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sanjifucker42069 · 5 months

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Sanji x Reader drabble

Word count: 1.5k

I am so in love with this man. I have so many feelings about Sanji, about his past, about him hiding his anxiety. And yeah this is based on a scene from Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries lol.

Sanji sees someone associated with his past, you calm him down. (Mild comfort, fluff, pre-timeskip, pre-relationship, no one is aware Sanji's a Vinsmoke by birth yet. Gender neutral reader)

It was a lazy day, the kind that makes Sanji's face stretch into a languid catlike grin. There were no pressing issues, no captain getting into the worst trouble imaginable, no swordsman annoying the shit out of him. Life was good. To top it all off, here he was, enjoying a drink in a small island pub with his favourite straw hat.

Life was so good.

You had chuckled when he'd offered to buy you a drink as a thank you for joining him today. The sound was like wedding bells to him; loud, low, and one that made his heart race. He'd beamed at you when you'd agreed, pulling you into the nearby bar.

The two of you had been chatting for hours, beyond comfortable with each other. It had been so good to be away from the others, just having your complete undivided attention. And soon enough, the sun was setting, the two of you too wrapped up in having fun to even notice.

You sighed. “I suppose it's time we got back, last thing we need is a search party looking for us.”

It was regrettable, but Sanji agreed. He'd s get the walk back with you, so win-win, really. With a flourish that made you smile, Sanji offered his hand, gently helping you out of the booth.

Life was good.

Or it would have been, had Sanji not seen it. A man. No, not just a man.

A Germa66 soldier

His blood ran cold. It couldn't be like this. No one knew his true lineage, and he was not about to ruin his whole life by telling you all! No. He couldn't let you know. Sanji could practically see how hurt you'd be, how he'd lied to you by omission.

He'd finally gotten another family, he was not going to let some random soldier ruin it!

And besides, what was someone from Germa even doing here!? The implications made anxiety try to claw its way out of Sanji's chest.

You, unbeknownst to Sanji, were studying him. One second the two of you were giggling like lovestruck teenagers, the next he was frozen, eyes trained across the bar.

“Ji? You okay?”

Nothing. Sanji was still.

“Sanji!” You clicked your fingers in front of him. “Eyes on me. Nothing to worry about, ‘kay?”

The cook didn't move, still staring at the man across the room with palpable fear. You could practically taste the anxiety rolling off him in waves.

“Just…someone from my past.” He managed to breathe out.

“And you're safe. Eyes on me. If you keep looking at him he's going to see you. Look at me.”

His shaking eyes regarded you for a second before wandering back to the soldier. You had no idea where they were from, or how they knew Sanji, but right now you didn't care. Based on how badly he was trying to cover up his fear, you were certain this was big.

He didn't budge when you tried to direct him to you.

“Sanji!” You bit as quietly as you could.

Sanji looked so scared, so helpless. It hurt your heart. Running out of ideas you cringed. You had one, but it wasn't exactly the best. But Sanji needed his crew right now. He needed someone to ground him.

With a speed you didn't often muster, you forced the tall man to look at you, hand cradling his chin. The fear was still apparent in his eyes, but ever the agreeable boy he stared in your eyes. You felt him startle when you wrapped your free arm around his neck.

A small apology left your lips.

Before he could turn his attention back to panicking you pulled him down to meet you, kissing him softly. Using Sanji's shock to your advantage you spun the two of you so you could keep an eye on the man that had your friend so desperately afraid.

Sanji gasped into the kiss, and for a moment you were worried he was going to push you back. His hands were thrust towards you, palms splayed. You braced yourself for the impact.

But it never came.

Instead you felt his strong arms encircle your waist, one travelling to clutch at your back, the other snaking to hold you closer against him. Sanji melted against your lips, a small noise of appreciation slipping out.

Shit, he was a really good kisser. You fought the urge to close your eyes, to just give in and kiss the man silly, but you had a job to do. It felt wrong to kiss Sanji with your eyes open, but you trained your eyes on the man he was scared of. The soldier was exiting the pub with a beautiful woman, him eagerly leading her by the hand while she giggled.

Once they had left and the coast was clear you began to relax. You'd love to say you did the right thing and gently pulled back, but you didn't. Your eyes slipped closed as you kissed him with a passion that scared you, after all, when would you get another opportunity to kiss the man? Sanji clearly wasn't expecting it, if the cute little noise he made was anything to go off. You relished the feeling of his lips against yours. They weren't chapped, which surprised you, both living on the sea. But, you supposed, if anyone was going to take care to make sure his lips were soft and kissable, it'd be Sanji.

You wish you could convey all your thoughts and feelings in the kiss; you're safe, you're loved, I'll follow you wherever.

I love you.

Regretfully you pulled back, both for air and out of guilt, you'd certainly taken advantage of the situation. Sanji chased your lips for a second before coming to and straightening. His beautiful eyes on yours in a moment, you watched him sigh, a more relaxed air about him. His eyes swept across the pub floor, anxiety rising when he couldn't find the soldier. You grabbed one of his hands, rubbing soothing circles into the top of his palm. Sanji's eyes snapped down to yours.

“He's gone.” You smiled warmly up at him. Sanji looked dazed, making you smile stretch to a grin. “He left about two minutes ago. It's okay Ji.”

Sanji wanted to say a thousand things, to thank you, to sing you praises, to cry and hold you close, thankful of your protection. Instead all he managed out was;

“You kissed me.”

