#dieter bravo meet cute

[midgardianminx]

Art Walk

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x reader (reader’s gender not explicitly stated/no use of pronouns). 

Summary: A Dieter Bravo (artist AU?) meet cute. Is that what this is?

Rating: M (18+) - while this fic is not explicit, this blog is. Minors be gone.

Notes: Hi. I was really down about my unused theatre degree when I wrote this, and needed a little Dieter comfort. This is self-indulgent and all mistakes are my own. Enjoy!                                                        

Cross-posted on AO3

It had been years since you’d ventured out to an art walk. Not because you didn’t love them, but because you felt like a fraud at this point. You’d graduated with your art degree nearly a decade ago and had nothing to show for it. You had been sucked into the “stability” of corporate America (what a joke that was) and have slowly been having your happiness and creativity drained since.

You’d stumbled on it accidentally. You were going to grab takeout from your favorite hole in the wall downtown. Parking seemed to be harder than usual and the streets were more busy. As you approached your destination you noticed the packed alleyway. Vender tables lined the street and people were milling about in every direction looking at the different trinkets and knick-knacks. Drawn like a moth to a flame, you began to wander down the alleyway, completely abandoning your initial mission for food.

It felt like a fever dream. Everywhere you looked you saw artists pouring their soul into their work. Chalk art decorated the street. A graffiti artist was bringing a crumbling wall back to life. You ventured into a small studio space filled with art on the gallery walls. People gathered in a crowd to take in the performance art happening before your eyes.

As the crowd dispersed, you finally felt like you could catch your breath and something inside you came to life.

- - -

He took notice of you immediately. He was pulling out the uneven cut of burlap that would act as his canvas when he first spotted you. You were impossible to ignore. You took in your surroundings as if your life depended on it; as if everything would disappear if you blinked. And although your stare seemed distant and almost unfocused, he could see something come to life the longer you looked around. You disappeared into a small art gallery, but even with you out of sight, he couldn’t forget that look in your eye.

- - -

You left the small gallery and found yourself back in the alley. The streetlights had turned on in the time you had been inside and your body felt a steady buzz of excitement. The sound of a band caught your attention and you wandered in that direction hoping to find the source and taking the opportunity to take in more of the art booths along your path.

You didn’t reach your destination, never finding the source of the music. Instead you were stopped in your tracks by the sight in front of you. His curls were a mess on top of his head. His shirt and pants hung loose and comfortably on his frame. You didn’t even question the Crocs because they seemed so right for him.

Your feet were taking you to his space before your brain could even catch up. It was as if there was an invisible string attached to your core and you were helpless to fight against the pull. You finally managed to take your eyes off the artist and caught sight of the wrinkled canvas he was working on.

It took your breath away. You stood in awe as you took in the piece of art that wasn’t even completed but was already perfect in your eyes.

It was the alley, but not in a literal sense. You couldn’t explain it, but it was as if the artist had climbed inside your mind and witnessed what you saw felt when you first stumbled upon this place. You imagined that to others it may just appear to be a collection of shadows accompanied by bright colors. Abstract. Others would see it as abstract, but for you it was clear as day. It was this alleyway on this night.

You were so transfixed by the piece that you hadn’t even noticed the artist had stopped painting and was now focused on you. After a few moments he cleared his throat which snapped you out of your trance. Heat began to creep up your neck to your face, and you didn’t know if it was because you had been caught staring at his work or because now that you could see him fully you were taken aback by his beauty. That’s the only way you could explain it. Beauty. Maybe not in the traditional sense, but beauty nonetheless. His curls were tousled and loose, as if his fingers had been raking through them. His face was warm; decorated with scruffy facial hair and laugh lines that hinted at a life well lived. You noticed the sun glasses propped on his head and thanked your lucky stars that they resided there so that you could fully appreciate his eyes. They were soft and kind and had a spark of mischief behind them. If you thought his art was beautiful, you now realized that it didn’t hold a candle to the beauty of the artist himself.

He was smirking at you now. Fuck. There was no denying that you had just spent the last several seconds gawking at this complete stranger. And although embarrassment began to flood your system, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it.

“Hey” he said. One word. He said one word to you and you held onto it for dear life. Trying to play it cool, but failing miserably, you managed to mumble a “hey” back.

“You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you rushed out on a shaky breath. “I’m sorry for staring, it just really spoke to me.”

“Never apologize for appreciating art, or beauty. I won’t.” His eyes were locked on you as he said this and you couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by that. You broke eye contact when you could feel the heat returning to your cheeks.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you here.” He said lazily, bringing your attention right back to him. He was cleaning a paintbrush on his shirt, which was already patterned with splotches of paint and other stains.

“Yeah it is. Just kind of stumbled upon it by accident.”

“Well you fit here.” He stated matter-of-factly.

You couldn’t help the nervous laugh that escaped you. That feeling of being a fraud slowly returning.

“You don’t believe me.” He stated plainly, it wasn’t a question.

“Sorry, it’s just I haven’t been in the art scene for years, so it’s hard to believe I fit.”

“You can doubt yourself all you’d like, but I’m right. It may take some time for you to believe it, but I like a challenge.”

Another nervous laugh escaped you. “That’s all well and good, but I don’t even know your name.”

“Hmm. No, I don’t suppose you don’t Moonbeam.”

The nickname knocked the wind out of you. You had only just met this man and yet you felt the trajectory of your life had now been changed.

“Dieter Bravo”

“Huh?” You asked, having forgotten the current direction of your conversation, too hyper-focused on the nickname he had bestowed on you.

“My name. Dieter Bravo. Now you know it.”

“Dieter Bravo'' you repeated, testing out the name for yourself. The smirk returned to his face, and his warm eyes darkened. Fuck. He loved the sound of his name falling from your lips. He wanted to hear all the ways you could utter his name.

“Di” you said, cutting in on his thoughts and trying the nickname on for size. At the sound of the nickname it was now Dieter’s turn to be breathless, totally caught off guard by the way it made him feel. He recovered quickly.

“Yeah Moonbeam. You can call me Di.” He winked and said with that signature smirk you’ve so quickly grown accustomed to seeing him wear. Yeah, you were in trouble, there was no doubt about that. And although you had no way of knowing it, Dieter was feeling the same way. You may have stumbled upon the art walk accidentally, but he didn’t believe in accidents or coincidences. The universe brought you to him, there was no doubt about that in his mind. You were meant to come into his life and he just knew that going back to a time before you wouldn’t be possible, not that he’d ever want to. He too knew he was in trouble, but knew it was going to be the best kind of trouble he could experience.

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x y/n #dieter bravo artist #dieter bravo meet cute #pedro pascal characters

[freelancearsonist]

salt, shot, lime

➔ Dieter Bravo x afab!Reader

➔ 2.3k words

➔ You meet your celebrity crush in a bar; he turns out to be a lot more fun than you expected.

➔ Rated MA for protected p in v, public sex acts/public nudity (they fuck in a bar y’all), body shots/alcohol consumption, pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart) // reader has female anatomy (afab - no pronouns used), wears a bra, is generally able-bodied but is otherwise a blank slate.

“Go on. Don’t be shy.”

Your fingers work slowly at the buttons of your blouse, so readily and eagerly baring yourself to this man who–for all intents and purposes–is a complete stranger.

He’s familiar, though; to you, not the other way around. Dieter Bravo lives very publicly, after all. You follow him on Instagram and Twitter; you see bits and pieces of his life throughout yours. When he approached you at the bar, he had no clue who you were. But you knew him.

And now he’s eyeing you over the rims of his sepia-lensed sunglasses, ringed fingers idly tracing the rim of the empty shot glass that sits on the counter next to him. He looks at you like he wants to know you, and that’s exactly why you’re in this position.

This is crazy. This shouldn’t be happening at all. But he’s hot, and he’s interested in you. And you’re not nearly drunk enough to not understand the risks and consequences associated.

You can see the gulp that traces down his throat as you set your shirt on the counter and it gives you the willpower you need to keep from crossing your arms over your chest to cover yourself. Dieter fucking Bravo is effected just from this simple view of you in your cute yet simple bra, and it’s the headiest confidence boost you’ve ever received.

“You’re so pretty, baby.” His voice is breathless, lips parted in awe. “Fuck.”

The bartender clearing his throat and setting down a tray next to Dieter’s right hand is enough to snap the actor out of his dazed reverie. Dieter clears his throat and wrenches his eyes away from your half-naked torso, scanning the contents of the tray before humming his satisfaction.

“Ready, honey?” He asks, and you hum your approval as you lean back over the bar.

This is the first time you’ve done this, and you don’t think Dieter follows standard protocol. Or maybe he does—it’s not like you would really know, this isn’t your typical Saturday night activity—but there’s hardly anything that can be called standard about the way his wet tongue laves quickly and wetly over your sternum to give the salt something to stick to. Just that little bit of contact is enough to make you squirm, and it takes every out of restraint you possess to sit still for him as he pours the shot into the dip of your belly button.

It’s messy and sticky and not very comfortable, especially when you position the lime between your lips, but you’ve never been so turned on in your life.

He gives you a look—dark and pleading—and you take a deep, aroused breath as you nod your consent.

Again, his tongue is between your breasts, but this time it’s languid. He takes his time and flattens the length of the muscle against your skin to collect every last grain of salt.

Then he purses his lips and slurps the tequila from your belly button—but really, all you can focus on in the moment is the weight of his hand resting dangerously high on your thigh under the guise of steadying himself. His fingertips are so close yet so achingly far from where you’re wettest, and the smirk on his face says he knows it.

Finally, after a moment that seems to last at least three years, he moves up your body and bites into the lime waiting between your lips.

With him this close you can smell the heady, woodsy scent of his cologne, and it only serves to turn you on further as he sucks the juice from the tart fruit.

The way he takes the lime from you with his teeth and spits it out on the countertop should be a crime but you really can’t be fucked about it because suddenly he’s kissing you. You could isolate all three flavors on his tongue if you cared to, but you don’t in the slightest. All you can really focus on is those hands as they slide up your sides and come to rest at the base of your skull, thumbs swiping simultaneously over your cheeks to anchor you while he licks deeper into your mouth.

The cocky bastard actually smirks against your lips when you moan. The sound is soft but it only serves to motivate him; he shoves his tongue deep into your mouth like he’s trying to lick your molars as your hands wind around his neck to tug him closer to you.

And then, just as suddenly as he started kissing you, he pulls away.

“Your turn, sweetheart.” There’s just a faint little smirk to his lips, but it’s enough to make you want to smack him. It’s also enough to make you want to suck him so deep into your throat that he never fully recovers.

And fuck, you really want to tell him fuck it and ask if he wants to get out of here, but you also want to give him a taste of his own medicine.

You nod to the bartender, who sets down another shot for you. And then you nod to Dieter’s chest, and he starts tugging his baggy shirt over his head without a word.

He’s pretty. You’ve always admired his physique, sure, but it’s even better in person. There’s an unkempt quality to the smattering of hair on his lower stomach, and the soft curve of his belly has you eager to get your hands on him.

You haven’t even gotten your shot yet, but you’re hoping and praying that he’ll want to drag you into the bathroom to have his way with you after this.

He leans back and lets you prep him–smiling slightly at how careful and neat you are about laying the salt and pouring the shot. There’s a tender reverence in your touch that makes his heart pound in a way it hasn’t in years.

“You good?” You ask, looking into his dark eyes when he takes off his sunglasses, neatly folds them, and sets them on the bar.

You watch his throat bob around a thick swallow, and then he nods; and you can’t help the sick satisfaction you feel over how breathless he already is. Too easy.

You make a point of dragging your nails over his treasure trail, under the guise of steadying yourself, as you lick the salt from his firm chest. You spend a little more time there than strictly necessary; but you want to get him clean, after all. And if your tongue trails off course to drag over a taut nipple–

“Oh, fuck!” His voice is muffled from the lime wedge perched between his lips; he’s so sensitive that his hips actually jolt at your ministration, but your hand on his lower belly steadies him to assure his shot isn’t wasted. “Baby that’s not fair–”

His protest is breathy and trails off into a useless little whine when you move down to suck the tequila from his belly button. You can actually see the way his cock springs to life under his trousers in your peripheral vision, and you think you deserve an award. A big world cup-style trophy, with an inscription that reads “I made Dieter Bravo hard just from licking his fucking belly button”.

He spits the lime out before you even get a chance to taste it, but that’s okay because you’d rather taste him anyway.

His grip is firm as he cups your face in his big, meaty hands and pulls your lips to his. There’s a desperation to this kiss–a frantic meeting of lips and tongue and teeth as he tries to pull you closer to him than it’s physically possible to be. And you let him, let him take everything you so desperately want in return as you feel the scratch of his beard against your chin and the firm grip of his hands guiding the angle of your head.

“W-we should… take this somewhere more private,” you pant when you finally muster the courage to pull back for air.

He shakes his head, and you feel a twist of disappointment in your gut. But then he looks over your shoulder; you hear a deep, guttural voice–and before you know it, the entire bar is empty. Not a soul in sight, not even the bartender

“This private enough for you, honey?”

You nod dumbly, still kind of starstruck over such a powerful display of the way the entire world dances to Dieter Bravo’s tune.

He pulls you in for another deep kiss, this time backing you up into the bar counter. You can feel the insistent press of his arousal against your hip like this, and it makes you moan needily into his open mouth.

“Wanna fuck you,” he murmurs into his mouth, rolling his hips against you in a way that makes you moan again. “Please baby, lemme fuck you.”

“Fuck me,” you murmur back with a nod.

You’re definitely not normally the type that would strip down completely in the middle of a bar to fuck some man you just met, but there’s something about him that has you disregarding all common decency to toss aside your bra and wiggle out of your jeans so he can see every inch of your exposed skin.

It’s all worth it for the pleased moan he makes when he takes you in with his eyes, hungrily eating up miles and miles of flesh that he wants to touch and kiss and appreciate. But there’s not enough time, not here; so he lifts you up sideways onto the bar like you’re weightless and then presses you to lay down flat against the counter top, completely ignoring the sticky glass-sweat rings that press little cold patches into your flesh.

You get a good view of him as he loses the rest of his clothes, flinging them to the corners of the room with a ferocity that makes you giggle. The sound brings a smile to his face, too; and then he jumps up onto the sturdy bar counter with you, spreading your legs with eager hands so he can slot his hips between yours as he continues to kiss you.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he grumbles as he shamelessly ruts his hard cock against your wetness–his voice is so deep it’s almost gravelly. And then he produces a little foil packet from seemingly thin air and winks at you like a hammy cartoon character. “Safety first.”

He’s so silly it’s sexy, and he laughs with you as he presses his lips back to yours. He fumbles a little bit as he tries to roll the condom onto his impressive length while simultaneously kissing you, so you reach down with steady hands to help him; he whimpers at the way you take his girth into your hands and so easily sheathe him.

“M’not gonna last long,” he whispers as he lines up with your entrance, and you’re surprised he can’t actually feel the way it makes your cunt sob with arousal.

“That’s okay,” you reassure, one hand coming to tug firmly at the curls that compose the nape of his neck. “Just make it good.”

He nods, gently bites at your lower lip, and then he thrusts into you smoothly all the way to the hilt.

There’s a bit of a stretch to accommodate him and it makes you moan; the feeling of your tight heat sends a physical shudder down his spine.

“Oh, fuck–” he scoots his knees up further towards your ass, shoving himself as deep as he can get while simultaneously trying to let you adjust to his sudden intrusion. “Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good–”

You feel the slight scrape of his thick curls against your clit, and it yanks a desperate little moan from your lips. “Move, Dieter, fuck me–”

He’s nothing if not obedient. The first needy little thrust is hard enough to jolt your entire body–he scoops a hand under your head to soften the blow, and then he starts moving with reckless abandon.

It’s hot, it’s sweaty, it’s desperate. He thrusts hard and deep into your soaked core, mouthing uselessly at your mouth and jaw, whimpering with each rut of his hips. He watches your face when he can actually keep his eyes open and finds the exact spot that makes you writhe and squirm underneath him, angling his hips to hit it with relentless accuracy.

He looks pussydrunk, it’s the only way to describe the expression created by his glassy eyes and his parted lips. He nuzzles his face in between your tits and looks up at you like you created the moon and the stars, like you’re something to revere. You’re scared that if he keeps looking at you like that, you’re going to fall in love with him.

“I’m close, Dieter…” you warn, the hand that's not clutching desperately at his messy hair reaching down to put your favorite kind of pressure on your clit.

He tilts his head down and watches to the best of his ability, making mental note of exactly how you like to be worked over–storing that information away for next time. He so desperately wants there to be a next time.

He feels it a second before you do and angles his hips just right to hit that toe-curlingly pleasurable spot right as you come. It sends you sky high, the way he pounds mercilessly into you while the pleasure ebbs and flows over you.

He comes hardly a minute later, grunting and whining and cursing under his breath as his balls draw up and he empties himself into the condom, shoved as deep inside you as he can physically get.

There’s a long, heavy moment of silence as you both pant and try to come down from the clouds. He scatters little feather-light kisses over your sweat-slicked chest, and then he looks up at you with those big brown puppy eyes you’re starting to adore.

“You wanna grab dinner?” He’s so earnest in asking, like he’s not balls-deep in your cunt right now.

It’s so ass-backwards that you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up your throat, but you don’t consider any other answer than, “Yeah, sure.”

It’s worth it just to see the smile that lights up his face. “Amazing.”

➔ dividers: @saradika-graphics

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#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble #the bubble fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #cece writes

[chiriwritesstuffnotifs]

The New Girl in Tinseltown - Chapter 1 - Ukiyo

A Dieter Bravo x Actress! Reader PR Marriage AU

Series Masterlist │ Next Chapter

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: Tired of being pigeonholed into your good girl persona, you take a chance on a night out with Dieter Bravo, America's favorite Bad Boy. A drunken night leads to the two of you in Las Vegas...

Chapter Warnings and Tags: (Not So) meet cute, PR Relationships, what happens in Vegas ends up in the headlines, Dieter just does not give a FUCK, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, a look at the inner workings of Tinseltown and the sleaziness it comes with, Somnophilia, Slightly Dub-Con (but she's into it), cunnilingus, SLOW BURN WE DONT KNOW IT, this is unhinged, no use of y/n, No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 3.1 K

A/N: After the insistence of some of my readers wanting me to write a Dieter story, I finally bit the bullet! I will be honest - it's tough for me to watch 'The Bubble' in its entirety. Hence, I heavily relied on TikTok and its fabulous edits of Dieter to develop his characterization. This was really fun for me to write, and I hope you all enjoy the ride our favorite trash panda is about to take us on! Gird your loins and your panties, babies!

Ukiyo - living in the moment, detached from the things in life that bother us.

You feel like you're trapped in a surreal, fucked-up dream.

Memories from the night before flooding your mind as you gradually pull yourself back into consciousness. 

"It's nothing personal, Dollface, it's just business," the sleazy hot-shot producer whispers in your ear. His hands graze your lower back, and you force a smile amidst the swarm of paparazzi. "I'm not a miracle worker, baby. They want an Angelina, not a Jennifer. Casting America's sweetheart in an R-rated movie? It's a tough sell."

"I'm not exactly jailbait," you retort, turning toward the paparazzo bellowing your name, a practiced smile on your face. "I believe I'm ready to explore different roles-"

"Well, that 'no-nudity' clause is really messing you up, baby. Times are changing, and they want bold, daring, sexy actresses," he remarks, his tone oozing condescension. 

The producer's creepy breath tickles your ear, and his hands venture lower down your back. "I can help you with that," he whispers, and the suggestion feels like a toxic cloud hanging in the air, making your skin crawl.

You toss and turn in bed, gripping the silky sheets beneath you. The memory of his touch haunts your thoughts, leaving you uncomfortable and anxious. 

"Dieter Bravo," your publicist cautions with a smile, guiding you down the carpet, "is someone you want to avoid tonight, Doll. Save yourself the hassle, seriously."

You furrow your brow, glancing down the red carpet to where Dieter stands. His unruly curls frame his face as he grins widely for the photographers. It's as if he senses your gaze; suddenly, his eyes lock onto yours, eyebrows raised in surprise. A smirk plays on his lips, and he blows a kiss in your direction.

"He's nothing but trouble, I'm surprised they let him on the carpet after what happened last year," your publicist states matter-of-factly.

"Care to remind me?" you breathe, smiling at the cameras. "He seems like a riot."

Your publicist shoots you a look. "Well, I don't consider getting arrested for public intoxication, disorderly conduct, and lewd behavior as something amusing-"

"I don't know, seems like he would be a fun time," you muse, playfully pushing your breasts in Dieter's direction. "Maybe that's what my career needs – someone like Dieter Bravo corrupting America's Sweetheart." Dieter leers at the gesture, waggling his tongue and adjusting himself as he walks backward into the venue, a mischievous grin on his face. "... besides, he hasn't been shy about wanting to 'put his face in between my tits', maybe I should just let him have at it."

"Are you seriously considering tanking your career before it's even taken off?" your publicist groans, steering you into the venue and handing you a flute of champagne. "People like him are like a virus; he'll infect everything about you." He lets out a sigh. "I understand you want to break out of the girl-next-door mold, but getting involved with Dieter Bravo is not the answer."

You take a sip of your champagne as you continue to eye fuck Dieter from across the room. "I don't know, maybe it is."

You're suddenly gasping in pleasure as you're finally jolted awake, the feeling of someone's hot breath against your skin as you arch your back at the sudden intrusion. "Fuck-" you sigh, looking down at the mass of unruly curly hair in between your legs. Dieter licks and parts your folds as you lock eyes with his, a shit-eating grin on his face. You swear you hear an insistent ringing in your head.

"Dieter?" you moan, realizing that what you're hearing is your ringtone from across the hotel room that you don't remember being in. "What-"

"Shh, baby. Let your husband eat you for breakfast," he mumbles against your pussy, his teeth scraping at your clit. He grabs onto your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple as he sticks his other finger into you, eating you out so thoroughly like a starved man. Your cellphone rings again and you're too overwhelmed to care, your head pounding from whatever you drank the night before.  

"Husband?" you ask confusedly as you feel yourself about to come. 

"That's right, Doll, fuck I feel you squeezing the shit out of my fingers, are you gonna come for your husband?" he pleads, and you realize that you're both stark naked and that you somehow ended up from LA to Las Vegas, getting eaten out by America's Bad Boy in a suite at the Cosmopolitan.  How in the fuck did we end up here? you ask yourself in a panic.  Why the fuck is Dieter Bravo calling himself my husband?!

You're on your fifth glass of whatever champagne the venue is serving when you suddenly feel someone's hot breath against your ear. "I can't help but notice that you've been eye fucking me the entire night," Dieter groans, taking a seat next to you. "I guess my little ploy of trying to get your attention with that Wired interview worked out in my favor-"

"You know, there are more normal ways to get a girl's attention-"

"Ah, but you're America's Sweetheart, and your pitbull of a publicist won't let me near you, I had to let my-" he gazes at your cleavage, "intentions very clearly known."

"Well, I don't know if it's clearly known," you whisper. "I think you're just going to have to spell it out for me."

He smiles, leaning back in the seat as he spreads his legs, caging you in. "Do you want to have sex with me, Dollface?"

Your phone ringing a third time snaps you out of your reverie as you simultaneously chase your impending orgasm that your husband? is working so damn hard trying to get you there. "Fuck Dieter, I need-"

"What do you need, baby?" he pants, the sound of your slick as he licks at your folds aggressively, the loud squelching echoing throughout the room. "My wife has such a pretty little pussy, my fucking GOD," he praises, "Fuck, if this is heaven, I'm begging to see what hell has in store for me-"

It's obscene.

"Do you need my cock? Didn't get enough of it yesterday, huh?"

"My phone-"

"Fuck your phone," he dismisses as he starts to pump another finger into you, "Do you want your hubby's cock or not, baby?"

"Ye-"

Your legs are suddenly pulled to the edge of the bed, Dieter entering you in one fluid stroke. "Good enough answer for me." He pulls himself back, grabbing one of your legs and wrapping it around his waist as he thrusts aggressively back into you, his balls slapping your asscheeks as he begins to pound into you with a brutal pace. "Fuck, only took me being inside of you the whole night for you to take me in so fucking well-"

You chuckle as he accelerates out of the venue's parking garage in his PA's Mustang convertible, cackling like a madman as he maneuvers through the dwindling streets of LA. "Are you hungry, Dollface?" he yells, almost running a red light, his eyes fixed on the glowing In and Out sign in the distance.

"I shouldn't, I have that screen test next week-"

"Fuck the screen test!" he shouts. "The night is young, and you are gorgeous. Let Dieter take care of you, baby... while I still have you in my grasp. I ain't gonna waste a moment I have you in my orbit!"

He pulls into the In and Out parking lot, cutting the engine, and pulls you into his lap, his face immediately diving into the valley between your breasts. "You can suffocate me with these tits and I would die a happy man," he mumbles against your skin, his growl reverberating throughout your entire body like wildfire. "What do you say, Doll? Would you do me the honors?"

"Fuck Dieter," you moan, tipping your head back in pleasure as his tongue teases the edge of your dress covering your breasts. "Grab my tits," you beg, grabbing his hands for good measure.  

"Dieter! My Man!" someone shouts in the distance. "What the fuck are you doing here?!"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he yells back, "I'm about to fuck this beautiful woman in an In and Out parking lot, what are you doing here?"

"Fuck, can I take a pic, man?" the fan shouts as he approaches the convertible.  

Dieter is railing you into oblivion when there's suddenly a heavy knock on the door. Your phone is ringing off the hook, and you can't help but desperately whine as Dieter wraps his arms around your neck, pulling you into a kiss.  "Fuck, can't I fuck my wife in peace?!" he growls at the door, his pace quickening as he urges you to come on his cock. "I ain't answering the fucking door until you milk me dry, baby girl, you gonna come for me?"

"Fuck Dieter, don't fucking stop, please-" 

The knocking on the door echoes throughout the room as Dieter suddenly arches his back, squeezing your thighs harshly as he explodes deep into your pussy, his fingers finding your clit as he desperately rubs circles, begging you to come. He slaps it for good measure, the sharp sudden pain making you arch off the bed as you grab ahold of him, screaming into his neck as you're suddenly blinded by a feeling of absolute fucking bliss that no one has ever been able to pull from your wrecked, shaking body.

"That's the fucking spirit, Doll, give me every-"

"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!" you suddenly hear. "I KNOW YOU'RE FUCKING IN THERE!" 

Dieter pulls himself out in a huff, not bothering to cover himself as he storms over to the hotel room door, opening it harshly for good measure. "What do you FUCKING WANT-" he growls to the intruder, only to be met with the widening eyes of your publicist, his PA, and the Hotel Manager. Your publisher harshly pushes himself through the threshold, pushing Dieter to the wall as he makes his way to the bedroom, and you hurriedly cover yourself as he bursts through the door.

A phone is thrust into your face, the image of you and Dieter in front of the Graceland Wedding Chapel in the background as you hold your hand up for the camera, Dieter kissing your cheek as the diamond ring on your finger winks back at you. You lift your hand to your face, your eyes widening at the ring on your finger as your publicist glares at you, his chest heaving.  

"Do you want to tell me what the fuck happened last night?"

"So how do we fix this?" your publicist groans, the wrinkle between his brows more pronounced. "Maybe we can get this sham of a marriage annulled-"

"I have an idea," Dieter's PA chirps in, "What if we lean into this?"

"Absolutely not!" you find yourself shouting, your hands reaching for the bottle of painkillers on your coffee table. "I'm America's fucking sweetheart, the gossip rags are already having a field day about me getting my tits groped by America's bad boy at a fucking In and Out-"

"If I can recall, Dollface, you put my hands on said tits-" Dieter snarks, pushing his sunglasses down on his face, leaning into your chaise. "Must have done something right, hell, you were practically begging me to marry you, jumped on my lap the moment we got into the convertible-"

"Are you always this vulgar?" you bite back, taking a big gulp of water, some of the liquid spilling down your neck, onto the valley between your breasts. You notice Dieter gulp at the sight, his gaze resting heavily on your chest. He takes a tentative lick on his lips, a small smile forming on the corner of his mouth.

"Only for you, Mrs. Bravo." He winks, smirking.

"Stop that." You quip, crossing your arms around your chest.  

"Stop what, Dollface?" he asks coyly, spreading out on the lounge.  

"Looking at me like the cat that got the cream," you reply, refusing to meet what you imagine to be his smoldering gaze.  

"Well," he breathes, a Cheshire grin on his face. "I most certainly got you to cream, several times-"

"I would think the feelings mutual," you seethe through your teeth. "I mean, I did get you to come in your pants just by sucking on your-"

“You want to land meatier, sexier roles, right? Break free from the rom-com stereotype,” Dieter's PA nervously interjects, “… and you certainly don’t want to face blacklisting in Hollywood due to your recent escapades,” he shoots a meaningful look at his boss. “I believe this marriage might actually be a strategic move. It could help you break out of the girl-next-door image and simultaneously soften Dieter's playboy persona.”

Dieter contemplates this, crossing his legs on the chaise lounge as he glances into the living room of the hotel suite. He smirks at the sight of you with your arms crossed around your chest, recalling the moments when you were pliant in his arms just a few hours ago, begging and whining as he licked and sucked every inch of your delectable skin. His dick twitches at the memory, hungry to be inside of you once more.  

Dieter leans back, his fingers tapping on the armrest as he assesses the situation. “A calculated scandal to redefine my image and give her career a new direction? I suppose there's a certain allure to that.”

Your publicist interjects, “It's a risky move, but it could work. Public opinion is volatile. We need to control the narrative, give them a story that captivates and eventually redeems.”

Dieter smirks, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you. “So, America’s sweetheart and I play the happy couple, the media eats it up, and we both get what we want.”

You scoff, “This is insane. I’m not entering into a fake marriage for the sake of our careers.”

Dieter raises an eyebrow, "But what if it's not entirely fake?"

You glare at him, a mixture of disbelief and annoyance crossing your face. "What do you mean, not entirely fake?"

Dieter leans forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We can keep the public guessing. A little ambiguity goes a long way in the celebrity world. We'll play the part when we need to, but in private, we keep things... interesting."

Your publicist looks skeptical, "That could be a recipe for disaster. What if it backfires? What if the public starts hating both of you?"

Dieter smirks, "Let them talk. Controversy sells, my dear. As long as we control the narrative, we can turn this into a win-win situation."

You cross your arms, feeling a headache coming on. The idea of navigating a fake-real marriage with Dieter is the last thing you want. Yet, there's a strange spark of curiosity. What if this insane plan could actually work?

As you contemplate the proposal, the room is filled with tension, waiting for your response. Dieter raises a curious eyebrow at you, a small smirk playing on his lips as he places his hand on them. He sees you gulp heavily at that, your legs crossing tentatively as you try to play coy.  Ah, yes, sweetheart. I see you. I caught you in my web, and I'm going to consume every fucking inch-

You take a deep breath, considering the options laid out in front of you. The publicist watches you with a mix of concern and caution, awaiting your decision.

"I don't like it," you finally say, your tone firm. "But if it helps me keep my career and get the roles I want, I'll play along. Just remember, Dieter, if this blows up in our faces, it's on you."

Dieter grins, satisfied with your response. "Trust me, darling, this is going to be a wild ride. We'll be the talk of the town."

Your publicist rubs his temples, clearly not thrilled with the plan but realizing the potential benefits. "Fine, let's go with it. But we need a strategy, a narrative that controls the story. And we must be careful not to let things spiral out of control."

Dieter nods, already plotting the next move. "Leave it to me. We'll craft a story that keeps them guessing and wanting more. Our little secret, darling."

"... and there will need to be some ground rules," you say firmly, uncrossing your legs as you adjust yourself in front of Dieter, presenting the fact that you still haven't put on underwear under your dress. You smirk as he tries to adjust himself, the sight of his spend still leaking out of your pussy leaving him groaning. "If we are going to do this, you have to be in it for real which means... no fucking little Miss Suzy and embarrassing me. You're going to worship me in public, and make an honest wife out of me."

Dieter leans forward as he locks his darkened eyes at you, licking his lips in anticipation. "Oh baby, I'll show you how I'll make an honest wife of you, several times... maybe as soon as all the suits leave-"

"You love this, don't you?" you breathe, toying with the hem of your top, exposing your lace bralette in his direction. "Thinking you have me all riled up, thinking I'll beg for you-"

"Guys-" Dieter's PA attempts to diffuse the tension in the room, looking nervously at your publicist for backup. "Just think about it, okay? I'll have your lawyers draft up a contract for the both of you to look over."

"Why don't you all just get the fuck out and let me fuck my wife in peace?" he retorts, pulling his robe off for good measure, not a care in the world as his dick stands proudly erect. "You're wasting good light, and I intend to fuck her on every surface of this goddamn suite-"

"Lovely," you sigh into the couch, groaning as you pinch the space in between your eyes. "You're a real class act, you know that?"

"Well, I'll just-" His PA stutters, grabbing his messenger bag. "Let's leave them alone, call us when you get back to LA," he murmurs, motioning for your Publicist to follow him.  

"We're not done with this conversation, Dollface," he chides, slinging his bag on his shoulder. "I expect to see you on Monday for the screen test?"

"Yes, yes, I'll be there," you dismiss him with a wave. "I'm sorry, for all of this," you say softly, refusing to look him in the eyes.  

"Not as sorry as you're going to feel once you see the headlines," he warns. "Brace yourself, Dollface. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Taglist: @yxtkiwiyxt @skysmiller @picketniffler @readingiskeepingmegoing @islacharlotte @drewharrisonwriter

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[chiriwritesstuff]

The New Girl in Tinseltown - Chapter 2 - Devil's Advocate

A Dieter Bravo x Actress! Reader PR Marriage AU

Previous Chapter │ Series Masterlist │ Next Chapter

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: A look into Dieter's point of view at the night of our fated trip to Vegas. How does America's favorite Bad Boy™ end up married to America's New Sweetheart™?

Chapter Warnings and Tags: (Not So) meet cute, PR Relationships, what happens in Vegas ends up in the headlines, Dieter just does not give a FUCK, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, a look at the inner workings of Tinseltown and the sleaziness it comes with, Dry Humping, A hell of a lot of dirty banter, is that yearning?, mentions of devious deeds by sleazy people in show business, our loverboy makes a 'Pride and Prejudice reference, SLOW BURN WE DONT KNOW IT, this is unhinged, no use of y/n, No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 8K (whoops!)

A/N: I know, I know, I KNOW. I promised the release of this chapter weeks ago, but I got struck by the not-covid-but-felt-like-covid virus and managed to get myself into the biggest writing slump. I really do apologize for that, and I want to give a big thank you to everyone who stuck around and showed and shared love and support for the first chapter and this series! I can confidently say that the writing slump has finally passed, and we can finally get this crazy show on the road...

An (almost) year before that night in Vegas.

“Dieter, I'm expecting you to be on your best behavior tonight."

Dieter scowls at his publicist while his groomer diligently applies yet another round of pomade in an attempt to tame his unruly curls. "Define best behavior."

"They're about to launch a new girl into the circuit, some unknown that the studio thinks will become the next girl next door," his publicist responds, tapping away at his MacBook. "She's a genuinely sweet thing, all doe-eyed and untouched by the suits. Apparently, she's so sweet that Feldman-"

“Let me guess,” Dieter deadpans, "Feldman wants to fuck her," he rolls his eyes at that, slightly curious at the prospect of fresh blood. "Why am I not surprised?"

"That's not the best part," his publicist quips, his eyes locking with Dieter's over the rim of his laptop. "The studio wants to protect their asset, so much so that they hired-"

"No fucking way, they hired the Shark for this broad? What? Does she have beer-flavored nipples or something?" Dieter exclaims, his curiosity piqued. "Is she really that sweet?"

His publicist's mouth quirks into a small smirk. "The sweetest, most fucking forbidden fruit, my friend. So sweet that the Shark doesn't want you within ten feet of his client."

"Oh yeah?" Dieter replies, his eyes raised.

"Hell yeah. He tried to corner me earlier, warning me to keep my client's - and I quote - Dirty fucking paws off of his Doll-"

"Doll, huh? I bet I could tap that," Dieter challenges, his chest puffed out.

Dieter's publicist chuckles to himself, shaking his head. "Dieter, I know you believe you're God's gift to the masses, but trust me, this Doll? She's a bit out of your league."

Dieter leans back in his chair, a sly grin forming on his face. "Out of my league, huh? That just makes it more interesting. The thrill of the chase, my friend."

His publicist raises an eyebrow, skeptical. "Dieter, I've seen you chase plenty, but this Doll is different. She's not like the others. There's an innocence about her that even your charm might struggle to crack."

Dieter smirks, undeterred. "Well, we'll see about that. The forbidden fruit always tastes the sweetest, doesn't it?"

The publicist lets out a resigned sigh. "Just remember, Dieter, not every fruit is meant to be plucked."

"What is this event even for?" Dieter counters, appraising himself as his stylist smooths the fabric of his suit, a deep emerald green number with a crisp obsidian button-down. He pouts at the mirror, glancing at his publicist and his agent behind him. "It's not the Nickelodeon Kids Choice Awards again, is it?"

"Why? So you could be caught doing blow off a toilet bowl seat like last year? I'm still doing damage control for that, you know," his agent deadpans. "You're in luck; it's the MTV Movie Awards-"

"... and this is Doll's debut, huh? Is she up for an award or something?"

"Several, actually. Surprisingly, her last film gained quite the following-"

"... let me guess, it's some rom-com," Dieter interjects, a hint of disinterest in his tone. "What are the categories?"

"Three, to be exact." His agent smirks into his cognac. "Best Female Lead, Female Breakout Star, and Best Kiss-"

"Best Kiss? Seriously?" Dieter retorts incredulously, his eyes widening. "What's the name of her movie? I might need to see it for myself-"

"Dieter, level with me. Are you gonna keep your dirty fucking paws off of the Shark's asset?" his publicist sighs, giving him a stern look. "As much as I want to shove my foot up his fucking ass, I don't have the energy to have him breathing down my back the entire fucking night-" he looks off into Dieter's direction, who is currently on your Wikipedia page. He frowns. "Dieter, do you hear me?"

"What?" Dieter snaps, slamming his phone onto his seat.

"Can you manage to be on your best behavior tonight? Stay clear of-"

"No. I mean, sure, fine, whatever-" Dieter interrupts, his tone dismissive.

"Dieter-"

"I heard you! I promise to stay away from her, but the real question is, are you able to keep her away from me?" He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

The (not-so meet cute) at the MTV Movie Awards.

"Dieter!" you shout, hastily making your way toward him, clearly a few drinks in. "Surprised to see you here!" you shout excitedly, a little wobble in your step as you approach him. 

You adorn a sleek silver gown, your hair elegantly swept to one side, and your radiant face contrasting vividly with the venue's intense lights. Dieter finds himself momentarily breathless as he gazes at you, captivated by your ethereal presence, akin to an angel descending into the depths of hell. "Fuck me," he murmurs under his breath as you draw near, the collar around his neck suddenly feeling constrictive as he nervously swallows. "What the hell? I never get nervous around women," he mutters to himself, his eyes tracing the entirety of your figure. His pants grow notably tighter, his attention fixated on the hypnotic sway of your hips.

He greets you with a nervous smile as you come face to face, tenderly planting a kiss on your cheek. His eyes close momentarily as he savors your delicate scent, a sensation that electrifies his chest and courses through his veins, prompting his hands to instinctively caress the back of your head as he subtly tries to capture another whiff. A subtle sense of pride swells within him as he notices the blush unexpectedly blooming across your skin, its warmth cascading down your cleavage.

Forbidden fucking fruit indeed. 

"Doll," he attempts to say smoothly, a hint of nervousness lacing his voice. "I've heard so much about you. Congrats on your wins tonight; they're truly well-deserved!"

"Really?" you suddenly squeal, and Dieter feels like he could get lost in your energy. It's pure, sweet, and so inherently innocent—the childlike wonder of being thrust into the limelight, untarnished by the sleazy underbelly of Hollywood. He can't help but internally frown, foreseeing the inevitable vultures in suits trying to get a piece of you. Their insatiable hunger for new, sweet flesh is something he knows all too well.

"Well, yeah, Doll, you killed it, as expected. Winning tonight and sweeping all your nominations was a given," he muses, casually leaning against his chair. As he leans towards you, a subconscious desire prompts him to take another whiff of your perfume, desperately trying to commit its essence to memory amid the haze of his coke-induced high. He can't resist burying his nose in your hair, eyes closing as he takes you in once more. 

"Dieter-" you question his sudden boldness, a nervous chuckle escaping you. 

"I'm sorry, baby-" he moans into your neck, his hands traveling down the length of your back. "You must tell me what the name of your perfume is, its divine-"

"Oh," you laugh as Dieter pulls you into him tighter, groaning as his hands travel dangerously close down your hips. "It's 'Missing Person' by-"

"Doll," a voice emerges from behind the two of you, accompanied by a stern clearing of someone's throat. Dieter's expression darkens as he recognizes the owner of the voice, but not before planting one final teasing kiss against your throat. With a smirk playing on his lips, he straightens up and turns to confront the perpetually annoyed yet annoyingly handsome face of the man Hollywood dubs 'The Shark'- also known as the most ruthless of publicists in all of Tinseltown, protecting his clients with an iron fist so strong no one ever thinks of crossing him.

Unless they wanted a cease and desist letter shoved so far up their assholes... without any fucking lube.   

Dieter gets it, though. If he were in his shoes and he had a client like you? All sweet and pure with the face of an angel but a body curated by the Devil himself?

Well, he would fuck your brains out and make you forget your name first, but that's beside the point. The point is, he gets it, he really fucking does.  

"Well well well," Dieter croons as he holds his hand up towards your publicist. "It's been a long time, Shark. Tell me, did you have to call ahead to make sure that some poor bloke's mangled testicles made it onto your plate for tonight, or did you rip someone's balls off fresh on-site?" he snarks with the raise of his eyebrow, shaking his head as your publicist stares at his outstretched hand in greeting. Dieter scoffs as he retreats his hand, placing it on his hip.  

"Bravo," Your publicist grits through clenched teeth as he tries to appear as unbothered as possible. "Aren't you a little old to be here tonight? The rumors aren't true, you know. Fucking girls close to half your age doesn't keep you young, but I suppose it makes sense, considering a woman your age would know better-"

"Shark, I won't tolerate you talking like that in the presence of an actual earth-bound angel. Just because she's young doesn't mean she doesn't know right from wrong-" Dieter retorts, flashing you a smoldering smile. "... you know how to handle yourself, don't you, Doll? You don't need some uptight prick telling you what you can and cannot do, right?" he winks, a slight puff to his chest.

