#dieter bravo best friend imagine

[insomniamamma]

Circle, Circle: Dieter Bravo X f!reader

A/n: written for my @yearofcreation2023 Year of Kisses. This prompt was a kiss for comfort, and a whole lot of real life happened between when I started this and now. This is a love letter to the theater nerds I knew in high school and the theater nerd I became later in life. This one turned out different than I thought it would. This story refused to be smutty. This story refused to be sexy. I don't make the rules. Inspired largely by this.

warnings: drug and alcohol use, angst, implied fatphobia, insecurity, cuddles and fluff, being dieter's best friend implies it's own warning.

You saw the clip. Annika belting Dieter in the chops in the middle of some posh party while Kate looked on with the kind of face you make when your drunken best friend barfs in a potted plant at your parents house. You never loved me! You never loved me at all! Dieter's hands thrown up in self defense, grinning at the cameras as security goons hook their arms around Annika's waist and pull her out of the shot. Day in the life.You saw the clip and knew what was coming. Dieter fuckin Bravo.

You've known D since middle school, gravitating towards each other because no one else wanted anything to do with either of you. The girls called you stupid and fat and ugly. The boys called him faggot. So you'd banded together, smoking cigarettes you stole out of your Gramma's dresser, smoking shake-weed out of pop-can pipes at the edge of school grounds, right under that stupid sign that read 'drug free school zone' and then kicking it into the tall grass when some terminally bored teacher's aide came to round up you and D and the rest of the burnouts. Nobody ever gave you more than the cursory straighten up and fly right speech. Neither of you were actively failing so no one cared. Then, in high school Dieter discovered the theater program and so did you.

You saw the clip and knew your phone would ring eventually. Or buzz rather. Coming home, he texts. Can you pick me up? Sure. What time? Knowing exactly what will happen. He'll say he won't be any trouble, that he'll book a room at the holiday inn and you'll tell him no and invite him to stay. Because you always do. Because home has turned on him for getting out. He's won an Oscar out in the world, but here? He's sneered at, deep well of contempt for those who strike out and fail and come home licking their wounds. Who does he think he is? Who do you think you are? Hurts less for you because you never tried to leave as much as you wanted to.

You should try out, you told him. If I'm trying out you should too, he told you. Little Shop of Horrors. He was gunning for Seymour so you learned Audrey, so you could practice the songs with him. I can't try out are you kidding me? You can, D told you, you sound...rested his hand on your upper arm the way someone might touch a live nuclear warhead. You sound good. We sound good together. You know that right? And inside you do. The way his voice weaves through yours, the way you can let go when it's just the two of you. His garage or your basement, singing over the piano track the music teacher made.

He's a mess. He looks about four days out from his last shower, his curls sticking up in greasy quills, his eyes are red-rimmed, from drugs or crying, you can't tell. This is how it is for him. He fucks up spectacularly and then he comes slinking home. No one cares here. No one gives a shit about his Oscar here. Just that no good Bravo boy limping home like a kicked dog. But you care. Dragging his carry-on along behind him, broad shoulders slumped, you feel that unwilling, unwitting spike of pity lodge in your chest.

They'd laughed. At the audition. When you and Dieter took your positions on stage, a bit of rough blocking you'd worked out between the two of you. Not loud braying laughter, snickers and titters of girls expecting a debacle and you feel your chest constrict and your eyes burn--

"Lift up your head Wash off your mascara Here, take my Kleenex, wipe that lipstick away Show me your face, clean as the morning I know things were bad, but now they're okay--"

But Dieter has you, grips your chin with finger and thumb just like you practiced, those big brown eyes terrified and deadly serious hold yours as he draws you to your feet. Audrey's lines pour out of you in a rush, the accompaniment a hair slower than the recording, I blew it, I blew the song and then you find the tempo, you find your voice and it rings out like it did all the times you and Dieter ran it together, belting it over the cast recording, rings out into the dark auditorium, the way you've heard it in your head this whole time, and you feel your skin prickle as Dieter's voices threads through yours like a grounding touch, and you finish together, singing into each other's faces.

The accompaniment stops and there's polite applause.

"You saw?" "Everybody saw--" "Fuck."

He smells like stale beer, fast food and no sleep. "You knew it wasn't gonna last with her right?" You keep your eyes on the road, but you can feel D bristle in the passenger's seat. "How do you mean?" "Come on, man, she's, like, half your age. Even if you hadn't cheated on her with Kate--" "Hey--" "You and her have nothing in common other than being trapped in that weird quarantine bubble," you say, "That's not love, that's fucking Stockholm syndrome." "You're probably right." "I'm always right. Haven't you figured that out by now?"

"This is some bullshit!" Dieter jabs a chipped black fingernail at the list of names tacked to the bulletin board outside the auditorium. "Your name is nowhere on that list. We sounded so good together! They--" "Dieter it's fine," you say. "They cast Emmy Lancaster as Audrey! What the fuck?" "Emmy's fine. She's got a nice voice." "Yeah, but she's not you! How'm I gonna do it if it's not you?" "D! Stop it!"You grab him by his upper arms and shake him a little, and those big brown eyes lock onto yours and he looks like he's drowning. "You've got this. I know you, dude, you're gonna be great." His eyes flick back and forth like he's searching for something. "Will you still run lines with me?" "Of course I will, you asshole."

"You hungry?" "Starving." "Mabels?" "Mabels."

"Oh, man, I forgot how good this is."

You and Dieter order the same thing as ever, garbage omelets with and order of biscuits and gravy split between you. D slathers his plate in hot sauce and you wrinkle your nose like you always do. And the question comes up as it always does. Can I stay with you? Just for a little bit-- and the answer is always yes, because D is a disaster but he's your disaster.

He's held your hair while you puked, you babied him when his girl dumped him right before senior prom. You ran lines together, even though you couldn't act with him. You don't have the right look for Audrey, they told you, but we do need a stage manager, and you threw yourself into it even though it hurt, because what where you expecting? And you had a knack for it, which surprised you and everyone else. The Audrey Two puppets were rented, but everything else had to be built and you found that you loved it, sketching out the sets, figuring out how to make the pieces light enough for you and the half-dozen other nerds you'd press-ganged into being stage crew to lift easily. We can do most of it with scrims, paint right on the fabric and then light it on from the back, or we could project the images right on them, like what Nine Inch Nails does. We can get with the AV club, see what they think.

"You can always stay with me, Dieter." You reach across the sticky table and wrap your hand around his forearm, "You know that right?" And there's a flicker across his face that says no, and it feels like a spike in your belly--

"Everyone's saying-- Christ. It's like everything I touch turns to shit."

"C'mon, that's crap and you know it, Hunger Strike--"

"That was different!" He surges forward and takes your hands in his, a bit of coffee sloshed between you, turned ears and cocked heads of the few patrons haunting Mabel's this time of night. "I had something there! It was like, something entirely outside of me--"

"Like catching lightning in a bottle?"

"Exactly like that!" And he smiles, brilliantly, the real one, not the cool little smirk reserved for the red carpet, for the press junkets, the smile that lights him up, the one you remember from way back when the lights came up and the orchestra played the main theme, the cast linked arm and arm, ready to take their bows and Dieter broke ranks, deviated from what you'd done in the previews, running the show for a cadre of bored teachers who'd rather be doing just about anything else, he sees you in the wings and catches your eye, waves you out two handed, a huge clownish gesture that requires a response, so you and the tech crew pour onto the stage, while the actors slide down to make room for you and you dip your outstretched hands to the orchestra and raise them again to the soundboard and spot operator the way you've seen every night this run and then everyone links arms and bows in a wave and suddenly Dieter's arms are locked around you, releases you and then turns to the crowd, raises your hand and his together, as the applause comes up.

"Do you know how that feels?" And you remember the way you and him sounded together, how Audrey poured out of your lungs like she had always been there-- "Yeah, D, I do," and his eyes flicking back and forth across your face still and hold yours, his hands warm in your grasp.

"Yeah," he says, and squeezes your fingers in his, "Yeah, I think you do." And you stay like that a beat, hands folded together across the sticky table, ancient cigarette smoke and old coffee and hand sanitizer. The waitress brings the check. One of Mabel's spray tanned granddaughters. You draw your hands away like you've been caught.

You've kissed Dieter exactly once, under the much-graffitied overpass, neon slurs and pentagrams and pigeon shit, both of you drunk on Wild Irish Rose, him smelling of weed and his mouth was warm, tentative against yours, and you'd laughed about it afterwards, circle-circle dot-dot now i've got my cootie shot, and you'd leaned together with your arms around each other, warm and solid against each other.

During tech week you'd pulled double duty, running lines with Dieter because outside of the auditorium Emmy Lancaster wouldn't even look at him, rolled her eyes all through rehearsal as if she was doing the world a favor by being there. She wanted nothing to do with him outside of scheduled rehearsals and Dieter was scared. The tech crew you'd rounded up was a different story all together, the lights are down and they can't see us so go nuts, so backstage you'd gone full goth, all black and dramatic makeup, and some of the others had followed suit, a little bit of rebellion behind the curtain where no one could look at you.

After one particularly grueling night, you and Dieter find yourselves side by side on the futon in your basement. Your bedroom proper is upstairs but your folks have let you build a nest down here so won't bother the rest of the house. They've mostly given up on you but that gives you some freedom.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he says, looking up at the crappy drop ceiling and glow in the dark stars that you've decorated it with. "Emmy hates my guts. She thinks I'm a creep. How'm I supposed to make this work?"

"Pretend she's me."

"What?"

"Pretend. She's. Me. You're good singing and running lines with me, so just imagine it's me and not Emmy fuckin Lancaster up there with you."

"Will that work?"

"Dude, I don't fuckin know, but you better figure it out quick. We open in a week."

The ride home is silent save for the scrape of windshield wipers, low, warm spit of rain, winding back roads and Dieter's fallen asleep, head turned away, slumped against the window, comes blearily awake at the sound of your tires on the gravel driveway.

"Hey, D, we're home." He stretches in the passenger's seat and yawns hugely.

"I can still get a hotel. I don't want to be a problem--"

"Too late. C'mon."

You fall asleep under fake plastic glowing stars and wake to find you and him wrapped together, his forehead pressed to yours, your arms tucked around his ribs, his hand folded over the curve of your hip, his breath warm against your face, and you're not sure how this makes you feel, because you've never been close with someone quite like this and you're not sure what might happen next, but at the same time this is Dieter and you've known each other for what feels like a million years and he looks so different asleep, face all slack like a little kid who's zonked out in the back on the car on some long road trip.

"I'll take the couch." "The fuck you will. I know the wire-work on Cliff Beasts 6 tweaked your back." "Was it that obvious?" "I could tell." "You can always tell."

"D. Hey, D." You try to squirm out of his grip without waking him, but you haveto resort to a good hard poke in the ribs. His eyes fly open and the two of you launch up and out of bed and away from each other like two magnets forced pole to pole.

"hoooomygod. Oh shit I'm so sorry, I didn't mean--" "Dude, it's okay, I didn't mean either-" "I was just so tired holy shit," his eyes are wide and his cheeks are fire engine red and you can feel the embarrassment and anxiety pouring off him like radiation. You start laughing. You can't help it. "What?" "You remember that scene from Planes, Trains & Automobiles?" Dieter brays laughter and the embarrassment flicks out like a candle flame.

You offer your hand and he takes it. You lead him upstairs. You need to get cleaned up. You smell like the floor of a taxi-cab, and Dieter laughs, a small one that just barely touches his eyes, his big be-ringed hand folded around yours, stroking your knuckles with the pad of his thumb, eyes down-turned.

"You always let me come back to you. No matter how bad I fuck up. You don't have to- you shouldn't--"

"Don't tell me what I should or shouldn't do Dieter Bravo. You can always come to me. Unless you become a serial killer. Which seems unlikely considering how squeamy blood makes you."

Dieter laughs, a real one this time, that dimples his scruffy cheek and crinkles his eyes closed, and he knows you're talking about the time in Mrs. Wilson's home economics class when Lola Stevens sliced her thumb opening a can of peaches to make cobbler and Dieter got one good look at the running blood and slithered bonelessly out of his chair, eyes rolled up to the whites.

He laughs and pulls you into a crushing hug, his arms banded around your back, pressing you into him and it catches you off guard and you stumble against him, sorry. I didn't mean, and you don't give him space to elaborate, tuck your face into his neck, wind your arms just as tight around his middle. He smells like skunk weed and whiskey sweat and fast food and exhaustion but also like home, like those fevered days leading up to opening night, like when your first serious boyfriend had dumped you, like when he'd held your hair while you puked in the weeds by the side of the road, walking back home from a kegger that he cops broke up, the two of you creeping into the basement, got you a big sweating plastic tumbler of water in the ugly yellow light from the range hood, his eyes big and dark and serious, afraid of waking the rest of the house, and laughter had come bubbling up silent giggles that he caught like the plague, did you see the way Greggie ran?-- shut up you're gonna get us caught--

"Christ I missed you." "Missed you too, D, but you really need to shower." "That bad, huh?" "Yeah, that bad."

With some coaxing Dieter sleeps beside you, curled away from your nightstand lamp. Can't ever sleep without reading a little first, a horror yarn you've read a half-dozen times, plucky hero and damsel in distress threaded through with Dieter's even breath. He looks oddly frail in the soft light, back hunched in and knees tucked up like he's cold. You kill the light and slide the book under your pillow. You already know how it ends.

You kill the light and tuck yourself against his broad back, slide your arm around and his hand finds yours, folds your fingers into his, tucked against his chest. He smells like your soap and your shampoo because his toothbrush and a hair-clotted razor were the only toiletries that made it into his tangle of luggage. Walmart, you think, need to go anyway. You feel him soften, relax into your embrace, his weight settling against you, press your lips to the back of his head before tucking your face into the warm join of his shoulder.

His voice, sleep heavy and slurred-"Did you just kiss me?"

"Circle-circle, dot-dot"

[freelancearsonist]

I Was Fixed On Your Hand of Gold

➔ Lucien Flores x afab!Reader - 1k

➔ When Lucien gets bored, his hands start to wander. OR Lucien uses his fingers for good evil underneath the table at dinner with your friends.

➔ Rated MA for exhibitionism kink, fingering (r receiving), pet names (baby), references to smoking/nicotine use, no use of y/n, reader has female anatomy but no pronouns used. [please let me know if i missed any :)]

➔ i don't know anything about this man other than that he looks scummy and i'm in love with him. thank you to the dieter bravo brainrot club discord server for feeding my madness and to @shakespeareanwannabe for proofreading this incoherent horny babble <3 title is from 'would that i' by hozier wow what a surprise another cece fic named after a hozier song

“Don’t. Fucking. Move.”

It’s growled so low in your ear that you could almost believe it’s imagined. But with the way his fingers are dancing against your burning skin, tracing little circles along the length of your thigh, there’s nothing but intention in his voice–regardless of how raspy and deep it is.

Eager fingers push your skirt out of the way, impatient yet calculated. He moves slowly and with deliberation, careful not to show anything above the tablecloth.

“Don’t ignore your friends, baby,” he murmurs low into your ear so only you can hear.

It reminds you of where you are, and why this can’t happen right now. There’s five other people gathered around the table, all smiles and camaraderie and little sips of cheap wine. It’s been a good evening, really. But they’re your friends, not Lucien’s. He won them over within five minutes of meeting them and he’s been bored ever since. And when Lucien gets bored, his hands start to wander.

It’s wrong and you should really stop him. You should push his hand away before his nomadic fingers can climb any further up your thigh than they already have. But he finds the wet spot that’s pooling against your panties, and there’s no denying how much you want it.

It takes every ounce of your restraint not to moan when he finds your clit. It’s like his fingers gravitate to it, like there’s some kind of magnetic pull–even through the barrier of your panties, the cocky bastard doesn’t struggle at all.

He doesn’t even blink. His thick, practiced fingers swirl against the seat of your panties with ease and he doesn’t react even remotely when his fingers immediately come away soaked.

You’ve never been so wet in your life, watching him chuckle at the story your best friend is telling across the table and all the while pretending that his greedy, heavy fingers aren’t pushing your panties aside to swipe through the gathering slick.

Your knee jolts before you can control it and knocks against his thigh, thankfully not causing any noticeable disturbance to the rest of the table’s occupants. But the look he gives you is enough warning–head tipped down, dark eyes impossibly darker, jaw set. He looks dangerous, and it makes your traitorous cunt soak his fingers even further. He’ll only tell you once: if you can’t sit still, you’ll be going home aching and unsatisfied.

You need to come so bad in this moment that you feel like you might cry–so, despite feeling rather like a scolded child under his gaze–you lock every muscle in your body to the best of your ability and let the horrible, delicious onslaught continue.

You swallow thickly when you feel the first real press of his finger. It swirls from your clit down to your entrance, and that’s all the warning you get before he slowly, torturously presses it into your cunt.

He lets it rest, just for a moment, knuckle deep–he knows that even this single finger is a slight stretch. After a moment or two to adjust, he withdraws completely and you have to fight back the whine that builds in your throat. But before you can betray your impatience he’s back, overwhelmingly so, two fingers pressed deep and curled in the exact way that he knows will make you shatter. It’s cruel to do this to you right now, to find that most sensitive spot when you can’t moan or even shudder in reaction to the delicious onslaught of pleasure.

His fingers are relentless–there’s a skilled craft to the way his arm stays completely motionless while his middle and ring fingers flutter and scissor against your g-spot.

Your thighs shake from the sensation the closer he brings you to release. As much as you try to ignore it–to focus on the current story about something that happened in a grocery store parking lot last Thursday–he’s bringing you to the brink so fucking fast that there’s no denying it. There’s no hope for composure, especially once his calloused thumb joins in to swirl tight, rapid circles over your clit.

Above the table, you make eye contact with one of your closest friends and laugh breathlessly at the meaningless story they tell. They never even suspect that below the table, you’re squeezing and fluttering around Lucien’s hand as the most intense orgasm of your life sweeps through you.

It takes a solid few moments for you to be able to breathe normally again. And Lucien, the smug bastard, just leans back in his chair and spreads his leg comfortably, free hand resting behind his head in the most casual manner possible like he didn’t just make you come all over his fingers. And then, when he’s sure no one is looking, he brings his right hand up to his lips and sucks his fingers deep into his mouth–looking directly into your eyes as he does so. He licks every drop of your cum from his digits so carelessly in front of your friends that it nearly makes you come again.

You think he’s had his fill. Your head stops swirling and he laughs along with your friends and you think he’s done. You’re wrong. 

He takes your hand in his and laces your fingers together, guiding you ever-so-slowly to palm him through his loose sweatpants. His cock is straining, hard and insistent, against the thick cotton fabric–it makes you squirm in your own seat a little bit.

He’s impossibly casual about your touch as he wiggles a half-spent pack of Marlboros from his breast pocket.

“Go ahead, baby,” he mutters right into your ear. “Take care of your fuckin’ mess.”

And who are you to decline after he so generously took care of you?

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[burntheedges]

Summer Stuff-My-Inbox Fic Rec List (Part 2)

I can't believe it's already September? What the hell, honestly. Thank you all for sending me your fics again!

Remember to check out Part 1, too.

The list has 57 more Pedro-character fics posted since June 1, organized by character and then alphabetically by author. Mind all tags and warnings! I've noted word count (we've got a range!), whether it's part of a series, and pairings. Let's get reading and reblogging!

Characters in this rec list: Dave York, Dieter Bravo, Din Djarin, Ezra (Prospect), Frankie Morales, Javier Gutierrez, Javier Peña, Joel Miller, Marcus Acacius, Marcus Moreno, Marcus Pike, Pero Tovar, Tim Rockford

...

Dave York

melt by @sizzlingcloudmentality | 960 words | Dave x f!reader summary: wine drunk and with fresh croissants from the bakery you're having French breakfast and sex with Dave. | Daphne mentioned being proud of this one particulary because of the smut!! 😏

Dieter Bravo

Eros & Psyche by @schnarfer | ~16k, complete | Dieter x f!reader summary: Dieter is a modern day Greek God Eros. We’re going full existential dread rom-com, actually. | I can't wait to read this!

Golden Girl by @whocaresstillthelouvre | 2.9k | Dieter x f!reader summary: What happens when you discover your husband has been cheating on you? You call his best friend to help comfort you.

Starlet by whocaresstillthelouvre | 3.7k | Dieter x f!reader summary: Your husband has a big movie premiere, sure he looks great, but his co-star looks even better.

Din Djarin

Fifteen Weeks by whocaresstillthelouvre | 5k | Din x f!reader summary: It's been fifteen weeks since Din Djarin first entered your life, now you can't imagine it without him. You take a leap of faith in your relationship and visit him at his farm. | this is part 2! Don't miss part 1!

Oath Broken and Soul Bound by @whxtedreams | 1.8k, wip | Din x OFC Witch hunter!Din x OFC!Witch, from Flora: It's a Witch AU, fantasy and forbidden love. It's very new, only one chapter out but I have very big plans. I have pretty much the entire fic mapped out. It also has Ezra, Frankie and Joel as characters. You can learn more about their characters here in the character study i did for them. This is my passion project, I have so much love for them and I can’t wait to share my story in more detail!

Tales from the Dark Garden by @hapan-in-exile | 9k | Din x f!reader summary: The reader is a courtesan at the Dark Garden, Coruscant’s most prestigious pleasure house, where you encounter the Mandalorian.

Touchstone by @sawymredfox | 2.6k | Din x f!reader summary: Things are not always what they seem. They have a meaning. They have a reason behind them, private and cherished.

Ezra (Prospect)

There are Other Fish in the Sea by @beefrobeefcal | 4 parts | Frankie x f!reader, Ezra x f!reader summary: an alternate ending (and continuation) of another of Beefro's fics, where Frankie messes up and Ezra comes along.

Joel x Ezra

who knows where the time goes by @sixhours | 11k | Joel x Ezra (Prospect) summary: It's New Year's 2027 and the dads are going through it. An i know you by heart one-shot.

Frankie Morales

Like the Rain by @jennaispunk | 2.9k | Frankie x f!reader summary: Frankie has something to say….will you listen? | Jenna said this one is her first Frankie fic!! and a challenge because it has more spice, which is fun!

There are Other Fish in the Sea by @beefrobeefcal | 4 parts | Frankie x f!reader, Ezra x f!reader summary: an alternate ending (and continuation) of another of Beefro's fics, where Frankie messes up and Ezra comes along.

Tide by whocaresstillthelouvre | 1.2k | Frankie x f!reader summary: Frankie Morales is capable of almost anything… except not cumming in his jeans when he thinks about you, the pretty clerk at the grocery store he always buys his giant jugs of laundry detergent at.

Javier Gutierrez

KEPT by @beefrobeefcal | 5.3k | Javi x f!reader summary: You might just have bitten off more than you can chew by possibly becoming Javi G's sugar baby.

Rhapsody in Blue by @maggiemayhemnj | 5.5k | Javi x f!reader summary: Javi G takes you to the Oscars. Takes you to the Vanity Fair party. Takes you back to the Chateau Marmont. Then just takes you. | Maggie said this one took her out of her comfort zone, and she ahd fun delving into more spice!

Javier Peña

An End to Drought by @almostfoxglove | 5.4k | Javi x f!reader summary: The future of your family's homestead hangs in the balance as Javier Peña comes home in the middle of a drought.

Dispose of Me by whocaresstillthelouvre | 1.8k | Javi x f!reader summary: Javier Peña needs you… and you're moving away in two weeks.

Dusk by @the-orange-tabby-cat | 8.7k | Javi x f!reader summary: Javier sees you again years after the end of your love affair. Torn between the memories of what happened then and what is now, you both face the weight of your actions from Bogotá to Madrid.

Hold my hand by @milla-frenchy | 4.1k | Javi x f!reader summary: a stranger saves your life. Or your and Javi’s love story.

I'll Carry You by almostfoxglove | 2 of 3 parts, 13.6k | Javi x f!reader summary: You reunite with your childhood best friend when he arrives home from Colombia. Javier's sudden return to your life exhumes buried heartbreak, but he longs to set things right.

Scathed by @dancingtotuyo | 41k, wip | Javi x OFC summary: Javier and Emily experienced the drug war on different fronts in very different ways. Maybe, they’re what the other needs to heal.

Joel Miller

Joel & Ellie, no pairing

happy birthday, baby girl by sixhours | wip | Joel and Ellie summary: Ellie has never had a birthday. Joel can fix that.

Joel x Ezra

who knows where the time goes by sixhours | 11k | Joel x Ezra (Prospect) summary: It's New Year's 2027 and the dads are going through it. An i know you by heart one-shot.

x reader or x OFC

A summer with the Millers by @milla-frenchy | 4.2k, wip | Joel x f!reader x Tommy summary: you come back to your father's house for summer vacation and want to get closer to your crush and dad's best friend, Tommy Miller. His brother Joel is gonna help you to reach your goal.

Always in my Heart by @mermaidgirl30 | 1.2k | Joel x f!reader

summary: Losing a pet is never easy, but you’re not alone because Joel is right there with you, keeping you afloat.

BDSMaid by @mountainsandmayhem | wip | Joel x f!reader summary: After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Cover Me Up by almostfoxglove | 97.7k, finished | Joel x f!reader summary: After you spare the lives of two kids who break into your isolated cabin in the woods, they lead you back to their settlement. You intend to get in, trade for valuable supplies, and get out, but end up staying. Four years later, you're a solitary but respected pillar of Jackson's close-knit community when Joel Miller shows up, kid in tow. You think nothing of him or the kid. You like your quiet life. Too bad it won't stay quiet for long. Or: Joel and Ellie make you human again. | Freya's first series!

Dark Shades of Innocence Lost by mermaidgirl30 | finished | Joel x f!reader summary: After your friends drag you out to Club Inferno on a Friday night, you meet an unexpected man with dark brown eyes. That man is Joel Miller, who turns out to be the owner of the club. The menace that will turn your life upside down. After not dating for a couple of years, Joel finds out and strikes up a proposition for you. Keep coming back and he’ll make sure you experience pleasure like you’ve never felt before.

