Rating: M There’s mention of what happened to Dieter, but not in detail. Language. Alcohol. Talk of sex.
Summary:Dieter has a gift for you less than two days before he’s set to leave England … what is it? And what does it mean? And after you find out - how will the two of you begin your last weekend together for months?
Author’s note:
This one has been a while coming - and I hope that all of you are just as excited to figure out what Dieter’s gift is *now* as you were before. Thank you for being patient with me - and thank you so much for the support on this story.
He led you out onto the balcony after you’d put a pair of shoes and your own robe on. Even though it was chilly, it made sense for the two of you to go outside and continue the conversation. This is where we first really talked. The two of you remained behind the short wall, blocking some of the breeze, but Dieter pulled the chairs back from the railing, arranging them to face each other. He’s nervous. You could see the look on his face - the man’s expression determined, and while you had a ton of questions for him, you decided not to ask, instead waiting for him to speak again and steer the conversation.
Whatever he had to give to you was obviously important, and after everything you’d learned about the man, you wanted it to be on his terms and not your own that things progressed. “Did you get good footage at the interview today? It seemed like you did.” He was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “We all behaved.”
“You did.” Grinning, you nodded in agreement. “And yeah, I did. It think it’ll be a good way to bookend the BTS stuff, you know? All of you were really different in the beginning. It’s only been a couple months, but … a lot’s changed.” You meant it in general terms, but also specifically referring to Dieter. You’d never imagined from the first encounter in the lobby that the two of you would have reached the point that you were at, but you certainly weren’t about to complain. “Noticed the biggest change in you, though.” He tilted his head to the side, brows furrowed. “I’m serious. You really opened up, Dieter. And I think it did you good.”
“Maybe.” He straightened up, eyes darting away from you for long moments before they returned to your face. “Guess we’ll have to see what happens when we get outta here, hmm?”
“That’s going to happen sooner for you than for anyone else.” You tried to make it into a joke, but your voice wavered at the end of the sentence, Dieter immediately reaching out to take your hand in one of his. “I’m fine. I’m just … sad.” You figured it was better to get it all out early instead of waiting until the morning that he left, but Dieter’s expression was serious as he watched you, his gaze focused. “I’m going to miss you, Dieter. I know we’re still going to talk, but -”
“We’ve pretty much lived together since October.” He cleared his throat. “And for whatever reason, you haven’t gotten sick of me.” I haven’t. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d told me to fuck off after my overdose. I know you wouldn’t have, but a lot of people would. You didn’t owe me anything then, and you still don’t. But instead of pushing me away or giving me an ultimatum, you just … you were there for me.”
“Because I wanted to be.” Squeezing his hand, you closed your eyes. “I still want to be, Dieter. Even if it’s over the phone for a while, you have to know that I mean it.” He assured you that he did, the man’s tone serious. “And even if it doesn’t end up the way -”
“Just stop.” He interrupted you, holding up his free hand. “Stop right there.” What?“Before you say anything else, just …” Dieter shifted on the chair, scooting closer to the edge - and in turn, to you - reaching into the pocket of his robe. “I know it might seem like I don’t take a lot of shit seriously, but that’s not what I’m doing here.” What does he mean? “I know you’re set on us using the next few months apart as a way to figure out … if this can work in the real world.” His hand was still in his pocket, Dieter pausing and wetting his lips. “But I meant what I said, too. And so I wanted to give you something to… back it all up.”
“Dieter, you don’t have to prove yourself to…” Trailing off as he pulled his hand free, you felt your breath catch as you saw what he held. That’s a fucking ring box. “What is…”
“It’s not what you think it is. I promise.” He laughed, but it was a nervous sound, the man holding his hand out toward you. “Open it, and then I’ll explain.” He released your hand and you reached out, blinking furiously. Dieter was holding a small green box in the palm of his hand, and you took it from him, trying to keep from shaking as you did so. He said it’s not what it looks like, but …
Slowly, you opened the box, holding your breath the whole time. Oh, shit. You gasped at the contents, eyes immediately moving up to Dieter’s face and finding that he looked downright terrified. “Dieter?” Transferring the box to one hand, you used the other to prod at what was inside, confused. “What…”
“I wanted to give you something that meant something to me.” Dieter said your name and you glanced up, meeting his gaze again. “Something that you wouldn’t need to hide if you didn’t want to.” Ok, but… He held his hand out, pointing at the ring he wore on his pinky. “I bought this after I won my Oscar. Figured since I don’t really spend a lot of money on myself otherwise, I’d get something to commemorate the win.” You’d wondered about the ring before, the shape of the metal unique but not easily discernible, even up close. “So I picked a designer and had ‘em make me a ring out of the knife I used in the movie.” Oh, shit, that makes sense. “Melted it down and now I wear it.” But that’s not this one.
“I like that.” You gave him a smile. “You’ve never admitted to that in any interviews before.”
“I haven’t.” He cleared his throat, pointing at the box in your hand. “But that one’s… that one’s even more special.” Within the box - and threaded onto a silver chain was the ring that Dieter usually wore on his first finger; an oval-shaped, deep onyx stone set into a silver band. “That one… was the first thing I bought after I got paid for my first movie. I’ve had it since I was 21.”
“What?”Why would he give this to me? “Dieter, what…”
“Only time I take it off is when I’m filming.” Dieter took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before releasing it. ”And I took it off now because I’m giving it to you.”
“Dieter, I can’t take this. It’s your -”
“It’s not for you to keep.” He cleared his throat. “Just to … borrow. You can wear it and then give it back when we see each other next.” You understood the meaning of his words, the thing that he wasn’t saying. I’d give it back when we make a decision. “And um… there’s something else in there, too. So that if the ring’s not…”
You hadn’t noticed earlier, but when he mentioned it, you saw the small piece of metal behind the ring, a tiny flat pendant with a flower etched into it. What?“Dieter, it’s…” You pulled the chain from the box, flipping it shut and setting it on your lap so that you could inspect the jewelry closely. “It’s gorgeous.”
“That’s what took it so long to get here. Had to special order the pendant, and it took a little longer than I thought it would.” He reached out, using one finger to tilt your chin up and bring your face back up to eye level. “It’s … a Christmas cactus flower. I just thought that…”
“Cactus flower. That’s what you called me while we were running lines.” He nodded, the look in his eyes growing more hopeful by the second. “And Christmas because you got me flowers as a …” Ah shit. You felt tears welling up in your eyes, determined not to let them fall. “As a gift, Dieter.”
