#tw polyamory

— If you really cared for them, you would understand, father! But as always, you put your so-called mission above everything, even us! Even them! — Bruce clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes in his direction, then turned to Jason.

— And you! How many chances do I have to give you? Both of you! You don't change. You will never change. And until you do that, you will never deserve (Y/N)’s or mine trust. Or their love. — Jason's heart broke in two, but he didn't react on the outside. Just kept his hard, Red Hood’s exterior. As he always did every time he and Bruce had a falling out.

— Bruce… — Dick muttered, a mix of a warning to remind him of not going too far, and betrayal by what he was witnessing. Bruce didn't look phased. And the fact he was still wearing Batman's suit, minus the cowl, just made this whole situation more genuine. He was neither Bruce Wayne, the persona, nor Batman, the vigilant. He was just Bruce. Their boss and their father.

— You hunted down that man, tortured and killed him! And you… — He took his gaze away from Jason and glared at Damian again. — Knew about it, and didn't notify us!

— I did know about it. Todd, you should have told us before. I also wanted that scum’s blood in my hands-

— ENOUGH! THE BOTH OF YOU WILL STAY AWAY FROM (Y/N). FOREVER.

Tim raised an eyebrow.

— Sound’s convenient. — All head’s snapped in his direction.

— What do you mean, Tim? — Dick asked. All muscles on his body tense. Tim gazed at him for a moment, then at Damian and Jason, then at Bruce again, staring directly into his eyes. — I just think it's very convenient that Bruce's getting rid of two of them. While your reason checks with past conflicts we had, with your morals and mission. It's also good for you that you wouldn't have to share (Y/N)’s attention with so many people in the future. Right, Bruce?

Silence took hold of the room.

— What are you implying? — Bruce stomped forward until he was face to face with Tim, their nose’s almost touching, daring him to say more. Tim didn't back down.

— Yeah, Tim, what're you implying? — Jason raised an eyebrow behind his helmet and took a step forward. The others copied that action.

— I’ve been watching you, Bruce. Just like you've been watching us. I know you’ve been upgrading contingency plans, more specifically, our contingency plans. I think he's been trying to keep us busy. To rile us up to commit mistakes. While he hogs all of (Y/N)’s attention. He said Damian could be trusted again if he proved himself, that was a year ago, and he still didn't give Damian permission. I bet he knew Damian would get restless and get more violent with criminals. Until he had an excuse to kick him out. And Jason, he let you spend time with (Y/N) at university. But as soon as (Y/N) started calling you their best friend, hanging out with you outside of classes and even confiding in you about their trauma, proving that our plan to make them trust us was finally working, suddenly (Y/N)’s ex receives an offer to transfer to GCPD, while everyone here has a… Weakness, when it comes to losing people we love and avenging their suffering, it's a known fact some are more… Trigger-happy than others.

Dick shook his head.

— Tim, that's something serious you're accusing him of.

— Let him continue. — Bruce growled darkly.

— I don't have anything to accuse you of, Bruce. I just don't trust you. — He shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.

— So you're ready to brush off what they did? — Bruce accused and Dick started to feel even more restless seeing that the distance between them didn't change, feeling the urge to get in the middle and defend his little brother.

— I didn't say anything. But I wouldn't be surprised if me or Dick were next. — That made Dick snap.

No, he can't.

He can’t keep me away from them.

After everything I did.

We're just so close now.

Just earlier today we were having lunch together.

He can't.

He can't do this to me.

Is that how Jay and Dami felt? Is that why they snapped and started killing people? Is that why Jason killed that guy? Just for the idea of losing them forever?

Is that why, even with how heartbreaking and horrible it sounds, any possibility of someone trying to take them away from them made Tim voice out his paranoia? Thoughts Dick had when everything was quiet, when he just brushed it off as intrusive thoughts?

It isn't… Logical… But it also is…

The only thing stopping him from believing Tim wholeheartedly is the lifelong trust he had on Bruce. But those are just feelings. And they all feel. Intensely. For you.

And as much as they tried to make it peaceful, everyone having a piece of you and being happy. They were having problems, and a traitor was always a possibility.

Either way, he couldn't take that chance.

That night, Wayne Manor slept almost completely empty. All of the sons were gone. And you would know it too.

It's been a week. They've been meeting at the apartment just beside yours. It was empty, until Damian bought it, and started living there after cutting ties with his father. He wasn't happy that the others were also using it as their nest, a place to meet and talk about strategies. And keep an eye on you.

Damian was slowly steering his tea, mind elsewhere, not really paying mind to the conversation. While it was important, his stomach was full of butterflies and his heart pounded hard every time he thought about earlier, something he couldn't stop doing. After a whole year of being almost completely away from you, finally spending time with you was like a dream. That just made his resentment towards his father grow worse, even if he didn't do that on purpose, it still felt like injustice.

