protest until Dieter’s hand finds its way to the back of your neck.

“I think you can do it. I know you can. One more time?” he asks, but in his eyes is a promise that makes you nod, even against your better judgment.

This time I’ll make you cum.

Dieter changes tactics when the cameras roll. He starts off fast, yanking you back against him. Sitting up on his heels he arches you off the bed with his expansive hands. His thighs cage you in, squeezing tight. Something thick and soft slides against your ass, and you realize Dieter is hard behind you, cock still wrapped up but the weight of it against you obvious. You want him between your legs, fat head sliding over your clit, but you let him adjust you to exactly where he wants. 

With Dieter’s guidance you rock and writhe against him, drips of praise reaching your ears. With a deeply groaned, “Fuck, baby,” he folds over you, stomach pressing into your back. His fingers lace with your own, hugging you to his chest as he pumps his hips in long strokes. His cock nudges your lower back, little gasps keening out. He noses your cheek and guides you to turn your face to the camera. 

“This okay?” he mouths into your ear and you let out a, “Yes, please,” loud enough to mean anything for the camera. You slide a hand into his hair, gripping the thick curls to a stuttered sigh of pleasure. The pressure and motion finally gives you the stimulation you need, and it’s barely any time before your orgasm barrels to the forefront. You tighten your grip on Dieter’s large hand and school your face just enough to not look like you’re cumming through the hottest scene you will ever act in.

“That’s it, take it, take it baby, you’re doing so well, fucking god, look at you,” Dieter groans into your ear. He presses you deeper into the mattress, muting the uncontrollable bucking of your hips for the camera. Teeth scrape along your jaw in tender nips as he stutters to his fake finish, a guttural groan and relaxing of his body signaling the end of the scene. But Dieter lifts up on one elbow and pinches your chin between two fingers, turning your face to his. He looks at you like a mystery to be solved, like a gift, and then kisses you, slow and indulgent.

“Cut! Excellent, loved the ad libbing Dee, but you gotta stop saying fuck, we’ll have to cut that out,” the director says. Dieter laughs against your back, and the warmth of his skin makes you want to melt into the bed and never leave. 

“You doing okay?” he asks, lifting up off you and tugging both your bathrobes over to give you some modesty. He fists his own over his swollen erection, a little pink high in his cheeks and sweat along his hairline.

“Yeah, perfect, absolutely,” you say lightly, legs wobbling when you try to stand up. His eyes drag over you, a prideful smile playing on his lips as you try to cover up your dazed affect. “One more scene?” you say brightly.

“Yeah,” he says, distracted. “One more scene.”

The final shot of your day is the following morning, soft yellow light traded for the cool blue of daylight streaming in. You’re facing away from the camera, Dieter waking and looking over at your naked shoulder. He sits up and strokes along the curve of your waist, making you sigh in your sleep. He watches you with a mix of regret and resolution, kisses your shoulder, and gets out of bed.

The scene is done in one take. You wish it took all day.

The end of the shoot is quiet, taking off makeup and getting back into your public clothes. You strain to hear someone coming to your dressing room, a certain wild-haired brown-eyed man giving you a sendoff. A kind word, a piece of advice, you’d take anything. But he doesn’t come, and you leave the soundstage with your check and thanks and promises of references. 

The drive back to your apartment is quiet, music even feeling too loud for the moment. Weaving through LA traffic, the moments of your day slip through your mind like silk ribbons.

You suppose this is what meeting your heroes is like. A moment in the sunlight of their presence, then back to the real world of auditions and day jobs and hoping your parents never see this particular part of your portfolio. The dishes need washing, calls need to be made, and you have to go on with your life. It was an excellent experience, albeit a slightly inappropriate one. But if that’s the worst you got up to with Dieter then it was fairly tame.

The fleeting thought of what you’d actually hoped you’d get up to with Dieter comes and leaves without incident. 

By the time you get home you’re planning what casting call you’d go to tomorrow, making your grocery list, and considering if you can get away without doing laundry tonight. Which is why you walk past the bouquet of flowers in the atrium without checking who it’s for. Waiting for the elevator, however, curiosity gets the better of you and you peek at the card.

Your name. It’s your name on the perfectly imperfect bouquet of garden roses and eucalyptus. You’re opening the card as your cell phone vibrates in your pocket. Fishing it out, you greet the Midnight Alley casting agent on the other end.

“Are you open to a semi-recurring role?” 

“W-what?”

“Yeah, the director and AD were really impressed with your chemistry with Bravo. They’ve been trying to write him a love interest in the show, but he’s turned down all the potential actresses and guest stars. No chemistry, bad chemistry, whatever, but the point is he asked for them to consider you.”

Your hands shake, the clean white card pinched between your fingers.

I think we can do better together than that. Dinner?

-DB

“What do you think?”

Your heart flutters as you set it free.

“When can I start?”

END

[chiriwritesstuff]

christine ➫ 38 ➫ HNL, HI / PNW (Seattle, Mostly) ➫ full-time baby girl, part-time feral gremlin. architectural designer by day, fanfic writer by night. This is an 18+ Blog, please, MDNI.

Chiri's Socials ➫ AO3 ➫ Pinterest ➫ Insta ➫ Spotify

➫ Recent Releases / WIPs:

Hometown Glory; 1. Back to the Old House │ Frankie Morales x F! Lawyer Reader 'Glory'

… in Every Universe; 1. Let Me In (Sneak Peek) │ Modern! Din Djarin x F! Reader

Constellations; From The Vault │ Lucien Flores x F! Reader One Shot / Drabble

The New Girl in Tinseltown; 3. Fake Smile │ Dieter Bravo x F! Actress Reader

The Girl in IT; 8. The Panic! in the Breakroom (Christine's Version) │ Joel Miller x F! Reader

➫ Upcoming Fics / On the Docket:

'Kintsugi' - a 'Meet Me at the Farmers Market' trilogy - Joel Miller x Plus Size! F! Reader

'My Wife in IT' (a 'The Girl in IT' Sequel!) - CEO Joel Miller x Wife! Reader

'Ghost in the Machine' - Marcus Moreno x F! Heroic Reader

'Return of Saturn' - a Pedro Boys! collective of one-shots inspired by No Doubt's Return of Saturn album

➫ Full Masterlist under the cut!

'Hometown Glory' - Frankie Morales x F! Lawyer Reader 'Glory' 👀 ➫ In Progress!

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: You're thriving in your career, having established yourself as a sought-after family lawyer in the bustling city. But there's a pull back to your hometown, a longing for roots and a sense of belonging that drives you to open your own firm there. Just as you're settling into this new chapter, a blast from the past walks through your office doors. It's him—the man who unknowingly held your heart, the one you never quite got over. A face you swore you would never see again... and he's seeking your legal help for his divorce and custody battle from the girl you believed to be your best friend. You two never officially dated, but the chemistry between you was undeniable. Yet a string of misunderstandings and missed chances kept you apart, leaving you with lingering feelings and unanswered questions. Now, as you find yourself face-to-face with him again, old emotions resurface, along with memories of what could have been. But amidst the legal complexities of his divorce, you realize this might be the opportunity you've been waiting for—to finally address the lingering feelings between you and uncover the truth that has kept you apart for so long.

'... in Every Universe' - A Roswell-inspired Modern! Din Djarin x F! Reader Soulmates AU 👀 ➫ In Progress!

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: At five years old, you're found wandering alone in a weird town called Roswell and have no recollection of how you got there. 20 years later, you're working at your adoptive family's diner and you can't help the connection you feel with the town's bounty hunter, who just can't stop staring at you... what happens when you're on the brink of death and the man in question saves you in a way you can't explain?

'The New Girl in Tinseltown' - A Dieter Bravo x Actress! Reader PR Marriage AU 👀 ➫ In Progress!

