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star-girl69 · 3 months

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Your Girl

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

synopsis: late at night, you and clarisse get to know one another.

a/n: ykw i dont even know what i write anymore just enjoy it i truly just listen to the wind oh my god

Your Girl - Lana Del Rey (Unreleased)

warnings: im sorry im obsessed w the nightmare trope, friends to lovers MEYOW, HURT COMFORT, clarisse just wants to KISS, light tension, very light and fluffy tho…. not a lot of angst tbh, POSSESSIVE CLARISSE I SCREAMED, mutual pining YESSSSS, they’re in love but they don’t think the other could be in love w them, clarisse knows what she wants and sets out to get it, monsters- again it’s a drakon bc i’m evil, mentions of death, swearing, mentions of weapons, weed and smoking, substance abuse idk if it’s addiction my health teacher would be so disappointed, shotgunning weed, idk what’s happening honestly we’re all along for the ride, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

You don’t know where Clarisse gets it from, but she has good weed.

They’re these perfectly little rolled blunts, with some sort of amazing concoction inside- you can’t even be bothered to care that it’s bad for you. Not when it makes you feel so good, not when it makes everything else fade away.

So, that’s why you’re here now. Sitting in the woods, leaning against a rock covered in moss, staring up at the stars. Sometimes you talk, sometimes you’re just here next to each other. But tonight, you think you took one too many hits, so you’re feeling a little sentimental.

“I would fucking die without you, Clarisse.”

She snorts. “Yeah, probably.”

“No, no, not just like- because you’re so strong, and stuff, but because of this fucking weed. I can’t sleep without it, y’know.”

She hums.

“And, like, you need sleep to live, or else your brain will like eat itself, or something ridiculous. Did you know that?”

She looks at you, mouth curved into an unimpressed smile, eyebrows raised. “I didn’t, and I care so much. Thanks for telling me, leech.”

“That’s mean,” you huff.

“Then stop leeching off of me and stealing my weed.”

Clarisse always looks so pretty in the moonlight. You would never admit that to anyone, but in the dark when your head is all hazy- you know she’s pretty. She’s beautiful, if you’re being honest, but she’s also your dealer- you can’t risk upsetting her. But still, sometimes you’re not sure how she isn’t a daughter of Aphrodite.

But you know better than anyone else that she gets everything from Ares, like she’s a carbon copy of him.

She gets her precision, her strength, her tactical mind, her rolling storm of emotions from him.

Except, there’s a softness in her. Only here, in the moonlight. You don’t know if it’s you or the weed, but you like to think it’s you. You like to think that Clarisse likes you as much as you like her, not just tolerates you for your mediocre company.

She’s sitting with one foot planted onto the ground, hair pulled back all messy, her arm balancing on her knee. The joint is held out conveniently towards you, lazily in between her fingers, so you flip yourself onto your stomach and reach out with open lips.

She smiles and flips the joint around, placing it onto your lips. Your close your eyes and your mouth, breathing in deeply. Gods, does it taste horrible, but you love it too much.

You pull back and breathe out the smoke.

“You love me, and my weed-stealing tendencies.”

“Uh, yeah, okay,” she rolls her eyes.

—-

Clarisse probably trains more than any other demigod at camp. Thirty minutes after dinner, like clockwork, you can find her heading to the field where all the sparring dummies live.

Clarisse is probably your only true friend at camp. You stick to yourself for the most part, hang out with your siblings, but besides for that it’s Clarisse. And she’s the same way. She hangs out with her siblings, and then you. Of course- everyone at Camp knows her name and her ruthless reputation.

You’re unknown, she’s known. She’s the best fighter you’ve ever seen, you’re mediocre, compared to her. She helps you at every turn, you’re the one getting helped by her. She’s mean to everyone, and you’re kind to whoever happens upon you.

You force each other to bring out the other sides of yourself no one gets to see. Clarisse gets to be soft, you get to be loud and annoying. You’re friends, but you both get something out of it.

She’s your friend, your dealer, your savior.

If the first day you came to camp, running through the woods with a drakon hot on your heels and your mouth split open into a scream- maybe Clarisse and her siblings wouldn’t have turned around and noticed the drakon.

Of course, Clarisse was the one who actually killed it, and she was the one who hoisted you up from where you had collapsed, breathing heavily. She was the one who actually made sure you weren’t hurt while your satyr protector panicked about having to face the Cloven Council.

She was the one who found you in the middle of the night, that drakon hissing in your ear, she was the one who gave you the claw she had pried from it’s dead body, she was the one who told you it was dead and nothing could hurt you in Camp.

“Clarisse!” you call, running towards her. Most campers like to wind down after dinner, so the field is empty.

“Leech,” she says when you reach her, leaning her spear against a dummy and stretching her arms above her head.

You always come everyday. You ask her the same question.

“Do you have it?”

She digs under her armor, pulling out the small cloth containing the blunt. “You would probably go insane if I didn’t.”

You feel calmer just looking at it. You smile sheepishly up at her.

“You know I can’t sleep without it, Clarisse.”

She looks away, stuffing it back under her armor, against her stomach.

“Maybe you should try and skip one night.”

You scoff. “I don’t feel like pulling an all-nighter, Clarisse.”

She nods, but her face is riddled with concern. “Okay, angel,” she mutters, so low you can barely hear it. But you do. You hear her call you angel, and you turn away instead of slamming your lips into hers.

—-

After that first night, you slept with that claw tight into your hand. And it was fine. You still had the occasional nightmare, but every demigod had those. But the older you got, the more monsters you learned about, the more comfortable you got with being a demigod- the more the nightmares came. Knowing the drakon was dead didn’t help, and the nightmares got worse and worse until Clarisse found you again one night.

You had drifted apart from her. She had her life and you had hers, but ever since you’ve been bonded by the nights.

She wrapped her arms around you and let you cry, mumbling about how she was the strongest demigod at camp, and there was the barrier, and nothing would ever get through to you.

She was soft in that moment. And you could tell she regretted it, because she ignored you for the next few days until one of her siblings pushed you to the ground. She appeared out of nowhere and grabbed his shirt, yelling that if he ever touched you again, she’d fucking kill him.

While he sputtered and asked why she cared about some stupid weak girl, she helped you up and said: “She’s my girl.”

And since that day 3 months ago, you’ve always been her girl. Neither of you really knew what that meant, except you liked being around each other and you liked this transaction. Clarisse liked owning something. You liked belonging to someone.

That’s what this entire friendship is about- convenience.

So, that’s why Clarisse being concerned about you makes you feel weird. You care about Clarisse, she cares about you- but only enough that she doesn’t want to see you hurt by someone else. But who is she to stop you when you’re the one hurting yourself?

You arrive at the rock in the forest, fingers twisting together. Clarisse is already there, lighter and blunt set out on the ground, polishing her spear.

“Hey,” she says, looking down.

“Hi.”

You sit down, eager to get your hands on the weed and forget about the way Clarisse’s concern confuses you.

You stare at your shaking hand.

Gods, are you really that nervous?

Clarisse’s eyes are sharp, she notices everything, she processes it much faster than you can ever dream to. It’s why she’s so quick in battle. She’s a well oiled machine and you’re the one job she’s assigned to do- she knows you by heart after all these nights.

Her spear is pushed off her lap. “Why are you shaking?” she says, voice low and raspy, her hand cupping yours.

“Low blood sugar,” you lie. “I’ll grab a snack before I go to bed.”

She says nothing, but you watch her hesitate as she grabs the blunt and the lighter from the ground, you watch her hesitate again as she goes to light it. But she lights it, she sticks it in between her fingers and holds it out to you.

“C’mere,” she mutters, and you lean forward and let her place the blunt on your parted lips. You breathe in, only for a few seconds, and you could go for a lot longer.

“I wasn’t done,” you huff as she takes her own drag.

“My weed,” she shrugs. “I decide how much you get.”

“You’re a bitch.”

She laughs. She laughs and it makes your stomach twist in such a good way you can’t feel like this anymore, you can’t remember what she does to you, what she called you.

You reach out blindly for the blunt, biting your lip as you practically climb on top of her.

“Clarisse!” you yell, but she seems to find your desperation hilarious, holding the blunt out as far as she can. “I fucking hate you, oh my Gods.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” she says, pushing you off of her. You realize you’re laying on your stomach in between her legs, one hand planted to the ground around her leg, the other reaching out.

She leans back and takes another drag. You roll your eyes and move to attack her, but she’s too fast, sitting up and holding your hand down, her other hand grabbing your chin. She breathes out the smoke right into your lips that are parted in shock, smiling as you stare right into her amused eyes.

She leans back while you sit there stupidly on top of her, blowing out the smoke. “That- that’s- I hate you, did I mention that?”

“You did,” she muses. “But we both know you’re lying.”

You look at her, at her wide smile, at the look in her eyes. You want nothing more than to be her girl- her girl in the way that she’ll kiss your head, tell you about all the things you’ll never do, she’ll lay down with you in a bed of soft pillows. Her girl in the way the reason she’s soft in the moonlight isn’t the weed, it’s because of you. Her girl in the way you can run to her, the way you do now, but with the added connotation of love.

You grab the joint, and she lets you, watching intently as you breathe in and blow out the smoke. She has no right to be worried over you. Not when you’re the one making the choice to waste away your youth. And especially when you’re not her girl- not in the way you want to be.

—-

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come,” she hums.

You sit back against the rock. Normally, you would have been here 20 minutes ago.

You didn’t catch her after dinner, and you stayed firmly in your bed until it all got to be too much. You’re terrified of sleeping, of the nightmares that will come- but for some reason, the weed just puts you at such ease that you don’t have any nightmares.

You didn’t want to be near Clarisse tonight. Not after yesterday, not after the way she’s been making you feel, and the fact that you know she could never really like you. Why would she? You are the stupid weak girl who gets pushed over. You run from drakon’s and can’t even sleep because of nightmares.

Clarisse is fiercely protective of those she loves, but you’re too much work.

You wanted to go one night. One night without the weed, and prove to her and yourself that you don’t need it. You’re not that weak.

But you couldn’t.

You sit down, she looks at your tense shoulders and doesn’t tease you, just hands you the blunt. You mumble something of a thank you, looking up at the stars, shoulders relaxing after a few more breaths.

“I, uh, I tried to skip. Tonight, I mean. I tried not to come.” It’s embarrassing to admit this. You’re so scared of the nightmares that even if it’s a placebo effect, you come back to this clearing every night.

“But you couldn’t?” she asks.

“I couldn’t,” you affirm, staring at the ground.

“Well, you can’t just go cold turkey, dummy. You have to wean yourself off of it. Do you not remember, like, any of those nicotine patch ads?” she laughs. “You’ve got a good memory, you remember.”

“Shut up, meanie,” you mumble, raising the joint to your lips. She stops you.

“Ah-ah. Starts now. Make it a good one, ‘cause that’s your last, baby.”

“Fine,” you mumble, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. You breathe in for a long time, tempted to go a little longer, but Clarisse reaches over and pinches your cheek. “Okay!” you yell, throwing the joint back to her.

She laughs and raises it to her own lips, taking in another long drag before putting it out.

You look at her, silent question in the air. She shrugs.

“Been meaning to slow down for a while, why not do it together?”

“Yeah,” you hum, looking back towards the stars. “Oh, hey, Ares is out tonight.” She looks over.

“Yeah,” she muses. “Fuckin’ Ares.”

“It’s still beautiful,” you say, stars in your eyes. “You have to think about it the way mortals do. They don’t know the Gods put them up there- they think it’s just some random spotting of stars, they think they made patterns out of it. Isn’t that beautiful? To make patterns and people out of stars? To look for humanity where there is none?”

“I never thought about it like that,” Clarisse says.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” you ask. You can feel her eyes on you.

“Yeah,” she affirms. “Beautiful.”

—-

The next two weeks goes by the same. You don’t catch Clarisse after dinner, but you come every night, you smoke a little less, she teases you and gets closer to you. She gets bolder and bolder and you get shyer and shyer.

You still feel like too much. If she just lets you prove this to her and to yourself, the maybe you can lean against the rock with her and flirt back.

—-

You meet Clarisse by the rock. She’s still standing, waiting for you. She takes the last of the blunt you’ve been using for the last few days and lights it, taking one small drag before she flips it around and holds it out to you.

“C’mon,” she guides. “Not too much, I’ll stop you.”

You feel kind of like a baby as Clarisse puts the joint on her lips, fingertips against your face to steady her hand. You breathe in for just a second, tempted for more, but she takes it away. You look up at her, fingers twisted together.

“Clarisse, I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

She leaves the blunt to blow out in the wind in the natural dip of the rock, your own little ashtray at the top. Of course, Clarisse will come and collect it the next morning- you don’t want to upset the nymphs and satyrs in the forest.

“It’s a good idea,” she affirms. “Don’t worry, okay?”

You’re scared. You remember being chased by the drakon even now, you remember it’s snarls, you remember it’s claws moving through the air. You remember your heart pumping in your ears, you remember the stones in your stomach that were supposed to be fear.

You feel like Kronos, but what you swallowed wouldn’t just sit idly inside of you- no, your fear would rip through your stomach and your skin and burst out of you in an explosion of blood, like some sick joke of a firework.

She grabs your wrists. Clarisse is soft, here, in the moonlight.

“Hey, it’s okay. I-I was thinking, I didn’t know if you were gonna be okay, but why don’t you sleep in my cabin?”

You shift on your feet. “Clar, no, I can’t ask you to do that. What if we get caught? And I-I- it’s embarrassing, what if your siblings see? What if they tell everyone?”

Clarisse rolls her eyes and tugs you closer from where you had subconsciously started to drift away.

“They already think we’re dating, anyways. Besides, Y/N, no one cares. Most of my siblings have secrets anyways,” she smiles.

“Wh- we’re dating? They think- why?”

Her face is deadpan. “‘Cause you’re my girl.”

You pull back. “Clarisse.”

“What?” she says, slightly incredulous. “You are. You’re about the only person I can tolerate at this camp. I hope you know that. I know I can be horrible, but really, I… care about you a lot.”

You look in her eyes. There’s no lies, no insincerity.

“I know, Clarisse. And I… I appreciate it so much. You’re, like, my only friend,” you smile.

She smiles back but it’s tight. “Friend, yeah.”

You put your arms around her neck and hug her. It’s the first time you’ve ever really hugged her, and her arms wrap tight around your waist. Her mouth presses against your hair. You let yourself be her girl in this moment.

Clarisse is your best friend. She cares about you. Of course she helps you with this. She’s your best friend. Of course you let her.

—-

You do follow Clarisse back to the Ares cabin, back to her bed- and she points to one of her siblings you can’t see in the dark, but there are two figures in the bed. She smiles and you stifle a laugh.

You know better than anyone else that big bad Ares kids are like a marshmallow on the inside. They act all tough, and they are pretty tough, but there’s a soft spot inside of them only unlocked by one person with the right key.

You notice her sibling has their arm around the other person. You wonder if Clarisse will wrap her arm around you like that too.

Clarisse climbs into her bed, opening the covers for you. The beds at Camp are twin sized, but you can fit two people on them if you’re close together. You don’t hesitate, not anymore, not when you have one chance to pretend you’re really hers.

You lay on your side, facing her, hands tucked up by your chest. Her eyes meet yours, she brushes her curls out of her face.

“Good?” she asks. You nod, breathing out.

“‘M fine,” you say.

She rubs your arm, cold from the dark night. “Just relax, okay? Just close your eyes, Y/N.”

You do, you close your eyes, but you’re so fucking terrified you can’t.

“Clarisse,” you breathe, a plead. For what, you don’t know. You want a million things from her in this moment. It’s not fair of you to ask her, you know this, but it doesn’t stop you from asking.

Your breath comes fast, your nails dig into your palms, but you keep your eyes screwed shut like sleep will just magically hit you like a train.

“It’s okay,” Clarisse says, firm. “Why are you so scared?” she whispers.

“They’re so real,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

“They’re not.”

She wraps her arms around you so tight you feel like she’s crushing you. But it keeps you in the moment. If you focus on the way her skin feels against yours, on the way her thumb brushes your shoulder blade, her fingertips scratching the back of your scalp.

If you focus, if you imagine all the thing you and her will never do, if you imagine being her girl, then you can fall asleep.

You dream of her lips pressing against your head, her voice in your ear, calling you her angel.

—-

You wake up, Clarisse still wrapped around you, and slowly detangle yourself. Drool pools at the corner of her lips, and you have to bite back a giggle as you slip out of the blankets and into the warm riding sun.

She looks just as pretty in the sunlight as she does in the moonlight. You feel like a lover slipping out of a bed of secrets. But you’re not. You’re just a friend slipping out of a bed of rumors.

She looks so peaceful, you can’t help but wonder if she always sleeps like this- or if having you next to her had the same effect on her sleep as it did to yours.

—-

There’s a loud knock at your cabin door.

There’s only you and a few of your siblings in here, putting the final touches on their outfits for the day, grabbing the last items they need. One of your younger siblings open the door, and you look around the pillars- maybe it’s a counselor doing some sort of inspection? You take a glance around your bunk- but it’s all clean.

Your eyes meet hers.

“Out,” she says, roughly. She looks at you so intently you almost wonder if she’s talking to you. But when you siblings stand there in shock, she looks away. “Well? I said get out, dummies.”

They exchange looks with you, but eventually shuffle out, not wanting to risk Clarisse and her wrath.

She shuts the door behind your last sibling.

“Being tough has it perks, huh?” she smiles, leaning against the door. Your shirt isn’t even pulled on properly, one of your bra straps is already falling down your shoulder from the act of putting your shirt on, and you’re staring at her with your mouth wide open.

She looks you up and down.

“C-Clarisse, what-?”

She walks over to you, frown etched onto her face.

“I woke up and you weren’t there.”

“Oh,” you say. “I… I thought you would have wanted me gone-”

“Don’t care. If you’re going to sleep with me then you need to wake me up and tell me you’re leaving.”

She rolls her eyes at your confusion. She sits on your bed and then gestures animatedly for you to sit down.

“Did you not sleep well?” she fusses. “What’s up with you this morning?”

“I slept great, Clarisse, it’s just- why are you here?”

“To tell you that you can’t leave,” she deadpans. “I mean, you spend all night shaking in my arms, terrified, and then I wake up and you’re not there? I almost killed someone. You’re lucky I decided to check here first, Y/N.”

She laughs. She laughs like it’s so funny.

“Why?” you ask.

“‘Cause you’re my girl,” she shrugs. “And-”

“Clarisse, what does that mean?”

You know what you want. And you’re not dumb, but you’re the only friend Clarisse really has- what did you have to compare it to? You’ve been thinking about it in your head, rolling it around like a diamond- each side reflects something you want from her. Her love, her protection, her touch, her time, her.

She plays with her fingers. “It means… I like touching you. I like protecting you. I like being near you. I like your voice and your face.”

She stares at you blankly, like she’s recounting a grocery list, waiting for an affirmative “yes, I heard you.” But all you can do is stare in shock, trying to make your brain catch up with your heart- Clarisse likes your face. Clarisse feels the same way you do. You can be her girl, and you’re not too much for her, you’re not just friends.

“Oh, fuck it,” she mumbles. She places her hand on your face and pecks your lips. “That’s what it means, okay? I’m, like, embarrassingly in love with you, if you haven’t noticed.”

Clarisse is so blunt and forward it makes your head spin.

She stares into your eyes, searching them for something other than shock and confusion.

“Okay,” she says. Shuffling back. You can tell she’s hurt and embarrassed, but her face reveals nothing other than faux confidence and indifference. “I’ll go, I guess-”

“Bitch,” you mumble, slamming your lips onto hers.

It feels so overwhelmingly right and fills you with such a calmness that weed could never compare to. If you were dependent on the joints, then one taste and you’re addicted to Clarisse. She kisses you back with just as much ferocity, throwing your arms around her neck, trying to swallow you whole with her mouth as she grabs your neck with one hand, your face with the other.

It’s months of tension and wanting, lips touching through the passing of a joint, all of it coming down to this moment that feels so bad, so sinful- surely the Gods must frown upon loving someone this much. You would never pray to any of them again if it meant Clarisse would keep kissing you like this.

When she finally pulls back, you’re both smiling wide, leaning into her palm, hands playing with the curls at the base of her neck. You feel like a giddy school girl. You feel like a lover discovering something wildly new and unknown, promising to keep it secret, sealing it with a kiss of pure fire.

“That was such a mean way to confess to someone,” you say. “Just bitchy. Brass and blunt- harsh, even.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles, pressing her face against yours.

“Yeah, it’s okay. I know you’re a big softie who drools in her sleep.” She pulls away and glares at you.

“I don’t fucking drool, Y/N. You’re seeing things.”

You fake frown, bringing her closer to you. “Such a horrible thing to say to your girlfriend.”

“My girlfriend?” she breathes, swollen lips parting like she’s aching to kiss you again.

“Your girlfriend,” you affirm, staring straight into her eyes.

You sunk more into becoming a demigod and all it got you was nightmares and a fear of sleeping. But the more you sunk into being her girl, the more you sunk into loving her and being loved.

You don’t know where Clarisse gets her softness from. Certainly not from her father. She didn’t learn to kiss your head from him. She didn’t learn how to hold you, how to call you hers, how to whisper in your ear from Ares.

You don’t know where Clarisse gets her softness from, but it’s good.

—-

SHOUTOUT TO clarisse “cause you’re my girl” la rue LOVE YOUR POSSESSIVE ASS!!!!!!!!

—-

clarisse when y/n smokes weed: oh so pretty……

clarisse when y/n can only fall asleep bc of her arms or her weed: my girl fr……..

clarisse when y/n: oh my wonderful perfect angel

—-

y/n: BITCH

clarisse: YOURE SO HOT FUCK

—-

where did clarisse get her weed from you may ask? me that’s where she got it from i ripped through the fabric of reality to give it to her to make this happen actually and you’re welcome

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

@sincerely-silk

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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evermoresqueiswriting · 10 days

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the one where clarisse learns about her love language

"Late in the night, the city's asleep Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep Change my priorities The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury" - King Of My Heart, Taylor Swift

summary: after getting hurt during one game of capture de flag, clarisse gets taken care of by you and after this, clarisse went from never being at the infirmary to being there almost every day with a new injury. weird for an ares kid to get this easily injured, but you didn't mind

pairing: clarisse la rue x apollo!reader

word count: 6.2k i suddenly lost the ability to write shorter fics bruh

tags: fluff, clarisse fell first and harder

masterlist // ask box

No one at camp had a job at camp per say. Hephaestus kids were the ones forging the weapons campers used, and Demeter kids sometimes cooked dinner. And some Apollo kids – including yourself – were the designated healers at camp. So, it wasn’t your job, per say, to stay at the infirmary all day long, but you were.

You enjoyed the calm and serenity of that place. The sun always shined through the windows, and you could sunbathe all day long, while listening to your favourite songs or painting. Most of the time it was quiet, except when Will followed you there. He was a rather loud kid, he loved to ask questions and learn about everything you did.

“Shouldn’t you be playing with other kids your age instead of trying to work here?”

“Shouldn’t you be socialising with kids your age instead of working for free?” Will replied in the same tone.

“Rude!”

“I learned from the best,” he gave you a pat on the shoulder.

“I regret it. All the time,” you turned away. “If you’re gonna stay here, at least help me clean this place.”

The first time Will tried to help you clean this place, it was a disaster. Before you ran the infirmary, it wasn’t organised, everything was just laying around. Then you came in, and cleaned up the place, and organised it how you liked it. Will didn’t know that, so he just cleaned up like he thought was fine. It wasn’t. And you had lectured him about never – ever – touching anything again without you being there.

“Tomorrow’s Capture the Flag,” Will started. “They put really far from the flag and the fight, again,” he frowned.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It always happens when the Ares cabin is teaming up with us. They’re always leading the fight.”

“Well they are good,” you shrugged. “But you know you can talk to Lee about this, he’s our head counsellor and he could talk to Clarisse.”

He shook his head.

“Clarisse is kinda scary,” Will admitted.

“Did I never tell you to never judge a book by its cover,” you put your hands on your hips, “but in that case you’re right. Clarisse does scare me a little bit too. And I’m kinda glad she decided to put me far away from her this time.”

Will rolled his eyes, clearly still upset.

“Okay, I can see how this isn’t great,” you sighed. “If for the next one, we’re still teaming up with the Ares cabin, I’ll talk to Lee and Clarisse alright?”

He nodded. Hopefully, you weren’t going to team up with the Ares cabin anytime soon. You never talked to Clarisse, but you knew who she was. Everyone knew her. Ares daughter, head counsellor and incredibly scary. She was an amazing fighter, and no one wanted to be at the other end of her spear.

“I’m just saying,” you ranted to Lee at dinner, “Will is a kid and it sucks that you decided to exclude him.”

“Who’s ‘you’,” he inquired. “Clarisse was the brain behind everything. She’s the strategist.”

“And what are you? A plant? You were there when the strategy was being made,” you argued.

“But Will never said anything to me. It’s always been this way.”

“Well he told me, and I’m telling you. Please pass along this information if we ever get teamed up with the Ares cabin again,” you smiled.

“Sure,” Lee nodded. “You’re the boss.”

“‘m not,” you mumbled and kept on eating.

Lee was the Apollo cabin’s head counsellor. But really, you were his co-head counsellor. You have been at camp for a long time now, since the age of ten and you have always been a year-rounder at camp. But when the head counsellor spot freed up, you vouched for Lee. He wanted that position, he deserved it, and you agreed. But he always came for advice and your opinion.

Capture the Flag day finally arrived, and you were getting ready, putting your armour on. You picked your bow and slid it on your shoulder, before leaving your cabin. You joined your team – the red one – and everyone was there already. Clarisse stood tall and proud at the front, planting her spear next to her.

“Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged,” Chiron announced – like every single time. “Killing or maiming is not allowed.”

“Much to my regret,” Dionysus mumbled. “So yeah, let the game begin or whatever.”

Clarisse turned around, waved her hand around and people were running to their assigned position. You were on flag duty. On top of the hill that had a perfect view of your flag. If you saw anyone from the opposite side you'd shoot explosive arrows to blind and confuse them for a second, so your team had time to disarm them before they could reach your flag.

You looked around, and spotted Michael and Lee. Chatting, and looking around. Moving on. Ares' kids were fighting some kids from the Hephaestus cabin. Logic. And then you spotted Clarisse. Walking alone through the forest. Probably to the other side where the blue flag was.

But then you also spotted a group of three Athena kids – blue team – following her closely. Clarisse wasn’t stupid, she probably knew about them following her.

“What are you watching?” someone asked, startling you.

“Will! What are you doing here?”

“There wasn’t anyone around the borders, so I came to help you. So what are you staring at?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged, going back to monitor your flag.

Will stared at you, huffed and went to look at what you were looking at.

“y/n?,” Will called for you.

“What?” you didn’t look at him.

“y/n!”

“What?” you gave him a quick glance.

“Something’s wrong.”

That caught your attention. You looked back at where Clarisse was. She seemed fine. The three Athena kids were no longer there though.

“What?”

“Don’t you see the trap?”

“What trap?” you frowned, looking more closely at where she stood.

It was a particularly sunny day. If your dad wasn’t Apollo, you’d be blinded by the sun rays. But your dad was Apollo, so you were doing great. And there it was. The trap. It was so bright, it was hard to spot it. And the Athena kids knew that. So when Clarisse walked over it, it was too late and something came flying toward her.

“What the hell?” you cursed before running down the hill. “Stay here,” you warned Will.

Before you left, you gave a quick glance back, and Clarisse was down, surely unconscious.

“Fuck.”

You sprinted towards where she was when you heard the emergency horn. The emergency horn that Chiron played at the start of every summer so campers would know what that sound meant. A warning for campers that the game stopped. When you reached Clarisse, Chiron and Mr D were already there. As well as most campers.

“What happened?” campers talked among themselves.

“Move!” you pushed the kids blocking you from reaching Clarisse.

