#if you like seeing bill pathetic this fic is for you

[multifariousmayhem]

new chapter! no idea why is not showing like before when i insert the link here?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61816408/chapters/161366806

i really like this one and the next one, next one is gonna be great. dont miss it

[errruvande]

WHAT WE DO IN THE TOILET

Pairing: Thanos (Choi Su-Bong) x Fem!Reader

Summery: what if you stumbled upon your fucking ex boyfriend in a squid game toilet?

Triggers: SMUT, oral (both receiving), fingering, a bit of a dirty talk

A/N: first squid game smut, second smut fic in almost 10 years from me 🫡 English is not my native, so please, bear with it if you find a mistake, cause I'd die from embarrassment

A/N #2: dialogue formatted like this said by Thanos in English

Word count: 4k

Once you gave yourself a word that you will never meet him again in your life. You'd been trying to support him through his, not to say the list, pretty feeble rapping career, keeping him hyped up when his new tracks didn't hit the numbers he hoped for yet again. It was before he started investing his money into the crypt. You were the first one to say that this cryptocurrency shit was definitely a scum, but Su-Bong couldn't care less to listen, he had too much fun getting the first money back, doubled in number.

"This is all scum, Su!.." you once rattled at him, seeing Su-Bong changing yet another thousands of won to that crypto shit.

"We're gonna be fucking rich can't you see, señorita???" He grabbed the multicolored cash in his hands, throwing the money up in the air like a confetti. "I'm gonna win this life, baby!"

You only rolled your eyes at him, grabbing one 5000 won bill and making your way out of the room. "I'll look at your dumb ass when you invest all of your stupid money in this and they'll fuck you up, señor."

Now, you wandered how low did he fall to appear in this fucking shit hole. How many layers of buttom did his smoked, stoned ass broke to land on that pile of cow shit. How much debts did he have now? Definitely more than you, but how much more? Though after hearing some players' debts, you thought of your own to be a mild inconvenience.

You saw his head popping out from the crowd, the tallest guy in the group, as he always has been, with his head glowing purple in the dull green room. Thanos. You only prayed for him to not notice you, cause above all else, you would not stress his pathetically comical attempts into being not only a rapper, that you've already learned to stomach, but a comedian.

You were led out of the room, up and up and up by the pink strais that looked as if it have been snatched straight out of the psych test picture. Once you were high enough, you were instructed to go though the huge, massive doors leading to the open playground.

You saw him clinging to the pretty girl immediately after all of the players entered the playground, it didn't really sting, but it tugged on something buried deep down beneath the layers of indifference you've grown throughout the last year and the half.

"Hey, señorita."

You turned your head instinctively on the word. It was your word. You didn't know why, but when Su-Bong called that random girl señorita, you felt that string snapping inside you, that definitely did sting. It stinged even more, when you saw Su-Bong getting all turned on when the girl sent him off, rolling her eyes in a sheer annoyance.

Fuck him. Fuck him. FUCK HIM

You shouldn't have felt anything. Not for him, not after all of this hardships of getting him off of your mind after you two broke up.

Somehow, the thoughts of your past relationships overstaffed your head, you were running and ceasing on autopilot while you brain suffered the memories of you and Su-Bong having the time of your lives.

You didn't register how you crossed the finish line, slithering further away from the doll through the panicking players right until you felt two big heavy palm on your shoulders. The heaviness that was too familiar, and the fingers that clawed your bones with such familiarity you haven't felt for far too long.

"Babe!" The loud shriek Su-Bong forced to come out sent shivers down your body. When you looked up at him, his face was gleaming as he was laughing and studying you head to toes. "My fucking Nebula baby is here, like damn bro we're gonna be unstoppable!"

"Don't fucking call me that..." You shook his hands off you, turning on the tips of your boots, trying to get closer to the pink soldiers standing next to the doors.

"Babe, don't you want to ask me how I've been?" Purplehead grabbed you by the wrist, motioning you to swirl back to face him once more. He bent untill he somewhat leveled to your height, his face perfectly positioned in front of yours, eyes on the same level. You hated to admit that he still was as handsome as you remembered, face so fuckable the only look at it made your stomach swirling.

"What point in asking if you're here?" You tried to maintain the annoyance, but felt your voice cracking just fairly a bit, which was enough to catch a sardonic smile on Su-Bong's face, right before the words settled in his head and his face tensed with thinking.

The metal dome covered the sunlight and the pink soldiers opened the doors, making all of the remaining players to walk back to the main room, dumbfounded. Some rat looking guy snatched Thanos from your side and walked him to their beds once you entered the room. Thank you, you thought, sighting out in relief.

From your bed you saw Su-Bong and this guy from across the room. The rat guy pointed in your direction vaguely, and Su-Bong almost punched him, you could read his expression saying "shut the fuck up, man". You spent a few more minutes staring mindlessly into Thanos' direction, not exactly registering what was going on in the room, but at once you thought that the effect of the pill he swallowed during the game wore off, the comic bravado wanished from Su-Bong's face as he stared equally mindlessly into the emptiness in front of him.

After the voting you all had a little meal prepared, it felt all too close to your heart with the school like lunch, as if they tried to put you all at ease. You saw Su-Bong starting a fight with that damn Coin man, the one you knew from Su-Bong's crypto problems, but it didn't take much time before the player 001 beat the shit out of him for interrupting the meal time.

You didn't quite recognize your own feelings seeing Su-Bong lying on the floor half dead as the man was having him in a chokehold, Thanos whimpering and squirming under him. You felt the corners of your mouth lifting in some manic rushing tide, but when the man finally stood up and you saw Su-Bong's face, corrupted with both fear and anger you suddenly felt pity for him. How miserable of you.

The night crippled in, but the slumber decided not to show you any signs of life. To be fair, you could find at least twenty more people who couldn't sleep that night, and well, you had more questions for those who could.

You jumped down from your bed and slowly walked towards the bathroom. It was when you have done all of your things and was splashing your face with the spring cold water you heard some muted grumbling over the wall.

"Fuck man, c'mon!"

You creeped out of the female toilet room, tiptoing to the male one, hearing the grumbles more clearly, as well as the slapping sounds. You opened the door only for a few inches, when you saw Thanos standing in front of the mirror with his pants lowered to his knees, trying to jerk off.

"Stupid fucking shit, just fucking work!" His low voice was on the verge of growling, he never looked as pathetic and lost as now, standing half naked, trying to bone his dick up. Having sex, or at the very least jerking off, was his second to favorite activity to relieve the stress. The first one was getting high as fuck.

"Stressful day, huh?" He jerked his head into your direction seeing you leaning on the doorframe, smile completely roasting him.

He gulped, looking at you, detecting your gaze that was focused on his slumber dick in his hand.

"My señorita, do you want to help?" The desperation and anger in his voice washed away as soon as he saw your mocking face. He he let go of his dick and took a step forward to you, shaking his legs in the air to free them from the pants. "You always knew how to get it going, my fucking love."

He wrapped his fingers around your wrists, tugging you closer untill your body was pressed fully to his, then he unclasped his palm and put one of his hands on the crook of your back, lowering it untill he was able to grab your ass cheek and squeeze it.

"Why should I?" You didn't move away, nor did you shake his hand off your ass, but you also moved your face to the side when he tried to kiss you. "There's a nice, pretty guy in that room, I'd rather fuck him."

You knew that stupid cunt had a rejection kink. The seconds you said those words you felt his dick starting hardening, pressing against your inner thigh.

Su-Bong chuckled lowly, his voice vibrating through your skin as his lips were in mere inches from your ear. "Cause you still fucking love me." He squeezed your ass harder, pressing you flat into his groin. "You know none of these suckers can outdone me in fucking, right? I'm a fucking hump legend."

Too miserably for you, he fucking was. You never met someone who fucked your better than Thanos did, especially when he was under the influence of his stupid pills. You hated it, the pills, but loved the ferocity with which he thrusted into you or eated you out untill he could feel your soul on his tounge when he was on the pills.

"C'mon, my señorita, I want you so bad, just suck my fucking dick, please."

You didn't even know why, but you gave in. Maybe because you didn't know if any of you would live to see another day, or cause you knew he had his pill again and the mere thought of what he could do to you made you shiver. Or maybe because his dick was already hard enough it could leave a bruise on your thigh if you had kept staying still like this for another minute.

You slithered your hand down between your bodies, finding his dick pressed to your leg, and carefully wrapped your fingers around it. Making just a few tugs, your ear felt arousingly hot from Su-Bong's slow breathing. When he got too comfortable with you jerking him off, you relocated your hand further down his shaft, barely touching his balls, as you lifted up on your tiptoes, brushing his ear with your lips.

"If I hear you calling other bitches señoritas, I'm gonna kill you myself." You heard him mewl pathetically into your shoulder as you squeezed your fingers around his balls, practically digging into them with your nails till Thanos hissed and digged his fingers into your ass cheek in return, surely leaving some nicely framed bruises on your skin.

"You gave this name to me," you pulled your hand with his balls in it to the side slightly, stretching the tender skin almost painfuy, winning the muffled whimper from Su-Bong, as he sucked hectically on your neck. "it's fucking mine to bear."

"Done, baby, you won't hear it." He wheezed into your shoulder bucking up his dick against your thigh. You laughed, the sound was barely a whisper tickling Su-Bong's ear, but boy did it make him shiver, biting the skin on your shoulder?

"Atta boy." You bit his earlobe and let go off his balls, hearing him growling into you as his balls got back to their rightful place.

Finally for him, your tore your body off his, feeling the stinging warmth where his fingers were nailed into your ass even after you tore his hand off it, and kneeled down, finding the eye contact with Thanos before even getting close to his dick. His eyes were reminding you of boba balls, just a huge black circles amidst the white eyeballs, he was so high on his pills it drew you crazy and made you feel wet between your legs.

"Make me cum, my señorita." Once you sat down on your knees, Thanos placed his hand on your head, sliding it down to your cheek and finally your chin, leaving the trail of goosebumps on your skin as he went.

You touched his dick with your finger, pressing it up to his belly and got closer to the shaft. Su-Bong saw your tounge swirling inside your mouth, and when you stuck it out completely soaked in saliva, he squeezed your chin with his fingers, tugging your face closer untill he felt the watery tip of your tongue touching the base of his dick and shivered, snickering lowly.

You pressed your tongue flat to his very base starting to slide your way up to the very tip of it, slowly and tormenting, hearing Thanos grunting though his teeth, his hand moving back to your nape, controlling your every move.

You were sliding up and down, rolling to the tip of your tongue and touching Thanos's dick just so lightly it sent waves of shivers down his body, and then rolling it back flat, polishing his shaft with your tongue.

"I missed that so much." Through the muffled whimpering Su-Bong almost moaned, tugging on your nape to make you lick him higher. "No one's sucking the way you do, babe, my fucking slut queen."

You couldn't still the smile forcing on your face. That one thing keeping the bond between you two - you both were each other's best fuckers. And that was such a huge problem. That wasn't something that's easy to get off your mind. Every man you had after Su-Bong was intrusively compared to him while being in you, and let's be honest, none of them had the high ground. Every time you were fucking someone, at some point your head started getting clouded. Su-Bong would have already made me cum twice.

And without wandering, you knew this sucker had the same problem having every single girl compared to you.

"You'll make me cum yes?" Thanos placed his free hand on your finger that was pressing his dick to his stomach and pulled it off, making his dick fall, bouncing up and down right next to your lips. "I'll pay you back, you won't be disappointed."

You knew you wouldn't. You were sitting on your knees, thighs squeezed together in an attempt to stop your lube running down as you looked up at Su-Bong, his wide stoned pupils studying every inch of your body, lips framed in a manic smile and purple hair catching the light of the lightbulbs sent another wave of swirling down your stomach. The things he would do to you...

You wrapped your palm around his shaft, directioning the tip of his dick into your mouth and started circling it with the tip of your tongue, barely touching it. You made a few circles clockwise, a few counterclockwise, you licked it up and down and left and right, hearing Thanos' breath became loose and rapid. While you were circling his head slowly, your hands were working up and down his shaft.

"I've dreamt about thi- fuck-..." He muttered, his hand jerked automatically, sticking you on his dick deeper. Thanos didn't give you the time to adjust, starting shoving his dick down your mouth, deep into the warm tender mouth of yours, feeling your tongue sliding flat on his shaft until he felt the tip of his dick pressing into the back of your throat, you gagging, spasming over his shaft, only making Thanos moan gutturally, watching your head bob a little with a rythm he controlled. "My fucking sweet paradise. Fu-uuck!"

You felt his precum sliding down your throat, almost tickling making your insides jolt, as you started loosing your breath. The bolt of panic shattered though your chest as you started gagging without any air in your lungs, but, at this point, your desire to finish Thanos dry made you collect yourself. You started breathing though your nose, letting him guide your head in a timing that was perfect for him. You would make him cum and he would eat you out afterwards.

You felt his finish was close enough, so you grabbed his balls again, squeezing them gently, tickling and caressing them with your fingers, feeling them hardening under your touch and his dick trembling in your mouth as Thanos let the guttural moan into the air, his dick spurting semen into your mouth, nearly choking you.

"My señorita." He took his dick out of your mouth, tilting your chin up to look up at him, wiping with his finger the mix of his own cum and your drool that was soaking through the corners of your lips. "That was so fucking hot"

The way you swallowed Thanos' seed maintaining the eye contact visibly brought shivers on him, it awakened something animalistic in him as he pulled you up by the chin untill you stood up firmly and kissed you, ravaging your mouth completely. His tongue wasn't waiting for invitation, he slide it between your lips and you opened your mouth instinctively, feeling how his tongue slid deeper into your mouth over your own. At this point, you could only whimper into his mouth, thighs pressed to each other in order to find at least a bit of satisfaction.

"Fuck!"

Your kiss was interrupted by the two voices down the hall, two male voices that were creeping closer to the toilet.

"Fuck babe!" Thanos rattled, grabbing you by your pants and tugging into the closest stall, closing the doors behind you shut. The adrenaline got into him, his pupils, thought you thought it's impossible, got even bigger, as he untied the laces on your pants and tugged I'd down, along with the panties. He bent just a bit, to be able to press his lips to the side of your face and whisper gravely, "you thought it's gonna stop me?" His hand slid down your body, forcing you to open your legs. "Fuck no."

And you felt two of his digits sliding into you roughly. He didn't give you a chance to gather your scattered thoughts together, or adjust to his fingers, when he curled them, one at a time, shoving then up your cunt.

Thanos growled softly into your ear, you didn't even grasp what was the reason of your airy moan - his fingers or his voice, vibrating though your skin, but with two people outside your stall you did your best to still your vocals, only letting the little weep escape your lips and then shutting them together in panic.

"Good fuck, good day, huh?" His voice sent goosebumps running down all over your body, making you squeeze your thighs around his hand, your hips volunteerly moving down on his fingers.

"Okay, children's games, done" Thanos said, suddenly making your cunt uncomfortably empty, greening down on you, his body, towering high over yours squeezed the little whimper out of you which you bit down, almost bloodying your lip. "Want it?" He snickered jittery before bringing his soaked fingers to your lips, sliding them lightly on your bottom. You lips fell open as on a command, but as soon as you craned your neck forward to embrace his digits with the warm hug of your lips, Thanos yanked his hand back, his fingers in his mouth now and sucked them viciously, testing you before sliding down to his knees.

For a second, you forgot about all the people in the toilet and slammed the wall of the stall with your flat palm, trying to redirect your frustration and agony out of your mouth to your hand, while Thanos was sliding his hands up your inner thighs, spreading them without any effort. He pressed his face to your pubic area and breathed you in vigorously before sighing out.

The proximity of his face to your cunt sent a tugging pulsation through your body, making you squirm on your toes, hips bucking up. You want to face fuck him untill his mad soaked in your cum, just as in old good times.

In a second, you put your free hand on his head, fingers threading through his purple hair. You tugged on his nape, angling his head up untill his chin was on your puffed, soaking wet folds, and you moaned though the bitten down lips.

"That's so fucking beautiful." He said as he lowered his head, sliding down your folds with his chin and slurped you for the all the miserable desires you had. He eated you vigorously, the sound of him sucking your lube messy, letting his drool drip down your thighs mixed with your wetness turned you dazzlingly dizzy. Thanos was rubbing his tongue flat up and down your clit, pulling it in and out of your tight hole, your walls clenching hectically desiring something more. Something bigger that just a tongue. It wrecked your insides. It warmed up your cunt and made you even wetter, and you tugged on Thanos' hair to tear him off you just to see how wet his face was, covered in your slime.

"Fuck..." Was the only thing you could moaned out, looking at his absolutely deranged smile and his tounge framing his glossy lips. Thanos' eyes were nothing but pupils, two black buttomless holes staring back at you with manic desire, the previously dried blood on his cheek got soggy again and was smeared all over his jaw. Damn, that stupid señorita girl from before died in from of him and now you fucked your man with her blood on his face and for fuck's sake that almost turned your insides upside down.

Thanos wrapped his palms around your wrist and freed his hair from your grasp, pressing your hands to the wall on the both sides of you. "Let me finish my meal, babe."

He fell back into your cunt, licking you dry and biting you clit just enough for it to teeter on a slightly painful side, making you wriggle, your ass catching on a wooden wall of the stall.

"Su-.." You caught your breath as a heat wave slammed down at your nether regions, curling your toes and fingers as Thanos kept slurping the juices your body rewarded him with for his work. "-Bong..." His name finally left your lips as you collapsed on his face, your feet too weak to hold your body up.

You barely registered how he snickered, one sound on his lips - lust. He pressed his lips back to your folds and slurped all of your cum at once, his tongue circling around your cunt gathering the juice.

"My señorita..." Thanos put his hands under your quivering thighs as his head appeared in front of yours. He kissed you roughly, letting you taste yourself from his tongue, salty and sweet. "I told you I'll pay you back."

He sat you down on a toilet, opening the door slightly enough to check if anyone was still there. No one.

"We live another day, babe, and I shove it up your cunt." Thanos looked at you, cupping his dick in his hand and smiling like a demented junkie he was. "Let's go, you first."

You tugged on your panties and pants, action was rather challenging with your whole body still trembling from your climax, and popped your head out of the stall. The path was clear. Walking out of the stall you threw the pants Su-Bong left laying on the floor under the sinks to him and was about to left the room, when he wrapped his hand around your waist, slamming your body into his. "Please, babe, don't die, cause I'll need it again." Su-Bong murmured into your ear before leaving a wet kiss on your neck.

You trotted back to your bed, people were still mostly sleeping. Barely making your way up, climbing the ladder to your bed, you sat, knees pressed to your chest, and watched Thanos walking jauntily across the dormitory. His fucking cheeky ass would absolutely run his mouth to his new friend when he wakes up, no chances Thanos would keep his tongue behind his teeth about having the blowjob of his life.

You clenched your jaw on the thought of it, but, ugh. That would be a problem for the future you. Now, you had to fall asleep with the warm pleasure between your thighs, praying for Su-Bong's name not to slip out of your lips in a dream.

Tags: @verdantsecretgardens @wintaemoonjen

[goldfades]

more luke hughes fics im literally on my knees

i haven't written for baby luke in forever and since i am deathly ill, here is a little fic about being sick.

Luke Hughes is dying.

At least, that's what he claims, his voice scratchy with dramatic flair as he groans from the depths of your bed—not his bed, of course, because apparently yours is "infinitely more comfortable." Never mind that his mattress is practically brand new, or that he has a fancy memory foam pillow that cost more than your monthly grocery bill. No, according to Luke, your slightly lumpy, average, definitely-not-fancy bed holds some magical, restorative quality that his can't compete with. He's staked his claim, a tangle of long limbs and disheveled blankets, looking like the tragic hero of his own melodramatic play.

You stand in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the heap of misery that is your boyfriend. His hoodie is bunched up around his waist, revealing a sliver of pale skin, and his nose is an impressive shade of pink. A tissue dangles precariously from his hand, and a mountain of its crumpled comrades litters the floor beside him like the aftermath of a very soft, very sneezy battle.

"I think I'm dying," Luke mumbles, voice thick with congestion, like he’s auditioning for the role of Most Pathetic Human Alive.

"You're not dying," you reply, deadpan. "You have a cold."

He sniffles dramatically, pulling the blanket up over his head with the kind of effort that suggests he's lifting a thousand-pound weight. "It's worse than a cold. It's, like, a super cold. A mega cold."

You roll your eyes, but there's an undeniable fondness tucked between the sarcasm and sighs. Crossing the room, you perch on the edge of the bed, nudging his burrito-shaped form with your elbow. "Did the super cold steal your ability to get up and drink water? Because there's a glass on the nightstand that's been sitting there since this morning."

A muffled, tragic noise emerges from under the blanket. "It tastes better when you bring it to me."

Of course it does.

You sigh, not because you're annoyed, but because this is Luke—your Luke. And if he wants to be a big, whiny baby about his "super cold," you can let him have this one. Grabbing the glass, you shift closer, lifting his blanket just enough to see his pouty, flushed face peeking out.

"Here, Your Highness," you say, gently pressing the cool glass to his hands. He takes it with exaggerated gratitude, like you've just fetched him water from the Fountain of Youth.

"You're the best," he croaks dramatically, taking a small sip as if it's his last.

You brush his messy hair off his damp forehead, the affection slipping through without resistance. "Anything else for the dying man? Grapes? A cool cloth? A lullaby?"

His eyes, glassy from the congestion, brighten a little. "A cuddle might help. For medicinal purposes."

You chuckle softly, sliding under the covers beside him. He immediately drapes himself over you, all heavy limbs and needy warmth, burying his face into your neck with a satisfied sigh.

"Definitely medicinal," he mumbles, already sounding less miserable.

And even though he’s sniffly and probably spreading his germs, you let him.

A few minutes pass, filled with his occasional sniffles and dramatic sighs. Then, with a pitiful groan, he mumbles, "I might never recover. This could be it for me."

You bite your lip to keep from laughing, the corners of your mouth twitching. "Oh no, what will the world do without Luke Hughes?"

"It'll be a darker place," he whispers, clutching your arm weakly, as if this is his final goodbye. "Tell my story. Be brave."

You snort, unable to hold it in any longer. "I'll make sure they build a statue in your honor. Right in the middle of the living room."

He peeks up at you with glassy, puppy-dog eyes, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite the act. "Make sure it’s life-sized. Actually, bigger. Like, heroic proportions."

"Naturally," you reply, stroking his hair with mock seriousness. "Anything for the hero of our time."

And even though he's being ridiculous, you don't mind. Because he's your ridiculous, dramatic, oversized baby—and you love him for it.

A week later, the universe proves it has a twisted sense of humor.

You’re bundled on the couch, tissues piled around you in a sad, crumpled fortress, your head pounding and nose stuffy—an exact, miserable mirror of Luke’s performance from last week. The only difference? You’re not nearly as dramatic. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

Luke, on the other hand, is thriving. Not because you’re sick—though he does seem a little too smug about it—but because he’s now fully recovered and basking in the role reversal with alarming enthusiasm.

He saunters into the living room, wearing that infuriatingly healthy glow, hair tousled perfectly like he’s in a shampoo commercial. He’s holding a cup of tea with both hands, an exaggerated look of sympathy plastered on his face.

“Aww, look at my poor, sick baby,” he coos, crouching beside you and tucking the blanket around your shoulders like you’re fragile glass. “Is this what it felt like when I was dying?”

You glare at him, voice raspy as you croak, “You weren’t dying.”

“Oh, I was,” he insists dramatically, setting the tea down with the flair of someone performing a sacred ritual. “But unlike some people, I didn’t complain.”

You snort, which unfortunately turns into a cough. Luke pats your back with an over-the-top gentleness, like he’s comforting a Victorian child with consumption.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, brushing your hair off your clammy forehead with mock tenderness. “I’ll tell your story. Be brave.”

You weakly smack his arm, but the grin on your face betrays you.

[yandere-romanticaa]

𝔎𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔅𝔦𝔩𝔩.

❝ Rather be in Hell than alone. ❞ - sza.

This fic was inspired by the song Kill Bill by SZA.

yandere! modern au! phainon x fem! reader.

How did he get here?

The white haired man often asked himself that very same question for what seemed like ages now. Standing hidden away underneath the shadows like some crazed phantom became a nightly routine of his ever since his heart got shattered into a million pieces.

Phainon was popular, well liked and respected. He had a good life all things considered - a stable job, good friends and a lovely girl to come back home to.

With the realization that last bit was no longer the case, a sharp pang coursed through his chest. He watched your bedroom window closely, hands in his pockets as he noticed the fresh bouquet of flowers placed on your window. Fresh flowers from what he could tell, the pretty colours seemed to pop so cutely with the glow of the light coming from your living room and the wine red vase only added the blooms even more charm.

The same vase that he got you.

