mysterious-moonstruck-musings

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Hi friend! Thanks for reading and I am so happy you are enjoying it so far! 💜

I feel like the details and conversations are so important. They will be friends before anything else after all. That's how they build up to it. Trust me though...things are going to go down and Dieter will start being a little bit of a menace (just the way we like him).

Don't worry. Kat is going to figure some things out by the end of week 4. Between a couple of major events and Alec's general douchey behavior, she will be over it. That sets us up for a fun week five for the Rumba. 👀😏

Closed Position: Week 2 (Foxtrot)

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

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

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

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

Chapter Word Count: 15.7k

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

Week 2 Quote:   “What’s wrong, do I have too many buttons open or something?”

Katarina’s POV Our first week of rehearsal had gone well after the initial awkwardness dissipated. I admit, I was extremely nervous about how our introduction was going to go and didn’t really know how to handle it. I had hoped Dieter and I would get a chance to talk before filming, but that didn’t happen. I was surprised by how effortlessly he pretended it was our first-time meeting, like we hadn’t had a somewhat confrontational interaction the day before. He had put on a good show, but I could still sense the tension rolling off him as we did our quick filming session. 

I knew that we needed to discuss what happened, so as soon as we were alone, I bit the bullet and brought it up to get it out of the way. I apologized for my behavior. I had to because the things that I had said to him were eating away at my conscience. My reaction wasn’t fair to him. Was he part of the problem? Yes. However, he wasn’t the cause. He was dropped in the middle of the situation just as much as I had been. He wasn’t intentionally trying to cause trouble between me and Alec. It was Stacia and Joe who were hoping that something would develop from their plotting. Dieter was just doing as he was told.

I could tell by the look on Dieter’s face that what I said had hurt him. I had a feeling that he didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t mean it. I hadn’t intended to tell him about my father, but at that moment I felt like he needed to hear it. I wanted him to know that I was sorry and that I wasn’t like everyone else who had been doubting him. He was willing to be open with me about his sobriety, so I felt like I needed to share something personal with him as well. We were going to be partners after all. That meant we needed to learn to communicate effectively and trust each other. Starting out the way we had would’ve caused us to fall apart quickly if we didn’t right it as soon as possible.  

Dieter seemed to accept my apology and appreciate what I shared about my father. He relaxed almost immediately, which led into a teasing banter between the two of us. He ended up being nothing like I expected. He was very respectful and put in a lot of effort to learn everything I was teaching him. I had a feeling he would be a decent dancer, but I was surprised at how quickly he was picking things up and how good he was in executing the moves. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I might actually have a shot to make it to finals. I just had to make sure I stayed on top of my game to help him get there. I also had to make sure I didn’t allow myself to be attracted to the man. 

The thought of finding Dieter attractive never crossed my mind when I was told he would be my partner. I had seen pictures of him before rehab and he usually looked like a mess. However, I had to admit that the man did clean up nicely. His sweet temperament and eagerness to learn didn’t help the situation. His puppy dog eyes and golden-retriever energy made it hard to not like him. There were times when his large brown orbs would look up at me through his lashes because he was unsure about something, and it would literally take my breath away. After spending up to seven hours with him every day last week to go over the basics of ballroom dance, I couldn’t deny that I found him to be alluring. 

I found myself brushing thoughts of Dieter aside often. I couldn’t allow myself to think about him like that because I had Alec. Though, Alec did have me in a constant state of frustration that left me questioning our relationship. He had been even more insufferable since I started working with Dieter, becoming more possessive than he normally was while also being less forthcoming than normal about how things were going with his own dance partner. I couldn’t help the distrust that I still felt toward him. I had a feeling this season of the show was going to be our final test. It was either going to strengthen our relationship or break it. The way it stood after the first week, the tighter he tried to hold on, the further away he was pushing me. It was adding a lot of stress to my personal life, which was quickly causing my time with Dieter to turn into an escape and that concerned me.  

We were now into Monday of week two. The week that things really started kicking off for our grueling schedule. The agenda for this particular Monday was fairly light, physically, since Mondays would normally be a live show day. Instead of the show, we were shooting promo material, which meant all the dance couples had photoshoot sessions lined up. Dieter and I were scheduled for 11 AM, but we still had to go in early for hair and makeup. The entire cast is required to use the show’s hair and makeup team which is set up in a large room inside Television City Studios. There are stations lining the perimeter of the room, each having a large mirror surrounded by lights, a counter stocked with all the needed utensils and products, and a barber chair. 

Dieter and I both arrived around the same time and grabbed some terrible coffee from Craft Services to get us through the morning, making small talk as we headed toward hair and makeup. As soon as we entered the room, we were whisked off to stations on opposite sides of the space. He was seated directly behind me, which meant we could see each other in the mirrors. It was hard not to stare, given he was right in my line of sight. I quickly noticed him doing the same thing. When our eyes would meet in the reflection, he would often give me an exasperated look as the hair stylist struggled with his tresses, then smile. I smiled back as I watched them tame his unruly curls into a more sophisticated style. They had gelled it back, but left a hint of curl to it. I couldn’t help thinking how handsome he looked as I watched him stand and head toward the wardrobe department.

Once my ridiculous amount of makeup was applied and my hair styled into an elegant low bun with sparkly diamond-like accessories, I made my way to the wardrobe department as well. They confirmed that Dieter was my partner before going to pull a couple of dress options that would coordinate with what they had put him in. I could hear Dieter laughing loudly in the back near the fitting area as one of the tailors, who I didn’t know, came to the front and told the costume coordinator behind the desk to update Dieter’s measurements because his shoulders were too broad for what they had put him in, causing him to pop a button off the shirt already. A look passed between the two women that said they were clearly smitten with the actor. I figured he probably charmed them as soon as he walked into the room. I had already noticed that he had a way of doing that. 

As one of the costumers led me back to the changing rooms, I passed by Dieter standing in front of a mirror, bare chested as the tailor from earlier handed him another black button up shirt to try. He gave me a cheesy smile, “I’m already causing trouble. I’ve busted out of my shirt.” Fucking hell, he looks good. I was taken off guard by the sight of him, and his comment. The best I could manage was a quiet chuckle as I continued toward my destination. His broad shoulders, toned chest, and sculpted arms were now seared into my brain. He had a slim waist but was a little soft around the middle. I found it to be more attractive than Alec’s overly chiseled abs. Yeah, I’m definitely going to hell. I felt hot and flustered suddenly as I took the black and silver Latin style dress from the costumer to try on and made my way into a changing room.  

After I was dressed, I walked out to the fitting area so the tailor could look over my attire. Dieter was now fully dressed but had left several of the top buttons on his shirt open and rolled the sleeves up - which wasn’t unusual for the guys on the show. However, I was finding those small areas of exposed flesh to be incredibly distracting. It was ridiculous because it wasn’t like I hadn’t seen his forearms during rehearsals when he wore t-shirts. I had to force myself to look away from his reflection as he stood nearby chatting with the tailor about the fit of the shirt in the shoulders. I almost snorted as she recommended he continue to leave several buttons open to give him room to move freely. He didn’t say anything in response, but I did notice a slight upward twitch of his left eyebrow. A small smirk formed on his lips as the tailor smiled up at him. Smooth. I can respect her game. I looked away quickly as his eyes briefly wandered over toward me. 

Once the tailor stopped fawning over Dieter, she moved to stand in front of me, eyes roaming over me to check the fit of the dress. She reached to tug at the fabric around my breast, pulling it tighter and adjusting the straps. I rolled my head back and chanced a glance in Dieter’s direction to find him watching with a furrowed brow. The tailor backed away, “Do you want sticky inserts or do you want me to pin it back?”

I sighed, “Inserts are fine if that’ll work.” She nodded before disappearing to the back. Dieter cleared his throat, his face now looking slightly flushed, “I’ll uhhh, wait for you up front.” I gave him a tight smile as I tried not to laugh at his embarrassment over watching the tailor grope at me. After doing this for 13 years, I was used to it. A few minutes later, the tailor, who I later learned was named Amy, returned with a new set of stick-on bra cups. Luckily that helped solve my issue and she sent me on my way so that we could get to the photographer on time. 

As I emerged into the front waiting area, Dieter gave me a mischievous smirk, “Did you get everything sorted out.”

I looked down at my chest, cupped both breasts in my hands briefly before looking back up at him with a blank expression, “Yeah, I think so. They aren’t popping out now.” His eyes widened before he burst out laughing. That hadn’t been the response he was expecting. I chuckled as I turned him to face the exit and pushed him toward it. 

When we walked into the room where the photographer was set up, my eyes were drawn to Alec and Lana being photographed. They were full of giggles and smiles as they posed for their promo shots. They weren’t doing anything inappropriate, but there was something about the way they kept glancing at each other that made my stomach churn. I’m being such a fucking hypocrite right now. I had literally been devouring Dieter with my eyes a few minutes prior, so it wasn’t like I had room to speak. Then again, I wasn’t the one who had a history of cheating either. I felt Dieter lean in next to me, “Hey, you ok?” 

Snapping out of the glare I was surely throwing their way, I glanced up at Dieter, “Yeah, I’m good.” I gave him a tight smile which didn’t seem too convincing. He looked back toward Alec and Lana, his face shifting as he studied them. I wondered if he could see what I saw between them. There was definitely chemistry there. A moment later, I felt his hand on my shoulder as he gave it a small reassuring squeeze. It seemed like he was trying to communicate something without words, but I didn’t know what to make of it. 

Alec and Lana were finished soon after our arrival. Alec seemed surprised to see us once he finally looked in my direction. He made a beeline toward Dieter and I, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing me on the cheek, “Hey baby, you look good.” 

I gave him a confused smile. He wasn’t usually this touchy while we were in work mode. He glanced over at Dieter and reached his hand out to introduce himself as my “soon to be husband”. Oh…it’s because of Dieter. He’s getting territorial. For fucks sake. Dieter didn’t skip a beat, immediately turning on that Bravo charm. Alec didn’t seem to buy it, but that didn’t stop him from making small talk as he sized Dieter up. The two men were of similar height, but Dieter was much broader and thick, while Alec was leaner and more sculpted. There was no contest there. 

In my periphery, I noticed Lana giving me the stink eye from the other side of the room. Well, that tells me all I need to know about her. I awkwardly moved to extract myself from Alec’s hold, noting that the photographer was ready for us. As we listened to the photographer’s instructions, I could tell Dieter’s energy was off. I glanced back in the direction we had come from, realizing Alec was still standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. His intimidating gaze now focused on us. The photographer politely suggested a few poses for us, we complied but I could tell Dieter was hesitating when it came to touching me.

After Alec left the room, the energy shifted. Both of us eventually relaxing enough to have fun with it as I instructed him into several less intimate dance poses. We spent a lot of time laughing over his failed attempts. Once our hour was up, the photographer seemed happy with the shots he had taken. Even commenting that we had been one of the more fun couples that he had worked with so far. Dieter took the credit for that, citing that he was just a fun guy to be around. I couldn’t help but to roll my eyes at him. At that point, we were finished for the day. We quickly got changed and said our goodbyes so we could go home to rest and prepare for what was to come. 

Tuesdays started with production meetings. Today we would be having our first one to go over the details of our routine - the dance, costumes, and music. I always hated these meetings and felt like it was something that could have been given to us in writing. However, I suspected these meetings served another purpose. It was an opportunity for Stacia and Joe to see how the dancers and celebrities were getting along. A chance for them to learn about our relationships and see where they could throw the gasoline next. Knowing that was most likely the real reasoning caused my frustrations to grow. It made me feel anxious in a way that had never been an issue in the past because I knew they were looking to manipulate us in any way they could. I knew I would need to be vigilant and make sure we were not playing into their games. 

I had debated warning Dieter about Stacia and Joe and was still considering it while I ate my breakfast. As I was finishing up, my phone pinged with multiple texts from Alec with an absurd number of questions about my schedule for the week. I let out a controlled breath as I read through them - rolling my eyes before throwing my phone down on the counter without responding. I didn’t have time for that, nor did I want to deal with it. Instead, I moved toward the bathroom to shower and get ready for my day. 

Dieter’s POV My Tuesday had a ridiculously early start. My upcoming schedule was so packed my assistant had to work hard to squeeze in appointments with my therapist wherever he could. So that’s how I ended up in Dr. Smith’s office at 7 AM. Of course, the topic of the day was how things were going with my dance partner and rehearsals. Dr. Smith seemed to zero in on the topic of feelings when I made a comment about how weird it was being so physically close to someone for so long - that it almost felt inappropriate and uncomfortable at times. She immediately asked me to expand on that. After a few minutes of struggling to put it into words, she finally spoke up to share her thoughts. 

“Dieter, we’ve talked about your aversion to intimacy before. I think that’s where this is coming from. I don’t know much about ballroom dancing, but I do know it involves a lot of intimacy and you are not used to that.” 

 I shook my head, “But it’s not like that…it’s not sexual.” Not physically anyway…my thoughts are another story. 

She chuckled, “Intimacy isn’t just sexual. You can have intimacy with friends and family too. It can be emotional, intellectual, creative…there are so many ways to connect with someone that doesn’t involve sex. It’s something that quite frankly, you’ve been starved of and avoided most of your life. So, I can see why it would make you uncomfortable and why you would have the urge to shy away from it.” 

I snorted and spoke before I realized what I was doing, “But I don’t wanna…” Fuck. I caught myself too late.

Her brow furrowed, “You don’t want to what?” 

I sighed, “I don’t wanna shy away from it. I actually enjoy being around Kat. It’s just a little…intense, I guess. It makes me feel anxious and something else…that I don’t really know how to explain.”

Dr. Smith tilted her head slightly as she took in my words, “Dieter, are you attracted to her?” 

Yes. “No…I mean she’s nice looking. I can’t deny that, but she has a fiancée. It’s just…s-she treats me…like a person. She doesn’t look at me and see a fuck up. She’s giving me a chance and not just automatically assuming that I’m gonna fall back into old habits. You know what I mean?”

Dr. Smith nodded, “So, you’re developing a relationship with her that isn’t based on sex or favors.” 

I rubbed at the deep crease between my brows, “Yeah, I guess so. I suppose it’s probably the closest thing that I’ve had to an actual friendship in a long time…but I mean, it’s only been a week. So, I’m not even sure if I can call it that…but it does feel like more than just working together if that makes sense? We laugh, we joke, we vibe. I guess it does feel like we have some type of connection….and…I find myself wanting to…please her?” I cringed as soon as the words left my mouth, “NO! Not that. Umm, I guess…do a good job is what I mean. I don’t wanna let her down.” 

We stared at each other for a beat, Dr. Smith had a thoughtful look on face as she digested my words. “Dieter…this might be a good thing for you. I want you to work on being open with her. Develop the friendship between the two of you. I think it would be good practice for you, emotionally, to connect with someone in that way. It sounds like she’s willing to build a friendship with you and give you the benefit of the doubt. I know you’ve been seeking that…and it would be good for you to have a friend that’s supportive of your recovery. You don’t have a lot of that right now…and it’s important.”

This is a bad fucking idea. “Ok…yeah. I’ll try.” 

I left that therapy session feeling more on edge than I did before I had gone in. I was feeling a lot of conflict and confusion about my feelings toward Kat, which was ridiculous because I hadn’t known her for that long. Sure, I thought she was physically attractive and normally that alone would’ve been enough for me to pursue her for sex. Aside from the fact that she was taken, I actually didn’t want to ruin what we were potentially building for a quick roll in the sack. I wanted more. I enjoyed spending time with her, and she made me want to be better. I found myself wondering what it would be like to spend time with her outside of the dance studio - doing something as simple as getting lunch or stopping into a bookstore to find a book together that we could discuss after reading. I had never wanted something like that with someone. It was both scary and exciting. 

I soon found myself parking outside Television City Studios for our first production meeting. I now had a fluttering in my stomach that was almost foreign. As I sat rolling up the sleeves of my dress shirt, I decided it was nerves related to the impending live show in less than a week's time. The production meeting made it feel more real and imminent. 

Walking into the main entrance, I spotted Kat waiting in the lobby. Her eyes locked on me as I approached. She had an odd expression, her eyes seeming to roam over me before she met my gaze with a smirk on her face.

“What’s wrong, do I have too many buttons open or something?” I asked, jokingly.

She laughed nervously as she shook her head, “No. Your buttons are open just the right amount…That shade of blue looks really good on you.”   

I smiled as my face heated from the compliment. I leaned my head downward and swiped my thumb across my bottom lip before glancing back up at her. Is she blushing? She looks flushed. 

She cleared her throat, “Umm…before we get called in there, I wanted to warn you about Stacia and Joe. They like to…try and…”

I smirked, thinking back to my first interaction with them, “Create drama?” 

Kat huffed out a laugh, “Yeah…that. I have a feeling they’re gonna try and manipulate things with us and with Alec and Lana. It’s all about ratings with them.” 

I nodded, “I picked up on that during our first meeting. I figured. Don’t worry about it. I’m not gonna play into whatever it is they’re trying to do.” 

She had a sad smile on her face now, “Thank you. I appreciate that. At least two of us are on the same page.” 

Two? What does that mean? I opened my mouth to ask but was interrupted by a production assistant who was sent to lead us to the meeting space.

Once we entered the conference room, we were greeted with a smiling Stacia and Joe. Kat and I took our seats on the opposite side of the table from them, careful not to sit too closely together. I could tell they were studying us as soon as we walked through the door, looking for their angle. Stacia spoke first, “So, how is everything going with you two? Did you have a good first week of rehearsals?” 

Kat and I gave each other a knowing look before I responded. “It’s been going good. Kat is a great teacher…I seem to be picking things up quickly.”  

Stacia and Joe stared at me for a moment. Stacia’s brow arched slightly, like she was waiting for me to say more. When I didn’t, she finally smiled, “Well…that’s good to hear. We want to make sure you two are getting along ok.” 

Kat leaned forward and tilted her head slightly, “Is there a reason that we wouldn’t?” 

Stacia laughed and shifted nervously in her seat, “Of course not…just making conversation.” 

Well, that’s interesting. I had a feeling that Kat made Stacia uncomfortable, maybe even intimidated her some. Kat did seem to be giving off dominating vibes, which was fucking hot. Stacia cleared her throat as she pulled a couple sheets of paper out of a folder and slid them toward us. It appeared to be sketches for our costumes. They were both completely black. Kat’s gown was long and flowy with a very low back and front. 

“Your first performance will be the Foxtrot to the song Fever. You’ll be doing the behind the scenes filming on Friday this week. Do you have any objections to the costume sketches?” 

I glanced over at Kat, ready to agree with whatever she said since I wasn’t sure what she was comfortable with. 

Kat glanced down one last time, “I’m fine with them, Dieter?”   

I shrugged, “I’m good if she is.” 

We sat in an awkward silence for a beat, staring at each other. What the hell is this?

“Is there anything else?” Kat finally asked. 

Stacia nodded, “No. I guess not…unless you guys have anything to discuss?” 

Kat and I both shook our heads with confused expressions. 

Stacia eyed Kat, “Have you met Lana yet? I know she was excited to meet you.”

The energy around Kat shifted, her eyes darkened, and her jaw clenched at the question. Fuck. Please don’t react to that. “We did yesterday.” I said, speaking before I had time to think through my response. “She seemed very nice…Alec too. We had a lovely chat during the photoshoot.” I forced a smile and hoped it didn’t look fake. We need to get out of here. “Well, it was nice seeing you two again. We need to get to the dance studio to start working on our routine. I need all the practice I can get.”  

I looked over at Kat, who was giving me a grateful smile as she moved toward the door. We said our goodbyes as we exited the room, walking in silence until we reached the lobby. Kat turned to look at me, her brows furrowed as she chewed on her bottom lip.

“What the fuck was that?” I asked, completely confused by the interaction. 

“I dunno, it was bizarre. I guess they’re trying to figure out how to stir up drama between the four of us. I can guarantee it won’t be coming from either of us.”  

I arched my brows, “What do you mean?” 

She shook her head, not saying anything as she reached for her phone to check the time. “Our rehearsal space should be open soon. I’m gonna run home and grab my bag. I forgot it.”

I nodded, “Yeah…I’ll meet you there.”

That was an odd response from her. It made me wonder if something was going on with her and Alec. I could sense tension between them during the photoshoot but couldn’t exactly work out the cause of it. Whatever the reasoning, I felt like Stacia was aware of it and was actively trying to work it in her favor for ratings. That did make me sad for Kat because she didn’t deserve it.   

Kat moved to leave, but stopped, waving her phone as she turned to face me, “I guess we should probably exchange numbers…” 

“Oh, right. Of course.” I quickly typed my number into her phone. She followed up by shooting me a quick text with a waving emoji so I would have hers, then we said our goodbyes for now. 

I decided to grab an early lunch before heading to the dance studio. I briefly wondered if I should have asked Kat if she wanted anything. I was tempted to text her but didn’t want to start abusing my texting privileges already. She probably only wanted me to text if I was running late or something anyway. 

As I sat in the parking lot of the dance studio, eating my burrito, a hand smacked against the driver side window. It startled me, nearly causing me to drop my food. I hit the button to lower the glass and was met with Kat’s laughter as she moved to lean against my car. 

I sat smiling at her until her giggles finally subsided.

“Thanks for that. You were very close to cleaning the inside of my car.” 

She smiled, “I would have too, because it would’ve been my fault. I’m sorry. Totally worth it though.” 

I rolled my eyes at her, taking another bite. 

She leaned down, nearly sticking her head inside the car, “That looks good, where’s that from?”

“That Mexican place on Spring Street. I’ve got another, you want it? They’re fucking huge. No way I can eat it.”  Which was the truth. I wasn’t expecting them to be so big. She scrunched her nose, “What kind is it?” She’s too fucking adorable when she does that. 

I reached to pull the foil wrapped burrito out of the bag and held it up to her, “Cheesy steak and rice.”

She snatched it out of my hand, “If you insist. I’m never gonna turn down food.”

I laughed at her, “Good to know. Next time I’ll get your order.”

She moved to lean against the hood of my car as I got out with what was left of my burrito in one hand and my soda in the other. I leaned against the hood beside her and set my drink down between us as she started eating. A quiet moan escaped her lips causing little Bravo to involuntarily twitch in my pants. Fuck. That was hot.

“Ugh, this is so good. I’ve never been to that place. Clearly, I need to go.”

All I could muster in response was a nod. We ate in silence for a few minutes before she reached for my drink, tilting it forward and raising a brow at me as if to ask if it was ok. I nodded again and she took a quick sip before setting it back down. Once I finally got my thoughts in check, I was surprised by how at ease she seemed around me today.

Kat licked at the juices running down the side of her hand. I laughed at her and reached into the car to grab some napkins, handing them to her as she spoke, “Maybe we can start grabbing lunch on Tuesdays after our production meetings. We could get a head start discussing our routine since we have this odd break before our scheduled studio time.” 

“Yeah, I’m cool with that.” More than I should be. I was giddy at the thought of spending time with her outside of rehearsals. 

Her eyes narrowed on me as I finished up the last of my food, “So what does Dieter Bravo do in his free time?”    

I gave her a small smile as she stared at me with a soft gaze, “These days, not a whole lot. I moved into a beach house in Santa Monica about six months ago. I mostly just hole up there with my plants, music, and art supplies. I’ve pretty much had to change my whole life around since I got out of rehab.”

She had a sad smile on her lips now, nodding as she swallowed her latest bite. I had a feeling she knew what all that meant. “Plants and art supplies? So, you grow things and paint?” 

I laughed, “Yes…and I do mean houseplants. Don’t get any ideas.” 

She chuckled, “The thought didn’t even cross my mind.” She paused, rolling back the wrapping on her burrito, “It’s unexpected and cool, actually. I love art. I don’t have an artistic bone in my body, but I do love looking at other people’s work.” 

I raised a questioning eyebrow at her, “Dance is an art form…”

She rolled her eyes, “You know what I mean…painting, drawing…those kinds of things.”

I nodded, “Well, anyone can paint. So, don’t sell yourself short on that. You should give it a try. It’s a good stress reliever.” 

She shrugged, “What about the plants? Why plants?” 

I chuckled, “I don’t fucking know. That’s a fairly new obsession. I guess…I like learning about them. They all have different needs. There’s something about watching them grow and thrive from the care I’m putting into them. They also add a little extra something…makes the house homier.” I shook my head and laughed. Geez, I sound ridiculous. 

She smiled at me, “What’s wrong? Are you embarrassed by your love of plants?” 

I could feel my face heating up, “No…I mean, maybe. It’s a little weird, don’t ya think?”

She shook her head, “It’s surprising, but not weird. I kind of love it. It’s sweet.” 

Her eyes sparkled as she gave me an endearing smile, which caused knots to form in my stomach. She moved to take another drink from my soda, and I suddenly found her lips wrapping around the straw to be a little distracting. I had to force my line of sight elsewhere. 

She groaned as she stuck the last bit of the burrito in her mouth, “Ugh, I’m probably gonna regret that. Good thing we have some time to digest while we talk about our routine.” I laughed as I reached into the car to grab my bag so I could change once we got inside. 

After I got changed, Kat found our song and played it. We listened in silence while we did some basic stretches. After the song concluded, she sat quietly with her legs stretched out in front of her, thinking. She let out a controlled breath as she rubbed her hands down her face.  

“Ok, so…the foxtrot is probably one of the more difficult standard dances to learn. We haven’t gone over it yet. It requires a heel lead and gliding steps that should appear effortless and elegant. It’s a box step similar to the waltz, but the timing is different…it’s a mixture of slow steps that take up two beats and quick steps that take up one beat. It’s a slow, slow, quick, quick movement while maintaining a closed position with your partner. Let’s start with the basic steps, then we’ll start adding the flare to it.” 

I sat on the floor in front of her, listening intently, nodding along. She moved to stand, reaching out her hands to help pull me up to my feet. We spent a good amount of time working on the basic steps. She started with having me do the steps alone so she could watch my movements. It took a little longer than I would have liked to get the timing right, but I eventually caught on. Once I had it down, we assumed the closed position and began moving together. Initially her proximity was distracting, but I was able to move past it and focus on our movements. After we mastered the basics moving both forward and backwards, she added turning box steps to the mix.   

Now that I had the footwork down for the foxtrot, Kat wasted no time jumping in to craft a routine for us. I mostly watched her as she talked through ideas, occasionally stopping to work out the steps and movements on her own. She asked for input, but I didn’t feel confident enough to really have an opinion on any of it at this point. Overall, it was a light day as we worked through our plans. The afternoon flew by, and our rehearsal time was up before we knew it. 

As we were leaving, Kat warned me that we would be hitting things pretty hard for the rest of the week, so I needed to prepare myself. I laughed it off, but honestly, I was terrified. I was nervous about the increased physical contact with her. I had done well ignoring it so far, but I knew once we started getting into the routines, the contact was going to increase exponentially. It wasn’t just the fact that I found her to be incredibly attractive, but also because physical closeness was something that I never did with people that I didn’t have an active sexual relationship with. Even in those instances, it was about pleasure and nothing else. This was going to be weird for me and I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it.

When I got home that evening, I had a quick dinner then grabbed my tablet with the thought that I would look up some foxtrot videos on YouTube. I figured it might give me some ideas so I could have input on our routine since Kat insisted that she wanted me involved. I made my way out back to sit on a lounger next to the firepit - allowing the sounds of the ocean to lull me into relaxation before I went down my YouTube rabbit hole. 

I was honestly shocked at the range of routines I watched. Some were very serious and professional while others favored the more sensual side of the dance. I could feel my stomach fluttering at the thought of dancing like that with Kat. Sure, the idea was slightly arousing, but also imagining her looking at me the way these dancers were looking at each other caused my heart to skip a beat. It was a new kind of feeling that I couldn’t really find the words for. 

At some point, a video of Kat popped up from a previous season of the show. I watched it a couple of times, studying her face and the way she moved with her partner. It all felt very cold, like she was just going through the motions. She seemed focused on trying to get her partner through the routine rather than feeling the emotions of the dance. I eventually scrolled down to the ‘suggested videos’ section, finding a few of Kat and Alec from professional dance competitions that were several years old. In these, Kat was different. It was clear that she and Alec had chemistry on the dance floor. The way she moved her body was hypnotic and the way she looked at Alec was almost carnal. I couldn’t imagine her dancing like this with me. The thought of it made me dizzy and anxious. I wouldn’t be able to handle that level of emotion from her.  

Sighing, I set the tablet down on the ground beside me. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the lounger, trying to get that visual out of my mind. After a few minutes of contemplative silence, I sensed movement near my feet. When I opened my eyes, I was greeted by the furry intruder that refused to leave my yard. He sat for a moment, staring at me as if to ask if he could approach me. When I didn’t react, he hopped up onto my lap and meowed loudly in my face. I sighed, finally giving in to his cuteness and scratched behind his ears. He wasted no time crawling up my chest to rub his head against my beard, “Alright little dude, don’t get too excited. This isn’t gonna be a thing.” 

I couldn’t help the laugh that slipped between my lips as he started purring. This fucking cat. My arms slid around his small frame and cuddled him closer. I realized he felt a little boney under all that fur. I sighed louder this time, “I fucking knew this was gonna happen. You finally got me dude…come on.” I sat him down on the ground, grabbed my tablet, and got up to walk toward the house. He followed behind me, swishing his tail. I walked through the sliding door into the kitchen in search of something for him to eat. I found a few packets of tuna in the pantry and grabbed one. When I turned around, I was met with two green eyes staring at me from the floor. I chuckled, “Please, do come in.” I grabbed a bowl and emptied the pouch into it. He waited patiently for me to set it down in front of him - immediately digging in once I did, making little growling noises as he ate. I guess I have a fucking cat now.   

Katarina’s POV As I drove home, I took the time to reflect on my day. Stacia almost got a rise out of me this morning. I couldn’t let her do that because it would only add fuel to the flames she was trying to create. It was clear to me now that she was hoping Lana would drive a wedge between Alec and me. My fear was that it was working. I could already tell he had been more distant since rehearsals started. It wasn’t unusual given our schedules, but he would usually send texts throughout the day. I hadn’t received one from him since yesterday. I could feel the hurt creeping in. However, there was also a part of me hoping he would fuck up again because it was all beginning to be too much. I wanted to give up and I wanted out. 

Then there was Dieter. It was obvious that he sensed my unease at the mention of Lana, and he jumped in to cover for me without hesitation. He was damn near believable in his response. He and I hadn’t discussed anything related to Alec and Lana in detail, but I felt like he knew there was more to it than I had shared. I had to appreciate that he didn’t try to pry for information while also acting as the supportive dance partner. 

I don’t know what it is about Dieter, but I feel comfortable with him. Even though most people would probably call me crazy for it, I actually trust him. The realization hit me this morning after the production meeting. As I drove toward the dance studio, I made a conscious decision to build a friendship with him because I felt like he really needed it. Maybe we both did. 

When I finally got home, I quickly ate some leftovers while I waited for the bathtub to fill up. I knew I needed to start taking extra steps to keep my body happy if I was going to make it through this season. I was doing ok so far - seeming to have no pain or inflammation present in my joints. I knew that could change at any time. Especially once we really got going in rehearsals. I was already dreading the Latin dances. I knew that the knee and hip pain would start quickly with those. The foot pain would come soon enough. The dance shoes always got that going, which was why I hadn’t worn any during rehearsals yet. I had planned to limit those as much as possible. After I finished eating, I took all my daily supplements that I had forgotten that morning, then got into the tub to relax. 

I found my thoughts drifting back to Dieter, remembering how the blue color of the dress shirt he had on this morning looked amazing against his skin. Then I remembered how my attention was drawn to his exposed forearms – to his tattoos peeking out and the way the muscles flexed as he moved his hands when he spoke. As the day went on, I began having a ridiculous urge to touch his hair. That started while we were outside the studio, leaning against his car. The soft waves were gently blowing in the breeze begging to have my fingers run through them. He was so effortlessly handsome and clearly lacked the confidence to go with it, which was surprising to me. 

Then my thoughts jumped to a shirtless Dieter from the day before. I suddenly felt that familiar throb between my thighs. Fucking hell, don’t go there Kat. I was tempted to let my mind continue down that path, but I knew it would be wrong. I couldn’t entertain those thoughts, no matter how good I thought he looked. Especially if I wanted to establish a legitimate friendship with him. I sighed and dunked myself under the water for a moment, hoping that would clear my head. It didn’t. I got out of the tub and went to bed frustrated. 

I awoke to the sound of pounding on the front door. Glancing at the clock, it was close to 1 AM. I sighed and got out of bed. As I got closer to the door, I could hear Alec drunkenly rambling to let him in. I was half tempted to leave his ass out there. When I opened the door, he stumbled inside, hugging me against him and almost pulling both of us to the floor.

I pushed him off me, “Alec…what the fuck?”   

He blew his beer laden breath across my face as he spoke in a slur, “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t wanna drive home. I was at the bar up the street with the guys…I can’t find my phone.” 

“You realize we have a group rehearsal in the morning, right?” 

He waved his hand at me like it was no big deal and stumbled off toward the bedroom, collapsing on the bed, fully dressed. This was a good reminder as to why we hadn’t moved in together yet. I huffed, moving to take his shoes and clothes off while he mumbled something about wanting to fuck before fully passing out. Once I got him situated, I crawled into bed and settled in for a night of restless sleep. 

Alec woke me before my alarm went off, kissing down my neck. I admittedly was still a little worked up from the night before, so I went with it. I briefly stopped him, reaching into the nightstand for a condom. He rolled his eyes in protest as I handed it to him, but I wasn’t taking any chances. He put the condom on before flipping me over, pulling my hips up to meet him, then pulling my shorts down so he could roughly take me from behind. He didn’t last long, and I got no satisfaction from it. When he was done, he got into the shower without a word. This dismissive behavior wasn’t out of the ordinary for him, but something felt different. I felt like he was staking his claim, reminding me that I belonged to him. I suddenly hated myself for allowing it to happen like that. It made me feel dirty somehow.  

After he was showered and dressed, he gave me a quick kiss on the forehead and said he would see me at group rehearsals. I nodded, watching him as he walked out of the bedroom. He seemed off, but I couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was just a bad hangover and everything else was all in my head. 

Wednesdays were always the worst. Every week, the professional dancers did a group performance at the start of the show. I really wished they wouldn’t do these because it just added more to our plate. Luckily the first few weeks were not as bad since we still had so many cast members to take up airtime. The burden of the extra performances would increase as more groups were voted off. Eventually, the celebrities would be added to the group performances. I wasn’t looking forward to that as we progressed through the competition. Since it was the first week, this rehearsal went fast, and it was fairly easy. Alec struggled through it, clearly hung over from the night before, but I didn’t feel bad for him.

After five hours of rehearsals with the professional cast, I had to rush to grab a late lunch. I didn’t have much time before meeting with Dieter for our late afternoon rehearsal. When I arrived at the dance studio, Dieter was there waiting. He was laying on the floor, his head propped on his bag with a tablet sitting on his chest. His eyes met mine as he smiled up at me. 

“What are you doing?” I asked through a chuckle. 

He grabbed the tablet and quickly sat up, “I hope you don’t mind…but I pulled up some videos last night to get some ideas.” 

I don’t know why this surprised me. I figured he would leave most of the choreography to me. However, I loved that he was trying. He looked a little sheepish as he asked if he could show me a couple of things. I smiled and nodded as I sat on the floor beside him, mirroring the way he was sitting, with my legs stretched out in front of me. He gave me a shy smile as he turned on his tablet, “Don’t laugh, but I made a playlist and saved them.” I didn’t laugh, but I couldn’t help smiling at him. I watched as he opened the YouTube app to the ‘home’ tab. He quickly tapped on the ‘foxtrot’ playlist, but not before I saw my name in the title of a video under the ‘watch history’ section. I could feel my heart rate pickup as he glanced over at me, fighting a shy smile. 

“Yeah, I saw that…you watching videos of me, Bravo?” I asked with a teasing tone.

He shrugged, still trying not to smile as his cheeks flushed, “I watched a lot of videos from previous seasons. You may have been in one or two of them.” 

“Mmmhmm. Right.” 

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Anyway…I was thinking what we have so far feels almost mechanical…if that makes sense?” He’s not wrong. Dieter glanced at me; his dark eyes rounded as he took in my expression. I think he was worried it would upset me. 

I pursed my lips, “I don’t disagree with that. Thank you for pointing it out.”

His shoulders relaxed, “Ok, good. I was afraid that would piss you off.” 

I rolled my eyes, “It takes a lot more than that to piss me off. I always want you to be open about what you’re feeling. Besides, I didn’t think it felt right either. So…what are you thinking?” 

He inhaled deeply before launching into his thoughts, “Well, I think we need to add some emotion to it to start…nothing too crazy…I’ve saved a few videos. I think if we can find a good balance in the emotion and feel of all these dances it would be perfect. I don’t mind doing a little acting with it.”  

He had picked some very good examples. The first few videos showed professional choreography infused with different dance styles. The last few included a lot of acting and storytelling with the dancers' movements and were more toward the sensual side of things. During the last few videos, I could see the tension in his face. He was worried it would bother me. It didn’t of course since this was what dancing was about. I, however, was concerned about what that meant for me emotionally. It was going to require a lot of trust and a deeper connection that I usually didn’t have with my dance partners on the show. There was also the tiny issue of me finding Dieter Bravo to be incredibly attractive. 

Once the last video ended, I glanced up at him. “You're ok with doing that kind of stuff?”  

His eyebrows shot up, “I mean, maybe not that intense. Those...are a lot… but I’m comfortable with whatever you're comfortable with.”  

I nodded, surprised of his willingness to try something different. “You know…our song has sort of a jazzy sound. Maybe we can infuse some jazz elements into it?”

Dieter’s eyes lit up at that suggestion, “I’m actually digging that idea.”

“Ok…well, this dance isn’t gonna figure itself out. Let’s get going.” I stood, “We need to make sure we stretch more going forward because it’s about to get a lot harder on our bodies. You’re probably about to hate me.” 

He looked worried as I told him to lay back flat on the floor and moved to help him with some leg stretches - leaning against him to push back on his leg first with it straight in the air then against his knee to push it into his chest. He whined and groaned through it the entire time. After completing the same steps with his other leg, I had him sit up and put his feet flat together in front of him in a butterfly pose. I took the same position in front of him, keeping his legs in place with my knees and pulled him forward by his hands. He again began whining through it. I had to appreciate that he didn’t make it awkward like most people did, but it was near impossible not to laugh at his dramatic behavior. We went through several more partner stretches, both of us trying to keep it together as his dramatics increased with each new stretch. 

By the time we were done with the stretches, Dieter was already breaking out in a sweat. He gave me the stink eye and huffed as he got up off the floor, “I’m fairly certain that could be classified as some form of torture.”  