Clarisse was bleeding from her forehead, and a metal stick was stuck in her left shoulder. It was overwhelming, people squeezing in to see what was going on, talking to each other. Even Chiron and Mr D couldn’t keep them in place. You kneeled beside Clarisse, trying to shield her from the campers, when you spotted one of the Athena kids that was following her earlier.

You stood swiftly, without leaving Clarisse unattended and grabbed his armour with both hands to bring him closer.

“You take another step toward Clarisse again and I’ll make sure you won’t ever, ever, see another healthy day again. I’ll make sure you and your brothers will wake everyday in pain wishing you were dead instead,” you cursed him.

You spoke in a low voice, but everyone heard. Just like that, everyone took a step back.

“y/n,” Chiron put his hand on your shoulder. “You’re needed in the infirmary, I’ll bring Clarisse there.”

You let him go, took your armour off and threw it on the ground before walking to the infirmary with your brothers close behind you. Michael had great healing skills too, so you’d need him. Will was learning so he stayed with you. Lee, as your head counsellor, also had to be here somehow.

“Can you really do that?” Will asked timidly. “Make them sick forever.”

“Apollo kids can inherit dad’s plague powers,” Lee stated. “But it’s rare, and never that powerful.”

Will stared at you, but you only stared at the door. Waiting for Chiron to arrive.

“Why are you so worried about Clarisse of all people,” Michael huffed.

Lee slapped his arm.

“What!” Michael rubbed his arm.

“Great to know that’s what you’d think if we were ever on the battlefield,” you noted, “choosing who to help and who can die.”

“That’s not what I said!” he shouted.

“Then why shouldn’t I be worried about an injured camper, who just happened to be Clarisse?” you shouted back.

Someone cleared their throat. You both stopped bickering. Chiron. He put Clarisse on the bed next to the window and stepped back so you and Michael could start working. You didn’t need to talk to know what to do. You trained together, as a team, for years, so everything was done flawlessly and quickly.

“She should be fine,” you announced, “I’ll stay and feed her ambrosia for the next few days and she should wake.”

“Great,” Chiron nodded, relieved. “Great work you two, as usual.”

They all left, except for Will and you both sat on the couch. You stared at Clarisse, with her head wrapped in a bandage, her shoulder too.

“She doesn’t look so scary now huh,” you said.

“No,” Will agreed. “So it really was the Athena cabin?”

“I don’t know, I mean I saw them. I don’t think Annabeth would’ve agreed to such a plan. As in a plan that’d almost kill their opponent in Capture the Flag. For a real quest, why not. But Capture the Flag?”

“What’s going to happen to those who pulled this stunt?”

“Well,” you sighed, “knowing Chiron, he’d probably just revoke their dessert privileges for two weeks instead of one. But I’m sure once she wakes up, she’ll know what to do.”

“Kill them?” Will ask, with a horrified expression.

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

Will left first, leaving you alone with Clarisse. You told him you’d join him later when dinner would come. You went to see Clarisse. The bandages were already soaked, so you carefully removed them. You carefully cleaned her wounds again before bandaging them again. You fed her a tiny amount of ambrosia before joining the rest of your siblings for dinner.

Before the feast could begin, Chiron gave a speech about how Capture the Flag wasn’t the place to settle personal accounts and that maiming and killing was forbidden. And how this time it went too far.

“I’ve talked to the head counsellor in question, and it will be taken seriously. There will be consequences, and I don’t ever want to see this happening ever again.”

Campers nodded along, and went back to their table. You devoured your food in no time, not forgetting to leave some for the offering. Then you rushed to shower and clean your face before running to the infirmary where you’d spend the next few nights.

“I really hope you’ll wake soon,” you told unconscious Clarisse. “I’m not used to having someone else in here.”

You walked around, putting things back where they’re supposed to, and walked back to where Clarisse was. Then you stood again, and sat.

“I’m crazy. A few hours with someone who doesn’t talk to me and I’m going insane,” you sighed. “Well, while we’re here, I have a few things to say, to get off my chest really,” you started your rant. “You know Will, my little brother. Well, Will is capable of holding his own, he can fight… maybe not your siblings, cause you’re all very, very, violent. But you don’t have to put him this far away each time you know, he notices.

“I’m saying,” you rested your back against the bed, “it could be different, you could come up with a different kind of strategy. It works for sure, you win a lot, but we could win in a different way also.

“You know I saw you,” you continued after a moment. “Being followed by these idiots. I thought you knew, and–,” you paused. “Ugh I should’ve tried to protect you. Warn you. It was my job. Why didn’t I think of that earlier? And it was hot as hell, you could’ve felt a little dizzy and I should’ve–”

“Shut up,” Clarisse wheezed.

You whipped around, standing up before backing away.

“Ar– Clarisse?” you whispered. “Are you feeling alright?” you walked to her.

Her eyes were still closed, she frowned and shook her head slightly.

“Waw, Ares kids are tougher than I thought,” you mumbled to yourself.

You went to grab some water and a straw, and sat next to Clarisse, on the bed.

“You should drink a bit.”

She opened her eyes, and stared at you, with a blank expression. You blinked, and smiled, holding up the straw to her mouth. You frowned when she refused to drink.

“Drinking water is good for you,” you added. “Please stop staring at me like you want to murder me.”

She rolled her eyes and drank everything before closing her eyes again, and turning her head on the other side.

“Well, I’ll be sleeping on this bed,” you pointed to the bed next to hers, “if you need anything, shout.”

Clarisse kept quiet, so you went to bed and fell asleep very quickly. Clarisse, on the other hand, could not fall asleep. She turned head around and looked at you. You clearly slept well, with your mouth slightly opened. After a few minutes of staring outside the window, her stomach growled. She needed to eat.

There had to be food in here – she looked around and spotted a basket full of fruits and cake. That’ll do. She gathered all her strength and tried to push herself up using her left arm and yelped in pain. That woke you up.

“What’s wrong?” you worried.

“Nothing,” Clarisse panted, biting her lips.

You rushed to her and saw her shoulder was bleeding again.

“What happened?” you worried, turning the lights on.

You grabbed clean bandages, and a clean towel with some alcohol and rushed back to her. Clarisse somehow managed to sit up, her right arm holding onto where her left shoulder was stabbed.

“Don’t cover it,” you pushed her hand away.

You started to remove the blood soaked bandages when she grabbed your hand to stop you. You gave her a questioning look. Clarisse quickly let go of your hand and looked away, breathing slowly. You opened your mouth, but then closed it and resumed your work.

“What were you trying to do anyway?” you asked when the wound was clean.

“I was hungry.”

“I–, I mean I did say to shout if you needed me but I was not thinking a pained scream with you bleeding again. Just a ‘hey y/n bring me food’ would’ve suffice. I would’ve been up. And that’s done. Good as new.”

Clarisse was still looking away from you which hid her head wound. When she turned her head toward you, you raised your hand to touch her face, but she flinched away hard at your sudden movement. You froze, too afraid to move again. No one talked or dared to breathe – the silence became heavy. Clarisse opened her eyes, and stared at you. She took your hand in hers and put it down.

“I–,” you breathed, “I was just going to check your head wound,” you murmured.

“Go ahead then,” she sat straighter.

You raised your hands slower this time, and tilted her head. You tore off her bandage and put it back in place. Clarisse could hear her heartbeat pacing up. Her mind and body stopped functioning. What was happening? She kept thinking about how your hands felt so warm in the night breeze, and how pretty you looked so close. Then when you dropped your hands, she came back to reality.

“Your face is still good. Like always,” and gave her a small smile.

“I’ll go eat,” she blurted out before leaving bed.

“Oh– okay. I can go to the kitchen and bring other things if you want.”

“No it’s fine,” she brushed you off, focused on the fruits in front of her.

Which was hard with you so close behind her. You watched Clarisse eat the strawberries and blueberries and grapes, and then you grabbed an orange and started to peel it. Once you were done you handed it to her. She grabbed it slowly and whispered a low thank you before eating it. Clarisse also ate half of the cake Katie brought to you earlier.

“Demeter kids, am I right,” you ate with her, “I don't know what they put in their cakes but I could eat them everyday. You should rest now,” you put your hand on her right arm and squeezed it. “You can barely stand.”

This time when Clarisse closed her eyes, she fell asleep instantly. And so did you. The next morning, you were the first one up. As soon as the sun rose, you were ready to start your day. You went to your cabin and washed up before grabbing a new toothbrush for Clarisse. You changed your clothes, and then went to the Ares cabin. You opened the door, and no one was up yet. You spotted the only empty bunk bed – Clarisse had one for herself – and saw her drawer next to it. You grabbed a new pair of pants, and a new camp-half blood tee and left in a hurry. Clarisse was up by the time you came back.

“I brought some of your clothes so you could change,” you gave her the clothes and the toothbrush. “I did sneak into your cabin, but I didn’t look through your stuff, don't worry about that,” you smiled. “I mean, except for your clothes – sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“Well, I’ll let you change and I’ll be… not here for sure. I’ll go get breakfast!”

Clarisse watched you walk away, humming to some songs and when you were out of her sight, she got out of bed to change and clean herself. All she could think about was what happened yesterday. What even happened yesterday?

Before yesterday, you never spoke. She knew your name and vaguely knew what you looked like, but that was it. Since she arrived at camp, she didn’t once step into the infirmary – she didn’t need to. But now, for some reason, all she could think about was you. And how warm and soft your hands felt, how nice it felt to have you touch her face like that.

By the time you came back, Clarisse went back to bed and laid down. You gave her what you brought and you ate together, picking off the same plate.

“How are you feeling this morning? Does it still hurt?” you pointed at her shoulder.

“I’m—,” she stopped. “It still hurts,” which was true. “A lot,” that wasn’t..

“Really?” you worried. “I thought you’d be doing fine, because you woke so early. I thought your body was healing faster than most campers. Well,” you picked a strawberry with your fork, “you’ll have to stay here longer then.”

“Can’t go against the doctor’s orders,” she shrugged.

“True,” you smiled. “You finish this,” you pushed the plate toward her, “I’ll go get some supplies to change this,” you gently patted her shoulder.

You rolled your chair away, and grabbed what you needed and rolled back to Clarisse. You hopped onto her bed, and started your routine. The wounds were healing perfectly fine, and very quickly, so it was odd that Clarisse was still in extreme pain.

“I don’t think these wounds will scar,” you said.

“A shame, they’d make me look tougher.”

“Look?” you huffed. “You don’t need those to look tougher, you already do. Scary even,” you joke, but not really. “I mean I’m not scared– anymore… but yeah, some people may say– think you do. Anyway, scar or not, you’ll always look and be the toughest.”

“Anymore?” she grinned. “Were you before?”

“I mean,” you dragged that last vowel, “I don’t think scared is the right word. More like– intimidated. I never went to these meetings for Capture the Flag because I knew if you disagreed or worse – dismissed my ideas – I would’ve cried.”

“I never would’ve done that,” she chuckled, “I don’t think you’re capable of having bad ideas. Lee’s constantly praising you and giving us your ideas that I always take into account.”

“Really?” you couldn’t stop your smile.

She shrugged, and nodded. You playfully slapped her on the shoulder – the left one – and she yelped in pain.

“What the hell!”

‘Sorry!” you backed away, “it was a reflex.”

Clarisse ended up staying in the infirmary with you for three whole days, but she couldn’t fake it anymore when the wound completely healed and it was as if nothing had happened. The day she left, you cleaned up the room and sat alone on the couch, just like before.

It was weird. Usually, you enjoyed the silence and solitude of the room, but now it was as if time had stopped. Every time you looked at the clock, it’d only been two minutes. And so were the next few days. Then on Friday, as usual, Lee came in to visit. You worked in silence – which was the first odd thing Lee noticed – then he saw how you always stared at the empty bed Clarisse used to stay in.

“You’re being weird,” he said.

“I’m not!”

“You’re never this quiet when I visit.”

“The past few days were a bit dry,” you explained casually.

“You can say you miss Clarisse, it’s fine,” he sat next to you on the couch.

“I–,” you sighed. “It’s just… I was getting used to having someone with me.”

“Well maybe you should spend less time here and more time outside with, mmh I don’t know, Clarisse maybe.”

“What if she doesn’t see me as a friend though? What if I’m imagining things? She hasn’t visited me once.”

“Then you come back here, and the end.”

“I hate you,” you groaned. “You’re no help to me at all!”

When the door suddenly flew open which startled both of you. You could recognise these hair anywhere.

“Clarisse?” you called her name.

She turned to face you, and a gasp came out of your mouth before rushing to her.

“What happened to your face?” you held her arms.

Clarisse had a nasty cut going from her eyebrow to her hairline. She stared at you without saying anything before turning her gaze to Lee, and he spurted out some excuses and then left. But before he closed the door, he gave you a knowing look saying ‘see, she’s here’.

“What happened?” you frowned.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. She cleared her throat. “These few days of rest weren’t a good idea I think.”

“That’s–,” you paused, “not accurate.”

But before she could reply, you grabbed her arm and dragged her to the other side of the room, and let her sit on the chair. You grabbed clean cotton and some alcohol and started to clean her wound. You stood closely to her, between her legs with her hands holding onto your thighs to stay steady.

“How did this happen anyway?” you asked.

“I was practising with my brothers.”

You frowned, and tried to step away but Clarisse was holding on tight to your thighs.

“You got beat up by your brothers?” you repeated with a raised eyebrow. “I have a hard time believing this. You’re just better than them,” you said casually before patching up her wound.

“Why do you know so much about my brothers’ skills?”

“I don’t! I know about yours. And from what I saw in the past, it’s always you leading the fight so I assumed that’s because you’re the best among them.”

“Mh,” she hummed, “well I guess you haven’t been doing your job very well if I’m not back to my old self yet,” she grinned.

“Or,” you grinned back, “maybe it’s your skills. I think they need a little sharpening. Maybe I could spare some time and teach you if you need.”

She suppressed a smile.

“Or, maybe you just want to spend time with me.”

You were close to each other, and Clarisse was still holding onto you. You crossed your arms, and stared at her. She was looking up at you, and you were looking down, which was a rare occurrence since she was much taller than you.

“I’m doing a favour to you at best. But if you don’t want to,” you sighed, “it’s–.”

“I do,” she affirmed.

That was the start of your friendship. Turns out Clarisse was really glad to hang out with someone that wasn’t her sibling. She was always the one seaking you out. At lunch, at dinner, during classes. All the time. Even when you were working, because somehow she always, always, ended up getting hurt.

One of the first times she came in after your friendship hangouts was for a sprained ankle. She came in limping, and threw herself on her – not really – bed, groaning.

“What happened?” you rushed to her side, worried. “You’re lucky I just came back in here!”

Clarisse didn’t want to admit this, but that was exactly why she was here. She was on her way to her cabin when she spotted you walking around with your sisters and she was so focused on you that she tripped and fell.

“I just fell,” she explained.

“You just fell,” you repeated slowly. “Right. Well lucky you because this,” you patted her leg, “will heal in no time with this,” you brought her some ambrosia.

“That’s it?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you smiled.

“Oh.”

Then the next time she came, like the next few ones, were always injuries that required you to clean up the wound, and then patch her up. It went from tiny cuts to ‘I have a bruise here’ then showing you her perfectly unbruised skin to serious injuries that she got during Capture the Flag.

“You know at this rate I feel like you’re doing this on purpose,” you joked when she came in for the umpteenth time. “What is it this time?”

She shrugged and sat on her designated bed, and laid down. You joined her and sat next to where her legs rested. She held up her hand and you took it before she dragged you to lay beside her. The beds in the infirmary weren’t big enough for two so you were half laying on Clarisse with her arm resting behind your head.

“Did you paint that?” she asked.

The ceiling was painted by the Apollo cabin, all together you decided on a design and painted it over weeks worth of work.

“Here,” you pointed at the top of the painting. “That was painted by me.”

“Two planets?”

“The moon and Saturn,” you smiled.

“Linked by a thread?”

“Yea, the red string of fate. It’s from Chinese mythology. The old lunar matchmaker god, who is in charge of marriages, would tie together two people with this red string of fate and they are destined to be together, to be lovers regardless of time, place or circumstances. And no matter what, that thread will never break. It can stretch or get tangled up, but it never breaks.”

“And what about the moon and Saturn then?” she frowned, confused.

“Because,” you paused. “Your braids like a pattern, love you to the moon and to Saturn,” you started to sing, “Passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long.”

You turned your head to look at her only to see confusion on her face.

“Taylor Swift, seven,” you explained. “It’s great, we’ll have to listen to it someday.”

“Sure.”

“Really?” you looked at her excitedly.

“Yeah, you seem to like her so sure, I’ll listen with you,” she shrugged.

“Oh and that’s Will’s painting,” you showed her another corner. “That’s my dad and his lover, Hyacinthus. That’s where the name of the flower came from. Isn’t that kind of sweet how he named a flower after him.”

“I mean didn’t Apollo kill – by accident – Hyacinthus?” she grimaced.

“Or Zephyrus was so jealous of my dad that he killed his lover, because he couldn’t get no man. My dad is an excellent archer. His aim never failed him. I don’t see how it’s possible for him to kill his lover. But gods being petty over these kinds of things, that I can believe.”

Clarisse hummed in agreement.

“But enough about my father’s love life,” you shrugged, turning around to face Clarisse, “what about your dad? Still desperately trying to woo someone else’’s wife?”

“I don’t want to talk about my dad,” she yawned, then closed her eyes.

“Okay.”

Just as you were about to continue talking, you noticed that Clarisse had fallen asleep. It was still early in the afternoon so it was still bright outside. You looked around and started to get up so you could pull the curtains but Clarisse grabbed your arm to pull you closer to her, locking you in her arms.

“Don’t go,” she mumbled.

“Okay,” you whispered and stayed still.

The thing was, Clarisse was like a human radiator. Sleeping in her arms felt exactly like sleeping under tons of heavy blankets. This much warmth only resulted in falling asleep in Clarisse’s arms. When you woke, you were alone in bed.

“Slacking off during work hours,” Lee said standing next to you.

“Fuck!” you jumped off bed. “Why were you staring at me sleeping!” you screamed.

“You weren’t there and it’s almost time for dinner. I’m being a nice brother!” he shouted back.

“Oh. Well, thanks!” you yelled, and gave him a smile.

You both left to join your siblings at the dining pavilion, and once you sat at your usual spot, you scanned the room in search of Clarisse. She was at her table like usual, and eating in silence, head hanging low. Your tactic of staring at her wasn’t working even though you knew she knew that you were staring at her.

“What are you doing?” Lee kicked you with his elbow. “Did something happen with Clarisse?” he whispered.

You shook your head.

“I mean,” you leaned in whispering, “we did sleep together.”

Lee’s eyes widened, mouth wide open and he backed away in shock.

“You– you slept together? In the infirmary?”

“Not slept together,” you rolled your eyes, “she fell asleep and did I.”

“Ah.”

“Anyways, she left without saying anything,” you explained. “And now, I feel like she’s avoiding me.”

“It’s only been a few hours.”

“She’s avoiding me, I’ve been staring at her for at least fifteen minutes and nothing. Not a glance from her.”

“Okay creep. But once again, just talk to her. It would solve all your problems here.”

“She’s the one who doesn’t talk. I talk. A lot!”

“Trust me, I know. I just don’t think Ares kids are the best at talking, you know.”

“Fine.”

But as it turned out, Clarisse mastered the art of avoiding people – you – when she wanted to. Whenever you tried to talk to her, she would disappear. After a few days of trying, you gave up and told everything to Lee.

“If she doesn’t want anything to do with me, then fine by me,” you frowned, holding back your tears.

“I’m sure you’re overthinking this,” he tried to comfort you.

“Oh please,” you huffed. “You saw what happened this morning when I tried to talk to her. I’ll get over it,” you whispered. “I’ll get over her.”

Lee considered himself your best friend, and favourite brother. You never said these things, but he considered you his best friend and favourite sister. And as your best friend he had to do something, he had to talk to Clarisse and give her a piece of his mind. So that night, he was a man on a mission. He walked to the Ares cabin, and waited for Clarisse to either go or or go out.

“Clarisse!” he called her name when she finally left her cabin.

“What do you want, Fletcher?” Clarisse sighed, clearly annoyed.

“Oh, so you do speak. And here I thought you lost that ability,” he snickered.

“I will punch you in the face.”

Lee rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“I’m not scared, unlike you.”

“What–.”

“You’re scared to talk to y/n for whatever reason, and I need you to pluck up the courage to talk to her because you’re making her miserable by avoiding her.”

“I–,” she froze.

Was she making you miserable?

“You’re just doing your thing and going to her when you need, when you want but have you ever thought about what she was thinking? No. You would if you’d just listened to her, but no,” he made a big gesture, “avoiding her like the plague.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she mumbled, looking away.

“I’m telling you that you made a mistake, and if you continue down this path you’re going to lose her for good. I’m not saying this for you, because I couldn’t care less about you, but y/n is my sister and I want her to be happy and for some reason you are making her happy,” he rolled his eyes, “so do whatever you want with this information.”

Clarisse stood there, not saying anything, watching Lee walking away. But then he stopped and turned around to walk toward her again.

“Before I forget,” Lee added before throwing his strongest punch in her face. “For making my sister cry.”

And he ran away, before Clarisse could punch him back. But Clarisse was too busy thinking about you to think about Lee and what he just did. If it weren’t for that afternoon in the infirmary, she probably would’ve ran to you so you could take care of her, but now, she couldn’t. So she went to sleep, wishing that tomorrow it’ll be better.

You were one of the first campers to arrive for breakfast. You ate slowly, and by the time the dining pavilion was filled with campers, you were done. But you stayed and listened to your siblings talk. Just as you were about to leave, Clarisse came in and you dropped your fork in shock. She had a black eye and her cheek was bruised, with her nose in a weird shape. She looked at you, as you stood urgently. But then you froze – should you go to her? You sat back down, still staring at Clarisse.

“What happened to her?” Will whispered to you.

“I don’t know,” you whispered back.

“You don’t? I thought you were friends.”

“Yea, me too,” you sighed.

Clarisse was walking to her table, dragging her feet along and when she walked past the Apollo table, you stood and grabbed hand, forcing her to face you. When you noticed several heads staring at you, you dragged Clarisse away and brought her to the archery field.

“What happened to your face?” you held her face in your hands.

“Nothing,” she leaned into your touch.

“Clarisse,” you whispered. “Just talk to me please.”

“Lee came to have a little chat with me yesterday.”

“He did this?” you gasped.

“Yeah.”

You held your hand to your mouth, in shock and to hide a tiny part of you that wanted to laugh.

“And?” you asked.

“He said I was making you miserable.”

“That’s not true!” you insisted.

“I ignored you. And I shouldn't have. I don’t–” she hesitated, “want to lose you,” she mumbled.

“Then just talk to me, we’re friends too.”

“I– I don’t know,” she stepped back and took a deep breath. “I was confused! I– I don’t know I like it when you take care of me,” she admitted in a low voice. “I’m being weird and–.”

“You’re not,” you held her arms. “It’s not weird to love physical touch. I mean, I just assumed that it was your love language you know.”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“I think what you like is when I hold you or when I touch you because you love physical touch,” you began, “and you were doing everything to visit me, pretending to be a bad fighter and getting hurt on purpose.”

“No that’s no–,” she shook her head.

“It’s fine! My love language is quality time, and there’s nothing wrong—.”

“No it’s different–.”

“It’s not! It’s fi—.”

“It’s because I like you,” she blurted out.

Oh. You couldn’t help but smile at her confession.

“It’s not funny!” she huffed, crossing her arms.

“I’m not laughing! I’m… happy about this outcome,” you rested your head against her arms and looked up. “Because I like you too Clarisse.”

“Really?” she stared at you.

You nodded.

“I’m sorry about ignoring you,” she added.

“Mmh,” you smiled, “I accept your apology. But you’ll have to make it up to me.”

“Anything you want.”

“A kiss?”

Clarisse uncrossed her arms and held your face instead and leaned in to kiss you eagerly. And you happily gave in, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“Mmh, keep doing that and I’ll forgive you, no doubt.”

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue fanfic #clarisse x you #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue pjo #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse la rue #pjo x reader #clarisse pjo #clarisse la rue x fem!reader

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auspicioustidings · 5 months

Note

Hello there I have another questionable idea 😁

So 141 confusing reader home for a safe house and breaking in and the sleep deprived nurse reader is just like 😐 and patches them up cos they are hurt and that’s the start of an very interesting relationship

Thank you for everything you are doing and remember that you are amazing

Drink water not coffee

🎃anon

Pumpkin! Ohh so this is similar vibes to this which I never wrote because sometimes I love a concept but am rubbish with execution :')

I have, however, tried my best to give you a little bit of your ask <3

Hippocratic Oath

Words: 550

Nah, for real if someone was breaking in you didn't care but they could at least be fucking quiet about it so you could go back to sleep. You had not slept in an actual bed in fucking days, only catching what could barely be described as a nap in the cots at the hospital between emergencies.

“Find a first aid kit, we need to get him stable!”

Oh come on. The people robbing you were injured? Stupid fucking hippocratic oath. Technically it said nothing about having to help people who had broken into your house, it just said you couldn't harm them. So if you laid here and ignored it then Apollo couldn't say shit.

…God fucking damnit. You dragged yourself out of bed, honestly too tired to react to the gun pointed at you with anything but a withering look, and went to pull the first aid supplies from their place.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“This is my house skull mask, who the fuck are you?”

There was a man with a mohawk bleeding all over your couch. You grumbled about that a little but dutifully knelt by him and started to cut the clothes around the problem area so you could clean it out and stitch him up. A heavy tactical vest was on the floor, leaving him in just a t-shirt. The other young man was pushing a wad of bandages to stem the bleeding. Good, he was doing a good job.

Kyle looked at Price who only furrowed his eyebrows and nodded, giving him permission to follow your instructions. So that's what he did.

“We get a bonnie medic with safehouses these days Captain? Cannae say I'm complaining.”

“Shush or you'll wind up biting your tongue off when I do the stitches” you said, prepping the needle and thread.

You looked quickly around his get up, seeing he was wearing jeans with a belt and undoing it.

“I've definitely seen a movie like this” the skull mask man said which you elected to ignore.

“Tell me more LT.”

You shoved the belt in the man's mouth and he took it between his teeth immediately. Not his first rodeo then. Made sense, they were probably soldiers. He was a model patient as you stitched him up, not squirming at all.

Your focus overrode your exhaustion for long enough to give each of the others a once over, making sure there wasn't anything else serious you needed to treat. By the time you got to the last man, the one your patient had called Captain, you were completely dead on your feet and your eyes were starting to sting.

“Thanks luv, c'mere.”

Being scooped up by some military man who had broken into your house really should have caused some sort of fight or flight response, but you had nothing else left to give. You were asleep before he even made it to the bedroom, putting you right back under the blankets.

–

Your alarm never went off and you frantically called in to work to let them know you'd be there as soon as possible only to be told in no uncertain terms you were on leave for at least the next week.

It was with some shock that you emerged from your room to find that dream wasn't as much of a dream as you thought.

“Let's have a little chat about the next week hm luv?”

Ah fuck.

#mhairianswers #mhairiwrites #cod #tf 141 x reader

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wardenparker · 2 months

Text

For Valentine's Day

Joel Miller x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit Word Count: 12.2k Warnings: Cursing, mentions of food and alcohol, taking care of a baby in the post-apocalypse, Ellie being a big sister, established relationship, mentions of breastfeeding, fingering, unprotected sex, praise, talk of birth control methods. Summary: You, Joel, Ellie, and Caroline arrive in Jackson to find the town getting ready to celebrate Valentine's Day. Notes: These darling dears were long overdo for a visit, so Happy Valentine's Day from the post-apocalypse! The rest of the 'For' series can be found on my Masterlist if you haven't read it yet!

Jackson is like another world. Joel is on edge, despite the friendly faces. Despite the relative safety of the town. He had been shocked to see Tommy here. Thriving, when Joel has lost so much to find him. To find that he isn’t needed. Although, he’s relieved to find a safe little spot for his baby girl and for you. Relieved that a comfortable house is available for you to rest in. It still baffles him to find an entire town getting ready for Valentine’s Day.

