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auteurdelabre · 5 days

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

rating: 18+

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

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

HERE IS PART ONE OF THIS CHAPTER.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You have five minutes."

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

"Are you baking?"

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

"I'd love one."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your father?"

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

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

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

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

"Hurt. She misses you."

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

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

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

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

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

"I’m so sorry."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

“I can’t accept it.”

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

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

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

“And cinnamon bread?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck is going on here?”

"How did-"

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

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

"Honey-"

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

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

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

"Go wait in the kitchen, please."

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

"Baby?" Your mom ventures gently.

"He calls everyone that," you lie.

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

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

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

"How did you know about the ankles?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t know how to answer that.

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

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

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

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

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

“Were you mean to Dieter?”

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

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

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

“Uh, is it okay if I come in?”

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

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

“My baby having a baby,” she murmurs.

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

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

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

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

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

“Mom-“

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

You both break into easy grins.

“Yes ma’am.”

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

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

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

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

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

“More than okay.”

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

“Then I’m okay with it,” you murmur.

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

Your mother glances over at Dieter before stepping towards him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're Chilean right?"

"Part, yeah."

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

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

“So do I get a tour?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you miss them?”

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

“Did you pay off my Mom’s mortgage?”

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

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

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

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

“Correct.”

“Your mother was right, you are stubborn.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mia,” you remind him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But your mom notices. She notices it all.

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

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

"I know. I just wanted to help."

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

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

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

“Dieter?”

“Yeah?”

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

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

"Take me to bed, Dieter."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you really mean that?"

"Every word."

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

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

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

"What about her?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Really?"

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

"She sounds amazing."

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

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

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

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

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

"Sounds like a great dad."

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

Dieter almost falls off his floaty in shock.

"No shit. Really?"

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

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

"Definitely."

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

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

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

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

"Are you?"

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

"So you might not go back?"

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

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

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

You're not sure about going back to school.

There's hope.

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

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

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

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

"Please make me come… Daddy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like maybe you tie me up sometime?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But mostly, he wants you to want him.

"You said you got into RADA right?"

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

"Do you still have your audition tape?"

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

"Really? Can we watch it?"

"Knock yourself out."

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

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

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

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

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

"Your voice is so different."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You sound surprised."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sure."

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

"That was a terrible idea."

"I agree."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Should we watch the rest?"

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

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

Twelve minutes later the movie is shut off indefinitely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?!"

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

"You fit right in here."

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

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

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

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

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

You don't know why but you feel defensive.

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

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

"What are you getting at?"

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

"I know."

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

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

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

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

"Taco Bell."

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

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

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

"Huh?"

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

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

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

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

You don't care.

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

"The drive thru is open."

"It's late."

"But I need it," you whine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You want cheesy potatoes too?"

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

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

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

“Swim time?”

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you fucking insane?"

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

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

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

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

"Look at her," Dieter groans into your ear. "Look at that sexy thing in the mirror."

"Dieter-"

"Keep looking," he urges you, hand gently forcing your face in the direction of the mirror before his hands slide up your bikini top over your breasts, pebbling the nipples. You swallow at the sensation, not even protesting when he unties it at the back, letting the colorful fabric drop to the ground.

You stand there in nothing but your bikini bottoms, cheeks flushed as Dieter groans deliciously behind you. His hands come to cup your tits, thumbs grazing the protruding nipples.

“See her gorgeous fucking tits?”

You cringe away from the mirror, hating how you look. But if Dieter is lying about how turned on he is, he’s a better actor than you ever gave him credit for because his cock is swelling against your lower back, stiff and pulsing.

You let him untie your bikini bottoms, finding yourself already slick between your legs when they drop to the ground along with everything else. You watch in the mirror as Dieter sheds his swim shorts before gently urging you to place your forearms on the dresser.

You can only watch his face as he notches his cock at the entrance to your pussy, rubbing the head there and gathering the copious amounts of slick. His eyes flick from your face to your cunt as if he can’t decide which he needs to see more.

“Keep watching yourself, beautiful,” He rasps as he sinks into you, cock thick and full as you gasp. You’ll never tire of that sensation, the first thrust of his cock inside you. Your head falls forward but Dieter’s hand is there, gently making a fist in your hair and urging your face to the mirror.

"See how beautiful she looks when she's taking my cock?"

You can't see shit. Your belly is ballooned so far out you can barely handle it. But you look at your face and you see the heavy eyes and parted lips. You see the way you arch into Dieter’s body and how he towers over you and yeah... It's hot.

"Cock drunk," Dieter tells you with a swell of pride. "All sexy and sleepy looking."

His hands come to brace yours on the dresser, his dark eyes fixed on yours in the mirror.

"You see her?" Dieter pants, teeth gritting. "You see her tits bouncing? Feel her sweet pussy taking my cock? She's fucking magnificent. How can you say she’s not the sexiest thing alive?"

The way he talks about your reflection makes you almost jealous until you remember that it's you he's talking about.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," Dieter babbles as he nears his orgasm. “Never been more turned on in my fucking life.”

And he means it. He means every fucking word. He can’t stop touching you, kissing your shoulder, your cheek, your mouth when you tilt back to face him. You whimper his name when he starts to fuck into you harder and harder.

“Come deep, Dieter,” you grunt. “Fuck me full.”

He does with one final thrust, painting your insides as he cries out your name.

Despite this interlude you still suffer with crisis of confidence at times in the coming weeks. Your back is in constant pain. You waddle when you walk. You've never felt less attractive.

Dieter is obsessed. He can't stop finding reasons to touch you, brushing your lower back when he passes you in the hall.

All pretenses of employer and employee are gone. You’re basically in his bed every night, fucking him whenever you get the chance. Neither of you observe it outright, but it’s there lingering under the surface every time he asks if you’re ready to go to bed. It’s there when you shower together, washing each other’s hair. It’s there when you both murmur good morning and let him kiss you languidly over coffee.

When he catches you napping in the sunshine on his couch he's so taken with you that you wake up to find his curly head between your legs and his mouth bringing you to a gentle orgasm. You keen against his lips, hands going to card through his hair as you come.

You know why he's like this. It's because things are coming rapidly to an end. Once the baby is here this all ends. This ready access to sex, you lounging around his house. He'll have a newborn and you'll have a new life. You won't see him. You'll have your money, you'll be going back to school, and your mom's mortgage is paid off.

Dieter knows how you feel about snuggling and he goes to pull away.

"Don't," you say, arms outstretched, mouth twisted into a pout. Dieter stares at you in surprise, big puppy dog eyes wide. It makes you melt. He wraps himself around you, face nuzzling into your neck. The two of you snuggle there as you flick on the television to a Christmas special.

Just when you think Dieter is becoming a mature and sensible adult you feel him sigh heavily behind you.

“I'm not watching that depressing Christmas movie!" Dieter insists when It’s a Wonderful Life starts up. "I wanna watch the Muppet Christmas Carol!"

He can’t understand why you can’t stop laughing.

One quiet morning with Dieter filming audio reshoots for the Rogue Duchess you sit at the kitchen table, pensive. You stare at the pro and con list you've made sitting in front of you.

Ever since the conversation with your mother you've been second guessing your next steps post birth. Are you just doing it because you think you should be? Are you doing it because that's what you were doing when your dad died? Are you doing it because of misplaced guilt?

Your dad had been so proud of you, telling everyone about your Masters problem and how you were well on your way to a PhD like him.

He talked fondly about having two doctors and a nurse in the house, joking that your home would become like Grey's Anatomy.

Even then you'd felt a bit of the pressure to perform. To pursue a PhD to make him proud. In all your focus and pursuit you'd never really stopped to ask yourself... Is this what you want?

Pros - honor dad - get to be called doctor at the end Cons - no social life - have to move to Sacramento for several years - not guaranteed a job I like when I graduate - away from mom - STRESS - possible burnout - job market is competitive - won't necessarily make me happy

You need to add something else. Something that's been in the back of your head screaming for your attention. You raise your pen to the paper, adding your final item to the con list.

- Too far away from Dieter and Bubble.

And then a sentence you write and then immediately erase before crumpling the entire paper up in a ball.

- I'm in love with Dieter.

[8:43am] D: It hasn't even started and I'm bored out of my fucking mind

[8:44am]: Dieter it'll be fun.

[8:44am] D: no it won't. I HATE these fucking marathon interview days

Hours and hours of sitting with Mia and the rest of the crew talking about the upcoming film being released in a few months. He's covered in concealer and powder, his stylist has him in some absurdly patterned shirt that itches and he desperately needs a cigarette.

[8:45am] D: I wanna be at home with you---

He hesitates before deleting that last message. He can't send you messages like that. You're not dating, no matter how much it feels like you are. He feels twitchy now, all out of sorts as he thinks about you home and waiting for him.

He sneaks off to the corner of the hotel, hoping he can get off a few puffs before Diane wrangles him back inside.

He lights his cigarette, puffing away. He scans the space to make sure it's just hotel employees before he brings out his phone, going through his photos. He lands on the one from the other night, you mid laugh as the Jenga tower falls. You look so happy, so at ease.

He’s so ridiculously in love with you.

How can he let you go? How can he go from seeing you every day to you becoming a stranger? You've got one foot out the door at all times and he doesn’t want to hold you back from your dreams.

It was so easy to play house these past few months. To pretend like you were his. He was such a fool.

"Spare one?"

Dieter fumbles the phone, shoving it a hastily back into his jacket pocket. Its Mia dressed in a sleek black number, her makeup and hair perfect. She motions to the cigarette between his long fingers.

"My last one," he says ruefully.

Mia holds out her manicured fingers in his direction. "A quick puff then."

Dieter relents, handing it off to her. She takes a long drag, enjoying the curl of the smoke as the two of them stand shoulder to shoulder in silence. It feels awkward being together alone, the two of them haven't spoken since Prague. Dieter feels the need to fill the silence.

"How's Sam?"

"He's good," Mia nods. "He's not secretly in love with his assistant so it's already much better than my last relationship."

Dieter can't help but let out a small chuckle at that. Mia has been seen all over the tabloids in recent weeks with her hunky new Scottish co-star. Mia looks at Dieter with a small tilt of her head, squinting up at him.

"You tell her yet?"

"Tell who what?"

Mia takes another drag off the cigarette, giving him a leveling look. "You know who and you know what."

Dieter says nothing, watching as Mia holds the cigarette aloft. She gives a dramatic sign when she sees. He's going to make her have to say it.

"Have you told your PA that you're fucking crazy about her," Mia says flatly. "That you want to marry her and have tons of little Bravo's running around."

