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sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 6 months ago

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𝕿𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝕿𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 | 2

read chapter 1 - here [MASTERLIST]

screencaps and gifs: Pinterest

Pairing: dark!Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, BLOOD, Auctioning people, talks of BDSM, talks of virginity, talks of... Sex..aftercare..limits..NDA..discomfort...virginity..masturbation..anxity, Dom and Sub dynamics, underage drinking (20), food, kissing, making out, Joel starts to get a little obsessive or toxic THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

Summary: A mysterious message and a weekend away with the man who just bought you for a VERY large amount of money. What could go wrong?

WC: 5.9K

A/n: Thank you for all the love in the first part. My question for you all is, what do you want to see happen next? Any theories? Or expectations?

For notifications follow - @sinful-mind-joyful-fics

You stood up, smoothed out your dress, and took a deep breath. As you stepped towards the stage, the curtain drew back slightly, giving you a tantalizing glimpse of the auction room. The ambient lighting cast a soft glow, illuminating the expectant faces of the bidders, their anticipation palpable in the air.

Stepping into the spotlight, you felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. The auctioneer's voice echoed in the room, commanding attention as he announced, "And now, presenting number 3, starting bid at $500."

The initial bid was quickly followed by a murmur of excitement. "$600," someone called out confidently. You scanned the crowd, noticing the bidder: a sharply dressed woman with an air of authority.

"$700," another voice chimed in, this time from a man in a sleek, black suit, his demeanor cool and composed. The numbers climbed higher, each bid like a jolt to your already racing heart.

"One thousand," a younger man with a mischievous glint in his eye offered, leaning forward in his seat.

The bids continued to rise, the energy in the room intensifying with each new number. "Five thousand," declared a distinguished older gentleman, his silver hair gleaming under the lights.

As the auctioneer teased the crowd, "Ten thousand, do I hear ten thousand?" you felt a wave of nausea. Your heart was pounding, and your stomach was in knots. The bids climbed higher and higher, the room a blur of faces and voices.

"Twenty thousand," someone else from the crowd stood up. "Thirty thousand, do I hear thirty thousand?"

You felt sick as the numbers continued to go up. Your heart was in your throat, and you felt dizzy and lightheaded. "Fifty thousand," the auctioneer's voice teased the crowd, sending another ripple of excitement through the room.

"Seventy thousand," a man in an extravagant velvet suit called out, his voice dripping with arrogance.

As you tried to stay coherent, the numbers continued to climb. "One hundred thousand," someone else bid, and your anxiety spiked.

"One hundred and twenty thousand," the auctioneer prodded.

A tall man from the back corner suddenly stood up, his voice cutting through the chatter, "Nine hundred thousand." Your stomach flipped upside down. The man exuded an air of confidence and power, his presence dominating the room. His gaze was intense, filled with hunger and determination, and he seemed to linger on you.

Just as the bidding war was getting more intense, another man jumped up, his voice commanding attention. "One million dollars." He looked directly at the first man, his eyes full of challenge.

The crowd began to stir, eager to see what would happen next. "One-point-seven million," the first man replied, his voice steady and confident, his gaze still locked on you.

"Two million," the second man countered, raising an eyebrow, his voice calm but firm.

Suddenly, the room fell silent, everyone holding their breath. The auctioneer looked around, gauging the tension. Then, the first man spoke again, his voice clear and decisive, "Three million."

The second man's eyes widened in surprise, realizing he had been outbid. He shook his head in defeat, stepping back into the shadows. The crowd erupted in applause.

As the auctioneer declared, "Three million is the winning bid, going once... going twice... sold!" a sense of relief washed over you. But then, you heard the voice again, familiar and unsettling. It was Joel.

Faith hurried to your side, her expression a mix of concern and urgency. "You should be careful around Joel," she whispered. "He's intense and not someone to take lightly."

Joel walked up to the stage, his presence as commanding as ever. He extended a hand towards you, his eyes softening slightly as they met yours. You took his hand, and he helped you down from the stage with a surprising gentleness. His grip was firm, yet reassuring, and you found yourself leaning into his strength as he guided you through the crowd.

He guided you towards a table nestled in the quieter corner of the room, where a man awaited, already rising to his feet with a welcoming smile. "Hi there, I'm Tommy," he greeted, extending his hand in a gesture of hospitality. His demeanor exuded a relaxed charm, a stark contrast to Joel's intensity, and his eyes radiated a genuine warmth.

"Hi," you replied, your voice a bit shaky as you took his hand. Joel pulled out a chair for you, and you sat down, feeling a mix of nerves and curiosity. Joel then settled into the chair beside you, his arm draping casually over the back of your seat. You could feel the heat of his presence, both comforting and intimidating at the same time.

The room buzzed with conversation and laughter, but at your table, an awkward silence stretched out. You fiddled with the edge of your dress, Faith's warnings echoing in your mind. Joel's intense gaze didn't waver, and you struggled to find your voice.

"So, uh, do you come to these things often?" you finally asked, trying to break the ice.

Joel's lips twitched into a slight smile. "Not really," he replied. "But when I do, I make sure it's worth it."

You swallowed hard, his words hanging heavily in the air. Tommy, sensing the tension, leaned in slightly. "Don't mind Joel," he said with a chuckle. "He's always been the strong, silent type. I'm here to make sure he doesn't scare you off."

You managed a nervous laugh. "Well, he's definitely... intimidating."

Joel's expression softened a bit more. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I just... I knew I had to have you."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Despite the fear and uncertainty swirling inside you, there was something undeniably captivating about him. "Thank you," you said softly, unsure of what else to say.

Tommy cleared his throat, trying to lighten the mood. "So, what do you like to do for fun?" he asked, leaning forward with genuine curiosity.

You glanced at him, grateful for the distraction. "I like reading, mostly. And I used to paint a lot before school got so hectic."

Joel's interest seemed piqued. "What do you paint?"

"Landscapes, mostly," you said, finding it easier to talk about your passion. "I love capturing the way light changes everything."

Joel nodded, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "I'd like to see your work sometime."

Before you could respond, the auctioneer's voice boomed through the room once more. "And now, presenting number 14, starting bid at $500."

You tensed, recognizing Faith's number. Joel's hand tightened slightly on the back of your chair as both you and Tommy turned your attention towards the stage. Faith walked out with confidence, her eyes scanning the crowd with a boldness that made you proud and anxious at the same time.

Tommy leaned closer to you, his voice low. "That's your friend, right? Faith?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of pride and worry. "Yeah, that's her."

Tommy's gaze lingered on Faith for a moment, then he glanced at Joel. "Didn't you buy her once?"

Joel’s expression darkened slightly. "Only once," he confirmed, his tone cold. "She knows how to put on a show. Knows how to please the crowd."

Tommy smirked, his eyes fixed on Faith with a calculating glint. "Think she’s worth another go?"

Joel’s eyes followed Faith's every move, his jaw set in a hard line. "Maybe. She’s got her uses."

You felt a wave of discomfort wash over you at their callous remarks about Faith. She was your best friend, not just a commodity to be traded. The casual way they spoke about her, reducing her to mere utility, made your skin crawl. You tried to mask your unease, but it lingered in your expression.

The bidding for Faith started off slow but quickly gained momentum. You could see the determination in her eyes, matching the rising excitement in the room.

"One thousand," someone called out, followed by another bid of "Two thousand."

Tommy seemed to be considering his options. He glanced at you, then back at the stage. "She's a hot ticket. Could be a good investment."

Joel watched the scene unfold, his gaze never leaving Faith. "She can handle it. She’s been through worse."

The bids continued to climb, and you could see Faith holding her ground, her composure never wavering. Suddenly, Joel’s voice broke through the din. "Thirty thousand," he called out, his tone calm but firm.

You stared at him in surprise, and Tommy chuckled. "Looks like Joel’s interested."

Joel met your gaze, his expression unreadable. "Just making sure she has a fair shot," he said, but there was a protective edge in his voice.

"Thirty-five thousand!" someone else shouted, and you could see the tension in Joel's face.

"Forty thousand," Joel countered, his tone unwavering.

Tommy's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Fifty thousand," he said, raising the stakes.

Joel's jaw tightened, but he didn't back down. "Sixty thousand."

Tommy raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the competition. "Seventy thousand."

The auctioneer's voice cut through the room. "Seventy thousand, going once, going twice—"

"Eighty thousand," Joel declared, his gaze locking onto Faith.

Tommy leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ninety thousand."

Joel's expression darkened, and you could feel the tension between the two brothers. "One hundred thousand," Joel said, his voice low and dangerous.

The auctioneer's hammer hovered in the air. "One hundred thousand, going once, going twice—"

"One hundred and fifty thousand," Tommy interrupted, his tone smug.

The room fell silent, and Joel's eyes burned with a mix of frustration and resignation. The auctioneer's hammer came down. "Sold! Number 14 for one hundred and fifty thousand!"

Tommy looked satisfied as he watched Faith being led off the stage. "She's going to be quite the addition," he said, a hint of anticipation in his voice.

Joel's hand tightened on your shoulder, his expression hard. "Just make sure you know what you're doing."

Tommy laughed softly. "Oh, I do. Trust me."

As the room settled back into its buzz of conversation and anticipation, a club worker approached your table, carrying a folder. "Mr. Miller, here are the details for number 3," she said, handing it to Joel.