⊹.˚🪞🕯️♡

He can recall the sensation of the comfortable armchair as it creaked underneath his weight. The sound of the clock on the wall set him off as Phainon twirled with his thumbs, his gaze cascaded downwards as a heavy silence hung in the air. That silence would soon be a blissful past as it was soon broken by a gentle voice, a sad attempt at sounding compassionate.

"Phainon? It's alright to be upset, that is a natural reaction to such a messy break up."

The voice of his therapist echoed slightly in the overly white office, which only set him even more on edge. He grumbled in annoyance, cursing his meddling friends for forcing him to seek professional help instead of just letting his anger bubble inside him.

Besides, he was never angry for too long. His anger always comes and goes.

That's just the kind of guy he is.

Phainon snorted, a pained grin on his face, a pathetic attempt at trying to lighten the situation. "Sorry Doc, guess I just lost myself for a second there!"

From the corner of his eye, Phainon could see the worried looks his therapist was giving him. It was horrendously obvious that he was doing a poor job at trying to mask his concerns with that faux smile and the stench of his cheap cologne made him grateful for having a better sense of smell. His own was so much better, he figured. A truly childish thought in the grand scheme of things but he really could not be bothered to think like an adult at the moment.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed a tiny wine red ribbon hanging subtly on the Doctor's right hand, a stark contrast to his otherwise crisp and perfect exterior.

It didn't suit him whatsoever, Phainon thought flatly, his eyes still glued to his shoes.

⊹.˚🪞🕯️♡

With a startle, Phainon realized that he was now standing in front of your door. His heart thumped in his chest, it made him wonder if he was going to die from cardiac arrest right then and there. All of the wonderful memories of his love came back to him, all of the sweetness he had soaked up only to lose it all in the end. It wasn't fair how much of an effect you had on him, even after all this time Phainon was still wholeheartedly yours.

And you did not want him. Not anymore.

He bit his lip, hard. The taste of blood filled his mouth as a few droplets of the thick liquid fell on his jet black hoodie, the dark material masking it.

This really was not his best idea.

⊹.˚🪞🕯️♡

His hour was almost up. Huh. He figured he should be more ecstatic about that. The last hour felt like a century due to the incessant nagging of his therapist, who kept trying to get Phainon to open up. It was beyond clear that he was a rookie but he was trying, which just added insult to injury. It was fascinating how hard the man was trying to help him, how desperately he tried to offer up some solution to Phainon's sea of endless heartbreak.

None of which was working.

Looking back at the clock, Phainon strained his ears to see if there was perhaps someone else waiting in front of the good Doctor's door. Another lost soul seeking some sort of refuge, a comforting ear of someone who actually cared.

A true rarity in such a business, as he found out not too long ago.

He gritted his teeth as his ears picked up nothing. No sound of any eager on uneasy footsteps, not even a hint of a cough, the only sign of life was right here, in this white box he was stuck in.

... Perfect.

⊹.˚🪞🕯️♡

He did not even feel the thousands of splinters of the wooden door clinging to his skin as he broke into his old flame's apartment. He did not feel how the sticky fabric of his clothes clung to his being, thick sweat and something more heavy trying to weigh him down.

The only thing he could focus on was the shrill scream of the one he holds so dear.

He looked at his old flame and his eyes were suddenly brought back to life. Gone was the lifeless tint of grey in his eye, his mouth forming into an overly happy grin as he rushed straight towards his sweetheart, large hands grabbing onto the shrieking person who was trying to hit him.

How mean. But it was a reasonable reaction, he supposed.

For the first time in forever, things felt right. Phainon wanted to scream from the rooftops that he had you, he finally was holding you in his arms once again. Gone was the pain, his sorrow melting away into a puddle of need as he kissed your face all over, salty tears staining the cheeks of the one most precious to him, which caused him great agony. He grabbed the hand which was now raised high up, his grip iron tight as he pleaded to just be heard -

- And then as the man turned his head, all he could see was red.

A small, dainty little piece of fabric clinging onto your wrist, the tiny red wine bow a stark reminder of why he came here in the first place. He chuckled maniacally, his chest reverberating back and forth as he tilted his head backwards, his gaze meeting the soft glow of the moonlight as he felt the white hot rage take over his whole being.

This is not the best idea.

But, he could not even think of that statement at the moment.

He had other things to do.

⊹.˚🪞🕯️♡

The man thrashed helplessly beneath Phainon, the massive wooden desk now a mess of documents and spit as the Doctor tried to feebly break free from the chokehold in which he was held in. A pathetic trail of his own vomit drizzled down his busted lip as Phainon grinned like a mad man, pleased to see that the one who caused him so much pain was finally feeling a fraction of what he has been feeling these past few months.

Who did this pathetic waste of oxygen think he was? Big fancy doctor got his degree and gets and overly inflated ego to boot.

And his precious peach fell for it.

She fell for it and it hurt, it wounded him so revoltingly. In that office at that moment, Phainon was less of a man and more a beast. A true deliverer of suffering. If the stars had decided to place him into an overly dramatic Greek tragedy as the main hero, then so be it.

He was going to be the star. He was going to be the brightest, most brilliant fucking star anyone had ever seen.

And Phainon was going to burn so bright that he was going to suffocate the man beneath him with his light.

His knuckles twitched sickeningly, the disgusting sound of impending death reaching his ears as he felt the tears of his victim on his wrists. The cool liquid felt surprisingly pleasant against his overly hot flesh, giving him a brief sense of reprieve. Phainon wondered if the engorged vein on his arm was going to pop due to the strain he was putting on it, his perfectly white flesh a stark contrast against the dark blue seam. Suddenly , he snapped at himself, there was no time to waste on mindless idling - harder.

He needed to press harder. And so, he did.

He needed to see the life out of the man's eyes being snuffed out. He needed to feel the sensation of his spirit leaving his stupid body, he needed to make sure that in this life and in all the others that this man would never reach you. Never, not ever.

With a sick thud, the Doctor went limp in Phainon's embrace. The silence was so thick and heavy that it felt as though it could be cut with a dull butter knife. Phainon held the fresh corpse in his hands, the broken neck of the man he had just savagely killed being lulled side to side like a broken souvenir one would get at a cheap pawn shop.

Once he was sure that the man was gone for good, Phainon stood up. He drooped the body carelessly onto the green carpet, the fuzzy fabric now stained crimson. The Doctor's hand was next to his head, that stupidly cute ribbon still clinging onto him even in death. Phainon roared in anger, heavenly blue eyes shining with fury as he grabbed his victim's hand and ripped the ribbon off. Stuffing it into his pocket, he turned his back away from the gruesome scene and made his way out the door, his steps thick and heavy.

He'd rather be in jail than feel this pain.

⊹.˚🪞🕯️♡

Phainon was weeping. He didn't know what he was doing, hell, he didn't even know why he was doing it in the first place. He did not understand why he had his arms wrapped around your neck, he did not understand why he was choking the life out of you with that same wine red ribbon which he had taken earlier.

All he could focus on was your face. That beautiful, ethereal, angelic face. The face which haunts his dreams and nightmares, the once cheerful face which was turning plum purple by the second. Phainon heaved, his body heavy with regret and sorrow but the anger... Oh how he choked back on a sob, thick snot escaping his nose as he gripped his peach even harder, the soft flesh becoming more and more dull in his grotesque hold. Gone was the lovesick puppy, banished deep within the darkest pits of Hell the moment he snuffed the life out of his first victim. Standing now was a man who had lost his will to live.

He had nothing. He had lost you. Once upon a time, he vowed to you that no one was ever going to lay a single finger on you. In some macabre way, he kept his word. For as long as he walked on this Earth, not a single soul dared to harm you.

Never once did he think that he was going to be the one who was going to end it all.

Phainon watched you take your last breath and he wondered if this was perhaps the most beautiful he had ever seen you. No one could take you from him, not even he himself could do that now. The thought of having no one, it made his soul whimper in morbid misery. But right here, right now, he had you. He was never going to be alone, never again.

Phainon had made up his mind ages ago. He'd rather be in Hell than be alone.

A/N: Ah, there really is no better tension between a girl who has to study for an important exam vs getting a fic idea right in the middle of her study session.

I literally got screwed over by SZA for showing up on my playlist because this fic just popped in my head. I made it a modern AU because I thought it fit the tone of the song better, hope y'all don't mind. I'm also having a bad creative block as of late so I've no idea if this fic is actually any good or not! Everything I write looks wrong these days and I had to go back and rewrite this multiple times because I just could not get it to look right.

If anything, it was at least fun to edit.

[meliciousmel13]

➛ munch

paring: overworked!billie x wife!reader

warnings: literally just filthy smut with a little plot, riding, eating out, kind of pathetic billie(?) just at the beginning though, mirror sex, billie calls r good girl, strap-on sex, kind of proofread

wc: 2,433

SYNOPSIS: billie won’t stop working, you want to go out but she won’t leave the studio. you had an idea of what to do.

taglist: @chrissv4mp, @billiesguitar, @ilovebillieeilish2000, @d14n4ol, @raspberrymacaroon if your not a part of this list but want to be comment under my tag list post, which is on my masterlist.

an: here's another fic since last week i didn't post anything.

she was always in the studio. always. whether it was 3 am or 4 in the morning. you never got to see her besides when she got out the room to get water, or take a 5 minute break (which was apparently enough time for the whole week).

you never saw her. you understood. she had to work on her new album. it was just work. but the amount of times your slept in a cold bed was getting tiring, and kind of depressing, considering you barely saw your wife, when she was your wife.

“billie?” your soft voice echoed through out the home studio, billie didn’t notice you with her headphones on, “bills” you repeated her name, slowly entering the studio and standing behind her, she finally noticed.

billie removed her headphones and looked behind her, a tired smile finding it’s way on her face, “hey baby.” she said, while looking up, and taking your hips in her hands. you were wearing a silk satin robe, which was driving her insane.

“hi.” you smiled as billie kissed your stomach, “i wanted to surprise you.” you said, enjoying her hands on you, she hasn’t touched you in three weeks, and you were getting desperate.

“wanted to surprise me?” she smiled, for the first time in weeks, she almost forgot how happy you made her, almost forgot about you.

“yeah,” you smirk, untying you robe and seeing billie’s eyes widen. you were wearing almost nothing underneath, just lacy underwear.

“so it’s that kind of surprise?” she chuckled, trying to act like seeing you half naked in her studio didn’t affect her.

you hum, removing her hands on your hips getting in front of her and sitting on her desk, spreading your legs, “you can’t touch me though,” you said, tilting your head to the side, which made your untied hair go that way.

billie thought about her album, the amount of work she had to do was piling up each day. but she couldn’t deny you, she never could and never will, “you tryna’ tease me?” she placed her hand on your upper thigh, but you pushed it off.

“maybe.” you smile, innocently, like you weren’t dripping on her desk, “you’ve been working a lot.” you said, nonchalantly, while billie was imagining the way she could take you, “do you also sleep here?” you asked, curious.

“no— i sleep in our bed i just leave before you wake up.” she said, it made much more sense. why you woke up with a pillow next to you every time you woke up, and why her side of the bed was messy.

“how long do you sleep for?” you asked, again.

“six hours…” billie trailed off, couldn’t even look at your face, not like she was looking at it in the first place.

“don’t lie to me billie.” you threatened, closing your thighs, and getting off her desk.

“okay! okay, i sleep for three hours.” billie said, slightly scared of what you might do. you weren’t scared to make her sleep on the couch the last time she even remotely did anything wrong.

“three hours?” you said in disbelief, you knew her sleep schedule sucked, but it was getting borderline unhealthy and insane, “you sleep for three fucking hours? are you serious?” you said.

“no i sleep for two.”

“billie!”

“i’m joking!”

“don’t joke about that, god.” you sighed, with your head in your hands.

billie felt bad. didn’t know how much her not being there affected you, “i’ll take a ten minute break then.” you looked up, mischievously, this was exactly what you wanted.

“fifteen.”

“ten.” she argued.

“twenty.”

“fifteen.”

“an hour.” you smiled.

“fine,” billie caved, laying back on her seat, and looking up at you, “your so lucky your adorable.” she said, and you hummed, sitting back on her desk, scooting to the very edge of it, and billie immediately sat up, like she was trained to do it.

“god, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” she breathed, almost absentmindedly, your belly burned a little, but not from that fiery pit that had been present earlier. this was desire. you felt desired.

“bills,” you whimpered as she lifted one of your legs to kiss along your thigh. she focused all her attention on the one thigh, running her hands and lips over the soft skin.

“jesus christ,” she whispered, watching your skin dimple under her fingers. she squeezed it harder, her lips climbing up your thigh. she brought one hand to your other thigh because she knew she wouldn’t be able to give it the proper attention it deserved before she got hungry and dove right in. the faint smell was already driving her wild.

you whimpered again when she got to her destination. you could feel her heavy breath against your underwear. she looked up at you pleadingly, her pupils drowning out her bright blue irises.

“can i take them off?” she asked, running her thumb over the lacy waistband. you shuddered and nodded, unable to make out any real words. she bit her lip and took your underwear off, throwing the white lace behind her.

“holy shit,” she sighed, eyes locked on your wet pussy. “i wanna eat it so fucking bad, baby. please,” she pleaded, her voice cracking in desire. you looked down at her, watching her throat bob as she swallowed thickly. like she was genuinely drooling.

you didn’t feel pressure to say yes, but you felt it would be cruel to say no. billie wanted it so bad.

“yes.”

billie gasped, her warm breath fanning over your folds. she licked her lips. “slowly, please,” you said, your words shaky. she nodded and looked up at you briefly in confirmation.

she looked back down and used her thumb to spread you apart before her tongue dove in. you moaned loudly at the contact, watching her lap up every crevice with fervor. her nose bumped your clit, and her mouth opened eagerly, exploring your pussy with her skilled tongue. she dipped it into your entrance, groaning at the taste that flooded her. the vibrations set you into a fit of complete pleasure, so she continued humming softly as she ate you out.

she devoured you like a woman starved, lapped and groaned as if she hadn’t eaten in days and you were a desert oasis. her hands gripped your hips, pulling your pussy as close as possible to her mouth. like this was a privilege she’d never again be able to afford.

you built up to your high quickly, thighs clenching tightly around her head. “b-billie, i’m gonna—”

you whined when she pulled away, looking down at her in betrayal. her face was coated in you from the nose down. she only licked her lips, not bothering to wipe the rest of it off.

“not yet,” she said lowly. she managed to look away from your pussy, despite how much she just wanted to dive in and stay there the rest of the night. “i’m gonna go get the strap, alright?”

your eyes widened and you nodded, unable to formulate words. you hadn’t been able to feel the strap for months now, your rare and short meetings with her between shows, and business meetings were short lived, only able to kiss for barely a minute before someone barged in.

she pressed a kiss to your knee and got up, a bright smile on her face that didn’t match how much she was about to wreck you. she disappeared into the studio’s door, probably rummaging frantically in the closet and box where all the toys were. you closed your eyes, trying not to touch yourself at the thought of her.

“fuck, you’re so beautiful,” billie breathed from above you. you opened your eyes, crossing them when you saw the dildo fastened to billie’s hips. you leaned down and pressed a kiss to the plastic tip, making billie gasp.

“you wanna suck it?” she asked. you just nodded eagerly and opened your mouth. you wanted to feel it in every way possible after being away from her so long. she held it by the base and fed it to you, your lips wrapping around the plastic.

“good girl,” she praised, watching intently as you took whatever you could into your mouth, which wasn’t much, “you can take more can’t you angel?” she said, gripping the back of your head and making you gag against the dildo, “breathe from your nose, don’t— don’t panic baby.” she said.

you felt yourself leak onto the desk as she praised you, you sucked it a little longer, until the desire was too much and you pulled away, panting. she was panting as well, having thoroughly enjoyed the show you just put on for her.

“you wanna ride me?” she asked, knowing what your answer would be.

you nodded eagerly, practically drenched at the idea. “alright, baby,” she said, grabbing your waist and moving you aside for a second. she laid back on her chair, breathing heavily, the dildo jutting out from her hips standing tall.

she pulled you into her lap and looked up at you, naked, and needy, she pinched your nipples, making you gasp. “sit on it,” she commanded, her voice dark. it took you a moment to realize what she meant, your mind hazy, but you lifted your hips and centered yourself above the dildo. you let the tip prod your entrance before lowering your hips, moaning as you sunk down on it. you lowered them slowly, feeling yourself being stretched out.

“good fucking girl.” billie groaned. her movements on your nipples stopped, distracted by the sight of you taking her. she put her hands down on your thighs instead, squeezing as you slowly took more of her inside.

“bill— billie,” you moaned, bracing yourself on her clothed chest. you finally took all of her, squeaking in pleasure when she slapped your ass gently.

“fuckin’ look at yourself, messy on my lap. and who was trying to act bossy a few minutes ago hm?” she said, as if she hadn’t begged to eat you out.

you looked at the mirror behind her, she positioned you where you could see yourself on it, “see how— see how fuckin’ pretty you look.” she breathed as you started moving your hips up and down, slowly. “say it. tell me you’re pretty.”

you looked down at her and she slapped your ass, making you yelp. “i-i’m pretty!” she nodded her head in satisfaction. “that’s right. watch yourself.” you kept watching yourself, riding her cock faster as the pleasure of it increased. she thumbed your clit, rubbing it as she kept praising you under her breath. you rode her until your thighs burned with the exertion.

“you’re gorgeous,” she said as she started thrusting her hips upwards, helping you ride her. she looked down, watching the dildo go in and out of you. “your pussy too. so perfect.”

you bit your lip, stifling a moan. watching yourself riding her like that was embarrassing, but you didn’t wanna disappoint billie. and, truthfully, it turned you on.

you rolled your hips, and billie was halfway down the chair, practically sliding off of it, she was laid back, with her hands behind her head looking down to see her dick sliding in and out of you.

“getting tired angel? didn’t even do anythin’ yet. you don’t appreciate my efforts.” she said sitting up and holding you from under your thighs, sitting up from her chair. you yelped, wrapping your arms around her neck and not wanting to fall on the cold floor. billie would never drop you though, even though she teased it.

she didn’t pull out yet, just walked to your shared bedroom, still inside you, “billie.” you whimper, grinding softly on her.

“impatient too.” she mumbled putting you down on the bed, “can’t help it,” you gasp as she turned you around, positioning you so you could see yourself in the bedroom mirror.

“wanna’ fuck you from the back,” she mumbled, and took your hips, dragged you closer to her pelvis and you could feel the tip of her cock to your entrance, “you want this angel?” she asked, and you had your head laid down on the bed, nodding, “we can’t have that.” she took you by the hair gently and guided you so you could see.

“see? you can still see me, just in the mirror, kay’?” she smiled, and you bit your lip, as she took the dildo and prodded it at your entrance, sliding it in and filling you up, once she saw that you were still biting your lip, she took her left hand and put her index, and middle finger in your mouth, “fuckin’ look at yourself.” she groaned, you did, you saw the way your brows furrowed and the spit going down your chin, with billie’s fingers in your mouth.

“you like it? you like getting fucked like a good girl?” she asked in-between pants. your face told her all she needed to know, flushed and scrunched up from the pleasure.

your moans got more intense in volume, and she continued her exact pace, wanting to make you cum soon. “you gonna cum, baby?”

you nodded as best you could with her hand still in your hair, crying out her name. she held her pace, starting to sweat from exertion before she could tell you were incredibly close from the way your legs shook.

“come for me. come on my dick.”

you practically screamed, immediately obeying her. your eyes closed tightly, clenching around her dick as she slowed down her pace to let you ride it out. you swore you had seen a glimpse of heaven, your orgasm feeling like it lasted for centuries. finally, though, you collapsed on the bed, completely spent and breathing heavily.

she kept herself inside you as you recovered, waiting to be told what to do. “pull out, please,” you said after a moment. she pulled out slowly, holding your waist with one arm as she used her free hand to take the strap off.

when it was off, she brought you closer, keeping you against her chest as you cuddled up to her. she ran her calloused fingertips over your shoulders and your back, soothing you. your mind felt clear enough after a couple minutes, not feeling so tired anymore.

“this would’ve happened sooner if you weren’t so busy.”

[impish-baby]

Hi! I hope you make sure to drink some water, eat a little something, and keep warm. May I request a fic where let's say the hero's sidekick gets kidnapped by a group of villains? When they wake up in an unfamiliar place they panic and start to regress but they're trying to hide it when they begin to get interrogated...(they're failing miserably at hiding it)

Maybe the villain and sidekick are hybrids? Up to you. Thank you and keep safe!

In April, I open my bill - platonic yandere! villians × sidekick! reader (pt.1) - 🪶🗡

You're so getting benched after this.

It's not even your fault that you were caught! Maybe you begged a little to go out on a mission, but it was supposed to be a simple stake out, not an ambush. Nobody has let you out on the field without a babysitter since you started training! And the one time you are, you're kidnapped. Great. You'll never hear the end of it.

To make things better, there's a power suppressor strapped to your ankle. Cowards. It not like you're already bound to the damm chair you woke up in, they just had to go the extra mile. Maybe they see you as an actual threat? A tiny bit of pride swells in your chest.

You are a threat! You're part of the best hero team there is, doesn't matter that you aren't debuted out to the public yet, you're still an important member!

.....they're going to come save you soon, you know it.

There's no way you've been passed out for very long, a few hours at most, right? Yeah, it won't be too long now.

On the bright side, you're not beat up! A small donk to the back of the head and that's it. Your wings ache from being fixed to your back, but at least you'll be able to stretch them when you're back to base. Gotta look at the positive things.

When the door clicks open you're just expecting to see the same idiot goons that grabbed you in the first place, not the nemesis of your mentor.

You take it back, there's absolutely no positives.

"My, you are certainly a treat.. I should've given Helix and his crew more credit." Asphodel has a pleasant smile on his face, it's the opposite of comforting. "You're the one that's gotten the city all in a buzz, huh? The little sidekick Apollo took so graciously under his wing.."

You're not scared. You're not. You're terrified.

So much blood has been split by the villian you could fill an ocean and still have some leftover. He's cruel, careless, the last hero he sinked his claws into was dropped unceremoniously on the steps of the capital building. The only thing your team might be retrieving is a corpse.

"So, dearest, I'm awfully curious. Everyone is really. Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" A plush stool is dragged in front of you so the villain can sit, his own wings spread out gracefully behind him. Lucky bastard.

When you only glare silently he chuckles, his smile turning into a smirk. "Aw, are you shy? Poor thing, here, I'll go first to ease your nerves." Asphodel holds put his hand like he expects you to shake it, "I imagine you know my name already, so I won't bore you with telling you things you're already aware of, but I have very special plans for you. It's such a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

You'll die alone. The last thing you'll have done before going out is getting in a stupid argument with everyone because they said you weren't ready to do things solo. At least you can't tell a dead person I told you so. Nobody can blame you for the wetness slipping down your cheeks either.

"Oh, are those tears already?" He feighns surpise, placing the previously outstretched hand over his heart. "I thought you were a hero in training? How unbecoming of someone under the city's golden boy's tutelage."

A pathetic chirp almost leaves your lips before you bite your tongue. You just want your nest. You want to wake up like this was a horrible nightmare and have Apollo baby you like you're a delicate fledgling again.

"I haven't touched a single hair on your pretty head and already you've started with the waterworks." He gives a disappointed sigh, "perhaps that's why you've been here a week with no pesky heros showing up, they finally have a chance to be rid of a weakling among their ranks."

A week? No. No, someone would've come for you by then.

"Hm?" He leans towards you, cupping your cheek surprisingly gentle. It still makes you flinch. "You don't believe me, do you, dear?" Asphodel hums, leaning back and pulling a phone from his pocket. "Here, see for yourself."

The mission was Monday, it's 10 pm on Saturday now.

A news report just rubs salt in the wound, there's not one mention of your name. Not a missing persons report. There's nothing to attribute that someone's been looking for you at all.

"It's a little mean of them, isn't it?" He turns the video off before putting the phone back into his pocket, "Abandoning you here with me, don't fret though, darling."

A broken chirp finally does leave you when he reaches to pet your head, his eyes widening almost as much as yours are. "Oh. Oh. That does make my job so much easier."

He stands up in a blink of an eye to reach under your costume, shushing you softly. "It's ok, I'll only be a moment." Asphodel gasps when he brushes your feathers, stepping back and wagging a finger at you. "Naughty thing, do you know how bad for you that is? Goodness.."

You're still frozen still with fear and shock, not even moving when he starts to untie you from the chair. "Honestly.. we'll hope that you haven't done any permanent damage, it'll be a shame if you're grounded because of this."

You were told that it's safe. That you still used your wings enough, so you didn't need to worry about your flight being affected. You trusted Apollo and the others more than anything.

"There we are.." Asphodel also goes ahead and takes off your cloak for you once the restraints are gone, cutting two slits into the back of your undershirt with his talons so your wings can slip through. "Perfect, that must feel so much better."

It does, or it would if he didn't immediately start picking through your feathers.