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: What happens when America’s New Girl-Next-Door is caught canoodling with a semi-washed up actor who is on the verge of losing his next movie role? You strike up a mutually beneficial PR relationship, of course! It’s all pretend, right? It’s not like you could actually fall for Dieter fucking Bravo… or can he convince you to take a chance?

'Call it fate, call it karma' - Javier Pena x F! Reader 👀 ➫ In Progress!

Read it here!

Summary: Two broken people on New Years Eve.

'The Girl in IT' - Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader 👀 ➫ In Progress!

The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Series Summary: When an IT specialist who feels behind in life stumbles upon a sexual bucket list on her boss's computer one night, what will she do once she finds out that it was written about her?

Meet Me at the Farmers Market - A Farmers Market! Joel AU - 👀 ➫ Updates Sporadic!

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: What does a Contractor do in his spare time? Sell his wood carvings at the Saturday Farmers Market, of course! A Grumpy x Sunshine Joel Miller series collective of one shots, coming this November!

The Impossible Man - Modern-Day Detective! Din Djarin x Witchy! Reader (Soulmates! AU) - 👀➫ On Hiatus!

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: For someone being born into a magical family, a curse placed on the women of your bloodline means you have mostly avoided witchcraft and its calling for the majority of your life. After a life-altering tragedy, you turn your back on your family and your gift and seek out a more normal, boring existence, devoid of magic, and mostly, of love. What happens when the ghosts of your past threaten your peaceful existence and you are forced to reconcile all that you have lost? Will you let the people you have abandoned in your past life back into your heart? Will the appearance of an impossible man you have unknowingly cursed yourself break the chains of love? Will you let him?

[wildemaven]

Sweet Creature: Chapter Eight

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 4643

Warnings: 18+ Blog; Talks of failed relationships, Bi!Dieter, Fingering (public, F receiving), food and drinks, fluff fluff fluff, handy in the car, praise kink if you squint, oral (semi-ish public; F receiving), reader’s nickname is Poppy- zero physical description, these two hot dogs are just trying to make up for lost time, if I missed something let me know

A/N: Uhh, this chapter ran away from me. But it worked out cause now these two get some lovin’ and we get an extra chapter! Thanks so much @gnpwdrnwhiskey for being the sweetest beta reader as always— I appreciate you and your eyes so much!!

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Main Masterlist

Previous / Next

“You don’t think she’ll be mad?”

“No Dieter, I don’t think she’ll be mad. Poppy’s totally going to understand, she loves you and will support whatever you do.”

Diem had always been able to reassure him when he needed it most, especially when it came to you— the one good thing in his life he refused to mess up. 

“Please don’t mention anything, I want to be able to do it in person— I’ll probably just tell her tonight.”

“Oh, shoot— I was just going to text her right now, ‘Hey Poppy! I wanted to tell you before Dieter did…’” Diem’s voice dripping in sarcasm, acting like she’s typing out a message on her phone. “Of course I won’t tell her— My lips are sealed!” Pretending to lock her lips and tossing an invisible key over her shoulder, laughing at his annoyance with her. 

“I can’t with you.” He sighs, scrubbing his hands over his face.

Dieter paces around the kitchen, not really sure what to do with himself, ready far sooner than he anticipated— nerves buzzing with excitement knowing he would be seeing you in 30 minutes— to pick you up for your date.

First official date. 

You had both laughed at how backwards it felt. Your first kiss. Your first time together. Your first ‘I love you’.— all done before you had even managed to go on an actual date. 

Finding a Friday that worked with your busy schedule, but that also led into a weekend where you could spend it together uninterrupted— no plans, just together. 

Dieter wanted to, as he put it, wine and dine you. He made reservations for 7 at a somewhat fancy Italian restaurant, only telling you to get dressed up in your favorite dress and that he’d pick you up at 6:30. 

He can’t remember the last time he had put this much effort into a date, probably due to the fact he hadn’t really ever been on one in years. 

Sure, there were a handful of women and men on his arm at many times in his life, accompanying him to five star restaurants across the greater Los Angeles area, pictures of them stumbling into the streets plastered across the tabloids the next day. 

‘Dieter Bravo & Mystery Woman Dining at Hollywood Hot Spot: Is She the One to Tame this Bad Boy?’

‘Dieter Bravo Seen Dancing with New Beau at Packed Nightclub’

Many were a lame attempt at a PR stunt, to draw attention to his upcoming movies he’d be starring in— but most of them were also meant to keep his name in the positive spotlight, distract from the shit show of his life behind the scenes. 

There were a few that felt like a little more than weekend arm candy, only to find out he was the one catching feelings, while they were looking to catch a free ride to stardom. 

There was the model he met on the set of a cologne campaign, also a sweet bubbly aspiring actress. The whirlwind fling seemed to move at lightning speed, and against his better judgment and the concerns of his people, she moved in after only a few short months of them seeing each other. Their relationship had been one of his many attempts at getting sober, wanting to give his best to her, but things became increasingly tempestuous as Dieter pulled away from the wild parties and she went out with friends, only to come home as the sun was coming up— leaving Dieter bored and alone. When Dieter caught word of her affair with his closest friend and fellow actor, he kicked her out of his house and began to spiral back into his old ways. 

Then there was the time with ‘what’s his face’, Dieter vaguely recalls what he looked like— let alone what his name was, gallivanting around Europe taking in its beautiful countryside, experiencing the food and the touristy atmosphere. When time came for them to head home, Dieter needing to prepare for a new role, he found himself flying back alone— leaving ‘what’s his face’ in Mallorca to continue on his soul-searching journey, which included some business opportunities with someone by the name of Lucas Gutierrez. 

The last relationship, if you could even call it that, was a drugged out daze where he almost married the receptionist of a high end hotel, Dieter had been convinced her hospitality meant she was in love with him. A weeks stay turned into a hazy mess of pleading for her to have sex with him while he was high as a kite, and by the end of the week she was saving his life and he was even more sure she was his forever— until his publicist and crisis manager had to step in and tell him he was not of sound mind to make such life altering decisions. 

Dieter had written off relationships or anything that resembled some sort of courtship, especially while in treatment— wanting to get himself right before even thinking about getting involved with someone. 

And then a year later, you came out of left field and had him seeing what love could feel like.

A knock at the front door pulls him from his head, glancing over to where Diem is eating dinner with Wren and getting a shrug of ‘I’m not expecting anyone’, he goes to answer it. 

Opening the door, he wasn’t expecting to see you, stunned into silence as his eyes slowly roamed over your body— completely done up, no semblance of your innocent teacher-look in sight. 

You take his reserved demeanor, no real expression except for wide eyes and a slack jaw, as if there was something wrong with how you looked. 

“What is it? Is the dress too much?” You say looking downward, smoothing out the fabric of your silky black dress and matching heels. You had given yourself a once over in the mirror before heading over, thinking everything was in place and really feeling the look— but maybe you had missed something. 

“N-no— No! You look fine— I mean you look beautiful.” Dieter stammers over his words, the way your dress hugs every inch of you has his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. “Wow!”

“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself there, handsome.” Biting your bottom lip as you adjust the wonky lapel on his navy suit, giggling at how you both can’t seem to stop staring at each other. 

“You’re early!” The realization hit him, looking over the clock on the oven to see he still had another 25 minutes before he even needed to leave. 

“I know. But I’ve been ready for the last hour and I was getting bored sitting on my couch waiting— plus there’s only so many songs on one side of a record and I got tired of getting up to flip it. So, I figured I’d walk here, kill some time.”

“Poppy, it’s like a five minute walk from your house.” He laughs, but his chest swells at the thought of you being so excited for the evening. 

“Actually, it’s a good 8, maybe 10 minutes in these heels— which by the way, are made for sitting not walking, so the sooner I can sit the better.” You mention as you shift your body from side to side, trying to relieve the tension that’s already settling into the balls of your feet. 