You felt a light blush stain your cheeks, pointedly looking away from him. Sanji wanted to scoop you up and kiss you silly, you looked so cute when bashful.

“I needed to distract you, you were panicking.” You pouted dropping his hand, with narrowed eyes you snapped your gaze back to him. “Besides, you kissed me back.”

Staring up at Sanji took your breath away, he was regarding you with such genuine warmth. The intensity of his stare made you uncomfortable, and you made a move to excuse yourself. Sanji gently scooped your hand up, and held it against his chest between his hands. You blushed, looking up at him completely dazed.

“Love.” He paused. “(Name), I- thank you. You're so good to me.” Another pause, before he hammed it up. “And to experience a kiss from such a beauty? You're truly an angel fell from the heavens.”

He shot you such a cheeky smirk, his eyes sparkling, but you knew better. Sanji was a sweetheart, and yeah he could be a pervert, and a ladies’ man, and just a tad overdramatic, but he definitely played it up to protect himself. The feelings were hanging in the air unspoken; love, dedication, thankfulness. But it wasn't the time for that, neither of you wanted to have your hearts broken, brave on the battlefield does not always mean brave in love. But still, that stupid charming grin had you, hook, line, and sinker.

“Well my dear, if you ever need to distract me again...” He relished the laugh that escaped you. You pat his chest and moved your hand to delicately cradle his cheek.

“I'll make sure to keep that in mind. You might wanna watch yourself though, or you'll never pry me off you.”

Sanji chuckled, lovestruck. “Oh no, what a shame! You know I'm feeling kinda-”

You lightly swatted him on the cheek before he could finish, flustered but on cloud nine. “Alright loverboy, c'mon.”

“One more kiss?” He pouted, that boyish charm captivating you. He grinned when you pulled him down for a kiss.

You had aimed for a quick peck, but Sanji held you in place, peppering you in kisses as you giggled. He placed a last kiss on your lips, melting as you crushed him against you and kissed back with fervor. You pulled back with an audible smack.

“Wow.” He whispered, relishing in the love in your eyes.

“Now, c'mon, for real this time, handsome.”

You two didn't need to audibly say it right now, it was obvious you to regarded each other highly. The right day would come.

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #drabbles #i just love him so much man #i can imagine him inwardly freaking tf out at the idea of his crew finding out and hating him #ji doesnt wanna lose another family ;-;#n e way.... i love sanji #i have a lotta emotions about sanji #like girl....he wants everyone to be happy and he hides so mucb and i love him #once again im half asleep so this might be trash lololol i just wanna kiss him silly

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wardenparker · 2 years

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You’re So Vain - Epilogue

Dieter Bravo x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Oscar winning star Dieter Bravo’s reputation is suffering after the debacle of “Cliff Beasts 6″ and “Beasts of the Bubble”, so his management team has signed him on to a publicity stunt to find his soulmate and show the world a softer side of the erratic and unpredictable star. The plan quickly go awry, though, when Dieter’s soulmate wants nothing to do with him.

Rating: Explicit, but like... lightly. Always 18+ Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: *Blanket warning for chronic illness, cursing, and deceased family members. This is a Dieter fic, folks, so there absolutely will be discussions of drugs, drug use, and addiction.* Fluff, love, lots and lots of kissing, pregnancy, fingering, allusions to sex Summary: Life with Dieter is never without twists and turns, but these days it seems like all the bumps in the road have been leading you toward the very best destinations. Notes: This is it, guys. The whole thing has been quite an unpredictable journey in some ways, and a beautifully soft place to land in others. We hope you’ve enjoyed the ride and that you’ll join us for the premiere of Sassenach and the Spaniard next week!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15

“It is a gorgeous, balmy California night and the red carpet is packed with hopeful nominees, eager for their names to be called.” The ET reporter announces as both you and Dieter stand next to her. His hand is around your waist, trying to comfort and steady you as the two of you wait for the inevitable questions. The first of many reporters to greet and speak to as you make your way down the path to the building. Cameras flash and he knows there are hundreds of eyes on the two of you. “I’m here now with one such hopeful, Dieter Bravo. The nominated actor believes that his soulmate is the reason for his performance, is that what I’m understanding?” She asks, turning the microphone towards Dieter, who flashes her a megawatt smile.

“Absolutely.” He nods and turns an adoring gaze on you. “Everyone knows that I have had…issues, very public ones.” He gives a self-deprecating chuckle. “Cliff Beasts 6, what can I say?” The reporter laughs and he continues on. “But after meeting my soulmate and our journey to finding love together, it was woven into the fabric of Reflections of a Man and I believe that you can see it on screen.”

“He’s being modest.” You insist, standing beside him in the floral satin ballgown that is far more comfortable than the stiff organza monstrosity that some designer thought would be an artistic choice for the Golden Globes. This one is classic and soft, and miraculously – comfortable. You might even ask to keep it. “I painted some pictures. He brought an entire story to life.” You can feel the heat in your cheeks, though, with that look of adoration on his face. “I do have to agree that filming this picture meant the world to us, though. It truly brought us together.”

“It did.” He will wholeheartedly agree to that, tugging you a little closer to him and unable to resist kissing your cheek. “Me falling in love is reflected on my character’s reignited love for his wife and himself.”

“Well, it sounds like a very emotional journey.” The reporter looks suitably moved as she smiles at both of you before focusing on Dieter. “The Golden Globe was well earned. Are you hoping for a repeat win tonight?”