"Hush," he's being careful, straightening anything that's out of place with a practiced hand. "I'm helping, my dove. You're safe, those old nasty heroes that betrayed you don't matter. Just focus on me."

You don't mean to melt into his arms, but all the emotions you feel mix into a confusing mess. Being held makes it go away a little.

"Good, you're such a good little one, aren't you?" He coos, words dripping with honeyed sweetness. "You don't think about anything else other than feeling safe with me, that's all you need to know."

(a/n: apologies..I got away from the prompt with this I think qwq hopefully it was still enjoyable! I'll do something more with reader regressing if there's interest)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Doing Bills make-up or Bill doing the Reader's make-up prompt please? Since the book of Bill said he wears mascara and eyeliner

I don’t know shit about makeup and this fic will only probably prove that 🤣

‘Is it really necessary for you to be so close to my face?’ You asked.

Bill sighed as the hand holding the mascara brush dropped to his side. ‘Who was the one who asked for help with their mascara?’

‘Me.’ You replied.

‘Yes you did.’ Bill said while pointing at you with the mascara brush, ‘now are you going to let me get back to work or are you going to complain and pull away again, my time is precious to me you know.’

You raised your hands in defeat in hopes it would appease Bill. ‘Alright, alright I’m sorry I won’t pull away again, it’s just that you hold that thing as though you’re going to poke my eye out.’ You defended yourself as you forced yourself to relax as Bill hovered close to your face with mascara brush in his little hands.

‘If you keep moving away from me then I might as well poke your eye out, twerp.’ Bill replied almost playfully but you knew that he would indeed do just that, and so you forced yourself to remain as still as you could while Bill focused all of his energy into giving you the perfect mascara look.

‘Is that a threat or a promise?’ You asked.

Bill shrugs. ‘Depends on my mood.’

‘Well that’s comforting.’ You muttered as bill stops and points the mascara brush at you once again. It was funny to see a floating triangle no bigger then your hand -maybe a little bigger- threaten you with a mascara brush, but you’ve nearly poked your eye out a couple of times when doing your own mascara so you knew that pain all to well and didn’t want to experience it again.

‘You done tempting me human because this’ll be your last chance to behave yourself unless you want busted looking eyelashes.’ Bill warms but doesn’t wait for your answer to continue his work.

You didn’t even ask him to help with your makeup, not even once. He just appeared in your bathroom while you were doing your makeup, made you poke yourself in the eye from fright while chastising you and your adequate makeup techniques.

‘Who you trying to impress? A raccoon? Are you humans really this helpless that you can’t do something as simple as mascara or eyeliner? Pfff. Pathetic.’ He says as he looks at you in the mirror with obvious judgment.

‘Hey! I think it looks okay!’ You defended yourself as Bill only looks you unamused.

‘For an ammeter.’ He replied and you couldn’t help but feel that your pride has been wounded and therefore become a little agitated.

‘Oh yeah? And you do?’ You said sarcastically.

‘Yeah, how do you think I get my eyelashes to look like this?’ Bill retorted, ‘don’t believe me? Take a closer look!’ You then leaned in close towards bill only to find out that the little triangle was in fact wearing eyeliner and mascara. It was good, so good in fact that you’d thought it was all natural, no makeup required but apparently the dream demon was somewhat of a professional when it came to making sure his eyelashes looked good.

Needless to say you were jealous.

Which lead you to where you were now, sat in a chair Bill conjured as he did your mascara for you and all without a snide comment too, which told you that he was incredibly focused.

In the end your eyelashes looked fantastic and everyone was asking how you got them like that but you pressed a finger to your lips and said. ‘A great magician never reveals his secrets.’ Before looking over your shoulder at Bill, who was doing his own eyeliner with a fucking large ass kitchen knife. He stopped to wave his little hand at you but his eye was glued to the mirror in front of him.

You were glad you only asked him help on mascara and not eyeliner…

[hxrsheykisses]

Hiii! Ever since I found your fanfic on AO3 I've been OBSESSED! It's just that good! And this is my first request :3 The Eltingville club guys with a very much goth very much Morticia Adams vibes fem friend! She finds them interesting and calls them pet names like "hideous" or "freaks" as forms of complements and she genuinely gets sad when it's the opposite of that, and ofc she has her morbid curiosity and interests!

(sorry if it's hard to understand, English isn't my first language (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠) )

Oh ima LOVE this one🙏🙏🙏🙏 And thank you for loving my fic so much!!!!💋💋💋💋

Josh, Bill, and Jerry were intimidated by you mainly because of your appearance. It was just so offsetting for them because it was something new. They never saw someone with your style. Bill being himself would joke on you from afar but god forbid hun actually say it to your face.

Pete on the other hand was ROLLING. He was so fond of you and to him you were a horror hottie! he loved your vibe, he loved your style, he loved everything about you knowing his love for horror was high and running. He begged, and begged, and BEGGED for the other members to stop being so paranoid and just talk to you as a group! Maybe even recruit you!

“Girls aren’t allowed 🤓…” stfu

After they got tired of hearing Pete’s pleads, they obliged in scouting you out to go and have a chat with you. They had a mini argument who was going to talk to her first…Jerry was the sacrifice.

It felt so…awkward. Jerry was trying his best to not freak out due your piercing staring, your eyes just stared into his soul as he stammered over his words.

“S-So would you like to join…?—“ “No.” “O-Oh…🙁”

Jerry you’re such a sweetie we love you.

BUT…you did find the boys to be pretty amusing. They were weird—VERY weird. And to be honest they looked pretty fucking pathetic. Never talked or touched a girl who wasn’t their mother and it was so obvious—maybe you could keep them around a bit. Especially Pete because you had him wrapped tightly around your finger.

From that point on, you stuck alongside them. You didn’t participate really in the meetings, only there because you had nothing else to do. The only issue you had was how they fought a bunch, it was so nerve wracking. Everyday they fought about something a bunch of geeks like themselves would and you got tired of it. So, you being yourself decided to sprinkle in your own chaotic—just to mess around with them.

You’d treat them like pets, but also kinda like your friends. You’d call them out of their name, saying something rude about them or to them, just to see how they’d react. Also, you may or may have not made them buy you some more accessories or clothes for your gothic style. Whenever you take trips to the mall, you’d drag them along with you, not listening to complaints as you make them follow you everywhere. Like I said, you have them wrapped around your finger! You’d could tell them to do anything and they’ll do it.

Bill, he won’t let it slide. Or, at least the first few times. He would cuss at you and say something misogynistic about you but it’ll go out one ear and out the other. Once you see how you got under his skin much to your satisfaction, you’d ease it up a bit by teasing him, telling him that you meant nothing of it and how he needed to relax, your voice was cunning—but also smooth and hypnotic.

Pete? Oh. He don’t give a fuck. A fine goth girl was talking about him so why would he care? He’d thank you because woah??? (I am so sorry) He doesn’t mind the name calling because who wouldn’t want to be called out of their name by a pretty girl like you?

Jerry and Josh were still paranoid of you. So whenever you called them out of their name they would stay quiet because they don’t want to “set you off”. Like Jerry lowkey was thinking that if he ever were to get out of line with you, you would put an evil curse on him. He’s been involving himself into too many fantasy junk apparently because deep down, you don’t mean it in a rude way.

You have a strange personality, you’ll admit. But it’s never out of you being an ass about it. It’s hard to explain because so many people would take your words as rude. To you, they are just some small compliments that only someone like you could pull off. To be fair, you liked having people who didn’t really fit the social norms. You’d like people who stood out and knew that they did stand out but yet did little to fix it. That’s what you like. You’re still a good friend to them and you find yourself hanging around them more than just finding them to be brainless nerds who do jerk off rituals every fucking night—weird. But besides from that, you’ve become better. Sure, there’s still those times where you act a bit bitchy but other than that, there’s still a little part of you that lets them off the hook just a tiny bit.

The boys can’t deny that you make them feel all sorts of emotions though. Some days they hate you, some days they yearn for you, and some days they feel the need to bend at your every step. It’s a wreck but let’s be honest here, the eltingville club was always a wreck anyway so what’s the difference???

[ckret2]

Your fic has given me "sees Bill as an actual rounded character now" disease so all of the funny fanarts that reduce him to just the pathetic ex guy or to looser idiot triangle i found funny before annoy me slightly now and I'm blaming you

that's honestly hilarious because I'm having the opposite experience

I wasn't deep in Gravity Falls fandom during the peak Tumblr Sexyman Bill Cipher years—I watched the show one time and forgot about it for ~4 years—but I was close enough to see it happening on my dash. And the suave, sophisticated, infinitely in-control Bill characterization was ubiquitous throughout tumblr—the "tailor-made to dom in an x reader fic" characterization where 90% of the emotions he demonstrates are "smirking" and "brooding but in a cool way." (those are emotions now.) Some works would go as far as to say that Bill's mind was simply too alien to be relatable to a human. Most of the works featuring him with Ford depicted Ford as completely enthralled with Bill, naively worshiping the ground he floats over, while Bill was usually depicted as cool, distant, disinterested, at best faintly amused by his human toy. In fanworks like that, the idea that Bill could possibly have been distraught by losing hold of Ford was unthinkable.

And that was common enough—the cool, aloof villain—that it's jarring to go from absorbing that via osmosis for years to rewatching the show and remembering oh right, he's a bit of a dweeb that hollers at people through sock puppets and freaks out when the cops bust in on his red solo cup party.

By the time I started my fic in 2023 the sexyman Bill had died down enough that I found other folks exploring his goofy side, but it still seemed like any time I ducked in on ao3 looking for Bill-centric works, I still saw echoes of that old fanon characterization more often than not.

So for me? It's been great seeing fanworks depicting Bill as an emotionally devastated, blubbering mess over losing his favorite pawn. It's been great seeing fanworks that allow him to be a loser, a failure, a dork, sometimes bumbling or in over his head or sticking his foot in his mouth. Hell yeah! This is what I've been missing for years!

Maybe it'll get annoying eventually but right now it just feels like it's finally balancing him out.

[jun3ee]

A couple more minutes? (T.K)

A/N: If I made a fic about 2010 Tom face-fucking the reader, would y’all read…?😖🥺 ANYWAYS this was rushed asf- it’s basically the (Sub! Bill) fic I made but with Tom, it’s super rushed sry. 😔 (NOT PROOFREAD) (Sub! Tom x Fem reader)

(MDNI)

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈੈ✩‧₊˚

“B-Bitte Liebe”

Tom lets out a whimper, his body flush against yours as you straddle him, getting him all worked up before the last concert as you rub your clothed cunt against his clothed, throbbing cock. His forehead being covered in beads of sweat, but not just from the concert.

The big bad guitarists' eyes glazed over as slight tears threatened to slip over his waterline. You keep grinding your body on him as people outside continue to yell out how much minutes he had left, but frankly, could you help stopping at this point after seeing him on stage? Watching his fingers work on the guitar so expertly as the veins in his forearms slightly bulged? The panting you could hear from him as he strummed his guitar to the songs? Watching the beads of sweat slowly drip down his head after each performance? Watching him thrust into that damn guitar, bucking his hips up on it as he searched for you like a lost puppy in that big crowd with those big, beautiful brown eyes that are looking into yours right now helplessly begging to cum..? Definitely not.

“Out in twenty, Tom!”

“S-Scheiße”

He mumbles. All this guitarist talking about was being such a tough guy in all those interviews. That whole demeanor being switched as you watched him whimper and whine under you, squirming and grabbing your hips as his solidified length twitched and yearned for more under those rough textured baggy jeans of his. His teary brown eyes looking into yours as you keep grinding on his clothed cock, gripping on his long dirty-blonde dreadlocks as you watch his words turn into pretty broken whimpers, your panties already being drenched from all the stage teasing, so why not get payback?  

“F-Fuck Liebe S-S’please” He whimpers

“You like that, hm? Fucking slut”

Poor Toms cock helplessly throbbing as he breathlessly looks up at you while pathetically trying to cover his whimpers, wanting nothing more than to just pull his pants down and watch you suck his pretty cock as he overflows your mouth with his cum, but he knew he didn't deserve it after all of that teasing. You watch him helplessly grip onto anything he can, his hands desperately wandering anywhere they can as he presses sloppy kisses and hickeys down your neck. A little wet stain of pre-cum on his boxers, you couldn’t help but get even more turned on by the fact that he was such a little needy mess under you, hiding the fact he loved being degraded like the little slut he was. It just got him even more harder and whiny,

“M-M’ please”

He mumbles, the poor boys voice trembling so cutely and pathetically, each barely coherent word turning into a desperate plea or breathy whimper into the crook of your neck as the poor boy attempts to pull his pants down, his fingers fumbling on the belt as you shove them away, his cock creating a prominent print on his baggy jeans as he lets out another needy whine,

“What did I tell you, hm? Ya’ think you deserve to fuck me?”

You coo into his ear, grinding slightly more aggressively on Tom’s clothed length, feeling how hard it was through the fabric directly between your legs, causing a delicious friction. His eyebrows furrowing as pure lust and need fill his eyes.

“N-No.. J-J’s lemme cum p-please.. I-I’ll do anything”

He mumbles into your neck, little tears streaming down his cheeks as his breath hitches in the back of his throat, you keep relentlessly grinding on the needy boys cock, watching his bottom lip quiver as you start to place kisses on his lips, lolling your tongue around that sexy lip piercing of his in such a lewd way that he loved, his tongue dancing with yours in a sinful way as he bucks his hips up, rubbing and thrusting erratically between your legs, the poor guitarist unable to express his throbbing arousal as he lets out more moans and whimpers along with cut-off gasps, anxious to cum in his boxers as he whines, his needy grip on your hips with his calloused hands getting tighter as his knuckles start turning white,

“Y’ wanna cum that badly, hm?”

“B-Bitte bring mich einfach zum Abspritzen”

“Tell me how badly you want it, Slut”

You mumble into the sensitive skin of his neck as he lets out a choked gasp, sloppily kissing you and bucking his hips up faster, rubbing them up between your legs, desperate to catch his release. At this rate, you knew the poor boy was already close.

“I-I’m c-cumming!”

He chokes out, helplessly letting his hot cum burst out his cock, soaking his boxers as it ruptures through the fabric causing him to roll his eyes back and let out whiny cries. A breathless look spreads on his face, just like the one he makes while playing that damn guitar, his body going completely limp under yours, fully spaced out as he tries catching his breath in pants.

“W-We still have a couple more m-minutes, d-don't we?” He whimpers…

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Little Miss Sunshine 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Nick Fowler

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Nick and Cloudy.

Summary: a bored man needs a new light in his life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Nick's eyes stray across the street. He's distracted. He shouldn't be with the tall beauty across from him and her sparkling sapphire eyes. She's stunning to look at but he has to admit her conversation is as dull as the tablecloth. He tries not to let it show. He nods and mutters something about the earrings she keeps bobbling her head to show off.

He swallows a yawn. It's a nice restaurant, the food's always good, and yet he feels so nonplussed by it all. He lives the high life. A nice house, beautiful women, an exciting job. None of it hits anymore. It's all so boring.

Even when he's away on some mission, he doesn't feel much. It's all just so ordinary to him. He does his job and he does it well.

His eyes wander again. He's hungry. That's it. They ordered fifteen minutes ago and the wait is making him restless.

He tilts his head as he watches the girl in her hot pink jacket. He's never seen denim that shade before. Her faded jeans are tattered around the ankles and she wears a pair of heavy boots that were likely once a shade of rose but now no more than a dingy grey. She stands on the curb, watching and waiting down the road. The bus comes this way. The patio looks out on a busy street but today, the lively traffic only feels like a nuisance.

She raises her chin to see over the cars. She perks up then unhooks her large knapsack and brings it around the front. She shoves her arm inside and searches inside as she looks down. She rips her hand out and several items go flying over the pavement. She bends to pick them up as the bus nears the stop. Despite her efforts, she's too slow. The driver doesn't see her and drives past.

She stands, clutching a transparent pouch and her pass, her heavy bag weighing down her other arm. She waves helplessly and tries to chase the bus down. It doesn't heed to her nor does the cyclist heading in her direction. She barely avoids the collision and her foot slips off the curb. She lands in a heap between two bumpers.

He frowns as he watches her. He twitches, ready to get up and jump over the little fence onto the sidewalk. Pedestrians pass her by without a single look. Kelly says his name and he looks at her with a 'huh'.

"Pathetic, isn't she?" She looks across the street and snickers.

He shrugs, "seems like she's having a bad day."

"She's an idiot." She insists.

He grimaces and leans back. "You think so?"

"Sure, I mean. Look at that colour. It's not good on her complexion and she's got that bag overloaded. Can hardly blame anyone but herself--"

"She seems busy. On her way somewhere."

"Oh, I'm sure," she snorts and rolls her eyes. "She really looks like the popular type."

"You know what, I'm not too hungry anymore," he says.

"What?" She scoffs.

"Yeah, waiting kinda turned my appetite." He takes out his wallet and counts the bills. He folds them and lays them on the table. "It's on me. You can give mine to a friend or take it for yourself."

He stands and grabs his jacket from the back of the chair. She gapes at him.

"This isn't about that weirdo across the street?"

He sighs, "no, you're just kind of... not interesting."

He tweaks a brow and turns on his heel.

"Nick," she squeals after him. He doesn't stop.

He struts down the street and crosses at the lights. It's only then he glances back. She's making a scene, crying at the table. He can't remember why he asked her to come to lunch. She has nice legs but she just laid there when they hooked up last week. It was just another thing that had grown stale on him.

He makes his way along the other side. He keeps his distance until Kelly storms off, engrossed in her phone as she angrily texts whatever enabler responds first. He nears the girl in the pink coat. She sits on the curb. She's deflated. Her bag is in her lap as her legs are loosely crossed as they hang off the edge.

Kelly isn't wrong, just not in the way she said it. The girl isn't pathetic or stupid, just a bit down on her luck. He feels a pluck in his chest, the most he's felt in a long time. He's always been the person where everything just sort of goes his way. This doesn't seem to be very different. After all, life brought this curious figure into his life for some reason, right?

He passes her and takes out his phone, using the front-facing camera to get a look at her as he does. She's young. Judging by the keychain on her bag, she's attending the local college. Makes sense. She probably doesn't need a man his age circling her.

He crosses the street again. He looks at her and a wrapper bounces off her head. She looks back at the litterer as they don't even notice their offense. She huffs and gets up. She checks her phone. She grabs the wrapper and puts it in a trash can nearby.. She drops her shoulders and sets off down the pavement. She might be down but she hasn't given up.

Neither has he. Not yet. He thought he was done, that he had everything, but he's so wrong. He just wasn't looking in the right places; at the right people.

[absurdthirst]

The Hotline {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 24k

Warnings: Phone sex, sex work, Dieter being a dick, dirty talk, masturbation, mentions of anilingus, mentions of edging, switch Dieter, dominate/submissive undertones, lying, betrayal, drunk Dieter, mentions of drugs, crying, exhaustion, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy.

Comments: Taking on a job as a phone sex operator to survive takes on a surprising twist when your daytime boss, Dieter Bravo calls in. Even more surprising when he starts calling everyday. Letting you learn things you never would as his assistant and the lines between your jobs become blurred.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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

|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||

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

Dieter barely looks up from his script when you set his green tea down on the vanity. "I can't do this anymore, Evangeline. It's impossible, baby. I can't leave my wife." He says his lines, trying to memorize them and he licks his lips as he grabs his pen to make a few notes. He never says thank you for anything you give him and you've gotten used to that. "Thank you." You mumble sarcastically under your breath as you walk away to get him the special socks he wears while filming. His "lucky socks" are what got him the Oscar and "lucky you" has to wash them every night when he is done filming for the day. They are as ratty as the rest of his clothing but he swears they make his scenes better. You hear a beep and your purse vibrates with the spare phone you keep in there. With a glance around the bustling studio, you head into the bathroom to take the call from the familiar number. "Hey baby." You coo into the phone, sitting down on the toilet. You know this is wrong but it's paying your bills. You have a flashback to the night this whole thing started and you lean against the wall in the bathroom as he starts to ramble.

****

Dieter huffs as he sits alone in his bedroom. The large suite, expensively decorated, doesn't fulfill him tonight and he feels like the only man in the world. He hates feeling vulnerable like this. No amount of coke makes the feeling go away. He hums as he starts to look up some porn to jerk his feelings away when he sees the ad. Some phone sex service and he has never called a sex line like some pathetic loser who can't get laid but tonight, he needs to talk to someone, to hear a real voice moaning in his ear. Too lazy to find the real deal, he copies and pastes the number and dials. "Hello sir and welcome to the sexiest phone service in L.A. Please wait to be connected to a concierge." He should hang up now but he doesn't, desperate for attention so when the concierge comes on the line, he eagerly gives his credit card details and a fake name. "What are you looking for?" The concierge asks, tone of voice is slightly bored but Dieter pays them no mind when he asks for someone sweet and sensitive. The operator nods and connects him to "Kitty" and he waits on the line, chest heaving in anticipation.

Your phone buzzes and you are slightly surprised, it’s normally a bit between calls unless the lines are busy but you can’t turn down an opportunity to make more money. Gemma announces that ‘Daniel’ was looking for someone sweet and sensitive so you curve your lips into a smile as the beep indicates that the calls have been patched together. “Hello, Daniel.” You purr into the phone. “What are you doing tonight?”

Dieter bites his lip, hesitating for a second and wanting to hang up but your voice is so sweet, he wants to hear you speak again. “All alone.” He confesses, “thinking about things I shouldn’t be.” He admits, “what are you up to, sweetheart?”

You freeze, wondering why the voice on the phone sounds like your fucking boss. You actually pull the phone away from your ear to check to make sure you have picked up the right one. It would suck if you hadn’t, although you had just talked to Gemma. “You aren’t alone now.” You coo softly. “I’m just sitting in my bed, wondering what I’m going to do with my night.”

“Yeah?” Dieter asks, his fingers tracing his thigh as he sits in his ratty sweatpants, cock twitching at your soft tone that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. “I know what you’re gonna do with your night. You’re gonna talk to me.” He says it like it’s obvious, and then he clears his throat. “I haven’t - I haven’t really done this before. Phone sex. Well, I’ve had phone sex. I’ve just never paid for it and I- shit, I’m rambling. Uhhhhh, what are you wearing?” He tries and wants to slap his forehead for being so cliche.

It is Dieter. You want to disconnect the call and pretend like it never happened. Unsure of how this could affect your relationship, but the soft ping of the minute timer echoes, reminding you that every minute you keep him on the phone is another payment towards your debt that is crushing you. “Hmmmmm.” You decide that you like that Dieter, asshole that he normally is, is a little off kilter. “I’m in a white tank top with no bra and red panties.” You tell him honestly, but you drop your voice to make it sound sexier than it is. “It’s so hot, I have to lounge like that to try and stay cool. What are you wearing?”

Dieter swallows, his cock twitching as it starts to harden. He has no clue what you look like but that kind of turns him on more. The mystery. You have no idea who he is. No idea that he’s an Oscar winning actor. He’s anonymous and that’s probably the hottest thing to him right now. “Sweatpants.” He answers honestly, “no shirt. No underwear.” He smirks a little, looking down at his bulge, knowing that women love the look of gray sweats. “It’s a hot summer.” He coos, “so hot. I think you better take the tank top off to really cool down.”

“Naughty.” You chuckle quietly, shuffling the phone slightly and pretending like you are taking off your clothes. This is your boss. No matter what school girl crush you had on him when you were first hired, Dieter hadn’t given you the time of day. Which was insulting when you realized that he constantly hit on anyone that walked by him. “That is cooler. What about you, baby? Aren’t those sweats hot?”

“They are.” Dieter agrees, placing the phone on speaker so he can lift his hips and shove his sweatpants down. His cock is hard now, aching at the dulcet tones of your voice and he wants to hear you moan, wants to hear you whisper dirty things to him. “I’m naked now…and hard for you, Kitty. I- fuck - I want to suck on your tits.” He blurts out, hating that he’s always had a breast feeding kink but he’s terrified of being a father. You don’t know him, he can act out these fantasies without your judgment.

“Ohhhhh.” You sigh softly and even though he would never know the difference, you actually do reach down and cup your breast. “I love having my tits sucked on.” You admit, imagining your boss with that whiny, pouty mouth wraps around a nipple. “It feels so good to me, baby. Would you squeeze them while you sucked or would you want them to just beg for your attention?”

Dieter groans softly, imagining pliable soft flesh he can squeeze and he nods against the phone, “yes. Squeeze them. Suck on them. I’d - fuck - I would suck on them until you were begging me for more. Until - until your milk squirts into my mouth.” He groans, caressing his thigh in an effort to drag this out and not jerk off so fast. You might judge him, but he doesn’t know you and you don’t know him, so he doesn’t care.

Your brows shoot up, discovering that you are learning one of Dieter’s secret fantasies. He’s open about sex, talks about it enough, but you’ve never heard about that. “Would you like that?” You ask him softly. “Drinking down my milk? Letting you nurse?”

