#and she wants to talk to me about something for my parents

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch. 10

WandaNat x Reader

Word count: 3.4k

Ch.Notes: no notes this ch

Summary: Natasha and Wanda have a talk about their feelings for you. After that emotional conversation they meet you at the hospital to visit Dragos.

An: If I were to say things get more real next chapter how would you feel...

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

The rest of the work day drags for Natasha and Wanda. Both women having other things on their mind. However, with Kate and Y/n out of the office on a hectic day like this, they couldn’t afford to dwell too much.

“Sestra, can we call it a day? I've never taken this many calls in my life,” Pietro barges into his sisters office.

“If you want to go home, then go,” she waves her hand dismissively at him.

“What’s got you so snappy?”

When Wanda’s eyes meet Pietro she’s glaring at him, “If you haven’t noticed I’m trying to run the company our father built on my own.”

Pietro raises his brow, “On your own? Discrediting my work is normal for you, but to act as if Y/n wasn’t running this place last night is bullshit.”

“Well she’s not here now,” Wanda mumbles under her breath.

“Why? Where is she?”

Wanda can’t hide the small clench in her jaw, “Kate took her home. She wasn’t feeling well.”

“She’s in good hands sestra if that’s what's worrying you,” Pietro tries to console her.

Wanda doesn’t want to speak about it any further, “I’m going to see papa whenever I’m done with this do you want to come?”

The way that Pietro's goofy features turn serious never cease to amaze Wanda, “I can’t tonight, I have a date.”

Wanda rolls her eye, “You’d rather get laid than see our father?”

Pietro shakes his head, “No, but this isn’t just some girl. I want this to be serious and I can’t afford to stand her up.”

The red head is slightly surprised, but she nods along, “I’ll tell him about it, I bet he’d be glad to hear you taking something seriously for once.”

He chuckles a bit before going quiet. He looks at Wanda similar to the way a needy child looks at their parent.

“Do you think he’ll wake up?”

“He has too,” the words are heavy as they leave her lips. She has a small smile placed on her face as she continues, “Mama will kill him if he doesn't.”

“Don’t work too hard sestra,” he speaks sincerely taking his leave.

“Enjoy your date,” Wanda says as he walks out of the door.

When he leaves she lets out a heavy sigh. For the first time today she lays her head down on her desk, exhaustion starting to plague her.

Thoughts of her responsibilities as the person in charge rain down on her. This was the end goal that she wanted, but never at this great of cost. She wished her father would wake up and reclaim his place because she didn’t feel ready.

She was focusing as hard as she could, but her mind always strays to her brother’s best friend. Your delicate skin pressing against hers in the morning or the strong arms that wrapped around her waist, or those doe eyes that she could sense staring at her.

Wanda debates for a moment before pulling out her cell phone and dialing the girl. It rings for a while before there's finally an answer.

“Hello.”

“Hey, little krolik. I just wanted to check on you. Nat told me you went home today,” Wanda keeps her tone level.

You sigh on the other end of the line, “I’m ok. I think I just got a little overwhelmed. I’m sorry for stepping out, I know that's not how we do business.”

“It’s no different than me leaving yesterday. This line of work takes a toll on you.”

She can’t see it, but you nod, “I’m feeling better now. I still want to go see pa- Dragos. Maybe I could have Kate drop me off and I’ll meet you two there?”

“You’re with Kate?” Wanda can’t stop herself from asking the question.

“Yeah she took me home and decided to keep me company,” you say nonchalantly.

“I could’ve taken you,” Wanda tries to play it cool.

You disagree with her, “I didn't want to bother you while you were working. It was a hectic day, truth be told I didn't even want to leave.”

Wanda’s tone is strong as she speaks, “I will never be too busy for you Y/n.”

“Wanda-”

“I mean it. I know I’m supposed to move past it, but I missed a lot while I was gone. I couldn’t be there for you like I wanted to. Now that I’m back I’d like to be there for you as much as I can. I still want to be the one you lean on,” Wanda let herself be vulnerable with you.

You were taken aback by her admission. It felt like it was impossible for you to come up with a response. It wasn’t like she was saying something you hadn't heard from her before, but her words felt heavier somehow.

“I know you'll be there for me, Wanda . You don't have to prove it.”

Wanda frowns lightly, “I’m not trying to prove anything. I’m just- it’s hard knowing I’m not the first person you come to when you’re in need. I know you've grown out of needing people for the most part, but I don’t know. I’m not making any sense. Nat and I will meet you at the hospital.”

Wanda doesn't give you a chance to respond as she hangs up the phone. She scolds herself about how needy she sounded during the call.

“I think I’m finished up for today, whenever you’re ready to go,” Natasha strolls into the office.

Wanda stares at the computer screen for a moment, “I should be ready in half an hour.”

Natasha plops down on the couch of her wife’s office. It’s silent for a moment until Nat shifts on the couch which makes noise fill the office.

“So, do you want to talk about it?”

“ About what?” Wanda keeps her attention on the screen.

“What I said about being jealous of Kate?”

Wanda’s brow furrows, “Not particularly.”

Natasha strides over to the woman’s desk chair and places herself in Wanda’s lap. Wanda’s arms loop around the woman’s waist holding her in place.

“We need to talk about this moya lyubov,” the spy places gentle kisses on the base of Wanda’s neck.

The other woman whines, “Why?”

“Because we’re married and you’re in love with Y/n,” Natasha states plainly.

Wanda rolls her eyes, “You were jealous too.”

Natasha nods, “I was and I don’t have a problem admitting it.”

Wanda’s face buries itself in the crook of Natasha’s neck, “So what does this all mean?”

“I like her too,” Natasha states bluntly.

“ I don’t want to lose you,” Wanda’s voice is small as she speaks to her wife.

Natasha softly places her hand on Wanda’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet, “You will never lose me Wanda. I married you because I’m completely, utterly, madly in love with you. That feeling hasn’t gone anywhere.”

“I love you too,” Wanda’s eyes shine as they bore into Natasha’s.

“ I think we should think about what it would be like to add Y/n into our relationship dynamic,” Natasha speaks, but it sounds like a question.

Wanda tenses briefly, “I can admit that I have feelings for Y/n, but I don’t know if I can act on these feelings Nat.”

“Why not?”

Wanda closes her eyes, “I’ve known her too long, Nat. She’s the same age as my little brother, not to mention she's his best friend. If she doesn’t feel the same way, this will ruin everything.”

“Detka-”

“I don’t know if it’s better or worst that we both want her. How would we even tell her Natasha? I don’t want to lose anymore time with her,” Wanda begins to get emotional.

Natasha cups her wife’s face in both of her hands, “Baby, I know you’re scared. This is scary, I’ve never been in a situation like this, I don’t have all the answers. All I know is that you love her and I think I could too. We’ve spent so much of our lives sacrificing for others, but I’m ready to sacrifice something for my own sake, aren’t you?”

“I am, but not at the expense of my relationship Y/n. I just got her back, Natasha. I’m not saying I never want to tell her, but I can’t do this now,” Wanda tries to turn her head away from her wife.

Natasha doesn’t let her, but instead places a soft kiss on her wife’s lips. Wanda relaxes under Natasha’s touch, feeling all of the stress of the day seeping out of her body.

“ Don’t hide from me, Wanda. I want you to share your feelings, I won’t ever judge you,” Natasha whispers against the taller woman’s lips.

“I don’t want to disappoint you. I know you’re ready but-”

Natasha shakes her head, “It’s not just about me, it’s about us. I don’t want to push you to do anything you aren’t ready for. If you want to pursue Y/n, I’m with you, but if you don’t, I'm still with you.”

Wanda nods softly, “I want to, but I- I need time.”

Natasha kisses her again, “Whenever you’re ready baby. Now finish up so we can go.”

“You’re not going to move?” Wanda questions her wife.

Natasha lets out an exasperated sigh, “ You can’t work around me?”

Wanda scoots herself into the desk. She slightly pushes Natasha to press into her further. The spy’s head is in the nape of Wanda’s neck.

“I can and if I’m being honest it’s my preferred method of doing work,” Wanda begins to focus on the computer again.

She works diligently with her wife in her lap. Having Natasha there makes her work go by a little faster and feel a lot less stressful. She finishes up within the hour.

Once she’s done Wanda shoots a text to Y/n saying that they were headed to the hospital. The girl replies saying she’ll meet them there.

Natasha drives, one hand on the wheel and the other holds Wanda’s hand. Her thumb caresses the back of the passengers hand trying to provide comfort, knowing that this was not an easy task for her.

Wanda had only visited her father once. She hated seeing him in such a fragile state. It almost didn't feel like he was her father. He couldn’t be the same man that took her to the city fair, the same mam that placed flowers in her hair, the man that invested his entire life in her dreams, it couldn’t be. This wasn’t the man that kept her safe from her nightmares, because looking at him in this state was beginning to feel like one.

When they arrived they went inside the building.

“If you don’t tell me what room he is in you won't live to the end of the week to regret it,” you argue with the receptionist.

Kate’s behind you her hand resting on your shoulder trying to pull you out of the conflict.

“It’s family only mam, one more outburst and I will have security throw you out,” the receptionist said causing a vein to pop in your neck.

“Is there a problem here?” Natasha speaks up first.

“Nothing that concerns you,” the receptionist snaps at the spy.

You interrupt, “You don't talk to her like that.”

Before things escalate any further Wanda slams her hand on the receptionist’s desk with her card under her palm.

“Now tell me what room my father is in, “ Wanda’s eyes look fiery as she stared at the receptionist.

The receptionist looks at the card bestie her eyes go wide, “Terribly sorry for the mix up Mrs. Maximoff, didn’t know she was in your company.”

Wanda peers down at the receptionist, “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. I don't ever want to hear you address either of these ladies in a disrespectful manner again.”

“Yes, Mrs. Maximoff sorry about that. It won’t happen again. He’s in room 286,” the receptionist looked ten sizes smaller.

You can’t help but give the woman a death glare as you head towards the elevator. Kate stops you on the way.

“I’m going to head home are you going to be alright?” Her eyes subtly glance in Wanda and Natasha’s direction.

“I’ll be fine Katie,” you reassure her.

“Ok just checking. Text me later and make sure you're taking care of yourself,” Kate pulls you into a tight hug.

The sound of someone clearing their throat ends your hug with the doe eyed girl. Kate smiles at you upon the release of the hug, she then waves goodbye, leaving you with the married couple.

“And you’re sure you and Kate aren’t dating?” Wanda can’t help, but comment.

You roll your eyes, “Positive, Katie and I are just friends.”

“What did you do after you left work ?”

You all pile into the elevator as you answer, “Nothing really. We just watched some tv and ordered some food. How was it at the office?”

Wanda goes to answer but Natasha stops her, “No work talk out of the office.”

“Well then what are we going to talk to Dragos about?” You attempt to joke in hopes of brightening the mood.

“ You can call him Papa you know?” Wanda takes her time looking at you.

“I know-”

She cuts you off, “Mama too.”

You nod to yourself, “I know, it’s just not my normal.”

Natasha speaks up, “It honestly feels like you’re fighting against their names when you say them. Mama and Papa sound natural coming from you."

“It feels like they are my parents.”

“They are,” Wanda grabs onto your hand as you approach Dragos’ room.

The air feels different when you enter the room. It’s hard to look at him in such a state. He lies still on the hospital bed with machinery hooked up to him. There are less machines than originally, but still too many in your eyes.

Flora sits by the side of the bed with her hand in his. The view is somber, it takes nearly everything in you not to cry. Almost as if she can sense the tension building in your body, Wanda squeezes your hand.

“How’s he been Mama?” Wanda’s moved closer to her mother’s side, dragging you with her.

“The same, but the doctors are saying that's a good thing for now at least,” she sighs heavily.

“And how are you Mama?” You ask looking over the woman’s features.

Flora sends you a small smile, “I’m tired sweetheart, but I’ll live.”

“Have you been going home?” Wanda questions further.

“To shower and change clothes.”

Wanda’s voice takes a stern tone, “Mama, you need to rest.”

The older woman shakes her head, “I can't leave him for too long.”

“He wouldn’t want you spending all your time here,” you say softly.

“It’s not about what he wants for once. If he didn’t want me here he would’ve listened when I told him going to meet Fisk alone was a bad idea,” she glares at her sleeping husband.

“I’ll have his head for this,” Wanda gets agitated at the mention of Kingpin.

“Blowing up the ports wasn’t enough?” Flora comments.

“Power move, just to prove that there are no cracks in our business affairs,” Wanda’s jaw sets.

Flora looks at her daughter, “He’s not going to take this lying down.”

“I know.”

You squeeze Wanda’s hand to reassure her, “ We’ll be ready for him."

Flora lets out a sad laughter, “You sound just like him Y/n.”

“ That’s a compliment for the ages. I hope I could be half of the person he is,” your gaze falls into your lap.

“You already are. You kids have always made us both so proud.”

You desperately want to ask more about Dragos’ condition, but you refrain. The conversation stays light as you reminisce about the man.

Natasha doesn't say much, but her presence does provide someone to share with. She's hearing most things about her father-in-law for the first time. She's getting a good look into the man he is.

She pays attention to the way you and Wanda both light up when sharing stories. It warms her heart to see the two of you looking genuinely happy for the first time in weeks.

When it’s time to go the mood drops a bit, but not too much. It’s when Natasha goes to follow Wanda and Y/n out of the room when Flora stops her.

“You make sure they're taking care of themselves,” Flora hugs the redhead and whispers in her ear.

Natasha nods, “I will Mrs.Maximoff.”

They head home after that, exhaustion finally catching up to them.

A small dilemma plagues your mind when you get home. Part of you wishes to go with Wanda and Natasha into their apartment where you know you can get a good night's rest. The other part of you tells you that you shouldn't make it a habit. It's a lose-lose situation.

Begrudgingly you decide to go to your own apartment.

“I’ll see you guys later,” you try and give a small goodbye.

Wanda grabs your forearm, “You can come over tonight, if you need to. No matter the time. Alright, little krolik?”

Your eyes shift over to Natasha who smile, showing agreement with her wife, “The door is always open for you.”

You struggle to keep your composure, “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”

Your house feels extra empty as you enter. The weight of the day sets into your system. Getting ready for bed seems pointless as you know you won’t be getting any sleep.

Staring at the ceiling seems different, knowing that across the hall was the woman that you had spent your teen years pining over. Yet, knowing that she could love you didn’t make your heart flutter like it was supposed to. It sent an anxiety running through your chest.

You knew that she was probably curled up in the bed next to her wife. Her drop dead gorgeous, kind hearted, Russian spy, wife. A woman in a league of her own, in her own right.

The thought didn’t make you jealous, but it had an adverse effect on you. You wanted to be there, to be involved, to be a part of what they had.

You groan placing a pillow over your head in a dull effort to quiet your thoughts.

Your phone rings on the dresser and you pick it up, and mumble a hello with the pillow still over your head.

“Come over.”

“Natasha?”

There’s a hum over the line, “Yes, are you coming or do I need to come get you?”

You shuffle out of the bed, keeping the phone to your ear, “Is something wrong?”

“Well-"

She’s cut off by her wife, “Come to bed little krolik. I need the extra warmth.”

Natasha chuckles, “Wanda refuses to sleep in your absence. She’s getting a little grumpy.”

“ I’m not grumpy. Tell her to hurry,” Wanda argues with Natasha.

This makes your heart flutter like it’s supposed to, “Are you sure it’s ok Nat?”

“ Lisichka I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you back in our bed.”

You feel a blush take over your features as you exit your home.

“ Ok, open the door,” you murmur and it takes no time for the spy to let you into her home.

Natasha looks exhausted as she grabs you by the arm and drags you wordlessly to the bedroom.

Wanda’s already in the bed and when she sees you she does a grabbing motion towards you. You shake your head before climbing into the bed. She wraps her arm around your waist and snuggles closer to you.

“You sleep here now. It’s better for all of us,” She mumbles against your skin.

“Ok,” you don’t fight her on it, knowing she’d probably forget in the morning.

You look up at Natasha shyly. She still stands over the bed. In a similar fashion to Wanda, you stick out your arms for her.

Natasha grins as she climbs into your arms. You carefully drape your arm over the spy, resting your hand against her flat stomach.

For the second night in a row you find yourself comfortable in their bed. You all think about how you shouldn’t indulge in this feeling, scared it won’t last.

It’s like the couple can read your mind. Wanda’s hold on you tightens and Natasha turns to face you. They keep you safe in their embrace and the thoughts in your head quiet.

No one says anything, but you all feel it. There’s a shift in your relationship and you won’t be able to ignore it for much longer.

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#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat x reader #wandanat #kate bishop #pietro maximoff

[leah-lover]

A person more than an athlete. Nika mühl x reader

Love always had a way of consuming you. Whether it was your friendships, relationships with your parents, your friends, or even your romantic relationships, you felt the love in every part of your body. You loved deeply and wholeheartedly.

You were also a dedicated person. You gave your career all you had which in turn got you a championship in your freshman year.

Women's sports were trending, and you were on top of the pyramid. From sponsorship deals, to ads, interviews, and magazine shoots, you were everywhere. The spotlight didn't mean much to you though. All you cared about was the sleeping body next to you.

Nika was to you the prettiest girl in the world. For her you would absolutely do anything.

“ Good morning.” You whisper into her ear before you kiss her shoulder. “ Morning.” she responds, shifting to lay on her back.

You two start kissing. The kisses were short and sweet which left you needing much more. “ Baby I am gonna be late for class.” She says after pulling out.

“ But…” you start to protest before she cuts you off. “ Babe I still have to go all the way to my room, get ready and go to class. We will finish this later okay?” She says before getting out of bed. You sigh loudly as she wears her shirt and gets her stuff. “ I love you “ you say although what you say isn't clear because your face is hidden by a pillow. “ I love you too. I will see you in practice.” she says before she leaves.

The rest of the day went as usual. You got ready for class, which you attended. You then changed into your huskies' track suit and went to the gym.

You started out training all right. You did your activation, some shooting drills, lifted some weights and got some cardio done.

You didn't talk nika during all of this because coach geno sat you all down in the first session of the year and said. “ You all are UConn players now, you have a big legacy to follow. You need to focus, work hard and train hard, and while you are part of this team relationships with your teammates are absolutely forbidden.” However, you couldn't help but fall in love with the Croatian international, she captured your heart more than basketball everdid.

You thought something was up when the coach asked nika to go to his office for a chat but you didn't give it much thought instead you hung out with Paige and Kk. You didn't see nika leave because you were too busy learning a new dance with Paige.

“ Hey, can you give me a minute?” said the coach to you.

You then enter his office with an unsettling feeling in your stomach.

“What's up coach? “ you say as you dit opposite his desk.

“ Look, I am gonna be as straight with you as I was with nika. You heard what I said the very first time you came to this gym. And you know what is gonna happen now.”

“ Coach with all do respect you can't do this. We are good assets to this team and we have been performing well. We won a whole championship last year while being together.”

“ I'm afraid it is not up for questioning. You will terminate this relationship. You agreed to this when you first signed the contract with us. The contract stated that inter team relationships are forbidden. Plus Nina already agreed to it.”

You didn't know how you got out of that office or how you walked across campus to your dorm. All you knew was that Nika and you were done.

You opened your door, got in and sat on the floor as soon as you closed it. You started to uncontrollably sob. That's when you feel familiar hands wrap around you. Her smell and her touch were comforting.

“ I love you so much.” she whispered in your ear. You could feel her tears on your cheeks.

“ he said you agreed to the bullshit he said.” you say wiping your tears.

“ I couldn't not agree. If he cuts me from the team I am done. I have to go back home and all of this will be for nothing.”

“ We can keep it a secret again. I don't want to live without you.”

“ Baby, if he catches us again we can't come back from it. I love you so much baby but I can't.”

You kiss each other multiple times while holding one another on the floor of your dorm. Nika then leaves and you stay on the floor heartbroken for a long time.

You flipped a switch as soon as she left the door knowing that you aren't gonna wake up next to her, sleep next to her, kiss her, or be inside her.

The next day at training was miserable to say the least. You didn't sleep the night before, you didn't smile, or talk to anybody. Your performance displayed your sadness. You were missing easy shots, and you clearly weren't focused. You didnt talk to nika or look at her. You started like that for 2 weeks you didnt talk to anybody, all you thought about was how much you modded her touch.

“ baby please don't do this.” said nika to you one the way to practice. “ We need to talk.” she says before she pulled you into the medic’s room.

As soon as she closed the door, she pinned you to the wall and started kissing you. You missed the taste of her lips, the weight of her hands on your waist, the way her hands rubbed you sides and her tongue swiped across your.

“ i missed you so fucking much.” she says after pulling out.

“ I am not whole without you. I can't do anything without you. I missed you so much.” you say before kissing her again. You were hungry for her, you needed her more than anything in the world.

“ I don't like this without you. Would you please come back to me?.” she asks while swiping her thumb on your cheek.

“ if it cost me my life to be with you again.” you respond.

'I love you baby.’ she adds.

“ I love you more than you will ever know.” you respond.

#nika mühl #nika muhl #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #paige bueckers #women's basketball #wbb #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa wbb #nika muhl x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso community #woso x reader #woso request #woso smut

[fawnchives]

♡𓂃 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆.

𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, christopher sturniolo & fem!reader.

episode summary: you and chris attend one of tara’s parties, where one first time leads to another unexpectedly.

parental advisory & ratings: slight angst, but it gets fluffier towards the end + established relationship with chris. talks and usage of drugs—molly to be specific, swearing, talks of sex and virginity loss, and nick locking in big brother mode.

♥︎ ⋆ ͘. behind the scenes. first things first: do not do drugs! in no shape or form am i promoting drug usage. anyways, this was well out of my comfort zone but i did enjoy writing it, i hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much — be safe ! 💐

april 20th, 10:47 pm ── beverly hills, ca.

ever since you saw the videos from tara yummy’s one million party, you’ve been begging for chris to take to you one. the puppy dog eyes and princess tantrums must’ve charmed him over because that’s exactly how you spent your friday night instead of curled up in bed, indulging in terribly written netflix shows and a tub of ben & jerry’s brownie batter ice cream.

though you guys weren’t in hawaii, the theme of her latest party was a luau—one of tara’s friends let her use their beach house; the perfect view of the ocean, the floral and beachy decor, and island style drinks and food. it was, well, perfect. especially considering that it was your first time going to a big party, nothing too crazy.

or so you thought.

the frilly and cheerful flower necklace that laid around your neck moved frantically with every move you made as you danced to the beat of the music with tara. the big speakers produced such a deep volume of bass that it made the walls in the house shake and the floor vibrate. and though you were having the time of your life, you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed over the fact that you were practically glued to tara’s side all night.

it wasn’t too much of your fault, everybody you knew was either busy or couldn’t make it; nick and matt stayed home, nick complained something about having a ‘debilitating migraine’ and matt was in one of his moods. madi got caught up in some sort of brand deal nightmare and the moment you arrived to the party, one of chris’s friends pulled him towards the drinking games table. you always felt a bit out of place around his friends so you just let it happen, not wanting to live up to the ‘clingy girlfriend’ title you’re sure they tease him about.

you and tara flashed each other toothy, anticipated smiles as you both walked over to a less noisy area, trying to catch your breaths from all the dancing you’ve engaged in. you two giggle and gush over how much fun you’re having when suddenly, the dj switches the track to a slower paced song, earning a thankful sigh from tara.

“thank god,” the short brunette dramatically exhaled as her arms fell to her sides. she looked around the room and quickly locked eyes with her ex boyfriend, jake, sending him some sort of hand signal as she motioned towards you. “hey um, hun? i think i’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick.”

“do you want me to come with?” you curiously offered, oblivious to what she was hinting towards. “you know, to stand guard.”

“oh, no need!” the girl singsonged, forcing a smile as her eyes darted between jake and one of the bathrooms down the hall. it suddenly clicked in your head, and you felt like a cockblocking moron. you awkwardly watched as jake pushed past a few people, making his over to you two—well, really tara.

“you should go find chris!” tara giggled loudly as she let her ex pull her away. that was her nice way of telling you to get lost.

11:17 pm.

after what felt like forever searching through a sea of people, you finally found chris. he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, talking to one of his friends. despite being a bit out of breath, you excitedly called out his name and waved at him. his friend quickly glanced in your direction, patted him on his shoulder, and bolted away just as you made your way towards him.

“hey—you okay, babe? you look tired.” chris questioned as his brows furrowed with worry the more he examined your state. he wasn’t lying, you were a bit tired from the dancing and walking around. but you didn’t wanna go home just yet. not so early into the party.

“i’m fine.” you shook your head as your boyfriend wrapped his arm around you. “just a little thirsty, all the dancing and stuff.” he kept his arm lazily draped around you as you two waltzed your way to the kitchen to find something to quench your thirst.

11:35 pm.

you and chris quickly settled on some punch, red cups filled with the delicious citrusy beverage as you both caught up with each other. you gushed to him about the dance frenzy you were in with tara and he bragged about how he totally “kicked ass” at beer pong. between the loud music and fast paced convos, you both didn’t hear the kitchen door swing open.

“chris sturniolo, i thought i’d see you here.”

you both quickly turned around at the sudden sound of a girl’s voice and your eyes are met with the sight of a tall blonde girl. your eyes darted between the semi uncomfortable look on chris’s face and the friendly look on hers—definitely laced with something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

you awkwardly coughed as you sloshed the rest of your drink around in your cup. “you two know each other or…?”

“we used to be, um—” chris nervously fumbled with the sleeve of his jacket.

“we go way back,” the girl answered for him, somewhat saving his ass from a whole lot of questions and awkwardness. she turned her attention towards you and smiles tightly. so fake.

“i’m brooke.” she reached her hand out for you to shake. you return the favor with a small smile back.

chris awkwardly cleared his throat. “right. y/n, this is brooke, brooke, this is y/n, my—”

“girlfriend.” the tall blonde answered for him again. “yeah, yeah…kinda figured. the way you had your arm around her earlier kinda gave it away. anyways uh—” you watched as she began to dig in her clutch purse and you couldn’t help but to feel a small pang of jealousy form in the pit of your stomach. you weren’t sure what kind of relationship she has with chris—or what kind of relationship she had, but the girl was drop dead gorgeous, the way her small black dress clung to her body showing off her curves…it was almost mesmerizing.

