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#esp if it’s enemies to lovers or fake dating
foreverdolly · 2 years
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𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐩𝐭 𝟐 | 𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
summary: you absolutely can't stand your boss. after one bad run in with him, you decide that he's office enemy number one. so when your mother breaks the news that your ex boyfriend is bringing his new fiancé to your sister's wedding as his plus one, you lie and tell her you'll be bringing your very own boyfriend along with you to greece. the problem? you don't actually have a boyfriend. so when austin butler, your arch nemesis of a boss, offers to be your fake boyfriend, you have to take him up on it. greece is a beautiful place to fall in love, no?
pairings: boss!austin butler x employee!reader
word count: 5,588
warnings/notes: SMUT! in future chapters, this is a slowburn, alcohol consumption, austin has had a crush on you for a year, enemies to lovers, one bed troupe, and of course fake dating.
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Light filtered in through the sheer curtains, the fresh morning air gently blowing in to flutter the thin fabric through the window you had left open late last night. Birds chirped loudly from their perches in nearby trees, and if you listened hard enough you could hear the sea lapping against the rocks below your parents home. You knew that you had somehow made it to the guest bedroom last night with Austin in tow, but you were having trouble piecing together the smaller details of the previous night. You knew that at some point that you and Austin had kissed in front of your parents, which hadn’t been anywhere near as mortifying as you thought it would have been. Not only that, but your ex had cornered you in the hopes of upsetting you somehow.
Or perhaps Alex had been hoping to tap into your old feelings for him by playing the “nice, concerned old flame” card. You swallowed your stale spit and regretted it almost immediately, still being able to taste the remnants of last night’s tequila shots. Ever so slowly things started to click into place for you. The second that you remembered the late night conversation with Austin from the night before, you no longer felt even slightly tired. 
Did you regret it?
You tried to blink the sleep from your eyes, trying desperately to come to some sort of a finalized conclusion with this whole mess. He was your boss. This went against every moral code that you had set up for yourself. If you had a list of messy life circumstances you never wanted to involve yourself with, dating a coworker would have been at the very top. Bolded, italicized, and underlined. At the same time, didn’t you deserve this? Austin had certainly gone out of his way to show you that he truly cared. He had been patient with your family, had gone above and beyond to sell the supposedly “serious” status of your relationship, and even took care of you last night when you got a little drunk.
Not to mention the fact that he had scared off your hideous ex, standing next to you like a great big shadow the entire night so that the guy wouldn’t try to get you alone again. You hadn’t truly been cared for like this in. . . well. . . maybe ever. Sure, Alex had done the things that all shitty boyfriends were known for. He’d bring you flowers, but only when he knew that he had fucked up. He would sit down and let you cry to him, but only when he made you shed those tears. He owned up to his faults- only when he knew that there was no way out of the lies that he tried to weave. 
Austin had listened to you when he didn’t have to. He had asked questions about your feelings when he wasn’t obligated to. He had been careful and sweet around your entire family, but only because he was naturally like that. You weren’t the type of person that had your “dream man” all written out on paper, but if you did happen to do that, you were positive that Austin would check every box. Everyone deserves happiness, so why didn’t you?
You had a bad habit of self sabotaging things for yourself, especially when it came to any sort of romantic entanglements after the big break up. After the first date, you would always look for a reason why there shouldn’t be a second one. A sweet, gentle greek god had been served to you by the universe on a silver platter, and what kind of an idiot would that make you if you didn’t take it? With that thought in mind you slowly turned over to your opposite side, nuzzling your cheek against the newly washed pillowcase. Your parents' fabric softener smelled familiar. Smelled like home. It helped you to relax and soothed your anxiety. 
The sight before you was wholly unfamiliar though. Austin looked incredibly peaceful when he slept, his glasses haphazardly tossed onto the bedside table behind him. His wavy blond hair caught the light from the window perfectly, even his eyelashes were golden. He had fallen asleep on his side, facing your back, and your heart fluttered as you wondered if part of him had wanted to embrace you last night. His hand was placed on top of the pillow that he had put between your two bodies, as if he was reaching out, wanting to be as close as possible. You took your time looking over the soft planes of his face, and then down the sharp line of his exposed jawline. You made a map with your eyes, taking a note of each place you desired to take your time traveling. He looked like a child when he slept, his lips slightly parted, his perfectly sculpted cupid's bow on full display. 
You could very easily fall in love with this man. 
The thought terrified you. It made you want to run and hide. Shrink away and deny any further kindness. You were famous for running when things got tough though. Things didn’t disappear if you ignore them, especially uncharted feelings. Slowly his eyelashes began to flutter, his head lifting up and off of the pillow. His eyes squeezed tight, trying to shield himself from the bright rays of sun. His hair looked like a halo, the curls now wild and untamed thanks to the cotton bed linens he had slept on.
“Morning.” He grumbled, plopping himself right back down onto the pillow, rolling over so that he was on his back. He stretched, letting out a deep sigh before raising his hands to his eyes. He rubbed them roughly, and for a second you worried that he might poke his own eyes out. You chuckled lowly, nuzzling your face even further into your own pillow.
“Good morning.” Slowly he removed his hands, turning to face you. For a second the two of you just stared into each other's eyes, and perhaps he was looking for even a shred of regret about what was said. 
He was considerate. Austin must have known how drunk you were last night, and maybe he was worried that you hadn’t meant anything you had said. All he found was your smiling face and flushed cheeks. He was gorgeous. How had you not noticed how handsome he was before now? Had you been so blinded by hatred that you couldn’t even stop to admire him? Sure, you understood that he was attractive, but not like this. His eyes were so blue that it nearly hurt you to meet his gaze. You wet your lips, your muscles tensing as his eyes followed the movement of your tongue. He rolled his own lips as he watched, though snapped himself out of it after a few moments. 
“Are you hung over?” He asked, his lips twitching up into a grin. You hadn’t really taken the time to listen to what your body was trying to tell you. You’d been far too preoccupied with giving yourself an early morning pep talk.
“Not too bad, no. Just a little sluggish, is all.” You were sure that once you finally stood up though, you’d feel like death. Thanks to Austin forcing water down your throat the entire night, you felt better than you would have expected. You were sure that your sister was a different story though. 
She was most likely in her hotel bathroom, upchucking what little food she had eaten last night.
“What about you?” You returned the sentiment, your eyes flickering down to look at his hands. He was using his thumb to twist the ring on his pointer finger back and forth. A nervous habit, you realized.
“I didn’t drink enough to leave me hung over the next morning, thankfully. I didn’t have a drop to drink after that whole Alex incident. Wanted to be on top of everything, just in case.” You felt like your heart might explode. You bit your lip, remembering his words from last night.
“You put your hands on her, I put my hands on you.”
God, now you felt like you were about to overheat. No one had ever protected you like that before. The two of you laid in silence after that, just looking at one another. Really looking. It almost felt like you weren’t just seeing him, but understanding him. Looking through him. His honest eyes told you everything that you needed to know. Your legs no longer felt unsteady, and the terrain under your feet finally leveled out. Safe. You truly felt safe with him. Not once had he judged you or your reasonings for even bringing him here. He knew, he understood and he cared. When people stared at you like this, you often found yourself scared that they might be able to point out certain flaws. You tended to shy away from lingering gazes and searching hands, stepping back until you were just out of reach. You let Austin see it all. You gave it up willingly.
“Do you. . . Do you regret anything about last night?” He finally asked. You let your eyes flicker down to watch his lips as he spoke. You watched him shape the words, wanting more than anything to lean in and taste them.
“No,” You met his eyes as you spoke. “I meant it.”
Ever so slowly he pulled the pillow out from between you, moving it so that it was behind him on the large bed. With the barrier between the two of you now gone, Austin reached his hand up, delicately placing his fingers against your shoulder, letting them slide down your arm. You couldn’t help but shiver at his gentle exploration. 
“Well then, let’s just take the day for ourselves, yeah? Tomorrow is the wedding, but for now let’s just. . . be us.” No acting. No pretending to be something that you weren’t. You nodded, slowly moving to sit up. He didn’t remove his hand from your arm, rather he sat up too. After a year of knowing one another, it felt like you two were finally part of the same orbit. When one moved, the other did too.
“I should probably take a quick shower. I’m sure I look terrible.” The arm that he wasn’t touching moved upwards, your fingers combing out your frizzy hair the best that you could. He was quick to shake his head.
“You look beautiful in the morning. I was just thinking about how nice it was to wake up next to you.” He immediately noticed how much weight those words carried, and was quick to physically bite his tongue, dropping his hand quickly. “God, that sounded hor-”
“Beautiful,” He raised an eyebrow, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “That sounded beautiful. Thank you.”
You could have stayed in that bed all day and night, talking about nothing in particular, or better yet- nothing at all. Staring at him had already been the highlight of this trip. You climbed out of bed, moving over towards your luggage so that you could pick out an outfit for the day.
“The beach.” Austin threw his legs over the side of the bed, watching you as you gathered your travel size toiletries. “Why don’t we go to the beach today?”
Your parents had dragged you to the beach during your last visit, but you had been too busy moping around to enjoy the fresh air and sprawling blue ocean. “Good thing I packed a swimsuit.” You plucked it out of your bag as well, turning your head just in time to see his face light up with an excited grin. 
You were quick to shower. You shaved your legs as quickly as you could manage without cutting yourself, and scrubbed hard at your skin, wanting nothing more than to wash away the previous night. Today was a fresh start. With Austin. You stared at yourself in the mirror after you had put on your bathing suit, silently thanking the gods that you had managed to pick out your cute one in your rush to get packed. Was this beach trip a first date? It had to be. You didn’t want to think too far into things, but were beginning to get a bit nervous about it all. What if you said the wrong thing and blew it all, making the rest of the trip awkward?
You also didn’t want to run the risk of coming on too strong. Guys often shied away from females that came off as being too clingy. You stood in front of the mirror for a few more minutes, combing out your hair and making sure your dress was comfortable enough to wear in the heat. You walked out into the living room after taking far too long getting ready. Your eyes found Austin’s tall form right away, his broad back and long legs on full display. He was wearing a pair of dark green swim trunks and an airy cotton shirt. When he turned around you saw that it had laces on the front, which he had left untied. Why did he have to look delicious in everything he wore? He must have noticed the weight of your gaze, because he flashed you a knowing look, his lips turning up into a small smile. You’d been caught checking him out. 
“Austin told me that the two of you are going to the beach,” Your father spoke up from his spot in front of the stove, holding up his french press in a silent offer.
“Yes please.” You told him, moving further into the kitchen so that you could grab the mug of freshly poured coffee.
“Yeah, we decided we didn’t want to spend the day indoors. This is his first time in Greece, and I wanted to show him around a bit.” Your mother was sitting in the living room, her legs kicked up on the couch. She was sipping on her own coffee, reading a book that you couldn’t quite read the name of from where you stood.
“I think that’s a great idea, Y/n.” She spoke up. Your father had made Ladenia- a simple bread made with tomatoes. It was one of your favorite things to eat as a child, and he liked making it because it was both easy and delicious. You cut yourself a slice, motioning towards it as Austin eyed you. He nodded his head, moving to stand closer. Now that you had finally admitted to yourself that you were attracted to him, it was hard to fight off the nervous butterflies. Even being near him, something that should be simple, made you feel like you were going to die. 
You felt a little embarrassed over how giddy you felt. It was almost as though you were in high school all over again. Austin Butler had regressed you back into a squealing sixteen year old girl. You were pleased to see that you weren’t the only one that was affected though. When you looked down at Austin’s arm all the hair was standing on end. Jesus- has anyone ever liked you this much? If they had, they certainly had never shown it.
“You two better hurry up and eat so that you can get there before it gets too warm. Austin looks like he burns easily.” The man in question swallowed the food that was in his mouth before protesting.
“I tan beautifully, Mr L/n.” He teased. Your father chuckled, shuffling out of the kitchen so that he could sit on the couch next to his wife. It was strange how well the blonde blended in with your family, almost as though he had been a part of it for all of his life. He seemed comfortable around your parents, and now that he had finally gotten his work-crush off of his chest, he seemed to be a lot more comfortable around you too. He bumped into you with his shoulder, nodding towards the door.
“You wanna go ahead and walk down there?” You were eager to be alone with him, so you were quick to dust the crumbs off of your hand, moving over toward the fridge so that you could grab a water bottle.
“We’re leaving! See you guys later.” 
For a second the two of you walked in silence, Austin soaking up the sun and the beautiful view. The fresh air felt amazing, especially with the smog that you were used to back in New York.
“Your parents were definitely on to something. I could retire here.” He finally spoke as the two of you stepped out onto the sand. You were quick to slip your sandals off, kicking them into a small pile next to the cold bottle of water. You watched as grains of sand stuck to the condensation, realizing that it would probably get in your mouth later.
“I could too. It’s beautiful here, and all of the people are super welcoming. Once you get out of Athens, it’s not so much of a tourist trap anymore.” The locals had taken your parents in with open arms, befriending them and teaching them all about their culture. Your father had taken a real shine to it, and it made you happy to see him so passionate about something. A part of you had been relieved when they told you that they were moving. You didn’t want them to be trapped in the same small town for the rest of their life. Thankfully they had broadened their horizons.
“If we were here for longer, I’m sure that my father would have given us the grand tour.” You told him, grabbing the bottom of your dress and lifting it over your head. Austin stared at you for a second, and you quickly realized that he had never really seen you out of anything that wasn’t business casual up until yesterday. Now you were standing in front of him half naked. He wasn’t shy about checking you out. He looked you up and down and after what felt like an eternity, he lifted his heated gaze off of your breasts and instead looked at your face.
“Then we should come back again soon.” 
You weren’t sure what that meant. Was he implying that you two would come back again in order to keep your parents thinking that you were a couple, or was it something that he wanted to do as. . . as an actual item? You didn’t say anything in fear of coming off like an idiot, because what if you were getting too far ahead of yourself?
“Yeah. . . That would be nice. Dad really likes you.” Austin slipped off his own shoes, sliding them over next to yours before shrugging off his shirt. Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull.
Is this something that should be legal? Guys. . . Guys like this shouldn’t exist in the wild, right? You stared at him for a second, eyes wide and lips parted. You heard him chuckle, and were quick to look away, instead turning your gaze out to the blue ocean.
“We’re both physically attracted to each other. Good to know.” You weren’t sure why, but you wanted to hit him. He sounded too smug, all while you were practically melting from embarrassment. You never had been good at masking your expressions, and you had just openly gawked at him. 
Austin didn’t give you any extra time to overthink things. Instead he reached out, grabbing your hand tightly in his, and began to yank you towards the water.
“Slow down, daddy long legs! You’re dragging me!” You tried to keep up with his long strides, practically running at his side, your feet sinking deep into the sand. He laughed loudly, his nose wrinkling as he looked down at you.
His nose scrunches up when he laughs.
If he didn’t pick you up and wade straight into the water, your heart might have burst. You screamed as you were quickly dunked in, right up to your neck. You reached out for him so that you could grab his shoulders, pushing him down under you. You blinked away the salt water from your eyes, laughing loudly as he resurfaced, his wild waves now flat against his head. He spit some water out, raising up his hands so that he could wipe at his face.
“Unfair.” He was quick to say, reaching out for you with his long arms. You were quick to dodge him, grinning ear to ear. The two of you swam in the water until your fingers and toes began to prune. Austin gathered up shells from the ocean floor, showing you each exciting discovery. Things felt simple; felt good with him. 
When he grabbed onto you, his hands didn’t wander. He didn’t say anything crude, like most other men had done during previous dates. It felt like you were with a friend. . .  a friend that was openly attracted to you, and wanted to date you exclusively. It was hard to believe that you had ever been able to hate him. The side of himself that he was currently showing you wasn’t the same person that you recognized in the office.
You felt special, and that was a rare thing. It made you feel hopeful. After ingesting far too much salt water, the two of you laid out on the sand, soaking up the early afternoon sun. Your conversations throughout the entire day had been light hearted, some flirtatious remarks tossed in every now and again, but none of the subject matter felt too heavy. It was obvious that he was being cautious, not wanting to scare you away. When he started chewing on his lip, a nervous habit that you had picked up on, you knew that there was something on his mind.
“Speak.” You ordered him light heartedly, shooting him a grin. He turned to look at you, giving you a sheepish smile before moving his body fully to face you.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I just want to get to know you a little better.” He offered, digging his fingers into the sand. 
You swallowed thickly, nervous of what kind of questions he might have, but nodded anyway.
“What. . . What happened between you and Alex? I got the impression that it didn’t end on a good note.” The people in your tight knit circle all knew the story, and had for years. It had been a long time since you unearthed the memories that you had buried down deep, but you weren’t opposed to doing it.
Because you owed Austin some sort of an explanation. If you two were going to give dating an actual shot, you needed to be honest with him. You couldn’t cover things up with humor like you were used to doing. With a small sigh you tilted your neck back, closing your eyes against the sun.
“We dated all throughout high school and into college. It was getting to the point where marriage was on the table, and I was expecting that he felt the same way that I did. He broke things off out of the blue. We were good- I mean. . . I thought we were, anyway. We went on a date earlier that day and when we got home we were. . .” You trailed off, turning to look at him.
He winced, balling his hands into fists. “Intimate.” You finished, watching him shake his head. He didn’t seem upset at you, rather upset for you.
“God, that sucks.” He muttered, grabbing the bottle of water to busy his hands. He twisted off the top, taking a few sips before passing it over to you. You thankfully took it from his hands.
“He was dating a new girl a week later, so it’s safe to say that he was-”
“Talking to her already.” He finished for you. 
He picked up a shell, using his fingers to break off small pieces. Without looking at you he spoke again.
“So my earlier observations were right. He is an asshole.” Despite the serious nature of the conversation, you laughed, remembering the comment he made back in your cubicle at the office.
“Yeah. Yeah, he is. What’s worse is that my sister was dating his brother, so I couldn’t escape him. I’d always hear about him or see him at family gatherings. That’s why I moved to New York. I wanted a fresh start.” He looked at you thoughtfully, shooting you a small smile.
“Well I guess I should thank him then.” You couldn’t take your eyes off of him when he looked at you like that. His blue eyes looked so soft when they landed on you.
“You’re right. And you wouldn’t have that beautiful pothos plant either.” He wrinkled his nose, barking out a laugh.
“Is that what the thing is called? I just water it twice every week and hope for the best.” You gave his arm a playful slap, and he was quick to grab your hand while it was still in the air between you two, giving it a small squeeze.
“He’s a dick that didn’t realize what he had before it was gone.” 
You weren’t broken. You weren’t healing. You had survived and conquered.
His words, no matter how simple, helped you to realize that. The look in his eyes said the rest. ‘You’re perfect the way you are.’
With a small smile you leaned down, resting your head against his thigh as you soaked up the comfortable heat from the sun. You felt his muscles tense, but after a second he relaxed, placing a hand on your shoulder. He kept it there, a comfortable silence befalling the two of you. The soft crashing of the waves and birds overhead lulled you, and the weight of his hand made you feel safe. You were being vulnerable in front of a man, and that in itself was the biggest leap of faith you’d taken in years. It wasn’t scary either. Not like you thought it would be.
“Don’t you want to take in the view? We leave the morning after tomorrow, and you might miss it.” He spoke softly to you, his sandy fingers moving up to gently twirl a strand of your hair around his finger. You hummed softly, shaking your head.
“I want you to enjoy it for the both of us.” There was something so disarming about that statement, and you weren’t sure why. It hung in the air between you two for a few seconds. 
“I moved to New York after my mom passed- I was telling your father that last night.” He didn’t want you to be the only one to speak about their past. You kept your eyes closed, nodding against his thigh to let him know that you were listening.
“She was the only person that I had ever really loved. She was my best friend, and I miss her every day. I’m kinda like you, I guess.” You licked your lips before speaking.
“Everything reminded you of her?” He cleared his throat softly.
“Yeah. It did. After a while the sympathy casseroles all start to taste the same. I can’t stand being pitied. For a few months there, my dad was calling every day to check in on me.” Slowly you lifted your hand, placing it against his knee. You rubbed your thumb against the skin, listening as his breath hitched. Slowly you started to sit up, looking out at the water. You could tell that the two of you had probably been out for far too long, and you were beginning to get hungry. Austin must have felt the same way, because he reached out for his shirt, shaking the sand off.
