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mypoisonedvine · 2 years ago

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𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || being quarantined in his hotel room has dieter getting a little stir crazy, and when the drugs run out, he has to find a new vice. that's how he found you.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; phone/video call sex, use of toys, male and female masturbation), sex work (obviously, look at the title), dieter being down astronomically bad with a burgeoning housewife kink, basically nothing to do with the movie he's from whatsoever it's just porn with almost no plot

(my challenge for @the-slumberparty this week was to write a fic that has a bouquet of flowers somewhere in it! leave it to me to find a way to include that in something so insanely smutty...)

He couldn’t stop watching you—both right now, in this moment, and just generally.

Right now, he couldn’t take his eyes off the way your cunt slid up and down on the glass dildo, your walls gripping every ridge and detail of the toy, your arousal coating it and running in droplets down to the base.

And for the past two weeks, your videos had been his obsession. Maybe it technically qualified as a porn addiction—but it wasn’t just about that. He didn’t watch anyone else, and he didn’t even jerk off every time he watched one of your videos; sometimes he just liked hearing your voice, feeling less alone in quarantine in his hotel room.

Most people just put on sitcom reruns or the local news to make a hotel room feel less empty, but that didn’t work for Dieter. Maybe being an actor ruined the illusion of scripted TV for him—and as for the news, well, nobody would be comforted by the news these days.

So he turned to the only comfort he could rely on when all else failed: masturbation. But he didn’t like to do it without something to watch, and normally he would just find a video he liked and work with that, but something tempted him to try a cam site… and now he was never turning back.

You weren’t the first girl he saw, it took a little scrolling, but something about your channel caught his eye. It didn’t take even a full stream before he was addicted: you scratched every itch.

First of all, though he didn’t want to be too shallow, he couldn’t deny that your body was just his type. It felt like he could stare at you naked for hours and never get bored—and it drove him crazy that he couldn’t touch you, couldn’t turn you around and look at every inch of you. Instead he just had to lay back and let you show what you wanted; in a way, it was like a dominance thing—he was a victim to your whims, he could only get what you offered and that was it.

That said, you never left him wanting, that was the second thing he couldn’t resist about you. Your videos were… indulgent, maybe that’s the word he was looking for: it was so much more than just a girl rubbing herself in front of the camera and calling it a night. You spent a while talking with the viewers and reacting to comments, sometimes while undressing if you weren’t already naked; then, you upped the ante bit by bit, teasing yourself and him until it finally culminated in you bringing yourself to the peak over and over—until neither of you could take anymore. He wasn’t just satisfied after watching you, he was exhausted, in the best way.

And lastly, this one was probably just him projecting, but you seemed… sweet? Kinky, sure, but with something real about you—kinda that girl-next-door vibe. Maybe it was because you started some of your videos in normal clothes—not lingerie, not a sexy nurse outfit or whatever people are into these days—just a baggy band t-shirt and shorts or an old hoodie and pajama pants. It was hard not to imagine you as his girlfriend during those streams. Actually, once he let himself do it, he couldn’t stop—and it got him harder than anything else.

Perhaps Dieter had a bit of a reputation, and most would say he wasn’t very… sentimental with women. They wouldn’t be wrong, but they’d be misunderstanding him a bit. Truth be told, he was a pretty sensitive guy, and he’d always wanted a real relationship, it was just difficult with his career. Love is sort of like eating healthy: maybe you like to cook, maybe you like green beans and chicken breasts, but when a bag of potato chips is right there, you know what you’re probably gonna end up eating.

And Dieter really did go through ‘em like potato chips. It was easier that way. He got used to expressing his emotions through acting, and when emotions become your career, it’s a lot harder to be vulnerable for free.

Sometimes he wished he’d met you in person, somehow. (Then again, right now he was wishing he could meet anyone in person.) But if he’d met you in person, he would’ve probably just hit on you, convinced you to sleep with him, and then gone back to his same old habits—you would’ve just been another meaningless night. Instead he was trapped in this hotel, using his laptop like a window to the outside world, and you had become his vice. Even drugs couldn’t do for him what you could; the high you brought him was incomparable.

He told you just as much; sure, he felt like kind of a loser, but he started commenting on your streams hoping to get a reaction. I think I’m addicted to your videos. It was just one in a long string of adoring, horny comments that floated up alongside your video that day as you were casually touching yourself—one hand teasing your breast, pinching and circling the nipple, the other between your legs as you gently rubbed your clit. You hadn’t noticed his comment that time—or if you had, you didn’t say anything—but the next time, you saw it. You’d been using a vibe, taking it on and off your clit so you could edge yourself: that alone was a feat of self-discipline he couldn’t imagine. Can’t wait to see you cum, he’d written, too worked up himself to really wonder if it was clever or interesting.

You smiled, a little breathless laugh coming out more through your nose than your mouth. “Can’t wait to see you cum,” you repeated, “me either, buddy. Shit. Need to come so bad.”

Hearing you read his comment made him actually anxious—like an adrenaline rush, like when he was a kid and hadn’t gotten rid of his stage fright yet. You had such an effect on him; his heart was still racing when he finally came—he managed to wait until you did, only because he didn’t start jerking off until the last minute. Having to keep his throbbing dick out of his hand was an enormous task, but he knew that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop. And it was worth it, to come with you; he loved hearing your moans as you came, imagining how you’d sound if he was fucking you—imagining all his come painting your stomach or ass or even going inside you…

And now, right now, he was imagining that last thing—imagining filling you with his come. You rode that glass dildo beautifully, and when he moved his hand at just the right pace, he could watch and feel the way you would ride him.

“Mm, y’like that?” you moaned, looking back at the camera—damn, if you looked back at him like that while you were on his cock he’d be a fucking goner.

“Yeah,” he panted, in real life, because responding to you aloud was a bad habit when he was close to coming.

“Wanna come in me?” you encouraged, and he bit his lip as he nodded; he wanted to shut his eyes from the pleasure, but he couldn’t miss a second of you picking up the pace as you bounced on the toy. “Wanna fucking come inside me?”

“Yes, fuck, yes,” he panted out, starting to fuck up into his hand when your pace felt teasingly slow (even though it was already getting so much faster).

“C’mon baby, I want it—come in me, nice and deep,” you begged, voice getting shakier as your own orgasm neared. “Can you come with me? Please? Just fill me up right as you make me come—fuck, so good—”

“God, baby,” he whined, tightening up his stomach to try not to come instantly. Thankfully, he only had to hold out a few more seconds before he heard you start to make those undeniable moans: when you came, you were loud. He fucking loved that.

“Yes, yes!” you screamed, and he swore he could see the way your pussy squeezed that toy, he could see the shiver that ran up your spine—he’d give anything to feel that squeeze on his cock, to feel that shiver under his hands…

Come painted his hand, splattering onto his chest and thighs; if only he’d had the thought in advance to take his robe off entirely before he did this, now he was going to have to send some very shameful laundry to the front desk.

“Fuck, that was intense,” you laughed breathlessly as you started to recover. He could tell you were still a bit shaky as you lifted yourself off the dildo— and he winced, the last drop of come squeezing out of his slit, when he saw the way your pussy was left gaping for juuust a moment by the toy. Then one squeeze and it was like you were back to normal; she’s fucking incredible, he thought to himself, finally taking his hand off of his softening dick.

Panting, he felt the slightest tinge of shame in the back of his mind. Not just shame, actually, but loneliness: he watched you smile and turn to face the camera again, reading the slew of filthy praises in your comments, and he just wished it was the two of you— in real life, alone, holding each other…

But this was easier, this was so much easier. Being alone meant there was no one here to judge him, and that was worth having no one to wrap up in his arms in a time like this.

As he snagged a tissue from the bedside table to wipe himself off, he listened to you read and react to some comments. “Thanks, guys,” you beamed as you were overwhelmed with so hot and I just came so hard and you’re perfect. “You flatter me, stop it…”

He had to bite his lip when you started to play with your own tits, seemingly out of nowhere.

“They’re so sensitive after I come,” you explained with a giggle, then a moan as you pinched and teased the buds. “Have any of you ever tried that? Playing with your nipples?”

Dieter laughed as the comments poured in: what? that’s fucking gay all the way to I’m doing it right now for you my queen

“Oh god, has it been an hour already? I think I need to hop off, guys,” you announced.

Instantly the chat was flooded with pleas of don’t go!! and ten more minutes and how much do we tip for more time?

“If anybody wants to keep the conversation going, private chats are on sale on my page right now,” you explained with a friendly smile. “But if not I’ll see you tomorrow! Or, you’ll see me.”

With a flirty wave to the camera, the image froze and blurred; STREAM ENDED popped up on the screen. It was already trying to suggest other streamers live right now that he could watch, but Dieter only sighed and shut his laptop.

Seven seconds later, he opened it again.

“Private chats…” he mumbled to himself remembering what you said. He knew that you offered other services on your page, but something about you mentioning it this time got his attention. As he considered for a second if he should’ve washed his hands before touching the trackpad, he navigated to your page and looked at the menu of additional services for purchase. The list was long: private chats, as you’d mentioned; custom videos anywhere from 15 minutes to a concerningly-long two hours; a subscription to daily nude pictures, sent via Snapchat; even used panties available for shipping anywhere in the US and Canada.

He was originally just going to get a custom video, but as he scrolled through more options, he saw one-on-one video chat, and he got that feeling again—the adrenaline rush. It took him a second to even compose himself enough to read the description.

Do you hate having to share me with all the other viewers during my streams? I’d love to have some personal time to get to know you better, and do exactly what you’ve been dreaming of. You can use voice if that’s easier for you than text—top fans can even turn their camera on if they so desire.

A half-hour video chat was only $75— that sounded like a steal to Dieter right now— and they were available to book as soon as tomorrow. The idea made him feel all tingly and weird, but weird in a good way.

Top fans can even turn their camera on…

His constant engagement with your page for the last couple weeks had earned him the ‘top fan’ badge. When he imagined showing you his face, his body, he got unexpectedly anxious, though; he wasn’t a particularly shy guy, but this was a delicate issue. What if you recognized him? What if you were a fan? That would be weird— in a bad way.

Or what if you were a fan and you were overcome with the need to send him free videos, free pictures, even being willing to meet up with him sometime? That would be… convenient, certainly, in some ways; but the thought overwhelmed him, and he decided that if he was going to buy one of these chats, his camera would have to stay off. Just not worth the trouble.

He decided something else, too; a strange instinct, but one he was too deep in his post-orgasmic haze to resist. He wanted to send you a gift. Mostly, he hoped it would set him apart from other viewers— give you two something to talk about during that call. If he bought you a toy from your wishlist, maybe you could use it for the first time for him… that would be incredibly hot.

Or maybe he’d buy you something more normal, like a nice throw pillow for the bed you laid on for some of your videos… the domesticity of that certainly attracted him.

But then, he had a simpler idea. When in doubt while giving a gift to a woman, why not stick to the classics, right?

There was a P.O. Box for fanmail and gifts on your page, and he pulled up another tab to search: can you send flowers to a po box?

Just because he was a whore didn’t mean he wasn’t a romantic.

“I have to say, I get a lot of gifts… never gotten flowers before.”

His heart warmed to hear you say that— but it didn’t stop racing. This felt different: having you here, in only a t-shirt and panties as he’d seen you many times, but knowing it was just for him… he loved it, but it was a little scary. In a good way. “Do you like them?” he asked.

“Yeah!” you smiled, fiddling with the stems as the vase sat beside you. “Pink roses, lilies, orchids… you’re gonna spoil me, Hector.”

(Yes, he gave you his real name. Ironically, he used it to hide who he actually was— but he liked hearing you say it.)

“Not that I mind,” you added with a wink. “Do you mind if I have these in the background of my next stream? They'll match the toy I'm gonna use."

"O-oh, yeah, sure,” he choked. “What toy are you gonna use?”

You smirked a little, to the point that he almost felt stupid for asking that— but you didn’t mind showing him, in fact you had it ready and showed the baby-pink toy off for him. His throat got a little tighter when he saw the U-shape of the toy; didn’t take a genius to imagine where that would go… and already his mind was jumping ahead to how you’d look with those silicone ends penetrating both your holes—

“Looks like fun,” he managed to get out, and you looked pretty proud of yourself for making him a bit flustered.

“Do you wanna turn your camera on?” you offered suddenly after you’d set the toy aside. “No pressure, of course.”

He went through a whole rollercoaster when you asked that. Because yes, he did—sort of. But would it just make things more complicated? What if you were uncomfortable with him being famous, thought he might expose you or something—or, more concerningly, what if you exposed him? Or what if you just berated him with dumb fan questions when he was trying to forget about his life right now? “Uh,” he stalled, “is it okay if I don’t, this time?”

“Of course, it’s all up to you,” you replied. “I’m just a little curious… you have a sexy voice. Gotta wonder if it matches.”

He didn’t even know if you would think he was sexy—he certainly hoped so, but maybe you had a type of your own. Maybe you were a lesbian, how should he know? “Thanks,” he hummed, “you too—but, you know, all of you is sexy.”

“Aw shucks,” you said as you struck a pose, putting your hands under your chin and batting your eyes to complete the sarcastic impression of innocence. He laughed, and it reminded him why your videos were so special— ‘cause you made him laugh like that. “You know, a lot of people book these chats because they have a specific kink they want me to try for them,” you explained. “What about you? Why’d you book this?”

“Is it weird if I just… kinda wanted to talk to you?”

His heart skipped when he saw your reaction—the shy, tender smile that appeared on your face. “No, that’s not weird,” you replied, and for some reason it was how incredibly sweet you looked right then that made his cock jump in his boxers. “We can talk about whatever you want.”

“Can we talk about you?”

“Not much to talk about,” you shrugged, smirking a bit; of course you were teasing him, he didn’t even mind.

“I really doubt that,” he chuckled. “Is this your only job? Do you do anything else?”

“I, uh, used to do something else,” you answered, “but then they found out about this.”

“Oh, that sucks…”

“Nah, worked out for the best. Started making way more when I had more time to put into it,” you nodded. “I like this a lot better, actually. No sick leave, but no dress code, either.”

“Yeah, that’s a plus,” he nodded, even though you couldn’t see him.

“What about you? What do you do?”

“Um… I’m an actor,” he replied. He considered lying, but couldn’t come up with anything else.

“Oh, that’s really cool!” you smiled. “Wouldn’t have seen you in anything, would I?”

“Probably not,” he laughed off your question. “Do you, um, have any hobbies? You must not have a lot of spare time, with people paying for chats and custom videos and all…”

“I take a few days off, here and there,” you nodded, “mostly I just like movies and stuff.”

That made him even more anxious that you would know who he was. He still hadn’t decided if that would be a good thing or a bad thing, though.

“I like to cook,” you added.

It was starting to feel like you were intentionally targeting his newly developed girlfriend fetish. Instantly his mind was flooded with all this domestic bullshit: shopping with you for ingredients, coming home to a fresh dinner, waking up to you in the kitchen wearing his shirt and flipping pancakes. “I like to eat,” Dieter replied, “we’re so compatible.”

You laughed, and if this was all just some act where you pretended to think he was funny and interesting, it was the best acting he’d seen in a while. “Are you flirting?” you noticed, raising an eyebrow as if to point out how fitting-yet-bizarre it was for him to be hitting on you—because he didn’t need to, you were his for the half-hour regardless. But he liked this better, and he loved making you laugh.

“Maybe,” he offered cryptically in return.

“Is that what the flowers were for? Are you trying to seduce me?” you accused with a grin.

“Those were just to get your attention,” he admitted.

“Hector, honey,” you cooed, making his heart skip. “You already have my attention.”

That excited him and his dick, which was now making a tent in his boxers as it waited for some of your promised attention; somehow, just casually-flirtatious conversation with you was almost hotter to him than the usual stuff. Maybe he was just a little burnt out on all that by now— because talking to you had become much more valuable than seeing you naked.

“Just tell me one thing about you,” you bargained.

“Alright,” he agreed.

“Are you hard?”

He swallowed. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice sounding weaker than he meant it to. You smirked a little.

“We don’t have to,” you assured him, “but if you’re interested, why don’t we get off together, hm? Does that sound okay?”

Was it a good sign that you were initiating this, or did it just mean you were getting impatient with him? God, it didn’t matter—he was gonna do whatever you wanted. “Okay,” he answered. “Yeah—that sounds… more than okay.”

Biting your lip slightly, the way you looked at the camera almost made him feel like you were sizing him up—even though all you could see was a black screen. “Are you touching your cock already?”

“N-no, I… I still have boxers on,” he replied. “Should I?”

“No, you should rub it a little through the boxers,” you instructed. “That’s what I’m gonna do—touch my clit through these panties. It’s even more sensitive when I do that, don’t ask me how.”

“R-right, okay,” he nodded. He already liked taking instructions from you more than he thought he would. His hand spread out over the bulge in the cotton, a sigh slipping from his lips as he started to find the right amount of pressure so he wouldn’t get too into it too fast.

His eyes were transfixed on the way you spread your legs, and he swore your panties already looked a little damp…

Your finger traced delicately over the seam of your pussy, and his balls tightened up at the way you sighed as you teased yourself. “You should play with your tits, too,” he informed you, his own voice sounding shaky as he tried to hold back from just getting his cock out and jerking off as fervently as he wanted to.

“You’re just full of good ideas, huh?” you joked, taking your free hand and pinching yourself through your shirt.

“Then here’s another one for you,” he offered, “take something off.”

“Shirt or panties?” you asked.

“Dealer’s choice.”

You smiled and surprised him by lifting your hips, pulling your underwear down your thighs before kicking them off to the side. For some reason, even though he gave you the choice, he expected you to take the shirt off first; and there was something surprisingly sexy about you still having that casual t-shirt on and nothing else. (Likely, it was because it made it easier to imagine you just wearing one of his shirts…)

It added a new thrill to the now-familiar sight of your pussy— not that he ever got bored of that view. “Can you— can you spread it for me?” he panted, nearly whimpering when you took two fingers and scissored apart your lips. “Fuck, got such a pretty hole, baby…”

He saw it flex as you heard the compliment, and he couldn’t help but moan quietly. “Yeah? Have you thought about how good it would feel?” you encouraged with a sigh. “How good this hole would feel on your cock?”

“Every fucking day,” he promised.

“Then take it out,” you instructed breathily. “Start touching your cock, and think about what it would be like if I was there touching you instead.”

Though he was glad to do as you’d said, pulling his throbbing erection from his boxers with a sigh, he had to disobey one of your commands. “No, m’thinking about a lot more than that,” he replied, and you cracked a smile as you rubbed your clit faster. “Thinking about being— fuck— inside you…”

You hummed happily; after all that teasing, he was so sensitive and worked up that it felt like he was already fighting to hold himself back. He certainly couldn’t keep his pace down— right away he was stroking himself quickly, struggling to keep it together.

“Thinking about how fucking tight you are,” he added with a groan, loving the little whimper you let out in return.

“Hector, baby,” you moaned, and he hadn’t heard that name said that way in a very long time. “This might be over sooner than I thought if you talk like that…”

“Good,” he decided, “it’s not gonna take me very long, either— you always make me like that.”

“How would you fuck me?” you asked, panting, rocking your hips against your hand. “Tell me how you’d fuck me, baby.”

“Fuck, I—hard,” he choked out. “So fucking hard—”

“Mm,” you moaned encouragingly.

“And I’d eat you out,” he decided, “before and after. I’ve been dying to know how your pussy tastes.”

“After, huh? Is that with your come inside?” you wondered. “Or did you wanna come on my tits?”

“Inside,” he groaned. “I’d eat my—fuck—eat my come out of you, I don’t care.”

“That’s dirty,” you purred, “I like it. I like a man who can clean up his mess.”

“Never liked coming inside that much until I started watching your streams,” he admitted. “Now it’s all I can think about—coming inside you.”

“Fuck,” you moaned, “want you to think about that when you come for me now, okay? Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” he promised, moving his hand faster and feeling that tension in his gut that told him the breaking point was approaching.

“Think about filling me up,” you continued, “giving me all that come, so deep inside—”

“Fuck,” he hissed, “are you close too?”

“Baby, I’ve been trying not to come since we fucking started,” you admitted— and maybe it was a lie, but he bought it joyously.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he gasped, “I’m gonna come so hard— fuck yes— gonna come for you…”

“Do it,” you begged, “I want you to, I want you to come, Hector.”

“You— you should come, too,” he countered with a shaking gasp, his cock already starting to flex as he knew he was seconds away from losing it.

“I will,” you promised with a smile, your voice itself turning every word into a moan, “I’m gonna come with you, baby, fuck— lemme hear it, wanna hear you come—”

He came with a grunt, squeezing down on his cock with his fist as come launched out in long pulses; “F-fuck, I’m coming, ahhh fuck,” he narrated— normally he wouldn’t say something like that, but you had asked to hear it, so…

“Me too, I— oh!” you shouted, and he watched with heavy eyes as you tossed your head back, hips rocking up into nothing— your hand was a blur over your pussy but he swore he could see it pulsing and clenching, creamy slick leaking slowly from your hole.

The last of his come came out as a fat droplet running down his shaft, making his fingers unpleasantly sticky as the ringing in his ears subsided and he began to slowly come back to reality. You were panting, pushing yourself just a bit further until your whole body jolted and you quickly pulled your hand away.

“God,” you groaned, “that was… draining.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, laughing a little at how wrecked his own voice sounded.

“I wish I could just, like, take a nap right now,” you admitted with a tired grin.

“I mean, you could— we’re almost out of time…” he noticed.

“No, I— yeah, I could, but I have something after this,” you replied, and he felt a little twist in his chest. He didn’t blame you at all for it, but it made him jealous to think of you hopping right on to your next call— it made him feel like he was just one of your thousands of fans, which is not how he wanted you to think of him at all.

“Another call?” he assumed.

“No, just private chats,” you corrected, which somehow made him feel a little bit better, “and I should probably post a few things for my Snapchat— we’ll see. I will definitely need a break before my stream tonight, though… will I see you there? Proverbially?”

He smiled a little. “Yeah, definitely.”

“Drink plenty of fluids before then,” you winked. “Thanks for calling, Hector… I hope we can do this again sometime.”

It’s an upsell, she’s not actually into you, she’s not actually into you, he tried to force himself to believe. But it was so much easier, so much more fun, to imagine that you really liked him— that those flowers stood out enough for you to realize that he’s different.

You both said your polite goodbyes and the call ended. He was definitely sleepier than he anticipated after all that— you said you were, too, which made him just want to have you here even more so you could fall asleep on his shoulder and he wouldn’t have to be alone in this bed for the seemingly-thousandth time in a row.

Exhausted to the bone, some impossible mix of satisfied and starving for more of you, Dieter sighed and shut his laptop.

Seven seconds later, he opened it again. He wanted to book his next video call before he passed out.

thank you so much for reading! if you're interested in a second part to this, please let me know by reblogging or maybe even leaving a comment! you can read my other works for pedro pascal characters here or check out my full masterlist here

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x y/n #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #navy and roo's sleepover

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umadosedepascal · 8 months ago

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What a smile… can you imagine Lucien in bed? 😮‍💨

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x f!reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #pedrohub #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller #dieter bravo

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thosewickedlovelies · 1 year ago

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D R O O L I N G

Girl I'm as weak as Snaps rn, what the FUCK horny adorable nonsense did I just read 😩😩😩😩😩😩

Episode 1: Old Habits & New Beginnings

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader "Snaps", Tim Rockford x OFC "Eden"

Summary: Rockford’s mask slips for a moment with Eden. Dieter and Snaps get to know each other.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), grinding, mutual masturbation.

Notes: Welcome to the first episode of Midnight Alley! The response to Simulated was so overwhelming I had to continue their story. This series is going to have some fun playing with form and storytelling both in and out of the show. I hope you all enjoy it!

For anyone who missed Simulated and needs a quick refresher, Dieter's character in Midnight Alley is Tim Rockford, and our reader character Snaps will be playing Eden, Tim's love interest. Lots more will come out in further episodes, but until then enjoy the fun babes!

Cross-posted on AO3

Midnight Alley Series Masterlist

A darkened room, moonlight filtering in through the blinds. The house breathes softly, expansively. No, not the house.

The couch shrouded in shadow moves. A hand reaches up, lined in silver light, and grabs the cushioned back. Knuckles prominent, but a feminine hand, twisting the upholstery in her fist. A car headlight rakes across the room, outlines of two bodies melting into the foreground before disappearing again. As the camera pans in, we hear whistling pants, and the rhythmic creak of the couch. A woman’s head is tossed back on the armrest, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut. A hulking figure presses her into the cushions, the dim light highlighting her legs braced on either side. As our eyes adjust her features come into focus, camera tight on her upper body. Her patterned blouse is open, draped in crumpled wrinkles across her heaving chest. She’s familiar, but we can’t quite place her. Her body shakes, back arching as a quiet, wet noise tickles our ears off camera.

“Tim…” she croons, a rasp at the end as a large, blunt-fingered hand slides up her stomach to wrap under her breast. A pop, followed by a thick sigh.

“Good to know you’re not mistaking me for God anymore,” a voice rumbles, thick with lust as we watch her smile and reach for him. When he shuffles up to kiss her, Tim Rockford’s broad shoulders stretch white cotton across the screen. He deepens the kiss but pulls away quickly, making her chase his smirk. She nips at his chin, smiling when he curls his fingers around her jaw and thumbs her lower lip.

“God’s never touched me in the ways you do,” she retorts, voice like velvet and smoke curling through our ears. The camera holds on Tim’s face, a rare gentle smile carved in the darkness. We can’t recall the last time his cheeks weren’t cut with frown lines, the permanent wrinkle between his brows miraculously smoothed.

“I’m grateful you let me into your garden of Eden,” he says, tracing her figure below him. She rolls her eyes, but it’s playful. Cupping his cheeks, his eyes flutter. We sit up, pay attention now. There’s something different about this one. Rockford always treats his women well, leaves them sated and glowing, but rarely gains more than a modicum of weight lifted. This is something new, something special.

“Pretty sure what you were just doing would get you kicked out of Paradise,” she shoots back, earning a huff from his parted lips. He shakes his head, a glint in his eye as he shifts back down her body.

“Good thing I’m not a God-fearing man,” he says, one expansive palm lifting her leg to drape over his shoulder. He dips down, keeping eye contact as her thigh obscures his scruff-dusted jaw, when…

“Cut!” Adam calls, cameras whirring to a stop with a cacophony of shuffling shoes. Dieter sits back on his heels, rolling his shoulders as you stretch out your bent knees on either side of his hips.

“I still think he should have a wet face when he comes up for air,” Dieter says with an edge of petulance. It makes you smirk, turning your face into the couch to hide it from the director, but Dieter catches it.

“I told you it’s too much Di,” Adam says back, the exasperated tone of a parent telling their kid one last time he can’t have a cookie before bed. But in this case the cookie is a stroke to Dieter’s ego.

“Just saying, Rockford would be all up in there. He’s getting soaked. He’s not kitten licking her to completion, man is covered from nose to chin,” Dieter reasons, the hollow shout of, “Knock it off, Bravo,” coming from the back of the room where the intimacy coordinator sits.

“I’m fine, Molly,” you call back, settling into the couch as you roll your ankles and flex your knee. You’ve got one more scene in this position then it’s a set change, but your butt has started going numb and your legs are stiff after the constant faux gyrating.

“Here, let me Snaps,” Dieter offers, scooting back to the end of the couch and wrapping his warm palms around your calf. You warm at the endearment, the playful moniker a result of Dieter catching you taking photos of everything on set. From the makeup trailer to the sweet lady who hands you sandwiches, you documented everything on your first day back. It’s still surreal, knowing that your name isn’t going to be a one-time showing in the credits. The photos serve as proof when you’re lying in bed and worried that you’re in some bizarre longform dream.

Dieter presses a thick thumb into the meat of your calf, searching for a moment before a sharp pain races into your pelvis. “Got this tip from All Hands, my hips kept aching after shoots and Joji taught me this acupressure spot.”

The sensation is like liquid fire running up your leg, but something is releasing around your hip joint. Dieter holds pressure there for a little while longer before slowly releasing, the pain subsiding. His hands don’t leave though, remaining spread and soothing on your calf. His left creeps slowly past your knee, thumb stroking the delicate skin of your inner thigh.

“Good trick,” you say back as casually as you can muster. No one else seems to have noticed, and you’d like to keep it that way.

It had only been one date. You didn’t want to get your hopes too high. Didn’t want to touch him like he’s touching you in front of too many people in case he’s done with you in a week.

Definitely didn’t want to touch him like that night.

He’d picked you up from your apartment, and while you didn’t expect him to be wearing a gun holster or a ratty t-shirt-sweatpant combo, you were surprised at how nicely he cleaned up. A loud button-up that you’re sure is by Gucci or Versace or some other name brand, the top three buttons open to reveal his smoothly freckled chest. Devastatingly fitted dark jeans that made his already swoon-worthy thighs all the more gorgeous. Rings glittering on his fingers as he tucked his thumbs into his belt loops. The wild mane he’s known for, and that you covet, as tempting as ever.

He was oddly demure when you came out to meet him. He gave you a hug, a whiskery kiss on the cheek, and ushered you into his car. It took two minutes of silent driving, your heart hammering in your chest, before he blurted out, “You look fucking amazing, I think my brain just vacated my body for a minute there. Am I driving?” The nervous giggles devolving into snorting laughter shook you both, fighting to regain composure at the stoplight.

It was easily the most fun date you’d ever been on. The place he took you was out of the way enough that paparazzi wouldn’t be hovering for photos, but not so intimate to assume it was a precursor to a quick fuck. The conversation hopped from past work to favorite hobbies and actor in-jokes. He complimented you on your theater training, you complimented him on his movie trivia knowledge. You shared tapas and white wine sangria, Dieter speaking to the servers and staff in Spanish with a warmth that hinted at a long-term friendship. You shared a caramel flan and he ghosted his fingers over your hand.

It’s so different from what you thought Dieter might be like.

Sure, as he’d gotten older his escapades had faded several pages back into the tabloids, but he’d been wild for a time. A new scandal, a lover speaking out. Mostly things that inferred him being a wild partier, or an exhibitionist, or hedonistic to a point that made you blush. You half expected the date to be at a loud bar or a celebrity hot spot. The fact that it’s soft and quiet makes you reconsider how soft and quiet Dieter might be under all the bravado.

When he parked out front of your apartment you blurted out an invite up, which he accepted with a sly smile. The heat of Dieter’s presence tingled up your spine, but he only sat on your worn couch and accepted a glass of whiskey. So you talked. And talked. And laughed. And flirted. And you would have worried that he had a terrible time and was trying to let you down easy except for the fact that it was nearing one in the morning and he hadn’t left.

When your anxieties bubbled to the surface and past your lips he pulled you into his lap and kissed you until your lungs burned and your head swam. “I wanted, for once, to take it slow. With you,” he admitted, sliding his hands up your spine with a sheepish smile. “Didn’t want you to think all I wanted was a one nighter.” When he cautiously looked up at you through his thick lashes your awe-struck smile smoothed the wrinkle between his brows.

Dieter didn’t fuck you that night. He deserved an Oscar for denying himself that, especially when you pressed so sweetly against his growing erection. Instead he guided your hips to roll against him, mouthing at your neck and telling you how good you felt, how pretty you were on top of him, how he couldn’t believe how sexy you are. A shuddering little orgasm flooded your brain, making you loose-limbed and heavy on his lap as he rocked you through it. The insistent lap of your tongue and scrape of your teeth against his mouth softened into indulgent kisses that dragged you closer to sleep. Dieter’s voice cut through the fog - “As much as I’d like to, I probably can’t carry you to bed with my shitty back,” - and he helped you stumble under the covers, leaving with a gentle kiss to your lips, another on your forehead.

That night would remain secret and special to only you. Something no one could syndicate.

“Better?” Dieter asks, his attention narrowed in on your face. His fingers still dance inside your thigh.

“Much. Thanks Di,” you say breezily, settling into your starting position again. Dieter repositions, read to dive back in (figuratively). His coffee eyes catch yours again, a little anxiety of his own coloring his usually confident smile.

“Dinner at my place tonight?” he asks quietly, and he probably doesn’t know how vulnerable his voice sounds. It pulls a soft smile to your lips.

“Yeah, sounds great.”

Adam’s voice cuts into your conversation.

“Quiet on set!”

“Good thing I’m not a God-fearing man,” Rockford says, one expansive palm lifting her leg to drape over his shoulder. He dips down, keeping eye contact as her thigh obscures his scruff-dusted jaw, when…

The telephone rings.

They freeze, frustration etching deep into his face.

“I’m sorry, I have to…” he groans, untangling himself from her limbs. The camera cuts to the kitchen, an outdated corded phone hanging off the yellow wall. Rockford, dressed in dark slacks and an open button-down and undershirt, stalks in to stop the offensive ringing. He holds the phone to his ear, the steely expression melting into disappointment, and resignation. While he exchanges a few low questions with the person on the other end of the line, the woman emerges from the shadows. The brighter wash of light reveals that we do know her. She’s the one he picked up in the bar three episodes ago, now standing in a blouse she’s wrapped around her chest and a pair of white socks. She watches Rockford’s back, waiting a beat after he hangs up the phone to wrap her arms around him. He settles his hands over hers, head tilting back as she rests her forehead between his shoulder blades.

“They found something. It can’t wait,” he says simply, a weariness returning to his broad shoulders. “I can take you home on the way.”

“I could stay,” she offers, Rockford turning in her arms. “So you don’t have to come back to an empty house.”

He cups her cheek, a grateful look quickly replaced with regret. She watches, nods. We all know that can’t happen. Not yet. There’s too much standing between them for him to accept.

“I’ll get dressed,” she says, walking back into darkness. Rockford braces his hands on the door frame, hanging his head. He takes a breath, then follows.

The ungodly moan you let out makes Dieter’s lips quirk up into a prideful smile.

“That good?” he asks.

“Fuck, Di, where did you learn to cook like this?” you say through a half-full mouth of the best pasta you’ve ever had. His cheeks flush prettily as he pushes his own around the bowl, another forkful already on its way to your lips.

“I’ve got a handful of home runs I save for special occasions,” he says, taking a sip of the red wine he decanted while you were walking in the door. “But outside of that? I’ll gladly order takeout.”

“It’s fantastic, thank you for making it,” you say, enjoying how he busies himself with his plate to smile into his chest. It makes your own smile tug at your cheeks. You know how hot he can be, how sexy and thoughtful and suave, but he’s also cute?

After a spirited discussion about some of the dialogue in recent seasons - nobody talks like that coming up against it’s a play on the trope - you help clear the table and loiter in the kitchen while Dieter puts the dishes in the sink. The immaculate marble countertop, plus a little of the wine thrumming in your veins, tempts you to hop up and sit on it as he rinses out the wine glasses and sets them on a drying rack. The dishes are sparse, only four bowls, a handful of cups. The kitchen is artfully, but not practically styled. You meant to ask if this was Dieter’s home or if he was renting it, the modern pristine aesthetic clashing against what you know of him, but before you can voice your thoughts Dieter is standing in front of you, hands on your knees.

“Would you like some dessert?” he asks, the dip in tone carrying the thrum of your heartbeat straight between your thighs. Heat creeps up your neck and blooms across your chest, but you hold to the words Dieter soothed you with last time.

Take it slow.

“What did you have in mind?” you ask, letting Dieter part your thighs to stand between them. One hand slips around your waist, the other skimming up your arm to cup your neck. He has to tilt his head up to look at you, and from this vantage you can admire the little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the deep crease in his bottom lip, the little scar on the bridge of his nose from an old on-set injury. You can’t help melting into him, sliding your fingers into the unruly locks at the base of his neck and holding him precious in your hands. His eyes slip shut, and you swear you hear a low purr rumble in his chest.

“Something delicious,” he whispers before he pulls you down to meet him.

It’s as intoxicating as the first time, his lips slotting between yours while he sighs like a man returned home. The tips of your noses brush as he tilts his head to better lick into your mouth, tannic laps as you savor each other. His hands pull you closer to the counter edge, your legs coming up to wrap around his waist. The plush flesh of his stomach presses against your core, and for a moment you imagine grinding against him, coating his skin in your slick. How he would look watching you writhe against him. Was he the kind of man to cast dark, demanding eyes along your skin, or watch you like a goddess with wonder?

A final sweep, and he parts from you with a little pant and shiny lips.

“Fuck, I said I was going to go slow and you’ve got me wanting to toss all that out the window,” he says, stealing a smaller kiss from your parted lips.

“I like where this is going right now,” you say breathlessly, rolling your hips along his clothed stomach. He groans, pressing your foreheads together.

“I’d like to have dessert first,” he says, and you’re about to ask him how he can think of food at a time like this when two large, firm hands slide under your skirt and search for the hem of your panties. Once located, he drags them down your legs, aided by the lift of your hips. They’re a lacy pair, more substantial than a thong but not by much. He crumples them in his hand and slips them in his pocket.

“Can I eat your pussy, Snaps?” he breathes, ghosting his lips over the top of your thigh, dragging his nose along the stretch of your skirt hem. Your cunt is practically gushing, but you still have to laugh.

“I can’t believe you used that cliche-ass line,” you giggle, Dieter’s eyes snapping up to your mirth at his expense.

“I think it worked,” he drawls out, and one hand slips between your legs to thumb at your soaked folds. “Made you fucking drenched, didn’t it?” Your tongue struck dumb, he steals a glance at your face. “Oh, yes it did. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” he says, smug smile giving way to the open-mouth kisses he trails down your thighs as he fists your skirt up over your hips. The shock of cool marble on your bare ass steals your breath before Dieter’s lips pressing a chaste kiss just above your clit suffocates you. One large hand spreads across your chest, gently pressing you back to lay on the expansive countertop. Your whole body thrums in anticipation as he lifts your leg over his shoulder, pressing your hip open so he can breathe you in.

“Fuck, Snaps, you’re not dessert, you’re a whole damn meal,” he groans. A retort dances behind your teeth before dissolving to nothing when Dieter’s tongue slides slowly over your clit, savoring your taste. He pulls back, staring at your silky pussy on display, then with a whispered, “fuck,” he dives in for more.

The tenacity and fervor with which Dieter slurps and moans into your cunt clenches your walls and bows your spine. He grips your thighs, spilling flesh between his fingers as he swirls his tongue on your clit and sucks greedily. There’s nothing for you to hold onto on the smooth counter, so you bury your fingers in his hair to an approving growl that vibrates your core.

“Just like that, you tasty little thing, give it a good pull if I’m doing well,” Dieter rasps, sliding his tongue down to prod your entrance. Thighs tightening, hips rolling, you feel gloriously untethered to the world except for Dieter’s touch. After working his tongue inside you he presses deeper into your folds, hawkish nose sliding over your clit. He rocks his face against you, a mess of his pulsing tongue, hot puffs of air against your intimate flesh, and his dark eyes coaxing gush after gush of slick into his waiting mouth.

Fuck ever faking it with him again, Dieter could rail you on set in front of craft services and you’d thank him for it.

The shudder of your impending orgasm raises your voice, hoarse gasps and whines as Dieter intensifies his technique, rubbing hard circles on your clit with the tip of his tongue and sliding one perfectly thick finger inside you. You throw an arm over your eyes, coherent enough to whimper and weakly wail when he presses into your g-spot and drags your clit along his tongue in a neverending roll. It’s right there, you’re going to cum on Dieter’s face, when…

A phone rings.

Dieter’s phone.

The harsh tones of Apple’s default ringer still your hips, Dieter’s mouth still moving against you.

“Di…” you call out weakly, tapping your fingers against his temple to get him to look up at you. His mouth pops off, and true to his on-set assumption he’s coated from the bridge of his nose to the base of his chin with your slick. It glistens in his mustache, one silvery smear dragging up his cheek. His eyes are glassy and fucked-out when he meets yours.

“Wha’s wrong?” he slurs, licking his lips and suppressing a groan. Your cunt clenches hard, screaming to cum.

“Your phone,” you say, the glow across the room visible from the coffee table. He looks over at it for a moment, slow blinking when he returns to your face.

“And?” he asks, blankly taking in your nervous energy.

“It could be…something…important?” you squeak out, legs still splayed lewdly around him. He watches you for a moment more, puzzling through something, before understanding dawns on his face.

“How much like Rockford do you think I am?” he asks, leaning down and pressing a sticky kiss just above your bellybutton. It makes your abdomen jump, the tickle of his mustache trailing as he slides your shirt up below your breasts. “Do you think anything at all is worth tearing myself away from your gorgeous fucking body?” He licks a line up to your bra, scraping his teeth on the supple skin. “You think a phone call could stop me from making you scream?”

His hands and mouth still, prompting you to sit up to stare at his hungry face. Hair disheveled from your hands, a flush across his cheeks, and a devious smile all answer his questions, but you know he needs you to say it.

“No.”

His smile turns devilish.

“Good girl.”