Fragile State by @galway-girlatwork | 2.5k | Joel x OFC Tara summary: The aftermath of a traumatic car accident leaves a family struggling with fear and uncertainty. The emotional toll weighing them all down as they try to find some normalcy which they all know is impossible until he wakes up. Vulnerability and desperate needs for the man who is the center of their lives to remember who they are and the life he had with them. | the author mentioned this way of writing a story was new, which is very fun!

Halcyon by @justagalwhowrites | ch 16, 110k so far | Joel x f!reader summary: When your life falls apart, you find yourself back in your hometown of Austin, Texas for the first time in more than a decade. Eager to make your own way after a rough divorce, you reconnect with your high school best friend Joel Miller - a man you never thought would be in your life again. Things have changed since your falling out just before you left for college but friendship with Joel comes easy. His life isn't in any better shape than your own and the two of you make a vow to get your acts together - personal, professional and romantic - in the span of a year. But will your burgeoning connection make it so you can figure everything out or will your history together get in the way?

Her by milla-frenchy | 3.2k | Joel x f!reader summary: after Joel confides one of his fantasies to you one day, you make it come true. | her first kinda sub!Joel with Joel realizing a fantasy. 😏

In Need of a Top Up by @tateypots | 1.5k | Joel x f!reader summary: Joel likes calling you his wife and you like hearing it.

In pain and heartache. In comfort and love. by whxtedreams | 2.5k | Joel x f!reader summary: They were so desperate to hold each other after tasting life without one another.

It Tastes of Magic by sawymredfox | 12k | Joel x f!reader summary: Your grandmother always told you the same thing. Have always salt in handy to spill over your left shoulder. Knock on wood to keep away the bad luck. Don't forget that mint likes to have her space to grow. Actions always speak louder than words. And love as much as you can, because even when it hurts, it makes you stronger. Will she still be right?

Lock the Gate by almostfoxglove | 23k+, wip | Joel x f!reader summary: You're less than enthusiastic when your uncle's partner Frank invites two strangers from the Boston QZ to your compound to trade. Joel Miller proves just as callous as you and brutishly stubborn—but after a cutting first impression, a bloody inconvenience, and a long walk through infested woods, you're not sure if the fire you carry for him is actually hate.

Push it by milla-frenchy | 3.4k | Joel x f!reader summary: you have a secret “relationship” with Joel, your dad's best friend. You know you can't have more, but you can’t resist the idea to provoke him a little.

See How She Rides by @arcanefox207 | 4.4k | Joel x f!reader summary: BoatMechanic!Joel Miller is just doing his job when you show up unannounced to soak up some summer sun. | Ally said she had a lot of fun writing this one and I think we're going to have a lot of fun reading it!!

spin me around by @ace-turned-confused | 2.4k | Joel x f!reader summary: you find a vintage record store full of rare finds, the man behind the counter the rarest of them all. | for the Secret Springs challenge!

Stranger in a Bar by justagalwhowrites | 17.3k | part 2, finished | Joel x f!reader summary: You meet a stranger in a bar, one who is fun and sexy and makes you wonder if the single life is all it's cracked up to be. But there's one big problem: you probably shouldn't be fucking your dad's best friend.

Teach Me How to Play Coach Miller by whocaresstillthelouvre | 3.2k | Joel x f!reader summary: You're home alone, relishing a lazy day when your hot neighbor knocks on your door. Seems his TV is out and he really wants to watch the Rangers game. You know nothing about baseball… maybe he can teach you a thing or two?

Tear You Apart by mermaidgirl30 | wip | Joel x f!reader summary: Joel comes for you late at night. He always does. Always stalks, chases, and prowls after you like a starving wolf. And when he catches you, he devours you, feeds on you like the animal he is. Will you run and hide or will you give into the temptation that calls you into the forest?

Tenacity by whocaresstillthelouvre | 2.3k | Joel x f!reader summary: Joel Miller will never allow himself to take what he wants and you know that. How can a broken shower make him realize it's too late and he's already fallen for you? (Or Joel fucks you on his beat up couch in the QZ.)

The Fallen Warrior by @bluestar22x | 6.7k, wip | Joel x f!reader summary: Joel Miller, once the great archangel named Jaoel, fell from grace many centuries ago. After his brethren take everything from him, he immerses himself in human culture. Careful not to get too close to anyone new, everything changes when Joel finds a nephal (nephilim plural) living on the streets in Austin - the first since his fall. A trusted co-worker (reader) ends up adopting her. But just as the street kid, Ellie Williams, is settling into her new home Heaven’s angels come to town searching for her. They have a plan to use her blood in their battle against Hell, then dispose of her after. Joel can’t allow that. He won’t.

The green flannel shirt by milla-frenchy | 817 words | Joel x f!reader summary: Joel comes back home from work and finds you asleep wearing his shirt.

The Savage and the Sanctuary by justagalwhowrites | 8.3k, wip | Joel x f!reader summary: After the death of his daughter, Joel Miller fell apart. But when searching for answers at the bottom of a bottle and within his own rage doesn't fix it, he resigns himself to working for his brother in private security. It's a job that starts him down the path to stability and a semblance of a life, even if it's not one he particularly wants. At least it does until you show up. The biggest movie star in the world with your newly adopted niece in tow, you throw everything about Joel's life into flux. Is he capable of letting himself feel something again while protecting the only things left in the world that matter?

untitled by @idioticcatss | ~1.5k | Joel x reader sophie mentioned being proud of getting out of a writing slump with this fluffy, smutty fic! some tags: love marks, age gap, pet names, smut

Wings of the Dawn by the-orange-tabby-cat | 49k, wip | Joel x f!reader summary: You are Jackson’s librarian, a doll with good heart, that has your life changed when a handsome man and his kid decides to start again in your small town. Having a hard time ignoring Joel’s dark brown eyes, you found yourself wishing to have him closer as you both navigate through love triangles, teenage drama, city gossip and ghosts from both your pasts.

Woman by dancingtotuyo | 74.6k, finished! | Joel x f!reader summary: Joel Miller returns to Jackson bringing back memories and feelings from 20 years ago, but you refuse fall into the universe’s trap again. Your table is at capacity. Adding another chair will only kill you when they get taken away. | also Em just starting posting a no-outbreak AU of this fic!!

Yearling by justagalwhowrites | 306k, finished! | Joel x f!reader summary: After years of surviving in the wilds of Wyoming after the cordyceps outbreak, you find yourself in Jackson. It's a town filled with friendly faces and the kind of world you hardly remember, let alone can connect with or understand. But one man - Joel Miller, another loner, like you - makes you think that trying to find your place in society again might be worth it.

Yearling No-Outbreak AU by justagalwhowrites | 4.1k, wip | Joel x f!reader summary: When Ellie sees you riding at a rodeo, she knows you have to teach her. A no-outbreak AU of Yearling, where you and Joel find each other in every timeline. Can be read independently as a no-outbreak AU fic.

Marcus Acacius

Legionary by whocaresstillthelouvre | 3.4k | Marcus x Lucius x f!reader summary: Marcus returns to his hometown while traveling with his young soldier who's eager to learn from him. Good thing he knows your domus is always open to him.

mould me for ruin by ace-turned-confused | 4.6k | Marcus x f!reader summary: after years of watching general acacius, you long to wield a sword of your own — an opportunity arises for your dreams to come true, in more ways than one.

proud to be yours by ace-turned-confused | 2.7k | Marcus x f!reader summary: it's the first time you've seen acacius since he took your virginity, and he has plans for a different kind of training.

Marcus Moreno

(Some) Bodies by galway-girlatwork | 3.1k | Marcus x OFC Priestly summary: In the shadows of the ancient city, a dark romance blossoms between a healer and a sinner. It is a connection of light and dark, life and death. Can he accept her past? Can she believe there is redemption for what she’s done? Can carefully guarded secrets stay that way?

Marcus Pike

Code name: Hephaestus by @604to647 | 3.2k | Marcus x f!reader summary: Marcus requests a change to his FBI Agent code name. | Emily wrote this for Kel's Pedro Pantheon challenge and really challenged herself!! I'm excited to read. 🧡

next year by me! | 18.3k | Marcus x gn!reader summary: You expected your vacation to go like it always did -- a week of reading, relaxing, and so much alone time you'd be almost happy to see your coworkers when you got back. You'd spend time on the beach and walk around town and generally do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted, just like you did every year. But when you locked eyes from across the sand with the handsome man renting the house next door, something told you this year would be different.

Pero Tovar

Maple by @sawymredfox | 2k | Pero x f!reader summary: A fox, a rifle, and two strangers in a forest. What could go wrong?

Tim Rockford

The detective by @milla-frenchy | 2.6k | Tim x f!reader summary: being a suspect in a theft case, you get interrogated by a handsome and dominant personal investigator.

...

happy reading and reblogging! 🧡

[pedropascalsx]

Dabble request: F reader with Dieter Bravo. He finally wins a major award and the reader decides to award him with smutty sex

THE AWARD.

I slightly changed it and had them enter a bet… I hope that’s okay and I hope you like it. Also you sent this in April and I missed it, i’m so sorry it took so long.

Summary: you jokingly bet that you’ll fuck your best friend dieter bravo if he wins an oscar.

Warnings: Smut. P in V. Oral. (M&F receiving). Betting. Strong language. Dieter Bravo being… Dieter Bravo.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F! Reader.

Word Count: 2053

A/N: I tried LOL. Thank you to @littlebirdsbookshelf for reading an unfinished version of this fic and encouraging me to finish it. I didn’t edit it and I’m too scared to read it back… so I don’t know how many mistakes are in it 😭😂 ENJOY!!

You groan as your phone wakes you up from the most comfortable sleep you’ve had in weeks, before reluctantly kicking off your covers and stepping out of bed.

The photo of Dieter Bravo's smug face flashing up on your phone screen makes you roll your eyes and curse his name before you swipe to answer. “It’s 5AM Diet, if someone isn’t dead, you’re able to be,” you growl into the phone.

“Shut up,” he says with an obnoxious chuckle, “I’m cashing in on our bet, pretty girl.”

“What?” You say before stuttering, “No. Not today, I’m not playing any of your annoying games this early.. . I’m hanging up and I'm going back to sleep, asshat.” You say, with a wide smile spreading across your face from the sound of his chuckling.

“I can hear you smiling.” He remarks and you roll your eyes again at how easily he can read you.

“What do you want, Dieter? I’m tired.”

“I already told you, I’m cashing in on our bet. March 21st 2015. You said you’d fuck me when I win an Academy Award.” Dieter recalls, his voice dripping with its usual arrogance.

“Buying a fake one from Etsy doesn’t count,” you sigh, imagining he’s just dragged himself back to his hotel from some club, “Dieter, if you haven’t already, go to bed, get so—.”

“I’m nominated,” he interrupts, ignoring the irritation in your voice, “My agent called me fifteen minutes ago. For Hunger Strike - Best Leading Actor.”

“Dieter, you better not be fucking with me.” You squeal with excitement, almost jumping up and down on the spot.

“Not yet, I’m not, pretty girl.”

“When are you home?” You ask, suddenly forgetting how tired you are.

“Eager are we?” He says, his eyebrows raising and the first real smile forming across his face in weeks despite his nomination.

“Shut up, asshat, you’ve got to fucking win the thing first… and if I recall correctly, which I do, I think I said I’d consider fucking you if you ever win one and I only said it so you’d take that damn role.”

“Mhmm. Nope. I don’t think I’ve ever heard the word ‘consider’ fall from those gorgeous lips before now,” he teases. “But jokes aside… Tell me you’ll come with me, I hate those fucking things, they’re only fun if you’re swooning over how handsome I am in a suit sitting next to me.”

“Shut up, asshat.”

“Come with me, pretty girl, put those shiny statues to shame, show them how you shine brighter.” He says, unaware of just how fucking cheesy he ends up sounding.

“Only if you buy me a burger after.” You say, glad he isn’t there to see the way you’re unable to stop yourself from smiling.

“Deal.”

*

You haven’t left his side for the past few days, he had asked you quietly to stay with him while he went through the required amount of press and you had made sure that your hand was close enough for him to squeeze when he needed it.

And today was no different, the confident Dieter Bravo the whole world thinks that they know, nowhere to be seen and instead the sweet Dieter that a few people have the pleasure of knowing sits beside you, looking at the dress bag containing the tuxedo he’ll be adorning in just a few hours time.

“You okay?” You ask, quietly bumping your shoulder against his.

“Ask me again when this is all over,” he says, before taking a generous sip of his drink. “I fucking hate red carpets.”

You take his hand and squeeze it a few times, before resting your head on those broad shoulders that you love so much.

“Whatever happens tonight, I’m really fucking proud of you.” You murmur into his skin, “Always have been, you’re the best friend i’ve ever had.”

He shushes you before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, grateful that you’re with him. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Let’s do this.” You say, with a little scrunch of your nose.

*

“And the Academy Award goes to… Dieter Bravo.” The gorgeous actress announces and you swear you can hear his heart beating.

He stands slowly, fiddling with the front of his jacket before turning to face you, immediately smashing his lips to yours in a fleeting kiss that steals your breath before shaking the hand of his director and making his way to the stage.

His speech is short but insightful. He makes sure to make eye contact with you as he thanks you for encouraging him to take the role and then shuffles off the stage as quickly as he can.

“Will you be mad if I suggest we skip the after party?” He asks after they finish engraving his oscar, the award ceremony now over and more hands shook than he could possibly be bothered to count.

“Not at all,” you say, resting your head against his shoulder, and inspecting his shiny new award.

“Room service burgers and a shitty movie to fall asleep in front of?” He suggests, before wrapping his hand around your waist.

“Sounds like heaven.”

*

“It’s really fucking pretty,” you say, your hands wrapped around the statue.

“Yeah,” he says, from somewhere behind you. Unable to stop his eyes from scanning up and down your body, and unable to ignore the way his heart leaps everytime he looks at you. “Second prettiest thing in this room.”

“I’d call you a charmer, but I'm pretty certain you’re about to announce that you’re in first place,” you say, turning around to face him with a giggle and a signature scrunch of your nose.

“No. It’s you.” He says, “In every room. It’s you.”

“Charmer.”

You both stand in comfortable silence for a few moments, just staring at each other before you take a step towards him. “Academy award winner, Dieter Bravo.”

“The one and only,” he scoffs, with a roll of his eyes. “You look really fucking beautiful by the way.”

“Shut up, asshat.” You mumble, now standing toe to toe. Unable to stop thinking about the bet that you had made a few years earlier, one that neither of you had mentioned since the day he was nominated.

He’s been your best friend for years. You met on the set of his very first movie, while working as a makeup artist and immediately struck up a friendship. And while there has always been an obvious attraction between you both, the fear that making a move and acting on it could potentially ruin your friendship had kept those feelings at bay.

But standing here and seeing the way that he’s looking at you, you can’t hold back, so you don’t. You surge forward and capture his lips, kissing him with the same intensity he had kissed you with earlier this evening, but this time it didn’t have to be fleeting. His mouth swallows your moans and his hands start to roam your body, squeezing and grabbing anywhere they could as he kisses you back.

He carefully pulls down the zipper on the back of your dress, dragging it slowly and savouring every second of this moment, a moment he’s been dreaming of since first laying eyes on you.

“Dieter,” you murmur softly against his jaw, wanting him to increase his painfully slow pace of undressing you. “Please.”

He increases his pace, frantically pulling on the material and letting it pool at your feet, before helping you step out of it and guiding you backwards towards the bedroom. His hands still greedily grabbing at any and every part of you as he lays you down.

He wastes exactly no time, pulling your panties off in one clear sweep and diving his head in between your legs. The noises he makes are loud and desperate as he laps at your clit with a messy intensity. Alternating between licking and sucking your little bud, only satisfied when you’re screaming his name and tugging at his signature messy locks before soaking his face with your arousal.

You whimper his name as he continues to lap at your clit, before gently pushing him away as it gets too much. Giggling slightly at the sight of his soaked face.

“Are you planning on getting undressed?” You ask as he moves up your body.

“Not this round,” he growls, before capturing your lips again. His movements are sloppy as he fumbles with his belt, pulling it through the loops and throwing it across the room, before pulling his pants down enough to expose his cock. You push him back slightly, and lay down in front of him on your tummy, a moan slipping out as you take a good look at his cock. Thick, long and throbbing. The tip flushed red with a bead of pre-cum, you lean forward, push up the bottom of his shirt and pepper light kisses on the swell of his tummy, nipping a few times before taking him in your mouth.

He groans your name as you hollow your cheeks, your jaw immediately aching from the sheer width of him and slowly you start to bob your head. Gagging slightly as he rocks his hips and pushes past your tonsils. The snap of his hips meet the rhythm of your enthusiastic mouth. After a few minutes he groans impatiently at not being able to touch you, before pulling out your mouth leaning over you and slapping your ass and then spreading your cheeks and tasting you this way.

You take him in your hand, stroking and flicking your wrist in perfect strokes, moaning his name in a perfect little chant as he uses his nose to tease your clit. You cum with a yelp of his name, taking you both by surprise as he soothes you through the aftershocks with gentle coos and little flicks of his tongue against your pretty little clit.

“On your back, pretty girl,” he orders, giving himself a few rough strokes as he watches you. “You ready for me, baby?” He says with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“I'm ready,” you confirm with a giggle, yelping with excitement as he pushes into you. Praising your ‘perfect little pussy’ as he fills you to the hilt. His arms swoop beneath your knees, so he can fuck into your deeper. “Move, D,” you beg as he waits, wanting you to adjust to the size of him.

The second you give him permission, he’s rolling his hips back, watching your face intently before snapping them forward. Loving the sound of your pretty moans as he thrusts back into you. He bends over and presses his lips against your face, thrusting himself in and out of you. Finding that spot and dragging his cock against it with ease, loving how reactive and tight your pussy gets around him.

“Oh Dieter,” you whimper, almost delirious with pleasure.

“I know, fuck, I know, baby girl,” he murmurs, “Taking my fat cock so well, baby.” You love how vocal he is, the sound of both of your moans filling the room. “You know how many times I’ve dreamed of this?” He whispers into your ear. “Every fucking day, since I met you.”

“Me too,” you stutter, seconds before your pussy clamps down around him and everything goes black. White hot pleasure erupting behind your eyes and his name becoming the only word you can speak.

It's a pleasure like you’ve never experienced, you feel him everywhere and you still want more and more. He keeps his pace as steady for as long as he can but his hips begin to falter, his pace more stilted as his cock begins to throb and he pulls out.

Stroking his cock hard and fast as he pants your cunt with thick pearly ropes of his cum.

“Holy shit.” You say with a giggle, “Even better than I imagined, D.”

“Me too,” he says as he collapses on top of you, leaning his weight onto his elbows. Kissing you gently, before nuzzling his face into your neck.

“So how was your night?” You ask with a giggle. “End as good as it started.”

“A million times better.” He says quietly.

You giggle loudly, “Better than winning the most coveted award in acting?”

“Not even a competition. You would win every time.”

[lincolndjarin]

THIS MASTER LIST WILL NO LONGER BE UPDATED !!!

CLICK THE LINK HERE TO GO TO THE UPDATED VERSION !!!

socials, etc. : *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ao3 ☆ insta ☆ kofi

NAVIGATION:

★ - series

✦ - story containing smut

𓅫 - dead dove do not eat

DIN DJARIN

★✦ Best Kept Secret : bodyguard!din djarin x princess!reader ^ completed

✦ Sweet Boy : din djarin x gn!reader

din asks you to buy something for him at the local markets.

✦ Bound in Beskar : din djarin x f!reader

A down on her luck traveler finds employment with a gruff Mandalorian. He's quiet and reserved, she's resourceful and quick witted, and things are heating up in the forge... one can only imagine what happens in this tale of lust and steel.

JOEL MILLER

★✦ Oh Honey : monster!joel miller x mortician!reader ongoing ^ chapter 5 coming soon

★✦ Every Now and Then : joel miller x f!reader ongoing ^ chapter 2 coming soon

✦ Pretty in Pink : joel miller x f!reader

you and joel have been trying for a baby for a while now, you're skeptical when you get advice from a friend but you're willing to try anything at this point.

✦ The Dragonfly & The Moon : joel miller x f!reader

you and joel decide to take the next step in your relationship.

My Sister Lives in the Attic : joel miller x f!reader

a short story about grief.

AGENT WHISKEY

✦ Ride Cowgirl! : jack daniels x f!reader

you like to make bets with your coworker for simple things, what happens when he decides he wants to raise the stakes?

𓅫✦ More & More & More : jack daniels x f!reader

jack likes to push things.

FRANCISCO MORALES

𓅫✦ A Little Mishap : frankie morales x f!reader

you and frankie return to base camp after an unsuccessful mission, each of you blaming the other for the outcome.

JAVIER PEÑA

✦ Constructive Criticisms : javier peña x f!reader

javier peña has been a thorn in your side for months, the last thing you need is for him to find out you write dirty fanfiction

EZRA

𓅫✦ The Thing That Gives : ezra x f!reader

tentacles, tentacles, and more tentacles.

EXTRAS :

drabbles: (under 1k words)

✦ sub!din x f!reader

✦ dieter bravo x f!reader

✦ comandante veracruz x f!reader

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 23

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo X OFC New as of 10/06/2023

SUPPORT YOUR CREATORS. REBLOGGING & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

Series Rating: Explicit (18+)

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives. 

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Quote: You meeting someone?

It had been three months since I left Dieter behind. All things considered, I felt like I had handled it well. Most days I managed to get through my routine without thinking of him, throwing myself into work and small craft projects. The paparazzi appeared to have gotten bored with following me around since there was no story to report on. I wouldn’t interact with them and there had been no sightings of Dieter and I together. The assumption was that we had split, and any drama related to said split had passed. Not having the paps shouting questions and sticking a camera in my face on my daily commute to the office made a huge difference in keeping him off my mind.

Staying away from social media and tabloid sites had also been crucial in being able to get back to some kind of normalcy. It had become vital to keep this distance, because Dieter was all over the news feeds due to his reinvigorated party boy ways. He didn’t seem like the same person anymore and it was too painful to see it over and over. As far as I knew he hadn’t been home during any of his filming breaks, and with the production of his movie wrapping up soon, I was anxious to know if he would finally come back to LA. Part of that anxiety was rooted in my concern about running into him. No matter how many times I had tried to imagine it, I wasn’t sure how I would handle suddenly being face-to-face with him again.   

I would be lying if I said that I was over him. There was no doubt in my mind that I will always love him. How could I not? He had changed me for the better and helped me through a rough time in my life. During the time that we had been together, and he had been doing well, life had been so much more fulfilling. He showed me what it was like to be loved and appreciated. What it meant to be truly happy. Perhaps even more than that, he had given me the confidence to be myself. I could honestly say that I didn’t know any of that until him. I was able to acknowledge that he did all that for me, but at the same time I had also become mostly numb about it all. Maybe it was the anger, maybe it was denial, or maybe I had figured out how to move on without him. Either way, I felt like I was going to be ok, and I had accepted that he wasn’t going to be a part of my life anymore. 

It was late on a Wednesday evening when I got news that he was back. Lauren texted me to let me know he had been spotted at one of the fancy restaurants that all the celebrities tended to hang out at. Unsurprisingly, he had been there with Anna and a handful of other people. I had asked Lauren not to tell me anything she read about him, but I still found myself grateful to get the warning. At least now I was aware that there was a possibility of running into him, so it wouldn’t catch me completely off guard. What I didn’t realize is how soon that would happen.        

The following morning, I was surprised to receive a call from Ethan Carrington. He called to let me know that he was in town and wanted to have dinner to catch up. I thought it was a little odd, but he was one of our top tier clients, so I agreed to meet him that evening. I wasn’t surprised when he proposed meeting at one of the most upscale restaurants in town. We made plans to meet there by 7 PM and he let me know a table had already been reserved under his name.   

To say I was flustered by the time I left the house was an understatement. All my afternoon meetings had run over, causing me to finish up work much later than I had planned. I had to rush to find something to wear, then shower, and get ready. To save some time, rather than trying to tame my hair, I blow dried it and pulled it back into a sleek low bun, then threw on a light layer of makeup. I got dressed in a navy sleeveless scoop neck A-line chiffon dress that had an asymmetrical bottom and was embellished with a sash around the waist. I dug out my matching navy peep toe high heels with ankle straps to wear, then quickly grabbed my purse and walked barefooted to the car. 

With traffic slowing me down as usual, I made it to the restaurant with only minutes to spare. Luckily it had valet parking, so I didn’t have to worry about finding a spot. I did feel slightly embarrassed about making the valet wait while I put my shoes on. He assured me that this wasn’t even close to the strangest thing he dealt with, and we had a good laugh about it as he waited patiently for me to exit the vehicle.   

As I was walking up the few steps to the entrance, carefully watching my feet to avoid tripping in my hurried pace, I was stopped in my tracks by a set of feet that had come to a standstill directly in front of me. When I looked up, my breath caught in my throat. Dieter and Anna stood in front of me, staring back at me and saying nothing. Dieter looked tired, the telltale sign of dark circles under his eyes revealing his sleep problems were probably still very present. His hair was longer than it had been the last time I saw him, and it was styled into soft, messy curls.  He was dressed in charcoal dress pants with a black button up dress shirt. As usual, the top button was open, and the sleeves were rolled up. He also had his glasses on. A little voice in the back of my mind begrudgingly pointed out that he looked just as sexy as always. Still, something was off about him; it was clear in his fidgety body language, and particularly the turbulent look in his eyes.

My eyes widened as I took him in, my body almost reeling just as strongly as my mind did. “Dieter…umm hi,” I stuttered out. I was startled by his sudden appearance and did not know what to say or how to act. His stare shifted into an unsettling smirk, his dilated pupils making his eyes look darker than usual, and by the way he tipped his head back slightly I could tell that he shifted into performance mode, emitting a boisterous energy that became even clearer when he spoke. 

“I’m surprised to see you at a place like this. You meeting someone?”

His tone sounded heavy, maybe even a little hostile. Ah, so that’s how this was going to go. 

“Yes, I am.” I inhaled deeply and straightened my shoulders, unwilling to play whatever game he was trying to set up here. 

“A guy?” He stared directly into my eyes as he spoke, unblinking, and it struck me how empty the expression on his face was. It was almost like he wasn’t in there and someone else was pulling his strings.

