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auteurdelabre · 5 months

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A Little Sun pt 1 DieterBravo x f!Reader

rating: 18+ (future chapters)

Pairings: Dieter Bravo x f! Reader (no detailed physical descriptions, no use of y/n)

summary: As a PA to megastar and mega man-child Dieter Bravo you've had your fair share of headaches. Getting accidentally pregnant with his baby however takes the cake, especially when he offers to pay you to be his surrogate. You just weren't expecting to fall in love with him along the way. (plot prompt inspired by 'Daddy Dieter' by @absurdthirst on Ao3 - read their story, its really wonderful!)

warnings/tags: Unplanned Pregnancy, Surrogacy, Family Issues, Sweet!Dieter, Drugs, Alcohol, Getting Drunk, Boss/Employee Relationship,

a/n: I am actively tryin' to make everyone a Dieter Bravo stan. He is slept on in this fandom istg.

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Part 1: First Trimester

"With every newborn baby, a little sun rises." - Irmgard Erath

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Being actor Dieter Bravo's assistant comes with many boons. You get to hob-knob with celebrities, attend galas and parties, get to travel the world and you get paid decently. The downside?

You have to work for Dieter man-child Bravo.

He's an impossibly immature, inconsiderate man who's flakier than your mother's pie dough.

When he isn't being a walking hypocrite who won't eat processed foods but has no problem taking copious amounts of coke, he's making your life a living hell. He loves to party and experiment with whatever drug is in vogue. Too often you're scraping him off a club floor and dragging him home.

One memorable experience was flying by private jet over to Moscow to bring him home for the Academy Awards (which he fucking won because some people have all the luck) after he'd followed some hot Russian male model there and Dieter was convinced he was going to give up his citizenship and stay in Russia forever.

Your mother cannot stand him. She reads about his exploits in the tabloids. She thinks your job is a waste of your talents.

She's not wrong.

But this will all be worth it when you have enough to pay off the mortgage on your family home. As soon as you can your mother can stop working herself into an early grave pulling double shifts at the hospital.

You'll be able to move out into your own place and then you'll be able to finally go back to school and finish your Masters program. The one you had to quit so you could help support your mom after your father unexpectedly died.

You'd been lucky to land the gig with Bravo. Plucked from the group of giggling models who whispered how excited they were to have Dieter Bravo as their boss. You held your resume and reference letters tightly, your mind focused on the salary listed.

When you walked into the office to be interviewed with your long sleeves, high neckline and impressive resume his manager had been intrigued. When she asked what your favorite Dieter Bravo movie was and you had replied "Uh, I don't think I've seen many of his movies" she had given a wry smile and declared you a perfect fit for the job and hired you on the spot.

Dieter had been disappointed. You remember the way his eyes roved over your body in your frumpy clothes and your serious face. He had been looking for fun. You weren't fun.

You were a planner. You were someone who liked doing her job well. And your job was him. Getting him to set on time, organizing his appointments, dropping him with his publicist Diane so she could stop him from saying dumb shit to the tabloids when they cornered him and asked about his ex boyfriend or girlfriend.

You put up with a lot of his shit.

You also listen to a lot of the shit he says. The theories he has about the Hollywood elite, the creative outlets he wants to pursue, the scripts he has to read. You've learned to tune out his really stupid ideas.

The idea of fatherhood comes to Dieter after his latest relationship crashes and burns. In typical Bravo fashion it's a spur of the moment event. A decision with no forethought. He mentions it casually over breakfast as you run through his schedule for the day.

"I'm gonna be a dad."

"Oh yeah? Who's the lucky lady?" you reply drolly, bringing up his schedule on the tablet in your hand.

"Dunno. Haven't decided yet." He leans back in his chair, serene smile on his face.

You keep in the eye roll and go over what he's doing that day. He continues looking dreamily off into the distance, not paying attention.

You assume that this baby thing is similar to the goat therapy sanctuary: an amusing idea that strikes him as fun and that will exit as quickly and quietly as it arrived in his brain.

But a month later Dieter comes home in a foul mood slamming the door to his large home behind him.

"I thought you women wanted commitment!"

You look up from your desk. You've been busy all morning managing his socials. "Huh?"

"You remember my ex? Annika?"

"Yeah."

"We broke up because she wanted kids and I didn't," Dieter says throwing himself dramatically into the chair opposite you. "So I figure she's perfect for this! I went to see her and told her I wanted to settle down and have a baby."

"And what did she say?"

"To leave her dentist's office and never contact her again."

"Wait," you lower your phone. "You went to her dentist's office?"

"That's where her fiancé said she was and I couldn't wait!"

"Her fiancé told you that?"

"Yeah," Dieter groans, not seeing how it was inappropriate. "I'm getting older by the second. I don't wanna be too old to be a dad."

You hold in a sigh, seeing that he's beside himself. Dieter is a successful actor, this is true. But he's just as famous for his hard-partying and wild sex-capades. No woman in her right mind would willingly have a child with such a man.

"If you're that desperate to be a dad then adopt," you say trying to hold in your disdain. You don't think Dieter Bravo should be anywhere near anything to do with a child. And you know he won't be approved for adoption so there's no harm in suggesting it.

"No. I want to pass on my genes."

You give him a raised brow in return. The same genetics that give him his impossibly luscious hair and beautiful brown eyes are also responsible for his love for drugs and spontaneous decision making.

"What did your friend Becky do again?" Dieter asks sitting cross-legged in his chair. "The one who couldn't get pregnant with her husband?"

You're shocked he remembers this tidbit of your life at all. You kind of just assume he's not listening all that closely when you talk about a topic that doesn't directly involve him.

"Surrogacy. She paid someone else to carry her kid."

"Amazing," Dieter says slapping the desk in delight. "That's what I'll do! Obviously I want them to have all my hot characteristics. But I need the ying to my yang so the kid's balanced ya know?"

You don't mention that this is dangerously close to playing with eugenics. Instead you just nod, reading your work phone and then typing in more info onto the tablet.

This is a Bravo phase. It'll pass.

He gets like this about projects that initially interest him, but sooner or later he'll be pulled back into the lure of partying and drugs and easy men and women to warm his bed.

Dieter is watching you, studying you as you work. You've been his assistant for a year and you're good at what you do, despite your personality clashes. He drums his fingers on the desk, eyes narrowing on you.

"I need someone educated."

"Mhmmm." You're really only half listening at this point.

"Where did you go to school again?"

"Stanford."

Dieter nods, bringing a knee to his chest and balancing against it. He reminds you of a bored child.

"Right, that's what I thought," Dieter nods, watching you type quickly away on the keyboard.

You're very good at your job, very organized, very sharp. When he arrives at galas you're always there at his elbow to remind him of everyone's name in a whisper. You've never let him down.

