#jealous!dieter bravo

[alwaysmicado]

Are you happy now?

3k words | 18+ NSFW | Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings: a little angst, light smut (18+ MDNI, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, voyeurism), age gap (unspecified), drug use, Dieter being a menace Summary: You unknowingly cockblock Dieter at a party before he watches you having sex. It's a whole thing. A/N: Well, well, well... if it isn't the consequences of Dieter's own actions. Takes place after the breakup, but before he shows up at your apartment in It's always been you. @Anon: I hope this fulfills your wish for toxicity... Thanks for reading! 🖤

Thinking of you… I wish you were here with me 

The loud buzz of your phone startles you. You immediately take it out of your purse to look at the message. Of course it’s from Dieter. He’s been texting and calling you every single day since you broke up. It's always something along the lines of I miss you, please talk to me, let me make it up to you, blah, blah, blah.

He didn't care about your feelings when he was fucking someone else a few weeks ago, did he? So why is he pretending to care now?

You hate his texts. You hate that he's not leaving you alone, continuing to rub salt into the gaping wound in your heart with every message he sends you.

Most of all though, you hate how badly you want to give in. You’re aching for his touch and the beautiful lies he’d whisper in your ear. He’d change for you, do it right this time. You could be so happy…

“You okay, babe?” You look up at Ben and see the concern in his blue eyes. You put your phone back in your purse and nod quickly. “Yeah, all good. I'm just not a big fan of parties, but I'm really glad you came with me,” you give him a forced smile to stop him from asking any more questions about your well-being. You're tired of lying.

He puts his arm around your waist and kisses your temple. “I'm happy you asked me and I'm sure we're gonna have a good time. We always do, don't we,” he murmurs in your ear and slides his hand along your dress to playfully grab your ass. You smirk and hum in agreement. 

It's true, being with Ben is always easy and fun. You've made it clear from the beginning that you're not interested in anything remotely serious and he doesn't seem to mind. You usually fuck, order food, get high and sometimes fall asleep together. He’s nice to you, makes you feel wanted and respects your boundaries.

You really wish you didn't think of Dieter every time Ben touches you. You know it's unfair and all kinds of fucked up, but so is your whole life right now...

And it's not even like Ben is doing anything wrong, far from it. He’s actually matching your kinkiness quite nicely. Eating you out on his desk at work, fingering you under the table at the little Italian place you guys like to eat at, fucking your mouth while he’s on a Zoom call with your boss, the list goes on. The problem isn't Ben.

It's you and your stupid heart. You gave it to Dieter and even though that was arguably the dumbest decision you’ve ever made, you can’t take it back.

Fuck, you’re pathetic.

“I need a drink,” you sigh. And with that you two make your way to the bar. 

The party is in full swing with music pulsating through the air and colorful lights dancing on the walls. Your eyes scan the room filled with partygoers happily chatting, flirting and drinking. You quickly find Katie, your friend and hostess of the party. She's a fairly prominent agent here in LA and none other than the person who introduced you and Dieter over a year ago - in this house. At a party. 

You remember going out on the balcony for some fresh air, since people snorting coke left and right, smoking their joints and starting to get handsy with each other was making you woozy. Completely mesmerized by the twinkling lights of the city, you didn't hear the glass door slide open. “Hey beautiful,” Dieter greeted, leaning on the railing next to you. “Also had enough of the circus downstairs?” “Yeah,” you nodded. “Can I stay here with you for a bit?” He turned to face you, his beautiful dark eyes searching yours. You never stood a chance. 

Katie comes up to you to introduce herself to Ben and catch up with you briefly before she is being dragged away by a nervous looking young man in a sharp suit. “My new client,” she whispers, “he’s like a puppy. Can’t be alone for more than two minutes.” She rolls her eyes dramatically and you laugh. “Actors are weird, man,” Ben chuckles and shakes his head. You chug the rest of your drink and snort.

You have no idea. 

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Dieter looks at his phone and furrows his brow. Left on read, as always. At least you still look at his messages, he supposes. Probably just need a bit more time to cool off. He sighs and puts the phone back into his pocket. 

He’s so fucking bored with the conversation he’s finding himself in right now. Sitting in the lounge area with a bunch of people he vaguely knows, his third glass of whiskey in hand, he just nods absentmindedly at whatever his co-star is babbling about. Something about her husband fucking the nanny. Dieter couldn’t care less, he’s at Katie’s party only out of obligation to his own agent. Good for his image and promo of his new movie, she said. 

You’re going to show up, be polite and keep your nose clean. Oh and Dieter, try not to blow anyone’s husband this time, okay? 

Being good is absolutely draining and he’s been trying so hard since you left. Not drinking enough to black out, doing coke on the weekends only, fucking his fist exclusively, giving you the space you need. Of course he begged Katie to tell him where you live as soon as he realized you weren’t coming back home, but he’s kept his distance so far. Fighting the urge to be close to you with every fiber of his being. He really is trying to be better for you.

But that’s not enough tonight. 

Not when the perky brunette next to him keeps throwing herself at him so blatantly. Batting her eyelashes, pushing her chest out so her tits almost spill out of her dress, caressing Dieter’s thigh, purring into his ear what a big fan she is…

“I’d let you do anything to me, you know,” she coos while moving her hand closer to his crotch, her warm breath on his neck making him whimper. “You could snort coke off my pussy and then fuck my ass, baby,” she whispers while trailing soft kisses down his neck. Dieter’s cock twitches at the thought. He closes his eyes and feels a comfortable buzz, enjoying the sensation of her soft lips on his neck and her hand near his balls.

“C’mere, pretty girl,” Dieter murmurs before pulling her close and capturing her lips with his. He moans into her warm mouth and bucks his hips to chase her touch. “Fuck baby, you’re killing me,” he groans, completely lost in the haze of the alcohol, the happy pills he sprinkled in earlier and the girl’s hand now rubbing his cock over his pants. “Can’t wait anymore. Let’s go, c’mon,” he pants breathlessly, getting up and making his way through the crowd .

He leads the girl upstairs and out onto the dimly lit wraparound balcony. Fucking outside always does it for him - something about feeling free and uninhibited.

“You wanna be bad, angel? Want a movie star to fuck you, huh?” Dieter presses her against the corner wall with his body, pushing his thigh between her legs, tilting her chin up to look into her eyes. Her pupils are blown and her mouth is slightly open when she nods. He grabs her chin a bit tighter, slowly tracing her soft lips with his thumb. “Say it, baby. Tell me you want my cock.” She looks at him with bedroom eyes, moving her head to suck on his thumb, slowly circling it with her tongue. Dieter hisses at the feeling of her warm wet mouth, his thigh pressing into her core.

“I want your cock so bad, Dieter, please I need it so much,” she whines and starts fumbling with his belt. “Fuck yeah, you do,” he murmurs, pulling his pants down just enough to free his hard cock. She moans at the sight and Dieter chuckles, always very amused at the reactions his dick gets.

It’s a fucking work of art, so he’s not surprised. 

“You wanna blow me, hm?” he asks while slowly stroking his length. “Yeah, Dieter, anything you want,” she coos. “Alright, baby, but don't say I didn't warn you. I ain't gonna be gentle. Now, be good and get on your knees for me.” She immediately lowers herself onto the floor, making sure to keep eye contact while he's cupping the back of her head and stroking her hair. “Good girl,” he purrs, “now get started, baby.” 

He doesn’t have to tell her twice, she’s so eager to please him. Blowing Dieter Bravo on a balcony at a Hollywood party? Fuck yeah. This is the closest she’s ever gotten to taste fame - literally. 

“Fuck baby, just like that,” Dieter groans, rocking his hips back and forth steadily, spurred on by the loud slurping and gagging sounds coming from the girl’s pretty mouth. The night is quiet around them, the muffled sounds of music and laughter coming from the party downstairs the only other thing Dieter hears when he closes his eyes. 

Until it isn’t. He hears a sliding door open around the corner, followed by the clicking sound of high heels.

•───��─⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Can’t believe the prettiest girl at the party wants to be alone with me,” Ben quips, showing you his irresistible smile. “Oh, you’re underestimating your allure, Mr Jones,” you murmur into his ear, whimpering at the feeling of his fingertips trailing down your back. “Follow me,” you whisper, leading him upstairs. “I'll be with you in a sec, babe,” Ben says, pressing a kiss to your cheek and then heading for the bathroom.

You need fresh air to clear your head a bit, the vodka tonics you’ve downed starting to make your head spin - and you’re itching for Ben to finally bend you over the railing and fill you up. He’s been teasing you all night, loving nothing more than to see you squirm under his touch and to hear those delicious little noises you make when you can’t take the anticipation anymore. 

The glass door slides open and you step out into the night. It’s absolutely stunning - pleasantly cool and wonderfully quiet. You walk up to the railing, take a deep breath and enjoy the view over LA.

The last few weeks have taken a toll on your physical and mental health. You’ve basically been wallowing in your own sadness save for the time you’ve spent with Ben - and even that isn’t healthy. You know you guys have an expiration date, so you’re making a conscious decision to live in the moment right now. You just need to stop wallowing and start allowing yourself to be happy again. That's it. That's all you need to do. The night is yours.

When did you start crying?

You quickly wipe your cheeks when you feel Ben’s body pressing against yours from behind, putting his hands next to yours on the railing, softly kissing your neck. “Hi,” he murmurs into your ear. “Hi,” you answer softly,  turning to pull him into a passionate kiss. 

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Dieter’s jaw drops when he sees you. You’re an absolute vision. Still the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. How did he ever get so lucky?

You’re standing by the railing, the black satin dress you’re wearing hugging your curves perfectly, your gorgeous hair slightly blowing in the summer breeze.

Dieter’s just watching you for a few seconds, enchanted, forgetting everything around him. There's only you.

When you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, he can see the single tear running down your cheek, illuminated by the lights coming from the city. He winces at the sight, instinctively wanting to embrace you and tell you that everything is going to be alright. I'll take care of you.

The girl with Dieter’s cock in her mouth taps his thigh, yanking him back to reality. He looks down at her in shock, the realization of what’s currently happening setting in.

You’re fucking here. On the same balcony he’s currently getting a blowjob a few feet away from you. What kind of fucked up karma coincidence is this?

Jesus fucking Christ. 

"What's wrong baby, I always thought you liked an audience?" the girl whispers, looking up at Dieter with big innocent eyes and a provocative smirk that doesn't match.

He immediately pulls her up by her arms and shoves her against the wall. "Shut the fuck up," he hisses, moving his face so close to hers she can feel his breath. He grips her chin roughly with his hand and tilts her head so she is forced to meet his gaze. His eyes are black. "You don't make a fucking sound and go back inside. Now."

The girl is surprised by his sudden change of demeanor, but not scared. She's been with enough assholes like him. Men who take what they want and then throw you away when they've had their fill. She just nods at Dieter and makes her way back inside quietly. She'll have another drink and then get an Uber home to disinfect her scraped knees. Why are people so cruel with one another?

Dieter is leaning against the wall, eyes closed, taking deep breaths as quietly as possible. When he feels like his brain is receiving enough oxygen again, he thinks about what to do now. Should he just walk up to you? He doesn't want to spook you, but this right here seems like a chance he shouldn't pass up. He misses you so fucking much.

His thought process is interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the floor. Dieter turns his head and his heart drops. He sees a guy approaching you. You don't flinch when he puts his face close to yours - you must know him, Dieter thinks - and then you turn around to kiss him.

Fuck.

Dieter is paralyzed. He should turn around, go inside and process the information that you've moved on. That you're fucking someone else on the balcony where he kissed you for the first time. But he can't. He just stands there, frozen, watching you arch your back and moan at someone else's touch.

You're so beautiful when you let yourself fall.

Dieter reaches into his pocket and retrieves the coke baggie. He pours a bump onto his hand and snorts it. He repeats the process until there's nothing left. His nose is burning, his head is spinning and he feels like his heart is going to explode any second. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is how he dies.

He can't look away.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Fuck, baby, I need you so bad,” Ben pants, as one of his hands holds the back of your neck and the other swiftly hikes your dress up. “You want me to fuck you out here, hm? Where anyone could see you?” You open his pants and free his hard cock. “That's it, baby, fuck,” he groans when you begin to stroke him. “Turn around for me, c'mon, hold on to the railing.”

Ben immediately sets a punishing pace, hitting your G-spot over and over again. You're so wound up that it only takes you a few of his strokes to reach your peak. Ben can feel it. “Make yourself come on my cock, baby. Want to feel you.” You only need to circle your clit a few times with your fingers before your orgasm hits you, making you scream out in pleasure.

“Fuck me, you're such a good fucking girl,” Ben growls, his thrusts becoming sloppier. “Oh fuck, I'm so close babe, tell me where.” ”Come inside me, Ben. Please, please please, want to feel your cum deep inside me,”you whine desperately. That does it for him. He comes inside you with a strangled moan, his upper body immediately collapsing onto yours.

“Jesus, babe,” Ben murmurs, kissing your neck. “You're perfect, you know that?” He pulls out of you and tucks himself back into his pants. You turn around to face him and smooth out your dress. “I wish you could see it, you know,” he says, his tone sincere. You caress his cheek and press a soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you, but I'm definitely not,” you shake your head. Why would he even think that?

Ben looks at you fondly. He knows you well enough by now to see that your self-esteem is in the gutter - a fact he can't wrap his head around. But he also knows that now is not the right time to get into it. Instead he wraps his arms around you and gently strokes your hair.

“You wanna go home?" he asks softly, “it's been a long night." You nod and let him lead you back inside.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Dieter leans against the railing, vision blurry, his phone in hand. He watches you and Ben walking out of the house and stopping to say goodbye to Katie.

He presses send and keeps his eyes on you.

Your phone buzzes and you immediately take it out of your purse to look at yet another message from Dieter. You furrow your brow.

I hope you're happy, babe

You can feel tears starting to pool in your eyes. Why is he doing this to you? Is this fun for him?

He sees you type something and his heart starts to flutter. You shake your head and delete the message, quickly putting your phone back into your purse.

Dieter smiles. He'll wait for you.

Phew, this was a lot! So yeah, Dieter knows about Ben lol 👀 Anyone wanna know how he got his black eye in It's always been you?  I love hearing from you, so feel free to come talk to me about anything! 💕

[chronically-ghosted]

i crawl home to her

rating: 18+ explicit

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: 8.2K

summary: you bring dieter home to meet your family over the holidays.

warnings/tags: discussions of food, mentions of weight gain, brief biphobia, bad family dynamics, hiding parts of yourself to make yourself more palatable, dom!Dieter when his type-A girlfriend needs him to, smut in places it shouldn’t be, a family can be two people, bad jokes, mentions of marriage and kids, one light booty smack, peep the super obvious bob's burgers reference, minimal edited, you can pry the image of dieter in ugg's from my cold dead hands

a/n: i've caved and finally added to the evergrowing pile of "Pedro boy fucks you in your childhood home". @sp00kymulderr i told you i'd get it out today -- it might be tomorrow for you, but it's not yet midnight! i present to you part 2 of merry thanksgiving nonsense2023!

🤍Masterlist

You nearly miss the exit off the gray-slushy highway because you’re trying to remember Aunt Gayle’s food allergies. 

And Uncle Rick’s preferred way of taking his coffee in the morning.

And the right detergent to use when washing your niece’s clothes, or else your sister will come after you with a hatchet. 

“Baby, you’re gnawing your fingernails bloody.” 

You blink, surprised to find your hand anywhere near your mouth, the other white-knuckling the steering wheel, and to your enormous embarrassment, he was right – you’d pulled up several hangnails, leaving tiny pink gouges, right under your immaculate holiday nails you got for the express purpose of looking presentable in all the inevitable Insta photos your sister demands every year. 

“Fuck,” you mutter and curl your fingers into your fist as if to hide temptation. From the passenger’s seat, Dieter frowns.

“Twizzler to make it better?” He spins the red, bendy candy enticingly. Your mind suddenly flashes back to the time you both got way too high on his new bong and he made the exact same motions with his dick. You had never laughed so hard in your life. 

The red candy whipping around in a circle, you groan into the steering wheel. 

“I’m turning around. This was a terrible idea.”

“What are you so nervous about?” Dieter half-way laughs. He pulls his Ugg-stuffed feet off the dashboard and sits up. Crumbs from the Starbucks Christmas sugar cookie spill off his “Kris Kingle My Jingle” sweater and onto the seat, but it’s those fucking earnest, curious eyes that always seem to rock your world. You occasionally don’t like to be touched when you’re stressed, so out of the corner of your eye, you see his hand waver before falling back in his lap. “It’s just dinner.” 

“Yeah, but it’s holiday dinner with my family. They’re all so judgy and mean and every time I come home for more than twenty-four hours, I’m reminded exactly why I fucked off to California.”

“Maybe they’re jealous you’re a hot shot director,” Dieter suggests. “Or that you have a ruggedly handsome movie star boyfriend.” Eyebrow raised, he twirls the Twizzler again and manages to bite it out of the air. You half-way expected it to smack him in the face. “They know I’m coming, right?”

You bite your lip, the last phone call with your mother still achingly heavy in your chest.

“You know what she asked when I told her I was bringing home the one and only Dieter Bravo as my boyfriend to meet my family?” You don’t need to look at him to see the furrow in his brow, the slight curve in his shoulders. You prop your elbow up against the window, rubbing your forehead with your fingers. “She asked if it was a career move. If I was dating you to get ahead in the industry . . . like I’m trying to sleep my way to the top.”

There’s a fraught silence. You listen to the wheels churn dirty black snow so you don’t have to look at him. 

“Then why in the world would you start with my dumb ass?”

Despite yourself and despite what’s coming, you smile. But you fight it, wrapping your lip up between your teeth. So he continues:

“If you really want to make it big, you gotta date someone at least forty years older than you. So, what? We’re talking seventy. But, wow, think of the money. Bet he has his dick dripped in gold just to keep it hard–,”

“Dieter!” You swat at him, smile too big to contain, and he grins, grabbing you by the wrist. “That’s terrible!”

“But I made you laugh, didn’t I?”

You smirk. “Barely. More like ha ha than a big chuckle.” 

He nips your palm, the rough hair on his chin scraping the soft skin. 

By some minor miracle and a forcible act of God, your mother is allowing you two to share a bedroom. Not out of respect for your relationship, of course, but there is simply not enough room to spare. You watch those perfect lips imprint themselves in the cup of your hand and you’ve never been more thrilled to have to share a double bed. God, you cannot be this wet before you have to look your mother in the eye. You retract your hand with a breathy exhale. 

“We don’t have to stay long,” Dieter says, a weight to his gaze that proves he hasn’t completely blown off your concern. He twists his body in the seat and crosses his arms, his shoulder pressed into the seat. He watches you with his head against the headrest. “I hate seeing you like this.” 

“I’m already on thin ice because we’re just staying two days.” You shake your head. “My sister and her family have already been there since Monday and plan to stay the rest of the week.” You inhale, hold, and exhale until you can feel your shoulders drop. “It’s just . . . I’ve worked so hard to make something of my life, to be someone I can be proud of, and it just doesn’t matter to them. They want me to marry a banker or something, and quit my job to do cutesy family blogging on Instagram. They’ve never, ever liked the real me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see something come over Dieter’s face. Not annoyance, or irritation, but as if someone kick started his brain. But it passes and he brushes the back of your hand resting over the gearshift with his fingers. 

“I like the real you,” he says quietly. “In fact, I really, really, really like the real you. I gotta keep you around. Who else is gonna remember the name of the best Chinese food place when I’m high?” 

Dieter is sweet, knows the wonders his smile can accomplish, with a twinkle in his eyes. A bit crude, a little distractible, but ultimately, well-meaning. However, he seemed physically incapable of maintaining sincerity. Which in the beginning, was also cute, but now, in a moment of crisis, it was boyish in a way that made you worried. A little scared. Like too much pressure and he’d break.

Is Dieter Bravo someone you could rely on? 

History says no. 

So, maybe you’d just carry everything. 

You smile at him and return your hand to the steering wheel.

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

The car squeals as it stops in the driveway, wheels crunching the cold ice. You look up at your childhood home with the same unease and trepidation that’s been there since childhood.

“Go let ‘em know we’re here,” Dieter says as he unbuckles his belt. There’s still crumbs in the knit of his sweater. At least his sweatpants are clean. But there’s nothing you can do about those Uggs right now– 

His hand squeezes yours, centering the universe that’s spinning like the inside of a martini shaker. You can feel the weight of his gaze press into your chest – heavy, warm, forgiving. He smiles, then slides into a smirk.