“I’m sure my dad is making something for lunch. Do you want to head up?” For a second you were worried that the conversation might have dampened his mood, but when you looked up at him you didn’t see a trace of sadness.
“I’m starving.” 
After gathering up your things the two of you began to head back up to the house. When Austin reached for your hand you didn’t stop him. You didn’t even think about it.
“Thank you for opening up to me. I know that was a big step for you.” And it was. The fact that he could see how much you detested vulnerability made your chest warm and your heart race. He paid attention to you, even when you didn’t think that he was.
“You closed your eyes and let me see for the both of us. I’ve never been so touched by an act of trust.” Us. You had referred to the two of you as a unit earlier without even really meaning to.
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After lunch there was a knock on the door. An obnoxious knock, which told you everything that you needed to know.
“Housekeeping.” Brandon’s sing-song voice filled the house as he stepped through the front door without being invited in. Your sister was close on his tail, smiling when she caught sight of you. Slowly that smile dimmed, then turned into a frown.
“Why aren’t you two dressed?” You and Austin turned to look at each other, your mouths filled with food.
“Huh?” You choked out, fighting to swallow back the leftover orzo your father had laid out for the two of you. Brandon walked over, giving Austin a pat on the back.
“I mean. . . I like the swim trunks, but we’re headed up to Athens for the night.” Austin’s eyebrows furrowed, and he was quick to look down at you. If answers were what he was searching for, you had none to give.
“Are you two so loved up that you forgot about the bachelor and bachelorette parties?” Oh fuck! You stumbled to stand up and off of the chair, fumbling to reach out for your sister’s hands, mumbling your apologies.
“You smell like feta cheese.” She teased, pushing you away from her before pointing at Austin. “What are you just sitting there for? Go! Go get dressed.” He did as he was told, closing the bedroom door behind himself. 
“So. . . did you two make sweet, sweet love when you got back to the house last night?” She wiggled her eyebrows at you, grinning deviously. You were quick to give her arm a slap, ignoring her small yelp.
“Lower your voice! Are you crazy? I’m not having sex at mom and dad’s house.” You whisper yelled, looking over her shoulder in the direction of their room, your cheeks a bright red.
Not to mention you and Austin weren’t really. . . there yet. Or were you? You weren’t sure. Relationships were confusing, and you were out of the loop.
“You’re acting like you and he-who-shall-not-be-named didn’t have sex all the time when you were still living at home. It was part of the reason why I lived in the dorms when I started college.” You rolled your eyes, moving back over towards your food. She was quick to move the plate out of your reach, batting your hands away.
“We’re going for dinner! Don’t ruin your appetite!” You groaned loudly, giving your hair a quick tug before relenting. Tomorrow was her wedding. You could cuss her out after she was married. Austin emerged from the room, adjusting the watch on his wrist. He was wearing dark wash jeans, black chelsea boots that had to be vintage, and a white button up. If your sister and her annoying fiance weren’t in the room, you were damn near positive that you would have started drooling. 
“I’m a lucky girl.” You spoke up, shooting him a smile. His eyebrows raised at your comment, his face brightening as he grinned back. He breezed over to you, leaning down to place a quick peck on your lips. It lasted for only a second, just like the last one, but it had your knees weak nonetheless.
“We’ll be gentlemen the whole night, ladies. We’ll be back home in no time.” Brandon smiled down at you and your sister innocently, and you were quick to scoff.
“No strippers and blow then?” He smiled wider, picking up on your blatant joke.
“I mean. . . maybe?” Austin was quick to look at Brandon, his eyes narrowed with concern.
“Given my position at the company, I do get drug tested once every two months. Besides that fact, I don’t find recreational drug use even remotely pleasurable. Maybe it would be better if I just went with her-”
“Yeah, yeah goodie two shoes. Get your ass in the car.” Brandon began pulling Austin along by the shoulder, the man turning to look at you with wide eyes.
“Just go with it!” You called out to him, unable to bottle up your laughter as his jaw dropped.
“Wait!” Your sister stopped Brandon. “No ‘I love you’s’?” She whined, motioning towards the both of you.
“I love you.” Brandon cooed at her, and you couldn’t help but smile as you saw the look on your sister’s face. You’d never seen her so happy in your life.
“I love you too.” Austin called out to you from the doorway. 
You knew he was just playing along for your sake. You knew that he couldn’t possibly love you already. 
But your heart skipped a beat regardless, your hands shaking slightly as you gripped at the hem of your sundress. 
“I love you too.”
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wardenparker · 2 years
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You’re So Vain - Chapter 9
Dieter Bravo x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
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Oscar winning star Dieter Bravo’s reputation is suffering after the debacle of “Cliff Beasts 6″ and “Beasts of the Bubble”, so his management team has signed him on to a publicity stunt to find his soulmate and show the world a softer side of the erratic and unpredictable star. The plan quickly go awry, though, when Dieter’s soulmate wants nothing to do with him.  
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+! We finally made it! Word Count: 23.6k Warnings: *Blanket warning for chronic illness, cursing, and deceased family members. This is a Dieter fic, folks, so there absolutely will be discussions of drugs, drug use, and addiction.* Enemies to lovers, talk of illness, sex talk, mentions of masturbation, biting/use of teeth, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, protected sex, bath sex, praise kink, hair pulling, sarcasm as intimacy Summary: On your first full day together in Switzerland, there are big changes on the horizon. Notes: For my birthday, I happily bestow upon all of you: more sex! ✨🙌 There is a LOT going on in this chapter, but it is all so very worth it. We’re finally turning the corner into the lovers half of enemies to lovers, so the fake dating tag has disappeared!
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8
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Dieter managed to sleep for nearly fourteen hours, slowly being pulled from the dredges of dreamland by the incredible warmth. He hums slightly, feeling himself crack one eyelid open to find that you are snuggled up against him. Both of you finding your way to the middle of the bed in the night.
The bed jostles under you, shifting you from your dreams, and the first thing you notice is the warm presence beside you. “Mmm?” Still halfway asleep, you instinctively nuzzle closer to the warmth, not registering or even caring what it is, only that it is warm.
This is the morning after he had imagined. Not that he imagined clothes, but just having you shift and your arm sliding around his waist, holding tight to him as your cheek nuzzles his chest. A feeling, peaceful and happy floods him, eyes now open and looking down at you. “G’morning.” His voice is rough with sleep and he clears it gently.
Mmm.” The realization is quick to hit you - why you’re so warm and who exactly you’re cuddling up to - and honestly you just can’t bring yourself to be anything but happy about it. Last night had been nice, and the sun streaming through the windows as you crack your eyes open promises a beautiful day. “Morning,” you murmur, lifting your head slightly to be able to smile at him.
"Look at that..." Dieter blinks a few times and reaching down to smooth your hair back. "You didn't turn into a pumpkin or disappear after midnight." He teases, knowing full well it was after midnight Geneva time when you both had crashed.
“Imagine that.” His large hand seems to span a whole side of your face and it has the oddest sensation of gentleness and almost protection to it that makes you lean in his hand before he can pull it away. “I guess I’m not Cinderella after all.”
Dieter chuckles and continues to rub his thumb over your cheek bone. It's soothing to him, and from the look on your face, you aren't minding it either. "Still tired or are you ready to move a little?" He asks, curious to know what you want to do today.
“Dirty.” You snort, still half-asleep enough to make a lascivious joke out of his question in your head.
Chuckling again jostles you slightly, moving with his chest. "I let you sleep in my bed and you're all over me." He teases, making sure that his other arm is firmly around you so that you don' t move away.
“Totally.” Despite the wry tone of your voice as you finally fully wake up, the easy teasing between you makes you fluster a little like if you hadn’t had to leave last week, this is how you could have been instead.
"Did you research everywhere you wanted to go while you were on the plane?" He asks, knowing that travel is a big thing for you. Especially since you haven't been able to do so in such a long time. "Any idea what you want for breakfast or things you have to see?"
“I think we’re a little past breakfast.” Pointing past him to the clock on the side table, the time very definitely reads midafternoon already. “It’s too late in the day to take a train to Basel. Maybe we could check out the Musée d’Art et d’Historie? I think in summer the restaurant puts tables outside so you can eat in the museum gardens, so we can stop and eat whenever and then go back to wandering.” The truth is that you did extensive research on what you would be able to see and do and have a whole list of ideas, but art museums are at the top of your list.
"The Museum of Art and History is it." Dieter nods, giving you a small grin. "Do you need to shower again, are you dirty from just sleeping?" He smirks as he remembers that night. "I mean...this time you aren't painted in my cum."
“I—um—” You sink under the covers in embarrassment, figuring it’s only a matter of time before your whole burning hot face sets everything on fire. “I’ve…been meaning to thank you for that…” You admit weakly. “I’m not on birth control because I’m just not very active…so that whole thing could have been…it could have been even more complicated than it was.”
"Shit." His eyes widen, shocked at how quickly he would have messed things up for you. "It's a good thing then." He agrees. "I know we are trying this communication thing, but I doubt you - or anyone would want to have kids with me."
“I do want kids.” It’s not something you ever thought you would have - between not ever having lasting relationships and the extreme cost of adoption and en vitro fertilization - but it has always been one of those far off hopes and dreams of yours that you liked to think about right before bedtime to induce good dreams. “Just…I think having one by surprise would not have been a good idea.”
He's surprised at that, but then again, he isn't. You are good with Nora, loving your niece like she is your own. "I agree." He murmurs softly.
“Anyway,” you can feel him going tense and you don’t want to lose the soft, gentle wake up you’ve had this afternoon. The arm you still have around his waist squeezes him gently and you have to wonder if a kiss on the cheek would be too much. It really shows how fucking full circle your opinion of him has come since Disney and that night at the hospital, but you can’t say you’re upset about the change. Sometimes it takes hard truths to bring people together. “Let’s get up and wander down to the museum. I’m sure Libby would be just thrilled if I wore some of the clothes she packed for me and we took a few pictures for Instagram. Then we can lay off and not think about social media for at least a few days.”
“Social media.” Dieter rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “I just don’t get it. Entertainment, okay, it’s mildly amusing, but I want to talk to people.”
“I didn’t even have an Instagram before this whole thing started, remember?” You shrug slightly, shifting in his arms but immediately wishing you didn’t have to.
“I try to ignore mine until I can’t anymore.” Dieter confesses, smirking slightly. “I wish they would just take it over, but they want me to post myself sometimes.”
“We can throw Libby a bone today.” Happily giving in to talking a little more, you resettle in his arms easily. “So she doesn’t call twelve times asking if we’ve killed each other yet.”
“I’m sorry she pushed you to come.” Dieter isn’t really, but is seems like something that he should say. “Hopefully you will enjoy it.”
“I was worried you wouldn’t want me here.” It’s like a truth serum has bashed you over the head all of a sudden, and you can’t quite stop yourself from telling him the whole truth. “That was kind of the only thing stopping me from getting excited. That and the expense, but the way things are now? Last night and this morning? I’m glad you don’t mind having me here.”
“To be honest, I wasn’t too fond of the texting idea.” Dieter tells you. “Too often text can be bad because you can’t hear tone.”
“I didn’t want to ask too much from you,” you admit quietly. “I don’t really know what your life is like when you’re working, and I had no idea if you would actually want to put aside time to talk to me.”
"On set, I don't text or anything." He admits, looking up at the ceiling. "I try to - not to necessarily be in character - but to keep myself focused on the production. I barely every have my phone on me. Keep it in my trailer. But when I'm off set?" He chuckles quietly. "If there's no one to talk to, it would have been me demanding your time like a whiny toddler." He can admit that about himself, especially now that he's sober.
“Well, we don’t have to worry about it now.” Although you do file away the knowledge that he doesn’t keep his phone on him on set so that you won’t get worried or annoyed if he doesn’t reply to something in the future. “I’m here, so anytime you’re not working is time spent together. No whiny toddler necessary.” You shoot him a grin. “The actual kiddo would love some pictures, though. And I have to find her the perfect souvenir.”
"We will have to find her some amazing souvenirs, her and Steph." Dieter agrees before he tilts his head in confusion. "I thought you were spending the summer with her, is she going to go to daycare?" He has remembered talking about it the other day. Why you had to leave instead of letting Steph drop her off at daycare. He understood it, actually liked the idea of summer activities with a little human, especially as one as cool as Nora.
“Actually, um…Rico is helping out at the house while I’m gone.” Not that you had been able to look him in the eye when he got to the house to bring you to the airport. Not now that you remembered the drive back to Dieter’s house from the party. “He seemed excited about it…said it helped him miss his nieces and nephews a little less. And Steph is okay with it, so that’s what matters, really. He’ll look after Nora while Steph is at work and stay long enough to make dinner like I usually do.” The man had seemed nearly ecstatic at the chance to work days and get back a bit of that feeling of seeing his family, and it will help Steph so much. It seemed like the perfect solution.
"That's great!" Dieter isn't surprised that Libby enlisted Rico into helping with the entire situation. That woman was resourceful, and Rico was someone who she could count on for whatever. It was the main reason that she hadn't objected when he had decided that instead of just being his driver slash bodyguard, he had asked him to just work for him doing whatever. Rico had cart blanche in his house and she was fine with it. "He's fantastic, he'll have Nora worn out playing by the time Steph gets home. I'll have to message him to remind him to take her over to the house to swim on those really hot days."
“I appreciate that he was so willing to help out.” They had gone over Nora’s food restrictions on the drive to the airport so he could start to grasp the strangle hold on his cooking that was about to happen. “I…I’m not going to lie, I was shocked when Libby called to inform me of my flight time. But I’m glad I’m here.”
“She does that - take over.” There is something that is incredibly intimate about laying in bed with you and talking about things. It’s relaxing and comforting. Both of you seeming to be even more honest even when you aren’t looking at each other. Maybe it was a good thing that Libby had stuck her nose in it. “At least there’s a trip out of it, if nothing else.” He jokes, stroking your side with his hand. “And maybe you can keep me from bouncing off the walls.”
“I’m not magic,” you tease, laughing a little when he huffs indignantly. “I dunno, when I feel like I’m bouncing off the walls, I try to keep busy. Maybe just having someone with you so you’re not so lost in your own head will help?”
"I— yeah." Dieter acknowledges with no small amount of chagrin. "I think it will help. I know that I'm not...great, but a lot of times I just don't like to be alone."
“I don’t like being alone, either.” That’s something you can definitely acknowledge, staring up at the ceiling of the beautiful suite’s bedroom. “Living alone sucked, and as much as the reason I moved in with Steph and Nora is really hard, I love coming home to them and making a home for them.”
"I'm sorry about your brother." Dieter murmurs softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your spine and sighing quietly. "I know that it was hard for you. I know exactly how that feels. It tears you apart."
“I’m sorry about your sister.” The fact that you both had beloved siblings torn from you is a bonding point that no one should have to share, but here you are. A second after you say it, though, you refocus on him with curiosity. “You said your mom was Swiss, right? Does that mean you have family here?”
Here's where Dieter's smile tightens slightly. Shrugging his shoulder carelessly, as if it doesn't matter, even though it had hurt quite a bit growing up. "I don't…exactly...know." He admits, swallowing harshly and then blowing out a breath. "She wasn't exactly...present a lot." His eyes slide away from yours, not wanting to see pity in them. "Danica - even though she was my twin - she was more of a mother to me than our mother. She's the one I went to when I needed comfort or something was wrong." He gives a small huff of exasperation. "Only reason we knew she was Swiss was because her accent wasn’t like everyone else's and we found her passport when we were - I don't know, 11? 12? God, she got so pissed that we snooped through her stuff. But we were looking for our birth certificates so we could get a library card."
“Is it something you might want to explore? I mean…shit, I’m sorry that she wasn’t there for you. But if you wanted to, I bet we could poke around a little? Maybe just find out what town she was from we can visit?” You’re not suggesting he reunite with his long-lost relatives or anything extreme, but sometimes just being in a place can be cathartic and meaningful all at once. “It’s just a thought. You don’t have to decide right now. I just…you already like it here. Maybe it might be one more thing to like?”
"I was supposed to come here with Danica." Dieter closes his eyes, squeezing them against the rush of moisture. It's been nearly ten years; he's not supposed to cry. "I had just gotten my first part that was being filmed in Switzerland and I was bringing her with me. She was - she was going to be my personal assistant so it was a 'work trip', but we had been excited about it." He sighs. "After...I was just too fucking high to care to look into anything."
“The offer is on the table.” You tell him softly, not wanting him to feel pushed or pressured. That won’t help this trip be a positive thing for either of you. “If you decide you don’t want to, just forget I ever said anything.”
“I’m kind of scared.” Dieter admits. “My father was never in the picture after they divorced. I got his last name and his looks, but never his time. My mother didn’t really want two kids and let us know it. It’s been just me for a long time.”
The feeling that hits you does so like a freight train. It knocks into you with a certainty that is shocking in equal measure with stubborn, and the way it grips your insides and twists. “You’re not alone anymore,” you murmur, turning your head to look up at him. “Not if you don’t want to be.”
His hold on you tightens, just briefly and he has to clear his throat, something stuck in it. "I appreciate that." He manages after a few seconds. "More than you know."
“Come on,” you’re both a little emotional, and you’re not sure that re-crossing that line with him is what he wants, or a good idea, or what, so you lean up on your elbows and try to smile encouragingly. “Let’s get the day started. We’ve lost a ton of it anyway, we should enjoy what’s left.”
"I've got the next two days off." Dieter groans when you shift away, missing your body heat.
“Do you have something else you’d rather do today?” He had only asked if you had ideas - that doesn’t mean that you absolutely have to do the thing you came up with.
"I had just planned on walking around. Being a tourist for the day." He admits, smirking as you climb out of the bed and stretch.
“We can do that, if you would rather.” The museum certainly isn’t going anywhere, and after the heavy moment that just happened between you, you’d rather be easy going about everything. It’s not like you’re anything besides a tourist here anyway. The most you’ve seen of Geneva was the drive from the airport to the hotel.
"How about we walk to the museum?" He compromises. "Do both of what we want?" He wants you to enjoy yourself while you are here. Make sure that you go home with nothing but positivity about spending time with him. Not sure why it's so important, but it is.
“Look at us, communicating and compromising.” The smile you shoot him is broad and a little teasing, but honest. “I’m going to get changed and wash my face, all that morning routine stuff. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
Dieter watches you walk into the bathroom and checks his phone, arching a brow when he sees Libby's text. "Enjoy the present I sent you. Work your shit out. XOXO." Huffing and rolling his eyes at how eloquent she could be at times.
******
It’s about a half hour later that you’re grabbing your purse to leave the suite, with a few quick texts exchanged between you and Steph while Dieter was getting dressed. Apparently, Nora had demanded a geography lesson of all of Western Europe last night so she could see where Auntie Gigi and Uncle Deedee went, and then giggled for a half hour about Gigi and Deedee rhyming. “Ready?” You ask him, hiding a grin as he pats his pockets to make sure he has everything he needs.
"Where's my fucking earbuds?" He huffs, twisting his neck and looking around. "I just had them." He hates being without them, even if he wasn't planning on using them. It's a good distraction technique. If a fan sees his earbuds in, they are less likely to come up to him. Sometimes.
“By the coffeemaker.” Three steps away, you grab the little pouch that they live inside when they’re not in his ears. “You put them down to make an espresso.” Dieter has…eccentricities. The sunglasses. The earbuds. A general refusal to wear socks unless forced. These are things you’ve noticed and try not to harp on anymore. You’re sure there are thing about you that he doesn’t quite get, so why make it into a big thing? Instead, you just hand over his earbuds without further comment.
“Thanks.” Dieter sighs in relief and then tilts his head. “Seems like I’m being extra, but it keeps someone who might come up and interrupt us away.” He explains. “They think twice when I’m wearing them.”
“Makes sense.” You nod, even though you never would have thought of that in a million years. Of course people would hesitate to approach him in ear buds. It’s the same reason Steph calls you on her walk to the parking garage after work sometimes. “I’m used to finding lost stuff for people. You have no idea how many times Nora has lost her Jessie doll’s hat.”