You visibly shiver at his cheeky insinuation, nodding. "Right," you breathe, taking a hasty gulp of your champagne. "I'm 29 years old, I don't need you defending my 'honor' like I'm some virginal maiden-"

"Well, when my client has far too many drinks in her and doesn't understand the kind of man she's in the presence of-"

"The Devil, right?" Dieter exclaims, pointing to himself. "A no-good washed-up actor who fucks anything with two legs while high off my rocker, who just so happens to be good at what I do with the Oscar in my shitter to prove it? Don't you think she knows all of this? My bare ass isn't on the front page of TMZ weekly because I'm a nobody, baby."

"Oh my god, Dieter," you gush, clapping your hands together. "I loved you in-"

"Doll," your publicist interrupts, a firm hand on your shoulder. "You have that meeting with Favreau at the Beverley Hills in 30 minutes. As much as we would love to stay and chat... we have our jobs to get to, right Doll?" your publicist says to you sweetly, his hand grazing your arm. He clears his throat, nodding at Dieter. "Bravo, it was stimulating, as always," he deadpans with a hint of finality, pulling on your elbow like a lost puppy on a leash. Dieter swallows as he witnesses your light dimming from your face, a small frown on your face as you try to remain cordial, a fake smile etched on your face.  

"It was nice meeting you, Dieter," you almost whisper, pulling him into one last hug. "... maybe we'll just run into each other again soon?" You quickly whisper in his ear, and the thought of the two of you meeting up in secret thrills him to no end. His dick certainly twitches at the prospect. 

Dieter takes one last whiff of your scent, his eyes closing as he wills the time to stand still, not wanting to lose the warmth radiating from your aura. He presses one last kiss on your cheek, his fingers caressing the spot as he gives you a genuine smile.  

"... it wouldn't be soon enough, baby."

He gives The Shark one last salute, flipping him off once his back is toward him. “Fucking asshole cockblock,” he mutters to himself, patting his suit pocket for his little baggie of E. He pinches the baggie between his fingers, looking at its contents in silent contemplation.  I guess if I can't get the girl, at least I can get the high, right?

The morning after.

Dieter is face down on his sofa in his boxers and his robe, groaning from the after-effects of his debauchery just a few hours before. As if his skull is splitting into two, he winces as he turns himself onto his back, staring aimlessly into his ceiling as his iPhone suddenly starts to go off from under him.

Sighing, he blindly reaches for his phone, one eye open as he squints into the tiny, shattered screen.

TMZ NEWS FLASH! Up-and-coming Actress who swept MTV awards show last night being groped by Resident Playboy Dieter Bravo? Her publicist sweeps in to save our New "It" Girl in Tinseltown from the grasp of the Devil himself-

Dieter scoffs as he swipes the notification away, his eyes scanning the next headline.

AP NEWS ALERT: Dieter Bravo seen kissing Rising Actress at MTV Movie Awards last night, is a new romance brewing between the Fresh-Faced Actress and Playboy Lothario Dieter Bravo?

"Dieter," his publicist groans as he walks into the room, picking up a crumpled pair of boxer briefs off the sofa, and throws himself on it, pinching the space between his eyebrows as he shakes his head. "What the hell did I tell you? Stay away from The Shark's client, don't grope her in front of him! Can't you just listen to me for once?"

"It was innocent! I kept my hands at a respectable distance from her ass," Dieter retorts, throwing his phone across the room. "I didn't even make a move—"

"That's not the point, Dieter!" his publicist spits back, pulling out his phone. "Do you realize how much this guy despises you? I'm good at my job, but The Shark? I can't go against a god—"

"You're making him out to be some untouchable—"

"...because he is untouchable, Dieter! Do you even know he's buddies with Feldman? After learning about your stunt last night, he's considering pulling you from the project."

"Please," Dieter scoffs, rolling his eyes. "They need me more than I need them! I'm practically doing them a favor, signing on to this fucking movie. They're not going to pull Dieter Bravo from a sinking ship! It's just scare tactics!"

"Yeah, well, you know what they say. The pussy is stronger than god, right?" his publicist replies, scrolling through his phone. "Feldman didn't appreciate your hands on his girl, and now he's out for blood. I warned you about this, D. Is some girl worth losing a multi-million dollar contract? Do you want to go back to doing 'surprise guest star' roles on cable TV? I heard they're thinking of rebooting 'Suits', it might be a good fit for you-"

"So what do I need to do then?" Dieter fires back, a joint between his lips. "I assume I'll be needing to make a public statement or some shit? Keep the old bastard happy?"

"It's funny you mention that D. I have an email from The Shark himself, with a list of what he wants you to say in your statement, promising he'll back the fuck off if you promise to not go within ten feet of his asset-"

"Have you ever heard of 'Missing People' perfume?" Dieter suddenly asks, taking a hit off his joint, his eyes following the thick plume of smoke as he leans back into the sofa. "Missing... Woman?" he mumbles to himself absentmindedly, licking his lips. "Fuck, what did she say it was? I need to stop going to these things blitzed out of my fucking mind-"

"Dieter, focus. Are we releasing the statement or not?"

"MARCUS!" Dieter calls out for his PA suddenly, ignoring his publicist as he grabs the phone out of his hands. "MARCUS! I NEED YOU!"

"Yes D?" Marcus responds as he rushes into the living room, pulling a fresh pack of Kitkat out of his back pocket. "Did you need a snack?"

"Have you ever heard of 'Missing Someone' perfume?" he asks once more as he pulls up the Safari app on his publicist's phone.  

"You mean 'Missing Person' by Phlur?" Marcus quips, picking up the stray pieces of discarded clothing strewn randomly around the room. “One of my favorite actresses just became the spokesperson for that perfume, swears by it-“ 

“Missing PERSON, that’s what it was!” Dieter shouts, tossing his publicist's phone back at him. “Marcus, you’re a fucking godsend! I knew there was a reason why I kept you around! Could you do me a small favor?”

"What do you need, D?" Marcus asks eagerly, his hand perched on his hip. 

"I need you to buy me 'Missing People'. A couple of bottles, at least."

"How many is a couple?" Marcus asks with a nervous chuckle. "Five? Are you giving these out as gifts or something?"

"Maybe I could call Chriselle, and tell her you're interested in the company, there are more scents suitable for men, D," his publicist says casually, pulling out his laptop from his messenger bag. "I ran into her at Erewhon the other day, she's a big fan of your work, and couldn't stop talking about Cliff Beasts... Now, about that statement-"

"Fuck asking, just go to Neimans or Sephora or something and buy out their entire stock. Lotions and body wash and candles if it comes in that scent, too, Marcus. Go to all of the fucking Sephoras if you need to."

"... the entire stock? D, what is this for?"

"Do I pay you to ask all of these fucking questions? Don't worry about what I'm going to do with it. Just get it in my hands by the end of the day, do you think you could swing that?"

"... yes?"

Dieter takes another drag out of his joint, nodding aimlessly. "Great. Also, stop by Blicks on your way back. I need an entire arsenal and the biggest canvas they have. New brushes, too! Set up my studio and put the 'Missing People' in my bathroom, and I'll want my usual In n Out order, too."

Flustered, Marcus pulls out his phone and starts typing Dieter's requests on his notes app. Running a nervous hand through his hair, he looks at his boss once more. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Get the fuck out of my face and get to work, Marcus. Chop Chop!"

His assistant nods and scrambles out of the living room, tripping on the corner of the area rug on his way out. Dieter's publicist raises his eyebrow at the display, shaking his head as he types away on his laptop. "You know, you could be nicer to him, D. He tries hard to cater to your every fucking whim and fancy... now, are we gonna release that fucking statement or not?"

"What statement?" Dieter asks absentmindedly as he pulls out a small baggie from his robe pocket.  

"The one where you say that you had a little too much to drink and that you didn't mean anything by groping Doll at the Movie Awards, and that you're really sorry and will be donating a couple thousand to a women's shelter-"

"... and this will make The Shark happy? and Feldman off my ass?" he replies, rubbing his gums as he smiles to himself. "I'll be able to stay on the project?"

"You can start packing your bags, yes. Filming starts in a week for the next few months in Europe. It'll give this whole Movie Awards nonsense some time to blow over."

Dieter considers this for a moment. He sticks his tongue out in contemplation, coming to the unsettling realization that he hasn't been in a major studio project in the last few years. He needs this job more than they need him, and deep down, he knows this. He takes one last drag out of his joint, flicking the roach away as he turns towards his publicist.

"Release the fucking statement."

His publicist nods, fingers flying across the keyboard. "Good," he murmurs, genuine relief softening his features. "I can't handle you out of work for another month, not after the fucking pandemic... What's the deal with all that perfume, anyway?"

"What?" Dieter replies absentmindedly, scratching his beard.

"The stuff you made Marcus buy in bulk," his publicist clarifies.

"Forget the perfume. Do you still have those photos I sent you?"

"I've got them, but I haven't checked them out yet. Why?"

Dieter gestures toward the laptop. "Why don't you take a look?"

His publicist eyes him warily, opening the email. His expression shifts to shock as he glimpses the contents. "Is this—"

Dieter nods, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Yep."

"This is huge, Dieter. How did you even get these? They're screwed if this ever goes public—"

"That's why it's payback time. A little warning shot," Dieter interrupts, leaning forward eagerly. "We leak the photos. Anonymously, of course."

"Dieter," his publicist warns, "If they trace it back to you—"

"I'll take the risk. They messed with the wrong guy," Dieter scoffs, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "These amateurs think they can get away with it?" he mutters to himself, then clears his throat. "Remember our motto?"

"Nobody fucks with Dieter Bravo."

Dieter leans back on the sofa, nodding. "That's right. Nobody fucks with Dieter Bravo."

Six Months later.

"Hi, I'm Carol Cobb!"

"... and I'm Dieter Bravo!"

"And we are doing a Wired Autocomplete Interview!"

"Alright! Is Dieter Bravo..." Carol energetically rips the first sheet of paper off her card, a playful smile spreading across her face as Dieter looks attentively at the camera. "Is Dieter Bravo dead?!" She bursts into laughter, smacking Dieter with the card, who simply shrugs. "Wow! Why would they hit us with that right out of the gate?"

"Not dead yet!" Dieter exclaims, pushing his signature glasses off his face while gazing into the camera. "Got close... several times," he adds with a pointed smirk.

"...and we are very much thankful for that!" Carol shouts. "Shall we move on to the next one?" She tears the next slip of paper, her eyes widening as she reads, “Is Dieter Bravo secretly married?!”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a secret if I spilled the beans now, would it?” Dieter smiles conspiratorially, rubbing his chin in contemplation.

“I can't imagine you ever settling down,” Carol muses with a smirk. "It seems unnatural, like going against the natural order of things, like sea animals on land. Dieter Bravo, settled down with one girl? Hell would have to freeze over before that ever happens," she teases.

"I think it could happen," Dieter says matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest as he settles back into his seat.

"What could happen?" Carol asks, her curiosity piqued.

"Settling down. Getting married, perhaps... even starting a family," Dieter replies thoughtfully.

"It would take quite the woman to make 'The Great Lothario' change his ways. Seems like an impossible feat," Carol interrupts, chuckling. "A woman who can stop the great Dieter Bravo from his manwhoring ways? Maybe someone who lives under a rock and doesn't know about your reputation."

"Actually," Dieter interjects, a hint of excitement in his voice. "I think I've met someone recently who's made quite an impression on me."

Carol's eyes widen in surprise. "What do you mean, you think you've met someone? Who is this mysterious girl that's captured your attention, D?"

"Well, she's an actress-"

"Of course," Carol quips with a knowing smirk.

"... she's new. I had the pleasure of meeting her at the MTV Movie-"

"You're not talking about Doll, are you? The woman you groped after meeting her for the first time? Someone even said that they caught you sniffing her! Who does that, Dieter?!"

"I am a connoisseur of all things exquisite and beautiful, ma chérie. She smelled absolutely divine, and I swear her scent lingered on me for days after, I swear, just let me nuzzle my face in between the valley of those luscious tits-"

"God, D. I think they're gonna have to edit this shit out!" Carol mutters, looking embarrassed by Dieter's boldness. She leans towards Dieter. "I thought you signed some embargo with The Shark promising you wouldn't mention her," she whispers in his ears. "Even I wouldn't think to fuck with him-"

"Well, Feldman was my main concern, and now he's facing jail time for all of those underage claims and those leaked photos, so fuck it!" Dieter counters, knowing damn well he worked behind the scenes for it to happen, leaking a few photos he had stored away on his iCloud, kissing himself on the mouth knowing it would come in handy sooner or later.  

AP NEWS ALERT: Hollywood bigshot arrested for leaked inappropriate images from an anonymous source of various actresses, denies all allegations of misconduct.

One asshole down, one Shark to bury next, he thinks to himself, chuckling at the thought. "Besides, I can't get her out of my fucking mind! I've never felt this way about a woman before, Carol, I mean it this time!"

"I mean, she's undeniably beautiful," Carol agrees, "but she's still new to the industry. They've been typecasting her in those romcoms with whatshisname, but I've heard she's pushing for more challenging roles—"

"Cut!" The director's voice slices through the air, his eyes narrowed at them both. "This interview is about promoting Cliff Beasts, not discussing Dieter's love life with some woman."

"Hey, that 'woman'? She's my future wife, so watch your damn mouth," Dieter snaps back, his tone defensive.

"Whoa, D, hold on. Future wife? You barely know her!" Carol interjects, her hand pressed against her chest in disbelief. "Take it easy, baby. Get to know her first, at least."

"It's gonna happen, Carol. I can feel it in my damn bones. I was drawn to her the moment I laid eyes on her," Dieter insists, his confidence unwavering.

"Listen, Casanova, I don't care who you think you're gonna marry, but we're on a tight schedule here!" the director interrupts, frustration evident in his voice. "Stick to the damn questions, and no more talk about your little 'girlfriend.'"

"Fine," Dieter mutters, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of water. "But do me a favor—don't cut out the part about her assets. It'll bring in views like crazy. I did you a favor there."

The director waves him off as he storms away. "Remind me why I took this job knowing this idiot would be here," he mutters to himself, heading back behind the camera.

The day of the (not so thought out) wedding.

Dieter is anxiously bouncing his leg, biting his pinky nail as his groomer meticulously applies another layer of concealer under his darkened eyes. "Jeez D, have you been sleeping at all lately?"

"What?" Dieter asks absentmindedly, running a shaky hand through his curls. "Yeah- I've been sleeping, why?"

“Your under-eyes, D. They’re darker than my fucking soul, man. Didn’t I tell you to lay off on the sauce? I’m on my fourth layer of concealer-“

“It’s nothing,” Dieter says dismissively. “Just… have you ever been in love?” 

"Sure I have," his groomer replies, a small smile on their face. "That's why I'm married, silly. Why?"

"Say you like a girl, and you think that this girl might be interested but then TMZ posts leaked photos of said girl and some beefed up Hollywood hunk "canoodling" with each other while filming their movie together in Canada-"

"This is Doll that we're talking about, correct? The one you groped at the MTV Movie-"

"I DIDN'T GROPE HER!" Dieter exclaims, groaning as he sinks further into his seat. "Why does everyone keep saying that? I was simply giving her a friendly, yet casual hug when she APPROACHED ME-"  He huffs like a petulant child, his arms crossed around his chest in defiance. "Anyway, I thought, after I desperately tried to shoot my shot, let my intentions known in that 'Wired' Interview with Carol, that she would contact me, you know? Maybe slide into my DMs-" 

“Slide into your DMs?” His groomer scoffs, plucking a stray eyebrow hair with their tweezers from his face as he dramatically flinches, narrowing his eyes at them. “You flat out said you wanted to smother your face in the ‘valley of her luscious tits’, I would be surprised if she hasn't filed a restraining order against you yet... Let me give you a bit of advice: Girls want to be romanced, not objectified! ... have you ever had a 'real' girlfriend before, D?"

"Hey! I've had girlfriends, alright?" Dieter groans, frustration evident in his voice as he clenches his fists. "Just because they didn't stick around afterward doesn't mean it was all my fault, okay?"

"The girls you hook up with during your benders and then discard once the high wears off don't exactly qualify as 'real' girlfriends, D! Let's be serious here!"

"That's what I'm trying to be," he whines, "I'm trying SO HARD to be serious for once! I can't get this girl out of my head, and it's been what? Almost a year since I've met her? I can't get my dick hard when I'm with anyone else anymore, I don't want to take drugs, it's like I'm fucking broken or something! ... and now she's off fucking Joe Hollywood over here like I'm not bleeding my fucking heart out for her-"

"Wait, you mean to tell me that you're actually sober right now?"

"Well, yeah. The last time I took something was before filming Cliff Beasts, I thought you knew that. Anyway, it doesn't fucking matter. All of that and she doesn't even notice me."

"Well, I would tell you that if you had bothered to read TMZ this morning instead of sulking, you would know that there are split rumors between this girl and Hollywood neanderthal," His groomer retorts, a shit-eating grin on their face. "It was over before it even began. I mean, I've heard for such a massive man, he has quite the tiny di-"

Dieter perks up at that. "Say that again."

"They've broken up. She's back on the market, silly goose."

"So that means-"

"That means that I'm going to groom the shit out of you and help you out by making her realize just what she's missing out on, D." His groomer replies, massaging his scalp as they make eye contact through the mirror in front of them. "You're lucky that I consider myself a hopeless romantic. If you promise not to break her heart, I'll help you get the girl, ok?"

"Shit, do you think she'll like me?" Dieter says nervously, fidgeting in his seat.  

"Obviously," his groomer replies cryptically, a smirk forming on the corner of their mouth. "I may or may not have some intel from another groomer friend of mine about their supposed breakup."

"Oh?" Dieter perks up, his eyebrow raised in curiosity. "... and what would that intel be?"

"Oh, you know. Someone might have asked their stylist if they think you'll be attending tonight, how she kept trying to be sly about it."

"Doll asked about me?! Are you serious?" Dieter's excitement is palpable.

"Well, according to my friend, the reason why they broke up was that someone might have moaned your name while being eaten out by 'Joe Hollywood' the other day-"

"No fucking way!"

"She's into you, D! I would say that your little ploy during the 'Wired' interview worked more than you think, bud."

Dieter nods, taking the biggest sigh of relief as he settles in his chair. "One last thing, do you groom just the top half of me, or are you open to grooming other places?"

"What do you mean?" his groomer cocks their head to the side.  

"Shit, well... are you open to grooming my nether regions? It's been a while since I've been with a woman, I'm almost full caveman down there-"

His groomer tsks, pulling out their phone. "Dieter, as much as I love you, I don't love you that much. Let me call someone for that, ok?"

A few hours later, on the red carpet.

"Dieter," his publicist says under his breath as they walk down the red carpet. "The cameras are this way, why are you so distracted?"

"I'm looking for someone," Dieter replies as he winks at the sea of paparazzi, flashing them a peace sign as he walks toward the venue's entrance.

"Well, who are you looking for?" His publicist replies impatiently, looking down the red carpet.

"Doll, obviously. Do you know if she's arrived yet?"

His publicist rolls his eyes, sighing. "She arrived about five minutes ago, don't you see her?"

Dieter inhales deeply, his gaze scanning past the vibrant red carpet until it locks onto yours. His breath catches in his chest, surprised by the unexpected connection. You appear taken aback at first, but swiftly compose yourself, subtly angling your body towards him with a seductive smile playing on your lips.

"Holy Shit..." Dieter's mind races with excitement. "She really does want me."

Filled with newfound confidence, he playfully purses his lips in your direction, sending a cheeky kiss your way as his eyebrows wiggle in amusement. A flush of color blooms across your cheeks in response, catching his eye. But as he revels in the moment, he notices The Shark's gaze narrowing in his direction, a whisper passing between him and you.

That's fucking right Shark.  I'm coming for my girl, and there is nothing you can fucking do about it.  

Later, Dieter observes you from across the room as you sit at your table, alone, nursing another glass of champagne. He notices how you try to avoid meeting his gaze, despite catching you stealing glances at him throughout the night when you think he isn't looking. It surprises him to see you being so reserved, so quiet, especially without The Shark hovering around you like a protective dragon guarding its treasure.

What's gotten you so down, babydoll?  he muses, leaning back into his chair. As if you could read his thoughts, your eyes meet from across the room once more, and you quickly look away, smiling to yourself at getting caught looking.

Dieter senses the moment's significance, his heart racing with anticipation. He knows he must seize this opportunity, the perfect moment to step forward and break the barrier between the two of you. With a determined smile, he decides it's time to make his move.

As he rises from his chair, Dieter's confidence swells, fueled by the intensity of the moment. With purposeful strides, he crosses the room, his gaze fixed on you, the anticipation building with each step. This is his chance to bridge the gap, to finally reveal the feelings he's kept hidden for so long.

He draws in another deep breath as he approaches you from behind, mustering his most seductive gaze as he leans in towards your exposed ear, his warm breath grazing your skin.

"I can't help but notice that you've been eye-fucking me the entire night."

He groans softly as he takes a seat in the chair beside yours, hoping to conceal any nerves as he attempts to exude charm. "I guess my little ploy of trying to get your attention with that 'Wired' interview worked out in my favor-"

You respond with a subtle smile, your fingers gracefully tracing the edge of your champagne glass. How does something as simple as that manage to rile me up? he wonders inwardly, returning your smile.

"You know," you say softly, a chuckle escaping you as you shake your head in disbelief, "There are more normal ways to get a girl's attention-"

The longer Dieter spends in your presence, the more he feels himself on edge, the tension mounting with every passing moment. His pulse quickens, and he can't ignore the growing semi in his suit pants. It's astonishing how much you affect him, like a siren calling out for him while lost at sea, lying in wait, ready to bring him to absolute ruin. 

Fuck. Keep it cool, Bravo.

"Ah, but you're America's Sweetheart, and your pitbull of a publicist won't let me near you, I had to let my-" he gulps at the sight of your ample bust, licking his lips in anticipation, "... intentions very clearly known."

"Well," you breathe, chest heaving. "I don't know if it's 'clearly' known," your voice drops to a whisper, like a secret that is shared only between the both of you, two lonely souls amongst a sea of chaos. "I think you're just going to have to spell it out for me."

Dieter, sensing victory, leans back triumphantly, spreading his legs as he subtly encloses you within his space. His dark, smoldering gaze meets your thinly veiled attempt at your best innocent doe eyes... but Dieter sees right through it. He grins widely, reveling in the knowledge that he's the cat about to get all of the cream—your cream.  That's right, babydoll, I've finally caught you, and I'm never going to let you go.

He laughs at the sight of you, his chin motioning to your breasts.  "Do you want to have sex with me, Dollface?"

Your eyes widen, and a small gasp escapes your lips, as you search his gaze, trying to decipher if he's just bullshitting or if he's actually fucking serious.  I'm serious, alright, he chuckles to himself. "If I miscalculated this fucking thing that's going on between us, tell me and I'll fuck off, leave you alone-"

"What if I don't want you to fuck off, and want to tell you that I'm this close to being plastered and that all I kept thinking about tonight is you railing me with that huge cock we both know is aching for me in some deserted hallway-" you challenge, picking your champagne glass for good measure, downing its contents in one swig.  For courage, he thinks. "I would beg to ask you... what's taking you so damn long, Bravo?"

WhatsApp chat between Dieter & Marcus: Dieter: Hey Marcus, are you still in the venue? Marcus: Yes! With your publicist. Did you need something? Dieter: This party blows. Can I borrow your car? Marcus: Oh, did you want me to drive you home? The party just started, Dieter. Dieter: I can drive myself back, stay for the party! Catch a ride with the suits afterward! Get shitfaced, you're officially off the clock! Marcus: Seriously? Do you know how to drive a stick? It's my baby, I don't know if I feel comfortable with you driving it, are you high right now? 🤦‍♂️ Dieter: No, for the last time, I'm fucking clean, man. Just do me a solid and let me borrow your car, I swear I'll give you a fucking raise! What do you want for one night with your baby? Tell me, I'll give you anything! Marcus: Fine. Just tell me what you did with all of that fucking perfume, there"s a bet going on and I would like to shove it in your publicist's face that I know! Dieter: Seriously man? That's all you want? Marcus: Do you want my keys or not, D? Dieter: Fine. I took the fucking perfume, doused my entire bedroom in it, and fucked myself smelling it thinking about Doll. Dieter: Is that enough of an explanation for you? Come the fuck on, man, I need your car! Please! 🙏 Marcus: 🙌 Meet me at the lobby in five. 

"So tell me," Dieter shouts as he peels out of the parking lot, laughing at the delighted squeal that escapes your lips as you throw your head back, your arms raised upward as he turns quickly into the streets of Los Angeles. "How often did you think about me, babydoll?"

You boldly reach over to cup his erection, your small hand wrapping around the tip of it. "As much as I reckon you thought of me, Bravo. Tell me, how often did you come, alone in that massive bed of yours, to the thought of your cock thrusting into my tight pussy?"

"Fuck baby, do you want me to crash this car? It's not mine, you know?"

"Answer the fucking question, Bravo."

"Baby, if you only knew how much I fucking came just thinking about your tits... I don't think you know just what exactly you got yourself into, little girl... but I'll show you just how I thought of you coming on my fat cock, giving me absolutely everything-"

I've been hungry for you, baby, and I'm going to feast on every inch of your body, just you fucking wait-

He cackles like a madman as he peels into the dwindling streets of LA. "Are you hungry, Dollface?" he yells, almost running a red light, his eyes fixed on the glowing In n Out sign in the distance.

"I shouldn't, I have that screen test next week-"

"Fuck the screen test!" he shouts. "The night is young, and you are gorgeous. Let Dieter take care of you, baby... while I still have you in my grasp. I ain't gonna waste a moment I have you in my orbit!"

He pulls into the In n Out parking lot, cutting the engine, and pulls you into his lap, his face immediately diving into the valley between your breasts. "You can suffocate me with these tits and I would die a happy man," he mumbles against your skin, his growl reverberating throughout your entire body like wildfire. "What do you say, Doll? Would you do me the honors?"

"Fuck Dieter," you moan, tipping your head back in pleasure as his tongue teases the edge of your dress covering your breasts. "Grab my tits," you beg, grabbing his hands for good measure. Dieter wastes no time as he grabs the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss, his tongue licking along the seam of your mouth, begging for entrance.  

"Open up for me, baby girl. Let Dieter taste you-" he pleads, and you pull away with him, your hair wrecked and lipstick smeared. Dieter imagines he looks as wrecked as you do, his pupils blown and chest heaving. You pull him into another kiss, sighing into it, your mouth opening slightly. Dieter takes this as a sign to devour you completely, your tongues fighting for dominance as you begin to rock your hot pussy against his thick cock.

"I want to ride you into the sunset, D," you whisper, pulling at his curls harshly. "Are you gonna give me what I want? Or am I going to have to find someone else to do it?"

"Fuck-" Dieter pants, his gaze reaching yours, his mouth agape in awe. "How in the fuck did I get so fucking lucky-"

"Grab my tits, D," you ask once more, moaning and throwing your head back, biting your lower lip as you grind on his throbbing erection. Dieter quickly obliges, his large hands engulfing both of your breasts. His fingertips graze the edge of your dress, the hardness of your nipple pressing into the middle of his palm, and he swears that if he were to be struck down dead right at this moment, he would die a happy man.  

"Shit, I knew that your tits would feel amazing, but you are so fucking soft-"

"Oh yeah?" you tease, your teeth grazing the shell of his ear. "I'm soft in other places, too." You whisper in his ear, and he swears he feels the ghost of your smile as he moves his hands back on your hips, his fingertips squeezing the softness of your ass as he angles his dick where he imagines your clit to be, thrusting into your hot, wet heat. "Fuck, so goddamn soft-" he groans, his tongue licking a wet stripe along the tops of your breasts. "You're fucking everything I never knew I always wanted, baby girl," he praises you honestly, cupping your cheek as he pulls you into another kiss, groaning as your tongue dances with his, leaving him breathless.  

"Am I?" you pant as you wrap your arms around his neck, your pussy dragging along the thick outline of his cock. "You talk like you want to marry me or something-"

"... oh, but I do want to marry you, breed you, keep you locked up in my mansion... you have no idea just how much I've thought about you, these last few months-"

"Dieter! My Man!" someone shouts in the distance. "What the fuck are you doing here?!"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he yells back, "I'm about to fuck this beautiful woman in an In n Out parking lot, what are you doing here?"

"Fuck, can I take a pic, man?" the fan shouts as he approaches the convertible.  

"Don't you see we're a little preoccupied?" you shout at the fan, flicking him off. "Get the fuck out of here!" you shout.

The fan quickly takes a shot of the both of you with his iPhone, a half-hearted apology mumbled out of his mouth as he quickly runs back inside of the restaurant, probably to the group of men who are completely unaware of the two celebrities dry-humping the fuck out of each other in their wake, eating their double-doubles and sneaking sips out of a cup filled with some cheap ass vodka, fist-bumping the night away.

"Are you gonna come in those Gucci pants of yours, D?" you tease, your pace quickening as you ride his dick relentlessly. "How does it feel having America's Sweetheart getting you to come in your pants, baby?"

"Fuck," Dieter pants, his hand wrapping around your neck as he pushes you against the steering wheel, angling the tip of his cock against your clit. "How does it feel to get fucked by The Devil, sweetheart? Your pussy is begging me to just rip those fucking panties off and just claim you, right in front of all of these fucking people-"

You shiver at that, a choked curse and his name out of your mouth as he sees the entirety of your body begin to quiver and shake.  

"Don't fight it, baby, I know you fucking like the attention, I know you want everyone to see how much of a bad fucking girl you are inside... but don't worry, Dieter knows, and I'll help you show them," he pulls you against him harshly, your chest pushed up against his, as his teeth sink at the hollow of your neck. "I'll get the world to see just who you really are, baby. Let me show you the way-"

You scream as he thrusts into you once more as he rips your orgasm out of you violently, crying out into his neck as Dieter explodes into his Gucci trousers, the mixture of your slick and his thick cum making an absolute mess of his loaned suit.  

I guess I'll have to pay for these, Dieter thinks to himself as he cradles your shaking form into his arms, licking away the salty tears running down your face. "You did so good, Doll, don't cry-" he whispers, stroking the back of your head as he tries to get you to calm down. "What do you need, baby?"

You lie quietly against his chest, your breaths falling into rhythm with his, as he assumes you're simply gathering your thoughts. "Baby," he pleads softly, his hands tracing soothing paths along your exposed back. "Please, say something—"

"Marry me," you whisper against his chest, the words barely audible but filled with undeniable certainty.

Dieter freezes, his heart skipping a beat at your unexpected words. For a moment, he's speechless, his mind racing to catch up with the sudden turn of events. Slowly, he lifts his head to meet your gaze, eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

"What did you say?" he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid that speaking any louder might shatter the fragile moment.

You lift your head, meeting Dieter's stunned gaze with unwavering determination. "I said, marry me," you repeat, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart. "Let's take this car and drive it to Vegas, get married by some overweight Elvis impersonator, and book the honeymoon suite at the Cosmo... I don't care how we do it, but let's get fucking married, D!"

Dieter's mind whirls with a mix of emotions—astonishment, disbelief, and a profound sense of joy. He blinks several times, as if trying to confirm that he's not dreaming, before a wide grin spreads across his face.

"Oh, my God," he breathes, his voice trembling with emotion. "Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes."

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@daydream-believer19@survivingandenduring@darkheartgatita @gobaaby-blog-blog

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[morallyinept]

Close Encounters Of The Grocery Kind - A Dieter Bravo One Shot 👽

Written for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub May Drabble Challenge. Featuring the line "Do you believe in aliens?" 👽

Summary: You meet an eccentric man whilst late night grocery shopping.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x GN!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 1k

Scoville Smut Rating: None, it's fluff. You're safe.

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/Triggers: Eating cereal without milk, does that count as a trigger? 😋

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: Hope you enjoy this zany lil' meet cute! 👽

MAIN MASTERLIST | DIETER BRAVO MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

In the fluorescent-lit aisles of the grocery store, Dieter shuffles worn and tired along, in what can only be described as, his most comfortable attire - a stretched t-shirt and a pair of patterned pyjama pants hanging low and loose, finished with a green untied robe and crocs.

He intends for this grocery run to be a quick late-night snack grab, something to satisfy the munchies from smoking blunts in the pool all day, but as he scans the shelves, his eyes land on a display of space-themed cereals.

He reaches for a box labelled Star Bitz, containing frosted star shapes. Opening the box and plastic liner, he reaches in and takes a handful, crunching them around his teeth and groans uncouthly in delight at the sugar rush.

It elicits a curious look from you further down the aisle, mid-shop and looking just as dishevelled, having gotten off a long shift.

The man greets you with a mischievous grin, sizing you up with his sleepy eyes.

"Uh, hi," Dieter manages, straightening up a little. “Don’t worry, I’m going to pay.”

“I’m not worried,” you assure.

“You want some?” He offers out the box to you, smirking. You reach in when he shakes the box and tempts you further.

"Do you believe in aliens?" Dieter asks, licking round his teeth.

“I’m sorry?” You remark, trying to process the unexpected question.

He points a ringed index finger at your chest. “Your shirt.”

You look down at the tee with a cartoon alien faded across it and arch an eyebrow, your gaze flickering between the man’s pyjama pants and the box of cereal he so casually munches in his hand.

"Well, I've never met one personally,” you say.

Dieter chuckles. "There’s a conspiracy about lizard people secretly running the government.”

“It’s not a conspiracy. They’re all reptiles.” You confirm.

He snorts in appreciation, large hands rummaging in the box and tossing more frosty stars in his mouth.

"So, do you always go grocery shopping in your pyjamas?" You query, a twinkle in your eyes.

Despite his unkempt appearance, there’s something rather appealing about him. A scruffy, tired attractiveness around tan skin, pink puffy eyes and wild, greying curls.

Dieter grins, feeling a flush rise to his cheeks. "Only when I'm in dire need of snacks and comfort."

You simply nod and glance back at the shelves with your arm looped through your basket.

“You don’t know who I am, do you?” He questions as he watches your nonchalance whilst you inspect ingredient labels.

“Should I?”

“No. I'm nobody really.”

You watch as he lingers behind you as you move up the aisle.

“Escaped mental patient?” You query with a smirk.

He shakes his head. “I’m straight edge. Promise.”

You pick up milk and some other essentials, and Dieter audibly tuts when you chuck a few instant meals for one in the basket.

“What?” You ask with mirth.

“Watch your sodium intake.”

“I think I’ll fare much better than the amount of sugar in that box…” you nod to the cereal he’s still eating.

Chuckling, he continues to talk to you, following you down the aisles until your basket is full and you both head towards the checkout.

"Hey, um, do you maybe wanna grab a bite to eat?" He blurts out, his heart pounding in his chest.

You smile as he dumps his open box of cereal on the conveyor belt behind your shopping.

"I'd love to. But only if you promise to wear your pyjamas." You say, eyeing his comfy attire.

Dieter grins, feeling a surge of excitement. "How about now?”

“Sure.” You smile.

He pays for the cereal, leaving the cashier eyeing him with a flicker of recognition, when he puts his finger to his lips and snickers, following you out the automatic doors.

Once at your car, you watch as Dieter sits on the bonnet and taps for you to join him. He takes the milk out of your grocery bag, unscrews it and pours some over the cereal.

You laugh when he simply pulls a spoon out from one of his gown pockets.

“You always carry that around with you?”

“Never know when you might need one.” He shrugs.

“You’re very odd.” You smile as you dip into the cereal box.

“I’ve been called worse.” Dieter remarks. He looks up at the dark sky and sighs.

The cool night air wraps around you both, carrying the faint scent of gasoline and asphalt.

"So, space," you say, your eyes scanning the star-studded sky above. "What's your take on it?"

Dieter leans back against the car, gazing up at the vast expanse of darkness dotted with pinpricks of light.

"It's... mind-blowing, you know? The sheer size of it all. It hurts my head to think about it.” He pauses and frowns. “You ever wish you could be insignificant?"

“I already am.” You smile, handing him the cereal.

He scoffs looking at you, a gold hoop in his ear glimmers, catching the light from a car pulling into the parking lot.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly.

You baulk. “You want to kiss me? I don’t even know your name or where you’re from…”

“Dieter. Sherman Oaks. So, can I kiss you now?” He says, scratching under his chin. A patchy beard and moustache lines his jaw and upper lip, and you’re drawn to it, wondering if it’ll feel soft or scratchy.

“Well, odd Dieter from Sherman Oaks, you can kiss me. On one condition.”

“Always a catch…”

You plonk the box of cereal on the ground, shuffling closer as he sits up.

“You’ll like this catch.”

“Will I?” He smirks as you lean in, grabbing the lapels of his soft corduroy gown. He smells faintly herbal and minty.

“You promise that once you kiss me, you won’t stop.”

Dieter bites his lip, his eyes dropping to yours and then back up to your eyes again.

“I promise.” He confirms, smiling, as your lips brush together, both moaning into each other’s mouths.

Thank you so much for reading & I really hope you enjoyed this lil' Dieter drabble. If you did, please consider re-blogging so others can enjoy it too. Thank you! 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | DIETER BRAVO MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo x gn!reader #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo the bubble #jett's writing

[dieterbravobrainrotclub]

Join us in a Dieter Bravo drabble challenge!

We would love to extend our May drabble challenge out of server for anyone who might like to participate!

PROMPT: “Do you believe in aliens?”

TROPE: meet-cute

RULES:

-Fic should be 1k or less words.

-Must feature Dieter Bravo.

-Other characters can be included (e.g. reader, oc, other Pedro characters).

-Post to tumblr and/or ao3 any time in the month of May.

-Please appropriately tag any warnings when posting.

-Tag us at @dieterbravobrainrotclub or send us a link to the work so we can reblog and share it!

We look forward to seeing your creations!!

#Dieter Bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo brainrot club #creative challenge #drabble challenege

[sp00kymulderr]

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x afab!reader

Warnings: 18+. Sickly sweet fluff, unspoken love, kissing, mentions of sex

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Dieter wakes up to you.

A/N: comments and reblogs forever appreciated! To follow for fic updates only go to @sp00kyupdates​ or see taglist details on my masterlist. Credit to banner maker.

It’s early. Too early to fathom. The breezy white curtains of the hotel room are thin and through them shines just a slither of dawn light. There’s the beginnings of the cheeping of birds outside of the window - left open to peter out the stuffy air in the room from last night. It had been hot, so hot, he’d cracked a window open just to cool the burning skin a little. It hadn’t helped.

Dieter raises his head from where it is buried between the pillow and your shoulder and groans softly, his eyes squinting and his head banging as soon as he lifts it just a little.

“D…” he hears you murmur when you feel him stir and it’s enough to make him drop his head and bury his face down against your neck and shoulder. His scruff tickles and his breath is hot. You make a little noise of annoyance that’s so damn cute to him and Dieter smiles against your skin but doesn’t move.

For a while he is still and closes his eyes again, just breathing you in. You smell of sex, of him, and fuck if he’s going to be able to fall asleep again when he realises that. He feels his stomach tighten in arousal and kisses your neck lightly. You mutter something unintelligible again and roll away from him on to your side.

“Too early” you finally say gently, dozy and sweet and perfect.

Dieter grumbles slightly but doesn’t push it. Instead he moves on to his back and stares up at the ceiling when he slowly opens his eyes.

God, his head hurts. Last night had been a whirlwind; it had started with booze, and ended with the hottest sex of his life. The middle was murky but he knew for sure that it had been something sensational, like every moment with you.

He listens to your soft breath as you sleep and that sweet noise calms him to no end. You’re so fucking beautiful it makes him ache. The words don’t get to be said out loud, but Dieter knows his heart beats faster for you and your touch. His jittery brain jumbles words like ‘like’ and ‘want’ and ‘love’ and ‘soulmate’ in ways that he thinks might scare you off, so they’re kept secret in his never-quiet mind.

There’s a lot between the two of you but it’s always been kind of foggy; a random hookup at a boring after party that turned into occasional booty calls and eventually whatever this is - monthly check-ins to a hotel in the nearest location you could meet for uninterrupted weekends of euphoria. 

And it is euphoric. Sure he’s been dramatic once or twice, but there’s no exaggeration in that thought as he ponders last night and what he can remember of it. His eyes squint as the blurry memory becomes a little clearer in his head; you bent over the useless little hotel desk; that would explain all the stationary on the floor. Him on his knees between your spread legs for so long; which he supposes is why they ache now. There’s wine stains on the table, the bottle knocked over in the eager moment of finding the bed between molten hot kisses. Starlit memories flit in deep purple plumes through his cloudy mind; your warm body on his, your pretty lips pressing against his throat, the drag of teeth and tongue against his burning skin. 

He smiles at the flickering memory. You enticing him all angelic on the pristine white bed sheets that now lay bunched around you and partially hanging off the bed. Your face half-pressed against those sheets when he’d had you from behind. Yeah, he remembered that. You practically drooling onto the bedding as he turned you into a beautiful mess. His favourite masterpiece. But you’d had your payback on him not long after, the torturously slow roll of your hips - your hands grasping hard enough to mark as you leaned back and rode him slowly til he was near tears.

There are wet towels on the hotel room floor. He thinks for a moment, hand absentmindedly reaching down to where he feels himself twitching with the memory. Yeah, there had been a shower after that…an attempt to cool down and calm down, but it had ended in another untamed encounter - you held up against the cool tiles of the shower wall, legs wrapped around him, desperate and aching until he made you cry in pleasure. No wonder his back hurts today, but it all seems worth it at the memory of your face as he’d made you come again.

He feels unstoppable with you.

Dieter looks down at you now, your peacefully sleeping form making the sweetest little noises in your slumber. God, he feels privileged to get this view of you. It’s better than anything; no awards or good script or large sum of money compares to the thrill of you. He’d throw every single damn trophy away as a way to show you how much you meant. You'd just laugh at that though, you would give him that brilliant smile, and tell him he was an idiot. He couldn’t argue on that.

He blinks his eyes awake a little more and turns on to his side, facing you. He can never fight the urge to be close to you. He doesn’t get enough time with you. It’s never been talked about but he ponders on the future as the orange glow of sunlight starts to flood through the gaps in the curtains. 