I laughed, “Stop being a drama queen. We’ve gotta keep those hips loose or you won’t make it through the Latin dances.” 

He raised an eyebrow at me, “I have loose hips?” 

I chuckled, “Surprisingly, yes.”

He smirked, “I take it that’s a good thing?” 

I nodded, smiling back at him, “It’s good for a lot of things.” I did not just say that.

“For dancing…it’s good for a lot of different dance moves. There’s umm…a lot of hip thrusting…in Latin dances, is what I mean.” Fucking hell, Kat. Shut up. 

The longer I rambled, the bigger his smile got. I could feel the heat creeping up my neck and into my cheeks. “I’m just gonna stop there. That came out so wrong.”  

Dieter laughed, “It’s kind of cute when you're flustered.” 

I put my hands on my hips and blew a strand of hair out of my face, “Just…shut up.” He snorted, shaking his head at me as I moved to stand in the center of the room. “Alright, let’s focus and get this figured out.” 

He made his way over to me, still trying to hold in his chuckles while I ignored him and moved to stand in position. I tilted my head and arched my brows. I now had my serious face on, needing to move past that minor embarrassment. “Let’s go through what we have so far. Ok?”   

From that point on, the both of us were all business. Dieter was laser focused and I found that we collaborated well together. As the minutes ticked on, he seemed to be more comfortable expressing his thoughts about the routine, however, I could tell he was still holding back when it came to physical closeness. He would hesitate anytime he had to touch anywhere outside of my arms or waist.  

“Dieter, I really need for you to get over this physical contact phobia, ok? I’m telling you now, it’s ok to touch me while we’re dancing.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a controlled breath, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I’m just trying to be respectful, and this kind of goes against all that.” 

I placed both of my hands on his cheeks and squished them together causing his plump lips to pucker slightly. His eyes popped open and focused on me in shock, “I promise, I’ll give you a warning before I throat punch you if I feel like you're being inappropriate…k.”  

I patted the side of his face with my right hand, then pulled away. His eyes rounded as he stared at me, unblinking, “Is that supposed to be comforting? Because it isn’t.” 

A small chuckle bubbled out as I took in his expression. His puppy eyes were in full effect. I both hated and loved when he looked at me like that. It made me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling. 

I smirked, “I’m joking, I won’t throat punch you, but I will smack you if I think it’s necessary.” 

His brow furrowed as he shook his head, snorting out a small laugh, “Oh… okay. That’s sooo much better.” 

Rolling my eyes at him, I moved to our starting position. 

“Alright, stop your whining. Let’s take it from the top with what we have so far.” 

Dieter nodded and stepped closer, setting his frame, and taking hold of me. He was still too far away. I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes on him, sighing as I stepped even closer to his front so that we were in a proper closed position. He gave me a tight smile before looking off to the left. I began counting our steps as we moved around the room in perfect synchronization until Dieter’s timing faltered. We kept going, but I could feel his posture changing. I glanced over at him and realized his jaw was tense. 

“Is something wrong?” I asked without stopping. 

He kept going, not looking in my direction as he said, “It appears we have an audience.” 

During a reverse turn, I glanced toward the hallway windows - instantly finding the cause of his disturbance. Alec was watching us. His piercing gaze made me feel uneasy. What is his fucking problem? 

“Just keep going and ignore him. You’re not doing anything wrong…box turn, then promenade.” 

Dieter inhaled deeply following through on those instructions before moving to lead me into an inside turn. As we reached the end of the choreography that we had so far, I glanced toward the windows. Alec was gone. 

My eyes met Dieter’s, “Let’s take a water break.”

He nodded before pulling the hem of his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. I couldn’t help the way my eyes raked over his exposed skin. I had to force myself to turn away from him as I drank from my water bottle. 

“Alec doesn’t like me, does he?” Dieter asked from behind me before taking a drink of his own water.

I casually turned to him, “He’s concerned about your womanizing ways. I guess he’s worried you're gonna steal me away from him or something.”  

Dieter smirked, “I mean, I would never do anything you didn’t want me to…”

My brows arched in surprise at his words. I absolutely can’t handle him saying shit like that to me. I could already feel the effects of his words and that devilish smirk pulsing between my thighs. 

Dieter was quick to add, “That did not come out the way I meant it…” He shook his head and laughed nervously as he raked his hair back out of his face, “I just mean…I respect you too much to do anything like that. Your friendship is important to me. I don’t wanna ruin it by being a dick…and I’m not that guy anymore. Besides, he should trust you. You’ve been nothing but professional.” 

Friendship...I actually kind of hate that word. A crease formed between my brows as I looked down at the floor, “Yeah, well…you can’t tell him that apparently. Just don’t pay any attention to him. He’s being ridiculous over nothing. I’ll tell him to knock it off.” 

“Hey.” He was standing directly in front of me now as I looked up to meet his gaze. His obsidian eyes were burning into mine, nearly taking my breath away. “If I’m doing something to make things harder on you, please tell me. I can tell this is causing tension between you two.”  

I gave him a weak smile, “The fact that you even exist is enough to bother him. You’re not doing anything, so don’t stress about it.” 

His lips were set in a tight line as he studied my face, taking in my words. He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded and dropped the subject. We continued with building our routine for the next hour. Then our studio time was up for the day. 

By the time Friday rolled around, we pretty much had our routine planned out. It was a ‘behind the scenes’ filming day, so we had to put up with the camera crew being in our space as we ran through the full routine to the music for the first time. We also had to periodically stop to film their interview questions. The questions were beyond frustrating - mostly focusing on our chemistry and how well we worked together. It was clear they were trying to drive a certain narrative and were not getting what they wanted from us. I could tell Dieter had picked up on it too based on the looks he was shooting my way. It felt like such a waste of our time. Once we got rid of the film crew, we managed to complete a few run-throughs with the music without error. We were both feeling pretty good about it. However, Dieter admitted that his nerves were starting to flare up as we got closer to show day. He looked vulnerable at that moment, and I just wanted to pull him into a hug. Instead, I settled for a quick squeeze of the hand and told him everything would be ok because we would get through it together. That seemed to calm him some. 

Dieter’s POV This week had gone by in a blur. I attributed it to enjoying the time that I was spending with Kat. She and I were working so well together. I couldn’t recall ever having such a positive or productive experience with someone in a work setting. We were both clearly more comfortable around each other now. She was quick witted with her banter and often kept me on my toes with her jokes. I loved that we had a similar sense of humor. During the more serious moments, we worked together with such intense focus that it was almost like we shared a single brain - often on the same wavelength and anticipating what the other was saying before they said it. She was very receptive to any suggestions I had and often praised me for my involvement with crafting the routine, which only made me want to do more. There was nothing more satisfying than seeing her face light up when she liked one of my suggestions.   

As the week progressed and the dancing got more intense, Kat was going heavy on stretches to start the day. While it was torture, the partner stretches were quickly becoming one of my favorite things to do. I made sure to bust out the dramatics just to make her laugh. God, I loved hearing her laugh. I also didn’t mind the close proximity that some of the stretches put us in. When she made the comment about me having “loose hips” being good for a lot of things I was a little stunned. Her descent into embarrassment afterward was so fucking adorable. It was hard not to wonder if she had thought about me like that. Was it a Freudian slip? This was a thought that kept creeping in when I would least expect it and caused me to think all sorts of inappropriate things. Especially when she would give me that look that was somewhere between teasing and flirting that made my dick twitch. The logical part of my brain kept reminding me of that big shiny rock on her finger. The wishful side hoped that she did indeed feel something for me. 

The feelings that I was having were very complicated and I wasn’t sure how to navigate them. Alec was adding a whole other layer to things with his possessiveness over Kat. The guy honestly worried me a little bit, so I was determined to be on my best behavior when it came to her no matter what my emotions said. I didn’t want to give him any reason to do something stupid, because my gut told me he was that type that would.   

Sunday was our last rehearsal for the week in the dance studio. We spent our hours fine tuning things with the music the best we could without hearing the live band’s version of the song. Kat warned me that we may have to make last minute adjustments during the dress rehearsal, which was stressing me out a little. It just gave more room for me to fuck something up once we got the live show. Kat seemed surprisingly calm about the whole thing. Then again, she had been doing this for years. Her confidence in me did help alleviate some of the anxiety I was starting to feel, but not all of it.

After rehearsals, we made our way to Television City Studios. It was spray tan day for the entire cast. This was one of the things that I was not looking forward to. Upon arrival, I made my way to my dressing room to get undressed down to my boxer briefs and threw on the robe that was provided. I followed the robe clad group toward a big open room where everyone waited their turn. I quickly found Kat scrolling through her phone in the far corner, away from the crowd. I went to wait with her since I hadn’t really met any of the other cast members yet. We stood chatting as Alec and Lana slowly walked down the hallway; eyes fixed on each other as they shared a smile. Lana reached out to hook her arm with his, but once he noticed Kat, he pulled away from her and walked toward us. Yeah asshole, I see you.  

Alec was quick to wrap himself around Kat, putting his body between us as he did so. Alright man, I get it. You think you own her. He attempted to make small talk but was coming off as an arrogant asshole as he bragged about how great of a dance teacher he was. Kat honestly looked embarrassed by him. As I stood listening, a production assistant walked by. I took the opportunity to interrupt Alec to ask the PA what sort of spray tan they were using. The PA gave me a look of annoyance, “What does it matter?” she asked with a rude tone. Damn, who pissed in your cheerios this morning. 

“It matters because I don’t want a bunch of chemicals sprayed on me. That shit can cause a disruption in cellular metabolic processes…it can be carcinogenic. Is it all natural?” I had a slight irritation to my tone.

Her brow furrowed, “You’re worried about a spray tan when you used to do coke, LSD, and who knows what else? Is this a joke?” My eyes widened at her response. Ok. That’s probably a fair question. 

I sensed Kat was about to say something, but Alec stopped her. I gave the PA a sarcastic smile, “Well, I’ve gotta live a clean life now to make up for all that damage I did. Humor me, please.”

The PA rolled her eyes, “Yes, we use an all-natural certified organic spray tan solution. So, you're safe from the carcinogens.” She said that last bit with a snippy tone. I should be used to being talked to like this by now, but it still pissed me off. 

“Thank you, that’s all you had to say.”  

I heard Alec laugh as he turned his back toward me to talk to Kat, effectively dismissing me from the conversation. I could tell Kat wanted to say something to me, but he was blocking her from doing so as he asked her if she was free tonight. 

Another PA with a clipboard approached me at that point to let me know it was my turn. I gave Kat a tight smile as I was led into the large room that was set up with individual pop-up privacy tents for cast members to step into to remove their robes and get sprayed. 

Once I was finished, I went directly to my dressing room. My good mood had been soured by the PA’s comment and Alec being a jackass. I sat down in the chair in front of the vanity wondering what Alec and Kat’s relationship was actually like on a good day. I didn’t get good vibes from the guy. I really hoped that he treated her ok. She deserved that.   

I was drawn from my thoughts by a knock on the door, “Come in.” 

Kat came through the door, looking behind her as she entered. I assumed to check if anyone was around to see her enter my dressing room. When she finally turned to face me, she paused, taking in my state of undress with wide eyes. I was still wearing the robe and boxer briefs. I now realized the robe was no longer closed, “Oh shit…sorry,” I mumbled as I stood from the chair and tied it shut. I didn’t care if she saw me like this, I was used to it, but I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. 

She let out a breathy laugh, “No, you're fine. I just wasn’t expecting…that.” 

I chuckled, “Sorry, I’m used to being in various stages of undress on set…I don’t even think about it anymore. I’ll try to keep my clothes on around you.” 

Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip to hold back a smile as she continued to stare at me for a beat, eventually clearing her throat to speak, “Umm…I-I just wanted to come check on you. That PA was kind of an asshole.”  

I waved my hand, “Don’t even worry about it. I’m not.” I’m more bothered by Alec. 

She nodded, “Ok, good…yeah, don’t let that get to you. It’s not worth it.” She shifted her weight and stuck her hands in her back pockets, “How are you feeling about tomorrow?” 

Moving to lean against the vanity, I huffed out a small laugh and scratched at the back of my neck as I stared at the ugly gray stained carpet, “Honestly, I’m nervous as fuck…but…I know you won’t let me mess up too badly.”  You make everything ok. 

My eyes flicked up to meet hers. We stared at each other in silence for a moment. I felt like there was a weird electricity in the air between us. I really wanted to reach out and touch her, to hug her, but I knew that wasn’t a good idea. 

Her lips finally broke into a small smile, “Don’t worry Bravo, I’ve got you. I think you’ll do just fine. You’re better than you think.” 

She turned on her heel to move toward the door, “Well, I’m gonna head home…try and relax and get some rest. We have an early start and it’s gonna be a long day.” 

“You mean you’re not going out with Alec?” I blurted out the question without thinking, like it was any of my damn business what they were doing.  

Kat shook her head, “No, he wanted to go out with some other castmates. I’m not about that kind of lifestyle these days. I have to rest…and he knows that.” 

It made me happier than it should have to know she wouldn’t be spending the evening with Alec. I knew that I shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts, they were engaged for fucks sake. They were going to spend time together whether I wanted them to or not. I really needed to get my thoughts under control before this became an issue. 

I pursed my lips, nodding as I forced a smile, “I’ll see you in the morning then. Have a good evening.”

She seemed reluctant as she nodded and reached for the doorknob, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

A short time after I got home, I couldn’t stop thinking about how Kat had gone out of her way to come check on me. Most people wouldn’t bother to do that these days, not that I blamed them. I didn’t deserve anyone’s concern after the way I treated people when I was deep in my addiction. I had to make sure I didn’t fuck this up with her. I sank down into the sofa as I unlocked my phone and pulled up Kat’s number. I started typing a text message and hit send before I could second guess myself. 

Dieter: Thank you for checking in with me. I should have said that earlier. I appreciate it more than you know. I don’t have a lot of people in my life that would do that right now.

I watched as the message status changed to ‘read’. The bubbles started bouncing, telling me that she was typing something, then stopped. That happened a few more times before her response came through. 

Kat: You don’t have to thank me for that. I’ll always check in with you. That’s what friends are for.  

Seeing the word “friend” was sort of a punch in the gut, but I needed that. It helped get my head back where it should be. However, that word also meant that she viewed me as more than just a castmate, which was somewhat comforting. At least I could have a friendship with her. It was more than I had with anyone else at the moment. I decided to push all those thoughts aside and head to bed early before I lost my focus.

My alarm went off at 6 AM the following morning. After a quick shower, I threw on some gym clothes and headed to the local coffee shop. I wasn’t about to try and sustain myself with whatever it was that Craft Services was handing out. I picked up a cup for Kat too, since I now knew how she liked it. I pulled into Television City Studios parking with minutes to spare before we had to be in the ballroom to meet with the band, lighting team, and the cinematographer. We had to make sure the music was right, discuss the lighting scheme, and determine camera blocking for our performance.

As I walked in, I spotted Kat already chatting with the music director and walked over to greet her, handing her coffee over as I stood at her side. They were discussing the tempo of our song to make sure the band hit the mark with it since it had so many variations. As Kat talked, she looped her hand through my arm and gave it a squeeze. I assumed she could sense my anxiety and it did help alleviate it some. As we went through the details, I noticed other cast members starting to file in and sit around the dance floor.  

Once Kat was done going over everything with the band and lighting, Alec came over to offer her some coffee. She gave him a tight smile as she held up her cup, “I’m good, but thanks.” 

His brow furrowed, “Alright, maybe Lana will want it then.” What a fucking dick. 

I felt like he was purposely trying to throw her off her game with that comment. She watched him with narrowed eyes as he walked off toward a small crowd of cast members. I could see her jaw muscles flex before her eyes met mine, “Alright, we’re gonna do a quick run through with the band. There are 18 cameras, so they’ll work on adjusting those as we go through it. If we need to make changes, they’ll let us know. We’ll come back later for the dress rehearsal and run through it a few more times with everything in place.” 

I took a deep breath and nodded. She leaned in to meet my gaze with a small smile, “Hey, we’ve got this. Don’t worry.” 

She reached down and grabbed my hand, pulling me over to our starting mark. As the band began playing, I was already thrown off by how different the music sounded from the track that was provided to us. I think Kat could sense it as she quietly called out some verbal cues at the start. Once we got going, I was on track and made it through the routine with only a few small errors. 

Luckily, there were no last-minute suggested changes to the routine. I’m not sure if I would have retained it if there had been. We had another quick discussion with the producers about the lighting before they cleared us for hair and makeup.  

I suddenly felt like all eyes were on us as we exited the ballroom. It was a little unnerving. Kat leaned in, “Ignore them, they’re just sizing up their competition. There are pros and cons to going first.” 

I chuckled nervously, “And what exactly is a pro for going first?” 

“We don’t have to deal with a frustrated production team. Trust me, they turn into assholes real fast dealing with this bunch.” 

I laughed, “Yeah, that makes sense. How do they decide the order?” 

She smiled, “Well, I got here first this morning…”

I nodded, “So that should be our goal then? Get here first. Got it.” 

The rest of the morning was a blur. Kat and I spent hours in hair and makeup getting poked and prodded at. Luckily this time, we were seated next to each other so we could at least chat through it - mostly focusing on our routine. Once that was finally finished, we headed back to our individual dressing rooms where our costumes were waiting for us. After getting changed, we met back up outside the ballroom to go in for dress rehearsals. Kat looked amazing of course, but I did prefer her more natural look. They had slathered so much makeup and hair gel on the both of us we looked like completely different people. She joked that it was going to take multiple washings to get all the gel out of our hair. I was already not looking forward to going through that process. 

As we walked toward the dance floor for our first run through in costume, I couldn’t help but notice the amount of exposed skin Kat’s gown was showing. I realized for the first time that my hands would be on her bare skin while we were dancing. It was both thrilling and anxiety inducing. I had to quickly shove that thought aside because it threatened to completely derail my focus.

We went through our routine several more times. By the last run through with the music, cameras, and lighting in place, I was feeling more confident about everything. Kat took a minute to give me a small pep talk before she had to run off to change costumes for the group rehearsal. I had to give her credit; she had been very patient with me. She made sure to take time to explain each step of the process to help ease my anxiety. She had been very positive and encouraging as we worked through it all.  

I sat and watched the group rehearsal while I waited for my final fitting time slot with the wardrobe department. The performance was some sort of Latin style dance. Kat did amazingly well. I couldn’t take my eyes off her rhythmic hip movements as she whirled around the floor in time to the beat. I had to chastise myself for looking at her in that way, but it was hard not to. She was electric and commanded the attention of the room above everyone else. 

Stacia stood nearby, watching the performance, just as she had been for all of them so far. However, I was now noticing her occasional glances in my direction. As she was moving toward the other end of the dance floor, she stopped in front of me, “Kat is on fire today. I’m not sure I’ve seen her do this well in a while. I take it that things are going well with the two of you?”

I felt the crease form between my brows as confusion etched my face. What is she actually asking me? “Yeah, I mean…we work well together. She’s a good teacher.”

Stacia narrowed her eyes slightly at my response, then smirked, “Right, you’ve said that.” Fuck. Did I just tip her off on something? I felt like she could see through me as she turned and walked away. Surely, she didn’t think something was going on between Kat and me? I sighed and turned my attention back to the group performance, hoping I didn’t just have a serious fuck up.     

As I watched the third run through for the group, I realized something. Kat had been partnered to dance with Alec, which wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was the vibe between the two of them. It seemed different from the videos that I had watched of their competitions. Her face was expressionless. There was no longer a fiery look behind her eyes as they moved together - almost like there was no connection between them. Maybe she was just focused on getting the choreography correct. They hadn’t practiced the group routine that much after all. That had to be it, right? I couldn’t allow myself to think that it was any other reason. 

After their last run through, Kat walked off the dancefloor, directly over to me to get her water bottle. After taking a long drink, she turned to me, “We need to get to wardrobe for our final fittings. They’ll have our heads if we’re late.”   

I followed behind Kat toward the wardrobe department. She had to pop into her dressing room to grab her other costume on the way. They took us to the back as soon as we walked in. The tailor that we had worked with before, Amy, gave Kat a once over. They both seemed satisfied with her first costume, so Kat went to the changing room to switch to the black gown she would be wearing for our performance. While Kat was changing, Amy turned her attention to me, “Well, your buttons don’t seem to be hanging on for dear life this time, so I think we should be good. Do the pants feel ok? Not too tight?” 

I shook my head, “No everything feels like it fits perfectly. Thank you for making the size adjustments.” Amy seemed proud of herself as she gave me one last look over. Kat returned in her gown minutes later.

“Does everything feel ok on this one Kat?” Amy asked as she stood back to look over the fit of the gown.  

“Yeah, it fits like a glove. Perfect as always. I do have a request though…would it be possible to get a lower heel for both costumes?”

Amy’s brow furrowed, “You know production won’t be happy if you have different shoes for the group performance. Do you not wanna wear regulation heel height?”

Kat sighed, “Fine, I’ll keep the ones for group, but I would like lower ones to go with the gown. If we can try to keep them lower for the rest of the season as much as possible that would be great.”

Amy gave her a sympathetic look, “Are you having foot pain already?”

Kat huffed out a laugh, “No... not yet, but I’m trying really hard to avoid it as much as I can.” 

Amy nodded before disappearing to the back. 

I knew Kat could see the confusion on my face when she glanced up at my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t understand what they were talking about. “Everything ok?”  

She gave me a tight smile, “Did you know that for every inch added to heels, the weight on the pad of your foot increases by 25%. Regulation heel height for ballroom is two and a half inches…for Latin it's three. Heels change your gait and the way you move. I have arthritis in my feet, knees, and hips. The heels and Latin dances really do a number on me because I’m too fucking old to be doing this. So, I’m trying to be proactive before it gets too bad to dance.”   

Suddenly everything made sense. My mouth fell open in shock. Fuck. I had no idea. “That’s why this is your last season?” 

She nodded, “Yep. I’m retiring from competitive dancing.” 

I could tell this wasn’t an easy decision. I could see how much she loved dancing. My heart was aching for her. That would be like me giving up acting. Just the thought of doing that freaked me the fuck out. 

I gave her a devilish smile, “Well, that settles it then. We’re gonna win this fucking competition. You’re going out on top.”

She laughed, grabbing my hand to pull me in for a quick side hug, “Thank you…for trusting me to be your partner.” 

I pulled her in closer for a tight hug, realizing she had multiple meanings behind her words. I could feel my chest tighten as I worked to steady my emotions. It seemed that both of us had demons to battle. As we pulled away, Amy appeared from the back with a different pair of shoes for Kat, “Best I can do is a one and a half inch. We don’t have a lot of lower heels on hand.” 

Kat took the shoes from her, “That’s perfect, I’ll take them. Thank you.”  

After we finished with Amy, we stopped in hair and makeup for quick touch ups. While we were getting touched up, I could tell Kat was starting to get nervous, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly as she looked up at the clock on the wall.

I glanced her way, “You good?” 

She chuckled, “Yeah, I always get a little pre-show jitters. It’ll pass. It’s 3:40…They’ll be bringing the audience in now. It’s almost time.” 

I pursed my lips then laughed, “You can’t be nervous. It’s gonna make me nervous.” 

She reached her hand across the space between the chairs, I grabbed it in mine so she could give it a comforting squeeze as she looked at me intently, speaking in a low voice, “You have no reason to be nervous. You’ve got this. After seeing some of the rehearsals, I honestly think you're one of the best on the cast this season. At least in the top three.”

I rolled my eyes and chuckled, “Yeah, whatever. You’re just lubing me up.”

She gave me a toothy grin and laughed, “No, I’m serious.” 

Alec and Lana’s reflection caught my attention in the mirror as they walked into the room. I dropped Kat’s hand and gave her a small smile. Alec approached us from behind, walking around Kat’s chair to lean down and give her a quick kiss, “You look beautiful, baby. Good luck out there. Your dress rehearsal looked great.”

Kat’s brows arched as she chewed on the inside of her cheek, “Thank you. You too.” She gave him a small smile, but it looked forced. Alec moved to sit at the empty station beside Lana, but I could tell he was watching us through the mirror. Kat didn’t say much after that, not until we were finished and walking toward the dressing rooms so she could change back into her group performance costume. 

I waited for her in the hallway - going through the routine in my head as I stood there. It was only a few minutes before Kat joined me with her phone and wired earbuds in hand. As she walked over to me, I noticed she was looking down the hallway with an annoyed expression, I laughed quietly, “What’s wrong?”  

“Anika is looking at you like you’re a fresh piece of meat.” 

“Oh?” I turned in the direction Kat had been looking. Sure enough, there was a short blonde giving me a flirty smile. I gave her something between a grimace and smile back as I turned toward Kat, “Yeah, sorry about her luck. That’s not happening.” 

Kat laughed, “Why? Not your type?”

I shook my head, “No, not anymore. I don’t date party girls. Actually, I’m taking a hiatus from dating at the moment. They recommended that in rehab. At least until I’m sure I have my shit together.”  

Kat arched a brow in my direction, “So you haven’t…dated…anyone since you went to rehab…eight months ago?

I scratched at the back of my neck nervously, “Since before that. It’s been like eleven months since I hooked up with anyone.” 

She was now raising both eyebrows at me, “Hooked up?” 

I grimaced, “Yeah, I didn’t really do the whole relationship thing before. I was kind of a mess and an asshole.”

She chuckled, “I’m sure you broke a lot of hearts.”

I sucked air in through my teeth, “Ehhh…Doubtful. Most of them were just as fucked up as me. They were usually trying to get something outta me…money, fame…the list goes on. It’s part of the reason I have a hard time trusting people.”  

Kat was giving me an intense look now. It was that look that made my stomach do flips and my heart race in my ears. I could feel the electricity crackling between us again. 

“But you trust me?” More than anyone. 

I waited a beat to answer as my eyes roamed over her face, “Yeah...I do.” 

Joe and Stacia chose that moment to walk by, yelling out a 20-minute warning to start time. Stacia gave us a wide smile as they continued past us. I looked back at Kat, now realizing how closely we were standing. I backed away slightly as we gave each other an awkward smile. 

“We should probably head to the staging area.” I nodded and followed closely behind her. 

Before I knew it, the show was starting. I stood in the staging area, watching the group performance. Kat of course did the routine to perfection. Once they were finished, she had to run off to change. Luckily our performance was toward the end of the show, so she didn’t have to rush. I sat watching the show until she reappeared at my side, smiling and breathless. I gave her a lopsided grin, “You did amazing.” Her cheeks flushed at the compliment before she murmured a quiet “Thank you.” 

She busied herself with untangling her corded earbuds. As I watched her, I had to appreciate that she didn’t use the wireless kind. Once she had them untangled, she handed one of them to me. I gave her a confused look, “I like to listen to music to get hyped up before performances. It helps with the nerves.” I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. This was something I often did while filming to get into character. 

I stuck the bud in my ear just as the familiar opening beats of Lose Yourself started playing. I glanced up at her, “Eminem…really?”   

She gave me a toothy grin, nodding before she started bobbing her head to the music. I laughed, following her lead. She grabbed my hands, shaking my arms and forcing me to move in time with her to the beat as she started quietly mouthing the words. If her goal was to distract me, it was working. By the time the song ended, it was nearly our turn. We stood bouncing on our feet to keep the energy going until it was time for us to walk out onto the dance floor and take our places. 

I could hear the blood pulsing in my ears as we waited for the music to start - both of us breathing heavily in anticipation. The electricity between Kat and I only seemed amplified by the audience's excitement as we walked down the small set of steps to the opening notes, arm in arm. The moment I took her hand for the inside turn, something just clicked between us as we moved in perfect synchronization across the dance floor. Our connection felt differently than it had during rehearsals. The heat of her bare skin caused my fingertips to tingle as they slid down her back and sides. I could sense that Kat felt it too because her eyes were blazing from the energy passing between us. It was almost like we were moving as one. I found the intensity of the moment was strangely intoxicating.

I was in a daze as the performance came to an end. Kat quickly pulled me in for a hug as she jumped up and down while the crowd applauded loudly around us. The performance went by so quickly I didn’t even have time to think. It was more muscle memory than anything. All I could do was let out the breath I had been holding and smile down at her as we walked over to speak with the judges. 

The judges mostly gave compliments, noting that we had pulled off the elegance of the dance, making it seem effortless and magnetizing. One of them even commented on the electricity and connection between us. I guess I wasn’t the only one that felt it. The feedback they gave was that I needed to make sure I was holding my frame all the way through the performance. That didn’t surprise me as Kat was constantly calling me out me on it. Holding the frame absolutely wore my back out, so it was a struggle.

After getting the judges feedback, we moved over to the interview area to answer a few questions about our performance while we waited for the scores to be chosen and verified. Kat grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly as I rambled on about the challenges I had during rehearsal. As I finished answering the question, the host went back to the judges for scoring. They gave us three 8’s and one 7. It was the highest anyone had scored so far. I was in shock as Kat pulled me in for another hug.  

Once we were back in the staging area, I burst out laughing. I couldn’t believe it. Once I finally got it together, I glanced at Kat who was smiling at me. Her eyes were still bright with emotion as I grabbed her, pulling her in for another tight hug, “I cannot believe we just did that…you were so fucking amazing.”

She pulled away, still smiling, “You were too. I told you, you’re good at this. If we keep that up, I think we have a real chance of making it to finals.”    

I nodded, suddenly feeling much more confident about this whole thing. 

We stayed around to see how the last few performances went, letting the adrenaline burn off as we critiqued the competition. There were only two other couples who had scores near ours. Anika and her partner were a few points below us. Alec and Lana were tied with us. I could feel Kat tensing beside me as the judges read off Alec and Lana’s scores. I knew she had to be considering how those two being our biggest competition could affect things going forward. It would undoubtedly create even more tension between her and Alec. There was also the narrative of the show to consider. Kat and I both knew the executive producers would somehow use this to their advantage.  

Next: Week 3

A/N: Whew, we have soooooo much to unpack for this chapter. We had lots of bonding and some mild flirting with Dieter & Kat. You know I want to hear all your thoughts and thots about these two.

We had more shenanigans from Stacia and Joe. What do you think they are up to? Now we have Anika throwing some attention Dieter’s way. Then there is the Alec & Lana nonsense going on…and just Alec’s nonsense in general.

Also…Dieter is totally not being honest with his therapist AND he has a fucking cat now. 🤭

Of course they nailed their first performance. They are going to be a force to be reckoned with. Speaking of their performance, I’ve been watching A LOT of DWTS episodes and videos as I write this fic. So, for each week I’m going to share one or two videos that inspired Dieter & Kat’s performance for the chapter. This chapter’s inspiration is linked below. The first video is more of what I envisioned for their first dance. The second is a sexier foxtrot that would have had Dieter’s head spinning, but he’s totally down for it. Don’t worry, they will get there eventually.

✨More good stuff below the videos.✨

👉In case you missed it, head on over HERE to check out this amazing video that @survivingandenduring was kind enough to put together for Closed Position. It's hot and has all the Dieter & Kat ✨vibes✨. I’m still screaming over it!

👉I have started working on a playlist for Closed Position. I will be adding to it as inspiration strikes. I plan to add the songs used for Dieter & Kat's performances as we go along too.

Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @morallyinept @survivingandenduring  @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions @myloveistoolittle @for-a-longlongtime  @copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter @burntheedges @stevie75 @bunniboo0015 @quicax3 @jackie923 @sherala007 @pastelnap @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @jessthebaker @rebel-held @gwendibleywrites @pedrostories

*If your name is marked out, it wouldn’t let me tag you. ☹️

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments or shoot me a DM.

Credits: Support/MDNI Dividers: @cafekitsune Disco Divider: @deadbranch

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #dancing dieter #soft dieter #cat dad dieter

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

YAAAAY! I'm excited for you to start it, bestie! I hope you love this Dieter. He's an adorable mess. 💜💜💜

Closed Position Prologue

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo x OFC

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

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

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

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

Prologue below the cut.

In ballroom dance, the closed position is one of the most common in which partners face each other, typically offset, in an embrace that may vary slightly for each style of dance being performed. This position enables partners to provide the necessary physical contact and support to lead and follow. Increased body contact is encouraged because it allows for a deepened connection and furthers the use of touch to communicate. Another way for partners to establish a deepened connection is eye contact. Eye contact allows each of the dancers to anticipate and synchronize with the other’s movements. The stronger the eye contact and non-verbal communication, the more effortless and intense the performance will appear to be.

Because of the physical closeness and emotionally charged environment, ballroom dance can be an oddly intimate experience that requires a high level of trust between partners. It’s easy to understand why it’s heavily romanticized. For some, it’s not unusual that it may lead to feelings that extend beyond the dance floor.

In my line of work on a nationally televised tv show, I’m placed with a new partner every season. None of which I’ve ever actually achieved a real connection with (on or off the dance floor). It’s always very formal and instructional. Strictly a student learning from their teacher type of experience. The student (or celebrity in this case) is there for the purpose of winning the dance competition and any notoriety that comes with it. I’m there to teach them how to reach their goal and nothing more. I was, after all, in a sometimes-happy long-term relationship that I was not looking to jeopardize.

Everything changed the day Dieter Bravo waltzed into the dance studio. He was looking to repair his image and boost his career after a rumored long stint in rehab while I was simply trying to make it through my last season on the show. We were reluctant partners at first. I was aware of his bad boy reputation and didn’t want my professional image to be tarnished by his antics. He could sense my reluctance, which fueled the initial hostility between us. The hostility soon faded during our sessions as the electricity ignited. The attraction could only be ignored for so long. No one could have predicted the way our stars would eventually collide and be bound to each other’s orbit.

Next: Week 1

I included everyone who interacted with the initial teaser. Please let me know if you would like to be removed going forward.

Tag List: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @linzels-blog @morallyinept @survivingandenduring @undercoverpena @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose

Let me know in the comments below if you would like to be added to the tag list.

Credits: Star divider courtesy of @saradika. Support divider courtesy of @cafekitsune

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #dancing dieter #soft dieter #dieter bravo x oc

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Considering I just wrote what amounts to mutual masturbation between Dieter and Kat in Closed Position, I would say I definitely agree that Dieter is all for some self-care. He really loves devouring his KitKats too…and he tells her that. 🤦🏻‍♀️😂

Yes, I am in fact 4k words into smut. Don’t judge me. It’s their first time. 😂

the self care industry will sell you face masks and teas and whatnot so i'm here to remind you not to forget the most important self care activity which is masturbation

#dieter bravo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #dieter supports touching him and yourself #we are a bunch of whores #and it’s ok #it’s only monday

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Spot the Difference…

Lazy Trash Panda Edition

These are the same picture. 🦝

Want to see more?

#sweet trash panda #dieter bravo #dieter bravo coded #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #the bubble #same picture

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Closed Position: Week 1 (Introductions)

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

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

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

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

Chapter Word Count: 7.1K

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

Week 1 Quote: "Fuck. I might be in trouble."

Dieter’s POV

“Lenny, have you seen this fucking schedule? It’s seven days a week for twelve weeks. When do I get a break?” 

Lenny, my agent, sighed through the speaker phone, “D, I told you this was going to be a lot of work before you agreed to do it. You shouldn’t be surprised…and besides, that’s only if you make it to the finals.”

I scoffed, “Thanks for the vote of confidence…asshole.” Lenny chuckled on the other end of the line. We both went quiet for a moment as I continued to flip through the packet of paper that Lenny had sent over for review, “I don’t even get to have any say on the wardrobe or music. Such bullshit…sucking all the fun out of it. Did you at least drop a bug in their ear about who I’ll be partnered with? If I get stuck with someone I don’t want, I’m gonna be fucking miserable.” 

“I did, but the producers said they always do the partner matching themselves. They have a formula…or something. Maybe bring it up again at this morning's meeting and explain why. They may listen to you on it.” 

I huffed as my eyes continued skimming over the weekly schedule, “I have to get a fucking spray tan every week? You have GOT to be kidding me…Lenny, you know I don’t like using carcinogenic chemicals on my body.” 

“Uhhh, no comment on that…Look, I’ll put in a call and see if they can use something natural for that.” 

I relaxed some, “I would appreciate that. Thank you. Tell them I have an allergy or something…just make it happen.” 

I tossed the packet onto the table and picked up my phone, taking it off speaker and putting it to my ear - now pacing as I spoke, “Well, it looks like I’m gonna be pretty busy for a bit. That’ll be a nice distraction. It beats being locked inside the house at least.”  

Lenny hesitated, but still asked, “How are you doing with everything? Still managing ok?” 

I sighed, “Yeah, I mean I’m going to therapy and all the meetings still. I’ve been doing ok…just trying to keep the stress levels down. That’s what gets to me the most.” 

“How long has it been?”

I looked at the date on my watch, “Eight months today…actually. It’s the longest I’ve ever been clean, and I plan to stick to it this time. I’m feeling good and I want to keep it that way.” 

“Everyone is really proud of you, D. You know that, right? Keep at it and we'll have you back on top in no time.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, knowing that it was an uphill battle, “I appreciate that, but good luck getting people to change their opinion of me. I’m not sure if my reputation is salvageable at this point. Everyone seems to think my sobriety is some sort of joke. No one is taking it seriously.”

I could hear Lenny inhale deeply on the other end of the phone, “It’s just going to take time, D. Don’t give up yet.” 

I pursed my lips in thought, “Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I need to get ready for this meeting. We’ll talk later, yeah?”

“Yeah, definitely let me know how it goes.”  

Once I hung up the phone with Lenny, I took a quick shower, then spent longer than I should have staring at the clothes hanging in my closet - trying to pick something that says I have my shit together. My therapist kept reminding me that if I dressed like a slob, people were going to treat me like one. So, I was putting more effort into making myself presentable before I left the house these days. Since it was a work meeting, I went for a business casual look, figuring I couldn’t go wrong with that. After styling my hair and getting dressed, I grabbed my keys, phone, wallet, and sunglasses and headed out the front door.

As I approached my car, which was parked in the driveway, I noticed there was a dead bird on the hood. The fluffy gray, brown, and white stray cat that had been hanging around my house was sitting next to it, looking rather proud of himself. I sighed, “Come on dude, really?” And this is why I need to get the garage cleaned out. I hit the clicker to open the garage door so I could get a broom to knock the bird off the hood. As I waded through the mountain of empty boxes from my move six months ago, I cursed myself for taking my sweet time getting that stuff out of the house. Finally finding the broom, I quickly moved to get the dead bird off of the car and shooed the cat away. He didn’t look happy about it as he moved to sit on the pathway in front of the house, watching me until I was finally on my way to Television City Studios to meet with the producers of Dancing with the Stars. 

