#dieter bravo brainrot

[beefrobeefcal]

Alone Together feat. Dieter Bravo

Summary: Dieter is alone by his own doing for Christmas, and so are you.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader | Rating: Teen but still MDNII | Word Count: 2,293

Content Warnings: the holiday morbs, Dieter being a jerk, wine consumption but no is drunk, brief mention of politics, referenced dislike of sappy holiday movies, black cats, kissing, mentions of sex but no smut (who am I?),

Author's Notes: hello beloved @rulexofxnines - it is I, your DB Brainrot Secret Santa! I do hope I met your request for holiday feels and our darling Dieter. Thanks to @sp00kymulderr for organizing!

Thanks to @strang3lov3 for her eyes, minds, thots and love - I wouldn't have had the gumption during this stressful holiday season to get this done without you. 🥩💜🐛 Thanks also to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

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Your neighbour was an asshole, that much was true. Belligerent to delivery workers, rude to his house staff… You even stood in your kitchen and watched him throw a boot at his most recent stylist as he chased them out of his front door. 

In the year and a half that you’d been Dieter Bravo’s neighbour, he had done nothing to show you he was anything less than a douchecanoe. You’d made up your mind about him after your one and only one interaction; he was dragging his garbage can back from the curb and he gave you a once over and said, “Nice.” with a nod and gross smile. Your less-than-charitable facial expression in response was met with a scowled huff from him before he disappeared back into his house.

Sure, he was an actor who did walk on parts on primetime tv dramas now, but back in the day, he was more than a bit part. You wouldn’t have called yourself a fan, but you didn’t deny that he was attractive and a good actor… and even now, he was still attractive, even if the acting part wasn’t as true anymore.

The week earlier, you’d received a very fancy note telling you that while you weren’t invited, Dieter would be hosting a large, extravagant party on this day and he was only giving the neighbourhood a head’s up because his lawyer had told him to. Even if outwardly you were coldly ambivalent towards the note, you couldn’t deny the initial thrill you had when you thought it may actually be an invite followed by the immediate disappointment and deflation of your ego.

Even though he was an asshole, you still felt an inexplicable pull towards him. Little did you know that Dieter felt that same pull towards you.

He was painfully aware of the horrible first impression he’d left on you, and he knew you weren't immune to the stories that were told about him and his arrogance. A small part of him had wanted to reach out to you, but it was squashed each time you’d break eye contact with an eye roll or a slight grimace. As much as he felt that pull, he also felt irritated at your assumed uninterest in him, the Dieter Bravo.

You had both made assumptions about one another - some well informed while others were a bit more misguided - yet neither of you had the ability to not have your attention drawn to one another the moment you were in each other’s peripherals. 

This was going to be your first christmas alone in your home. Last year, you’d opted to spend the holidays at your parents house with all of your family, but given the results of the recent election, you didn’t feel like hearing extended family’s opinions, and thusly, you were staying put. You’d decorated a small, counter top tree and splurged on a few gifts for you and your cats, VOID and Nugget, and you’d gotten a small chicken to roast like a turkey; you were set.

You began to settle in for a quiet Christmas Eve, even if you didn’t want to admit that you really weren’t digging the ‘alone for the holidays’ plans you’d made now nearly as much. Knowing that Dieter was hosting what you assumed would be a very large and noisy party, you had your wireless headphones charged, a ridiculous stockpile of Christmas cookies, and your appetizers in the air fryer; you were as ready as you could be for whatever your neighbour had in store for you.

A few hours and two really terrible Christmas movies later, you noted that there were no cars outside Dieter’s home, nor was there any noise. You’d not even bothered with your headphones - waiting until you actually needed them - and you hadn’t even needed to shut the blinds on the windows that faced his house. 

It was weird. Quiet and weird. 

You got up and looked out your kitchen window and what you saw almost broke your heart. There was Dieter, sitting with his head in his hands on his front steps alone. From your vantage point, you watched as he lifted his head and looked out into the dark street in front of him and sigh. 

Your mind was suddenly at odds with itself. You could turn and go back to another crappy Christmas movie with your cats on the couch, or you could take the chance to fill the need for human connection on Christmas Eve with someone who could either accept or rudely deny you. 

You chose the former, feeling that pull towards him again, and grabbed the big container of Christmas cookies, then headed out your front door.

Dieter’s head shot up as you approached him and the certainty you felt began to wither as his eyes locked on yours and all those memories of how terrible he could be started to force their way to the front of your mind, and your steps slowed.

“Hey… I-”

The loud, groaned sigh he let out interrupted you and you felt yourself shrink a bit. You couldn’t quite tell if the sound was born of irritation at your unsolicited arrival or embarrassment at being seen so dejected. 

When he rolled his eyes and motioned towards the container in your hands, you had your answer. 

“Oh, so you just thought you’d drop by even though you weren’t invited, huh?”, he scoffed sarcastically, but there was a sadness and a vulnerability lingering in the cold glare he gave you.

Your defences came up against your better judgement, and your eyes narrowed. All the holly jollies in your body evaporated, and you spat out,  “The party, you mean? You mean the one that looks like no one showed up for?”

He frowned angrily and stood up, stepping towards you. This action alone made you feel a warmth bloom in your chest, but the moment his finger pointed at you sternly, that warmth at his proximity soured. Just as he was about to open his mouth, you shoved the container of cookies into his chest.

“Merry fuckin’ Christmas, asshole.”

You didn’t bother to wait for his response, instead opting to turn and storm back into your house and slam the door. You kicked off your boots, cursing him under your breath, at both him and his attitude and you and your conflicting feelings. You spooked your cats as you stomped into your kitchen and ripped open the fridge to grab your bottle of wine. Still muttering to yourself, you poured a glass and downed the whole thing in one go. As you were about to pour your second glass, there was a knock at the door. 

You froze, mid-pour, almost overfilling your glass, feeling that warth fight to come to the surface and bleed all over you. Putting the bottle down and picking up your glass, you listened, then another knock happened. You knew it was him and, if you were honest, you were both elated at the idea he was seeking you out and terrified because you had shoved a plastic rubbermaid container into his chest and he could say it was assault and he could afford a better lawyer than you, and -

Another knock followed by, “Hello? I know you’re home.”

It was stupid but it was true. He knew you were home because he watched you go in, and you knew he knew that because you knew he watched you go in. 

You sighed and put the glass down and went down to your door and opened it a crack. 

“Yes, I am home.” Stupid. He knows you’re home, dumbass.

He moves closer to the door and leans his face closer to the opening. “Yeah. I know.”  Jesus, his eyes are brown. And pretty. Shit.

You suck in a breath and snip back, “Yeah, I know you know.” He smells nice, too. Stop it.

You both stared at each other for a beat before he let out a breath and his shoulders dropped. His face looked as sad as his voice sounded. “I’m not an asshole.”

The look on your own face betrayed you with a perfect mix of confusion and sympathy and Dieter must have taken that as his in; he put his hand on your door and gently pushed it open, softly forcing you back. He stepped into your entryway enough to close the door behind him and he stood in front of you, container of cookies still in his grasp… in his large hands with thick fingers… shit shit shit! Stop it! It was then you noted how dressed up he was: a nice deep green velvet suit with matching tie and dress shirt. His hair was done and his patchy beard was cleaned up, and you noted the telltale marks on his lovely nose that said he’d been wearing glasses. 

You suddenly realized how dry your mouth was, making your saliva thick. What was in this man’s cologne? 

As you allowed your eyes to trial over him, he was doing the same, taking in your Christmas sweater with little skeletons in Santa hats on it. You had no makeup on and your hair was kind of a mess. You caught him looking you over and felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over you and looked away from him, clearing your throat. 

“I’m not always an asshole.”, he said softly.

Your gaze snapped up to him once again, and you found your confidence in the vulnerability he was giving you in his own eyes. “Not always?”

A small smile tugged at one side of his mouth and he looked down at the container in his hands. “Yeah… just was a huge asshole without reprieve this year.”

You felt his words tug at your heart strings and you saw Dieter as he truly was - alone by his own doing. 

“Want to come in for a drink? I have wine…”, you motioned your hand towards the few stairs up into the living room. He nodded and followed you.

It was now well past midnight, officially December 25th, and you and Dieter had been talking for hours. You had told him how lonely you were, living by yourself with your cats in a new city and far away from the comforts of familiarity.

He admitted he knew he was driving everyone out of his life, but he didn’t know how to stop it. Between the party being a failure and you calling him an asshole but still giving - albeit harshly - the cookies to him, he finally admitted to himself that he truly was alone, just like you.

“Why?”, you asked softly, placing your hand on his, and his other hand in turn covered yours.

“I don’t know… maybe I’m a narcissist or a sociopath… or had a bad childhood or too much money, I don’t know, but I do know that I don’t like where it got me.”

You nodded and he looked at you, a small smile on his lips. “You know, I always wanted to get to know you.”

“Yeah?” You couldn’t help but return the same smile. 

“Yeah. I guess I was just used to people coming to me and when you didn’t, I-”, he shrugged. “I guess I figured you’d rather be alone than get to know me.”

You looked at him, feeling a pang of guilt at his softness in the moment. You opened your mouth to speak but whatever you were going to say was caught in your throat when his hand came up to your cheek. His big brown eyes bored into yours and his face came closer. 

His voice was soft and his eyes flicked down to your lips before coming back. “I think you and I, we could maybe make being alone together a thing.”

You nodded and Dieter leaned in and kissed you. Softly, almost tentatively, as if he was waiting for your cue to delve deeper. As soon as you opened your lips slightly in the kiss, Dieter took his chance.

“Hon - you ready? Guests are showing up in ten minutes!”, you called up the stairs. 

Dieter appeared at the top, his shirt unbuttoned and his hair in clips as the style set. “I’m - ten minutes? Really?”

You nodded with a smile and he ran back into the bedroom to finish getting ready.

The past year had been nothing short of an R-rated Hallmark Holiday movie. Dieter and you had moved fast in your relationship, sex that very first night had entwined you two together, and neither of you were willing to try anything less than full throttle and you’d moved in with him after less than three months of dating. You had both felt like this was meant to be and his ego and your first impressions of him had delayed the inevitable, and now you were making up for lost time.

Dieter had started to try and mend the broken relationships - some successful, others not - and you felt he had taken every rejection as gracefully as he received forgiveness. It had taken some convincing on your part to get him to agree to try hosting another Christmas Eve party, but here you were, readying the house and hoping for a good turnout. 

A few hours into the party, You watched as Dieter moved through the room, smile on his face as he greeted each guest, noting his hand in his pocket, but not giving it another thought.

Dieter caught glimpses of you as he chatted and talked with the people in the room, his fingers deftly playing with the ring he was going to give you at midnight in his pocket. He wanted to officially make sure you knew you would never be alone again.

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[nerdieforpedro]

Thank you! I grinned while writing it so I'm happy it's cute. 🥰

Barefoot in a Twilight Zone

Dieter Bravo x plus size AFAB reader

Rating: Teen

My blog is for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: approx 1.1k (I even edited it and couldn’t get it below 1k 😭)

Warnings: mild intoxication, a fall, a flash, that carpet, dated references, alien talk, one pull, a few innuendos, some smoke

Summery: Getting out of the house to a party is great until it’s not. Things are weird. A little less so with Dieter.

Notes: My entry for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub May Drabble challenge. 💚👽👽👽👾 I did really try to keep under 1000 words. Nerdie is wordy 👀 It was at 1.3k so…I did better? 🤣 Anywho I hope it gives you a giggle at the references or just the story itself. 🤭

Prompt: “Do you believe in aliens?”

Trope: Meet-cute

Main Masterlist / Dieter Bravo Masterlist / Writing Challenges

The neon green dress is the main part of your costume and so are the three inch thick black flip flops you thought were cute, but now are impossibly heavy. You added silver and green costume jewelry in addition to a headband with little white spiral bouncy balls on them. It was a good idea coming to this party. At first, you were having fun, dancing, drinking a bit, but that was before you tipped over in these damn flip flops and fell. You didn’t see the small step that led into the middle of the room.

The bottom of your dress went over your head and your panties were exposed to everyone. Adding to the alien theme, you wore black panties with little green oval alien faces on them. It was a cute idea and a private joke to yourself. It was now known to everyone. Some laughed, most people stared and thankfully, one person helped you up - no costume for him. He had on a tan button down shirt, sunglasses inside, brown striped pajama pants and no shoes? “You alright? Come on.” Given that he was helping you up, it wasn’t the worst idea.

The two of you end up in a different section of the house, facing a pool. A gray robe is draped over one of the chairs, by this time, you’ve straightened out your dress and re-adjusted your bra. That shifted too and it felt like each breast had their own rules on rejecting gravity. This guy pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of you, looking rather confused and a bit disheveled. He pulls up the picture on his phone and shows you your dress and a woman who is wearing a similar dress to yours. Hers looks tailored to fit her slender body and has some gold on it. “You look like a sexy sixties alien. I like the green on you. The silver looks better and matches your cute panties.” You could only laugh at the last line as does he, it’s not like everyone hadn’t seen them. He’s looking around the chair that has his robe, you don’t see anything. He might be missing something but you’re not sure what.

“Thanks. I’m glad you approve of my underwear choices. Could you delete that photo of me? It’s not great.” He frowns and makes a counter offer, retrieving his robe, he takes you into another living room. The size of this house is impressive and feeling the shag carpet on your feet makes you realize that you don’t have your shoes on. Why didn’t you realize you were barefoot? This entire night is far out - not unlike a Twilight Zone episode.

“I will if you sit with me a bit, miss sexy alien, I’m Dieter.” Holding out his hands like he is presenting a prize, it’s really just the couch, but it does look comfy and is when you plop down. The man’s already seen your panties so a pair of thick thighs like yours aren’t going to make a difference when the hem of your dress rises. You don’t mind him sitting so close to you, despite him not being in any sort of sci-fi or neon clothes. You find him handsome, a fluffy mop of mocha hair, scruff on his chin and cheeks, a permanent grin to his face along with broad shoulders underneath his shirt.

“I’m sitting with you so you’ll delete now, right?” You didn’t ask and you should have before patting his soft hair. Though, you find the low growl he releases is enticing, he hasn’t taken his phone back out. Gripping his hair, your other hand presses on his chest as you sit up on your knees on the couch next to him and look down. “Right Dieter?” You feel like slapping those sunglasses off his face, but they’ve slid down his nose. It looks like he wants more, but more what? Well this is also weird, but you’re also at an alien party plus you haven’t told him your name. “Do you believe in aliens?” He nods.