He has to touch you, it’s like he’s scared he’ll forget what you feel like if he goes too long. Your warm skin makes that familiar yet unspeakable feeling flutter in him. Dieter’s fingers run a gentle line from your shoulder and down your side, tracing the curves your body has. He is enraptured. Has been since the first moment. It probably isn’t healthy, all things considered.

All things considered. He’s not in the position to have a real relationship - flitting from spot to spot, taking job after job, like he has something to prove in his career. He does. Besides, you’d never made a mention of making things more. 

Not a mention, but there were moments in your kiss that he felt things were already at that more. Whatever that meant.

Even if it isn’t a relationship you take it seriously, every moment with him. You take him seriously and god it’s like a breath of fresh air after all the people in his past who wanted him for reasons that were not him. You listen, you care, you want to hear about his thoughts and ideas and his art, not just gossip and get wasted and use him as some show of status. Whatever this thing is, it isn’t just some silly fling for either of you. It’s special, it’s important. Always had been, always will be. He’d like to keep this thing going forever, he’d never let it end. 

Lost in his thoughts, Dieter doesn’t notice you stir until your entrancing voice mumbles out.

“Daydreaming, pretty boy?” 

He turns to look and gives you a lopsided smile. Your hair is a mess and there’s smudged mascara under your eyes. Still gorgeous. Always gorgeous, he thinks.

It's like the breath comes back to him fresh and full as he sees you half-awake and there with him. You're mesmerizing when you're sleeping by his side, tucked up in your dream world, but you're dazzling when you're awake and real and there with him. Sometimes the glassy flit of his gaze upon you makes him feel like he's high, just off your presence. No one’s ever done that before.

"Daydreaming..." he sighs, leaning down to nuzzle tenderly against your cheek and give you a gentle kiss now that you're hopefully more receptive to it. 

"Yeah? About me?" You ask with that cute smile that had first enticed him, the one that tells a whole story of who you are.

"You..." he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then to your temple, "Last night..." he adds in a lazy low hum, his lips landing back on yours with something that is far more precious than either of you can give word to.

"Last night" You sigh, stretching your tired and still achy body, noticing his eager glance as the sheet pulls down over the swell of your breasts.

He sees a bite mark left on you from him and gives a groan, half hard and fully wanting, but too tired to act on it.

"C'mere" you mumble, laying a hand on his shoulder and pulling him down fully. His head lands softly to rest on your chest facing away from your head, and the tickle of his breath on your skin makes you sigh. He gives a happy huff as he watches your nipples harden against his warm breath.

"Had fun last night, baby" You tell him, gentle, as your fingers trail up the nape of his neck and through his untamed hair. He moans a little as you massage very slowly against his scalp with the tips of your fingers.

The touch of his hand on your stomach makes you shiver pleasantly, and he rests it on your lower belly with no intention of taking it anywhere else right now. Just skin-on-skin. 

Just you and him.

Dieter is happy like this. Cared for. Made for you, in ways. He's molded to you, to the feeling of you with him. It doesn't happen enough. You linger on his skin for weeks on end and yet Dieter never has enough of you. He wanders through his life from point to point waiting for his next dose. He's alive when with you. Resting in between.

"What if we stay another day?" He mutters, unmoving as your fingertips stay sweetly pressing on his scalp.

"Baby...we both have work to go back to. You know I can't do more than a weekend" You tell him, but he knows you well enough now to note the hesitancy in your voice when you deny him.

"Fuck 'em" Dieter says with resolution "We can be sick. Laid up in bed. We can spend the whole day like this, then it’s hardly a lie. I’ll get that desert from room service, your favourite"

Your hum of contemplation is soft against his ear, a melody that eases the headache from the excitement of last night.

"The one with the cherries?" You ask, and he doesn't even need to look at you to know there's that pretty little smile on your lips again.

He turns anyway, kissing the tops of your breasts goodbye before he sits up and faces you again. He feels the sparkle of hope bubble in him. One more day this time…maybe next time he can convince you to stay at his place. Stay for a week.

Stay forever.

“The one with the cherries” He repeats, swiping his thumb over your cheek to remove the smudge of makeup there. 

You grin and nod and Dieter’s heart does a little stutter. Another day with you, that’s all he could want.

“Okay. One more day” It’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said, in his ears. Plays like a symphony.

Dieter doesn’t answer with words, expression breaking out into a bright smile - not the one he shows on red carpets but the real one - the one that’s a little lopsided, a little dopey. The one that’s just for you, now.

He lays back down beside you and kisses sweet and familiar against your neck. Your skin tastes like sweat and him as he trails down between the valley of your breasts, a subtle nip of teeth right next to that mark he left last night. His movements are slow, lazy, loving.

A tapestry of adoration laid against your skin as he listens to your slow breath above him.

"Dieter" You whine quiet, tugging on his hair just slightly. 

He travels back up with lips and tongue desperate to taste every peak and dip of you. Kisses your chin and then nibbles it with his teeth before you’re pushing him to how you want him.

He smiles at your insistence to move him, pushing him back onto his side of the bed and directing him to lie on his side, so you can wrap yourself around him. Protective. Affectionate.

He feels the press of your breasts against his back, as you mold your shape into his, holding him close with that familiar feeling of your hand over his heart. It beats surprisingly slowly, he's suddenly hit with the weariness of an early morning after a late night, of too much of everything but never enough of it.

The kiss you leave between his shoulder blades before you nuzzle your head there makes him sigh out loud, something happy and breathy and true.

"Another day. Just one more" You tell him again, eyelashes fluttering against his skin and it makes him want to cry, just a little when your breath gets soft again as you hold him like you want to keep him safe from everything.

One day there'll be more than just another day. You know it, it's in the way you tenderly lay yourself against him with arms wrapped tight like you'll never let go. He knows it, it's in the way his breath comes easy only when he has you by his side.

He's yours. Given to you, his own heart. Dieter doesn't think the words even need to be said, just felt. Just like this.

#Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #dieter bravo smut #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #I'm not sure I like this but I'm throwing it out there and running away

[covetyou]

seeded

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo & gn!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: no explicit smut but references to the following - tentacles, monster/alien fucking, cum inflation, mpreg, masturbation. also, pregnancy anxiety. word count: 979 summary: Dieter Bravo believes in aliens. Do you?

A/N: happy slightly early birthday to the gorgeous @sp00kymulderr for tomorrow - adore you 💛. in honour of you there is also a slight mention of just a touch because that lives rent free in my head.

for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub May drabble challenge - I make my own rules so I didn't include meet-cute (I accidentally wrote this, so I can't be blamed for excluding it) quote: "Do you believe in aliens?" trope: meet-cute follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

"Do you believe in aliens?"

It wasn't the first time he'd asked you this question. It probably wouldn't be the last either, knowing him, and so you answer in the same way you did that very first time so long ago.

"Yes, Dee," you say, looking at him over your laptop screen, the ghost of his rammed summer calendar still burned into your retinas as he comes into focus. Due on a new set in a few weeks, and with his filming schedule just through this morning, you'd spent the last few hours scrambling to put his life together while yours chaotically whirls out of control, ignored, in the background.

Dieter, oblivious as ever to the state of your life, has shuffled into your direct line of sight with coffee cup in hand, robe open and soft belly on display.

"Right..." he starts, before drifting off to look down at his hands as a concerned look takes over his face.

"You have that dream again?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. It's a dream he has every few months, seems like he has for most of his life. You're about as familiar with it as he is by now. Dieter Bravo will dream of some kind of elaborate alien abduction, usually involving him being dragged up by a beam of light into some extraterrestrial spacecraft. Most often it's pretty benign - occasionally he'd be abducted and never seen again, once or twice it's been pretty gruesome, sometimes he even wakes up having thoroughly enjoyed himself. You can't quite work out what has happened this time though, as his face flicks between concerned and softly dazed.

"No," he says quickly.

"You're a shit liar, Dee."

Closing your laptop - you need the break anyway - you look at him, properly, and see his hand has moved from itching his stomach, to gently caressing it.

Oh no. No. Not this again.

"Dieter."

"Do you think I could be-"

"No, Dieter," you start, standing to approach him like you're approaching a skittish deer. "I don't think you're pregnant." - it sounds stupid to even say it out loud - "I believe in aliens, I do not believe you've been abducted, or probed, or inseminated. I think you had a very nice, or very horrible, dream and now you've woken up confused. Drink your coffee."

Dieter dutifully takes a slurp from the mug in his hand, nodding to you like he's holding onto your every word. Because sometimes, he does. Sometimes you rule Dieter Bravo's world, and he gladly lets you. Take that, alien overlords.

Another deep breath and Dieter's shoulders relax, falling from the tense position he'd held them in. He'd quite liked the idea of being impregnated by an otherworldly lifeform when you first met him. You'd been working for him for a few weeks and, perhaps regrettably, still hadn't established the boundaries you have now. After one of his more sedate parties, you sat with him giggling on his patio. Soon you were both agreeing that the deep sea was much more terrifying than deep space, and a three, two, one later you'd simultaneously exclaimed your belief in aliens. Dieter, naturally, took it one step further, and once you'd got onto the topic of tentacles you knew you were done for, even then. You learnt a lot about what Dieter Bravo would do given the chance to fuck an alien that night, and none of it sounded remotely romantic or sanitary. It barely sounded safe. You're not sure a human could even physically contain the amount of fluid he was talking about. Still, amongst the thoughts of all that mess you definitely stopped breathing at some point, and when he finally got up with a slap to his bare thighs you'd all but scurried home just to make yourself come to the thoughts he planted in your head. It was safe to say Dieter Bravo liked aliens.

"But what if I was," his hand comes to his stomach again, resting below his belly button as his eyes go wide. "I don't know what I'd do."

The worry on his face is almost funny. Almost, because you're the one who has to deal with it, and that makes it not very funny at all. For a moment, you have to humor him, tell him what he wants to hear so he calms down and leaves you alone, and that feels sillier than anything. Which is saying something. You've chased this man through the house, high out of his mind two minutes before a video interview, wearing nothing but a sock on his dick.

"You'd be fine, Dee. You have plenty of space for alien babies in this place. We could get a nanny too, and you can more than afford to take a little time off work. It'd be okay."

"You promise? You'd help?"

"Promise. I'll help look after your alien babies, Dee."

"Okay, cool, because I am not ready to be a mom."

He shuffles off again before you can say anything else, his shaggy head disappearing around a corner just before you hear him flop down on the couch in the other room. You don't need to see him to know exactly what he's doing right now. It's the same thing he does whenever he flops onto that couch. He'll put his coffee down and then scratch his balls a little before simply resting his hand there. Sometimes it devolves into something a little more handsy - the man can tease himself for hours - but sometimes he's comforted just holding his own balls for a little while. The issue always is, you never know which way it's going to go, so before he gets too distracted, you shout through to him from your little corner of his house.

"Hey, Dee?"

"Yeah?"

"Want me to get you a pregnancy test?"

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x gn!reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble fanfiction #coveted fics #dieter bravo brainrot club

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Closed Position: Week 3 (Cha Cha Part 2)

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

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

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

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

Chapter Word Count: 17.6k

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

👉 Chapter Warnings: Dieter being Dieter. Gratuitous use of the "f" word and talk about Dieter’s member. Cat and Plant dad Dieter cuteness. Brief mentions of intimate partner violence (more protective Dieter).

Chapter Quote: “I think I just became the bitch of a seven pound menace.”

Dieter’s POV

This week had been a fucking roller coaster. It started off with a bizarre production meeting with Stacia and Joe. I couldn’t believe they asked Kat and me to be flirty for the cameras, knowing she was engaged to someone else who is part of the cast. It was beyond inappropriate. Honestly, it pissed me off and I wasn’t OK with it. I didn’t like the position it would put her in. 

They hadn’t been wrong about Kat standing out during the group performance. It was obvious to anyone who had eyes and I honestly felt proud of her. After the way Stacia had acted when I requested Kat as my partner, like she wasn’t that great of a dancer, it was almost like a big ‘fuck you’ to her. I loved every second of it and was feeling a little smug as they talked about putting Kat in the spotlight. It took everything in me not to rub it in.

The lunch with Kat that followed was an interesting experience. We really hadn’t got to spend a lot of time talking about things other than dancing up to this point. The lunch was a welcome break to have other conversations. I appreciated that she seemed interested in my hobbies. My plant hobby wasn’t something that I really got to discuss with people, so it was refreshing. I also got to learn about her plans for opening a dance studio after this season ends. I could tell she wasn’t looking forward to giving up competitions, but she seemed legitimately excited about her next steps. I was excited for her, and honestly, I couldn’t wait to see what she came up with. I knew whatever she did would be amazing.

During our first rehearsal for the Cha Cha, I found myself spiraling. Especially when we started putting the dance together. I knew the Latin dances had more of a flirty and sexual feel to them and I tried to mentally prepare myself for that ahead of time. However, I was not prepared for the way Kat was moving her hips, especially when she was doing it with her backside essentially rubbing up against my dick. When I told her I didn’t want to make an ass of myself, I was referring to the fact that it was taking everything in me to keep little bravo from standing at full attention and poking her from behind. I couldn’t focus and I couldn’t relax. It was literal torture. I was obviously going to have to figure out how to deal with that or we were going to have a problem going forward. I’m not even sure how I made it through rehearsals that day. 

I was shocked when a text from Kat popped up on my phone later that evening. I was even more shocked when she said we were going to a Latin dance club. I tried to play it off with jokes, but internally I was falling apart. I spent the evening standing in my closet staring at my clothes. I had no fucking clue what to wear to a Latin dance club. I ended up texting my stylist around 10:30 PM, begging her to tell me what to wear. I was relieved when she said she would have a few things sent over the next day.

I had an appointment with my therapist very early the next morning. The first topic of the day was how things were going with Kat. I lied through my teeth, wanting to change the subject. I was not ready to unpack my feelings for Kat with Dr. Smith. Mostly because I was afraid of what she would have to say about it. I’m not sure Dr. Smith believed a word I said. She gave me a skeptical look when I changed the subject, but let me continue without coming back to that topic. I did notice her jotting down some notes though. I had a feeling it was going to come back to bite me later. I knew my feelings were wrong and that I shouldn’t be having them, but I couldn’t help it. I felt like it was out of my control at this point. I had tried so fucking hard to ignore it and I was still trying but failing. Some of it was physical, obviously, but the more time I spent with Kat the more I was drawn to her personality. I had never felt anything like this before and could not even begin to understand what it meant. I just wanted to pack it away and worry about it later. 

I had a photo shoot with some fancy men’s fashion magazine after that. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure which one. It was the last thing I wanted to be doing, but I needed any job I could get. I still had to prove that I had my shit together and could show up and work without issue. It was also part of rehabilitating my image. The new and improved stylish Dieter Bravo. People in Hollywood talked, so it was important that I was present mentally and physically for this. I did my best to smile and be engaged with everyone, but it all felt forced. However, everyone seemed happy with the final product, so I took that as a win. At least it kept my mind distracted from what Kat and I were doing later. 

When I got home, I found that my stylist had dropped off several items of clothing for our outing. I went with what looked the most comfortable. Luckily it was mostly light fabrics, so I wouldn’t burn up. I really only needed to change clothes since I had already showered, and my hair was styled from the shoot. That left me with an hour to do absolutely nothing except get myself worked up into a frenzy. The minutes were dragging on agonizingly slow, and my mind was already going to places that it shouldn’t be. I wondered what Kat would be wearing and if she was going to be moving the way she had been during rehearsals the day before. The thought of her rubbing up against me again was already making me hard. 

I paced around my bedroom, begging my dick to calm the fuck down. Nothing was working. The only resolution I could come up with was to take care of it. I had been avoiding doing this because every time, my thoughts would wander to Kat. I didn’t want to think about her that way, worried that it would open up a door that I was frantically trying to hold closed.

I huffed out a quiet “fuck it” under my breath before quickly undressing and grabbing a t-shirt off the floor that I had slept in and crawled onto the bed. I found a bottle of lube in the nightstand drawer and went for it. I didn’t even try to keep the thoughts of Kat away this time - the way she would bite her lip and look at me through her lashes, the way it felt when she touched me while we were dancing, the way her hips moved. I imagined how she would look moving her hips like that on top of me and how fucking amazing she would feel wrapped around me. That was all it took to send me over the edge. I felt like a fucking teenager who was unable to control his load with how fast I came into my dirty t-shirt over the mental image of her writhing on top of me.  

I laid there with my eyes closed for a few minutes, trying to come down from the high I was still riding, but the images and thoughts kept coming. I couldn’t stop them now. I wondered how she was when it came to sex. Would she prefer it to be slow and sensual or did she have a wild side? Something told me it was a little bit of both, and I was one hundred fucking percent on board with that. Within minutes, I was hard again. Jesus fucking Christ what is wrong with me? It had to be a new record because it never happened that quickly. Was it because I had been denying myself? Or was it because of Kat? Maybe both? 

I looked at the clock, realizing I had to leave in 30 minutes. I sighed loudly, aware that this little problem wasn’t going away on its own. It was already almost painful. So, I went for round two and hoped that it got whatever the fuck this was out of my system. 

Twenty minutes later I was a sweaty mess, standing in front of a fan trying to cool off after having one of the most intense orgasms I can recall having from masturbating. Then again, I had probably been too high in the past to remember the majority of them, so that didn’t say much. Once my heart rate calmed down, I moved to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to dry myself off some. I didn’t have time for a shower, so I threw on some more deodorant and cologne and hoped for the best. At least my hair still looked decent. 

I somehow made it to the dance studio a few minutes early. I sat in the car waiting for Kat. I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes, feeling strangely calm and focused. I hoped I could maintain this mood for the rest of the evening - the rest of the week even. I just needed time to desensitize myself to the intimacy and close proximity that we were being forced into this week. Once I did that, I would be able to handle anything. I had to. 

I was startled from my thoughts by Kat opening the passenger side door. She laughed loudly over my reaction and it was the most beautiful sound. I could listen to her laugh all day. Then I took in what she was wearing, a simple knee length black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. It was the sexiest thing I had ever seen, and she wasn’t even showing that much skin. 

I appreciated that she thought to warn me about the bar during the drive to the club. Most people wouldn’t have considered that. I figured there would be alcohol and other substances floating around, but oddly enough, those things were not even on my radar. I wasn’t lying to her when I said it was a non-issue because I would be distracted. I just fibbed about what my distraction would be. My thoughts were only of her, and I knew they would be for the rest of the night. 

The club was as expected, the same as any other. Kat wasted no time pulling me onto the dance floor. I was hesitant at first, worried about the possible involuntary reactions my dick might decide to have. Any hesitation I had dissipated when Kat grabbed my face and forced me to focus on her. There was something familiar about the way she was looking at me that I couldn’t place as she urged me to become one with her and the music - to relax and trust her. It drew me in, igniting that connection that we shared. The connection that I had been fighting so hard this week. After that, I was surprised to find that my worries ended up being a non-issue. I had to laugh to myself, realizing the only thing I had been needing to do was beat little Bravo into submission, for tonight at least.

The longer we danced, the more at ease I became. It felt like we were just two friends having a good time together. It seemed a little flirty, but that was the general atmosphere, and it came with this type of dancing. I knew that and tried not to dwell on it much. When Kat broke away and suggested a water break, I noticed she had an odd look on her face. I wanted to ask if something was wrong, but decided not to, figuring she was probably just tired. She had been going all day after all. She offered to go grab us some bottles of water. She didn’t have to say it, but I knew she was making an effort to keep me away from the bar, which I appreciated. The last thing I needed was to be photographed near one.

I was surprised when a few fans approached and asked for pictures while I waited for Kat to return. In the past, I had been kind of an asshole to fans, and I knew it. So, I tried to make it a good experience for them. They seemed just excited to see Kat when she joined us. They had actually been fun to talk to and it ended up being a humbling reminder that they were the reason I had the life that I did. It made me appreciate my choice to get sober even more.  

Once Kat and I got back on the dance floor, I could feel something shifting between us. She had that familiar look on her face again and it was stirring something inside of me. After a few songs, it finally hit me. It was the same look she had in the video I had watched of her and Alec dancing. She never had it with any of her other partners from what I had seen. 

This realization sent my mind spiraling. Now that I had picked up on it, I couldn’t stop looking at her eyes. There was fire blazing in them as she looked back at me, but there was something else there too. Conflict? Confusion? The intensity of it only seemed to increase the longer we went on. I could feel the air crackling between us so strongly that it was making me dizzy. I was almost afraid to think about it, but my gut told me that she was feeling something for me too. 

When I playfully dipped her backward, I couldn’t help admiring her neck as her hair slid off it. For the first time, I dared to wonder what it would be like to kiss her there. As I pulled her upward, our eyes locked. I knew I should look away, but I couldn’t. She rested her forehead against mine as her hand gently caressed my cheek. I could feel her hot breath blowing over my lips as we lingered there. I really thought she was going to kiss me, until she suddenly turned to walk away. I didn’t want to let go, allowing my hands to trail down her body as she moved toward the edge of the dance floor. What the fuck just happened? 

And just like that, the spell was broken. When she turned back toward me, she was smiling, but her eyes were guarded, and the fire was nearly extinguished. It wasn’t completely gone though, I could still see it simmering under whatever composure she thought she had gained. I gave her a big smile, relishing my new discovery. 

I wasn’t surprised when she suggested we leave after that. The atmosphere of this place was chipping away at the thin wall that both of us had put up. If we stayed, that wall was going to crumble, fast. 

I didn’t hesitate to take her hand as she led us out of the club. I was having sort of a “fuck it” moment and throwing caution to the wind when it came to touching her. I wasn’t even sure if I could stop myself at this point. We took a minute to take some selfies with fans on our way out. I kept at least one hand on her throughout that. The whole ride back to the studio I did manage to restrain myself since I had no reason to touch her while I was driving. I wanted more than anything to take her hand or rest mine on her thigh. I was dumbfounded by this sudden urge. It wasn’t one that I had before. I usually shied away from any type of physical touch unless I was having sex with someone. Even then, it wasn’t affectionate. It was for pleasure. Affection just wasn’t something I had had a lot of in my life and it wasn’t something I ever wanted. Until now. 

When we got back to the studio and found Alec waiting outside, my stomach dropped. I had a really bad feeling about leaving Kat alone with him because he looked angry and a little inebriated. When she told me to go inside, I hesitated, but felt like I couldn’t just stand there. So, I went inside and got changed, realizing that I had left my sneakers in the car when I didn’t find them in my gym bag. At least I had a good excuse to go outside and make sure she was OK. 

As I walked out the front entrance, my eyes immediately sought Kat out. My gaze found her just as Alec shoved her against the wall, causing her head to smack against the brick. I didn’t hesitate to go to her and shove him out of the way. I had never wanted to cause harm to someone so much in my life. It was taking everything in me not to crush his fucking face in with my bare hands, but Kat came first, and I needed to make sure she was unharmed. I’m sure my attentiveness to her only pissed Alec off further, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to bow down to his ego anymore. 

I decided to try and diffuse the situation, for Kat’s sake, but that didn’t go as planned. I couldn’t say I was really surprised that Alec tried to hit me. I saw the look in his eyes and the way his hand balled up before he threw the punch. I was surprised by my reaction to it though. I’m pretty sure I closed my eyes as I flinched away from his fist, but somehow still managed to hit him pretty damn hard right in the nose. Hard enough that my hand was burning afterward. The satisfaction that I got from seeing his busted up face was well worth it. 

When Alec called out for Kat to leave with him, I could feel every muscle in my body tense. There was no way I was letting her go. I couldn’t. I would hit him again before I let that happen. I was relieved when he didn’t try to fight it and left without further issue. As soon as he was safely out of our vicinity, I pulled Kat into a tight hug. I needed to check her over again - make sure she was really OK. Of course, she brushed away my concern in place of her own as she looked over my hand. 

I realized she needed something else to focus on so that she didn’t fall apart. So, I let her take care of me. It didn’t stop me from looking her over again as she dug through the first aid kit. I could see her hands trembling as she rummaged around for supplies. Physically she seemed fine, but I knew her emotions were all over the place. I could tell she was in a fragile state, and it was breaking my heart. For the first time I noticed that this sweet and beautiful person was so fucking broken on the inside. She had done well to hide it, but the cracks were there, and I was finally seeing them. I wanted nothing more than to make her feel better and keep her safe. I wanted her to be mine and I wanted to take care of her the way she deserved. 

I knew it was a bad idea to put my feelings out into the world right now, so I didn’t. I did, however, want her to know that I was here for her and that I was willing to help in any way she needed. It was all I could offer, but it seemed to be enough. For now. Even though I didn’t tell her how I felt about her, I did share what I thought about Alec. I could only hope she would consider my words and make the right choice for her own well being. I had already decided that I would be there for her through it, no matter what, I just hoped she would let me.

I spent all night tossing and turning, worried about whether Kat was safe. She had texted that she got home safely and was locked in, but that didn’t do anything to relieve my anxiety. I was up before my alarm went off the next morning, in a rush to get to the studio just so I could lay eyes on her. Then I realized me getting there sooner didn’t mean she would get there sooner. I grabbed my phone, found her name in my contacts, and typed out a quick text. 

Me: Want me to pick you up some breakfast with your coffee? Muffin? Cheese Danish? Kit Kat? 😏 (smirk emoji). 

It was my sneaky ass way of making sure she was OK without asking. 

Kat: Again, I will never turn down food. Surprise me. No Kit Kats though. I’m banning them from the studio. 

I chuckled. It seemed like she was back to her normal snarky self. 

Me: ☹️☹️☹️ (three frowny face emojis)

Kat: OK. Fine. Just don’t let me SEE you eating them. 

Kat: And Dieter…

Me: Yeah?

Kat: I’m OK. You could have just asked. Thank you though. 💜 (heart emoji)

Well, damn. She was onto me. Not that I minded. I kind of loved that she knew me well enough to know what I was up to. 

Me: I didn’t want to be annoying about it. I’m happy you’re OK though. I was worried. Maybe I’ll actually get some sleep tonight…I’ll see you soon.  

I hesitated before I hit send on that reply, but I wanted her to know how concerned I was and that I actually cared. At this point, I felt like I was mentally getting out a hammer and chisel, chipping away tiny pieces of wall between us. I wasn’t going to be able to keep all this in forever. Hell, before it’s over, I may end up busting through, Kool-Aid man style. 

Once I gathered everything I needed for the day, I headed to the coffee shop, getting there in record time. I got Kat’s usual coffee order and added a blueberry scone. I was antsy, wanting to get the studio as soon as possible. I still needed to see her, to be sure. I knew the tightness in my chest wasn’t going to go away until I did. 

I arrived at the studio twenty minutes early. I was surprised when I spotted Kat’s car in its usual spot. The space beside it was open, so I pulled in. Knowing it would be easier for me to keep an eye on things as we left later. My arms were full causing me to struggle to get inside the main entrance, but I managed without dropping anything. Kat laughed at my exasperated face once she noticed me trying to open the heavy studio doors. She ran over to help, giving me a warm smile as she took the drinks and food from my hands. 

Kat sat everything down on a few chairs at the back of the room. I followed behind, eyeing her. I was relieved to see that she did seem to be OK, that was until she reached up to tie her hair back. After she finished, the wide neck of her top slid off of her shoulder, revealing bruises. I could feel my jaw tightening as I reached out to touch them. 

Kat’s brow furrowed at my expression before looking down to where my fingertips softly grazed her discolored skin. She sighed, taking my hand in hers as she peered up at me, “I told you, I’m fine. I didn’t even notice it.” 

I shook my head, feeling the rage simmering, then pulled her into a tight hug. “Please tell me you’re done with him,” I said into the top of her hair. 

She hugged me around the waist, burying her face in my chest for a moment before she pulled back, inhaling a deep breath, “I had a ton of messages and missed calls from him when I got home last night. All full of apologies…he knows he fucked up.” 

I tensed, not liking how this sounded.

“I texted him back…not ending things, but I did ask for space. I have a lot to think about and I can’t do that with him talking at me.” 

I was hopeful that she would see what an asshole he was. She had to. She couldn’t continue like this.

“How are you feeling about things this morning?” I asked.

She gave me an apprehensive look.

“You know what, it’s not my business. I shouldn’t be asking.” I said before she could respond, suddenly feeling like I was prying. I didn’t want to do that. I moved to turn away from her, but then I felt her hand on my arm, “No, really…it’s OK. I don’t have anyone to talk to about it. Nobody knows about that side of him.”

She sighed, sat down, then ran her hands down her face. “Honestly, I’m just kind of numb. I really don’t feel anything. I should at least be angry, right? Is that bad?”

I sat down beside her. She reached for my injured hand and started rubbing her fingers over the knuckles with a lost look in her eyes. I watched her for a moment before I responded. 

“Honestly, I think maybe you feel that way because you're avoiding dealing with it. Compartmentalizing it maybe? But I get the feeling it’s reaching a point where you can’t do that anymore.”

She pursed her lips and nodded. “I think maybe you might be right.” 

Her eyes met mine with a sad smile on her lips, “The film crew will be here soon. I should try to cover this up. I don’t wanna give them gossip on a silver platter.” 

She turned and reached for her gym bag, pulling out a smaller pouch full of makeup. I watched as she dabbed green, yellow, and purple color correctors on my knuckles then covered it with concealer, finishing with a setting spray. The discoloration and bruising were hardly noticeable now. 

“Hopefully that will last long enough to get us through filming today. I’ll try to be careful and not rub it off while we’re dancing,” she said. Now turning her attention to the noticeable bruise on her shoulder. She started working to cover that as well, but struggled, not really able to see what she was doing. I reached out my hand, “Here, let me do that for you.” She sighed, but relented and handed me the color corrector palette she was holding. 

I could feel her eyes on my face as I worked. My cheeks heated under her gaze as my heart pounded away in my chest. The static was crackling between us again, causing a few more chips to fall away from the wall between us. The moment felt incredibly intimate, and it only made me crave more. Once I was finished, she quietly thanked me and packed everything away out of sight. 

We sat enjoying our coffee and breakfast as the camera crew started filing in with their equipment. A couple of the crew members got us mic'd up and started the interview right away while everything else was set up.  Of course, they had questions about the sightings of us at the Latin club. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was. Luckily, Kat handled those questions perfectly. I know I would have stumbled my way through them in a way that probably would have raised some eyebrows. 

Overall, we were more relaxed during filming this week - actually laughing and having fun as we rehearsed. We had a moment where Kat accidentally kicked me in the shin while transitioning to a lift. I turned on the dramatics for it, whining and rubbing at the spot as if it had hurt badly. It really hadn’t, but I did enjoy getting her worked up over it. Once she realized I was messing with her, she lightly smacked my shoulder and called me a jerk before breaking into laughter. The crew got a good chuckle out of it, quickly catching onto my antics before Kat did. We pretty much had the routine down by the end of the day, which put us a little ahead of schedule. That took a lot of stress off us for the week, which I think helped with the playfulness between us. 

The day was over before we knew it.  Kat seemed to be in better spirits as she got into her car, smiling at me over the roof of it as she waved. Once she was safely on her way, I pulled out of the parking lot to head to the pet store…again. I had gone through several different brands of cat food over the last week. The Little Dude wasn’t having any of it. He only wanted Tuna. I found myself in the cat food aisle, staring at a wall of packages. They all looked the same to me. I sighed, feeling overwhelmed by the options and not knowing anything about cats. I finally settled on some meaty looking wet food and hoped for the best. 

As soon as I got home, I found Little Dude waiting outside the sliding glass door in the kitchen. He was on a schedule now and wasn’t going to let me forget about it. I opened the door, allowing him to come sashaying into the kitchen to sit next to the island. Waiting and watching as I scooped some of the new canned food out onto a plate and presented it to him. He stood and tentatively sniffed the chunks, then took a few nibbles but decided against it. He sat back down and looked up at me, whipping his tail around. 

“Still a no, huh?” I said to him. He meowed loudly back at me. I sighed heavily, “You know, considering you were on the streets not long ago, you’ve gotten awfully picky. I feel taken advantage of here…” 

He meowed again. I rolled my eyes as I moved toward the pantry for another pouch of tuna. I tried mixing some of the juice in with the food and gave it back to him. He still wouldn’t touch it. So, I added a few chunks of tuna as a topping. He ate the tuna and left the rest of it, before plopping himself down on his haunches and staring at me for more.

I chuckled to myself, “I think I just became the bitch of a seven pound menace. Fine, Dude. You win. Here’s your damn tuna. We need to get this figured out though. I’m sure you're not getting all your nutrients from that.”

He meowed up at me happily as I added more tuna to the plate. Once he had his fill, he walked over and jumped up on the couch making himself at home. I scoffed, “Dude, come on. You smell like something out of Pet Semetary.” He had the audacity to start wallowing around on his back. I rolled my eyes as I made my way to the linen closet, pulling out a spare blanket. After moving back to the couch, I opened up the blanket and fluffed it out next to him. He wasted no time settling in, purring and making biscuits with his paws. I gave him some scratches behind the ears as he dozed off. It was clear to me now, this cat was obviously trying to move in. With a heavy sigh, I realized that I needed to get some cat stuff for the house if this was going to be a thing, but I wasn’t even sure where to start with that. It was just another thing to worry about, but I sort of didn’t mind. He was definitely growing on me, making the house feel less empty and me less alone.  

Friday rehearsals went by in a blur. I arrived a few minutes early, finding Kat in the studio, ready to go. She seemed in good spirits as we joked through our morning coffee. Her twinkling laugh continued as we went through our stretch routine. I moaned and groaned through the torture while she bent my body to its limits, and I loved every fucking minute of it. I noticed that our new found comfort with each other had her leaning into me more. Her touches were more casual and relaxed. I couldn’t get enough of the feeling of her warmth against me or the brilliant smile on her face as she laughed at my ridiculousness. The hint of sadness that I noticed hidden in her eyes the last couple of days was nowhere in sight. 

Once we moved into the routine, the air between us felt like it was crackling again. Heated glances and small smiles passed between us as we made it through the entirety of the dance several times without error. We were so in tune with each other now, dancing in silence as one. Moving effortlessly through the steps without any thought or hesitation from either of us. The world fell away at that moment. We could have been in the midst of a war zone, and I wouldn’t have noticed. All I saw was her. There was no question about it now, I definitely had feelings for her that were more than just physical attraction. I couldn’t keep denying it to myself. 

Of course, Alec was technically still in the picture. Kat made a point to say that she hadn’t ended things with him. She had only asked for space. I was still determined not to put her in any type of compromising position. I had too much respect for her to do that, my own feelings be damned. I really needed to watch myself. 

After a few hours, we finally took a break. I lay sprawled out on the floor, staring up at her as she drank from her water bottle. I could see the sweat running down her neck, disappearing in the hidden space between her breasts. I had to force my eyes upward to her face before little Bravo decided to wake up against my wishes. 

When she finished, she turned to me, catching me staring. I didn’t even bother to look away. She gave me a shy smile as she sat down on the floor next to me. 

“So, what are you up to this evening? More plant daddy responsibilities?”

I snorted, “Plant daddy? That’s one I haven’t heard before.” 

Kat snickered before taking another sip of water. 

“No, actually I need to go to the pet store…hey, do you know anything about cats?”

Her brow furrowed, “Is this some kind of weird joke that I’m about to walk into?”

I chuckled, “No, I’m serious. I’m talking about the feline kind. I’ve had this stray show up at my house and he won’t fucking leave. Somehow that’s turned into him becoming a roommate. I’m having issues finding food he’ll eat though. I also don’t know what sort of cat stuff I need if I bring him inside like he seems to want to do.” 

She chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eye as she said, “So, you’re a cat daddy now, too?”

I shrugged with a smirk, “Yeah, I guess I’m trying to be.” 

She had a look on her face that I couldn’t decipher before breaking into a smile. 

“Yeah, I had cats growing up. They can be finicky and dramatic when it comes to food.”

I nodded, “Yeah, I’ve picked up on that...What should I do? Can you give me a list of stuff I need to get? I’ve never had a pet, so I have no idea where to start.” 

Her face softened, “You’re going to the pet store after you leave here?”

I nodded, curious what her tone meant. She paused before answering, seeming somewhat hesitant at first, “I could go with you if you want?”

I felt one side of my lips tug upward, “That would be amazing, actually.” 

Kat was true to her word. Once we finished rehearsal, she followed me to the pet store. Parking in the space next to mine and smiling as she exited her car. As she walked toward me, I realized it made me feel strangely giddy to be doing something like this with her. 

She hooked her arm with mine as we walked toward the entrance. I could feel warmth spreading in my chest at her casual touches. I had to fight the smile tugging at my lips.

“So, what is your fur child actually eating?” She asked. 

I grimaced, “Well, up until like a week or so ago, I assume whatever he could catch and kill. Honestly, he smells like something out of that Pet Semetary movie…which reminds me…have you ever given a cat a bath?” 

It was her turn to grimace, “Are you insane? Cats usually don’t like water. There are professionals that will do that for you, ya know?” 

I shook my head, “This kid is not used to people. I fear he wouldn’t be able to handle a grooming salon. At least not yet…”

She sighed, giving me a serious wide-eyed stare, “Fine, I’ll help you give the cat a bath…but if I die…I’m haunting your ass.” 

I belly laughed at her response as we entered the store, which seemed to draw some eyes toward us. I dropped my head and moved toward the first aisle as Kat got a shopping cart. 

“A cart, huh? How much of my money are you about to spend?”  

She chuckled, “Hey, I’m just making recommendations. You do what you will with them.” 

She pointed things out as we moved down the aisles, some of it just for fun, some of it was needed. I ended up splurging on a couple of robotic litter boxes and cat cave beds, bathing supplies, toys, a ridiculously massive cat tree, and a collar all before getting to the food. She was relentless with her teasing about my need to buy the most expensive thing on the shelf. I loved it when she teased me like this. It caused her eyes to light up in a way that made my heart race.

Once we got to the food aisle, she again asked what the cat was currently eating. 

“The only thing I’ve been successful with so far is Tuna. I’ve gotten several different kinds of cat food, and he just turns his nose up to them.” 

She stood staring down the aisle with too many options, scrunching up her nose before speaking again. “OK, so he likes fishy stuff. Have you tried dry food or wet food?”

She is too fucking adorable when she makes that face. My brows arched at her, “Both.” 

Her lips set into a line, “Did you try salmon flavored?”

I scoffed, “I’m pretty sure I tried every flavor they have. They were all a no.” 

Her brow furrowed as she looked up and down the aisle, thinking. Her eyes finally settled on a freezer at the far end, “Maybe he would prefer something a little fresher since he’s a hunter?”

My eyes widened, “I hope you don’t mean like…live rats or something. I’m not doing that.” 

She snorted, “Noooo. Ugh, no. I would never suggest that. I meant raw food.”

My eyes widened, “Ohhh. I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe…I’m willing to give it a try.” 

We made our way down to the freezer and she picked out a raw salmon food. It was small scoopable frozen nuggets full of organic ingredients. It honestly sounded better than the other stuff I had bought. At least I could pronounce everything on the label. I felt confident this might do the trick. It figures I would end up with a cat that had a taste for the fancy stuff. 

As we walked down the last couple of aisles, I circled back to the bath conversation, “Sooo, were you serious about helping give the Little Dude a bath?”

She nodded with a smirk, “Yes, I meant every word I said.” 

I chuckled, “You wanna come over tomorrow evening for that? I can get everything set up for him tonight. I’ll let him formally move in after he’s bathed.”

She made an annoyed face, “Tomorrow is spray tan day.”

I puffed air out through my cheeks. “I could get some of those long dish washing gloves, then we won’t get wet…and maybe protect us from being clawed to death too.”  

She snorted, “That sounds like a plan.” 

“I’ll make dinner. I have a feeling I’ll owe you by the time this is over...” 

One of her brows ticked upward, “I know I said I would never say no to food, but…you’re gonna cook?”

I placed my hand on my chest, feigning offense. “Excuse me? I happen to be a very good cook. It’s another new hobby I’ve picked up since rehab. My stuff is better than any five star restaurant.” 

The sound of her twinkling laugh filled my ears. “Riiiight. I’ll believe it when I see it,” she said between laughs. 

I rolled my eyes and gave her a playful smile, “Fine. Be prepared to stick your foot in your mouth.” 

Kat chuckled as we approached the checkout counter. We were surprised when the young lady behind the counter nervously asked if she could take a picture with us. We of course agreed and snapped a quick group selfie with the girl. We made small talk with her as she rang up my items. I explained how I had a new visitor show up and Kat was kind enough to show me what all I needed to buy, suddenly worried the girl might get the wrong idea about why we were there together. I had a feeling this would show up on social media at some point.

Kat helped me load everything into the back of my car before giving me a small smile and asking to let her know how the new food goes over with the Little Dude. I thanked her again with a cheesy grin before we both got into our vehicles and headed to our respective homes. 

It was a little after 9PM and I was deep into cat tree assembly when I received a text from Kat asking how dinner went. I pursed my lips as my fingers hovered over the keypad. Instead of typing out a message, I hit the video call button. I almost thought she was going to send me to voicemail, but she finally answered, her eyes wide as they jumped around the screen. It looked like she was lying in bed in a dimly lit room. Her hair fell around her face in damp waves, like maybe she had just showered. She looked beautiful. It took me a few seconds too long to find my voice.

“Hey, sorry, are you in bed?” I finally managed to sputter out. 

She smiled, “I’m in bed, but not sleeping. Just watching trashy TV and doom scrolling. How did the new food go?” 

I smiled at the screen, “Amazing. He devoured it…didn’t even hesitate.” 

She smiled back at me, “Good. Happy to hear it. What is he up to now?” 

I huffed out a laugh, “Laying at the end of the sectional, silently judging me over my struggles to put this damn cat tree together. I swear you have to be a fucking engineer to figure it out.”

I turned on the front camera of my phone to show her the cat, stretched out on his stinky blanket at the end of the couch as he gave me that judgy stare. She laughed loudly. 

“Oooh he’s pretty! He does look very judgy right now though.”

I switched the camera back to me, “This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen. Why are there so many parts?”

“Hey, you’re the one that had to get the biggest one they had in the store. Deal with the consequences. I told you that you should’ve just asked for the floor model that was already put together.” 

“Ummm, no. I wasn’t about to buy something that’s had a million grubby little hands on it and who knows what else. Dude only gets the best…brand new out of the box.” 