“Let’s go then.”

He runs back to the counter to grab his phone and his keys, stopping to give Wren a kiss on her head and a good night to both her and Diem. 

“You kids behave yourselves!” Diem quips with a smirk. 

“Uncle Dieter and Poppy aren’t kids mama! You adults behave!! Are they going to get in trouble?!” Wren confused, trying to wrap her head around the whole thought of her uncle and Poppy not behaving. 

Thankfully it’s a short walk, his hand securely on the small of your back as he guides you from the front door to his car, mindful of your slow calculated steps. 

A machine-like beep echoes out into the night as he unlocks the door, you start to bend down slightly to reach for the door handle, but Dieter grabs your wrist, carefully pulling you to him— your chest colliding with his. 

“You look beautiful, Poppy.” He breathes against your mouth, his nose gently nudging at yours before his lips seal over your awaiting lips. 

You can’t help the small whine that escapes your throat the moment his tongue slowly invades your mouth, eliciting a lustful moan of his own as he deepens the kiss. 

With his hands firmly grabbing onto the globes of your ass, pulling your lower half as close to him as possible, he shuffles your bodies around before pressing your back into the side of his car, the cold metal hitting your bare back sends a shiver down your spine, his feet tapping against yours signaling you to widen your stance as much as your dress will allow.

The way his lips continue to move over yours paired with the slight grind of his hips, a prominent bulge rutting up against the ache that has begun to settle between your legs, your appetite grows for something a little stronger and involving less clothes— is it too late to cancel reservations?

Goosebumps scatter across your skin as the sensation of his fingers gliding over your thigh, breaching the slit in your dress and settling at your unclothed and heated core— no panties were a risky move with how high the slit of your dress went, but the choice was paying off earlier than you had expected. 

Your fingers digging into the back of his arms to help  keep you upright, fearing your legs might give out at any moment. 

“Can you be quiet for me?” He asks against your swollen lips— grateful you opted for a gloss over a stain of color, knowing this might have been on the menu for the evening. 

You can only manage a nod as a jolt of pleasure hits you the minute his fingers push into your dripping pussy. 

Dieter covers your mouth with his other hand, quieting the tiny sounds that you can’t help making with how his fingers move so intently against your velvety walls, tripping the tiny live wires that have you electrified and pulsing around his digits. 

“Fuck Poppy, I can feel you’re already there. What’s got you so worked up already?” Dieter’s words muffled against your warm ear, his husky voice aiding in the chase for your release. 

He moves his hand from your mouth, your lips parting as you take a few quick breaths, your mind actively trying to string together a few coherent words. 

“Y-you.” Your response is airy, as you start to feel the building pressure of your climax. 

“Me?” He asks, removing himself from where he had settled against your neck, giving you a mocking puzzled look, playing stupid—he wants to hear you say it. 

“Yes— ah! You! Y-you look s-so— oh fuck! So fucking pretty! Oh god, Dieter— don’t stop please!” 

His hand moves to rest behind your neck, holding your head up so he can watch the way your face looks the second he sends you into a euphoric state. 

It’s a subtle swipe of his thumb over your throbbing clit, that has you catapulting into a blinding nirvana. 

Dieter presses his lips in a leisurely haphazard manner to your fiery skin as you come down from your peak, slowly removing his fingers from your spent cunt. 

You manage to catch his hand the moment it leaves the underside of your dress, locking your eyes with his as you bring the two fingers, now glistening under the moonlight, that worked earnestly to satisfy you up to your watery mouth. You wrap your lips around them, tasting your tangy sweet arousal, releasing his hand and wiping the corners of your mouth— Dieter practically coming in his suit pants at the sight

“Fuck, Poppy! You teach kids with that mouth of yours?” Eyebrows raised in question as he jokes at the lewd, yet arousing, gesture. 

“I knew you’d be a dessert before dinner kinda guy—” You reply, pressing a kiss to his cheek then whispering into his ear, “Hmm, plus, that’s not the only thing it can do.” 

You lightly push him off of you, giving him a sultry smile and a wink, adjusting your dress before opening the door to the car and getting in. 

“Fuck me!” He breathes out into the crisp evening air. 

*

The restaurant was the perfect backdrop for the evening— an outside table tucked in the corner of their patio with dim overhead lighting, candles glowing between table settings, a heavy card-stock menu listing their elaborate dishes and expensive wines. 

You had told Dieter on the ride over that you would have been more than fine with the local pizzeria or even stayed in and cooked together— he said the latter would be added on to the list of options for next time. 

Dieter had opted to sit next to you as opposed to sitting across the table— you didn’t argue, agreeing that it felt more intimate having him closer. It also allowed Dieter to rest his hand on your exposed thigh the entire evening, running his fingers along the seam where your leg crossed over the other— at times your hand resting over his, lighting caressing the top of his or changing it up and interlocking your fingers together.

The conversation flowed nicely once you were both satisfied with the order for the evening, sharing of childhood stories and funny life moments kept you both engaged and connected throughout the night. 

“What made you want to be a teacher?” Dieter asks, munching on a crunchy piece of garlic bread, his hand still resting on your leg while his thumb caresses over your knee. 

You finish your bite, wiping the pasta sauce from your mouth. 

“Actually, my mom is a teacher— she was my sixth grade teacher too. When I was in college trying to figure out my path, I remembered the joy she got out of being with her students and how much she had helped kids in my class. I knew it was something I wanted to do too. I guess we’re kind of alike in a way, following our parent’s footsteps.” Giving his hand a brief squeeze at the realization, your eyes beaming as you look at him. 

He smiles at the coincidence, he likes listening to you share these parts of your life with him. 

“What did you want to be as a kid?” He asks before taking a sip of his ice water. 

“Oh no!” Laughing softly at his question. “You’re going to laugh at me!”

“Well, now I need to know!” Trying to picture what a younger version of you would have dreamed of being in your adult life. 

“I don’t want to hear a single thing when I tell you, you understand me Bravo!” Jokingly point a finger at him as you prepare to reveal your childhood dream. 

He draws an X over his chest as a promise, encouraging you to continue. 

“I wanted to be an actress.” You reveal in a low hushed tone. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” He’s fighting back his laugh, tilting an ear in your direction as if he didn’t hear what you said. 

“I wanted to be an actress!” Your face scrunches up with embarrassment as you repeat yourself. 

“Would have never guessed!” It’s the smallest laugh that escapes, shaking his head in amusement. “What made you change your mind?”

“Fifth grade— I was the female lead in our class play, it was a musical. I was sure this was going to be the thing that proved how much I wanted to act, convince my mom to put me in acting classes— I secretly hoped that maybe I could make it big, then move to be with my Dad and I don’t know, prove to that I could be something to him.”

You take a sip of your white wine. When ordering earlier, you had told Dieter you would be fine with just water since he wasn’t drinking, but he had insisted it was fine— and you had to admit it paired well with your dish. 

“I practiced nonstop, to the point I think mother was counting down the days until opening night so she didn’t have to hear me belting out my solo song in my room. Opening night came, and my part was about half through the play— I was so excited. Once it was my scene, I walked out on stage, saw all the faces staring back at me and I just froze. I couldn’t even say my lines, let alone sing.”

“What did you do?” 

“I ran out of there so fast. Begged my mom to switch schools so I wouldn’t have to face my class again. My dreams of becoming a big star faded instantly and I realized also that wasn’t going to fix anything with my Dad. Could you imagine though? Me, an actress— that would be a fucking sight.”

You both laugh uncontrollably at the thought of you being a Hollywood star  and how different your life had become, agreeing that you ended up where you were meant to be. 

“When do I get to meet her?”

“My mom?”

“Yeah, I feel like I should meet the mother of my girlfriend— hopefully sooner than later.”

Girlfriend. 