“Not that it’s really any of your business, but yes. It’s a guy.” I didn’t break eye contact, hoping that I was able to keep a neutral expression on my face. All of it felt like a test, but I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to show him that I could easily pass it. Maybe the best response was no response at all. 

He pursed his lips and arched his eyebrows before he shook his head, his eyes shifting downcast momentarily before he looked back up at me. Straightening up as he gathered his composure.

“Well, I hope you get to know this one a little better before jumping into bed with him. Assuming he goes for this whole… polished stepford wife look or whatever this is,” he said, his voice having just the slightest slur to it.

I could feel my jaw tighten, my eyes blazing with anger that his words suddenly re-kindled in me. I gave him a tight smile in return. 

“Hmm,” I said, shaking my head slightly from side to side as I rubbed the fingers of my right hand across my bottom lip in disgust. He continued to stare at me expectantly, clearly wanting a response, and I had to look away for a moment before I met his intense gaze again. “I see what you’re doing, you know. Don’t worry, it’s still working.” I paused briefly, “So, fuck you.” 

“Ooh, you already did that, sweetheart. A whole fuckin’ lot.” He gave me a cunning smile, teeth bared for a moment as there was nothing friendly or sweet about it. 

I could feel my face tensing further at his combative remarks. I knitted my brows together and shook my head from side to side again. He was clearly trying to piss me off, and it was working. He knew exactly what to say to push my buttons. I wasn’t even going to attempt to understand why he was being like this, it simply hurt too much. I didn’t want to engage in an argument. I just wanted to protect myself from more pain.  

Anna chuckled as she leaned in to break the intense stare that I was giving Dieter, “Damn, you’re a feisty one, aren’t you.” 

I gave her a tight smile wrapped up in thinly veiled contempt. “I suggest that you don’t fucking speak to me,” I said very quietly, for a moment actually entertaining the thought of punching her in her smug little face.

She backed away slightly and grabbed onto Dieter’s arm, moving so that he was positioned between us. Clearly, my intimidation attempt struck its mark with her. 

My attention was drawn away from them when I heard someone call my name. When I turned, I saw Carrington walking towards me from the entrance of the restaurant. Trying to shift gears, I tried to relax my face and gave him a polite smile as he approached. He looked like he had just stepped off the set of a James Bond film in the expensive tailored suit he was wearing, oozing confidence, and looking just as handsome as I remembered. 

“There you are, I was beginning to think you stood me up,” he said with a joking tone as he leaned in to give me a small kiss on the cheek. “You look nice,” he added as he pulled away with a wide smile on his face, his eyes warm as he gave me a quick once-over. 

“Ethan, thank you! Sorry, I was just catching up with some friends,” I said dryly, glancing back toward Dieter, who was now radiating disdain. His jaw twitched as glared at Carrington, his eyes narrowing and somehow turning even darker as he glanced at Carrington’s hand that now rested on the small of my back. Correcting himself, his eyes quickly moved back up to meet my gaze.

I didn’t flinch as we locked eyes and spoke up, “I guess I’ll see you around. Have a good evening.” 

I gave them both a sarcastic smile. Carrington’s hand stayed on my lower back as he guided me toward the entrance. I may not have wanted to engage in the game that Dieter seemed to play, but part of me enjoyed that it clearly bothered him to see me with another man. A handsome one at that. Even if it was a work meeting, which he didn’t know. 

As we were being led to our table, I had to take a few deep breaths to calm myself. I wasn’t even upset about seeing Dieter, only livid about his attitude and the way he had spoken to me. The waiter seated Carrington and I next to a window toward the front of the restaurant, handing us the menus which we looked at in a comfortable silence. From the corner of my eye, I could see Dieter and Anna were still outside, waiting for their car. She was on her phone, but he had spotted me through the window and just stood there, staring with his hands pushed into his pockets. I tried not to look directly toward him, but that didn’t stop me from peeking over my menu every so often to see if he was still there. Despite all the bravado that had been there earlier, and the confidence with which he had carried himself, he looked like a broken man now. It tugged at my heartstrings as I wished I knew what was going through his mind. I could tell the cocky front he was putting up had diminished to something that resembled hurt or maybe even regret. All the showmanship had left his stance as he seemed to be unaware of what happened around him, Anna even needing to pull him aside when someone tried to walk past them. Luckily, the valet pulled up with their car right after that, so I didn’t have to endure that sight for very long. 

Carrington’s voice tugged me back into the present and out of my thoughts when he spoke up, “I would ask how you’ve been, but I think I may have a general idea of the answer.” 

He gave me a sympathetic look before continuing, “That was him, wasn’t it?” 

I smiled nervously as I glanced down at the table, wondering how much he knew. Probably everything there was to know publicly, be it true or false, “Yes, that was him.” I nodded as I looked back up at him, finding his eyes were as gentle as his voice had been when asking me the question. “I’m sorry my drama made me late and that everyone across the US knows about it, apparently.”   

“Yeah, it was all over the news.” He seemed apologetic about it. “Hard to miss. I wasn’t sure if you needed rescuing or not, so I’m sorry if I interrupted something…”

“Not that I need rescuing…but thank you for that.”  

He laughed, “Yeah, I doubt you do. You're pretty fierce on your own.”  

His eyes stayed focused on my face, briefly dropping down to my lips when I smiled at his comment. I wasn’t sure how to take that, but I felt like he was possibly flirting. We were interrupted by the server coming over to take our order. 

We proceeded with small talk while we waited for our food. He gave me an update on how the company was doing and mentioned the possibility of expanding soon, staying vague on the details. As we chatted, I noticed how attentive he was. Always looking me directly in the eye as I spoke, gesturing subtly to the waiter when he noticed I was low on water. We hadn’t really had a chance to interact outside of a business setting, so it was interesting to see him in a more personal manner and have an easy conversation. I was getting small glimpses of his personality that I hadn’t picked up on before. He was very witty and had a good sense of humor.

Once we started to dig into the main course, he got down to business. 

“Well, I think we’ve run the gambit on small talk. I guess I should get to the reason I wanted to meet with you and stop beating around the bush.” He gave me a nervous smile. I gave him one in return, unsure of where this was going. 

“I talked to Aubrey about this, and she indicated that you may be open to a change, given recent events and she’s supportive of it.” He gave me a small grimace, realizing that may not have been the best opener. 

I smiled and motioned for him to continue. 

“Our Chief Operating Officer will be retiring soon, and we’ll need a replacement. You’re the first person that came to mind for the position. I know, it’s a big change, so I don’t expect an answer now. I do, however, want to let you know that it’ll be a significant raise and we’ll cover the cost of any moving expenses and travel.”   

Whatever I had been expecting from the meeting, this wasn’t it. He had my attention. “How significant?”

“Seven figures, significant.” He gave me a smirk as my eyes widened. 

“COO…I mean, am I even qualified for that?” I laughed in disbelief. 

“Well, you’re already basically telling me how to run my company and saved me a lot of money in the process. I’ve seen you in action. You have a brilliant mind, and your problem-solving skills are unlike anything I’ve ever seen. You’re also really good at handling difficult situations. Why wouldn’t I want that?” 

He wasn’t wrong, he was indeed running his company based on my suggestions. I shook my head in agreement. 

“It would require moving to New York though?” I asked, trying to process the information and what this all would mean for my future. 

“Yes…and no. I would absolutely love for you to join us in New York. In fact, it’s my preference. However, like I said, we’re planning to expand. We’ll be opening another branch in Silicon Valley. I’ll need a COO there as well. Just know that if you choose that location, you’ll be building from the ground up. You’ll be fully involved with all planning. It’ll require you to spend some time in New York while we work out the details, but once everything is set, you would only need to travel occasionally. It also comes with slightly higher pay due to the extra work that’ll be involved.”  

This time I sat with my mouth hanging open in shock, “I don’t even know what to say.”

“I don’t expect an answer right away. We have some time before I need to know.” 

“I mean, it’s not a no. Umm, but I do have a lot to think through.” I reached for my water, taking a deep drink now that my mouth suddenly felt very dry. 

“Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything else,” He took a bite of his food as he studied me, obviously trying to figure out where I stood on the offer. 

He continued to tell me about the many benefits the company offered. He was trying his best to sell it to me. The offer was appealing and something I really needed to consider. We eventually moved on to other non-business related topics. It was nice getting to know him on a more personal level. Time seemed to fly by as we continued to chat, even after our meal was finished. 

We finally decided to call it a night after he insisted on covering the bill. We walked out to collect our vehicles. While we waited, he leaned in to give me a polite goodbye kiss on the cheek, lingering slightly longer than what is socially acceptable. I got a whiff of his musky scent. I couldn’t deny, he smelled amazing. I cleared my throat as he pulled away, trying to correct my train of thought. 

He smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, I lingered. I made it awkward. Forget that happened.” 

We both laughed. I caught myself biting my bottom lip, which seemed to briefly bring his attention back to my mouth again. Fuck. Was I flirting now? Thankfully, we were interrupted by the valet returning with his vehicle. Mine followed behind a few seconds later. 

“We’ll talk soon. Have a good evening,” he finally said as he took his keys and walked toward the driver's side door, giving a charming smile as he went. I agreed and gave him a wave as I collected my keys and moved toward my own car. 

My head was reeling during the entire drive home. I wasn’t sure what just happened, and I had conflicting feelings about the whole thing. Did we have vibes? Were we flirting? Also, what the hell was wrong with me for allowing that to happen? There was no way I could work for him under those circumstances. Not to mention what had happened with Dieter and Anna. I needed to talk through this with Lauren. 

When I got home, I quickly changed into my pajamas, then facetimed Lauren. She didn’t answer. I gave it a few minutes then tried again. She answered on the second round, a surprised look clearly visible on her face despite the dim lighting around her. 

“Talia? Something wrong? Why are you calling me back-to-back?”

“For starters, you signed up for excessive calls when you decided to be my friend,” I reminded her. “Also, don’t get me started on your texting habits.”

“Okay, what the hell has gotten into you?” She laughed as she shook her head, leaning behind her to switch a lamp on, which illuminated the view on my screen considerably. 

“You’re not going to believe how my night has gone. I’m turning the tables; I’m the one that needs life advice.”  

She had an odd look on her face and seemed to be distracted, her eyes trailing off as she looked at something off camera. 

“Hello? Did you hear me?” I was pacing around my bedroom by this point, bursting to spill all the details of what had happened. 

“Yeah, sorry, I heard you. What’s going on?” She seemed to have her focus back on me now. 

I went into all the details of how the evening had gone from start to finish as I continued to pace around my room. I was feeling flustered and anxious about the whole thing the more I thought about it. I wasn’t even sure how to begin to make a decision about the job offer and I was completely avoiding my thoughts on Dieter. While his behavior pissed me off to no end, I couldn’t help but feel hurt all over again. Which was a feeling I didn’t want to acknowledge out of fear that it would send me spiraling all over again.

Lauren sat staring at her phone, wide-eyed. She looked overwhelmed with the word vomit I had just thrown her way.

“Ok, I need a minute to digest all of that,” she finally said. Her attention was again drawn to something else as an exasperated look formed on her face. 

“What the hell are you doing over there? Is somebody there?”

“NO! No, it’s…” She appeared to swat at something before she continued, “it’s a cat. I have a cat. A stray. It’s not staying. It’s kind of an annoying jerk,” she said with a nervous laugh. I wasn’t sure if I bought that. I gave her a skeptical look. 

“So, Dieter really said all of that to you? Seriously?” she asked, quickly changing the subject. 

“Yes, he did. He was a total asshole. He looked like he was on something. He’s like a completely different person.” I shook my head in disbelief.

“Did you ever consider that maybe he’s trying to piss you off on purpose? To push you away?” 

She had a sympathetic look on her face now. 

“Oh, I know he was trying to do it on purpose. I know him well enough to know when he’s putting on a show. He’s just not usually so cruel about it. I don’t know why he’s being like that.” I shrugged, unsure of what else to say.   

“Maybe you should try talking to him again. He’s kind of hardheaded. Perhaps putting some pressure on him might bring him back to his senses.” 

“No, you know what, let’s just not focus on him.” I paused briefly, shaking my head again, “I don’t even want to think about him. He’s made it clear how he feels.” 

“You can’t avoid it forever.” She gave me a pointed look. 

I threw my hand up in frustration as I rolled my eyes, “I’m not avoiding it. I’m accepting the reality of the situation.”   

Lauren rolled her eyes in return, “No, you're locking all those feelings away in a secret room in that pretty little head of yours and pretending they don’t exist. I know how you are. You’re both so fucking stubborn.”

I was taken aback by how blunt she was being. That was usually my role. 

“Ok, whatever. Can we talk about Carrington now? What should I do about that? I mean, if I take the position in Silicon Valley, I wouldn’t really have to see him once things got settled. So, if there were vibes, it would be a non-issue, right?” I drew my brows down together as I contemplated that choice. 

Lauren sighed heavily before she responded, “Look, I can’t tell you what to do about that. All I can say is don’t make a choice based on a man. Any man. You’ve wasted too much of your life doing that. Don’t take the job just because you want to get away from Dieter and don’t not take it because this Carrington guy may or may not have been flirting with you. You do what you want, then we will deal with what comes after.” 

She was very matter of fact in her response. Even though that wasn’t the answer I wanted, I knew she was right. I needed to remove the men from the equation and figure out what I really wanted. Lauren spoke up again, pulling me from my thoughts, “Sorry to cut it short, but I gotta go. I need to feed this cat, so he’ll chill out.” She was fighting a smile. 

“Why do I feel like you're talking in code about something else?” I gave her a confused look as she started to laugh. 

“Oh, gotta go. We'll talk tomorrow. Bye.” 

She did not even give me a chance to say bye before hanging up, “What the hell was that about?” I shook my head as I set my phone down on the docking station. There was definitely something going on; her behavior during the call was kind of bizarre, so was the excuse about the stray cat. As if I needed something else to wonder about.   

I decided to finish getting ready for bed after that. Even though my mind was racing with so many different thoughts brought on by the day’s events, I was happy to settle in for the night. I laid there for some time, waiting for the melatonin to kick in. It seemed like it took a little longer than normal, but sleep did finally take me. 

Two weeks after my dinner with Carrington, I still hadn’t decided. Luckily, he was understanding and said I still had some time to think about it. Lauren was still being weird and dodging questions. I had reached a point that I didn’t care what she was up to. If she wanted me to know, she would tell me. I already had too many things on my plate to worry about. Of course, the universe still wasn’t satisfied with my long list of troubles and decided to add to it.

I was sitting on the couch, attempting to read a book in between my spells of wandering thoughts, when the doorbell rang. To my surprise, it was Gabby. We hadn’t talked at all since news got out that Dieter and I were no longer together. She would send the occasional text to check in on me, but that’s it. Honestly, it was too hard for me to talk to her. It only made me miss him and the life we were building together even more. 

Gabby greeted me with a tight hug. When she pulled away, I could see the worry in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry to just barge in on you, but I wanted to talk to you in person.”

She gave me a nervous smile as I waved her in and led her over to sit on the couch. She had a tentative look on her face as she asked me how I was doing. 

“I’m actually ok. I’ve just been keeping busy and focusing on work mostly.” It was hard to meet her gaze, because I knew that if I did, I wouldn’t be able to hold it together. Her eyes reminded me of her brother’s, which seemed to unearth the raw emotion that I had managed to keep locked away thus far. It was all simmering under the surface for me, and I knew it wouldn’t take much for it to start peeking its ugly little head out of its hidden room.

“Have you seen any of the gossip sites lately?” She started to rub her hands against her thighs, clearly nervous to bring up the topic of her brother. 

“Uhm, no. I try to avoid all that stuff these days. I don’t want to know what your brother is up to.” My chest tightened at the mere thought of him. I rubbed my shoulder with my right hand, trying to remain calm and grounded. It was impossible though. 

Gabby sighed heavily, “Talia, it’s getting bad,” she said, and I could hear how upset she was. “Every other night he’s out partying with Anna, and he’s gotten into several confrontations with random people at bars and clubs. He isn’t acting like himself at all. I think he’s using something, but I don’t know what it is. We tried to talk to him about it and now he won’t even speak to us. I’m really worried about him.”     

I could feel her eyes on me as I stared at a random painting on the wall. Focusing on the swirls of color and different brush strokes to distract myself from what I was feeling. 

“I’m not sure why you’re telling me this. I can’t do anything about it. He’s made it pretty clear how he feels.” 

“I don’t know what his fucking problem is, but he loves you. I know he does. We could all see it. I think he would listen to you if you would just talk to him.”  She had an edge to her voice as she spoke. She never took her eyes off me. I briefly glanced over at her. The fear in her eyes nearly broke me. I could feel the tears forming in my eyes as I looked back toward the painting. 

“I tried Gabby. The night he called and ended it... I had a flight booked for the next day and he told me not to come. He lost his shit when I asked him if he was on drugs. He doesn’t want to talk to me.” 

She reached over and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly, “You should have gone anyway. I really think if he sees you in person, he’ll listen.”

“I saw him… Two weeks ago. He was an asshole and made it pretty clear that he didn’t want to speak to me.” 

I let out a shuddered breath as I looked down at our hands. Telling her that I couldn’t do anything to stop her brother from hurting himself was one of the hardest things I had ever had to do. 

“Maybe if we all tried. I’m pretty sure he has blocked everyone at this point, but we could all show up at his house and talk to him.”  Her voice was strained. I could tell she was trying to keep her emotions in check as much as I was. 

“Gabby, I just don’t think you can help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.”

I looked up at her and watched as she knitted her brows together at my words. A mixture of frustration and anguish written all over her face. 

“You’re not even gonna try?” 

“I can’t,” I said quietly. The tears finally spilled down my cheeks. 

She shook her head from side to side, not understanding where I was coming from.

“Why not?” 

“Because…if I give in, he’ll completely consume me. And if I can’t get through to him, then you’ll lose both of us. I know I won’t be able to come back from it and that scares the hell out of me.”

I could see the fight drain out of her body as she took in what I was saying. I cleared my throat. 

“I guess I should probably tell you, I’ve uhm...been offered another job. I have a choice of going to New York or Silicon Valley. I haven’t made my final decision yet, but I’m leaning toward accepting one of them.”

She couldn’t hold back her tears any longer, “You guys are really over, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah, I think so.” I shook my head in agreement. The tears were now blurring my vision as I felt my face tighten. I gave up on trying to hold it back. She pulled me in for another tight hug.

“I want you to know that I still consider you to be part of this family. I don’t want you to forget that. I’m still holding out hope that fate will bring you guys back together somehow. I’m convinced you two are meant to be.”    

I pulled away, giving her a small smile as I thanked her for being there for me when she didn’t have to be. She left soon after that with promises to keep in touch. After she was gone, I laid down on the couch. I stared at the ceiling for who knows how long, completely disassociating. Once I finally came back to my thoughts, I couldn’t help but to question every decision I was making. I felt lost and now I had the added concerns of Dieter’s wellbeing. I had managed to ignore that piece of the puzzle thus far by isolating myself from the knowledge of what he was doing. Now that I was aware, it was going to be hard continuing to ignore it.

A/N: Happy Friday y'all! How are we feeling about asshole Dieter? That was some seriously rude things to say to poor Talia. How about that dinner with Carrington and his offer (and maybe flirting)? And what the hell is Lauren up to? Also, Gabby is seriously breaking my heart right now. So, just another warning...the next chapter is going to be A LOT. When I say they hit rock bottom, I mean it. It's all (slowly) uphill after that though... Chapter 24 is complete and currently with my beta. I'll post the teaser on Monday. The chapter will come as soon as we are done with final edits. 💜

Lastly, everyone give a big thank you to @for-a-longlongtime for her excellent beta skills. She never fails to take things up a notch.

Sound off about your thoughts and feelings for this chapter. You know it gives me life. 😉 As usual, I have included the mood board for this chapter below.

Next Chapter

Tag List: @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @for-a-longlongtime @hisandsnakes @chaoticfestninja @survivingandenduring @partyofone3413 @cakipy-blog @titlee78 @poodlebae @guelyury @weho2kcmo @missladym1981 @maried01 @alokaerza @samiamproductions @misstokyo7love @themonadiaries-blog @madnessofadaydreamer @pedrostories

Let me know in the comments below if you would like to be added to the tag list.

[whatsnewalycat]

wake & bake

pairing: dieter bravo x ofc louella

Summary: You have a virtual smoke session with your new friend and secret crush, Dieter Bravo.

Rating: Mature (see warnings)

Content Tags/Warnings: video chat, smoking weed & getting high, swearing, fluff, flirting, pet names, attempts at jokes, primal scream, crush

Word Count: 2.1k+

Notes: Hi there! This takes place in the Psychomanteum storyline between chapters 2 & 3. I think it can be read as a one shot with the context that’s given but idk. You do need to know is that Louella/Lua, our OFC and second person POV, bakes and sells edibles, bc I don’t think that’s super clear in the text. Ok thanks have a great day 🖤✨

You settle into the middle of your bed, crossing your legs as you glance around and take inventory. 

Lighter. Joint. Ashtray. Water bottle. Laptop. 

Your emerald green curtains billow and rustle when a crisp spring breeze rolls through the bedroom. The air carries the latent, earthy scent of decay and new growth from the park across the street. A shiver weaves its way up your back, so you pull the throw blanket draped around your waist up onto your shoulders like a cape. 

Despite the chill, your hands are hot pads. You press one palm to your cheek and grimace at how fast it heats you. It’s stupid to be so nervous about this. He’s just a person. 

Just a really amusing, really sweet, stupidly handsome person. 

That also happens to be famous. Which is a fact you can’t dwell on for too long before it starts to make you queasy. So, for the purposes of this conversation, you decide to omit it from your brain. 

Just a guy. 

You take a deep breath and wipe your sweaty palms on your pants, then click Join Meeting. 

A few moments go by before Dieter’s face pops up on the screen. He looks like he just crawled out of bed. His face is all puffy from sleep and his chestnut curls are sticking up every which way.

Upon seeing him, your heart starts thudding in your throat. 

He mumbles some kind of greeting while rubbing one eye and yawning, then pulls the camera back to wave at you, revealing that he’s shirtless. The video blurs and shifts like he’s en route, and you see bits and pieces of what you assume is his house in the background. 

“Good morning, sunshine!” you call, waving to the camera, probably a little too enthusiastic. 

“Good morning, beautiful,” he croaks out, voice all groggy, “Sorry, just woke up, give me a sec.”

He sets the phone down on a flat surface, giving you a view of his ceiling as he pours a cup of coffee. 

“I’ll give you all the secs you need,” you tease, and immediately cringe at yourself. But you hear a robust laugh echo through, what you assume is, his kitchen. A proud smile stretches across your face. 

“That was good,” he grins as he picks the phone up and tucks a joint behind his ear, then grabs a steaming coffee cup. The background starts moving again as he walks through the house, “How’re you doing today, doll?”

“Busy,” you fiddle with the joint, twirling its paper tip to a point, “I’ve been up since like 3:00.”

“Pretty sure that’s when I went to sleep,” he tells you with a little chuckle, “S’pose it’s like… stoner Christmas, huh? Big day in the biz.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty nuts,” you laugh, then shrug, “Keeps the lights on, though, so I’m not complaining. Parker is gonna come over in a bit and help me with the orders going out this afternoon.”

“Oh, Parker, what a guy,” Dieter smiles, opening a sliding glass door that drenches him in sunlight.

“He’s the best,” you smirk, then look up at the laptop screen and sigh, “What’re your plans for today?”

“Eh,” he shrugs, then groans as he sits down in a white patio couch, “Little of this, little of that. Gonna meet up with some people later and go to a party.” 

“Fun,” you say, trying to picture the kind of LA parties he frequents. Your imagination makes them out to be glamorous and wild. Expensive champagne, models, celebrities, drugs galore. After looking around your small bedroom, you blow a raspberry, then ask, “Well, shall we?” 

Dieter hums and plucks the joint out from behind his ear. He closes his lips around the cardboard tip, talking around it, “We shall.” 

You follow his lead, holding your joint between your lips, then raise a lighter to the business end, pulling a few quick puffs before you toss the lighter aside. Thick, skunky smoke expands your lungs. You exhale towards the window and cough a little as THC dissipates through your body, making you feel light and buoyant. 

“What’re the parties like out there?” you ask, taking another long drag. The pot starts to smooth your nervous edges and mellow you out. 

He grunts and pulls a pair of sunglasses over his eyes, then shrugs, “Bullshit. Buncha phonies trying to one up each other.” 

“Ok, Holden Caulfield,” you snort, and it earns a howl of laughter from him that makes you smile. 

“No, but really,” he takes a drag off his joint and holds the smoke captive as he tells you, “I don’t find people like you and Parker out here,” he exhales fully, coughing a little, “Or anywhere, really. That party was the most fun I’ve had in years.” 

“Bullshit,” you laugh. 

“Seriously!” He grins and clambers up in his seat, leaning forward, “I’ve done acid so many goddamn times at so many parties. And it’s always a big group of people talking over each other, trying so hard to be profound, or have a fuckin’, uhhh, spiritual experience or whatever,” he waves his hands about as he talks, pausing to take a hit. Smoke muffles his voice when he tells you, “But they’re all so fucking soulless and shallow, I can’t stand it. I usually either end up leaving to trip alone or take other shit to make it more tolerable.”

You giggle nervously, “That sounds… I dunno, like a bad fucking time, man.”

He chuckles, then murmurs, “Anyway,” sitting back in his seat, “What’s, uhhh… what’s your scene, what kind of parties do you usually go to?” 

“Uhhhhh,” you croak as you think about this, then frown at the ceiling as you take a hit off your joint and exhale, “I guess I really don’t? I go to bars more than parties, I guess, but I usually just go there to get laid.”

He smiles wide and brings a palm to his chest, “A girl after my own heart.” 

You giggle as heat creeps through your body, up your neck, “I mean, I can drink and smoke at home. But dick? I have to outsource dick—”

Dieter’s laughter is all you can hear. He leans forward and pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

“Pussy, too, but dick is much easier to find,” you tell him in a joking way, even though it’s not a joke, “It’s just not the same alone, you know? 

“That’s absolutely true,” he chuckles, wiping his eyes as his laughter dies down, “I like you, you’re funny.”

