#My Baby Just Cares for Me (Extended Version) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lizzaneia-elizalde · 7 months

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Hi I was thinking what about yan!mafia boss who kidnaps and baby traps(no need for smut scene) reader and how life would be for reader while pregnant

Yandere! Ex-patient! Mafia Boss x AFAB! Nurse!Reader

Hmm baby trapping.

Well I can say for sure y'all like the pregnant fics LMAO

I hope you don't mind me putting more details to yandere! This is like the much more twisted version of a greek myth story, so be warned!

Also, Rowan cameo? (Since Rowan is also a mafia boss)

Yandere! Mafia boss name: Hades

"Sir! Rowan's men are closing in!"

Hades clenched his teeth and looked at his right hand man. He was injured and not able to use his left arm right now.

"Fuck. Do we really need to retreat?" Hades pondered, clutching the empty Thompson in his hands and not minding his broken leg.

"Sir, please, let's just retreat!"

Hades bit his tongue and messed up his hair in frustration before opening up the intercom. "Retreat! Get out of there and retreat!"

It was hard extracting his men from that warehouse lot. But in the end, they were left with only 75% of the number of men that went to this mission, much to Hades' disappointment.

Hades.

He doesn't have a surname, nor a family.

All he has is his mafia and his men.

He remembered when he desperately clawed at the feet of the old mafia boss, asking him to take him in.

He remembers the rigorous training he had to go through in order to be accepted inside their famiglia, and just to be recognized by his boss.

After years of being the underdog, he won a do or die tournament inside the famiglia. And he became the new boss once the old one retired.

As somebody who didn't have anything, he knew how hard it is to have nothing at all. Nothing to eat, nothing to sleep on, nothing to drink.

So he made sure to claw as much as he can to his territory.

He is relentless in his pursuit. With his cold eyes and violent tendencies, it's no wonder his wealth and circle expanded exponentially.

His temper always flare up whenever he saw something he wants.

Envious even.

Filled with envy, he would stop at nothing to get what he wants.

He's temperamental, vicious, cold, and jealous.

He's always jealous. Envious.

He wants everything.

So, when he saw the opportunity to extend his territory once more with the Silas famiglia's territory, he had to.

But it landed him in the hospital.

It was a close fight, but in the end, Rowan won due to an error with Hades' group.

Hades sighed and brushed back his hair to his scalp, not even flinching when the nurse accidentally bumped into his broken leg.

"I-i'm so sorry sir! Forgive me!" The nurse panicked, their breathing fast and short.

Hades frowned, his eyes glowering in anger as he stared daggers at the nurse.

The nurse gulped and ran away, scared for their life.

Hades leaned back to the pristine, luxury hospital bed. The ache in his leg didn't faze him as he looked outside of the window, annoyed at the lost oppurtunity.

For now, he's going to let the Silas' go.

The door opened and in came a new nurse, you.

"Hello sir. I'm your new nurse! My name is y/n." You said, gently holding the clipboard in your hand. Your light blue scrub was clean and spotless.

"Hmph." Hades mused. "Did the crybaby ran to you and tattled on me? Telling i'm a big bad man?" He cooed, like talking to a child.

But rather than getting angry or scared, you only laughed and shook your head.

"You could say that." You told him straightforward, and this amused Hades.

"Well, whatever. Just do your best to take care of me." Hades said before he allowed you to come close to him.

You were an amazing nurse.

Nothing short of caring, you made sure to attend to Hades to the best you can do.

It was like you were a family member, taking care of him with such tenderness that even touched Hades.

Your hands, like the work of an angel, had the touch of a skilled healer and caregiver as you even tended to the most mundane tasks that he could do, like eat.

He didn't mind though. The pretty nurse was taking care of him. Who is he to refuse?

At first, he thought you were only after his money, which understandably made him upset. But you never crossed the line to flirt with him. You acted like an old friend, bantering and joking with him.

He liked this. You were not tense around him. You're not intimidated by the man in front of you, only annoyed whenever he refused to do something you needed him to do.

You both become friends, and Hades always looked forward to your care.

Just pure, adulterated caring hands of a mother-like figure.

Mother, huh?

If you took care of Hades like this, how would you take care of your own children?

He innocently pondered. Imagining you pregnant, he daydreamed of you give birth and having children.

But he flinched, suddenly feeling his body hot.

Seeing you pregnant aroused him.

No, seeing you get pregnant due to him aroused him to no end.

It was just supposed to be an innocent thought. Since he wanted to imagine what would it be like for you to have a family of your own and taking care of them.

But he imagined that the husband is him, the children are his, and you are his wife.

He imagined you moaning under him, clutching his back and screaming his name as he blew his load into you, pumping you full.

He imagined you with a round belly, filled with his baby or two, waddling around his mansion as he took care of your every need.

God.

He licked his teeth, suddenly, suddenly liking the prospect of you with him.

Ever since then, he saw you in a different light.

He had to have you.

Hades moved his leg and smiled.

It doesn't hurt anymore, and he knew it was fully healed.

"Thanks for this, doll." Hades said, his husky deep voice breaking the silence inside the hospital room. His sharp, dark eyes bored into your giddy form that was clapping for him.

"That's great then!" You grinned, looking at the clipboard and nodding. "You're good for discharge then! Can't believe you abused your stay here in the hospital until your broken leg actually healed."

Hades howled in laughter, feeling light.

"Hey, I had to. It's much more peaceful here." He lazily grinned. "And, I had my pretty little doll take care of me. That's two birds in one stone."

You flushed pink and gave a small chuckle.

"Haha. So funny." You rolled your eyes.

"What can I say? I'm a clown." Hades joked "Honk honk." He squeezed his nose, pretending it's the red, squeezy clown nose that clowns have.

"The whole circus, you mean." You teased.

The both of you got quiet once more as you helped his men who just got inside the room to move Hades' things out.

He watched you interact with his men and frowned, jealousy bubbling inside of him. And his eyes narrowed when he saw one brush his hand with yours.

In his eyes, it wasn't an accident, it was a deliberate act of flirting with you.

"Okay, I got to report to your physician first. Be right back!" You said, waving to Hades before jogging out.

"Oi, you."

All of his men stopped, heart rate suddenly picking up as Hades pointed at the man who brushed his hands with yours.

"Yes sir?" The man approached him and Hades immediately grabbed his hand, twisting it.

The man was about to scream in agony but only got to whimper in pain when Hades bore holes in him.

"Those hands you touched? I am the only one who's able to do that." Hades seethed, jealousy and envy bubbling inside of him again, threatening to boil over. "So don't you dare do that again."

He let go of the man as he nodded, scrambling away from him. His other men only bowed and continued to do their work.

They knew not to touch the boss' future wife, as what Hades told them.

But they don't know the scope of 'touch', and it seems that even accidental touches aren't out of the question.

They were glad that their boss found a woman to be his partner, and was happy that the boss seemed like he found something to be happy with.

Especially with how hard his life was before, he needed somebody who will love him unconditionally.

But they forgot that Hades was the epitome of envy and jealousy.

They prayed for your soul. May it be to escape Hades' clutches, or for you to tolerate his behavior and his overly possessive nature.

But, six months later, their hair stood on their ends when they saw you inside the boss' mansion, confined, and kidnapped. You had a defeated look on your face as you glared at their boss, who only smirked.

You were kidnapped by Hades.

six months before the kidnapping

Hades visited you in the hospital, bringing a bouquet of flowers in hand. It was an assortment of different floras, most of them of your favorite flower that you mused to him one day.

He sighed, suddenly feeling nervous. It was the first time he felt like this, but he shook his head and clicked his tongue before walking inside.

His long legs strode towards your floor. The other hospital personnel, who once cowered in fear, looked at him curiously and started to gush amongst themselves.

They knew who he was here for.

And once he got to the 4th floor, he saw you, working on your computer.

"Hey little doll." He drawled out, smirking as you looked up to him.

"Hades! How are you?!" You excitedly jumped up, eyes sparkling. Hades felt warm inside, knowing you were smiling like that because of him.

"Oh, you know. Doing the same. Your care is spectacular. I got healed in such a short time. You're an angel, you know that?" Hades winked and you giggled.

"Oh shut you. What are you here for?" You asked.

You gasped, seeing the bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"Grant me the pleasure of being with you, doll?" Hades said, his voice low and quiet, but his resolve was strong.

You grinned and accepted the bouquet, smelling the amazing aroma and smiling.

"Of course!"

At first, dating Hades was fun.

He spoiled you rotten. Giving you jewelry, clothing, food... Anything you looked at, he would buy.

He was a gentleman. A clear and distinct difference from how he's always been.

It was supposed to be a fairytale love story. Well, as much as a fairytale it is being with a mafia boss.

But he was so possessive and overly jealous.

"Why are you looking at him?"

"You don't have male patients, right? No, scratch that. Even women can see how amazing you are."

"Why did he talk to you? Is he asking you out?"

"What did she say? Did she flirt with you?"

"I'll rip their skulls out if you even try to glance their direction."

You groaned, annoyed by his jealousy. You tried to reassure him, that nothing was wrong, that he was the only one for you, but he won't listen.

He was draining to be with. He's always watching other people like a hawk, threatening them if they tried to interact with you, then getting so manipulative with you.

And while you made sweet, sweet love with him one night, with your body filled with his marks and bites, you knew you had to let go of the man.

You can't even work in the hospital right because of his jealousy.

So you have to.

But when you woke up, were kidnapped by him.

"What the fuck?! Hades!" You screamed, looking at the windows. It was grilled. The doors, all unlocked except for the exits.

Nobody was allowed inside the mansion, only you and Hades were residing there.

Hades smirked, looking at you pacing around the mansion. His eyes, dark, obsessed, and possessive, swept your form up and down.

"Doll, you're in the right place." Hades stalked towards you. His long legs, which you once helped heal, was now transporting your twisted boyfriend in front of you. "You think I don't know you want to leave me?"

You seethed, eyes boring betrayal and hatred.

"Why did you kidnap me?"

Hades smirked.

"Like I said, I know you want to leave me. And I can't have that." Hades licked his lips and gently clutched your hips. His thumbs, dangerously close to your core. You shivered, your body responding to his touch. "I did well training your body to like my touch." Hades mused.

You looked away, defiant arousal filling you inside as his hips fit with yours.

You could feel his excitement prodding at your stomach.

"I know you want me, doll." He whispered, leaning down to your ear and licking it. "Doesn't this feel forbidden? If you really hated me, hated my touch, and want to go out, you should have ran away from me. But hey, look at this. You're letting me touch you."

He chuckled darkly as he saw your red face.

"Come on doll." He whispered, kissing your neck. "They said hate sex feels phenomenal. Want to try it?"

Accepting it was the dumbest decision of your life.

He pumped you full, not even bothering to put protection.

And you, swept away by his divine touch, didn't care also.

You only regret this decision once you got pregnant.

Hades gave a triumphant, evil lopsided grin as he called his men to introduce you.

His men's eyes widened in fear at him.

Nobody can even get inside his mansion, let alone his men.

But now, he's openly letting people go inside his mansion. They knew you were inside the mansion, kidnapped. But why is he letting them go inside now?

Hades scoffed and shielded your form from the inquisitive eyes of his men, jealousy filling him.

"Welcome my fiancée, everyone. Treat her well, will you? She's pregnant with my child."

They all froze, before they felt like they were showered with cold ice water.

Baby trapped.

You were baby trapped.

That's why Hades opened the doors to them.

You can't leave no matter what.

And as Hades smirked at your glaring form, they prayed once more.

You're never going out of his clutches.

You were now forever confined in Hades' world.

His Persephone.

#yandere boyfriend #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #male yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere drabbles #lizzaneiaelizalde

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gummilutt · 4 months

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250 followers Custom Memory Bonanza

It's finally time! To thank all you lovely people for your support, I have been working hard to get this ready for upload and here we are. Today I am sharing my custom memory object, and my library of a whopping 201 custom memories. Based on the wonderful Tattered Diary by DiLight over on MTS, and the tutorial she shared of how to make your own custom memories.

I've always cared a lot about memories, to me they tell the story of the Sims life. Some of you from MTS may recall when I did the whole several year rebuild of my hood, replicating every last detail of the original. I'm memory crazy, okay? And when DiLight gave me the power to make my own, I may have gone a tad overboard. Or just the right amount, you get to decide :P DiLight taught me most of what I know about making custom memories, and the base BHAVs are from her, but as I've learned more I've added some bells and whistles that I hope you will enjoy. It's a new clone and separate GUID from the original tutorial object set up by DiLight, so if you have your own you can have mine too without issues :) Found in misc/misc, costs 1 simoleon.

Download on simfileshare

Features - Brand new form, created by me. Resized BV photo album with new mapping and new texture (seen above, in game pictures at the end of this post). I wanted something that was uniquely mine, and that you don't necessarily have to hide away in the attic or under the foundation. If you don't like it, you also have some additional model forms you can switch between through the pie menu. - Adaptable dynamic menu. Thanks to a really neat trick from @picknmixsims the menu reflects the memories you put in your downloads. If no file with the correct guid is found, the option for it won't show. Which means that although I am crazy enough to have 201, you can go ahead and only pick your favorite ones and the object will automatically detect and adapt the menu to that selection. - Memories all have a custom icon, that's made from game icons from TS2 or TS3. Some I am quite proud of, some are admittedly not great. Not everything is easy to convey through game icons, but I've tried my best, I hope the effort shows. 5 memories have icons that are not from the game, but I tried to match them to the aesthetic as best I could. - Memory subject menu shows only relevant age groups. For example, if the memory is about having a baby, only baby/toddler Sims will show as options. Goal being to keep menu as concise as possible. If you wish to assign memories retroactively, please see jonasn's excellent Memory Commander object, which has support to add my custom memories without age limitations. As well as a whole lot of other useful memory-related stuff. - Extensive documentation detailing everything you may need to know about the memories (text, icon, background, who can get it, who they can get it about, repeatability, where to find it on the object) to help you select the ones you want for your game, and familiarize yourself with them. - English and Swedish translations of memories, and object menu. If someone wants to add their language, that would be great but it's a lot of work so I don't expect it. You are welcome to share your translated versions directly if you wish, or you can send them to me for me to update files shared here :) If you want to learn how to translate the files directly, Episims has a great tutorial found here.