“speaking of introductions and stuff like that,” brooke said as she she slowly pulled out a bag of white pills from her clutch. “i’m hoping you two wouldn’t mind meeting my friend molly tonight.”

chris’s facial expression darkened as he pushed you behind him. “absolutely not, okay? y/n—she’s not that kind of girl.”

your stomach flip flopped, you’re weren’t stupid. you knew what was in that bag, despite your lack of knowledge and experience on it. though, curiosity gotten the best of you.

“wait,” you stepped forward, eyes darting between the bag and brooke. “i dunno, i mean, what’s it…like?”

brooke smirked as she placed two single pills on to your palm. “first timer huh? don’t worry, chris hasn’t tried it either. but if you really wanna know…” you leaned forward on the counter as she edged you with her words. chris scoffed and looked away, but made sure he stayed by your side despite being ticked off.

“…colors get brighter, sounds get sharper. you feel more connected to everything you love, that’s why they call it the love drug.”

chris angrily watched as brooke slowly walked off to a group of partygoers by the door, enthusiastically greeting them with hugs. he turned back towards you and sighed, shoulders slumping. “you don’t—you don’t have to—”

“no!” you squeaked back excitedly. “i do, i do want to, i mean. it’d be both our first time taking, um, well you know.” you couldn’t bring yourself to say the word. “c’mon babe, please?”

your boyfriend let out a defeated sigh as he looked around the kitchen before picking one of the small white pills out the center of your palm.

you two exchanged nervous smiles as you toasted with your red solo cups, downing the drug with the party punch.

12:30 am.

“c’mere,” chris giggled as he pulled your legs into his lap. you two were currently seated on the memory foam couch in the middle of the living room, center of the ongoing party. it was a little after an hour since you and your boyfriend took the pills—the pills which have definitely kicked in. brooke wasn’t lying, the colors in the atmosphere looked like something straight from a lisa frank collection, you felt light and airy asa feather. you giggled some more as you ran your finger through chris’s hair, his chocolate colored waves nearly having you under hypnosis.

“what is with you and my hair?” he laughed, gently pushing your hands away from his head.

“mmm, it’s just so…just so soft.” you lazily responded before booping the boy’s nose.

he lazily threw his head back against the couch and smiled at you. “you wanna know what really feels soft, babe? this couch—just feel it, like, oh my god.” you two bursted into another fit of giggles as you felt up on the couch cushions, soon melting and becoming one with the foam.

“i love this couch!” you gushed happily. “i love this house! it’s so awesome, oh my god!”

chris giggled at your euphoric state as he sat up a bit. “i’m so glad, i mean. i really am so glad for a lot of stuff. i was kinda worried when we first got here that the party would be a bit too much for you, y’know. i never want anything to ever be too much for you.”

“baby.” you smiled at your boyfriend’s intoxicated state.

“nooo, i’m serious,” he continued. “i just love you s’much, i know i can be high on energy like allll the time but sometimes i worry that i might be too much for you. and i was talking to the guys earlier and sex got into the topic, they asked if we’ve ever done it yet and, i dunno. i’m not sure if you wanna.”

“w-wait,” you stopped him, sitting up as soon as the word sex left his lips. “so, like, do you not wanna have sex with me?” you nervously chewed on your bottom lip as he quickly shook his head.

“no, no!” chris practically yelped. “i do, i really do, but i don’t wanna like…it’s no pressure! none at all—”

“i want to.” you suddenly found yourself on your feet, excitement and anticipation shooting through your bloodstream. “i’m ready. i wanna do it.”

“you sure—”

“i’m sure.” you nodded eagerly. chris smiled softly as he slowly stood up, wrapping his arm around your waist. “okay, babe.” he pressed a kiss along your temple. “let’s go find a room.”

april 21st, 9:30 am ── los angeles, ca ; present time & day.

chris absentmindedly toyed with the rubber band around his wrist as he sits on the barstool in front of the kitchen counter, watching nick prepare breakfast as he blabbers on about some sort of instagram dilemma; something about him not knowing which pictures to posts? dunno, beats chris, not like he’s listening.

which earns him a sharp scolding from the eldest sturniolo triplet. “hello, earth to fucking christopher. i asked you question like five minutes ago. are you gonna answer or are you gonna sit there staring into space like you’ve just seen a ghost or something equally fucked up?”

chris’s pale blues shoot up to meet nick’s. “hm?”

“okayyyyy…” nick turns his attention back to the waffle maker he’s been messing with for the past hour. three waffles made, three more to go. “what’s up—and don’t tell me it has anything to do with you being hungry. when you’re hungry, you act like a fucking warthog, not a spaced out idiot.”

the longer haired boy rolls his eyes in annoyance.

“something tells me it has something to do with y/n?” nick tries, eyes occasionally glancing up. “did you guys get into a fight? she’s been acting weird this morning too.”

the way chris’s shoulder slump tells nick that he’s right on the money—after what happened last night at the party? there’s been an uncanny amount of silence between you two and a dreadful, looming feeling of fear. and guilt, lots of it.

“no, we just—” the youngest triplet groans loudly as he buries his face into his hands. “we kinda had…sex.”

“you guys had sex!” nick shouts, causing chris to grit his teeth and throw an oven mitt at his brother. “god nick, could you be any louder? i don’t think the people on the first floor heard you!”

“i-i’m sorry,” nick responds in a whisper shout as he finishes cooking up the last round of waffles, sliding them on to a plate. “but that’s a really big fuckin’ deal—you two had sex!”

“we were high, nick, really fucking high…we took each other virginities, we weren’t thinking straight.”

“WHAT?!”

“nick, shut the fuck up!” matt whines from his room, slamming the door shut. nick and chris exchange looks before breaking out into a giggle fit, but it doesn’t last long.

“so let me get this straight,” nick pours syrup over his and chris’s waffles. “you guys got high, blasted out of your minds, and then fucked?”

chris nearly chokes as he washes down his food with apple juice. “even though thats literally what happened, don’t say it like that. it sounds bad.”

“it kinda is bad, chris.” nick shakes his head. normally, nick would be quick to scold his younger brothers whenever they did something so utterly stupid, but looking at the depressive state chris is in, he decides to give him the benefit of the doubt. “but it’s not the end of the world. you two did something pretty stupid and irresponsible, yeah, but there’s couples out there who have done worse. there’s still time to fix things between each other.” nick nods towards the balcony, where you been sitting out for most of the morning.

“she’s out there, go talk to her.”

you jump at the sudden sound of the balcony door sliding open. you turn around to see chris standing in the doorway. you give him a small wave and halfhearted smile before settling back down on the lounge chair you’ve been camping out on for the past few hours.

“hey.” chris greets softly, handing you a can of pepsi as he sits down on the empty chair next to you. you can’t help but to roll your eyes and laugh as you accept his carbonated drink offer.

“i’m sorry,” you both say in unison, causing each other to laugh. chris shakes his head once the laughter dies down. “i’ll go first; i’m sorry. last night should’ve went down differently, and i shouldn’t have let you…you know. mess around with that stuff. your first time should’ve been special.”

your brows furrow. “but it was special, chris. i mean sure, it wasn’t exactly how i planned my first time going but i don’t regret it at all. not a single bit. i even thought you were mad at me.”

the brunette nearly chokes as he looks at you. “mad at you? baby, i thought you were mad at me!”

“no!” you laugh. he laughs. you both laugh again. you guys look at each other and then look away.

“so we’re good, right?” you ask.

chris leans forward and grabs you by the waist, settling you into his lap. “yeah, babe. we’re good.” you two snuggle and enjoy the morning sun when suddenly, the sound of nick’s annoyed voice fills the air.

“you guys better come eat these fucking waffles! i spent an hour nearly burning my fucking hand off for these shits!”

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ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 tags. @sugrhigh @dominicfikue @kangelics @xoxo4chrisss @wovenribbons @ethelcained @cherrypostsposts

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader

[hidtired]

Unfortunate Timing Prologue

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: You found out your pregnant early into your relationship with Daryl Dixon. To make matters worse? The apocalypse happens a few days later! (not fully canon)

5.7k words

Warnings (Pregnancy, gore, smut, reference to abuse, violence, fluff, walking dead stuff, ect.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 etc.

Pre Apocalypse

You had moved to a small town in Georgia to get away from your parents. Your Aunt Mary had a little boutique and offered a job. Your parents didn’t like you weren’t married yet, not even dating either. So they have been shoving men at you for the last few years. They thought by your age you should have been married with kids. They wanted grandkids. Your brother was married but him and his wife struggled with fertility. The final straw was trying to get you into an arranged marriage with one of your father’s business buddies kid. You had only just turned 30.

It had freaked you out how your parents made it seem like you didn’t have a choice. So you packed your bags, your mother pleaded for you to not go. You broke the lease to your apartment and left without telling them where.

You like the simple life you were leading now. Helping your Aunt's business. You lived with her because she was a widow with no kids and wanted the company. You had some interesting neighbors across the street. You had just driven into the driveway taking notice of a man fixing his truck. It was hot outside and his arms were covered in grease.

You walked into the kitchen where your Aunt was doing dishes. You decided to help making idle talk about how the shop was until you looked out the window to still see the sleeveless man. Your Aunt caught you looking, "Thought you came here to get away from boys?" You smile shyly at being caught, looking back down and handing her a wet plate to be dried. "Never said that... Just the one my parents choose. Didn't have time to look for a date when men were thrown at me randomly by them." Your Aunt was amused to say the least. "That's Daryl Dixon, him and his brother live there. You have to watch yourself with a Dixon. But Daryl has helped me with a few things that broke around the house. He replaced the battery's in the fire alarms for me a week before you came."

You gave her a sideways look, "You trying to set me up now to?" Mary laughs, "Fine fine, granted I do bake something for him every time he does something for me. Could just have a sweet tooth." You look back out the window, ‘Daryl huh?’

It was a week later that you got a call from your brother. You went on a walk to take the call. He was anger that your father was on him for a kid because you had disappeared. The pressure had turned to his wife who was already having a hard time with infertility. It was when you were walking back to the house did the conversation get heated.

"Grow a back bone and yell at them Mathew! Why are you coming at me for!?" He responded with his own venom, "Why couldn't you just do what they asked! But go ahead die alone for all I care!" He ended the call abruptly after. You clenched your teeth tight and closed your eyes trying to compose yourself. A voice called from across the street, "Ya doin alright over there?" You turned to see Daryl beer in hand with the hood of his car open. You sighed shoulders sagging, "Sorry for the yelling." Daryl pick up another beer showing it off to you, "Sounds like ya could use one of these." You put your hands to your hips before deciding to walk over. You grab the beer he handed you with a smile, "Thanks..."

You cracked the can open taking a sip. Daryl stare at you for a second before saying something, “Yer boyfriend causing you trouble?” You chuckled at the thought, making a small face of disgust at it even, “No, that was just my brother being an ass.” Daryl took mental note of that ‘single’. He huffed and looked back down into his trucks hood. “Oh trust me I know how that is.” You look at him as he refocused his attention to his car, ‘That’s right, that’s what your Aunt had said.’ You lean against the truck. “Your Daryl right? I’m Y/N” Daryl looked back up at the mention of you knowing his name, “Oh so ya heard bout us.” He sounded a bit disappointed at the thought. You lean to look inside the car, smiling over to him, “Only the things my Aunt said.” He perked a brow at that, “Who’s yer Aunt? What she say about us?”

“Mary.” You pointed over your shoulder to the house, “And she mentioned you might have a sweet tooth.” Daryl looked over to the house of the lady he often did things for, her niece chiming in again. “Always see you fixing this truck across the street.” He pulled a red rag from his back pocket wiping his hands, “Ya damn thing always seems to be breakin.” He took notice of the girl fully now. You took slow sips of the beer he gave you while starring into the hood. “Well if I have any trouble with my car I know who to ask.” You looked up to him with a shy smile. “I’m useless when it comes to knowing anything about cars.”

That’s how they both started talking. You watching him fix a couple spark plugs while talking about things. Getting to know each other a little. Like how you were helping Mary with her shop. “Ah, so you just moved here.” You nodded, “Mmm about a month. Have no clue where anything is and have no friends so…” you shrug. A breeze started as evening was setting in. Daryl hesitated before saying, “I could show you some local spots.” He bit the side of his thumb nail waiting for an answer. You had bit your bottom lip looking up at him and smiled, “Sounds like fun to me.”

He was worried for a second he messed up, “There’s a bar that everyone knows, real popular on Fridays.” You nodded while looking at him staring down at your watch seeing you had been talking for about a hour. It was getting late so you slowly started to walk backwards to your house. You smile with a glint in your eye, “Sounds like a Date… see you Friday!” You waved and all he could do was look on with wide eyes. Did you just- “Pick you up at 8!” He yelled. He was in slight disbelief at the out come. Had you been flirting with him the whole time?

You had handed him a tool before he could even ask. You had known how to do it all along and played stupid to talk with him. He smiled down as he closed his hood. ‘Oh you were trouble.’

When Friday came he was kicking himself. This was unlike him to go on dates. But he wouldn’t deny he liked you. You were also looking forward to a date for the first time in a while. Preferring it more than being tricked on to one with some guy your parents liked. Daryl probably didn’t fit that kind a guy they would. Oh but your kind definitely. Your Aunt watched you try on an outfit before deciding to go with a floral casual dress that went to your knees. She gave you a smug look and you only rolled your eyes. You had a long black jacket over you, knowing it was already cool outside.

Daryl knocked on the door and off you went in his truck to this bar. He was slightly nervous when he saw you dolled yourself up, and for him? He had lied to Merle where he was going and doing. He was desperately trying not to blow this, “Ya look pretty…” he had said it at a stop light looking over to you. It’s everything a girl wants to hear, and it sure made you smile.

When they got to the bar the bartender seemed confused to see Daryl with a girl. He was normally there with his brother. Mostly to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid he had noticed. “Well if it isn’t a Dixon, tell your brother he still owes me for the glass he broke.” Daryl cringed at the mention of his brother. You just simply took a seat on a stool. “What can I get you two.”

You had a few drinks you’ll admit. You tried a classic drink that the locals had. You were grossed out at the drink causing you and Daryl to laugh. He only had a drink with the need to drive you both home. You had tried to play pool but decided you were a little to inebriated at how many times you missed the ball entirely. You were standing in a corner of the bustling bar talking. You held a bow empty cup dying laughing at a story had told you about his childhood. Sometimes kids dumb actions, like jumping off a shed in a hero outfit, were just funny. You had lost a little balance at your laughing and place a hand onto Daryl’s chest. He only looked down to you putting a hand to your waist to steady you. You had tears of laughter in you eye, you fanning your face to no ruining your make up. He was definitely enjoying this more than he wanted to.

You had been at the bar for about 4 hours with Daryl. You now walked leaning into him in the parking lot. He had an arm around your shoulder leading you to the car door. He started the car and looked over to you, “Should have told me ya were a lightweight.” You gasped offendly, “Lightweight! I’ll have you know I’m just tipsy.” He looked at you questioningly humming. You relaxed into the car seat, “Ok, I’ll admit I haven’t done this in a while- might be a little rusty on the drinking game.”

You both continued to joke around until getting to the neighborhood. He back up in your drive way to later drive into his own. Him doing that thing with his arm as he back up. You bit your lip at the sight. When he parked and looked at you you spoke, “Thank you for this Daryl, I had fun.” He nodded, “Was my pleasure…” you had slowly moved closer crossing the middle seat. He looked down at your flushed face, mostly done by the alcohol. That liquid courage probably giving you the strength to grab him by the chin and slowly kiss him. He leaned into it grabbing your hip. You pulled back with a bashful smile,

“Same time next week?”

He had fully smiled at that, “Ya bet your sweet ass. Now get out of here miss ‘tipsy’.” You giggle wiggling your way out of the car. Waving goodbye with a stupid smile on your face. He felt his heart skip a beat, ‘oh he was real screwed…’

That night he even thought back to how you were looking at him on the way back. He had caught you leaned against the window with hooded eye. When he looked at you, you tried to fight a smile. Oh and how could he not think of the kiss. His hands dragged down his face at the thought.

This went on for a little over a month. You would see each other throughout the week but Fridays you would go out. Small touch’s and kisses here and there. It wasn’t until you ended up back at that bar that things changed. You were only 2 drinks in. You sat in a booth with Daryl. Head on his shoulder and hands intertwined under the table. You pulled away getting up, “I’m going to get another drink and you a beer. Then I’ll wipe your ass in a game of pool!” Daryl chuckled, “Let’s hope you can hit the ball with your cue this time.” You stuck out your tongue at him while walking to the bar. You had only been waiting for your drinks when a man slide up next to you.

“Whats a pretty thing like you doing with a Dixon? He blackmailing you?” The man held a sleazy smirk. You only look at him with disgust ignoring him. It was when he put his hand to your arm pulling you closer did you talk to him, “Hey back off!” The man’s grip tightened, “What you a hooker or something? Only way a Dixon could get some pipe is by paying for a slut.” You had yanked your arm from him, you falling back a little before landing against someone behind you. A arm rapping around you, you recognized it instantly, Daryl. His voice growling and rumbling against you, “Back off my girl.”

The man who was bothering you only rolled his eyes, “Maybe keep your slut on a leash-“ You had felt Daryl lean forward behind you before you even saw him sock the guy in the face. You had gasped and turned to push Daryl back from the guy. He stumbled and held his nose. You whispered to Daryl, “Ok it’s time to go…” You tried to push him closer to the door but the jackass decided to spit out another comment, “Ya let your bitch drag you away pussy!” You felt Daryl lean forward and resisted you leading him backwards but you spoke softly up to him, “Please…” His eyes briefly met yours. He looked back up to the guy who was probably drunk but, Daryl’s blood was boiling with rage. He relented at your plea and walked out the exit.

He was quiet as he walked back to the truck. Walking a little faster ahead of you. When he got into the drivers seat you had said his name but he wasn’t listening. He put the key in the ignition, turning it on but your hand rested onto his arm and you said his name again, “Daryl…”. He slumped a little and turned the car back off. He slowly turned to look at you. You scooted closer into him. You closed your hands around his face so he would look at you. You gave a small smile, “Thank you.” You gave him a quick peck before leaning back to look at him.

He signed and placed his forehead to yours talking a moment. He thought maybe he was gonna scary you off at the out burst. He whispered, “Hope I didn’t scare ya.” You chuckled shaking your head, “They opposite really. I was scared of that guy and then you came and I felt ok again.” He inhaled a breath before I closing his arms around you. He pulled you into him more and you rapped an arm around his back. You sat there for a moment before you spoke, “Soooo, Your girl huh?”

Daryl froze in place. Didn’t even register he said it in the moment. He pulled back from you, mouth agape, stuttering before he gave up at trying to say anything. You placed a hand into his hair playing with a strand of hair, “I’m your girl?” You had almost whispered it. Daryl cleared his throat, “Will you be?” You let out a breathy sigh,

“Yeah, thought you’d never ask.”

That is when you officially started dating. Sat in the truck, in the parking lot, making out for a good 10 minutes.

You were enjoying the new found established relationship. Over the next week was filled with your Aunt seeing you cuddle on the couch watching a movie. You had even managed to give him a small haircut in his bathroom, “Hmm, I think you would look good with long hair.” Sometime you would find yourself in Daryl’s room laying on his bed just talking when Merle was away.

Speaking of Merle he had later found out when at the bar that his baby brother started a fight over his girlfriend. He had thought nothing of it until he asked his brother if it was true. When it was confirmed he laid hurtful comments at him. ‘No one can love someone like us!’ ‘Like you really?’ It was a definite damage to his ego. But some of the things he said about you rubbed him the wrong way. It made him defensive, ‘She a good lay?’ ‘got you pussy whipped.’ They had yet to even cross that line.

You know understood why Daryl had not wanted you to met his brother at first. He made rude and sexually comments to you. Often either being sexist or racist any time near him. You mostly tried to say clear of him.

Then there came the drama that followed from your parents. Apparently your Aunt let it slip to your brother you were with her. He told your parents and now here you were getting a call from her shop. You picked up the business phone and before you could even spit out your prepared greeting you heard your father’s voice boom over the phone. “Now you listen to me little lady you’re coming back home!” You pause shocked. “Your little tantrum is done and you will do as you’re told!” You could hear your mother in the back telling him to calm down. You to in a breath and replied calmly, “Dad, I will do no such thing.”

He was yelling more. You had caught something about a wedding date and some name before your mother took the phone from him. “Honey, you need to come back home ok?” You really couldn’t understand why, “No Mama I like it here.” She went to go on, “We are just doing what we think is best for you. We just want you to be happy with a husband.” You had enough snapping at them for the first time, “You want what’s best for you. If you wanted me happy you would have listened to me! I’ll have you know with the time I’ve been gone I finally feel free. I even got a boyfriend!”

Your mother gasped, “In the town you’re in! What redneck white trash could you possibly find out there!” You were surprised at the way your mother spoke. But you were also mad at it. You angrily replied, “His name is Daryl Dixon! Fuck you! Never call me again!” You hung up seething. You had closed the shop a little early.

After the call from your parents you walked to the bar. The bartender seemed surprised seeing you without Daryl before asking, “Your usual?” You nodded with an appreciative smile. While waiting for the drink you noticed Daryl’s brother with a few other people. You ignored him deciding you would have the one drink and go home, not really in the mood to deal with Merle.

You had just finished your drink when you heard a commotion behind you. Merle and another were arguing. It was getting really heated. You had stood about ready to leave when the other guy threatened Merle, “I’ll kill you for this!” When you had turned Merle was smug looking and unaware of the knife being pulled from behind the man’s pants. You had yelled, “Merle!” In a panic you lobbed your glass at the man. It shattered over his head sending him to crumple to the side on a table. The knife slipping from his hand and landing in front of him. Merle looked down at the knife before looking up to where the glass came from, spotting you. You were shocked with your mouth open looking at the man holding his head in pain, before looking back to Merle. The few other men that were sitting with them getting up displeased.

Merle realizing he was out numbered started to run toward you. He had grabbed you by the arm and dragged you with him to the exit. The bartender yelled as you got dragged away. “Hey!” You had yelled back before the door closed, “Sorry Lawrence I’ll pay you back later!” Merle was still dragging you along to his motorcycle. The door had swung open and the angry men started to pursue you both. Merle had yelled at you when you pause to look at the door, “Get the fuck on!”

You had hopped over the seat and sat behind him. Not having a moment to hold on before he started to speed off. It wasn’t until he pulled into his driveway that you started telling him off.

Daryl had heard Merle’s motorcycle pull in but he wasn’t expecting to hear you yelling right after it. “Goddamn I’m already having a shit day!” When he walked out the front door to see you telling Merle off as he just sat there on his bike silently taking it. He had never seen his brother not throwing words back at someone. “Are you an idiot!” Not even that got a reaction from him. Daryl knew that would normally get replied by violence. It wasn’t until he spoke did you turn at his voice, “The hell is goin on?” Your anger soon crumpled into tears, you were overwhelmed and maybe a bit scared still body pumping with adrenaline. Daryl almost got whiplash at the sudden mood shift.

That didn’t stop him from hugging you as you started to cry. He shot a look to his brother who still sat on his bike. Merle looking weirded out at the sudden tears. "The hell you do ta her?!” Merle rubbed the back of his neck, "May have got into a bit of a fight at the bar with some folks. She kinda stopped me from being stabbed." He had felt you shaking in his grasp now. He knew you hated conflict, told him about the pit that would form in your stomach. But you stopping Merle from being stabbed? "How she do that?" Merle chuckled, "Threw her glass across the room! Knocked him clean on his sorry ass." He seemed almost impressed by you.

Daryl started leading you back toward your home. Daryl turning to yell back to his brother, "Whatever man piss off." He had gotten you into your house before you spoke, "My Aunt went on her Cabo trip with her book club friends. She'll be gone a week... stay?" He gulped, "If ya really want me to." You nodded, "I don't wanna be alone." He saw you were scared.

He lay next to you in your bed after you calmed down and ate dinner. "Want to talk bout it?" You moved closer to him leading him to put a arm over you. You sighed into him, "I was at the bar because I had a rough conversation with my parents. Somethings were said. Their the reason I moved here, to get away from. I saw Merle and then the knife- then all those men chased us." Your hand rose to pinch the bridge of your nose, "Just been a- a shit day." You move to look up to Daryl's blue eyes a smirk rising to your lips at the worried and tight look he was giving you. He relax a little at your attention. He dragged a hand up your arm to your face, "Merle seems to think your a badass now." He himself was a little proud to hear what you did. You grunted into his chest, "He'd better. Saved his dumbass."

You were talking for a while after that. Seeing the clock blinking 1am now. You were sleepy but enjoyed talking to him to much to fall asleep. Sleep was pulling at your eyes and a question that should have been a inside thought slipped out, "Why haven't we had sex yet?" Daryl was a little taken back but not to shocked at the question, he hummed, "Honestly not a clue, I like you to much to mess anything up." Maybe the tired feeling was making his lips a little loose to. He paused before continued, "I've only had meaningless sex. Nothing with feeling behind it." He smirked down to your hazy eyes, "Why? You tryin to get in my pants?" You chuckled adding a little shrug, "Perhaps. Take me out to dinner and we'll see how the night goes from there." That made Daryl's heart beat a little harder. Of course he has thought about it before just didn't know how to act on it with you. He held you a little tighter to him, goofy smile to his face, "Yes Ma'am."

Take you out to dinner he did. Nothing to fancy but by the end of that night you offered him to follow you inside. You were laughing while bumping backwards into things as you both kissed. You stripping buttons down his shirt when he paused face looking uncomfortable. You stopped at the look. He sighed squeezing his eyes tight. Reminding himself it was you. "Uh sorry, just forgot to mention- just look fer yourself..." You softly pulled the shirt down off of him. Revealing scars along his body.