You both hadn’t really discussed labels, and you were perfectly fine with letting things happen organically being this was all still new for you both. But also acknowledging this was something more than just casually dating someone you didn’t know.

“Well, she’ll fly in next Thursday and will be at the gallery for my exhibit on Friday, so you can meet her then.” You’re giddy at the thought of your Mom meeting Dieter, having spent so many hours on the phone with her talking about him. 

His face morphs into a look of panic at the mention of your gallery showing, deciding that now would be the perfect time to tell you the thing that’s been weighing on him the last few days. 

“What?”

“Poppy, about your showing. I got a call the other morning— they bumped up pre-production and I’ll be leaving sooner than originally planned.”

“When do you leave?”

“This Monday. I’ve been trying to figure things out, find some way to still be able to make it, but they aren’t really working with me— as of now, it’s looking like I’m going to miss it.” Now that it’s out in the open, he doesn’t feel any better now that you know, he knows how much this means to you and wants to be there for you. 

“Dieter— hey, it’s okay!” 

You can see the anguish looming over him, hating that he was nervous to tell you. 

“You’re not upset with me?”

“No! Why would I be upset? I mean, sure I’m a little bummed out, but this job is important to you.”

“But your art is just as important.”

“I appreciate you thinking that, but there will be others I’m sure. Maybe not at that gallery, but I’m sure I’ll find another place and I’ll convince them to let me show off my work there too.” 

“Thank you, for being understanding.”

“Of course, Dieter… You’ll just have to make it up to me in other ways I guess.” 

As the date progressed, you’re both completely satiated, barely able to take a single taste of the dessert you had ordered. 

Dieter shared more about his love for acting growing up, fun stories from movie sets and his favorite roles to date— you didn’t want him to stop sharing, the way his eyes lit up you could tell how passionate he was about his work, it made you fall for him even more. 

“Does it still make you happy?” You ask him, your elbow propped up on the table, hand under your chin, the answer seemed so obvious to you but you wanted to hear him say it. 

He laughs at your question, leaning against the chair back, taking a minute to collect his thoughts. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Driving Birdie to school one morning, she asked me the same question. Just funny I’m being asked again after being here for a few months now.” He explains, rolling the edge of his napkin between his fingers, knowing you’re going to want him to answer it truthfully. 

“Is your answer still the same?” 

“Well, Birdie said I need to listen to my heart.”

“And what does your heart say now?” You ask as you lean forward, pressing your palm over his chest, feeling the steady strum of his heart as he looks at you with the most loving gaze. 

Adjusting himself forward in his seat, angling his body closer to you, wrapping his large hand over yours and pressing them both close to his chest, the up turn of his lopsided grin slowly growing. 

“It says that I am happy. Happy to be alive and sober. Happy to be home— making up for lost time with Diem and Wren. Happy to have this opportunity to discover the joy I have for a simpler life. And more importantly, it says I am happy to have you.” 

Tears began to shimmer in your eyes, hearing him say how happy he was, was an indescribable feeling— he was so deserving of not only happiness, but love and you were so grateful he was feeling it. 

“I love you, Dieter.” Trying to sniffle back your tears, your hand cradles the back of his head, closing the gap between you as his lips settle against yours. 

He can taste the few tears that do manage to escape, their wet briney sweetness coating the ardent kiss. 

“I love you so much, Poppy.” 

*

The ride home was a comfortable silence, no real need for conversation, just being in the presence of each was enough for the drive back to your place. 

It was peaceful— your hand resting on his leg, your gaze focused on the way the houses and trees blurred together in passing. 

“What are you smiling about over there?” Catching the slight grin on your face as you look out the window, wanting to know what thoughts were the cause for it. 

You hum in response, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as your mind replays a loop of the entire evening thus far. 

“I had fun tonight— thank you.” Your head still resting against the seat, watching the way Dieter’s hands grip around the steering wheel, the muscles of his neck taut and flexed as he checks the mirrors. 

Acutely aware of the dampness that’s been lingering between your legs all evening, watching him right now you can feel your arousal beginning to pool and slowly drip down your thighs— grateful for your dress acting as a barrier between you and the car’s leather seats. 

The car jerks slightly as Dieter pulls it into your driveway, shifting into park and killing the engine, turning his attention to you, mirroring your position. 

“I had a great time too. Pretty sure I earned myself a second date, maybe even a little kiss goodnight.” 

His enthusiasm and lack of humbleness about his odds have you reeling, but it's his signature wink that hits you like a freight train that has you moving before your brain can register what’s happening. 

“I think you earned yourself a little more than that.” Your words are honeyed and laced in a seductive sugariness. 

A dual clicking, triggers the release of your seat-buckles, the snap back of the retracting belts reverberates through the car. 

A soft sliding of fabric against an oiled leather seat merely tickles your ears, trying to shift your body upward, your knee finally finding purchase to hold steady. 

A myriad of soft sounds expelled from Dieter’s side of the car. The rigid unzipping of his pants. The shuffling and pulling of excessive fabrics. A string of mumbled fuckshitohgodpoppyplease tumble from Dieter’s mouth as he watches the way your hand works itself over his hard cock. 

He’s putty in your hands, breathing ragged and tight with each swipe of your thumb over the head of his shaft. Gathering every glassy drop of pre-cum to help your hand slide effortlessly, pausing at the base of his cock for a moment— your firm grip producing another string of sounds from Dieter, mostly heady opaque moans. 

“Pop-Poppy! fuckfuckfuck! I-hnnnngh!! I’m gonna come if you— shit! If you keep that up!” 

“That’s the point Babe, I want you to feel good. Show my boyfriend how much he means to me.”

You can feel the way he tenses in pleasure at you calling him your boyfriend, the way he throbs in your hand as you resume your movements. 

“I’m going to miss you so much Dieter. Miss your stupid handsome face while you’re out doing what you love most. Letting everyone see how amazing and perfect you are.“ Your soft voice fanning across his ear. 

“N-no Poppy— You- fuck! I love you, the most.” His jaw is tight as he grits out his words. 

“I love you Dieter. It’s okay, let go— for me.” 

And he does. 

Warm spurts of cum coat the top of your hand and his dark navy button down shirt—  a painting of white Rorschach blots of arousal. 

“I’m going to miss you too, Poppy.” He manages to say, his throat raspy and dry. 

You find yourself flush against your front door, purse dangling from your arm, intoxicated by the way Dieter is kissing you fervently. 

“Dieter, babe! My feet are killin’ me! I’ve got to get these shoes off asap!” Taking a moment to catch your breath and search for your keys. 

Sifting through the mess of your purse, you miss Dieter kneeling down, his hand cupping the back of your calf as he attempts to undo the strap of your heels with the other, it doesn’t take long for you to feel your shoe being removed, the pressure instantly dissipating. His hands begin to work at your other shoe when you find your ring of keys, relief again as he removes the shoe and gently places your bare foot on your tiled porch. 

“God, that feels so much better! Thank— ah! Dieter!” 

Your skin feels soft under his touch, dropping a few kisses up the length of your exposed leg, stopping when he gets to the peak of your dress's slit, looking up at you to see nothing but want swimming in your eyes. 

He presses his hands on your hips, shifting  the fabric of your dress just enough so the slit allows him access to your cunt. 

A few bold licks through your wet folds has your knees buckling, his grip on you tightening to keep you from slipping, you’re so keyed up already that you know this is going to be a quick completion. 

But Dieter takes his time with you, and it’s worth it the minute your orgasm hits— a mixture of tingling excitement and hot lips between your legs. 

Your head lulls back against the door, as you wait for the sensation to come back to your legs. 

Dieter standing to his full height, shifting your dress back to its proper position. 

“I’ll have you know, I’m a dessert anytime kinda guy.” Devilishly smirking,  his lips damp with your arousal as he presses them to yours. 

“Stay. I’m not ready for you to leave me yet. Stay the weekend with me, please.” 