The trip was grueling, although all four of you made it in one piece. There were a hell of a lot of days that you weren’t sure if you would make it at all — but that wasn’t really an option. Not with Caroline sleeping on your chest in the homemade wrap carrier that Joel had helped you fashion out of ripped sheets you’d found and washed in an abandoned house along the way. You’ve been bonding with Ellie along the way, and she’s pretty good with Caroline, but your little girl is the reason you’ve been fighting so hard. Now that you’re in Jackson you don’t really know what’s going to happen with you and Joel. All you know is that you have four walls and a roof again, and Caroline is safe.

“Why are there so many hearts everywhere?” Ellie asks Joel, looking around as decorations are put up and the snow crunches under his new boots as he shoves his hands back in his pockets. “Holiday.” He grunts, sure that the kid is fucking with him. She seems to know all the old holidays anyway.

“Have you ever heard of Valentine’s Day?” Who knows what she learned in that FEDRA school back in Boston, or if anyone even thinks about Valentine’s Day anymore — outside of Jackson. You can't even believe that this town is decorating and getting ready for some mass celebration. It's surreal. And a little Hallmark. But in the post-apocalypse? It's amazing in a way you didn't even know you wanted.

“You mean that commercial holiday where men bought their ladies chocolate and flowers, took them on expensive dates?” Ellie asks with a smirk on her face. “You know, they said that soooooo many people proposed on Valentine’s Day. Or made babies.”

"That...is not wrong," you admit, ruffling her hair as you walk alongside the teen with little Caroline strapped to your front. "I guess the folks here are trying to keep as many older traditions alive as they can."

“So what are you going to do for Valentine’s Day?” Her voice takes on a sly, teasing tone and she cuts her eyes over to Joel, who’s shoulder seem inches higher than they just were. “Make a sibling for Caroline?”

"She already has a sibling." When the dubious teen wrinkles her nose at you in confusion, you knock her shoulder and offer her the warmest, softest smile. The real one — not one that teases or has expectations. "You, Ellie. You've been an amazing sister to her on this whole trip."

“Oh.” Her cheeks turn bright red and she ducks her head down slightly, but you don’t miss the proud look on her face. “She’s not so bad.” She huffs. “For a baby.”

"You're not so bad, either." A soft laugh escapes you, and you duck your own head to press a kiss to the top of Caroline's covered head. "For a teenager."

“The baby ready for a nap?” Joel asks. “It’s been a while.”

"We're almost home. I'll lay her down when we get in." The trip into town had been necessary, but Caroline had gotten fussy while Joel was talking to his brother and stepping outside had been practical. It's definitely naptime, no two ways about that. Especially not the way your little girl has been on the verge of tears for half the walk.

“Do you want me to hold her?” Joel asks. Knowing that it’s been a struggle keeping her calm and maybe you need a break.

"She might calm down a little for Daddy." Typically Caroline seems to find being held by Joel to be soothing or at least enough of a novelty to distract her from whatever was upsetting her, and you pause in your steps to carefully extract Caroline from her nest on your chest to hand over to Joel.

His hands are always gentle holding Caroline. As if he is scared to possibly hurt her or stain her with his blood-soaked hands. “Hey, baby girl.” He coos, smiling down at her tear-stained face. “Why so grumpy?”

His little girl — your little girl whimpers and moans a little but the tears stop flowing and you end up chuckling wryly under your breath. “I’m the one who brought her into the world and took care of her for months all alone and she’s still a Daddy’s girl. Go figure.” There’s no heat in it, no malice of any kind. After two months on the road together, you’re thrilled to see the pair of them still bonding so well.

"She's grumpy because she's yours." Ellie snorts, rolling her eyes and grinning when Joel cuts his eyes at her for a moment before looking back at Caroline. "See? Same grumpy looks."

“Like father, like daughter,” you tease, needling Joel’s arm with one finger.

He rolls his eyes and shuffles Caroline onto his shoulder, rubbing her back softly. “Come on, baby girl. Let’s get you out of the cold and into a clean diaper.” He murmurs. “Then we’ll see if you’ll get some sleep so you aren’t as grumpy as your old man.”

The house that was bestowed upon you is just a little further out from downtown and when the four of you get inside, Caroline’s trusty basket is right where you left it in the living room. “She’ll want to eat when she gets up, but I can manage that.” Managing to breastfeed here and there still works, but it’s good that there have been foods that Joel can feed her, too. “If you put her down, I can take care of her when she wakes up.”

“She had a rough night.” Joel argues softly. Caroline was a little under the weather, so she had been fussy. You had wanted to stay up with her, and now you look ready to drop. “Go take a nap and I’ll get her highness when she wakes up, okay?”

“Thank you, honey.” It’s an easy reflex to brush a kiss on Joel’s lips now, and you offer him a smile before pacing past him to fall into the bed that the two of you share upstairs.

Joel gently lays Caroline down, having a supply of cloth diapers and pins nearby. “Hey, baby girl. We’re gonna get you all clean and dry in just a minute.” He promises, finding it easier than he had imagined to fall back into a routine with taking care of a baby. It was decades ago, but he remembers soothing Sarah’s tears as he fought against diaper rash and colic with her.

“So.” Ellie smirks, leaning against the archway into the living room like the absolute picture of adolescence. “What’re you gonna do for her for Valentine’s Day?”

“Do for her?” Joel snorts, not looking up from his task since Caroline likes to pee on an unsuspecting victim when she’s being changed. “What do you mean?”

“The mother of your damn baby, Miller.” Ellie huffs, also as grumpy as her father figure. “There’s a whole holiday about love and romance and they celebrate it here.”

He frowns, realizing that you might have some kind of expectation given the atmosphere around town. “I’ve never been good at that kind of thing.” He admits.

“You can’t do nothing,” the teen argues, keeping her voice down so she won’t disturb the baby or be heard upstairs.

“Yeah.” He grunts, aware of that now. He has never really had to do Valentine’s Day. Unless you counted getting Sarah those boxed Valentine’s for her classes. “I’ll think of something.”

“What’s Tommy doing?” She might not know much about Joel’s brother, but she knows he has a wife and figures he must have a plan of some kind. “He might have an idea you can steal.”

“Haven’t asked.” Joel shrugs, carefully pinning the new diaper to Caroline with a slight frown.

“Probably should.” But Ellie shrugs. It’s no skin off her nose if the grumpiest old man in the world is bad at romance.

He pauses and looks up at Ellie suspiciously. “Has she said something to you?” He asks seriously.

“No.” If you had, she would have been kicking his ass about it a lot harder and a lot sooner. “But she deserves something nice. For like…putting up with us.”

You do put up with them. He snorts and lifts a brow. “Don’t you mean puts up with you?” He jokes. “She happens to like my grumpy ass just the way it is.”

“All the more reason to be nice.” As if he has proven her point completely, Ellie smirks. “Nice and romantic.”

“What do you know about romance, twerp?” He scoffs and shoots her a grin. “You’re too busy scaring off the girl that is interested in you.”

“S’not my fault your scary rubbed off on me,” she gripes in turn. “And you don’t know she likes me. Shut up.”

“You were scary before I met you, kid.” He chuckles, smirking slightly at the mortified expression on her face. “Maybe you’d find out if you didn’t run her off.” He suggests. “Talk to her.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t run off.” Ellie’s characteristic huff comes with a frown and a whole lot of blustering now that she’s the one being called out and she pushes away from the doorframe with a near-stamp of her feet. “Whatever, old man. I was trying to help you.”

“Yeah, you are.” He acknowledges with a grin. “Imma put her down and then run talk to Tommy. You good with listening out for her? She should sleep the entire time.”

“Fine.” Anything to end the torture, though Ellie does smirk that she might have given Joel a good kick in the ass.

He snorts to himself as he lifts a now sleepy Caroline to his shoulder. Patting her but as he moves over to her downstairs bassinet. It’s was odd, you had carried Caroline in a worn out sling and then luckily found a new one on the way, but supplies and space for them had been so limited, now his daughter has a downstairs sleeping area and one right in the room you share with Joel

******

“Well look what the cat dragged in.” Despite the cold, Tommy is out on his porch when he spots Joel walking up the road, and he leans over the banister with a dash of curiosity in his shit-eating grin. Any time his big brother comes to him for just about anything, he still considers it a win. “Back again so soon?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Joel shoots Tommy a half-hearted glare and shoves his hands in his pockets. “You got a minute?”

“Sure.” Tommy’s head bobs in agreement. “You wanna come in?”

“Maria home?” Joel asks, not quite sure if it’s a good idea. Tommy’s wife doesn’t seem to be his biggest fan and he can only assume it’s because his brother told his wife some of the things that Joel has done to protect the people he cares about over the years.

“Nah.” The younger Miller brother shakes his head and stands on creaky bones to open the door for them. “She’s got meetings today. I don’t pretend to know everything she has to deal with, but she comes home to a warm house and dinner on the table, so I guess I’m doing something right.”

“Well, ain’t you a good little house husband?” Joel snorts, busting his brother’s balls a little. The man had been a pain in his ass hellraiser when he was younger. Before outbreak. It’s nice to see him get to enjoy domesticity once again.

“Hell yes I am.” But Tommy snorts too, knowing it’s a far cry from the kid he used to be. As it turns out, the end of the world and the love of a good woman can change a man. “You think I’m not gonna do everything I can to keep that wife of mine? ‘Course I am.”

Tommy was always the optimist, something that Joel had lost after Sarah’s mother had left. He had been too busy trying to raise her right, and then he lost her. Joel frowns for a second and then nods. “And how are you doing that with this Valentine’s thing?”

“Not as easily as I would have before,” Tommy admits, but that’s also a pretty obvious thing to say. Nothing is as easy as it was before. “That cache of movies they’ve got has plenty to pick from and they’re screening…” He thinks for a second, hard, and shrugs. “Some damn 90s chick flick. I dunno, but she’s excited. And since she’s been eating carrots like a bunny with this pregnancy, I’m makin’ her a whole meal centered around it for dinner.”

“Carrots.” He snorts and smirks at his younger brother. “Your kid is gonna come out and say “what’s up doc?”.” He sniggers, imitating the cartoon character from long ago.

“At this point I wouldn’t be surprised.” It makes Tommy laugh though, and he puts a glass of water in front of Joel before pouring one for himself. “Watcha need?” He asks, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

“It’s about….” He looks down at the water and says your name. “The kid says I need to do something for her. For putting up with my shit.”

“Smart kid.” But still, Tommy frowns. “Are you…not together? Is that it? Or am I not gettin’ something here?”

“We were together one time.” Joel murmurs. “And we had a kid.” He shakes his head and looks back down at his hands. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the baby. Caroline is sweet and her momma-“ he sighs. “She’s too good for me really, but she wants to be with me.”

“Just one time?” An impressed and slightly disbelieving whistle escapes Tommy’s lips. “Do you…wanna tell me what happened? Or is that topic off limits?”

“You remember that supply run I made right after you left to go out west?” Even though he had been with the Fireflies, Joel had told Tommy his plans, hoping he would come along.

“Sure. You left the day after I did.” That had been the plan at the time, anyway. He can’t be sure that’s when Joel actually left.

“Came across her in an abandoned house.” He smirks slightly as remembers your surprise and his own reaction to your beauty. “Bunked down together for the night.”

“Ah.” The younger of the two men chuckles in acknowledgement. He can very easily see Joel trading sex the way he traded favors and sold drugs. “And she found you again? Afterward?” He guesses.

“She told me where she was from.” Joel explains. “After we got in trouble in the city and lost Bill’s truck, we headed there. Hoping that we could somehow find someone with a car.”

“And maybe hoping to run into her?” He doesn’t believe it happened by accident. That Joel hadn’t been thinking about you when he decided to go to wherever you were from. He knows his brother better than that.

“She had told me she was going west sometime.” He gives a half shrug, but that is why he had chosen to go so far out of his way.

"Cut the bullshit, Joel," Tommy smirks, knowing that his brother's ability to evade admitting to emotion is legendary. He's been like this for most of his life. Since his wife left. And that is what it is. But Tommy knows Joel well enough to know that he doesn't go out of the way for just anyone. "If you don't want to be with her that's one thing, but you protected her and that baby all the way from the east coast."

He could argue that he has an obligation to you because of the baby. Caroline is his daughter, but it’s just delaying the inevitable admittance of wanting to be with you. “So what the fuck do I do for her, Casanova?” He huffs, scowling at his brother and wondering why the fuck he came to him for advice. “She’s too fucking good for me and I know it. All the women in my life have been.”

“Well you’re taking her to the movie, right?” It’s not exactly a common thing to be able to do, and is therefore a pretty damn big special occasion in the world you all live in now. “Even if you didn’t do anything else, you gotta do that.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Joel likes movies, used to love them back in the days before the world burned. “She likes books, maybe I can try to find her favorite?”

“We made a library in town of all the books that were left in everybody’s houses,” Tommy tells him with a nod. “Same way we got all the movies we screen. If you’ve got a bookworm, I think a library card counts as romantic.”

“That night…” Joel looks down at his hands and smiles slightly at the memory. “She was reading a book to me that was sexy.” He huffs out a chuckle. “Guess she seduced me with her reading abilities.”

"Fell for brains, huh?" That makes his brother chuckle, and Tommy leans back in his seat with a grin. "Maybe you can talk to Jana — the woman who runs the library — and arrange a little date there? Rekindle a little romance?" He's trying to help as best he can, knowing that old chestnuts like taking you out for a fancy dinner or taking a little weekend trip away can't happen with the world the way it is. He could be patronizing and tell Joel to hurry up and make an honest woman of you, but that is also something that's changed in this world. Not everyone feels the need for the formality of a marriage anymore.

“That would be good.” Joel doesn’t sound completely convinced. “Although I’m sure jewelry would be better. Even now.”

With one eyebrow raised, Tommy cocks his head at his brother. “What kind of jewelry were you thinkin?”

“Somethin’ to celebrate Caroline. And give her something pretty.” Joel hadn’t quite thought it through but most women loved the thought of jewelry.

“Earrings? Necklace?” The way Tommy wants to pry is nearly a physical necessity at this point. “Whatever’s in the house you guys have moved into, wrap it up. Consider it our gift to you guys for being part of the town.”

“Was thinking about a necklace but I don’t know.” He frowns slightly. “Maybe a ring?” He looks up at his brother. “You didn’t remove the valuables from the house?”

“What’s jewelry worth in the apocalypse?” It’s something that only had to be worried about in the cities, it seems like. In the places where FEDRA still reigned. In the places where appearances still mattered. “We took the tools, the resources, split them all up evenly or kept them in reserve, depending on what they were. “Whatever water, food, warm clothing, shit like that? That’s what matters. Not jewelry.”

“True.” Joel shakes his head. “See why I’m not good at shit like this?” He huffs. “Too bad I can’t build her a stroller for the baby.”

“I mean I don’t think you would find very good suspension, but we can get you the stuff to build an old fashioned one.” Tommy snaps his fingers in quick succession, thinking hard. “What the fuck were they called? The one from black and white photos? Prambutrators?”

“Prams.” Why Joel knows that, he doesn’t have a clue. But like he was watching an old episode of Jeopardy, the answer falls from his lips easily.

“Strollers, but beds.” There’s a longer word for it, Tommy’s sure of that, but he shrugs it off. “You wanna do that for her? We can make it happen.”

“Might be a good idea.” Joel hums thoughtfully. “Especially since you’re about to have your own kid. “Need some way of transporting them when your back is aching.”

"It'll be a family heirloom," Tommy huffs, amusement makes his smile spread all over again.

Joel snorts and he taps the table. “I want to build it.” He decides. “I can find out about the library card and look for something pretty too. She did give birth to my daughter and took care of her alone until I saw her again.”

"So it'll be a big holiday." That seems to please the younger Miller, and he chuckles quietly. "She's a hell of a woman. And deserves it, if for nothing else than putting up with your ass."

Joel rolls his eyes and sighs softly. “I don’t know how much she puts up with me because of the kid and how much is because she’s insane for wanting me.”

"Oh, she's certifiable." Tommy can't help but laugh at that. "But it's obvious she loves you. For whatever that's worth. You can see it on her face."

He doesn’t see it, but he might still be in that stage of disbelief. “I better get back.” He pushes the chair back and stands with a groan. “Told her I’d get Caroline when she woke up. She had a long night with her last night so she’s taking a nap too.”

"Ellie's with the baby now?" It's obvious to everyone else in the world that Joel has taken in the teenager with the same ferocity that he's taken to his infant. It's who he is.

“Yeah.” He can’t help the soft smirk on his face as he thinks about the two of his three girls. “She’s taken on the role of big sister pretty well.”

"Sometimes you gotta get thrown in the deep end to figure out how to swim." Standing with his brother, Tommy claps Joel on the shoulder. "Go get back to 'em. We'll get your building supplies tomorrow."

“Thanks.” Joel’s shoulders relax slightly and he shakes his head. “Still can’t believe we’re gonna have kids that grow up together.”

“Musta done something right to deserve it,” Tommy laughs, the edge of disbelief in his voice obvious. “Can’t figure out what the fuck it was, but it must’ve been good.”

“I— I never actually congratulated you.” Joel murmurs after a moment. He had been a little raw when he realized Tommy had been living a charmed life here and he had lost so much, Tess, Bill and Frank, another piece of his soul, on his way to rescue him. Then Tommy’s disbelief about Caroline and his own budding joy about fatherhood had brought up the loss of Sarah. It hadn’t been pretty, but he had regretted his harshness. He reaches out a hand, hard from the man he had become and the work he had done, to shake Tommy’s. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks.” The handshake, warm and firm and full of things the Miller brothers aren’t very good at saying out loud, makes Tommy falter and clear his throat a little to push away the emotion. “I, uh…I’m doing my best. And that’s all I can do. Because Maria and the baby deserve the world, but the world is pretty fucked up these days.”

“It’s always been fucked up.” Joel corrects. “Now it’s just more obvious.” He lets go of the hand and shuffles slightly.

“Fair enough, I guess.” Tommy chuckles, but he rubs his hand on the back of his neck. “Did you…need anything else?”

Joel shuffles again and feels like a teenager. “Do any - uh, is there birth control available?” He asks, not wanting to get you pregnant again. At least not now. Although that afterthought shocks him.

A sort of lopsided smirk forms on Tommy’s face, and he chuckles — the sentiment clear as day. “The ladies have developed some interesting but not full proof methods. It’s sort of frontier-style out here. In that regard and a lot of others.”

“Yeah.” Joel nods and sighs. “I’m fucking fifty-six years old, Tommy.” He huffs. “Don’t need to be knockin’ her up every time I’m feelin’ frisky.”

“For her sake way more than yours.” Tommy laughs again. “I’d go see the Doc,” he advises. “She was a general practitioner before the world went to shit, so now she’s our town doc.”

Joel nods, knowing that it needs to be done. Tess couldn’t have anymore kids, so it had never been a problem. You’ve only had sex a few times since being in Jackson, and every time, Joel had pulled out the second you had cum so he could jerk off.

“Sounds like you’re planning a damn good Valentine’s Day,” Tommy teases.

He snorts, shrugging slightly and the slight grin on his face is purely male. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been this relaxed. And she’s a damn beautiful woman, who loves me.” He admits, proud of that fact.

“If you’re relaxed with a baby around, that’s proof she’s not your first.” Shaking his head once more, Tommy slaps Joel hard on the shoulder. “Go home to ‘em. I’ll see you tomorrow with the stuff you’ll need to build.”

“Thanks.” He sends Tommy a grateful look and quickly slips out the door. Eager to get back to you, Caroline and Ellie. Even though Jackson is safe, he feels better when you are close.

******

Ellie is sitting beside Caroline’s bassinet in the living room when Joel gets home. Her old, weathered joke book is in her hands and she glances up when the door opens to let Miller inside. “Shhh,” she puts one finger to her lips performatively and whispers. “She’s so fuckin cute when she sleeps.”

“Yes she is.” Joel can agree as he quietly walks over to the bassinet. “She slept the entire time?” He asks the other girl, proud of how easily she’s bonded with her. Despite not like diaper changes, Ellie loves Caroline and would often ask to hold her when you had stopped for the night.

"She fussed a little," Ellie admits, but she holds up her book. "I giggled her off to sleep."

“More like bored her to sleep.” Joel snorts. “You certain she’s still breathing?” He jokes, even though he can see that she is, it’s simply for the pleasure of watching Ellie scowl at him.

"Caroline thinks I'm funny." The teenager defends, though she knows making a baby laugh isn't too hard in the first place. "Even if you don't share our refined sense of humor."

“Yeah.” He huffs and rolls his eyes, resisting the urge to smirk. “Keep telling yourself that, cupcake.”

“Shouldn’t be surprised.” Though it comes with a huff, Ellie keeps her voice down. Caroline is sleeping, after all. “We’re cuter than you, too.”

He shoots Ellie a look that is half amused. “That’s not hard to do.” He admits. “But I’m smarter…..and meaner.”

“You wouldn’t be mean to us.” Ellie bats her eyelashes dramatically, knowing fully fucking well that Joel can be mean. That he has been mean. But never to the baby.

“No, I wouldn’t.” He might have been at one point to the older girl, but now he would die protecting her. “Did you know there’s a library in town?”

“There is?!” Her voice jumps up at that and she immediately ducks as though her volume were some kind of tangible weapon that she needs to get away from the baby immediately. “There is?” She hisses quietly instead.

“Yeah.” Joel chuckles at the way Ellie’s eyes light up. You aren’t the only one with an affinity for reading. “Planning on going over tomorrow to get a card. Wanna come?”

“Hell yes.” The teenager nods with enthusiasm. “Is it a big library?” He must have heard about it from Tommy, which means it’s worth bragging about. Tommy Miller loves to brag about Jackson.

“It’s filling up a store, so it has to be big.” Tommy had told him where to go. “They compiled all the books in town and any they brought in.”

"You're on, old man." Ellie hops up off the sofa, apparently having thought of something either extremely important or just imminently elsewhere that she needs to be. "I hope you're ready to carry books back, cause I'm getting out as many as they'll let me."

“Bring a bag, brat.” He reaches out to swipe her head with his hand, to mess up her ponytail, but she ducks. “Where are you going?” It’s a safety question, even though the town is safe. He still wants to know.

"Upstairs." She assures him. "I'm not leaving after dark."

“Good.” Joel lifts a brow. “Keep it that way. Even though it’s safe here, shit can happen.”

"I know." She agreed to follow Joel's rules, and she meant it. Even if he can be a complete nag sometimes, she knows by now that he is the one person to trust over anybody else in her life. Joel said not to go out after dark, so she doesn't. End of story.

“Thank you.” Joel relaxes slightly and rolls his shoulders back after Ellie agrees to stay close. “Don’t say anything to her about the library card.” He cautions her. “It’s gonna be a surprise.” He hopes you haven't heard about the library yet, but if you have, you haven't had time to get a card or you would have been raving about it.

“Got it.” The teen smirks and heads for the stairs.

Joel rolls his eyes again and looks down at Caroline softly before taking off his jacket and boots. He's comfortable here, and its a surprise to find out how quickly he could readjust back to fatherhood. He takes the soiled diaper from earlier and brings it over to the bucket that you keep them soaking in. Deciding that he will wash them so they can hang dry in the kitchen overnight. Having a baby in a post apocalyptic world is kind of like having one in frontier times, in his opinion. A lot more work, and those conveniences he had taken for granted with Sarah are a thing of the past.

******

It’s been a hell of a long time since you could feel safe enough to nap, but Jackson is unique in that it actually feels safe. When you wake up it’s after dark and the house is quiet — which really just means that Caroline is quiet. Joel and Ellie habitually keep their voices lower and their steps lighter because the instinct of having to stay hidden is so ingrained. The fact that there’s no sound from downstairs now is a good thing. Hopefully Caroline has managed to nap and Joel can do…whatever Joel is doing.

Joel stirs the pot on the stove, throwing together a stew to eat. The leftover vegetables from last year’s growing season were all canned, but he was grateful for them nonetheless. When he hears you on the stairs, he pokes his head out of the kitchen. “Got some tea ready.” He calls out softly.

"You're perfect," you hum with a grateful sigh, stretching languidly on the last step before you hit the bottom floor. The air of domesticity here is deep, in a way that could almost make you forget what the world outside is like. At least for a little while.

“You just love that I’ve learned how to make your tea.” He snorts and leans over to press a kiss to your forehead when you drift by him on the way to the counter for the cup he has set out.

"I'm appreciative." For so, so many things that Joel does. Not being the only person in charge of Caroline's survival and happiness as well as your own has lifted an enormous burden from your shoulders and you can only hope that you have helped him in even a fraction of the same way. "Thank you, honey."

“Of course.” He nods and turns back to the stew. “Figured I’d make some dinner, we still have half a loaf of that oat bread.” He shakes his head. “Amazing how we are actually eating bread….Considering.”

“We’re all eating like hippies,” you joke, leaning in to Joel’s side as he stands at the stove. It’s a comfort just to be close to him, and you’re much closer now than you were even weeks ago. “Anything but wheat flour.”

“That’s true.” He chuckles and reaches around you to snag your waist.

“Thank you for letting me nap.” A perfect rest is one you get to take together, but those were few and far between on the road. Now that you’re in Jackson, being able to sleep next to him every single night is an absolute luxury.

“You’re welcome.” Joel leans in and brushes his nose against your cheek. “You were up with her last night, you deserved to rest.” He reminds you. “I got the diapers washed. They are hanging up on the back porch.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” He’s been such a huge help, and even helped you get a better rhythm even in your one-on-one time with Caroline.

“Are you asking or lamenting?” He jokes and pats you on the butt gently. “So I talked to Tommy.” He murmurs. “There’s a doctor in town that we should go see.”

“Are you not feeling well?” Concern is written on your face instantly, eyebrows drawing up in worry.

“No, nothing like that.” He instantly replies, trying to ease your fears. “They have some….methods of birth control.” He feels his own cheeks heating up because of bringing this up. “If you— I mean, if we’re— you know— uh—”

"Oh." He's blushing, and that's just about the most adorable thing you've ever seen. "Then yes. We should definitely go see that doctor."

“I just— I don’t want you to— not if—” he’s never been great with words and he just shrugs after a moment. “I don’t think you should be havin’ another baby right now.” He murmurs. “I know back before everything, they told my….ex, that she should wait at least three years before another baby and fuck- by then I’ll be sixty fuckin’ years old.”

"Honey..." Turning into Joel's side completely, you tip your head back to offer him a smile and put your other arm around his waist to hold him close. "We'll do our best to keep up with effective birth control. We'll be as safe as we can be. Sometimes...sometimes things just happen. We know that. We have the result of that, sleeping in the other room. Family planning doesn't exactly work the way it used to."

“No, it doesn’t.” He leans in and presses his lips to yours. “But I want you to be healthy, not worn out because my pullout game isn’t the best.”

"If it happens again, we'll love them just as much as we love Caroline." You are absolutely certain of that, without hesitation. "And if it doesn't? She's already got one fantastic big sister around to help take care of her, and another big sister that she can hear stories about whenever Daddy is willing to tell them."

“I—” he bites his lip and shakes his head. “It’s been-“ air whooshes out of his lungs. “A long time since I’ve been called that.” Caroline being alive and healthy makes the last time he heard that particular phrase only bittersweet, the ache in his heart still there, but it doesn’t bleed this time. “I still can’t believe I have her some days.”

"We're lucky to have you, Joel." That is something you believe with all of your heart, even on the bad days and the hard days and the days when it all feels like too much. "All three of us."

“Everything changed.” Joel acknowledges. “But I’m glad I could keep the three of you safe. Get you here.” He tilts his head. “Do you know how far we are from your family land?”

"The last I heard from anybody, they were actually on the outskirts of Jackson." Having been too afraid to ask, you've kept it to yourself that you might actually have a family home out here with sentimental things that once belonged to your cousins. "I have the address, but...I assume that since the street isn't part of new Jackson, it must be either wrecked or overgrown."

“Do you want me to ask around?” He asks quietly, squeezing your hip gently. “See if I can get out there?”