"I do not."

"Maybe just the one little Bravo then," Mia smiles, handing him his cigarette. He feels her heavy gaze on him and he knows that she deserves answers. He put her through a lot and she has been gracious as hell about it.

He sighs heavily before twisting to face her head-on. "No, I haven't."

"Why not?"

"It’s…complicated."

"What's complicated about love?"

"She told me she doesn't want to be a part of the baby's life."

"Back when she thought you only wanted to be together because you got her pregnant."

"She doesn't want me."

"Dieter I see how she looks at you. The girl is utterly besotted."

"Might want to tell her that," Dieter huffs in forced amusement.

Despite all the time you’ve spent together, you’ve really never made it clear how you feel about Dieter. Yes, you like the sex and you laugh with him. But you’ve never actually made overtures, talked about the future. You think of a future that doesn’t include him or your son.

Mia pauses for a moment, thinking about something. Her eyes scan the vicinity and before Dieter can do anything Mia grips him by the collar and plants a chaste kiss to his lips. Dieter pulls back immediately, his face cloudy.

"What the fuck-"

"You'll thank me," Mia promises.

He goes to say something to her about how uncool that was but a text from you sails in, almost as if fate is giving him the prompt he needs.

[8:58am]: If I wanted to postpone school for a little bit, do you think I could still stay with you? I could pay rent and everything. I think I just want to reconsider some things. Dunno if school is where I want to be right now.

“Fuck yes,” Dieter breathes, re-reading the message several times to make sure he’s not reading it wrong. You want to stay. You want to stay longer with him. He's still staring at your text with a goofy smile on his face when Mia’s voice sounds out beside him.

“Dieter, c'mon! Interviews are starting.”

He shoves his phone into his pocket, his grin bright as he follows Mia back inside the hotel for the marathon of interviews.

You want to stay.

The alert comes through on your phone, the setting still stuck on sending you Dieter Bravo related news items.

You're relaxing on one of the chairs in the backyard, one hand gently rubbing your belly, the other holding your latest crime thriller novel.

When the alert goes off its instinct to shut the book and retrieve the phone from the table beside you. Normal to scan the links that show up.

BRAV-ROWE ROMANCE BACK ON?

You sit up slowly, holding your expansive belly and grunting angrily. You continue reading as you walk inside, pacing around the kitchen.

Bravo, 40, and Rowe, 25, were spotted earlier today stealing kisses between interviews for their upcoming release The Rogue Heiress. What’s setting tongues wagging is that Rowe has also been recently seen getting cozy with Sam Heughen, 43, back in her native England only last week. Was Sam just a distraction from her real feelings for Bravo? Or is this just a cleverly executed publicity stunt for their upcoming film?

You slam your phone down onto the counter, irritation flooding you all over.

What the fuck?

Here you are pining over this guy and he's off kissing his ex?

Even their couple name is adorable. It fits. Your cheeks are flaming red at the realization that you fell for it. You fell for his lines, for his sweet eyes and sweeter mouth. You let yourself get swept up in a romance that isn't even real.

Dieter is an actor. He knows how to fake anything.

"I'm so fucking stupid," you say shaking your head. Bubble gives a gentle kick, drawing your attention back to the present.

“Sorry honey. Mom’s not stupid. Just fucking naive.”

It's dark when Dieter finally makes it home, shrugging of his jacket and toeing off his shoes. He wants to go to bed, to hold you after this long and boring day.

But you're not in bed. You're seated on the couch with the TV off. Your crossword book is beside you but you don't look like you've been working on it. Dieter feels a smile break out over his features at the sight of you in his home.

"Hi baby," he murmurs as he approaches, confused when you slowly turn to face him with a furious look on your face. "What’s wrong?"

“Have anything to tell me?”

“Uh…no?”

He watches you throw your head back and give an obviously false laugh. “No?”

“No.”

“Kiss any old girlfriends lately, Dieter?”

Dieter is stunned. How the hell did you find out about that? "How-"

"It's all over TMZ and now all the other news outlets," you say, teeth clenching. Dieter thinks about the way Mia checked around them before kissing him. You take a seat on the couch, arms crossed over your chest.

"I didn't just go kiss her," Dieter defends, coming to sit next to you. "She kissed me."

"Didn't really seem like you were fighting her on it."

You hold up your phone where the picture of Mia kissing Dieter is blown up. It's clear you've been studying the picture. Mia’s hand is on his collar, Dieter’s hand is on hers, but only so that he could pull it off. But to the outside viewer this looks very intimate.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“No? Because what it looks like is you kissing your ex girlfriend.”

Dieter takes in the red of your cheeks and the way you’re clenching your jaw and despite everything a little thrill goes through him.

"Why are you so upset?" Dieter purrs.

"I'm not," you insist.

You feel furious and out of sorts and you can't tell him why because you'll sound like a jealous girlfriend which you absolutely aren't.

"You sound upset."

"Well I'm not." You chew at your bottom lip angrily. "It's just rude you know? Sleeping with me and seeing Mia. Does she-"

"I'm not seeing Mia," Dieter interjects.

"I have eyes Dieter," you scoff.

"She gave me a quick peck after we talked about Sam Heughan, her boyfriend, who she is in a committed relationship with."

"Yeah right."

Dieter stops a moment to take in your flushed cheeks, bright eyes and the arms that cross in front of you. You don’t want him to be seeing Mia and that can only mean one thing and that makes Dieter feel warm all over. His arm is on the back of the couch, almost behind your shoulders.

"You're jealous."

"I'm not," you insist, face heating.

"Then why are you acting like this?" He probes, shifting closer to you on the couch. "Tell me the truth."

He’s so close and he smells so good and you just fucking… you just…

"Because you're mine."

It comes spilling out of you like a dam, a rush, a torrent of words that once said cannot be taken back. But for once you don’t want them taken back. You want him to know exactly what you mean, especially as you launch yourself towards him, your arms going around his neck, your stomach plump between the two of you. Dieter is grinning so widely his face might crack as he gazes at you on his lap.

"I'm yours?"

"Yes," you all but growl, pushing him backwards until his broad shoulders hit the seat cushions of the couch and you begin straddling his prone body. His cock is rock hard through his pants, pressing into your core through your panties.

You tug them to the side, not even bothering to take them off. Dieter is already sliding off his pants and boxers, smiling up at you eagerly. He's pulsing between your thighs, hissing with pleasure as you notch him at your soaked entrance.

"Not hers," you grunt, sliding down his length with an aching groan escaping both of you. "No one else's. Just mine. You understand me, Bravo?"

You're staking your claim and Dieter is turned on out of his mind. You've never been possessive over him before, never been so commanding. Never been so clear in your desire for him.

"Yes!"

He wishes he could hold you in his arms, but being laid out flat on his couch while you ride him isn't exactly torture. Your pussy milks his cock, a vice -like grip around his thick length.

"I'm yours," Dieter repeats, thrusting up into your wet heat. "Just yours, baby."

"You only fuck me," you command, starting to bounce up and down in his lap the best you can with your swollen belly. His expression is pure delight, his wide palm on your hips.

"Yes."

"Only I make you c-come," you try to sound authoritative but your hips are rolling over his and he feels so good. You're barrelling towards an orgasm with every husky assurance from him.

"Only you," Dieter assures you, hands tightening around your gyrating hips. "And I only wanna make you come, baby. Only want you in my bed. Only you."

He's rambling and your eyes are cheating to the back of your head. You crest so fast, hands flying to the back of the couch so you can steady yourself. His hands slide up under your shirt and go to your breasts, pinching your pebbled nipples as you keen.

"C'mon baby," Dieter encourages as he watches your head tilt back. "Take what's yours."

"Mine," you pant as you start to come, head lolling forward. Your body starts to give small little twitches as you groan. "Mine, mine, mine."

"Yours," Dieter breathes, gazing up at you. "Only yours."

He feels you come, soaking his cock with your release. He groans at the sight of your fucked out expression, your hips still undulating.

"Now you," you command in a soft mewl. "Come for me, Dieter. Give my what's mine."

Your hands go to brace yourself on his chest, your hips lifting only to slide harshly back down, taking him as deep as possible. He feels a pleasurable stripe go up his spine.

"It's all yours," he offers before his own pleasure overtakes him at the sight of your heavy-lidded expression. He comes deep, deeper than he ever has and he does so whimpering your name.

You're both panting and you groan slightly as you pull yourself off of him, sitting back against the couch. Dieter rests there a few moments, his softened cock resting against his belly. He's smiling up at the ceiling like a madman.

Then he's stripping off all his clothes and standing before urging you to do the same.

"I'm fucking you in the shower," Dieter tells you as he pulls your t-shirt up over your head. "I want you to give me another one."

But you don't just give just him another one because it doesn't end in the shower. Or on the kitchen counter after a midnight snack. But in his bed where he urges you to the end of the bed and fucks you slowly standing next to the mattress, your thighs spread beautifully for him as his cock lazily saws in and out of you.

His hands grip your thighs tightly, urging you to bounce against his hips. Your bodies move together, the pleasure increasing.

“So good,” you croon, your forehead dotted with sweat. “You feel so perfect, Dieter.”

You’re babbling, high on the pleasure of his cock and his nearness. Dieter revels in it, the way you’re unabashedly giving him praise, the way you don’t stop him or shy away from him whispering sweet nothings into your neck.

“And I’m all yours,” he promises. You almost think you can read love in his eyes as they gaze down at you.

“I’m all yours,” you tell him back without thought.

His thrusts increase, his hands holding you tightly, fingers splayed over your clit. He teases and rubs until you’re on the brink of another orgasm and you finally come in tandem, both of you trembling.

“That’s my girl,” he groans, kissing behind your ear as you shiver.

You don’t tell him you’re not his girl because right now you feel like you could be.

You wake up the next morning in Dieter’s bed with one of his legs wedged in between yours, his arm draped over your middle and his forehead against your neck. It feels right and it feels perfect and as your sleep clears…A mixture of shame and disbelief overtakes your body.

What the fuck was that last night?

You'd been almost mad with rage at the sight of that TMZ pic. And when he'd come onto the couch you'd just felt this strange possessiveness overtake you.

Just want you in my bed. Only you.

Those words were so nice to hear. So gratifying. And you believed him about Mia and the photo. It had been all too easy to move past it, to allow him to lick into your mouth as he fucked you. You glance over your shoulder to see him sleeping, his hair falling into his closed eyes.

Mine.

No. Not mine.

He's not yours. He can't be.

