Anymore
Dieter Bravo x F!reader 18+
if I know you in real life don't read this...
Each day without her gets harder, each night without him gets colder. Aka Dieter loves you and shoots his shot at some late night sexting
Warnings: sexting, needy Dieter, needy reader, feelings, unhealthy but not toxic relationship, long distance smut...but still smut (nothing super graphic) if you want me to add anything else let me know
Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist
This is based on the song Demi Moore by Pheobe Bridgers:
Listen here || Dieter Bravo playlist || Pedro Character Masterlist
Take a dirty picture babe. I can't sleep and I miss your face
That is what the text says. But what he means to say is, please tell me you're awake. I think I'm losing my mind in this hotel thousands of miles away from you and I know I'm a mess but I love you. Please don't leave me.
It’s not too long before his phone lights up with her response; a single photo.
Her standing in front of the floor-length mirror that leans against the wall of their bedroom. She’s wearing a tank top with no bra under it and a pair of cute panties. Not lingerie by any means, but god she’s stunning. He zooms in, greedily taking in every detail of the image. Everything about her, from her exposed thighs to the sliver of her tummy where her shirt has ridden up to the way she tilts her head just enough that he can see through her reflection that she’s biting her lip makes his grip tighten on the phone, wanting nothing more than to feel her skin against his own. It’s been too long. He wonders if he woke her up, his heart clenching at the crumpled bedsheets he can see on the bed behind her. His phone buzzes with a follow-up text. He lets out an audible moan.
Tell me what you want to do to me.
That is what the text says. But what she means to say is, I miss you, tell me you still need me. This bed is cold without you. Tell me you’re coming home soon. I know I can be needy, but I love you. Tell me you love me too.
She slips back into bed only half covered by the duvet as she curls herself around the stack of pillows from his side of the bed, passively hoping they might still smell like his cologne. She watches her phone waiting for his reply. Was she too much? Maybe he just wanted the picture? Maybe he passed out? She overthinks. Her eyes drift shut as her phone screen dims to black. Her phone vibrates her screen lighting up with a photo of Dieter lounging in the pool in their backyard.
“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” his voice is slightly muffled through the speaker, but still somehow, as soft and as gentle as it was when he was next to her, and not an ocean away.
“Tell me what you’ll do. Please,” She sighs, wishing more than ever that she could touch him.
There's some rustling on the other line followed by a low pitched groan, “I’ve been thinking about that trip we took to Spain--the hotel room with the wall of mirrors”.
She can’t help but cast her gaze to the mirror across from the bed, her eyes meeting her own sends a shiver up her spine.
“Do you remember that baby?” He speaks again.
She swallows hard, tearing her eyes away from the mirror, “Yes”.
Yes. she remembers. How could she not? The two weeks of nothing but relaxation; both of them had shut their phones off choosing to spend their time together without distraction. The days they hadn’t spent sleeping in, drinking wine, taking naps in the afternoon sun, or swimming in the ocean were spent in their suite. He’d made good on his promise to take her on every surface in the room (more than once). Memories of their last night there fill her head as her hand makes its way beneath the waistband of her underwear. She remembers her back to his chest, her head tipped back against his shoulder, watching in the mirror as he whispered filth in her ear, the two of them falling apart more times than she could count.
“Are you thinking about it now, pretty girl?”
A whimper in the form of a “yes,” passes through her lips.
“Fuck, I miss you”.
“Miss you too, Dieter,” she all but whines.
“Can you see yourself in the mirror baby?” He asks, voice low.
She nods, before the realization he can't see her hits, “I can,” she sighs, her eyes once again catching her own in the mirror.
He tries to picture her, sprawled in their bed, hand between her legs. Each gasp and moan makes him feel like he's on fire, his body buzzing with the need to be with her. Think of me, remember me, don’t forget about me, he silently pleads. His desperation claws at him, settling heavily in his chest; hollow and empty and begging for love.
He moans feeling himself getting closer to the edge, “want you to cum for me”.
She doesn’t reply, but he listens intently to her breathy gasps and cries. A broken cry of his name has him finishing unceremoniously in his hand and across his stomach. The loneliness lingers, and the emptiness remains.
When she catches her breath again she lays in silence staring up at the ceiling, begging for the tears to leave her eyes. She stretches out her arms feeling the unsympathetic chill of the untouched half of the bed. And she laughs. She laughs hard than she has in ages. Come home, I love you, don’t leave me, her mind cycles, but she laughs. Her heart races in her chest as she thinks of a million things to say to him, but she can’t get a single one of them past her lips.
“I can’t breathe Dieter,” she tells him, her laughter giving way to the tears she’d been holding back.
“I can’t sleep,” he says, “I don’t want to be stoned like this anymore. I still miss you”.
And so they sit in silence.
“The sun is coming up,” she whispers.
“Sleep,” he says.
“Don’t want to be alone,” she confesses smushing her face back into his pillow.
“I feel good about this project. I didn’t think it would take so long though”.
“I know, Dieter,” she smiles, her eyes fluttering shut, “love you”.
He takes a deep breath, choking back his own tears, “Love you”.
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