Dieter can’t stop the groan that escapes his lips at your dirty words. “Fuckkkk. Yesss. I- I would drink it all down. Leave none for the baby.” He pants, brushing his fingers over the leaking tip of his cock. “Want to suck on your tits while you sit on my cock. You wanna do that, baby?” He asks, curious if you’re into this or just acting. He doesn’t care either way. He’s enjoying this.

You moan, surprised yourself that the thought actually turns you on. It’s not like you haven’t seen Dieter’s dick. You’ve seen the man walk around his house in nothing but a bathrobe and crocs. Or sprawled out naked on his bed with his flaccid cock out. He’s pretty impressive and you’ve always wondered how he would feel. “I do. You want me to squeeze your cock tight in my little pussy while you gulp my milk down?”

“Fuckkkkk.” Dieter hisses, wanting to jerk off but he wants this to last. “Yes. I bet you’re so tight. Like a goddamn vice, aren’t you, Kitty? God, you sound so beautiful. Want you to be round with my baby, sitting on my cock.” He confesses his darkest fantasy. He has come to realize in his older age that he wants a family but he can never have it. His job, his personality, his lifestyle…none of it is conducive to having a wife or a child. He’s accepted it won’t happen for him but he likes to think about it.

You feel your cunt flood with arousal and you gasp quietly. It will play into the sweet and sensual that Dieter apparently craves. “So tight. It would be so good.” You promise him, wondering what he would do if he knew the woman he is calling beautiful is the same woman he ignores every day. “I’d run my hands through your hair. Do you like it when someone plays with your hair, baby?”

“Yes. I fucking love that.” He practically whimpers as he imagines it. “I want - I want to feel you cum around me. Gush and soak my cock. God, I bet you taste so sweet too. Have you sit on my face. Tell me, are you touching yourself?” He asks breathlessly.

“Yes.” It’s an easy lie, but you’re actually wishing you were touching yourself. You squeeze your breast and moan softly. “Are you touching yourself? I know you have the best cock. Nice and thick for me to impale myself on and ride until I cum.”

“I- I was waiting for you to tell me I could touch myself. I- I haven’t done this before and I- I didn’t know what was appropriate.” He confesses, his fingers twitching, “I’m so hard for you. I want to touch myself. Kitty, can I touch myself?” He asks, voice strained with the restraint he’s showing.

He’s submissive. You bite your lip, eyes wide as you realize this man would be putty in your hands, even if it’s over the phone. “Spit in your hand and wrap it around your cock, baby.” You order him softly. “I want you to feel good. Imagine it’s my pussy, squeezing you tight.”

Dieter follows your order, groaning in relief when he spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around his hard cock. “Fuck. That’s - your cunt is so tight.” He murmurs, closing his eyes as he tries to imagine you - Kitty - on his cock and squeezing him tight. “Feel so good, baby.”

“Oh baby.” You breathlessly moan and reposition in bed. “Fuck, you’re so big, filling me up.” You praise him, knowing how much men love having their egos stroked. You moan again. “How do you want to fuck me? Slow and steady or fast and frantic?”

“Slow. I want slow.” He confesses, yearning for the softness that is missing in his normal liaisons. Usually, it’s fast and frantic and rushed because he wants to retreat back to his solitude. He’s tired of meaningless sex but that’s all he can get. He can’t have connections. How many NDAs can someone have signed? “Are you touching that little clit for me?” Dieter asks, voice deepening with his arousal.

“Yessss.” You whine softly, tempted to actually touch yourself and your hand does slide down to the edge of your panties but you don’t delve under them. “Rubbing my clit so gently and imagining your head between my thighs. Feeling how softly you would lick me, while I play with your hair and tell you how good you are.”

"Fuck yes, baby. Oh God, I can practically feel your fingers running through my hair. I love it. Shit. Feels so good. Wanna - wanna feel you cum on my tongue." He admits, imagining a woman sitting on his face, using his tongue. His cock twitching in his tight grip and he knows you can hear him jerking his cock.

“Oh I’m gonna baby, that tongue is gonna make me scream your name.” You promise him breathlessly. It’s incredibly satisfying to hear him pant for you, the sounds of him fisting his cock doesn’t sound vulgar. It sounds pretty empowering. “Baby, you’re gonna- oh fuck.”

Hearing you moan has him cumming. Worked up from sitting and thinking about having sex and then the call with you…he can’t last much longer. “That’s it baby. Oh shit. That’s it. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me - fuckkkkk.” He groans out, squeezing his cock as he spills his hot seed onto his chest and belly.

You pretend to pant as you listen to Dieter groan and work himself through his orgasm over the phone. Surprised that he still hasn’t figured out your voice, you hum. “Was that good for you, baby?”

“So good. So fucking good.” He pants, his eyes closed as he enjoys his orgasm and he can’t believe how good he feels. He doesn’t feel used or dirty like he does when he finds some wannabe model or a fan to fuck. “You’re so good.” He murmurs, letting go of his cock.

“That’s you, baby.” You coo softly. You know the phone call will end soon, it always does after the entire point of the call is fulfilled. “Never had it this good before.” You feel like he won’t believe that, and it’s just lip service, but you’ve actually enjoyed talking to your boss tonight.

Dieter smiles against the phone, satisfied both physically and emotionally for the first time in so long. “I wanna talk to you again.” He says once he’s sobered up a little from his orgasm.

“You can call anytime.” You promise him with a small smirk, very aware that he would be talking to you in just a few hours. “If you want to call me again tomorrow night, I’d really like that.”

“Yeah? I'd love that.” Dieter says with a sloppy smile on his face. He doesn’t know why but he felt a real connection to you. Something he hasn’t felt in so long. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Kitty. Sweet dreams.” He murmurs, suddenly wanting to get some sleep before he has to be up for his call time. **** 

“Can’t you just get me a fucking cup of tea?” He growls at the catering assistant before he spins to see you. “Oh good. Get me some tea.” He orders, grumpy despite his good sleep.

Your brow shoots up, sure that he would have been in a better mood after last night. “Yes sir,” you throw him a sarcastic salute, grinning when he just rolls his eyes and stomps off towards his trailer. You turn towards the caterer and give them an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, can I get a tea?”

Dieter doesn't look up at you as you set the tea down on the counter in front of him as he sits in front of the makeup trailer mirror. He sighs and looks up at you, "took you long enough."

“They were having a problem with their hot water.” You tell him, even though you know he won’t care in the least. “I’ve got to go pick up your pages.” You tell him, knowing there will be script changes, there have been every day since shooting has started.

Dieter hums, glancing up as you exit the trailer and his eyes drop down to your ass. He’s never really allowed himself to pay attention to you before. Your pretty eyes and the way you unknowingly sway your hips. He’d fuck you if you weren’t employed by him. He sighs and sips the tea, glancing up at Josh who handles his makeup on every movie. “What?” He asks and Josh chuckles, “you gotta be nicer to her.” He says and Dieter snorts, “she’s not paid for me to be nice.”

You sigh as you walk back to the make-up trailer. Pulling out your second phone so you can check when you need to be available. When Dieter is filming, you will have at least two hours to take calls. Dieter doesn’t recognize your voice, which is a good thing, but he’s also being his most difficult self. That’s normal, but you feel oddly deflated after that conversation last night.

**** 

Dieter bites his lip as he listens to the dial tone. He had asked for Kitty specifically and he is already half hard. It’s late, his script abandoned as he waits to hear that sweet voice he’s been thinking about for the past twenty-four hours.

You look at your phone as you finish up your dinner, sighing softly. You had expected at least a few more hours before he called. You answer and wait for the call to connect as you turn off the stove and plate up your food. Hopefully he won’t hear you trying to eat.

Dieter grins when you answer the phone, “hey Kitty. I’ve been thinking about you all day.” He confesses and you snort, “all day?” 

Dieter hums, “all fucking day. Imagined you moaning out when you cum.” He coos and clears his throat a moment later when you don’t reply. “Are you there, baby?”

You swallow the bite of your food and almost call him out on this shit today, but Dieter doesn’t know that it’s you. If he did, you bet he wouldn’t be thinking about you all day. “I’m here baby, I’m sorry, I was getting comfortable.” You aren’t lying, eating is getting comfortable. Especially since you had been working, talking to other clients while Dieter was on set and you didn’t manage to get lunch today.

“No problem. Are you comfortable?” Dieter asks, wanting you to be comfortable while he’s on the phone to you. 

“Yes. I’m all comfy baby.” You promise and Dieter hums in delight. 

“Good. I- I - I didn’t have a great day today. It was shit. Work didn’t go too great and I want to just forget about it.”

"What do you do?" You ask him, curious if he would brag about being an Oscar winning actor like he is so apt to do in real life, or if he would say something else. 

"Oh, I'm - I do creative licensing." He tells you, making you hum, intrigued by this interpretation of acting. 

"Wow, that sounds really important, I'm sorry that you had a bad day, what can I do to make you feel better, baby?"

“You can talk to me. Tell me about your day.” He demands softly, wanting to hear it. He wants to hear you talk, comforted and turned on by your voice. “And tell me what you’re wearing.” He adds, his cock semi hard from hearing that sweet voice answer the phone.

It’s surprising that he wants to hear about someone else’s day. You hum and look down at your work clothes. “I’m just wearing my robe after taking a shower. I needed to wipe the day away too. My boss-” You break off, not sure if you should tell him such a thing. 

“Your boss is what?” Dieter asks and you sigh. 

“My boss is…ungrateful.” You decide. “But I shouldn’t talk about that.” 

Dieter shakes his head, “no. Tell me. I want to hear about it.” He says, wanting to hear about someone else’s life instead of his miserable existence. He’s tired of being alone, of spending his days alone, spending his days being someone else. Pretending to be something else. He wants to hear something menial, not his complicated shit.

You sigh softly and take another bite of your food. “I am the senior executive assistant to the CEO of the company I work for.” You know Dieter has his own company for tax purposes, so that’s technically correct. “My boss just seems to never have a kind word, or not treat me like I’m supposed to jump every time he says.”

Dieter frowns, “that’s not right. You should be treated with respect. You work hard? You should be looked after.” He says with a harsh tone towards your boss. Your voice is so sweet, you shouldn’t be having to jump at a moment’s notice. “If I was your boss, I’d look after you.” He promises, having no idea how ridiculous it is that he actually is your boss.

You roll your eyes, aware of how untrue that was. “Yeah baby?” You want to turn the conversation away from you. It would be too easy to give something away he might recognize. “What would you do to take care of me if I was yours?”

“Everything.” He sighs dreamily. “I’d look after you. Make sure you’re treated with respect. Paid well.” He promises despite his mind drifting to you. “You deserve to be looked after. Relaxed and happy.” He murmurs, glancing over at his script that you gave him. “You’re just wearing a robe?” He asks, his cock still half hard.

“Yes baby.” You are delighted he has come back to sex. Reliable, that’s Dieter. “Red silk. It comes to my thighs and I think it’s the sexiest thing I own.”

“Shit.” He grunts, “and nothing underneath?” He asks and you hum, “nothing.” He groans at that news, “take it off. The sexiest thing you can wear is nothing. Is your little pussy weeping?” He asks, wanting to hear you talk some more.

“Soaked and dripping down my thighs.” You confess, even though it’s just what he wants to hear. “Your voice is so sexy baby, it turns me on. I started getting wet when you said hello.”

“Good. Good. I- I fucking - fucking love that. I love that. I’m getting hard for you baby.” He groans, spitting into his hard and wrapping his fingers around his cock. “Your voice is so sweet. I love it. I wanna listen to you all day.”

You smirk to yourself and coo softly into the telephone. “You like my voice? I think yours is sexy. I bet it sounds amazing when you're right next to my ear, about to cum.” You flatter. “How hard are you right now? Are you throbbing? Squeeze your cock for me, baby.”

"Yes. I'm throbbing for you now." Dieter groans, squeezing his cock as you order. "Tell me what to do. I want to listen to you talk. Fuck, so sexy when you order me around." He whines softly as he starts to slowly pump his cock.

Your groan comes through the line and you hum. “Press your thumb over the tip and smear your pre-cum around the head.” You order him. “Are you cut, or uncircumcised?” You ask as if you don’t know.

“Uncut.” Dieter confesses, “I- I came here as a kid from South America and my parents - they don’t- it’s - do you prefer cut or uncut?” He asks out of curiosity as he follows your order and moans when his thumb swipes over the head of his cock.

Uncut is more sensitive and you like peeling the foreskin down to reveal the leaking head. “I like uncut, baby.” You purr. “Love when your eyes roll back when I press my tongue to the head. So responsive.”

“Fuck baby. Yes. Yes. I love that. Wanna see you take my cock into your mouth.” He groans and he pumps himself a few times, squeezing and trying not to cum too fast. He loves listening to you. “Baby. Fuck, keep talking for me baby.”

“I bet you're thick. Nice and thick and veiny. Easy to jerk off and you love when someone looks up at you when they are sucking your cock, don’t you?” You have heard him talk about blow jobs but you tried to tune it out as much as you could since he was bragging. “Eyes wide and maybe innocent looking?”

Dieter groans, “yes. Yes I do. Oh God. You know me baby. You know me so well already. Wanna see your eyes as you look up at me, mouth full of my cock. Jesus, so fucking sexy. You sound so fucking beautiful.” He pants, jerking his cock a little faster.

You know he doesn’t think that way about you, but it’s nice to hear. “I bet you like having your balls sucked on too, don’t you?” You hum. “Hand around your cock, jerking you off while licking and sucking on your balls. Does that sound good, baby?”

Dieter let’s out a sound between a choke and a moan. The whine makes you smirk and he can’t help but groan out “Kitty. Yes. Fuck. And - and want - God. Want you to lick my ass.” He groans, cock twitching in your hand.

You wrinkle your nose, having zero interest in eating ass, especially Dieter’s, but you moan softly. “I’ll do that for you baby.” You lie, knowing that he would never know the difference. “Make you feel so good. You’ll be cumming quickly. Do you want to cum down my throat or on my tits?”

“Down your throat. Fuck. Want to see you swallow my cum down that pretty throat of yours.” He groans, pumping his cock a little faster and he whimpers when he twitches, so close to cumming. “Fuck. I wanna - I wanna feel you. Wanna see you. Are you- are you close?” He asks breathlessly.

“I’m close baby,” you moan softly. “Imagining the two fingers inside me is your thick cock.” You tell him. “Pumping into me like you are trying to make me scream.”

“Yes. I’d make you scream my name so fucking loud baby.” He promises, “everyone would hear it. God, wanna hear you cum. Can you cum for me?” He begs, his cock throbbing and he’s so close. The tip of his cock is an angry red and he is leaking pre-cum onto his sheets but he doesn’t care.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum for you baby.” You whimper, knowing he wants to hear you. You aren’t touching yourself, but you know how to sound like you are. “Oh fuck, I’m- you baby, moan for me, I’m gonna- gonna cum!” You squeal quietly.

Dieter nearly drops the phone as he listens to you cum and he swears he’s about to blackout from the pleasure until he finally cums, spurting onto his sheets and his chest, a low strangled sound escaping his lips as he orgasms.

You listen to him cum, panting into the phone as you ‘come down’ from your high. “So good, you’re so good, baby.” You coo. “How does it feel? Do you feel relaxed? Sleepy? I always get so sleepy after I cum.”

“Sleepy and relaxed.” He slurs slightly. He hasn’t gotten high tonight, wanting to talk to you properly and he is drunk on you, on your voice. “Thank you, Kitty.” He murmurs, his cum already drying on his skin.

“You’re welcome.” You smile as you hear his voice slip into the pitch that it normally is when he’s about to fall asleep or just waking up. “You should get some sleep, baby.” You murmur softly, aware that you’ve collected a nice paycheck from this call. “I hope you have a better day tomorrow.”

“Me too.” He murmurs, reaching for the tissues on the side so he can clean himself up. “Thank you, Kitty. Have a good night.” He says, hating to lose the connection but he has to get some sleep for his call time tomorrow. “Goodnight.” You murmur and he hangs up, hearing the amount he’s spent but it’s worth every penny to hear that voice.

The next morning, you wonder what kind of mood Dieter will be in. He had been in a bad mood yesterday after talking to you, and he had spent longer on the phone with you last night. “Good morning, Mr. Bravo.” You had swung by the caterer to grab his tea on your way to his trailer. His call time is in an hour, so he has ten minutes before he has to be in makeup.

Dieter rubs his cheek as his hair is styled and he looks up at you, frowning for a second. There’s a tone to your voice that reminds him of Kitty and he has the sudden urge to call her but it’s too early and he has resigned himself to a call a day. “Morning.” He mumbles and you hand him the tea. He doesn’t say thank you as he takes a sip, “have you organized the dinner with that model my PR wants me to ‘date’?”

“Yes.” You want to sigh but you resist. You know you will need to arrange to have his housekeeper come by tomorrow even though it would be a normal off day. She will need to change the sheets and clean whatever toys Dieter used on the model. Plus any of the drug residue. “You are booked at the Palm for nine o’clock. Table for two, very visible. I’ve got a call into Star for a photog to take pap pics.”

Dieter nods, glancing back at himself in the mirror. “She’s gonna have about three brain cells but I’ll see what I can do with them.” He snorts and his hairstylist chuckles, shaking his head. “Fucking PR wanting me to ‘settle’ down because I’m getting older.” He scoffs, “I’m not old.”

You don’t point out that he’s solidly middle aged and the hair department has to dye his hair to rid him of the grays. “Of course you’re not.” You agree softly. “Maybe she will be a marvelous conversationalist.”

Dieter can't help but laugh, "oh sure. That's how she got her job. Her brains." He chuckles softly and shakes his head, "you do make me laugh." He points at you before he clears his throat. "I want those tacos from the place opposite the studio for lunch. Chicken. No, beef. And don't let them skimp on the guac."

“Okay.” You nod. “Chicken, good amount of guac, cilantro and onions.” You know his order practically everywhere at this point but he continues to tell you like it’s your first day. “Do you want queso, or pinto beans?”

“I said beef.” He huffs, rolling his eyes. “No beans. We are doing some action and I don’t wanna be farting up a storm on the set. Tummy gets gassy with beans.” He admits and you wrinkle your nose, “queso. I’ll have queso. And get me a side of rice.”

“Beef.” You know he said chicken but you won’t argue that point. “Extra guac, cilantro and onions, queso with a side of rice.” You barely suppress the urge to roll your eyes. “Aqua Fresca?”

“Of course.” He scoffs like you should know his order without him even saying anything. “Always. See if they have the lime flavor I like.” He says, reaching down to flip the page of today’s lines. “God, it’s exhausting trying to order food.” He huffs softly to himself.

You sigh, your shoulders rounding slightly at the comment. Dieter is egotistical and high strung, making the smallest tasks difficult and for a moment, you wish you were talking to him on the phone. You like that version of him. “Text me if you need anything.” You murmur before leaving the trailer.

He doesn’t look up but he can feel his hair stylist’s eyes on him. “What?” He says without looking up. 

“She’s good for you, Dieter. Don’t run her off. You need to be nicer.” 

Dieter looks up, “she’s a tough girl. I’m just preparing her for this business. I’m doing her a favor.” He says and looks back at his lines. 

**** 

“So I can’t believe how absolutely amazing tonight went.” The model, Sabrina, smiles at Dieter who offers her a fake, Oscar winning smile back. 

“Soooo good. So, uh listen, this went well but this is purely PR.” He says and she frowns, “you don’t want me to come back to yours?” She asks and Dieter usually would be all over snorting coke off of her perky ass and having her sit on his cock but all he can think about is going home and calling Kitty. 

“As incredible as that sounds, I’m tired and honestly? You could talk less about Kylie and Kim. It’s a little too much, ya know?” He tilts his head, “this is to help your career, baby girl, so just kiss me for the paps and we can both go home to our comfy beds, m’kay?” He hums and her mouth flaps like a fish, shocked at his rejection. Dieter pays the bill and the couple walk outside to the paps waiting for him. Dieter ignores them, walking Sabrina to her car and he leans in to kiss her, his hands sliding down to squeeze her ass and he pats it after a second. “Nice date, baby. See ya for the next one.” He winks, slinking off to his own car. He drives a little too fast but as soon as he’s home, he’s grabbing his phone to dial the number he’s memorized.

It’s hard not to sulk tonight, drowning your sorrows in a pint of ice cream and watching Netflix. If you didn’t have a humongous debt, you probably would be pouting. Instead, you are talking to a priest, listening to his fantasies about fucking the leader is the choir in front of the congregation on Sunday. You’ve already role-played and he’s cum, now you are just getting rid of him. Trying not to think about the fact that your boss should be balls deep in that model by now.

The phone rings and Dieter requests Kitty. “She’s on another call at the moment. Do you want to call back?” The operator asks and Dieter’s stomach twists at the thought of his girl talking to someone else. Ridiculous when she isn’t his but he likes to imagine she is. “I’ll call back.” He says, hanging up and he decides to get something to drink to run down the minutes. He calls again twenty minutes later, anxious and itching to talk to you.

You’re shocked when your phone rings and Gemma tells you that Daniel is requesting you again. “He’s becoming a regular.” She giggles and you hum, telling her to put the call through. 

“Hello?”

“Hey Kitty.” Dieter smiles, feeling relaxed just hearing your voice. “I’ve missed hearing that pretty voice.” He admits, “been thinking about you all day.”

“You have?” You lean back onto your couch and resist the urge to call him out. “That’s good. You sound like you’ve been busy.” It’s a question, but maybe not. “Or not busy enough if you’ve been thinking of me all day.”

Dieter snorts, "to be honest...I had a date tonight but I wasn't into her. It was, uh, a blind date, and she was boring as fuck. I didn't want to waste time taking her home when I could talk to you." He confesses, "she didn't have your voice."

That’s interesting. “What’s wrong with her voice?” You had seen some clips of her, but never an interview, maybe she has a really nasally voice, he hates that.

"She wasn't you. She - she wanted to talk about the fucking Kardashians all night and I - she didn't know any of the classics. She hasn't even seen The Godfather. Who the fuck hasn't seen The Godfather?" He rambles a little, "she was boring and she kept looking at herself in the mirror behind me."

“Hmmmm.” Yeah, totally not Dieter’s type. Despite his complete self absorption, he loves classic movies. “So I guess that means she’s never seen Some Like it Hot, or Casablanca?” You snort, shaking your head. “The latest TikTok make-up trend is probably more her speed then. I’m sorry, baby. I’m sure that you won’t be seeing her again.”

Dieter rubs his cheek, "it's, uh, it's complicated. I have to. For my job. I have to see her again and she's gonna bore me to death. She was talking and I could barely stop myself from stabbing my ear drums with the cocktail stick from her martini." He snorts, "how was your evening?"

“It’s okay.” You shrug. “A little lonely.” You tell him teasingly, although it might sound flat. You really wonder what you’ve done to make him hate you as his assistant, it must be something. “Wanted to relax and have a bottle of wine, but I have to have wine to do that.”

"You don't have any wine?" Dieter frowns, "you gotta have some wine if you want it!" He says and he runs his fingers over his sheets, feeling guilty for going on that date even though he doesn't know who Kitty is. He wants to though. More than anything.

“Maybe I’ll treat myself this weekend if my boss doesn’t have me working.” You hum softly, aware that Dieter will have you working, he always does. “What do you want to talk about tonight, baby? I want to make you feel good.”

He doesn't actually want phone sex. He just wants to listen to your voice. "I- I want to hear you talk about your day. Then I want - I want you to tell me what you fantasize about." He declares and you shake your head despite knowing he can't see you. "This is about you." You remind him but he snorts, "exactly. And that's what I want."

You scramble to tell him about your day without giving too much away. “It was frustrating.” You admit. “I think my boss purposely tries to make me feel worthless.” You tell him. “He wanted me to go run an errand for him, tells me what to do, I repeat it back to him and then he changes it and complains.”

“He sounds like a dick.” Dieter scoffs and you bite your lip to smother your chuckle at the irony. “Why do you work for this guy if he’s such an asshole?” He asks, curious as to why you’d let someone treat you like that.

“I need a job.” You answer honestly, wondering what he would say if you told him the truth about the guy who’s a dick. “It’s also why I am on the phone with you. I have a lot of debt that is drowning me. My degree became useless when the industry tanked.”

Dieter frowns, not liking how desperate you sound. “What did you get your degree in?” He asks, trying to figure out how he can help you more. You’re so sweet and kind. He doesn’t want to see anything happen to you because you can’t pay your bills.

“It’s definitely not something you’ve heard of.” You promise, not sure if you’ve told Dieter or if he paid attention. “But that makes my fantasy to be a sugar baby.” You joke, giggling quietly. “Not really, but I can dream, right?”

Dieter snorts, “you can definitely dream, baby. I want to send you some money. Can I?” He asks, wanting to look after you even if it’s not as a sugar baby/sugar daddy relationship.