When I arrived at the studio, I was met by the two executive producers, Stacia and Joe and led into a conference room. I let them do their spiel about what’s expected and the schedule. Nodding along in all the right places, being as polite as possible even though I hated how little say I had over anything. Once they moved on to the topic of how they choose partners, I spoke up for the first time, “I would really like to have input on my partner.” They both moved to speak before I held up my hand to signal that I wasn’t finished talking. 

“Look, I know you all have your formula or whatever, but I have a legitimate reason for asking. As I’m sure you’re aware, I’ve been trying to clean up my image. I’ve been sober for eight months and I would really like to be placed with someone that doesn’t have a reputation for partying…someone who isn’t gonna be a negative influence on me. It’s actually really important to me because I’m actively avoiding being around anyone who is into that kind of lifestyle.” Which is why I spend most of my time alone.  

Stacia and Joe looked at each other, obviously surprised at my reasoning for the request. They were actually stunned into silence. Since neither of them said anything, I continued, “I had my team check into the dancers, and based on their recommendation…I’m requesting that Katarina Stamos be my partner. She has a good reputation and I’m also told she’s very professional and isn’t judgmental…because that’s been an issue here lately that I’d really like to not have to deal with.”

Stacia’s brow furrowed, “Are you looking to actually win? Because Kat hasn’t won a single season that she’s been with us.”

I narrowed my eyes on her. What an asshole thing to say about someone. “Well, maybe that’s because you keep giving her shitty partners.” 

I gave Stacia a sarcastic smile. She had the audacity to look offended by that statement. I had watched the show and seen the people Katarina was partnered with. It was always the older guys that could hardly move. Stacia’s attitude made me more determined to have Katarina as a partner just to prove a fucking point on her behalf. 

Joe interrupted the silent standoff that Stacia and I now seemed to be having, “Alright, let’s think about this…” He turned to Stacia, “Physically, they work together. Their height and proportions are a good match…and Kat is very patient. She would work well with him. Also, if he wishes to be with someone who isn’t into partying, Anika is not the person he needs to be with.”

Stacia looked frustrated and unwilling to give in as she glared at her counterpart. Joe smirked, “If you're worried about the change in narrative, it’s possible there may be other options we haven’t considered.” 

What the fuck does that mean? I leaned forward on my elbows, “What narrative?” 

They both turned to look at me, Stacia now had a sly smile on her face. It was Joe who answered, “We always consider the possible narratives that could come up between partners. How they’ll interact and get along personality wise. It’s an important factor for the show.”

I felt a crease form between my brows, “So basically, you try to manufacture drama for TV.”  

Joe shook his head, “Not exactly, I mean ultimately, yes. We just take personalities and such into account when we pair the dancers with their celebrities. I mean, we do want everyone to get along with their partner, obviously.”   

So, you’re fucking meddlers. Got it. I arched my brows, giving them a tight smile as I nodded, going along with what they were telling me. I now realized I would have to keep an eye on these two. I didn’t feel like they had my best interest in mind. Especially if they were initially planning to put me with the known party girl. 

I cleared my throat before speaking again, “So what does that mean…do I get to work with Katarina or not?” 

Stacia looked at me, now smiling, “I think that may actually be a good match now that I think about it. So yeah, we’ll let you work with Kat. Hopefully you’ll both make it through to finals.” 

What is this woman’s deal? Geez Louise. I eyed them both suspiciously for a moment, “Ok, good. Now I’m finally a little excited about this.”   

They went over a few more details about the schedule before taking me out to meet with a production assistant, who was tasked with giving me a tour of the building and showing me where my dressing room would be. This part of my day couldn’t end soon enough… 

Katarina’s POV

As I was pulling into the Television City Studios parking lot for the first day of my last season on Dancing with the Stars, my phone pinged with a text from Alec, my fiancée.

Alec: I finished up my meeting with production. Are you here? Have you had yours yet?

I leaned my head back against the seat. What the hell has he been doing? I know his meeting was over an hour ago.

Me: Just parked, I have mine in 10 minutes. I’m on my way in…Meet you in the lobby. 

A few minutes later, I found Alec in the lobby. He seemed more excited than he normally was on the first day as he greeted me with a quick kiss on the cheek. 

I leaned away from him, “What’s got you so smiley this morning?” I could tell he was trying to temper it down and have a more neutral expression on his face as he shrugged, “I didn’t realize I was. Guess I’m just excited to see you.” 

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. What are you hiding now you asshole. He didn’t know how well I could read him at this point. 

I arched a brow instead of returning his smile, “So, I assume you found out who your partner is gonna be?”

He continued his attempts at a neutral expression, “Yeah, Lana Thompson…she’s an actress, I think. There was apparently a last minute change to the lineup this morning. You know her?” 

I gave him a tight smile, “Yeah…I know her. She has a bit of a reputation…”  

He feigned ignorance, “Oh? I don’t know anything about her. I’m sure she’ll turn out to be one of those stuck up, bitchy types like the rest of ‘em. Ya know, you’re lucky it’s your last season so you don’t have to deal with these people anymore.” 

And there it is. He doth protest too much. He was excited to be paired with her, I could tell. He saw it as an opportunity. As far as I knew, he hadn’t strayed to another woman in some time, but that didn’t mean he had changed. He still hadn’t earned my trust back and his current excitement only made me more suspicious of his commitment. 

Alec could sense the tension taking hold of my body as he rubbed at my lower back, “Everything ok, baby?”

I gave him a half-hearted smile, “Yeah, just peachy. I’ve gotta go or I’m gonna be late. I’ll catch up with you after.” 

As I was walking down the hallway toward the conference room, I saw Lana Thompson exiting the bathroom. I suspected Alec had already met his partner and liked her more than he let on. Which probably explains why it took him as long as it did to text me. 

When I entered the conference room, Stacia and Joe sat huddled together. They seemed to be engrossed in whatever they were whispering about, but abruptly stopped talking once they realized I was lingering in the entryway. They both smiled, almost over enthusiastically as they welcomed me and motioned for me to have a seat. They studied me for a moment before Stacia finally spoke, “How are things going with you?” 

That’s an odd question and an odd tone. I wasn’t sure what kind of answer she was looking for, “It’s going good, why?” 

She gave me a small smile, “I know it’s your last season because you have things going on…but do you think you’re feeling up to the possibility of making it to finals?” 

I gave her a confused look, “What is that supposed to mean?” 

Joe leaned forward, “What Stacia is trying to say is…the person we have you partnered with this time is going to be a little more physically able than your usual partners. So, you may be in it for the full twelve weeks…if you can pull it off. Are you physically able to handle it?” 

Should I be offended by that? It’s not like I can’t function. It was just painful some days, especially when there were a lot of rehearsals. My joints couldn’t handle the Latin dances like they used to - the jerky movements exacerbating the inflammation and discomfort. That didn’t mean they had to treat me like a fragile porcelain doll though. 

I narrowed my eyes at them, “Of course I can handle it. I could handle it this entire time…which is why I’ve been asking for more capable partners.” 

Joe smiled, “Well, good. Maybe you can go out with a bang this season.” 

What the fuck was this about? I dug my teeth into my bottom lip as I tried to figure out their angle. There was always an angle with them, “Why do I feel like you’re trying to sell this to me?” 

Joe grimaced slightly. “We’re not trying to sell it, but we do worry you won’t be happy about it.” 

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back into the seat, “Who is it?” 

Stacia smirked, “It’s Dieter Bravo.”

I looked between the two of them, “You’re joking?” 

They shook their heads in unison. This didn’t make sense. Wouldn’t he be better suited with one of the girls that enjoyed a lifestyle similar to his? 

“What makes you think he and I will work well together? I know I have a lot of patience, but it does have its limits.” 

Joe chuckled, “His people requested you specifically. He’s actually eight months sober and they want him with someone who isn’t going to get him into trouble. He’s trying to clean up his image.” 

I scoffed, “I thought you didn’t let the celebrities have any say in who they’re partnered with?”

Joe leaned forward onto the table, “We don’t normally, but given his request and the reasons for it, we felt we should make an exception. We were thinking of putting him with you anyway.”

I shook my head, “You are aware of his reputation, right? Alec is gonna lose his shit over this.” 

Stacia smiled, “It’s not your or Alec’s choice. We run the show.”

It dawned on me then. Alec had said there was a last minute lineup change this morning and that’s why he was put with Lana. I had somehow managed to fly under the radar when it came to the producers' manufactured bullshit, but now I was right in the middle of it. They were making moves to create an underlying narrative for the show. 

“Who was he partnered with originally? I know it wasn’t me.” 

Stacia looked surprised by my question, “He was never partnered with anyone else before you.”

Stacia was lying. She couldn’t look at me directly when she answered my question - it was her tell. I knew how their minds worked. Dieter Bravo had a reputation for causing trouble and they were looking to exploit it. I’m sure his request caused a hiccup in their plans, so now they were making adjustments to cause drama surrounding him any way they could. 

My eyes shifted between the two of them, “I don’t know what your endgame is here, but I have no intention of playing, just so you know.”

Stacia and Joe sat expressionless, not giving anything away. I assumed they expected this sort of response from me. My tendency to push back at their plans was one of the reasons I wasn’t a favorite of theirs and most likely part of the reason they always worked to get me off the show as soon as possible, every season. Which sucked for my bank account. To add to their reasoning, I wasn’t interesting enough since I never had issues with my partners or whirlwind romances that made for good TV. However, this season they were taking a chance, throwing two bombs in the form of Lana and Dieter into my already tumultuous relationship with Alec. Hoping for an exciting outcome that would play out behind the scenes to stir up tabloid fodder and result in free promotion for the show.  

Joe sighed, finally speaking to break the tension in the room, “For what it’s worth, we met with Dieter earlier this morning…he was actually very pleasant and agreeable. I don’t think he’ll be an issue for you, so long as he continues to stay sober.”

My brows furrowed, “It sounds like you have a lot of faith in him. Good to know.” I moved to stand, “Well, if there isn’t anything else you need from me…”

Joe smiled weakly in my direction, “No, I think that’s it for now…just make sure you review the schedule and let us know if you have questions.” 

I gave them a sarcastic smile before moving to leave the conference room. As I rounded the corner in the hallway, looking down at the floor lost in my thoughts and frustration, I ran into someone. I started mumbling my apologies as I looked up at the stranger. I was met with a mess of curls, piercing dark eyes, and a dimpled lop-sided grin. It was Dieter fucking Bravo looking like he just stepped out of a GQ magazine. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he said through a chuckle with his hands on my shoulders to catch me from running head first into him. We stared at each other in silence for a moment. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, he can’t call me that.  

He had a slight smirk on his face now, “Katarina, right? Looks like we’re gonna be dance partners.” 

I shook my head, my lips set in a tight line, “Don’t call me that.” 

His brow furrowed, “What? Katarina?” 

I scoffed, “No, sweetheart. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea. It’s inappropriate. You can call me Kat like everyone else.” 

He was obviously taken off guard by my cold demeanor as he gave me a confused look, “I didn’t…mean anything by it, I-I call everyone sweetheart.” 

I nodded, “Well, you're not gonna call me that.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a beat, “I guess I’ve earned that. Sorry, I won’t do it again.” 

I inhaled deeply, biting my bottom lip as I did so. It didn’t go unnoticed that his eyes shifted down to my mouth. “Look, this is my last season and I just wanna get through it without any drama, ok?”

A crease formed between his brows as his jaw ticked to the side, “What makes you think I’m gonna cause drama?”

I shook my head, now realizing how big of a jerk I was being, “Umm…I…”

He continued to stare at me with a burning intensity, “Just so you know, I’m sober…have been for eight months. Drama is not my thing these days…”

I gave him a tight smile, “Good…hopefully you can stick to it.”  Fuck. That did not come out how I meant for it to.

I could see his jaw muscles flex before he let out a small laugh. His eyes finally shifted downward. He almost looked hurt by that comment. 

I sighed, “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” 

His brows arched as he peered at me through his lashes, “You know, I requested to be partnered with you because I was told that you're professional and wouldn’t be judgmental about my past…I guess I heard wrong. I suppose I should just expect it at this point, right? Maybe I shouldn’t have such high expectations of others.” 

My mouth fell open as I shook my head. I’m such a fucking asshole. He didn’t give me a chance to say anything before he spoke again, “I guess I’ll see you at rehearsals tomorrow. Have a good afternoon.” He gave me a sad smile as he brushed past me. I stood there with my mouth hanging open like an idiot watching him as he walked toward the exit. That was a great first impression. Good job, Kat. 

“Who was that?” Alec asked from behind me. 

I turned, running my fingers through the top of my hair out of frustration, “That was my new dance partner.” 

Alec squinted toward the figure standing near the exit, now stopping to look at his phone, “Is that Dieter Bravo?” 

I could feel my jaw tighten as I took in Alec’s expression, “Yes, it is.” Alec’s head snapped toward me, “I don’t want you working with him.” 

I smiled sarcastically, “Really? And you think I have a choice in that? They made it clear, there is no other option. I asked.”

Alec shook his head, “You could just not do this season. You're quitting anyway. Why not go ahead and drop out?” 

My eyes widened at his suggestion, “Because I need the fucking money, you know that.” 

He chuckled, “Right, for the dance studio.” 

I scoffed, “Yeah, for the dance studio. I don’t understand why you can’t support me on that.” 

Alec didn’t acknowledge my question, “This guy is a known womanizer. I’m not comfortable with this.” 

My head tilted to the side, “So you don’t trust me. That’s rich coming from you. You know…I’m not excited about your partner either, but I didn’t tell you to drop out. If anyone has a right to be concerned, it’s me.” 

Alec moved in closer, causing me to back up against the wall as he got in my face. His eyes were blazing with anger, “You’re never gonna let that shit go, are you? That was ten months ago, and I have been loyal to you ever since. Yet here you are…still throwing it in my fucking face.” 

I had a sudden defiant streak hit me, “You’re the one who brought it up by insinuating that you couldn’t trust me. I’m just reminding you who the problem is in this relationship.” 

Alec moved to put his hand on the wall next to my head as he leaned in further - his nose nearly touching mine as I turned my stoney face away from him, “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again,” he spat out.   

I could feel his eyes drift over my face for a moment before he pulled away and walked off. 

I huffed out a quiet “Fuck” as I exhaled a shaky breath and watched him walk toward the dressing rooms. When I glanced back toward the exit, Dieter was still standing there, frozen in place with his phone halfway to his ear. Once he realized I was looking his way, his head dropped downward, and he slowly turned to exit the building.   

 Dieter’s POV 

As I walked out into the scorching afternoon sun, I ended the call to check my voicemail, deciding I wasn’t in the mood to hear it. I was frustrated by my first interaction with Katarina. It didn’t go how I expected, and honestly, she had hurt my feelings. Based on everything I had heard about her, I didn’t think she would throw my past up in my face like that. At least not immediately, if at all. She did seem a little flustered, maybe she was just having a bad day? 

What followed after our exchange was even more bizarre. It looked like she was having a tense conversation with the man that I assumed was the one she was dating. Lenny had mentioned she was engaged to one of the other dancers. When the man first leaned in, I initially thought they were just having a private moment, but then I noticed the look on Kat’s face as she turned away from him. Something about it was unsettling and for a brief moment, I considered interrupting them. Luckily, I didn’t have to. However, I was left feeling that I had witnessed something I wasn’t supposed to.

Even though our conversation didn’t go as well as I hoped, I was still struck with how beautiful Katarina was in person. Pictures and TV didn’t do her justice. It was probably a good thing she was seeing someone, otherwise I would be in danger of making a fool of myself. Then again, I probably would anyway. My sober self didn’t seem to know how to act around a pretty lady. My confidence and self-assurance definitely weren’t on the same level these days. 

When I got home, I spent more time than I would like to admit staring at my reflection in the mirror - trying to remind myself that I was no longer the piece of shit that everyone still saw me as. It was still hard for me to accept that the old me and the new me were two very different people. Some days it really did seem like it was easier being the old Dieter Bravo, because he didn’t care about how he was perceived by others. I often longed for him to come back, just to quiet the thoughts of self-hate and inadequacy. Those thoughts really could be suffocating and hard to overcome. It was near impossible living with myself on those days.

The anticipation of how our first rehearsal would go was starting to get to me. So, I decided to spend the rest of the evening trying to relax and take my mind off things. With classical music blaring from the sound system, I moved through the house to check in on my plants - watering, misting leaves, and pruning. It was a new hobby I had picked up since rehab. It started with one succulent plant that had seen better days. My neighbor had left it sitting next to the trash bin on garbage collection day. For some reason, I had an urge to attempt to save the shriveled mass. After a few weeks, it was showing new life as the deep purple hues started to form on the leaves. My plant obsession bloomed from there. Now I wasn’t even sure how many I had. I was fairly certain my housekeeper was going to quit if I brought any more home. 

After I was finished with the plants, I spent some time painting until I couldn’t hold my eyes open any longer. It was nearing midnight by the time I had showered and crawled into bed. Even though I was completely exhausted, I couldn’t shut my mind off. The anxiety was now building to problematic levels. It was always at this point that I thought about using the most. By now, the old Dieter would be a couple lines in and a few drinks deep to block out the thoughts. The new Dieter suffers through it as he lay in bed alone, staring into the darkness. I drug both hands down my face and huffed loudly before moving to switch on the lamp beside the bed. I reached for my latest self-help book and began reading.  

I was startled awake by my 7 AM alarm. I groaned as I felt around next to me on the bed for the shrilling phone to shut it off. I sat up, still half out of it, causing the book that had been lying on my chest to fall to the floor with a loud thump. I got up from bed, wiping the sleep from my eyes as I walked toward the bathroom to splash some water on my face. I stood staring at my reflection again, “You look like shit, Bravo.” It was clear I hadn’t gotten much sleep from my dark circles and puffy eyelids. I threw a warm rag over my eyes for a few minutes in hopes that would help.

Standing in my closet staring at the pile of gym clothes my stylist had picked up, I selected a random pair of shorts and a t-shirt, then pulled the tags off. We weren’t allowed to wear anything with brands or logos on filming days, so I had to break down and buy more clothes. It was probably for the best, my old gym clothes were looking a little ratty anyway.    

Once I was dressed, I grabbed my backpack that had a few essentials in it and headed toward the front door. As I stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind me, I was greeted by my furry squatter who had left another gift near the steps - a dead mouse. I sighed, “Well, at least it’s not on top of the car this time…” The fluffy menace meowed at me as he rubbed against my legs, as if to say, “Look what I did!” 

I was determined to not give in to the furry intruder, so I disregarded his attempts for pets. “Don’t you have a family somewhere to annoy?” I muttered to him as I continued toward the car. He followed me halfway down the pathway before sitting down and flicking his tail around as he watched me get into the driver's side and shut the door. He didn’t look happy about being ignored. 

I gave myself a quick glance in the rearview mirror, reaching to comb down my hair with my fingers. I hadn’t bothered to fix it, knowing it was going to turn into a mess no matter what I did to it. Then, I started the car and drove in silence to the dance studio, not even really sure how I got there as I pulled into the parking lot. I found myself wondering if I had run any redlights as I walked through the main entrance. I felt like I was in a haze as the camera team talked to me in the lobby to fill me in on the plans for filming. 

They wanted to do a brief interview with me before I went into the studio with Katarina. They wanted me to give the whole spiel about how excited I was to be here and working with my dance partner. Truth is, I wasn’t excited. I was nervous as hell, and I was supposed to act like this was the first time I was meeting her. I was unsure of how to act toward her, so when the time came for me to walk through the door to greet her and act excited, I turned on the Dieter Bravo charm the best I could and pretended like yesterday’s conversation never happened.

I was surprised to find how well Katarina did the same thing as she came over to greet me with a smile and a hug and gushed about how excited she was to work with me. However, we were both avoiding looking at the other directly. Clearly there was still some lingering awkwardness between us. After they filmed the introduction, they wanted to get some quick shots of us rehearsing. 

These first few days of rehearsal were meant for learning the basics. We were not actually getting into the first routine yet. We started with some simple stretches and moved into learning the proper frame, the different types of positions, and spacing for the different types of dances. It was all very high level and fast, but Katarina had promised that we would go over it in more detail once the film crew left for the day. The quick pace was mostly for the benefit of the film crew so they could get what they needed and move on to the next couple. 

Once filming was done for the day, we took a seat on the floor for a water break as the crew gathered up all of their gear to leave. We mostly sat in awkward silence until we were finally alone. I could feel Katarina’s eyes on me as I stared at the water bottle in my hand. She spoke first. 

“I feel like I should apologize about yesterday…I was having a shit day and kind of took it out on you. I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t mean what I said.” 

I pursed my lips and shrugged, “It’s fine. I’m used to it at this point.” 

She reached out and grasped my wrist with her left hand, the heat of her touch raced through me as I looked at the glittering ring on that finger for a moment before meeting her eyes, “It doesn’t mean that it should keep happening though. It’s not right and it’s not fair to you. Everyone deserves a second chance.” 

I huffed out a small laugh, “Yeah, except I’m on like my tenth chance. I understand why no one takes me seriously. Really, it’s not that big of a deal.” 

Her face softened as she stared at me for a beat, like she was trying to decide what she wanted to say next. Then she shifted her body to face me as she crossed her legs, “It is a big deal. It’s a big deal to me because I know better. You know…” 

She paused, appearing to gather her thoughts. I moved to lean back on my hand and face her more fully with my legs stretched out to the side. My teeth bit into my bottom lip as I watched her face shift to a somewhat pained expression. It was brief, but I still caught it before she gained her composure. 

“My uhh…my dad was sober for about 14 years before he passed. I know how hard it was for him in the beginning…with everyone doubting him and not giving him a chance. It’s one of the reasons he relapsed the first few times. It can be hard when you don’t have any support from the people around you. I know that…and I don’t wanna be one of those people. You haven’t given me any reason to doubt you, so I wanna make sure I’m giving you a fair shot and support you as long as you’re actively trying to better yourself. I know first-hand that people do change.”

Is she fucking serious? I couldn’t move or speak. She had stunned me again for the second day in a row. I never would have guessed she would share something so personal, especially on our first day together. She seemed sincere in her apology.   

I finally managed a curt nod before I reached to rub at the crease between my brows, “Thanks…I uhh…I appreciate that.”  I let out a small laugh, “I appreciate it more than you probably realize, actually.” 

She gave me a tentative smile, “Does that mean I’m forgiven for being an asshole then?” 

I chuckled, “Of course…and I didn’t think you were an asshole. Not really. I had a feeling you were having a bad day.”

“Whew…ok. Good. I was worried I had already fucked this whole thing up before it started.” 

Ok, it’s kind of hot when she says fuck. I smirked, “Does this mean I get to call you sweetheart now?” 

She narrowed her eyes on me and shook her head, “No. No sweetheart.” She laughed quietly, “But, I might consider a different nickname if you come up with a good one.” 

My lips spread into a cheeky smile, “I think I can come up with something.” She laughed into the top of her water bottle as she took a sip with a slight flush creeping up her neck. Am I flirting right now? I don’t even know what I’m doing. Geez. I looked away in an attempt to reign myself in. I can’t be doing that.  

We were soon back at it, now with a more relaxed atmosphere. We again started with getting my frame right. I stood in place as she moved my arms to the proper position, pushing in between my shoulder blades to straighten my posture. After several minutes in the position, I couldn’t help the groan that slipped out, “This is gonna do a number on my back muscles, isn’t it?” 

She snickered, “You will definitely have better posture by the time I’m done with you. Now, elbows up, you should have a horizontal line from elbow to elbow…and hold it there.” 

She then stood in front of me, taking in my form for a moment before manipulating my hands into the proper position. 

Smiling, she nodded in satisfaction as she stepped closer, “Ok, now let’s go over the hold. The hold is important because it’s how we connect…how our bodies communicate movement to lead and follow.” 

As she spoke, she moved closer, placing her arm along the top of my right one and clasping my left hand in hers. She was very matter of fact with her words as her eyes bore into mine. It was almost distracting. 

“I need you to make sure there’s no space between our arms…here, so keep your elbow flush against mine.” She bounced her arm against the top of my right one to emphasize what she meant. “This is an important connection point because I can feel the pressure from your arm, which will tell me how to follow. As for your left hand, keep it at my eye level. We apply pressure here as well for another connection point.”    

All I could do was nod along with her words, completely mesmerized by her intensity. Once she felt we had the hold down, she began to explain the differences in spacing for standard ballroom versus Latin dances. 

“So…in Latin style dances, we’ll have more space between us…like we are now. It gives us more room to move. We’re gonna be slightly offset from each other while maintaining this closed position. Got it?”

I nodded again as I chewed on the inside of my cheek. I wanted to look at her directly, but I couldn’t. Between her eyes burning into me and the tingling from her touch, I felt like my skin was on fire. I didn’t know what to make of it and it was sort of fucking with my head.

Then she stepped even closer, the front of our bodies nearly flush as she slightly adjusted the position of our arms. I swallowed hard over her proximity and the tangy citrus scent that was now invading my senses. Fuck. I might be in trouble. 

“For standard dances, like the Waltz and Foxtrot, we’re gonna be closer…like this. Our frame will be a little wider and our arms will be positioned slightly lower. We’ll both be looking off to our left instead of directly at each other.”   

I cleared my throat, stepping back slightly, “Sooo…umm…do we look off to the left for Latin dances?” 

Her brows arched as her eyes widened, “Good question. I should have mentioned that. There’s typically more direct eye contact in the Latin dances. It’s actually another form of connection…another way for us to communicate without words.”

She moved back into the Latin dance hold, now making direct eye contact with me. I couldn’t help how my eyes roamed over her face, taking in the minor changes in her expression as she spoke. I wasn’t sure if the close proximity of the standard hold or direct eye contact with the Latin hold was worse. They were both a little overwhelming. 

“Alright, let’s try some steps. We can start with the Rumba.” 

She broke away for a moment to show me the foot movement, then had me give it a try. After a successful attempt, she positioned us back into the Latin hold and we began moving together. Once it seemed we had the footwork down, she backed away with a smirk on her face. 

“You’re actually really good at this, you know. We do need to work on eye contact though.”

I smiled nervously as I looked down at my feet and rubbed the back of my neck, “I’m sorry…I know. Direct eye contact is a little weird for me.” I glanced up at her through my lashes, slightly embarrassed by the admission. 

She smiled and arched a brow in my direction, “Really? I never would have guessed that based on your love scenes.”

My eyes widened. I do not need to think about her watching me dick someone down on screen. Focus, Bravo. I chuckled nervously, “Yeah, I’m not usually looking directly into their eyes during those. I tend to stare between their eyebrows.” 

She gave me a sly smile now, snickering, “Oh, is that why you usually look cross eyed then?” 

My brow furrowed as I gave her a mock look of offense, “I don’t look cross eyed. That’s rude.”

She cackled over my response, “I’m joking. I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen one of your love scenes to know how your face looks.” 

I scrunched up my nose, “Ouch, ok…so you don’t watch my movies. Got it.” 

Her laugh had simmered to a quiet chuckle now as she lightly smacked my shoulder, “I’ve seen some…just not any with a love scene. So don’t be so offended. I’ve seen those TikTok videos though…they gave me a good idea of what I’m working with.”

I rolled my eyes, “Ugh…those fucking TikTok videos. They’re so bad.”  

I had to admit, it was nice to be joking around with her after all the tension that had built up from yesterday. I took it as a good sign that this might actually go ok. What I didn’t expect was the attraction that I was starting to feel as our day went on. However, the obnoxiously sized engagement ring she wore on her finger helped keep that in check every time I saw it sparkling in the light when she moved. As long as that shiny reminder was there, I would be ok... 

Right?

Next: Week 2

✨FUN FACTS: All cast members on Dancing with the Stars are in fact required to get a weekly spray tan. They also do not get to choose their partners, costumes, music, or themes. They can make recommendations obviously, but the producers do not have to honor the requests. When it comes to pairing partners, the producers do have a "formula".

A/N: I wanted to take a quick minute to welcome all of my new and old readers! So happy to have you all with me for my next adventure with Dieter Bravo. For the new folks, I'm a sucker for predictions and theories. If you have them, drop them in the comments so we can discuss. Now on to my normal nonsense...how are you guys feeling about the first chapter? How do you feel about Dieter and Kat's first couple of interactions? What about all the characters that were introduced? I'm curious to know who you want to throat punch more, Alec or Stacia? I'm already in love with these two and I can't wait to share more of them. This Dieter is...something else. I love sharing things from his point of view. He is going to be a good time, as expected. Kat is...kind of a mess, but also not? It's been interesting being in her head. How do you see things progressing with these two? Lastly, a quick thank you to @maggiemayhemnj for giving this first chapter a quick read through to make sure all these plot points were introduced in a way that made sense...because seriously, there is a lot going on here. She also found the perfect disco ball looking dividers for this...and I fucking love them. 😘 👉 I did a fun post about Dieter's plant hobby and his furry visitor. Check it out HERE. 👉 In case you missed it, I also did a character introduction post, which you can find HERE. Until next time, 💜 Mysty

Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @linzels-blog @morallyinept @survivingandenduring  @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions @myloveistoolittle @for-a-longlongtime  @copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter @burntheedges @stevie75 @pedrostories

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments or shoot me a DM.

Credits: Support/MDNI Dividers: @cafekitsune Disco Divider: @deadbranch

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedrohub #soft dieter #dancing dieter #cat dad dieter #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo x oc #the bubble fanfiction

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Thanks for the reminder that the real thing is definitely going to unalive us all…💀💀💀

ngl this fake gladiator 2 thumbnail goes pretty fuckin hard

#gladiator 2 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #i’m not ready #it will be the death of me #if it looks anything close to this

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Spot the Difference…

Lazy Trash Panda Edition

These are the same picture. 🦝

Want to see more?

#sweet trash panda #dieter bravo #dieter bravo coded #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #spot the difference

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Closed Position: Week 2 (Foxtrot)

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

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

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

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

Chapter Word Count: 15.7k

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

Week 2 Quote:   “What’s wrong, do I have too many buttons open or something?”

Katarina’s POV Our first week of rehearsal had gone well after the initial awkwardness dissipated. I admit, I was extremely nervous about how our introduction was going to go and didn’t really know how to handle it. I had hoped Dieter and I would get a chance to talk before filming, but that didn’t happen. I was surprised by how effortlessly he pretended it was our first-time meeting, like we hadn’t had a somewhat confrontational interaction the day before. He had put on a good show, but I could still sense the tension rolling off him as we did our quick filming session. 

I knew that we needed to discuss what happened, so as soon as we were alone, I bit the bullet and brought it up to get it out of the way. I apologized for my behavior. I had to because the things that I had said to him were eating away at my conscience. My reaction wasn’t fair to him. Was he part of the problem? Yes. However, he wasn’t the cause. He was dropped in the middle of the situation just as much as I had been. He wasn’t intentionally trying to cause trouble between me and Alec. It was Stacia and Joe who were hoping that something would develop from their plotting. Dieter was just doing as he was told.

I could tell by the look on Dieter’s face that what I said had hurt him. I had a feeling that he didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t mean it. I hadn’t intended to tell him about my father, but at that moment I felt like he needed to hear it. I wanted him to know that I was sorry and that I wasn’t like everyone else who had been doubting him. He was willing to be open with me about his sobriety, so I felt like I needed to share something personal with him as well. We were going to be partners after all. That meant we needed to learn to communicate effectively and trust each other. Starting out the way we had would’ve caused us to fall apart quickly if we didn’t right it as soon as possible.  

Dieter seemed to accept my apology and appreciate what I shared about my father. He relaxed almost immediately, which led into a teasing banter between the two of us. He ended up being nothing like I expected. He was very respectful and put in a lot of effort to learn everything I was teaching him. I had a feeling he would be a decent dancer, but I was surprised at how quickly he was picking things up and how good he was in executing the moves. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I might actually have a shot to make it to finals. I just had to make sure I stayed on top of my game to help him get there. I also had to make sure I didn’t allow myself to be attracted to the man. 

The thought of finding Dieter attractive never crossed my mind when I was told he would be my partner. I had seen pictures of him before rehab and he usually looked like a mess. However, I had to admit that the man did clean up nicely. His sweet temperament and eagerness to learn didn’t help the situation. His puppy dog eyes and golden-retriever energy made it hard to not like him. There were times when his large brown orbs would look up at me through his lashes because he was unsure about something, and it would literally take my breath away. After spending up to seven hours with him every day last week to go over the basics of ballroom dance, I couldn’t deny that I found him to be alluring. 

I found myself brushing thoughts of Dieter aside often. I couldn’t allow myself to think about him like that because I had Alec. Though, Alec did have me in a constant state of frustration that left me questioning our relationship. He had been even more insufferable since I started working with Dieter, becoming more possessive than he normally was while also being less forthcoming than normal about how things were going with his own dance partner. I couldn’t help the distrust that I still felt toward him. I had a feeling this season of the show was going to be our final test. It was either going to strengthen our relationship or break it. The way it stood after the first week, the tighter he tried to hold on, the further away he was pushing me. It was adding a lot of stress to my personal life, which was quickly causing my time with Dieter to turn into an escape and that concerned me.  

We were now into Monday of week two. The week that things really started kicking off for our grueling schedule. The agenda for this particular Monday was fairly light, physically, since Mondays would normally be a live show day. Instead of the show, we were shooting promo material, which meant all the dance couples had photoshoot sessions lined up. Dieter and I were scheduled for 11 AM, but we still had to go in early for hair and makeup. The entire cast is required to use the show’s hair and makeup team which is set up in a large room inside Television City Studios. There are stations lining the perimeter of the room, each having a large mirror surrounded by lights, a counter stocked with all the needed utensils and products, and a barber chair. 

Dieter and I both arrived around the same time and grabbed some terrible coffee from Craft Services to get us through the morning, making small talk as we headed toward hair and makeup. As soon as we entered the room, we were whisked off to stations on opposite sides of the space. He was seated directly behind me, which meant we could see each other in the mirrors. It was hard not to stare, given he was right in my line of sight. I quickly noticed him doing the same thing. When our eyes would meet in the reflection, he would often give me an exasperated look as the hair stylist struggled with his tresses, then smile. I smiled back as I watched them tame his unruly curls into a more sophisticated style. They had gelled it back, but left a hint of curl to it. I couldn’t help thinking how handsome he looked as I watched him stand and head toward the wardrobe department.

Once my ridiculous amount of makeup was applied and my hair styled into an elegant low bun with sparkly diamond-like accessories, I made my way to the wardrobe department as well. They confirmed that Dieter was my partner before going to pull a couple of dress options that would coordinate with what they had put him in. I could hear Dieter laughing loudly in the back near the fitting area as one of the tailors, who I didn’t know, came to the front and told the costume coordinator behind the desk to update Dieter’s measurements because his shoulders were too broad for what they had put him in, causing him to pop a button off the shirt already. A look passed between the two women that said they were clearly smitten with the actor. I figured he probably charmed them as soon as he walked into the room. I had already noticed that he had a way of doing that. 

As one of the costumers led me back to the changing rooms, I passed by Dieter standing in front of a mirror, bare chested as the tailor from earlier handed him another black button up shirt to try. He gave me a cheesy smile, “I’m already causing trouble. I’ve busted out of my shirt.” Fucking hell, he looks good. I was taken off guard by the sight of him, and his comment. The best I could manage was a quiet chuckle as I continued toward my destination. His broad shoulders, toned chest, and sculpted arms were now seared into my brain. He had a slim waist but was a little soft around the middle. I found it to be more attractive than Alec’s overly chiseled abs. Yeah, I’m definitely going to hell. I felt hot and flustered suddenly as I took the black and silver Latin style dress from the costumer to try on and made my way into a changing room.  

After I was dressed, I walked out to the fitting area so the tailor could look over my attire. Dieter was now fully dressed but had left several of the top buttons on his shirt open and rolled the sleeves up - which wasn’t unusual for the guys on the show. However, I was finding those small areas of exposed flesh to be incredibly distracting. It was ridiculous because it wasn’t like I hadn’t seen his forearms during rehearsals when he wore t-shirts. I had to force myself to look away from his reflection as he stood nearby chatting with the tailor about the fit of the shirt in the shoulders. I almost snorted as she recommended he continue to leave several buttons open to give him room to move freely. He didn’t say anything in response, but I did notice a slight upward twitch of his left eyebrow. A small smirk formed on his lips as the tailor smiled up at him. Smooth. I can respect her game. I looked away quickly as his eyes briefly wandered over toward me. 

Once the tailor stopped fawning over Dieter, she moved to stand in front of me, eyes roaming over me to check the fit of the dress. She reached to tug at the fabric around my breast, pulling it tighter and adjusting the straps. I rolled my head back and chanced a glance in Dieter’s direction to find him watching with a furrowed brow. The tailor backed away, “Do you want sticky inserts or do you want me to pin it back?”

I sighed, “Inserts are fine if that’ll work.” She nodded before disappearing to the back. Dieter cleared his throat, his face now looking slightly flushed, “I’ll uhhh, wait for you up front.” I gave him a tight smile as I tried not to laugh at his embarrassment over watching the tailor grope at me. After doing this for 13 years, I was used to it. A few minutes later, the tailor, who I later learned was named Amy, returned with a new set of stick-on bra cups. Luckily that helped solve my issue and she sent me on my way so that we could get to the photographer on time. 

As I emerged into the front waiting area, Dieter gave me a mischievous smirk, “Did you get everything sorted out.”

I looked down at my chest, cupped both breasts in my hands briefly before looking back up at him with a blank expression, “Yeah, I think so. They aren’t popping out now.” His eyes widened before he burst out laughing. That hadn’t been the response he was expecting. I chuckled as I turned him to face the exit and pushed him toward it. 

When we walked into the room where the photographer was set up, my eyes were drawn to Alec and Lana being photographed. They were full of giggles and smiles as they posed for their promo shots. They weren’t doing anything inappropriate, but there was something about the way they kept glancing at each other that made my stomach churn. I’m being such a fucking hypocrite right now. I had literally been devouring Dieter with my eyes a few minutes prior, so it wasn’t like I had room to speak. Then again, I wasn’t the one who had a history of cheating either. I felt Dieter lean in next to me, “Hey, you ok?” 

Snapping out of the glare I was surely throwing their way, I glanced up at Dieter, “Yeah, I’m good.” I gave him a tight smile which didn’t seem too convincing. He looked back toward Alec and Lana, his face shifting as he studied them. I wondered if he could see what I saw between them. There was definitely chemistry there. A moment later, I felt his hand on my shoulder as he gave it a small reassuring squeeze. It seemed like he was trying to communicate something without words, but I didn’t know what to make of it. 

Alec and Lana were finished soon after our arrival. Alec seemed surprised to see us once he finally looked in my direction. He made a beeline toward Dieter and I, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing me on the cheek, “Hey baby, you look good.” 