He knew since he was born, his way of doing things was always better.

He just told you he didn't know that part of the town much, and you, sweet you, already acquainted with his brothers, invited him to show him around. A bad taste came to his mouth whenever he thought he was the least close to you, even if he knew everything there was to know about his beloved. He got left behind. He let himself be left behind.

Because he was weak. Because he was submissive. Because he trusted his father.

His mother did send him to his progenitor's home saying that he needed to learn from him.

— We could use the League.

All heads snapped to him.

— Huh?

— We are talking about contingency plans for our father. We could have the League of Assassins on our side. Infinite resources against one single man. (Y/N) would live in luxury. And they did tell us… — His heart warmed at the sensation of finally feeling included in your life. — … Multiple times that they despised the cold weather Gotham always seems to have. Eth Alth'eban is always hot.

— We are not joining those fuckers, and you shut down that idea before I start believing what that old man said about you and kick your ass into your grave, demon brat. — Damian kept stoic after Jason's response.

— We could use the League for something good for once. I could. As the Head of the Demon. — He retorted with confidence.

Dick shook his head in disbelief.

— Dami, I think that's too much. It would only prove what Bruce was trying to say. — Damian leaned forward, as if getting closer would make his point come across as more genuine.

— I could do it! Not as a dictator like my grandfather! But as something actually good! Not just for us, but for everyone! The whole world!

— Does that megalomaniac plan of yours have an actual strategy? — Damian rolled his eyes.

— Of course it has. Kill anyone who gets in the way of my rightful place at birth. — Damian tilted his head at Tim, who looked at him in disbelief.

— Even Ras? — Damian frowned. What a dumb question. Damian would do anything for you.

— Especially Ras. — A fist hit the table and the oldest got up with a scowl in his face.

— No one. Is going to kill. Anyone. And we are not going to use the League. — Damian got up too.

— What is stopping you? This is for (Y/N)! It is not just some fucking petty act to annoy father. He acted behind our backs and he will take my beloved from me! From us!

— We don't know that yet! — Even with Dick's exclamation, it was clear not even him was totally sure about Bruce's intentions.

— … Failing to prepare is preparing to fail. — Tim muttered. They all observed he had a distant look on his face, it was the look he had when he was planning something. After a few seconds, he looked up again and got up, facing Damian. — I'm with you. It’ll be nice to see Ras look when he realizes he lost to me one last time. And to have whole guardianship of my spleen he keeps on his bedside table again.

— What? — The other three sputtered.

— I won't kill anyone. But I will help you and be an ally. Even if that means losing the Titans and leaving behind everything I build here. All for (Y/N). — Tim spoke. Jason got up.

— Tim, you can't be serious too. — He received a glare in return.

— I am. You're invited to join us. Or to become our enemy.

Damian was staring at Tim, the brother he always had a strange relationship with, full of fights and sarcasm, but they always knew they could count on each other in the end. Because they were family.

Of course, it would be nicer to have you all to himself, but he also needed more allies, and brilliant minds like his own. It would also hurt to lose every person he loved while choosing you, even if he would always choose you in the end.

— … What if (Y/N) doesn't trust us after this? — Dick mumbled, trying to see both sides before making a decision.

— We’ll explain to them. About how we got rid of every single individual who wanted to isolate and steal them from us. How we want to care for them. Keep them safe. And how I- We, made the world a better place in the process. — Dick glared at him halfheartedly.

— We have a solid plan here, Dick. We Just have to form our strategies based on what we have. It will work!

Dick sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. He started walking around the apartment, contemplating, listening in on your apartment and Tim and Damian in the background, trying to convince Jason.

When even Jason seemed convinced, Dick knew what he had to do.

Everyone turned to him when he came back to the table again, in expectation.

He looked Damian in the eyes and put his hand on his little brother's shoulders. So grown. So different from what he was before meeting you. You brought the worst out of him. Out of all of them. And you didn't even know it. That was the worse part.

But Dick was always known for being a manipulator.

— Congratulations, you're the new Demon's Head.

Extra note: I'm curious to if you guys think Bruce was actually planning something and not just being regular canon Batman putting his morals above family👀

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You wiped the sleeve of your hoodie against your cheek. The fabric was stained with your tears and remnants of makeup. You were sure that you had raccoon eyes from your mascara running down your cheeks, but did you care? No. Not when just a little under an hour ago you found your fiancée (now ex fiancee) balls deep inside your (now ex-best friend) How could they do this to you? How could he do this to you? You had just sent out the fucking wedding invitations last month. The venue was booked, and you already had your dream dress bought and stored safely in your closet.