“I’m sure that would be a complete meltdown.” Dieter chuckles and reaches for his sunglasses to hook into the collar of his shirt in case he needs them. He’s actually worn decent clothes, and brushed his hair. A nod to those IG photos you want to take. “You know, I could get Joan to record a birthday message for Nora.” He offers, thinking about it.
“You would be elevated to God status.” You tell him with full honesty. The two of you step out into the corridor and head to the elevator, not minding having to wait a little for it to arrive. “Uncle Deedee being friends with Jessie? She would explode.”
“I did a play with her a few years ago,” He can’t help but grin when you call him Nora’s nickname for him. “I think that is something we should plan for her next birthday. Make it a Toy Story themed event. Get them ponies to ride. Whole nine yards.”
“You’re going to steal my place as favourite extra family member,” you tease, laughing a little but mostly just impressed with his enthusiasm for the idea. “If you’re going to be around at the end of September, I’ll run the idea by Steph and see what she thinks. Maybe…maybe I can help you plan? I mean I don’t know Joan Cusack or anything, but I’m pretty good with kids’ parties, and I can make all the food so that Nora can eat whatever she wants without worrying about accidentally eating something that will make her sick.” The elevator releases a mother and daughter who pay neither of you any mind as they walk past. “Birthdays are usually low key in our family. She deserves a blow-out.”
He has to bite his lip to keep from frowning at your idea that he might not be around for Nora's birthday. Maybe you meant it as if he might be away filming. Hopefully you aren't implying that he would be out of your lives by then. Although, given the past interactions he could see why you might think that. "I don't know shit about planning kids’ parties." He admits, chuckling quietly. "I don't think my idea of party favors are appropriate."
“We don’t…we don’t really do big stuff. This will be the first year that Nora is in school, and the first year she has a chance to really make friends and be social.” The shrug you offer him is more to make him laugh again than anything else. “None of us know what we’re doing. But Steph used to throw big parties for Shawn and me every year that were always fun. So I say we plan as a team.”
"I promise you that we will make it a birthday party that she will never forget." He tells you with a grin. "We will order those bouncy house thingies, get a petting zoo and pony ride thing. Cowboy and cowgirl themed."
“She’ll love it.” The afternoon sun is shining happily when you step outside and you both reach for your sunglasses instantly. Lake Geneva is gorgeous and very reflective. “What do you do for your birthday?”
"I don't know how I should answer that." Dieter huffs with a rueful grin. "It's normally spent being as heathenistic as I possibly can get." He admits, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck. "I think this year will be a little different. More sober."
“Maybe it’s time for some new traditions?” Turning right down the street, the sheer number of people out and about has the two of you shoulder to shoulder almost immediately. “Sober doesn’t have to mean boring.”
"A lot of it was to forget." He doesn't know why but because his hand is brushing yours, he reaches out and captures it, holding it in his. "I'll get some bullshit text about Danica and spiral." He huffs, reminding himself that he needed to not let his mother affect him anymore.
“I can’t say I know exactly how you feel since Shawn wasn’t my twin, but I get it in a lot of ways. It’s only been two years but I already can’t talk to my parents on his birthday. All they want to do is wail about how unfair it is, but do they ever come and spend time with his daughter — their granddaughter?” Realizing you’ve hit annoyed and slightly self-righteous; you give his hand a squeeze and slip your fingers through his to lace your hands together. Having him close talking about Shawn and his sister just feels…less lonely. “I guess we’ll all have new birthday traditions this year.”
“I don’t speak to her.” Dieter announces, wondering if you will judge him for it. “I don’t answer her. Most of the texts are either guilting me about my sister or asking for money.”
“You don’t owe her anything just because she gave birth to you.” That’s something that your own parents had tried on you when you had decided to move to San Juan Capistrano instead of staying in San Francisco and being their live-in caretaker. “It sounds like she thinks of you as an ATM, not a son. So fuck that.”
His brows raise in surprise, looking over at you with admiration in his eyes. “My abuela - god rest her soul - would have loved you.” He tells you. “She would have smacked me upside the head for being rude to you. That woman could make God fear her.”
“It’s not like I was great to you.” It’s embarrassing that that footage of you slamming the door in his face will be out in the world for forever, but things are what they are. All you can do now is try to make it better. “Abuela?” The question escapes you before you can pause, and then the information floats back to the surface of your mind from all those years reading interviews in teen magazines. “Right. Your father was…Cuban? Chilean? I used to know this but now all I can remember is that it starts with a ‘c’.”
"Chilean." He hums, wondering how much you had known about him before that incident where you had decided that you hated him. "She was a wonderful woman. I think it's why my father stayed as long as he did, he was scared of his mother." He laughs quickly before sobering up. "After she died, he quickly exited the scene. I think we were six? Seven?"
“I’m sorry.” A small squeeze of your fingers around his is an invisible-to-the-rest-of-the-world gesture just for him. The longer you spend together like this - not fighting, just getting to know him - you realize he doesn’t have a ton of things that are just his. “My grandparents were never really around just because of where we lived. The couple of times that my parents managed to convince them to fly out for Christmas or Thanksgiving were huge deals, but I can count the number of times it happened on one hand.”
Dieter squeezes your hand in a comforting gesture and is quiet for another few steps. “Well that got depressing fast.” He huffs after a moment. “What were we talking about?”
You chuckle quietly and shake your head, having to admit that he’s totally right. “Birthdays, I think.” The topic had turned to your siblings are such things often do, and you had been sort of okay with it. Mostly because you didn’t really know how to answer the question that was inevitably coming.
"How about your birthday?" He asks, realizing that he doesn't know about your traditions or wants. Wanting to learn about them though.
“Normally we go to the drive-in.” It’s been tradition your whole life, even as a little kid it was such a special way to experience a movie. “Shawn and Steph and I would make a bunch of different kinds of popcorn and pack up a basket of every kind of snack we could ever want. Nora’s favourite is Twizzlers, so now we just get a bunch of different flavours of that.” You shrug though, eyes skirting away from him temporarily to read the street signs. “This year will be…a little different. To say the least.”
"Why will it be different?" He asks, frowning slightly and stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, tugging you to a stop beside him.
“Because…” The pout on his face is actually sweet, knowing that it’s painted there because upset for you and not with you. Still, it’s not something you intended on making a big deal out of. “Unless you know of a drive-in theater in Geneva…I’m kind of shit out of luck.”
“Shit.” Dieter’s face falls and he gives you a plaintive look. “I’m sorry.” He rushes to apologize, knowing that it’s because of him that you won’t spend your birthday doing your tradition. “What if— what if you go home early? So you don’t miss it with your family?”
“It’s next week, and the drive-in will still be there when I get back.” It wasn’t until right now that you considered that spending your birthday with him might actually be nice. On the flight you had been going through ideas of things to do solo and coming up empty being the idea of spending the day alone seriously bummed you out. “There’s nothing wrong with new traditions,” you murmur, trying not to squirm or be too obviously nervous. “Maybe…we could do something together? I mean as long as you’re not working…i-it’s okay to say no, I just—” Too nervous to even look at him, your eyes have tracked back to the ground, just waiting to be told that there is some reason he can’t or won’t want to celebrate the birthday of the woman who spent weeks spitting venom at him. Even with as far as the two of you have come, you wouldn’t blame him for that.
“What day?” He asks, making a mental note to figure out something to get you for a gift. Even if you aren’t going to end up together most likely, you are his soulmate. “I will make sure to tell the director I’m unavailable for filming.” He promises, squeezing your hand slightly. “I wouldn’t make you spend your birthday alone in a strange country with no one you know around you.”
“It’s Thursday…” A week away, and somehow you feel like you could fucking cry just from him promising to spend it with you. It’s probably an overreaction, you think as you squeeze his hand back gently, but at least it’s honest. “It—it’s not really that big a deal, I mean it’s not like I would normally be spending the day in extravagance or anything I just—” You stop, shaking your head at yourself, and actually manage to look up at him again. “I mean, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Dieter sends you a grin and shrugs. “Who knows, maybe by that time you will have gotten to know some of the cast and crew and we can go out together that night?” He offers, wondering if you plan on spending any time on set. “Unless you prefer to just do your own thing while I’m working.”
“I might do a little wandering on my own a few times, but as long as I’m allowed on set I’d like to spend some time…ya know — seeing what you do. It’s going to be a hell of a lot more exciting than teaching teenagers color theory and composition.” The crush of pedestrians around you has pushed the two of you up against the nearest building as you stand there, holding hands and talking through things. “I’m sure we can find something to do without a lot of fuss.”
“No fuss?” Dieter grins and shakes his head. “You do know what the Swiss have for a birthday tradition, right?” He chuckles, a lightly evil look on his face. The streets are still moderately packed, but everyone is keeping to themselves and he is enjoying seeing your reaction.
“No…?” The most you know about Switzerland is chocolate and paintings, but from the look on his face he’s about to either make up the most ridiculous thing in the world or lay down some bizarre fact.
Dieter chuckles, tugging you closer to him and letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around you. Still walking, he leans down to whisper into your ear. “The Swiss hire evil clowns to follow the birthday person around and torment them before pushing a pie into their face for good luck.” He reveals, giggling slightly at the thought of you being chased around by a clown. Not because he doesn’t like you now, he’s just always wanted to see it in person. That fact had stuck out when he was a child and learning about his mother’s home country.
“They do not!” You nearly roll your eyes at him despite the fact that your arm automatically winds itself around his waist in turn. “You’re making that up.”
"I'm serious as a heart attack!" He cackles at your reaction, only slightly disappointed he didn't get fear. He can actually do it if you aren't terrified silly of clowns. He doesn't blame you. The entirety of the last two generations fear of clowns lies firmly at Stephen King's feet and that is a hill he will die on. "It's true!" His body warms where your arm is around him and he makes no move to pull away, enjoying the easy gait the two of you fall into as you cling to one another.
“Then I’m putting in a special request for one of those old-school Vaudeville hobo clowns and not a Pennywise style clown because that scares the shit out of me.” You’re laughing as you walk down the street, and it feels so oddly natural that you can’t question it. It just…is.
"Damnit." Dieter makes a show of snapping his fingers in disappointment. "There goes my birthday surprise." He jokes, jostling your shoulder slightly as he crushes you against him before relaxing his hold to a gentler grip.
“I guess you’ll have to come up with something else clown related,” you snort, grinning at him nonetheless.
He pouts at you, purely because he can and when you scrunch your nose at him, he can't help himself. Even though you are still walking, still making your way down the street, Dieter leans in and drops a quick kiss on your lips as if it's the most natural thing in the world. In that moment, to him, it is.
For a split second your whole body stops working - brain short-circuiting and feet forgetting how to walk - but a moment later the brightest and softest smile creeps across your lips that you couldn’t hold back even if you tried. “What was that for?” The question sounds a little dreamy, but you’re honestly curious as to what about the moment that just passed between you was kiss-worthy. Because whatever it was, you may or may not want to file it away for future reference…
“I’m sorry.” Dieter panics for a second until he sees your smile. “I just— it felt right.” He murmurs lamely, not able to express how good that teasing felt. Just being easy around each other and joking about things. “Your nose scrunch and snort was cute.” His cheeks burn with embarrassment, although he doesn’t know why.
“Snort and scrunch my nose more often. Got it.” The deep shade of pink in his cheeks is endearing as hell and you only hesitate for a bare second before kissing the spot where he’s blushing most. It’s like something a kid would do, and the innocence of it warms you through. “You’re cute when you blush.”
He scoffs slightly, not believing it for a second, but he feels his cheeks heat up even more. “Whatever.” He huffs and shakes his head. “Not cute. Sexy— not cute.” He jokes.
“Nah. The blush is definitely cute.” Shaking your head, you squeeze his side a little with your hand that is on his waist and nod toward the other side of the street where the museum’s imposing edifice awaits. “Come on, Bashful. Let’s go see some art.”
“Thank God.” He breathes out with a grin. “Naked portraits!”
“There he is.” That natural reaction of laughing with a crinkle in your nose and a small snort as the punctuation of the giggle is so normal for you that you don’t really notice you’re doing it, you’re just enjoying the moment of light teasing.
“God.” He huffs, trying to not let his cock ruin the moment but it’s twitching when you repeat the small actions that made him kiss you. “Now you’re doing it on purpose.” He whines as he drops his hand away from your shoulder and turns, standing in front of you and cupping your cheeks while he kisses you again.
When you remember how to speak again, you’ll swear up and down that you didn’t do it on purpose. It was just a silly moment with an accidentally perfect reaction. It’s slow and sweet and both of your arms slide around his waist in the however many seconds or minutes or hours it lasts. Right in the middle of the sidewalk in the busy streets of Geneva, the only thought in your head is him - and that’s enough to have you smiling against his lips in the moment.
Dieter's head swims, making him feel like he's the highest he's ever been. All from the sweet, firm press of his lips against yours. It's not rushed, it's not demanding, more like a first kiss between kids - but it affects him like the strongest drug he's ever taken. Making his eyes flutter shut and his hum vibrate against your curling lips. A response that has him smiling right along with you.
Surprisingly, neither one of you moves to deepen the kiss too much, keeping it light and relatively chaste until you both have to pull away to breathe. Your head is spinning, and your stomach is tying itself in knots as you slowly open your eyes at look at him. “I…um…I’m really glad I came.”
“I’m glad you came too.” Dieter wants to kiss you again, but he doesn’t. Knowing that if he does, you might not make it into the museum.
“Museum’s waiting.” With your lips pressed together to chase the feeling of his on them, you can’t help but fluster a little. You feel like you’re floating, but at the same time like he’s your anchor in a sea of possibilities.
“Naked portraits.” He reminds you with a small grin. “We can find our favorite and see what draws us to it.”
“Planning on picking some to recreate?” One teasing eyebrow raises itself at him as he slips his hand into yours to cross the street together.
“Depends on how they’re posed.” Dieter giggles slightly, happy that you are still teasing him. “Some of those positions are hard.”
“Yeah.” Smirking, you knock his shoulder a little as you cross over to the other sidewalk. “But you will be, too.”
“Fuck.” Dieter has to reach down and adjust slightly as he walks slightly behind you. Tugging on your arm as you still hold his.
Your devious giggle rings out in the air and you shrug at him when you reach the opposite sidewalk. “I had to. The punchline was too good.”
“Mean.” Dieter frowns and pouts at you, but it’s all playful. He’d rather have this version of his soulmate than the one that hated him. “Question before I embarrass myself.” He says suddenly. “Why didn’t you get tattoos?” He asks, wondering why there are no marks on his skin from you beyond the scar.
“At first?” You sigh a little, knowing that it’s not exactly a happy answer. “It was because I didn’t want to cause you any trouble on sets. I know covering tattoos isn’t easy and I didn’t want to make things harder for you.” The shrug you give him is weak at best. “Then it was so you wouldn’t have extra ways to find me,” you murmur, eyes drifting to the ground in embarrassment.
Given what he knows, it’s very in character for you. “We should do it.” He decides with a nod. “For your birthday, we should get you a tattoo you want.”
Your head snaps up again, surprise written across your features that he would even suggest something like that. A tattoo of your own choosing isn’t something you have ever considered, but somehow - from him - it seems like such an intimate suggestion. “Wouldn’t that make things harder for you? More marks to cover?” You’re not looking for an excuse not to do it, you’re just genuinely wondering if your young logic actually made any sense whatsoever.
He snorts. “I would hope that a face or neck tattoo wouldn’t be your first choice.” He admits with a chuckle. “But you have worn all my tattoos that you hate for years. The studios cover them up if they don’t like them.” He gives a small, nonchalant shrug. “What’s one more?”
“I don’t hate them anymore.” That is essential for him to know - that knowing their meaning has changed your opinion on them completely. His triangles for his sister, the elephant for luck and strength and good fortune, the bullseye to remind himself to stay on target. “Maybe we can come up with some ideas during the week? As long as…as you’re sure you wouldn’t mind wearing my mark?” It’s an incredibly permanent decision, and if the time came when he decided he wanted nothing more to do with you, he would still have to look at it every day.
“You’ve worn mine.” Dieter points out, walking up the stairs to the entrance of the museum to get in line for tickets and the audio tour guide log in. “I don’t think it’s exactly fair that I wouldn’t carry something of yours besides the scar on our hips.
“It would probably be something for Shawn, or Nora.” You admit, knowing how your brother and your niece have meant absolutely everything to you in a different sort of way than Steph has. “Or—” A shake of your head interrupts your own thoughts as you pick up a museum map. “Yeah, probably something small for Shawn.”
“Or?” He tilts his head, curious to what you might have said. “There’s no wrong answer when it comes to art.”
“Or…” Not cutting yourself off fast enough meant you knew he would pick up on it and you let his hand go long enough for him to pay for your entry into the museum. “I have this series of water colours I started this summer. The favorite flowers of all my favorite people. Stephy’s pink peonies, lavender for Nora, bright red poppies for Shawn. Yellow zinnias are my favourite. I bet…I bet a little bouquet of water colour flowers would be nice. But that would be a lot for you to wear.”
“Where would you want it?” He asks, actually enjoying the visualization in his head.
“I don’t know.” The idea only just struck you, so it’s not exactly set in stone in your head yet. “Maybe on my back? Like at the shoulder blade? Or on my thigh? Plenty of canvas space in those places, and easy to cover for work.”
“I think on your shoulder blade would be pretty.” He immediately thinks of kissing the area as he’s pulling a backless dress off of you. “But the thigh would allow you to cover it up if you wish. For dresses or whatever. Does your school have a no tattoo policy?”
“They have a no inappropriate tattoos policy, but flowers wouldn’t touch that. And…and this summer is really the first time in a decade I’ve worn anything but long sleeves, so all my work clothes would cover it anyway.” You need hardly remind him the lengths you went through to keep his own ink hidden from the world. “But…it would be on your shoulder, too. Would you be okay with that?” Anytime he went shirtless for absolutely any reason, it would be right there on display.
Dieter looks over at you, raising his brows in an ‘are you serious?’ look. “I think it would look gorgeous and especially because I know the background behind it, anyone who didn’t like it can kick rocks.” He was fiercely protective over his own tattoos and would feel the same about yours.
“Well,” you clear your throat slightly, feeling a little tightness in your chest at the idea. “What’s your favourite flower, then?”
“Lily of the Incas.” Dieter smiles slightly. “My abuela would have a back yard full of them, among her vegetable garden.” He bites his lip, remembering her crooning to the blooms in Spanish. “She had brought them from Chile and babied them.”
“Lily of the Incas, it is, then.” Whatever you had expected, that definitely wasn’t it, and you’ll have to look the blooms up to get a good reference picture to draw from. But it seems…right, somehow? Like his is meant to be there alongside the rest. “And who knows. If there are ever more kids in the family, I can always add more flowers.” In your head you’re mostly thinking of Steph remarrying, but over the last twenty-four hours the idea of actually having a future with Dieter has become not impossible.
He bites his lip, barely resisting the urge to ask you what you mean by that. His heart pounding slightly and he wonders if he’s entered a twilight zone where anything is possible. Instead, he hums in agreement and wonders what kind of flowers you would assign your kids, if you had them. Not with him though. You wouldn’t want that.
The museum is elegant despite being crowded, cool in spite of the August heat, and the perfect place to spend your first evening in Geneva. Even wandering from painting to painting you’re never far from each other and that extends to the game of dragging each other across galleries to whatever random piece has caught your eye.
It’s been a long time since Dieter enjoyed something that didn’t include drugs or alcohol. It’s freeing, being with someone who knows about art. Of course you know, you teach it. So he doesn’t have to explain the style or what it makes him feel. You get it. Making him laugh and trying to pick out pieces that you would never guess he likes.
The Rembrandts are where he nearly loses you, enraptured by a sketching of the painter’s wife, Saskia van Uylenburgh. As much as you may always say you love Impressionists the most - and it may be fully true - portraiture really does have a special place in your heart. From careful lines shaping her face and delicate wisps of hair straight through to the way Rembrandt captured her soft expression and draped her in beautiful clothing to be admired for an eternity…it’s all exactly the kind of romantic moment on canvas that you love and you just can’t tear your eyes away for anything.