“Well, I know that I’m up against some very stiff competition.” Dieter says with a humble shrug. “I am honored to be nominated again, but I can hope that if I don’t win, that the Best Actor knows that he has a hard-won victory.”

Humility may not have been Dee’s trademark in his former life, but over the past year it’s been a beautiful progression to watch his inner self become outer. His fans have gotten to see a whole new side of him and nearly two years of sobriety is treating him extremely well. Even if he does still deal with cravings, he normally just has a cigarette and meditates now. But of course, he still contends that the endorphin rush from sex is better than anything he could take anyway. “It’s certainly a tough call this year,” the reporter flashes a charming smile. “But I’d give you my vote if I had one.”

“Well, thank you.” Dieter winks at her. “That’s all that matters. But your lips to the committee’s ears.” He guides you away so the two of you don’t hold up the line.

“Five minutes in and you’re already a hit.” You lean into him a little, careful not to mess up your makeup or either of your outfits. “Even if you don’t win, baby, it’s still going to be a good night.” Despite sounding cautious, there is not a single doubt in your mind that he will walk away with his second Oscar tonight. Maybe even two in one go, if the film wins Best Picture, which all the projections say it will.

“I hope so.” He’s nervous for this, not for him, but he wants this for the movie and honestly – for you. He wants to win this for you. “Although I know you are looking forward to the swag bags and the after parties.” He teases playfully.

“That bag was insane!” The so called ‘swag bag’ that he had been given at his movie premiere party had been full of things like certificates for facials and salon treatments usually costing hundreds of dollars, high end specialty skin products, exclusive cosmetics, and even jewelry. “I’m almost afraid of what’s going to end up in the one you get tonight.”

“Remember this time that you get your own bags.” He chuckles, remembering that you were so worried about taking one that you had refused. Of course everything in his was yours.

“Still feels weird,” you murmur, remembering not to shrug because it will look awkward in a photo and right now you exist to be photographed. Instead, you give him a dazzling grin and a wink. “I’m just the arm candy. You’re the big, fancy Hollywood star.”

“Yes, you are supposed to be gazing at me in adoration and worshipping my talent.” He jokes.

Unable to resist the tease, you lean in to press a kiss to his cheek and linger to whisper in his ear. “I’ll worship your massive talent later, baby. I promise.”

“Fuck.” He hisses, tightening his hold on you. “Do you want me to be pictured with a boner on the red carpet?”

“My dress is big enough to hide it.” You can’t help but giggle, taking the chance to steal a quick kiss that you’re sure to find a picture of on the Internet somewhere tomorrow. “Come on baby, lots more interviews and lots more smiles to go.”

“Of course, baby.” Dieter grins and sends you a small wink. “It would be a shame not to show off this gorgeous dress and the woman in it.”

It takes a little while to make your way inside, but when you eventually make it past the last microphone and the last “Who are you wearing?” and the last snapping camera shutter, you both breathe a sigh of relief. Your hand has been tangled in his for at least the last twenty minutes and as the two of you file into the theater side by side, you start looking around for the seats with his name on them.

The awards show is always nerve wracking. Listening to the written jokes and some of the ones that fly off the cuff. He sighs as he looks around and picks up his water glass again. “I’m going to save my drinking for the after parties.”

“Celebratory drinking.” Your nod has absolute conviction to it, sure that he’s going to win tonight. “Which parties did you decide on?” There are so many, and plenty of exclusive ones - some that only last a few hours and others that go until dawn. You’ve already contacted a sub for tomorrow so you won’t have to reach hungover on two hours of sleep, so you’re planning on enjoying yourself.

“Vanity Fair for sure.” He hums, reaching over and stroking your arm. “But I wanted you to pick the other parties. We can hit them all up if you want.”

"All is a lot of parties." Even with it being your first awards season, you're not sure that you're up for that much partying. Although you do have a pair of flats stashed in the limo with your after-party dress so that you're not dancing on stilettos. Experience has taught you not to do that. "I dunno…I’ve always wanted to meet Elton John…any chance you got an invite to his party?” It’s all still a little fantastical and absurd to you, all the celebrities and big parties and everything. But this is his world.

“Oh yeah.” He nods and grins at you. “We can go around to that one for sure.” He hadn’t mentioned that he had made sure that Elton invited him, knowing you would love it. “Did a movie with him a few years ago.”

“Can’t believe I didn’t do this with you last year.” Sighing softly, you squeeze him hand as you settle into your seats in the third row along with the rest of his cast mates from this particular film. Last year he hadn’t been nominated and you had been hesitant to venture out into the red carpet, so he had willingly gone solo. But this year? This year there were offers to dress you and extra modeling contracts on Libby’s desk. This year you have a much better handle on how to be a Hollywood soulmate. “We’ll have all the fun we can stand tonight, and then sleep late tomorrow.”

“Come on….” he pouts at you. “I came home right after it was over, and you were grinning like a loon.”

"Cause I got to watch my boyfriend on tv." That same grin spreads on your face now, and you bite your lip to keep from giggling. "I'm so proud of you, Dee. Really and truly."

“I know.” He rolls his eyes, even as he’s starting to blush. “You love telling people that you are Dieter Bravo’s soulmate.” It was a far cry from two years ago and he loves it.