“Well you are right in front of me, so yeah. Am I gonna see stars? You’re not going to pop little green or gray dudes from somewhere are you?” Dieter has not only deleted the photo but removed his glasses, tossed them on the coffee table and is running his hands down your arms. A wider grin creeps across your face, rolling with this appears to be a very good idea.

“No little men from anywhere Dieter. I think we should get out of here and go see some stars together. You might get a better picture of me then.” Moving your hands and placing them on his shoulders, you kiss his forehead and stand up, still leaning over him. “Come to think of it, I don’t know where my shoes are.” Straightening your back, you put your hands on your hips as you laugh, you are going to need something on your feet to leave. Dieter shrugs and slips an arm around your waist, his lips grazing your shoulder for a moment.

“Neither do I. Only found my robe earlier. I think we’ll happen upon some shoes on the way to the stars Moon Pie.” Side by side, you walk with Dieter outside, barefoot as he whips out his phone again. He sends a few texts then puts it away.

“That’s curious. You didn’t want me to tell you my name? Just going with the nickname?”

“For now, but we’ve got the entire night.” The merits of the monikers ‘moon pie’ vs ‘miss sexy alien’ are debated while enjoying the chilly night air. The laughs shared over if aliens have tentacles with suckers or are just covered in a sort of slime is cut short by an SUV that pulls up. “We’ll get some shoes first and then cruise around.”

“As long as you don’t pop out any tentacles with slime on them.”

“I make no promises on that.” Bravo assists you into the SUV and follows in behind you, running his fingers along the rolls on your sides to tickle you as he makes a fish face while creating sucking noises. “It’s a mystery in these pants.” The snort you make is hidden beneath the base of the music that comes on when the driver turns on the radio.

Later with the windows down, both of you are singing along loudly while he lights up a sample and takes a puff, offering you a hit which you accept, blowing the smoke out of the window. Outlandish and not in character at all but with Dieter makes it oddly serene.

Trash Panda Pals 🦝: @katw474 @readingiskeepingmegoing @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @megamindsecretlair @pamasaur

@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @sp00kymulderr @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @titlee78 @tinytinymenace

@wannab-urs @magpiepills @soft-girl-musings @morallyinept @rhoorl

@survivingandenduring @missladym1981 @yorksgirl @gwendibleywrites @soft-persephone

@yourcoolauntie @schnarfer @tired-tyrant @saturn-rings-writes

[crowandmousewritingco]

We Liked Your Vibe

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader x Din Djarin

Words: 3.4 k

Rating: M (it's mostly smut folks)

Summary: Din promised Dieter to a threesome, and you have caught their attention.

Author: Mod Mouse (I know I'm not dead)

Note: Happy Holidays everyone! This is my gift to @guelyury for the secret santa exchange set up by @dieterbravobrainrotclub! Thank you @sp00kymulderrI for setting this up! I hope you enjoy your gift.

On another note, I hope to start getting back in the grove of writing. With the semester wrapped up and my life in general calming down, I hope to start posting fics again. I don't think it will be as often as I was (I can't believe I somehow put two fics a week out lol) But I'll figure out something that works. Anyways onto the smut!

“Oh what about that one?” Dieter asked excitedly, nodding in the direction of a goth looking person strolling up to the bar. 

Din glanced up from his whiskey, the melting ice giving a small tink against the glass. His gaze took in the figure, but he shook his head. “Not that one. Came in with a partner.” 

Dieter signed dramatically and slumped over the bar counter. Din slid his drink away to keep him from knocking it over. This wasn’t the first time tonight. “Diiiiiiiiin” Dieter whined. “That’s the third one you’ve said no to tonight.” 

“Yes but all you’ve shown me are couples. I said they had to be single,” Din replied raising his highball glass to his lips. 

Dieter stuck his tongue out at him before turning his head to survey the room. His dark eyes roamed the space once again. So many people with others. ‘Was no one single in the tristate area anymore?’ The thought crossed his mind and he sighed. Maybe it was just going to be him and Din tonight. 

That was until you saddled up to the bar, seemingly with the weight on the world on your shoulders. Dieter’s head poked up as you ordered a shot of tequila. You sprinkled some salt on the crook of your thumb as the bartender set the glass in front of you. Quickly you lapped the salt up with one hand and down the shot in the other, the sting of the alcohol barely affecting you. 

Without looking away, Dieter tugged on Din’s sleeve. “What about that one?” 

Din sighed, only getting slightly fed up with his husband. But when his eyes took you in, something stirred in him. You were very attractive to say the least despite not trying too hard. The favorite shirt that you choose, more for comfort than for attraction, stuck to you in all the right places leaving Din with a nice outline to admire. 

Din hummed which was the most approval he had given all night. Dieter smiled a big goofy grin and practically jumped from the barstool. Though he quickly straightened his outfit to make himself just a tad bit more presentable. Din followed soon and Dieter quickly grabbed his hand dragging the older man over. 

You hadn’t noticed them approach, your mind wiring a thousand thoughts a second. It was only when you heard someone say “Ya know we saw you from across the bar and we like your vibe.” You glanced up and blushed as you took in the odd couple. One man dressed in what you would call disaster chic and the other in a very monochromatic but well put together fit. 

You smirked. “You know this is a new one for me.” 

The messy haired one tilted his head. “Oh and how's that?” 

“Well you aren’t a middle aged straight couple who’s only way to save their marriage is to have a threesome,” You quipped. 

That got a laugh from the shorter man. “We’re about as opposite as that.” 

You raked your eyes over both of them smiling. “You can definitely say that.” 

“Oh where are my manners? Let me introduce ourselves. I’m Dieter and this is my tall, dark and very handsome husband Din.” 

Din held his hand to you and you graciously took it. The size difference from his hands against yours sent heat fluttering to your stomach. “It’s a pleasure to me you,” Din said, taking interest in your reaction. 

“Uh yes um ditto,” You stuttered, still taken aback. “Too bad I’m not dressed up.” You mumbled to yourself. 

Dieter chuckled. “It seems our friend here sees something she likes.” 

“Hmmm? Oh um yes” You blushed quickly taking your hand back. 

“So how about it? Want to see where else there's a size difference?” Dieter asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Your eyes darted back and forth between the pair, but you shrugged your shoulders. “I actually would love that.” 

Dieter’s eyes widened and he clapped his eyes excitedly. “Perfect.” He dramatically pointed to the exit. “Let us make haste and love!” He hurried towards the exit. 

You couldn’t help, but giggle at the man’s antics. You hopped off the stool throwing a few ones onto the counter. “Is he always like this?” You asked Din who offered his arm to you which you gladly accepted. 

“Always.” Din replied, and you followed the chaotic Dieter out the door. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dieter talked the whole way home to their apartment. It wasn’t so bad. You sat in the back with him as Din drove, and Dieter basically went over all of the kinks he had and what they both were comfortable with. It wasn’t what you were expecting considering your past experiences, but you were thankful for it nonetheless. You laid out what you did and didn’t like to do which Dieter was very receptive too. After your check in, it wasn’t long until you were making out with Dieter, his hands roaming all of you and trying to pull you into his lap. You giggle as you carefully straddled his waist, bracing yourself on the door frame. 

A low purr emanated from Dieter as he nuzzled his face into your clothed breasts. You couldn’t help but giggled as he motorboated against the fabric. With your free hand, you tangled your fingers into his curly hair, giving his scalp a gentle scratch. Dieter squeezed your hips making you squeak from the surprise. He smirked and snaked his hands up your stomach, sighing at your soft skin. You watched as he pushed up your shirt, licking his lips at the sight of your bare tits staring him right in his face. 

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “I see you weren’t interested in the support tonight.” 

You chuckled and kissed his forehead. “Nah, the girls needed to be free tonight.” 

With both of his hands, Dieter gently grasped your breasts in his hands rolling his thumb gently over your peaking nipples. You gasped, pushing your chest forward needing more stimulation from his fingers. Dipping his head, Dieter lapped at your nipples, the chill from his drink still evident on his tongue. You shivered as he lapped at your peaks, loving the contrasting warm and cold feelings. Dieter chuckled, pausing his motions and nuzzling his cheek into your chest. Playfully he bounced your tits saying, “Well I can be their support.” 

You giggled at his playfulness. “Unfortunately I can’t have you holding them 24/7.” 

Dieter pouted. “But I wanna.” 

You smooth his curls away from his forehead. “I’ll see what I can figure out.” 

That returned Dieter’s smile. With one hand still on your breasts, he sneaked his other down your stomach once more sliding them into your pants. You gasped softly as his fingers toyed with the lacey straps. Dieter smirked. “And you said you weren’t dressed up.” 

You blushed. “I wouldn’t consider underwear as dressing up.” 

“On the contrary, sweetheart. I am always an advocate of showing off the fanciest of underwear.” He purred his fingers rubbed against your clothed clit. Slow delicate circles send a pulses of pleasure through your body. Soft pants escaped your lips and you pressed your head into his shoulder. 

Dieter chuckled as he continued his motions, dragging his fingers all around your sensitive bits. His dark eyes caught Din’s in the rearview mirror and he smirked. “My love I believe your eyes stay on the road.” 

All Din gave as a response was a grunt, but Dieter could tell how worked up Din was. Dieter chuckled to himself as they pulled into their long driveway, the car gliding over the smooth concrete. Din turned the car off, quickly unbuttoning his seatbelt and opening the driver side door. It only took a second for him to open the backseat and carefully pull you off of Dieters lap holding you in his arms. 

You bit your lip as Din nuzzled his nose into your neck, his noticeable erection pressing into your stomach. “Oh and what was that about not paying attention?” Dieter teased, closing the car doors behind you. Din growled into your lips and Dieter rolled his eyes. “I’ll get the door” 

Din followed Dieter up the driveway, the footsteps of Dieter’s crocs guiding him into the house. You weren’t paying attention. All of your focus was the taste of whiskey against Din’s soft lips. Quick pants escaped your lips as the warm air of the house hit your skin. Din bit your lips sliding his tongue into your mouth. Gasping your fingers tangled in his hair giving them a firm tug. Din moaned, his cock twitching inside his pants. You chuckled and nuzzled your nose into his stubbled cheek. 

“Oh that’s such a nice sound.” Din blushed, dropping his gaze. You kissed his cheek leaning in close before saying, “I like hearing you moan.” That heard another twitch in his pants as he carried you into the bedroom. 

With your attention focused on other things, you could finally take in the space where Din had carried you. A giant bed lay against the wall with the soft silken covers adorning the top. Memorabilia from Dieter’s collection lined the wall while Din’s areas stayed relatively minimalist. You wondered how such an odd couple ended up together. 

But quickly your mind returned to the task at hand. As gently as handling an animal, Din set you in the middle of the bed. It only took a moment for him to crawl over you, encompassing you with his wide body. You bit your lips as your hands slid up his button shirt, feeling his muscles tensing under your touch. 

“Mmmmm what a lovely sight you two are,” Dieter commented as he sauntered to the edge of the bed. He made himself at home by the pillows as he watched the show. 

You blushed under the attention of the actor, but continued your focus on Din. Your fingers danced over the buttons, slowly opening them to reveal the skin underneath. The sight was utterly delicious and all you wanted to do was lick the saltiness as you made your way down. 

With a slow pull of your hands, you touched every inch of Din’s torso earning gasps from the older man. By the time you reached the tops of his jeans, he was panting, his full erection pressing against the material. Slowly you caressed his cock, feeling the magnitude against your hand. “Shit you are big.” You said, licking your lips. 

Just like his shirt, you undo the button, shifting the material down freeing his cock. It stood at attention with beads of precum already pooling on the head. With a finger, you traced the prominent vein up the shaft to the head where you gathered the precum against your finger. Curiously you brought it up to your lips, not breaking eye contact with Din as the saltiness coated itself over your tongue.

 You moaned at the taste and you could hear Dieter chuckling beside you. “He tastes better than any cocktail.” 

Humming in agreement you shifted yourself bringing your head closer to Din’s. But as you go to take his cock into his mouth, Din stops you with a gentle push on your shoulder. You look up, worried you did something wrong. 

“I want to treat you since you were so kind to agree to this,” Din voiced, a soft pink blush on his cheeks. 

You couldn’t help but blush in return. With these sorts of nights, you were lucky if the man ever went near your vagina with anything other than his cock. Din was such a considerate person that it was a shame this was only for one night. You nodded, returning back to your original position. With dexterous fingers Din pulled your pants along with the underwear off in one fluid motion. You shivered as the cool air hit your legs. Din stared at you with his dark brown eyes as he trailed slow kisses from your calf to your thighs until you could feel his breath against your wet lips. 

“I’m gonna devour you, little flower,” Din purred. 

Dieter rolled his eyes. “We all love your chivalrousness babe, but someone is also getting lonely. And I mean, she did want to blow someone.” Dieter commented and you couldn’t help but smirk. 

With a playful roll of your head, you opened your mouth ready for Dieter’s cock. Dieter smiled pulling down the waist of his well loved yet fashionable sweatpants, his own erection popping out. You lifted your hand giving Dieter a few pumps before kissing the head. His own salty taste mixed with Din’s was like a cocktail of lust in your mouth. 

That was when Din took the opportunity to take a long lick up your lips ending on a flick of his tongue on your clit. You gasped from the sudden pleasure, making you open your mouth. Dieter took the chance and slid the full length of his cock into your mouth. You gagged a little though taking no time to adjust to his size. 

Dieter leaned back his head against the headboard. “S-Shit we should have found you faster.” He slowly thrusted into your mouth, your tongue swirling around and up the shaft. “D-Din we gotta keep her.” 

Din hummed in agreement as he lapped at your clit. Sparks of pleasure tingled in your stomach, making you moan against Dieter’s cock. The full balls slapped against your throat as Dieter’s thrusts started becoming faster. Dieter cursed with each movement enjoying himself immensely. His gaze wandered down to watch Din as he continued to pleasure you like you were his last meal.

“Shit babe, leave some of that for me. She’s gonna need it when I cum inside her.” You moaned at the thought of his cock spilling his seed inside you. Dieter smirked his gaze meeting your eyes. “Is that something you want, doll?” He asked, his thumb tracing your cheek. You nodded the best you could, and Dieter slowly pulled out of your mouth, a trail of saliva connecting you two. 

“You heard the cutie. I think it’s time for the ol’ Johnson to shine,” Dieter exclaimed excitedly as Din shifted away from you. It was your time to roll your eyes at the other man’s antics. Dieter maneuvered around getting on his hands and knees in front of you. 

“You’re ridiculous,” You teased hands cupping Dieter’s cheeks and quickling kissing his lips. 

“Uh ya ridiculously horny,” He replied with a cheeky smirk. 

You threw your head back against the pillows, a loud laugh filling the room. “God you’re funny.” 