I gave him a confused smile. He wasn’t usually this touchy while we were in work mode. He glanced over at Dieter and reached his hand out to introduce himself as my “soon to be husband”. Oh…it’s because of Dieter. He’s getting territorial. For fucks sake. Dieter didn’t skip a beat, immediately turning on that Bravo charm. Alec didn’t seem to buy it, but that didn’t stop him from making small talk as he sized Dieter up. The two men were of similar height, but Dieter was much broader and thick, while Alec was leaner and more sculpted. There was no contest there. 

In my periphery, I noticed Lana giving me the stink eye from the other side of the room. Well, that tells me all I need to know about her. I awkwardly moved to extract myself from Alec’s hold, noting that the photographer was ready for us. As we listened to the photographer’s instructions, I could tell Dieter’s energy was off. I glanced back in the direction we had come from, realizing Alec was still standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. His intimidating gaze now focused on us. The photographer politely suggested a few poses for us, we complied but I could tell Dieter was hesitating when it came to touching me.

After Alec left the room, the energy shifted. Both of us eventually relaxing enough to have fun with it as I instructed him into several less intimate dance poses. We spent a lot of time laughing over his failed attempts. Once our hour was up, the photographer seemed happy with the shots he had taken. Even commenting that we had been one of the more fun couples that he had worked with so far. Dieter took the credit for that, citing that he was just a fun guy to be around. I couldn’t help but to roll my eyes at him. At that point, we were finished for the day. We quickly got changed and said our goodbyes so we could go home to rest and prepare for what was to come. 

Tuesdays started with production meetings. Today we would be having our first one to go over the details of our routine - the dance, costumes, and music. I always hated these meetings and felt like it was something that could have been given to us in writing. However, I suspected these meetings served another purpose. It was an opportunity for Stacia and Joe to see how the dancers and celebrities were getting along. A chance for them to learn about our relationships and see where they could throw the gasoline next. Knowing that was most likely the real reasoning caused my frustrations to grow. It made me feel anxious in a way that had never been an issue in the past because I knew they were looking to manipulate us in any way they could. I knew I would need to be vigilant and make sure we were not playing into their games. 

I had debated warning Dieter about Stacia and Joe and was still considering it while I ate my breakfast. As I was finishing up, my phone pinged with multiple texts from Alec with an absurd number of questions about my schedule for the week. I let out a controlled breath as I read through them - rolling my eyes before throwing my phone down on the counter without responding. I didn’t have time for that, nor did I want to deal with it. Instead, I moved toward the bathroom to shower and get ready for my day. 

Dieter’s POV My Tuesday had a ridiculously early start. My upcoming schedule was so packed my assistant had to work hard to squeeze in appointments with my therapist wherever he could. So that’s how I ended up in Dr. Smith’s office at 7 AM. Of course, the topic of the day was how things were going with my dance partner and rehearsals. Dr. Smith seemed to zero in on the topic of feelings when I made a comment about how weird it was being so physically close to someone for so long - that it almost felt inappropriate and uncomfortable at times. She immediately asked me to expand on that. After a few minutes of struggling to put it into words, she finally spoke up to share her thoughts. 

“Dieter, we’ve talked about your aversion to intimacy before. I think that’s where this is coming from. I don’t know much about ballroom dancing, but I do know it involves a lot of intimacy and you are not used to that.” 

 I shook my head, “But it’s not like that…it’s not sexual.” Not physically anyway…my thoughts are another story. 

She chuckled, “Intimacy isn’t just sexual. You can have intimacy with friends and family too. It can be emotional, intellectual, creative…there are so many ways to connect with someone that doesn’t involve sex. It’s something that quite frankly, you’ve been starved of and avoided most of your life. So, I can see why it would make you uncomfortable and why you would have the urge to shy away from it.” 

I snorted and spoke before I realized what I was doing, “But I don’t wanna…” Fuck. I caught myself too late.

Her brow furrowed, “You don’t want to what?” 

I sighed, “I don’t wanna shy away from it. I actually enjoy being around Kat. It’s just a little…intense, I guess. It makes me feel anxious and something else…that I don’t really know how to explain.”

Dr. Smith tilted her head slightly as she took in my words, “Dieter, are you attracted to her?” 

Yes. “No…I mean she’s nice looking. I can’t deny that, but she has a fiancée. It’s just…s-she treats me…like a person. She doesn’t look at me and see a fuck up. She’s giving me a chance and not just automatically assuming that I’m gonna fall back into old habits. You know what I mean?”

Dr. Smith nodded, “So, you’re developing a relationship with her that isn’t based on sex or favors.” 

I rubbed at the deep crease between my brows, “Yeah, I guess so. I suppose it’s probably the closest thing that I’ve had to an actual friendship in a long time…but I mean, it’s only been a week. So, I’m not even sure if I can call it that…but it does feel like more than just working together if that makes sense? We laugh, we joke, we vibe. I guess it does feel like we have some type of connection….and…I find myself wanting to…please her?” I cringed as soon as the words left my mouth, “NO! Not that. Umm, I guess…do a good job is what I mean. I don’t wanna let her down.” 

We stared at each other for a beat, Dr. Smith had a thoughtful look on face as she digested my words. “Dieter…this might be a good thing for you. I want you to work on being open with her. Develop the friendship between the two of you. I think it would be good practice for you, emotionally, to connect with someone in that way. It sounds like she’s willing to build a friendship with you and give you the benefit of the doubt. I know you’ve been seeking that…and it would be good for you to have a friend that’s supportive of your recovery. You don’t have a lot of that right now…and it’s important.”

This is a bad fucking idea. “Ok…yeah. I’ll try.” 

I left that therapy session feeling more on edge than I did before I had gone in. I was feeling a lot of conflict and confusion about my feelings toward Kat, which was ridiculous because I hadn’t known her for that long. Sure, I thought she was physically attractive and normally that alone would’ve been enough for me to pursue her for sex. Aside from the fact that she was taken, I actually didn’t want to ruin what we were potentially building for a quick roll in the sack. I wanted more. I enjoyed spending time with her, and she made me want to be better. I found myself wondering what it would be like to spend time with her outside of the dance studio - doing something as simple as getting lunch or stopping into a bookstore to find a book together that we could discuss after reading. I had never wanted something like that with someone. It was both scary and exciting. 

I soon found myself parking outside Television City Studios for our first production meeting. I now had a fluttering in my stomach that was almost foreign. As I sat rolling up the sleeves of my dress shirt, I decided it was nerves related to the impending live show in less than a week's time. The production meeting made it feel more real and imminent. 

Walking into the main entrance, I spotted Kat waiting in the lobby. Her eyes locked on me as I approached. She had an odd expression, her eyes seeming to roam over me before she met my gaze with a smirk on her face.

“What’s wrong, do I have too many buttons open or something?” I asked, jokingly.

She laughed nervously as she shook her head, “No. Your buttons are open just the right amount…That shade of blue looks really good on you.”   

I smiled as my face heated from the compliment. I leaned my head downward and swiped my thumb across my bottom lip before glancing back up at her. Is she blushing? She looks flushed. 

She cleared her throat, “Umm…before we get called in there, I wanted to warn you about Stacia and Joe. They like to…try and…”

I smirked, thinking back to my first interaction with them, “Create drama?” 

Kat huffed out a laugh, “Yeah…that. I have a feeling they’re gonna try and manipulate things with us and with Alec and Lana. It’s all about ratings with them.” 

I nodded, “I picked up on that during our first meeting. I figured. Don’t worry about it. I’m not gonna play into whatever it is they’re trying to do.” 

She had a sad smile on her face now, “Thank you. I appreciate that. At least two of us are on the same page.” 

Two? What does that mean? I opened my mouth to ask but was interrupted by a production assistant who was sent to lead us to the meeting space.

Once we entered the conference room, we were greeted with a smiling Stacia and Joe. Kat and I took our seats on the opposite side of the table from them, careful not to sit too closely together. I could tell they were studying us as soon as we walked through the door, looking for their angle. Stacia spoke first, “So, how is everything going with you two? Did you have a good first week of rehearsals?” 

Kat and I gave each other a knowing look before I responded. “It’s been going good. Kat is a great teacher…I seem to be picking things up quickly.”  

Stacia and Joe stared at me for a moment. Stacia’s brow arched slightly, like she was waiting for me to say more. When I didn’t, she finally smiled, “Well…that’s good to hear. We want to make sure you two are getting along ok.” 

Kat leaned forward and tilted her head slightly, “Is there a reason that we wouldn’t?” 

Stacia laughed and shifted nervously in her seat, “Of course not…just making conversation.” 

Well, that’s interesting. I had a feeling that Kat made Stacia uncomfortable, maybe even intimidated her some. Kat did seem to be giving off dominating vibes, which was fucking hot. Stacia cleared her throat as she pulled a couple sheets of paper out of a folder and slid them toward us. It appeared to be sketches for our costumes. They were both completely black. Kat’s gown was long and flowy with a very low back and front. 

“Your first performance will be the Foxtrot to the song Fever. You’ll be doing the behind the scenes filming on Friday this week. Do you have any objections to the costume sketches?” 

I glanced over at Kat, ready to agree with whatever she said since I wasn’t sure what she was comfortable with. 

Kat glanced down one last time, “I’m fine with them, Dieter?”   

I shrugged, “I’m good if she is.” 

We sat in an awkward silence for a beat, staring at each other. What the hell is this?

“Is there anything else?” Kat finally asked. 

Stacia nodded, “No. I guess not…unless you guys have anything to discuss?” 

Kat and I both shook our heads with confused expressions. 

Stacia eyed Kat, “Have you met Lana yet? I know she was excited to meet you.”

The energy around Kat shifted, her eyes darkened, and her jaw clenched at the question. Fuck. Please don’t react to that. “We did yesterday.” I said, speaking before I had time to think through my response. “She seemed very nice…Alec too. We had a lovely chat during the photoshoot.” I forced a smile and hoped it didn’t look fake. We need to get out of here. “Well, it was nice seeing you two again. We need to get to the dance studio to start working on our routine. I need all the practice I can get.”  

I looked over at Kat, who was giving me a grateful smile as she moved toward the door. We said our goodbyes as we exited the room, walking in silence until we reached the lobby. Kat turned to look at me, her brows furrowed as she chewed on her bottom lip.

“What the fuck was that?” I asked, completely confused by the interaction. 

“I dunno, it was bizarre. I guess they’re trying to figure out how to stir up drama between the four of us. I can guarantee it won’t be coming from either of us.”  

I arched my brows, “What do you mean?” 

She shook her head, not saying anything as she reached for her phone to check the time. “Our rehearsal space should be open soon. I’m gonna run home and grab my bag. I forgot it.”

I nodded, “Yeah…I’ll meet you there.”

That was an odd response from her. It made me wonder if something was going on with her and Alec. I could sense tension between them during the photoshoot but couldn’t exactly work out the cause of it. Whatever the reasoning, I felt like Stacia was aware of it and was actively trying to work it in her favor for ratings. That did make me sad for Kat because she didn’t deserve it.   

Kat moved to leave, but stopped, waving her phone as she turned to face me, “I guess we should probably exchange numbers…” 

“Oh, right. Of course.” I quickly typed my number into her phone. She followed up by shooting me a quick text with a waving emoji so I would have hers, then we said our goodbyes for now. 

I decided to grab an early lunch before heading to the dance studio. I briefly wondered if I should have asked Kat if she wanted anything. I was tempted to text her but didn’t want to start abusing my texting privileges already. She probably only wanted me to text if I was running late or something anyway. 

As I sat in the parking lot of the dance studio, eating my burrito, a hand smacked against the driver side window. It startled me, nearly causing me to drop my food. I hit the button to lower the glass and was met with Kat’s laughter as she moved to lean against my car. 

I sat smiling at her until her giggles finally subsided.

“Thanks for that. You were very close to cleaning the inside of my car.” 

She smiled, “I would have too, because it would’ve been my fault. I’m sorry. Totally worth it though.” 

I rolled my eyes at her, taking another bite. 

She leaned down, nearly sticking her head inside the car, “That looks good, where’s that from?”

“That Mexican place on Spring Street. I’ve got another, you want it? They’re fucking huge. No way I can eat it.”  Which was the truth. I wasn’t expecting them to be so big. She scrunched her nose, “What kind is it?” She’s too fucking adorable when she does that. 

I reached to pull the foil wrapped burrito out of the bag and held it up to her, “Cheesy steak and rice.”

She snatched it out of my hand, “If you insist. I’m never gonna turn down food.”

I laughed at her, “Good to know. Next time I’ll get your order.”

She moved to lean against the hood of my car as I got out with what was left of my burrito in one hand and my soda in the other. I leaned against the hood beside her and set my drink down between us as she started eating. A quiet moan escaped her lips causing little Bravo to involuntarily twitch in my pants. Fuck. That was hot.

“Ugh, this is so good. I’ve never been to that place. Clearly, I need to go.”

All I could muster in response was a nod. We ate in silence for a few minutes before she reached for my drink, tilting it forward and raising a brow at me as if to ask if it was ok. I nodded again and she took a quick sip before setting it back down. Once I finally got my thoughts in check, I was surprised by how at ease she seemed around me today.

Kat licked at the juices running down the side of her hand. I laughed at her and reached into the car to grab some napkins, handing them to her as she spoke, “Maybe we can start grabbing lunch on Tuesdays after our production meetings. We could get a head start discussing our routine since we have this odd break before our scheduled studio time.” 

“Yeah, I’m cool with that.” More than I should be. I was giddy at the thought of spending time with her outside of rehearsals. 

Her eyes narrowed on me as I finished up the last of my food, “So what does Dieter Bravo do in his free time?”    

I gave her a small smile as she stared at me with a soft gaze, “These days, not a whole lot. I moved into a beach house in Santa Monica about six months ago. I mostly just hole up there with my plants, music, and art supplies. I’ve pretty much had to change my whole life around since I got out of rehab.”

She had a sad smile on her lips now, nodding as she swallowed her latest bite. I had a feeling she knew what all that meant. “Plants and art supplies? So, you grow things and paint?” 

I laughed, “Yes…and I do mean houseplants. Don’t get any ideas.” 

She chuckled, “The thought didn’t even cross my mind.” She paused, rolling back the wrapping on her burrito, “It’s unexpected and cool, actually. I love art. I don’t have an artistic bone in my body, but I do love looking at other people’s work.” 

I raised a questioning eyebrow at her, “Dance is an art form…”

She rolled her eyes, “You know what I mean…painting, drawing…those kinds of things.”

I nodded, “Well, anyone can paint. So, don’t sell yourself short on that. You should give it a try. It’s a good stress reliever.” 

She shrugged, “What about the plants? Why plants?” 

I chuckled, “I don’t fucking know. That’s a fairly new obsession. I guess…I like learning about them. They all have different needs. There’s something about watching them grow and thrive from the care I’m putting into them. They also add a little extra something…makes the house homier.” I shook my head and laughed. Geez, I sound ridiculous. 

She smiled at me, “What’s wrong? Are you embarrassed by your love of plants?” 

I could feel my face heating up, “No…I mean, maybe. It’s a little weird, don’t ya think?”

She shook her head, “It’s surprising, but not weird. I kind of love it. It’s sweet.” 

Her eyes sparkled as she gave me an endearing smile, which caused knots to form in my stomach. She moved to take another drink from my soda, and I suddenly found her lips wrapping around the straw to be a little distracting. I had to force my line of sight elsewhere. 

She groaned as she stuck the last bit of the burrito in her mouth, “Ugh, I’m probably gonna regret that. Good thing we have some time to digest while we talk about our routine.” I laughed as I reached into the car to grab my bag so I could change once we got inside. 

After I got changed, Kat found our song and played it. We listened in silence while we did some basic stretches. After the song concluded, she sat quietly with her legs stretched out in front of her, thinking. She let out a controlled breath as she rubbed her hands down her face.  

“Ok, so…the foxtrot is probably one of the more difficult standard dances to learn. We haven’t gone over it yet. It requires a heel lead and gliding steps that should appear effortless and elegant. It’s a box step similar to the waltz, but the timing is different…it’s a mixture of slow steps that take up two beats and quick steps that take up one beat. It’s a slow, slow, quick, quick movement while maintaining a closed position with your partner. Let’s start with the basic steps, then we’ll start adding the flare to it.” 

I sat on the floor in front of her, listening intently, nodding along. She moved to stand, reaching out her hands to help pull me up to my feet. We spent a good amount of time working on the basic steps. She started with having me do the steps alone so she could watch my movements. It took a little longer than I would have liked to get the timing right, but I eventually caught on. Once I had it down, we assumed the closed position and began moving together. Initially her proximity was distracting, but I was able to move past it and focus on our movements. After we mastered the basics moving both forward and backwards, she added turning box steps to the mix.   

Now that I had the footwork down for the foxtrot, Kat wasted no time jumping in to craft a routine for us. I mostly watched her as she talked through ideas, occasionally stopping to work out the steps and movements on her own. She asked for input, but I didn’t feel confident enough to really have an opinion on any of it at this point. Overall, it was a light day as we worked through our plans. The afternoon flew by, and our rehearsal time was up before we knew it. 

As we were leaving, Kat warned me that we would be hitting things pretty hard for the rest of the week, so I needed to prepare myself. I laughed it off, but honestly, I was terrified. I was nervous about the increased physical contact with her. I had done well ignoring it so far, but I knew once we started getting into the routines, the contact was going to increase exponentially. It wasn’t just the fact that I found her to be incredibly attractive, but also because physical closeness was something that I never did with people that I didn’t have an active sexual relationship with. Even in those instances, it was about pleasure and nothing else. This was going to be weird for me and I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it.

When I got home that evening, I had a quick dinner then grabbed my tablet with the thought that I would look up some foxtrot videos on YouTube. I figured it might give me some ideas so I could have input on our routine since Kat insisted that she wanted me involved. I made my way out back to sit on a lounger next to the firepit - allowing the sounds of the ocean to lull me into relaxation before I went down my YouTube rabbit hole. 

I was honestly shocked at the range of routines I watched. Some were very serious and professional while others favored the more sensual side of the dance. I could feel my stomach fluttering at the thought of dancing like that with Kat. Sure, the idea was slightly arousing, but also imagining her looking at me the way these dancers were looking at each other caused my heart to skip a beat. It was a new kind of feeling that I couldn’t really find the words for. 

At some point, a video of Kat popped up from a previous season of the show. I watched it a couple of times, studying her face and the way she moved with her partner. It all felt very cold, like she was just going through the motions. She seemed focused on trying to get her partner through the routine rather than feeling the emotions of the dance. I eventually scrolled down to the ‘suggested videos’ section, finding a few of Kat and Alec from professional dance competitions that were several years old. In these, Kat was different. It was clear that she and Alec had chemistry on the dance floor. The way she moved her body was hypnotic and the way she looked at Alec was almost carnal. I couldn’t imagine her dancing like this with me. The thought of it made me dizzy and anxious. I wouldn’t be able to handle that level of emotion from her.  

Sighing, I set the tablet down on the ground beside me. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the lounger, trying to get that visual out of my mind. After a few minutes of contemplative silence, I sensed movement near my feet. When I opened my eyes, I was greeted by the furry intruder that refused to leave my yard. He sat for a moment, staring at me as if to ask if he could approach me. When I didn’t react, he hopped up onto my lap and meowed loudly in my face. I sighed, finally giving in to his cuteness and scratched behind his ears. He wasted no time crawling up my chest to rub his head against my beard, “Alright little dude, don’t get too excited. This isn’t gonna be a thing.” 

I couldn’t help the laugh that slipped between my lips as he started purring. This fucking cat. My arms slid around his small frame and cuddled him closer. I realized he felt a little boney under all that fur. I sighed louder this time, “I fucking knew this was gonna happen. You finally got me dude…come on.” I sat him down on the ground, grabbed my tablet, and got up to walk toward the house. He followed behind me, swishing his tail. I walked through the sliding door into the kitchen in search of something for him to eat. I found a few packets of tuna in the pantry and grabbed one. When I turned around, I was met with two green eyes staring at me from the floor. I chuckled, “Please, do come in.” I grabbed a bowl and emptied the pouch into it. He waited patiently for me to set it down in front of him - immediately digging in once I did, making little growling noises as he ate. I guess I have a fucking cat now.   

Katarina’s POV As I drove home, I took the time to reflect on my day. Stacia almost got a rise out of me this morning. I couldn’t let her do that because it would only add fuel to the flames she was trying to create. It was clear to me now that she was hoping Lana would drive a wedge between Alec and me. My fear was that it was working. I could already tell he had been more distant since rehearsals started. It wasn’t unusual given our schedules, but he would usually send texts throughout the day. I hadn’t received one from him since yesterday. I could feel the hurt creeping in. However, there was also a part of me hoping he would fuck up again because it was all beginning to be too much. I wanted to give up and I wanted out. 

Then there was Dieter. It was obvious that he sensed my unease at the mention of Lana, and he jumped in to cover for me without hesitation. He was damn near believable in his response. He and I hadn’t discussed anything related to Alec and Lana in detail, but I felt like he knew there was more to it than I had shared. I had to appreciate that he didn’t try to pry for information while also acting as the supportive dance partner. 

I don’t know what it is about Dieter, but I feel comfortable with him. Even though most people would probably call me crazy for it, I actually trust him. The realization hit me this morning after the production meeting. As I drove toward the dance studio, I made a conscious decision to build a friendship with him because I felt like he really needed it. Maybe we both did. 

When I finally got home, I quickly ate some leftovers while I waited for the bathtub to fill up. I knew I needed to start taking extra steps to keep my body happy if I was going to make it through this season. I was doing ok so far - seeming to have no pain or inflammation present in my joints. I knew that could change at any time. Especially once we really got going in rehearsals. I was already dreading the Latin dances. I knew that the knee and hip pain would start quickly with those. The foot pain would come soon enough. The dance shoes always got that going, which was why I hadn’t worn any during rehearsals yet. I had planned to limit those as much as possible. After I finished eating, I took all my daily supplements that I had forgotten that morning, then got into the tub to relax. 

I found my thoughts drifting back to Dieter, remembering how the blue color of the dress shirt he had on this morning looked amazing against his skin. Then I remembered how my attention was drawn to his exposed forearms – to his tattoos peeking out and the way the muscles flexed as he moved his hands when he spoke. As the day went on, I began having a ridiculous urge to touch his hair. That started while we were outside the studio, leaning against his car. The soft waves were gently blowing in the breeze begging to have my fingers run through them. He was so effortlessly handsome and clearly lacked the confidence to go with it, which was surprising to me. 

Then my thoughts jumped to a shirtless Dieter from the day before. I suddenly felt that familiar throb between my thighs. Fucking hell, don’t go there Kat. I was tempted to let my mind continue down that path, but I knew it would be wrong. I couldn’t entertain those thoughts, no matter how good I thought he looked. Especially if I wanted to establish a legitimate friendship with him. I sighed and dunked myself under the water for a moment, hoping that would clear my head. It didn’t. I got out of the tub and went to bed frustrated. 

I awoke to the sound of pounding on the front door. Glancing at the clock, it was close to 1 AM. I sighed and got out of bed. As I got closer to the door, I could hear Alec drunkenly rambling to let him in. I was half tempted to leave his ass out there. When I opened the door, he stumbled inside, hugging me against him and almost pulling both of us to the floor.

I pushed him off me, “Alec…what the fuck?”   

He blew his beer laden breath across my face as he spoke in a slur, “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t wanna drive home. I was at the bar up the street with the guys…I can’t find my phone.” 

“You realize we have a group rehearsal in the morning, right?” 

He waved his hand at me like it was no big deal and stumbled off toward the bedroom, collapsing on the bed, fully dressed. This was a good reminder as to why we hadn’t moved in together yet. I huffed, moving to take his shoes and clothes off while he mumbled something about wanting to fuck before fully passing out. Once I got him situated, I crawled into bed and settled in for a night of restless sleep. 

Alec woke me before my alarm went off, kissing down my neck. I admittedly was still a little worked up from the night before, so I went with it. I briefly stopped him, reaching into the nightstand for a condom. He rolled his eyes in protest as I handed it to him, but I wasn’t taking any chances. He put the condom on before flipping me over, pulling my hips up to meet him, then pulling my shorts down so he could roughly take me from behind. He didn’t last long, and I got no satisfaction from it. When he was done, he got into the shower without a word. This dismissive behavior wasn’t out of the ordinary for him, but something felt different. I felt like he was staking his claim, reminding me that I belonged to him. I suddenly hated myself for allowing it to happen like that. It made me feel dirty somehow.  

After he was showered and dressed, he gave me a quick kiss on the forehead and said he would see me at group rehearsals. I nodded, watching him as he walked out of the bedroom. He seemed off, but I couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was just a bad hangover and everything else was all in my head. 

Wednesdays were always the worst. Every week, the professional dancers did a group performance at the start of the show. I really wished they wouldn’t do these because it just added more to our plate. Luckily the first few weeks were not as bad since we still had so many cast members to take up airtime. The burden of the extra performances would increase as more groups were voted off. Eventually, the celebrities would be added to the group performances. I wasn’t looking forward to that as we progressed through the competition. Since it was the first week, this rehearsal went fast, and it was fairly easy. Alec struggled through it, clearly hung over from the night before, but I didn’t feel bad for him.

After five hours of rehearsals with the professional cast, I had to rush to grab a late lunch. I didn’t have much time before meeting with Dieter for our late afternoon rehearsal. When I arrived at the dance studio, Dieter was there waiting. He was laying on the floor, his head propped on his bag with a tablet sitting on his chest. His eyes met mine as he smiled up at me. 

“What are you doing?” I asked through a chuckle. 

He grabbed the tablet and quickly sat up, “I hope you don’t mind…but I pulled up some videos last night to get some ideas.” 

I don’t know why this surprised me. I figured he would leave most of the choreography to me. However, I loved that he was trying. He looked a little sheepish as he asked if he could show me a couple of things. I smiled and nodded as I sat on the floor beside him, mirroring the way he was sitting, with my legs stretched out in front of me. He gave me a shy smile as he turned on his tablet, “Don’t laugh, but I made a playlist and saved them.” I didn’t laugh, but I couldn’t help smiling at him. I watched as he opened the YouTube app to the ‘home’ tab. He quickly tapped on the ‘foxtrot’ playlist, but not before I saw my name in the title of a video under the ‘watch history’ section. I could feel my heart rate pickup as he glanced over at me, fighting a shy smile. 

“Yeah, I saw that…you watching videos of me, Bravo?” I asked with a teasing tone.

He shrugged, still trying not to smile as his cheeks flushed, “I watched a lot of videos from previous seasons. You may have been in one or two of them.” 

“Mmmhmm. Right.” 

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Anyway…I was thinking what we have so far feels almost mechanical…if that makes sense?” He’s not wrong. Dieter glanced at me; his dark eyes rounded as he took in my expression. I think he was worried it would upset me. 

I pursed my lips, “I don’t disagree with that. Thank you for pointing it out.”

His shoulders relaxed, “Ok, good. I was afraid that would piss you off.” 

I rolled my eyes, “It takes a lot more than that to piss me off. I always want you to be open about what you’re feeling. Besides, I didn’t think it felt right either. So…what are you thinking?” 

He inhaled deeply before launching into his thoughts, “Well, I think we need to add some emotion to it to start…nothing too crazy…I’ve saved a few videos. I think if we can find a good balance in the emotion and feel of all these dances it would be perfect. I don’t mind doing a little acting with it.”  

He had picked some very good examples. The first few videos showed professional choreography infused with different dance styles. The last few included a lot of acting and storytelling with the dancers' movements and were more toward the sensual side of things. During the last few videos, I could see the tension in his face. He was worried it would bother me. It didn’t of course since this was what dancing was about. I, however, was concerned about what that meant for me emotionally. It was going to require a lot of trust and a deeper connection that I usually didn’t have with my dance partners on the show. There was also the tiny issue of me finding Dieter Bravo to be incredibly attractive. 

Once the last video ended, I glanced up at him. “You're ok with doing that kind of stuff?”  

His eyebrows shot up, “I mean, maybe not that intense. Those...are a lot… but I’m comfortable with whatever you're comfortable with.”  

I nodded, surprised of his willingness to try something different. “You know…our song has sort of a jazzy sound. Maybe we can infuse some jazz elements into it?”

Dieter’s eyes lit up at that suggestion, “I’m actually digging that idea.”

“Ok…well, this dance isn’t gonna figure itself out. Let’s get going.” I stood, “We need to make sure we stretch more going forward because it’s about to get a lot harder on our bodies. You’re probably about to hate me.” 

He looked worried as I told him to lay back flat on the floor and moved to help him with some leg stretches - leaning against him to push back on his leg first with it straight in the air then against his knee to push it into his chest. He whined and groaned through it the entire time. After completing the same steps with his other leg, I had him sit up and put his feet flat together in front of him in a butterfly pose. I took the same position in front of him, keeping his legs in place with my knees and pulled him forward by his hands. He again began whining through it. I had to appreciate that he didn’t make it awkward like most people did, but it was near impossible not to laugh at his dramatic behavior. We went through several more partner stretches, both of us trying to keep it together as his dramatics increased with each new stretch. 

By the time we were done with the stretches, Dieter was already breaking out in a sweat. He gave me the stink eye and huffed as he got up off the floor, “I’m fairly certain that could be classified as some form of torture.”  

I laughed, “Stop being a drama queen. We’ve gotta keep those hips loose or you won’t make it through the Latin dances.” 

He raised an eyebrow at me, “I have loose hips?” 

I chuckled, “Surprisingly, yes.”

He smirked, “I take it that’s a good thing?” 

I nodded, smiling back at him, “It’s good for a lot of things.” I did not just say that.

“For dancing…it’s good for a lot of different dance moves. There’s umm…a lot of hip thrusting…in Latin dances, is what I mean.” Fucking hell, Kat. Shut up. 

The longer I rambled, the bigger his smile got. I could feel the heat creeping up my neck and into my cheeks. “I’m just gonna stop there. That came out so wrong.”  

Dieter laughed, “It’s kind of cute when you're flustered.” 

I put my hands on my hips and blew a strand of hair out of my face, “Just…shut up.” He snorted, shaking his head at me as I moved to stand in the center of the room. “Alright, let’s focus and get this figured out.” 

He made his way over to me, still trying to hold in his chuckles while I ignored him and moved to stand in position. I tilted my head and arched my brows. I now had my serious face on, needing to move past that minor embarrassment. “Let’s go through what we have so far. Ok?”   

From that point on, the both of us were all business. Dieter was laser focused and I found that we collaborated well together. As the minutes ticked on, he seemed to be more comfortable expressing his thoughts about the routine, however, I could tell he was still holding back when it came to physical closeness. He would hesitate anytime he had to touch anywhere outside of my arms or waist.  

“Dieter, I really need for you to get over this physical contact phobia, ok? I’m telling you now, it’s ok to touch me while we’re dancing.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a controlled breath, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I’m just trying to be respectful, and this kind of goes against all that.” 

I placed both of my hands on his cheeks and squished them together causing his plump lips to pucker slightly. His eyes popped open and focused on me in shock, “I promise, I’ll give you a warning before I throat punch you if I feel like you're being inappropriate…k.”  

I patted the side of his face with my right hand, then pulled away. His eyes rounded as he stared at me, unblinking, “Is that supposed to be comforting? Because it isn’t.” 

A small chuckle bubbled out as I took in his expression. His puppy eyes were in full effect. I both hated and loved when he looked at me like that. It made me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling. 

I smirked, “I’m joking, I won’t throat punch you, but I will smack you if I think it’s necessary.” 

His brow furrowed as he shook his head, snorting out a small laugh, “Oh… okay. That’s sooo much better.” 

Rolling my eyes at him, I moved to our starting position. 

“Alright, stop your whining. Let’s take it from the top with what we have so far.” 

Dieter nodded and stepped closer, setting his frame, and taking hold of me. He was still too far away. I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes on him, sighing as I stepped even closer to his front so that we were in a proper closed position. He gave me a tight smile before looking off to the left. I began counting our steps as we moved around the room in perfect synchronization until Dieter’s timing faltered. We kept going, but I could feel his posture changing. I glanced over at him and realized his jaw was tense. 

“Is something wrong?” I asked without stopping. 

He kept going, not looking in my direction as he said, “It appears we have an audience.” 

During a reverse turn, I glanced toward the hallway windows - instantly finding the cause of his disturbance. Alec was watching us. His piercing gaze made me feel uneasy. What is his fucking problem? 

“Just keep going and ignore him. You’re not doing anything wrong…box turn, then promenade.” 

Dieter inhaled deeply following through on those instructions before moving to lead me into an inside turn. As we reached the end of the choreography that we had so far, I glanced toward the windows. Alec was gone. 

My eyes met Dieter’s, “Let’s take a water break.”

He nodded before pulling the hem of his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. I couldn’t help the way my eyes raked over his exposed skin. I had to force myself to turn away from him as I drank from my water bottle. 

“Alec doesn’t like me, does he?” Dieter asked from behind me before taking a drink of his own water.

I casually turned to him, “He’s concerned about your womanizing ways. I guess he’s worried you're gonna steal me away from him or something.”  

Dieter smirked, “I mean, I would never do anything you didn’t want me to…”

My brows arched in surprise at his words. I absolutely can’t handle him saying shit like that to me. I could already feel the effects of his words and that devilish smirk pulsing between my thighs. 

Dieter was quick to add, “That did not come out the way I meant it…” He shook his head and laughed nervously as he raked his hair back out of his face, “I just mean…I respect you too much to do anything like that. Your friendship is important to me. I don’t wanna ruin it by being a dick…and I’m not that guy anymore. Besides, he should trust you. You’ve been nothing but professional.” 

Friendship...I actually kind of hate that word. A crease formed between my brows as I looked down at the floor, “Yeah, well…you can’t tell him that apparently. Just don’t pay any attention to him. He’s being ridiculous over nothing. I’ll tell him to knock it off.” 

“Hey.” He was standing directly in front of me now as I looked up to meet his gaze. His obsidian eyes were burning into mine, nearly taking my breath away. “If I’m doing something to make things harder on you, please tell me. I can tell this is causing tension between you two.”  

I gave him a weak smile, “The fact that you even exist is enough to bother him. You’re not doing anything, so don’t stress about it.” 

His lips were set in a tight line as he studied my face, taking in my words. He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded and dropped the subject. We continued with building our routine for the next hour. Then our studio time was up for the day. 

By the time Friday rolled around, we pretty much had our routine planned out. It was a ‘behind the scenes’ filming day, so we had to put up with the camera crew being in our space as we ran through the full routine to the music for the first time. We also had to periodically stop to film their interview questions. The questions were beyond frustrating - mostly focusing on our chemistry and how well we worked together. It was clear they were trying to drive a certain narrative and were not getting what they wanted from us. I could tell Dieter had picked up on it too based on the looks he was shooting my way. It felt like such a waste of our time. Once we got rid of the film crew, we managed to complete a few run-throughs with the music without error. We were both feeling pretty good about it. However, Dieter admitted that his nerves were starting to flare up as we got closer to show day. He looked vulnerable at that moment, and I just wanted to pull him into a hug. Instead, I settled for a quick squeeze of the hand and told him everything would be ok because we would get through it together. That seemed to calm him some. 

Dieter’s POV This week had gone by in a blur. I attributed it to enjoying the time that I was spending with Kat. She and I were working so well together. I couldn’t recall ever having such a positive or productive experience with someone in a work setting. We were both clearly more comfortable around each other now. She was quick witted with her banter and often kept me on my toes with her jokes. I loved that we had a similar sense of humor. During the more serious moments, we worked together with such intense focus that it was almost like we shared a single brain - often on the same wavelength and anticipating what the other was saying before they said it. She was very receptive to any suggestions I had and often praised me for my involvement with crafting the routine, which only made me want to do more. There was nothing more satisfying than seeing her face light up when she liked one of my suggestions.   

As the week progressed and the dancing got more intense, Kat was going heavy on stretches to start the day. While it was torture, the partner stretches were quickly becoming one of my favorite things to do. I made sure to bust out the dramatics just to make her laugh. God, I loved hearing her laugh. I also didn’t mind the close proximity that some of the stretches put us in. When she made the comment about me having “loose hips” being good for a lot of things I was a little stunned. Her descent into embarrassment afterward was so fucking adorable. It was hard not to wonder if she had thought about me like that. Was it a Freudian slip? This was a thought that kept creeping in when I would least expect it and caused me to think all sorts of inappropriate things. Especially when she would give me that look that was somewhere between teasing and flirting that made my dick twitch. The logical part of my brain kept reminding me of that big shiny rock on her finger. The wishful side hoped that she did indeed feel something for me. 

The feelings that I was having were very complicated and I wasn’t sure how to navigate them. Alec was adding a whole other layer to things with his possessiveness over Kat. The guy honestly worried me a little bit, so I was determined to be on my best behavior when it came to her no matter what my emotions said. I didn’t want to give him any reason to do something stupid, because my gut told me he was that type that would.   

Sunday was our last rehearsal for the week in the dance studio. We spent our hours fine tuning things with the music the best we could without hearing the live band’s version of the song. Kat warned me that we may have to make last minute adjustments during the dress rehearsal, which was stressing me out a little. It just gave more room for me to fuck something up once we got the live show. Kat seemed surprisingly calm about the whole thing. Then again, she had been doing this for years. Her confidence in me did help alleviate some of the anxiety I was starting to feel, but not all of it.

After rehearsals, we made our way to Television City Studios. It was spray tan day for the entire cast. This was one of the things that I was not looking forward to. Upon arrival, I made my way to my dressing room to get undressed down to my boxer briefs and threw on the robe that was provided. I followed the robe clad group toward a big open room where everyone waited their turn. I quickly found Kat scrolling through her phone in the far corner, away from the crowd. I went to wait with her since I hadn’t really met any of the other cast members yet. We stood chatting as Alec and Lana slowly walked down the hallway; eyes fixed on each other as they shared a smile. Lana reached out to hook her arm with his, but once he noticed Kat, he pulled away from her and walked toward us. Yeah asshole, I see you.  

Alec was quick to wrap himself around Kat, putting his body between us as he did so. Alright man, I get it. You think you own her. He attempted to make small talk but was coming off as an arrogant asshole as he bragged about how great of a dance teacher he was. Kat honestly looked embarrassed by him. As I stood listening, a production assistant walked by. I took the opportunity to interrupt Alec to ask the PA what sort of spray tan they were using. The PA gave me a look of annoyance, “What does it matter?” she asked with a rude tone. Damn, who pissed in your cheerios this morning. 

“It matters because I don’t want a bunch of chemicals sprayed on me. That shit can cause a disruption in cellular metabolic processes…it can be carcinogenic. Is it all natural?” I had a slight irritation to my tone.