There’s no way that you can have him send you money. He would know it’s you. “No, no, don’t do that baby.” You insist. “Talking to me right here is enough.”

Dieter whines, “but I’m willing to help you out, Kitty. I don’t want you to struggle. I- I can help.” He says but you turn him down again. “Can we - can we stay on the phone for longer? Extend the calls so you get more money?”

“That would work, baby.” You are surprised that Dieter is willing to spend more money, or give you money. He had turned you down when you asked for a raise a few months ago. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Tell me about your dreams. What do you wanna do? I’m guessing that being a phone sex operator isn’t your ideal. I wanna know what you want for your life.” Dieter says, knowing he’s had so much success but he wants to hear what someone else wants from their life.

“No, being a phone sex operator isn’t ideal.” You admit with a small chuckle. “Honestly? My secret dream? The one I’ve never told anyone?” You tempt him, making him huff and impatiently exclaim, “of course, tell me!” You bite your lip. “I want to be a writer.” You confess softly. “I could be a stay at home mom if I ever met someone and wanted kids. But I want to write. Books, films, it doesn’t matter.”

Dieter smiles, “you written anything?” He asks, curious since he has read enough movie scripts during his time. “Have you written anything or just have some ideas?”

You hum softly. “I have nearly two hundred pages written. A story about a girl who is an assistant to a movie star. A real asshole.” You clear your throat. “I figured it would be different from my real boss so he wouldn’t recognize himself.”

“Smart.” Dieter chuckles, “can I - can you read some of it? I wanna see if it’s something…I have a friend in the movie industry. I could see if he can get it to someone. Maybe get it picked up?” Dieter offers.

If you had asked Dieter Bravo to read your script, he would have scoffed and tossed it in the trash. Now he’s begging you to read your story. “I - I can email you a copy.” It would be easy to create another email account that isn’t linked to your real life. “If you really want to read it, don’t feel obliged to, though.”

“I want to read it.” Dieter says, almost hungry to consume every thing you’re willing to give him. “I want to read it and see if I can help you. You sound so sweet, so beautiful, I want to help any way I can.” He says and clears his throat, “you- I love how you sound. Think about you during the day…what you’re up to.”

“You would be surprised.” You huff, rolling your eyes. “It would bore you and probably annoy you.” You honestly believe that Dieter believes that he is better than your imaginary boss. “I did my boss’s laundry and arranged for him to have business meetings for the next few weeks.”

“He sounds like a dick.” Dieter scoffs, “you should quit. Let me take care of you.” He says playfully, “we could spend our days talking about movies or going to the beach. I haven’t been to the beach in so long.” He sighs, “when was the last time you went to the beach?”

“Honestly? It was about a month ago.” You admit. “The beach is free entertainment. I was…out of town for a while and when I got back from the business trip, it was the first thing I did.” You had needed the time to clear your mind, Dieter had been horrible while on location and you needed the salt and sand to decompress.

“I wanna go.” Dieter huffs, feeling impulsive but unable to go. It’s too late. “Maybe one day. I- my schedule is so busy. I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a tiny bikini though.” He smirks, imagining laying out in the sun, flirting and kissing. Something he hasn’t enjoyed in so long.

You giggle but you want to snort. You doubt he would want to see you in a bikini, he’s never even glanced at you twice. Unless he’s angry and ridiculing you. “Maybe one day, baby. What’s your favorite thing to do at the beach? I love laying out and sunning. I- the last time I was in Europe, I went to a nude beach.”

“You’ve been to Europe?” He asks, knowing it’s rude to assume you haven’t but he is surprised you have. “I like the nude beaches.” He adds, knowing he can’t go to them in case there are paps but he enjoys laying out in the sun.

“They are great, I came back with no tan lines.” You hum, smiling at the memory. It had made it worth it to put up with Dieter’s antics that entire trip. “I would like to go back, or even better, have a house with a private pool and be able to sunbathe nude next to it.”

“Ooo that sounds relaxing. And sex by the pool. Sex in the sun.” He fantasizes, “fucking someone in the pool. Fucking you in the pool.” He amends, “the sun on our skin. Imagine that, baby. Just enjoying life with no worries. Sex and sun and wine.”

“Sex is great.” You admit. “But I want a connection with the person I’m with. Intimacy. Laying in bed and talking about our day, our hopes and dreams. Planning out our future even if we both know it will never happen.” You smile sadly.

He understands that. His ex wife…that was a disaster and he is still paying out the alimony for that mistake. “Yeah? I want that too. To talk about anything and everything. The future. God, the future. I don’t even wanna think about the future most of the time.”

“Yeah, I have to survive the day, let alone plan for the future.” You snort and shake your head. “I can barely have a date, let alone find something permanent.”

Dieter understands that too. His schedule is so scattered he can’t make plans. His December could change three times before it’s finalized. “You deserve to be treasured.” Dieter says after a few moments.

“I’m glad you think so.” You murmur softly. “Maybe you can treat people in your life since I’m not there.” You suggest. “Do you have anyone you see everyday? A co-worker? Assistant? I don’t even know what you do.”

“I have an assistant.” He confesses, avoiding your question about what he does. “My job is stressful. I- I was brought to America as a young kid and immediately, my parents signed me up for drama class thinking it would help me learn English. It did and I fell in love with movies. I have had a life dictated for me by my parents’ desire to see me become successful in this country and it worked but - but I missed having a childhood.” He confesses, “I missed my family.”

“Oh.” You frown slightly, feeling bad for Dieter and the stress he must have been under as a young child. You never knew that about him. “I’m sorry.” You murmur softly. “I hate that you missed your family and your childhood. What did you imagine doing?”

“I wanted…it’s so dumb.” He snorts, “I wanted to be a zoo keeper. I loved - I love animals. I wanted to work with lions and tigers. And monkeys. I wanted to nurture something. I - I don’t nurture anything now.” He says with sadness, a little upset at how fickle his life has become.

“That’s great.” You sigh softly. “You should. I’m sure that there’s some wildlife conservations you can help out. I always try to donate to my favorite causes when I have some extra money.”

“Yeah. I could do that. I’ll speak to my ma - my finance manager and see what can be done.” He says, “I want to help out. Especially here in California. Are you in Cali or somewhere else?”

“I’m in California.” You tell him. “Los Angeles, although I would love to live out in the desert.” You smile, thinking about the movies that have been filmed out there. Dieter never wanted to do one because the sun was so bright. “Where do you live?”

“Uh, L.A. too. North L.A.” He says vaguely, “funny. In this big city and I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re so…genuine. I love it.” He admits with a soft smile, “do you- are you going to - what are you wearing?” He asks, his voice dropping.

This is something that you are used to. Dieter is always horny. “Another tank top and panties.” You tell him. “I need to do laundry but I can’t muster the energy.”

“Don’t do laundry. Just walk around your house naked.” Dieter chuckles, “so I can call and you can tell me how you’re making that sweet cunt of yours weep for me.” He groans, his cock twitching as he starts to harden, imagining Kitty sitting there, listening to him.

“Do you walk around your own house naked?” You ask, knowing that he’s more likely to walk around in his boxers and ratty bathrobe, but maybe he strips down when you aren’t around. “I should be naked. Save on clothes.”

“Sometimes. Depends on the weather. If it’s really hot I’ll walk around naked.” He doesn’t tend to do it a lot just in case someone snaps a photo. Despite his vivacious sex life, he hasn’t been caught naked on camera, not even for an indie movie. “You should be naked. I - I wish I could see you naked.”

“I’m afraid you would be disappointed.” You claim, making his scoff. 

“No I wouldn’t.” He insists. “I would be in awe of every inch of your body.” It’s a nice claim but you highly doubt it, you’ve seen the people he fucks. They are way beyond your league. 

“The best part of this, you can imagine I look like whatever you want.”

“Baby.” He whines, “I- I know you won’t but I wish you could describe what you looked like. So I could imagine sinking inside of you, making you moan my name. Wanna watch you cum on my tongue, my fingers…my cock.”

“I won’t tell you what I look like,” he huffs even though he expected it and you grin. “But I will tell you that I waxed my pussy. So it’s nice and bare. Brazilian. Clean front and back.” Dieter had tossed you a gift bag telling you that he didn’t want it and you had used the generous gift card inside to treat yourself a few weeks ago.

“Shitttttt.” Dieter hisses, imagining sliding his tongue through bare folds, rimming smooth skin. “Fuck. You have noooo idea how hot that is.” Dieter admits, “does it feel good, baby? Silky smooth?”

“It’s so good. I never want to have hair again.” You admit with a giggle. “Sometimes I just touch myself just to enjoy the soft skin. Turning myself on. I bet your tongue would feel so good on my bare pussy.”

“It would.” He says with utter conviction, “I would make you cum on my tongue. Over and over. I’m- fuck - I’m hard for you, baby. I need you.” He pants, his cock aching now and he wraps his fingers around his hard length.

“You need me?” You bite your lip and actually palm your breast. “How do you want me? If I was right in front of you, right now, what would you do to me? Touch yourself and tell me.” You order.

Dieter chokes at the sweetness of your voice. “I - fuck. I’d want you to sit on my face while you suck my cock. I’d lick that sweet pussy, God, that sweet soft pussy. Suck on your clit, bury my tongue inside of you. Lick you up.”

“Yeah? Ride your face while I take your thick cock down my throat and moan around you when you push your tongue inside me?” You coo. “I would love that. I could have my pussy eaten all day. And I love sucking cock.”

Dieter hisses, squeezing his cock, “baby. Oh shit. That - I want you to suck my cock. Take all of it down your throat. I want to - shit - want to lick your ass and your pussy. Make you soak my face.”

The groan you give is dirty, imagining smothering him in your pussy and him begging for more. “Good boy.” You purr, wondering how he works react to that.

Holy shit. He nearly cums from that. “Yes ma’am.” He whines, “wanna- wanna be a good boy for you.” He whimpers, squeezing his cock again. “Can I - can I - can I pump my cock, ma’am?”

“Yes you can.” You agree, enjoying the submissiveness of your boss. “But don’t cum, I don’t want you to cum just yet. Can you do that for me, my good boy?”

“Yes.” He nods against the phone, “I promise. I- I won’t cum.” He groans low as he pumps his cock, “ma’am. I wanna - I won’t cum but tell me - what are you doing?” He asks, his voice a little desperate.

“Sitting in my chair, legs spread wide on the arms and rubbing my clit.” You whimper. “Imagining you on your knees with a cock ring on your hard cock while you eat me out until I let you fuck me.”

“Jesus Christ yes. I- I have a cock ring. Don’t get to use it too often.” He confesses, “I’d make you cum. Over and over again.” He promises, “until you let me fuck you.”

“I know you would, you’re a good boy.” You giggle, enjoying the power you weld over him. “If you cum, you would be punished, you know that right? I would spank your ass and you couldn’t fuck me.”

“Oh my God.” Dieter groans, never experiencing this before. Every lover he’s had wanted him to be in control. And he does like that but he loves feeling out of control. He’s just never found a lover he trusts enough to let go of the dominance. He loves hearing you talk about this. It’s safe and yet he can indulge. “Baby. Oh ma’am. I’m a good boy. I promise.” He assures you, “I want to fuck you. You’ll let me fuck you?”

“Yes.” You hum. “But you would have to listen to me. If you didn’t, I would tie you to the bed and ride your cock while you have the cock ring on.” You warn him. “Not let you cum while I cum over and over on your cock.”

"You say that like it's a punishment." He jokes softly despite the rasp in his voice from his arousal. He spits into his hand, squeezing the head of his cock and his hand drags his foreskin down, having him release a moan at the way he imagines being denied like that.

You snort and shake your head. “Then what would be punishment for you?” You ask, curious to hear more of those deep fantasies of his come out. He’s jerking off now. The slick sounds coming through the phone.

"Slapping me. Edging me. Fuck, I want - I want you to deny me but I want to feel your mark on me. Dig your nails into my skin." He begs, knowing that he can never have hickies or marks on his skin due to the nature of his work.

You groan quietly, aware that his manager and whatever director he was working with at the time would be pissed but it’s a sexy image, having Dieter wear your marks on his skin. “You want that? Mark you up, make you remember me?”

“Yesss.” Dieter hisses, “want to remember you. Want to see your marks on my skin long after I leave your bed. I want to feel you. In every way.” Dieter groans and twists his wrist, pumping his cock a little faster.

“You would baby.” You promise him. “I’d suck hickies into your neck and score my nails down your back.” You grin when you hear him whimper. “Does it feel good baby? Is your cock getting harder? Does it ache?”

"Fuck. It does. It's - I need - can I cum? Please ma'am. Can I cum?" He begs, needing to orgasm and it's almost painful to touch his cock but he keeps pumping himself, needing that release.

You want to deny him, to draw it out, but you decide to be nice. “You can cum baby.” He tells you. “Cum for me, baby boy.”

“Yes. Yes. Fuck. Baby. Oh shit.” He pants, eyes clenched as he pumps his coco frantically, hot cum spurting across his sheets and across his chest. He lets out an almost inhuman sound as he orgasms.

You listen to him through the phone, feeling your cunt clench at how sexy it sounds. There’s something so wrong about this, but you also love it. Love the power you hold even if he doesn’t know it’s you. “Good boy, fuck, work out every drop.”

He wrings himself dry, cum drying on his skin and sheets as he closes his eyes, nearly dropping the phone from how hard he cums. God, he's addicted to this. To hearing you. To wanting you. "Fuck, I - I think I fuckin' - I nearly blacked out." He reveals with a soft chuckle.

You giggle quietly and hum. “That good, baby?” You ask softly, knowing he will be ending the call soon but he’s already spent three times the normal amount of time on the phone.

“So good.” He murmurs, lust drunk on you as he keeps his eyes closed, enjoying the sound of your voice. “I- I wanna stay on the phone with you all night. Let me - let me just listen to you.” He pleads, wanting to feel connected to you.

“You want to listen to me?” You ask, surprised by the request. “I had planned on taking a bath.” Your apartment might be a tiny hole in the wall, but it has a bathtub. “Are you sure you want to listen to that?”

“Yeah. I wanna listen. Talk to you when you want. I- I want to feel like I have someone nearby. I get lonely.” He confesses, opening his eyes and looking out at his vast pool deck. His home is one that many would kill for but it feels so hollow to him.

“Oh.” Your frown is soft and sad. You hate that he feels lonely. “Do you have any friends? Family? You talked about missing your family yesterday.”

Dieter scoffs, “my family- they only want to know me now to pay for their shit. My friends? They aren’t friends. They want me because of the connections I have. The things I can buy. They aren’t real friends. If I lost everything, none of them would even think twice about me.”

You know that the people he hangs out with are shallow and that’s true. If he wasn’t rich and famous, they would move onto someone else. “That’s not fair.” You tell him honestly. “People deserve to be appreciated for who they are, not what they can do for you.”

Dieter sighs, “a symptom of the industry I'm in.” He says without remembering what he told you he does. He doesn’t care now, too relaxed and enamored with you to truly care if you know the truth about him. “What about you? Do you have friends? Family?”

“I- I don’t really talk to my parents.” You admit quietly. “They are….ridged and it has to be their way or they threaten to disown you.” You snort, reminding yourself that you had basically told them ‘good’ the last time they threatened you and packed your shit and left. It was Christmas two years ago when you started working for Dieter. You had spoken to them twice since then.

“Sounds like bullshit. Why do parents think they can control us so much?” He scoffs, “using us to fulfill the dreams they were too shit scared to ever go for. It’s ridiculous. Not that I would ever have the chance to be a father but if I did, I would never allow them to live their life according to my desires. It’s not - I want my kid or kids to be happy. That’s all that would matter.”

“You want kids?” You zero in on that. “How many would you want? Boy or a girl? I’ve always been the type that’s wanted one of each, maybe a set of twins.”

“Twins? That would be - God. One of each. I want to feel important to someone. Kids - they don’t care about your previous sins. They love you regardless and you get a chance to be a better parent than your parents were to you. I desperately want to redeem myself somehow. I want one of each.” Dieter decides even though he can’t keep a relationship to save his life.

Dieter with kids would be a sight to see. He would either love it or hate it. You could kind of see him becoming obsessed with the kids if you were honest. “One of each.” You hum in agreement. “Teach your son to be a gentleman and your daughter to not take shit from anyone. Love them unconditionally.”

Dieter smiles against the phone, “exactly. I want my children to have a better life, be more mentally stable.” He snorts and knows he needs to talk to his therapist next week. “Are you gonna get into the bath?” Dieter asks, grabbing the wipes he keeps in his nightstand to clean himself up.

“Yes.” You stand up and move towards your bathroom, snagging your headphones so you can charge your phone. “I feel like soaking in a bath after today. Too bad I don’t have some wine to drink, or someone to share it with.”

“I’d love to get in the bath with you, baby.” Dieter says, cleaning up and he tosses the wipes aside onto his nightstand. “I’d get you some wine. Rub your feet. Rub your shoulders.” He promises, imagining relaxing completely like that.

“Do you have a big bathtub?” You giggle. “We would be squeezed tight in mine.” You admit. “Sometimes it barely fits me when there’s bubbles.”

“I have a big bathtub.” He brags playfully, “you could ride my cock in that bathtub and still have enough room to relax after.” He smirks, “we could have wine and order take out. I’ve never really had a homey relationship like it. It’s always been clubs and fancy restaurants. I want movies on the sofa and takeouts.”

“You should. You deserve to have the kind of relationship you want.” You tell him adamantly as you start the water to warm up. “Honestly? I hate going out to clubs. My boss loves them and I just have to fend off creepy, drunk men and it’s too loud. You can’t talk to anyone there. You have to shout your order to the waitress.” You admit. “Plus, you could always cook together. Make dinner together? I would love to have a relationship like that.”

“That sounds like a dream but it’s not in the cards for me. I’ve made my bed. Now I gotta lie in it.” He sighs and rubs his cheek, “I hate clubs. I pretend to love them because everyone else does and yeah, at some point I loved going to the club but that stopped like ten years ago. I’m too old for that shit now.”

“You can change anything you don’t like.” You put in your ear buds and start to strip down, testing the water with your toe before stepping into the bath. “You aren’t at a nightclub tonight. Why don’t you go run a bath too and we can take one together?”

Dieter is tempted. “Sure. Let me go run the bath.” He shuffles out of bed and groans at the pinch in his back. Maybe a bath is a good idea considering how his back has been today. Filming isn’t as easy as it used to be and he is struggling after filming for weeks on end. He pours some bubble bath his ex left there when she would use the bath while he worked and he groans when he’s finally sinking into the water.

“That feels good, baby?” You hear the splashing and the groaning as he gets into the tub. “A hot bath is always good at the end of a long day. The one good thing about traveling with my boss is the rooms booked for me always have a big tub.”

“Well that’s a plus. He sounds like a fucking dick apart from that.” Dieter snorts and leans his head back against the edge. “I- I really want to meet you.” He confesses after you go silent, “like…not tomorrow or next week, but at some point.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Daniel.” You use the name he gave you on purpose, reminding him that he’s keeping something from you too. “I’m afraid we won't live up to each other’s expectations. Maybe one day.”

He bites his lip, knowing it was a stupid idea. He’s lied to you about who he is. “Yeah. You’re right. I, uh, I think it’s best we keep it like this.” He says after clearing his throat. “You came earlier, right?” He asks, wanting to make sure you enjoyed yourself too.

You relax, happy that he’s seeking reason and lean back on the lip of the tub to soak. “I actually didn’t.” You reveal softly. “I was wrapped up in listening to you and stopped touching myself. I enjoyed it though.”

"I want you to cum." Dieter whines, "I want you to cum for me. You always sound so sweet when you cum." He coos, "I wish I could suck on your tits, I want to lick that sweet pussy. I know you are so fucking sweet. Like candy. I'd spend hours between your thighs."

You’ve never actually cum with Dieter on the phone but you slip your hands between your thighs. “You would? You would spend all day licking my pussy if I told you to?” You ask, starting to circle your clit with your fingers, moaning quietly. “Bite my tits? I like a little pain too.”

"I'd do whatever you want. I'd be yours." He promises, "are you touching that cute little clit for me?" Dieter asks and he smirks when you breathlessly reply "yes." 

He groans softly, "good. Squeeze your tit, want you to pinch your nipple and imagine it's me."

You follow his order, finding you getting wetter when he’s talking to you with a low, raspy voice. “Fuck.” You whimper, rolling your nipple between your fingers.

“That’s it, baby. Keep going baby. Pinch it again.” He orders. Your whimper goes straight to his cock but he’s too old to get hard again so soon. “Now…I want you to slide your hand down to your pussy, find your clit and rub around it. Don’t touch it.” He orders, wanting to control your pleasure like you controlled his.

You whine, pulling your fingers from the bundle of nerves and rubbing around it like he had ordered you. Finding this dominating side of him just as sexy as the submissive side. “It’s so good baby, I bet you have thick fingers. Would you push them inside me?” You ask breathlessly.

“Yes. God, I’d push one in just to see how tight you are then I’d add another. Wanting to stretch you out to take my cock after. I want you to touch your clit now. Tell me how it feels.” He commands, the water sloshing around him.

You gasp when you press your fingers back against your clit. “So good, it’s- my stomach is tightening up. I can feel it building up inside me, taking my breath away.” You explain.

“That’s it. Good girl. I want you to cum for me. So rub that little clit. You have a hand free? Use that to push two fingers into that tight pussy. Want you to make yourself cum for me.”

“Fuck D-Daniel.” You had almost called hun Dieter but you caught yourself. Obeying him and whimpering when you slide two fingers deep and curl them up. “I’m gonna cum.” You ramble. “Can I? Can I c-cum?”

“Yes. Cum for me baby. Wanna hear you when you cum.” He orders, wanting to hear you and his cock twitches in interest. “Cum for me, Kitty.” He demands, wishing you could moan his actual name.

Your mouth drops open and you let out a long and breathless moan as you start to cum. Water splashing and your body jerking as your cunt clenches down around your fingers and pleasure courses through your body. Wondering if it is more intense because it’s your boss or because you are giving up control. Working yourself through it while Dieter pants on the other end of the phone until you slump down against the back of the tub.

Dieter listens to your orgasm and he thinks that's the prettiest sound he has ever heard. He groans softly, his cock interested and he murmurs, "that's it. Good girl. Good girl. Love to hear this. Wanna hear it all the time."

“God.” You pant, giggling drunkenly from the pleasure. “It’s been a long time since I’ve cum that hard.” You admit. “I was wearing out my wand trying to get that feeling. So thank you.”

Dieter is proud to say the least and he recognizes that you could be bullshitting him but he likes to hear it regardless. “I’m glad I could be of service.” He says teasingly. “You sound so sexy when you cum.” He says softly, “I wanna hear it again and again.”

“Glad you think so.” You smile and sink a little lower into the hot water. “Now that we are both relaxed, why don’t you tell me something? It could be anything. I don’t mind.”

Dieter thinks for a moment, humming to himself. “I - I would really love a dog. I used to have one when I was a young kid and I would love another one, but I’m always traveling and it wouldn’t be fair to make a dog wait around for me when they should be loved and cared for. Plus I think my assistant would have a cow having to look after a dog too.”

“Have you talked to her? I’m assuming your assistant is female. See what she thinks about a dog.” You personally would love to have a dog around, maybe it would help Dieter’s attitude. “Would you want a big one? There are small ones that fit in a bag. It would be easy to travel with that.”

Dieter hums, imagining his assistant handling a dog. “I guess I could ask her and see if she’s okay with it before I go to a shelter. I want to connect with the dog. Big or small…I’ll know when I meet them.” Dieter says with confidence, suddenly spurred on to get a dog.

“Is- is your assistant nice?” You ask, unsure if you really want to hear what he thinks about you but it’s an opportunity you can’t pass up. “Does she take care of you?”

“She does. She - I don’t appreciate her enough.” He confesses, “she’s - she’s incredible and she puts up with my demanding ass. I should buy her something nice to thank her. I take her for granted and I guess - it’s because I’m so focused on my job, it’s intense and it takes a lot out of me so figuring out where my meal comes from is the last thing I want to think about.”

“I can understand that, but I’m sure she knows what you like. Just like I know what my boss will eat out of every type of cuisine. Why don’t you let her take over?” You suggest. “Just tell her that you’re craving Chinese or Indian and let her take care of you.”

"Yeah. I have always been a control freak. I like things a certain way and I- I know I am harsh on her. I'm gonna try and change my ways a little." He sighs, shifting so the water splashes over the side of the tube.

At least he’s not been doing it on purpose. You can see that now. You hun and nod even though he can’t see it. “That’s okay. Just try talking to her. Tell her that you appreciate her. I wish my boss would acknowledge a fraction of what I do.”

"I'll talk to her." He promises you, "God, you are - I wish I could meet you. I bet you're gorgeous, huh? I bet you have men lining up to kneel before you." Dieter says, suddenly changing the subject.