Dieter glanced over his shoulder at Din who had kneeled behind him. “See, someone thinks I’m funny.” 

“Just give it a few years,” Din teased back as he gently pulled a very fancy buttplug out of his husband. Dieter moaned at the lack of friction and you preoccupied him with your lips. He pushed for dominance against you, but you pushed back with just the same intensity. 

Din set the butt plug aside and squirted a dollop of lube onto his palm. Carefully he applied the generous amount onto his cock and Dieter’s hole. A soft gasp escaped Dieter’s lips as he shuttered against the chilly material. 

With a quick peck of the cheek, you said “Don’t worry. You’ll be warmed up in no time.” Dieter groaned at your words, his own cock twitching at the idea of being deep inside you. With a slow push, Din entered him a deep grumble vibrating his throat as he felt Dieter pulse around him. Dieter moaned, resting his head on your shoulder as he adjusted to his size. 

Gently you twirled his curls around your fingers, your nails massaging his scalp. It only took him a moment for him to be ready. Dieter gently pumped his own cock adjusting his hips to meet yours. He guided his cock up and down your slit, your arousal coating the head. You both moaned at the feeling. 

But Dieter grew impatient. With his hand he guided his cock to your hole, gathering up the wetness glistening between your legs. With an eager but still gentle push, he buried himself fully inside of you. The noise that escaped his lips was down right sinful as his legs shook from so much pleasure. Small pants flowed from your lips as you felt Dieter filling you to the brim with his cock. It twitched inside of you and you squeezed around it in response. 

“Fuck,” He whimpered nuzzling his nose into your neck, his warm breath ebbing against your skin.

Din took this as a sign to begin thrusting. It was slow at first, gauging how you were handling everything. In and out Dieter’s cock rubbed against the sensitive areas inside you, and you moaned. Fingers pulled at Dieter’s curls earning a new set of moans to the symphony of sex. 

Din grunted as he pulled his cock almost out of Dieter before plunging it back inside of him, sending Dieter deeper inside of you. The trio moaned as everyone was feeling on cloud nine. Din sped of up thrusts, the need for gentleness over. He draped his torso over Dieter’s back, leaning in to bite on the actor’s shoulder. 

Dieter twitched inside of you, and you smirked. “S-Shit I should bite you more,” 

Dieter moaned as Din’s thrusts became more erratic. It was clear that Din was close to cuming and by the way Dieter felt inside of you, he was close too. Your hand slid down your torso and your fingers began circling your clit, speeding up your motions as you felt the heat in your stomach began to grow and grow. 

With each circle you squeezed around Dieter, earning a moan each time. Your fingers pressed on a particularly sensitive bit and you moaned, sending your legs shaking. Dieter couldn’t hold on much longer. With a few more thrusts from Din, Dieter leaned his head back and came hard inside you. You could feel each bit of cum drenching your walls. 

You played with your clit as fast as you could, using your entire hand to gain the pleasure you need. Soon you joined Dieter in the realm of orgasm and came with the tensing of your legs. As you came down from your high, a series of grunts filled the room as Din filled Dieter with his own high. 

All three of you were left panting against the bed. Din was the first to pull out, and with a tilt of your head you could see the cum cascading down Dieter’s leg. Din gave Dieter’s ass a few taps before slowly getting off the bed to grab a towel from the bathroom. 

Almost reluctantly Dieter pulled out of you, his gaze drifting down to see his own seed dripping from you. “Fuck that’s such a pretty sight, doll.” Dieter moaned as he leaned down. You followed his gaze with curiosity. Dieter glanced up. “What? Think I would miss an opportunity to taste the both of us? Not a chance.” With a quick swipe of his tongue, he gathered you and his own arousal on his tongue savoring the saltiness. You gasped at the overstimulation and latched onto his curls for grounding. This only spurred him on, and soon he was devouring like he hadn’t eaten in days. Another orgasm ripped through you, surprising you with how quickly he made you cum. That made Dieter’s ego skyrocket, and he chuckled as he detached himself from you. 

“S-Shit…how?” You asked, panting, mind fuzzy from the pleasure. 

“I can’t give away all of my secrets,” Dieter winked before he settled beside you. His arms pulled you in for cuddles which you gladly appreciated. The warmth from his chest filled you with ease as you wound down from the activities. 

Din reappeared with the washcloth, and with effortless gentleness he cleaned the both of you. He tossed the material aside, dealing with it at a later time, before settling on the other side of you. You practically purred at the feeling of the two men sandwhiching you. 

Everything was quiet as you laid there. Din gently drew imaginary shapes on your skin, and Dieter twirled your hair in his fingers. “C-Can we do this again?” You asked hesitantly not wanting to break the magic of tonight. 

Dieter chuckled against your hair. “I was hoping you would ask that.” You smiled in return happy that your crappy night had turned into something you had a feeling would last a long time.

Credit: @inklore

All Works Taglist:

@for-a-longlongtime @romanarose

Pedro Characters Taglist:

@littlemisspascal @burntheedges

@carusolikey @thebeldroramscal

@morallyinept @lady-bess

@pedrostories @rivnedell

@pascalsanctuary @readingiskeepingmegoing

@jessthebaker

[sp00kymulderr]

(18+ Dieter x reader thoughts I need to get out rn)

Thinking about those moments when Dieter takes the lead. When he needs to be in control. Needs to have some semblance of command in a life where others are always telling him what to do, where to go, who to be.

His spirit won’t be quashed when he has you - so perfect, so beautiful, so easy for him. A few well placed touches, teasing kisses where he knows you’re most sensitive, and you’re putty in his hands. Begging him so sweetly, no better music to his ears than the sound of you achingly desperate for him.

“Show me… show me you want me” he whispers, hot breath against the shell of your ear as he gets you out of your clothes. He wants to see it. He needs to see it. The way he makes you feel, your thrumming desire that makes it way down your body in a stream of heat and tension. He grips you tightly when you show him. Cocky chuckle in your ear and he looks down your body, between your legs.

“You need it, baby?” He teases, playfully nipping at your pouty lips. Yeah, you need it. You whine and writhe and he’ll pin you down and tease you for longer just because he can. Just to feel the power of having you needy and denied, shaking breath and little sobs of desire that almost make him give in.

Almost.

He’s rarely a man of patience, but with you under him like this he’ll make it last as long as he wants. He’ll make you beg over and over for him.

[sunshinehaze1]

About Last Night…

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Summary: You met The Dieter Bravo last night, but does he remember meeting you?

Warnings: 18+, MDNI. smut, handjob, f!oral, unprotected PiV, mentions of drug use, reader has hair long enough to tug, smoking

a/n: This was written for @jolapeno Dear-uary Challenge and I received this prompt. Thank you to @peepawispunk & @80ssong for their beta reads! 😘 I hope you enjoy!

word count: 1,744

ao3 | ml

Dieter groans, turns onto his side, and opens his eyelids to find two ibuprofen tablets and a glass of water on his bedside table. He's unsure how he even managed to get to his bed. He can't remember much of last night; as usual, he drank too much, smoked too much, and snorted too much. He knows he needs to get his partying under control; he's not keen on another stint in rehab or being the subject of more tabloid fodder. His team would be grateful, too. But he enjoys it too much. He loves hosting parties at his house and having access to beautiful men and women who want to shower him with adoration and attention. Aspiring actors, writers, and producers all want a piece of him. It's not easy to give those perks up—one of the benefits of being an actor in high demand.

The tablets are sitting atop a slip of paper. He picks them up and throws them back, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, emptying the glass of water in a couple of gulps. He picks up the slip of paper, his thick thumb and index finger grip the note, and he admires the neat handwriting as he reads:

image text: D- you may not remember much, so let me refresh your memory. This may be where I left you, but we’ll start where we first met. Even with the stroke of a hand and gripping conversation, this place is the pits.

Dieter, confused, rereads the note. Who did he meet last night that would have left this note? As usual, his house was overflowing with people. Most were friends or people he'd worked with in the industry; surely, it wasn't one of them. His friends tend to bring along their friends, and those friends bring their friends, and soon, his Hollywood Hills home is overrun with strangers.

He pulls on his green robe and exits the bedroom, traipsing over the remnants of the night before. Dodging obstacles of empty glasses, discarded clothing, ashtrays filled with cigarette butts and roaches, coffee tables dusted in white powder, and rolled up hundred dollar bills. A record spins around the player, scratching and skipping with each rotation. People in various states of undress are scattered across the floor and couches.

He finally reaches the conversation pit—avocado green cushions accented with cream and mustard yellow pillows. He descends the carpeted stairs, still unsure what kind of wild goose chase he's being led on. As he straightens the pillows, a slip of paper dances through the air when he moves them around. Dieter bends down to pick it up after it floats to the ground. Suddenly, a flash of recollection races across his mind.

A vision of you and him, bodies close together, barely any space between you two. Your arm draped over his shoulders, and your hand in his lap gripped tightly around his cock. Your hands make languid strokes along his length as you purr into his ear, teasing him. He's impossibly hard, and his eyes scan the party to see if anyone has noticed his precarious situation. A rush of heat skates up his chest to his neck as the risk of getting caught arouses him. You coo, "Baby, you're so hard, I can barely wrap my hand around you."

A moan falls out of Dieter's mouth, his gaze occupied by your grasp on his length. He watches as you continue your lazy strokes, the waistband of his pants resting just below his balls. Your movements are hidden by his fluffy teddy bear coat that he has positioned over his lap but not shielded from his view. He's mesmerized by the lacquer on your nails and the reflection of light that bounces off them with each pass along his cock. He feels arousal roil in his belly, and his balls begin to tighten.

Breathily, he spits out, "I'm going to cum."

Squeezing him tighter before you quickly release him, "Not yet, you aren't." You lean in and kiss him on the cheek, "I need a smoke." you giggle as you tuck his still painfully hard dick back into his pants and pull away.

He hears that sweet sound in his mind, and his cock twitches at the memory. Eager to find out what's next on this salacious tour, he reads the note:

image text: orange and bright, this is the perfect place to get a light.

Dieter was drawn to this home because of the mid-century modern architecture, and he leaned into the aesthetic. Much of the decor is original to the house, including the burnt orange malm fireplace on his back patio.

He heads outside. The sun is now high in the sky, having slept the morning away. Dieter squints to avoid the torture of the sun's rays on his brutal hangover. As he approaches the seating area around the fireplace, he spots a slip of notebook paper under an ashtray littered with discarded butts and blunts on the table.

It prompts his memory. After you left him with blue balls in the conversation pit, you dragged him outside for a smoke. He walked closely behind you with his hands on your hips to conceal his erection as you navigated through the party crowd. His dick was aching, desperate for release. But his curiosity to know more about you was enough of a distraction for now.

He observes you taking a drag from the cigarette between your soft lips. "How long have you lived here?" you inquire as you purse your lips to exhale the smoke up and to the side, away from his face.

"Um, a few years now. I bought it after Cliffs Beasts 6." His eyes rake up and down your body, taking in your curves and the disarming smile that spreads across your face.

"I liked that movie."

Dieter scoffs, unbelieving someone like you would enjoy the movie, let alone see it. It was a flop, an example of a studio trying to milk everything out of a franchise at any expense. There is no way you actually liked the movie.

"No, really, I did." There's that smile again; he knew then that he was done for, his body warmed by the sincerity in your eyes.

Chuckling to himself at the memory, he looks down at the slip of paper, which reads:

image text: I cried out, with your tongue inside, while the Kid sang about Nikki.

Dieter enters his music room, eyeing the wall of his record collection. His fingers dance along the spines of the album covers until he finds Purple Rain. Carefully, he pulls the record out of its sleeve and watches as another slip of paper falls to the ground. He replaces the spinning record and gently places the needle onto the vinyl, A-side up.

The castle started spinning

Or maybe it was my brain

I can't tell you what she did to me

But my body will never be the same

The images of last night in this room flood his mind. You, on your back, laid across the faux fur rug. It was as vivid as if you were there with him right now. Your shapely legs stretched out in front of you, with your perfect pussy glistening in the dim lamplight. His body prone with his face between your thighs, inhaling your scent. He laps into your sweet heat, his tongue teasing through your folds and flicking over your clit. His forearms wrapped around your thighs to hold you in place when you begin to writhe, pushing your core into his face, chasing your orgasm.

Oh, her lovin' will kick your behind

Oh, she'll show you no mercy

But she'll sure enough, sure enough

Show you how to grind

He laps at your release while you cry out his name, unable to control the rutting of his hips against the rug, searching for relief from his aching, throbbing cock. He's been on edge for the last couple of hours, patiently waiting for his release.

At the memory, he realizes he can still taste you on his lips. It's faint, but it's enough to make his cock move. Having sobered up a bit more, he's intrigued to find out where he'll be led next and picks up the piece of paper:

image text: you’ll find this journey come to a close in the place where you like to powder your nose…

Dieter walks down the hall to his bathroom. Vintage aqua blue tiles cover the floor, shower, and halfway up the wall, trimmed in navy blue tiles. The mirror above the matching pedestal sink is covered in writing—a phone number in red lipstick with handwriting that matches the notes—your phone number. Thanks to you and this little scavenger hunt you sent him on, he's slowly pieced together his night with you. He may not remember it all, but his senses help, recalling the feel of your soft, silken skin, your floral perfume, and the way you taste. And he's transported back.

He pictures you bent over the sink as he slides down your panties. Tugging your hair as he slides his cock inside you from behind. Remembering the gasps and moans, you couldn't help but release as he thrust into your warm, wet heat. Rubbing your swollen clit as you approach your second climax, nibbling on your ear, which finally sends you over the edge. Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing his cock so tight he had to pull out quickly to paint his spend across your bare ass. His sweaty brow meets yours, the both of you gasping to catch your breath as he leaves a chaste kiss on the tip of your nose.

His dick was now half hard at the memory.

He pulls his phone out of his robe pocket and opens the camera app. He points it toward the mirror as he takes in his disheveled state: hair tousled and astray, light brown curls pointing in every direction. He notices a stain down the front of his grey tunic and his striped pants slung low on his hips. He does little to improve his appearance before he snaps a picture, tongue wagging, eyes wide, making sure his semi-hard cock is captured in the frame.

He types the number you left on the mirror and attaches the photo.

"I found you."

A couple of minutes later, his phone pings, "It's about damn time; I've been waiting all morning for you. 😉"

Thank you so much for reading! I’d love to know what you think. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏼

tagging a few folks who may be interested in reading: @baronessvonglitter @almostempty @ak-vintage @kilamonster (lemme know if you prefer I not clog your notifs)

[burntheedges]

Bits and Baubles 🎄

Dieter Bravo x gn!reader | 2.8k | masterlist | ao3

summary: it was towards the end of the Christmas market season, and at first it seemed to be a market day like any other. That is, until the man in the green robe whirled into your life.

a/n: happy @dieterbravobrainrotclub Secret Santa, @whocaresstillthelouvre! I loved learning about your Christmas decor. I hope you enjoy learning about Dieter's! 😂 thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta and helping me figure out this idea!!

tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, suggestive and/or explicit Christmas ornaments, dildos, meet cute

...