Examples of types of custom memories included - Extended family members memories (got cousin, got aunt/uncle, got sibling, got twin sibling, got great grandchild, got stepparent, got stepchild) - Birth related memories (pregnancy, becoming parent, late in life parent, had multiples birth, premature baby) - Marriage related memories (divorce, parental divorce, custody things, alimony) - Relationship related memories (fighting, breakups, additional love memories) - Woohoo related (memories for specific woohoo locations, repeatable generic woohoo/public woohoo) - University degree related (declared major memories, got a minor degree memories, got a major degree memories, for remembering having studied multiple things and being able to see what major your Sim chose without looking at their diploma) - Loan related, for remembering taking and paying off loans of different types - Moving memories (first apartment, child moves out, various memories for sims moving in with others) - Kids related (child's first day in school, got their own pet, nursery rhyme, giving up for adoption, living at orphanage)

Mods automating delivery of my CC memories (more to come) Learned nursery rhyme from - Found here, by me Wrote restaurant guide - Found here, part of jonasn "Novel Writing Improvements" mod

Credits: DiLight, @picknmixsims, @morepopcorn, @latmosims, @joplayingthesims, maxon, @keoni-chan. For detailed info on how they all impacted the creation of this, see readme :) Policy: Give credit to DiLight, beyond that, totally open. Enjoy!

#gummiluttmods #ts2 mods #ts2 gameplay #ts2 cc #ts2 custom memories #gummi memories

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ddyberzatto · 8 months

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just the two of us.

Strictly 18+. Super sweet but also pretty explicit smut. Not a ton of context, mostly steam. Very passionate vanilla. This is Carmy truly in love. I love this dynamic tbh.

⋆ ୨❀୧ ⋆

It can be hard to tell if he’s anxious or if something has happened, but you know not to push. He’s been like this again. Withdrawn, distant, his mind anywhere but with you. It’s all new to you, being there for each other like this, but you’ve learned how to look after each other just by doing the little things. You cook a meal for him - nothing fancy. You’re always a little self-conscious cooking for him, but he is always appreciative. And you know he needs you right now.

“I’m worried about you, Carmy.” You say once dinner is finished.

You weren’t sure how to approach it, or when. Here, in his apartment, in his living room, seems like the easiest place. In truth, it’s been hard to see him at all and going to his restaurant felt off-limits to you, at least whilst he was like this.

“I know, I–” He pauses, unsure what to say.

“I’m not trying to force anything. I just want you to know I’m here. I just don’t know if there’s anything I can do, or–”

He extends his hand to yours and pulls you onto his lap when you grasp it.

“You are honestly the best thing going on in my life right now.” He runs his hand through your hair. “Just— just don’t go anywhere. Stay, even if I fuck up.”

“How would you fuck up?” Your voice rises with concern.

“I don’t know, I just… I always do. I’ve pushed so many people away, I fucked every good thing up. Now you’re the good thing and I can feel you slipping away from me already and—“

He sounds panicked.

“I’m not. I promise I’m not.” You touch his cheek gently then place his hand on your chest.

It doesn’t take long before your breathing is in sync, deep and purposeful. Almost without meaning to, you begin to inch towards each other. He brushes your hair behind your ear and leans to whisper.

“I’m not perfect, I’m often not good enough at all. I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve not been here, I’ve been neglecting you, I’ve been–”

You hush him and grab the hand that’s resting behind your ear then cup your cheek in it.

“I want to be close to you” You murmur.

“Yeah?” He smiles gently.

His first smile today.

“Yeah.”

“How close?” He grabs your chin and pulls you in for a kiss. He’s gentle and it seems as if he’s holding back. “This close?”

“Closer.” You kiss him back.

With your lips intertwined in a deep kiss, he grabs your hip and leads you softly towards the bedroom. With each step you take towards the door, you feel the burning passion growing between you. Carmen is needy, groaning in your ear and you feel his cock twitching for you in his pants.

He’s worn out from another long day of work, sweaty, and his hair is a mess but you couldn’t care less. You love him like this. You love every version of him but this one, the one whose body is sore from work but still yearning for you, and whose voice is hoarse from shouting but gentle for you, is your version of Carmy. The one you will never have to share with the world.

“You’re so fucking sweet. Here, lay down.” He speaks softly in your ear.

Your body is now rested against the bed’s headrest and Carmy pushes himself between your pushed-up knees to kiss you. He places his hand under your top, his fingers gently grazing over your belly and working their way up towards your breasts.

“I missed you today.” You purr.

“Me too, baby.”

He pulls up your top and starts kissing your bare breasts, eager. As his kisses wander lower and lower, you feel your thighs tingling in excitement.

“Let’s get rid of that.” He says and pulls off your leggings and panties.

The anticipation is now almost unbearable. You feel his fevered breath close to your most intimate parts and his lips grazing ever so lightly. He’s teasing you. You push back his hair, trying to encourage him to continue. He spares you. His tongue glides against your clit, with just the right amount of gentle pressure. The pleasure is overwhelming and you arch your back, only for him to push you back in your place so he can savour you. He moans into you, his tongue still stroking you in a beautiful pattern. Your quiet whimpers turn into desperate moans, which only encourage him. One of his hands is still resting on your hip, holding you in place firmly. The other hand wanders to your opening and he gradually slides two of his fingers inside you. His fingers pushing on you from the inside make the sensations all the stronger and begin to feel the intense build-up.

“I’m almost there Carmy, I–”

He maintains a steady rhythm and the sensation soon becomes too much to bear. Your body fills with pure ecstasy and your moans now sound like filthy cries. You don’t know how many times you said Carmy’s name, how many I love yous slipped in as the pulsing tension of your pussy continued around his fingers.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He looks up at you, his hand gently stroking your inner thigh. You’re feeling very sensitive and although he knows your body so well, he doesn’t seem to be able to stop himself any longer. He undoes his belt hastily and quickly places himself at your opening. He’s so hard for you, his tip already soaked in his arousal. His gaze once again meets yours and he looks at you as if seeking permission. You can hardly breathe, let alone speak, so you nod and brace yourself.

His cock works itself into you bit by bit and soon you feel his entire length penetrating you, the tingling pressure filling up all of you. Your belly feels full of butterflies, full of love, full of Carmy. Once again your moans begin to rise, you move your head to the side but he grasps your chin to face him. He wants you to look at him, and only him, as he fucks you.

“Oh, I know, baby. I know.” He murmurs.

The tempo between your bodies speeds up and his movements become more rhythmic. Some strokes are deeper than others, but the deepest ones, when you feel his entire length, never fail to take your breath away.

“You pretty little thing.” His voice is raspy and makes you clench even tighter around him.

He’s eager and almost sloppy as he gets close. As soon as you feel his cock twitching, he quickly lifts you up by your back so that you are sitting on top of him in the lotus position. His manhood is still planted firmly inside you, you can feel every twitch as he fills you up. Nothing can beat that feeling, the closeness of your bodies right against each other as he orgasms inside you. His heavy breath is buried in your hair, in your ear, your neck.

“I love you.” He says in a breathy voice. “I love this.”

Your bodies finally untangle. He rests his back against the bed and lights a cigarette. You lay your head on his lap and he strokes your hair lightly.

“Carmy?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to worry... About messing this up. I won’t let you push me away.”

He exhales, a little shakily.

“I know. It will be different this time.” He says and takes another puff.

You believe him when he says that because everything has been different since you fell in love too. You both used to run but that was back when things never felt quite right. You fall asleep to Carmen’s gentle touches over your neck, shoulders, and back and it feels like home. Everything about this is right.

#carmy x reader #carmy smut #the bear fx #the bear #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto x you #the bear fan fiction #Jeremy allen white #the bear smut #Carmen Berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #Carmen Berzatto x you #carmy Berzatto imagine

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eternalsa2z · 3 months

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DM In Your DMs

You were introduced by your friend Nally. After plenty of teasing and toying and asking if you were sure you were ready to meet this model. Not just excited. Like busting out of your seat and bra ready.

You insisted that you were and the Instagram reveal didn't disappoint. She goes by the name 'Doll Mistress' and she is H - O - T HOT HOT HOT. She looked like a queen in her full glory, her gaze admiring her many worshipers as she gives them a brief glance at her perfection.

She def had a bit of a 'rich bitch' or 'ice queen' vibe, which normally doesn't match your sweet girly vibes. Even if her look still made you melt into a puddle. But that doesn't mean she can't rock a bit of a girl next door look. You know, if that girl was an heiress at the next mansion over in the gated community.

Still you couldn't help but be obsessed by this look. Her pony was clearly a fake extension and her faux fur boots were a bit much. But then again that fit her vibes, doesn't it? As if she was saying:

"I'm pretty. I'm plastic. I don't care who knows. Worship me"

Gawd what you wouldn't give to worship in front of Doll Mistress. You'd die if she slipped into your DMs. Or at least you died and went to heaven. Because one day, late in your timezone and early in hers, she sent you a message.

"Hello Kiki. I heard you were a pretty cute bimbo doll who's been having some stupid bullies say mean things. Why don't you let Doll Mistress take care of them...then we can go on a date"

You of course, through your bimbo babbling in sheer fangirling, manage to explain that while you love the support, you are a committed bimbo. Her next DM makes it clear that she's simply chuckling at your cuteness.

"Oh I know. I'm not looking for a relationship. Just a doll to play with"

True to her word, the homophobes and patriarchy pushers slowly disappear from your site. You also notice a corresponding uptick in extra girly, submissive bimbos talking up how pretty you are. It's great because you need the pep talk ahead of your first date...er, totally platonic meeting.

You spend forever picking out your outfit. You need to look perfect. Make a good impression for Mistress. You end up looking cute - but she shows up looking stunning, showing up to your date dressed in feminine finery. Making baby boy blue look as good as girly pink.

She has a beautiful floral adornment right around her throat. Perhaps it's a metaphor for her tight grasp on femininity. Or perhaps a future indication of how soon her ice queen grip will extend to a beautiful bimbo flower like yourself. You squeeze your legs together during the whole meal, imagining the second scenario.

She has you in her clutches from that day on. You're obsessed with her beautiful face and hair. Envious of her fashionable clothes. Above all else, in awe of her attitude and how she rocks her look to the fullest.

The next time you meet in person, your Doll Mistress casually drags a fur coat behind her, like the expensive treasured item is nothing to her.

God what you wouldn't give to be that coat…dragged around behind her…following in her footsteps. She's so incredible. You can't even say anything intelligent, just "OMG!" over and over again as she arrives. Her plush lips curl into a smile, a rare sighting worth more than her entire wardrobe.

"I'm glad you like my look, Kiki. You could be seeing a lot more of it. Come with me. Be my doll."

It's three months later. You and your wife have moved in with Doll Mistress. She spoils and pampers your wife, slowly turning her into a little plastic trophy, a mini-version of herself. You, on the other hand, are her pretty little doll. The one she brings everywhere, even stowing you away in a custom dollbox in her luggage when she travels on vacation. It's worth it to spend time with her and relax at the Bimbo Resort.

"Kiki? Mistress is out of her glass of BMBO. Won't you be a doll and scurry over to the cabana to get me a refill?"

"Yes Mistress! Of course Mistress! Anything you want!" you squeal excitedly, eager to be helpful.

"Good girl. If you return fast enough, I'll let you lotion up my back again" she purrs.

Quickly you bound away as fast as your high heels, wiggling butt, and jiggling bimbo titties will let you. Mistress has been so generous in turning you into her little bimbo pet. Serving her drinks is the least you can do for her!

Plus…the enticing thought of being allowed to touch her perfect plastic body…that's all the payment a doll like you needs. Just a bimbo doll serving her Doll Mistress.

#bimboification #f2f transformation #bitchification #trophy wives #bimbo resort #bmbo

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drferox · 9 months

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My MS Diagnosis

So I’m approaching the 2 year mark since my Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis and I thought I’d better document how I got here, because being the patient is a weird experience, especially for a condition that had kind of vague symptoms that needed a fair amount of work up.

My symptoms actually started in early 2020, when I was in the third trimester of pregnancy. The main symptom was mistaken for carpal tunnel syndrome - numbness in my fingers that would progress to increasingly violent pins & needles sensations, that would progress to burning if I tried to push through it. Only this sensation would extend all the way up to my shoulders at times. I stopped performing surgery, because not only was I unsatisfied with my lack of sensation to know what I was doing with my tissue handling, but the pain would get worse quickly in constrictive surgical gloves in the presence of patient warming. So I stopped performing surgery in late pregnancy and was told it would get better a few months after giving birth.

It did not.

So six months after giving birth, finding myself able to use my hands for short periods but still unable to perform surgery to my standard, I went back to complain to the doctor. I also couldn’t play video games properly, my arms would often be numb when I woke up, all the way up to my shoulder, and they were super temperature sensitive. Even hot water from washing dishes would set them off.

They sent me down a carpal tunnel work up - ultrasounds and talking to a neurologist. The short version is they did tell me I had mild carpal tunnel… on one side only.

Which did not make any damn sense considering I had symptoms on both sides all the way up to my shoulder.

The worst neurologist in the world could not explain to me why a mild problem on one wrist was affecting sensation all the way up to the opposite shoulder, and just said ‘it happens sometimes’. Now, I like to think I have a solid understanding of the basics of how a body works, and was really unsatisfied with this answer. They recommended I talk to a surgeon, since I’d already been doing a bunch of physiotherapy, but I decided not to. Surgery could have put my hand in a cast for up to 6 weeks, I had a 6 month old baby to care for at home and a partner who was useless at best, and abusive at worst. I could not afford the time in a cast.

So I went to try something else, visiting an osteopath to see what they could do about my ‘mild’ carpal tunnel, and while I’m there, these headaches I’ve been getting.

She spent a good long while stretching out different muscle groups, and found that certain neck muscle stretches changed the sensations I was getting in my fingertips. So whatever was causing the hand problem was coming from somewhere in the neck, and she recommended I get a CT scan.

Went back to my doctor to get a referral for a CT scan, and explained what was going on. He thought about it for a minute, didn’t voice his concerns, and upgraded it to a neck MRI.

That MRI found a demyelinating lesion in my neck. So went back for a full Central Nervous System scan and found a couple more borderline ones.

That sent me back to a (different) neurologist, had a proper neurological exam that found a few random patches of altered skin sensation in addition to the arm weirdness I had going on. So I was probably a MS case, but not particularly severe as MS goes.

To confirm it I needed a lumbar puncture to look for oligoclonal bands in by CSF. The lumbar puncture was a moderately unpleasant experience which then mandated that I remain lying down for 24 hours so that my spinal fluid didn’t spring a leak. With a baby and a distinctly unhelpful partner, I barely made it to that 24 hours.