She rolled her eyes at me, “Did you try looking at the instructions? I know that’s hard for guys to do.” 

I scoffed and rattled the paper in front of the camera, “Umm…excuse me? I have been looking at the instructions and they’re garbage. Do you SEE this? It’s literally really bad drawings with no words. I can’t tell the pieces apart. It’s bullshit.”

She let out a loud laugh at my dramatics, covering her mouth with her hand to try and hold it back. I loved seeing her like this. A small part of me wondered what it would be like to lay in bed with her, laughing at trashy TV shows while we were wrapped up in each other under the covers. I shook my head slightly to clear that thought. 

“Is this your way of asking me to help you, without actually asking…out of fear of further judgment?”

I furrowed my brows and snorted, “I’m not afraid to ask. Judge me, I don’t care. I have no shame…but if you’re offering…” 

“Send me a picture of the instructions. I’ll hold your hand through it.” 

I rolled my eyes, “Oh yeah, thanks. You had to go and say it like that.” 

I did send her the instructions and we spent the next hour and a half on facetime putting the cat tree together. She had my full attention every time she would pull up the drawings to look at them. Her face would scrunch up in the most adorable way as she tried to figure out the next steps. The only thing that could have made the day more perfect is if she had been here with me in person. 

Once the tree was put together, we said goodnight. I noticed Kat lingered on the call for a moment before finally ending it. It caused my stomach to flip. I wished I knew what she was thinking. Is she feeling this too? Or am I just being delusional? 

After getting Dude settled in the garage for the evening, I finally crawled into bed. I laid there thinking about what I should cook for dinner. I didn’t want to do anything too over the top, but I did want to impress her. Then I moved on to picturing her in my house, in my space. Us in my space together. It was almost overwhelming. Realizing how badly I wanted that almost scared me. 

Sunday rehearsals flew by. We did the last of our fine tuning to the routine, running through it several times with the music track. We nailed it each time. The flirty aspect of the dance seemed to come to us easily now. There was no longer any lingering awkwardness between us. We were both comfortable and trusting of each other and having fun. 

We ended up leaving rehearsals a little early to get over to Television City Studios for the cast spray tanning session. We were hoping to get finished quicker by getting there before everyone else. I also felt like Kat was trying to avoid Alec too, which gave me a surge of excitement. It gave me hope that she was possibly thinking about ending things with him for good. 

After heading to our respective dressing rooms to get changed into our robes, we found each other again outside the large room used for the spray tan setup. To our surprise they were able to get us in quickly. Kat went in first, then they called me in several minutes later. After I was finished, I wandered back to my dressing room and changed into my gym shorts. I took a minute to dig around in my duffel bag for a t-shirt that I didn’t care for in case the spray tan rubbed off on it. There was no sense in ruining all of my shirts for this shit. 

There was a quiet knock on the door, I moved to unlock and open it, assuming it was Kat. She stood there, eyes racking over me with a smirk on her face. I gave her a quick smile as I turned my attention back to my bag, “I’m almost ready…just trying to find a shirt that I don’t care to mess up.”

She came in and leaned against the countertop of the vanity, “No problem, take your time.” She sounded amused. I glanced up at her, she had her arms crossed over her chest as she watched me with one brow raised. “Is something funny?” I asked. 

“Every time I come in here, you're half naked.” 

I found the shirt I was looking for and pulled it out, standing to my full height to face her, “If that’s the case, why do you keep coming in here then?”

Her face reddened, “Touché. You got me there.” 

I laughed, “Yeah, see how that works? I mean…it’s a dressing room. There’s bound to be various stages of undress happening. Don’t act so shocked. At least I have pants on this time.” 

She rolled her eyes before looking away. I moved to put my shirt on, purposely taking my time to pull it down over my head. Just as I yanked it down over my face, I caught her eyes shifting away from me. She was definitely checking me out. I could see it in the flush of her cheeks. Well, that's interesting. Maybe she was feeling the spark between us just as much as I am. It doesn’t matter, Bravo. She’s technically still taken. 

I turned to pile all of my junk back into my bag, pretending I hadn’t noticed her staring. She finally broke the silence, “So, what are you making me for dinner? I need to start preparing myself now if I’m to survive it.” 

I scoffed, “Come on. Give me some credit. You should know by now that I excel in all my extracurricular activities.”

Her eyes widened briefly, a small smirk playing on her lips, “I won’t believe it until I have firsthand experience as proof.”

Are we still talking about cooking? I felt like this conversation had a double meaning. I gave her a cocky grin, “Then prepare yourself for the most…pleasurable…food experience of your life.” 

She snorted out a laugh as she moved toward the door, “Right. We’ll see.” I grabbed my bag and followed behind her. Within minutes, I was in my car, driving toward my house with Kat following behind me. I tried not to think of what the evening held, but I knew I needed to behave myself. I had to keep reminding myself that I couldn’t cross any lines with her, no matter how badly I now realized I wanted to. 

A short time later, I was keying into my front door with Kat standing close behind me, taking in her surroundings. I was suddenly nervous for her to see my home. It made me feel naked in a different kind of way that I wasn’t prepared for. She would be seeing pieces of me that no one outside of my very small inner circle had. I would be opening myself up to her in a very raw and unfiltered way and I worried she wouldn’t like what she found.  

We were both quiet as she entered the living room. There was a small smile playing on her lips as she slowly walked around the space, running her hands over things as she went. Stopping to look at books and little knick-knacks I had sitting around from my travels. My stomach quickly rose to my throat when she focused on the paintings hanging on the walls. There were several duotone abstract pieces I had painted throughout my early days of recovery - visual representations of where I was emotionally at the time I painted them. I had hung them to remind myself of my progress. She spent a lot more time looking at these than anything else, raising her hand to touch the one closest to her.

“These are amazing,” she said quietly, almost to herself.

I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as I watched her fingers drop down to the rounded DB initials in the bottom right corner. Her eyes suddenly widening as realization set in. She turned to me, her face now lit up in a way I had never seen. Her eyes were sparkling with wonder as she peered up at me. “Dieter…d-did you paint these?”

I nodded shyly. I couldn’t speak, afraid that my emotions would reveal themselves to her. It meant more to me than I expected that she liked them. Now realizing that her opinion was the only one that ever really mattered to me. 

She smiled, “Well…I guess you do seem to excel in your extracurriculars. I can’t wait to see what else you have up your sleeve.” 

I smirked at her, swiping my thumb across my lip before speaking. “Hmm, well…I’ll have your mouth watering within the hour. You wanna help me get started?”

One of her brows twitched upward, “I’d be happy to.” 

I led her to the kitchen and began pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator and pantry. She stood nearby, taking everything in. 

“I’m actually a little jealous of your kitchen. This is nice and so are all your gadgets.” 

I chuckled, “I do spend a lot of time in here. A fancy kitchen was one of my requirements when I moved.” 

She nodded, then pointed at the speaker on the counter. “Do you usually play music while you cook?” 

“Yeah, you wanna turn something on?”

“Sure, it’s almost too quiet in here. I like a little background noise.” 

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and opened up the music streaming app - hitting play on whatever playlist was already queued up. A soulful blues song started emitting from the speaker. Kat smiled and nodded in approval. I went back to pulling out the rest of the ingredients, piling everything that needed chopping near the cutting board on the island then grabbed two knives from the drawer. 

“Can you handle chopping the veggies? It’ll make this go a lot faster.” 

She nodded, then took one of the knives and got to work chopping the mushrooms that I sat in front of her. We worked side-by-side in silence for a few minutes. My mind wandered to thoughts of how domesticated this felt. I liked it…too much. 

My attention was suddenly drawn back to Kat as her hips started moving to the rhythm of the music. Fuck, that’s distracting. I placed my hand on the small of her back, causing her to pause and look up at me, “You’re gonna chop a finger off moving around like that.” 

The side of her lip tugged upward as she peered at me through her lashes, “Don’t worry…I’m a pro at my extracurriculars too. I can do a lotta things with my hands while my hips are moving.” 

I sucked in a sharp breath at her words, my mind started running through all the possibilities behind them and none of it was wholesome. I finally managed to choke out a laugh, before going back to chopping the celery I had started on. Kat continued moving to the music beside me, humming along with the chorus. Fucking hell, I’m gonna chop my own finger off if I don’t watch it. The next song started playing. I was too distracted by Kat’s rolling hips and my thoughts that I didn’t realize what it was until the chorus hit. 

Fuck me like you mean it / Make me believe it / Walk the wire, it's alright / Love me like you need it / 'Cause I can feel it / Take it higher, show me why

The knife in my hand clattered down onto the cutting board, I was slightly mortified.

Kat’s movements paused, “Well, I didn’t see that coming…that's a little dirty...” She snickered.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize what song this was…. I’ll change it.”

Kat placed her hand on my forearm as I turned to grab my phone, “No, I actually kind of like his sound. Leave it.” 

Her hip movements continued as I switched to chopping the carrots and her the tomatoes. I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take. I stood there willing my dick not to get hard. Luckily, I got through the carrots quickly, and took the opportunity to turn my back to her. Moving on to peel and cut an onion under the cold water from the faucet. Which is probably just as well, because another song by the same artist came on that was sending my mind straight to the gutter. It felt like a playlist straight from my debauched thoughts. 

Hypnotic lover taking over my mind / Your spell is binding, makes it so hard to fight / She twists her hips and keeps it coming all night / I can't control myself, that girl is so fine

Thankfully we finished with all the vegetable cutting soon after that. I moved on to preparing the pork and getting the frying pan and oil up to temperature. I was happy to have something that required my focus. Kat appeared, leaning against the counter next to the stove, watching me intently. 

“So, are you ever gonna tell me what you’re cooking?”

I smirked, “Pork cacciatore.” 

She gave me a deadpan stare, “You do know I’m a vegetarian, right?” 

I was briefly hit with a streak of panic, before I realized she was messing with me. She had eaten a steak burrito in front of me, twice. I let out a dramatic sigh then smiled, “I guess I’ll be eating alone then. Oh well, more for me.” 

She laughed as she playfully smacked my shoulder. I moved in front of her, placing my hand on her hip to scoot her out of the way as I reached above her head to get into the cabinet that housed all the spices. I muttered a quiet “excuse me” as I glanced down at her eyes that were looking up at me through her lashes. She didn’t really move. Instead, she stayed pinned between me and the counter. I could hear the faint sound of her breath hitching at my proximity. I smirked, then turned my attention back to the cabinet, pulling out the dried rosemary, oregano, and basil before finally removing my hand from her hip and stepping back to the stove. I could feel her eyes on me the entire time. 

As I started mixing in all the ingredients to simmer, she leaned down on her elbows and inhaled deeply, “Mmm…you were right. My mouth is watering. This smells amazing.”

I gave her a cocky smile, “I told you….and it tastes better than it smells. It’s like an orgasm for your taste buds.” 

Shit. I probably shouldn’t have said that. My mouth got ahead of my brain. Her tinkling laugh filled my ears, “That’s a lot of confidence you’ve got in your cooking skills, Bravo.”

I shrugged, “I promised you a pleasurable experience. I’m just delivering on my word.” 

Fucking hell, I’m being ridiculous and getting out of line. Reel it in, Bravo! 

She didn’t seem phased by my comments, if anything it felt like she was enjoying the banter. 

We soon sat down at the dinner table, which I couldn’t recall ever actually sitting at to eat. Kat proceeded to moan through several bites and gush about how delicious it was. I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. It made me feel almost giddy that she enjoyed it. Our conversation flowed easily, as we talked about different things. Getting to know each other a little more and slowly chipping away at that imaginary wall that separated us. 

“I’m just gonna start coming over here for dinner every night. My cooking can’t compete with this,” she finally said with a joking tone as she scooped that last bite off her plate. 

I gave her a toothy grin, “I’ll cook for you anytime you want me to.”

She laughed, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

I laughed it off, but she had no idea how fucking serious I was. I would cook for her every night of forever if she’d let me. 

After several minutes of Kat fussing over helping with the dishes, I finally convinced her to let it be. I had a housekeeper that would take care of it in the morning, so it really wasn’t that big of a deal. We decided to take our chances by giving the Little Dude a bath after that. I led her out to the garage which was still a mess with boxes, but Dude didn’t seem to mind it. He had turned it into his own personal playground. 

I had set up everything we would need for a bath next to the utility sink so we could get right to it. Kat grabbed one of the towels and laid it out on the counter and got the brushes ready, saying we should brush out all the mats first. As she was explaining the steps we should take, Little Dude decided to make his presence known. He came strutting out from somewhere in his box fort to meow out me. He then proceeded to rub up against Kat’s legs. She giggled at him, bending down to pick him up.

“Ooof, he is rank,” she said through a chuckle. 

“I told you. I swear he rolled in something dead.” 

She grimaced, moving him away from her body to sit him on the counter. 

“He’s really pretty though. He seems young. Have you taken him to the vet yet?”

“Not yet. I’m working up to it. I didn’t wanna stress him out too much all at once…though…he seems strangely fine with everything. He’s the one that wants to move in,” I said - laughing quietly to myself over the absurdity of it. 

Kat began to look him over, “He has some pretty bad mats under his arms, we may have to cut those. Do you have scissors? They aren’t too close to the skin, so I think I can cut them easily enough.” 

“Uhh, yeah. I have a whole clipper kit with scissors. I’ll go get it.”

I ran to get the kit and was back within minutes to find Little Dude sprawled out on his back while Kat brushed at the hair on his stomach. He seemed to love the attention. I stood next to Kat, keeping him distracted with pets while she worked. She ended up cutting a lot of the mats out just to save time. After several minutes had passed, she turned to me, a concerned look on her face. 

“What? Is something wrong?” I asked. 

“I would say so. We have a major problem here.” 

My stomach was suddenly in my throat. My mind now conjuring up the worst things, “What is it?” 

She fought to hold back a laugh, “Dude is not a dude.” 

My brow furrowed, “What do you mean?”

She snorted, “There is no twig and berries down there. Dude is a Dudette.” 

“Seriously? You’re joking?” 

“Nope. Did you even check?” 

“Do you see how much hair she has? I was just guessing. I couldn’t tell. It makes sense why she wouldn’t leave though…chics do love me.” 

Kat snorted again, “Staaap. You’re so ridiculous.” 

I chuckled, “At least now I know why I was getting the judgy looks.” 

“Well, now you need to give her a proper name. Something cute…that is not Dudette.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll have to think about it. Damn.” 

After a brief pause to laugh about our discovery. We continued. Luckily the cat’s top half wasn’t as bad, so Kat made quick work of it. Then we took a minute to prepare ourselves for the chaos of the bath. Strategizing on the best way to handle it if she freaked out. It turns out, we didn’t even need to do that. The cat apparently loved water, which blew our minds. She sat still, enjoying the massage we gave her as we worked the shampoo into her fur. She nearly fell asleep as I used the spray head to rinse her, occasionally pointing the stream in Kat’s direction just to be obnoxious. After reminding me that we had just gotten a spray tan, I stopped. She said I wouldn’t be able to endure her wrath if I made her streaky. 

Once we got the Little Dudette clean and dry, I picked her up and brought her inside. I took a minute to show her where the litter boxes were, her beds, and her new cat tree. I sat her at the top of the cat tree, and she immediately began exploring it. Kat and I watched her for a few minutes, before Kat looked around the room.

“Hmmm…the plants could be an issue. I know some are poisonous to cats.”  

My eyes widened. I hadn’t even thought about that. Damn I already suck at this cat dad stuff.

Kat pulled out her phone and found a list of toxic plants and let me look over it. I sucked air through my teeth, then moved to pick up the Aloe plant sitting on the end table, “Sorry Barb. Looks like you’re gonna be banished to the art studio.”  I handed it to Kat, “Please hold Barb for a moment.” 

She started laughing at me. I turned to grab the Cutleaf Philodendron that was sitting in the dining room. “You’re out too, Cutlet,” I said as I picked up the medium sized tropical plant. 

“Follow me. We’ll put these away in another room.” 

As we made our way through the house, I grabbed another Aloe plant that was sitting on a bookshelf. “Sorry, you’re out too, Spike.” 

I could hear Kat snickering behind me as we ascended the stairs. Once we reached the door to my studio, I juggled the plants in my arms to turn the knob. I suddenly felt nervous for Kat to be in the space, but tried not to dwell on it as I pushed the door open with my foot. She followed me inside and set Barb down on the window sill next to Spike. I set Cutlet down on the desk. I’d have to find a spot for him later. 

I could tell Kat wanted to explore the room, but she held back, shyly looking down at the ground instead. I was sure she could sense this was an extremely personal space for me and didn’t want to intrude.  

“You can look around if you want.” I finally mustered up the courage to say. I trusted her enough to share this side of myself. Not many people got to see it. 

Her eyes lit up with excitement, “Are you sure? I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” 

I nodded and gave her a small smile. Standing back to watch as she walked around the room looking at the various paintings leaned against the walls. Her eyes roamed over every surface, pausing to spend extra time on the sketches spread out on the tables and desk. 

I hadn’t spent any time in this room since rehearsals started. I hadn’t had the time, and when I did, I was too tired. However, I suddenly had that nagging need to. There were images swirling in my head that I needed to get out onto a canvas. I was shocked to find they were colorful shades of purple and blue with hints of magenta. There was no black in sight. I knew the cause of the shift, it was Kat. She was my new muse. Replacing the self-hatred and unhappiness with her light. I wanted to paint her dancing with the fire in her eyes. I wanted to sketch all of my favorite parts of her - her lips, her eyes, the curve of her hips. 

Seeing her in my home and how easily she could fit into my life was making me want things I never thought I would. I wanted her to be part of everything. My other half. I wanted to share my existence with her. Then reality set in. She still belongs to someone else, Bravo. Stop thinking like this. 

I shook my head to clear it as she looked my way with a smile. I tried to return it, but it didn’t reach my eyes. She walked toward me, “Dieter, all of this is amazing. I-I don’t have any words. You’re so talented.” 

My brow furrowed, I was suddenly feeling emotional. I murmured a quiet “thanks” to her as she turned to look around the room one last time before turning back to me, “Would you paint something…for me? I would love to have one.” 

I gave her a genuine smile now, “Of course. I think I already have an idea for something.” 

Our gazes locked for a moment, something unsaid lingering between us, but it passed. I motioned toward the door, “Well, would you like a tour of the rest of the place? I have a feeling you might enjoy my other sanctuary.”

She gave me a quizzical look, “Lead the way. You have me intrigued now.” 

I snickered as we walked into the hallway and closed the door behind us. I led Kat down the hall to the room where I did everything else - music, reading, writing. It really was my other sanctuary. It was a large open room with glass doors that opened to the balcony overlooking the ocean. The espresso colored hardwood was covered by a deep navy and maroon Persian area rug. Floor to ceiling shelves lined one cream colored wall, full of books and scripts. Two leather chairs sat in one corner with two acoustic guitars perched on stands between them. Several other guitars hung on the wall nearby. Another wall of shelves housed my record collection. The old record player stood next to it, connected to vintage floor speakers. An espresso colored wicker hanging chair with a white cushion hung from the ceiling in the corner near the record player. An extra large white furry beanbag sat nearby, with a few deep yellow throw pillows on it. There were plants everywhere - large potted ones sitting on the floor, vines hanging from the ceiling, small succulents scattered throughout the shelves. A small writing desk sat against the wall next to the balcony doors. The few open spaces on the wall were home to more of my paintings. The center of the room was completely open. Aside from my studio, it was my favorite place to be. 

When I opened the door and motioned for Kat to enter, her face shifted. A hint of a smile ghosted her lips as her eyes rounded and sparkled. She stood in the center of the room turning in a slow circle, taking in the space. 

“Dieter…you’re right. I love this. Everything about it is perfect.” 

She walked over to one of the paintings, an abstract sunset of black, deep blue, red, and yellow. It was a more recent one, not as dark as the ones downstairs. Her fingers grazed over the DB scrawled in the bottom corner. One side of her lip turned upward once she realized it was another one of my paintings. She turned, moving back toward the center of the room and spun around with her arms out.

“This room is huge…big enough we could rehearse in here.”

My teeth sunk into my bottom lip, biting back a smile. I loved that the thought had crossed her mind. That she wanted to be in this space with me. 

“We could. There’s a lot of open space. I left it like that so I could come in here and paint if I wanted. Depending on the time of day, the lighting can be better here than in the studio. Plus, I can open the doors and hear the ocean. It’s soothing.” 

She nodded, a pensive look on her face as she continued looking around the room. 

“I take it you probably didn’t expect all this, huh?” 

She shook her head as her brows pinched together, “No, honestly. I’m not sure what I expected, but strangely enough, I’m not surprised. I know you're not shallow and emotionless like the tabloids often make you out to be.” 

She was standing in front of me now, her eyes roaming my face. “I see you, Dieter. I know you feel things deeply…even if you don’t always admit to it. So, it doesn’t surprise me that this is how you spend your time. Us tortured souls have to get the feelings out somehow.”

I couldn’t breathe. The way she was looking at me literally took my breath away. I knew without a doubt that she meant what she said. She did understand me better than anyone ever had because we were the same in a lot of ways, but complete opposites in others. We balanced each other out and fit together in a way that filled in each other's gaps to make a whole. We were meant to find each other, I could feel it in my bones. If only she could see that and finally get rid of the disease in her life that was Alec. 

Kat’s face turned almost wistful as she stared at me for a beat. Finally turning away and moving toward the leather chairs in the corner and sitting down. She turned, eyeing the acoustic guitars sitting next to her. 

She pointed, “Are these for decoration or do you actually play?”

I shrugged, “I guess you can call it that…I had to learn for a role many years ago. It kind of stayed with me after that.” 

She raised a brow in my direction as her hand slid around the neck of the nearest instrument, “Do you mind…” she asked, pausing for my response. 

Curious where this was going, I shook my head. “No, I don’t. Have at it.” 

The way she handled it told me this was something she was familiar with. I could hear the blood pumping in my ears from excitement at the thought that she might play something. I shuffled over to sit in the seat next to her and picked up the other instrument as her fingers slid over the strings, like she was getting a feel for it. I bit back the anxious feeling that was forming in my chest and started plucking at the strings on the guitar I had just picked up. Playing chords for the first song that came to mind. 

Kat watched me for a moment. Her eyes narrowed at my hands, “I know this song…” 

I smiled up at her as she hummed along for a few seconds, trying to place it. She surprised me when she started to sing along.

She's the place I go / When there's nowhere left to run to / She's the one I hold / When there's no one to hold on to

I was awed by her. Her voice was amazing - soulful, velvety, and pure. She was so fucking beautiful it hurt. The moment caused something to swell inside of me, making me emotional. I had to take a deep breath to fight it back as I watched her place her fingers on the frets and start strumming along with me. She continued singing the chorus. Without thinking, I joined in, which elicited a brilliant smile from her. 

She's been with me late at night / When I was drowning in the dark / She heard my every word / When I was pouring out my heart / So I thank my lucky stars / For every crack, scratch, and scar on this guitar

Our voices harmonized together perfectly, causing goosebumps to break out across my body. I suddenly felt connected to her in a way that I hadn’t before. I picked up the next verse as she continued playing with me.

She's given me her best / When I am at my worst / When I can't find the pieces / Fingers scratching in the dirt / She offers no forgiveness / 'Cause she likes to make it hurt

Her eyes stayed on mine. I could see the fire blazing in them again. I couldn’t help smiling as the words passed through my lips. She returned it as she joined back in for the chorus. We finished the reminder of the song with a flourish, breaking into laughter when it was done. 

Once the laughter settled, I finally asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you played? And can sing for that matter?”

She shrugged, “It’s not really something I do a lot of anymore…Not since my dad passed. He taught me to play when I was younger…before things got bad with him. We picked it up again after he was sober.” 

A sad smile formed on her lips, “He had a few friends he would play with on the weekends…pickin' and grinnin' is what they called it. Just a bunch of friends and their families hanging out in someone's backyard, having fun. I learned a lot from them.”

I had a sudden urge to hug her, but then the sparkle from that damn engagement ring on her finger caught my attention for the first time that evening. It was a stark contrast against the black bout of the guitar, silently screaming a reminder that she was still with the asshole. It broke through the delusional thoughts that had started to swirl around in my head the last few minutes.

I cleared my throat, “Well, you’re really good. I didn’t see that coming.”

She gave me a genuine smile now, “You’re not so bad yourself. Still excelling in all areas apparently.” 

I had the sudden need to be away from her. I was feeling overwhelmed by my conflicting feelings. I glanced down at my watch, “Hmm…it’s getting late. We should probably call it a night. I don’t wanna be your excuse for being tired tomorrow.” I let out a nervous laugh. 

She looked at her watch, “Oh damn. Yeah, it is…and I still have a 30 minute drive home.” 

An awkward tension settled in the air as I placed the guitars back on their stands. We walked in silence down the stairs. Kat took a minute to give the kitty some scratches before collecting her purse and phone to leave. I asked her to let me know when she made it home as she leaned in for a side hug. 

“I will…and thanks for dinner. It was amazing.” 

When she pulled away, her hand lingered at my waist. She smiled before finally turning to walk toward her car. I kept an eye on her until she was locked inside and backing out of the driveway. This was getting to be too fucking hard. 

I sighed, walking through the house to turn everything off and lock up for the night. The cat followed behind me every step of the way. Once I got settled in the bed, I felt her jump onto the mattress. She tentatively walked over and climbed up on my chest, purring into my hand as I scratched behind her ears. 

“Maybe you're meant to be the only woman in my life. I should probably accept that and move on.” 

Her eyes drooped under my touch. A quiet meow squeaked out in response.  “I guess I should give you a proper name now, because Dude is not gonna cut it.” 

I thought for a minute. A plant name might be cute, right? “How about poppy? Ehh, no. That might raise some eyebrows given who your dad is. Let’s avoid drug references…”

I laughed to myself. It was so ridiculous that I had to think about stuff like that. 

“Hmm, how about Rosie? Na…that’s too girly. You’re kind of a bad ass critter catcher.”

She meowed loudly, almost like she was agreeing with me. I chuckled. “I’ve got it. Zinnia. Zee for short. That’s cool, right?”

She was asleep now. She could have cared less. “Zee it is. Zee my little warrior queen.” 

I got a text from Kat a few minutes later, letting me know she got home. I sent her a thumbs up emoji then set the phone on its docking station for the night. I somehow managed to drift off to sleep. 

I was woken up about ten minutes before my alarm went off by Zee, making biscuits in the crook of my arm and purring. I couldn’t even be upset about it because it was too fucking cute. This cat was already making me melt and had me wrapped around her paw. I nuzzled my face into her fur, she smelled so much better. It was nice to finally have her properly clean so I could cuddle her without being grossed out. I don’t know why I fought against having her for so long. It felt nice to have another living being in the house with me. 

I finally rolled out of bed and took a quick shower. It was show day, so I couldn’t be dicking around this morning. I threw on clean shorts and a t-shirt, then headed out. I stopped to get our usual cups of coffee before heading to Television City Studios. Kat and I were one of the first groups there, determined to get the rough run through out of the way. 

Kat was already chatting with the band when I walked in and handed her coffee over. We went through the routine a few times to get the camera blocking out of the way and gave feedback on the music. The other couples had started to filter in by the time we were on our last run through. I could see Alec sitting, waiting for his and Lana’s turn. I hadn’t seen him since the incident, so I wasn’t sure what the damage was. His face was pretty bruised up around the nose and under the eyes. I had to hold back the satisfied smile that was tugging at my lips as we walked by him. 

Kat did take a minute to add some makeup to my knuckles. They were still a little bruised. We didn’t want the cast to see it if we could help it. After she finished, we headed into hair and makeup to get slathered in more makeup and hair gel. 

Kat and I were seated next to each other again. We chatted with each other while they worked on us. I told her what I decided to name the cat. She laughed at first but wasn’t at all surprised that it was the name of a plant. She finally relented, admitting that it was cute and giving her seal of approval.

About 30 minutes after sitting down in the makeup chair, Anika approached me. She had a shy, but flirty smile on her face as she leaned against the vanity in front of my seat and purred out a “good morning.”

I smiled at her awkwardly, unsure of what was happening. Anika glanced toward Kat, then turned so that her back was toward her. 

“What are you doing after the show tonight?” she finally asked. 

I shrugged, “I don’t know yet. I suppose it depends on how tired I am.”

She laughed like I had just told the most hilarious joke. I now realized what was happening. Fucking hell. Please don’t do it. 

Her hand rested on my knee, “How about we go out for drinks after? Maybe we can hang out for a bit.” She gave a suggestive squeeze with her fingers as she spoke. 

I could tell from my reflection that I had the deer in headlights look. My brain completely shut down. I was not interested in the least. “Umm, I dunno. I really need to get home…and feed my cat.” 

“Oh, come on, just one drink. You can do that after.”

It was Kat who responded with an agitated tone, “You do realize he’s sober, right?”

Anika looked surprised, then laughed nervously. “Well in that case, you can just watch me drink. You don’t have to have anything with alcohol.”

I sat there with my mouth agape, not really sure how to respond to that. I couldn’t stop anyone from drinking around me, but damn. If she was trying to win me over, that was not the way to do it. 

“Are you a fucking idiot? He’s sober. He doesn’t wanna be around alcohol.” Kat was having none of this from her. 

Anika huffed, “I don’t think I asked you, Katarina. Mind your business. Shouldn’t you be worried about what your own man is up to?” 

I realized the ladies that had been doing our hair and makeup had stepped back. Kat looked like she was about to come up out of her seat after this girl. I cleared my throat, “Ummm thanks for the offer, Anika…but I think I’ll pass. Maybe another time?” I said nervously.

She gave me a disappointed look before flipping Kat off and walking out of the room. 

Kat puffed air out of her cheeks, “Ugh, I fucking hate that girl.”

The ladies who were working on us snickered before continuing with their task. 

I glanced over at Kat, “Thank you for that. I wasn’t really sure how to handle it.”

“Well, you better figure it out, because I’m sure she’s not done asking. Unless you wanna go out with her, of course.” Her tone was very clipped, and I wasn’t sure why. It surprised me. Did I do something wrong?

Kat was quieter after that, seemingly lost in her thoughts. I wasn’t sure how to handle it. It was making me feel off. I was happy when hair and makeup had finished with me. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I made a beeline for my dressing room to get changed into my costume. I didn’t hear from Kat for a while, assuming they had dress rehearsals for the group performances.

While I waited, I texted my assistant and asked him to bring me some brunch to pass the time. It was a little early for lunch, but I was already starving. A few minutes after he dropped off the food, I got a text from Kat, asking where I was. 

Me: In my dressing room. I have 🌯🌯🌯. (three burrito emojis) 

It wasn’t even a full minute before there was a knock on the door.

“Come in.” I managed to garble out through a mouth full of steak goodness. Kat pushed the door open, standing there with a disapproving look and her hands on her hips. 

“You're hiding away to eat burritos? Really?”

My ability to speak left me as soon as I laid eyes on her. The only response I could muster was to hold out the extra burrito I had gotten for her. She looked fucking amazing in her costume. The hem was asymmetrical, showing off her toned legs. The shorter side revealed her entire right thigh. The front was lower cut than I had expected, showing the curve of her breast. From the sketches, I knew the back was non-existent. There was only enough of the fringy fabric to cover her ass. They had left her chestnut hair half down this time. The front of it was pinned back leaving the soft curls cascading down around her bare shoulders. The red shade of the dress, if you could even call it that, looked amazing against her golden skin and made her red lips pop. All of the exposed flesh definitely had little Bravo’s attention. It took everything in me to refocus my thoughts and get him under control. 

She raised a questioning brow at me, a smirk forming on her lips as she took the burrito, “You OK, Bravo?”

I nodded as I swallowed down the food I had been chewing even though I wasn’t ready, nearly getting choked in the process. I coughed uncontrollably for a moment, then reached for my drink. I ended up dropping burrito juices on the robe I had put on over my costume. 

Kat laughed, “Good thing you put the robe on. I wouldn’t want to explain that mess to the costumers or producers.”

After taking a long drink through the straw, I managed to get myself together enough to respond, “No kidding. I have an extra one hanging over there if you wanna use it while you eat. I know these are messy.” 

“Why yes, I think I will. Thank you.”

Whatever had been bothering her earlier seemed to have passed. She was back to her normal smiley self as we rushed through our meal. It helped me feel a little more at ease and out of my head. Once I was finished with my burrito, I pulled the robe off, checking to make sure I hadn’t gotten anything on the costume. I turned to ask Kat if she saw any evidence left behind. I didn’t miss how her eyes looked me up and down before focusing on my shirt. 

I couldn’t help teasing her, “You see something you like, Kit Kat?” 

She narrowed her eyes at me, “I was just getting a look at your costume. I hadn’t seen it on you yet.”

I stood back, pulled the blazer open, and did a little spin for her, “You like?”

“Oddly enough…yes. The 70’s vibe suits you. I can’t believe you have it buttoned all the way up though. I was beginning to think you had a button allergy.” 

I gave her a cocky grin, “If you wanna see a little more skin, just ask honey. I guess I probably should show a little more, in solidarity with you.” 

She rolled her eyes before taking her last bite. I turned to the mirror and undid the top few buttons. I could see her watching me in the reflection, shaking her head with a smirk on her face. A few minutes later, we headed toward the ballroom for our final dress rehearsal. As we stood on the outer perimeter of the dance floor, Alec and Lana came to stand behind us to wait their turn. Kat seemed to be ignoring them, which was surprising. I couldn’t help glancing over at Alec. My mouth seemed to have a mind of its own as I took in his appearance.

“It looks like hair and makeup did a knockout job on you today, Alec. Can’t even tell that your face is fucked up.” 

Kat snorted next to me, covering her mouth with her hand to hold back the laugh. I was surprised to see that Lana also had a hint of a smile on her lips. 

Alec sneered, “Don’t get too excited, Bravo. You didn’t hit me that hard…nothing is broken.”

I gave him a toothy smile, “Nothing but your pride, right?” 

“Fuck you, Bravo.” 

Kat turned to me, placing her hand on my chest, “That’s enough, you two. Shut up or I’ll throat punch both of you.” 

I was still smiling when I muttered a quick “sorry” her way. 

She gave me a playful wink that Alec couldn’t see before looping her arm with mine, forcing me to turn away from him. We were called to go through our routine soon after that. We nailed it the first time through. The lightning, music, and camera angles fell into place perfectly for us. We went through it two more times just to be sure. 

I don’t really know what came over me, I assumed it was because Alec was glaring at me the entire time, but I made sure to turn the flirtiness of our routine up a few notches. Kat didn’t seem to mind, meeting me where I was. Not that it was all an act. The way the fringy dress accentuated her hip movements really did almost have me on my knees. The woman’s body moved in ways that my brain could not handle. 

I have to admit, I was getting a small thrill out of knowing Alec was seeing how good Kat and I were together. I didn’t want to make things harder on her, but he really did need to be put in his place. He needed to know that Kat was desirable. 

I could feel the static crackling in the air between me and Kat as we walked off the dance floor, hand in hand. She had that look in her eyes again while we waited for final feedback. We were given the all clear to head to our final fitting after that. Kat kept hold of my hand the entire time. Only dropping it as soon as we ran into Stacia and Joe in the hallway. We moved to walk around them, but Stacia stopped us. I noticed she looked both of us over before she spoke to Kat, “Care to share what happened to Alec’s face?”

Kat’s eyes widened slightly, “What did Alec say happened to his face?” 

Stacia’s eyes narrowed, “He didn’t…just said he’s clumsy.” 

I worked to keep my face neutral, but I really wanted to laugh at the absurdity of everything.

Kat gave her a tight lipped smile, “Well, I won’t argue with that. He is clumsy.” 

“So, you’re not gonna spill the details?” Stacia prodded. 

“I’m afraid I don’t know the details. He was fine the last time I saw him…so I can’t help you there.”

I could tell by the way Stacia was looking at Kat that she didn’t believe her. It was almost like they were having some sort of standoff now, eyes locked in an intense gaze. Stacia’s eyes finally shifted over to me, her head tilting slightly. “How about you, Dieter? Do you know what happened to his face?”

I shrugged, “What makes you think I would know anything? I hardly see the guy.” 

Stacia studied my face for a moment, almost like she was trying to read if I was lying. Her lips eventually turned upward into a smirk, “Well, good luck you two. Your dress rehearsal looked perfect. You’ve really turned up the heat this week. I’m sure the viewers are gonna love it.” 

Joe stood by smiling like the Cheshire Cat through this entire interaction. Only mumbling a quiet “Good luck” as they walked away. Kat and I gave each other wide-eyed looks as we turned to head toward the wardrobe department for our final fitting. Once the fitting was done, we stopped in for hair and makeup touch ups. Kat had to go change for the opening performance while I went to the staging area to wait. 

Since I skipped out on watching the group dress rehearsals, this was my first time seeing it. I remembered Stacia saying that they were going to put more attention on Kat, but I didn’t realize how much. She was the performance. Everyone else might as well have been background dancers. She worked the room and the cameras like no other and had the audience going crazy. She was magnetic and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. 

I lost interest once she was off the dance floor, opting to scroll through social media on my phone instead. I went down a rabbit hole of hashtags for the show, curious what people were saying. Kat was indeed a hot topic, and it was mostly positive. They fucking loved her and that made me happier than it probably should have. I definitely felt like Stacia was getting a heavy dose of karma after insinuating that Kat wasn’t that good in the beginning. 

I eventually came across a Dieter and Kat hashtag. I thought twice about clicking it but did so anyway. There were apparently a lot of shippers for us out there. It now made more sense why Stacia and Joe were pushing that narrative. I was honestly surprised at the support for it. Usually, my fans flipped the fuck out anytime I was linked to any sort of serious romantic partner, but they seemed ok with this. I saw Kat coming in my periphery, so I hit the hashtag ‘follow’ button then locked my phone just as she made it over to me.

We were buzzing with anticipation as we awaited our turn. Kat hooked up her earbuds to her phone, “You ready for some hype music?” 

I nodded, “What’s it gonna be today? Eye of the Tiger?” 

She chuckled, “Oh no. I only pull out the big guns when it’s serious.”

She handed me one bud and my ear was immediately filled with the familiar guitar riffs of Walk this Way by Aerosmith and Run DMC. “Yaaaaaas! I approve!” I said with a wide grin. She laughed, bobbing her head to the beat while my fingers played the chords on my air guitar. It was exactly what we needed to get hyped up. 

Before we knew it, it was our turn. I was strangely calm as we stepped out onto the dance floor and took our places. Kat’s confidence and sparkling eyes seemed to keep me grounded in the moment as the spotlight dropped down on her. I stood off to the side in the darkness, waiting until it was time to join her. She opened with the flirty strut and hip shaking thing she does so effortlessly before I came into the light, playing the lovesick puppy matching her every move while she shimmed and gyrated around me. There were a couple of instances where there was no space between us as our bodies moved as one to the beat. Kat’s cheek rested against mine, our fronts pressed together, our bodies twisting downward before popping back up for me to dip her backwards. She pushed me away dramatically before we transitioned into a lock step sequence followed by cross over breaks and a chase with full turns. We ended with a flourish as I spun Kat around and dipped her backward again, this time pulling her leg upward into our ending pose. 

When the lights dimmed, I pulled Kat upward and hugged her against me as she bounced up and down. Her arms wrapped around my neck as her cheek pressed firmly against mine. “I swear, that was fucking perfect. We killed it,” she said loud enough for me to hear it. I could feel her hot breath against my ear as she spoke. I couldn’t help burying my face in her neck for a brief moment. I inhaled her scent quickly, it was sweet like berries and a spring day. I didn’t want to let go, but I had to. The producers were finally getting what they wanted, our whole interaction since stepping foot on the dance floor was over the top flirty and sexy. More so than it had been during rehearsals as we continued matching each other’s energy, not holding anything back. If the connection between us continued to grow like this every week, it was only a matter of time before something happened between us. Having this much chemistry was unsustainable in its current form. 

While I did my interview and waited for the scores, Kat stood hugging me around the middle with both arms. I wrapped one of mine around her and pulled her tightly into my side. 

The judges didn’t really have any feedback for us. They mostly gushed about the sexiness of the performance and how in sync we were with each other. Noting that we probably had a stronger connection than any other couple on the show this season. My head was spinning from the adrenaline of it all before we even got our scores. My knees felt like they were going to give out as they started calling out the numbers. They gave us two 8’s and two 9’s. Kat and I were both in shock as we stood with our mouths agape. She had to give me a little shake to bring me back down to earth as the host asked how I was feeling about having the highest score of the night. 

Afterwards, we walked back to the staging area with smiles on our faces. Several cast members congratulated us as we passed by. We found a spot in the back corner, away from the others. Kat pulled me in for another hug, “That is the highest score I have ever gotten. I think I’m in shock.” 

I chuckled, “I know, I’m in shock. That was…wow. I have no words.”  

“We should celebrate with a big greasy burger after this,” she said with a toothy grin. 

I nodded, my hand still resting on Kat’s hip after she pulled away from the hug. Her hand sat on the back of my shoulder as she leaned into my side. We stayed like that while watching the next couple’s performance. The energy was still buzzing between us when we were interrupted by Alec. I noticed his eyes drop down to where my hand was on Kat, anger briefly flashed across his face, but he managed to compose himself. 

“Kat, can we talk for a minute?” he finally asked. 

Her lips set into a tight line before she finally nodded and pulled away from me. He’s not really gonna do this now, is he?

They moved further away into the back corner, but I could still hear him begging her for another chance. I rolled my eyes, trying not to listen, but I honestly couldn’t help it. 

“Baby, please, I swear. I’m not gonna fuck up again. I’m really gonna try to do better. I went to an AA meeting yesterday. I haven’t drank at all since that night. I feel terrible and I realize I can’t keep acting like this. I’ll do whatever you want. I’m still going to anger management, I’ll do therapy too if that’s what you really want. Please, I’ll do anything.”

I chanced a glance in their direction, Kat looked like her resolve was breaking. Fucking asshole. He was saying all the right things and I bet he didn’t mean a word of it. 

“Alec, I can’t keep doing this.”

“I know baby, I don’t blame you. Just one more chance, please.” 

Kat sighed, “OK. This is the LAST time though. You fuck up again and I’m done. It’s on you. You hear me?”

I didn’t even hear Alec’s response. I felt like the air had been knocked out of me. I had gotten my hopes up - let my fantasies of her being mine run wild and infect my senses. I felt dizzy for a different reason now, realizing my breathing was turning shallow.