You were working your stall, talking to a customer, when you caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. Dark hair and a lurid green robe flashed by, but he was gone before you finished packing up the ornament. By the time you looked around, he’d disappeared into the market.

A few minutes later you were putting out more stock when you saw him again. This time he was dashing through an open area between rows on your left. You got a better look, but it only inspired more questions than answers – he was wearing plaid pajama bottoms, an old t-shirt, that lurid green robe, all topped with messy curls and sunglasses. 

Whoever he was, he seemed to be in quite a hurry. He dashed from stall to stall, sometimes chatting briefly, sometimes running off before the vendor could even get a word in. 

You had to look away when another small group approached your stall, and you put the strange man out of your mind.

The market was going well for you. Like most years, it was popular and crowded, filled with people doing some last minute holiday shopping. The stalls had a wide variety of holiday decor, gifts, crafts, and more.

Your ornament stall – Bits and Baubles – usually made people do a double take. You had a wide selection of ornaments, from the typical shiny balls to funny jokes to a special annual one you made each year (and you loved that people had started collecting them). They were all handmade by you over the course of the year, including the non-holiday decor you didn’t usually bring to markets like this one.

The biggest draw, though, and the thing that made people look twice, was the adult selection at one end of your stall. These were also handmade, and usually drew a wide variety of reactions – laughs, raised eyebrows, offended huffs. But they were also your most popular items, especially the wooden vibrators (painted in shiny colors) and “double baubles.” You loved when someone let out a genuine laugh at the sight because they usually bought at least one.

The small group moved away (after a nice assortment of purchases) and you looked up to find the man in the green robe staring at your stall. He was standing about 15 feet away and seemed to be scanning your offerings from one end of the table to the other.

When his gaze reached the adult section, he froze. You wished you could see his eyes, but they were still hidden behind his sunglasses.

His jaw slowly dropped, gaze locked on your small display of vibrator ornaments. He started to move towards you and you realized he was walking straight towards the display.

When he reached you, he looked from the ornaments to you, and then back to the ornaments. He reached out with one gentle hand and brushed his fingers over the golden dildo ornament. A huge grin slowly took over his face.

“These are amazing,” he breathed, looking from the ornament to your face. “Did you make these?”

You grinned back at him. “I did!” You waved your hand around your stall. “I made all of these.”

His mouth made a little ‘o’ shape as he looked in surprise around your stall. “Shit,” he murmured, taking it all in. “That’s fucking amazing.” He turned back to the adult section, and turned the vibrator ornament display. “Do you have more like these?”

You tilted your head, surprised. There were about 30 ornaments on the display, and more of different kinds on the three next to it. “More than these?”

He nodded. “I need two hundred and fifty ornaments. And these are so perfect, I mean, I never expected to find anything like this!” He smiled again.

Your jaw dropped. “Two hundred and fifty?”

“Yep,” he agreed absently. He started poking through the neighboring displays, face full of delight. “So I’ll definitely take all of these and more.”

“Wait,” you said, head spinning. “All of these? What… what for?” You couldn’t believe it. That was… more than you expected to sell at the market, for sure.

He blinked, and seemed to realize he hadn’t explained well. “Oh! I’m having a party. A holiday party! I used to have them every year, but it’s been, um.” He grimaced. “Well anyway, it’s the first one in a while, and I need party favors. The party is famous for the party favors, or at least it was, before. We were decorating and getting set up and then oh, Dieter, where are the favors? And suddenly I realize I don’t have any. I forgot! Can you believe it?” He sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. “We’ve got a completely empty tree that is supposed to be covered in party favors. So I ran over here, hoping to find something. For tonight.” He gestured at the market around you, and you nodded, a bit stunned. “I think I looked at every stall in here. And then I saw you… your booth.” He grinned. “And these,” he pointed at the vibrators, and nudged a hot pink wand with his finger, “are perfect.”

You opened your mouth and closed it again. You still couldn’t believe he wanted to buy basically your entire stock. “Ok. Well, I’ve got about eighty out on the table, and I probably have enough to get to two-fifty. But they’re not here, I didn’t bring my entire stock.”

His brow furrowed. “Oh, is that alright? I really will buy them all.”

You nodded. It was late enough in the holiday season that you knew most of your regulars had already gotten what they wanted, anyway. “Of course. Let me pull up my inventory and I’ll get you a price.”

He waved his hand dismissively, and when he did his green robe fluttered around him. “Whatever number you find, double it. Wait, could you possibly deliver these? Tonight?”

Tonight? You considered. The market would be over in a couple of hours, and then you were planning to head home and get ready for a night out. Not one you were particularly looking forward to, but you’d bought the ticket ages ago to give yourself something to do the Saturday before Christmas. “Deliver where?”

He gave his address, and you realized he must have a massive house, judging by the neighborhood. But it wasn’t too far out of your way, so you nodded. “I can do that. What time is the party?”

His shoulders sagged in relief as he said, “8. So maybe you could come before, then, by 7?”

“Sure.” That should work for you. “Let me get you a price, and we can do half now, half tonight.”

He waved his arm again. “I’ll pay it all now. And go ahead and triple it, for the delivery.”

You hesitated with your hand on your computer. “Triple?”

He nodded, smiling. “And wait, can you box these three separately?” He pointed at the shiny gold dildo, the sparkly rainbow suggestive clam, and the bright purple double baubles. “I think I want these for myself. Oh, um, assuming there are enough, otherwise.”

You had already pulled up your inventory, so you nodded. “Of course. Here’s the price.” you angeled the screen towards him as you started to pack up his ornaments. 

By the time you looked up, he had added another zero to his payment. Your jaw dropped.

“You… you really don’t need to–”  you started, shocked. 

He just smiled at you. “Yes, I do.”

As you fought to keep your gaze from tracing his smile, you smiled back. “Alright, if you’re sure.”

He nodded again. “And please bring as many of your business cards as you can! Or something like it. I can’t wait to share these with everyone.” He grinned at your display. Suddenly he moved, so quickly it startled you as you were starting to box up all of your displays for him. He smacked his hand into his forehead. “I never introduced myself. What was I thinking? I’m Dieter.” He shoved his sunglasses into his hair and held out his hand to shake. You gripped it slowly, meeting his eyes for the first time and trying not to notice how cute he was. He held on with both hands as he shook it. “It’s so great to meet you, you have no idea! I have to go, though, before I get yelled at for taking too long.”

You smiled as you shook his hand and introduced yourself. “You too, Dieter. I’ll see you later.”

He turned to leave quickly after that, as much of a whirlwind on his way out of the market as he’d been while searching for favors.

…

At 7:00 pm sharp you pulled up to a large, gated house, a bit taken aback by its size. It was even bigger than you’d expected.

You were waved easily through the gate, and when you pulled up behind a catering van the front door flew open. Dieter stepped out, grinning, and you were suddenly glad your reaction to him was hidden by your tinted windows. 

Gone was the robe and pajama pants outfit from earlier. He was clearly dressed for the party in a black velvet suit and a deep green lace shirt that drew your eyes like a magnet. His hair was still messy, but it seemed purposeful this time. He’d been attractive, of course, earlier at the market, and now somehow he was cute and devastating. And he was smiling at you like you were the best thing he’d ever seen. 

“You made it!” He said, hopping down his front steps. You smiled at him as you stepped out of your car, nervously adjusting your outfit. You were dressed up, too, for the show later. It was one of your favorite outfits, one that made you feel hot and sexy and mysterious, and you felt your cheeks start to warm as he gave you a once over. When his eyes returned to yours, you were both smiling. “I’m so glad you’re here. But did you have plans? I’m sorry—“

You cut him off. “No, I was going to see a show downtown tonight, but it doesn’t start until later. And I’m not meeting anyone so there’s no rush.” You decidedly did not mention that you’d changed your outfit plan at the last minute. 

Dieter smiled again. “Ok, good. I mean, not that you’re going alone. Or maybe you prefer it that way! Just, I’m glad I’m not interrupting anything. Um,” he trailed off sheepishly.

You smiled again as you gestured towards the trunk of your car. “I’ve got everything ready for you. Should we take it in?”

He nodded, and soon you found yourself standing inside his foyer next to an absolutely massive tree. It was only decorated with lights. 

“This is the tree! I was hoping, that is… would you like to decorate it with me?” He looked at you hopefully. “I’ve been banished from the kitchen and told to take care of this, and I figure you’ll be amazing at it.”

You agreed, deciding not to examine your urge to stick around too closely. Dieter went and got you both a drink before you got started. 

It didn’t take long for you to realize that decorating a tree with Dieter was the most fun you’d had in a while. He giggled as he opened every single ornament, crowing over each one and praising your skill and ideas. By the time you’d gotten through the first box (of mostly dildos) your face felt hot and you could feel the hair on the back of your neck standing up from all the praise and close proximity. 

“Ok I think we spread those out pretty well,” you said, gesturing towards the dildo-covered tree. “Now we can spread out the double baubles, too, and then the others.” He nodded, giggling again, and you smiled back. 

“These are so ingenious,” he said, holding a double bauble and a shiny clam with a pearl in his hands. “Did you come up with the ideas yourself?”

You nodded, ducking your head a bit. “Some and some with friends. I have more ideas, too, that I’ll make someday.”

Dieter seemed to light up at the idea of more ornaments. “Will you tell me when you do? I want to buy them all!” He grinned as he hung a “jingle balls” ornament on the tree, a double bauble with bells attached. “I had no idea people even made ornaments like this.”

“I’m not the only one, for sure, but it’s definitely fun. They’re some of my best sellers.”

At that he seemed to wince, but he didn’t leave you to wonder why. “I didn’t buy them all, did I? Is that bad? Will people be mad?”

You smiled, a bit touched by his concern, and laid a hand on his forearm. The velvet of his coat was soft under your hand. “Well, first of all, you overpaid for them, so I can’t be mad at you. Second, I’ve still got a few more. And third, it’s so close to the holidays, most of my regulars have already gotten what they wanted. My shop isn't that big. There’s nothing to be worried about.” You winked at him and squeezed his arm, and watched with amusement as he flushed. “Besides, you already promised to tell everyone where they came from. What more could I ask?”

He grinned. “Of course! Everyone is going to love these, you’ll see.”

You kept chatting as you decorated the tree, learning that his party planner and best friend Leah had been the one to banish him from the kitchen (“she’s such a tyrant, I don’t know what I’d do without her”) and that it had been about five years since he last hosted his famous party (“my life was pretty different, then, so this is kind of a triumphant return and a new start”). He waved his arm towards the living room as he said that, and you glanced over and did a double take. 

There was an Oscar sitting on his mantle. 

As you put it together, you wanted to kick yourself for how long it had taken you to do so. He was Dieter Bravo — that Dieter Bravo! The famous one! You could only blame your absolute obliviousness on how ludicrous it would have seemed a day ago that Dieter Bravo would buy out your entire adult ornament stock. 

Your mouth kept moving without conscious input from your brain. “Oh, you’re Dieter Bravo,” you blurted, and then winced as he stiffened. “Sorry, I’m an idiot, I just didn’t realize. I promise not to be weird about it.”

He tilted his head, considering you, and then started to smile incredulously. “My name was on the order,” he pointed out with a laugh. 

You winced again. “I know. I think I was too distracted by you to think about it.”

Dieter seemed to think about that for a moment and then stepped a little bit closer to you. “Distracted? By me?”

You nodded, just then realizing what that sounded like. “You, um... pulled your sunglasses up. When you told me your name.”

He grinned. “And I only forgot to tell you my name because I was so distracted by you, the cute ornament seller who grinned so wickedly when you told me about the dildos you make by hand.” He reached down to grab your hand and lightly teased at your fingers with his own. 

You felt your face start to heat again. “Cute? Me?”

He nodded. “And then you showed up here in that,” he gestured at your outfit, “and I almost fell over in the driveway.”

You laced your fingers through his and squeezed. Your heart felt like it was going to beat right out of your chest. “You’re one to talk, Mr. Lace Shirt!”

Dieter laughed, unrepentant. “I was hoping you’d notice.” He squeezed your hand, looking suddenly shy. “I know you said you had plans, but do you want to stay for the party?” He looked at you with big, pleading eyes and you felt yourself start to melt. “I promise it’ll be fun. I’ll show you off, of course, but…” he trailed off and tugged you closer. “I think I’d like to keep getting to know you.”

You grinned. “I’d love to.” 

He lit up like the tree he was standing next to, and you felt warm all over at his obvious excitement. You quickly placed the last few ornaments before he dragged you down the hall to give you a tour. 

The party was, in fact, a great time. And so was the mistletoe you found yourself under with the host at the end of the night.

...

a/n: I hope you enjoyed it, Mallory!! 🧡🎄

[covetyou]

single rider

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo x gn!reader  rating: teen (18+ only blog!)  warnings: broken theme park rides, fluff, hand holding, scared!Dieter, Cliff Beasts slander, swearing, seriously so much hand holding though. word count: 2.5k  summary: Not a thing goes wrong when you visit a theme park for festive fun with friends. Not a single thing at all.

A/N: happy dieter bravo brainrot club secret santa-mas @burntheedges! I'm so sorry this is basically at the last possible minute (15 minutes late, actually). The spoon drawer is empty and I'm working with forks rn.

I took liberties with your "accidentally booked the same rental" and "randomly assigned tour buddies" prompts and mashed them up with the real life experience of getting stuck on Toy Story Mania for like 10 minutes in 2023 (let me tell you, that music does NOT stop). it makes sense, I promise.

 @dieterbravobrainrotclub

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The time mocks you, numbers glaring down bright in the darkness. Seventy-Five minutes. Over an hour of your time. In a queue.

Another day, it'd be funny. Another day, you'd have the time to spare, no friends waiting in the parking lot for you to ride the one thing they all refused to. You suppose that's what you get for coming here with a bunch of thrill seekers.

You didn't really understand their objection. The thing had thrills and excitement, just not the kind that would flip you upside down and launch you into the air at a million miles an hour. It wasn't old and decrepit like some other rides.

Okay, so it wasn't exactly new, either. Or good. You knew that.

But you liked it. You liked the jaunty music and the silly little shooting game - pelting eggs at anything and everything that popped up as you slowly trundled through scene after scene. It was charming. Nostalgic, somehow, despite only being something you ever experienced as an adult. It was exactly what you needed after an entire evening of listening to your nearest and dearest scream themselves hoarse on rollercoasters.