You dragged a finger along one. You look up at him with round eyes. He looked away before saying, “M’ Daddy was a drunk.” You intake air and release it at the information. You leaned down and kissed the scar you touched. Everything turned slow from that point, more sensual. He rolled into you at a pace he never had before. He was used to chasing a feeling, getting it over with. But every time he would push into you he couldn’t help but love the groans you made. You sure loved the noises subconsciously coming out of him as well. You would move up into him. The slow motion had sent you crazy. Leading you to claw at him begging for more. He didn’t go faster but harder.

Your moans filled your bedroom. Daryl was sucking on your neck while rutting into you. He was huffing out air and grunting in exertion. The tight clench he felt around him damn near knocked the wind out of him. He had pulled out and rested his head on your chest while trying to catch his breath. You dug your hands into the back of his hair.

That night lead to many more like it. Which is what lead you to the current situation going on. You were in the bathroom staring at a positive pregnancy test. Not just one but three. You sat on the floor contemplating, 'How did this happen?' 'Do I keep it?' 'How do I tell Daryl?' You and Daryl had been only officially dating for 3 and a half months now. The first test had you in denial, the second had you begging. The third had you close to acceptance. At least you weren't ugly crying anymore. Before anything you needed to tell Daryl. So you called him over saying it was urgent.

He opened the front door and jogged to your room seeing you crisscross on the bed looking distraught. He kneeled down at the front of your bed looking up at you. You took in a nervous breath before talking, "If you need a moment after I tell you this, its okay, I wont be mad." Daryl's heart dropped to his ass, 'were you about to end stuff between them?'

"I'm pregnant."

His eyes slowly widened and he looked down to your stomach then back to you. He abruptly stood up then paused again. His mind moving a mile a minute but also not at all. The one thing to click was "A father? ME?' He slowly walked out the room. You sat there with tears burning in your eyes watching him leave the room. He paced back and forth hand running into his hair. The fight or flight in him was telling him to run, he was overwhelmed. Then he heard a small sniffle come from the room he had just come from. That stopped him in his tracks. He thinks he loves you. You both hadn't gotten to saying it out loud to each other. He didn't know what love felt like but this was what he imagined it to be. He hated to see you cry. Made him feel like maybe he would to if he didn't fix your tears. When he heard you he slowly made his way back into the room. Realizing you were most likely as terrifies as him, more so even.

You felt his arms around you making you cry harder. You had run the possibility of him leaving in your mind. Fully aware of his lack of a good father in his life. When you pulled away to look at him he also had tears going down his face. It was the first you have seen him cry. You had now put your arms around his middle and pulled him down to now lay on top of you. You had a tight hold on him and he you. You both calmed down and you knew he wasn't leaving, then he also whispered into you, "I've got ya. Both of ya."

It was rough that first day. It didn't feel real. You told Daryl how you were going to make a appointment in the morning. You asked if he was wanting to go with. He had slowly nodded deep in thought. You had said they could talk about everything in time.

You both had time.

You had an appointment in a week, the receptionist suggesting you go and buy prenatal vitamins before then. You also broke the news to your Aunt, she was supportive. Saying she would love to help with anything you needed. You and her walked a few blocks to a small store connected to a pharmacy. You looked to the shelves of pills. You held two big bottles, different brands, of prenatal vitamins. The sound of screaming alerting you to a disturbance in the store. You turn to your Aunt with a questioning look. You both peaked around the aisle spotting someone on top of the other, a fight perhaps?

Gun shots to your left making you jump. You turned seeing a man backing down the aisle beside you shooting rounds into a woman approaching him. You witnessed the women not even flinch to each shot. Your Aunt pulled you by the shoulder backwards down the lane. Another person who was pale with foggy eyes rounded the corner. It grabbed your Aunt and before you could blink took a bit out of her neck. You watch in horror as she dropped to the ground with that person on top of her. Blood from her throat being ripped out had splattered across your face. You screamed terrified. The lady the man had been shooting at now turned the corner from the aisle they were in. Now she was covered in blood though. You look down to your Aunt who had stopped moving. The thing taking notice of you. So you ran.

You had just seen your Aunt being brutally murdered. You ran out the door of the building pill bottle still in hand. You saw people running, cars crashing. Others getting hit by cars. It was a nightmare but you felt like you need to keep moving. You ran down the road back to your house. Dodging anyone covered in blood.

Daryl had kicked the door open to your house. Merle was packing stuff into the truck across the road. He screamed your name looking for you anywhere. When he couldn’t find you he ran back to the car, “I can’t find her!” Merle rolled his eyes, “Forget about her! She probably died someone where let’s get are asses out of here!” Daryl yelled back at him with rage. “THE IS NO WAY IN HELL IM GOING ANYWHERE WITHOUT HER!” The yell had shocked Merle. Daryl had never talk to him like that. “We can find you a new lady we gotta go!” Then Daryl did something more unexpected. He shoved Merle back. He had hit the side door of the truck, Merle was about to hit him when he yelled, “She’s pregnant man!”

Daryl had a panicked and pained expression on his face. He started to stuttered out, “I-I gotta go look—“ The sound of his name being yelled from a distance made him turn in the direction. He was relieved to see you running full speed toward him. His relief flooded by panic at the sight of blood painted across your face and cloths. He ran the rest of the way to you. Crashing into each other in an embrace. You struggled to regain breath after how long you were running. Daryl had held your face seeing were the blood came from. Tears forming in your eyes, “It’s not mine…” Merle’s voice cutting in, “Come on love birds we gotta go now!”

Daryl lead you to the car opening the door and making you jump in, “Stay here I’m going to get some of your stuff.” He ran off back to your house and Merle started tightening the cables to the bike in the back. He sat down in the driver seat and looked over to you. You had two pill bottles on your lap and you stared at your hands shaking. He then noticed all the blood on you and decided to keep his mouth shut. Daryl ran back throwing a duffel bag in the back before going to the passenger side. You sat in the middle still a little stunned. Like a bird who flew into glass.

Daryl’s arm went behind your head resting on your shoulders. You leaned into him. Merle had started to peel out of the space driving off into a direction. You heard little of the talk between them. Choosing a quarry they know to get away from the towns and head into the woods.

All you knew was the world was changing.

Part 2

Feedback welcomed and requests open!

Sorry for mistakes I to eepy its 2 am. I'm dyslexic and struggle with it and normally reread 10 times to fix mistakes but this is so long I wanna go to bed.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #norman reedus #angst #fluff #smut

[sansaorgana]

Oh my God, would you write a little something about their little daughter/son or (twins?) walking in on reader and Buck? Pretty please? 😅🫠

hi, sugar! 🍬 thank you for your request, it's such a cute idea. 🥺 I love imagining Buck as a husband and a father and all these domestic things. 🏡

I had to currently close the requests because I got so many so I'm working on them atm 🙏🏻

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

You hadn’t been intimate with your husband for a long while now. Taking care of energetic twin preschoolers was taking up most of your time and even when you happened to have free time at the end of the day, you were often too tired to start anything. Which was a misfortune because you wanted at least one more child with Buck. You dreaded the day your son and daughter would go to school – you wanted to be busy with another little baby in the meantime.

You gave it a try tonight because after a long day spent in the park, running around the playground, your twins had fallen asleep very quickly. So, there you were, laying under your husband’s warm and strong body, with your thighs around his waist pushing him deeper and deeper as your back arched and his full lips were muffling your soft moans with a kiss. Your hands were squeezing his biceps as his were cupping your face; the rhythm of his hips was steady but not too fast and not too rough. Buck Cleven was not the type to fuck. He was making love to you.

After a few weeks of no intimacy at all, you could feel your release coming very fast and you only hoped you’d have more than one round on that night. So lost in pleasure and chasing the high, enamoured by your husband’s flushed cheeks, a single golden hair strand falling down on his forehead and his beautiful blue eyes staring at you lovingly whenever he’d break the passionate kiss to catch a breath… you simply didn’t hear the noise in the corridor.

“Mummy, daddy…!” Your little girl’s whine interrupted you as she pushed the door open without knocking. Her twin brother followed and you froze with widened eyes as you panicked.

But Buck never panicked. That man was always calm and always knew what to do, it was impressive. No matter what the situation was, his calmness was working miracles to make you feel safe and taken care of. He made sure that you were both covered with the blanket and turned around to look at your children.

“Minnie, I’ve been telling you to always knock,” Buck scolded her gently. Her lower lip trembled as she squeezed tighter the teddy bear she was holding.

“But daddy, Bobby is mean to me! He says there is a monster under my bed…” She was on the verge of tears.

“I really saw him!” Bobby denied the accusations. “I wasn’t trying to scare her! There is a monster under her bed.”

“Funny!” Minnie faced him. “Why under mine and not yours then?”

You took a deep breath in and sighed. They were only children and it was difficult to be angry at them for this but you weren’t pleased either.

“And what are you doing?” Bobby squinted his eyes at his parents.

“We… We are talking,” Buck answered awkwardly, his cheeks flushing even more. However, your little boy didn’t seem to be convinced. “And cuddling,” Buck added quickly so the answer was more believable.

“Why are you naked?” Minnie asked and you furrowed your brows at her.

“How do you know?” You asked and she pointed at your nightgown on the floor. “Well, it’s hot here,” you quickly made up an excuse and rubbed your sweaty forehead. “Go back to sleep, darlings, there are no monsters under any bed in this house. Monsters are too scared of daddy,” you tried to make them go away as quickly as possible.

“Then daddy should inspect,” Bobby crossed his hands.

You looked up at Buck’s face and he sighed with a gentle smile. He was a big softie for his children and that was one of the reasons why you loved him so much. He moved away delicately, making sure you were still both covered with a blanket.

“Can you hand me that, love?” You pointed at your nightgown and your daughter picked it up to give it to you. You put it on over your head and let it fall down, allowing Buck to take more of the blanket for himself. He left the bed with it around his waist as if it was a towel and he picked up his own underwear from the carpet.

“I’ll go and inspect in a moment, “ he winked at Bobby and went to the bathroom.

When he left the bed with the blanket, you spotted your panties scattered somewhere down the mattress. You quickly grabbed them before the kids could notice and you turned your back on them on the edge of the bed to put them back on.

When you were completely dressed up again, you spotted that Minnie was already in the middle of your bed, laying her head on your pillow and cuddling her teddy bear.

“What are you doing, Minnie?” You asked her and caressed her hair.

“I want to sleep here tonight,” she gave you puppy eyes.

“But daddy will go there and show you that there are no monsters,” you assured her.

Gale left the bathroom at that very moment, already in his pyjamas. He carefully put the blanket over you and Minnie as he leaned in to kiss her forehead.

“You coming with me, young man?” He asked Bobby and the boy nodded, feeling important as he followed his father out of the bedroom.

Minnie moved closer to you and put her tiny arms around your waist. You sighed and kissed the top of her head with a smile. You already knew there would be no way you’d go back to your lovemaking tonight. Minnie was starting to doze off in your arms and you watched her sweet angel face lovingly. 

Buck and Bobby came back to your bedroom. Your husband had a playful smile on his lips and your heart skipped a beat at the sight. He was so adorable, you were so happy to be his wife.

“There are no monsters under the bed,” Gale ruffled his son’s hair as he stated. Then he raised an eyebrow at half-asleep Minnie.

“I guess she stays here tonight,” you whispered.

“Me too, then!” Bobby jumped inside the bed and laid beside his sister.

Minnie turned around and clinged to him adorably. Buck joined you all in bed and adjusted the blanket over you.

“You okay, baby?” He asked as he caressed your cheek.

“Yeah,” you nodded. The heat was long gone now, you were mostly sleepy. “And you, sweetheart?”

“Perfectly fine,” Buck assured you. He turned off the light on the bedside table and put his arm around his wife and babies, curled up together between their parents as they fell asleep; feeling safe and loved. Like you always wanted them to feel. It was the most important thing in the world for you.

When you woke up, the bed was already empty. You rubbed your eyes and glanced at the clock. It was nine already and you wondered how it was possible that you had been allowed to sleep for so long and no one had been trying to wake you up to prepare breakfast. The mystery was solved soon enough when Buck entered the bedroom quietly. He was still wearing pyjamas as well.

“Oh, you’re awake now,” he pointed out as he got under the blanket to greet you with a kiss. “You were sleeping so peacefully. I made them breakfast and now they’re watching the kids’ program on TV. That gives us about half an hour,” he pointed out in a whisper as he smirked.

“You’re so needy, Major Cleven,” you giggled and cupped his face.

“I’m starving, Mrs. Cleven,” he admitted before peppering your face with tiny sweet kisses. Once he was done, he focused on your exposed neck as his hips lowered down and you felt his erection between your legs already.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, you lifted yourself up and joined your lips together in a heated kiss as you got rid of each other’s clothes. You knew that you had no time to waste if you wanted to finally get the job done.

When you were both naked, hands wandering all around each other’s bodies while kissing and shushing each other, Gale pushed you down softly and positioned himself above you with his elbows on both sides of your head as you raised your thighs to put them around his waist and impatiently guide him inside you. He pressed his forehead to yours with a hiss at the feeling of your warm, wet and pulsating pussy. 

Your back arched as you threw your head back, exposing your neck even further for your husband’s sweet and needy kisses as his hips thrusted into you firmly, hitting all the right spots with military precision.

Just like on the night before, it didn’t take long for you to feel the reaching peak overtaking you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you gasped and dug your fingernails in his shoulders. Buck grunted softly and picked up his pace.

You came with a soft moan and he joined your lips together quickly to muffle the sounds leaving your mouth. He needed a few more chaotic thrusts before spilling himself inside of you as his eyes shut close and his sweaty forehead pressed to yours.

“God, finally,” you sighed with a chuckle and he smirked. You raised your hands to caress the scars on his cheeks gently.

“You better find them a nanny for the weekend,” he rubbed your nose with his, “because I don’t want you out of this bed for hours, Mrs. Cleven.”

You giggled like a schoolgirl at his words.

“Sir, yes, sir,” you nodded.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #*buck #gale cleven x reader #austin butler x reader #lilysfiction

[ikeuverse]

BIRTHDAY SURPRISE — p.jongseong

PAIRING: jay x fem!reader GENRES: fluff WC: 2.3k+

WARNINGS: maybe two swear words. just something simple for our jay's birthday.

NOTES: happy birthday to our black kitty and guitarist jay! i'm not 100% happy with this, but i wanted something quick just so i wouldn't spend his birthday doing nothing (and because i'm sick today), but all for our jay. i hope you like it!

masterlist

Jay was thrilled to be returning two days before his business trip. He wished he'd had time to tell his family and friends so they could organize a party to celebrate his birthday, but he only managed to call Heeseung and Sunghoon so they could pick him up at the airport.

Seeing his two best friends after passing through the arrivals gate, Jay breathed a sigh of relief because he could finally take his mind off work and go home. To his family.

"Hey, buddy" Sunghoon waved to him when he was close enough, welcoming him with a hug that Jay didn't even bother to reciprocate.

"Hey man, I missed you," Jay mumbled after letting go of Sunghoon and going to hug Heeseung.

"Awn, did he come back more sentimental?" Heeseung squeezed him in his embrace, hearing his friend laugh after releasing him.

"Italy does that to people," Jay said.

"So," the three of them started walking through the airport, Sunghoon making a point of carrying Jay's suitcase, assuming the boy was tired from his trip, "how did you find inspiration in another country?"

"Italy surprised me, I'll be honest" Jay walked between the other two "I think I'll be able to bring a lot of ideas to the restaurant."

Being a chef had its advantages, such as traveling to a country in search of something new for the menu, which Jay always made sure was sophisticated. He knew that after graduating in gastronomy he would never stop studying, because that was the fun of it, learning all the time in a vast culinary world. Where he knew he could get to know even more, learn even more, and make his restaurant the most talked about and visited in the country.

"Where are we going?" As soon as the three of them reached the car, Sunghoon put Jay's suitcase away and pulled up next to his friend, smiling.

"Oh, we managed to warn your mother and she wants to have a little get-together for your birthday," he shrugged as if it were a completely casual conversation.

Jay looked surprised, raising his eyebrows and even smiling a little more than usual.

"Really?" Jay's smile widened even more when his two friends agreed.

In his mind, it would be something very small indeed, as many friends as he could gather and a few relatives who lived close enough to give them time to get to Jay's parent's house for the reunion.

But little did he know about the plan hatched by Sunghoon, Heeseung, and you. Jay had no idea of the surprise that awaited him at his parents' house and perhaps that was the fun of it all because everyone wanted to see how he would react when he arrived.

"What's up Jay, did you tell Y/n you were back early?" Heeseung was in the passenger seat, Sunghoon driving and Jay was comfortably in the back. The two in the front didn't want to show too much to their new friend.

"I sent her a message, but she won't be able to make it," he sighed tiredly, running one hand through his dark hair "Since I traveled to Italy, she went to her grandmother's house on the other side of the country. We were going to celebrate my birthday by Facetime, so…"

"Oh, I'm sorry" he tried to send a sad smile – which he had rehearsed in the mirror with you and Sunghoon – because you had already told him that this would be Jay's answer when asked about you. Little did he know that his trip back had been part of the plan between Heeseung and Sunghoon, who wanted to do everything they could to get their friend back ahead of time.

Jay also had no idea that the trip to Italy had ended early thanks to the two friends in the car. They had expedited everything so that Jay would think he had finished things ahead of time and could return.

It had never been so easy to fool Park Jongseong, Sunghoon laughed the night before when he saw Jay's message telling him that he would probably make it back in time to spend his birthday with his friends.

The car journey continued with them catching up, Jay telling them about the things he'd done and hadn't managed to send a photo to his friends. Sunghoon wanted to scream when he talked about the sights he'd visited, making Jay promise to go back with the two of them so that he could show them everything he had to.

"And here we go" Sunghoon announced as soon as he stopped the car.

Jay's parents' house had always been very cozy, large, and bright. Jay remembered every moment he spent there with his two friends since high school. When they rang the doorbell to ask Jay to play video games, or when the three of them stayed out late at night on the front porch drinking beer and idealizing life after university.

That house had so many memories that Jay hadn't been able to stop smiling since he got back and was getting out of Sunghoon's car.

"We'll get your suitcase later, come on" he locked the car with the alarm after the three of them had left, letting Jay go ahead and walking very slowly so as not to spoil the surprise.

The plan was for him to get in first while Heeseung pretended to tie his sneakers in case Jay asked what was taking them so long, and Sunghoon would help him when Heeseung pretended to trip. Lucky for both of them, Jay just followed. Too eager to open the door to his parents' house.

"Wait for us, Jay!" Heeseung made sure to shout as loudly as he could to let Jay know he was near the door. The people inside the house were as quiet as possible so as not to spoil anything prematurely.

"You two are too slow, what's going on?" Jay turned quickly, seeing Sunghoon and Heeseung laughing as they slowly approached. Without missing a beat, Jay turned the handle and the door opened.

The cry of surprise caught in his throat as the house seemed much fuller than he would normally have thought. The balloons in the corners and his family and the rest of his friends were well positioned in the living room for the arrival of the – almost – birthday boy.

"What…" he turned to the two behind him.

"Surprise, man" Sunghoon held Jay by the shoulders while Heeseung ruffled his hair, excited that it was finally over.

"Hi, my son" Jay's mother was the first to approach, hugging him as tightly as she could. Jay hugged her back lovingly, conveying in that gesture how much he missed his mother.

The moment was spent with Jay greeting his family, and hearing congratulations on his birthday, even if it was only a few hours away. But he would accept because, from the amount of booze he heard Heeseung say, no one would be sober until midnight to remember to congratulate him.

Jay finished hugging his friends and inevitably looked for you among all those people, even though he knew it would be impossible for you to be there. Not because of the way Heeseung had apologized for mentioning you in the car.

He quickly took his cell phone out of his pocket to text you and was surprised when he picked it up and your name flashed on the screen. You were finally calling him.

"Hey, my love" Jay didn't even wait to answer, immediately hearing your voice.

"Hey, almost birthday boy" he could have sworn his heart was floating just from hearing your voice and your laugh, two sounds he missed very much "How was the trip back?"

"Great, I'm finally home" he said, looking around as he saw his friends interacting with his family "Hee and Hoonie threw a surprise party for me."

"Oh, really?" you tried to hold back the urge to murmur cute things because he was telling you that, hardly knowing that things were still over "And how did it feel?"

"It would be better if you were here, to be honest" Jay found a secluded corner in the living room where no one would mind if he stayed while talking to you on the phone.

"I wanted to be there too, love" your voice was sad now, thanks to your role-playing with Jay's two best friends. Everything had to be perfect for him to believe it "But I can't miss your birthday, can I?"

"What do you mean?" Jay asked. Eyebrows knitted together in curiosity, he looked up when he heard Sunghoon shouting excitedly to Sunoo and Jake about something they could do later as a group.

"Let's go, shall we, Jay?" he heard Sunoo ask from afar, nodding in agreement even though he didn't know what it was about.

"I sent you a present, I hope Heeseung and Sunghoon took good care of it."

"Babe? What…" Jay got up from the sofa to look for his friends, spotting Heeseung near one of his uncles and beckoning him over "What have you prepared for me, huh?"

"I can't tell you or it'll spoil the surprise."

"What?" Heeseung mumbled as he approached.

"Y/n said he has a surprise for me and it has help from you and Hoonie" Jay hadn't hung up the phone yet, knowing that you could hear the two friends talking.

"Hi, Y/n" Heeseung shouted enthusiastically and laughed when he heard, even low, your greeting to him "Okay, your present is outside."

"Outside?" Jay asked, not knowing if it was meant for you or Heeseung, but you both agreed at the same moment "Babe, what are you up to?"

"Getting up to something? Babe, I swear I did it with all my heart" Jay heard a noise behind your voice, as if you were fiddling with something, but as soon as he went to answer, the call ended.

"Shit" he looked at Heeseung and then at the cell phone with the call ended.

He'd asked Jay to call after he'd picked up the present, perhaps to tell you his reaction once he'd gotten it. Jay had no idea.

Walking up to the front door, he put his cell phone back in his pocket and opened the front door a little dejectedly. His eyes drooped even though it was for his surprise, but he didn't want to show how sad he was to have missed his call.

Or not. Now Jay was in complete shock. It wasn't possible that you were standing there in front of his parents' house.

"What the fuck?" Jay almost shouted.

"Oh" you pouted your lips, "I told you he wouldn't like the present, Heeseung."

Heeseung would have answered if it hadn't been for hurricane Jay, who burst through the door to take you in his arms. Hugging you tightly and spinning you around in the air.

Your laughter close to his ear was even better than over the phone, your voice calling his name was even more comforting than listening to you on a cell phone. Jay was on cloud nine.

"How…" he caught his breath after hugging you for long minutes, pulling his face away from your neck to meet your eyes as he leaned his forehead against yours "How did you all manage it?"

"Surprise you?" you asked, your warm hands running down Jay's cheeks and holding his face between your hands "Maybe because you deserve it after a long and tiring trip."

"I didn't know you were coming, I didn't know anything about it" Jay felt like running down the street shouting that this had been the best birthday of his entire life.

"We did our best to make everything perfect" you said.

"And it's only because I have you all with me" Jay whispered, sliding one hand around your waist and the other up to your face.

Finally he was able to feel your lips against his in a kiss he'd been needing ever since he got back. The taste of your lips and the gloss you were wearing mingled with his tongue as he rubbed the tip to ask for passage, soon tangling it against your tongue and pulling you even closer to him.

Jay wanted to eternalize this moment. Eternalize the vanilla-flavored kiss with a taste of longing that only you could provide.

"I love you so much" Jay whispered against your lips after he needed some air, but he didn't want to part with you so soon.

"I love you even more" you whispered back, kissing him again just in time to hear someone call his name from inside the house.

Now it was time to part, in fact, and intertwine our fingers in yours to enter the house.

"How about we start the party now before happy birthday?" Sunghoon stirred up the crowd, lifting a bottle of booze and filling a glass to hand out to anyone who felt like starting to drink.

Everyone celebrated together, wanting to start Jay's little surprise birthday party.

"I bet everyone's drunk by midnight" Jay leaned towards you to whisper, drawing a laugh from you.

In return, you leaned towards him to kiss him once more, accepting the glass Sunghoon had offered you when he passed you and Jay.

"Well, I bet they will be before then" you drank a little, handing the glass to Jay who also drank, choosing to share the alcohol with you so that neither of you would get drunk so quickly.

Looking around, Jay felt complete and fulfilled. He was lucky, and he wasn't even talking about having traveled out of the country a few days ago, but rather because he had something more valuable than any tourist spot: and that was all the people who were inhabiting his parents' house for his birthday at that moment.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #jay fluff #jongseong fluff #enhypen jay #park jongseong fluff #enhypen masterlist #enhypen x reader #jay x reader #jongseong x reader #happy jay day! #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines

[f0point5]

i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body

Me too! GOD. Me, too.

It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!

✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨

Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush

Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.

You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.

This guy must be really fucking interesting.

You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.

It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.

It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.

“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”

GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”

Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”

Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”

Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.

“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.

“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”

Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.

“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.

“Max,” GP sighs.

“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”

GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”

“I’m not jealous.”

And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.

Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”

You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.

“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.

GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”

You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.

“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.

Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.

“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.

The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.

“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”

“My what?”

“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.

He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.

Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.

He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?

He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.

“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.

He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.

“Right, so,”

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Wibta if I told my mom she loves a cat more than her own children.

I do feel like an asshole for this. I’m 17f and I have a younger sister 15F. My parents are married and for the most part good. When have a 12 year old cat that my mom just adores.

This part is all speculation, but when I very young like I was 5 or something my mom had an event that changed a lot. She stayed with her parents and would visits us. My grandparents would help out and no one really ever explained what happened to her but she lived there for like a year, she did move back in with us. My dad got her a cat to cope while she was away. The speculation is she had really bad post partum depression and had a break down. The reason I believe this/and this is my own theory, was when I was struggling mentally, my mom encouraged me to go to a therapist and they asked family history and she said she had struggled with depression/episodes and had tried medication but never stayed on. She just said when she was younger she had a hard time regulating emotions, and she wants me to worry about me and my own emotions. The post patrum comes from the fact that I asked my dad why did you two have kids and he admitted he wanted kids and my mom was more on the fence. I also find it weird she gets really nervous around Mother’s Day and will often try to not celebrate. (She always says she could be a better mom)

My mom is a good mom don’t get me wrong. She’s always encouraged my sister and I to try and do our hobbies. She’ll drive us where we gotta go. I know she works overtime when she wants to make sure we can do stuff for the family. It’s just sometimes, she seems more like a distant mom. She’ll listen to us, do anything asked, but idk how to put it into words.