With increased voracity he returns to your cunt, sucking his fingers into his mouth before strumming them quickly over your clit. The stimulation arches your back and snaps your thighs closed around his head, only stopped by one hand pressing you open mercilessly. The wrecked gasp he tears from your throat stops the onslaught, redirecting two fingers deep into your cunt to press hard into your g-spot, his hot tongue back on your clit with a pattern of quick circles and soft laps. You scrabble for his hair, the broad expanse of his shoulders, the fingers wrapped around your thighs. He finally gives you something, threading your fingers together so you can grip him while your orgasm burns you from the inside out. Your lungs scream, eyes screwed shut as Dieter pours molten pleasure into you, fire and ice and ecstasy. He growls into your cunt, refusing to stop until your spasming hips fall back to the counter and each breath ends on an overstimulated gasp. Only then does he lift up to gather you in his arms, pulling you around him so he can mouth at your neck and trail kisses back to your gasping mouth. He strokes long paths up and down your thighs, letting you drape over his broad shoulders and rest your head. Faintly you still hear ringing, but so far away that it could be a dream.

“That’s a good girl,” he purrs into your ear, earning a weak tug of his hair. “I knew you’d be fucking delicious.”

“Shit, Di, did you suck my soul out?” you joke, laughter rumbling you both.

“Now you know how I felt when I first saw you,” he muses, stroking the back of your neck. You turn your face into his throat, savoring the warmth and masculine scent of his sweat. The ringing pauses for a few seconds, then starts back up again.

“Do you need…” you ask, leaning back to smile down at Dieter. He rolls his eyes.

“On principle I’m not going to answer it for the rest of the night. Camille has my calendar, she should know better,” he says, dipping his head to scrape his teeth on your collarbone. Your thighs clench around his waist, his supple mouth dotting a kiss over his teeth marks.

“Unlike Rockford, I don’t put my work above my partners,” he says nonchalantly, as if that word doesn’t make you lightheaded. “I also don’t drown myself in drink and drugs as heavily, or engage in as much casual sex as I used to.” His hands splay wide over your back, brushing your noses together as you fight to meet his eyes. “My dark and brooding past is mostly full of self-loathing and coping mechanisms, not failed murder investigations.” Dieter draws you closer to the edge of the table, his hard cock grazing your core just enough to make you hum into his ear. “And I’ll make you cum three times tonight, not two.”

You take a playful nip at Dieter’s ear, the clink of his earring against your teeth thrilling.

“Is your technique as good as his?” you ask innocently, his hands suddenly possessive on your skin.

“Better,” he promises. Then he takes you to his bed and proves it.

END

#im obsessed with this #i loved the narration of the opening scene of the show #also nervous adorable Dieter with godly p*ssy eating prowess 😌#the dream #dieter fics

204 notes · View notes

absurdthirst · 22 days ago

Text

Trick or Treat {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3k

Warnings: Bodyswap AU, groping, masturbation (male and female), drug use, anxiety, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex

Comments: At Dieter's annual Halloween Party, you meet a witch. Venting about your unappreciative boss, she decides that you should walk a mile in each other's shoes, only switching back when you make the right choices.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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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.

It's Dieter's annual Halloween party and of course, you're stuck managing the catering and the bartenders and the drug dealers - basically overseeing the entire party - to make sure your boss is happy. Forget going out to get drunk and dress up. Every year you are Dieter's assistant turned party planner. The man himself is dressed up as a king. He wanted a comfortable costume and "there's nothing more comfortable than leggings" he had informed you. You sigh as you take a moment to rest, leaning against the wall as the party goers down shots and Dieter's laugh booms across the living room.

"Everything okay?" A woman approaches you, dressed in a witches costume and you think it looks good. Not tacky. Her pendulum sways around her neck and her eyes meet yours, making you want to confess your annoyance.

"I'm good. I - actually, no. I'm not good. My boss...he's a dick. He has no clue what I do for him. He gets to live a life of luxury, meanwhile, I'm running around fulfilling his every wish." You bitch and the woman tilts her head, "do you not think his life is hectic? Busy learning all those lines. Staying up all hours to film. It's not easy." She counters and you snort. "Oh yeah. Reading a fucking line and standing where they tell you. So hard." You scoff, "while I break my back getting him a fucking salad from that place in Goddamn Newport Beach. Traffic and - shit. I- I shouldn't be saying this." You finally catch yourself and she shakes her head. "I can help. Maybe you want him to see how hard it is to be you...maybe you can see how hard it is to be him." She says and you cross your arms, over her not just agreeing with your venting.

"Yeah, sure. He wouldn't survive a day being me. His life? I'd give anything to have it." You confess and she smirks, snapping her fingers in front of your face. "You'll see what his life is like." She promises and you stare at her, "are you high or something?" You ask and she chuckles, shaking her head as she walks off, a bag on her shoulder with a badge for a coffee shop you've been to for Dieter.

"Weird." You murmur, shaking your head as you continue rushing around to make sure this party is up to Dieter's standards. You don't realize when you finally collapse in bed that you won't be waking up there come morning.

Morning always comes slowly to Dieter. Even when he’s filming. He doesn’t wake up instantly and normally when you are prodding him out of bed, he’s already been awake for a few hours, but just can’t move. A combination of drugs and insomnia. He uses the drugs to help him sleep but no matter what, he can’t seem to sleep through the night. This morning, it’s off that the hangover he had been anticipating wasn’t throbbing in the back of his head and the blaring of the alarm nearly makes him jump a foot. He didn’t set an alarm. Maybe the person he had hopefully taken to bed had one on. “Huh?”

You wake up with a groan. Your head is absolutely aching and you feel like you’ve swallowed feathers. Your throat is dry and your first thought when you wake up is that you’re sick. Shit, Dieter won’t like you taking a day off or possibly getting him sick. You can’t win. You groan, rubbing your head and your eyes widen at the distinctly low register of your voice. Shit, you must be really sick. You shift to sit up, opening your eyes properly and they widen when you see you’re in Dieter’s bedroom. What the fuck? “Dieter?” You call out and you scream, your voice deep like your boss’s. You shuffle out of bed, feeling something between your legs and you look down and scream. You have a penis! A fucking cock! You’re naked and holy shit. You rush over to the mirror, screaming again when you see your reflection - Dieter’s reflection. You heave, trying to figure out if you’ve been drugged. You scramble to find Dieter’s phone, searching through the bed sheets until you find it. Unlocking it with the passcode you know, your - his - hands shake as you press your contact, hoping this is some kind of dream as you listen to the line ring.

His head shoots up from the pillows and he rolls over. “Fuck!” His chest hurts and he looks down to see if he rolled over on his pen or something and his eyes widen as he sees the sheets. These aren’t his sheets. He glances around the room, not his room. The phone blares again and he scrambles over to the table and his eyes widen when he sees his name ‘Dieter the Dick’ on the caller id. “Hello?”

“Dieter?” You ask, your stomach twisting at hearing your own voice. He screams, dropping the phone from his hand. “Why do you sound like me? Why do I sound like you?” He asks and you say “look in the mirror. What do you see?” You ask, wondering if this is some kind of sick joke.

Dieter rushes over towards a mirror attached to a dresser and screams again. Grabbing his/your face as he starts pulling at it. “Why do I look like you? What did you do? What kind of mask is this?” His panic subsided for a second and he leans in, “it’s really life-like. But what the FUCK is going on?!??!” When he dropped your phone, the speaker phone button had been hit, so you could hear everything he said clearly.

“I don’t know! I dont fucking know. I- I’m at your house and I- I have a dick and I look like you and oh God. How the fuck - what happened? How do we fix this?” You ask and he immediately says “how do you fix this?” You want to roll your eyes but you’re too panicked. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” You freak out, trying to fix this.

“Wait a minute….” Dieter frowns and looks down at the chest covered by a t-shirt. “That means I have tits!” He cries. “I have your tits! And a pussy!” Immediately, Dieter is lifting the shirt and flashing himself in the mirror. “Fuck, they’re nicer than I imagined.”

"Stop looking at my tits!" You yell at him down the phone. Your own eyes wandering along his naked form. He always sleeps naked. "Shit" You murmur as you look at his flaccid cock, still impressive and uncut like you always suspected since his parents brought him to America when he was a few years old.

“They’re my tits right now.” He can’t resist reaching up and squeezing them. “No wonder women like it when you play with them.” He grunts, teasing the hardening nipples. “This is really fuckin’ weird, but I kinda like it.”

“Oh my God.” You groan, mortified and annoyed that he’s molesting you. “I didn’t tell you you could touch my tits.” You hiss, “you want me fondling your balls?” You ask him, pissed off and intrigued as you look down at the cock between your thighs.

“Sure.” Dieter chuckles. “Find out how good it feels to scratch them.” He drops his hands away from the breasts since you seem so upright and he hums. “Do you shave or go au naturale?” He asks.

“Don’t you dare!” You hiss down the phone, knowing what he wants to do. “Fuck, Bravo. What are we gonna do - how did this happen - and oh my God, you’re touching my vagina, aren’t you?” You cringe, closing your eyes as if that will stop him.

“Nooooo.” Dieter lies, his hand in his pants and grinning at the smooth skin. “I’m not touching your freshly waxed pussy. Do you do that for a boyfriend? Or do you just like the way it feels? Oh- fuck, do you have a boyfriend? I can fuck him for you. I won’t mind. It would be interesting to see how it feels.”

You gasp, shocked but deep down not surprised. “No. No. That won’t be necessary. I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t have a boyfriend because I don’t have fucking time.” You growl before you gasp again. “The woman. Last night at the party. She - shit. That coffee shop. We need - we need to find her.” She snapped her fingers after you vented. Maybe she knows what happened. You’re grasping at straws but that’s all you can do.

“What are you talking about? What woman?” Dieter frowns, looking at your reflection in the mirror. “Did I have someone in the bed with me? You need to kick them out. I don’t know how you fuck. You can’t ruin my reputation.”

You growl, full of frustration. “Shut the fuck up. I- there’s no one here. This woman came up to me at the party. I- I vented to her and she snapped her fingers in front of my face. I think she - no. I know she has something to do with this. She had a badge on her purse for that coffee shop down the street from the studio. We gotta go there and find her. Maybe she knows what is going on.”

“You think some lady from a coffee shop is the reason I have your pussy in my hand? I mean, your hand?” He’s already moved his fingers away, but it seems to frustrate you. “Are you sure we aren’t just tripping? We could be tripping.”

“It’s not drugs. I don’t do drugs.” You confess, having seen the state he gets himself into, you’ve never wanted to take drugs. “Seriously, this woman…it’s the only clue we have so we can get back into our own bodies. You have filming tomorrow and I - I need my body back before you completely molest it.” You huff, unused to your voice - his voice - not being so whiney.

"Like you aren’t thinking about doing the helicopter with my dick." He snorts, looking around the room with a sigh when you don’t answer. "Fine. I'll shower and get dressed. Do you need me to do anything? Any routine? Birth control?"

“I have an IUD but don’t you dare have random sex with my body. I don’t want any STIs. Just pick out some leggings and a t-shirt and wear a bra.” You tell him, “and underwear.” You huff, knowing that Dieter’s body likely needs a shower. “I’ll come pick you up in thirty minutes. I know where the coffee shop is.” You say and hang up, groaning again at the headache. You quickly located the aspirin in his nightstand and down the dusty bottle of water, ignoring the sex toys in the drawer before you shut it. You make his bed and head into the shower, taking a moment to look at his body. He has a birthmark on his chest that you’ve never noticed before. You shower, groaning at the water pressure - so much better than your own - and you search through his clothes for something to wear that isn’t threadbare. Finding some jeans and a t-shirt, you find it weird dressing in his clothes, his cock tucked into his briefs for once - and soon enough, you’re getting in his car to head over to your place.

Dieter showered, taking his time as he washes your body and he decided that he wouldn’t wear the underwear you asked for, it is too uncomfortable. Still, he’s ready to go just like you told him to be, deciding to rummage around in your purse since he is saving going through your phone for later.

You stand in front of your door, having to ring your own doorbell which is weird and you inhale sharply when your body answers the door. It's bizarre seeing yourself, seeing your own figure and you realize you don't see yourself the same in a mirror. "God, this is fucking weird." You gasp, staring at yourself as Dieter looks at his own body.

Dieter frowns. “What are you wearing?” He demands, looking around outside your door to see if anyone is watching. Looking for paps. “That’s too conspicuous! The paps will spot me! You! Whatever!”

You scoff, “it’s jeans and a polo shirt.” You counter and Dieter shakes his head. “No. No. They are gonna see me - you - me and shit. I don’t want fucking pap photos.” He hisses and you roll your eyes, “well too fucking late now.” You huff and cross your arms, “come on. Let’s go.”

Dieter huffs and rolls his eyes. “Fine, but they are going to speculate who I’m with.” He taunts you, leaning forward and wrapping his arm around you. “So get ready.”

It’s weird to be embraced by yourself as he exits your home. “Don’t forget my - your purse. And to lock the door.” You remind him, knowing he isn’t used to doing that kind of stuff for himself.

“Oh shit, that’s right.” He whirls around and grabs your purse, groaning at the weight. “Why do you have so much shit in here?” He demands, making you huff.

“Because I have to carry your lip balm and your extra sunglasses, your favorite autograph pen. Your sunscreen and hand lotion.” You list off making him wince.

“Okay, okay. Let’s go.”

You walk to his car and he walks to the driver's side with you. “Um…I’m driving.” You tell him.

“It’s my car!” He whines and you shake your head, “technically it’s my car and I know where we are going. You have no clue where a coffee shop is, let alone the coffee shop.” You raise your eyebrows as you open the door to get in.

Dieter huffs and pouts, reluctantly climbing into the passenger side and clicking his seatbelt. “You scratch my car, I’ll fire you.” He threatens, although he would never actually fire you. You’re too valuable.

You roll your eyes as you settle into the driver’s seat. “I’m a better driver than you, Dieter. I’m not the one with a DUI and God knows how many parking tickets.” You snort as you start the car and pull away from your home.

“One, it’s LA - everyone has parking tickets. Two, that DUI was bullshit, I wasn’t high.” Dieter insists, frowning again. “I hadn’t taken anything yet. I swear they had it out for me.”

You scoff, “sure thing.” You reach to turn on the radio, needing a distraction as you drive to the coffee shop. “So fucking weird.” You squint, realizing you can’t see the signs above so you grab his glasses from his console and put them on. “I got your eyes too.” You huff, adjusting your grip on the steering wheel.

“Hey…” He huffs, annoyed that you are calling him out on his eyesight. “At least you get to pee standing up now.” He shoots back before looking out the window. “Where are we going?” He whines. “I don’t like this side of town.”

“Well it’s where your favorite coffee is. You never question it when I put it in a Starbucks cup that I wash out.” You confess, wanting him to know that he’s been swindled by you. You want to support local businesses and that coffee shop is the only one that ever gets your order right.

“What else have you been lying about?” His head snaps towards you, shocked to find that his double shot venti latte over ice with two pumps of sugar free caramel and two pumps of sugar free chocolate with fat free soy milk isn’t from the popular coffee chain.

“I have my secrets.” You smirk, glancing over at him. “You have no clue how your life runs so smoothly. I do everything for you. I even buy your underwear.” You chuckle humorlessly. “You’d crumble doing one day of my job.”

Dieter huffs, rolling his eyes. “Despite what you might think, babe, my life isn’t fucking sunshine and roses.” He promises. “I can’t wait for you to see all the shit I have to put up with. That you don’t see.” He crosses his arms and snorts. “So you buy my underwear and get my coffee? I pay you really fucking good to do it.”

“And call me at three in the morning to get you Taco Bell. I can live your life any day. All you do is recite lines that you memorize. Besides, hopefully we don’t have to do that.” You say, pulling into the parking lot of the coffee shop and you put the car in park. “We’re here.”

Dieter is annoyed that you seem to think that he has it so easy. That anyone could do his job, or put up with the bullshit he does. He jerks the seatbelt off and storms out of the car, eager to get this fixed and get the fuck away from you.

You walk into the coffee shop, forgetting for a moment that you are Dieter Bravo and several sets of eyes fix on you. It’s uncomfortable and you immediately want to hide but you can’t, you need to get this fixed as soon as possible. You walk up to the counter and glance at all the staff. “Hi. Welcome to Roasted.” The woman behind the counter greets you and you offer her a Dieter signature smile, “hi. I’m looking for a girl. She was at a party and she was wearing a witches costume and she had a pendulum around her neck. Oh and a septum piercing. Does she work here?” You ask as Dieter, more polite than he’s ever been and she frowns, “there’s no one here that fits that description.”

Dieter sighs and rolls his eyes, forgetting that he’s in your body. “We might as well order.” He grumbles. “Since we’re here.” You are apparently tilting at windmills or you made the entire story up. He doesn’t know, but he’s bored of this and his anger is starting to get the best of him. Stomach rumbling, he doesn’t know how the fuck you do this, being hungry.

You nod, not feeling hungry despite your head still aching. You order Dieter's usual before ordering your own regular order. "Anything to eat?" You ask him, feeling like eating is the last thing in the world you want to do.

"Fuck yes, I'm starving." He whines, staring at the menu board longingly. "How the fuck do you do this? When was the last time you ate? Five years ago?"

You chuckle, "no. I just don't get off my ass on drugs." You snort and look up at the board, nothing taking your fancy but you order a bagel with cream cheese to try to eat. "What do you want Dee- baby?" You try to correct your mistake, knowing people would find it weird calling your body by his name.

His eyes cut over to you and he decides to have a little fun with you. "Well, I'd rather have you making me scream your name again." He makes your voice sound breathless, like it's remembering the pleasure from before. "Have you for breakfast, but since we'd be arrested...." He gives a giggle and leans in to kiss his own cheek in the body you are now occupying. "I want the French toast bagel sandwich with egg, cheese, sausage and extra bacon." He winks. "You know I need my energy for later when I suck your cock."

Your eyes widen and you nearly choke as the barista stares in shock. “Uh, yeah baby. Fine. You can, uh, do whatever you want later. We can, uh, how much is it?” You ask the barista who stammers out the total and you reach into your pocket for his wallet, pulling his card out to pay.

Dieter smirks proudly and he can't help himself, he reaches down and grabs your/his ass. "Love this ass." He hisses and grins at the barista. "Wouldn't you like to touch it? He's famous, you know."

The barista looks at you - Dieter - and you fluster, “uh, I’m - your food will be ready soon.” She rushes out and you reach behind you to grab your/Dieter’s hand.

“Fucking hell. Stop that. You’re gonna get us in the Enquirer or some shit.”

"You didn't seem to mind making me look crazy." Dieter frowns at you and crosses his arms over his chest and wincing. "Fuck. How do you-?" He pulls them away and tries to reposition them over the breasts he is not used to carrying. "Why does that hurt?"

“Because it’s flesh. Put them under.” You can’t help but reach out to adjust your arms and he sighs, neither of you noticing the way everyone in the cafe is watching until you drop your hands and walk over to the end of the counter to wait for the food and drinks. “Go sit down.” You tell Dieter, knowing he will want to be served.

“Don’t I do everything for you?” He points out childishly, ignoring you and walking over beside you. “You’re the spoiled actor. Go sign autographs.”

“Old habits die hard.” You roll your eyes, “no one wants one. It’s not that bad. Honestly you make it seem like people are dry humping you for a photo.” You snort, “such a drama queen.”

Dieter snorts, shaking his head. “Whatever, ‘Dee’.” He huffs mockingly and opens your bag to search through the cave of wonders to find the pen to slap into your hand.

A young girl, a late teen, comes over and you look at her in surprise. “Hi. Mr. Bravo. Wow, uh, I loved you in Hunger Strike. I’ve watched that movie so many times and I - God, could I get an autograph?” She holds out a notebook and you nod, hoping this body has his signature as muscle memory. You take the notebook and sign, letting the body lead and you sigh softly as you look at his signature. “Can I get a photo?” She asks and you nod so she hands her camera to you/Dieter.

Dieter looks over and smirks, finding it hilarious that you’ve already been accosted when you had quite firmly told him that no one cared. It’s strange to see his body moving, he doesn’t even like watching his own movies so this is doubly unnerving. The order number is called and he turns back towards the counter, immediately huffing because they got his order wrong.

You smile at the girl as she thanks you and you turn to you/Dieter. “What’s wrong?” You ask.

“They got my order wrong.” He huffs and you want to roll your eyes at the little stomp of a foot.

“It’s okay.” You say and call over the barista. “Hey sweetie, you got hi- her order wrong. Tell them what’s missing.” You order Dieter, hoping he does it politely.

“There’s no extra bacon.” Dieter grumbles, craving the saltiness. “I asked for sausage and extra bacon.”

“So-sorry. We can change it for you.” The barista says and you look at Dieter, “you could at least say please.” You raise your eyebrows and Dieter huffs, “they should get it right the first time.” It’s your turn to huff and you carry the tray over to an empty table, leaving Dieter to wait for his food.

Dieter huffs, frowning because he’s not used to people not fawning over him and making sure his order is right. “This body sucks.” He mumbles, looking over at where another person approaches you.

You want to roll your eyes but a man approaches you, holding a cell phone. "Hey man. I, uh, really loved you in Fire and Fury: The Destruction. Could, uh, could I get a selfie?" He asks and you want to huff and say no but you don't, nodding and smiling when the guy takes the photo. "Thanks." He says and you nod, watching him walk off before you sit down and wait for Dieter.

When his food finally comes up, Dieter grabs his tray and remembers to thank the girl. Turning and finding you again before walking over. “Enjoying the fans?”

You shrug, "all par for the course. Don't get to be rich and famous without having the cons of the job, right?" You say as you take a sip of your coffee and wrinkle your nose. "Oh God. Don't tell me I have your tastebuds." You moan, wanting to enjoy your pumpkin spiced latte and not his shitty coffee taste.

Dieter picks up his own order and takes a sip, wrinkling his nose. “This is fucking gross, you can’t tell me that we actually drink the coffee from here.”

You switch the cups, “here. I think our taste buds have stayed in the body.” You roll your eyes, “we always have coffee from here. Try this.” You order, pointing at the cup.

He’s suspicious but he takes the cup and sniffs it. “Smells good.” He grumbles and takes a small sip. His eyes widen and he groans appreciatively. “This is soooo good.” He moans, quickly taking another sip. “Yeah, we get our coffee from here from now on.” He tells you like it’s his idea. You roll your eyes, but he ignores you. “So where’s this woman who made us switch bodies? I know you’re gonna get pissy when I want to masturbate.”

Your eyes widen. “Absolutely not. You are not going to do that in my body.” You hiss and he chuckles, “hate to break it to you sweetheart but my body is like clock work. You are gonna be hard a lot and unless you wanna experience sex as a man, you’re gonna need to jerk off.” He says and you wrinkle your nose at the thought of jerking his cock off to masturbate. “Don’t you dare masturbate with my body.” You warn him before you glance around, “this woman had a badge on her bag. It was this place. I’m just grasping at straws.” You shake your head and sigh.

“And how did we end up in each other’s bodies?” He asks, shaking his head in confusion. “I mean, I’ve thought about being inside you, but not like this.” He smirks, knowing that you would hate that comment. You frown and it’s almost disheartening to see the lines on his face. “Fuck, I need to have a chemical peel.” He mutters and looks down at his breakfast sandwich.

You roll your eyes for the umpteenth time and look at him, “shut up. You’re handsome and you know it. Meanwhile…God, I could use some time in the gym.” You sigh as you look at yourself while he picks the breakfast sandwich to eat while in your body.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He snorts, taking a huge bit of the breakfast sandwich and chewing hungrily. “You’ve got a killer ass and your tits are naturally perky.” He smirks. “I felt. Yeah your thighs are thick but, let me be honest? Most guys, they don’t give a shit. Thick thighs are fucking nice to be between. It’s like a cushion.”

His words make your stomach twist and you are certain he’s trying to placate you but it’s still nice for Dieter. He dates models and actors so you know he’s seen the best bodies on the planet. “Thanks but, uh, it would be nice to be back in my own body. She’s not here. I don’t know what to do now. We can keep trying to find her. I’m so Damn sure she’s the reason we are in this situation.”

He frowns, unsure of where the fuck you’re supposed to find this person. “Didn’t my party have a damn guest list?” He demands. “What kind of people did you let in?”

“Me? Last time I checked, I’m your assistant, not your fucking security team. Your party planner had the list. She knew exactly who was coming in and out. Shit. She must know her. She knows. Otherwise she wouldn’t have been allowed in. We need to talk to your party planner.” You say, knowing that’s the key.

“You’re the one who has her number.” Dieter reminds you, but you just grin.

“You’re in my body, with my phone.” You remind him, making him look down at the phone on the table with a smirk.

“Yeahhhh, this is my phone.” He cackles, snatching it up and opening it up.

“Oh God.” You moan, hoping that none of your exes text you or he finds something private. “Her name is Kat.” You tell him and he searches for her number before hitting dial. You make him put it on speaker and you wait for her to answer.

“Oh God, what is he complaining about now?” Kat greets you with an exasperated sigh. “We did everything he wanted and more!”

Dieter frowns and shakes his head, hurt that his party planner is making him out like some kind of whiner. “That’s not fair.” He huffs and You elbow him. “Ow, what? Oh, hey Kat, listen I need to know about some woman that came to the party. Some kind of witch?”

“Witch?” She says and you narrow your eyes at her tone. She seems to know something. “Yeah. She works at that coffee shop.” He says as you nod. “Well, she, uh, I know her but why do you want to talk to her?” She asks warily.

“She left something at Dieter’s house.” Dieter lies suddenly. “A badge of some kind. I want to get it back to her.” There’s a pause on the other end of the line and he looks over at you for guidance.

You nod, “tell her that you wanted to talk to her after you get to know each other at the party.” You whisper, getting a little urgent for her to give you a fucking answer since you’ve been in Dieter’s body far too long in your opinion.

“I want to talk to her.” Dieter tells her quickly. “I got to talk to her at the party and want to get to know her better.”

“Kat is…she doesn’t like talking to people.” She says hesitantly. “I can give you her number.” She says and you nod, grabbing Dieter’s phone to take down the number.

Dieter huffs at the hesitancy and as soon as he says thanks and you hang up, he looks over at you. “She’s hiding something.” He predicts. “She is hiding something.”

You agree, “let’s call her.” You say, reading off the number that Kat gave you. “Call her. She must know what the fuck is going on.” You say, taking another sip of coffee and you sigh when you realize how badly you need this fixed. The phone rings and rings and you think she isn’t going to answer until she says “hello?”

“Hi, this is, uh, “ Dieter almost says his own name but he quickly uses yours instead, waving off your nod of approval. It’s not like he doesn’t play characters everyday. “We spoke at the Bravo Halloween party last night?”

“Oh hey girl. Or should I say hello, Mr. Bravo?” She says with a smirk in her voice and you narrow your eyes. “So it worked?” She asks, her voice hopeful and almost impressed with herself.

“Yeah. It’s fucking worked.” Dieter growls, “why the hell did you swap our - us over?” He hisses, knowing he can’t say anything in public.

“I wanted to teach you both a lesson. You can’t exist without the other and you need an appreciation of what the other lives like…until you learn to understand the other person, you’ll be stuck.” She says and you grab the phone.

“Please, for the love of God, fix this.” You beg.

She hums. “There is nothing I can do.” She confesses, making Dieter’s eyes widen. “What is done can only be undone by your own choices.” Instead of elaborating on how to make the right choice, she hangs up, leaving you and Dieter to stare at each other in horror.

“What are we going to do? I can’t stay like this!” Dieter cries, motioning to his body and yours. “I have a call time tomorrow!”

“You can’t stay like this? I - I miss my body. I have friends, family. I- oh God. What does she mean ‘right choices’? I don’t - shit. We gotta try and make the right choices.” You ramble like you even know what those choices would be.

“How should I know?” Dieter asks, nearly hysterical. “I didn’t do this! This is your fault!” He points at you accusingly. “You obviously told that witch that I don’t appreciate you, which I do, and now look where we are!”

You gasp, “you - you think you appreciate me? You snap your fingers when you want something. You never ever say please or thank you. How do you think your laundry gets done or your car is filled with gas? Do you think it’s fucking magic? And what do I get in return? You haven’t even given me a raise in five years.” You hiss at him.

“You haven’t asked for one!” He shoots back. “I didn’t know you wanted more money? How could I? All you talk about is wanting to get done with the day and leaving.” He pouts, a little hurt by that fact. “I didn’t know I needed to kiss your ass too!”

You rear back, hurt that he doesn't even see it. "I shouldn't have to ask. You should want to do it. I want to be done with the day because you're such an ungrateful prick. If you had even said thank you once I might've felt different about working hours upon hours with you. I'm not talking about kissing my ass...just to be appreciative."

Dieter frowns and shakes his head, obviously not thinking the same as you do. “I need to be appreciative that you do your job. Okay.” He shakes his head and wonders how you would react to the bullshit he gets to deal with. Constantly being criticized for not getting a scene right if it’s not exactly what’s in the director’s head, but he’s shit at explaining what he wants. “Well, thank you for getting me trapped in your body. Guess I’ll see what your life is like, right?”

You shake your head at him, "yeah. And I get to experience what an easy life you have. Reading some lines and getting everything done for you. Hard Goddamn life." You roll your eyes, unable to help yourself.

Dieter snorts and takes the last bite of his sandwich. “You’ll find out.” He promises. This latest director is an asshole and he’s been sending you off to do shit for him because there have been a lot of screaming fits from him towards the production. He had actually tried to keep you out of the line of fire, but now you can deal with Mark. He finishes his coffee and stands. “Oh look. More adoring fans.” He murmurs before he walks away to throw out his trash, relieved for once that it’s not him being harassed. You haven’t even finished your food.”

You watch him leave and sigh, knowing that arguing won’t fix this but his ego is too much to handle sometimes. “Whatever.” You mutter and look up as a fan comes over. You know Dieter wants you to complain but you won’t. You’ll meet them with a smile and you do just that, taking a photo and signing a napkin before you finish your now cold sandwich. You leave the coffee shop and find Dieter standing by his car, arms crossed. “Are you finished sulking now?”

“Whatever. Take me home.” He grumbles. “It’s supposed to be your day off, remember? Since I give you so few perks? You shouldn’t want to be around me. Go enjoy your lazy life.”

“Fine.” You huff, unlocking the car to get in and start it, eager to drop him off at your house and get back to his to figure out how to fix this. Maybe going to sleep will help. Maybe this has all been a bad dream. You soon pull up outside of your place and he opens the door. “Don’t go snooping.” You warn him, knowing he will want to look around.

He snorts and rolls his eyes. “So you’re privy to my entire life but I can’t know about yours?” He asks as he gets out of the car. “Don’t wreck my car!” He tosses over his shoulder as he marches away from you back to your tiny apartment.

You make your way back to his house, exhausted from the stress of the situation and your body is exhausted for some reason. You decide to take a nap, hoping that when you wake up…this will all be a nightmare.

Dieter sighs when he enters your apartment. It’s small and he flops down on the couch, huffing when the bra he put on you digs into his armpit. “How the fuck does she stand these things?” He grumbles as he leans forward to unhook it. Groaning in relief at the loss of the bra, he wonders how mad you would be if he masturbated.

To say you’re disappointed when you woke up would be an understatement. You are still in Dieter’s body. Even worse…you’re hard. It’s a weird feeling. Unused to this kind of arousal, you try to ignore it but you huff, knowing it won’t go away until you deal with it. Knowing that you can’t do that without permission, you call your cell phone to get hold of Dieter.

Dieter moans softly, his - your - hand is down the pants that he is wearing. His - your - fingers playing with the clit that he is delighted to find is extremely sensitive. Despite your warnings, he was always going to explore. Even though he wants to play with the toys that are in your drawer by the bed, sometimes manual is better.

You huff as the phone rings and he doesn’t answer. “Fucker.” You hiss, knowing that the blood running south won’t go away without help so you give in. Reaching down to unbutton your pants, you reach in and pull the hard cock out. Eyes widening at how fucking thick it is. “Dieter - no wonder.” You mutter, unsure of how to handle this from a first person perspective. You spit into your hand and wrap your fingers around Dieter’s - your - cock and groan at the sensation.

Dieter wonders why you don’t get your clit pierced. It’s so fucking sensitive. He groans again and he hesitates for just a second before he slides his fingers down and pushes two inside your - his - cunt. “Oh fuck, that’s- that’s better than rubbing a clit.” He groans, closing his eyes as he starts to pump his fingers.

You moan as you start to move your hand, twisting it slightly and you swipe your thumb over the head to gather the drop of pre-cum, bringing your hand back down with a gentle whimper. God, this feels good. Less work than masturbating your own body. You groan as you work your hand a little faster, enjoying how this feels.

He groans when the angle doesn’t quite work right. It’s harder to find that spot when he’s having to contort his wrist. Used to just fingering from a different angle. “Fuck.” He whimpers, sliding one hand up to squeeze his new tits again. Maybe he’ll get you a gift certificate at a piercing shop to show how much he appreciates you.

“Shit.” You hiss, finding the right grip and speed, loving how good this feels. You moan, loud as you work yourself up. “Oh shit.” You hiss again, loving how good this feels.

"Oh fuck." Dieter's eyes roll back when he finds that spot. "There it is, goddamn." He huffs, pumping his fingers inside his cunt.

You pant as you pump a little faster, spitting into your palm again and groaning as you squeeze the head every other thrust. “Shit. Gonna - gonna - oh fuck.” You groan, choking as you cum, spurting onto the shirt you’re wearing and you pump yourself through it.

Dieter is soooo fucking close. His thighs start to shake as he gasps. Surprised by the feeling of a female orgasm and how it is so different from his previous ones. Finally falling over the edge and crying out when his walls lock down around his fingers.

You pant as you slump against the bed, letting go of your cock before you sigh, realizing you need to clean up and get something to eat. Dieter - you - has an early call time tomorrow and you want to make sure you’re there early to figure out how the fuck you’re gonna bluff knowing your lines.

When Dieter comes down from the high that is natural from cumming, he checks the phone that had been buzzing. It's strange to see a different background but the facial recognition opens it and he sees he missed a call from himself, or you, in his body. He sighs and calls you back, not really wanting to talk but it might be important.

You huff when Dieter phones you back and you sigh, wondering what took him so long. You’ve cleaned yourself up, grimacing at the mess that is the male orgasm, and you have changed into sweatpants. “Hey.” You answer, “what took you so long to call back?”

"Busy washing your hair." Dieter teases as he looks down at your fingernails. You are due for a manicure, you need one. Maybe he could hook you up with his nail artist who does his before press events? "Something wrong?"

You narrow your eyes in suspicion at his innocent tone. “No. I just wanted to check in on you. It’s an early call time tomorrow and I need your script. Couldn’t find it. Where is it?” You ask, still curious as to what took him so long.

He chuckles quietly. "It's on the back of the toilet. I read it while I'm in there." He admits with zero shame.

You wrinkle your nose at that but make your way into the bathroom to find his script. “God. I didn’t know that’s how you learned your lines.” You tell him, unable to believe there’s much you don’t know about him at this point. “Anyway. I’m gonna try and memorize the scene you’re doing tomorrow so I don’t make you look like an idiot.” You say, knowing you’re responsible for his job. “I want a bagel from that place opposite the studio and a black coffee.” You give him your order, smirking slightly at the idea of him getting you breakfast.

"Yes sir." he hums into the phone mockingly. "By the way? Your pussy is really tight, I like it." He tells you right before he ends the call. It will drive you insane that you don't know what he's done and he won't tell you. Setting the alarm for the appropriate time and turning on DO NOT DISTURB so you can't call back again.

You stare at the phone in shock before you growl out “fucking Bravo.” You know he’s touched your body and you are pissed, even though you touched his. God, this is so complicated. Tomorrow, you’ll get through the day and figure out how to fix this.

****

“No. No. No.” The director shakes his head as you try to film the scene. You memorized the lines but you’re not an actor and apparently muscle memory doesn’t apply when you have the wrong memory in your body. The director points out the spot you’re supposed to stand on and you nod, knowing you’ll have to try again. This is torture, trying to remember the lines, act them out, and remember where you’re supposed to stand.

Dieter stands with his coffee, smirking slightly as you blow out a sigh. Maybe it’s petty, but it’s slightly validating that you are having such a hard time getting your blocking right. You had continued to insist that acting was just so easy. He takes another sip and the phone in his pocket dings, making him look away from where you are floundering, to glance at the change his manager is making to ‘your’ schedule.

You stutter as you try to remember your line, getting flustered until the director calls for a break. He comes over to you, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you today, Bravo, but whatever drugs or pussy has you flustered, you need to forget it and get your head in the game.” He growls, wanting perfection and you nod, “yes sir.” You feel humiliated as you make your way back to your/Dieter’s trailer.

Dieter follows behind you, recognizing the slump of his body’s shoulders. He waits until the two of you are alone in the trailer to speak since no one else knows that you’ve swapped bodies. They just think that he’s having a bad day acting. “Listen.” He sets the bag down and blows out a breath. “It helps if you count in your head. Let’s you keep track of where you are in your movements.”

You slump down on the sofa, “I just - I didn’t think it would be this hard. I- shit. The stress of this. The reminded cost of filming from the producers and the director wanting perfection. I don’t know how the fuck you do this.” You confess, realizing you were wrong.

“It’s an art, a craft.” He tells you. “It’s not just memorizing some lines and looking pretty. It takes a lot of dedication and practice. Even then, years later, an Oscar later, I’m still working on my craft.” He admits. “I spend hours in my room, alone, practicing voices, accents, and my body movements.”

You bite your lip, crossing your arms as you realize how difficult his job can be. “I’m sorry. I- I didn’t know. I never knew it was so hard. I thought it was just reading some lines and - shit. I really don’t want to go back out there.” You confess, rubbing your cheek that is a little rough from not shaving.

“You can do it.” Dieter encourages. “Stand up and I’ll work with you.” He tilts his head. “Or I can go tell him you’ve got the shits. That’ll work. He’s a germaphobe.”

You shake your head, "no. No. I - I can do this." You stand up and wipe your sweaty palms on your pants. "Teach me." You plead, not wanting to embarrass Dieter like this in front of the director.

He’s surprised that you are swallowing your pride. His - your - brows raise and he nods. “Okay. Stand right here.” He points to an air vent. “This is your mark. Say your first line and then move two steps to the right at full tempo.”

You follow his direction, finding it much nicer than the asshole director, and you count in your head after you say your first line. "Oh God. I'm hopeless at this." You groan, shaking your head as you mess up.

“No, don’t think like that.” He frowns slightly. “The more nervous you are, the more you will mess up. Think about something naughty.” He suggests, shrugging when you look at him like he has seven heads. “Seriously. I’m thinking about that and not worried about the possibility of messing up.”

Your eyes widen, "what do you think about?" You ask, wanting an example from him. You try to think about your ex but that makes you wrinkle your nose as you walk back to your makeshift mark.

“Normally I think about doing the scene naked with a hard on.” He admits with a snort. “Then I’m not going to pop a boner and I can think about that.”

You snort, "oh God. I- now that's all I'm gonna think about...you with a hard on." You chuckle, "well, this body." You gesture to yourself.

He smirks and winks at you. “How many times did you end up jerking off last night?” He asks. “Know it had to be at least once, because you got some sleep.”

You fluster, biting your lip, "I, uh, once. It was different. Easier than I thought it would be. Men have it easier to get off." You confess, "you...you did, didn't you?" You ask, eyes narrowed at him.

He laughs, finding it much easier to do than chuckling. “You mean did I find that sweet spot that makes your toes curl and your pussy soak the mattress? Of course I did.” He hums. “Harder to find when you’re doing it yourself. I have to admit that. But your fingers were the only thing I put inside that tight little pussy. Didn’t even do it in front of a mirror, although now that I think about it, I should have.”

You sigh, “of course. God, why did I think you wouldn’t masturbate?” You huff and cross your arms, looking down at how broad they are. You never really noticed that before. “Can we concentrate on the acting? Your career?”

“So wait a minute…” Dieter holds up your now manicured hands. “So it’s okay that you jerk my cock, but you’re mad that I did the same thing?”

“I- I- I don’t know what to say.” You confess, “I just - you use your body all the time. With everyone. Anyone. I don’t…I don’t do that. It’s weird that you fingered what I would consider my vagina.”

He frowns, dropping your hands and looking down at them. "I used your fingers too." He offers, unsure of what to really say. "I won't do it anymore."

You nod, “okay. I, uh, I need something. I don’t know what it is but I feel itchy and my palms are sweaty. I’m sweating.” You press the back of your hand to your forehead. “Why - I need water or something.”

He frowns and realizes that his body is going through some kind of withdrawal. “Here.” He moves over to a cabinet and pulls out an aspirin bottle. Shaking out a tiny yellow pill and holding it out to you. “Take this.” He orders, dropping it into your palm before he moves to get you a bottle of water.

You frown, “what is it?” You ask and he stares at you, “just take it.” You huff, knowing it’s some drug he probably takes a lot during the day so you take a gulp of the water and swallow the pill down. “God, do you feel like that a lot?”

“Stress, anxiety, feeling like you’re about to pass out?” He snorts and nods. “Nearly everyday. The xannie will help you calm down.”

You frown, aware that he had been taking drugs but you didn’t know that he suffered as bad as that. The anxiety was almost overwhelming. “I didn’t know you felt like that. I- I’m sorry.” You murmur, downing the rest of the water bottle.