He's Dieter Bravo and you're you. Thinking that somehow you could be together is a delusion. Dieter just hates being alone. And he knows that being a father is a huge deal. He knows that it's all going to rest on his shoulders and he's looking for a lifeline as your due date grows rapidly closer.

He doesn't actually have feelings for you.

It's just that Mia might be out of the picture and he's clinging to whatever is in the vicinity - today it happens to be you. Tomorrow it'll be whatever model he's paired with at the next photo shoot.

You've known him long enough to know his moods and his ever changing interests. In a couple of months when the baby is here and you're in Sacramento he'll probably have forgotten your name.

The thought hurts if you linger on it. He's just clinging to a lifeline and you can't be around when he does inevitably move onto the next woman because it'll break your heart.

You need to get the apartment now. You need to find out where you're going to be staying next semester. You need to be planning your life post birth.

He didn’t even write back to your text yesterday even though it said he’d read it. The one asking if you could stay longer, that you were considering postponing school. And you know why – because this wasn’t the plan. Because Dieter’s interest is waning and you know it.

You pull yourself from the bed, out of Dieter’s warm arms and you try your best not to look back at his still sleeping form as you tiptoe out of the room.

You return sometime in the afternoon to Dieter storming around the kitchen, looking frantic. He barrels towards you, tugging your hands that you quickly slide out of his grip.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?"

“I had it on silent.”

"Where were you?"

"I was at the library," you say as if it were the most obvious answer. Dieter looks like he’s been fisting his hands through his hair all day.

"You're not supposed-"

"I know I’m not supposed to leave, but I wore sunglasses and no one recognized me." You put your purse down on the ground. "I just needed somewhere quiet to organize my thoughts. I needed to research apartments without distractions."

"Apartments," Dieter repeats slowly.

"Yeah, for next semester," You say breezily as you push past him and make your way into the kitchen. He follows hot on your heels like a desperate puppy all big eyes and furrowed brows.

"Next semester? I thought you were thinking of postponing?"

He watches you glance around in the fridge before pulling out a bowl of blueberries that Petra has left for you.

"No point," you say, popping one in your mouth. "I decided I need to get focused and start as soon as possible. That reminds me though; I don't think I can really stay long after the baby is born. I'll want to get to Sacramento as soon as possible."

Dieter looks as if you've punched him. He's gone pale, his large eyes luminous. He's sagging against the counter as if his own body can't support him anymore.

"What? Why?"

"I told you, I need to focus," you tell him, popping the blueberries back into the fridge. "And I know that I don't get paid until the Bubble is born but I'm wondering if I can get half now? I need to put a down payment on an apartment out there."

"You're buying an apartment in Sacramento?"

"Of course," you say, taking a deep breath. "I'll be in school for a few years; the rest of my Masters then the PhD, then my residency out there. Makes sense."

"But ... You weren’t even sure about it," Dieter says weakly.

"That was before I really thought about it," You say, shrugging. "I can't sit around my boss's house all day organizing his next manicure and making sure his latest fuck buddies sign NDA's."

Dieter straightens immediately, his jaw clenching.

Too far.

As soon as you say it you wish you could take it back. It's an ugly, unfair thing to say and you both know it. But you feel exposed, like a raw nerve.

Dieter feels everything inside him twisting hideously. He was so fucking deluded to think you'd stay, to think you'd fallen for him the same way he has for you. He wants to scream at his idiocy.

How are you just so okay with this? How can you walk away like the last several months have meant nothing?

Dieter can only stare at you, his eyes going from wide to narrowed. His hand curls into a loose fist at his side, the other still braced on the counter.

“There's a contract," Dieter all but growls. "You get your money once the baby is born."

"I know,” you say quickly. “It's just that the tuition is due this month to hold my spot for next semester."

"That's not my problem."

You take a step back, brows knitted. You weren’t expecting that.

“But-“

"You signed a contract stipulating that you wouldn't get the money until the baby is born," Dieter croaks. "So there's your answer."

He turns from you, heading down the hallway to his art studio. You follow close behind, waddling quickly to keep up.

"Dieter I can't afford the place without that money."

"Read the contract," he snaps. "You signed it."

He quickly moves into the studio, slamming the door behind him.

He hears you on the other side of the door, breathing heavily. He’s worried you’re crying.

Finally he hears you shuffle away and he moves to the window, sitting in the chair he reserved for you when you return home with your son. He imagined painting both of you, the light bathing you both in a dreamy glow.

Dieter is devastated, his head resting heavily in his hands as he fights back the urge to sob.

What the fuck happened? One minute you were insisting he was yours, your bodies working together beautifully. The next second you're telling him you're halfway out the door.

You don’t want to be a mother. You never did. You always made that perfectly clear. He was just too besotted to understand. He looks around his art room, feeling a fury building within him. What the fuck has this all been for? Why the fuck is he so fucking stupid? Why did he have to go and fall in love with you?

He needs drugs. He needs alcohol. He needs something to take this stabbing pain away. And just as his trembling hand goes to his phone to call up Corey Brigham he glances up at the painting he's been currently working on.

It's an oil painting image from a dream he had recently. One where he stands in the ocean up to his knees, the wind gentle and the day mild. Dieter is holding you back against him, his head over your shoulder, both of you gazing down at the tiny infant in your arms.

And there's his son, eyes closed, a soft smile on his face. The image of what Dieter things he’ll look like.

My son.

The cell phone is pushed back into his pocket. He's not living just for himself anymore. He's got a son he will put before himself in all ways. His son will not grow up with an absent father like Dieter did.

All of a sudden his studio door bursts open. You look harried as you stride in, fixing him with a glare. He knows you want to tell him off and he wishes you didn't look so beautiful when you’re angry.

"You're not supposed to be in here," Dieter insists, feeling a stab of anxiety go through him as you walk towards him. He leaps up from the chair, almost tripping over himself in his desire to usher you out of the room.

“We were in the middle of a conversation,” you snap. “You can’t just-“

Your cutting remarks die before they can be completely formed because as you glance around the room your eyes widen in shock.

Dieter’s art room has always been a mix of canvas, paint spills, old coffee cups and grotesque sculptures. But right now all of the painted canvases are positioned around the room, sketches lining the drafting table under the window.

And they are all of you.

Ones of you with your belly swollen, sleeping on the couch. Others of you cross legged at the table hunched over your laptop. There's one of you with your face serene as you lay the bathtub, that night Dieter and you talked for hours. Snapshots of time, your belly at different stages.

"Are these..." You go over to a stack of sketches. “Are these all me?”

Dieter is silent, his eyes drifting to your face when you take in the portrait he did of the three of you. Your hand goes to your belly instinctively as you take in the image.

“I always imagined he’d look like that,” you say with a soft little huff.

Your eyes go to the drafting table, sketches in charcoal sticking out to you. Some are dated as far back as Ireland, some even before that. Your fingers linger on one in particular of you chewing your bottom lip in thought, a pencil raised between your fingers. You glance at the date.

“This was before I was pregnant.” You trail off, gaze moving back to his face. "How long have you been sketching me?"

Dieter shrugs and for the first time since you've known him he looks truly embarrassed.

"A while."

You move slowly towards him. "Why?"

He sighs, only steps away from you now.

"Isn't it obvious?"

You swallow, feeling your heart pound a devastating rhythm. No, this can’t be real. He can’t be suggesting what you think he is. And yet as he stands there, dark eyes wet you can’t help but wish for it to be real.

“I'm crazy about you,” Dieter confesses.

No, not confesses. That would suggest he wanted to keep it hidden, when it’s anything but.

“I just want to be with you all the time. I want to share everything with you. My life, my home, my everything. I want you here in this house with our son. I want to support you going back to school. I want to make you happy in any way I can but I want you to do it as mine.”

You want to say something, to say anything to this grand romantic speech, but your throat has tightened and your mouth gone dry. All you can do is stand there, staring at him like a pregnant idiot.

“And I know that’s selfish to say and I know it’s useless because you don’t love me back but I-I just needed you to know before you left,” Dieter continues, tears wetting the side of his cheek.

“You don’t need to love me back. Our son is a piece of you and if that’s all I can have of your love, that’s enough for me. He’s more than enough. I just. . . I needed you to know the truth, all of it. I fell for you way before you got pregnant, but after this time together I just, I’m...I love you.”

And now his tears are brushed away by the back of his hand and he looks as if he’s going to turn away from you, overcome with everything that he’s just admitted.

You can barely see through the tears in your eyes. All the feelings that have been swirling within you compel you to pitch forward, your hands outstretched, his name on your lips.

You’re about to cross the room, desperate for his touch when a stab of pain goes through you sharply, causing you to almost come to your knees. You begin doubling over with a cry as Dieter runs to close the distance between you, his hand immediately on your back.

“What is it, baby?”

Dieter is confused when he sees an overwhelming amount of clear liquid running down your legs. Your eyes are round, wide and terrified when you look up to him.

"Dieter, I think I'm going into labor."

taglist: @caramilena @lovely-vamp-princess @annieispunk @lu62 @getitoutofmymindwrites @noisynightmarepoetry @lizzie-cakes @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @missladym1981 @tammythr @swankyorange @jupiter-soups @dontknow446 @fluffygoffpanda @doblasftcisco @sunnysinbar @dinomecanico @eff4freddie @fancypants1215 @moel-jiller @picketniffler @khxna @spookyxsam @fancypants1215

@getitoutofmymindwrites @manuymesut @whirlwindrider29 @mostardentlypascal @lu62 @missladym1981 @heareball @sptbear @drewharrisonwriter @lizzie-cakes @daddy-dins-girl @moel-jiller @tammythr @guelyury @lilyevanstan1325 @lu62 @staywildflowahchild @whirlwindrider29 @pedropascalsbbg @cherrycosmos392

#dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #dieter x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fanfic #pedro pascal characters

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strniohoeee · 4 months

Note

oooo okay what i'm boutta request may sound crazy but

could you do a fluffy fic where it's all in matt's pov and he has a huge crush on the reader and he's so anxious around her and nick puts it together that matt is in love with the reader and one day they're hanging and matt's nervous around the reader and the reader is worried and asks matt what wrong and like after being so scared and shy matt blurts out he's in love with the reader and has been for a while and it turns out reader is in love with matt too and boom they kiss and become boyfriend and girlfriend

Dreaming

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Plagued by the constant nervousness Y/N makes Matt feel he takes to his journal. Afraid that his feelings are one sided he keeps it quiet until Y/N confronts him 📝

Warnings⚠️: None, kinda short??? I hope you enjoy tho🤞🏽

Song for the imagine: Ivy- Frank Ocean

I thought that I was dreaming

When you said you loved me

The start of nothin

I had no chance to prepare

Matt’s POV

Entry #14

Writing this down seems embarrassing because this isn’t something I do, but I have no one to talk to. I think that I’m falling in love? No! I know I’m in love, but does she love me back is the million dollar question.