Now none of that mattered as you nursed a cheap bottle of wine along the steps outside of your home. You didn’t hesitate to dial Dieter’s number in your moment of need. You had memorized it by heart, and despite the years that had passed with no communication, you were able to swallow what was left of your pride and call him. The dial tone rang, and rang, and rang, and just when you were about to hang up, Dieter picked up.

“Sweet Tart? To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing your number pop up on my screen?” Dieter spoke softly into the receiver.

“Dee..he—he cheated on me.” You spoke just above a whisper.

“Who did? Your fiancée? What’s the fucker’s name again? Eric? Fucking tool. Always was a prick back in highschool. Sweet Tart, I’m so sorry, my dear. Are you okay? Where are you?”

“He cheated on me with Melanie. I caught them in our bed. I got home from my meeting early and we—we were supposed to go out to dinner. I’m outside on the front steps of my home in San Francisco. That’s where I live now.” You sniffled and took another swig from the bottle of wine clutched in your fist.

“Mel? Wow. Always knew that one was a cunty little slut but I never would have thought that she would stoop that low.” He tsked disapprovingly under his breath. “San Fran huh? Well, why don’t ya leave and come back on over the bridge to Los Angeles. Leave that life behind and let those two assholes have each other. You could pawn the ring and burn all of the fucker’s pictures.”

You were full on sobbing now as the realization crashed down over you that your life had now drastically changed and it was no longer picture perfect on the outside. Tears were blurring your vision as you struggled to regain your shattered composure. “Dieter, I can’t just—I can’t just leave. I love my home and my job and there’s—there’s nothing for me in LA.”

“Oh, Sweet Tart. I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to make you cry. What do you mean there’s nothing for you in LA? Babe, I’m still here. Well, I live in the Hollywood Hills now but you’re more than welcome to come and visit, ‘kay?”

You pressed the rim of the wine bottle against your temple as you questioned why you called Dieter in the first place. Was it just the wine in your system talking? Did you miss your best friend that terribly, that you had no one else you could possibly call?

“Dieter, I appreciate your offer, but I can’t just leave my fucking life behind like you can.” Your tone was bitter and your words were harsh. You didn’t mean to snap at him, not really. You were just hurt and frustrated and overwhelmed. Everytime you closed your eyes you saw your ex fiancée drilling into your ex best friend in your fucking bed and it was all too fucking much.

“Sweet Tart, why did you just have to go and be so fucking mean, huh? I was just trying to make you feel better. You’re the one that called me. Go sob to someone else if you’re gonna be that way. I thought after 16 years you would have dropped that fucking ridiculous grudge that you’ve been holding against me. Here I thought that maybe my best fucking friend was just calling me because she missed me! Guess not, huh? Guess I was wrong again. I’m sorry that your fiancée cheated on you. He’s a rotten son of a bitch that clearly has no idea what he’s got. I’m even more sorry that your so-called best friend betrayed you like that too. The world fucking sucks sometimes, Sweet Tart. It chews you up and then fucking spits you back out. You’re not the first one to be cheated on like this and you won’t be the last. You wanna wallow away in self pity, and stay in that house and keep working that mediocre job? Be my fucking guest. Don’t call me crying, and then get upset when I tell you how you can fucking fix it.”

Fuck

“Dieter, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said, you know that right? I’m just hurt and angry and fucking overwhelmed! I know I shouldn’t have gone and taken that out on you. It’s been 16 years and I have no reason to hold anything against you.”

“No. You meant what you said. C’mon, Sweet Tart. You’re a big girl. Stand behind your fucking words.” The pads of his fingers pressed deeply into his temples as he sighed. He didn’t want to admit that your words really fucking hurt. They sliced right through him and obliterated his already pathetic heart.

“Listen, my offer still stands. I’ll text you my address, and if you want to come and visit, you’re more than welcome to. Just don’t go and leak it anywhere alright? You should maybe go and get a hotel room for the night or something. I wouldn’t want to sleep in my bed after all that but that’s just me. I’ll see how you’re feeling tomorrow morning, Goodnight, Sweet Tart.” Dieter didn’t wait for you to answer. He just went ahead and hung up the phone before tossing it on his towel that was resting on the pool chair.

“Dieter—Dieter?” You finished off the bottle as you struggled to pull yourself up to your feet. You could go and get a hotel room with no problem. Instead you found yourself going back inside of your home and plopping face first onto the couch.

Dieter reached for the abandoned joint that was left simmering on the edge of the heart shaped ashtray that had a Chanel logo in the middle of the vessel. He plucked the joint up between two fingers before placing it between his lips. His eyes fluttered shut as he took a long deep drag of the herb, holding the smoke in his lungs before exhaling it upwards towards the star painted sky. He reached for his phone and unlocked it with a couple taps on the screen. He opened the iMessage app and scrolled till he found your name. A moment of hesitation washed over him as he typed in his address. The hesitation he felt was soon erased as he hit send before tossing his phone to the side once more.