“Oh yeah.” You droll sarcastically. “Lining up. I’ve had some men ask me out, but I’m often too busy.” You admit, Dieter often has you running errands all day after he gets done shooting. Especially when it’s on location.

“You gotta make more time for yourself.” Dieter shakes his head, the water getting colder. “We better get out of the bath.” He says, “mine is getting cold and I don’t want you getting sick.”

You want to tell him that you don’t actually get sick from cold water but it’s sweet that he cares. “Okay.” You agree, sloshing water as you stand up and reach for your towel. “What’s your nighttime routine?”

Dieter chuckles, “depends on how sober I am.” He confesses, “i get all these creams and shit so I try to use them but sometimes I forget. I am getting old and wrinkly.” He jokes, “and then I get into bed and read my - read my book to prepare for the next day.”

Reading is a surprise. You didn’t know that, you never see books beyond the pretentious ones his decorator set out. “What are you reading?” You’re interested to see what Dieter likes to read before he goes to bed. What calms him down.

"It depends on my mood. Sometimes I like a thriller. Other times I like science fiction. Right now, I'm reading The Martian. It's relaxing and I enjoy escaping into a different world." He explains, part of why he loves acting is so he can escape from himself.

“Oh I’ve read that. It’s a really good book.” You tell him with a smile on your face. “Sometimes I read on my phone when my boss is busy. When I’m not writing.”

Dieter smiles, “maybe we can form our own book club.” He says as he puts his phone on speaker to dry off after he steps out of his bath and pulls on a pair of boxers after he’s cleaned up. “I’m gonna brush my teeth.” He says, letting you hear him run the water and brush his teeth.

You rub your lotion into your face and smile. “I’ll brush my teeth too.” It’s domestic, and homey. “Don’t forget to floss.” You tease playfully.

“Never.” Dieter chuckles after he rinses and grabs his waterpik, he actually likes his teeth after enduring braces as a teenager. They are perfect and he is happy to have some part of him be perfect in the movie industry.

The next few minutes are spent relatively quiet, both of you brushing and flossing until you are satisfied with the results. “Nothing feels better than climbing into bed all clean, unless it’s to also climb into clean sheets.” You tell him, walking out of your bathroom and into your tiny bedroom.

“Ooo yes. I love when my housekeeper changes the sheets and it’s all snuggly.” He confesses and he groans as he slides into bed and turns the light off. “I guess you gotta get some sleep, huh?” Dieter asks, pouting slightly as he lays in bed in the dark.

“I do. My boss has to be up really early and he is an ass if I’m not there with his coffee.” You tell him, swapping coffee for tea when you are describing him to himself. “He made one barista cry because she didn’t have the kind of drink he wanted.”

“Jesus. He sounds like an absolute dick. I’ll let you go baby. Speak tomorrow?” He asks and you hum, “yes of course.” 

Dieter smiles, “sleep well, Kitty Kat.” He grins against the phone.

 “Sleep tight.” You respond and he chuckles as the line goes dead. He’s spent a crazy amount of money tonight on the call but he’s never felt happier, more relaxed, and comfortable. He dreams of meeting Kitty when he eventually falls asleep.

**** 

It’s been weeks since you’ve started talking to Dieter every night, and you are grateful for it. It’s the only way that you are making any headway in the money to owe. It still amazes you that he still hasn’t recognized your voice, although he has been more considerate. “Maury!” You huff, rolling your eyes when Dieter’s older dog he had adopted head butts your leg. “You want to go out, boy?” You ask him with a smile on your face as you reach for his leash.

The dog pants as you leash him and Dieter walks into his trailer, bending down to greet the dog. “Hey boy. You okay in here while I’m gone?” He asks as the dog licks his face and he chuckles, letting him. “I know, buddy. We will be leaving soon, okay? I gotta shower while you’re on your walk then we will pick up some tacos on the way home.” He promises and rubs his head. Dieter looks up at you, “you, uh, wanna grab tacos? My treat?” He asks, knowing he has to be better to you. Kitty would want him to be nicer to you.

Your eyes widen slightly and you nod. “Uh, sure, if you’re serious.” You tell him. “I’ll take Maury on his walk.” The fact that you’ve started falling for Dieter is solely because of the nightly conversations you have. “If you don’t have plans for tonight that it would interfere with?”

Dieter shakes his head, “no. I don’t have plans.” He had told his PR he wanted a break from the fake dating and they had conceded. “See you after and we will go to that place with the outdoor seating so we can bring Maury.” He says, knowing that the outdoor section is secluded and he won’t be disturbed by paps there.

“Sure.” You guide Maury out the door and try not to imagine your boss in his shower. You are slightly addicted to the conversations you have and wonder if he’s going to call you tonight once you leave.

Dieter is quick to clean up and redress in his sweats. He loves to wear shitty clothes to piss off the paps if they capture him so he is soon grabbing his backpack and you are following him and Maury to the taco place in your car. He wants to call Kitty tonight, tell her how much nicer he’s trying to be since she told him to attempt to be good to his assistant.

“Thank you.” You murmur quietly. “This is very sweet of you.” You acknowledge with a smile as you kneel down to pat Maury. “Do you want some tacos, boy? I hear they have a sweet potato taco on the menu now, specifically for your dog.”

Dieter lights up at that, “really? Damn, Mau, looks like it’s tacos for all.” He says and opens the door to his car so Maury can jump in. “Meet you there?” Dieter asks, knowing you know his favorite taco shop. It’s nothing fancy and that’s what he loves. It’s normal.

“Sure can.” You nod and walk over to your older car and climb inside. You crank it up and wait for Dieter to pull out. Impressed that he’s not still driving like a maniac like he normally does when he’s doing a lot of drugs.

Dieter taps his fingers to the song playing on the radio and for once, he feels happy. He hasn’t been taking as many drugs. Honestly not wanting to be high when he speaks to Kitty so he’s calmed it down to only when he’s super anxious or needs to sleep. He glances in the mirror at you following him in that piece of shit car you own and he wonders if he should offer to help you out to get a newer car. He doesn’t want something to happen to you. For some reason, he’s grown closer to you since he’s started talking to Kitty and he finds himself imagining what you’d taste like if he were to kiss you. Absolutely insane when he’s pretty sure he’s falling in love with Kitty but he feels a connection to you he can’t explain. He’d never risk it, you’re an amazing assistant and he can’t lose you. He knows that now. When he pulls into the parking lot, he cuts the engine to his car and gets out, grabbing Maury who is wagging his tail and Dieter chuckles, “come on boy. Taco time.”

You find a parking spot and cut your engine, sure that you heard a knocking sound and praying that it wasn’t going to be something expensive. You have a neighbor that is always offering to look at it, maybe you’ll take him up on it. You smile when you see Maury excited and Dieter waiting for you. “Tacos and maybe a beer. God, I could use one.” You joke.

“Beer sounds good.” Dieter nods, guiding you to one of the outside tables. “What do you want?” He asks after he hands you a menu once you’re seated and settled, Maury laying down at your feet under the table. The waitress comes over and Dieter orders two beers and some water for Maury. “I was thinking…your car is literally gonna die any moment. Can I help you? Like…give you some money or something so you can get something else?”

You bite your lip, wanting so badly to take Dieter up on his offer. You need another car but you also know that most offers for help, especially giving money comes with stipulations. “I don’t know.” You shake your head. “I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” You tell him. “You have enough people doing that.”

Dieter shakes his head, “I can help. I want to help. You can’t be driving around in that. It will be a death trap and I- Kitty, please let me help you.” He says without even thinking about it.

Your heart drops and for an instant, you think that he’s figured out that it’s you on the phone. You barely keep yourself from gasping but you manage to frown. “Kitty?” You ask, trying to seem curious rather than panicked. “Is that some kind of new nickname, Dieter?” You shake your head. “I appreciate the offer but I can’t take your money. I can’t pay you back.”

Dieter's eyes widen, unable to believe he called you that. It was a mistake and one he desperately wants to take back. You aren't Kitty, you are his assistant and just because he might have melded the two of you together one night when he was smoking weed doesn't mean you're the same person. He swallows, "I, uh, sorry. Thought I saw a cat." He gestures over to the empty space but Maury hates cats and usually barks his head off. You frown but he reaches out to touch your hand, "I know I have been an asshole but I want to be better. I want to help."

You bite your lip, looking into his eyes and are startled by how much he has changed since you’ve been talking to him on the phone. “Okay.” You relent with a sigh. “Maybe we can find a cheap used car? And I’ll pay you back every week. It might take me a million years, but I will.” You promise.

Dieter nods, “pick what you want. I - I don’t care about the budget. As long as it’s safe and works. I don’t want you breaking down on the side of the road and something happening to you.” Dieter says softly until he clears his throat, “It’s too much fucking hassle to find a good assistant nowadays.” He says, pulling down the blinds on his emotions as the waitress brings your beers.

You chuckle quietly, used to the offhanded comments that completely takes the sweetness out of whatever he has just done. Self sabotaging is what his therapist had told him. “And I’m the best.” You tease, picking up your beer and holding it up in salute before taking a sip.

Dieter can't argue there. He sets the water down for Maury and picks up his beer, "you are the best." He admits softly, his stomach twisting with an unknown emotion and he clears his throat when the waitress comes over to take your orders.

You order your tacos, grinning when Maury’s taco order is put in and then Dieter orders a plate very similar to yours. “When you wanted me to come here, I fell in love with the food.” You admit. “It’s tiny but it’s amazing.”

“Right? And it’s private. Probably my favorite part about it is that I don’t get bothered by paps or fans.” He confesses, “and it doesn’t hurt that the food is fucking incredible.” He winks, “how’s everything in your - your personal life?” Dieter asks, wanting to try and be more interactive with you like Kitty suggested.

“Nothing much.” You shrug vaguely. “Most nights I’m busy. I got another job.” You tell him. “One that won’t interfere with my job with you.” You add, not wanting him to think you would slack off. “Just been trying to focus on the future.”

Dieter hates to hear that you’ve gotten another job. “Why - why do you have another job? Am I not paying you enough?” He asks, concerned that you’re doing too much. He doesn’t want you to be worn out by working too hard.

You’ve talked to Dieter about your money issues as Kitty so you shake your head. “I’m bored at night. When we travel so much and have such odd hours, I can’t really have a social life. So I figured I could earn extra money to put away.”

Dieter leans back, taking in your answer, and he sighs. “I’m sorry. I guess I don’t think about your social life. I- I can be a dick. A selfish dick and I’m sorry that you don’t have a social life because of me.” He mumbles, his gaze cutting across the street.

“Don’t worry about that.” The need to comfort him makes you reach across the table and touch his hand. Something you wouldn’t have dreamed of doing a few months ago. “We have busy lives and I knew that when I came to work for you.”

Dieter turns his brown eyes back to yours, “I know. I- I don’t think I can keep doing this forever. It’s lonely. Not knowing who your real friends are. Not having a family. It’s, uh, it’s wearing me down now.” He confesses, squeezing your hand as he takes it in his.

“You are a talented, handsome and charming man.” You remind him. “If you want to have a family, there is someone out there that would be thrilled to make that commitment to you.” You promise, wishing you could tell him that you’ve been falling in love with him when you talk to him as Kitty. “They’d be crazy not to.”

Dieter snorts, “you can barely stand me. Imagine a partner? They’d kick me to the curb after I have to cancel too many dates because of last minute reshoots. Or someone who can’t sit by and watch me film sex scenes even though they are literally the least sexy thing ever. I can’t be dealing with that drama on top of everything else.” He sighs, shaking his head.

You hate that he’s pulled away, his hand slipping from yours as he wallows in self pity. “Your job is demanding and important. While yes, you have been a dick, you’ve been getting better. If someone couldn’t handle the scheduling and the sex scenes, they don’t deserve to be with you and reap the benefits of the career you’ve created.” You argue. “Get someone who doesn’t give a shit that you are ‘Dieter Bravo, Oscar winner”. Find someone who wants you, the man, not the fucking PR campaign.”

Dieter swallows harshly, knowing your words are pretty but his life is too ugly for most to understand, let alone see the real him. The insecure mess that has to console himself with drugs to just endure the day. “When you find that someone, let me know.” He chuckles softly, picking up his beer to take a long swig.

“Sure will.” You tell him, flashing him a grin even though you feel like crying. “Don’t complain when I remind you about this on your wedding day.”

Dieter snorts, “now that would be a fucking result.” He thinks about Kitty for a moment until the waitress comes over and sets your plates down. “Two taco plates and I’ll be back with the plate for the fur baby. You two make a super cute couple by the way.” She comments with a smile and strides off.

You stifle a giggled watching as Dieter seems to have some kind of internal struggle with how he should react to the compliment. “Don’t worry.” You reach for the bottle of hot sauce on the table. “I won’t read into it, or start calling you baby, slipping into your bed or anything.”

The way you say ‘baby’ itches his brain and he’s so sure he’s heard that before. It sounds so familiar. Part of him wants to say he wants you to slip into bed but he swallows that down. He lets out an awkward chuckle and picks up his taco, wanting to eat instead. The waitress brings the tacos for Maury and sets them down so the dog can dig in too.

“Good boy, Maury.” You coo as the older dog tears into the tacos. “Sweet potatoes are good for you.” You praise, picking up one of your own tacos to take a bite of it. “I’m so glad you got Maury. He’s such a sweetheart as it seems like you really love having him around.”

The “good boy” coming from your lips makes his cock twitch but he shoves that aside and murmurs “I love having him. He’s - he is the best.” Dieter smiles at the dog and goes back to his meal. “I’ll get this.” Dieter insists when the check comes up, “the least I can do. And seriously, look into another car. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Remember I need my job.” You smile, watching Dieter pay for dinner and you turn your attention back to Maury. “I promise I will start looking.” you tell him. “See what is out there.”

Dieter nods, satisfied with your answer, and he finishes his beer. “I’m sure you wanna get home. We have a long day tomorrow.” He says, standing up and bending down to pick up Maury’s lead.

“We do.” You know that you shouldn’t pry but you need to. “What are you going to do when you get home?” You ask curiously.

“I, uh, usually read my script for the next day and then I make some calls.” He says nonchalantly and as vaguely as possible. He wants to call Kitty as soon as he’s home, tell her about his day and how he’s trying to be a better person.

“That’s good. At least you have a plan.” You walk with him out of the tiny restaurant and towards your cars. “Well, I'm going to go home, you call me if you need anything, okay boss?”

Dieter nods, “thanks for having dinner with me.” He says and you offer him a smile that makes his stomach twist. “Of course.” He murmurs and guides Maury over to his car. He waits until you are in yours before he leaves. 

**** 

“Hey, Kitty Cat.” Dieter smiles when you pick up the phone, “how’s your day been?” He is always excited to hear your voice and listen to you.

“Hey baby.” You purr into the phone, feeling buoyed by your time off the phone with Dieter. “My day has been good, but it’s better now. How has yours been? Still enjoying taking Maury for walks after work?”

“Yes. I love taking him out on walks. He’s such a good boy.” He grins, loving how the dog he found in the shelter and he knows Kitty played a big part in him finding his dog. “I missed talking to you today.”

“Yeah? What did you want to talk to me about, baby?” You ask, grinning slightly because he has been talking to you, he just didn’t realize it was his Kitty. “Did something bad happen?”

“No. No. I just miss hearing your voice.” He smiles against the phone. He dreads to think about how much he’s spent on these calls but he knows that every penny helps Kitty out and he doesn’t begrudge that at all.

“You are always so sweet.” You tell him softly. “I don’t know why you keep calling yourself an asshole.” One thing that you’ve learned from these conversations is that Dieter has a horrible self image. He thinks the worst about himself in almost every sense and the bravado he puts on is just that, an act. “I’ve been thinking about you. How was your day?”

“It was good. I am getting closer to being done with my latest project at work and I’m working on building better relationships. I took my assistant to have tacos after we finished work. With Maury. It was fun. She - she’s so good at her job. I feel so guilty for not treating her properly for so long.”

“I’m so glad you had fun.” You tell him honestly, feeling like he’s not just telling you that. “Developing relationships with the people you work closely with is important, not just your ‘important’ people.” You remind him.

“I know. I know. I’m working on it.” Dieter sighs, rubbing his cheek, “I know I gotta work on being a better person.” He huffs, “trying my best but it never feels like it’s enough.”

“I’m sure that it’s enough.” You assure him. “You are a wonderful man, and I know that if you are trying to change bad habits, it’s being noticed.” You don’t want to dwell on it for too long. “So you had tacos? Do you have a favorite place?”

“Yeah. There’s this place. God, it’s over on Adams. It’s so good. They have this really nice outdoor area and it’s good for Maury because they have sweet potato tacos. Apparently they are good for him.”

“Oh that’s fantastic!” You hum excitedly while you sort through your mail. Grimacing at the bills. “I’ve heard they are. Something about making their coat healthy, I think.” You tell him. “Even better, he got to join you for dinner. I bet he loved it. How is your assistant liking Maury?”

“She loves him too. He’s really brought us together. She takes him out while I’m filming. I like to take him with me to my trailer. I don’t want him getting lonely while I’m working and I don’t want to leave him at home.” He explains not realizing he slipped up and told you about his real work, “what did you have for dinner?”

“Oh, I had some leftovers from dinner last night.” You lie. You hate doing it, but you can’t have too many coincidences. “I wish I had tacos. I love tacos.”

“I can buy you all the tacos you want.” Dieter blurts out, “I, uh, I mean, I want to buy you all the tacos you want. How’s work going? Is your boss being nicer?” Dieter asks, shifting from his spot on the sofa

“He’s getting better.” You sigh. “Although I don’t know if it’s going to last. He can change his colors like he changes his socks.” You laugh. “So you’re almost done with your work project? I bet you’re excited.”

“Yeah but then I have to go away for a press - pressing matter. I’ll be gone for a few weeks.” He nearly messes up and says press junket. With a sigh, he slumps down on his bed, Maury already snoring in his bed across the room.

“Oh, I hope nothing is wrong.” You offer, letting him slide on that little slip up. You know he’s trying to keep his profession a secret from Kitty. “If there is anything I can do, you let me know?”

“Yeah I will. I- I just want to hear your voice. You always sound so sweet. I bet you taste sweet too.” He says without really thinking. “I wanna taste you, Kitty Cat.”

"Ohhhh someone's horny tonight?" You hum, smiling against the phone. You know that Dieter hasn't been out with his PR date for a while and you've not had to call Uber for the random strangers that he could pick up and bring home when he's left to his own devices, so he's just not been getting any. Unless you count his hand. "Would you duck under the table and lick my pussy for me?"

Dieter groans, “yes. I’d risk it. Just to taste you. Get down under the table and spread your legs. Lick that sweet little pussy until your hand slams down on the table because you’re trying to keep quiet. Fuck, I’d do it. For you, I’d do anything.” He confesses, his cock hardening at the thought of touching you, tasting you.

You moan quietly, imagining Dieter Bravo sliding under a table in public and using his tongue on you. He is brazen enough to do it. “It would be so hard to keep quiet, I just know it.” You tell him breathlessly. “And I would do the same for you. Get down on my knees and suck your cock while you read. See how much you remember when my tongue is swirling around your cock and sucking on it.”

“When was the last time you had a slow, gentle blow job?” You ask, curious about his once vigorous sex life. “Someone taking their time and just drawing it out while you moan and relax. Maybe rubbing your puckered hole and fingering you while swallowing around you.”

“Jesus Christ.” Dieter hisses, “I don’t - I don’t remember. Usually it’s quick and urgent because I - I want to get to sex. God that sounds so good. You’d do that for me?” He asks breathlessly.

“Yes.” You promise him. “No matter how much you beg me to sit on your cock or let you fuck me, I’ll take my time. Slowly make you cum down my throat until you are slumped into your chair and unable to move, you are so relaxed.”

“Shit. You’re too good to me. After you make me cum, I’d want you to sit on my face. Use me to orgasm over and over. Wanna hear those pretty moans as you rock down onto my chin while I tongue fuck you.” He groans, “wanna taste you.”

“Fuck.” You feel yourself getting wet and your hand slides down to unbutton your jeans. “After I rode your face, would you want me to ride your cock? Or would you want to fuck me?”

“God, baby.” He groans, unable to help himself as he reaches down to squeeze himself through his boxers. “I want you to ride me. Want you to make yourself cum over and over again. I want you to deny me so you can get as much pleasure as you want. As you need.”

You wish he would let you ride him. Your attraction to Dieter has become almost painful and every night you think of him while you use your vibrator. “Yeah, baby? You’ll be my good boy and let me use that cock? Cum all over it until you are soaked with my cum?”

“Yes. Yes. I’ll be your good boy.” He promises, “I want to be your good boy.” He wraps his fingers around his aching cock. “Are you touching yourself, pretty girl?” He asks.

You whimper, sliding two fingers inside your wet cunt. “Yes.” You confess. “Are you stroking your cock? Thinking of me?”

“Yes. So hard. Pre-cum is literally leaking out of me. I think you’re so hot. So fucking hot.” He hisses when he squeezes his cock and starts to pump himself. “So fucking beautiful. I know you are. I know you’d look so pretty sitting on my cock. I wanna feel it. I wanna see it.” He whines with desperation.

“One day.” You feel so guilty when he talks of needing to meet you. Knowing that he is with you everyday and yet he is just now starting to get to know the real you. He would be so disappointed by the ruination of his fantasy girl. “Close your eyes and imagine me riding your cock baby.” You coo. “Tits bouncing and cunt tight around you.”

Dieter groans, closing his eyes like you asked and he sees his assistant. Mouth opening and moaning his name as she rides his cock. Fuck, he can see it. Can touch her. “Fuck, so pretty. I wanna - wanna see you cum.” He pants, speaking to his assistant, imagining her instead of Kitty. He knows it’s a lot to process, his feelings for both women, but he finds himself merging them together in instances like this.

“Oh fuck…” your fingers curl deep and you pant slightly when you find that spot deep inside you. “I’m going to baby, you’re gonna make me cum.” Any guilt you have at masturbating with Dieter on the phone has been left behind, enjoying yourself with him on the phone is what he wants. “My fingers aren’t as good as your cock. I bet your cock will make me scream.”

“Yes. Yes. God, I’d make you scream so loud the neighbors will call the police. I’d want you to soak my cock.” He pants, pumping his fist even harder, pulling down the foreskin to swipe the head with every move and he’s so close.

You moan nearly saying his real name but you just manage to cut yourself off. “Deee.” You pant, breathing heavily. “I need you to make me cum baby, I need it so bad.”

“Cum for me. Rub that pretty little clit for me baby.” He coos, his eyes still closed as he imagines his pretty assistant cumming on his cock. He is so close but he wants to hear you cum first. He needs to hear it. “Cum for me baby. Cum for me.”

“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” You whine, shaking as you move to rub your clit. You’re so close it only takes a few swipes of your fingers before you are flying. “Baby!” You choke out, legs shaking as you cum.

Hearing you cum sends Dieter over the edge. 

He lets out a strangled “fuck” before he orgasms, his cum spurting across his chest and his sheets and down his fist. “Fuck.” He pants, the words he wants to say are on the tip of his tongue but he swallows them down.

You hum quietly, basking in the aftershocks. “That was good baby, did you enjoy yourself? I love when we cum so close together.”

“Me too. So good. It’s always so good.” Dieter mumbles, lost in the pleasure, and he’s telling the truth. He has never cum this hard, even during orgies or with sexual partners one on one. That voice - it just hypnotizes him and he can’t hold back.

“I’m glad you enjoy yourself baby.” You coo softly. “I like talking to you every night. It’s the highlight of my day.” You admit with a smile. Every night you go to sleep right after hanging up with Dieter. You’ve even watched tv together sometimes.

“Same here.” He murmurs, knowing there’s so much to say but it’s unlikely you feel the same way. He’s certain a big part of this is you getting paid and that makes him feel dirty but he loves speaking to you. He’s become a better person because of you. “I, uh, I better clean up.” He murmurs, frowning at the way his heart pounds.

“Do you want to take a bath together or do you want me to let you go?” You frown slightly, aware that his tone has changed and you wonder if something is wrong. “It’s up to you.”

“I better get some sleep.” He says, confused by his feelings, “I’m gonna have a quick shower and get into bed.” He murmurs, shuffling out of his bed and into the bathroom. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” He asks, his heart aching and his head throbbing with confusion.

“Of course.” You frown slightly, wondering if you need to text him as his assistant from your other phone. “You can call me anytime baby, you know that.” You remind him. “Have a good night and sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” Dieter smiles sadly against the phone. He’s fallen for the voice on the other end of the phone and he’s also fallen for his assistant. He’s torn. He knows his assistant, can touch her, but he doesn’t want to fuck up the best thing that’s happened to him with Kitty who he doubts would ever meet him in person. He’s shallow, one of his worst qualities, and he wonders if Kitty has something extremely wrong like a third leg or some weird shit like that and that’s why she won’t meet even though she’s in L.A. He sighs, head aching so he showers and finds some aspirin, passing out in his bed from emotional and mental exhaustion.

