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auteurdelabre · 3 days

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A Little Sun part 6 Dieter!Bravo x f!Reader

rating: 18+ words: 8.4k pairings: Dieter x f!Reader

tags: pregnancy, details of body changing with pregnancy, insecurity, mention of family death, mutual pining, idiots in love, soft dieter, fluff, lurve, angst, miscommunication trope, female masturbation, male masturbation, dirty talk (thoughts). summary: You move in with Dieter after the fight with your mom and things get... complicated. a/n: Y'all this thing has turned into such a fuckin' beast. Remember when I wanted it to be a one shot? Anyway, we're nearing the end with these two idiots in love but I think this one ends pretty damn sweet.

Also I think I'm in love with Dieter Bravo?

SERIES MASTERLIST

REBLOGS, COMMENTS, ENGAGEMENT ARE WHAT KEEP US FIC WRITERS GOING. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS.

Dieter doesn't even let you step fully into his home before he's got you in his arms, wrapping you in his warm embrace. Your suitcases clatter to the floor as you cling to him, burying your face in his neck and fighting back tears.

"You can stay as long as you want," Dieter promises you as one hand cups the back of your head. "Stay forever."

You give a watery chuckle into his shoulder, not quite ready to let go of him. You only break apart when the smell of European cigarettes wafts into the room.

You swipe at your damp eyes while Dieter turns to greet the tiny woman with a shock of white curls. She wears an oversized green t-shirt and loose khaki pants. She shuffles from place to place in her oversized moccasins.

"You remember Magda, right?"

"I think we've met a few times," you say extending your hand. The old woman gives you a look before shuffling over and placing her hand on your belly. You're in too much shock to pull back.

"A healthy boy," she tells you through a thick Eastern European accent. You and Dieter exchange looks of surprise.

"Uh yeah," you peer down at her shriveled frame, "How did you know that it was a boy?"

"I can tell."

She says it with a sage nod and then with that revelation she shuffles off to the kitchen, the feather duster still firmly lodged under her bony arm.

"She's the best," Dieter says says fondly before turning back to you with a look of expectancy. "Lemme show you where you're staying."

He takes both of your suitcase handles and jerks head to the left indicating you should follow.

You follow him out into his garden beside the pool. A place that you've never really visited much before. Most of your business has been conducted inside in his kitchen or in his office. You've heard about his guest house, how he had so many decorators come in over the years.

When you enter into it now, you're surprised at just how normal it seems. You were waiting for whips and chains and other strange memorabilia to line the walls. But instead it looks like something out of a Martha Stewart magazine. Crisp White's and Blue wainscotting. Overstuffed chairs and couches surround the coffee table from the photo he sent you. It's strangely tasteful.

It doesn't suit him at all.

Dieter must notice your surprise because he smirks before he rolls your suitcases towards the kitchen bar.

"Remember that Danish woman I dated for a couple months right after you started working for me?"

"Yeah, Lyda something.'

"Right. She wanted to start a career as an interior designer. I let her run the show in this place. Not really my taste."

"Not really mine either," You admit looking around the space. "It is beautifully done but I prefer the place we stayed in Ireland, like, that aesthetic. Old wood and big windows."

"I like that too," Dieter agrees. He sees you yawn and immediately feels guilty for keeping You up after such an emotional day.

"I'm going to have Petra whip you up something for dinner."

Petra is Dieter's chef who stocks his fridge with high end

"Dieter you don't-"

"You gotta take care of you and little Bravo remember?"

Dieter feels something in his chest bloom when instead of rolling your eyes you smile at him, nodding.

"Thanks Dieter."

You wake up the next morning in the plush duvet with your arms stretched above your head before rolling an absent hand down your swollen belly.

"Morning little boy," you whisper to the tiny being there beneath your fingertips. You give a groan as you gently roll yourself off the bed sliding into your slippers and pulling on your robe. Despite your devastation of what happened with your mother, waking up in this beautiful space on this gorgeously sunny day has you feeling hopeful.

This feeling is dampened slightly when you glance at your phone, looking to the calendar and seeing a date in the coming week starred. A date you have been dreading for months. Your birthday. The first one of yours since your father passed. Without your mom around this seems especially painful to consider. You close your phone, not wanting to think about it.

You spot a tall figure out the window and feel your cheeks flush. Something has shifted since Ireland. Something that terrifies you. The whisper of feelings that you're having a hard time repressing when you think of how he supports you.

But you push it from your mind. Your worlds don't match up. You’re serious, you take life seriously, you want to dedicate yourself to science. Dieter wants to fuck and party and grab life by the balls.

Plus he's with Mia and she makes him happy.

Dieter saunters across the backyard, narrowly missing the pool as he heads to the guest house. He's wearing an old t-shirt and sweatpants under tattered robe, his eyes hidden behind his sunshades. He's carrying a tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a smoothie in the other.

"Dieter it’s ten in the morning," you say as you open the sliding door to greet him.

"I'm still on Ireland time," he says giving you a waggle of his brows before setting the pale

pink smoothie down on the kitchen counter. "Breakfast when you're ready for it."

He sees you eyeing the smoothie warily and gives a deep rumbling chuckle.