“She probably won’t come to see you. I wouldn’t get your hopes up.” Dieter spoke to himself through the dry California air. “On the off chance that she does show up..what am I to do then?”

He scratched at his patchy beard with a huff. The joint he was presently smoking was almost completely gone as he tapped a blur of ash into the tray. “Help her get over her stupid fucking excuse of an ex-fiancée.” He muttered as if the answer was painfully obvious.

Your phone thrummed along the coffee table, and even in your grief and drunken stupor, you knew it was your Dieter.

When you awoke the following morning you could barely open your eyes due to the residue of mascara causing your lashes to stick together as if there was glue on them.

You let out a frustrated huff and rubbed your knuckles against your eyes to loosen up the clumps of mascara.

Then, that dull pulsing pain in your skull began to breach the surface. Fucking cheap-ass-wine hangover.

You struggled to pull yourself up into a sitting position, squeezing your eyes shut when you felt a particular sharp pain. “I am never drinking again.” Something that every adult has probably said a handful of times in their life.

Once your eyes were well adjusted to the early morning light trickling in through the curtains, you forced yourself to get up, snatching your phone up from the coffee table as you headed straight for the kitchen; coffee was needed if you were to make it through the day.

While your coffee was brewing and you were greeted with the familiar drips falling into the coffee pot, you remembered your conversation with Dieter last night, and the things that you both said. Holding a grudge against your best friend..was not a smart move, but it wasn’t like you meant it. Not really, you were just frustrated and hurt, and people say shit they don’t mean when they’re upset all the time.

Your phone buzzing in your palm tore you away from your thoughts and then you saw Dieter's name flash on your screen, and your heart skipped a beat.

Hey, Sweet Tart, I apologize if I was mean to you last night. I know you’re just pissed off at that stupid fucking ex fiancée of yours. Anyway, let me know if you’re planning on visiting soon. I’d love to see you. Gets pretty lonely up here in the hills. It would be nice to see a familiar face.

Dieter sent you the text message after he had fixed himself a screwdriver cocktail with extra vodka to get his day started off on a happy note. Beverly was out of the country, filming for her next project, so Dieter was left alone to his own devices, naturally.

And what’s an actor, such as himself, to do in such an obnoxiously massive house tucked away from the public eye in the Hollywood Hills? Prance around in nothing but a silk robe, and stupidly expensive Chanel sunglasses. His music of choice for the morning was Queen’s, I Want To Break Free.

He had a perfectly rolled joint tucked behind his ear in a light pink rolling paper. He brought the rim of his glass to his lips and took a sweet indulgent sip, before he spun around on his heel to the rhythm of the music. His softened cock swung freely between his soft thighs.

Dieter was never shy of his sexual appetites, and those he wished to partake in them with. He’d never actually put a label on himself, but if the question ever arose, he’d proclaim himself a proud bisexual.

“It’s gonna be a good day, Bravo.” He hummed to himself and reached up for the joint tucked behind his ear. “It’s gonna be a good day indeed.” He reached for his lighter across the expanse of the counter top. He sparked the joint up, taking a long drag with his eyes softly shut in a relaxed blissful state.

They snapped open at the pleasant chime of heels clacking along polished tile. His maid, who he had been fucking with and without Beverly in the mix, was leaned against the entry way of the kitchen, clad in nothing but a garter belt and Louboutin heels that he purchased for her.

“Good morning , Mr. Bravo.” She purred through her pretty painted lips.

He drank in her attire (or lack thereof), her supple, luscious curves with a lazy grin plastered on his scruffy face. The joint dipped down between his lips while he admired her a bit longer, eyes raking down her body in a lustful gaze.

“Good Morning to me indeed, wowza.” He whistled. “Can I get a spin from ya, baby doll? Are those the pretty heels I got you? You’re absolutely rocking them, my dear.”

She giggled, soft and sweet. The heat rose to her cheeks from the compliment he bestowed upon her. “They are, sir. I think they’re quite pretty too.” She gave him a little spin, twirling around like a ballerina.

He pushed himself off the side of the counter in a very Dieter like fashion. His cock had begun to harden, coming to life at the sight of the beauty that confidently stood before him. “Beautiful.” He whispered, “just absolutely breathtaking.” He swooped in, hand finding purchase around the thick flesh of the curves on her ass. “I have to go for my morning swim, but after…” he trailed off with that knowing glint in his eye.

She dragged a perfectly manicured nail down the clavicle of his chest, swirling it around one of his nipples, the right one that was pierced with a shiny nipple ring through the middle. Her lips pouted like two rose petals, lashes fluttering in a flirtatious manner, “are you sure that your swim can’t wait a little longer, Dieter?” She cooed softly.