I don’t crush on girls often, but when a girl is as gorgeous as Y/N how can I not? Everything about her draws me to her….like a moth to a flame. An ache comes to my heart everytime I see her because she’s so close yet so far away.

I was never shy around a girl I liked, but there’s something about her….I can’t explain it. Her dark intense eyes, her soft face, her gorgeous smile, her nails always perfectly shaped. Long but not too long just enough to capture someone’s gaze. The way she’d blink faster and bite her pointer finger nail when she was thinking hard about something.

Her ring clattered fingers, like ice to my skin when she’d grab my arm to tell me something. I mean her laugh…..always covering her mouth because she hated the face she’d make as she let laughter erupt from her chest.

She was always laughing too and it made me smile just to hear the joy come out of her. I’m not really sure when I started to like her, but it just happened. One day her looks and her touches made me nervous. It was a gradual liking that suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks.

She’s also our best friend, so admitting my feelings to her seems a bit dicey. I was never given any notion that she liked me more than a friend, unless she’s good at hiding it. I can’t fathom losing her as a friend because of my stupid feelings.

I guess time will tell…

-Matt

“Matt what the fuck are you doing?” Nick says barging into my room. Causing me to slam my book shut and snap my head up at him

“Nothing. I’m writing” I said placing the book on my lap

“We’ve been calling your name for a while….Y/N thought you weren’t here or anything” he said laughing

“Y/N’s here?” I asked my eyebrows perking up

“Uh yeah” he said furrowing his brows at me

“And she was looking for me?” I asked scratching the back of my neck

“Well we were all looking for you….What's going on?” Nick asked looking at me sideways

“Nothing nothings going on” I said shaking my head

“Okayyy then” he said raising his eyebrows

I threw my book on the bed and stood up stretching and patting Nick on the shoulder

“I’ll be in living room” I replied walking out my bedroom door

Unbeknown to Matt his journal had propped open on his bed. Showcasing the entry he just wrote, and Nick raised his eyebrows. Truly enticed by what he was writing

“Nick this is wrong” the boy said to himself

He trotted over to the bed and shook his head…thinking he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. Matt was acting weird lately and he figured the reason would be within these pages.

Looking over to see if anyone was near the door he let a breath of air out as he grabbed the book and looked down.

His eyes popping out of his head at what he was reading. Holy shit? My brother is in love with our best friend? He thought to himself

The way he described her had Nick's eyes scanning the page rapidly looking for more. How did Y/N not realize how head over heels this kid was for her….

But then he thought and things started to add up. Nervous around Y/N randomly, avoiding eye contact, getting embarrassed easily, catching him stare at Y/N always….

He knew it! All along Nick knew that his brother had a thing for Y/N, and he feels kind of dumb that it took him this long to realize why his brother was acting so weird.

Nick shut the book and placed it back on the bed. His heart racing with this new information that he was not supposed to know about.

Matt’s POV

Y/N had come over for our monthly movie night. Since our friendship started one night every month we binge watched all types of movies.

Y/N called it her stay relevant with current pop culture night. I just think she liked movies and needed a good excuse to keep us seated for hours on end.

Before playing our first movie we decided to eat dinner. Chris offered to cook and we all scurried away from the kitchen. Opting for McDonald’s instead.

“What movies are you planning for tonight?” Chris asked Y/N

“I’m not sure I think we should start with something sad and then build our way up to scary and then romance and then comedy” she said taking a sip of her drink

“What’s your idea of sad?” Nick asked her

“Now I wouldn’t say it’s sad, but it seems alt and creepy and it has a deep message” she began to say

“You’re such a weirdo” Chris said cutting her off

“Hey! Let her say the movie” I butt in sticking my hand out to stop Chris

“Thanks Matt, it’s requiem for a dream” she said looking at me

“Never heard of it” Nick said

“Yeah me neither” Chris replied

“Well it’s about drug addicts who are trying to find ways to get their next high, but it all starts to go wrong and it’s supposedly really good” she said getting excited

We all kind of looked at her. Me enticed and Nick and Chris bored

“Nick and Chris are looking at me like I’m crazy, but how about you Matt?” She asked looking over at me

“Hmm?” I replied looking at her

“The movie? Want to watch it?” She asked

“Uhh yeah, sure” I said smiling at her

“See! This is why you’re my favorite” he said leaning over and hugging me while laughing

Instantly her touch made me stiffen up. I was becoming nervous and my voice was straining far from me. All I could do was offer a pat to her arm and a smile.

Her eyebrows furrow at this and I mentally smack myself in the head. What the fuck was that? I thought

We cleaned up our wrappers and headed back to the couch

“Matt sit by me?” Y/N asked me patting the empty spot next to her

“Okay” I blurted out nervously

I sat down next to her, stiff like a board might I add. Not really letting my body touch hers as my breathing began to quicken in my chest.

Everything about this situation was making me so fucking nervous. How she mindlessly situated herself, often brushing her leg or hand against me and offering soft “sorries” to which I replied with a shake to my head.

We began the movie and it was actually very interesting. Keeping my eyes locked in the whole time, and scratching my head at the plot.

However I kept noticing Y/N glancing over at me. Making me swallow thickly as anxiety crept up the back of my neck.

She wasn’t even doing anything and my body was reacting. My leg started to shake and I mindlessly started to bite the inside of my lip.

“Hey you okay?” Y/N leaned over and whispered in my ear

“Yeah yeah I’m okay” I replied quickly glancing at her

“You seem a bit on edge today” she said back

“What? Me? No” I replied a bit confused

“Well okay” she said sitting back against the couch

What the fuck was I doing? The anxiety is becoming too much. I decided to stand up and head outside for a breeze and to clear my mind.

Nick had watched Matt walk outside, furrowing his brows and looking over at Y/N who’s eyes had followed where Matt was going.

A smile grew on nicks face and he began to speak

“I think you should see what’s wrong with him” Nick said to Y/N

“He seemed a bit on edge I don’t want to make him mad” she replied looking over at the boy

“No he’s just got some things on his mind I think you talking to him would be better than one of us” he replied to her

She nodded her head and offered him a small smile.

She got up and headed outside

Matt’s POV

I sat on a lawn chair looking at the trees moving in the breeze. My thoughts interrupted when I heard the creak of the back door

“Matt?” I heard from behind me

“Yeah?” I replied looking over my shoulder

“What’s wrong? You seem off” she said sitting next to me

“Nothings wrong I promise” I replied smiling at her

“You’re lying” she said staring blankly at me

“Okay fine….just a bit of anxiety is all” I replied

“That was the half truth…what’s really going on” she said rolling her eyes at me

“You wouldn’t get it” I replied looking back at the trees

“Matt, come on. We tell each other everything” she says groaning

“But this I want to keep to myself” I said rubbing my eyes

“But if it’s making you anxious you should just say it” she said back to me

“I don’t know how to say it” I said turning and looking at her

“Oh sure you do come on” she said egging me on

“It’s just I am so madly in love with you, and I have been for a while. And I don’t know that you feel the same way and I can’t risk losing a friendship over this. But everytime I see you it’s like my body is on fire and my chest aches for you. Everything about you is gorgeous and amazing and I can’t help myself from falling more and more each day” I blurted out

“Matt….I….I like you so much. And I thought the lingering touches and the glances would give you an idea. But I figured I was creeping you out” she said laughing a bit

“No. You were making me nervous” I replied laughing too

Without a second thought Y/N pressed her lips to mine, and at first it took me by surprise. But then my right hand laid on her cheek as I pressed my lips against hers.

This kiss was better than I could have ever imagined. It was like we were made for each other. Her soft lips made my skin melt as the stars aligned above us.

I pulled away and looked at her before smiling at her

“Can I….can I be your boyfriend?” I asked smiling at her

“Yes Matt! 100 times yes” she replied before crashing her lips to mine again

A beautiful kiss under the clear night sky…just like a movie<3

The End

HIIIIII hope yall enjoyed this one🥹🖤🖤 I got many more requests to pump out, so stay tuned! Love yall dearly 🤭🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo imagines #Matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagines

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 9 months

Note

OK RUIN DLC AVAILABLE!! Can I make a request then? How do Ruin glam.freddy, Ruin glam.chica, Ruin Monty, and Ruin Roxy react to an overwhelmed reader? Too much is happening to Child Reader and he ends up crying or bursting with rage. How would they react to the reader? (sorry for my english 😅)

Oh don't worry! Your english is good! (for this, we'll just say reader takes Cassie's place)

.........

Prototype/Ruined Freddy

All you wanted to do was find your friend, and you thought you'd find an ally in your quest when you discovered Freddy in the decrepit Fazer Blaster room.

But something was very wrong as he emerged from the wreckage, joints clicking and parts shuffling before he finally turns to screech at you with great hostility.

Not with his mouth, as he lacked a head, but with his birthday cake hatch that acted like a gaping monstrous maw.

He hunted you down like a wild animal, chasing you until you managed to reach the next inhibitor-

Only for Freddy to be there first, cornering you at last and almost daring you to come closer.

But you were so terrified, so stressed that...you just hid somewhere and cried, not caring what happens to you anymore. "I-I'm sorry, Gregory..I can't do this. I'm too scared and I don't know where I'm going!!"

It's in that moment where Freddy briefly snaps out of the M.X.E.S programming controlling him.

He may have been a prototype, but he did have similar directives to his successor--that being to ensure the safety and happiness of all children who visited. That was his priority.

He follows your cries, and instead of attacking, he offers you the green present in his chest to cheer you up.

You worried it was some trick, but you take it anyways, finding a scratched-up Freddy magnet inside, barely recognizable aside from the shape.

Relieved, you smile and pocket the gift, wiping away your tears. "Th-Thanks, Freddy.."

He stands back up, only for the M.X.E.S to take ahold of him again.

While he's fighting back against it, you duck under him and turn off the inhibitor before making your escape, not looking back once even as he storms after you.

At least you knew he wasn't doing this on purpose.

Ruined Chica

If you weren't already overwhelmed enough by everything happening within the ruined mall...Chica's shattered voicebox was the icing on top.

The noises hurt your ears so, so much..and suddenly you became terrified of every creaking or grating metal sound, always thinking it's her.

Staying on your toes was important, of course, though it was getting to be too much for you to bear.