"Petra made this one so you're safe. You like strawberries right?"

You take a tentative sip, before giving a soft moan of approval and drinking down the rest.

He rocks back on his heels a moment and despite the dark of his glasses, you can feel his gaze lingering on you.

"So... What're you up to today, Bravo?"

"You mean you don't know?"

"I'm officially no longer part of team Bravo remember?" You remind him with a sad chuckle as you place the empty glass back on the counter. "Diane cut my access to work emails and calendars."

"Shit that's right, I forgot." He looks at you with such a guilty expression. "I'm sorry."

"S'okay. I'm looking at this like a real non working vacation," you tell him honestly pointing out the window. "I figure you have a pool, there's a chef, a housekeeper, I brought books, what more could I ask for?"

"Plus you have a recreation staff," Dieter grins, taking you by the hand and twirling you gently towards him. "Dance lessons by the pool, movie nights, anything the customer wants."

"Hmmm an end to global warming?"

"Sorry that's only with the premium package."

You let out a loud laugh as Dieter joins you, spinning you into a hug. His mouth is only inches from yours and when the two of you realize this your mutual laughter ebbs.

Dieter wants nothing more than to press his mouth to yours, to taste you, to fuck you here in his home. But he knows it's not what you want. You don't want that from Dieter. You want somewhere safe to stay and he'll provide that to you.

Besides there is someone who does want his affection, his touch: Mia.

You swallow, your body poised and mouth slowly tilting towards Dieter before he seems to realize himself. He slowly extricates his arms from around you before reaching into his robe pocket, clearing his throat.

"Here's the key," Dieter tells you, holding it out to you. You take it, looking at the tiny Jameson keychain on it. The one that matches the one Dieter got you in Ireland that you wear on your own keychain. You smile at the sight of it before looking puzzled.

"A key?"

"For the guest house."

"I don't need to lock it," you chide even as you take it from him and toss it into your purse. "It's just you and me here right?"

"Yeah," Dieter hides the broad of his grin behind his whiskey glass. "Just you and me."

For the next several days Dieter tries to give you as much space as possible. He brings you a smoothie every morning citing that Magda is too busy. In the evenings he texts you to invite you over to the big house for dinner. Sometimes you join him, sometimes you’re just too tired.

You always go back to the guest house feeling a little bit down. You didn’t realize you missed sleeping in the same house, how Ireland made it almost feel like living together. Dieter’s place is so large it’s like you’re in separate neighborhoods.

Dinners are starting to be hard as well. Knowing you’ll be leaving to go back to the empty guest room. It’s a luxury, that’s for certain with its tall ceilings and plush bed. But it feels quiet without Dieter’s music or loud laughter.

And so you can admit to yourself that every morning he comes by with the pink smoothie and a big grin, your heart leaps a little bit. Like now, seeing him rushing over more frenzied than usual. He smiles, pushing the drink into your hand hurriedly.

“Here. Drink fast, I finished the nursery and want you to come look.”

“When did you have time to do the nursery?” You ask amazed as you follow him to the main house, smoothie almost drained by the time you reach his place.

“I’ve been in touch with this guy Diora from Albania over email since Ireland. He’s all the rage, super hard to get but he was really excited about trying his hand at a nursery. He just finished Criss Angel’s man cave and James Franco’s bedroom.”

Dieter sweeps a hand to the middle of your back, guiding you down the hall. When he opens the door with a flourish it takes everything in you not to gasp in horror. Your hand still rises to your mouth, though when you step into the room.

It looks like a sex dungeon.

Black and white striped walls, a beautifully ornate crib painted a ghastly red.

"Contrasting colors are good for baby’s retinas," Dieter says confidently. "I read it somewhere."

It takes you a few moments of staring at everything before you can speak.

"You have whips hung on the walls."

"Those are vintage skipping ropes," Dieter tells you aghast at your misunderstanding. You turn slowly, taking everything in. Finally you shake your head slowly.

"Dieter, this is totally inappropriate for a nursery," you say. "What baby would be happy here?"

Dieter takes a moment to glance around the space, his previous elation dimming with every word from you.

"This is what Diora suggested. He's the hottest designer right now."

"Of millionaire bachelor pads," you say as you look at a particularly ugly piece of metal hanging from the ceiling. "Not for a baby’s room."

"I'm not gonna have some tacky nursery with stuffed bears and shit,” Dieter defends. “I can't do it. Anyone who comes over and sees that'll think I've lost my edge."

The thought of being a father is immensely appealing to Dieter. The thought of being a loser Dad is not.

“Mia said it was cool,” Dieter shoots out. “I sent her photos.”

Mia is also in her early twenties, you want to snap. But you hold your tongue, trying to see the upsides to this nursery. Unfortunately you can see none. Everything is a safety hazard.

Dieter paces around the room, suddenly sour at the whole thing. He thought you’d be excited to see where the baby will be. Instead you’ve come in with your judgments and frowning face.

"Please let me... Dieter let me help you with this," you almost beg. "I just.... I know he's not mine but I can't stand the thought of him being in this... Baby prison."

I know he's not mine.

This hurts Dieter to hear it. He knows that you face no interest in being in this baby's life or his the week after you've given birth. But he can admit he's fooled himself with you being here.