You’re practically begging him, and he finds it incredibly hard to tell you no— but sees no reason why he should. 

“I’m yours, Poppy. Show me where the bedroom is.”

[beefrobeefcal]

Beefro's Monthly Fic Prompt Challenge | Beefro's 1st Birthday Celebration Beefro's Test Kitchen

Smut: 🚩 Humor: 🎉 Sad: 🫂

Series:

There are other fish in the sea: (Frankie x f!reader/Ezra x f!reader) 🚩🫂 An alternate ending to All Pent Up & Nowhere to Go

On the Waterfront (dark!Frankie 'Big Fish' Morales & f!reader) 🚩

Dreamers (Frankie Morales x f!reader | soulmate au)

Anthology Series:

the BEEF: an anthology series Masterlist 🚩🎉

One offs:

Ezra Goes to Church - for @toxicanonymity's Manspread Olympics 🎉

Like a Cigar (Max Phillips x menstruating!f!reader) 🚩🎉

Flip the Switch (CEO!Joel Miller x f!reader) 🚩

DEEZ NUTZ (Dieter x f!actress reader - @happypedrohours fic prompt) 🚩🎉

KEPT (Javi x f!sugar baby reader - for @noxturnalpascal) 🚩

Purpose. (Jackson!Joel Miller - for @perotovar's Frith Celebration) 🫂

Married Joel Sits on You (Joel Miller & f!reader) - for my own Married Joel Sits on You challenge 🎉

what the hell is wrong with tim (Tim Rockford x f!cop reader - sex pollen) 🚩🎉

Dave Made Me Believe (FBI!Dave York x f!reader) - for my own Dave York Made Me Believe challenge 🚩🎉

Malicious Compliance (Dieter Bravo x gn!reader) - for @perotovar 🎉

For the Stars (Dieter Bravo) - for @bitchesuntitled Get Dieter Sober Event🫂

Colosseum Capers (Dieter Bravo x Din Djarin x f!reader) - for my THE GLANDOLORIAN challenge 🚩🎉

Grandpa Joel & the 1994 Ford Aerostar Minivan (Joel Miller x f!reader - age gap) for @ace-turned-confused 🚩🎉

Alone Together (Dieter Bravo x f!reder) for @rulexofxnines 🫂

Home from the Holidays (Joel Miller x f!reader) for @studioghibelli 🚩

Don't see what you're looking for? Check the archives!

[joelslegalwhre]

@syd-djarin my beautiful wifey needed more Dieter fics and what my bbygirl wants she gets🩷😌

If you decide to read a fic (any fic) don't forget to leave the author a reblog or comment! Supporting the creators is so important, show them all your love!!💖

Closer than expected - Dieter Bravo/Fem!Reader by @ghostofskywalker

Bouquet , Bloom & Blossom - dieter bravo x camgirl!reader by @mypoisonedvine

Accidentally Mrs Bravo - Dieter Bravo x F!Reader by @absurdthirst

(Met) in the restroom - Dieter Bravo x f!reader by @l0ngschl0ngking

Rendezvous in Reno - Dieter Bravo x Erotica Writer!(F)Reader by @theywhowriteandknowthings

Starstruck series - dieter bravo x f!reader by @ezrasbirdie

An unconventional arrangement - Dieter Bravo x F!Reader by @absurdthirst

Daddy Dieter - Dieter Bravo x F!Reader by @absurdthirst

The New Girl In Tinseltown (Chapter 1) - Dieter Bravo x Actress! Reader PR Marriage AU by @chiriwritesstuff

For Her Pleasure - Dieter Bravo x AFAB reader by @magpiepills

cool girl - Dieter Bravo x f!reader by @ezrasbirdie

star boy - dieter bravo x f!reader (peach) by @ezrasbirdie

In His Bed - Dieter Bravo x gn!Reader by @sneetsnootyoit

please feel free to share your favorite Dieter fics!!!🩷

this is my second attempt to post this bc Tumblr hates me today and deleted my finished draft the first time :')

[campingwiththecharmings]

*These weren’t necessarily written and/or posted in May, but that’s when I read them 😊

🔥 - explicit/mature content

Star Wars

You Are in Love (Modern!Poe Dameron x Reader) - @alwritey-aphrodite (yes i am reccing this again. i will be reccing this until it's finished, dill with it)

Running to You, This Feels Like Good News, & Maybe I'll Get Drunk Again (Poe Dameron x F!Solo!Reader) - @dailyreverie

Gardens of Babylon (Cowboy!Din Djarin x Cowgirl!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Deft Hands (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

Offer (Din Djarin x Reader) - @softlyspector

The Two Faces of January

🔥Oxford Comma, Boyfriend, Girlfriend, & Arty Boy (Rydal Keener x F!Reader) - @whatthefishh

Triple Frontier

🔥Worth the Risk (bfd!Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor (second part)

🔥Family Vacation (bfd!Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥A Brilliant Idea (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Distractions (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @princessxkenobi

🔥Relief (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @princessxkenobi

🔥Dusk Till Dawn (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @be-the-spark-flyboy

🔥Belonging (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Moon Knight

🔥Steven's First (Virgin!Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Gone Soft: Marc Spector Edition (Marc Spector x Reader) - @romanarose

Merry, Happy III (Jake Lockley x Muslim!Reader) - @whatthefishh

Neck Kisses (Steven Grant x Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥C*ck Therapy (Therapist!Steven Grant x Patient!Camgirl!Reader) - @whatthefishh

Bordeaux (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @sweetly-yours-and-mine

🔥Dirty Driving (Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Drinking with Cupid (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @moonknightly

🔥Making Trouble (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @juneknight

🔥Colorblind (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @astroboots

In the Eyes (Marc Spector x Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

All That Matters (Jake Lockley x Reader, references to Marc Spector x Reader) - @midgardian-witch

The Dress (Marc Spector x Reader) - @sweetly-yours-and-mine

🔥The Pavlovian Response (Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @missdictatorme

🔥Extra Credit (Professor!Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Pillow Talk (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Just Happy Accidents (Jake Lockley x Reader) - @romanarose

The Last of Us

🔥Old Soul (Joel Miller x F!Reader) - @softlyspector

🔥Falling into Place (Joel Miller x F!Reader) - @jake-g-lockley

🔥Games (Bodyguard!Joel x Actress!Reader) & 🔥High Enough (Ft. Dieter Bravo) - @psychedelic-ink

Waffle House Confessions (Joel Miller x F!Reader) - @softlyspector

🔥Lost in the Darkness (Joel Miller x F!Reader - Mafia AU) - @softlyspector

The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent

Darklight (Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader) - @psychedelic-ink

Inside Llewyn Davis

Intoxicated (Llewyn Davis x Reader) - @eyelessfaces

Sucker Punch

🔥A Long Night (Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Narcos

🔥Just Friends (Javier Peña x F!Reader) - @pedgeitopascal

The Sun Also Rises (Javier Peña x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch (second part)

Thank you to all the wonderful writers for sharing their stories with us 🥰❤️

*For more recs, please feel free to check out my fic rec tag.

**If you’d like to have your fic removed from the list, I completely understand, just let me know

[aurorawritestoescape]

The Devil in Me

Pairing: DEVIL!Dieter Bravo x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Genre: smut and fluff, Devil AU

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, porn with almost no plot, allusions to sa, reader struggles with self worth, praise kink, breast play, thigh riding, blood play, vampirism, unprotected piv, daddy kink, oral(f receiving), fucking the Devil, creampie, religious themes, men’s thighs)

Summary: being an aspiring actress but failing to succeed, you decide to use an unorthodox method to get the desirable money and fame. You perform a summoning ritual in order to sell your soul to the Devil. Lucky for you, he pays you a visit and happens to be devilishly handsome.