“Chillax, bro. Your vibes are not gnarly.”

You huff, trying to offer a smile that’s not a grimace. This was such a bad idea. Maybe it’s not too late to go pay for one of those mail-order boyfriends and keep Dieter in his nice California, hippie plastic wrap. 

You hear your name being called from the porch and that smile fully plummets into a grimace. Gathering from that reserve of confidence that makes you look at male writers, directors, and (yes) actors and tell them they’re idiots and get the fuck off your set, you open the door and head around the corner to the front of the house. 

Yeah, in the face of your mother, that reserve is basically a trickle.

She’s waiting for you on the porch, red dish towel in hand. 

“I thought that might be you, darling! I’d recognize that squeak from that rust bucket anywhere.” She smiles, arms wide, as you bend down to give her a hug. You've had to bend down to hug your mother for years now and you still feel about two feet tall. “How are you? You’ve been good? You look pale, but you’ve definitely been eating, haven’t you?”

She pinches your cheek as if to show you all the extra fat you have on your face. 

“Where’s Dad?” You try not to look like you’re tearing your face out of her grip and glance into the surprisingly quiet house over her shoulder. “Aren’t Emma and Dan supposed to be here?”

“Your father is out finishing his latest woodworking piece. He’s been at it for days, no matter how much I beg him to help with the food or the house. It’s all on me again to save the holidays.” 

As it is every year.

“Your sister and her family went out to get more sweet potatoes. They eat sweet potatoes in California, don’t they?”

Here it comes.

“Yes, Mom, they eat sweet potatoes.”

“Oh good, I thought it’d be considered a carb.” She frowns, hands on her hips as if you’re about to get a proper scolding. “Now you told me you’re going to be bringing your fancy actor boyfriend. Damian Bravado, right? I cooked for exactly seven people, darling, a single empty chair will throw the whole thing off!”

“Yes, Mom, my boyfriend, Dieter Bravo, is here. He’s just in the–,”

Someone, distinctly not your boyfriend, or at least not the boyfriend you left in the car, waltzes up the front steps.

Rings gone.

Earring gone.

Gloves that would make Ryan Gosling seethe with envy covering the tattoo on his hand.

His hair slicked back and curling deliciously around his ears, his dark jeans cover the laces of maroon Timberland boots. His black turtleneck clings to his wide chest, the leather jacket broken in enough to be soft, but not so used there’s tears in the seams. And, to top it all off, his cream-colored scarf curled around his throat looks like it came out of a Hallmark movie.

Maybe you are in a Hallmark movie. Maybe on the way up the porch, you slipped and banged your head and all of this is a bizarre, weirdly-erotic dream. Maybe someone actually did call in a mail-order boyfriend who looks exactly like Dieter and the real one is hog-tied in the trunk of your car. Maybe – 

You’d heard of quick costume changes, but this is ridiculous.

“Debbie!” He calls out, like they’ve been best friends for twenty years. He flourishes a wrapped bouquet of flowers, bright red against the white snow, and hands them to her after bouncing up the steps. His cheeks are tinged pink, as if he’d run the block, but without a drip of sweat on him, he’s simply glowing with what could be presumed as the holiday spirit. 

To your never-ending and horrific surprise, your mother squeals as she takes the flowers. 

“Poinsettias! My –,”

“Favorite, I know.” You stumble out of the way when he leans down and kisses her on her cheek. “And they’re fake, so you can reuse them next year. But you’d never know it at $300 a pop.”

Okay, yes, this is a clone of your boyfriend, a walking holiday Ken doll – Dieter never, ever brags about money. 

“I’m not a banker or anything, but I like to spoil my girls.” 

The bastard winks at you. 

Your mother has turned to gooey, drippy putty in his hands. She’s redder than the hand towel and the poinsettias combined. She flounces, flutters, eyes springing back and forth between the ruby-red flowers in her hands and Dieter’s achingly handsome face – one that hasn’t dimmed that thousand gigawatt smile since he first arrived. 

“Oh, oh my goodness – well, this is just lovely – it’s so nice to finally meet you – I can’t believe she’s been hiding you from us all this time – please, please come in, you must be freezing!”

She backs into the house, still staring at the flowers, then as if she hadn’t been living here for the past fifteen years of her life, she bounces towards the dining room, then on a quick turn, heads for the kitchen, then turns again to the hallway closet. 

“Oh gracious – where did I put – it must be – come in and shut the door behind you – you know where your room is, darling, I’ll be back in just a second, I just have to – ah, these are spectacular –”

A door down the hallway finally swings shut and muffles your mother’s insane rambling. 

So dazed, you don’t see him move until he’s pressed you up against the glass etching of the door, his hand palming your hip and the other diving to cup the back of your neck. He tugs you down into his mouth before you have time to blink.

Jesus Christ, mint? His breath smells like mint??

God, he even fucking kisses like a Hallmark Prince. His mouth pulls you into him and your brain whites out – careless of the little whimper you make, careless of the fact that literally any one of your family members could walk in right now, careless that you’re teetering into him as if on string. Your breath flutters down his throat and he huffs through his nose. The tips of his fingers are chilly enough that you shiver at his touch.

He edges the bottom of your lip with his tongue before pulling back and tightening his grip in your hair. 

And there’s that Dieter smirk you are all too intimately familiar with. 

“How’m I doing?” He mutters. His gaze flickers between your eyes, your nose, and your kissed-pink lips. “I’d say I got Mama Bear on my side.”

Maybe it’s a good thing he isn’t always like this. Between the fresh breath scent in his mouth, the fragrance of his much-too expensive cologne permeating your senses, and his thick thigh shoved under your groin, you are embarrassingly boneless in his arms. You pluck your fingers over the soft leather collar at the back of his neck, just as much to inspect the jacket, as much as to release more of that delicious smell. 

“Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?” You mutter, smirking, as you wind your fingers into his curls. “Spoil my girls, what the fuck was that?”

“Ah, ha, ha, ha,” he gloats as he lowers his head to your neck. You expect a warm kiss in the length of skin you’ve exposed to him, but instead his teeth lightly tease your throat above your pulse point and you feel your knees buckle as your face warms. “I can be very charming when I want to be.” He squeezes your ass as if to make a point. 

You hold back a moan, flattening it to a shudder in your chest. You can feel his grin in your neck and he shifts you, pulls you closer and compresses you deeper into the wooden door. You can feel your conscious thought melting through your fingers so you blink, lick your lips, try to wiggle out from under his teeth.

“This isn’t a Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner. This is Invasion of the Body Snatchers.” You gasp his name into the foyer of your childhood home when he licks you from the curve of your shoulder up under the soft place below your ear. Your hips jerk unconsciously, baser instincts seeking out the friction of his jeans, and you push against his biceps. “Dieter, she’ll be back any minute. She can’t – can’t see us like this.”

You’ve never heard him chuckle like the way he does, so darkly pleased with himself.

“Once I’m done schmoozing her, your father, your sister and her – what did you call him – cardboard husband, we’ll fuck in front of them and they won’t say a word.”

“Dieter!” You shove him just as your mother returns from the kitchen.

She frowns and you feel the scolding coming, the scent of Dieter so obviously entangled in you. You might as well be wearing a sign that reads, hi, yes, I’ve been recently groped why do you ask?

“Did you forget where your room is? Honestly, what would you do without me? Now, follow me and I’ll remind you.”

Schmooze he did. 

From the same magical bag of weirdly specific and perfect gifts, Dieter presents a bottle of Buffalo Trace bourbon and two very illegal, but very Cuban cigars. Your father forgets to scowl in the face of some of the most expensive bourbon in the world. 

For your sister, he somehow senses that material objects won’t go as far, so he endears himself to your niece first. Asking her questions about her doll, about her school, what she likes to play with her friends and how crazy it is that hopscotch is his favorite game too. 

In twenty minutes, he’s on his hands and knees, black sleeves pulled up over his immaculate forearms, and etching out a hopscotch board with pink chalk. He nods and interjects while your niece runs around him, demanding a dragon in the corner, or a crown in another, and suddenly your biological clock starts blaring like an air-raid siren. 

“He’s so good with kids,” your sister mutters to you from the door to the garage. A single glance tells you she’s under the same effect of watching a hot man play with a child. You’re so aroused and confused you can’t even eye her with jealousy. 

“Mhmm hmm.” 

“When are you going to have some of your own?” 

And you’re back inside before you can see the look on his face as he lifts his head.

It would be insulting to call it eerie. 

It’s not like he’s physically incapable of smelling clean, or dressing nice, or even combing his hair. You’ve seen him do it time and time again for galas and interviews. Hell, that time he took you on a date to get sushi in the tallest building in Toronto, he didn’t look that much different from how he does right now . . . and yet . . .

You feel your face scrunch in suspicion when he remembers your aunt’s food allergies, how your Uncle Rick likes his after-dinner coffee. 

Dieter might forget to put on pants, but he’s never forgotten the important dates of your relationship. He remembers what you were wearing the first night you kissed, but can’t remember to take out the pizza before it burns in the oven. 

This, this Dieter, feels wrong. 

You watch him laugh with your father and uncle by the fireplace with brandy in his hands as you work with your mother and sister to unwrap a dozen saran-wrapped pies. He comes by later and takes the stack of plates from your mother’s hands and assures her he’ll do the dishes, as thanks for such a wonderful meal.

This Dieter Bravo needs a smoking jacket and uses words like “wonderful meal”. 

Initial surprise at his near magical transformation from the car this morning long gone, you sit with this uncomfortable feeling, as everyone around you eats pie and laughs and looks all the part of a fucking Hallmark card for “joyful festivities”, long enough to finally understand it for what it is:

Anger. 

Shame. Guilt. 

Hot embarrassment. 

You look at the man who’s invaded your boyfriend’s body as he charms the pants off your mother and father, and ugly, heavy embarrassment boils over in your chest. Washing the knife in your throat down with your fourth glass of wine all night, you excuse yourself with the last bit of breath in your lungs before ducking upstairs, then stumbling to your childhood bathroom you once shared, and share again, with your sister. 

You lock the door forcefully in lieu of slamming it shut and sit down on the tile, your head against your knees. Rationally, there’s a part of you that knows this shouldn’t affect you like it is. Women would kill for a boyfriend like this – your sister very nearly jumped him in the garage. 

But that’s just the thing – this isn’t your boyfriend. This isn’t the man you spend your days and nights with and this isn’t the man you fell in love with. This isn’t the Dieter you want to show the world. 

A soft knock comes from the other side of the door and it breaks you out of your self-deprecating spiral. 

“Just a second,” you call out as you stand. You flush the empty toilet (this night is filled with ruses after all) and twitch the faucet on for two seconds. But when you open the door, you’re immediately cowed back in. 

“Dieter, what are you–,”

“Are you okay?” Beneath the veneer of the Million Dollar Man, his eyes are soft, coaxing the anxiety out of you. “You looked pale when you left.” He tucks an escaped strand of hair over your ear, watching how his fingers brush up against your skin. He gently tangles his fingers in your hair as he pulls back. He smirks. “Mom’s dressing wasn’t that bad.” 

White-hot shame blooms again and you turn your head from him, tugging your hair out of his reach. You catch his hurt expression out of the corner of your eye. 

“I’m fine. Just needed some air.” 

“You’re not a good liar. I’ve told you that.” His voice is clipped. Not irritated, but not interested in lengthy bouts of misdirection either.

“Well, I don’t feel like bearing my problems to Mr. Perfect.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He crosses his arms, shoulders swelling in the space of the tiny bathroom, and he leans on the sink. 

“It means you’re a better liar than me so I guess you’ll have to do it for the both of us.” 

You know it’s ridiculous to try and move around him – but maybe this Dieter wouldn’t care if you left angry. Even sober, he could manhandle you without a second thought, but between the heat of the drink in your throat and he’s blurred at the edges, you know you’re fighting a losing battle.

“Dieter, please, just –,”

He stands his ground, effectively blocking the door, and you huff, pushing up against his waist with your hands, your teeth bared behind your lips. He steps back, you think you’ve won a mile, but then his hands grasp so firmly around your elbows, your entire consciousness is pulled into where his fingers curl against your skin.

He gently, but seriously, shakes you slightly.

“Stop fighting me. You tell me what I did wrong and we’ll talk about this.”

The past two weeks of dread, and fear, and worry, and shame – shame that this is your family, this is how you go to pieces around them, this is all you can offer him – slam into your chest and your breathing hitches. The fingers at his chest dig into his shirt. The fourth glass of wine makes your eyes hot and tight.

“This isn’t you.” 

You grimace in the bright light of the bathroom and your confession. But beyond your closed eyes, his demeanor hasn’t changed. 

“What’s not me?”

A tear slips out the moment you open your mouth, your throat closing and gagging on your words. You swallow and try again, eyes peeling open to stare at the curve of his shoulder. 

“You’re Dieter Bravo. You dry-clean your favorite pajamas to preserve the material. You do astrology charts of people who piss you off to find out how to best get back at them. You paint until four in the morning and sleep in our bed until I wake you up–,”

Your heart thrusts its way into your airways and cuts off your ability to speak. You know you’re not making a lot of sense, but all you can think of right now is how much you want to peel this fucking black, Steve Jobs-esque, goddamn ugly-ass turtleneck apart with your bare hands. Like freeing a mermaid from a net. He squeezes your waist, his broad palm settled in the curve of your lower back. 

“Darling, I don’t see why this has you so sad –,”

“They won’t fall in love with you like I did.” You lift your watery gaze to him, unable to stop the spilling of tears. You always got teary when you drank a bit too much, but fuck, if you didn’t love him so much, you wouldn’t be so mad . . . at yourself. “I hate that you feel like you have to do this to be accepted by my family. I hate that they can’t see what makes you so special to me. I hate . . . I hate that they don’t see the real you.” 

And out of nowhere, he smiles. 

Never one to shy away from bodily fluids, Dieter kisses your tear-soaked cheeks, his hands rising up your back, taking their time to press into the curve of your hips, the bones of your ribs, the high arch of your spine, before settling on your cheeks. He kisses your wet mouth, thumbs against the corners of your lips like a soft leather bridle. He holds you, just like that, until your heart eases, stops racing in your chest, and you lean more into the kiss, chasing instead of hiding. You wrap your fingers around his wrists as he pulls away.

“With all due respect, this is just another gig for me.” His gentle smile hides no bitterness, no anger. No disgust. “I know what people like this are like, how they think, what they want. What they value.” He smears away the cold tears from your skin with his thumbs. “It’s fun, in a way, to infiltrate their little circles. It’s all fake, it’s all bullshit, and fortunately I’m fantastic at bullshit.”

You let out a watery laugh and he reaches behind you for some toilet paper to dry your tears. He blots your eyes for you before you can even take the tissue. 

“You’re not forcing me to do anything, baby,” he murmurs. “My family was exactly the same way, so I know how the game is played.”

“Yeah, and you don’t talk to them anymore. I just wish I had your bravery to cut them out of my life like you did.” 

Dieter’s mouth twitches. “Well, that had more to do with the fact that I like to occasionally make out with boys, than dysfunctional family dynamics.”

You squeeze his forearm as he continues to clean your face, trying to catch his eyes but they’d gone hard where a moment ago they were soft. He thinks, using the silence to carefully fix your make up with his thick thumb under your eyelashes to lift off the smeared mascara. 

He didn’t talk much about his life before Hollywood, but when he did, you understood why he was so closed off about it.

“Let’s put it this way: they did the cutting off, not me. And even if we have to be completely different people, your family still talks to you. I’m not saying that to guilt you, or compare trauma scars, but . . . most times we can’t pick who we love, but sometimes we have to.” 

You nod, a sense of ease washing over you. His small, I don’t know if I should say this but I’m gonna smile widens across his mouth. 

“It’s okay if they don’t see the real me, because I know you do.” He finally pulls away the tissue, his mouth pulled up in sweet earnest. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

A physical string connected between your ribs and his could not have tugged you faster. Tripping into his wide, warm chest, you drop your head onto his collarbone as you wrap your arms around his torso tighter than his own rib cage.

“Just . . .”

His bulky arms pull you into his chest, the bristles of his beard scratching at your temple. It’s not until you sink away from your own thoughts, into the silence in the bathroom, that you realize your breathing is synced with his. 

That realization hits you particularly hard, that without trying, without meaning to, you become one with him – you turn and bury your face into the pulse of his neck. If you can get to his heartbeat, maybe that’ll calm you too. Dig through the crust of the earth and end up in China. You shift in his arms, and he does too. Dieter cups the back of your head, thumb rubbing the arch of your skull. His entire arm circles your back. 

“What do you need, hm, baby? What can I give you, huh?”

You know he doesn’t mean it like that, but the girth, the weight of his voice has your toes curling in your shoes. His rasp is so often used to light that first spark. 

“Dieter –,” the moment shifts and so do you. You squirm, itching for his face in your hands, his mouth over yours, but he holds you steady. Holds you firm. So firm, you can feel he’s half-hard in his jeans. 

Oh. 

Maybe he did mean it like that. 

You press your tongue against his pulse point, your fingers splayed across the back of his rib cage, and he shudders. You’re about to bite down, when his hands peel your fingers from his back and pinch your wrists in one single, meaty grip. Heart suddenly thundering in your chest, he steps back to allow for just enough room to turn you – barely any at all – and pushes you face down on the sink counter, your wrists clasped over your ass behind you.

Cold marble pressing up against your tits, your face turned towards the window and the towel bar where you used to hang your Barbie swimsuits when you were seven, you feel his other massive palm dip under your sweater and press flat against the ridges of your spine. He hums when you let out a small whine. Flexes his fingers when you wiggle your ass against him. You seek out the marble with your cheek, heat rising under your skin, arousal suddenly burning hot in your low belly. 

“This is what you need, hm, baby? Need me to touch you? To feel you?” He murmurs. Dieter always did like playing with his food. You nod helplessly, cheek sticky against the marble. He shifts his hips into the crack of your ass, with just enough pressure to have you bucking back against him, but not enough to find relief from the stirring between your legs. 

He strokes your hair away from your neck, fingers brushing over your collarbone, gaze languid and slow. Like he can see where he needs to pluck to unravel you. 

“Why is my baby so tense?” He muses quietly, patronizing. His hand maps your spine in a single palm, edging slowly up your back until, with two fingers, he pinches your bra open. You feel the snap of the release and you rub your nose against the edge of the counter, whimpering. “Don’t I take care of you?”

You gulp. “Y-y-yes, you treat– treat me so good. I want it.” 

He has you pressed too tightly against the counter to slip his hand down your front, the edge pinching your hips. So, instead, with your hands still pinned against your tailbone, he palms your ass and rubs a thick finger down between your legs and up over the seam of your jeans. The whine building in your throat breaks into an open moan when he presses your zipper teeth into your clit.  

“Want what? Tell me and I’ll give it to you.” 

“F-fingers – tongue – fuck – y-your cock. Anything inside me.” 

The surprised, breathless chuckle that reverberates down to the button of his jeans seared against your ass has you bending, stretching, just for a glimpse of his face in the mirror. 

His mouth open, tongue curling back and forth over his bottom lip, he’s hungry. Wants so much. Can’t satiate this need without something between his teeth. Grinning around a mouthful of incisors. Patience has never been Dieter’s strong suit. 

With a firm jerk around your wrists, your back arches up off the counter, shoulders pinched, hands caught low near his groin. You know he wants you to watch him touch you in the mirror – he’s stopped before when you close your eyes – but it’s hard to look at the woman reflected back at you, with her bleary eyes, mussed hair, heaving chest, and exposed belly button where his hand hovers between the waistband and a green sweater, and recognize yourself. 

  “No one can take you from me. Do you understand?” He dips his head, arched nose dragging up the curve of your neck, breathing hot through his teeth against the lines where your hair and your skin meet. You can’t help but arch up into his waiting mouth. “Not your family. Not mine. You’re so greedy for me – who else is gonna make you feel this good?” 

“N-no one, Dieter, no one can.”

His hand rising under your sweater, thumb first at your belly button, then up between the spread of your ribs, and finally, it catches under the wire of your bra and he tugs it down. The material rubs against your sensitive nipples – it almost stings, your body pulled taught like a bowstring – the straps falling low off your shoulders, but your sweater keeps it from falling off completely and he goes no further. You whine, eager for something other than the scratch of the bra – something warmer – and push your sensitive tits into his soft hands, but his hand drops, fingering the waistline of your jeans instead. He ignores what you want to show you what you need. 