My attention was drawn back to Kat when I heard my name. 

“You need to get over whatever your issue is with Dieter. He’s done nothing wrong and doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. I’m not gonna put up with it. I want you to apologize for trying to hit him. That was on you.” 

I don’t want his fucking apology. 

“I’ll do whatever you want, just let me come home with you tonight. Please? So, we can talk, and I can show you how sorry I am. Let me make it up to you.” 

She puffed air through her cheeks before nodding, “Fine. Whatever.” 

I felt sick. I needed to leave. It felt like the walls were closing in on me and everything was suddenly too loud. Sweat was beading at the nape of my neck and running down my back. I felt like I was gonna have a fucking panic attack. 

I turned to leave, nearly bumping into Kat who was now holding Alec’s hand at her side. I just stared at them wide-eyed. I could see the concern on Kat’s face, but I didn’t care.

“Dieter man, listen…I’m sor…” Alec started to say. 

“Save it. I don’t want your fucking apology.” 

I glanced down at Kat, “Enjoy your evening. I’m not feeling well, I need to go.” 

I could hear Kat calling after me as I left the staging area and moved toward my dressing room. I quickly changed out of my costume and stuffed it into the dry cleaning bag, sitting it outside my door for pickup. I closed the door behind me and locked it. I sat down in the chair, my head in my hands as I fought to control my breathing. The tears pooled in my eyes as I tried to reason through why I was reacting like this. It wasn’t normal. The hurt was too much. 

I was startled from my thoughts by a loud knock on the door. 

“Dieter, are you in there?” It was Kat. I didn’t answer her. 

My phone buzzed with several incoming text messages. They were from her, but I didn’t bother to look at them. I couldn’t. 

I exhaled slowly, running my hands down my face. What is my fucking problem? It was then that the realization finally hit me. I was in love with her. “Fuck.”

Next: Week 4

A/N: Y'all ready to come at me with pitchforks? Don't worry, it won't last long. Alec is a class A fuck up. You know it's only a matter of time. So, there was a lot that went down in this chapter. Now that you've read Dieter's side, who do you think is down worse, Dieter or Kat? There was a lot of flirty banter in this chapter and I am here for it. Do we think Kat was intentionally flirting? What do we think about them singing together? I can confirm, this will not be the only time that happens... We got a small glimpse of plant dad and cat dad Dieter in this part. Are we swooning yet? How much did we love Dieter being a smart ass to Alec during dress rehearsals? I feel like we need more snarky Dieter. What about Dieter's revelation at the end? How do you think that is going to affect his interactions with Kat going forward? Now for some fun stuff... a big shout out to @readingiskeepingmegoing for introducing me to one of the music artist featured in this chapter. I. AM. OBSESSED. The three songs referenced in this chapter are linked below as well as their performance song. I have also included another fun Cha Cha video that I took inspo from.

CP Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @morallyinept

@survivingandenduring  @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love

@readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981

@guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty

@rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte

@timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions @myloveistoolittle @for-a-longlongtime 

@copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter @burntheedges @stevie75

@bunniboo0015 @quicax3 jackie923 @sherala007 @pastelnap @pedrostories

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine @jessthebaker @rebel-held @gwendibleywrites @senorabond

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

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

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

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #dancing dieter #cat dad dieter #plant dad dieter #soft dieter #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo x ofc #closed position series #Spotify

[kaysfanficcorner]

Celebrity Crush, Part 1

Author’s note: I know I should be writing chapter 9 of Out of this World, but I finally watched The Bubble over the weekend and Dieter Bravo temporarily took over my brain. I promise that Din’s still in there and he’ll be back soon. This is just a cute little one off ficlet that will likely consist of a series of one-shots. If you like my writing, please feel free to check out my Din series Out of This World.

Masterlist

Summary: Dieter Bravo makes a new friend and tries desperately not to fuck things up for once.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, drug use (weed), light sexual tension, if you are under the age of 18 you are prohibited from this work of fiction. Minors DNI.

AO3

*****

Charming.

That’s the best word he can think of to describe the energetic, voluptuous woman before him. Sure, she’s fucking gorgeous and he’s already daydreaming about bending her over and fucking her right there in the secluded little corner of the coffee shop, but Jesus fucking Christ is she fucking charming. 

The ease with which she cracks silly jokes, laughing brightly at her own sense of humor. The genuine excitement she displays as she talks about things for which she feels passionately. The little smile she sends his way from across the table every now and again. He can tell she’s nervous, who wouldn’t be, but she’s handling herself so beautifully in spite of it. 

Dieter Bravo, currently living in New York for a lengthy stint in the theater, finds himself in the midst of the most cliché fucking meet cute of all time. She’d been rushing around the corner with an iced coffee in one hand and a phone in the other, and he’d been rushing around the same corner struggling to get a freshly rolled joint lit in the cool autumn breeze. Neither of them had been paying attention to their surroundings, and so the two had collided right into one another. His joint, broken in half and rendered useless, laid soaking in the creamy tan puddle from her fallen cup.

She’d apologized profusely, going so far as to offer him one of the THC gummies from her purse to make up for the destroyed joint. He tells her that he’ll only take a gummy if she’ll let him replace her coffee, to which she agrees. It’s the least he can do when it was equally his fault. His favorite spot for coffee is only a few blocks away, so he leads her there and they get to chatting along the way. He’s surprised by how easy she is to talk to while they are standing in line to order, and soon enough he’s seated across from her in a secluded booth on the second floor even though he’d intended to just replace the coffee and fuck off. Now she’s seated across from him at his usual table, the staff knows him well enough to make sure no one else sits near him while he’s there. The second floor of Hellfire Roasters, a satanic themed coffee shop, is all theirs until they choose to leave. 

Which turns out to not be for a long while. He wasn’t expecting to stay for very long. He figured that he’d get her the coffee, take the gummy, and move on with his day. But then he really gets to talking with her, and he can’t seem to physically pull himself out of this social interaction. He’s glued to his seat, even after the awkwardness of his identity is brought up and subsequently glossed over. She’d known who he was from the second they’d bumped into each other, but it doesn’t seem to effect how genuine she is. 

Apparently she just turned thirty, deciding to uproot her entire life to move to New York on a whim. She tells him that she woke up one day and realized that she couldn’t let her life pass her by anymore. So she threw away half of her belongings and emptied out her savings account to get a tiny little apartment with a friend of hers who also wanted to try out life in the big city. The gorgeous creature seated across from him wants to get into the film industry, horror specifically. She’d actually just been leaving a successful job interview to work on a very small indie film when he’d accidentally knocked her victory coffee from her hand. It’s endearing to hear her speak so bright eyed and bushy tailed about the industry which has been slowly sucking the life from him for the last couple of years. It reminds him of himself when he’d first started out, before he won the Oscar and everything slowly went to shit.

“So yeah, Fright Night from 1985 is the reason I decided I wanted to make monster movies.” She says, eyes sparkling.

He can’t help but grin over his cup, “I mean that’s a great reason, it’s such a great fucking movie that not enough people talk about. Classic 80s schlocky bullshit with John Hughes-ish teen high school kids thrown in? The Peter Vincent shit is also such a fun homage to Hammer Horror.”

“So you weren’t posturing, you do know your horror shit after all.” She sends a cheekily little grin his way, and he knows he’s fucking done for right then and there. 

“You’re pretty when you’re being a smart ass,” he flirts, hoping that it gets the point across without coming on too strong. He’s gotten a lot better when it comes to begging people he just met to fuck him.

“So I’ve been told.” Another cheeky grin finds her lips, this time with the straw of her pumpkin iced coffee nestled between her teeth before she takes a sip. He might start begging soon if she keeps that up.

“M’sure you have, muñequita,” he replies back. “So what specifically about Fright Night does it for you? Like, if this is your favorite movie of all time then there’s got to be multiple reasons.” 

She shrugs, “I dunno, I just love everything about it. The performances, the effects and make up, the humor, the unresolved vampire romance. It’s got everything.” 

“Unresolved vampire romance?”

Her eyes widen as she gawks at him. “Oh my god, do you not remember? When Jerry has that old painting in his house that looks like Amy, Amanda Bearse’s character, in the past. The one dude even says something like ‘she looks just like her’, and later in the movie Jerry just tells Amy something vague like ‘she’s someone I knew a long time ago.’ But that’s all they ever do with it. It used to piss me off that they didn’t go further into that backstory. Charley and Amy defeat Jerry and get to have a happy ending. What about Jerry’s happy ending? I’ve always wanted someone to make a monster movie where the monster actually succeeds in getting the girl, and when no movies like that ever came out I figured I just have to make it myself then.” 

He’s in awe of her, adoring every second of her passionate rantings. She even does little voices when saying the quotes from the film, and Dieter is practically in shambles because of this adorable movie nerd. “You might be the most interesting person I’ve met this year,” he says honestly when she’s finished.

She scoffs, waving him off. “It’s only October, you’ve still got a few months left.” 

He shakes his head, “I highly doubt I’m going to meet anyone better than you between now and January. Or ever, really.”

*****

You’re blushing, trying to hide how much what he just said affects you. This can’t be fucking real. This sort of thing happens in cringey fanfiction, not in real life. Play it cool, dickweed, you have to talk yourself off the ledge before addressing the Academy Award Winner before you. You have no idea how you’re still keeping yourself composed at this point, but he’s easy to talk to so that helps. It’s frankly shocking that he’s being so chill, given that his reputation as a wild man used to proceed him.

“Oh stop,” you gush, “I’m sure you’re going to meet someone way cooler than me later today. You’re Dieter fucking Bravo.”

Dieter shakes his head of messy brown hair, and watching it move about is mesmerizing. “Not a fucking chance! You take the cake, muñequita. I never meet people like you. You have good taste in horror, you’re charming.”

You shake your head, feeling the calming effects of the gummy as little waves of pleasure circulate through your nervous system. Hearing this man of all people say things like that to you might very well break you if you let it. So you change the subject, “I don’t know about you but I’m definitely high. I feel like my edible hit harder than I expected it to and all of this is in my head. Or when we bumped into each other, I actually fell and hit my head so now I’m in a coma. There’s no way I’m sitting across from you of all people, having a cup of coffee and a great conversation. I’ve lived in New York for a week and I’ve already had the best celebrity encounter of all time.”

“Who’s your favorite?” He asks suddenly, leaning forward a little as his brow swoops down to a more serious face. It’s nearly too much for you, how handsome he truly is suddenly taking hold.

“F-favorite what?”

“Celebrity,” he draws out the word, his voice driving you wild internally. Watching his hand gestures as he talks isn’t helping much either.

You choke on the pumpkin latte a little, your own brow shooting up towards your hairline. “I don’t know how to answer that,” you say earnestly. 

“Oh come on. We’re already here, you might as well just be honest.” Dieter pushes, practically poking at you with a stick. 

“You promise not to think I’m a lunatic stalker who ran into you on purpose?” 

“Promise.”

“Honestly? It’s you.” 

He scoffs, “You’re just saying that.” 

You chuckle, knowing you must look as awkward as you feel. “I’m pretty sure the original painting of yours that I have hanging in my living room would beg to differ. My mom special ordered it as a birthday slash housewarming gift because she knew I’ve always wanted one. Your style is so dark and raw. I love it.” 

*****  

Dieter can’t help it. The self centered part of him, the reason he enjoys being a celebrity despite the isolation, is so thrilled to hear this revelation from you. “So… why me? I’m curious.”

You mull this over for a long while, sipping from your iced coffee as you look at his face. It’s insane how calm you are right now. “There was that one horror movie you did early on in your career,” you start, being cut off for a moment when Dieter interrupts you.

“Oh fuck,” he says knowingly, “no one ever talks about that.” 

“I mean, it’s a little outdated at this point but you were so good in it. The fact that no one talks about it is such a crime. First you think its a ghost movie, then it turns out to be a slasher movie, and then you turn out to be the killer? What a fucking ride that was the first time I saw it. I had such a crush on you after that even though you were way older than me. Nearly wore out the VHS tape because I would watch your scenes over and over.” Then your hand flies to your mouth, unable to stop that last sentence before it already left your lips. “Oh Jesus, that is so embarrassing.”

Dieter chuckles, shaking his head as he grins at you. His earring is distracting. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Most people have a celebrity crush.” 

Your face is on fire. “Yeah but most people don’t get to have a cup of coffee and split an edible with their celebrity crush.” 

He leans back in his chair, taking a sip from his London fog. “I guess you should thank your lucky stars, then. And I should thank mine that you’re not a total fucking weirdo.” 

“Oh, I’m definitely a weirdo. Just not a stalker,” you chuckle, feeling at ease once again.

The two of you sit there for another two and a half hours, chatting about movies and music and drugs and everything else under the sun that you’re both interested in. He ends up ordering the both of you food when he realizes that he’s completely missed the lunch meeting he was supposed to have. Fuck ‘em. You are way more interesting than whoever he was supposed to meet. It wasn’t a meeting about a job, so fuck it. 

Dieter knows he could sit there and talk to you all night, but curtains go up in three hours and if he doesn’t get to the theater soon the director and his agent are going to actually kill him. He knows that one of the missed calls that just vibrated in his pocket has to have been one of them. You’re mid sentence about your favorite food, and he has to interrupt you even though it pains him to do so. 

Dieter looks you over after the interruption, and you can’t help but think that he looks almost nervous. “Sorry to cut you off, but I really have to get going. I’d say that I hate to be forward, but that would be a lie. Can I give you my number? It was really nice to meet you and get to know you a little. I wouldn’t mind seeing you again.” 

You’re so floored by this that your mouth hangs open and you nod dumbly. He holds his hand out expectantly and you just stare at it for a moment before realizing that he wants your phone. Plucking the thing out from your purse, you pull up the contact book and hand it over. Dieter smiles across the table at you, the tip of his tongue poking out from the left side of his mouth as he types. Then he takes a silly selfie. On your phone. Dieter Bravo just took a selfie on your phone. 

He hands your personal device back over, and you look down a the newly added contact.  It says “Celebrity Crush” instead of his name and the accompanying picture is the selfie he just bestowed upon you. Its the cutest picture of him you’ve ever seen, and you get to keep the only copy of it all to yourself. 

“Well if you get to do that then give me your phone,” you say, holding your hand out in the same way he had to you. He gives you a similar but newer model of the phone you’ve had for several years, so you make quick work of adding your contact information. After taking a similarly silly selfie and handing it back over, you chuckle as Dieter reads what you input into his contacts. 

“Coffee Shop Weirdo,” he reads out loud, “that’s perfect. And this picture is fucking cute.” 

“Thanks,” you blush, cheeks heating up. “You better get going, Bravo. Maybe I’ll come see your show next week.” 

Dieter’s face lights up, becoming that of a wound up puppy before a bowl of fresh kibble. “If you want to come tonight I’ll have them save you a ticket at the box office. Doesn’t have to be tonight if you’re busy, but if you’re not and you want to.”

“Are you sure it’s not too late notice? I heard it was sold out for opening week.” 

Dieter shoots you an incredulous look, “I’m the star. I can get you a fucking ticket.” 

After a millisecond of hesitation you agree, knowing that this entire day has been a once in a lifetime kind of day. From getting the job, to meeting Dieter, to this invitation. This is the kind of life changing shit you’ve been aching for. “Okay, sure. I’d love to see your acting chops live. I’ll just run home and change into something nice and head over to the theater.” 

“Perfect,” he breathes, grinning ear to ear. “I’ll be on the lookout for you after the show.” 

“Great, thank you. And thank you again for lunch. This was nice.” 

“Yeah it was, wasn’t it?” Then his phone starts vibrating with the fifth call in a row and he groans, tapping the green answer button with his ringed thumb and placing the thin device to his ear. He immediately pulls it back out a few inches with a grimace when the voice on the other end starts screaming at him. “Fuck, Barbra. You don’t have to fucking scream at me. I’ll be there soon, I’m only ten blocks from the theater.” 

You can hear the shrill female voice clearly ask, “What in the name of fuck was so important that you didn't come back from your lunch break for three fucking hours?”

Dieter looks directly to you and grins, “I was making a new friend.” 

“I swear to fucking god, Bravo. You better not be back to your old habits. You fucking promised me that shit was done. If you weren’t making me so much money right now I’d fucking kill you myself.” 

“Love you too, Babs. See you soon,” Dieter says cheerfully as he hangs up. 

“Sorry I got you into trouble,” you offer awkwardly, feeling a little bad that he’s late because of you even though you’re well aware that he could have left at any time. 

He stands, gesturing for you to join him as he laughs a little. “I can assure you that I’m the only one who ever gets myself into trouble, muñequita. Don’t worry about my agent, I can handle her. She’s a bitch and a half but they all are and she gets me good gigs like this Shakespeare show.” 

Dieter leads you to the exit of the coffee shop, leaving a generous tip with the barista on the way out. Once outside he dons his shades and pulls the collar of his black pea coat up in an attempt to not be noticed by anyone. He’s late enough as it is, he doesn’t need to stop for selfies fifty times on his way to work. 

“I really do hope you come to the show tonight,” he says, looking down at you as he scratches the back of his head. What you wouldn’t give to run your fingers through that fluffy hair of his.

You grin up at him, “It’ll be a close call with the train but if I’m quick about changing my clothes, I should make it back to this end of town just in time. I’ll be there, Dieter.” 

His very genuine smile melts your heart right then and there. Fuck, this is about to get complicated.  

“Great!” Your celebrity crush says, “See you tonight!” 

And then he’s gone as quickly as he had appeared, around a corner and out of sight in all but a moment. You head for the nearest train station, having to use your gps since you’re nowhere near accustomed to life in New York just yet. The city is so huge that it’s overwhelming when you’re tying to go somewhere quickly. 

After sending a text to your roommate that you’ll be home soon and that you have something fucking insane to tell him, you get ready to board the train heading towards your little apartment in Queens with a podcast playing in your ear buds. Soon enough, as in like an hour later, you’re back home and frantically looking for a nice dress to wear to Dieter’s play. It’s bad enough that fancy clothes aren’t really something you ever bothered to have on hand before moving to the city, but the fact that you’re not done unpacking doesn’t help your case either. 

“So you mean to tell me,” Henry, your best friend of over a decade and the only person crazy enough to move to New York with you, is standing in your doorway with a cup of instant noodles in his hands. He’s speaking between slurps of broth, “that the dude who I have to look at a hideous Funko Pop of whenever I go into the kitchen met you on the street, bought you lunch, gave you his number, and invited you to see his play for free? How much of those edibles did you take today?” 

“I’m not high, you fucking asshole.” Gritting your teeth, you glare at Henry before upending a box of clothes right on top of your bed. 

“Yes you are,” Henry grins, laughing as he dodges the small black throw pillow you throw his way.

You roll your eyes, digging around the pile of clothing, “Okay, yeah, I’m high. But I’m always a little high and everything I just told you really fucking happened. I showed you the picture he left in my camera roll, I can’t make this shit up!”  

Henry taps a finger to his chin, feigning deep thought. “How do I know that wasn’t from instagram and this isn’t some sort of break in your psyche because you read too much fanfiction about that space character he plays. You know, the funko pop in the kitchen?” 

“Oh god, I should delete my tumblr.” 

Just as you say that, your phone goes off with a little ding. A feeling you haven’t felt in a long time, titillating anticipation at a text from someone of the opposite sex, arises within you when you glance over and see the name of the contact.

“Oh my god. He fucking texted me,” you start to bounce around the room, “I can’t open it. What if he’s like ‘never mind don’t come and delete my number’?”

“You’re a crazy bitch, but I love you dearly,” Henry says, moving to grab your phone. You try to snatch it from him but he’s a good bit taller than you and holds it up so that you cannot reach. He unlocks the phone with ease, having known your password for years. “Two texts from ‘Celebrity Crush.’ Ugh, really? That’s so corny, but for some reason I don’t hate it.” 

“Oh my god you fucking dick, what did he say?!” You’re practically jumping up and down grabbing for your phone. 

“Text one: Your ticket is at the box office. I left them your name so just make sure you have your ID.” Henry reads the message, pretending to fan himself. “Oh my this is hot stuff. Text two… Oh… well this is quite a development.”

The way he says that makes you feel horrified, lunging for the phone once more. “What?! Is it a dick pic or something?!”

“Pfft, I wish. No, text two says: I can’t stop thinking about how good Fright Night is thanks to you. I haven’t seen it in years. If you’re not busy after the show, would you want to come back to my place and watch it?” Henry gapes at you, finally relinquishing the phone. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit! What do I say?” You look down at the two messages and then back up to your best friend with pleading eyes.

Henry looks you up and down, putting a hand on your shoulder.  “If this really isn’t you fucking with me, then for the love of Christ say yes!” 

You take a few deep breaths, “Okay, okay. I can do this. Go make me something to eat please so I can get dressed and get the fuck out of here.” 

Henry starts to leave your room but turns in the doorway to look back at you. “Wear the black dress from New Years 2018. Don’t pack anything, that way you have to wear his clothes if you spend the night. Speaking from personal experience, when your booty call wears your clothes its a huge turn on. And make sure your location is on so I can come rescue you if he’s a secret serial killer. I know you love him because he played one once, hopefully that was just a role.” 

“Noted. Go make me food before I throw something at you, please.” You send a joker-like grin his way and watch as your best friend walks off with a laugh. Then you glance back down to your messages with Dieter, seeing that he’s typing again. 

Celebrity Crush: Hey sorry to bother you again, just wanted to say no pressure about coming over. I know we just met. 😅

Feeling badly about leaving him hanging long enough to make him doubt himself, you quickly tap out a response. 

Coffee Shop Weirdo: Hey Dieter, thanks again for scoring me a ticket. If you think you’ll really feel up to it after preforming, I’d love to come over and watch Fright Night with you. 😊

The typing bubble pops up immediately after your text shows as read, causing a little smile to tug at your lips and a flutter in your belly. 

Celebrity Crush: Great! I’m looking forward to seeing you again. Stay put after the show and I’ll come find you. 

Coffee Shop Weirdo: I’m looking forward to seeing you again too. So glad you knocked my coffee out of my hands today. 

Celebrity Crush: Oh so it was all me now, huh? I see how it is, muñequita. 🤨

You highlight the word muñequita, clicking the translate button to confirm that it’s Spanish for little doll, and your grin widens even more.

Coffee Shop Weirdo: You flirting with me, Bravo?

A moment goes by with the message having been read, then the typing bubble pops up again. 

Celebrity Crush:  Yeah, if you’re okay with that.

Coffee Shop Weirdo: I’m definitely okay with that.

Celebrity Crush: I’m getting called away. Wont be able to message you again until the show’s over. Be safe getting to the theater, see you soon. 

Coffee Shop Weirdo:  See you soon. Break a leg 🦴 

After sending the last text, you manage to find the black dress from 2018 that Henry suggested. He’s right, its perfect. Floor length with a slit up the right thigh, the sparkly long sleeved gown is perfect for the occasion you so desperately need it for. True to your own sense of style, you pair it with ankle length black combat boot platforms and black accessories. 

Henry brings you a cup of noodles which you practically inhale before getting dressed and quickly attending to your hair and makeup. 

Soon enough you’re back on the train, heading for the theater district feeling as if you’re living someone else’s life because this can’t possibly be yours. 

*****

@missbabyjay you’re welcome 😉

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #dieter x reader #pedro pascal characters #the bubble #reader insert #x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal character x reader

[oonajaeadira]

For the Love of Fic: November 20

Heyo! I've been just parking read fic here for a while and didn't realize how long it was getting! And then I used my wait times in Disney to read a bunch more.... anyway. I've got a long list of fun for you!

Also, I'm really sorry, this is the dumbest header I've ever made but it made me laugh so here we are.

🪐 = Year of Themed Creation Fics!

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DIETER BRAVO

Dieter, Dieter, Pumpkin Eater by @coulsons-fullmetal-cellist I can't decide what I love more: Dieter getting frisky in a bouncy castle or his gleeful exclamations when the goats take to him. I want this. I want all of it. Sign me up. Crocs and all.

Tip Your Server by @nothoughtsjustmeds I love love love this fic. I love Dieter needing to get reader all hot and bothered while wearing fancy clothes, I love the banter, I love the obvious love these two have, the cavalier throw-away of a precious object, every gesture of affection and its tie to absolute, loving sass. And the prose is so great. This is a masterclass fic.

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JOEL MILLER

Strong Enough To Stand by @the-blind-assassin-12 Oof. This both hurt and was satisfying. Joel has a habit of holding onto love and hurt. It's definitely detrimental at times. But damn if it doesn't illustrate how fiercely he loves. Alyssa's lead up story to this--It Pours From Your Eyes--nearly destroyed me, but this one thankfully helped to soothe.

Surrender Chapter 13 and Chapter 14 by @ezrasbirdie Birdie gave us a beautiful reunion and ending for Daisy and Joel and I'm just so proud of her for putting her heart into a wonderful OC. There's so much in this series about learning to love and--even more interesting--learning to BE loved, and both Joel and Daisy are wonderful for that. I know there's an epilogue coming and I will patiently wait for my desert while this meal of a fic settles in my heart.

Saying I love you through an accidental kiss by @songsformonkeys Listen. Joel Miller's got a lot going on today and it's chaotic and you made him food and took care of Sarah and you...you reached for him first. SOFT! CUTENESS!

Spend All Your Love Making Time by @haylzcyon Sub!Joel is my new favorite obsession. He's just so in LOVE with reader, so in thrall and this is hot hot hot.... Those baby browns are certainly made for puppydog wants....

Something Soft by @keldabe-kriff 🪐 Everyone knows what you do with dandelions, right? Until an apocalypse wipes off even the tiniest things from human culture. Then kids like Ellie may not understand the simple joy of making a wish on one. Good thing there's folks like Joel who remember and help her out.

Joel, Interrupted by @iamskyereads This is both melancholy and warm, and that is such a welcome taste. It is quiet and lovely and the last line gave me so many feelings. If Joel was a ghost in his own house, this is exactly how he'd be. <3

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MARCUS MORENO

Not All Heroes Wear Capes by @all-the-things-2020 🪐 I love "fandom crossovers" as a year of tropes offering. ST:TNG was one of my big fandom obsessions, so it's nice to return to some of those characters. Putting a Pedro boy in there is inspired, and this was handled so well!!!

If It Wasn't For The Nights by @simpingcowboy 🪐 Marcus is just made for angst, isn't he. It's obvious how much he loved his wife and how much he loves their daughter. Going inside to examine that is just asking for a heart twist....

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JAVI GUTIERREZ

The Last Blockbuster: Bump in the Night by @blueeyesatnight I love these two slacker filmophiles and am always happy to see them return to my dash. This time it's a test of readers' spine, to see if she can handle the scary movies like she says she can. I appreciate the appearance of another movie memorabilia piece...🦇🦇🦇

IRL part 1 @ nickcage_numerouno and part 2: of festivals and food by @grogusmum I love that both these dopes are so insecure about meeting one another. Javi is sweet and wonderful like always, and it's nice to get his POV here and there as our plus-size reader deals with her own assumptions. But oh my gosh he's smitten and if there's gonna be a part 3 I'll lose my mind.

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COMANDANTE VERACRUZ

When it Comes to You... by @flightlessangelwings 🪐 I mean, if anyone's gonna get violently protective over his girl, it just might be Veracruz. I mean, to make you his priority during an ambush? To come back victorious and rail the crap out of you afterward? That's the dream....

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DAVE YORK

First Kill by @hopeamarsu 🪐 Holy balls, this is a beautiful little character study on Dave. Hope goes inside his head during a therapists' session where he's asked about his first kill, and it is menacing AF. Take a look at this piece, because it is bomb.

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EZRA

Gravity by @insomniamamma 🪐 J has a way with Ezra that I'm just addicted to. I know she loves him deeply, always takes so much care with him, gets his soft side just right. She makes me yearn so very hard for this man...his physical gracelessness a grand contrast to the gracefulness of his devotion. My goodness, I love this fic.

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PERO TOVAR

untitled by @writeforfandoms Listen. It's a little mixed trope drabble about Pero as your bodyguard that might not mind being mistaken for your boyfriend and I could take 10K of this thanks.

Bangathon fics Cowgirl and Missionary by @prolix-yuy I may be a broken record, but I just cannot get enough of a solem and sour protector who only shows his vulnerability behind closed doors. I knew better than to read LJ's take on him and expect to remain unmelted.

Grumpy Pumpkin by @sirowsky This is just the very cutest. Of course Pero knows his way around knives, but pumpkin carving doesn't go exactly as you planned. In fact, it goes much sweeter.

Seed by @perotovar I love a Pero that is hot for his wife whether or not she can concieve. And that the want for a baby that hasn't come yet doesn't make them sad...it just makes them want to try harder! Soft and sweet and spicy all at once. Just like I like him.

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FRANKIE MORALES

Ring Toss by @morallyinept Look. It's a simple concept. Frankie brings you donuts because Frankie loves you. You're resisting because you're on some silly diet. Donuts have holes. Frankie's got something that will fit in that hole. One temptation is bad enough, but two sticky treats together? Resistance is futile.

Questions and Stories part 1 and part 2 by @never--doubt 🪐 I love this concept of Frankie and reader's daughter asking them how they met and functioned as soulmates, how love takes work, and the mechanic of not being able to see one particular color until your aoulmate finds you....

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EDDIE THE VAMPIRE (WITH MAX PHILLIPS)

An Act of Kindness by @missredherring This is a very sweet intro to a really lovely dynamic between a vampire reader and a fledgling. Oh my balls, Eddie needs help and she's such a good teacher. And he's so smitten with her in the cutest way... And of course, Max being Max, which is to say, Max being a douche.

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JAVIER PEÑA

Summer Kiss Prompt - Apology Kiss by @something-tofightfor I cannot deal when strong men recognize thier trauma and try to do better. It's clear here that Javi hasn't learned how to let someone else take the lead with him yet, but the growth that's comes is beautiful.

Summer Kiss Prompt - Lazy Kiss by @something-tofightfor Rachael does slice of life so well. There's something very wonderful about Javi's focus on his work to the point where he forgets to take care of himself, and maybe even lovlier about the woman who makes sure he eats something and has himself a break now and then...

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TIM ROCKFORD

Rockford and Roan 4 by @littlemisspascal I am so in love with Rae's soft soulmate stories, she always knows how to warm my heart. This one has some darker elements what with Tim investigating crimes....BUT THERE'S ALSO A DOG THIS TIME.

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DIN DJARIN

Ambrosial by @spacecowboyhotch A soft and lovely story staring a black reader, wherein Din learns about the ritual and culture of her hair, how it links her to her family, how much a part of her it is...and therefore how much a part of himself. I just wanna curl up in this, it's so cozy.

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SPECIAL GUEST CORNER

FENNEC SHAND

A Different Way of Life by @ghostofskywalker 🪐 Yes. Yes this is what I want. To run away for adventure only to find I really ran away with the love of my life...who just happens to be a bounty hunter and a ton of fun.

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DICK GRAYSON

Seasons of Love by @captainsophiestark 🪐 I don't know much about this character, but he seems very sweet and loving. A jump through time in a relationship involving ties to the Wayne family.

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#for the love of fic #the bubble fanfic #dieter bravo #tlou fanfic #joel miller #wcbh fanfic #marcus moreno #tuwomt fanfic #javi gutierrez #fall of sam axe fanfic #comandante veracruz #star wars fanfic #fennec shand #equalizer 2 fanfic #dave york #prospect fanfic #ezra #the great wall fanfic #pero tovar #triple frontier fanfic #frankie morales #Btvs fanfic #Eddie the vampire #Narcos fanfic #javier peña #Merge mansion fanfic #Tim rockford #dick grayson #batman fanfic #mandalorian fanfic

[chiriwritesstuff]

The New Girl in Tinseltown; Chapter 3 - Fake Smile

A Dieter Bravo x Actress! Reader PR Marriage AU

Previous Chapter │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: It's the weekend after, and it's back to reality for Doll and Dieter. Of course, the public is loving their sudden nuptials, but what about the important people in Doll's inner circle? Will they believe her through her lies? Meanwhile, Dieter will stop at nothing to prove that what they have between the two of them is real...

Chapter Warnings and Tags: (Not So) meet cute, PR Relationships, what happens in Vegas ends up in the headlines, Dieter just does not give a FUCK, Smut lite, a look at the inner workings of Tinseltown and the sleaziness it comes with, Dieter and his fucking paintbrush, A hell of a lot of dirty banter, is that yearning?, mentions of devious deeds by sleazy people in show business, we introduce a few more characters, SLOW BURN WE DONT KNOW IT, this is unhinged, no use of y/n, Someone gets a name reveal, No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 7.3K (it seems like I can just go on and on and on...)

Song Inspo: ‘Fake Smile’ - Ariana Grande

The first time you found yourself in hot water with the media, it was all because of a little misunderstanding.

A stupid one, yes, but in Hollywood, things like simple misunderstandings were paydirt in the world of the paparazzi. What was even more fucked up was the more stupid the situation, the more they ate it up, and the more money they could make from you making a complete ass of yourself. 

TMZ News Flash: Up and-coming starlet arrested for assault of a homeless woman, maintains that it was a misunderstanding-

It was a few months into your career, and you found yourself recovering from a harsh casting call that left you feeling defeated. With your cap pulled low and sunglasses shielding your eyes, you dodged the paparazzi lurking outside the building where the audition was being held. Being labeled Hollywood's newest darling had thrust you into the spotlight faster than you could prepare for, and it felt like everyone was just waiting for you to slip up. It was only a matter of time...

“Look, Alex,” you whisper into your phone, pulling your sweater tight around you, and looking at your surroundings nervously. “I’m not going to land every role I audition for, it was just a bad case of nerves… anyway, give Mum and Dad my love, I’m about to head into the next audition-“ you tell your sister, checking your watch as you hurriedly make your way towards your destination a few buildings down. “… I love you, too. Speak soon, alright? Tell Zoe I love her.” 

Lost in your thoughts and the frustration of the day, you hurried along the sidewalk, oblivious to the world around you, when, suddenly, you are accosted by a homeless woman, her cup outstretched, her plea for spare change hanging in the air.

"Some change?" she asks, her cup dangerously close to your face. "I'm cold and hungry-"

You reach into your purse, fumbling for some coins. "Here you go," you offer, dropping them into her cup without a second thought.  

Instead of the dull thud of the change hitting the bottom of the cup, you're met with the tell-tell sound of a tiny splash, the homeless woman's eyes widening in shock and tiny horror.

"What the fuck, lady?" she screams, looking at her ruined cup of coffee. "Just because I'm out here begging for money doesn't mean you can be an asshole about it!"

"Oh shit, I am so sorry... wait, let me just run to Starbucks and get you a new one-" you stammer, your eyes scanning for the nearest coffee shop. You pull your sunglasses down slightly, squinting as you spot a café on the corner.

The woman tsks at you, her expression shifting as she suddenly recognizes you. "Hey, aren't you that actress from that movie-"

Your heart sinks as you freeze, the knot in your throat tightening. "Uh, yeah, that's me," you admit, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on you. "I really didn't mean to, I thought the cup was empty-"

"No way!" she exclaims, her voice drawing attention as she gestures wildly. "You're one of those celebs with the paparazzi on your tail, aren't you? Hey, you there!" She points to a man hiding nearby with a camera, catching his attention. "She just dumped her change in my coffee cup!"

"No, please," you whisper urgently to the woman, ducking as the man approaches, camera poised. "I just lost them, please, I can't deal with-"

"Doll! Doll!" he shouts, snapping pictures rapidly as you try to shield yourself. "How'd the audition go? What movie was it for?"

"No comment," you respond curtly, raising your arms to block the shots, the homeless woman's protests growing louder in the background.

"She just tossed her coins in my cup, what a clueless bimbo!" she shouts, gripping your hand and pulling you closer. "Hey, where do you think you're going? You still owe me a coffee!"

"Please, I don't want to make a scene-" You struggle to break free, but in the chaos, your purse swings out, accidentally smacking the woman across the face as you tumble to the ground.

"You bitch!" she screams, clutching her cheek. "Did you see that? She attacked me-"

"No, it was an accident, I swear!" you plead, but your voice is drowned out by the relentless clicks of the cameras.

Later, at the police station on La Cienega.  

"Doll," your publicist murmurs as he guides you out the back entrance of the police station, shielding your face from the frenzy of paparazzi. With a protective arm around you, he ushers you into the waiting car, pushing aside the relentless onslaught of cameras.

Once safely inside the Lincoln Continental, you both exhale in relief as Nathan orders the driver to go, the sound of the engine drowning out the chaos outside.

"I warned you about this," Nathan sighs, glancing at his buzzing phone. "I told you things would get crazy after 'Little Star' hit theaters. You can't afford to be careless now. What were you thinking, getting yourself into a situation like that?"

"I don't know, Nate," you sigh, "... maybe I wasn't thinking," you admit, frustration evident in your voice. "How was I supposed to know that trying to do a good deed was going to backfire like this? It's not like I approached her, she took me by surprise!"

"But did you need to assault the poor woman?" he exclaims, his brow raised in disbelief.  

You give him a look, crossing your arms across your chest as you gaze outside the car window. 'I apologized, alright? It's not like she's the one suffering from all of this, I missed the audition, only because I thought I was doing her a favor! Fuck!"

Nathan shakes his head, his expression a mixture of concern and exasperation. "Look. I get it, but you're not just anyone anymore, Doll. Every move you make is under a microscope. We need damage control, fast... and maybe some media training while we're at it. It's like trying to tame a fucking feral cat or something-"

You nod, feeling the weight of his words. "Yeah, I know. We'll figure it out. But for now, let's just get out of here."

As the car pulls away from the chaos outside, you sink back into your seat, feeling the exhaustion seeping into your bones. This was just the beginning of a long battle against public scrutiny, and you knew it was going to be a tough fight.

The next time you found yourself in the headlines for a scandal, it was when the tiny part of your mind decided that it was a good idea to get eloped with a man you barely even know.

Present Day. 8a - Meeting with your Publicist (Nathan 'The Shark' Smith)

WhatsApp Message from Dieter:  Are you there yet? Doll: Just parked. Sitting in my car outside of the studio. What are you doing up so early? I swear, you sleep like the dead. Dieter: Woke up to a cold bed. Maybe fuck the meeting with the Shark and come home. My cock misses you. I miss you.  Dieter: (Sends a picture of said cock, fully erect and the mushroom tip bright red and angry, with Dieter's face in a frown). Doll: I can't keep avoiding him, D. Plus, I have my screen test today. Your cock is just going to have to wait, sorry baby. Dieter: Could you just send me a photo of your tits at least?  

"What the fuck were you thinking, Doll?"

You roll your eyes as you flop onto your publicist's couch, crossing your arms around your chest. "Spare me the theatrics, Nathan. What's done is done, there's no point in dwelling in the past-"

"Do you have any idea just how much your little stunt is going to cost you? We were so close to landing Disney, and now I don't know how I'm going to convince them that you haven't lost your goddamn mind!" Nathan's voice reverberates through the room as he rips his glasses off his face.

"You pay me to protect you, to guide you down the right path, and you go and hook up with the first guy who winks at you? At a goddamn In-N-Out?! And let's not even talk about this sham of a marriage-"

"I was drunk, Nathan! I did what a normal person would have done if they drank as much as I did! And marrying Dieter isn't the end of the world! Maybe you need to loosen up a bit!"

"You don't even know him, Doll! This is as close to career suicide as it gets, and I'm not sure I want to try to salvage this mess!"

"Well, I don't know what to tell you. The damage is done! we just have to deal with it," you say defiantly, pulling out your phone.

"Maybe he roofied you or something," he mutters to himself, pacing back and forth. "If you want, we could take a drug test, maybe prove that somehow... he manipulated you into marrying him. Maybe, we could get the police involved, and you won't have to go through with this shit show! "

"There was no manipulation!" you retort, "these things happen all the damn time! how do you think these 24-hour drive-thru wedding chapels survive? I don't see the problem of two consenting adults agreeing to marry each other!"

"Have you seen what the news outlets have been saying about you? Half of them are already calling it a sham, while the other half thinks that you're knocked up!" he throws a stack of newspaper off his desk, the pages fluttering in the air as they land near where you sit. 

You reach for the top gossip magazine in the towering stack, and your heart sinks as you're greeted by a blown-up photo of you and Dieter in Marcus's convertible. Both of you have flushed faces, yet there's an undeniable spark of happiness in your eyes.  

Hollywood Sweetheart marries Hollywood Lothario Dieter Bravo at a Las Vegas Wedding Chapel after being caught having public sex at popular fast food spot In N Out...

You shake your head at that, tossing it back onto the table, not wanting to think of the implications and emotions behind the photo.  

"I don't give a damn about the news outlets!" you snap back, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Let them speculate all they want. I'm not going to let some gossip rags dictate my life."

Nathan sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Doll, you're playing with fire here. You're on the verge of ruining your career, and for what? A drunken mistake?"

"It's not just about that," you argue, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on you. "There's more to it than you realize."

"Then enlighten me," Nathan challenges, his tone softer now, a hint of concern seeping through his frustration. "Help me understand why you're willing to risk everything for someone you barely know."

"It's like he sees through all the bullshit," you murmur to Nathan, a pang of melancholy coloring your words. "While everyone else is busy painting me as this flawless figure, Dieter's the one who looks beyond the facade. He's not afraid to acknowledge the messy, imperfect parts of me, the ones I try to keep hidden."

With a sigh, you retrieve a cigarette from your purse and light it, the smoke swirling around you in the dimly lit room. "He's seen and experienced things most people shy away from, yet he's still unapologetically himself. There's a raw honesty to him that I find... refreshing."

 He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "Maybe it's best to give it a few months, let people think it wasn't a mistake, and just..." His voice trails off, the unspoken suggestion hanging in the air.

"Why do you think I'm in this industry? I am good at what I do, and besides... I don't think it would be that hard, pretending to be with him. He's... different, like a completely different person when he's with me. He has this way of making me feel-"

"Objectified? Like a good little slut for daddy?"

"Understood, Nathan," you reply sharply, stubbing the cigarette in the ashtray. "He makes me feel seen," you add with a sigh, a hint of vulnerability seeping into your tone. "Do you think we could wrap this up? I've got a screen test to prepare for."