But this? This is a project the two of you can work on. A potential to have more reason to have you in the house, not in that fucking guest house. He can only think of so many reasons to knock on your door apart from smoothies.

"Okay, sure."

“Okay,” you say looking relieved. “How about a pale blue or green? Then we can get a nice crib and some rugs and gauzy curtains.”

“That’s so boring.”

“And safe,” you emphasize. “You have to think of his safety, Dieter.”

Dieter pouts slightly in thought, trying to see the nursery through your eyes. He has to concede that perhaps this is a bit much for a newborn.

"Actually, you know what would look really beautiful on this far wall here?" You muse, looking at the space. "That painting you bought me for my birthday."

You think of the artwork hanging in your bedroom. The one of the woman looking out over the ocean, her hair whipping in the sea air. It’s the one thing you didn’t bring from home that you regret. There was something about that painting that made you feel relaxed.

"I didn't buy you that," Dieter says with a furrowed brow.

Your stomach sinks at this admission from Dieter and you wish you could take back everything. The intimacy of the moment, the vulnerability. He never even fucking bought the thing himself. Diane probably did and here you are pouring your heart out about it.

"Oh, uh-Or Diane or whoever-"

"I painted it for you."

All the animosity that had been brewing behind your sternum drains from you. A smile blooms immediately, your body tingling as you roll onto your side to fully face him.

"You did?"

"Yeah," Dieter is smirking at you from the shadows. "I love painting. You think I'd buy you a fucking painting?"

“I think I just assumed that you got Diane or whoever to ship it to me."

"Maybe if you were someone else," Dieter muses, his gaze wandering around the nursery. "Someone who doesn't do everything for me." He falls silent a moment. "You really thought I bought it?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't you think it was weird that the girl in the painting was you?"

Now you're stunned and it must show on your face because Dieter is chuckling softly now.

"You've had it hanging up your room for how long? Did you even look at it?"

"Of course I did, I do," you say in a rush, feeling embarrassed. You look at it every night you’re in your bedroom. "I just ... I never thought..."

"What?"

"I never thought you saw me."

Dieter blinks back at you, his dark eyes searching your face.

"I just mean you never even said thank you before this whole baby thing," you explain. "I've worked for you for a while and you kinda just expected I'd be at your beck and call all hours of the day and night, even on my days off."

"I'm sorry," Dieter whispers. "That was shitty of me."

"Why do you do it?

“I went through so many assistants I just assumed you wouldn’t be sticking around long.” Dieter looks ashamed as he says it out loud. “But then the longer you stayed the more I depended on you. I think… After a while I think it just felt weird to not message you.”

You both lapse into a thoughtful silence.

“You’ll manage just fine without me when I leave,” you tell him, needing him to know. “And if you’re ever feeling really lost and like you just need to talk to someone, you can always call me. Not as an employee, but as a friend.”

“Really? We’re friends?”

“Yeah,” you nod, heart hammering. “Friends.”

Dieter wakes up hard every morning for the next two weeks. He doesn't try to; he actively tries to think of other things before he goes to sleep. He watches documentaries, he reads art books, he meditates. He tries to push you from his thoughts so he can wake up normal.

But he always wakes up aching with the head of his cock weeping, flickering remnants of his dreams still floating around his subconscious. And those dreams are always of you.

Today he wakes up with the memory of his dream still lingering. You on your knees, his cock in your mouth and your eyes heavy lidded. As he shifts in bed Dieter realizes his boxers are sticky with previous release. A fucking nocturnal emission? How old is he?

And what's worse is that he's still fucking hard. Throbbing, actually He groans low in his throat and tries to ignore it.

You're here at his home. You're practically living with him. You're only a few steps from his back door. You're so close and yet so frustratingly far from him. He misses being in the same home as you, like the rental in Ireland. He misses the feeling of coming home after a long day on set and seeing your sweet face on the couch.

He wants that again.

Dieter rolls onto his belly to try and squash his current erection against the mattress. But that doesn't help, it just gives a delicious friction. He shifts again experimentally, groaning at the shiver that travels from the base of his spine to the tip. In his sleepy arousal he imagines that it's not the mattress but you that he's fucking.

"You like that?" Dieter murmurs, eyes closed as he rocks against his bed. "Like feeling me like that, baby?"

He pushes his hips into the bed, starting to rut when the pleasure increases.

You're so big, Dieter.

And suddenly he's thrusting against it, picturing your body writhing under him.

Need it, Dieter. Fuck me harder.

"Yes," Dieter groans into his pillow, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress. He thrusts furiously into the soft fabric of the bed, hips bouncing up and down on the mattress.

Need your big cock, daddy, your dream self moans. Need it deep.

"Fuck yes, baby. Take Daddy's cock. Take it and-"

His phone chirrups loudly on the table next to him, breaking him from the immersive fantasy.

A name and photo flash up on the screen.

Mia.

Immediately he feels guilty. Here he is humping his mattress to thoughts of you as his gorgeous, talented, funny, sexy girlfriend is calling.

He breathes rapidly through his nose, slowing his grinding movements. He rolls over in the bed, reaching for the phone.