**** 

The next day, you can tell that there is something wrong with Dieter but you can’t quite figure out why. He’s quiet and subdued but you can feel his eyes on you as you go about setting his schedule and doing for him. “Is there anything else you need right now, boss?” You ask, sending him a reassuring smile as he looks up from his script. “I picked up your drying cleaning for the press junket, the outfits will look very good.”

“Great. Thanks for doing that.” Dieter offers you a small smile and he lays his script down in his lap. “Nothing else I need.” He says, “go take a break. I’m gonna take a nap, probably.” He says and you nod, reaching for your purse but you leave your backpack on the floor. After so long working with Dieter, it’s become a habit to have a second bag with essentials just in case you end up staying overnight somewhere or need a change of clothes. You leave and Dieter sighs, rubbing his cheek. He is battling within himself and he doesn’t know what to do. He sighs and reaches for his phone, deciding to dial the familiar number to see what his heart truly wants. Selecting Kitty’s number, he listens to the dial tone and he’s confused when he hears a ringtone coming from your backpack. He’s never heard that tone before. He frowns when Kitty doesn’t answer and the phone stops ringing from your bag. Deciding to try again, he’s even more confused when the ringtone sounds once again. Ever curious, he gets up and opens your bag, knowing it’s wrong but he soon locates the small flip phone. His cell hangs up and the phone stops ringing. He can’t help it. He rings again and the contact on the flip phone comes up with “Dieter/Daniel” and he feels sick. Staring at the phone as it rings, he doesn’t know what to think. You’re Kitty. This is Kitty’s phone. You’re the same person.

After getting your drink, you realize that you had forgotten your laptop. Figuring that you would sit outside at craft services and do a little writing while Dieter naps. He should be back in his bedroom in the trailer, so you will slip inside and grab it. Opening the door, and stepping inside, your eyes widen when you see Dieter holding the familiar flip phone that you use every night when you talk to him. Your heart drops and want to shrink back when he turns his eyes towards you and his expression is devastated. “Dieter, I-“

“You’re - It’s you. You’re Kitty?” He practically chokes as he stares at you in shock. “You- you’re the one I’ve been talking to every night. You didn’t - oh my God. You didn’t tell me it was you and I’ve been- shit. I- holy fuck. It’s you.” He chokes, trying to mentally piece everything together but his body feels like it’s on fire and he doesn’t know what to do.

“Dieter, I- I can explain.” You start pathetically. “I wanted to say something, to tell you, but I thought you just wanted the fantasy. That you would be upset when you found out I knew.”

Dieter shakes his head, getting angry. “Was this a fucking joke to you? ‘Oh my poor fucking boss. He can afford to pay me and also pay my sex line. And I’ll laugh at him while we talk’  I bet you were sat there trying to hold back the tears from laughing while I - while I fucking jerked off. I bet you got off the phone and had a good fucking giggle about how pathetic I am and how much you were getting from me. Am I - do I look like a fucking idiot? Is that why you did this?” He asks, tears stinging in his eyes at the betrayal.

“No.” You gasp, shaking your head. “It wasn’t like that at all. I promise you-“ 

“You fucking lied to me!” Dieters shouts, making you jump at the venom in voice. 

Your own eyes start to water. “I didn’t laugh at you.” You insist. “Our - our talks were real.”

Dieter shakes his head, stepping back from you. “You were laughing at me. I bet you thought this was some kind of revenge, huh? Make me look dumb. Get me to tell you all my fucking secrets and then you’d - what? Blackmail me? Sell it to the Enquirer or TMZ?” He chokes, feeling betrayed by the two women in his life that have turned out to be the same person.

“Never.” You promise him, shaking your head and your heart breaking. His expression is pure disgust and you want to cry. “I’d never tell anyone. I just- I started working phone sex because I needed the money. And you called and I was surprised but then I liked talking to you, I really enjoyed our calls.”

“Bullshit. I know you hate me. I know I make your life hell. Why- why would you do this?” Dieter chokes, “why would you do this to me? Why didn’t you tell me right away that it was you?”

“I was embarrassed!” You snap. “I had to take a phone sex job so I didn’t lose my apartment or ruin my credit.” Your own tears start running down your cheeks. “I was- I don’t know. I didn’t think you would want to know that the girl you were jerking off to was the same one who brought you your coffee and couldn’t possibly get your fucking lunch order right.”

Dieter shakes his head again, in complete disbelief. “I don’t give a fuck. I - you should’ve told me. I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I- I told you - I told you so many things I’ve never told anyone and you didn’t say a word.” He swears he’s about to cry but he stays strong enough to say “you’re fired. Get your shit and get the fuck out of my trailer.”

You feel like you’ve been punched in the gut, knowing you can’t afford to lose your job. Not for long. You can barely see through your tears as you grab your bag and take off the key to Dieter’s house that was on your key ring. Finally, you hold your hand out for the flip phone that is still in Dieter’s hand. “I’m sorry.” You offer quietly.

Dieter can’t talk, he slaps the phone into your hand, his brown eyes watery as he watches you and he hates losing you but the betrayal cuts him deep right now. He stares as you take the phone and he lets you walk out of the trailer, his heart breaking with every step you take.

You rush to your car, not acknowledging anyone and barely keeping it together until you get behind the wheel. Once safe, you break down, sobbing and leaning your head against the steering wheel as you cry. You don’t know what just happened but you know that Dieter hates you.

Dieter slumps down in the chair, confused and feeling betrayed by you. You concealed this information from him and he’s so hurt that you could be so deceptive. “Fuck!” He growls, reaching out and shoving everything off of the table in front of him. 

**** 

A few days pass with Dieter having to lie to his management about why he fired you. Even worse, he keeps picking up his phone to call you. He wants to call Kitty, to talk about how he feels, but Kitty is you and you are Kitty. His head still aches at the news, his heart is broken at the news that the women he fell in love with are one and the same which he should be overjoyed about but she lied. He picks up his phone for the fiftieth time and finally, he snaps. He tosses the phone so hard it hits the wall, smashing, and he pants as he stares at it until the realization hits. He rushes over to pick it up, pressing the button to turn it on. “No. No. No.” He panics. He doesn’t know your number or Kitty’s number by heart. It’s gone. His last connection to you is gone.

No one will hire you. Your eyes water when the last agency, a sketchy one, tells you that you’ve been blacklisted. Becoming an assistant for another celebrity is out of the question, Dieter went scorched earth out of spite apparently. It hurts just as bad as that first night that he didn’t call you. You had expected it. More questions, possibly a drunk former boss accusing you of leaking his secrets but the silence had hurt you even more. You sigh and shake your head. You had been hired on to work as a waitress in a diner, odd shifts that no one wanted and yet you know you need another job too. You just need to find one.

Dieter is glad the movie has finished and he may have gotten drunk at the wrap party. He had offers from people on set and from the studio to go home with him but he ended up going home alone, unable to go home with anyone after he had such a connection with Kitty/you. He gets into the car he was assigned for the evening and he orders the driver to go to your house. He gets out and rings the doorbell after he arrives and he slumps down on the doorstep when you aren’t in. He isn’t sure how long he waits there until your car pulls into the driveway.

Getting home, you sigh as you put the car into park and curse yourself for ever accepting Dieter’s help getting a new car. It’s just another crushing debt on you and despite the fact that he had fired you, you were still going to pay him back for every penny. You needed to make sure that you made it to your next shift so you could send the money to his accountant like you have been. Dieter would never know, but you would and you hadn’t even been late on a payment so far. Now you just need to get into your apartment and sleep for the next four hours so you can be up for your next job on time. Slowly climbing out of the car, you realize someone is waiting on the doorstep and you warily approach with your keys in your fist until you recognize your former boss. “Dieter!” You huff, too exhausted to even be relieved it’s not someone robbing you. “What are you doing here? Go home, I’ve got four hours of sleep to get.” You move past him to unlock your door.

Dieter stumbles as he stands up, “no. No. I won’t leave. Not until -” He hiccups, “until you tell me why- why you did it? Was it to mess with me? Or did you want to do something to fuck with my head? Or was it funny? I want to know why.” He says, waving his arms around.

“I didn’t call you, you called me, remember?” You hiss, pushing your door open and your feet are killing you. It’s late and you are exhausted. All you want to do is take your bra off and sleep for a few hours before you have to go back to work. “I was shocked when you called and I- I was curious if you were as big of a dick to everyone as you were to me.” You tell him, “happy? Now go home. I have to sleep.”

Dieter shakes his head, following you into your place and he repeats his question, “why did you do it? Keep talking to me? We - I told you things about myself that I haven’t told anyone. Why did you not - why didn’t you tell me?” He chokes, hating you and loving you all at the same time.

“Dieter-“ you turn around, ready to kick him out and fall into your bed, but his face is scrunched up and sad. Making you think of a kicked puppy. “Because I liked talking to you.” You admit with a sigh. “I- learning about you helped me understand why you were a dick. I just-“ you shake your head and your ears nearly pop when you yawn. “I told you things too, but I was afraid that you would fire me.” You snort. “And I was right. But I’m not going to tell anyone what you said or the fact that you called a phone sex line. Happy? Now please.” You motion towards the door. “I have three hours and fifty-two minutes of sleep I can get before I have to be at my next job.”

“You got another assistant job?” Dieter asks, shifting to sit down on your sofa and he looks up at you, ignoring the fact you need to get to sleep. 

“No. No. You managed to get me black listed, remember?” You scoff and Dieter frowns, “I didn’t do that. I swear. My manager must’ve done that. To protect my privacy.” He says, “and to - to stop me from bumping into you. I swear, I didn’t get you black listed.” He insists. 

“I have like three fucking jobs to stop me going bankrupt and to pay you back for the car you made me get.” 

Dieter shakes his head, “I was trying to make your life better because I- I realized how much of a dick I was and I wanted to be better for you. Because of you - you as Kitty.”

You sigh again, aware that you aren’t going to get to sleep until Dieter says what he needs to. You flop down onto your couch next to him and groan in pain, sore from the long shifts on your feet. “And I wasn’t trying to manipulate you.” You promise. “I didn’t use any information you gave me when I was working for you. I kept things separate, but it made me want to be better for you too.”

Dieter nods, knowing you are exhausted but he needs this closure. He swallows harshly, his throat suddenly dry as a dessert and he glances at you, “I love you. You know that? You as Kitty and you as you. I fucking love you.” He confesses, his eyes wide and glassy.

Your eyes close and your head tilts back against the cushions. “I love you too.” You confess with a small groan. “I fell in love with you while we were talking on the phone. I was scared. You never looked at me twice when I was me, your assistant me.”

Dieter squeezes his fists on his thighs, “I - I was so mad when I found that phone. Knowing that I’m in love with you. I was so fucking angry because I don’t do emotions. I don’t do connections. It gets messy and I was right. I can’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t - I wanted to call. So many times. I even broke my fucking phone and then I freaked out because your numbers are on that phone and I couldn’t remember them. I didn’t know them. I- I - shit. Are you the same? Was it all an act or do you really love me?” He asks, wanting an answer.

“I cried when you didn’t call.” You admit softly, rolling your head forward so you can look at him. “I- talking to you had become part of me. I would ache to talk to you, to just ramble about hopes and dreams, to listen to you. I want to tell you, so many times, but I hated that you might not want me.” You sigh heavily. “It wasn’t an act.” It wasn’t, not when you spent all night talking to him and wishing you could hold him while you slept. “I really love you, Dieter. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Baby. I-I love you.” He murmurs, “I don’t want you to work three jobs. I’ll- I’ll pay you double if you come back to me. I want to help you out. I want you by my side. Please, don’t leave me.” He pleads, reaching for your hands to squeeze them.

It sounds amazing but you shake your head. “I can’t- you already fired me once.” You remind him. “I can’t be trapped by your whims. Firing me if you get upset at me? I can’t do that.”

“I’ll have my manager put it in writing that I have to have a legitimate reason if I fired you again. I swear, I wouldn’t, I’m not that person anymore. I don’t want to lose you. I need you. I promise you that I will be better. I’ll have my manager put it in writing.” Dieter promises, not wanting to lose you.

“Dieter….” You’re too exhausted to really think about it. “I need some sleep. Either go home, or let me sleep.” You tell him. “I can’t even think right now.”

“Go shower. I’ll call Cynthia while you shower so she can get something in writing before you make your decision. I’ll make you some tea and get you a snack for you to have.” He says, completely out of his normal character but he loves you, he wants to be better.

You nod, finding that sounds amazing to not have to think. “Okay. I’ll go shower.” You moan, taking a long minute to shuffle off the couch and stand.

He watches you go and stands up to boil your kettle. He gets a good look around your place and he wrinkles his nose. He can tell you've tried to make the best of it but it's in bad condition, clearly a shitty landlord, and he feels guilty for living in a big Sherman Oaks mansion alone while you live here.

You shuffle to the bathroom, uneasy that Dieter is in your house, but you are too tired to really worry about it. stripping down and groaning at the lukewarm water that seems to be all hot water heater can produce lately. "Shit." You close your eyes and you wonder if Dieter meant what he said, if you could possibly go back to one job, maybe your phone sex job too for extra money, but not be working yourself into the ground. You wash and when you go to dress, the urge to lay down once your panties are on is overwhelming and you stretch out, immediately closing your eyes.

Dieter prepares your cup of tea and grabs a snack before he makes his way into your bedroom. His eyes widen and he nearly drops the mug in his hand when he sees you laid out on your bed topless and wearing panties. Jesus, you’re beautiful. He realizes after a moment and averts his eyes, setting the tea and snack on the dresser, then he grabs the blanket on the bed, managing to get it out from under you so he can cover you up. He doesn’t want to leave so he quickly rushes outside to tell his driver to go and then he locks up your place, making sure the front door is secure. He’s exhausted himself so he toes off his shoes and shrugs off his jacket and he wants to be close to you. It’s wrong, he should sleep on the sofa, but he makes his way into your room and lays down on the bed beside you, a good distance and a blanket away but he’s immediately comforted. He falls asleep within moments, his hand reaching for you.

When you wake up, the first thing that you notice is the light coming through the blinds, making you gasp as you bolt upright. You’ve overslept. The blanket bunches at your waist and you see Dieter sleeping next to you, reaching out in his sleep as he does. “Dieter! Oh shit, I’ve - fuck! I overslept.” You scramble out of the bed, not concerned with the fact that you are topless but you wonder if he covered you up as you rush towards your dresser to pull clothes out. “Fuck, I’m going to get fired.”

Dieter is woken up by your panic and he squints, hair everywhere as he sees you trying to pull clothes on. “Wha- what’s wrong?” He rasps, still sleepy but doesn’t stop his eyes from taking in your ass in those tiny panties.

“I overslept!” You don’t turn around, too busy pulling out clothes to wear. “I- my alerts didn’t go off and I’m going to be late.” You curse and fling another shirt out of your way. You’ve been so busy you’ve just shoved your clothes into the drawers.

Dieter shakes his head, “no. No. You don’t have to go. I - I promised I’d pay you double to come back to me.” He says, confused about your panic and the way you’re shoving your bra on. “Please baby, Don’t put yourself through this shit. Let me help you.”

“Huh?” You stop, turning towards him and frowning in confusion. “You really want- I still need to work my shift.” You tell him. “I can’t just quit without warning.”

“You can and you will.” He says, narrowing his eyes slightly, “you are exhausted. You can barely walk. You can’t - I don’t want to lose you.” He chokes, “please baby. Don’t leave.”

Shoulders slumping, you nod, knowing you can’t continue to keep working at this pace. You are killing yourself. “O-okay.” You agree. “I’ll stay.”

Dieter’s grin is wide as you agree to stay. “Excellent. I’ll call my manager to reinstate you.” He promises, “with double pay.” He glances around your home, “I- I wish you’d told me this is where you live.” He says and you scoff, “why? So you can judge it.” 

He shakes his head, “because I would’ve offered to let you live with me.”

You snort, “there’s no way you would want your assistant to live with you.” You remind him. “It’s a place to live, and it’s what I can afford.” You shrug slightly. “I have worked hard and I’m hoping that I will be able to move sometime next year.” 

“I wouldn’t have wanted my assistant to live with me. I would want you to live with me.” He clarifies, “please baby. Move in with me. I want to take care of you.” He pleads, feeling a little desperate and he feels you slipping through his fingers.

“Dieter….” You don’t know what you can possibly say when he is begging you to move in with him. “If- if I do this, I want to contribute.” You tell him. “I need to, I can’t just live off you. I won’t be like your friends who take and take and never give anything back.” You need him to know that you don’t want him to just take care of you, you want to take care of him as well. 

That makes Dieter fall for you even more. He reaches for your hands, “I don’t want you to be my friend. I want you to be my lover, my partner, my - my girlfriend.” He says, his brown eyes soft as he looks at you. “I fell in love with you as Kitty and as you. I was torn, thinking I had issues because I was in love with two women but it turns out they were the same person. I love you. I want you back in my life. I want to provide for you.”

“And I want to provide for you.” You squeeze his hands in return. “A safe place for you to vent, to talk about your worries and fears. A home for you to relax in and not be judged.” You bite your lip. “I want to talk to you in person, actually lay in a bathtub with you while we do, rub your sore back and make you feel loved. Remind you that you aren’t alone.” 

Dieter smiles and leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. “Baby. I love you.” His hands let go of yours so he can grab your waist, dragging you up against his body. “I know I’m not easy to love. I know we will argue. I know I’ll piss you off but I want that. I don’t want easy. I don’t want simple. I want you.”

“You have me.” You promise, caressing his cheek and leaning in to press your lips to his. The first kiss gentle. “You’ve had me and I don’t care if we fight.” You smile. “I’m sure you’ll call me to make up.” 

Dieter grins, his heart pounding with happiness and he cups your cheek, “I love you. So much.” He murmurs and presses his lips against yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth, his hands squeezing your waist and his mind goes blank to anything but you.

Moaning, you sink into the kiss, your fingers sliding into his hair like you’ve always wanted to do. He’s a fucking good kisser and it makes you dizzy. Pulling back and smiling at him, you bite your lip. “We aren’t on the phone.” You remind him. “Soooooo we can actually experience some of those things we talked about.”

Dieter smiles, his hands sliding down to squeeze your ass. “Later. Right now, I just wanna feel you. I- I can’t believe you’re here and it’s you. I want to experience the emotion and the kinks can be explored later.” He murmurs, kissing your jaw and down your neck as he reaches for the hem of the t-shirt you threw on. He pulls back reluctantly so he can pull it over your head and he groans at the sight of your tits when he throws the shirt to the floor. “Fuck. You’re so gorgeous.” He groans, kissing down your chest until he’s able to take your nipple into his mouth.

He apparently wants soft and slow. Making you smile as you realize that he had slept in his pants. “I know you love your sweats but I want them off of you.” You hook your fingers under the threadbare band and start to tug them down. “Did you change after the party or did you wear these to your wrap party, baby?”

Dieter chuckles, “I changed in the car. I hate those fucking tight pants. Always take a change of clothes with me.” He confesses and you giggle, knowing that Dieter hates wearing any clothes at all when he is at home. You push them down and he’s blushing because he’s already hard. Just the thought of you has him on edge.

“Fuck.” You wrap your fingers around his hard cock and roll the foreskin down. “You don’t know how many times I imagined doing this. Just touching you while you tried to figure out what the fuck was going on.” He moans when you squeeze him gently. “How many times I touched myself thinking about it.”

“You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off. I haven’t been with anyone since that first week we started talking. No one made me feel the same.” He confesses, breaths heavy as you squeeze him and he’s groaning your name - your real name - as you pump his cock. His hands find your panties and he pushes them halfway down your thighs so he can sink his fingers between your folds to rub your clit.

The first touch has your eyes rolling back and moaning his name. “Dieter.” You pant, shuddering at the way his fingers slip through your folds. “I- I need you.” You admit quietly. “I have - I haven’t been with anyone in a year.” You promise. “I’m clean, but- but I’m not on birth control.”

Dieter groans, "do you - do you have condoms? Or I can pull out?" He offers, wanting you to be comfortable and tell him what you want. His fingers slow on your clit, giving you a moment to think about what you want.

“I-“ your mouth drops open and your hips rock towards his fingers, chasing the feeling. “Don’t pull out.” You suggest breathlessly. “Cum inside me.” It’s a risk, especially since this relationship is new, but you want to risk it. “I - I shouldn’t be- but if I do- I want- your baby.” You manage to pant out, your thoughts jumbled.

“Shit.” Dieter hisses, lost in the idea of you pregnant with his child. If anyone else had said that, he’d be running out of the door but the thought of you pregnant with his child has his cock twitching. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.” He groans and he shifts his fingers so he can push two inside of you, wanting to stretch you out for him.

Your mouth presses against his neck, whining into his skin and deciding that you will make that dream of marking him come true. Sucking on his skin as he fingers you, your walls clench down around him.

Dieter pants when you squeeze his cock and he twists his wrist so he can press his thumb to your clit. “So tight around my fingers. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock. God, you’re so - so incredible,” he murmurs and turns his head so he can kiss you again.

You whine into his mouth and squeeze him again. “On the bed.” You pant, eager to have him deep inside you. “Please Dee, I need you.”

He reluctantly withdraws his fingers, unable to deny you, and he kicks off his sweats and pulls his shirt over his head. He’s older now, no longer the lean mean actor he used to be when he did Hunger Strike and he’s a little self conscious of that.

“Fuck.” You bite your lip and step up to him, caressing his chest. “How do you want our first time?” You ask softly, enjoying the softness of his skin and the slight muscle underneath.

“I want you on top.” He decides, knowing he wants to watch you, to worship you, like he’s dreamed of doing so many times. Like that last phone call when he imagined you riding him while he was on the phone to Kitty. “Please baby.” He whines, growing impatient as his cock throbs.

You smirk as you push him back onto your bed and straddle his hips. Grinding your wet cunt against his cock just to hear him moan and jerk his hips up. “Let me ride you then, baby.” You coo, reaching down to wrap your hand around his cock again so you can impale yourself on him. Your eyes on his as you slowly start to sink down.

“Holy shit. I - shit. Fuck.” He chokes, his hands finding your hips and he can hardly breathe. “Fuck baby. I- I don’t - Jesus Christ.” He pants, his cock twitching violently inside of you as you take him inside of you and his eyes drift down to your pussy lips stretching around his length.

“Fuck Dieter.” You whine softly, your eyes slipping closed and you tilt your head back. “So good, fuck, you’re so thick.” You’ve seen his cock, had your hand around it, but it hadn’t prepared you for feeling him inside you. It’s like he’s pushing against your guts and you’re glad you can set the pace this first time together. “I love you.” Your hands slide to his chest and brace there before you open your eyes and lean down to kiss him.

He groans into your mouth, his hands caressing your back as he enjoys the way you feel around him. He can’t believe you’re sitting on his cock. He feels so lucky and he doesn’t plan on letting you go. His tongue slides into your mouth as his hands grip your ass, squeezing and encouraging you to move.

Rocking slowly, you don’t build up a pace that is anything but languid. Wanting to draw this out and make it last. You run your fingers through his hair and moan into his mouth.

He is lost in the sensations of you.

The smell of you. The sounds you are moaning out, and he loves it. He whimpers into your mouth, his hands caressing every inch of you he can reach.

You slowly rock on his lap, every kiss slow and full of emotion. Despite being on top, this feels like making love. Holding tight to one another and making the most out of your first time together.

“God, I love you. Imagined this so many times. So many goddamn times. With my fingers around my cock. Imagining it was you. Wanted you for so long.” He pants, thrusts up into you when you lean forward to kiss him again.

“I love you, Dieter.” You moan, smiling down at him and caressing his cheek. “I fell in love with you on the phone and couldn’t imagine you wanted me, but I wanted you.”

He offers you a love struck smile as you look down at him and he swears his heart is about to beat out of his chest and he knows you can feel it. He wants you to cum so he thrusts up into you, wrapping his arms around you to keep you close.

“Dieter.” You squeal, collapsing against him and kissing his neck while he takes over. “Oh fuck baby, your cock is so thick. So good inside me.”

up into you, a little faster but this is still slower than frantic sex he’s ever had. “It’s because - fuck - fuck you’re so tight, Kitty Cat.” He gasps the nickname he gave you. “I need you to cum for me.” He pleads, his fingers digging into your ass.

“Gonna.” You pant, grinding down on him as gasping when the curl, short hairs above his cock catch your clit just right. Providing the friction you needed to send you flying. “Deee!” You cry out, shaking and coming apart in his arms as you soak his cock.

He groans as you clamp down on his cock, making him moan your name. “That’s it baby. That’s it. Fuck.” He pants, normally boastful of his stamina but you send him over the edge. He pants as he thrusts up into you, “can I - inside? Or no?” He asks, needing permission before he cums inside of you.