"Yes, I do." And not even in the bragging way that most people would expect. No – it's about being proud of the man he's worked so hard to become, and loving the way he has embraced his beautifully extended family. When Rico had moved in with Steph and Nora last summer, he had been right there helping them unpack and get settled. "And admit it. You love having a fuss made over you."

“I do.” He huffs, rolling his eyes playfully. “It’s why I became an actor.” He pointed to himself. “Hello? Vain….”

"You pretend to be." That's something that you learned about him very quickly once you started paying attention. And it's reason enough to lean across the arm of your chair and kiss him. "But you're just a big softie with subby tendencies and a praise kink."

“You like my subby tendencies.” He reminds you, pulling you back for another kiss. He had discovered you love when he’s needy and whining for you. Apparently amazed that he could only want you after so many years of doing whatever or whoever he wanted.

"They're fun." You don't mind admitting that one bit, and the grin riding across your face is a very palpable promise that he'll be whimpering and begging later on tonight. A moment later the lights in the theater dim twice, alerting everyone milling around that they need to get settled in their seats for the evening to begin. "Kiss for luck." You declare, stealing a hard press from his lips before sitting back again, even though you know you'll be giving him plenty throughout the night.

******

Dieter has to wait for a while for his categories to come up. Paying attention is hard, but there are cameras everywhere and he spends a lot of the time leaning over and murmuring to you at your table. He’s nervous and when he finally hears the announcement that they will be presenting the nominees for Best Actor, he straightens up.

"You got this baby." Holding on tight to his hand, you both watch with bated breath as names are announced and clips from films are played. When Dieter's name is read for Reflections of a Man, the montage of moments from the movie they've chosen includes a long shot of him 'painting' one of the portraits you did for the set, and he squeezes your hand tightly. It's overwhelming in the very best way, watching something you did together – even just a small amount done together – become something so big and important for him makes your heart feel like it's going to burst out of your chest.

He wonders briefly if it's coincidental or careful planning that Howie is presenting this award this year along with Carol. He's notices since the disaster that was supposed to be Cliff Beasts 6 that award programmers and tv hosts love to pair the cast together. Those thoughts flash through his head, trying to keep his mind off the nerves and the sudden flash of 'no way you are going to win, you don't deserve it' that flashes intrusively through his brain. "And the winner for Best Actor is..." Carol calls into the microphone while Howie opens the envelope. Flashing a disappointed eye roll as only Howie can, he calls out. "DIETER BRAVO for Reflections of a Man! I told you my boy was going to win!"

The sound that bubbles out of you is something like a gasp and a squeak all at once, and your hand that has been holding tightly to Dieter’s ever since they announced his category squeezes with giddy excitement. “You did it! Oh my god! I’m so proud of you, Dee!” Throwing your arms around him as quickly as you can is like a dream, and there are definitely three cameras catching the congratulatory kiss that you press to his lips before he stands but the soft “I love you” is just for him. His second Oscar – for the movie that brought you together – you could honestly burst from being so happy for him and the tears in your eyes are proof of it.

Making his way to the stage, Dieter accepts congratulations and handshakes of those that are along the way. Nervous again as he races through the speech he’s worked on in secret. Carol’s face is stiff – not the obvious Botox she’s had done, but jealousy – as she hands Dieter the golden statue. Howie slaps him on the back and gives a loud yell that makes the crowd laugh as they back off the stage to let Dieter stand their alone. “Wow— I, uh, I’m really humbled that I won. The competition was stiff this year.” He says in acknowledgement to the other nominees who are no doubt disappointed.

His costars have gathered in tight around you like they did for the dates of all the other nominees from this film, everyone connected as you watch him on stage like you did the other winners. But for you, at least, no one else in the world exists. The hands reaching out to you in shared joy are barely even there, all you can see is Dee up on that stage.

Dieter names the studio, production company, the director and the cast and crew in his thank you speech, not wanting to leave anyone out. The red light flashes, indicating they want him to stop talking, apparently his time is up but he’s not done yet. “And most importantly, I’d like to thank my soulmate.” He announces your name loud and clear.

Half the cameras in the front of the theater shift their focus to you now, and you feel like you’re practically radiating happiness from your seat.

“They want to pull me off stage, but they aren’t, because this is worth it.” He tells the audience with a wink. He sets the Oscar on the podium and reaches into his pocket. “Everyone knows that we started off rocky. ‘F You, Bravo!’ was the best meme two years ago.” The crowd laughs and he shrugs. “I deserved it, and honestly, it was funny as hell.”

What is he doing? Your brow furrows slightly but not for long, as you join in on the smattering of laughter and shake your head. There are cameras still trained on you and he’s up on that stage looking so fucking handsome that you can’t resist blowing him a kiss. He’s looking right at you and there’s no reason not to enjoy this gorgeous moment

“It just shows how far we’ve come.” Dieter continues, grinning at you and ignoring the light blinking again. They want to cut to commercial, but he’s not going to let them. “This movie, this performance was a part of that journey.” He tells the world. “I fell in love with her during this production. Knew that the universe had finally gotten something right for me.” He takes a deep breath and pulls his hand out of his pocket, pulling out the box he had been hiding for months. “So it’s only fitting that tonight, the world witnesses the results of that. Instead of extolling my own virtues, which are few, I’m going to ask a question.”