"Honestly, if it's still around? I would want to go too. But I don't want to risk taking Caroline out to somewhere dangerous again." You shake your head at that idea, not liking it at all. "Not when she's finally safe again."

“No.” Joel is immediately shaking his head. “Our daughter stays behind the walls.” He insists, voice flat and final. Even though you don’t want to take her out, Joel wouldn’t allow it.

“Never a sentence that I thought I would find comforting, but here we are.” The two of you stand silently for a long moment before you sigh. “I know there’s probably nothing left of them,” you repeat, hating how final that is after everything. “But I’d rather know for sure. There might be a memory or two left in the house.”

“Then we will go.” Joel hates that you haven't found any of your people yet, although they may just not be around much. It’s a vain hope, but he has it for you.

“And we’ll go see the doctor.” That’s a more pressing trip, if you’re honest with yourself. Any birth control at all would be useful, even if it’s only by a little.

“I don’t have to be inside you.” Joel murmurs softly, knowing that as much as he loves your cunt around you, your health is more important.

“There are plenty of ways to be intimate.” With one hand on his chest, you rub small, soothing circles there for a second and kiss his jaw before his lips. “But we’re still going to go see that doctor. I like having sex with you too much to just give it up cold turkey.”

He huffs out a small laugh and he smirks at you. “Got addicted, huh? Even when you sometimes have to ride?”

“Don’t be so smug.” An attempt to frown or even look somewhat stern fails you, though, and you end up throwing a matching smirk back at him. “I…like that we don’t go our separate ways the next morning.”

“You and Caroline, Ellie…” he pulls you closer. “You’re all that matters to me. Keeping you safe.”

Cup of tea and simmer stew pot long forgotten, you turn in Joel’s arms to face him fully and put your arms around his neck. “We love you too, handsome. All of us. In very different ways.”

He grumbles slightly but he doesn’t argue. Knowing that it’s useless to argue with you. “Yeah, yeah.”

You hum, grinning that he doesn’t protest it anymore, and kiss the tip of his nose. “You’re cute when you blush.��

He rolls his eyes and his hands slide down to your ass. “Yeah? You’re cute when you’re naked underneath me and chanting my name over and over again.”

“Joel…” A knot in your belly forms instantly, making you squeeze your thighs together in turn.

He grins at you and winks. “Good thing you took that nap, huh?” He teases softly. “Now you need to eat a good meal to make sure you won’t pass out on me from hunger.”

“This,” you huff, laughing at the way the two of you have just clicked back together so easily over the last few months. “This is why we need that doctor. We’re too horny for our own good.”

“Kind of hard to fuck on the road.” He reminds you with a laugh of his own. “Now we have a bed, a door that locks.”

“And a real mattress and box spring for that old man back of yours.” Not that you don’t appreciate it too, of course. But of the two of you, Joel definitely has more aches and pains.

“Damn right. And the bed is comfortable.” He snorts, remembering that shitty, worn out mattress he had in Boston. “Did I mention that Ellie isn’t sleeping three feet from us?”

“And we don’t have to worry about Caroline rolling or crawling away, or any of a million other things.” The fingers of one of your hands thread into his hair and you hum as you press yourself against him right there in the kitchen. “Of course, there’s also the kitchen counter…”

The way his cock twitches in his pants is a good indication that he had been thinking along those lines too. “Kid’s upstairs, reading.” He grunts, pressing his lips under your ear just like he’s discovered makes you shiver. “Baby’s asleep. If we make it quick, we can do it.”

“I should just stop wearing pants around you,” you tease, already shifting both of you backward so that you’re the one pressed up against the counter. “So we can be as fast as we want.”

“We can always find you some skirts.” He hums, sliding his hands down to your jeans and around the front to unbutton them. “When you’re inside Jackson. I wouldn’t want you to wear them outside the walls.” He says seriously, frowning slightly at what could possibly happen. Clickers or humans.

The soft chuckle that escapes you is a little rougher than usual just because he's shoving your jeans down your hips, but you still shrug your shoulders. "We're horny, not stupid. Skirts are only for when it's safe."

Joel has become a little feral now that your relationship has progressed back to physical. There’s something about you being the mother of his child that seriously gets Joel going. He had never had that since his ex had disappeared out of his and Sarah’s life so early, but he was not upset with the discovery. Your body was softer, marked by motherhood and he found it incredibly sexy. “Then you need to see the doctor.” He growls. “Because I might just bend you over a table every time Caroline naps.”

He barely has your jeans pulled off in time for you to hop up on the counter, legs open for him to fill the space between even as you start to work open the belt he wears day in and day out. Frenzied kisses take up the space where there could be more words, but oxygen is precious when you're doing your damnedest to drown in each other while your baby girl sleeps.

Most intimate moments were rushed, quiet and out in the open. Using his fingers on you to give you pleasure while the girls slept. Because of that, he knows exactly how to touch you to make sure you are wet.

"Joel—" You have to bite back a whine the second his fingers find you, already wet and aching just from talking about sex and not even from him touching you. Hell, kissing him is still enough to make your cunt bottom out and you hope that never changes.

“That’s it, baby.” Joel growls against your neck softly. “Want that pretty pussy nice and wet. You want to cum before I fuck you? Or do you want to cum on my cock?” He swirls his fingers around your clit and then presses them into you to curl up and strike against that spongy spot deep inside near your cervix.

You could protest that there isn’t time for two, but you know Joel would make it happen. He’s learned your body fast, and how to wring pleasure out of you as fast or as slow as he wants to. “O—on you,” you manage to pant out two coherent words and try for a few more. “Want to cum on your cock, Joel. Please?”

“I love when you beg, baby.” He groans, having heard so many people beg him over the years. Often for their lives when there’s no saving them, but this is what he loves. You, begging for him to make you feel good. “You’ll cum on my cock, baby. All over it.”

“Always do.” The way you shift forward on the counter is proof of how eager you are, in case he wasn’t sure. Every time you shift or roll your hips, his fingers stroke that spot again and you have to bite back a moan.

“I know you do.” He grunts, unbuttoning his pants to pull his hard cock out. “Always so good for me.”

It goes back to the first time he called you his good girl, and you know it. That was the moment you called it quits on any resistance whatsoever. “Always. Fuck, always, baby.”

Joel smirks and pumps his cock, listening to make sure that the kid isn't coming downstairs. He doesn't want to scar her, but he doesn't want to wait to get you upstairs. He groans when he has to pull his fingers out of you and hums. "You ready?"

"I don't think there's ever a time when I'm not." You nod enthusiastically, glancing up at the closed door that leads from the kitchen to the living room, and when no sound can be heard from your sleeping daughter you look back to Joel. "Take what you want, baby. I'm just along for the ride."

It only takes a moment to notch himself at your entrance, his lips fused with yours as he starts to push inside you. Loving how tight you immediately squeeze his cock inside your walls.

Every sound you have gets poured into that kiss, muting your moans and whines so they don't echo through the house. In this position the best thing you can do is hang onto the counter and let Joel take what he wants — exactly as you said — and that kiss is another perfect way to stay connected to him as he starts to move.

There’s a perfect rhythmic pace he can keep that doesn’t hurt his back and still keeps your toes curling in their socks. He’s tested it, although he never told you and he uses that pace now. Holding onto your hips as he rocks into you again and again, swallowing your moans greedily as he basks in your utter want of him.

One hand has to move to his shoulder, clutching his shirt as he fucks into you hard enough that it feels like he's stealing your breath but not so hard that you'll end up walking funny and give away what you've been up to. No doubt Ellie has noticed by now, but there's no reason to rub it in. There's just nothing better than basking in Joel's full attention. In being his sole focus. lt's like coming home.

Once he’s broken away from your lips, there’s not a part of your exposed skin that Joel doesn’t kiss. Loving to nibble and kiss along your neck and chest. Inhaling the milky scent of your breasts, heavier since Caroline is due for a feeding when she wakes up. Though he doesn’t touch them, knowing they need to be left alone for his child. “Fuck.”

"So good." With his ear right by your mouth, you can just gasp and sigh right there for only him to hear. "Always fuck me so good."

“This little pussy was made for me.” Joel grunts, loving how you spasm around him when he pours filth into your ears. Sometimes his fingers and words get you off so quickly, he’s amazed you haven’t been worked up all day. “Squeezin’ me so tight.”

"Can't help it," you chuckle low in his ear and have to bite back a gasp when his hips hit yours sharply. "Your cock's just so fucking big.'

He snorts and twitches inside of you at the breathless praise. “You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” He asks, moving one hand down so he can rub your clit as he thrusts into you.

"'M close, baby." The breathless promise comes on a whine and you have to work to not just let your mouth hang open and Joel's rhythm picks up and the broad pad of one of his thumbs skates over your slick, swollen clit. "So fucking close, oh god."

His teeth snap together, breathing heavily and his face is almost set in a determined frown. Watching you as his hips shuffle forward to fill you again and again. Loving how your body heaves and lurches every time he swipes his fingers over your clit, almost overstimulated - you’re so close. “Be my good girl, baby.” He growls. “Cum for me.”

Whether you’re responding to his praise or to the near overstimulation is anyone’s guess, but it’s only a moment later that your legs start to tense and shake around his waist and your mouth falls open in a silent sob as you come apart for him.

The heat, the pressure around his cock is exquisite as you start to cum. The rush of wetness helps him move when your walls squeeze tight and he loves the nearly non existent sound you make. Taking his hand off your hip, grabbing the back of your neck and dragging your lips back to his as he fucks you through your orgasm.

These are the times — mid orgasm with a foggy brain and no filter for your thoughts — that you wish Internally for another baby. Accident or planned, it doesn’t matter to you. It’s just that flash of a thought as your climax washes over you that you know will subside again but it makes you hold onto his kiss that much tighter. Grateful for what you do have. For him and for Caroline, above all.

He feels your body relax, going boneless as he continues to batter against your fluttering walls. He’s close but he can’t pull out just yet. “Fuck.” He groans. “So pretty when you cum.” The praise is whispered against your lips.

“Just for you,” you promise in a shaky breath, practically gulping down air as the intensity of your orgasm subsides.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He hisses, regret lacing his tone because he’s having to pull his hips back. Letting go of you and wrapping his hand around his cock as he starts to quickly jerk himself off, the other hand poised to catch the mess so there isn’t a huge cleanup of the counters.

If you could have gotten there quickly, you’d be on your knees to catch every last drop, but you definitely move a little bit slower after he’s just gotten done fucking you — mostly just because your legs are jelly. Instead you watch Joel with dark eyes, satisfied temporarily but always wanting. It’ll be another few hours before he can even think of going again, but that doesn’t mean you won’t daydream about him.

It’s not as satisfying as when he’s buried to the hilt inside, but he can’t risk it, can’t risk you. Clenching his jaw, he hisses slightly as he stops stroking his cock, panting as he looks up at you and leans in to kiss you once more.

“I love you.” Simple words, but loaded with so much emotion that you sigh a little after saying them. “So much, Joel.”

“I love you too.” He promises, pulling back to take his cum filled hand to the sink to wash before he gets a rag for you. “Don’t ever think I don’t.”

“Well it was a little touch and go there while we weren’t anywhere near each other,” you tease, flashing him a grin. “But I don’t anymore. I promise.”

Snorting, Joel rolls his eyes at you and after washing his hands, he soaps up a rag and comes back over to you to clean you up. “Hush.” He grumbles, biting his lip as he spreads your thighs again.

“Never.” Instead your grin widens and you steal another kiss while he cleans you up. Only after that do you carefully hop down from the kitchen counter to pull your clothes back on.

Right as you are buttoning your pants, he hears the first little squawk from Caroline and grins. “I’ll change her.” He tosses the rag into the diaper pail to soak. “Drink your lukewarm tea before you come feed her.” He orders, kissing your temple before he walks out of the kitchen, already buttoned and buckled back up.

“Yes, sir.” There’s not even any point to protesting. You just pick up your tea and admire his ass as he strides out of the room.

Caroline is definitely feeling better, waving her arms and squealing when she sees Joel. The bubbly, happy grin on her adorable face never fails to bolster his spirits, which are always pretty high after being intimate with you. “Just like your momma.” He teases as he picks her up with a grunt. “Always squealing.”

With the door open it isn’t really difficult, but you still lean out from the kitchen and huff just loudly enough for him to hear. “I heard that.” Not that he’s wrong. Not at all.

Joel chuckles, nudging his nose against his daughter’s cheek and listening to her gurgle. “You were supposed to, baby.” He tells you, grinning at Caroline when he pulls back. “You were supposed to.”

******

Joel spends a decent portion of the next few days out of the house, helping Tommy with some vague project that you don't think much of. He had taken Ellie with him once but she has been mainly at home with you. The town is enjoying their preparations for Valentine's Day at the end of the week, and from time to time you've found yourself daydreaming about Joel doing something spontaneously romantic but you aren't expecting anything. It's not as though he can pop into a jewelry store or go down to the sweet shop for chocolates. Even flowers aren't really on the docket these days. It doesn't matter. Not really. All that matters is that he comes home safe every night, and Joel definitely does that.

It had been a pain in the ass, but the pram is finished; even Tommy is impressed with the final product and Joel had used some stuffing from cushions to make a padded layer on the bottom to make it more comfortable for Caroline. It’s got a back that can be adjusted to tilt up for when she’s older and a cover for the sun or rain. Now, he’s just waiting on the varnish to dry and it will be ready.

It’s late morning when he comes back from Tommy’s today, looking as pleased with himself as Joel ever does, and your plan to go down to Jackson’s seamstress to inquire about a skirt or dress goes by the wayside immediately. “Hey handsome.” Out on the porch with Caroline against your chest, you wave to him when you see him approach.

“Hey.” He climbs the steps with only a slight protest from his knees and gives Caroline a quick kiss before letting his own linger on your lips for a moment. “So, they are having a movie tonight for the celebration.” He reminds you, as if that’s not been the topic of the town for days.

“Did you want to go?” He hasn’t mentioned it at all so you wondered if maybe he was ignoring Valentine’s altogether.

“Was thinking that if you wanted to go, we could.” He shrugs one shoulder and shuffles his feet as he reaches into his jacket pocket. “Unless you want to stay home and read.”

“Read what?” You’re looking at his face, not his hands, and it takes an enigmatic smile from Joel before you glance down and see a very official card sitting in his hand. It’s a business card for the old Jackson public library, printed and crisp, but when he flips it over you see your name scrawled there in beautiful cursive and gasp. “What is this?”

“There’s a town library.” Joel explains. “They collected all the books out of the houses and any they brought back from scouting missions.” He smiles. “Thought you might like to go browse and check some out.”

“Honey.” Instantly your arms are around him, squeezing him into your side so you can show him how grateful you are without crushing Caroline between you in the process. “This is incredible. A library? That’s — it’s so sweet of you.” The grin on your face is wide, spreading to overtake you by the second. It might not be just anyone’s perfect Valentine’s gesture, but it’s definitely yours. “Thank you, love.”

He huffs in relief that you aren’t upset at his gesture. “You’re welcome. I knew you would want to read some more.”

“I wonder if they gathered up all the kids' books, too?” More bedtime stories for Caroline would be amazing as she gets older. Right now lullabies still do it when she’s fussy, but you don’t expect that to last much longer.

“I’m sure they have. Which will be amazing for Caroline.” He had read to Sarah from the time she was a baby and wonders if they have some of the books he had read to her. It would be a little tradition to read them to his other daughter.

“Thank you,” you murmur again, leaning against him and pressing a kiss to his cheek before you look down at your daughter. “Can you say thank you Daddy? For being awesome and loving us so, so much?”

“You have to come with me to get the next present.” He snorts, enjoying the way that Caroline automatically coos and waves her arms.

“There’s a next present?” Your head tilts in curiosity and a smile cracks across your face again. “Mr. Miller, you’ve been busy.”

“Not like I can get you flowers or chocolates.” He’s embarrassed by the surprise in your voice and he shrugs.

“You didn’t have to do anything at all. I still know you love me.” The thing about Valentine’s Day is that it has been so surprising to see it revived. It isn’t necessarily as surprising that he is embracing it. Not when he’s working so hard to relieve the sins of his past and whatever happened with Sarah’s mother.

“I know.” He picks up the backpack you had started using as a diaper bag for the baby and glances at you. “You want to carry her? Or do you want me to get our little princess?”

“I’ve got her for now, she’s comfortable.” Sometimes the biggest thing really is her comfort, so you’re not going to disturb your little girl for right now. “Where are we going?”

“Tommy’s workshop.” He picks up her little blanket and throws it over his arm. “Hopefully you like it, it’s more of a practical gift.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it.” If he thought of it? Put care and love into just thinking that you will appreciate it? Then whatever it is will be perfect.

Like all babies and families with babies, it takes a few minutes to get going. The pram should be completely dry, the fans blowing on it and he wonders if you will like to. Sure he could have tried to find one at an abandoned store, but for him, it was about making something. It had been a long time since he had done that and it had felt pretty good.

“Ellie seems like she’s adjusting okay to being back in school.” The walk over to Tommy’s doesn’t take long, and you’re curious to see what he’s been up to with his brother.

“She’s enjoying the school having zero to do with FEDRA.” Joel agrees. “I think she likes the days they take care of the livestock the best. She loves animals.”

"She loves them and she's great with them." Your free hand slips into Joel's while you walk, enjoying the sunny, clear day in spite of the cold. "That's a hell of a valuable skill set in this world. Keeping the livestock happy and healthy is vital."

“Yes it is.” Joel nods. “Tommy and John think they might have gotten that old grist mill working.” He tells you in passing. “The kids are going to have a class on that, come next week.”

"Everything but wheat flour," you joke with a shake of your head. "Although that oat bread was pretty good. John's got a good thing going in that bakery he set up."

“Exactly and there’s a sack of barley seeds they want to plant and make cornmeal.” He has been impressed with Jackson so far and wants to stay here. There’s no reason to go back to Boston and he would never put his daughter under FEDRA control.

Squeezing his hand, you smile up at Joel and cradle Caroline with your other hand. "It's nice here."

“It is.” There are moments where Joel doesn’t trust it, he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for the ugliness to infect Jackson, but he wants this to be a haven, for you and Ellie and Caroline. Especially for Caroline. He wants her to be able to grow up without being exposed to the rawness of the outside world as much as possible. To give her a chance at normalcy. “You want to stay, sweetheart?” He asks quietly.

"I can't imagine any place being better for us." On your chest, Caroline is looking around her with the characteristic wonder of an infant, and you grin and place a kiss on her little tuft of hair. "Your brother is here, there's reliable shelter and food. Ellie is safe to the point where she's enjoying school. It's...I'm not going to call it perfect but it feels like spitting in the face of the universe if we just walk away."

“I feel like the other shoe is going to drop, but it’s also the most relaxed I’ve been in years.” Joel admits. “I’ve- there’s more to worry about than me. And I’ve worried a lot since Lake City.” He had tried to hide the panic attacks, but you had seen signs of them. “I think we should stay.”

"You're entitled to worry." It's just a quiet reminder, but it's important that Joel remember that he has permission to feel whatever way he feels about things. Having a family and being a protector in this environment is a stressful thing. "But you're also entitled to be happy."

“That’s the hard part of this to swallow.” Joel admits, squeezing your hand gently. “It’s alright, baby. I want to stay, if you do.”

"If not for us, then for the girls." That's really the key here, and you pick up his hand to press a kiss to the back of it. "I would follow you anywhere. But they deserve whatever childhood we can give them."

“Yes they do.” The door to Tommy’s shop is just up ahead and he smiles slightly. “Hopefully this next gift will help that. At least for one of them.”

"What did you do?" At this point you're too curious not to feel bubbly about it, and you desperately wish the younger Miller brother's workshop had good windows.

“You’ll see.” He chuckles at your curiosity and lets go of your hand so he can open the door. “After you.”

"Come on, baby," you murmur to Caroline, grinning as you duck into the workshop.

Sitting in the middle of the space is a beautifully put together and obviously handmade perambulator, with a padded cloth bottom and a sun visor that...seems to be moveable as well as handcrafted. "Oh my god..." you breathe, stepping into the room further and bending over the pram with tears in your eyes. "Baby...did you make this?"

“I know I could probably find one, somewhere…” Joel can’t tell if you love it or hate it, so he shuffles slightly. “But I wanted to build one that you could use for a long time.”

"Honey, it's beautiful!" The tears in your eyes are pure love and gratitude, and you backtrack immediately to give him a kiss before going to inspect the pram that he put together with his own two hands. "It—it's incredible. You...how long did this take you?"

“It’s what I’ve been working on this week.” Joel explains, walking over to it to show you the shade and how it can flip down to become a basket to put things in.

"I can't believe you did this." There is such a wonder in your voice. Awe and love, and shock that anyone would put this much work into such an enormous gesture.

“Figured she was going to get too busy and too fidgety to haul around on your chest all the time.” He tells you. “Plus it can sit up when she’s really moving.”

"Do you want to see what Daddy made you, honey?" Caroline keeps reaching for the pram like she knows it's hers, and you look to Joel hopefully. "Is it ready for her to try out?"

“Yeah.” He holds up her blanket. “Figured you want a cover on her since she’s not right up against you.”

"It's perfect," you murmur again. Unwrapping her from your chest is a careful process, but soon a squirming little girl is ready to be set down in her very first pram and she giggles with glee just as soon as you lay her blanket over her. "Daddy made you the perfect little pram so we can push you around and let you see town without having to be attached to my chest the whole time."

“Tommy helped too.” Joel admits, pleased that you seem thrilled with the pram. “He wants to make one for Maria now.”

"Brand new family heirlooms." It's a magical and unexpected gesture, that you reach down to tickle Caroline's belly and can't resist kissing Joel, as well. "This kind of puts my Valentine's surprise to shame, babe."

“No it doesn’t.” Joel immediately frowns and shakes his head. “You don’t have to do anything for me.”

"You didn't have to do anything for me, either." With a grin, you lean over and kiss his cheek again while Caroline looks around her pram in wonder. "I went to see the doc the other day." He's been busy — apparently building you a damn stroller with his own two hands — so you had taken it upon yourself to go in the meantime.

“Yeah?” Joel’s eyes widen slightly and he looks Caroline in her pram to you. “And?”

"And." He looks like he might jump up and down from excitement, and you can't help but laugh. "She had a diaphragm for me."

He frowns and tries to remember what the hell that is. It’s been a long time since he’s talked about birth control in depth. “That- that’s that thing that goes inside you before sex, right?”

“Right.” Another giggle escapes you, and you lean into his side. “It’s not full proof, but it’s something.”

“Yeah.” Joel knows that no birth control is perfect, but he feels better with that. “Do you still want to have me pull out?” He asks seriously.

“Is it irresponsible to say no?” You just want to feel him completely, but you’ll understand if he declines. You’ve already brought one baby into the world, the idea was to prevent two. “It’s your decision, love. All I care about is getting to be close to you.”

“I say we keep track of your cycle like you normally do.” Joel murmurs. “I’ll pull out when you’re ovulating.”

“In that case.” The grin on your face turns absolutely devilish. “No need to pull out tonight.”

Joel blows out a loud breath and reaches down to adjust himself. “That’s the best fuckin’ Valentine’s you could ever give me.”

“I thought you might like it.” Compared to what he’s done? It’s barely anything at all. But the chance to be as close to each other as possible is something you’ve both been craving as you’ve realized the depth of feelings you have.

“Love it.” Joel growls, reaching for you to pull you close and press his lips to yours for a quick and harsh kiss.

“Love it a lot. Got it.” You melt against him and bury your face in his chest, glad to be held in his arms for even a few moments at a time. “We’ll have some grown up time after the movie tonight?”

"Already asked Ellie if she would mind the bassinet being in her room." He tells you with a grin. "Bottles ready."

“Scheming!” You erupt into giggles, cheeks burning hot and desire starting to ache in your core. “You have been scheming.”— Today at 8:02 PM

"I have been scheming." He admits shamelessly. "And there's one more thing that I have to give you."Today at 8:07 PM

“Joel.” A pout comes with a tilt of your head and you shake it immediately. “Baby, no. You’ve already done so much.”Today at 8:12 PM

"This is something from me....for you." He promises softly. "I wanted to give you something that shows you how much I love you." He swallows. "Do you want it now, or do you want me to - you know, make it romantic?" Today at 8:25 PM

“I want you to do whatever will make you happiest.” Another soft kiss between you makes you melt that much more. “I’ll love it no matter what.”day at 8:33 PM

"I kind of want to give it to you now, before I lose the damn thing." Joel admits with a huff of amusement, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a faded velvet box.at 8:42 PM

“What…?” It may be a long while since the last time you walked into a jewelry store, but you still remember what a ring box looks like as your eyes flick between the box and Joel. “Honey?”day at 8:52

"It's- do you know how fucking hard it was to remember birthstones?" He snorts, shaking his head. "I wanted to get you something that had meaning. That's symbolic of how we came together."

He holds it out to you a little more surely and you realize your hands are shaking a little when you reach to open it. The ring inside has been cleaned, it's shining in the dim sunlight streaming into the workshop and the tears spill over immediately. "You—you figured out Caroline's birthstone?" It had never occurred to you to even try to think of what it would be, although you did figure out what her zodiac was while holding her one night right after she was born. y at 9:13 PM

"Yeah." He looks down at the ring and smiles. "There was a book in the library." He admits, not wanting you to think he was some kind of genius. "You told me when she was born, and I'm never gonna forget that." He bites his lip. "I was thinking you could wear it like an engagement ring or whatever, if you want."y at 9:18 PM

"Are you saying you want me to wear it like an engagement ring, or that I can think of it that way if I want to?" Slipping the ring out of the box, it's obvious immediately that it will fit you pretty perfectly and you wonder if Joel tried to do any sneaky measuring of your ring finger while you were sleeping or something like that.t 9:21 PM

He bites his lip and resists the urge to fold his arms over his chest. "I want- it's kind of up to you, baby." He reminds you. "I should ask you though, right?" He's talking to himself, rolling his eyes at how he is bungling it up. "Do you want to get married? If they do weddings here?"9:29 PM

If you were going to tease him, you would remind him that his brother and Maria got married. That there is something like marriage here in Jackson, even without the way weddings were in the past. And the end of the world, marriage is about a commitment between people. Not about a thousand dollar dress or haggling over the guest list. And honestly? That is the way you would have wanted it even back then. "Yes," you nod, that smile spreading back across your face as you hold your shaky hand out to him. "Yes, I absolutely do."35 PM

Joel takes the hint, carefully pulling the ring from the box and taking your hand gently to push the ring onto your finger. "It fits." He sighs out in relief. "Tying a string around your finger to measure it worked." He looks up into your eyes with a grin. "How do you like it?"t 9:41 PM

"It's perfect." Wrapping your arms around his neck, you press into his space and let yourself just breathe him in. Grateful for the coincidence that brought you together, for the accident that has sealed your connection, and for the love that has bound you. "I love you."

“I love you too, baby.” Joel vows softly, pressing his lips to yours. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

______

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absurdthirst · 4 months

Text

Dieter's Daughter {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.7k

Warnings: Dad!Dieter, mentions of drug use, unplanned pregnancies, freaking out, mentions of foster care, anxiety, lactation kink, babies, domestic bliss, falling in love, sudden marriage proposals, Dieter being a sap, adult breast feeding, oral sex (female receiving), face riding, vaginal sex, pregnancy

Comments: When a baby is dropped off on Dieter's doorstep, he is completely out of his element and doesn't know what to do. Attending a single mother support group meeting, he finds you. Begging you to become a nanny to his daughter.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

It takes several minutes for the sounds of the doorbell peeling insistently to break through Dieter’s nearly catatonic state. Too much booze and too many pills are the result of another day of discontent and wishing that there was something other than numbness of life for him. Leaving him grumbling when one eye pops open and he groans when the cotton mouth and headache hits him. “Go away.” He huffs, knowing that there is no way that whoever is at the damn door would hear him all the way in his bedroom. Hell, the only reason he hears the doorbell is because it’s wired to the sound system in the house. Again the bell rings and like the dead rising from the grave, Dieter drags himself out of the safety and comfort of his bed. “Fuck! I’m coming! I’m coming!” The bathrobe he had tossed down last night is put over his boxers and he shuffles towards the stairs as fast as his lethargic body can go.