But seventy-five fucking minutes? Was it worth seventy-five minutes?

The people still joining the queue seem to think so. The bored looking attendant waving them through seems less thrilled, staring into the middle distance as they absentmindedly wave group after group into the line.

That was just the thing. Even on a regular day, the queue was something to behold. It was cheesy and tacky and glorious, everything you wanted just about every day of the year. But, every year, they did something special for the holidays. A festive overlay like you've never seen. Gaudy and horrendous in all the right ways, and part of you just needed to see it.

"Single-riders can queue over there."

It takes you a moment to realize the monotone drone of the ride attendant is directed at you, standing frowning up at the sign that now reads eighty minutes.

The attendant speaks again, waving one hand to guide yet more people into the rapidly growing queue, while thrusting a thumb over to another sign - arrow pointed away from the main queue - that says single rider.

"But does it -" you start, before that same monotonous drawl cuts you off.

"Still got the decorations."

Naturally, you don't even think before you're moving. Even when the single-rider line looks supiciously like an emergency exit.

It's not. It's everything you hoped. You track alongside the queues and groups, music blaring and people laughing and chattering over it all. Outdated animatronics from all over the park sit in here, draped in holiday outfits, santa hats flopping around on their stuttering heads.

And then, once you've breezed past all eighty minutes of queue in no time at all, you make it to the front of an empty line, feeling like you've cheated the system and screwed over all the people infinitely more patient than you.

"Six to a car! Split up your groups! Six to a car! Three each side!"

You know the drill, even if the other people do not. Groups of four trying to scramble to fit into sides with only three launchers and not nearly enough ass space. Others getting split awkwardly between multiple cars. All while you stand, and wait, for whatever space you might be slotted into.

It takes all of two minutes. You missed who loaded into the front side of your car - too busy grinning to yourself at a particularly shitty animatronic and the absolutely not PG way it's moving in it's old age - but you're being called over and loaded into the car and whisked away to the training room in no time, the little jerking goblin soon forgotten.

And fuck is it just as delightful as you'd hoped.

Baubles and ornaments replace the eggbasket - each one smashing against targets as they hit home, no bursting yolk in sight. The car spins and turns with each new room, and you're poised and ready to begin firing each time, jingling bells and twinkling lights guiding you through scene after scene.

Even if you waited eighty minutes, it would've been worth it, you think as the car flips again, sliding you to one side as you begin shooting again, the sounds of giggles and shouts from other cars drowned out by your own laughter.

The score on your screen rapidly increases. You miss the hot air balloon, but you knock back the snowman with an ornament straight to the head. The big 1000 pointer just escapes you, but you nail three 750s in quick succession. You don't hear the swearing from your car mate, back to back and shielded from each other as you both are.

You're so lost in it, racking up points and taking in the music and carnage in front of you, that you're still shooting when the lights dim and the swaying car grinds to a halt. The launcher in your hand becomes unresponsive, the music going around and around in a loop as other cars start to look around with the same question in their eyes as you.

What the fuck is going on?

"Sit tight, the ride will begin moving again shortly!"

You don't believe the automated voice coming through the loud speaker the first time, and you certainly don't believe it the fifth. After eight minutes, you're starting to understand just why the queue was so long in the first place.

Then, just as you tap out a frantic message to your waiting friends, your car starts to rock and shuffle, your unseen car-mate moving around behind you.

"Hello?" comes a man's voice, just about audible over the repeated cycle of music.

"Anyone there?" he asks, a knock to the back of his seat making your turn in yours.

"I'm here."

You expect to make small talk with the unseen stranger until the ride starts moving again. You expect to never see his face and just shout over the music, between the calls of the automated message, having a stilted conversation until you're both back to shooting again.

You don't expect the ride car to sway again, or to hear scrambling feet on plastic, and you certainly don't expect to first seen an arm, then a foot, then a scruffy head, clamber around the side of the car, feet not touching the ground as he switches sides to sit right next to you.

"Thank fuck," he says breathlessly when he plops himself next to you in the car, looking around with frantic, terrified eyes.

You gape at him. Usually you'd be scared of a strange man climbing into your ride car, but his own look of terror far eclipses yours and, beyond that, you're certain you know him from somewhere.

"Are you okay?" you ask tentatively when his eyes shoot from side to side at the start of another loop of that music, once jaunty and cheesy in a fun way, now infuriating and borderline creepy.

"No!" he says. "Have you seen this shit?"

He finally looks at you - you definitely know him from somewhere - and you're stunned. He's a mess of scruffy, curly hair and patchy beard. He might be tanned in other lighting, but right now he just looks a splotchy mess of technicolor wearing loungewear and, fuck, is he beautiful.

Another sudden burst of color - a light glitching and resetting, yet again - and he recoils in the seat next to you.

"Oh fuck no. This is some Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory shit," he shouts, gripping the bar in front of him with white knuckles. He's looking around frantically, as if terrorized by the idea of Santa on his sleigh, until a jaunty looking snowman pops up and has Dieter throwing himself back in his seat with a yelp.

"The one with Gene-"

"Yes the one with Gene Wilder, there is no other."

He's holding himself now. It's surprisingly endearing watching him restrain himself from gripping onto you, and instead clutching his hands tightly to his arms, while he shakes his head and mutters something about how he can't believe this.

"Scared?" you probe, and he shakes his head again.

"You cannot tell me this isn't nightmare fuel."

You shrug. "I like the ride."

"So do I, but this," he says, flapping around to the swirling lights, "is not what I signed up for. I queued an hour for this. I've had bad trips better than this. This would be better on a bad trip."

The announcement sounds again - shortly feeling like more and more of an infuriating lie each time you hear it - and the man takes a deep breath, slouching back into the seat, releasing his arms, and gripping the plastic edge of it.

You don't know what compells you. You never would do something like this usually - you are a strictly hands-off person where strangers or vague acquantances are concerned. Still, you reach for his hand where it sits near to you on the plastic bench seat, and grip it softly in your own.

"What - What're you doing?" he asks, letting his hand sit limp in yours.

You clear your throat and stare ahead at the repeating scene on the screen - hot air balloon, target, Santa's sleigh, snowman, fireworks, hot air balloon, target, Santa's sleigh...

"Holding your hand."

He nods, as if that's all he needed to know, and looks ahead too, shuffling a little in his seat. You both watch another full cycle, the lights dancing in the same exact pattern they have over, and over again, and you think this must be how you go insane, sat trapped here on a ride car with a beautiful, if slightly unhinged, strangers hand in yours.

"Why?"

You blink. You're stupid. You're weird. You're unhinged. He climbed around the side of the car and yet you've out-stranged him in one simple movement, and now you're stuck here, committed to the bit until -

"You're scared. It's nice to have someone when you're scared," you say quickly, uncertain as you possibly could be as the words tumble out of your mouth. In truth, you don't really know why you did it, or why you're still doing it, other than he seemed like he needed it. And maybe you did too.

He just grunts, and you sit in as much silence as you can among the repetitive chaos of the ride.

Then, with no warning, he starts moving his thumb, stroking the side of your hand in a gentle wave of movement. Your breath catches, and you watch from the corner of your eye as his nervous energy dissipates until he slouches against the seat of the car.

"Dieter. I'm D - fuck - Dieter," he says softly, a red and green light blasting him right in the face and making him wince.

But then it hits you. Not the light - that, thankfully, stays on the other side of the car, blinding a squinting Dieter beside you.

No. It's this man. Dieter. You know him. You've seen him on your TV about a million times this last month - that shitty movie always plays just before Christmas, and this year is no exception. The movie was terrible, for all you'd seen of it. It was some ensemble cast mostrosity with terrible CGI monsters and even worse acting, not at all festive in the slightest and made even more annoying by the ads littered throughout it.

From what you remember, he was terrible too. An Oscar winning actor, cast in some movie so shitty it didn't even gain a cult following. The only thing you heard was any good was the documentary that came out of it, but if your friends were to be believed, that was only good because of copious amounts of explosions and illicit substances.

He sighs, easily spotting whatever baffled look just slapped you in the face the moment you realised his identity, and looks away from you.

"Yeah, that Dieter."

"Cool," you choke out.

Because it kind of is. It's not every day you get stuck on a ride with a famous actor. It's not every day you get to hold his hand and have him stroke soothing circles across your knuckles. It's not every day you get to see just how much more beautiful he is up close compared to his slick-haired, eyelinered counterpart in that god damned movie.

"Sit tight, the ride will begin moving again shortly!"

"Bullshit," he grumbles from beside you, shifting closer to your side so he can rest your arm against the seat.

"Favorite food?" you ask suddenly.

"What?"

"Favorite food? Time's gonna pass anyway, may as well fill it with something that isn't hot air balloon, target, sleigh, snowman -"

"I hate that fuckin' snowman. Tacos. Yours?"

"Who doesn't love tacos."

The ride never does get started again.

Instead, minutes pass, and you throw question after question back and forth with Dieter. The lights go out. He grips your hand a little tighter, and you pull to scoot him a little closer. The lights come up. The spell is broken. The nightmare is over. You're fairly sure you'll have that song ringing in your ears for weeks.

You still hold his hand.

One by one the ride cars are evacuated. Yours is last. Dieter helps you down from the car, his hand finding yours again, still warm from being in his for so long.

Then, you're walking beside an illuminated track and blank screens, abandoned ride car after abandoned ride car, and you're free, with Dieter by your side.

You escape via the gift shop - the novelty toys and candy ignored, Dieter's hand guiding you toward the exit so he can throw his head back in glee at the sight of the wide open sky above him.

In your pocket, your phone buzzes frantically, messages bombarding you now that you weren't trapped in the depths of a metal building. 6 new messages. 2 missed calls. Your friends, still waiting in the parking lot, trying to reach you while the lights blared and the music played.

>>did the ride eat you?

>>if she doesn't hurry up i'm gonna eat her

>>sorry I get grouchy when I'm hungry

>>have you got locked in the bathroom again?

>>THE QUEUE IS OVER AN HOUR?!>!?!?!

>>this egg game owes us dinner

"You want tacos?" Dieter asks from beside you as you hastily tap out a reply, and before you can answer you look up to see him striding away into the crowd, parting the stream of foot traffic with his broad frame until it engulfs him.

You can't help the feeble whimper that escapes you when you watch him walk away. Or the way your arms fall limply to your side when he's out of your view and gone.

You can't help the smile, either, that pulls at your cheeks when he bobs and weaves back through the crowd, stopping a few steps away and jabbing the thumb on one hand over his shoulder and holding the other out to you.

"You coming?" he shouts, with an expectant look on his face, and with a swipe of your thumb, the message is deleted, quickly replaced by another as you make your way toward him, hand reaching for his.

>you guys go ahead, I'm gonna be a while longer

[futuraa-free]

RED.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Reader

Summary: Old and new Christmas traditions, plus some things lost to time.

Rating: E

Word Count: 547

Content Warnings: holiday fluff (with a little bit of blues), established relationships, no description of reader

Notes: Merry Christmas! @ghotifishreads 🎄✨ this is your secret santa speaking! happy holidays, honey! ❤️ I wanted to be able to deliver something a bit more special, but i’ve been so busy with life this was all I could do! I hope u love it ❤️

Thank you so much to @sp00kymulderr for being the best and organizing the gift exchange for our @dieterbravobrainrotclub 💓💓

Dividers by @saradika-graphics ❤️

His hair started greying as he was turning thirty, right as autumn was going into winter, just a smattering of it around his temples, only a few of strands unnoticeable to people’s eyes.

Today, around twenty years and many more greys later, they twinkle under the lights, taking the same gold tones of the Christmas tree they’d made together a few hours before.

He shoved himself under it in the hope of reliving the childhood memory of looking at the lights while laying on the floor, the one moment where as a young boy he would follow their comforting pattern void of any worry.

“Come here” he says sticking out his hand, the tips of his fingers calling you over with urgency.

He doesn’t need to look to know that his plea will be answered, the noise of your steps and the warm body next to his a few seconds later bringing a smile to his face.

“Hi”

“Hi”

“What are you doing here?” you ask, cold hand from the outside air touching his cheek

“I thought the lights were pretty” the answer is a little too evasive, he knows you know it too, during the few months you’ve been together he’s come to understand that you could redraw the ridges and creases on the palm of his hand with your eyes closed, that he can hide no piece of himself to you.

“Okay, any particular reason you’re doing this?”

“I used to do it every year when i was a kid, made it into my own tradition until there was no space for me to fit under the tree” it’s a fond memory looking back, he wishes he had kept up with it, that most things he knew from childhood hadn’t gotten lost to the choices he made as an adult.

“Good thing I insisted we get the biggest tree then” you shuffle closer, the weight of your body soft against him.

“Nostalgia caught up to me and all I can only think of is everything I lost by becoming an adult” he says, turning his face into yours, the tip of his nose right against your cheek “I think I’m grieving something I didn’t know I had”

You meet his nose with yours, mouths only a breath away “You know how I fight that feeling?” he shakes his head, too dazed to say anything.

“By making new memories” a kiss on the forehead, “Tell me what you want to do for the holidays and all the years to come we’ll do the same” a kiss on his nose “Until we’re old and all we have is the traditions we’ve made for ourselves” one on the chin, then your hands between his hair soothing away his blues.

His eyes are glittering the same color of the lights now, its own pools of warm gold, he nods moving closer to you “Okay” there’s a mischievous smile playing on his lips “I want to kiss you under the mistletoe”

You smile “I don’t think this is mistletoe, my love” amusement coloring your voice

“It’s okay we’re making our own traditions” and with a kiss you seal the promise that if time must turn you will gently steer its wheel, unmoored by getting pieces of yourselves lost to it.

[jennaispunk]

Puppy Love

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Rating: E (it's fluff)

Word Count: 2.4 k

Tags/Warnings: fluff, established relationship, one brief mention of drug use (weed), brief allusion to smut, one tiny (bad) period joke, sweet!Dieter, no description of reader is given, if I missed anything let me know.

A/N: This fic was written for @bitchesuntitled, as a gift for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub Secret Santa Exchange. Happy Holidays, DD!! 💜 I hope you enjoy this little slice of Dieter fluff. Thanks to @sp00kymulderr for organizing.

moodboard by me. dividers and banner by @saradika-graphics

“Dee, please stop talking about that dog.”  

You tilt your chin up and look at him. You swear he hasn’t shut up about that dog since filming wrapped. Somehow, this dog really made an impression on Dieter. You knew he was an animal lover, but this was bordering on obsession.

“I can’t help it, babe.” He huffs. “If you saw him, you would have fallen in love too.”