Word count: 4,3k

A/n: the moment I saw Pedro’s Met Gala look, this thot was nailed into my brain. Hence the fic. Big thanks to @ozarkthedog for giving me a necessary push with this post. English is my second language, sorry for any mistakes or general fuckupery of the story;) <3

As long as you remembered, your only wish was to become a famous movie star with millions of fans who worshiped you. So you took various and fucking expensive acting classes, went to dozens of auditions where you acted your heart out. And still every time another nepo baby got the job of your dreams. You felt bitter as hell. You couldn’t bear the rejection, the harassment, slimy hands and hungry glances of producers and agents. Under the pretences of helping you, they hunted for your body like predators and gave nothing in return. The debts were pilling up, and waiting tables at a lousy café didn’t promise you any financial stability. You kept jumping high but still couldn’t grab that lucky ticket in the air. 

So when, at a flea market, you happened to see an old spell book, it immediately piqued your interest. You looked through the pages and noticed a ritual called "Summoning the Devil to Sell Your Soul." You laughed at first but, to your own surprise, paid for the book and brought it home. It was on a whim. You didn’t believe any of that hocus-pocus shit, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

…..

You were in your rented one-bedroom apartment, sitting on the bed and reading about the preparation for the summoning. You let out a laugh. It was so easy. Make the room dark. Light some candles. Say the spell. And voilà! The Devil himself would appear and give you everything you wished for in return for your  precious soul. You didn’t think much of it. 100% that it wouldn’t happen. But if by some crazy magical supernatural chance it did, you’d be ready. Your soul had been torn to shreds by disgusting and power-hungry men, so you’d be happy to replace it with the long awaited fame and money. 

You followed the simple instructions: drew the curtains to keep the light of the sunset out and lit all the candles you could find at home. You looked around and found the atmosphere quite relaxing. The air was heavy with a sickly mixture of scents - vanilla, pine, strawberry. Yet it was hiding the greasy smell of the Chinese you’d had before. The candlelight bathed the room in a golden light, its flickering flames making shadows dance on the walls. You plopped down on your bed and placed the spell book on your lap. At the back of your mind, you were laughing at yourself for being such a fool. But to an outside eye you’d have seemed serious and focused. Your lips silently moved, reading the spell several times. Then you cleared your throat with a cough, said "Fuck it!" and read the spell loudly.

….

Nothing happened. You were still alone in your shitty room, shitty apartment, living your shitty life. It wasn’t a surprise. You sighed heavily, closed the book with a thump and threw it on the floor. You climbed on your bed, got under the covers and buried your head in the pillow. Disappointment was gnawing at your gut. How could you hope that ridiculous summoning spell would work? You shut your eyes, feeling the tears fall on the pillow beneath you. 

You didn’t know how much time passed. You were in that trippy state between wakefulness and sleep. Then your whole body twitched and chills covered your skin. You weren’t cold, quite hot actually because of all the candles. All of a sudden, you felt the weight on the other side of the mattress. You turned rapidly and saw a man sitting next to you on the bed. His back was leaning on the headboard and his legs were stretched out and crossed at the feet. You jumped out of the bed with a scream and stared at him paralyzed with fear, eyes round and breath unsteady. In contrast with your own reaction, he seemed relaxed. His dark intent eyes had a humorous spark in them, looking at you with amusement, his plump lips were curled up in a smirk. His skin was tan, the colour of caramel and rich honey. He had an aquiline nose, a salt and pepper patchy beard and a moustache. His dark hair was neatly slicked back. He was, without a doubt, the most handsome man you’d ever seen. But the most peculiar thing about him was his attire. He had a bright red coat with a red shirt underneath and a thin black tie. You glanced down to see that he was wearing black shorts which were covering little of his thick thighs. On his feet, he had black high patent boots with black socks peeking out. 

His smirk was replaced by a blinding grin and you heard his deep comforting voice. 

“Hi, darling,” he said, rolling R with his tongue, making the word sound delicious. 

“Wh...who the fuck are you?! Why are you in my apartment?!” you exclaimed in a panic, wrapping your arms around your middle. 

The stranger’s smile fell, and he looked at you with sad puppy eyes and furrowed brows as if you’d slapped him on the face. 

“You summoned me, remember?”

You couldn’t believe your eyes or your ears. With your voice lowered to a whisper, you asked him as if somebody could hear your secret, “Are you the Devil?”

His wide smile returned, making the wrinkles around his eyes more pronounced. He opened his arms to present himself to you and announced enthusiastically, “Yes, I am! The one and only King of Hell, darling!”

 You were speechless.  What do people say in these situations? Would you like a drink, Satan? Why are you in shorts? It was crazy. So you kept standing there with an open mouth and widened eyes. 

Noticing your confusion, the Devil sat up, bent his right leg and started scratching his knee. “I understand your shock and all, but I’m a busy man, you see. People desire a lot of things these days. Thank God for consumerism,” he added, putting his hands together in a prayer and looking up. “Do you still want to sell your soul?” the Devil inquired as he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

You closed your mouth and opened it again. “Yes! But to be honest, I didn’t expect the spell to work …and you look like this…it’s a lot,” you explained to him while fumbling with the hem of your t-shirt.

At that, the Devil’s face fell, and he looked down at himself straightening his coat and shirt.

“What’s wrong with the way I look? …wanted to try something new. And I’ve been told that it’s very stylish,” he retorted, glancing at you sideways.

In truth, you loved the clothes and the boots, but his childish reaction amused you and, feeling a little bolder, you decided to tease him.

“Been told by who exactly?” you smirked at him. “Demons,” he replied with his plush lips in a pout.

“Ha! They’re telling you what you wanna hear. They’re kinda your employees.” You crossed your arms and continued your taunting, “And this lip ring. What’s that for?”

The Devil sucked in his lower lip, touching the ring with his tongue and replied, “It makes me look edgy”. You raised your eyebrows at him, “Why do you need more edge, man? You’re the fucking Devil!” Oh, you enjoyed it. At hearing that he shrugged, growled, took off the lip ring and tossed it in the direction of your wardrobe. He then stared at you with narrowed eyes, as if trying to burn a hole in your face. You almost burst into giggles, seeing him like that. The big bad Devil got bullied by a human girl.

By the look of you he must have realised that you‘d been playing with him and his grin returned to his face.

“Haha, very funny,” he said sarcastically and leaned his back on the headboard again. “Let’s talk terms and conditions then, style expert. You give me your soul, I give you what you desire. What is it you desire, darling?” he added with a luscious smile.

The endearment made you blush. You cleared your throat and replied that you wanted to be a famous actress. He nodded and waved his hand as if brushing away your concerns. 

“No problem! You will be, beautiful! We just need to make the deal, and you’ll be the happiest and wealthiest star till the day you die. You’ll live for many wonderful years, but when the time comes I’ll see you in Hell” he explained with excitement on his face. You were aware of that condition but hearing out loud about the prospect of burning in Hell for eternity made you drop your head in doubt, a surge of nerves making you pace the floor along the bed.

Seeing your unease, the Devil crawled to the side of the bed you had previously occupied and sat there with his feet on the floor. You took a step back and looked at him as your fear returned. He was the Devil after all. His exposed legs were spread widely, almost touching yours. His long coat was laying on the bed like a crimson cover. 

He took your hand and placed it between his big, hot palms. To your surprise, the physical touch made your core tingle and the heart skip a beat. 

“You know what, if you aren’t sure, I won’t pressure you. You can go through some more auditions, do a couple of tampon commercials and may be one day your fame will find you.”

“No!” you exclaimed, almost startling yourself. You knew what he was doing, painting your dream impossible to achieve on your own, but the desire to make it big was so strong, all you needed was the smallest push. “I  can’t live like this any longer. I want it here and now.” 

Then adoration and content blossomed on his face and your chest swelled. 

“That’s wonderful,” he purred. “Now we need to do the deed, and it’s done.”