Oh my god… One of the cameras on you has to have gotten a good shot of you sitting up straight in your seat with your eyes blowing wide, but all you can do right now is focus on Dee and the way your heart is hammering in your chest. The blood pounding in your ears is so loud that you’re grateful he’s on a microphone otherwise you might not even be able to hear him over the noise. What did he pull out of his jacket?

“I thought when we were shooting the film that I might need to pick out a ring, so I started shopping. I found this.” He reveals the ring box in his hand and enjoys the way that the red light has completely disappeared, the camera zooming in on the box on the monitor display in the back. “I bought it the day after my soulmate left to go home, and I’ve kept it in my pocket every day since then. Until tonight.”

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. The gasp you let out is audible – proven by the few people around you who turn to look at you – and you cover your mouth with one hand to stifle the way you just want to scream Yes! across the rows separating you. He bought the ring the day after you left…after the ET interview…Holy shit…

“Baby, I love you so much.” Dieter declares, his eyes shining suspiciously bright. “I don’t want to go another minute without doing this. It will be even better than winning this award.” He opens the ring box so that everyone watching and says your name, his voice wavering slightly. “Will you marry me?”

Your ecstatic “Yes!” is almost entirely drowned out by your own tears along with the cheers and applause coming from every corner of the theater. The sea of people parts for you to leave your seat, almost paving a path to the stage like Cinderella rushing toward the ball to meet her prince. The ballgown you’re wearing only adds to the effect, though you fortunately manage to not trip, and Dieter is right there at the edge of the stage to meet you. “I love you.” The words have never come as easily as they do right now – falling into his arms with the entire world watching.

Dieter flashes a smile that can’t be beat, overwhelmed that he had gotten the answer he wants. “I love you too.” Dragging you into his arms, he kisses you in front of all of his peers and the world at home.

“Are you kidding me?” Carol Cobb’s groan of frustration can be heard from a few feet away, but you pay her absolutely no mind. All of your focus is on your soulmate and the glittering diamonds he’s slipping onto your finger. “It’s huge,” you laugh, hiccupping slightly through the happy tears before you kiss him again.

“That’s what you always say.” Dieter jokes, unable to resist the dirty response, but his lips are tender when he kisses you once more before the cameras finally cut off as the broadcast goes to commercial. “I love you so much.” He whispers.

“I love you, too.” The joke just makes you giggle and shake your head at him as Howie ushers the two of you backstage. There are photo ops for Dieter now and a few congratulatory hugs to be shared with other winners, but the event’s crew will make sure that you’ve both moved through and are sitting back in your seats before the end of the commercial break. Best Picture is up next, and Dieter needs to be ready to hop back up on stage, just in case. You hold tightly to his hand as you go, pausing before you’re ushered out of backstage to kiss him again. “You just had to show off,” you tease, giggling and tearing up again. “Every Oscars retrospective and highlights reel until the end of Hollywood will include that proposal.” He’s such a ham, and you really do love him for it – for being unafraid to shout it from the rooftops that he loves you.

“Absolutely.” Beaming, he leans in and kisses you softly. “You are now a part of the Academy Awards history.” He teases. “It’s a good damn thing you look so gorgeous tonight.” He had made sure that your designer had dressed you in something breathtaking. He had wanted this to happen, either on stage or right after the awards if he didn’t win.

“Suddenly I understand why you were so involved in picking my dress.” Your fingers tangle in his as you follow the directions from the stagehands trying firmly but politely to nudge you back to your seats. “Did anyone else know you were going to do this?” You wonder if he trusted anyone with the secret – figuring that Steph and Rico would spill the beans out of sheer excitement.

“No.” He shakes his head with a grin as he helps you settle back into your chair. “I didn’t know if I would win. If I didn’t, I was going to ask you during the after party.”

“In that case I’m predicting about seventy-five missed calls and texts from Steph and Rico when we get back to our seats.” Obviously your phones are off, but the sheer volume of freak out messages you’re going to have from your best friend will be phenomenal. “Come on, baby. You’ve got one more win to take home tonight and then we can go celebrate.”

“We’ll see.” Dieter honestly doesn’t care if the picture wins now. He does, but he honestly is too busy floating on air with happiness at his ring sitting on your finger.

"Either way, I think I got the best prize tonight." You raise your twined hands to wiggle your fingers, making the beautifully cut ring sparkle in the low light as you slip back into your seats. Once you're settled again, you give him a teasing grin. "Not just anybody gets a fiancé to go with their gift bag."

"I knew you would like that proposal." In a sense, it was an apology. He's caused you plenty of embarrassment, some even before you had met, with his public antics over the years. Now, in public, he was proclaiming that he was whipped and that he was trying to be a better man and you were a vital piece of that. "But that means that I get engagement sex and Oscar winning sex tonight."

You practically snort, just managing to smother the sound behind your hand as you laugh with him. "Absolutely, baby." You promise easily. "Any kind you want."

His eyes light up and he immediately starts thinking about all the kinky things that the two of you can do tonight. The awards ceremony is now the last thing on his mind.

"Limo?" Only mouthing the word at him as the lights turn all the way down again and the music swells around you, you shoot him an excited grin. The car that Libby got for you tonight is a stretch limousine – lots of room to play.

He bites his lip and nods, smirking as he imagines tossing up your skirt and burying his face in your cunt before you reach the Vanity Fair party.

It takes all your concentration to face forward again, squeezing his hand easily in yours as the next presenter takes the stage. One more award, a little mingling, and you'll be back in that car in no time.