“Hey, I like you too,” you beam, tilting your head to the side. It’s quiet for a moment as you study each other’s face through the screen conduit. You take another drag off your joint, averting your gaze to the window, then blow a thick plume of smoke towards it. 

“I have a question,” you tell him, flicking your eyes back to the screen. 

“What?” he tucks a hand under his head and lays out on his outdoor couch. 

“Do you ever have these urges to do something crazy? And, like, wonder how people around you would react?” 

“Like what?”

“Like,” you toss your head back and forth, “Like what would you do if I just took my clothes off right now, or—“

“I would die of joy, can we try that one?” he grins. 

“No,” you snort, then cover your face as it starts to heat, “It was just an example!”

“Uh huh. You came up with it really fast,” he observes, then takes a drag from his joint. 

“And you responded to it really fast,” you counter, raising an eyebrow, crushing the orange cherry of your joint into the ashtray on your knee. 

“Obviously,” Dieter scoffs and shrugs, “I would love to see you naked.” 

Your whole head is a heat lamp and your face hurts from smiling. You lick your lips and smirk, “I am very flattered. But, hear me out—”

“We both take our clothes off,” he suggests, his shoulders shaking with stifled laughter, “That’s such a good idea!”

“I am going to murder you, Dee,” you laugh, covering your face. 

“Ok, no seriously, go ahead,” he snickers, glancing over to extinguish his spent joint in an off-screen ashtray.

You sigh and pause for a beat before confessing, “I wanna scream. Like, as loud as I can.”

He smirks and opens his mouth, tilting his head to the side. 

Before he can quip a sexual innuendo and fluster you further, you explain, “I’ve felt it in my chest for so long. The scream, I mean. Like it’s just sitting in there begging to be let out. Do you know what I’m talking about? Do you ever feel like that?”

The devilish smirk on his lips falters. He nods, “Yeah, I have.”

“I want to let it out, but I’m always so scared of what my neighbors will think,” you tell him, searching his face hundreds of miles away, “And sometimes I think, what if I just said fuck it and did it? Just screamed as loud and long as I could? What would happen?”

“Well, fuck it, let’s do it,” he decides, and the camera jostles as he rises to his feet, “Let’s fuckin’ scream our little hearts out, huh? See what happens.”

You smile, “Really?”

“Fuck yeah, come on,” he says, “You gotta stand, though, really let it out.” 

“Ok,” you laugh and set your ashtray aside, then roll off your bed, pulling your laptop to the edge so he can see you standing at your window, “Ready?”

“Alright, on three,” he calls, and you wriggle your body around, trying to psych yourself up, shaking your hands out as he counts, “1, 2, 3–“

You inhale until your lungs ache, then let it out. 

The red, hot feeling of disquiet that has been restless inside your chest for months scrapes against your vocal chords, burning your throat. 

While you’re doing this, you hear Dieter through the laptop speakers, screaming in unison with you, unrestrained, primal. 

You bend over to fully expunge this guttural, animalistic noise from your body. You scream until your face is filled with blood and your heartbeat pounds in your ears. Until your throat is throbbing and your voice is hoarse. Until your lungs are empty and nothing else comes out. 

Then you turn around to the laptop, searching Dieter’s flushed face. You’re both smiling wide and wild, chests heaving. 

“That was fucking awesome,” he tells you, chuckling and shaking his head, “You did great.”

“So did you,” you grin, “Good job screaming.” 

A frantic knock sounds on your door. 

“Oh shit,” you cover your face and giggle, looking up towards the noise, “Someone’s knocking.”

“Probably making sure you’re alive,” you hear Dieter say as you carry the laptop into the kitchen. You set it on the countertop before opening the door. 

“Hi,” you answer breathlessly to the wide eyes of your next door neighbor, “I’m fine.” 

“Oh—ok, I was just making sure—”

“Yeah, I just—you know, you ever just feel like screaming?” you try to explain. 

She shakes her head and stammers, “Um, no. But—but you’re ok, right?”

“I’m perfect, it felt really good,” you tell her, and you can hear Dieter’s laughter over the laptop, “Thank you for checking on me, though. I appreciate it.” 

“Sure,” she nods, then starts to walk away, glancing back over her shoulder as she goes.

You close the door and lock it, then burst out in giggles as you go back to the laptop, seeing Dieter smiling from ear-to-ear. 

He tells you, “That was adorable.”

“That was my neighbor thinking I’ve fully fucking lost my mind,” you snort, then glance up at the the clock on your oven, “Fuck, I have to get back to work.” 

He gives you a thumbs down and jeers, “Boooooo!”

The thought of him not wanting this call to end yet makes your insides twist. You roll your eyes playfully, “It’s been lovely smoking and screaming with you.”

“Waking and baking with you has been a delight, Lua, we should do it again soon,” he smiles, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah?” you beam, licking your lips before asking, “Do you mean that?”

“Obviously,” he scoffs, and you’re sort of glad you can’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses when his voice softens and he tells you, “Really, Lua. I’d love to do this again. I’m not just saying that.”

“Ok,” you grin like a fool and nod, “I would love to do this again, too.” 

“I’ll let you get to it. Tell Parker I said hi give him a bit ole smooch for me, will ya?” 

“I will,” you wave,” Bye, Dee.”

He kisses his hand and presses it to the camera, then says, “Talk to you soon, doll.” 

[deakyjoe]

Puppy Love

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Reader (she/her pronouns used)

Category: Friends to lovers, neighbours to lovers, fluff

Summary: Your neighbour Dieter's dog is the only comfort you need during stressful days. Well, maybe her and her owner.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of suicidal thoughts, a sick dog, hints of depression, it's mainly just fluff, idiots in love, flashback in italics

Word count: 6.3k (This was originally supposed to be a few hundred words of really basic pure fluff but it turned into a few thousand words with an actual storyline?? Who knew I was capable of that?)

A/N: This is soooo self indulgent because I was feeling down and looking at that photo of Pedro as Dieter with the baby goat. I didn’t think it was realistic for him to have a pet goat so I changed it to a dog. Called Frankie. (Named after Pedro’s character in Triple Frontier…) In hindsight, a cat would’ve made more sense but now it’s too late. He’s kind of out of character so imagine it’s him pre-fame. This isn’t my best work but decided to publish anyway since I put some effort into it.

You knocked on Dieter's door frantically. You'd just had the worst possible day imaginable. You'd slept through your alarm, broken a heel on the way to work, then your train was late and to top it all off your boss was in a terrible mood and took all of his frustrations out on you.

You'd trekked home in the rain which was just the icing on a shitty day, immediately walking past your apartment to go to Dieter's instead. It was sort of an unspoken arrangement the two of you had that neither of you could remember starting or even how it had started. All you knew is that it had been happening years, ever since you moved into the building really. If you'd had a bad day then you'd go over to his to have a cuddle with his dog, Frankie, whilst talking it over with Dieter. And if he'd had a bad day then he'd come over to yours and eat something you'd either baked or cooked, whichever was most recent.

Normally, you'd go to yours first in order to get changed and dump your work stuff but today was especially bad. Bad enough to force you out of that ritual and to go straight to his instead. You continued knocking, not stopping until you heard him on the other side of the door.

"Okay, okay! Calm down!" He swung open the door and his eyes landed on you, drenched from the rain and on the verge of crying. He didn't even need to greet you. "Need Frankie?"

You nodded, your bottom lip trembling. "Please."

"Come on in then." He opened the door wider and stepped to the side, quietly ushering you in and closing it behind you. "She's in her usual spot on the couch.”

"Thank you." You mumbled to him before speed walking into the next room to find Frankie curled up on the end of the sofa. You approached her carefully, not wanting to disturb her too much and took a tentative seat next to her, reaching out to stroke softly down her back as you dropped your bag to the floor. "Hey, sweetie."

Frankie sleepily blinked her eyes open, took one look at you and crawled over to sit in your lap, leaning her head on your chest before she went back to sleep. There was sort of a bond between you and Frankie, one that even Dieter envied. He supposed it was because Frankie just seemed to understand when you were feeling sad so became the ultimate cuddle machine, perfect for you to find comfort in.

Dieter watched the two of you from the doorway, smiling to himself at the sight. His two favourite girls cuddled up together on his sofa. "I'll make coffee." He said before walking through to the kitchen, not giving you a chance to reply.

You barely noticed what he had said, just humming blindly in agreement as you cradled the dog closer to your chest, burying your face in the soft fur of her head. Blinking back tears, you kick off your shoes and crossed your legs underneath yourself, careful not to disturb the sleeping canine in your arms.

Dieter returned after a couple of minutes, a cup of coffee in each hand that he put down on the table before sitting next to you on the couch. He watched you for a moment, clearly trying to hold back tears as you cuddled the life out of his dog. He'd never seen you this bad. And he'd been with you through your best and worst days.

"Want to talk about it?" He asked, clearing his throat and shifting towards you a little, placing his arm on the back of the couch behind you.

"Not really." You sighed and leaned your head against his shoulder, a new development that surprised him. No matter how much you cuddled Frankie, you and him had never gone past a brief hug at the end of the night or a quick kiss on the cheek if you decided to venture out and go to a bar instead of staying in for the night.

He didn't protest to it though, instead wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him so you were practically invited to snuggle into his side. An eruption of butterflies fluttered through his stomach when you let out a content hum before completely relaxing against him. Dieter decided to fully commit to the extremely friendly situation and leant his own head on top of yours, subtly inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

"Did you just sniff me?" You croaked out, half laughing.

Okay, maybe not so subtle then.

He hesitated before answering. "...No..."

You giggled which was music to his ears after seeing you so down, quietly apologising when you disturbed Frankie from her slumber with your rumbling chest. "Sorry, sweetie, sorry. Just go back to sleep. That's it. Sshhh..."

"You're so good with her." Dieter blurted out, not being able to stop his brain before the words spilt out of his mouth.

"How could I not be? She's my best girl. And the reason I'm not diving off a cliff right now. Plus she's too sweet not to love. How could anyone not be good with her?" You said the last bit in a higher pitched tone since Frankie had begun to stir again already and looked up at you with big puppy-dog eyes that made you melt in the middle.

"You'd be surprised how many people aren't so kind to her." It made Dieter's heart ache to hear you mention the desire to jump off a cliff but he didn't know how serious you were about it. "Is it really that bad?"

"What?" You sat up slightly, briefly glancing at him before you turned back to bumping your nose against Frankie's and stroking her floppy ears.

"Do you really want to dive off a cliff?" He whispered the question, almost careful as to not upset you even more.

You seemed to ponder it for a moment before shaking your head. "No. Not anymore at least. I do remember a time when it was that bad but it hasn't been that way for a while now."

"Oh, that's good." He nodded at you, not noticing the smile you gave him as you looked back at the dog on your lap. "You would come to me though, wouldn't you? If it ever did get that bad again, right?"

"Of course, Dieter." You scoffed as if it were obvious. "You're my best friend. Well, besides Frankie of course."

You both grinned at that, the two of you turning your attention to the dog in question.

"You hear that, Frankie? She loves you more than she loves me! Can you believe that? And after I've let her into my home! The audacity!" He ruffled the top of her head and tugged on her ears gently.

"Well, how could I possibly ever love someone more than I love the bestest and most adorable dog in the world? Isn't that right, Frankie? Are you the best?" You got a sniffle back in reply which you could only assume meant agreement. "Exactly. It's only logical that I love you most. Although, Dieter is a very close second."

Dieter listened to you continue to whisper nonsense to his dog, his heart picking up pace in his chest at the sight of it. His body ached with how much he loved you, the pain of it only increasing as he watched you interact with the most important thing in his life. It was almost too perfect to be real. And that's exactly what it was because it suddenly dawned on him that he didn't actually have you. You were just his neighbour. Not his girlfriend, not his fiancée, not his wife. His neighbour. And that stung.

The night passed by in a flash and soon enough you were saying your goodbyes to Frankie, peppering kisses all over her face as you collected your stuff from the floor. Dieter watched you with a feeling of emptiness in his chest. He longed to ask you to stay the night. He longed to kiss you, to ask you out on a proper date. But he knew he shouldn't. Not only had you known each other for years that it would seem strange now, but you were also his neighbour and if it didn't work out then it would lead to a very awkward relationship of polite nods in the hallway and nothing else. He couldn't risk what you already had going. Spending evenings together as you cuddled his dog would have to suffice for now.

"Thanks as always, Dieter. I still appreciate this." You said as you walked towards his front door.

"No problem. I'm always here to help... Well, Frankie is actually but you get me." He ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly on the roots as he cursed himself for seeming so awkward suddenly.

Luckily, you just laughed him off. "Give my thanks to Frankie as well then, won't you?"

"Hmm? Oh, ahaha yes." He wanted to punch himself for being so out of it but he couldn't help it. A million thoughts were running through his mind. Every single one of them involving you. Majority of them involving you and him. "Hey, I've got an audition next week and I'm bound to fuck it up."

"I'll make sure to have something prepared, don't worry." You opened his front door and turned to look at him. "Any special requests?"

"Nah, I'm sure anything you make will be perfect." He winced at his poor attempt at flirting. When did it get so difficult?

"You flatter me, Bravo." You stood on the tip of your toes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight, Dieter. Don't let the bed bugs bite."

"Goodnight." He said it in a breathy voice, almost lightheaded at the feeling of your lips against his skin.

You just smiled at him before leaving his apartment and walking down to your own, closing the door behind you on the way out. Dieter made his way back to the lounge, scooped Frankie up into his arms and walked into his bedroom. Not even bothering to brush his teeth or get changed, he collapsed on his bed, careful not to squish his dog, and switched off the lamp as he let out a loud groan.

"You get it. Don't you, Frankie? You understand why I love her so much, right?" He asked the canine but received a blank look in return making him bury his face in the pillows. "Of course you do. The two of you are practically best buds. So you understand why I feel this way about her."

Frankie didn't even make a sound in response, just crawled up the length of the bed and plopped down to cuddle into Dieter’s side before dropping off into yet another deep sleep. He looked at her with a smile before shortly following her example and falling asleep next to her.

It wasn't even a week later that you were rapidly banging on Dieter’s door again, this time with a box of cookies under one arm. You'd had another shit day at work, not as bad as the one a few days prior but still pretty awful. Since it was so soon since your last visit to Dieter's you decided to take something with you to compensate. Your most recent baking venture being an assortment of cookies you'd stress-made the night before.

You were about to start knocking again when the door opened and Dieter looked down at you with a sad expression.

"What's the matter?" You asked him before he could even invite you in.

"Frankie's not here." He whispered, clearly upset by it. "She got sick so I took her to the vet."

"Is she okay?" You were immediately worried. Frankie meant more to you than you could ever put into words and the prospect of her not being alright set you on edge.

"Yeah, she's fine. They just wanted to keep her in observation overnight just in case." He ran a hand down his face and sighed. "I assume that's why you're here. For Frankie cuddles."

He added a light tone to the end of his sentence but you could tell he wasn't as fine as he was letting on. And you couldn't blame him. His dog was sick.

"Dieter, are you okay?" You asked tentatively, tilting your head to the side in question. Despite mainly going to his place for his dog, you cared deeply for him. More than you'd ever let on. He really was your best friend and you only wanted him to be happy.

"Yeah, I'm... good." He hesitated before finishing the sentence, knowing he didn't sound the least bit convincing. "Sorry Frankie's not here to comfort you though."

"Don't worry about it. Her well-being is more important." You waved it off and suddenly remembered the box tucked under your arm. "Oh! I brought you these. Fresh from like... two this morning." You held it out to him with a warm smile, the kind that set his heart on fire.

"Thank you." He took the box from your grasp, seeming to think about something for a moment before he opened his door slightly wider. "I'm no Frankie but I'm sure I'm an okay cuddler. If you want."

He appeared shy about the offer, not surprising given he'd never suggested something like this before. It took the both of you aback about how he'd just come out and said it and not beat around the bush about it. A light blush spread across your cheeks, the skin getting hot at the idea but nonetheless you nodded your head in agreement anyway.

"I'm sure you're a great cuddler." You said before stepping past him and into his flat, thankful that you'd actually gone home first to change into some more comfortable clothes this time. As much as cuddling with Dieter sounded delightful, it would most definitely be ruined by your work attire.

Dieter followed behind you awkwardly, stunned that you'd actually agreed to come in and... cuddle with him? Was this really about to happen? If it was, he could fly over the moon with delight. He'd been dreaming about this for years. Something so simple and silly could be something so extremely significant for him, it was wonderful in his eyes.

"How'd you want to do this?" You asked, suddenly spinning around to face him. "Only I really need a hug and I'm not in the mood for discussing cuddle arrangements for ten minutes.

He was caught off guard by your abruptness, placing the box of cookies down on his coffee table. How were you supposed to do this? Dieter looked at his couch, it was too small for the two of you to properly be comfortable without practically lying on top of each other. He thought it over in his head for a moment, noticing your growing restlessness out of the corner of his eye. He didn't want to keep you waiting so he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Bedroom!"

"Excuse me?" You raised your eyebrows at him, confused by the outburst. Had he just suggested going to his bedroom?

Dieter cleared his throat and repeated himself. "I think my couch is too small for the two of us so, if you're okay with it, we could go to my bedroom and use my bed instead. I swear the sheets are clean. I changed them yesterday."

You wanted to laugh at him, he was all awkward and blushy and it was a beautiful sight. But you held off on the laugh and just nodded instead. "I'd love that. Thank you."

He nodded in return, once again surprised by your easy agreement. "Right. Let's... let's go then."

"Lead the way." You gestured your arm in the direction of the short hallway leading to his bedroom. You'd never been inside, the furthest you'd ventured in his home being the bathroom. So this was all new for you. New and exciting.

He walked ahead of you to his bedroom, opening the door and allowing you to go in first. "Make yourself comfortable."

"Which side of the bed is yours?" You asked as he shut his bedroom door, glancing around his room to take it in. A couple framed pictures on the walls and books scattered on the floor really summed him up well.

"Uh... neither really. I sort of sleep in the middle. Why?" He sat on the edge of the bed, opposite to the side you were standing on.

You shrugged. "Thought it'd be easier for me to be on whichever side you don't like. Now you've made it complicated by being a middle of the bed sleeper."

He laughed and shook his head at you, amazed by your consideration for his feelings in this moment. "How about I just lay down how I normally would and you get yourself comfortable around me from that? Sound good?"

"Sounds great." You agreed, watching him crawl up the length of the bed before he collapsed against the pillows.

Dieter adjusted himself for a moment before looking at you with an expectant smile.

"Comfortable?" You asked with a slightly mocking tone, struggling to keep your adoration for him hidden.

"Extremely." He wanted to add on that he'd be even more comfortable with you next to him but refrained from it. He didn't know how far was too far. "You ready for this?"

"Extremely." You repeated back to him before sliding onto the bed beside him. The two of you hesitated for a moment, just staring at each other, before he opened his arms and gestured for you to lean against him.

"I don't bite. I swear." He said softly, giving you his most reassuring smile.

You shook your head at him playfully, finding him ridiculous. "I'm not worried about that." You sighed and fell into his embrace, the two of you immediately locking together and sinking back against the mattress.

"What are you worried about then?" He asked, trying not to freak out about how the two of you just seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces, like you were destined for one another. "You can tell me anything."

"I know." You hummed, shutting your eyes out of instinct. "I trust you more than anyone. I'm not worried just... we haven't done this before. It's new."

"Is that a bad thing?" He croaked out, worry rising in his throat that maybe you weren't as into this as he was. But how could you not be? It just seemed so perfect.

"Not at all." You fought the urge to look up at him, deciding to keep your head buried against his chest so as to not ruin the moment. "You're a great cuddler."

Dieter felt his heart whoosh through his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut. "Better than Frankie?" Better to play it off jokingly than assume anything from you or make it awkward.

"Nobody's better than Frankie." You tightened your grip around him, feeling your eyelids growing heavy. "But you're a good contender."

"Happy to be second place." He felt your breathing even out and knew that you were falling asleep. Without moving too much so as to not disturb you, he reached for the blanket at the end of his bed and tugged it over the two of you, careful not to cover your face.

Dieter listened to your soft snores for about half an hour, having you shift against him every so often but never moving too far away from him. Wondering how he got so lucky as to have you as his neighbour, he revelled in that small piece of happiness for a while before eventually falling into his own deep sleep.

The two of you were awoken the next morning by Dieter's phone ringing on the bedside table. You both groaned in annoyance at the early hour but both perked up when you saw it was the vet's calling.

"Hello?" He croaked into the phone, worry lacing his tone. You couldn't blame him. His dog was sick and the vet had called early. That didn't bode well.

Only able to hear one side of the conversation, you leant your head against Dieter's shoulder and kept a grip on his arm. Just to let him know you were there for him if he needed it.

Luckily, he didn't seem to need comforting since he let out a sigh of relief about thirty seconds into the phone call. "That's great news. Thanks. Yeah, I'll come pick her up now. Okay. Bye."

"All good?" You asked once he placed his phone back down.

"Yeah, she's fine." He smiled at you, obviously happy that Frankie was alright. "Sorry to cut this short and give you an early morning but I've got to go pick her up..."

You placed a hand on his to reassure him. "It's okay. I understand. Go bring your girl home. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to be back here."

He appeared to ponder something for a moment. "Could you come with me to pick her up?"

"Of course." You smiled at him before glancing down at your clothes. "Let me just go get changed first and then I'll be back. I'll be really quick. I promise."

"Alright." He nodded at you in return before deciding that he should probably do the same, both of you having wrinkled clothes from being in such close proximity all night.

So the two of you disappeared to your separate places to get ready before you met up again in the building's hallway, the both of you grinning like idiots at each other.

"Ready?"

"Extremely."

You drove to the vet's in silence, you could tell he was anxious about Frankie's condition so you didn't want to push him too far if he wasn't in the mood to talk. It didn't bother you too much but you were itching to talk about the night you just spent cuddling in his bed. It wasn't exactly a regular occurrence.

When you got to the surgery, you headed straight to the front desk and Dieter gave all of his information over, desperate to see his girl.

"Well, Mr Bravo, your girlfriend can go through and pick up Frankie whilst you fill out the paperwork." The receptionist offered you both a friendly smile, holding out a pen to Dieter.

"Oh, she's not my-" He started to protest but you cut him off, it was easier to just go along with it than explain your situation.

"That sounds great, thank you." You shot a look at him to tell him it was fine before turning back to the woman. "Which room is she in?"

"Just down the hall in room four."

"Thanks. I'll be back in a minute." You directed the last bit at Dieter before pushing your way through the double doors to collect Frankie.

The actor watched you go before sighing to himself and turning back to the paperwork in front of him. He groaned quietly, clicked the pen against his thigh and scribbled his signature along the bottom line.

The receptionist reached across the desk and tapped another line at the bottom. "We'll also need your girlfriend to sign the form."

He frowned and looked up at her. "Why?"

She shrugged. "It's policy. And you also put her down as an emergency contact. That is her, right?"

He nodded and read over where he'd hastily written your name the previous day as the person to contact if the vet was unable to get ahold of him. He hadn't even really thought about it, you were just the automatic choice.

Before he could think about it too much, you came back into the waiting area with a sleeping Frankie in your arms. Dieter practically melted at the sight.

"Apparently she didn't have a very good night so they gave her something to relax so she'll be very sleepy for the next few hours." You whispered to him, carefully handing her over. "Vet said she should be fine though and it was just a virus that's been going around recently. She probably caught it from another dog at the park."

"Oh, Frankster. What did those peasant dogs from the park do to you?" He hugged the dog tight to his chest and resisted the urge to cry, briefly gesturing at the reception desk. "They- uh... they need you to sign one of the forms."

"Sure." You turned back to the woman and had her point out where you needed to sign, giving a small smile to the sight of your name on the emergency contact list. Once you were done you thanked her and guided Dieter out of the surgery, letting him continue mumbling words of love to his dog. "Dieter, I'll drive, yeah? That way you can sit with Frankie on your lap."

You could tell he wasn't really listening to you but nodded anyway, too engrossed in his dog to care about anything else. It was understandable.

You managed to coax him into the car and stop holding Frankie for a second so he could put his seatbelt on.

"Dieter Bravo, put your seatbelt on right this instant or so help me god!"

"Don't Dieter Bravo me!"

After a quick minute of arguing you got him situated in his seat and went to the driver's side, speeding out of the car park as quickly as possible. The radio hummed lowly in the background as Dieter spoke to Frankie who was still asleep and unaware of what was happening around her.

"She's asleep. She can't hear you." You laughed at him, mainly because he was being so cute.

"You don't know that. You know that they say coma patients can hear you?" He didn't even glance your way, his hands travelling up and down the length of Frankie's back.

"She's not a coma patient." You continued to laugh, being careful to drive slowly so as to not get distracted. "She's a sleeping dog that's high on whatever drugs they gave her."

"Same difference." He grumbled, hiding his smile in Frankie's fur. "She's cooler than a coma patient."

"Can't argue with that one. She is the coolest dog around." You replied with a laugh. "Knew that since I first laid eyes on her."

Dieter's head snapped to look at you as he thought back to the first time you had met.

You were stumbling down the hall of your new building, desperately trying to weave in and out of the corridors and remember your way back to your apartment. You'd just had your first day at your new job and it hadn't gone as smoothly as you hoped it would. Nevertheless, you pushed through it and managed to get to the end of your shift without any serious mishaps. But now all you wanted to do was crawl into bed with a glass of wine and a book.

That would be a lot easier if you only could find your stupid apartment.

After way too long a time of searching, you finally found your new home and you let out a cheer in triumph, slapping a hand over your mouth when you realised how loud you were.

"Fuck!" You cursed to yourself when you dropped your keys, bending down with a groan to retrieve them.

"Are you okay?"

You spun around at the sound of a deep voice to see your new neighbour hanging out of his doorway with an amused smile on his face.

Embarrassed, you nodded your head and turned back to your door again. "Yep, all good."

"Really? Sounded like a lot of grunting and swearing out here. Thought you might be having sex in the hallway." He laughed to himself and then even harder when your face flushed red. "I'm Dieter by the way."

You introduced yourself and knocked on your door. "Your new neighbour."

"The one who plays loud music and has already set off the smoke alarm twice? That new neighbour?" He sent you a friendly smile that sent an eruption of butterflies rippling through your stomach.