This is a thing he did. He watched you wind yourself up with deadlines and scheduling and meetings and arguments on set and and doubt and worry and fear and then he took it upon himself to tire you out enough that all of it shattered – crashed and consumed under the white noise in your head. Dieter liked to play however you needed it.

You can feel the seam of his jeans hover just beyond your fingertips, as though his hips swing unconsciously forward while he nips and sucks on your neck. God, you’d give anything to have the weight of him between your palms. 

When he speaks again, you realize at some point you squeezed your eyes shut, forgoing sight to chase the sensation that sparks across your skin every time he touched a new bare patch of skin on you. He pulls his head up from fixating a tender purple blush just below where your sweater covers your shoulder to catch your gaze in the mirror. Panthers do not watch with such hungry eyes. 

“Arms up.” It’s not a command, a request, but the words drip from his mouth, rich and sweet. He lets go of your wrists and your arms flutter above you, his fingers already rolling up the edge of your sweater. He drags it up, snagging your loose bra with it, and peeling them both off you. The immediate heat of his chest on your bare back is so hot, it burns cold. 

“Dieter,” you cry, nipples hardening in the cold air, goosebumps spiraling out along your skin. He’s there for you in an instant. 

He bites the soft, invisible hairs at your jaw, thick paws coming up to clutch your breasts, the sudden swap in temperature making your head swim. He pulls you against his chest, a new outer skin that breathes and moans and gasps, one that has a steady heartbeat your own has synced to. 

With his eyes fixated on you in the mirror, he molds your breast to his palm, rounding your nipples with his thumbs before sliding down between the curves of them. He licks the back of your neck. 

“Face down, baby,” he says. 

“But it’s cold,” you huff, pouting. You smooth your hands over his, his angular wrists, his broad thick forearms entombed in long back sleeves, then settle with your fingers in his hair. His height over you has your torso stretched, your tits bare and ripe, and he palms your stomach to the top of your ribs in two hands. He grunts when you twist his curls, keeping his head still so every bruise and wet spot on your shoulders and throat are all too visible. “Don’t you want to see all your good work?”

He blinks, slow and purposeful, his eyelids heavy, mouth parting. You can’t be sure of his decision, of what he wants, what he’s going to give, when his hands arch up the cradle of your arms, soft enough to tickle below your elbows, then around your wrists. He’s done this enough for you to know he wants you to let go.

You do. 

Fast as venom moves from fangs to flesh, he plants your hands on the counter, forcibly gripping the edge. This is how you hold on. 

He steps up against you again, iron-hot cock pressing without hesitancy between your ass cheeks, and unbuckles your pants without preamble.

“I’d rather just show you.” 

Broad hand bending your shoulders forward, fingers pressed flat over your shoulder, you gasp when your tits make contact with the cold counter, and an instant later, he’s filling your open mouth with his fingers. He wets them against the slip of your tongue and grabs your jaw. 

Your mind fracturing like cracking ice, you don’t hear the zip of his jeans, the groan as he takes himself out – barely feel the rub along your wet slit, the arranging of his fingers around your bare hip, the widening of your stance with his ankle. 

But you do feel it when he’s suddenly hilt-deep inside of you. 

You lurch forward with the weight of it, whining as though scalded at the sudden blinding pressure of pleasure and pain, and you slap a palm against the mirror to keep yourself from shattering through it. Behind you, Dieter looks like someone dislocated his kneecaps. 

“You good, baby?” He pants, drawing his hand out of your mouth, wet spit between his fingers as he cups your hanging breast. The sensation bleeds hot, then cold. Unable to help himself, he nuzzles your shoulder blades. 

You nod, eyes shut, the magnetic north sense of you spinning wildly off-kilter as you try to gulp in as much air as you can. You know you’re about to lose it anyway. He stands upright, not so much as inching out of you, when he plants his feet and nestles your ass against his hip bones, hands wiggling you further down his cock. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” 

It’s said with such wonder, a breathless reverence, that you think he might not have realized he said it out loud. You glance over your shoulder, turning your head instead of finding him in the mirror. 

The facade of the Brooklyn banker is gone. Your Dieter stares, awe-struck, at the body he’s got impaled on his cock like it’s the first time he’s seen a naked woman. Soft, pliant, eager to please, your Dieter lets you collar him, peg him, and give it to you exactly as you ask.

“How do you want it?” The phrase is so familiar, so intimate when spoken from his pink lips, you shudder, a Pavlovian response that’s got you drooling somewhere else than your mouth. He lifts his gaze and finds you staring. 

There is no one else in that moment. Not a single living soul besides you and him in this white-tiled bathroom. You can almost hear the absence of people ringing in your ears. His open, hot mouth draws your eyes away from his and you want every bit of him as stuffed up inside you as you can handle. Twisted around, you lick his bottom lip over your shoulder before offering your tongue for him to suck.

He groans, and you breathe in intimacy you’ve never experienced before. A flushed ache rises from your chest, a precursor to the aches he’ll leave you with by morning. 

You tip your head back and thumb the bristly skin against his chin.

“Hard, baby. Please.”

For all his faults, for all his forgetting, Dieter switches brain waves as fast as you do, tethered together like the gravitational spin of space rocks in the wake of a gleaming comet.

“Okay.”

He distracts you from the pain of that first rough thrust by biting down on your shoulder.

His motions are short, targeted, and right up into the cradle of your cervix, the pace driven, unrelenting and hard. You shake with the force of them, as fragile as silverware on a table near the drop of an atom bomb. 

“Oh – fuck, Dieter–,” 

He pins your arm that had touched his chin to your chest, then his chest to your back, sealing your damp skin to his shirt. The curl of that wretched black turtleneck scratches deliciously against your low back. 

Grunting in low, short bursts, Dieter sabotages his own breathing by crushing you so tight to his chest. He sucks on your neck as if to draw the oxygen straight from your blood. The fingers on your hip steady you, just for his cock wrecks your insides. 

“You wan-na – ngh – you wanna know why it doesn’t bother me?” 

Each word is spat out from between his teeth. He’s giving you your requested punishment as much as he is sprinting after his own release.

“Tell me. Tell me please.” Your voice is scraped raw, breathless and gooey at the same time. 

“Because when you’re my wife, they won’t be able to do a fucking thing about it.” 

Around him, your cunt squeezes, his words sending shocks through your nerves. You whine as if he’d smacked your ass. 

“I fucking felt that. You like that. You want that. You want my fucking cock every day.”

Again, he plants your hands on the cold counter. 

“Push back against me, baby.” You anchor yourself, ass out, elbows and knees locked. “That’s it, that’s my fucking good girl.”

He lifts his body up right, off your sweaty neck and back, and with both hands pinching your waist, he yanks you up and down on his cock in long, rough thrusts, knees bending with enough force to send you onto your toes.  

“Gonna have to take it. Just – fucking – take – it –,”

His leaking cock drives up against that spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll back and body tense again and again, but yanks back before that hot feeling swells. It’s so close you’re dizzy from it. 

You want to fuck yourself on his cock but you can’t time your aching hips right, so you stop trying and bend forward more, exposing more of your cunt to him. 

“Dieter, please –,” 

“Baby, you gotta be quiet. I know you feel good, but you can’t let them hear us.”

The words are out of your mouth, breaking through the thick, drowning fog and through the hindbrain barrier.

“Fuck them. Let them hear.” 

Dieter’s hips slow, punch not as deeply, as if he’s curious what you’re going to say next.

“Take off your shirt. I wanna feel your skin.” 

He listens immediately, a very good boy at heart, and the first press of his soft chest against you nearly has you coming then. 

“Harder again, please.” 

Again, without a second’s hesitation, he kisses your ear before grappling your shoulder with one hand and your hip with the other and he takes up his position as owner and keeper of your sloppy cunt. 

You cry out, high and wrecked, some semblance of sanity knowing you’re being far too loud, and he bucks the words out of you.

“I wanna suck on your earring, Dieter.” He grunts as he doubles over as if trying to yank back an unrestrained and early release. He rubs his damp forehead in the patch of soft skin by your shoulder blade. 

“Say it again.” 

With every rock of his hips, you swing up higher, and higher, your thighs tensing, nails scraping the counter. 

“Wanna put it between my lips and suck until you’re cherry red. I wanna choke on your rings. So far down my throat I gag. Wanna – wanna – lick your tattoos – all of them – ‘til the ink blurs from my spit. I –,”

The noise he makes is pained, weak, a man at the end of his rope.

He pops your ass. “Shut up. You’re gonna come now.” 

His sweaty palms slip against the soft skin of your hips, and he keeps slipping with no leverage. 

“Stand on your toes.” You do and for an absurd second, you think he’s going to pick you up in a bear hug. He wraps his arms around your rib cage, his face nestled into the hot, sticky curve of your neck, in the flipped image of when he takes you after your legs get sore from riding him. Your tits spilling over his forearms, he keeps the ludicrous bend in your spine as well as the short, rough pace. You reach your fingers around the back of his head and hold on for dear life. 

The change in angle has stars blowing across your eyes, has you whimpering strings of pleas, veneration, and curses all threaded together. His own thighs shaking, he rubs the pads of three of his fingers across your clit and you’re over the edge. 

“Oh – oh, shit –,”

The electrical storm that’s been building one wiry shock at a time finally bursts and you go rigid from head to toe, turning to marble, to steel, bright and sharp. You can feel your own release dribble down your thigh, Dieter stuttering behind you.

“Wait – fuck,”

He tries to speed up, or press harder, but he’s coming so hard you feel it expand your cunt and ends up just making a leaking mess. The sensation shivers you through another minor wave. The crest goes high, then crashes, and you slump forward, cold nips be damned, and he follows you down a second later. 

The heated weight at your back and hard, cool marble squishing your tits is too much for your dazed brain to handle. Any looser and you might slip off the edge of the earth. 

Dieter seems to be in a similar state. He not so much pulls out of you as he goes weak-kneed to the floor. A single tug on your hip has you stumbling down with him.

Despite the garland around the stairs, despite the smell of cranberries in the air, despite the veneer of perfect holiday wholesomeness, it’s the slick layer of sweat, grime, and cum over your skin that has you finally smiling. 

You recognize you have been gone far too long – there’s not enough spiked hot cider in the world to ignore two missing bodies and a locked door. Dieter puts his barefoot preemptively up against the door frame and you giggle into his shoulder. 

“Oh, there’s the sound I’ve been missing!” He nuzzles you, a blissful smile breaking open his face, sunlight over storm clouds. He wiggles beneath you, trying to tug you on top of him, but with your jeans constricting your thighs, and his barely below his hips, all it really accomplishes is the two of you rolling around on the bathroom floor.

In a heap of limbs, slick skin, his knee catching the button of your jeans, you bump your nose against his chin, there’s something bright building in your chest – it’s twisting your mouth, pinching your cheeks – his fingers grab your elbow, his eyes lock into yours – 

And you’re laughing. 

You’re laughing too loud, all pretense gone. You can’t honestly care what they’re thinking downstairs.

He manages to get you under him, his damp hair clinging to his temples and tangling down in frizzy strands. 

“I’m gonna say this and I need you to actually hear me.” 

You nod, grinning up at him and lightly tracing his clavicle. 

He swats at your hand and holds it to your chest. 

“Don’t wait until it’s that bad, okay?” You chuckle and he bites the tip of your nose. “Listen to me, you little goblin, I’m trying to be serious for a second.”

You settle under him, fingers intertwining with his over your chest. Sincere Dieter is a beautiful thing to look at. 

“This holiday bullshit can be a lot. Spent a lot of them either in coke up to my eyeballs, or in the bathroom the next day. It fucking sucks that these are the people we can from, but we can’t change that. What’s important is the family we build right now–,”

Your mouth drops open, his words suddenly illuminating a future that had always seemed so blurry and distant. 

“Dieter, I –,”

“I’m gonna marry you someday, so let’s start with us.” He kisses the back of your hand. “We carry each other, okay?” 

You nod, the white light of that future searing a hole in your chest, exposing your heart to the open air, and bringing tears to your eyes. You nod, more assured, before kissing him on his bottom lip.

“Okay.” 

The next few minutes play out just like they would if you were at home: cleaning each other up, trying on clothes only to realize he grabbed your sweater instead, and bumping affectionate kisses wherever they could reach. 

At the top of the stairs, you don’t know what awaits you in the living room. What exactly you’ll be returning to. Who will catch you and who won’t.

But it doesn’t matter. His hand is around yours and he’s grinning petulantly against all the world. 

Is Dieter Bravo someone you could rely on? 

Your heart says yes. 

[beskarandblasters]

This is the Way…. To Your Pussy

Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Dieter Bravo Masterlist

Summary: Dieter happens to know someone in the costume department of The Mandalorian who hooks you up with a special surprise…

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: porn with little plot, established relationship, role play, restraints, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (mesh’la, baby), no use of y/n

You’re sitting on the couch with your boyfriend, Dieter, watching the newest episode of The Mandalorian. The third season is close to wrapping up and you’ve come to a certain realization… You’re head over heels for Din Djarin. 

You’re pretty sure Dieter’s realized you have this little crush, too. 

“Baby, are you sure you’re not attracted to Mando?” he would ask you, at the end of every episode each week. 

“I’m sure!” you’d lie, wanting to spare his feelings. 

But in this particular episode, you can’t hide your attraction. Din’s just been captured by Moff Gideon and he’s on his knees. Your jaw is on the floor. 

Dieter looks over at you and notices the expression on your face, shouting, “I knew it! I knew you were attracted to him!”

You close your mouth and look at him, taking note of the devious expression on his face. You were worried he’d be jealous or angry even. But instead, he looks… gleeful. 

“Fine! He’s hot… Are you mad?”

“Mad?? Why would I be mad?”

“I don’t know! Maybe jealous is the right word?”

“Not jealous. Not mad, baby.”

“Then what are you?”

“Interested.”

“…Interested?”

“Mhm,” he says, returning to his comfortable position on the couch. 

He says nothing more and you’re left to wonder what he meant by that. 

-

In fact, Dieter doesn’t bring up again all week. You figured he would poke fun at your little crush but he doesn’t. You’ve even made some out-of-pocket comments about Din to bait him into saying something but he doesn’t bite. 

It isn’t until the night before the season three finale of The Mandalorian that Dieter finally says something about it. You’re about to get ready for bed, standing at the bathroom sink brushing your teeth. 

“Baby, I have a surprise for you,” Dieter says, poking his head into the bathroom through the doorway. 

“…Oh boy.”

“It’s not a bad surprise! Just stay here, okay?”

“…Okay,” you respond, watching as he reaches for the doorknob and closes the bathroom door. 

You blink a few times, staring at yourself in the mirror and wondering what he could possibly be up to now. Sounds of him struggling come from the bedroom followed by a few curse words.

“Dee? You good?”

“Just stay in there! I’m not done yet!”

“Alright, alright,” you sigh. 

After what feels like forever you hear him quietly say, “Okay, you can come out now…”

Something is making his voice sound muffled.

You slowly open the door and find Dieter, standing with his hands on his hips. Except he’s not wearing his normal pajama pants, fuzzy green robe, and Crocs combo. He’s wearing the Mandalorian suit. Your jaw falls to the floor, much like it did when you watched Din Djarin fall to his knees when he was captured. 

“Dieter… Where did you get this?” you ask, taking a step closer to him and running your hand along the breastplate. He fills out the suit so well. 

“Uhh, I called in a few favors.”

“To who??”

“I know someone in the Mandalorian costume department…”

“And they lent it to you?”

“I may have had to tell a little lie.”

“Oh God.”

“I said I needed it for my nephew’s birthday party.”

“Oh my fucking God…”

“Yeahhh, I know. But I did it for you!”

“Can we bet on how long you’ll keep the helmet on for?”

“Ooh, good idea.”

“Ten minutes.”

“Ouch. I’ll say twenty.”

“You’re on!”

“Okay cool. Now get naked.”

“Nooo, you gotta say it how he would.”

“Get undressed for me… baby?”

“Mesh’la.”

“Mesh’la?”

“It means beautiful.”

“Damn, maybe the Mandalorians do have game,” he chuckles. 

You pull off your sleep shirt and kick off your pajama bottoms, standing in front of him naked while you wait for your next command. He reaches around his belt and under the cape for something. You can only imagine what else he has planned. But you couldn’t have guessed anyway.

It’s a pair of pink, fluffy, handcuffs. 

“You’re joking,”

“Sorry, baby– Fuck I mean, mesh’la, I couldn’t get the Star Wars ones.”

“You got the suit. That’s all that matters,” you reassure him. 

“Turn around,” he commands.

You face the bed and he grabs your wrists, locking the pink handcuffs around them. He pulls you into him so your back is against his chest, and whispers in your ear.

“This is the way… to your pussy,” he says, only half-joking.

“Don’t even,” you snort.

“Okay, okay. Let me think of a scenario… Looks like I have to bring you in,” he says, tugging on the cuffs.

“Please, Mando. Don’t turn me in. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” he says.

“Anything.”

“Bend over.”

You do as you’re told, bending over the bed and arching your back. 

“Good girl, mesh’la,” he says, pressing his bulge against your ass. 

He steps back for a second to take his cock out of the suit, tugging off his glove before stroking himself. Pre-cum built up at his tip spreads down his shaft. But he lifts the helmet briefly to spit in his hand and slick his cock even more. 

One hand grips your shoulder and the other holds your waist, keeping you still as he thrusts himself inside you. You moan, feeling his cock stretch your walls while he buries himself in your cunt. 

“Fuck, Dee,” you moan, forgetting the roleplay for a second.

“Mando’s got ya, mesh’la,” he says, playfully correcting you. 

“You feel so good,” you breathe out.

“That’s right. Let me fuck this little pussy and I’ll let you go.”

He draws his hips back and slams into you, keeping a steady pace. Your bedroom fills with the wet sounds of Dieter’s cock sliding in and out of you. You’re so turned on and still in disbelief at his surprise. It’s hard to believe this is your Dieter fucking you like this, getting dominant for once. 

But you also wish you could look directly into the helmet's visor, too. 

“Mando…” you whine.

“What is it, mesh’la?”

“I want… I want to look at you.”

“How cute. Cum for me once and I’ll let you out of these cuffs. Can you do that for me?” he says, thrusting into you harder.

You go to respond but a whimper forces its way out instead. His pace quickens and his cock hits the most perfect angles inside you. You grow wetter and your core tightens up in anticipation of release.

“Already gonna cum for me?” he teases, squeezing your waist. 

“Fuck… Yes, Mando. I’m so close.”

“Cum all over my cock, mesh’la,” he says. You can tell by his voice he’s wearing a smug smirk under the helmet.

With one last thrust, you cum around his cock, knees buckling underneath you. He sighs as your walls clench around him, fucking you through your high. 

“Good girl,” he praises, slowing to a stop as you finish. He reaches for the cuffs and unlocks them, pulling his cock out of you and flipping you over on the bed. You inch up on the bed and spread your thighs, letting him get situated between your legs. 

He hovers above you, visor staring directly at you. Having him tower over you like this turns you on even more. He takes your hands and pins them above your head. He slides his cock inside you but this time, he takes his gloveless hand and rubs his thumb over your clit. 

“Fuck,” you moan.

“Mando’s taking care of you, baby,” he says, slowly thrusting in and out of you. He cocks his helmet to the side and watches as you writhe underneath him. He picks up his pace and swirls his thumb faster around your clit. Your orgasm is nearing again, somehow even quicker than before. 

“Already?” he teases.

“It’s so good,” you whimper, your entire body tingling at this point.

“Cum for me,” he commands again. 

Your orgasm spills over again, waves of pleasure washing over you. You were sure he would cum by now, feeling your second orgasm around his cock. But he doesn’t. Instead, he keeps thrusting in and out of you slowly, holding onto his release. 

Once your orgasm is finished, he lets go of your hands and removes his thumb from your clit. He reaches for the helmet and takes it off, setting it on the bed beside you. And this is when he pounds you like crazy. Matted curls fall onto his forehead as he rails you, hands planted by either side of your head. He’s got a wild look in his eye and his forehead is slick with sweat. 

“Fuck baby, you take my cock so good,” he moans. His voice is higher pitched like he’s desperate for his own orgasm now. He climaxes inside you, painting your insides with his cum. His eyes are closed and his head is thrown back in pleasure. He keeps himself balls deep until he’s done, pulling out of you and collapsing on the bed inside you. He pants as he catches his breath.