"You sound like you're smitten with something," he snarks, typing away at his computer. "I don't know what to tell you, Doll," Nathan says, his tone laden with concern. "I just can't see this ending well. Dieter's like a disease, spreading toxicity wherever he goes. It's only a matter of time before he poisons you too."

9a. Trailer. 

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in, Mrs. Dieter Bravo, in the flesh!"

You put on the best fake smile you could muster, pulling your shades off as you enter your trailer, your 'glam squad' already waiting to help you prep for your screen test. "Good morning to you too, ladies," you reply, taking a sip of your coffee. "Shall we get started?"

"That's it, Doll? you're not gonna give us the scoop?" Your hairstylist teases, "You're just going to pretend like you didn't do something so fucking insane like getting hitched in Vegas? To Dieter Bravo of all people? Are we nothing to you?!" she exclaims, taking you by the shoulders as she playfully shoves you onto her chair.  

"I don't know what else I could tell you besides that yes, I got married over the weekend, I mean, it was all over TMZ for everyone to see-"

"I have to ask," Sofia chimes in, giving you a sly smile as she looks at you through the mirror, combing your hair back into a low ponytail. "Is he as big as they say he is?"

"You know, a normal person would say congratulations to someone who just got married."

"I mean, why waste time with congratulations when we can get down to the nitty-gritty? The people don't give a shit about the pleasantries, we wanna know about the good stuff. So, Spill: is he packing or not?"

"Sorry, Sof, a lady doesn't fuck and tell," you say with a saccharine smile, rolling your eyes.

"I'm shocked, honestly," your PA slash childhood best friend Daisy muses, typing away on her phone as she settles on the chair next to yours. "I had no idea you were seeing Dieter before this past weekend," she says with a hint of what someone could perceive as suspicion. "I'm glued to your side 24-7. Surely, I would have noticed that you were fucking him. Dieter Bravo isn't known for being subtle."

"Just because I live under a microscope doesn't mean I don't know how to keep things on the down low, Daisy. I can have a relationship and keep it secret from the world, celebrities do it all the time."

"What I don't understand is if you were so hell-bent on keeping your relationship with Dieter under wraps in the first place, why have such a shitshow of a wedding?" Daisy challenges, throwing her phone on the workspace in front of you as she turns to look at you, an unimpressed look on her face. "Something doesn't add up."

"What are you trying to say, Dais?" 

"I'm saying, you were seen sucking face with Adam Patterson at Sundance not even two weeks ago, so I think I'm trying to say that you're full of shit," she retorts, her eyes narrowed as she stares you down.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't play dumb, Doll. I know everything about your life, I'm your best friend, for fucks sake! If you were with Dieter Bravo, I would've known. I live right next door to you!"

"Well, maybe I just wanted something that was mine, Daisy. Don't I deserve that?"

She scoffs incredulously. "Does Alex know?"

"Of course Alex knows, she's my sister!" you counter, hoping she doesn't catch the slight waver in your voice, your tell when you're not telling the whole truth.

"BUT I'M YOUR BEST FRIEND! I COME FIRST!"

You're taken aback by Daisy's sudden outburst, Sofia and Poppy exchanging uncomfortable glances as the tension escalates. 

"So that's what this is about, then? You're just pissed because you found out like everyone else on TMZ? I'm entitled to privacy, Daisy! I have secrets. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but a relationship involves two people, and we both agreed to keep it quiet-"

"Oh spare me with that self-righteous bullshit, Doll!" she spits, rising from her seat. "This isn't you! It's like I'm talking to a fucking stranger right now!" She pushes past you as she makes her way out of the trailer. "You can have your secrets, but just remember, I know the ones that COUNT, remember that."

"Dais, come on, I said I'm sorry!" you call out after her, feeling a pang of guilt as she flicks you off and slams the trailer door shut.

"That went well," Sofia observes dryly as she starts working on your hair again. You wince a little as she smooths out the strands, already dreading what might come next.

"Hey Sof, instead of the braid, do you think we could leave my hair down? Maybe add some curls and give it that messy-but-sexy vibe?" you suggest, hoping for a change from the usual routine.

"I mean, yeah, that could look really hot, but Nate told me we were going for a more virginal look-" Sofia begins, her hesitation evident.

"Seriously? My character's supposed to be around my age, not some naive teenager," you argue, feeling exasperated. "Surely she wouldn't still be a virgin."

"You know what? You're right," Sofia concedes, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Sometimes us girlies just have a tough time finding love, right? That doesn't mean we can't look hot in the process! Wow Doll, look at you, spicing it up a bit! Finally! Should I send my gratitude to your new beau?"

You recall the way Dieter looked at you during the gala, his fingers gently brushing your hair back as he smiled warmly. "I love it when you wear your hair like this," he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. "It's so sexy, it's more you, you know?"

"Yeah, maybe," you breathe, smiling. "He likes it when my hair is down, but I think I like it, too." 

Sofia nods in agreement, smiling at you through the mirror. "I think I like it, too. Look at you," she teases. "Little miss sweetheart, growing up."

Later, after the screen test.

"Are you out of your mind?" Nathan's screams reverberate through the confines of your car, causing you to wince as you pull out of the parking lot. "I specifically told you we were going for a girl-next-door vibe, and you show up looking like a slut?! I swear, the next time I see Dieter Bravo, I'm wringing his neck!"

"I don't see how this is his fault, though. I told Sofie and Poppy about the edits, and they seemed to be on board," you retort defensively. "I have a mind of my own, Nate, no one is influencing me in my decisions, how many times do I have to tell you that?! I'm not some fucking doll you can play with!"

"Well, the Doll I knew before wouldn't be acting like this! It's like you were body snatched or something!"

"I'll have you know, Favreau loved the change, and thought it made sense for the character!"

"I don't give a damn what Favreau thinks!" Nathan snaps, his voice rising in frustration. "You're letting Dieter run your life, and it's ruining your career, Doll. I won't stand by and watch you throw everything away for some fling!"

"I'm hanging up now, Nathan," you declare firmly, your grip tightening on the steering wheel. "I don't need this right now."

Without waiting for a response, you end the call and toss your phone onto the passenger seat. The weight of Nathan's words lingers, but you push them aside, focusing on the road ahead as you navigate through the winding streets back to Dieter's house.

As you navigate the winding roads back to the Hollywood Hills, the argument with Nathan still ringing in your ears, you can feel your frustration mounting. The car ride is tense, the silence heavy with unspoken words.

Nathan's accusations replay in your mind, his anger leaving you feeling both defensive and conflicted. You glance at your reflection in the rearview mirror, taking in your appearance. Your outfit, chosen in haste, suddenly feels like a glaring mistake.

The sight of Dieter's house coming into view offers a small sense of relief. You pull into the driveway, noticing the moving boxes scattered across the lawn. The realization hits you that this is now your home, too.

Stepping out of the car, you're greeted by the chaos of movers bustling about, carrying boxes and furniture into the house. Dieter appears in the doorway, concern etched on his face as he approaches you.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, reaching out to touch your arm gently. "You look upset."

"Nathan," you sigh, shaking your head. "He's convinced that everything is your fault."

Dieter's expression darkens, his jaw tightening. "I'll have a word with him," he mutters, his tone laced with frustration.

You offer him a weak smile, appreciating his support. As you follow him into the house, the weight of the day's events begins to lift. You walk into the massive living room, a far cry from your own modest LA flat in Silver Lake. Your eyes widen as you take in your knickknacks amongst Dieter’s gothic decor, your collection of Sonny Angels and their smiling faces alongside Dieter’s collection of what you think are first editions of every Edgar Allen Poe book imaginable, in pristine condition, you might add. You chuckle at the juxtaposition, two very different personalities coming together that shouldn’t work in theory, but look harmonious together anyway. You can't help but smile at the sight, touched by Dieter's thoughtful gesture. Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you turn to him, feeling a rush of gratitude and emotion that you can't quite place. "Dieter..."

"Do you like it?" He asks eagerly, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. You find yourself sinking into the embrace, comforted by his warmth as he pulls you onto the sofa beside him. "I thought you might need a little sanctuary after your meeting with The Shark," he continues, shooting you a playful look. "Marcus did most of the unpacking, but I pitched in! It's like you've always been here, doesn't it feel like home?" His words touch you deeply, and you can't help but wonder if maybe there's some truth to the idea that you belong here with him, despite the unconventional circumstances of your marriage.

You sink into his embrace, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. "I love it," you confess softly, snuggling closer to him as he strokes your hair. "It's cozy, it's... us." You pause, a hint of uncertainty creeping into your voice. "But what if someone sees through our little charade? What if they start asking questions again?"

"I'm glad you love it," he murmurs, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back. "And trust me, with this setup, no one will doubt us for a second. It's like our little secret hideaway," he adds with a chuckle. "But hey, if anyone tries to interrogate you again, just send them my way. I'll handle them." He flashes you a reassuring smile, his eyes full of warmth.

"Hopefully it doesn't get to that point, but Nate surely thinks I'm close to killing my career," you say, a touch of worry creeping into your voice.

"So I'm guessing your meeting with Nathan didn't go too well then?"

"Oh, he accused you of drugging me at the gala and threatened to go to the police-" you tease, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'm pretty sure he thinks that I've been body snatched or lobotomized-"

"No, you've made a pact with the devil, and now... it seems he's come to collect," he breathes into your ear, his fingers tracing a tantalizing path down to the waistband of your jeans, sending shivers down your spine as they caress your skin. You gasp as he unbuckles your jeans, sliding your zipper down slowly as his hands make their way to your center.

He hums in appreciation as his fingers graze the edge of your panties, a smirk playing on his lips as he feels how wet you are. "What do you say, Mrs. Bravo? Are you gonna let your husband take care of you?"

"... and just how are you planning to take care of me, D?" you moan as his fingers push your panties aside, squirming as they slowly start to part your folds.

"I can think of a few ways, but there's something specific I had in mind," Dieter says with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"What's that?" you ask, intrigued by his sudden excitement.

"I want to show you something," he announces, springing off the couch and grabbing your hand, pulling you to your feet.

Dieter leads you through the spacious home, his steps purposeful and eager. As you approach what seems to be a nondescript door, he turns to you with a smile that hints at anticipation. With a theatrical flourish, he swings the door open, revealing a room bathed in natural light, filled with the scent of paint and creativity.

"This is my sanctuary," he says softly, his eyes gleaming with pride as he gestures for you to enter.

Your heart flutters with excitement and curiosity as you step into the room. Your eyes widen at the sight before you—a massive canvas dominating one wall, covered in vibrant colors and intricate brushstrokes.

"It's breathtaking," you murmur, unable to tear your gaze away from the masterpiece before you.

Dieter steps beside you, his presence comforting yet electrifying. "I painted it for you," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper.

You're speechless, your heart pounding with a mixture of awe and gratitude. As you take in the details of the painting—a stunning array of orchids in hues of crimson, violet, and gold—you feel a warmth spreading through you.

"It's... it's incredible," you finally manage to say, your voice filled with emotion.

Dieter's eyes meet yours, his gaze intense yet tender. "I wanted to capture the essence of your beauty, the depth of your spirit," he explains softly. "Every stroke, every color—it's all for you."

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you reach out to touch the canvas, feeling the texture of the paint beneath your fingertips. In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of his creation, you realize just how deeply he sees you, how much he understands.

"I don't know what to say," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

"You don't have to say anything," Dieter replies, his hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers. "Just know that this painting is a reflection of my budding love for you, a testament to the beauty I see in you every day."

"When did you have the time to even paint this? This must have taken months-"

Dieter chuckles softly, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he watches your reaction to the painting.

"I've poured my heart and soul into this piece," he admits, his voice tinged with pride. "But it's not quite finished yet."

"What more could you possibly add? It looks perfect to me," you reply, admiring the intricate details of the painting.

"Have you heard of the artist Georgia O'Keeffe?" Dieter asks, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "She had a way of painting flowers up close and personal, in a style that some found suggestive."

"You mean the whole 'vagina flower' controversy?" you chuckle, recalling the scandal. "People always read too much into things. Sometimes a flower is just a flower."

"Yes, but you're more than just a beautiful flower to me," Dieter murmurs as he approaches you from behind, his fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt one by one.

His touch sends a shiver down your spine as you feel the warmth of his breath against your neck. You lean back into him, feeling his presence enveloping you like a comforting embrace. As your shirt falls to the ground, forgotten, you turn to face him, the intensity of his gaze drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

"Beautiful," he rasps, his hand blindly grabbing a clean paintbrush from his workstation. "What a fucking masterpiece you are, my darling girl."

He rests the paintbrush at the hollow of your neck, his gaze tracing a path down your body as he delicately sweeps it along your clavicle, then down to your sternum. The pressure is just right, sending a shiver down your spine and raising goosebumps across your skin.  

"I've painted many things in my life, but never on a canvas as perfect as you," he murmurs, a small smirk playing on his lips as he trails the brush along the curve of your breasts, flicking it teasingly against your nipple.

You let out a soft moan, your head tilting back as his mouth hovers over the sensitive tip. "Dieter," you plead, your eyes locking with his in desperation. "Please, paint me with your tongue."

Meanwhile, at the LAX baggage claim...

"Eddie! Focus!" Alex screams into her phone as she grabs her luggage at the carousel at LAX. "Do you think she would still be at her flat?"

"I would assume that since she's married the bloke, she would be living with him, surely, as her sister you would know this?" he croons, groaning.  

"Well, I thought she told me everything, but my obvious shock of her being bloody married should tell you why I'm even in LA in the first place! What if she's gotten into those drugs that this Bravo character is into? Did you hear about that rumor with the ferret?"

"Okay, point taken," Eddie replies, clearing his throat. "Tell me why you felt like it was necessary to book the first flight out of Heathrow for this again? Doesn't Daisy live next door to her flat? Why are you asking me when you could just ask her?"

"Ugh, don't even get me started on that twat," Alex moans, rolling her luggage, walking in circles anxiously. "I seriously think she's a lost cause, just mooching off of my poor sister who is too sweet to know better. Do you know that she pays for her flat? Doll already pays her a good salary, I don't see how she has to also pay for her rent-"

Eddie chuckles. "Is that bitterness I sense, my pearl? She is her best friend, it's not completely out of the ordinary. Besides, it's not like your sister didn't set us up with these sweet digs in the city, London isn't exactly cheap, baby. Don't be an ungrateful cunt, honey. Your ugliness is show-"

"Eddie! For fucks sake, focus!" Your sister cuts her boyfriend off, almost bumping into a family as she tries to navigate her way out of the LAX terminal. She winces as a group of tired eyes glare back at her, shrugging her shoulders and mouthing an apology as she walks past. "How in the hell am I going to find out where this Dieter lives? It's not like I could ask the first person I see if they know where Oscar Winner Dieter Bravo lives-"

"Actually," Eddie chuckles through the phone, "That's not a bad idea, Alex. Maybe you should head downtown and grab one of those 'Maps of the Stars' things and catch a ride on a tour bus. Don't they use those double-decker buses? It'll be like you're back in merry ol' London!"

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Do you have any better ideas?" he deadpans, the sounds of the latest football match blaring on the TV. "You could always give Daisy a ring, I'm sure she would love to chauffeur the princess' sister around Los Angeles like the entitled queen she thinks she is-"

"Oh, Piss off Eddie. I'll talk to you later. Say goodnight to Zoe for me, alright? and don't forget to take the trash out in the morning!" 

"I'm not going to tell your fucking dog goodnight, Alex. Just go find your stupid sister, give her a piece of your mind, have her give you some "sorry" money, and then come back home, you know how cranky I get when the laundry piles up-"

"GoodBYE, Eddie." Alex rolls her eyes as she hangs up on her boyfriend of seven years, muttering fucking asshole under her breath as she rifles through her purse for her ciggies. She takes a long drag as she looks out into the sunny sky of Los Angeles, a welcome change to the dreariness of London. She checks her phone once more, a photo of two smiling teenage girls smiling back at her.  

She smiles at the memory of the day when the photo was taken, the day of your adoption into her family after what happened before your abrupt removal from your family home.  "We're officially sisters, Baby Doll! You're finally free!" Alex exclaims, her arms around your shoulders as you laugh in glee "I'm so grateful for everything, Alex! For you and your family… taking me in after what happened at the chur-" She shakes out of the memory, checking the time. Taking another drag, she presses on your contact and takes a deep breath, the line trilling in her ear.  

The person you're trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone-

"Fucking hell, Doll," she groans, shoving her sunglasses onto her face as she turns to the man that is looking at his phone next to her. 

"Excuse me, Sir-"

"Those things will kill you, you know," the man replies, not bothering to look up from his screen. 

"Haha, yeah, listen- would it be easier to catch a cab, or is there some sort of rail system I could take into the city from here?" she asks, adjusting her tote bag on her shoulder.

"I could tell you, but I honestly don't care to," the man retorts, finally raising his eyes to meet hers. He pockets his phone into his pocket and walks away, shaking his head in annoyance. "Fucking tourists-"

"Oi! Go fuck yourself!" Alex screams back at the man, giving him the bird as he jumps into an Uber. Her eyes widen at the sight of a cherry red double-decker bus, 'Tour of the Stars!' emblazoned off the side of it.  

"Holy fuck, Eddie- you're a fucking genius!" she exclaims to herself, hurriedly pulling her luggage to the back of the line of excited tourists. "Who would have thought that bastard could think of something so brilliant?!"

"Do you think we'll get a glimpse of Doll now that she married Dieter Bravo?" a man asks his friend as they wait in line. "Did you see that video of the two of them at the In n Out? her tits looked so massive in his hands!"

"What a lucky bastard, right? I bet she's such a dirty girl under that sweet fucking exterior of hers, what I would do to be able to tap that!" his friend replies, chuckling at himself, smiling like he's said something so fucking profound. "Bravo must live in that sweet pussy of hers, she must taste so fucking sweet, maybe we should go up to his front door and ask to see if he was interested in a gang bang, it's not like he hasn't been caught in one before-"

"Oi!" Alex exclaims, her face red with frustration as she points at the group of men. "Watch your fucking mouth! That's my fucking sister you're talking about!"

"Yeah, and I'm the President of the United States," the man replies, sneering at her. "Doesn't your mommy teach you it's rude to eavesdrop on other people's conversations?" he scoffs, high-fiving his friend. "If she was your sister, why are you in line for 'Tour of the Stars'? I know girls can be crazy, but you're living in la-la-land, lady!"

"Yeah? Well, I wanted to surprise her," Alex retorts, her demeanor growing flustered under the scrutiny of the group of men.

"Well, hate to break it to you, but I don't quite see the resemblance, sweetheart. Maybe if you got some plastic surgery, and I squint my eyes just right, maybe it could happen for you."

As they board the bus, Marty, the tour guide, announces enthusiastically, "Alright folks, buckle up! We're about to embark on a star-studded adventure, touring the homes of Hollywood's elite!"

The men who had been teasing Alex hoot and holler in excitement, egging Marty on with raucous cheers.

"We'll be swinging by Dieter Bravo's estate up in the Hills," Marty continues, adjusting his microphone. "It's one of the hottest properties in town, folks! Who knows, maybe we'll catch a glimpse of the man himself or even his famous wife! They just got married in Las Vegas over the weekend, how exciting, right?"

Alex rolls her eyes at the mention of Doll, already dreading the attention her sister's marriage attracts. But she stays silent, focusing on keeping her composure amid the rowdy crowd.

As the bus winds its way through the glamorous streets of Hollywood, Marty regales the passengers with tales of celebrity scandals and triumphs. An hour into the tour, they finally stop in front of a lavish mansion nestled among the hills.

"This is it, folks! The home of the one and only Dieter Bravo!" Marty announces, his voice filled with excitement.

Alex's heart skips a beat as she recognizes your BMW X4 behind the gates and manicured hedges. With a surge of adrenaline, she jumps to her feet, shouting over the din of the other passengers, "Stop the bus!"

"No can do, lady. Don't want to risk another lawsuit," Marty replies with a chuckle.

"But she's my sister! Please, just for a moment, I need to see her."

But Marty remains firm, his tone unwavering. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't make any exceptions. And even if she were your sister, why would you be on this tour bus?"

He glances at Alex skeptically, a furrow forming on his brow. "Seems like we're attracting all sorts of characters today," he muttered under his breath. "Crazier by the minute."

Feeling frustrated and desperate, Alex makes a split-second decision. "Oh, fuck this-" She lunges for the door handle and, without hesitation, jumps out of the bus.

"Hey!" Marty screams, the bus grinding to a halt. "Get back in here!" he yells as she slams onto the hot asphalt.  

"No, can't, shant!" she screams back at the bus, "I won't tell it was you if you just drive away, no harm no foul?"

"... good enough for me!" Marty yells back, motioning to the tour bus driver. "onto the next one!" 

The group of men who had teased her earlier chuckled. "Good luck finding your 'sister,'" one of them jeered sarcastically as the bus pulled away.

"Fuck, why do I keep putting myself through this?" Alex groans, wincing as she tries to steady herself, her scraped knees and wrists a testament to her rough landing. With determination in her stride, she approaches the gates, her heart pounding in her chest. Surprisingly, she finds them slightly ajar, allowing her to slip through the heavy iron. Wheeling her luggage along, she heads toward what she hopes is the front door and tentatively knocks. "Hello?"

Growing impatient, Alex begins to pound on the door. "Hey, I know you're in there! Open the damn door!" she screams, frustration evident in her voice. As the door suddenly swings open, she's met with the sight of a handsome man, his annoyance matching her own.

Marcus narrowed his eyes at her, his arms crossed over his chest. "Can I help you?"

"Oh—" Alex gasped, clearly flustered and embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Sir," She glanced back at the map, her eyes darting around her surroundings. "I thought this was the residence of Dieter Bravo. I must be mistaken—"

"Listen, lady, are you in need of medical assistance? Do you need me to call the rehab center that you clearly looked like you escaped from?"

"I beg your pardon?" Alex snaps, her frustration evident in her clenched fists as she strides back up to the man in front of her, her patience wearing thin. She takes a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to deal with this arrogant jerk. It's such a shame such a beautiful man like him is such a tool, she thinks to herself through her annoyance.

"Look, I've just had a grueling flight from Heathrow after a massive row with my boyfriend. He can't fathom why I needed to fly thousands of miles to LA to see my sister, who's apparently decided to get married by some Elvis impersonator on a whim. Clearly, she's lost her mind, and I've come all the way here to figure out just what the hell has gotten into her! So, if you're not Doll—"

"You're Doll's sister?" Marcus asks incredulously, his eyes narrowing.

"Yes, I'm Doll's sister. What does it look like?"

Marcus scoffs, his eyes disbelieving as they roam over her figure, his smirk growing wider. "Sure, if you're her sister, then I'm the queen of England."

"What is that supposed to mean, you prick?"

"Listen, don't get me wrong, you are a gorgeous woman, but I don't see the family resemblance."

"She's my adoptive sister, you moron!"

"That's what they all say, sweetheart."

"OH!" Your voice pierces the silence of the mansion, both Alex and Marcus startled by the sudden outburst. "Fuck Dieter, just like THAT!"

"Oh bugger this!" Alex exclaims, pushing Marcus aside as she storms through the mansion. "For fucks sake! Christabella!" she shouts, opening up every door she comes across. "BELLA! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" She shouts, making her way towards Dieter's studio. "BELLA! I KNOW YOU'RE IN HERE!"

"Hey!" Marcus shouts back at Alex, his composure barely hanging on by a thread. "You can't just enter someone's private property, I could have you arrested!"

"Yeah, well just call my lawyer, then. He is on my sister's payroll, after all!" she sing-songs, making her way up to the door leading to Dieter's studio. "BELLA!" she shouts as she opens the door, gasping at the sudden sight of the both of you stark naked on the floor, with Dieter railing you from behind. You scream at the sudden intrusion, scrambling to cover yourself.

"Dieter," Marcus huffs, "I am so sorry, she just came storming in, saying that shes-"

"Alex!" you squeak, "What are you doing here?"

Dieter looks back at the angry face of your sister, his own expression shifting to confusion. "Who the hell are you?"

"Christa-fuck-abella Martin," Alex seethes, "What on earth has gotten into you?"

"... and who the hell is Christabella?" Dieter asks out loud, rolling himself on the floor in exhaustion.

You grimace as your sister rolls her eyes, throwing Dieter's discarded robe at the both of you. "Please don't tell me you married my sister in that hell hole and you don't even know her real name, mate."

Taglist:@yxtkiwiyxt @skysmiller @picketniffler @readingiskeepingmegoing @islacharlotte

@drewharrisonwriter@missladym1981@amyispxnk@thespookywookies@stevie75

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings@daydream-believer19@survivingandenduring@darkheartgatita @gobaaby-blog-blog

#the new girl in tinseltown #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fic recs #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfic #pedro pascal fanfic #dieter bravo x ofc #the bubble fanfiction #the bubble

[morallyinept]

FIC AUTHOR SELF REC

Tagged by lovely @undercoverpena 🖤

When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love! 🖤

1. The Pit - Ezra

Probably the fic I am most proud of for challenging myself to write something completely different in the sci-fi/horror genre. I also really enjoy how I wrote Ezra's dialogue in this one.

2. Five Days Series - Joel Miller

My first multi-chapter series with our handsome hero, Joel. I really enjoyed exploring Joel and Reader navigating their relationship in this story, and it gave me ample playing space with different emotions and putting them into words.

3. Dress Me Up & Call Me Pretty - Dieter Bravo

I really wanted to explore promoting positive sexuality in this story and getting under Dieter's skin. The feedback on this story from readers about exploring this type of sexuality has been overwhelmingly positive too, and I'm so happy that this story has been a comfort for some too.

4. Back Alley Bang - Dieter Bravo

Sleazy!Dieter - what more can I say?! This is a version of Dieter I recently wrote, and am writing more for, I just love him and there are more sleazy scenarios for him on the way.

5. Kiss Cam GIFLET - Frankie Morales

A fluffy meet cute for Frankie, which has also been my most popular GIFLET to date. Gotta love this gorgeous pilot.

NP Tagging: @goodwithcheese @linzels-blog @ghostofaboy @sp00kymulderr @covetyou & anyone else who would like to give themselves a boost and show some self-love! 🖤

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #dieter bravo #ezra prospect x you #frankie morales #jett's fic recs #self fic rec #fic recs

[rhoorl]

Working Title - Chapter 5

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Belle

Rating: Mature, 18+

Word Count: 6.2k

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Chapter 5 on AO3

Chapter Summary: It’s time for the party! We meet a couple more side characters. Plus, more best friend vibes happening with Belle and Indy. Toward the end we go through a more rapid fire of alternating POVs, I hope it translates the way I pictured it in my head!!

Warnings: This chapter has some swearing and allusions to smut. 

Indy could tell you were starting to get in your head about the party and knew just how to get you to loosen up. 

“Ok, pick a playlist,” she calls over to you as she tosses her phone.

“Jeez, you know I can’t catch for shit,” you say as you barely grasp her phone in your hands, looking through her Spotify to find what to listen to.

“You thinking champagne or a mixed drink?” she asks over her shoulder as she saunters into the kitchen.

“Isn’t it a little early?” you ask and before she can retort you follow it up with, “And don’t say it’s 5 o’clock somewhere, for the love,” you chuckle.

“We aren’t going to pregame hard, B, just a little something to sip on while we get ready!”

It had been a while since you both had gotten ready together to go to a party. When you lived in New York you’d spent many a night crowding into your tiny bathroom fighting for mirror space as you got ready to head to a club or bar. You’d sing and dance to whatever mix CD Indy had burned. Sometimes it still makes you gag to think you both used to rip cheap vodka shots straight without chasers.

Although the location is different, the energy is still the same with you two – giggling, reminiscing about old times, and sipping on the champagne Indy popped open.

She’s been on her phone off and on texting, smiling at herself when she didn’t think you were looking. At one point you both decide to Facetime Rhys.

“Hey! How are you two doing?” he picks up on the second ring, sitting on his couch presumably watching a hockey game or whatever other sport was on TV.

“Hi Rhys!” you wave. “Thank you soooo much for upgrading my flight, that was clutch!”

“Yea and this fucking room?! Rhys, you’ve outdone yourself!” Indy chimed in.

“Ha, well I’m glad you both like it, you deserve it, both of you.”.

“Oh Rhys, you’ll never guess what happened this morning!”

“Shh, stop it he doesn’t want or need to know about that,” you chide her.

“Know about what?” he smirked.

“So I walk outside to the balcony this morning, which is huge by the way,” she says as she puts down the phone against the mirror and keeps putting on her eyeliner. “I was looking for Indy so we could have our coffee together and I walk out there and see her staring at the balcony next to us where freaking Dieter was standing – without a shirt on! Her mouth was practically on the floor drooling over him.”

“Oh my gosh Ind, my mouth wasn’t on the floor,” you roll your eyes. “Rhys, I was behaving myself.”

“Oh, you were behaving yourself when you moaned about how good a fucking cookie tasted?” she laughed.

“Wait, what?” 

“Ugh, never mind Rhys. It was nothing.”

Rhys starts to smile, laughing when he says “So I guess you met your neighbor then, huh?”

“It was so funny Rhys, she was so flustered it was so cute!” 

You kind of paused for a bit at his reaction. He was trying to act surprised, but he was a terrible liar. What is he up to?

By this point, he and Indy had moved on to another topic you barely even heard, still lost in thought. 

“I should be there in about a week or so. I haven’t booked my flight yet, but I’m excited to visit my two favorite girls!”

“We can’t wait to see you!” 

“Yea both owe you a big hug,” Indy added.

“Ok ladies, have fun tonight, but not too much fun,” he winked.

Indy hangs up her phone and you both finish the last touches to your makeup. You offered to do it for Indy, but she refused. She had watched you so much over the years, studying your techniques, and eventually picked up a few basic things. And honestly, with her, it didn’t take much to still look stunning. 

Putting on one last spritz of hairspray, you give yourself a final look before heading to your room to get dressed. You slip out of your t-shirt and shorts and walk over to grab a bra out of the dresser. As you open the drawer to look in, your mind wanders to Dieter. You were nervous to see him. Presumably, tonight was going to be the closest you’ve both been to each other physically. The first time you were separated by a couch and this morning you were separated by the balconies. 

Indy’s voice is coming through loud and clear in your head, if you want to feel confident wear something that makes you feel good. Spurned by that thought and the champagne, you rummage through the drawer and decide on the black bra that makes your boobs look amazing. You also decide to change into a skimpier pair of underwear figuring if you felt sexy, it may help you feel flirty. 

You head over to your shoes and slip on a pair of sandals. Your finishing touches were your watch, a bracelet Indy got you for a birthday, and a pair of diamond earrings. Grabbing your purse, you head out to the living room where Indy is texting and smiling at her phone.

She sees you and starts to whistle, “Ok sexy mama! I see you!”

“Oh my god, Ind,” you laugh.

“Alright, ready to do this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Oh c’mon, you’re getting good at going to these!”

You’ve been accompanying Indy to these types of parties for more than a decade now. They’ve run the gamut from boring to wild – the stories you both could share! By all accounts, tonight is going to be pretty chill; some of the cast and crew traveled with their families and were bringing them over. The only part that always made you nervous was when inevitably you and Indy would get separated. At least this time around, you will have some friendly faces in the crowd.

Indy shoots another quick text, smirking at her phone. 

“Ok, let’s do this!”

Dieter had spent the afternoon looking over scripts and chatting with the writers. He was a TV and film nerd and loved the process of making the art. Lizzie always told him he should write or direct something of his own, but he had never followed through despite the countless notes of ideas on his phone.

He’s lost in a daydream, thinking of the morning and what he should have said, or wanted to say when his PA Danny walks in. In his early years, Dieter went through PAs like nothing. Over time he realized they only ever wanted the drugs he could score, or to fuck him. And, frankly, he saw them the same way too for a while. 

Danny had been with him for the past couple of years. He was young and a hard worker, no job or task was too small for him. Dieter liked his work ethic and respected his hustle, so he looked out for Danny. When Dieter wasn’t working, he would make sure to find Danny a gig with a fellow actor friend. They’d grown to have a bit of a brotherly relationship.

Danny sits down across the table from Dieter, unwrapping a package and pulling something out.

I know that packaging.

“Danny, what is that?” he pointed at Danny’s mouth as he was mid-bite.

“It’s…uh…a cookie,” he mumbled out with his mouth full. After he chewed and shallowed he added, “Did you get one in your welcome basket? They’re so fucking good and it’s from a local company too. Want one?” he offered Dieter the other one.

“Uh. Yea. I mean. No, I don’t want one, knock yourself out. Wait, did you say they were a local company?”

“Yea,” he continued to chew. “I’ve been talking with the other PAs, apparently they make them here on the island and there’s like a fuck ton of other flavors. It’s been like Pokemon trading cookies with everyone today,” he laughed.

“Dan - how close is this place?”

“Uh, I don’t know, let me look,” wiping his mouth and grabbing his phone. Once he pulled it up he turned the phone to Dieter, “Looks like it’s 20 minutes away!”

Looking down at his watch, Dieter does some quick math. “Danny, you up for a little adventure?” he asked with a lopsided grin. 

“Ok, phone, wallet, room key. Check, check, and check! Let’s go do this!” Indy said, slapping you on the ass as she walked by you and opens the door. 

“Hey, ouch!”

As you close the door behind you, you hear her yell “Hold the elevator please!” Your heart skips a beat at who could be waiting for you in the elevator.

You look down the hallway and see an arm pop through the closing elevator doors, stopping them and opening them back up. As the elevator doors open back up, you hear a deep voice call out, “Indy?”

“Hey Sam!” she gushes as she hustles over to the elevator.

You exhale but also have a tinge of disappointment come over you. You hurry so you don’t keep them waiting, glancing over to the door to Dieter’s room as you walk by. I wonder where he is. 

“Oh my gosh, Sam you haven’t met Belle yet!” Indy said as she ushered you into the elevator. You could see why Indy was into Sam. He was tall, fit, with a great smile, and he had the most piercing blue eyes you’d ever seen. 

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you! Indy has been talking about you non-stop,” he laughs and goes in for a hug, which you reciprocate. Wrapping your arms around his back you add another reason to the “why Indy is obsessed with Sam” list – the guy was made of pure muscle. “She said you were beautiful, but you’re even more stunning in person,” he says in his low, Southern drawl.

Okay. I can see why she’s all googly-eyed now. This guy is a charmer. Normally this shit would be a red flag, but he seems sweet.

“It’s nice to meet you too Sam. You’re even more handsome than she described,” you winked at him. For as awkward as you could be, there was something about playing a wing woman to Indy that made you a little bolder.

Looking over at Indy she is beaming. She sidles over to Sam and you look down to your phone to give them a little privacy. You stop on a floor to let a few people in when you hear him whisper in her ear, “You look absolutely stunning, baby.”

They were practically eye fucking each other the whole ride down, which made you wonder how far Indy had gone with him. 

You make it down to the first floor and the elevator empties into the lobby. Ari is getting out of another elevator and you wave to her so she can join headed to the front of the resort. Along the way, Ari tells you that Mitch organized a few shuttles to help get people to and from the party. 

Getting to the entrance, you see a full shuttle leaving as an empty one pulled up. Sam let you and Ari go ahead before letting Indy board ahead of him. Ari takes a window seat and you scoot in next to her, Indy taking the window seat in the row behind you, Sam following closely behind.

Sitting at the front of the shuttle, you are practically the unofficial greeter, saying hi or at least smiling to everyone who boards. You look to the outside of the shuttle where a line was forming, looking for that distinct mop of fluffy hair above the crowd. He said he was going to be there, maybe he already left. Or, he’s not into this kind of stuff and is going as late as possible to still make an appearance. You battle back and forth with yourself and suddenly realize the shuttle closed its doors and is starting to move. 

Behind you, you could hear Indy giggling as Sam whispers to her. Oh, they’re fucking. Making a mental note to ask her long that’s been going on. You smile to yourself, happy that Indy seems to be head over heels for the guy, but a little concerned seeing as filming hasn’t even started yet – what if something happens? That would be awkward.

Ari makes small talk with you on the way to the party and before you know it, the shuttle is coming to a stop.

“Holy shit, this place is nice,” Ari says under her breath.

“Seriously. I’m totally going to get lost,” you chuckle.

You all file out of the shuttle and are greeted by servers with glasses of champagne. Add another glass to my tally. You follow the crowd up the stairs and across the threshold of the house which opens up into an open-air living room overlooking a huge backyard with a fantastic pool.

“Wow, this is nice,” you hear Indy come up next to you. 

“Seriously. So … who is Mitch?” 

Looking around, Indy spots him. “Hey Mitch!” she yells, waving at a man standing by the bar in the backyard. She grabs your hand and ushers you over to him, Ari and Sam trailing behind.

“Indy, great to see you,” the man says going in for a hug.

“Thanks so much for having us, it’s so fun that we get to start off the shoot this way!” Oh, she’s on her schmooze game. “Oh, I need to introduce you to one of the most talented hair and makeup artists I know, and she’s my best friend,” she beamed motioning over to you.

You introduce yourself and shake his hand. “Nice to meet you, thanks for having us!”

“Oh, it’s a pleasure to meet you, glad you’re joining the crew. I hope you all have fun tonight, make yourselves at home. If you want to get in the pool go ahead, we have towels. There’s a bar and food,” he motions over to the bar and the full buffet set up. “Otherwise, just have fun!”

“Thank you!” you all chime in. 

“Indy, Sam, could I steal you both?” he asks as he guides them to another group of people standing around a high-top table. They look a bit more dressed up than everyone else. They must be from the studio.

Poor Indy, these types of events seemed so exhausting. She had to be “on” for most of the party trying to make sure she talked with the right people and said the right things. 

You take a second to scan around the party. Another shuttle of people had been dropped off by this point. Hmm, I don’t see him. You tried to not let your disappointment show. Besides, it’s not like even if he was here he’d talk to you. Look at Indy, she’s going to be busy all night, so he will be too.

You and Ari head over to the bar to grab a drink. A few of the other PAs were hanging out at a nearby table so she heads over there. You manage to find Meredith and some of the other stylists and grab some food and talk. She gets you all to play two truths and a lie as an icebreaker to get to know everyone. You all end up laughing to the point of tears at how ridiculous some of the lies were. After a while, some of the group decides it’s time for a cigarette so they get up to leave. 

With the sun starting to set, you take it as a good opportunity to sneak away and try and take some photos of the spectacular sunset. And also recharge your social battery. You liked being around people, but you didn’t get energy from it like Indy did. 

As walk around, you hope to catch a glimpse of Dieter. While you didn’t see him, you did see Indy. She was in the pool leaning against the side, talking to Sam who was sitting on a nearby lounger. You gave her a wave and as discreet of a thumbs up as you could as you weaved your way through the crowd.

Exploring the backyard, you head down a path and find a little secluded spot with a perfect view of the ocean. You see a little bench right next to a small pond with some beautiful koi fish swimming along. Sitting down, you take out your phone and start snapping photos and taking some videos to post on your Instagram stories. You lost track of time and almost didn’t hear the rustling and footsteps behind you. Turning around, you see that Dieter is coming your way down the path.

He sees you and gives a lopsided grin, one of his dimples peeking through.

“Hey! I was looking for you,” he waves with his left hand, rubbing the back of his neck with his right as he approaches. “Mind if I join you?” he motions towards the bench.

Looking for me? Ok, breathe. Remember to breathe. Shit, he looks good. 

He was wearing light gray chino shorts, a plain, black t-shirt, and sneakers. You couldn’t help but linger over how tight the sleeves of his shirt were over his biceps. His hair was a bit more tamed than it was this morning, but it still had gorgeous curls and waves.

“Oh, h-hi Um, yea be my guest,” you bow towards the seat. Why are you bowing, that’s lame. “How long have you been at the party?”

“I, uh- I just got here, a little while ago. I had to take care of something and then Danny drove us over.”

“Danny?”

“Oh, uh, my PA. Good kid,” he smiles. “Um. Y-you look beautiful,” he whispered as he looked down at his hands.

Wait, he’s nervous too, right? Holy fucking shit, just remember to breathe. But also, girl, take advantage of this. 

“You look nice too. You put on a shirt for the occasion,” you winked at him.

He laughed, “Touché, but I can’t tell if you mean that’s a good or a bad thing.”

You bite your lip and look down. Ahhhhhh.

“So, uh,” he clears his throat. “Did you have a good day today?”

“Uh, yea. Yea, it was busy but fun,” you said turning towards him. “Did you?”

He seemed to be taken aback that you asked him such a simple question and seemed to care about the response. “Y-yea. I’d say it started off pretty well,” he winked.

“Ha, yea. Although it did take me a while to actually get a hot cup of coffee,” you laughed.

“Maybe we can make up for it tomorrow morning,” he said a bit lower.

You breathing hitches. 

“I- uh. I mean from each of our balconies. Not from the same one. Unless. Uh- shit, sorry” he starts to ramble shaking his head as he rubs the back of his neck.

You don’t understand how this man could ever be flustered, let alone around you, but you had to admit each time it happened it was really cute.

You laugh and then softly say, almost as a whisper so he doesn’t hear, “I actually would like that.”

His face softens, “You would?” You nod. “Yea, I would too,” he smiles.

“Only one problem though,” you replied.

He furrows his brows together, “and what’s that?”

“We only had that one package of cookies in our basket, and I need something sweet with my first coffee of the day.”

“Oh that is a dilemma then isn’t it,” he laughs. Leaning further into your space he whispers “I think we can figure something out,” with a wink. 

You let out a nervous laugh, biting your lip again. Holy fucking shit.

As if she knew you needed help, you suddenly hear your phone ring and look to see a call coming in from Indy. You usually kept your phone on silent, but in situations like tonight, you both kept your ringers on. It started when you used to go clubbing, that way in case one of you needed to help the other would be able to hear their phone.

“Oh, sorry, I have to get this. She would only call if it were an emergency.”

“Of course!” Dieter looks concerned, clearly hoping everything was ok with Indy.

You give him a small smile and answer, “Hey, Ind, are you ok?” furrowing your brows in concern.

“Y-yea, yea. Um, pineapples.” Over the years, you both developed a series of code words to help get each other out of bad or awkward situations. Luckily, this one was not a serious one, but she still needed your help.

You let out an exhale and smirked, “Ok, where are you?”

Dieter looks a bit confused, looking at your face to see what’s going on. “She’s ok,” you mouth to him and he nods.

“Second-floor bathroom, it’s to the left when you walk up.”