You're good looking, even if you try to hide it under ugly clothes and hair you don't give a second thought to. He tilts back, trying to imagine you pregnant. Would your tits get bigger? The thought is very enticing.

"Cancer or heart disease run in your family?"

This draws your attention up from your phone which you now lower to the table and fix him with a dark look.

"If you're suggesting what I think you are, you can stop right there."

"Why?" Dieter asks, eyes wide and pleading. "Our baby would be perfect! My looks, your brains!"

"Or your brains and my looks," you scoff, although you don't think you're that bad looking. "Besides, I have no interest in having children."

Especially with you.

You've never understood the appeal of children, especially babies. But if you were to be fooled into thinking that it was a wise venture the last person on the face of the planet you would do so with would be the man seated across from you.

"I'll pay you!"

You lower the cell phone to the desk, trying not to come off too judgmental. He is your boss after all and you need the work.

"You really think you're ready for fatherhood, Dieter?"

He looks affronted. "Of course I am."

"You think doing coke, partying and jetting off to different sets to film all over the world is really the best thing for a child?"

"Lots of actors have kids and-"

"You think a man who relies on his staff to keep him fed and his house clean could really understand the responsibility that comes along with raising a child?" You scoff. "Have you ever even changed a diaper?"

"I wasn't born into this life," Dieter says between clenched teeth. "I know how to make a fucking bed and change a diaper. I've changed diapers before. Remember that Mister Mom reboot I did?"

You do all you can not to burst out laughing at that. He's talking about the "parent boot camp" he and his co-star on the film had to go through in order to play parents convincingly. It included a two-day workshop on diaper changing, bottle feeding and basic child development.

Apparently it had been a little too convincing because after that movie his female co-star had claimed to have no interest in having children ever.

"You think a man who has to have a full time personal assistant and two publicists just to keep his image decent Is the kind of person who should be bringing a child into the world?" You scoff. "You think-"

"I get it!" Dieter erupts, throwing himself from his chair. "You think I'm a piece of shit that should never have children! Thanks. Message received."

You watch him stalk off, a pit in your stomach.

///

Another month rolls by, one marked by strain on your end. Ever since you're heavy chat with Dieter he's been a little colder to you, a little more withdrawn.

At least once a week before his outburst Dieter would insist you stay for dinner to run lines with him. He doesn't do that anymore. Before your fight he'd order your favorite meal from the Pad Thai place nearby and you'd spend a few hours going through the lines with him.

You liked having a front row seat to the Dieter Bravo show because he's a good actor. He likes red wine when he's running lines. He always offers you a glass and you always decline because it's unprofessional to drink on the job.

On those evenings you find it easier to chat with Dieter about life. Those evenings you don't have to worry about getting him to interviews or fetching him coffee.

He asks you about your friends and family and you tell him surface level things. He doesn't know about your mom's long hours and a mortgage you can barely afford. He doesn't need to know.

You never realized how much you enjoyed those nights until they stopped

///

You're in his town car driving with him to a Vanity Fair interview the following month. One where they hook him up to a lie detector. You're very thankful that you're not his publicist on days like this because you can only imagine what they'll be asking him and what his answers will be.

Today will be spent grabbing him coffees and making sure he doesn't pass out in the green room. For his last BuzzFeed interview he'd been so out of it you'd had to pretend he had a dental emergency and cancel at the last second.

"Okay so after this then you're meeting that French director about the Regency piece," you tell him as you check his schedule. It's packed full of things he needs to accomplish.

"Mhmmm."

Dieter has his sunglasses on despite it being overcast today in LA. He's got his black crocs on underneath striped socks and he taps them gently as he stares out the window at the passing LA landscape.

"And then we need to go for your tux fitting for the-"

"I know you think it's a terrible idea," Dieter interrupts sullenly. "But I found someone to have my baby."

You pause what you were about to say, glancing over to him in interest. He's staring at you, sunglasses tipped down his nose so he can fix you with an intense stare.

"She's a model," he tells you like a petulant child. "Stunning. My child will be beautiful."

"Congratulations," you say after a beat. Dieter gives a scoff.

"That's all you have to say?"

"Do you want me to organize a flash mob?" You say with a curl of your lip. "I hope she signed an NDA."

"Of course she did," Dieter sneers. "And since I'm paying her $75,000 for it she won't say a damn thing."

"Well then, good luck," you say with as much enthusiasm as you can muster. "I hope you and your future child are very happy."

"We will be. I'm going to love that kid to death," he tells you ardently. "My kid is never going to go without."

You can see Dieter narrow his eyes before pushing his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. He leans back in his seat, looking sour.

Despite everything you feel a stab of regret go through you. There are plenty of worse people in the world that have children. Because yes, Dieter is immature and yes he has his vices, but you've seen him with his young fans. He's a natural, more at ease with them than the adults who try to get too close for photos.

"I'm genuinely happy for you," you tell him. "Your child will be very lucky to have a father that loves them so much."

It never takes much to thaw the ice from Dieter Bravo. He likes being liked too much. He flashes you his megawatt smile that you return before turning back to his schedule.

"Alright so, after the tux fitting..."

///

You give a sigh, shrugging off your jacket and padding to your kitchen later that evening. Your mom is there, sipping her nightly tea. She looks more tired than you, despite you working a fifteen hour day.

She gives your forehead a kiss, telling you there's leftovers waiting for you in the fridge before brushing the hair from your eyes.

"You're home late."

"Busy day," you yawn, grabbing dinner leftovers from the fridge and nuking them in the microwave. "He had a bunch of meetings, fittings, had to run through his script a few times."

You sit down with your dinner, taking a forkful and eating quickly. You're exhausted and tomorrow will be much of the same. It's always like this around award season.

"Shocked he didn't get you to read him a bedtime story too," your mother scowls. She's never hidden her disdain for Dieter.

You smile, thinking that if Dieter knew a bedtime story was an option he would probably take it. You know he hates being alone.

The ping from your phone draws your attention. You have an alert set to Dieter’s name, just in case you and Diane need to work overtime on a Bravo-related catastrophe. But when you click on the link it goes to a Reddit thread from the Dieter Bravo subreddit. You glance and see its just one of the run-of-the-mill tabloid photos.

Every so often you're caught in them, listed as "Bravo employee". The first time it had happened you'd been mortified by the unflattering photo of you reading out Dieters schedule as he smoked a cigarette, looking off into the distance.

In these photos today much like the others you're on your phone mid-sentence. Dieter is smiling at you, hand holding his coffee by the top. It's fairly innocuous as far as photos go but the comments are anything but.

Do u think he's hooking up with his PA? Look at these photos.

It's called a job people! She has to be with him all the time.

He looks so fucking hot

Gross no.

I think he's hooking up with Luke Evans??

I will now be identifying as a coffee cup

She's literally looking at her phone. How is this anything?

It's giving secret romance look at their body language

Omg his hands are so big.

I bet he's crazy in bed.