“Was it hot under there?”

“A little… But anything for you.”

“Aw, you’re sweet,” you say, rolling over on your side. 

“Told ya I’d keep it on longer than ten minutes,” he teases.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever…,” you roll your eyes, “Maybe you should get the suit again sometime… Or look into getting your own.”

“Let’s get our own… And the Star Wars handcuffs.”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Maybe next time Mando isn’t gonna let you go.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe he shouldn’t.”

His mind short circuits for a second before he jumps up and says, “I’m gonna go order those cuffs.”

You can’t help but laugh. 

[eupheme]

— cabin down below

dieter bravo x actress!f!reader

rated e - 1.8k

tags: cabining, co-stars-with-benefits, mentions of alcohol, references to sex and horror films, implied paparazzi trying to catch them together, oral sex

ahh nervous to post this (first time writing for him!) but excited about this gorgeous moodboard I recieved for Summer Lovin’ 24! 🏕️💖 thanks so much for hosting @pedgito, @amanitacowboy, and @chaotic-mystery!

Dieter really can talk you into anything.

The official table read is on Monday, scenes due to start shooting soon after. You really shouldn’t be thirty miles out of town right now - leaving the comforts of your apartment and the air conditioning of the limo, to hike another mile into the forest.

But you’ll trade the luxury for a chance to spend time with him. An old spot, he said. His dad’s cousin’s place, bought it off him when they needed the money. Been in the family for years.

“You gotta immerse yourself,” Dieter had told you, his arms spreading wide, “What better place to practice lines than here?”

It’s your first time in a movie with him. You’re not sure if he’s really a method actor. Equally not sure that it’s needed for a movie called Campground Carnage II - or if the city just seemed a little too loud, a little too busy.

Deep down, you hope it might just be an excuse to get you alone.

You'd be pretty alright with that.

It’s been hard to sneak around Los Angeles. There’s cameras everywhere. An obsession with one Dieter Bravo - the current hottest, most eccentric star.

You’d met before his last big break. Reading lines for Covert Affairs, but they had passed over the mutual chemistry for an actress with a little more weight to her name.

He had gotten the part, and you had gotten his number. Two desperate hookups when you both ended up in Vegas at the same time.

Only to come back together a year later.

“Long Island,” He had smiled, when he saw you, “Good to see you again.”

You had been surprised he remembered you, much less the drink he had bought. Enough alcohol in both your systems that you would’ve forgiven him if he had.

Not that you would have, though. Not with that mouth of his.

Something that you’re thinking about now, as the trees clear. The cabin tucked between them - a peeking sliver of a river cutting through the terrain behind it.

A cozy little thing, not much bigger than the apartment you’re missing. Built with thick wooden logs, two tidy windows out front, the checkered curtain pulled shut.

The key ring twirls on his finger, as Dieter moves ahead to unlock the door.

You can’t help appreciating the view, as he does. This ‘camping’ look suits him. It’s almost enough to make you a little jealous of his ability to look good in anything and everything he throws on.

A tight black tee, the hat that’s pulled down over his messy curls. Featuring an embroidered trout, with “fish want me, women fear me” scripted above and below that he found at a garage sale. Patterned crocs with matching shorts that only reach mid-thigh.

And you're at least 45-percent sure the fanny pack around his waist is filled with condoms and KitKats.

It’s been hard to keep your mind off him, on the drive over. Battering his wandering hands away, with the driver only a few feet from you. Still shy, both enthralled and not used to his open affection.

Trying to concentrate on the script. Preparing to run lines, just in case his suggestion for this weekend wasn’t some kind of euphemism.

But you kept going back to a particular scene. The two counselors - that’s you and him - sneaking off to one of the cabins in the campground.

A steamy encounter involving both the top and bottom of a bunk bed, and a lot of Bravo on his knees. Anything to showcase his physique, you’re already picturing how they’ll stage it with the female gaze in mind.

Bare back, you’re guessing. A hint of ass, but still tasteful.

The scene a fake-out - featuring a jump scare, with the shadow of a person passing by the windows behind you. Tapping into that classic trope - first to fuck, first to die.

Which might be true - if it was his first movie.

He doesn’t actually make it to the end, though. Dieter’s demise coming from a staged accident in the fishing lake, just as the movie lulls into a sense of safely. One final blow before the big reveal.

You know people will be pissed about that. As a fan of the series, even you are a little.

But the thought of having a scene with him - there is a flicker of excitement, that dulled heat in your belly - even though you know that logically, it will all be purely professional.

It’s still fun to imagine.

The door cracks open, but there’s something else with the sound. You frown, your head whipping towards the woods behind you. Searching for the source of the noise, one that sounded a little too familiar.

“Did I just hear a camera click?”

“Nah,” Dieter shrugs, “There’s no way they know about this place.”

"Yeah,” You hum, giving another glance. There’s nothing but the rustle of trees, the rush of the water. A self-conscious laugh, as you head inside, “Maybe I’m immersing myself too much.”

“No hauntings or serial killers here, sweetheart.” He smiles, “But if you’re scared I have a few ideas to get your mind off things…”

The door clicks shut behind him.

Your eyebrow arches, “Oh yeah? Like what?”

Dieter pretends to think, as he advances on you. Hands reaching out to trace up your sides, pulling you flush against him.

“Can think of a scene I’d like to start with,” He husks, eyes darkening, “There’s no bunk bed here, but I think we can make do.

Hunger flares in you, now that you're alone. Your eyes dip to the curl of his mouth, no more than a breath before you’re pressing your lips to his. A rough moan as his hands slide up your back, his tongue already brushing across your lower lip.

Tasting sweet when they part for him, your own moan swallowed as you lose your grip on your bag, letting it tumble to the floor.

It’s always so easy to get lost in him. If you’re not careful, you might just get swept away.

“You don’t want to see what the directors have in mind?” You tease, when you pull back for a breath, “Hold off on that scene until later?”

“No can do.” Dieter groans, as he pulls you back to him, “Not with you looking like this.”

You can’t help the smile, as you start the stumbling journey through the main room, wandering hands and the press of mouths.

His hand grasping your ass as your fingers slip under his shirt - the other reaching for the door he has you backed up against. A creaking swing, as it opens.

Dieter’s hands are at your hips, as soon as the back of your knees hit the bed.

“Let me taste you, baby.” It’s mumbled against your lips. His fingers dipping beneath your waistband. A nail tracing the edge of your underwear, raising goosebumps, “Been thinking about it all day.”

You remember this from before. How focused he gets. Willing to beg, shameless, if there’s something he wants.

And you’re always willing to give.

The bed is soft - covered in worn buffalo-checkered sheets - as you let yourself be lowered onto it. His hands catch your ankles, tugging you down until your legs drape off the edge.

Spread wide, so he can fit between them as he kneels. Batting your hand away as you go to push down your shorts.

“I wanna do it.” He hums. His own shorts already pulled tight, a hand coming to palm himself in anticipation.

Your hips lift for him. Nails bite into skin, grasping fabric and pulling down both layers. Easing them around the bulk of your gym shoes so his palms can press into your thighs, spreading them even wider.

A rough noise, when he sees you.

“You been thinking about this too, babe?” He coos, a thumb pressing against your slit. Rolling against the wet gleam of your center, as it betrays your desire.

You huff, the muscles in your legs flexing. Breath held as your eyes flit up to his, waiting. Watching, as he sucks your slick from his skin with a groan.

“Bet you were. Saw you eye-fucking me in the limo, all while telling me to keep my hands to myself.”

"I-I," You try to answer. To protest - to say you weren't - but his palms are smoothing up your skins. Distracting, as he slowly moves.

Those eyes focused on yours as his head tips. An open-mouthed kiss to your knee, then thigh. Moving up, as your heart races.

Inner thigh, now.

"Dee," There's a buck of your hips, with your whine, “Don’t tease.”

It’s futile, you’re certain. Unable to take what you dish out. But perhaps he’s been pushed too far as well.

“Tell me you need it.” His pupils are blown-wide, drunken already.

It’s easy to answer.

“Please. I need you.”

The next kiss is right against your slit. Messy, as his mouth covers you. Your fingers twisting in the blanket, as your knees press against his shoulders.

He’s too good. Teasing with the wet brush of his tongue. The slow creep of his fingers, the tip of one pressing against your entrance - only to withdraw just as you clench down.

Again, and then again. Slowly sinking into you, one knuckle at a time. Working you open, until you’re stretched wide around three of them - too full to form words.

“Don’t need direction for this,” His eyes flip to yours, a dimpled smile as his fingers sink deep and then curl, “Do I, baby?”

He does it again, as your answer pitches high. Your hips bucking into his touch as his tongue licks at you again. Timing it so that the point of his tongue teases your clit, each time his fingers rub against the spongey spot inside you.

He’s going to make you come. You’re too wound up, too needy for him.

“Fuck, Dieter.” You keen - your leg hooking over his shoulder, “Oh fuck, keep doing that-“

“That’s it baby,” He grins, “Improvise for me.”

It makes you laugh, which has him groaning as you tighten around his fingers. His left hand dropping to push down the waistband of his shorts. Fingers pulling from you only long enough to smear your arousal on his cock, to pump his fist until he’s covered.

It’s then that you think you hear it again. Just as his tongue slips inside you. Another mechanical sound from outside, just barely audible through the wooden walls.

“Dee,” You moan, fingers twisting in his hair. Either to pull him closer or push him away, you’re not sure, “I d-definitely heard-”

“Can’t see in here.” It’s mumbled out, gasped between your thighs.

He’s seen to that, at least. The blinds thick, the bedroom tucked away.

A grin, as his tongue flattens - licking from hole to clit, “Wasn’t planning on leaving, anyways.”

You trust him, knowing he wouldn't leave you vulnerable. The sound in your throat is muffled as your teeth clench, “But they-, what if they hear us?”

It’s only now that his head lifts, those dark eyes blown wide. Paired with a lazy smile, his lips shining as they stretch wide.

A soft croon.

“Then I guess you’d better be quiet.”

Your laugh turns into a soft groan, at the flick of his tongue. Self-conscious perhaps, but not wholly and entirely deterred by the thought of an audience.

Not when you’re with him.

“Keep that up,” You manage - as something molten floods through your belly, “And you might have to help a girl out.”

His weight presses into you as he moves up - heated, bare skin as he settles between your thighs. Dieter’s nose skimming your throat, as his hand slips between your thighs.

Just before his mouth presses to yours, swallowing you moan.

“That, baby… I can do.”

just wanted to try something fun 🏕️ thank you so much for reading! and thanks again for this awesome event!

[l0ngschl0ngking]

(Met) In the restroom

Dieter Bravo x f!reader

summary: Dieter looks good. Good enough that you let him fuck you in the public restroom at Met Gala

warnings: SMUT (vaginal fingering, oral-f!receiving, semi-public sex, mirror sex, unprotected p in v, spitting, biting, dirty talk, hair pulling, choking), cursing and fluff

word count: 3.8k (surprirse, surprise -quite short for me :D)

A/N: when I saw this look I instantly thought of Dieter. And you know I had to get this out of my head

It was unfair how good he looked tonight. Too good. And he knew it. He also knew you were watching him the whole night - catching your gaze a few times and sending you his signature cocky smirk or a sultry wink. And god, did that make you want to grab him and fuck his brains out right there on the carpet in front of all the other people.

His -other times- unruly hair was now slicked back enchanting his sharp features. His sharp jawline and aquiline nose were even more prominent from the side. You watched as he scratched the bald patch in his salt and pepper beard - the spot where you knew he was sensitive, always shuddering after you kissed him there.

You never saw Dieter dress up much - he loved his loose sweatpants and robes too much and felt comfortable in them so it was a rare treat to see him like this.

The thing that drove you the wildest though were the black shorts. You thought it looked silly when you first saw him arrive but after watching him longer and longer, watching how he strode on the red carpet with confidence made you reconsider. He pulled it off well and oh, you were thanking whoever decided on his outfit because his muscular thighs on display had you sweating in your dress.

The flash of cameras and people shouting and calling your name was something you got used to after the years. It came in handy sometimes. Like right now as you ignored them and watched Dieter as he talked to one of his co-stars on the current film he had been working in. He laughs and the corners of his eyes crinkle, his hand coming to rest on her waist as photographers quickly take pictures of the two of them. And you shouldn't feel jealous - you and Dieter weren't in a relationship. But still, the possessiveness that quickly washes over you is something you aren't proud of so you turn around, your back now facing them as you smile and wave at the people.

And maybe, just maybe you would feel a little bashful watching him like he was a piece of meat all night. But you knew Dieter. And he certainly did enjoy the attention you gave him - his posture always straightened whenever he saw you looking at him, his chest puffing in pride. Because even though he did not show it as much as you, he was affected by you in that pretty dress you were wearing tonight more than he’d liked to admit. You weren’t the only one with dirty thoughts swimming through your mind.

You and Dieter met on the set of Cliff Beasts 6. It was a silly project but your agent said it would get you places - it didn’t, not really. You met the Dieter Bravo and suddenly it was even worst than you anticipated because now you had to be in quarantine with him.

You two definitely weren’t the best buddies right off the start. Dieter is an "over-the-top" kind of guy and downright childish. Not a lot of people can stand him. He knows it. Maybe that’s why he got into acting. Pretending to be someone else every once in a while because nobody liked the real him.

He snorts coke in his free time and fucks anything that moves on two legs. So when he asked you with his puppy dog eyes and pouty lips if you wanted to sleep with him you immediately blew him off. But he was persistent, actually spending time with you and getting to know you - mostly because you were the only one who actually wanted to spend time with him even after he basically asked you multiple times if you’d allow him to “stick his glow stick into your dark cave”. And after a while, you got used to his eccentric persona and to be quite honest, you even enjoyed spending time with him. He was like a breath of fresh air.

One night you got drunk together - neither of you were good at holding your liquor.

That was all it took before you were in his room, your ass up in the air as he drilled into you from behind. And honestly, you never expected Dieter Bravo to make you cum three times in a row in one night. He was everything you’d thought he’d never be - attentive, passionate, eager to please. Also vocal. Very vocal.

And so you kept on sleeping with each other - even after the wrap of Cliff Beasts. You came to his, he came to yours. You fucked and then one of you left the other’s apartment. It was just that - release. Nothing more. But after a while, you started having breakfasts together, then it came to you keeping some of your belongings in his apartment, you just chatting as you watched him paint in his studio - you actually figured out Dieter was a smart guy if he wasn’t high, movie nights, dinner dates at home…you eventually moved in but neither of you would ever admit that.

For fuck’s sake, you weren’t even sure if you were dating or not. Dieter was scared of commitment, that much you learned from spending time with him, so you never pushed. And you were comfortable with it - no labels on your relationship, no pressure, no public exposure, no paparazzi or magazines that would start drama.

But at the moments like these - where he was pretending you didn’t even exist and you tried to do the same - you wished that you would go public. That you two would be now together here - as a couple. But alas, it was just your wishful thinking.

And before you know what is happening, a hand snakes its way onto your waist, a familiar cologne fills your nostrils and makes your heart skip a beat. You slowly turn your head to look at him and he squeezes your waist tighter, the rings on his fingers digging into your flesh, as he mutters a quick: “Smile for the cameras, sweetheart.”

You want to ask him what does he think he is doing but the words die on your tongue when he pulls you closer to his side. And so you do as he says, his touch sears its way onto your skin and yeah, you were in big trouble. Because fuck buddies definitely didn’t make eachother feel how he made you feel right now - like a fucking teenager whose crush smiled at them for the first time. Minutes pass, you aren’t sure, as his hands finally leave your waist and you think you are able to finally breathe again. Before he leaves, his hands brush against your lower back, his breath hitting your neck - you can smell the mint gum he chewed before he got here.

“I can’t wait to fuck the sweet cunt of yours tonight, sweetheart. You look so good in this dress.”

And with that, he leaves. Leaving you with your mouth wide open and your gaze burning into his back. But it does make you feel better - you would be the one who he was leaving with tonight. You would be the one who'd feel his plush lips on your skin, his tongue tracing your curves. You would be the one who'd ride the muscular thigh of his tonight because Dieter loves when you use him for your own pleasure. You would be the one who would make him cum and hear his pretty pleas and whines, and groans because they were only for your ears to hear.

Yeah, you had problems.

The afterparty makes you loosen up a little. You chat and laugh, drink expensive champagne and for a moment, totally forget about Dieter Bravo. You don’t see him, the room is crowded and loud as people talk. One of your friends leaves the table to get another glass for the two of you when you spot him - your eyes narrowing as he laughs at something one of his female co-workers says as she grabs him by the bicep and he is already looking at you from the corner of his eye, his mustache lifts upwards with the little smirk he throws you.

And you do need to get away because it’s not about you being jealous - even though you hate the fact. It’s about him toying with you and you not being able to do anything about it. Because what could you do? You never said you two would be exclusive and it hurts. It hurts because you have no right to be jealous - he isn’t yours. Oh, how freaking stupid you were to tangle up with Bravo.

You enter the restroom - it’s spacious and clean and it smells nothing like restrooms. More like lavender? You see your reflection in the mirror - she doesn’t look like you. Were you so desperate for a man that did not want you? That he was so afraid of being seen in public with you he rather flirted with anyone else but you? You put your purse on the edge of the ceramic sink and lean your hands on it, breathing in as you look down into it. You hear the door open and close quickly before you hear the lock click but you pay it no mind. When you look back in the mirror you yelp - jumping in the air comically. He chuckles and grabs your hips so he can spin you around and face him.

You don’t have a time to ask him what is he doing as his lips are already on your neck - you can feel him smile into your flesh when his tongue traces your collarbones and a quiet moan escapes from your mouth, your fingers gripping his coat and you pull him away from you because you can’t do this anymore. Sneaking around, only stealing a few minutes of time sometimes. His brown eye search for yours as he looks at you confused, pupils blown wide, his tongue quickly coming out to lick his lower lip. You do not dare to look at him.

“I think we should end this.” the room falls silent. You can only hear the music from outside the door and your beating heart that needs to call the fuck down. He pulls away from you completely, his expression more heartbroken than shocked.

“What? Why?” It hurts to hear him say it like that - his voice quiet as he almost chokes on the words. He looks like a kid that just broke his favorite toy. He waits and when you don’t answer hurt quickly turns into anger, his face hardening. “Just tell me why and then I’ll leave you alone.” His voice is monotoned without any traces of emotion and it’s scary how much of a good actor he can be. It spikes anger in your guts in return - for him to dismiss it just like that. You don’t want him to leave you alone. Is he blind? Why can’t he see it?

“Because, Bravo. I can’t stand another second pretending we don’t know eachother in public while at home you practically whine for me to not leave. I am tired of pretending that I don’t care when you flirt with other people. I am tired of pretending that what we have between us is just some “let’s fuck” deal. I am tired of pretending that I don’t have feelings for you. And I am tired of pretending that you might care for me where in reality you clearly don’t.”

Your chest heaves and he looks at you as if you had grown a second head. The Dieter Bravo that has always something to say now falls quiet and it makes the insides of you burn with anger because how dare he walk into your life and fuck you, make you feel like he cares and when you finally confess just stare at you?

“You have nothing to say now, Bravo? Really? That’s oh, so great because-“

“Shut up.” He grits through his teeth and your mouth falls open. Did he just say you should shut up? Fuck him.

“Fuck you. Don’t tell me what to do you prick.” You jab into his chest, solid under your fingertips and he doesn’t even move a muscle as you do. ”I pour my heart out for you and you-“

You squeal when his hand moves on the back of your neck pulling you close, his mouth finding yours and he breathes you in. His eyes fall tightly shut as you moan into his mouth and his tongue strokes yours. It’s different than the other times you’ve kissed. It’s passionate and desperate - but not in a sexual way.

It’s intimate and his other hand slowly strokes your hip, his thumb smoothing the fabric of your dress and goosebumps erupt on your skin as you feel his rings on the back of your neck - digging into your flesh with the need to pull you closer into him. Your lower back collides with the counter and he hoists you up on it - your feet now dangling in the air as he pulls his mouth away from yours and settles between your legs.

His eyes are soft and his thumb strokes your cheekbone, a soft smile on his lips makes your heart do a somersault in your chest. His forehead bumps with yours and you smile too when he whispers: “I have feelings for you too, sweetheart.”