He took the folder, his fingers brushing against yours for a moment. "Looks like we have some reading to do," he said with a small smile, opening the folder and beginning to review its contents. You tried to focus on the conversation with Tommy, but you couldn’t help but feel the weight of Joel's attention on you, mingled with the echoes of Faith’s words in your mind.

Tommy leaned back in his chair, watching Faith being led away. "She’ll make someone very happy tonight."

Joel snorted. "She’s got a reputation for it. Knows how to work the room."

Tommy glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. "Think your friend will be okay?"

You nodded, trying to muster confidence. "Faith is strong. She knows what she’s doing."

Joel's hand slid from the back of your chair to your shoulder, squeezing gently. "Don’t worry. She’ll adapt. They always do." His words were meant to be reassuring, but they sent a chill down your spine.

Tommy smirked. "Well, let's see how long she lasts this time."

As the conversation continued between Joel, Tommy, and yourself, a club worker approached your table, carrying a folder. "Mr. Miller, here are the details for number 3," she said, handing it to Joel.

He accepted the folder, his fingers briefly brushing yours. "Looks like we have some reading to do," he remarked, opening the folder to review its contents. You couldn’t help but wonder what secrets lay within, and why Joel seemed so focused on them.

Meanwhile, Tommy excused himself from the table, his eyes still fixed on Faith as he made his way over to her. You watched him go, a sense of unease settling in your stomach at the thought of Faith being in his hands.

Turning back to Joel, you couldn't help but ask, "Why did you bid on her?"

Joel glanced up from the folder, his expression guarded. "She's an interesting choice," he replied cryptically, his tone giving nothing away.

"But why her?" you pressed, needing more than just a vague answer.

Joel hesitated, his gaze distant for a moment before returning to meet yours. "Let's just say she's caught my attention before," he replied evasively.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding. Whatever Joel had planned, it was clear that Faith was at the center of it. But as you watched Tommy approach her, you couldn't shake the feeling that she was walking into a dangerous game, with no way out.

Joel seemed to sense your unease, and he leaned back in his chair, studying you thoughtfully. "You seem nervous," he observed, his voice low.

You forced a smile, trying to appear unaffected. "Just a little overwhelmed," you admitted, the weight of the situation pressing down on you.

Joel nodded in understanding, though there was something unreadable in his gaze. "It's a lot to take in," he agreed, reaching for his glass and taking a long sip.

As he set the glass back down, he glanced at the folder in his hand. "Well, it was nice meeting you," he said casually, though there was an undercurrent of dismissal in his tone.

You watched in silence as he stood up, the folder tucked under his arm. "Take care," he added, before turning to leave.

A wave of relief washed over you as he walked away, though it was tinged with a sense of apprehension.

As Joel got up to leave, you couldn't help but feel a surge of curiosity mingled with a tinge of anxiety. "Wait," you called out before you could stop yourself, your voice betraying your uncertainty.

He paused, turning back to look at you with a raised eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "Yes?" he prompted, his tone tinged with a hint of impatience.

You hesitated, unsure of what you wanted to say. "How... how am I supposed to get home?" you finally blurted out, realizing that you hadn't thought that far ahead.

Joel's lips curved into a sardonic smile. "That's not my concern," he replied cryptically, before turning on his heel and disappearing into the crowd.

You watched him go, a sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach. With Joel gone, you suddenly felt very alone.

You sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension as you glanced down at your phone. The lobby furniture wasn't very comfortable, but you preferred it to the makeout sessions and almost porn-worthy sounds emanating from the ballroom where the auction had ended. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the low murmur of intimate conversations, creating a strange juxtaposition of luxury and lewdness.

A message flashed on the screen from a number you didn't recognize, adding to the unsettling atmosphere of the night. "Did you get home safe?" it read, the concern evident in the sender's words.

"I'm nowhere close to home," you replied, your response tinged with hesitation. Who could be reaching out to you at this hour, and why?

Almost immediately, another message popped up. "Need a ride?" it asked, accompanied by a link to a ride-sharing app. Your instincts urged caution, but the uncomfortable ambiance of the dimly lit lobby made you consider the offer more seriously.

"Who is this?" you typed, fingers hovering over the send button. You needed to know more before trusting a stranger.

"If you take the ride, I'll pay for it. And I'll call you to tell you who I am," came the prompt reply, offering a small glimmer of reassurance amidst the uncertainty.

You put your phone down to think about how reckless accepting the offer might be, then considered the cost. The Uber from campus to the venue had already been $50, split between you and Faith. Did you really want to spend more money? No.

"Fine," you sent the message quickly, trying to commit before you could second-guess yourself.

Twenty minutes later, one of the workers caught your attention. "There's a cab for you, miss." You smiled at him and made your way outside, where a sleek black SUV was waiting. This was definitely more than the $50 you and Faith had split for the ride here, you thought as you opened the car door.

You got comfortable in your seat and messaged Faith that you were leaving for the night before your phone rang just as the car got onto campus.

"Hello?" you answered, your voice tinged with curiosity.

"Hey, sweets," came the familiar southern drawl. It was Joel.

"Joel?!" You stopped in your tracks, a mix of surprise and apprehension in your voice. "How the hell did you get my number?"

He chuckled softly. "It was all in your file, remember?"

You wanted to bang your head against a wall. He was right. "Did you get home safe?" he asked, his tone genuinely concerned.

You sighed. “I'm walking there now.”

His tone changed as he continued, “Walking? I got you a cab?”

You smiled at his concern. “Relax, I'm walking to my dorm.”

“Are you close?” he asked.

You clicked the button to the elevator. “Yeah, just about to head up. So, why did you bid on me?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you as you stepped into the elevator.

Joel's voice was thoughtful. “You caught my eye. There was something about you that stood out.”

“Stood out how?” you pressed, leaning against the elevator wall.

“Hard to explain,” he replied. “But I felt like I needed to know more about you.”

You smiled, feeling a strange mix of flattery and suspicion. “Well, now you know I like to paint landscapes.”

Joel laughed softly. “Yeah, and I'd still like to see your work sometime.”

The elevator doors opened, and you stepped out into the hallway. “Maybe someday,” you said, walking towards your dorm room.

“So, tell me more about yourself,” Joel said, his voice steady and inviting.

You hesitated for a moment. “I’m a student, obviously. Trying to make ends meet with a couple of part-time jobs. I like reading, painting, and trying to keep my head above water with school.”

Joel listened intently. “Sounds like you have a lot on your plate.”

“Yeah, but it keeps me busy,” you replied, unlocking your dorm room door and stepping inside.

“What about you?” you asked, closing the door behind you.

Joel sighed. "Not much to tell. My brother and I run a high-earning contracting business. It keeps us pretty busy, moving around a lot."

You sat on your bed, kicking off your shoes. "Sounds exciting. What kind of contracting?"

"Construction, mostly. Big projects, high stakes," he replied. "We take on jobs that require precision and a lot of planning. It's demanding but rewarding."

You leaned back against your pillows, trying to relax after the chaotic night. "It must be nice to see something you've built come together."

"Yeah, it is," Joel agreed, his tone softening slightly. "There's a satisfaction in creating something lasting."

There was a pause, a moment of comfortable silence, before Joel cleared his throat. "I need to talk to you about something."

You tensed, sensing the seriousness in his voice. "What is it?"

"Some things came up in your file," Joel began, choosing his words carefully. "Things I think we should discuss."

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. "Like what?"

Joel hesitated before speaking again. "It mentions you're a virgin."

Your breath caught in your throat, the bluntness of his words hitting hard. "Why does that matter?"

"It’s part of the agreement we entered into," he said, his voice steady but firm. "I want to talk about what that means for both of us."

You sat up, heart pounding. "I don't understand."

"I'd like you to come over to my place for the weekend," Joel continued. "We can go over the contract, and I can answer any questions you have. It's important that we’re both on the same page."

The suggestion hung heavily in the air, the implications clear. You felt a mix of fear, curiosity, and something else you couldn’t quite identify. "This is all very sudden," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I know," Joel replied gently. "But it’s important. I want to make sure you’re comfortable with everything. That you understand what's expected."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "And if I come over... what happens then?"

"We talk," Joel said simply. "We figure out what this means for us. And we take it from there."

The weight of the decision pressed down on you. The night had already been overwhelming, and now this. But there was a part of you that was intrigued, that wanted to know more about this enigmatic man and what he wanted from you.

"Okay," you said finally. "I’ll come over this weekend."

"Good," Joel replied, a note of relief in his voice. "I'll pick you up on Friday evening."

Thursday night, your phone buzzed with a message from Joel. You opened it, heart pounding, eager to see what he had to say.

"Hey, I wanted to give you some more details for this weekend. I'll pick you up at 6 PM tomorrow evening."

You read the message, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. Another message followed.

"Pack enough clothes for a couple of days. Casual is fine, but bring something nicer for dinner. And anything else you might need to feel comfortable."

You typed out a quick response, your fingers trembling slightly. "Got it. Anything else I should bring?"

A few moments later, Joel's reply came through. "Just yourself. And an open mind."

You set your phone down, the weight of the upcoming weekend settling in. You began to mentally prepare yourself, thinking through what to pack and what to expect.

The next day passed in a blur of nervous energy. You spent most of the afternoon packing a small suitcase, carefully selecting clothes that fit Joel's description. Casual wear, a nicer dress for dinner, and a few personal items that you hoped would make you feel at ease.

As the clock approached 6 PM, you found yourself pacing your dorm room, second-guessing your decisions. Your phone buzzed again, breaking the cycle of your anxious thoughts.

"I'm here," read Joel's message.