But she really loves this cat. And I do love our cat too, but this cat and my mom are bonded. The second my mom comes home and the cat greets her and my mom picks her up and kisses her. She calls the cat her pretty princess and a hundred other nicknames. She calls me my dad and sister honey, bunny, and sunny. I know the cat actually makes my mom happy. Her eyes light up when she sees the cat. I know she looks forward to coming home to the cat. When we go on vacations she’ll miss the cat, or if she goes on a work trip she’ll always ask for pictures of the cat or ask to see the cat on FaceTime. She throws a small birthday party for the cat every year and makes a cake. For our birthdays she’ll ask what we want and sometimes she resorts to store bought desserts.

So this is where it gets bad. Our cat is now sick and probably has a year left to live. The vet told my mom she’s a good cat owner and has always done right for her, but with her age, treatment isn’t really the route because it’s not gonna prevent death, so just focus on making the cat happy and comfortable (this vet appointment was her 6 month check up.) My mom hasn’t been doing well mentally. She’s always struggled with mental health. She just seems to have a shakey mind at times if that makes sense. She very much before would hide her struggles, but we knew she’d have them. Before she would like stand still just gripping the counter with one hand. Now my mom is definetly depressed. She will come home be greeted by the cat, and go to her room and cry with the cat. She’s been just not happy.

My sister and I kinda decided to see if telling her we got good grades would cheer her up, and she’ll say good job and will sometimes offer to cook something or get something for us, but her eyes are just like very tired. (There is also an app she can use to check out grades but she never once used it and will just take our word face value) We’ve talked to my dad about this and he basically said that our mom has always loved animals (she use to work with her grandpa at a pet store he owned, but apparently her grandpa wasn’t a good person to most people in the family except her, so that was hard on her). I asked my dad what he thinks and says it’s normal for someone to be sad about this and that he’s gonna work hard or make sure we get all our needs handled. Which is nice, but I kinda wish it was my mom. I don’t feel dire need of anything, I’m just annoyed/jealous a cat can destroy my mom mentally.

My mom has gone over load for the cat. She cooks for her, makes her dinner buys the best food and mixes then. She often cries while cooking, and asks the cat if she likes the food.The cat doesn’t even know what’s happening.

I was looking at prom dresses online and asked my mom to look with me and she was just out of it. She would just say she’d like one or she’s not a fan but don’t let that discourage me. She’s just kinda lifeless. I try talking to her about it and she’ll aplogize and says she’ll get better. (It’s been like a week)

It boiled over when my mom’s sisters came over. (She’s the youngest. One sister has kids and one doesn’t) My mom tried to be happy and perky but ended up crying about the cat. Her sisters kinda said that she’s gotta be strong for her family and my mom just cried saying everything’s gonna be so much harder without the cat. I wasn’t in the room, they were in the basement, and there’s a vent where you can hear everything down there. My sister and I do easedrop to see what they say (her sisters are loud but we can never hear what my mom is saying without the vent. Normally we do it because my mom is a more different interesting person and again we don’t know our mom well. Away from us she kinda puts down the facade and actually talks). I was just angry. Her life isn’t hard. We’re middle class, if she wants to go to therepy she can afford it. We all deal with grief and loss. Yes I’m gonna be sad when our cat passes, but she is an older cat. I don’t imagine my life becoming “harder” other than my mom being depressed, but she is an adult who will heal from this.

After her sisters left and she was doing her night routine, I asked her if she loves the cat more than my sister and I. She said that’s not true and if she could do something more for my sister and I please name it. I told her that that’s the problem is that she does stuff for the cat without thinking, but for us it’s all asking us and she’s the adult she should know. She’s said she’s not a mind reader and she’s gonna rely on the information I give her to help me out where she can. I went to my room because ovbiosuly that conversation wasn’t going anywhere. I feel like my mom understands a cat more than her own daughter.

My dad came in a little while after and we talked. He assured me my mom loves me and this cat has been like an emotional support animal through the years. He mentioned my one friend who has an emotional support dog and compared them and told me that the cat has helped my mom emotionally with emotional regulation and just helps her steady herself. I asked if we were enough, or if my mom regrets having a family and she would just be happier if she just left us for the cat and lived by herself. My dad told me she loves all of us, but depression can be hard to navigate. I asked him about how he wanted us more than our mom and he just said that he was more excited, but my mom wouldn’t have had us unless she wanted us (which I don’t think is totally true.)

I went into my parents room and my mom was there with the cat. Again going to the cat for comfort. I told her I was sorry for saying she loved the cat more than us and she apologized for how her treatment towards the cat can seem that way and if I ever need anything please ask. It made me mad because she again is relying on me to know what’s wrong/ or ask, instead of her just idk taking initiative. I didn’t say that.

I get people can be mentally ill, but she’s also my mom. I do feel bad about telling my mom she loves a cat more than me, but I also don’t feel too reassured.

#aita #am i the asshole

[auteurdelabre]

A LITTLE SUN PART 7 (part II) Dieter Bravo x f!Reader

rating: 18+

tags: SMUT. Penetration, Oral (m and f receiving), use of 'daddy' (but you ain't into it), use of 'baby', Dieter being Dieter, fluff, like such tooth-rotting sweetness its almost gross, idiots in love, pregnancy, talk of pregnancy body changes/self esteem, love love love, family issues, mentions of parental death.

a/n: Tumblr is dumb and won't let me post the entire chapter in one post. ARGH. So below is part two.

HERE IS PART ONE OF THIS CHAPTER.

series masterlist

Your mother is pacing around the kitchen when the doorbell rings. With a muttered grumble she strides to the front door, tugging it open with a flourish. She expects to see her pregnant daughter there, what she doesn’t expect is a six foot movie star she hates to be flinching at her.

He’s wearing a short sleeved linen shirt, freshly pressed slacks and his usually unruly hair has been combed neatly.  He even got Magda to trim his beard for him. He wants to make a good impression.

"Hi," Dieter says, his stomach churning anxiously as your mother stares him down. "I'm Dieter-"

"I know exactly who you are," the woman snaps, arms crossing over her front. "What do you want? I’m afraid I don't have any more daughters for you to buy babies from."

She tries to look around his broad shoulders. "Where is my daughter by the way?"

Dieter shuffles back and forth, his expensive dress shoes scraping the ground. Suddenly all his bravado has left him and he feels much like a chastised child. 

"I wanted to talk to you," Dieter explains. "Just you and me if that’s okay?"

Your mother's brows knit angrily. "So she couldn't even be bothered-"

"She doesn't know I'm here," Dieter interjects.

He goes to say something more when he thinks he notices a car slowing down up the block. Paparazzi. Your mother notices as well because she ushers Dieter into the house, closing the door behind him sharply. 

"You have five minutes." 

Dieter slips off his shoes and follows her to the couch, about to launch into his speech when he sniffs the air.

"Are you baking?"

"Cinnamon bread. My daughters favorite," your mother says, eyes misting. She regards Dieter a moment, softening. "Would you like a piece?" 

"I'd love one." 

He takes a seat on the couch as ordered, watching as your mother brings out a tray holding several slices of cinnamon bread, a tea pot and two mugs.

“This is so fuc- darn delicious,” Dieter corrects himself, wiping the crumbs from his fingers on his pants, much to your mother’s dismay. “I love it.”

Your mother offers a small grunt by way of reply, watching him eat and taking small sips of her tea. Dieter notices you both hold your cups the same way, forefinger and pinky slightly out. It makes him long for you, wishing you were here with him as he attempts this conversation.

But you can’t be, he knows you’re too stubborn for it. Judging by how your mother is looking at him now, it’s a familial trait.

“I wanted to come over and try to explain things.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” your mother snaps, her teacup placed on the coffee table. “You and my daughter made a baby, she’s selling it to you and she never told me.”

"I'm sorry it was a secret for so long,” Dieter says. “It's just because of my notoriety that we had to keep it under wraps.”

“From the world, I understand, but from her own mother?” She shakes her head. “Do you know how hurtful that is? To find out your only child is pregnant because of the tabloids? To think you’re going to be a grandmother and then find out she’s selling the baby off?”

“She signed an NDA," Dieter explains with a wince, knowing how awful it sounds. "I'm so sorry. She hated to do it. It was my fault."

"And your mother?" Your mom huffs. "I bet she knew she was going to be a grandma before the tabloids di-"

She breaks off, irritated when she sees the hollow look in Dieters eyes.

"My uh, my mom isn't alive," Dieter says, fingers tapping anxiously at his side. "She died when I was in my twenties."

"Your father?"

Dieter shakes his head, wincing. Your fierce mother immediately softens her tone, her shoulders lowering.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“You shouldn’t be sorry to me about anything,” Dieter says in a soft rasp. “I’m the one who you should be mad at. Not your daughter.”

Your mother wraps her arms around herself. "How is she?"

"Hurt. She misses you."

"Must not miss me much. She's made no attempt to call."

"She's worried about what you'll say. Your opinion matters so much to her, you know that. Especially with her dad gone."

Your mother swallows. "They were so similar. So stubborn and..."

Suddenly the dam behind the woman's eyes breaks and Dieter watches her face crumple. 

"I just wish he was here," she says, shoulders shaking. Dieter feels his own eyes filling with tears, his heart aching in tandem. He can't help but reach out and cover her hand with his. 

"I’m so sorry."

"If he was here he would know exactly what to say," your mother continues, allowing his hand to remain over hers. "Michael could always get through to her when I couldn't."

“My mom knew me in a way my dad never did,” Dieter offers after a moment. “Knew exactly the right thing to say at the right time. It’s hard not having that. But you still have time with your daughter. Time that’s wasting with you two being mad at each other.”

Your mother blinks up at Dieter, a slow understanding reflected in her swimming eyes. As if she’s seeing him properly for the first time. He continues on, encouraged that it’s been over five minutes and she hasn’t kicked him out yet.

“And I know you think this whole thing with the baby is a spontaneous decision and that I’m massively immature and yeah, I can be. But you need to know that when your daughter told me she was pregnant it was the best day of my life," Dieter says, his voice thick with emotion.

He takes a moment, swallowing and blinking furiously. His hand tightens around your mothers’.  

“But I’m not that guy anymore. I’ve changed. She’s changed me, my son has changed me. I’m not perfect, but I also don’t think there’s anyone in the world that will love your da—grandson more than me.”

Your mother blinks rapidly, her weathered face softening further. “My grandson?”

“If you want him to be,” Dieter explains, suddenly unsure. “If your daughter is okay with it. I don’t have any parents in my life. It would be nice for him to have a grandmother.”

Any lingering distaste your mother may have held for Dieter is wiped away in that moment. The sincerity in his wide dark eyes and the nervous way he twists the rings on his fingers endears her further.

“And I know you’re upset with her about all of this but I promise I’ll take care of her for the rest of her life,” Dieter finishes, his eyes glassy. “Even if she’s in Sacramento doing school. Even if she never wants to see me or our son. I want to make her happy and that means taking care of you too. The house is paid for; your daughter will be taken care of.”

Your mother’s hands move from under Dieter’s to over, clasping his wide hands tightly. She has a gentle smile on her face now, the anger gone from her voice.

“I thank you Dieter. That is a kindness that touches my heart. Knowing I can remain in the same house I raised my family in means more to me than you realize. But it wasn’t your place to do it.”

“I know.”

“I can’t accept it.”

“Please,” Dieter begs with his big brown eyes so round and sorrowful your mother has to blink back a new onslaught of tears. “She’s giving me the world. The rest of your mortgage is nothing in comparison to that.”

Your mother can’t help but laugh out loud at the earnestness in his expression. He grins crookedly as she laughs, wiping tears from her lash line. He waits until she sobers, shaking her head with a small smile on her face.

“Alright, I accept it. But only if you’ll let me cook you dinner every once in a while.”

“And cinnamon bread?”

“And cinnamon bread,” your mother says laughing again.  “As for taking care of my daughter? That is something you’ll have to take up with her. But be warned she’s even more stubborn than me.”

“Don’t I know it,” Dieter grins shyly, causing the two of them to chuckle between themselves softly.

“I’ll call her,” your mother says resolutely. “I need to apologize and tell her she can move back home if she wants.”

Dieter immediately stiffens. He hadn’t thought about this part.

"Actually if its okay I want her to stay with me until the baby is born," Dieter explains, curls falling into his eyes, his mannerisms anxious. "I like having my son nearby."

"And perhaps having my daughter nearby too?" Your mother peers into his face with a small curl of her lips.  “You care for her. More than a boss for an employee. Or a father for a surrogate.”

Dieter looks overcome for the moment, his dark eyes on the floor. He doesn’t know how to respond.

“That’s between you two,” your mother acknowledges. “It’s not my place to say anything.”

Before Dieter can say anything in reply he hears the sound of a frantic key turning in the lock and the front door is thrust open. 

The two of them whip their heads in the direction of the front door to see you stumbling into the house, slamming the door behind you. Your hair is wild, your face flushed and you look extremely pissed off. You look at the two of them on the couch and your brows knit.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

"How did-"

"Magda," you answer before Dieter can finish the question. "Why the fuck are you here at my house with my mom?"

You watch as your mom rises from the couch next to Dieter. Her eyes are wet and when she gazes at your very full stomach she gives a soft little gasp. 

"Honey-"

"Don't honey me," you snap, feeling angry tears welling in your eyes as you glare over at Dieter. "Let's go, Dieter."

"Baby, wait-" Dieter starts, pausing only when you whip back around to fix him with a leveling glare.

He looks so sorrowful standing there between you and your equally broken-looking mother that you find yourself relenting. You have an idea on why he’s here and even if it wasn’t his place you can’t deny that it was kind of him to try.

"Go wait in the kitchen, please."

Dieter opens his mouth to suggest something else but the glint to your eyes has him slamming it shut and nodding. You wait until he's shuffled into the next room before looking back at your mother. 

"Baby?" Your mom ventures gently. 

"He calls everyone that," you lie. 

She nods slowly but you know she doesn't believe you. Your mother also knows you well enough that she doesn’t attempt to sway you.

"Here, come take a seat," she offers motioning to the couch. "Your ankles must be swollen."

You lift a surprised brow but you waddle over to her, settling into the seat with an exhale. You look at Dieter’s leftover cinnamon bread crumbs and frown. How long was he here for? You look back to your mother, shocked at her gentle countenance. You’d expected anger or frustration, instead you see only regret.

"How did you know about the ankles?"

"I was the same when I was pregnant with you," she says coming to sit on the other end of the couch. "I carried high like you as well."

"Really?" You absently drape your fingers over the curve of your stomach.

"Oh yes," your mother smiles, eyeing your bump.

As you sit there discussing this with shy smiles you wish that this pregnancy was normal. That you had a husband and excited family that threw you a baby shower for a child you'd be able to bring home and care for at the end of it all. 

You wish your mom felt comfortable to place her hands on your stomach and to care for this little boy you carry. But she’s holding back her emotions, not wanting to get attached.

After several moments your mom shuffles closer to you on the couch, her hand coming to cup not your stomach, but your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” your mom says, and you’re shocked at the tears pooling in her eyes. “I never wanted… I just… I acted shamefully.”

“I don’t understand why,” you explain, chin wobbling. “We’ve always had a great relationship. Or I thought we did.”

“I thought we did too,” your Mom acknowledges. “But considering you kept this a secret I think I might have done something wrong along the way. You never should have been afraid to come to me with this.”

You don’t know how to answer that.

“You won’t understand until you’re a -” you mom catches herself. “A parent provides for their children, not the other way around. I felt ashamed that you felt you needed to take care of me.”

For a moment you look at her not as your mother, but as a woman. A tired woman who sacrificed so much to see you taken care of and your heart cracks. 

“I like taking care of you Mom,” you explain, swallowing the tears there. “I love you. You’re all I have left. Fighting with you these past few weeks has been awful.”

“I know honey,” your mom says and now she pulls you into her arms, rocking you as if you were still that child who ran to her with a scraped knee or boy troubles. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”

“Of course I do,” you say, burying your face in her shoulder as you let the tears flow. For the first time since your father died the two of you cry together, arms wrapped around one another, your son nestled between the two of you. Finally sniffling you pull back, wiping at your eyes.

“Were you mean to Dieter?”

“Tried to be,” your mother replies with a grin. “Impossible to be though. He’s very sweet.”

“He’s been amazing through this whole thing,” you answer honestly, feeling the need to sing his praises to the woman who usually derides him. “He’s been the most supportive, caring version of himself I’ve ever seen. Sober, sweet and I love being around him.”

Your mother’s eyes search yours intensely, so much that you blink wondering what she’s looking for.  Her gaze breaks when a shy Dieter knocks on the wall separating the two rooms.

“Uh, is it okay if I come in?”

Your mother laughs. “We’ll come to you. My daughter needs some cinnamon bread.”

The two of you stand, your mom helping you before letting her hand fall briefly to your swollen belly. You watch her face beaming as she does before her eyes go to yours.

“My baby having a baby,” she murmurs.

The two of you enter into the kitchen hand in hand. Dieter is standing by the sink, his hair even more wild than usual. He was obviously running his hands through it anxiously.

Dieter approaches you both slowly, as if he’s concerned one of you will be furious. When he sees the easy smile in both of your faces and your clasped hands he feels the tightness in his chest release.

“Thank you, Dieter,” you tell him gently as he approaches. He doesn’t push it, doesn’t ask you to elaborate. He just nods his head, smiling and coming to stand next to you. Your mother releases your hand, coming to stand in front of you both.

“Now you can retire,” Dieter offers with a hopeful look in your mother’s direction.

“No,” your mom says shortly, drawing both sets of eyes her way. You feel yourself deflate, closing your eyes for a steadying moment. You can’t stand the cruelty she’s still holding in her heart for Dieter after everything.

“Mom-“

“No, I like my job,” your mother tells Dieter, ignoring you. She comes to stand in front of him, having to look up due to her short stature. “I enjoy it. So I won’t retire. But I will work less and try to enjoy more of my life.”

You both break into easy grins.

“Yes ma’am.”

Your mother’s smile dims a fraction as she gazes between the two of you.

“Dieter has offered me a chance to be the baby’s grandmother,” your mother says quietly. “But that will be your decision my love. I won’t do anything that you’re uncomfortable with.”

You swallow. “Do you want to be his grandmother? Even if I’m not in the picture? Even if we have no legal right?”

“I would,” your mother replies without hesitation. You turn your head to face the taller man to your left.

“And you’re really okay with it, Dieter?”

“More than okay.”

Dieter’s eyes are on the ground, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions. He wishes his own mother was here, wishes she could have met you. He knows that she would have loved you.

“Then I’m okay with it,” you murmur.

He’s so grateful that his baby will have a grandmother. Even if you want nothing to do with him he’ll forever have this tie to you.

Your mother glances over at Dieter before stepping towards him. 

"Let me see your face," your mother demands cupping Dieter's stubbled cheeks in her hands and forcing his eyes to hers. A few quiet minutes pass, their eyes in silent communion before you see both sets watering.

You watch in shock as your mother leans forward and in an act so naturally maternal kisses Dieter's forehead gently.

"You're a good man," she tells him gently. "A good man who acts silly sometimes."

When tears slip down Dieter’s cheeks you feel your jaw drop.  Your mother pulls him into a tight hug, rocking him as they stand, murmuring something into his wild hair. You breathe unsteadily when his own arms go to wrap around her waist, clinging to her. He looks like a lost boy finding harbor in the embrace of his mother, his shoulders shaking gently as she soothes him in her arms.

She looks over at you, smiling gently. She tugs you over into her arms as well and before long the three of you are embracing standing in the middle of your mom's messy kitchen.

"Will you two stay for dinner?" Your mother asks eyes hopeful when the three of you break apart, all sets of eyes glassy.  

"That would be so great," Dieter says excitedly before you can answer, rubbing at his wet eyes. He wants to take advantage of being in your home. He wants to see where you grew up, where you exist when you're not with him. 

"You're Chilean right?"

"Part, yeah."

"Right, I'm going to pop out to the market," your mom says with a wide grin as she picks up her car keys. "I'll be back in a flash."

Your mother is gone excitedly out the door before you can even process what’s happening. That you’re having dinner with your boss and your mom and your unborn child. It’s all a bit much. And yet the thought warms you.

“So do I get a tour?”

“Sure,” you say grinning. Without thought you take his hand, guiding him through the hall pointing out the rooms, giving small synopsis like “this is where I was standing when my first boyfriend called and broke up with me” and “this is where I fell in the tub and cracked my tooth”

“And you know my bedroom,” you tell him with a smirk. “Very acquainted with the closet, I believe.”

He grins before taking his time looking around your room. Last time he’d been in a rush, but today he looks at everything. He sees the framed photo of you on horseback, the science ribbons for first and second place. He notices a trophy for high school tennis. He grins at the poster of Cillian Murphy behind your door. He sees the Polaroid’s of you and your friends stuck to your mirror.

“You never mention your friends,” Dieter observes pointing at the photo. “How come?”

“I never see them,” you shrug coming over to peer at them. “They all got married, had kids. I was in school and then I was working and we kind of just lost touch.”

“Do you miss them?”

“Honestly? Sometimes. But school and my career just always seemed more important.”

“You don’t think you could have both? A career and a family?”

“Not really,” you shake your head. “Can’t have it all.”

“Why not?”

“I dunno,” you shrug again. “Something has to give.”

“Only if you have a shit partner,” Dieter offers.

Before you can say anything more he’s gone to your bookshelf, looking at the tomes that reside there and muttering their titles under his breath. You watch him just existing in this room, before your reason for rushing over here affronts you.

“Did you pay off my Mom’s mortgage?”

“Yeah,” Dieter replies after a beat, twisting to face you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

You stare at Dieter as he says this, the passion in his voice overwhelming you. Since when was this his plan? You’re supposed to take the three hundred grand and go.

“Why do that? You knew I was going to do it.”

“I wanted that money to be for you,” Dieter explains. “Not taking care of the mortgage and everything else. I’d pay for your school too but something tells me you’d refuse that.”

“Correct.”

“Your mother was right, you are stubborn.”

This gets a shocked laugh out of you. “What else did you two talk about?”

“That’s between her and me,” he says with a supercilious look on his face. “I think she might like me better than you at this point.”

Affection swims through your limbs and it carries you to him. Without warning your hands go to his shoulders, mouth pressing gently to his. He accepts this eagerly, his wet tongue dabbing against yours gently.

"Thank you," you whisper against his full mouth. "But you don't have to take care of me."

"I like taking care of you," Dieter murmurs, his nose tracing yours. "You spent so long taking care of me and everyone else; let me take care of you now."

You nod; kissing him again and feeling him slowly back you towards your bed.

“Mia,” you remind him.

“Its fine,” he assures you, hands tugging at the hem of your shirt.

“I’m not going to sleep with you when you’re in a relationship, Dieter.”

“I’m not,” he promises you, “I swear.”

You want to press him for more information. But more than that, you just want Dieter. You need to be as close to him as possible. You need to feel his bare skin on yours, inhale the crook of his neck, taste his lips.

And when he gently urges you onto your back in your childhood bed you don't fight him. You allow him to bring down your shorts and panties and even though you can't see anything other than his hair over your belly you can't stop the gasp that escapes you when his mouth begins to work over your core.  

Moments later after you've come spectacularly for him, groaning out his name with your thighs quivering against his ears and your hands fisting through his hair, he crawls up next to you on the bed. 

He traces over your abdomen, his dark eyes ever widened in wonder as he feels his son underneath his palm. Sunlight filters in through your bedroom window, giving him a haloed effect as he gazes down at you, his mouth swollen and damp.

"I don't know how I'm going to go back to normal life," you smile sleepily as you run a finger along his lower lip. "After being spoiled by Dieter Bravo school is sure going to pale in comparison." 

Dieter keeps the smile frozen on his face but inside his stomach drops.  Your schooling is going to start soon. He’s going to be separated from you. He feels his sons foot kick him and you both giggle. At least he’ll have this part of you.

He helps you into your panties and shorts before your mother returns shortly after. If she notices your flushed cheeks and Dieters extra mussed hair she doesn't comment on it. 

"I cheated," your mom says with a mischievous little smile that Dieter thinks looks identical to yours as she hands you both your plates when you come to sit at the dining table. "There's a wonderful Latin restaurant in town. They make the best palta." 

The food is just as good as she made it seem. Between the palta and the Estofado and variety of empanadas you’re quickly overwhelmed with taste. You take your time savoring it though, making a note to try more Chilean food in the future.

“So I guess I’ll move back tomorrow,” you say after a hot bite of your stew. “I only have the two suitcases.”

Nothing about moving back appeals to you, aside from seeing your mother on a regular basis. You know for a fact that being away from Dieter will hurt, but perhaps that’s for the best. You need to separate yourself from this silly fantasy.

"You can move back here at any time my love," your mom enthuses before casting a quick look at Dieter's downturned face. "But I think it would be best if you stayed at Dieter's. He has all that space and a pool and that chef-"

"But I don't like to think of you here all by yourself," you insist.

"Honey, don't worry about me. I lived with your father and then you for over thirty five years. I need a break."

You sputter a surprised laugh at this. This whole time you had been painting your mother as this sad tragic figure, when really she's a woman coming into her own just as much as you are. You swallow your mouthful, eyes darting to the man at your left.

"Is it okay if I stay at your place a little longer, Dieter?"

"Of course," Dieter enthuses through a mouthful of avocado. "I told you, stay as long as you like. And now your Mom can come visit whenever she likes."

You smile at this, holding in the urge to kiss him.

When Dieter rests his arm on the back of your chair during the rest of dinner you don't even register it happening. When his fingertips absently trace your upper arm as he listens to your mom talking about her job you don't notice. 

But your mom notices. She notices it all.

On the drive back home your mind is a muddle of things. But mostly your heart swells with the knowledge that Dieter, a man you always thought was chronically selfish did this for you at no gain for himself.

"You didn't have to do that for me," you tell him as you walk back into Dieter’s home a short while later. He’s quiet with a faraway look in his eyes.  