You’ve stares at the same portrait for nearly twenty minutes by the time Dieter decides to approach you again. Instead of standing beside you and making some joke about buying it, he comes up behind you, setting his chin on your shoulder. “What’s your favorite thing about it?” He asks, knowing that look on your face.
“She looks like she has a secret,” you murmur after a second, tilting your head to consider the woman in front of you. You ask your students this question all the time, but you rarely pose it to yourself, so it takes you a second to elaborate. “But instead of focusing on that, he has carefully sketched every single hair on her head and the exact way her eyelashes direct her gaze. So we’re not wondering what she’s looking at or thinking about…we’re seeing her with all of his softness and love.”
“It’s his tribute to her.” Dieter hums. “Painting her as he sees her. Through the lens of love.” His hands rest on your waist and he sighs gently. “I wonder how she would have drawn him.”
“I’d like to think her favorite things about him would come through.” Leaning back into the warmth of him, Dieter’s arms slide easily around your waist to hold you close and you swear you nearly sigh at the softness of it. “He drew and painted himself so often. I hope her favorite things about him were things he never realized could be good.”
He grunts against your ear, content to be talking art. “Maybe that’s why I hate self-portraits.” He comments. “Nothing to really like.”
“I do, too.” Tilting your head slightly, you resist the urge to point out that he is an internationally renowned movie star with millions of fans ready and willing to throw themselves at his feet, and instead you leave a kiss on the bridge of his nose. “Maybe one day you’ll let me paint you?” The unruly beating of your heart is something you pray he can’t hear or feel because it’s sure to give you away, but still, you can’t resist asking. If he could see himself the way he looked beside you in bed this morning, he might get the smallest glimpse into his own softness and delicacy.
“If you want.” As much as Dieter was photographed and filmed, being painted seemed intimate. Personal. “We need to make sure you’ve got supplies.” He remembers suddenly. “You can paint while you are here.”
“I brought my watercolors and my pencils.” You admit, heat reaching your cheeks at how enthusiastic he sounds about the idea. “I thought…if you didn’t want me on set, ya know? I could still paint.”
“We – I always get some oils when I’m on set.” He admits, acting like it’s not any big thing. “I paint in my hotel room and normally give away the canvases to cast and crew.”
“We’ll get some supplies, then.” There is no way you’re going to change his routines on him, and if he’s willing to let you do a portrait when he’s already professed to hating them? That is a level of trust that you definitely don’t want to take for granted. Each building block you lay down together is monumental at this point, and you refuse to take any steps backward. “Maybe we can do that tomorrow?”
“That sounds good to me.” Dieter throws you a quick grin. “We can see how we differ on art supplies and you can try to tell me how wrong I am.” He teases.
“Bickering in front of the paintbrushes sounds very on brand for us.” The image alone actually makes you laugh, where a mere two weeks ago it would have induced a cringe.
Chuckling with you, he shakes his head. “Do you want to get some food?” He asks softly. “You have to be hungry.”
"I'm a teacher," you remind him with a rueful grin. "I run on caffeine and the apples my students leave on my desk." With his arms still around you, it's easy to just turn around and let yourself be held close to his chest in the middle of the gallery where you have been standing. "Let's wander down to the restaurant and have some dinner. You must be hungry, too."
“I could eat.” He admits, happy that his stomach isn’t gurgling. “If anything, maybe check out some of the chocolate shops.”
"How about we get dinner downstairs but not dessert, and then go wander through every sweet shop we can find on our way back to the hotel?" A night of hanging out and snacking your way through little boxes of Swiss delicacies sounds like a version of heaven that you didn't even know existed before now.
“That sounds like a plan to me.” It sounds like fun. “I think you’re going to be a dark chocolate caramel with sea salt kind of girl.” He guesses playfully.
"Am I really that predictable?" You throw him a pout as the two of you start to shuffle back toward the belly of the museum. "I bet you are...chocolate and hazelnut. I'll have to guard my Nutella when you're at the house."
“I would sell Nora for Nutella and pretzels.” Dieter jokes with a small laugh. “Or chocolate dipped fruit.”
"I know it's just a giant stereotype of women and romance or whatever, but I love chocolate covered strawberries." Every year on your mother's birthday you'd watch as she opened the chocolatery box full of them from your father and wish that one day someone would spoil you like that. "So I'm totally with you on chocolate dipped fruit."
He groans, rolling his eyes in pleasure at the mere mention of chocolate covered strawberries. “Now you’re speaking my language.” He huffs. “Rico makes them for me all the time and they are so good. Even better when he soaks them in vodka.”
"I'll take you one better." Reaching the stairs, your fingers find his again, lacing together to take the steps at a leisurely pace. "Instead of soaking them in vodka, next time soak them in crème de fraise to double down on the strawberry flavour. Stephy and Shawn made them for me one year for my birthday and I just about cried they were so amazing."
“That sounds amazing.” He is nearly drooling and for s second, imagines feeding you the strawberries and being able to taste them from your lips. “I’ll have to make sure you get some.”
"Some to share." After all, Steph was very right about one thing - you have been lonely. And unbelievably? Dieter seems to be unlocking that door you've been hiding your heart behind for a hell of a long time. "I really...I really think this trip should be as much about both of us as it can be. Since we have the chance, ya know?"
He’s doesn’t know why it shocks him to hear you say that. But it does. He nods, liking the idea of that a lot. “That sounds good.” His hand tightens around yours briefly and he looks over and shoots you a small grin.
The restaurant is buzzing busily when you arrive, and the hostess kindly offers you English menus upon very obviously recognizing Dieter, but she doesn't say a word beyond that. Your table is tucked under an overhang in the courtyard, and you can't resist the very touristy impulse to take a picture to send to Steph. She would love it here, so you're not going to miss a single chance to take pictures for her.
Dieter chuckles as he sits down, opening the menu to peruse the selections. “Switzerland is one of my favorite places, but China was an adventure.” He muses. “I think you would have been amazed by some of the locations.”
"I'd give anything to be able to travel like you do." It's wistful, not bitter, and you grin when you manage to snap a picture of him before he can object or make a fuss. "I mean I know you're working most of the time but even just the little chances to get out and look around you must be amazing."
“It is.” He’s lucky and he knows it. Traveling and working together fed his wandering soul. “You could always be a traveling art teacher.” He suggests. “If that’s a thing. I mean— it should be.”
"Go with you from set to set and give art lessons to the cast and crew?" It sounds silly, but at the same time also kind of cool? Like a way to exist within your chosen career in some kind of fantasy world. It's hard to be a teacher post- COVID, that's for sure. "High schools are hard as shit places to be these days, I'm not debating that. A lot of my colleagues have left to pursue other things."
Dieter doesn’t answer, thinking about it seriously for a moment. “Actually that’s a pretty cool idea.” He admits, not even diving into why having you follow him when he’s working sounds amazing. “Plus, they are always commissioning artists last minute for set decor.” He takes a sip of his water. “I’ve had them use a piece of mine in a shot.”
"Like most kids who want to be artists, I was told to get my degree in something practical." You shrug, no longer upset about the demand your parents had made because honestly they were very right. At the time, though, you had furiously accused them of not believing in you and stifling your creativity. "Just being a painter was never going to be a realistic option. But finding a way to combine teaching, traveling, and still be able to make my own art?" The little, disbelieving shake of your head comes with a small whistle before you take a sip from your own water glass. "If that career existed, I would jump at it in a heartbeat."
“It could.” He agrees. “You just have to make it for yourself. “Imagine the idea of checking out small cafés around the world, working out deals to hold an art class in their shop for locals.”
"That's starting my own business." With your water glass still in one hand, you point a finger at him and nod. He's not wrong - it definitely could be a job for someone. It would just take creativity and a lot of money. "Starting your own business requires either capital or an investor. I mean, it's great idea. It would just take a hell of a lot of saving."
“I guess it’s a good thing that you’ve got a soulmate with a hearty portfolio.” He jokes before he motions between the two of you. “Even if you don’t want this.” he murmurs. “I don’t hate the idea of my soulmate being happy in her life.” He shrugs causally. “It wouldn’t be a big deal. Make a business plan.”
“I—” The comment takes you so completely off guard that you don’t even know how to respond. Is he implying that he wants it? Is he asking for your actual opinion on the topic? Is he throwing out the comment to try to gauge your response? “Do you want this?” It wasn’t so long ago that you despised each other, so you really don’t have a great bearing on his emotional state when it comes to you.
“That doesn’t exactly matter.” He says after a moment, deflecting as he looks back down at his menu. “I think I’m going to have the rösti and the cheese platter.” He decides.
“It matters to me.” The stranglehold it had on your entire chest waiting for him to answer made it perfectly clear that it matters a lot, but you’re not going to push him. Not when things are starting to actually go fairly well between you. “The mussels sound good.” If he wants to deflect into food, that’s fine. The last thing you want to do is ruin the day.
“A week ago I would have said no way in hell.” His words are soft, slightly shamed as if he was wrong for believing that. “But after the party?” He swallows and shakes his head, voice barely whispering now. “It’s not just the sex. It was great, but… I can’t describe it. It just felt like I was home.”
“Dee…” Setting your menu down, one hand reaches across the table for his and squeezes his fingers gently. As reassuringly as you possibly can. “That’s what Shawn always said being with Steph was like. Coming home. Maybe…I don’t know, maybe all the stupid bullshit in the beginning was just to make sure we didn’t take it for granted. I’m not sure. But…” It takes a second, but when you finally manage to get him to look at you, you can feel yourself stepping all the way out onto that limb you never thought you would try. “But I cried myself to sleep every night after that party afraid that I had ruined everything or that you might not have really wanted me, and I never want to feel that again as long as I live. So…what if?”
Fear and hope make his heart clench. For so long he’s used drugs, sex, sarcasm and just a facade of not giving a damn to hide that he was miserable. Lonely. His fingers stroke yours, curling around them and he clears his throat. “What if?” He murmurs with a nod, agreeing with the unspoken in your speech.
“We are soulmates, after all.” Fingers intertwined like a lifeline, you have to try your very hardest not to smile like a lunatic or put one hand on your chest to keep your heart from beating out of it entirely. “It would be kind of silly not to at least try.”
“We are.” Dieter agrees. “And it would.” He licks his lips and sends you an amused look. “Would you want to date me for real while you’re here?” He asks. “See what could happen?”
“I really would.” It doesn’t matter that your entire face is on fire having this conversation in a semi-public place, or that you’re squeezing his fingers much more tightly than would be deemed romantic, or that Libby and Steph are going to do a fucking victory dance when they find out it only took a day for the two of you to cave. What matters is that this is real, after an entire adulthood of fighting and denying it. “I think it could be really good if we let it.”
“I—I think that’s why Libby sent you.” Dieter confesses softly. “She figured out— my reaction to you being gone that morning. She knows me well enough that she knew that something had changed.”
“She’s an interesting woman.” Not exactly subtle or gentle, but caring in her own way. “I think we might owe her a thank you.”
“She’s been with me from the beginning.” He explains with a small grin. “Makes her think she can do what she wants.” She can but he doesn’t explicitly tell her that.
“She takes care of you.” Everyone should have someone who cares enough to fight for them, and even if Libby methods are unconventional they clearly work. “Rico does too, although I don’t think I’m going to be able to look him in the eyes ever again.”
“Rico’s seen much worse.” It might not be the best thing to mention to his soulmate, but he wasn’t even aware of you when that happened. “I’m sure it didn’t even phase him.”
Taking a slight pause to order your dinners when the waiter comes around, the young man is gone again quickly. “I think Steph likes him,” You tell him after a moment. “She doesn’t want to say anything to me since my brother was her soulmate, but she perks up like a dog getting a treat whenever he comes up in conversation.”
He snorts at your description, sending you a wary look. “And how do you feel about it? Since her soulmate was your brother?” He knows it can be a touchy subject, so he just wants to see if he needs to be cautious.
“I’ve been asking myself that,” you admit, knowing that some people believe your soulmate is the only person you should ever be with. Obviously you and Dieter don’t feel that way, and Shawn never did either. “She’s my best friend, and I want her to be happy. I’ve spent enough of my own life being lonely and miserable, I don’t want that for her and neither would Shawn.”
You don’t mean it as a blow, but it hurts nonetheless. Striking at his heart and making him feel something he hates - guilt. Guilt for the tattoos that he had adorned your body with, easily recognizable to the point where you had isolated yourself and hadn’t been able to get into relationships without him being a haunting specter. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs softly. “I know it must have been hard for you. Having me as your soulmate.” There’s no wine this time, but he desperately wishes he had a glass, reaching for his water.
“Hey.” Going for his hand again, you shake your head at him and lean forward. “I’m the one who chose to keep a secret. I’m the one who wrongly projected all my own bullshit on you. If anything, I’m the one of the two of us who has been making this all harder than it needs to be. I made the decision to keep to myself all on my own.”
He appreciates that, squeezing your hand quickly and nodding. “Rico— he— he doesn’t have a soulmate.” He tells you. “I think his must have died young, but he’s never talked about it.”
“Well, they’ve got three weeks together while he’s helping her with Nora and doing all the things Auntie Gigi usually does. Maybe they’ll get a chance to talk.” You doubt it would be much more than that unless something extraordinary happened, but then again who knows? “If something big happens I’ll definitely get at least a text about it.”
“As long as you are good with it.” Dieter comments. “He’s a really good man.” Chuckling, he shrugs. “He takes care of me, so you know he’s patient.”
“Steph deals with a chronically ill little girl and me,” you laugh. “She has the patience of a saint.”
“You are a handful.” Dieter smirks, sending you a small wink. “Two, in fact.”
The way you roll your eyes is entirely playful, and you’re still chuckling when the waiter brings your glasses of wine to the table. “She’s going to gloat like hell when we get home you know? Steph will. Since she’s the one who answered the Mate Marks campaign for me and started this whole thing.”
“Why did she do that?” That has been a question he’s had from the beginning. Especially since you had seemingly hated him.
“She didn’t want me to miss out on knowing my soulmate.” And as your best friend and sister, she had earned the right to meddle. No matter how mad you had been about it at the time. “And she knew I was too stubborn to do it myself.”
“You? Stubborn?” He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “No.” He can’t even deny that he’s stubborn. “I remember we were at the Adele concert and things were going good and then you were just…upset again. Couldn’t figure out what had pissed you off again and just figured it was my mere presence.”
“I know I made things harder than they needed to be.” And honestly, you’ll regret that for a long time to come, but you can’t help the way you had reacted to fear with anger. “I didn’t know then…about your thing about sweaty hands.” Several times today he’s temporarily stopped holding yours to discreetly wipe his palm on his pants and it no longer bothers you. It’s just something he doesn’t like the feel of like you don’t like the feeling of having long leg hairs under tights. It’s just a sensory thing. “So when you…” Your eyes drop to the table in embarrassment, never able to hold someone’s gaze when you feel guilty or ashamed. “You let go of my hand and wiped your palm…it felt like touching me at all was so disgusting that you had to get rid of the sensation. And that is so ridiculous when I say it out loud. It was just me overreacting.”
“It wasn’t you.” Dieter promises. “My hands sweat, and I had a partner who hated it when I was younger.” He gives a small shrug. “It just became a habit for me.”
“I know that now.” And it makes you feel all the more ridiculous for the way you reacted then. “I didn’t then, and I took it too personally. I’m sorry.”
“I can see how it would look shitty.” He won’t deny that. Looking back always makes things look clearer. “It’s okay. I’ve just got quirks.” He jokes, grinning at you.
“Everybody does.” With your free hand, you take a sip of your wine and shrug slightly. “I don’t care about sweaty hands, but I hate wearing sunglasses at the same time as hats or headbands or big stuff in my hair because it feels weird on my ears.”
“Is that why you hated me wearing sunglasses?” He tilts his head curiously.
“No...” A small groan escapes you, more embarrassment flooding your system and making your face burn. “My parents were super strict about weirdly specific manners things when I was growing up and sunglasses indoors was a huge no-go with them. So, I just…projected. God, I’m so sorry how are you even out with me right now?”
Dieter chuckles and shakes his head, waving off your embarrassment. “Don’t worry about it.” He promises. “The sunglasses are sometimes a shield, a defense mechanism when I’m feeling vulnerable.” He offers you. “Danica used to tell me that eyes are the windows to the soul.”
"I'll remember that." You can promise him that without hesitation. Trying to be better - and be better for him - means making sure you're not accidentally making him feel uncomfortable about using the coping mechanisms he's developed over the years. "She loved you a lot. And I'm absolutely certain that she's sitting with Shawn watching us and having a good laugh about our stubborn asses right now."
“She always told me that my soulmate was going to give me a run for my money.” He laughs, his fingers tracing his inked in triangle.
“Shawn always thought you’d be so good for me.” And it had caused so many fights in later years that you wish you could reach back in time and wipe it all away. If you could erase every time you had ever yelled at your brother so that no time was ever wasted in negativity, you would do it in a heartbeat. “He said life outside the box was exactly what I needed.”
“I think that this might be the first impulsive thing you’ve done in a long time.” He agrees. “The contract, I mean.”
“It is. It’s probably the first impulsive thing I’ve done in my entire adult life.” When the waiter arrives with your food you can practically hear your own stomach rumbling, everything looks and smells completely divine. “And…really…I’m glad I did.”
“I’m glad.” He closes his eyes and groans quietly when he smells the food. Nodding to the waiter when they are stepping back and asking if you need anything else. “We are good, right?” He asks, looking over at you for confirmation.
“We’re good.” You confirm, not only meaning the meal. For once, you really do feel like things are going well.
Dieter can’t help the small smile, picking up a slice of the cheeses that are special to Switzerland before he pops it into his mouth and groans. “Fuck.” He hisses, picking up another piece and holding it out to you. “You have to try this.”
“Willingly sharing cheese? You are my soulmate.” You laugh easily, but as soon as you pop the piece of creamy, slightly funky cheese into your mouth you’re moaning right along with him. “Oh holy shit that’s good…I love Switzerland so much.”
“See what I mean?” Dieter chuckles and selects another cheese to try, wanting to share the platter with you so you can experience it.
“We’re going to have to do fondue one of these nights.” Nudging the overlarge bowl of mussels with fragrant broth and toasted bread into the middle of the table, you give him a hopeful look that says as much about how comfortable you are with him now as words ever could. “Share? They’re amazing, too.”
Dieter pushes his rösti to the middle as well. “This way you get to try twice as much.” He winks and picks up his spoon to offer you a bite.
“Twenty minutes in and we’re already that couple,” you joke, taking the bite of creamy, crispy grated potato magic he offered you with a happy hum and closing your eyes to savor the salty goodness.
“I can think of worse things than sharing food.” Dieter snorts. “Especially since there’s a pap at the table across from us. He’s discreet. Gotta give him that.”
“Seriously?” You hadn’t even noticed - apparently you’re going to have to learn to be more observant. “Well shit, Libby’s going to love this.” Not that you can bring yourself to care anymore. She played a good game and deserves the credit for it.
“I’m sure she will be calling soon, congratulating you on your forethought in making sure it looks good.” He laughs quietly. “We don’t have to tell her we are actually giving it a chance if you don’t want to.”
“She’s your manager and your public image, I would say it’s up to you.” The wine you chose is the same one that went into the broth for your mussels, and it is light and crisp and perfect in the warm evening. “I don’t mind telling the truth,” you tell him softly. “I’m not planning on hiding that I’m happy we’re giving this a go.”
He nods and takes another sip of his wine. “That is good, considering the photos will probably be up tomorrow.”
“And I’ll probably save them to my phone.” It might take a little while to go back through the paparazzi photos of the first few dates to find ones where you don’t look annoyed with each other, but now? Now they’re just a reminder of how far you’ve come. “Along with a bunch of other ones just for us.”
“Disney wasn’t horrible.” He reminds you. “I actually enjoyed myself with you. Although I hated having to spend the night with Nora in the hospital. Poor thing.”
“Actually…” Pulling your phone out of your purse, you scroll back about a week in your photo album and pull up the picture Steph took of him and Nora sleeping in her hospital bed to show him. “Disney was a pretty good day, despite Nora being sick. She’s a little warrior though, and she was glad you stayed…we-we were all glad you stayed.”