They've totally hooked up

He's so into her look at how he's looking at her!

You roll your eyes and try not to laugh out loud. Your mother glances over at you and shakes her head.

"When are you going to quit working for that loser and go back to school?"

Your mom doesn't really understand why you quit school. She would feel like a burden if she did. But every month you pay off more and more of her mortgage, the better and freer you feel. It’ll be a few years more, but you can manage.

"Soon," you tell your mother with a small smile. “Soon.”

///

"Fuck I hate these things," Dieter says in the back of a limo a few weeks later. You're all headed to a film and theatre awards show.

"Since when?"

"Since I have to present an award and I'm sober."

“You are?”

This surprises you. Rarely has Dieter Bravo ever been sober during awards season. Even the year he won his Oscar he'd been flying high before his name was even engraved on the statuette.

You go to grab your second phone, wanting to check something about scheduling when you realize your purse is back at Dieters. Fuck. You'll have to stop there on your way back tonight.

"You look nice," he tells you offhandedly as he tugs at his bow tie. He usually sees you in jeans and a t-shirt. Tonight your hair is sleek, your makeup glamorous and your dress feminine and lacy.

"Yeah well I heard Robert Pattinson will be there tonight," you say with a small smile. "Gonna shoot my shot."

Dieter rolls his eyes dramatically at this before his publicist Diane draws his attention to some talking points.

"You need to return the watch before you hit up the after parties," she says, motioning to his wrist where he wears a diamond encrusted timepiece from Cartier.

"Aye aye captain."

When the limo pulls up to the red carpet surrounded on both sides by groups of screaming fans you see Dieter swallow.

He loves a lot about acting, but this? The rabid fans, the constant screaming of his name? It stresses him out. He's told you this many times before.

Despite your irritation with Dieter most days, there is a part of you that genuinely enjoys his company. He's creative and funny and blunt in a way that you appreciate.

"You've got this Bravo," you tell him, squeezing his hand reassuringly before pulling back. He smiles at you, slipping on his sunglasses and taking a deep breath.

You and Diane exit out the left side doors as Dieter exits out the right onto the red carpet. Screams at ear -splitting volumes begin the second his boot hits the carpet.

"I LOVE YOU DIETER!'

"OMG ITS HIM!"

"He's so hot!"

"Do you think he's gonna do something weird?"

"DIETER SIGN MY BOOBS!"

Dieter waves and smiles, ignoring the more bizarre requests. His publicist warned him if he is serious about having a kid he needs to work on his image. You wonder how long this will last.

"Dieter Bravo have my baby!" One woman of about fifty shouts holding a hand towards him in desperation. Dieter waves at her and she looks as if she might faint.

"There you go," you whisper to his back as he moves to the next photographer. "If the model doesn't work out at least you have options."

He smirks at you before going to pose for the litany of flash bulbs and photographers.

Inside the auditorium you and Diane guide Dieter behind the stage. He's paired up to present with an up and coming actress who makes moon eyes up at him. Her name is Mia Rowe and she's as gorgeous in real life as she is talented.

"Hi Mr. Bravo," she says batting her eyes up at him.

"Hi beautiful," Dieter purrs. You hold in an eye roll, sure to take note of this woman. Odds are you'll be calling her a cab from Dieter's place later this evening.

"Bravo! I was hoping you'd be here!"

A tall blonde man with perfect teeth walks over, dressed in a form fitting tux. It makes Dieters bright pink checkered tux look cartoonish, but that's kinda what you liked about it.

Corey Brigham, the UK's answer to what would happen if you created the most handsome yet unlike-able person on the planet. He and Dieter go way back, both big in the party and drug scene.

"Was hoping you'd be here," Corey says with a wink, tapping his breast pocket. "I was just heading to the bathroom if you'd care to join."

"I'm not uh, doing that tonight," Dieter says to his friend. "Just sticking to booze."

You overhear this, surprised. You wonder if this is to do with his desire for fatherhood. If so you're a little impressed. Mia looks up at Dieter with a curious expression. As if she's impressed as well, or perhaps that she's surprised Dieter isn't what she expected.

The alcohol is flowing backstage and since you're a lightweight it takes very little to have you giggling behind your hand.

You never drink at these things, but once Dieter is done presenting your off for the night. You can enjoy yourself a little bit, especially when the booze is high end and free.

When Dieter presents the award with Mia you're very proud to see him sticking to his lines and being professional.

"Fuck, I have to go," Diane announces to you midway through the show, clutching her cellphone. "My kids in the hospital, the nanny just texted."

"Oh my gosh," your hand goes to hers. "Is everything okay?"

"He's had an allergic reaction," Diane says, her eyes wet. "I'm supposed to make sure Dieter returns the watch-"

"Go!" You insist, pushing her gently. "I'll make sure he returns it."

"I couldn't-"

"Go!"

Diane shoots you a grateful smile before tucking herself when you to her purse and making a mad dash for the exit. You watch from behind the curtain as the awards ceremony starts.

You decline further drinks after the midpoint, but you're still more than a little tipsy when you walk over to wrangle Dieter at the end of the show. He usually loves to hit up the after parties and you need to make sure he returns the Cartier watch before he goes.

You tap him on his broad shoulder, interrupting what seems to be a very intense (flirtatious) conversation with a redhead with the best pair of fake tits you've ever seen.

He turns irritated at first but his face quickly blooms into amusement as you stare up at him wavering slightly on your feet.

"Well, well, well," Dieter says smugly. "Miss Professional is drunk."

"I am not!" You insist, trying as hard as you can to keep the slur from your voice. "I'm just... I just had a little."

"You're slurring."

"Am not."

"Sure," Dieter laughs. "I bet you can't even walk in a straight line."

You immediately put one foot in front of the other, making a straight line from one side of the hallway floor to the other. You shoot him a victorious smile as he claps.

"My mistake," he drawls. "You’re obviously sober. I must have just overlooked that you always walk around with your eyes half open."

The redhead, irritated at being ignored gives a small sigh through her nose before bidding Dieter a sharp goodbye. You watch her walk off and grimace.

"Well you just cost me a date for the after party," Dieter laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulders and walking towards the entrance where photographers have gathered.

"Don't do that," you grumble. "Someone'll take a photo and get the wrong idea."

Dieter straightens immediately, but the amusement is still there in his features.

"So I guess you're gonna have to be my date," he teases, knowing full well how much you hate parties and that you'd never be invited in.

"Yeah right," you sneer. "I'd rather slide down a banister of razors into a pool of lemon juice."

"Guess I'll just have to find someone to keep me company then," Dieter says before winking at you. "I'll be at the Chateau Marmont if you change your mind."

He's out the door and in his limo before you remember why you needed to talk to him.

The fucking watch!

Cartier will have a fit if it's not returned this evening and Diane will be so disappointed in you on top of a very stressful night for her.