When Dieter opens the door, he’s shocked to see a woman standing there holding a baby. “Can I help you?” He asks, rubbing his eyes, and she snorts.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” She asks and Dieter squints, “am I supposed to?”

She laughs humorlessly, “I shouldn’t be surprised, you could barely remember my name that night. I was just amazed that a big actor wanted to fuck me. Remember me? That cocktail waitress from the club you took home about ten months ago?” She says and Dieter scratches his neck.

“Listen lady, I sleep with a lot of people. It’s hard to remember them all.” He admits with zero qualms.

“Wow. You’re a fucking asshole. Anyway, I guess the condom broke because congrats, you’re a daddy. It’s a girl. Her name is Rosie. Her birth certificate is in the bag.” She holds the baby out towards him and his eyes widen, looking down at the baby bag in the ground.

”What? I- what the fuck?” He looks bewildered before he starts to laugh. “Good one. Real funny. What do you want? Money?” He scoffs and she shakes her head, tears in her eyes.

“No. No. I need you to take her. I can’t afford her and I- I didn’t want her. When I found out - I was fucking eight months pregnant so it was too late to get rid of her and I can’t work so I can’t pay for my place. I can’t keep her. You gotta take her. She will be better off with you.” She says and pushes the baby into Dieter’s arms.

He scrambles to hold the baby, not wanting to drop her and the woman immediately sprints off towards her car. “Hey! Wait! You can’t just- I don’t know how to look after a baby! I need you to - hey. Where the fuck- get back here!” He yells as she squeals off of his driveway and he curses himself for not fixing the gate yet. “Shit.” He hisses. He didn’t even get her name. Looking down at the baby, he sighs and knows he has to find her mom. He can’t be a daddy. He can barely look after himself.

No, first thing is a damn DNA test and then he’s gonna find that bitch and give her back her baby. He’s gotta call the police after he cleans up his counters from the coke powder. “Fuckkkkk.” He groans, knowing his quiet day just got a whole lot busier.

****

“If we take her, Mr. Bravo, she’s just going to go into a state home. An orphanage.” Dieter frowns and wraps his arms around his chest, nervous for having the fucking cops in his house. Paranoid they were going to find the baggie of Coke he just remembered was in the little box next to his car keys. “You are listed on the birth certificate.”

Snatching the paper from the officer he squints at it. “How the fuck is that legal?” He demands. “That means anyone could put me down as the father of their kid.”

The officer shuffles, clearly uncomfortable and slightly in awe of being in the actor’s presence. “That’s for the courts to decide. Look,” he lowers his voice and looks around. “I don’t think you understand how bad the system is for babies.” He tells Dieter seriously. “Just- keep the baby with you, at least until the DNA tests come back. That way you don’t have to fight to get her back when she is yours. You already said you might have slept with this woman. Stranger things have happened.”

Dieter huffs, upset by the idea of the tiny little human being in an orphanage. Even if she doesn’t look anything like him. He had found diapers and a can of formula in the bag that the mother had left with him but that’s it. He has nothing to take care of a child. “What am I supposed to do? I don’t know shit about kids.” He demands, making the officer chuckle.

“Hire a nanny.” The officer suggests, smirking. “Isn’t that what you Hollywood types do?”

Dieter knows he can’t just ship the kid off. She’s so tiny and vulnerable. He can’t do it, even he’s not that big of an asshole. He will call his assistant to get a nanny in today. “Listen, do you, uh, know how much formula to use?” He asks the cop who nods and walks over to the counter to show Dieter.

“One scoop for every two ounces of water. Get baby water but bottled will have to work for today. So four ounces, two scoops. And shake. After she is finished, shift her to your shoulder and gently pat her back to get her to burp.” He says and Dieter nods.

“How much does she need?” Dieter asks and the cop chuckles, “she’s gonna be hungry a lot. I remember mine at that age. Endless bottles. Be sure to wash them thoroughly.” He says and pats Dieter on the shoulder and makes his way towards the front door of the Sherman Oaks mansion.

“Fuck.” Dieter groans, rubbing his cheek when the police leave and the baby starts to cry. He knows she must be hungry so he fumbles to open the container, grabbing the bottle to fill it with bottled water and putting two scoops in. “I’m coming.” He says, struggling to do the bottle up, and he curses again as he walks over to carefully scoop the baby up. “How do I-?” He struggles to get her to suck on the bottle and sighs in relief when she stops wailing and gulps down the milk.

Dieter holds the baby awkwardly, trying to remember how from that role a few years ago. The baby had been a prop doll, but they had shown him how to hold it. “Your name’s Rosie, huh?” He asks, looking down at the infant. According to the birth certificate, she’s only two months old. “I’m Dieter, but you don’t talk so why am I telling you that?” He huffs, but the baby gurgles around the nipple of the bottle and it makes him grin. “Did you like that?” He asks, lifting a brow. Apparently he’s a natural with kids.

The baby grunts and the grin immediately slides into a frown. “What’s that?” He asks, feeling something moving. “What are you doing?” Instead of sucking down the milk, the baby is grunting and straining and Dieter stares in horror as the smell starts to reach his nose. “Oh shit! You shit!” He groans in disgust.

The baby starts to cry, unhappy with a full diaper, and Dieter is reaching for his phone.

“Hello?” His assistant answers and Dieter is panicking.

“I need you here right now. I need help.”

Johan, his assistant, frowns, “is that- is that a baby?” He asks and Dieter groans, “get here now. And call a nanny service!” He demands and hangs up. “What do I do?” He asks the baby, shifting to lay her down on a towel so she doesn’t get shit on his expensive rug. “I- shit. You - fuck. That’s disgusting.” He groans and pulls his phone out. “YouTube! I’ll try YouTube.” He looks up ‘how to change a diaper’ and grabs the baby bag.

Dieter watches the video, studying it intently as he keeps a hand on the baby’s stomach. “Looks easy.” He frowns at the squirming baby. “But the doll wasn’t moving.” He sets the phone down beside the bag so he can see it and bites his lip as he tries to figure out the snaps on the onesie she’s in. “Holy shit.” He huffs, amazed at how easy it unsnaps. “I need this in a fucking adult version.” Wrinkling his nose when the smell gets even worse, he groans. “Wheeeeew, God you stink.” He nearly gags and pulls his shirt up over his nose. “What did you eat?”

Trying to plug his nose, he follows the YouTube video, wiping the poop off of her skin after rolling up the dirty diaper and putting it in the diaper bag. Anyone watching would think Dieter is dealing with a bomb. He gags when he pushes the wipes into the bag after cleaning her up and he grabs the rash cream, placing some on her bottom where the video details he should. He curses the new diaper, trying to figure out what way is the front until he sees it says “back” on it and he pulls it tight on her tiny body before he clips her onesies back into place. “Shit. That - that wasn’t too bad.” He murmurs, breathing in the fresh air and she hiccups, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“You’re kind of cute.” Dieter murmurs. “In a weird, ‘you don’t look like me’ kind of way.” He frowns when she grins at him, kicking her feet. “You’re weird.” He huffs, but she just waves her arms at him and squeals. Is she his? After all this time, did he finally fuck up and procreate? His mind spins and he wishes he remembers what the woman looks like better than he does but it had been early (for him) and he had just woken up. “We will have to find you someone who knows what they are doing kiddo.”

****

“What did you do?” Johan accuses Dieter who shakes his head, holding the baby in his arms and he looks at her, unable to deny that she looks a little like Dieter.

“I don’t know man. Some woman, I- Jesus. She said I fucked her and don’t even remember her. I’m waiting for the nurse to come for the DNA test.” Dieter confesses, knowing he has to be sure before he does anything.

“Oh my God, Dieter.” She rolls her eyes and immediately steps closer to the baby, unable to resist seeing her up close. “This is why you said you needed a nanny?”

Dieter nods and rocks his body as the baby’s eyes start to drift closed. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” He huff, looking around the house that is definitely not baby proof. “I don’t have anything. I need-” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what the fuck I need. More diapers? That formula?” He nods towards the diaper bag. “She didn’t leave me shit for this baby.” He growls, pissed off at the poor planning of that woman. Who just abandons their baby with someone they didn’t know?

“Let me make a list and we can get what we need for her.” Johan says, knowing Dieter will not know anything that he will need.

“I need help. And stuff. Like now.” Dieter says, feeling the need to use but he can’t since he’s responsible for a fucking baby now.

Johan nods and bites his lip. “I’ve got a call into a nanny service. They are going to send someone over today.” He knows Dieter will be relieved. “Maybe she can help us with what we need.”

“Let’s get her. I need help. I- shit. I don’t even have a crib or anything. I need you to go out. Take my card and get all the baby shit from the best store there is in town.” He orders, wanting the baby to have the best even if she isn’t his. She’s cute and she deserves a good start in this world. “I need - shit - I have no idea what I’m doing. Please help me.” Dieter begs, the baby falling asleep against his chest and he looks down at her, her lips pouting as she sucks on the pacifier he found in the bag.

Johan grimaces and nods, aware that he has even less experience with babies than Dieter does. “I’ll be back.” The other man promises, quickly making his way towards the door and out of the house. He had no clue what the hell to do for his boss, he’s gotten himself in a mess this time. As much as he wants to claim he doesn’t know that baby is his, it is. Dieter Bravo is a father.

****

“It’s nice to meet you. I’ve always been such a fan of your work.” The woman gushes. Dieter can barely remember her name. Violet, Vivian, or something like that. She seems nice enough and her qualifications from the service are good. He doesn’t really know what he’s looking for in a nanny except he desperately needs help. He’s waiting on the DNA results to come in but the little baby is cute and she listens to him rambling without complaints.

Viola looks around the house and wonders how the hell Dieter Bravo became an overnight father. “You must attend parenting classes.” She insists after Dieter finally runs out of steam and shuts up. “There is one I can sign you up for. It’s for new parents and you qualify.” She chuckles, shaking her head. “They have a meeting in two days, I can see about getting you halfway set up.

“What? No. I don’t need a parenting group.” Dieter scoffs and Viola raises her eyebrows.

“Respectful sir, I think you do.” She offers him a wry smile when the baby starts to cry in his arms.

“I’m hopeless, aren’t I?” He sighs, trying to rock Rosie and he is struggling to calm her.

“Here. Can I-?” Viola asks and Dieter practically shoves the baby into her arms.

“You’re hired.” He declares when Rosie calms down and the crying stops. He can’t do this alone.

“Mr. Bravo,” Viola frowns and shakes her head. “I’m sorry if you misunderstood. I am here temporarily.” She explains. “I have already signed a contract with another family. I came today because it was an emergency.” She wonders if he had heard anything she had said when she arrived, he had looked frazzled but she thought she had been clear.

“What? No! You seem like such a nice lady and Rosie likes you. Please. I’ll pay more. I’ll do anything to get you to stay.” He pleads, “name your price. I’ll fucking pay it. Please!” He pouts, eyes wide and pleading.

Viola shakes her head, “I’m so sorry. I can’t get out of the contract. I’ll help you as much as I can. Johan said you need help learning the basics so I’ll show you the basics and take care of Rosie while I can but you’re going to have to learn what to do.” She says, knowing it’s going to be tough.

“I can’t do this.” Dieter wails, knowing life as he knows it is over. Without someone here, he going to fuck it up. “Please, please, you have to stay.” He begs, making Viola shake her head.

“I am here for one week, Mr. Bravo. Then it will be up to you to find someone to help you care for Rosie. Now, let me show you how to bathe your daughter.”

****

“She’s yours.” Dieter exhales shakily as Johan announces the DNA results.

“Shit. I- I have a daughter.” He shakes his head and looks over at Rosie who is asleep in her bassinet. “What am I gonna do?” Dieter asks as reality sets in. He has a child that he’s responsible for and Viola is only here for two more days. “She’s - she’s so tiny and I’m gonna fuck it up. She’s gonna get fucked up because of me.” He starts to panic now that reality has hit.

“You are going to go to the parenting class tonight and we are going to continue to look for a nanny.” Johan tells Dieter practically. He’s been surprised that Dieter hasn’t done as many drugs as he normally does, even smoking weed outside because of the baby. “So far all the services I’ve called don’t have anyone available until next year.” He shakes his head. “Apparently it was baby season this year.”

Dieter groans, covering his face with his hands and dragging them down his cheeks. “I have pre-production for the movie coming up in a few weeks. I can’t take her with me to a table read.” He whines and Rosie shifts in her sleep, making Dieter’s heart melt when the movement catches his attention and he looks over. “Fine. I’ll go to the parenting class. Maybe…maybe someone can help me find a nanny there.” He says, determined to find help.

****

Dieter walks into the church hall, surprised he hasn’t burst into flames. He hasn’t been to church since he was a kid. His mama used to drag him on a Sunday and when he became famous at ten years old, he managed to bail on church because he was working. He sits down in a seat, noticing how all the other attendees are women. Rosie is asleep in her carrier for now and he has the diaper bag at his feet. “Welcome ladies and - oh. Hi, we have a new member.” An older woman smiles at Dieter, “welcome to the single mom support group.”

“Oh, uh, I thought it was-“ Dieter falters for a moment, panicking about being kicked out of the group. “I thought this was a single parent support group.” He explains, shuffling. “I just- uh, the mother of the child- my child- I just got the DNA test back, dropped her off on my door with no warning.” He rambles, trying to explain why he needs to stay. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” He confesses, nearly sounding defeated.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You can stay.” A few of the moms recognize Dieter and he looks exhausted. Rosie had kept him up half of the night since Viola has been weaning him off of her help, and he glances around.

“I’m sorry to - shit. I can go.” He says and you are sitting next to him.

“No, stay. It’s okay. We are all here to help each other.” Your own son, three months old, is whining and you sigh, pulling your tank top down and unclipping your bra to breastfeed him.

Dieter’s eyes widen at the sight of your breast and he can’t deny his cock twitches a little at the idea of drinking down some milk. Shit, when did that kink happen? “I appreciate it. I have no clue what I’m doing.” He admits again and all the women laugh, “none of us do. It’s instinct and a lot of books.” One giggles, “and Google.”

“I didn’t even know.” Dieter moans, shaking his head. “It was- it was a one night stand.” He feels bad about that, not even able to tell Rosie about his relationship with her mom when she gets older. “I’m trying to hire a nanny but all of them are booked up.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to fuck her up. She’s so tiny. Two months old.”

“What’s her name?” You ask him, looking at the little girl asleep in her carrier.

“Rosie.” He says with a soft smile, it’s hard to not love the little girl now that he knows she’s his. He wants the best for her, even if she’s stuck with a manic mess like him. “This is Oliver.” You gesture to the baby now asleep on your breast.

Dieter smiles and tries not to notice the grunting sounds the kid is making. Feeling guilty because he knows that he would be making the exact same sounds the kid is if he was sucking down milk from your tit. “That’s nice.” He offers.

“So what is your name?” The woman in charge smiles fondly at him and he’s surprised no one recognizes him.

“Uh, Dieter.” He offers, curling his shoulders slightly. “Dieter Bravo.”

“Welcome Dieter.” Several of the women say to him with a smile.

“So do you have any questions?” Julia, the group leader asks.

“Where the fuck do I begin?” He replies dramatically, making all the women chuckle.

“Well, we are here to help each other so might as well start.”

“So my first question. So is their shit always gonna be that black color?” Dieter shakes his head, making a face as he remembers the last diaper he had changed.

All the women laugh. “No that won’t last for much longer since she’s three months old.”

Dieter rolls his eyes gratefully. “Oh thank God.” He chuckles. Looking over at you again. “You said your son is two months old? Is he sleeping all night? Is that something that she has to get used to?”

You shake your head, “he isn’t sleeping through the night yet. I breastfeed so he wakes me up every couple of hours. It takes a while for them to sleep through the night. Like six months or so. Have you read any baby books?” You ask and he shakes his head. “Oh you must read - you know what. I’ll send you a list. What’s your number?” You ask and the women all giggle, making you fluster. “I mean, to help. We have babies close in age. It’s good to have help.”

“Do you need a job?” Dieter blurts out, wondering why he hadn’t thought of it before. “I mean- if your husband doesn’t mind.” He corrects himself, forgetting it was a single mother’s group. “I'm just- I’ve got to start pre-production on the next movie and it’s going to be crazy and you seem like you’re perfect. You handle your baby so easily.” His eyes are wide and pleading, begging you to say yes.

Your eyes widen, "I- um, oh wow. A job?"

The other women all nod, telling Dieter about your history as a teacher and how you know CPR. You fluster, knowing you need a job. Your maternity leave ended two weeks ago and instead of letting you come back to work, your job had fired you. Between losing your job and your landlord chasing you up on rent, you know this is too good to turn down. "I'm not married and um, what job do you have in mind?"

“Nanny.” He jumps immediately on your question. Knowing that it’s not a ‘no’. “I’ll pay you really well and you can- can you live there? I mean, I can have odd hours and you can stay at my place. You and Oliver.” He makes sure to include your son. “I have a big house. In Sherman Oaks.” As if that would sweeten the deal. “Help me with Rosie and teach me how to be a dad. How to look after her. I don’t expect you to do it all.” He clarifies, having already gotten used to the idea of being a ‘girl dad’. He’s watched a few Tik Toks about it and it looks cool.

You know it sounds too good to be true. A job and a place to live with your son. “I think we need to sit down and talk this through properly. You don’t even know me. Don’t you wanna do a background check?” You ask, knowing you’d be doing that if you were hiring someone to live in your house. “We have a lot to discuss.” You bite your lip and look around the room to see the other moms nodding to encourage you.

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dieter nods seriously. “My agent will have that done. Plus the NDA you would have to sign.” He’s grateful you are even thinking about it. “But don’t worry. Most of the tabloid stuff is bullshit. I’m not that bad.” He promises with a quick, charming grin. “We can hammer out the details after this, right?”

“Uh, sure.” You nod and Dieter winks at you before turning back to the women, their own babies in their arms and you know this is too good an opportunity to turn down. “You wanna go get a coffee?” You ask Dieter after Oliver is in his stroller and you look at Rosie who is still asleep, unaware of her father trying to hire her a new nanny.

“As long as it’s quiet.” He says and you frown, “uh, sure. You said you are going into pre-production so does that mean you are an actor?” You ask, unaware of if he’s famous.

Dieter stares at you for a moment, wondering if you are just trying to play coy but you are just looking at him curiously. “Yeah, uh, I am.” He admits, finding it refreshing that someone on this planet doesn’t know who he is or have any expectations of him. “I normally do two or three movies a year, depending on how long they take to film or whatever.” He struggles with the carrier and the door, holding it open for you on the other side. “Gotta get one of those.” He tells himself, eyeing your stroller.

“We can make a list of what you’ll need. I’m guessing you have the basics but there’s so much stuff.” You sigh, knowing it’s not always been in your reach but someone like him could buy it all.

“A list sounds good. Coffee?” He suggests, gesturing to the small coffee shop down the street and you nod.

“Sounds good. I desperately need one. He kept me up all night. He was hungry last night and wouldn’t settle unless he was against my breast.”

Dieter keeps his dirty thoughts to himself, but he doesn’t blame the kid. He would love to sleep with a nipple in his mouth too. “We will make sure to get you an extra shot of espresso.” He promises, carrying the car seat and diaper bag as he walks alongside you. “I’m being serious. About the job, I mean.” He tells you. “I have tried every nanny service in the greater L.A. area with no luck, although I’m on their waitlist.” He sighs and shuffles the carrier when his arm gets tired in one position. “I have an in-law suite you and Oliver can use, if you want a little more privacy than just sleeping upstairs.” He knows he sounds desperate, because he is desperate. Johan knows less than he does about babies and has zero interest in watching the kid while he is busy.

“Let’s sit down with the babies and then we can order.” You suggest and he nods, guiding you over to a table in the back. Rosie is waking up and he panics when she starts to cry. “Oh hello gorgeous.” You murmur, leaning down to look at his daughter and Dieter is fumbling to get the bottle from the bag to make her formula. You sigh, sensing he needs help and you unbuckle the baby, Oliver asleep as you cradle Rosie, her cries settling a little and you stand up, rocking her and you reach for the formula Dieter has, a whole damn container, and work fast on a bottle. “My sister has kids. I used to babysit them.” You explain and work fast with one hand to prepare a bottle and bring it to her lips. “Here you go sweet pea.” You coo as she starts to gulp down the milk.

“You’re really good at this.” Dieter says in awe, watching you handle things so smoothly. “I’m just-I don’t know.” He sighs, feeling bad that he’s not good at this.

“Babies sense the emotions around them.” You tell him quietly. “You panic, she’s going to become more frantic. Just talk to her while you are getting her bottle ready. Or have one already mixed up, ready to go.” You think about all the formulas that are already bottled and just need a nipple slapped on them. “We can find a routine that works for you.”

Dieter nods, “yes. Yes. God, please take the job. I need you.” He pleads and you shift Rosie into his arms, transferring the bottle to him.

“I’ll take the job. On one condition.” You say, sitting back down and you rock Oliver’s stroller.

“Anything.” Dieter vows.

“You learn too. I don’t want you to just shove her into my arms at the first sign of difficulty. She’s your daughter. You need to know how to care for her, to bond with her. You can’t just hand her off and expect me to do it all. She needs to know her daddy.”

Dieter nods, knowing that he would do that if given the opportunity. “Okay.” He agrees. “I want you to help me become better at taking care of her.” He bites his lip and looks at you. “What do you want for pay?” He asks, listing off a number that the nanny services had given him. “Does that sound okay? Plus, you’ll have full use of the house. And a card for expenses. I don’t expect you to buy the diapers or wipes or any of that shit.”

Your eyes widen, it’s way more than you were making at your old job. Your landlord has been threatening you with eviction since you’re struggling to pay, and this almost seems like fate. “Wow. I- are you sure?” You ask him and he nods, “I’m absolutely sure.”

You swallow and offer him a soft smile, “then I’m your new nanny.” He grins and your heart thumps in your chest at how handsome he is. “There’s something you gotta know though.” You sigh and Dieter nods, waiting for you to go on. “Oliver’s father. He - he died.” You feel yourself tearing up, “we - I was only a few months pregnant when we got into the car accident. I didn’t even know I was pregnant at the time but Ollie- he- he died. We were- we were friends, friends with benefits and we got pregnant and he- he never got to meet his son.” You choke, the grief that’s consumed you threatens to take you again. He didn’t have any family left alive so Oliver would’ve been his only family.

“I’m sorry.” Dieter frowns, unsure of how to comfort someone about a death that meaningful but he feels like he should say something. “That is rough. Hopefully- hopefully this will turn into a good arrangement.” He offers with a small shrug, realizing that things could be worse. He can’t imagine what it would be like going through this alone. “After our coffee, do you want to come over? See the house?” He asks. “I can call my agent to draw up any kind of paperwork you want.”

You nod, sniffing to stop yourself from crying about Ollie. You loved him, he was your friend, but you were never in love with him. He had his problems and you had yours. It would’ve never worked. Oliver is here now and you have to be strong for him, to keep Ollie’s memory alive. “Yes. I- this is a lot but I want to change my life. I need a change. I want to work for you.” You say as the barista takes pity on you with the babies and comes over to take your order. “I’ll have a vanilla latte please.” You order and Dieter adds, “with an extra shot of espresso.”

After taking your orders, Rosie finishes her bottle and Dieter shifts to put her up on his shoulder to burp. “Hang on, you need a spit rag.” You insist, digging in your own diaper bag to produce one.

“Huh,” Dieter huffs, “I just thought I was supposed to wear her puke until she stopped doing that.” He jokes, the stains on his shirt only partly from his daughter.

“No, you always carry multiple burp clothes and changes of clothes, for both of you.” You tell him with a smile.

He nods, mentally taking notes. He has so much to learn from you to make sure his daughter is well looked after. He doesn’t want to fail at being a father. He wants her to know he did everything he could to be a good daddy. He knows you will be good for Rosie, for him too. He sips his coffee and watches you with Oliver, rocking his stroller, and he can see you’re a good mom. He feels comfortable with you. “Do you wanna come back to my place?” Dieter asks, realizing that’s the first time he’s asked that question without it being for sex or drugs

You bite your lip and look up at the frazzled, yet handsome man who is offering you a dream situation. A place to live and the ability to stay at home with your son while still earning money. You don’t know if you would ever get a better offer. “Yes.” You agree. “I’ll follow you? Maybe you can text me the address in case we get separated?” You want to look it up really quickly, just to make sure it’s a real place.

He nods, taking your number to text you his address. He is anxious for you to see the house, hoping you love it and it helps to get you to take the job. You strap Oliver into his car seat while Dieter does the same to Rosie and soon enough, you’re driving to his house.

“I, uh, I’ll ask the housekeeper to come in more than once a week.” Dieter offers, climbing out of his car as you do the same. He doesn’t want you to think that it’s all going to fall on you. “Oh, Johan told me about a diaper delivery service. All natural diapers? That’s better, right?” He asks, anxious about doing the right thing. He had read about the chemicals used in the nappies he currently has.

You smile at his anxiety, wanting the best for Rosie, and you know he’s going to be a good daddy once he gets his feet under him. “Johan?” You ask and Dieter nods, “my assistant. He’s - he is my lifeline.” Dieter confesses and you nod, understanding he lives a completely different life to you. He needs an assistant to manage his schedule. You take Oliver out of the car in his carrier and follow Dieter into the house, your eyes wide at the gorgeous home he owns. “This is - wow.” You exhale as you enter the grand property.

“Thank you.” Dieter shows you the bottom floor and opens the door to his study. “I have all this shit I don’t know what it’s for.” The room is filled with boxes of toys and jumpers, cribs and carriers. Johan had gone overboard but Dieter had wanted to make sure that he had everything he needed. Your eyes widen and he blushes, “I was trying my best.”

You nod, understating he has struggled since Rosie was dropped on his doorstep. “We can get everything set up. Does she have a nursery?” You ask and he shakes his head, “she’s been in my room. I- I haven’t really slept. I’ve been trying to watch her sleep in case, you know.”

You understand, knowing you stay awake watching Oliver breathing. It’s a lot of anxiety being a first time parent. “We will get her nursery set up and then you can keep her in your room if you want but then she has somewhere to nap and call her own.” You smile and rub his shoulder after you set Oliver down in his carrier, he’s asleep. “It’s gonna be fine.” You promise him, glancing around the beautiful living room. “It’s gonna need some baby proofing and, uh, that needs to go.” You gesture to the powder packet on the counter.

“Oh, I, uh-“ Dieter rushes forward and grabs the packet to sweep it off the counter and into his pocket. “I haven’t- that’ll be put away.” He promises, cursing himself for leaving it out. He hadn’t taken any lately, not since Rosie arrived because he’s too fucking scared of something happening to her while he’s bombed. “Sorry.” He hopes you don’t decide to leave him high and dry because of that. “Do you want to see the rooms you and Oliver could have?” He asks desperately.

You stop him, “I- I am taking the job but you won’t do drugs in this house with the babies. If something happened or they got hold of it - I couldn’t - no drugs in this house. Period. You wanna go get high somewhere else? Fine. But your daughter comes first, you understand?” You ask him, knowing you won’t risk your own son around that kind of bullshit.

Immediately nodding, Dieter understands what you are saying. “I haven’t- not since she’s arrived.” He confesses. “I’ve been too scared to even try in case something happens.” He’s not stupid enough to think he won’t do drugs anymore but he does want to be there for his daughter.

You nod, knowing it’s not ideal but it will have to do. As long as they aren’t kept in the house and he doesn’t do them around the children, it’s his business. You are just his employee. “Okay.” You pat his shoulder and he guides you to the guest suite. “Dieter…this is…wow.” You gasp at the massive room, “this is - this is a lot. Are you sure - there’s no other room you want me to have?” You ask, knowing this room is the size of your apartment.