With his hand still clasped around his glass of vodka with a sprinkle of orange juice, he pressed his thumb down against her pretty pouty lips. The joint still pursed between his lips, blazing red-hot. “I’m sorry, pet. I promised Jackie I’d start every morning off with a relaxing swim. It keeps me from wanting to put the ‘bad’ stuff into my body.” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Your agent is no fun, Dieter. I think she could use a little to loosen up..” she trailed off, letting her nail drag lower, and lower till she swirled it through the coarse, dark hair that sprouted up from beneath his pubic bone. His neglected cock twitched with that aching need, but he was trying to be good.

“She really could loosen up, doll face. I agree. But..I can’t go back on my promises.” He sighed rather dramatically while he kneaded the flesh of her ass between his thick ring clad fingers that glimmered under the patch of sunlight trickling in through the skylight on the high ceilings above their heads.

Just when his pretty faced maid was about to drag her nail across the weeping head of his cock, he declined because he really was trying to be good. “I promise, after my swim, I’m all yours.”

Dieters routine swim didn’t last as long as he planned it too..but to be fair, it was hard to turn down good pussy that was practically being served to him on a fucking silver platter. His naughty maid had laid herself out on one of his pool chairs, thighs spread wide for his view while her painted nails played with herself, dragging through the mess of arousal that leaked out for him. She kept her red bottoms on because she really did feel pretty in them, and she was grateful that Dieter was the type of celebrity to share his wealth with everyone.

Dieter found himself fixated on the spot between her thighs, glistening, pulsing under the rising hot California sun. He licked his lips, pupils darkening while he pulled himself out of the pool.

He feasted upon her sweetness, her taste. He lapped between her folds, dragging his tongue across her needy clit in long, languid strokes that had her throwing her head back in ecstasy. His hands were anchored under the thick flesh of her ass, keeping her spread wide open just how he liked it. The tip of his tongue swirled in a figure 8 motion that had his naughty maid crying out his name in no-time

Dieter. Dieter. Dieter.

His first meal of the day was one that left him feeling full, and satisfied. The scruff of his beard glistened in her release when he came up for a quick breath of air. “Naughty thing you are, doll face. Spread wide open for all of the Hollywood Hills to see?” He gave her left ass cheek a playful swat before his fingers dug in once more. “Naughty.” Another swat, a playful nip to her inner thigh. “Naughty.” Devious eyes peering up between her silken cunt, “Naughty” a whisper of warm breath that kissed her skin the way that rain does.

He was about to dive right back in, when his phone blared loudly on the poolside table. He grumbled from the disturbance before he pressed a chaste kit to her swollen clit. He sat up with a huff, running his fingers through his damp head of curls, and reached over her to grab his phone.

When he saw your name light up on his screen, he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face, or the way his heart did a fucking somersault in his ribcage. “Sweet Tart is calling, you gonna be a good naughty maid and suck my cock while I take this call?” His brow raised suggestively in her direction, cinnamon brown eyes flickering with unabashed mischief.

His naughty maid was already sitting up on her knees along the pool chair, crawling towards him while he wrapped his hand around the base of his cock. He twisted his wrist in a languid, corkscrew motion, while his unoccupied hand swiped across the call button on the screen.

“Sweet Tart, how are you feeling this morning? I gotta say, I’m surprised that you called.” A hum nearly crawled up the back of his throat when his maid wrapped her pretty painted lips around the head of his cock. He threaded his fingers through her hair, gently holding her head. His ring clad fingers glistened under the blazing sun when she began to slowly bob her head.

“Hey, Dee. I feel like shit.” You laughed softly through the receiver, biting down gently on the tip of your thumbnail. “I’m sorry..for how I treated you last night.”

Dieter allowed himself to take one shuddered breath when he felt the tip of his cock kiss the back of his maids throat. The little gagging noise she made sent his eyes rolling back into his skull. “How come you feel like shit, Sweet Tart? It's okay. I know you didn’t mean what you said. You were just upset, and understandably so.” He glanced down at his maid, and in a praising motion he mouthed, good girl.

“Too much shitty cheap wine. My head is pounding out of my skull right now. Nothing a cup of coffee can’t fix, huh?” You sighed, leaning back against the countertop. “I know, Dee, but you’re my best friend. I shouldn’t hold a grudge against you just because we’ve barely spoken in sixteen years. It’s not fair to you.”

“Well, that’ll do it. But you know the best cure to a hangover is to keep drinking, Sweet Tart. You really don’t have to apologize, okay? All is forgiven. I’m not going to hold a grudge either.” He paused, thinking over his next choice of words carefully. “Have you given any more thought to my offer? It still stands, and I’d love to see my best friend again.”