"Hey babe," Dieter says, panting as he answers. He flips onto his back, willing his cock to go down.

"You okay? You sound like you've been exercising and I know that can't be true."

Dieter barks a laugh at that. He's about to reply when he hears a splash outside his window. Mia starts chatting in his ear but he's completely taken with the view outside his window.

You're in a bikini, gliding through the clear water of his pool. Dieter feels his mouth run dry at the sight, especially when you roll over onto your back, your belly protruding from the water like a beacon. Your hair dances around your head, your eyes closed, face tilted towards the sun. You have the sweetest little smile on your face.

You're so fucking beautiful.

"Dee? You there?"

"Huh? Yeah, sorry babe what?"

"I wanted to know how you're getting on? I've been staying off socials for the last little bit of the shoot trying to stay focused. I finally saw the photos from the airport. How is the poor thing holding up?"

"Stressed, but better."

"She must be happy to be at home away from all that madness."

Dieter feels his stomach clench. He knows he has to be honest with Mia, she's his girlfriend, she deserves to know. And yet he hesitates because he knows how it sounds.

"She's staying in my guest house, actually," Dieter offers in what he hopes is a nonchalant voice.

The warmth from Mia's voice is immediately gone.

"Pardon me?"

"She's, uh, in my guest house for the time being," Dieter adds, closing his eyes and bracing himself.

Mia shuffles on the other end before her voice reaches out to him confused.

"I thought you wanted a relationship with me, Dieter. Otherwise why did your agent go to so much trouble to confirm it? To do a splashy roll-out?"

"I do want it."

"But you have the employee you got pregnant living with you?"

"Not with me. In the guest house."

"This is weird, Dee."

He hears the concern in her voice and he feels his stomach drop. He doesn't want to lose Mia.

"Her mom kicked her out," Dieter explains quickly. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Pay for a hotel?"

The answer is so clear, so obvious. Why didn't he offer a hotel? He has the money. Why had it been so important for him to have you here?

Because then he could see you every day.

The answer is immediate but he won't admit it. Not now.

"The paps have been relentless," Dieter says finally. "They'll camp out outside of wherever I put her up. Not like here where I know she's safe away from the public eye."

"But-"

"She's not like us, Mia," Dieter insists. "She doesn't want fame and all that shit. She's just a regular person who's pregnant and alone. Her mom kicked her out, she's got no one else."

He can almost hear Mia softening over the phone.

"It's just hard, Dee," she says finally. "Especially when I haven't seen you in weeks."

Dieter feels a flutter of panic at how sad she sounds. He wants to make it up to her and has a great idea of how.

"Prague!"

Dieter bursts out with this, wincing when he hears how loud he is.

"Sorry, what?"

"What do you think about Prague?" Dieter corrects himself, rubbing nervously at his beard. "You're flying to LA next week for our magazine spread, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you've always wanted to go to Prague, right?"

"Yes."

"So let's do it. After the shoot let's get away from everyone and everything for a few weeks just us two."

"You'd really want to do that?"

"Of course."

He hears Mia weighing the choice on the other end of the line. He holds his breath until he can almost hear her smile.

"Okay Dee, let's do it."

“Amazing,” Dieter says grinning. “I’ll get Diane to send you the details. See you next week.”

He hangs up quickly, undressing and pulling on his swim trunks.

You’re floating on your back, sunglasses on your face, your body most submerged in the cool water. You hear the sound of a door opening and crack one eye open to see Dieter approaching.

Dieter never uses his pool. He got the house on a whim and didn’t even notice it had a pool until he officially moved in. But right now seeing your tits overflowing out of your bikini cups has him so utterly thankful to his former self.

He shrugs off his robe, sliding into the chilly water with an exaggerated brrrr. He swims over to you, sunglasses perched on the end of his nose.

“Looked so refreshing I had to join.”

“It’s so nice,” you sigh, your arms and legs out as you soak up the sun and enjoy the lack of strain on your lower back. “I never want to get out.”

Dieter paddles near you for a moment, wanting to remember this moment before he recalls his conversation with Mia.

“Well you’ll have the place to yourself the next couple of weeks.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Mia and I are going to Prague like you suggested.”

“That’s so great," you say with a tightness in your voice. “When do you leave?”

“Next Thursday.”

Next Thursday.

Dieter stars to drone on about how Mia has all these restaurants and museums she wants to go to but all you can think of is that you’ll be alone on your birthday. The first one since your father passed. No mother to turn to. Nothing. You’ll be completely alone.

A sudden flutter begins in your abdomen and you give an absent smile, hand slowly sliding over your stomach.

Well, not completely alone.

From where you stand in your guest house kitchen you can see into the main house. Specifically into the dining room. At night when the landscape is dark and the lights are on inside you can see it very clearly.

Like tonight.

You can see him pacing inside the house, his tall frame gesticulating wildly. He's obviously going over some lines. He asked you to have dinner and run through them but you’d texted back some feeble excuse.

The truth is you need to separate yourself as much as possible from Dieter because you’re convinced that what you’re starting to feel can’t be explained away by hormones. This desire to be with him.