He shrugs one shoulder, not looking at you. "Don't worry about it." He mutters. "Let's get you ready to film that scene."

You shake your head, “I’m sorry you feel like this.” You say, reaching out to squeeze his/your hand. “Let’s nail this scene.” You tell him, “then I think I’ll want lunch. You love that taco place a few blocks away. Think you can get me some tacos from there?”

He frowns, not really sure what the name of the place is or where it's at, but he nods. "Sure." He agrees, knowing that you have all his favorite places saved into your phone.

You head back out to the set, swallowing harshly as your stomach churns with nerves but you feel better after popping a pill. “You ready to go?” The director asks and you nod, “yes.” You bite your lip as everything is reset and you take your mark, inhaling sharply as you begin to act out the lines and remember the blocking.

Dieter watches you critically, wanting to make sure you don't falter again. Mouthing the lines that he had memorized along with you and he's proud that you only miss half a beat once. Hoping that it's enough to satisfy the mercurial director.

You complete the scene, jumping when the director yells cut and you wait for him to tell you that was shit but he didn’t. You sigh in relief when he says “good job, Bravo. Let’s cut for lunch.” He yells out and you exhale shakily under your breath.

Dieter smirks and moves towards his body to take his arm just like you would. "Okay, let's get you back to your trailer and I'll go get those tacos you want." He tells you, knowing from the look on his face that the pill has taken effect and you will be relaxed and hungry now.

You nod, letting him guide you to his trailer and you slump down on the sofa, the pill taking full effect and you moan at the thought of tacos. “Are you still here?” You ask Dieter, knowing that he won’t take kindly to your tone but you’re suddenly starving and tired.

He huffs and rolls his eyes like you would when he would say the exact same thing to you, but he knows that his body is ready for food. "Fine, I'll be back. Get some rest."

You hum, closing your eyes as you allow the pill to relax you enough to have a quick nap before Dieter returns with the food. Little do you know that Dieter is struggling to find the taco place you love.

“Where the fuck is it????” He hisses in frustration. It’s been impossible to find this fucking taco place and he looks down at his phone again and back at the street. “Fuck, fuck, where are you?”

You blink as you wake up, the su n shining into the trailer and you wonder how long you’ve been asleep. Surely Dieter would be back by now. You grab his phone, calling your number and waiting for him to answer. “Hello?” He answers and he sounds flustered.

“Everything okay?”

“I can’t find this fucking taco place!” He huffs into the phone, feeling anxious and confused because he knows it’s close. “I’ve called them six times and they aren’t answering”

You sigh, “it’s hidden in the plaza. You gotta go down the breezeway and it’s on the first level.” You explain, “are you parked near the coffee shop?” You ask and he nods. “Then it’s the next building.”

“Really? Fuck.” He sighs, “thank you, I’ve been tearing your pretty hair out.” He admits before he repeats back your food order. “I’ll be back to set as quick as I can.”

“Oh can you get some coffee on the way back from the place next door? I want a black coffee.” You say, annoyed that you still have Dieter’s taste buds.

He chuckles, aware that you are annoyed but he agrees. “One black coffee coming up.” He promises before rushing down the breezeway to get the tacos.

You wait for Dieter to return, grabbing your script to try the next scene since you’re alone. You say the lines and walk the blocking, counting in your head. You try over and over, working on the inflections in Dieter’s voice.

Finally after waiting for way too long for tacos, Dieter is back in the car and heading towards the set. Knowing that he is running behind and you will have to be back out there soon. He wants you to be able to rest and hopefully he can go over the lines with you again. It's amazing how much time it takes to get everything done and he has to admit you're right, traffic is way too busy to expect things right away.

You look up when Dieter arrives back with your food. You’re starving and the pill effect is waning. God, his resistance to drugs is ridiculous. You groan when he sets the food down, “you took forever.” You whine slightly, grabbing the box to open it with a moan.

He rolls his eyes and sets the black coffee down. “Yeah. I know. Fucking restaurant was hidden, how was I supposed to know that?” He grumbles, not even hungry himself, just needing the coffee he had gotten for himself.

You dig into the food, groaning and licking your fingers as you savor the food. “I’ve been practicing while you’ve been gone for the next scene.” You reveal, “can’t have you looking bad again. I don’t wanna ruin your career.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Dieter snorts. “They will just think I’m high.” He admits, knowing you are fully aware of his reputation. “Oh shit!” His eyes widen, and he motions towards your/his phone. “You need to text Monique and tell her not to come over tonight.” He urges. “Do it now.”

Your eyes widen, “what?” You ask with a mouth full of taco and he grabs his phone, holding it up to your face to unlock it so he can type away. “Who’s Monique?” You question, knowing you’ve never heard of her.

Dieter feels his cheeks heat up. Biting his lip and looking away for a moment. “She’s my….” He mumbles the last word too low for you to hear.

“She’s what?” You demand, making him huff.

“She’s my dominatrix!” He nearly shouts.

Your eyes widen, “she - you have a - oh my God.” You nearly choke on the taco, in shock at his confession and you grab your water to swallow down the bite. “Why do you have one of those?” You ask, patting your chest.

Now he understands the term ‘want to shrivel up and die’. “Everyone want to fuck an actor. But I want- I need - to just let go, you know? To just let someone else be in control. To - to order me around. I actually like giving pleasure.”

Your eyes widen, “oh wow. I, uh, wow. I didn’t know…I mean, I guess I get it. Wanting to be out of control and have someone make all the decisions. It sounds quite nice actually.” You confess, knowing your own life is hectic. “I, uh, I think I owe you an apology. I didn’t realize how hard acting actually is.” You confess, setting your water down.

He nearly sags in relief that you don’t judge him. He had taken great pains to keep that a secret from everyone, even you. “Your job is a lot harder too.” He admits quietly. “I’m sorry, I owe you a lot of kudos and thanks for keeping my life sane.”

You nod, reaching out to take your/his hand. “I think both of us didn’t know what the other’s job involved. I have a new appreciation of your work…of you.” You admit, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry I was a bitch before.”

“I was an asshole.” Dieter can admit that, he often is. “We’ll get through this.” He promises, even though he doesn’t have a clue how.

You sigh, looking down at your food. "I hope so." You murmur, knowing that neither of you can fix this. The witch hasn't informed you on how to fix it so at this point, it looks like you're stuck in his body. "Anyway. Let's finish eating and then I want to go over the lines. Can't have Dieter Bravo looking like he doesn't know what he's doing." You chuckle softly.

He laughs and nods. “Of course, can’t have it looking like I’m not a professional.” He scoffs. “I’ll help you get through the day’s shoot.”

****

It’s been a week since you’ve been in Dieter’s body and it’s hard to admit it but it’s hard work being a movie star. When he’s finished shooting for the week, he’s going to press events or you have to go to a restaurant for PR with some model. It was difficult to get out of sex but you managed it with the eager model who didn’t have a lot of brain cells. It’s exhausting and your new body has been going through withdrawals so you take the drugs and enjoy the peace and quiet when you finally get some time to relax.

Dieter is exhausted, never complaining though, but it seems like you never sleep. On top of all the shit he asks you to do, his manager and his agent all send you shit to make sure he does. It seems like the phone never stops buzzing. He opens the door to his house and sighs, missing his comfort zone despite your place being comfortable. “Fuck, I’m back!” He calls out. “I got dinner and vodka!”

“Thank fuck!” You moan, shifting off of the bed to find him with the food. “I’m starving. God, today was a long day. That damn model…I had to go have coffee with her and she has literally one brain cell. I tried to talk to her about the movie industry and she couldn’t grasp it.” You roll your eyes as you walk into the kitchen.

Dieter snorts and sets down the food when he gets into the room. “She’s been told all her life that she didn’t need to be smart, because she was pretty.” He reminds you. “Doesn’t matter that beauty fades, huh?”

You chuckle, “isn’t that the truth. Good thing you’ve aged well.” You tell him, reaching up to touch your/his face. “Look just like you did when you filmed Hunger Strike…apart from the new tattoos.” You say and gesture to your arm.

“Rebellion.” Dieter smirks at the tattoos that he’s seen on his body more since he’s not been in it. “They wanted me to quote ‘be a blank canvas’, so I got dark, bold tattoos.”

You chuckle, “sounds like you. Always rebellious. It’s weird…being in your body and looking at mine. Makes you focus on all the imperfections.” You frown, opening the box with your food in it.

“What perfections are you talking about?” He huffs. “I’ve seen your body in the mirror a shit ton the last week and I have to say, this body is fucking sexy.”

Your eyes widen in surprise more at his compliment and you bite your/his lip. “I mean…I try to look good. It’s hard to work out or keep healthy when I’m running around after you.” You confess.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes. “I’ll- when we get back to our own bodies, I’ll make sure you get more time to yourself.” He promises. “Away from me.”

You nod, reaching for his/your hand, “it’s okay. I think we have both learned a lot about each other this past week.” You murmur, looking into your own eyes but somehow, you can see his personality shining through. Your annoyance towards your boss shifted somehow and you don’t know when it did but you feel softer towards him, you understand him more.

“We have.” Dieter agrees, looking down at your joined hands and feels his heart start to pound. Those thoughts he’s had during this time once again sounding in his mind. “I think- you’re amazing.”

“You do?” You ask, eyes wide as you stare at him.

“Yeah. I realize how much you do for me and…and how I didn’t pay attention to how amazing you are.” He confesses and you swallow harshly, “I didn’t know how hard your life is. I thought it was just easy. Reading lines. I didn’t - I didn’t know how incredibly talented you are and how kind you can be.”

Dieter shrugs slightly, embarrassed. Since things have progressed longer than a day, you’ve had several people contact you/him asking for money or favors. He understands it can be a lot. “Is it weird that I want to kiss you?” He asks instead.

You bite your lip, “kinda? I mean…we would be kissing ourselves essentially but yeah…I wanna kiss you too.” You confess, looking down at your hands. He’s gotten manicures since he’s been in your body and you have to admit that it looks good.

“We should do it.” He tells you, watching his own body move closer to him. “I want- fuck, it’s been so hard not to touch your body, baby.” He confesses breathlessly. “But I’ve - I haven’t masturbated since you got so upset at me.”

You bite your lip, knowing this is fucked up on so many levels. “I want to - God, this is so weird but I really want to fuck you….me?” You add with a chuckle, deep and chesty. “You want to go to the sofa?” You suggest, jerking your chin over to it.

Dieter smirks and nods eagerly. “You have no idea how badly I want to see what sex is like as a woman.” He confesses. “You have to thank me, the thought of being a real slut was nearly overwhelming but I haven’t touched a soul.” He holds up three fingers in a scout’s honor.

You chuckle, "it's gonna be a weird experience but I want to see what it's like." You confess, "I know what my body likes so...it should be fun. Might as well experience something while we are in this crazy situation." You shrug, reaching for his hand again to guide him over to the sofa. You sit down and he wastes no time straddling you. "This is so freaky." You chuckle, looking up at your face and you reach up to cup his cheek, bringing his face to yours to press your lips to his.

Dieter hums into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your neck and immediately sliding your body’s tongue into his mouth. It will be freaky but like you said, it should be fun. He definitely wants to show you what getting a blow job is like. “It’s like watching ourselves in a mirror.”

You hum as your tongues tangle together and your hands find your/his ass. Squeezing it and you can appreciate your own form in this moment and you love the way Dieter moans into your mouth. Your cock is starting to harden - something you’ve become accustomed to with Dieter’s sex drive - and you moan when Dieter grinds down onto you.

Getting wet is a sensation that Dieter loves and hates. He hates that it ruins the panties he’s wearing - he’s actually had to start wearing underwear in your body - and he loves it because it’s so discreet. No one could tell that he’s horny and he’s often wondered when you get wet around him. “I want to suck your cock.” Dieter groans, pulling back and flashing you a grin. “Like you said, I know what my body likes.”

You groan, cock twitching and you kiss along his neck, breathing in the perfume your mom bought you for Christmas that you love and you moan, fingers digging into his flesh even more. “God, I am so fucking horny allll the time.” You take on the whine in his voice and he giggles, turning to kiss your ear.

“Sucks doesn’t it?” He asks playfully. “Now you know why I’m always begging people to have sex with me. It’s- less, when I had Monique.” He confesses, “but I have a high sex drive.”

You nod, understanding him now more than ever before. “Maybe I can try Monique…see if I like it.” You tease, “or if I ever get my body back…I can try acting like Monique.” You tease and reach for the hem of his shirt, dragging it over his head and groaning at the sight of his tits in his bra. “Fuck. Never knew my boobs could look so good.” You confess and shift your hands up to squeeze them.

“They do look good, don’t they?” Dieter smirks as he looks down at them proudly. “I think I will miss these most when I go back to my own body.” He frowns slightly, aware that you would never let him touch them again after you switch back.

You bite the inside of your cheek, wanting to say that he's being hopeful. You could be stuck like this forever. You sigh and reach behind him to undo his bra, cock hardening beneath him as you expose more flesh and after you toss the bra aside, you surge forward to take a nipple into your mouth.

“Oh fuck!” In his own body, Dieter loves having his nipples played with, but like this it’s even better. He groans and grinds down on your hard cock. A cock he does know better than anything else, so he slides his hands into your sweats, amused that you had started wearing his ‘trashy’ clothes.

You moan against his flesh as he squeezes your cock, making you groan when he uses just the right amount of pressure. You know exactly how to work the body of the other person, your mouth sucking on your nipple before biting down, and his hand squeezing his cock perfectly. It’s weird and wild but it feels so good.

Dieter is in love with this. He knows it’s his cock, he feels it respond to his touch just like it does when he was masturbating, but he can’t feel it. You are driving his other senses crazy and he gasps when you bite down on his nipple. “So good baby.” He whines prettily.

You moan, hands sliding down to squeeze his ass, his hand working your cock and you want to feel move. “Take your pants off.” You rasp against his chest, “wanna - wanna feel all of you.” You tell him and when he shuffles off, you pull your shirt over your head and shove your sweatpants down, kicking them off.

“Fuck.” Dieter pants slightly, looking at his own body through fresh eyes. “I want- let me-“ he doesn’t even articulate what he wants, he just finishes stripping and drops to his knees. Leaning forward to quickly take your cock into his mouth.

“Oh my God!” You cry out, your hand grabbing the back of his head and you can’t believe how good it feels. “Shit. No - no wonder guys want this all the time.” You moan, cock twitching in his mouth as he takes it deeper.

Dieter hums, letting it vibrate around your shaft and swallows. Enjoying the moans and sounds he is pulling from you even though it’s his voice. It’s not like he’s never done this before, but there’s something wicked about doing it to his own body. Something that makes him want to blow your mind.

You pant, chest heaving at the sensations. Something you’ve never experienced before and you nearly lift your hips from the sofa, chasing his mouth. “Oh fuck, baby.” You moan, head tilted back as your eyes flutter closed.

He holds one hip, the other hand wrapped around your cock and he wishes he had a free hand. It would be between his thighs rubbing that sensitive clit. Groaning as he takes you to the back of his throat and then pushing past your gag reflex.

“Ho-holy shit. Oh my - fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You cry out as he swallows around you and you groan, reaching down to tap his head. “Baby. Dee. I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum.” You pant out, cock twitching in his mouth.

“You don’t want to cum?” He asks when he pulls off your cock with a pop. “If you- uh, go down on me, you’ll be ready to go again in like twenty minutes.”

You shake your head, “I don’t - do you want me to - in your mouth?” You ask, struggling to maintain control as he continues pumping your cock in his hand.

“Gonna swallow you down.” Dieter promises, wondering if you would swallow in the same situation. He’s never going to find out in his body, but he will have this memory. “Cum for me, baby.” He begs before he takes you back into his mouth and sucks eagerly.

You pant, eyes squeezed shut as you can’t hold off any longer. It takes moments before you’re cumming down his throat, cock throbbing and the sensations make your nails dig into your palms as you ride the intense orgasm.

Dieter moans, trying to swallow as much as he can but it’s too much too fast. The taste of his cum so much richer on your body’s tongue and he gulps you down greedily.

Your hips rock up to chase his mouth but he pulls back, cum dripping down his chin, and you whimper when he takes you deep again to clean you off. "Fuck. Oh shit." You exhale shakily, eyes closed as you slump against the sofa.

Dieter’s clit is throbbing, needing attention as he wipes his chin clean with his fingers and shoves it in his mouth. Wanting every drop he can have. “Now you know why I love a good blow job, how was it?”

“So good.” You murmur and notice the hungry look in his eyes. “Bed. Wanna - wanna eat you out on a bed.” You tell him, shifting to stand up from the sofa and you kick your sweats off and pull the ratty t-shirt over your head to expose your body. “Come on baby. Bedroom. Now.”

Dieter follows you, feeling excited. Wanting to know what this feels like. Experiencing something he never thought he would ever have. The house even feels different walking through it with you and he palms his tits as he follows along behind you.

When you’re in his room, you turn to grab him, lifting him onto the bed with a hunger that surprises you. You grab his thighs, spreading them apart and you groan at the sight of his pussy. Glistening with arousal. “What turned you on so much baby?” You coo, kissing along his thigh.

“Fuck-“ Dieter whines, feeling like you are teasing him. “Sucking your cock. It was so-so sexy watching you cum.” He whispers when your breath washes over his hot cunt. “Touch me baby.”

“It’s so weird. Pleasuring your own body but fuck, I kinda like it. I know exactly what I like.” You say before you lean in, sliding your tongue through his folds, groaning at the tangy taste of your arousal. You’ve tasted yourself before but never like this. “Fuck. I like this.” You admit and flick your tongue over his clit.

Dieter cries out your name, surprised by how good it feels. “Oh fuck. More.” He begs, sliding a hand down to tangle his fingers into your hair. “This is so fucking good. I can’t believe you don’t have someone just between your thighs all the time.”

You chuckle into his wet flesh, “trust me, baby. I would if I could, but I haven’t found someone to volunteer to do that just yet. Most men don’t even like doing this. They see it as a chore.” You reveal and lean forward to suck his clit into your mouth, moaning to let the vibrations go through his body.

“I love eating pussy.” Dieter groans, rocking his hips up. “Especially when they are on my face and sucking my cock at the same time. Everyone- oh fuck, everyone enjoys themselves.”

Your spent cock twitches at that thought as you lap at his clit and slide your tongue lower to push it into his cunt. Your fingers dig into his thighs, pushing them back so you can push your tongue even deeper.

“Oh fuck baby, eat my pussy.” Dieter moans, trying to rock his hips down so he can push your tongue deeper. Desperate to cum from the sensations, his fingers pinch his nipples and he moans prettily as you play your own body perfectly.

You moan into his flesh, loving how tangy the taste is as you flick your tongue over his clit and suck it into your mouth. Your fingers slide down until you are pushing two into his pussy and curling them while eyes focus on your own face but you see Dieter in your eyes.

“Oh shit! Oh shit!” He cries as the knot in his stomach twists tight and breaks. Heat and pleasure rushing through his core and making him shake apart under your tongue. Flooding your mouth with his cum like he had never experienced before.

You groan, loving the way he shakes beneath your tongue and you lap up every drop. Your fingers work him through it until you pull them free, cock hard and aching as you grind into the mattress. “Wanna fuck you. I have an IUD and I’m clean.” You tell him, wanting him to know your health, “want me to wear a condom?”

Dieter moans, loving the thought of feeling all of you - him. It’s all mixed together in his mind at this point. “I- I’m clean too.” He pants out, thinking about his own body. “Haven’t slept with anyone but Monique since then and she-“ he shakes his head. “I want to feel you. Please, I want to feel you cum inside me.”

You nod, shifting to kneel between his thighs, reaching down to wrap your fingers around your cock, pumping it and groaning as you look down at what was formerly your body. “Shit. My tits are perky.” You murmur, realizing that he’s right as you shuffle closer to rub his clit with the head of your cock.

“Aren’t they?” He huffs proudly, pushing them up in his hands and moaning when he squeezes them. “Fucking love them. And my dick is big.”

You nod, looking down at the cock in your hand, “it is. Gonna - gonna feel so good.” You promise as you slowly start to push into him, groaning at the heat and wetness. “Fuck me. It’s so tight.” You groan, shifting closer to push deeper inside.

“Oh fuck.” Dieter’s mouth drops open and his eyes roll back as you push inside him. It’s so fucking different than anything else, but it’s amazing. The cock stretched him out and he clenches down around you playfully.

Your jaw drops, “Shit. No wonder some guys can’t hold off. This feels so good.” You moan, inhaling deeply to try to control yourself from cumming too soon. “Does it feel good?” You ask, wondering what his thoughts are about this.

“Fuck yesssssss.” He moans loudly, wrapping his arms around you and dragging his nails down your back. “Want more. Fuck me.”

You nod, "yes baby. Shit. Yes baby." You murmur, leaning down to kiss along his neck as you start to move. Your pace is awkward, unsteady as you try to adjust to something you've never done before.

He can feel how unsteady your thrusts are and he starts to roll his hips with you. His legs around the back of your thighs, pressing against your ass as he encourages you. Moaning your name when you push deep and kisses your clean shaven jaw. You had started shaving his face since being in his body, especially since the director liked the idea of Dieter with a clean cut look.

“Oh shit baby. Feel - feel so good. So fucking wet. God, didn’t know it could be this wet.” You confess as you push deeper and start to find a rhythm. “You need - tell me what you need.” You plead, wanting to make sure this is good for him before you cum too soon.

“Put- fuck, put my legs up on your shoulders.” Dieter pants out breathlessly. Knowing that the angle will feel amazing. “I’ll- I’ll rub my clit.”

You nod, shifting to grab his ankles, lifting them onto your shoulders, and you moan at the way he clenches around you. “Shit. That's - oh God. Rub your clit, baby. Rub it. Need you to cum.” You beg, getting closer as you rut into him.

Dieter does as you order, groaning your name when the angle strikes against something perfect inside him. “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He whines, rubbing the little bundle of nerves frantically and wishing that he could articulate how good this feels. “Make me cum, baby. Wanna soak you.”

You grunt, rocking into him again and again, keeping the same angle, and you groan when he clamps down on you. The gush of wetness makes your eyes roll into the back of your head as the sensation makes your cock twitch deep inside of him. “Fuckkkkk. I’m gonna cum.” You warn him, rocking frantically into him until you freeze, stiffening as your cock twitches and you paint his walls with your hot seed.

Dieter moans again, breathless at the sensation and he rocks his hips down, wanting more. It’s incredible and he swears that if he has to stay like this, it wouldn’t be so bad as long as you both just stay in bed. “Fuck baby, so good, feels so good.”

You nod, speechless in your agreement, and you lean in to press your lips to his. God, it’s so good. Feeling like this. Makes being stuck in this body tolerable. “Fuck. I think I love you, Dee.” You murmur, knowing that this time spent in the other’s body has made you realize how it is and you admit that you’ve been harsh in your criticism of him. You understand him now.

“I know I love you.” He sighs softly, aware that he’s been falling for you this entire time. Living in your body and understanding you better than he ever could have before. Even experiencing your period had been something that made him admire you. Even when he was curled on his side sobbing with a heat pad on his stomach.

You lean in to nudge your nose against his, knowing that even if you’re stuck in his body, you understand him better than anyone else. You love him. Even with all his flaws, he’s an incredible man. Talented beyond anything you realized and you love him for all of it. “Whatever happens, we have each other.” You murmur, kissing him softly.

His legs fall down into the crook of your arms as you hover over him, enjoying the closeness. “We have each other.” He mumbles against your lips. He’s not sure what’s going to happen but it will be okay if you are with him.

You hum, groaning as you let his legs back down to the mattress and slowly pull out of him. You moan at the sight of your cum pooling at his folds. “Shit. No wonder guys like watching that.” You murmur, “I feel possessive as fuck.” You chuckle and shuffle off of the bed to get a wet rag to clean him up.

“You should be.” He calls out after you. “It’s your body.” He feels boneless after you fucked him and he wonders how it’s so different from when he’s the one working the cock. “Besides, my body, your body, you get to touch it anytime you want.”

You come back over to clean him up and grin, “and you get to touch me…your body whenever you want.” You promise and you hand him your shirt to put on once he’s cleaned up. “Want a snack?” You offer and he shakes his head, closing his eyes. “I’m tired. You wore me out. Nap time.” He declares and you nod, “nap sounds good.” You grab some boxers and shift to pull the covers back from the bed. Once you’re both under it, you pull him back into your chest, snuggling into him.

“Think you’re becoming a better Dieter than I am.” He pouts slightly, but too sleepily to really protest as he snuggles against you. “Night baby.”

You chuckle, “night baby.” You breathe him in and fall asleep curled around him, the exhaustion seeping into your bones.

****

The light shines through the curtains, having forgotten to put down Dieter’s blackout blinds, and you wince as you wake up. It’s early morning. You and Dieter slept through the night and you feel him curled around you. Unsure of when you switched positions, you reach down to remove his arm from your waist and you gasp when you see the tattoos and rings that aren’t on the body you’re in. “Oh my God.” You gasp out, your hand shifting to your chest and you choke when you come into contact with your breast. “Oh my God.” You say a little louder and you shift to sit up, looking down at Dieter. “Dieter. Wake up. Wake up!” You shout, shaking his shoulder.

“What? What is it?” His eyes peel open and he blinks several times, feeling the grittiness of the contacts. Frowning slightly as he sits up. He doesn’t wear contacts. “What happened?”

“We switched back!” You announce, shifting to straddle him, cupping his cheeks in your hands. “We are back in our own bodies.” You tell him, loving how sleepy he still looks.

“We are?” His eyes widen and he looks down, seeing tits on you instead of him. “Oh fuck! We’re back in our own bodies!” He yelps, completely confused on what is different now. “Holy shit, you’re so fucking sexy.” He intones seriously.

You fluster, your fingers caressing his neck down to his chest. “So are you and I - I know you now. I know you and I love you. I got the calls from your parents. The calls from your manager and your agent and your friends. I understand you and the way you are and I love you.” You declare softly, meeting his dark gaze. “Doesn’t hurt that you’re incredibly sexy.” You smirk, playfully pinching his nipple.

He shudders out a breathy whine and bites his lip. “I know you do so much for me. You make my life so much easier and I want to show you how much I appreciate it.” His cock, already hard, twitches under the sheet pooled at his waist. “Can I make you cum this time? Me in my body and you in yours? Do you want to have sex with me?”

You nod, leaning in to nudge your nose against his. “Yes. I want you to fuck me, Dee. In our own bodies. Wanna experience you.” You murmur before you brush your lips against his. He doesn’t waste time deepening the kiss, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head and you whimper into the kiss, grinding down onto him.

It’s almost disorienting to be back in his body but it’s comforting at the same time. Dieter twists and pushes you down onto the bed before he pulls away from the kiss. “So that means I get to show you my pussy eating skills.” He teases with a grin before ducking his head and wrapping his lips around your nipple.

You moan and sink your fingers into his hair. “You better make me cum, I made you cum last night.”

He chuckles against your skin, wanting to make sure you know that he had been paying attention when you had been touching your body. “I will.”

You sigh, loving how he kisses down your stomach as he settles between your thighs, just like you did last night in his body. “God, Dee.” You whimper when he kisses along your thigh, “I need you.” You whine softly when he continues teasing you, your pussy wet for him already.

“I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.” He murmurs as he kisses your thigh and then up your mound. “Just want to get a good look at this pretty pussy. So hard to see it with a mirror.”

You gasp when he pushes your thighs further apart and the cool air hits your overheated flesh. Wetness makes the cool air practically caress your skin. “Shit.” You whimper, shifting to look at his face as he gets his first good look at your pussy.

Dieter is in awe, his fingers sliding up and down the edge of your folds as he takes it in. “So fucking gorgeous.” He groans, leaning in and burying his tongue into your cunt impatiently. Desperate to taste you properly.

“Oh fuck.” You choke, back arching as his tongue dives deep and that infamous nose presses against your clit. “Dee. Oh God.” You moan, slumping back against the pillows as he starts to feast on you.

He hums, smirking into your folds as he tries to take you apart, lick by lick. Loving your sharp, tangy taste and pulling your clit into his mouth to suckle on it harshly and he moves to push two fingers inside your slick walls.

You cry out, clenching around his fingers as he pushes them deeper inside of you. “Fuck baby. Oh God.” You choke as he sucks on your clit, “baby baby baby.” You moan as he curls them and makes your cunt gush. “So close. Gonna cum for you.” You murmur, walls fluttering around his fingers until you clench around them.

He loves that you are so vocal. That you are pushing your hips down onto his face and fingers. He curls his tongue around your clit again before he sucks it back into his mouth again. Wanting you to cum for him, wanting to see what it looks like on your body.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall apart. A cry ripping from your throat as you clamp down on his digits, soaking them as your thighs close around his face, keeping him trapped and smothered by your pussy. “Deeee.” You squeal as you experience the intense rush of pleasure from his mouth.

He groans into your folds, loving how you squeal his name. Licking slowly as he works you through the pleasure until your thighs relax and he pulls back with a grin, smacking his lips.

You open your eyes to look at him, “come here.” You reach down to grab him, pulling him up to you so you can press your lips to his and wrap your legs around him. “I fucking love you. baby.” You murmur against his lips, “so much.”

“I love you too.” He promises, not having any issues pressing down on you and moaning over how good you feel. He loves how you feel with your legs wrapped around him. “Can I fuck you, baby?” He asks quietly, as if being in different bodies might change your mind.

“Yes. Yes. Need you inside of me.” You beg, his hard cock pressing into your thigh and you reach down to take him into your hand. His groan vibrates against your chin as you pump him a couple of times before you notch him at your entrance. “Fuck me, Dieter.” You whisper as he starts to push into you.

Elbows braced on either side of you, his eyes flutter closed as he slowly fills you. “Fuuuuuuuck.” He hisses. “It’s so good, both bodies. It’s amazing.” He opens his eyes and looks down at you in wonder. “How are you so fucking good? You’re amazing.”

You giggle as you caress his neck, sliding your hands up into his hair as he gives you a moment to adjust to his length. “You’re amazing. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. This - what’s between us - never could’ve seen it without being you, being in your body. That fucking witch from the coffee place…she - oh God.” You gasp as Dieter pulls out of you and slowly pushes back in, “God. Should find her and thank her.”

Dieter groans, kissing your jaw and down your neck. “Should. Owe her more than I could say.” He doesn’t try to set a speed record, he wants this to last. Wants to make love to you. “I love you, baby. Every inch of your gorgeous body and your brilliant mind.”

You tilt your head so he can kiss more of your skin. “I love all of you, Dee. Trash panda. Brilliant actor. Kind when you want to be. I get you. I know you and I love all of you.” You promise, “doesn’t hurt that you’re - oh God, right there - sexy as hell.”

He grunts, preening slightly at the praise. “There?” His hiss proceeds another thrust against that spot, moaning when you clench around him. “You’re sexier.”

“We are both sexy.” You concede, “gonna make beautiful babies.” You smile as he pushes into that spot again and your mouth falls open as your eyes close. “Fuck. You want babies?” You ask him breathlessly.

He twitches inside you harshly at the thought. Normally he would be running for the hills at the mere mention, but the thought of having babies with you doesn’t scare him. “Fuck yes.” He moans, rocking his hips harder. “Three- no, four. Boys and girls. Little monsters that look like you and act like me. Or look like me and act like you.”

You chuckle breathily, “four babies. Better get started soon, my love.” You tell him as he continues to push into you. “Wanna have your babies. I think you’d be a good daddy.” You tell him, caressing his back as he continues working you towards an orgasm.

He grunts, knowing that you will keep him straight. You’ve been amazing and he knows you will be a good mother. “Take out your IUD.” He challenges you. “Knock you up as soon as you do. Want to see you pregnant.”

You nod, “I’ll make an appointment.” You know this is crazy but all you can do is know that you know Dieter is the one for you. You’ve seen all of him, literally been in his shoes, you know him and you want him. Even the dark bits that no one else sees. “Baby. Oh. That’s - I like that.” You confess as his pelvis grinds against yours, rubbing your clit just right. “Gonna make me cum like that.”

“Good.” He moans, keeping his pelvis against yours as he grinds deep. “Want you to cum. Need to feel it like this. So good for me baby.”

“Gonna - oh shit. Dee!” You cry out as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him and moaning as you cum around him. Lights flash behind your eyes as you squeeze them shut and moan at the way he works you through it while you shake beneath him.

You’re gorgeous when you cum. Groaning your name, he tries to push his hips forward but your are locked down around him like a vice. His cock throbbing and he feels his balls pull up. “Gonna cum.” He chokes out, tumbling over the edge after you and collapsing against your body as he fills you.

You sigh, caressing his back as he rests his weight on top of you and you feel so at home. “So fucking good baby.” You murmur, kissing along his jaw until he presses his lips to yours, soft and sweet. “I love you.” You whisper as he relaxes above you.

“I love you too, baby.” He hums giddily, snuggling into your neck and sighing softly as he catches his breath. “What a fucking story we have.” He muses, knowing no one would ever believe it.

****

“DJ, hold still.” Dieter grumbles as he tries to affix the broken part of his eldest child’s costume back onto his squirming body. “If you don’t, I can’t fix it and you can’t go as The Mandalorian. You want to be Din, right?”

You smile as you adjust Ella’s outfit. She wanted to go as Padme and your other son, Sammy, is dressed as Darth Vader. Dieter is dressed like Han Solo and you are dressed as Leia. The youngest, Ollie, is dressed like Grogu. “Lemme try.” You say, gently taking over from Dieter as he struggles with the jet pack. You manage to get it fixed and smile, “there you go, my love. All fixed.” You stand up and grin, “now who wants to go get candy?” You ask and the kids cheer. The Sherman Oaks neighborhood is surprisingly kid friendly as people set up displays outside their large homes and have candy waiting - some pick the expensive shit from Erewhon - and some have regular candy. “Mommy?” Ella asks as you hold her hand while Dieter carries Ollie.

“Yes, sweetheart?” You ask as she looks up at you. “You and daddy fell in love on Halloween, right?” She asks innocently and you grin, looking over at Dieter who winks at you.

“Yes we did.” You nod and she asks, “why did you fall in love?” She asks and you bite your lip, knowing the truth is more than anyone could handle, especially a five year old.

“You wanna take this one, babe?” You as Dieter with a smirk.

Dieter bites his lip and hums thoughtfully. “Mommy was really pretty in her costume.” Dieter tells his kids, who look at him eagerly. “She made daddy realize that he wanted to kiss her.”

You giggle when DJ wrinkles his nose, “ewww. Mommy and Daddy kissing.” He makes a noise of disgust and the other kids all join in, making you lean in to give Dieter a soft kiss.

“And I wanted daddy to kiss me. Then we fell in love. And then all of you came along.” You say, knowing that this story will be better for them to understand. “Now, let’s go get candy.” You try to distract them and it works as they continue walking to the next house.

“That was sweet.” You murmur as Dieter wraps his arm around your waist to pull you close after he sets down Ollie and holds his hand.

“Mommy looks really pretty in her costume tonight. Shame you didn’t go with the other Leia outfit we saw.” He says, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh don’t you worry, baby. That’s waiting at home for me to put on after the kids are asleep.” You promise, a wicked glint in your eye.

“I can’t wait.” He chuckles. Since that night you switched back, there’s never been a time where you’ve changed bodies again and even though he wanted to thank her, the witch from the party never resurfaced again. So neither one of you could express how thankful you are that she had cast her spell over you, allowing you both to walk a mile in the other’s shoes. It had led to this moment and there wasn’t a Halloween party that Dieter would rather be at than this one right here with the four beautiful kids he has with you, his wonderful wife.

#pedro pascal #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo imagine #dieter bravo fic #bodyswap au

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thosewickedlovelies · 2 years ago

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Girl this is so??? I don't even know how to articulate everything I feel about this fic. Usually I avoid angst, but your Dieter is just so...poignant. like I know that however your dieter angst is going to hurt me, it's going to be in the right way. Maybe I just resonate with like, missed connections, things that don't work out but you just can't let go of, even when it's not good for either of you. 12/10 work

Also the smut. Fucking hot and perfectly Dieter

ONLY BACKWARDS

pairing: dieter bravo x you, dieter bravo x reader rating: explicit (oral sex (female receiving), pinv, references to unprotected sex, hate sex, light dirty talk (not degrading) tags: angst, age gap (reader is 34 and bravo is 48), hurt/comfort word count: 2.8k+ summary: it has been 6 months since you last heard from dieter bravo. this time he comes back to you with a black eye, and he asks for too much. it is just like always. a/n: i wrote this in about a day so if its a little funky, that’s probably why. unbeta’d. songs i recommend you listen to while you read (if that’s something you enjoy): american dream by lcd soundsystem, sculptures of anything goes by arctic monkeys, californication by red hot chili peppers, and conversation 16 by the national

Fourteen years and two days. Depending on the way you look at it, that’s either a long time or too little of it.

As you take a good look at the man who you share this age gap with, you aren’t sure where you fall on the spectrum.

Keep reading

#i guess perfectly this dieter specifically but either way #yes #dieter fics

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 1 month ago

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Closed Position: Week 5 (Rumba Part 4)

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

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition, Dancing with the Stars, would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble.

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on the show to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo.

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

Chapter Word Count: 25.2k (I know, I'm sorry!)

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence (not by or toward Dieter), past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

👉 Chapter Warnings: Dieter and Kat both being a menace, smut, fluff, and physical assault

Chapter Quote: “Use me, fucking destroy me, and put me out of my misery. Please.”

Dieter’s POV Early Saturday morning, I awoke from the best night’s sleep I’d had in some time. I laid there with my eyes closed, reveling in the soft citrus and plum scent that surrounded me as I snuggled against Kat’s warm body. I felt the need to pinch myself to make sure this wasn’t a dream. It was a vision that often danced behind my eyelids, but it never felt like this. It felt better than I could have ever imagined. The connection between us was indescribable. Sure, the release that came along with the sex was great, but it didn’t compare to the feelings and intimacy. I had never experienced anything like it before. It only further proved that this woman fucking owns me - mind, body, and soul. The scariest part is that I was willingly giving her all of myself. I didn’t second guess it. I knew I was falling hard and was suddenly open to dealing with any pain that might come from it. I wasn’t sure if it was growth, or if Kat just had that kind of effect on me.

Kat shifted in my arms, snuggling in closer with a content sigh. My eyes blinked open, now focusing on her relaxed face that was nearly nose to nose with mine. I took the time to study her features in a way I had never had the opportunity to until now. She had the faintest scar just under her left eyebrow, one small freckle on her cheek, and another on her nose. Her lips were full and pouty with a deep rosy color. They still looked a little puffy from the previous night’s exploits, which made me smile over the memory of the way they felt against mine. The sun was beginning to sneak through the gaps in the curtains, emphasizing the subtle copper undertones in the darker strands of her hair. I couldn’t help reaching to run my fingers through it, gently pulling the stray bits away from her cheeks.

A lazy smile slid across her lips at my touch, “I can feel you staring at me.”

The way her voice sounded gravelly from sleep was doing things to me. It was so fucking sexy.

“I’m sorry…I’ve told you, a work of art is meant to be appreciated. I can’t resist.”

Her thick lashes fluttered open, amber eyes focusing on me with a playful glint as she leaned forward to nuzzle her nose against mine before placing a firm kiss on my lips. She pulled away, laying her head back down as she reached to run her fingers through my hair. I grasped her arm, placing gentle kisses on the inside of her wrist before settling her hand between us. I reached toward her face, rubbing my thumb over her lips.

I couldn’t help smiling, “Your lips look swollen.”

She kissed my thumb, then smiled back. “Good. I guess I won’t need that plumping lip gloss after all.”

We both chuckled, before settling into a comfortable silence, taking each other in. Our eyes danced around each other’s faces as our hands began to glide over any bare skin they could reach. Kat’s fingers snaked around my neck, pulling me closer to her. I shifted, settling between her thighs. She wasted no time, wrapping her toned legs around my waist, hugging me tightly to her as she ran her fingertips through the scruff on my chin. My hand roamed the length of her body, feeling the softness of her skin against mine. We took turns placing soft kisses on each other's faces, noses rubbing together as we got lost in each other’s eyes. Kat gently sucked on my bottom lip. I couldn’t help the groan that slipped out as she smirked up at me.

“You’re so fucking perfect. You know that? You’ve absolutely ruined me for anyone else,” I mumbled against her mouth.

She let out a sultry laugh, her voice somehow lower as she spoke, “And I’m only getting started.”

I could feel myself getting hard as her warm center brushed against me, but oddly enough, I didn’t want to escalate things. I just wanted to be wrapped up in her - enjoying her touch, her smell, and her warmth.

Somewhere off in the distance, I could hear my phone going off. I sighed, raising my head to glance over at the clock on the nightstand.

“That’s probably my alarm.” My hand ran down the side of her body, giving her ass a firm squeeze, “I’m gonna go get us some breakfast. Get yourself a little more sleep while I’m gone, Ok?”