"I know. I just wanted to help."

The two of you are heading to the kitchen, about to put away the leftovers your mother insisted on sending home with you. Dieter takes them from your hands with a soft “I got it” before popping them in the fridge.

Dieter had always struck you as self-centered, the entire time you worked for him. From the flippant way he spoke to people in the industry he disliked, to the cavalier attitude towards other PA’s.

But right now all you can think of is the way he's continually showed up for you. The way he supports you in not only this pregnancy but your schooling, your family, your goals. You see a change in him, one that takes your breath away.

“Dieter?”

“Yeah?”

He sees your eyes and the way they go dark the longer you stare at him. The desire is so clear in your expression.  

He crosses the room and his mouth comes to yours, petal soft. He sighs, hands coming to either side of your neck, thumbs propped against your jaw. You lean into the kiss, your belly sandwiched between the two of you.

"Take me to bed, Dieter."

Dieter doesn't hesitate, his arm bands around your waist guiding you to the bedroom. 

He takes his time undressing you, kissing every part of your flesh he uncovers. He kisses the stretch marks on your belly, and he caresses the extra flesh that pads your body with a reverence that makes you teary.

Your stomach is getting too large for missionary so he sweetly urges you to roll onto your side, not doing anything until you’re comfortable. Only then does he makes sweet and gentle love to you, your head on his arm as he fills you slowly, watching the way your body responds to him.

He holds you delicately at first, not wanting to be too rough. But you’re eager, so fucking eager, and your hand goes to his hip, urging him to go harder, to go faster.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, your thigh over his, your body slowly being pumped into by him. You’re arching, whimpering his name as he holds you against him. Every stroke feels like adoration, every graze of his fingers against your clit feels like more than just desire.

“I need to hear you come, baby,” he murmurs, his nose running along your temple. You turn your face to him, kissing him gently as his thrusts deepen, his lips hot and needy.

“Wanna come for you,” you gasp, your body starting to clench around him tighter and tighter before your head is tilted back against his throat as you cry his name. Your body spasms as arousal coats his cock still buried within you.

“So good for me, so fucking good,” Dieter groans, his thrusts becoming erratic. Before long his eyes roll back and he’s emptying himself into you, hands gripping your chest and cunt, needing you as close as possible.

Slowly your breathing slows and you both grow drowsy. But before you fall asleep you roll until you’re facing him. He looks so beautiful staring back at you with sleepy eyes and his curls spread out on his pillow.

You kiss him gently, hand at his collar before pulling back.

"Dieter, I think you're gonna make an amazing father."

Something about the sincerity in your voice moves him to tears that he has to blink back. He draws you closer to him under the duvet, needing the warmth of your skin, the closeness of your body.

"Do you really mean that?"

"Every word."

Dieter is on a unicorn floaty, half dozing in the late morning sunshine when you ask him.

"Dieter, will you tell me about your mom?"

It comes out of nowhere one day in the pool. You're half stretched out on a purple pool noodle, your lower half submerged in the clear water as you kick lazily. Dieter turns his head when you ask him. 

"What about her?"

You shift on your pool noodle, getting comfortable. "What was she like?"

Dieter takes a moment to compose his thoughts. His lower lip tends to stick out when he does it. 

"Funny. Smart. Dramatic like me." Dieter grins. "She died when I was in my early twenties and sometimes I wanna be furious about all the time I didn't get to spend with her. But then I count myself lucky I had two decades." 

You don't say much to that. You don't know why but you crave more knowledge about Dieter that isn't surface level. You crave more from him, almost like you need to know him better than anyone. 

"She's the one who encouraged me to go into acting," Dieter continues. "She worked two jobs so she could pay for my acting classes."

"Really?" 

"Yeah. She was so excited when I got the scholarship to RADA," Dieter says dragging his hand through the water. 

"She sounds amazing."

"She would have loved you," Dieter says before he can stop himself. For some reason this comment causes your heart to flip. 

He looks momentarily lost in thought before turning his gaze to you. His eyes scan the freckles starting on your shoulders, the light that shines in your hair. He's dazzled for a moment before he remembers that he wanted to ask you something. 

 "What about you? What was your dad like?" 

A little smile breaks out over your features. You rarely talk about your father but right now all that comes to you are good memories. 

"Smart. Scary smart actually. Like, every time we played wheel of Fortune he'd guess it within like the first two letters," you laugh gently. "He was the first person I told about my Masters program. The first person I told about a lot of stuff. He was always my cheerleader." 

"Sounds like a great dad."

"He loved your movies," you say, kicking your feet in the water gently. "He made me sit through a Cliff Beasts marathon one year for his birthday."

Dieter almost falls off his floaty in shock. 

"No shit. Really?"

"Yeah," you give a giggle before turning a bit reserved. "He and your mom would have gotten along, I think.”

"Bet they would have been the most amazing grandparents," Dieter says in a faraway voice.

"Definitely."

Dieter shifts in the unicorn, causing it to squeak. His sunglasses are slid back up his nose and he grows somber. 

"You must be excited about starting school again," Dieter says tightly hoping the disapproval in his voice isn't obvious.

He looks over at you when you don't reply right away. You look conflicted, almost guilty as you glide a hand through the water in front of you. 

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm continuing on with school and everything because that's what I was doing when my dad died," you offer solemnly. 

"Are you?"

"Not sure. When he died I thought it was such a natural next step to use my biology background and go into research." A niggle of doubt is there at the back of your head. "But I'm not sure that's what I want anymore."

"So you might not go back?"

Dieter hopes the eagerness in his voice isn't too obvious. 

"I don't know," you answer honestly before sliding off the pool noodle and paddling in place. "I'm tired. I think I'm gonna have a nap."

Dieter watches you walk up the steps of the pool, ass twitching as you grab a towel and head into the main house. But that's not what causes the grin to start on his face.  

You're not sure about going back to school. 

There's hope. 

"Just this once," Dieter murmurs, his teeth skating along your pulse point. "C'mon baby." 

You’re on all fours, your stomach supported by a variety of pillows. Dieter is behind you, hands on your hips, his body tilting over yours. It’s a Saturday night and he’s just got back from a particularly boring table read.

His hands found yours without question when he got home not long ago, pulling you along with him to bed and whispering into your ear the one thing he’s wanted to hear since he got you pregnant.

You sigh heavily, eyes closed as he sinks into you.

"Please make me come… Daddy.” 

Dieter groans lowly in his throat, his cock driving into you deeply. You're too overwhelmed by the sensation to be turned off by the honorific. And if he’d just left it at that, you could have continued without further distraction.

But Dieter is completely turned on by the expression, his hands coming to hold yours to the mattress as he tilts his mouth to your temple.

"Yeah, you made me a Daddy," Dieter breathes against your ear as he thrusts. "You like that? Huh? Daddy fucking you?" 

“Not at all,” you cringe, unable to help yourself from laughing. The entire ‘Daddy’/‘Mommy’ thing has never turned you on.  “I hate it worse than baby mama.”

Dieter sighs, his motions slowing. "C'mon."

"It's creepy," you tell him. "I don't like the Daddy thing."

"Fine," Dieter grumbles as his motions slow further. "Just wanted a little dirty talk is all."

Dieter’s thrusting has gone from staccato-ed to completely still. You glance over your shoulder at him with your brows raised. His cheeks are red, he’s embarrassed. Dieter rarely gets embarrassed like this and you find it completely endearing.

 “I was just trying to have a little fun,” Dieter pouts, about to pull out of you.

“Hey hey, I like fun,” you tell him, wrapping your hand around the back of his neck so he can’t leave in a huff. You start to push back against his length, gratified when you hear him give a muffled whimper into your shoulder.

“Like maybe you tie me up sometime?”

“You’d let me do that?” Dieter asks in awe, his cock slipping further into you. You groan at the sensation, arm dropping as you gain purchase on the mattress once more. His thrusting is increasing in tempo again, stoking that pleasured spot within you.

“Yeah,” you breathe softly. “Yeah, I would.”

And you mean it. You’ve never done it with anyone else, but you would with Dieter. He doesn’t do things harsh and cruel. He touches you reverently. You trust him. “I’d let you tie my wrists and ankles,” you tell him, body arching as he continues to thrust. “Let you have your way with me.”

Dieter gives a guttural choke at the very thought of it. You tied up, spread eagle on his bed so he could go down on you for hours. Pulling delicious fucking noises from you as you writhe for him.

“Would you want that?” you tease, knowing very well he would.  “Having me at your mercy, Dieter?  Fucking me exactly how you want?”

“Yes,” Dieter almost shouts, “fuck yes I would. Please…. Fuck I…”

His forehead dips to your shoulder blade as he pulls you back and forth against his length, jutting his hips forward. You feel so good, so silken and tight and perfect and he can’t believe this is happening. That you’ve fallen into this comfortably rhythm of give and take. That you can be vulnerable with him like this.

“How would you fuck me?” you ask, feeling your climax approaching. “Tell me, Dieter, I’m so close.”

“Would eat you out for hours. Wouldn’t…. wouldn’t be able to help myself,” Dieter grunts, his cock quickly pressing into you over and over. “Then I’d turn you over...a-and I’d tie your wrists together, mmmph…. And I’d…I’d-“

Dieter doesn’t get to finish that thought because he feels you hit your peak, whining out his name as you climax. Dieter feels your cunt milking his cock and his voice croaks out some garbled gibberish as he empties himself into you.

You fall asleep not long after that, your naked body glowing in the moonlight like some goddess of myth. He realizes he would do anything to keep you like this. Happy and sated and with him.

But mostly, he wants you to want him. 

"You said you got into RADA right?"

"Yeah, but I didn't go," Dieter says as he goes over his latest script suggestion from his agent. "Got a reoccurring part in a soap opera a few weeks before I was starting and then the first Cliff Beasts and then, well, you know the rest."

"Do you still have your audition tape?" 

"It's on YouTube. Some asshole uploaded it when I got nominated for my Oscar."

"Really? Can we watch it?"

"Knock yourself out."

Dieter watches you waddle to the tv room, excitedly bringing YouTube up on the television and typing Dieter Bravo RADA audition. 

You sit on the couch, looking eagerly up at the screen. A very fresh-faced Dieter pops up. 

"Oh my gosh you're so young!" You say with a girlish giggle. "So weird to see you without a beard."

Dieter can't help but casually make his way over to the couch, plopping down next to you and watching his younger self. 

"Hi my name is Dieter Bravo and I would like to submit myself for acceptance into your program," the young Dieter says, eyes bright and smile big. "Today I'll be performing Gloumov’s monologue from The Diary of a Scoundrel” by Alexander Ostrovsky."

"Your voice is so different."

The young Dieter positions himself slightly to the left of the screen. 

"Barely out of puberty." Dieter casts a critical eye over his formerly svelte frame. "And about fifty pounds lighter."

"I like how you look now," you answer honestly. "More manly."

Before Dieter can accept that compliment his younger self is starting the scene. 

"Look into my eyes. Can’t you see there that I’d rather die than cause you a moment’s pain?"

Young Dieter takes a moment, his dark eyes beguiling as he stares into the camera, overcome, before continuing. And there on the screen You see the same transformation that you saw back on set in Ireland. Where Dieter becomes the character. 

"Oh, if you only knew how many times your sweet, gentle smile has stopped me on the very brink of impropriety," the young Dieter pauses, his eyes shiny. 

"But even that day when I forgot myself, you didn’t turn me from the house! Oh, my God, what happiness you’ve given me. What happiness, what happiness!"

A tear is shining on young Dieter's cheek as he gives a soft smile into the camera, a look of relief on his face. 

"Holy shit," you breathe, eyes wide. "Dieter that was ... Really good."

"You sound surprised."

"Well I guess ... I've only really seen you in the Cliff Beasts movies. I didn't know you could, you know, act-act."

"You thought I won an Oscar for having a great personality?"

You give him a playful shove as Dieter's younger self comes back to the screen. 

"Thank you for your time. Hope I see you in the fall."

Dieter plucks the remote from the coffee table about to change it to something less him. He tires of seeing his face on televisions and phones and sides of buses. 

Something captures his attention though, one of the suggested videos on the right. 

"Hmmm, there's a video on home births," Dieter says as he navigates the screen. "Wanna watch? Might prep us."

"Sure."

Thirty minutes later Dieter pauses the television, both of you sitting shell-shocked next to one another. 

"That was a terrible idea."

"I agree."

The camera had captured everything. In HD detail. Up close. Including a very vivid image of a baby crowning.

"That's what's gonna happen to me?" You say in a high pitched voice, struggling to your feet. "I can't do that!"

You've been reading books ever since the strip turned pink, but actually seeing it is totally different.

"A little late for that," Dieter says from the couch watching you begin to pace back and forth in front of the television. 

"That was disgusting," you say with a particularly aggressive jab of your finger towards the television. "Did you know about the placenta? It's like I have to give birth twice!"

"At least it's not twins," Dieter offers weakly. He doesn't miss the irritation that flashes in your eyes. 

"Should we watch the rest?"

"Your call," Dieter shrugs. You take a moment, looking at the television paused on a serious looking doctor. 

You take your seat next to Dieter once more. "Okay. I'm ready."

Twelve minutes later the movie is shut off indefinitely.

"An episiotomy?" You practically shriek before leaving the room. "If that happens I'm charging you extra, Bravo!"

Your mother starts to come over weekly for coffee. The first time she does you show her the nursery. She's all smiles and wet eyes as she walks around the space. You know she's marveling at the high-end designer items, the impossibly soft sheets and ornately carved crib. You never grew up with expensive things like that. 

When the two of you make your way into the kitchen and you make her a coffee she smiles up at you. 

"Dieter told me about the charity he's thinking of creating."

You almost drop the espresso cup that you're holding. "You talk with Dieter?"

"Of course," she nods. "He calls me to update me on the baby and texts the odd photo every now and again."

"What?!"

You're struck dumb by this. Your mother barely texts you, and now she's best friends with your boss? She smiles at your discomfiture.  But you’re blown away, and a little irritated since you also send your mom updates via email almost daily when she’s not here for her weekly (decaf) coffee checkups and snuggles.

"You fit right in here."

"I'm just part of the scenery until the baby gets here" you smile pouring her the coffee and sliding the mug towards her across the counter. "Then it's back to school and on my way to a PhD for research."

You slice up the carrot cake that Petra made for your visit (along with your help), sliding a plate to your mother and taking one for yourself.

"I wanted to talk to you about that," your mom says, gaze curious. "Why are you doing the PhD thing?"

You sit across from her, brows raised. "You know why, Mom."

"It’s just you never wanted one before your father passed," she says lightly. "You said your Masters was enough."

You don't know why but you feel defensive. 

"Well when he died I wanted to do something to honor him I guess. What better way to do that than by helping with the research?"

"Your father was a smart man, he was amazing at his job and so proud of you, you know that," your mother tells you before placing a dry hand over yours. "But his biggest joy in life was being a father."

"What are you getting at?"

"I'm saying I don't want you to dedicate your life to something because you feel like you should. This is your life, my love. You only get one."

"I know."

"There are plenty of ways to give back, to honor your father and still be around to watch your son grow up."

Your hackles immediately rise and she can tell the second they do. 

"I'm sorry," she says quickly when she sees the expression on your face. "Never mind. Let's talk about something else."

The rest of the visit flows smoothly, but you can’t ignore the way your mother looks at you whenever you mention Dieter.

"Taco Bell."

Dieter is woken out of a deep sleep by your lips at his ear. You're curled up together in his bed, your belly prodding his lower back. 

"A Burrito supreme and a large Baja blast… And Cinnamon Twists…And four fire sauce packets."

You're warm against his spine, voice a soft whisper huffed along his earlobe. He’s dazed, his eyes blurry as he attempts to understand what’s happening.

"Huh?"

"I need Taco Bell," you urge. "Please?"

A quick glance at his phone tells him that it's nearing 2:00 a.m.

"S'too late for the delivery apps, baby," he murmurs, patting your thigh companionably as if the conversation is now over. 

For the most part, Dieter can anticipate and appease your cravings. Usually through Petra or food delivery apps. But at almost two in the morning he has access to neither. 

You don't care. 

You've been tossing and turning for hours because all you can think about is the beans and tomato and beef... You're practically drooling already. You pat his bottom politely, trying to signal he needs to get out of bed.  

"The drive thru is open."

"It's late."

"But I need it," you whine. 

You have no interest in attempting to drive one of Dieter's fancy foreign cars he keeps in the large garage. And it's too late to call a town car so you're stuck. 

"No one ever needs Taco Bell. Bringing that shit in here is offensive," he mutters into his pillow. "S'full of filler and chemicals."

You give a soft exhale through your nose, about to flop onto your back in defeat when something occurs to you. Something else that you're craving as well.  

Dieter is drifting back to sleep when he feels the light graze of your hand sliding over his hip. He thinks he's imagining it, but as the sensation continues his cock begins to stir. He goes rigid as your hand slides under his boxers, fingertips teasing his warm length as he groans. 

"You do this for me and I'll do something for you when you get back," you purr, tongue coming to trace his lobe. "Daddy." 

Dieter jumps out of the bed and nearly trips in his pursuit to grab his car keys as he simultaneously tugs on his sweatpants. 

"You want cheesy potatoes too?"

When you wake up at seven months pregnant and see your reflection one morning you almost burst into tears.

You’re standing in front of the dresser mirror in your bikini, the only one left that fits. Your tits are practically bursting out of the cups, the bottoms tie at your hips dig into your flesh. You feel huge, you feel ugly and you feel not yourself.

There’s a knock at the bedroom door. Dieter peeks around, already dressed for the pool, a pink towel slung over his freckled shoulder.

“Swim time?”

Usually you swim by yourself, but Dieter has a rare free morning this week and he wants to take advantage. It had seemed like such a nice suggestion at breakfast, but now you balk, wishing you had anything else to wear but your fucking bikini.

Before it hadn’t mattered, but today you feel gross. You want to cover up as much as possible and you reach for your towel. But Dieter’s eyes are already drifting over your body, his cock stirring.

Dieter takes in the way your stomach protrudes out in the bikini, a beacon of fertility; his son nestled there safe within your body. He moves into the room, the towel dropping without thought onto the floor behind him.

"You're exquisite," Dieter breathes, his hand coming to rest on your belly. You feel his thumb gently rub, his eyes sparkling as he continues to stare at you.

"I look disgusting," you say cringing away from him. Dieter won't let go of your wrist as you try to flee. 

"Are you fucking insane?" 

“Dieter stop,” you say, wincing away from him and trying to pull your wrist out of his warm grip.

"You don't believe me," Dieter states flatly. 

"No I don't," you reply sharply. "It's what everyone tells pregnant women so they don't feel shitty about looking like a house."

Dieter blinks at you as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing before he’s shaking his head. His hands slide to your plush hips, turning you back to face the dresser. His eyes have blown pitch black, and his hands can’t stop from running along your body. 

"Look at her," Dieter groans into your ear. "Look at that sexy thing in the mirror."

"Dieter-"

"Keep looking," he urges you, hand gently forcing your face in the direction of the mirror before his hands slide up your bikini top over your breasts, pebbling the nipples. You swallow at the sensation, not even protesting when he unties it at the back, letting the colorful fabric drop to the ground.

You stand there in nothing but your bikini bottoms, cheeks flushed as Dieter groans deliciously behind you.  His hands come to cup your tits, thumbs grazing the protruding nipples.

“See her gorgeous fucking tits?”

You cringe away from the mirror, hating how you look. But if Dieter is lying about how turned on he is, he’s a better actor than you ever gave him credit for because his cock is swelling against your lower back, stiff and pulsing.

You let him untie your bikini bottoms, finding yourself already slick between your legs when they drop to the ground along with everything else. You watch in the mirror as Dieter sheds his swim shorts before gently urging you to place your forearms on the dresser.

You can only watch his face as he notches his cock at the entrance to your pussy, rubbing the head there and gathering the copious amounts of slick. His eyes flick from your face to your cunt as if he can’t decide which he needs to see more.

“Keep watching yourself, beautiful,” He rasps as he sinks into you, cock thick and full as you gasp. You’ll never tire of that sensation, the first thrust of his cock inside you. Your head falls forward but Dieter’s hand is there, gently making a fist in your hair and urging your face to the mirror.

"See how beautiful she looks when she's taking my cock?"

You can't see shit. Your belly is ballooned so far out you can barely handle it. But you look at your face and you see the heavy eyes and parted lips. You see the way you arch into Dieter’s body and how he towers over you and yeah... It's hot. 

"Cock drunk," Dieter tells you with a swell of pride. "All sexy and sleepy looking." 

His hands come to brace yours on the dresser, his dark eyes fixed on yours in the mirror.

"You see her?" Dieter pants, teeth gritting. "You see her tits bouncing? Feel her sweet pussy taking my cock? She's fucking magnificent. How can you say she’s not the sexiest thing alive?"

The way he talks about your reflection makes you almost jealous until you remember that it's you he's talking about. 

"You're so fucking gorgeous," Dieter babbles as he nears his orgasm. “Never been more turned on in my fucking life.”

And he means it. He means every fucking word. He can’t stop touching you, kissing your shoulder, your cheek, your mouth when you tilt back to face him. You whimper his name when he starts to fuck into you harder and harder.

“Come deep, Dieter,” you grunt. “Fuck me full.”

He does with one final thrust, painting your insides as he cries out your name.  

Despite this interlude you still suffer with crisis of confidence at times in the coming weeks. Your back is in constant pain. You waddle when you walk. You've never felt less attractive. 

Dieter is obsessed. He can't stop finding reasons to touch you, brushing your lower back when he passes you in the hall.

All pretenses of employer and employee are gone. You’re basically in his bed every night, fucking him whenever you get the chance. Neither of you observe it outright, but it’s there lingering under the surface every time he asks if you’re ready to go to bed. It’s there when you shower together, washing each other’s hair. It’s there when you both murmur good morning and let him kiss you languidly over coffee.

When he catches you napping in the sunshine on his couch he's so taken with you that you wake up to find his curly head between your legs and his mouth bringing you to a gentle orgasm. You keen against his lips, hands going to card through his hair as you come. 

You know why he's like this. It's because things are coming rapidly to an end. Once the baby is here this all ends. This ready access to sex, you lounging around his house. He'll have a newborn and you'll have a new life. You won't see him. You'll have your money, you'll be going back to school, and your mom's mortgage is paid off. 

Dieter knows how you feel about snuggling and he goes to pull away. 

"Don't," you say, arms outstretched, mouth twisted into a pout. Dieter stares at you in surprise, big puppy dog eyes wide. It makes you melt. He wraps himself around you, face nuzzling into your neck. The two of you snuggle there as you flick on the television to a Christmas special.

Just when you think Dieter is becoming a mature and sensible adult you feel him sigh heavily behind you.

“I'm not watching that depressing Christmas movie!" Dieter insists when It’s a Wonderful Life starts up. "I wanna watch the Muppet Christmas Carol!"

He can’t understand why you can’t stop laughing.

One quiet morning with Dieter filming audio reshoots for the Rogue Duchess you sit at the kitchen table, pensive. You stare at the pro and con list you've made sitting in front of you. 

Ever since the conversation with your mother you've been second guessing your next steps post birth. Are you just doing it because you think you should be? Are you doing it because that's what you were doing when your dad died? Are you doing it because of misplaced guilt?

Your dad had been so proud of you, telling everyone about your Masters problem and how you were well on your way to a PhD like him.  

He talked fondly about having two doctors and a nurse in the house, joking that your home would become like Grey's Anatomy. 

Even then you'd felt a bit of the pressure to perform. To pursue a PhD to make him proud. In all your focus and pursuit you'd never really stopped to ask yourself... Is this what you want? 

Pros - honor dad - get to be called doctor at the end Cons  - no social life - have to move to Sacramento for several years - not guaranteed a job I like when I graduate - away from mom  - STRESS - possible burnout - job market is competitive - won't necessarily make me happy

You need to add something else. Something that's been in the back of your head screaming for your attention. You raise your pen to the paper, adding your final item to the con list. 

- Too far away from Dieter and Bubble. 

And then a sentence you write and then immediately erase before crumpling the entire paper up in a ball.

- I'm in love with Dieter. 

[8:43am] D: It hasn't even started and I'm bored out of my fucking mind

[8:44am]: Dieter it'll be fun.

[8:44am] D: no it won't. I HATE these fucking marathon interview days 

Hours and hours of sitting with Mia and the rest of the crew talking about the upcoming film being released in a few months. He's covered in concealer and powder, his stylist has him in some absurdly patterned shirt that itches and he desperately needs a cigarette. 

[8:45am] D: I wanna be at home with you---

He hesitates before deleting that last message. He can't send you messages like that. You're not dating, no matter how much it feels like you are. He feels twitchy now, all out of sorts as he thinks about you home and waiting for him.

He sneaks off to the corner of the hotel, hoping he can get off a few puffs before Diane wrangles him back inside. 

He lights his cigarette, puffing away. He scans the space to make sure it's just hotel employees before he brings out his phone, going through his photos. He lands on the one from the other night, you mid laugh as the Jenga tower falls. You look so happy, so at ease. 

He’s so ridiculously in love with you.

How can he let you go? How can he go from seeing you every day to you becoming a stranger? You've got one foot out the door at all times and he doesn’t want to hold you back from your dreams. 

It was so easy to play house these past few months. To pretend like you were his. He was such a fool.

"Spare one?"

Dieter fumbles the phone, shoving it a hastily back into his jacket pocket. Its Mia dressed in a sleek black number, her makeup and hair perfect. She motions to the cigarette between his long fingers. 

"My last one," he says ruefully. 

Mia holds out her manicured fingers in his direction. "A quick puff then."

Dieter relents, handing it off to her. She takes a long drag, enjoying the curl of the smoke as the two of them stand shoulder to shoulder in silence. It feels awkward being together alone, the two of them haven't spoken since Prague. Dieter feels the need to fill the silence. 

"How's Sam?"

"He's good," Mia nods. "He's not secretly in love with his assistant so it's already much better than my last relationship."

Dieter can't help but let out a small chuckle at that.  Mia has been seen all over the tabloids in recent weeks with her hunky new Scottish co-star. Mia looks at Dieter with a small tilt of her head, squinting up at him.