He took his lower lip harshly between his teeth when he felt his cock twitch in his maids mouth. It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to hold back a groan from bubbling over. He made the executive decision to pull himself out of her wet mouth with a soft pop. He used his chin to press his phone against his shoulder so that his hands were free to mold his naughty, and very eager maid in the position he wished to fuck her in. His hands wrapped around the outside of her thighs as he gradually pressed her knees towards her chest.

“I won’t apologize for it again, Dee. I promise. I thought about your offer, and I’ll gladly take you up on it. I have some work I need to finish up..but I was thinking of driving over Friday? Does that work with your schedule?”

Dieter dragged the tip of his cock through her slick folds, rolling his hips forward slowly, catching her clit along the head of his cock. “Oh, Friday sounds perfect to me, Sweet Tart. I can always send a car over for ya if you’d like?”

An extremely light hiss slipped past his parted lips when he finally began to sink into her warmth, loving the way that her pussy pulled him in, inch by inch till he was bottomed out, hips pressed tight to her ass.

That’s it, beautiful. He mouthed to her.

“Oh, that’s okay, Dee. I don’t mind driving myself. But that’s kind of you to offer.”

Dieter hummed through the receiver while he dropped his hand to rest along her hip, ogling at the where their bodies were connected. He drooled a glob of saliva right between the space and used the pad of his thumb to rub it against her clit in tight circles.

“Listen, Sweet Tart, I’d love to keep chatting, but I got a call on the other line. I can’t wait to see you Friday. Let me know when you’re on your way, ‘kay?” His voice was raspier now, deeper, and even a little strained. He thrusted his hips forward, falling into a steady rhythm that had both him and his maid feeling satisfied for the moment.

“I understand, Dee. I should probably take a shower and make myself look presentable. Anyway, I can’t wait to see you as well. I hope you have a good rest of your morning.”

He suppressed a growl, doing everything he possibly could do to not give himself away. “You too, Sweet Tart.” He ended the call in a haste, tossing it to the side, not caring if it fell to the ground and shattered. He grabbed her wrists in his freehand, pressing them above her head in one swooping motion.

“Who’s Sweet Tart?” His maid couldn’t help but ask. It was an innocent question of course. There was no harm behind it. She met his thrusts midway with a gentle roll of her hips into his. A free falling moan slipped past her painted lips. Dieter swallowed it, tongue and all while he pried her thighs apart so he could squeeze himself between them.

“My best friend.” He mumbled into her lips. He continued to strum her clit with his thumb, picking up the pace with his calculated strokes. “She’s coming to visit me this weekend. Haven’t seen her in sixteen years.” He grunted low and deep, dropping his forehead to hers.

She whined beneath him, wrapping her ankles around his hips to draw him in even deeper. “Fuck, Dieter. Your cock is so—”

“Big?” He chuckled in a cocky tone, pulling his hips back slightly before slamming them forward. “I know it is, doll face.” “And your pussy? It’s fucking tight. Silky, warm. So glad you kept the heels on, baby. Y’look so goddamn pretty in them.”

And then, of course when they were both on the edge of an impending orgasm, his goddamn phone rang again, but this time it was Jackie, and she’d have his head if he ignored her call.

Frustrated, and unintentionally edging himself, Dieter reached for his phone, answering it with an anger grumbled breath. “For fuck sakes, Jackie. I’M BUSY!” He snapped through the receiver, not caring if he would get chastised for it. He hated being interrupted when he was on the verge of coming.

“Well, good morning to you too, Bravo.” She snickered on the other end.

“This better be fucking important, or I swear to god.” In the same breath he whispered to his maid to get on all fours. He slipped out of her wet, hugging warmth, impatiently.

“Just wanted to check in and make sure you got your laps in today. Oh, and don’t forget, you have dinner with Nicolas Cage tonight at seven. Do not be late.”

Dieter fought the urge to roll his eyes because goddammit, Jackie, this couldn’t wait??

“Yeah, yeah. I got my laps in alright. And I was absolutely enjoying the fabulous sunshine, and being balls deep inside of my gorgeous maid when you oh so rudely interrupted us!” His tone was clipped and cold. He gave his cock a few quick tugs before he lined himself at her entrance, notching his tip between the seam of her pussy and slipped right back in. He gave her ass a firm smack!

“Dear god, Dieter. That is information that I definitely did not need to know.” He could already picture Jackie rubbing her temples, and shaking her head.

“Yeah?” He grunted deeply, and placed his hand against the curve of her spine, pressing her down further into the pool chair. She arched her back towards him, letting out a string of profanities when the tip of his cock reached that spongy spot inside of her deliciously. “Well, maybe don’t call me before nine a.m next time!”

“Dieter..it’s nine-thirty right now.”