“Yeah.” He smiled at you, the man’s lip trembling slightly. “Yeah that’s… you get it.” I do. I do get it. You didn’t know what to say, letting the pendant and the ring roll over the center of your palm as you stared down at them. It was a gesture that you hadn’t expected - the man surprising you with an actual gift before he left. That’s the second time he’s done that, and all I have for him is … nothing.
“Will… you put it on for me?” Holding the chain out to him until he took it, you pulled the shoulders of your robe down, turning in your chair so that your back was partially to him. “See how it looks?” Only a few seconds later, you felt the weight of the chain and the two additions resting against your chest, followed by Dieter’s hands on your shoulders - and then his lips on the nape of your neck. You tilted your head down and then reached for the necklace, trailing your fingers over it. This is really happening. “Well?”
Turning back to face him, you bit your lip. He stared at you wordlessly for long seconds, the man’s eyes focused on where the pendant and ring landed against your chest. “I … really like seeing that on you.” He reached out then, his hand covering yours as both of you closed your fingers around the jewelry. But… if I have it and he doesn’t, people will notice.
“Dieter, you’ve had this thing for 20 years. It’s in almost every picture of you, what happens when -” He laughed quietly.
“Yeah, I thought of that, too.” The man cleared his throat. “I’m sure people will wonder. But I’m not gonna replace it. And if anyone asks, I’m just not gonna answer… yet.” Yet?You figured that he’d be good at deflecting, sidestepping a question with such a personal answer. But that still doesn’t tell me what I should do.
“Am… I allowed to wear it in public, Dieter? When I film my show, or if I’m out with friends?” You had a feeling that he’d say yes, but the words that came out of his mouth next still surprised you.
“I want you to. That’s the point. Want you to have a reminder of all this… of me wherever you go.” He removed his hand from yours, sitting back and resting both hands on his thighs. “But if you don’t want to, I’ll take the ring back, and you can just keep the -”
“Absolutely not.” Standing, you held your hand out and waited until he took it. “This is the most meaningful thing anyone’s ever done for me. I’m… speechless, to be honest.” Pointing at the balcony door, you tugged on his hand. “But I’m also cold, though, so we should …”
He stood immediately, and when the two of you were back in your room with the door closed, you wound both arms around his neck and rested your forehead against his, the man ducking down slightly to make it possible. “Anika helped me out with this, by the way.” What?Confused, you backed off slightly, waiting for him to explain. “I knew I didn’t really have time to order something, so I asked her if there was a jeweler around that she trusted that could do a custom piece.” He bit his lip and then released it, fighting back a smile. “She got me in touch with ‘em. And it uh, came back just in time.”
“I’ll have to thank her.” You used one hand to stroke over the back of his neck, fingertips gliding through his curls. “But Dieter… I don’t… I honestly don’t know what to say to you right now. This is …” It’s too much. “This is a big deal. This is like … if it were the 50’s and you asked me to go steady and wear your class ring.”
“Yep.” He was grinning again, the look of apprehension gone from his eyes. “And I know we’re not calling this anything while we’re apart, I get it. But I still… I wanted you to know that I feel -”
“I’m happy to wear it, Dieter. I’m…. thank you. Thank you for trusting me w-” He stopped your words by kissing you, the man’s right hand on your lower back, the left one raised to cradle the back of your head. There was more you wanted to say to him, more that you wanted to tell him, but you knew that the words wouldn’t come out properly - that if you tried to speak, you’d stumble over everything. So don’t talk. Don’t… even try.
When you broke apart, Dieter stared at you again, the look in his eyes warm. “What do you want to do tonight? You’re off tomorrow, and I don’t have to be on set until noon, so -” Pulling out of his arms, you shrugged the bathrobe down, letting it fall to the floor. The warmth changed to heat, the set of Dieter’s mouth shifting into a smirk, which only grew as you pulled your shirt over your head, leaving yourself in only a pair of leggings, a bra and the necklace.
“First, we’re going to get into that bed, and I’m going to thank you properly for such a thoughtful gift, Dieter.” Reaching around to unhook your bra, you dropped it onto the floor, too. “And then we’re going to order dinner.” He removed his bathrobe as you spoke, the man moving quickly to rid himself of his shirt immediately after. “But after that?” Hooking your thumbs into the elastic of your waistband, you shrugged. “It’s up to you.”
As soon as you’d removed your pants, leaving you completely bare in front of Dieter, he reached out for you, pulling you up against his body and then spinning both of you, urging you backwards and toward the bed. “I think I can figure something out.”
—-
It turned out that you didn’t order food until hours later, after you and Dieter had woken up from a short nap. Following the delivery of that, you ate in bed, going back to your original activity of choice for the two of you: Netflix.
The two of you stayed awake well into the night, laughing over the movies and shows that you chose, and when you fell asleep again, it was with your cheek against his chest, Dieter’s arms wrapped around you.
He left the following morning to go down for hair and makeup a little before he was supposed to, and as soon as the room was empty, you sat straight up in the bed, removing the necklace you wore. It wasn’t the pendant you looked at first, even though the floral etching was delicate and lifelike, the flower easily discernible. You instead held the ring up, eyeing the stone and the band before running your finger along the inside of it.
It wasn’t perfectly round, and you figured that that was due to Dieter’s nervous habit of tapping his hands against surfaces. But that meant that it was perfectly shaped to fit onto his finger, and before you could stop yourself, you slid yours into it, too, just to see the difference in size. It was much too large, even on your thumb, but just seeing the jewelry on your hand in the same way you’d seen it on his for months made your chest tighten, your other hand coming up to cover your mouth.
When you removed it, you caught an engraving on the inside of the band, just two letters and a date - 7/16/2002. It took a second, but you realized that the letters stood for the title of the movie, and the date must have been when he was hired, which arguably was a more important date than when the movie had premiered. It was the real deal - not that you’d assumed otherwise - but knowing that you held a piece of Dieter’s history in your hands, and were being entrusted to keep it safe for months was as good as any verbal declaration of affection, or any public admission that he wanted to be with you. And I’ve gotten both of those, too.
Yet again, you second guessed the decision to use the following months as a thinking period, but after a few seconds of reflection, you settled the necklace back into place around your neck and climbed out of bed, deciding to take a shower before leaving the room. You had to be apart anyway; there was no point in pretending otherwise, and even though you were questioning the likelihood of something working out long term with Dieter less and less by the second, it would still be a good time for you to think. He’d given you the ring, yes, but that didn’t mean that things wouldn’t change, especially when he was on a much more structured and professional set with very different restrictions.