Dieter sighs. He doesn’t really know why but something about that dog just got to him. Maybe it was his story, or the way he looked at him. All Dieter knew was that he connected with Rolo instantly. That rescue Greyhound had left his mark on Dieter’s heart. He knew what it was like to be used and abandoned. No living creature should have to endure that. He’d spent every day since wishing he could have taken Rolo home and given him the life he deserved.

“I’m sure I would have, but you talk so much about him. I’m starting to get jealous.”

You can’t resist the temptation to tease him, but there is a silver a truth in your words.

“Jealous?” he smirks, rolling the two of you over and pinning you to the mattress. “You have nothing to be jealous of, babe.  You’re a much better kisser than he is.”

He rolls his hips against yours, letting you feel his arousal. You know exactly what he’s trying to do, and you love him to much for it not to work.

“Gee thanks.” You giggle. “You sure know how to make a girl feel so good about herself.”

His brow arches and he brings his face closer to yours. Your lips are millimeters from colliding, your breaths mingling.

“I’m about to make to make you feel so damn good.”

The twinkle of mischief dances in his eyes as his hand works its way under your sleep shirt.

You lay awake long after Dieter fell asleep, jealous of how easily he could drift off. It always took you forever to fall asleep, your mind always going into overdrive at the worst possible time, even after you’ve been thoroughly satisfied by the man you love.

Christmas was just around the corner and that was the reason for this bout of insomnia. Dieter had told you that gifts didn’t matter to him. He enjoyed spoiling you, and anything he wanted or needed he could get for himself anytime. Still, you wanted to do something special for him this year. To give him just a little of what he’s given you. What do you get a man who has everything? That question had you racking your brain for nights on end. Then it hit you. What better gift than a puppy? Not just any puppy, though. You had to figure out a way to get Rolo. That would be a Christmas present he would never forget.

The next morning, a quick Google search gives you the contact information for the rescue organization. You scroll through their website and find Rolo’s picture among the dozens of other adorable dogs in their care. The first step was going to be contacting them to see if Rolo is even available for adoption.  If he wasn’t, all bets were off. You chew your bottom lip as you think of a way you can make the call without Dieter knowing.

“What ‘cha thinking about, babe?”

Your eyes snap to meet his. You clear your throat and close the webpage. Cocking your head to the side, you give him a cheeky grin.

“Breakfast.”

You surprise yourself with how quickly the word rolls off your tongue. Lying to Dieter was something you didn’t like doing, but it was necessary. A little white lie wouldn’t hurt. Anyway, he’d forgive you once he saw Rolo.

“Breakfast, huh?”

He raises his brow, not quite convinced but willing to let it go…for now.

“Yeah. How about I make us some of my famous French Toast? And Bacon?”

“You sure know the way to my heart, babe. I love your French Toast.”

You smile at him as you slip your phone into your pocket. Rising from the couch, you pad to the kitchen and begin gathering the ingredients.

Making the excuse of having to run errands, you head out into the bright California sun. Running errands wasn’t a complete lie, you did need a few things. Stopping at Starbucks, you order your favorite drink and find an empty table. This is the perfect place to organize your thoughts and get a plan together away from Dieter’s nosy self. You pull out your phone and call the rescue.

“Thank you for calling Tails Rescue. This is Mandy speaking, how can I help you?”

You relay the situation to the girl on the other end and breathe a sigh of relief when she tells you Rolo is available for adoption. The adoption manager is available this afternoon and Mandy sets up a time for you to meet Rolo and talk details.

You’re smiling like a fool as you disconnect the call. Dieter is going to be so excited on Christmas morning. The look on his face is going to be priceless.

The second you lay eyes on Rolo in person you know exactly why Dieter fell in love with him. He’s a little shy at first, but within a few minutes, he is laying his head in your lap and looking up at you with a slightly dopey expression. Rolo’s mannerisms and sweet face are too much to resist, much like Dieter himself. This one-eyed Greyhound with beautiful brindle markings has completely stolen your heart, just like Dieter said he would.

There’s a bounce in your step as you walk back to your car. This dog is going to be the perfect addition to your lives. The only thing is your going to need some help in pulling this off. You need somewhere to store all the things you need to buy for Rolo: food, toys and a comfortable bed. There’s nowhere in your apartment to hide those things without Dieter finding them. He’s a notorious snooper and always finds your gifts for him, no matter where you hide them. Luckily, you know just who to call.

Walking back into the apartment, you drop your bags on the dining room table. Dieter immediately starts rifling through the bags to see what you brought home.

“Hey, nosey. Get out of there.” you tease. You reach out and slowly pull the bag away from him.

“Come on, babe. Is there anything in there for me?”

He wiggles his brow at you and reaches out for the bag, pulling it back over to him.

“Not this time. Unless you’re about to start your period soon.”

You smirk at him and wink. He huffs at you and begins rifling through the bag again, undeterred by your little joke.

When he finds nothing in the first bag that interests him, he sets to work on the second bag.

“Really, babe?” he asks. “More lights for the Christmas Tree? Are you afraid Santa won’t remember where you live?”

You slap his arm as you giggle. The way he says it makes part of you wonder if he still believes in Santa Claus.

“These are to replace the ones you broke last week. You ate too many of Luke’s special brownies and you spent hours trying to make the colors change, remember?”

The string lights you had on the tree weren’t color changing but Dieter, in his inebriated state, had tried for hours to get them to change, destroying them in the process. You’ll never forget the look on his face when you came home and found him.

He chuckles softly and nods, preoccupied with the other contents of your shopping bag.

“I thought you’d like these. They’re color changing and they even come with a remote.”

That’s enough to get his attention and he picks up the box. Examining the box, he studies the different settings and patterns that he can try out.

You snatch the box and playfully narrow your eyes at him. It probably was a bad idea to buy color changing lights, but you hope he won’t make you regret it.

“No playing with the lights while you’re high, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” he mumbles, snatching the box back from you.

He turns the box over in his hands, examining it once more. His brow furrows and he looks up at you.

“These say ‘chew proof’. Who the fuck is going to chew on our Christmas lights?”

You shrug and walk over to hang your purse on the hook.  

“I didn’t even notice that. I just thought the color changing effects were cool.”

You grab an item from your purse and present it to Dieter, hoping to distract him.

“I got you a Kit Kat. King size for my king.”

You raise your brows at him then lean in to kiss his cheek.

Christmas was just a week away and you had been so busy. Between decorating the apartment, buying gifts to ship to your sister and her family and making sure everything was ready for Rolo’s arrival, you felt like you barely had any time to yourself. All you wanted was a nice hot bubble bath and maybe an edible to help you relax.

Everything was all set for Rolo’s big debut. All the things your new addition would need were safely stored at your best friend’s house. You made arrangements to pick Rolo up from the rescue on Christmas Eve and he would stay with her overnight. She’d bring Rolo to you early Christmas morning and then Dieter would get the surprise of his life.

Dieter was out having dinner with his agent, and you had the apartment to yourself. You dip into your stash and shed your clothes as you head to the bathroom. As you wait for the water to reach the perfect temperature, you turn on some soft music. This is just what you need to de-stress. With the tub now full, you drop in your favorite bath bomb and sink into the steaming water with a contented sigh.

You slip out on Christmas Eve under the pretense of visiting your best friend to exchange the little gifts you had for each other. After your visit, you head to the shelter and pick up Rolo. Getting him all set up in his temporary home, you head back home to Dieter.

Christmas was a big deal for Dieter. He never had a traditional Christmas growing up.  His parents were barely present and his Christmases as a child were meager at best. This was your third Christmas together, and the two of you had started your own traditions. He was waiting for you when you got home, already in his Christmas pajamas and the Chinese food spread out of the coffee table. The living room lights had been dimmed and the lights on the tree glowed, casting blue and purple shadows on the wall in almost an ethereal pattern.

You quickly changed into your Christmas pajamas and met him on the couch. You each silently made a Christmas wish before you ate. Once dinner was done and dishes were cleared, you settled back onto the couch for your Christmas movie marathon: Christmas Vacation for him, It’s A Wonderful Life for you. Dieter wrapped the blanket around you as you snuggled into his chest.

Six A.M. on Christmas morning, you slowly creep out of bed, careful not to disturb Dieter as he snores lightly. He rolls over and you freeze in your tracks, holding your breath. You exhale softly when he doesn’t wake up and you make your way to the door.

Your best friend arrives right on time, and you thank her profusely for all her help. You get Rolo’s things tucked into the living room and put on his brand new collar, complete with a name tag and a big red bow.

“Welcome home, Rolo.” You whisper as you lightly scratch his chin.

“Let’s go wake him up, huh? He’s going to shit himself when he sees you.”

The two of you head back into the bedroom and you watch Dieter for a moment. You almost hate to disturb his peaceful sleep, but you can’t wait another moment to give him his gift.

“All right, buddy.” you whisper. “Go say hi.”

You hold your breath as Rolo pads over to the bed and softly nudges Dieter’s arm.

“It’s too early to be fooling around, babe.” he groans and rolls over, away from you.

You stifle a giggle and silently urge Rolo to try waking Dieter up once again.

Rolo appears undeterred and sticks his cold nose right on Dieter’s bare back. You erupt into a fit of laughter as Dieter bots upright.

“What the fuck!”

His hands rake down his face as he tries to get his bearings. He wipes the sleep from his eyes and is greeted by an enthusiastic nuzzle.

“Rolo! Hey boy!”

Dieter lovingly strokes Rolo’s head and neck. His mouth is slightly agape as he turns his wide eyes to you.

“Babe…what?…is this real?”

Seeing Dieter so happy makes your heart swell and your vision blurs with unshed tears. His reaction is even better than you had hoped.

“Yeah babe,” you answer softly. “It’s real.”

He leaps from the bed and sweeps you into his arms. He squeezes you tight, lifting your feet off the ground. Your giggles fill the room, and Rolo bounds around you in a circle at the commotion.

“This is the best Christmas ever. I can’t believe you did this for me. Thank you.”

His lips softly brush against yours as his fingers tangle in your hair. Your lips move in tandem, languid movements; there’s no rush, just the physical manifestation of love.

“You’re welcome.” you whisper softly against his lips, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Merry Christmas, baby.” he echoes. “I’ll make sure I properly thank you tonight.”

He wiggles his brows and smirks. His hips gently rock against yours, as if you were oblivious to his meaning. Dieter was never one for subtlety.

“Mmmm…I’m going to hold you to that.”

Your fingers run the length of his stubbled jaw. The quiet chuckle that you elicit vibrates between the two of you.

The peace around you shatters as he grabs your hand and yanks you toward the living room, almost making you lose your balance in his haste to get you moving.

“Come on. I can’t wait for you to open your gifts from me.”

[quinnnfabrgay-writes]

Santa's Little Helpers pt. i

pairing: dieter x fat f!reader x ezra (eventually)

summary: Dieter gets you two a gig as Santa's Little Helpers at the mall in town.

wc: 1.8k

tags/warnings: established fwb (dieter x reader), mentions of being overstimulated (and not in the fun and sexy way), screaming children mentioned, Michael Buble mention (apologies to those that enjoy his music lol), the dialogue is cheesy as hell (and i enjoy the hell out of it)

a/n: Happy (belated) Christmas Lo, @covetyou ! It is I, your @dieterbravobrainrotclub Secret Santa! I'm so sorry this is after actual Christmas, but I still hope it brings you some cheer. And I'm so sorry that I have to split it into two parts, I refuse to get rid of the smut, but that part's not quite finished yet, and I didn't want to make you wait any longer without at least something.Thank you for answering my many asks, Ezra and Dieter are a FILTHY pair together and I wanted to make sure they didn't go too overboard and ick you out, lol. Not gonna lie, I was VERY intimidated when I got your name, I absolutely love every single thing you write, so I hope this can bring you even a fraction of the amount of joy you bring to this fandom!

There was a very different direction I was going to go with this, but then I remembered the "Previously Unaired Christmas" episode of Glee existed, and then this mess was born. But instead of Sexy Santa getting them drunk and robbing them, they all bone down freaknasty holiday style. Unfortunately, said boning takes place in pt. ii.

A major shoutout to @perotovar for encouraging my cheesy and filthy inclinations; another shoutout to @morallyinept for her Ezra One Stop Shop post, I know I definitely need to spend more time with Ezra to really understand him, but this was a MASSIVE help when tackling this incredibly intimidating character; and a HUGE thank you to @sp00kymulderr for not only putting this event together, but also for creating such a fun and accepting environment for us all to share.

Divider credit: @saradika-graphics

"Dieter… what the ever loving fuck have you gotten us into now?"

You stare bewilderingly at your best friend and roommate before you, a pile of red and green fabric clutched in his arms, golden jingle bells stitched onto the itchy looking fabric. Dieter simply shrugs his shoulders, a dopey grin on his face.

"I got us a gig!"

You continue to stare incredulously as he retreats back towards your shared bedroom, no further explanation given as if it was the most ordinary and obvious thing in the world. Even in the many years you have known Dieter, growing up together and running off to Hollywood to pursue your shared dreams, he still finds ways to leave you absolutely flummoxed.

His voice echoes from down the hall, "come on and get ready or we're going to be late!"

You roll your eyes and huff as you begrudgingly make your way to the bedroom. A gig is a gig, right?

You could kill Dieter with your own two hands right now and you would still need an outlet for the frustration coursing through you.

Shrieks and cries of children mix with the drone of too many people carrying on in their own conversations, the irritating tinny sound of Christmas songs playing over the mall's sound system paired with the scratchy, clingy fabric of what turned out to be an elf costume Dieter had brought home are all combining into the perfect recipe for an overstimulated meltdown on your end.

You fidget with the neckline of your costume, your tits threatening to pop out every time you take too deep of a breath. The way the fabric clings to your curves isn't necessarily uncomfortable, but it's obvious it wasn't intended to fit this way. The dress supplied to you was clearly made for someone smaller, but Dieter swore up and down that was the biggest size they had. You would have believed him if it weren't for the fact that every time you look over at him, you find his eyes glued to your chest, a wry smirk at home on his lips.

If you weren't so goddamn annoyed you might've been able to appreciate that, in fact, you do look smokin' hot in this ridiculous polyester get-up. But as the minutes tick on and on, the Santa appointed to your shift, some guy named Gary, still nowhere in sight, you're one more Michael Buble rendition of any Christmas song away from throwing a tantrum that could rival a toddler's. And there are a few throwing spectacular fits at the moment while waiting in line.

You lean over in Dieter's direction, a fake cheerful smile plastered across your face in hopes of not showing your annoyance as you grumble under your breath, "where the fuck is this guy?"

"HO HO HO!"