When she's hunting you down in one of the kitchens, you're so stressed that you end up hiding and covering your ears, trying not to cry as the noises continued.

Before they...abruptly stopped, as she's now aware that her voice simply wasn't going to come back.

But in that moment, she heard your sniffle and immediately found your hiding spot.

You think you're doomed until she sees you covering your ears still, and despite her eyes being out of sorts..

They looked quite guilty.

The M.X.E.S has no control over her at the moment, so she spares you and leaves.

At some point later on you find her original voice box, seeking her out and repairing her to the best of your ability.

"I smell pizza!!" She trills, before the reality sets in that she has her voice back at last!

And it's a brief moment of happiness for her before she shuts down, seeing you by her side as her vision goes dark.

While doing this didn't make you any less stressed about your search for your friend...you felt better knowing you helped her.

Ruined Roxy

She wasn't targeting you because of the M.X.E.S, but rather because she assumed you were Gregory, threatening to tear out your eyes and make them hers.

However she decided to stalk you at a very bad time, as you began shouting and throwing stuff at her after getting so fed-up with coming to dead ends and Helpi's irritating voice.

The first thing was a plushie, which isn't super effective in hurting her, but the sudden impact startled her nevertheless.

Then you began pelting whatever you could find on the ground. Soda cans, crumbled papers, etc. even as she apologized over and over, shielding herself.

"K-Kid, I'm sorry..!!"

"I'm not afraid you anymore!! LEAVE ME ALONE, FREAK!!"

Suddenly, she freezes up, sniffling before she touches her face self-consciously.

"Th-That's right..I'm...I-I'm a freak...I'm a hideous freak!!" She wails, ultimately collapsing to the ground crying.

You stop, realizing the (emotional) damage you've done and....feeling guilty when you see her sobbing.

You honestly thought she was mindless like all the others...and yet..part of her old personality remained, notably the "insecure" part of it.

Keeping the mask clipped to your side (as you didn't wanna see her through some green hologram), you approach and kneel down, awkwardly trying to comfort her.

"Roxy? I-I...I didn't mean to call you that. I'm sorry." You frown. "You're not a freak, you're still..um...p-pretty. I..I've just been angry and I took it out on you...because you keep thinking I'm Gregory."

She's surprised to hear that you aren't actually him, but is still hurt by the insult.

You stay with her for a bit, reminding her of the mantras she used to tell herself back then, and she begins to repeat them with a smile on her face.

"Your tail is beautiful, your hair is beautiful..and everyone loves you."

"My tail...is beautiful. My hair is..beautiful...and everyone loves me.."

"Yeah, that's good!"

Ruined Monty

He used to be the coolest character to you.

But now? He was nothing like his former self. Just a mindless beast crawling around and trying to bite your legs off.

It was sad, in a way.

Yet you've been attacked by him nonstop ever since you got that stupid mask.

He didn't just scare you, though.

If anything...you got angry right back at him, shouting at him to go away and/or throwing whatever you could to keep him off your back.

Somehow he keep finding you. It's like he had some personal vendetta against you and was powered by rage alone.

In Gator Golf, you found a golf club that wasn't broken, deciding to keep it with you should you ever need to defend yourself.

He was an alligator, yet it somehow shocked you when you're trying to reach the next conduit to unlock a door....and discover that he can swim.

You were stuck traversing boxes like you were playing "the floor is lava"...except the lava is Monty, of course.

When you finally unlock the door, he roars and makes a desperate grab for your leg, and would have succeeded in dragging you into the electrified water...

Had you not used the club to break his hand and chip some of his teeth.

It seemed to bring him genuine pain....but you didn't care.

"Sorry, Monty...BUT I'M NOT YOUR DINNER!!!" You shout as you knock him back into the water, watching him fry.

Part of you felt guilty for doing that once you calmed down and got to safely, but what else could you do?

He was too far gone to help. You had to put him out of his misery.

#clanask #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #fnaf sb x reader #fnaf security breach x reader #fnaf ruin x reader #fnaf ruin spoilers #ruin spoilers #ruined freddy #prototype glamrock freddy #ruined chica #ruined monty #ruined roxy #child reader #male reader #headcanons #platonic

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popquizhot-shot · 9 months

Text

Father Mine- 3

ok so this is where canon goes out the window, ive made my own universe, this might be blasphemy against marvel comics but i dont know. Honestly i made this up as i kept going and i like how this chapter ended<3 tell me how you like it! if you want a spoiler go to the tags and see what i've tagged :) part 1

You must have passed out because you wake up in someone’s living room.

“Anyone home?” You dare to call out. The apartment is sort of open-plan and if you had the energy to turn around and move you would have been able to see the man in the white suit staring at you.

“Yep. Hello!” The man walks up to you and you flinch at his strong southern london accent and glaring white suit that makes him look like a psycho Colonel Sanders, “I hope you’re alright, Khonshu said you were from another dimension?”

You reluctantly reply, “That’s right? And by Khonshu do you mean the actual Egyptian God?”

He nods excitedly, “Yea! Right twit he is!”

You look at him worriedly, maybe he is psycho colonel sanders after all.

He looks at himself in the mirror and does a double take, “Oh bollocks! No wonder you look scared!” The suit disappears to reveal a man with wild curls in an oversize t-shirt and pajamas, “sorry, sometimes I forget I still have it on.” He smiles nervously, “Um I’m Steven. With a V.”

That causes you to smile a little, maybe he’s not so bad, “Hello Steven.” You wave from your position on the couch and tell him your name.

Behind him you see a bony pigeon looking skeleton appear and your eyes widen, “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!” You point at it and scream.

Steven turns around, “That’s Khonshu, you can see him?”

“NO SHIT!” You web a wall and pull yourself up to stick to it, glaring at the offending creature.

“That’s mental.” He exclaims.

“What universe is this?” You ask him, eyes narrowed underneath your mask.

“Well, there’s no particular name for it.” Steven begins, but Khonshu intervenes, “How is it that you were able to traverse through the inter dimensional planes?”

“I knew someone who could.”

Suddenly Stevens demeanour changes and your spider sense tingles, you ready your webs against the potential threat.

The voice that comes out of Stevens mouth is not his. It’s the sound of the man who threw you here.

“Kid?” He says when you freeze and take your mask off, looking at him with wide eyes.

“You’re-You’re not Steven.” Your voice breaks at the familiar lilt.

He shakes his head, “My name is Marc.”

———————————-

“Miguel! Stop it!” Jess finally snaps and the man looks up at her.

She takes a hold of his hair and uses it to maneuver his face to look at him, “You either go and get her back, or you fucking move on. Because in this state there is no way you will be able to do anything. Get your shit together. ”

He gulps, not used to seeing her angry side often and nods.

“She thinks I’m a monster.” He looks down at his toes and breathes shakily.

“Then prove to her that you’re not. You’re her father, regardless of what she says, she still loves you. You need to apologize to her.” She looks at him pointedly and he sighs.

"What do you want me to say, 'Hey honey, I know what I did was wrong, I was wrong to chase a teenager and I was too blinded by my fear of losing my daughter again that I chased you away. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.' Thats not going to be good enough."

"It's a start."

"Jessica." he looks up

"What?"

"I should have told you, something about her."

"What?"

"She's not a normal variant, even if her universe was destroyed. That fact alone makes her a special case. There's a reason I sent her to Earth 19999. Her atoms and dna will not glitch there. And I don't know why."

"Why didn't you send her there before?"

"It was too dangerous."

"As opposed to Earth 1999999?" Jess raises an eyebrow.

"Very similar universes, but everything is flipped."

The woman tilts her head, "What do you mean?"

————-

You sip on the hot tea Steven had made for you, glaring at the bony god sitting opposite you.

“I cannot send you back, child.” He says and you roll your eyes,

“As if I didn’t know that. The tea’s lovely, thank you.” You smile at Steven who beams at you. He’s much nicer than the American man living inside him. The one who was Miguel in this universe.

“Marc?”

He nods, “I happen to know of someone who can help you.”

You tilt your head, “Go on.”

He went to explain how he was on call as an Avenger, who were considered the world’s mightiest heroes, and how he was acquainted with someone known as Dr Strange.

As soon as he says, the name Strange, your mind considers the possibility that you might be in the universe of idiots, as Miguel calls it. Earth-1999999.

He’s spent whole hours explaining the entire storyline that honestly came out of a movie to you and while it was such, really Captain America you ditched your best friend to go be with someone who had already moved on? You were drawn to the universe.

It reminded you very much of your home universe that was destroyed.

When you’d nodded and said you’d be on your way he’d blocked you from leaving. Saying it was too dangerous and that you were being an irresponsible person.

You tried to reason with him but he was able to block your punches with efficiency, and he reached for your web slingers. The ones Miguel had given you.

That was currently why there was a purple bruise on Stevens’s cheek that you felt bad about. This sweet man didn’t deserve to suffer the consequences of a hard punch. So you had helped him around the kitchen and he made you tea as a way of saying thank you.

“If you can’t take me away, you can atleast lead me to Strange, considering your own Knight isn’t letting me leave.”

“For good reason.”

“But it doesn’t make sense, without the watch I would be glitching every three seconds because the universe would not accept my genes. Here I haven’t glitched a single time.”

The god tilts his head and seems to contemplate your words, mimicking the man who looks at you with his head tilted, “Most interesting.”

Whatever you were going to say died on your tongue as orange sparks began to appear out of thin air, forming a circle and then a portal out of which a man with a weird beard walks through. He nods at Steven and walks over to you, “So you’re the one huh?”

“No, your mom is.” You snarl, “Yes. Doctor Strange, I’ve heard of you.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, “Am I a common topic of conversation in the multiverse?”

“When we have to make fun of something yes.” You grin.

He rolls his eyes, “How did you arrive here?”

“Look I'd leave if I could, sir. But my device was taken away by the jerk who sent me here.”

His eyes narrow, “Sent you?”

Shit, you might have said the wrong thing.

------------------

"So you're not from here." The sorcerer supreme raises his eyebrow at you.

"No, sir." you're shocked at your politeness, but the man demands respect.

"And you cannot go back?"

"No."

"There is only one person now, who is capable of autonomous multiverse travel, America Chavez. And even her powers are not perfect. It is too risky to do this."

"What would you have me do then?" you ask.

"Wait here, there must be a reason you are not glitching. Maybe, you were meant to be sent here." Strange reasons.

His words make sense, honestly, maybe this universe would be your new home. Even back in Nueva York, you had to wear the watch at all times, or you'd be glitching.

But did Miguel know that? Because if he didn't know, then that would mean he'd sent you to your death.