You swallowed loudly. “The deed? Mmm… As in ‘to have sex’?” 

His gaze drifted lower, taking in your form in front of him, and he responded in a husky voice, “You shall give yourself to me completely and fully, and then you’ll be mine forever.”

Of course. Men in power always wanted a piece of you, why would the Devil himself be different? But in a weird way, you trusted Him more than anyone else to make your wish come true, and so you whispered “O… ok.”

His whole demeanour changed in a flash. His face darkened, previously adoring eyes got flooded with lust and desire, the soft smile morphed into a hungry animalistic grin. 

It scared you. You glanced down at yourself, suddenly aware of your old almost see-through t-shirt and sleeping shorts covering not much of your body. You’d felt too comfortable with him before, in part forgetting who it was in front of you. At that moment, the air grew hotter and heavier. The candle flames began trembling rapidly without any breeze and the whole room got darker, resembling a crypt. The Devil’s red coat and shirt looked maroon. 

He still had your hand in his palms and gently pulled you closer to him. You were all the way between his legs and the Devil moved his right leg, slid the knee between your legs, placed his hands on your waist and pushed you down, so you could straddle his right thigh. You grasped his shoulders to stable yourself. He wasn’t smiling anymore, his expression was determined and lustful. His plush lips found your neck and you whimpered. The Devil smelled like smoke and your eyes watered a little. He started leaving open mouth kisses on your neck, making your eyes close. Your chest was flush against his broad shoulder, and you were sure he could sense your heart fluttering. 

“I promise to give you everything you desire, darling. But before that I’ll  make you feel devilishly good,” he whispered, nipping on your earlobe. “Do you agree?”

You nodded, but he needed to hear it.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes,” you replied, and a peculiar feeling rushed through your body. Your eyes darted down and you gasped, finding yourself completely naked. Your clothes just vanished. His lips left your neck, and he was leering down at you, devouring your form. “Fuck…you’re gorgeous.” The praise made your head spin and your core tingle. Chills covered your whole body and you shivered.

“All trembling for me,” he murmured. “Such a good girl.”

His hands snaked down to your ass, palming your cheeks and pushing you closer to his torso. Your clit rubbed on the material of his shorts and a quiet moan escaped your lips. The devil grumbled, hearing the sounds you made for him. You felt his huge bulge pushing into your thigh. He lowered his head, reaching your breast with his mouth, and started to lick and suck on your bud.

“Delicious little thing,” the Devil cooed at you between his ministrations. You needed more, so you began grinding on his thigh at a steady pace whimpering softly. Your movements made the hem of his shorts rise up, and you felt his bare leg with your cunt. You were so wet, making a mess of his shorts and thigh. You’d never been so aroused before, and the need for a release was overwhelming. Soon your body and forehead were covered in beads of sweat, your legs trembling from exhaustion. He was guiding you with his strong hands gripping your hips and kissing you wherever he could reach. Your clit was throbbing, and soon you felt your core tighten and the burning in your stomach increase.

“Fuck! m'go… gonna cum!” you moaned through heavy breathing. 

“Yes, cum for the Devil, baby!” he ordered and slapped your ass cheek, leaving a slight burn. Your head fell back, the spine arched, and a hard orgasm shook your whole body. The strength left you, so he continued moving your body, helping you to ride it out. When overstimulation hit, you fell on his chest. You put your forehead on his shoulder, as aftershocks shook you from time to time. 

“No rest for the wicked,” he said, and suddenly took your exhausted body in his arms bridal style, and plopped you on the bed carelessly. 

You got a whiplash from the rapid change of position. You were on your back, and the Devil climbed on top of you, straddling your thighs. The tail of his coat was covering your feet. You couldn’t help but gawk at him. A strand of hair fell on his forehead. His broad and tall frame was towering over you, and his looming shadow covered almost all the room. It made you feel tiny and powerless under him. One moment you could swear his shadow had horns and giant wings, but you blinked, and it was normal again. The devil was leering at you with hungry obsidian eyes and, feeling exposed, you tried to cover your chest with your hands. But by some invisible force, your hands were yanked over your head and held there tightly. As if being touch starved, the Devil began kneading your soft breasts. He twitched one nipple hard, making you scream, but the pain was replaced by pleasure when he put his mouth on the burning bud and circled his tongue around it. He wasn’t rushing it, sucking on each breast for a long time until you couldn’t take it anymore. Overstimulation made you squirm and rub your thighs together, as your cunt was crying for attention.

Happy with his work, the Devil set up again, admiring your abused puffy nipples.

“Daddy’s thirsty, baby. Will you help me out?” You bit your bottom lip when you heard what he’d called himself. It was so twisted and your stomach was overflowing with desire for him. 

But the question confused you. As if to give you an answer, he placed his hand on your belly and, following his gaze, you noticed long, sharp claws on his fingers. You were sure they hadn’t been there before. You swallowed loudly and squeaked, “Don’t hurt me, please”

His grin widened as he cooed at you, “Don’t worry, darling. You won’t feel a thing."

The Devil pressed his index finger below your belly button and made a vertical cut with his pointy claw. You gasped, although the pain was bearable, just a little sting. You saw drops of blood appear, and his eyes sparkled. He dropped his head to your belly and licked the blood, moaning avidly. He made a few other cuts and cleaned them with his mouth. Though a bit scared you enjoyed feeling his tongue just inches above your cunt. You desperately wished he would move lower. When he was satiated, his head fell on your stomach, and he caressed your thighs and legs with his now both normal hands, humming quietly. A strange wave of affection took over you. You asked him if he could free your hands. He looked up at you with an air of confusion in his heavy-lidded eyes. It seemed that he’d forgotten having tied you up at all.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” he replied finally in a hoarse voice. When your arms could move, you began combing his soft silky hair with your fingers and gently scratching his scalp. The Devil purred. He was still rubbing your thighs so you knew he didn’t fall asleep.

“Are you ok?” you finally inquired as if you were just talking to your lover.

“No one ever asks me that,” the Devil replied as he looked up. He gave you a sleepy smile and still seemed to be drunk on your blood.

You were awestruck, thinking how much he was like a human man, aside from the claws and the blood thirst. You wondered if he was lonely but didn’t want to break the comfortable silence.

After a few minutes he sat up and you noticed that all the cuts on your belly disappeared. The lustful expression returned to his face once again.

"Thank you, darling. You tasted divine,” he whispered as he climbed between your legs. “Would you like me to fuck you now?” he asked, leering at your spread cunt and gently tracing your slick folds with his finger. 

“Yes!” You said louder than it was intended. 

“Then beg for it, baby! Pray to your Devil!” he ordered with a mischievous smirk. Your cunt couldn’t bear another second without his attention. “Please! I beg you, fuck me please! Make me cum!”

Your words seemed to satisfy him. 

“Oh, I’d be happy to. Lie down and enjoy yourself. Daddy’ll take care of you.” Then you felt two thick fingers enter you. You moaned, arching your back and your fingers grasped the covers. His digits were thick, but you’d been dripping on the bed for a long time, so he entered you easily. 

“So tight, darling. We need to work you open first to receive the Devil’s cock in all its glory.”

He was pumping his fingers in and out, curling them inside and pulling the filthiest sounds out of you. Then you felt his hot mouth on your cunt. He was lapping at your juices, swirling his tongue on your hardened clit and working his fingers. Soon he added the third and the fourth digit and fucked you steadily.  You never expected to stretch that much, but you guessed everything was possible with the Devil. He seemed to enjoy eating you out as much as you did, as he growled into your cunt, the vibrations taking your pleasure to the highest level. 

“Such a nasty girl, giving your soul and pussy to me,” he said, leaving your cunt for a second and licking his lips.