The screen starts to play with all of the shorts of the films that have been nominated for Best Picture category, Dieter closing his eyes on Reflections of a Man as he visualizes them. He still doesn't watch his own movies, after all. Only opening them when he hears the clapping.

When his film is announced as the winner the entire theater goes up in a roar of applause. The whole group of you was practically clutching each other while the nominees played and now it's like you've all taken a collective breath together. You manage to steal a kiss in the uproar, clinging to him and nearly collapsing into giddy, proud giggles all over again as he's swept up by the cast and production crew to accept their awards onstage.

Dieter doesn’t speak this time, the director taking the lead and speaking for all of them, but he winks at you. Grinning widely and on top of the world. Tonight is perfect, not only did he win another two Oscars – proving the first one wasn’t a fluke – but you agreed to marry him.

******

There is something to be said for a room painted stark white and just waiting to be turned into a canvas for pure imagination. Some smaller sections of the wall have designs outlined in pencil – base sketches to be followed or adjusted as you paint – while the larger parts are blank and waiting for inspiration to strike. The empty bedroom has two long tables set up with every paint, brush, and tool that you and Dieter could think of and one smaller one set up with all-important snacks. The Bluetooth speakers that he had built into the corners of the room softly spill a playlist into the air that you spent all morning working on, waiting for him to be done with the read through for his next film.

He should be home any minute. The minute hand on your watch reads twenty-five minutes past two in the afternoon and the sun coming through the windows is bright without the obstruction of curtains. Plenty of light to paint by, you think to yourself happily, adjusting a pencil line in the sketch nearest to you on the wall. Plenty of light to paint by as soon as you have a snack – which is basically your main pastime right now. Snacks are a way of life when you're carrying two enormous babies at once, and those snacks are particularly weird. Today it's tuna fish salad on cinnamon raisin toast, and apparently the unborn Bravo twins are loving it.

******

Dieter shoots out of the car as soon as it stops, not even bothering to worry about anything that he had left in the car. He would get it later. “Babe! I’m home! We stopped by the store and got what you sent me.” He’s worried about you since you’ve had the positive pregnancy test. Or at least since the doctor had determined that you were carrying twins. Eager to be home with you and making sure that you have everything you need.

“I’m in the nursery!” Calling through the house at each other is not at all unusual anymore, a habit developed as you got more and more comfortable together. In the eight months since you got married, you’ve become almost blasé about it.

Dieter appears in the doorway barely a minute later with a bag from the grocery store and you nearly drop the bite of food you had in your hand to eagerly reach for the new offer. “Don’t laugh at me,” you huff, chuckling despite yourself as you give your husband a kiss. “Plantain chips and Nitro Takis.” You groan appreciatively. “I’m gonna mix these together and it’s going to be amazing. How was the read through?”

“Horrible.” Dieter rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “It’s a complete piece of shit. I don’t see how the studio gave the green light.” He admits. “Still, it’s worth it.” He had chosen the role simply for the money….and the fact that they were shooting locally, so he was going to be here. Right where he wanted to be. “I talked to the Exec Producer and they are going to try to do some re-writes.”

"I'm sorry, baby." The frown you offer him is sympathetic, even if it's made slightly comical by the way you're tearing into the bag of Takis like it's the last food on Earth. "Maybe you can talk your way into a producer credit if they take enough of your ideas. That would be neat."

“Doesn’t matter.” He grins at the way you are shoving your hand into the bag eagerly, walking over and rubbing your burgeoning belly. “How are they being for mama?” He asks, rubbing your stomach softly.

"I think we're gonna have a sibling rivalry on our hands," you admit with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. "They're very kick-y today. But less at me and more at each other, if that makes any sense." You've been living your life in maternity leggings and empire waist dresses lately and it's so damn comfortable that you may never look back, but the extremely active babies growing side by side have made today in particular a little less comfortable.

“I still can’t believe that we are having twins.” Your silicone wedding band makes him grin every time he sees the flash of purple on your hand. Unfortunately, the wedding rings he had put on your finger in a gorgeous ceremony had been one of the first casualties of your pregnancy. Your hands were swelling, and Dieter had found the perfect alternative when you had cried about not being able to wear a wedding ring. “You guys behave for your mom or we’re going to have to have a talk.” He warns, snickering when the answer is a swift kick against his hand.

"I expected it." The day the ultrasound tech had mentioned hearing two heartbeats, you had almost laughed so hard that you cried right there on the exam table. His family in Satigny had been over the moon. "But check this out." You carefully set down the snack bags that had been in your hands and wipe your fingers on a napkin before moving his hand over to the left side of your belly right in the sweet spot where your daughter has been pummeling you all day. "She started responding to being called by name." Is it probably just an amazing coincidence? Sure. But when she had kicked three separate times in response to the name you had picked out for her, you had considered it fate. "I think it means she approves." The grin you flash at him is brilliant before you look back down at your hands on your belly. "Do you approve, Madeline?"

“Fuuuuudgeeee.” Dieter is trying to cut out swearing before the kids are born, being around Nora is helping. His eyes blow as wide as his smile as he looks at you and the back down at your stomach two or three times before he bends down. “You like Madeline, sweetheart?” Dieter croons to your belly.

The determined little foot that stamps the middle of his palm seems to say yes, and you immediately have to hold back tears. “I guess it’s official.” You murmur. “Madeline Danica Bravo.”