But he’s leaving with Mia in a few short days on some whirlwind romantic escape. You even showed him the best way to pack his fucking suitcase! The sight of a box of condoms at the bottom of it hidden by the toiletries bag made your throat tighten.

Despite this your eyes sail over to Dieter’s house again, watching him make a note on his script before running through the lines. He looks so sexy when he does it, totally lost in the moment. It reminds you of the character he played in Ireland.

Fuck, that insatiable need is coursing through your body again. The hormones kicking into overdrive as you feel your thighs press together at the memory of Dieter and that regency costume. He looked so good in it. You can almost hear his husky voice in your ear.

It's okay if you want it, baby. Lemme give it to you.

You throw yourself into your plush bed, your hands sliding down under your panties and working frantically against your straining clit.

Uh huh. Just like that. Gotta come on my fingers before you get this cock.

You throw your head back, thighs squeezing as you rut against your fingers. This phantom Dieter plays in your mind, his husky voice full of dark, delicious promise.

Gonna fuck such pretty sounds out of you.

"Dieter," you groan, unable to help yourself. It's pathetic how quickly and easily your orgasm overtakes you. It leaves you shuddering and whimpering, rutting into your fingers and then finally collapsing back as you stare at the ceiling.

What the fuck are you doing?

Despite everything Dieter is still your boss in some ways. He’s still the man paying you to have a child. Yes, he’s sort of a friend, but at the end of the day he still holds some authority over you.

You wish that last thought didn’t turn you on so much.

You’re still groaning when you hear the light tap of knuckles on glass and you jerk up in your bed, face flushed.

You wipe your damp hand on the sheets before slowly stumbling out of the bedroom. Dieter is standing there at the glass door, giving you a stiff wave. You move quickly, tugging the door open. The sound of cicadas and LA night traffic punctuate the formerly peaceful space.

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m really sorry to come over here so late but Magda just told me when she was cleaning this place this afternoon she saw a roach.”

“What?”

Immediately you’re moving towards him, glancing behind you in disgust. Your eyes sweep the floor and counters for any trace. Strange, you haven’t noticed anything and this place is kept perfectly clean.

“Yeah,” Dieter nods, looking tense. “So I gotta get this place fumigated ASAP.”

“Of course.”

“But the fumes are bad for the baby so you’ll have to move your stuff into the main house until it’s finished.”

“For how long do you think?”

“Dunno,” Dieter shrugs, motioning to the room airily. “I was gonna call a guy in the morning to get some quotes. Might be a couple weeks before they can get someone out here.”

A couple weeks? Dieter has enough money to have the place fumigated tonight if he really wanted to. You gaze up at Dieter about to say as such when you see the searching nature of his eyes and suddenly the shoe drops.

There’s no roach.

You note the tense way he rubs his fingers together, the way his brows rise and eyes go owlish the longer you stare at him.

“I’m terrified of roaches,” you finally tell him as you start to throw your stuff into your suitcases. “Can I move my stuff in tonight?”

“Would be the safest,” Dieter nods exaggeratedly helping you to pack. It takes no time at all before he’s helping you carry the suitcases across the yard and into his home.

The guest room is just as nice as the guest house with tall ceilings but slightly less homey. Dieter prefers marble floors and gold accents. Things he was taught as a child meant rich. The bed is lovely, but minimalist. You are however very impressed with the large bathtub and even bigger rain forest shower. You put your suitcases to the side, feeling Dieter watch you from the doorway.

“It’s still early you wanna watch a doc or something?”

You bite back the delighted smile that threatens to bleed over your features before you turn to face him.

“Sure.”

“Okay, you got your passport, the tickets are on your phone, your bags are packed,” the young man’s reedy voice lists off things from his checklist as the three of you stand in the kitchen the following week. Dieter is sitting on one of the stools dressed nicely and looking nervously from the paper to you, completely ignoring Rupert.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

“Dieter.”

“What if you go into labor?”

“Almost three months early?” you force a laugh from where you stand by the fridge. “Then we have bigger issues than you not being here. Now c’mon. Mia’ll be here any second.”

Today is the photo spread for the movie Mia and Dieter starred in. It’ll run late so the lovebirds have decided on spending the night in a fancy hotel before shuttling off to Prague the next day. Dieter is always nervous about trips away but he realizes this is especially daunting since he’ll have no PA with him.

Diane has sent him someone new over during the week. A young man with bloodshot eyes and a nervous countenance named Robert or Roger. Dieter can’t remember. All he knows is that the kid does his job decently but he isn’t you.

But he promised himself that he would plan this trip for he and Mia. He researched the restaurants and hotels with her and booked it all. He got them the best seats in the plane and the nicest suite in the hotel.

But all he can think is that he’s going to be away from you for two weeks. Away from his son nestled safely in your body.

“I made a new tape for him,” Dieter says, suddenly snapping. He reaches into his pocket and slides the tape towards you. “Make sure he listens.”

“Yes, yes,” you say rolling your eyes.

The doorbell rings and Rupert immediately goes to answer it leaving you and Dieter alone. He watches you peering into the fridge trying to find something to satisfy your current craving of salty vanilla pudding.

“I don’t want to leave you.”