Kat pouted as I leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. She settled back into bed, hiking the duvet up to stick one leg out as she cocooned the rest of her body in the heavy bedding. I could see her eyes peeking out as I stood to go shower and get dressed. I couldn’t fight the urge to lightly run my fingertips down the bottom of her exposed foot as I walked by. Her toes curled as she jerked her foot away and let out a frustrated huff. I chuckled, exiting her room to go to mine.

After getting presentable, I threw on a hat and sunglasses and headed out the door. I remembered seeing a small diner a few blocks north that looked worth trying, so I set out in that direction. I was in a bit of a daze after the evening I spent with Kat. I had admittedly been laying it on thick the last few days, hoping that something would happen between us. By Wednesday, I was certain there was something there after the hair straightening incident. I hadn’t intended for that to turn into such an intimate moment. I felt like I was really pushing it with the light grazes along her neck, but she seemed to be responding positively to it. Her reaction only egged me on. I didn’t even try to avoid flirting with her after that.

I wanted her to know where I stood, if she was receptive to it. She definitely seemed to be later that afternoon as I playfully pulled her into my arms and began dancing with her to the song she had been singing along with. There was no doubt in my mind that if my phone hadn't rang, she would have kissed me. It figures that the call turned out to be about Alec, because of course that guy was still cock-blocking us from the other side of the country.

One of the highlights from our week was when we popped into the plant boutique. I half expected her to hate it, but she seemed to genuinely enjoy herself as she listened to me rambling and browsed the merchandise. We had a good laugh over the penis cactus, taking the opportunity to let loose and be ourselves more than usual. After our near kiss earlier in the day, the experience had my emotions all over the place. I loved that she was making an effort to be involved with one of my favorite hobbies. No one else had bothered to even try or cared to.

I was trying not to overdo it with her, but I couldn’t resist the casual touches as we moved through the shop. She seemed to reciprocate them by mussing my curls at one point and leaning into me as we stood staring at the shelves. Then there was the moment where I ran my fingers through her hair. She seemed to momentarily get lost in my touch, closing her eyes and savoring the feeling. When her eyes opened and met mine, I was breathless from what I saw there. I knew she was feeling this too. I wanted nothing more than to tell her how I was feeling right then, but I needed it to be on her terms. I needed her to want it too and I wasn’t fully convinced that she was willing yet. It was obvious that she was feeling something, but I couldn’t work out if she was ready to act on it.

Later that evening, we rehearsed on the terrace, eventually being met with rain. After we gave up and I got us some towels, we had another moment that honestly took me off guard. I was eager to get her dry and warm once I realized she was shivering, but I did not expect her to lean into me like she did. My heart was pounding out of my chest as I wrapped my arms around her from behind and rested my cheek against the side of her head. We were definitely edging into new territory in that moment. The tension between us was palpable. I could tell she was sensing it too as she seemed lost in thought, almost stuck - afraid to initiate things further, but also not wanting to end it. She eventually did though, pulling away to head to her room for the night. I was disappointed, but I knew she needed her space. I would give her as much as she needed.

That following morning, I had been lying in bed doing my morning scroll through social media when I got a message notification from Evan. He had forwarded me a post with the text “FYI”. I wasn’t sure what I was looking at first. All I could see was two people kissing from a distance, but then I clicked to view the post and swiped through the pictures. It was Alec and Lana. I felt my stomach drop. I was instantly worried about how this would affect Kat. At that point, I still didn’t know what had happened between them. I didn’t know if this would be a surprise or not. I was worried this would cause her to build that wall up between us again, but also, I was concerned that she would be hurt by it.

I was relieved to know that she knew about the two of them already. I could tell that she was hurt by the pictures, but she wasn’t letting it get to her. Luckily, it was our day to film the Dirty Dancing skit. I made it my mission to keep her laughing all day, making a complete fool of myself as we filmed.

The flirty atmosphere still seemed to thrive between us as the day went on, so much so that I didn’t even think about what I was doing when I kissed her on the forehead as we wrapped up filming. I tried to play it off as a friendly thank you but wasn’t sure if I succeeded. She seemed a bit stunned by it, causing me to worry that I took it too far. My worry faded when I caught sight of her after an attractive blonde had approached me about a date. She was watching the exchange, appearing to be anxious over our interaction. Once we were alone, I felt the need to make it clear that I wasn’t interested in anyone but her. I even went so far to say that she and Zee were the only women in my life. I didn’t know how to be any blunter about it without actually saying it. To further emphasize my point, I offered to take her to dinner that night. That seemed to smooth things over. Dinner went well, even though we did have to behave ourselves since eyes were on us.

Later that evening, she finally opened up to me about what happened with Alec. I honestly wasn’t shocked to learn she caught him cheating with Lana. I just wasn’t prepared for how she caught him cheating. I knew that had to be hard on her and I wished she would have confided in me sooner so that I could support her through it. However, I understood her need to process it. I was still the first person she had talked to about it, which made me feel good. I appreciated that she trusted me enough to confide in me like that.

The foot massage incident followed that conversation. I had to laugh about that now. I legitimately hadn’t intended to get her worked up the way I had. I just sort of noticed it happening as she talked to me. She wasn’t exactly subtle about it when she began to rub her thighs together. Curiosity got the best of me, so I started paying a little extra attention to a certain part of her foot that has been known to stimulate an orgasm for some people. I watched her cheeks flush as she squirmed under my gaze. I could see that her breathing was picking up as her muscles tensed. I was honestly shocked she hadn’t stopped me by that point. The moment her mouth fell open, I really thought she was going to let it happen, but then she jerked her foot away. I was amused by her trying to play it off and couldn’t help teasing her a bit.

The following day while I was at the studio rehearsing for SNL, Kat had gone to my dressing room to rest. I was happy she took me up on the offer because I could tell she wasn’t feeling the greatest, despite what she said. I had offered to come get her during our next break so we could rehearse the monologue. I wasn’t shocked to find her snoozing away on the couch. I sat on the edge next to her, briefly pausing to take in her sleeping form and admire how beautiful she looked. As I reached to shake her awake, she mumbled something in her sleep. I froze, hoping to hear more. I watched her lips turn to a pout. Something was clearly making her unhappy. I sat with my hand still extended, debating on how long I should wait. She snuggled against the blanket tucked around her as her pout faded to a small smile, then she mumbled something else. I could only make out two words, “Dieter” and “stay”. I thought my heart was going to explode at the realization that she was dreaming about me. Those two words gave me so much hope that she was feeling the same things as me. They were the driving force behind the way I handled things as the day progressed.

I was feeling further emboldened and wasn’t holding back by the time we all piled into the car to go to the blues club later that evening, not hesitating to pull Kat into my lap and hold her tight against me. Our faces were mere inches apart from each other the entire ride, which only increased the tension and spurred the innuendos between us. The heated glances continued to pass between us throughout dinner and I found that I couldn’t keep my hands off of her. She didn’t seem to mind, often leaning in to my touch or returning it in some way.

I was honestly shocked that we ended up on stage after dinner. Sure, I had been joking about getting her up there, but I never thought she would actually do it. I took full advantage of the moment and chose the songs strategically. I knew Kat tended to connect with music in a way most people probably didn’t. Honestly, we both do it. That became obvious to me early on as we planned out our dance routines. So, I knew the lyrics would get through to her and mean something. I could tell she had picked up on it, especially since she asked why I chose those songs. I ached to tell her how I was feeling, but this wasn’t the time or the place. I opted to keep my response vague but gave her enough to make her think. At that point, the only thing I could think about was getting her back to the hotel. I needed to be alone with her. My hope was that we might finally talk about things, given how the day had gone. However, I never expected it to go from zero to a hundred in an instant.

When we first started rehearsing after getting back to the hotel, it was obvious Kat wasn’t on top of her game. She seemed distracted. As we continued on, the atmosphere between us shifted. I had no doubt that she was willing to meet me halfway after seeing the way she was looking at me. Her touches had become more sensual as she closed the space between us to the point that there was none. I could tell she was hanging on by a thread and I knew I was probably pushing it to suggest that we keep dancing, but I wanted her to know that I was all in. I also wanted to make it clear that it was her decision. It always would be.

The moment she finally kissed me, I felt like I was having an out of body experience. It didn’t seem real. I had wanted it so badly for so long that I couldn't believe it was actually happening. I was set on keeping it soft and sweet so as not to overwhelm her, but then her hands dropped to the hem of my shirt and pulled it off. I was briefly stunned, shocked she was going there. I had to make sure it’s what she really wanted. I needed her to know that this meant something to me before we took it too far and ruined our friendship. The second she told me she was sure about it, I let go. I wanted to show her how I was feeling, to worship her like she deserved.

And worship her I did. I took it slowly. Learning how her body responded to my touch. She was so easy to read, eliciting quiet moans when I found the right spots. Her brows would pinch together in pleasure as she arched into me, seeking more. It was so fucking hard for me to keep it together so that I could take care of her. She had me on edge from the moment she kissed me, but I somehow managed.

I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I had sex while sober. It had been a very long time, but I knew without a doubt that it hadn’t been like this. I didn’t feel the things I was feeling with her. I had never felt them with anyone. She had awoken something inside of me and brought me back to life. It was scary but also sort of freeing. It solidified the fact that I was irrevocably in love with her, and I knew I would do anything it took to keep her happy and safe.

After we finished, I suddenly felt vulnerable, retreating into myself and expecting the inevitable dismissive attitude that I typically get from people afterward. I braced myself, waiting for it, because I knew that it would crush me coming from her. I should have known better though. She’s not like the rest of them. She cares about me and made it perfectly obvious from the start. However, some emotional scars are harder to overcome - always screaming at me from the back of my mind. It would take time and a good person to condition me away from that way of thinking. I wanted that person to be her.

The relief I felt when she asked me to stay was indescribable. It caused a flood of new emotions that I didn’t really understand. I tried to unpack them in the moment, but I couldn’t. Instead, I shifted my focus to caring for her. I wanted to make sure she was OK after our time together. Then it kind of hit me, what she had mumbled in her sleep, “Dieter, stay.” I suddenly felt more connected to her, realizing that maybe she understood things more than I realized. She confirmed it as we talked afterward. Alec didn’t stick around after either. It pissed me off, and further stoked my need to take care of her. I needed to show her that she deserved more, and I would happily give her everything. Even if that meant opening myself up to the things I was afraid of.

As I walked through the door of the diner, I wondered how this would go when we got back to LA. I wondered if she would want to be open about us or keep it on the down low for a time because of everything we were already dealing with. As I sat filling out my order ticket, I decided to suggest that we keep it quiet for a while. Mostly for her safety because I was concerned about Alec. He may not even care now that he’s moved on, but I didn’t want to chance it.

I handed my ticket to the lady at the counter, and she added it to the queue. It only took minutes for the food to be ready since it was all pre-prepared. I was a little shocked when she handed me three bags. It was enough to feed at least four people. I had been completely zoned out as I filled in the ticket, I couldn’t even remember what I ordered. I knew Kat was going to give me a hard time over it for being a little extra.

When I got back to the suite, I could hear the sound of the shower running. After setting the food down, I walked toward Kat’s room. She had left the doors to the bedroom and bathroom wide open. I smiled to myself knowing that she would never have done that before last night. As I got closer to the bathroom, I could hear her humming a tune to herself. Steam filled the room, fogging up the glass, but I could still make out her form as she ran her hands through her hair.

“I’m back with food,” I called out to her.

“Mmm, my hero. I’m starving. I’ll be out soon…almost done.”

I sighed, “Don’t make noises like that or I’m liable to jump in there with you, clothes and all.”

She giggled, “If we had time for it, I’d totally let you.”

I groaned, “Don’t be a tease…”

She scoffed, feigning offense, “I would never do such a thing.”

“Somehow I doubt that…” I said through a chuckle as I turned to make my way to the dining table to unpack our breakfast. Kat came out to join me just as I was finishing up. She was wearing a bathrobe and towel drying her hair as she surveyed the spread.

Her eyes widened as she let out a breathy laugh, “Dieter, what the hell?”

I shrugged and plopped down in a chair with a smirk, “I didn’t realize how much food I was actually getting, OK? It just kind of happened…but to be fair, the portions they gave me are not for two people. I said two, not five.”

She sat down beside me, shaking her head with a smirk as she piled food on a plate. We ate in silence, exchanging side-eyed glances and shy smiles. After I was finished, I slid my plate away and leaned back in the seat. Kat finished off her cup of coffee, then stood, coming to lean against the table in between my spread legs.

“I guess we should talk about…us…make sure we’re on the same page.”

My brows furrowed as my heart began to pound out of my chest. Does she not want this?

“What do ya mean?” I asked nervously.

She stepped forward, her hand gliding around my neck as she sat in my lap. Her eyes roamed my face, “I think…for now…we should keep this between us. I’m afraid Alec may try something if he finds out. There’s also Joe and Stacia…they wanted this to happen. I don’t want them to exploit it for the show. I refuse to let them. I want us to control the narrative.”

I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, “I can understand why you would want that…and I’m OK with it. I’ll follow your lead.”

Her forehead pressed against mine as she smiled, “I was worried you’d be upset about it.”

I shrugged and gave her a cheesy grin, “I mean, it’s not ideal…I’d really love it if everyone knew I was taken by an amazing woman...but I can wait until you’re ready. I’m yours no matter what.”

My smile faded, “I’d like to avoid drama with Alec as well since we have to put up with him for a bit longer. I worry about what he might do too... As far as Stacia and Joe go, they can fuck right off. I’m not playing their games.”

Her fingers twisted in my hair as she smiled at me, “Thank you for understanding. I do want everyone to know…eventually. I just want it to be on our terms. If it were to get out now, I feel like it would be chaos with all the hype around the show.”

I nodded, “I don’t disagree with that. Stacia and Joe would make sure of it…and we have enough to worry about as it is.”

She leaned in, giving me a quick kiss as I hugged her a little tighter against me. The moment was surreal, domesticated, and comforting. I wanted all of my mornings to like this, with her. My hand shifted to cup her cheek as her lips tugged upward, “You excited for tonight?”

I sucked in a heavy breath, “Umm, yes and no. I’m nervous as fuck.”

My fingers combed through her damp hair, “I’m happy you’re here with me though. I don’t know if I could’ve made it through this week without you.”

I tilted my head forward, giving her a soft kiss before pulling away, “Speaking of, we need to get going or we’re gonna be late for dress rehearsals.”

She shifted in my arms causing the front of her robe to fall open slightly, revealing the top curve of her breast. My hand dropped down so that my finger could tug the edge of it open a little more, pursing my lips as I playfully peaked inside, “We’re definitely gonna be late if you don’t go get dressed…like now.”

She laughed loudly, jokingly pushing my head away as she stood. I smacked her ass as she turned to walk toward the bedroom. She yelped out laughter as she went.

After much rushing around, we made it to Studio 8H just in time for dress rehearsals. Kat hung around to watch, seemingly amused every time I caught sight of her. When I had a free moment, I was at her side. We tried to act normally, but I’m not sure how much we succeeded. I couldn’t stop touching her. It wasn’t anything inappropriate, just small touches to her hand, arm, or lower back. I reasoned it wasn’t any different from what I would normally do. We were friends prior to this after all, and Kat didn’t seem to mind. The flirty smiles and intense stares were another story though. I had to watch myself with those.

The dress rehearsals finished around 1 PM. We had some time to kill, so Kat and I decided to sneak out for lunch at a nearby Italian restaurant. I threw on a hat and sunglasses, joking that I was in disguise even though that shit never works. Kat of course had to snap a picture for Instagram and make a joke about it in her post. After I saw it, I reached under the table and squeezed just above her knee, nearly making her dissolve into a fit of laughter which drew some confused stares from the nearby tables.

(More after the jump.)

After a long lunch, we made our way back to the studio so we could sit through hair and makeup. By the time that was done, we had a couple of hours before the first live audience show at 8 PM. Kat joined me in my dressing room and had the pleasure of watching me go through my pre-show warm-ups, which set her off into a giggling fit. The mouth stretches, tongue twisters, and lip trills in particular really got her going. Especially when I leaned in for a kiss and trilled against her mouth. She snorted out a laugh as she turned away from me, trying to contain her laughter.

Goofing off with her helped settle my nerves, keeping me focused on her rather than the task that lay ahead. Just for fun, I sat down on the leather sofa and pulled her down to straddle my lap so that she was face-to-face with me. I coaxed her to try some of the warmups, both of us giggling through it like fools every time she messed up a tongue twister or tried and failed to trill her lips. She never said it, but I could sense that she was nervous too. I felt like the distraction helped her just as much as it did for me.

Before we knew it, it was time to get dressed and make our way backstage for the first live audience show. I gave Kat a quick pep talk, before she disappeared to take her seat in the audience so she could roast me during my monologue. We nailed it, getting a good laugh from the audience. The rest of the show went as planned with no major fuck ups.

The minute the live audience show was over, the cast and producers convened to discuss any needed adjustments for the live broadcast and decide on the final order of the skits in the event something needed to be cut for time. Overall, everyone seemed to be feeling good about the plans and how the first round went.

Kat and I took a few minutes to chat and hang out with the cast. There were lots of other friends, family, and visitors milling around as there usually were before the live broadcast. The sight of one person in particular had me feeling anxious. Sophie West, an actress I had worked with several years ago, was across the room. Her eyes continuously searched for me as Kat and I socialized. I had never been interested in Sophie as anything other than an on-set hookup. It happened a few times after some late night cast parties, but once I realized she wanted more I avoided her like the plague.

We had just finished a conversation with Judy when the tiny redhead approached from nowhere to get my attention.

“Dieter, it’s so good to see you again! It’s been too long!”

My hand instinctively slid around Kat’s waist and pulled her closer, I’m sure she could feel how tense I was.

I nodded, “Sophie, nice to see you again.”

Her eyes briefly dropped to my hand on Kat’s waist before meeting Kat’s gaze and reaching out to shake her hand, “And I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are. I’m Sophie, Dieter and I did a movie together a while back.”

Kat’s brow arched. She didn’t look amused, “I’m Katarina, Dieter’s dance partner.”

Sophie chuckled, “Oh that’s right, you're on that dance show.” She paused, smiling mischievously, “Dieter’s always been such a good dancer. We spent several late nights dancing at cast parties, among other things…”

My eyes widened as I looked at Kat. I could see her jaw clench before she forced a fake smile and a polite laugh, “He is a good dancer, even better so now that I’ve spent many long days and nights helping him perfect his technique…”

Her tone told me she wasn’t just talking about dancing in the literal sense. Fuck me. I didn’t see that coming. Kat’s not gonna take her shit. I had to bite back a laugh.

Sophie didn’t look impressed as she turned her attention back to me, “So, Dieter, you wanna get together after the show to celebrate? Just like old times?” She asked with a suggestive tone. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“Sorry Soph, I don’t really do the party thing anymore. I’m sober. Also, Kat and I have a super early flight in the morning. So, we’ll be heading back to our hotel suite after the show.”

Her mouth dropped open slightly as she looked between us and nodded, seeming to finally take the hint. “Well, I’m back in LA most of the time now. Call me. We can grab dinner and catch up.”

Seriously? Give it up woman. I was beginning to get second-hand embarrassment for her. I gave her a tight-lipped smile and a curt nod before turning my attention to Kat, “You wanna go over our lines again? Looks like we have just enough time left to do that…”

Kat took the hint, laying her hand on my chest and she leaned in with a smirk, “Yeah, let’s go to your dressing room so we can focus.”

I could’ve kissed her right there in front of everyone, but refrained. That didn’t stop a heated look from passing between us though. Seeing her possessive side was making my dick twitch. Sophie seemed to get the hint at that point, awkwardly smiling before walking away.

Kat snickered, “That was subtle.”

I smiled sheepishly, “What do ya mean?”

She scoffed, “Our hotel suite?”

I laughed, “Oh, shush. You weren’t much better with that ‘perfecting his technique’ line. Besides, she wasn’t taking the hint. She’s been a little obsessed with me for years. I’m not tryin’ to give her mixed signals. Respectfully, she can fuck off.”

Kat chuckled as we made our way to my dressing room to get away from the crowds. I needed to decompress before the live broadcast and didn’t want to chance any more run-ins with Sophie. I also just wanted to be alone with Kat.

After we entered, I made sure to lock the door behind us, not wanting visitors. Kat plopped down on the sofa as I pulled my jeans off. She raised a questioning eyebrow as I sat down in front of the vanity.

I snickered, “I’m hot…I’m sorry. Figured you would’ve noticed by now that I hate pants.”

She stretched her legs out in front of her as she sunk back into the plush cushions, “Oh trust me, I’ve noticed.”

I started doing some of my warmups again, I could hear Kat giggling behind me as she snapped a few pictures in the mirror, “I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

(More after the jump.)

She smiled as she tapped away on her phone, I assumed to post the pictures on Instagram, “Oh, I am. This has been an experience.”

She dropped her phone down beside her, “I’m glad you asked me to come with you. I think we both needed this…to get away from LA and everything that comes with it.”

I turned to face her, “Do you think this would have happened between us if we hadn't come here?”

She thought for a moment, “Yes, I think it would’ve…but maybe not as soon?”

I smiled, “Thank god you agreed to come…or else I may have spontaneously combusted if I had to wait for you much longer.”

There was a knock on the door followed by the voice of one of the producers, “Dieter…just a heads up…we need you guys ready to go and backstage in 30.”

I sighed before yelling back “We’ll be there.”

My eyes met Kat’s, “You ready to do this on a live broadcast?”

She groaned, “Why did you remind me?”

Minutes later, I began getting dressed in my monologue attire. Kat wasn’t a fan of the bright yellow pants, but she didn’t seem to mind the blue blazer with nothing underneath it. I noticed how her eyes kept drifting down to the exposed skin of my neck and chest.

As I stood in front of the vanity, fiddling with my hair, Kat approached and squeezed into the space between me and the countertop. She leaned forward, applying more lipstick as she pressed her ass against my dick, slightly swaying her hips from side to side as her eyes met mine in the mirror. My hands sought out the globes of her ass to pause her movements, “Are you tryin’ to get me hard before I go on live TV?” She feigned a look of innocence. I laughed, “You’re a fucking menace…which I did not expect.”

I reached down to the hem of her dress, running my hand up the inside of her thigh, but she smacked it away, “No sir. You can have me after the show…when we go back to our hotel suite.” She paused, then wiggled her ass again, “I wanna take my time with you.”

I groaned, then away from her as I muttered, “Fucking tease.”

She turned to face me with a playful glint in her eye as she booped my nose, “You have no idea, Bravo.”

Before we knew it, we were making our way backstage. Our nerves seemed a lot worse this time, knowing it was a live broadcast in addition to the live audience. Kat and I stood facing each other as I grabbed her hands and playfully shook her arms, “Loosen up, Kit Kat. You’ve got this. We’re gonna be hilarious! The people love us!”

She laughed as I pulled her in for a tight hug and leaned in next to her ear, “Just think of me naked and you’ll forget all about the nerves.”

She laughed louder this time, “Yeah, that’s probably not a good idea. Though, your lack of a shirt definitely makes that easier to do.”

I winked at her, “Good, that means my plan is working.”

A production assistant approached us, “Kat, it’s time for you to take your seat.”

She nodded and smiled at me as she gave my hand a squeeze, “Good luck, Bravo.”

I took my place behind the double doors that led to the stage. At exactly 11:29 PM the weekend update skit began, then the first note was played by the house band as the announcer went through the opening credits. I took this time to shake off my nerves to the beat of the music until my name was called to take center stage for the monologue. I just needed to keep my shit together and focus for the next 92 minutes.

I went through the usual spiel of welcoming everyone to the show and promising an excellent lineup. Then it was my time to shine in endless self-deprecating humor.

“I’m Dieter Bravo, I’ll be your host for tonight. Some of you may recognize me from my endless tabloid drama, rumors of on-set chaos, or the completely unhinged interviews I’ve done in the past. For the movie buffs, you may know me from my Oscar winning role in Hunger Strike. I know, it was a while ago…but I’m still an Oscar winner…so suck it, Darren Eigen.” (Darren Eigen is the Director for Cliff Beasts 6)

That got a good laugh from the audience. I paused briefly allowing them to settle, then clapped my hands together to draw back their attention.

“Speaking of Darren…my most recent movie role was in Cliff Beast 6, but I doubt any of you have seen me in it because…well…no one watched it.”

Quiet laughter followed as a voice from the audience interrupted me, “You definitely didn’t win an Oscar for that performance!”

My brow furrowed as I played along, “Excuse me?”

A spotlight dropped down on Kat as she stood from her seat which triggered whoops and whistles from the audience, “I said, you definitely didn’t win an Oscar for that. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen. That’s two hours of my life I would love to have back. I can’t believe you would even admit to being in that atrocity.”

I laughed nervously, “Kat, what’re you doing? I said you could come watch, not provide commentary. You do that enough during dance rehearsals.”

She shrugged. “Sorry, it’s a habit. I’ll try to behave.”

I nodded, giving her a look of annoyance, “Sorry about that everyone. That’s my dance partner…which brings me to my current project…I’m participating on a little show called Dancing with the Stars. You heard of it?”

More appreciation sounded from the audience. I nodded along with a smile, waiting for them to settle. “You know, I’ll admit, I was nervous about that one. I’m not exactly a spry young thing anymore, but I like to think I’ve always been a decent dancer. I was pretty excited to hear my partner say that I had loose hips, which would serve me well in the Latin dances. I guess my mind-blowing thrust game finally paid off for something…if you know what I mean, ladies.” I shot a cocky grin and wink toward the camera.

Kat scoffed and cut in, “Don’t get too excited ladies…he may have loose hips, but he has no rhythm.”

The audience lost it. Kat was looking pretty smug over her remark. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, fighting a smile as I waved the comment off. In a split second I decided to get her back for teasing me earlier. My eyes narrowed on her, my voice taking on a suggestive tone, “Now sweetheart, you know that’s not true.”

That wasn’t the line she was expecting. Her eyes widened as gasps, whoops, and catcalls sounded through the audience. She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth as she shifted in place where she was standing. I was almost certain she was pressing her thighs together under that flowy dress. I held up my hands, shushing the audience, “Hold on now, get your minds outta the gutter. I’m talking about dancing here…you bunch of pervs. Geez Louise.”

That got another good laugh out of them as Kat narrowed her eyes at me. I made it through the last bit of the monologue with perfect timing and delivery. The show seemed to be starting off perfectly.

The Dirty Dancing skit went over well. The final product had turned out more hilarious than we originally expected. I managed to keep it together through most of the live skits, only breaking once. Overall, I felt like the show had been a success as I ran out to do the closing credits. Kat was at my side, my fingers laced with hers as I said my ‘thank yous’ to the cast and crew for inviting me to host.

I let go of her hand and pulled her into my side, “Special thanks to my Kit Kat for suffering through this week with me! This wouldn’t have been possible without her.”

I glanced down to see her face flush, then wrapped things up. The cast began mingling and hugging as they often did while the credits rolled. I pulled Kat in against me as she wrapped her arms around my neck, “Dieter, you were amazing.”

I chuckled against her ear, “Yeah? Did I get you all hot and bothered, sweetheart?”

She pulled back, peering up at me through her lashes with a smirk. She nodded. “Yeah?” I asked with amusement. She nodded again. I leaned back down next to her ear, “Do you wanna have sex with me?”

She chuckled, “Why don’t you take me back to the hotel and find out.”

Little Bravo stood to attention as I let out a breathy laugh, “Fucking hell, woman.”

We were interrupted by Judy who ran over to hug us both. The rest of the cast and crew soon followed. We hung around for as long as we felt was socially acceptable before giving the excuse of our early flight and headed out.

The sexual tension during the ride back to the hotel was stifling. We were trying our best to behave, but that didn’t stop us from sitting close together and sharing teasing touches while avoiding eye contact. Kat rested her hand on my thigh, slowly inching it higher with gentle caresses. I captured her hand with mine, causing her eyes to cut in my direction and narrow as I tried not to smirk. After flipping her palm upward, I set it on my leg to lightly rub up the inside of her wrist with my fingertips. I could feel her skin breaking out in goosebumps as she pressed her thighs together. She turned toward the window, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth as she let out a controlled breath through her nose. I could tell she was getting worked up. It was too easy to read her now.

Once back at the hotel, we entered the elevator. A small group followed us in, crowding us into a back corner. Kat took it upon herself to stand in front of me, pressing her ass into my groin as she leaned back against me. My hands gripped her hips, pulling her tighter against my hardness as we waited to reach our floor. We were the last ones left after a couple of stops. As soon as the door closed behind the last of the exiting occupants, my palm slid up the back of her neck, lifting her hair out of the way to place open mouthed kisses along the newly exposed skin.

“Mmm, you’re playing dirty now,” she purred.

My lips moved toward the curve of her ear, chuckling quietly as I sucked on the lobe. She melted into my embrace just as the elevator doors dinged open. She moved to exit, my hands reaching for her hips as I stumbled along behind her. She was fighting a smile, pretending to ignore me as she keyed in. She peered at me over her shoulder, giving me a sly smirk as she removed her jacket and walked toward her room. I took the hint, following behind her like the lovesick puppy that I was. She moved to stand in front of the dresser mirror, removing her earrings as I approached her from behind, pulling her against my chest and nuzzling my nose into her neck. I didn’t hesitate to deeply inhale her scent, not even caring if she knew what I was doing. It was like a drug to me now, causing me to salivate at the thought of tasting her again.

Our gazes connected in the mirror as my lips trailed up to her jaw. Kat suddenly turned, her mouth crashing against mine for a deep sensual kiss as she worked to remove my boxers and jeans. We broke apart only long enough for me to kick them off. Her hands found their way to my chest, pushing me backwards onto the bed. She stood between my spread thighs, smiling down at me as her fingers ran through the top of my hair. My hands found the hem of her dress, sliding under and up to grab at her ass. I arched a brow as my eyes shifted upward to meet hers when my fingers were not met with any fabric. Her smile widened.

I chuckled quietly and shook my head, “I can already tell, you’re gonna drive me insane, aren’t ya sweetheart?”

She moved closer, lifting her legs to straddle my lap. Both of my hands slid up her bare thighs to grip her ass and pull her closer. Our noses nudged together as she rolled her hips against my hardness, “You have no idea what I’m about to do to you, Bravo.”

My forehead fell forward against hers. I couldn’t help the whimper that slipped out. Her assertive confidence was so fucking hot I could have blown my load right then. Her tongue darted out, lightly licking up the center of my mouth before sucking on my bottom lip as her right hand snaked downward between us, cupping and gently squeezing my balls before rolling her fingertips in a wave like motion. My head dropped backwards, mouth falling open with a low groan at the sensation. That’s definitely something new. My head lulled forward, blurry eyes taking in the look on her face. Her eyelids were heavy, teeth biting into her bottom lip as she fought a smile. I could tell she was on a mission to completely wreck me, and it was working.

Her brow arched slightly. “You like that?” she asked in a teasing tone.

“Mmhmm,” I managed to hum out as I shook my head.

She leaned in and smiled against my lips as she began to rock her hips, still managing to massage my balls as her slick center slid backward and forward over my fully erect cock. My eyes nearly rolled back into my head as the tip repeatedly grazed her entrance with each movement.

My head tipped forward to lean against her shoulder as a low “Fuuuuuck” slipped out of my mouth.

Kat let out a quiet snicker, “You like that too?”

Her voice sounded sultry in a way I had never heard it. I somehow managed to whine out an incoherent sound in response, not even sure what I was actually attempting to say. Her free hand moved to the back of my head, tangling her fingers in my hair to pull it upward, tilting it so that her lips found my ear, sucking on the lobe briefly before whispering, “You gonna be a good boy and let me have my way with you tonight?”

My fingers gripped her ass tighter, causing the rocking of her hips to cease. I was so close to losing it before we had even gotten started. I needed her to slow down. She was pushing my buttons in new ways that I was nowhere near prepared for and I was about to lose my fucking mind. She was invading all of my senses - her touch, the taste of her skin, her fruity scent, the sultry sound of her voice, her words, the feel of her hot breath and wet cunt all overstimulating me like never before. I could tell she was enjoying herself from the way she had completely drenched my dick with her slick, which definitely wasn’t helping the situation. I took a deep centering breath and let it out slowly as she pulled back to look at me with arched brows and a smile.

I somehow managed to sputter out, “You can have me any way you want me, honey.”

A mischievous grin slid across her face, her hands resting on my shoulders for support as she shifted to stand between my thighs. Her hands reached down to pull my shirt over my head before she leaned in to kiss me deeply as she sank to her knees in front of me. Her hands got back to work, one around my cock while the other resumed the thing she had been doing with my balls. She leaned down, licking up the underside of the head before taking the tip in her mouth and sucking. Of fuuuuck, she’s gonna be the end of me.

I leaned backward, placing my hands on the bed behind me for support. My eyes slid shut from pleasure as my head dropped back between my shoulder blades. I couldn’t look at her. I knew the sight of it would be too much and cause me to fall over the edge. It was taking everything in me to fight off my impending orgasm as it was. I could feel that familiar tingling sensation creeping up at the base of my spine as my core muscles tightened. My breathing elevated as a sheen of sweat broke out over my entire body. I didn’t even try to fight the whimpering moans slipping out between my lips as she worked me over with her mouth. I somehow managed to crack my eyes open, only to be met with our reflections in the metallic ceiling tiles. I looked completely wrecked already. My focus shifted to Kat’s head bobbing between my thighs, and I nearly lost it. My right hand reached down, gently caressing her hair to get her to stop. She pulled away, peering up at me with wide eyes through her lashes.

“Sweetheart, you’re about to make me lose it before I’ve even had you.”

A rather smug smile formed on her lips as she moved to stand up on her knees and wrap her arms around my neck, kissing me gently.

“Tell me what you like. How do you want me?” she asked against my lips in a velvety voice. She was so fucking sexy and she wasn’t even really trying.

I gave her a small smile and chuckled, “I’m not very hard to please. Your mere existence is enough to send me over the edge these days.”

She arched her brow, “That’s not very helpful.”

I was feeling a little hesitant with her, sexually. I had a history of being adventurous in that aspect of my life, but something told me that wasn’t the case for her. It wasn't something that I needed to be satisfied. I was perfectly content going at her pace and letting her lead things. However, she seemed to sense my hesitancy.

Her eyes softened as she reached up to run her fingers through the hair at my temple, “I trust you, ya know. You make me feel…differently…when it comes to this. I know you’ll respect me. I want us to be able to communicate openly about what we’re feeling…and wanting. I’ve never felt safe enough to be like that with anyone until now.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding as my hands moved to her hips and pulled her closer to me. A smile crept across my face as I studied her eyes. She looked determined. I could tell she meant every word she said which caused a warmth to spread over my entire body. I suddenly felt the need to lay myself open bare so she could take anything she wanted. If I hadn't already known that I was completely in love with her, it would have hit me like a ton of bricks at that moment. She was being open and vulnerable with me, and suddenly I was no longer afraid to do the same.

“I don’t think anyone has ever asked me what I wanted…” I leaned forward, nuzzling my nose against her, debating on how far I should take things - how much I wanted to say.

“Truth be told…the only answer I can give…is you. I only want you…as much as you’re willing to give me…and I want you to have all of me. I’m yours.”

The air felt thick around us as she considered my words. I wasn’t just talking about sex. She owned every part of my being, and I wanted her to understand that. I wanted to tell her everything, but it was too soon. This was my way of saying it without actually saying it.

I felt her grip tighten in my hair as she closed the distance between us. The need between us intensified as our tongues tangled together and hands explored each other. Her mouth drifted down my jaw, teeth biting at the scruff before moving upward. That action alone had my dick at full attention and weeping for her.

“Have you been thinking about me when you’re alone?” Kat asked quietly into the shell of my ear.

I sighed, “Mmhmm.” I couldn’t help squirming against her abdomen for some type of friction against my raging hard-on as she licked up my neck. She murmured quietly, “What do you think about?” before tugging the lobe of my ear between her teeth.

I whimpered, struggling for a coherent thought as her fingers danced over my chest. My hands found the globes of her ass, squeezing to pull her tighter against me.

She nipped at my neck, “Answer me, Dieter.”

Seeing this side of her had my head spinning, I wanted more. My hands trailed up and down her sides as her lips continued to explore my jaw. I sputtered out a response, “I think about your body…and the way it moves…especially your hips…the control that you have over every muscle…the control that you have over…me.”

She pulled away, eyes meeting mine with a mischievous glint in them, “What else?”

I suddenly felt shy under her gaze. I couldn’t recall ever sharing these types of desires with anyone before. I was terrified she would be bothered by the way I had been thinking about her. Her hand moved to cup my face, “Tell me.”

“I tried to imagine what it would be like to have you moving the way you do on top of me…how it would feel…what sort of sounds you would make...”

She smirked, placing a chaste kiss on my lips before whispering, “Then let's find out. Lay on the bed for me.”

She pulled away to stand. I sat there a little dumbfounded with my mouth gaping open. It wasn’t like it was a crazy ask, but the thought of my fantasy coming to life nearly had me coming without even being touched.

Kat paused in front of me, staring with raised brows and her hands on her hips. Once my senses finally came back to me and I was sure I wasn't going to blow my load, I scrambled up to lay in the center of the bed. She chuckled, turning her back to me as she unzipped her dress. My hand involuntarily made its way down to stroke my cock as I watched her slide the straps off her shoulders. Her head turned so that she could glance at me over her shoulder, “I don’t remember telling you that you could touch yourself.”

I let out a nervous laugh, sliding my hands down to rest on either side of my hips while I waited for her. I was so fucking turned on by the way she was taking charge. She seemed to understand what I needed better than I did.

I watched as her dress slid down her body and pooled around her feet, revealing her to me. She hadn’t worn anything underneath it which only further spurred my need. My entire body was aching for her by this point.

She slowly crawled up the bed, trailing gentle touches and kisses along the way. Allowing her hair to lightly graze over my skin, sending shivers up my body. As she straddled my hips, she ran her hands up my chest, then drug her nails downward. With her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, she began to rotate her hips, rubbing her wet center against my hardness. My breath caught in my throat as she peered down at me with darkened eyes. She was so fucking beautiful like this that it had me frozen in place. My hands were still at my sides, fisting the sheets.

Her hand slid up the center of my chest then grasped firmly under my jaw, angling my face toward her as she leaned down to place an opened mouthed kiss on my lips before asking, “You wanna know what I think about when I’m alone?” All I could muster in response to her honeyed voice was a small nod as I looked up at her with wide eyes. I was completely dumb struck by her while also trying to focus on not coming all over myself.

That mischievous smirk was back on her face as she sat upright. Her hands moved to trace a path along her neck and breast as her body began slow undulations above me - her center absolutely drenching me with every twist of her hips. It had to be the sexiest thing I had ever laid eyes on.

She began to massage her breast, her smirk fading to a more sensual look as she continued, “I wondered what your hands would feel like gliding across my skin. I tried to pretend my hands were yours as I touched myself…but it was never satisfying enough.”

Her hands dropped down to mine, loosening their grip on the sheets and lifting them to guide their movements across her body. I was completely mesmerized by the sight as she let out a soft moan. “Definitely doesn’t compare to the real thing,” she added in a whisper.

Kat continued writhing on top of me as she showed me the way she liked to be touched, adding pressure to the tops of my hands and guiding them to knead her flesh in certain areas. The intimacy of the moment was almost overwhelming. I had never experienced anything like this. The trust she had in me to share this side of herself was causing me to feel emotions that were almost foreign.

She released my hands, allowing them to explore on their own as she briefly rose up on her knees, notching my throbbing head at her entrance and slowly sinking down to the hilt. My jaw fell slack as her wet heat enveloped me. I felt like my chest was going to explode as my eyes pooled with tears from the pure ecstasy I was feeling. I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from professing my deepest feelings for her. I couldn’t tell her that I was in love with her. It was still too soon for that, but I felt it just the same.

My hands gripped her hips as she leaned back to support herself on my thighs and began agonizingly slow movements, rolling her torso and hips as she rode me with abandon - giving me a show and the most amazing pleasure I had ever felt. I should have been embarrassed by the sounds I was making. It was guttural groans mixed with pathetic whimpers and near sobs as I fought the urge to come. Her soft hums of pleasure and intense gaze definitely didn’t help my situation any.

She must have sensed my impending release, slowing her movements to lean forward and plant her hands on my chest for support to give me some time to come back from the edge. My spine tingled and cock throbbed inside of her as I let out a steady chant of curse words trying to focus on anything but the goddess sitting on top of me. I stared at the mirrored ceiling, realizing how absolutely wrecked I looked. She chuckled, gently rubbing her hands over my chest as she took in my fucked out expression.

After a few deep breaths, my eyes shifted back to her. Her body looked dewy with sweat and flushed with arousal as she stared down at me. The sight of her had my balls aching for release. I couldn’t help the lazy grin that spread across my face as I reached up to cup her cheek, “You’re so fucking beautiful and perfect.”

She leaned into my touch, smiling at the praise.

“You’ve absolutely wrecked me, sweetheart. I don’t know how much longer I can last seeing you like this. I need you to come…I need to see it…to feel it. Use me, fucking destroy me, and put me out of my misery. Please.”

Her smile widened, “Be careful what you wish for, Bravo.”