You and Dieter both whip around in the direction of the outburst, watching as who you assume to be Gary dressed as Santa jogs his way over to the fake North Pole set up in the middle of the mall.

He waves to the crowd as children start cheering and screeching choruses of Santa, it's Santa, hi Santa in hopes of getting his attention.

"I must apologize, sorry to keep you all waiting! There was a small hiccup at the toy factory that Santa had to attend to," he bellows joyfully, a soft twang to his words barely concealed. Some of the parents laugh along, just happy that they're that much closer to getting this over with, "but that's no excuse, so Santa here has brought you some extra special goodies!"

More cheers and echoes of excitement erupt from the children in line as he raises a red felt bag filled to the brim with games and toys. You sneak a look over at Dieter, a mirrored expression of uneasiness staring back at you as the crowd of over ecstatic tots starts to get more rambunctious.

But just when you're afraid you're about to have a panic attack and pass out dressed as Santa's #1 slutty elf mistress in the middle of a mall, the Santa raises a single gloved hand, his left palm radiating an air of authority. You stare in awe as the shrieks and screams dwindle into quiet excited giggles. A knowing and satisfied smirk peeks out from under the full fake beard, a quiet chuckle escapes his lips before he turns towards the plush red velvet chair that's been sitting in waiting for his arrival.

It's hard to swallow as you discreetly press your thighs together, not sure you want to even try and get into why that one simple action was so. damn. hot.

The quiet confidence and inherent authority in which he moved, the way he was able to tame a crowd with a few sweet words and the wave of his hand.

And there you were absolutely floored.

He takes a seat, quickly slapping his knees before reaching his hands out and addressing everyone.

"Alright now, who's first?"

Time must have somehow sped up, because in no time at all the last child in line was receiving her gift from Santa's bag, squealing an enthusiastic thank you thank you thank you! before launching herself at him and giving Santa a big hug, her parents apologizing as they try to coax her off of him.

As the family starts walking away, the girl chatting excitedly over her new gift, Santa stands and turns towards you and Dieter, clapping his hands before giving you two a giant smile.

"Thank you both for sticking around, Gary had to drop out last minute. I didn't get the call to come fill in until about 20 minutes before I showed up. Had to change into the suit before I even got in the car."

You arch an eyebrow, leaning your head to the side in thought before asking, "But what about the toys? How were you able to scrounge those up last minute? We thought this was just supposed to be pictures with Santa."

He rubs the back of his neck as he drops his gaze, not making any eye contact as he softly chuckles, a blush creeping up his face giving him those picture perfect red rosy cheeks mostly associated with Santa.

"I uh… I own the toy store just down the street, figured it was the least I could do knowing how long these people must have been waiting in line."

You just stare in silence, unable to comprehend just how good this mysterious man is. From beside you, all you hear is Dieter whispering in amazement, "you really are Santa."

The man just chuckles again, shaking his head softly before motioning to the fake Santa's Workshop behind him "If you don't mind I'm going to dip into there real quick and make a quick call, let Gary know everything got taken care of."

Not even one second after the door closes, you and Dieter are turning to each other, eyes wide, both of your faces scrunched in poor attempts at hiding your smiles and giggles as you both freak out over who you have now dubbed as Sexy Santa.

"Oh my god!" you whisper scream.

"Okay, so you were feelin' it too? I was so afraid that I had finally gone too far lusting after a mall Santa."

You both keep your voices low, whispering almost conspiratorially over your shared sudden crush.

"Okay, okay, shhh," you whisper and laugh, taking Dieter by the shoulders, forcing him to keep still and focus on you. "Okay, so I know this is a little out there, even for us, but we don't know this guy - it's not like we're going to run into him on a daily basis, so I say we shoot our shot. Wanna see if he wants to come home with us?"

"You saucy little minx," Dieter teases. "Usually I'm the one with the bad ideas."

You simply shrug, a cheeky grin etched across your face, "I'm owed a couple of my own, aren't I?"

Before you can think too hard on it and start double guessing yourself, you skip up to the door, knocking as the nerves already start threatening to creep in.

A muffled come in echoes from inside.

Neither you nor Dieter were quite ready for the Adonis that was standing in front of you. The Santa jacket shed away, along with the hat, gloves, and beard, leaving the mystery man in a tight white undershirt, the felt pants attached to red suspenders still strapped around his shoulders. His left bicep testing the barriers of how much a sleeve can be stretched, his golden skin littered with random freckles, or at least from what little you can see. A small tuft of blonde hair standing out amongst the rest of his dark brown tresses piques your interest.

Something glinting under the lights catches your eye, bringing your attention to his right side, and in turn bringing your attention to his right arm which seemed to be made of… metal?

You quickly avert your gaze back up, hoping that you weren't caught staring, but you weren't quick enough. Your eyes meeting his own, a smile still on his face.

"I usually prefer to go without it," he shrugs, chuckling before continuing, "but I didn't really want to answer questions as to why Santa had one arm all of a sudden."

Both you and Dieter quietly giggle, both of you clearly charmed by his apparent altruistic proclivities.

"So you really are just some nice guy, huh?" Dieter sounds from beside you. Alright, I guess we're trying to butter him up first, not a bad plan.

In the blink of an eye, the atmosphere in the small shed changes, thickens with a sudden and growing tension. Ezra's smile twisting into a mischevious smile as he eyes you both up and down.

"Well, I never said I was nice."

Before either of you can respond, he takes a couple of steps towards where you and Dieter stand frozen in anticipation, scratching at the scruff on his jaw, his eyes alight with what only could be described as trouble. He leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to a teasing murmur.

"You do realize the two of you don't whisper as quietly as you think you do, right?"

Oh shit.

Your heart sinks down to the bottom of your stomach, looking over at Dieter for some reassurance, but instead it only makes your nerves spike more as you can see him struggling to mask his growing embarrassment.

"I mean, the two of you don't even know my name."

Oh my god, he thinks we're just a couple of freaks. Fair, but fuck!

"Listen, we-we're sorry you overheard that. We sh-"

He raises his left palm, quieting your rambled apologies.

"Mmm, now I didn't say that as an objection, it was just a mere observation."

You struggle to catch your breath as he drops his hand and shuffles closer, leaning forward to mumble in yours and Dieter's ear.

"I may not be the real Santa, but I have an inkling that the two of you have been real naughty this year. I'd love to show you what happens when his little elves start getting these… unsavory ideas in their little heads."

[bitchwitch1981]

It's written in the Cards

@whatsnewalycat 'tis I, your Secret Santa. I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you @sp00kymulderr for organising everything. Thank you to the @dieterbravobrainrotclub for always being amazing.

Thank you @jessthebaker for holding my hand 😆😘

Summary: Dieter asks you for a tarot reading.

Pure fluff

Dieter comes with his own warnings

Word count: 2522

“Who the hell has a tarot reader at a Christmas party?” you grumbled without any real fire, “Halloween party, yeah. New Year's Eve party, why not? But Christmas?” You shuffled around the fortune-telling tent that had been set up out back of Oscar-winning actor Dieter Bravo’s Sherman Oaks home, placing a cloth on the table and moving the chairs into position.

“And he needn't think I'll be wearing this either. No job is worth pneumonia.” You muttered, picking up the barely there, lacy goth costume that had been provided by the party's host, “There's more fabric in my left sock.”

A flustered-looking woman popped her head through the tent opening, phone in one hand and a clipboard in the other. “Hi, I'm Mr Bravo's assistant. How's everything going in here? Do you need anything?”

“I'm good, thanks.” You continued to move around the tent setting things how you wanted them. “Oh, please let your boss know I will not be wearing the costume he provided. I hope that won't be a problem?”

“Costume? I don't know about any costume. Wait, let me see it?” She asked, looking confused.

You picked up the scrap of fabric and handed it over to her, barely containing your giggle as she cursed under her breath.

“I already told him not to put this out. Don't worry, it's not a problem at all.” She placed the garment over her arm preparing to walk away. “If you need anything at all this evening, please let me know.” She turned to leave, then paused, glancing back at you, “Please don't read for Mr Bravo tonight. There's a lot of drugs and alcohol around, and both can make him take things a bit literally. We really don't need a repeat of the time that guy told him he would be a great stripper. He shaved his entire body and doused himself in baby oil. It was like trying to catch a greased seal!”

She shuddered at the memory and walked away, calling to various staff members to do things as she went. Leaving you with a mental image that nobody should have.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

The evening went pretty much as you expected. The cream of Tinseltown scattered around the property, getting drunk, getting high, and from the sounds emitting from various windows, getting laid.

You had been doing readings all evening. Churning out multiple variations of “Your next project will be your best yet” and “You will be more popular than ever in the coming year.” No one wanted a real reading, too intent on having a good time and taking advantage of all the illicit substances on offer. You had indulged in a little tequila yourself and were feeling a bit squiffy. You decided to start packing your things away when you heard a voice from the tent entrance.

“Have you got time for one last reading?”

You turned to find the party host, Dieter Bravo, standing before you looking dishevelled in a stretched out t-shirt, pyjama pants and a green bathrobe that looked as if it had seen better days, his hands and shirt covered in what looked like paint. It was dark outside, but he was still wearing sunglasses.

“Erm, I don't know. I was told that I shouldn't read for you. Your assistant explicitly told me not to.” you explained as you continued to move around the tent. “Besides, what could you possibly have to ask the cards? You're rich and famous. You have all the awards, and you can have anyone in your bed with a snap of your fingers. You have it all, what more could you want?”

“Yeah, my life's perfect,” he scoffed. “I have everything. Except real friends, fulfilment, love, artistic inspiration.” he peered at you over his sunglasses. You were surprised by the honesty and the look of genuine sadness in his eyes.

You thought for a moment, mentally scolding yourself for weakening at the sight of a man pouting like a child who's been denied a bowl of ice cream. “I guess a quick 3 card reading couldn't do any real harm” you sighed, pulling your Cozy Witch deck out of your bag where you had just stashed it.

Shuffling the cards thoroughly, you fanned them out on the table, gesturing for him to take the seat opposite you, “have your question firmly in your mind, and choose three cards and place them left to right” you instructed.

He contemplated the cards, as if willing the answers to show themselves to him through divine intervention. He held his hands above the cards and ran them back and forth, almost picking out cards and then changing his mind in favour of others. He made his final choices, laying them out in order, gazing at you with big, soulful, pleading brown eyes.

“So, do they say what I should do?”

Turning the cards over, you try to put the representations into a meaningful narrative that could, hopefully, bring him some comfort and maybe a little insight.

“We start with The Patient Witch, which corresponds to The Hanged Man in a traditional deck” You explain.

Dieter’s hands fly to his neck, “hanged?” he whispers, looking spooked.

“It doesn't mean that you will be hanged, sweetheart”, you say soothingly, remembering what his assistant had said about him taking things literally when he's drunk and stoned. “It means you're feeling trapped, confined. Ironically, it shows you are looking for direction.”

The actor chuckled at that. “Like I don't get enough of that. What else does it mean?”

“It means that in order to move forward, you need to get comfortable with being still. Whether that be physically or mentally. I'm sure you have big goals for yourself, but you need to accept that they may not happen, or maybe they won't happen in the way that you want them to. It could be that something better is waiting for the right time to come to you.” you tell him, turning to the next card.

“OK, next is the Ace of Swords,” you announced as you studied the image.

“Swords?” says Dieter warily, “Swords are pointy and sharp. Swords are bad right?”

You shake your head, “No suit or card is necessarily bad, although there can be potentially negative meanings to cards. The suit of Swords relates to the mind and thinking.” You share, losing yourself in the cards and their imagery. “The Ace has to do with ideas. You've got lots of them running around that pretty head of yours, dontcha?”

You paused, realising what you had just said thanks to the tequila you had enjoyed earlier and cautiously peered at the actor, hoping you hadn't crossed the line.

He was smiling at you coquettishly. “So, you think I'm pretty do you?” he teased with a cheeky glint in his eye, “hey, do you wanna have sex with me?”

Blushing, you looked down at the table, “that's not written in the cards for tonight.”

He threw his head back and laughed. Real laughter, not the forced sound you had heard from him so many times in interviews on TV and YouTube. “I like you, you're funny.” he chuckled.

You realised that he probably didn't get turned down very often, but he took it with a grace that you hadn't expected and you found yourself liking him more for it.

“OK, now for the final card, the Two of Wands.” You pointed at the card. “This is a card of choices. Different paths you can go down, and options to take. We aren't meant to know what the future holds for us, because then we would just sit and wait for it to happen without putting in any effort. But we can create through our actions. And different decisions will lead to different outcomes.”

Dieter peered at the cards as if hoping they would offer more insight or maybe some step-by-step instructions. “Is that it?

“Well, let's put it all together shall we?” you replied.

“The way I see it, to stop feeling confined and directionless, you need to put your ideas and creativity to work to build the future that you want. It won't be easy, but you'll appreciate it more for the effort that you put into it.” you offer. You glance up at him only to find him hanging on your every word.

He took a deep breath and removed his glasses to look at you fully for the first time. “Creativity and effort, huh?” he questioned, “and that will get me where I need to be?”

“It seems that it would help to get you onto the right path.” You gazed at the cards again, hoping that you hadn't made a fool of yourself by reading under the influence. You packed the cards away again while he sat and contemplated your words.

“Can I show you something?” he asked shyly, causing you to look up from your bag. You nodded as he stood up and took your hand. “Come with me.”

You walked towards the house but didn't enter it. Dieter directed you to what you assumed was the pool house. He opened the door and ushered you inside. He followed you in and turned on the lights as he closed the door.

There were paintings everywhere. Some were copies of famous works, others were original pieces. There were bold colourful canvases, and there were works that were dark and had a melancholy to them. In the centre of the room stood an easel with a large blank canvas on it. You turned to find Dieter looking nervously at you.

“Dieter, did you do all of these?” you asked, unable to take everything in. “They're amazing. You're truly talented.”

“Could this be the creativity that gets me the future I want?” he queried, seeming slightly unsure of himself. “Would I need to give up acting to pursue this?”

You were hit with an overwhelming need to comfort the man standing before you, his vulnerability on full display. You moved closer to him and placed your hand on his arm. “Do you want to give it up?”

You could see he was thinking things through. “I don't want to give it up, but I think I need to be more selective with the roles I take. No more big-budget franchises. No more dinosaurs.”

You had seen Beasts of the Bubble when it came out. You had also read about the fallout from his divorce from Anika when she left him to be part of a throuple with her yoga instructor and his girlfriend. Dieter had been through a rough couple of years, so it was understandable that he was looking to make some changes and find some stability.

“There's no reason why you should give up acting. You are incredibly talented, and being more considered in the roles you choose could be a smart move. Your art is something you can take with you on location for downtime.” you mused.