You have to run about three blocks in your heels to find a taxi to drive you. Traffic is majorly backed up thanks to the award ceremony and it takes you over an hour to get to Chateau Marmont.

At first the front desk won't let you past the entryway even when you tell them who you work for. You collapse onto a chair and try in vain to call Dieter. Not shockingly he doesn't pick up.

It's not until Mia Rowe arrives amidst screaming paparazzi and sees you near tears that she takes your hand and cites that you're with her. You thank her profusely and make a mental note to see every one of her movies in theaters for the rest of your life.

She's walks with you into the bustling party before releasing your hand and wishing you good luck. It doesn't take long to find Dieter in the crowd, you simply have to go to where there's the most noise.

He's in the middle of the group regaling them with one of his stories about the horrors of filming cliff beasts 5. He's got his arm around a young, very good looking Latin man you think is a singer. You watch as Dieter breaks off from what he was saying to kiss the young man thoroughly, tongues dueling as the music pulse around you.

Shit that's hot.

You don’t often see Dieter in the throes of passion but you’ve walked in on Dieter with his fair share of men and women waking up after a rowdy party or two. Seeing him here though with the club music like a heartbeat in your abdomen and his full mouth pressed to the handsome man’s makes you feel… something.

The two break apart and Dieter is about to say something more to the group when his eyes land on you.

"You made it!" Dieter slurs happily when you make your way towards him. "Take a shot!"

The crowd around him cheers as he produces a shot glass for you. Everyone is either coked out of their minds or massively drunk. It makes you jealous that your job has no glamour whatsoever.

"Here! Take a shot!" Dieter insists. "It's called the Bravo because uh... I forgot. But it’s good!"

You stumble over to him, not wanting to draw too much attention to the million dollar piece he's currently wearing on his wrist. Your mouth goes to his earlobe, lower lip catching the cool metal of his earring and the young man at his left shoots daggers at you.

"Dieter no, I need to return the-"

"The watch, I know," Dieter says with a smirk, his whisky tainted breath huffing along your cheeks. "I knew you'd have to come here to get it."

That asshole.

"You think I have nothing better to do than chase you all over this fucking city?" you shout, barely heard over the thrumming music.

Dieter just looks down at you amused and drunk. "Oh loosen up. I'll give you the watch."

"Good." You hold out your hand which he promptly places a shot glass into.

"As soon as you have a drink with me."

"I can't-"

You want to deny him this, to just get the watch and go to Cartier. But you're still tipsy and you're at a Hollywood after party and wait-

"Is that Robert Pattinson?" You croak pointing to a handsome figure entering the room. Dieter squints over before nodding and smiling crookedly.

"Twilight himself."

Holy shit.

"Okay," you say, smoothing your hair back. "One drink."

///

You're both absolutely obliterated by the time you head to Dieters limo and you're not sure who is worse.

You think you must be decently in control of your faculties because at least you remember to tell the limo to stop at Cartier where a very angry employee is waiting.

"So sorry," you slur at him as you pass him the watch in its box over the counter sheepishly. He makes you sign something before you clamor back into the limo next to Dieter who is drinking straight out of a whisky bottle.

He offers you the bottle and you take a sip. Just to be polite.

Then another sip to be extra polite.

"Robert Pattinson was so nice," you tell Dieter for the third time since you left the party. "And so handsome."

"He's not that handsome," Dieter says, sounding like he's underwater. "Where d'you live?"

"Over there," you say pointing in the general direction of your house. Dieter nods, telling the impossibly patient driver to go left.

"Wait my keys are at your house," you slur, eyes only half open. "How m'I gonna get in my house?"

"You need your keys," Dieter says loudly. "Less'go! My house!"

You're both barely able to walk when you come back to Dieter's place, dropped off by his limo. Like two chums you wrap your arms around each other's shoulders and trudge up his steps.

He drops his keys twice before opening the door with a groan.

"I hate wearing this stuff," he complains, pulling at the bow tie. You want to tell him that he looks nice but your mouth doesn't seem to be keeping up with your brain.

Dieter pulls off his bowtie, letting it drop to the floor. You do the same with your shoes, hating how they feel after hours on end.

"Want a drink?"

"Yes!"

"Me too!"

You both look at each other, waiting for the other person to pour the drink before collapsing into giggles. When you finally stop Dieter trips over to his bar and pours two shots of expensive vodka, spilling all over the bar top. You clink glasses and throw the shots back.

In habit Dieter turns the sprawling television on. The first thing that pops up is the discovery Channel and a documentary on giraffes. You both make a cooing sound when the camera pans to an unsteady baby giraffe just starting to walk.

"Awww I love baby animals," you say feeling oddly emotional at the tiny creature.

"I want one so bad," Dieter hiccups beside you.

"A giraffe?"

"No a baby-baby," Dieter pouts. "Want to give it everything I didn't have as a kid."

You've never really understood why Dieter wanted a baby until recently and in this moment you find his reasoning to be impossibly sweet.

"That's so nice!" You enthuse, finding it hard not to shout. The liquor is soaring through your veins. "You're so nice!"

Dieter smiles crookedly at you. "You think so?"

"Yeah!"

"Then why are you so mad at me all the time?" Dieter sways on his feet. "I'm so nice to you."

"You are not," you say plainly. "You're obnoxious. You do drugs so often you forget you have obligations. So then I have to babysit you so you don't get sued. You make my job stressful!"

"Oh."

Dieters head pitches forward and you can see that his eyes are closed. You've hurt him. That makes your drunken brain panic.

"But you're also really nice," you slur, gripping him by the forearm and shaking. "'Member you got me that really nice painting for my birthday?"

Dieter nods. The painting in question is of a beautiful woman overlooking the sea from behind, her stance filled with determination and her hair drifting in the breeze. It's as beautiful as it is vibrant and you'd been shocked when it arrived on your doorstep the morning of your birthday. Diane had mailed it, you recognized her handwriting.

Your mom had been amazed at it when you brought it in and opened it, citing that you needed to hang it somewhere you could look at it all day. So you had, hanging it on the wall opposite your bed. It's the first and last thing you look at every day. The woman in the portrait

"That was so nice!" You pause as your fuzzy brain tries to recall. "Did I ever thank you for that?"

"You gave me a thank you card and then told me to get ready for my BuzzFeed interview," Dieter shrugs, but that's your answer right there. He pours you both another shot of vodka which you both drink quickly.

"I have it hung up in my house," you tell him honestly. "It's in my room. I look at it every day. It's so beautiful. And nice of you!"

Nice is the only adjective that your addled brain can come up with tonight. Dieter smiles at you, a sweet little smile that has you smiling back at him. But then his handsome face crumples.

"If I'm so nice why does no one want to make a baby with me? Why do I have to pay that model?"

"I dunno," you answer honestly because right now in your drunken haze you don't really get why Dieter is single. He's handsome, rich and talented. Sure he likes cocaine and partying but there are worse things, surely!