Leaning on my chest, she began to slowly lift herself until only the head remained inside of her. Her cunt clenching as she did so, squeezing me so fucking tight as she rolled her hips. After relaxing, she quickly sunk back down to the hilt, only to repeat the movements - over and over again. It was a new sensation that I thought might actually end me where I lay.

Each time she clenched around me, it took everything I had not to explode. My head sunk back into the pillow as I slammed my eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the way she felt. My jaw clenched as I fought to control my heaving breaths and the urge to rut into her. I was absolutely unraveling underneath her control, and she loved every second of it. My grip on her hips tightened, stilling her movements. I could feel the sweat trickling down my face as my mouth fell open, gasping for air. I couldn’t look at her, because if I did, I was done.

Kat’s fingers trailed down my chest. “You doing ok?” she asked innocently.

I nodded, still panting, “Yep…just need…a minute.”

I could feel her eyes on me. Her tone told me she had a satisfied grin on her face as she watched me try to keep it together for her. After calming down some, I tilted my head to look at her. Our gazes locked as I guided her hips to rock against me, “I need for you to come. Please.”

My voice was pleading. I really couldn’t hold on much longer and she knew it. She began grinding against me, her clit rubbing against the wiry hair at the base of my cock. It didn’t take long before I felt her walls fluttering around me, her release slowly building. Her eyes never left mine as her body began to tremble before finally tensing. As her mouth fell open, I sat up, pulling her to me with one arm while bracing myself with the other on the mattress behind me, allowing me to snap my hips up into hers. She collapsed with muffled moans against my neck as I drew out her release and finally crashed over the edge with her. A low growl ripped from my chest as I came hard inside of her. The growl turned to whimpers as my body began to shake from the release. I fell backward to the bed pulling her to lay against my chest, not saying a word for a while as we tried to settle our breathing and heart rates.

After a few minutes passed, my arms snaked around her waist so that I could shift us both to our sides. I made a point to pull her closer against me, making sure she knew that I was here for her. Something about that moment felt vulnerable. Not just for me, but for her too. Neither of us were used to having this after. For the first time, it really hit me how much I had been craving her intimacy. Not just taking but giving too.

My face nuzzled against the top of her hair, inhaling her scent as my hand trailed up and down her body. She hugged me a little tighter and sighed contentedly against my neck.

I massaged at her hip, “Everything feeling ok? You didn’t overdo it I hope.”

She chuckled, tilting her head back to look at me, “I’m good. Are you?”

A dopy lopsided grin spread across my face as I reached to rub my fingertips along the curve of her jaw, “I am now…I don’t think you realize the effect you have on me. I’ve never experienced anything like this…like you.”

Her cheeks reddened at my words as she tried to bury her face against the pillow. I snickered, “Don’t go getting shy on me now, because I know that’s a lie…you little sex kitten.”

Her eyes widened at the comment as I took a moment to realize what I had actually said, “Oooooh, looks like you’ve got a new nickname…and you’ve earned this one.”

She snorted, “Fucking hell, I guess I did walk into that one.”

I leaned down with a mischievous smile and pressed my forehead against hers, “Don’t worry, it’ll be our little secret. I’ll only call you that when I’m horny.”

She laughed, “That’s all the time.”

I scoffed, “It is not. How would you know?”

Her fingers combed through my hair, “I’ve learned to read you like an open book this week.”

My nose grazed along hers, “It’s not all the time, but you do have a way of driving me insane without even trying. I mean it, you’ve ruined me for anyone else. I crave you…your presence…your touch. I’d be eternally happy only having those things. The mind blowing sex is just a bonus.”

She smiled against my lips before wrapping her leg around mine and kissing me. We went on like that for a few minutes until she finally pulled away with a sigh.

My brows furrowed, “What’s wrong?”

She rolled her eyes and huffed dramatically, “I really need to pee, but I don’t wanna leave you.”

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. I felt like my heart was going to explode over her words.

“I’m not going anywhere. Go…then we can get ready for bed.”

She groaned and rolled out of the bed, shivering slightly as she stood. She grabbed a robe that was thrown over a chair in the corner and put it on as she walked toward the bathroom. I too got up and threw on my underwear. After running to my room to get my toothbrush, I grabbed two bottles of water out of the fridge. Kat was coming out of the bathroom just as I came back into the bedroom. She smiled as I offered her a bottle of water, leaning in to murmur a quiet “thank you” against my lips before giving me a chaste kiss. She took a long drink before digging around in her makeup bag and pulling out a hair tie.

I gave her ass a little pat as I moved to the bathroom and began brushing my teeth. She followed to do the same. It was an odd feeling to share the space with her while doing such a mundane task. I couldn’t really recall ever having brushed my teeth or gone through my bedtime routine with someone, let alone someone I had just had sex with. It was domestic and intimate in a strange sort of way. I found myself wanting more experiences like this with her.

I realized she was eyeing me in the mirror with a smirk. After spitting out a glob of toothpaste, her eyebrow arched, “What are you thinking so hard about?” Busted.

I shrugged, then spit. “I was just thinking…I’ve never done this with someone before.”

Her lips tugged upward, “What, brushed your teeth?”

I shook my head, “I’ve never gotten ready for bed with anyone. It feels…I dunno. I can’t really put it into words.” I want this every night for the rest of my life.

Her brows furrowed before she turned to rinse out her mouth. When she was finished, she peered at me with a soft gaze.

“It’s a good feeling though…right?” she asked.

I nodded, “Definitely.”

Her hand rose to rest on my chest, right on top of my fluttering heart. My hand instinctively moved to rest atop hers.

“Are you ok? Your heart is racing.” That explains the light headed feeling.

I swallowed thickly, then gave her a weak smile, “Yeah, I’m good. Just excited to be in your presence I guess.” I fucking love you.

She gave me a skeptical look as she turned to pick up her brush and comb it through her hair. Then, I watched her fingers work the long strands into a simple braid down her back, causing me to randomly have an urge to learn how to do that. She seemed to enjoy when I had fixed her hair earlier in the week, and oddly enough, it made me feel closer to her. I wanted more. You’re down bad, Bravo. So fucking bad.

My fingers reached for the braid and rubbed it between my fingertips. I smirked at the thought of being able to do that for her.

“Do you usually braid your hair for bed?” I asked.

She shrugged, “A lot of the time…or just a messy bun on top of my head, but that usually doesn’t end well the next morning.”

She pulled a makeup remover wipe from a package sitting on the sink and began wiping her face. I watched her for a beat, still soaking in her nighttime routine. I was fascinated by it for some reason. Her eyes caught mine in the mirror and she smiled. I leaned in and placed a kiss on the top of her head, “I’m gonna go attempt to fix the bed. I think I pulled the sheet off.”

She laughed, letting her free hand grope my ass as I walked out the doorway.

“Better watch that or else you might not get any sleep tonight, Kitten.”

I could hear her muttering something to herself as I moved toward the bed. I couldn’t help snickering because I knew it was over her new nickname.

I began pulling the pillows off the bed so that I could put the top half of the sheet back on the mattress properly. When I pulled up the pillow on the far side, it revealed something purple wedged between the mattress and headboard that caught my attention. I crawled across the bed to grab it. I nearly snorted when I realized what it was. Then it hit me, she definitely wasn’t doing yoga yesterday morning. I fucking knew it. Was she thinking about me then? I felt my dick twitch and had to change my train of thought.

I scrambled to finish making the bed, then sat on the edge waiting for her to finish up in the bathroom. I was curious how she would react to me finding it.

As soon as she walked into the bedroom, she paused. Her eyes caught sight of the purple happy stick in my hand almost immediately. My brows arched up at her as I fought a smile.

“Where did you find that?” she asked nervously.

I tried not to laugh, “Under your pillow.”

She looked horrified, “And you just picked it up without knowing whose it was or if it’s clean?”

I shrugged, “I mean, it looks clean. I just assumed it was yours.”

She shook her head as her cheeks tinged red, “Nope. Don’t know where that came from.”

I clicked my tongue, “So, you’re telling me you’ve been sleeping with someone else's vibrator under your pillow all week and didn’t notice?”

She stared at me with wide eyes, seeming unable to respond.

“It’s ok, I know you were not doing yoga yesterday…If it makes you feel better, I beat off in the shower before I went and got us breakfast.”

I tried my best to keep a serious face as she fought a smile. I knew that would get her.

“It doesn’t bother you…that I have one of those?” she asked quietly.

My brows furrowed, “Of course not…why would it? Hell, I have a few myself.”

I could see the tension leave her body, now realizing for the first time that she thought I would be upset over it. That fucking asshole.

“It’s just that Alec was weird about it…said it created unreasonable expectations…and that it was probably the reason I had trouble having an orgasm with him. When in reality it was just him apparently, because I definitely do not have that issue with you.”

A goofy grin slid across my face. I liked the fact that I could get her off when he couldn’t. I motioned for her to come sit on my lap, she acquiesced, wrapping one arm around my neck as she did. I reached to cup her face as I spoke.

“That guy was a fucking idiot. They’re meant to be a friend, not an enemy… to enhance the experience for both parties. Sex is about giving pleasure just as much as receiving it, how you get there shouldn’t matter.”

Her fingers found their way to my hair as I leaned in, resting my head against hers, “Obviously what he failed to realize is that you get what you give. For me, I get just as much pleasure out of being the reason that you come undone as I do from sex itself…and ultimately the sex is better because of that. If you need a little extra help to get off, so be it. Everyone is wired differently and has different needs, but he obviously missed that memo.”

Kat sighed quietly, then smiled as her fingers twisted tighter around the strands she was gripping, “Where’ve you been all my life, Dieter Bravo?”

My stomach felt like it was doing flips from the way she was looking at me. She was literally taking my breath away. After closing the distance between us, I kissed her deeply. Trying to convey the depth of my feelings for her without words. I kept it brief, soon breaking away to meet her gaze with a smirk, “I’ve been waitin’ for you to find me, honey.”

It wasn’t a lie. I really had been stuck in an endless cycle of self-sabotage, waiting for a lifeline - a reason to get it together and figure my life out. I only needed to put in the work to meet her halfway and prove that I was trying.

Her tinkling laugh caused my heart to race as she leaned in to capture my lips with hers. She was so fucking perfect. At that moment I knew I would do anything to make her happy and keep her in my life, including staying sober.

With a groan, I pulled away, “I think I need to get you to bed. We have to be up ridiculously early for our flight.”

She puffed air out of her cheeks in annoyance, “Fine. If you insist on being responsible and getting some sleep…”

She stood from my lap, untied the robe, and dropped it to the floor with a sly grin before crawling under the covers. My head slumped downward, chin to chest, as I squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to ignore the arousal the sight of her naked body had caused. She already knew how to push my buttons in ways no one else did.

Once she was settled, I stood, moving to the opposite side of the bed before setting the vibrator on the nightstand and stripping off my boxer-briefs. I climbed into bed behind her, not hesitating to reach out and pull her against my chest, burying my face in the top of her hair to take in her citrus scent.

Within minutes, her breathing shifted to deep, steady breaths. It was a testament to how tired she was, but she would never admit to it. I laid there for a time, in the dark, surrounded by the scent of her…of us. For the first time, maybe ever, I felt content. It was a foreign feeling, but I could definitely get used to it.

As her body heat sunk into the depths of my soul, I dared to imagine what it would be like to go to bed with her every night and wake up together every morning. The strong desire for it took me off guard. Then the images in my mind shifted slightly to include a sparkling ring set on her left hand and a simple band on mine. This was another first. I had never considered giving myself to someone like that, but now I longed for it. I knew she was it for me and I wanted it more than anything, but I knew it was still too soon. It was too soon for the both of us. I still had shit from my past to work through before going there and she probably did too. I didn’t want to rush this. It needed to be nurtured and grow organically. I couldn’t let my impulsiveness get in the way.

With a soft sigh, my eyes finally slid closed. It didn’t take long for me to drift off with Kat wrapped up in my embrace.

Hours later, I awoke to Kat wiggling her ass against me. After squinting one eye open, I could see that it was nearing 5:30. I groaned, tightening my arms around her.

“Is there a reason you’re squirming?” I asked gruffly.

I could hear the smile in her sleep filled voice, “I can’t sleep.”

I sighed, trying with massive effort to ignore the morning wood she kept rubbing her bare ass against, “We don’t have to be up for another hour.”

I felt her hand slowly sneak down between us, her fingers wrapping around the hard length of my dick as I hissed through my teeth.

“You better be prepared to do something about that if you insist on waking him up.”

She let out a deep throaty chuckle, “I told you, I can’t sleep.”

She released me, her hand trailing up to mine, guiding it between her thighs. She was already soaking wet. It was my turn to chuckle as I leaned down peppering kisses along her neck and jaw, my fingers gently spreading her slick over the sensitive bundle of nerves that was already throbbing.

“It looks like my little sex kitten wants to come out and play.” My fingers slightly increased pressure as they danced around her clit. “Is that what you want sweetheart? You need me to play with you?”

A soft moan escaped her as she nodded. Her teeth biting into her bottom lip as she tried to hold in her sounds, failing miserably.

“Look at you, already being a good girl and purring for me.”

She let out a breathy laugh, “You’re so fucking ridiculous.”

My fingers slipped lower to her entrance, teasing. “I know, but I think you kind of like it.”

She shook her head in disagreement as I easily slipped two fingers inside of her, curling them against just the right spot and causing her to shiver as she began to grind against my hand. Small sounds still escaped her no matter how hard she tried to hold them back. Her eyes slid shut as she got lost in the feeling.

I licked up her neck, stopping to allow my lips to graze the shell of her ear as I echoed the words she said to me the previous night, “You gonna be a good girl and let me have my way with you this morning? It’s only fair.”

She smirked, turning to peer up at me through her lashes. It was enough to make my dick jump against her. Her smile widened as she arched back against me ever so slightly. I fought a smile, shaking my head in disapproval as I withdrew my hand from her wet heat. She let out a whiny groan as I turned toward the nightstand, grabbing her vibrator. She may have spent the previous evening edging me within an inch of my life, but I was determined to spend the next hour making her come over and over again until she was a quivering mess of tears from the pleasure.

I turned back toward her, tucking one arm underneath her torso and pulling her tightly against my chest. She giggled, dropping her head down against the pillow allowing me access to her neck. I wasted no time leaning down to place open mouthed kisses along her collarbone, clicking the vibrator on with my free hand to drag it against her nipple. She gasped at the unexpected sensation, knotting her fingers in my hair as I moved it to the other side. My nose trailed along her slack jaw as her breaths began to come out in soft pants against my face.

My lips found her ear again, “Show me how you like it.”

Her eyes met mine. She seemed almost hesitant at first, but eventually reached for the hand holding the vibrator, leading it downward between her thighs. She held my gaze as she guided the tip up the center of her slit, then proceeded to move it in tight circles over the small nub. She let out a heavy sigh, melting into me as her eyes drooped and her hips moved in time with our hands. Tremors ran through her body, each one becoming more intense as she got closer to the edge.

My gaze never left her face, watching as her brows pinched together and her teeth dug into her bottom lip. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. She struggled to hold her eyes open, determined to keep them on mine. I could feel her stomach muscles tightening under my arm as she arched into it, her breathing becoming heavier as she let out quiet whimpers. Her hand gripped my wrist firmly as I quickened my motions. She fell over the edge with a with a deep groan.

I chuckled, “You’re being such a good girl for me...coming already. Let’s see how many times I can make that happen before the alarm goes off.”

I turned the vibrator off as she lay there with her eyes closed, panting. I didn’t stop my movements. Instead, continuing to gently stroke up and down her center with the slightly curved head, spreading her slick and dipping it into her opening ever so often. I noticed her hips bucking upward just a fraction, seeming to crave more.

“Show me what else you like,” I whispered into her ear.

She swallowed thickly as she looked up at me, sliding her leg upward then lifting it over the top of my thigh, giving me better access to her dripping cunt. I smirked down at her as she shifted to grind her backside against me a little more, her hand dropping down to guide the vibrator to her entrance. She inserted it a few inches, the curved tip angled slightly toward the front. Her eyes clenched shut as she began to move it in and out - slowly. Always at the same angle and always just a few inches, stimulating that elusive spot inside. Her hand released mine once I got the motion down, allowing me to hit the on button before continuing. She gasped, her eyes drooping closed as her next orgasm began to build. Within minutes she was writhing against me, falling off the edge for a second time. Her body was trembling incessantly and covered in sweat. She had a blissed out smile on her lips as she came down from her release.

I gave her a few minutes, gently rubbing up and down the length of her naked body as her breathing returned to normal. When she finally opened her eyes, I smiled down at her as I reached to brush the stray hairs from her sweaty face, “Can I try it my way now?”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek, arching a brow as she gave me a slight nod, seeming intrigued by my offer. I shifted lower, notching my hard length at her sopping wet entrance from behind. I sunk into her, just a few inches - in and out, adjusting her leg over mine and the movement of my hips to get the angle right. When I heard her gasp and felt her press back into me, I knew I had found that spot again. I set a slow, but steady rhythm as I held her in place against me with the arm that was tucked under her.

With my free hand, I reached for the vibrator. Again, switching it on to the lowest setting and using the rounded tip to make tight circles around her clit. It didn’t take long before she fell apart again, and I was loving every second of it. My lips found her ear, “I want you to know…I’ll never deny you pleasure.”

Her face turned toward mine, our heads leaning together as she panted against my mouth. Her hand reached up to twist in my hair, pulling it tightly. I groaned from the sting as my hips moved against her a little faster, “You’re mine now…I’ll give it to you any way you want it, whenever you want it…without question.”

She suddenly tensed and moaned loudly against my lips, coming again for the third time without warning. I slowed my movements, drawing it out of her for as long as possible. I swallowed her gasps with a searing kiss as she continued to tremble against me. She returned the kiss with fervor, seeming more needy now than before we got started.

My hips never stopped, but I gave her a brief reprieve from the vibrator. Once I placed it back at the apex of her thighs, she began to squirm and whine.

“You got one more for me, Kitten?” I asked.

She shook her head, still panting, “I-I dunno…”

She looked absolutely wrecked, but I wasn’t done with her yet. It was taking everything in me to stay focused so that I didn’t lose it myself. I could tell I was getting close but was determined to hold out a little longer for her. I wanted to show her what she had been missing.

I set a relentless pace, thrusting a little harder and faster now. I clicked the button on the vibrator to bump up the speed. Kat turned her head, burying her face in the pillow to muffle the sobbing moans that she could no longer hold back. I could feel her walls fluttering around me again, she was close, but the tension in her shoulders told me she was holding back.

I nuzzled against her ear, shifting the arm that was looped under and around her so that I could grasp her chin to turn it toward me, “Look at me, sweetheart. I wanna see you.”

She twisted her torso toward me the best she could given our current position and captured my lips with hers. Her hand cupped my cheek as she continued to groan against my lips. Her hot breath coming out in a rush between kisses.

“Come on, Kitten. You’re so close…I can feel it. Give me another one,” I said in a soft, but commanding voice.

“I-I can’t,” she said in a near sob.

“Yes, you can, you’re almost there. Just let go.”

“I can’t…I…can’t do it…”

After a little more coaxing, she finally did. I didn’t stop or slow down. Instead, I went faster and applied more pressure with the toy. Her jaw tensed as she fought to hold back her sobs, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as she shifted to clench her thighs together, squeezing my thigh between hers. I somehow managed to keep the vibrator moving through it as her walls continued to contract around me - over and over again.

I couldn’t hold on any longer, now thrusting deeper to chase my own release as I felt a rush of her slick covering my hand and thigh. It only took a few more thrusts before I was falling over the edge with her, completely losing it over the intensity and duration of her latest orgasm. Mine seemed to be just as intense as hers, causing my toes to curl and making me feel completely euphoric as I got lost in her.

I collapsed on the bed behind her, gasping for air as she did the same at my side. I couldn’t help chuckling as I pulled her back against me. She turned, burying her face in the crook of my neck as she tried to get herself together.

“You ok? Was that too much?” I asked quietly.

She shook her head, “No…but I don’t even know what just happened. Was that one long orgasm or multiple?”

Her words bubbled into quiet laughter against my chest. I couldn’t help hugging her tighter against me and laughing along with her. She settled in on her back, staring up at me as her giggles subsided. Her fingers found their way to my hair like they always did, and she began scratching at my scalp. Her mood seemed to shift suddenly, her expression serious as her eyes danced over my face.

“You ready to head back to LA today?” I asked as my fingers trailed down the curve of her waist.

She was quiet for a moment, eventually shaking her head, “No, I’m not ready for this trip to end.”

I gave her a sad smile. I’m not ready either. “Why not?”

Her brows pinched together, “Honestly, I’m afraid of what’s waiting for us when we get back. Drama is gonna be coming at us from all sides. Stacia and Joe are gonna have us under a microscope now after everything that’s happened. At least here, it’s just us. I don’t feel like we have to constantly be on guard. Ya know?”

I tried not to frown but failed. I knew she was right. They weren’t going to make it easy on us. “It’s gonna be fine. We’ll get through it together. And it’s not like we’ll be under a microscope ALL the time. We can be together in private when we’re not doing show stuff. We just have to make sure we keep our hands off each other in public and you stop looking at me with gooey eyes all the time.”

She scoffed, “Excuse me!?!? I do not.”

I smirked, “Yeah ya do…have been for weeks.”

She let out a nervous laugh, “Whatever, Bravo. You’re the one with that problem.”

My smile widened, “Oh I absolutely have that problem. Admitting to it is the first step. You’re just so fucking perfect…I can’t help it.”

Her cheeks flushed, “Stop it. I am not.”

I chuckled as I shifted above her, caging her in to shower her with kisses through her giggles. We were interrupted by my alarm going off. My hand blindly reached for the phone on the nightstand as I hovered above her. After shutting it off, I leaned down to suck on her bottom lip eliciting a deep groan from her. I continued to pepper kisses along her jaw between my rambling words.

“I actually can’t wait to get you home…in my house…in my bed…I wanna cook dinner…and breakfast for you. Maybe snuggle on the couch and watch a movie…make you fall apart…over…and over again.”

Kat wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me against her center. Little Bravo was definitely taking notice. She sighed, “Dieter, if you don’t stop now, we’re gonna miss our flight.”

I snickered, “I can be quick too…”

She rolled her eyes and laughed, “That may be the case, but I don’t want you to be.”

I gave her one last peck on the lips, “Ugh, fine. I’ll go take a cold shower.”

“Can I…” she paused, seeming unsure of herself.

My brow arched at her, “You know the answer is yes…whatever it is.”

She laughed, her cheeks flushing as she asked, “Can I take a shower with you?”

I gave her a lopsided grin, “I thought we had a plane to catch?”

“We do. I mean it…just shower. Nothing else.”

I had never ‘just showered’ with anyone. Hell, I don’t even think you could call those showers at all. There was no getting clean involved. The idea of it had my heart racing. I wanted the intimacy of it. No, I needed it. I just wanted to be with her in every way possible.

My smile softened, “I would honestly really like that.”

I gave her a quick peck on the nose, then shifted to get out of bed. She watched me stretch as I stood, my dick was half hard and I didn't even bother to try and hide it. She chuckled, pulling the blankets back to get up. Her brows furrowed as she rubbed her thighs together.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

She snickered, “Yeah, you made a fucking mess of me.”

“Yeah? Well…you made a mess of me too. Pretty sure you squirted all over my thigh.”

Her mouth fell open, “Oh my god...I-Is that what happened?”

I nodded.

She looked a little stunned, “Well…that’s new.”

I couldn’t help feeling a little smug over it, “That’s what happens when you have someone that cares to figure out what they’re doing.”

She rolled her eyes and huffed out a laugh as she stood, “Shush you.” She paused, “Ugh, my legs feel weak.”

I chuckled, wrapping my arms around her middle for support as I guided her toward the bathroom. Kat got into the walk-in shower and turned on the water, adjusting the nozzles to get the right temperature before stepping under the spray. I stepped in behind her, snaking my arms around her waist to hold her against me as we let the warm water run down our bodies. She turned, kissing me gently as she reached up to run her fingers through my hair, making sure it was saturated before reaching for the shampoo. We continued on like that, placing light kisses and caresses as we took turns washing each other.

As she rinsed the conditioner from my hair, I began to feel somewhat emotional, and I didn’t really understand why. My chest felt tight, and I could feel a lump forming in my throat, but it wasn’t in a bad way. The only conclusion I could settle on was the fact that I could feel how she cared for me. It wasn’t fake. She wasn’t trying to take from me. I really felt like we were bonding in a way that I never had with another person, causing our connection to evolve and deepen. She was actually making me feel happy. It was overwhelming, making me feel breathless as she smiled at me.

We didn’t take things further, but the shower still lasted a little longer than it probably should have given that we were on a tight schedule. We had to rush to get ready and pack up so that we would make it to the airport on time. We barely managed it, but did make it. Luckily, the studio had booked us a set of seats in business class. Where we were situated gave us a little privacy, allowing Kat to comfortably snuggle into my side without prying eyes. She slept for most of the flight, citing that she felt completely spent from our morning exploits. I slept some, but mostly split my time between watching some cheesy movie and watching her. Watching her sleep seemed to be my new favorite pastime. There was something about seeing her cuddled up at my side, completely relaxed and unguarded. It made me feel even closer to her somehow, knowing this was a side of her that not many people had the opportunity to see. I reveled in every second of it.

Once we landed, she and I both had to make a conscious effort to behave ourselves, avoiding touching or looking at each other directly. It was obvious that eyes were on us as we made our way over to pick up our luggage. I wasn’t shocked to find paparazzi milling around as we moved toward the exit. They didn’t hesitate to approach us, attempting to make small talk about our time in New York and complementing our SNL performances. We smiled and politely went along with it until one of them began prying.

“A source has reported that you two were sharing a hotel room, is that true?”

Kat and I both tensed from the question. I could sense her eyes glancing in my direction as he continued to push for an answer. Sighing, I rolled my eyes at the guy, “Might wanna get a new source, dude. Not true.”

“Really, you were seen coming and going from one room together the whole time you were there.”

My jaw clenched as I took a deep centering breath. Who the fuck is feeding them information? “The studio put us up in a multi-room suite. We had separate bedrooms. We didn’t reserve it,” I finally said.

“So, you’re sticking to your story that you aren't together then?”

Kat scoffed and shook her head.

“Kat, do you have any comments on those photos of Alec and Lana that came out a few days ago?”

She tried to ignore him, not giving any reaction to the question at all as we continued walking. However, he kept pushing, each question about Alec getting more and more personal as he crowded her space to shove his camera in her face. I couldn’t take it anymore, moving to position myself between them as I gently guided Kat to the other side of me with a hand on her upper back. The pap tried to go around me, but I held out my arm to block him, “Dude, what’s your problem? Leave her alone or I’ll get security over here.”

“You’re awfully protective of her, Dieter. You sure nothing’s going on with you two?”

This guy was about to make me lose my cool, which I think might have been his goal. I had to remind myself that’s something the old Dieter would have done as I took another deep breath, refusing to give him anything to work with. Instead, I focused on getting Kat out of here. Luckily, we didn’t have to put up with them too much longer as the pickup exit came into view.

Once we made it outside, Evan was there waiting for us. I told Kat to wait in the car while Evan and I put our bags in the back. The paps were still there, with the one guy continuing to be an absolute asshat.

“Hey man, how’s sobriety going? You think you’re gonna stick to it this time? Have you ever been sober this long? What’s different about this round?”

He just kept going, on and on. I really wanted to punch him in the fucking face. My frustration intensified when I couldn’t get the bags to fit in the trunk. Evan could sense that I was getting worked up. He subtly nudged me with his elbow, “D, I got it. Just go wait in the car so this guy will fuck off.”

I gave him a tight nod, ignoring the camera and incessant questions as I moved to the back door to get in. The paps hung around, snapping shots of us in the back seat. Kat gave me a tense look, “I really hope this doesn’t become the new normal. This is fucking insane. Why are they being so pushy?”

I looked out the front window and narrowed my eyes on them as they continued to snap pictures of us, “I dunno. Somebody is obviously feeding them information, right?”

She sighed, “Have to be. I think we’re really gonna have to watch ourselves. They’re gonna be analyzing everything we do.”

Evan got into the driver’s seat, quickly starting the ignition and pulling out into traffic. Kat and I both visibly relaxed as we left the paparazzi behind. We didn’t move any closer together, but I did reach over to take her hand, entwining our fingers to rest on the seat between us.

“Sorry that guy was giving you trouble, D. If I had known that was going to be an issue I would have called ahead for security.”

I squeezed Kat’s hand a little tighter, “It’s fine, it was really just the one guy that was a problem.”

Evan nodded, looking at me in the rearview mirror, “Thank God for that…Anyway, how was your trip? Everything else go OK without me being there to hold your hand?”

I scoffed, “I can follow a schedule without assistance you know.”

Evan laughed, “Yeah, when you’re in the mood to do it.”

I rolled my eyes at him, “Zee still doing OK?”

He nodded again, “Yeah, she's a little mopey, but still feisty and still doesn’t like me. She’ll be happy to see you, I’m sure.”

I chuckled. It still warmed my heart a little that she didn’t seem to like anyone but me or Kat. I liked to think that maybe it was a sign of some sort.

Evan briefly glanced back over his shoulder in Kat’s direction, “Oh, Kat, the locksmith guy should be at your place just after we get there…said it should take an hour and a half tops to change everything out.”

Kat smiled, “Thanks. I appreciate it, but really you didn’t have to do that.”

He laughed, “I get paid to do what Dieter tells me to do, so yeah, I did. Really, it was no big deal.”

Kat shook her head at me, biting back a smile.

We drove in silence for a few minutes until Evan eventually spoke, attempting small talk, “So, aside from the crazy paparazzi, how was your week in New York?”

I couldn’t control the smile on my face, as I glanced over at Kat. She turned to look out the window, covering her smirk with her hand.

I cleared my throat, “It was good. We had a good week.”

I could feel Evans' eyes on my face in the rearview mirror. Tucking my bottom lip between my teeth, I too turned to look out the window.

“That’s it? Just…a good week?”

My gaze met his in the mirror, “Yeah. I mean…it was work. All week.”

His eyes narrowed on me. Fuck. He knows.

“You're being dodgy, D. What did you do?”

I laughed nervously, “Nothing. I behaved myself.”

He stopped at a red light, then turned in his seat to look between us, his eyes immediately dropping down to see our entwined hands on the seat. Kat and I looked between each other and Evan, wide-eyed as a huge grin spread across his face.

“I fucking knew it!”

I sighed and raked my free hand down my face, “Evan, please shut up.”

A horn blared behind us, Evan laughed loudly as he turned forward realizing the light was now green.

“Don’t worry, D. You know I won’t say anything. I’m so fucking excited for you guys though…greatest news ever! He’s been pining over you for weeks, Kat. I hope you know that.”

Fucking hell. “Evan, shut up. Please.”

Kat chuckled beside me, “No, Evan. Please keep going.”

Evan was about to say something else, but I cut him off, “Remember who pays you, dude.”

His mouth snapped shut. He huffed through his nose, “Sorry, Kat. He has a point.”

I looked at Kat with a smug grin, “For the record, I’ve said nothing to him. He just made assumptions. You can’t believe anything he says.”

Kat laughed at our banter, now relaxing some and scooting just a little closer. The three of us slipped into easy conversation after that, filling Evan in on our week and chatting about SNL. Kat and Evan took the opportunity to gang up on me and affectionately give me hell about my plant obsession. I loved that they seemed to be getting along and felt comfortable enough around each other to laugh and joke around. My circle was very small, so it was important to me that they got along.

Sometime later, Evan pulled into Kat’s driveway. We all exited the vehicle. Evan and I dug through the trunk, pulling out my bags to get to Kat’s. Evan was just shutting the trunk when the locksmith pulled into the driveway. Kat took a moment to talk through what she needed done with the locksmith. Afterward, he disappeared to the back of his van to gather his supplies.

I grabbed Kat’s luggage, then glanced over at Evan, “Can you handle that from here? I wanna make sure there aren’t any assholes lurking around.” My eyes shifted to Kat, “Assuming that’s OK with you, of course.”

Her lips tugged upward on one side, “Yeah, that’s…OK. I would appreciate that.”

I followed her to the front door, suddenly feeling nervous that I was about to see her place for the first time. She keyed in, holding the door open for me as I drug her luggage inside.

I gave her a nervous smile, “Where do you want these?”

She looked anxious, fidgeting with the keys in her hand, “Ummm, just leave them in the living room.”

I followed her further inside and set the luggage down next to the couch. She ran her hands through the top of her hair, “Sorry, it’s sort of a mess in here. Not as squeaky clean as your place.”

I looked around, it wasn’t bad. She had a pile of laundry at the end of the love seat, mail piled on the coffee table, and a blanket and pillow strewn across the couch. There were other little things lying around - an iPad, book, glasses, and an empty coffee cup. Otherwise, the place was pretty clean. I shrugged, “It’s not that bad. My place looked a hell of a lot worse than this before I hired a housekeeper. I was also a drunk and an addict…sooo, use your imagination.”

Her brow furrowed, “Fair enough. I just usually don’t feel like doing much while the show is in season. It takes a lot out of me these days.”

I reached out to rub her arm, “That’s understandable. I promise I won’t hold it against you. You know…I could send…”

She poked me in the chest, “Dieter, no. Stop it.”

I held my hands up in defeat, “I know, I’m just saying…A little help never hurt anyone.”

She rolled her eyes, “No. I don’t need it. Now, let's check for lurking assholes.”

After a quick peck on my lips, she grabbed my hand, leading me through the house to check things out. My eyes scanned over the surroundings, taking in the spaces for the first time. She kept things simple, with minimal decor all in earth tones with small splashes of color. She did have several paintings, all abstract pieces of dancers. I had to smile to myself knowing the pieces I had been working on. They would fit right in with the rest of her collection.

I followed her downstairs to find she had her own mini dance studio - hardwood floors with a wall of mirrors. The room was basically empty aside from a loveseat on the far wall and a small table with speakers.

Kat moved toward a door at the bottom of the steps, “Let me just go check the garage. I’m not seeing anything out of place. All of his junk is still here. It doesn’t look like he’s been around. Maybe he was afraid of running into Evan again?”

I nodded as my eyes focused on a mess of fabric hanging from ceiling gliders in the corner, “Yeah, maybe…”

She poked her head in the garage and looked around before closing the door again, “Everything looks good in there too.”

I could feel her eyes on my face as she came to stand beside me, “What are you looking at?”

I cleared my throat and gave her a questioning look, “I-Is that a sex swing?”

Her eyes drifted to where I had been staring moments before, then she snorted. “Really? That’s the first place your mind goes?”

I gave her a sheepish smile and shrugged, “It’s what it looks like.”

She laughed and shook her head, “No, those are aerial silks. I do aerial yoga.”

Her hands slid around my waist as she leaned in next to my ear to whisper, “It’s how I stay bendy.” She pulled back, smiling at me.

I gave her a wolfish grin as I pulled her in closer to press my forehead to hers, “I don’t actually know what that is, but it sounds fucking hot. I’d like to watch you do that some time…and maybe participate…in some way.”

She laughed against my lips, “Life with you is never boring, Dieter Bravo.”

I gave her a quick peck, “I like to keep you on your toes…and keep your toes curling.”

She cackled, moving to wrap her arms around my neck. I leaned in and kissed her again, more deeply this time. My hands gripped her hips, gently squeezing and pulling them against mine.

She hummed against my lips, then pulled away, “We still need to rehearse, and we have spray tans this evening, so we can’t get too carried away.”

I rolled my eyes and groaned, “Can we please skip the spray tan?”

She sighed, “You know what…I don’t wanna do it either. I vote we skip it. Fuck’em. We need to rehearse and I’m in no hurry to run into Alec. I think we can get away with it this week.”

I snorted, “You might be spending too much time with me…”

She shrugged with a smile, “I’ll let production know not to expect us. Do you need to run home before we go to the dance studio?”

My hand scratched at the back of my neck, “I dunno, if I go home just to leave again, Zee might not let me back in the house…”

Kat giggled, “That’s true…I certainly wouldn’t make it easy on you if I were her.”

I huffed out a laugh, “Gee, thanks. Maybe I’ll just send Evan back with my luggage for now and have him pick me up later? We can go grab an early dinner then head to the studio if you want? Ooor…we can rehearse here…”

Her eyes narrowed, “Dieter, I’m fairly certain that if we tried to rehearse here, there would be no rehearsing.”

I barked out a laugh, “You’re probably right. To the studio then…where we have to behave.”

I gave her one last kiss, this one a little more heated as I hugged her tightly against me. We were interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind us at the top of the stairs. Our attention averted to Evan standing there, hands in pockets with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Sorry to interrupt you two, but Kat, the locksmith is ready to work on the side door that goes into the garage.”

Her cheeks flushed as she nodded, “Got it. I’ll go open the door for him. Thanks for helping with that.”

After Kat walked out into the garage, Evan looked at me and silently mouthed “Oh. My. God.” as he bounced down the stairs to meet me.

I couldn’t help smiling, “Shut up. Don’t say anything.”

He bumped me with his elbow, “You guys are too damn cute. Dude, you’ve got it so bad. I’ve never seen you like this…”

I raised my hand, “Stop. I don’t wanna hear it.”

He held up his hands in surrender, “Ok. Ok. All I’m gonna say is, I approve. She’s fucking awesome…and hot. She makes you look like less of a hot mess.”

I scoffed, “Oh fuck off with that.”

As we waited for Kat to finish up with the locksmith, I filled Evan in on the plans for the evening. He agreed and left soon after that. Kat and I weren’t far behind him, first driving to grab some take out and eating in the car. We weren’t in the mood to be bothered by fans or paparazzi if they happened to appear as they seemed to have a way of doing lately. We ate quickly and mostly in silence, realizing the day was getting away from us. It would be our only chance to rehearse in the studio before the live performance, so we did want to try and take advantage of it.

It was weird rehearsing in the dance studio after being completely alone and uninhibited in New York. We were cognizant that anyone could walk by and see us through the glass, making sure to keep a reasonable distance between us throughout the evening. The vibes, however, were completely different. We were focused and only discussing the dance, but the electricity buzzing between us was at an all-time high. There was a new intensity in the way we moved together, perfectly synchronized and connected. We could read each other so effortlessly in how our bodies shifted around the dance floor. There were no more verbal cues passing between us, only looks and guiding touches. I could feel her unyielding trust and confidence in me more than ever and honestly, it was making me fall for her all over again.

After a few run throughs, Kat mentioned that we might need to take it down a few notches. Even we could sense the chemistry sparking between us now. There was no denying it. We decided to try and take a more playful and flirty approach. Not changing the choreography but executing it in a way that didn’t look like we were seconds away from having hot passionate sex on the dance floor. It was a major feat, but we finally got it figured out - or so we thought.

Before we knew it, it was nearing 10PM and Evan was texting to let me know he was outside waiting. I sighed, bumping Kat with my shoulder, “I think I’ve gotten spoiled being with you this week. Going to bed without you is sort of a depressing thought. You sure you don’t wanna come home with me?”

She chuckled, “I do, but you need to spend some time with Zee when you get home. We also need to actually get some sleep tonight.”

She has a point. I nodded in agreement, but that didn’t keep me from whining, “Fiiiine. I’ll suffer through it.”

I reached out, subtly grabbing her pinky with mine, “I’d really like to give you a goodnight kiss, but I know that’s probably a bad idea.”

She shook her head, “Probably not a good idea while we’re here.”

My lips set into a tight line, “This is gonna be a tortuous seven weeks, isn’t it?”

She laughed and nodded, “Probably…but it’s not like we can’t see each other outside of the studio, so calm down.”

“Fair point. Ok, I’ll walk you to your car and I will behave myself.”

Kat grabbed her bag, then we made our way toward the exit. As soon as we stepped outside, I noticed a car across the street that had someone sitting inside it.

“I’m probably being paranoid, but that might be a pap over there,” I said, nodding my head in the direction of the vehicle.

Kat’s eyes shifted and squinted off in the distance. She blew air out of her cheeks, “Yeah, you might be right.”

“Fucking hell.”

I followed two steps behind Kat as we walked toward her car and where Evan was parked next to it. I took a minute to open the driver side door for her as she tossed her bag through to the passenger seat. She smiled up at me, “I guess I’ll see you bright and early.”

I nodded, “Yep, I’ll be there with my dancing shoes on. Text me when you get home and are locked inside, please…wanna make sure you’re safe.”

Her lip tugged upward as she sat in the seat, “I will. Give Zee some hugs for me? Goodnight.”

I nodded, “Night, Kit-Kat.”

I reached down and hit the lock button on her door, then shut it. I could see her smiling and shaking her head as she started the ignition. I watched her back out, giving a brief wave as she put the car in drive, then turned to get in the passenger seat of Evan’s car. I was met by his smirking face.

“What?” I asked in a clipped voice.

“You’re down bad, dude.”

I let out a controlled breath, “I am. So fucking bad.”

Evan barked out a laugh as he backed out of the parking spot, “At least you’re aware.”

We were quiet for a few minutes. Suddenly, Evan opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but snapped it back shut.

I crossed my arms over my chest, “Spit it out.”