"You tell her yet?"

"Tell who what?"

Mia takes another drag off the cigarette, giving him a leveling look.  "You know who and you know what."

Dieter says nothing, watching as Mia holds the cigarette aloft. She gives a dramatic sign when she sees. He's going to make her have to say it.

"Have you told your PA that you're fucking crazy about her," Mia says flatly. "That you want to marry her and have tons of little Bravo's running around."

"I do not."

"Maybe just the one little Bravo then," Mia smiles, handing him his cigarette. He feels her heavy gaze on him and he knows that she deserves answers. He put her through a lot and she has been gracious as hell about it.

He sighs heavily before twisting to face her head-on. "No, I haven't."

"Why not?"

"It’s…complicated." 

"What's complicated about love?"

"She told me she doesn't want to be a part of the baby's life."

"Back when she thought you only wanted to be together because you got her pregnant."

"She doesn't want me."

"Dieter I see how she looks at you. The girl is utterly besotted." 

"Might want to tell her that," Dieter huffs in forced amusement. 

Despite all the time you’ve spent together, you’ve really never made it clear how you feel about Dieter. Yes, you like the sex and you laugh with him. But you’ve never actually made overtures, talked about the future. You think of a future that doesn’t include him or your son.

Mia pauses for a moment, thinking about something. Her eyes scan the vicinity and before Dieter can do anything Mia grips him by the collar and plants a chaste kiss to his lips. Dieter pulls back immediately, his face cloudy.

"What the fuck-"

"You'll thank me," Mia promises.

He goes to say something to her about how uncool that was but a text from you sails in, almost as if fate is giving him the prompt he needs.

[8:58am]: If I wanted to postpone school for a little bit, do you think I could still stay with you? I could pay rent and everything. I think I just want to reconsider some things. Dunno if school is where I want to be right now.

“Fuck yes,” Dieter breathes, re-reading the message several times to make sure he’s not reading it wrong. You want to stay. You want to stay longer with him. He's still staring at your text with a goofy smile on his face when Mia’s voice sounds out beside him. 

“Dieter, c'mon! Interviews are starting.”

He shoves his phone into his pocket, his grin bright as he follows Mia back inside the hotel for the marathon of interviews.

You want to stay.

The alert comes through on your phone, the setting still stuck on sending you Dieter Bravo related news items. 

You're relaxing on one of the chairs in the backyard, one hand gently rubbing your belly, the other holding your latest crime thriller novel. 

When the alert goes off its instinct to shut the book and retrieve the phone from the table beside you. Normal to scan the links that show up. 

BRAV-ROWE ROMANCE BACK ON? 

You sit up slowly, holding your expansive belly and grunting angrily. You continue reading as you walk inside, pacing around the kitchen. 

Bravo, 40, and Rowe, 25, were spotted earlier today stealing kisses between interviews for their upcoming release The Rogue Heiress. What’s setting tongues wagging is that Rowe has also been recently seen getting cozy with Sam Heughen, 43, back in her native England only last week. Was Sam just a distraction from her real feelings for Bravo? Or is this just a cleverly executed publicity stunt for their upcoming film? 

You slam your phone down onto the counter, irritation flooding you all over. 

What the fuck?

Here you are pining over this guy and he's off kissing his ex? 

Even their couple name is adorable. It fits. Your cheeks are flaming red at the realization that you fell for it. You fell for his lines, for his sweet eyes and sweeter mouth. You let yourself get swept up in a romance that isn't even real.

Dieter is an actor. He knows how to fake anything.

"I'm so fucking stupid," you say shaking your head. Bubble gives a gentle kick, drawing your attention back to the present.

 “Sorry honey. Mom’s not stupid. Just fucking naive.”

It's dark when Dieter finally makes it home, shrugging of his jacket and toeing off his shoes. He wants to go to bed, to hold you after this long and boring day. 

But you're not in bed. You're seated on the couch with the TV off. Your crossword book is beside you but you don't look like you've been working on it. Dieter feels a smile break out over his features at the sight of you in his home. 

"Hi baby," he murmurs as he approaches, confused when you slowly turn to face him with a furious look on your face. "What’s wrong?"

“Have anything to tell me?”

“Uh…no?”

He watches you throw your head back and give an obviously false laugh. “No?”

“No.”

“Kiss any old girlfriends lately, Dieter?”

Dieter is stunned. How the hell did you find out about that? "How-"

"It's all over TMZ and now all the other news outlets," you say, teeth clenching. Dieter thinks about the way Mia checked around them before kissing him. You take a seat on the couch, arms crossed over your chest.

"I didn't just go kiss her," Dieter defends, coming to sit next to you. "She kissed me."

"Didn't really seem like you were fighting her on it."

You hold up your phone where the picture of Mia kissing Dieter is blown up. It's clear you've been studying the picture. Mia’s hand is on his collar, Dieter’s hand is on hers, but only so that he could pull it off. But to the outside viewer this looks very intimate.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“No? Because what it looks like is you kissing your ex girlfriend.”

Dieter takes in the red of your cheeks and the way you’re clenching your jaw and despite everything a little thrill goes through him. 

"Why are you so upset?" Dieter purrs.

"I'm not," you insist.

You feel furious and out of sorts and you can't tell him why because you'll sound like a jealous girlfriend which you absolutely aren't. 

"You sound upset."

"Well I'm not." You chew at your bottom lip angrily. "It's just rude you know? Sleeping with me and seeing Mia. Does she-"

"I'm not seeing Mia," Dieter interjects. 

"I have eyes Dieter," you scoff. 

"She gave me a quick peck after we talked about Sam Heughan, her boyfriend, who she is in a committed relationship with."

"Yeah right."

Dieter stops a moment to take in your flushed cheeks, bright eyes and the arms that cross in front of you. You don’t want him to be seeing Mia and that can only mean one thing and that makes Dieter feel warm all over. His arm is on the back of the couch, almost behind your shoulders.

"You're jealous."

"I'm not," you insist, face heating. 

"Then why are you acting like this?" He probes, shifting closer to you on the couch. "Tell me the truth."

He’s so close and he smells so good and you just fucking… you just…

"Because you're mine."

It comes spilling out of you like a dam, a rush, a torrent of words that once said cannot be taken back. But for once you don’t want them taken back. You want him to know exactly what you mean, especially as you launch yourself towards him, your arms going around his neck, your stomach plump between the two of you. Dieter is grinning so widely his face might crack as he gazes at you on his lap. 

"I'm yours?"

"Yes," you all but growl, pushing him backwards until his broad shoulders hit the seat cushions of the couch and you begin straddling his prone body. His cock is rock hard through his pants, pressing into your core through your panties. 

You tug them to the side, not even bothering to take them off. Dieter is already sliding off his pants and boxers, smiling up at you eagerly. He's pulsing between your thighs, hissing with pleasure as you notch him at your soaked entrance. 

"Not hers," you grunt, sliding down his length with an aching groan escaping both of you. "No one else's. Just mine. You understand me, Bravo?"

You're staking your claim and Dieter is turned on out of his mind. You've never been possessive over him before, never been so commanding. Never been so clear in your desire for him. 

"Yes!"

He wishes he could hold you in his arms, but being laid out flat on his couch while you ride him isn't exactly torture. Your pussy milks his cock, a vice -like grip around his thick length. 

"I'm yours," Dieter repeats, thrusting up into your wet heat. "Just yours, baby."

"You only fuck me," you command, starting to bounce up and down in his lap the best you can with your swollen belly. His expression is pure delight, his wide palm on your hips. 

"Yes."

"Only I make you c-come," you try to sound authoritative but your hips are rolling over his and he feels so good. You're barrelling towards an orgasm with every husky assurance from him. 

"Only you," Dieter assures you, hands tightening around your gyrating hips. "And I only wanna make you come, baby. Only want you in my bed. Only you."

He's rambling and your eyes are cheating to the back of your head. You crest so fast, hands flying to the back of the couch so you can steady yourself. His hands slide up under your shirt and go to your breasts, pinching your pebbled nipples as you keen. 

"C'mon baby," Dieter encourages as he watches your head tilt back. "Take what's yours."

"Mine," you pant as you start to come, head lolling forward. Your body starts to give small little twitches as you groan. "Mine, mine, mine."

"Yours," Dieter breathes, gazing up at you. "Only yours."

He feels you come, soaking his cock with your release. He groans at the sight of your fucked out expression, your hips still undulating. 

"Now you," you command in a soft mewl. "Come for me, Dieter. Give my what's mine."

Your hands go to brace yourself on his chest, your hips lifting only to slide harshly back down, taking him as deep as possible. He feels a pleasurable stripe go up his spine.  

"It's all yours," he offers before his own pleasure overtakes him at the sight of your heavy-lidded expression. He comes deep, deeper than he ever has and he does so whimpering your name. 

You're both panting and you groan slightly as you pull yourself off of him, sitting back against the couch. Dieter rests there a few moments, his softened cock resting against his belly. He's smiling up at the ceiling like a madman. 

Then he's stripping off all his clothes and standing before urging you to do the same. 

"I'm fucking you in the shower," Dieter tells you as he pulls your t-shirt up over your head. "I want you to give me another one."

But you don't just give just him another one because it doesn't end in the shower. Or on the kitchen counter after a midnight snack. But in his bed where he urges you to the end of the bed and fucks you slowly standing next to the mattress, your thighs spread beautifully for him as his cock lazily saws in and out of you.

His hands grip your thighs tightly, urging you to bounce against his hips. Your bodies move together, the pleasure increasing.

“So good,” you croon, your forehead dotted with sweat. “You feel so perfect, Dieter.”

You’re babbling, high on the pleasure of his cock and his nearness. Dieter revels in it, the way you’re unabashedly giving him praise, the way you don’t stop him or shy away from him whispering sweet nothings into your neck.

“And I’m all yours,” he promises. You almost think you can read love in his eyes as they gaze down at you.

 “I’m all yours,” you tell him back without thought.

His thrusts increase, his hands holding you tightly, fingers splayed over your clit. He teases and rubs until you’re on the brink of another orgasm and you finally come in tandem, both of you trembling.

“That’s my girl,” he groans, kissing behind your ear as you shiver.

You don’t tell him you’re not his girl because right now you feel like you could be.

You wake up the next morning in Dieter’s bed with one of his legs wedged in between yours, his arm draped over your middle and his forehead against your neck. It feels right and it feels perfect and as your sleep clears…A mixture of shame and disbelief overtakes your body.

What the fuck was that last night? 

You'd been almost mad with rage at the sight of that TMZ pic. And when he'd come onto the couch you'd just felt this strange possessiveness overtake you. 

Just want you in my bed. Only you. 

Those words were so nice to hear. So gratifying. And you believed him about Mia and the photo. It had been all too easy to move past it, to allow him to lick into your mouth as he fucked you. You glance over your shoulder to see him sleeping, his hair falling into his closed eyes. 

Mine. 

No. Not mine. 

He's not yours. He can't be.

He's Dieter Bravo and you're you. Thinking that somehow you could be together is a delusion.  Dieter just hates being alone. And he knows that being a father is a huge deal. He knows that it's all going to rest on his shoulders and he's looking for a lifeline as your due date grows rapidly closer.  

He doesn't actually have feelings for you.

It's just that Mia might be out of the picture and he's clinging to whatever is in the vicinity - today it happens to be you. Tomorrow it'll be whatever model he's paired with at the next photo shoot. 

You've known him long enough to know his moods and his ever changing interests. In a couple of months when the baby is here and you're in Sacramento he'll probably have forgotten your name. 

The thought hurts if you linger on it. He's just clinging to a lifeline and you can't be around when he does inevitably move onto the next woman because it'll break your heart. 

You need to get the apartment now. You need to find out where you're going to be staying next semester. You need to be planning your life post birth. 

He didn’t even write back to your text yesterday even though it said he’d read it. The one asking if you could stay longer, that you were considering postponing school. And you know why – because this wasn’t the plan. Because Dieter’s interest is waning and you know it.

You pull yourself from the bed, out of Dieter’s warm arms and you try your best not to look back at his still sleeping form as you tiptoe out of the room.  

You return sometime in the afternoon to Dieter storming around the kitchen, looking frantic. He barrels towards you, tugging your hands that you quickly slide out of his grip.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?"

“I had it on silent.”

"Where were you?"

"I was at the library," you say as if it were the most obvious answer. Dieter looks like he’s been fisting his hands through his hair all day.

"You're not supposed-"

"I know I’m not supposed to leave, but I wore sunglasses and no one recognized me." You put your purse down on the ground. "I just needed somewhere quiet to organize my thoughts. I needed to research apartments without distractions."

"Apartments," Dieter repeats slowly. 

"Yeah, for next semester," You say breezily as you push past him and make your way into the kitchen. He follows hot on your heels like a desperate puppy all big eyes and furrowed brows.

"Next semester? I thought you were thinking of postponing?"

He watches you glance around in the fridge before pulling out a bowl of blueberries that Petra has left for you. 

"No point," you say, popping one in your mouth. "I decided I need to get focused and start as soon as possible. That reminds me though; I don't think I can really stay long after the baby is born. I'll want to get to Sacramento as soon as possible."

Dieter looks as if you've punched him. He's gone pale, his large eyes luminous. He's sagging against the counter as if his own body can't support him anymore. 

"What? Why?"

"I told you, I need to focus," you tell him, popping the blueberries back into the fridge. "And I know that I don't get paid until the Bubble is born but I'm wondering if I can get half now? I need to put a down payment on an apartment out there."

"You're buying an apartment in Sacramento?"

"Of course," you say, taking a deep breath. "I'll be in school for a few years; the rest of my Masters then the PhD, then my residency out there. Makes sense." 

"But ... You weren’t even sure about it," Dieter says weakly. 

"That was before I really thought about it," You say, shrugging. "I can't sit around my boss's house all day organizing his next manicure and making sure his latest fuck buddies sign NDA's."

Dieter straightens immediately, his jaw clenching.

Too far.

As soon as you say it you wish you could take it back. It's an ugly, unfair thing to say and you both know it.  But you feel exposed, like a raw nerve.

Dieter feels everything inside him twisting hideously. He was so fucking deluded to think you'd stay, to think you'd fallen for him the same way he has for you. He wants to scream at his idiocy. 

How are you just so okay with this? How can you walk away like the last several months have meant nothing?

Dieter can only stare at you, his eyes going from wide to narrowed. His hand curls into a loose fist at his side, the other still braced on the counter. 

“There's a contract," Dieter all but growls. "You get your money once the baby is born."

"I know,” you say quickly. “It's just that the tuition is due this month to hold my spot for next semester."

"That's not my problem."

You take a step back, brows knitted. You weren’t expecting that. 

“But-“

"You signed a contract stipulating that you wouldn't get the money until the baby is born," Dieter croaks. "So there's your answer."

He turns from you, heading down the hallway to his art studio. You follow close behind, waddling quickly to keep up. 

"Dieter I can't afford the place without that money."

"Read the contract," he snaps. "You signed it."

He quickly moves into the studio, slamming the door behind him.

He hears you on the other side of the door, breathing heavily. He’s worried you’re crying.

Finally he hears you shuffle away and he moves to the window, sitting in the chair he reserved for you when you return home with your son. He imagined painting both of you, the light bathing you both in a dreamy glow.

Dieter is devastated, his head resting heavily in his hands as he fights back the urge to sob.  

What the fuck happened? One minute you were insisting he was yours, your bodies working together beautifully. The next second you're telling him you're halfway out the door. 

You don’t want to be a mother. You never did. You always made that perfectly clear. He was just too besotted to understand.  He looks around his art room, feeling a fury building within him. What the fuck has this all been for? Why the fuck is he so fucking stupid? Why did he have to go and fall in love with you? 

He needs drugs. He needs alcohol. He needs something to take this stabbing pain away. And just as his trembling hand goes to his phone to call up Corey Brigham he glances up at the painting he's been currently working on. 

It's an oil painting image from a dream he had recently. One where he stands in the ocean up to his knees, the wind gentle and the day mild. Dieter is holding you back against him, his head over your shoulder, both of you gazing down at the tiny infant in your arms. 

And there's his son, eyes closed, a soft smile on his face. The image of what Dieter things he’ll look like.

My son. 

The cell phone is pushed back into his pocket. He's not living just for himself anymore. He's got a son he will put before himself in all ways. His son will not grow up with an absent father like Dieter did. 

All of a sudden his studio door bursts open. You look harried as you stride in, fixing him with a glare. He knows you want to tell him off and he wishes you didn't look so beautiful when you’re angry. 

"You're not supposed to be in here," Dieter insists, feeling a stab of anxiety go through him as you walk towards him. He leaps up from the chair, almost tripping over himself in his desire to usher you out of the room.

“We were in the middle of a conversation,” you snap. “You can’t just-“

Your cutting remarks die before they can be completely formed because as you glance around the room your eyes widen in shock. 

Dieter’s art room has always been a mix of canvas, paint spills, old coffee cups and grotesque sculptures. But right now all of the painted canvases are positioned around the room, sketches lining the drafting table under the window.

And they are all of you.

Ones of you with your belly swollen, sleeping on the couch. Others of you cross legged at the table hunched over your laptop. There's one of you with your face serene as you lay the bathtub, that night Dieter and you talked for hours. Snapshots of time, your belly at different stages. 

"Are these..." You go over to a stack of sketches. “Are these all me?”

Dieter is silent, his eyes drifting to your face when you take in the portrait he did of the three of you. Your hand goes to your belly instinctively as you take in the image.

“I always imagined he’d look like that,” you say with a soft little huff.

Your eyes go to the drafting table, sketches in charcoal sticking out to you. Some are dated as far back as Ireland, some even before that. Your fingers linger on one in particular of you chewing your bottom lip in thought, a pencil raised between your fingers. You glance at the date. 

“This was before I was pregnant.” You trail off, gaze moving back to his face. "How long have you been sketching me?"

Dieter shrugs and for the first time since you've known him he looks truly embarrassed. 

"A while." 

You move slowly towards him. "Why?"

He sighs, only steps away from you now.

"Isn't it obvious?" 

You swallow, feeling your heart pound a devastating rhythm. No, this can’t be real. He can’t be suggesting what you think he is.  And yet as he stands there, dark eyes wet you can’t help but wish for it to be real.

“I'm crazy about you,” Dieter confesses.

No, not confesses. That would suggest he wanted to keep it hidden, when it’s anything but.

“I just want to be with you all the time. I want to share everything with you. My life, my home, my everything. I want you here in this house with our son. I want to support you going back to school. I want to make you happy in any way I can but I want you to do it as mine.”

You want to say something, to say anything to this grand romantic speech, but your throat has tightened and your mouth gone dry. All you can do is stand there, staring at him like a pregnant idiot.

“And I know that’s selfish to say and I know it’s useless because you don’t love me back but I-I just needed you to know before you left,” Dieter continues, tears wetting the side of his cheek.

“You don’t need to love me back. Our son is a piece of you and if that’s all I can have of your love, that’s enough for me. He’s more than enough. I just. . . I needed you to know the truth, all of it. I fell for you way before you got pregnant, but after this time together I just, I’m...I love you.”

And now his tears are brushed away by the back of his hand and he looks as if he’s going to turn away from you, overcome with everything that he’s just admitted.

You can barely see through the tears in your eyes. All the feelings that have been swirling within you compel you to pitch forward, your hands outstretched, his name on your lips.

You’re about to cross the room, desperate for his touch when a stab of pain goes through you sharply, causing you to almost come to your knees.  You begin doubling over with a cry as Dieter runs to close the distance between you, his hand immediately on your back.

“What is it, baby?”

Dieter is confused when he sees an overwhelming amount of clear liquid running down your legs. Your eyes are round, wide and terrified when you look up to him.

"Dieter, I think I'm going into labor." 

taglist: @caramilena @lovely-vamp-princess @annieispunk @lu62 @getitoutofmymindwrites @noisynightmarepoetry @lizzie-cakes @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @missladym1981 @tammythr @swankyorange @jupiter-soups @dontknow446 @fluffygoffpanda @doblasftcisco @sunnysinbar @dinomecanico @eff4freddie @fancypants1215 @moel-jiller @picketniffler @khxna @spookyxsam @fancypants1215

@getitoutofmymindwrites @manuymesut @whirlwindrider29 @mostardentlypascal @lu62 @missladym1981 @heareball @sptbear @drewharrisonwriter @lizzie-cakes @daddy-dins-girl @moel-jiller @tammythr @guelyury @lilyevanstan1325 @lu62 @staywildflowahchild @whirlwindrider29 @pedropascalsbbg @cherrycosmos392

#dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #dieter x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fanfic #pedro pascal characters

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 5)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Relapse

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.5K

Summary: After a fight with his dad, Rafe makes another mistake that could cost him everything.

Masterlist

Stella spots her dad easily in the crowd of parents and runs toward him. He picks her up, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “How was daycare, little witch?” Rafe asks. She moves in his arms to look at him, “Good. It was my turn to feed the fishy today.” For the past few weeks, Rafe has been picking up Stella at daycare and dropping her off at the diner. It was tiring at first to drive back and forward from the Outer Banks to the mainland every day, so he rented an apartment close to Y/N’s house to make the journey shorter. Ward wasn’t too pleased when Rafe started working remotely, but Sarah talked to Ward about it. “That’s sounds fun. Are you still mad at Sabrina?” he asks while buckling the little girl. She finds his eyes through the rearview mirror, “Yes, she stole my boyfriend.” “That’s okay, you’re too young to be dating anyway. Boys are yucky,” he laughs at the pouty face she gives him.

——

Y/N is refilling the sugar container when Rafe walks through the door. Her surprise is written on her face because Stella is at her grandparents’, so he doesn’t need to drop her off this evening. She sets the sugar down, “Hey, is everything okay?” “Yeah, just didn’t really know what to do with my time since I’m not dropping Stella off. I thought I’d keep you company,” he states, sitting down at the counter. She laughs, “I remember the first time my parents took her for the weekend. I had a lot of time on my hands and I didn’t know what to do, so I rearranged my spice cabinet three times.”

“That sounds fun. How did you arrange them?”

“By country of origin, and then by taste, and then by alphabetical order, which is how I already had it. So I’m glad to be your spice cabinet for this evening.” 

Harvey comes out from the kitchen and sees Rafe at the counter, “Hello, Rafe. I’ll be with you in just a moment.” “It’s okay, Harv. I’m going to the kitchen to get something to drink. I’ll put in his order in. You can head on your break once you serve your table,” she informs, putting the sugar back under the countertop. Patty receives his order and Y/N heads back out to stay with Rafe. “How has your day been?” she asks, sitting on the stool across from him still behind the counter. He looks up from his phone, “It was a little disappointing. Work was the same as ever and I didn’t get to see my little witch. Seeing you is the best part of my day. How about you?” Her heart flutters and she uses a cough as an excuse to hide the sparkly in her eye. “I like seeing you too,” she says, focusing on the countertop. He gives a little chuckle, “I was asking more about your day, but it’s good to know you appreciate my company.” 

He knows she turned him down for a date and it hurt at the time, but Rafe hasn’t given up hope. She said that she liked him and timing was the only issue. He just has to show her he can stay sober and be in a relationship with her. Her eyes shy away, “Now, I feel stupid. My day was not bad. Business is better than usual, which means more money for me.” “Don’t feel stupid, Buttercup. It’s a simple mistake. I’m glad that business is going well,” he comforts. 

The two engage in smile talk until Patty comes out to give Rafe his food. “Patty,  I could’ve brought out his food,” Y/N protests, moving out of the way so Patty can slide the plate directly in front of him. Patty gives him a warm smile, “I know, but I just love seeing this handsome face.” “Aww, Patty. I love seeing you too. If only I was a few years older,” he plays along. She shakes her head, “If only. I would never dream of taking you for Y/N/N though.” “Patty, he isn’t mine. He is free to do whatever he wants,” Y/N interjects, disappointing Rafe. He turns his attention to Y/N, “There isn’t anyone else that I want other than Stella.” She looks at him with shock, understanding the hidden meaning behind the look in his eyes. “Stella is one lucky daughter,” she states while breaking their eye contact. Harvey calls Y/N over to ask her a question and this ends their conversation. “You love her,” Patty remarks. Rafe nods his head, “I do, but she doesn’t love me.” “Just you wait. She’ll come around. You’re already on the right track. Stella is definitely the way to her heart,” Patty returns to the kitchen. 

——

With Stella away, Y/N decides to give Patty and Harvey the rest of the night off and she would close up shop for the day. What she didn’t anticipate was Rafe staying with her until she closed. He spent eight hours with her at the counter. About three hours in, he commandeered her laptop to keep himself busy as she took care of the customers. He would tell her random facts to catch her attention and tell her a joke to hear her melodic laugh. He would steal glances at her every so often. Unbeknownst to him, she would steal some right back. She told him multiple times that he didn’t need to stay, but he insisted he needed her company to fill the hole of Stella being gone. The last customer leaves the diner and Y/N locks up behind him.

She turns toward Rafe, who still hasn’t left, “Do you want something to eat? You have been here for eight hours.” “I could go for some fries, but only if you eat something too. You haven’t eaten since I got here,” he points out. Right on time, her stomach growls in a long low tone. She didn’t realize she skipped dinner and felt butterflies at the fact that Rafe was keeping an eye on her. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” 

Around fifteen minutes later, she returns with a place full of fries and a burger. She rounds the counter to sit beside Rafe and puts the plate between the two of them. “Do you want to watch a movie?” she questions, pulling her laptop to her to open Disney +.  His hand finds a fry, “Sure.” He lets her pick Ratatouille since it feels like fitting with them being in a restaurant and all. Y/N inspects the fries on the plate and before she can take the fry she decides on, Rafe mindlessly grabs the one she wants. The fry is near his mouth, but she grabs it out of his hand and shoves it in her mouth. “Hey! I was going to eat that, Buttercup,” he complains. She shrugs her shoulders, “I like the crunchy ones, Button. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t let you have this crunchy goodness.” 

“That’s awfully selfish of you. How are you going to make it up to me?”