"Yeah, sorry. Walls are thinner here than my last place. I'll be sure to turn it down and stop burning food." You wanted to curse yourself, less than a week in this place and you'd already disturbed your nice, handsome neighbour. Typical.

Dieter just shrugged at you though, obviously unfazed. "You've got good music taste so it's okay. And we've all burned food in our lives. It's understandable." He briefly turned away from you to mumble at something or someone in his flat.

You finally managed to unlock your door without Dieter's brown gaze piercing into your soul and pushed it open, throwing your bag down to the floor in annoyance. You didn't want to be rude to him but now was not the most convenient time to be making a first impression due to your sour mood.

"It was nice to meet you." You called to him before rushing into your apartment, even more embarrassed at your swift exit.

"Yeah, you too-" Dieter began to reply but your door had already slammed shut. He let out a sigh and looked down at the puppy whimpering at his feet. "What do you think, Frankster? She's cute. Awkward. But cute."

Frankie just sniffled at his ankle in response, her head suddenly snapping to look in the direction of your apartment.

He frowned at his dog. "What is it?"

That's when he heard an angry scream coming from next door.

"Fuck!"

The word was extended and loud. Loud enough that Dieter was almost positive the whole building had probably heard it. He wanted to laugh but a large part of him was concerned for your well-being. Especially when the next sounds to be heard from your place were sobs.

Uncontrollable sobs.

He debated on whether or not he should check on you, trying to decide if it was appropriate to be so worried about a neighbour he'd met once. But after about ten seconds of deliberating, he decided screw it and pushed Frankie into his flat with his foot and shut his door behind him. Dieter stood at the door of your apartment for a moment with his hand raised in a fist, once again considering if he should check on you. But his heart overtook his brain and he knocked.

When you opened the door it was clear you'd been crying. Your eyes were red and your cheeks stained with tears, yet you gave him the brightest smile you could muster. "Hey, neighbour. What's up?"

He wanted to laugh at you but held back, only letting the tiniest smile show. "Your loud exclamation of a certain word beginning with f is what's up. Are you okay?"

You opened your mouth to give him an easy lie of yeah, you were fine but moving to a new place was a little stressful. Yet the genuine look of worry in his eyes stopped you. You just shook your head at him, paired with a little shrug, not knowing what to say.

Dieter seemed to consider this for a moment. "Do you like dogs?"

"I love dogs." You let out a surprised chuckle, not knowing where that question had come from.

"Wait here." He held up a finger at you before disappearing down the hallway again. You heard his door open and close before he reappeared with the cutest puppy you'd ever seen in his arms. "This is Frankie."

"Oh." You took one look at her before bursting into tears again. This time they were happy. "Oh, she's just the sweetest. Can I hold her please?"

Dieter smiled at your politeness before handing Frankie over to you. "I find her comforting during my bad moments. Thought she could do the same for you."

You offered him a grateful smile before turning all your attention towards the puppy. "Well, aren't you the most adorable thing to ever exist. I know I only met him today but I might just have to steal you away from Dieter if I get the chance."

He watched the two of you with a smile and a pounding heart. He was already enamoured.

When you got back to your building, you opened all doors necessary for Dieter and Frankie, rushed around his apartment to collect some essential items for a sick dog and set up the most comfortable bed possible for her filled with millions of her blankets, cushions and favourite toys.

Dieter watched you walk around his place with ease, knowing where everything was and making yourself at home as you tried to set up what you thought was best for Frankie. It made him love you even more. And now with the added weight of reminiscing on your first meeting, he didn't think he could contain his feelings any longer. It was almost painful not to confess right there as he stood rooted in the middle of his lounge with you flitting around him.

Frankie was well and truly out of it, and probably wouldn't wake until the next morning, so Dieter set her down in the bed you had set up for her before he reached out an arm to stop you as you went to walk past him again.

"Calm down." He smiled at you, the same easy and kind smile that had gotten to you all those years ago. "Sit down for a second, yeah?"

"I'm trying to look after your dog, Dieter." You huffed and gestured at her sleeping form, your heart aching at the cuteness of it. "Someone's gotta be responsible around here since you couldn't stop making sad goo-goo eyes at her."

He grinned at you, thrilled by how your actions reflected how much you loved Frankie. It was one of the many things he loved about you. He brushed a strand of hair away from your face as he shook his head at you. "Wow, who thought the sad cuddler would be the responsible parent out of the two of us."

Your jaw dropped at his words whereas Dieter's just snapped shut, shocked that he'd just let that slip out.

"Parent?" You asked, mouth agape. "Frankie's parent?"

Dieter blushed and looked off to the side, trying to will away the heat in his cheeks. "Well, I guess I've almost always considered you to be Frankie's mom. You spend the most time with her aside from me. You love her a lot, possibly more than me now that I think about it." He laughed to himself and finally looked back down at you to find your eyes filling with tears. "Don't cry. Frankie's out of commission at the moment."

You shook your head at him before throwing your arms around his neck and practically jumping on him, knocking him back a few steps.

"I'm guessing that's a positive reaction then?"

"Yeah, you idiot." You mumbled into his shoulder before pulling away but leaving your arms in their place.

And just like that, tension filled the space between you. It was like the two of you were the only people in the world, just staring into each other's eyes and trying to determine whether the other was feeling the same atmosphere. After several seconds of just gazing at each other, you loosened your arms from around his neck and began to pull away, thinking he would've taken the opportunity to kiss you already if he wanted to.

Dieter's mind, on the other hand, was racing with thoughts. Should he kiss you? Was it too late already? You pulled away, did this mean you didn't want to kiss him? But you looked disappointed. Did that mean you did want to kiss him? He was so confused that he didn't know what to do, weighing up every option in his head.

"I'll-" You cleared your throat and pointed at his door. "I should go."

He didn't reply, all he knew was that he couldn't just let you leave. Not when he was so close to finally just telling you how he felt. So, instead, he placed a hand on your cheek and turned your head to face him, gave you one last look before he leaned in and kissed you, very softly. The kiss was gentle but you felt your knees almost buckle. After years of harbouring a crush on Dieter you were finally kissing him. And it was wonderful.

Once he pulled away, he looked down at you with an almost shy look, unsure of whether what he just did was okay. So he simply asked. "Is this okay?"

"I've been waiting years for you to do that." You confessed with a smile, suddenly lightheaded.

"I've been waiting years to do that." He replied with a laugh as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him. "Wish I'd done it sooner now that you appear to like me back."

You shook your head at him, finding it funny how he couldn't realise that you'd always felt this way. "I'm just glad you've done it now."

"Me too." He pulled you in for another kiss, the two of you breaking away into a fit of giggles when Frankie started snoring in the corner of the room.

"FYI, I only like you for your dog. She's the only appeal you have." You teased him in a desperate attempt to contain your excitement.

"Well... naturally." Dieter shrugged at you before he kissed you once again.

And just like that, the three of you were a family. A sleepy dog, a sad cuddler and a smitten actor.

[tessa-quayle]

FanFiction Recommendations

before I disclose my favorite Pedro Pascal character-related fan fiction here, a few caveats and disclosed biases: I’m a woman of a certain age.  I was your average English lit major.  I’m the dork who - upon listening to Jewel’s debut album and hearing the lyric “you can be Henry Miller and I’ll be Anais Nin” in the mid 1990s  - legit hauled my ass to the local public library and looked up Anais Nin - using the Dewey Decimal system - to read her elevated smut.  Right now I’m a content but exhausted, ragey American woman in a mid-life crisis.  I hate bullshit, I have an ok attention span, I scroll/read after the family’s gone to bed.  

if you look at my semi-neglected Tumblr page, you’ll see I’m relatively new to the Pedro fandom.  What a privilege to dive into really superb writing.  This is clearly not an exhaustive list and reflects my tastes (and to each her/his/their own)!  But if you’re an exhausted parent in a mid-life crisis and have no time, this may be for you! 

in no particular order...

@fuckyeahdindjarin - masterlist - Cee describes herself as a writer who pens romantic comedies - and she does a stellar job with them - but she sells herself short and fails to mention the sex scenes she writes are hot.  especially love the consent series (dieter bravo), the grays 2-part series (frankie morales), and of course, the ongoing joel miller/pin series.  a delightful mix of angst, sweetness, spice.  and a thoughtful writer with an inclusive mindset. 

@absurdthirst - masterlist - if you told me Keri has a few stories published in several “best of erotica” anthologies, I’d believe you.  good smut is fucking hard to write.  this is great smut.  this is smut you read and then take a cold shower afterwards or do whatever it is you like to do to get yourself off.  it’s smut that even as a non-smoker and knowing all the terrible health risks you may think goddamn I need a cigarette.  I'm partial to a few Javier Pena and Agent Whiskey pieces, but you’d be satisfied reading any of her stories.

@something-tofightfor - masterlist - Rachael should give a master class on how to write the best slow burn.  Her Joel Miller stories stand out for several reasons including - 1) she thoughtfully incorporates elements of the original canon/game into her fanfic which is uncommon in the PP fandom (from what I’ve seen/read at least), 2) every Joel story/chapter is compelling and well imagined.  Her current series on Tim Rockford has me on the edge of my seat and I'm eagerly awaiting the next installment.  And judging from the titles of her stories, we have similar music tastes (ha!). 

@disgruntledspacedad - this writer hasn’t updated in several months, but their Javier Pena multi-chapter fic (and folks, there are MANY out there) called Better Love is the one that kept me going and going and wanting to read more (see mention of short attention span in a tired mama above).  being in the healthcare field, I also arch my eyebrows out of curiosity when someone weaves medical stuff into their writing and wonder what line of work they do.  (yes I'm a terribly biased nerd, I’m a sucker for when someone puts a f!physician reader into their PP-character related drabble).

@jomiddlemarch - she is a great friend and a gifted, amazing writer who always makes me wonder “how does she do this and how does she do this so well and so quickly while the rest of us plebes are just getting through our day.”  she writes for MULTIPLE fandoms (and judging from the notes on her posts, I think her readership is more into those than Pedro and the Last of Us but it’s ok!), and started writing Joel Miller and an OFC (she created!) named Grace Yang (NOT ME - but maybe there’s a chance she created this OFC to shut me up since I’ve been rambling on and on about how besotted I am with Pedro 😂).  If you’re into OFCs, read her stuff.  Check out the (ongoing) entire series on her AO3 here.  Here’s one story that you can find on her Tumblr.  Two of the five stories are Ted Lasso crossovers - all her stories are written so richly and so layered - she’s the star in your writing workshop who’s showing and not telling - I’m still thinking about how there’s so much to unpack in the latest one. :) 

[the-orange-tabby-cat]

Since I won't be writing anything this + the next week and I'm on a Dieter strike, here's a snippet of an one shot I started, but couldn't finish yet. This is reader and Dieter's introduction:

“I would love to be back with my mom, at the seaside.” An older man, perhaps named Jack, answered in a quiet voice.

Dieter tried to remember everybody’s name, but it was difficult as his brain was still getting used to being sober. Instead, he put some effort into paying attention to their answers, in the hope they would help his.

Lucas wanted to open a coffee shop. Darlene wished to pursue academic success. Bea desired to come out to her parents. Jack saw himself living with his mom by the coast. None of it seemed enough or close to what Dieter yearned for him.

“What about you?” All eyes turned and he sighed trying to form any thought about what he would do if he could do anything at all. Fidgeting with his hands, he tried to remember the last time he felt safe.

Dieter Bravo was deeply loved from the moment he was born. A happy kid, he saw the good in people in a way that most wouldn’t. A genuinely good heart inside of him. He stayed pure and sweet until the night his dad came to his room to announce he would be leaving for a while, but would be back soon. Dieter knew he wouldn’t, not by experience, he felt a wave of melancholy filling his body inch by inch with every word his dad said. He felt stuck watching his dad move towards the door, perhaps he was still in the same place even today.

A deep valley with green fields and rocky mountain tops was the first thing he saw when his dad left. He knew the scene by heart, it was his safe space for years. A painting his mom bought in a farmers market to decorate the nursery, it was hung in front of his bed in his childhood bedroom, his college dorm, and back to his mom's house after he moved to Los Angeles and the world consumed his mind. No matter what happened, he could always wonder about that scenery in the safety of his solitude.

He would sit in his bed and stare at the wild grass, how the valley curves shaped around a house so small to the vast green surrounding it. In his imagination the wind would hit his face, the sound would fill his mind and he could just exist.

When his parents fought over the phone, if he had a nightmare, his first time getting high, whenever his heart got broken he would stop for a while and stare at the painting imagining that his life was different, that he had the power to move and choose somewhere where he would have control over himself.

“I would start again in Scotland’s highland.” He answered with renewed hope, ready to have a word with his team as soon as he left rehab.

-

If Dieter Bravo’s heart hardened with the weight of the world, yours was closed from the beginning.

You knew your family loved you but were uncertain if they liked you too since you could read the room better than anyone in your household. What they didn’t pay attention you were eager to notice, like how mom would flinch when dad chose to wear that ugly baby blue tie, no matter how vocal about loving it she could be. Or when dad scoffed around the cat he was against but would pretend not to care when the tail was caressing his leg. You were ready to call someone’s bluff and realize your assumptions were a hint of a much bigger truth.

You got the confirmation the day you caught your sister cheating on her then boyfriend, and now husband, with his best friend. Something shifted in the air at that moment, you could feel your heart getting colder with the idea that somebody could betray you and still say “I love you”. You never told anyone about it, just like you never allowed someone to get so close, limiting your wants to be about something more material.

Practical with both feet on the ground, you dreamed about achieving the peak without trying too hard. And it was as simple as that for most things. With a good college degree, a nice apartment, and a great job in New York City, you got everything sacrificing a few hours of sleep to the accounting firm you landed a few years back.

Happiness is easy in your way when you don’t have high hopes. The world can be a brutal place, you don’t sugarcoat, instead, you see things for what they are. Your favorite bagel was out of stock this morning, so you got to try (and hate) a new flavor. A pigeon shitted on your shirt while getting back to work after lunch, at least you could get 15 minutes more of break while cleaning the stain. Nothing could deeply bother you due to the lack of optimism.

[chronic-ghost]

Chapter 4 of Recovery Road

chapter rating: E (18+)

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: 4377

chapter summary: Despite the good, they’ll always manage to fuck it up.

chapter warnings/tags: arguments, discussions of poor family relationships, self-destructive tendencies, depictions of sex but nothing graphic, angst :(

a/n: i've finally put together a taglist request form if anyone wants notifications about this fic or any of my other series! This fic will update every Thursday now!

▲ Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

▲ AO3 Link

By the end of the first week waiting for production to resume, you’re living in his AirBnb. 

Down the hall, in a separate bedroom, of course. But at least he gets to wake up and you’re the first thing he sees.

It’s temporary and you end up splitting the cost. It’s easier than getting a hotel, you justify, and all you have to do is send the PA a selfie to “clock in” and “out.” By the end of the first week, you have several selfies of Dieter Bravo that TMZ would pay hand-over-fist for. 

You like scrambled eggs over runny, he learns. You like your coffee with a bit of creamer, no sugar. Your toast has to be golden brown, not burnt and not floppy. 

“Makes me think of a flaccid penis,” you say one morning with your cheek in your hand as you shake a piece of un-toasted white bread. It wobbles beneath your fingers and he can’t help but bark out a laugh. “And that’s nobody’s best friend.”

“And you’ve ruined un-toasted bread for me forever. Thanks.”

There’s not much to do in Albuquerque so you spend almost every waking minute together. You go shopping together. He needs new running shorts and you’re getting bored up on the top of the hill. You help him choose between three pairs, and every time he comes out to show you from the dressing room, you’re wearing a different combination of hat and sunglasses.

“Mhmm, hmm,” you nod thoughtfully as though studying Michalangelo’s David, an $80 price tag dangling down your nose. “Hmm, I think you need to turn around again. I need to see another angle.” 

He rolls his eyes, blush tinging his cheeks, his hands on his hip. “I’m not showing you my ass again.” 

“I’m just trying to be helpful,” you shrug innocently. “I don’t want you running around Los Angeles looking like a dork. Imagine what Instagram will say.”

“Fine. One turn, and no lingering.”

“Whatever you say, hot cakes.” 

He goes back behind the curtain, fingers tight around the edges of the running shorts. It was Chloe’s suggestion that he take up running– had seen a 60 Minutes episode on addiction and many former addicts reported that replacing one unhealthy addiction with a more healthy one was the key to their sobriety. But God, he hates running. 

He emerges again, this time wearing ones that resemble those 80s little cotton red shorts, just to get a laugh out of you, but instead you’re holding something up. 

It’s a pair of gray sweatpants. Soft. Cozy. Entirely former Dieter’s MO. 

“What about these?” You say seriously, no glasses on your nose. “Seems more like you.” 

He doesn’t end up buying the sweatpants, but takes only one pair of shorts. 

One hot day, he sits out by the pool, practicing lines and drinking a coke. 

You splash into the water without preamble and come up soaking. He thinks – he hopes – it’s the heat frying his brain. You swim laps while he reads lines, your tits and thighs breaking the surface of the water as you swim in elegant backstrokes. As the sunsets, you climb out, not wearing that one piece from the hotel. This one is electric green, ruffled, and a two piece that laughs at the idea it’s going to cover anything. You dry your hair as you walk back inside and he lets himself have one more glance at the curve of your ass. 

Despite clumsily adjusting himself in his pants occasionally, this week has been . . . nice. There’s no pressure to perform, to be Dieter Bravo, the Movie Star. He can just be Dieter and, for some inexplicable reason, you seem to like this guy. With everything out in the open, he can feel himself relaxing around you, giving himself over to the pleasure of just being — of waking up when he wants to, reading the embarrassing romance novels he shouldn’t be caught dead with, eating pizza like he’s fourteen again — and you are right there with him. And you’re having fun. 

He learns you’re mystically good Scrabble player (his game always has been Trouble), and that you are rather obsessive about spicy foods, and that the best memory of your father (of which there are only a handful to start with) is the one where he played paper football with you outside of his office while you waited for your mom to come pick you up. Half the time you wonder if that memory is real. 

“He’s held me at arms length my whole life, and I get it. But sometimes I didn’t. Especially when I was younger. Then I realized I shouldn’t have to earn his love, because no matter what I did, he just wasn’t capable of it. If you truly love someone, you don’t make them feel like they aren’t enough. That they have to be different to deserve that love.”

“If it’s not, it’s not so bad not having a dad sometimes,” Dieter said as you sat in the car after a trip to grab a bite to eat after an attempt to make your own sushi turned out tragically. “Sometimes not having one is better than having a real shitty one.” 

He made you arroz con pollo. So you make him lasagna, your old roommate’s grandmother’s recipe. It’s delicious and he’s surprised you’re a good cook. You don’t even ask to buy red wine at the store and he’s appreciative of that.

In turn, he surprises you with his ability as a painter. You come home one day from scoping out a potentially cool records store and he’s out on the second floor patio. He’s got on a white loose shirt and tan shorts and no shoes. He’s painting the canyon below in reds and golds. It’s not a perfect recreation but it does feel like the desert. It feels alive. It feels warm. It’s beating. 

He’s got paint on his forearms when you step out onto the patio, mouth open. 

“Holy shit, Dieter, you didn’t tell me you could paint.”

“You never asked.” He smirks at you as he wipes himself clean. 

“No, but, Dee, this is good.” He glances at you. You only ever used his nickname when you were very serious about something. “This is, like, really good. Why are you an actor? You could totally do this for a living.”

“Because this is therapeutic,” he says, stepping away from the canvas as you come closer to inspect. He picks up his ice cold glass of water and drinks deep. “I, uh, actually picked it up in rehab. Always wanted to, but the excuse was I never had the time. But in there, you’ve got nothing but time.” 

He usually doesn’t let anyone see his work until it’s finished, the thought of rejection hotly unbearable. Especially Chloe, given her famous father’s own world-renown artwork. 

But you aren’t looking to judge or criticize. You are swept in by the painting, awestruck. It makes him warm, warmer than when the sun is on his skin.

“So, you like it?” He hesitantly stands next to you, the sticky, splotchy rag still in his hands. It’s not his best, but it’s not his worst. It just feels nice to paint again. 

You nod, silent. Your mouth hangs open and your fingers hover over the oils, careful not to touch but clearly wanting to sink into the canvas. 

“It’s not done yet, but, uh, when it is . . . do you want it?” 

Your mouth drops to your chest. “Are you fucking serious? That’s gotta be some form of robbery. You could make thousands of dollars off it.”

“Well, I don’t want to make thousands off it. Do you want it or not?”

You nod vigorously, mouth still open in surprise. “Of course. Yes! Because then I’m going to turn around and sell it and make thousands!”

“You fucking better not!” He flicks water from his glass at you and you giggle, nose scrunched up. 

“Hey, that’s no way to treat the nice roommate who got you tiramisu.”

He makes a face. “Bullshit. There’s no way Albuquerque makes good tiramisu.” 

“I never said it was good.” You roll your eyes. “Just come and try it.”

You grin over your shoulder as you waltz back inside, the backs of your thighs as open and bare as a canvas. You’re wearing those distracting jean shorts but the auburn t-shirt goes nicely with your eyes. You’ve got your hair up again and he wants to count all the little curls at the back of your neck. He doesn’t, of course, but he wants to. The golden evening makes the whole house sparkle, and you’re at the center of it. A sun, blazing, beautiful, almost painful to look at. 

He wants to paint you.

It’s peace. It’s relaxation. It’s bliss.

And none of it is his to keep.

Scott Manley, like the perpetually old man that he is, sends out an email at the end of the second week with an update on when shooting will resume. 

“Hey, did you see this?” Dieter asks, holding up his phone as he comes out of his room and is immediately stunned. The entire house smells like bay leaves and garlic and you’re standing over a pot on the stove top, stirring something. 

Whole-wheat pasta. Yesterday, he challenged you to make the world’s best buttered noodle recipe and, as if you could resist, you immediately went to the Food Network. Alton Brown has been playing on Netflix in the living room all day. 

The steam is making your face pink and your brows are furrowed as you concentrate, lips ghosting over the words of the recipe on your phone. Your pink crop top has several stains on it. 

Unguarded and unwatched, he smiles.  

In another time, in another life, he would have bent forward and kissed your temple, email and dinner forgotten. He would have wrapped his arms around your waist and inhaled the scent nestled in your neck. In another life, he would have –

“What? Dieter, did you say something?” You blink up at him as if he teleported right in front of you with no warning. 

He shakes his head, the movement small and contained. “Yeah, sorry. I said, did you read the email that Scott sent?”

“Nope. Why? What’s it say?” You go back to stirring, adding a bit of salt before sticking your finger into the pot and tasting. 

“He says shooting will ‘recommence’ – his words, not mine – next Monday at 8AM. He also sent a schedule of all the scenes we’ll shoot next week.” 

“Oh, yeah? Are any of ours on there?” 

A spark runs up his spine. “See for yourself.”

Mark and Cooper, page 27-32 - 8:15AM

Samuel and Roxie, pages 45-51 - 10:20AM

Natalie and Dieter ***, 11AM

You frown. “Asteriks, what does that mean?”

His flush could be passed off as warmth from the stove. “Generally, it, uh, means intimate or sensitive content. So non-essential cast and crew know to stay off set during that time.” 

“Oh.” Your cheeks are pink along with the back of your neck. “Hitting the ground running, I guess.” 

“I wanted to talk to Scott before we left,” Dieter says as he leans with the back of his hips up against the counter. He crosses his arms, watching you slice butter. “I tried to get him to start with something a little less intense. But I guess, with the delays, they can’t reschedule.” 

“It’s fine,” you wave your hand, nose wrinkling. “Good to know ahead of time.” 

You turn back to the pot to slip the butter into the pot when his large, warm hand encloses your wrist. His black glasses have a thumb print so you’re kind of blurred out of his left eye. He doesn’t want to think you look upset. 

“Really, are you okay with this? We’ve had a pretty good thing running here so far,” he smiles, “and I don’t . . . I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” 

Your chin quivers for a moment before your mouth explodes into a smile. “Why would I feel uncomfortable? I know that Heidi hired an intimacy coordinator beforehand. There’s nothing to be uncomfortable about.” 

The last word wavers, as if you were fighting a laugh that fizzled out. You step around him, easing yourself out of his grip, and add the butter to the pasta. You stir it a few times, before turning off the heat.

You beam at him. “Let’s eat!” 

It’s nearly eight o’clock. The light from the fading sun is red tonight. Red and emboldened. It peaks into every window, every mirror. It can’t be looked at directly. The house still smells like bay leaves and garlic.

Dieter is leaning forward at the patio table, laughing so hard, tears are streaming down his face. You’re next to him, knees tucked your chest, grasping at your sides, as your eyes fill with giggly tears. 

“And then the waiter– the waiter says – that’s enough shrimp cocktail for you.” 

He’s laughing so hard he thinks his lungs are going to burst. 

Seriously, he cannot remember ever laughing this hard in his whole life. Maybe he never had. Maybe life has never been this good. 

He can’t see straight in front of him, but he can hear you. He can hear you laugh, and laugh, and laugh. It’s good. This is good. 

Finally, when he might actually break a rib, when lungfuls of air have been gulped down, and palms rub away at tear-stained cheeks, you lean back and look at the coming night sky. You’re still huffing, chuckling as he sips ice cold water. 

The buttered noodles were fucking excellent, by the way. He means to tell you that. 

Your face is flushed but you’re staring up and away. You bite your lip and smile.

“What?” He chuckles, fighting off another giggle. “What are you thinking about?” He taps your knee.

He leans forward, like his body is reaching for you. But you always have your feet tucked up away from him. Like your body knows the line in the sand.

You shake your head. “Nothing. It’s just . . . this week has been so fucking weird, you know? Like, I can’t remember I binge-watched anything on Netflix–,” 

“Where else were we going to find most of Shirley MacLaine’s filmography?”

“–Or just went shopping for the hell of it. I live in Los Angeles, for God sakes, and I just never go to any record stores.” You pick up the end of your braid. “I don’t know. It just feels like all this stuff I did this week wasn’t me. Like someone from another timeline possessed my body and did stuff as me, but I was someone else. Sorry, I know I’m not making any sense.” 