You took a deep breath, grabbed your suitcase, and headed outside. The evening air was cool against your skin as you spotted Joel's black Ford F-150 parked near the entrance. He stepped out as you approached, his presence as commanding as ever.

"Ready?" he asked, his eyes meeting yours with a steady gaze.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you replied, trying to muster a smile.

He took your suitcase and placed it in the bed of the truck, then opened the passenger door for you. You slipped inside

As Joel started the truck and drove away from campus, you stole glances at him, trying to read his expression. The silence between you was thick with unspoken questions and possibilities.

"Do you have any questions before we get there?" Joel asked, breaking the silence.

You thought for a moment, then decided to voice your concerns. "What exactly are we going to discuss?"

Joel's eyes flicked over to you briefly before returning to the road. "We'll go over the details of our arrangement, make sure you understand everything. And I want to make sure you're comfortable with the terms."

You nodded, feeling slightly more at ease with his straightforwardness. "And... what happens if I'm not?"

"Then we figure it out together," Joel said firmly. "This is about making sure we're both on the same page."

The city lights gradually gave way to the serene, picturesque landscape of the countryside. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the rolling hills and tranquil lakes, you felt a sense of calm wash over you.

Eventually, Joel turned onto a narrow, winding road that led to a secluded lakeside property. The house that came into view was stunning, a perfect blend of rustic charm and modern elegance. Nestled among tall trees and overlooking a pristine lake, it felt like a world away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

Joel parked the truck and helped you with your suitcase, guiding you to the front door. As you stepped inside, the warmth and comfort of the house enveloped you. Hardwood floors, large windows, and tasteful decor created an inviting atmosphere.

"Welcome to my home," Joel said, his voice carrying a note of pride. "Let me give you a tour."

He led you through the spacious living room, with its cozy fireplace and plush furniture. The kitchen was a chef's dream, equipped with state-of-the-art appliances and a large island. Joel showed you the dining area, which offered a breathtaking view of the lake through floor-to-ceiling windows.

"We'll have dinner here later," he said, pausing to let you take in the view. "It's one of my favorite spots in the house."

You continued the tour, passing a home office, a library filled with books, and a den with a large flat-screen TV. Finally, Joel led you upstairs to the guest room where you would be staying. The room was beautifully decorated, with a comfortable bed, a sitting area, and an en-suite bathroom.

"Make yourself at home," Joel said, setting your suitcase down. "Dinner is at 8 PM. Please put on something nice; I want to discuss our contract in a more professional way."

You nodded, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves. "Thank you, Joel."

He gave you a reassuring smile. "Take your time to settle in. I'll see you downstairs."

After he left, you took a moment to unpack and freshen up. You chose a dress that you hoped struck the right balance between elegance and professionalism. As you prepared for dinner, your mind raced with questions about what Joel would say and what the future might hold.

At precisely 8 PM, you made your way downstairs. The dining table was set with care, and Joel stood by the window, gazing out at the lake. He turned as you approached, his eyes taking in your appearance with a brief but appreciative glance.

"You look lovely," he said, pulling out a chair for you.

"Thank you," you replied, taking your seat.

The table was set perfectly, with red roses in the center adding a touch of elegance. Joel's seat was at the head, and yours was next to him.

“So, what do you think?” Joel asked, watching as you took a sip of wine.

“Of the house?” You giggled for a moment, setting your glass down. “Yes, it’s beautiful.”

Joel smiled. “And the food?”

You glanced down at your plate and took a bite. “Oh, shit.” You hadn’t expected it to taste so good.Joel had prepared: a perfectly seared filet mignon, accompanied by creamy mashed potatoes and asparagus sautéed with garlic and lemon zest. The flavors were so rich.

Joel's smile widened. “Eat up. We’ll go over the details once we’re done. Oh, and that’s going to be your only glass of wine tonight.”

You looked at Joel, puzzled. He quickly explained, “You’re still only 20, and you need a clear head. The wine’s just to take the edge off.”

Joel took a sip of his own wine, and you let your mind wander. The meal was mostly silent, the clattering of plates being the loudest sound in the house. Faith had talked to you last night and helped you pick out your dress. She and Tommy were doing well, and she used her contract to help explain what yours might be like.

The first document was what you expected: an NDA agreement. It was short and to the point.

The second form you picked up was different from what Faith had described. Instead of being a "down and dirty" list, the title read, "Contractual Agreement of Limits Between Dominant and Submissive."

“So, don’t be scared or intimidated by the second form,” Faith had said. “It may sound daunting, but it’s just to make sure you’re comfortable with what will happen. I can help you through it. The rest, well… you and your Dom will be having lots and lots, and I mean lots, of experimental sex.”

You gasped and playfully hit her. “Not for my first time, right?” you asked, anxious.

Faith laughed and gave you a teasing look. “Not right away. But if your Dom wants to do that, it’s up to them. It’s all about consent. And don’t worry, you’ll… you’ll have fun. I promise. And if you need more time to be ready, there are plenty of ways to experiment and get comfortable. Just remember, you always have the right to say ‘no’ and stop the session. Your Dom is there to make you feel pleasure, not discomfort.”

Back in the present, Joel watched you with a calm intensity as you finished your meal. he stood and retrieved the vanilla folder. He opened it and laid the documents on the table.

“First, the NDA,” Joel said. “It ensures that everything we discuss and do remains confidential.” He slid the paper and a pen toward you. After reading it carefully, you signed and handed it back.

“Now, the contract,” Joel continued, placing the more detailed document in front of you. “This outlines our arrangement, including boundaries, limits, and expectations. It's important to be thorough so we’re both on the same page.”

You scanned the pages, your eyes catching on certain terms and conditions that made you blush. Joel patiently walked you through each section.

“Section one covers our roles. I’ll be the Dominant, and you’ll be the submissive,” he explained. “This section also outlines the responsibilities we each have.”

“What if I’m not comfortable with something?” you asked, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Joel’s expression softened. “That’s what section two is for. It lists hard limits—things you absolutely don’t want to do—and soft limits—things you might be open to exploring over time.”

You nodded, still feeling a bit overwhelmed but reassured by Joel's explanations about safewords and aftercare. Suddenly, something washed over you, and you stood from your seat. Taking his and your plates, along with the silverware and glasses, you moved toward Joel's kitchen. He followed you, confused.

“Hey? What's the matter?” he asked.

You smiled at him and grabbed the other dishes left on the table. “The table's dirty. That's no way to do business,” you joked as you began to wash the dishes. “Do you have a garbage disposal?”

Joel grabbed your arm, stopping you dead in your tracks. “Talk to me,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. He reached over to grab a towel, gently drying your hands and ridding them of soap.

You sighed. “I'm a virgin.” Joel looked into your eyes intently as you continued, giving up on formality. “Fuck, Joel, I'm nervous. I'm not even sure if I want to have sex. The closest I've gotten to having sex is my vibrator.”

Joel let go of your hands. “Sit,” he said, pointing to the counter.

“What?” you asked, surprised.

“Sit.” He grabbed your hips and lifted you onto the counter. “Do you trust me?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.” And with that, he kissed you.

His lips were firm yet gentle against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. The kiss deepened as his hands found their way to your waist, holding you close. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him even closer. You could taste the lingering wine on his lips, and the scent of his cologne filled your senses.

Joel's hand slid up to cup your cheek, tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss. His tongue teased the seam of your lips, seeking entrance, and you parted them, allowing him in. The kiss grew more intense, more demanding, as his other hand gripped your thigh, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter.

You moaned softly into his mouth, your body reacting to his touch in ways you hadn't anticipated. The sensation of his tongue exploring your mouth, combined with the heat of his body pressed against yours, ignited a fire within you. You felt yourself melting into him, your previous nervousness beginning to dissipate.

After what felt like an eternity, Joel pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. Both of you were breathing heavily, the air between you charged with electricity.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice husky.

You nodded, still catching your breath. “Yeah. That was...”

“Intense?” he finished for you, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah,” you agreed, your heart pounding in your chest.

Joel brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his touch tender. “We don't have to do anything you're not ready for. Tonight, I just want to make sure you're comfortable.”

His rough, calloused hands slid up your dress, sending shivers down your spine. "Unless you want to try something..." he murmured, his voice low and tantalizing. You blushed, biting your lip as you looked up at Joel.

He pulled you in for another deep, passionate kiss before moving to your neck, trailing soft kisses down to the parts of your skin that weren't covered by your dress. He dropped to his knees, spreading your legs gently. "What are you doing?" you asked, your voice a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

"Shh... trust me," he whispered, his hands wandering under your dress to pull down your panties. He slid them into his pocket with a mischievous grin before returning his attention to you. His lips brushed over your calves, teasing you lightly as you bit your lip in anticipation.

Joel suddenly lifted your legs over his shoulders, placing a soft kiss on your clit. The sensation made your legs tremble, the warmth of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through you. Without holding back, he began to explore you with his mouth, his tongue lapping up every drop of your arousal as if it were the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.

You moaned, your head falling back against the cabinet with a soft thud, but you didn't care. When Joel paused to check if you were okay, you grabbed his salt-and-pepper hair, pushing him further into your pussy. He gripped your legs harder, his tongue moving faster as your moans grew louder.

"Oh fuck..." you gasped, panting as your orgasm built. Your legs began to shake uncontrollably, and you finally came on his face. Joel let your legs slide off his shoulders, wiping his mouth with a satisfied smile.