Her brow furrowed, “You’re worried about a spray tan when you used to do coke, LSD, and who knows what else? Is this a joke?” My eyes widened at her response. Ok. That’s probably a fair question. 

I sensed Kat was about to say something, but Alec stopped her. I gave the PA a sarcastic smile, “Well, I’ve gotta live a clean life now to make up for all that damage I did. Humor me, please.”

The PA rolled her eyes, “Yes, we use an all-natural certified organic spray tan solution. So, you're safe from the carcinogens.” She said that last bit with a snippy tone. I should be used to being talked to like this by now, but it still pissed me off. 

“Thank you, that’s all you had to say.”  

I heard Alec laugh as he turned his back toward me to talk to Kat, effectively dismissing me from the conversation. I could tell Kat wanted to say something to me, but he was blocking her from doing so as he asked her if she was free tonight. 

Another PA with a clipboard approached me at that point to let me know it was my turn. I gave Kat a tight smile as I was led into the large room that was set up with individual pop-up privacy tents for cast members to step into to remove their robes and get sprayed. 

Once I was finished, I went directly to my dressing room. My good mood had been soured by the PA’s comment and Alec being a jackass. I sat down in the chair in front of the vanity wondering what Alec and Kat’s relationship was actually like on a good day. I didn’t get good vibes from the guy. I really hoped that he treated her ok. She deserved that.   

I was drawn from my thoughts by a knock on the door, “Come in.” 

Kat came through the door, looking behind her as she entered. I assumed to check if anyone was around to see her enter my dressing room. When she finally turned to face me, she paused, taking in my state of undress with wide eyes. I was still wearing the robe and boxer briefs. I now realized the robe was no longer closed, “Oh shit…sorry,” I mumbled as I stood from the chair and tied it shut. I didn’t care if she saw me like this, I was used to it, but I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. 

She let out a breathy laugh, “No, you're fine. I just wasn’t expecting…that.” 

I chuckled, “Sorry, I’m used to being in various stages of undress on set…I don’t even think about it anymore. I’ll try to keep my clothes on around you.” 

Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip to hold back a smile as she continued to stare at me for a beat, eventually clearing her throat to speak, “Umm…I-I just wanted to come check on you. That PA was kind of an asshole.”  

I waved my hand, “Don’t even worry about it. I’m not.” I’m more bothered by Alec. 

She nodded, “Ok, good…yeah, don’t let that get to you. It’s not worth it.” She shifted her weight and stuck her hands in her back pockets, “How are you feeling about tomorrow?” 

Moving to lean against the vanity, I huffed out a small laugh and scratched at the back of my neck as I stared at the ugly gray stained carpet, “Honestly, I’m nervous as fuck…but…I know you won’t let me mess up too badly.”  You make everything ok. 

My eyes flicked up to meet hers. We stared at each other in silence for a moment. I felt like there was a weird electricity in the air between us. I really wanted to reach out and touch her, to hug her, but I knew that wasn’t a good idea. 

Her lips finally broke into a small smile, “Don’t worry Bravo, I’ve got you. I think you’ll do just fine. You’re better than you think.” 

She turned on her heel to move toward the door, “Well, I’m gonna head home…try and relax and get some rest. We have an early start and it’s gonna be a long day.” 

“You mean you’re not going out with Alec?” I blurted out the question without thinking, like it was any of my damn business what they were doing.  

Kat shook her head, “No, he wanted to go out with some other castmates. I’m not about that kind of lifestyle these days. I have to rest…and he knows that.” 

It made me happier than it should have to know she wouldn’t be spending the evening with Alec. I knew that I shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts, they were engaged for fucks sake. They were going to spend time together whether I wanted them to or not. I really needed to get my thoughts under control before this became an issue. 

I pursed my lips, nodding as I forced a smile, “I’ll see you in the morning then. Have a good evening.”

She seemed reluctant as she nodded and reached for the doorknob, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

A short time after I got home, I couldn’t stop thinking about how Kat had gone out of her way to come check on me. Most people wouldn’t bother to do that these days, not that I blamed them. I didn’t deserve anyone’s concern after the way I treated people when I was deep in my addiction. I had to make sure I didn’t fuck this up with her. I sank down into the sofa as I unlocked my phone and pulled up Kat’s number. I started typing a text message and hit send before I could second guess myself. 

Dieter: Thank you for checking in with me. I should have said that earlier. I appreciate it more than you know. I don’t have a lot of people in my life that would do that right now.

I watched as the message status changed to ‘read’. The bubbles started bouncing, telling me that she was typing something, then stopped. That happened a few more times before her response came through. 

Kat: You don’t have to thank me for that. I’ll always check in with you. That’s what friends are for.  

Seeing the word “friend” was sort of a punch in the gut, but I needed that. It helped get my head back where it should be. However, that word also meant that she viewed me as more than just a castmate, which was somewhat comforting. At least I could have a friendship with her. It was more than I had with anyone else at the moment. I decided to push all those thoughts aside and head to bed early before I lost my focus.

My alarm went off at 6 AM the following morning. After a quick shower, I threw on some gym clothes and headed to the local coffee shop. I wasn’t about to try and sustain myself with whatever it was that Craft Services was handing out. I picked up a cup for Kat too, since I now knew how she liked it. I pulled into Television City Studios parking with minutes to spare before we had to be in the ballroom to meet with the band, lighting team, and the cinematographer. We had to make sure the music was right, discuss the lighting scheme, and determine camera blocking for our performance.

As I walked in, I spotted Kat already chatting with the music director and walked over to greet her, handing her coffee over as I stood at her side. They were discussing the tempo of our song to make sure the band hit the mark with it since it had so many variations. As Kat talked, she looped her hand through my arm and gave it a squeeze. I assumed she could sense my anxiety and it did help alleviate it some. As we went through the details, I noticed other cast members starting to file in and sit around the dance floor.  

Once Kat was done going over everything with the band and lighting, Alec came over to offer her some coffee. She gave him a tight smile as she held up her cup, “I’m good, but thanks.” 

His brow furrowed, “Alright, maybe Lana will want it then.” What a fucking dick. 

I felt like he was purposely trying to throw her off her game with that comment. She watched him with narrowed eyes as he walked off toward a small crowd of cast members. I could see her jaw muscles flex before her eyes met mine, “Alright, we’re gonna do a quick run through with the band. There are 18 cameras, so they’ll work on adjusting those as we go through it. If we need to make changes, they’ll let us know. We’ll come back later for the dress rehearsal and run through it a few more times with everything in place.” 

I took a deep breath and nodded. She leaned in to meet my gaze with a small smile, “Hey, we’ve got this. Don’t worry.” 

She reached down and grabbed my hand, pulling me over to our starting mark. As the band began playing, I was already thrown off by how different the music sounded from the track that was provided to us. I think Kat could sense it as she quietly called out some verbal cues at the start. Once we got going, I was on track and made it through the routine with only a few small errors. 

Luckily, there were no last-minute suggested changes to the routine. I’m not sure if I would have retained it if there had been. We had another quick discussion with the producers about the lighting before they cleared us for hair and makeup.  

I suddenly felt like all eyes were on us as we exited the ballroom. It was a little unnerving. Kat leaned in, “Ignore them, they’re just sizing up their competition. There are pros and cons to going first.” 

I chuckled nervously, “And what exactly is a pro for going first?” 

“We don’t have to deal with a frustrated production team. Trust me, they turn into assholes real fast dealing with this bunch.” 

I laughed, “Yeah, that makes sense. How do they decide the order?” 

She smiled, “Well, I got here first this morning…”

I nodded, “So that should be our goal then? Get here first. Got it.” 

The rest of the morning was a blur. Kat and I spent hours in hair and makeup getting poked and prodded at. Luckily this time, we were seated next to each other so we could at least chat through it - mostly focusing on our routine. Once that was finally finished, we headed back to our individual dressing rooms where our costumes were waiting for us. After getting changed, we met back up outside the ballroom to go in for dress rehearsals. Kat looked amazing of course, but I did prefer her more natural look. They had slathered so much makeup and hair gel on the both of us we looked like completely different people. She joked that it was going to take multiple washings to get all the gel out of our hair. I was already not looking forward to going through that process. 

As we walked toward the dance floor for our first run through in costume, I couldn’t help but notice the amount of exposed skin Kat’s gown was showing. I realized for the first time that my hands would be on her bare skin while we were dancing. It was both thrilling and anxiety inducing. I had to quickly shove that thought aside because it threatened to completely derail my focus.

We went through our routine several more times. By the last run through with the music, cameras, and lighting in place, I was feeling more confident about everything. Kat took a minute to give me a small pep talk before she had to run off to change costumes for the group rehearsal. I had to give her credit; she had been very patient with me. She made sure to take time to explain each step of the process to help ease my anxiety. She had been very positive and encouraging as we worked through it all.  

I sat and watched the group rehearsal while I waited for my final fitting time slot with the wardrobe department. The performance was some sort of Latin style dance. Kat did amazingly well. I couldn’t take my eyes off her rhythmic hip movements as she whirled around the floor in time to the beat. I had to chastise myself for looking at her in that way, but it was hard not to. She was electric and commanded the attention of the room above everyone else. 

Stacia stood nearby, watching the performance, just as she had been for all of them so far. However, I was now noticing her occasional glances in my direction. As she was moving toward the other end of the dance floor, she stopped in front of me, “Kat is on fire today. I’m not sure I’ve seen her do this well in a while. I take it that things are going well with the two of you?”

I felt the crease form between my brows as confusion etched my face. What is she actually asking me? “Yeah, I mean…we work well together. She’s a good teacher.”

Stacia narrowed her eyes slightly at my response, then smirked, “Right, you’ve said that.” Fuck. Did I just tip her off on something? I felt like she could see through me as she turned and walked away. Surely, she didn’t think something was going on between Kat and me? I sighed and turned my attention back to the group performance, hoping I didn’t just have a serious fuck up.     

As I watched the third run through for the group, I realized something. Kat had been partnered to dance with Alec, which wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was the vibe between the two of them. It seemed different from the videos that I had watched of their competitions. Her face was expressionless. There was no longer a fiery look behind her eyes as they moved together - almost like there was no connection between them. Maybe she was just focused on getting the choreography correct. They hadn’t practiced the group routine that much after all. That had to be it, right? I couldn’t allow myself to think that it was any other reason. 

After their last run through, Kat walked off the dancefloor, directly over to me to get her water bottle. After taking a long drink, she turned to me, “We need to get to wardrobe for our final fittings. They’ll have our heads if we’re late.”   

I followed behind Kat toward the wardrobe department. She had to pop into her dressing room to grab her other costume on the way. They took us to the back as soon as we walked in. The tailor that we had worked with before, Amy, gave Kat a once over. They both seemed satisfied with her first costume, so Kat went to the changing room to switch to the black gown she would be wearing for our performance. While Kat was changing, Amy turned her attention to me, “Well, your buttons don’t seem to be hanging on for dear life this time, so I think we should be good. Do the pants feel ok? Not too tight?” 

I shook my head, “No everything feels like it fits perfectly. Thank you for making the size adjustments.” Amy seemed proud of herself as she gave me one last look over. Kat returned in her gown minutes later.

“Does everything feel ok on this one Kat?” Amy asked as she stood back to look over the fit of the gown.  

“Yeah, it fits like a glove. Perfect as always. I do have a request though…would it be possible to get a lower heel for both costumes?”

Amy’s brow furrowed, “You know production won’t be happy if you have different shoes for the group performance. Do you not wanna wear regulation heel height?”

Kat sighed, “Fine, I’ll keep the ones for group, but I would like lower ones to go with the gown. If we can try to keep them lower for the rest of the season as much as possible that would be great.”

Amy gave her a sympathetic look, “Are you having foot pain already?”

Kat huffed out a laugh, “No... not yet, but I’m trying really hard to avoid it as much as I can.” 

Amy nodded before disappearing to the back. 

I knew Kat could see the confusion on my face when she glanced up at my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t understand what they were talking about. “Everything ok?”  

She gave me a tight smile, “Did you know that for every inch added to heels, the weight on the pad of your foot increases by 25%. Regulation heel height for ballroom is two and a half inches…for Latin it's three. Heels change your gait and the way you move. I have arthritis in my feet, knees, and hips. The heels and Latin dances really do a number on me because I’m too fucking old to be doing this. So, I’m trying to be proactive before it gets too bad to dance.”   

Suddenly everything made sense. My mouth fell open in shock. Fuck. I had no idea. “That’s why this is your last season?” 

She nodded, “Yep. I’m retiring from competitive dancing.” 

I could tell this wasn’t an easy decision. I could see how much she loved dancing. My heart was aching for her. That would be like me giving up acting. Just the thought of doing that freaked me the fuck out. 

I gave her a devilish smile, “Well, that settles it then. We’re gonna win this fucking competition. You’re going out on top.”

She laughed, grabbing my hand to pull me in for a quick side hug, “Thank you…for trusting me to be your partner.” 

I pulled her in closer for a tight hug, realizing she had multiple meanings behind her words. I could feel my chest tighten as I worked to steady my emotions. It seemed that both of us had demons to battle. As we pulled away, Amy appeared from the back with a different pair of shoes for Kat, “Best I can do is a one and a half inch. We don’t have a lot of lower heels on hand.” 

Kat took the shoes from her, “That’s perfect, I’ll take them. Thank you.”  

After we finished with Amy, we stopped in hair and makeup for quick touch ups. While we were getting touched up, I could tell Kat was starting to get nervous, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly as she looked up at the clock on the wall.

I glanced her way, “You good?” 

She chuckled, “Yeah, I always get a little pre-show jitters. It’ll pass. It’s 3:40…They’ll be bringing the audience in now. It’s almost time.” 

I pursed my lips then laughed, “You can’t be nervous. It’s gonna make me nervous.” 

She reached her hand across the space between the chairs, I grabbed it in mine so she could give it a comforting squeeze as she looked at me intently, speaking in a low voice, “You have no reason to be nervous. You’ve got this. After seeing some of the rehearsals, I honestly think you're one of the best on the cast this season. At least in the top three.”

I rolled my eyes and chuckled, “Yeah, whatever. You’re just lubing me up.”

She gave me a toothy grin and laughed, “No, I’m serious.” 

Alec and Lana’s reflection caught my attention in the mirror as they walked into the room. I dropped Kat’s hand and gave her a small smile. Alec approached us from behind, walking around Kat’s chair to lean down and give her a quick kiss, “You look beautiful, baby. Good luck out there. Your dress rehearsal looked great.”

Kat’s brows arched as she chewed on the inside of her cheek, “Thank you. You too.” She gave him a small smile, but it looked forced. Alec moved to sit at the empty station beside Lana, but I could tell he was watching us through the mirror. Kat didn’t say much after that, not until we were finished and walking toward the dressing rooms so she could change back into her group performance costume. 

I waited for her in the hallway - going through the routine in my head as I stood there. It was only a few minutes before Kat joined me with her phone and wired earbuds in hand. As she walked over to me, I noticed she was looking down the hallway with an annoyed expression, I laughed quietly, “What’s wrong?”  

“Anika is looking at you like you’re a fresh piece of meat.” 

“Oh?” I turned in the direction Kat had been looking. Sure enough, there was a short blonde giving me a flirty smile. I gave her something between a grimace and smile back as I turned toward Kat, “Yeah, sorry about her luck. That’s not happening.” 

Kat laughed, “Why? Not your type?”

I shook my head, “No, not anymore. I don’t date party girls. Actually, I’m taking a hiatus from dating at the moment. They recommended that in rehab. At least until I’m sure I have my shit together.”  

Kat arched a brow in my direction, “So you haven’t…dated…anyone since you went to rehab…eight months ago?

I scratched at the back of my neck nervously, “Since before that. It’s been like eleven months since I hooked up with anyone.” 

She was now raising both eyebrows at me, “Hooked up?” 

I grimaced, “Yeah, I didn’t really do the whole relationship thing before. I was kind of a mess and an asshole.”

She chuckled, “I’m sure you broke a lot of hearts.”

I sucked air in through my teeth, “Ehhh…Doubtful. Most of them were just as fucked up as me. They were usually trying to get something outta me…money, fame…the list goes on. It’s part of the reason I have a hard time trusting people.”  

Kat was giving me an intense look now. It was that look that made my stomach do flips and my heart race in my ears. I could feel the electricity crackling between us again. 

“But you trust me?” More than anyone. 

I waited a beat to answer as my eyes roamed over her face, “Yeah...I do.” 

Joe and Stacia chose that moment to walk by, yelling out a 20-minute warning to start time. Stacia gave us a wide smile as they continued past us. I looked back at Kat, now realizing how closely we were standing. I backed away slightly as we gave each other an awkward smile. 

“We should probably head to the staging area.” I nodded and followed closely behind her. 

Before I knew it, the show was starting. I stood in the staging area, watching the group performance. Kat of course did the routine to perfection. Once they were finished, she had to run off to change. Luckily our performance was toward the end of the show, so she didn’t have to rush. I sat watching the show until she reappeared at my side, smiling and breathless. I gave her a lopsided grin, “You did amazing.” Her cheeks flushed at the compliment before she murmured a quiet “Thank you.” 

She busied herself with untangling her corded earbuds. As I watched her, I had to appreciate that she didn’t use the wireless kind. Once she had them untangled, she handed one of them to me. I gave her a confused look, “I like to listen to music to get hyped up before performances. It helps with the nerves.” I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. This was something I often did while filming to get into character. 

I stuck the bud in my ear just as the familiar opening beats of Lose Yourself started playing. I glanced up at her, “Eminem…really?”   

She gave me a toothy grin, nodding before she started bobbing her head to the music. I laughed, following her lead. She grabbed my hands, shaking my arms and forcing me to move in time with her to the beat as she started quietly mouthing the words. If her goal was to distract me, it was working. By the time the song ended, it was nearly our turn. We stood bouncing on our feet to keep the energy going until it was time for us to walk out onto the dance floor and take our places. 

I could hear the blood pulsing in my ears as we waited for the music to start - both of us breathing heavily in anticipation. The electricity between Kat and I only seemed amplified by the audience's excitement as we walked down the small set of steps to the opening notes, arm in arm. The moment I took her hand for the inside turn, something just clicked between us as we moved in perfect synchronization across the dance floor. Our connection felt differently than it had during rehearsals. The heat of her bare skin caused my fingertips to tingle as they slid down her back and sides. I could sense that Kat felt it too because her eyes were blazing from the energy passing between us. It was almost like we were moving as one. I found the intensity of the moment was strangely intoxicating.

I was in a daze as the performance came to an end. Kat quickly pulled me in for a hug as she jumped up and down while the crowd applauded loudly around us. The performance went by so quickly I didn’t even have time to think. It was more muscle memory than anything. All I could do was let out the breath I had been holding and smile down at her as we walked over to speak with the judges. 

The judges mostly gave compliments, noting that we had pulled off the elegance of the dance, making it seem effortless and magnetizing. One of them even commented on the electricity and connection between us. I guess I wasn’t the only one that felt it. The feedback they gave was that I needed to make sure I was holding my frame all the way through the performance. That didn’t surprise me as Kat was constantly calling me out me on it. Holding the frame absolutely wore my back out, so it was a struggle.

After getting the judges feedback, we moved over to the interview area to answer a few questions about our performance while we waited for the scores to be chosen and verified. Kat grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly as I rambled on about the challenges I had during rehearsal. As I finished answering the question, the host went back to the judges for scoring. They gave us three 8’s and one 7. It was the highest anyone had scored so far. I was in shock as Kat pulled me in for another hug.  

Once we were back in the staging area, I burst out laughing. I couldn’t believe it. Once I finally got it together, I glanced at Kat who was smiling at me. Her eyes were still bright with emotion as I grabbed her, pulling her in for another tight hug, “I cannot believe we just did that…you were so fucking amazing.”

She pulled away, still smiling, “You were too. I told you, you’re good at this. If we keep that up, I think we have a real chance of making it to finals.”    

I nodded, suddenly feeling much more confident about this whole thing. 

We stayed around to see how the last few performances went, letting the adrenaline burn off as we critiqued the competition. There were only two other couples who had scores near ours. Anika and her partner were a few points below us. Alec and Lana were tied with us. I could feel Kat tensing beside me as the judges read off Alec and Lana’s scores. I knew she had to be considering how those two being our biggest competition could affect things going forward. It would undoubtedly create even more tension between her and Alec. There was also the narrative of the show to consider. Kat and I both knew the executive producers would somehow use this to their advantage.  

Next: Week 3

A/N: Whew, we have soooooo much to unpack for this chapter. We had lots of bonding and some mild flirting with Dieter & Kat. You know I want to hear all your thoughts and thots about these two.

We had more shenanigans from Stacia and Joe. What do you think they are up to? Now we have Anika throwing some attention Dieter’s way. Then there is the Alec & Lana nonsense going on…and just Alec’s nonsense in general.

Also…Dieter is totally not being honest with his therapist AND he has a fucking cat now. 🤭

Of course they nailed their first performance. They are going to be a force to be reckoned with. Speaking of their performance, I’ve been watching A LOT of DWTS episodes and videos as I write this fic. So, for each week I’m going to share one or two videos that inspired Dieter & Kat’s performance for the chapter. This chapter’s inspiration is linked below. The first video is more of what I envisioned for their first dance. The second is a sexier foxtrot that would have had Dieter’s head spinning, but he’s totally down for it. Don’t worry, they will get there eventually.

✨More good stuff below the videos.✨

👉In case you missed it, head on over HERE to check out this amazing video that @survivingandenduring was kind enough to put together for Closed Position. It's hot and has all the Dieter & Kat ✨vibes✨. I’m still screaming over it!

👉I have started working on a playlist for Closed Position. I will be adding to it as inspiration strikes. I plan to add the songs used for Dieter & Kat's performances as we go along too.

Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @morallyinept @survivingandenduring  @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions @myloveistoolittle @for-a-longlongtime  @copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter @burntheedges @stevie75 @bunniboo0015 @quicax3 @jackie923 @sherala007 @pastelnap @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @jessthebaker @rebel-held @gwendibleywrites @pedrostories

*If your name is marked out, it wouldn’t let me tag you. ☹️

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments or shoot me a DM.

Credits: Support/MDNI Dividers: @cafekitsune Disco Divider: @deadbranch

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #dancing dieter #soft dieter #sober dieter #cat dad dieter #plant dad dieter

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

@morallyinept, I don’t think tumblr notified me of this tag. 😑

Thanks for including Closed Position on your list. 💜😘

A list of all my favourite DIETER BRAVO Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.

Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤

PART 5

⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.

Shoes - @morallyinept

Memories - @bitchesuntitled

Trinkets - @tightjeansjavi

Party Trick - @tightjeansjavi Featuring Ezra

Bite Me - @chronically-ghosted

How Dieter Jerks Off - @write-and-buried

I Hate That I Like You Series - @musings-of-a-rose

Dirt - @wannab-urs

Lost, Found - @sp00kymulderr

Tinseltown Triple - @gasolinerainbowpuddles MxMxM Featuring Frankie Morales & Ezra

Dieter Bravo & The Sundance Queen - @coulsons-fullmetal-cellist

God Do You Forgive Me? - @danispunk

Personal Shopping - @huntingingoodwill

I'll Never Fall In Love Again Series - @oonajaeadira

You Can Never Keep A Soul Series - @chronically-ghosted

SUV Shenanigans - @morallyinept

The Bow Tie - @morallyinept

Bad Acting - @morallyinept GN!Reader

A Poor Plan To Confess - @nerdieforpedro PlusSize!Reader

Conversation Pit - @thosewickedlovelies

House Arrest - @rulexofxnines

The One - @schnarfer

Taste You - @alwaysmicado

Scandal - @wannab-urs

The Howler Monkey - @covetyou

Closed Position Series - @mysterious-moonstruck-musings OFC

Cruel Summer - @fhatbhabie PlusSize!Reader

Purple Haze - @schnarfer Photographer!Dieter

On The Verge Of A Usual Mistake - @gasolinerainbowpuddles Featuring Lucien Flores

Down This Chain Of Days Series - @ghotifishreads

This Is The Way... To Your Pussy - @beskarandblasters

Notes With Dieter - @nerdieforpedro

Save Your Tears - @alwaysmicado

The Hotline - @absurdthirst

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo the bubble #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #fic love #jett's fic recs

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Closed Position: Week 1 (Introductions)

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

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

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

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

Chapter Word Count: 7.1K

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

Week 1 Quote: "Fuck. I might be in trouble."

Dieter’s POV

“Lenny, have you seen this fucking schedule? It’s seven days a week for twelve weeks. When do I get a break?” 

Lenny, my agent, sighed through the speaker phone, “D, I told you this was going to be a lot of work before you agreed to do it. You shouldn’t be surprised…and besides, that’s only if you make it to the finals.”

I scoffed, “Thanks for the vote of confidence…asshole.” Lenny chuckled on the other end of the line. We both went quiet for a moment as I continued to flip through the packet of paper that Lenny had sent over for review, “I don’t even get to have any say on the wardrobe or music. Such bullshit…sucking all the fun out of it. Did you at least drop a bug in their ear about who I’ll be partnered with? If I get stuck with someone I don’t want, I’m gonna be fucking miserable.” 

“I did, but the producers said they always do the partner matching themselves. They have a formula…or something. Maybe bring it up again at this morning's meeting and explain why. They may listen to you on it.” 

I huffed as my eyes continued skimming over the weekly schedule, “I have to get a fucking spray tan every week? You have GOT to be kidding me…Lenny, you know I don’t like using carcinogenic chemicals on my body.” 

“Uhhh, no comment on that…Look, I’ll put in a call and see if they can use something natural for that.” 

I relaxed some, “I would appreciate that. Thank you. Tell them I have an allergy or something…just make it happen.” 

I tossed the packet onto the table and picked up my phone, taking it off speaker and putting it to my ear - now pacing as I spoke, “Well, it looks like I’m gonna be pretty busy for a bit. That’ll be a nice distraction. It beats being locked inside the house at least.”  

Lenny hesitated, but still asked, “How are you doing with everything? Still managing ok?” 

I sighed, “Yeah, I mean I’m going to therapy and all the meetings still. I’ve been doing ok…just trying to keep the stress levels down. That’s what gets to me the most.” 

“How long has it been?”

I looked at the date on my watch, “Eight months today…actually. It’s the longest I’ve ever been clean, and I plan to stick to it this time. I’m feeling good and I want to keep it that way.” 

“Everyone is really proud of you, D. You know that, right? Keep at it and we'll have you back on top in no time.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, knowing that it was an uphill battle, “I appreciate that, but good luck getting people to change their opinion of me. I’m not sure if my reputation is salvageable at this point. Everyone seems to think my sobriety is some sort of joke. No one is taking it seriously.”

I could hear Lenny inhale deeply on the other end of the phone, “It’s just going to take time, D. Don’t give up yet.” 

I pursed my lips in thought, “Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I need to get ready for this meeting. We’ll talk later, yeah?”

“Yeah, definitely let me know how it goes.”  

Once I hung up the phone with Lenny, I took a quick shower, then spent longer than I should have staring at the clothes hanging in my closet - trying to pick something that says I have my shit together. My therapist kept reminding me that if I dressed like a slob, people were going to treat me like one. So, I was putting more effort into making myself presentable before I left the house these days. Since it was a work meeting, I went for a business casual look, figuring I couldn’t go wrong with that. After styling my hair and getting dressed, I grabbed my keys, phone, wallet, and sunglasses and headed out the front door.

As I approached my car, which was parked in the driveway, I noticed there was a dead bird on the hood. The fluffy gray, brown, and white stray cat that had been hanging around my house was sitting next to it, looking rather proud of himself. I sighed, “Come on dude, really?” And this is why I need to get the garage cleaned out. I hit the clicker to open the garage door so I could get a broom to knock the bird off the hood. As I waded through the mountain of empty boxes from my move six months ago, I cursed myself for taking my sweet time getting that stuff out of the house. Finally finding the broom, I quickly moved to get the dead bird off of the car and shooed the cat away. He didn’t look happy about it as he moved to sit on the pathway in front of the house, watching me until I was finally on my way to Television City Studios to meet with the producers of Dancing with the Stars. 

When I arrived at the studio, I was met by the two executive producers, Stacia and Joe and led into a conference room. I let them do their spiel about what’s expected and the schedule. Nodding along in all the right places, being as polite as possible even though I hated how little say I had over anything. Once they moved on to the topic of how they choose partners, I spoke up for the first time, “I would really like to have input on my partner.” They both moved to speak before I held up my hand to signal that I wasn’t finished talking. 

“Look, I know you all have your formula or whatever, but I have a legitimate reason for asking. As I’m sure you’re aware, I’ve been trying to clean up my image. I’ve been sober for eight months and I would really like to be placed with someone that doesn’t have a reputation for partying…someone who isn’t gonna be a negative influence on me. It’s actually really important to me because I’m actively avoiding being around anyone who is into that kind of lifestyle.” Which is why I spend most of my time alone.  

Stacia and Joe looked at each other, obviously surprised at my reasoning for the request. They were actually stunned into silence. Since neither of them said anything, I continued, “I had my team check into the dancers, and based on their recommendation…I’m requesting that Katarina Stamos be my partner. She has a good reputation and I’m also told she’s very professional and isn’t judgmental…because that’s been an issue here lately that I’d really like to not have to deal with.”

Stacia’s brow furrowed, “Are you looking to actually win? Because Kat hasn’t won a single season that she’s been with us.”

I narrowed my eyes on her. What an asshole thing to say about someone. “Well, maybe that’s because you keep giving her shitty partners.” 

I gave Stacia a sarcastic smile. She had the audacity to look offended by that statement. I had watched the show and seen the people Katarina was partnered with. It was always the older guys that could hardly move. Stacia’s attitude made me more determined to have Katarina as a partner just to prove a fucking point on her behalf. 

Joe interrupted the silent standoff that Stacia and I now seemed to be having, “Alright, let’s think about this…” He turned to Stacia, “Physically, they work together. Their height and proportions are a good match…and Kat is very patient. She would work well with him. Also, if he wishes to be with someone who isn’t into partying, Anika is not the person he needs to be with.”

Stacia looked frustrated and unwilling to give in as she glared at her counterpart. Joe smirked, “If you're worried about the change in narrative, it’s possible there may be other options we haven’t considered.” 

What the fuck does that mean? I leaned forward on my elbows, “What narrative?” 

They both turned to look at me, Stacia now had a sly smile on her face. It was Joe who answered, “We always consider the possible narratives that could come up between partners. How they’ll interact and get along personality wise. It’s an important factor for the show.”

I felt a crease form between my brows, “So basically, you try to manufacture drama for TV.”  

Joe shook his head, “Not exactly, I mean ultimately, yes. We just take personalities and such into account when we pair the dancers with their celebrities. I mean, we do want everyone to get along with their partner, obviously.”   

So, you’re fucking meddlers. Got it. I arched my brows, giving them a tight smile as I nodded, going along with what they were telling me. I now realized I would have to keep an eye on these two. I didn’t feel like they had my best interest in mind. Especially if they were initially planning to put me with the known party girl. 

I cleared my throat before speaking again, “So what does that mean…do I get to work with Katarina or not?” 

Stacia looked at me, now smiling, “I think that may actually be a good match now that I think about it. So yeah, we’ll let you work with Kat. Hopefully you’ll both make it through to finals.” 

What is this woman’s deal? Geez Louise. I eyed them both suspiciously for a moment, “Ok, good. Now I’m finally a little excited about this.”   

They went over a few more details about the schedule before taking me out to meet with a production assistant, who was tasked with giving me a tour of the building and showing me where my dressing room would be. This part of my day couldn’t end soon enough… 

Katarina’s POV

As I was pulling into the Television City Studios parking lot for the first day of my last season on Dancing with the Stars, my phone pinged with a text from Alec, my fiancée.

Alec: I finished up my meeting with production. Are you here? Have you had yours yet?

I leaned my head back against the seat. What the hell has he been doing? I know his meeting was over an hour ago.

Me: Just parked, I have mine in 10 minutes. I’m on my way in…Meet you in the lobby. 

A few minutes later, I found Alec in the lobby. He seemed more excited than he normally was on the first day as he greeted me with a quick kiss on the cheek. 

I leaned away from him, “What’s got you so smiley this morning?” I could tell he was trying to temper it down and have a more neutral expression on his face as he shrugged, “I didn’t realize I was. Guess I’m just excited to see you.” 

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. What are you hiding now you asshole. He didn’t know how well I could read him at this point. 

I arched a brow instead of returning his smile, “So, I assume you found out who your partner is gonna be?”

He continued his attempts at a neutral expression, “Yeah, Lana Thompson…she’s an actress, I think. There was apparently a last minute change to the lineup this morning. You know her?” 

I gave him a tight smile, “Yeah…I know her. She has a bit of a reputation…”  

He feigned ignorance, “Oh? I don’t know anything about her. I’m sure she’ll turn out to be one of those stuck up, bitchy types like the rest of ‘em. Ya know, you’re lucky it’s your last season so you don’t have to deal with these people anymore.” 

And there it is. He doth protest too much. He was excited to be paired with her, I could tell. He saw it as an opportunity. As far as I knew, he hadn’t strayed to another woman in some time, but that didn’t mean he had changed. He still hadn’t earned my trust back and his current excitement only made me more suspicious of his commitment. 

Alec could sense the tension taking hold of my body as he rubbed at my lower back, “Everything ok, baby?”

I gave him a half-hearted smile, “Yeah, just peachy. I’ve gotta go or I’m gonna be late. I’ll catch up with you after.” 

As I was walking down the hallway toward the conference room, I saw Lana Thompson exiting the bathroom. I suspected Alec had already met his partner and liked her more than he let on. Which probably explains why it took him as long as it did to text me. 

When I entered the conference room, Stacia and Joe sat huddled together. They seemed to be engrossed in whatever they were whispering about, but abruptly stopped talking once they realized I was lingering in the entryway. They both smiled, almost over enthusiastically as they welcomed me and motioned for me to have a seat. They studied me for a moment before Stacia finally spoke, “How are things going with you?” 

That’s an odd question and an odd tone. I wasn’t sure what kind of answer she was looking for, “It’s going good, why?” 

She gave me a small smile, “I know it’s your last season because you have things going on…but do you think you’re feeling up to the possibility of making it to finals?” 

I gave her a confused look, “What is that supposed to mean?” 

Joe leaned forward, “What Stacia is trying to say is…the person we have you partnered with this time is going to be a little more physically able than your usual partners. So, you may be in it for the full twelve weeks…if you can pull it off. Are you physically able to handle it?” 

Should I be offended by that? It’s not like I can’t function. It was just painful some days, especially when there were a lot of rehearsals. My joints couldn’t handle the Latin dances like they used to - the jerky movements exacerbating the inflammation and discomfort. That didn’t mean they had to treat me like a fragile porcelain doll though. 

I narrowed my eyes at them, “Of course I can handle it. I could handle it this entire time…which is why I’ve been asking for more capable partners.” 

Joe smiled, “Well, good. Maybe you can go out with a bang this season.” 

What the fuck was this about? I dug my teeth into my bottom lip as I tried to figure out their angle. There was always an angle with them, “Why do I feel like you’re trying to sell this to me?” 

Joe grimaced slightly. “We’re not trying to sell it, but we do worry you won’t be happy about it.” 

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back into the seat, “Who is it?” 

Stacia smirked, “It’s Dieter Bravo.”

I looked between the two of them, “You’re joking?” 

They shook their heads in unison. This didn’t make sense. Wouldn’t he be better suited with one of the girls that enjoyed a lifestyle similar to his? 

“What makes you think he and I will work well together? I know I have a lot of patience, but it does have its limits.” 

Joe chuckled, “His people requested you specifically. He’s actually eight months sober and they want him with someone who isn’t going to get him into trouble. He’s trying to clean up his image.” 

I scoffed, “I thought you didn’t let the celebrities have any say in who they’re partnered with?”

Joe leaned forward onto the table, “We don’t normally, but given his request and the reasons for it, we felt we should make an exception. We were thinking of putting him with you anyway.”

I shook my head, “You are aware of his reputation, right? Alec is gonna lose his shit over this.” 

Stacia smiled, “It’s not your or Alec’s choice. We run the show.”

It dawned on me then. Alec had said there was a last minute lineup change this morning and that’s why he was put with Lana. I had somehow managed to fly under the radar when it came to the producers' manufactured bullshit, but now I was right in the middle of it. They were making moves to create an underlying narrative for the show. 

“Who was he partnered with originally? I know it wasn’t me.” 

Stacia looked surprised by my question, “He was never partnered with anyone else before you.”

Stacia was lying. She couldn’t look at me directly when she answered my question - it was her tell. I knew how their minds worked. Dieter Bravo had a reputation for causing trouble and they were looking to exploit it. I’m sure his request caused a hiccup in their plans, so now they were making adjustments to cause drama surrounding him any way they could. 

My eyes shifted between the two of them, “I don’t know what your endgame is here, but I have no intention of playing, just so you know.”

Stacia and Joe sat expressionless, not giving anything away. I assumed they expected this sort of response from me. My tendency to push back at their plans was one of the reasons I wasn’t a favorite of theirs and most likely part of the reason they always worked to get me off the show as soon as possible, every season. Which sucked for my bank account. To add to their reasoning, I wasn’t interesting enough since I never had issues with my partners or whirlwind romances that made for good TV. However, this season they were taking a chance, throwing two bombs in the form of Lana and Dieter into my already tumultuous relationship with Alec. Hoping for an exciting outcome that would play out behind the scenes to stir up tabloid fodder and result in free promotion for the show.  

Joe sighed, finally speaking to break the tension in the room, “For what it’s worth, we met with Dieter earlier this morning…he was actually very pleasant and agreeable. I don’t think he’ll be an issue for you, so long as he continues to stay sober.”

My brows furrowed, “It sounds like you have a lot of faith in him. Good to know.” I moved to stand, “Well, if there isn’t anything else you need from me…”

Joe smiled weakly in my direction, “No, I think that’s it for now…just make sure you review the schedule and let us know if you have questions.” 

I gave them a sarcastic smile before moving to leave the conference room. As I rounded the corner in the hallway, looking down at the floor lost in my thoughts and frustration, I ran into someone. I started mumbling my apologies as I looked up at the stranger. I was met with a mess of curls, piercing dark eyes, and a dimpled lop-sided grin. It was Dieter fucking Bravo looking like he just stepped out of a GQ magazine. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he said through a chuckle with his hands on my shoulders to catch me from running head first into him. We stared at each other in silence for a moment. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, he can’t call me that.  

He had a slight smirk on his face now, “Katarina, right? Looks like we’re gonna be dance partners.” 

I shook my head, my lips set in a tight line, “Don’t call me that.” 

His brow furrowed, “What? Katarina?” 