“Inside.” You moan, desperate to feel him paint the inside of your womb with his hot seed. Even if it does not take, you want to feel it. You will go get on birth control if he’s not quite ready for the responsibility of a child. But you track your period and you should be safe.

Dieter groans, thrusting up and inside of you, and he thrusts a half dozen more times until he’s pushing deep and painting your walls with his hot seed. “Fuck fuck fuck.” He hisses, lost in the pleasure and he tilts his head back, eyes clenched shut.

You kiss along his jaw and clench around him, enjoying the way that he moans your name when he’s pump the last spurt of cum inside you. “That was amazing.” You giggle. “I love you. I love you, baby.”

“Is this real life?” Dieter asks and you giggle. 

You caress his cheeks, “it’s real.” 

Dieter opens his eyes to look at you, “you’re real. I can’t believe it. I’m so fucking lucky.” He murmurs, kissing your chin.

“I’m lucky.” You feel more relaxed than you have in a long time, snuggling against his chest and tilting your head up to kiss his jaw. “I love you.”

Dieter caresses your back and closes his eyes, feeling like he’s where he belongs. With you. He just needs to get you back to his home so he can look after you.

****

“Baby! I’m home!” Dieter shouts as he comes into the hallway balancing his backpack and the take out he picked up on his way home. “I got the tacos!” He shouts and Maury jumps up to greet his daddy as he comes into the house. “Hey boy. You been looking after your mama?” Dieter asks and Maury barks. Dieter carries the bag into the kitchen and finds you sitting on the sofa, reading on your phone. Anything good?” He asks and you shake your head.

“No. Just researching what the best pre-school is. The other moms at the prenatal class are already signing their babies up and they aren’t even born yet.” 

Dieter snorts, coming to sit beside you and his hand finds your bump. “Hey, baby boy.” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss your bump. He brings his head up to kiss your lips. “Hey mama.” He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours. “Don’t worry about that. Our baby is a Bravo. He’s gonna be first on the list.”

“Yeah?” You giggle quietly. “You gonna flirt with the admissions personnel?” You ask, covering his hand with your own. Since that first day at your apartment, things have changed drastically. He had moved you into his Sherman Oaks mansion immediately and true to his word, he had a contract written up to protect your job from rash firings. He had also added clauses that would give you time to find another place to live if things didn't work out. Although they have, beautifully. You are expecting his first baby within the next two months and you’ve never seen a more eager father. He’s still letting you look after his schedule, but he has you working at home when he’s going to spend long days at the studio, his schedule open for the next six months after this project wraps. He wants to be home to bond with the baby.

“I only flirt with you, Kitty Cat.” He promises with a chuckle, “buuuuuuuuut maybe a little eye flutter from Oscar Winner Dieter Bravo might get him admission into the best damn preschool in town.” He says with a confidence he didn’t have before he started talking to you. 

“Mmm. If it’s for our boy, we can figure something out.” You tease and Dieter kisses you. 

“But you are my number one.” He promises, “that’s why I’m gonna marry you.” He says and you rear back. He’s never really mentioned marriage. Kids, yes, but not marriage. “Marry me.” He murmurs, his dark eyes meeting yours.

“Dieter.” You bite your lip and reach out to caress his cheek. “Are you sure? We don’t have to get married.” His ex-wife had been a bit contributor to his badly beaten self image. “I love you no matter what I am to you legally.”

“I want you to be my wife. I want to be your husband. I want you. Forever. Our family.” He murmurs and caresses your bump. “I love you, Kitty Cat. Marry me. Be mine.” He requests, “I - I gotta get a ring and I should ask you in a fancy restaurant but - shit. I’m doing this all wrong?”

“No.” You promise him, beaming as you lean in and kiss him. “You aren’t doing it all wrong. The only way it could have been any better is if you had proposed over the phone.” You tease, your love of talking on the phone hasn’t diminished since you’ve lived together, just changing to times when you can’t be together due to his work schedule.

Dieter offers you that awkward half smile as he looks at you, waiting for your answer. “So, uh, are you - is that a yes?” He asks, biting his lip.

“Of course I will marry you.” You giggle when you realize you hadn’t answered him and you kiss him again. “I would love to marry you, Dieter Bravo.”

Dieter cups your cheek, “I love you, Mrs Bravo. Soon to be Mrs Bravo.” He grins, excited to be your husband and for you to be his wife. He never imagined his entire life would change when he decided to call the sex hotline but fuck, he’s so glad he did. His life has changed for the better and all he had to do was open his eyes and see what was in front of him the entire time: His assistant. His Kitty Cat. The mother of his child. His wife.

[g1rld1ary]

Could I request an Anthony Lockwood x Reader fic where Reader falls ill and Lockwood tries his best to take care of us with a side of lots and lots of fluff <3

wc: 848

summary: lockwood takes care of you when you're ill

me: thanks for waiting love this was such a cute request hope u like!!!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“was that a cough?” lockwood asked as you broke the silence that had settled over the library in portland row.

“no,” you lied to his face, pointedly avoiding eye contact. “choked on a biscuit, s’all.”

“you haven’t had a biscuit in fifteen minutes,” lockwood pointed out, “i’d be worried if you just started choking.” you rolled your eyes, caught out.

“fine. i took a walk this morning and it was bit colder than i thought. my body’s just trying to adjust, i’m fine. should we go back over the case?” lockwood shook his head, tutting like a mother hen.

“you know the rules, read the sign.” he pointed through the library door into the kitchen, where the back page of a bill was pinned to the fridge. your bold handwriting read do not work when sick. sick days are bed days!!!!! now that the message was directed at you and not lockwood you thought five exclamation marks were probably overkill.

“i’m not sick, lockwood. can we just get back to work?” you smiled despite the complaint, touched at the way lockwood was fretting about you.

“no way,” he said, impetuous tone creeping into his voice. you ignored him, figuring it was just another bite back. suddenly you were hoisted into the air, grabbing onto lockwood for dear life.

“what are you doing?” you shrieked, squirming in his arms.

“taking you to bed, darling,” lockwood said, smiling softly down at you, “not like that, don’t be a perv.”

“it’s not my fault!”

lockwood tossed you onto his bed, busying himself with tucking you in under the covers. seeing your pathetic pout he just laughed, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

“oh shit,” he said, “you’re warm, do you feel feverish?”

“no,” you lied again, trying to push yourself up. lockwood shook his head, pushing you down lightly with a joking hand over your face.

“i’m getting you some medicine. stay put,” he instructed with a warning finger, ducking out of the room.

you wanted to be frustrated, to be annoyed that lockwood was babying you and interrupting your workflow. but when you thought about the warmth of lockwood’s duvet, of his smell lingering between the sheets, when you saw the framed photograph of the two of you on his nightstand, any hostility crumbled into fondness. you loved that boy, and it was easy to love him.

lockwood returned minutes later with a tray and more kindness than you could have expected. no one had ever looked after you like this.

“have you brought the whole kitchen up with you?” you laughed, propping yourself up on your arms. the tray was crammed full with a glass of water, juice, a mug of tea, medicine tablets, snacks, and a hot water bottle. it was past ridiculous, especially given the fact that you were hardly ill.

“i just want you to be comfortable, love,” lockwood answered easily, and all your teasing melted away.

he adjusted you so the tray fit nicely over your legs, pillows stuffed behind your back so you were sitting comfortably. when satisfied that you were in a good position lockwood raced around to the other side of the bed, crawling underneath the covers next to you.

“how are you feeling?” he asked, big brown eyes examining every inch of you. you laughed sweetly, enamoured by the boy in front of you.

“i feel fine, lockwood. great, even.”

“but sick?”

“but sick,” you confirmed, taking a sip of the tea he’d made you.

lockwood began to talk, chatting about whatever popped into his head as you consumed all of the beverages he’d prepared for you. you liked listening to him, lockwood was a good talker and always told the best stories. jokes in all the right places, dramatic pauses and the right amount of background information. it was one of the things that first drew you to him, you couldn’t stop begging for more stories so you could hear his voice for a few more minutes.

lockwood noticed you zoning out, immediately removing the tray from your lap and arranging you into a comfier position without being asked.

“you should nap,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear gently.

“will you tell me another story?”

“of course, darling.” lockwood never said no to you, he wasn’t wired that way.

despite the initial sickness running through your body, all you felt was love. love for lockwood and love from him. some people considered lockwood to be dramatic, some thought he had too much bravado for his own good. whilst that was all true, you knew that primarily, lockwood had kindness and generosity written into his genetic code. if he thought he could do anything to help you, he’d make sure he did it.

“anthony?” you murmured, three seconds from sleep.

“yes, my love?”

“i love you.”

“i love you too,” he leant down to kiss you softly, not caring about the germs he’d get from you. “so, so much.”

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesongfics.

Fan Mail

June Prompt: Song By Blondie | Word Count: 876 | Rating: T | Characters: Steve, Robin, Eddie | CW: Language | Tags: Future Fic, Canon Divergence, No Upside Down, Steve "I'm a Big Fan" Harrington, Platonic Stobin

For a song by Blondie, I picked Fan Mail.

The crumpled ball of paper hits the wall, banking off and falling straight into the trash can. At least his aim is good, even if his writing isn't. Steve looks up at the poster over his desk, and sighs. He's fucking pathetic. Seriously, is his plan really that he's gonna write Eddie "The Freak" Munson with some, what, fan mail? Yeah, that's a great fucking plan. 

Hi, remember me? We went to high school together. I was a bit of a dick, but I'm hoping you've forgotten that. You're pretty hot up on that stage. Call me.

Yeah, right. 

He's definitely aborting this mission. It was a stupid idea, anyway.

A few weeks later, Steve pulls a stack of letters out of the mailbox. Bill, bill, junk, junk, bill…and then his stomach drops with dread. A red envelope, with the Corroded Coffin logo drawn in the corner, where the return address should be.

What the fuck? No, seriously, what the fuck?

Steve takes it to the kitchen counter and sits it down, filled with dread. He didn't lose his mind and actually mail one of those goddamn letters, right? Surely he'd remember doing something as unhinged as that. 

He wants to open it, but he also really doesn't want to know what's inside.

So, it sits. For an hour, a day, a week.

It sits until Robin swings by one day, and picks it up like the Nosey Nellie she is, "What's this, dingus?"

Steve reaches for it, trying to grab it from her grubby little hands, "Nothing!"

"It doesn't sound like it's nothing," she crows, and holds it behind her back. 

"Robin, give it to me," he warns, low and pissy. If he opens it, it's gonna be on his own terms. And that's a big if. As long as he leaves it alone, he'll never have to know what's inside. Good, bad or ugly.

"Why haven't you opened it? Maybe it's important," she says, "maybe it's from Eddie."

And he knows. He suddenly knows exactly what's happened here, and he's gonna kill her.

"What the fuck did you do?" he asks, eyes narrowed.

"What you were too chickenshit to," she says, and she presses the envelope to his chest.

"Goddamnit, Robin," Steve says, feeling embarrassed and sick, "they weren't, I wasn't, ready."

Robin's eyes soften, "I know you, Steve. You'd never be ready."

She's not wrong, she's not, but still. She shouldn't have done this to him. It could be classified as a hate crime, he's pretty sure. And maybe even tampering with the U.S. mail. That's a federal offense. He could have her prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

"Quit daydreaming about my demise, and just open it. Then you can kill me if you need to," she says, and he nods, sliding onto the stool at the counter. 

He slides his thumb under the flap of the envelope and tugs, ripping it open, pulling out the letter. When he unfolds it, two tickets fall onto the counter and Robin reaches for them, and he just lets her. 

And he reads. 

It's short, and funny, and not as embarrassing as he'd feared. Eddie seems happy to have heard from him, and the two tickets are an invitation. It seems casual, but Steve knows better.

Holy shit.

He's actually made a fucking pass at Eddie Munson, and he seems to have made one back? What is happening right now? For real. 

"Well?" Robin asks, bouncing on the balls of her feet, impatient. 

"He invited me, us, to their show in Indy next month."

"See? I told you it'd be fine, dingus," she says, and he nods.

He spins on his chair, to face her full-on, "What version did you send?"

Steve suddenly needs to know how embarrassed he needs to be right now.

"The least stalkerish one, I swear," she says, "and I included a note from me, so he'd know, you weren't exactly aware it was being mailed."

That's probably more embarrassing, he thinks. Like he was just sitting there, pining, like a fool, and his best friend had to intervene.

Eddie must think he's the fucking freak, now. 

The tickets are good. Really good, Steve has suddenly realized, as they stand right next to the stage. They aren't front and center, more off to the side, but still. Right there. Front row. Where Eddie will definitely be able to see them, and know they came, if he just looks down.

And he does. 

As soon as he hits the stage, he comes right to their side, squats down, and reaches out to hand Steve something. Steve's frozen, eyes locked on Eddie's, so it's Robin's hand that reaches out and takes the folded up piece of paper he's offering.

Once Eddie's gone from in front of them, taking his spot center stage and getting the show started, Robin is unfolding the piece of paper. 

Steve leans over her shoulder, and it's dark. Nearly too dark to read, but it's fan mail. Right back. Talking about how he'd always liked looking at him, too, back in high school.

That he'd like to look at him a little bit more after the show tonight, if Steve is interested.

Oh.

Steve is definitely interested.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesongfics and follow along with the fun! 🎶

[matcha-milkies]

LIKE AN OLEANDER

Summary: Bill Cipher needs a footstool and a thoroughly Stockholmed Ford is happy to oblige.

Relationships: Bill Cipher & Ford Pines, Pyronica is there too

Content Warnings: Abuse, Master/Pet, Psychological Torture/Horror/Trauma, Stockholm Syndrome, Victim Blaming, Sensory Deprivation

Tags: Triangle Bill, Canon Divergence - Weirdmageddon, Bill Cipher Wins, Collars, Chains, Whump, Hurt No Comfort, Bill Cipher is a Jerk

Word Count: 1,306

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: Based on @jellyskink’s immaculate Domesticated Ford AU, in which Bill mentally breaks Ford in the 1980s and brainwashes him into an obedient and fawning pet. Weirdmageddon started early, and over time the weirdness bubble surrounding Gravity Falls naturally expanded to contain both California and Oregon. If you want to learn more, there’s a lot more tidbits on their blog, though fair warning it’s a pretty dark and sad AU.

Thank you, jellyskink, for giving me the green light to write a fic for this!

I saw someone say this au is “all pain, no sex” which is really at the heart of what I look for in fics, but is so painstakingly absent in most fandoms, so this is a godsend •⩊•

If you haven’t listened to “Oleander” by Mother Mother what are you even doing with your life /lh

Bill Cipher is in a particularly good mood today. He and Pyronica probably broke a record for largest bonfire in California, even counting all their previous antics over the years. Not the dream demon’s most creative endeavor by a long shot, but hey, sometimes you just gotta start a blazing inferno to let off some steam. Nothing wrong with a bit of simple, straightforward arson now and then.

It’s only when he returns to the Fearamid, practically glowing, buzzing and high off the screams of the innocent, that he remembers the state he left Sixer in.

The man is in a kneeling position, collared by the neck. His hair, fluffy and disheveled, feathers down to around his shoulders, brushing against the cruel blue metal. His twelve fingers twitch and grasp at nothing, futilely, as though groping for purchase on a rugged cliffside. His purple sweater is rumpled in places, like he had pulled and grabbed at that too, to no evident avail. He’s whimpering to himself, words that are at first indiscernible as Bill enters the massive chamber.

The scientist is tethered to a ring near the base of the Throne of Frozen Human Agony, staring vacantly into the middle space, unseeing. It’s not his fault. Bill severed all input from his optic nerves, so he literally can’t see. Or hear. Or feel. Yeah, he cut off those nerves too. It was supposed to be a punishment that lasted a few hours. And then Bill had left and gotten carried away with his fun, and well, it had been an entire day.

Whoops.

Make no mistake, he doesn’t feel bad about it. If anything, it’s kind of funny, like forgetting to feed your dog! Wait. Humans don’t find that funny. Well, who can expect them to understand the emotions of an all-powerful chaos god? He draws closer, and the previously indiscernible words sharpen into clarity.

“I love you, my muse. I love you.”

Repeated ad nauseam to the uncaring void.

“Aww,” Bill clasps his hands together and brings them closer to his eye. “He’s so pathetic!” Pyronica, who came in with him, nods her agreement and laughs along. This must be what it’s like to catch your puppy mid-dream, its little tongue lolling and leg kicking at nothing.

He can’t remember whether he instructed his pet to repeat those words or not. Honestly, it’s anyone’s guess. Bill’s will and Ford’s are so inextricable at this point that Ford often does things without needing to be told. Of course, they’re not entirely on the same wavelength, or else punishment wouldn’t be required in the first place.

“Eh, remind me to snap him out of it in another half an hour,” Bill says, settling himself on the throne. With a wave of an arm he summons a martini glass. “I’m gonna have myself a drink.”

“Sure thing, boss.” He summons a glass for her too, and hipshot, she accepts. “Hey, you think we should’ve put the fire out before we left?”

They both share a hearty chuckle over that. “Would be a shame if it all burned down!” Bill sighs as the laughter dies down. “Nah, but seriously. California will still be there for us to play with tomorrow. And if it isn’t, we can always just rebuild it! In my image! Ha!”

“Yeah. Technically the fires are my image though.”

“Touché!”

They talk for a while, maybe 20 minutes or so in this fashion, casually sipping time punch and discussing unnatural disasters like they’re music festivals. Ford goes completely untouched and unnoticed, until suddenly Bill returns his attention to the human, and a light bulb goes off next to his hat.

“Wait. Do you wanna see something hysterical? I have the best idea.”

Every sensation returns to Ford at once in a flood of color, touch and sound. Sometimes, when Bill is feeling merciful, he eases him back into it, but his merciful moods are few and far between. More commonly, he likes to toss the scientist in the deep end and watch him flounder, tears quickly beading at the corners of Ford’s eyes and spilling fatly over his cheeks. His body convulses in a singular, broken sob, and before he can finish another apologetic, “I love you,” Bill hits him with a hard command.

“Stanford! I need a footstool!” The demon extends his legs and wiggles his feet a little. He whistles as though beckoning a dog. “Come ‘ere!”

Despite his disorientation, Ford rushes to obey, lurching in the direction of Bill’s voice and falling flat on his face. Shakenly, he picks himself off the ground, letting loose a singular groan.

“I’m still waiting!” Bill sings, swinging his legs a little for effect. Pyronica snickers. Ford tries again, following the sound of his muse’s voice, although he is quickly dismayed to find that he’s already reached the end of his chain. He falls just short of Bill’s feet, and no matter how he chokes himself, no matter how hard he tugs at the collar or the chain attached, he can’t go any further than this. His distress is evident in the way he keens.

“What are you doing?” Bill demands, rolling his eye. “All I asked for was a simple footstool and you can’t even do that? Bad! Bad dog!” Ford sobs.

“I-I’m sorry, my muse!” he rasps, the cold metal of the collar pressing in on his windpipe as he strains to obey. “I’m so sorry!”

Pyronica is practically in stitches at this point, and Bill is a showman, a class clown ever chasing the next laugh. “Are you really though?” His eye wanes to an amused crescent. “Do you even love me, if you can’t even follow a command as simple as this?”

“Yes!” Ford insists with a cry. “Yes, my muse, I love you! I’m sorry that I’m so useless… Please, please forgive me…”

“Why should I? Do you think you deserve forgiveness?”

“N- No,” Ford sniffs, “but—”

“Alright, alright. Since I’m in such a good mood, I’ll give you a hand.” Bill waves his hand in a circle and the chain elongates, allowing just enough slack for Ford to crawl under his waiting feet. Bill settles them heavily on top of Ford’s back and sighs. “Ahh, that’s better.” The man shakes under the weight.

“Thank you, my muse,” he says. Normally, he would be a lot happier about serving Bill like this, but he’s clearly still torn up over his recent punishment and failures. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it, kid!” Bill rests his hands behind his ‘head,’ or rather, the tip of his topmost vertex. “Maybe after this, if you’re good, you can have a treat.”

“R- Really? Oh, thank you so much, my muse. I promise I’ll be good.” His voice is still wavery from the earlier-shed tears, but his cheer seems to be returning. It’s not difficult to keep the man happy when he’s so thoroughly and hopelessly smitten with his muse. Bill could have Pyronica drop-kick Ford off the top of the Fearamid right now and when he reached the bottom he would find a way to smile and thank Bill, no matter how many broken pieces he was in.

“Yeah. Now shut up while I get some reading in. Hasn’t anyone ever told you footstools don’t talk? Sheesh.” With a sigh, Bill summons an extradimensional magazine and floats it in front of his eye, every so often flipping through the pages. Pyronica says she’s off to see what Teeth and Keyhole are up to, and Bill acknowledges her departure with a little grunt and wave. Ford stifles a whimper. His back has already been giving him issues lately, and this definitely isn’t helping matters, but he soldiers through it for his muse. He’s determined not to mess up again. He’s determined to be a good footstool.

A/N: This is my first time writing from Bill’s perspective! I don’t usually write him this cruel, so it was a fun change of pace to lean full force into that side of him. Thanks again, jellyskink, I hope you liked this little installment!

[pookie-mulder]

October 2024 fic roundup

👶☑️ Beginnings by @television-overload

The most perfect follow-up to Of Our Own Making! Seeing m&s fall in love and go on their first date AFTER getting married and having a child together is just precious. (Especially Mulder’s “will u go out with me” note!) I love their unconventional relationship so much.

🐓🍽️ Untitled by @aloysiavirgata

This little fic is hilarious! I love Mulder getting the chance to be subtly petty towards Bill. I also love to see MSR being so domestic and settled down in the unremarkable house.

blue prints by @foxmulders

(Couldn’t find an ao3 link to this one)

Oof. This one hurts in the best way. It’s everything you want for these characters that they never got to have. It’s fluff, but it feels like angst because it’s a reminder of what the Mulder-Scully family could have been. I love it!

🛁🫧 the alchemy by @leiascully

I absolutely adore “platonic” intimacy that happens when they’re not quite together, and this fic starts out that way and ends in some incredibly satisfying RST. For such a short fic, this one sure does pack a punch! One of my favorites from fictober.

🕳️📍 You Send Me by spookynerd

The silliest premise leads to the sweetest romance! I love to see Mulder all pathetic and pining. My favorite line: “I’m in love. I think it’s terminal.”

🧜‍♀️💍 mermaids, native to montana by @foxmulders

I read this one a while ago and recently stumbled across it again. It’s the type of fluff with an undercurrent of sadness that creates such a powerful sense of longing. If you’re a fan of an unconventional marriage fic, read this one!

🛌🚂 Untitled by @myassbrokethefall

I usually steer clear of revival fics (I haven’t even been able to bring myself to watch it yet) but this one is just so darn sweet! I’d like to go back in time and show CC a copy of this fic so he writes it into the show.

🎂💌 Birthday Blues by Donnilee

I’m a fan of an author who can turn the silliest, most improbable situations seem probable, and this fic delivers. Read it if you’re a fan of tropey goodness and smut that’s as adorable as it is hot.

💇‍♀️💥 By the Dim and Flaring Lamps by @sunflowerseedsandscience

I was in the mood for a historical setting, and this Civil War AU fit the bill! One of my favorite things was its exploration of 19th-century gender roles, not to mention the unconventional romance.

🇮🇪🏰 Katherine of Ireland by Jenna Tooms

If you’re a fan of Hiraeth (as I am), you’ll love this one! It has a very similar setting and plot. The writing styles are very different, though, so it’s not like they’re carbon copies of each other or anything.

Anyway, this fic is achingly romantic, with plenty of lines that take your breath away.

(If you want the epub for easier reading, let me know!)

🏝️👻 Waldron Island by @sisterspooky1013

Like Gaslight, this fic features M&S not being able to trust their own minds. However, this time, it’s for horror reasons, not sci-fi reasons. Regardless, that concept is one of my favorites to explore in fiction, so I absolutely devoured this spooky fic! (And the ending scene? 😫🔥🥵🥹‼️)

😈🪞 Succumbing to the Truth by OnlyTheInevitable

If you liked Waldron Island, you’ll love this one! It’s a similar concept, but lies more in the casefic genre rather than straight-up horror. I loooove the way it uses the plot (a succubus demon) to force M&S closer together and finally talk about their feelings. It’s one of those fics where you can see where it’s going, which adds anticipation and makes the ending so much sweeter!

🥤🛍️ Inevitable by @thefinestmuffins

This alternate version of the car conversation in Tooms is an incredible Scully character study that’s absolutely dripping with UST. For a short fic, it truly packs a punch! One of my favorite parts is this: “On the Dana Scully list of priorities, want figures very, very low. It’s not that she doesn’t possess it in great quantity, it’s just that she fights like hell to rate it less highly than ambition, dignity, control, pragmatism, self-sufficiency, stability.”