His grip tightened on the steering wheel, “It’s just that…you’ve been doing so well. I don’t want this to derail you.”

My brows furrowed, “Why would it? I haven’t even thought about doing any of that shit since I’ve been spending time with Kat.”

He chewed on his cheek, considering his next words, “And if it doesn’t work out with her?”

The question felt like a punch to the gut. I hadn’t even considered it. The way it stood right now, I couldn’t imagine a path to that. We seemed to be fitting together seamlessly.

“IF that were to happen…I like to think that I could handle it. I’m in a better place now and I’ve learned healthier coping mechanisms… I’ve surrounded myself with good people who won’t take advantage of my troubles.”

I paused briefly, shrugging as I thought through my next words, “I got here without her so it’s not like I need her to stay where I’m at. However, she’s making me happy…it’s like she’s the last missing piece. I…”

I wasn’t sure if I dared speak the next words out loud. I could feel my heart racing at the thought. I could feel Evan’s glances in my direction, patiently waiting for me to continue.

He sighed, “Just say it, D. What’s on your mind?”

I puffed air out of my cheeks, raking my hands down my face. I could feel the sweat beading at the base of my neck as I swallowed thickly, “I can imagine myself being with her…like, long term. Fuck, I’d move her in with me tomorrow if she’d do it. I-I’ve never wanted that with anyone before.”

Evan’s eyes widened, “Woah, that’s pretty heavy, D. That’s a big step for you.”

I laughed nervously, “Trust me, I know. I mean, that’s not gonna happen…not tryin’ to rush things. I’m trying to be realistic about it. We still need to get to know each other and all that…but I feel…hopeful.”

“Damn, D. I’m proud of you man. For once you’re not acting impulsively.”

I chuckled, “Na, I don’t think she would let me. She totally calls me out on my shit.”

He smacked the steering wheel as he laughed, “Good. You need that…and for what it’s worth, I do like her so far. She seems genuine.”

I couldn’t help smiling at his words. I loved that he liked her.

He pulled into my driveway a short time later. After a quick thanks, I made my way to the front door and keyed in. My eyes immediately sought out Zee so I could scoop her up and cuddle her. I found her sitting at the edge of the couch. I don’t know what sort of reaction I expected from her, but sassy indifference wasn’t it. She gave me serious side eye as I sat my keys, wallet, and phone down and toed off my shoes.

I approached her, speaking in a soft voice, “Hey baby girl. Did you miss me?”

I squatted down in front of her just as she stood, turned her back to me, flicked her bushy tail in my face, and jumped from the couch. She sashayed over to her cat tree, then made her way up to the very top. She perched with her back to me, still flicking her tail with attitude.

I snorted out a laugh, “Really? I’m gone for a week to work so I can fund your extravagant freeloading lifestyle, and this is what I get?”

More side eye and tail flicking.

“Ok. Fine. No cuddles means no bedtime snack.”

Her tail paused as she finally turned to look at me with her rounded green eyes. “Ahh, that got your attention, huh?”

She stood and meowed loudly, eventually making her way down to the lower level of the tree before jumping down and walking toward the kitchen with determination. “You’re about to hardcore swindle me aren’t you, you little shit?”

She proceeded to chatter at me. I felt like I was being scolded as I made my way over to her personal cabinet for a bag of treats. She wasn’t interested in any of them. Instead, she kept trying to lead me to the refrigerator. I sighed, knowing what she wanted and hoping that Evan had boiled a chicken breast for her. I had started something with that. It was now a thing she demanded.

“I gotta hand it to you…you’re a confident little thing and you definitely know what you want.”

She jumped up on the island, staring at me intently as she swished her tail around. I rolled my eyes and pulled the refrigerator door open, scanning the shelves for a glass bowl with chicken. I easily found it on the top shelf because Evan had apparently printed a label for it that said ‘Queen Zee’s Fucking Chicken’.

I chuckled, “You gave uncle Evan hell, didn’t you baby girl?”

She let out a low mewl, looking somewhat smug now as I pulled out the bowl and popped the lid off. I pulled off a few tiny shreds of meat, letting her take them one-by-one from my hand. After they were gone, she began to meow loudly again and rub her head against my hand. I sighed, “Fucking swindler…fine. One more and that’s it. We gotta get ready for bed.”

She seemed satisfied after that. After putting her bowl back in the fridge, I moved to wash my hands. I heard my phone ding with a text just as I was drying them. As I figured, it was Kat.

Kit Kat: I’m home, locked inside, and in bed. I already miss having you with me. ☹️

Her words caused a rush of excitement, but also longing. I would have loved to have her with me, at her place or mine. I didn’t care where, but I did have Zee to think about too.

Me: I miss you too, sweetheart. Maybe you can come over after rehearsals some this week? I’d love to make you dinner again. Something Greek, maybe? 😏

Kit Kat: I love it when you talk dirty to me. 😉

Kit Kat: Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you bright and early. Goodnight. 😘

I couldn’t keep the goofy grin off my face as I read her latest messages. I loved it when she was playful and flirty.

Me: Sweet dreams, Kitten. 😘

I couldn’t help wondering if she would roll her eyes or clench her thighs together over the mention of the new nickname. I could picture her doing both simultaneously and it caused a snicker as I made my way upstairs to get ready for bed.

Minutes later I was settled in, trying my best to fall asleep, but I couldn’t. Without Kat’s warm body snuggled against me, I felt restless. I hated the lonely feeling that her absence left in the pit of my stomach. I only had a small taste of what it was like to have her with me, but it was all I needed to get hooked.

Zee eventually made her way to bed, obviously over her anger as she snuggled up in the crook of my arm and purred herself to sleep. That seemed to help me relax enough to doze off. At least I wasn’t alone.

My 5:30 AM alarm came fast. I felt like I had just closed my eyes as I rolled out of bed. I went through my usual routine of getting ready, feeding Zee, and stopping to get Kat and I some breakfast and coffee before heading to the production studio. I was feeling a little on edge, somewhat worried about Alec causing drama. However, I reasoned that he had had a week to cool off and had clearly moved on with Lana. Maybe he would just let it go. I hoped so, for Kat’s sake. She tried to act like his behavior didn’t bother her, but I knew it did.

Kat and I arrived early, as usual. We were both smiling like fools when we caught sight of each other. I couldn’t help touching the small of her back as I leaned in to tell her “Good morning” and hand her coffee and breakfast over. A heated look passed between us that set my heart racing. I could already tell that it was going to be so hard to act normal while we were around others.

She smirked, leaning in to speak in a low voice, “Careful Bravo, you’re gettin’ the gooey eyes when you look at me.”

My brows arched, “Yeah? So are you, sweetheart.”

We both laughed as we made our way to the ballroom. Our early arrival made us first in line for camera blocking and run throughs of the performance. The crew was still getting things set up, so we took a minute to finish up our breakfast and coffee as we waited. Other couples soon began to filter in. I could tell Kat was getting more and more tense each time the door opened.

“You ok?” I asked her in a near whisper.

She nodded, “Yeah, I’m just afraid he’s gonna cause drama.”

I reached out to give her hand a small squeeze, “If he does, he’s gonna have me to deal with. I’ll break his fucking face this time.”

She peered up at me through her lashes with a smirk, “While I find your protective side to be incredibly hot, you will not do anything. He’s not worth it.”

I couldn’t agree to that. Luckily, I didn’t have to because our attention was drawn to the band Director who wanted to discuss the music arrangement before we got started. After that, things were in full swing as we began our run throughs. By that point, Alec and Lana had arrived. I swear I could feel their eyes on us. I think Kat could too, which would explain the tension running through her body during our first round.

As we waited for the cameras and lights to reset, I grabbed both of her hands and gave her arms a shake, “Loosen up. We’re supposed to be making this flirty and fun, remember? Ignore the asshole and focus on me.”

She chuckled, “I think I’m the one that’s supposed to be telling you to loosen up…”

They gave us the signal to take our starting position, which I took advantage of as I gripped her hips and pulled her backside against me more than necessary. I could see the hint of a smile as she tilted her face to the side toward mine. My lips leaned in next to her ear, “Relax, I’ve got you.”

That seemed to do the trick. I could feel the tension leave her body as she all but melted into me just as the music started. We did try to keep it fun and flirty, but there was no denying the sparks between us no matter how hard we tried to hide them. By the time we finished, all eyes were on us. It had clearly drawn everyone’s attention.

Surprisingly, they didn’t ask us to go through it again and gave leave for us to head out for our final wardrobe fitting. There was a quiet murmur of voices and a weird vibe as we walked off the dance floor. Kat and I made sure to keep our distance from each other as we walked toward the exit, but I could sense her uneasiness. I was feeling it too.

As we stepped into the empty hallway, our eyes connected.

“Is it just me or was that weird?” she asked.

I nodded in agreement, “No, that was definitely weird.”

She puffed air out of her cheeks, “Maybe it’s just because they all know about the Alec thing now. I’m sure that’s caused some gossip in our absence.”

That thought did nothing to alleviate the uneasiness I was feeling, “Yeah, maybe…”

Our wardrobe fitting went quickly as no alterations were needed. Kat looked amazing as always. The sheer fabric they had swapped out on the skirt half of the dress was flowy, yet hugged her curves perfectly. It emphasized her hips, taking my mind back to how those hips moved on top of me in New York. Her eyes had caught mine drifting up her body in the mirror as she turned and twisted to get a good view of the new sparkly material. The smirk on her lips told me that she knew exactly what I was thinking about as she innocently twisted her hips a little more.

We were ahead of schedule as we made our way down to hair and makeup, quickly taking a seat with the ladies that had worked on us the previous week. They had made the process a little less painful, actually chatting and having fun with us. I made an attempt to learn their names this time. Holly, who had done Kat’s hair the previous week, began combing through her long locks as she eyed me, “Dieter, do you have any hair recommendations this week?” she asked.

Kat and I laughed, “I’m not sure why you would ever want my recommendations. I’m sure Kat doesn’t.”

Samantha, who was working on my hair, smiled, “I dunno, your recommendation sort of pulled the look together.”

Kat’s foot kicked at mine, “You always have an opinion. Share it.”

I snickered. She wasn’t wrong, “Hmmm, with that dress…I think down in soft, romantic waves would be best. I’m not a fan of it being slicked back with a gallon of hair gel.”

Samantha paused with the container of hair gel in her hand, “You want yours down in soft, romantic waves too, honey?” She had a teasing look on her face. Kat and Holly both snorted out laughter.

I chuckled, “Uh, I didn’t know that was an option. Do I get extensions too? I think it would look fabulous. I could give Fabio a run for his money.”

All the ladies burst into laughter just as Alec and Lana came strolling in. Alec had a stony look on his face as he sat on the opposite side of the room. Lana on the other hand, seemed amused about something as she glanced our way. It was sort of bizarre. Kat gave me a questioning look. She had seen it too. I shrugged in response.

Our small group continued to be boisterous, not caring about our new company. Several other couples soon filled the stations, but it didn’t seem to lessen the tension in the room. Even though we pretended to ignore it, it was definitely there. Kat had turned her seat to face me, with her back to Alec. I, on the other hand, could see his reflection perfectly. I didn’t miss how his eyes flicked over in our direction ever so often. His expression remained neutral, giving nothing away as he alternated between watching us and listening to his partner. My gut was telling me he was a ticking time bomb, waiting for the perfect moment to go off.

Holly finished up with Kat’s hair, smiling as she asked me what I thought of the final product. I looked Kat over, not even paying much attention to her hair. I knew my sappy face had to be giving me away, but I sort of didn’t care, “I think she looks fucking amazing.”

I felt Kat nudge my foot with hers as her eyes widened. I quickly looked away and glanced at myself in the mirror, “I mean, not as good as me, obviously.” It had the intended effect as Samantha and Holly laughed.

As they worked on our makeup, I blabbed about how Zee gave me hell when I got home the previous night. That topic seemed to keep everyone entertained until we were finished. I could feel Alec’s eyes on us as we got up to leave. I made sure to block his view of Kat as much as possible, allowing her to walk ahead of me to exit. We did a quick change into our costumes then headed back to the ballroom for our final dress rehearsal. After going through it once, we were free until showtime.

Evan was kind enough to bring us lunch after we found catering to be less than satisfying. He joined us in my dressing room while we ate. It was a nice distraction and gave him and Kat a chance to get to know each other a little better. It was nearing showtime when he left, but it still gave Kat and I a few minutes to ourselves. As soon as he closed the door behind himself, Kat’s eyes were on me. She stood from the chair she had been sitting in and moved to perch on my lap, resting her arms around my neck as she looked at my gelled back hair, “I really should tell them to leave your hair loose too. It doesn’t look very touchable like this.”

I laughed, “No kidding. It’s like fucking concrete.”

One hand trailed down my cheek, then her thumb brushed over my lips, “I really wanna kiss you right now.”

Her voice was low, her eyes dilating as I looked into them. I couldn’t help tightening my grip on her hip, “What’s stopping you?”

“It’ll fuck up our makeup and we’ll have explaining to do.”

I sighed, gently nuzzling our noses together, “Fucking makeup.”

She laughed quietly as I leaned my head against hers, “I’m perfectly content with a good cuddle too. I hate not being able to be affectionate whenever I want to.”

There was a flash of emotion on her face. I couldn’t place it. Sadness maybe? Regret? Both? Her arm tightened around my neck slightly. I shifted, leaning my head down to place a kiss on her bare shoulder. Our moment was interrupted by staff calling out the 20 minute warning in the hallway. Kat reluctantly pulled away and began fiddling with the buttons on my shirt, undoing two of them. I chuckled, “What’re you doing?”

Her hand dipped inside and laid flat against my chest, “Encouraging your button allergy and…maybe showing you off a little.”

Her eyes shifted up to meet my gaze, “And I just needed to feel you.”

That same look from a moment ago returned. I could see it now, she was anxious. My hand dropped down over hers on my chest, lacing our fingers together before bringing them to my lips for a soft kiss. My eyes never left hers. We stayed like that for a beat until I begrudgingly broke the spell, “We probably need to get to the staging area now.”

She nodded, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

She stood, not letting go of my hand, pausing to grab her phone and give herself a quick once over in the mirror, then pulled me along to the door. I wrapped my arm around her waist, stopping her and pulling her back against my chest, leaning in to speak quietly against her ear, “Just for the record, you look like a fucking goddess today.”

She smiled, “You’re not looking so bad yourself.”

I chuckled as she opened the door and stepped away from me into the hallway. We silently made our way through the hustle and bustle to the staging area to wait for the show to begin. It was nice to have Kat there with me the entire time since she didn’t have to worry about the professional dancers performance this week.

Throughout the show, we stayed huddled close together, watching and critiquing the performances of each couple. After tonight, it would be down to eight couples, which meant the competition was about to become much more intense. There were several groups that had really improved, and at least four of them appeared to be serious competitors for Kat and me. As if there wasn’t enough fuel on the fire, one of the four couples happened to be Alec and Lana.

Our performance was scheduled to be last this week. So, we had a pretty good idea of what we were up against. As our performance got closer, we stepped over to the hair and makeup team for some quick touch ups, then Kat pulled out her phone and headphones, not deviating from our routine of getting us hyped up. I, however, didn’t feel like we needed hyping up for this one. I wanted to be in the right mindset for the performance, to feel the emotions of the music we were dancing too. I also felt like she was still a little anxious and wanted to help her relax.

I reached for her phone, “Can I make a suggestion this week?”

She gave me a quizzical look and nodded, opening her music app and passing the phone to me. I found the song that we were dancing to this week and hit play. She smiled at me.

I winked and grabbed her hand, “Just setting the mood.”

I wanted so badly to hold her, but I knew that probably wasn’t a good idea. Instead, I pulled her hand to my chest where she had placed it earlier, resting mine over hers, I began doing some of the basic footwork for the Rumba, before transitioning into the quick, quick, slow box pattern in the small open space we had to ourselves. I hoped that it would appear that we were practicing a bit before going out onto the dance floor, even if we weren’t framed in the proper position.

It seemed to have the intended effect on her as her eyes locked with mine. I could feel the tension leaving her body as we moved together and blocked out the flurry of activity around us, only focusing on each other. We went on like this for a good portion of the song until I eventually pulled her in for a hug and continued swaying to the music. We didn’t say anything. We didn’t need to. I felt like the lyrics of the song were doing a lot of the talking for us - at least they were for me. There was a new intensity and focus that passed between us as the last notes played. It gave me goosebumps and had my heart fluttering in that way it tended to do when I was with her.

Nearby movement caught my attention. It was one of the camera operators tasked with getting behind the scenes footage. I sighed, knowing he had probably caught a lot of that, but I also kind of didn’t care. A production assistant appeared at our side, letting us know that we needed to get in place. We nodded as Kat grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the ballroom floor entrance.

The minute we took our starting position, the air around us was crackling with that strange electricity that I always felt between us. As soon as I slid my left hand around Kat’s waist and pulled her backside against my front, I knew there was going to be nothing playful or flirty about this performance. She melted into me and seemed to be all in for taking the sensual route. My right hand reached to lift hers to the back of my neck and slid down the underside of her arm. She turned her head to the side, our lips nearly touching as my right hand took her left to fan her outward. It was almost like we were back on the rooftop in New York, completely alone and lost in each other.

We didn’t miss a beat, executing each move perfectly. Our footwork was completely in sync as we twisted and twirled around the room. I could feel a rush of something run through me each time our eyes met. Hers were blazing with the fire that I had longed to see there since I first noticed it, and they were blazing for me. The connection that I felt with her in that moment seemed almost otherworldly and had definitely ascended to a new level. There was no hiding whatever was happening between us. It was on display for everyone to see, more so than it had been during the morning rehearsals.

By the time we got to the lift, Kat had completely thrown all caution to the wind. After wrapping her legs around my waist and rolling her torso upward, her hands found their way to the sides of my face, grazing her lips against mine as I turned us to transition to the next move. We damn near kissed on live national television. We didn’t hold back through the last half of the song, feeling every word, every note, and pouring it into our performance. By the time she spun into me for the last lift and ending pose, I felt like I could have kissed her right there in front of the world, but I refrained. I let her take the lead on how she wanted to end it. After dipping her backwards, her right hand found its way to my cheek as she nudged our noses together. Her eyes were bright as she broke into a dazzling smile and leaned her head against mine. I stood, wrapping my arms around her middle to lift her with me. She pulled me into a tight hug as the audience broke into near deafening applause.

We made our way over to the judge’s table for feedback. All they gave were words of praise, emphasizing how the chemistry between us had reached new levels and was off the charts for this performance. They also mentioned that we oozed sensuality and were perfectly in step with one another. Their enthusiasm blew me away and I honestly hadn’t seen them that excited for any of the other performances this week. No one had gotten a perfect score yet, but three of the couples were within 5 points of it after tonight. I was hopeful that we could at least get one of the high scores for the night based on their reaction.

Once they were finished with their feedback, Kat and I made our way over to the interview area and waited for a commercial break to end to receive our scores. Her right hand wrapped around my bicep while the other squeezed my hand tightly. I shot a nervous glance in her direction as she leaned in, “Don’t worry, the whole thing was perfect. We’ve got this.”

We held each other's gaze, both of us with a small smile on our lips. Her confidence helped me relax some. Our attention was pulled back to the host who was now talking to the camera. He turned to us, asking about our challenges for the week and wondering how we managed to pull it off while also preparing for SNL too. I was in a daze as we answered his questions, not even really remembering what I had said by the time they went to the judges for scores.

I could feel Kat’s hold on me tighten with each score of ten that we received. Once it was down to the last judge, she and I both waited with bated breath. If she had squeezed my hand much tighter, she might have broken some bones. When the final ten was called out, we looked at each other, wide-eyed and shocked. It was a delayed reaction as she let go of my hand and nearly jumped into my embrace, wrapping her arms around my neck and hugging me tightly as I spun her around. Both of us laughed loudly and enjoyed the moment together.

The side-eyed glances as we joined the rest of the cast did not go unnoticed. I couldn’t figure out why they were all looking at us like that. If looks could kill, Alec would have definitely taken us out right then. Our gazes had locked for a brief moment. There was something about his glare that sent a shiver down my spine as he calmly turned to leave the staging area. I tried to ignore the gnawing feeling in my gut as I turned back to Kat, who was smiling up at me with her face flushed from the adrenaline of the moment. I tucked her into my side as we waited for the bottom three to be announced. Unfortunately, Alec and Lana were not included in that. They had received the second highest score of the night, just behind us. I could only hope they would have a massive fuck up and be voted off soon.

Kat’s POV After the show ended, Dieter and I leisurely strolled toward our dressing rooms. Both of us were still vibrating from excitement having earned a perfect score for our performance. We were the first couple to do so this season and it was the first time I had ever accomplished it since being on the show. I knew it was because of him. Not because he was a good dancer, which he was, but also because of the trust we had in each other and our ever strengthening bond. I don’t think I could have managed it with anyone else. I now felt confident that we had a real chance of making it to the finale and maybe even winning. No matter the outcome, I would have Dieter. Even if he was the only thing I got out of this, I knew that had the potential to be enough.

We were making plans for dinner to celebrate our success as we reached Dieter’s dressing room. He told me to think about what I wanted to eat as I continued past his door down the hallway toward mine. I noticed that he kept a watchful eye on me until I got to mine, which I appreciated.

I felt my phone vibrate in my hand just as I stepped inside my space. I glanced down to see a text notification from my sister as I closed the door behind me, realizing too late that Alec had been waiting in the nook behind it for me to enter. His hands were on me in an instant, roughly twisting my arm behind my back and pinning my face against the wall.

I watched as he locked the door with his free hand, then felt him lean in, brushing his lips against my ear as he spoke in a deep, threatening voice, “You didn’t really think you could make me out to be the bad guy and get away with it, did you?”

He twisted my arm harder, “That little stunt you pulled with the paparazzi was not the way to go, baby. You should’ve kept your fucking mouth shut.”

I felt pain shoot through my arm and panic taking over my body. There was something off about him this time. He seemed out of control and vengeful.

He turned me to face him before shoving me back against the wall. I managed to keep my head from smacking against it, but it did knock the air out of me a little. He moved closer, caging me in with his arms, “And now you come back from spending a week with that asshole and try to embarrass me with that fucking performance? Pawing and rubbing all over him…acting like a little bitch in heat. I knew you were lying about him.”

I let out a shaky breath, “N-No…I didn’t lie. Nothing happened between us.”

Both of his hands shifted from the wall to my throat, gripping firmly, “I don’t believe you.”

I tried pushing him away, but he didn’t budge. Suddenly feeling defiant, I asked, “Are you forgetting the part where I caught you fucking your dance partner? I don’t give a damn what you believe anymore. You're a manipulative asshole.”

His eyes darkened as a sinister smile spread across his face. His grip on my neck tightened, “Your behavior still has consequences ya know. If you wanna publicly shame me, I’ll turn this around on you so fucking fast. I’ll ruin you both.”

His grip continued to tighten, causing me to claw at his hands. It was getting harder to breathe.

“Alec, I…can’t….”

His smile slowly faded, his eyes turning emotionless. This was different. For the first time, I was truly concerned for my safety. My eyes filled with tears as I gasped for air, desperately trying to loosen his hands or push him away, to no avail. The more I fought him the harder he squeezed. It didn’t take long for my vision to begin clouding with darkness around the edges and it was clear he had no intention of stopping.

Next: Week 6

A/N: I am leaving this note from an undisclosed location to avoid the angry mob and pitchforks over that cliffy. 👀😂

So...BIG chapter. I think this may be the longest one I have ever done. I refused to break week 5 up into another section, so this is what you get. I hope you survived it...hopefully the subtle Dirty Dancing references kept you entertained. 😏

How do we think things are going with our two love birds so far? This chapter brought us lots of smut, more smut, flirting, and ridiculous cuteness during their last days in NYC. They are definitely going for it. I think Kat is going to learn a thing or two from Dieter, for sure.

We all knew Dieter would be a menace (shame on him for the SNL monologue change up), but did we expect Kat to be just as bad?

We got to see Kat get a little territorial over her man. Do we think she is going to get sick of people hitting on him at some point?

How about that bit with Kat mumbling in her sleep, did anyone see that coming after last chapter?

What do we think about Kat's new nickname?

And we got the Dieter/Zee reunion! We all knew she wasn’t going to let him off easy.

We all know Stacia and Joe are going to be up in their business after NYC. There will 100% be antics on Dieter and Kat's part when it comes to that. What do we think they are going to do?

We all knew Alec was going to continue to be a problem. Did you see that ending coming? How do you think this situation is going to go?

We are finally going to be moving into week 6 in the next chapter. We will pick up right where this chapter leaves off to cover the drama and fallout that follows. Then we will move into the Argentine Tango. There will be lots of bonding between Dieter and Kat, a Dieter therapy session, all the Latin dances are going to start catching up to Kat, and some dressing room antics. 😏

The video for this chapter comes from one of my fav couples on the show (seriously, they have so much chemistry and are very Dieter/Kat coded). It's pretty steamy. Check it out.

👉Click HERE for this chapter's rumba video.

👉If you're interested in hearing the song they are dancing to in week 5 and seeing the rumba in that video, you can view that HERE.

CP Tags: @titlee78 @legendary-pink-dot @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed

@hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin

@cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza

@girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer

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

@burntheedges @stevie75 @bunniboo0015 @quicax3 @jackie923

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

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

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sanarsi · 2 months ago

Text

Flying days and nights

ex-boyfriend!Dieter Bravo x f!Reader

Summary: You and Dieter broke up because of his addiction. Despite that, he's going to do anything to have you in his arms again. Warnings: pure angst (but with happy ending), reading offensive comments, self-hatred, mention of drugs, addiction, drunk!Dieter, toxic relationship, mention of suicide, emotional instability!reader, mention of rehab, sub!soft!Dieter Wordcount: 5,4k An: This is pure angst because I've been feeling like shit lately and I wanted to lash out :) Enjoy reading now or later when you're in the mood for some sadness xx Music I worked with: Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby - Cigarettes After Sex

Masterlist

Everyone already knew.

You and Dieter broke up.

It shouldn't have surprised you, because you knew who your ex-boyfriend was, and yet, you were shocked by how many things had appeared about you on the internet in such a short time. It had only been two weeks, how on earth had everyone found out about it?

Stupid question.

You knew the answer very well.

You were furious. At yourself, at him, at the whole fucking world that judged you even though it didn't understand. You had been through hell for the last few months of your relationship, and now you were going through another because you had become the villain in this whole story.

You didn't know why you were doing it.

Maybe to finish yourself off? Maybe so you could be even more furious at him.

But you were fully aware that you were sitting through another evening with wine, reading more nonsense about your relationship.

"I would never leave him."

Oh, you're sure they would not. His fans had an unhealthy obsession with him.

"Everyone knows that Dieter has been taking drugs for a long time, so she definitely knew what she was getting into."

Of course you knew, despite what the whole situation was about, that's how you two met. At one of the parties. He snorted coke off your stomach and then proposed to you to marry him. Romantic and that's what he was like from the start. Sweet, a little naive and so damn in love with you.

An unwanted smile spread across your lips at the memory.

"Stupid bitch. Instead of helping him, she chose to leave him. Have y’all seen recent pictures of him? He looks like he hasn't slept in weeks."

You saw it. How could you not?

He looked like a wreck.

Shame that people only saw it now and not a few months ago when it all started like you did. Everyone had a lot to say about how awful you were for not wanting to help him with his addiction. But how long can you beg someone to go to rehab only to get a contemptuous look and have them swallow a few more pills right in front of you?

Yeah, that's what you've been going through day in and day out for months.

But who would know that?

"Dieter, I would treat you better than her."

You snorted dryly and took another sip of wine.

"Of course you would," you said sarcastically under your breath and locked your phone before throwing it on the table. You felt so fucking empty, and your rage was the only thing that kept you from going crazy.

Life suddenly became too calm.

This whole toxic world had sucked you in too much for you to be able to snap out of it just like that. You felt downright uncomfortable, being in silence, alone with your thoughts. You were very aware of what you were going through in that relationship, and yet, you missed him.

It was stupid because you left on your own, you decided to leave him because you were sick of him, you were tired. No, tired is the wrong word, you were exhausted.

Constantly fighting with someone you love is the hardest fight and no one blamed you for having had enough of it. All your friends showed you support, understanding. Hell, even his mother said you were too good for him, that you deserved better.

So why, despite all the bad that was happening, there were only good moments in your memory? Moments that made you start to miss him.

His laughter, movie nights together, the next time you cried while playing ‘The Last of Us’.

That's why you felt like shit and deliberately beat yourself up by reading random comments. You wanted to be bad, you really did, but only because the old Dieter was still alive in your head. Your Dieter.

Your crazy Dieter, who could scream in the middle of the street how lucky he was to have you.

Your lovely Dieter, who took you to every gala and meeting, bragging that he had the most beautiful girl in the world.

Your sweet Dieter, who loved to cuddle you because ‘you are so soft’.

Your fucked up Dieter, who dressed up as Cupid for Halloween and shot you in the ass to spend the whole night in the hospital with you.

You hated him.

You hated him for what he had done to himself, for putting drugs above what you two had; and what you had was so fucking special. You hated him for loving him so fucking much. It hurt the most when you realized he didn't love you half as much as you loved him.

You cursed him and those damn drugs that had taken your sweet Dieter and replaced him with a vile son of a bitch who would call you the worst names while you flushed his stash of cocaine down the toilet.

You shivered at the bad memories and finished the rest of your wine. You didn't want to think about it anymore, your therapist told you to calm down for at least an hour before going to bed, and surprisingly, he was right.

You put down the glass the same moment your phone started ringing. You looked at the screen with a smiling photo of your ex and all your insides twisted painfully. Cold sweat poured over your body as you stared at the screen as if frozen. You didn't know what to expect.

Why would he call you?

He was probably stoned and barely conscious. It's possible that he even forgot that you broke up.

The flood of thoughts kept you from answering, which disappeared the moment when screen displayed a message about a missed call. You swallowed hard, finally noticing how fast your heart was pounding. Despite the alcohol in your blood, the feeling of panic only grew.

Even though your phone had long since gone black, you continued to stare at it. He hadn't spoken to you in two weeks, so why did he do it now?

Had he run out of drugs? Did he want to apologize? Did he want to call you names? Maybe he wanted to ask if you were back to your senses and wanted to come back to him? He would have welcomed you with open arms to his apartment, which was probably in ruins now. He was just doing drugs and you were cleaning. Since when were you gone? All that was left was him with his shit.

The screen lit up again with a new notification. You sharpened your gaze, reading the text of the message.

Dieter: Please, can we talk?

You stared at the jumble of words, unable to think about anything. He was sober, that much you could deduce from the fact that he didn't make a single mistake and used punctuation marks.

He wanted to talk and he was sober.

It sounded pretty impossible, so out of pure curiosity you decided to reply.

You: Still on drugs?

Three dots appeared in the corner so you patiently waited for his response.

Dieter: Baby…

Dieter: Just please, hear me out

An uncontrollable snort escaped your lips. Of course, what else could you expect?

You: Then we have nothing to talk about.

You angrily threw your phone on the table when it started ringing again and just went to take a shower.

When you went to bed, your phone already had a few missed calls and a dozen messages. You held back your curiosity and simply closed your eyes, wanting to fall asleep as quickly as possible. Forget about the fact that he wanted to contact you and wake up in the morning knowing that peace still reigns in your life.

Knowing your luck, you barely managed to drift off to dreamland and the persistent banging on the door, perfidiously brought you back to the real world.

With a loud growl, you looked at your watch and groaned agonizingly when you saw that it was well after midnight. Who in their right mind would decide to knock on your door at such an abnormal hour? You wanted to ignore it, telling yourself that it was probably a mistake, but the knocking did not stop and instead turned into an annoying tapping rhythm.

Barely able to see anything in the darkness, you headed towards the front door. You turned on the light in the hallway, wincing at the glaring brightness, and looked through the peephole in the door. The staircase was dark, yet the quiet knocking did not stop.

A feeling of anxiety went through your body, waking you up a bit from your sleep. You didn't want to spread unnecessary panic, but you immediately thought about calling one of your friends to come and check what was going on.

You would have done it if you hadn't been stopped by a quiet voice calling your name.

Without thinking too much, you opened the door and left the apartment. The first thing you did was look towards the floor, where you always found him. As usual, you were right, he was sitting against the wall with a misty gaze and a half-empty bottle of whiskey. You'd be lying if you said you were surprised at the state in which he came to you. Honestly, you were more surprised that he managed to come to you at all.

"Dieter, what the fuck?" you snapped, seeing the state he was in. Messy hair, dark circles under his eyes, slightly sunken cheeks and a wrinkled shirt with poorly buttoned buttons. Still, one of the better forms you'd seen him in recently.

His lost gaze fell on your angry face and for a moment he just looked at you as if he hadn't seen you in at least a few years. It was possible that two weeks on a constant high lasted that long for him.

“I called you,” he managed to choke out.

“Yeah, and I didn’t pick up.” Your sharp tone clearly upset him, so you sighed loudly, trying to control your nerves. “Dieter, what do you want?”

“I want to talk.”

“You’re drunk,” you announced, as if that would give him the answer to everything.

And it did.

“I know, but—”

“Come when you’re sober.”

You didn’t want to repeat this pointless dance again. There was no point in even trying to talk to him because he’d probably forget about everything within a few hours. You didn’t have the strength for that, especially in the middle of the night.

“Please, can I…” he began uncertainly, catching your attention. “Can I sleep here?” You immediately wanted to say no. You could have called a taxi, even waited for one of his friends to come pick him up, but then he added in a breaking voice, “I don’t want to be alone in that apartment again.”

You would be fooling yourself if you turned around then, closing the door in his face. You wouldn't be able to even sleep a wink, knowing that he was sitting by your door, drunk and with tears in eyes.

You were angry, you hated him and wanted to say many unpleasant things, but you were human, and he was important to you. And despite everything you went through, you felt sorry for him when you saw him in such a state, even though he brought it on himself.

You sighed loudly and rubbed your tired face, knowing that you were doing the wrong thing. "But first, go wash yourself," you barely said resignedly, and Dieter was already standing on his own. Gratitude lurked in his gaze as he smiled sadly at you.

Without a word, he pressed a bottle of alcohol into your hand and entered the apartment, immediately heading to the bathroom. You stood in the hallway for a moment, staring at the interior of your place, wondering what you were actually doing with your life.

Relationships like yours had no right to survive, at least not in the long run. You knew that, and yet you didn't want to face reality. You wanted everything to be like it used to be, when you were happy, in love. But what was the likelihood that your desires would come true whenever you wanted them to, he didn't.

Tightening your fingers around the bottle, you went back to your apartment and the first thing you did was pour the rest of the whiskey down the sink. You watched with satisfaction as the amber liquid disappeared down the drain while the shower water could be heard in the background.

The desire to sleep faded away with every minute you walked around the living room, preparing a blanket and a few pillows to make the sofa suitable for sleeping. You didn't even glance towards the bathroom as you walked past, heading to the bedroom.

You don't know what possessed you to leave the door ajar and only then lay down in bed, reaching for your phone. Since the situation was already what it was, you didn't see why you should hold back from reading his message.

Dieter: Baby, please

Dieter: I know you're mad at me, I don't blame you

Dieter: But it's been two weeks now

Dieter: I want to explain and apologize

Dieter: Can we, I don't know, meet up and talk?

Dieter: I don't expect anything from you, I just want to see you

Dieter: I really miss you.

With each message it was harder and harder to read. You had no idea if it was because of tiredness or what was happening now, but you were overcome with emotions that you didn't want to feel because they were the reason you were so damn exhausted lately.

The next messages were over two hours apart.

Dieter: Im so sorry

Dieter: For evrythin

Dieter: I know its all m fault

Dieter: I was horrible n I treated u even worse

Dieter: shouldnt be surprised that u left

Dieter: But goddamn I really miss u

Dieter: I am drunk n its so fuckin stupid but I even miss the fact that u would shout at me rn bout how irresponsible I am

Dieter: wish u were here.

Dieter: u probably sleepin by niw

Dieter: God

Dieter: I miss sleepin with u

Dieter: I hate bein alone in that fuckin bed

Dieter: Sheets still smells like u.

You felt your stomach tighten uncomfortably as you read each word. Unwanted tears welled up in your eyes so you quickly chased them away and only then did you notice the last message.

Dieter: I signed up for rehab. Im leavin on monday.

Your heart beat faster but you didn't know if it was because of the content of the message or because Dieter suddenly appeared in your doorway.

You looked in his direction not being able to tell if he was talking to you or not.

"You have everything in the living room," you said the most obvious thing that came to your mind.

You couldn't see him very well in the darkness but you knew that the silence between you was starting to drag on. You didn't want to hurry him or chase him away.

You actually didn't know what you wanted.

"I saw," he said quietly, uncertainly.

"So what do you want?" you asked more sharply than you intended but you weren't going to correct yourself, he should know that you were mad at him.

You are, or at least you were a moment ago, until you read that damn message. You wanted to believe it was true but it was more likely that it was drunken babble so you didn't get your hopes up.

"Can I sleep here?"

You frowned when the screen turned off by itself so you could see him better. He was wearing boxers and a t-shirt with some character from the game. Of course you didn't get rid of his stuff, you simply couldn't.

"I already said—"

"I mean here, with you."

You fell silent for a moment.

Did he really have the nerve to show up at your door in the middle of the night, ask to stay and now force himself into your bed? Of course he did, it was Dieter.

“No,” you answered seriously.

“Please.” He didn’t give up and despite your words, he entered, closing the door behind him.

You tensed as you watched him slowly approach the bed. “I said no, now get out.”

“You know I hate sleeping alone.”

“Sounds like not my problem.”

Your sharp tone didn't stop him from lifting the sheet and sliding in next to you. The bastard had known you too long not to know that beneath that mask of rage was just a little girl. A little girl that he had hurt and wanted to make amends.

“Dieter…” you said warningly.

“Please, just for today.” You clenched your jaw tighter, trying to stop yourself from telling him what a selfish asshole he was. You were too tired to start an argument that would lead to nothing good. “I won’t touch you.”

“You better not.”

With those words, you simply turned your back to him and pulled the sheet closer over you, as if it would protect you from feeling his presence. Despite the raging and conflicting emotions inside you, you forced yourself to close your eyes. Your attitude made it clear to him not to talk anymore and to just go to sleep. And you were honestly grateful that he was holding on to the other half of the bed.

But despite the minutes maybe even hours passing by, you realized how much his messages were bothering you.

What if they weren't just drunk words or an attempt to extort attention. What if he really decided to start treatment?

You couldn't believe it.

Because how on earth did you not manage to talk him into it, but breaking up with him did the trick? After the way he treated you, you were supposed to believe that he suddenly missed you? That he wanted you back? Bullshit.

„I’m sorry.” His quiet words pierced the space between you.

You listened but didn't intend to speak. Still, he knew you weren't sleeping, if you were, you'd probably be cuddling up to him by now. It was in your nature to like to cuddle up to his side, wrapping leg around his waist and hide face in the crook of his neck.

So you could deceive yourself but not him.

"I fucked up," he continued despite your silence. "I don't know how to explain myself because I don't know what was on my mind at the time. I just wanted more and more."

Sadness settled in your heart.

So much bad had happened and in return you got such damn poor words.

"And suddenly I woke up in the middle of the night all alone."

You didn't want to hear it.

You didn't want his words to have any effect on you, but you couldn't stop pinching your nose from holding back tears.

"At first I wondered where were you. Maybe if it’s me who forgot that you went to some friend, or maybe you were sitting in the living room late reading another romance." You almost let a small smile creep onto your lips. "And only after a moment did I realize that two days earlier you left the apartment saying that you wouldn't witness my suicide."

Just thinking about that day, something inside you broke again.

You had shed way too many tears that night.

"I didn't realize the meaning of your words at the time. But then it hit me. Hard."

Well, it was good that he understood at all what you were talking about considering the state he was in at the time.

"You had been fighting with me for months. You were with me despite the state I could sometimes get myself into, how I could treat you even though you only wanted to help me. And for that I want to apologize and thank you. If it weren't for you, I would wake up in my own vomit every other day."

These were the things you tried to forget about. Life with him had turned into a living hell.

Looking at it from where you were, you wondered how on earth you had managed to survive so many months living like a private nurse.

Sometimes you wonder if it was still love or a desperate attempt to save someone you once loved.

"I haven't been able to take anything since then." Those words surprised you enough to make you shiver uncomfortably.

He hadn't taken anything in almost two weeks? It was hard to believe after the state he was in when he visited you today.

And as if he was reading your mind, he continued, "I decided to clean up the mess I made before I could even try to look you in the eye. And—" his voice broke. You resisted the urge to comfort him. “And it took me longer than I thought.” You heard him swallow hard, trying to control the tremor in his voice.

You didn't even want to remember affairs that you took care of for him during his drug streak.

From an ordinary girl you became an actor's girlfriend, his lover, best friend, then manager and then executioner and nurse.

Life had a way of surprising, but you never thought it would be to such an extent that you wouldn't recognize your reflection in the mirror.

"And today I finally got to see you, but you didn't want to," he said sadly. You barely held back a snort. "I'm not surprised, but I still hoped you'd at least want to hear my apology."