And then… I sprung a CSF leak. Which is a jolly weird experience I can tell you.

When your CSF leaks from a lumbar puncture you will feel perfectly fine… when you are lying flat on your back, because your spine flops over the hole and plugs the leak. If you’re upright at all the spine flops away from the hole and it slowly leaks out, and you get more of this weird frontal headache that gets worse the longer you’re upright, standing there talking to the ER admissions nurse. And the info I had explained that it can progress to seizures and similar the worse it gets, but I only got as far as pain and fuzzy vision. I seriously could only be upright for ten minutes without pain, and had to lie down to resolve it.

That required some medicine-that-looks-like-magic to fix, called a blood patch. Doctors took some of my blood, fresh out of the vein, and inserted it into my spine approximately where the leak should be, so that the clot would cover the leaky patch. Self blood magic. It worked brilliantly, about an hour later.

The CSF tap ordeal confirmed the presence of the oligoclonal bands, and then I got stunted into the public health system, in a department specifically geared towards managing Multiple Sclerosis patients. They debated for a little while, at a multidisciplinary meeting, whether I was really MS or a Clinically Isolated Syndrome (which is like Multiple Sclerosis but without the ‘Multiple’ part), but settled on MS. Yes, Tumblr, I was nearly diagnosed with CIS.

The shoe thing took about a year from when I actively complained to doctors, or about 18 months from the first probable symptoms. That’s approximate because some things that were thought to be pregnancy symptoms could have been due to MS, like fatigue and leg weakness. I’m pretty lucky that I’m comfortable in hospitals and with medical procedures, am reasonably medically literate. I think the magic phrase that got things to happen quickly was ‘these symptoms are greatly affecting my ability to do my job’.

I don’t think my MS has progressed since starting the medication (and I’ll talk about the medication in another post). I’ve acquired one additional brain lesion since diagnosis, but I have no clue what physical symptom it’s associated with.

While some symptoms are better, I still cannot perform surgery to the standard or with the endurance that I used to,so I basically don’t any more. I can do about ten minutes, which is enough to bail a new graduate vet out of trouble, but not enough to take over completely for them. I’ve had a few years to think about it but I don’t know what the MS is going to do to my career, only that I can still practice for now.

It’s not great, but it could be a whole lot worse, and that’s how I got here.

#multiple sclerosis #MS #medical diagnosis #me the patient

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adorethedistance · 7 months

Text

Baby Fever (2) - Trevor Zegras x Reader

Hockey Masterlist

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex

Words: 2417

Requested: Can you please do a trevor blurb where him and y/n go to a pumpkin patch with their nephew and Trevor's playing with their nephew and y/n gets so much baby fever please

A/n: Back already I know ! Here's part 2 to Baby Fever lol hope y'all enjoyed Part 1. I've decided this is going to be a 3 part fic bc I wanted to write a smut as well but this part was already getting too long for my liking. Therefore, part 3 is gonna be an almost plotless smut lol. Enjoy my loves !!

“Can I have aux?” Trevor asks, unplugging my phone before I can say anything.

“Please, help yourself,” I say pointedly, making fun of his impatience. He merely scrunches his nose and sticks his tongue out at me though there’s no real maliciousness behind it. “Let’s stick to child appropriate content only. I don’t need the little guy to go home with some new words. Dani will have my head.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Trevor salutes me but doesn’t look up from his phone. After a moment he presses a button and “Mr. Perfectly Fine (Taylor’s Version)” begins to play. I roll my eyes. This is the fourth time Trevor has made us listen through this album this week.

“At this point, I think you’re doing this to spite me.”

“Come on, babe!” He turns over his shoulder to look at Greyson, “You like Taylor, right Grey?”

Stretching up to look in the rearview, I see Greyson frown and shrug his shoulders indifferently. The gesture makes me laugh and I quickly glance at Trevor with a smug smile.

“You guys are just haters,” Trevor pouts, making no effort to change the music.

Once we arrive at the pumpkin patch, I put the car into park and as soon as I do, Trevor unbuckles to sit up and grab my chin with his hand and kiss me swiftly. The action is surprising at first, but I allow myself to melt into the kiss and pull away with a smile.

“Let’s go!” Greyson jeers from the back seat. Trevor and I laugh before getting out of the car in synchronized pacing. I open the rear driver’s side door to reach in and unbuckle Greyson. He slides out of the seat on his own before leaping out of the car and I step back surprised. When I step backwards I bump into Trevor who had seemingly materialized out of thin air. He catches my hips in his hands before running his thumb over the waistband of my jeans. I shoot him a look that’s partially alluring, partially mocking,

“One kiss is all it took?” He shrugs and spins me around to kiss me again. Blinking away his smugness, he holds out his open hand for me to take and together we enter the patch. Greyson, who was pushing ahead until he came to the entrance, suddenly became shy about the crowd of people. He turns around to look at me and Trevor and I extend him my free hand which he bashfully accepts.

We enter the patch, taking in the expansive set up. The carnival lights amidst the sunset are simply gorgeous, but Greyson doesn’t care to take in the scenery. He holds my hand tightly, pulling full steam ahead toward a stand that’s pouring warm cider. He watches eagerly before looking up at me and Trevor.

“You wanna try some?” I ask to which he agrees. Grabbing a drink from the booth, I make sure it’s not too hot before handing him the cup. Greyson takes one sip, then cringes and hands it back to Trevor.

“No, thank you!” Trevor and I laugh before he pops off the lid and takes a sip for himself.

“Buddy, you’re insane. That’s amazing,” he then hands me the cup for a sip, and I hum in delight. Trevor gives me a smug look and I shove his shoulder back.

“Mind out of the gutter, Zegras.” Luckily the cider cup is small, so he and I can down it quickly between the two of us. Greyson then gently tugs on the fabric of Trevor’s hoodie to grab his attention. He bends down to talk to Greyson,

“What’s up?”

“Can we go over there?” Greyson asks, pointing to the petting zoo area.

“Sure thing, bud. Is it okay if we hold hands so I don’t get lost in the crowd?” Suddenly inflated by a sense of protection, Greyson nods ‘yes’ and takes Trevor’s right hand to head toward the petting zoo. Standing back up, he takes my hand in his left and leans down to say,

“We should have a baby. Or two.” After the words leave his mouth, I turn to look at him like he’s crazy, only managing to expel a laugh of disbelief. “We’d be great parents!” As I scoff a laugh, Trevor looks genuinely confused as to why I’m amused by his bright idea.

“Trevor, you are twenty-two years old. We are not having a baby any time soon.”

“Good for you!” I hear a stranger's voice call. I turn to see we passed a group of younger gen z kids that were standing by me and my statement. The moment makes me laugh and I look at Trevor.

“We have our hands full at the moment anyway.”

A pen that stands around four feet tall encases a few sheep who are grazing, disinterested in being surrounded by smaller children. Greyson stares at the sheep, fascinated by their dense wool coats. Trevor lets go of my hand to squat down to Greyson’s level.

“Look, bud. The sign says their names are Molly, Blue, and Hudson.”

“Which one is which?” Greyson asks simply, afraid to look away from the sheep in the event that he’d miss a single moment. Trevor begins pointing at the different sheep as I pull out my phone to take pictures for Dani and Troy.

“Well, let’s look at the pictures. That one is wearing a blue ribbon so that’s blue. Hudson’s picture has an orange tag, and that one right there has an orange tag.”

“So that’s Hudson!” Greyson finishes cheerfully.

“You got it! Way to go, buddy!” Trevor holds up his hand and Greyson excitedly high fives him. When he stands up, he takes Greyson’s hand and leads him to the horse enclosure nearby. There’s a bucket of various foods on the side of the enclosure so visitors can feed the horses. Trevor grabs a carrot and demonstrates to Greyson how to feed the horses. Since the horses are much taller than the grazing sheep, Trevor lifts Greyson with ease to hold him right in front of the smallest horse in the enclosure. Greyson carefully follows Trevor’s instructions, and feeds a carrot to the content animal. As he holds Greyson up, Trevor looks at me and smiles, allowing me to snap the cutest photo ever. In finishing the carrot, the horse had licked Greyson’s hand which made him giggle at the sensation.

“Let’s wash your hands before we do anything else, yeah?” Trevor walks with Greyson over to the portable sink. It’s the kind of faucet that requires you to pump a foot pedal to run the water. After it takes him a second to figure it out, Trevor holds Greyson up to the sink and operates the pedal. As Greyson is rubbing his hands together with soap, Trevor runs the water, only for it to stop once Greyson actually places his hands beneath it.

“What the?” The little boy exclaims as the water disappears.

“That’s so weird, why is it doing that?” Trevor says, pretending to be confused, “Try again.”

Greyson does and Trevor repeats the bit once more, and I can’t help but laugh. Looking up, Trevor smiles victoriously at having made me laugh and I swoon a little bit. Greyson catches on and is unable to keep from laughing as Trevor keeps repeating the action.

Once he finally washes up, Greyson leads us to the largest pumpkins in the patch. They’re nearly the same size as him, which translates to needing to climb on them in Greyson’s mind. He sits on the top of the pumpkin happily, and I pull out my phone to snap more pictures for Dani. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Trevor pull out his phone and begin taking pictures of me taking pictures of Greyson.

“Wow, you guys are such a beautiful family,” I hear from behind me. Turning around, an older lady watches the scene unfold with an adoring smile.

“Oh, we’re-”

“Thank you!” Trevor cuts me off. He shoots me a look that says ‘just roll with it’ and I oblige.

“How old are you, young man?” She asks Greyson, who cowers nervously.

“Three and a half,” he says shyly and she smiles comfortingly.

“Wow, you’re so grown up! And how long have you been together, mom and dad?”

“Together for four years, married for three,” Trevor replies seamlessly, as if he’s thought about this before.

“Oh, you’re married! How wonderful. I didn’t see any rings, but I was curious.”

“Yeah, we almost lost them at last year’s pumpkin patch visit, so they’re in the car,” I say with the same nonchalant tone as Trevor. He looks at me, almost impressed with the backstory I’d conjured out of nowhere. I smile and peck his cheek as if we were telling the truth.

“My word, that sounds awful! I’m glad you found them though.”

“Yeah, us too,” Trevor affectionately places his hand on my lower back with a smug smile.

“If you want, I could take some pictures of you all, as a family?”

“Sure!” Trevor says before leading me to sit near the pumpkin Greyson is sitting on. We pose together like a JCPenney portrait session and I’m trying so hard not to laugh. The idea of pretending to be a family is an interesting backstory for these photos.

“Here you are, dearie. You take care now.” The old lady hands me my phone and smiles brightly before turning to her own grandchildren. Once the lady wanders out of earshot I turn to Trevor and inquire, “Together for four years, married for three?”

“A guy can dream, no?”

“Keyword dream.”

“Y/n?” Greyson speaks from atop the large pumpkin.

“Yes, Greyson?” I ask politely.

“Can we get a pumpkin?” I turn to Trevor and raise one brow quizzically.

“What kinda budget are we working with here?” He gives me a nod that suggests somewhere in the mid range. I stand up fully and offer my hand to Greyson, “Sure, but let’s go look at some of the smaller ones okay? I don’t think your parents would be cool with a pumpkin that weighs more than you do.”

“Will you hold me?” Greyson asks, but before I can respond, Trevor picks him up by the legs, dangling him upside down with incredible ease. Greyson screeches with laughter, unable to control the series of giggles.

“Put me down!”

“But I’m holding you! This is what you wanted!”

“No! I want Y/n to hold me!” Trevor flips Greyson around before setting him back down on the ground. Immediately on his feet, Greyson runs over to me and hugs my legs for safety. I pick him up to hold him on my left hip and hug him after he lays his head on my chest.

“You’re safe! He can’t get you now.” Trevor comes up behind me to hug me and Greyson before leaning down to kiss me briefly. After he kisses me, Trevor pulls away slowly until Greyson presses his hand against Trevor’s chest, pushing him away from me. I can’t stop the hearty laugh that escapes me at the gesture and Trevor holds up his hands in appalment.

“What? I can’t kiss my girlfriend?!”

“No!” Greyson fiercely yells back.

“Unbelievable.”

“You should’ve bought me that fancy dinner before it was too late,” I shrug playfully and Trevor scrunches his nose at me in jest. Together, we walk over to a stack of hay bales that display a plethora of mini pumpkins. Looking at the different options, I would pick up a pumpkin to hand to Greyson for his inspection. He rejected some, and pondered others, until we came across one specific pumpkin.

“Look at this one, Grey. It’s white like that one you liked but without the orange stripes.”

“Yeah! That one!”

“And is that because you’re a white supremacist?”

“Uh huh!” My joke is lost on Greyson but Trevor laughs so hard he has to walk away for a moment. When he returns, he’s still laughing slightly, but it’s settled into a sweet smile.

“You’d be a great mom, Y/n.”

“...Shut up.”

“What?! I’m serious.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Y/n-” Greyson begins, but whatever he was about to say is stifled by a lengthy yawn and I check my phone to see the time is 7:32.

“We gotta get you home little buddy.”

“I don’t want to!” He tries to argue as his vision is blocked by drooping eyelids.

“We’ll hang out again soon, bud. I promise.”

“Okay,” He says through another yawn, nearly dropping the pumpkin he had worked so hard to select.

“Trev, can you take him so I can pay?” Trevor then grabs the pumpkin from Greysons tired hand. Holding the pumpkin in his left hand, he takes Greyson to hold him on his right hip. As I go to take the pumpkin from Trevor, he begins walking toward the exit without a word. I curiously follow him and watch as he steps up to the cashier, paying for the pumpkin and supporting Greyson with ease. Observing the moment brings a small smile to my face, and I feel my cheeks flush slightly at the idea of maybe having a family with him down the road.

Only after he pays does Trevor finally relinquish possession of the pumpkin. I hold his free hand in my own as we walk to the parking lot. Trevor brushes the pad of his thumb on the back of my hand and I squeeze his hand gently.

“This was fun.”

“Next time we have Baby Terry I want to plan the date.”

“Gladly.”

“I’m not a baby,” Greyson tries to argue which makes Trevor and I laugh. His eyes are fully closed but he’s still slightly alert. As we reach the car, I use the remote key to unlock the doors, allowing Trevor to place Greyson in his car seat. Once he’s seated and buckled in, Trevor closes the car door. I move to open the driver’s door, but Trevor catches my wrist in his hand and pulls me close. His toned body is pressed flush against mine, dropping his hands to interlace his fingers behind my back. Trevor dips his head down to lovingly kiss me and I kiss back until it dissolves into a smile.