Dieter visibly melts at the sight of the photo. The little girl curled up in his lap as much as she could be with her thumb in her mouth, fast asleep. “Can you— can you sent me that?” He asks, clearing his throat after the first attempt to talk.
“Of course.” A few button presses is all it takes, since Dieter has been programmed into your phone for weeks. “Ya know…that night…when I mentioned responsibility to you, I wasn’t trying to tell you no or scare you off. I wanted you to want the responsibility of being Nora’s uncle.”
He flushes slightly, biting his lip. “Honestly that’s how I took it.” He admits. “I know your opinion of me sucked ass, so I figured you were warning me off your niece.”
“I wasn’t exactly clear,” you can see how he took it badly. That chalks up to poor communication again. “Honestly I was still reeling from kissing you so it’s not like I was at the top of my game that night.”
“It freaked you out too?” Dieter leans back and laughs. “I thought I was tripping again. That someone had slipped something in my drink and that was why it felt like the entire world shifted.”
“Oh my god.” Your deep laugh matches his, but you pitch forward in your chair to stifle a snort instead of leaning back. “It was literally just that good of a kiss that it freaked us both out. Fucking soulmate connection.”
“Fucking soulmate connection.” He agrees, chuckles dying out and he shakes his head. “And then the sex— it, fuck it was incredible.”
“I think I remember pretty much everything now.” Nodding in total agreement, you shoot him a smirk. “We need to pick up condoms.”
His brows shoot up. “You want to— are you sure?” He asks softly, not willing to push.
“I mean, no disrespect, but no one’s pull out game is full proof and as much as I do want kids I don’t think our half-hour old relationship could handle that just yet.” Although honestly? He’s so good with Nora that you could see him being a pretty good dad eventually. “I’m also not saying we should have sex again like right away. But sometime before I go back? Yeah. I’m sure.”
“Yeah.” He agrees with that. “I honestly am surprised that I remembered to pull out.” He doesn’t mention the phrase ‘yet’ he had heard. Knowing that the two of you are nowhere near that kind of talk.
“Well thank god you did.” Otherwise you don’t know what you would have done. Waking up the next morning and not knowing he had cum inside you would be a sex ed nightmare come to life. Not because of him - but anyone.
“Have you, uh, considered birth control?” He asks, fully aware that there may be some medical reason why you can’t. He’s not trying to push protection on you, he’s just genuinely curious.
“I was on it when I was younger.” It’s such casual conversation, the way the two of you go about it while your sharing your dinners, occasionally offering each other bites or stopping for sips of wine. “There just wasn’t much need when I was having sex once or twice a year tops.” You glance up at him, reading the expression on his face with a smile. “As long as we don’t kill each other before I go home, I think it’s probably time for me to go back on.”
“That’s up to you.” He promises. “I don’t mind wearing a rubber.”
“We’ll see how we feel about it, then?” After all, you have a few weeks to see where you’re at, and you’ve been seeing the same gyno for eight years. They’re not going anywhere. “No need to worry about it now.”
“Of course.” Dieter nods. “Better to just take it easy.” He agrees and pushes you the last piece of cheese. One that you had seemed to really enjoy.
“One step at a time.” In exchange for the cheese, you scoop the last mussel onto the last bit of bread for him and hold out. This time you’re very aware of the photographer across the way but just don’t care. So what if there are photos of this meal? You’re happy, and that’s what matters.
He manages to lick your fingers as he takes the last bite and chews with a grin. Sitting back, he rubs his belly. “Shit that was good.” He moans. “What did you think?”
“Fuckin amazing,” you grin, tempted to make a remark about how he better save room for you after all the chocolate you talked about buying if he licks your finger like that again. “And we made it through two whole meals without being upset with each other. I’m very proud of us.”
“Me too.” He smirks and nods in thanks when the waiter drops off the bill. “How was your first day in Geneva?”
“Honestly? Pretty great.” You fiddle with your phone, sending off a few pictures from dinner to Steph at home so she can see what you’ve been up to. “How do you feel about it?”
“Surprised.” He answers honestly. “In a good way. I expected to spend the day alone, probably sleeping most of it, this was much better.”
“You have tomorrow off too, right?” Since the two of you had slept the morning away, you had missed seeing your first Genevan morning.
“I do.” Dieter nods, wondering if you have something you want to do. “I have a 10am meeting for all the cast to do a table read the day after.”
“So what if we just take tomorrow easy?” Getting up from the table together, you grin a little when Dieter waves at the pap across the way to let him know he’d been seen, and you slip your hand into his on your way out of the restaurant. “Wander around the city, grab some paints and canvas, just walk around and see what strikes us? A low-key day before you have to start working?”
“That sounds like a plan.” It’s easy to agree, to find it simplistic and charming. “Maybe I’ll let you paint me while we’re at it.”
“I’ll do the sketch first.” If he’s going to let you do this, you want to do it right. Something symbolic of your new beginning together. Something happy. “But yeah, we can do that tomorrow if you want.”
“That’s completely up to you…l—I have to shave for this role.” He side eyes you as the two of you walk. “Everything but the mustache and they are cutting my hair.”
“You don’t sound thrilled about that.” Out in the night air again, you turn together to step down the street in the general direction of your hotel. “Not a fan of the mustache?”
“No, I actually like the mustache, I don’t like the haircut.” He tells you. “It’s going to be quite a bit shorter.”
“Less to dig my fingers into.” The half-smirk you shoot him is full of amusement. “Shame. Guess I’ll just have to be louder to compensate.”
“You’re a tease.” He’s almost delighted to discover that. “That’s just perfect.”
“It’s only teasing if you don’t intend to follow through,” you tell him with a solemn nod of your head. “Like if I told you I was gonna let you fuck me in the middle of the hotel lobby, that would be teasing.”
“Fuck.” Dieter groans. “So mean.” He huffs playfully. “You know I jerked off thinking about that night, right? Even as pissed and hurt as I was.”
“Really?” You had had very much the opposite reaction, being so upset about way things had gone so horribly sour that even your toys held no appeal. “I haven’t…I mean…until we talked on Tuesday it just bummed me out too much to even think about.”
“I—I’m not just addicted to drugs.” Dieter admits quietly. “I wouldn’t say that I am addicted to sex, but it’s something that is just— the rush of endorphins.”
“I honestly don’t know where my libido is at. It’s been a long time since I actually had a partner.” Squeezing his hand gently brings his eyes to yours and you hold them steady despite still walking down the street. “If it’s ever overwhelming for me, I’m going to tell you. But please don’t be afraid to talk to me about…anything. Okay? When I said I wanted to give this a try I meant the whole thing. Good and bad. I have my own shit too. Everybody does.”
“You don’t have a problem with me, uh, you know.” He gives a small shrug. “Being bisexual, right? You said your brother was, but it’s a lot different when it’s your partner.”
“Fuck no.” And you hate that he ever worried about it for even a second. “Just means if you see a hot guy we can look together.” Your expression softens, a bit more vulnerability shining through. “Just…. I’ve been cheated on before, and I can’t go through that again. And I’m not saying I think you’re more likely to because you’re bi or any of that bullshit. I’m just saying cheating is my line in the sand. No second chances.”
“I have a reputation.” Dieter admits. “Partying and people make assumptions of our relationship status. They thought we were exclusive and I was not of that opinion.” He huffs, squeezing your hand. “But I’m a consent is sexy type of person and that goes for who I can and cannot sleep with. When I’m in a relationship.”
“Do you see this as a relationship or as casual dating?” It’s a fair question, if slightly loaded. Knowing where he stands on this try you’re taking matters to you. “Just so I know, that’s all.”
“I think that it would be better classified as a relationship, don’t you?” He asks softly. “You’re my soulmate, that weighs a hit heavier.”
“I think so.” At least, that’s what you had assumed he meant earlier and you’re glad to have it confirmed now. “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page. With us sucking at communication, it doesn’t hurt to double check.”
“Absolutely.” Dieter agrees. “The reason I asked about being okay with my sexuality is because I do like...toys.” He ventures. “If it’s something you’re not into, I completely understand. I just had one – uh, Anika, it was a deal breaker.”
“Oh.” It’s not really something you had ever given much thought to, and your head tilts slightly to one side as you walk together. “I can’t say that I have any experience with toys for men. So I guess we’ll have to see?”
“You don’t have to.” He promises. “She just didn’t understand why sleeping with her in the traditional sense wasn’t enough.” He shrugs. “That’s what she thought using toys meant.”
“Everybody’s entitled to a little extra fun.” You nudge your thumb into his side a little and raise an eyebrow. “Which you’ll know, since I recall you remarking about my own toy collection at the hospital.”
“Oh yeah.” He grins at you and sends you a small wink. “I was curious to see what you had.” He defends himself, chuckling quietly. “I was impressed.”
“I brought a couple with me,” you admit, feeling that burn come back to your cheeks. “I had no idea we’d be sharing a bed, so I brought my own company…so to speak.”
“That makes two of us.” Dieter jokes, squeezing your hand. “If you want your own room. If I snore too loud or whatever, let me know.” He doesn’t want that, but he can’t control it if it’s how you feel.
“If you snore too loud I’ll just nudge you over. No big deal. But…” You shrug, knowing you’re going to sound awfully sentimental. “I loved waking up next to you this morning.”
“I was very happy about it too.” He confesses. “I’m glad I woke up this time.” He jokes, referencing how you said he slept through you trying to wake him.
“Pretty sure you woke up first this time.” Coming up beside the door of a chocolatery to your right, you nod your head toward the window. “Dessert?”
“We can’t miss out on chocolate while we are here.” He steers you towards the door with an eager smile.
It’s like paradise inside - wall to wall sweets and treats and staff that is polite instead of pushy. Every available surface is adorned with beautiful displays of the most mouthwatering delicacies imaginable. “I wanna live here…” you murmur, eyes wide in awe and absolute delight.
“Big sweet tooth, huh?” His own eyes are round as he takes in all the confections, drooling slightly when he seen the hand dipped chocolate strawberries. “Oh we have to get some of these.” He blurts out immediately. “The fridge in the room is going to be stuffed.”
“Worth it.” Practically groaning at the display of other chocolate dipped fruit, the case beyond has hand-dipped clusters of dried cherries and hazelnuts that are absolutely calling Dieter’s name like a choir.
“I think we need to order at least two of everything.” Dieter decides, looking over at you. “What do you think?”
“It’s an awful big shop for two of everything.” But he is completely beaming, practically glowing really, and you have a feeling he has an even bigger sweet tooth than you do.
“You’re right.” He hums, sending you a maniacal grin. “We can leave off all the dark chocolate, caramel and sea salt sweets.”
The pout you send him is fierce and immediate - he has just described your favourite chocolate in the whole world, and he knows it. “I was going to wake you up so nicely tomorrow, but now you’re being mean.”
He snickers and wraps his arms around you from behind, happy that you are allowing him to just touch you. It’s honestly a craving of his, connection. His lips brush over your cheek and move to the shell of your ear. “Okay.” He huffs playfully. “We’ll add them back.”
“Merci beaucoup.” Twisting slightly lets you brush a soft kiss on his cheek and your nose wrinkles on a grin.
******
In the end, you don’t get two of everything in the shop, but both of you are carrying out bags that are stuffed full. He’d insisted on at least four of the dried cherries and hazelnut clusters and both of you had agreed on a full dozen of the chocolate dipped strawberries. Though he had every intention of giving you both of the berries that were coated in caramel, dark chocolate and sea salt. For the price of a kiss.
“Finally someone who rivals my love of chocolate.” Back in the elevator to your shared suite, you sigh happily and lean back against his shoulder. “Thank you for today, Dee.”
“It was your choice where to go.” He reminds you, smiling at how good the day turned out. “But I have to say it was amazing, and pretty fun too.” He huffs. “Interesting saying that when I’m not higher than a kite.” He snaps his fingers. “Shit, I have to take my drug test for Libby.”
“You do that and I’ll take a couple of minutes to call Steph and fill her in.” Your best friend is pretty much going to lose her mind when you tell her everything that happened, but for once you can’t wait to hear her gloat.
Setting down the sweets, Dieter walks into the bathroom where he already had the at home drug kits. When he started the movie, he would be tested every day by the production crew, something Libby had added into the contract to keep him honest. He hated it, but knew it was needed. He does the test, marking the date on the package and sends Libby the picture as he waits for the results.
It’s early afternoon in California, and you know Steph is home from work today so a call won’t get her into trouble, as you stack the little boxes of chocolate dipped fruit in the suite’s fridge and wait anxiously for your best friend to pick up the phone.
“H-hello?” Stephanie laughs and there is a loud shriek in the background with a splash. “Nora! Use your feet, baby. Kick!” She calls out, pulling her mouth away from the phone before she turns back to the call. “Hello?”
“Hey!” The sounds are an immediate giveaway, they must be at Dieter’s house so Nora can swim. “Do you have a second to talk? How’s our little warrior doing?”
“Hey! Of course!” Steph immediately answers, the sounds of the lounger creaking and she’s adjusting and sitting up are covered by the low background kid-friendly music playing. “So you aren’t calling because I need to bail you out, right?”
“No, you don’t need to bail me out of Swiss prison,” you laugh, shaking your head as you play Tetris with yet more of the little boxes. You and Dieter truly went to town in that chocolatery. “Actually, I’m calling for kind of the opposite reason.”
“Uh…are you already on your way home?” She’s disappointed if that is the case, hoping that this trip would be good for you a Dieter.
“No…although, I guess that would count as the opposite of being stuck in jail indefinitely.” Chuckling down the line, you plop down on the settee in the suite’s front room once the fridge is stuffed full. “Actually? Uh…don’t fall over or anything, and I haven’t been replaced by an alien or whatever, but…” You take a deep breath, wondering how she’ll react. “Dieter and I are actually going to try dating for real. Like non-Libby-approved dates and everything.”
“Haha funny.” Steph rolls her eyes, and huffs. “I know you think the universe messed up, but I promise you that it didn’t. If you have him a chance it could be so good, hun.”
“Stephy…” You really, truly understand why she doesn’t believe you, and smile to yourself. “I’m telling you the truth. We’ve had a couple of really good talks since I got here last night and we’re going to give it a try.”
“Really?” Her squeal comes down over the line. “Tell me what the hell happened!”
“Alright, first of all, Libby is fuckin conniving, because she left me a key to his suite but didn’t say a fucking word. So points to her for engineering a romance trope. But really…I know it’s unbelievable coming from me, but waking up with him this morning was exactly like what I wish had happened last weekend. We didn’t even do anything except cuddle and talk.” And yet the dreamy quality to your voice is so monumentally obvious. “We walked to the nearest museum in the middle of the afternoon and he just…he kissed me while we were walking…and I don’t know. I just felt like—” Your chest clenches at the realization, and you barely keep from sighing. “It felt like home.”
“Wait a minute - he kissed you?” Steph’s mouth drops open in shock. Even though you both had cleared the air, she had not expected that. “Why? What made him do it?”
“I asked him the same thing,” you laugh. “Apparently that nose wrinkle and snort thing I do sometimes is cute to him.”
“So you do cute things that makes him want to kiss you.” She sighs, thinking it sounded just like a romance novel. “And apparently the rest of the day was just as magical?”
“We spent the rest of the day at the museum.” For you, that’s the absolute perfect place to be anytime and she knows it. “We were looking at this sketching that Rembrandt did of his wife and talking about how you can see how much he loved her in the line work and…I may have asked him if I could paint him one day…and he’s going to let me do one while we’re here.” Everything comes blurting out of your mouth as quickly as it can. “Then we were talking at dinner, and he asked if I wanted to date him for real…like give an actual relationship a try and…I dunno, Steph. It feels so good with him right now. I know I sound insane after like a decade of swearing I would never even speak to him, but…I think…I think I’m feeling things. Like real things.”
“He’s slipped past your walls.” Steph murmurs, biting her lip in excitement. “I knew that it was possible. Oh honey, I’m so happy for you.”
“It’s not like we’re ring shopping or anything.” Caution is key, in your opinion, even though you’re optimistically excited. “But he’s taking me to get my first tattoo of my own for my birthday.”
“For real?!” She squeals again in surprise, amazed that it is something you are planning on doing. She had honestly thought you never would, always complaining about Dieter’s tattoos. “He’s okay with that?”
“It was his idea.” It’s not something that was really in your bucket list before so you’re not surprised she’s surprised. “I’m doing to do the design myself. All those little watercolor flowers I’ve been doing? One for each of us. You, me, Nora, Shawn, and Dee.”
“Honey…” Steph murmurs softly. “You’re adding him into your tattoo?” She asks, knowing that you’ve fallen harder than you’ve admitted, maybe even to yourself. “You’ve fallen in love with him.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.” A nervous chuckle is the best you can muster, not willing to grapple with that particular idea right now. “He’s my soulmate, and he’s going to have to wear it forever. He deserves to be a part of it.”
She doesn’t point out that you hadn’t had any option in the tattoos you sport. Doesn’t want to rock the boat, since you’ve come to understand why they are there and what they mean to him. “Okay, we won’t go that far.” She agrees easily. “So it sounds like Geneva is both good for the world and good for soulmates.” She jokes.
“Someday I’ll get out here with you.” Steph would love it. The bustling streets and warm attitudes being so different from Los Angeles. “You and Nora. How is she?”
Stephanie chuckles. “Tell Uncle Deedee he might have been replaced as Nora’s current favorite person.” She jokes. “She’s currently splashing in the pool with Rico. Water cowboys.”
“How’s that going?” You weren’t going to mention Rico overly, but since she had done it herself you feel free to ask. “Having Rico around?”
“This man was made for having kids.” She tells you. “He’s excellent with her. He’s already got her restrictive diet down and already promises that she will love the smoothie he makes that is packed with veggies she hates.”
“Okay, but how do you feel about him?” There’s a soft hum in your voice, and you smile even though she can’t see it. “Stephy, I can tell you like having him around. It’s okay.”
“I- I don’t understand it.” She admits quietly. “I’ve spent only a little bit of time with him.” It’s confusing and nerve wracking because of Shawn. Because of you and Nora.
“Sometimes a couple of minutes is all you need to get a good feeling about someone.” After all, wasn’t that how you and she had made friends as kids? A few minutes was all it had taken. And a few minutes was all she had known Shawn for when she decided that he was the one - even before she had known they were soulmates. “Dee said that Rico doesn’t have a soulmate anymore…I mean, not that I’m trying to push you or anything, but just— just so you know.” When Dieter appears in the doorway again you can’t help but grin, biting your lip a little just at the sight of him which is a new experience altogether. “Sweetie, it’s okay to open up again. Even if it’s just to make a new friend. You deserve to be happy.”
“Are you sure?” Her voice is small, your opinion and approval meant everything. Not only as her best friend, but as her soulmate’s sister. She never wanted you to think that she was refuting what she and Shawn had.
“You deserve to be happy,” you repeat, a little softer this time and surer, despite the water behind your eyes from talking about your brother. “Shawn wouldn’t have wanted you and Nora to mourn him for the rest of your lives, and you are the best judge of character I know. If spending time with Rico makes you happy, then go for it. It doesn’t mean you loved Shawn any less.”
Steph blows out a ragged breath. “We’ll see.” It’s all she can commit to right now. “Thank you.”
“That’s all, honey. Just let it be out there as an option.” Flipping backward, you stretch out on the settee and wish you could give her a giant hug, but know that you’ll have a million of them for her when you come home. “I just wanted to call and check in. I love you, and please tell Nora I love her, too.”
“I will.” Steph hums. “You be safe and have fun, okay? Make sure you talk to him, okay? Don’t jump to conclusions.”
“I promise.” With another round of goodbyes, you hang up the phone and shove it into the pocket of the Libby-approved pants you wore out today. “They’re at your place,” you tell Dieter, smiling up at him as he comes closer. “Nora and Rico are playing in the pool.”
“Good.” Dieter grins. “Hopefully that will make missing Aunt Gigi better for the next three weeks.”
“Hopefully.” Sitting up, you reach out to beckon him a little closer. “All set with your test?”