"I know why," he says in a sad rasp. "S'cuz I'm unlovable."

"That's not true," you interject with a gasp before throwing your arms around his neck. "You're wonderful!"

You've never embraced Dieter before in all the time you've worked for him. The most you've ever done is gripped his hand in yours as you guided him through a bustling club to get to an interview he was late for or squeezed his hand like in the limo.

He's warm and he smells really good like expensive cologne. He'd dressed up well for the party tonight and you can't help but nuzzle your nose into his neck. You're both so drunk you lean against each other, not noticing when Dieter's nose glides along your neck as well.

"I think it's true," he whispers softly.

You feel impossibly sad for your boss because Dieter is so nice! The painting! You wish you'd been kinder to him. Wish you'd thanked him properly.

But wait, maybe you can?

"Dieter! I'll make a baby with you!"

You can hear Dieter's heartbeat pickup under your ear pressed against his chest.

"Really?" Dieter says, swaying. "That's what I was trying to ask before but you were so mad remember? You're always so mad at me!"

"I wasn't!" You reply sulkily, pulling back from him. You don't like being told that. You cross your arms, irritably.

"Yeah you get this lil' line between your brows when you get mad at me," Dieter says, clumsily pulling off his jacket and dropping it on the ground. "It's so cute and oh- yeah just like that!"

He's pointing at your frowning face.

"I wasn't mad," you insist, feeling the need to defend yourself. "I was just..."

You trail off as Dieter grabs you by the hips and pulls them to his. He looks down at you through his thick lashes.

"You're really pretty," he tells you through a whisky-laced hiccup. "I always thought so but I couldn't tell you."

"How come?"

"You're intimidating."

You giggle because you've never seen his face this close up and his mouth is so pouty. His eyelashes are so long you've never noticed.

"You're pretty too."

He kisses you then, his full mouth warm against yours. You kiss him back, making little whimpers when he licks into your welcome mouth.

"You kiss good!" You tell him in shock when you eventually pull back.

He smiles broadly, proud of himself. You can see the dimple in his cheek poke out. You decide that this is as good a time as any to get started. Your hands go to his belt.

"Let's make the baby now."

"Okay."

///

When you wake up the next morning hung-over and still dressed in Dieter Bravo's bed you don't automatically assume the worst. His arms are around you and he's snoring against your neck and if you weren't feeling so wretched you might have enjoyed how his warm body felt wrapped around yours.

It's not until you pad to the bathroom and begin to retch in his fancy toilet that you realize your panties are gone.

Having heard the noise Dieter stumbles into the bathroom, shocked to see his normally composed assistant kneeling over his porcelain toilet.

He leaves a few moments as you continue emptying your stomachs of its contents. When he returns he's holding two cups of what look like a disgusting green concoction. You take one from him, leaning against the counter.

"Do you remember anything?"

"Uh, I remember dropping the watch at Cartier," you say before dropping your mouth under the sink to swish some water into your dry mouth before spitting. "I remember we came here to get my keys I think? That's when it all gets blurry."

"Did we see giraffes?" Dieter asks, blinking through puffy eyes. "I feel like I remember giraffes."

You groan at your aching head before you remember your missing underwear. You glance to see Dieter is wearing his ratty green bathrobe cinched at the waist and from what you can see nothing underneath. His bulge is prominent under his bathrobe, you can't help but notice.

Dieter is staring at you, looking concerned.

"Last night... Did we?" He makes a circle with his thumb and pointer finger before making thrusting motions into it with his free forefinger.

"I...I don't remember," you croak, eyes blinking against the light streaming in from his bathroom window. You sip the green drink slowly, surprised that it doesn't taste as disgusting as it looks.

"Me neither."

"I need a Plan B just in case," you murmur, splashing cold water on your face. "You have a lot of guests stay the night... Any chance you have a box lying around?"

When he doesn't answer right away you glance over your shoulder to see Dieter has a funny look on his face. He's staring at you, blinking.

"What?"

"What if you are pregnant?" He asks quietly. "Would you consider keeping it?"

You laugh out loud. "Of course not!"

"Not even if I paid you?" Dieter asks, his voice hinting at desperation. "I'll pay you double - no, triple what I was going to pay the model surrogate."

You're about to loudly deny this request when you remember what he was offering that model: $75,000. Triple that is over $200,000. Yeah your life will be hell for nine months but then you'll be able to start a new one debt free. Your mom will be able to retire. You'll be able to go back to school.

And it's not like you ever wanted kids in the first place so you wouldn't even get attached. All that money for an inconvenience. A blip.

You can see the hunger in Dieter's eyes, the desperation, the deep need.

He does feel an aching need for this. Because drugs are awesome, making movies is fun, the money is amazing but with no one to share it with he feels lost. It feels pointless. He's fucked his way through the Hollywood elite: men and women alike. It's boring.

He tried making a real go of it with Annika but he'd fumbled it poorly and now she hated him and moved on. She was with her old co-worker and she was happy.

In truth Dieter is terrified that he cannot make another person happy. But a miniature version of himself? He could do that.

"Three hundred thousand," you say, not thinking he'll accept it.

"Deal."

Fuck why didn't I go higher?

Dieter sees you thinking, his mouth hitching into an excited grin. "So it's yes?"

"IF I agreed to the higher price point you'd be willing to honor the agreement if I got pregnant?" You venture. "The same one you were giving to that model? The one about covering all medical expenses and taking over sole custody and all that?"

"Yes."

"And I'd get the money when?"

"As soon as the baby is born. Just like the contract states."

"And the baby would never know I was its mother?"

"Never."

You pause, blinking rapidly. This all sounds too good to be true. And in all honesty, if Dieter takes this baby and forgets it on a park bench, that's none of your business or your responsibility. As far as you're concerned, this baby is a job. A very well-paying job.

"Okay fine," you say with a shaking breath. "I'll have your baby, Bravo."

///

You can't be pregnant from one night of drunken sex you both can't remember, right? Surely not. People try months if not years to get pregnant. Just look at Becky! Plus, you're not even sure you even had sex! Sure you'd woken up feeling a bit weird, but that could have been because you were waking up next to your boss.

You're thankful your mom works erratic hours at the hospital and didn't notice your late arrival this morning. You spend most of that day pacing around your house, doing laundry but mostly just feeling fuzzy. Not hung-over fuzzy (although that's part of it). It's an overwhelmed fuzzy that makes your head feel like cotton.

Your day feels impossibly long and short all at once. You want it to hurry up so you can go to bed but at the same time you want it to stretch ad finitum because you dread seeing Dieter tomorrow.

You'd left in such a rush that morning, not taking him up on his offer of breakfast. You needed to get away from him and that bed and that house. Needed to think about your next steps.