“Still opposed to having a baby?”

“Admittedly, a little less than before, but still opposed.”

“Hmm…” Trevor exaggeratedly ponders my response before lifting one brow, “What about babymaking?”

***

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grandlinedreams · 7 months

Note

childhood friends trope with Law please and thank you <3333 This particular trope always has me in shambles THE INTIMACY?? OR KNOWING EVERY VERSION OF THAT PERSON?? THE INSIDE JOKES? UGHHH And lets not forget the tenderness that comes with knowing that person for years and then some. Good shit. I just want this lonely brooding twink to have something constant in his from from his childhood to adulthood. The softness makes me wanna hurl i love it

YESSSSS i am also such a sucker for childhood friends trope bls I hope I can do this justice for you!!

[Heads up!: fluff, a touch of angst, dressrosa arc spoilers]

He's lucky to not be dead.

You kneel on Law's other side, limp hand in both of yours. You've never seen him so still and quite frankly, you're terrified.

You know you should talk to him, try to keep him tethered here in the land of the living ㅡ but your mind is horribly blank given the chaos still unfolding around you.

Were you more sentimental, you'd beg. A thousand pinky promises and accompanying eyerolls, the smirk you so often threaten to punch him for when he's being insufferable ㅡ you'd take it over this.

"You must care for him quite a bit," Viola says, and you know she's trying to find something to say, to reassure you that Law is going to be just fine. "Are you..."

She trails off, tact where there often is none when it comes to you and Law. Because there's only so in sync you can be with someone else, share looks and understand what the other wants, seemingly operate as two halves of a whole before you get that question.

"No," you say, "we're just friends."

ㅡ

You're a lot more than just friends. That implies that there's been much of a time where you didn't know each other, and there really hasn't. Or that the two of you met through traditional means.

That isn't quite true either. You meet when the world is on fire for the both of you, in ways so similar and yet not.

Grief is such a funny thing when you find comfort in someone who's lost just as much as you. It's easier to tread those dark waves when someone else is threatening to sink with you ㅡ find solid ground in linked pinkies and eyerolls that follow, wide grins made hole-punched by missing baby teeth.

Of course there's also Shachi, Penguin and Bepo ㅡ they aren't far behind you in knowing Law, but it still stands that you've been a constant for longer.

"Of course I'm gonna come with you, idiot," you huff, eyes gleaming with laughter, "who else is gonna put up with you the way I do?"

You don't need to tell him you'd gladly follow him through the gates of hell. He knows, because he'd do the same for you.

There's only one person who knows you better than yourself, and his name is Trafalgar Law. You don't turn as he exits Kyros' house, eyes still skyward as he sinks onto the step beside you.

"The stars are pretty," you remark.

"You should be asleep." Law's eyes narrow when you mouth his words at the same time, and you scoff.

"Last time I checked, I wasn't the one who got shot, then almost lost an arm." Law meets your gaze, then looks away. "I'm not expecting you to apologize, because that isn't how we operate. But we made a promise, didn't we?"

"[Name]ㅡ"

"Law."

Law huffs. "We were kids."

"So? Hasn't stopped us before. As I recall, you've pulled this card on me several times." You hold your hand up, pinky extended. "Do it, Law."

Law stares at you, as thrilled about your tradition as he ever is, but links his pinky around yours. You grin, and he rolls his eyes. "You're a pain."

"Yeah," you answer, scooting closer to settle your head on his shoulder. "You're my pain, and I'm yours. That's how it works, right?"

Law is quiet, undoubtedly still coming to terms with the end of all of this and what it means for him ㅡ catharsis, a shackle unclamped from around his neck. Your hand finds his, fingers braced through the gaps of his, and you squeeze. You don't say a word, and you don't have to.

"Yeah," Law finally answers, lets his head rest against yours. "It is."

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #ㅡanswered.#anonymous

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esouliie · 1 year

Text

– BIKINI BOTTOM

– pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

– synopsis: natasha’s only gone & lost your favourite bikini.

– warnings: hurt/comfort, you’re both such a mess in this lmao

“Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie.”

“Excuse me?”

Friday evening- the night before your holiday.

Natasha took the day off to organise her packing and relax before boarding a 10-hour flight. You've been together for four years and have only gone on vacation once. It wasn't much of one, given that it was cut short by an alien invasion and Natasha was needed. With the redhead being an Avenger, days off were rare. The world always needed saving, for some reason.

After a heated argument and a few silent treatments from you, Natasha finally decided to cash in some holidays with which she promised to take you on your dream vacation to Italy.

“You know what I mean, Natasha! Stop playing dumb!”

So much for relaxing.

“Sweetheart, I really don’t understand what you’re talk-” You storm away, huffing as you move back to your shared bedroom, where you had been packing since this morning.

With a sigh, Natasha gets off the sofa, following in your direction. She inhales deeply - not knowing what version of her girlfriend she’s going to get behind the door- before steeping tentatively into the room.

Clothes. Everywhere. The floor was almost invisible.

You were somehow sat on the bed, half sunk in a hole created from your weight. Natasha moves in, hastily avoiding the piles. Your clothes rustle beneath her shifting weight as she trips on a random belt.

When did you have so many clothes?

She finally reaches you, “Baby, what’s the matter?”

While Natasha is used to your ‘sulky attitude’, it usually doesn’t come with this expression of sadness on your face.

You won’t even look at her.

Her brow burrows. She’s afraid she might’ve actually upset you.

She places a cool hand on your shoulder, softly circling the muscle with her thumb.

“You can talk to me, you know?”

You meet her gaze hesitantly. Pools of worried emerald stare back, delicately wandering over your features.

She waits. Patient as always. Despite the woman’s fear of being a terrible partner, you were in the best relationship of your life. All because of her.

With a sigh, “you promised to give my bikini back after Tony’s party and you still haven’t and I need it for-“

“Are you serious?” Natasha stops rubbing your shoulder, voice harsh.

“Yes it’s the one-”

“You threw a hissy fit about a bikini I borrowed a few months ago?” She scoffs, stepping away from you not caring about the strewn clothes under her feet. “I genuinely thought you were upset.”

“I am upset! It’s my favourite one and I need it for Italy!” You argue, rising to your feet.

Natasha rolls her eyes, “I cannot believe you right now.”

It’s so like you to make a big deal out of something and make her feel guilty for what she’s done, when really you’re just-

“What? It’s not like this is a new thing!”

Natasha pauses, confused as to what you’re getting at. She’s only worn this bikini once.

“You always borrow my clothes! Sometimes without even asking and I lose them and can’t find them when I need them!”

Hand extended, you point to the mess you created.

It’s not your fault. You only made this mess because Natasha doesn’t know how to wear her own clothes.

"Normally, it isn't a problem. I find them wherever you put them, but I haven't seen this bikini in months and..." You pause, not knowing what else to say without sounding enraged.

At a stand- still, you both just stare at each other.

The silence is awkward.

Natasha plays back all the times she's worn your clothes and not returned them.

That one time she wore your heels once and then left them in Tony's penthouse. Or the time she wore your earrings and then left them on Wanda's nightstand after a girls' night out.

She physically recoils into herself, guilt and shame working their way through her bones.

You were right.

“Hey, it’s okay,” resolve completely falling away at the sight of your girlfriend fighting with herself, “I don’t mind you wearing my stuff, Tasha. Really.”

Her figure remains unmoving, despite her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

You had hurt her.

Your breath catches. You wish you never said anything. Fuck the bikini.

You shift towards her, fast enough to not scare her, hand falling against her cold wrist. You guide her back towards the bed. Pushing a pile of socks onto the floor, you seat her next to you.

“Hey.” A soft whisper leaves your lips, a thumb brushing against her wrist.

Her head tilts, glazed red eyes refusing to meet yours.

There are no tears.

Natasha never cries.

“It’s nothing, baby. I have plenty of others.”

She worries at her lip, eyes flittering around at everything except you.

“Please don’t beat yourself up about it.” You croak, voice failing to swallow the lump in your throat.

“I lost it.” She replies.

“I don’t know where I put it and if it’s not here then I must’ve lost it.”

You chuckle lightly, tears blurring your sight. “I know. Your reaction told me so.”

She smiles, before inclining her head towards you. You gently move your hand to her back, tracing patterns down along her spine. In silence, warm fingers flee underneath her shirt as they caress the scar tissue of her hip. The nasty scar from a bullet wound on her latest mission.

Natasha gasps at the touch, and falls deeper into your embrace.

Her lips tremble, and tears touch her skin, but she is not sad. She’s content. Something Natasha has strived for since she could remember.

She lifts her head, following forward into parted lips. Her lips brushed against yours, softly and delicately, like butterfly wings, just long enough for her to inhale your breath and feel the warmth of your skin, and the taste of you lingered long after she was gone.

A tender kiss sealed in adoration.

“Will you help me pack?”