Your body ached in a pleasant way, and so you let the hot water soothe it for longer than usual, soaking beneath the stream until your fingers were pruney. You didn’t know how long Dieter would be on set for that day, but you didn’t want to seem like you were hovering, so when you finally left the room, you grabbed a jacket, figuring that you’d go for a short walk outside to pass some time. Surprisingly, the front desk was empty when you walked past, and so you made it to the main doors quickly, stepping through them and into the early spring sunshine.
You walked down the main path and then to the right, wandering past the still closed café and toward the main road. Wonder what this place is like when it’s really busy. You had no desire to go back to the hotel after filming was done, but you were still curious - the property itself was gorgeous, the grounds meticulously maintained, and when it was bustling with guests, you figured that things would feel much more comfortable than they had under the restrictions.
Instead of walking all the way down to the fountain, you cut across the main driveway and made a loop, enjoying the way that the sun and slightly chilly air felt on your skin. You realized that in only a few weeks, you’d be back home - surrounded by familiar things and places, and that you’d have to trade the open spaces of Clifton for narrow sidewalks and steadily rising humidity whenever you wanted to take walks. As excited as you were to finally be done with Cliff Beasts, and as much as you were looking forward to sleeping in yourbed after nearly seven months, there were things about England that you’d miss. And not all of them have to do with Dieter, either. That was a revelation, and as you strolled past the outdoor pool and spa, you paused to consider it.
But your reflection period was short-lived, the sound of someone saying your name startling you out of your thoughts. It was Carol, to your surprise, and she was bundled up, though you could tell that she was wearing stage makeup and had on clothes for interviews beneath her jacket. “Surprised to see you alone, it seems like every time you’re out of your room and not at work, you’re with Dieter.” Is that meant to be offensive? You stared at the redhead for a few seconds, confused.
“He’s filming today. Same thing you are, the final interviews?” Turning to face her, you fought the urge to cross your arms defensively over your chest. “I’m off, because they’re all for private companies or sites, so -”
“I’m just saying. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten the chance to talk to you alone off-set.” Carol stepped closer to you, giving you a small smile. “I’m happy for him. Happy for you. I’m not sure if he told you, but he and I were supposed to … well, we were going to act like there was something going on while filming, just to drum up some interest in this stupid fucking movie.”
“He did.” The longer she spoke, the less malicious she sounded, and you relaxed, taking a long breath. “But he said that he didn’t really want to do it because of one of your exes?” Carol laughed, tossing her hair.
“Yeah, it turns out that neither of us wanted to do it, but I think it worked out for the best, right?” She cocked her head to the side, wrinkling her nose. “Are the two of you together? Or are you just making the most of being stuck here?” Here’s the first opportunity to say something to someone, and …
“We’re not together. Not officially. He’s got another movie lined up right after he leaves here, and I’m going back to my job in Atlanta. We’re just going to … see what happens.” She nodded, giving you another once-over. “I’m not stupid, Carol. I know that there’s a chance it’s not going to -”
“No, you’re not stupid.” She sighed, reaching up to scratch the side of her head. “But I want to tell you a little secret about Hollywood.” She moved closer, dropping her voice. “Most of us, you can’t trust. Actors, I mean. It’s all about making ourselves look and feel better, and if we don’t know you, you’re not gonna get the real thing until we do.” She met your eyes, sincerity in hers. “But Dieter? He comes off like an asshole a lot, but he’s actually one of the good ones. He wouldn’t lead you on, especially after spending so much time here with you.” Carol wet her lips. “He had other options here. Plentyof them, and he didn’t take any of them up on it.” Are you included in that list?
You didn’t think so - she’d seemed pretty set on getting Dustin’s attention whenever she could, and you hadn’t ever seen her even flirt with anyone else off-camera. “Carol, I -”
“The night he… that Anika saved him? That would have been a perfect excuse for him to get with her as a thank you, and then frame it as ‘oh, you can’t blame me, she saved my life.’ He didn’t. And it seems like after that night, the two of you… well, you’ve been pretty damn inseparable, haven’t you.” You were surprised that she’d noticed, but since she was right, you didn’t see a reason to lie, agreeing quickly. “You’ll see him again soon. They’re going to edit the shit out of this movie and add a million low quality special effects, but it won’t take them long at all.”
You couldn’t hold back a laugh at that, rolling your eyes and glancing up at the sky. “No, I’m sure it won’t.” The two of you started walking again, back in the direction of the hotel. “What were you doing out here? Just taking a break?” She nodded in agreement, both hands in her pockets. “How many interviews do you have to do today?”
“Three more by myself and then one with Krystal.” She paused. “And then one with Sean and Dustin.” You didn’t envy the cast at all; even the easy days were filled with work to do, and you winced at the admission. “Yeah, but after today it’s back to our regularly scheduled 13 hours of bullshit with Darren.”
“At least we’re almost done.” You were back at the front doors of the hotel, the two of you pausing before entering. “Maybe things won’t be as hectic for the last weeks of the shoot.” Carol actually laughed as she reached for the door handle, the sound echoing off the high ceilings of the lobby.
“I wish that was true. But it’s only going to get worse.” Great.Her phone rang then, Carol reaching into her pocket to pull it out. “I have to go. I’m due on camera in ten. But don’t forget what I said, alright?” You had no idea why she’d gone out of her way to give you a Dieter pep talk, but you weren’t going to question it. Not so close to the end.
Carol made her way off in the direction of the hallway you’d used the day before and you decided to go to catering and grab something to eat. Surprisingly, there were only a few people in the room, and none of them were cast - but one of them was Darren, the man sitting across the table from Gavin, the two men engrossed in conversation. That looks interesting.
Under the pretense of getting food, you made your way over in their direction, listening closely to see if you could overhear what they were talking about. As you grabbed your meal, you overheard words like “rewrite” and “reshoot” and “night shoot”, barely containing your groan of annoyance. That wasn’t going to go over well with anyone - including you. But at least if we’re doing night shoots again, it’ll be easier to sleep without … The fact that your first thoughts were of missing Dieter told you just how fucked you were when it came to him, and what the time you’d spent together had done to your way of thinking about yourself and your relationships. But it was worth it. It’ll all be worth it. Doubling back to get another side of fruit, you listened again - to Gavin speaking, his hands gesturing wildly.
At his words, you froze in place, unable to keep from reacting. Shooting the seventh movie right after this one? What the… absolutely not. They can’t… You heard someone clearing their throat and turned your head toward the sound, finding both Gavin and Darren staring at you. Shit.“Are you eavesdropping?”