“No, no, I do. I do understand. I feel the same way.” His heels dig into the concrete and pull his chair forward. “I think not being attached to my phone was nice.”

Cell reception was spotty up here, neither calls nor text reliable to go through. Throughout the week, when in town, he’d try to check in with Chloe. Texts. A few phone calls. They went through but he never heard back. Finally, he had sent her an email explaining the situation and this was the best way to get in touch. He did mention you too. That a “friend was staying over until production resumed.” 

He wasn’t lying. 

He had gotten a few replies (“I’m doing great, Dee. Dad’s so excited about the upcoming renovations.”, “yep, that’s my flight number.” , “haha”) but nothing in the past day or so. He didn’t exactly check his emails frequently. He knew he was just misreading her tone but it made his stomach sour when he read her messages. 

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah,” you blink as though the thought of being cell-phone free was just now occurring to you, “Oh my God, that was amazing. This’ll probably be the last time in a long time where I don’t feel like I need to doom-scroll out of boredom.” 

You take your glass and hold it in the cradle between your thighs and your chest, looking at the immaculate sky behind him. “I dunno . . . this just felt like I got to be someone else for a change. Like this is our own little pocket universe.”

Our. Our, she says. Dieter’s grin falters and he leans away. 

His phone is lying face down in his room where he left three hours ago. He feels like he should go get it. 

Instead, he drinks the rest of his water. “Yeah, it’s been nice.”

But you’re still imagining, lost somewhere above the house.

“What are you going to do when you get back? The first thing.”

There’s an ugly, guilty muck tightening in his chest. 

“Uh, I don’t know. Kiss my wife, probably. Tell her I love her, and then go to sleep for forty-eight hours straight.” 

That is the wrong thing to say. Your gaze drops on him like a stone.

“Oh.” Your tone is distant. Like the clang of a wardrum. 

He feels it, squirming under his skin. 

That old need, from the time before. That dark, slippery wet thing that whispered in his ear. 

You don’t deserve anything good. Ruin it. Ruin it. Ruin it.

Destroy destroy destroy

You huff, shaking your head, irked but not yet combative. You’re not ready to make this an active warzone. You aren’t ready for mutually assured destruction. Not like he is.

“Well, if that’s what awaits me as a housewife, then I guess I’ve got no complaints.” You smirk, pulling at your braid again. “Ruffle dresses, apple pie, a vacuum – I think I’d make a fantastic housewife.”

Dieter laughs. He actually laughs and it’s like he can almost see his life from another angle. 

He’s trapped on the inside and some fucking asshole taking control of his body because this is what happen when things go well. He’s lost permission. He’s got strings on his back and they’re bending his knees, forcing him to eat dirt and shit. 

It infects. It rots. It wants to burn it all down. 

This is how the spiral starts. This is always how the spiral starts.

He laughs, cruelly. “No, you wouldn’t. You’re messy, distracted. Self-centered. What, next you’re gonna be a mother?” 

You can see the meanness in his eyes. You chew the back of your teeth, black holes in your head for eyes. 

“Fuck you, Dieter.”

You stand up and storm back inside. He groans and he stands up to follow you.

“C’mon, don’t be that way. It was just one comment. I meant it as a compliment.”

You freeze halfway through throwing your phone into your purse.

“A compliment? How the fuck is that a compliment?”

“You’re leaving?” He spots the car keys in your other hand. “Where the hell are you going?”

“Dieter, answer me. How was that supposed to be a compliment?” 

“You’re just proving my point! You’re not that kind of person!” 

“Oh, you mean the kind of person who waits around home all alone while their husband spends an entire week with another woman? That kind of housewife?” 

“Goddamn it,” he slams his palm onto the countertop, “watch your fucking–,”

A glass at the edge of the counter trembles and topples to the ground. It shatters everywhere. 

It lets out a ringing. It rings and echoes and startles the coyotes under the mesa. 

They’re howling in the dark as you stare at him. 

“I’m fucking leaving.” 

And you do. You take the car and drive down the mesa.

The ache in his chest bubbles and cracks and burns and hisses. It’s putrefying. He purposefully breaks four more glasses after you leave. 

He cleans it all up, just like he always does. He accidentally steps on glass and has to spend thirty minutes trying to pull out a glass shard out of the bottom of his foot with fingers so full of rage, they’re trembling. He’s so angry he can’t see straight.

He gets it out. He’s bleeding worse than ever. He wraps his foot up in gauze and shuffles into bed. 

He checks his phone. No new emails.

“Fuck,” he hisses and chucks the phone off the bed. He presses his hands into face and groans. “Goddamn it.”

It’s been three hours and you’re still not home. 

It’s four o’clock in the morning. He knows this. He’s been watching the clock tick by. He knows this because he’s awake and he can hear it and, on some level, he is vastly aware he deserves this.

He can hear you fucking someone down the hall. 

He heard you come in, giggling, hushing, stumbling – you’re drunk he knows it – and a deep, male voice following you, talking after you.

And then the talking stopped. 

Furniture squeaked. Bodies knocked into walls. 

Your goddamn moans that had once been for him. 

“Faster,” you beg, at the end of the hallway, “c’mon. I wanna feel it tomorrow.”

Dieter stares up at the ceiling, hands clenched on the sheets, every muscle in his body locked up tighter than a fist, and listens to you fuck a complete stranger. Some twisted part of him thinks you want him to hear. 

“Oh, God, I’m coming– I think I’m coming–,”

The other voice is too low, just muffled noises. 

And then you scream. It’s loud and it’s fake and he’s nauseous. 

He knows he made a mistake. He knows he pushed too hard on that thin line of reality, that bubble that existed just around the two of you in this little house. He was cruel, he shouldn’t have said those things – but, fuck, he really didn’t think you’d do this.

His heart is so heavy, it’s sunk into the back of his spine. He thinks he can feel it beating there, alive, but stunted. 

He just wants this to be over, but he might deserve this. He might, but you didn’t have to do this. You didn’t have to make him listen. Force him to imagine. Imagine what he could never have.

The following morning, you come out of your room at the same time he does. You don’t look guilty. You don’t even look mad any more. 

There are clothes everywhere. Everywhere. Your bra is on the kitchen counter. Your thong is in the dead center of the hallway. Your shirt is over the TV and it looks like it had been torn clean off your chest. 

The guy you fucked is gone. 

Makeup is smeared beneath your eyes. Your pupil-black eyes. You’re using again.

“I’m moving out,” you say. 

“Good.”

He walks past your thong and goes to start the coffee machine.

The day after that, you fuck him. 

Not literally but it’s the sex scene. 

You don’t fight on set. You fight in character, but the second Scott ends the scene, the light in your eyes disappears and you turn away. 

Scott, of course, is delighted. No more arguments that threaten to level the building, and the chemistry is still there. 

“I’ll be sure to tell the studio that close quarters character work is a great success!” He claps Dieter on the back. “Great job.”

Dieter watches you walk by, silent, contained. You haven’t spoken a single word to him. 

When he has to kiss you, it feels perfunctory. Your tongue is dry and your lips cracked. Chloe’s face comes to him easier and quicker than it has in ages. 

And then they direct you to strip and climb on top of each other. If this was how actual sex went, the human race would have died out a long time ago. 

He fights to close his eyes half the time, to act like he’s enjoying this. To feel something as he grinds his hips just below yours. Everything is fake. It even smells wrong. It smells nothing like hot, delicious sex. He can barely feel your hands on his chest. 

Your moans are too airy, too high-pitched to be real. He’s got his cock strapped down and he’s rubbing against the mattress and you’re beneath him, moaning like you’ve got a fire poker shoved up your ass. 

He can’t help it: he laughs. 

But the professional that he is, he turns away from the camera and passes the laugh off as a shudder. 

You’re being ridiculous. This whole thing is ridiculous. 

But it’s convincing when it needs to be and Scott calls cut after a reasonable amount of takes. 

It’s over. It’s done. What the fuck was he so worried about? 

He went to a coffee shop the morning after you left and called Chloe’s phone until she answered. She had been so busy she hadn’t seen his email. The guilt eases, replaced by an uncertainty he could feel smack in the back of his teeth.

When he came back, all of your shit was gone. The guest bed was even made up perfectly. Every trace of you had evaporated from the home, as if you’d never been there in the first place. Even the painting he made for you remained untouched. 

You don’t say anything as you walk by in the changing room, after pretend-fucking him for the better part of an hour, fully clothed already while he’s taking his time in his robe. A good scene partner would congratulate you on a job well done. Neither of you are capable of that. 

He can’t put his finger on exactly what was so funny, but somehow he just knew those noises were over-enthused, dramatized. 

He’s got his boxers on and he’s sliding his jeans over his hips when he remembers. 

Those sounds were nothing like the ones you made when you finger-fucked yourself on his couch. To him. In front of him. 

The memory buzzes around his head like a fly and he shivers. Fuck, he was so close to being normal about this. 

He thinks about going to talk to you, going to apologize, but then he remembers you brought some fucking guy back to his home – the home you shared together — and suddenly he doesn’t feel so bad anymore. 

[amywritesthings]

Self Promo Tag Game

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 🤍

Thank you for the tag, dearest @prolix-yuy! I totally forgot this was sitting in my drafts... but there is no time like the present!

Hallmark, Holiday, Horny. (Dieter Bravo x F!Reader) - A smut-tastic holiday movie one shot with our dear boy Dieter. It didn't quite hit with notes, but I had so much fun revisiting this insane man. Writing Dieter's dialogue is always such a treat.

Something In the Movies. (Gojo Satoru x F!Reader) - My first attempt at writing the beloved Gojo. I have been so nervous to write him, but I love writing a softer, more whimper-y Satoru. Let my man have some peace.

Seeing You, Seeing Me. (Joel Miller x F!Reader) - Statistically my best work ever. This story still feels like a fever dream because of how fast I wrote it. I've never felt so sure and so connected to a piece, and I'm damn proud of it.

The Better Strategy. (Astarion x Tav) - My first non-'you' story on this blog. Astarion is very precious to me, so I enjoy exploring what intimacy looks like outside of sex. My Astarion has more of an aversion towards it, but he direly craves intimacy. pssst and this is updating tomorrow!

Silver Underground (Levi Ackerman x F!Reader) - This fic basically saved my life in 2023. I have never worked, never planned, never adored such a story, and it's all because of the community and friends I've built. I never, ever imagined the response and support it has gotten. Fingers crossed we land the ending, yeah?

NP tagging @littlerequiem @noteinabottle168 @enterthedreams @eupheme & anyone else!

[insolent-uprising]

Writing details and specifics

Types of writing:

One-shots

Imagines

Headcannons

Blurbs

Multichapter fics (to be completely transparent, however, this is risky. I have a short attention span and tend to burn out on longer pieces. If you have a prompt in mind though, it should turn out great!)

Characters I write for:

Joel Miller [game or show version] (The Last of Us)

Ellie Williams [game or show version] (The Last of Us)

Oberyn Martell (Game of Thrones)

Javier Pena (Narcos)

Frankie Morales (Triple Frontier)

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

Javi G (The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent)

Ezra (Prospect)

Maxwell Lord (Wonder Woman 1984)

Dieter Bravo (The Bubble)

Dio Morrissey (NYPD Blue)

Max Phillips (Bloodsucking Bastards)

If it seems I missed one or you'd like to ask for more specifics, send me an ask.

NSWF Yes's:

Most kinks, including but not limited to:

Choking

Bondage

Breeding kink

Rough

Dom/Sub dynamics (you choose the specifics of said dynamics)

Daddy/Mommy kink (try to keep it a little light on this one though, with me specifically it can come out a little cringey if too much emphasis is put on it)

Anal

Spitting

Slapping or spanking (keep it fairly light, see NSFW No's)

Praise kink

Degradation kink

Feral! characters

Aphrodisiacs (see sex pollen trope)

Pegging

Risky! sex (see NSFW No's for specifics)

Sex work

Cockwarming

Oral (m or f recieving)

Mild weapon play (see NSFW No's)

Voyeurism

Masturbation (mutual or solitary)

MAYBE dubcon, depending on the circumstances provided (CONSENT IS KEY. I am not promoting dubcon in real life in any way, this is a work of fiction. Always ask your partner for consent <3)

Again, the list of kinks I will write for is not limited to that list. If you have any questions or requests for kinks not on either list, please send me an ask.

NSFW No's:

Underage sex

Rape/excessive noncon

Excessive violence (see NSFW Yes's)

Foot fetish (Sorry to the people that are into it, I'm just not capable or comfortable in writing this kind of work.)

Public sex (this makes me uncomfortable as well, sorry guys)

Absolutely NO HBO Ellie or TLOU 1 Ellie (see NSFW No's #1)

Slurs

Consensual breeding

Bestiality

Any elements of pedophilia

Any Ellie x male reader works. (this applies to SFW and NSFW alike) Please respect her sexuality.

Any works revolving around Pedro himself. (this applies to SFW and NSFW alike) Pedro is a real person and it makes me uncomfortable to write for him. He has a real life and real feelings, I don't want to violate him in such a way. (For anyone thinking this applies to Javier Pena as well, I write strictly for Pedro's portrayal of him. Javi is a fictionalized version of the real life agent.)

If you have any questions regarding this list feel free to send an ask :) Also, no kink shaming whatsoever will be allowed in this space.

Random notes:

Willing to do any tropes!! If you have a specific one in mind, hit me up!

Storylines don't have to be romantic or sexual!! I've noticed a lot of writers don't include platonic works in their library! Sometimes all we need is a friend or family figure. If it's good with you, it's good with me! <3

If a storyline bothers you, please don't spread hate. If you must, please share your opinion in a respectful and polite way.

I'm willing to write for female, male, and gender neutral readers. I'll generally write for afab (often female identifying as well) readers, just because that's what I write best. However, I have no problem writing for any other types of people if requested!! The writing may not be as accurate, but I'd love to include everyone here <3

If you have any extra specific prompts, such as a dialogue snippet, I accept all requests!! Send em in!

[itsbrandy]

Wildest Dreams Chapter 3

Summary: Bee faces the repercussions of her actions from Dieter’s party the night before.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: old timey sexism, cursing, mentions of murder, unrequited love,

Chapter 3: He Does It So Well

“Bee, are you kidding me?” Nancy screamed. “Bee! Wake up!”

Nancy’s voice shook Bee out of her slumber, and she opened her heavy, sleep-crusted lids to the blinding sun and a searing headache. The throbbing in her skull was overwhelming and amplified by the metallic scream of her shrill alarm clock.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Nancy asked, slamming her hand down on top of the alarm clock. “Why else on Earth is your alarm going off so early? My head hurts, and since we’re suddenly unemployed, I was hoping I could get some sleep.”

Bee dragged her bleary eyes from her angry friend down to the lovebites that were scattered across her collarbone. Jealousy flared in her stomach like bitter butterflies. A million accusations sprung to her lips.

Where were you? How did we get home? Who were you with last night?

Blurry images of the night before filtered through her mind. They went to Dieter Bravo’s house, they met other actors, and they got horribly, terribly fucked up. She kissed Nancy. They actually kissed.

Oh God, they kissed. They kissed each other, and it was the best thing she could have possibly imagined. She’d never kissed anyone like that before. It was like the heavens and earth had collided, but in a good way, and then, she’d been left behind by her. Only to be found by Dieter Bravo himself.

He knew her secret. He knew her deepest, darkest secret. She was in love with her best friend, and it was wrong and forbidden, and holy shit, her head hurt so badly.

Bee sat up in bed, and her stomach lurched. The acidic taste of alcohol traveled up her esophagus and violated her senses. She could still smell the putrid, sharp scent of vomit in her nose.

Nancy’s nose twitched, and her blue eyes were narrowed. “Don’t throw up.”

Bee glared at her. “I’m trying not to. I hate throwing up.”

“You have somewhere you need to be,” Nancy repeated. “Do you remember?”

Before Bee could answer, someone started pounding at the door. Bee winced and tried to pull the blankets back up and around herself.

“Oh shit!” Nancy swore. She smacked herself on the forehead and tugged at the blankets tucked around Bee. “He won’t stop! I told him I just needed time to get you ready.”

“What?” Bee complained, batting her hands away. “Can you please keep your voice down?”

“You have your audition,” Nancy said. Her gaze hardened, becoming somehow even more stern. “Don’t you? There’s a town car waiting outside our house. The driver has been knocking for the past ten minutes. Are you going to just give up your chance to be a star?”

Bee shook her head, no, and the room spun with the motion. Her pink curtains blended together like cotton candy, and her open closet became a blur of beige and pastels. She’d completely forgotten about her audition. How was it so late already?

The audition wasn’t until 2 p.m., and it couldn’t be later than…it was 1:30 pm. Her alarm clock said as much.

Shit.

When had they gotten home? It didn’t matter. All that needed to happen now was for Bee to somehow miraculously get ready in 2 minutes flat.

“Will you help me?” Bee asked weakly. She managed to pull the covers off of herself and slide her legs from the bed and to the floor. Her heartbeat moved from her chest to her temples, throbbing with the quick position change. “I still really want to go.”

“Of course,” Nancy said. She grabbed Bee’s hands and pulled her to her feet. Bee melted into the contact, soothed by Nancy’s touch. She wanted Nancy to wrap her arms around her and rub her back to soothe her until her headache went away. “I’ll get your outfit picked up. You’re going to need to brush your hair and your teeth.”

Bee obeyed Nancy’s command and wobbled her way to the bathroom. She relied on the walls to help guide her as she walked, still unsteady on her hungover feet. When she arrived, Bee didn’t recognize herself in the mirror. Her cheeks looked puffy, and so did her under eyes. Her skin was slightly blotchy, pink and pale, and her eyes were bleary.

Her dark hair was still curled but definitely needed a brush, so she did that first while turning the water on to run the tap. Afterward, she blotted underneath her eyes with cold water on a towel to try to reduce the puffiness. She brushed her teeth in a mad dash and went to her bedroom, where Nancy was waiting with an olive green dress, skin tone stockings, and black shoes.

“Thank you, Nancy,” Bee said in a huff of breath. “I appreciate it.”

Bee looked outside as she changed, peeking through the sheer curtain from the side. A man stood next to the town car in a black suit and sunglasses, and Bee suddenly got an uneasy feeling.

She wasn’t sure that she could trust that the town car would take her to the studio. There weren’t any markings that showed that the man was associated with Paramount Pictures and she’d always been warned about getting into the car of a stranger in Los Angeles.

“Are you sure this is a real audition?” Bee asked as she slipped her stockings on.

Nancy was fully dressed in a pale pink dress with sleeves that puffed at the shoulders. She looked stunning apart from the lovebites on her neck, but those could be quickly covered up. Bee wanted them covered. She’d turn green with envy if she had to look at them another time.

Nancy looked unsure. “There’s been a lot of murders in the city. But the car looks real. I don’t think murderers can afford to hire cars that nice.”

She was right. The car was unlike anything Bee had ever seen before. It had a white top and a green body, and it looked far too fancy for her even to go near.

“Maybe that’s how they’ve been getting away with it,” Bee said. Her stomach did a flip-flop, and she wasn’t certain if it was from the alcohol or from the nerves. “Nancy, I’m going to be sick.”

“You’re going to be fine,” Nancy insisted. She grabbed Bee by the shoulders, and Bee couldn’t help but look at her lips while she spoke. “You look great. You clean up super well, and why would they not want you? You’re gorgeous, Bee. You’re talented. You will be in this movie, and you will be amazing.”

“Do you think I could ask them if you could come with me?” Bee asked. Part of her was nervous, but mostly she didn’t think that she could bear being away from Nancy today. Her eyes were drawn to the hickeys that lined Nancy’s collarbone. “Would you want to?��

Nancy’s eyes lit up. “Of course, I would. Do you really think I would pass up an opportunity to come to Paramount?”

It wasn’t lost on Bee that Nancy hadn’t thought that the situation was dangerous until she’d been invited along. Bee didn’t care, though. She felt safer with Nancy and better about auditioning with her there. If she was honest with herself, she felt better about being with her all the time.

Nancy quickly powdered over her hickeys and dragged Bee out of their apartment. She’d also swept on Bee’s favorite red lipstick, lining her plush lips with bright crimson. The two girls were joined at the hand, fingers laced between one another, and Bee let out a giggle that made her own head pound in protest as they approached the car.

“Can my friend come with me?” Bee asked the driver. She put her bravest smile on for the driver. “It's just for safety. Lady things, you know. My mama always told me to be cautious with where I went in Hollywood. I wouldn’t want to not follow her sage advice on such an important day.”

The driver shrugged and waved both of them into the car. “I don’t see why not,” he said lazily. “But you’re already late. Hurry up, girls.”

Nancy squeezed Bee’s hand and smiled at her, grinning from ear to ear. Bee reached out and brushed back an errant brown curl, tucking it back into place behind her ear.

“You look beautiful,” Bee said as she opened the car door and motioned for Nancy to enter the backseat of the car before her. The seats were light tan leather and in pristine condition. The car smelled like it was brand new out of the factory, and despite her earlier hesitation, Bee knew that this was definitely not the car of a murderer.

Nancy didn’t answer her compliment as she climbed in the car, but when Bee joined her in the backseat, Nancy wrapped herself around her. Together, they sat with their knees pressed up against each other, and Nancy’s warm hands found Bee’s thighs, clinging her close from her excitement.

“I can’t believe we’re going to Paramount,” Nancy whispered near Bee’s ear. “We’ve never auditioned there before. This could be it. This could be what we’ve been waiting for for so long.”

Bee didn’t even care that it wasn’t Nancy’s audition. She would love for Nancy to get her next big role just as much as she would love for herself to get one. To be able to be by Nancy’s side through the explosion of her career, that would be a dream for her. Nancy on the Silver Screen, Bee watching dutifully at home waiting for her wife to–No, it couldn’t be. There was no future that could ever look like that.

Bee revised her dream as the town car whizzed through the streets of Los Angeles, taking the two women from their humble apartment to the place where stars were born. The sun was shining, and the motion made her dizzy, but she didn’t care. Somehow, it felt like Nancy was the cure to her hangover.

Then, the car came to a stop, and Nancy jolted out of Bee’s arms.

She pointed ahead of them, and Bee peered through the windshield to see a great, ornate arch guarded by a carefully crafted gate. Paramount Pictures was written in cursive above.

“Bee, we’re here!” Nancy shrieked.

The driver shot a glare in the rearview mirror, but Bee didn’t care. She looped her arm around Nancy’s waist and squeezed her as the driver gained access and the gate swung open to receive them.

“We are,” she said. “We’ve really made it, Nanc. This is an incredible opportunity.”

“We have,” Nancy agreed.

She grabbed Bee’s hand and rubbed the top of it with her thumb. Bee wanted to kiss her so badly that she almost couldn’t bear it, but she knew she couldn’t. Not here, anyway. “Everything happens for a reason, remember? Us losing our jobs—this is why. Something good is going to happen here. I can feel it.”

Bee looked at the sign wistfully. That vision of the future molded itself in her mind, solving the problems that existed in it before. Nancy and her, hand in hand, on the red carpet for an event. The cameras are flashing in their faces, and as soon as the event is over, Nancy pulls Bee around the corner, and they kiss in the darkness where no one can see them except for assistants who are sworn to secrecy.

That was better than the alternative. That was the future Bee wanted.

But then, an annoying interruption filtered into Bee’s mind. Dieter Bravo’s charming slur of words after he’d caught her kissing her best friend at his party. He’d been all suave and handsome and ready to seduce her, leaning up against a bookcase in the dark.

“That’s the best kind of love,” Dieter had said. “The type where you aren’t sure where it ends and where it begins. You just know that it’s there, and you’ll always have it.”

“This is your stop,” the driver said, and assistants rushed to open the car doors to retrieve Nancy and Bee.

Paramount Pictures was a flurry of motion the likes before Bee had never seen. She’d been on set before, but never at a studio of this size. Hundreds of employees milled about, walking from set to set, from building to building. Women in high heels, men in suits, people in full costume, and their assistants walking with umbrellas to guard their heads from the wrath of the Los Angeles sun. People shouted and screamed, and fans hollered at actors from the gaps in the metal gate outside, trying their best to get a glimpse at the next best thing to come out of Hollywood.

“Finally,” a woman with blonde pinned-up hair said. She was pretty, and she looked like she could be Bee and Nancy’s age if stress hadn’t prematurely pressed lines into her fair skin.

“You two are late. We need you in the audition suite now.”

Nancy and Bee only had one moment to exchange confused glances. The audition wasn’t planned for the two of them; it was only planned for Bee. But the blonde woman pushed at Bee’s back, pressing her forward, and Nancy gripped her hand like her life depended on it to avoid getting separated in the mad dash of Paramount Pictures.

“You’re Bee, right?” the woman asked, still shoving them along. Two men opened a set of double doors for them into a building, and the harsh Los Angeles sunlight plunged into the moody darkness of a movie set. Lights were oriented at two actors who were inside a staged kitchen.

Bee watched in wonder as the actors ran their lines, waiting for the camera to start rolling. Ever since she’d seen her first movie, she’d always wanted for that to be her. Small roles here and there could not compare to the thrill of being a star. The closest she’d ever gotten was on the stage.

“That’s going to be us,” Nancy whispered. She held Bee’s hand so tightly that Bee worried her fingers would snap.

Bee nodded excitedly, all too aware of the woman right behind them potentially overhearing their conversation.

“Don’t get your hopes up too high,” the woman behind them said, evidently hearing what Nancy had said. “We are certainly desperate to fill this role, but you still need to audition in order to find a spot. Then there are contracts, negotiations, and everything that comes after. Some people nab a role but can’t sign the contract and adhere to the terms.”

“Right,” Bee said hesitantly. She hadn’t thought about the possibility of a contract, but she was sure that she’d be able to do whatever the contract would require of her. “Will my friend be able to audition?”

The woman stopped in her tracks, and Bee and Nancy skidded to a stop. “I thought that’s why you brought her. We have plenty of smaller roles available—the more, the merrier. If we don’t cast the main roles in this movie today, we’ll lose our budget. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bee and Nancy chorused.

Bee can see it now. The odds were in their favor. This is their big break. And multiple roles available? A deadline to fill them by?

This is exactly what they’ve been waiting for. This is why they made this leap together. Bee and Nancy on the screen together after all this time. And what were the chances after they’d kissed for the first time the night before? Today was meant to be.