His voice is a quiet hum. Your mouth tries to form the words but all you can think of is Dieters warm eyes, his hands caressing your belly, the sweet timbre of his voice when he reads to you when you can’t sleep.

“I’m going to be okay,” you promise him softly as you glance over to him. “Now go say hello to your girlfriend.”

Dieter nods resolutely before bolting around the corner to see Mia. You hear his excited greeting and you try not to feel upset. Instead you dig around in the cupboard for something salty. You hear your name being called and you turn to see Dieter and Mia entering the room.

Mia’s eyes go round with shock at seeing you waddle towards her. You give a bright smile, despite the pang that goes through you at the sight of them hand-in-hand.

"Oh wow," Mia says when you waddle into the room holding a bag of chips.

"Weird right?"

"A little," she laughs. You join in, knowing how strange this entire scenario is. You feel like a baby hippo meanwhile Mia looks like she just stepped off the runway.

“So nice to see you,” she says, giving you an awkward hug as she avoids the bump. “I brought a little something for the baby,” she hands a wrapped gift to Dieter, “and one for you.”

Dieter unwraps the package, bringing out a first edition copy of Winnie the Pooh. Your eyes widen at the sight. That must have cost her a fortune.

“Thanks babe,” Dieter says warmly, kissing her. You look away, unwilling to watch and unwrap your gift from Mia which turns out to be a delicate crystal flower vase. Arguably one of the most useless things on the planet since you hate flowers. Dieter knows this and you think you catch a curl of amusement in his face.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you falter.

“I know,” she says sweetly. “I just saw it and thought of you.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say, careful not to exchange amused looks with Dieter across the room. You shoot a soft smile at Mia. “Thank you so much. I’ll go pop it in my room so it doesn’t get broken. Magda tends to be a little chaotic when she cleans.”

You turn, about to go down the hallway to the bedroom when you feel something like tension in the room. You don't know why you pause but you do.

"I thought you were staying in the guest house?" She asks you but her eyes are scanning Dieter’s face.

“She was,” Dieter explains, hoping his cheeks aren’t red. “But there were roaches.”

Mia’s face scrunches. “Roaches?”

“Yeah,” you finally fumble, rubbing absently at your stomach. "The guest house needed to be fumigated and that’s not safe for the baby. That’s the only reason I’m in the guest room. I’ll be out in the guest house as soon as the fumigation is over."

Mia nods, but you don't miss the lingering look there in her light eyes.

With Dieter in Prague for the next few weeks you have a lot of free time to yourself. The only problem is you have no one to spend it with. You can't be seen in public now without a bodyguard save for your short walks through Dieter's Calabasas neighborhood. Phone calls with your mom are no longer an option. So you spend most of your time scrolling through social media, watching movies and swimming.

Dieter has always been annoying but he's the kind of annoying that brings you comfort now. Without his loud presence in the house you start to feel lonely. A strange feeling you've never really experienced due to your busy lifestyle.

It makes you long for the sound of Dieter's record player in the art room. Makes you long for his brash laughter during a funny commercial. Makes you long for the way your voices worked against one another when practicing lines, the sound of him muttering to himself when he reads something that interests him in the paper, the way he rasps your name when he’s just woken up.

All the sounds of Dieter that you realize have come to be their own comforting symphony to you.

But he’s with Mia and that's how it should be. They're on the same level. And you know that these feelings are from your hormones. This warmth will fade the second this child is taken from you and is likely contributing to this lonely feeling that arises with you each empty morning.

He’s only been gone four days but those days seem to stretch into eternity. Your mind is usually so full and your schedule packed. But you’re almost annoyingly free right now. Dieter has made only one request of you and that is to update the app every day at least once. He says it makes him feel less guilty about leaving, even though you're the one who encouraged it.

So you do.

29 weeks

Cravings

SALT

Vanilla

pie filling

chips

peanuts

Missing

the ability to see my feet

Baby is size of butternut squash

The only thing that tethers you to Dieter are the sporadic text messages he sends you. Where you once found his constant need to stay in touch annoying, now you crave his random messages, re-reading them with a smile.

[1:44pm] D: I hate not speaking Czech. I feel like everyone is making fun of me and I have no proof. [1:44pm]: You're being paranoid. [1:44pm] D: I'm not!!! [1:46pm] D: Okay maybe a little. Mia and I did an edible. [1:46pm]: Dieter! [1:46pm] D: Diane said no hard drugs! Edibles are natural.

You roll your eyes.

[1:47pm]: Whatever. Hope you're having fun.

You wish you could see his face when you recall Mia's instagram. You forgot you follow her. The second you click on her story you wish you hadn't. It's her and Dieter in a gorgeous spot in Prague chatting with the caption: Czech us Out! @BravoitsDieter

Your loneliness hits you on the fifth day quite acutely. And instead of turning to television or swimming you lay on your back in bed and stare up into the ceiling before your fingers fumble for your phone and you type hurriedly.

[6:08am]: I think he has your hair. [6:12am] D: Huh? What?? Why? [6:12am]: They say if the mother has lots of heartburn then the kid will have lots of hair. Right now I feel like my heart has been dropped in acid. [6:13am] D: No way. I thought babies were always bald. [6:13am]: Not always. I wasn't. Were you? [6:13am] D: Dunno. Never saw baby photos of myself. [6:14am]: Why not? [6:14am] D: My mom cared about stuff like that. When she died my dad just put everything in the attic and tried to forget.