“Ok, be right there.” Hanging up the phone you turn back to him. “Sorry, I have to go find her. We’ve got a wardrobe malfunction,” you laugh.

“Oh shit, yea let’s go so you can take care of that.”

He gets up from the bench and lets you walk in front of him, lightly touching the small of your back as he leads you around the path. You’re thankful that your back is to him because you blush at his touch and also curse yourself for being so affected by something so small – a simple courteous gesture. 

He keeps his hand there until you reach the party again, bringing both hands into his pockets. “Do you know where to go?”

“Yea, she said she’s on the second floor. I, uh, I’ll see you around?”

He smiles, “Definitely.”

You hate to turn away and leave, but you’re also so curious as to what situation Indy has found herself in.

BELLE: Headed upstairs

INDY: THX 🙏

As you make it to the stairs, you see Sam hurriedly making his way down. He has a sheepish look as he sees you, trying to avoid your gaze.

“Hey Sam, do you know where Indy is?”

“Uh, y-yea, she’s the second door on the left,” he glances away trying to avoid eye contact.

Confused you keep heading up the stairs, You know nothing bad happened because she used pineapples but Sam’s demeanor was a far cry from the confident swagger he had earlier. He seemed embarrassed.

You made it to the door and gave your customary three knocks so Indy knew it was you. She opens the door slightly poking just her eyes out. Confirming it was you, she opens the door the rest of the way and pulls you in. Then you see her and let out a laugh.

“Hooooly shit Ind! What the fuck happened?” pointing to the huge hickey on the left side of her neck with one hand and covering your mouth in shock with the other.

“Can you fix it?” she asks nervously as she looks in the mirror, trying to tame her mussed-up hair.

“Well, I left my special effects make-up at home. Ow!” she punches you in the arm as you laugh. “But I do have a small kit with me so we can make it work. Here sit.” 

She gets up on the counter extending her head back, exposing more of her neck so you can see the full brunt of what you have to work with.

“Sooo…care to share with the class how this happened?”

She rolls her eyes, “I think you know how this happens, B.”

Pulling back and putting your arms up in surprise, “Hey! I’m the one helping you remember. I can walk out and leave you to work the room with that gigantic mark on your neck,” you tease. 

She lowers her chin looking at you with a smirk, “You wouldn’t do that.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t.” She lifts her chin again as you start to mix some of the concealers. 

Knowing you weren’t going to drop it, she finally caved, “So, Sam and I came in here.”

“No! I’m shocked!” you say sarcastically as she gives you another stern look. “Ok, ok I’m sorry!”

“We were fooling around and next thing I know I glance in the mirror and see this,” motioning to her neck, “and I freaked out. It's too big to cover up with just my hair. So, that’s when I called you. Sam was still here, he felt really bad. He stayed the whole time, but left when you texted.”

“The guy could barely look at me when I came up the stairs,” you chuckled, applying the makeup to the area. It wasn’t going to be a perfect cover-up job, but between Indy's long hair and your rushed handiwork, you both could leave without anyone being the wiser of her romp in the bathroom.

“So, how long have you guys been hooking up?”

“Um, it’s been … a few weeks.”

“A few weeks?! And you didn’t tell me!”

“I was going to, I swear. I just … I don’t know. He's younger, you know. I really, really like him, but I wanted you to meet him first.”

“Well, he's not that much younger," you wink. "And seems lovely and he’s clearly dicked you down well enough that you didn’t even notice him doing this on you. Seriously, Indy this is like the biggest one you’ve ever had!”

You both giggle, Indy noticeably relaxing now that she’s clued you into how involved she’s become with Sam.

As you were finishing up, she asked how you had been enjoying the party. You tell her about some of the two truths and a lie the other stylists shared.

“Oh, did Dieter ever find you?”

“Huh?”

“He was looking for you. When he got here I could see him looking around and when he saw me, he made a beeline over. He was trying to play it cool, asked where my ‘sidekick’ was,” she gave air quotes. “I saw you walk down toward the path, so I sent him that way. Did he find you? Wait, were you with him when I called?”

You nodded.

“Shiiit, I’m sorry!” she smacks her the palm of her hand to her forehead. “I feel like a jackass. You were getting some alone time and here I am messing it up!”

“It’s really fine, Ind. You actually called at a perfect time because I wasn’t sure where the conversation was going.”

“Oooo go on ….” she waggles her eyebrows. 

“We were kind of starting to talk about repeating our coffee and cookie thing tomorrow morning…I think.”

Indy hops down from the counter and grabs your shoulders.

“Holy shit! So, are we talking like from his place? Or ours? If it’s ours please let me know so I can put in earplugs.”

“Indy!! Not like that,” you shake your head and look down. “Me on my balcony and he would be on his.”

Arching her eyebrow and tilting her chin down she gives you a lopsided grin. “Ok, Belle, ok. But I’m sure he was thinking it.”

“Oh stop it,” you laugh and then start to yawn. The jet lag and excitement all starting to catch up with you.

��Oh shit, you’re probably tired, huh? I keep forgetting you came from the East Coast. Wanna head back? It’s getting late anyway and we want to make sure you are well-rested for your coffee date!”

“It’s not a date, he probably won’t even show up.”

She rolls her eyes and grabs your hand as you both head out of the bathroom. You make it downstairs and see a group starting to make their way to the shuttle so you shuffle in step with them and head back. 

The shuttle ride was uneventful and you made it up to your room. Indy unlocks the door and you both file in. You start to head over to your bedroom, but stop when you see a giant box sitting on the kitchen island. You both look at each other confused as to who left something in your room. You figured it was either Rhys sending you both a surprise or maybe even Sam as an apology. 

Indy skips over to the box, snatching the note to read it. She stops and looks up at you with a smile and doesn’t say anything, she just extends the note to you to read.

Turns out they have a bunch of flavors. Pick a few for tomorrow! - D

“Holy fucking shit, Belle, this is the cutest thing ever!”

Getting a gift from a man was a pretty foreign concept to you. The only gifts you had received in recent years either came from your dad, Rhys, or Indy's brother. Ryan had forgotten your last several birthdays and anniversaries. 

You step around Indy to see exactly what was in the box. The company that made the cookies from this morning apparently makes several other flavors. It looks like there are about 12 different varieties in this box, but you notice a few boxes of the macadamia nut flavor, which makes you blush.

“He had to have done that earlier today! I saw him talking with Danny, his PA, and then they grabbed some car keys and left.”

You started pulling out the boxes, unsure what to even say or think.

“Umm. Earth to Belle? Dieter surprised you with a cute gift. He wants to see you tomorrow morning. Honestly, babe, if I were you I would just knock on his door and invite yourself in right now.”

“You know I’m not doing that. Besides, we don’t even know if he’s back yet.”

“I know, but could you imagine? He would absolutely flip.”

You wanted to smile, but something stopped you. You felt like there had to be a catch. There’s no way this was happening to you. 

“I can’t meet him tomorrow,” shaking your head at the sheer ridiculousness of this situation. 

“What?! Why?” Indy mumbled as she stuffed a cookie in her face.

“Because this is probably some big elaborate joke or something.”

“You and I both know that’s a load of bullshit you’re telling yourself. Don’t build that wall up. Stop it.”

She knew you better than anyone and knew exactly how your head was spiraling. You felt like you didn’t deserve to have someone, especially a man, do nice, sweet things for you. And if someone did, it was with a catch or out of obligation. 

“I am setting my alarm and dragging your ass out of bed myself.”

“Please don’t do that. Besides we both know you will sleep through that alarm,” you smirk.

“Fine. But please promise me you’ll go outside and have coffee with him. This,” she gestures to the sampler box of cookies, “is too fucking cute. Rhys said he hasn’t heard of Dieter dating or even being interested in someone in years, so he’s probably just as nervous as you are.”

Is that true? I mean, now that I think of it I haven't read about him being linked to someone in years. Also, why are Rhys and Indy talking about Dieter's dating life?

Taking a deep breath you straighten up and look over at Indy who has opened up another box to try. “Ok, I’ll try.”

“Ooo you should text him thank you!” You give her a look. “Before you say ‘I can’t do that I don’t have his number’ yes you do!” She grabs her phone from her purse and starts to go through the contacts. “Here, I’m texting you his number.”

Her text comes through and you stare at your phone. I mean, he did get you a gift, the proper thing to do would be to acknowledge it.

Indy comes around next to you as you both lean over the kitchen island, looking at your phone. It brought you back to when you both used to sit in front of the computer, trying to compose the perfect AIM message to your crushes. You keep staring and Indy grabs the phone, “Ok I’ll just do it. ‘Dear Dieter, let’s skip the coffee and I’ll give you my cookie instead’ winky face.”

You snatch the phone from her, realizing she didn’t actually type any of that and she was fucking with you. “Oh my gosh, Indy! First of all, no. Second, the cookie pun, really? I am just going to say ‘Hey it’s Belle, thanks for the cookies, that’s sweet’. Simple and I still get a pun in,” you chuckle.

“Come onnnn. The guy got something for you, you made plans to see him tomorrow morning. Be a little flirty! Let’s speed this shit up!”

Rolling your eyes you look back at your phone and start to type with a smirk. When you were done you hand her back the phone, “This ok?”

“Do it!”

Dieter wasn’t one for parties anymore, although this one sounded like it would be pretty tame and safe. He knew he would have to make an appearance, but it definitely made it more appealing to see you and hopefully get a chance to talk.

He was relieved when he finally saw you, his breath catching. Wow, she’s beautiful. He thought that this morning when he saw you with no makeup, a messy bun, and glasses. Now, your hair was down and he could see your eyes better. He was nervous to talk to you, but excited, trying to turn on some charm to see how you’d react. Every time you bit your lip, he could feel his shorts get a little tighter. All he wanted to do was reach over and kiss you. 

When Indy called he was concerned, but then a bit frustrated. He felt you were maybe starting to reciprocate some of his advances. 

Knowing that you would be occupied with Indy, he decided to head out and drive himself back to the resort. On his way, he called the front desk agent to let them know to proceed with the plan. After he hung up a wave of nerves washed over him.

That was probably too much, right? Like who the fuck buys someone cookies? But, it gives me an excuse to see her again. You’re going to see her on set every day though. I wonder if she’s back yet. No, she and Indy are probably still having fun. Am I coming on too strong? I always come on too strong.

He makes it back upstairs and starts pacing around his room, his insecurity and anxiety starting to spike. He sits on the couch and does some breathing exercises. In … two … three … out … two … three .. four … five. 

After doing this for several minutes, he feels himself calming down, deciding to go lay down on his bed. Shrugging off his shorts and grabbing a pair of basketball shorts, he pulls off his shirt and slides under the covers, and grabs the remote. He’s honestly not sure what’s on the TV, he finds the noise comforting as he zones out.

Then, he hears his phone ding.

“Ok, sent. Shit!” you bury your face in your hands.

“It’s a pretty innocent text.”

You both stare at the phone screen waiting. After a couple of minutes, you see that the message has been read. Shit. He’s not typing. Wait, yes he is. Ugh, then he stopped. 

“Aww, it seems like he’s nervous too,” Indy teases bumping your shoulder with hers.

Dieter sees a text come in from a random number. Normally, he would just ignore it, but the timing was coincidental so he unlocked his phone.

I’ll bring the cookies, you bring the coffee?

He exhales and smiles. Although the text is from a random number he knows who it’s from and goes to immediately save the number. 

His stomach does a flip as he decides how he wanted to play this. Ok, breathe. 

Indy shrieks when the phone dings again.

DIETER: Oh, I think that can be arranged sweetheart.

DIETER: What time? I want to make sure the coffee is hot for you…

“Ohhh shit!” Indy grabs you by the shoulders and shakes. “See, I fucking told you!”

“Shit, what do I say?”

Ugh. Was that too much? That second bit was too much, right? 

Ding. Dieter unlocks his phone.

🍪 ☕ BELLE: Hmm. Like 6? Is that too early?

🍪 ☕ BELLE: Also, any requests?

Ding. 

“Oh, this is so fun!” Indy giggles.

DIETER: 6 is perfect.

DIETER: Macadamia nut please. 😉

Indy gets up and starts running around the kitchen island giggling. You couldn’t help but smile. Suddenly you weren’t tired anymore, this interaction giving you a little burst of adrenaline. 

🍪 ☕ BELLE: I think that can be arranged.

🍪 ☕ BELLE: Good night. And thank you, by the way. 🙂

“Was the smiley too much?”

“He sent you a goddamn winky face, so no I don’t think a smiley is too much.”

Ding.

DIETER: Sweet dreams, Belle.

“Fuck, I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight.”

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A/N: Eeek! I hope you liked the last bit alternating between them receiving texts from each other. Our poor, flustered babies! They’ll get it together, I promise. I'm honestly a little intimidated of writing the smut, but these two need it dammit, so I'll get over myself :)

If you’re still here, thank you so much for reading. For those who have commented, reblogged, or liked any or all of the chapters so far THANK YOU. It really makes my day whenever I hear your thoughts or encouragement. 

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or if I inadvertently left you off or added you by mistake. :)

Tag list: @musings-of-a-rose / @legendary-pink-dot / @bitchwitch1981 / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @gracie7209 / @amneris21 / @pastelnap

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #dieter x reader #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fic #working title fic

[kedsandtubesocks]

Go Play Your Video Games

Summary: As a small time gaming streamer, you like your little cozy corner online. But when a subscriber donates a couple of thousand during a charity stream, he swears it’s because he’s an actor. You know the rule about never truly trusting anything on the internet. So there’s no way an actual actor can be watching you stream, right?

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x YouTuber!Reader

Word Count: 11.4K

Rating: M (18+ only)

Warnings: slight phone sex and allusions to sex, drug mentions, if there is anything I’ve missed please let me know (also sorry no beta reader we embrace the chaos the way dieter would)

A/N: Ok so, reader has a YouTube channel name and nickname but I promise it connects to the story so I just wanted to give that heads up! Second there are game references but nothing extreme or that you need to know for reading this. Third yes the title is based off the song ‘video games’ but i highly recommend Trixie Mattel’s cover of it! Fourth and final this is for @skeletoncowboys and @lowlights - my two lovely angels I truly can’t thank you both enough… this would not be here without y’all, you two are my guiding stars

and to you reading this, thank you 💜

Dieter is worried as balls he’s going to be late.

His manager has been talking for so long now that the dude sounds like a parent from a Charlie Brown special, just mumbling muffled crap that Dieter hasn’t even been listening to since fifteen minutes ago.

“Dieter. Dieter, man are you even paying attention?” His manager snaps and Dieter waves half heartedly at him.

“No.” He answers truthfully while his eyes stay focus on the other side of his laptop screen where the YouTube page is opened. Fuck he’s thankful the screen hasn’t changed. His eyes even stopped trying to flicker between the zoom meeting and the YouTube window. Now he just flat out patiently stares at the load screen buffering. 

“You know what, fine. We’ll just figure this out tomorrow.” His poor manager sighs giving up.

“Yeah I know. I said earlier we should have discussed this tomorrow but whatever, okay bye!” Dieter cries happily and immediately clicks out of the zoom meeting to maximize the other window. The screen however suddenly freezes in the process. 

“God damnit shitty hotel wifi!” Dieter screams horrified, scary movie worthy. 

It’s just a snag of a moment but it is costing him time. He now scrambles to try and do something, anything, to bring the screen to life.

Because he’s been waiting for this moment. 

A face reveal. Your face reveal. 

You normally did all your ‘let’s play’ game streams faceless. You mentioned how you wanted everyone to focus on the game while also admitting that you felt a bit self conscious about showing your face. 

But then the charity stream collab came. 

“If you guys donate and we make it past one thousand dollars I’ll do it. I’ll do a face reveal stream. And who knows, maybe I’ll do a few more if we reach anything past our goal.”

You announced that during the stream a few weeks ago while your character ran around the Sim’s. 

Dieter did not hesitate. He donated the entire thousand himself and added two extra thousand dollars just in case. He even recorded the moment it happened because it was so damn cute. You were so damn cute. 

On stream when you suddenly saw the amount you cough out whatever you were taking a sip from. It made him laugh.

“Okay DB Blaster what the HELL?” Your reaction? Saying his user name? One of his top ten favorite moments of all time for sure.

Now the face reveal stream is here.

He already knows you’re probably beautiful, just knows because he can tell. The energy and aura you give off? Yeah he knows you’re gorgeous. Plus his actors’s intuition is no joke.

But now he gets to know what color your eyes are, how your face looks when it lights up when you laugh. 

And the damn stupid hotel wifi is fucking up his entire LIFE. 

As if nothing, the laptop screen unfreezes and there, the stream pops up. Dieter thinks he actually hears angels singing as the stream loads. 

“Come ON!” He screams at the laptop so tempted to shake it. 

And then, there you are. 

You sit on a cozy gaming chair. The light of your bedroom bathes you in a golden glow as you grin warm. It damn near twinkles in your eyes. 

Dieter inhales so fast his head goes dizzy. His heart suddenly jumps wild as hell in his chest and he’s worried it might fly out of his ass.

Because yeah he knew you were going to be pretty, but he didn’t think you’d be down right gorgeous.

He sits stunned in the nice hotel chair.

A piece of him thinks about that one podcast he listened to on how YouTube culture is meant to distract the masses so the alien overlords could take over easier. But right now he thinks the alien overlords could show up, burn his hotel room down and he wouldn’t give a rats ass. He wouldn’t even move from his chair. 

Because there you are, separated by millions of pixels and glass screens always. And fuck, you are beautiful and his heart now soars far out of his chest.

Dieter happily grabs from the snack pile he curated to perfection for this event. He mindlessly shoves cheezits into his mouth. The salty cheese snack is enough to finally snap him out of the trance you put him under and immediately type something in your chat. 

Streaming started off as a half joke to you. 

During the peak of the pandemic the boredom, as well as the ache to just connect with your friends, is what brought you to live video game streaming.

You had played a few rounds of Mario Kart before with online play. But to fully play multiplayer games over a livestream with your friends? 

That was how Twitch was introduced to you. 

“Let’s just use it to play stupid games together!” Your best friend argued over a voice memo.

Twitch became a simple fun time to play with your friends. You laughed on private streams and enjoyed chasing your friends around trying to figure out who was the killer in Dead by Daylight. 

Then your best friend had the crazy idea of uploading one of the livestreams into the main tag. 

“Dude we’re funny, you are funny! Why not?” 

“If you do that I’m hiding my face.” You vehemently told them.

Now here you are.

A full YouTube channel with 10K followers and doing a full on face reveal. 

If you had told the past you that your friend posting the nightly video game group hang out would have transformed into this, you would have probably passed out. 

But learning how to edit videos, gaining the confidence to post videos, straight up livestream with strangers, many who have now become dear friends since your Twitch days, and even finding friends among other streamers - all of this has led to where you sit now in your cozy gamer chair. 

Because here you are - halcyon ghost. 

And you are trying to keep yourself composed at witnessing chat go up into a whirlwind at finally seeing your face.

butterflybabe: GHOST?? U ARE GORGEOUS

ytgnfjkl: must avert my eyes from someone so pretty

JustCallMeSunny: UHH HAND IN MARRIAGE PLS

doodlenoodles: we gotta cancel ghost now for being too beautiful can we do that? 

khaki345: just proved to all of us those earth angel allegations are true pal

A childish urge to cover your face itches all over your body and you can’t stop smiling.

DB_Blaster: HEY! I knew ghostie would be lovely before everyone else did thank you! 

Then that comment has you smirking as you shake your head seeing the familiar chat name and Roger Rabbit icon. 

Outlandish, a bit eccentric, DB_Blaster appeared around a year ago. 

AJplays, your closest YouTube friend, advised that yes you can make great friends with a lot of subscribers and members. But you still always had to be careful.

“You don’t know who’s on the other side of the screen or chat ya know?” He had told you and you kept that in the back of your head, a silent awareness to always be just a bit careful.

And then DB Blaster weeks ago dropped a few thousand dollars during your livestream and you almost choked on your drink.

A year ago you made a discord server for channel members. There in a private discord chat you messaged the user who casually had donated enough money to make your head spin. 

Halcyonghost: did you seriously just drop 3K

DB_Blaster: excuse you I donated 5k  

Just as fast as he replied, he then donated another two thousand dollars.

DB_Blaster: do you need more? 🥺

You sent back a mess of screaming messages.

Most of them were confused and completely freaking out because who has the money to just drop thousands during a charity YouTube stream? 

Then this dumbass had the audacity to send you back a gif of Garfield shrugging.

After that you couldn’t help but want to find out more about this elusive DB.

Halcyonghost: so are you some sort of mob member? Is there a mobster actually wanting to watch some youtuber play animal crossing?

DB_Blaster: HAHAHAHAHA

DB_Blaster: holy fuck if only

DB_Blaster: but nah ghostie, I’m an actor 😇

That was the first time he said he was an actor and you rolled your eyes. 

Halcyonghost: okay sure, believe the mobster theory even more now 

“He might just be some rich sugar daddy type dude.” AJ told you over a voice memo.

That theory felt closer to being true than the possibility of a real actor messaging you. After that DB slowly began to message at weird times of the day. Once at two in the morning he wished you a good day and sent a link to a weird but super funny tiktok. You also always could count on him to send you some of the most outlandish memes. 

It was cute and endearing in its own way. 

Now as you sort through chat and let the screen load for Stardew Valley an alert pops up on your phone.

Discord Alert: new message 

You covertly go to check it on the desktop. 

DB_Blaster: oh sweet ghostie you have me on my KNEES

DB_Blaster: you are gorgeous 

DB_Blaster: not even Billy Shakes could do your beauty justice 

Your lips fight back a smile as you type your reply back.

Halcyonghost: Billy Shakes?

DB Blaster quickly sends you a glittering photo of William Shakespeare wearing sunglasses. 

You hold back a stupid little giggle and simply decide to jump into playing.  

On stream you run around like crazy trying to fish and end up facilitating a discussion about what maybe do next stream to change things up.

AJPlays: play another horror game you coward

“Don’t be rude!” You wheeze playfully at your friend’s comment. “But I’m open to playing more horror games.”

friedpickle: let’s watch a movie!!

“A movie live watch would be fun.” You offer. “Would be a bit hard since YouTube is ridiculous on copyright movie shit.”

The private discord message notification goes off again.

DB_Blaster: you watch anyone of my movies you wouldn't have to worry about copy right issues I’ld take care of it 

You decide to be a bit playful. 

Halcyonghost: you sure are serious about the whole actor deal huh? 

DB_Blaster: as serious as the Oscar I got 🫡

Now you can’t help but egg him on.

Playfully you reply with the ‘sure Jan’ gif and return to streaming.

The joy of carving out this little space on the Internet for yourself is being reminded how fun it can really be. Sure chat can be a little chaotic to keep up with sometimes, but the conversations are wonderful. It does stun you from time to time to get hit with the realization that real folks watch you, interact with your content and want to talk with you. A fond warmth blooms through your chest even as you frustratedly lose another fish.

That’s when you finally glance at the time on your computer screen. 

“Woah team, why didn’t you guys tell me it was this late?” You announce through a yawn seeing it’s about to be past nine.

“Well,” you begin a bit heartfelt and slowly bare your heart. You explain how you never thought you’d get this brave to become a streamer, much less show your face. You sincerely thank everyone who watches, interacts and makes this little nook of the internet so special for you. 

Chat blows up and giddiness overwhelms you at the response.

So many cute hearts and massive sweet messages.

AJPlays: LOVE YOU!!

sam maybe: nothing but love for you!

It’s all a beautiful reminder that yeah being online sometimes is good.

As you log off chat you reach for your phone. A few emails from work, texts from your parents, and a couple of alerts from discord wait for you. You check the main server chat first.

doodlenooodles: we should make this day a national holiday -national halcyon ghost face day reveal 

JustAshley: agreed 

An amused snort escapes you and you move to check the few private discord messages you have.

One is AJ screaming his demand for you to play another horror game along with sending a photo of his partner's sweet dog.

Then two messages wait for you from DB Blaster.

The first is a photo.

A very prestigious Oscar award gleams on a mantle. An opened bag of chips casually is crunched beside it. From how shiny it glistens in the light, the award looks official. Not believing it for a second though, you click on the photo to investigate. You zoom in on the award where the name can be made out even in the gleam of the light.

Academy Award Winner

“Hunger Strike”

Dieter Bravo  

“Wait.” You admit outloud.

Why did that name sound familiar?

You google the name and up pops the very handsome veteran actor. You suddenly remember the ads he was in for that Beast Cliff movie your best friend raved were pure delicious golden trash.

There is no way it’s that guy. 

Halcyonghost: That’s a good replica lol are you a big fan of his?

DB_Blaster: definitely not a replica and I guess you could say that lol 👀 

His profile name now made sense. This guy had to be a huge fan of Dieter Bravo. You could respect that. 

DB_Blaster: on another note! I’m glad you did a face reveal, you really are so attractive like wowza

A bit forward, you thought. But he’s quick to apologize.

DB_Blaster: shit sorry I don’t wanna be creepy

DB_Blaster: I just remember how nervous and hesitant you were about ever showing your face and now you getting to this point? rad as fuck 

A sweet appreciation unfolds over you fast, sweetening your teeth as if you had just taken a bite out of your favorite cake. 

This person has been with you for around a year now. So for him, along with all the other members that have stuck around, to recognize this moment is just as big of a deal for you as it was for them is incredible. The true depth of your emotions feel too big to be captured by words. 

Halcyonghost: aw shucks thank you

You explain how as nervous you were, by the time stream hit the hour mark everyone made it feel like you were back to streaming with your friends. You happily embrace that feeling

DB_Blaster: awww you like us! 🥹♥️

Halcyonghost: Of course! Everyone who comes to stream and interacts is what pushes creators like us & I never want to forget or take for granted anyone who views my work 

You were lucky and grateful for the sweet community that’s grown with you.

DB_Blaster: wow, pretty poetic and sentimental ghostie I like it

DB_Blaster: 🥰

You smirk cause it’s not even that poetic but you don’t have the energy to correct him. It’s getting late and you want to start heading to bed.

DB_Blaster: can I ask you something? Since you’re being sentimental and what not.

DB_Blaster: and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to but I’ve always want to know

DB_Blaster: why did u get into streaming?

Why did you get into streaming and YouTube?

DB_Blaster: fuck shit I’m sorry if that was too invasive

He even sends a worried cat face picture. 

What a question to ask though. You thought you had discussed this on stream or even on a previous video before. Now you wonder if maybe you hadn’t mentioned it. All your friends knew about how you got to this point. They were the aid and the only reason why you got the push anyway. 

Halcyonghost: No worries its all good

Halcyonghost: guess like everyone else the pandemic kinda just pushed me to try new things, decided to play on twitch with friends on a private stream and then a few streams later my best friend decides to post it on a main tag and it blows up

Halcyonghost: then one brave fuck it decision later a YouTube channel is born and here we are lol

Halcyonghost: sorry if that’s not too exciting 

DB_Blaster: no that’s everything

DB_Blaster: it’s special knowing this turned into something meaningful for you it’s great  

It catches you off guard at how endearing the message is.

Halcyonghost: wow that’s real sweet thank you ♥

You mean that reply.

After you brush your teeth, you pass out in your bed forgetting to see if he replied back. Strangely enough, the image of a golden Oscar lingers in the back of your mind.

The beautiful moments of enjoying streaming, of getting to bask in how special this little outlet, are what you treasure. But those moments when work, life, clash with your little carved out corner it reminds you that sometimes you need to step away from everything for a bit.

Halcyon Ghost: hey guys, tough day at work today… going have to reschedule stream :( real sorry about this!!

The replies are sweet, reassuring along with some humorous ones. One comes from your mystery man on a private discord message. 

DB_Blaster: do you need me to take someone out? 

It’s enough to make you laugh and a relaxed ease melts away some of your stress. 

Halcyonghost: Tempting! But stand down Don Corleone

DB_Blaster, catching your godfather reference, sends you a gif of the classic ‘‘leave the gun take the cannoli’ scene. 

DB_Blaster: sorry work was so tough, anything I can do to help?

You thank him and explain how it’s just work stuff getting you down. Of course you make the joke about one day becoming a full time streamer because every little YouTuber at one point wonders about the life of having that as their job.

DB_Blaster: you should, I’d support you. No lie. 

You’re about to dig into the takeout you order and you’re thankful you didn’t take a bite because you would have coughed out a little laugh at seeing that message. 

Halcyonghost: Ahh yes forgot… talking to a scary rich mobster here lol   

He sends a gif of Marlon Brando’s Don Corleone and it does make you giggle. 

DB_Blaster: but seriously, you ever need anything

DB_Blaster: I know it sounds weird but pls let me know okay??

It’s oddly sweet. But of course you sharply remember how this guy donated thousands easily and it only intensely rattles your mind thinking about what kind of man this guy is. 

Halcyonghost: thank you ♡

Halcyonghost: so…what do you seriously do? Besides being a mobster obsessed with one random actor lol 

DB_Blaster: Rude!!

DB_Blaster: and I told you

DB_Blaster: I am a thespian ghostie babe 😎

He really is sticking to that. 

You want to poke fun but you also understood not wanting to discuss personal aspects. So you apologize for asking. He doesn’t reply for a full ten minutes and you now wonder if maybe you could be upsetting him. 

Discord alert: DB_Blaster sent you a voice message!

That new alert now makes you eve more worried.

You scramble to grab your headphones and you don’t know why your heart is hammering so much. You don’t hesitate to listen to the voice chat. 

“Ghostie.” The voice that greets you is pure smooth goodness. Thick, manly and older, and something feels as if it is being yanked out of your chest fast. 

“I swear I’m an actor.” He urges with a laugh. “Do you want me to send you my IMDB page? Or you know what, maybe this might help.”

The voice chat ends and you see the bubbles pop up suggesting he is typing a message in the discord chat.

A photo pops up.

The man in it is scruffy, a bit sleepy looking with bed head type hair. He holds up a peace sign and grins at you. This man is also gorgeous. Deep dark brown eyes and a sharp striking nose, for some reason his voice perfectly fits his features. 

His face again seems so familiar.

DB_Blaster: SEE! It me :) 

You can’t even reply to that yet.

You go back to googling the name that had first appeared when you saw that academy award.

Dieter Bravo.

The mess of paparazzi photos, screenshots from movies, to various interview clips, the man is the same as the one in the photo sent to you. 

This has to be a catfish. Someone really trying to keep their identity hidden and deciding to do some old fashion celebrity role play type deal.

You decide to do a deep dive. 

You check Twitter and find he’s not there any more. His Instagram is bare minimum and hasn’t seen a recent post since 2019. He has been included on a few TikToks. But to say that photo sent could be an older Instagram or Twitter photo Dieter Bravo took is too much.

You try turning your brain off from thinking about streaming or a possible catfish living in your messages. But curiosity scratches at you like an anxious kitten. There’s no way it could be the actual actor Dieter Bravo. 

Barely one episode into your favorite comfort series rewatch, you decide to check discord.

More messages wait for you. 

DB_Blaster: I know you think I’m lying

DB_Blaster: but I am not I swear! I vow on my life! 

DB_Blaster: if you feel comfortable enough you are more than welcome to video call me and see me with your own pretty eyes 😇

You want to scream.

There’s no way. But, what could you lose if you video chat with this person? Worst case? You drop the video call, block him on every account and pretend this never happened. Best case? You don’t even want to think about that because a best case feels so outlandish. 

Electricity hums through your veins and you sit up straight on your couch. 

You hit video call.

Loudly your heart hammers a vicious beat in your ears. The video chat rings twice. Someone answers.

There he is. 

Dieter Bravo, in the flesh, talking so bright and amused. His smile crinkles his deep eyes and the crisp light of his kitchen highlights his stunning features.

“Well well well, might have to call a paranormal investigator because I just made contact with a ghost!”

He talks first, so excited and haughty, and you can’t help it.

You hang up the video call.

Wild electrified clusters of emotions course through you so strong it feels as if your brain might shut down. 

Dieter Bravo. 

Dieter Bravo is a viewer of your channel and is who you have been chatting with.

You call him back. You have to make sure this is real and maybe not just a wild delusion.

Dieter Bravo again answers with the most Cheshire Cat pleased smile.

“Trouble with your wifi? I get it.” He asks so casually.

You really can’t believe it.

“You’re…you’re HOLY FUCK?” You scream.

Dieter barks a laugh.

“And here I was thinking I’d be the one freaking out.” He’s amused and it is so clear in the twinkle of those warm charcoal eyes.

“I told you I wasn’t lying ghostie!” Dieter urges excited. 

You could admit and testify that yes, known actor and academy award winner Dieter Bravo is not a liar. And also apparently, he is a fan of part time game streamers.

“I can’t believe it.” You mutter still stunned as hell.

“Believe it ghostie.” He replies swiftly.

“So how was your day before it got turned upside down?” He smirks proud. Even with that you find he is so casual and actually friendly? He mentions how his day went and how he’s excited to feast on the Taco Bell he door dashed. 

“How did…How did you even find my channel?” You breathlessly ask.

“Oh, we’re getting into the personal stuff already? I was hoping we’d get to that maybe by our second date but this is fantastic.” He replies back taking a bite out of the Taco Bell he told you he ordered.

“Oh my god.” You sputter out not even processing fully what he’s saying because this entire moment feels outrageous. 

He’s a celebrity. A full on icon who has been in the same room as Meryl Streep and here he is grinning at you like he’s won the lotto. 

“You know you’re even cuter than you are on stream. Really diggin’ the extra cozy vibes from my favorite cozy gamer.”

You wonder if maybe you should hang up on him again. 

“Let’s be serious here.” You huff. You just want to find out and piece together how this man found his way to you.

“Honestly?” He begins after taking a swig of a baja blast. 

“I had a bad break up a while back.” Dieter starts with a brisk and slightly detached voice. 

“Thought it’d be a long haul thing but…it’s whatever.” His voice drifts off as he moves to sit down. Dieter places his phone across from him so now it feels as if he is sitting across from you. The view gives you a full sight of his wild and vast Taco Bell haul. You also don’t miss the weed pipe resting beside his Baja blast. 

“Anyway, I was up late one night, couldn’t sleep. Went to look up a video about how humanity could possibly survive a kraken emerging from the depths of the sea, as one wonders about at three in the morning.”

A wild laugh almost escapes you, but you stay composed as best as you can.

“And then, the freaky as fuck YouTube algorithm decides to recommend me your video.” Dieter says.

“Wait.” Your voice sounds small, as if you’re afraid to shatter this moment. “Which one?”

You watch this handsome man’s face grow soft as his eyes look distant. He dives in to take a scoop out of his nacho pile and munch happily.

You already hate how attractive he is just eating. 

“It was the ‘I make a gay love cafe for my animal crossing villagers’ one.” His voice drips with evident fondness. For some reason though, just hearing the title of your video along with his soft voice does it for you. You start giggling. 

Maybe it’s the disbelief finally settling in or the exhaustion from the hard day you had, but you laugh and it aches your stomach. Dieter joins in thankfully laughing just as much as you are. 

It’s unreal, a twinkling moment you know you’ll never be able to capture again but it’s oddly wonderful.

“I guess you liked it?” You ask through a wheeze.

“Ghostie, I snorted a shit ton of coke just so I could stay awake till five am to binge all your videos.” He admits through a giggle.

“Holy shit!” You cough out a bit stunned at his reply.

“Well,” You manage to recompose yourself and even smile grateful because you are. “Sorry about the break up, those are always shit. But…I am glad you found my little video. Weird as that sounds.”

“It’s not weird.” Dieter reassures you and it knocks you breathless how directly he stares at you. You almost feel exposed. 

“It’s kismet, dear ghost.” Dieter tells you with so much eased simplicity it sounds a bit comedic. You can’t help but snort.

It might not be kismet but it was something.

Dieter and you end up messaging each other, constant and steady after that. He begins sending you pictures of the sky outside his LA apartment during his runs. One of them is a glorious tangerine lemonade sky.

DB_Blaster: sky kinda looks like a musty day old orange outside today, it’s kinda nice 

There’s a neighborhood cat he always gets excited to see and gladly sends you photos of the unamused white feline whenever he spots her.

You tell him about your day and you are surprised he balances asking about your videos and streaming to asking genuine questions about how you are doing. Interestingly enough you ask more questions about what video games.

“I’m a fucking killer at Mario kart. Love The Sims, the grim reaper is my roommate there.” Figures.

“One day I wanna play Mario Party.” He gladly tells over a voice chat. 

“Oh my god you’d be ridiculous at Mario party.” You snicker back. “And the sims…it fits you.”

“Thank you.” He proudly replies and it makes you grin so ridiculously.

Dieter Bravo is charming, but you know he is. You would never admit it to him but that night, that first night after you discovered Dieter was in fact DB_Blaster, you went on an entire Dieter Bravo interview deep dive. 

You watched how personable he could be with someone interviewing him. But you also witnessed the side of him that could be a real ass. There was an old Rolling Stone article you read briefly that described him as “an enigma of a man you’d run into at a bathroom and believe you fever dreamed the entire interaction” and that entirely described Dieter perfectly.

By the time your weekly night stream arrives, you can’t help but think of him. He promised you he would be present. 

“Ghostie I’ve only missed ONE of your streams and it was only because I was on shrooms and got explosive diarrhea. Not a good night for me.”

It horrified you hearing that but also had you holding back the giggles because the earnestness in his voice was so pure. 

Dieter Bravo is a pure enigma of a man for sure.

You decide to stream again with your face camera on to embrace the weight and joy of being known. And also because a secret, but very aware part of you, knows Dieter Bravo watches you. 

Your mind wanders to the photos of him at the academy awards. You honestly stared at those for a good few minutes because you could get over how much of a god he looked in his striking tux. 

You also think of the one day he video chatted with you. Obvious coke residue was dusted on his nose and he wore a Golden Girl’s shirt that had Cheeto dust on it. Even witnessing that side of him, a deep fondness and even deeper attraction for this chaotic cluster of a man infects you rapidly. 

Drop kicking those thoughts away, you jump into playing Tears of the Kingdom. A small discussion buzzes in the chat about which of Zelda’s outfits are the best. You go to check on chat and your heart jumps straight into your throat seeing the familiar user name now among the bunch. 

DB_Blaster: Ghostieeeee, my dear you are looking extra ethereal today 🥰 

A sharp heat spreads over your cheeks and a giddiness surges through you.

“Moron.” You snicker mainly to yourself even though you know chat probably caught it.

An alert pops up from discord. You click onto it quickly and find a private message. 

DB_Blaster: you’re adorable when you get flustered 

You are falling down a dangerously slippery slope for this dumb actor. Mentally you want to sink your fingers onto a ledge to stop yourself from going into a free fall.

You simply reply back with a silly nonsense gif because it’s all you can muster. 

Stream goes smoothly and you call it in early for the night. Another discord message awaits you and this time you already know who it’s from.

DB_Blaster: what’s the one thing you need the most for streaming?

That stuns you.

When you took the jump into streaming you promised yourself you’d only get the basics and nothing too expensive. Because sure, as much as you would love to spend a couple extra bucks on a better microphone, better software, or even a full time editor you had bills to pay, snacks to buy.

You simply reply back that better audio would be nice.

DB_Blaster: wait how do you buy better audio? 🗣️

You laugh and find it so easy to video call him now. 

When he answers, Dieter is not in his lavish LA apartment but a similarly lavish and sleek hotel.

“Hi ghostie.” He grins. 

“Wait where are you?” 

“Rude! Did you forget I had an audition for a new Broadway production?!” Dieter gasps hurt. 

“No, I remembered! I was just surprised you didn’t fly back home already.” 

He scoffs. “No way, and miss getting some New York pizza? Plus I’m lazy and just would rather deal with LAX tomorrow.”

As you snicker you decide to settle in for the night. Propping him up against your mirror in the bathroom Dieter suddenly gasps again.

“Am I in your bathroom?! We haven’t even gone on a proper date yet!” 

“I’m gonna hang up on you.” You smirk, shaking your head. 

A thought suddenly trickles in. You think of AJplays and a few other streamers who are now all your dear friends. There is a small but dear step it takes to see more of the person behind the youtube name.

So you take that step. You give Dieter your real name.

“You can call me that now.” You try to be eased with it as you go to wash your face for the night until you catch how direct Dieter stares at you.

He repeats your name, breathing it out on an exhale that sounds reverent. It galvanizes your heart into a dangerous spring. 

“Yup, that’s me.” You weakly reply.

“Your name suits you.” Dieter sincerely says. 

“Thanks. Halcyon Ghost is my middle name.” 

That makes Dieter laugh and you hate the excitement rushing in you from making him laugh.

Dieter Bravo is truly such a wild but interesting man. He has told you about the time he almost jumped into the water fountain at the Bellagio in Las Vegas. Then over a video call he softly revealed how he wants to create art, performances, that connect with people even long after his soul has passed into the next dimension. 

“S’why I got into acting.” He had said so simply. 

You can’t believe this strange endearing man now sits in your phone urging you to do a cliché beauty influencer talkthrough of your night time routine. 

You raise up your boring moisturizer with the peeling label in the way you had seen in TikToks and videos. However your lack of enthusiasm immediately has Dieter and you busting out wild giggles like school children trying to keep quiet in a library. 

Eventually you and him settle into a comfortable eased conversation.

“So you talked about audio earlier…what do you need for better audio?” Dieter of course brings that up again. 

“Eh, a better microphone, or some sound mixing equipment. But like I said, I'm good with what I have.” You are. 

“I could get you something nicer.” His voice echoes off the walls of your small bathroom and your eyes go wide.

“Uh no!” You chide him. “Please don’t buy me things!”

“Why?” He debates simply.

“Because…because I said so!” You sputter back. Because the thought of this gorgeous man spending money on you is making your knees want to buckle.

“Aren’t we friends? Friends buy each other things.” Dieter replies stubbornly. 

“Not new hundred dollar mics!” You fire back just as stubbornly.

“Oh they’re only a hundred dollars? Baby that’s nothing.” He scoffs. But the new nickname he so casually calls you rips a new heat through your body. It crawls up your spine and makes your throat going dry. 

You stay quiet not knowing what to say or not trusting what you might say.

“Did I upset you ghostie?” Dieter asks playful but the concern is there.

“No, I'm just tired.” You lie.

“Uh huh.” He doesn’t believe you for a second and you know it.

“Come on,” you grab him from his perch against your mirror and give him a sleepy grin. “Bed time.”

“Are you taking me to bed now, little ghost!? If I knew we were taking this step I would’ve ordered us dinner before!” Dieter exclaims again dramatically and over the top. 