And then he is kissing you again, his hands finding the zipper of your dress before he expertly pulls it down and the material of it pools at your waist, his hands instantly coming to hold your tits, his thumbs stroking your nipples and the cold of the rings makes you gasp. He smiles into your neck, his mustache scraping you as he trails soft kisses from your jaw to the juncture of your neck and bites you there, your keen into his touch as you moan, his tongue soothing the assaulted flesh with ease. He is quick to undress you completely -the dress falling onto the ground and he kneels on it, his mouth kissing your inner thighs, his teeth scraping you, his hands exploring and mapping your body before they settle onto your hips as he taps two times so you’d lift up a little. He hooks his fingers into your panties before they are off you too and he is kissing your mound.

Your hands fall into his slicked hair and he moans when you grab him by it and pull him closer to your cunt, his fingers quickly finding their way into his mouth before he pulls them out and shows you the saliva-covered digits as the ring shines with it before he slowly enters you with two of them and you throw your head back, your grip tightening in his hair as he kisses your clit.

The pass of his fingers inside you is slow, languid as if he had all the time in the world and wasn’t just fucking you in the restroom of Met Gala. It makes your core floods with arousal - that anybody could hear you two. His fingers dig into your hip while his others work their way in and out and before you know it he is babbling into your core - his hot mouth still lazily kissing your clit, his tongue poking out to lick you.

“You dirty little girl. This is what you wanted, right? Is that it, sweetheart? You wanted me to fuck you where anybody could hear?” You squeeze around him, your fingers digging into his scalp and he hisses your name, his cock aching in his shorts as the only thing he can do is hump the air. “Oh, you like that. You dirty little thing. You’d want me to fuck you somewhere anybody could walk in?” You whine and nod, looking down at him and he smirks. His eyes glazed as you watch his tongue lick you slowly. Because he knows you have a bit of exhibitionism kink - he figured out when he fucked you against the glass walls of his apartment telling you what a “Dirty girl you are. Letting me fuck you where anybody could see the two of us.” You came almost instantly when the words left his mouth and he kept this information in the back of his mind.

Your thighs shake around his head and that’s when your mouth opens into a silent “o” as he spits onto your pussy and slurps at you, the filthy sounds coming from him making your inside squeeze him tighter and you can feel that you are close, your eyes rolling in the back of your head when you feel the deep rumble coming from his chest.

Dieter Bravo was godly at eating out pussy and he enjoyed it too. You can feel it even now as he enthusiastically pulls his fingers in and out of you, speeding the movements of his tongue and fingers when you squeal, your toes curling and he knows he found the spot. It only takes two or three passes of his tongue before you are cumming and he grins into your mound when you try to push his head away. He takes the fingers that were in you mere moments ago into your mouth to “clean his rings” before he is pulling them out and kissing you - the taste of you on him makes you kiss him deeper, your tongue tracing his teeth and he smiles into the kiss.

“I like it when you are jealous.” You want to protest - tell him you aren’t. Lie to him. Rile him up. But he puts you back on your jelly feet and you are met with your fucked out expression. He isn’t any better though - his pupils blown back wide and his slicked hair disheveled because of you.

He crowds you in - his hard cock that still strains in his shorts presses against your bare cunt and you moan, your head falling back onto his shoulder. The fabric of his shorts makes your thighs tremble and you are sure if he keeps this up you will cum again. Your hazy brain stops working alongside your mouth when you say: “I want to ride your thigh tonight while I hold onto the coat. You look so good in that outfit.” And he stops. You hear a choked sound behind you and then the zipper of his shorts before you feel the fat head of his cock notching at your entrance.

“Yeah, fuck yeah, sweetheart. You can ride your sweet pussy on my thigh when we get home. Want you to soak my thigh. Fuck. Want you to get off on it while I watch you.” He whimpers as he slides his head between your pussy lips. When he enters you it knocks the air out of your lungs. No matter how many times you two fuck, you will never get used to the size of him.

His fingers dig into your hip as he sets relentless pace, his hips smacking against your ass and his other snakes into your hair and tugs at it harshly -making you open your eyes and your gaze meets with his in the mirror.

“Yeah, watch how I fuck you. You are so filthy, sweetheart. Letting me split you open right here on my big fat cock.” He spits.

You watch as your tits bounce with every pass of his cock. You see his throat bob and the small droplet of sweat running down his temple. You see the vein on his neck is now prominent, his teeth barred for you two to see as he looks down where you two join and he moans -his head falling back and his hand that was gripping your hair now pinching your nipples. He is attentive and he can feel you squeezing him again. He knows you're close and he grinds against you -his pubic hair stimulating your clit and he grabs you by the throat, his teeth catching your earlobe. You feel the puffs of air leave his mouth. It’s hot and sweaty and you swear you never felt this good in your entire life before.

“Watch how I fuck you silly with my cock. Who do you belong to?” You cry out when a particular rough thrust makes you see stars and he groans as you squeeze him. He is close too, sweating under the coat and shirt. “Come on, tell me, sweetheart.” He grits out and he sucks at the skin on your neck, marking you.

“Yours!” You cry out and he hums, his fingers squeezing around your windpipe tighter and your hand comes back to fist at his hair as you watch his ring-clad fingers hold onto you before you are cumming, tugging him by the hair closer so you can kiss him. It’s messy -teeth and tongues clashing together as he fucks you through it and when you part a string of saliva connects the two of you.

“Yes, that’s right. You are mine. And I am yours, sweetheart. Just yours.” It makes your heart constrict because yeah -he is yours. Yours. Your walls pull him tighter even though you already came and he chokes on air because he is so fucking close. And when you kiss him under the hinge of his jaw and whisper: “I love you.” He is a goner.

Because nobody ever loved Dieter. And you just said you did. And his heart swells because he loves you too. As much as Dieter can actually love somebody.

He cums with a hoarse groan of your name, his hand digging into your ass. He kisses your shoulder blade lazily before he calms down and pulls out of you - putting back on your underwear. And helping you back into the dress. Neither of you looks presentable but neither of you seems to care.

“Want you to drip my cum all night and when we come home I want you to show me before you fuck yourself on my thigh.” Home.

He gives you a chaste kiss on the lips before he checks himself out in the mirror - trying to fix his hair, unsuccessfully, before he leaves you in the bathroom with a silly grin on your face.

You couldn’t wait to get home.

TAGS: @harriedandharassed @bbyanarchist @completelyoverit @cutesyscreenname

[tightjeansjavi]

‘Atta Girl

AU Joel Miller x Dieter Bravo x f!reader

NSFW 🔞

two is always better than one ;)

A/N: this piece is inspired by @psychedelic-ink Joel x Dieter x reader series. I had a lot of fun writing this, and I’m going to go cleanse myself with a nice long cold shower. Enjoy! ♡ Also, thank you again so much for 2k followers. This is such an amazing milestone for me and I cannot wait to see what the future holds! -Gi 🫶🏻 P.S. this is for the girls, the gays, and the theys.

~word count: 1.9k~

Summary: Dieter gets just a lil jealous when he comes home to find you having a cute little cock warming session with Joel, how rude that Dieter wasn’t included.

Warnings: established polyamorous relationship, smut with no plot, threesome, cock warming, dirty talk, pet names, huge fucking praise kink, Dieter is a little jealous you and Joel didn’t wait for him, slight degradation but the reader likes it, consent, cock warming that turns to fucking, unprotected piv, pussy eating, anal sex (m/m) squirting, (implicitly depicted) overstimulation, aftercare from both Joel and Dieter, fluff at the end, this is pornographic material that is NSFW! (+18) minors dni!

It comes as no surprise to you when you wake up in your shared bed with Joel already wanting to be inside you again. It’s early in the morning, you're conscious enough to consent to his desires as he waits for your approval. A low hum vibrates up your throat in response when his fingers gather up the slickness between your thighs. There’s a dull ache between your thighs from the rough fucking you received the night before from him, and Dieter.

Joel’s breath is warm against the shell of your ear as he presses a wet kiss to the sensitive skin below it. His fingers are lazily toying with your clit. He hums lowly into your ear when he feels just how wet you are for him. He takes the soft skin of your earlobe between his teeth and nibbles on it playfully as he slowly eases one finger into your sopping cunt. His grin against your warm skin is like that of a Cheshire Cat. He pictures your lips parting open with ease as he fucks his finger into your sticky warmth. He adds one more finger, curling his thick digits inwards as you dip your spine back against his broad, bare chest.

“S’warm n’tight for me, my sweet girl.” He praises you. His voice is deep, sticky and raspy with sleep. “Can feel your pretty lil’ pussy flutterin’ around my fingers. You want more?” He curled his fingers inwards once more, feeling you clench around them as he slowly pumped them in and out of you.

He used his free hand to wrap around your middle, his arm pressing your ass firmly against his already hardened cock. His hand slowly rests along your throat, thumb lightly applying a tad bit of pressure against your jugular as he tips your head back at the slightest so he can sloppily kiss you. Your teeth are clashing as you struggle to kiss him back at this angle. You drive your ass further against his cock as his tongue eagerly slips into your mouth.

The taste of his salvia and left over residue of whiskey on his tongue has your eyes rolling back into your skull. His mouth is completely dominating yours as he quickens the pace of his fingers buried inside of your pussy. He drinks in your low whimpers earnestly as they freely fall past your lips.

“Hike your thigh up to your chest for me sweetheart.” He mumbles a request against your swollen lips.

You waste no time bringing your thigh up to your chest. You know exactly why he asked you to do it and despite being properly fucked out, you always crave the delicious feeling of being filled up by his cock.

“‘Atta girl. Always so good for me, Hm? Always such a good little cockslut. Love how eager your pussy is for me. Gonna fill her up now, Kay sugar?”

You thread your fingers through the back of his head, gripping his soft curls tightly as you tug him closer, nipping at his lower lip. “Go slow, please.” You whimpered.

“Nice and slow for you, baby. I promise.” He slipped his fingers out slowly, listening to the delicious squelch of your pussy. He used your arousal as lubricant around his cock. He gave himself a couple of light tugs. You felt his tip nudging between your thighs as he pressed himself further. It wasn’t long before he was fully sheathed inside of you. You were notched together like two puzzle pieces, sticky, wet, gripping his cock so tightly.

He was buried to the hilt as the tip of his cock was nudging the spot deep inside of you that would have you seeing stars. You moaned into his mouth, having to break away the kiss because your neck began to tighten from the awkward position. A string of saliva connected your lips before you were turning your cheek into the soft pillow.

Joel gave a slow gyrate of his hips, a lazy thrust as he lightly bit down on your exposed shoulder. “Shit—yeah. This is perfect. Ain’t it sweet cheeks? Keep huggin’ my cock. Ah, just like that. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.” He hissed under his breath

Unbeknownst to either of you, Dieter had arrived home. What was supposed to be a 10 minute coffee run, turned into a 30 minute one. He was casually leaned against the doorway, eyes locked onto where yours and Joel’s bodies were connected. He had a smirk playing on his lips as he adjusted himself in his loose sweats.

He liked seeing you being such a good girl for Joel but damn, you guys couldn’t have waited up for him? How rude.

He lowly tsked under his breath, making his presence known. “Well, an invite would have been fucking nice.” He chuckled.

Oopsie.

Yours and Joel’s head’s immediately snapped in the direction of Dieter's voice. “Dee.” You let out a wanton moan.

“Are you being a good girl for Joel baby? Mmm. You like the way his cock fills you up? Is he stretching that pretty pussy out? I bet he is.”

“Mhmm.” You hummed, outstretching your hand in your second lover's direction. “Come play with us, Dee.” You softly cooed.

“Oh, I see. Now I’m invited to the party?” Dieter scoffed under his breath as he was already discarding his shirt carelessly to the side before dropping his sweats. “Sit her up on your cock, Joel. Don’t slip out, keep her nice and full.”

Joel eased himself onto his back, using the pillows as leverage. His arms stayed firmly wrapped around you as he coaxed you to sit up around his cock. Your thighs were spread wide over his as his hand found purchase around the underside of your thighs, sinking the pads of his fingertips into your soft flesh. His free hand was wrapped firmly around your middle holding you flushed against his chest.

Dieter was enjoying the show already as he dropped his boxers and your eyes locked onto the way his cock sprung up against his stomach upon being released from the confines. “Go to town on her, Miller. I want you to tear that fucking pussy up. You got that? C’mon big boy, don’t be shy.” Dieter shot you a wink as he crawled onto the bed, sitting up on his knees as he wrapped his fist around his cock giving it a few tugs.

Joel had whispered some filth against your ear, something that had your thighs clenching from his words as he bit down on your soft skin, harshly thrusting his hips into you, over, and over again while Dieter watched the way your pussy clenched around Joel’s cock, and the way his balls slapped up against your ass with each harsh thrust.

Dieter nestled himself between Joel’s spread thighs when you felt him spit over your pussy.

His saliva dripped down over your sensitive clit, and down to where yours and Joel’s bodies are tightly connected as he continues to fuck into you.

“Dee.” You sharply moan, crying out when the tip of Joel’s cock hits the tight spot deep inside of you. “What are you—oh.”

Dieter’s lips are wrapped around your clit, sending a shock of pleasure coasting through your veins. Your eyes roll back as he harshly sucks on the sensitive bundle of connected nerves. You feel his tongue everywhere on your pussy. His jaw goes slack as he laps up everything you have to offer him as he continues to stroke his own cock. His freehand parts your folds open so he can dive his mouth further into you. The sounds he makes with his head deeply buried between your thighs is nothing short of obscene.

He moves his fingers from your pussy to grip tightly onto the outside of Joel’s thick thigh. Dieters cock hangs heavy between his own thighs now as the tip is just barely nudging against Joel’s tight ring of muscle. “You wanna get in on the fun, big boy?” Dieter’s voice is muffled by his mouth being full of your pussy.

Joel let’s out a deep guttural grunt as he pushes his ass against Dieter’s cock, granting him permission to fuck him too.

Dieter hums against you, a chuckle slipping past his lips as he nudges the tip of his cock into Joel’s tight hole. “Guess you’re both cute little cock sluts together, hmm?” He purred as he pushed his hips further into Joel’s ass, letting out a deep groan against your cunt as he was buried to the hilt now.

Joel let out a deep growl against your skin, biting down on your shoulder harder as dieter fucked into him. Hopefully the neighbors weren’t home because the three of you were doing nothing to hide your cries of pleasure. Thank god Dieter Bravo was such a generous lover.

Your moans grew higher in octave as your impending orgasm was close to crashing through you. Between Joel’s cock stretching you apart, and Dieter’s skillful tongue ruining your clit, you weren’t going to be able to hold on much longer as your thighs began to tremble.

“She’s so fuckin’ close, Dee. She’s clenching so fuckin’ hard around my cock. Gonna milk me dry baby? C’mon and cum for us pretty girl. Cum all over my fuckin’ cock like the good little cock slut you are.” He grunted into your skin, teeth nipping at your soft flesh as he pushed his ass further against Dieter’s cock.

Dieter’s mouth was still firmly buried against your cunt. He could lap at you for hours if you’d let him. You let out a particularly loud moan mixing into a sob as Dieter’s teeth lightly grazed across your clit. “Cum all over his cock baby. Be a good girl for us.” He tsked, scraping his teeth over you once more.

All it took was one more harsh thrust from Joel, and Dieter sucking harshly on your clit for you to come undone. Hot white pleasure shot through your body as you convulsed along Joel’s cock. You coated his cock, Dieter’s face, and the sheets below with your release. You were absolutely spent when Joel finally slipped out of you. You were in a sex stained daze, mind fuzzy and in the clouds when you felt both pairs of lips leaving feather light kisses on your sweat soaked skin.

Dieter and Joel were extremely delicate with you, stroking sweaty strands of hair from your face and gently cleaning the mess between your thighs.

“Let’s get her in the bath.” Dieter gently suggested as he scooped you up into his arms, cradling you gently. “You were such a good girl for us. You made such a mess of the sheets baby. We’re so proud.” He praised you and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

Soon you find yourself in Dieter’s stupidly large jacuzzi tub, surrounded by bubbles and the warm glow of candles. Your two favorite people in the entire world were in the tub with you, gently caressing your body with soft touches. Dieter washes your hair, giving you a well deserved scalp massage while Joel gently washes your body. Once you are cleaned, you find yourself nestled against Dieter’s chest, with your legs resting in Joel’s lap where he gently massages your calves.

The three of you share a joint together until the bubbles dissipate and the water makes your skin pruny. Your boys order you your favorite food, and the rest of the afternoon is spent eating, cuddling, and watching reruns of Rupaul’s Drag Race in Dieter’s king sized bed.

Tagging people I think would enjoy this: @peterhollandkait @chaotic-mystery @pedgeitopascal @pedrospartner @psychedelic-ink @dinsdjrn @last-girl @korynnekorynne @lovers-liability @yazsos @wildemaven @leeeesahhh @amanitacowboy @pedrostories

[thetriumphantpanda]

Totally enjoying these fics you’re releasing! I hope you don’t feel pressured at all writing these wonderful stories and just enjoy em as much as we are.

For my request, jealous Joel Miller ❛ i’m going to ruin you. ❜ ❛ take off your clothes. ❜

Take care, love! 🩷

Hey Anon! Thank you so much, I'm glad you're enjoying them! I have to admit I am loving them as well! They're so much fun to put together as a distraction from the plot of my other stories - so I absolutely am enjoying them and there's no pressure at all! Thank you so much for your request, I hope you're happy with it! 🧡

If you'd like a prompt written, check this post here and pop a prompt into my ask with one of the follow Pedro boys - Javi P, Javi G, Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Dieter Bravo or Oberyn Martell.

Pairing | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count | 1.4K

Warnings | Porn with very little plot below the cut, rough sex, rough!Joel, breath play, unprotected PIV sex, oral sex (F receiving) and some dirty talk but nothing else.

 

“I’m going to ruin you.” Joel growled into your ear, hand resting almost threateningly at the base of your throat, “Thinkin’ you can sidle up to any man at the bar and flirt with him when I’m there.” 

You should have been scared, Joel had you backed up against the wall of his home and the look in his eyes told you that he meant every word about ruining you. Along with his hand at the base of your throat, his leg was between yours, his thigh pressed right up against your clothed center. As his words left his mouth you subconsciously grinded yourself down on his leg, trying to relieve the ache at your core. 

He looked down at what you were doing and tightened his hand around your throat, pushing you further against the wall, “Stop it,” He commanded, “You don’t get to choose when you feel good tonight, not after that performance.” 

He moved his hand from the base of your neck down your arm, it would have been quite romantic if he wasn’t currently looking at you like he wanted to kill you. He twisted you around, with your arm being held resting on the small of your back as he pushed you towards the stairs, “Get up the stairs.” 

You didn’t need telling twice, almost sprinting up the steps two at a time until you were in Joel’s room with the door slammed behind you. You were stood at the side of his bed, Joel’s eyes trained on you, moving from foot to foot awkwardly, waiting for your next instruction. 

“Take off your clothes.” 

Your hands immediately shoved your jacket off your shoulders, discarding it to the floor as you toed off your boots and kicked them away. A smirk appeared on Joel’s face as he watched you pull your t-shirt off, revealing your bra. It was well worn and not particularly sexy, but he was just a man. As you started on the button and zipper on your jeans you heard movement. Snapping your head up you watched as Joel was palming his cock though his jeans whilst he watched you undress, his length already bulging behind his clothes. 

He looked at you as if you say, “What’s taking you so long?” so you went right back to shucking your jeans off until you were stood in the room in just your underwear. 

“I said take them off, why have you stopped?” Joel spoke lowly, “Go on, finish up and get on the bed on your back.” 

You did exactly that, stepping out of your panties once you’d pulled them down your legs you sat down on the bed, shuffling back before lying down, spreading your legs for him. This had happened before, and you knew exactly what you were in for. Joel would pin you down and have his way with you, ignoring your pleads for his hands on your clit or for him to hit inside of you at a certain angle to make you cum. He would fuck you rough, sometimes spilling himself inside you, but mostly painting whatever part of your body he could get to the quickest with his cum, then he’d insist you slept, frustrated and unspent, until he woke the next morning to put his mouth between your legs and make up for everything. 

You let out an unexpected shriek when Joel’s hand wrapped around your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed so your ass was precariously sitting on the edge, the only thing keeping you from landing on the floor was that your legs were now slung over his shoulders. 

Oh my God, was he going to? Was all you could get through in your mind when his tongue licked a slow stripe up your pussy from your weeping hole to your clit, flicking the tip of his tongue over it slowly before looking up at you. 