I scoffed, “No, sweetheart. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea. It’s inappropriate. You can call me Kat like everyone else.” 

He was obviously taken off guard by my cold demeanor as he gave me a confused look, “I didn’t…mean anything by it, I-I call everyone sweetheart.” 

I nodded, “Well, you're not gonna call me that.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a beat, “I guess I’ve earned that. Sorry, I won’t do it again.” 

I inhaled deeply, biting my bottom lip as I did so. It didn’t go unnoticed that his eyes shifted down to my mouth. “Look, this is my last season and I just wanna get through it without any drama, ok?”

A crease formed between his brows as his jaw ticked to the side, “What makes you think I’m gonna cause drama?”

I shook my head, now realizing how big of a jerk I was being, “Umm…I…”

He continued to stare at me with a burning intensity, “Just so you know, I’m sober…have been for eight months. Drama is not my thing these days…”

I gave him a tight smile, “Good…hopefully you can stick to it.”  Fuck. That did not come out how I meant for it to.

I could see his jaw muscles flex before he let out a small laugh. His eyes finally shifted downward. He almost looked hurt by that comment. 

I sighed, “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” 

His brows arched as he peered at me through his lashes, “You know, I requested to be partnered with you because I was told that you're professional and wouldn’t be judgmental about my past…I guess I heard wrong. I suppose I should just expect it at this point, right? Maybe I shouldn’t have such high expectations of others.” 

My mouth fell open as I shook my head. I’m such a fucking asshole. He didn’t give me a chance to say anything before he spoke again, “I guess I’ll see you at rehearsals tomorrow. Have a good afternoon.” He gave me a sad smile as he brushed past me. I stood there with my mouth hanging open like an idiot watching him as he walked toward the exit. That was a great first impression. Good job, Kat. 

“Who was that?” Alec asked from behind me. 

I turned, running my fingers through the top of my hair out of frustration, “That was my new dance partner.” 

Alec squinted toward the figure standing near the exit, now stopping to look at his phone, “Is that Dieter Bravo?” 

I could feel my jaw tighten as I took in Alec’s expression, “Yes, it is.” Alec’s head snapped toward me, “I don’t want you working with him.” 

I smiled sarcastically, “Really? And you think I have a choice in that? They made it clear, there is no other option. I asked.”

Alec shook his head, “You could just not do this season. You're quitting anyway. Why not go ahead and drop out?” 

My eyes widened at his suggestion, “Because I need the fucking money, you know that.” 

He chuckled, “Right, for the dance studio.” 

I scoffed, “Yeah, for the dance studio. I don’t understand why you can’t support me on that.” 

Alec didn’t acknowledge my question, “This guy is a known womanizer. I’m not comfortable with this.” 

My head tilted to the side, “So you don’t trust me. That’s rich coming from you. You know…I’m not excited about your partner either, but I didn’t tell you to drop out. If anyone has a right to be concerned, it’s me.” 

Alec moved in closer, causing me to back up against the wall as he got in my face. His eyes were blazing with anger, “You’re never gonna let that shit go, are you? That was ten months ago, and I have been loyal to you ever since. Yet here you are…still throwing it in my fucking face.” 

I had a sudden defiant streak hit me, “You’re the one who brought it up by insinuating that you couldn’t trust me. I’m just reminding you who the problem is in this relationship.” 

Alec moved to put his hand on the wall next to my head as he leaned in further - his nose nearly touching mine as I turned my stoney face away from him, “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again,” he spat out.   

I could feel his eyes drift over my face for a moment before he pulled away and walked off. 

I huffed out a quiet “Fuck” as I exhaled a shaky breath and watched him walk toward the dressing rooms. When I glanced back toward the exit, Dieter was still standing there, frozen in place with his phone halfway to his ear. Once he realized I was looking his way, his head dropped downward, and he slowly turned to exit the building.   

 Dieter’s POV 

As I walked out into the scorching afternoon sun, I ended the call to check my voicemail, deciding I wasn’t in the mood to hear it. I was frustrated by my first interaction with Katarina. It didn’t go how I expected, and honestly, she had hurt my feelings. Based on everything I had heard about her, I didn’t think she would throw my past up in my face like that. At least not immediately, if at all. She did seem a little flustered, maybe she was just having a bad day? 

What followed after our exchange was even more bizarre. It looked like she was having a tense conversation with the man that I assumed was the one she was dating. Lenny had mentioned she was engaged to one of the other dancers. When the man first leaned in, I initially thought they were just having a private moment, but then I noticed the look on Kat’s face as she turned away from him. Something about it was unsettling and for a brief moment, I considered interrupting them. Luckily, I didn’t have to. However, I was left feeling that I had witnessed something I wasn’t supposed to.

Even though our conversation didn’t go as well as I hoped, I was still struck with how beautiful Katarina was in person. Pictures and TV didn’t do her justice. It was probably a good thing she was seeing someone, otherwise I would be in danger of making a fool of myself. Then again, I probably would anyway. My sober self didn’t seem to know how to act around a pretty lady. My confidence and self-assurance definitely weren’t on the same level these days. 

When I got home, I spent more time than I would like to admit staring at my reflection in the mirror - trying to remind myself that I was no longer the piece of shit that everyone still saw me as. It was still hard for me to accept that the old me and the new me were two very different people. Some days it really did seem like it was easier being the old Dieter Bravo, because he didn’t care about how he was perceived by others. I often longed for him to come back, just to quiet the thoughts of self-hate and inadequacy. Those thoughts really could be suffocating and hard to overcome. It was near impossible living with myself on those days.

The anticipation of how our first rehearsal would go was starting to get to me. So, I decided to spend the rest of the evening trying to relax and take my mind off things. With classical music blaring from the sound system, I moved through the house to check in on my plants - watering, misting leaves, and pruning. It was a new hobby I had picked up since rehab. It started with one succulent plant that had seen better days. My neighbor had left it sitting next to the trash bin on garbage collection day. For some reason, I had an urge to attempt to save the shriveled mass. After a few weeks, it was showing new life as the deep purple hues started to form on the leaves. My plant obsession bloomed from there. Now I wasn’t even sure how many I had. I was fairly certain my housekeeper was going to quit if I brought any more home. 

After I was finished with the plants, I spent some time painting until I couldn’t hold my eyes open any longer. It was nearing midnight by the time I had showered and crawled into bed. Even though I was completely exhausted, I couldn’t shut my mind off. The anxiety was now building to problematic levels. It was always at this point that I thought about using the most. By now, the old Dieter would be a couple lines in and a few drinks deep to block out the thoughts. The new Dieter suffers through it as he lay in bed alone, staring into the darkness. I drug both hands down my face and huffed loudly before moving to switch on the lamp beside the bed. I reached for my latest self-help book and began reading.  

I was startled awake by my 7 AM alarm. I groaned as I felt around next to me on the bed for the shrilling phone to shut it off. I sat up, still half out of it, causing the book that had been lying on my chest to fall to the floor with a loud thump. I got up from bed, wiping the sleep from my eyes as I walked toward the bathroom to splash some water on my face. I stood staring at my reflection again, “You look like shit, Bravo.” It was clear I hadn’t gotten much sleep from my dark circles and puffy eyelids. I threw a warm rag over my eyes for a few minutes in hopes that would help.

Standing in my closet staring at the pile of gym clothes my stylist had picked up, I selected a random pair of shorts and a t-shirt, then pulled the tags off. We weren’t allowed to wear anything with brands or logos on filming days, so I had to break down and buy more clothes. It was probably for the best, my old gym clothes were looking a little ratty anyway.    

Once I was dressed, I grabbed my backpack that had a few essentials in it and headed toward the front door. As I stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind me, I was greeted by my furry squatter who had left another gift near the steps - a dead mouse. I sighed, “Well, at least it’s not on top of the car this time…” The fluffy menace meowed at me as he rubbed against my legs, as if to say, “Look what I did!” 

I was determined to not give in to the furry intruder, so I disregarded his attempts for pets. “Don’t you have a family somewhere to annoy?” I muttered to him as I continued toward the car. He followed me halfway down the pathway before sitting down and flicking his tail around as he watched me get into the driver's side and shut the door. He didn’t look happy about being ignored. 

I gave myself a quick glance in the rearview mirror, reaching to comb down my hair with my fingers. I hadn’t bothered to fix it, knowing it was going to turn into a mess no matter what I did to it. Then, I started the car and drove in silence to the dance studio, not even really sure how I got there as I pulled into the parking lot. I found myself wondering if I had run any redlights as I walked through the main entrance. I felt like I was in a haze as the camera team talked to me in the lobby to fill me in on the plans for filming. 

They wanted to do a brief interview with me before I went into the studio with Katarina. They wanted me to give the whole spiel about how excited I was to be here and working with my dance partner. Truth is, I wasn’t excited. I was nervous as hell, and I was supposed to act like this was the first time I was meeting her. I was unsure of how to act toward her, so when the time came for me to walk through the door to greet her and act excited, I turned on the Dieter Bravo charm the best I could and pretended like yesterday’s conversation never happened.

I was surprised to find how well Katarina did the same thing as she came over to greet me with a smile and a hug and gushed about how excited she was to work with me. However, we were both avoiding looking at the other directly. Clearly there was still some lingering awkwardness between us. After they filmed the introduction, they wanted to get some quick shots of us rehearsing. 

These first few days of rehearsal were meant for learning the basics. We were not actually getting into the first routine yet. We started with some simple stretches and moved into learning the proper frame, the different types of positions, and spacing for the different types of dances. It was all very high level and fast, but Katarina had promised that we would go over it in more detail once the film crew left for the day. The quick pace was mostly for the benefit of the film crew so they could get what they needed and move on to the next couple. 

Once filming was done for the day, we took a seat on the floor for a water break as the crew gathered up all of their gear to leave. We mostly sat in awkward silence until we were finally alone. I could feel Katarina’s eyes on me as I stared at the water bottle in my hand. She spoke first. 

“I feel like I should apologize about yesterday…I was having a shit day and kind of took it out on you. I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t mean what I said.” 

I pursed my lips and shrugged, “It’s fine. I’m used to it at this point.” 

She reached out and grasped my wrist with her left hand, the heat of her touch raced through me as I looked at the glittering ring on that finger for a moment before meeting her eyes, “It doesn’t mean that it should keep happening though. It’s not right and it’s not fair to you. Everyone deserves a second chance.” 

I huffed out a small laugh, “Yeah, except I’m on like my tenth chance. I understand why no one takes me seriously. Really, it’s not that big of a deal.” 

Her face softened as she stared at me for a beat, like she was trying to decide what she wanted to say next. Then she shifted her body to face me as she crossed her legs, “It is a big deal. It’s a big deal to me because I know better. You know…” 

She paused, appearing to gather her thoughts. I moved to lean back on my hand and face her more fully with my legs stretched out to the side. My teeth bit into my bottom lip as I watched her face shift to a somewhat pained expression. It was brief, but I still caught it before she gained her composure. 

“My uhh…my dad was sober for about 14 years before he passed. I know how hard it was for him in the beginning…with everyone doubting him and not giving him a chance. It’s one of the reasons he relapsed the first few times. It can be hard when you don’t have any support from the people around you. I know that…and I don’t wanna be one of those people. You haven’t given me any reason to doubt you, so I wanna make sure I’m giving you a fair shot and support you as long as you’re actively trying to better yourself. I know first-hand that people do change.”

Is she fucking serious? I couldn’t move or speak. She had stunned me again for the second day in a row. I never would have guessed she would share something so personal, especially on our first day together. She seemed sincere in her apology.   

I finally managed a curt nod before I reached to rub at the crease between my brows, “Thanks…I uhh…I appreciate that.”  I let out a small laugh, “I appreciate it more than you probably realize, actually.” 

She gave me a tentative smile, “Does that mean I’m forgiven for being an asshole then?” 

I chuckled, “Of course…and I didn’t think you were an asshole. Not really. I had a feeling you were having a bad day.”

“Whew…ok. Good. I was worried I had already fucked this whole thing up before it started.” 

Ok, it’s kind of hot when she says fuck. I smirked, “Does this mean I get to call you sweetheart now?” 

She narrowed her eyes on me and shook her head, “No. No sweetheart.” She laughed quietly, “But, I might consider a different nickname if you come up with a good one.” 

My lips spread into a cheeky smile, “I think I can come up with something.” She laughed into the top of her water bottle as she took a sip with a slight flush creeping up her neck. Am I flirting right now? I don’t even know what I’m doing. Geez. I looked away in an attempt to reign myself in. I can’t be doing that.  

We were soon back at it, now with a more relaxed atmosphere. We again started with getting my frame right. I stood in place as she moved my arms to the proper position, pushing in between my shoulder blades to straighten my posture. After several minutes in the position, I couldn’t help the groan that slipped out, “This is gonna do a number on my back muscles, isn’t it?” 

She snickered, “You will definitely have better posture by the time I’m done with you. Now, elbows up, you should have a horizontal line from elbow to elbow…and hold it there.” 

She then stood in front of me, taking in my form for a moment before manipulating my hands into the proper position. 

Smiling, she nodded in satisfaction as she stepped closer, “Ok, now let’s go over the hold. The hold is important because it’s how we connect…how our bodies communicate movement to lead and follow.” 

As she spoke, she moved closer, placing her arm along the top of my right one and clasping my left hand in hers. She was very matter of fact with her words as her eyes bore into mine. It was almost distracting. 

“I need you to make sure there’s no space between our arms…here, so keep your elbow flush against mine.” She bounced her arm against the top of my right one to emphasize what she meant. “This is an important connection point because I can feel the pressure from your arm, which will tell me how to follow. As for your left hand, keep it at my eye level. We apply pressure here as well for another connection point.”    

All I could do was nod along with her words, completely mesmerized by her intensity. Once she felt we had the hold down, she began to explain the differences in spacing for standard ballroom versus Latin dances. 

“So…in Latin style dances, we’ll have more space between us…like we are now. It gives us more room to move. We’re gonna be slightly offset from each other while maintaining this closed position. Got it?”

I nodded again as I chewed on the inside of my cheek. I wanted to look at her directly, but I couldn’t. Between her eyes burning into me and the tingling from her touch, I felt like my skin was on fire. I didn’t know what to make of it and it was sort of fucking with my head.

Then she stepped even closer, the front of our bodies nearly flush as she slightly adjusted the position of our arms. I swallowed hard over her proximity and the tangy citrus scent that was now invading my senses. Fuck. I might be in trouble. 

“For standard dances, like the Waltz and Foxtrot, we’re gonna be closer…like this. Our frame will be a little wider and our arms will be positioned slightly lower. We’ll both be looking off to our left instead of directly at each other.”   

I cleared my throat, stepping back slightly, “Sooo…umm…do we look off to the left for Latin dances?” 

Her brows arched as her eyes widened, “Good question. I should have mentioned that. There’s typically more direct eye contact in the Latin dances. It’s actually another form of connection…another way for us to communicate without words.”

She moved back into the Latin dance hold, now making direct eye contact with me. I couldn’t help how my eyes roamed over her face, taking in the minor changes in her expression as she spoke. I wasn’t sure if the close proximity of the standard hold or direct eye contact with the Latin hold was worse. They were both a little overwhelming. 

“Alright, let’s try some steps. We can start with the Rumba.” 

She broke away for a moment to show me the foot movement, then had me give it a try. After a successful attempt, she positioned us back into the Latin hold and we began moving together. Once it seemed we had the footwork down, she backed away with a smirk on her face. 

“You’re actually really good at this, you know. We do need to work on eye contact though.”

I smiled nervously as I looked down at my feet and rubbed the back of my neck, “I’m sorry…I know. Direct eye contact is a little weird for me.” I glanced up at her through my lashes, slightly embarrassed by the admission. 

She smiled and arched a brow in my direction, “Really? I never would have guessed that based on your love scenes.”

My eyes widened. I do not need to think about her watching me dick someone down on screen. Focus, Bravo. I chuckled nervously, “Yeah, I’m not usually looking directly into their eyes during those. I tend to stare between their eyebrows.” 

She gave me a sly smile now, snickering, “Oh, is that why you usually look cross eyed then?” 

My brow furrowed as I gave her a mock look of offense, “I don’t look cross eyed. That’s rude.”

She cackled over my response, “I’m joking. I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen one of your love scenes to know how your face looks.” 

I scrunched up my nose, “Ouch, ok…so you don’t watch my movies. Got it.” 

Her laugh had simmered to a quiet chuckle now as she lightly smacked my shoulder, “I’ve seen some…just not any with a love scene. So don’t be so offended. I’ve seen those TikTok videos though…they gave me a good idea of what I’m working with.”

I rolled my eyes, “Ugh…those fucking TikTok videos. They’re so bad.”  

I had to admit, it was nice to be joking around with her after all the tension that had built up from yesterday. I took it as a good sign that this might actually go ok. What I didn’t expect was the attraction that I was starting to feel as our day went on. However, the obnoxiously sized engagement ring she wore on her finger helped keep that in check every time I saw it sparkling in the light when she moved. As long as that shiny reminder was there, I would be ok... 

Right?

Next: Week 2

✨FUN FACTS: All cast members on Dancing with the Stars are in fact required to get a weekly spray tan. They also do not get to choose their partners, costumes, music, or themes. They can make recommendations obviously, but the producers do not have to honor the requests. When it comes to pairing partners, the producers do have a "formula".

A/N: I wanted to take a quick minute to welcome all of my new and old readers! So happy to have you all with me for my next adventure with Dieter Bravo. For the new folks, I'm a sucker for predictions and theories. If you have them, drop them in the comments so we can discuss. Now on to my normal nonsense...how are you guys feeling about the first chapter? How do you feel about Dieter and Kat's first couple of interactions? What about all the characters that were introduced? I'm curious to know who you want to throat punch more, Alec or Stacia? I'm already in love with these two and I can't wait to share more of them. This Dieter is...something else. I love sharing things from his point of view. He is going to be a good time, as expected. Kat is...kind of a mess, but also not? It's been interesting being in her head. How do you see things progressing with these two? Lastly, a quick thank you to @maggiemayhemnj for giving this first chapter a quick read through to make sure all these plot points were introduced in a way that made sense...because seriously, there is a lot going on here. She also found the perfect disco ball looking dividers for this...and I fucking love them. 😘 👉 I did a fun post about Dieter's plant hobby and his furry visitor. Check it out HERE. 👉 In case you missed it, I also did a character introduction post, which you can find HERE. Until next time, 💜 Mysty

Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @linzels-blog @morallyinept @survivingandenduring  @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions @myloveistoolittle @for-a-longlongtime  @copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter @burntheedges @stevie75 @pedrostories

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments or shoot me a DM.

Credits: Support/MDNI Dividers: @cafekitsune Disco Divider: @deadbranch

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal fanfic #soft dieter #dancing dieter #sober dieter #dieter x ofc

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Oh bestie, you already know. Haha! Expect ALL the feels with this one. I'm excited to share it with you all! 😘💜

WIP Wednesday

Happy Wednesday my lovelies! Today I bring you something...sort of new-ish? For those of you who read Destiny & Deliverance, you know that I was planning to do a little extra something for foster care and mental health awareness month in May. I have started working on it since I was suddenly hit by the ‘Daddy Dieter’ bug again thanks to @auteurdelabre and her wonderful fic (A Little Sun).

So, for this WIP Wednesday, I bring you a snippet from Written in the Stars - Luca's adoption story.

My face softened, realizing now that he really wanted this, “Dieter, this isn't a dog. It’s a whole fucking human…and not even a baby. He’s gonna have feelings, emotions, and…trauma. That’s a lot to take on.”  He sighed, “I-I know…I don’t think there’s anyone more equipped to handle trauma than us though…I’m the only person he knows. If we don’t take him, he’s gonna go to the foster facility or be placed with a random family. I can’t let that happen…he’ll be terrified.”  I ran my fingers through the top of my hair as I stared at him, “It’s temporary?” Dieter nodded. “Are you gonna be able to handle that? Will you be able to handle giving him up?” He nodded again, “As long as I go into it knowing that’s the plan, then yes…I c-can handle it.”  I wasn’t completely convinced with that answer. Dieter had been doing so well the last several years, but this was certainly something that could trigger a manic episode for him.  “And what if they can’t find another place for him to go? What if it’s not temporary?” He let out a controlled breath, “Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

As previously mentioned, this will be a one shot to expand on Luca's story. It's going to be angsty, as usual. However, if you read D & D, you know how things end up. Are you ready for some more Daddy Dieter & Talia? Do you think this situation will cause tension between these two based on the snippet? How do you think each of them will handle this journey?

Until next time,

💜Mysty

D&D Taglist: @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94  @hisandsnakes 

@chaoticfestninja @survivingandenduring @partyofone3413 @wannab-urs @cakipy-blog

@titlee78 @poodlebae @guelyury @missladym1981 @maried01

@alokaerza @samiamproductions @misstokyo7love @themonadiaries-blog @madnessofadaydreamer

@darkheartgatita @avastrasposts @weho2kcmo @harriedandharassed @tkchaos

@girlofchaos @yghuibt @musings-of-a-rose @annieispunk @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat

@copperhalfcent @bunniboo0015 @indiegirlunited @babycatkitty @stevie75

@jessthebaker

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #daddy dieter #soft dieter #reblog love #trash panda queue

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

I read this so damn fast...these two are KILLING me.

I had really hoped Mia would get the hint and that fizzled out. The way my heart clenched when Dieter followed through with the plans to go on the trip with her! And packing the box of condoms...ouch. Please tell me he didn't follow through with that. It makes me cringe to think about it. Based on his messages, it did not sound like he was having a good time either. Or that might be my wishful thinking.

They are both down so bad...I really hope they finally have an honest conversation with each other soon. I'm not sure how much more my little heart can take of all the angst and longing (but I'm 100% here for it all).

I'm just happy reader is finally starting to realize that it isn't just hormones. The falling asleep in his bed/robe listening to the tape...swoon. Girl, it's over. There is no coming back from that.

I love that he found her there too. Surely that will make him realize that maybe she isn't being completely honest with him about her feelings enough that he tells her how he really feels. 🤞🤞 He is pretty dense though...so maybe not. LOL

I absolutely can not wait for the next installment. I'm waiting on the edge of my seat! 💜💜

A Little Sun part 6 Dieter!Bravo x f!Reader

rating: 18+ words: 8.4k pairings: Dieter x f!Reader

tags: pregnancy, details of body changing with pregnancy, insecurity, mention of family death, mutual pining, idiots in love, soft dieter, fluff, lurve, angst, miscommunication trope, female masturbation, male masturbation, dirty talk (thoughts). summary: You move in with Dieter after the fight with your mom and things get... complicated. a/n: Y'all this thing has turned into such a fuckin' beast. Remember when I wanted it to be a one shot? Anyway, we're nearing the end with these two idiots in love but I think this one ends pretty damn sweet.

Also I think I'm in love with Dieter Bravo?

SERIES MASTERLIST

REBLOGS, COMMENTS, ENGAGEMENT ARE WHAT KEEP US FIC WRITERS GOING. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS.

Dieter doesn't even let you step fully into his home before he's got you in his arms, wrapping you in his warm embrace. Your suitcases clatter to the floor as you cling to him, burying your face in his neck and fighting back tears. 

"You can stay as long as you want," Dieter promises you as one hand cups the back of your head. "Stay forever."

You give a watery chuckle into his shoulder, not quite ready to let go of him. You only break apart when the smell of European cigarettes wafts into the room. 

You swipe at your damp eyes while Dieter turns to greet the tiny woman with a shock of white curls. She wears an oversized green t-shirt and loose khaki pants. She shuffles from place to place in her oversized moccasins. 

"You remember Magda, right?"

"I think we've met a few times," you say extending your hand. The old woman gives you a look before shuffling over and placing her hand on your belly. You're in too much shock to pull back. 

"A healthy boy," she tells you through a thick Eastern European accent. You and Dieter exchange looks of surprise. 

"Uh yeah," you peer down at her shriveled frame, "How did you know that it was a boy?"

"I can tell."

She says it with a sage nod and then with that revelation she shuffles off to the kitchen, the feather duster still firmly lodged under her bony arm. 

"She's the best," Dieter says says fondly before turning back to you with a look of expectancy. "Lemme show you where you're staying."

He takes both of your suitcase handles and jerks head to the left indicating you should follow. 

You follow him out into his garden beside the pool. A place that you've never really visited much before. Most of your business has been conducted inside in his kitchen or in his office. You've heard about his guest house, how he had so many decorators come in over the years. 

When you enter into it now, you're surprised at just how normal it seems. You were waiting for whips and chains and other strange memorabilia to line the walls. But instead it looks like something out of a Martha Stewart magazine. Crisp White's and Blue wainscotting. Overstuffed chairs and couches surround the coffee table from the photo he sent you. It's strangely tasteful. 

It doesn't suit him at all. 

Dieter must notice your surprise because he smirks before he rolls your suitcases towards the kitchen bar.  

"Remember that Danish woman I dated for a couple months right after you started working for me?"

"Yeah, Lyda something.'

"Right. She wanted to start a career as an interior designer. I let her run the show in this place. Not really my taste."

"Not really mine either," You admit looking around the space. "It is beautifully done but I prefer the place we stayed in Ireland, like, that aesthetic. Old wood and big windows."

"I like that too," Dieter agrees. He sees you yawn and immediately feels guilty for keeping You up after such an emotional day.

"I'm going to have Petra whip you up something for dinner."

Petra is Dieter's chef who stocks his fridge with high end 

"Dieter you don't-"

"You gotta take care of you and little Bravo remember?" 

Dieter feels something in his chest bloom when instead of rolling your eyes you smile at him, nodding. 

"Thanks Dieter."

You wake up the next morning in the plush duvet with your arms stretched above your head before rolling an absent hand down your swollen belly. 

"Morning little boy," you whisper to the tiny being there beneath your fingertips. You give a groan as you gently roll yourself off the bed sliding into your slippers and pulling on your robe. Despite your devastation of what happened with your mother, waking up in this beautiful space on this gorgeously sunny day has you feeling hopeful.

This feeling is dampened slightly when you glance at your phone, looking to the calendar and seeing a date in the coming week starred. A date you have been dreading for months. Your birthday. The first one of yours since your father passed. Without your mom around this seems especially painful to consider. You close your phone, not wanting to think about it.

You spot a tall figure out the window and feel your cheeks flush. Something has shifted since Ireland. Something that terrifies you. The whisper of feelings that you're having a hard time repressing when you think of how he supports you. 

But you push it from your mind. Your worlds don't match up.  You’re serious, you take life seriously, you want to dedicate yourself to science. Dieter wants to fuck and party and grab life by the balls.

Plus he's with Mia and she makes him happy. 

Dieter saunters across the backyard, narrowly missing the pool as he heads to the guest house. He's wearing an old t-shirt and sweatpants under tattered robe, his eyes hidden behind his sunshades. He's carrying a tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a smoothie in the other.  

"Dieter it’s ten in the morning," you say as you open the sliding door to greet him. 

"I'm still on Ireland time," he says giving you a waggle of his brows before setting the pale

pink smoothie down on the kitchen counter. "Breakfast when you're ready for it." 

He sees you eyeing the smoothie warily and gives a deep rumbling chuckle. 

"Petra made this one so you're safe. You like strawberries right?"

You take a tentative sip, before giving a soft moan of approval and drinking down the rest. 

He rocks back on his heels a moment and despite the dark of his glasses, you can feel his gaze lingering on you. 

"So... What're you up to today, Bravo?"

"You mean you don't know?"

"I'm officially no longer part of team Bravo remember?" You remind him with a sad chuckle as you place the empty glass back on the counter. "Diane cut my access to work emails and calendars." 

"Shit that's right, I forgot." He looks at you with such a guilty expression. "I'm sorry."

"S'okay. I'm looking at this like a real non working vacation," you tell him honestly pointing out the window. "I figure you have a pool, there's a chef, a housekeeper, I brought books, what more could I ask for?"

"Plus you have a recreation staff," Dieter grins, taking you by the hand and twirling you gently towards him. "Dance lessons by the pool, movie nights, anything the customer wants."

"Hmmm an end to global warming?"

"Sorry that's only with the premium package."

You let out a loud laugh as Dieter joins you, spinning you into a hug. His mouth is only inches from yours and when the two of you realize this your mutual laughter ebbs. 

Dieter wants nothing more than to press his mouth to yours, to taste you, to fuck you here in his home. But he knows it's not what you want. You don't want that from Dieter. You want somewhere safe to stay and he'll provide that to you.

Besides there is someone who does want his affection, his touch: Mia. 

You swallow, your body poised and mouth slowly tilting towards Dieter before he seems to realize himself. He slowly extricates his arms from around you before reaching into his robe pocket, clearing his throat. 

"Here's the key," Dieter tells you, holding it out to you. You take it, looking at the tiny Jameson keychain on it. The one that matches the one Dieter got you in Ireland that you wear on your own keychain. You smile at the sight of it before looking puzzled.

"A key?"

"For the guest house."

"I don't need to lock it," you chide even as you take it from him and toss it into your purse. "It's just you and me here right?"

"Yeah," Dieter hides the broad of his grin behind his whiskey glass. "Just you and me."

For the next several days Dieter tries to give you as much space as possible. He brings you a smoothie every morning citing that Magda is too busy. In the evenings he texts you to invite you over to the big house for dinner. Sometimes you join him, sometimes you’re just too tired.

You always go back to the guest house feeling a little bit down. You didn’t realize you missed sleeping in the same house, how Ireland made it almost feel like living together. Dieter’s place is so large it’s like you’re in separate neighborhoods.

Dinners are starting to be hard as well. Knowing you’ll be leaving to go back to the empty guest room. It’s a luxury, that’s for certain with its tall ceilings and plush bed. But it feels quiet without Dieter’s music or loud laughter.

And so you can admit to yourself that every morning he comes by with the pink smoothie and a big grin, your heart leaps a little bit. Like now, seeing him rushing over more frenzied than usual. He smiles, pushing the drink into your hand hurriedly.  

“Here. Drink fast, I finished the nursery and want you to come look.”

“When did you have time to do the nursery?” You ask amazed as you follow him to the main house, smoothie almost drained by the time you reach his place. 

“I’ve been in touch with this guy Diora from Albania over email since Ireland. He’s all the rage, super hard to get but he was really excited about trying his hand at a nursery. He just finished Criss Angel’s man cave and James Franco’s bedroom.”

Dieter sweeps a hand to the middle of your back, guiding you down the hall. When he opens the door with a flourish it takes everything in you not to gasp in horror. Your hand still rises to your mouth, though when you step into the room.

It looks like a sex dungeon.

Black and white striped walls, a beautifully ornate crib painted a ghastly red. 

"Contrasting colors are good for baby’s retinas," Dieter says confidently. "I read it somewhere."

It takes you a few moments of staring at everything before you can speak.

"You have whips hung on the walls."

"Those are vintage skipping ropes," Dieter tells you aghast at your misunderstanding. You turn slowly, taking everything in. Finally you shake your head slowly.  

"Dieter, this is totally inappropriate for a nursery," you say. "What baby would be happy here?" 

Dieter takes a moment to glance around the space, his previous elation dimming with every word from you. 

"This is what Diora suggested. He's the hottest designer right now."

"Of millionaire bachelor pads," you say as you look at a particularly ugly piece of metal hanging from the ceiling. "Not for a baby’s room."

"I'm not gonna have some tacky nursery with stuffed bears and shit,” Dieter defends. “I can't do it. Anyone who comes over and sees that'll think I've lost my edge."

The thought of being a father is immensely appealing to Dieter. The thought of being a loser Dad is not.

“Mia said it was cool,” Dieter shoots out. “I sent her photos.”

Mia is also in her early twenties, you want to snap. But you hold your tongue, trying to see the upsides to this nursery. Unfortunately you can see none. Everything is a safety hazard.

Dieter paces around the room, suddenly sour at the whole thing. He thought you’d be excited to see where the baby will be. Instead you’ve come in with your judgments and frowning face.

"Please let me... Dieter let me help you with this," you almost beg. "I just.... I know he's not mine but I can't stand the thought of him being in this... Baby prison."

I know he's not mine. 

This hurts Dieter to hear it. He knows that you face no interest in being in this baby's life or his the week after you've given birth. But he can admit he's fooled himself with you being here.

But this? This is a project the two of you can work on. A potential to have more reason to have you in the house, not in that fucking guest house. He can only think of so many reasons to knock on your door apart from smoothies. 

"Okay, sure."

“Okay,” you say looking relieved. “How about a pale blue or green? Then we can get a nice crib and some rugs and gauzy curtains.”

“That’s so boring.”

“And safe,” you emphasize. “You have to think of his safety, Dieter.”

Dieter pouts slightly in thought, trying to see the nursery through your eyes. He has to concede that perhaps this is a bit much for a newborn.

"Actually, you know what would look really beautiful on this far wall here?" You muse, looking at the space. "That painting you bought me for my birthday."

You think of the artwork hanging in your bedroom. The one of the woman looking out over the ocean, her hair whipping in the sea air. It’s the one thing you didn’t bring from home that you regret. There was something about that painting that made you feel relaxed.

"I didn't buy you that," Dieter says with a furrowed brow. 

Your stomach sinks at this admission from Dieter and you wish you could take back everything. The intimacy of the moment, the vulnerability. He never even fucking bought the thing himself. Diane probably did and here you are pouring your heart out about it. 

"Oh, uh-Or Diane or whoever-"

"I painted it for you."

All the animosity that had been brewing behind your sternum drains from you. A smile blooms immediately, your body tingling as you roll onto your side to fully face him. 

"You did?"

"Yeah," Dieter is smirking at you from the shadows. "I love painting. You think I'd buy you a fucking painting?"

“I think I just assumed that you got Diane or whoever to ship it to me." 

"Maybe if you were someone else," Dieter muses, his gaze wandering around the nursery. "Someone who doesn't do everything for me." He falls silent a moment. "You really thought I bought it?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't you think it was weird that the girl in the painting was you?"

Now you're stunned and it must show on your face because Dieter is chuckling softly now. 

"You've had it hanging up your room for how long? Did you even look at it?"

"Of course I did, I do," you say in a rush, feeling embarrassed. You look at it every night you’re in your bedroom. "I just ... I never thought..."

"What?"

"I never thought you saw me."

Dieter blinks back at you, his dark eyes searching your face. 

"I just mean you never even said thank you before this whole baby thing," you explain. "I've worked for you for a while and you kinda just expected I'd be at your beck and call all hours of the day and night, even on my days off."

"I'm sorry," Dieter whispers. "That was shitty of me."

"Why do you do it? 

“I went through so many assistants I just assumed you wouldn’t be sticking around long.” Dieter looks ashamed as he says it out loud.  “But then the longer you stayed the more I depended on you. I think… After a while I think it just felt weird to not message you.”

You both lapse into a thoughtful silence.

“You’ll manage just fine without me when I leave,” you tell him, needing him to know. “And if you’re ever feeling really lost and like you just need to talk to someone, you can always call me. Not as an employee, but as a friend.”

“Really? We’re friends?”

“Yeah,” you nod, heart hammering. “Friends.”

Dieter wakes up hard every morning for the next two weeks. He doesn't try to; he actively tries to think of other things before he goes to sleep. He watches documentaries, he reads art books, he meditates. He tries to push you from his thoughts so he can wake up normal. 

But he always wakes up aching with the head of his cock weeping, flickering remnants of his dreams still floating around his subconscious. And those dreams are always of you.

Today he wakes up with the memory of his dream still lingering. You on your knees, his cock in your mouth and your eyes heavy lidded. As he shifts in bed Dieter realizes his boxers are sticky with previous release. A fucking nocturnal emission? How old is he?

And what's worse is that he's still fucking hard. Throbbing, actually He groans low in his throat and tries to ignore it.

You're here at his home. You're practically living with him. You're only a few steps from his back door. You're so close and yet so frustratingly far from him. He misses being in the same home as you, like the rental in Ireland. He misses the feeling of coming home after a long day on set and seeing your sweet face on the couch.

He wants that again. 

Dieter rolls onto his belly to try and squash his current erection against the mattress. But that doesn't help, it just gives a delicious friction. He shifts again experimentally, groaning at the shiver that travels from the base of his spine to the tip. In his sleepy arousal he imagines that it's not the mattress but you that he's fucking. 

"You like that?" Dieter murmurs, eyes closed as he rocks against his bed. "Like feeling me like that, baby?"

He pushes his hips into the bed, starting to rut when the pleasure increases.

You're so big, Dieter. 

And suddenly he's thrusting against it, picturing your body writhing under him. 

Need it, Dieter. Fuck me harder. 

"Yes," Dieter groans into his pillow, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress. He thrusts furiously into the soft fabric of the bed, hips bouncing up and down on the mattress. 

Need your big cock, daddy, your dream self moans. Need it deep. 

"Fuck yes, baby. Take Daddy's cock. Take it and-"

His phone chirrups loudly on the table next to him, breaking him from the immersive fantasy. 

A name and photo flash up on the screen. 

Mia. 

Immediately he feels guilty. Here he is humping his mattress to thoughts of you as his gorgeous, talented, funny, sexy girlfriend is calling. 

He breathes rapidly through his nose, slowing his grinding movements. He rolls over in the bed, reaching for the phone. 

"Hey babe," Dieter says, panting as he answers. He flips onto his back, willing his cock to go down. 

"You okay? You sound like you've been exercising and I know that can't be true."

Dieter barks a laugh at that. He's about to reply when he hears a splash outside his window. Mia starts chatting in his ear but he's completely taken with the view outside his window. 

You're in a bikini, gliding through the clear water of his pool. Dieter feels his mouth run dry at the sight, especially when you roll over onto your back, your belly protruding from the water like a beacon. Your hair dances around your head, your eyes closed, face tilted towards the sun. You have the sweetest little smile on your face. 

You're so fucking beautiful. 

"Dee? You there?"

"Huh? Yeah, sorry babe what?"

"I wanted to know how you're getting on? I've been staying off socials for the last little bit of the shoot trying to stay focused. I finally saw the photos from the airport. How is the poor thing holding up?"

"Stressed, but better."

"She must be happy to be at home away from all that madness."

Dieter feels his stomach clench. He knows he has to be honest with Mia, she's his girlfriend, she deserves to know. And yet he hesitates because he knows how it sounds. 

"She's staying in my guest house, actually," Dieter offers in what he hopes is a nonchalant voice. 

The warmth from Mia's voice is immediately gone. 

"Pardon me?" 

"She's, uh, in my guest house for the time being," Dieter adds, closing his eyes and bracing himself. 

Mia shuffles on the other end before her voice reaches out to him confused. 

"I thought you wanted a relationship with me, Dieter. Otherwise why did your agent go to so much trouble to confirm it? To do a splashy roll-out?"

"I do want it."