Of course, that makes Dieter tear up himself, having bawled like a baby when you had offered for the middle name to be in honor of his sister. “Ten bucks says she’s the first born.” He jokes, his hand still rubbing your stomach and marveling over the enthusiastic karate chops against his hand.

“The only way she won’t be is if her brother pushes her out of the way.” Characterizing it as a rivalry is just to make both of you laugh – the doctor has promised that the twins’ activity was a very good sign of healthy growth.

“How is the human jungle gym feeling?” He asks, raising a brow and biting his lip. As excited as he is for the babies’ birth, he’s also feeling guilty for making you carry twins. Already promising you that if you’re done, there won’t be any more babies. He’ll go get snipped even though the thought of that made him turn green.

“Actually, I feel pretty good today.” The morning sickness has tapered off a little since your first trimester and made way for massive changes in your diet based on cravings and rejections, and having feet as big as boats to help balance the extra weight of two more growing humans inside you. “I spent most of the morning making us a playlist to paint by, then I took a little nap and went for a swim to take some of the pressure off my back. So…it’s been nice so far. Mostly I just missed you.”

“You know I could just drop out of this project.” He offers, yet again. “I know you tell me to keep working, but I can stop until later on.”

“The timing is good, though.” It’s an action film with a seven-figure salary that will finish filming just before your due date. Everything is local and he has a regular schedule. You couldn’t ask for a better circumstance. “Jordan has been great about helping me get stuff done around the house and getting me to and from the doctor. Taking a break after they’re born is going to be the big thing.”

“You just want to make sure I don’t annoy you too much.” He jokes, grinning at you. In reality, this is perfect, and he plans on making sure he’s home for the first six months at least. Maybe the first year.

“I don’t want you to go crazy being bored at home while I double in size and start nesting,” you tease, wrapping one arm around him. It’s always hard to hug him face-to-face with the twins in the way.

“Double in size.” He huffs, pouting at you, knowing you are going to be larger by the time you deliver and honestly worried for you about tripping. “You need me to rub lotion into your skin before we start painting?”

“I lotion-ed up after I got out of the pool.” A soft kiss wipes the pout right off of his face, and leaves you both smiling. “Where do you want to start? Blank spaces meant for divine inspiration, or the things we’ve sketched out?”

“Have you decided on a theme?” He asks, having been indecisive when you had presented several options. “We could recreate our favorite portraits on the walls, or do that animal motif. I just want you to love it. Nothing that will be creepy at 2AM.” He rolls his eyes.

“I like the idea of a little baby art gallery.” It gives you that same warm, fuzzy feeling that you get wherever you walk into the room and look at the detailed sketching of the way you’re going to paint each of the twins’ names over their cribs. Now that Madeline is officially approved, Madeline Danica will adorn the wall right beside Jacob Shawn.

“That’s what we will do.” Dieter grins and sends you a small wink. “Althoughhhhh.” He hums and slides behind you to press up against your ass. “I still want to paint you.”

“Is that so?” Your eyes flutter shut, relishing his big hands caressing your sides as he pushes his half-hard cock against you.

“Ummm hummmm.” He has discovered you are so sexy like this. Not that you aren’t sexy every way he’s seen you, but there’s something about you pregnant that makes him weak. Never expecting to feel this way, he’s enjoying it. He’s sketched and painted you every month of your pregnancy so far. And even scheduled one of those bougie boudoir photo shoots for next month, for his personal enjoyment. The official pregnancy photo shoot will have to be magazine friendly since Libby had already talked about getting People to do another article.

“I mean…I guess if we’re going to sketch more paintings onto the walls…you could sketch me, too.” It turns into sex every single time and you’re not at all upset about that, loving that you don’t need to worry about Dee’s attraction to you waning as your pregnancy progresses.

“We work some on the nursery and then we’ll do it.” Dieter compromises. “I know you’ve been looking forward to this. Have you settled on a background paint color?”

“I walked around the hardware store yesterday with the two paint chips we narrowed it down to.” Dieter had had an interview to do and Jordan never minded an outing, so the trip out to get paint was a good one. “We came back with the yellow tone, Morning Light…and a new light fixture for the ceiling because I liked the brass hardware with the yellow colour.” You point upward, drawing his attention to the main light in the room - coming from a fixture of frosted glass and brass that looked like a sunburst.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “You got Jordan to install it for you, didn’t you?” He asks with a grin, knowing the man who had taken over for Rico was wrapped around your finger with this pregnancy.

The grin that spreads across your face is devious, but you shrug innocently. “He didn’t like the idea of me being five months pregnant with twins and on top of a ladder.”

“Good man.” He nods in complete agreement with Jordan. Dieter isn’t handy but he would have freaked out if he had come home and you were hanging a light. “I’m going to give him tomorrow off to say thank you for not letting my wife do things she shouldn’t.”

“Are you home tomorrow?” Snuggling backward into his arms gives you a distinct sense of peace that really can’t be matched.

"Yeah." He nods and tucks his face into your neck with a happy sigh. "Some special effects shots they want to get. I don't need to be there."

“So my husband will be home all day with no one else around?” You tip your head back to grin at him. “Sounds like pool sex to me.”

“You are liking pool sex more and more.” He comments, leaning closer to kiss the tip of your nose. “I think it’s because you can still float with those babies in your belly.”