“Maybe I’m not lookin’ after you well enough, darlin’,” He spoke, teasing your clit with his tongue for a second, “That why you needed to flirt with him, think he can do better than me?” 

“Joel, no..” You spoke, “I wasn’t… fuck… I wasn’t flirting.” You forced from your mouth as he continued his assault on your clit. 

“Not flirting?” He murmured, slipping two of his fingers into your aching pussy, “You didn’t lean up against the bar and flutter your pretty little eyelashes at him?”

“Oh my god,” You groaned, grinding your hips down onto his fingers, “I was just being nice.”  “Just being nice when you put your hand on his arm when he offered you a drink?” His tongue was back on your clit, adding an extra sensation to his fingers curling inside you. 

You couldn’t answer, the feeling of both his fingers and his tongue were too much, all you could manage were moans and breaths. 

“Gone awful quiet now, darlin’.” He stated, pulling his mouth away from you and stilling his fingers, “Answer me.” 

“I’m sorry,” You pleaded, desperate tears forming at the corners of your eyes at the loss of friction, “I won’t do it again, I promise.” 

“Good girl.” He said, finally moving his fingers again, pressing chaste kisses to the inside of your thighs as he brought you back to teetering on the edge. 

It was almost like he could sense you were close – he wrapped his lips over your clit and sucked at it, stopping only to switch between that and flicking his tongue over it. Your orgasm threw you over the edge suddenly, you were calling out his name into the dark of the room, hands tangling in his hair as his fingers and mouth worked you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

He let your legs fall from his shoulders as he stood up, looking down at you with his dark eyes as he shed his own clothes, “On your hands and knees darlin’.” He spoke once he was naked, jerking his cock as you spread yourself out like he enjoyed.

He gave you little time to ready yourself for him, burying his thick cock into your pussy immediately. A filthy moan fell from your lips as he began thrusting, not giving you the usual time to adjust to his size within you. 

“Oh god Joel…” You moaned, “You’re so fucking good inside me.” 

“You like that?” He asked, punctuating it with a particularly brutal thrust into your pussy, “No-one else is ever going to make you feel like this, you understand?” 

“Yes Joel…” Another moan, and another brutal thrust into you, “Only you, only ever want you.” 

He leaned forward, snaking a hand around your hips as he was fucking you, his fingers landing straight on your clit to rub tight circles around it, his front laid across your back as he did so. A kiss was placed at the top of your spine, an intimate feeling against how rough he was being, “All mine, aren’t you darlin’?” He asked while you could feel the tightening in your tummy that you were close.

“All yours Joel,” You moaned, “Oh my god, please let me cum.” 

“I ain’t stoppin’ you darlin’,” He chuckled, face close to your ear, “Cum for me any time you like.” 

His fingers finally tipped you over the edge, another shriek of his name falling from your mouth as your pussy clenched around his cock, still thrusting deep into you. His fingers left your clit as he pushed himself back, grabbing onto your hips with a bruising intensity as he fucked into your pussy, searching for his own release which you soon felt. 

He stilled inside of you, filling your pussy with his seed as his name groaned from his lips. As he pulled out you could feel him trickle down your thigh. Joel used his flannel shirt to clean you as best he could before throwing it into the basket full of washing he needed to do at some point in the near future. 

He gathered you up and settled you both under the sheets of his bed, placing a soft kiss to your forehead as you breathed in his scent, “Shall I tell you a secret?” You murmured against his skin. 

“Always, darlin’.”  “I flirted with him on purpose.” You let out a giggle, Joel’s hand flying to your ass to give you a squeeze. 

“Give me a minute to recover and I’m going to teach you a lesson.” 

[huntingingoodwill]

personal shopping (d.b.)

masterlist

pairing: dieter bravo x personal shopper! reader

desc: your newest client, dieter bravo, braves the outside world to flirt with you at the farmer’s market. though it defeats the point of hiring a personal shopper, you’ll let him, ‘cuz he’s cute. you’ll play hard to get though. (and mention that javi gutierrez is your favourite celeb client, just to make him jealous)

“He said he needs someone to ‘deal with groceries and shit’ so he can ‘meditate on his art’, which is probably a euphemism for doing coke and wearing the same sweatpants for a week. Don’t tell him I said that.” Lia sighed.

She had introduced herself as Dieter’s personal assistant’s assistant, which you thought was slight overkill, but you weren’t in any position to judge. You had now joined her in Dieter’s league of many ‘personals’. He had a personal assistant, a personal chef, a personal trainer, and now you were his personal shopper.

She led you through his mansion in the hills, thrusting you into the nucleus of his ‘meditation’: a cavernous living room cluttered with empty liquor bottles and designer furniture covered in paint splatter.

“Lee-uhhhhhhh.” Dieter lay face down on the plush carpet, which you thought was quite an unconventional meditation position. “What time is it?”

You watched as he nuzzled his head into the crook of his elbow, trying to block out the rays of sun that shot through the windows. His soft, unruly curls caught the light, glowing warm in the sun as the nape of his neck prickled with sweat.

“10:30, Mr. Bravo.” Lia said, her voice artificially chipper.

“In the morning?” He grumbled, rolling onto his back.

You caught sight of his face, the skin dipping between his brow as he furrowed it, rubbing a hand across the stubble peppered across his jaw. Despite looking an absolute mess, he still looked cuter than he did in his shitty movies. You admired the curve of his nose and his disgruntled, sleepy profile as he kept his eyes closed against the sun. The tan skin of his bare torso was visible beneath an oversized teddy jacket, paired with sweatpants slung low on his hips.

“Was it really necessary to wake me up at this ungodly hour?“ He blinked sleep from his eyes, the irises dark and honeyed as they glimmered in the light.

He caught sight of you, a sudden glint sparking alight in his eyes. His mouth, set with displeasure only a moment ago, began to break out in a smile. He looked up at you, dishevelled and adoring. “Oh. Hello.”

“Hello, Mr. Bravo.” You smirked, watching him scramble to his feet amongst the clutter of crushed paint tubes. You held out your hand.

“Call me Dieter. All my friends call me Dieter.” He intercepted your hand, fingers lingering appreciatively. “We’re gonna be friends, aren’t we?”

You tried to stifle a laugh. As soon as he looked at you you knew he’d be a relentless flirt. It was cute, in a pathetic way.

“I think I’m gonna be your employee, Mr. Bravo.” You corrected, ever the professional. He was cute, but there was no harm in making him work for it a little. “I was just about to head to the market, so I wanted to ask if you have a budget, or any dietary restrictions-”

“Let Mr. Bravo get back to his painting, I can fill you in on the details-” Lia began.

“I can explain everything.” Dieter interrupted. “I’ll even come along.” He said, shoving off his jacket. You felt heat creep up your cheeks as you eyed the broad expanse of his back, the muscle beneath the skin pulling taut as he searched for a clean shirt, pulling it over his head.

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of hiring a personal shopper?”

“We’ll call it a trial run. Just so you know what I like. Or we could call it something else. ‘First date’ has a nice ring to it.” He grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulder, a sensation that felt nicer than you cared to admit.

“You come on strong, don’t you?” You mumbled through a derisive smile, feeling his ego expand as you allowed him to keep his arm around you.

“Always.”

“Don’t you have some artistic meditation to do? Lia said you weren’t interested in ‘groceries and shit’.” You said, sidling through the stalls of the farmer’s market.

The cramped little lanes were filled with people, recognition flashing in their eyes as they caught sight of Dieter, who trailed after you.

“This is artistic meditation. I’m watching my new muse at work.” He said matter-of-factly, swinging your basket, which he had offered to carry for you, in his hand. His rings stood out starkly, flashing against the wicker handle.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a grin.

“Lia gave me a list of ingredients your personal chef needs, but do you have any other requests? Any ingredients for when your chef has an off day?”

“I don’t cook. When he has an off day, I just deliver.” Dieter adjusted his sunglasses, which you were starting to believe were less of a means to disguise himself from the prying eyes of the public and more because his hangover couldn’t bear the light. “Just buy me whatever, as long as it’s organic, cage free, GMO free, chemical free…” He said, taking a sip of water from his bottle.

You internally groaned. Though you were used to these buzzwords being haphazardly thrown about by your other clients without really knowing what they meant, you were hoping he’d be exempt.

“Water is a chemical compound.” You muttered, stopping in front of a produce stall, fruits and vegetables enticingly overflowing from the crates before you.

You could see his eyes widening behind the dark lenses of his shades from the corner of your eye as he spat the water back into its bottle.

“Water is a chemical?!” He spluttered.

You arched an eyebrow. “And I saw five KitKat wrappers on your carpet this morning.”

“We all make mistakes.” He chuckled, wicking away water from his mouth as he watched you reach for a lemon, its peel a vibrant yellow. “But that’s unimportant. Will you go out with me?”

A smile broke out across your face, unable to hide your amusement at his direct nature. You handed him the lemon, admiring the black ink of his tattoos etched across his skin as he extended his arm to place it in the basket.

“I don’t date men who can’t cook.”

“You’ll have to teach me then. It can be our second date.” He ran his hand through his hair, teeth flashing in a smile. His hair, already tousled, seemed to become even more unruly, and you resisted the urge to run your hand through it to help him fix it.

“Not part of my job description. I just help my clients buy what they need. Groceries, furniture, clothes… but I doubt you’re very interested in the last one.” You smirked, pointedly looking at his feet, clad in crocs and socks.

He looked down at the fashion offence he was adorned with, shrugging. “Fashion is a social construct. I’d wear a different pair of shoes if you’d go out with me, though.”

“I don’t go out with my clients.” You said, voice bubbling with laughter.

“But if you had to go out with any of your clients, it’d be me, right?”

“It’d probably be…” You wracked your mind, going through your list of clients to find a suitable candidate. “Javi Gutierrez.”

“That hack?”

“I don’t think he’s a hack!” You laughed, defensive. “He’s a good actor.”

“I’m a good actor.” He exclaimed, only to be met with your raised eyebrows and a shrug as you turned toward the next stall.

“Your silence speaks volumes.” He mumbled, faking a hurt tone as he followed close behind you.

“If you like him so much, some people say I look like Javi. We could always play pretend.” He smirked.

You put down the jar of honey you were examining, scanning Dieter up and down, as if trying to look for a resemblance.

“Hmm… don’t see it.” You sighed nonchalantly, refocusing your attention on the neatly stacked rows of jars before you.

“Since you think so highly of Javi, what do you think of me?” Dieter said, a crush of people moving through the lane forcing him close to you. You tried to keep your cool as you held his intense gaze, the cologne he spritzed on before he left the house deep and musky, the vivid scent clouding your senses. You swallowed thickly.

“I think you’re pretentious and hedonistic.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” He smiled, feigning innocence.

“Are you in denial, or do you just have a small vocabulary?”

“Can’t it be both?” He laughed. He looked around, making sure no one was watching, before dipping toward you, his lips barely ghosting the curve of your ear, his husky voice ringing in your head. “If you think using your big words to insult me will scare me off, you’re wrong. It just makes me more attracted to you.”

“Good.” You said, praying he wouldn’t feel the heat radiating off you, a blush blooming across your jaw. You ignored the playful smile on his face, keeping your hands busy as you aimlessly picked through produce. You bought a ripe apple, wiping it clean on your shirt.

Dieter’s eyes lingered on your lips as you took a bite, the crisp skin breaking beneath your teeth.

“So, you’ll go out with me?” He asked.

He held out his hand, and before you even registered what was happening, you had given him the apple, the red, glossy skin gleaming against his rough palm. He took a bite, the fruit’s flesh crunching as juice dribbled down his forearm, tracing the veins beneath his skin.

“Not happening.”

[chiriwritesstuff]

The New Girl in Tinseltown - Dieter Bravo x Actress! Reader AU, Coming Soon!

Series Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Series Summary: What happens when America’s New Girl-Next-Door is caught canoodling with a semi-washed up actor who is on the verge of losing his next movie role? You strike up a mutually beneficial PR relationship, of course!

It’s all pretend, right? It’s not like you could actually fall for Dieter fucking Bravo… or can he convince you to take a chance?

Coming (very) soon!

Series Warnings & Tags: (Not so) meet cute, PR Relationships, Dieter Bravo and Actress Reader, Drunk Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Coworker Sex, Jealous! Dieter, Shy Actress Girl Next Door Reader, He falls first, She falls later, Recreational Drug Use, Not so slow burn, Hate Sex, Awkward Sex, Fluff (even if its pretend), Fake Marriage, Real feelings, Idiots in love

[javier-pena]

So ... I recently hit 10,000 followers, which is completely insane to me!! I wish I could thank each and everyone of you who has been here since the beginning or who followed two days ago personally, but that's just not possible. Instead, I'm doing a small request-based fic celebration 🤭

What is it about?

You can choose from a list of characters and a list of prompts (or send in your own) and I will write a (hopefully) short fic (1-3k words) based on your request. You can choose a stand-alone fic or request something that fits into one of my longer stories (Hubris, Triumvirate, In Plain Sight, the Javi G universe). Please send in your requests until April 27!

How to send in your requests?

Please send me an ask (anonymous or not) specifying the following:

Step 1: Do you want your fic to be reader insert?

Please specify the gender (if there is no specification, I will most likely write f!reader, but I might choose something else if I think it fits the prompt). You don't have to choose just one character, you can also choose more, e.g. Javi Gutierrez x f!reader x Dieter Bravo x Agent Whiskey. Your request doesn't have to be reader insert, you can also request a specific dynamic, e.g. Javier Peña x Joel Miller.

Step 2: Do you want your fic to be nsfw?

If you want your fic to be nsfw or if you don't want it to be nsfw please specify this in your request. If you don't, I will write whatever fits the prompt.

Step 3: Is there anything you want me to avoid?

If there are any triggers, themes, character traits etc. you don't want me to include, please tell me. The fics will come with warnings but I wouldn't want to write something you can't/don't want to read for whatever reason.

Step 4: Choose one or more character(s)!

I will write for the following characters. You can send in a different character too, but there is no guarantee I will write your request unless it's another character from the movie/show that's on the list (e.g. Tommy Miller).

Dieter Bravo (The Bubble)

Clint (Freaky Tales)

Jack Daniels/Agent Whiskey (Kingsman: The Golden Circle)

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

Ezra (Prospect)

Lucien Flores (The Uninvited)

Javi Gutierrez (The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent)

Joel Miller (The Last of Us)

Frankie Morales (Triple Frontier)

Arthur Morgan (Red Dead Redemption 2)

Javier Peña (Narcos)

Tess Servopoulos (The Last of Us)

Silva (Strange Way of Life) - I will not write x f!reader for Silva

Dave York (The Equalizer 2)

Step 5: Choose a promt!

You can choose up to three of the following prompts or send in your own.

"Is it okay if I sleep here tonight?"

"And what are you going to do about that?"

"I would love to spoil you, can I do this for you?"

"I can't stop thinking about kissing you."

"I don't like you!" "Finally something we can agree on."

“My tongue still remembers the way you taste.”

“Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you.”

"Can you just look at me? Please?"

"Don't play with me."

"It's not your choice."

"Please tell me I can touch you."

"Make me beg for it."

"Oh, you're hard to please."

"Let's ruin ourselves for anyone else."

"You're still holding back, just let go."

"I don't want you to say that you love me. Love will not fix anything. It just makes everything more complicated."

"Don't look at me like that." "How am I looking at you?"

"I cannot change my feelings for you, believe me, I fucking tried."

"You knew how I feel about you. You have to have known."

"Don't make me jealous."

"I'm going to be here when you wake up."

"I could make you beg for it." "I would love to see you try."

"I already have a boyfriend." "That's great. Invite him as well."

"It was just a kiss."

"I don't feel like we're close enough to have this type of conversation."

"Oh, jealousy looks good on you."

"Do you still have feelings for me?" "Well, do you still have feelings for me?" "I asked first."

"Three years was not enough to get over you."

"What if someone sees us?"

"You're not my dirty little secret. And I never want you to think that."

"No, I refuse to believe that you would do that to me."

"You're just saying that to be nice. No need to pity me." "What I feel for you is definitely not pity."

Step 6: Have fun!

And if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to message me!

[mothandpidgeon]

Southpaw (Dieter Bravo drabble)

Character: Dieter Bravo

Summary: After an accident leaves Dieter without the use of a hand, he becomes acquainted with the other.

Words: 600

Rating: E 18+

Warnings: masturbation

a/n: I was inspired by @iamskyereads’s fantastic fic Repose which was inspired by Pedro’s injury to write a little drabble about another injured Pedro boy. Not quite sure what this is but I guess I was also inspired by Bob Belcher talking to his Thanksgiving turkey.

As always thanks to number one Dieter stan @ezrasbirdie for the lil beta.

MASTERLIST - JOIN THE TAGLIST

Dieter is a lefty. Sure, he signs autographs with his right hand, brushes his teeth, scrolls his phone. But when it comes to the most important pursuit, he uses his left. He’s not sure when it started or why but he’s always enjoyed the tender touch of his left hand.

So when a yoga accident leaves his left wrist in a splint, Dieter is inconsolable. The doctor gives him strict instructions to keep the appendage still. No exercise, no lifting, no vigorous activity. His agent says that he might be recast in his upcoming role since his injury is jeopardizing the entire shooting schedule. Dieter could care less. He’s devastated that he’s lost his most loyal companion, even temporarily.

His cock hasn’t gotten the memo. Duty calls and he’s all alone with a tent in his pants. Whether he likes it or not, the show must go on and the understudy will have to perform.

He admires his right hand for a while. His nails are manicured nicely. Same wide palm and thick fingers as the left. There’s no reason why Righty shouldn’t be up to the task.

He tries it— timid, the grip around him unfamiliar. The hand holds him with a sureness he wasn’t expecting. It makes him blush, a boyish excitement. His thumb swipes mischievously through a strand of precum that’s sliding its way down his length. Dieter shivers. Maybe there’s something to this frisky right hand.

Feeling his own hard cock in a new fist is different too. He takes the time to notice its slight curve, the veins. There’s a good amount of thickness. It throbs— needy, impatient. Dieter douses himself with lube and settles in.

The first tug is too rough. Dieter hisses and his useless left hand scrunches into a fist. If only it could step in and take over. The left has done this so much, it’s second nature. Now all it can do is watch.

He shakes it off.

Dieter tries a gentler approach. Soft, teasing touches that make him dizzy. It’s hardly enough, though. At this rate, he’ll edge himself for hours.

The work is clumsy at first but he finds a rhythm after testing out languid pulls and rapid pulses. The thrust of his slick hand makes a sloppy sort of music. He starts to put his apprehensions aside and really enjoy himself.

Just like that.

It feels like a stranger is touching him and what a handsome one he is. When he closes his eyes, it could be anybody down there. A mouth, a cunt, anything he’d like to fuck. He flips through a catalogue of obscenities in his mind, each one leaving him hotter than the next.

The sensation is exquisite. He’s fucking his own hand, hips lifting as he babbles nonsense about how it takes it so good. Pleasure drowns him as his right hand moves faster by a will of its very own. He can feel his cock begin to twitch and pulse in his palm. Overwhelmed and possessed, he moans and bucks and soon he’s spurting all over Righty. The left must be jealous.

As his muscles unwind, his hand slows. He can hardly stop it and, had he use of the other, he might grab himself by the wrist. He’s too sensitive and each caress makes him gasp. His over eager right hand isn’t ready to call it quits.

Dieter’s head falls back. His heart slows. He examines the sticky spend between his fingers, still shining with lube. His new friend, his right hand man.

Let’s get you cleaned up.

They’ve got work to do.