You whimpered at the sight. He was turning you on even more than you could imagine. Soon, his and your moans created a sinful harmony together

“God!” you cried out and he slapped your cunt with his free hand. “Devil, baby, not God!” The pain mixed with pleasure sent electricity through your core and another orgasm hit you. You gushed all over his hand and lower face and he drank you up like it was the tastiest nectar. Finally, you pushed your legs together to stop him from licking you. 

“Now you’re ready for my cock”, he said, sitting up, then grabbed your hips and span you on your stomach. Your face hit the pillows, and your body felt cold as the covers were soaked with your sweat and juices. 

“Elbows and knees, baby,” he ordered. The motion was so rapid you needed a moment to obey, but he impatiently yanked your hips in the air with his big hands.

You heard the rustling of his clothes and then his cock landed on your ass. By the weight of it, it was huge. You turned your head to get a peek and saw his enormous erect member with red angry tip leaking precum on your ass cheek. You got nervous, and he smirked at that. 

"Don’t fear, my dear. I’ll be gentle." 

That was a lie. One moment you felt his tip at your entrance, and in the other he plunged his hard length into you to the bottom. You yelped, suddenly feeling full to the brim. 

“Mmm, such a greedy pussy. Sucking daddy in so well.”

His first push made your front slide forward on the bed, so his arm circled your middle to keep you still, the other hand pushed between your shoulder blades, making your spine arch even more. He started fucking you with strong and deliberate thrusts, and the bliss in your core made your eyes roll back. Loud moans were leaving your open mouth as you were drooling on the pillow. You could sense every vein of his thick cock, and his tip was pushing at your cervix, causing a delicious ache. 

“You gonna come again, baby”, he said and it wasn’t a question. “I can feel you squeezing me. Let daddy help a little”.

Suddenly you felt pressure on your clit. You looked down but didn’t see his hands as they were still holding you in place. The invisible force returned and began circling your bundle of nerves in tight strokes and gently twitching your nipples. You didn’t need much time to reach the third orgasm. Every nerve was electrified, making your limbs and torso shake uncontrollably. Your cunt was flattering around the Devil’s cock and that made him growl, “Yes, that’s my girl.”

The invisible hands left your body as soon as the muscle strength left you. If not for him holding you by the waist, you would have plopped down on the bed. His pace increased and the slapping of his hips on your ass was getting faster. At last, he started cumming. You felt his cock pulsate inside your channel, filling you with his hot seed. He was pumping his cum and your juices back into you vigorously accompanied by lewd sounds and his snarls. Some time passed and he was still going. You were completely spent, and your eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. When he finally stilled and pulled out, he lowered your hips gently and laid down next to you. You felt his cum leaking out of your hole.

Then the Devil took you in his arms, so you could rest your head on his chest, and he covered your legs and ass with his coat to keep you warm. 

He pinched your chin with his fingers and tilted your head up to face him. You were looking at each other with gratitude and satisfaction. His dark eyes were trailing the lines of your features as if they were constellations in the sky. Your breath was once again stolen by his beauty.

Then the Devil kissed you. His plush lips were first gentle, but when his tongue slipped inside your mouth, he tightened his arms around you and kissed you hard. He tasted like something sweet and spicy. You were glued to each other for a long time, and you purred in his arms. It was a parting gift and at the same time the kiss sealed your destiny. When the Devil’s lips left yours, you whined. He smiled at your greediness.

“Before you go to sleep, we need to sign the contract, darling”. You followed his eyes and saw that he was holding a big parchment. 

“Let me help you, baby.” He took your hand and put your index finger in his mouth. A sting made you wince. He pulled it out and pressed your fingertip onto the paper. It left a crimson mark on the contract.

“That’s it. Now you are mine forever,” he explained with a soft smile and licked your finger making the bite mark disappear.

You furrowed your brows looking up at him, grabbed his tie and tugged him closer to your face.

“Wait. You told me that we just needed to fuck to seal the deal. Was it even necessary?”

He chuckled and then whispered in your ear “Well darling. You’re so stunning. How could I not? You should’ve known better than to trust the Devil.

You giggled and pushed your face into his neck. He still smelled like smoke, and you thought that it was your favourite smell in the world. You closed your eyes and soon drifted off to sleep. 

When you woke up, the bed next to you was empty, the candles had burnt out and the morning sun was peeking through the curtains. You sat up and wondered if it all might have been a dream. The contract, the Devil and the best sex of your life.

But the next moment your phone buzzed with a call and, when you picked it up, your whole life changed. 

😈

Thank you for reading! <3

Comments and reblogs are appreciated💋

Part 2

[quinnnfabrgay-writes]

wip wednesday

thank you so much for the tag @almostfoxglove 🥰

my period came a week early and has drained me of all my energy, but i am slowly and painstakingly making progress on a few things

since my mood swings have been all over the place, here are a few different pieces that are also all over the place lol (you can all blame @sp00kymulderr for the dieter obsession 🫣 he has quite literally taken over all my thots)

what it means to burn - dieter x actress!reader

“You deserve it more than anyone I know.” He drops one of your hands to softly cup your chin, his thumb brushing across your skin. “Mi estrella brillante.”

Your stomach drops as you try to remind yourself it’s nothing more than a friendly gesture. But Dieter apparently wasn't finished tormenting your lovesick soul. Before you have time to comprehend what's happening, he leans forward and drops his lips to your forehead, your chin still in his hand.

It had to have been only a brief few seconds, but to you that moment was frozen in time.

untitled dieter non-con piece - dieter x f!reader

you notice the corners of his mouth tick up slightly, a low chuckle vibrating from his throat, before he grabs a couple of pills from a bag in the pile. he stands, making his way to the mini fridge, grabbing a cold bottle of water before turning and heading towards you. he holds out both the pills and water for you to take, confusion getting the better of you

“oh, that's sweet of you, but i was just going to take them at my place”

Dieter shakes his head slightly, “‘fraid i can't let you do that, can't take this shit unsupervised, i wouldn't feel right letting you go off on your own.”

“oh, u-um, do you have anything i could just take home with me then?” it's not that you don't trust him, but you can't ignore this feeling starting to take form in the pit of your stomach, a heavy weight triggering your fight or flight - unfortunately you were always one to freeze and fawn

no misbehavin' - sub!dieter x mommy domme!reader

He has a strong feeling that it's just you trying to respect that he's had a very grueling couple of weeks full of non-stop interviews, photo shoots, table reads, costume fittings, the list goes on. At first he was grateful you were more gentle with him, more sensual and comforting without him having to ask. But now there's this irritating, itchy feeling burning beneath his skin, begging to be scratched– or bit, or paddled, or whipped, or flogged– soothing his nerves in the way only you can.

He has a feeling you could tell he needed more from you tonight, that had to be why you finally started toying with him again– making him wear a cock ring and a plug, edging him all night, bringing him up to the precipice of pleasure with your hands, your tits, your mouth only to pull back at the last second, bringing him back down.

The Last Five Years - dieter x ofc Sawyer

This is it. It’s actually over. He finally took deliberate action in their relationship, and this is what he’s decided on. Sawyer sits at the dining table, slouched back in her seat, eyes glazed over with unshed tears as she stares at the current source of her despair: divorce papers already signed and initialed by her husband, soon-to-be ex-husband, Dieter Bravo. The blank spot left for her signature taunts her every time her eyes scan the papers. Dieter’s decided it’s time to move on; he’s got new dreams he’s building upon.

And I’m still hurting.

(any "the last 5 year" fans in the pedro fandom??? i won't be posting this series until i have it at least half written, but surprise!)

npt: @perotovar @sp00kymulderr @guiltyasdave @bitchesuntitled @syd-djarin @djarins-cyare @covetyou @chronically-ghosted @ozarkthedog @for-a-longlongtime @sizzlingcloudmentality @whocaresstillthelouvre @crowandmousewritingco @ghostofaboy @max--phillips @yopossum