You just nod at what Strange says, his words going in one year and out the other. You miss the way his eyes glint and flash. His shadow moving under him.

"She can stay with us at the tower." Steven puts his hand on your shoulder, looking directly at Strange, no smile on his face. After a few moments, the Doctor nods.

Your spider sense starts to tingle, and you glace at Steven, who only smiles at you. All teeth. Eyes that are blank. Devoid of emotion.

Now that you're here to stay, he looks like he's never been happier.

"You're going to enjoy yourself here, love." he pats your shoulder, "We'll all have a bit of fun."

You need to run.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #marc spector #atsv miguel #father mine #mini miguel<33 #mandela catalogue #atsv

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adventuringblind · 10 months

Text

Daddy Issues Finale

Max Verstappen x reader

Genre: Angst and hurt/comfort

Request: no but they are open for Max, Charles, Lando, Oscar, and possibly Danny Ric if y’all have any ideas

Summary: Finally needing both fathers to leave you and Max alone, you start making steps towards going no contact to protect yourselves. Suddenly, the reader finds herself in an unlikely situation and once again finds herself dealing with their fathers.

Warnings: Read the title… it literally says daddy issues. Most forms of abuse are mentioned in this fic, so please proceed with caution. Sort of kidnapping. Reader is drugged. Also, this isn’t proofread because proofreading is hard, and I am lazy.

Notes: we’re back in third person! Also, the reader gets so fed up and becomes a slight menace. I totally was not expecting it to get this dark but here ya go!

Masterlist // Part one // Part two

Max was well aware he needed to do something about this situation. He just didn't know what yet.

It had been a few days since he found her on the floor. Eye's puffy and cheeks tear stained. He felt every bit of restraint he had snapped in him. He knew that logical thing to do was try to go no contact woth both fathers. But that didn't stop him from wanting to punch both for what they did to her.

He'd convinced her to get away for a while. So you headed out with Kika for some 'girl time' as she called it.

Max, on the other hand, was sat on the couch with Pierre, Lando, and Charles. Trying his best to give an explanation of what happened without getting to detailed.

They were nosey, though. So Max was bound to spill eventually.

"He hit her- twice."

The three other men stared at him in shock. Their mouths agape at what he'd just confessed.

"That explains her behavior when I picked her up from the airport." Lando sighed.

"What are you going to do about it, Mate?" Piqued Charles. His hand rubbing against his head to try and process what he'd just heard.

"I don't know yet if I'm being honest."

They all were aware of the bags under Max’s eyes. How his voice sounded so broken. He’d seemed so happy just last week. Thinking his father was finally going to let him breathe. Jos technically did, but he turned that frustration to you instead.

Yesterday Max was given her phone. She had set it in his lap and said everything he’d need to know was in your texts. One rule neither had ever broken was going through each others phones without permission. Both sides had parents that loved to invade privacy. So the two had come to the conclusion that they would communicate what they felt needed to be at that moment.

Y/N had struggled to talk about what happened the last few months. So she just gave Max her phone and let him read what had been texted to her. It was a little easier this way. He could get find what he’d needed to know and maybe get some questions answered and she didn’t have to struggle to get the words out.

“The things they’ve said to both of us are awful, but this a new extent of that.” His voice wavered. His friends doing their best to comfort him. They all knew it was bad. It was obvious after he started joking about it like it was normal. “We both have their numbers blocked. So hopefully that will keep them away for now.”

“Well your dad showed up at your door. Do you think he might do it again?” Pierre’s voice, albeit gentle, had an urgency about it.

Max groaned and flopped backwards further into the couch. The thought hitting him like a train. His dad could show up unannounced, again. “We’ll have to move.”

“There’s an open apartment in my building.” Lando quickly suggested. “We could have sleepovers!”

It didn’t take long for the two to get the apartment. Even less time for getting everything moved in. It wasn’t too far away from where they had been living, and everyone wanted to help get them out of there as quick as possible.

Everyone had agreed not give any ideas that they had moved. Privacy becoming important for the two lovers. Both stopped their online presence aside from Max’s professional one. He doesn’t even run that account, his PR manager does. He’d had a conversation with her talking about how he’d been having some safety issues.

The two were relieved when they made it to the next race with no parents in sight. Y/N however, was still on edge about sitting in the Redbull garage. Max was understanding about it and said he could see if Christian would let her sit by him to watch or maybe in the Alpine garage with Kika.

She went for the second option. Waiting until the very last second to give Max a kiss before the race. Then she made her way through the paddock to locate Kika.

She was so close to the safety of the Alpine garage. Close to being able to enjoy the race and watch Max do what he loves. Until a familiar face had her doubling back to the safety of Redbull. Or maybe nowhere was safe.

People were closing in on her. Her breath becoming increasingly restricted in her lungs. She needed to get back within eye shot of Christian. He knew some of what happened. Enough to know that if he saw Jos around the Redbull garage, to have him escorted away. He’d probably be busy though, and she didn’t want to distract anyone.

She did feel a little better after seeing Max in first on the screen. Her eyes leaving the path in front of her for a measly ten seconds. Only to find herself falling to the ground.

She gathered her bearings and made a move to get back on her feet. Until she felt a hand in her shoulder.

“It’s been awhile,” Came the voice of Jos Verstappen.

Max had an amazing race. He was excited to win, but he was also excited to find his lover. He didn’t see her during the podium celebration. Most likely due to the crowds. He’d try to locate her in the Alpine garage when he was don’t.

As he was walking around doing his media duties, he locked eyes with Pierre. Pierre who was holding hands with Kika. Kika who was supposed to be with you.

Max excused himself from the reporter and jogged up to his friend. “Kika, do you know where Y/N is?”

“No, sorry, I haven’t seen her all day. I thought she was with you since she hasn’t answered my texts.” She explained.

All three passed looks of confusion before they all became determined to find you.

Max was texting and calling you repeatedly. Praying that neither of your fathers had actually shown up. He finally ran into Christian who was trying to congratulate him on another win. Max, however, only hear the sound of you crying from his memories. Concern flooded through Christian as he watched Max delve further into the panic.

“Max? Are you alright? Can you tell me what’s going on?” He voice calm but urgent enough to get Max to come back to his senses. Now clinging to the sound. Using it to ground himself.

“She’s missing.” He breathed

“Who? Y/N.”

Max frantically began nodding his head. The desperation to find her clearly evident.

“I’ll ask around the garage if anyone has seen her. Why don’t you check your driver room and take a minute to breath.”

He didn’t want to take time to himself. He should be looking for his love. Christian made a point though, he wouldn’t be able to think rationally if he didn’t calm down.

Now he sits alone. Letting the tears escape. Still attempting to call her only to be greeted by the cheery voicemail recording.

When he’d calmed himself down and it didn’t feel like his head was spinning, he began his search one more. Retracing the possible path you might have taken to the Alpine garage.

It seemed everyone was searching high and low for her now.

There were only so many places you could be.

Max was startled by the sudden sound of his phone ringing in his pocket. Disregarding the caller ID, he simply answered “hello” without any hesitation.

“Is this Mr. Verstappen?” Asked an unfamiliar feminine voice.

“Yes, who am I speaking with?”

“This is a nurse from the general hospital.”

Everything after that was a blur. He hardly focused on the details. Only running back to his drivers room to find his rental car keys and his wallet.

He ran into Lando on the way. Making his best attempt at explaining while rushing around to grab his things. He hadn’t even bothered changing back into regular clothes yet.

“How about I drive and you change in the backseat.” Lando shot Max a wink and despite everything going on, Max managed a smile. At least he knows where she is now.

Everything happened in a whirlwind. One minute she was on her way to see Kika and the next she was gripped by the arm and told not to make a scene.

Her survival instincts kicked in. Knowing she should listen to the man who is determined to make her and Max’s lives miserable. He really needs a new hobby.

She wanted to scream as they passed by Redbull again, but something in her stopped her lungs from doing so. ‘Why is defending someone you love easier than defending yourself?’ She thinks to herself as the two exit the paddock entirely.

It doesn't take long until Jos is shoving her into the back seat. She complies, knowing he's unpredictable.

When she finally is in the car, she notices the figure on the drivers side starting the car.

Her father had come along too.

"Isn't this considered kidnapping?" She asks sarcastically. The car pulling put and starting the journey to an unknow destination.

Neither of them speak. It's unsettling and eerie.

She wanted Max. She needed Max. She knew if she wasn't back before race end that he would be frantic.

They'd tried so hard to be safe and private at the same time. Maybe they should have just made a public statement. Now, everyone was going to find out in the most dramatic way possible.

"Are you going to murder me?"

"No, now shut up, or I will." Spits Jos.

"I would if just told me where we're going." She shrugs. Knowing she's making them aggravated.

If Jos hadn't taken her phone, this would be a very different situation. She curses whoever made women's pockets so small.

"Fine, if you need to know so bad, im taking you home. Far away from Max. Back where you belong." Her Father shouts. Knuckles are turning white from gripping the steering while so hard. "You two are bad influences on each other. You tell each other lies about your families! I've done some research, and I think maybe you're hallucinating. I'm taking you home where you can get help." He explains.

This time, she didn't say anything. The tears weren't stopping. You knew your father had said things like this before about your mom. Going as far as to try and get her diagnosed with any kind of mental disorder that fit.

It never worked because she never had symptoms of anything he was suggesting. How was he expecting to make it work this time?

The answer came sooner than expected. A moment she slipped into the back of her head to escape left her open and vulnerable.

A needle was jammed into her leg by Jos. A cold feeling spreading through her body. She had no idea what it was. Only that it wasn't good and she needed to get out of this car.

The adrenaline from her flight instincts kicked in, and her breathing picked up. They were on a slower street. One lined with small shops and pedestrians. If she was going to jump, now was her chance.

Without thinking, she opens the door and launches herself towards the sidewalk. The people around either running away or running to help her.

She vaguely remembers someone asking what happened and if they should call somone.

"Max" was the only thing she could get out before tumbling into the darkness.

Max rushs inside the emergency room. Lando dropped him right outside the door before trying to hunt down a parking spot.

"How can I help you?" Asks the nurse. A little startled by his sudden appearance.

'I'm looking for someone."

It didn't take long before he was being led back to where they had been keeping her.

Relief flooding through his veins when he layed eyes on her. Trying and struggling to sip water through a straw.

Her eyes went wide when she saw him. Flinging the blanket off and swinging her legs over the side like she would just walk to him.

He rushed over to her and gently laid her back down. Her pupils are blown, and her body is swaying side to side. Confusion takes hold of Max. "What happened to her?" He asks the nurse.