When you mom arrives home later that night you've made dinner that you both eat in front of the TV. Your mom chooses some bad hallmark romance movie that makes you want to throw a brick through the screen.

As you sit there bored your mind can't help but begin drifting back to Dieter and that night. You wonder what the sex was like if you actually did it. Was he tender? No, you think he'd be like a jackhammer. Despite his reputation for marathon sessions you think they Dieter would be a selfish lover.

"Mom what was it like being pregnant with me?"

Your mom raises her head curiously from her palm braced against the couch arm.

"Why do you ask honey?"

"I dunno, I guess after Becky did that whole surrogate thing it made me wonder why people go through it," you lie. "It seems like so much effort for so little pay off."

"You think you were little pay off?" You mom asks with a sleepy smile. "I disagree."

"I think kids are really hard," you smile back. "And I don't really get it."

"Well you've said you're not having kids so I don't think you need to worry about it," your mom says kindly.

You know as an only child there's a lot of pressure on you to have kids. You know your mom is aching to be a grandparent, especially after your dad's death.

But she's never pressured you. When you told her you had no intention of having kids even if you found the greatest spouse she had simply hugged you and said she respected your choice.

But you don't miss how she eagerly listens to stories about Becky's babies or asks to see photos. You don't miss how her eyes linger in the baby section at Wal-Mart. You don't miss the way she smiles at the trick or treat-ers that crowd your doorway on Halloween.

"I felt wonderful being pregnant," she says suddenly. "Loved every second. Felt like a fertile goddess."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

A ping sounds on your phone and a headline from a tabloid catches your eyes as you swipe up.

Dieter Bravo signs on for period piece alongside Hollywood darling Mia Rowe.

"Oh good he booked it," you murmur to yourself. He'd been beside himself working on his British accent, desperate to land this role that would take him from goofy villain to serious, romantic leading man.

"What was that honey?" Your mom asks, now slumped over sleepily on the couch.

"Just Dieter stuff," you explain. "I have an alert set to his name."

She grunts a reply before turning back to the television.

You read the rest of the article delighted that his co-star is Mia Rowe. That's amazing news! You love her! You only hope he can keep it in his pants long enough to keep production from falling apart. You can't help but smile as you send him a text.

[10:44pm] Congrats! I just heard about the Regency drama. You must be so excited! 🎉

You rest your phone in your lap before second guessing and placing it on the couch arm next to you. You look at your stomach, amazed that you of all people could potentially be carrying life.

[10:44pm] D: I am thank u. Do u feel pregnant?

You roll your eyes so hard you're convinced you can see your brain. Is he fucking serious? Does he really not have any clue about how pregnancy works? Is he not aware that Google is free?

[10:45pm] I won't know for weeks.

[10:45pm] D: I thought women knew early?? That's what Magda says.

Magda is his ancient housekeeper. A woman who has worked for Dieter since he hit it big. She does a terrible job keeping his house tidy but there's no way he'll ever fire her.

You turn your phone off irritated. You'd been trying to be kind and supportive and he managed to overlook it entirely.

You watch your mother fall asleep on the couch, her head tilted in her hand. And for a fleeting moment you do hope that you're pregnant. You want to give this woman everything.

$300,000 would change both of your lives and it seems insane that Dieter won't even miss that amount from his bank account. It'll be a drop in the ocean for him. It makes you feel prickly and resentful by the time his next text message comes through.

[11:02pm] D: Are ur breasts tender?

[11:02pm] Fuck off.

///

Living in the fantasy of having all that money had been fun. But a large part of you hadn't really believed that you'd be pregnant.

So when the two pink lines show up on the pregnancy test that Dieter has bought you three weeks later, you shake your head and take another one.

"Well?"

Dieters muffled voice calls to you through the bathroom door. He's been sitting outside the door leaning against it for the last ten minutes.

"Gimme a second!" You bark out over your shoulder.

You take another test.

And another one.

Pregnant.

Yep. You're fucking pregnant.

You are carrying Dieter Bravo's child in you at this very second.

You pull up your t-shirt, standing and looking in the mirrors reflection. Your stomach looks exactly the same. Nothing has changed.

And yet everything has changed.

Dieter is waiting for you outside his office bathroom pacing back and forth. When he sees your wide eyes his own go owlish in his face.

You swallow before thrusting the three tests into his hands. He looks at all three, delight blooming over his face.

He falls to his knees, raising his hands in victory over his head before bellowing.

"We're having a fucking baby!"

///

After a multitude of tests by Dieter's private doctor the next week, the confirmation comes through.

You're six weeks along.

Dieter jumps on the couch, shouting excitedly as the news is announced. You simply sit stiffly in your chair as the doctor smiles at you and offers you congratulations.

"It's still early," he warns you both and that causes Dieter to stop jumping on furniture.

There's a lot of paperwork to go over that following week. Dieter has brought in his lawyer and on top of the additional NDA there's also a mountain of certain clauses, exceptions etc. Dieter offers to pay for a lawyer for you but you deny him.

You take the paperwork to a cheap lawyer in town who gives it back a week later citing that "it's thorough but fair."

No one besides you, Dieter, his manager Mark and his publicist Diane can know. Diane is handling the roll out of the birth nine months from now, laying the groundwork for a successful launch.

She talks about your future child like a product or commodity. It makes both you and Dieter wince.

"No hard drugs Dieter, I'm serious," Diane warns him over coffee in his living room. She's got a checklist to go through with him and you.

"I've been off 'em for weeks," he assures her. "Just stickin' to weed."

"No big parties, no orgies," she says checking notes off her phone. "No ridiculous ranting on the red carpet."

"Fine." Dieter nods although you can see that he's going to miss those. He's always enjoyed the attention that goes along with a good party... Or a good orgy... Or rant.

"And you," Diane says turning to face you seated beside Dieter in his living room. "Obviously you signed an NDA so if people ask, you got pregnant from a one night stand and due to religious reasons you're keeping the pregnancy and giving the kid up for adoption."

Partially accurate.

"Won't it look kinda suspicious for his PA to be pregnant and then him suddenly have a baby?" you ask, suddenly concerned.

"You won't be his PA after this conversation," Diane informs you. "It would be a massive conflict of interest."

You feel your heart lurch. "Wait, I'm fired?"

"Not at all," Diane explains patiently. "You're on paid leave. You'll be given your weekly paychecks as usual."

The thought of nine months stuck at home for your mother to fret over (or worse once she finds out the dad is Dieter) makes you wince. Dieter squirms in his seat next to you, scratching absently at his ankle. A trait he does when he's agitated.

You've been his PA the longest he's ever maintained one. Usually he sleeps with them or burdens them into quitting. He feels safe with you, you're good at your job and you make him feel stable. Plus you’re carrying his fucking child. He doesn’t want you gone.

"No," Dieter finally insists, his voice strong. "I need her. I'm going to film in Ireland and I need her with me."