She nods, and with her hands clasped around yours, she forgives herself, just as the day forgives the night, and the future forgives the past.

~~~

taglist: @inluvvwithfictionalwomen @jestercat28 @lol1556732 @truthindreams @me-uglypretty @karmasgxrl @natashasnoodle @thunderinglava @sayah13 @wonderingnerd @cd-4848

#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹#natasha romanoff x reader

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infinityerlingx · 1 year

Text

Baby Fever

erling haaland x (fem)reader

plot - babysitting erling’s nephew has erling’s mind all over the show

genre - fluff

a/n - i do not know the name of erling’s nephew, so he will be called Isaac in this fic :)

part two here !!

part three here !!

You loved babysitting Erling’s nephew, the way his big eyes would stare up at you, with a little toothy grin as you made him giggle. The small boy only being 2 years old, he was beginning to talk a lot and wanted to run around everywhere.

Gabrielle had brought him over to Erling’s apartment one afternoon, with her struggling to find someone to look after him, you were always happy to take care of the little boy. His smile grew as he saw your face, opening his arms to be held by you. Gabrielle thanked you once again before making her way out. Erling was in the kitchen, making some food for Isaac as you brought him into the kitchen to meet Erling. Erling’s face lit up as you passed Isaac to him.

The afternoon was spent in the living room, Isaac on the carpet, multiple toys around him and colouring pages scattered around, Erling sat on the edge of the sofa, watching with a smile as you and Isaac drew pictures together. His mind couldn’t help but wander and think of you doing this with your own child in the future. Erling knew for a fact that he wanted children with you, he just couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Isaac was beginning to get tired, his little yawns made Erling get up from the sofa and pick him up, taking him into the guest bedroom and letting him have a short nap.

“He’s asleep” Erling spoke softly as he wandered back into the living room, finding you on still the floor, picking up Isaac’s toys and cleaning up the papers, before stretching your body and standing back up. You sent him a smile before sitting back onto the L-shaped sofa, getting yourself comfy as Erling joined you, throwing himself down next to you, pulling you into him for a cuddle.

“Glad he’s asleep, tired me out all of this today” You hummed into Erling’s chest.

“I guess it can’t be that bad can it? I mean look how much fun we’ve both had today with him” Erling spoke.

“What do you mean?” You spoke sitting yourself up, watching his face.

“Y/N, you’re so good with him, seeing you with him has 100% made my mind up” Erling spoke seriously. You knew what he was insinuating but you wanted to hear him say it, so you played dumb, not wanting him to catch on with your mind. Your eyebrow cocked making him sigh before speaking again.

“I want a baby with you” Your eyes widened at his confession, even though it wasn’t a surprise, you didn’t think you’d hear them words ever come out of his mouth. “You’re the only person I want to have in the rest of my life. You’re everything to me Y/N, I don’t see myself with anyone but you, I want it all with you, the big house, with 2 maybe 3 little versions of us running around the garden” He carried on, his hand linked with yours. “If that’s what you want, but I really want a baby with you”

“Of course that’s what I want Erling, I want a baby with you too” You spoke and you’d never seen Erling smile so much in his life. His hands on your hips pulling you on top of him, sitting on his lap, he pulled you into a hug. His head tucked into your neck. His arms tight around your waist, your cheek resting against his head. “You’re the only one for me Erling” You spoke softly. Erling squeezed you in response, your heart fluttering at his actions.

Isaac had woken up just less than an hour later, finding you and Erling cuddled up on the sofa, his little arms extended wanting to be included. You picked him up, placing him on your lap, Erling watched you with a smile on his face. It was like you were made to be a mother.

Gabrielle arrived at the apartment after another hour had passed, Isaac jumping up and running straight for his mum. Gabrielle thanked the both of you and you said your goodbyes to her and the little boy, giving him a little kiss on his forehead.

Once the door was locked, Erling had his arms wrapped around your waist, his head on your shoulder, you leant into his touch, resting your back against his strong frame. You let out a deep sigh, your eyes fluttering shut after a long day. Your hands rested on top of his own. Your eyes opened again, turning your head you placed a short kiss onto Erling’s cheek.

“Wanna go get in bed and watch some Netflix?” You questioned quietly, Erling hummed and you felt his head nod. His arms loosening from your waist as he pulled away and walked with you to your shared bedroom. The pair of you getting changed into comfy clothes before getting into the large bed.

After a while the movie was forgotten about, you both lay facing each other, your leg pulled up over his waist, one of his large hands on your thigh, one of your hands resting around his shoulders, playing with his long hair.

“I mean every word I said today, seeing you with Isaac confirmed everything, I know we’re only young but, I mean, I think we’re both ready aren’t we?” Erling spoke “Unless you don’t want to yet, I’m ready whenever you are” He carried on, not wanting to rush you.

“Erling, stop worrying. I think I’m ready” You spoke with a smile. Erling looked at you with widened eyes. “Yeah we’re young but what’s stopping us? Nothing” You assured him.

“I’m so excited min kjære” He spoke softly, leaning down and giving you a long kiss. “Plus there’s one other thing” He said, a smirk making its way onto his lips.

“Hm, what’s that then” You replied, confusion spread over your face.

“You’d look so sexy pregnant, my baby inside of you” He smirked, his hand pushing against your lower stomach making you bite your lip slightly.

“Is that right?” You teased, pressing a small kiss over his Adam’s apple.

“Indeed it is” He replied, looking you up and down, his tongue darting out before kissing you again.

“Let’s do it then” You spoke against his lips, Erling didn’t need any more encouragement, he was bound to make sure that he would do anything to please you and make this the best night for you both.

Next thing you knew you were lay back on the bed, Erling’s large body covering you, his lips on yours and you knew that you were in for an incredible night.

#erling haaland #erling haaland blurb #erling haaland fluff #erling haaland x reader #erling haaland angst #erling haaland fic #erling haaland smut #erling haaland fanfic #erling #haaland

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sysakiddo · 2 months

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I finally edited chapter 6 of diplomacy au y'all! I struggled a bit with a burnout after getting my degree in january lol but hopefully it won't take so long for another chapter to appear!!

ao3, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

“It's like watching the most awkward first date happen in front of your eyes. And you know, of course, that they are not going to fuck.” Max says after taking a long sip of his third gin and tonic.

Everybody who hears him laughs, already watching the couple standing by the bar. Charles tugs his ear in what seems to be a nervous tick while Sebastian casually leans on the chair, even though he is everything but casual. He watches every move of the man in front of him, shuffling his feet a bit when Charles licks his lips after a sip of his skinny bitch.

“Pathetic,” Alex laughs, not unkindly. “It seems to me like there is no salvation for them,” George adds, leaning forward on the couch they all squeezed on to see the show in front of them.

Anne doesn't feel like this is something she can ask them about. That is not to say that she is not terribly curious and confused about how one could refuse Charles Leclerc giving them heart eyes while biting his lips. Instead, she breaches a topic she thinks is a safe zone. “If you think this is tacky, how did you guys meet?”

Daniel looks at his hands immediately, a nervous huff escaping from his lips. He hates telling that story. He rarely ever thinks about that time now unless he really needs to. The swirling of the ice in his negroni makes a loud noise.

Because truthfully, Max met Daniel at his lowest. It was in his LA house, where he spent most of his time, the D.C. office vacant more often than not. They turned up just as the sun was setting, Sebastian and Max. It was the older man who insisted on introducing them.

Daniel straight out refused. He didn't care about Sebastian’s little charity project. It went too far, saving aggressive puppies, Jesus. He did not want to meet anyone named Verstappen when he wasn't paid to do so.

Daniel was barefoot, his swimming trunks still a bit wet. The LV shirt had an obnoxious pink print and it was slipping from his shoulders. It was late enough that he was glowing from the sun, the diamonds on his necklace shining. He looked at the wunderkind, at Max, the youngest ambassador in the US ever.

Max wore a three-piece suit despite the day being too hot for it. His Berlutis were gleaming, and he was straight-up glaring at Daniel.

“Howdy,” he grinned at them. Sebastian assessed Daniel's pupils, shaky hands and a sheen of sweat on his forehead with a grim face. He gave him the pep talk about easing off the drugs just a few days ago. Max extended his hand, and Daniel shook it. It was a reflex. Max’s palm was warm and soft.

Sebastian cleared his throat. “As I told you, Max, this is Daniel-”

“I, of course, know who he is.” Max didn't let Sebastian finish his sentence, coming off unnecessarily rude. Daniel laughed awkwardly.

“Sounds like I'm famous, baby.” he winked at Sebastian and from the corner of his eye, he saw Max visibly cringe.

“We met at work, Anne. Sebastian introduced us when we were all in the USA. He is painfully proud of that, calls himself a matchmaker and everything.” Max huffs out a laugh. He knows Daniel feels uneasy and puts the target on his back to protect him. Like usually.

“Who did the first move then?” Anne asks, just as Charles, who lost Sebastian somewhere on the way between the bar and the table, makes it back to them.

“Oh, Daniel did. It was very romantic.” Max says matter of factly. When Daniel finally looks up, he is surprised to see his eyes foggy, as if he is experiencing the moment for the first time again.

Nevertheless, Daniel huffs, mad that Max always uses his version of the story. “Romantic? You slapped me!”

“Well, it is only right I did,” Max shrugs. “I, of course, thought you were making fun of me.”

Charles giggles, which is honestly progress. He was the one who took the fall, consoling Max after he returned from their dinner, fidgeting with his fingers, two red stains high on his cheeks. His voice sounded like he was eating gravel for dinner when he told him Daniel had kissed him. He was rapidly blinking like he was trying too hard not to cry, and Charles still thought it was the best proof of his professionalism, the fact that he hadn’t laughed to his face right there. But. He locked himself in the bathroom after Max somehow calmed down, turned on the faucet, and laughed hysterically.

Max originally feared Daniel had figured him out and was just playing mind games. He thought Daniel was ridiculing him, or worse, he tried a new technique to manipulate and eventually blackmail him. What enraged him the most was the fact he wasn't prepared for it. He hasn't read a tutorial named what-to-do-when-your-counterpart-kisses-you in any of the assigned readings in the university.

The only emotion Daniel felt when Max slapped him across the face immediately after the kiss was pure humiliation. He couldn't believe he read the signs wrong, him, Daniel Ricciardo. It was unheard of. Plus, Max did kiss him back for a few seconds. But then.

And Daniel felt stupid and walked home alone and got drunk alone and fell asleep alone.

Now, Daniel looks at Max with deep empathy. He squeezes his thigh, smiling.

“Well, that shitshow was still a lot better than Baku,” Charles says with a grimace. That wasn't Max stuttering and rubbing his red eyes furiously; that was Max throwing random things across the room, his scream ricocheting through the whole hotel floor.

Daniel snapped at Charles, “No, we’re not talking about Baku!“ Charles smirked, looking at him with a look that meant trouble. But Daniel has never in his life been scared of Charles. He was such a sweet kid before he fell under Seb’s influence. He takes a second to mourn the version of him he knew before he introduced Seb to him.

“Always you are mad because you don’t want to admit you were wrong. Christian also said you of course did not act according to the protocol.” Max buts in, chronically unable to get over things.

Daniel turns to Max with a stormy expression, the empathy all but gone. “Christian would also suck your dick if you asked, I don't see how his opinion is valid in this situation.” he spits out.

Charles hums, taking another sip of his skinny bitch. “He does seem to touch you an awful lot, when you are together, Max.”

“That’s exactly my point, thank you, Charles.” Daniel is done, scoffing.

Max, however, is just about to start another rant. “But Daniel, I told you your tactic wouldn't work. You pulled out of the negotiations too soon, it was very amateurish from you, you must admit at least that. Who leaves the negotiating table with no backup plan?” he gets into it, flaring his hands around like an octopus. “It just buggs me, you know, that you still blame me. You of course made a mistake, Daniel, and that happens but it was a stupid rookie mistake and you should have apologized-”

Daniel stands up abruptly. “Hey, Max?”

For a frightening second, Anne thinks he is going to deck his husband right there.

Max just hums, looking up. “I love you,” Daniel says surprisingly, bending down and giving Max a loud, smacking kiss. Then he turns around and leaves to the bar to stand next to Sebastian who resurfaced in the meantime.

When Anne looks at Max, he is red as a tomato, glaring at the straw in his drink. “Well, what was I saying-” he stutters, interrupted by the laughter of the men sitting across from him.

“I can't believe this shit is still working out for him, oh my god.” Alex wheezes.

“Manipulative bitch,” George quips, still giggling.

Max is unimpressed. “Don't call him that.” he snaps and glares at him, George shutting up immediately.

Charles looks at Anne and smiles a little. “I think maybe it is time for us to go home. I'm terribly tired. What do you think?”

Anne nods, pointedly not saying anything about noticing how Sebastian kept yawning at his spot beside Daniel.

Daniel doesn't understand why he wakes up at first. It's pitch black, the blackout curtains doing their job properly. He stares at the ceiling for a bit, then closes his eyes to make himself fall back asleep.

“Ik zal het oplossen.” Max meowls in Dutch next to him. “I just need more time! Ik zal het halen, dat beloof ik. No, no!”

It clicks for Daniel, Max's rigged breaths, which he has not noticed before. The night air is suddenly too cold.

He runs his hand up and down Max's forearm, not saying anything but his name to wake him up. When Max snaps out of his dream, his whole body violently twitches, and he slaps Daniel's hand away.

“Hey, it's okay now,” Daniel isn't deterred, his hand finding a way to Max's hair, waiting him out. “It was just a dream. You are safe.”

Max's breaths come out staggering like he just returned from his run. After a few minutes, he finally opens his eyes and looks at Daniel. A macabre grimace is on his face, something that wanted to be a smile.

“I wasn't prepared again, Daniel,” he whispers. Daniel hums, not answering in any way, even though he subconsciously clenches the fist that's not playing with Max's hair.

“You are safe with me,” Daniel says, trying to ease Max's shivering and make the haunted flicker in his eyes go away. He never shared any gruesome details about his time in military school. But. It's not like he had to. “Do you maybe want to take a shower?” he asks him and Max hesitantly nods.

They only fall back asleep when the birds are already chirping outside.

#maxiel #diplomacy au #f1 rpf #f1 fic #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #my ficlets #my writing

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imnotasuperhero · 8 months

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Turn your sadness into a rainbow.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader.

Summary: When your daughter is feeling down, you make it your mission to cheer her up. And if it's with the help of your wife, much better.

A/N: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SIMPLE DRABBLE! But once again, my muses came up with the extended version. So here you have day 3 of Promptober. Hope you enjoy this quick fic.

The closing of the front door had you looking up from your task at hand, sending Wanda a sheepish smile.

"Hello, my love," you greeted her as you extended your arms, waiting.

"Someone is way too happy at… 6:30 am," the brunette raised her sculpted eyebrow as she wrapped her arms around you. "What are you plotting?"

Allowing her to take a look at the scattered colored crayons and the unfinished project in front of you, you leaned against her side, sighing softly. "Ailin was feeling sad last night because you had to rush to work, so I thought about cheering her up." You smiled at the kiss on your cheek.

"What are we working on?" You could hear the confusion in her voice.

"Remember how back in elementary school we did the black painted sheet that showed different colors when you scrapped at it?"

"Sometimes I think you're too good to be true, even if I have no idea your way of thinking." Wanda smiled softly as she grabbed a yellow crayon and started to doodle on the white sheet.

"Just wait and see."

After a few more minutes, you both inspected the work of art and decided it was adequate for a 5-year-old before you covered the colorful drawings in black.