"She has a minor fracture in her wrist and a gash on her knee from the impact of the sidewalk. We're still running tests to see the specific drugs in her system, but we do know for sure she was drugged." The nurse explains.

Max feels his stomach lurch. "I don't understand. What happened to her?"

"My apologies, I thought the authorities had spoken to you already. I'll send them in to explain."

Max's head is reeling. The love of his life was drugged, and who knows what else. It doesn't matter what any reporter says. He's getting extra security.

Tears slip from his eyes as he holds you. "I'm sorry, love."

"Why are you sorry, Maxy? You're here." She slurs. A smile graced her lips despite the situation.

The sound of heavy boots makes Max look up. The girl on the bed is now entertaining himself with his fingers.

"Are you family?" The officer asks.

"Yeah."

"We should step outside."

Max got up from his place beside her on the bed. She looked at him, tears welling in her eyes. Struggling to comprehend what was happening.

"I'll be right back." He soothed her. Placing a kiss on the top of her head.

Max followed the officer outside and closed the door behind him.

"We have reason to believe she was kidnapped. Witnesses told us she jumped out of a moving car and then almost immediately passed out."

Max's mind went in so many directions at once. How could this have happened? How did nobody notice?

The officer opened a manilla envelope and slid out two pictures. "These are the suspects who we caught trying to get her back in the cat. Do you recognize them?"

Max's hand flew to his face. He couldn't get words out. He was about to sink to his knees before Lando came around the corner. Seeing him about to buckle and reflexivley running up to him. Lando pratically catchs the Dutchman and helps him get steady on his feet again.

Lando tries to get his bearings. He was about to ask Max what happened when he notices the officer and, more importantly, the pictures.

"Isn't that your dad, Max?" Max just shakes his head yes. Releived Lando is there to say what he's trying to.

Lando leans in closer, the officer surprised at the action and almost pulling away. He stops, however, at Lando's next words. "And isn't that Y/N's father?"

It didn't take them long to have the young woman discharged from the hospital. Lando driving the two home and helping check the apartment for any potential threats.

The two males could tell she was feeling awful. The doctors flushed her system with water and put a cast on the fracture. The two were exhausted.

Lando said his goodbyes and told Max to call if they needed anything. including someone to stand guard.

Max had texted everyone on the ride home that she was back safe.

A new question on his mind: What happens now? Both your fathers had been taken into custody. Mainly on the charge of kidnapping. But the officer said they could testify and get them put away for longer.

Could the two of you manage that? The side of him that wanted to make his father happy said he should go bail him out. On the other hand, the two would finally he safe. No more anxieties about awful parental figures doing unwarranted things.

Both could start to finally get the healing they deserve.

It took some time, but both came to the conclusion to prosecute. The day of the trail came far to quickly for you to prepare.

There was supposed to be a race this weekend, but it had been postponed until later in the evening due to many of the racers wanting to testify.

When both were found guilty, the couple started crying. The thought of being free from the awful cloud looming over them finally set in.

Nether of them could believe is was this good.

When Max won the race later, it was the most emotional either had ever been. Max let himself be proud of his achievements.

Months later, the two had begun to heal. A slow process. Both are patient and understanding with each other. Trying to communicate as much as possible. Finding outside help to help guide them.

Security at the paddock had gotten better. She never felt vulnerable. Mainly because someone was always with her, and Christian let her sit next to him during races. He'd joked, saying that you already look like you belong there, so he might as well just give you a job.

And as the two lovers lie in bed together, they reminisce. How their daddy issues brought them together.

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venusxstars · 11 months

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 ⸻ nsfw.

chigiri hyoma × fem!reader

keynotes ⸻ dom chigiri hyoma. clit rubbing. fingering. dirty talk. praise. squirting. aftercare. wherein your boyfriend catches you reading smut.

venus' note ⸻ he's so beautiful. pretty pretty princess has a place in my heart <33 i'm also in love with him.

'RELAX, BABY. LET ME DO ALL THE WORK.' She shudders as his voice—as deep and raspy as the ocean that crashes against the sandy shores—whisper against the shell of her ear.

You feel a slight heat building between your legs as your eyes rapidly consume the words printed on the book's pages, biting your lip a little in need.

His hands are wandering, like a sailor floating on the sea, and discovering every part of her body. She feels it as his slender finger touches the valley between her hip, sliding against the hardened, slick nub carefully as if he was afraid the might break her—touching it delicately like a wet flower's bud and feeling its softness rub against his fingers. A soft moan leaves her—

"What are you reading?" Your heart drops beneath your chest as your boyfriend's voice suddenly spills into the room's initial empty silence. You shut your book immediately and look at your boyfriend who was standing behind you.

He had his brow raised and his arms crossed, but with the way you see the slight quirk at the corner of his lips, you know that he knows what you were reading.

"So?" He chuckles, glancing down at the book in your hands before snatching it quickly. You try to retrieve the book desperately but he pulls it away from your reach. He opens the page you were on earlier and began reading it softly, mumbling the words under his breath with his eyes concentrated on the page. And with each word that rolls smoothly out of his lips, you bite your lip harder in embarrassment.

"Do you like how my fingers feel, baby? You're so fucking wet." Your boyfriend glances up at you while reading the line, his voice dipping down teasingly.

"H-Hyoma—" You stutter, listening to his low voice reading the erotic dialogues.

He tears his eyes away from the book to look at you properly. "You like this stuff?" He closes the book momentarily with his finger inserted between the pages to mark where he was previously reading. "It's... well, something"

"Hyoma!" You hit his shoulder lightly, feeling a little annoyed at his teasing. He had just disturbed you while you were immersed into reading the best part of the book. The heat you felt from earlier was still quite there and it burned even more with each word that he softly uttered as he teasingly read to you.

He raises his hand up in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry." He walks around the couch to sit beside you, pressing his lips against your cheek gently.

You huff out a little at his attempt at apologizing, but it still works nevertheless. You lean your head against his shoulder and press against his side more.

Not even a few minutes pass until he's talking again.

"Say... why don't we read it together, hm?" His voice dips a little deeply as he brushes his lips against your ear. "I like a good book too, you know?"

"W-What... but it's—" You halt, squirming in place awkwardly and looking down at his hands. His right hand holds the book with his index finger still tucking between the page. He begins to open it again, eyeing you momentarily. He places it in your hands.

"Come on" He hums nonchalantly, leaning his head on top of yours. "Read it."

You snap your gaze towards him with wide eyes. "O-Out loud?"

"It's easier to follow that way, isn't it?" He chuckles before pointing at the last paragraph that he was reading.

You notice how his hand other slowly travels down your bare thigh, squeezing the flesh, causing you to gasp quietly. His finger lightly traces a heart on your skin and it almost tickles you across the process while your heart beats faster under your chest.

"H-Hyoma..."

"Come on, baby." He repeats the nickname of the characters in the book. "Read it for me."

Reluctantly, you begin to read. Your words tumble out clumsily and quietly past your lips, jaw stuttering from time to time with each dirty description read out loud. You shiver when your boyfriend's fingers move up from your thigh, nearing the edge of your underwear.

He hums with his lips near your ear. "Mhm? Keep going"

You stutter again, halting when his finger stretches the band of your underwear and releases it with a quiet snap! You jolt with the hairs around your body rising and the heat between your legs pooling up more and more. The added sensations and the erotic words that leave your lips seem to rapidly make you feel needy all the more.

"And then? How did he do it, baby?" He asks breathily against your ear. You could hear his heart beating rapidly underneath his chest as well and how heavy he was breathing.

"H-His fingers continue rub against h-her clit—" You stumble over your words and moan when you feel your boyfriend move your underwear to the side to gently rub your swollen nub. He gathers the wetness seeping down from you pussy and rubs it up towards your clit, circling gently.

"Like this?" He asks with a muffled rasp. He halts his movements when you moan. He coos mockingly against your ear. "Keep reading, baby. Otherwise, I wouldn't know what to do."

"H-Haah— H-Hyoma..." Your brows furrow as you desperately look down onto the book to read just to make him continue his motions. "H-He slowly pushes a finger in a-and she feels her walls clamp d-down around— a-ah!"

You halt again when you feel your boyfriend begin ease his middle finger inside you. You twitch, throwing your head back a little against the rest.

"Continue, baby." He requests softly, moaning beside your ear. "C'mon, you can do it. Your pussy's so wet already. Want to feel you more."

You nod shakily, pulling your gaze down onto the book in your hands. Your knuckles tense as you hold the book tightly, almost clumping the edges of the paper.

"H-He— He begins to move his finger deeper before curling it a little to touch the upper w-walls—" You moan as your boyfriend does the exact same thing. The tip of his finger hits a sensitive spot inside you, so you close your eyes tightly and drop the book onto the floor. "H-Hyoma, c-can't go on. Please do something—"

He groans at your words and begin thrusting his finger in and out of your wet pussy; a pool of thick, transparent substance coating his finger. It allows his finger to move in easier as he occasionally curls it to repeatedly touch your sensitive g-spot.

"Fuck, baby. Look how nicely my finger's thrusting inside of you" He groans out deeply, watching his finger go in and out of your pussy. "So fucking wet for me, hm? You get off reading dirty little things like a naughty girl, hm?"

He brings his thumb up to rub your clit as he thrusts his middle finger into you a little faster. Your lips part, pushing your head back against the rest as you spread your legs more. You groan in frustration when he halts his movements to quickly take off your underwear and throwing it against the floor. But it doesn't take long for him to shove his finger in again with the same intensity and same rhythm as he tries to push you towards your high.

His thrusts grow faster, almost slamming finger knuckles-deep inside you. Each impact causes a shock of pleasure to travel through your belly. His thumb goes back to rubbing against your clit, and so you arch into his touch more, moaning loudly.

"Mhm, baby. Bet you feel so good right now, hm?" His words are breathless and a little shaky. "Love hearing your moans while I fuck you with my finger. How much louder will you get if I fuck you with my cock?"

His words shoot right to your pussy as your clit hardens. You throw your hands onto your breasts under your shirt, pinching and rolling your nipples before rubbing the puffy buds up and down with your middle fingers.

His pinkish-ruby eyes stare down at your appearance with palpable lust. "Shit, you look so cute right now. So pretty while fondling with your tits like that."

His finger thrusts against your sensitive spot repeatedly and you twitch.

"Gonna cum, baby? Go on and cum—" Your pussy pulses repeatedly around his finger before liquid gushes out, spraying onto his arm and hands. His eyes widen at the sight of you squirting. He rides out your orgasm with more slow rhythmic thrusts, watching the liquid squirt out bit my bit every time he pulls his finger back. "Shiiit! Oh yeah baby, look at that— she's gushing for me."