He threw his head back frustratingly. “Oh my fucking god! Jackie, can I just call you back?!”

“Sure, Mr. Grumpy pants.”

He muttered a fuck off before he tossed his phone completely out of reach. It miraculously landed on one of the nearby pool chairs. (He couldn’t fathom having to get another phone)

He was kind enough to come on his maids back, painting her in hot ropes of his release. He tasted himself along her skin, dragging his tongue slowly through his come. He wrapped his fist through her hair, gently tugging her head back so that he could give her a proper kiss, and so she could have a taste as well.

He slipped out of her slowly, feeling somewhat satisfied, but his agent calling him really soured his mood. It was written all over his face.

“Dieter?..” She asked him while he was using a pool towel to wipe his come from her back, and between her thighs.

“Yeah, doll face?” He met her gaze, pursing his lips, feeling his shoulders sink forwards because he knew he didn’t do his job to the best of his abilities.

“Do you think you can?…” she trailed off.

“Of course I can. Hold that thought, ‘kay? Let me go grab something inside.”

He pressed a light kiss to her hip bone before he pushed himself up from the chair and sauntered back inside. He stopped in the kitchen for a couple quick puffs, before he continued on his mission. He felt slightly embarrassed, and a little angry that he didn’t do enough to make her come. He always had been a huge people pleaser, especially when it came to pleasing his sexual lovers.

He shook that gnawing feeling of shame off his shoulders for now. He dug out his box of sex toys from their home in his walk-in closet; There wasn’t anything that his Hitachi wand couldn’t do.

And so he fucked her again, this time with no interruptions, and with the wand placed directly against her clit, it sent rapid vibrations through both of their connected bodies. It was a bonus that he got a second orgasm out of it as well.

In no time they were both a sweaty mess of tangled limbs with Dieter’s scruffy cheek pressed comfortably against one of her pillowy tits, lashes shut, breaths coming out in hot, quick pants. He pressed a chaste kiss to her clavicle before he pushed himself up on his elbows. “Let’s get ourselves cleaned up, shall we, doll face? Then I’m gonna cook us some well deserved breakfast.” He hummed.

She nodded blissfully, tangling her fingers through his messy head of curls. “Clean me up with your tongue, please?” She gestured with a cocked brow to the sticky, drooling mess between their still connected bodies.

With a lopsided, sex stained grin, the actor nodded with absolute enthusiasm. In a haste he slipped out with a soft, wet, squelching noise. The wand was tossed to the side, and his tongue delved between the seam of her pussy once more.

He loved to please.

It was approximately two hours before Dieter would be meeting Nicolas Cage for dinner, and the nerves were already beginning to tingle and bubble. The itch was building, crawling up his spine, but he was trying to be good. So, he’d have to relieve his impending anxiety in another way.

Dieter’s Dom frequently visited on the occasions when the actor needed him most. And right now, Dieter needed to clear his head desperately.

Dieter was in the shower, letting the scalding spray of water ease the strain in his back when the bathroom door creaked open. His eyes were closed as he felt the blood begin to rush to his cock in anticipated excitement. As much as the actor loved to fuck, he equally enjoyed being fucked as well.

His hand dropped down between his thighs, thumb stroking across the head of his cock. He was already imagining himself being split in two, right down the middle, while being called a good boy, when he heard the clink of a belt, and fabric dropping to the tile floor with a soft thump.

He rolled his shoulders forward, taking his lower lip between his teeth when he felt the presence of a rock solid body behind him, a strong arm wrapped around his middle yanking him back swiftly. His head lolled to the side, dropping against the man’s shoulder. He pumped his fist around himself a few times, feeling the heavy press of the man’s cock against his ass.

“Hey, pretty boy. Y’called?” The man’s voice was deep, lax, rumbling and low against the shell of Dieter’s ear.

“Mhmmm. Hiii.” Dieter whimpered with his lower lip still trapped between his teeth. His back arched, molding into the man’s hard chest and taut stomach. “We gotta make this quick, ‘kay? Got an important dinner tonight with Nicolas Cage.”

“Mmm.” The man hummed against Dieter’s ear, nipping at the lobe with his teeth. “That’s nice, baby boy. We can make this fast, sure. How about you bend over a lil’ for me and spread your cheeks.” He commanded firmly.

Dieter's cock twitched pathetically in his hand from just the man’s voice alone. “Mhmm, daddy. That’s the one. It’s a big deal for my career. M’so excited..” he trailed off while he released his cock from his grasp. He slowly bent over, reaching behind him and placed his ring clad fingers on both cheeks, spreading them apart. He could feel the man’s hot gaze drifting downwards.