“No, I’m getting lunch.” You held up the food in your hands. “Decided I wanted more fruit, so I came to grab another container.” Good. I don’t sound guilty. “Why, are you talking about something that I shouldn’t hear in the middle of the public dining room?”
“No.” Darren spoke first, the man sighing loudly. “We’re just talking about the end of the shoot, and what the studio wants.” Right. They apparently want to keep everyone here longer. He laughed, the sound thin. “That fruit does look good.”
“Yeah.” You held the container out to him, the man reaching for it without hesitation. “Take this one, I’ll grab another.” You smiled at both men, lifting and dropping your shoulders in a shrug. “I’m going to go eat now, if that’s alright.” Neither of them said anything and so you turned back to the fruit, picking up a third container and then making your way to the lobby - and the elevators. I was planning on eating in there, but I guess not now.
You didn’t know what to make of the conversation you’d overheard, but figured that Dieter might be able to explain his take on it next time you saw him - whenever it was that he got done filming. That gave you time, and so you sunk down onto your freshly made bed, crossed your legs and spread your lunch out in front of you, the TV playing in the background while you ate.
A knock on your door interrupted some British sitcom while later, and you answered it to find Jenna standing in the hallway, looking more uncertain than she had in all the months you’d known her. “Can I come in?” Stepping aside, you let the woman into your room, motioning for her to take a seat at the table if she wanted to. She did, though she didn’t say anything for long minutes, instead staring at her hands, which were clasped together on the table in front of her. “I’m sorry I ruined your dinner the other night. I really thought that Dieter would have told you that we were leaving. I didn’t mean to … surprise you like that.”
“You don’t need to apologize, Jenna. You didn’t know. I overreacted. I knew you were going to be leaving before me, so I don’t … I don’t know why it surprised me so much.” She thinks I’m upset with her? “And hey, at least you delivered the shitty news, and he didn’t need to do it.”
“Yeah. Great.” She rolled her eyes. “I really am sorry, though. I know how close you’ve gotten, and it can’t be easy to know that you’ve only got a couple days left.” You’re not wrong. Her eyes moved from your face down and then back up, confusion switching to surprise. “Is that his…” Shit.
“Yeah.” Reaching up to take the ring between your fingers, you rubbed your thumb over the stone. “Yeah, he… fuck, Jenna, he gave it to me to keep while he’s filming Valley of Shadow, because he said he wanted me to have something meaningful of his, and …” You pushed it to the side, showing her the pendant. “And he got me this to keep once I don’t have the ring anymore, so -”
“Dieter did that?” She leaned over the table, reaching out and putting her hand behind the pendant so she could see it better. “A flower? Wh-”
“We were reading over his lines for his self tapes, and he ad-libbed a nickname for the girl in the scene, and called her Cactus Flower, which fit because of the setting, but…” She let go of the pendant, letting it - and the ring - fall back against your chest, but didn’t look back up. “Then he gave me this, and I just … I’m confused Jenna. Because I know we need to figure out what happens when we’re apart and can’t be around each other all the time, but I… this is a grand gesture. This is huge,and -”
“In all the time I’ve known Dieter, he’s never done anything like this for anyone. His gifts to people? He sends them bottles of wine and standard gift baskets. He sends them off to a spa or a massage or sends them weed.” You snorted at that, but she kept going. “He doesn’t do sentimental, ever, except with his family. This is … I don’t even know what to say to this.” She was beaming, the woman happier than you’d seen her since she found out she was going home for weeks at Christmas. “Shit.” Jenna rubbed her forehead, scoffing out another quiet laugh. “Wow. Ok, well, this changes a lot of things.” It does? “I just came to apologize and to say goodbye. I figured that you and Dieter will be … well, that we won’t really see much of you tonight or tomorrow, so …”
“It’s up to him.” You shrugged. “I think he said something about the cast wanting to say goodbye tonight, but …”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be at that.” She stood from the table, looking down at where you still sat. “I’m not cast.” Neither am I. “But I’m sure I’ll see you on Monday morning, before we leave for the airport. “ She tapped on the table with one finger, raising a brow. “Take care of that ring. If you don’t, I’ll never hear the end of it.” You began to laugh as she headed for the door, but before she could pull it open, someone beat her to it, Dieter stepping into the room, with his hair still styled from set. Oh. Hi. “Dieter!”
“What are you doing in here, Jenna?” He looked past her and at you before returning his attention to the other woman. “Something wrong?”
“Nope. I was just coming in to apologize and say goodbye. Didn’t want to interrupt the two of you before Monday morning.” Dieter’s lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile, but Jenna didn’t even pause as she stepped past him and into the hallway. “Make sure your shit’s packed, Dieter. I don’t want to have to contact the hotel in two weeks when you figure out you left something here.” He grumbled under his breath that he wouldn’t forget anything, and then the woman was gone, the door closing behind her.
“If you do forget anything, I can just send it home to you.” You balanced your chin on your palm, watching as he made his way toward where you sat. “You know, if you trust me with your address.”
“Of course I do. I’ll text it to you.” He leaned down, kissing you on the cheek. “I actually stopped here to see if you wanted to help me pack. I’m supposed to meet some of the cast for drinks tonight, and figured we could get most of it done and then go down for that.” You want me to go with you? “I didn’t bring too much, so it shouldn’t take long, but folding everything’s a bitch.”
“Yeah, I’m not looking forward to that at all.” Leaning back in your chair, you stared up at him. “Yes, I’ll help you pack. And if you want me to go to your party tonight, I’d like that.” You paused. “But only if we eat dinner first.”
“Deal.” Dieter’s smile grew, the man stepping back from the table and toward the door. “It’s a date.”
—
You didn’t get back to Dieter’s room until late that night, both of you stumbling through the hall and stopping in front of his door, the man fumbling for the key to let you both in. You weren’t drunk, but you were tipsy - the result of Dustin’s insistence that the two of you not leave early since it was a celebration. Dieter was less intoxicated than you, the man sipping his drinks slowly after leading with a hefty pour of whiskey. You’d expected to feel out of place in the room filled with actors and actresses, but instead, they’d made you feel more welcome than ever before.
You were included in conversations, asked questions and even listened to when you were simply speaking, and to your surprise, before the end of the night, both Carol and Sean had added you on Instagram, something that completely shocked you. It meant more exposure - and more of a link to Dieter, but there was nothing that you could do about it, especiallywhen they kept you in a group shot of them sharing a toast to Dieter, and then Carol posted it immediately after on her page, tagging you.