"Dieter-"

"She can wear baggy clothes when she starts to show," he reasons. "And when she gets too big she can do office work."

"Dieter-"

"No negotiating," Dieter insists. "I want her to work for me as long as she wants to." He turns to you at this point, brow raised. "Only if you do."

You smile brightly at him. "I do."

"So do I."

"Great," Diane says rolling her eyes. "I now pronounce you both totally fucked."

///

When you finally hand your completed contract over to Dieter and his lawyers that following week his smile is so wide you think that his face will split.

Immediately his broad hand goes to rest against your belly, eyes wide with anticipation.

"Hello little thing, I'm your daddy," he tells your stomach.

"Okay rule one," you tell him, pushing him off of you with a look of disgust. "No touching me without permission. I am not going to be one of those pregnant women that let strangers touch her belly."

"We're not strangers," Dieter pouts.

"Besides all your touching right now is my stomach fat," you say flatly. "The baby is the size of a poppy seed."

Dieter looks amazed. "How do you know that?"

You show him the app you've downloaded to your phone to track everything from fetal development to dietary suggestions. It's called BabiEDucate.

"You can make an account too," you tell him. "Parents can link up and access the same files."

Dieter is already downloading it before the sentence leaves your mouth. Parents. He's going to be a parent. He's going to be a dad! He's fucking giddy.

"I'll make sure I update it with everything," you promise. "Photos, cravings. It'll keep you involved even when you're working."

"Oh right," Dieter says, deflating. In all his excitement he'd forgotten the film. Several months of filming a period piece over in Ireland. "You're still coming right?"

"I'm still your PA aren't I?" you say bringing out the schedule. Ireland is only a few weeks away and you wonder if you'll be showing.

The nice thing about being a nobody in the world of celebrity is that no one will think it's strange if you suddenly start to show. You're Dieter's PA, not his friend or co-star. Your pregnancy won't be fodder for tabloid headlines or the rumor mill.

"When we're in public I'm still your employee," you remind him. "So no talking to my stomach or talking about the pregnancy."

Dieter looks thoughtful before snapping his fingers, inspired.

"We'll have a code word! How about... Broccoli."

"No."

"Lube?"

"Dieter-"

"Bubble? that's even a fun word to say!"

"Fine," you say with an eye roll. "Bubble it is."

///

By the end of your second month you feel like absolute shit. Morning sickness has hit you bad. Your mom is usually out of the house before you in the mornings but she catches you hovering over the toilet one morning and you have to pass it off as food poisoning.

You're thankful that filming will take you over to Ireland for a few months. That's a few months that you can put off telling her that you're carrying your boss's child.

Dieter has been as annoying as he is helpful in that regard. When you're with him at his place or driving to an event he's his usual self. Well, except all he wants to do is talk about the baby. But at least he does his job and can be redirected.

When you're not with him though? It's another story.

[2:06pm] D: you didn't upload to the app today. 🍼🍼🍼

[2:07pm] Too busy puking.

[2:07pm] D: I saw an article that says ginger tea helps.

[2:08pm] 👍

When you come out of the bathroom wiping at your washed mouth an hour later you're surprised to hear knocking.

You open it to find Dieter standing at your door with a cardboard box.

"What are you doing here?" You ask, eyes blown wide. "It's my day off and you're supposed to be at a promo photoshoot for-."

"I know," Dieter interrupts before placing the package into your arms. You glance inside to see heaps of ginger products: tea, honey, biscuits, candies.

"What’s all this?"

"For your morning sickness," he says glancing down at your stomach as if he's expecting you to have magically popped since he saw you yesterday. He's disappointed that you still look the same.

He gives you a quick smile and wave as he heads back down your driveway towards the waiting cab.

"Don't forget to update the app!'

#dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo #dieter x reader #pedro pascal dieter #The Bubble #pedro pascal smut #Pedro Pascal #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #eventual smut #romance #love #pregnancy

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yaomomvs · 3 years

Text

SEIJOH MANANGER HEADCANONS

seijoh, aoba johsai x reader | slight oikawa, iwaizumi and kunimi x reader.

a/n: ugh! i just love my seijoh boys so much! and so, i decided to make one more headcanons for them, tysm! hopefully i’ll do inarizaki next or maybe karasuno.

a bit long but i just love them,and i will do a part two mainly focusing on while they do volleyball this is more of random things

other seijoh!manager works: one | two

the volume in this bus is ASTRONOMICAL

you actually never thought of joining a club, specially a sports one.

but you needed it, so while looking at the board of the school’s options you were unsure.

“i just really need something not that complicated, and that helps me helping others” you muttered to yourself

little did you know the coach of the volleyball team was there, this nice man turned to you and offered you a place in the team.

“but please if you are one of oikawa’s fangirls dont-” “who now?” you genuinely asked. seeing that you didn’t had a clue of who he was talking about he immediately handed the application for to you.

it was first day and you were already late, but you managed to enter the gym half way practice.

you guys remember that tanaka and kiyoko scene in s4? well it was the same

“sorry for being late coach!” your voice sounded all over the place since someone was serving and it was pretty quiet.

ALL OF THEM WERE SHOCKED LIKE 🧍🏻‍♀️

the serve even hit yahaba’s face because everyone got distracted by your beauty

“i- did i do something?” “existing omg”

the coach lined up everyone and they greeted you welcoming you to the team.

you were flustered because it was like you never had a lot of guys around you and now you had to take care of all of them and also

aoba johsai’s team had one of the most attractive boys around likeeee

now, a year later, the energy is purely chaotic.

and i mean like

kindaichi and kunimi are lowkey the ones who respect you the most

not only because you, even if it was for only a year, you were their upperclassman but also you had presence

when karasuno came to the practice andy oh catched both of them after talking to kageyama in the bathroom, you pinched their ears and scolded them

“you both do that again and i’m not being compassionate” “SORRY Y/N”

but also lowkey your admirers

kunimi literally only showed strong emotions around you

“i brought you some sweets” he regularly says

“oh you are great! thank you kunimi!”you appreciated this guys little details with you

“so you have a favoritism with our manager huh?”

“y/n permission to hit kindaichi”

“permission conceded”

kindaichi also respected you because you, when he entered seijoh months ago, were one of the ones who made him believe and helped getting over that anger he had with his ex teammates and you even assured that kageyama was the reason he got better, even if he wouldn’t accept it

the second years, your literal followers

like seriously yahaba watori were always around you.

being in the same grade and class as both dod not helped a lot.

they are like puppies with anxiety separation

because you are the reason they feel loved and cared for

they always sit next to you in class, and they make sure you are comfortable with it.

you need help with hw? watori always is there

yahaba lets you paint his nails every time you got bored in class

you were such a powerful trio

they always bring your favorite drink in the mornin

you even developed this sixth sense where if you just look at each other you know exactly who are you making fun of without even speaking

you always make fun of the shit way of yahaba to flirt oml

and you even advice him on what should he do or not when meeting someone new.

istg if it was not bc of you he would have never got his first date with his crush

kyoutani later joined you, but he had trouble on trusting you

but seeing all the team laying on you he actually let himself rely on another person for the first time

he was the one who scared those stupid volleyball boys fan girls (oikawa’s or the other guys ones) away from you

he also thinks that you are not bad physically talking and he actually says it but privately

he also whenever he is mad or just frustrated comes to you and what he likes is that you don’t go in deep of the details but instead you try to distract him with random thing you say.