"I don't like when my back hurts after we fuck," you admit, feeling a little sheepish about it. "Being in the pool alleviates a lot of that, plus I get to float around and be lazy after. It's a win-win."

“Baby…” Guilt swims in his gut again, even if you had planned to get pregnant. “We don’t have to have sex. I can just make you cum.” As sexy as he finds you and as much as he loves sex, he would spend the next six months jerking off if you needed him to.

"We'll get to that point, I'm sure." All evidence points in that direction, anyway. Turning in his arms, you cup both of his cheeks in his hands and press a kiss to his lips. "But we're not there yet, and I still really, really like having sex with my husband."

“You let me know the second it changes.” He grumbles, not wanting you to hate or dread the idea of sex with him.

"I promise." That bridge will be crossed when you get to it, but for now you're not even close to being in that headspace. There have been times over the course of this pregnancy that he has literally only looked at you and your panties have been soaked through. "But that day isn't today and I definitely don't think it will be tomorrow."

Chuckling, his hand slides down and slips into your leggings to start rubbing your clit. “Oh I feel that.” He teases.

"Dee..." Grasping for his other arm to hold you steady, your knees buckle under the surprise touch and you sigh. "G—god baby, 'm already so wet..."

“You want to paint?” He teases, kissing your ear as he keeps rubbing you. Tightening his hold on you to keep you upright. “I can stop, and we can focus on the babies’ room.”

You shake your head adamantly, twisting your neck to be able to kiss him as he holds you tight to his body. "Take me to bed?" After years together, he knows exactly how to touch you to make you cum hard and fast or slow and steady, but now that you've been talking about it you want him inside you. "We can paint later."

Dieter smirks and kisses you again as he pulls his fingers away from your clit. Smug when you whimper. “I’ll take you to bed, baby.” He murmurs against your lips. “Don’t you worry.”

******

Lying in his arms in the afterglow is slightly different now, with your bump resting on his hip to give you a little relief instead of him wrapped all the way around you like a Dieter-shaped blanket. That big bed you’ve shared for years barely resembles the one you had to sneak out of so long ago. The sheets and blankets are different. There are more pillows. There is a television in the bedroom now even though Dieter hates it, because some days the most physical activity you’re up for is channel surfing. Today, though, all those plush blankets create a beautiful little nest for the two of you to sink into, and you lie with your head on his shoulder and your bump on his hip, pressing kisses to any little bit of skin you can reach.

His hand slowly strokes your back, stopping and pushing in gently to rub the pressure points that cause so many problems for you. Trying to relieve a little of the ache that seems to be constant as time goes on and the babies grow. “I got a call today.” He announces softly. “It seems as if the entire family is descending on L.A. for the birth.” He grins. “They assured me that they won’t interfere and will not try to come visit if you don’t want. But they want to be here.”

“Really?” Your eyes had been half-closed, enjoying the petit message, but you open them fully now and smile at him. “Arya had mentioned something about wanting to visit but hadn’t said when. That’s sweet of them.” His bond with his family has been amazing to watch grow, although his grandfather’s funeral last year had been difficult because of it.

“It’s up to you.” Dieter reminds you again. “We can always ask them come later if you feel like you need it to be just us for a bit.” He had looked into renting a house for the family, but your comfort and wants was his first priority.

“It will depend on how long they can stay.” Dropping yet another kiss on his shoulder, you sigh happily. “I definitely want them to meet the babies. But if they can only stay for a week then it might be better to have them come over after the birth, just because due dates are unpredictable.”

“They want to stay a month.” Dieter murmurs. “Give the teens some time in America, and not hound you too much.”

“Meanwhile I’m having to stonewall my mother every time she tries to force her way into the delivery room plans.” Though you roll your eyes, you lean up and leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “It sounds like it will be great, love. A long visit means there won’t be as much pressure to cram in time together and they can do plenty of sightseeing.”

“That was pretty much the thinking.” He hums and caresses your cheek with the hand that isn’t on your back. “I just wanted to make sure what you wanted.” He chuckles when he thinks about your mother’s attempts to take over the planning of the birth like it was her own twins that are being born. Dieter had firmly told her that your wants were all that mattered.

“Absolutely.” You nod and snuggle into his side. “I’m just gonna warn your aunt Luisa that I’ll be begging her to make that crazy Swiss mac and cheese that they do. Hers is so much better than any restaurant.”

“She’s already planning on it.” Dieter grins and sighs happily. “I’m going to rent them a house. Better than staying in hotel rooms. One nearby so they can either relax or do what they want when you aren’t feeling up for family visits.”

“Look at you.” You grin at him, one hand soothing the underside of your belly. “Dieter Bravo, family man.”

“I know.” He huffs and wrinkles his nose. “What the fuck happened to me?” He’s teasing, of course. He loves the life he had right now and wouldn’t change it for all the drugs in the world.

You snort, grinning at him in that way that still wrinkles your nose and makes him soften even years later. You have never gone a single day without teasing each other and your relationship is that much stronger for being able to laugh together. “Fuck you, Bravo.”

Dieter laughs, tugging you closer to him and humming happily. “Fuck you, too.” He huffs before turning his head. “Alexa, play our song.” He orders the small bedside unit. After a moment, the voice of the home system rings out. “Playing You’re So Vain.” Grinning, Dieter kisses your nose as the music starts to play. The throaty, soulful voice of Carly Simon starts to sing. “Son of a gun. You walked into the party like you were walking onto a yacht…”

______

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