“Yep. Passed and sent the results to Lib.” He rolls his head around his shoulders and shrugs. “She built in drug testing to this movie so I don’t have a repeat of Cliff Beasts 6 downtime.”
“What do you want to do tonight?” You have no problem leaving it up to him since you picked to go to the museum.
“Honestly?” Dieter chuckles and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I just kind of want to lay around.” He admits. “I’m jet lagged, and that soaker tub is calling out to my back.”
Sitting up fully, you can’t help the way your head tilts at him ever so slightly, wishing he would come closer but not wanting to push. “Do you…um—do you want company?”
It’s a loaded question if there ever was one. On the one hand, he would fucking love it, on the other, he’s trying not to push the idea of jumping you too quickly. “We could order a bottle of wine.” He proposes. “It is big enough for two.”
“A bottle of wine, some chocolates, and a soak?” Honestly it sounds like heaven, but he seems hesitant. “I’ll wear my bathing suit if you’re not comfortable having me naked with you yet. Again.” You drop your face into one hand and huff at yourself. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for is what I’m trying to say.”
Dieter stares at you for a second before he starts to laugh. “Here I am worried about popping wood and offending you and you think I’m not ready.” He chokes out shaking his head.
“No one can say we’re not being considerate of each other’s feelings.” A small chuckle escapes you and you hoist yourself up onto your feet from where you had been sitting. “We’re dating for real, Dee. Popping wood is a compliment.”
He gives a haphazard shrug. “I never said I was good at dating.” He huffs, even though there is a small, flush to his cheeks and his lips are turned up just a fraction. “Why don’t you go order the wine and whatever else we might need for the bath. The hotel is all inclusive. They can bring up anything you want.”
“Sure.” Your limited knowledge of wines will have to make do for now, but you vaguely remember reading once that pinot noir is good with chocolate and fruit, so that seems like the way to go. Dieter paces back into the interior of the suite to start the bath while you call the concierge’s desk, and you squeeze your eyes shut self-consciously while also very awkwardly asking if the front desk would be able to send up a pack of condoms along with the wine. To the concierge’s credit he simply answers in the affirmative and asks if there will be anything, and politely ends the call when you say no. Better safe and embarrassed than staying silent and ending up in trouble, you tell yourself as you hang up the hotel phone.
The bathroom is stocked with all the bath soaps and powders that he could possibly want, so Dieter goes in and starts the bath. The tub is huge, made for two and he wonders if this will be more than just a soak, but he doesn’t want to try his luck.
It’s only a few minutes later that a knock on the suite door sounds, and a tray bearing the wine bottle, two glasses, and a pack of condoms is delivered. The pack gets shoved into your other pocket and you pull a few chocolates from the fridge to add to the tray before bringing it into the bathroom.
Dieter glances up when you walk in. “That was quick.” He murmurs. “Although the last time I ordered something from the kitchen, my soulmate was delivered.” He flashes you a grin and gestures to the bath. “Make sure the water’s not too hot.”
“I take showers the temperature of lava,” you tell him, lips upturned in a smile as you set the tray on the broad side of the tub and trail your fingers through the warm water. It might be hot too some, but for you this is nice and comfortable. “Perfect. And I brought some of the chocolates in if we want to indulge.”
“You’re my soulmate.” He groans playfully, rolling his eyes over to the chocolates. “Booze and chocolate in a bath with a naked woman.” He sighs. “I’ve died and this is heaven.”
“Not naked yet.” The wink you toss him is reminiscent of his own signature tease, and you carefully set the expensive-looking jewelry that had been part of Libby’s pre-packed vacation suitcase on the bathroom counter. “You wanna pour two glasses while I work on that last bit of heaven for you?” It’s not like you’re wearing anything intricate, but it’s still all brand-new stuff from his manager so you don’t just want to toss it on the floor.
Dieter smirks and moves over to the tray to grab the bottle of wine. “I get my own strip show?” He’s jokes as he grabs the corkscrew to open it. “What did I do to deserve this?”
“There’s nothing particularly sexy about anything I’m wearing today.” But that reminds you - buying a little something lacy or silky before your birthday might be a fun surprise. Slipping the little packet out of the pocket of your pants and into the folds of the crisply folded bathrobe on the counter, you have to remind yourself that you’ve already been naked with him, so there’s no reason to be self conscious about taking your bra and panties off in front of him. They are added to the stack of folded clothes on the counter and you pick up the bathrobe with its hidden secret, not wanting to make him feel like you expect sex just because you’re sharing an intimate moment.
“I was teasing.” He actually hasn’t been watching you, not wanting you to feel as if he is leering. He still remembers how you looked that one night you had. Setting the wine glasses on the edge of the tub, he turns back around. “Get in and I’ll get undressed now.” He murmurs, trying to keep his eyes from drifting over your skin.
“I can’t believe we’re both being so polite about this.” The water is beautifully hot and the thick layer of bubbles is scented with something soothing that you don’t recognize. “Last time you nearly had my dress pulled up to my waist in the back of the car.”
“Last time we were drunk and you were eager.” He reminds you with a grin after he pulls his shirt over his head. “Now you’re sober and we are less…uninhibited.”
“Being sober doesn’t make me less eager.” Reaching over the side of the tub, you snag this little packet of condoms out of its hiding place in the bathrobe and hold them up. “I was trying to be discreet so you wouldn’t feel like I expected anything, but just…just know that everything that happened that night was honest. And that—” Steph’s words ring in your ears but they absolutely will not be uttered out loud. “That it wasn’t the alcohol that made me want to be with you. It just helped me say it loud and clear.”
It’s probably a little sad how quickly his entire being seems to light up at your confession, making him nearly giddy. He quickly agrees, his head bobbing up and down sharply. “I don’t expect anything either,” he promises, “but I wasn’t with you just because it was convenient.” He won’t say when his feelings shifts or exactly what they are now, it’s way too early for something like that.
“Then maybe let’s both relax a little and just enjoy?” The day at the museum - even this morning in bed - had been so natural. You dearly want that ease back if you can get it. “Give ourselves permission to want this?”
"That sounds good." He flashes you a half grin. "Of course we are extra about this too." He strips out of the pants he had worn to the museum and his boxers in one go, pushing them down his legs and kicking them off before he walks over to the tub. He's not shy with his body. He's not everyone's cup of tea, he knows that, but he also knows that you like him.
“So.” Once he’s settled beside you and you’ve both picked up your wine glasses, you lean back against the edge of the tub with a contented sigh. “What’s your movie about?”
Dieter takes a sip of his wine and tilts his head, huffing slightly. “It’s about a painter who has decided to abandon his soulmate to find himself.” The irony of the script isn’t lost on him, considering that he’s in a bathtub with his own soulmate. “Except he finds that he’s not himself without them.”
“Did they get you someone good for a costar?” You don’t really know how any of the casting process works, but surely whoever was hired is top tier. And hopefully not someone who will be petty about his actual soulmate being around. From the sound of the one-sentence plot, it must have at least a little romance.
“Yeah.” He gives a small shrug and names the actress who has been in the last three big hits over the past few years. “She draws in people, let’s hope she can actually act.”
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.” Having been in the world of kids’ movies for the last few years, you barely recognize the name. She’s famous, sure, and you’ve seen her face in magazines in the supermarket, but it’s not like you’ve seen any of her films. “But it sounds like you’ll get to paint on set, so that will be nice.”
“Barely.” He frowns at that. “Although I don’t care. They want my character to do self-portraits. Which I hate.”
“Just think of Rembrandt and Saskia,” you encourage, taking a sip of your wine. “Maybe there’s something there that you can focus on instead of just thinking about how much you don’t like looking at your own face.” It sounds sentimental and you know it, but somehow you really don’t mind. Being sentimental with your soulmate feels soothing in an unexpected way. “Small details instead of the overall picture. Like the exact shape of your mouth or shade of your eyes?”
He hums in contemplation and takes another sip of his wine. “I guess.” He concedes finally, leaning back against the edge of the tub. “At least I don’t have to worry about doing the actual painting.” He jokes.
“Who’s doing it?” Of course the art is the thing that draws you in, that shouldn’t be a surprise.
“Actually, I don’t know.” Dieter cracks an eye open and rolls his head to the side. “Probably one of the set decorators. Why? You want to do it?”
“I mean…I was just curious, but…” It’s not incredulous, or judgmental, or anything like that. It seems like an actual offer - and the idea of seeing your own art in a movie is both absolutely crazy and also a total dream. “I mean I could. You were going to let me paint you anyway…but they probably already have someone to do that, right? I—I’m sure they already have someone way better than me.” After all, movie sets have professionals. They’re probably far better than what you could do. “*Those who can’t do, teach*, or so says everyone in the entire world.”
“I don’t believe that shit.” Dieter scoffs and shakes his head. “All my art teachers were amazing. They loved exposing others to the wonder of art. That’s why they taught. To bring joy to the world.”
“I just meant I’m sure your film crew has someone more than capable of painting you.” The embarrassment welling in your chest is a little too real, though, and you put your wine down so he can’t see your hands shake with it. “They’re professionals. I’m an amateur. And that’s okay.”
“You aren’t an amateur.” Dieter insists, shaking his head again. “You have to be better than ‘professionals’. You have to be proficient in multiple mediums rather than just your favorites. That takes skill.”
“I’ve never sold a piece of my work. By definition that makes me an amateur.” It’s a fact. You’re comfortable with facts. They’re solid and honest and very real. “And like I said, that’s okay. Most artists are amateurs who have never sold their work.”
“Well, I can find out who is doing the pictures.” He turns and looks at you. “A lot of times it’s just the set decorators. They don’t sell their art either.”
“If you want me to be the one who does it, that’s different,” you tell him quietly, sensing his stubbornness might extend past your own right now. “I’m sure it would be good publicity.”
“That’s only if you want to. For yourself. Not the publicity.” Dieter reaches out and touches your arm. “Would you want your portraits, or pieces of them in a movie?”
“Everybody wants to be in the movies somehow.” At least, everyone you’ve ever met - but you do live in Southern California, so the sampling data is slightly skewed. “I mean— it would be something we did together. The first thing we ever did together. And that would be really special…but I don’t know if they would be good enough.”
“So why don’t you paint something tomorrow?” He offers. “If you want to do it, give them a reference and I’ll make sure you get chosen.” He’s not above making sure that he gets his way.
“I brought my sketchbook…it has some portraits of Nora and Steph in it, and my brother…” If he’s going to ask to have your art put in a major Hollywood movie, then you’re damn well going to provide as many samples as you can. “Is it a period piece or anything? Because that affects the art style.” He knows that, obviously, but as you start to absorb the idea that this could actually be a reality, it is both exciting and terrifying in a very important way.
“Modernish, around the early 2000s.” He answers. “Want to say it’s set in like 2002?”
“Ah.” Nodding your head with a slight shake, you just chuckle. “Vintage, as my students would call it.”
Dieter snorts and throws his head back. “Fuck I’m old.” He complains, unable to believe 2002 is ‘vintage’.”
“Technically twenty years old is vintage.” You lean into him slightly, laughing a little with his dismay because you reacted the same way the first time. “The first day I came into school to see my kids wearing knock off 90s fashion, I felt like I needed a walker.”
“We’ve already come back around to 90s fashion?” The panic in his voice is real. “No, no, I’m not that old.”
“Yep.” The way you nod is almost resigned, but the laughter is still there. “Believe me, I dread the return of low rise jeans.”
“This is bullshit.” Dieter huffs, taking another sip of his wine and rolling his eyes.
“Can I tell you how magical it is to be able to swear whenever I fucking want?” You’re steady enough to pick your wine glass back up and take a sip. “Nora’s so deep in her mimic phase that it’s crazy.”
“She’s such a good kid.” He tells you. “Bright and funny.” He pauses. “When I— you know, swiped those bills from your house the first time, I couldn’t imagine seeing all those tests she had to have. She doesn’t let it get to her, does she?”
“She has her bad days like anyone else. Sometimes a doctor will suggest a new panel of tests and it’s just too much for her to take that day. But because she was diagnosed so young, it’s really just part of her life. She hates her food restrictions more than anything else. I mean imagine being four years old and not being allowed to eat regular ice cream.” You shrug at him, knowing how misty eyed you are. “She’s my little warrior. I call her that for a reason.”
“Can she have the soy ice cream?” He asks, knowing there are more options now than when he was younger.
“There’s soy, almond, coconut, cashew, oat milk, even avocado ice cream now. Unfortunately, it’s all more expensive than the dairy stuff, so it’s been a very rare treat.” There’s a small smile that goes along with that, knowing that he’s made it so much easier for those little treats to become a part of your niece’s life. “We got cashew milk cookies and cream ice cream for the first time a few weeks ago and you would have thought she had been crowned queen of the world she was so happy.”
Dieter chuckles. “She’s going to end up creating a chain of dairy free ice cream shops like Dairy Queen.” He predicts.
“Steph has been talking about wanting to market snacks for kids with dietary restrictions for a year now. The two of them would have an empire.” And you would be there beside them every step of the way to support and cheer them on.
“She should get Rico to help her. Man is a genius in the kitchen. Should have gone to culinary school.” He tells you, splashing slightly as he adjusts in the hot water to reach for a strawberry.
“She said he’s already got Nora’s diet down after two days.” You chuckle slightly, shaking your head at a sudden thought. “He told me once that his family owns a restaurant. Now all I can imagine is how crazy a restaurant would be if everything on the menu was compatible with a Crohn’s diet. I mean that’s what I cook at home, it could totally be done.”
“It’s a good idea.” He nods his head. “It would give people who normally couldn’t enjoy going out a chance to do so.”
Still laughing softly, you reach for a strawberry of your own from the tray nearby. “I’ll have to call Steph tomorrow and let her know we figured out their future.”
He snorts and gives a small giggle before he takes a bite of his strawberry. He moans when he bites into it, rolling his eyes at the flavors bursting on his tongue. “You can get skinned alive for that.” He tells you after he swallows it.
“Nah. I have a feeling that by the time I get home, something will have happened between them.” Your reaction to the perfectly balanced, sweet, tart, juicy strawberry is nearly identical to Dieter’s and your nose wrinkles on an almost gleeful giggle. “Holy shit these are amazing.”
“Yeah, we will need to buy more.” Dieter predicts. “And I’ll have to start using the gym in the hotel.” His nose wrinkles for a far more unpleasant reason, but the strawberries are worth it.
“I’ll go with you.” Even though you have a feeling you dislike working out the same way he does, things are always easier with moral support. “We can grumble together.”
He snickers and nods. “I’ll hold you to that.” He warns. “If I have to sweat, so do you.”
“I mean, we can work out in other ways, too.” He loves to throw you winks now and then so you toss him one this time, humming as you take the last bite of your strawberry.
“Tease.” He huffs under his breath, narrowing his eyes at you. “Keep it up and you’ll be sorry.” He absolutely doesn’t mean it, but he will play with you.
“I literally had the concierge send up condoms after suggesting we take a bath together,” you remind him, amused at his dramatic huffing and puffing that two weeks ago would have had you rolling your eyes in frustration. “I could not be more explicitly down to clown.”
He stares at you for a split second before he busts out laughing. “Oh god.” He gasps. “Down to clown?” He manages to set his glass on the edge and reaches for you. “Come here, idiot.”
You can’t help but laugh, having chosen the absolute stupidest phrase you could think of just to see that one perfect moment of disbelief on his face before he burst out laughing. In that moment it is painfully obvious to you that you would keep coming up with the dumbest phrases known to man every single day for the rest of your life just to hear him laugh like that. “There’s a reason I don’t teach English,” you joke, shifting in the water to set your own glass aside so you can move into his arms.
“Obviously.” The water makes it easier, turning you and getting your thigh over his so you are straddling his lap. He’s not hard yet, but he quickly will be, with you pressing up against him. His arms come around you and he grins goofily up at you. “Hey.”
“Hey.” The feeling of being held tight in his arms like this - straddling his lap in the hot, scented water with your heart pounding a mile a minute - is something you never thought you would get to have in your entire life, and if the smile on your face is even close to being as beaming as it feels when you duck your head to kiss him, then you must be lighting up the room.
There’s nothing between you, nothing to blame this on. Just the need to kiss you as he leans in, his hand sliding up to cup the back of your head and he presses his lips to yours. Coming home. The feeling is right there, swimming around inside you like the biggest fish in a small pond - inescapable and ready to keep your attention forever if you let it. The half glass of wine you’ve each had is right there on your lips mingling with chocolate and strawberry sweetness, and you’re not even sure which one of you sighs into the kiss first, but it opens up without hesitation.
It’s probably the first time that Dieter has kissed someone without being high or drunk since he could remember. He tightens his hold on you and keeps it light, although he can’t help but slide his tongue along your lips. Both of your hands cup his jaw, tilting it up toward you slightly to deepen the kiss further and invite the tangle of his tongue sweeping into your mouth and returning the gesture eagerly, moaning softly at the taste of him.
The first time was frantic, nearly unhinged in the drunken enthusiasm of the moment. He wants this to be different. Both of you are on the same page, equally wanting this. One hand slides down and squeezes your ass but he doesn’t pick up the pace of his kiss. Keeping his tongue leisurely sweeping through your mouth as he groans.
Your hips rock with the motion, even as slowly as you’re both moving, enjoying the indulgence of it makes you roll your hips back into his hand, and one of yours moves around to cradle the back of his head so you can thread your fingers gently into his hair. Even if this is all that happens tonight it would be a gorgeous feeling, but you know yourself - and you know what he said about himself - and you can all but guarantee it won’t stop here.
It’s ridiculous how quickly he responds. Like his body was programmed to yours, which was true in a sense. His cock starts to harden under you, growing and filling out with every roll of your hips, making him groan into your mouth even more. “Fuck.”
The pleased little smirk on your face is one that has you grinning against his lips before trailing little bites down the line of his jaw. “Whoops,” you rock your hips forward again, luxuriating in the knowledge that you are doing this to him. “How did that happen?”
“No clue.” He drolls sarcastically, groaning when you nip his ear, tugging on the earring. “Probably because I know exactly how good that pussy feels around my cock.” He breathes out, whining slightly when your nail scrapes over his nipple.
“Been thinking about that a lot, huh?” The knowledge that he had jerked off thinking about you might be the most powerful feeling you’ve ever had in the world. Carefully not to mark his skin, you kiss, lick, and bite all the way down his neck just to feel the rumble in his chest.
“Shut up.” He grumbles, cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment. He lets go of your neck and cups your breast. “Hard not to think about it.” He challenges. “Couldn’t tell if it was a one off or if it was just that good.”
“Guess we’re gonna find out.” Despite the teasing, though, something inside you is absolutely certain that good is an understatement.
“Yes we are.” He’s accepted that you want to sleep with him, that you are solid in his arms. “Do you want me to prop you up on the edge of the tub and lick your pussy?”
“God yes.” You spent so many days feeling upset after sleeping with him the first time that you didn’t get to indulge in those memories the way you would have otherwise and you’re dying to build newer, happier memories to replace the ones with negative associations. And ones that you’ll actually remember the next day without trouble.
It’s his turn to nuzzle your jaw, to kiss along it and bite down randomly. Making you whine and roll your hips against his length more. “Good.” He practically moans the word into your ear. “I’ve been dying for another taste.”
“Fuck.” It’s almost a pitiful little whimper, but he’s moving again before you can really even care. Lifting you up in the water and getting you situated on the wide edge on the sunken tub so you can lean against the wall. Like this you can lean back and enjoy, spreading your legs as wide as his broad shoulders demand.
“Hmmm.” Dieter glances down at the wet folds of your cunt and then back up at you with a smirk. “Someone wanted the fresh look?” He murmurs teasingly.
“I may have taken an extra-long shower after Libby called just in case.” You mumble, looking up at the ceiling because it’s vaguely embarrassing admitting that your first thought of getting to spend more time with him knowing he didn’t hate you was hoping for a moment like this.
“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” He teases, right before he leans in and flattens his tongue through your wet folds.
“Fuck.” Because you were looking up and not down at him, he manages to take you completely by surprise with that first touch of his mouth to your pussy. It’s divine in a way that memories just never can be, snapping your attention back down to him and making you gasp at how amazing it feels.