You laugh in disbelief and settle against your bed frame.

“You moron.” You can’t help but sigh fondly.

“Yeah your moron.” He offers back gently. 

Was he slowly becoming yours, or were you just becoming his? All you can do is grin soft at him and shrug. 

“So, you wearing any cute underwear?” He flat out asks. You place your phone down and away from you on the blanket as if to put him in timeout.

Dieter barks a hilarious and loud laugh that fills your room with warm energy you can almost hold in your hands.

You pick up the phone and glare at him.

“You better behave.” You chide him with no malice because your mind is still trying to settle down from the question he asked. 

“I will, I will. I swear on my Oscar.” Dieter reassures. It only makes you roll your eyes. 

“Tell me why you picked your YouTube name, halcyon ghost.” He says your channel name with proper grand bravado.

It was October when you made the channel. Your thoughts immediately went to something spooky. You also explained how you always thought the word ‘halcyon’ was nice.

“So why not.” You finish explaining a bit anticlimactic.

“Did you know the word comes from some like Greek myth too?” Dieter offers then happily jumps in to retell it.

“Halcyon was the name of some bird. It had the ability to calm rough seas whenever it went to nest or some shit. It’s why the word ‘halcyon’ means tranquility and peace.”

Everytime you are reminded of how worldly and sometimes sagely this ridiculous man can be it knocks something solid through your chest. 

“That’s beautiful.” You admit. 

Dieter hums thoughtful. “Yeah.” 

His eyes suddenly flicker to unflinching look to you. It is just you and him staring so directly at each other. But you can’t hold his gaze for long. You blink away, not even truly focusing on anything. 

“So no true poetic meaning picking ‘ghost’?” Dieter asks now interested and curious. 

You laugh. “I mean, not really?”

You could probably do some deep analysis and talk about how as a creator, it’s easy to feel like a ghost when there is no interaction with the content created. 

You wanted to keep your face, your identity, a bit hidden so the ghost image fit.

“But you know how that went.” You joke.

He snickers.

“Ghosts also haunt things.” Dieter offers with a light tone.

“They do.” You nod.

“Would you believe me if I said you have been haunting me?” Dieter admits into the quiet space of your bedroom.  

Your heart trips, skips a beat and you try to control your face but it’s so hard when your eyes snap to his fast.

A moment passes with his wonderfully magnetic eyes again staring at you but now he seems to be waiting for you to say something, anything. Even over a simple video chat the atmosphere in your room thickens, becomes hazy, and it begins to sink beneath your skin. 

All you can do is nervously laugh. “I’d say that’s a good one and you should save it for chat.”

Humor, it’s all that you have sometimes. Plus, you don’t know if he is being serious or playful. It’s hard to find the hard line between the two when he’s an actor, a man known for putting up fronts. Because even though you now see him as a friend, there is still a strange space between you and him that you want to cautiously navigate. It feels like a deep river that if you take one more step into you might fall into a rushing tide. 

Dieter hums and you don’t miss how his eyes immediately lower a bit downcast.

“I’ll let you go for the night ghostie.” Dieter mutters. 

The tension does not leave your room even when the video calls leaves and it makes your skin crawl.

You are at a company dinner Friday night when the email comes.

“Hi Halcyon Ghost

Exciting news! Here is your invitation to this year’s VidCon held in Los Angeles California!”

It is a clash of two worlds and you can’t focus your excitement into anything without making one of your coworkers confused.

AJ already has messaged you screaming with his excitement over you and him receiving the same invite.

You and him already start screaming a plan to meet up and room together.

For some reason your mind jumps to Dieter. 

You want to tell him, want to freak out the same way you did when he proudly called you to announce he got the broadway part he auditioned for. He’s become such a strange but solid facet in your life it almost aches how badly you want him more than anything. 

Because you’re still at dinner you decide to message him quick and fast in discord. So fast you don’t even remember what you sent. By the time you return to your apartment you find a mess of messages waiting for you.

DB_Blaster: MY DEAR GHOST?? EXCUSE ME?!?!?!

DB_Blaster: WHAT A PRO! WHAT AN ICON!!!

DB_Blaster: 🎉C O N G R A T S 🎉 BABY!!!

DB_Blaster: GHOSTIE!!! CALL ME NOW!!

You do so eagerly.

“Uh hello?” He answers in a bad accent that you vaguely remember from that bad Cliff beast whatever movie. “Is this pro gamer halcyon ghost? Now famous VidCon invitee?”

You laugh is bright and loud and you don’t care.

“I can’t believe it!” You cry. “Me, AJ, and a few of our other friends got the invite! I mean it’s just an invite and it’s not much but-“

“No,” he cuts you off sharply and even frowns. “Don’t do that, give yourself credit. Your content is awesome as fuck and you deserve this!” 

Your face drops because he sounds so sincere.

He notices it too. Over the phone’s screen you watch as Dieters eyes flicker and scan over your face so intently.

“God I’m so fucking proud of you.” He breathes out and it makes your spine snap straight.

“Dieter…” you exhale and now catch that familiar shift coming in the air. Even over the video chat you again sense it, something brewing and becoming uncontainable, stretching thin as if it's a wire maybe about to snap. 

Then your phone rings.

You cuss sharp under your breath.

Your best friend’s hilarious photo pops up on your phone. You know the call is to congratulate you on the invite. But you know there’s something even more pressing here sitting in the air between you and Dieter. You don’t want to avoid it anymore. The elated energy, the buzz of the high, makes you want to face whatever this is head on, to dive right into whatever is brewing beneath the tides. 

Your eyes shoot an apologetic look to Dieter. An understanding but little crooked grin paints his features and makes him look so boyish. 

“Text me back or call me when you can.” 

Dieter hangs up and you already ache for the actor you’ve grown so deeply fond of.

The phone call with your best friend is wonderful, joyous, and you appreciate the support like this in your life. But it’s getting late and you can’t help but think about the actor still possibly waiting for you. 

So you grasp onto the exuberant energy still humming through your system. You harness it with all your might and immediately call him. You chide yourself for getting caught up in the excitement and not video calling him. 

Then Dieter answers.

“Ghostie?” He sounds wrecked, out of breath.

“Hi yeah, it’s me. Sorry, am I interrupting something?” You offer small and so worried now. 

Until he sighs and it sounds soaked in sex, so delicious and dangerous.

“Baby…” he sighs your name out and it has never sounded more sacred. 

“You gotta know,” Dieter whines. “You gotta know how much I want you.”

You are sent out of orbit. Your mind, your body, all melt as everything inside you ignites in a fierce flame. 

A few weeks ago you learned one of Dieter’s movies involved a heated sex scene.

After searching and finally finding the clip, it shot the strongest dosage of arousal through your body at a dizzying speed. You rewatched it an embarrassing amount of times, more than you even want to admit to yourself. You thought about how fierce and consuming he kissed his costar. And now those scenes vividly flash in your head, begging you to fall into the beautiful abyss creeping up below you.

“Dieter.” You reply a bit choked. 

The faint wet noise of his hand stroking his cock comes and it makes you swallow back a whine.

“Wanted you for so long, think about you all the time.” Dieter mutters in a trance. 

“I…” there’s so much you want to say, so much you want to discuss. But heat licks a blazing path through your veins. It makes your underwear sticky and so wet already. All those hesitations and all thoughts you had flutter away. 

“Don’t think,” Dieter coos like a soft siren begging you to join him. “Just feel, come on baby. Feel with me.”

So you do. Your hand slips greedily beneath your underwear and you feel everything right there with him in the warm glow of your bedroom.

Sunday night you are on a discord voice call with Dieter as he waits out his canceled flight.

After not talking to him all Saturday he was the one to finally break and call you first. You’re surprised you even answered. 

“I can hear you thinking ghostie.” Dieter hums amused.

It’s been on your mind this entire time since Friday, since the phone sex - the thought of whatever you and him are becoming, have now become.

“Talk to me.” He offers soft, soft like the way he wishes you good night over voice memos every night now.

“Do you think about how we have like…different layers? Like I know your job is literally about being someone else. And I understand you present yourself a certain way even in interviews and you aren’t even your true self there-”

“If you watch that one buzzfeed interview I did high I think you’d recant your words baby.” He jokingly interjects and you snort. 

“You know what I mean.” You gently return back to the thought you’ve been wanting to discuss with him. 

“And with me, I know I have layers of how I’m perceived online and I just…” your voice trails off now thinking you might be getting caught up in your words. 

“You think we’re both just caught up in the projected perceptions of the other huh?” Dieter muses. 

It again startles you how perceptive he is.

If there is anything that you would have not pictured Dieter Braver to be, it's perceptive. But he is. This is of course the same man who told you how he once drank a Baja blast out of a black licorice because he wondered if the flavor would change. But he’s also deeply intuitive, even a bit wise, and those traits shine so warmly now.

“Ghostie,” he begins and then says your real name. “Remember when I told you how I found your videos? How I said it was…wait fuck what did I say it was like?”

“Kismet,” you smirk saying the word.

“Yeah that’s it thank you baby!” Dieter cheers. “Okay anyway, I said that ‘cause it’s true. Your video was like…some damn lifeline I didn’t know I fucking needed. Finding you felt like I was returning from a haze.”

Confliction bubbles in you with an acidic wave. Pride, gratitude, and even deep admiration rise up all for him but it also strongly clashes with the fierce realist in you. 

“And then I got to know you.” He adds firm. “I learned what your favorite take out meal is. I still remember the story you told me about your most embarrassing moment. I learned about the movies you love and the ones you hate.”

Hours were spent discussing movies. You should have known any movie talk with an actor would result in hour long debate over which Lord of the Rings movie is best since Dieter swears it’s the first. 

“I know you.” He urges.

“I mean, I don’t know who your favorite teacher was and shit but I…I think I know you. You’re now not just the cute as fuck streamer who brought me out of my dumps. You’re someone who’s been brigtening the FUCK out of my life just from hearing you talk about what you plan to get at the grocery store.”

You don’t realize you’re on the verge of tearing up until you blink and find tears blurring your vision.

“Still can’t believe you donated that much.” You sniffle.

“Yeah but doing that let us all see your lovely face so ha.” Dieter replies haughtily.

“Look baby, let’s just keep getting to know and grow with each other, yeah?” He offers in a hopeful and warm tone that reminds you of a tangerine sunrise. 

“Yeah.” You agree and gently walk into that tangerine sunrise.

“Now will you let me buy you some new audio shit?” He asks in an annoying childish high pitch voice and the soft moment gets squashed. But it is pure Dieter. 

“You moron.” You choke out through an affectionate laugh.

“Yeah your moron ghostie!” He exclaims with all his might.

“Please tell me you did not just yell that in the middle of an airport.”

“Oh you know I’ve acted worse in an airport. That was nothing.” He scoffs.

You do know. Dieter explained, even sent articles, about how he ran around the Denver Airport once trying to see if there were actual lizard people in the tunnels. It’s why he is forever banned there.

Remembering that solidifies his words.

To know someone is a blessing, a privilege, even if the stories surrounding them are so wild and ridiculous. Maybe even more so with this man.

Because to know Dieter Bravo is to know he is ridiculous, wild, a bit eccentric, but entirely warm and heartfelt. 

You realize you never want to know a day without him. 

That thought blooms into firm wonderful roots that immediately grow in your heart’s chambers.

By the time VidCon approaches only a month away you, Dieter is now simply calling you over your phone. Discord voice and video chats no more. 

“So what are your LA plans?” Dieter asks while chewing through some jerky.

“Well AJ and I already got a room booked by the convention center so that’s my biggest relief.” You and AJ already had excitedly joked about maybe running into a celebrity. A part of you even now has to suppress giggling at just thinking about how you have daily phone calls with a known celebrity buzzfeed articles have deem ‘Sexy AF.’ 

Except right now said celebrity burps disgustingly loud in your ear.

“Dieter, gross.” You frown. 

“Sorry babe…Anyway,” Dieter bounces back quickly. “Want me to pick you up from the airport?”

You almost drop your phone.

“Honey what?” You wheeze out.

“I love it when you call me honey!” He gushes so obnoxiously. You’ve been calling him honey for months now and it never fails he says this every time.

“Focus Bravo.”

“Yeah okay,” he sighs. “As I was saying, let me just pick you up from the airport.”

The thought of finally seeing him in person freezes you. After months of doing the long distance thing, having incredible phone and video sex, everything now settles in you fast. From your excitement, to the fear of him actually seeing you in person-

“Ghostie.” Dieter breaks into your thoughts with a sing song like tone.

You sigh now “Sorry honey.”

Dieter giggles dreamily. “Honey.”

You sigh again. 

“Let me pick you up baby.” He suddenly purrs low as if he wasn’t just giggling like a lovesick fangirl a split second before. 

It would solve your issue about dealing with a ride share or even the horrifying thought of getting a rental. 

“Sure, why not.”

Dieter screams loud as if his favorite sports team just scored but Dieter doesn’t care for sports and you hang up your phone.

He simply now texts you: [See you at stream tonight babeyyy]

You playfully reply back: [not if i block you 😊]

He simply sends back a gif of a dumb minion blowing a kiss and you now really contemplate blocking him.

Later that night on stream, as you play the most recent Pokémon game, you see Dieter’s name pop up.

DB_Blaster: hello beautiful my ghost 

You hid your smirk behind the hand your face is leaning on.  

Chat of course ignores him while they excitedly continue to send encouraging words about the upcoming VidCon trip. A few members even eagerly hope they can run into you at the convention. It is exciting and reminds you of the exciting energy that awaits before a big vacation.

Then a chime comes from chat.

This one alerts you that someone sent a super chat, which includes a donation with it.

Your eyes readily flicker over to check and thank whoever sent it. Then your eyes almost pop out of your socket.

DB_Blaster - $900 super chat! 

“What the fuck!?” You can’t help but flat out shriek. 

Thankfully chat reacts just as wild.

butterflybabe: dude db_blaster can you like adopt me??

justAshley: I am manifesting this type of energy to find me oh my god

You scramble quickly to your phone to text him in all caps about what the fuck does he think he’s doing.

[Dieter: for ur mic and audio shit baby!]

[Dieter: Don’t think I forgot 🥰]

[Dieter: or for maybe a new vibrator hmm 👀????]

You swallow back the scream you want to let out and instead slam your phone back down.

Recovering fast you grin at the chat. 

“Don’t worry everyone, DB Blaster is actually my estranged rich grandmother, so let’s all say thank you to her! Thank you grandma!” You smile bright and wide on camera. 

Dieter straight up calls you in the middle of the stream and you can’t help it. You laugh and almost knock over your microphone. 

After scrambling for the days off, shoving everything into a suitcase, suddenly the month is over and you are landing in Los Angeles ready for VidCon. 

LAX is an experience, like a whole world encapsulated in one place.

There is a MAC makeup store, a Michael Kors and then a Jersey Mikes. You don’t want to wander around too much before getting lost in its depths. You can almost hear Dieter’s voice rattling off in your head, warning you not to get lost or else the alien creatures living in the airports will grab you and make you play monopoly with them like a scene out of a bad 80’s Sci Fi movie. 

Thankfully you don’t have to wait too long to actually hear his voice. Your phone rings and you rapidly scramble to answer it.

“Hello?” You breathlessly answer.

“Baby,” His voice is drenched in disappointment and so much heartbreak. “My ghostie…Fuck I’m so sorry I can’t make it.”

You knew he would be cutting it close with his photoshoot.

“Honey it’s okay I promise.” You reassure him but you still are a bit heartbroken. Your excitement escapes you like a deflated balloon getting caught up in the ceiling of the Los Angeles airport.

“I’ll make it up to you I swear!” Dieter urges with devout conviction.  

You know he will, in his own Dieter way and that’s enough to comfort you. 

The walk to the rideshare pickup area is solemn but you carry yourself and your luggage with gathered dignity. Thankfully your Uber driver is sweet and you enjoy the chat during the drive. She happily suggests restaurants and different bars to check out making the trip to the hotel not too bad.

Finding AJ already in the lobby waiting for you makes the journey even better. After the hilarious freak out for finally meeting, you now eagerly discuss dinner plans with him.

“Maybe we can go food truck hunting?!” AJ offers excitedly.

You agree with just as much excitement and move to open the door.

There in the room a full array of colors explode before your eyes. So many flowers cover almost every surface of the hotel room. Their arrangements are large and fan out with flair. From gorgeous deep crimson roses to colorful lilies vibrantly begging to be smelled, it overwhelms you but in the best way.

“Okay, what the fuck?!” AJ cries. “Is this because we’re here for VidCon?!”

You want to think it is. But the teddy bear almost the size of the hotel wall nestled happily in the corner says otherwise. Especially because the sweet bear rocks some cool bright neon sunglasses, wears an ‘I ♥️ LA’ t-shirt and has a rolled up white paper taped to his mouth as a mock joint. 

Your eyes however now go straight to the sweet little bundle of flowers, your favorite actually, that sit patiently on the coffee table.

A white folded note rests among the flowers.

‘Ghostie’ the handwriting is sleek but messy, scribbled fast but with intent. The sight of it already clogs your throat because it’s exactly how you’d picture Dieter’s handwriting.

“Sorry I couldn’t make it, hope this makes up for it! Don’t worry we’ll be together soon”

-DB

He even doodled a Sun wearing sunglasses with a heart beside it. Your own heart transforms into something light and buoyant. You worry about floating away at any moment. 

AJ of course freaks out over dinner when you tell him everything  As if summoned out from under a couch cushion himself, your non official-official boyfriend calls.

“Hello?” You answer with a warm grin and AJ eyes go wide.

“Is that him?” AJ mouths. You can only playfully shrug. 

“When I walked out of my shoot just now I knew LA looked and smelled brighter and it’s because you’re here.” Dieter says with so much awe that it overpowers his classic Dieter type comment. 

“Dork.” You smile so fond that AJ playfully makes a gagging face.

“When can I see you baby?” Dieter mutters in a sweet alluring tone that has something delicious crawling up your spine. 

You explain how you are at dinner right now.

“Dinner?! In your first night in LA and it’s without me?!” Dieter exclaims dramatically.

“It’s with Markiplier isn’t it? I knew it! Well tell him he’s only half attractive and that when I get there it’s over for his gamer ass!” He screeches.

“Goodbye!” You laugh wild and unbelievable. You cut him off quickly because goodness, what a beautiful hilarious force Dieter Bravo is.

“So I’m thinking I might get to enjoy a hotel room all to myself this trip huh?” AJ comments playful and with a teasing smirk.

“Maybe!” You reply weak but you know the truth grows in your bones. It only solidifies when you text him to meet you at the hotel.

You want to spend as much time as Dieter will allow. You want to see his apartment, want to find that sweet cat he always takes pictures of during his runs. You want to enjoy and let yourself soak in the bliss of just being with the one man who has been lighting up your life.

[Dieter: heading over, see you soon ghostie 💘]

The text electrifies you faster and brighter than any strike of lightning could. Then, as you sit on the couch waiting for his call, your phone rings and you almost jump out of your skin.

“Yeah honey?” You answer breathlessly. 

Quickly you open the door to rush to the elevator only to find Dieter Bravo standing there on the other side.

This moment has filled your daydreams more than you would ever admit. You wondered if this first meet would be some cinematic moment. You originally hoped this would have happened at the airport. You even pictured it a very sweet indie movie type way where the love interests finally meet at a place where so many paths cross and are brought together.

Yet here he is. 

The man who’s filled your heart with so much humor and affection that right now it swells to the point you wonder if you might burst. 

Dieter’s face falls in complete awe.

He hangs up the phone and before either of you can say anything he moves in quick steps. He swiftly sweeps you into his arms.

Dieter kisses as if you might disappear. His mouth is warm, tasting faintly of ice coffee and a shot of desperation. It makes you melt into him. You clutch his Los Angeles Lakers sweatshirt as you kiss him back with everything you have.

The months, the build up, it all led to this.

As fast as he kissed you, as fierce as he licked into your mouth, suddenly Dieter gently cradles your face. He pauses for a split second and then he is kissing you so softly, so light.

Dieter kisses your lips gently, once twice, before moving to kiss the corner of your lips, the top of your cheek. He finally kisses your forehead and the tenderness overwhelms your senses.

“You’re here.” Dieter breathes out.

“You’re here.” You choke back.

Dieter pulls away and grins a molten sleepy thing that touches his eyes. 

He is everything you have dreamed of and then more.

When he pulls you into his arms, simply to just hold you, you squeeze him back with all your might.

“No more screens separating us, ghostie.” Dieter coos affectionately into the top of your head.

No more screens indeed.

As if Dieter himself is a real ghost, he spirits you away from the hotel room. You think your laugh and his still hang in the hallways of the hotel.

“Okay, are you sure you want to do this?” You ask hesitant.

“Yes ghostie, this is the fifth time you’ve asked me. Should I remind you again that I’m the one who suggested this and got excited when you said yes?” Dieter scoffs as he settles into the seat beside yours.

Your heart hammers loud in your ears. You’ve never done this. Hell knowing you’re doing this with him feels even more terrifying. 

“Hey,” Suddenly his warm larger hand moves to squeeze yours.

Your eyes flicker to Dieter. He is the picture perfect example of ease and you know it’s not the edible he took because it already wore off after he picked you up from VidCon. 

“If you don’t feel comfortable then no worries.” He reassures you effortlessly. You can’t help it. You lean over and kiss him soft, appreciative. 

It’s been so easy to fall into place with him. 

He kisses you back more and more. You’re about to pull away until he breathes against your lips. 

“Move here, move in with me.” 

Your eyes snap open wide and you scramble away from him.

“Dieter WHAT?!”

“What!?” He cries back just as loud. “I thought that might take away the nerves and give you something else to think about and then the words just kinda flew out!”

Your damn chaotic but so sweet boyfriend…

You exhale feeling the old nerves now transfer into this new topic and you suppose Dieter’s plan did work in a way.

“Ghostie,” Dieter urges. “Talk to me please.”

A silence settles between you and him. 

“You want me to move in with you?” Your voice is small, barely able to process the words yourself. Your eyes flicker to Dieter. He stares at you with the cutest worried face. 

“Baby if I had it my way you’d quit your job, live here with me and live off my money until you get sick of me. You’d be here and do whatever the fuck you want for as long as you want.” His tone is soaked with sincerity as he answers without hesitation, without doubt. 

“I just wanna come home to you. Wanna see your moisturizer in my bathroom. I want to get into fights over which Pringle’s flavor is best,” Dieter continues so earnest. “It’s the shrimp cocktail flavor by the way.”

“It’s not.” You reply with a sniffle and Dieter smirks affectionately as his thumb strokes your hand.

“Just…think about it, okay?”

It’s a lot to process but hope swirls and swells in your chest. It speaks more than you can at this moment. All you can do is lean forward to kiss him fiercely and true.

Dieter kisses you back softer.

“Come on ghostie,” He mutters against your lips. “Don’t you have a stream to get to?”

“Guess this is why celebrities don’t date fans huh.” You mutter. 

Dieter busts out laughing at your comment and you join him feeling bright and limitless. He yanks you into his arms and kisses you multiple times now, all loud and relentless. For the finale he blows a raspberry on your cheek making you laugh even louder. 

If you are his ghost, you think he might be your halcyon. A strange beautifully colored bird that seems mythical but one that brings you so much sweet peace among the waves. 

“Alright come on let’s do this.”

You jump onto stream and warmly smile as Dieter sits besides you.

Warmly and as casually as you can you greet everyone while also explaining the elephant, or this case academy award winning actor, in the room.

Chat rapidly explodes. 

socallie: Dieter bravo?? DIETER BRAVO IS THAT YOU?

butterflybabe: holy shit is that actor dieter bravo?

floatify: Gio from Cliff Beasts I’m ur biggest fan  

soupjuicy: DIETER!!!! WOWOWOWOW I LOVE YOU!!!

svdbeau: Uh? HOW? EXPLAIN PLS??

gammagamma: This is the crossover I didn’t know I needed, this is my endgame

dreamfairy95: wait who is this guy

AJPlays: heeheeheee 

A j’s comment has you snickering. It’s enough to release the nerves and let you settle in. Unseen by chat or the camera Dieter rubs your knee fondly and a bigger smile tugs at your lips.

You explain that, since it’s VidCon, you thought to try something new and have a friend join. You don’t even have to see Dieter to know he’s smirking like the damn cat that caught the canary.

His agent and manager both loved the idea of him doing a surprise stream. 

“Apparently it would be a great way for me to ‘connect with the youth.’” He told you even using air quotes. “Like fuck, I get it. I’m old but hey I’m hip! I can hang!”

That was enough to have you agreeing in a fit of giggles. And after you accepted, then after he fucked your brains out, Dieter warmly told you this was a new fantasy he didn’t even know he needed. 

“Finally getting to have fun with my baby while playing games? That’s a dream come true ghostie.” 

You find now that maybe it’s a secret dream for you too. Finding someone who wants to sit beside you and cheer you on, who wants to enjoy this silly endeavor that’s become so important to you is a tender dream you want to cherish. 

Just thinking of it makes you reach down secretly to quickly squeeze his hand. 

“I came here to immortalize myself on the internet as one of the best Mario Kart players ever.” Dieter suddenly speaks and instead of it startling you, a surge of reassurance washes in.

You’re here with him. Who would have thought? Because instead of feeling overwhelmed at the thought of celebrity Dieter Bravo here, it’s simply your boyfriend, Dieter.

“Okay, let’s do this.” Dieter announces with competition and confidence beaming in his voice. “And yes my Mario Kart main is Birdo because I stan a queen in this household.”

He is a natural, effortlessly interacting with chat and laughing so easily with you. 

By the time you realize he’s beaten you twice on Bowser’s Castle, you find you never want to leave this moment. 

Because this moment? It is a bit ridiculous but wonderful. It reminds you of tasting a sour candy that makes your face pucker so tight but the taste is incredible and makes you only want more.

And you do, you want more moments with Dieter.

“Fuck YEAH! VICTORY! Eat my ASS BOWSER!”  

As Dieter screams excitedly, throwing his hands in the air and even doing the weirdest wiggle victory dance, you think you might be the real winner in this game.

#I’m gonna go play Stardew valley until my fingers bleed now ok that’s all bye!!!! #dieter bravo x reader #dieter 🤎

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

When Javi met Dieter

(Dieter x horror loving female)

Words: 3, 135

Summary: same story as this one but from a different point of view. Also read this story to get some background on Javi. Please read both before reading this one!

Warnings: lots of adorable fluffiness, people being cute and nerdy, talk of past medical procedures and post-partum issues. Reece is an original non-binary character created @cevans-is-classic by so please use they/them pronouns

Check out masterlist here

Javi was excited but also extremely nervous. Powerpuff was his first big production since his film that relaunched Nic Cage’s career. And this was his first big production with his own production company. All his small independent films had gotten critical acclaim but the bigger the production, the bigger the stakes.

The script, written by his partner Reece, was funny and heartwarming, the cast and crew were diverse and talented. Already there was outrage over some of the casting. Some made highly negative comments over casting a woman of colour to play Blossom. There were no complaints on casting a Japanese actress as Buttercup until they found out she would be dressed in baggy clothes being uncomfortable with her body and didn’t want to wear a skirt. They were the loudest complaints sadly, but he was shown the positive comments from children who were excited for the film and the film was for children and women of all ages. And he wanted his daughter to be proud of him. Ari was only two, so she was more impressed with Spiderman than her father. She was also more impressed with her godfather Nic Cage but that was understandable.

He was looking at the set now which felt like it came out of the animated show.

“Oh wow, it’s like Colour Out of Space!” he said to himself.

“It is,” he turned to the person who just said that. “Wait, you’ve seen that film?”

“Of course.”

You were shocked that you finally met someone who had seen the film. “And you liked it?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“I know some people thought it was too brightly coloured, but I think it added to the Eldritch horror.”

“It definitely added something new to the horror genre.”

“I love it when horror does something new!”

“My partner loves horror and has introduced me to some amazing films I never would have thought of watching.”

Filming was starting back up, so you had to go back to your duties. You gave your new friend your name before you left.

“I’m Javi,” he shook your hand. “Just Javi.”

*****

Reece was absolutely thankful their partner Javi agreed to set up an on-set daycare. Before their daughter Ari, they would be up all hours and living on very little sleep. With a toddler, they were still living on very little sleep, but they were now responsible for this little life, and they felt guilty leaving Ari with nannies all the time. This way made them feel less guilty as they could still see their child while working. The on-set daycare also opened up the opportunity to other workers in the film industry. One of them was Dieter Bravo as Professor Utonium. Javi was less enthused at the choice but agreed he was the best actor for the part.

As they made their way to the on-set daycare to drop off their daughter, Reece saw Dieter carrying his own little girl. Reece had yet to meet the actor in person, so they made their way over and introduced themselves.

Dieter shook their hand, “You’re the writer? I loved your script, my wife cried reading it so that means it was good.”

“Oh yeah, I heard the infamous Dieter Bravo had settled down and produced offspring, I just didn’t realise she was so stinking cute!”

“Hey!” a sleepy Ari mumbled.

“Don’t worry rascal, you’re still my favourite.”

After leaving their precious babies in the daycare, and after many kisses and cuddles, they both made their way to the sound stage.

“Hey,” said Dieter. “Do you know whose idea the on-set daycare was? I’d really like to thank them.”

“Uh, that was my idea.”

“It was? That’s awesome because my wife and I couldn’t work together much since the baby as one of us would always stay home to look after her. I really like being close to both of them. So thanks.”

“She’s working on the film?”

“Yeah, she’s doing the makeup for Mojo Jojo.”

“Oh yeah,” Reece tried not to smack their forehead. “I’m so glad she’s on board. She’s amazing.”

“Yeah she is.” He smiled warmly as they both reached the set. He saw you in the distance helping Jack Black put on his giant brain helmet.

“There she is,” Dieter proudly pointed you out. “My one true love.”

The lovestruck look on his face was one so familiar to Reece they couldn’t help but sigh at the adorableness of it all. They knew it was the loving gaze Javi gave to Nicolas Cage, but he now gave to them.

*****

The end of the first working day went well and Dieter was hoping Clara wasn’t missing them too much. As he walked in, he saw his little girl with two other little girls. You’d say they look like a little coven of witches, and he smiled at the thought.

Clara didn’t notice him as she was deep in conversation with the little girl with the same curly brown hair. But the other little girl with honey golden curls looked up and saw him.

“Papa?” she looked up at him with familiar eyes. “Tu barba?”

He ran a hand over his shaven face. “Lo siento patita. No soy tu papa.”

Reece came up next to him and looked at their daughter, “Hey rebel!”

Picking her up, Ari continued to look at Dieter with confusion. “Not papa?” she pointed at him.

“That’s right,” said Reece. “You remember Dieter from earlier.”

Clara finally realised her father was here and ran over to him, demanding to be picked up.

“Hey cupcake, did you make friends?” she nodded eagerly.

“Ari,” she pointed up then down, “Twin!”

“Twin?” Dieter asked. “So how do I know you’re really Clara?”

Both girls started to giggle. He looked down at Bianca. “Are you the real Clara?”

“I’m Bianca!”

She then saw her father approaching which solved the problem over who was which twin. Her father introduced himself before telling his daughter that her mother was waiting for them. Reece and Dieter both gave him an admirable look as he waved them goodbye.

“Hm,” mused Reece. “I wonder if he’s ever dressed as King T’challa?”

“That’s Marvel isn’t it?

Reece nodded, “Iron Man is my favourite and I’d hope this one would be the same but no. Who’s your favourite?”

“Spiderman!” exclaimed Ari.

“Oh,” mused Deiter. “No wonder you and Clara get along. She takes after her mum and likes spiders.”

*****

“Look Javi, all I’m saying is that if it didn’t have the same title, and if it wasn’t a remake, The Wicker Man 2006 would have been a passable film.”

“Passable?” Javi looked at his mug like a hurt puppy which would have worked on you if not for the fact that you dealt with that sort of eyes everyday with your husband and daughter.

“I’m just saying this as a fan of the original film.”

“The original is a masterpiece so nothing will ever hold a candle to it,” you nodded. “This was intended more as a dark comedy.”

“They should have made that more obvious.”

Javi sighed, “They should have. At least we get that memorable not-the-bees scene.”

“Um, they cut out that scene.”

“They what? Does Mr. Cage know?” He was momentarily stunned and changed the subject so he wouldn’t linger on it for too long. “I’m sorry, I never really got your answer before but, what is your favourite film?”

“The question really should be what is my favourite film at the moment?”

He hadn’t been asked such a profound question in a while, “Wow, no one has ever asked me that before.”

“I always thought just narrowing it down to just a handful makes it really hard to decide.”

“Exactly!”

You both paused in the nerdiness. After a small sigh, you asked. “I didn’t know you were the producer.”

Javi shrugged, “I don’t go around announcing myself.”

“I do. I have to because they always get my career wrong: I do special effects makeup, not just regular makeup. My husband always corrects people, he proudly shows me off.”

“He seems like a good man.”

“He is.”

*****

“Hey Reece, what is your favourite film at the moment?”

“Huh?”

“No one’s ever asked me that before. It’s always what are your favourite or top favourite and it’s always so hard to narrow it down.”

Reece just put their head on Javi’s shoulder, “Aw, I’m so glad you’ve made a friend who isn’t Nic Cage.”

*****

Javi had decided to pick up his daughter from the on-set daycare that day. He was too busy looking for Ari to notice another little girl ran up to him.

“Daddy?”

He looked down and saw a girl who almost looked like his daughter. “I’m sorry bonita,” he said kneeling down. “I’m not your father.”

“Papa!” He was welcomed his daughter with open arms while the other little girl gave him as big a death stare as a two-year-old could.

He saw you enter the daycare and you found Clara giving her biggest death glare. She managed to break her glaring when you picked her up. She pointed at the man, “Not daddy?”

“That’s right, it’s not daddy. He looks nothing like him.”

But Clara went back to her evil glaring. The man who looked like her father but was not her father could only result in one conclusion.

“Evil daddy.”

“Why do you think he’s evil? He’s a very nice man.”

“I’m sorry,” you said to him. “Usually her dad picks her up, so she thinks you’re her dad. But he had to shave his beard and she must be missing it and saw yours so...” you shrugged.

“Oh no, that’s fine,” he turned to the girl in his arms. “Is this your friend?”

She nodded, “Spider.”

He knew Ari had this funny way of remembering her new friends and called them by their favourite bugs. Bianca was named Bee.

You properly introduced your daughter, “This is Clara.”

*****

“I met Ari’s friend today,” Javi told Reece after their day of filming.

“Oh, she’s a cutie, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, although she kept calling me evil for some reason.”

“Were you doing your Nic Cage impression?”

“No,” he got a hard glare. “I wasn’t. Not even subconsciously.”

*****

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude your reading, but I couldn’t help but admire your book.”

Javi always loved books about films, he read them more than actual books. You lifted up the book to show the full cover: Golem, Caligari, Nosferatu; A Chronicle of German Film Fantasy.

“My husband got it for me because he knew I’d love it. And I do.”

“So you’ve seen The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari?” he asked.

“Oh yes. Old films just have a certain quality to them modern films can’t replicate.”

“I completely agree. Is it one of your favourite films at the moment?”

“It is but I really like Nosferatu, mainly because it’s an early depiction of vampires. Oh, do you know the film Shadow of the Vampire?”

“Of course, a masterpiece to honour its original film,” you nodded in agreement. “Nicolas Cage produced that film.”

“He did?”

“Yes, he grew up with all those silent films.”

“How did I not notice?”

*****

“We ended up having this amazing discussion about German silent films.”

“Wow, I’m so happy you found someone other than your boyfriend who’ seen Caligari.”

Javi either didn’t notice the quip or chose to ignore it. “She must be married to someone amazing.”

“Yeah, Dieter is a pretty nice guy.”

“Yes and, wait who?”

“Dieter Bravo,” said Reece.

“What do you mean Dieter Bravo?” he asked more sternly.

“I mean Dieter Bravo is her husband.”

“You’re telling me that smart sophisticated woman is married to that…” he couldn’t think of an appropriate word, “…man?”

Sometime in the middle of the night, Javi bolted upright in bed.

“Oh Dios Mio!” he exclaimed; startling Reece awake in the process.

“Javi,” they grumbled. “There had better be a fire or I’m setting you on fire.”

“Dieter Bravo has offspring!”

“Yes he has offspring. You’ve met the offspring.”

“I can’t believe that adorable little girl is the offspring of…” again he couldn’t find the appropriate word, “…him!”

“Were you expecting horns? Or a forked tongue?”

*****

Reece wandered into the on-set daycare as usual to pick up Ari and noticed you following after.

They held out their hand to you, “Hi, I’m Reece. I’ve made friends with your husband Dieter. Also, you’ve made friends with my partner Javi.”

“Oh hi!” You shook hands and introduced yourself. “Is it weird to say I loved your script?”

“No, not at all.”

“I teared up the way I would a Mike Flanagan series.”

“I still cry over Bly Manor.”

You would have had a fangirl moment with the screenwriter, but you were both interrupted by two little girls running up to you.

“Noma!” Ari did her usual upsie hands.

Juggling a boisterous toddler in their hands, Reece explained, “I’m non-binary so Noma is an alternative to mum or dad.”

“Oh, so you prefer they/them pronouns?” Reece raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Dieter’s assistant is the same.”

They were rather impressed at the casual acceptance, “Hey, do you want to go get a coffee?”

“No coffee!” came the cry from Ari.

“Oh, that’s right. I need to seriously cut back on the coffee. I was practically living off it, getting the script done.”

“Are you into tea? I know a place that does great chai,” you suggested. “And they make a really good chocolate milk.”

Both girls immediately perked up.

“Should have led with that.”

The café was cosy and quaint with comfortable benches. After ordering masala chai, chocolate milk and cookies for the girls, you both settled in.

“So how did you and Javi meet?”

“Oh, I was hired to do rewrites for What’s It About and that’s how we met.”

“I loved that film!”

“I’m proud of that one. How did you meet Dieter?”

“We met while doing Sap of Justice.”

“Wait, you did the makeup for it?” you nodded. “Oh, that part where his skin came off and the blood was like tree sap? I loved that!”

“Are people still talking about that?”

“Well, it was awesome!”

You both looked over at Clara and Ari having so much fun being in a new play area.

“I love that they’ve made friends,” you hummed in agreement. “They seem close in age. Ari’s birthday is the 21st of September, when is Clara’s?”

“Halloween.”

“Her birthday is Halloween?” you nodded. “Was that planned?”

“Oh no, Clara wasn’t planned at all. All we knew was that she’d be due mid-November, but I guess she loves Halloween as much as me so,” you flourished your hands in a shrug.

“Ari wasn’t planned either. But if we were planning, Javi would have tried to plan the conception, so she’d be born around Nic Cage’s birthday as close as possible.”

“Seriously?”

“You have no idea how much he loves the man.”

“So if you had another child would he try to do that?”

“Oh, I can’t have any more children.”

“I’m sorry.”

They put a reassuring hand on you, “Don’t worry about it hon, you didn’t know. Ari was an emergency c-section and that’s when doctors found a lump,” you gasped. “The option was either go through months of chemo and miss out on so much of my baby’s life or just have all the organs removed and only miss a little bit. So, I’m happy we had Ari when we did. Would you want more children?”

“I love Clara to bits, but I hated being pregnant,” Reece sighed in sympathy. “I was sick for most of it, and I didn’t cope well afterwards. Honestly if I was by myself, I wouldn’t have survived it. Dieter was one hundred percent there for me and he won’t admit it but he’s an amazing father and I’ve fallen more in love with him.”

You both just sat there in a comfortable silence until refreshments arrived. The girls were called back from their playing. Clara wanted to sit on your lap, so you moved her there and she kissed your cheek.

“She’s a cuddler, like her father,” you explained to Reece.

“Daddy huggy!”

“Yes he is!” you kissed her pudgy little cheek.

*****

“Oh, I met your new best friend today!” Reece informed Javi. “She’s adorable! I can see why Dieter loves her.” They gritted their teeth as that name was accidentally said out loud and Javi groaned in annoyance.

“The whole family is adorable,” Reece continued. “We should adopt them!’

“We are not adopting a family. Especially if that includes Dieter Bravo.”

“Javi, why the animosity? Did he say something rude to you on set?”

“No,” Javi shifted. “He’s never said anything to me. We’ve never talked.”

“What the hell? How can you say you know him when you’ve never talked to him?” Reece held Javi’s face, “The Dieter I know is a sweetheart; he’s mad about his wife and he adores his little girl. He’s a genuine good guy. He’s not going to play Mr. Nice Guy and then stab you in the back like-”

“That prick Jagar Aldritch.”

“Still hung up on that?”

“Wouldn’t you be? He ruined my film.”

“And he tried to flirt with me.”

“What? Why haven’t you told me this before?”

“It was just the once. I think my pronouns confused him,” they changed the subject. “Anyways, you should just talk to him. Who knows, it might be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

*****

Javi was happy to see you after the weekend. He promised Reece he’d make an effort with Dieter and would at least talk to him. If it came about naturally, he wasn’t going to walk up to him because it might seem too straightforward.

He hated to admit it, but he liked the actor’s work ethic; he’d always be on time and too the role seriously enough without going method. The scene where Jack Black was playing on a grand piano and Dieter was lying supine across it while singing the big musical number Sugar and Spice: A Bitter Taste was insanely hilarious and anyone else wouldn’t have pulled it off as well.

Javi praised the performance while you were once again deep in conversation. You saw Dieter approaching the two of you and finally Javi had to talk to the actor.

“Oh, hey Dieter. Have you met the producer?”

He held out his hand, Dieter reluctantly took it.

“Hi, I’m Javi Gutierrez.”

Dieter mumbled his name.

“So what’s your favourite Nic Cage film?” Dieter raised an eyebrow in question. “Well I keep having interesting conversations with your wife over several of Mr. Cage’s films so I assumed…”

“Oh, I don’t like Nic Cage.”

This was not going to be the start of a beautiful friendship.

Lovingly tagging @boliv-jenta @simpingcowboy @ellenmunn @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @chaithetics @myloveistoolittle @glshmbl @gswizzsstuff @cupcakehp @nicolethered @blueeyesatnight

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #dieter x honey cakes #love of horror fanfic #love of horror universe #love of horror #dieter bravo #dieter x reader #the bubble netflix #the bubble #javi g #javier gutierrez