“Always such a good little cockslut for me, baby boy. You’ll have to tell me all about your little dinner with Nicolas Cage next time..” he purred, placing his hand against the actor's lower back, pressing him forward while he grabbed a hold of his own cock in his fist. He gave his wrist a few twists, spitting right on the head of his cock before he notched the head between Dieter’s spread cheeks. “Y’ready for me, baby boy?”

“Mhmm. Please fuck me, daddy.” He dropped one hand from his ass to steady himself against the cool tile. He pressed himself back against the man’s cock, inch by inch till he was fully seated on it.

An exchange of deep grunts followed by the man’s hand making harsh contact with Dieter’s left ass cheek. He lurched forward, both from the fullness he was feeling, and the sting along his skin. “Fuck yourself on it, baby boy. Let’s see you do all the work yourself.” He growled.

Dieter remembers the first time he gave into his sexual desires with another man. The first time he sucked a cock with tears rolling down his cheeks, and drool dripping down his chin while he sat prettily on his knees. He remembers the first time he kissed a man, dragged his fingers through a man’s happy trail, left lovebites, and felt the pleasant scrape of another man’s beard against his thighs. He remembers the first time he felt the stretch of a cock, the slap of a man’s balls against him, and he loved it.

“Y—yes, daddy. Whatever you want.” He stuttered out, knees nearly buckling as he rolled his hips and ass back in a circular motion, fucking himself along the man’s cock like the good boy he was.

“That’s it, good boy. Such a good boy fucking yourself on my cock.” He praised the actor while he kneaded the soft flesh of his ass between his thick fingers. He met his thrusts halfway.

“Daddy, I—I—need more. Please. Please.” Dieter begged.

“What do you need, baby boy? Need me to take over already?” The man chuckled, giving his ass another firm smack.

“Mhmmm. Please, daddy. I need you to split me in half, please. Fuck me stupid, big boy.”

That’s all it took for his Dom to give in, and Dieter was seeing stars dancing behind his closed eyes as his Dom yanked him back up against his chest, arm possessively wrapped around his middle, and his hand splayed against Dieter’s throat. He fucked into him at a punishing pace, wet skin slapping against wet skin.

“Fuck, daddy! Y—yess! S—so good to me! Hnngh. Thank you! Thank you.” He cried out, hand wrapping around the base of his cock once more. “Tell me you love me, daddy. Tell your baby boy that you love him.” He groaned deeply, feeling himself already begin to fall apart.

“Daddy loves you, baby boy. He loves you, and this tight fucking ass.” The man grunted against his ear, hot breath kissing his skin.

It didn’t take long for Dieter to hit his crashing orgasm, fist pumping wildly around his cock as he coated the ridiculously expensive shower wall in thick, hot ropes of his come.

On the drive over to the restaurant that Dieter would be meeting Nicolas Cage at, he felt relaxed, confident, and in character. Dieter would always pretend to be anyone but himself when he’d meet new actors, business partners, and the likes of Hollywood. It was as if he had a switch that he could just turn on at random, and when needed. Landing this role would be a huge deal for the actor, and there was no room for him to screw the pooch on this one.

I’m Dieter Fucking Bravo, and I can do anything.

This was his ritual mantra.

He remembered then that he needed to call Jackie, and let her know that he was on his way, and that he needed her to clear his schedule for the upcoming weekend.

“Are we less grumpy than we were this morning, Dieter?” She asked through the smooth sounding speakers in his car.

Dieter thrummed his fingers against the sleek leather steering wheel of his jet black, Aston Martin DB5.

His car was his baby, and his first official ‘big boy’ purchase after becoming an actor.

“Not an ounce of grumpiness in me, Jackie. I’m on my way to the restaurant as we speak.” He said smoothly.

“Oh, good! I spoke with Nick’s agent, and I don’t want you to start celebrating yet, but there is a high chance that you’re going to be co-starring in his next film.”

Dieter perked up from her words, trying to hide the smile that was threatening to spill over his face. “Really? You’re serious about that?”

“As serious as they come, kid. But hey, don’t blow this one alright? I think you’re the perfect fit for the role, personally.”

“Pssh. Me? Blow this? Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen! Especially in front of Nicolas Cage! I’d rather step on a nail, or remain abstinent for the rest of my life.” He chuckled.

“Oh, that’s a good one, Bravo. I almost believed you there.” She laughed, and he could picture her shaking her head.

“Jackie? Do you think you can do me a favor and clear my schedule for me this weekend? I have important plans that I can’t miss.”

“Oh? And what is the occasion for these important plans of yours?”

Dieter scratched at the patches between his beard as he rolled his shoulders forward before he leaned back against the crisp leather seat. A smile tugged across his lips, and his heart began to race at the thought of you, his Sweet Tart coming to see him.

“Sweet Tart is coming into town Friday. We're finally gonna reunite after all of these years apart.”

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