But the most interesting part of the night was their response to you telling them what you’d overheard Darren and Gavin talking about. They’d believed you immediately, none of them happy about any of those options. You didn’t blame them, and weren’t surprised to see Carol, Sean and Dustin moving off into one corner to talk between themselves as you and Dieter said your goodbyes on the way back to your rooms.
“Are we packing more?” You sunk down onto Dieter’s couch, stretching out on the cushions. “We can finish tonight, Dieter, and then have all day tomorrow to -”
“No.” He was already changed out of the clothes he’d worn to the party, the man dressed in only the green bathrobe and a pair of shorts. “We’re not packing anything else tonight. I’m mostly done anyway.” Cracking one eye open, you turned your head to look at Dieter, eyes raking over him from head to toe. “I can finish Monday morning.”
“I’m gonna miss you.” You spoke without thinking, the sentiment spilling from your lips. “Gonna be lonely here without … “ Sitting up, you sighed. “Without you, Dieter.” You’d promised yourself that you wouldn’t cry, that you’d stay composed because it was stupid to be upset when you knew that the separation was temporary. But I will miss him. A lot. “Especially if they’re planning on keeping us here for longer to shoot 7, and have a ton of reshoots planned.” He joined you on the couch, pulling you onto his lap, and without pause, you ducked your head down, tucking your face into the side of his neck and sliding one hand beneath his robe to press against his skin.
“They can’t keep you here for 7. I don’t know what anyone else’s contracts are like, but they had no reason to write an additional movie into yours. You can’t do anything about reshoots or nights, but the minute 6 wraps? You get to go.”You felt his chest rising and falling against your body as he spoke, Dieter’s voice comforting you. “And believe it or not, I’m going to miss you too.” He tilted your face up with one finger, giving himself a chance to look you directly in the eye. “A fucking lot.”
The admission made your entire body warm, and you couldn’t resist angling your face so that you could kiss Dieter in response, not trusting yourself to speak. He kissed you back, but made no attempt to deepen the kiss, instead moving the finger beneath your chin so that he could rub his thumb over your cheek, swiping it in a slow, steady circle. It’s going to be a long four months. “Dieter?” You took a breath when he pulled back, blinking to get your bearings. “Take me to bed?” He laughed at you, shaking his head no. What?
“We’ll go to bed, but you’ve had too much to drink tonight. I know that you’d probably be alright with whatever happened, but I wouldn’t.” What? I’m not that … “We’ll have all day tomorrow to make up for it, but how about …” He leaned closer, lips against your ear. “I’ll rub your back, put you to sleep.” It sounded like a good idea, and the thought of his massive hands all over your body was more than appealing, so you agreed. “Get ready for bed. I’ll be here.”
You peeled yourself from his lap and then headed for the bathroom, smiling the whole way. While you stood and brushed your teeth, you realized that you were less sober than you’d thought, and by the time you were guzzling down a large glass of water, you were thankful that Dieter had turned you down. I don’t even know that I’d be able to do much anyway. The lights in the room were mostly off when you emerged from the bathroom, and Dieter was waiting, telling you that he needed five minutes and that you should get comfortable. “Am I allowed to take my clothes off, or -”
“You sure are.” He raised an eyebrow, running one hand through his hair. “Bra and underwear on though.” Five months earlier, you wouldn’t have believed those words were going to leave his mouth, but instead of replying, you just nodded, waiting until he was inside of the bathroom to begin taking your clothes off, removing the necklace and setting it carefully on the bedside table. When you were just down to your underwear, you climbed into the bed, staying on top of the blankets but stretching out on your stomach, cheek pressed to the pillows. It was comfortable, and you were tired, but you managed to stay awake until you heard his voice again, the sound strained. “Fuck.” Cracking one eye open, you saw that Dieter was standing at the foot of the bed, his hands curled into loose fists at his sides. “Fuck, you’re…”
“You’re the one that said no to me, Bravo.” He groaned and you laughed at the sound. “And you promised me a massage, so…” The mattress dipped as he climbed into bed, straddling your thighs, and the next thing you knew, he had his hands on your back, palms flat and fingers spread out.
He was strong but not overpowering, and you relaxed beneath his touch, the man working his way up your torso and then back down, focusing on the center of your back with his thumbs. “You’re really tense.” He spoke quietly, digging in. “Carrying that camera around too much.”
“It’s my job.” You sighed, fighting back a quiet moan at the way his hands were working over your skin. “Can’t just stop.” Dieter stayed quiet for a few seconds, and then you felt his breath on your bare skin, only seconds before his lips were too. “Dieter…”
“I’ll behave.” He kissed his way across your shoulders, the movement of his hands on your lower back never faltering. “Can’t help it, though.” Good. I can’t either. You were slightly disappointed when he sat up, but Dieter moved both hands in unison, his fingertips pressing down on either side of your spine, hands spreading out when they reached your neck. “Gonna unhook you, that alright?” Whispering back a ‘yes’, you felt him do it seconds later, and the next time he ran his hands up and down the entire length, there was nothing in his way, the pressure consistent the whole time.
You let him work on you for a few more minutes, feeling that your body was going slack beneath his touch, and then you spoke, shifting on the mattress. “You can stop whenever, Dieter. It feels amazing, but you don’t have to -”
“Wanna touch you while I can.” He laughed, almost like he was embarrassed. “Fuck. I sound like a … Christ, I sound like…” He trailed off, moving backwards to slide further down your legs, hands following. You gasped as he squeezed your ass with both hands, followed by a light smack to one cheek, and then his weight was gone, the man laying down next to you. “Sorry. I said I’d behave, but -”
“Dieter, for you, that was behaving.” He smiled in the darkness, the man’s cheeks going round, and when he reached for you, one arm winding around the upper back that he’d just been massaging, you moved closer to him immediately, not caring that your unhooked bra exposed your chest. He kissed you soundly, and before you knew what was happening, Dieter had both arms around you, crushing you to his chest as his lips moved with yours.
You understood immediately - it was the beginning of him saying goodbye; the man trying to show you different sides of himself that hadn’t been exposed yet. But I like all of him. You realized it as he backed off enough to take a breath, his eyes meeting yours again. I like everything. “We should go to sleep.” He licked his lips. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to keep my promise of behaving.” It was your turn to laugh, but you moved as you did, shrugging out of your bra and dropping it to the floor before sitting up to reach for the blanket.