You didn't know that about Dieter. You've heard snatches of information from other staff that Dieters dad is a low life, but to not save photos of your kid? That seems cruel.

[6:14am]: I'm sorry. [6:15am] D: NP. [6:15am] D: Mia is taking me to a museum so I gtg ttyl

You frown at the phone.

"What a bitch," you murmur before stopping yourself. You think about how your baby can probably hear sounds outside the womb now and you feel guilty.

"No, actually, she's not a bitch. She's really lovely and she's so good for your dad."

Your hands drift over your belly slowly, subconsciously as you speak and soon your eyes follow suit.

"Strange to think you're just in there all snuggly," you tell your belly with amusement. You gasp when you think you can feel a slight flutter within you abdomen.

"Is that you?" You wonder aloud. "Can you hear me?"

The fluttering continues and you feel something in you shift. Your heart squeezes pleasantly. He rarely moves around for just you. It seems he's most active when Dieter is nearby.

"You're really in there," you laugh to yourself. "And you can hear me."

The lonely feelings begin to dissipate. You're not alone - you have your son to keep you company. You talk to him through the day. You make jokes about bubble having Dieters hair. You talk to Bubble about the book you read on the porch. When you watch a documentary you narrate for the baby.

You update the app with a cheerful photo of you making a heart over the bellybutton with your fingers. You think Dieter will get a kick out of it.

When you go to bed you put the headphones over your belly and hit play on the walkman.

"This is a new one from your Dad," you tell your belly wryly as you position the foam on either side of your bump. "So I apologize now if it's fucking annoying."

With a serene smile you go to sleep with his muffled voice against your skin. And when you wake up on the sixth day you feel good. It's not until you look at the calendar that you're reminded of Friday's date.

Your birthday.

The first one without your father. It makes your stomach drop.

As if all of California has gotten the memo the day is grey and drizzly. You spend most of the day napping and eating whatever Petra has put together. But by mid afternoon you’re feeling restless. You try walking around the block, but the weather drives you back inside. You try to distract yourself but nothing seems to work.

Petra and Magda have gone home for the day. It’s just you and bubble and right now it feels like it’s just you. You decide to order a pizza for dinner, and as you wait for your Hawaiian Delight to arrive you can’t help but reach out to the one person you wish was here.

[5:48pm]: How is Prague? [5:50pm] D: Boring. [5:50pm]: Only you would say Prague is boring, Dieter. [5:51pm] D: In the airport now. Gonna go to Germany for a couple days. Mia really wants to see Cologne Cathedral and apparently they’re doing some once-in-a-decade tour event thing. I dunno. How’s the bubble? [5:51pm]: Still here.

You don’t know why you’re both still calling him Bubble. The tabloids have made it impossible not to be aware that you’re pregnant after all. But there’s something sweet about referring to him as your little Bubble.

[5:52pm] D: airport is so fucking noisy and I'm so tired. found coffee though.

[5:52pm]: Make sure not to drink too much. You won’t sleep on the plane. [5:52pm] D: U didn’t update the app today. [5:53pm]: Sorry, been distracted. [5:53pm] D:??? [5:53pm] D: How come?

You have no desire to get into this over text. Besides it’s not Dieters problem, it’s yours. And it’s not a problem it’s just. . . life.

[5:55pm]: Doesn’t matter. Here, this will have to do.

You attach a picture of your hand over your swollen bump and send it over.

You’re surprised when you see Dieter calling.

“Hello?”

“Why are you distracted?”

“Dieter don’t you have better things to do than call me about this?” You say rolling your eyes, but still delighted to be hearing his raspy voice. “Aren’t you in the airport?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t Mia with you?”

“She went to get another magazine for the flight. You gonna tell me what’s going on? Is it the Bubble?”

“No,” you say grunting as you lean back against the sofa.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine!”

“Cmon,” Dieter cajoles. “You know I’m just gonna keep calling and texting until you tell me.”

“Its pregnancy brain,” you throw out, hoping this will satiate him.

“Liar. Your voice always does that clipped thing when you lie.”

You can’t help but feel a small smile cross your features. You hear the distant boarding call for his flight and you decide you might as well tell him. It’s not like he doesn’t already know that your dead is dead.

“It’s just… It’s my birthday. The first one since my dad died and ...."

You trail off. You hear silence on the other end of the phone and then a soft fuck.

“Dieter?”

“I thought it was next month,” Dieter is murmuring and you can hear him tapping on the phone. “Fucking calendar. Fuck. I thought it was next month same day. That’s what I have it as. Fuck. This is why I don’t program my own fucking electronics. Fuck.”

“Nope. Today,” you clarify, amused at how frazzled he sounds. “But it’s not your problem. It’s just this is my first birthday without my Dad and, my Mom isn’t talking to me and I realized I’ve worked so hard so long I have no real friends and…. It’s just…”

You break off when you feel tears starting.

“Anyway, not your problem,” you say forcing your voice up an octave. “I’m only telling you because you asked. I hope you and Mia enjoy your trip! I can’t wait to see photos.”