"Dessert was good," he joked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Instead of responding, you swiftly pulled him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. The night had only just begun, and you were ready for whatever came next.

He pulled away, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and tenderness. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up," he said softly. Scooping you up in his strong arms, he carried you princess-style up to the guest room where you were staying. He set you gently on your feet, his touch lingering. "Use the bathroom," he instructed, his voice firm but caring.

You nodded and went to the bathroom, the cool tile floor grounding you after the whirlwind of emotions and sensations. When you emerged, you found Joel had set out your pajamas neatly on the bed. Next to them was a note in his bold handwriting: "Forget the contract. I have something better in mind."

Your heart skipped a beat as you read the note, a blend of excitement and curiosity bubbling up inside you.

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absurdthirst · 3 months ago

Text

His Happy Ending {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3k

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

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

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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

|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

#pedro pascal #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo imagine #dieter bravo the bubble

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morganbritton132 · 1 year ago

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You probably get this all the time, and I don't know why I only thought about this now, but I'm suddenly fascinated by the idea of a government employee who knows about the Upside Down that has been tasked with keeping an eye on Eddie's TikTok page and just constantly being so frustrated

I never get this but I have thought about it at length!!! Lol.

I just picture one overworked and underpaid agent being tasked with the whole *hand waving* Hawkins Situation.

There used to a time when the Hawkins Project was a coveted position given to the best agents with the highest clearance, but now… Now all the gates to the other world have been closed. There’s been no activity in three decades. Brenner’s dead. The Russians defuncted their projects. The girl – Eleven or Jane, or whatever – hasn’t blown anything up since the nineties.

The Hawkins job is a babysitting job with CIA-level clearance, and it’s just… it was supposed to be a cakewalk but. There’s just… there are so many of them.

And for a while, they were spread all over the country.

One of them is a US Senator now and she called the head of the FBI ‘a bitch’ and ‘a coward’ on a hot mic last week, and maybe.

Maybe for the sake of national security and their own sanity, maybe this agent pulled a few strings and dotted a few more I’s than they’re authorized to just to get Lucas Sinclair, Maxine Mayfield-Sinclair, Dustin Henderson, Nancy Wheeler, and Robin Buckley back in Chicago.

Maybe they did that. There’s no paper trail, but maybe they did.

It’s easier to keep track of a ‘party’ of people if most of them are in the same state.

This Party – as they fondly call themselves – barely qualified as a threat anymore. They are barely a concern at this point. Only a few of them are considered dangerous enough to require anything more than the occasional check-in. Those people being Jane Hopper, James ‘Jim’ Hopper, Nancy Wheeler, Murray Bauman, and – much to this agent’s annoyance – Edward Munson.

Eddie wouldn’t be a cause for concern if he wasn’t so goddamn loud. He is in no way a threat to national security but the CIA doesn’t love when people allude to a defuncted Cold War project that resulted in an inter-dimensional serial killer murdering a bunch of small town high school students.

This agent does not believe that Eddie Munson knows what an NDA is or that he signed one.

It is one thing to write songs about demon bats and hell spilling into small town Americana or to make your album cover resemble the charred remains of Henry Creel’s disfigured body (‘yeah’ the agent thinks, ‘you’re not that slick, Munson’) but it is something else to announce to your millions of TikTok followers that you got rabies in a hell dimension.

This agent does not have enough pull to persuade Congress to outright ban TikTok and actually thinks that a TikTok ban would be an overreach of government control, but damn if it would not have made their life easier. Though they fear that Munson would just go to YouTube and the idea of longer content makes them shiver.

And by the way, this agent expected better from Steven Harrington!

This agent liked Steve! He was one of their favorites!!

Steve didn’t make waves. He lived a quiet life, paid his taxes, and barely had a social media presence. He was an absolute dream to be monitoring until Eddie downloaded that cursed clock app.

Steve was never viewed on the same threat level as Jane Hopper or Murray Bauman, but he was a closely monitored subject due to his long-term injuries and his time spent in the alternate dimension and the Russian bunker under Starcourt Mall. Despite close monitoring, there is no note in his file of any digression until Eddie started shoving Tiktok in his face.

This agent sits in their office at the CIA’s Chicago location.

In the basement, at the end of a long dusty corridor, beneath a buzzing fluorescent light, they get a notification on their computer. It’s from Tiktok, and this agent breathes in slowly. They rub at the forming headache between their brows and names it Eddie Munson.

They click the notification, waits a second for the shitty wifi to bring them to the app, and watches as Steve Harrington says, “Technically we’re time travelers.”

And they sigh.

#Two things I love: (1) Steve being the only one that truly thinks they’re being spied on and #(2) some guy in a middle management-like job having to keep track of all the dumb shit they do #this agent is the reason Eddie gets stopped by the TSA every time he flies. It’s revenge #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

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lukolabrainrot · 2 months ago

Note

Calm theory anon here again!! Lord knows I'm exhausted of this little girl but I wanted to touch on what all we have seen since Italy Birthday trip and Lukes recent like. 1. It was reported by someone who took a photo with Luke at the airport that he was alone. Meaning he flew back by himself. Rumor that he left two days before 2. We got radio silence from the group for a while. 3. Rory unfollowed sienna then it was reported on by the fan pages and then he followed her back. 4. Sienna unfollowed Jack Vine (this is the guy that Luke stays with when he didn't have a house) then it was reported on by the fan pages and she followed him back. The last couple days she's unfollowed him again. 5. Charmaine reposted on TikTok about NDA👀 6. Rory takes a trip with his mom. 7. Sienna likes a post of Hannah Dodd and Nicola from fashion week. 8. Sienna hasn't liked any type of photos of A since early August nor did she like that last Luke post. Now with all this information I'm sure we all can come up with some conclusions. I do think that Luke set up some type of NDA which in my opinion was necessary. We have to remember that Luke's management team is actually a very well-known and establish team this was told to me by people in the PR field. He doesn't have newbies. Now I'm sure that pissed a lot of his friends off. It made them keep quiet about things that they might not have wanted to be quiet about. We clearly see something going on. Now Luke liking A stuff. it was 10 1/2 hours after she posted on her grid with a story posted after four hours of the photos being live. Now the posting to her stories of the grid picture is a new thing. That didn't start till after Italy. What does that tell me? She knows that his notifications for her has been probably turned off. So in order for him to see her photos, she would have to post it in her story which he most likely watches those. This particular photo wasn't liked until after Nicola posted at the concert. I don't believe in coincidences. He got a notification that Nicole posted. Then he went online afterwards watching Nicola story. Now who to say it's not part of his NDA that he has with her that. But as I was thinking about all of this today, one of the interviews that Nic and Luke came to mind. When they were discussing red flags. And one of the questions was keeping up with an ex. Nic said something like I feel that how you speak of your ex says a lot about you or something like that. Remember, Luke listens to every single thing that Nikola has said. She's the one person in this world that he remembers how they met down to the chairs they had sat on. So he would remember stuff like this. So it could be an NDA thing or it could be him trying to be civil with his ex. Regardless of the like which does not tell you anything. The only thing that tells me is she is desperate for that like. She has to put it in her story so that he will see it, she wants that like so bad that she's doing something she never had to do before. Why does she want the like so bad? Because she can control the fandom. Every time Luke likes this girls picture people spiral. it's like on a photo. He's not commenting on it. He's not giving her heart eyes. He's not sharing it to his stories. He liked the picture. We don't know the reason why and we will never know. All I'm saying there is a lot going on BTS that's clearly evident by how they're all moving. We just gotta wait for Nicola to speak more. Remember, her voice should always outshine this girl's voice. Nicola has given us all hints that something more is happening. Let's trust her please

As always, love your thoughts and theories!

Here are some additional theories/thoughts I have about the SM events from today. Disclaimer: These are just my thoughts and interpretations based on all the publicly available information I have seen recently. So please do not take this as 100% fact!

N didn't post her Chappell Roan story until almost midnight her time

L THEN preceded to like A's post approximately 30 minutes after N's CR story- which at that point was technically the day AFTER A made her post

So my little delulu theory is that N went home to L after the concert with her besties, they cuddled up and caught up, N posted her story, this made L log on to IG and prompted him to do his obligatory like of miss A's post after seeing A's story

Some additional notes/thoughts:

Even if N DIDN'T go home to L, all of the available information Calm Theory Anon and I have laid out here tells me this. L DOES NOT HAVE NOTIFICATIONS ON FOR A AND IS NOT PAYING ATTENTION TO WHAT SHE IS POSTING. L IS DOING THIS WITH N THOUGH.

He also liked A's post within a really short time of N's CR story. Now, the only thing this definitively says is that L/N were on their IG accounts around the same period of time. But this was around 12:30 AM their time. It was pretty late at night, and like it's just an interestingggg coincidence if L/N were separate and just both getting on SM around the same time at that time at night. We also know N tends to go on SM when she is getting ready for bed (N has said this). And she posted the CR story around the time she most likely was getting home from the concert. I think there are just a lot of signs/clues pointing that L/N were together around midnight their time. And L was NOT at the CR concert, so that means she would have met up with L AFTER the concert. And if she was meeting L after the concert at that time at night, they were probably with each other the rest of the night. So this is what leads me to believe that N went home to L OR L got the notification for N's story and got on SM and saw A's story. The timing of it all is just very interestingggg to me 🤔

Lastly, A had to essentially BEG L for this like. Why does L still have to like her posts? I have no definitive answer. My thoughts are it's some sort of contractual agreement. Regardless, these likes have no direct indication of L/A's relationship BTS. If I look at the full picture of EVERYTHING, all the signs indicate that L/N are spending more time together (or just since August decided to start publicly hinting to the fandom that they are spending a lot of time together). And all the signs point to L/A not being on good terms, and that there was some sort of rupture in L's friend group around the Italy bday trip.