You faced away from him when you laid back down, letting your back meet his chest. Dieter curled around you from behind so closely that there wasn’t any space between you, but it was comfortable, your body still pliant from the time he’d spent with his hands on you. “If the movie career ever dries up, Dieter, you could always turn to massage. I’m sure there are plenty of people that would killto have you touch them like that, even if they had to pay for it.”
“Does that bother you?” It was as direct as he’d ever been when it came to discussing his popularity and what it might mean if the two of you were together.“That people feel like that about me?”
“No.” There was no hesitation in your reply. “You’re an actor, Dieter. You have been for years. It’s part of the territory.” Should I even say it? Yes. “I’ve watched you kiss other people on camera. I’ve… seen you do sex scenes, and know you’ll be doing another on the next movie. You’re supposed to be appealing to the people that watch your work, that’s part of what comes with it all.” Part of what it would mean to be with you. “I wouldn’t want you to act on any of it if you and I were … together, but I understand that there’s always going to be people trying, or you’ll have to do it for roles, so I’d have to be alright with it..”
“You’d be surprised,” he replied after a few seconds of thought, his breath fanning out over your bare skin. “I think I’ve only filmed one or two scenes that weren’t just … work.” He kissed the back of your shoulder, lips lingering on your skin. “It’s hard to really enjoy any of that shit when there’s 20 people in the room and three different cameras and you’re wearing a cock sock.” You snorted, rolling your shoulders slightly and settling further into the bedding. “I’m being serious. It’s not as sexy as some people make it out to be.”
“Good.” You felt your breaths lengthening. “I’m not an actress so there’s no way I could compare if it was.” Dieter said your name urging you to turn back to face him, and when you did, he kissed you on the mouth - the affection short but firm.
“I kiss actors and actresses all day at work. I don’t want to do the same thing at home.” You could still see his eyes in the dim light, and though you weren’t fully awake, you saw honesty there, the man telling you the absolute truth. “I -” He was cut off by a yawn, Dieter’s eyes squeezing shut. “Shit. Sorry. I was just gonna say that I hope you still feel this way when you haven’t been drinking.”
“I will.” It was your turn to yawn, the end of it cut off in a quiet yip. “It’s fucking late Dieter. We need to go to bed, otherwise we’ll sleep all day.” And I’m not wasting our last one.
He settled down behind you again, and within minutes, both of you were sleeping, his arm still securely around you.
Word Count: 2900 Rating: R to Mature for the whole series, nobody under 18, scram.
Warnings: Language
Summary: You have known “Dieter Bravo” since you were kids and you two used to be thick as thieves before his big breaks when he developed a serious douchebag (and cocaine) problem. The big problem you two have isn’t a lack of compatibility or trust or whatnot, it’s that Dee continues not to acknowledge that you two have a fucking child. That he named Pickle.
^this be the vibes folks, come on in and buckle up.
A/N: As promised the Epilogue. There is plenty of room for requests of these guys :)
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says ‘creator chooses not to use warnings’. This work is rated Mature and you should be over 18 to engage by clicking keep reading you agree you are the proper age for adult content and themes.
AN | Was this inevitable? Probably. Am I sorry? Nope. Enjoy this foray into Dieter-land. More to come? Maybe. Dieter isn’t an actor in this bad boy, only a very eclectic artist!
Summary | In which you’ve been best friends with eccentric artist Dieter Bravo for years and years. In which you’ve been in love with your best friend for years and years. All it took was one little comment for the truth to come out - but it might have ruined everything.
Pairing | Dieter Bravo x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language, Sex [discussed/done although nothing explicit], Bi!Dieter and Bi!Reader, 18+ solamente
You almost choked on the sip of coffee you’d just taken as you read through the comments on some random influencer’s Instagram post. People just continued to be the worst; you knew that comments more often than not were a cesspool, but you still found yourself drawn to them. Tossing your phone back onto the table you were currently occupying in the small café, you caught Dieter’s eye and groaned dramatically.
“Alright, bonita?” he twiddled the stylus between his fingers as he paused from the sketch he was working on, “please don’t choke and die in the middle of a café. Not cute and you need to find a more dramatic way to die, especially so young.”
“You’re the worst,” you couldn’t help but laugh as you turned back to your laptop, going through too many work emails. He blew you a kiss before winking and turning back to his own work. The two of you worked in silence for some time, only the noise from the other patrons reaching your ears.
“You know what the worst thing about being bi is?” you sighed after some time, still annoyed by what you’d read, coffee halfway to your mouth before you shook your head, “well, not about being bi. About people and their perceptions.”
“They think we’re confused?”
“If I dated you, or any man, they’d just say I was straight, same as if you dated a woman,” you huffed, “but if I date a woman, I’m lesbian and just didn’t want to fully come out, if you date a man you’ve been secretly gay this whole time. People are just so…narrow-minded. I’m not confused, you’re not confused, what’s wrong with just liking people?”
“Don’t let the fuckers get to you,” Dieter shrugged nonchalantly, “w-wait - if you dated me? So you’re saying there’s a chance?”
You almost snorted into your coffee before looking across the table at the time. He looked up from his pad, eyebrows raised so high they disappeared into his mop of curls. You’d often wondered how soft they were, how your fingers would feel running through them, how it would - stop. Rolling your eyes, you quickly flipped him off, “not a chance, baby. Not a fuckin’ chance.”
“You’re telling me you haven’t thought about having sex with me even once?”
“I didn’t say that,” you turned your attention back to the work you were doing on your laptop, “don’t put words in my mouth.”
“So you have thought about it?”
“Yes,” you did your best to keep your face as neutral as possible, wanting to get a rise out of him, “I’ve touched myself to you many times. Wishing it was you touching me instead.”
“You have not.”
“I have,” you really had.
“So if I asked you to have sex with me right now you’d say no?”
“Yup,” you popped the p and glanced up to find him watching you incredulously, “again, there’s a difference between me wishing it was you and not my hand and it actually being you. I’m not having sex with you, Dee.”
“But-”
“We’re best friends,” you sighed lightly as he made a small noise of annoyance, “I want to always be your best friend. I don’t want us to have sex and ruin our relationship. If we had sex there would be feelings involved and I can’t risk that with you. I don’t think I could live with a broken heart because of you.”
“You’re just assuming that things would go wrong,” was that a note of…hurtin this voice? You swallowed thickly before shifting your gaze from his, “why…you really think I’d hurt you?”
“I don’t inherently assume you’re going to hurt me,” you promised, “you never have. You’ve always been there for me. You know you’re the most important person to me. But I can’t risk losing you.”