“Hey, wait-“

“I gotta go,” you say, brushing the stray tears that have escaped. “Pizza guy is here. Bye!”

You hang up the phone and then place it on silent. You don’t want to talk with him anymore. You don’t want to talk with anyone. You just spoke to Dieter but that doesn't stop you from missing him. It gets to the point where you pull up old interview footage with him on YouTube just so you can hear his voice and see his smile.

When the pizza arrives you pay the guy delivering it, but then you just shove the box in the fridge. You take a shower, letting the tears mingle with the steamy droplets before pulling on a new nightdress. You grab the walkman and headphones, about to put them on when you pad t the kitchen for a glass of water.

You walk back, about to retire to your guest room, walking past Dieter’s bedroom. You’ve rarely ever been inside it and never when he isn’t at home. But something about today compels you into it, something make you push open the door and walk to his bed.

The room is recently cleaned by Petra, the bed freshly made, the floors sparkling, his clothing put away. The fireplace is off but you switch it on, noticing his tattered green robe freshly washed and hanging on the back of the bedroom door. You don’t even think about it, you just pull it on over your sleep dress and stumble into his bed.

Dieter’s bed is so comfy, even better than the one in his guest house and room. You curl under the sheets, burying your face in his pillow. It smells like his expensive shampoo and the cologne he sometimes wears. It brings tears to your eyes.

You wish he was here.

You turn onto your back, tummy swollen and resting heavily. It makes you long for Dieter in all aspects. Not just to fuck, but to spend time with. He's so different from anyone you know. He doesn't follow rules or social norms. But when you're with him you feel calm and not judged. It makes you feel like you can let go.

"Your daddy really is wonderful," you murmur to your belly, stroking it. "You might hear bad stuff but you need to know what a good heart he has. He's so generous and funny and he loves so deeply. You're not even here yet and he's so in love with you."

You look at the walkman resting beside you, and instead of putting it around your abdomen something inspires you to put the headphones on yourself. You’ve never listened to the message before but tonight you do.

You slip the cheap foam over your ears, rewinding the tape and smiling when his voice sounds out over the tape.

“Hey little Bravo, this is your dad speaking. I just found out you’re gonna be a boy. Woah. My son. Uh, I need you to know that you are so special and that when you’re born we’re gonna have so much fun. I’ve already made a list of places we’re gonna go. And-“

It goes on like this for several minutes with Dieter excitedly detailing all his future plans for he and his son. You hang onto every word, enraptured with the life he has in store for his son. You imagine a future with Dieter holding a baby with his same wild hair. And in this future you see him reach for a woman, but she isn’t you. It’s Mia, and she looks so happy with them. The perfect family.

Dieter’s voice draws you back in.

“You need to know that your Mom loves you just as much as me. I watch her patting you and whispering to you all the time. She told me last week that you were the size of a head of cauliflower. Then she started humming a song about her cauliflower son.”

You laugh out loud at the memory of you swimming a few weeks ago humming a tune about a cauliflower son. You didn’t even realize Dieter was paying attention. You turn your attention back to the recording.

“I just want you to know how much I love you. I love you so so much. I’m so excited to meet you.”

You stop the tape, rewinding it.

“I just want you to know how much I love you. I love you so much.”

You sniffle, rewinding the tape again.

“I just want you to know how much I love you. I love you so much.”

Again.

“I love you so much.”

Again and again you rewind to hear that section. And as you finally drift off into sleep it’s to the gentle sound of the man you desire whispering how much he loves you.

Dieter arrives at home late, toeing off his sneakers as he yawns, scratching his belly before heading for his bedroom. The suitcase is left at the front door, tomorrow’s problem. He’s exhausted from the flight and he needs to get some sleep before he talks to you tomorrow morning.

He opens the door to his room, preparing to throw himself into bed when he notices the fireplace is on. He pauses, seeing you in your bed lying on your side sleepily soundly. A small smile curls onto his lips when he sees the bright yellow walkman in your hand, fingers loosely around it. What strikes him is that you're wearing the headphones; you don't have them around your belly.

Dieter is quiet, looking down at your peaceful sleeping face illuminated by your bedside table. One of your hands is splayed over your belly protectively and this makes him smile. He gently pulls the earphones from off your head, sliding the walkman from your grip and placing both on his nightstand.

He figures he’ll sleep in the guest room tonight, musing that you’re playing musical beds tonight.

You murmur something sleepily, something be doesn't catch. He takes a minute longer to look at you and then his face hovers over yours. He kisses you softly, an innocent press of his lips to yours.

"G'night baby mama."

You shift partly awake, arms reaching out to wrap around his neck. He grins, allowing himself to get pulled into the bed next to you. You’re so warm. You don't say anything; you just snuggle up against him, face nuzzling against his neck.

"Go back to sleep, baby," Dieter tells your sleepy frame. "Just turning the light off."

He presses a ginger kiss to your temple before his free hand clicks the light next to the bed.

"Okay, love you, g'night," you murmur, still mostly dozing.

Dieter is silent, unmoving as your words rattle around in his head. He waits until you're snoring before he finally replies.

"I love you too."

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