---

MASTERLIST - JOIN THE TAGLIST

[softstarlite]

Here are some fics that I really love!! <3

(I add more when I remember others or read new ones)

I also invite you to check my masterlist and read my stuff <3

Divider by @saradika-graphics and banner by me

Narcos

Javier Peña

Learning to live by @wheresarizona (series)

Javier Peña x f!reader

The crush by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (series)

Javier Peña x OFC!Isabel

Deja vú by @ilovepedro (series)

Javier Peña x f!reader

Old habits die hard by @liltangerineart (series)

Javier Peña x latina f!reader

Take the weight off his shoulders by @thetriumphantpanda (series)

dbf!Javier Peña x f!reader

Late night texts by @undercoverpena (series)

Javier Peña x f!reader

Jealous of your love by @chloeangelic (one-shot)

Javier Peña x f!reader

Anytime by @undercoverpena (one-shot)

Javier Peña x f!reader

The Bubble

Dieter Bravo

Sweet Creature by @wildemaven (series)

Dieter Bravo x f!reader

I'll never fall in love again by @oonajaeadira (series)

Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Cherry by @sp00kymulderr (series)

Dieter Bravo x f!reader x f!OC

Triple Frontier

Benny Miller

Wild Love by @wildemaven (series)

Benny Miller x single mom!reader

Frankie Morales

Learning curves by @ezrasbirdie (series)

Frankie Morales x plus size f!reader

Hate me by @theewokingdead (one shot)

Frankie Morales x f!reader

Breaking free by @theewokingdead (one-shot)

Frankie Morales x plus size f!reader

Hungry by @criticallyacclaimedstranger (one-shot)

Frankie Morales x reader

Catalyst by @ezrasbirdie (series)

Frankie Morales x f!reader x Joel Miller

The book of love by @undercoverpena

Frankie Morales x f!reader (Bookshop AU)

Santiago Garcia

If you wanna be wild by @romanarose (series)

Santi Garcia x f!reader x Javier Peña

All triple frontier boys

Awakening by @romanarose (series) triple

Frontier boys x f!reader

The Last of Us

Joel Miller

To the rescue by @romanarose (one-shot)

Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Love me back by @chloeangelic (series)

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rendezvous by @chloeangelic (series)

dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Belong to me by @chloeangelic (series)

Line cook!Joel Miller x waitress reader

Reflection of the moon by @chloeangelic (series)

Joel Miller x f!reader

(I just really love how Chloe writes Joel)

I know it when I see it by @bageldaddy (series)

pornstar!joel miller x f!reader

Lacy by @toxic-seduction (one-shot)

Joel Miller x f!reader

I wanna show you off by @joelscurls (one-shot)

Joel Miller x f!reader

Breakout by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (series)

Boxer!Joel Miller x f!reader

Strawberry wine by @pedrito-friskito (series)

Joel Miller x f!OC

Your summer dream by @swiftispunk (series)

dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Dog Days by @pimosworld

Tommy Miller

Joel Miller x f!reader

Sweet Child O'Mine by @bageldaddy (series)

Joel Miller x f!reader

Wrong place, right time by @proxima-writes (one-shot)

Tommy Miller x waitressf!reader

[rhoorl]

Working Title | Chapter 15

Pairing: Dieter Bravo/OFC

Rating: Mature, 18+, for the love of all things please don’t engage if you are a minor ok? 

Word Count: 5k

Series Masterlist | AO3 Chapter 15 Link

Chapter Summary: We spend our last day on set before the long weekend. Dieter has a full day of activities planned for Belle.

Chapter Warnings: This is pretty fluffy. Dieter is a bit of a menace. Squint for some possessive/jealous Dieter.

A/N: So like most things with these two, I have a general idea and outline and then I go off on a tangent. I ended up splitting Dieter's date into two parts because it was getting long (which means I'll hopefully be able to upload Ch. 16 sooner since it's written and being edited). So I hope you enjoy this first part and the cameo I slipped in because I literally cannot help myself. More notes from me at the end!

Thanks to some speedy work from room service, you and Dieter settle into bed with some snacks, ready to watch a movie. True to form, you didn't make it past the first twenty minutes. But how could you? You were tired from a long day of being on your feet, your back ached, and you were in a comfortable bed cuddled up next to Dieter who was basically a human electric blanket. Feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he played with your hair was enough to lull you to sleep.

When your eyes flutter open, you turn and feel an empty spot on the bed. It was pretty cold which means Dieter had been gone for a while. Checking your phone you see it's about 10 minutes until your alarm is set to go off anyway. You stretch and get out of bed, thinking you'd go and surprise your handsome barista, who was probably busy getting your coffee ready.

As you head down the hallway, you don't see any lights on in the kitchen. You do, however, see a light coming from the couch in the living room as you spot Dieter sitting with his back to you on his phone.

"Psst," you whisper over to him.

He turns around and smiles, getting up to come over to you. You still get butterflies seeing this man with no shirt on and a messy mop of curls at the top of his head.

"Hey, shit, sorry I didn't realize what time it was," he kisses you. "I need to get your coffee ready."

You smile as he kisses you again, his arms coming to your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

"It's hard to get good help around here," you tease.

"Is that so? Well, I only aim to please, so I better get to work," he winks as he taps your ass and heads to the kitchen.

"What were you doing up so early?" You follow him and lean against the kitchen island, trying not to salivate as you see the muscles in his back flex as he makes quick work of getting your coffee ready.

"I…um," he stops and turns to look at you, a little bashful. "I was trying to confirm some last-minute things for …um, a surprise. I know it’s your day off, but are you ok if we get an early start tomorrow? I know there's the luau tonight, but I have kind of a full day planned…."

“A full day?” you cut him off, smirking.

“Ah, yeah,” he ran his hand through his hair. “Fuck, that’s a lot, isn’t it? It’s too much, I know…” he starts to shake his head and you walk around the kitchen island and cup his face with your hands, lightly scratching his stubble with your fingernails.

“I am so flattered. You have a full day planned…just for me?” Your coy smile is enough to make Dieter’s shoulders relax. His smile reaches his eyes as he wraps his arms around you.

“Whole day, just for you,” he tilts down smiling and kissing your waiting lips. 

You rush through the rest of your morning routine, which kept getting delayed by Dieter who would pull you into a kiss every now and again. He follows you around like a little lost puppy, perching himself on the tub as you get ready and then sitting on the bed as you pick out your clothes and get dressed.

“Ok, time to get to work,” you smile.

You both slowly make your way down the hallway to Dieter’s suite, knowing you probably won’t have alone time until later tonight. You reluctantly pull away from him, giving him one last kiss before you make your way to the elevator. He’s leaned up against the wall watching you with a soft look in his eyes, like he was trying to commit your face to memory.

The morning goes by rather quickly as you and Brianna work on several principal and background actors. You’re getting ready to head to set with Sam when Dieter walks into the makeup and hair trailer

"Hey," he smiles, bringing you in for a hug and kissing the top of your head. "Hi Brianna," he waves.

“Hi, Dieter.”

“You, ah, have any plans for the long weekend?” he asks her as he rubs your lower back and you lean your head against his chest.

“Oh, um, me?” She looks at you and smiles. “Ah, probably going to go to the beach, maybe do some snorkeling. I think a few of us are gonna go ziplining or something.”

“Nice, sounds fun.”

“A-are you doing anything fun?” She winces as soon as she says it, looking at you apologetically.

“I have a few things planned,” he winks. “I’ll catch you both later, don’t wanna make you late.”

And with that, you head to set, giddy and still feeling his large hand on your back.

You had a pretty easy day on set, only a few scenes which Sam and Indy wrapped up quickly. Everyone was buzzing, excited for the evening’s festivities and the impending long weekend. Indy shot you a text to come meet her at her trailer when you finished cleaning up and packing everything away. When you arrive you give your customary three knocks and she quickly opens the door.

“Hey babe!” She ushers you in.

“Hey! You ready for tonight?”

“Yeah! Should be fun, but I’m more looking forward to the weekend,” she waggles her eyebrows. “Do you have any idea what Sam is up to?”

You shake your head, trying to not say anything although you know can read you like a book.

“B, you are a terrible fucking liar,” she laughs.

“I don’t want to ruin the surprise, but you’re going to love it and he’s super excited about it. It’s actually so freaking cute,” you smile, knocking your shoulder into hers as you open her refrigerator and grab a water. “Just make sure you pack a bag.”

“Hmm…well, he told me we’re leaving early tomorrow so I’ll pack when we get back. I’ll stay in his room tonight.”

“Oh sure, what a sacrifice,” you tease as she rolls her eyes. “But, sounds like I’m gonna need to get up early tomorrow too.” Your coy smile gives you away as Indy busts out in giggles. 

“Ohhh…early day for you tomorrow too, huh? What’s Dieter’s got planned?”

“I don’t know, he just says it’s a whole day.”

“Eeeek, Belle, he’s got it bad for you, it is so fucking cute,” she shrieks. “Need me to have Ari grab you some condoms,” she winks. “You know … for your festivities.”

“Oh my gosh, Ind,” you roll your eyes. 

Back in your suite, the two of you put some music on and get ready together in Indy’s spacious bathroom. You work on getting her ready first, throwing in some loose beach waves in her hair, and going very natural with her makeup. As she sorts through what she wants to wear and pack for her trip, you put on some light makeup, focusing on your eyes, and then slicking your hair back into a bun.

“I’m not going to tell you what you’re doing, but just pack a few swimsuits, a dress or two, and some stuff for hiking,” you finally cave after an endless litany of questions.

“I need options, B, you know that. I think I’m just gonna pack two bags and we’ll see how it goes.”

You laugh to yourself and head down the hallway to your room and slip on a sundress. You are just finishing up buckling your sandals when you hear a knock at the door and the click-clacking of Indy’s heels. You get to the hallway just as she swings open the door, revealing both Dieter and Sam. 

Sam is dressed in black pants with a tropical-print shirt bursting with greens, blues, and yellows. His hair was slicked back and he trimmed his beard and looked so dashing. But as handsome as Sam was, you sucked in a breath when you saw Dieter in his khaki pants and a power blue short sleeve button-up with the top couple of buttons undone. As you get closer you squint, trying to make out the pattern, but Indy beats you to it.

“Are those fucking cranes on your shirt?” She chuckles.

“Uh, yeah,” he shifts his weight. 

“Well, I like it, you look great,” you walk up, kissing him on the cheek and feeling him relax.

“Thanks, baby,” he whispers in your ear, pulling back to look you up and down. “You look amazing. Both of you.”

“Thanks, Dee,” Indy winks. “You all good to go?”

Dieter takes your hand as the four of you head downstairs to the beach, where the resort staff set up the luau. It was fun to see everyone dressed up and enjoying themselves. Even Rhys and Liz are there, Liz giving you a knowing smile as her gaze drops down to your hand in Dieter’s. Because you were his date, you sit at the head table, clocking a tremendous eye roll from Aubrey as you walk by her table on the way to yours. 

The evening is a bit of a blur, between catching up with everyone, eating the amazing food, and watching the show. Before you knew it, it was over and everyone was starting to disperse. Ari, Danny, and Brianna were trying to get you all to go out to a bar, but Dieter faked a headache to give you two an easy out.

Dieter pulls you into the elevator as soon as it opens and repeatedly taps on the “Door Close” button to ensure you two are alone. As soon as the doors closed, he presses you against the wall cupping your face with one hand as the other wraps around your waist. His lips crash into yours for a hungry kiss. “I’ve been dying to get out of there,” he manages between kisses.

“Mmm, why’s that?” you try to be coy but your mewl gives you away as he nips along your jawline, moving towards that particular spot behind your ear that drives you wild.

“Because, I wanted you all to myself, baby,” he kisses down your neck along your collarbone. “You look so fucking good, you were drivin' me crazy in this dress, ya know that?” He pulls back, cupping your face as his thumb caresses your cheekbone.

Ding.

You arrive at your floor and you both giggle walking back to your room, sneaking kisses along the way. As soon as you walk into your suite, Dieter makes quick work of locking your door and walking you down to your room as he kisses you. “You know, I didn’t have any dessert downstairs,” he smiles against your lips. “Think you could help me with that?”

The next day you wake up to the smell of bacon and the sound of a squeaky wheel. You crack an eye open and see Dieter wheeling in a little cart, a box of cookies tucked in his arm.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he smiles. “I know it’s early, but we gotta get going. Our ride should be here soon to pick us up, but I tried to give you enough time to eat and get ready.”

He is clearly nervous, which is so cute. He moves to open the large glass sliding doors, so you can hear the crash of the waves.

“Mmm, breakfast in bed? I could get used to this you know?” You manage a smile as you get up and stretch.

Last night you and Dieter had fooled around a bit but kept things relatively tame. You slipped on his shirt again, loving the way it smelled just like him.

When you're sipping the last of your coffee, Dieter turns to you, "Ok, so our ride should be here in like half an hour, is that enough time for you to get ready?"

"Ah, yeah, depends…what am I getting ready for?"

"We're spending most of the day outside, so comfy clothes that you wouldn't mind getting dirty," his eyes rake up and down your body. "But maybe put on a swimsuit, you know in case you get wet."

You don't really even register the innuendo because you are so wrapped up in the thought of having to wear a swimsuit. Despite the fact that Dieter never made you feel uncomfortable about your body, it was hard to undo years of insecurities within just a few days. 

"Oh ah, I didn't bring one. I, uh, I don't know how to swim," you twist your mouth wishing you had more coffee to at least give your hands something to do.

"So you came to Hawaii, a place full of beaches and to a resort with a gigantic pool, and didn't bring a swimsuit? Not even to lounge around?" He cocks his head to the side with a skeptical look.

"I…uh…" You start to fidget and Dieter takes your hand and starts to rub small circles. "I do, I just…"

"Hey, it's just going to be me and you today, I uh, I made sure of it," he smiles. "You don't have to, but one of the places we're going to has a really pretty waterfall and swimming area and I uh…I thought it could be fun." Now it was his turn to be nervous as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"I'm sorry, old habits," you smile. "I'll throw it on. Anything else I should wear or pack?"

The light comes back into his eyes as he grins, "Awesome! And just wear some sneakers, they were very adamant about closed-toed shoes," he rolls his eyes. "But everything else has been taken care of."

You smile at him for a second, trying to not let your emotions get the better of you. You had never had a man plan a whole day for you like this. The most Ryan ever did was surprise you with dinner and a show, but that was early on when you just started dating. 

"C'mon we should get dressed," Dieter pulls you up and out of bed. 

You rummage through your drawers and find your swimsuit, a black one-piece halter-style suit that has a very classic silhouette along with some blue gym shorts and a gray racerback tank top.

"I'm gonna change and I'll be right back," you say as Dieter looks through his little duffle. 

"You can have that bottom drawer you know." You motion to your dresser.

"Yea?" He smirks. "Well, good to know. I may need to bring some more stuff over then," he winks.

You playfully roll your eyes as you head into the bathroom, closing the door so you can get changed. After slipping on your swimsuit and clothes you make quick work of putting on some sunscreen, concealer under your eyes, and mascara. You finish off by throwing your hair in a messy bun before opening the door back up.

Dieter is wearing an outfit you recognize from the photoshoot the other day. A pair of red shorts, which must also double as swim trunks, and a white short-sleeved button-down. Like at the shoot, he left the top couple of buttons undone. He honestly takes your breath away at how effortlessly handsome he looks and you feel like you look so shabby in comparison.

"You look perfect," the corners of his mouth turn up when he sees you.

"You look like a model," you chuckle. 

"Well, I showed Liz what I was originally thinking of wearing and she said absolutely fucking not, so here's the backup," he laughed. "Ready?"

You nod and grab your crossbody as Dieter takes your hand. As you open the door to the hallway, you see a small backpack sitting on the floor.

"Perfect, right on time," Dieter says to himself looking over at you. "Danny. I asked him to drop this off," he smiles as he slings the backpack over his shoulder.

"So where are we headed?" You ask as you both get into the elevator.

"It's a surprise," Dieter winks. "But the day has a theme so you may start to pick up on it as we go."

You squint and pursed your lips trying to glean any hints, but coming up empty. Going with the flow isn't usually your strong suit, that was more of an Indy thing, but you decide to just let things happen today and try to not overthink it. 

As you walk through the lobby to the valet you see a Jeep decked out like one of the jeeps from Jurassic Park. 

"Oh look, how cool!" You nod over towards it with your chin.

Dieter squeezes your hand and with the biggest smile says, "That's our ride!"

"Wait, what? Really?"

And as you approach, a man gets out. He has dark, curly hair sticking out of his baseball cap with "Jurassic Park Adventures" emblazoned on the front. He wore a white polo which had the same logo as his hat on the right side of his chest, and a simple pair of black shorts.

"Mr. Bravo?" The man asks, extending a hand to Dieter.

"Yeah, Dieter, please," Dieter gives a warm smile as he shakes the man's hand. "And this is Belle," he gestures to you.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Frankie. I'll be with you two for a couple of hours this morning," he shakes your hand. "You both ready?" 

Dieter looks over to you and even though you're still kind of confused as to what is going on you nod and Dieter helps you into the Jeep before sliding in after you.

You and Dieter make some small talk with Frankie as you drive. You recognize you’re on the road back to the airport, which is only a few minutes from your resort. Every time you tried to get a little hint as to what was coming, you'd see Frankie and Dieter exchange a glance in the rearview mirror. Clearly, Dieter has prepped the man that you were going to ask questions to figure out what was going on.

When you finally pull off the main road, you see a large building with a few Jurassic Park-themed Jeeps parked out front. And as you round a corner, you see a large open space with a helicopter, decked out with the same theming.

Dieter squeezes your thigh and looks a bit nervous, trying to gauge your reaction.

"Are we going in a helicopter?!" You look between Dieter and out the window to the helicopter. Dieter gives a small nod which makes you squeal. "Oh my gosh, I've always wanted to fly in a helicopter!"

Dieter blushes a bit as you kiss him on the cheek before getting out of the Jeep. 

Frankie gives you both a quick safety briefing and then walks you over to the helicopter. He mentions that you'll be seeing parts of the island that were used for shooting Jurassic Park as well as other films and TV shows.

"Wait, aren't there other people joining us?" You ask Frankie as Dieter trails behind.

Frankie looks behind you to Dieter for some confirmation before turning to you, "This is a private tour, just the two of you," he smiles. 

You turn around to Dieter who has a sheepish grin. Overcome with excitement you throw yourself at Dieter, wrapping your hands around his neck. "Oh my gosh, are you serious?! This is so cool!"

"I had a feeling you may like this," he winks.

"I'm so excited, this is … this is amazing. Thank you, baby," you kiss him and have to remind yourself that you aren't alone so as to not deepen the kiss more.

"I spared no expense," he winks.

I had a feeling she was going to like this, but seeing the way her entire face lit up knowing that we were doing this. The fact that I managed to get her a private tour to see the beautiful island that was the backdrop of her favorite movie. It's one of the best things I've done recently and worth every penny, even if I had to pay this guy an extra thousand because it was just the two of us. She's worth it. Seeing her smile, damn she has the most beautiful smile, it's worth it. And I want to do everything I can to keep her smiling. Because I … I love her. I'm past falling in love with her, I'm firmly rooted and there's no turning back. She has a piece of my heart.

Frankie gets you buckled in and hands over a headset giving you a thumbs up as he moves over to make sure Dieter is secured. 

"Alright, you both ready?" You hear Frankie's deep voice in the headset.

"Ready!" Dieter looks over, giddy with excitement.

"Yeah, let's do this," you reach over to squeeze Dieter's knee.

Frankie gently talks to the helicopter, like he's trying to coax it off the ground. Suddenly you feel a gentle lift off and you take off. Within minutes you can see your resort underneath you along with an amazing sunrise.

"I'll try and angle us as best as we can, but the sunrise is going to be out of your right-hand side," Frankie pops in.

You grab your phone to snap a couple of photos, before flipping the camera so you can take a selfie with Dieter, who leans over and gives you a kiss on the cheek, causing you to giggle.

"Ok so if you look out on the right you'll see the Hanapepe Valley. Some of the most beautiful rainbows on the island. We'll be at our stop here in a few so sit back and relax."

"A stop?"

Dieter laughs at your confusion and gives a coy smile.

Frankie expertly starts to wind the aircraft through some valleys, going further into the island. You don't see any roads, just rich, luscious greenery. He rounds a corner and the sight takes your breath away. You bring your hands to cover your mouth.

"And that right there is Manawaiopuna Falls. It's 400 feet high and is featured in the iconic shot-"

"Of when Hammond brings everyone to the island. Is this…is this where they shot the helicopter landing?" You look excitedly out the windows not catching how Dieter's look softens seeing how excited you are.

"You are a big fan huh?" Frankie chuckles in the headset. "Well, I'll spare you my script about the scene since you know it. But this is a secluded waterfall, only accessible by helicopter. Want me to land this thing and take a look around?"

"What?! Seriously. Oh my gosh, yes!" You grab your phone and film the descent.

"Ok, sit tight." Frankie clicks a bunch of switches and powers down the helicopter. Once he's done he hops out and opens the door on Dieter's side helping to unbuckle him and grab his headset. Dieter follows Frankie around to the other side and waits patiently as the man helps get you unbuckled, although you catch Dieter glancing to make sure Frankie's hands stay where they should, which makes you smirk. Frankie offers you his hand to get out, which you take and flash him a big smile. 