"But you have the employee you got pregnant living with you?"

"Not with me. In the guest house." 

"This is weird, Dee." 

He hears the concern in her voice and he feels his stomach drop. He doesn't want to lose Mia. 

"Her mom kicked her out," Dieter explains quickly. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Pay for a hotel?"

The answer is so clear, so obvious. Why didn't he offer a hotel? He has the money. Why had it been so important for him to have you here? 

Because then he could see you every day.

The answer is immediate but he won't admit it. Not now. 

"The paps have been relentless," Dieter says finally. "They'll camp out outside of wherever I put her up. Not like here where I know she's safe away from the public eye."

"But-"

"She's not like us, Mia," Dieter insists. "She doesn't want fame and all that shit. She's just a regular person who's pregnant and alone. Her mom kicked her out, she's got no one else."

He can almost hear Mia softening over the phone. 

"It's just hard, Dee," she says finally. "Especially when I haven't seen you in weeks."

Dieter feels a flutter of panic at how sad she sounds. He wants to make it up to her and has a great idea of how. 

"Prague!" 

Dieter bursts out with this, wincing when he hears how loud he is. 

"Sorry, what?" 

"What do you think about Prague?" Dieter corrects himself, rubbing nervously at his beard. "You're flying to LA next week for our magazine spread, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you've always wanted to go to Prague, right?"

"Yes."

"So let's do it. After the shoot let's get away from everyone and everything for a few weeks just us two."

"You'd really want to do that?"

"Of course." 

He hears Mia weighing the choice on the other end of the line. He holds his breath until he can almost hear her smile.  

"Okay Dee, let's do it."

“Amazing,” Dieter says grinning. “I’ll get Diane to send you the details. See you next week.”

He hangs up quickly, undressing and pulling on his swim trunks.

You’re floating on your back, sunglasses on your face, your body most submerged in the cool water. You hear the sound of a door opening and crack one eye open to see Dieter approaching.

Dieter never uses his pool. He got the house on a whim and didn’t even notice it had a pool until he officially moved in. But right now seeing your tits overflowing out of your bikini cups has him so utterly thankful to his former self.

He shrugs off his robe, sliding into the chilly water with an exaggerated brrrr. He swims over to you, sunglasses perched on the end of his nose.

“Looked so refreshing I had to join.”

“It’s so nice,” you sigh, your arms and legs out as you soak up the sun and enjoy the lack of strain on your lower back. “I never want to get out.”

Dieter paddles near you for a moment, wanting to remember this moment before he recalls his conversation with Mia.

“Well you’ll have the place to yourself the next couple of weeks.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Mia and I are going to Prague like you suggested.”

“That’s so great," you say with a tightness in your voice. “When do you leave?”

“Next Thursday.”

Next Thursday.

Dieter stars to drone on about how Mia has all these restaurants and museums she wants to go to but all you can think of is that you’ll be alone on your birthday. The first one since your father passed. No mother to turn to. Nothing. You’ll be completely alone.

A sudden flutter begins in your abdomen and you give an absent smile, hand slowly sliding over your stomach.

Well, not completely alone.

From where you stand in your guest house kitchen you can see into the main house. Specifically into the dining room. At night when the landscape is dark and the lights are on inside you can see it very clearly.

Like tonight.

You can see him pacing inside the house, his tall frame gesticulating wildly. He's obviously going over some lines. He asked you to have dinner and run through them but you’d texted back some feeble excuse.

The truth is you need to separate yourself as much as possible from Dieter because you’re convinced that what you’re starting to feel can’t be explained away by hormones. This desire to be with him.

But he’s leaving with Mia in a few short days on some whirlwind romantic escape. You even showed him the best way to pack his fucking suitcase! The sight of a box of condoms at the bottom of it hidden by the toiletries bag made your throat tighten.

Despite this your eyes sail over to Dieter’s house again, watching him make a note on his script before running through the lines. He looks so sexy when he does it, totally lost in the moment. It reminds you of the character he played in Ireland.

Fuck, that insatiable need is coursing through your body again. The hormones kicking into overdrive as you feel your thighs press together at the memory of Dieter and that regency costume. He looked so good in it. You can almost hear his husky voice in your ear. 

It's okay if you want it, baby. Lemme give it to you. 

You throw yourself into your plush bed, your hands sliding down under your panties and working frantically against your straining clit. 

Uh huh. Just like that. Gotta come on my fingers before you get this cock. 

You throw your head back, thighs squeezing as you rut against your fingers. This phantom Dieter plays in your mind, his husky voice full of dark, delicious promise. 

Gonna fuck such pretty sounds out of you. 

"Dieter," you groan, unable to help yourself. It's pathetic how quickly and easily your orgasm overtakes you. It leaves you shuddering and whimpering, rutting into your fingers and then finally collapsing back as you stare at the ceiling.

What the fuck are you doing?

Despite everything Dieter is still your boss in some ways. He’s still the man paying you to have a child. Yes, he’s sort of a friend, but at the end of the day he still holds some authority over you. 

You wish that last thought didn’t turn you on so much.

You’re still groaning when you hear the light tap of knuckles on glass and you jerk up in your bed, face flushed.

You wipe your damp hand on the sheets before slowly stumbling out of the bedroom. Dieter is standing there at the glass door, giving you a stiff wave. You move quickly, tugging the door open. The sound of cicadas and LA night traffic punctuate the formerly peaceful space.

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m really sorry to come over here so late but Magda just told me when she was cleaning this place this afternoon she saw a roach.”

“What?”

Immediately you’re moving towards him, glancing behind you in disgust. Your eyes sweep the floor and counters for any trace. Strange, you haven’t noticed anything and this place is kept perfectly clean.

“Yeah,” Dieter nods, looking tense. “So I gotta get this place fumigated ASAP.”

“Of course.”

“But the fumes are bad for the baby so you’ll have to move your stuff into the main house until it’s finished.”

“For how long do you think?”

“Dunno,” Dieter shrugs, motioning to the room airily. “I was gonna call a guy in the morning to get some quotes. Might be a couple weeks before they can get someone out here.”

A couple weeks? Dieter has enough money to have the place fumigated tonight if he really wanted to. You gaze up at Dieter about to say as such when you see the searching nature of his eyes and suddenly the shoe drops.

There’s no roach.

You note the tense way he rubs his fingers together, the way his brows rise and eyes go owlish the longer you stare at him.

“I’m terrified of roaches,” you finally tell him as you start to throw your stuff into your suitcases. “Can I move my stuff in tonight?”

“Would be the safest,” Dieter nods exaggeratedly helping you to pack. It takes no time at all before he’s helping you carry the suitcases across the yard and into his home.

The guest room is just as nice as the guest house with tall ceilings but slightly less homey. Dieter prefers marble floors and gold accents. Things he was taught as a child meant rich. The bed is lovely, but minimalist. You are however very impressed with the large bathtub and even bigger rain forest shower.  You put your suitcases to the side, feeling Dieter watch you from the doorway.

“It’s still early you wanna watch a doc or something?”

You bite back the delighted smile that threatens to bleed over your features before you turn to face him.

“Sure.”

“Okay, you got your passport, the tickets are on your phone, your bags are packed,” the young man’s reedy voice lists off things from his checklist as the three of you stand in the kitchen the following week. Dieter is sitting on one of the stools dressed nicely and looking nervously from the paper to you, completely ignoring Rupert.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

“Dieter.”

“What if you go into labor?”

“Almost three months early?” you force a laugh from where you stand by the fridge. “Then we have bigger issues than you not being here. Now c’mon. Mia’ll be here any second.”

Today is the photo spread for the movie Mia and Dieter starred in. It’ll run late so the lovebirds have decided on spending the night in a fancy hotel before shuttling off to Prague the next day. Dieter is always nervous about trips away but he realizes this is especially daunting since he’ll have no PA with him.

Diane has sent him someone new over during the week. A young man with bloodshot eyes and a nervous countenance named Robert or Roger. Dieter can’t remember. All he knows is that the kid does his job decently but he isn’t you.

But he promised himself that he would plan this trip for he and Mia. He researched the restaurants and hotels with her and booked it all. He got them the best seats in the plane and the nicest suite in the hotel.

But all he can think is that he’s going to be away from you for two weeks. Away from his son nestled safely in your body.  

“I made a new tape for him,” Dieter says, suddenly snapping. He reaches into his pocket and slides the tape towards you. “Make sure he listens.”

“Yes, yes,” you say rolling your eyes.

The doorbell rings and Rupert immediately goes to answer it leaving you and Dieter alone. He watches you peering into the fridge trying to find something to satisfy your current craving of salty vanilla pudding.

“I don’t want to leave you.”

His voice is a quiet hum. Your mouth tries to form the words but all you can think of is Dieters warm eyes, his hands caressing your belly, the sweet timbre of his voice when he reads to you when you can’t sleep. 

“I’m going to be okay,” you promise him softly as you glance over to him. “Now go say hello to your girlfriend.”

Dieter nods resolutely before bolting around the corner to see Mia. You hear his excited greeting and you try not to feel upset. Instead you dig around in the cupboard for something salty. You hear your name being called and you turn to see Dieter and Mia entering the room.

Mia’s eyes go round with shock at seeing you waddle towards her. You give a bright smile, despite the pang that goes through you at the sight of them hand-in-hand.

"Oh wow," Mia says when you waddle into the room holding a bag of chips. 

"Weird right?"

"A little," she laughs. You join in, knowing how strange this entire scenario is. You feel like a baby hippo meanwhile Mia looks like she just stepped off the runway.

“So nice to see you,” she says, giving you an awkward hug as she avoids the bump. “I brought a little something for the baby,” she hands a wrapped gift to Dieter, “and one for you.”

Dieter unwraps the package, bringing out a first edition copy of Winnie the Pooh. Your eyes widen at the sight. That must have cost her a fortune.

“Thanks babe,” Dieter says warmly, kissing her. You look away, unwilling to watch and unwrap your gift from Mia which turns out to be a delicate crystal flower vase. Arguably one of the most useless things on the planet since you hate flowers. Dieter knows this and you think you catch a curl of amusement in his face.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you falter.

“I know,” she says sweetly. “I just saw it and thought of you.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say, careful not to exchange amused looks with Dieter across the room. You shoot a soft smile at Mia. “Thank you so much. I’ll go pop it in my room so it doesn’t get broken. Magda tends to be a little chaotic when she cleans.”

You turn, about to go down the hallway to the bedroom when you feel something like tension in the room. You don't know why you pause but you do.

"I thought you were staying in the guest house?" She asks you but her eyes are scanning Dieter’s face.  

“She was,” Dieter explains, hoping his cheeks aren’t red. “But there were roaches.”

Mia’s face scrunches. “Roaches?”

“Yeah,” you finally fumble, rubbing absently at your stomach. "The guest house needed to be fumigated and that’s not safe for the baby. That’s the only reason I’m in the guest room. I’ll be out in the guest house as soon as the fumigation is over."

Mia nods, but you don't miss the lingering look there in her light eyes.

With Dieter in Prague for the next few weeks you have a lot of free time to yourself. The only problem is you have no one to spend it with. You can't be seen in public now without a bodyguard save for your short walks through Dieter's Calabasas neighborhood. Phone calls with your mom are no longer an option. So you spend most of your time scrolling through social media, watching movies and swimming.

Dieter has always been annoying but he's the kind of annoying that brings you comfort now. Without his loud presence in the house you start to feel lonely. A strange feeling you've never really experienced due to your busy lifestyle. 

It makes you long for the sound of Dieter's record player in the art room. Makes you long for his brash laughter during a funny commercial. Makes you long for the way your voices worked against one another when practicing lines, the sound of him muttering to himself when he reads something that interests him in the paper, the way he rasps your name when he’s just woken up.  

All the sounds of Dieter that you realize have come to be their own comforting symphony to you. 

But he’s with Mia and that's how it should be. They're on the same level. And you know that these feelings are from your hormones. This warmth will fade the second this child is taken from you and is likely contributing to this lonely feeling that arises with you each empty morning.

He’s only been gone four days but those days seem to stretch into eternity. Your mind is usually so full and your schedule packed. But you’re almost annoyingly free right now. Dieter has made only one request of you and that is to update the app every day at least once. He says it makes him feel less guilty about leaving, even though you're the one who encouraged it.

So you do.

29 weeks

Cravings

SALT

Vanilla

pie filling

chips

peanuts

Missing

the ability to see my feet

Baby is size of butternut squash

The only thing that tethers you to Dieter are the sporadic text messages he sends you. Where you once found his constant need to stay in touch annoying, now you crave his random messages, re-reading them with a smile.

[1:44pm] D: I hate not speaking Czech. I feel like everyone is making fun of me and I have no proof. [1:44pm]: You're being paranoid.  [1:44pm] D: I'm not!!! [1:46pm] D: Okay maybe a little. Mia and I did an edible.  [1:46pm]: Dieter! [1:46pm] D: Diane said no hard drugs! Edibles are natural. 

You roll your eyes. 

[1:47pm]: Whatever. Hope you're having fun. 

You wish you could see his face when you recall Mia's instagram. You forgot you follow her. The second you click on her story you wish you hadn't. It's her and Dieter in a gorgeous spot in Prague chatting with the caption: Czech us Out! @BravoitsDieter

Your loneliness hits you on the fifth day quite acutely. And instead of turning to television or swimming you lay on your back in bed and stare up into the ceiling before your fingers fumble for your phone and you type hurriedly.

[6:08am]: I think he has your hair. [6:12am] D: Huh? What?? Why? [6:12am]: They say if the mother has lots of heartburn then the kid will have lots of hair. Right now I feel like my heart has been dropped in acid.  [6:13am] D: No way. I thought babies were always bald. [6:13am]: Not always. I wasn't. Were you? [6:13am] D: Dunno. Never saw baby photos of myself.  [6:14am]: Why not? [6:14am] D: My mom cared about stuff like that. When she died my dad just put everything in the attic and tried to forget. 

You didn't know that about Dieter. You've heard snatches of information from other staff that Dieters dad is a low life, but to not save photos of your kid? That seems cruel. 

[6:14am]: I'm sorry. [6:15am] D: NP. [6:15am] D: Mia is taking me to a museum so I gtg ttyl

You frown at the phone.

"What a bitch," you murmur before stopping yourself. You think about how your baby can probably hear sounds outside the womb now and you feel guilty.

"No, actually, she's not a bitch. She's really lovely and she's so good for your dad."

Your hands drift over your belly slowly, subconsciously as you speak and soon your eyes follow suit. 

"Strange to think you're just in there all snuggly," you tell your belly with amusement. You gasp when you think you can feel a slight flutter within you abdomen. 

"Is that you?" You wonder aloud. "Can you hear me?" 

The fluttering continues and you feel something in you shift. Your heart squeezes pleasantly.  He rarely moves around for just you. It seems he's most active when Dieter is nearby.

"You're really in there," you laugh to yourself. "And you can hear me."

The lonely feelings begin to dissipate. You're not alone - you have your son to keep you company. You talk to him through the day. You make jokes about bubble having Dieters hair. You talk to Bubble about the book you read on the porch. When you watch a documentary you narrate for the baby. 

You update the app with a cheerful photo of you making a heart over the bellybutton with your fingers. You think Dieter will get a kick out of it. 

When you go to bed you put the headphones over your belly and hit play on the walkman.

"This is a new one from your Dad," you tell your belly wryly as you position the foam on either side of your bump. "So I apologize now if it's fucking annoying."

With a serene smile you go to sleep with his muffled voice against your skin. And when you wake up on the sixth day you feel good. It's not until you look at the calendar that you're reminded of Friday's date.

Your birthday. 

The first one without your father. It makes your stomach drop. 

As if all of California has gotten the memo the day is grey and drizzly. You spend most of the day napping and eating whatever Petra has put together. But by mid afternoon you’re feeling restless. You try walking around the block, but the weather drives you back inside. You try to distract yourself but nothing seems to work.

Petra and Magda have gone home for the day. It’s just you and bubble and right now it feels like it’s just you. You decide to order a pizza for dinner, and as you wait for your Hawaiian Delight to arrive you can’t help but reach out to the one person you wish was here.

[5:48pm]: How is Prague? [5:50pm] D: Boring. [5:50pm]: Only you would say Prague is boring, Dieter. [5:51pm] D: In the airport now. Gonna go to Germany for a couple days. Mia really wants to see Cologne Cathedral and apparently they’re doing some once-in-a-decade tour event thing. I dunno. How’s the bubble? [5:51pm]: Still here.

You don’t know why you’re both still calling him Bubble. The tabloids have made it impossible not to be aware that you’re pregnant after all. But there’s something sweet about referring to him as your little Bubble.

[5:52pm] D: airport is so fucking noisy and I'm so tired. found coffee though.

[5:52pm]: Make sure not to drink too much. You won’t sleep on the plane. [5:52pm] D: U didn’t update the app today. [5:53pm]: Sorry, been distracted. [5:53pm] D:??? [5:53pm] D: How come?

You have no desire to get into this over text. Besides it’s not Dieters problem, it’s yours. And it’s not a problem it’s just. . . life.

[5:55pm]: Doesn’t matter. Here, this will have to do.

You attach a picture of your hand over your swollen bump and send it over.

You’re surprised when you see Dieter calling.

“Hello?”

“Why are you distracted?”

“Dieter don’t you have better things to do than call me about this?” You say rolling your eyes, but still delighted to be hearing his raspy voice. “Aren’t you in the airport?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t Mia with you?”

“She went to get another magazine for the flight. You gonna tell me what’s going on? Is it the Bubble?”

“No,” you say grunting as you lean back against the sofa.  

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine!”

“Cmon,” Dieter cajoles. “You know I’m just gonna keep calling and texting until you tell me.”

“Its pregnancy brain,” you throw out, hoping this will satiate him.

“Liar. Your voice always does that clipped thing when you lie.”

You can’t help but feel a small smile cross your features. You hear the distant boarding call for his flight and you decide you might as well tell him. It’s not like he doesn’t already know that your dead is dead.

“It’s just… It’s my birthday. The first one since my dad died and ...."

You trail off. You hear silence on the other end of the phone and then a soft fuck.

“Dieter?”

“I thought it was next month,” Dieter is murmuring and you can hear him tapping on the phone. “Fucking calendar. Fuck. I thought it was next month same day. That’s what I have it as. Fuck. This is why I don’t program my own fucking electronics. Fuck.”

“Nope. Today,” you clarify, amused at how frazzled he sounds. “But it’s not your problem. It’s just this is my first birthday without my Dad and, my Mom isn’t talking to me and I realized I’ve worked so hard so long I have no real friends and…. It’s just…”

You break off when you feel tears starting.

“Anyway, not your problem,” you say forcing your voice up an octave. “I’m only telling you because you asked. I hope you and Mia enjoy your trip! I can’t wait to see photos.”

“Hey, wait-“

“I gotta go,” you say, brushing the stray tears that have escaped. “Pizza guy is here. Bye!”

You hang up the phone and then place it on silent. You don’t want to talk with him anymore. You don’t want to talk with anyone. You just spoke to Dieter but that doesn't stop you from missing him. It gets to the point where you pull up old interview footage with him on YouTube just so you can hear his voice and see his smile. 

When the pizza arrives you pay the guy delivering it, but then you just shove the box in the fridge. You take a shower, letting the tears mingle with the steamy droplets before pulling on a new nightdress. You grab the walkman and headphones, about to put them on when you pad t the kitchen for a glass of water.

You walk back, about to retire to your guest room, walking past Dieter’s bedroom. You’ve rarely ever been inside it and never when he isn’t at home. But something about today compels you into it, something make you push open the door and walk to his bed.

The room is recently cleaned by Petra, the bed freshly made, the floors sparkling, his clothing put away. The fireplace is off but you switch it on, noticing his tattered green robe freshly washed and hanging on the back of the bedroom door. You don’t even think about it, you just pull it on over your sleep dress and stumble into his bed.

Dieter’s bed is so comfy, even better than the one in his guest house and room. You curl under the sheets, burying your face in his pillow. It smells like his expensive shampoo and the cologne he sometimes wears. It brings tears to your eyes. 

You wish he was here. 

You turn onto your back, tummy swollen and resting heavily. It makes you long for Dieter in all aspects. Not just to fuck, but to spend time with. He's so different from anyone you know. He doesn't follow rules or social norms. But when you're with him you feel calm and not judged. It makes you feel like you can let go. 

"Your daddy really is wonderful," you murmur to your belly, stroking it. "You might hear bad stuff but you need to know what a good heart he has. He's so generous and funny and he loves so deeply. You're not even here yet and he's so in love with you." 

You look at the walkman resting beside you, and instead of putting it around your abdomen something inspires you to put the headphones on yourself. You’ve never listened to the message before but tonight you do.

You slip the cheap foam over your ears, rewinding the tape and smiling when his voice sounds out over the tape.

“Hey little Bravo, this is your dad speaking. I just found out you’re gonna be a boy. Woah. My son. Uh, I need you to know that you are so special and that when you’re born we’re gonna have so much fun. I’ve already made a list of places we’re gonna go. And-“

It goes on like this for several minutes with Dieter excitedly detailing all his future plans for he and his son. You hang onto every word, enraptured with the life he has in store for his son. You imagine a future with Dieter holding a baby with his same wild hair. And in this future you see him reach for a woman, but she isn’t you. It’s Mia, and she looks so happy with them. The perfect family.

Dieter’s voice draws you back in.

“You need to know that your Mom loves you just as much as me. I watch her patting you and whispering to you all the time. She told me last week that you were the size of a head of cauliflower. Then she started humming a song about her cauliflower son.”

You laugh out loud at the memory of you swimming a few weeks ago humming a tune about a cauliflower son. You didn’t even realize Dieter was paying attention.  You turn your attention back to the recording.

“I just want you to know how much I love you. I love you so so much. I’m so excited to meet you.”

You stop the tape, rewinding it.

“I just want you to know how much I love you. I love you so much.”

You sniffle, rewinding the tape again.

“I just want you to know how much I love you. I love you so much.”

Again.

“I love you so much.”

Again and again you rewind to hear that section. And as you finally drift off into sleep it’s to the gentle sound of the man you desire whispering how much he loves you.

Dieter arrives at home late, toeing off his sneakers as he yawns, scratching his belly before heading for his bedroom. The suitcase is left at the front door, tomorrow’s problem. He’s exhausted from the flight and he needs to get some sleep before he talks to you tomorrow morning.

He opens the door to his room, preparing to throw himself into bed when he notices the fireplace is on. He pauses, seeing you in your bed lying on your side sleepily soundly. A small smile curls onto his lips when he sees the bright yellow walkman in your hand, fingers loosely around it. What strikes him is that you're wearing the headphones; you don't have them around your belly. 

Dieter is quiet, looking down at your peaceful sleeping face illuminated by your bedside table. One of your hands is splayed over your belly protectively and this makes him smile. He gently pulls the earphones from off your head, sliding the walkman from your grip and placing both on his nightstand. 

He figures he’ll sleep in the guest room tonight, musing that you’re playing musical beds tonight.

You murmur something sleepily, something be doesn't catch. He takes a minute longer to look at you and then his face hovers over yours. He kisses you softly, an innocent press of his lips to yours. 

"G'night baby mama."

You shift partly awake, arms reaching out to wrap around his neck. He grins, allowing himself to get pulled into the bed next to you. You’re so warm. You don't say anything; you just snuggle up against him, face nuzzling against his neck. 

"Go back to sleep, baby," Dieter tells your sleepy frame. "Just turning the light off."

He presses a ginger kiss to your temple before his free hand clicks the light next to the bed.  

"Okay, love you, g'night," you murmur, still mostly dozing. 

Dieter is silent, unmoving as your words rattle around in his head. He waits until you're snoring before he finally replies. 

"I love you too."

TAGLIST: @getitoutofmymindwrites @manuymesut @whirlwindrider29 @mostardentlypascal @lu62 @missladym1981 @heareball @sptbear @drewharrisonwriter @lizzie-cakes @daddy-dins-girl @moel-jiller @tammythr @guelyury @lilyevanstan1325 @lu62 @sptbear @staywildflowahchild @whirlwindrider29 @pedropascalsbbg @cherrycosmos392

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #fic rec chapter reblog #trash panda queue

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

I've added several of his songs now...it's all your fault. 🤣

I have a scene planned where Dieter is making dinner (pre-hookup) and I needed a sexy song or two...because tension. 👀

There is nothing wrong with that way of life. Feel free to send recs at any time. I need to expand my musical library (badly). 😂

Closed Position: Extra

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist

Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)

I haven't done any writing on Closed Position this week. I know! I'm sorry. There were a few details I was still thinking through that happen later on and I wanted to be sure I was on the right path to get us there. However, I have been working to nail down those details and fill in my outline with the important stuff. I think I have a pretty solid path set at this point, so I feel a little more confident going forward with writing.

Since I don't have any snippets to offer this week, I bring you a mood board of things to come. Each image represents an event that aligns with some part of the plot.

👉🏻 It’s time to start throwing out your conspiracy theories based on the mood board! Let me have them!

Behind the Scenes

In addition to working on my outline, I've also been doing A LOT of research, as I always do. That includes details on hotels and prep/filming schedules for tv shows to really nail down the 'behind the scenes' aspect of things. I'm even making song choices for Dieter & Kat’s performances based on the beat count required for each dance.

Believe it or not, these types of details do help form the plot of the story. Sometimes those small details will spark an idea for putting the characters in situations I wouldn't have thought of otherwise. While it does seem a little crazy to do, it does actually help me in writing...but it does make me a little slow sometimes. 😬

So what have I researched this week? Here is a running list...that may offer some hints of what's to come:

Flight Times

Directions & travel times

Hotels in NYC (that meet certain criteria)

Rehearsal/filming schedule for a certain show that's filmed at 30 Rockefeller Plaza.

Kinesiology and Physiotherapy

Hydrotherapy and Electrotherapy

Alcohol and Drug Recovery

Codependency/Relationships in Recovery

Dance positions, counts, terminology, etc.

What have I recently watched for research?

Dirty Dancing (I hope you’re ready for some references and jokes… because nobody puts Bravo in a corner.) 😉

Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights

Take the Lead

Dance with Me

Lots of Dancing with the Stars videos on YouTube and the last two seasons that are currently available on Disney+.

A shit ton of instructional videos for ballroom dance.

That all seems very random, doesn't it? This makes me wish I would have done this for Destiny & Deliverance, because that would have been wild research topic list. 🤭

No ETA on the next chapter, but I can say it’s probably going to be another long one since I am doing it by the show ‘week’. Some weeks there is a lot to squeeze in. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Until next time,

💜Mysty

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

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

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

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

CP Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @morallyinept @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions @myloveistoolittle @for-a-longlongtime @copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter @burntheedges @stevie75 @bunniboo0015 @quicax3 @jackie923 @sherala007 @pastelnap @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @jessthebaker @rebel-held @gwendibleywrites @senorabond

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #dancing dieter #soft dieter #reblog love

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Beccaaaaa! You've hit my feels again!

I love this line...

You're drawn to his bedlam as much as he’s drawn to your peace.

Complete opposites, but also a perfect match...

This was such a sweet and perfectly intimate moment with the perfect amount of underlying tension because he will be leaving soon.

Ahh, now the bookmark make sense (dummy me read them out of order). It makes it that much sweeter now that I know.

Loved it! 💜😘

in fiction

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x gn!reader

Rating: M. MDNI. This blog and its contents are 18+.

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Dieter comes to bed.

Warnings: Established relationship, mentions of self doubt, no physical description of reader, no dialogue, no use of y/n.

A/N: I wrote about Joel coming home and wanted to do something similar for Dieter. To me, Dieter is soft and deserves some fluff. Thanks to @for-a-longlongtime for looking over this and getting me out of my own head about it!

You left him at the other end of the couch hours ago. His hands held a script and yours held a novel. When morning comes, a car will roll up the gravelled drive to collect him for a shoot. You hoped that maybe your exit would have prompted him to follow but instead he stayed seated, one leg tucked underneath him, whispering words from the dog-eared pages to himself and the soon to be empty living room.

You carried yourself to bed but continued to read, sliding further down the mountain of cushions that are propped up against the velvet headboard. The words became increasingly difficult to absorb and you reread the same paragraph over and over until you eventually drifted off, book still in hand.

Some hours later, you’re woken from the light slumber by the familiar bumping on the other side of the wall – he’s finally coming to bed. He never walks or runs up the staircase. He trudges or bounces over the plush carpeted steps depending on what the day has thrown at him. A squeak of rubber across the hardwood floor tells you he's finished his climb.

The doorknob turns and he peeks around the frame before crossing the threshold. He wants to see if you’re still awake. After closing it quietly, he offers you a soft smile – trying hard to balance it out with sorrow and glee. He’s sorry he’s late to bed and that he’ll be forced to leave again but joyful that he can squeeze in some time together.

But before you can both indulge, he heads for the ensuite bathroom. You know the sounds and the order you’ll hear them. It begins with the tune he hums over the buzz of his toothbrush echoing off the bright white tiles. You never could figure out how he managed to get splatters of toothpaste that high up on the bathroom mirror.

The humming is halted by a crash. Stainless steel against ceramic. If you could see through the wall dividing you, you’d place a bet that the sleeve of his too-big robe got caught on the nozzle of the soap dispenser and sent it careening into the sink. Again. A hissed self deprating fuck follows it.

Whether Dieter is two feet away, or two thousand miles always, he always finds a way to bring a welcomed noise into your life. In the silence of the early morning hours, separated by timezones, your phone would vibrate over the wooden nightstand. Sometimes it’s an I wish you were here with a picture of the inside of a hotel suite. Other times, it’s a picture of a pigeon with no context other than the word Look!

You're drawn to his bedlam as much as he’s drawn to your peace.

He shucks off his champagne-coloured corduroy robe and throws it over the end of the bed, revealing his worn lavender t-shirt underneath. It’s a perfect picture before he slips out of his crocs and reaches over to flick the switch on the lamp on the nightstand, turning the room the same shade of black as the tattoo on his arm.

When he exits and turns off the light, he tiptoes around to your side of the bed. The bed that’s too big for both of you when you share it and will feel gigantic come sunrise. He takes the book from your hand and places it on your nightstand, pages down so you don’t lose your place.

Every time he comes back from travelling, he curses himself for not remembering to buy you a bookmark. Though he’ll still tell you about all the funny ones he saw through his sunglasses in airport stores.

You’ve come to learn he’s predictably unpredictable. You never know if he’s going to ask the most thought-provoking question about how the planets aligned themselves or if he’s about to tell you about the meatball sub he ate two years ago, describing down its last garlicky notes and the texture of the bread.

And just like that, you don’t foresee him climbing into bed from the bottom of the mattress, but he does. Clambering over the puffy duck feather duvet, he drapes his upper body over your legs, splaying himself across you, and rests his scruffy cheek on your stomach. Almost in unison, you both sigh at the sensation.

For a few seconds, he’s still in the new darkness that’s drowned the bedroom. Still enough that you can feel the slowing pulse in his neck beating against your bare skin and the steady jets of warm air that leave his nostrils pour over your lower belly.

Calm enough because everything about this is just that – enough. His signature smell of amber combined with the crisp mint on his breath is rapidly becoming your own personal sleep tonic as your eyelids threaten to become heavy again.  

It doesn’t last long. His hand is quick to search for yours, now unburdened by your book and when he finds it, he places it on the crown of his head.

What he wants is simple – just move your fingers through his disobedient curls.

You grant his wish; your fingertips glide gently over his scalp in lazy and uncoordinated motions. Tonight, leftover residue from his hair gel coats your fingers as you massage his head. Other nights, they catch on hardened flecks of oil paint that have fallen from his paintbrush and knotted his hair. Sorry, sorry, you’d whisper when you’d feel his lips twist against your flesh, wincing at the tug. His own knuckles find a slow rhythm, swiping back and forth across your waist.

The tiny groans of pleasure that your fingers cause him to illicit as they brush through his dark strands soon switch to soft contented snores. It's tempting to turn and check the time but doing so would turn the clock into a timer that would count down the minutes until his inevitable departure.

Sleep has found him. It’ll find you shortly too. Safe in the knowledge that he’s not persecuting himself about a performance that’s yet to happen, or whatever other pressure is weighing him down. For now.

Both of you will sleep through the alarm that’s set far too early and he'll wake with a jolt of panic. There won’t be time for breakfast or a shower. You’ll be left with a lingering kiss and that everlasting promise of a new bookmark.

He’ll return home again in one form or another, much like the creatures written in the chapters of your fantasy novel. In time, you’ll be a chapter in his autobiography.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #fic rec chapter reblog #trash panda queue

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Bahaha! This gif makes me laugh so hard! Happy to give your day a good start! 😘

He really does. Now that he has finally opened his heart...there is SOOO much there to give. Talia is going to be the one struggling a bit this time believe it or not...but Dieter makes everything ok.

Exactly, you know how it ends this time. I promise there will be some surprises thrown in though. 😘

WIP Wednesday

Happy Wednesday my lovelies! Today I bring you something...sort of new-ish? For those of you who read Destiny & Deliverance, you know that I was planning to do a little extra something for foster care and mental health awareness month in May. I have started working on it since I was suddenly hit by the ‘Daddy Dieter’ bug again thanks to @auteurdelabre and her wonderful fic (A Little Sun).

So, for this WIP Wednesday, I bring you a snippet from Written in the Stars - Luca's adoption story.

My face softened, realizing now that he really wanted this, “Dieter, this isn't a dog. It’s a whole fucking human…and not even a baby. He’s gonna have feelings, emotions, and…trauma. That’s a lot to take on.”  He sighed, “I-I know…I don’t think there’s anyone more equipped to handle trauma than us though…I’m the only person he knows. If we don’t take him, he’s gonna go to the foster facility or be placed with a random family. I can’t let that happen…he’ll be terrified.”  I ran my fingers through the top of my hair as I stared at him, “It’s temporary?” Dieter nodded. “Are you gonna be able to handle that? Will you be able to handle giving him up?” He nodded again, “As long as I go into it knowing that’s the plan, then yes…I c-can handle it.”  I wasn’t completely convinced with that answer. Dieter had been doing so well the last several years, but this was certainly something that could trigger a manic episode for him.  “And what if they can’t find another place for him to go? What if it’s not temporary?” He let out a controlled breath, “Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

As previously mentioned, this will be a one shot to expand on Luca's story. It's going to be angsty, as usual. However, if you read D & D, you know how things end up. Are you ready for some more Daddy Dieter & Talia? Do you think this situation will cause tension between these two based on the snippet? How do you think each of them will handle this journey?

Until next time,

💜Mysty

D&D Taglist: @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94  @hisandsnakes 

@chaoticfestninja @survivingandenduring @partyofone3413 @wannab-urs @cakipy-blog

@titlee78 @poodlebae @guelyury @missladym1981 @maried01

@alokaerza @samiamproductions @misstokyo7love @themonadiaries-blog @madnessofadaydreamer

@darkheartgatita @avastrasposts @weho2kcmo @harriedandharassed @tkchaos

@girlofchaos @yghuibt @musings-of-a-rose @annieispunk @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat

@copperhalfcent @bunniboo0015 @indiegirlunited @babycatkitty @stevie75

@jessthebaker

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #daddy dieter #sober dieter #reblog love

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Ummm ma'am. Excuse me! EXCUSE ME!?!?!?! These are all so fucking perfect and on the nose. I've added them to the playlist 💜

I've never heard Steven Rodriguez prior to this...I am 100% feeling his sound (I even found another song of his to add already lol). Listening to his whole catalog now. He sort of reminds me of Chris Stapleton, but more rock/bluesy. That 'Like You Mean it' song is 🔥🔥🔥.

Closed Position: Extra

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist

Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)

I haven't done any writing on Closed Position this week. I know! I'm sorry. There were a few details I was still thinking through that happen later on and I wanted to be sure I was on the right path to get us there. However, I have been working to nail down those details and fill in my outline with the important stuff. I think I have a pretty solid path set at this point, so I feel a little more confident going forward with writing.

Since I don't have any snippets to offer this week, I bring you a mood board of things to come. Each image represents an event that aligns with some part of the plot.

👉🏻 It’s time to start throwing out your conspiracy theories based on the mood board! Let me have them!

Behind the Scenes

In addition to working on my outline, I've also been doing A LOT of research, as I always do. That includes details on hotels and prep/filming schedules for tv shows to really nail down the 'behind the scenes' aspect of things. I'm even making song choices for Dieter & Kat’s performances based on the beat count required for each dance.

Believe it or not, these types of details do help form the plot of the story. Sometimes those small details will spark an idea for putting the characters in situations I wouldn't have thought of otherwise. While it does seem a little crazy to do, it does actually help me in writing...but it does make me a little slow sometimes. 😬

So what have I researched this week? Here is a running list...that may offer some hints of what's to come:

Flight Times

Directions & travel times

Hotels in NYC (that meet certain criteria)

Rehearsal/filming schedule for a certain show that's filmed at 30 Rockefeller Plaza.

Kinesiology and Physiotherapy

Hydrotherapy and Electrotherapy

Alcohol and Drug Recovery

Codependency/Relationships in Recovery

Dance positions, counts, terminology, etc.

What have I recently watched for research?

Dirty Dancing (I hope you’re ready for some references and jokes… because nobody puts Bravo in a corner.) 😉

Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights

Take the Lead

Dance with Me

Lots of Dancing with the Stars videos on YouTube and the last two seasons that are currently available on Disney+.

A shit ton of instructional videos for ballroom dance.

That all seems very random, doesn't it? This makes me wish I would have done this for Destiny & Deliverance, because that would have been wild research topic list. 🤭

No ETA on the next chapter, but I can say it’s probably going to be another long one since I am doing it by the show ‘week’. Some weeks there is a lot to squeeze in. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Until next time,

💜Mysty

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

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

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

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

CP Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @morallyinept @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions @myloveistoolittle @for-a-longlongtime @copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter @burntheedges @stevie75 @bunniboo0015 @quicax3 @jackie923 @sherala007 @pastelnap @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @jessthebaker @rebel-held @gwendibleywrites @senorabond

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #dancing dieter #soft dieter #sober dieter #closed position song recs

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

So happy Marcus and reader finally had an honest chat. I love that they are on the same page about everything and both miss Dave.

Marcus taking over that dominate persona though...🥵🔥

I wonder how Dave would handle that version of Marcus...ugh, the thots.

Dave, get your head out of your ass and come back to them please! They miss you!

Such an excellent, but emotion chapter! I can't wait to see how all this plays out when Dave inevitably comes back (or when they hunt him down). 💜

Playdate - Chapter Nine

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 9.1k

Notes: All the feelings in this chapter... I'm so sorry everyone. I swear I have an end goal in mind and I'm gonna make it better... just not YET.