These are just my thoughts though. What does everyone else think?

#calm theory anon #lukola theories #just some thoughts #🐜

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incogrio · 5 months ago

Text

k.th - escape with me

pairing: taehyun x gn! reader

genre: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort except i’m bad at writing the hurt part

synopsis: taehyun tries to make up for not being able to go out in public w u. ends up trying to act tough in an escape room.

warnings: poorly written all around, angst, tae is kinda mean, reader is cringy, members make fun of tae

w/c: 1.5k+

a/n: okay so. this took so long to write bc ya boy has been STRUGGLING w both motivation and the wifi in costa rica. i kinda gave up at the end, pls forgive me :( once im back in the states, ill be writing much better fics! and i’ll be accepting requests for enhypen too!!!!! (might be a little inaccurate as i am currently getting into them) ANYWAYS LOVE YALL I HOPE YOU DONT KILL ME FOR HOW BAD THIS IS!!!

taehyun was, in many ways, your dream boy. he was affectionate, protective, caring, funny, and he always listened.

except for when he couldn’t.

you were currently in your third fight of the week with your boyfriend of a few months. the topic of your arguments never wavered: you could never be seen in public with him. actually, scratch that. you could be in public with him. it’s not like you wanted a huge display of affection right in the middle of the streets of seoul. you did, however, want to feel like your relationship with your boyfriend wasn’t so one sided.

“tyun, please, stop.” you cried, resting your head in your hands whilst seated on the couch.

“no, you have to listen! i can’t give you what you want, y/n. if only you stopped being so selfish.”

and then, footsteps. a door slamming. blood began rushing to your ears and manifesting itself as tears cascading down your cheeks. he never called you by your real name. he never left you in the middle of a fight. he never made you sob without consoling you. he never.

it wasn’t until two days later that you heard from taehyun in forms other than ‘did you eat?’ texts and doordash notifications. three heavy knocks erupted from the side of taehyun’s fist and the wooden door. the same door that you had been seated at everyday for hours, awaiting his return.

“angel, are you there?” he asked, his voice clearly strained from sobbing or yelling, or both. you didn’t respond, but he noticed your shadow sitting on the ground via the slit between the door and the floor.

he sighed as he slowly adjusted himself to sit with his side and head leaning against the wood.

“you don’t have to open up. just listen, yeah? can you listen for me, doll?” he asked rhetorically. “i am so sorry, angel. you… you deserve so much more than i am able to give you. so much more than hiding and sneaking around and figuring out disguises. you deserve your praises shouted from the rooftops.” taehyun sighed.

a pregnant pause. “i talked to hybe. that’s… that’s what i’ve been doing. i told them how much it’s been hurting us. and i think we can make this work! if you want to, angel… please, please want to.”

you sniffle. “i do.” taehyun closed his eyes and sighed dreamily at the sound of your voice. he allowed himself to cry for a moment, biting his lip to quench his whines.

“thank you, baby.”

a few days later, taehyun is in the back of txt’s van, accompanied by all the members and you. he had promised you that you’d be able to go on actual dates, as long as they were slightly modified. restaurants would be cleared out of people, and staff were to sign an nda. parks were to be closed off to the general public due to “maintenance”. movie theaters were to be kept completely dark at all times, with only you two and the staff not even being allowed to know who the famous person was. it was not a normal relationship, far from it, but it was yours. and he cared enough to try for you.

today, you were on your way to an escape room. txt were already filming a “to-do” episode in this specific location, and taehyun managed to convince the staff to give him a separate escape room to do with you after the filming had ended. you were ecstatic when he told you, and he was ecstatic that you were no longer crying because of him.

except, for a few days ago, when he told his beloved members of the plans.

“you’re taking… them… to an escape room? you’re a scaredy cat.” soobin noted with a scrunched up face in confusion. tyun’s happy smile slowly deflated, his eyes uncrinkling as he thought about what he said.

beomgyu immediately burst out laughing, “you’re gonna embarrass yourself! oh my god- you should record it too!” taehyun immediately rolled his eyes, and pretended his members words didn’t get to him. kai immediately went up to him and patted his back silently.

so now, as he sits next to you he’s fidgeting with his shorts, looking out the window as his sweat becomes more frequent. would you think he was a loser if he got scared? would you break up with him? make fun of him? prefer kai because of his calmness when it comes to jumpscares?

he began bobbing his leg up and down, gnawing at his lip as the van finally pulled up to the filming location. taehyun tried his best to calm himself for the filming, but found that the members had to say his nerves were from fear of the jumpscares.

what felt like too long and too little time passed, and suddenly you were both being told the synopsis of your goal by the escape room manager.

as you both walk inside the dimly lit, extremely decorated gigantic cage, you slip your hand into taehyuns.

“i’m a little nervous…” you muttered, and he felt a glimpse of both hope and bravery blossom in his chest.

a small smile graced his lips, “don’t worry, i’ll protect you!” he said with his teeth sticking out from behind his lips. he looked adorably unthreatening. immediately after, a booming recording welcomed you into the chamber.

“WELCOME LAB RATS!” it shouted, causing you both to jump, “DONT WORRY! YOU WONT BE IN THIS CAGE SOON! SOON, YOU’LL BE JUST LIKE HIM!” and suddenly! the roof pops open and a giant, fake rat corpse falls to the ground. you immediately shriek and hide behind taehyun, and he gulps in fear as he tries his best to maintain his composure.

he reaches behind him with one hand, holding your waist softly as he tries to simultaneously comfort the both of you, and uses his free hand to stuff his closed fist into his mouth in a desperate attempt to stifle his scream.

you slowly creep out from behind him, realizing how obviously fake the rat was and that you had missed all of the clues the fake doctor had given you during the rest of his monologue. oh well, you think, and look to tae.

“are you…” you laugh a little, “are you okay?” you ask incredulously as you witness his biting on his fist. he looks up, immediately dropping his fist and shoving his tough guy act back on.

he nods, clenching his jaw and trying to keep a straight face.

oh, you think. oh this is going to be fun.

you insist on splitting up, looking around a comically food bowl and finding various clues and seemingly random items.

tae is behind you on the other side of the cage. he reaches his hand inside the giant pile of fake hamster shavings, straining his neck to keep his eyes barely looking at the scene in front of him. as he combs through the shavings, his hands wrap around a small, cylindrical object. he shrieks in fear, launching back and landing on his butt before crawling over to you.

he clears his throat pointlessly, “um… something is over there…” he says, voice wavering despite his want to seem fine.

you have to bite your lip in order to hold back your laughter. you walk over, kneeling at the shavings.

he whined out a small, “ahh!!!” as he closed his eyes and turned away, only hearing you reach inside. you pull out what looked to be a kaleidoscope. you decide to have some fun.

“i got it,” you mutter, and he slowly turns back towards you. “wait what the… AHHHHH!!!!” you start screaming in faux terror when you lifted it up to look through it, throwing it across the cage. taehyun, despite his fear, rushes up next to you, holding your cheeks in his palms and squishing them together slightly.

“are you okay?” he asked, nervousness obvious in his boba eyes.

you shake your head and pout dramatically, “you look and see!!” you insist.

he sighs, pressing a kiss to your forehead and slowly going up to the kaleidoscope as though it would reach out and bite him. he brings it up to his eye, and tilts his head.

“there’s nothing?” he remarks in tiny english, to which you grow genuinely confused at. you were being dramatic, yes, but before you saw a beautiful design with letters and numbers throughout.

“what?” you walk up, looking through it. and again, darkness. you slowly lower it from your eye, bringing a hand to cover your mouth in shock. “oh my god i broke it.”

“huh?”

“TYUN I WAS BEING DRAMATIC SO I COULD SCARE YOU BUT OH MY GOD I BROKE IT.”

he stares at you in disbelief, before letting out a few giggles and looking up at one of the cameras in the room.

“can we still complete the escape room?” he asked, scratching the back of his head as he ignored your cackling.

they only hear a sigh, before being promptly kicked out of the building.

long story short: next time, just ask your beautiful boba eyed boyfriend to take you bowling. he’d still embarrass himself, but at least the props will stay intact.

comment, dm, or ask to be added to the taglist!

requests are open for both enhypen and txt!! ask to your hearts content :3

don’t forget your daily click to help palestine! (it’s completely free and just one click!)

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world-in-a-nook · 28 days ago

Text

A call for warmth...

characters : Aventurine x gn/reader relationship : established relationship art : @miikanar (edited) synopsis : Aventurine calls you after a day on a buisness trip, he misses you deeply warnings : hurt/comfort, self-loathing, identity crisis, petnames (my love, my dear,honey), bantering wc : 1k60 nda : not my native language

It was one of those nights for you both: one away at home, the other on the work trip. Since you had gotten into a relationship with Aventurine, you knew it would mostly be long distanced. You never minded. After all, technology helped you cope, and he wasn’t the type to ignore your texts or calls. Speaking of which, while you were working, a notification appearing “Incoming call from My darling. Answer?”. You excused yourself to your colleagues and went outside, leaning on the wall before answering:

“Hello darling!”

A second, then two. You frown because he isn’t always that silent. Finally, he spoke in a slurred fashion that told you he was probably drunk:

“Good evening my love. How are you?”