Maybe you wanted that, but not when you were still a mess and wanted to see him on his knees, begging for forgiveness. You didn't want to talk to him while still under the power of negative emotions.

You were a fan of resolving issues through calm conversation. And you were doing just fine until you met him and your arguments could be heard by your neighbors a few floors down.

"I took it a little hard," he admitted, embarrassed. "Being sober and under constant stress, and without you, was fuckin’ hard."

You could hear in his tone how tired he was of it all. But for him it had only been two weeks. For you? A little longer.

You felt sorry for him, you really did. But you also felt sorry for yourself.

You put him first for so long that you forgot that you are also a human being, that you have feelings and needs, that you also have the right not to be strong.

"And after everything, you didn't even want to talk to me. It's just," he sighed heavily, "it kind of killed me. So I'm sincerely sorry for showing up at your door in the middle of the night, but I couldn't stand being alone in that apartment."

Well, the only silver lining, if you could call it that, is that the last two weeks haven't just been tough for you.

You had been together for so long that suddenly being alone felt strange, alien.

And maybe it shouldn't, but you took comfort in the fact that he missed your presence too. As stupid as that might sound after what had happened.

The silence on his part began to drag on and you didn't know if he was thinking about his next words or waiting for any reaction from you.

His heavy sigh convinced you that he was waiting for your words that never came.

"I don't know if I've ruined everything to the point where my words mean nothing to you and you'd love to throw me out the door, but I want you to know that I'm truly sorry for what I've allowed myself to become. That it was more important for me to snort coke right after waking up than to tell you that I love you while eatin’ you."

At those words, something dangerously boiled in your lower abdomen.

You didn't want his words to have that effect on you, but your body knew better, feeling the hunger for his touch.

You couldn't kill the feeling of longing that grew with every word he spoke.

You were weak.

For him.

Because of him.

You didn't know the difference.

“And even if it doesn’t change anything, I wanted you to know that I’ve checked myself into a three-month rehab.”

You stared blankly into the dark space, trying to catch the slightest sign of whether or not he was lying. Surprisingly, he sounded serious, even a little scared at the thought of what he was talking about.

Another prolonged silence almost convinced you to answer him. Almost.

"And I’ll understand if you say no, but I would like to know if maybe you want to visit me sometime," he said hopefully. The feeling of sadness only grew in your chest. "The resort is in Switzerland, that's why—"

"Where?!" You opened your eyes wide and sat up in surprise, turning towards him.

Dieter was slightly shocked that you decided to speak, so for the first few seconds he just looked at you with his mouth parted.

"In S-Switzerland," he repeated uncertainly.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me? I have to fly to Switzerland several times a month just to talk to you for like… probably half an hour? Do you know how much it will cost?” You frowned, hoping that this was some kind of bad joke.

This wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure what he was expecting. Seeing your face, he realized that he had probably assessed the situation a bit too optimistically.

“But we’re rich. I don’t see—”

“You are rich, Dieter,” you corrected him sharply, “not me.”

Your words hit him harder than either of you could have anticipated.

He blinked a few times, staring at you as if he was seeing you for the first time in his life. He didn't want to admit it, but he didn't expect things between you to be in such a bad shape.

"Baby, I know things aren't great between us," he began, also sitting down. Slowly as if the slightest overly aggressive movement could scare you away. “But nothing has changed on my end. I love you and I want to fix everything,” he said confidently. “Or at least have a chance to fix it.”

“I fucking hate you, did you know that?” you said with audible sadness that made him look down.

Now that he was sober and could see what he had gotten you into, the guilt was eating him up inside. He hated it when you were mad at him, and even more so when you looked at him with such hurt eyes. It made him feel like the worst bastard in the world.

“I figured it out when you left me,” he whispered.

The sadness in your chest turned to sorrow as it became harder to hold back the tears with each passing second.

You weren't ready for this conversation, but would you ever be? Was it even possible to be prepared for something like this?

“I know it’s fuckin’ selfish of me,” he began, sighing heavily as he gathered enough courage to look you in the eye. “But I want to know if you’ll at least wait for me.”

He was serious, you could see it in his eyes. He really wanted you to stay with him.

He had the courage to ask you to stay with him, to wait.

You stared at him without a word, but this time he patiently waited for your answer. He was sure that he would succeed. He wanted to get better, for you, for himself. He was determined to get back the life he had. Because he was damn lucky to have you in his life and he only realized it when he woke up without you cuddled to his chest. He woke up way too late but he couldn't turn back time, he could only fix the present and take care of the future.

He wanted so bad for you to give him a second chance and you wanted to give him one. You weren't able to cross him out of your life. He was one of the most important people in your life. There was even a moment when you realized that you wanted to spend the rest of it with him. But things got fucked up quickly.

The worst part of it all was that even if something like this happened again, you would be willing to forgive him. And you were afraid that it could be your undoing.

“Of course I'll wait for you,” you said, losing all strength to fight.

Dieter looked at you for a moment as if he couldn't believe that such words could come out of your mouth. He looked as if he was speechless and unable to process the information correctly and if it weren't for the context of the situation, you would have laughed. Instead, to convince him of your words, you smiled crookedly and shrugged. It was as if it woke him up from hypnosis, he blinked a few times and snorted in disbelief.

“Really?” he asked hopefully.

You shrugged again and let a soft smile permanently grace your face. Thanks to him, you realized that love could be pretty messed up.

“Well, a few years ago, I was shot by cupid and I think his magic is still working,” you said seriously, and his face was priceless when he realized what you were talking about.

“Well…” he started to say but instead burst out laughing. “Yeah,” he nodded, shaking his head in amusement. Just a silly sentence was enough to make his eyes sparkle again, something you hadn’t seen in a long time. “I missed you.” He smiled shyly and you knew he was still testing the waters.

"I know."

"Don't say it back, huh?" he asked with a smirk, even though he knew the answer and wasn't going to force you to do anything.

"You didn't deserve it."

Despite this, your gaze was still full of warmth, but he knew that to get back what you had, he would have to try really hard.

"Fair enough," he nodded, not wanting to argue because he knew it was true. He didn't even know how he deserved you. “Can we cuddle now?”

You had to admit you wondered how long it would be before he asked that question. The little boy inside him was just waiting for you to give him a sign that he could touch you, so when you barely reached out your hand towards him, he pulled you to him in a second.

You moaned as your lips crashed painfully together. You couldn't fight his longing kisses because, damn, you missed it yourself. You placed your hands on his cheeks and allowed yourself to slow down a bit. He didn’t object, he never did. He just luxuriated in your soft lips and delicate tongue, and it wasn't until he could melt under your touch that he realized how much he missed you.

“Don't ever do this to me again,” you whispered against his lips.

“I won’t,” he gasped, stroking your back. “I promise.”

Tags some babes who might enjoy @bbyanarchist @axshadows @lover-of-books-and-tea @jhiddles03 @tobethlehem

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x y/n #dieter bravo angst #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal angst #sanarsi fic

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 7 months ago

Text

into you

Summary: After almost giving up the hope to become a big actor you get offered the leading role in a period drama, leaving you to spend three months in Scotland with your male co star Dieter Bravo and maybe falling in love with him.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.247

Rating: T

Warnings: fluff, falling in love, implied smut, kissing, really cheesy movie lines I made up, confessions of feelings, reader is in her late thirties, Dieter playing the piano

A/N: Another one for @undercoverpena April showers challenge! What's better than a Pedro character in period clothing in the rain? Making out with him hehe

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

You couldn’t sleep.

The moon was shining hrough the window of your hotel room, an old castle in the middle of nowhere somewhere in Scotland.

You had come here almost three months ago, having gotten the first big job of your career, the lead role in a period drama. The first lead role you ever got. The first big job you ever got.

For years you dreamed of being a big movie star.

Much like every young person who came to LA.

Which had been almost twenty years ago. You had been about to quit trying for that one big role that would finally grant your your big success last year.

By now well in your thirties (the forties getting closer and closer), not having any major success apart from some multi episode secondary character on some netflix shows in the latest years, you gave up hope that you would make it.

Sometimes the residuals you got from playing Chandler Bing’s awkward girlfriend for two episodes almost twenty years ago on friends had been the only way to pay your rent.

You were looking into going back to school when your agent called you, talking you into going to this last audition. It had been as a favour to them that you agreed, the contracts between you and the agency already canceled towards the end of the month.

They had always believed in you and you hated saying no to them because of that reason.

Maybe it was you having nothing to lose that left you going into the audition and blowing them all away. Not that you thought you did until your agent called you not even twenty minutes after you went out of the audition, asking you to come back to read opposite the male lead.

Still you didn’t let yourself getting your hopes up, walking back into the office building, back into the room you had been in before, now with an additional face smiling warmly at you.

You didn’t know that in the next two hours your whole life would change.

Not just because they offered you the job.

No, It was the day you met Dieter Bravo.

Of course you knew who Dieter Bravo was.

You had admired him since he starred in the high school drama series you definitely did not tape every episode from when you were in your teens.

And there had been no posters of him in your room growing up, nope.

But like almost every teen crush, it faded over the years.

You grew up, and he did too. You knew he had won an Oscar some years back, you saw the movie in the cinema back then.

He had made headlines after that, naming him the next big thing.

But lately the only headlines you remembered of him had been of his drug escapades and dating life.

So you had been a little reserved when you first met, hoping he would be professional enough throughout the audition.

Hope you shouldn’t have had, because Dieter had turned out to be professional in every single way.

Now, after spending almost two months with him, playing opposite of him, acting that you were in love with him, you found yourself wishing he would be a little less professional.

Groaning you sat yourself up in your bed, clicking the lamp on the bedside table on, reaching for your phone.

2:43 am.

Taking a deep breath and releasing a long sigh as you exhaled you let your head fall back.

In twenty four hours you would be on a plane back to the states, already on your way to shoot your next movie, your career seemingly finally starting off now that you were starring in a movie with Dieter Bravo.

You should be beyond happy.

Everything you dreamed off finally seemed to come true. You had three jobs lined up that would pay more than you had made in the last ten years combined.

Yet the thought of waking up every morning and not getting to spend the day with Dieter made it all bittersweet.

You had spent a lot of time together since getting to Scotland to shoot this movie. Not only on set, but apart from it too. He had been here before, shooting another movie and invited you out some times, showing you around. You had dinner together almost every night be it in an restaurant he wanted to show you or in the hotel. You got to know the man behind the persona you learned he put on for the public for and over the last weeks you had found yourself falling for him.

Your fingers cam up to brush over your lips, the lips he had kissed.

More than once.

In front of the camera.

But before you went to bed tonight, he walked you to your room and he had kissed you good night. Without cameras rolling. Without people around. Just you and him. His warm hand on your cheek, your back pushed against your hotel room door as he towered over you, his other hand resting on the door behind you.

You were out of breath when he parted from your lips, wishing you a good night, leaving you watching after him with your lips parted, your brain still trying to process that he had just kissed you, as he went down the hallway until he disappeared into his room.

You were too giddy to sleep, getting an old sweatshirt on before you grabbed your hotel key and walked out of your room, hoping he was as sleepless as you were and downstairs where you had found him often during your stay.

You could hear the faint sound of a piano as you entered the lobby, the night manager giving you a small smile as you walked past, following the sound.

In the far back corner of the lobby was a piano where you found Dieter playing a melody you did not recognise.

You had found him here before, in the beginning when you could not sleep because you were too nervous to fuck this big chance you got up.

He told you that his art supplies hadn’t been shipped yet, and that he usually painted when he couldn’t sleep.

And so instead he played.

And you listened, sitting next to him until you both almost fell asleep, before he walked you to your room, only to be up some hours later to shoot a movie where his character denied to be in love with your character, pushing your character away until a big dramatic scene where you would finally admit your feelings to each other.

Sitting down on the seat next to him as he played now, you let your head fall against his shoulder, hearing him inhale as he continued to play.

His lips brushed against your temple and you closed your eyes, just listening to his song.

When he finished you looked up at him, his eyes were already on you, an unreadable expression on his face.

„Couldn’t sleep?“ he asked.

You hummed in agreement.

„Too many thoughts in my head,“ you whispered and he nodded. One of his arms came to wrap around your back, pulling you closer against his side.

„You wanna talk about those thoughts?“ he asked and you chuckled.

„Don’t wanna fuck the big scene up tomorrow, well today,“ you said and he gave you a small smile.

„If someone is gonna fuck up it’s me. You make me keep forgetting my lines,“ he winked and you felt your cheeks growing warm, remembering the many occasions Dieter had seemingly spaced out during some scenes, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t place.

„What do you mean?“ You asked, and he sucked his bottom lip in, before he shrugged and there it was again, that expression in his face, his eyes big as he looked at you.

„I can’t stop looking at you. You’re so talented and beautiful and kind and so damn intelligent. Sexy….,“ he winked „You just blow me away and it’s like my brain stops working when I look at you sometimes. I never really felt like this before…“ he whispered and you blinked at him.

„What I am trying to say is, I like spending time with you. I like talking to you. I like kissing you, touching you,“ he grinned and you huffed.

„Especially when it’s just the two of us. Last week when the director called cut when we were in bed….“ He closed his eyes, shaking his head.

You had rushed off after finishing the scene with him, having to take care of the ache between your legs in the bathroom after spending almost six hours in bed with him, shooting numerous sex scenes.

„I wish we had been alone,“ he whispered his face getting closer to yours, his lips brushing over yours.

„Dieter,“ you whispered, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his lips pressing against yours and you shivered.

„Yeah?“ He asked.

„We are alone now,“ you whispered and he nodded, before he kissed you again, deeply.

„Would you like to have sex with me?“ He whispered and your lips twitched into a grin which he mirrored before he kissed you again.

„Take me to your room, Dieter,“ you said, giggling when you found yourself pulled in the direction of the elevators in the next moment.

„This is madness,“ you shook your head, the rain coming down on you without mercy, drenching your many layers of clothes.

„Why? Why is it madness that I have fallen for you?“ Dieter asked, in character, his white shirt clinging to his chest.

You huffed a laugh, your character in denial about the feelings not only she had, but he had too.

„Because we are both engaged. And not to each other. We have to end this. I have to….“ You shook your head, closing your eyes, before you looked up at him. Dieter having closed the distance between the two of you, but not close enough to touch. The raindrops where running down his nose, his hair clinging to his face.

He looked like a wet dream straight out of a Jane Austen novel.

„All these times we spend in each others arms, they don’t mean anything to you?“ He asked.

„It was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened,“ you said, Dieter’s character seeing right through your lie.

„Do you love me?“ He asked and you did not have to play the small smile that sneaked to your lips for only a moment before you fought it down.

„It doesn’t matter,“ you said, turning away from him, but his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you before you could go.

„It matters to me. ,“ he whispered, broken, and the tone of his voice made you want to cry.

The rain continued to fall as you gave the camera time to capture both of your faces.

„Of course I love you,“ you finally said, looking at him over your shoulder.

„Then stay,“ he pleaded. You began to shake your head, when he pulled you against his chest, one of his hands on your cheek, brushing your hair that stuck to your face to the side, his eyes gazing deeply into yours.

„Stay and allow yourself to be happy,“ he said, almost begging.

„Stay here and let me love you,“ he let his forehead fall against yours and your eyes dropped close, pictures of the night he had spend with you filling your mind, the way his forehead had rested against yours as he filled you over and over and…

You opened your eyes and Dieter’s lip twitched for a second, having caught your unintended pause.

„What about our families?“ you asked, „What about my sister? She’s in your house getting ready to marry you today,“ you asked.

„They will understand. They have to. And if they don’t, I’ll take you away where we can live our life without the judgement of others. You’ll never have to worry for money.I love you, please be with me,“ his nose brushed against yours.

You felt his other hand on your lower back and you gasped.

„Then take me away,“ you whispered, feeling his smile against your lips as he finally kissed you, your arms wrapping around his broad back, fingertips brushing over his drenched clothes as he deepened the kiss.

The first thing you realised when Dieter parted from your lips was that the rain had stopped and that it was quiet around you. Too quiet.

Looking at Dieter he gave you a sheepish smile before you looked around, finding the crew around you looking at the both of you, Dieter’s PA holding two robes in his arms, giving you a wide smile.

„You gonna listen when I call cut now?“ The director teased with a wide grin and you let your head fall against Dieter’s chest, mortified, but he just chuckled, before he helped you get into the robe his PA had brought over.

„We’ll meet in an hour for the wedding scene, do not be late,“ the director reminded everyone, giving you and Dieter a longer look, and you nodded. Dieter grabbed your hand, and you looked at him.

„Can’t wait to marry you,“ he winked and kissed you again, before you both were rushed off from the set to get ready.

And you did actually get married.

Seven months later.

On a beach.

In the rain.

Without any interruptions.

#undercoveraprilshowerschallenge #my fic #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo x fem. reader #Pedro Pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo fanfic

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freakrenaissance · 2 years ago

Note

I'm so gone over this trash panda of a man 🤤

I am here with Dieter Bravo fic recs! (I hope it's okay to send them as an ask, I just wanted to keep things organized). This is in no way a comprehensive list and I am one hundred percent I am forgetting someone.

@jazzelsaur has her story Stay on the Screenplay. It's stunning and heart wrenching and my favorite Dieter story. She also has three one-shots that I can't recommend enough! @write-and-buried has her phenomenal coffee shop AU Celestial Navigation! THE VIBES! THE HEART. THIS FIC! Also on her masterlist you can find multiple Dieter one-shots AND porn star!Dieter which is indescribable! @fuckyeahdindjarin has her amazing story Consent and @prolix-yuy has Below the Line and both are amazing!

@blueeyesatnight has two on her Dieter Bravo masterlist Nothing Lasts Forever and That's Not Your Name!

@littlemisspascal has a soulmate AU called Love Triangles that is sweet sweet sweet.

@psychedelic-ink has one of my new favorites We Fall Like Snow and it has my whole throat in a chokehold right now.

@whatsnewalycat and her stunning turn on grief and love and haunting with her Dieter Bravo story Psychomanteum.

@pedropascalsx @the-ginger-hedge-witch @toomanystoriessolittletime @honestly-shite are also ones off the top of my head that have written one-shots for this vexing gremlin man.

Like I said, I am one hundred percent I am missing people because our fandom is running wildly rampant with talent. Just seriously, an embarrassment of riches.

TONIGHT I AM FED

no seriously you've unleashed my love for this awful human who I'm sure smells like a combination of dried lawn and wet cement and I'm not even mad about it.

#dieter bravo fic #fic rec #author rec #fic rec list #dieter fics #fanfic rec #fanfic blog #reblogging is love

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chronically-ghosted · 1 year ago

Text

i crawl home to her

rating: 18+ explicit

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: 8.2K

summary: you bring dieter home to meet your family over the holidays.

warnings/tags: discussions of food, mentions of weight gain, brief biphobia, bad family dynamics, hiding parts of yourself to make yourself more palatable, dom!Dieter when his type-A girlfriend needs him to, smut in places it shouldn’t be, a family can be two people, bad jokes, mentions of marriage and kids, one light booty smack, peep the super obvious bob's burgers reference, minimal edited, you can pry the image of dieter in ugg's from my cold dead hands

a/n: i've caved and finally added to the evergrowing pile of "Pedro boy fucks you in your childhood home". @sp00kymulderr i told you i'd get it out today -- it might be tomorrow for you, but it's not yet midnight! i present to you part 2 of merry thanksgiving nonsense2023!

🤍Masterlist

You nearly miss the exit off the gray-slushy highway because you’re trying to remember Aunt Gayle’s food allergies.

And Uncle Rick’s preferred way of taking his coffee in the morning.

And the right detergent to use when washing your niece’s clothes, or else your sister will come after you with a hatchet.

“Baby, you’re gnawing your fingernails bloody.”

You blink, surprised to find your hand anywhere near your mouth, the other white-knuckling the steering wheel, and to your enormous embarrassment, he was right – you’d pulled up several hangnails, leaving tiny pink gouges, right under your immaculate holiday nails you got for the express purpose of looking presentable in all the inevitable Insta photos your sister demands every year.

“Fuck,” you mutter and curl your fingers into your fist as if to hide temptation. From the passenger’s seat, Dieter frowns.

“Twizzler to make it better?” He spins the red, bendy candy enticingly. Your mind suddenly flashes back to the time you both got way too high on his new bong and he made the exact same motions with his dick. You had never laughed so hard in your life.

The red candy whipping around in a circle, you groan into the steering wheel.

“I’m turning around. This was a terrible idea.”

“What are you so nervous about?” Dieter half-way laughs. He pulls his Ugg-stuffed feet off the dashboard and sits up. Crumbs from the Starbucks Christmas sugar cookie spill off his “Kris Kingle My Jingle” sweater and onto the seat, but it’s those fucking earnest, curious eyes that always seem to rock your world. You occasionally don’t like to be touched when you’re stressed, so out of the corner of your eye, you see his hand waver before falling back in his lap. “It’s just dinner.”

“Yeah, but it’s holiday dinner with my family. They’re all so judgy and mean and every time I come home for more than twenty-four hours, I’m reminded exactly why I fucked off to California.”

“Maybe they’re jealous you’re a hot shot director,” Dieter suggests. “Or that you have a ruggedly handsome movie star boyfriend.” Eyebrow raised, he twirls the Twizzler again and manages to bite it out of the air. You half-way expected it to smack him in the face. “They know I’m coming, right?”

You bite your lip, the last phone call with your mother still achingly heavy in your chest.

“You know what she asked when I told her I was bringing home the one and only Dieter Bravo as my boyfriend to meet my family?” You don’t need to look at him to see the furrow in his brow, the slight curve in his shoulders. You prop your elbow up against the window, rubbing your forehead with your fingers. “She asked if it was a career move. If I was dating you to get ahead in the industry . . . like I’m trying to sleep my way to the top.”

There’s a fraught silence. You listen to the wheels churn dirty black snow so you don’t have to look at him.

“Then why in the world would you start with my dumb ass?”

Despite yourself and despite what’s coming, you smile. But you fight it, wrapping your lip up between your teeth. So he continues:

“If you really want to make it big, you gotta date someone at least forty years older than you. So, what? We’re talking seventy. But, wow, think of the money. Bet he has his dick dripped in gold just to keep it hard–,”

“Dieter!” You swat at him, smile too big to contain, and he grins, grabbing you by the wrist. “That’s terrible!”

“But I made you laugh, didn’t I?”

You smirk. “Barely. More like ha ha than a big chuckle.”

He nips your palm, the rough hair on his chin scraping the soft skin.

By some minor miracle and a forcible act of God, your mother is allowing you two to share a bedroom. Not out of respect for your relationship, of course, but there is simply not enough room to spare. You watch those perfect lips imprint themselves in the cup of your hand and you’ve never been more thrilled to have to share a double bed. God, you cannot be this wet before you have to look your mother in the eye. You retract your hand with a breathy exhale.

“We don’t have to stay long,” Dieter says, a weight to his gaze that proves he hasn’t completely blown off your concern. He twists his body in the seat and crosses his arms, his shoulder pressed into the seat. He watches you with his head against the headrest. “I hate seeing you like this.”

“I’m already on thin ice because we’re just staying two days.” You shake your head. “My sister and her family have already been there since Monday and plan to stay the rest of the week.” You inhale, hold, and exhale until you can feel your shoulders drop. “It’s just . . . I’ve worked so hard to make something of my life, to be someone I can be proud of, and it just doesn’t matter to them. They want me to marry a banker or something, and quit my job to do cutesy family blogging on Instagram. They’ve never, ever liked the real me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see something come over Dieter’s face. Not annoyance, or irritation, but as if someone kick started his brain. But it passes and he brushes the back of your hand resting over the gearshift with his fingers.

“I like the real you,” he says quietly. “In fact, I really, really, really like the real you. I gotta keep you around. Who else is gonna remember the name of the best Chinese food place when I’m high?”

Dieter is sweet, knows the wonders his smile can accomplish, with a twinkle in his eyes. A bit crude, a little distractible, but ultimately, well-meaning. However, he seemed physically incapable of maintaining sincerity. Which in the beginning, was also cute, but now, in a moment of crisis, it was boyish in a way that made you worried. A little scared. Like too much pressure and he’d break.

Is Dieter Bravo someone you could rely on?

History says no.

So, maybe you’d just carry everything.

You smile at him and return your hand to the steering wheel.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The car squeals as it stops in the driveway, wheels crunching the cold ice. You look up at your childhood home with the same unease and trepidation that’s been there since childhood.

“Go let ‘em know we’re here,” Dieter says as he unbuckles his belt. There’s still crumbs in the knit of his sweater. At least his sweatpants are clean. But there’s nothing you can do about those Uggs right now–

His hand squeezes yours, centering the universe that’s spinning like the inside of a martini shaker. You can feel the weight of his gaze press into your chest – heavy, warm, forgiving. He smiles, then slides into a smirk.

“Chillax, bro. Your vibes are not gnarly.”

You huff, trying to offer a smile that’s not a grimace. This was such a bad idea. Maybe it’s not too late to go pay for one of those mail-order boyfriends and keep Dieter in his nice California, hippie plastic wrap.

You hear your name being called from the porch and that smile fully plummets into a grimace. Gathering from that reserve of confidence that makes you look at male writers, directors, and (yes) actors and tell them they’re idiots and get the fuck off your set, you open the door and head around the corner to the front of the house.

Yeah, in the face of your mother, that reserve is basically a trickle.

She’s waiting for you on the porch, red dish towel in hand.

“I thought that might be you, darling! I’d recognize that squeak from that rust bucket anywhere.” She smiles, arms wide, as you bend down to give her a hug. You've had to bend down to hug your mother for years now and you still feel about two feet tall. “How are you? You’ve been good? You look pale, but you’ve definitely been eating, haven’t you?”

She pinches your cheek as if to show you all the extra fat you have on your face.

“Where’s Dad?” You try not to look like you’re tearing your face out of her grip and glance into the surprisingly quiet house over her shoulder. “Aren’t Emma and Dan supposed to be here?”

“Your father is out finishing his latest woodworking piece. He’s been at it for days, no matter how much I beg him to help with the food or the house. It’s all on me again to save the holidays.”

As it is every year.

“Your sister and her family went out to get more sweet potatoes. They eat sweet potatoes in California, don’t they?”

Here it comes.

“Yes, Mom, they eat sweet potatoes.”

“Oh good, I thought it’d be considered a carb.” She frowns, hands on her hips as if you’re about to get a proper scolding. “Now you told me you’re going to be bringing your fancy actor boyfriend. Damian Bravado, right? I cooked for exactly seven people, darling, a single empty chair will throw the whole thing off!”

“Yes, Mom, my boyfriend, Dieter Bravo, is here. He’s just in the–,”

Someone, distinctly not your boyfriend, or at least not the boyfriend you left in the car, waltzes up the front steps.

Rings gone.

Earring gone.

Gloves that would make Ryan Gosling seethe with envy covering the tattoo on his hand.

His hair slicked back and curling deliciously around his ears, his dark jeans cover the laces of maroon Timberland boots. His black turtleneck clings to his wide chest, the leather jacket broken in enough to be soft, but not so used there’s tears in the seams. And, to top it all off, his cream-colored scarf curled around his throat looks like it came out of a Hallmark movie.

Maybe you are in a Hallmark movie. Maybe on the way up the porch, you slipped and banged your head and all of this is a bizarre, weirdly-erotic dream. Maybe someone actually did call in a mail-order boyfriend who looks exactly like Dieter and the real one is hog-tied in the trunk of your car. Maybe –

You’d heard of quick costume changes, but this is ridiculous.

“Debbie!” He calls out, like they’ve been best friends for twenty years. He flourishes a wrapped bouquet of flowers, bright red against the white snow, and hands them to her after bouncing up the steps. His cheeks are tinged pink, as if he’d run the block, but without a drip of sweat on him, he’s simply glowing with what could be presumed as the holiday spirit.

To your never-ending and horrific surprise, your mother squeals as she takes the flowers.

“Poinsettias! My –,”

“Favorite, I know.” You stumble out of the way when he leans down and kisses her on her cheek. “And they’re fake, so you can reuse them next year. But you’d never know it at $300 a pop.”

Okay, yes, this is a clone of your boyfriend, a walking holiday Ken doll – Dieter never, ever brags about money.

“I’m not a banker or anything, but I like to spoil my girls.”

The bastard winks at you.

Your mother has turned to gooey, drippy putty in his hands. She’s redder than the hand towel and the poinsettias combined. She flounces, flutters, eyes springing back and forth between the ruby-red flowers in her hands and Dieter’s achingly handsome face – one that hasn’t dimmed that thousand gigawatt smile since he first arrived.

“Oh, oh my goodness – well, this is just lovely – it’s so nice to finally meet you – I can’t believe she’s been hiding you from us all this time – please, please come in, you must be freezing!”

She backs into the house, still staring at the flowers, then as if she hadn’t been living here for the past fifteen years of her life, she bounces towards the dining room, then on a quick turn, heads for the kitchen, then turns again to the hallway closet.

“Oh gracious – where did I put – it must be – come in and shut the door behind you – you know where your room is, darling, I’ll be back in just a second, I just have to – ah, these are spectacular –”

A door down the hallway finally swings shut and muffles your mother’s insane rambling.

So dazed, you don’t see him move until he’s pressed you up against the glass etching of the door, his hand palming your hip and the other diving to cup the back of your neck. He tugs you down into his mouth before you have time to blink.

Jesus Christ, mint? His breath smells like mint??

God, he even fucking kisses like a Hallmark Prince. His mouth pulls you into him and your brain whites out – careless of the little whimper you make, careless of the fact that literally any one of your family members could walk in right now, careless that you’re teetering into him as if on string. Your breath flutters down his throat and he huffs through his nose. The tips of his fingers are chilly enough that you shiver at his touch.

He edges the bottom of your lip with his tongue before pulling back and tightening his grip in your hair.

And there’s that Dieter smirk you are all too intimately familiar with.

“How’m I doing?” He mutters. His gaze flickers between your eyes, your nose, and your kissed-pink lips. “I’d say I got Mama Bear on my side.”

Maybe it’s a good thing he isn’t always like this. Between the fresh breath scent in his mouth, the fragrance of his much-too expensive cologne permeating your senses, and his thick thigh shoved under your groin, you are embarrassingly boneless in his arms. You pluck your fingers over the soft leather collar at the back of his neck, just as much to inspect the jacket, as much as to release more of that delicious smell.

“Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?” You mutter, smirking, as you wind your fingers into his curls. “Spoil my girls, what the fuck was that?”

“Ah, ha, ha, ha,” he gloats as he lowers his head to your neck. You expect a warm kiss in the length of skin you’ve exposed to him, but instead his teeth lightly tease your throat above your pulse point and you feel your knees buckle as your face warms. “I can be very charming when I want to be.” He squeezes your ass as if to make a point.

You hold back a moan, flattening it to a shudder in your chest. You can feel his grin in your neck and he shifts you, pulls you closer and compresses you deeper into the wooden door. You can feel your conscious thought melting through your fingers so you blink, lick your lips, try to wiggle out from under his teeth.

“This isn’t a Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner. This is Invasion of the Body Snatchers.” You gasp his name into the foyer of your childhood home when he licks you from the curve of your shoulder up under the soft place below your ear. Your hips jerk unconsciously, baser instincts seeking out the friction of his jeans, and you push against his biceps. “Dieter, she’ll be back any minute. She can’t – can’t see us like this.”

You’ve never heard him chuckle like the way he does, so darkly pleased with himself.

“Once I’m done schmoozing her, your father, your sister and her – what did you call him – cardboard husband, we’ll fuck in front of them and they won’t say a word.”

“Dieter!” You shove him just as your mother returns from the kitchen.

She frowns and you feel the scolding coming, the scent of Dieter so obviously entangled in you. You might as well be wearing a sign that reads, hi, yes, I’ve been recently groped why do you ask?

“Did you forget where your room is? Honestly, what would you do without me? Now, follow me and I’ll remind you.”

Schmooze he did.

From the same magical bag of weirdly specific and perfect gifts, Dieter presents a bottle of Buffalo Trace bourbon and two very illegal, but very Cuban cigars. Your father forgets to scowl in the face of some of the most expensive bourbon in the world.

For your sister, he somehow senses that material objects won’t go as far, so he endears himself to your niece first. Asking her questions about her doll, about her school, what she likes to play with her friends and how crazy it is that hopscotch is his favorite game too.

In twenty minutes, he’s on his hands and knees, black sleeves pulled up over his immaculate forearms, and etching out a hopscotch board with pink chalk. He nods and interjects while your niece runs around him, demanding a dragon in the corner, or a crown in another, and suddenly your biological clock starts blaring like an air-raid siren.

“He’s so good with kids,” your sister mutters to you from the door to the garage. A single glance tells you she’s under the same effect of watching a hot man play with a child. You’re so aroused and confused you can’t even eye her with jealousy.

“Mhmm hmm.”

“When are you going to have some of your own?”

And you’re back inside before you can see the look on his face as he lifts his head.

It would be insulting to call it eerie.

It’s not like he’s physically incapable of smelling clean, or dressing nice, or even combing his hair. You’ve seen him do it time and time again for galas and interviews. Hell, that time he took you on a date to get sushi in the tallest building in Toronto, he didn’t look that much different from how he does right now . . . and yet . . .

You feel your face scrunch in suspicion when he remembers your aunt’s food allergies, how your Uncle Rick likes his after-dinner coffee.

Dieter might forget to put on pants, but he’s never forgotten the important dates of your relationship. He remembers what you were wearing the first night you kissed, but can’t remember to take out the pizza before it burns in the oven.

This, this Dieter, feels wrong.

You watch him laugh with your father and uncle by the fireplace with brandy in his hands as you work with your mother and sister to unwrap a dozen saran-wrapped pies. He comes by later and takes the stack of plates from your mother’s hands and assures her he’ll do the dishes, as thanks for such a wonderful meal.

This Dieter Bravo needs a smoking jacket and uses words like “wonderful meal”.

Initial surprise at his near magical transformation from the car this morning long gone, you sit with this uncomfortable feeling, as everyone around you eats pie and laughs and looks all the part of a fucking Hallmark card for “joyful festivities”, long enough to finally understand it for what it is:

Anger.

Shame. Guilt.

Hot embarrassment.

You look at the man who’s invaded your boyfriend’s body as he charms the pants off your mother and father, and ugly, heavy embarrassment boils over in your chest. Washing the knife in your throat down with your fourth glass of wine all night, you excuse yourself with the last bit of breath in your lungs before ducking upstairs, then stumbling to your childhood bathroom you once shared, and share again, with your sister.

You lock the door forcefully in lieu of slamming it shut and sit down on the tile, your head against your knees. Rationally, there’s a part of you that knows this shouldn’t affect you like it is. Women would kill for a boyfriend like this – your sister very nearly jumped him in the garage.

But that’s just the thing – this isn’t your boyfriend. This isn’t the man you spend your days and nights with and this isn’t the man you fell in love with. This isn’t the Dieter you want to show the world.

A soft knock comes from the other side of the door and it breaks you out of your self-deprecating spiral.

“Just a second,” you call out as you stand. You flush the empty toilet (this night is filled with ruses after all) and twitch the faucet on for two seconds. But when you open the door, you’re immediately cowed back in.

“Dieter, what are you–,”

“Are you okay?” Beneath the veneer of the Million Dollar Man, his eyes are soft, coaxing the anxiety out of you. “You looked pale when you left.” He tucks an escaped strand of hair over your ear, watching how his fingers brush up against your skin. He gently tangles his fingers in your hair as he pulls back. He smirks. “Mom’s dressing wasn’t that bad.”

White-hot shame blooms again and you turn your head from him, tugging your hair out of his reach. You catch his hurt expression out of the corner of your eye.

“I’m fine. Just needed some air.”

“You’re not a good liar. I’ve told you that.” His voice is clipped. Not irritated, but not interested in lengthy bouts of misdirection either.

“Well, I don’t feel like bearing my problems to Mr. Perfect.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He crosses his arms, shoulders swelling in the space of the tiny bathroom, and he leans on the sink.

“It means you’re a better liar than me so I guess you’ll have to do it for the both of us.”

You know it’s ridiculous to try and move around him – but maybe this Dieter wouldn’t care if you left angry. Even sober, he could manhandle you without a second thought, but between the heat of the drink in your throat and he’s blurred at the edges, you know you’re fighting a losing battle.

“Dieter, please, just –,”

He stands his ground, effectively blocking the door, and you huff, pushing up against his waist with your hands, your teeth bared behind your lips. He steps back, you think you’ve won a mile, but then his hands grasp so firmly around your elbows, your entire consciousness is pulled into where his fingers curl against your skin.

He gently, but seriously, shakes you slightly.

“Stop fighting me. You tell me what I did wrong and we’ll talk about this.”

The past two weeks of dread, and fear, and worry, and shame – shame that this is your family, this is how you go to pieces around them, this is all you can offer him – slam into your chest and your breathing hitches. The fingers at his chest dig into his shirt. The fourth glass of wine makes your eyes hot and tight.

“This isn’t you.”

You grimace in the bright light of the bathroom and your confession. But beyond your closed eyes, his demeanor hasn’t changed.

“What’s not me?”

A tear slips out the moment you open your mouth, your throat closing and gagging on your words. You swallow and try again, eyes peeling open to stare at the curve of his shoulder.

“You’re Dieter Bravo. You dry-clean your favorite pajamas to preserve the material. You do astrology charts of people who piss you off to find out how to best get back at them. You paint until four in the morning and sleep in our bed until I wake you up–,”

Your heart thrusts its way into your airways and cuts off your ability to speak. You know you’re not making a lot of sense, but all you can think of right now is how much you want to peel this fucking black, Steve Jobs-esque, goddamn ugly-ass turtleneck apart with your bare hands. Like freeing a mermaid from a net. He squeezes your waist, his broad palm settled in the curve of your lower back.

“Darling, I don’t see why this has you so sad –,”

“They won’t fall in love with you like I did.” You lift your watery gaze to him, unable to stop the spilling of tears. You always got teary when you drank a bit too much, but fuck, if you didn’t love him so much, you wouldn’t be so mad . . . at yourself. “I hate that you feel like you have to do this to be accepted by my family. I hate that they can’t see what makes you so special to me. I hate . . . I hate that they don’t see the real you.”

And out of nowhere, he smiles.

Never one to shy away from bodily fluids, Dieter kisses your tear-soaked cheeks, his hands rising up your back, taking their time to press into the curve of your hips, the bones of your ribs, the high arch of your spine, before settling on your cheeks. He kisses your wet mouth, thumbs against the corners of your lips like a soft leather bridle. He holds you, just like that, until your heart eases, stops racing in your chest, and you lean more into the kiss, chasing instead of hiding. You wrap your fingers around his wrists as he pulls away.

“With all due respect, this is just another gig for me.” His gentle smile hides no bitterness, no anger. No disgust. “I know what people like this are like, how they think, what they want. What they value.” He smears away the cold tears from your skin with his thumbs. “It’s fun, in a way, to infiltrate their little circles. It’s all fake, it’s all bullshit, and fortunately I’m fantastic at bullshit.”

You let out a watery laugh and he reaches behind you for some toilet paper to dry your tears. He blots your eyes for you before you can even take the tissue.

“You’re not forcing me to do anything, baby,” he murmurs. “My family was exactly the same way, so I know how the game is played.”

“Yeah, and you don’t talk to them anymore. I just wish I had your bravery to cut them out of my life like you did.”

Dieter’s mouth twitches. “Well, that had more to do with the fact that I like to occasionally make out with boys, than dysfunctional family dynamics.”

You squeeze his forearm as he continues to clean your face, trying to catch his eyes but they’d gone hard where a moment ago they were soft. He thinks, using the silence to carefully fix your make up with his thick thumb under your eyelashes to lift off the smeared mascara.

He didn’t talk much about his life before Hollywood, but when he did, you understood why he was so closed off about it.

“Let’s put it this way: they did the cutting off, not me. And even if we have to be completely different people, your family still talks to you. I’m not saying that to guilt you, or compare trauma scars, but . . . most times we can’t pick who we love, but sometimes we have to.”

You nod, a sense of ease washing over you. His small, I don’t know if I should say this but I’m gonna smile widens across his mouth.

“It’s okay if they don’t see the real me, because I know you do.” He finally pulls away the tissue, his mouth pulled up in sweet earnest. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

A physical string connected between your ribs and his could not have tugged you faster. Tripping into his wide, warm chest, you drop your head onto his collarbone as you wrap your arms around his torso tighter than his own rib cage.

“Just . . .”

His bulky arms pull you into his chest, the bristles of his beard scratching at your temple. It’s not until you sink away from your own thoughts, into the silence in the bathroom, that you realize your breathing is synced with his.

That realization hits you particularly hard, that without trying, without meaning to, you become one with him – you turn and bury your face into the pulse of his neck. If you can get to his heartbeat, maybe that’ll calm you too. Dig through the crust of the earth and end up in China. You shift in his arms, and he does too. Dieter cups the back of your head, thumb rubbing the arch of your skull. His entire arm circles your back.

“What do you need, hm, baby? What can I give you, huh?”