“Then give me a chance.”
“I…no, Dee,” you closed your laptop before stuffing into your bag, “I should get going…I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay?”
“Sure,” his voice was flat as you flitted by him. He expected that you’d kiss his cheek or top of his head as was your custom, but this time you just walked by. He tried to ignore the pang that settled in his heart at the obvious distance you suddenly felt the need to create. He should have just kept his damn mouth shut but no…he just had to go and mess it up, “fuck.”
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──
It turns out you did not see him the next night, making up a lame excuse about having to work late that evening. While your work at the museum did occasionally offer up odd hours, perks of being a curator, he knew you were lying. It had hurt your heart too, lying to the best friend you’d ever had, but you just needed some space from him to think. Maybe then you’d be able to get your mind straightened out.
One canceled movie night had led to several missed brunches and lunches and everything in between. It hurt every time just as much as the first. You knew he knew you were lying. He’d texted you countless times asking what was wrong, what he did wrong, how he could fix everything. He just wanted his best friend back. So did you.
You really did love him. You really did want him, but you didn’t want to just be another fuck for him or end up as friends with benefits or start a relationship with him and then have everything ruined. Where you really willing to give up over fifteen years of friendship for sex? No.
He’d remain your best friend and you’d find another way to satisfy your other needs. Which is precisely how you’d found yourself at a bar that was too loud and too crowded and totally not what you wanted to be doing on a Friday night. You should have been at home with him in your pajamas, eating pizza, drinking cheap wine, and watching shitty movies.
But your date was nice; he’d checked off all the boxes. Handsome, smart, decently funny…but also completely not what you wanted. You wanted the zany craziness of your best friend.
“Fuck,” you groaned quietly at yourself before downing the rest of your drink. Your date had gone to the bathroom so you had a moment to breathe by yourself. The peace, however, did not last long because before you knew it, you felt someone behind you, an arm wrapping around your waist, “what the-”
“Hola bonita,” oh no. There was no way he had managed to find you here. He rested his head on your shoulder before pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “I see while you’re busy ignoring me you’ve got plenty of time to come here.”
“I haven’t been…” he smelled so good and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. You were going to blame that on the alcohol, “avoiding you.”
“Of course,” he whispered in your ear, “I’ve only known you for how long? You don’t think I know every time you lie to me?”
“Dee-”
“I’m not going to push you,” he promised and by gods were you tempted to turn your head and kiss him, “if you don’t even want to be friends anymore, that’s on you. It’s all up to you, bonita. But I’ll leave you so you can get back to your little date. He’s cute, maybe a little too preppy, but he’s got looks. I hope you think of me when you’re with him. I could be a better boyfriend than him.”
“Dee-” but just before you turned around, he was off of you and disappearing back into the thick throng of the crowd. A small sound of frustration escaped your lips as you motioned for the bartender to bring you another drink. Part of you was furious with him for pulling this little stunt and part of you couldn’t blame him. You were after all the reason for the shift in your relationship with him. You were the one that had told him you’d fantasized about having sex with him, not the other way around. Now you were left to wonder how long he’d felt the same. How long had your best friend thought about you as more than a friend? If it was anywhere near as long as you had, then it had been years. Fools, silly, dumb fools.
“Everything alright?” Ethan - wait was his name Ethan? Aaron? James? No - it was definitely Julián. Either way, he’d made his way back to you and hopped back into the stool next to you, his leg brushing against yours. He was handsome - and now that you really studied him, you could see why you thought so. A mop of dark curls and warm brown eyes with a golden complexion and a strong jaw. Not completely unlike - fuck. You quickly thought back to the previous men you’d dated and yeah…there was a startling trend when you realized they all bore some resemblance to your best friend, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Yeah, it’s all…everything’s fine,” you lied, taking the drink that had just been placed in front of you and downing it all in one go. Julián said nothing but chucked slightly before finishing his own drink. It wasn’t that…there was nothing wrong with him. He was nice, kind, and charming but he wasn’t him. He wasn’t your eccentric, wild artist best friend that often made you wonder if he’d huffed too much paint. You leaned in and let your lips brush against his ear, “do you want to get out of here?”
He turned to you with wide eyes as a flush worked its way into his cheeks. He hadn’t been expecting your question considering your ambivalence towards him, “yes.”
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──
He went through the motions of sex methodically; there’d been a lot of making out beforehand, he’d fingered you and then ate you like it was his job and hadn’t expected you to go down on him. You’d let him do the work, finding your heart wasn’t in it but you needed something - anything - to keep your mind occupied. Despite reassuring him you were on the pill and clean he opted to use a condom just to be extra careful (what a rarity but appreciated nonetheless), and opted for missionary. You weren’t able to look him in the eyes as he fucked you, pretending it was all too much and squeezed your eyes shut.
He was determined to make sure you came again, focused on your pleasure as much as his, but when you finally felt yourself reaching a second high, it all went downhill.
“Fuck yes, Dee, right there,” the words were out of your mouth before you even realized what had happened. Julián stilled, buried inside of you, as both realized what had happened. He let out a huff of bitter laughter before pulling out of you and rolling to the side, “Julián, I-I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened-”
“I think I should go,” he was already up, disposing of the used condom before grabbing his clothes and hastily pulling them on.
“Julián-”
“I think you need to figure out your own feelings before we see each other again,” he sighed as you hung your head, pulling the sheet around your frame, “look, I really like you. You’re great, but I’m not going to be a replacement for whoever Dee is.”
“You’re not a replacement…”
“You don’t have to lie to me or yourself,” he was already headed out of your bedroom, “like I said, figure it out and if you still want to give this a try, call me. Chao cariño.”
“Julián,” but he was already gone and you were frustrated in every sense of the word, “fuck. Fuck.”
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──
Dieter almost jumped when he heard the loud, rapid knocking on his door. He’d been in the middle of working his way through another bag of kit-kats (hey, they were minis, don’t judge) and watching a random show on Netflix when he was startled out of his thoughts. He glanced down at his phone and realized it was much later than he had thought. Who could be at his door at this time of night?
He stood up, grumbling at the cracking of his stiff joints before walking to the door, not even bothering to check who it was.
“Dee,” you were standing there, in your pajamas, soaking wet from the sudden downpour. His expression went through a mixture of emotions as he stood there, silently watching you, “do you love me?”
“I…what?” he was so stunned by your question, “of course I do. You’re my best friend.”