“I’m good Aventurine. And you? I can hear that you’ve drank…”

“Is it that obvious?” The slight tease and hint of smile reassured you slightly.

“Yes, my love. You should go to bed. Isn’t it late on Salsotto?”

You could hear his steps on the carpeted floor as he whined on the other side:

“But I wanted to talk to you! And my goodnight kiss! And my hug!”

You can’t refrain a chuckle as you slowly sat on the floor while responding:

“But we can’t, my dear. At least not for now… You’re coming home soon, don’t worry it will be alright…”

There was another moment of silence. This time you could hear him open a door and the distant city sound. He had probably gone on the balcony of his hotel room. It was part of his night routine, teasing about how you were both looking at each other from afar. You were about to scold him again and insist he should go to bed, but he spoke first:

“I miss you…”

“I miss you too my love…”

“No, no I miss you. I miss your scent, your embrace, the twinkle in your eye. I feel so strong when I’m with you, like…like I could make the biggest bets…”

“But you’re strong my dear.”

“No, I’m not.”

You frowned and unconsciously leaned forward as if trying to protest while facing him but he insisted:

“I’m not strong. I’m just a manipulator who tricked you into loving me. I’m just a lucky bastard who can’t live a normal life without being scared.”

“It’s normal to be scared Kaka—”

“Don’t call me that. Please, don’t…”

You opened your mouth to say something, yet the silence crept between you. You had known his name randomly a few years ago: when he had put offerings for Gaithra Tricolps on the chimenea’s mantle and explained it was for the day of Kakava. Though you already knew that unconsciously, it was also a gift for his family. A quick sentence on how it was linked to his name, and he went back to his playful safe, trying to evade your questions by announcing one of his many purchases. So you too, you randomly called him Kakavasha. It was a pretty name, it rolled off the tongue. And Aventurine didn’t mind, in fact it sounded comforting, a warmth of intimacy and trust from those four syllables.

Yet today, he didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t know how he didn’t want to associate with this name, with his people, with this loneliness. So you tried again but this time with another :

“Aventurine I—”

“I’m not Aventurine ! Aventurine is just-… just-…It’s just a façade, a farce!”

Aventurine of stratagems, the stone of the lucky ones. Was he even lucky? He had lost everything just to attract wealth. He was a lucky charm yet a curse for those who dared to touch, even approach him. And yet here you were, on the other side of the phone, listening to his nonsense and blurry words. At least tonight, you didn’t have to smell the blend of alcohol and his cologne, nor did you have to help him undress and fully lay in bed. You were away from him, away from his supposed luck, from his cursed wealth. It was better for you that way. But was it ?

“My love?” your voice came through the fog of emotions

At the two words, his heart fluttered with joy, and he weakly answered:

“Yes honey, I’m here…I’m-I’m still on the line…”

The words felt comforting yet sour, as if he wasn’t allowed to call you this. Someone else should take care fo you, hug you and make you feel happy. He quickly uttered:

“I’m sorry for disturbing you, honey. You must be working. I-I need to go to bed…”

“Honey, I’m alright. Please listen to me. As I said, everything will be alright. You’ll be home soon.”

He swallowed a tear and wobbled until he fell on his bed, barely taking off his designer shoes. He repeated:

“I miss you love… I miss you so much…”

“I know, I know. And you’ll be home soon. I’m not the only one who misses you, you know. I’ll have to battle with the kitties for your attention.”

He let out a chuckle before responding:

“Don’t worry, this time, you’ll be the first to have my kiss.”

“Otherwise, I won’t give you any pancakes!”

“Oh, come on! The fly is gonna be super long and I’ve missed you!”

“Then I’ll need my kiss and to be the first one! Don’t go rushing to the kitties!”

“Fine, fine. You’re a tough negotiator, you know?”

You exchanged another hearty laugh as the conversation continued. A long talk, talking about your shared life, present and future. Even if his mind had been tarnished by his insecurities, you had managed to comfort him, as always and you would continue to do so.

It’s when you asked him a question that you realised the silence on the other line of the phone. After a few seconds, you could hear his breathing slow and steady. You couldn’t stop the soft smile appearing as you realised, he had fallen asleep during the call. Usually, he couldn’t sleep when on a trip. He would tire himself out with running or any exercises. On the rare occasions you couldn’t answer the phone, he would also drink to make the thoughts go away. Yet this time, he had fallen asleep during the call because you had been his home, and he needed you more than anything.

#hsr #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail #honkai aventurine #kakavasha #star rail aventurine #aventurine x y/n #aventurine x you #aventurine x reader #hurt/comfort

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covetyou · 4 months ago

Text

in honour of the Pedro Party, I sent @goodwithcheese this ask about who would get pantsless first and who stays pantsed until the end of the party. between that, and a particular thought about party hats (and Mr. Pedro "I hate belts" Pascal), I thought it was a good idea for Dieter and his PA to make an appearance at this party. enjoy!

do it like Madonna

ao3 �� main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo & gn!reader rating: Mature (18+ only!) warnings: no smut. nudity. mention of Dieter Bravo's dick and balls. drug and alcohol use/refrence, improper use of party hats. cameos from Javi G, Oberyn, and Santos (all the P-Boys are there!) word count: 801 summary: Being Dieter Bravo's plus one to a party isn't always all it's cracked up to be, and sometimes, just sometimes, it puts a smile on your face anyway.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

It all starts when Dieter Bravo walks into the party with you, his long suffering assistant. He'd been grumbling the whole ride here about how uncomfortable he was, and he hadn't stopped now that you'd stepped through the door and said hello to a few people before making your way to the empty kitchen to grab drinks.

You barely have a drink in hand when an all too familiar jingle reaches your ears and, like every time before it, you whip around to see Dieter standing there, fiddling with his belt buckle and fighting it through the loops of his pants.

"Dee, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" he grumbles.

"This is a nice party, you can't go taking shit off. It's not that kind of party."

"I know, but you made me wear a belt. I fuckin' hate belts."

"Because your pants were falling down, Dee."

"So," he grumbles again, only just managing to whip the belt off before you can grab him, slapping it down on the counter not a second later before double fisting two drinks and leaving you stood there in the kitchen staring after him.

His pants are already sagging at the ass by the time he walks out onto the patio, his arms spread wide, drinks sloshing over onto the slab below, as people wrap themselves around him in warm greeting, before sipping from one cup and then the other.

Your own drink will have to wait. You have a belt to put back in the car and a menace of a man to keep an eye on for the rest of the night.

Except, he's nowhere to be seen when you get back inside from stashing his belt. You check the pool and just about every room, but you have a sneaking suspicion he's intentionally avoiding you.

It's a suspicion that's confirmed when you find his shoes and pants hidden in the corner of the office.

Even moreso when you find his shirt tucked behind a sofa cushion.

Dread runs through you at the thought of all the NDAs you'll have to get signed when you find his boxer shorts in the punch bowl, fishing them out only to throw them - still fruity - onto the pile of Dieter's clothes in the back of your car.

And then, twenty minutes later, you see him.

Completely naked, obviously.

Kind of.

It is a party after all.

And what's a party without party hats. It seems Dieter doesn't think it'd be much of a party at all, because he's wearing four. One is exactly where you'd expect it - directly on top of his head with the elastic pinching under his chin.

From there, it just gets worse the further down his body you look.

He has two hats strapped to his chest, each pointing a different direction even has he tries to reposition them over his nipples. And the fourth hat... well, he's somehow managed to stuff his cock and balls into the cone of the fourth hat, because at the very least you can't see anything hanging out or dangling in the sight of anyone who shouldn't be seeing it.

It's miraculous really. Even in his nudity, he's somehow managed to be modest about it.

He's grinning at you as you approach him, that giddy, too happy, look on his face that he always gives you when he's too drunk or high to care about actively pissing you off.

"Do I look like Madonna," he slurs, sticking out his pointy chest.

"Dieter, why are you wearing four party hats and not your clothes," you ask, hoping against hope the people coming out of the house haven't seen him and you can tidy this all up before they start to stare.

"Five."

"What?"

"Five party hats," he says, giving you a twirl. There you see the fifth hat, strapped against his ass with the thin elastic, looking exactly like a-

"It's a tail," he says with a giggle. "I have a tail."

And with a dozy smile his gaze trails off and lights up just as a very stoned, but very beautiful, Spaniard comes walking out of the house in his own set of party hats, followed by a man wearing nothing at all, eating from a plate of berries, and another in the tiniest, tightest Speedo you've ever seen. And, beyond that, you see a few more bare asses, and even more bare chests inside, mingling with fully clothed bodies that don't seem to care too much that your employer is comparing party hat sizes with his new friend.

You'll allow it this time, you suppose, taking a tepid sip of the same drink you've been nursing for hours, watching Dieter run off back inside, his party hat tail shaking with every jiggle of his ass. tagging my Pedro Party pals - who do you think would be pantsed vs. pantless? @ghotifishreads @sp00kymulderr @missredherring @ozarkthedog @perotovar

@undercoverpena @schnarfer @secretelephanttattoo @hellfire-state-of-mind @readingiskeepingmegoing

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x gn!reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble fanfiction #coveted fics #pedro party

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fangirlingfromdownunder · 3 months ago

Text

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 17

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. This chapter is a little heavier (as is the story going forward, but I'll include potential triggers for each chapter as relevant), so please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Potential Trigger Warnings: none

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

After waking up on the couch feeling slightly hungover and entirely dirty and stiff, I spend well over an hour in the shower, scrubbing off my makeup, washing the hair spray out of my hair and cleaning off the sweat from last night’s dancing. Feeling fully refreshed and clean, I wrap myself in a towel and lay on the bed. As I lay there staring at the ceiling the memories from last night flash back: my dance with Jensen, the ride back to the apartment, the conversation in the hall. I sit bolt upright.