“You need room for you and Oliver.” He shrugs, not wanting to say that he doesn’t have guests unless it was someone from a party. And he doubts he’s having those here anymore. “This way you have privacy and your own bathroom.” He knows that is important and figured this would be perfect. “And using another room for Oliver is okay too.” He doesn’t want to suggest the nursery can be shared, but he wouldn’t mind. “Will this work?”

You smile, reaching out to pat his arm, “this is more than enough, Dieter. It’s perfect.” You promise and he grins, pleased that you are happy. He sighs when Rosie starts to cry and Oliver follows suit, both babies waking up. “Come on daddy, let’s go feed the babies.”

He feels more confident with you beside him. Even if it’s just your presence reminding him that he should test the bottle on the inside of his wrist before popping the nipple in Rosie’s mouth while Oliver is greedily suckling at your breast for his own meal. “That wasn’t too bad.” He grins down at his daughter, eyes wide but slowly starting to close as she gulps down the bottle. “How often do you have to feed Oliver?” He asks, trying to keep his eyes on your face respectfully. You aren’t giving him a show.

“About every one and a half to two hours. Depends on when he’s hungry. He lets me know.” You chuckle and watch your son as his gulps turn into suckles which lead to him falling asleep against your breast. “It’s - it’s exhausting but he’s worth it.” You smile at Dieter who is rocking Rosie. “You’re getting better already. We will make a list of everything we need for you and, um, I guess I better go and pack.” You smile bashfully, knowing this is a big move but it’s what’s best for you and Oliver.

“Why don’t we hire someone to pack you?” Dieter asks with a frown. You have your hands full and he knows that it will take a lot to take care of your son and try to pack. “I’ll pay for it. I don’t mind. That way we can get the nursery set up.”

“Are you sure? I- I don’t know if you’re gonna find someone so late notice. I don’t have much. And I will need Oliver’s crib and -”

You don’t get to finish because Dieter is pulling out his phone to call Johan and arrange for your things to be moved today. “Whatever it costs.” Dieter says and you swallow, knowing Dieter has more money than you could imagine if he can waste it like that.

“Thank you.” You tell him, cradling Oliver who is fast asleep.

“It’s nothing.” Dieter waves away the thanks and looks down at Rosie as she finishes the last of her bottle. “Okay little girl, let’s get you to burp, and then maybe a nap?” He asks, grinning. “She has the manliest burps.” He brags, astounded that something so small could make such a racket. “I have the other cradle thingy if you want to lay your son down.”

“The bassinet?” You smirk and he shrugs one shoulder, “I’m still learning.” You nod and let him guide you to the bassinet and you carefully lay Oliver down before adjusting your shirt after clipping your nursing bra. Rosie burps and you giggle softly, liking how proud Dieter is of her and you watch him lay her down in the cradle next to Oliver. “Maybe they will be best friends.” You whisper, leaning closer to him.

“That would be cool.” Dieter imagines it, his own childhood lonely and isolated. There were times he had wished desperately for a built-in friend. “Let’s get out of here before we wake them up.” He has learned that Rosie is cranky if she gets woken up before she’s ready and he doesn’t blame her, he’s the same way. Maybe she got it from him. “So, uh, since there’s two kids….just, um, we’re gonna need that double stroller thingy, right?” Dieter asks as he walks down the hall with you. “And can you show me that carrier thing? The one you have the baby wrapped to your body? That looks cool. Oh, and uh, the diapers. The service, when we get that set up, use it for Oliver too.” He adds. “No need to have two different types of diapers, right?”

You nod, realizing it’s best not to argue. “Let’s leave them to sleep and we can work on getting the nursery set up. I- I really appreciate this opportunity, Dieter.” You tell him and lean in to kiss his cheek. He blushes as you set your phone up as a makeshift baby monitor, calling his phone, and you leave the babies to sleep. Dieter follows you, his eyes dropping down to your ass, and he curses internally when he realizes he finds you hot.

****

“Dieter!” You call out, trying to find your boss. Oliver and Rosie are having tummy time on the play mat and you need your breast pump. It’s been a couple of months since you moved in with Dieter to become his full time nanny and it’s been surprisingly nice. Rosie is a good girl and you’ve grown to fall in love with her, making sure her and Oliver get equal treatment. “Can you get my pump?” You ask when he doesn’t respond.

“Yeah!” Dieter reluctantly lets go of his cock and tucks it away in his dress slacks. He had been trying to tug one out before he had to go to court, formally getting custody of his daughter. Nervous and not able to get high, jerking off had become even more of a habit than before now he had started thinking about you while he was doing it. You’re so fucking pretty and kind. Looking like an angel as you take care of his daughter. Dieter knows that he’s falling in love with you but he can’t do anything about it. Not willing to risk you leaving and denying Rosie the best nanny in the world. Washing his hands quickly, he rushes to the kitchen to grab the pump where you had cleaned it last night while he sterilized bottles. “Here it is.”

You thank him, breasts aching and you attach the suction, not thinking about Dieter as you sigh in relief at the milk finally being pumped. “Shit. That feels good.” You groan, the whooshing of the machine pumping and you have been pumping enough for Rosie to have milk too. It’s been a lot but you love the babies. “What time do you have to leave?” You ask Dieter, catching him staring at your tits and you hate that it thrills you. He’s so sexy, unintentionally so, and goofy as hell. He’s good with his daughter and you’ve grown close, raising the babies together, and you know it’s getting harder and harder to deny how you feel every day.

“Oh, uh, I gotta leave in twenty minutes.” His cock is still hard in his trousers and he twitches at the groan you make. Every day you pump, having no modesty around him now and you shouldn’t - it’s natural but Dieter still thinks it’s sexy. “I’m nervous.” He admits, glancing over at Rosie as she squeals and waves her arms on her tummy. “I know that my lawyer said it’s a formality, but what if the judge doesn’t like me? What if he takes Rosie from me?”

You shake your head and reach for his hand, squeezing it. “I promise you, it’s gonna be fine, D. You’re a good daddy and that will be shown. I know your past hasn’t been ideal but you got this. You’re a good man, Rosie is lucky to have you. We all are. It’s gonna be fine. I promise you.” You offer him a soft smile and squeeze his hand again.

“I’m more nervous than the night I won my Oscar.” Dieter confesses with a nervous chuckle. He doesn’t tell you that he was high, sure that you could guess that, although he has done anything more than hit his weed pen since you’ve moved in. Rosie is surprisingly therapeutic, although he’s glad she doesn’t understand what he talks about during the nights he gets up with her. The movie is almost halfway done shooting and he’s going to make sure that once he’s done, you get a week off so you can veg for more than a night. He looks down at your joined hands and smiles. “I’ll call you when I get out, okay?” He asks, and you nod, letting go of him. “And eat that kale and beet salad in the fridge”, he throws over his shoulder as he rushes towards the door. “It’s supposed to help the milk supply.”

You roll your eyes playfully, looking back at the babies. “Daddy is silly, isn’t he?” You talk to Rosie and look at Oliver, saddened that he isn’t going to know his father. You wonder what Ollie would think of Dieter. They are similar in a lot of ways but Ollie was always practical, making sure you weren’t in a relationship because of his strenuous job as a firefighter. He didn’t want you to be one of those women sitting around waiting for him. You sigh and wonder what you are going to do about Dieter. It’s too comfortable with him.

****

“Dinner’s ready!” You call out. The babies are now six and seven months old. Sitting in their baby bouncers, watching you setting the dinner out for Dieter. He’s finished filming and you want to celebrate. The nice bottle of wine on the table alongside his favorite pasta.

“Oh my god, you spoil me.” Dieter groans as he comes into the dining room, freshly showered and in comfortable clothes. Rosie squeals happily and so does Oliver, both of them in their high chairs. Dieter grins leaning in and blowing a raspberry on his daughter’s cheek and then on your son’s. He never thought he was a kid type of person, but his playfulness extends to your son. He’s a good kid and it would not be right when you are so good with Rosie if he ignored the little guy. It makes him imagine that the four of you are a family, a real one and he was coming home from work to all of you. “You didn’t have to do this.”

You shake your head, enjoying the way his hand finds your waist as you reach for the parmesan on the counter. You turn to face him, cupping his cheek, “you just finished filming. You deserve a treat.” You smile, caressing his cheek and your eyes dip down to his lips for a second. He stares at you and you clear your throat, lowering your hand, “let’s eat. You must be starving.” You set the cheese down and glance over at the babies, you fed them while dinner was cooking so now you and Dieter can enjoy your meal.

“How was your day?” He’s finding that this, fatherhood and responsibility, is grounding for him. Not just concentrating on his whims and trolling through boredom. Every day is different and challenging with kids, especially when he’s trying to make sure that none of his own parents' mistakes affect Rosie. “The kids were okay?” He asks, pouring more wine into each of your glasses. You hum in protest but Dieter shakes his head. “Just pump and dump. You deserve more than one glass.” He huffs.

You sigh but let him pour some more wine, it’s been stressful with the babies today. “Rosie decided to throw up all over Oliver and herself so both of them needed a bath and then Oliver managed to get his diaper off in his onesie so he needed another bath and then Rosie wouldn’t stop crying because Oliver wasn’t next to her. It’s been - it’s been a day.” You sigh and Dieter nods, reaching for your hand. It feels so normal, like you’re complaining to your husband about your hectic day over wine and you look up at Dieter, “I love them both so much but today was…it was a lot.”

“I can imagine.” Dieter squeezes your hand gently and once again thinks that it’s odd that you don’t feel like his employee. You feel like his wife, although he’s never kissed you, or touched you like he’s imagined. “Let me take both the kids tonight.” He offers. “I’ve got the next week off before I have to do all the press bullshit for the other movie coming out in two weeks. Why don’t you take a little vacation? A spa or something?” His parenting skills have improved drastically and there have been times where he’s watched Oliver for you. Like when you had to go for another postpartum checkup.

You groan, letting go of his hand so you can continue eating. “I won’t lie…a massage sounds good. My back has been killing me.” You confess, twirling the pasta around your fork and you bite your lip, wondering what a massage from him would be like with his hands. “I wouldn’t mind going to the mall. I need some new clothes that aren't leggings.” You chuckle, “and I need some new underwear.” You sigh before you chew on the pasta.

Dieter’s cock twitches at the thought of your underwear. Not that he sees them. You’ve taken over doing the laundry even though he offered to have someone come in. Or he could help. Insisting that it was no problem. Johan had even commented that you made his house seem like a real home, and Dieter couldn’t deny that. “You could do all that.” He promises. “I’ll watch the kids. I want to spend some time with R and O.”

You feel guilty leaving the kids behind but you trust Dieter, something you never thought you’d say, but he has proven himself to be an amazing father. You smile, “thanks baby.” You tell him and he swallows the wine down. It’s getting harder to deny how you feel. After finishing eating, Dieter helps you clean up while you have the babies in the play pen. “Bedtime for the bubbies.” You coo, picking up Rosie and kissing her hair. “Daddy is gonna change you, baby girl.” You slide her into Dieter’s arms and pick up Oliver.

“Why don’t you go take your own bath?” Dieter offers, grinning down at Rosie. “You’ve had them all day and you said it’s been rough. Go take a bubble bath. I can get them ready for bed.” He’s made huge strides as a father, as a caretaker and now that he’s more confident, he finds he likes it. Kids are fun. And easy to learn how to please. “I can rock them both and get them settled.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, trusting him but you want him to be comfortable.

“I am for this.” He promises and you nod, “you got this. I- I can feed O before they get to sleep.” You say and he shakes his head.

“No. I got it.” He promises, knowing he can warm up your milk.

You lean in to kiss the babies’ heads, “goodnight my loves. I love you so much.” You say to them and you look up at Dieter, offering him a grateful smile. You make your way into the bathroom, sighing in relief when you sink into the tub.

Dieter hums to the babies as he warms up their last bottles of the night. Changed and in clean onesies, they are ready for that last bottle. Smirking to himself as he tests the breast milk on his wrist and barely resists licking it. He wants to try it, but he feels like that might be crossing a line. Getting both of the babies settled in each arm and they can hold their own bottle now with a little help. “You two are like twins, you know that?” He coos at both of them, settling in the rocker on the nursery while they eat. Watching their eyes grow heavier as they suck. You had both decided to keep them in the same nursery, letting them bond and it has worked out so much better than he had ever hoped. He loves Oliver like Rosie and when they fall asleep at the same time, he’s grinning as he holds them for a little longer before shifting to put them to sleep in the same crib. They cried if they were separated, curling up together during the night as if they were twins.

You sigh, relaxing in the hot water until you decide to get out and say goodnight to the babies. You shrug your robe on, tying it as you make your way to the nursery as Dieter leans over the crib. “They asleep?” You whisper and he nods. You caress their heads, loving how they are asleep together, keeping each other safe. Sometimes you see them holding hands in the night. It’s adorable. You rest your head on Dieter’s shoulder as you watch them for another moment and he turns his head to kiss your hair. It makes your heart pound and you pull away, letting the babies sleep with the white noise machine running.

Dieter’s hands seem to be twitchy as you walk out of the nursery in front of him. He knows that you are only dressed in a robe and he wants nothing more than to strip you out of it and touch you. Make you shake in pleasure. “Do you want to have a drink?” Dieter asks. “Or are you calling it a night?”

“A drink sounds good. Relax after a long day.” You smile, walking into the kitchen to open the second bottle of wine you’d bought earlier. You work fast to open it, pouring a glass and handing it to him before you settle on the sofa. “You wanna continue watching that show on HBO?” You ask, knowing he hates it when you watch an episode without him.

“Yes!” Dieter lights up and he narrows his eyes at you playfully. “You better not have already watched it.” He threatens playfully, handing you the remote. He likes when you relax and loves that you feel completely at home here. It is your home. He leans towards you and takes a sip of the wine. “What do you think is gonna happen, this episode? The previews looked good.”

You nod, shifting closer towards him. “I promise you. I haven’t seen it yet.” You assure him and have another sip of your wine. You love and hate how relaxed you are, how easy this is. How real it feels. Like you’re a proper family. The baby monitor is on the coffee table and you rest your head on Dieter’s shoulder as he presses play. You barely watch the show, too focused on the way Dieter feels pressed against you.

About halfway through the show Dieter shuffles, throwing his arm around the backside of the couch and around you. Letting you slide down against him more. You pull the throw blanket over your legs and he smiles, wondering how you are always cold but it’s a cute quirk he’s noticed.

You snuggle into his side, hand finding his chest and you caress the skin under the shirt he always has half buttoned. He sighs and you breathe him in, pleased to feel his heart thumping under your touch. This intimacy, it’s what keeps you satisfied when you yearn for more but you can’t risk it. Your job. Your home. Your life is connected to his and you can’t afford to mess it up.

“Marry me.” Dieter says and you think you misheard him.

“What?” You ask, not moving.

“Marry me.” He repeats and you jerk back from his side so you can look him in the eyes.

“What- did you just ask me to marry you?”

“I did.” Dieter nods, turning towards you and reaching for your hand. “I love you. I love how you make this house feel like a home. I love how you care for Rosie and I love Oliver.” He adds. “I love coming home to you and I want this-“ he motions around the house and between the two of you. “To be real. I want to touch you, kiss you. Make love to you.” Dieter isn’t a man who talks in terms like ‘making love’ but that’s exactly what it would be. “I think you love me too, don’t you? I know you do.”

You shake your head, wanting to tell him you love him. He’s crazy, he leaves his socks everywhere and he has so many holes in his shirts but he’s kind and whacky and so damn funny. You love him, you’re in love with him, but to marry him would be a bad idea. You can’t risk this life you’ve created together. “Dieter.” You sigh, pulling your hand out of his. “We can’t. We can’t risk the babies. We - if it all went wrong, then I’d be moving out with Oliver and Rosie loses him and vice versa. If it all went wrong, I’d be homeless and I wouldn’t have anything. I can’t risk that for my son. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

His heart breaks but he’s determined to convince you this is a good thing. Latching onto what you said about being homeless, his eyes widen. “I’ll buy you a house.” He bursts out. “In your name alone. It’ll be yours. Completely.” He nods to himself, grinning like an idiot and picks up your hand again. “It won’t go wrong, you’re perfect and I love you. I want to be with you and our babies all the time and fuck, I want another baby when you’re ready.” He missed everything about Rosie’s birth and he wants to see your stomach large with a baby, his baby. “But if it did-“ he stresses the word ‘if’, “-you would have a house for you and Oliver. And you could rent it out right now. The money would be yours. Totally yours.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “I can’t - that’s too much. A house here is insane. That’s a crazy amount to put into this. That - a whole damn house? That’s what you want to do?” You ask incredulously and he nods.

“All I know is that I can’t stop thinking about you. I need you. I love you.” He promises and you swallow harshly, tears stinging in your eyes.

Your heart yearns for him yet your head tells you it’s too much of a risk. “Dieter…” You trail off and he frowns, pulling away slightly, sensing your rejection. “I love you.” Your eyes water and a sob escapes your lips as you start to cry. No one has ever been so kind to you. To know he loves you enough to buy a house so you feel secure in case something goes wrong. It has you sobbing.

He lunges forward, crushing you to him in a comforting hug. “Don’t cry baby, please don’t cry. I never want you to cry.” He pleads, sure that he’s messed up somehow. “I’m sorry, I just can’t stop wanting you. Seeing you with our babies, I think- I wish they were ours. Our twins and we had them together.” He rubs your back and pets your hair as you sob into his chest and he tries to think of how he could make you feel better.

You sob into his chest at his words, wishing they were true but it’s not and that’s okay. The babies brought you together and you know you and Dieter would’ve never met if it weren’t for that single moms group. “I - I love you.” You offer him a watery smile as you pull back and he reaches out to gently wipe your tears away. “I love you and I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I love you Dieter.” You confess, cupping his cheeks.

Dieter’s smile is slow, soft and he can’t believe that you are saying yes. He leans in and presses his lips to yours softly. Loving how you immediately open for him to slide his tongue against yours with a groan. Pulling you close against him again, this time shamelessly pressing his body against yours. “I love you.” He promises, kissing down your jaw line. “Do you want to have sex with me? Or do you want to wait?” He wants you in his bed, but if you wanted to wait until the deed to the house was in your hands, he would understand that. He would go out tomorrow and buy you the best house he could find.

You know you’ve spent far too much time thinking about him, having him inside of you, pressing against you, and you know you should slow down but you can’t. “I want you. I don’t want to wait. I want you now.” You tell him breathlessly and you press your lips to his, cupping his cheek while you slide your tongue against his.

Groaning, Dieter pulls you closer and starts to lean you back against the sofa, knowing that he needs to take you to bed but right now, he needs to feel you under him. “So beautiful.” He praises, kissing your chin and nips your skin with his teeth.

You sigh, loving how it feels to have him touch you. His hand sliding along your thigh and you whimper, “Dieter. Please. I want you to touch me.” You plead, guiding his hand to the tie of your robe while your hands caress his chest under his ratty t-shirt.

He hums, twitching against your hip and he leans back and grins at you, “I’m going to, baby. I’m going to make sure you know exactly what you are getting from me.” He pulls your robe open and groans at the sight of your tits. Looking back up at you. “Can I taste?” He asks. “I’ve dreamed of tasting your milk.”

Your cunt clenches around nothing at the thought. “You’ve imagined it?” You ask breathlessly and he nods so you move fast to straddle him, his cock hard against your thigh, and you lean in towards him to kiss him as you shrug your robe off of your shoulders. “You can have a taste.”

He knows your tits are tender, hearing you complain and watching as you sometimes have to massage them. He cups them in his hands, groaning at how full they are, grinning. “Fuck, I can drink it all since you were going to dump it.” He realizes as he leans forward to wrap his lips around one nipple.”

“Oh shit.” You gasp, groaning softly at the relief and arousal coursing through you. You love it. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you watch him gulp down your milk and you’re amazed that he enjoys it. “Oh God baby.” You pant, feeling the relief of your milk draining and the way he sucks on your nipple, biting it now and then.

“Shit.” He gasps, feeling his cock throbbing. “It’s better than I expected.” He moans, switching to your other breasts and he knows this will become a favorite thing for him now. One hand slides down between your thighs and he is so fucking happy to find you wet.

“Dieter. Please.” You beg, needing more from him. It’s been so long since someone touched you. Not since Ollie. You rock down onto his fingers, loving how he rubs your clit while his lips suckle on your other breast. “Oh fuck, D. So good.” You whimper, caressing his shoulders.

“What do you want, baby?” He pulls off your nipple with a pop. “You want me to eat your pussy?” He groans at the thought. “Want to sit on Dieter’s face? Smother me with your cunt?”

You giggle breathlessly, “that’s the only way to shut you up?” You tease and he nods, “one of the few ways.”

You laugh and he moves fast to shift, laying down and he pulls you over to hover over his face. “Shit baby. So good to me.” You gasp when he drags you down on top of his face.

The first taste is always amazing. Sliding his tongue though your folds as he pulls your hips down onto his mouth. Holding you there as he licks and then sucks on your clit.

You whimper, “baby. Oh baby.” You moan, grinding down onto his face. “So good. So fucking good.” You moan, loving how enthusiastic he is and he squeezes your ass, encouraging you to move. You do, rocking your hips down even more.

He doesn’t care that you two are on the couch or that he is throbbing in his pants. All he cares about is making you moan his name. He knows he will slide inside you as soon as you cum for him. He moans against your clit, loving how you are smothering him just like he wanted you to. Using him for your pleasure.

“Fuck. Fuck. It’s so good, baby.” You pant, lost in the pleasure of his mouth on you. You rock on top of his mouth, his nose pressing against your clit as his tongue pushes deep. “Fuck baby. Yes. Yes. Yes. Keep - keep going.” You beg, moaning his name.

He can’t breathe, but he doesn’t care. Too busy licking into you to feel your walls start to convulse around his tongue. Moaning when the first rush if your juices hit his mouth and your moan of his name almost makes him cum in his pants. Digging his fingers into your hips, Dieter doubles down on making you shriek his name.

You throw your head back as he makes you cum, moaning his name as you clamp down around his tongue. “Fuck baby. Fuck. I- I love you.” You whine when he works you through it and you whimper, lifting off of him when it becomes too much.

Panting like he was the one who had cum, Dieter licks his lips, completely pussy drunk as he caresses your side. Enjoying the boneless way you collapse on top of him as you try to catch your breath. “I love you. Fuck, you’re my new favorite meal.”

You inhale deeply, shifting off of him and you waste no time in tugging his shirt off of him. “Baby. I want to see all of you.” You tell him, tossing the ragged shirt away and you pull his sweats down to expose his cock. “Holy - that’s what you got?” Your eyes are wide at the girth and you wrap your fingers around him.

Dieter groans, bucking his hips and biting his lip in pleasure. “Fuck, is that not enough?” He gasps out. Normally women have no issue with his size but maybe your Ollie was hung like a horse.

“Not enough? Dieter, baby, I’m gonna feel you tomorrow.” You assure him, “I’m gonna need - wow. You might have to get some lube.” You admit and you start to pump him, in awe that your fingers don’t touch. You know it’s been so long since you’ve had sex and he is thick. You’ve always preferred girth over length anyway. “You’re big.” You promise him, leaning in to flick your tongue over the leaking slit.

He preens at your praise, eyes rolling back in his head at the feel of your tongue. “I’ve got lube.” He promises, reaching down and cradling your jaw. “Use it all the time, jerking off thinking about you.” He’s not ashamed of masturbating while thinking of you. “Baby let's go to the bedroom. You can ride me if you want more control.”

You want to suck his cock but you know you’ll have plenty of time to do that later. Right now, you need him inside of you. Releasing his cock, you pick up the baby monitor and stand up, smirking as you make your way to his bedroom. He’s scrambling to get his sweatpants off and you disappear down the hall, throwing over your shoulder, “don’t keep me waiting, Bravo.”

“Shit.” He hisses, eager to chase after you. Noticing that you are headed to his bedroom and not your own. “I’m coming baby, fuck.” He watches your ass shake as you sway your hips. “Gonna buy you the biggest fucking house I can find.”

You giggle, setting the monitor down on the nightstand and you gasp when Dieter’s hands grab your hips, pulling you back into him. You quickly spin and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his. “I love you.” You murmur against his mouth, his hard cock pressing into your stomach.

“I love you too.” Dieter moans softly, sliding his hands down and squeezing your ass. “Do you- do you need me to wear a condom?” He asks, sure that you aren’t wanting to get pregnant so soon after having your son. It wasn’t like you two had discussed birth control.

“No. I- I got an IUD put in. Figured they might as well do it while I was there and it wasn’t painful. I’m clean too. Not been with anyone since Ollie.” You promise and wonder if he’s clean. You don’t know when he slept with someone last. Maybe after you arrived. You don’t know. It’s not like it was your business when you were just his nanny.

He nods. “I uh, I haven’t been with anyone since Rosie has shown up. I’m clean.” He promises, eager to slide inside you and feel you without a barrier. “I didn’t want to do that kind to shit around her. Give her a good example. Don’t want her to be like me.”

You cup his cheeks, “you’re a good father and she’s gonna be just fine. You’re doing a good job.” You remind him, leaning in to kiss along his jaw. “Come on baby, you want me to ride you?” You ask and he nods. You let go of him and he walks over to his nightstand to grab the lube while you kneel on the bed. When he’s laying down, you grab the bottle and squirt some into your hand, wrapping your fingers around his cock to coat him before you swipe your fingers through your folds to make sure you’re slick enough. “Fuck, you’re gonna stretch me out.” You tell him as you straddle him.

“Want to see it.” Dieter pants, chest heaving as he watches you position his cock at your entrance. Moaning your name as you start to sink down on him, he can feel his entire body light up in pleasure at the hot clutch of your cunt. “I love you. I fucking love you.” Dieter cries, his fingers digging into your thighs as you slowly take him deeper, watching your mouth drop open and loving the way you moan his name.

Your eyes close as you slowly sink down onto him. He’s so thick, it stings, but you like that. It’s been so long since you had sex and this is the man you love. Your heart pounds in your chest as your thighs meet his, his cock fully inside of you, and his fingers sink into your flesh. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” He grunts and you giggle, leaning down to kiss along his jaw. “I fucking love you too.” You murmur, licking along his neck until you are biting his earlobe so you can give yourself a moment to adjust to him.

He whines, unable to stop himself from lurching up in pleasure. “Oh did you like that?” You giggle breathlessly, making him moan and turn his head so you can do it again.

“More baby, fuck. Want you to mark me up.” He begs, so starved for attention that he needs to drown in it. His hand squeezes your ass again and it takes concentration to not urge you to move, your walls fluttering so deliciously around him.

You love how desperate he is for you. Biting down on his earlobe again and his cock twitches inside of you. You take pity, finally feeling comfortable, and you shift, rocking on his cock while you nibble on his ear, whispering “you’re mine. I’m gonna make sure everyone sees it.” You smirk as you kiss down his neck, sucking and biting on his skin.

“Fuck yes, I’m yours, I’m yours.” Dieter chants, rocking his hips up to chase your cunt when you lift off of him. Hating even the brief few seconds where he’s not buried inside your warmth. “All yours baby.” He groans, closing his eyes at the pure bliss of being able to touch you, to tell you what he’s thinking without worrying about offending you. “Gonna marry you. Give you everything.” He gasps out.

You moan, “I’m yours too. Been yours since I moved into this house. I’m gonna be your wife.” You promise and he groans, hands caressing your back. You kiss his collarbone and shift back, making his cock sink deeper and you grab his hands to help you balance as you ride his cock. “Fuck. Yes. God, so good. So good inside of me.” You ramble, squeezing his hands as you start to pick up the pace.

“God, fuck, your pussy is gold.” His toes curl and he loves how you start to bounce on his cock. Making your tits away heavily and he watches with them unabashed lust. “So fucking gorgeous.” He pants. “Can’t wait to see you pregnant, riding my cock.”

“One day.” You promise with a grin, breathless from how good this feels. You let go of his hands, leaning back to grab his knees, and you grind down onto his cock, hitting just the right spot to make you gasp. “Fuck, baby. Oh my - I’m - it’s gonna make me cum.” You confess, reaching down to rub your clit.