Chapter Warnings: (skip if you don't wanna be spoiled, if you've made it this far in the series, you'll be fine). 18+ MDNI. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Confessions of infidelity. Dry humping. Oral Sex. 69 sex position. Unprotected p in v. Creampie. Daddy Kink. Rough sex. Breathplay. Daddy!Marcus. Dom!Marcus. Aftercare. Consensual somnophilia. Lots of feelings. Severe lack of Dave York (I'm so sorry, I'll make it up to you I swear).

HUGE thank you to @janaispunk for beta'ing and letting me talk her ear off when I get an idea in my head and helping me work it out lol. And also for calming my anxiety every time I go to post a chapter :P

You woke up to a bed that seemed suddenly too large and missing the warmth Dave’s body heat provided it with. Marcus was sleeping soundly next to you and you’re not even sure when that had happened or when he got in but clearly it was after you had passed out.

But where was Dave? Did Marcus walk in and find you and him in bed together and an argument ensued? Surely that would have woken you up so you quickly shake that notion from your head. Maybe everything was fine and you were freaking out preemptively over nothing. Dave had probably just gone down to the lobby again for coffee and when he came back the three of you could sit around and hopefully have an honest and open conversation. That sounded, to you, a logical reason for his whereabouts as any so you decided you weren’t going to begin to fret about something without any warrant and snuggled up to your husband to wait, but when nearly half an hour had passed and he didn’t return, you decided to pull out your phone to send a text in your group chat.

Your throat nearly dropped into your stomach at the words that greeted you when you opened it.

Dave York has left the group.

Without giving it a second thought you quickly scroll through your contacts until you find his name and hit the call button but after a single ring it goes to voicemail. Unsure what exactly that means you try for a text instead. Simple, direct, to the point.

Hey, are you ok?

The blue bubble pops up on your screen and you wait, however neither the “delivered” or “read” notification appears underneath it and that’s when it hits you.

Dave has blocked your number.

Confused and hurt, you toss your phone over to the nightstand where it clatters to the surface, skids across the smooth wood and then falls to the carpeted floor with a light thud, though you couldn’t be bothered to care right now. The commotion however rouses your husband who, lying on his stomach, quickly pushes himself up onto his elbows and glances around the room before his gaze lands on you.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, voice groggy with sleep.

You don’t answer him right away, because, how could you. Everything. Fucking everything was the matter! What you had done last night, it all comes flooding back to you in an instant and you suddenly feel overwhelmed with emotions and you have no choice but to burst into tears, your knees coming up to your chest as you wrap your arms around them and bury your face, shoulders shaking with every sob that leaves your body.

“Honey! What…” Marcus sits up in an instant, panicked. His arms immediately envelop your frame and his voice frantic as he pulls your whole body into his lap and holds you close to his chest. “Hey, hey, hey, shhhhh. Sweetheart tell me what’s wrong” he tries, fear still lacing his tone as he attempts to appear outwardly calm, holding you to him and gently rubbing a hand up and down your back.

You feel so absolutely wracked with guilt that you can’t even find words to even begin trying to explain yourself to Marcus so instead you just bury your face further into his throat and let him comfort you, though you know you don’t deserve it. The moment he hears what you have to say for yourself you fear he’s going to be putting as much distance between the two of you as possible so you need him to just hold you a little while longer before that happens. It’s selfish. You’re selfish. But at this moment, you don’t care. How could you have done this to Marcus? And for what? For Dave to just leave you both like that? Like these months have meant nothing to him? You want to believe that’s not true, but what choice has he left you with?

Marcus worries endlessly as he holds you in his arms, honestly surprised you’re even allowing him to hold you but he’ll take it for as long as he can get it. Dave must have told you what he’d done yesterday while you were asleep and now look at the problems it’s caused.

You both lie there in each other's arms, taking in whatever comfort you can get from one another. You’re openly sobbing while Marcus’ tears are more subdued, but definitely still there. You can feel them on the naked flesh of your shoulder as he buries his face in your neck and the two of you clutch onto each other, terrified of the other letting go. What you don’t realize is that you’re both fretting over the exact same thing.

After several long minutes of just holding each other your words echo each other as you both let them out at the exact same time into the heat of each other’s flesh.

“I’m sorry.”

The words cause you both to stiffen momentarily and then slowly pull back, finding each other’s watery gaze as you both stare, confused.

The murmured apologies eventually turn into a good hour of confessions from both of you. You take turns spilling everything about what happened last night without the other present all while failing to hold back the flow of tears. Marcus admits not only to his indiscretions in the shower with Dave, but how there was no work emergency last night and he’d lied to you because he was too scared that he’d ruined everything. He tells you how absolutely horrible he’d felt, leaving you on your birthday like that but he felt so confused after what had happened, he couldn’t even bear to have you look at him knowing what he’d done and was keeping from you. The admission about what he and Dave had done in the shower nearly had your eyes bugging out of your head, though you tried your absolute best not to outwardly react too much, you didn’t want to make Marcus uncomfortable or have him hold back anything so you kept quiet and mostly just nodded your head, though your brain was working a mile a minute trying to process everything. You’d decided near immediately that you weren’t upset at him for it. The only thing you were upset about in that scenario is that you hadn’t been there to witness it; though you keep that admission to yourself for now. You were upset, however, that he had left. If he would have just stayed maybe you all wouldn’t be in this position now. Maybe Dave would still be here. You know though that Marcus isn’t the only one to blame and it’s not fair to put this all on him. The fact was he did leave, and you did what you did afterwards, knowing full well how it could affect things.

You tell Marcus how Dave had originally left but had come back and that the two of you had slept together. Your tears turned into sobs as you admitted the last part. You knew it was wrong, you felt in your heart that it was cheating, regardless if Marcus saw it that way or not. He’d tried to quickly shrug it off at first, to make you feel better, reminding you that “you’d slept with Dave lots of times” but when you responded with a quiet “yeah, but not like this…” and were unable to look him in the eyes, you could see the moment the realization dawns across his sad, handsome face and he lowers it to look away, gently nodding in understanding.

Marcus swallowed the lump in his throat but wrapped his arms around you and held you tight to his chest, peppering kisses to your hair and ensuring you over and over that he loved you.

It only made you cry harder.

Eventually the tears subside and Marcus drapes the bedclothes over you both and pulls you into his side, gently petting your hair until you both fall back asleep, it was barely 7am after all and you didn’t even know how late Marcus had got in. You still had a lot to discuss but you were both exhausted, physically and emotionally. Your head was pounding from the amount of tears you cried and you just needed to shut out the world for a little while longer, held safe in the comfort of your husband's arms until you fell back asleep.

When you do wake up again, barely an hour later, Marcus is already out of bed and wandering around the suite, freshly changed into a new set of clothes and shoving his old ones into the suitcase you had already packed. There’s a takeout coffee cup waiting for you on the bedside table when you open your eyes and you sit up, wordlessly taking the simple peace offering and taking a drink.

You get through a few sips but your stomach is doing somersaults. All the anxiety and emotions of the last twelve hours or so wear heavily on you so you place the cup aside and climb out of bed, holding the sheet tight around your frame as you head over to the dresser where Marcus had kindly laid out your last clean outfit for you.

You barely speak a word to each other as you both get ready to leave this room behind. Occasional questions like “did you remember to grab your toothbrush” or “is this your lotion or the hotel’s?” as you putter around the room and prepare to leave.

Finally everything is packed, you're both dressed, the room is mostly back in one piece and you’re ready to go. You meet Marcus at the door and you both take a breath, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as your shoulders settle and you reach down and slide your hand into his. His fingers interlace around yours and for the first time all day you finally feel grounded again.

“Come on, let’s go home” he says, pulling the door open with his free hand and guiding you out.

The first week that you’re back home goes by in a blur. You both had to go back to work on Monday and you manage to settle back into your usual routines easily enough but there’s still a strain between the two of you. You know you need to talk more but had both decided you needed time to just let everything sink in and process. You missed Marcus immensely, despite the fact that he still slept in your bed every night and kissed you goodbye every morning, things were far from how they were before your birthday weekend happened.

Perhaps fortunately or unfortunately for you both, your work lives were very busy. Typically Marcus left before you because his commute was longer and you both worked long shifts most days so your time together at home while you were both still awake and functional was limited. Some nights you managed to both be home to eat dinner together, but this week it was a pretty quiet affair. You’d ask each other about your days, small talk mostly, and then if you weren’t too exhausted you’d cuddle on the couch and watch a little tv before bed and start the process over again the next day. Despite the rift, you still wanted to be close to each other. Neither of you were angry at the other; more so at yourselves than anything. That, and you were confused. It was hard to have a conversation together about all the feelings you were having when you hadn’t quite sorted them out for yourselves. And with Dave AWOL it made it even more confusing and hurtful to navigate. It was difficult to figure out where the three of you stood when there were only two of you willing to talk things out.

Your mind often wandered to Dave, particularly when you were at work and would have a few minutes of downtime. You pulled up your private message chat with him every couple of days too just to see if your single text to him ever got marked as ‘delivered’ or ‘read’, wondering if he’d unblocked you, but nothing. What was so frustrating is that you know it wasn’t one-sided. It couldn’t have been. You know what he felt with you that last night together because you felt it too. Perhaps the real reason he left is because of his loyalty to Marcus, he didn't want to be a burden on your marriage, but the truth was Dave just enriched it. And you had a feeling Marcus might feel the same way, you just needed him to admit it to you. You hoped the two of you would have a good chance to talk this weekend, you felt like it was time.

Saturday evening was finally upon you and you lay on the couch after a simple dinner, wine glass mostly untouched on the coffee table in front of you as you half paid attention to the movie playing on the TV. Marcus had had a busy day, having to work for a couple hours from home in the morning and then running some errands for his elderly father that he typically would do on a Saturday. Today took a little extra long due to him being away last weekend for your birthday so by the time he got home he was exhausted so you had offered to cook and now the two of you were laid out on the sofa, Marcus behind you with his back to the cushions and you on your side snuggled with your back to his chest and laying your head on his arm.

You attempt to focus on the movie playing in front of you because you know how tired your husband is, but he makes it difficult when the fingers of his right hand trail absently up and down your side where your shirt slightly rides up, the delicate trace of his fingertips leaving goosebumps on your flesh in their wake. You shift slightly and in doing so the fabric of your shirt catches a little more on the seat of the sofa and rises up further, and Marcus’ hand reaches a little higher too until his fingers are at your ribs. You let out a little whine at the contact. He’s barely touching you but it's more than you’ve had all week and you’re missing him so desperately so you give up the facade and turn fully onto your back, causing his hand to slip even higher until it rests just underneath your breast.

You hear his breath hitch slightly and he turns his head down to look at you, your soft, wanting gaze boring into his. Wordlessly you reach your hand up to rub at the side of his neck and turn your body again so that you’re face to face. He moves his hand voluntarily, finally, splaying it across your breast and giving it a gentle squeeze, his breath catching in his throat when he sees your eyes fall shut and your lips release a hum of pleasure.

“Marcus” you whimper, your voice barely a whisper. “Please”

It’s all Marcus needs to hear. In a moment he’s got both his hands going underneath your ass and hauling you up on top of him, positioning himself on his back with your full weight resting on him, hands still on your ass and pushing downwards to grind you against his already stiffening length. You surge forward, sealing his mouth with yours. The kiss is sloppy and desperate and filled with pent up sexual desire and you’re both moaning into it, reveling in the dominant dance between your two tongues.

“Do you wanna go to bed?” he asks breathlessly a few moments later when you’re forced by lack of oxygen to pull apart.

“Mnnnm mmm” You shake your head before your mouth latches to his again. “Need you” you mumble against his lips. “Take me right here”

“Fuck” he groans, both hands squeezing roughly at your ass as he continues to ground you down into him, his own hips thrusting upwards to meet yours. “God I fucking missed you” he confesses, mouth trailing down the side of your throat now instead as his hands reach up to the waistband of your sweats and push them down along with your underwear.

You help him free you of the confines of your pants, kicking them down your legs and finally flinging them off to the floor while Marcus grabs for the hem of your t-shirt and pulls that over your head. You're grateful at this moment that you had foregone a bra tonight, dressed for a comfortable evening at home. Marcus, on the other hand, is far too overly dressed in your opinion, still in his jeans and a long sleeve Henley. Though you find it hard to complain at the delicious friction the unforgiving denim gives to your now bare core and it's no secret to Marcus either, the way you moan and writhe against him.

“Baby, please” you whine, hands desperately grasping at the buttoned enclosure of his jeans. The button pops open and you manage to drag the zipper down but before you get any further he’s growling into your throat and shaking his head, repositioning your body until you're straddling on just one of his thighs.

“Need you to cum for me first” he demands, already sounding wrecked and breathless and you think he needs you to for his sake as much as your own, probably trying to extend this experience for longer than it would have been were he to push inside you right now like you both so desperately want him to. You let out another moan, eagerly obeying his wishes as your hands go to his chest and you push yourself upright so you’re sat on his muscular thigh and begin to rock back and forth against it, the delicious drag of denim against your weeping cunt creating a wet patch on his jeans that neither of you could be bothered to be embarrassed or care about. His large hands come up and each grab hold of a breast, expertly manipulating and teasing the soft mounds of flesh, thumbs and forefingers coming down to pinch and squeeze at your nipples until they’re hardened peaks under his touch.

“Oh fuck,” you cry out, head thrown back as you continue to ride his thigh, amping up the pace as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm that is just within reach.

“That’s it baby,” Marcus encourages, his own pupils blown wide with lust as he watches you arch your back and grind desperately against him. His hands leave your breasts and go to your hips, helping you reach that point of long awaited bliss. He bares his teeth as he watches your features contort into what can only be described as pure ecstasy and growls out the words that have been lingering on his tongue since he actively took charge of your impromptu makeout session just minutes ago, “Good girl, come on, you’re gonna fucking cum for your Daddy now.”

“Fuck!” His words, along with the relentless rocking pressure of your cunt digging into his thigh sends you flying over that edge with a screamed curse leaving your lips, your arousal pooling out of you, body trembling and spent but Marcus doesn’t let up, continuing to drag your folds along the strong muscle and it’s too much, you try to push off of his chest with your hands but his grip is strong and fierce at your hips, ensuring you get every last drop of pleasure from your prolonged orgasm.

“Fucking soak me baby” he groans and you look down to see the own wet patch he’s created in his boxers that are peeking through his partially opened jeans. It doesn’t appear to be enough that he’s finished and he’s still visibly hard as steel underneath the soft cotton, but he’s certainly gotten himself worked up to the point where the precum is eagerly flowing from him.

Evidently satisfied with you as you slow the rocking of your hips to indicate the waves of pleasure have subsided Marcus repositions you again so you’re lying back fully on top of him. He pushes his jeans down to his thighs but leaves his boxers in place as he gently ruts into you from underneath, the strained fabric of his boxers rubbing against your oversensitive sex, causing you to whimper and tremble.

“Let me suck you baby” you breathe against the hollow of his throat where your face is currently buried. Not only does your cunt need the reprieve but he’s got you so turned on you feel like you might just combust if you don’t get him inside of you in some form or another.

“Yeah? You wanna suck my cock, dirty girl?” Marcus growls and lord help you if it doesn’t send another pool of wetness right between your legs. Marcus was not normally like this. Sure the two of you could get a little kinky sometimes on your own but he’d never been like this before and it was driving you crazy with want.

You both knew what he was doing, filling a void a certain someone had left behind. Something you both craved without having to admit to each other. You both needed this, and so, you went along for the ride.

“Please Daddy, want you in my mouth, please” you beg helplessly, your lust-filled brain reduced to complete mush and barely able to string a sentence together and Marcus audibly groans at your submission to him.

“Turn around, want you to sit on my face while you do it” he breathes against your cheek and then slides his hands down to grab at your ass and squeeze firmly. His hands release you but he gives you one sharp swat to your left asscheek that has you crying out and arching into him before he helps you reposition yourself so you’re kneeled overtop of him with your knees on either side of his head and bent over his body so your face hovers above his pelvis. He pushes his boxers down to meet his jeans at his thighs then brings his hands to your hips to lower you down to his mouth just as your head retreats to take his leaking tip between your lips.

The groan he lets out into your cunt as you fully envelop him in your mouth has your lower half spasming, your thighs involuntarily squeezing his head as your hips chase the pressure of his tongue.

“Oh fuck!” You cry out, mouth falling away from him as you crane your neck back to try and get a glimpse of the feast Marcus is making of what’s between your legs. It doesn’t last long however because his hand comes up and swats at your ass again, reminding you without words what you’re supposed to be doing and you quickly oblige, turning back and doubling your efforts on sucking him off, taking him as deeply down your throat as your body will allow and swallowing down before you ease back up and repeat the action. Your hand soon joins your mouth, wrapping around the base of his shaft and stroking it in time with each bob of your head and he hums and groans his approval of your actions into your core as he continues to lick and suck and prod at your clit and hole with his talented tongue.

When he feels your thighs trembling again and his own release too rapidly approaching he goes for what knows drives you crazy and will easily pull another orgasm from you and sucks your clit into his mouth, relentless and unforgiving until your mouth rips off of him and you cry out, your hand pumping him furiously as wave after wave of your orgasm crashes around you and you ramble out little mewls of pleasure and praise at how hard he’s made you come.

He lets out a content, satisfied sigh as he slows the efforts of his mouth, gently bringing you back to earth with slow licks and prods of his tongue until you're shaking and trembling begins to subside and your rocking against his face finally slows. Your hand wrapped around his length has also slowed to barely moving, not having brain capacity or muscle coordination to simultaneously pleasure him and ride the aftershocks of your own orgasm but Marcus is thankful for the reprieve, needing to be inside you before he finishes.

“Up,” he gently demands, tapping lightly against your hip and you pull away from him with a long drawn out groan, your limbs feeling like jelly as you attempt to get control over them again. Marcus chuckles a little but is quick to help you, gently raising your hips and then pushing you forward as he manages to snake his own body out from underneath you until you’re on hands and knees on the couch and he’s behind you.

“Lean forward, just relax” he instructs, pushing lightly on your shoulders so your elbows collapse and you slowly slide forward, knees still bent and kneeling on the couch but your face now buried in the seat cushion. “Yeah, just like that” he coos, fingertips tracing down your spine and you arch at his touch, desperate and ready for him. He lets his hand trail further still, over the swell of your ass until he’s between your legs and he gently plays with you, fingers gliding through your slick folds and up to circle at your clit before they slide back down and prod at your entrance.Your body keens at his touch, back arching, ass up in the air as your arms stretch out in front of you, not unlike a cat waking up from a long nap in the sun and Marcus lets out a little chuckle.

“Yeah, this is where you need me, hmm?” He rasps, voice low as he teases at your entrance with his fingers. “Poor baby needs her pretty little pussy filled up?” His hand leaves you only to go to his own mouth so he can wet his fingers with his own saliva before he brings them back between your legs and presses two inside of you, curling them just right and sliding in and out of you a few times before he adds a third. It’s so much, feels so good, and yet still not enough.

“God, Marcus, please. Please fuck me” you cry out, desperate and needy, hips beginning to rock back and forth against his hand, anything you can do to get some relief.

He gets up from the couch suddenly to rid himself of the rest of his clothing before positioning himself behind you again, grabbing hold of his hard, leaking member and guiding it between your legs. He groans when his naked flesh finally makes contact with yours, his smooth length pushing back and forth between your wet folds, coating himself in your slick and the tip of his cock teasing at your clit. You whimper unintelligibly at the contact that stimulates every last one of your nerve endings, your whole body keening with delight.

Marcus marvels at how soaked your folds are as he slides through them with ease. “Yeah you’re nice and ready for me, hmmm? Gonna be my good girl?”

“Yes, please, take me. I fucking need you so bad.” You’re not above begging at this point, especially if it gets you want you want, need, crave.

With your desperate pleas still lingering in the air Marcus lines himself up at your entrance and presses forward, filling you completely on the first push of his hips until he’s buried to the hilt, his hands gripping tight around your waist, thumbs digging in deep to the meat of the top of your ass.

“Holy fuck” he groans as he takes a moment stilling inside you, needing a second not only to let you adjust, but to resist his own temptation to let go and finish before he’s even begun. It’s only been a week but it somehow feels like an eternity since he’s last had you. He’s done his best to distract himself with work and other obligations but not a minute of the day has gone by where he hasn’t thought about you, about how much he missed you, how much he needed you. It had taken everything in him not to beat himself off in the shower every morning this week, the only thing holding him back was knowing how much better it would feel when he finally gets the relief the way he wants it; being inside of you.

After a few long moments and steadying breaths, Marcus manages to collect himself and center himself back into the moment. His hands grip you a little tighter and he finally begins to move, pulling back with a slow and delicious drag of his cock against your walls until he’s almost fully out before he slams forward, driving himself back deeply inside with a single snap of his hips that sends you lurching slightly forward, something between a gasp and cry punching out from your lungs.

“Marcus! Oh my - fuck. Baby, fuckfuckfuck” You’re a mewling, writhing mess underneath him as Marcus keeps up his steady pace, fucking into you with reckless abandon, hips pistoning back and forth, fast and hard.

“Yeah you like that” Marcus grinds out through clenched teeth before he lifts his right hand and lands a sharp smack to your ass, causing you to jolt forward again. “Can feel you fucking trying to squeeze me out baby, choking my cock. Good girl. Good fucking girl” he groans, railing into you even faster and you’re reduced to just mumbled cries and gasps into the couch cushion your face is still buried in.

“I can’t hear you” he suddenly growls, one hand leaving your hip to grab your hair and force your head to tilt up and oh fuck if Marcus pulling your hair doesn’t do something to you.

“I fucking love it!” You cry out, breaths coming out hard and fast. “Love taking your big cock Daddy, don’t stop”

“Shit… baby, shit I… fuck!” Marcus curses, not faring much better as he ruts into you like a man possessed. He lets go of your hair and repositions to your hips, his fingertips digging into your sides so desperately that you know come tomorrow you’ll be bruised but you don’t care. You want the reminder, you’ll welcome it even.

“Take me. Takemetakemetakemetakeme” You chant breathlessly, the words punching out of your throat timed perfectly to each of his rough forward thrusts.

Somehow despite you being fucked into a near stupor, you find the wherewithal to sneak a hand underneath yourself and reach between your legs, fingers desperately rubbing fast and furiously against your aching and needy clit. It only serves to empower Marcus, seeing how desperate you are to climax again and despite the less than comfortable position he’s got himself into kneeled on the couch he takes full advantage, leaning down slightly to wrap an arm all the way around your throat so it’s caged in by his bicep, the other gripping the back of the couch to get as much leverage as he possibly can from the position and he doubles his efforts. He pushes harder and faster until the room is filled with the debauched sounds of wet slaps of skin and heavy breathing and moaning and within a few short moments your vision goes white behind your eyelids and you cry out a shuddering gasp turned moan and your hand falls away from your now oversensitive sex as your orgasm takes over, the effects of it gushing out of you and coating Marcus’ length, dripping down to his balls and surely leaving a mess on the couch that you can’t begin to care about right now.

“God Baby, you’re so fucking good, fucking soaking me” Marcus manages, voice faltering along with the steady rhythm of his hips as he bucks into you sloppily now, the sheer force of your constricting walls inciting his own release and with a few more pushes of his hips he begins to paint your insides.

“Holy fuck” he reiterates, body spent and breathing heavily as he slowly continues to rock in and out of you. You whimper and moan underneath him, the overstimulation bordering on too much as you wait for your trembling to subside.

Marcus’ grip on your throat loosens significantly so you can fully catch your breath and he brings his hand up to run soothingly down your back instead, still fucking into you deep and slow and honestly you don’t know how he’s found the stamina or managed to stay hard but you’re not about to complain, he feels that fucking good.

“You want me to stay inside you?” He asks, though you both know he already knows the answer.

You bring your bottom lip between your teeth and manage to mumble an affirmative “mmmhmmm” into the couch cushion.

“Fuck you full of my cum, you like that baby?”

“Yes, fuck,” you tear your face away to the side so your words are no longer garbled into the couch cushion, you want him to hear you. “Fucking me so deep Daddy, holy shit it feels so good.”

Marcus hums his apparent satisfaction at your words, his hand that was gripping the back of the sofa coming to join the other to soothe up and down your back and sides, occasionally smoothing over the globes of your ass before they come back up and make their way up towards your shoulders again. He manages to keep going for another minute or so until he physically can’t, his cock softening inside of you eventually slips out and you both groan at the loss but his hands don’t stop touching you. When his spent dick leaves your swollen sex he leans down and places little kisses all over whatever inch of flesh on your back and shoulders he can reach until finally he pulls away, standing up from the couch and offering his hand to you. You take it, and with a groan (and Marcus’ help), manage to pull yourself up from the sofa. His fingers interlace with yours when he grabs your hand and he wordlessly leads you out of the living room, up the staircase to your bedroom.

Once inside he guides you immediately to the ensuite bathroom and turns you to rest with your back against the countertop while he busies himself grabbing a fresh facecloth from the linen shelf and turns on the hot water, wringing the cloth out a few times before turning off the taps and turning to face you. To your surprise, and a night and day contrast to how he was acting just minutes ago, he sinks to his knees on the unforgiving marble flooring and gently pries your thighs apart and then stares up at you, holding your gaze as he gently cleans up the mess between your legs. Your hand comes down to push through his hair, pushing it back past his forehead and a smile pulls at your lips. Once he’s finished cleaning you up he rises to his feet again, tosses the cloth in a nearby hamper and then his hands go straight to your hips, a gentle barely-there hold and he looks down at them, murmuring under his breath at the little discolored indents on your soft flesh, “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

It catches you off guard, the question. He seems unsure and maybe even upset with himself and you frown, reaching for his face and forcing his gaze back up to meet yours.

“Baby, no, of course not. You could never hurt me”

“Promise?” he asks just to clarify, soft, round brown gaze boring into yours.

“I promise. Marcus, that was… thank you” is all you can think to say. He seems to accept your answer, leaning forward and capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, hands leaving your hips to come up and cup your face as his tongue parts your lips and slips inside to entangle with yours. When he finally pulls away you’re breathless and lean your head forward to rest on his shoulder, arms going around his waist.

“I just love you so much” he whispers against your hair. “I’d do anything for you, you know that?”

“I know” you murmur. “You do do everything for me Marcus. I love you too, more than anything” Your arms tighten a little more around his middle and you bury your face in his neck, unable to hold back the few tears that spill out. Marcus nuzzles at the side of your face and you can feel his own tear stained cheeks as he holds you close in the quiet serenity of your bathroom. You both take a minute to just let the moment settle over you before finally Marcus heaves a little sigh and pulls back, quickly wiping away at his face with the back of his hands.

“Come on, let me take you to bed”

You spend the night in his arms. The steady beat of his heart where your ear lays pressed against his chest lulling you into a peacefulness that you hadn’t felt in days.

Sunday is a whirlwind. The first time you wake up it’s to Marcus with his head between your legs, slowly lapping at you like a cat with a bowl of cream. He’s not hurried or frenzied or even seemingly trying to work towards an end goal of an orgasm for you, he just needs to be close to you, taste you. He lazily licks and kisses and sucks at you while you gently writhe your hips against him, hands lost in his soft hair and fingernails occasionally scraping against his scalp, which you know he loves. He murmurs little sweet nothings into your heated core while he pleasures you for what seems like a small eternity, never tiring or complaining, just reveling in the closeness. You end up orgasming twice during his time down there, which you’d guessed to be about an hour, both coming on quick, strong and sudden and from seemingly nowhere. Your hand fists in his hair and your hips arch upwards and still as he works you through each one and then he continues on. By the time your second orgasm has fully settled you gently push at the top of his head and he takes your wordless request, single digit slipping out of you and mouth moving away from your over sensitive sex to kiss and lick at the insides of each of your thighs, the top of your mound, and eventually making his way up your body until he’s lying on his side next to you.

He’s being his soft, sweet, gentle self this morning, you think it’s his way of making up for last night. Not that he has anything to make up for, at least in your mind.

“Baby,” you sigh, right hand coming up to cup his cheek.

“I love you” he says, in a way that makes it seem like he needs to remind you, like he’s saying it for the first time and needs to ensure you hear him.

“I love you too” you assure him.

He opens his arms and you crawl into them without question, letting him hold you, his arms wrapped around your shoulders and you half draped over top of him with your face resting on his chest. He gently pets your hair and places little kisses to the top of your head while he holds you and you let out a content little sigh, snuggling deeper into his chest. You feel the unmistakable hardness of him between your two bodies but he seems to be trying to ignore it so you do your best not to grind against him like your body’s instincts want you to.

“We should talk” he murmurs against your hair and you gently nod your head in agreement.

“We should”

“How do we start?” He wonders honestly and you shrug your shoulders a little.

“I think first and foremost we need to be honest, no matter how hard it is to say or how hard it may be for the other person to hear”

“I agree” he says quietly, heaving a sigh.

A long silence stretches on before you realize you’ll have to be the one that starts this conversation.

“I miss him” you decide to start with, straight out of the gate. You agreed to be honest, after all, and that was the first thing on your mind, and it’s been on your mind all week. Your voice is quiet, meek even, but loud enough you know he’s heard you.

“I do too,” Marcus confesses, his arms tightening a little more around you, like he’s afraid you’ll be upset with his response.

You do gently pull away from Marcus’ hold, but only because you want to be able to look him in the eyes while you have this conversation so you gently push back and raise yourself up a bit so you’re fully on your side facing him. You settle his nerves by quickly wrapping both your hands around one of his and giving it a firm squeeze, bringing it to your lips to place a kiss on it.

“Why do you think he left?” You ask next, unable to hide the hurt in your voice.

“I don’t know” Marcus sighs deeply, his free hand coming up to scrub over his face. “I thought, at first, maybe you know it was me? Like what we did… he… didn’t like it or regretted it or something”

“Did you like it?” You flip the question back to Marcus. You assume he did, but you two really hadn’t had much of a conversation about it. He’d told you what they did, but didn’t dwell on it or how he’d felt about it.

“Um,” Marcus turns his face slightly away from you and you can see the tips of his ears turning a brighter shade of pink.

“Hey,” you say firmly, hands dropping his so you can place one on his cheek and force his gaze back to you. “Honesty, remember? There’s nothing you can say that will change how I feel about you, ok? Ever”

“I know, I’m sorry” he closes his eyes and takes a breath before opening them again and his gaze finally settles on you. “I… I mean, yes, ultimately. It was amazing. I came like… really fucking hard” he admits with a laugh to cover his obvious nerves and you offer a reassuring smile, nodding your head for him to continue. After a moment, he does. “I don’t know though, like I’ve never done anything with a guy before, or ever wanted to, so I think it was more so because it was Dave, rather than what we were doing? If… if that makes sense?” He tries, trailing off and unsure of how to articulate himself.

And it does make sense. At least to you. Because what had started between the three of you was supposed to be Dave offering you both something different, new, but then last weekend you had been with Dave in a similar way that you are with Marcus and you’d loved that too. And last night how Marcus was with you was everything Dave typically brought to the table and you loved that as well and yet, you still missed Dave. Not just the way he grabbed your hair when your mouth was around him, or the filthy words he’d murmur against your ear when he was deep inside you, or how his hand would tighten around your throat and release just moments before your orgasm inevitably crashed around you, but you missed him. You missed Dave.

“No, I get it” you finally say out loud, gently nodding your head. “Last night was… God Baby, that was fucking amazing” you admit, grin stretching across your features as you tilt your gaze back up to look at him and his own smile tugs at the corners of his lips like he’s elated to hear you say that.

“Yeah?” He questions with uncertainty in his tone.

“Yeah” you affirm with a solid single nod of your head. “But that’s kinda my point. Last night you gave me everything I could’ve wanted before and you did it so perfectly but…” you trail off, wanting to make sure you choose your words carefully but then you don’t have to because Marcus picks up on it immediately.

“But you still miss him”

“Yeah,” you shrug, your voice soft and you bring your gaze down to your lap, fingers absently picking at the sheet covering you. “Is that okay?”

Marcus heaves a sigh, pulling you close into his chest again and you go willingly, snuggling in his warmth and letting him hold you.

“Of course it’s ok”

There’s a long stretch of silence until finally Marcus murmurs into your hair, barely above a whisper but you hear him clear as day, “do you think you love him?”

Tears instantly well in your eyes and you turn your head to bury it in your husband's neck, bringing your own arms out to wrap around him and keep him close. You don’t give him any type of verbal confirmation or denial, because you haven’t really figured that out for yourself, but the non-answer is perhaps an answer enough itself for Marcus. He knows it the moment he feels the hot tears on his skin and he hugs you tighter, large hand splayed across your back gently smoothing up and down your spine and whispering quiet little affirmations about how it’s ok as he holds you in his arms.

You don’t need to assure Marcus that you still love him, or that your feelings for Dave in any way take away from what you feel for him. He knows, because deep down inside in a place that he hasn’t allowed his head or heart to go yet, he knows has similar feelings for Dave too but that it doesn’t change a single solitary thing he feels for you.

“I know, I know” he gently soothes, slightly rocking you in his arms as your tears begin to flow freely.

He continues to hold you, letting you cry until finally he hears you sniffle a few times and he knows the tears have begun to subside before he speaks again.

“I uh… went by his office. This week”

That gets your attention. You gently push away from his chest, quickly swiping at your wet face with your hands before you lean back enough so you can look at him again.

“He wasn’t there” Marcus quickly offers, before you get too invested. “But I asked around and someone eventually told me he took a sabbatical. I guess he was due for one for a while and never took it but Monday morning he came in and put in the request and told them it was urgent so they let him take it” Marcus finishes with a shrug.

Your heart sinks even further as Marcus tells you this. You had no idea it was this bad that Dave would rather abandon his job just to avoid seeing either of you. You still don’t understand it all, what happened. You wish he would just come back and talk to you, explain himself. Even if it was to officially end things, at least you’d know where he stands.

“Wherever he is, I hope he’s OK” you sigh, snuggling further into Marcus. At least you still had each other. Your mind doesn’t want to wonder whether or not Dave has someone in his own bed to help ease the pain away. Not that he doesn’t have every right to, but it hurts your heart too much to even consider that he might.

“Yeah, me too” Marcus echoes your sentiment, bringing his lips down to press to your forehead.

You spend the rest of the day naked in bed together, making love for hours. It’s slow and sensual at first as Marcus explores every inch of your body and you of his, re-cementing your bond through every touch and kiss. You both need this. When more urgent needs arise your pacing and breathing picks up but what doesn’t change is the way you hold each other's gaze the entire time, refusing to look away even as you both reach your climaxes and your eyes beg to squeeze shut. As the day drags on and the sun begins to set outside your bedroom window you’ve lost count of your combined orgasms, only taking breaks when you need a refractory period during which one of you will patter off to the kitchen to get something easy to eat in bed along with some water and bring it back for you both to refuel your energy.

You talk more too, in those in-between moments when your bellies are full and your libidos are taking a much needed rest. Eventually you even get into hypotheticals, what you would have done had Dave not left that night, how it would change things for your relationship going forward. You both agreed you wouldn’t mind him being a more permanent fixture in your lives,if that’s what he wanted. And not just for sex. You wanted to have dinners with him, and lazy Sunday mornings in bed. You wanted him to come over after a long day at work and all cuddle up on the couch together, or for him to let the two of you take care of him in whatever capacity he needs whenever he needs it. You just wanted Dave. Both of you did.

You realize though that talking like that only makes it hurt more, knowing Dave clearly didn’t want the same thing. Maybe you and Marcus had gotten too familiar with him, too close, and that’s why he left. He never signed up to be part of your marriage and maybe what you’d thought you’d felt that last night with him was just delusion on your part. If he’d felt what you felt, how could he have just walked away?

You both ultimately resign to the fact that it’s over, whatever you had with Dave, and you mourn the loss together and make the united decision to put all your efforts into building your marriage even stronger than it had been before. The two of you need each other more than ever to fill the Dave York sized hole that was left in both your broken hearts.

Less than a couple hundred miles away the man in question sat at a small dining room table in the overly priced and blandly decorated vacation cottage he had rented for the summer. The sound of his children laughing and playing in the front yard brought a smile to his face just as he lifted his coffee cup to taste that first morning sip. He’s thankful in this moment to his ex-wife for allowing him to take his girls on an impromptu summer getaway to the quaint little beach town just one state over in Delaware. He missed them, of course, and always wanted more time with them, but really and truly he needed an escape from his life. He knew it was only a matter of time before you or Marcus would come looking for him and knew that Marcus could easily get access into his office building with the credentials he had so he felt he had no choice. He couldn’t face either of you right now, it was too painful. He knew if he didn’t stop seeing you now, he’d never want to stop, and that’s not what either of you had signed up for. It was easier for everyone this way, he’d let you get back to your lives and he would rebuild his own into what it was before. Quiet, solitary, comfortable.

Over the two and a half months he was away he would occasionally pick up his phone and check on your social medias. Neither of you posted a lot, but when you did you always looked happy. Marcus with his arm around you at an outdoor music festival, cocktails on a patio somewhere at sunset, a picture of Marcus in a sharp suit at one of your work fundraiser events standing next to the coat check with a slightly crooked smile on his face and holding your purse for you with your cute little caption that read ‘name a more perfect husband, I’ll wait’. Marcus had ‘liked’ and replied to the post saying “anything for my perfect wife.”

And they were perfect, Dave mused with a heavy sigh, clicking off his phone and tossing it across the table before burying his face in his hands. He needed to stop this, it only made it harder instead of easier. His children were a great distraction during the day, but at nights when he was alone in bed, his mind and his dick always betrayed him and thought of the two of you. He’d wrap a fist around himself and close his eyes, picturing the way you looked up at him on that last night together when he stood broken and desperate at your doorstep. Or Marcus sinking to his knees in front of him in the shower, or the way he felt when tremors racked his body as he came with Dave’s strong arms wrapped around his wet body.

God he missed you. Both of you. And unfortunately for him his sabbatical was coming to an end and the school year would be starting for his kids again and he had to go home, face reality. It was ok though, he doubted you still thought of him or would even bother to come looking for him after all this time. He could go back to the way his life always was. Dave had always been good at compartmentalizing and he could do this, too, he thinks. Washington was plenty big for the three of you, what were the odds he’d even run into you?

He didn’t know it at the time, but he was about to find out.

Likes/comments/reblogs mean the world to me and encourage me to keep this wild ride going so thank you in advance for your love 💜 I really appreciate it!

Taglist (if you want to be added - or removed!, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @missladym1981 @heareball @staywildflowahchild @guelyury @anotherpedrolover @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @runningmom94 @yorksgirl @harrington-thedad @missyorkswhore @disassociation-daydreams

#marcus pike #dave york #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #fic rec chapter reblog #where's my sandwich #trash panda queue