“Shit.”

I jump up and search for my purse among the wedding boxes and pull out my phone but it’s flat. I take it back to my room and plug it in and wait impatiently for the screen to light up. I tap the screen multiple times, despite knowing it won’t speed up the process. While I wait, I pace around the room. I try to sort through everything that was said last night. I suddenly remember the plan I made.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

I run back to my phone on the bedside table and tap the screen impatiently three more times. When the screen finally lights up, I unlock it and scroll through for notifications, but there are none. I check the time: 10:47 am. I toss up with my options. Do I text Jensen and call it all off? I know I won’t get another chance if I do, he’s sure to get fed up with my hot and cold attitude. So, do I instead call Stewie and ask permission to use the cafe after close? But how could I possibly ask for or explain that. So, instead, do I wing it and hope for the best? Sneak in and clean up and lock up after and hope he never finds out? How could I possibly pull that off? I know there’s cameras on the street.

I start to pace again as I begin to hyperventilate. What the hell have I gotten myself into? The one person I want to call and vent to, I know I can’t. Even if we are back to normal again, I refuse to disturb her honeymoon with my stupidity and drama. I pick my phone up and scroll through my contacts looking for anyone who could possibly comfort me and give me answers in Stella’s absence. I hover over Jensen’s contact, considering calling the whole thing off, but I force myself to scroll past it. I then hover over my mom’s contact. Just as I’m about to call her, an email notification pops up at the top of the screen. I go to push it away but it catches my eye.

AUDITIONS FOR NEW YORK’S PRODUCTION OF GREASE OPEN AT 10am WEDNESDAY!

I tap on it to read the full email and I notice it’s fully addressed to me and time stamped at 5am. Is this the audition Stella submitted me for? We’ve watched the film together almost as many times as Moulin Rouge, so it must be. How is this the only reminder? I scroll through to the spam folder and low and behold there are three other emails informing me of the audition pages, date and time. I open the script and scan through it. Thanks to Stella’s surprise and the stupid auto spam folder, I now only have a few days to memorise the lines and figure out how I want to deliver them, pick a song to sing and prepare to learn the choreography. Sure, I could skip it, but I promised Stella, plus, it’s the role of a lifetime if I get it. There’s a reason there are four résumé emails sitting in my drafts; those job descriptions don’t make my heart race the way auditions and broadway do.

Now with a new focus, I throw on a pair of warm jeans, a sweater, boots and brush my hair. As I grab my favourite bag and search for my library card the still-blank NDA catches my eye. I leave it there as I rearrange my everyday wallet to put my ID and money back in from the fancy wedding purse. On the way out the door I grab an apple and rush downstairs, onto the street and over a few blocks to the library.

Inside the massive, historical-looking building I make a bee-line for the computer room. I log in to my emails and send the document to the printer. After logging out I take my pages and head to one of the private rooms to familiarise myself with the lines. I read through them in my head a few times before trialling them out loud.

“Oh, Danny, you don’t know how much this means to me! Now I know that you really care about me … What’s gotten into you? I thought we were just going to be steadies! I’ve never seen you like this. Just because you give me your ring doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want. I’m still the same girl as last summer. I’m sorry, Danny. Maybe we should just forget the whole thing.”

As I read the words aloud, my accusation sparks through my mind. I feel like an idiot for accusing him of coming all this way just to get laid. I collapse on a beanbag and hang my head between my knees. After a few minutes of feeling sorry for myself, I force myself to stand up and keep practising the lines. At least for now I need to forget myself and channel her sweet, innocent and pure nature.

I read through the monologue with various intonations until my throat feels dry and hoarse. My stomach growls loudly and I stuff the slides into my bag and wander out onto the street where it’s lightly snowing; but not the nice type of fluffy white snow, it’s more like freezing rain. I groan as I traipse through the puddles towards the cafe. The second I pull open the glass door, the warmth and smell of fresh bread envelops me. I sigh happily as I wipe my feet and make my way over to the glass display case to see what’s still available so late in the day. Once I finally get to the front of the line I order a warm almond croissant and a mocha latte.

As I sit down and wait for my colleague to bring over my order I pull out the NDA. I continue reading through it. As I read, the food gets delivered and I savour each delicious bite as it warms me from the inside. When I finally get to the end of final page I reach down to pull out a pen, but as I sit up my elbow makes contact with the mug and the last mouthful of dark liquid spills over the open document. I try dabbing at it with napkins. But that just makes it worse; smudging the words and tearing the drenched pages. I sigh as I drop my head to the table in defeat.

I don’t notice the room empty out around me until my coworker comes over to clear the table. He hovers closeby taking in my desheveled state. “I take it your friend’s wedding went well?” I look up at him confused. “Stilll battling that hangover?” He says as he gestures at his head.

“Oh…Yeah, I guess. It’s been a big few weeks.”

“Yeah, I bet.” He stands there kinda awkwardly for a minute.

I finally realise what he’s waiting for. “Oh, sorry, I’ll let you clean up. Sorry.”

“Thanks.” As I pack away my things I hear the door bell jingle and my colleague walks back towards it and says. “Hey, sorry, we’re actually closed.”

“That’s not what the sign says,” I hear an instantly recognisable deep voice jest.

I look over at the two men conversing in the doorway and I will the ground to swallow me whole. I know I’m a mess. I had meant to go home and change, especially after the rain, but then the coffee and…I sigh. I swing my bag over my shoulder as I stand up straight to face the music. Jensen looks over at me as he notices movement. He gives me a small smile before a look of concern sets in. I make my way over to them. Not sure how else to defuse and take charge of the situation I make the most of my seniority over my coworker. “Hey Jonah, could you pack up the leftover food for this man please? Just as an apology for the inconvenience. The sign should be flipped first, if it’s not we’re still technically open,” I say as I walk past Jensen to flip the sign. I feel a little bad for being harsh on Jonah, I know he’s just finished high school and has only been doing solo closes for about a month, but I had to learn things the hard way too, so I brush it off.

“Right, sorry. Of course.”

Once Jonah finishes packing up the last few remaining pastries he places them on the counter. Jensen pulls out his card, “How much, man?”

Jonah glances over at me briefly before nervously starting to punch in the numbers.

“Did you already close the till?” I ask as I lean against the counter to glance at the machine. He nods awkwardly, clearly scared. I grab the box and hand it to Jensen. “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, sir. These are on the house. Enjoy.”

Jonah’s jaw drops. “But…Stewie, he said…” he glances nervously at Jensen and then back at me. He drops his voice, “We can’t afford anymore handouts…We need…”

“They just go in the bin or to the homeless otherwise, what’s the harm?”

“Not anymore, he said we have to wrap them up and sell them discounted next day. New year, new rules”

“New year, new rent increase, more like…Shit. Alright…If he notices, tell him he can take it off my next pay.”

Jensen pipes up from behind me, “Is there a problem? I can pay, I don’t mind.” I shake my head. He pulls his wallet back out and sorts through the notes. “How much would it have cost? Can you ring that up?”

Jonah looks at me for confirmation and I nod at the till. He punches in the numbers and reads out the final price: $42.87. Jensen pulls out a fifty and places it on the counter.

“I can’t give you change, sir.”

“Consider it a tip.”

The younger boy looks at me at a loss at what to do. “I open tomorrow, put the fifty in the drawer, write down the prices and I’ll sort it. You good to finish closing on your own?”

He nods, “Thanks.”

I nod and follow Jensen outside. A few steps away he says, “You really had to work today?”

“No, I just…I get discounts there, though it sounds like that’s gonna stop soon. It’ll be such a shame to see this place go. Stewie’s so passionate.”

He leans against a building and I join him. “You don’t get enough trade?”

“We do, especially since those photos got leaked, rent’s just insane and the cost of ingredients. But you didn’t come all this way to discuss how I might lose my job.”

He then notices the wad of dirty scrunched up paper in my hands. He gestures his head towards it, “You need a bin?”

I sigh and hold it up. “It was an accident, I swear! I was going to sign it, I promise!”

“Is that the NDA?” He bursts out in laughter. “After everything, it’s a bit late for that, don’t ya think?” He tears it in half and then walks towards a bin on the corner. I follow him in disbelief.

“But…”

He shakes his head. “Don’t sweat it.” He holds up the box of food. “You got somewhere we can eat this? Since we got kicked out of where you told me to meet you.”

I know that no where else in the area will let us bring outside food in; everyone’s struggling just as much as each other. A cold breeze blows past and I shiver. Without saying anything I let my tired, freezing body and feet lead the way.

Once Jensen recognises the apartment he asks, “We gonna eat in the hall or you gonna invite me in tonight?”

“Sorry ‘bout that. You can come in as long as you promise not to comment on the mess.”

“How messy are we talkin’?”

I don’t comment as we get into the elevator.

I turn up the thermostat before quickly doing my best to tidy up as Jensen stands in the doorway taking in the tiny apartment. I freeze as I notice him staring. “I bet your hotel room’s bigger than this…I know it’s not much…”

He quickly pushes off the door and comes over to me. “No, No…It’s…It’s nice…cute.”