The pair had unknowingly gotten closer to each other. Their faces are only about three inches away from each other. His breath finds her lips and it takes everything in him not to bring them to his. She stares into his eyes, trying to figure out what he wants her to say. “Well… I don’t have much, but how about I let Stella sleep over at your place next weekend? Does that make you feel better?” she genuinely offers. Upon seeing she is serious, his face turns to joy, “I would love to have her sleepover. I have to get the spare bedroom ready. Maybe get her a few toys and some-.” “Woah, slow down there, Button. She is only there for a night. You don’t need to do too much for her,” Y/N stops his tangent. 

“I know. I just want her to enjoy her weekend with me so she’ll want to come back. So I can prove that I am a good father.” 

“Rafe, no matter what you do, she will want to be with you. You are her father and that’s all she needs.” 

Her right hand finds the side of his face and she plays with the bottom of his earlobe. He leans into her touch, letting himself be comforted after he is a little vulnerable with her. Her eyes flicker down to his watch and she notices the time. “Damn, it’s late. I should probably start walking back home,” she worries, scrambling off the stool and cleaning up their late-night snack. He looks at his watch, “You are walking home? What happened to your car?” “Joshua asked to borrow it and since Stella is not with me, I said it was fine,” she notes as a matter of fact. He helps her clean up and takes out his car key, “I see. I’ll drive you home then.” “Rafe, you don’t have to. You know it isn’t that far for me to walk,” she tries to refuse. He shakes his head, “Y/N, I’m not letting the mother of my child walk alone close to midnight. So, don’t worry about it and let me drive you.” She stops arguing and gets to work quickly cleaning up.

Once she closes the diner, they walk side by side to his car. He notices the goosebumps running up her arm and shrugs off his grey North Face jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders. She whispers a thank you. They get into the car and make their way to her house. He walks her to the door with his fingertips itching to touch hers. At the door, they turn to each other, looking into each other’s eyes. He takes a tentative step forward and she doesn’t move back. He is about to take a chance and lean in for a kiss when the door flings open to reveal Benedict.   

“Finally, you’re back. You sure took your sweet time with closing. Hey, Rafe. Y/N, do you have any mayo? I feel like eating just straight-up mayo,” Benny interrupts, walking away from the door to the kitchen. She pulls away from Rafe and follows her brother inside, devastating Rafe. He slowly enters the house after a few seconds to see the siblings bickering about Benny eating only mayo. The domestic sight makes him feel left out, so he bids goodbye to the pair. He is almost to the door when Y/N catches up to him. “Button, wait,” she calls out, gently grabbing his arm above his elbow. “I wanted to say thank you for keeping me company tonight. And for taking me home. I know you didn’t have to stay and that part of the reason you did is because of me. So thank you.” He looks back at her with a soft smile, “No problem. I have to protect the woman I lo- I have to protect the woman who gave birth to my baby girl.” She caught what he was about to say, nails finding their way between her teeth. “Right, well… goodnight,” she mutters, stepping back into her house. He moves back towards the sidewalk, “Goodnight.” Y/N waits for Rafe to be out of sight before closing the door.

——

Rafe opens the door to his apartment to find Ward Cameron waiting with an annoyed look on his face. “What do you want?” Rafe grumbles, leaving the door open and walking away from it. Ward enters the room, “You can’t keep living here. You need to come back to the Outer Banks.” “No, I don’t. I’ve been keeping up with my work and going back when we had a meeting. So I don’t see a problem,” Rafe argues, going to the kitchen to pour himself some water. 

“When are you going to realize that you are just playing pretend? That you are eventually going to get tired of playing family. It’s better you realized that sooner rather than later.”

“You have no idea what you are talking about. I’m not going to leave my family. You always say that family comes first and that’s what I’m doing.”

“Listen, Rafe. I know you and the only thing that you can stay committed to is coke and the family business. So stop kidding yourself.”

Rafe shakes his head in frustration, “Well, I’ve changed. I want to give my daughter the support you never gave to me but you gave to Sarah.” “When you realize this is all a mistake, don’t come crying to me to fix this problem. I already told you to sign a paper saying you’d only give child support,” Ward warns, heading back out the door. Rafe yells in frustration, throwing a water bottle at the wall. He doesn’t understand the point of his father coming over just to tell him he is going to end up abandoning his family. It drives Rafe crazy that Ward thinks he knows everything about his son when Ward barely takes the time to talk to him. His feelings for his dad come cropping up and he needs something to relieve the stress. 

A knock on the door causes him to stop his tantrum. Shit, he forgot he is supposed to have Stella over for tonight. A second knock comes when he is splashing water on his face to calm down. At the third knock, he opens the door to see an excited Stella and a nervous Y/N. His daughter walks into the apartment as if she lives there while Y/N notices Rafe’s emotion. “Are you okay? She can sleep over next weekend if this is a bad time,” Y/N says. He doesn’t want to talk about it, “I’m fine. She can stay. I could use her company.” She isn’t sure if what he says is the entire truth, but she trusts him to know what he needs and if he needs his daughter, she won’t stop him. “Okay, well call me if you need anything. I’ll be at home all night,” she informs, heading inside to give Stella a kiss before she leaves. Rafe sighs once the door is locked, turning toward his daughter with a fake smile. “What do you want to do, little witch?” She gives him a massive grin and pulls something out from her bag, “Can I practice my face painting on you, Daddy? I can make you into a monster.” “Doesn’t that sound like a great idea? I would love to be your model.”

——

The evening he gets to spend with his daughter is the best he’s ever gotten to spend. They went on a Target run and got a variety of stuff. Toys. Clothes. Food. Board Games. Accessories. Anything she wanted found its way into their cart. He didn’t care about the looks he got for wearing skeleton makeup that Stella put on his face. It may be June, but it is never too early to celebrate the spooky season. They got back home after the shopping spree to make all the food and play all the board games they bought. He had just put her to bed when the bad thoughts started to creep back in. The doubts he is feeling about being a father start to seep through. So far, everything has been great. They always have so much fun. But what happens when the real struggles of parenting start to begin? When Stella won’t simply go to bed because he told her so. When she starts to resist his authority because the newest of having a dad is over. 

His hands are going crazy with fidgeting with his watch. The leg bouncing up and down is the only thing emitting a sound throughout the living room. He goes to call Diana and is sent to voicemail. He wants to call Y/N but thinks twice about it because he doesn’t want to worry her. He knows he shouldn’t but he needs to stop the voices in his head. The DVD case in the TV centre is calling to him. His feet lead him closer to what he shouldn’t be close to. He gets out the case and opens it up to find the little bag of powder. Before this day, he forgot he had stashed it there and that is why he hasn’t got rid of it yet. It’s okay if he has a little bit though, just a little. Maybe if he knows he should control himself, then it will be better than using more. He just needs a little something to stop his brain. 

He forms one line. One line should be enough. The relief he feels, once he snorts the line, begs him to do another. One more couldn’t hurt. He doesn’t realize he has gone through the whole bag until he can’t make any more lines. The energy he feels gets him up and moving. He cleans up the mess they made while cooking and organizes the board games they played. After a while he starts to crash, so he lies down on the couch to try and get some sleep but the coke isn’t letting him. He stares at the ceiling for hours until eventually, the mindlessness of sleep overcomes him, forgetting to clean up the evidence of what he did. 

——

Y/N taps the door as lightly as possible to hopefully not wake up Stella. She wants to help Rafe get breakfast ready for the little girl. The knock goes unanswered, so the next one that comes is a little harder. Rafe opens the door with a confused look that turns to panic when he sees who it is. “Hey, Button. Sorry to wake you up so early. But I thought I could help you make Stells some breakfast. I hope you have some eggs because I was thinking about making some eggs benedict,” she explains, heading toward the kitchen to place down the tote with the food she brought. Rafe scrambles to block her view of his coffee table, “Uh, yeah. The eggs are in the fridge.” He was too late. Her eyes are already narrowed at something in the living room and he knows she saw his last night late activities. 

She heads toward the table to make sure she is actually seeing what she thinks she is seeing. “You relapsed,” she mutters to herself in a calm and worrying tone. Rafe runs to her side, gently turning her to look at him, “Buttercup, I know I did. But I promised it wasn’t that much. I just needed something to stop my thoughts.” Her head starts to shake violently as she yanks her hand out of his hold and walks back slowly toward Stella’s room. The anger she feels is now showing, “If it wasn’t that much, then how come the bag is empty, Rafe? How much was in that bag? HOW MUCH COCAINE DID YOU DO WHILE MY DAUGHTER WAS UNDER YOUR CARE?” The blow comes in twofold. The first, she didn’t call him the playful nickname she always does. The second, she called Stella her daughter instead of theirs. 

“I know I screwed up, Buttercup. But I promise, she wasn’t awake.” 

“You don’t get to call me that right now. I don’t care if she is awake or not. I’m upset at the fact that you did drugs while she was in the house. That she could’ve woken up while you were sleeping and had access to the mess you left. Or worse, you died on the couch because you overdosed. ” 

“Of course, you are allowed to be upset. But it was a mistake. I’m sorry. It will never happen again. Y/N, please.”

“I can’t Rafe. I know that relapsing is sometimes a part of the journey to sobriety and I can forgive that. I can’t forgive putting Stella at risk.”

Y/N walks away in the direction of Stella’s room. All he can do is wait there as he hears the door open. “Stella. Baby, wake up. It’s time to go,” Y/N murmurs, kneeling beside the bed and running her fingers through Stella’s hair. The girl gently stirs, “Why, Mommy? I haven’t had breakfast yet.” “Because, Baby, Daddy needs to go somewhere so we have to go. We can make breakfast at home,” the mother explains, helping her daughter put of the bed. She knows Stella wants to debate more, but isn’t allowed to because Y/N is packing Stella’s stuff as fast as she can. 

Rafe is still standing there when Y/N comes back out with Stella in one arm and the little girl’s bag over the other shoulder. This makes him rush toward her, “Y/N, please. Don’t go. Please.” She ignores him and walks out the door, leaving the food she brought. He can hear Stella demanding to say bye to her Daddy and it rips his heart out as he hears Y/N firmly say no. He slams the door shut, screaming into the oblivion of his pain. 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer @kisstaya @optimisticsandwichgladiator

#a new kind of normal #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron series #outer banks #rafe #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x you #outer banks rafe #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #outerbanks #obx #obx fic #obx fanfic #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx x reader

[angelfacedelrey]

Unloved ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

summary: luke confesses some his stuggles to you, then you confess some of yours to him.

words: 1.7 k

!! MAJOR ed tw !!

a/n: this is just me venting about my ed lol. this is my first fic so please be nice <3

There was something off about Luke. You could tell the moment you saw him. Even though you’ve only been dating for 4 months now, you know when something is wrong. During the party that the Dionysus kids insisted they threw (for pretty much no reason), he wasn’t his usual smiley and outgoing self. He seemed reserved and quiet. You were outside the dining pavilion talking to some other kids from camp. In the glow of the torches, everyone was laughing and having a good time except for him. You weren't either, but you tried to look like you were. Your arm was wrapped around his as you leaned against him and listened to the conversation, though you couldn’t focus on what they were saying. You kept glancing up at Luke every minute or so to see if he looked any happier (he never did). 

After the conversation fades out, you pull him away to a quiet area and whisper to him, “Luke, are you okay… you seem… off.”

He sighs and looks away for a second before answering, “Let’s talk by the lake.” 

Anxiety grows in your stomach. What could this mean? You just nod as he grabs your hand and takes you to the lake. The water is pitch black in the night and there is a chill in the summer air. He lets go of your hand and looks down to see your face. 

“I’m sorry… there’s just a lot going on right now,” His hand scratches the back of neck as he says this. 

“You don’t have to be sorry, Luke. I’m listening,” you say, as you look him in the eyes and gently grab his hand. “I know it must be hard since Percy and Annabeth went on that quest, I know she was like a little sister to you.”

Nervously, he clears his throat. “Yeah, but, um, it’s not just that…”

“Oh…what is it?”

He sighs and lowers his head, “Look, just promise me that you won’t view me any differently after I tell you this.”

“No, no,” you say hastily, while shaking your head. “There’s nothing you could ever say to me that will make me view you differently, Luke. I’ll love you no matter what, I promise.”

Luke looks you in the eyes again. “Nothing?”

“Nothing,” a reassuring smile grows on your face.

He can’t help but smile with you. He’ll remember that. “Look, it’s just about my dad… Do you ever feel… betrayed by our godly parents?”

Taken aback by the question, you stop to think before answering. “Betrayed how?”

“Like, they just ignore us, like we’re nothing to them. Like we’re not even their children.”

“I-I guess so. I mean I feel like that sometimes.”

“That shouldn’t be how it is, though,” He sighs and keeps talking. “I don’t think Hermes even knows most of his kids. Most of my half siblings have barely met him, if at all. It’s just so… infuriating. He goes around, siring kids, and then sits up in Olympus and just leaves them. I’ve spent my entire fucking life wondering where my father is. Waiting for him to maybe one day come and talk to me or just acknowledge my existence. But, no. I’ve only met him once, because he can’t be bothered to get to know his own fucking kid!” 

For a moment, he runs his hand through his curls and exhales before he continues. “And what I’m about to say might sound… bad…but seeing Percy get claimed just like that after finding out he’s a half blood for, like, what a week? It just intensified everything I felt before… Like some kid just shows up and now he’s loved by everyone and claimed by his father. And yet, I fight everyday and what do I get? Nothing! I’m the best sword fighter in camp, I pray, I give offerings, I’ve done everything right. But it’s still not enough for him… I’m just so fucking tired of these Gods just doing whatever they want and not caring who they hurt…”

After saying all that he turns back to look at you. You're standing there in stunned silence, unsure of what to say. 

“Luke, I… I’m so sorry,” you walk over and give him a hug. He hugs you back and rests his chin on your head. A few silent moments pass as you stay like that. The sound of campers excitedly chatting and partying could be heard distantly behind them. 

“Do you see me differently now?” He asks, quietly.

You pull away, but keep your hands on his arms, gripping him gently. “No, Luke, I really don’t. I told you nothing you say will ever make me view you differently.”

“I know it’s just that… most people would think that I’m… weak for feeling this…”

“Weak?” You look shocked. “How could anyone ever think you’re weak? You’re one of the strongest people I know!” You kiss him softly on the cheek and smile reassuringly causing a slight blush to appear on his cheeks. 

“I understand what you’re saying, trust me. I, of all people, understand what it’s like to do your best to get your parent’s love and praise… and yet, it’s never enough,” You say, trying to give him a sympathetic look.

“You understand?” Luke asks, his face softening a bit. 

“I understand all too well…” You say with a humorless laugh. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love my mom, but…”

“But?” 

“Well, y’know with Aphrodite being the goddess of beauty and all…there’s, um, a lot of pressure for us to look a certain way…”

Sighing slightly, Luke brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Is this about… dieting?” He says it carefully, unsure of how to word it correctly. 

“Yeah,” you look away, ashamed to be telling someone this. “I’ve been counting calories since I learned to count. I obsess over every little thing I consume. I eat as little as I can, yet it always feels like too much. I go on runs or swims everyday… and it’s still never enough. I’m never thin enough… I love my mom, but… I can’t help, but feel like she made me start doing this.”

Now it’s Luke’s turn to stand there in stunned silence. “I had no idea… that you’re going through all this. I-I’m sorry, I should’ve noticed.” He thinks back to everyday in the dining pavilion when he’d look over to you at the Aphrodite table and see you playing with your food instead of eating. Or all the times when you’d say you weren’t hungry and would change the subject to anything besides food. Or all the daily runs he’d see you go on. Or, most concerning of all, the quick weight loss. How all your clothes that used to fit, now hang over your body like a shower curtain. Your once cherub-like face became pale and almost gaunt with dark circles under your eyes and a tired expression always. How has no one noticed? How has he never noticed?

You just shake your head and give him a gentle smile. “Luke, it’s okay. I tried my hardest to keep it hidden. Also, my mental state isn’t your responsibility…”

“But I’m your boyfriend,” grabbing your hands gently, he looks at you with a sympathetic expression. “It’s my job to care for you, especially when you’re… sick. Does anyone else know?”

“No,” you shake your head once more. “You’re the first person I told… It’s not a big deal, I’m not even that sick.”

“What?” He says, his eyebrows furrowing together as a shocked expression etches onto his face. “Not that sick? Y/N, you’re starving yourself! That sounds pretty sick to me.”

You just shrug in response.

“How long have you been doing this?”

“Since like,10 or 11. I told you, I’ve been counting calories since I learned to count.”

He stands there quietly for a bit, as his heart sinks. “That young?”

“Yeah,” you respond. 

“If you don’t mind me asking… How many calories do you eat in a day?”

“I-I don’t know,” you lie, you know exactly how many calories you consume, down to the stick of gum you’d chew for a snack. “Like about 400-800…” You try (and fail) to fight back a smile that grows on your face. Despite how unhealthy it is, you can’t help, but feel proud of it. 

Luke, on the other hand, just feels shocked and concerned. “That-that’s nothing… and for so long. Y/N, you need help. You’re killing yourself.”

“I know, believe me, I know… But I can’t stop.” 

He reaches up and cups your face, rubbing circles with his thumbs before kissing your forehead. “I wish you could realize you’re perfect the way you are. I wish you could see yourself the way everyone else does,” he says it softly. “I’d love you, no matter how you look.”

“Really?” You ask, while a blush appears on your cheeks.

“Really,” He says, tenderly grabbing your waist and pulling you close to him. You rest your head against his chest and once again, you stay like that for a while.

Slowly, you pull away and smile softly at him. “I’m getting tired, can you stay with me tonight?... Not to do anything, but just like to… be with me…” You hastily added the last part, but hesitated. Most guys don’t react kindly to you saying you don’t want to do anything.

“Of course,” Luke responds. “But can you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Can you try to… eat better tomorrow? Please, just try…”

You hesitate before answering, “I will. I’ll try.”

He smiles brightly, “That’s my girl.” He gently grabs your hand and walks you to Cabin 10.

You spend the rest of the night together in your bed. However, Luke doesn’t get much sleep. 

He holds you close to his chest as you sleep and thinks about everything you had told him. He hates himself for not noticing sooner. But a very small part of him feels relieved. If your mom caused you this much pain, then maybe convincing you to join him in taking down the Gods wouldn’t be as hard as he thought…

He hates himself even more for thinking that.   

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x aphrodite!reader #pjo tv show #pjo series #luke castellan #fanfic #hurt/comfort #angst #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #percy jackon and the olympians #coquette #coquette aesthetic #tw 3d vent

[apomaro-mellow]

Family Planning 1/?

Steddie; omegaverse; omega!steve x alpha!eddie

It's time for the ole flour baby project and who should Eddie get paired up with but none other than high school royalty Steve? They both need this grade to graduate but can they get through it without tearing the bag to shreds?

Read on AO3

Steve woke up to his alarm, rushing out of bed. His morning routine, however, was not rushed. The radio sounded as he stood in front of his bathroom mirror. Guitar riffs filled his head as he washed, brushed, and dried. He put on a red sweater, fall was finally kicking in and he felt it. With a quick goodbye to his parents, he got in his car and drove off to pick up his friends, Tommy and Carol.

Carol walked out of her front door. Tommy scaled down from Carol’s window. Steve only shook his head as they both got inside.

“How do your parents not know?”, Steve asked Carol.

“She knows how to keep things quiet”, Tommy winked at her from the front seat.

“Yeah, I just gag him every night. He loves it”, Carol pinched his cheek and withdrew her hand before he could swat it away.

They pulled up to the school as other students were arriving. There was still five minutes until homeroom which meant they had about twenty minutes before they had to get to class. So they took their positions, leaning against the car, talking about whatever drifted to their minds. 

“Davidson is already staring me down like he knows I’m gonna fail”, Tommy said.

“Maybe he wouldn’t glare so much if you didn’t put a thumbtack in his chair”, Carol pointed out.

“He shouldn’t be such a buzzkill, right Steve?”

“His punishment fits the crime”, Steve agreed. “Davidson can’t touch you anyways.”

Carol smirked. “Yeah, your solid D streak makes you untouchable.”

“Why’s this woman always gotta give me grief Steve? Why can’t we just ditch her?”

Steve rolled his eyes but was smiling. “You forget, Carol came first. If anyone’s getting ditched, it’s you.”

Before Tommy could retort, a van roared into the parking lot, chaotic music playing too loud to discern most of the melody. It stopped abruptly and the driver excited just as quickly, slamming the door.

“Desperate for attention, much?”, Carol remarked.

Eddie Munson. A guy with all the bad markings of an alpha: loud, brash, hard headed, and just a general nuisance. Not wanting to cross paths with him, Steve led the way inside. He went out of his way to avoid Eddie’s van but unfortunately, the rest of his weird club was at the door and suddenly, Eddie was there, shouting at the rest of the members, causing Steve to wince. And that little movement was all it took to get his attention.

“My apologies, your highness, for inconveniencing your ear drums”, he gave a deep bow. 

Steve rolled his eyes and went past. Steve had been one of the first of their senior class to present, doing so literally the first semester of freshman year. When he returned to school, smelling of cinnamon and vanilla, he had been dubbed ‘princess’ and the nickname stuck to senior year.

Living in a big house with parents who gave you everything you wanted didn’t help matters. Steve took it in stride. His classmates were willing to do a lot for their princess. Like Tommy shoving Eddie so they could get through the door.

“God, what a sleaze. What’re the chances of him actually graduating this year?”, Tommy wiped his arm like it was actually dirtied.

“As likely as you making it above a C average in Davidson’s”, Steve snarked.

—-----------------------

Eddie held the grin, even through the comment about his graduation status. Last year wasn’t it but second time was the charm, as they said. Still, it didn’t mean he was going to become a model student. Which was why he never went to homeroom. He skipped English on occasion too. But Home Economics, he usually tuned in to. There was a 50/50 chance they’d be cooking something and Eddie would get to poach tastes from his partner’s cooking.

He burst in just as Ms. Engels was in the process of getting the class to settle from their pre-lunch antsy-ness. He took his seat in the back, feet propped up on the back of the chair in front of him.

“Alright, children, listen! Today we are beginning a project that will take not just the rest of this semester, but also into the next”, Ms. Engels began, starting a wave of groans.

Steve was only half paying attention. Whatever project, he was sure he could lean on his partner to get it done. Home Ec was definitely still in the dark ages of family planning, putting most of the home-oriented things on the omega, but it was the 20th century. Omegas could go into the workplace, get high profile jobs, and didn’t need to just sit at home and pop out babies.

Then Ms. Engels put a sack of flour on her desk. With a little pink beanie on top. Steve’s stomach dropped.

“It’s time class, for the ‘family’ part of family planning.”

She went into detail about the assignment. That they would be paired appropriately according to their secondary gender and that they would need to keep a detailed log of when they fed the baby and changed it and who watched over it.

“Take note of how much formula and diapers cost. And the more in-depth you report, the greater chance of a high grade. As a couple, if you would like to give any updates during class, I would encourage it.”

Then she took out a list, announcing the couples and gesturing for one to come up and grab one of the many sacks of flour set in a box and to grab a beanie in either blue or pink. As she went down the list and choices got eliminated, Steve felt a sense of dread. The same feeling was coming over Eddie as he realized the same thing Steve did. 

This was one of the few periods he didn’t share with Tommy or Carol. Dammit, as incessant as Tommy might’ve been, him being a beta meant they could’ve been paired together. But that wasn’t the reality right now.

“Aaron Hall and Cathy Mansley. Steven Harrington and Edward Munson.”

Steve was frozen in place. There was no way. No way in hell that he had to pretend to be a parent with Munson of all people. Eddie was frozen too, but only for a second before he shot up and strutted up to the teacher’s desk. He hefted a bag of flour into his arms and stretched a hat across its head, a pink one.

“She’s got your eyes honey bun~”, Eddie winked at Steve, causing snickers and giggles.

Steve scoffed but ignored him otherwise as Ms. Engels directed them to fill out the first form she gave them about name, sex, date of birth, the weight of the baby, as well as the names of the sire and the dame. Eddie pulled his chair right up to Steve’s desk, determined not to be ignored.

“So what are we gonna name our precious gift from above?”

“You decide. I don’t really care”, Steve said, barely sparing him a glance.

Eddie gasped dramatically and covered the pretend ears of their offspring. “How can you say something so cruel? And after she came from your own loins.”

Steve cringed. “Don’t talk about my loins Munson.”

“Okay, fair. In all serious though, I need to get a good grade on this project”, Eddie said.

The bell rang, saving Steve from another second of this. “Sounds like you better buckle up, pops. Can’t be a good example if high school takes you three times.” 

Steve stayed long enough to watch the alpha’s face drop and then walked out of the room to his next class. Steve thought he’d made it clear that Eddie was on his own with this assignment. What was the point in playing pretend? Steve wasn’t having kids for a long time.

So he wasn’t impressed when Eddie stepped right up to his lunch table, that bag of flour under his arm like he was carrying books and not a child.

“I don’t think I was making myself clear back in Engel’s”, Eddie started.

“What’s he talking about?”, Tommy asked.

“Oh holy shit”, Carol’s face broke out in a smile so wide, “You’re doing that project with Eddie Munson?”

“You want the whole cafeteria to hear?”, Steve hissed. It went unbidden as Carol laughed and Tommy snickered. “I figured you could handle it. This isn’t your first time, right?”

Eddie set their unnamed flour pup onto the table. “Last year she did the nutrition diary, so I’m new to fatherhood. And you’re gonna need to shape up, mother dearest.”

“Ugh, don’t call me that”, Steve groaned.

“Father dearest, then?” There was a new wave of male omegas who preferred to be called dad over mom, and Eddie could respect that. 

“Gag me.”

“Tempting, but I think Engels will have a problem if only one parent reports. And I have no problem telling her I did the brunt of the work.”

Steve raised a brow. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s a warning, Harrington.”

Tommy stood up then. “Back off trash!” 

He shoved Eddie and multiple things happened at once. Eddie tried to grab for the table or something and instead grabbed the flour. He fell backward into someone, making them dump their lunch on his head, and the bag of flour flew, landing heavily on Principal Woolsley in a spectacular explosion of white.

“MUNSON! MY OFFICE! NOW!”