The woman ushered Bee and Nancy into a room arranged like a classroom with desks at the back of the room and a large chalkboard at the front. A group of three men sat at desks with folders full of paper. Each one of them had dark hair and glasses and wore fine suits. Bee thought they looked like triplets, but the odds of them being related were astronomical.

The one on the right looked a little older, but the middle and left ones were nearly completely identical. None of the men looked up at them as they entered the room. Instead, they poured over their pages of paperwork, only glancing at Bee and Nancy once the blonde woman spoke.

“These are the Roberts brothers,” the blonde assistant said, presenting Bee and Nancy at the front of the room. “They are directing and producing this film as a joint project. Their first ever collaboration!”

Nancy smoothed the pale pink skirt of her dress and put on a smile, Bee knew she should do the same, but she was confused. She’d expected the casting director that she’d met to be here.

“Will the casting director be here?” Bee asked. Yesterday, when she’d imagined herself auditioning, she imagined the scout from the diner would be here. The idea of a familiar face made her feel more comfortable. “Daniel?

“No, sweetheart,” the brother on the left said. “Just us today. We’ll be making the remaining casting decisions on our own. We’re on a very strict deadline, as I’m sure you’ve been told.”

Bee gulped, and Nancy shot her a look that said Relax. Her blue eyes held so many emotions in them, but Bee didn’t want to be caught staring, so she looked away and focused her attention back on the three brothers at the back of the room.

“I’ll be here, though,” the blonde said with a grin. “Taking notes.”

She sat at the back near the brothers but not directly next to them as if she knew that she wasn’t allowed to sit too close. Bee pursed her lips. There were so many unspoken rules in Hollywood. She hated having to tread so lightly.

“What was your name?” Bee asked as the blonde signaled for an assistant in the hallway to close the door behind them.

“Sandy,” the blonde woman said. She picked up her notebook and pen but gave Bee a look that told her she’d been out of place by asking the question.

Bee needed to remind herself that no one cared about assistants in Hollywood. She’d made a second mistake in quick succession. Once again, a quick glance at Nancy told her all she needed to know about how to act during this audition.

Nancy looked stunning. Her shoulders rolled back, her hands flat against her skirt, her chin held high. She loved it when Nancy dressed in pastels. The pale colors looked gorgeous against her darker hair and really made her light blue eyes pop. Bee mirrored her posture, hoping that the three brothers thought the same of her.

“Now, which one of you is going first?” the brother on the left asked. He held his pencil out and pointed between the two of them. “And which one of you is Bee, and which one of you is the extra girl? I have it here that Daniel scheduled a girl named Bee for the audition today.”

“I’m Bee,” Bee said, holding her hand up. She felt like a little girl, transported right back to school. “This is my friend, Nancy. I brought her as my support but also, um, if you’d like for her to au—”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s great,” the brother on the right said. “She’ll do. Do you have any acting experience?”

Nancy nodded. “I’ve acted in several plays around Los Angeles, including one downtown. And I was also in the very same commercial that Bee was cast in earlier this year. We played close friends and had similar line loads.”

“Great,” the right-side brother said.

“Bee, will you grab the paper on the desk in front of you and read the first paragraph for us?” the middle brother asked.

“Hold on,” Sandy said, holding up a hand. “We’re still waiting on Dieter to show up. He should be here for this one. It’s on the calendar.”

“He’s late,” one of the brothers said.

Bee was too busy snatching the paper off of the desk and trying to commit the words to memory to pay attention to them, but she could sense the eye roll in his voice.

“Dieter is always late,” another brother complained. “We can’t afford to wait around all day for him. We need contracts signed in order to get the green light. End of story. Now, sweetheart, read the paragraph, please.”

Bee wished she had a glass of water to clear the knot that suddenly formed in her throat. Dieter? As in Dieter Bravo?

Through her foggy, drunk memories, Bee could have sworn that her new rival Alice had mentioned possibly being in a movie with Dieter, but now Bee was here auditioning for the starring role with Nancy at her side. Perhaps Alice wasn’t good enough. Bee stifled a laugh. That would be rich.

Now, she had to nail this interview. If not to stick it to Alice, she didn’t know what else. Getting into this movie with Nancy would be better than letting Alice get the role and having Nancy look up to her like the role model she’d always wanted.

Bee hated how Nancy always latched onto other prettier, more talented women and wanted to be like them. Nancy was perfect just the way she was. Stunning, talented, smart, sophisticated…fuck, she was starting to sound like a lovesick puppy even when she was rationalizing with herself.

Bee cleared her throat and held the piece of paper in her hands. Sandy motioned for Nancy to take a seat at one of the desks, leaving Bee to stand alone in front of the chalkboard.

“Are you ready?” the middle brother asked.

Bee nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Action,” the brother on the left said. But then, just as Bee was about to open her mouth to start reading out the side, someone burst through the door, startling the hell out of her.

“Oh my goodness!” Bee shrieked, jumping and clutching her chest with her hands. The paper fell to the ground completely dramatically, and Bee flushed as she realized she’d totally been startled in character. She didn’t sound like herself but rather a perfect ditzy Hollywood starlet in a romance movie.

The person who interrupted was, of course, none other than Dieter Bravo. Despite how drunk Bee remembered him being, Dieter looked perfect. He was almost carved from stone, all tall and muscular, but his face looked fresh. His under eyes were slightly dark, but they always were–even in the movies.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Dieter said, though he didn’t sound sorry at all. He strode across the room with his shoulders rolled back. He was wearing a white button-down shirt with short sleeves, and the buttons were unbuttoned far more than was generally acceptable for fashion, showing off the light brown skin on his chest. “I was fighting off women all morning. You know how it is.”

Dieter made a funny little motion with his fists that garnered zero laughs.

Bee wasn’t sure anyone in the room knew how that was. The Roberts brothers were complete and total nerds, though they certainly had pull being Hollywood executives. No one got women like Dieter Bravo did. No one.

Bee would know. She’d been under his spell just the night before.

Those whiskey-numb lips and half-lidded eyes had been trained on her.

The very thought made her want to spontaneously combust. It was hard for Bee to stay in the brightly lit classroom when her mind was tugging her toward that alcohol-fueled moment of panic when she’d realized that Dieter Bravo had witnessed her making out with her best friend.

She wanted to talk to him, to make him swear that he would take her secret to the grave.

Or better yet, to see if he remembered it at all. If Bee were lucky, Dieter wouldn’t recall ever meeting her. He wouldn’t remember anything about the night before. Wouldn’t that be swell?

“Well,” the brother on the left said. His chin was tilted toward his brothers. “I like her.”

The other two frowned but then nodded approvingly.

“Yep, she’s great,” the one on the right said. “How much to sign her on?”

“Well, since she’s unknown, there’s no need to pay her much,” the middle brother said. He leafed through some paperwork, and his eyebrows pressed together.

“But wait, I didn’t read yet,” Bee protested.

Dieter locked eyes with her, and something in his dark gaze told her to Shut up. Then, she knew that he definitely remembered her. The tiny tug upward at the corner of his cheek verified as much.

Bee snapped her mouth closed.

There was a pregnant pause in the room.

“I like the friend too. How much for them both? She’s pretty. She could fill in another role here somewhere,” the middle brother continued as if Bee had never spoken. He rifled through his papers. “Why don’t we do— Dieter as Jack, Bee as Maria, Jackie from the other day as Donna, and the friend as Helen.”

“The friend…I need to write that name down,” the brother on the right mused. “What was her name again?”

“Nancy,” Bee said through a tight throat. She didn’t miss how Dieter’s lips pursed when Bee said her name.

He knew. He remembered. He was going to tell everyone.

Bee knew her face would be tomato red with how hot her cheeks felt. She blinked away tears of embarrassment that gathered at the corners. She was waiting—hoping and praying that he wouldn’t—but waiting still for Dieter to stand up and protest that she couldn’t get the role.

She didn’t deserve the role because she was a lesbian.

Well, she wasn’t a lesbian, but that was beside the point.

“Well, what about Alice?” the brother on the left asked. “The other pretty one.”

Nancy’s eyes widened, and Bee took a deep breath.

Please not Alice, please, not Alice.

“Too prissy,” the one in the middle said nonchalantly. “We’re filming in Africa. Do you think that diva would let us take her to Africa? I certainly don’t think so.”

The brothers chorused their agreement and disagreement. One argued that all of the women would be uncomfortable in Africa, while the other argued that they couldn’t handle a woman who complained. The brothers were at a standstill, leaving Bee to wait on display at the front of the room.

She tried to get Sandy’s attention to ask if she should sit down while the brothers discussed, but Sandy was busy scratching down all of the reasons why each brother was for or against signing Alice on.

“I don’t think so either,” Dieter said while staring Bee down.

Bee wanted to disappear. He was doing that for her. He was saying this for her. He knew that Alice was her competition when it came to Nancy.

“How about a compromise?” the brother on the left proposed. “What if we don’t take either Alice or Nancy for this project.”

Bee watched as Nancy stiffened, clenching her hands into fists against the desk. She felt her heart shatter into a hundred tiny pieces for her friend, and her embarrassment quickly turned into fury. How dare they talk about Nancy like this right in front of her?

These were her dreams they were talking about as if they didn’t even care. She was a human being, and she was right there!

Bee opened her mouth to say something, but to his credit, Dieter once again bailed her out. His dark eyes were trained on her as he elbowed the oldest brother, who sat right beside him.

“What do you mean by that? I think Nancy has a great look for Paramount Pictures,” Dieter interjected. “She’s everything the studio has been looking for.”

“Hm,” the middle brother said. “What about casting her for the supporting role in the Rose Petal project?”

The other two brothers considered this compromise.

“And what about Alice? Do we take Alice with us on this project instead?” the other brother asked.

Please, not Alice, Bee thought. Please, not Alice. Please, let Nancy come with me on this.

She didn’t have much of a point of reference for what Africa would be like, but she couldn’t imagine weathering such an unfamiliar environment without her best friend. And she couldn’t imagine having to spend that time with Alice, either.

“We bring Alice,” they decided. “If we won’t take Nancy for this one, then we will bring Alice for the other one.”

“Get us contracts, Sandy,” the middle brother said, snapping his fingers. “We’ll need to sign them right away. Bee for the lead role on the Africa project—Maria. Alice as Helen. Pen Nancy in for Cindy on the Rose Petal project. It’s a bigger role than this one would be. It’ll be better for her.”

“They don’t have agents, sir,” Sandy protested. “These contracts will take forever to get together. Are you sure you want to hire two unagented actresses on the day of the deadline?"

The brothers looked at her like she was stupid.

“We don’t have a choice,” Dieter said smugly. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. “Now, is that all you gentlemen needed me for? Now that I’ve solved your problem, can I leave?”

“Yes,” the oldest brother said, waving Dieter out of the room. “You girls can stand out in the hallway, too, while we discuss details.”

Bee felt like she’d been punched in the gut, but she obeyed the order, filtering out of the room with Nancy practically skipping right behind her, but before she could make her way out of the door, Dieter Bravo cut her off, planting his hand against the door frame.

“Hi,” Bee said, startled.

“Hello,” Dieter replied. His smile was dashing, and it made Bee’s heart flutter in a way that only Nancy had made her feel before.

“What do you think of the studio?” he asked.

“It’s intimidating,” she said, but she wasn’t sure if she was talking about Dieter or Paramount. “Very intimidating.”

[chaoticgeminate]

Just The Way You Are

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem!Reader Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI) Word Count: 4.2k Contains: SMUT AHEAD, tummy worship, dick piercings, oral (f receiving), unprotected PiV (wrap it up in real life) Notes: This is a very late birthday present for the lovely Ash (@mandoblowmybackout) so I hope you like it, love!

Somehow you weren’t surprised to find that your living room was upended, the couch and loveseat shoved as far back as they could be while Dieter held his body in a wobbly tree pose, and you took a long moment to just watch him from the entry hall of your apartment. His usual “athletic attire” of baggy sleep pants and a tee shirt were traded out for gym shorts and a tank top, they were definitely new since you didn’t recognize them, and you admired the way the purple fabric looked against his skin as Dieter struggled to keep his balance.

The television volume was low enough that he should have heard you come in, meaning he was either aware and just not paying attention or Dieter had truly gotten absorbed into the yoga program, so you went about unpacking your empty lunch containers to be washed and get yourself out of the now dry sweaty clothes you’d been wearing all day. Slipping into the shower, wanting to clean off the dried sweat and be able to relax, you couldn’t help but sigh as you let the hot water beat against your skin and work to relax your sore muscles.

Lingering in the shower, even after you were clean, you couldn’t help but hum as you stretched your own limbs to work out as much of the lingering discomfort as you could. Lugging around boxes upon boxes of heavy parts at work, since it was an inventory counting day, had left your arms feeling like noodles and your legs burned from the ache of all the lifting and walking you’d done.

Out of all the celebrities you’d ever met on a movie set Dieter was the only one who looked at you the same way he looked at every other person, he had asked if you wanted to have sex with him and despite your refusal he’d been kind. That kindness had sparked a horrendous crush; one that you’d never expected anything to come out of since he was an Oscar winner and had a history dating celebrities and fucking underwear models.

Someone like you was not even close to being on his radar, but you’d somehow managed to become his friend over the course of shooting and now Dieter spent a lot of time crashing at your place rather than his home in Beverly Hills, and all the proximity was doing was making it hard to deny that you truly had feelings for him. One of your hands skated up to circle your nipple and the other slid down to run along your folds in a teasing way, you’d seen him in a wide variety of comfortable loungewear before but something about his purple shorts and white tank-top did it for you.

“F-fuck.” The word slipped out before you could bite your lip, imagining that it was Dieter’s careful touch instead of yours, and when you circled your clit with a breathy exhale you knew that you’d have to rush when you heard the drag of the furniture through the door. You worked your body with precision, letting your mind wander to the idea of Dieter coming into the bathroom unannounced and joining you, so when you did manage to finally come it was on the edge of unsatisfying but still took enough of the tension off.

It was just in time as a knock sounded on the door.

“Gonna use all the hot water in there?”

“Piss off, it’s my apartment.”

Your reply earned a laugh and you snorted softly as you turned everything off and got out, after a quick rinse of course, and throwing on your loungewear before daring to exit the bathroom. Dieter studied you as you stepped out into the living room, which he’d put back to rights for you, and as you grabbed one of your books from your reading stack he headed for the bathroom next.

One of the best things about your apartment was the double casement window you’d turned into a reading nook, building a thickly padded bench with shelves for books beneath and between two taller bookshelves that framed the window which you could lean against and LED lights were fastened into the front of the shelves and softened by a shaded resin cover so that you always had light to read if you needed it.

While your window did open to your balcony the outdoor space was not protected that well from the elements, so on rainy days you could still enjoy the fresh air without risking getting drenched by cracking your casement windows open just a little.

You were pretty far into your book when Dieter nudged you and gestured to your breakfast bar -which was where you ate since you didn’t need a dining table- where he had set up dinner. The mess piled by your sink made you glance at him; he didn’t like cooking so the fact that he had made dinner was enough to have you wondering if you’d done something or he’d gotten some big role. Dieter had gone for vegan tacos, his distrust of wireless technology had spiraled into an almost comedic distrust of heavily processed foods.

“Thank you for making dinner.” Dieter blinked and hurried to swallow the mouthful of food he’d taken, you couldn’t help but wince given that he’d hardly even chewed it.

“If I’d left it to you then something tells me we’d end up getting take-out.” The jab was playful so you didn’t take offense to it, mostly because he was right, and you couldn’t help but nudge him before beginning to eat. The pair of you watched some YouTube videos from his iPad together as you ate, laughing over professionals critiquing life hack videos related to their field, and you even mentioned a few of your embarrassing stories about needing to learn to fix things when you first moved out.

By the time you were both cleaning up the dishes your ribs hurt from laughing, your cheeks ached from smiling, and Dieter was red in the face. It was so easy to be around him, even with his occasional drug use the man had never hurt you or scared you, and especially moments like these you knew why you’d developed a crush on him. It didn’t help that he liked to lounge around shirtless in a bathrobe and shorts, like he was doing now, for some reason his arms were the parts of himself he wasn’t entirely keen on showing.

Dieter dried off the last pot and put it away, wiping your counter down with a Clorox wipe, and you couldn’t help but notice that he had a new tattoo on his hand that you didn’t recognize.

“Dee?”

It was four little spines with a date in the middle and bands making a circle between the spines, he followed your gaze and finally looked up at you.

“I uh, that’s when I decided to go clean.” He showed you the NA Google search result and your eyes misted over before you could stop yourself.

“That was six weeks ago- I’m so proud of you Dee.” His lips lifted into a smile and the hug he gave you as you squeezed him tightly made your skin tingle, you’d always believed he could –and would- be able to beat his addiction with the right motivation and drive. You wanted to ask why, what happened that he decided enough was enough, but you also didn’t want to keep talking about it since you could tell he was uncomfortable thinking about his goal to get better.

The inconsistent yoga times made sense now, he’d started about six weeks ago, it was a way for him to do something else whenever he got the urge to use.

“Thanks, I- I appreciate you more than you know.” His voice caught and you stepped back to look up at him, wondering if something was wrong, but the expression on his face was all softness. He leaned down and kissed you, before you could ask him if he was okay, and the touch of his lips on yours sent chills from the back of your neck down to your toes.

When you leaned closer, when you let yourself surrender to the affection that you’d only dreamed of, was when Dieter pulled you closer and kissed you like he wouldn’t be able to breathe otherwise. It was intense, desperate, and you were swept up in his mouth on yours. Hands burrowed into hair and his curls were soft between your fingers as he gripped you tight enough that it felt like he was trying to embed the ghost of his fingerprints into your skin.

The smell of the Clorox solution from the open container was jarring when he knocked it over in his attempt to drag you out of the kitchen, the liquid spilling onto the tile floor and soaking into your socks, and Dieter made an annoyed grumble into your mouth before he hurried to tidy up his mess and make sure you didn’t slip. The pair of you burst into giggles as he finally helped slide you out of the kitchen onto the carpeted living room floor, your socks quickly removed and feet wiped down with a paper towel, and you took pleasure watching him grab your mop and just run the solution over your floor instead of fighting it.

“You should wash your feet, so the chemicals don’t irritate your skin.” Dieter’s concern made you smile, shucking your socks into your hamper, and you took the time to brush your teeth as well as freshen up. Even if nothing but kissing happened –unlikely- you were buzzing with anxiety and dealing with all your stupid insecurities trying to rear their ugly heads. You made it two steps into your bedroom before Dieter’s hands were grabbing at your hips and dragging you back against him as he slotted his mouth against the side of your neck.

You spun in his hold and Dieter pulled back a moment to study your face, his eyes wide and his expression vulnerable, and you offered him your softest smile. You knew he was really insecure, under all his Hollywood bluster, so you didn’t push him for an answer and instead waited for him to either speak or return to what he was doing. Dieter’s expression melted to something serene and his next kiss was slower, deeper, and stoked the earlier arousal that you’d tried to get rid of in the shower.

Each slow step backward was taken as one unit, his grip was firm but no longer riding the edge between pleasure and pain, and Dieter spun so his back hit the mattress first. You grinned down at him as you moved up onto your hands and knees over him, feeling his hands slide along the outside of your hips and around the curve of your ass, and Dieter moaned when you dipped your head to lick into the little hollow between his collar bones before sinking your teeth into his pectoral and sucking a mark into the soft muscle.

He wheezed your name when you teased one nipple with the tip of your finger, hips jumping below you, and when you met his eyes again Dieter’s cheeks were tinted with color and his pupils were blown wide in the dim light of your room. You winked at him, ignoring his little breathy whimper of a reply, and dragged your tongue against the dusky skin before drawing it into your mouth fully and taking a good bit of delight at his throaty curse as his hands squeezed your ass and pulled to try and guide you down onto him.

“No, Dee, let me take care of you.” He whimpered again and you licked your lips as you took in his bare chest, delighting in how his breathing went erratic as you dragged your fingertips down the soft skin. You had told him many times that you appreciated his softness, that he wasn’t busting his ass to try and fit some ridiculous physical standard, and being able to admire him this close was making your mouth water.

This alone was making you wet, having him here at your mercy definitely helped, but being free to admire and touch and kiss the things he was insecure about to prove to him that he was perfect just made it better. Your body clenched at the idea of grinding against his treasure trail, of wrapping your thighs around that soft area and smearing yourself all over him, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him either. You dragged your mouth along the soft skin of his tummy, hands pressing into it to feel the softness of it; dragging the tip of your nose up his happy trail before rounding his naval and sucking a mark into his skin. You loved feeling it under your hands, pressing your cheek into it and nuzzling, just everything about how real he was and how damn good he looked with his cute tummy made you feral for him.

Dieter’s hips jumped again when you began leaving marks all over it, tracing your fingers along the skin, just indulging in showing him how beautiful and sexy this was to you.

“You- you really like my tummy, huh?”

“I love it, Dee.”

Your firm answer made his lips lift into a tentative smile and you couldn’t help but decide he needed to know how much you cared for him, loved him, as he was now. You dragged off your sleep pants and panties in one go, kicking them aside as you tugged your sleep shirt off too, and Dieter moaned at the sight of you standing there in front of him.

“Going to be a good boy and take off your pants?” Your teasing remark made him choke on his own breath before he hurried to get naked, your eyes landing on the four shining silver bars that were decorating the underside of his cock, and your brain definitely shorted out momentarily at the sight. Dieter reached for you and you motioned for him to get on the bed proper, his head hitting the pillows, but you leaned down and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose first.

“I’m going to take care of you, Dee.”

“I know you are, cariño.”

You climbed up on the bed but turned your back to him as you moved to straddle his waist, the wet glide of your pussy against the softness below you made you moan and Dieter’s hands gripped your outer thighs.

“F-fuck, you’re going to ride my tummy? Christ above-“ His already wrecked words turned to a wheezy exhale when you used one hand to brace yourself on his thigh and the other to play with his cock while rolling your hips and grinding down on him. One good lick to your hand, so you could moisten the skin, led you cupping his cock firmly enough to feel good but not to become uncomfortable around his piercings. Dieter’s cock jumped at the touch, throbbing in your hand, and his fingers dug even tighter into your skin as the man uttered curses in Spanish and English beneath you.

He tightened his core and your breathy exhale of pleasure became a long moan, the arousal from earlier combined with having him below you like this was making you throb with the desire to sink down on his cock, and Dieter’s muscles tightened further as his balls pulled up and he spilled all over your hand and onto his abdomen and where you were grinding against him.

“You sound like- fuck you sound like sin. Been wanting this for so long, can’t believe I spilled that soon-“ His frustration at himself disappeared when you shimmed back enough to drop your head down and lick up the cum on his cock after you cleaned your hand, dragging your tongue through the wiry hair to catch every last bit, and his grip on your thighs shifted to drag you back just a little bit more.

“Can I taste you, cariño?” You looked over your shoulder at him with your lower lip trapped in your teeth.

“Are you- I know some men don’t like to-“

“I want to, and if anyone you were with before didn’t they’re idiots.”

You relented with a nod and all you felt was his hot breath before his tongue dragged through your folds; he was absolutely sloppy with the way he smeared your slick and his saliva together on your skin and his tongue dipped into you, your breathy moan made him answer it with a raspy sound of his own while you immediately dropped your head to continue peppering his tummy with kisses and bites. The imprint of your teeth in his skin made your pussy clench, the hickeys sucked into the skin were like a mark, and the possessive need to make sure he had something visible was nearly overwhelming.

Dieter’s lips circled your clit as he sucked, not hard enough to hurt but it was enough to start riding the edge, and as you grabbed his cock to lick up the side of his shaft and play with his piercings the man put his tongue into you as his thumb pressed against your clit and you rocked down against his face with a whine. The crack of skin on skin made you moan in surprise but the spank only made your face feel hot when Dieter practically purred into your pussy before he made sure to rub the skin he’d hit and then do the same on the other side.

You pressed your face into his tummy when he nipped, just lightly enough to not hurt, at your outer lips and Dieter circled your clit with his thumb in a rhythm that began making your muscles clench and your limbs tremble. You could only breathe his name into his skin, his tongue fucking into you in time with his thumb on your clit, and Dieter lapped at you as your orgasm made you press your hips down as close as you could to his face and hand.

He helped you come down slowly, regaining your breath and you yelped when he pushed you forward while sliding back so that your face landed on your sheets while he pressed against your calves to keep you in place.

“Look at you, cariño. Look how you’re fucking soaking for me; you get so fucking wet when you come.” He smeared his fingers through your folds before letting you up so you could turn to face him, the mess on his hand slicking up his cock, and Dieter offered a lazy smile as you kissed him. It was the taste of you on his mouth, the feeling of his curls in your hands as you ran your fingers through it, keeping you grounded as he looked up at you like you’d hung the moon in the sky.

“Before we do anything else, I want you to know that I- I really like you and I want to go on dates with you and support you and be your boyfriend if you’ll have me.” Dieter’s voice was soft and your heart skipped before you nodded with tears starting to blur your vision.

“Nothing would make me happier, Dee.” He grinned against your mouth and you both smiled into the kiss as he pulled and rolled so that he could hover over you instead. Dieter’s mouth stayed on yours as he rubbed the underside of his cock against you, the piercings were odd but not uncomfortable, and as he began pressing into you it was impossible not to moan into his mouth. He hooked one of your legs over his forearm so open you up more, being careful not to move too fast, and the sheer girth of him made you squirm a little as the stretch created a pleasant burn.

He pumped himself back and then pressed into you more, mindful of your expressions, and the balls on the ends of his barbells rubbed along your inner walls with each motion.

“That’s it, nice and slow, just breathe cariño.” Dieter’s encouragement was whispered against your neck, his face pressed into the skin, and you couldn’t help but bring your mouth to his shoulder and begin leaving signs of you there too. He moaned when you began sucking a mark into his skin there and you whimpered when his hips finally slotted fully against yours, the pair of you pausing to just breathe as you adjusted to the feeling of him filling you.