"Alright, so you've got about 20 minutes or so to explore. Try to not go too much beyond those trees," he nods to the jungle to your right. "Technically you're not supposed to swim in the waterfall, but I won't say anything if you don’t. Just do me a favor and don’t take any photos if you do,” he winks. “I’m just gonna hang in here, you guys have fun!” He turns and heads back to the helicopter. 

You are absolutely stunned by this view. The waterfall is loud, but there is something so relaxing about it. The mist coming off of the waterfall hits your skin as you move closer to it, closing your eyes and taking it all in. You feel Dieter behind you as he wraps his arms around your waist. 

He nuzzles into your neck and you can practically hear his smile, “You like it?”

You turn around, misty-eyed as you look at him. “This is…amazing. I, I have no words.” You get up on your tip toes and kiss him.

“Well, this is only the beginning,” he manages between kisses as you work your hands through his hair. A soft moan comes out as you slightly tug on his hair. “Don’t forget that we have company,” he smiles into your kiss and then pulls back. “Though, I’ve never been one to turn down a crowd,” he winks.

You roll your eyes and bring your hands down to rest on his chest. “Did he say we can go swimming?”

“See why I told you to wear a suit?”

“Oh shit, I don’t have a towel.”

“I do,” he turns his head and looks at the backpack on the ground. 

“What else do you have in there,” you move toward the bag before Dieter steps in front of you.

“Ah ah ah, you didn’t say the magic words,” he smiles.

“Oh my gosh, you’re going to throw in movie lines all day aren’t you?” You chuckle.

“C’mon, I couldn’t pass that one up. Here, quick let’s go, we don’t have a lot of time here.”

You don’t have time to think about your insecurities or how you look, you quickly peel off your top and pull down your shorts, hearing Dieter suck in a breath. 

“I really like this,” he moves closer and runs his hand down your side. 

“It’s just a plain black suit, it’s kinda boring.”

“How can it be boring when you look like that? I lo- I love it,” he smiles.

“Do you know how deep this water is?” You grab his hand, looking nervously towards the pool. 

“No idea. You know how to swim?” You shake your head. “Well, guess you gotta hold on to me then,” he winks. “C’mon.”

He grabs your hand and leads you into the water. It’s cool but refreshing. Despite the roaring waterfall down the way, this section is relatively calm. You wade further in and when the water starts to come up to your chest, Dieter pulls you close, “I’m gonna pick you up, ok? Wrap your legs around my waist.”

You are thankful that you are in the water, so Dieter won’t be able to feel how absolutely wet this request makes you. You wrap your arms around his neck as his hands reach down to the back of your thighs pulling your legs up so you can wrap around his waist, crossing your ankles behind his back. 

“I feel kind of like a koala,” you laugh.

“Well, I happen to love koalas,” he chuckles as his hands trail down, kneading your ass as he walks further in before stopping to float.

You close your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder, trying to savor this moment. “I feel like this is a dream,” you finally say, pulling back and looking at him, playing with the back of his hair. “Thank you, this is amazing. You’re really sweet for doing this.”

“You don’t think this is too much?” He bites his bottom lip.

“I love it,” you smile, kissing his forehead and nuzzling your nose against his. 

You both stay like that for a moment, you feel like your breathing has synced up. You shift a little bit, slightly readjusting your legs around Dieter’s waist. “You keep moving around like that baby, and we definitely are gonna give that guy a show,” he smiles. 

“Oh my gosh,” you giggle, going back to resting your head on his shoulder as he floats you both around.

After a few moments, you hear someone clear their throat, remembering that you did in fact have someone else there with you. You both turn your heads to the shore to see Frankie awkwardly standing there. He pulls his hat off and runs his fingers through his hair before returning the cap back, “Hey, uh, we should probably get going soon. Lots more to see,” he gives a tight-lipped smile.

“Okay, we’ll be out in a sec,”

“You sure you’re ok to get out,” you wink at him.

“Ha, very funny,” he chuckles.

He leads you back out of the water and grabs a towel, wrapping you in it before he grabs one for himself. When you’ve gotten as dry as you were going to get, you slip your shorts back on again.

“Ok, you both ready to get back in and see the rest?”

“Absolutely!” you practically skip back to the helicopter and wait for Frankie to help you back in.

As you ascend again, Frankie pops back onto the headset to let you know that you’re going to check out some of the sights along the NaPali Coast. “This is the kind of stuff you can’t see from a car, only in the air.”

You are torn between wanting to savor this experience and filming the entire flight so you can capture the beauty and watch it again. Ultimately you wanted to be in the moment. The majestic mountains, the cliffs dropping off into a water so blue, you didn’t know how to describe this sight. 

“Oh my goodness, this is absolutely beautiful.” You say into the headset.

“It definitely is,” you hear Dieter say, not realizing he was looking directly at you when he said it.

Frankie weaves the helicopter further into the island and you see ancient caves while he tells you some of the history of the island. You make it over to Bali Hai and Lumahai Beach, where he tells you they shot scenes from South Pacific. The hour tour feels like it’s over within minutes and before you know it, you’re descending back down.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A/N: I cannot help myself, they were in a freaking helicopter. Although it’s called Jurassic Park Adventures, this is totally a nod to @sin-djarin’s Catfish Aviation business card post. Also, this helicopter tour is a legitimate one. I haven’t personally been on it, but I want to since Jurassic Park is one of my favorite movies of all time.

I appreciate you making it this far and I hope you like what's in store for Chapter 16 ... we finally get that slow burn payoff (at least I hope you think so!). Thank you for reading. I appreciate all of the kind comments, reblogs, and likes. My inbox is open if you want to say hi!

Tag list: @musings-of-a-rose / @legendary-pink-dot / @bitchwitch1981 / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @gracie7209 / @amneris21 / @pastelnap / @maryfanson / @sunnywithachanceofjavi / @sin-djarin / @winchestergypsy90 / @for-a-longlongtime /@harriedandharassed / @titlee78 / @midnightraain / @poodlebae / @partyofone3413 / @guelyury / @weho2kcmo / @missladym1981

[joels-shitty-puns]

A's Fic Masterlist

❤️ Thanks for reading

Pedro Pascal:

The Key to Your Heart 🎹🎙️ - Series(10/?)

Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader ❤️❤️‍🩹 (AFAB,fem,plus-sized,inexperienced)

Melt With You (requested) ☀️❄️

Pedro Pascal x Reader ❤️

(fem reader)

Joel Miller (The Last of Us):

The Snacks of Us ⛽🦫

No-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Reader ❤️

(fem reader)

Cookies 'n Scream (requested) 🍪🎃

Joel Miller x Plus-Sized!Reader 🔥❤️ (AFAB, fem)

The Jealousy Bug (requested) 🪲🍄

Jealous!Joel Miller x Reader 🔥 (AFAB, Jackson-era, fem)

Pins and Needles (requested) 🪡🧟‍♂️ - Series (6/6)

Post-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Reader ❤️❤️‍🩹🔥

(fem reader)

Dieter Bravo(The Bubble):

Kings & Queens 🛏️🛍️

Post-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Reader❤️

Jingle My Bells 🎄🎁

Dieter Bravo x Reader 🔥

(AFAB, fem)

Javier Peña (Narcos):

Javing Feelings 👖👀

Javi Peña x Inexperienced!Reader 🔥 (AFAB, fem)

~~~~~~~~~~

Emoji Key:

❤️ = Fluff

🔥 = Smut

❤️‍🩹 = Angst

[wannab-urs]

The Spreadsheet Digest | Vol 30

Howdy folks :)

Welcome to the THIRTIETH Spreadsheet Digest!!

I started reading a few series this week, and I'm not putting them on the spreadsheet til I've finished them; so, if I told you I'm reading your fic but it's not here, that's why. Eleven fics this week (Dieter, Joel, Din, Ezra, Javi P, and a Marcus P/Din/Reader)!

Fic Rec Masterlist | My Masterlist | My Kofi

Recs Below The Pedge

In Fiction - Dieter one shot by @sin-djarin

Summary: Dieter comes to bed. Tags: Established relationship, mentions of self doubt, no physical description of reader, no dialogue, no use of y/n. Thoughts: This was so sweet. I just want to hold him and pet his hair, fr.

In Reality - Dieter one shot by @sin-djarin

Summary: Dieter comes home for Christmas. Tags: Established relationship, masturbation (M), Dieter's self deprecation, no physical description of reader, no use of y/n. Thoughts: I'm just extremely obsessed with the nailing of Dieter's characterization here. He's a little gross and sad, but it's endearing. Poor baby can't keep his phone charged to save his life. And I love how reader just like... knows he's a mess and is okay with it. It's a little bittersweet? In a way that I adore.

O, Christmas Tree - Dieter one shot by @covetyou

Summary: As PA to Dieter Bravo, you were used to the strange, unusual and downright weird. What you weren't used to was taking in a shipment of - what? And how many? Tags: sex toys (so many butt plugs), Dieter being a menace to his PA, no smut, pure silliness. Thoughts: This is so delightfully silly. And they do kind of look like christmas trees.

The hat stays on - Joel one shot by @theywhowriteandknowthings

Summary: Hooking up with a cowboy in a bar bathroom... kind of. Tags: sub/dom dynamics, Sub!Joel, Switch!Joel, Public sex, Bathroom Sex, Squirting, orgasm denial(mention). Purely Porn with no Plot. Thoughts: I love these lil plot twist fics, I love cowboy hat joel, I love sub/switch!Joel, I love this.

To Know the Light - Din one shot by @burntheedges

Summary: to go in the dark with a light is to know the light. Tags: fluff, a teensy bit of angst, introspection, winter, food mention, reader has no description, gn!reader Thoughts: Din's internal struggle with removing the helmet is such a fascinating aspect of his character, and I think you did a beautiful job of capturing it here. I thought the imagery, the characterization, and the story telling in general here was just gorgeous.

Killshot - Ezra series by @magpiepills

Summary: A lonesome prospector comes face to face with a dangerous stranger. What happens when you can’t resist his charm? Tags: SMUT, PIV, fingering, oral (m&f receiving) pet names, spanking, dub con, angst, anal play, deep throating, cum eating, thigh riding, dirty talk, double penetration, toys, teasing, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader. Thoughts: This shit had me YELLING!!! Dirty Dog Ezra in full force here. I am still shook and I read this like 4 days ago.

Dare to Surrender - Javi P series by @auteurdelabre

Summary: “First to come loses.” You can’t stand Javier Pena but when Steve Murphy makes an off-hand remark that gets both you and Javier’s competitive sides going, there’s no telling how far you’ll go. Tags: Office Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Blow Jobs, Office Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, Dare, Co-workers, soft!javi p, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Pet Names, Jealous!Javier Peña, Phone Sex, Jealousy, Steve Murphy cockblock, Desk Sex, No Pregnancy, Banter, Bonding, Bets & Wagers, Vaginal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Finger Sucking, hey we said no kissing, he falls first, no protection, From Sex to Love, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Semi-Public Sex, P in V sex, Sweet!Javi, Nicknames Thoughts: I loved this storyyyyy. Javi was so pathetically in love with her and so bad at saying it. Brad sucks, btw, but I love how jealous he made Javi. P.S if you like the whole bet concept + Javi P check out Go Ahead I Dare Ya. It's a slightly different premise, but so very good.

Handsome, Dirty, Rich - Joel one shot by @pedgito

Summary: the rich father of your best friend, sarah — joel miller, was a mystery to you until one day he isn't and you quickly find that your interest in him isn't one-sided. Tags: no use of y/n, au/no outbreak, bfd!joel, ceo!joel, mentions of reader growing up poor/absent parents (joel is ridiculously loaded, it's fic y'all let me live lol), sneaking around, age gap (not explicitly specified, but reader is in final year of college and joel is probs late 40s/50s), vacations, gift-giving, unprotected piv, come swallowing, daddy issues if you squint, one (1) pussy slap, oral (f receiving), semi-public fucking Thoughts: The buildup was immaculate AGH. And I am obsessed with the kind of not quite happy ending? Part 2 maybe?

Comfort, Despite the Storm - Joel one shot by @marisferasiop

Summary: Joel's neighbor (you) is the town archivist and brings him a present on his birthday (with a side of teasing). Later, after waking from his own nightmares, he finds you sleepless on your porch during a storm and you take comfort in one another. Tags: fluff, smut, nightmares, alcohol, p in v sex, oral m receiving Thoughts: Love a lil continuous hookup situation. I adore how they get together in this and how reader takes the lead in the situation. And like the fic overall is sweet and flirty, but that smut is hot.

Misfire - Dieter one shot by @qveerthe0ry

Summary: Dieter gets waxed for a role and gets a little too excited. Tags: dubious consent, body hair waxing, pain kink, humiliation kink (kinda), subby!Dieter, ruined orgasm, coming untouched, hands-free orgasm, reader does not engage in sex acts, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drug use, accidental exhibitionism, accidental voyeurism Thoughts: Pathetic, whiny, whimpering, humiliation kink Dieter? Yeah. Yes. Thank you. Perfection. And if you want a version where reader plays along instead of ignoring him read that here.

Closure - Marcus P/Din one shot by @javier-pena

Summary: Marcus, Din and you used to be best friends. Now you're on opposite sides of the law with a decade worth of grudges between you. But hate can quickly become something else ... Tags: angst | canon-typical violence | mentions of food and alcohol and smoking | they’re all mean to each other and they have a difficult relationship | (a lot of) dirty talk (by my standards) | slight power imbalance | reader has hair that can be grabbed | threesome m/f/(m) (kinda) | ecouteurism | voyeurism | exhibitionism | a bit of edging | fingering | competitiveness | (unprotected) piv sex | creampie | a tiny, tiny bit of degradation Thoughts: Marcus and Din is a pairing I truly never thought I would see, but I am obsessed with this pairing. The way their personalities mesh is just stunning. I love the characterization of all three of them. I'm not usually one to read Din AUs where he's not some sort of Mandalorian, but I truly could not resist reading this. Everything about this fic was amazing. Reader's story, Marcus and Din's relationship, the setting, everything was just so good AHGHGGH.

--------------

This week I posted:

Scotty Doesn't Know - a Dieter one shot

Summary: Scotty doesn't know you're hooking up with Dieter Tags: songfic, smut, infidelity, dieter is a loser, scotty doesn't really deserve this he's just annoying, crack taken seriously, porn with the barest of plots, barely edited. WC: 2.8k

---------------

Happy Reading!

[emlee81]

Dieter Bravo X Female Reader-Cocky

***You're a 'friend' and co star of Dieter's and he's constantly hitting on you and asking if you want to have sex with him.

But even though you're somewhat attracted to him, his attitude really gets on your nerves and you end up telling Dieter off. His reaction surprises you.

......

Oh. My. God.

You're standing there, completely dumbfounded by Dieter Bravo's question.

"Do you want to have sex with me?"

As if! Although you semi consider yourself his 'friend' you're not that damn close to him.

As if Dieter would actually allow somebody to get all that close to him in the first place.

When you first met the guy, you were surprised that he even took the time to speak with you.

Dieter is quite the arrogant bastard. He's a successful actor and he knows he is, too.

He enjoys flaunting his talent and wealth and celebrity status.

It's disgusting, really.

"Dieter, seriously?" You glare at him, his crazy, and curly brown hair, disheveled and sticking up on head, as Dieter's velvet brown eyes gaze into yours.

You're not even sure if Dieter is even really seeing you. He's a total drug addiction, constantly snorting coke, at all hours of the day.

You sometimes wonder how the hell Dieter even has a damn job.

"So...?" Dieter says. "I'm guessing that's a no?"

"Dieter, I'm not having sex with you, okay? I don't even really like you all that much."

Immediately, Dieter's shoulders slump in defeat, as he turns away, his head bent down slightly.

You frown, watching as Dieter shuffles off, towards his dressing room, never once, does he lift his head up.

Great. Perfect. Fantastic.

Now you feel like an asshole. And you're not even sure why you give a crap.

.....

You can hear Dieter's voice all the way down the hall, as he's still trying to find somebody to screw.

You feel yourself tense up and wonder if maybe you should have taken Dieter up on his, ahem, offer.

You hear some high pitched giggling and instantly, you find yourself running down the hallway, trying to rescue Dieter from himself.

You reach Dieter, who's making weird eyes at this skinny, red haired bitch, who looks young enough to be Dieter's daughter.

You march over to them, snagging Dieter's arm and practically dragging the asshole away.

"Call me, Dieter!" The young woman shouts after you both.

Dieter struggles against your iron grip, trying to wiggle his arm out your hand.

"What the hell is your problem, Y/N?" Dieter snaps, sliding those damn, ugly sunglasses down on his nose aways and giving you a Look.

"You're a sick man, you know that?" You snap. "That girl was far too young for you!"

"Hey, she said she was twenty one!"

"And you're actually going to believe her?" You're so pissed off at Dieter that all you want to do is punch him right in the face.

"Well, you made it clear you weren't interested! Why should you care anyways?"

"I seriously cannot even right now!" You wrap your arms around yourself, your mind going a hundred miles an hour.

"Y/N, please. I'm so horny right now!" Dieter comes to you, reaching out to take your arms.

You immediately jerk at his touch. Gross! You're so not interested in screwing Dieter Bravo!

"You know what, Dieter?" You say, backing away. "You just go ahead and screw that girl. I'm so done with you!"

You turn to go, but when Dieter opens his mouth, you stop cold.

"I only said that to that girl because I wanted to make you....jealous."

What. In. The. Actual. Hell??

You slowly turn, facing Dieter, who's looking pretty damn vulnerable right now.

However, you know better than to fall for this crap.

He's an actor.

He can make himself appear however he chooses.

"Did you now?" Dieter nods, the vulnerable look staying firmly in place as he slowly approaches you.

"I..I care about you. I..thought maybe you cared about me, too."

"How much coke have you snorted today, Dieter?"

Instantly, the vulnerability falls away as Dieter scowls at you, backing away.

"Bitch!" He hisses through his teeth. "You think I'm such an asshole, yet you're far worse than me!"

"Why?" You demand. "All because I won't agree to screw you?"

But Dieter is already walking away, shaking his head and muttering to himself under his breath.

You watch him for a few minutes before turning away, wondering why you even care.

....

At the end of the day, you're exhausted and ready to head back to the hotel and crash for the night.

Just as you turn the corner, you crash into a body.

Dieter. Naturally.

He gives you a sad smile, but doesn't say anything, just keeps on going, heading for the exit.

You know you'll probably end up regretting it later, but you hurry after Dieter, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He stiffens but doesn't turn around.

"I was wondering if maybe you'd like some company?" Dieter quickly looks at you, staring.

Or staring as well as he can, with those stupid sunglasses covering his eyes.

"Only if you really want to." You give him a smile.

"Yeah, Dieter. I do."

......

You're both just hanging out in Dieter's hotel room, enjoying some Italian food and wine and relaxing.

Dieter is acting like his usual, arrogant self, but you try not to let it ruin everything.

"I really am such a damn good actor," Dieter says, smiling, his dimples digging into his cheeks.

You shake your head, pouring yourself another glass of wine.

"You're also incredibly arrogant," you say, sipping your wine.

"You're only saying that because you're jealous of me!"

You take one look at the indignant look on Dieter's face and burst out laughing.

Dieter instantly takes offense, looking more pissed off.

"Get out!" He roars. "If all you're going to do is berate me!"

"Oh, grow up, Bravo! You're so damn immature."

"I am not!" Dieter declares hotly, looking even hotter. (Or maybe it's the damn wine thinking that.)

Dieter looks pouty and you start giggling again.

You set your glass down, sliding closer to Dieter and expecting him to push you away.

He doesn't. Instead, he reaches out for you, as you reach your hand up, combing your fingers through his crazy hair.

Dieter's expression instantly softens and against your better just, you lean in, gently pressing your lips to his.

Dieter's hands clutch your waist and he holds you tenderly as you continue to kiss.

You finally break off the kiss, gazing into Dieter's beautiful eyes. He's smirking and you feel an urge to slap him.

"I knew you liked me, Y/N," Dieter says, looking quite confident of himself.

You roll your eyes and scoot back some.

"Wow, Dieter, so humble."

"How can I be humble when I know how fabulous I am?"

You just shake your head again.

"You're an asshole, Bravo. And you always will be."

"And you're a bitch." You reach over, lightly slapping Dieter's leg and he glares at you.

"That's right, Dieter."

Dieter suddenly grins.

"So, do you want to have sex with me?" You laugh.

"Dream on, Bravo. Dream on."