Dieter frowns and slaps your hand away, pouting up at you. “Let me.” He insists, pressing his thumb to your clit and rubbing a tight circle over the bundle of nerves while you bounce on his cock. “Fuck baby, cum, please cum. I’m gonna -“ he hisses. “Not gonna last. Too fucking tight.” Your walls clenching down around him every other bounce is getting to be too much and he grits his teeth, praying he lasts long enough for you to soak his cock.”

Your moans are getting breathier as you struggle to breathe from the pleasure. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Dieter. I’m gonna - oh!” You moan, clamping down on his cock and soaking him, his thumb still working your clit until your thighs are shaking. “Cum for me.” You beg breathlessly, wanting to feel it as you convulse on top of him from your orgasm.

You don’t have to say anything else. His entire body is aching to cum, gripping your hips harshly as he starts to thrust wildly up into your body. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shiiiiiiiiiit.” Dieter whines, burying his cock half a dozen more times before his back is bowing and he is crying out your name, filling you with hot spurts of his seed.

You pant, collapsing onto his chest as his cock twitches inside of you, and you kiss along his neck. Unable to speak, you enjoy the aftermath of your orgasms. The connection you feel to Dieter has you on cloud nine. He’s a good father and a good man, despite what the paps print. He’s changed for his child and that makes you love him more. “Good?” You ask breathlessly, hoping he enjoyed it as much as you did.

“So fucking good.” Dieter’s eyes are closed and his expression is one of pure relaxation. Enjoying the way you feel on top of him. “God, you’re spending the night right here. Every night from now on.” He slides a hand up and down your back, enjoying the feeling of your slick skin under his palm. “Now we just need the kids to sleep through the night.”

“Soon. They are getting better. And you want another one to keep us awake?” You tease, giggling when his cock twitches inside of you.

“I do.” He promises and you caress his cheek, leaning back to look into his eyes. “Me too. One day.” You lean in to softly kiss his lips, knowing you want this man to be your husband, to be everything. ****

“Diet, babe. Can you get me that - shit.” You hiss after you feel the baby kick your ribcage.

“Bad word mama.” Rosie points at you and you nod, “sorry, love. Mama needs to sit down.” You tell the three year old. Ollie comes over to sit down on the sofa next to you, his small hand on your belly as he leans in to talk to the baby in your belly. Rosie follows suit, wanting to do what her brother is doing.

“Hello baby. It’s me. Your big brother-”

“and sister.” Rosie adds as she leans in to press her ear to your stomach. You smile, tears in your eyes and look up to see Dieter walk into the living room.

“You called baby?” He asks, paint splattered all over him from painting the new nursery.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. Can you- can you get me some ice cream?” You bite your lip, knowing he’s been run ragged with your cravings.

Dieter grins, shoving his hand through his paint flecked hair, although he teases that the gray is because of you and the babies. “What kind of ice cream do you want, babe?” He strides over and rubs your bump before dropping a kiss on your lips. “Rocky road or are you wanting that cheesecake strawberry swirl?” He knows you will probably text him with more cravings, but he doesn’t mind. You are carrying his baby and you get what you want.

You smile at him, loving how flustered he looks when he has to go get your cravings, and you run your fingers over the kids’ heads before they look up at Dieter.

“Can we have ice cream, daddy?” Rosie asks, that pout she definitely got from Dieter on her face.

Oliver nods, “yes! Vanilla.”

Rosie shakes her head, “chocolate!”

You giggle and look at your husband, “I’ll have rocky road. Guess it’s an ice cream day.” You say and the kids cheer, excited to have ice cream.

“Vanilla, chocolate and rocky road.” Dieter nods, smiling down at the kids. He could never deny them much and while they would be considered spoiled, they were very well behaved. “Oh-“ he snaps his fingers. “Before I forget. The management agency called. They found another renter for the house and said that the repairs for the house were minimal, just paint to freshen up.”

True to his word, he had bought you a house, deeded it in your name and hired a management company to handle the day to day issues and repairs. All of the profits were deposited into a bank account that was solely yours, even though you had access to everything of Dieter’s. “So that’s a weight off before the baby comes.”

The money going into that bank account is going to pay for the kids’ college. You won’t use it for yourself, not when you are happily married to Dieter. “Yes. Glad they managed to find another tenant.” You smile, reaching for his hand to kiss the back of it.

“Daddy!” Oliver rushes over to him after shifting off of the sofa.

“Yeah, buddy?” Dieter groans as he bends over to pick him up.

“Can I come? To get ice cream?” He asks and Dieter nods, “of course.” You smile, loving how close Oliver and Dieter are. You adopted Rosie and he adopted Oliver not long after you were married. It felt natural and meant to be. Your little family, complicated but perfect.

“We will be right back. Rosie, you wanna come?” Dieter asks and she shakes her head, climbing onto the sofa.

“I wanna stay with mommy.” You pull her close, “we can watch our show while the boys are out.” You tell her in a playful whisper and she grins.

“We will be back soon.” Dieter promises and you smirk at him, “after ice cream, the kids need to nap. Mommy needs ‘nap time’ too.” You say to Dieter and he smirks back at you, “what mommy wants, mommy gets.” He promises, knowing he wants you to moan his name while the kids are asleep. From Rosie getting shoved into his arms on a random day, to having a family with a baby on the way. Dieter never imagined being a family man but now, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#pedro pascal #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo imagine #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo the bubble

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succubusmelt · 6 months

Note

Can I request SWWSDJ, MDHM, John Doe, and Peter YB with a reader who is pregnant. I don’t know why I just wanna know how they are with a moody Y/N and newborn babies.

Thank you!!! ❤️❤️❤️

I'm sorry I haven't responded in a while... university started and I still haven't adjusted my schedule. I hope you like it.

ALAN ORION

- Alan would be extremely protective and possessive of you during the pregnancy. He would worry constantly about anything harming you or the baby.

- He would insist you move in fully with him so he can take care of your every need. Alan would make sure you are well fed and always comfortable. He loves indulging you with food like pancakes and eggs.

- Alan would be very excited yet nervous about becoming a father. He wants nothing more than to have a family with you but worries he may not be the best at it since he was mostly alone in the woods for so long.

- He loves touching and talking to your baby bump. Alan finds it amazing that you two created new life together. He might even talk or coo to the baby through your belly.

- Sex would be off limits while pregnant but Alan would find other ways to be intimate like romantic baths, massages, and lots of cuddling. He still wants to satisfy your needs and be close to you.

- At night he would watch you sleep even more closely and protectively. Alan wants to ensure nothing disturbs you or endangers the pregnancy.

- Come the birth, Alan would insist on being right by your side through it all. He wouldn't want to miss a moment. Alan would also be very hands on helping care for the baby after its born.

- Fatherhood would make Alan clingier and more territorial than ever. He finds you even more perfect for creating his family.

SUNNY DAY JACK

- Jack is absolutely overjoyed with the news of your pregnancy. He becomes even more attentive and protective towards you, making sure you have everything you need and taking extra care of you during this special time.

- Jack becomes extremely protective of you and the baby, constantly ensuring your safety and well-being. He's always by your side, guiding you through your pregnancy journey with love and support.

- Jack spoils you with attention and affection. He pampers you with massages, prepares your favorite meals (particularly craving cravings), and takes care of household chores to ensure you can rest and relax.

- Jack is there to listen and provide emotional support whenever you need it. Pregnancy can bring about a rollercoaster of emotions, and Jack is always ready with open arms and a comforting presence to reassure you and make you feel loved.

- As a former children's show presenter, Jack knows the importance of a healthy lifestyle. He encourages you to eat nutritious foods, go for regular walks, and takes care of your overall well-being. He may even show off his cooking skills by preparing delicious and wholesome meals for you.

- Jack cherishes every opportunity to bond with the baby. He talks to your growing belly, sings lullabies, and even performs silly little shows just for the baby's entertainment. He believes in creating a strong connection with the baby even before they arrive.

- Jack actively participates in preparing for the arrival of the baby. He helps with setting up the nursery, picking out baby clothes, and reading parenting books to ensure he's well-equipped to be the best parent possible.

- Jack shares in your excitement and eagerly anticipates the arrival of your little one. He constantly reassures you that he will be there to support you through labor and be the best co-parent alongside you.

- Being a ghost, Jack has a unique ability to connect with the baby in ways others cannot. He may gently hover his hand over your belly to feel the baby's movements or use his ghostly presence to soothe the baby when they're being fussy.

- Jack adores your pregnant body and finds you even more beautiful. He showers you with compliments and loves having intimate moments with you, cherishing the connection between you, the baby, and himself.

- Throughout your pregnancy, Jack's love and devotion to you only strengthen. He sees this time as a precious milestone in your lives and is committed to being the best partner and co-parent he can be, cherishing every moment as a family.

PETER KING

- Peter treats darling's pregnancy with the utmost care and affection.

- He is constantly doting on darling, giving them foot rubs to ease their tiredness and seeing to their every craving even in the middle of the night.

- Peter talks tenderly to the baby, resting his large hands on darling's stomach so he can feel the kicks. He is already besotted with his child.

- To help darling feel safe, Peter has Rat coil protectively around their waist each night as they sleep. Though usually mischievous, even Rat knows to be on its best behavior for the duration of the pregnancy.

- Peter worries endlessly about darling and ensures the doctor gives them only the finest prenatal care. Money is no object when it comes to darling's health and comfort.

- Each morning he wakes darling with a breakfast in bed including their favorite pastries, fresh fruit, and a good luck kiss placed gently on their bump.

- Peter is over the moon at the thought of having a family with darling and will be the best father -and husband- he can possibly be.

JOHN DOE

- John is extremely protective of his loved ones, including his pregnant partner. He becomes even more attentive and vigilant during this time, constantly ensuring the safety and well-being of both the mother and the unborn child.

- Being a shape-shifter, John can adapt his body to provide physical support and comfort to his pregnant partner. He can transform into a cushion or a soft surface for her to rest on, alleviating any discomfort or strain.

- John is highly aware of the changes happening in his partner's body during pregnancy. He educates himself on the subject, gathering information from various sources to better understand the process and support her in the best way possible.

- Despite his possessive nature, John recognizes the importance of giving his partner space and respecting her boundaries during pregnancy. He understands that her body is going through significant changes and ensures he is there for her emotionally without being overbearing.

- John is always ready to fulfill any cravings or desires his partner may have during pregnancy. He happily goes out of his way to satisfy her needs, whether it's midnight food runs or preparing her favorite snacks.

- Due to his innocence and lack of understanding of human norms, John may unintentionally overstep boundaries with his physical affection. He may need gentle reminders from his partner or other trusted individuals about appropriate boundaries and personal space.

- John's protective nature extends beyond just physical safety. He becomes hyper-aware of potential dangers or threats to his partner and takes extra precautions to keep her safe, such as accompanying her to doctor's appointments or avoiding potentially harmful situations.

- John's curiosity is piqued during his partner's pregnancy as he witnesses the development of new life. He eagerly learns about fetal development and eagerly engages in conversations about the baby's future.

- As the due date approaches, John becomes increasingly excited and anxious. He assists in preparing the nursery, gathering baby essentials, and ensuring everything is in order for the arrival of their child.

- Throughout the pregnancy, John showers his partner with love, affection, and support. He embraces the role of a dedicated partner, providing emotional stability and reassurance during this transformative time in their lives.

#John Doe #Alan Orion #Sunny Day Jack #Peter King #mdhm #my dear hatchet man #alan orion x reader #somethings wrong with sunny day jack #sunny day jack x reader #john doe x you

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obessedwithfictionalmen · 2 months

Text

Co-Stars pt.4

Summary: Y/n post something interesting...

Warning: Sexism/ use of Y/n/ Swearing/

A/n: > Means Y/n's replies

Word count: 890 words

@Official_Y/n

@Official_Y/n: Guess who?

Liked by 78 345

Comments:

@User5710: Mother posting!!!!

@Y/n_fan214: Soft lauch?!

@TimotheChalamet: Ew, there's children on this app. > Okay🙂

@Austin_Butler: 🫣 > Sush Elvis

@User9261: Did she just shushed Austin Butler? > She did 💅

@Dua_Lipa: That back tho! 🫨 > 🏋‍♀️💪💅

After her post, the Internet was like the volcano that flooded Pompei with lava: Smoking hot. Everyone was talking about the guy in the picture and how intimate they looked. Of course, everyone thought about Callum, and they were right, but they didn’t know it. So, when Y/n, Austin, Anthony and Callum went on the Graham Norton show, they were expecting questions about it.

‘’So, Y/n obviously you got a lot of attention this week, because of this’’ Her post appears on the screen. Anthony starts to chuckle. ‘’I know, my back looks great’’ she says, avoiding the question. ‘’You look amazing, but the real question is: Who is the gentleman in the two pictures?’’ Two red arrows pointing at the men in the pictures appears on the screen. ‘’I can’t see him, maybe point it to me’’ she says, sarcastically of course. The publics starts to laugh. ‘’I mean there’s a gentleman in my life, I won’t say who, but yeah. Thought I’d tease the internet a little’’ she says, crossing her legs. ‘’Boys do you know who he is?’’ Graham asked the 3 men. ‘’Yeah, I met him, he’s really nice’’ Anthony says. ‘’He’s amazing, he takes care of my best friend, and that’s all that counts’’ Callum says. Y/n has to bite the inside of her cheek to prevent her from laughing. Hearing Callum talk about himself at the 3rd person almost makes her laugh and blow away the surprise. ‘’Like they said, he’s a really nice guy. Really fun too, we had some great conversations with him. Awesome guy’’ Austin adds. ‘’But what about Callum?’’ Graham asks. ‘’What about him?’’ Y/n asks. ‘’W-w-well you guys. T-t-the internet ships you together!’’ he stutters. Y/n direct answer took him by surprise. ‘’We also have a video of Callum and a mystery lady, let’s take a look’’ What video? Shit?! It showed a video of Callum making out with Y/n, but we couldn’t see her face, it was badly filmed because the only action we could see was between the crack of the door. Y/n tried not to react, and she was hoping that Callum would improvise something. ‘’Graham, I’m sorry, but we’re here to promote our show, Master of the Air, not trying to get to the bottom of the rumors of who’s Y/n dating and Callum’s privacy being invaded’’ Austin said, as calmly as possible. ‘’Austin’s right, plus we have great things to talk about other than Y/n’s dating life.’’ Anthony added the woman smiled to the blonde, who just saved their life. ‘’You’re right, I’m sorry, so Anthony…’’ Graham didn’t talk about relationships that night. When the interview was over and they got backstage, Y/n hugged Austin. ‘’Thank you so freaking much’’ she said. ‘’Thank you, Austin, I really appreciate it’’ Callum said. ‘’Don’t worry we got you’’ Anthony said.

After Austin and Anthony’s intervention, the people calmed down on the question, but the internet could still see their chemistry. Callum and Y/n still liked to tease the internet, but they calmed down too. Until the premier in the U.S.A, they kissed at the final premiere, in London. The one in the United-States was the before last premiere they all did. Y/n came on the carpet with a very reviling designer piece that the fans started to speculate.

She didn’t want to come on the carpet dressed like this, but the designer put a lot of effort into the piece, so she wore it. But she already had a team ready inside the movie theater to change her outfit. When she stepped out the car, she felt very vulnerable, she arrived alone this time, she was already gonna get attention for her outfit, she didn’t more publicity. She walked on the red carpet, until she reached her co-stars. ‘’Y/n here! Show us your tits!’’ a male fan yelled, making her very uncomfortable. Callum, who had seen the scene, felt really bad for his girlfriend. He wanted to help her, but if he gave her his jacket, the rumors would just be unbearable, they like to tease the internet, but not like that. ‘’Austin, can you go give your jacket to Y/n, she’s really uncomfortable’’ he whispered. He nodded than went forward, to give Y/n his jacket. ‘’With your boyfriends’ compliments’’ he said, not wanting to be suspicious. She put the jacket on and continued her way on the carpet. They finally did a group photo, after they could go inside, and Y/n could change. ‘’Come on Y/n, you’re not afraid to be shirtless on Instagram! We want to see the tits!’’ another male fan yelled. The guys were all in shook of what they just heard. But Y/n took all the confidence she had left and stepped forward. ‘’Maybe ask politely’’ she gave the men a fake smile before showing him her middle finger. The flash of the camera doubled; she was certainly going to get attention now. But what she didn’t realise was that the hole cast was flipping the guy off. Callum was the first to follow is girlfriend in giving the middle finger, the rest just followed.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t her outfit that made the front page, it was the picture of the cast giving the finger to the sexist fan. They didn’t talk about the fact that it was disrespectful, they talked about the fact that men were supporting woman and how it should always be like this. The cast of Master of the Air were now icons in the feminist movement. All thanks to Callum…

#callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #callum turner #co star #master of the air #austin butler #anthony boyle

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l1tw1ck · 1 year

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Being Taken Care Of

bottom!ftm!yandere!nurse character x top!masc reader

☆ AFAB Language Used ☆

Character can be imagined as anyone

CW: Non-Con, Somnophilia, Forced Pregnancy/Baby Trapping

Since you were hospitalized, you were assigned a nurse to keep an eye on you. You stayed in the hospital for a few months and love began to blossom. Albeit one sided.

When this man falls in love, he falls. Deep. His love is much different than that of a regular person’s. He loves you so much that he's willing to kill anyone who gets in his way. And he’ll go to any extent to be with you. Any extent.

It's nighttime and he offered to stay the night with you because you apparently reported pain at night and you’re unable to get any help for it. He wouldn't get paid for the overnight stay since you didn't ask for it, but that doesn't matter to him at all. What matters is that he has you all to himself. He strips down to nothing but a pretty lingerie set, the color matching him perfectly, and climbs on top of your sleeping body. He tugs your hospital gown upwards and it looks like you're happy to see him. Or you’re just having a wet dream. He pretends it's the former.

You groan in your sleep as a warmth suddenly envelops your length. He lets out a satisfied sigh as you bottom out, your cock fitting snugly inside him. You remain asleep as he rides you, you just think you’re having an amazing dream.

Your expression twists and your cock pulses as you feel your orgasm approaching. A large grin grows on your nurse's face. “Yes! Co- come inside me~! Gimme your babies~!” He whisper yells, riding you faster. “Get me pregnant, [Name]~! Fill my tummy up with your cum~!” He bites his lip, feeling him getting close to an orgasm as well. You come first, shooting hot and thick ropes of semen into his womb. He stops moving and arches his back, coming with a quiet whimper. You wake up to the sight of your nurse with a crazed look in his eyes. It doesn't take too long for you to realize the situation you're in.

He covers your mouth and starts riding you again, he wants to make sure he’s pregnant. He can't let you leave him.

He’ll get fired for this but he loves you too much to care.

extra:

Much to his dismay, he never got pregnant. No matter how many times he tried, so he chose a different path. Although he was lucky in one way, you never told anyone what happened. Not because you enjoyed it, but because you assumed he was intoxicated the whole time. With the way he was acting, the thought didn't seem far off. You felt bad about reporting him, even though you shouldn't have. Once you got discharged from the hospital, he followed you home and drugged you. He made sure you were helpless as he dragged you into the backseat of his car. He drove you to his house and brought you down to his basement.

You struggled for a few weeks. You didn't give in to the warm, wonderful feeling of his pussy until your 6th week. You started to realize that it isn't so bad. He could be doing worse. You became more open to his advances and he eventually let you walk around the house. You had no intention of leaving as his constant manipulation already wore you down. He convinced you that your only purpose is to be with him. So you cooked, cleaned, and fucked him. You adapted a new role as his house husband and you truly believed that you loved him.

#wicks🕯shorts #top male reader #male reader #oc x reader #male reader smut #yandere x reader #yandere x male reader #yandere smut #tw noncon #dark content #male yandere #bottom character #🕯️OC

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the-boy-meets-evil · 8 months

Text

with the band | ksy

pairing: drummer!soonyoung x journalist!f!reader genre: 70s!au, band!au, fluff, smut, tiny bit of angstsummary: you’re fresh out of college with big dreams about changing the world with your words on a page. The last thing you expect is to end up covering a tour and you certainly don’t expect to fight falling for the drummer. rating: explicit, minors dni word count: ~8.2k (i literally don't know, don't @ me, it was supposed to be short) warnings: brief mention of drinking, brief mention of assumed infidelity (not actual), reader mentions difficulties of male dominated profession and being a woman, 1 mention of drinking, explicit smut: kissing, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do this), multiple orgasms, oral sex (f. receiving), briefest handjob/blowjob, reader is a little obsessed with hoshi's arms, hoshi picks reader up 1 time, idk i think that's it

a/n: this is for @svthub's 70s;teen collab and i'm so thankful that i got to take part in it. make sure you check out all the other amazing fics here! also a massive thank you to my bby indi @classicscreations for another last minute banner with minimal info from me. ily. (this is unbeta'd because i finished it late sorry!)

When you went to school, you had all these big dreams. It’s easier for women to get an education now, universities that had been single sex are going co-ed, and women are allowed to have ideas. You feel excited about your future. You’re going to change the world. At least, that’s what you think.

Before you know it, graduation is around the corner and it’s time to try to find a job with your journalism degree. While you’ve become a standout contributor at your school paper, this is entirely different. Your big dreams start to feel a little deflated. Sure, you can get a job at a big newspaper, like you’ve always wanted, you just have to be fine with being the assistant to someone else. Getting their coffee and lunch orders, handling their schedule, fetching dry cleaning. And it’s not that you mind paying your dues, you don’t. You know that you’re going to have to work your ass off just to get that chance. But you’re not sure you can take the chance of getting boxed into being someone’s assistant. Close enough to get a hint of the story while never actually writing it yourself.

As you’re about to take one of the positions you’re so opposed to, you happen to get to know someone from the infamous Rolling Stone magazine. It’s not really your style, the whole sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll scene. You don’t feel like you know more than the average person when it comes to music. Music is great, you like it, and you’ve covered the occasional show for your school paper. It’s just not where you feel comfortable. However, as your new contact points out, they’re more than music. They’re culture and politics and just the heartbeat of the country. So, okay, why not take a shot? The worst that happens is they say no and you still have the papers to fall back on.

You don’t need to fall back. They like your writing at Rolling Stone, like your perspective. They like your honesty most of all, that sticks out. Someone tells you that they can tell exactly what you think about something and it’s exactly what they’re looking for. Maybe later, you’ll look back and wonder if this was really the right fit. If you knew what you were getting into. All you can do when you get the offer is say yes. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime, you tell yourself, to actually get to say something right away. Who cares what you’re talking about? If there’s one thing you know how to do, it’s form an opinion.

Several months into the job, you actually like it a lot more than you expected you would. Yeah, there’s a lot of partying, a lot of drinking, a lot of other things you’re not going to mention. But, the world is changing and you want to be there for it.

As much as you initially expected to join Rolling Stone for the culture and political pieces, you’ve written just as many pieces about music. There’s a human element to it that draws you in, a commentary on the artists and what they’re trying to say. You don’t think twice when your boss assigns you to cover a show in the area. A big group is headlining, something you know will draw everyone out, but your boss wants you to pay attention to the other acts. Find out if there’s a story.

You’re somewhere in an open staff room before the show, taking time to catch up with people you know through work, through other shows, just from being around the area. It’s there that you hear the commotion outside the room. It sounds like a group of girls reacting to someone, probably one of the musicians. Seconds later, the musician in question opens the door, smiling softly over his shoulder and calling out a string of thank yous before heading around the corner.

It’s familiar with the shows you’ve covered. He’s hiding out from the fans that hang around and try to get closer to them. Some of them are familiar with the staff, both for the groups and the venues, though, and they come and go as they please. He seems to realize this and rushes over to your table, sits down in an empty seat and tries to look like he belongs.

“What’s the low down?” he asks without preamble.

You’re caught off guard for a lot of reasons. The first is that you have no idea who this man, with his short hair and denim shirt actually is. He looks like a musician, probably could be a member of one of the other, smaller groups playing tonight. He seems like he’s probably in his mid-20s. But you don’t know him. The second reason is that you’re not really sure what he’s asking.

“With what?” you finally ask.

“The group of girls hanging around outside,” he supplies. Of course.

“This your first show or something?” you ask.

“Not exactly,” he says. “I mostly did studio work until I replaced the guy before me in Moonwalker. They needed a new drummer.”

“I’m sure you had plenty of girls hanging around the studio,” you say.

“Including you?” he wonders. “I’m Soonyoung, by the way.”

You give him your name in return. “And no, I write for Rolling Stone.”

That catches his interest in the way it always does with musicians. They all want to be in the magazine, want to know they’ve made it. Just as many want to make sure whatever’s published about them is positive, paints them in a good light. It’s why your boss has always stressed to remember the musicians aren’t your friends. That’s never been an issue for you, so you’ll continue to chat with Soonyoung. Try to see if his band might be the one you pitch to your boss.

He wants to keep talking, you can tell, but a man that looks like a manager pops his head into the room. Once his eyes land on Soonyoung, he’s calling him away. The rest of the band is going over something pre-show and they need him. Soonyoung looks back at you.

“Catch ya later?” Soonyoung asks it as a question instead of making it a statement.

“Maybe,” you answer, noncommittal.

The next day at work you fill your boss in about the show and pitch Moonwalker for a feature. They’re young and hungry, saying a lot with their music, and there were almost as many fans there to see them as there were to see the headliner. Culturally and musically, they’re relevant. If you can get the jump on this story, you might even be able to beat out the competition. Which is always a gamble. You don’t have some magic 8 ball telling you if these guys are the real deal.

After your boss loops in a couple of the big music guys at the magazine, he agrees that you can try to get the story. If the band will let you go to the next several stops, and actually answer your questions, your boss will sign off on it. Well, you have to stay on top of your other assignments too, but you assure him that won’t be an issue.

Three days later you’re headed to your first stop on the tour. Their manager had initially been skeptical, but called back a few hours after the pitch. Apparently Soonyoung had asked if it would be you doing the story, said you seemed cool, and the rest of the band was eager for the exposure. So you packed your bags and got on the next bus out to meet them on their tour. From there, you would be traveling with the band. That had also come with the warning from your boss and colleagues, a reminder that the guys in the band weren’t your friends and the women who traveled with them were even less so. Not that it was news to you.

(And not that you’re thinking about the phone call you got after work that night.

“Hello?” You’re balancing the phone against your ear as you sort through some recent mail.

“Hey! This is Soonyoung!” comes a cheery voice on the other end.

“Oh, uh, hi,” you say. “How did you get my number?”

“My manager called the magazine for a couple last minute questions and they gave him this number,” Soonyoung answers.

You’re wondering why your boss, always worrying about keeping those lines firmly in place, gave out your personal number. But that’s an issue for another day.

“So you’re hitting the road,” Soonyoung carries on. “You must’ve been into our sound.”

“You’re different and the crowd seemed to dig it,” you say.

“Can’t wait to catch you on the trail,” Soonyoung finishes.)

The band is funny to be around, you think. It’s a little like herding children at times, even though they’re a few years older than you. But their attention is constantly somewhere and rarely on the question you’re asking. Which should be frustrating, except that Soonyoung is always looking over at you with an apology in his eyes. Always filling in every answer that he can with this band he’s gotten used to at light speed.

You do get your answers, though. Answers about everything from how the band got together to where they see themselves going to what they think about where the country is headed. In between the booze and the women and the drugs, you’re able to piece together who this group actually is and what they’re about. The more you learn, the more you want to learn. The more you relate to the things they’re saying. For the first time in your career, you’re actually wondering if you can capture the energy of this band when you put it to paper. Can you capture the way they vibe together? Can you capture the way the singer mesmerizes an entire crowd? Can you capture the way Soonyoung goes from smiling and happy to laser focused on stage? There’s magic in seeing them perform live.

There’s also the small matter of getting too close to them. Or to one of them in particular. From the beginning you knew that Soonyoung would be a problem. He’s too loud and he’s not all that smooth, but there’s a real tenderness to him. There’s a softness to his approach that you weren’t quite expecting. The first time he invites you to hang out with the band after a show, you ignore it. It’s easy. You’re thinking of the advice from your boss and your coworkers. The second and third times are easy too. Well, easy enough. You say no and go back to your room to work on notes for the story.