Dieter nuzzled his nose against yours and your mouth slotted together, it was just so easy with him; he wasn’t pushing for more, he was listening to you and knowing he wanted to be with you made this feel so much more special. The kisses weren’t frenzied but they weren’t chaste either, his mouth moving with yours as you twirled his hair on your fingers, and as the stretch around lost the edge of pain you tested the waters by rolling your hips gently and sighing into his mouth.

“You feel so good, Dieter. F-fuck, please move-“ You felt the way he planted one hand on the mattress, the one your leg was hitched up around, and the other took one of your hands and squeezed tightly as he drew back slow. You could feel every inch and every part of his piercings as he rolled his hips forward, your other leg lifting to hook around his thigh, and Dieter’s mouth met yours as he began to fuck you.

The drag of his pierced cock was different, a good different, and he moaned when you used your leverage on his arm and thigh to raise your hips off the bed and grind against him with each thrust. The hand holding yours let go so he could wrap that arm around your lower back, helping hold your lower body off the bed and pressing your bodies together so you could feel him. The softness of his tummy against yours, the feel of his cock dragging through your pussy, all of it was so good and his teeth sank into your lower lip before he soothed that with his tongue while you whimpered his name.

And he wasn’t silent either.

“Fuck, cariño your pussy is like Heaven.”

“You’re so tight, so fucking warm; I can feel your muscles fluttering around me.”

“Look at you, I fucking love looking at you. Most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

“Wanna do so many things to you, wanna show you off, wanna fuck you in a limo on the way to a premiere-“

That particular fantasy made your face feel hot and you choked on your own saliva at the idea of going to some red carpet event with his cum leaking down your leg. Dieter noticed and you clenched around him when he growled at you, at the fact that you liked that particular fantasy, and your best friend –now boyfriend- shifted the angle of your body in a way that made you see stars as he ground his hips against yours.

“Fuck- Dieter I’m-“

“I can feel it, I know you’re close, give me a good one cariño.”

He sank his teeth into your neck and you were done, muscles locking down against his harsh thrusts and the piercings only added to the feeling, the hand in his hair gripped tight and Dieter wheezed as his hips jerked and he spilled into you, the pair of you practically writhing together as you both rode out the aftershocks. Every part of your body was tingling, from your scalp to your toes, and Dieter rubbed his nose against yours as he let your leg down gently and then tugged you so you were lying on your side facing him.

His soft cock slipped out of you, the combined drip of your slick and his spend began to dribble out of your body and Dieter kissed you before disappearing to fetch a warm damp washcloth to clean you up. You reached for him after he was done, and the cloth was back in the bathroom, and he smiled as he slid back onto the bed so you could tangle your legs with his and trace patterns on his tummy as you nuzzled his cheek with your nose.

“That was amazing, though I don’t know how I feel that you didn’t tell me about your piercings.” Dieter chuckled and turned his head so he could kiss you fully as he let his thumb brush against your lower lip while cupping your cheek.

“Can’t tell you why it’s not public knowledge, thought by now someone would’ve spilled the secret for money.”

“You’re a good guy, Dee, they probably respect you too much to do that.”

“Maybe, you always see the good in me cariño.”

“One of us has to.”

He kissed you again and you basked in the knowledge that this wasn’t going to be the only time you had him like this, the knowledge that he wanted you, and when he pulled you closer to his body you went willingly as you played with the scruff of his beard.

“It won’t be easy, since I’m famous.”

“I don’t care if it’s hard, Dieter, I want you and everything that comes with it.”

“Then you have me, I’m yours.”

All Fics Taglist: @hardc0rehaylz @wordsnwhiskey @pagannightwitch @radiowallet @musings-of-a-rose

Just Pedro Taglist: @maievdenoir @beecastle @littlemisspascal @writeforfandoms

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 17

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo X OFC Smut Warning - Minors DNI New as of 8/18/2023

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Series Rating: Explicit (18+)

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives. 

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Quote: “Can you please stop fucking teasing me?”

I could tell he was leaving the choice to me. He wasn’t going to continue unless I gave him a clear indication that I wanted to. He had always taken my lead on these things, and I was finally breaking. I pulled him down to me, our lips crashing together into a passionate kiss. Our tongues tangled together without hesitation.

He ran both of his hands up the back side of my thighs, until he reached my ass. He grabbed my flesh tightly, pulling me toward the edge of the island. I could feel his hardness pressing into my center. 

He broke away and started kissing down my neck as he palmed my breast with one hand and supported me with the other. I leaned backward to give him better access, arching my back into him. I put one of my arms back behind me for support. My hand met with the plate of food I had just abandoned, knocking it onto the floor. The sound of glass shattering not phasing us. 

Dieter slowly lowered me all the way onto the island. I was again met with an offending dish as I laid my head back. I reached up and shoved it out of the way onto the floor. It clattered loudly. He pulled the straps of my dress down, exposing me while he worked his way down my body. I reached to pull his shirt off over his head and quickly discarded it on the floor. 

He hiked my dress above my hips, rubbing roughly at my thighs as he admired the black lace. A small smirk formed on his lips. “I’ve been thinking about these damn things all night. My imagination did not do them justice.” I gave him a flirty smirk in response.

He picked up my leg, kissing and sucking at my ankle. He slowly worked his way down, eventually propping my leg on his shoulder. When he reached my knee, he used his other hand to start rubbing at my center where he found I was already a wet mess. He rubbed lightly at first, but slowly increased the pressure. He was driving me crazy. 

“Can you please stop fucking teasing me?”

He chuckled, “Yes ma’am.” 

He slid his fingers underneath my panties and sunk them in deep causing me to gasp and writhe beneath him. He continued to suck and nip at my inner thigh with his teeth, which was sending jolts directly to my core. I reached down and slid my hand into the waistband of my panties to rub at the sensitive area, eliciting a deep groan from him. He watched my motions intently as he continued the steady rhythm with his fingers, hitting just the right spot deep inside me. It wasn’t long before I was rocked with a powerful rush of pleasure. My body tensed, causing me to arch off of the counter until the euphoric feeling dissipated. I collapsed, trying to catch my breath while I continued to tremble from the pulsating aftershocks.   

Dieter lowered my leg, quickly slid my panties off, then reached to pull me back upward into his arms. He kissed me softly, giving me a minute to come down from the high I had just experienced. Once I was coherent again, I reached for his belt buckle and made quick work of undoing his pants. He discarded those on the floor, then grabbed hold of my hips, sliding me to the edge of the island again. In one swift motion, he entered me all the way. I gasped in pleasure while he paused briefly to give me a moment to adjust to the full length of him. When he began to move again, it was deep, hard thrusts that made my toes curl and legs tighten around his waist. His hands grasped my hips firmly as he pulled me to meet him with each thrust. I could feel each of his fingertips digging into my skin in the most delicious way. 

As he picked up the pace, I tangled one hand in his hair, pulling it roughly. The other hand alternated between squeezing his upper arm and digging into his back, leaving deep fingernail marks behind. He groaned from the pleasantly painful sensation it caused. I grazed his neck with my teeth, lightly nipping and sucking while he continued his movements. He dropped his head to my shoulder as he reached down to rub the bundle of nerves between my legs, gruffly insisting that I come for him again. It didn’t take long once he added his fingers to his motions. I completely unraveled on him as the prickly sensation radiated throughout my body for a second time. His pace quickened when he felt me tensing. His thrusts became more erratic as he followed with his own release.

We leaned into each other's bodies trying to catch our breath, sweaty and absolutely spent. This time had been different than before. There was so much tension that had built between us that the snap caused an outpouring of pure need and carnal desire. The roughness of it, only maximizing the pleasure. It was exactly what we needed at the moment. 

He raised his head to look at me and brushed my damp hair back off my forehead. We gave each other lazy smiles before he leaned down to kiss me again. 

“Are you ok? That wasn’t too much was it?” He asked against my lips. 

“It was fucking perfect,” I said as my smile widened against his.    

We spent several minutes gently getting reacquainted with each other. Placing small kisses and caresses anywhere we could reach. Eventually, the kisses turned into something deeper and more sensual. Dieter started to massage my thighs and pressed in closer against me.  

“You feel like going for another round?” He whispered in his husky voice against my lips. I responded with open mouthed kisses. I sucked on his pouty bottom lip, dragging my teeth across it as I pulled away. He puckered his lips slightly as he fought a grin and shook his head up and down. 

“Ok then. That was new and also fucking hot.” I smiled up at him, biting at my own lip. 

The look I gave him left no questions. “Yep, let’s go,” he responded through laughter. He slid his hands under my thighs and lifted me off the counter.  I squealed, grabbing hold around his shoulders and tightened my legs around his waist. He carried me to the bedroom in the dark, then tossed me onto the bed. I crawled over to the edge and asked him to unzip my dress.

“I swear, if the fucking zipper gets stuck again, I'm gonna absolutely lose my mind,” he muttered. I couldn’t help the fit of laughter that overtook me. He started to struggle with it, mostly because I couldn’t be still from laughing. He chuckled at me while he tried to work it loose. He eventually got it down far enough to pull the dress off over my head.

We tumbled to the bed, both of us back to business, with the deep sensual kisses we had started in the kitchen. He pulled himself above me and settled in between my legs. Slowly entering me for a second time that evening. For round two, we took our time. Savoring every movement, touch, and kiss. Furthering the emotional connection that bonded us from the beginning. We moved in tandem, slowly, gazing into each other's eyes throughout. There was no panic or fear from the intensity of it. We welcomed it this time. Craved it even. 

Once Dieter was close to finishing, he reached down between us to rub between my folds. His fingers moved in time with his thrusts, causing my body to tense for another release. As soon as he felt my muscles clench down on him, he increased speed, coming with me. Both of us moaned loudly as I arched up into him and he buried his face under my chin. 

I fell back onto the bed, my breathing ragged. My fingers were still tangled in his sweaty hair. After a few moments, he raised his head and kissed my chin. Then kissed again softly on my lips before rubbing his nose against mine. We sat like that for several minutes. Just being present and in the moment with each other. No other thoughts or feelings imposing on us. 

I realized I could no longer ignore my feelings. I had fallen for him a long time ago. Maybe it happened in New York, or maybe it happened the day he found me again. I wasn’t sure, but there was no denying it anymore. I was in love with him and for the first time in a long time, or maybe ever, I felt blissfully happy.             

Dieter eventually scooted down between my legs, so that his cheek was laying on my chest. He was on his stomach with his arms tucked into my sides. I gently ran my fingers through the back of his hair for several minutes, eventually realizing he had fallen asleep. I could feel my eyes getting heavy too, so I reached over and attempted to fold the blanket over us. I drifted off soon after. 

My alarm for work went off at 6AM the next morning. We both groaned as I blindly reached toward the nightstand to turn it off. I was feeling the events from the previous night. I had a headache and a serious case of cottonmouth. I was also absolutely burning up. I glanced down at Dieter. He hadn’t moved all night. He was still laying on top of me with the cover over both of us. 

I scratched at his head. He hummed at the sensation as he lifted himself up. We were both sweating. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that, cariño.”

“You’re fine. I didn’t mind.”

He leaned up to kiss me, before he sunk down on the bed beside me. 

“Ugh, I feel like death, but also like I had a night of amazing sex,” he said with a small laugh. 

“That is so relatable.” I responded with a chuckle. 

I sighed heavily, “I can’t do work. I think I might actually take a personal day. I’m hungover and my body has been absolutely wrecked, in the best way possible.”

He laughed as he laid his arm across my stomach, gently rubbing my side with his fingertips. 

“Do you know where my phone is?”

“I don’t even know where my clothes are.” We both burst into laughter. We were so ridiculous last night. 

“I’m gonna go find my phone and text Aubrey that I’m taking the day off…and also get some water. And maybe some pain relievers. You need anything?”

“All the above.”

I leaned down and kissed him, “I’ll be right back.” We gave each other a small smile before I crawled out of bed in the very dimly lit room. The only light sneaking in from the perimeter of the black out curtains. I found my robe and threw it on as I walked toward the living room. I found my phone and clutch discarded on the couch. I picked up my phone and shot a quick text to Aubrey letting her know that I wasn’t feeling that great, so I was going to take the day off. She immediately texted back and asked if I was dying because I never took days off. I assured her that I was fine before throwing my phone back down on the couch. 

I walked into the kitchen, which was still lit from the light on the hood above the stove and the dim morning sun creeping in. I just stood there staring at the mess. I could tell it was bad but didn’t bother to turn the overhead light on to see properly. I managed to make it over to the refrigerator without stepping in anything and grabbed a couple of waters. I reached around to the cabinet beside the refrigerator to grab a bottle of Excedrin. As I came back through, I noticed Dieter’s clothes on the floor. I walked back toward the bedroom shaking my head. 

When I got back into the bedroom, Dieter was coming back from the bathroom. I watched as his naked form crawled back into the bed and settled in under the comforter. I handed him a water and pain reliever before taking one myself. After we both drank half a bottle of water, I finally spoke. 

“I think the kitchen may be a disaster zone.”  He sighed heavily before allowing a wide smile to creep across his face. 

“Worth it.” 

“You may not say that after you see it in the light of day.” 

“Let's not worry about that right now, ok?”  He drew his brows down together and scrunched his face as he spoke. 

“Oh, I’m not worried about it right now. I’m worrying about peeing and going back to sleep.”

He laughed at me. I ran to the bathroom, quickly peed, then shuffled toward the bed, discarding my robe before climbing in. Dieter reached his arms out toward me. I crawled over to him and settled in with my back to his chest. He wrapped his arms around me tightly. We were both asleep again within minutes.    

I was later awoken by Dieter lightly grazing his fingers down my side and hip, then back up again. I glanced up at the clock. It was a little after eleven. I grabbed his hand and threaded our fingers together. Resting them on my hip. I twisted so that I could look up at him. He was propped up on his elbow, looking down at me with a smirk on his face. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“I think you have spaghetti sauce in your hair.”

I let my head fall back down onto the pillow and sighed. I gave him an exasperated look before we both started to laugh.

“I think we both need a shower,” he said as he leaned down to kiss me.  

We spent several minutes having a small make out session before we finally pulled ourselves away from each other to head toward the bathroom. I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I looked like a hot fucking mess. And yes, I had spaghetti sauce all in the back of my hair and a very visible hickey on my neck. 

I looked up as Dieter walked in, he paused briefly, looking me over. He walked up beside me and rubbed at my hip and the back side of my thigh with concern on his face. 

“Damn, you ok, cariño?” I met his eyes, confused. He turned me so that I could see my hip and back side in the mirror. I had very obvious bruises. I think mostly from the edge of the counter digging into the back of my thighs, but some were definitely from fingers. I laughed.

“Can’t say that’s happened before.”

He looked a little upset by it. 

“I’m sorry, I was too rough.”

“No, it was perfect. If you had been hurting me, I would’ve told you.” 

I pulled him in for a kiss, catching sight of his back and arms in the mirror. He had fingernail marks and scratches clearly visible. The back of his left arm also looked slightly bruised. 

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I got a little too rough with you too it seems.” I said with a smirk. 

He turned to look over his shoulder, his eyes widened at the sight before a grin spread across his face. 

“Also, you have spaghetti sauce in your hair too.” We both started laughing at the absurdity of our actions the previous night, before continuing the kiss I had started. 

We eventually made our way to the shower and got in. Attentively washing each other, careful of the tender areas and occasionally stopping to have a brief make out session. Nothing more than that though because I was starting to feel a little sore. After we finished, I found my bathrobe and threw it on. I brushed out my hair and left it to air dry. Dieter fished out a pair of gym shorts from his bag that still sat in the bedroom.  

We both slowly wandered into the kitchen, pausing in the entryway as I flipped on the light. 

“Fucking hell,” he said as he surveyed the mess with a chuckle. 

We both moved to start cleaning up. There was broken glass scattered about and sauce splattered everywhere on the floor and lower cabinets. It was comical. 

I bent down and started wiping the floor, “Ugh, I think it stained the grout.” I could hear Dieter quietly laughing behind me.

My attention was then drawn to Lauren calling from downstairs. Dieter yelled to let her know we were in the kitchen. She came walking in, then abruptly stopped when she caught sight of us cleaning the mess.

“What the hell?” She exclaimed. I glanced up at her and grimaced. 

“In my wasted state last night, I dropped the spaghetti.” 

Her eyes scanned us. She looked like she was trying to decipher a puzzle. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you were working this morning?” I asked her.

“Well, I’m on my lunch break. I’ve been texting and calling you both all morning and you haven’t answered. I wanted to make sure you’re still alive.” 

“I’m sorry, we slept in. We just got up.” 

“We?” Lauren asked with a smirk forming on her face. I paused for a moment, realizing my slip. I hadn’t told Lauren that Dieter had been staying with me at night. 

“Yes, we. We got back late.”  

Her eyes darted between me and Dieter as an awkward silence took hold. He turned to pull the bag out of the trash can and her eyes widened as she caught sight of his back. 

“Holy shit. You guys had sex, didn’t you?”

In my periphery, I saw Dieter’s head and shoulders drop as he realized what had prompted her. I sighed heavily and ran my hand down my face. 

“It’s about damn time. It was getting ridiculous,” Lauren added. 

Dieter turned, his face tinged with red as he spoke, “I’m gonna take the trash out, because, you know, broken glass.” He grimaced slightly at his tone.

“Yeah, thanks for that. I appreciate it.” I said to him sarcastically. He was leaving me to deal with this one by myself. He gave me a nervous look and shrugged as he walked out. 

I stood as we both watched his retreating form. Lauren turned to me, a wide smile on her face. 

“So, are you guys like, together now?”

I sighed again as I rolled my eyes, “I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it. We’ve literally only been up long enough to take a shower. We had fucking spaghetti sauce all over us. So don’t mention anything and make it weird. Please.” 

“Wait, did you guys have sex in the kitchen? Oh geez, please bleach every surface. I eat food prepared in here,” she said with a snort laugh. I rolled my eyes at her again. She paused, staring at my neck. She reached over to pull my hair back. 

“You have a giant hickey. Nice. I take it he wrecked you properly, yeah?” I couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up out of me as I felt my face heat up. 

“You have no idea.” 

She burst out laughing as that wasn’t the response she expected. Dieter came back in, eyeing us both nervously as we stifled our laughs. 

“Please don’t tell me what’s so funny, I’m not sure if my ego can handle it,” he said jokingly. 

That set us off on another round of laughter, while he silently worked to put another bag in the trash can with a smirk on his face. 

“Well, now that I know you’re alive, I’m going back to work. I guess I should say congratulations for getting laid? Happy humping? I hope you both had an orgasmic experience? I’m not sure what the proper sentiment is in this situation,” she said with a pensive look on her face. Dieter finally broke and started laughing at her. 

“Alright, that’s enough from you. Get out of here,” I said while pushing her to leave, trying to contain the smile threatening to break free. 

Dieter and I worked in silence while we continued to clean. After I was done with the kitchen, I went to check the bed. Thanks to the mess that had been in my hair, the sheets needed washing too. I quickly stripped those. Dieter helped me put some clean ones on, then immediately crawled back into the bed. I laughed at him.

I dropped the bedding off in the laundry room. I dug through the pile of clean laundry sitting on the dryer in a basket and found one of his t-shirts. I discarded my bathrobe on top of the dirty laundry pile and went to join him in bed. 

We spent all afternoon napping, cuddling, and kissing. We had sex again, twice. Though these times were a lot softer and gentler. We took our time, worshiping each other’s bodies. Memorizing every curve, freckle, and scar. It was by far one of the most intimate days of my existence. 

As the hour grew later, we realized that we needed to get up and make ourselves presentable. We were supposed to have dinner at Gabby’s. By this point, her place was on normal rotation for our Friday night dinners. I threw on his worn band t-shirt and jeans. I tried to tame my hair but gave up and ended up doing a messy bun. I had to go a little heavier on the makeup to cover a few spots on my neck, thanks to Dieter. He went with gym shorts, a t-shirt, hat, and flip-flops. We were both unusually casual, even for a Friday night with family and friends.

On the drive over, he held my hand the entire time. Occasionally pulling it to his lips as he snuck glances at me. When we got to Gabby’s, he entered without knocking. Pulling me by the hand behind him while we walked toward the kitchen. He greeted his sister when we walked in. She turned and her eyes instantly fell to our joined hands. She didn’t say anything, but a wide smile spread across her face as she came over to hug us. 

Alex was already there, leaning against the counter with a drink in his hand. Lauren arrived soon after. Shaun and the kids eventually came in from the back yard to join us. He got them settled at the table while he and Gabby prepared their plates. 

During dinner, Dieter seemed very smiley and talkative with everyone. He was completely relaxed and very affectionate toward me. Stealing glances and smiling at me every chance he got. As we sat talking to the group he would put his arm around the back of my chair, hold my hand, or rub the inside of my knee with his thumb. These actions weren’t out of the ordinary for us. We often sought physical touch when we were near each other, especially if one of us was anxious. However, it was obvious to everyone sitting at the table that the vibe between us was different. It was less about comfort and more about staying connected. I noticed the looks they were giving us and each other. Lauren of course knew things were different, but she kept that information to herself. 

Gabby was in a very enthusiastic mood the entire evening. I got the feeling that she could sense things shifting between Dieter and me. I think it made her hopeful for him and excited at the prospect that he may finally be moving on with his life. Enjoying it even. 

Even though I was a little distracted throughout dinner, it did not go unnoticed that Lauren and Alex were chatting with each other. At certain points, they had even leaned in closely to talk quietly amongst themselves. They seemed almost a little too familiar given that they hadn’t spent much time together. When I noticed it, I tapped Dieter on the leg and nodded toward them. He looked over, slightly tilting his head to the side as he raised an eyebrow in their direction. He watched them for a second before turning back to me and shrugging. I made a mental note to ask her about that later.  

Once dinner was over, we all helped Gabby clean up before heading out. We said our goodbyes and made our way back to my house. I collapsed onto the couch as soon as we got inside. I suddenly felt exhausted and sore. Dieter had noticed the occasional wince as I moved throughout the evening. Several times asking if I was ok. 

“You want me to run you a bath? It might help.” he said tenderly as he looked down at me. I don’t know why, but the offer shocked me a little. It isn’t one I had ever gotten before. It was amazing how often he surprised me with his compassion and care. I was still getting used to having that in my life. 

“That actually sounds amazing. Only do it if you plan to join me though.” 

I gave him a flirty grin. He laughed at me as he walked toward the bedroom. 

“Make sure it’s scalding please!” I yelled after him. He waved his hand dismissively as he disappeared down the hallway.  

Dieter appeared a few minutes later to let me know the water was ready. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up off the couch and shooed me toward the bedroom. I gave him a quizzical look as I walked toward the bath. When I entered the bathroom, I found that he had the lights dimmed and had added bubbles. He was too damn cute. I immediately peeled my clothes off and slowly sunk down into the water. It felt amazing on my aching and sore muscles. 

Dieter appeared just after I had fully submerged myself. He came bearing water and pain relievers. 

“Ugh, my hero,” I muttered as I took his offering. He smiled at me before he proceeded to undress. I scooted forward so he could settle in behind me. Once he was situated, I sat the bottle of water on the floor and leaned back against his chest, dropping my head backward against him. He rested his face on the top of my head as he rubbed and massaged at my arms and shoulders. I hummed in appreciation. 

“Why are you so amazing?” I asked him as I closed my eyes. He chuckled as he kissed the side of my forehead. 

We sat in silence for a while. I could tell something was now on his mind. He seemed to be tensing up. I draped my left hand over his thigh and drew lazy circles with my finger on the back side of it. 

“What’s going through that mind of yours?” I asked him quietly.  

He let out a small huff, “How do you always know when something’s on my mind?”

“I don’t know, I can sense it. Your energy changes. I’m sure it's the same way you sense it with me. Tell me, please. What is it?” 

He let out a heavy sigh. 

“I’m just worried about leaving again. This movie shoot that’s coming up, it’s five months. A week was bad enough. What if I’m not ready for that? I honestly think the only reason I’ve done so well is because of you. I’m not sure I can do it without you being with me.”

I sat up and twisted to face him, he looked broken again. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. I reached up to cup his face, forcing him to look at me. 

“I told you; we’ll figure it out. It’s not the full five months. I can come visit you for extended periods. You can call me at any time of the day. We’ll make it work.”

“It’s not that simple. It’s long hours and there are gonna be a lot of night shoots. My schedule is gonna be crazy. I won’t be able to call you every night like last time. My routine is gonna be fucked.”    

I turned fully facing him, pulling him to me as I slid my legs around his waist, hugging him to me tightly. He laid his head on my shoulder while I ran my hand through his messy hair. He loosely wrapped his arms around me. 

My stomach suddenly felt like an empty pit. It occurred to me that I really didn’t know how bad it could get. I didn’t know how bad he was before. It must have been worse than I could imagine, otherwise, why would he be so scared of the possibilities?  

He eventually raised his head to look at me, then reached up to pull me in for a chaste kiss. He sat with his forehead against mine for a moment. His eyes closed in thought. He leaned back and looked at me intently as he rubbed the side of my face. 

“I know this is completely out of left field, but do you think you can take Monday and Tuesday off work?” 

My brows drew down together. I was confused by the look in his eye and his tone. It was different. Determined. 

“Yeah, I’m sure it won’t be an issue. Why?”  

“I wanna take you somewhere.” 

I gave him a confused smile, “Where?”

“Sonoma.” 

“Why? What’s in Sonoma?” 

He looked conflicted about his answer. He knitted his brows together before answering.

“Can you just trust me and not ask any questions?”

I was a little stunned by his response. It was unexpected and odd.

“Of course, I trust you. I’d go anywhere for you.”  

He gave me one of his brilliant smiles before pulling me into another passionate kiss.

A/N: So, for those of you that guessed Talia was the culprit, good job! As if there was really any question. We know Dieter is a perfect gentleman. 🤣 I know this was a hot topic on the teaser post. We now know they are going to Sonoma, but not the specifics as to where or why. The location is somewhere Dieter has been to in the past. That is all you are getting out of me on that topic. You will find out the details the same time Talia does. 🤐 I'm going to warn you now. Their little get away is going to get very angsty. We are going to learn a lot of things in the next chapter. It is going to cover some heavy topics. Truth be told, the last half of the next chapter is the very first part that I wrote for the series because it's that important. A teaser will be posted on Monday (8/21). The full chapter will follow within a day or so. 😬

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