I roll my eyes and walk away to tidy off the coffee table. “I’m sorry, I just, I didn’t have any plans for tonight. I wasn’t thinking. I just…I don’t know. I guess I was drunk and exhausted…”

He places the box on the now-clear table and reaches for my hand. “I don’t need big plans.” He pulls back and runs his hands through his hair and sighs, “See, this is why it was easier when you didn’t know who I was. Now you have all these preconceived ideas about me…I liked the way you looked at me and spoke to me before.”

Seeing him feeling just as uncomfortable and nervous as me helps me relax a little. “Me too…”

“I wanted you to know me as Jensen, not,” he shakes his head, “Not Supernatural star Jensen Ackles.”

I sit down on the couch. “But that is part of who you are. But maybe…Maybe I could get to know both?”

He sits down on the other end of the couch leaving a space between us. “I’d like that.” A silence fall over the room. Wanting to ease the tension, he leans forward and opens the box. “So is this stuff any good? You were trying to give it away so?”

“It’s not Stewie’s, but yeah. I just…I know I’m a mess, I was trying to, I don’t know…seem like I was in control. I missed the last team meeting due to wedding stuff and so I didn’t know the rules had changed. I always used to bring home the leftovers.” I sigh, “There I go again, showing off how desperately poor I am.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that.” He leans over and takes my hand again. “Please, don’t be ashamed of that. We all travel at our own pace, and there’s a lot of luck in who gets where in life. A few different decisions and I might still be there too.”

Getting emotional at his words, I pull away and change the subject. “You should try this.” I reach over the take out a peanut butter and apple strudel and tear it in half and hold out one half to Jensen. It’s not till after I take a bite that I realise about nut allergies. “Wait! You’re not allergic to nuts right?”

He shakes his head and smiles as he takes a big bite and chews slowly savouring the flavours. “Peanut…Cinnamon…Apple…” I nod. As he looks he me he chuckles. I wipe my face on my already soiled sleeve, the scent of old coffee fills my nose. He notices the look on my face and places his clean hand on my knee. “Hey, hey, stay with me. Right here.”

“I’m a mess…” Tears start to well up, and Jensen scoots over closer. “I wish you could see me how I was last night…before the third or fourth glass…During our first dance.”

“Hey, we were both a mess when we met. A bit of spilt coffee won’t scare me off. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“It’s not just that…”

“Tell me then. Talk to me, that’s why I’m here. I promise I won’t leave…unless you want me to.”

Completely exhausted and unable to hold in my emotions as he rubs soft circles on my back, I tell him all the things I would generally vent to Stella about. I tell him about my recent mental health struggles, my failed auditions and how I have have one coming up in a few days, how the cafe’s going downhill, how I feel like such a failure. He listens intently without offering advice or telling me how I could do things differently. And when I finish talking, I surprisingly feel lighter. He wipes his thumbs along my wet cheeks.

His eyes glance down at my lips but he quickly flicks them back up to meet my gaze. “You’re not a mess. You’ve just been through a lot.” I want to make a self-depricating comment but it dies in my throat as I look at him. He puts some space between us but takes my hands softly. “You’ve been doing so much on your own for so long…But if you’ll let me I’d gladly help halve your load. Even if it’s just by giving you someone to unload on like this.”

“Jensen…”

As if he can sense me trying to pull away, he changes the subject. “Tell me more about this audition. You should be preparing for that.” I pull away to go and get the slides. When I sit back down he sees the title on the front page. “Sandy, right? Or are you more a Frenchie girl?”

“I mean, Sandy’s the dream right?”

“So, that makes me Danny Zuko. The T-Bird chasing his Pink Lady.” I shake my head as I blush and bite my lip. “Yeah, you got this. There’s Sandy, right there. Alright, monologue or are you gonna be reading with someone?”

“Monologue.”

“How do you feel about that? I prefer reading off someone, I can feed off their energy.”

“You never know who you’re gonna get paired up with though. At least with a monologue I can fully prepare.”

“Perfect then. You wanna practice?”

“In front of you? No.”

He stands up, holds his hand out to me and I take it, he pulls me up and leads me to where there’s a bit more space behind the couch. “Alright, you don’t have to read for me, but loosen up for me. You’re stiff and nervous, which is completely normal, but I want you to ace this one. Is it a standard three-part broadway audtion?”

I nod. “Monologue, song, choreo.”

He pulls out his phone. “What song?”

“Jensen…I…”

“Hey, it’s just you and me, just like last night on the dancefloor. Just focus on me. What song?”

“I haven’t picked yet…”

“Let’s loosen up with this one then,” he presses play and an upbeat tune begins to play as he places his phone on the back of the couch and takes both of my hands and makes me move with him. He looks straight into my eyes as he sings along with John Travolta.

“I got chills, they're multiplying

And I'm losing control

'Cause the power you're supplying

It's electrifying”

Despite Olivia Newton John starting to sing her verse, I don’t. “Come on, Darlin’. You can do it. I know you know it.”

“I need a glass of wine for this.”

He shakes his head as he smiles at me and leads us into the next verse. His carefree nature calms me and I give myself over to the music. By the end of the song we’re both laughing and a little out of breath as he pulls me into his chest.

“See, I knew you knew it! You sing like that in the audition and you’re sure to get the part.”

I lean my head back to look up at him and he can’t help but tilt his head down and close the gap. As if by pure instinct, I kiss back. It’s short and sweet as he pulls back gently, but it’s been so long since I’ve kissed anyone, it feels like a lifetime.

He whispers against my lips, “Please, no more running…Say you’ll be mine.” I sober up quickly and pull back, he instantly loosens his grip so I can break free. He puts his hands up in surrender, “I’m sorry. Was that too fast? I didn’t…”

“It’s been a long time for me…I need you to know that. And certain fears don’t just disappear. I can’t just jump into it like you want me to. This won’t work if you want or need more now. I’m not ready. I refuse to string you along anymore. And I don’t expect you to wait for me.”

“I’m not in a rush. I just got caught up in the moment. We can take this as slow as you need to, I want to wait for you, but I don’t want you to disappear on me. Don’t run, don’t ghost me. If something’s not working for you, tell me.”

“Jensen, you don’t…”

“I know. I said I want to. I don’t mind keeping my hands to myself if that’s what you need. Once I start filming again, we’ll be back on the phone anyway, and I just know that our conversations have quickly become some of the best minutes of my day and I felt lost when they stopped. I mean, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to kiss you again, but I won’t, not unless you want me to.”

I grab Jensen’s phone and pause the soundtrack, I stare at his lockscreen, it’s a picture of him with a beautiful white mare. I run my thumb over the horse’s nose, and breathe out, “Snowball…”

He tilts his head, “What was that?”

I shake my head and hold his phone out to him. “The horse, she reminds me of mine. Snowball. She’s one of the things I miss most about Texas…I miss riding, I miss the outdoors, hiking…”

“It’s a great state. New York’s not so bad, but I’d love to do all of that with you.” He tentatively steps closer and holds his hand out between us. I place my hand in his. “You tell me what you’re okay with. We move at your pace.”

“Thank you. Really, thank you for understanding.”

“Any decent guy would. But you’re worth waiting for, I can tell. You overthink a lot, but in the few carefree moments when you finally let down your walls…” He looks into my eyes. “Can I…” I nod. He tilts his head but waits for me to close the gap. He doesn’t attempt to lead me or deepen it, he just follows my lead and signals until I pull back. “See, I knew I wanted to do that again.” As my eyes blink open I notice the clock on the wall just past his face.

“It’s late…” I take a step back and look around and notice the still-full box of pastries. “I’m so sorry, I’m such a terrible host. You had half a strudel and I never even offered you a drink.”

He pulls me back to him. “I didn’t ask either. You can drop the bricks and mortar, Darlin’. I’ve enjoyed tonight.”

“I’m sure you got more than you expected, with my whole meltdown and all. I’m so sor-.”

He cuts me off with a soft peck. “I wanted you to talk to me. I’m sorry it came in the form it did, I didn’t mean for you to get so upset. But we all get emotional sometimes, and that’s okay. And even when I have to go, I’ll only be a call or text away. I’m happy to be a shoulder.”

“When? When are you-” I ask, but I’m cut off by his phone buzzing in his pocket. He tries to ignore it but I step back and lean against the back of the couch. “It’s probably your driver. You should get that.”

He gives me an apologetic smile before stepping away to answer. I use the time to put the pastries in the fridge and tidy up as I try not to eeves drop.

Once he hangs up, he comes over and pulls me back into his arms. “I fly out Tuesday morning. There’s a few things I need to do back in Austin before going back to Vancouver. Can I see you again tomorrow night?”

“I’ve gotta open the store in the morning. And I have to prepare for this audition…”

“I’m only here one more night. Please. I’ll help you prep or we can sit and watch movies. I don’t mean to push you, it’s just…”

“It could be months before we can be in the same room again, I get it. As long as you don’t mind staying cooped up here again?”

“Not at all. I’ll bring dinner.” He slowly leans in as he gauges my reaction. Just before our lips meet he softly says, “Clif’s waiting downstairs. I should go.”

“You should,” I whisper back before closing the gap.

He eventually forces himself to pull away. “Text me when you finish work?”

I nod, “I can do that.”

“Good night, Darlin’.”

“Good night, Jensen.”

I can tell he wants to make a teasing comment at my use of his name but holds himself back as he strides towards the door.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,

@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92, @smoothdogsgirl

#jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic

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