Except, that’s when it changes. You get on the phone with your boss, tell me how much bigger the story is becoming than you ever anticipated. There’s so much more than just the band, from the backgrounds of the members, to the lyrics of their songs, to where they see themselves heading. Three members, including Soonyoung, are the children of immigrants in this country. Where you expect push back from your boss, instead you’re met with agreement. Stay on the road, you’ve been on top of your assignments. He’ll give you more words for the piece you’re writing. Just carry on, he loves all the notes and ideas he’s seen so far.

It’s exactly what you’re hoping for and yet there’s still a feeling in the pit of your stomach like things are about to change. Not because this is a big article, though it is. You’ve never been given more than a thousand words and you have three thousand now. It’s more than just a chance. Yet you’re still unsettled about something.

It’s another day. Another set of pre-show questions, a depth to each band members’ background, an insight in the process of writing songs, even a little bit of a look into why each of them got into music in the first place. The leader of the band and the manager are more reserved, concerned with how the group will come across when you write this article. They’re always asking what you’ll say or if they can see the article before it comes out.

Your answer is always the same: no. But, you assure them that you’re not in this to ruin their careers. What would be the point? Who would want to answer your questions moving forward? You just want to paint an honest picture of what they’re like and what they’re about.

Post show is the same song and dance as always. Soonyoung asks for you to come by their routine after-party. You see the way some of the other hangers-on watch for your answer, seem annoyed that he’s asking yet again when you’ve said no every other time. You say no, like every other time, and watch the smiles that form instantly on the faces of those who drag Soonyoung off. His eyes stay on you even after you turn around to head to your room.

That’s where the similarities stop. You’re reading over your notes at the desk in your dingy hotel room. It’s far too late and the lighting is awful, but you want to make sure you get it all down before you forget. You also want to test out a few sentences or even passages to send back to your boss. The article really has taken shape in your head and you’re excited to actually write it.

A knock at the door pulls you from your thoughts about word choice. You figure it’s probably just some drunk person looking for the band and getting the room wrong. Or looking for friends after the show. It’s not like that would be the first time. So you don’t consider that you’re not really dressed for company.

“Hey,” from a voice that’s entirely too familiar.

There’s a moment when you’re both just looking at each other. You’re trying to figure out what he’s doing here and why he doesn’t seem drunk. He’s taking in your open bathroom over your nightgown. After another moment, you pull the bathrobe closed, definitely too late by the smirk playing on Soonyoung’s mouth.

“Uh, what are you doing here?” you ask after clearing your throat.

“I wanted to see what was so important that kept you from hanging with us,” Soonyoung answers. “‘M I interrupting something?”

“Yes, actually,” you say before you can think better.

“Really?” he challenges.

“I was writing,” you rush out. “I don’t have my typewriter here but I’ve been putting passages together.”

“And that couldn’t wait til morning to hang out with us? See what we’re like outside of the venue?” Soonyoung presses.

“I’ve seen you outside the venues,” you argue. “And it’s not that it’s keeping me from hanging out with you.”

“Then what is?” he asks.

“We’re not friends, Soonyoung, and you’ve got plenty of people to keep you distracted,” you offer with an eye roll.

“They’re not that distracting…or entertaining,” he says and you actually laugh.

“They’ll be heartbroken,” you muse.

“Let me come in for a drink,” Soonyoung presses. “It’s rude to leave company in the hall.”

“I don’t have anything to drink,” you say, almost regretful.

“I do,” Soonyoung says, holding up a six pack.

This is dumb, a terrible idea. It’s exactly what your boss warned you about. But you step to the side anyway and let Soonyoung walk around you. With a look down the hallway to confirm nobody saw him, you close the door.

“What are you doing here, really?” you ask.

Soonyoung settles on the edge of the bed and opens one of the beers. He holds one out to you and you take it. He’s already inside the room, might as well appreciate something free to drink.

“I don’t know, I like being around you. There’s more to you than most of the people that hang around the band,” Soonyoung says.

“That’s because I’m not just hanging around the band. I’m here working,” you reason.

“And that means you can’t have fun?” Soonyoung wonders.

“I am having fun,” you disagree.

“You know what I mean,” he says, not letting you get away with it. You hesitate, unsure where to go from here. “You don’t have to tell me, but I’m interested in you. I want to actually know you in the way you’re getting to know us. I’m laying myself bare and you don’t have to do the same, I just want to know you.”

Which is fair, isn’t it? Of all the band members, Soonyoung has been the most open, the most honest about who he is, what he’s about, and where he wants to go. So you make the decision you probably always were going to make. You sit down on the bed next to him, instead of leaving space by sitting in the chair, and you start to tell him who you are. Nothing feels off limits from your struggles in a male-dominated field to your family life to your past relationships. To his credit, he’s a good listener. His face is so expressive and open that you find yourself saying more than you have to anyone in ages.

As you continue to talk, your beers sit largely untouched. Soonyoung’s taken a few sips, but mostly his eyes have been focused on you, like he’s looking for the things your face is saying that your words aren’t. Somewhere it progresses from you talking about who you are to the two of you talking about anything that comes up. It’s not a level of comfort you were ever expecting to feel in a place like this. It’s also really difficult to remember what your boss said.

“So we’re not friends, huh?” Soonyoung asks during a lull.

“Oh, well…” you stutter.

He laughs. “Luckily I’m not so easily scared off.”

“It’s just, my boss…well he warned me not to get too close to you,” you admit.

“Me specifically?” Soonyoung asks.

“No, the band as a whole,” you answer without meeting his eyes.

You start when Soonyoung’s finger lifts your chin up to meet his eyes. It’s hard to meet them when you feel like he sees through you. “I think you seem smart enough to make that call for yourself, don’t you?”

All you can do is nod. That seems to make him happy. You feel more exposed though, more raw. Even more so when you remember that you’re only in your nightgown and bathrobe. Without even realizing it, you pull the bathrobe closed again.

“Do you want me to go?” Soonyoung’s voice is quiet, not a whisper but deep with something else. The entire mood shifts.

You shake your head immediately. This time it’s not enough.

“I need to hear you,” he says.

“No, Soonyoung, I don’t want you to go,” you say quietly.

His fingers are on your chin again, soft enough that you could pull away if you wanted to. Which you don’t. His voice is still low, thick with something you now realize is desire. It’s the same feeling you got when you extended your trip following Moonwalker on the road. And it’s definitely trouble.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, voice gentle like he has to be careful with you.

You nod again before considering if he needs to hear you. He doesn’t. Not this time. His lips meet yours gently, so soft like he’s not really sure it’s happening. Like he’s worried this is all a dream. You’re kind of worried about that too, but you’re not sure if it would be better that way. If this should all just be something you’re dreaming up instead of something that’s actually happening.

It’s not enough, you open your mouth and he takes it as an invitation almost immediately. The kiss deepens, becomes a little more insistent and a little more desperate. He’s testing the waters at the same time. One hand rests on your bare thigh and the other slides up your neck into your hair, anchoring you to his mouth. You gasp a bit at the firmness. It’s a different side to him than you’ve seen. Well, except when he’s on stage. He’s just as focused then as he is now.

But it’s not quite enough and you’re not really sure what makes you adjust. You’ve never really been someone to be forward, not like this. So you’re not really sure why you readjust to straddle his lap. Not that he’s complaining. His groan is low, from the back of his throat, as you settle on top of him. For a moment, you’re aware that you’re still just in your nightgown.

Until Soonyoung’s hands run along the bare skin of your thighs and you shiver under his touch. Until his fingers dig into your skin, just hard enough to anchor you but not so hard it’ll leave marks. Until your own fingers find their purchase in Soonyoung’s hair, shorter than you’re used to on men, yet perfect for him. You’re not used to straddling someone like this either, so you try not to move too much. Except when you need to adjust because your knees aren’t comfortable as they’re digging into the mattress. That single movement drags your core across his lap and pulls a deep groan from him. You can feel him hardening when he jerks his hips up into you.

Soonyoung moves one hand up your back, underneath the nightgown so his fingers are on your skin. His other hand holds the back of your head so you can’t stop kissing him. Then he’s leaning back onto the bed, bringing you with him so that now you’re on top of him. You feel a little out of your element like this, not entirely used to being the one in control. Even if the control is an illusion and it really rests with Soonyoung. It’s like he can sense that and wraps his strong arms around you to flip the two of you over. He breaks the kiss only for a moment as he’s hovering over to look down at you. You’re sure you blush under his attention, there’s so much affection. Then you’re kissing again.

You know where this is heading, know and don’t want to stop it. His hips rut against your core more as the kisses continue to intensify and you want more. Need more than the friction with too much clothing between you. You’re about to pull his shirt off, have your fingers on the hem, when there’s a loud banging on the door. It startles you both from your little bubble. After a second, the banging starts again.

You reluctantly slide out from underneath Soonyoung to go look out the peephole. Something you did not do when he showed up. It’s one of his bandmates. You crack the door open and try to act like you’d been sleeping.

“Hey sorry, we’re looking for Soon, have you seen him?” he asks.

You pretend to yawn and shake your head. “Sorry, been sleeping.”

“Huh, well sorry,” he says and is gone before you can say anything else.

Soonyoung is behind you before the door even closes, wrapping his arms around you and holding you back against his chest. He presses a soft kiss behind your ear, gentle like his first kiss.

“I should probably go before they come back,” he whispers against your skin.

“About what I said,” you begin, turning around in his arms to face him.

“S’okay, I get it,” he assures you. He places the gentlest kiss on your lips. “I know what you’re dealing with.”

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

“And maybe we’ll get to continue this,” Soonyoung offers. He sounds like he’s trying to be nonchalant, but his face gives away how badly he wants you to agree.

“God, yes, please,” you respond. You don’t care how you sound when his face lights up. That’s all you need.

The next day has you packing up and heading to the next city. Road days are actually some of your favorite because it’s just you with the people on the bus. It’s a much smaller group than at the venues or at the hotel afterwards. It also gives you a better glimpse into who Moonwalker are outside of the performances. You see how they interact, how they approach conversations, what they do to fill their time.

Of course, now, Soonyoung wants to be around you whenever he can. A fact entirely too obvious to some of the people on the bus. He accepts that you want to keep some amount of distance, doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. The two of you just kind of gravitate together anyway. Whether it’s sitting near each other on the bus or stopping at the same places for food when you stop. Most people seem to write it off as how he’s been with you the entire time. Most don’t realize that you’re seeking him out almost as much now.

You get enough time without prying ears to let him know that you don’t want to distract him the night before a show. You also know how their manager can be, so you think it’s best for him to be in the bed that he’s supposed to be in. He pouts for a second but understands. You’re trying to keep at least the appearance of separation.

The day of the next show finds you in the lobby waiting for some coffee and something to eat when a woman breezes in through the open doors. You hate to generalize, but she looks like a lot of the other women that hang around bands, except a little more confident. A little more sure of herself or her position. Maybe she’s someone’s girlfriend. You’re sure that whatever Moonwalker gets up to on the road, at least some of them are in relationships. Not Soonyoung, you’re sure he would’ve mentioned it.

For some reason, the woman approaches you after speaking to someone at the desk. She’s glamorous up close, for lack of a better way to put it, but maybe not as confident as you’d initially thought.

“Is this where Moonwalker is staying?” she asks without preamble.

“Uh, yeah,” you answer.

“Oh good, I’ve been looking for Soonyoung and I keep missing his stops,” she says with a smile.

Your stomach drops and you do everything you can not to let your face show how bothered you are. She’s looking for who?

“Soonyoung?” you ask. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to pick up on your distress.

“It’s an unusual name, I know, but he’s the drummer for Moonwalker,” she carries on.

“Uh, I haven’t seen him today,” you offer.

“I wasn’t expecting you had, you’re clearly not a groupie,” she says with a slightly sympathetic smile. You’re not really sure what to do with that. “But he’s staying here?”

“Yeah, they’re staying here,” you confirm. “Who are you?”

“Oh well I’m his…well it’s complicated, but we’re seeing each other,” she says.

“Right,” is all you can muster.

“Who are you?” she asks.

You give your name. “I write for Rolling Stone.”

“You’re a journalist?” She asks the question with all the surprise and disdain of someone that thinks only men can write.

“I am,” you confirm and stand up. “It’s been great speaking, I’m sure Soonyoung will be around soon. They haven’t left for the venue yet.”

You’re off before she can say anything else without coffee or the snack you’d been looking for. Before the tour, you never drank coffee in the afternoons because of the caffeine. Now, you’re staying up much later.

Once you’re back in your room, you let yourself cry. For so many reasons. For breaking the rule and getting so close to Soonyoung. For allowing yourself to feel something for him. For being stupid enough to think he felt something for you too. For how hard it’s going to be to carry on with this story now that you know who he really is. For having to separate personal from professional. For all the things that could have been.

You keep your distance from Soonyoung through the rest of the day and the show. He’s visibly confused when you make excuse after excuse to walk away or talk to someone else. But why should he be? Surely the woman ended up finding him after speaking to you and surely she’s waiting somewhere for him. Why should he keep bothering with you?

It’s not until you’re back in your room post-show that you start to plan your next steps. You’re scheduled to join the band for at least 3 more shows. It’s what you and your boss agreed to. And it was fine, before everything happened with Soonyoung. Could you find a way to convince your boss that you do actually have enough for the article and it’s time to come home? Maybe. You’ll have to start thinking of good reasons.

It’s during this inner monologue that you hear a quiet knock at the door. You know who it’s going to be before you even open the door. Soonyoung stands on the other side looking much more subdued than normal. He looks sad, maybe even hurt.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

His voice sounds just as sad as he looks, which causes anger to flare in you for a moment. What reason does he have to be hurt? But you step aside anyway because this isn’t a conversation to have in the doorway where anyone could overhear.

“What is it?” you ask once you’re both inside. He sits on the edge of your bed and you take the chair at the desk.

“What’s wrong?” he asks in response.

“What do you mean what’s wrong?” you ask louder than you intended.

“Everything was good and we were on the same page, what changed?” Soonyoung asks.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe you having a girlfriend? I met her in the lobby this afternoon, she was looking for you,” you fire back.

Soonyoung goes quiet. Not like he’s been caught, like he’s confused. Like he doesn’t know what you mean. Then his face changes into one of annoyance. “Do you mean Mary?”

“I’m not sure, Soonyoung, how many girlfriends do you have?” you ask, irritated.

“None,” he insists and then describes the woman from earlier.

“Sounds right, she didn’t mention her name,” you agree.

Soonyoung huffs out an overly annoyed sigh. “That’s not my girlfriend and again, I do not have a girlfriend…”

“Girlfriend, friend, groupie, whatever,” you dismiss. “I’m not interested in the drama.”

“Neither am I,” Soonyoung insists. You want to believe him. His face is so kind, so honest. But this is why you don’t get involved with the band.

“I want to believe you,” you start.

“Then believe me,” Soonyoung pleads. “Mary used to hang around at the studio I worked at before coming on this tour. I was nice to her, we chatted a couple times, but I never even got her number. I never even went out with her or kissed her or anything. I have no idea why she showed up here.”

“You promise?” you ask.

Soonyoung is off the bed and coming to kneel before you in a single move. He takes your hands in his, so still and serious. Like nothing else matters.

“I promise you, there is nothing going on there. The only person I’m interested in getting to know is you,” he says.

“Soonyoung,” you caution.

“I know, your career, the article, all of it, I get it,” Soonyoung assures you. “I’m willing to take whatever you can give me.”

It’s dumb. You know it’s dumb. And you don’t care because this man in front of you is doing more than you ever expected. So you lean forward to kiss him and feel him smile against your lips. The next second, he hoists you up (you’re thankful for that drummer arm strength) and carries you to the bed. He’s so gentle when he puts you down, so careful to make sure you don’t hit your head on the headboard.

And then his lips are on yours again, kissing you so fiercely that you lose your breath. His hands wander your body like he’s trying to map every piece of you. Every curve, every spot, every place that makes you shudder. His lips on you are a constant, keeping you grounded in this moment, allowing it to feel like more than a dream. His hands wander up the skirt you wore to the show earlier. You had put off changing for bed beyond removing your stockings and shoes. Now you’re almost thankful for that decision with how your skin erupts into goosebumps under Soonyoung’s touch.

This time when you reach to remove his shirt, there’s no loud knock to disrupt you. There’s nothing at all to distract you from the beautiful man hovering over you on the bed. It seems ridiculous, now, that you ever thought you could ignore him. Once you get his clothes off, he removes your own, so you’re laying bare on your bed. Everything inside you wants you to cover yourself, unused to anyone taking you in with the attention Soonyoung gives you. But when you go to move your hands to cover yourself, he catches them, places the softest kisses on your knuckles, and lightly puts them over your head. His eyes take your body in like he’s never seen anything better.

“Absolutely beautiful,” he whispers against your skin. “You’re perfect.”

“Look who’s talking,” you manage to reply.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks, pulls away so he can look you in your eyes. “It’s okay if you say no.”

“Little late for that,” you chuckle.

“No, it’s not,” he reiterates.

“I know, Soon,” you say through a smile. “I do want this.”

It’s all the reassurance that he needs when his lips meet yours again, insistent. One of his hands runs down your body and along your thigh before he separates your legs. It makes you shiver in anticipation. Every part of you longs for him. You know he must realize. He runs one of his fingers between your folds and moans into the kiss with how wet you are. How badly you want him. How ready you are for him. After he does this several more times, you pull away.

“Please,” you beg him.

You’re expecting him to tease you or to ask you what it is you’re begging for. Instead, he slides one finger inside you and captures your gasp. The kiss doesn’t last nearly long enough before he’s pulling away again, this time to watch your body react to his finger pumping slowly in and out of you. He’s encouraging your moans, muttering praises into your skin, making you feel like nothing else matters. He slides a second finger into you and your back arches at the feeling. He hooks his middle finger inside you and you know you’re going to be done for entirely too soon.

As his pace quickens, he trails kisses along your neck, your chest, your stomach. You can’t even be self conscious because he doesn’t give you the chance. Just makes you feel better than you’ve ever felt with just his fingers. Your hands tangle in the sheets as you writhe under his attention.

“Soonyoung, please, I’m gonna come,” you whine out. He doesn’t slow, just adds a third finger.

“Then come, baby, I want to watch you come all over my fingers,” he urges.

And that’s, well that’s got you even closer. Never have you had a guy put your own needs above his own like that. He keeps his rhythm steady and it’s all too much, you’re feeling him everywhere and your body is on fire.

“Let go,” he whispers low into your ear.

So you do, you let go and drench his fingers, the release so strong that it takes you a minute to come back down or to realize you feel empty without his fingers. He’s laying on his side next to you and running a hand through your hair to brush it out of your face.

“Oh my god, Soonyoung,” you rasp out.

“Yeah?” he asks and you nod.

He adjusts his position and you feel his hard length against your hip. You reach a hand down to lightly grip his cock. It’s longer than you were expecting but not too thick. Not entirely intimidating to think about inside of you.

“You don’t have to…” he starts.

“I want to,” you disagree.

You run your finger over the head, collecting a little of the precum and then run your hand back down. It’s not enough though, so you push yourself up. He follows you with his eyes and readjusts so he’s leaning back against the headboard. You get between his legs and lick a stripe up the underside of his length, watch as he shudders over the briefest touch. You can tell he’s trying to sit back and enjoy it, but he’s sensitive. He must have enjoyed you coming on his fingers more than you realized.

He lets you tease him, running your tongue along him entirely too slowly, your hand pumping without enough friction. But his desires win out before long.

“I need to be inside of you,” Soonyoung whines. “Please?”

You swallow hard and nod. “Yes, oh my god.”

Before you even realize what’s happening, he gathers you up in his arms and lays you down underneath him. He spreads your leg and kisses all the way up from your thigh to your lips, leaving you desperate for more of him when he pulls away. It’s only so he can line himself up at your entrance, though. He eases into you slow enough that you can adjust to the feel of him. And then he’s rolling his hips into you.

You’re not sure if it’s the build up between the two of you, the realization of your feelings when you met the woman claiming to be his girlfriend, or what, but everything just feels…better. The stretch is that perfect kind of pleasure and the way he rolls his hips into you is just the right pace. He whispers constant reassurances into your skin and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this safe or whole with someone before.

He takes his time with you, doesn’t thrust into you too hard or too fast, just wants to savor the moment. You can’t recall your last relationship taking this much care. It’s overwhelming in the best way, in the way that you don’t want it to end.

“I’m so close,” he hisses out too soon.

“I’m almost there,” you whine out, heading towards your second orgasm of the night.

Soonyoung reaches between you and starts to rub your clit, making you cry out from the sensitivity. In no time, you’re screaming out as you come seconds apart from each other.

“Wow,” Soonyoung says when he’s caught his breath and laying next to you on the bed.

“Yeah,” you agree.

He rolls over onto his side and faces you, looking both incredibly relaxed and impossibly happy. “Are we okay?”

“Oh my god, this is when you ask?” you laugh out.

“Well, I don’t wanna make the wrong assumption!” he defends.

“Yes, we’re good,” you start, “and before you say it, I will talk to you before making assumptions next time.”

“There’s going to be a next time? Do you like me?” Soonyoung asks, all gentle teasing in his voice.

“I am going to kick you out of this room,” you threaten.

You don’t follow through. Not when he wets a towel to come help you clean up or when he offers to get you clothes to wear to bed. Not when he fills up a glass with water for you to drink so you’re not dehydrated. Not when he offers to leave so that people don’t get the wrong idea. Not when you’re pulling him into a kiss and back into bed. Not when you’re talking until you fall asleep tangled up in each other.

The next couple days pass in kind of a blur with traveling and getting settled into the next tour stop. Needless to say, you don’t reach out to your boss about ending your trip early. You do have a conversation with Soonyoung, though, about how it is almost your last stop. He gets it, but he’s not ready to think about it, instead wrapping himself around you and pressing kisses to any part of your body that he can reach. He’s incredibly distracting and you find you don’t really mind. You also don’t mind if he lets his bandmates think there’s something going on with you. None of them seem surprised, which makes you wonder what he said before he won you over.

After the next show, he doesn’t even pretend to go to the afterparty before coming to see you. He departs from his band and the hangers-on at the entrance to the hotel and comes straight to your room. Just as the two of you planned. And not that you’re expecting anything, but you’re waiting in your nightgown just in case, unable to stop thinking about Soonyoung moaning over being interrupted the first time.

“Hey…wow,” Soonyoung says when you open the door and he takes you in.

“You were whining about being interrupted the first time,” you offer with a shrug.

“I was not whining,” he protests, but kisses you anyway when he steps inside.

“You were and it was cute,” you disagree. Calling Soonyoung cute is a mistake, you realize that the second you see his face.

“You think I’m cute,” he preens.

“I take it back,” you say immediately.

“Nope,” he says and pulls you into him. “Can’t take it back.”

He kisses you hard and deep before you can continue the argument. Not that you’re complaining about it. He moves backwards to sit down on the bed and pulls you onto his lap. Same position, different bed. You’ll still take it.

“Soon, can I ask you something?” you ask.

“Anything,” he offers.

“Tonight, can you…don’t be gentle with me,” you manage.

“You didn’t like that?” Of course that’s his first worry.

“No, no, it was amazing, completely perfect,” you assure him and he relaxes beneath you. “It’s just…I want…”

“Something else,” he finishes.

You nod and look down, absently playing with the hem of his shirt. “I just, I feel safe with you and I want to try things.”

Soonyoung lifts your chin with a finger so you can see how much care there is behind his eyes. He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth and then to your lips.

“I won’t be so gentle with you, then,” he agrees. “But you have to tell me if it’s too much okay?”

“Okay,” you agree.

And he’s not gentle. He takes his time building up to it, kissing you hard and pulling your lip between his teeth. Pulling off your clothes so you’re naked on his lap. Leaving marks where nobody else will see them. Grinding against your core even though he’s still dressed. Pulling endless moans out of you. Until he flips you onto your bag and pushes your legs open. He’s got his fingers inside you again and it’s nothing like the first time. Nothing like the gentle rhythm. He’s scissoring his fingers and pumping them quickly. He’s using this thumb to rub your clit. The stream of words coming out of your mouth is incomprehensible and you’re sure the people in the rooms on either side can hear you. You’re equally sure you don’t care.

It feels like record time when he’s coaxing your first orgasm out of you. Your whole body is sensitive and the waves continue to ripple through you. It doesn’t even feel like you’ve recovered from the first orgasm when you feel Soonyoung’s tongue run between your folds. He’s spreading your lips with his fingers and lapping into you.

“Soonyoung, fuck, oh my god,” you scream out.

He pops his head up from between your legs just long enough for a single question. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, fuck, please don’t,” you whine out and he’s between your legs again.

You can’t even see straight but you’re sure that the sight of this man between your legs, tongue working you like he’s starving, is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. His thumb rubs over your clit again and you arch into him. You move your hand into his hair to anchor him or yourself, you’re not sure. You’re oversensitive and overstimulated, but it’s the best kind of mix of pain and pleasure. There are tears forming in the corners of your eyes and you urge him on, beg him to keep going.

The second orgasm rips through you even harder than the first and you’re screaming out your praise for him as he guides you through it. Once you come down, you feel him come up next to you and roll towards him. His lips are on yours in the next second and you can taste yourself on his tongue. You think you could kiss him for hours without getting bored or wanting to stop. Yet he pulls away from you entirely too soon.

There’s confusion on your face as he gets out of the bed (and maybe a little bit of embarrassment that you’ve come twice and he’s still dressed). His eyes are on you as he strips himself out of his clothing before leaning over the bed. If you’re waiting for another kiss, you’re left waiting. He grabs behind your legs and pulls you to the edge. His eyes are full of fire, yet still checking to see if you’re okay. You ease any worries with a quick nod of your head. With that he pulls you up against him and kisses you quickly.

You’re so dazed that you don’t even realize he’s changing your position until you’re leaning over the edge of the bed with your ass in the air. He uses his foot to spread your legs apart so that he can line himself up. Even though you want to watch him, he presses between your shoulder blades so you’re leaning forward as much as possible. And maybe he’s got a point because the feeling of him pressing into you is so much better when you’re not watching him do it.

This time, he doesn’t wait for you to adjust to him, just immediately snaps his hips into you, burying his cock fully inside on the first thrust. Even though he’s being rougher, his praise is still constant. Still talking you through every moment. When he lifts one of your legs up so your knee is on the edge of the bed, you think you see stars at the new position. He’s hitting you so deep and filling you so completely that you’re not sure how you ever survived without him. Dramatic, you chastise yourself, but you’re a little beyond sex stupid right now.

His fingers dig into your hips where he holds you in place, keeping up the pace that has your eyes watering yet again. You’re so sensitive and you’re sure you’re not going to come again. Until you feel the orgasm building and the pressure in your tummy. Until his own words become unintelligible, just a string of curses and praise. Until you hear yourself tell him that you’re gonna come again and feel his own release just after yours.

Your legs feel like jelly as he guides you back into the bed and disappears for a towel. You can hear the water running just before he reappears to clean you up. It’s such a stark contrast from minutes earlier when he’s gentle with you again. It’s way too early to feel anything for him, you remind yourself again, but you also can’t pretend not to feel anything.

Once he cleans himself up, he gets into the bed and tucks the two of you under the covers without bothering to get dressed. His arms circle you and you feel safe, like this. Wanted and special and right. The kiss he presses to your forehead almost makes you sigh.

“How are you?” he asks softly into your hair.

“Amazing? Perfect? I don’t even know,” you answer.

“But you’re okay,” he presses.

“No, I’m a lot better than okay,” you assure him. He must see your smile.

“Me too,” he agrees.

You’re not sure what happens next or how you’re going to be able to make this work. Or if it’s even going to work. You’re not sure any of that matters because you have this night and you have Soonyoung, at least for now. Nothing else matters.

thank you for reading, i hope you liked it 💕

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