"I was thinking," Wanda broke the comfortable silence as you shared a cup of tea before the chaos of the day busied your day. "We could ask for Nat's cabin? I think it'll be good for the three of us to reconnect as a family?"

Hearing the guilt in Wanda's voice, you couldn't help frowning. "Don't get me wrong, I love the idea. But what's wrong?" You placed the empty cup down before moving to Wanda's chair, straddling her lap.

Sighing, she placed her arms around your waist. "I feel like I'm missing out on her life," the woman blinked rapidly twice, thrice, before she cleared her throat. "And once she knows about the baby," the tear rolling down Wanda's cheek had your thumb brushing it away with a softness you only held for your girls. "And the fact you have to take care-"

Cupping her face, you kissed her wet eyes before you smiled calmly. "She might be young, but she knows how much her mommy loves her, Wands." The pad of your thumbs caressed her wet cheeks. "She understands sometimes her mommy has to be a superhero," you patted yourself at Wanda's small smile.

"Being a doctor has been your dream since I've known you. And I know being a mom has been a challenge. But if you feeling fulfilled means I gotta hold the fort while you're away fighting diseases, then so be it. I make sure Ailin doesn't miss you that much," you winked, pulling a soft chuckle out of her.

The connection between your eyes had you shivering from the intensity of her gaze. But before you could get lost in that oh, so beautiful forest, Wanda hugged you with a force that only served to both; squeeze your heart and fill your lungs. "I couldn't do life without you," she spoke against your neck.

"Ehh… I'm having the bling-bling stuff," you laughed heartily when Wanda pinched your side. "I'm serious. We knew the possibilities and we're doing a great job at handling it."

"I love you, Detka," Wanda vowed softly and you felt as if a heating blanket was placed over your soul.

Before you could respond, the noises coming from the baby monitor on the table had you kissing her lips chastely. "Your baby needs you," you stood up turning off the walkie-talkie, smiling softly as Wanda went to your daughter's room to have a private bonding time.

A few minutes had passed when you heard giggles coming from the hallway, becoming louder and louder the closer your family got.

"Good morning, sunshine," you kissed your daughter's cheek soundly, accepting her hug.

"Mommy is here," her big green eyes shone with a light you'd never get tired of witnessing.

"I told you she'd be back. And she brought you something," you ignored Wanda's confused stare.

"What is it?" The small girl wiggled to be placed on the floor only to start an impromptu treasure hunt.

"Cold," you giggled when she reached for Wanda's bag.

You allowed her to wander for a few moments as you turned to Wanda, wrapping your arms around her neck. "You do the giving, I do the talking," you kissed her nose.

"You'll have dessert tonight." She pecked your lips before she grabbed your hand along the dried black sheet.

"What's this?" Ailin's confused brow inspected the dark paper, looking at you for an explanation after a few seconds.

"Remember what we talked about last night?" You took a dime out of the pocket of your sweatpants. At her nod, you continued. "Mommy wanted to show you a magic trick," you winked before turning to Wanda, who inhaled deeply before taking the coin out of your grip.

"Momma tells me all about you, you know?"

"Even when I'm not nice?" The fear in her features had you biting your laugh.

"Even then," Wanda chuckled softly. "But she also tells me when you feel sad, so I can make sure I can change that when I'm back," your wife patiently explained the knotted words in her mind.

"You see this black paper?" At the girl's nod, Wanda handed her the coin. "Scrap it off," she instructed, and Ailin obeyed her mom's instructions.

But nothing could have prepared you for the reaction you received.

"COLORS!" The toothy smile reflected the mirth she felt as she kept scrapping the sheet, uncovering the doodles you and Wanda had drawn before. "Mommy, look! There are colors!" She turned to your wife, who had unshed tears in her soft eyes.

"There are a lot of colors," she smiled and you felt alienated enough to interfere in such a delicate moment, so you just observed the scene unfold in front of you with warmth filling your insides.

But at Wanda's inability to keep speaking without crying, you took charge of the situation, squeezing her hand in support.

"That magic happens all the time, munchkin." You placed a hand on your daughter's shoulder, giggling when she extended her arms for you to pick her up.

"Whenever you feel sad, make sure you look for something colorful and you'll feel better,"

"Any color?" The kid asked interested.

"Any color you see. Let the comfort protect you from the sadness." you saw how your daughter processed the information she's just got.

"Can I see colors in people?" At her words, you exchanged a look with Wanda, who was equally confused as you.

"I suppose that's possible, yes."

"Okay, because I think of green when I see you."

"Oh, yes?" you tilted your head intrigued by her thinking, but saved it for another time. "And what color is Mommy?"

Ailin's eyes shifted from you to the woman sitting beside you as she pursed her lips, inspecting her mother for a moment.

"Mommy is orange!" She smiled cheekily.

It was Wanda's turn to tilt her head, curiosity written all over her face. "Why orange?"

"Because your hugs are warm like the fire," she explained nonchalantly and you felt your heart somersault Wanda's expression. So full of pure love and amazement.

"I love you, my baby." She took Ailin off your lap, holding her tight against her chest.

"I love you too, mommy."

Leaning down against the back of the couch, you basked in the realization that no matter how busy Wanda got, she would always have time for your daughter and that no matter what, the bond they shared was something unbreakable.

But it wasn't until later that day, when you were on your way back from the store, that your daughter healed the cracks in your heart once again.

"Mom, look!" The girl ran towards a pile of fallen leaves. "Can I bring it to mommy?" She showed you the orange leaf in her small hands, and you felt your heart grow ten times.

"She would love that," you smiled softly, making a mental note to have some tissues at hand when you had to comfort Wanda from her intensified emotions tonight.

It was right then, right there, that you made it your mission to shield them from the cruelty of life. Now more than ever, you made sure Ailin would always have her rainbow to fight her darkness.

Taglist: @wandabear @red1culous @xxxtwilightaxelxxx (If you want to be tagged in all of October's stories or just all my stories in general, let me know!)

#wanda maximoff x reader #promptober #day 3 #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #vee writes

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angelllbby222 · 1 day

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Conflicted Chapter 19🎀:

Maddy P.O.V

We arrived at a small gig that Guns N’ Roses were set to play, shortly after 8 p.m since they usually always played an hour later than scheduled.

Everyone got their instruments set up as they hopped onto the bar stage tuning their guitars and warming up, to play an acoustic version of “Mr. Brownstone” , “Sweet Child O’ Mine” & many others.

Axl and Izzy were planning on doing a duet for Paradise City but Axl stormed off, leaving Izzy clueless.

“The fuck is your deal.” the Indiana native spat, giving Axl a dirty look as Axl went about his business ignoring him and doing some vocal warmups.

“Baby just ignore him. I think he’s just a bit on edge.” I said rubbing his back.

“I think I’m gonna puke seeing you too.” Axl snarked rolling his eyes at us, moving his chair to the other side of the stage by Slash, taking the microphone with him.

“We need to do a duet and the microphone has to be in the middle of the stage.” Izzy told him, snatching his chair and tugging it back in the middle.

“I don’t need you. My voice is perfect on its own.” he smirked, grabbing the chair and planting it back on the other side of the stage.

"Shut up fuckers, we’re on in 5 minutes." Duff yelled, suffering from a severe headache brought on by yesterday night's partying, which Axl and Izzy intensified.

“Wait! I forgot my drumsticks.” Steven chirped scurrying backstage.

“Great.” Axl retorted, slumping down into his chair.

"Axl!" I heard a girl shout from behind the stage, sitting on a stool, along with other seating configurations on a platform above, with stairs leading down to the stage where the rockers would be performing soon.

She had long curly brown hair, that made her blue eyes pop and a voice that seemed hardly audible even when she shouted.

“Erin baby, you came.” Axl grinned blowing her a kiss.

"Baby?" I wondered, curious about when they got back together and why he would talk to me if he had a girlfriend.

“Jealous?” he smirked, seeing my confused expression which quickly turned sour upon seeing his smug attitude.

“Jealous!” I scoffed, correcting him by saying how disappointed I was.

“Your not my mother…..although if you wanted-

“Okay stop it.” Duff grimaced putting his hands over his ears.

“You guys are not going to treat my sister like one of your groupie whores and take turns with her.”

“Who said we’re taking turns?” Izzy countered, raising an eyebrow at Axl, wondering if anything had happened between the lead singer and the young girl whose heart he had stolen.

“Nothing happened between me and Axl!” Maddy huffed, causing everyone to look at her sudden outburst, stomping her feet as she went up the stairs to sit next to the quiet girl she had observed from earlier.

“Hi. I’m Maddy.” I smiled sweetly, extending a hand out to the bright eyed girl next to me.

“I’m Erin.” she smiled, giving off a soft vibe like she wasn’t a threat and seemed like a sweet girl who didn’t even look like she belonged with the hard rock singer, with her simple outfit.

"Your Duff's…….sister?" She queried, narrowing her eyes at me.

“How did you know.”

“You both have the same mannerisms and are really sweet.” she explained, with the same warm grin.

I returned the smile and got along well with her as the boys performed their songs perfectly, which surprised me given the circumstances from earlier.

One thing I had noticed about Axl and Izzy was that no matter how much they hated each other at times, they made sure to make each other look good while performing, not allowing one person to shine alone but equally sharing the spotlight, which is why they had been friends for so long because they respected and cared for each other deeply.

I hated seeing them fighting and was happy to know that they got along for the show and even hugged it out on stage, not that Izzy was an affectionate guy but Axl was and he made sure to show out for his loved ones.

“You guys were great!” Erin and I squealed rushing down the steps to give each of our guys a hug.

“Thanks Maddy.” Axl cockily grinned, putting his arm around Erin as she ignored the obvious looks he was giving me.

“Come on let’s go.” Izzy muttered, throwing his arm around my waist and placing a kiss on my shoulder, walking me backstage.

“Erin seems like a very sweet girl. I’m glad Axl found someone like her.”

“Yeah. He needs more than her to save himself.”

I didn’t inquire further, nodding, since Axl was a touchy subject.

“I wanna talk about you.”

“What about me?” I giggled, suddenly nervous by the way he was looking at me while he had me pinned between his hands, leaned back against the wall.

I felt my face flush as his hand went to rest on my cheek, running his thumb across my glossed lips, pressing down on the middle of them to form a pout around his thumb and teasing it inside.

“Suck it.” he demanded.

I gradually sucked on his thumb, moving it in and out between my puffed up lips remaining eye contact with him as I pulled off with a pop before spitting on it like he spit in my mouth and letting it drip down, collecting it all before it splattered on the ground beneath us, licking around as I evenly spread the wetness, taking it all the way, bobbing up and down and releasing to kiss his lips with a trail of spit connecting my lips to his thumb.

“Does my baby want my cock that badly that she has to make a mess all over my thumb?” he asked, kissing my lips, engulfing the trail of spit and releasing with a wet smack.

“Yes please. I want your cum. I want it all over my tits and my pussy, an-and all over my body.” I whimpered, as he snaked a hand down my body to aggressively rub my pussy over my panties in fast circles.

“Get on your knees.” he spat yanking on my hair to pull me down, on my ass, letting my legs fold on the ground in a “W” , so I could have my pussy against the ground to rub against.

I grabbed his cock and spit on it letting out a big bubble and blowing on it, creating tiny bubbles and rubbing my lips across it like it was a lip product, back and forth before kissing the tip.

"Take it down your fucking throat." He groaned growing tired of my teasing as he bucked his hips forward pushing my head down, causing me to choke and tear up, forcing him to let go, and let me cough it out before thrusting his cock back down with no remorse, gathering my hair in a messy ponytail to move up and down his hardened length.

I let go of his cock with a sputter, his precum mixed with my spit pouring down onto my tits, as I rubbed it in to give him a show, watching him jerk off in front of my face.

“Such a fucking slut for my cock. You just turn into a little bitch for it.”

“Only for you Izzy. I love being a slut for your big cock.” I replied, giggling as I licked a stripe up his cock while he stroked it over my face.

“Get up I wanna fuck you now.” he grunted pulling me off the floor by my underarms like a rag doll and flipping me around to face the wall, roughly pulling my skirt down, forcing me to stick my ass out for him, while standing on my tippy toes since he was significantly taller than me.

My sneakers squeaked against the ground as he pushed into me from behind wrapping one arm around my waist to keep me firm on his cock while the other pinned my arm up against the wall.

I gasped, arching my back as my pussy became ten times wetter, hearing the lewd noises of his cock entering in and out of my pussy.

“Be fucking quiet.” he growled in my ear.

“You don't want your brother to find us and witness me fucking his baby sister like the desperate little whore she is, would you?”

I loved hearing his perverted comments, enjoying how dirty he made me feel.

“I think you would love it if everybody were to see the cockdrunk slut you are." he spat, causing me to sob.

“I-Iz!” I squealed feeling pleasure waves throughout my body as his cock repeatedly poked against the spongy region of my pussy, making my eyes roll back and incoherently blabbering over and over again about how big his cock was.

“I said be fuck-ing quiet.” he hissed going deeper with his thrusts, moving his hand from my waist to my mouth covering it tightly.

I moved my hand over his, desperately trying to hold onto something as I felt my orgasm approaching and my legs going weak while he pounded into me faster.

“I-I’m gonna cu-cum.” I whined, muffled by his large hand, before he moved it abruptly to rub my clit as I let out a big squeal feeling a gush of liquid release out of me while I tried to stay on my tippy toes with my legs that were now worn out and shaking.

“Shit shit s-shit. Fuck-k yeah baby give it to me. Give me all your fucking cum.”

I squealed pushing Izzy away as I felt very sensitive coming back down from my high.

He pulled himself together while I stayed still trying to catch my breath after squirting.

“That was so hot baby. Did it feel good?” he asked as he buried himself in my neck.

“Y-Yes.” I breathed out, looking down my leg, and seeing his cum spill out.

I reached down my body, whimpering at the feeling of pushing his leaking cum back into my sensitive pussy.

“I would fuck you again but we have to catch up with the guys. Your brother is probably wondering where you went.” he sighed moving his hair out of his face.

I fixed myself and ran my fingers through my hair making sure there were no knots.

“Why don’t you go fix your face in the bathroom while I see what they’re up too?” Izzy suggested, seeing my red stained cheeks and smudged makeup.

“Okay.” I smiled reaching up to give him a kiss as he walked off.

I ventured off into the quiet bathroom fixing my face by running a wet napkin over my smudged mascara and reapplying lipgloss to my swollen lips, when I saw Angela walk in.

The same Angela that used to be Izzy’s favorite groupie.

What was she doing here?

“Hey Maddy!" She grinned, in the fakest voice I'd ever heard.

“Hi.” I responded, meekly.

“You look like you’ve been having fun. Who’s the lucky guy?” she smirked.

“Let me guess. Axl?”

“Axl? No. I’m with Izzy.” I reply, annoyed at her attempt to small talk answers out of me.

She appeared perplexed at first, but then lifted her brow, staring down at her hands as she played with the crusted nail polish.

“So you both are like official now?” she asked, the fake voice suddenly replaced by a bitter tone.

“Yes.” I blushed thinking about earlier while re-applying some fresh coats of mascara.

“Well I think that is very brave of you.”

“What do you mean brave?” I asked.

“Y’know….Izzy’s history with women and all.” she exhaled.

“Izzy is a changed man.” I sighed, annoyed by her false propaganda of trying to deter me away from him.

“I've heard Axl is in love with you." she spat, prompting me to halt in the middle of applying mascara and turn to face her with the wand in hand.

“What told you that?” I hissed, wondering if Axl was going around telling everyone our business.

“Erin Everly, his girlfriend.”

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impishjesters · 6 months

Text

Under the Weather

Rhett (tadc OC) x Sick Reader

warning(s): none, just sweet cute shit A/N: I forget how we got on the topic, but my friend and I were chatting about a sick reader and Rhett feeding them soup and this... was just so fucking funny to me I had to write it. His first debut and I'm already bullying him, I'm sorry my dear. (Also hehe, the reader got a lil virus, you poor baby)

“A-a-achoo!”

A dribble of snot ran down your face and was quickly wiped up with a tissue. “I know you caught a little bug, but I’m starting to think it might be a bigger bug than Caine anticipated.”