You know he doesn’t mean it like that, but the girth, the weight of his voice has your toes curling in your shoes. His rasp is so often used to light that first spark.

“Dieter –,” the moment shifts and so do you. You squirm, itching for his face in your hands, his mouth over yours, but he holds you steady. Holds you firm. So firm, you can feel he’s half-hard in his jeans.

Oh.

Maybe he did mean it like that.

You press your tongue against his pulse point, your fingers splayed across the back of his rib cage, and he shudders. You’re about to bite down, when his hands peel your fingers from his back and pinch your wrists in one single, meaty grip. Heart suddenly thundering in your chest, he steps back to allow for just enough room to turn you – barely any at all – and pushes you face down on the sink counter, your wrists clasped over your ass behind you.

Cold marble pressing up against your tits, your face turned towards the window and the towel bar where you used to hang your Barbie swimsuits when you were seven, you feel his other massive palm dip under your sweater and press flat against the ridges of your spine. He hums when you let out a small whine. Flexes his fingers when you wiggle your ass against him. You seek out the marble with your cheek, heat rising under your skin, arousal suddenly burning hot in your low belly.

“This is what you need, hm, baby? Need me to touch you? To feel you?” He murmurs. Dieter always did like playing with his food. You nod helplessly, cheek sticky against the marble. He shifts his hips into the crack of your ass, with just enough pressure to have you bucking back against him, but not enough to find relief from the stirring between your legs.

He strokes your hair away from your neck, fingers brushing over your collarbone, gaze languid and slow. Like he can see where he needs to pluck to unravel you.

“Why is my baby so tense?” He muses quietly, patronizing. His hand maps your spine in a single palm, edging slowly up your back until, with two fingers, he pinches your bra open. You feel the snap of the release and you rub your nose against the edge of the counter, whimpering. “Don’t I take care of you?”

You gulp. “Y-y-yes, you treat– treat me so good. I want it.”

He has you pressed too tightly against the counter to slip his hand down your front, the edge pinching your hips. So, instead, with your hands still pinned against your tailbone, he palms your ass and rubs a thick finger down between your legs and up over the seam of your jeans. The whine building in your throat breaks into an open moan when he presses your zipper teeth into your clit.

“Want what? Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”

“F-fingers – tongue – fuck – y-your cock. Anything inside me.”

The surprised, breathless chuckle that reverberates down to the button of his jeans seared against your ass has you bending, stretching, just for a glimpse of his face in the mirror.

His mouth open, tongue curling back and forth over his bottom lip, he’s hungry. Wants so much. Can’t satiate this need without something between his teeth. Grinning around a mouthful of incisors. Patience has never been Dieter’s strong suit.

With a firm jerk around your wrists, your back arches up off the counter, shoulders pinched, hands caught low near his groin. You know he wants you to watch him touch you in the mirror – he’s stopped before when you close your eyes – but it’s hard to look at the woman reflected back at you, with her bleary eyes, mussed hair, heaving chest, and exposed belly button where his hand hovers between the waistband and a green sweater, and recognize yourself.

“No one can take you from me. Do you understand?” He dips his head, arched nose dragging up the curve of your neck, breathing hot through his teeth against the lines where your hair and your skin meet. You can’t help but arch up into his waiting mouth. “Not your family. Not mine. You’re so greedy for me – who else is gonna make you feel this good?”

“N-no one, Dieter, no one can.”

His hand rising under your sweater, thumb first at your belly button, then up between the spread of your ribs, and finally, it catches under the wire of your bra and he tugs it down. The material rubs against your sensitive nipples – it almost stings, your body pulled taught like a bowstring – the straps falling low off your shoulders, but your sweater keeps it from falling off completely and he goes no further. You whine, eager for something other than the scratch of the bra – something warmer – and push your sensitive tits into his soft hands, but his hand drops, fingering the waistline of your jeans instead. He ignores what you want to show you what you need.

This is a thing he did. He watched you wind yourself up with deadlines and scheduling and meetings and arguments on set and and doubt and worry and fear and then he took it upon himself to tire you out enough that all of it shattered – crashed and consumed under the white noise in your head. Dieter liked to play however you needed it.

You can feel the seam of his jeans hover just beyond your fingertips, as though his hips swing unconsciously forward while he nips and sucks on your neck. God, you’d give anything to have the weight of him between your palms.

When he speaks again, you realize at some point you squeezed your eyes shut, forgoing sight to chase the sensation that sparks across your skin every time he touched a new bare patch of skin on you. He pulls his head up from fixating a tender purple blush just below where your sweater covers your shoulder to catch your gaze in the mirror. Panthers do not watch with such hungry eyes.

“Arms up.” It’s not a command, a request, but the words drip from his mouth, rich and sweet. He lets go of your wrists and your arms flutter above you, his fingers already rolling up the edge of your sweater. He drags it up, snagging your loose bra with it, and peeling them both off you. The immediate heat of his chest on your bare back is so hot, it burns cold.

“Dieter,” you cry, nipples hardening in the cold air, goosebumps spiraling out along your skin. He’s there for you in an instant.

He bites the soft, invisible hairs at your jaw, thick paws coming up to clutch your breasts, the sudden swap in temperature making your head swim. He pulls you against his chest, a new outer skin that breathes and moans and gasps, one that has a steady heartbeat your own has synced to.

With his eyes fixated on you in the mirror, he molds your breast to his palm, rounding your nipples with his thumbs before sliding down between the curves of them. He licks the back of your neck.

“Face down, baby,” he says.

“But it’s cold,” you huff, pouting. You smooth your hands over his, his angular wrists, his broad thick forearms entombed in long back sleeves, then settle with your fingers in his hair. His height over you has your torso stretched, your tits bare and ripe, and he palms your stomach to the top of your ribs in two hands. He grunts when you twist his curls, keeping his head still so every bruise and wet spot on your shoulders and throat are all too visible. “Don’t you want to see all your good work?”

He blinks, slow and purposeful, his eyelids heavy, mouth parting. You can’t be sure of his decision, of what he wants, what he’s going to give, when his hands arch up the cradle of your arms, soft enough to tickle below your elbows, then around your wrists. He’s done this enough for you to know he wants you to let go.

You do.

Fast as venom moves from fangs to flesh, he plants your hands on the counter, forcibly gripping the edge. This is how you hold on.

He steps up against you again, iron-hot cock pressing without hesitancy between your ass cheeks, and unbuckles your pants without preamble.

“I’d rather just show you.”

Broad hand bending your shoulders forward, fingers pressed flat over your shoulder, you gasp when your tits make contact with the cold counter, and an instant later, he’s filling your open mouth with his fingers. He wets them against the slip of your tongue and grabs your jaw.

Your mind fracturing like cracking ice, you don’t hear the zip of his jeans, the groan as he takes himself out – barely feel the rub along your wet slit, the arranging of his fingers around your bare hip, the widening of your stance with his ankle.

But you do feel it when he’s suddenly hilt-deep inside of you.

You lurch forward with the weight of it, whining as though scalded at the sudden blinding pressure of pleasure and pain, and you slap a palm against the mirror to keep yourself from shattering through it. Behind you, Dieter looks like someone dislocated his kneecaps.

“You good, baby?” He pants, drawing his hand out of your mouth, wet spit between his fingers as he cups your hanging breast. The sensation bleeds hot, then cold. Unable to help himself, he nuzzles your shoulder blades.

You nod, eyes shut, the magnetic north sense of you spinning wildly off-kilter as you try to gulp in as much air as you can. You know you’re about to lose it anyway. He stands upright, not so much as inching out of you, when he plants his feet and nestles your ass against his hip bones, hands wiggling you further down his cock.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

It’s said with such wonder, a breathless reverence, that you think he might not have realized he said it out loud. You glance over your shoulder, turning your head instead of finding him in the mirror.

The facade of the Brooklyn banker is gone. Your Dieter stares, awe-struck, at the body he’s got impaled on his cock like it’s the first time he’s seen a naked woman. Soft, pliant, eager to please, your Dieter lets you collar him, peg him, and give it to you exactly as you ask.

“How do you want it?” The phrase is so familiar, so intimate when spoken from his pink lips, you shudder, a Pavlovian response that’s got you drooling somewhere else than your mouth. He lifts his gaze and finds you staring.

There is no one else in that moment. Not a single living soul besides you and him in this white-tiled bathroom. You can almost hear the absence of people ringing in your ears. His open, hot mouth draws your eyes away from his and you want every bit of him as stuffed up inside you as you can handle. Twisted around, you lick his bottom lip over your shoulder before offering your tongue for him to suck.

He groans, and you breathe in intimacy you’ve never experienced before. A flushed ache rises from your chest, a precursor to the aches he’ll leave you with by morning.

You tip your head back and thumb the bristly skin against his chin.

“Hard, baby. Please.”

For all his faults, for all his forgetting, Dieter switches brain waves as fast as you do, tethered together like the gravitational spin of space rocks in the wake of a gleaming comet.

“Okay.”

He distracts you from the pain of that first rough thrust by biting down on your shoulder.

His motions are short, targeted, and right up into the cradle of your cervix, the pace driven, unrelenting and hard. You shake with the force of them, as fragile as silverware on a table near the drop of an atom bomb.

“Oh – fuck, Dieter–,”

He pins your arm that had touched his chin to your chest, then his chest to your back, sealing your damp skin to his shirt. The curl of that wretched black turtleneck scratches deliciously against your low back.

Grunting in low, short bursts, Dieter sabotages his own breathing by crushing you so tight to his chest. He sucks on your neck as if to draw the oxygen straight from your blood. The fingers on your hip steady you, just for his cock wrecks your insides.

“You wan-na – ngh – you wanna know why it doesn’t bother me?”

Each word is spat out from between his teeth. He’s giving you your requested punishment as much as he is sprinting after his own release.

“Tell me. Tell me please.” Your voice is scraped raw, breathless and gooey at the same time.

“Because when you’re my wife, they won’t be able to do a fucking thing about it.”

Around him, your cunt squeezes, his words sending shocks through your nerves. You whine as if he’d smacked your ass.

“I fucking felt that. You like that. You want that. You want my fucking cock every day.”

Again, he plants your hands on the cold counter.

“Push back against me, baby.” You anchor yourself, ass out, elbows and knees locked. “That’s it, that’s my fucking good girl.”

He lifts his body up right, off your sweaty neck and back, and with both hands pinching your waist, he yanks you up and down on his cock in long, rough thrusts, knees bending with enough force to send you onto your toes.

“Gonna have to take it. Just – fucking – take – it –,”

His leaking cock drives up against that spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll back and body tense again and again, but yanks back before that hot feeling swells. It’s so close you’re dizzy from it.

You want to fuck yourself on his cock but you can’t time your aching hips right, so you stop trying and bend forward more, exposing more of your cunt to him.

“Dieter, please –,”

“Baby, you gotta be quiet. I know you feel good, but you can’t let them hear us.”

The words are out of your mouth, breaking through the thick, drowning fog and through the hindbrain barrier.

“Fuck them. Let them hear.”

Dieter’s hips slow, punch not as deeply, as if he’s curious what you’re going to say next.

“Take off your shirt. I wanna feel your skin.”

He listens immediately, a very good boy at heart, and the first press of his soft chest against you nearly has you coming then.

“Harder again, please.”

Again, without a second’s hesitation, he kisses your ear before grappling your shoulder with one hand and your hip with the other and he takes up his position as owner and keeper of your sloppy cunt.

You cry out, high and wrecked, some semblance of sanity knowing you’re being far too loud, and he bucks the words out of you.

“I wanna suck on your earring, Dieter.” He grunts as he doubles over as if trying to yank back an unrestrained and early release. He rubs his damp forehead in the patch of soft skin by your shoulder blade.

“Say it again.”

With every rock of his hips, you swing up higher, and higher, your thighs tensing, nails scraping the counter.

“Wanna put it between my lips and suck until you’re cherry red. I wanna choke on your rings. So far down my throat I gag. Wanna – wanna – lick your tattoos – all of them – ‘til the ink blurs from my spit. I –,”

The noise he makes is pained, weak, a man at the end of his rope.

He pops your ass. “Shut up. You’re gonna come now.”

His sweaty palms slip against the soft skin of your hips, and he keeps slipping with no leverage.

“Stand on your toes.” You do and for an absurd second, you think he’s going to pick you up in a bear hug. He wraps his arms around your rib cage, his face nestled into the hot, sticky curve of your neck, in the flipped image of when he takes you after your legs get sore from riding him. Your tits spilling over his forearms, he keeps the ludicrous bend in your spine as well as the short, rough pace. You reach your fingers around the back of his head and hold on for dear life.

The change in angle has stars blowing across your eyes, has you whimpering strings of pleas, veneration, and curses all threaded together. His own thighs shaking, he rubs the pads of three of his fingers across your clit and you’re over the edge.

“Oh – oh, shit –,”

The electrical storm that’s been building one wiry shock at a time finally bursts and you go rigid from head to toe, turning to marble, to steel, bright and sharp. You can feel your own release dribble down your thigh, Dieter stuttering behind you.

“Wait – fuck,”

He tries to speed up, or press harder, but he’s coming so hard you feel it expand your cunt and ends up just making a leaking mess. The sensation shivers you through another minor wave. The crest goes high, then crashes, and you slump forward, cold nips be damned, and he follows you down a second later.

The heated weight at your back and hard, cool marble squishing your tits is too much for your dazed brain to handle. Any looser and you might slip off the edge of the earth.

Dieter seems to be in a similar state. He not so much pulls out of you as he goes weak-kneed to the floor. A single tug on your hip has you stumbling down with him.

Despite the garland around the stairs, despite the smell of cranberries in the air, despite the veneer of perfect holiday wholesomeness, it’s the slick layer of sweat, grime, and cum over your skin that has you finally smiling.

You recognize you have been gone far too long – there’s not enough spiked hot cider in the world to ignore two missing bodies and a locked door. Dieter puts his barefoot preemptively up against the door frame and you giggle into his shoulder.

“Oh, there’s the sound I’ve been missing!” He nuzzles you, a blissful smile breaking open his face, sunlight over storm clouds. He wiggles beneath you, trying to tug you on top of him, but with your jeans constricting your thighs, and his barely below his hips, all it really accomplishes is the two of you rolling around on the bathroom floor.

In a heap of limbs, slick skin, his knee catching the button of your jeans, you bump your nose against his chin, there’s something bright building in your chest – it’s twisting your mouth, pinching your cheeks – his fingers grab your elbow, his eyes lock into yours –

And you’re laughing.

You’re laughing too loud, all pretense gone. You can’t honestly care what they’re thinking downstairs.

He manages to get you under him, his damp hair clinging to his temples and tangling down in frizzy strands.

“I’m gonna say this and I need you to actually hear me.”

You nod, grinning up at him and lightly tracing his clavicle.

He swats at your hand and holds it to your chest.

“Don’t wait until it’s that bad, okay?” You chuckle and he bites the tip of your nose. “Listen to me, you little goblin, I’m trying to be serious for a second.”

You settle under him, fingers intertwining with his over your chest. Sincere Dieter is a beautiful thing to look at.

“This holiday bullshit can be a lot. Spent a lot of them either in coke up to my eyeballs, or in the bathroom the next day. It fucking sucks that these are the people we can from, but we can’t change that. What’s important is the family we build right now–,”

Your mouth drops open, his words suddenly illuminating a future that had always seemed so blurry and distant.

“Dieter, I –,”

“I’m gonna marry you someday, so let’s start with us.” He kisses the back of your hand. “We carry each other, okay?”

You nod, the white light of that future searing a hole in your chest, exposing your heart to the open air, and bringing tears to your eyes. You nod, more assured, before kissing him on his bottom lip.

“Okay.”

The next few minutes play out just like they would if you were at home: cleaning each other up, trying on clothes only to realize he grabbed your sweater instead, and bumping affectionate kisses wherever they could reach.

At the top of the stairs, you don’t know what awaits you in the living room. What exactly you’ll be returning to. Who will catch you and who won’t.

But it doesn’t matter. His hand is around yours and he’s grinning petulantly against all the world.

Is Dieter Bravo someone you could rely on?

Your heart says yes.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic #the bubble fanfic #the bubble #pedro pascal #merry thanksgiving nonsense 2023

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 2 months ago

Text

Gold Rush

Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Rating: Teen. Summary: It's the day after your husband left you, Dieter still remains, is his presence and support the reason why you feel okay? Warnings: pov switching, pining, fluff, comfort, marijuana use, champagne, drunken feelings, confessions using a taylor swift song, pizza Words: 5,330

A/N: Golden Girl and Dieter have not left my mind since I wrote them. I couldn't believe how much @almostfoxglove's gorgeous moodboard (see above) that she created with my prompts of "Dieter x adoration x gold" matched my ideas for the follow-up sooo I wrote it out. I hope you enjoy.

Previous Chapter Masterlist

***

You’re awoken by a grumbling snore and a solid heat pressed against your cheek. Your tired eyes blink open and are greeted by a faded wine stained heather gray chest. Dieter.

For a split second, there is confusion, a moment of panic flickers through you. Then it all comes back to you–the heartbreak of yesterday.

The flood of emotions, the tears, Warren’s cold, unblinking blue eyes as he told you he’d fallen in love with someone else. No remorse. Just the simple truth, delivered in his same steady voice he’d use for his clients, as if your marriage now meant nothing. And then he was gone, walking out of the door you’d painted his favorite color green. Then, your shaking hands calling the only person you knew who would be there for you. Dieter.

You don’t know if it was the exhaustion of your marriage ending or Dieter’s body against yours, but you haven’t slept that deeply in years.

Now, you gently pull away, your gaze lingering on him as he sleeps. Fluffy, tousled hair fans across the pillow, his parted plush lips gently percolate out snores. The lines of stress and mischief that crease his face are much gentler and relaxed in his slumber. The sunlight peeking through the curtain casts a golden strip across his face that turns his skin amber and his dark hair almost hazel.

You usually don’t allow yourself to stare at him like this, constantly fighting the pull you’ve always felt towards him, like an invisible string that keeps getting tangled and knotted. That night in the dive bar–years ago–kissing his whiskey soaked lips, feeling the deep rumble of laughter left against your lips when you finally pulled away. You could have had him then.

But you didn’t. You were too enamored by his handsome blue-eyed friend. Warren.

Warren, who said all the right thing, who made you believe everything you wanted to hear, even if half of it was lies. You feel so idiotic.

Dieter’s breathing is steady, his broad chest rises and falls keeping time with the soft hum of his snores. The gold hoop of his earring catches the light. You’ve been enamored with it since that first night you met him all those years ago. A forbidden ring held within his ear, you always wondered how it felt, to be able to freely touch him. Sometimes your hand would reach for it, before your eye would catch the glint of your wedding band. Forbidden, off limits, you’re kept by someone else.

Now, no longer answering to anyone, you let your shocking newfound independence make you happy for once. It’s just you and him, lying in the middle of the bed you bought from Pottery Barn with your ex-mother-in-law, and for the first time you don’t feel guilty for looking at him.

Slowly, almost reverently, your hand hovers over his ear, feeling the soft brush of his hair as you softly pass your finger over the metal ring, a connection to the feelings you’ve always had for him. You pull your hand away, too scared to let the emotions long-held for him take place in your heart.

“Dee,” you croak, your voice is rough from sleep and all of the tears shed from yesterday.

His eyelids flutter open, chocolate brown eyes blinking open, soft and unfocused before crinkling at the edges as a yawn stretches across his face.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice low and groggy. The warm smile he gives you makes your broken heart begin mending itself right then and there.

“It’s almost noon.”

He yawns again, his large hand brushing over his face as he props himself up. He slowly comes to life, a haze of sleep still lingering in his eyes.

“Shit, almost noon huh?” his voice rasps deep from sleep. “You okay?”

A simple question, one that you’ve been asked so few times the past few years as your marriage has grown stagnant and lifeless. You nod, though not entirely sure of your answer.

“I know it was a rough day,” he says, sympathy pouring out of his voice. “I-I’m glad you called me.”

“I am too,” you whisper.

Dieter shifts, propping himself up on one elbow, his gaze stays on you. “Warren’s an idiot,” the firmness of his voice surprises you. “He never deser–”

Right then the loud growl of your stomach interrupts.

“When’s the last time you ate?” he asks, pulling away from you.

“Uh, lunch yesterday?” It hadn’t even occurred that you’d gone that long without food.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think to see if you were hun–“

“It’s okay Dee,” you quickly reassure, “I don’t think I could’ve even eaten anything yesterday.”

He studies you for a second, his gaze softens. “Well, I make a mean bowl of cereal or I can order us breakfast if you want something more serious.”

“Cereal’s good.”

He stretches and sits up. “Coming right up,” he says, standing and moving to the door.

“You don’t know where anything is!” you call after him.

He pauses, turning back. “That’s never stopped me before,” he winks, causing butterflies to plume in your stomach, the kind you haven’t felt in ages.

The clattering of cupboards being rifled through finally makes you extract yourself from bed.

“Dee!” you shout as you walk down the hall, “I’ll grab everything!”

You send a quick glimpse into the bedroom you used to share with Warren as you tie your robe tighter and head downstairs.

The sun is glaring through the open curtains, yours and Dieter’s phones lay silent on the coffee table. Nobody knows. Warren said it was your decision over who you want to tell. How chivalrous.

“Hey,” Dieter greets you with a smile, as he puts the milk on the counter. “I found the milk and spoons.”

You shake your head, moving around him to pull two bowls out of the cupboard.

“You put the coffee on at least, that’s most important,” you say, grabbing the box of cereal from the pantry. “All I have are Corn Flakes.”

—

The domesticity of it all is not lost on him. Dieter sits next to you at the breakfast bar happily munching on his corn flakes covered in three tablespoons of sugar.

He’s had this dream so many times before. Bright sunlight shining through the kitchen window above the sink that overlooks the garden you take so much pride in, coffee in the light blue mugs with the little birds you were so proud to find at the antique store off of La Cienega, the sound of you eating and just quietly existing next to him. He never wants to wake up.

The first thing he saw today was you, your voice was the first thing he heard. It’s not a dream, it’s really happening here, in this home you used to share with his best friend–or–who used to be his best friend. Warren probably doesn’t even know he’s here, that he was the one you chose to call and to be consoled by. Too oblivious and self obsessed to realize that all these years Dieter’s been secretly in love with his wife. How could he not fall for you?

He glances towards you, wanting to tell you everything in his heart, only choosing the most obvious statement. “I’m here for you, you know that, right?”

“I know Dee, it means… a lot, but you don’t have to be here, I’m okay… really.”

“Trust me, I want to be here Sweets,” he knocks his shoulder against yours. It’s just about the only physical touch he can trust himself to make. He wants to hold you through all of this, keep your body as close to his as possible. Shield you, go to battle for you, be your soldier. All he can afford is a singular shoulder tap.

“You’ve never given me reason to not,” you sigh.

He never wants to let you down, never wants to make you feel like you’re less than deserving of the whole world. He just has to wait. Good things take time.

“What do you want to do today?”

“Not sure. Definitely get out of this robe and into some actual clothes.”

He thanks his lucky stars, as much as he loves you in the fluffy robe, his heart can’t take the brief glimpses of your upper thigh or chest as the fabric swishes across your body. “Do you want me to grab your clothes for you?”

“No, I-it’s gotta happen sooner than later… i-it’s weird, I know he just left me and everything, but–I don’t know Dee–it’s been not fun being me. Here, cooped up in this house just waiting for my husband to decide to like me and spend time with me. You know?” Your shoulders deflate, he gazes at your crestfallen side profile, still so beautiful even when you’re heartbroken.

You take a swig of coffee, he follows the lines of your delicate neck as you swallow the liquid down. Your skin is always so beautiful, but in this light, it transfixes him. “This is the fourth time he’s cheated on me.”

He coughs at your confession. His brows rise in surprise, he never knew about the others. “I-I had no idea,” he murmurs. His heart drops, how fucking dare Warren.

“We didn’t let it be known, I couldn’t deal with–anybody knowing and them judging me. He’d come back, and swear he would change. Why do you think my wedding ring kept getting bigger and bigger? He’d get me something shinier every time he’d fuck someone else… like I’m some sort of crow wife.”

He snickers, you’re still the funniest girl he’s ever met, even when you’re talking about your piece of shit husband.

“And now, NOW he's found the one. All those times I’d let him back, he told me I was the only one for him.” Tears sprout in your eyes. He thinks of all those years you’ve wasted, all those lies you believed, and now, you’re left just as empty as your cereal bowl. “I feel like a fool, he’s been cheating on me for almost a year with her. I just sat idly by, ignoring all of the cracks in the foundation, all of the same signs I had seen before, he’d call me crazy. I guess a person can only be gaslit for so long before they burn up. The house has been crumbling for the past few years, and I just kept thinking maybe it would change… and the cracks just got bigger until… he left. Now I’m left here trying to rebuild and trying to figure out what I did wrong.”

“Nothing,” he says, his voice firmer than he intended. “You did nothing wrong. Warren’s always been the ‘take what I want when I want’ type. It’s him, not you.”

You solemnly nod, eyes staring unblinking at your spoon swirling in the milky white expanse of your empty cereal bowl. “And I just had to fall in love with him. I feel so foolish.” Your voice floats into his ears, flowing down to his heart squeezing the organ that pumps only for you.

“Hey,” he whispers, “I’ve been best friends with him for almost thirty years. If you’re a fool, then I’m one too.”

You look at him, his eyes meet yours. He offers you a small smile that you return with a nod. You’re sweeter than the cereal milk he just got done slurping out of his bowl.

“Well,” you sigh, tapping the counter and breaking the miniscule moment of understanding. “I can’t do any more of this sad stuff today. I can’t be miserable all day. II know what I want to do tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, raising a curious brow.

“Yep. Drink,” you sigh. “Like, a lot.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I want to forget, just for tonight… and then tomorrow I’ll have to deal with all of the bullshit.”

He doesn’t mention to you that the last time only the two of you drank together, his marriage to Anika had just ended. Now it’s a tradition. “I can help with that. Do you need me to go grab some booze?”

“Nope,” you hop off the barstool and pad over to the wine fridge. You bend over, he strangles his napkin when he gets a glimpse of your upper thighs before he looks away. Not right now.

You pull a fancy looking bottle out of the fridge. “We were supposed to have this for our tenth anniversary. Some dumb expensive bottle of champagne he bought while we were on vacation in France.”

He grabs it from the counter top, eyebrows rising at the fancy label.

“Wow. Thirty-five year old Bollinger, huh? That’s the stuff the queen drinks.” “Of course you’d know that,” you tease, rolling your eyes as you put the champagne in the fridge. “I’m gonna clean up, hop into the shower and change. I don’t know if you want to head to your place and grab some clothes?”

He looks down at his stained shirt and pajama pants he’s been wearing since he woke up yesterday afternoon. He wasted no time in changing when he got the call from you. He could certainly also use a shower.

“If you’re okay with me leaving for a bit,” he hesitates.

“I am, really Dee,” you assure. “I’m going to head upstairs. Come over around five?”

“Five works,” he smiles. Hating the rush of nerves he feels of spending another night only with you.

“You’re the best Dee,” you smile.

He doesn’t know whether to shake Warren for leaving someone like you or thank him as he deposits his bowl in the sink and grabs his keys and phone.

—

The master bedroom is just as it was left yesterday, besides the empty side of Warren’s closet and vanity. How kind of him to move out while you’re left crying on the couch. You were his wife for eight years. Over three thousand days of marriage. A mortgage, two cars, three credit cards with unspent reward points, multiple bank accounts. God, there’s so much to do.

Not today.

Today you’re going to push down these terrible feelings, today you’re going to focus on the future of what can be once you trudge through all of this. Today you’re going to spend the day taking care of yourself and then tonight, you’re going to get drunk with your friend Dieter.

The gold frame on your bedside table catches your eye. Ah, your Australia trip last year, a surprise excursion from Warren. You’re pretty sure he was talking to her while the two of you explored the outback. You thought that trip was the beginning of something new and better for the two of you. It only took a week after your return home for him to start working late and having meetings in other states again.

You love the frame that holds the picture of better days with Warren, you found it at an antique store Dieter told you about. You’ve always loved vintage decor, Warren always preferred brand new, he never liked the idea of “other people’s trash littering his home.” You open the back of the frame, pull out the photo, and crumble it in your hands before setting the empty frame back on the table. One day, it’ll hold a picture of true happiness—one day, there will be someone else to smile with.

You shed your robe and drop it in the hamper before standing in front of your mirror. You look the same, really. Only thing that might give away your husband left you are your eyes that sit a little redder and puffier and your naked ring finger.

A glance at your phone shows a couple of missed texts and calls. Nothing important. Still no word from Warren. You feel foolish for expecting anything more from him.

All the tears you shed yesterday suddenly feel ridiculous. All those tears fell for a man who could barely be grown enough to check on how you’re doing today. You’ve read of slow burns in romance novels, but what about a slow snuff? Where your marriage just gradually dies, suffocated by indifference, until Warren’s selfishness finally snuffed it out. There’s a sense of freedom now, like you no longer have to lie to yourself. Now you just have to figure out how to move on.

You scroll to the playlist Dieter sent you a few weeks ago, smiling to yourself at the realization that as your marriage fizzled, your’s and Dieter’s friendship grew warmer. You turn the tap on as the first song plays.

'Round your city, 'round the clock Everybody needs you No, you can't make everybody equal Although you got beaucoup family You don't even got nobody bein' honest with you

Frank Ocean. Your’s and Dieter’s shared favorite. Warren can’t stand him, of course. When Dieter got tickets to a Frank Ocean concert, Warren spent the night rolling his eyes while you and Dieter screamed lyrics, danced under the strobe lights, and passed a joint back and forth. Anika and Warren stood behind you both, glued to their phones, ruining what should’ve been an unforgettable night with their sulking.

You laugh out loud to yourself at your stupidity. Why did you stay?

The shower feels good and refreshing. You scrub your skin with your favorite body scrub and use your favorite conditioner you buy from the boutique next to your favorite cafe. It’s now up to you to take care of yourself and to show yourself love. Lord knows it’s pretty much been that way for the past year.

Dieter’s playlist plays on. Every song on it you like, he never lets you down.

“You will remember When this is blown over And everything's all by the way When I grow older I will be there at your side to remind you How I still love you”

Your hands pause at the lyrics as you rub lotion across your skin. You wonder what Dieter’s thinking, what he’s thought this whole time, why he speaks to you the way he does. He’s always been such an open book, but ever since his divorce with Anika a few years ago, he’s been less readable. Your mind is crowded by the feelings you have for him, the way you liked waking up next to him this morning, the way you wish he’d never stop holding you.

You remind yourself to go shopping for some new clothes, to fill the newly acquired empty space in your closet. You find the bright robe hanging in the back of your closet. A just-because-gift from Dieter because you mentioned it had all of your favorite colors. He texted you a photo of himself getting ready for an awards show, and you pointed out how much you loved it. He handed it to you the next time he saw you with a shy grin. You try to remember the last time Warren gave you a random gift as you wrap the soft cotton around your body.

You admire yourself in the mirror remembering the way Dieter’s dark brown eyes lingered on you after you put it on. The small smile he blessed you with as he softly murmured “perfect.”

The clock reads 2:30. Just twenty-four hours ago Warren told you he’s no longer in love with you, that he had found someone else. You swallow the sadness, not today.

For the first time in a long time, today you’re going to allow yourself to look forward to something–and somebody. Dieter will be here soon.

—

He knocks on the side door three times before letting himself in. His usual Dieter entrance.

“Sweets?” he calls out, his voice echoing through the house.

“Hey!” you respond, quickly trudging down the steps.

He almost drops the pizza box on the floor, along with his jaw when he sees you.

“Great minds,” you smile looking down at his faded blue jeans–the same color as yours.

“Yeah,” he nods, “great minds.” He swears you’re his twin flame, except he burns even brighter for you. He hopes one day your heart will burn just as hot for him.

“Prime Pizza?” you excitedly say spying the familiar box from your favorite pizza place.

“Yep, also got you garlic knots,” he smiles, lifting a white takeout bag up. “And caesar salad. And vodka pasta.”

“Oh my gooooood,” you sing, grabbing the pre-rolled joint and lighter from the table. “You’re the best. Let’s eat outside.”

His heart feels like it’s going to leap out of his chest as he follows you through the french doors to your backyard. It’s a beautiful, warm evening. You’ve set the table already, the sun is just beginning to lower behind the mountains, bathing everything in golden and purple shades.

He can’t take his eyes off of you as you light the joint and take a hit. He feels ridiculous relishing the fact that his lips will be where yours just were as you hand the joint to him.

Music gently plays in the background and you hum along while opening the takeout boxes and filling your plate.

“Oh my god, this looks so good,” you gush, smiling at him. “Thanks Dee.”

Weed smoke, garlic, and laughter fill the air as the two of you share a meal.

He wishes to never wake from this dream.

—

You always loved this neighborhood at night. The winding hill overlooks downtown Los Angeles and all of its flickering traffic and brake light glory. Street lamps glow golden in the midnight haze. Dieter walks alongside you, keeping tempo with your steps growing clumsier the emptier your champagne bottle gets.

“God, it’s beautiful out,” you say, tilting your head back to gaze at the sky focusing on a singular star. You wonder what it sees as it looks down on you. Does it see the internal struggle within your heart? Your husband walked out on you yesterday, and you’ve already found solace in his best friend. Peace in the heart and mind of the best man at your wedding.

“Ooh! Grass patch! Grass patch!” you suddenly shout, running over to the grassy area just off to the side of your neighbor’s home. “Come look at the stars with me!”

Dieter follows, laying down beside you with a small huff.

“I love doing this,” you say wistfully. “Like it’s so big, and we’re so small. You know?”

“I do,” he says. “Someone in Antarctica has the same view we have. Isn’t that insane?”

“Yes!” you shout, knocking your knee against his and leaving it there. “Sometimes it’s so easy to get lost in the vastness of space.”

“It is…” he softly says.

You turn your head to find him not looking up at the stars, but right at you.

“Hi,” you giggle, a little nervous from the look in his eyes.

“You’re– I think you’re–-” he grumbles and turns to look back at the sky shaking his head. “I wonder how many satellites are recording our conversation right now.”

You follows his lead, turning back to the sky, wishing on a star that some day you’ll hear what Dieter really wanted to tell you.

—

He listens as you softly hum into the breezy night air. A pleasant smile is stretched across your face, your eyes sit a little hazier from the bottle of champagne that you’re holding by the neck.

You stop, bobbling back and forth on your feet. He grabs your arms, steadying your wobbly form. You’re much drunker now thanks to your impromptu stargazing and drinking adventure in your neighbor’s yard.

“You good?” he asks.

“Yes *hiccup* just–haven’t felt this free in awhile,” your body thuds against his chest. His heart goes into overdrive. “Like, GOD, it fucking sucks, but also like, fuck Warren, he didn’t deserve ME.”

He wants to tell you how much he agrees, he wants to pour his rapid beating heart out to you in the middle of this quiet neighborhood. He doesn’t, you’re going through enough, and he respects–nay–loves you far too much to divulge his years-long secret devotion to you.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Fuck Warren.”

“Fuck Warren!” you giggle. “God that feels good.”

“FUCK WARREEEEENNNNN!” you shout, your voice echoing off the canyon walls.

“Whoa, whoa, okay okay, it’s too late; let’s not wake up the neighbors, pretty girl.”

His throat closes at the slip. Panic grips his body.

You take a swig of your champagne.

“Pretty?” you turn in his arms. “You think that— I”m pretty?”

Your beautiful face and those eyes of yours, the same he thinks about waking up to, is lit by the full moon, glistening in the nighttime glow. You’re so gorgeous.

“Always have, Golden Girl,” he sees the line drawn and he steps over it. He’s famous for not listening, for saying it fuck it to the plainly written out rules. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your throat lets out an unbelieving laugh. “D’awww, Dee thinks I’m pretttttyyyyyyyyy,” you sing-song, swaying in his arms.

“Alright now, you’re pretty far gone. Let’s get you home, pretty.”

“Dieter Bravo finds me pretty. I’d say Warren’s going to be sooooo mad, but FUCK WARREN!” Another battle cry against your husband echoes across the neighborhood.

“Shhhhh,” he wraps his arms around you tighter, turning you to walk back up the road to your home.

His arms stay around you the whole walk up the hill back to your house. He can smell the sweet scent of your honey shampoo. Your back is molded to his front and yet, the lust for you doesn’t course through his veins like it normally does. There’s something else. Adoration, longing, yearning. His need for your heart overshadows his want for your body. Your footsteps commingle with his in the quiet Los Angeles night.

Your house comes into view, the white picket fence surrounds the colonial two story that you fell in love with. “Dee! It’s a Jimmy Stewart house!” you excitedly shouted when he pulled into the driveway after you and Warren got the keys. He was so happy for you, and yet so jealous of Warren. Now he walks you up the walkway to your door. Now he punches the code in on the keypad and lets you in. Now he catches your arm as you almost trip over the rug. Now he holds you close as you giggle against his chest. Too drunk and bubbly, he wishes he could keep you this happy.

“Dee?” you tilt your head up to look at him.

“Yeah?” his eyes meet your bleary eyes.

“Is it okay that I’m this happy right now?” your voice drops, the shame in it slurs it even more.

“Any emotion you have at this exact moment is okay,” he reassures with a smile.

Your body jumps against his with a hiccup. “Oh my god, I’m so drunk!” you giggle.

“You are. You need some food and a glass of water.”

He’s only allowed himself a couple sips tonight, not wanting to get plastered and not be there to take care of you in case you need him. He can’t remember the last time he didn’t say no to a drink.

He settles you on the couch before heading to the kitchen to find you some sustenance to soak up your drunkenness.

Saltines, you always have saltines. You swear that cheddar cheese on saltines is the greatest food ever, he loves how passionate you are about such a ridiculous opinion. He fills the biggest glass with water from the fridge before adding a couple cubes of ice, he knows how much you love your ice water. He likes taking care of you, he likes trying his damnedest to make you feel better. He wishes he could take care of you every single day and prove to you just how special you are.

He almost drops the glass of water and sleeve of crackers when he walks into your living room.

You’re perched on a small island of carpet surrounded by records strewn across the floor. He was gone for only three minutes and you’ve already emptied two entire shelves.

—

You’re holding a single LP in your hands and staring down at it. Track three. The song that makes you think of Dieter.

“Can I play you a song?” you look up, your bloodshot eyes gaze determinedly at him.

The record player sizzles and crackles an ambient hum while awaiting his answer.

“Of course,” he says, walking over and lightly tapping a trail of records out of the way with his foot.

You tilt your head up and nod, before turning and putting the record on the turntable. Your hands tremble as you lower the needle into the groove for the track you want him to hear.

“It makes me think of… you,” you whisper as the song begins.

Gleaming Twinkling Eyes like sinking ships On waters so inviting I almost jump in

He settles across from you, cross legged, joining you on your island in the sea of scattered vinyl. Just you and Dee in the middle of your living room. It was only twenty-four hours ago he held you as you mourned the loss of your marriage.

Now, he sits quietly, elbows resting on his knees with his chin resting on his thumbs, listening to the song. The song that makes you think of him.

Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you Walk past, quick brush

You’re too brave, the champagne has given you too much permission to bring up those long held desires for your husband’s best friend. If you had chosen him that night in that dive bar, would everything be different today?

His eyes are closed, oblivious to the turmoil that storms within your heart.

What must it be like To grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes My mind turns your life into folklore I can't dare to dream about you anymore

He slowly nods along to the beat, the golden earring in his ear catches your eye again. Your fingers pulsate, the bare ring finger on your left hand allows you the permission. He’ll feel it now, he’ll understand, he’ll know of your desires.

You reach out, your shaky hand makes contact with his soft hair, and the earring. His eyes open wide and shocked at your touch.

Gleaming Twinkling Eyes like sinking ships On waters so inviting I almost jump in

“Oh, Sweets,” he whispers as the record crackles in between songs. His hand captures yours, pressing it against his head. “I–it’s—you know–”

“I know,” tears well in your eyes, “but I’ve known.”

He thickly gulps, swallowing down the words you long to hear him say. Instead, he moves your hand to rest against his heart.

“You are every–he never deserved you and I’m sorry I didn’t say it any sooner. I’m a coward–but–I’m going to do better for you. It’s— you have so much going on. I will be here for you, but I can’t do that to you… not now.”

“What if I want it? What if I’ve wanted it since… we met?”

He smirks. “I want it too–but not like this–not so soon.”

Your head drops, suddenly you feel quite sober. Embarrassment will do that.

“Sweets,” he whispers. “Look at me. You’re my Golden Girl. You have been. Always.”

Your eyes stare into his, his glassy brown eyes reflect yours, tears welling at the edge.

“That's the blank, unholy surprise of it. You're the golden girl, Sweets. Full of life and warmth and delight.”

He gently pulls you closer, settling you on his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

“Of course you’d use my favorite movie to make me feel better,” you say, settling your head against his broad chest.

“I’ll do anything to make you feel better, Golden Girl.”

He holds you, gently rocking back and forth to the music until the record ends.

That night, you sleep in that same guest room bed, wrapped in Dieter’s strong arms, protected from the spiral of negativity you’ll soon wake up to.

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