If Steve thought he was off the hook, he was sorely mistaken. While Eddie was hauled off to the office, he was able to keep his head down for a while. But Eddie must’ve snitched because Ms. Van Dorf in the office called his name on the intercom to come to the principal’s office. 

Eddie was still sitting in one of the chairs, unidentifiable foodstuffs in his hair. Mr. Woolsley had gotten most of the flour off of himself, with only a light dusting on his shoulders. Ms. Engels was also present.

“I’ve been informed of the project your class is undergoing. Bags of flour don’t grow on trees”, Woolsley said, hands folded on his desk. 

“Hey, even I can afford a bag of flour”, Eddie said. “What’s the damage? A dollar?”

“That’s not the point, Mr. Munson. What happened in the lunch room was a flagrant display of irresponsibility”, Ms. Engels said.

“I’m not the one being irresponsible”, Eddie looked to Steve who was still standing by the door.

“You two are going to show Ms. Engels that you deserve another chance at this project”, Woolsley started. “You have until the end of the week to show her your dedication and earn another sack of flour.”

“How are we supposed to do that?”, Steve asked, arms crossed.

“Get creative. Oh and detention for you both today. They need help in the theatre department”, Woolsley said before dismissing them.

Eddie shoved past Steve to get to a bathroom and wash his hair. Steve spent the rest of the day talking off his friend’s ears about the whole ordeal and by the time detention came, he was ready to rip him apart and let them both flunk this class. But unfortunately, Steve needed this grade as much as Eddie. He was only taking senior year one time, thank you very much.

He walked into the storage room as directed by the head of the department and found Eddie already there, sorting fabrics. Steve was determined to ignore him, getting right to work rifling through a box of paints and tossing ones that were either empty or bone dry.

Eddie spoke up after a whopping five minutes of silence. “So, any ideas on how to earn the favor of our warden?”

“We were told to get creative. I figured that was more your speed”, Steve said.

Eddie grinned. “I’ve been known to dabble in the creative arts. But I admit, my mind is drawing a blank. How to appear as a responsible parent? To be quite honest, I don’t have a lot of experience with those.”

“What about your uncle?”, Steve asked.

“...How do you know my uncle?”

Steve looked up from his box. “It’s a small town, Munson.”

“Yeah, well, you got me there.” His Uncle Wayne was a pretty nice role model. Decent, hard working. If Eddie was half the caretaker he was, any future kid or bag of food would be in good hands. “What about you?”

“Me?”, Steve said before shrugging. “My parents are fine. Kinda assholes sometimes, but what parent isn’t?”

“Do they dote on you like the rest of the royal court?”

“The wha-stop, I’m not the princess everyone thinks I am.”

“You’re avoiding the question”, Eddie pointed out.

“I don’t know if doting is the word, but they’re parents. They give me what I want sometimes. And what I need.”

“Well, that’s what we have to prove if we want another chance”, Eddie sighed. “But how the hell are we supposed to be doting parents to a kid we don’t have?”

Steve shrugged when just a half second through the motion, he had an epiphany. “Wait! We don’t have a kid yet!”

“Uh, yeah, that’s what I just said. Keep up Harrington.”

“No, we don’t have a kid yet”, Steve repeated, getting to his feet and moving closer to Eddie like proximity would make him easier to understand. 

“I feel like I’m not high enough for this conversation we’re having.”

“What if-hear me out-what if we put on like we’re expecting parents?”, Steve suggested.

Eddie wasn’t sure where he was leaning on that idea, when he looked past Steve at something that had to have been put there by fate. A fake stomach for when someone had to act as a pregnant person during a school play. 

“Oh this is either gonna be really stupid or really funny.”

Steve followed his sight and blushed a little, then turned back to Eddie. “I don’t see why it can’t be both.”

Part 2 coming soon

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o

[kteezy997]

Daddy’s Boy- Part Seven//t.c.

Warning: some angst

It was an extremely filling breakfast at the local diner, and you had a great time with the two boys. A part of you felt giddy, like you were on a date that your son just happened to join. You felt like something was really blossoming between you and Timmy again.

Timmy had forbidden you to pay the breakfast bill, and Theo was playing the claw machine piled high with stuffed animals nearby. You had an idea that had been brewing during the meal.

“So I was just thinking: maybe tonight Theo and I could stay at your place? Or maybe just him, if you want to spend time with him one on one.” you hoped he would say “Oh no, I would love for you to come, too.”

Timmy's eyes widened, and he didn’t immediately agree.

Your heart dropped and you were instantly embarrassed.

“Oh, well I would love to have you both, but I have plans tonight, actually.” he slid his hand into his pocket, retrieving his wallet to pay.

You nodded, feeling almost sick to your stomach, “I see. What plans do you have?” you shook your head, knowing you had overstepped, and maybe assumed too much. “No, it’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s just…I’m meeting someone for dinner. A coworker. She, um, asked me to dinner. It’s not that big of a deal.” Timmy tried to brush the whole thing off in front of you.

“She? It’s a date? That’s nice, Timmy.” you weren’t being condescending, but you were masking your true feelings.

He looked at you, shook his head, his curls going wild just for a second, “Not really a date. It’s just dinner.”

“I bet she likes you. Everyone likes you.” And I have fumbled you.

“I hate that stupid game!” Theo grumbled as he came back over to the table.

You cleared your throat, looking at your son, “Hey, we don’t say those words, and you know that.”

“Sorry, Mom. It’s just that I never win anything.” the boy frowned, picking up his little cup of chocolate milk and taking a swig.

“It’s okay, bud, you have plenty of toys at home. And I’ll tell you something that’ll make you feel better.” Timmy said, leaning across the table.

Theo perked up, his eyes glued to his father, “What, what is it?”

“You are gonna come spend the night with me tomorrow night.” he grinned.

“Yeah!" Theo cheered, throwing his arms up in the air like he had won a prize from the claw machine after all, "Sleepover at Daddy’s! Can I bring my Hot Wheels?”

"You can bring whatever you want." Timmy said.

You gave him a look from across the table.

"Within reason." he added.

.............

You were a bit of an emotional wreck for the rest of the day. Timmy went home and you talked Theo into spending the night at your parents' house. You needed a break. You needed time to think.

You needed to talk to someone about your situation with Timmy. You had begun to think that you had let him slip through your fingers, and now you were worried that you would only be Theo's mom in Timmy’s eyes and not a potential partner.

You asked your best friend Lucie to come over and she came through with pizza and her listening, compassionate ears. You had told her everything. She had always liked Timmy; she thought that you were a great match together, and she adored Theo.

"I don't know, Luce, what if he goes out with this other woman and they start dating? My life would be ruined having to see him with someone else.” you put your hand to your head, “And it would be another thing that Theo would have to get used to. Things were going so good. I should have just told him that I wanted to be with him."

"Y/n, you have trauma, not necessarily from Timmy, but from the breakup and not having Theo's father around. Of course, you were skeptical about putting yourself back out there, and you were right to not rush something that you weren't sure about. Especially since you also have Theo’s well-being to consider.”

You sighed, knowing that she was right. "But if it was the right thing, why do I feel like this? It's too late to do anything now."

Lucie frowned, "Who says it's too late? You could leave right now, and stop him from going on that date."

You laughed, "Right now? That's crazy! He could be gone already.

"Let's go, let's go right now!" she said, "We can try to catch him." Lucie grabbed your hand, pulling you, and rushing out of your home. "You are going to tell that man that you love him, and you want to raise Theo together and make more babies." she said, matter-of-factly.

"This is insane!" you yelled, getting into your best friend's car and she sped off into the night. You could feel the adrenaline and exhilaration that the moment was bringing.

…….

You knocked the door of Timmy's apartment, not even certain if he was home. All you had was hope. After a moment, your stomach went sour as there was no answer. You decided to give up, as he was probably out on his date.

You swallowed your pride and realized that it was time to come to terms with your relationship, or lack thereof, with Timmy. This night could be detrimental to your life going forward. He could have a new girlfriend, and everything between you and him would wash away with the changing tide. You decided to walk away.

You were walking away from the door, when suddenly, you heard the turning of a the door knob.

"Y/n?"

You turned around quickly, seeing Timmy standing in the doorway that you had just left. "Timmy." you said, going back over to him, feeling a little dazed because you couldn't believe he was actually there. It wasn't too late!

"Are you okay? Is Theo okay, wh-where is he?" the concern in his eyes made you feel terrible guilt. You had caused him to needlessly worry.

"Oh we're fine! Everything is fine! He's with my parents for the night." you assured him. "I just had to come and see you."

"Y/n, what's going on?" his face softened as he looked at you.

"Timothee, I don't, I don't want you to go on this date tonight, I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner. And maybe I have no right to say that to you, but-"

"I won't go if you don't want me to." he shook his head, gazing down at you, so tenderly.

You couldn't help but smile a little at what he had said, and for the first time, you felt like your feelings and assumptions were validated. "I love you, Timmy. I've always loved you. I love the man you are and the father you are becoming to our son. I think we... should be together." you felt your throat tighten up with the nerves you were feeling.

He grinned, saying, "I hate that we were ever apart." He took your hand, pulling you close to him.

In an instant, you felt warm and tingly in the best way. You were mush when you were this close to him. You felt at home.

"Come here." He put his forehead to yours, wrapping his arms around you and shutting the door behind you. "I love you too." he kissed your lips softly, then parting to add, "And I love our boy more than anything."

You threw your arms around him as well, and you pressed your lips to his. Your heart and your body were on fire. After a moment, you were making out shamelessly.

Timmy picked you up and took you over to the couch.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @mel-vaz @thatoneweirdgirl17 @iwishchalamet @jindongdongie @elloise0 @rennyd26 @briefkittenearthquake @that-one-fangirl69 @sammy-halpert

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothée imagine #timothee x reader #timothee fanfic

[blankwashed]

Content Warnings: 18+ stuff here, ddlg (daddy dom, little girl), broken family, pretty rough sex, Toji himself should be a warning-

You let out a big sigh. It was probably the hardest or easiest essay you have ever gotten academically. It was an easy question for the rest of your classmates as they were happily writing away about their parents or guardians, thinking about the happy holidays and birthdays that they have received throughout their life.

15 minutes have passed and your paper was still blank, without even a paragraph structure. What could you write about your father? Sure, he wasn’t your actual father per se but your mother married him ever since you were a child so that counts, right?

At the age of 6, your mom kept going out on Friday nights, leaving you to be taken care of by your aunts and uncles. She would leave until it was Sunday night when she picks you up and brings you home. In the mind of a little child, you figured she went out for work purposes but in reality, she was going on dates with a special man whom you would eventually call dad.

Sometimes, she leaves you at home with food already prepared and brings him over. Of course, she would place your toys around the television and goes into the bedroom with the man. As you were innocent, you thought that they were both talking about business as your mother always looks pleased whenever she comes out of the room. A little tired, but a smile on her face.

This went on for 2 years until she came to you saying that you’ll finally have a father figure in your life. Of course, he was your father. The striking, muscular, tall man built like a soldier. Sometimes he made your heart beat faster and louder when he was around the home minding his own business. He watched you grow up into the gorgeous and pretty girl you are now. Attending teacher-parent meetings when necessary, signing documents and being your personal chauffeur whenever you and your friends wanted to go for outings to malls.

Behind all of that, you kept a deep and dark secret from everyone. Something you would not even tell your best friend or even a fly.

“Nyah! Daddy, sore from P.E. class yesterday! My teacher asked us to run laps and I think I overdid myself-“

He thrusted himself deeper into your dry pussy while his fingers were forming quick circles around your clitoris.

Sure, he filled the gap in your mom’s life when your actual dad left. But that wasn’t the only thing he was filling. Toji isn’t blind or stupid. Maybe a little out of his mind but as a man, he watched you grow up. Breasts forming, hips enlarging. It would be a lie if you say you didn’t secretly touched yourself thinking about him.

“No buts, bitch. Today was a hard day at work and the only thing that could make my day is your tight pussy. Mmm, thankfully it’s still tight,,,,,” He pushed himself deeper multiple times while playing with your clit. You were in pain due to the lack of foreplay and you remembered an idea you had in school during Arts class.

It was always something you’ve wanted to try. Running towards your school bag, rummaging through all your utensils.

Found it. A thick flowy strip of red ribbon.

“C‘mere daddy, let me decorate you before I feast on you,” smirking while tying a beautiful ribbon around his leaking hard cock. “Look daddy! It’s giving me a reward for making it look so appealing~” you said, referring to the trickles of pre-cum dripping.

Toji was about x years older than you. This wasn’t the first time he saw a chick gawking (no pun intended) at his length. Obviously that was also the way your own mother knew that he was the man for her.

“Getting creative, are we? Let daddy reward you for giving our play-time a little more effort,” he says lowly while playing with your left nipple with his tongue. His big hands always perform wonders on the rest of your body while his prize winning cock was busy elsewhere on your body.

Your moans were and are melodies to his ears. You weren’t big on being able to form sentences while getting fucked silly, however…

“Please daddy! I-I’m your little dirty slut, make me come daddy! I need it, I NEED you! Daddy…” you tried to touch your clit with your fingers but they were swatted away by his hand.

“When has it ever been about what you want, toy?” he spit on your pussy, and started to rub vigorously. It was in no way pleasurable and it hurt.

You knew he was doing this on purpose and knew that it wouldn’t get better if you kept disobeying his commands. With both your mom and Megumi away, he made you sit on the family’s dining table. Pushing away everything that could be in the way of him and you.

He pushed you down, readying himself to slurp on his wet, awaiting treasure. You were still a mess, moaning and screaming his name. “Daddy please, don’t make me wait any longer, please daddy,,,” your toes start curling and you could feel the long awaited climax reaching.

“Cumming daddy!!! Shit, I fucking love you-“ you screamed as you came while holding onto his broad shoulders. Your mind was as if it was in a different world, a world where Toji, your step-dad was yours. Where you didn’t have to hide your feelings towards him and you could touch him romantically and sexually in public.

so fucking horny for toji, are we???? (we as in me)

#toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #jjk smut #fics #help #im having semester break but i just want toji to help me ace my classes #daddy toji #smut #toji x reader

[reviewsdefinitionofsatisfaction]

Taylor has been lying on Joe since You’re Losing Me (Important Thread)

I’ve been confident in this theory since Midnights, but didn’t know how to spread it. Taylor is now blatantly lying about Joe and rewriting history. SHE was the one who didn’t want to get married, and Joe broke up with her over it. She chose fame over marriage, and the evidence is all over her music.

Ever since I heard “Mine” I instinctively knew Taylor was afraid of marriage. It’s the classic child-of-divorce case. “You say we’ll never make my parents’ mistakes.” / “Brace myself for the goodbye ‘cause it’s all I’ve ever known.”

Her fear of marriage continues throughout her discography. Don’t let “Lover” and “Paper Rings” fool you—those were false promises to Joe at the start of their relationship. Listen to “champagne problems,” a song she and Joe co-wrote. What couple writes a song about breaking up because the girl is terrified of marriage 4 years into their relationship? Why, one where that’s happening, of course. “Your Midas touch on the Chevy door,” aka how she always references Joe turning things to gold. And don’t forget “Renegade,” a song where in the music video SHE is the one anxiously staring out the window being told to “open the blinds.” (“Is it really your anxiety that stops you from giving me everything or do you just not want to?”, the lyric referring to Joe asking for marriage) This was a song written by Taylor from Joe’s perspective at the time. “I tapped on your window on your darkest night” (referring to Rep era) / “Starry eyes sparking up my darkest night.” … “And then you squeeze my hand as I’m about to leave.” (Joe’s POV) / “It’s on your face, don’t walk away, I need to say…” Taylor was the one always blowing up on him and then apologizing, as illustrated in Afterglow, The Great War, and most obviously her post-breakup behavior. Joe was NOT the volatile one of the two (also supported by articles released by her team, stating Joe’s personality was “great for Taylor” because “he is very calm”).

Then, just look at Midnights. The Bejeweled music video (which Taylor wrote and directed) is the clearest thing. A video all about choosing pop-stardom over a ring from a prince? While she and her boyfriend are having marriage disagreements? Hmmm. Interesting. Seriously, just go watch the intro to that video and tell me Taylor was the one fighting to get married behind the scenes.

Midnights lyrics: “He wanted a bride, I was making my own name. Chasing that fame.” (a person who WANTS to get married would NOT be writing this song!!!) “All they keep asking me is if I’m gonna be your bride. The only kind of girl they see is a one night or a wife.” “No deal the 1950s shit they want from me. I just wanna stay in that lavender haze” “I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser.” “I have this dream my daughter-in-law kills me for the money. She thinks I left them in the will.” (accompanied by elaborate scene displaying family-related anxieties in music video)

This is someone who is terrified of marriage and being an adult. I believe she launched herself into a fame-hug to avoid confronting her issues with Joe at this late stage in their relationship. After he broke up with her, she realized how deep of a mistake she made during the Eras Tour. Hence, the big lie in “You’re Losing Me” (which was written THEN, in 2023, conveniently dropped during the Matty Healy controversy) and her daring him to “say something” about the lie. (False God lyric: “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this, staring out the window like I’m not your favorite town.” When they fight, he was always the one ignoring her craziness.) And soon after, her peculiar surprise song choices on June 23: “Paper Rings” (“I’d marry you with paper rings”) and “If This Was A Movie” (“If this was a movie, you’d be here by now”).

The initial breakup article by People (Tree Paine’s mouthpiece) even outlines this story. “According to multiple sources, Swift and Alwyn had been ‘talking about marriage as recently as a few months ago.’ But at the end of the day, the couple wasn’t ready for a future together. ‘Taylor didn’t see them working out in the long run,’ says the insider.” This was before she wrote YLM, trying to provoke him, and now she will be driving it further with this new album I’m certain she wrote during 2023, NOT 2 years ago like she and Jack are trying to push. Her having Jack drop YLM’s “2021 date,” and then liking that tweet implying Sweet Nothing was not about Joe (when it was clearly about Joe)… she’s rewriting the narrative. You can’t trust a word she says.

#you are losing me #taylor swift #anti taylor swift #anti matty healy #joe alwyn #matty healy #the tortured poets department #midnight album #reddit #midnights

[q-gorgeous]

The Fenton-Feel Giver

fanfiction

ao3

word count: 1579

This time, instead of making a weapon to hurt ghosts, the Fentons make a weapon that allows them to “get their feelings back”. Problem is, they already have them, so what happens when you take an already emotional ghost teen and amplify it by 10? @Amabsis

rararararararararara

Danny sat at the kitchen table, tiredly eating cereal while Jazz read a book next to him as she ate her eggs. He held his head in his left hand and he was about to nod off when his parents erupted from the door to the lab. 

“Hey, kids! Come look at what we just finished!” His dad bellowed. Danny jumped at the loud sound of his voice. 

“It’s too early for this.” He groaned as he and Jazz forcefully followed their parents downstairs into the lab.” 

“It’s our newest ghost hunting weapon!” Maddie smiled excitedly. 

Danny flinched as his dad brandished his new gun.

“This bad boy will give all these apathetic ectoplasmic post human copies all of their feelings back! They’ll never know what hit them!” 

“Dad, how do you really know that ghosts don’t have feelings?” Jazz asked him, looking between Danny and their dad. “You’ve never had a conversation with a ghost. How can you say you know how their minds work?” 

“How can any ghost have feelings when they’re terrorizing the city all the time? Surely if they had feelings they would think about their actions and how it might be affecting the people around them.” Maddie said.

“Now you’re just putting your prejudice on them!” Jazz planted her hands on her hips. “Not all ghosts go around terrorizing the city all the time!”

“Also the ghosts just think it’s fun. They don’t care how we feel, even with feelings.”

The three of them looked over at Danny. His eyes widened when he realized they heard his comment. 

“See who terrorizes a city for fun?”

“That still doesn’t mean they don’t have feelings!” 

Danny rolled his eyes and stood up. This was ridiculous. He didn’t need to sit here and listen to his family argue about something that he knew was false. 

“Danny-boy! Where are you going? I haven’t even demonstrated it yet!”

He turned around to face his dad. “I gotta go. I have to-”

He gasped out a breath of cold air. And he inwardly groaned.

“Have to, to- go to the library and check out a book I forgot I needed! It’s about a project on Patrocolos!”

“You’re still learning about that guy?” Jack frowned. 

“Long unit.” Danny said as he backed up. “Very important to a lot of different cultures. What a guy.”

“Be back before curfew!” His mom called to him and he turned and dashed his way up the stairs. 

When he hit the top he transformed and flew through the roof and scanned the streets around him. Where was the ghost? 

“I am the Box Ghost!” 

Danny closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning.

“Tremble before me and my boxes of doOoom!” 

Danny flew in the direction that the Box Ghost’s voice was coming from. He came into view and he had a swarm of boxes flying around him.

“Hey, Boxy!” 

The Box Ghost turned around to face him. “Ah, Phantom! I see you’ve heard my war call! You will face my wrath and get boxed!” 

Danny scoffed. “As if. Your wrath is about a centimeter long.” 

“You will regret your words, young halfling! My boxes will leave deep cardboard cuts all over your skin! I will-” 

Danny sucked the Box Ghost into the thermos as he was talking. He yelled as he got sucked in and the sound was cut off when the beam disappeared. Danny capped the thermos as all the boxes fell into the street. 

He heard the screeching of tires below him and looked down. His parent’s van plowed to a stop and they were jumping out. 

“There he is, Jack!” His mom pointed at where he floated up in the sky. 

“This is the perfect time to test our new weapon, Maddie!” 

Danny’s eyes widened. Considering ghosts really did actually have feelings, Danny didn’t know what it would do to him. He didn’t think he wanted to find out either. 

They started shooting at him. His dad had the new weapon they showed off at breakfast this morning. His mom had what looked like a regular ectogun. 

He dodged as many blasts as he could, but they just kept coming. One flew past him and sent him spinning. He went back right side up but it was too late.

“Haha! Taste the Fenton Feel-giver!” 

Danny didn’t have enough time to jump and dodge the blast that his dad shot at him. He put his hands up to block his face when the blast made contact. It sent him hurtling towards the ground. The blast itself didn’t hurt nearly as much as he was expecting but his collision with the ground did and he peeked out from behind his arms to see his dad barely containing his excitement. 

Then his mom walked towards him, brandishing her Fenton bazooka and Danny’s heart started racing.

He covered his head and cowered away from her. 

“Don’t hurt me, Mom!” He shouted. 

“Mom?” Maddie exclaimed. 

“I promise I’m not a monster! Don’t hurt me!” 

Danny scurried backwards away from her. What was happening to him? His heart was racing and he was starting to hyperventilate. 

Maddie lowered her weapon, but she looked unsure about it. 

“Jack?” She turned to face him. 

“He looks just like a child.” Jack whispered. 

“Is he just a child?” Maddie asked him.

Danny looked up at his parents. He could tell by their faces that they weren’t expecting the consequences of actually seeing a ghost’s feelings. That they weren’t expecting him to be so human.

Maddie knelt down to be at eye level with him. She reached a hand forward and Danny fell back trying to get away from it.

“Don’t touch me!”

She pulled her hand back and looked at Jack. 

“Phantom, do you remember your human mother?”

He looked at her. How ironic was this. This was some cosmic irony here.

He wasn’t sure what he should do. So he just nodded. 

“Did she ever hurt you?”

Ectoblast burns. Bazooka blasts. Kicks to the stomach.

“Not on purpose. But she did.” 

Maddie’s felt settled into a sad expression. A tear ran down Danny’s cheek as they stared at each other. She reached towards him to wipe it off but he pulled back and jumped into the air.

“Don’t- don't touch me.”

“Phantom, would you like to come back to our lab with us? We could-” 

His heart rate continued to race and his chest rose and fell too quickly with each breath. Scalpels and dissection tables. Samples and tests and inventions and so many other terrifying things were down in that lab. He couldn’t- No. No no no. 

He felt his transformation rings appearing. He knew that if he was ever too hurt that he transformed back. If he passed out he’d transform back. He didn’t ever think he’d be too emotionally distressed that it would force him to transform back. He couldn’t. Not here. 

He pushed the rings back and they were gone for a moment but they just reappeared a second later.

“Jack, what are those rings? Have you ever seen anything like that before?” 

“No I haven’t. What kind of power could that be?”

He couldn’t keep the transformation rings back anymore. They traveled over his body and he watched as his parents confused expressions morphed into ones of horror. The ring passed over his head and he started falling towards the ground. 

“Danny?” His mom called in shock.

His dad ran forward and caught Danny in the air before he hit the ground. Danny scrambled to get out of his father’s arms and fell, hitting the ground. 

“Don’t touch me!” 

“Danny, how is this possible? How did this-”

“You can’t hurt me! Please!” 

Maddie faltered and took a step away from him. “We would never hurt you.”

Danny shook his head. “You wanted to. You always talk about how you want to hurt me so badly. About all the nasty horrible things you want to do to me.”

“But we never- if we’d known it was you, we would never have said those things.”

Danny looked her in the eyes. “Even if it wasn’t me, I’m still just a kid. It doesn’t matter if it’s me or not.”

Maddie and Jack looked at each other.

“We’ll make this right.” Jack said. “We’ll get you fixed up and-”

“No! You can’t take it! I don’t need to be fixed!”

“Take what?” Maddie asked.

“My core!” 

Maddie’s eyes opened wide. “You have a core?”

“You can’t have it.” 

Maddie shook her head. She looked like she wanted to reach out to him and touch him but she kept her hands firmly at her side where she knelt down. “We don’t want your core.”

“We need to reverse the effects that the Fenton Feel-giver had on you.”

“No experiments?” Danny asked. He looked back and forth between his parents. 

“No experiments.” Jack said.

Danny was still looking between the two of them. His heart rate was starting to slow. 

“You still love me?”

Danny could see the moment his mom’s heart broke. “Of course we do, sweetie.”

Tears welled up in Danny’s eyes and he held out a hand to his mom. She grabbed it and stood up, pulling him with her. 

“It’ll be okay. We’ll get you fixed up and then you can tell us how this all happened.” 

Danny nodded. He took a deep breath. “You still love me.” 

“More than life itself.”

#gorgi writes #danny phantom #danny fenton #jack fenton #maddie fenton #phic phight 2024 #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #phic