“Nuh-uh..” You sniffled, gently batting his hand away to take the tissue. After blowing the gunk away and bundling the tissue up, Rhett extended his hand. Your face scrunched up in disgust at the idea of putting your snot-filled tissue into his hand. “I’ll be fine.”

Rhett looked you up and down, taking in your disheveled appearance. “Clearly.” You gave a weak swat to him and he easily caught your hand, stealing the icky tissue and tossing it in the bin. “How about you lay here and rest, and I make you a nice bowl of hot soup, yes? It’ll help soothe your throat, give you something light in your tummy, and help get all that icky snot out.”

Some soup did sound pretty good right now. You aren’t sure about how well it would help. The bug part was quite literal after all, so unless that soup had some magical bug-be-gone data in it, it wouldn’t do any good. But your boyfriend was being such a gentleman and it was clear as day that he wanted to take care of you—like he always did.

Maybe you’d humor him this one time and let him pamper you.

“Okay,” his center eye widened in surprise, you usually put up a fight.

“Okay?” he repeated.

“You can make me some soup and I’ll lay back and rest.”

The pupils in two of Rhett’s eyes turned into hearts, doing a silly little side-to-side dance before returning to normal. It was weird when you first saw it, his eyes acting so independently from one another—as if they had a mind of their own. Until it happened again, and it only took a bit of piecing together that it was a happy reaction.

With a lack of face to show his emotions, his eyes would quite literally be the windows to his soul—and emotions.

You still aren’t very proficient at reading him very well though.

He moved the tissue box closer and pulled the blankets up and under your chin, tucking you in. “I’ll be back before you know it.” The lower eye closed as he leaned down, giving you his version of a pseudo kiss.

Rhett left, leaving you alone in bed with the lights dimmed.

You drifted on and off until the sound of the door woke you up, your boyfriend’s body creating an unsettling headless shadow that nearly startled you. Still getting used to that.

“Ah, I’m sorry did I wake you, dear?” One hand held a bowl of soup while the other closed the door behind him before making his way toward your bed. “I tried to be quick, but you know Bubble trying to help only to further prove a nuisance.”

A hoarse little giggle left you before making you cough. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

He set the soup aside and sat on the bed, fluffing pillows up behind you before helping you settle into them. Once you sunk back into the pillows he simply sat there for a moment, taking in how cute you looked before snapping out of it. Right, soup first, admire later.

Rhett grabbed the soup, stirring it before lifting the spoon full of broth. A classic chicken noodle soup, if your nose can be relied enough on to go based on smell alone. He held the spoon up ready to blow on it and froze, was something wrong? You whisper his name, throat too sore.

The spoon was placed back into the bowl and brought back up, he froze again and all several eyes stared intently at the spoon in hand. Each eye was wide, staring at the spoon as if it threatened to kill his dog.

“Rhett…?” He was starting to worry you now. “You don’t have to feed me I can—”

“N-nonsense..! It’s still hot after all.” he cleared his throat, central eye focused on you while the other continued to stare intently at the spoon. “I-I’m sorry my love, I.. I seem to have made a slight miscalculation.”

“Miscalculation?” You sat up slowly, using the pillows as a crutch, and glanced at the seemingly normal bowl of soup. “What’s wrong with it? Did Bubble do something?”

“N-no..” Rhett shifted uncomfortably when your gaze moved from the soup to him. Lowering the bowl to his lap he looked away in a way that could only be conveyed as nervously. “I wished to feed you the soup but.. it’s hot..”

“Well yeah,” you grumble, clearing your throat. “It’s soup, fresh soup… it’s gonna be hot. I don’t—”

Hot soup. Feeding you. His words repeat in your head again and again, he wanted to feed you but it was too hot—oh. That poor baby couldn’t blow on the soup.

“I-I can feed myself, it’s okay!” You push forward and reach for the bowl just for Rhett to pull it just out of reach. “Sweetie, it’s okay. Really.”

Rhett doesn’t look at you, in fact, none of his eyes are looking remotely in your direction. He didn’t think this out—he of all people didn’t have the foresight to realize the error in his romantic gesture. He failed to take into consideration that with no mouth it meant he couldn’t simply blow on the hot soup before feeding you every spoonful.

While Rhett was having his moment, you cautiously took the bowl from his hands and set it on the side table. One eye flicked to you before immediately looking away, okay so he was slightly aware despite having his little realization.

He moved before you could, turning his back to you and face-planting directly into the bed sheets. You expect his groans to be muffled but they aren’t, he’s just groaning and muttering to himself along the lines of ‘how stupid’ he is.

It’s a little dramatic but he is a romantic. So he puts his heart into everything when it pertains to you or the ones he cares about. But you can’t help but find a bit of joy in his torment, the usual big-hearted gentleman reduced to whines and groans all because he couldn’t blow on your soup.

What a fuckin goober, god you love him.

“Rhett… Look at me.” He groaned, refusing to move from his little self-pity moment. “At least give me one eye?” Another groan but this time one of his eyes looked your way. It was creepy watching the eye completely rotate around like that, at least he did what you asked.

“You know I don’t think less of you for this right? Not being able to blow on my soup, it’s not the end of the world.”

“I know dear, I just—it was such a perfect plan. Spoon feeding you soup until you were full, then watching you get sleepy with a full tummy.” Was he describing a kitten or a person? “Then I’d just climb in bed with you and hold you close and keep watch while you rested. It was supposed to be perfect,” he whined.

You rolled your eyes, fully aware of the singular squinting eye judging your eye-roll. “So one little thing went wrong, I can still eat the soup on my own—” he whined, “fine you can feed me, I’ll blow on my soup and we can cuddle afterward. It’s not completely ruined.”

Rhett lifted his head slightly. “It’s only ruined if you let it be ruined.” You added.

“Fine… I suppose that’s an acceptable agreement.”

A convenient tickle hits your throat causing you to cough, Rhett leaps up nearly knocking you back in the process only to steady you. “I’m sorry, your throat must feel awful. Here.” The soup is back in his hands in no time, by this point the soup should’ve cooled down enough to render blowing on it pointless.

The first few spoonfuls are consumed messily, Rhett wiping up every dribble with a napkin before carefully feeding you more. By the bottom of the bowl, you felt stuffed, the soup was light, more focused on the broth than the noodles and you were grateful for it.

He gave your mouth another gentle pat of a napkin before setting the bowl aside. You lied down with his help, getting snuggled under the blankets before patting the spot beside you. Rhett hesitated before removing his shoes, slipping under the blankets with you.

You let him get comfortable before practically draping yourself over him, laying half on him with your leg thrown over his. He made your bed look tiny with his taller body, but managed to easily lift you and scoot himself further into your bed. If you were going to use him as your mattress he wanted to ensure that neither he nor you would risk falling off.

Not that he’d let you of course. You were going to rest and he was going to keep a vigilant eye—eyes, out while you rested.

Rhett let a hand idly rub at your back, his central eye gazing down at you. “Rest easy my dear. You’ll feel better in no time.”

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader #the amazing digital circus oc #tadc oc #tadc original character #original character x reader #rhett oc x reader #tadc rhett (oc)

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thewayofthemandalorian · 2 years

Text

nothing new - oneshot

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Rating: M

Summary: After helping him with yet another breakup, your already fragile friendship with Dieter Bravo nearly reaches its breaking point.

Word count: 5,164

Notes: I’m back a little bit early! This idea came to me the other day and I wanted to write it ASAP. There is angst in this and Dieter’s a shitty friend, but he makes up for it. In this version he’s not an actor but a trust fund baby, but is still a mess.

This fic is cross-posted to AO3 under the same name and my taglist can be found linked in my bio as well as my masterlist which is linked below.

Warnings: Loneliness, angst, friends to lovers, food mention, alcohol mention, jealousy, swearing, bad friendships, arguments, kissing, reference to sex, reference to drugs

masterlist (main) || masterlist (dieter bravo)

“Why would she break up with me, though?” Dieter asks, shoveling a massive bite of ice cream into his mouth. It’s four in the morning. You’ve been in crisis mode for the past six hours. It seems like your job is saving Dieter from crisis and not his best friend most days. After four years it’s getting a bit tiresome. But you do it all the same. Even if he never does the same for you. It’s not about that.

You know exactly why Anika Novik, his girlfriend of the past–you rack your brain–six months (Dieter’s personal record since college, where his longest relationship had been a whopping ten months), broke up with him. It’s the same reason all of his girlfriends and boyfriends break up with him, or he with them. You’re not going to tell him why, not wanting to rock the boat. “Did she say why?” you ask instead.

Dieter shakes his head and grabs a Kit-Kat from his pocket. Breaking it, he puts them in his bowl of ice cream. Well, there are other, more self-destructive ways that Dieter can and has dealt with breakups. Lord knows you’ve seen all of them. You should be grateful that he’s eating his feelings and not snorting them or fucking them away like he has in the past. “She said I needed to be more sensitive. Whatever the fuck that means.”

You hold your tongue, knowing exactly what Anika means. Dieter’s not known for being the most… tactful of people. Especially when it comes to his partners. You know he’s just looking for a connection, that you maybe shouldn’t be this hard on him, even mentally. But sometimes he’s even been not so sensitive towards you.

It’s been an odd friendship that you and Dieter have. You’re always willing to drop everything for him because he’s usually a good friend when he puts in the effort. Usually.

You look at the time and sigh internally. “I’d love to stay up and chat more and figure out the mystery that is women’s minds, but I have to be at the courthouse in like four hours.”

Dieter rolls his eyes. “Of course you do. You and work.”

You have no idea what the fuck that means. “Yes, Dieter. Not all of us are trust fund babies.”

Dieter pushes himself off his chair. “Okay, you go sleep or do whatever it is you need to do. I’ll take care of everything here and head out.”

You narrow your eyes. He’s never taken care of anything in his life. But you’re too tired to make that argument. Shuffling off to bed, you know it’s not going to be easy getting to sleep. It never is when Dieter decides to show up. You can go days, full weeks even, when he doesn’t contact you. At first, he’d been on you all the time. Claiming to be best friends and everything. But as time’s passed, you’re beginning to realize more and more that you’re the backup friend. The failsafe in case no one else wants to deal with his ass.

For all the liveliness Dieter Bravo has, he sure has a knack for making you feel lonely when you’re with him.

It’s an endless cycle with him, a revolving door of being ignored or looked over for extended periods of time and thinking that you need to drop his ass like so many of your other friends have suggested. But when he does remember, when he does deign to talk to you and hang out with you, he makes you feel like the greatest person in the world. Most of the time.

You don’t know what to do. But this has been your life for six years. Since senior year of college. Always the life of the party, even then. The two of you have been in each others’ lives ever since; he even helped pay for your law school degree. And it wasn’t long before you noticed his revolving door of partners. You don’t know if it’s because you planted yourself firmly in the friendzone and made him perfectly aware, but he never once has hit on you or suggested that you try the whole dating thing with him. And then he would disappear or only interact with you when he felt like it. When he didn’t have anyone else to talk to.

And you’re a giver. You have been since you were a little girl. Having a need to please everyone. You give and give and give and give until you have nothing left. And Dieter is a taker.

You hear the door shut as Dieter leaves.

When you get up a few hours later, the kitchen is as exactly as you left it.

- - - -

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury –”

Buzz. Buzz.

You attempt to continue in your closing statement. “My client, Tara Potts –”

Buzz. Buzz.

You glance at the Assistant District Attorney, who is also your friend and can clearly hear your phone. She shakes her head. Keep going, Jen mouths, giving you a thumbs up.

The buzzing in your pocket stops. And then it starts again. Sighing internally, you just hope that no one else can hear it. And that it doesn’t try to jump out of your skirt’s pocket.

Once the jury has been sent to deliberation, you pull out your phone. You have twelve new texts and three missed calls from Dieter. Jesus Christ.

“Heyyyy,” he says when you call him back.

You’re not in the mood. “You know not to call me when I’m in court,” you snap. It’s the one rule that you have that’s hard and fast. You’re still the most junior attorney in the firm, you need to prove yourself. You’re glad that Jen, the ADA and partner in the firm, is also a long-time friend.

“Cool your jets, ace attorney,” Dieter chuckles. “Was just going to see if you wanted to go to that new bar that opened up tonight. We can be each others’ hype man. I’m ready to go on the prowl again.”

You hold back your sigh. It’s been over a week since you last saw Dieter. You try not to miss him when he’s too busy to talk to you. “Isn’t it a bit too—?”

“Too soon?” he interrupts. “Anika didn’t love me. And I didn’t love her. I thought I did. But maybe that’s why she ended things. It wasn’t meant to be.”

You refrain from reminding him that he’s said that about his last seven partners. “I guess. It’ll have to do with the case.”

You also don’t know if you can stand being Dieter’s hype-woman. He never hypes you up in the way that you want or need him to. Never talks you up the way you talk him up. It always ends the same. Maybe tonight will be different though.

You almost believe it.

“That’s a yes, right?”

You exhale. “Fine.”

Boundaries are something that come easy to you when it’s other people. You’re able to establish them well, firmly setting them in place. Once upon a time, it had been the same with Dieter. But he’s not a person who’s been told many times in his life. And then there’s the other thing.

You’ve been in love with him for the past year. And you know if you move out of your self-imposed friendzone, it’s only a matter of time before he drops you.

Jen would tell you to dump his ass regardless. She and Nikki, the paralegal for the firm, have both made their opinions of your ersatz friendship with him very clear. “He’s using you, babe,” Nikki had told you over cocktails last week when you had vented to them at happy hour. “You’re like his own personal emotional support toy.” She frowns. “I don’t know where I was going with that. You know what I’m trying to say.”

You had frowned. “It’s not like that,” you argued. Your argument was weak, even to your ears.

“Yes! You won’t regret it.” You already do a little bit. Because he won’t even consider you. You know that’s partially your fault. But even if he does, it’s only a matter of time until your novelty will wear off as a prospective partner.

You spot Jen across the foyer. “Hey, are you busy tonight?” you ask, falling into step next to her.

“Family thing with my cousin, why?”

Playing cool, you shrug. “No reason. Just wondering.”

Her eyes narrow at you. “You have that look. The ‘I just talked to the dumbass and he got me to do something for him’ look.”

She’s too smart for her own good. “He’s not a dumbass,” you say.

“No. Just an asshole who’s using you. What is it this time? No, don’t tell me. I need to go into this vacation calm and collected.”

Can’t say you blame her. “It might be different this time,” you say.

Jen gives you the look she reserves for the very dumb witnesses and defendants taking the stand. “Girl. You’ve been saying that for the past year. Possibly more.” Changing tacks, she says, “Listen. It sucks. He sucks. Friends are supposed to build each other up not make you feel like shit. You’re amazing at defending the innocent. You’re so good with putting others first. But it isn’t selfish to put yourself first every now and again.”

You absorb her words. “Have a good weekend with your cousin,” you say.

- - - -

Your uber pulls up at the club at eight-fifteen. As always, you’re here first. Dieter will either be right behind you or be hours late or forget entirely. You snag a table and order a whiskey sour. Something tells you you’re going to need it.

Nursing your drink, you take in the crowd. It’s probably too early to get a definitive vibe of the crowd. Most folks probably won’t come until later.

Jen’s words from earlier stick in your brain. It wouldn’t hurt to re-establish some boundaries. You can tell him how you feel. How lonely you feel in his presence. How you feel like the failsafe, the backup. The afterthought. And if he doesn’t like it, well then too bad.

Easier said than done.