“No - I…are you in love with me?” you were still trying to catch your breath from having practically run to his apartment from your own, not trusting yourself enough to drive. Your heart was pounding in your chest from both the run and your nerves, so loud that you were sure he could hear it, “please, I have to know.”
Dieter paused for a moment, staring down at his croc covered feet - despite how hard you tried to get him to ditch them he never did - and let out a long, heavy breath. His silence had you worried; what if you’d read this all wrong and he just loved you as a friend that he wanted to have sex with. He wet his plush lips before letting himself meet your eyes, “yes.”
“Yeah?” you were ready to burst into tears as he just nodded in stunned silence.
“Yeah.”
“Me too,” there it was - out and in the open finally after all these years, “I’m in love with you too.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he pulled you inside, into the warmth and comfort of the home you knew as well as yours. He allowed himself a small, tentative smile before brushing some of the wet hair out of your face, “mi bonita.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why would I ever think someone like you would love me?” he asked softly as you just laughed, “I’m a weird, immature, odd artist. And you’re…”
“Shut up,” you laughed, gently swatting his chest, “you’re the perfect compliment to me. We’re good apart but together we’re…even better. I’ll curate all your art as long as you want, I don’t care that you’re weird or odd or that you still wear those dumb crocs and those baggy t-shirts that you should have gotten rid of years ago and sometimes you forget to shower for too long when you’re working on a new piece and that your diet is that of a frat boy’s, and that sometimes you mess up ‘your’ and ‘you’re’…. I just…I want you. I’ve always wanted you. But please…promise me one thing.”
“Anything.”
“Don’t break my heart,” you whispered, a few tears running down your cheeks from the sheer emotion of it all. Dieter reached up and gently wiped them away before resting his hand on your face, “please don’t ever break it. I don’t think I could bear life without you, you big, dumb, gentle fool.”
“I won’t,” he promised, “never.”
“Okay,” you felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders now that it was all off your chest. All these words, all these feelings that had been pent up for so long were finally out there. It was like you could fully breathe again, “I promise too.”
“W-what about that guy you were with earlier?”
“Julián,” you couldn’t help but laugh, “yeah, things ended pretty quickly when we were having sex and I called him by your name. It’s you, it’s always been you.”
“Aye, bonita,” he laughed but stepped closer so there was almost no space in between your bodies, “you’re soaking wet. Let’s get you into some clean, dry clothes.”
“Okay,” you nodded, butterflies swarming throughout your belly, “I…”
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he gave that smile that you loved so much; the one that made his eyes crinkle and that single dimple appear, “if you want.”
“Please,” you whispered and he wasted not even a moment of time before he crashed his lips onto yours. You’d kissed him before, of course those were platonic kisses, left on a cheek or forehead, or hair. His lips had always been elusive and you’d found yourself wondering what he tasted like more than you cared to admit. He tasted of sweet chocolate from those silly KitKats he loved and kissed you with a hunger that was a delicious mix of needy desire and tender softness.
He didn’t let you go, didn’t pull back until you were both breathing dizzily out of breath and beaming at each other like fools. You took his face in your hands, gently stroking his cheek and admiring the silly patchy stubble of facial hair that you adored so much. He couldn’t help himself but steal a few more quick kisses.
“Ask me what you asked that afternoon,” you whispered against his lips, feeling as the corners of his mouth twitched up in a smile.
“What afternoon-”
“That afternoon.”
“Oh.Oh,” his cheeks flushed and he made a small sound that was nothing short of exuberance, “do you want to have sex with me?”
“Yes,” you grinned, and both of you quickly dissolved into a fit of giggles. His hands found purchase on your waist as he pulled as close to him as possible, “I really want to have sex with you.”
“Finally,” he sounded triumphant as you both laughed, “I’ve…been thinking about this for a long time.”
“Me too,” you whispered, “now get me out of these wet clothes and into bed. We have a lot of time to make up for.”
Word Count: 2900 Rating: R to Mature for the whole series, nobody under 18, scram.
Warnings: Language
Summary: You have known “Dieter Bravo” since you were kids and you two used to be thick as thieves before his big breaks when he developed a serious douchebag (and cocaine) problem. The big problem you two have isn’t a lack of compatibility or trust or whatnot, it’s that Dee continues not to acknowledge that you two have a fucking child. That he named Pickle.
^this be the vibes folks, come on in and buckle up.
A/N: As promised the Epilogue. There is plenty of room for requests of these guys :)
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says ‘creator chooses not to use warnings’. This work is rated Mature and you should be over 18 to engage by clicking keep reading you agree you are the proper age for adult content and themes.
Warnings:Drug use, phone sex, masturbation, sex toys, dirty talking, angst, Dieter being horny, slightly sub/dom undertones, begging, face riding, anal, vaginal sex
Comments: Your quarantine is supposed to be a relaxing time away from your boss, Dieter Bravo. Until he calls you complaining about his lack of stimulation. Surprising him when you agree to phone sex, you change the dynamic between the two of you, possibly forever.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
ClickKeep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says ’creator chooses not to use warnings’. You also agree that you’re the right age to be consuming anything here.
Two weeks, fourteen whole days. Broken down it would be three hundred and thirty six hours that you would be by yourself. Unable to run the most obnoxious and inconvenient errands for your boss, Dieter Bravo.
This is going to be a vacation. You smile as you glance around the small room. Nowhere near as nice as the larger suite you know the star has, you brought his bags up and set out his cocaine so he didn’t flip out when he couldn’t find it in the two point fiveseconds he was looking for it. But the room has a larger stand alone tub you could soak in and you have WiFi. No Dieter begging you to run to his room to draw a bath or wash the one shirt he just had to wear. Yep, this was going to be magical.
It takes an hour for Dieter to be bored. His hair is already messy from him running his fingers through it, and he had already snorted some coke. He knows he can’t just snort coke all day. He’s not desperate enough to risk overdosing. He groans, flicking through the TV channels as he tries to distract himself. “Fuck!” He yells, tossing the remote across the room. How is he going to endure two weeks by himself? He’s going to go crazy.
discussions of pandemic,professional sex work, professional sex industry, its a porn shoot. , squirting, rimming, throatfucking, PinV sex, premature ejaculation, facial, creampie… and feelings?!
A/N; i love this chaotic disaster duo.
This work is intended for adult audiences. By continuing, you agree that you are over the age of 18, have read the warnings and wish to proceed
Okay I am literally obsessed with this. Like I am LIVING for this! So good! I’m swooning! Words cannot describe how much I loved this. Def will be a reread when I’m feeling down!