“guys i told you several times” you laughed “i do have other thing to do! it not like i can attend every night out with you! i have other friends too!”

“so, we are not watching cartoons tonight?”

“i hate you all so much” you surrendered “see you at 8 pm”

you became the second years core four

and also they looked up to you a lot, why? because you are the only people who always deals with the third years shit

god i think your connection with the third years was only a bit more noticeable than the second years

why? you were not afraid to mess up with them

to be real iwaizumi as oikawa caught your eye since moment one, they were naturally attractive and talented but you made a promise to not fall for anyone

omg you were so wrong

if it was iwaizumi, he always made sure you felt comfortable around

you were no vb genius so he took the time to explain you a bunch of things you did not know 🥺

also, he’s the kind of guy to stop everyone spiking because you were crossing through the gym so no ball gets you

he is the one who always search for you in school, asked about your day, and stuff that might seem basic but it was really meaningful

like he is the kind of guy who memorizes all your favorite places, treats, music anything and actually tries to get you to talk about it

oikawa on the other hand was the one who actually made you feel like part of them

he is so sweet!

oikawa only starts practice when you are there

like bold of someone to start hitting a ball without you there, he considered you part of the team, so he always waited for you

he walked you home or nearby every time he could he wanted you safe

his eyes always always instantly light up and screams “y/n-chan!” and immediately runs to you

but also he is the one who search you the most around

if it was lunch time he went to your home room and literally lunches with you no matter what or who

he never lets anyone lend you their hoodie, it always has to be his that you are wearing

he self crowned himself as your favorite

he hugs you out of nowhere istg is the best feeling ever

hanamaki also also also considers you priority

he is kinda more of the lowkey one, he is mainly the one who checks up on you

he once spotted a bruise in your arm and he immediately freaked out

“DO I HAVE TO FIGHT SOMEONE” “god no! i just dropped a huge book there!”

hanamaki is the one who waits for you in the entrance of the gym to walk with you to practice

he also is the first one to notice if something is wrong with you along with iwachan

they both unintentionally pay attention to you a lot and if you do something out of the common they just approach you

and they are always right

“what’s wrong y/n?” hanamaki says

“yeah, is everything okay you need anything?” iwaizumi continues.

“what do you mean guys? i’m okay” you obviously try to lie.

“no you are not, you are acting different”

“yea iwachan is right you always change yous t shirt before practice and the way you are ordering the volleyballs is off”

“why do know me so well” you indeed had a terrible day, so you almost tear up bb of that and be of how amazing your boys were to you sometimes”

“come here little one”

you heard a pout

“i see you oikawa, you can get a hug too. matsu come here”

matsukawa is your hype man

he loves messing with you like in the big brother sister way

like if a guy asked you out he’d be like “sis you can do so much better”

you are always being salty whether it’s between you or other ones

besides if you do have a crush on anyone on the team matsu is the only one to know

and he’d constantly blackmail you with that

“if you don’t buy me anything from the vending machine i will tell oikawa you actually swoon for him” “OKAY FINE”

“tell the coach that we do not need laps or iwaizumi is gonna knowwwww about” “i hate you so much”

but returning to the point you always messed with them specially the four third years

and you were so good at it

one day, you ‘innocently’ mentioned to the boys “i’m just telling you! i’ve never seen two pretty best friends, one of them always gotta be ugly”

GOD LORD THE BOMB YOU JUST ACTIVATED

THEY SPENT A WHOLE WEEK TRYING TO FUGURE OUT WHO WAS THE PRETTY BEST FRIEND BETWEEN IWA AND OIKAWA, ALSO MATSU AND HANAMAKI AHHAHAHAAH

your third years never made you feel insecure

like if you think idk listening to btr was weird because someone in the past made you feel like it be sure the next day they WILL PLAY FUCKING BIG TIME RUSH IN PRACTICE ONLY FOR YOU TO VIBE WITH THEM

also they all four have this little thought that they have to be the ones who protect you

in the court you looked out for them, outside of it they were the ones who did that

if you were teased or someone even had the audacity to make fun of you it could go three ways

you stoping kyoutani and yahaba because they were so ready to throw hands

matsukawa, hanamaki and kunimi just taking you out of there and rather say positive thinks about you

or oikawa and iwaizumi behind you giving the saltiest and meanest glares to whoever dared talking you that way and saying “and you still wonder why people don’t like you?, ” then iwaizumi says “you are right oikawa, you piece of crap have your entire life to be a jerk. take a day off your stupidity won’t left anyways”

god you sure loved those guys

BUT

as it can be really useful sometimes there were other times were they become so annoying

specially when it’s about someone liking you.

like romantic styles

i live for the idea that the vb team had obviously fangirls, oikawa mostly. but you also did

like yeah the fangirls of oikawa and the boys envied you

but the guys in aoba johsai high envied the volleyball team even more

god bless the poor guy or girl who DARES to ask you out

like please someone stop them 😭

on valentine’s day you came to practice a bit late just because you needed to figure it out how to organize all the fucking love letters and the chocolates and flowers that you got over the day.

oikawa was already worried as he always waited for you to start, and so were the guys so they decided to warm up a bit more to wait.

you crossed the door with thousands of gifts and all of that barely catching the ones which you dropped. because at this point you did not even try to hide it from the boys, you just wanted them to start practice.

he looked at you and knew exactly what that meant. he received this every once in a while, but god what was that feeling in his chest when some other people like you?

iwaizumi felt that too, that weird feeling not wanting anyone to think about you that wayyyyy

the rest of the boys had divided opinions but still you were their manager.

“so did all this came from...”

“yes matsu...”

“okay but for scientific purposes we need the names”

“HANAMAKI NO”

poor boys, they just are all scared that you’ll leave them because of someone

what a dramatic queens they are all

some of them didn’t like it bc they also had a big crush on you

so what they do is that they gatekeep anyone from you

like oml if they ever catched you and a girl or guy and they knew they liked you they constantly beg for your attention.

and it’s not only because they are being dramatic but also because they remember last year when you went out with some random dude and broke your heart like

they almost killed that guy

so they wanted you to feel happy and safe

to them? honestly you are the light of their life.

they dedicate every game to you, they take care of you, they listen to you, they brag about you, they love you

because honestly you did all that for them first

and ever since then they made sure to return that to you.

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