His chuckle rumbles into your cunt, smirk hidden by your folds. Happy that he caught you off guard, his eyes on yours while he takes another long, slow pass at your clit with his tongue.
“Dreamt about this last night.” Your fingers deftly wind their way into his hair, wanting to take advantage of its length before his haircut.
He pulls away for a second, a twinkle in his eyes and a grin pulling his lips wide. “Yeah? You dreamed about this?” He asks before he dives back in, eager to make it dream worthy.
"Last - oh fuck - l-last night." It isn't frantic like last time but immensely determined, as he sets out to turn you into a human Tootsie Roll pop. One lick at a time, with all the focus of a man on a mission, he will find the sweetness at your center and take every drop for himself.
“Sogood.” He groans into you, squeezing your hips and wanting to see how you fall apart for him sober.
“So much b-better in real - oh god! - life.” He is the epitome of a man starved as he licks deeper into your core, groaning and growling into you and making the vibrations of those sounds roll through you on waves of pleasure. “Fuck Dee — so good, baby.”
Dieter loves praise. He fucking loves it. Such a slut for being told that he’s worth something, that he’s doing something right. It feeds into the hollow need inside himself to be better, to be more. He preens into your folds and it makes him even more eager. Gasping into you and pressing deeper, his nose buried against the soft skin of your mound as he licks into you.
“Do you f-fuck like that, baby?” There’s a spark of recognition that champagne had made cloudy a week ago, and your lips curve up in a smirk as you look down at the eager man between your legs. “Do you like being told what a good boy you are?”
Dieter growls burrowing deeper into your cunt like he’s trying to reach your cervix with his tongue. Maybe he is, all he knows he is wants to hear more.
“Jesus.” Nearly falling back against the wall, your fingernails scrape his skull and tug his hair sharply in approval. “You do.” The revelation is delightful, making your moan mix with a little chuckle. “Gonna fucking devour me, aren’t you, baby? So fucking good at it too.” A shiver runs down his spine and he moans into you, cock leaking and twitching under the water as he desperately tries to make you cum.
The sedate and indulgent pace is gone now, as you swear Dieter is trying to swallow of whole pussy first - but he might just succeed from the way heat rolls down your spine and your legs start to quake and squeeze his ears. Keeping up the praise as best you can until it becomes rambling, it’s his name on your lips as you grind your hips down on to his eager tongue, tensing and shivering as you swear your cunt clamps down so tightly he might lose that heavenly tongue.
He swears that he’s going to suffocate between your thighs, and he will die a happy man. Groaning and eagerly trying to slurp down all the molten honey that is pouring out of you. Gripping your hips so hard he’ll leave bruises; Dieter watches your face as you fall apart.
“Holy shit…” You can feel every muscle in your body loosen all at once as you practically droop following the unbelievably intense orgasm. Combing your fingers softly through his hair as a soft apology for pulling too hard, you can’t help the small, rather filthy giggle that escapes your lips when you lean down to kiss him. “Fuck you’re good at that, baby. So fucking good.”
“Yeah?” He gives you a lazy smile, pussy drunk and soft even though he is throbbing under the water. Aching to be inside you again. “You like my mouth now, don’t you?” He teases.
“You’re still a smart ass.” But now you’re shaking your head about it affectionately before throwing him a wink. “But apparently you’re also a very good boy.”
“Fuck.” He whimpers, biting his lip and trying to suppress the moan that is rippling in his throat. He pouts, poking out his lip at you for discovering that phrase. “You’re gonna kill me woman.” He grumbles.
“Am I?” Slipping back into the water with him, you don’t hesitate for a second to taste yourself from his lips, humming when you can feel his cock twitch against your leg. “Do you want to fuck me here, or in the bed? Totally up to you.”
“I don’t think I can wait.” Dieter confesses, wrapping his arms around you and plunging his tongue into your mouth for a heated kiss.
The pure whimper that warms him comes from the back of your throat, and you blindly grapple in back of you for wherever you dropped the condoms just praying you don’t knock anything breakable over in the process.
“God hurry.” Whining, he burrows his face in your neck and pulls you down to grind against his cock, sliding between your folds while you fumble around.
If you moved any faster you’d end up a superhero, finding the pack and tearing open one of the little foil packages for him to roll the rubber down his length as fast as careful will allow.
The way you manage to get a condom on him as he thrusts his length up above the waterline is magical and he’s quickly pulling you closer. “God baby.” He pants, desperate to feel you around him again. “Fuck me.”
“Stolen my line.” It’s mumbled into a fierce kiss, and you practically shove him backward to sit on the built-in seat deep inside the luxurious tub that he thankfully did not over fill. There is about to be a lot of water moving around, as you straddle his lap once again to line the head of his cock up at your entrance.
Dieter’s breath catches as you start to sink down on him. He had thought the first time was good, but this? Watching your clear eyes mist over with passion as you take him inch by inch? This is what it’s supposed to be. Another small, needy little sound escapes him, and he lunges forward to press his lips to yours.
He’s so gorgeously vocal, even when those sounds are being poured into your mouth with every rise and fall of your body. One arm is wrapped around his shoulders to keep him close, and the hungry kisses seem to just blend one into the next even as your free hand scrapes over his chest and his teeth find new places on the column of your neck to nip and bite any time one of you needs air.
“God-fucking-damn.” He huffs, his dick twitching deep inside you when you contract around him like a vice. “You— fuck— you’re like a damn glove around me.”
People always say that your soulmate feels like the best fit for you in every sense of the word, and you can’t do anything but moan your agreement as you grind down in his lap. “‘S like you’re fucking my throat right from my cunt. Fucking amazing.”
He can’t even be cocky about that comment, not right now. It’s all he can do not to cum, clinging to you and kissing your neck while he throbs from the sexy little figure eights you are miming with your hips.
Pleasure builds quickly despite the fact that you’ve already cum once, and there’s so much that is unbelievable about the situation if you think about it too hard - after all you’re riding Dieter fucking Bravo in the bath of a luxury hotel in Switzerland of all places - that you just push all your focus down on him and embrace the fact that he’s touching places inside you that absolutely no one has ever been able to before. You’re whimpering just name in between practically every movement, punctuated with those praises you now know he loves.
Now that he’s gotten inside you again, he can concentrate again. Even though his thoughts are overwhelmingly about how good you feel, he also wants to explore. Brushing kisses over your chest as he works his way down and pushes up one breast so he can suck a nipple into his mouth.
The suddenness of it, the way you were so focused on keeping yourself balanced and then the hot wetness of his mouth on your sensitive nipple took you by surprise, has you practically wailing in pleasure. Your back arches, encouraging him to explore as much of you as he wants with his mouth while you continue to rise and fall on him. Of course sex has been good before, but it’s never been this, and right now that means giving back as good as you’re getting.
He sucks like you will magically produce milk. Biting, soothing with his tongue and drawling circles around the tight skin before he pulls on it again. He loves tits, ass, dick, all of it - but there is something about you that drives him insane. Moaning your name against your breast when your fingers sink into his hair again to tug on it.
Teetering on the edge of bliss is a precarious place to be no matter who you are, and the way he is wringing every ounce of pleasure from you is somewhere between heaven and oblivion. The angle has him battering into your g-spot with every thrust and the strangled warning that you’re about to cum tears from your throat only a few seconds before your cunt is clamping down on him, squeezing his length with every spasm.
Dieter can't even breath, can't think except for the exquisite feeling of your body coming apart around his. Gasping out your name while he tries to help you ride it out, his nearly following immediately after you. Just two short thrusts before he lips rip away from your breast and crushes against yours, cock pulsing and filling the condom as he tries to grind just as deep as he can possibly get.
The passionate, grasping, nearly desperate feeling begins to settle oh-so-slowly. Leaving the two of you drowning in languid kisses as you cling to each other in the choppy water. You have no desire to pull away yet, enjoying the last few aftershocks from the nearly shared orgasms far too much to want to move.
He sighs a little chuckle against your lips, eyes closed as he savors the rush of endorphins that always follows an orgasm. As close to any natural high as he could possibly get. Strumming through his system and making him feel as if the entire tub was floating in the clouds. "Hmmmm." He smiles and kisses you again. "Think you'll remember this time?" He teases.
“Shut up.” You giggle though, teasing rather than upset, and you nip at his bottom lip with a grin. “Not only will I remember, but I’ll also be there when you wake up tomorrow.”
“Thank God.” He huffs, rolling his eyes at you. “Starting to get a complex.”
“I’ll be right there, just like I was this morning. I promise.” Pressing a kiss to the bridge of his nose, you don’t miss the way it wrinkles slightly under the show of affection and you make a mental note for the sketch you’re going to do tomorrow - one thing he doesn’t like about his appearance that you do.
"Good." He doesn't like sounding needy, but he never wants to feel like that again, doesn't like the way that it seems to tear his heart in two.
“Careful now.” Still teasing, you duck your head to kiss his cheek and end up with a lopsided grin on your face. “Or I might start thinking you actually like me.” It’s such a precarious tease, especially because you so, so desperately want some kind of affirmative from him but aren’t willing to do more than just tease to see if you can get it. A real, emotional conversation is just far more than you can handle right now.
He huffs and pinches your ass playfully. "God forbid that happens." He drolls sarcastically with a wink. He wants to hear that you care about him, that you hold an ounce of affection for him just because he's him. Not because he's your soulmate.
“Right?” One more quick kiss and you’re gently lifting yourself off of his lap, trying to avoid the stinging disappointment in getting sarcasm as an answer instead of affection. “Come on, let’s dry off and crawl into bed.”
He holds the base of the condom while you pull yourself off of him. "God, I think we will have to set an alarm so we don't sleep the morning away." He murmurs softly. "Maybe watch the sunrise together?" He offers as the two of you stand and he removes the condom.
“Sounds pretty.” It’s a romantic thought, which is a slight surprise after not really getting an answer out of him just now, but you smile. “I’ll check what time sunrise is supposed to be and set the alarm? Then maybe we can have breakfast in bed before we get started with the day?”
He smiles wistfully and gives you a small nod. "That sounds like the perfect beginning to the day." He agrees, loving the idea of a leisurely morning in bed with you.
It takes all of five minutes for the two of you to drain the tub, dry off, and tumble into bed still naked, not seeing the need for pajamas. With the curtains pulled open, the lights from the city seep into your room to make sure that you won’t miss a second of sunrise. “5:43 sunrise tomorrow,” you report, setting your phone’s alarm for a few minutes earlier so you won’t miss the start.
"Ugh, that's early." Dieter grumbles as he tugs you into his arms. "But it'll be worth it." He presses his lips to your forehead. "Something you can paint." His arms slide around you and he sighs and you settle against him.
“It’ll be worth it.” You’re sure of that, and nuzzle into his side until you find the exact position you’re most comfortable in - which happens to be one where his shoulder is your pillow.
"Good night, beautiful." He murmurs softly, basking in the feeling of warmth and comfort. Having you in his arms felt right in so many different kinds of ways and he just wanted to drift off to sleep in this feeling.
______
Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat​ @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri    
YSV: @tortor-mcgee @hnt-escape​ @sammus-white​ @spanishmossmagnolia  @frasmotic @quietpainter    
My Masterlist!
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sunkissed-zegras · 1 month
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hi! i love your writing and if you don’t mind me asking, what/how many WIPs do you have rn?
hiii babe THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! that means the world to me 😫🙈
i have to catch up on my 1k celly blurbs (like way over 20+ requests so keep an eye out for that 😌) and the celly fics which are “the olive theory (but with tomatoes)” with nico hischier and “in a world of boys, he’s a gentleman” with adam fantilli! i also have some requests that i have to get done with
other than the celly stuff i have my fake dating / childhood best friends fic with jack hughes & my enemies to lovers + roommate fic with trevor zegras which are both incredibly very lengthy lol (i’m a d1 yapper what can i say?)
thank you for asking again and you expect these all to come out soon, not sure when though LMAO esp since midterms are coming up 🙏
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sygoflyy · 7 months
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I was tagged by @six2vii and thank you for even thinking of me.
Rules: How much do these tropes affect your decision to click on a fic?
Baby, is this research cause it could be?
Scale:
-10 = very dissuaded
0 = don’t care
10 = very enticed
nope = blocked tag or insta click out when fic is not tagged.
Bonus points for explaining and whether it’s conditional.
Color coded for me, a person who likes visual aids. I almost exclusively read SamBucky so answering with them in mind.
Age Gap: -4 - At first because it's typically a power imbalance that's icky and not something canon-specific like with vampires or with cryo frozen Bucky.
Codependency: 7 - I actually like this in fiction and it lands based on the talent of the writer. It's the unhealthy side of the soulmates coin, I guess. I like the idea of two people refusing to be their best selves for the sake of reaching self-actualization. No, they will just be what they need to be together; the rest of the world be damned. This is my headcanon for SamBucky in terms of therapy, I can explain.
Enemies to Lovers: 10 - Duh ... I wouldn't be here if I didn't see my grandparents as James and Samuel in CA:TWS. Of course I love people who hate each other before realizing they're actually good together, with and without clothing. And the transition has to be believable.
Enemies with Benefits: 9 - It moves to 10 when they realize it's more than benefits and it's them needing to buy a house and make babies (or have pets or get matching tattoos) and cook dinner together every single day. I'm leaving the fic if they kiss mid-argument though, esp if the argument needs to happen or is about something important.
Fake Dating/Relationship: -5 - As a person who's straightforward and bold, it's hard to believe anyone would do this. BUT it's been written well by a few people so maybe my rating is inaccurate. They'd need to sell me on why the characters would ask/agree to fake date instead of real date or distract me with their wonderful writing of the plot, dialogue, and some 'I wish I was there', 'me and who' smut.
Found Family: 0 - Indifferent and probably because I'm so close to both sides of my family. I'd need to see an obvious need for it. It can't be subtle.
Friends to Lovers: -2 - This is a personal thing bc even after kissing my bestfriend, we just wanted to stay friends. And nobody asked but in the case of a certain Marvel pair, I think of those two as brothers so I'm always like ew but privately bc, again, no one asked me.
Friends with Benefits: 5 - Yes but friends only in the basic sense of them enjoying being around each other just before and a little while after the benefits. In fan fiction, this needs to be pwp because this isn't romantic and I prefer romance over 'benefits' in fics ... or if the writer baits me with a 'maybe they'll be more' and it's not that specific Marvel pair.
Hurt/Comfort: -1 - I'm gonna skim the comments first to make sure my faves aren't being dragged through hell for shits and giggles. There must be a payoff for the hurt. The hurt has to have a purpose or it needs to be circumstantially unavoidable. A skilled writer can get me to like it, otherwise, I may check out.
Love Triangle: -5 - Not if it's messy. If it's not a Sammich, Sam Wilson in the middle, those two men pining and lusting and running after him, throw it away. Same with Louis from IWTV, which is even harder to get me to read.
Mistaken/Hidden Identity: 0 - Indifferent. Won't rush to read it, won't avoid reading it.
Monster Fucking: -10 - No. Nope. Never. Not today. Not tomorrow. But I *did* like that movie The Shape of Water. But he/it was humanoid. It's usually an octopus in fics or some shit. How do suction cups work in the hole? [runs and hides].
Obsession, Possessiveness: 5 - A skilled writer can make this work. It also works better with certain genres and characters. The obsession and possessiveness can't result in the abuse of the receiving partner though. There's a fine line. Would take a skilled writer taking it seriously and not romanticizing abuse but romanticizing the way dysfunction can manifest when a [insert adjective] person expresses love.
Opposites (Grumpy/Sunshine): 10 - Oh honey, I ship Sam and Bucky. It's the core of they're characterization, friendship, love, past, present, and future. They are literally my grandparents. Bucky-middle finger. Sam-jazz hands. Forever.
Poly: -5 - I've recently allowed myself to peak into the Cap OT3 and let me tell you, I don't read without looking at all the comments. Must be Sam-centric. Must be Sam in the middle. Must be bottom!Sam in a canon-compliant fic or explain that if he tops, the super-soldiers don't quite get much out of it and they prefer to bend him over. Is this a nsfw answer? I think we're all grown, I dunno. I will accept a vers OT3 in a no powers au. I have PARAMETERS around this. Heavy 'don't piss me off' energy.
Pregnancy: 7. 10 if it's WriterKenna - I've only read 3; 2 SamBucky and 1 IWTV. I did a mild mpreg!Sam myself. I'm thinking of expanding that. Had I been asked 5 months ago, I would've gagged. This is also insane because pregnancy scares me and I will never experience it. Gun to my head? Kill me. But Bucky having Sam barefoot and pregnant (and even vice versa) are fine with me.
Second Chance: 7 - A skilled writer can make it work even if EYE wouldn't give the person a second chance, the writer can convince me the character could/would.
Sex to Feeling: 10 - 100%. I've been working on writing it into the thoughts of Sam and Bucky when they're horizontal in my fics. Would love to see more of this for them.
Slowburn: 5 - Depends on the writer. Too slow and I'm skipping paragraphs or giving up. Heavy on the 'don't piss me off' here. Takes a skilled writer. I've seen it done incredibly well in the SamBucky fandom.
Soulmates: -5 - I skip this tag a lot now. I've read maybe 4 and written one (my first fic and as writing practice) myself. It gets old quick. String, colors, birthmarks. I've seen enough.
Bottom line: Everything boils down to the skill of the writer. If the writer is a great writer, I'll probably read anything except monster fucking. So sorry, dolls.
Tagging ... Ignore me if you don't want to, no hard feelings: @thejaguarback @logicheartsoul @blacclotusss @killejoie @santuri @blueiight and anyone else willing to take the time and answer.
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a-cloud-for-dreams · 6 months
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I want a book where we can romance the Thorne siblings esp Sebastyan and Astrid EXCEPT PATRYK LOL
Like for Bas I can imagine an enemies-to-lovers sitch with another government figure person (?) or someone in a related field, and for Astrid, I can see a fake dating to real feelings/"I hate everyone but you" relationship or a soulmate au??
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saintlesbian · 7 months
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alright. slow burn/fake date/enemies to lovers: sonny vs jason vs carly .
god this is hardddd um. fake date jason bc i don't have it in me to commit to him fr esp w/ so many other ladies in PC wanting him, slow burn sonny bc... idk i probably couldn't handle bein a mob wife but at least he's a pretty decent guy post-Nixon falls, and enemies to lovers w/ carly bc my god. yea i hate this bitch BUT i can fix her
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petrichoraline · 8 months
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Heheheh, here i go and I wanna know your
Favorite tropes
Kpop bands
Female characters
Ice cream flavors
Words in your language
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bestie i take days to answer single questions and you've given me 5 😭 okay then, let's get to it!!