As you’re ruminating, you feel a pair of eyes on you. Glancing across the room, you see a man at the bar. He’s cute. Tall, dark hair, the beginnings of a beard. He catches you watching him watch you and he raises his glass to you. You return the gesture and he makes his way over to your table.

“No woman as pretty as you should be drinking alone,” he starts.

Your face warms. “I’m not alone,” you counter, gesturing at him. “But also I’m waiting for my friend.”

The man frowns at your pinched expression at the mention of your friend but he doesn’t know you. “Well, I’ll keep you company until he shows up. Unless I’m way out of line here. You’re well within your rights to tell me to fuck off.”

You laugh. “I am a lawyer so I’d do it in legal jargon.”

“Cute and smart. You got a name, or should I just call you Ally McBeal?”

You laugh and tell him your name, and he’s about to tell you yours when Dieter arrives. “Hey,” he says, his voice hard.

“Oh, hey, Deet. This is…” you gesture to the man sitting in what’s supposed to be Dieter’s seat.

He looks between you, sensing something off. But he’s not going to say anything to this woman he just met. “Matt. You must be the friend.”

“Yeah. I’m the friend.”

What’s got him in a mood tonight?

“Well, Ally, it was nice to meet you. You, too, dude.” The man gets up from his seat, pushing a napkin towards you.

Dieter takes no time in taking the seat that Matt just vacated. You pick up the napkin and fold it over and over again. “What’s wrong with you?” you ask.

“That guy is a perv.”

You scoff. “Dieter, I’m a lawyer. I think I would have picked up on that if that were the case. He was just keeping me company while I was waiting for you.”

“Yeah, guess you don’t need my help hyping you up,” he mutters. And it stings.

Dieter’s needy. Always has been. You could be the peacekeeper, the placater, but you remember Jen’s words. “That’s why we came here, right? So you could go on the prowl. Never said anything about me not going on the prowl either. Also, I need to talk to you about something.”

A waiter comes to the table to take Dieter’s order. “A double whiskey. Neat.”

You remember Dieter when he was a good friend. And you miss that time in your life. “Dieter.”

His eyes land back on you. “Yeah?” The waiter comes back with Dieter’s drink and his eyes wander around the room again, landing on a girl sitting in the corner with a group of friends. “Holy shit.”

“What? What is it?” Fearing the worst.

Dieter turns his attention back to you for the briefest of moments. “That’s Kate Grimley. She’s the perfect girl for me,” he proclaims. “Could you imagine her and I as a power couple? Her showing up on my arm at events?” His eyes glaze over at the image he’s presented. And for a second, you’re glad that you and he don’t have a chance.

“I don’t think that’s the best reason to ask someone out. I hardly think she’d want to be a trophy.”

Dieter waves you off and takes a drink of his whiskey. “Yeah, right. She’s the perfect girl for me. What did you wanna talk to me about?”

You’re not going to sweep it under the rug, not going to bottle it up. “Never mind. It’s nothing. Why don’t you go talk to her?”

Goddammit.

He nods and, taking his whiskey with him, goes over to the girl’s table. Leaving you alone. Again. He seems to hit it off with her pretty quick. He doesn’t need you to be his wingwoman. Ordering an uber, you close your tab and look down at the napkin in your hands. It has writing on it you notice. A phone number.

You put it in your purse and slink out of the club without so much as another glance in Dieter’s direction.

On the ride home, Dieter’s text tone goes off. Where’d you go? :(

For the first time in your friendship, you leave it on read.

- - - -

Over the next few weeks, you only answer Dieter’s texts here and there. You keep avoiding his requests to hang out, claiming to be busy with a case. It isn’t a complete lie. It’s Jen’s case, but you’re pitching in as well. And in your down time, you hang out with Jen and Nikki and begin to prioritize yourself.

One day when you’re cleaning your apartment, something you’ve put off for a while, there’s a knock on the door. Turning off your audiobook, you go to the door, looking through the peephole. It’s Dieter, holding two Starbucks cups.

You sigh and open the door. The vacuum had been on just a second ago so he knows you’re here. “Hey.”

“Did I do something?” he asks. “You barely talk to me anymore.”

Opening and closing your mouth several times in quick succession, you flounder for an answer. “I’ve been busy with work, you know that.”

“No, don’t give me that bullshit. I miss my best friend and we hardly hang out anymore. We used to all the time.”

A lump forms in your throat. You thought this version of Dieter had been gone. The version that cared about his friends beyond just using them. “I’m sorry,” you say and then immediately curse yourself. You have nothing to apologize for.

“It’s all good. I know you’re busy with becoming the best attorney LA’s ever seen. Doesn’t mean we can’t chill in the down low.” He holds up a cup. “Brought you your favourite.”

He sits on the couch with you, and you chat about things that aren’t deep. “How are things going with Kate?” you ask.

Dieter grumbles something and swirls the coffee around in his cup. “She’s too busy to date at the moment. She’s going to let me know when something in her schedule clears up, though.” He takes a sip and says, “I don’t think she realizes what she’s missing out on. She’s giving me the run-around.”

You rub your eyes in annoyance. “Try giving her the benefit of the doubt. She didn’t say no. She said not just now.”

“Yeah. Maybe you’re right. It’s only been a few weeks. And she’s still responding to my texts and everything.”

He leaves shortly after that, having to go to a board meeting. As you return to your cleaning, you find the napkin that has Matt’s number on it. Fuck it.

Hey, I know it’s been a while. It’s “Ally McBeal.”

The three dots pop up almost immediately.

A week later and some more strong communication with Dieter, you find yourself at a cafe with Matt. You didn’t tell Dieter about this. He doesn’t need to know. Jen knows all about it though.

Dieter presses the call button, strolling down the sidewalk, eager to tell you his news.

The ringing of your phone interrupts your story. “Sorry, I’m just going to see who it is.” You pull the phone from your purse. It’s Dieter. “Not important. They can leave a message.”

A minute later, your phone rings again. It’s Dieter again.

“If you have to answer it, that’s okay. Don’t let me keep you from anything,” offers Matt.

You shake your head. “It’s fine.” You press the decline call button and put it on do not disturb as well. “What were you saying?” you ask

Dieter frowns as the call is suddenly dropped. He’s just about to try again when he sees you in the window of a coffee shop. You’re smiling at something, someone. God, your smile. He doesn’t deserve you, he really doesn’t. He doesn’t know how you put up with all his bullshit. Maybe that’s why he’s felt you pulling away some in recent weeks. It isn’t jealousy, he knows that. Perhaps the inevitable has finally come. You’re tired of his shit. But he still wants to tell you his good news, so he walks into the cafe.

And sees you sitting with the perv from the bar. He doesn’t like it. Doesn’t like the way that this dude is looking at you like you’re something to eat.

“Hey.” He makes himself known.

Reluctantly, you turn in your chair. “Dieter. What are you doing here?” You lace your voice with enough for him to intuit that you don’t want him here right now.

“I…” Dieter stalls, thinking of something to say. “I need you to come with me right now.”

You balk. “I’m kind of busy right now. Can it wait?”

Dieter shakes his head. “It’s urgent.”

Matt, ever the gentleman, steps in. He knows exactly where your friend fits into all this. Knows what neither of you want to admit to each other or yourselves. “It’s cool. I have to get back to the office soon, anyway.”

Before you can say anything, Matt stands, leaves a twenty on the table and offers you a tight smile. Silence falls between you and Dieter for a full thirty seconds.

“What the fuck, Dieter?” you ask. “What was so important that you needed to interrupt my date?”

Dieter knows he fucked up. It was a low thing to do. But he doesn’t know what came over him. It’s a new sensation, one he can’t describe.

“Well? It better be a damn good reason,” you prompt looking expectantly at him.

Dieter’s mouth goes dry. You’ve never dressed like this for him before. “I… uh… Kate finally got back to me. We’re going out on Saturday night.”

You blink slowly. “You mean to tell me that you broke up my date, with a perfectly nice guy, to tell me that you got a date with a girl you just want as arm candy?”

Dieter blanches at your cold, seething fury. He fucked up all right. “Well, uh, when you put it like that…”

You scoff, grab your purse and walk out of the cafe, into the park where you hope you can evade him. He’s quick on your heels.

“Will you just hear me out?” he asks.

The laugh that escapes you is bordering on manic. “What is there to hear out?” you ask.

“That guy is bad news.”

You shake your head. “You just don’t want to admit that you’re jealous. You’re jealous that your failsafe is paying attention to someone else and you don’t like it when all the attention isn’t on you.” You’re so right, Dieter realizes. And so wrong at the same time. He doesn’t know what you mean when you say that you’re a failsafe. But he is jealous. Of what, he doesn’t know. But he doesn’t have time to explain himself. “You’re a dick, David.”

In all the years you’ve known him, you’ve never once used his government name when addressing him. If you’re using his real name, you must be livid.

You turn on your heel and walk away from him. Leaving him behind.

- - - -

Dieter calls and texts and sends emails and messages and every sort of modern method of communication. You don’t respond to any of them. He knows he fucked up with you. On more than one count. But he can’t figure out what it is that you’re so mad about. Sure he broke up the date, but he had a bad feeling about Matt. Something he still can’t put his finger on. The jealousy, too.

Still, he can’t focus on it for too long because he has a date to get to.

He meets Kate at an up-and-coming restaurant. She’s dressed in a nice black dress, her makeup done and her hair down in waves. She’s pretty, but she’s not on your level of pretty.

Over appetizers, Dieter struggles to find something to talk about. It’s always so easy to talk to you. Or at least it was.

It hits him like a ton of bricks as Kate talks about something he has no interest in. It’s you. He wants you. He likes you.

“...hear a thing I just said?” Kate asks.

Dieter blinks. “What? Sorry. Um. I’m going to be honest with you, Kate. You’re really nice and you’re hot as fuck but I don’t think this is going to work out. I’m sorry.”

Kate frowns. “Hang on. This whole thing was what you wanted. You kept asking me and asking me to go out with you. And now you don’t want to?”

“Something like that, yeah. It’s not you, I promise.”

She scoffs. “Whatever.”

Dieter waves down the server. “We’re done here,” he says, handing over his black card. Leaving a hefty tip, he says to Kate, “I promise, it isn’t anything to do with you.”

Kate rolls her eyes and says nothing.

Hailing the nearest cab, he tells the driver the address of your apartment. He needs to see you. Needs to make things right. Tell you everything.

The knock on the door comes just after eight-thirty. You ignore it. The knock comes louder.

Going to the door, you see that it’s Dieter. “Go away!”

He’s not giving up that easily. “Please just let me explain everything.”

Against your better judgment, you open the door. “Fine. Come in. And I reserve the right to kick you out at any time.”

Dieter follows you into the living room, sitting on the couch. You look at him, half-expectantly half-annoyed. “I’ve been an asshole,” he starts.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” you grumble.

Licking his lips he continues. “I was on my date with Kate earlier tonight and I realized something. The entire time, I wanted it to be you. You were right. I am jealous of Matt. I’m jealous that you were spending time with him and not me… on a date.”

You can’t be hearing this right. “Dieter, what are you saying?” you ask, managing to keep your voice level.

“It’s you. It’s always been you. And I know that… you don’t want to go down that route, you just want to be friends, but—”

“I’m in love with you, you idiot,” you interrupt him. You don’t sound happy about it, though.

Dieter’s heart jumps into his throat. “Then why—why were you on a date with that guy?”

You scoff, your eyes hard and shiny with unshed tears. “Because I’m trying to move on from you. You have such a revolving door of partners. As soon as you’re bored with someone, you drop them or make them drop you so that you can move on to the next shiny, new toy. Dieter, I don’t think I could handle it if you did that to me. You already treat me like a failsafe.”

There’s that word again. “What do you mean by that, exactly?” he asks, dreading the answer.

“You…” Your voice cracks and you try again, all the things you’ve kept bottled up inside of you spilling out. “You only call me up when you need or want something and everyone else is busy. I’m the failsafe. And sometimes you’re such a terrible fucking friend to me. You take and you take and you take and you take. You never give, you’re always taking advantage of my giving nature. The only time you give is when you want something in return. You’re an asshole.”

Dieter doesn’t defend himself, doesn’t try to deny what you accuse him of. He just listens and takes it. Because you’re right. Of course you’re right. Taking a deep breath, he says, “I know. You’re right. And I’m so, so sorry I treated you that way. I’m sorry you had to deal with that for so long. I’m sorry for how I’ve dealt with my feelings and how you’ve had to witness and be at the receiving end of those.” His own voice is trembling. He’s lucky that you even have allowed him in and haven’t kicked him to the curb long ago. It’s a sign of your kindness, he thinks.

You sigh. “Thank you.” It isn’t forgiveness. It’s too soon for that. “I’ve been in love with you for a while and I’ve kept my distance because I know you’re just going to get bored with me. I’m nothing new, nothing exciting.”

Dieter shakes his head. “That couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s true that I’ve dropped people like hot potatoes when a relationship has run its course. I’m not denying that. But I like you. I’ve never gotten jealous of anyone else before. I’ve never… yearned for someone’s company like I yearn for yours. I just don’t want to come across as overbearing.”

You swallow. “Then why do you go weeks without contacting me?”

“Because… I don’t want you to realize that I’m not good. But you figured that out already. Please tell me what I can do to make it up to you. I know it’s a mountain to climb, I know that, but I want to be a better man. I want to be with you.”

You consider it for a long minute. “I forgive you,” you say to his immense relief. “But you need to work to show me you mean it and I’ll decide if I can trust to be with you. But it can’t be an empty promise or a meaningless gesture.”

Dieter nods. It’s the least he can do. And he’s going to do that and more. “Yeah, okay,” he murmurs. A beat passes. “Can I… can I kiss you? Or is that asking too much?”

You sigh. “All right.” Getting up, you cross the short distance to the couch. Cupping his bearded cheek with your palm, you lean in and press your lips to his.

It’s chaste but with a modicum of heat. Dieter breathes your name and looks utterly wrecked by the little kiss.

“I mean it, David. If you mess this up, you’re gone,” you say.

He smiles. “Understood. You’re stuck with me, I promise.”

- - - -

Eighteen months later

True to his word, Dieter is stuck with you. It took a lot of effort and work on his part to prove that he was serious about you and serious about changing. He’s made it clear that he hasn’t changed just for you.

Six months after you had your discussion, Dieter had still continued to hold up his end of the bargain. He wasn’t doing it out of obligation. He was doing it because he wanted to become a better man. To be with you and to make amends. His first order of business was to start attending therapy to figure out why he behaved the way he did. He’s made some real improvements with himself.

And now, a year later, you and he are still going strong. Your relationship is new and exciting everyday. He isn’t even remotely bored with you. Dieter loves waking up with you and spending his time with you and experiencing new things with you. He can’t believe it took what it did to get here. That it took being on the brink of ruining everything to realize what it was he truly wanted, who he truly wanted. The first time you came together was like the first time all over again. Magical and right and everything he’s ever imagined it being. And it’s like that every time. Regardless of how many times (and it’s been many, many times).

You’re on even, solid ground now. More equal in your give and take with him. And it didn’t take long for you to remember how considerate and kind he is.

He wants to spend the rest of his life with you. He never once has thought of you as a prize to be won. Not some trophy. You’re his best friend. The person he loves most and would do anything for. It dawned on him not long after your discussion why none of his relationships ever worked. He was waiting for the right person. He’s had the right person right in front of him the entire time and he’s so glad that he realized it before it was too late. He’s never once taken you for granted ever again. Sure you have little fights and squabbles here and there, but it’s always the two of you against the issue you’re facing and you’re always able to overcome it. When you’re together with him, it’s like you can overcome anything.

You had been afraid that you would be nothing new to Dieter, that he would quickly toss you aside, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. You’re exciting and fun and completely you. Everything he’s always wanted. And you never doubt it for a second.

The End.

--- taglist in reblog

#dieter bravo x reader #pedro pascal #dieter bravo #the bubble #the bubble movie #my fic #my writing #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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