“Maybe you could invite me to your first exhibition,” you quipped.

Dieter gazed at you with wide eyes, “You'll be the guest of honour” he said seriously. “Tell me what you think of this one,” he said excitedly as he moved to one of the larger canvases.

You spent the next couple of hours being shown Dieter’s art and listening to him explain the meaning behind each piece. He called his driver to take you home when you couldn't stop yawning.

“My assistant has your contact details, right? So I can let you know if I have an exhibition.” He asked as he settled you in the car.

You nodded yes, trying to speak but yawning instead.

Dieter chuckled, “All alright sleepyhead, you go get some sleep.” He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead, bringing a smile to your face. You waved goodbye to him as he closed the door and the car pulled away.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Over the next year, you heard from Dieter occasionally. More often than not to ask about the meaning behind different tarot cards. You didn't see him again though, his schedule was taken up with new movie roles, mostly indie films rather than big-budget blockbusters.

So you were surprised to find him waiting for you outside your small house one Saturday in December. You had been Christmas shopping and your arms were loaded with bags of gifts. He rushed forward and started grabbing bags from you, talking at a mile a minute. “Finally, you're back! I was beginning to think you were never coming home. Or that you'd moved. Can we put these inside? I need you to come with me, I have to show you something.”

You followed him, smiling, listening to him yammer away. “Hello Dieter, how have you been?” You unlocked the door and he walked in to put the bags down. You felt a bit self-conscious having the Hollywood superstar in your tiny home, having seen his own luxurious house. If he noticed he didn't let on as he escorted you back out to his car.

He chattered on while he drove. Telling you about the movies he had been making and the things he had done and seen on location. He was a surprisingly good driver, getting you to your destination without issue. When you looked to see where you were you saw you were outside a swanky-looking art gallery. Dieter ran round the car to open your door.

“Dieter, what are we doing here” you asked.

He suddenly looked bashful, gazing down at the sidewalk. “Erm, I wanted you to be the first to see it. Seeing as you are a big part of why I did it,” he said.

“Me? What did I do? What did you do?” you questioned him as he escorted you towards the door to the gallery.

“The grand opening is Monday, but I wanted to show you before anyone else comes in.” He walked you around the space showing you all of his art and telling you the stories behind each piece. “This last piece is dedicated to you, as a thank you for giving me the encouragement I needed to do this. It's my favourite piece in the whole collection.”

You turned around to look at the painting, your hand flying to your mouth as you gasped in shock. In front of you was a large canvas depicting a woman sitting at a table lit by candle reading tarot cards, her face obscured by her hair. You recognised the cards as your favourite Cozy Witch deck that you had used to read for Dieter a year ago.

“She's you,” he said from behind you. “You started me down this path, so I needed to have you be part of the collection.”

You turned to look at him, tears springing to your eyes. “It's beautiful Dieter, thank you,” you whispered, stepping forward to wrap him in a hug.

“Thank you for telling me I could do it.” He squeezed you tightly, rocking you gently from side to side, “will you come to the opening?”

You looked up at him, smiling, “If you play your cards right.”

[yomi345345345]

mr bravo

[dieterbravobrainrotclub]

Join us in a Dieter Bravo drabble challenge!

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

PROMPT: “Do you believe in aliens?”

TROPE: meet-cute

RULES:

-Fic should be 1k or less words.

-Must feature Dieter Bravo.

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

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

-Please appropriately tag any warnings when posting.

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

We look forward to seeing your creations!!

[sp00kymulderr]

Are you plagued by thoughts of this man? Do you find yourself daydreaming about bathrobes, sunglasses, crocs, rings and tattoos? Have you lost sleep thinking about every little nuance of the character?

Sounds like you've been infected with the Dieter Bravo brainrot

Don't worry, there are many more like you and we're here to make it worse support you.

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[nerdieforpedro]

A Poor Plan to Confess

Dieter Bravo x plus size female reader (Moon Pie)

This is fic is for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: about 2.1k

Warnings: Dieter being a bit rude, porn use, mention of masturbation, teasing, improper toy use?, very bad communication, some mentions of sexual activities and acts, Nerdie is unsure of what she wrote

Summary: Dieter is doing his best to stay sober. You have a large part in his plans. They aren’t well thought out.

Notes: Written for the Dieter Bravo Brain Rot Server Challenge. @wannab-urs brought me back to Dieter, originally I didn’t have any ideas for this and then boom! 🤯 I had a few. Thanks to @missladym1981 for beta reading for me. 😘

Main Masterlist / Dieter Bravo Masterlist

A joke between old friends. Dieter was doing well. Three years sober, well from the harder drugs. He still had the occasional joint and alcohol. You weren’t really into the weed, thought it stunk to high heaven. Dieter always managed to find some really fragrant strains though, smelled like incense. Type you would burn laying on a chase couch in a fancy silk robe. Maybe smoke one of those long cigarettes except it had bubbles coming out of it. Dieter bought you one and told you to make bubbles come out of it over FaceTime.

The two of you have many silly jokes over the years. Some about video games, some about animals, some about his job and yours. He never wanted to hear about relationships and didn’t mention any of his to you. You asked why one day because friends normally at least mention if they’re dating someone or not and Dieter flat out told you, “I don’t need to have the image of you fucking somebody in my head.” Had you not been as secure as you were, you’d take offense, but you left it alone, keeping it in the back of your mind.

One thing Bravo hadn’t joked about thankfully was his sobriety, finally taking it seriously. He told you that if he ever called you mentioning coke or pills to lock him up and prevent him from calling anyone for the drugs. This was another joke. He even bought you handcuffs, zip ties and some bondage tape. His assistant dropped it off with a quizzical look on their face. You smiled and put them in your office. You knew why they had that look, you two as just friends and Dieter’s never given you anything like that before. Like an idiot, you googled how to use the zip ties and tape, ending up on Pornhub and unaware that someone was banging on your door.

When the next pop-up blocked your screen again, that was when you heard, “Hey! You alive in there?! Open the hell up! What kind of friend are you?” Running downstairs, you open up the door recognizing the voice, Dieter’s at your door. It’s 11:30 at night. He stares at you and you wonder why. Ah…I’m in my nightgown. My pink satin one to match the handcuff fuzz. I don’t think I washed my hands, and they smell like…fuck.

You now know why.

“Moon Pie, you got someone up in here? Didn’t know you had someone. I need your help your help though, just a room.” He pleads at your doorstep, before you can answer, whatever ad has finished and there’s loud moaning from the video you had been watching. His eyes cut upward to where the noise is coming from. “Or maybe not. I didn’t think you watched porn.”

Putting your hands on your hips, “Anyone can watch porn Dieter. Am I not allowed according to some weird ass rule you have? I have sex sometimes too!” His eyes went wide as you stepped aside letting him in and he raised his hands to signal defeat, though he did laugh when you said the word sex.

“You can’t even say fuck Moon Pie. Listen, let’s not talk about that. I need you to keep me here. I’m feeling like I may need to make a bad call. I did give my assistant my phone, but I don’t want to chance it. You still got that box?” He pays your shoulder, plopping down on the couch.

“Go find your silly box yourself Dieter. I’m going back upstairs.” Waving your hands, you start upstairs, making it up three stairs before some slaps are heard from your laptop in your room. You really need to turn that off.

“To finish your porn instead of helping your friend?” He popped up met you at the bottom of the stairs, “Come on! You still have the tools, right?” His hands ran up your arms. This man. Despite showing up unannounced, late, interrupting some ‘me time’ and requesting he use tools you don’t know how to use save for the handcuffs, you’d still help him out. Even if he could be troublesome and rude at times, he always supported you in work endeavors and listened to you talk way too much about Final Fantasy games. He blames you for knowing about crystals and different jobs like paladin and black mage.

You didn’t answer him and walked upstairs to your room, to turn the porn off but the screen was frozen, playing the same moan ever and over. The image had a man zip tied to a pole while standing as a woman sucked him off. They both were letting out a combined moan. Swallowing hard, Dieter watched you switch your weight between your large hips, he removed his robe and brown t-shirt leaving himself in his brown pajama pants and removing his gray socks. “Moon Pie. Have you ever done that sort of thing? I doubt it.” His voice snapped you after your haze, turning to look at him, confusion dots your face.

“Why did you remove your shirt? I just need to tie you up and prevent you from leaving right? Put your shirt back on Dee.” His chest only has a small splattering of dark hair on his golden skin. He lays across your bed grinning. “Wait how long am I supposed to keep you here? You’re not getting me arrested.”

“I was hot and until I don’t feel like using. Where’s the box?”

“Stay there, it’s in my office.” You’re back momentarily with the fabled box and open it, taking out the handcuffs, zip ties and tape. “Here which do you want me to use? I’m tired.” Dropping the box on the bed, he frowns, you’re not playing along, you see annoyed. Shouldn’t you be happy he’s across your bed? Dieter is, why aren’t you?

You are tired sure, but you’re hornier and more aware that Dieter is not going to want anything to do with relieving any frustration you have. Holding your hands palms out, “Just tell me what you want me tie you up with so I can set up the guest room.”

“Hey, why are you pissed at me? I’m not leaving until you help me, you said you would.” Dieter scoots to the edge of the bed and leans on his elbows. “Are you really that mad I stopped you from finishing your porn? You don’t need it.” He picks up the handcuffs out of the box and studies the pink fuzz. It looks about the same shade as your nightgown. Moon Pie hasn’t used these has she? No, they don’t look used. I think. These are mine, I bought them for her to use with me. She shouldn’t be watching porn. I need to be the toy.

“Damn it Dieter! I’m not just your friend, I’m a woman who has needs no matter if you wanna think about it or not! Fuck you!” Charging at him, you grab his shoulders and knock him back on the bed, pinning him to bed. He slaps the handcuffs on your wrist and his. “What the hell?! They’re only supposed to go on you not me!”

Bravo licks his lips and turns his head to the side to kiss your hand after pulling his wrist to his mouth. “Oh, I’ve always liked the idea of you in handcuffs. You should fuck me Moon Pie.” His curved nose inches closer to your hand and sniffs it. He has your scent now, sticking one of your fingers into his mouth and pulling it back out.

The sensation from his lips went straight to your cunt and you stifled a moan. He will not have his way; you can ensure even if you’re handcuffed to him. “You said you couldn’t picture me fucking Dee? Are you looking for that much of a distraction?” You moved to sit beside him on the bed, but he pulled you back on top, his free hand roaming freely over your love handles. “Dee, I’m not just going to be used for you staying sober.”

Leaning forward, his face connected with your neck, licking it, “I’ve been using you to stay sober since I finish rehab three years ago. I knew if I went back, it would disappoint the hell out of you.” His teeth bit into your neck and a whimper escaped, small but it was enough to encourage him. “I didn’t want to think of someone fucking you other than me. I’m sure you have; they’re flies drawn to honey.” His hand ran from your rolls to your ass squeezing it. “If I’m going to stay sober for you, I should have you, shouldn’t I?” Rolling his hips up into yours, he licks the bite and lets go of your ass slapping it.

Dropping your hips, you press right into his clothed bulge, feeling it throb against your bare cunt. “You’re insane Dieter, how does that make any sense….?” Unfortunately, he’s making it so much worse, your nipples are visible through your nightgown, erect as you leak onto his pants from your core. “This is only because you stopped me earlier with your stupid request.”

“Whatever you want to tell yourself Moon Pie. Only I’m going to see you like this from now on, right?” The pads of his fingers trail up your spine and pull down one of the straps of your nightgown letting a breast become fully exposed. He licks it before blowing on it, eliciting another whimper. “Tell me I’ll be the only one. I’ll take the handcuffs off and make sure you come. Don’t be difficult tonight. Not when I need you.” He doesn’t wait for your answer before taking it in his mouth, and sitting up, pulling you into his lap. Instinctively, both of your hands grab his head, pulling his one hand back. He disconnects from your nipple to yelp from his shoulder suddenly going back.

You grin and try to reach for the key that’s in the box since he’s distracted, but Dieter gets on his knees and pulls on his wrist, having your arm come back toward him and making you fall face first into the bed. “Dieter let me get the key, then I can lock you in another room. Clearly you need to be.” His fingers trace your thighs but don’t go any higher, sighing, he lays down next to you.

“You seriously don’t want to have sex with me? Even after I tell you I want you to be my only one? So cold to me.” He pouts. This man is seriously pouting after he’s teased you? He doesn’t move as you get the key and unlock yourself. You consider handcuffing both of his hands but release him as well. Moving to the edge of the bed, you stand and turn off your laptop then return to sit on the bed.

“You’ve got to do better than trying to guilt me into it. You’re horrible at this.” You laugh as does he. If it had been anyone else, you’d never speak to them again at minimum, Dieter rolls on his side and kisses your thigh.

“We’ve been friends how long? You know I’m shit at this. I feel like I should ask, you’re not going to have me arrested for this are you?” You poke the scruff on his cheek.

“No, though I should. You’re insane Dieter Bravo. We’ll sleep on it.” You lay back and scoot up to the head of the bed, closing your eyes.

“Did you want to finish your porn? Or make our own? It will be Moon Pie’s debut!”” Slinks up the bed and lays his head on your chest, kissing your collar bone.

“You’re a dumbass Dieter. I would tie you up but you’d like it too much. Go to sleep.” Placing your fingers in his hair to scratch his scalp makes him purr, wrapping a leg around one of yours.

“Keep scratching my head like that and we won’t be sleeping at all you cheeky Moon Pie. I’ll be under that gown soon.” His face found its way back to your neck, licking the teeth marks he made earlier. Letting out a soft groan, you pull on Dieter’s hair, so he pulls his head back. “Jokes on you, I enjoy my hair being pulled. Manipulate me more.” His grin is criminal, he should be arrested for that if anything.

It wasn’t even two hours before Dieter had your legs up around his waist. He’s temperamental and a horrible communicator but damn if he didn’t have you call him an Oscar winner while he rutted into you from behind giving you your third orgasm before one in the morning.

Trash Panda Pals 🦝: @katw474 @readingiskeepingmegoing @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @megamindsecretlair @pamasaur @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @sp00kymulderr @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @titlee78 @tinytinymenace @magpiepillsjunior @soft-girl-musings @morallyinept @rhoorl @wannab-urs @survivingandenduring @missladym1981 @yorksgirl @pedroshotwifey @heareball

[covetyou]

seeded

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

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

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

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

"Do you believe in aliens?"

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

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

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

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

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

"No," he says quickly.

"You're a shit liar, Dee."

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

Oh no. No. Not this again.

"Dieter."

"Do you think I could be-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You promise? You'd help?"

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

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

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

"Hey, Dee?"

"Yeah?"

"Want me to get you a pregnancy test?"