Tropes💘
a few things i go insane for:
power couple or stick it to the haters
when the characters know each other so well and prove their bond to outsiders. this includes but is not limited to:
"he's a monster!" "no, he isn't." (LBFAD)
"he'd never fall for someone like her" *he's head over heels* (Itazura na Kiss)
"i won't allow it!" *proceeds to give their blessings because they finally see how they're giving their kid what they failed to* (alternatively the couple flips them off and rides off into the sunset) (F4: Thailand iirc)
contract marriage or alternatively fake dating
nothing like faking it into making it 🥰 bonus points if a cocky mean outsider is into one of them and knows that it's a scam so they get a nasty surprise (idek where that is coming from but I've seen smth like that fs)
this trope's sister:
forced proximity combined with enemies to lovers
(one bed™️ can fit into this category)
oh to start on the wrong foot with someone but then be forced to see them in their natural state and appreciate the way they tie their hair before doing the dishes and help out the neighbours bring their groceries upstairs. to lie in bed thinking about how they bought an extra soda can ("it was on sale" ) that is coincidentally the flavour you love but they find gross. this trope is the gift that keeps on giving, you get domesticity, you get gradual mutual understanding, seeing them at their most vulnerable, it's so good. and they're basically prepared for marriage lol
introducing a bunch of diverse characters quickly through narration
i'm a sucker for a good variety of characters having unique to them intros (murder mystery staple) esp when it's like the camera going through an apartment building and you learn what type of person lives on each floor, it's so fun
found family or supportive friend group
again, usually a colourful bunch of characters, this time united by their love for each other. the compassion, the warmth, the shenanigans, it's so good 😭 (thinking of the kitty gang and the uncanny counter squad lol)
Kpop bands💫
for bands it's
1. Day6
2. The Rose
3. N.Flying
and then Xdinary Heroes, Lucy and FT Island sharing a spot ig haha
as for groups..i's insane to even think about it, I just know Seventeen and Day6 are on there, everyone else is depending on criteria lol like whose albums have i listened to the most? Ateez, Monsta X, Got7. who are legends i can't not mention? INFINITE, SHINee, EXO, BTOB etcetc. don't do this to me lmao
Female characters 🪷
I'll just have to go with ladies in bl because otherwise it's impossible
1. Hashimoto Mio (Kieta Hatsukoi)
2. Photjanee (MSP)
3. Yan Li & Wen Qing (to me they're sisters and they're sharing a spot idc) (CQL)
4. Fujisaki Nozomi (Cherry Magic)
5. Miriam (Tonhon Chonlatee)
shoutout to my love Jingjai from Home School 💓
Ice cream flavours🍦
in no particular order:
1. chocolate
2. yogurt
3. pistachio
4. raspberry sorbet
5. caramel
Words in your language 🔤
as I refuse to flat out state where I'm from you're getting descriptions of words lmao
the word for love with the connotation of it not being romantic (but could also be used for romantic love)
the word we use as a replacement for any place, action, quality, as a verb, adjective, noun or adverb when the proper word doesn't come to mind (works best if the other person has context, otherwise they're just listing out things you could mean and you get gradually more frustrated that they don't get it)
a made up word combining a word for idiot and the name for a french bulldog (I will not be explaining but it's hilarious)
an adjective from the word for moon that describes moony things like light, stone, cycle
and not one of my faves but a fave to use with kids - an endearing nickname from the word for sun
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coeurify · 10 months
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what’s your fave trope and why? ive been stalking for a while but gettin the courage to speak. So hi 👋🏻
hiii lovely!!! omg <3 idk if i could pick one and its always changing but rn!!! it is
childhood friends to lovers, because of the ultimate pining and deep connection it brings. no one knows each other like they do but they also dont know SO much bc of these hidden feelings and its so delicious and the “its always been you” moment always hits. esp when its angsty and gay. god, like the book her name in the sky.
and second, sorry, is probably a good rivals to lovers. enemies to lovers is good sooo good but sm of what ppl call “enemies to lovers” is rlly just rivals to lovers and I EAT THAT SHIT UP EVERY TIME! THE BANTER, THE TENSION NOD NOD
(runner ups are fake dating and soulmate aus.)
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anecdotal-acorn · 2 years
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Romantic Tropes and Shippy Things I Love
- Super big x super small (works great for hugs, esp. when one's head reaches the other’s chest)
- Moody goth x literal embodiment of sunshine
- Childhood friends to lovers
- One immediately going to the other after a bad day because they know that's a surefire way to feel better
- Inversely, one specifically not going to the other after a bad day because they don't want to burden them with their problems and all the ensuing “I'm here for you, on your good days and on your bad days” angst
- Badass engaged couples
- Simple, surprise proposals somewhere private instead of in front of a crowd of people
- Of course of course there's only one bed how could I NOT
- Enemies to lovers (I adore using this in my writing)
- Lust at first sight that turns into love
- Fake dating but then they Catch Feelings™
- Bodyguard x one in need of a bodyguard? I don't see this one a lot but I feel like it has potential
- Couples that are on again/off again but they know each other so well none of the other characters can even tell when they're dating or not and at this point they're always too bewildered to ask
- Mutually being smitten right away
- Can't keep their eyes/hands off each other
- Uptight x wild card who each have a little bit to learn from their partner
- Work partners, like detectives maybe?
- Baking together (esp when one has absolutely no idea how to bake…batter everywhere, both are covered in frosting by the end but they are grinning from ear to ear)
- Watching bad movies together and laughing so hard
- Couples that have broken up fifty times but will always find their way back to each other
Hope you enjoyed! <3
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barneswilsonrogers · 7 months
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Trope game!
thank you for the tag @writerkenna
Rules: How much do these tropes affect your decision to click on a fic?
-10 -> very dissuaded
0 -> don’t care either way
10 -> very enticed
nope -> if it’s a hard no and you’d never click on a fic with that tag or or you even have the tag blocked or you’d insta click out of the fic if it wasn’t tagged.
Bonus points for explaining the rating and whether it’s conditional
Age Gap: 5
only if its silver fox steve and the age gap is not big
Codependency: 5
I like it only to an extent. If it’s too extreme then it becomes annoying as fuck. Especially if the main ship hurt other people/treat other people like they’re less important than their partner (iykyk)
I also never saw the appeal of a character who commit s*icide because their partner dies. Yall are not Romeo and Juliet calm down.
Enemies to lovers: 6
It’s not my favorite. I would only click if I like both characters equally. Also sometimes this trope can easily turns into a toxic relationship which I dislike.
Enemies With Benefits: 6
what’s the difference between this and enemies to lovers?? arent they the same lol
Fake Dating/Relationship: 7
I've read a couple of sambucky/samsteve fics like this and they're always fun.
Found Family: 10
This is my shit! Cap quartet is my favorite example.
Friends To Lovers: 10
yep another one of my faves! it's why I love samsteve so much.
Friends With Benefits: 5
meh
Hurt/Comfort: 8
I loveeee it so much esp if it gets steamy at the end hehe
Love Triangle: -1
I used to love it when I was younger but now it's poly or else
Mistaken/Hidden Identity: 7
I love it esp if the writer is skilled and there are many twists and turns along the way
Monster Fu… Relationship: 0
I dont understand loool is it like Venom and Eddie? is it one of those abo Werewolves thing? I'm not against it I just don't get it lmaoiksdnfk idk these fics are not my radar thats all
Does vampire count because I do ship loustat and lestat is kind of a monster 😂
Obsession, Possessiveness, etc: -1
Sorry but most of the times, the dialogue makes me cringed!!! So I rather avoid them lmao
Opposites (like grumpy×sunshine, etc): 10
Duh?? i ship sambucky
Poly: 10
YES A THOUSAND TIMES YES in the mcu i ship samstevebucky, clintbuckynat, stevebuckypeggy, rhodeytonypepper - they're all amazing
Pregnancy: 8
I'm a sap i love domestic things
Second Chance: 8
Oh, this is beautiful esp if it's about Steve Rogers building a new life after he wakes up and making the most of it because he's grateful to have a second chance.
Sex To Feelings: 8 oh yes. always a yes.
Slowburn: 8 I love when a story is so good and you don't want it to end so please make it as slow as you want lol
Soulmates: -1 yeah idk sometimes it works, sometimes it too predictable
tagging! (with 0 pressure): @alivedean @lilacevans @love-buckybarnes @margaretacarter and anyone of my mutuals
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heleneplays · 2 years
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this or that | tropes n stuff
tagged as blorbo in their notes by @pimenita on my main, @h-doodles but i like to answer them here on my side blog which has. a semblance of a tag system 🤡 so mrrp thank <3
MOVING ON PLEASE I AM SO EMO ABOUT TROPES CATCH ME WEEPING:
slow burn or love at first sight (BARK BARK BARK BARK!!!!!!!!!!!!!) // fake dating or secret dating (I would honestly like either but secret dating tops far than fake dating because bruh. being rather private individuals and running around the friend group my beloved) // ENEMIES TO LOVERS or best friends to lovers (PLEASEEEEE. LITERALLY I AM OUT HERE WITH A DEEP LOVE OF ENEMIES ESP IF THEY'RE UNREPENTANT, REDHEADS WOMEN WHO CAN KICK MY ASS 🤡) // oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence (BARKING SOOOOO BAD FOR THIS HONESTLY) // hurt-comfort or amnesia (IT'S ABOUT THE TRAGEDY TO MEEEEEEE I WANT A DEEP GOOD CRY AND GET THEM BLORBOS TOGETHER) // fantasy au or modern au (I AM PERSONALLY BITING BC YES. I DO LOVE ME MY AUs) // mutual pining or domestic bliss (ENEMIES TO LOVERS ACTUAL PINING IDIOTS TO CLUMSY GETTING TOGETHERS TO DOMESTIC BLISS SLOW BURN ALWAYS. ALWAYS!!!!!!!!) // smut or fluff (watch me read smut with a stone cold expression on MY face and blush like a bitch reading fluff the next <3) // canon-compliant or fix-it (fanfic exists as a love letter to canon but at this point the fandoms i've been in. THEY ARE A HATE LETTER to the creators who frequently sidelined chemically stable potential wlw and other lgbt ships and rep. which is honestly a very very different experience with James Shaw. anything I create for the Relics Trilogy is a love letter of thanks not only to him but to my beloved fictional group of blorbos <3) // reincarnation or character death (pls character death???? i LOVE it when done properly!!!! NOT TO MENTION THE ANGST....... MMMMM YES THE ANGST,,,,,, but REINCARNATION... LITERALLY TRANSCENDING TIME AND SPACE WITH A LOVE THAT LASTS... AND FINDING THEM BECAUSE ONE LIFETIME IS NOT ENOUGH-- I AM SO EMO ABOUT IT!!!!!!!) // one-shot or multi-chapter (writing wise i WISH i could keep my ideas as oneshots but as a reader PLS. LONGER THE BETTER and this is why i am die whenever i find a long fic that is both compelling AND finished bc. good godddd you cannot imagine the pain of seeing the date of the last update. yes i will comment completely about the fic gushing with praise but thats just abt it) // kid fic or road trip fic (PLEASE DOMESTIC BLISS WITH THEIR KIDS,,,,,,,,,,,, SCREAMING SHAKING CRYING) // arranged marriage or accidental marriage (listen i could wax poetic all day abt these two in fics but AUGHHHHHH mawwiage 🥺) // high school romance or middle aged romance (I COULD GO WITH EITHER but rn i am sooooo emo abt María so am going with this one) // time travel or isolated together (covid fucked me up about being isolated and i think i would have so many problems so catch me whip and naenae) // neighbours or roommates (oh my god.... and they were roomamates!!!) // sci-fi au or magic au (once again i am out here with AUs and honestly at this point idc i am just hoarding all the AUs and thats the tea) // Body swap or Gender bend (but only provisionally)  // ANGST or crack (AW YISSSSSSS GIMME THE SPICY ANGST I NEED TO SCREAM AND SHAKE AND CRY AND THROW UP ABOUT IT OR BUST,,, but honestly i also LOVE crack actually <3 wish fulfillment of OP and BAMF MC) // apocalyptic or mundane (rn?? looking for peace and i am out here)
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tagging the blorbo in my notes (if thats okay and you too, would like to answer): @jamesshawgames @haniiebeedraws @mira-shard @twins-born-in-a-new-moon @sylencr @slytherincursebreaker @sateenkaari-dragon @catohphm
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the blank template:
slow burn or love at first sight // fake dating or secret dating // enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers // oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence // hurt-comfort or amnesia // fantasy au or modern au // mutual pining or domestic bliss // smut or fluff // canon-compliant or fix-it // reincarnation or character death // one-shot or multi-chapter // kid fic or road trip fic // arranged marriage or accidental marriage // high school romance or middle aged romance // time travel or isolated together // neighbours or roommates // sci-fi au or magic au // body swap or gender bend  // angst or crack // apocalyptic or mundane
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kudosmyhero · 9 months
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The Amazing Spider-Man (vol. 3) #6
Read Date: December 03, 2022 Cover Date: November 2014 ● Writer: Dan Slott ● Penciler: Humberto Ramos ● Inker: Victor Olazaba ● Colorist: Edgar Delgado ● Letterer: Joe Caramagna ● Editor: Nick Lowe ●
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**HERE BE SPOILERS: Skip ahead to the fan art/podcast to avoid spoilers
Reactions As I Read: ● does Aunt May know who Spidey is? ● AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA ● ok that's pretty epic, JJJ self-sabotaging the story of his life ● I hope he can breathe in that… ● Silk, i love you ● THE BAR WITH NO NAME! this is my first time coming across it in a comic book ● it still has to be hard on Anna Maria to see Peter making out with Cindy. He--his body, at least--was her lover ● and Cindy being in isolation for 10 years but basically shrugging it off ● i also read Dan Slott's Silver Surfer series. I enjoy his writing--esp on the Spider-Man stuff--but i feel like he stays more surface level when there is potential to go to some very dark places with the characters ● nice moment with Electro and Spidey. Felicia is nuts
Synopsis: Jonah proclaims his first Fact Channel exclusive as Black Cat takes off Spider-Man's mask, however, everyone watches in awe how Jonah himself ruined his own time in the spotlight by blocking the shot, leaving him in shock and anger once he finds out. Fortunately for Peter, Silk arrives in the nick of time, covering his face with webbing. Black Cat and Electro battle her but she manages to escape the place, impressing Peter with her good performance in her first supervillain battle, prompting Felicia to search for reinforcements.
Felicia arrives to the Bar with No Name, where the criminals present are giving an eulogy for Francine (who was accidentally killed by Electro). She requests their assistance against Spider-Man but all of them refuse since she's still allied with Electro and consider her a danger. Meanwhile, Silk brings Peter back home where Anna Maria helps him to take off the webbing off his face. Anna reminds Peter of another commitment from his company to demonstrate their Anti-Electro trap, bringing Silk again, since Peter considers her "His Good Luck charm".
Electro pressures Sajani into telling him how effective the Anti-Electro trap will be in removing his powers but Felicia interrupts their talk in order to ask her about how the device works. They both infiltrate the demonstration, suiting Electro into the "Fake Electro" costume while Felicia disguises herself as one of the operators. Anna Maria brings Peter and Cindy into the demonstration, only to be warned by the lattermost's Spider-Sense of the danger ahead (revealing that her Spider-Sense is more acute and accurate than Peter's). They both suit up, but Anna complains that Peter is once again bailing out on his company, but Peter leaves Anna in charge, albeit after giving her a promotion with a better title and more pay. Silk wraps up Peter with extra webbing in order to give him better protection against Electro once they jump into action.
As Anna Maria arrives to announce the cancellation of the demonstration, Black Cat and Electro see that the News helicopter approaches, apparently being anonymously tipped off by her, since she wanted all eyes on them (but mostly on her). Felicia starts the machine, further enhancing Electro's power only to be interrupted by Spider-Man and Silk. Electro blasts him off but his insulated webbing protects him. Right then, he tells Silk to cover Electro with her webbing while he deals with Felicia. She changes the plan, using the wiring to overload Electro, putting his powers way out of control, shooting his lightning bolts against the helicopter, but Silk manages to make a giant airbag with her webbing to save them.
Peter tries to stop Felicia who puts him to the test asking him if he will waste time confronting her or saving his enemy, this in order to see if it's really him instead of Octavius. Peter jumps into the machine, using his webbing to cover Electro in order to take him out of there. Peter asks Felicia for help but she refuses, revealing that she wants to see him burn, since their relationship and the trust she had into him made her weak, calling him the unluckiest part of her life. Electro asks to let go, but Peter remains determined to save him, until they both are saved by Silk who pulls them out of the machine. Peter asks Silk to wrap the three of them into a webpod to save them from the explosion.
The Fact Channel reports the explosion, announcing that Electro is now depowered, while the police blames the incident on the poor security measures from Parker Industries, but Jonah once again launches another of his tirades against Spider-Man, giving his co-anchor Natalie the time to talk with Cindy who decided to take a job with them as their new intern (after hearing thanks to her heightened senses that her former intern quit during the explosion), determined to use their assets in order to find her missing family.
After the incident, most of the low-level criminals visit Black Cat, who took over the Eel's former hideout, in order to proclaim their new allegiance to her, impressed with how she fought Spidey, took out Electro, and gave the police force and Parker Industries a major blow. Felicia enjoys her newfound glory, leaving her determined to become the Queen of the criminal underground.
In Parker Industries, Sajani manages to return safely, while Anna and Peter discuss the fact that the city hates the company, Black Cat is still on the loose and now he must face the danger of Morlun, but Peter considers the day a win since they managed to save Electro's life and also depower him. Sajani enters the room and tells them that in order to escape she had to reveal how the machine works, although unbeknownst to them she was willing to give them information, since she considers the "Super-Villain Prison" the worst business model, aside from the apparent strong dislike to Peter. Sajani asks Anna Maria for her help in Peter's other projects but tells her to keep this from Peter, who reflects that this was a good day for them, albeit with a few bumps, but things are looking bright for him ahead.
(https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Amazing_Spider-Man_Vol_3_6)
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Fan Art: Cindy and Peter by dream-iris
Accompanying Podcast: ● Untold Spider Talk - episode 06
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3gremlins · 9 months
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my partner has been making me watch this "romance"* anime that's sort of cute but also extremely frustrating. He thought i'd like it b/c i love "enemies to lovers" tropes (especially the ones where they're constantly snarking at each other and the tension is PALPABLE) but this is the worst version of that.
It's very clear the otp are not really enemies, but are too proud to ask each other out b/c they're afraid to "lose" some fake binary "war of the sexes" so every episode they both just lose and i end up screaming at the screen "MAYBE IF YOU ACTUALLY TALKED!!" a lot.
there's bits that are cute that keep me watching b/c there's a third, silly character who keeps haplessly getting in the way of their stupid games and the whole show would be better if silly character dated the female lead instead (tbf i think most shows would be better if they were queer- the female lead *is* obsessed with silly character's body tho, it's not that far of a leap to ship it really) [*tbc, i like romance animes in general i just put it in quotes b/c this is not an enjoyable romance anime to me at all- i generally dislike "will they/won't they" plotlines esp when it pulls it out for SEASONS. like you're allowed "burning passionate we think we hate each other but really it's the opposite, will they ever get over themselves and be happy" for one season MAX before i start to get annoyed. Stretching it out till the end of series means nobody gets to enjoy this relationship]
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bearseulgs · 2 years
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your moots as fanfic tropes?
yuhh lezzgo
@completelyrain love at first sight bc 1. she's so easy to get along with even from the first convo and 2. she's so pretty 💋 like fr gorgeous
@1-800-simping best friends to lovers, like it's like ur already super close but ur feelings begin to change and UGH I LOVE THAT TROPE not as much as i love Val mwah
@woonie-muffin that soulmate au with the pinky string IT'S SO CUTE and they'd fit it so well ☹️
@1-800-call-ria fake dating. don't ask questions Ria bc i can't explain this one it just feels right
@hanyweol dumb jock x exasperated nerd aka the best trope, pls let me be the dumb jock to ur exasperated nerd 🙏 /j ily tho
@yeeunjia coffee shop au i can't explain this it just Makes Sense i love it for her
@haechanls hurt/comfort fics, idk if this counts as a trope but idk it's just so sweet and intimate and i think it's great for them
@ihugjakey bodyguard au they'd fit it so well on either side
@silvermistcosmos rivals to loversss esp if it's like academic rivals, idk why but i feel like she'd suit it really well
@0423s that scenario where they're both superheroes and they flirt or are shy irl but are kinda enemies in hero work and they don't know each other's identities until this like random scenario idk i like it and i think it suits her
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taegularities · 1 year
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lady danbury was such an underrated character! she rlly kept everyone humble lol
im so curious to see what colin and penelope's genre will be, esp since we already saw fake dating and enemies to lovers
also im not the same anon as the top 5 one, but thats funny that we sent it so close lol! its refreshing and nostalgic to hear about bridgerton on my timeline tho
she did !! and i love how fearless she was </3 yeah, you're so right.. i can imagine childhood friends to lovers? friendship is definitely going to play a huge role in their story.
and omfg, i'm still so surprised lmfao there were like 40 seconds between your messages :'D ahhh yes, you can talk to me about anything honestly, i'm all about nostalgia <3
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actnatural-ly · 2 years
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Top 5 fictional tropes 💞
oh god so many...
enemies to lovers is always my #1
idk if this is a trope or what it's called but when two characters first see the worst of each other and fall in love anyway? maybe it's just a subtrope of enemies to lovers
second chance
friends to lovers esp when it's full of pining and reluctance
fake dating but only if it's rationalized well
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