You twitch as you slowly come down from your high and as the last drops of liquid spilling out of you. You breathe in and out deeply, falling against your boyfriend's shoulder limply, thighs twitching every now and then.

"Let me get you a towel, okay?" He takes a pillow and places it beside you so you could lean onto it before standing up. He comes back and begins wiping your legs before moving to wipe your inner thighs gently. He folds it neatly and grabs your underwear on the floor, tucking it between the folded towel. He throws the cloths onto the wash before coming back to sit beside you.

"Thanks, Hyoma." You breathe out with a small smile.

He winks. "So... you read erotica, huh?"

"Shut up."

956 notes · View notes

ursuburbanmother · 9 days

Text

I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter Three

Pairing: Angus Tully x fem!reader

a/n: Mothers and daughters?? Fathers and sons?!?

Word Count: ~4k

Find: Part 1 Part 2

Enjoy!

December 23, 1970

You’ve been stuck in your own mind all day. It's decided to shut down like a panic room and you can see Angus try to crack it open with his attempts at small talk. Mary and Mr. Hunham share uncomfortable glances at each other, slightly humored about the quiet lunch they are having that would usually be filled by chatter from you two.

Angus leans in close to your ear, “You said we would talk today.”

“After this,” you murmur, sinking into the wooden chair.

“If this is about yesterday, it was just a weird moment, it didn’t mean anything.”

“Stop talking,” you say as nicely as you can when you see Mary's eyebrow quirk up at Angus’s comment.

“I have a surprise,” Mr. Hunham suddenly announces. Your eyes snap to him, embracing the distraction. He brings out a platter full of Christmas cookies and places them on the table. “These were a gift to me, and I would like to share them with both of you.”

Angus is unimpressed and by the way he is scowling, he's upset too. “Look at them. Look at all the festive shapes. Snowflakes and gingerbread men. A tree. A little mitten,” Mr. Hunham picks up the red and white frosted cookie and takes a bite. “Mmm,” he looks pleasantly surprised.

“Thank you, Mister. This is really nice,” You reach for the snowflake. You’re not sure how well sloppy joe and sugar will settle in your stomach but you're willing to gamble on it. Mr. Hunham gives you a thin smile.

“May I go to the bathroom, sir?” Angus asks, already pushing away his dish and getting up from his chair.

“You may,” he sighs, watching the boy walk away.

“Well, I’m trying,” he says to the group, defeated.

You give him a weak grin, “These are good cookies though. If that means anything to you.”

Mary chuckles at your exchange. Mr. Hunham gets up and goes the same direction Angus had exited. Your eyes follow him until it is impossible for you to see him without breaking your neck. You turn to Mary who is close to finishing her cigarette. She blows the smoke away from your direction and pushes the packet towards you.

“Want one?”

“Oh. No thanks. That's Angus’s thing.”

“Alright. But don’t go asking for one later.”

“I won’t,” you laugh quietly. You hear voices in the hallway get louder. Angus shouts something you can’t make out and Mr. Hunham's response follows shortly after. Their noise fades away and you rub your tired eyes to snap you awake. You never could get enough sleep. You swear you could sleep for twenty-four hours and still feel groggy.

“What's going on with you two?” Mary asks.

“Angus and I?”

“No. You and the ghost that haunts the infirmary,” she took a sip of her coffee while shaking her head in amusement.

“My mother says I'm a bit of a blabbermouth. I don’t know if you want to hear the details,” you warn.

“Give me the reader's digest,” she pats the seat next to her. Bringing your coca-cola with you, you go cross over to her side of the table. “Okay. Tell me if you think I’m crazy-”

“I will.”

“-But Angus has been acting so weird. One second, he's all moody, a regular Holden Claufield, and the next he’s nice and being the Angus I’ve known all my life. I don’t know… Maybe he’s at the stage where his feelings swing around like a pendulum.”

“That's all-teenagers sweethearts. Even at adulthood, that pendulum never stops swinging. At some point it may slow down only for a gust of wind to return it into motion.”

“I mean he’s always been a little short-tempered, just never towards me. Yesterday,” you wonder if you are getting too personal now, “he called me selfish.”

“Selfish? The girl that just scarfed down a cookie to make an old man feel better.”

You shrug. You never knew how to take compliments. “I know I should just ask him what's really going on, but I don’t want him to blow up on me again.”

“If he does come to me. I’ll whip him into shape for you.”

“Thank you,” you giggle. “What do you think happened out there?” You tilt you heard towards the doors.

“Their usual bickering. That boy is probably paying the price for cursing Hunham out right now.”

“How long have you known Mr. Hunham?”

She paused before answering, “A while now.”

“Has he always been this… strong-willed?”

“Stubborn as a mule you mean? Yes, he has. Although the years have certainly hardened him more.”

“Why’s that?"

“Not sure. He’s a private man. I haven’t been able to pry anything out of him.”

“Not even when he’s,” you make your hand into a fist, extending the pink and thumb. You move it back and forth to mimic drinking from a bottle.

Mary cackles. “Not even then.”

…

The stupidest thing Angus had done was what he had done to you yesterday. He doesn’t know why he said it, why he had called you selfish. It just tumbled out. It was like he was a man possessed. But launching off a springboard in the gym in an act of rebellion was a close second.

He numbed the pain thinking of you. Granted if you were here, you would be lecturing him non-stop and telling him how he should have known better. But at least you would have been here, and he wouldn’t have to watch Mr. Hunham marinate in his misery. At least you would have been there to hold his hand as they popped his arm back into its socket.

Although his mouth had gotten him in trouble the last few days, it had been helpful in getting them out of the hospital insurance issue. And it was about to get him a free burger now too.

They had arrived at the local watering hole. It was jam packed with people getting tipsy with beer. He could hear the clink of billiards and the white noise on the TV.

“I think I’ll start with a beer. How about you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Tully. Get your cheeseburger.”

“They’ve got Miller High Life. The Champagne of Beers.”

“Oh?” Mr. Hunham said, but Angus could tell he was just trying to amuse him.

Angus shut the menu as their waitress came up the stairs to their little booth. “Okay, you ready to order? Oh!” she gasped as she turned to his teacher.

“Miss Crane,” Hunham touched his chest, “As I live and breathe. What-, what are you doing here?”

“Oh hi guys! Yeah, I always pick up a little extra work over Thanksgiving and Christmas,” Miss Crane explained.

It looked as if Mr. Hunham had been snapped awake, “Well, um, this is Mr. Tully,” he motioned his hand towards him.”

“Sure, I know you and your little girlfriend. You two are always glued together like gum on a pole,” Miss Crane said teasingly.

“Y/n L/n," he beamed, "she goes to the girl's school and we’re just friends. But um, we met outside Dr. Woodrup’s office. I was wrongly accused of blowing up a toilet,” he smiled as innocently as he could.

“I didn’t know about the wrongly part,” she shares a laugh with Hunham.

“He’ll have a cheeseburger,” he orders for Angus.

“And a Miller High Life please,” Angus adds quickly.

“Uh. No you will not,” Hunham says sternly.

“Where do you stand on Miller High Life, Miss Crane?”

“Well, like they say, it’s the Champagne of Beers.”

Angus turns to Hunham, “And she’s a professional.”

“Okay, one cheeseburger,” Miss Crane waits for him to fill the blank.

He relents and orders reluctantly, “And a Coke.”

“I’ll have a cheeseburger as well,” Hunham smiled.

“Two cheeseburgers,” she jots down the order on her notepad

“And a Jim Beam. On the rocks. Please.”

“Okay, you got it guys,” She smiles at them before exiting. Paul watches her go and Angus grins at the scene.

“Ouch. You two have chemistry,” he shakes his hand like he had touched a hot plate.

“Okay. That’s the Percodan talking,” Hunham dismisses.

“I don’t know. Seeing her like this, I think she’s pretty attractive,” he hopes his teacher will take the bait.

“Listen, you hormonal vulgarian, that woman deserves your respect, not your erotic speculation.”

Angus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Well, may I at least go to the bathroom? Sir?”

“You mean the payphone?”

They have a stare off before he runs off to the back of the restaurant. Angus scours any leftover change in his back pocket of his jeans. He finds enough to make a call. He scans the room, making sure that Mr. Hunham isn’t hunting him down like last time. He dials the number to the Barton infirmary and hopes you are lounging in your room.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” he chants under his breath. Instead he gets the dial tone. He curses and slams the phone back to its original place.

…

You haven’t seen Angus since the morning. You've been spending all afternoon with Mary instead. You helped with the lunch dishes and are preparing the potatoes for supper later. Mary had a radio in the kitchen which you happily hummed to. Christmas music flooded your ears and reminded you of the holiday. In the halls of Barton there were no decorations, and one could probably convince a kid that the Grinch had stolen them in the dead of night.

“Mary, I'm done,” you proudly show her the bowl of potatoes. In your house most of the cooking was done by private chefs who came in and out so irregularly that you could never learn their names. Understandably, they didn’t have time to entertain a ten-year-olds insistent questions about what it meant to julienne a vegetable.

“Great. Why don’t you start boiling them and get started on chopping those mushrooms.”

“Okay,” you add water to a pot before adding the chomped potato. You find the mushrooms and cut them as thinly as you can. After you place them on the counter next to Mary who has already prepared everything else.

You admire as she adds them to a pan of melted butter. She drops salt, pepper, Italian dressing and other spices you can’t name, without even having to use measuring tools. “You’re Julia Child!” You praise.

“Just years of practice.”

“Hey, when do I get to sauté and mix things?” You get on your tiptoes to get a better look at the mushrooms turning a dark brown.

“When I know you won’t hurt yourself doing it,” she gave a pointed look at the bandaids on your fingers. You may have cut yourself in your first attempts at handling a knife. You hide the hand behind your back. “Sorry.”

You go to sit in a stool by the oven. You open a borrowed copy of a Kerouac book that Angus had in his suitcase. The Subterraneans, written in three days apparently and no offense to Jack but it shows. Mary notices your squinting as you go try to make sense of the writing, inching your face closer and closer to the paper.

“Are you planning to do something with that? The books.” Mary stops her stirring and lowers the heat of the stove. She walks over to you and glances at pages.

“What? Like with writing?” You ask, “I’m not sure. I know I should have figured it out by now but I just never got one of those woosh moments,” you sway your hands in the air.

“Woosh moment?”

“It's like what we talked about with the pendulum. I feel like I've been hanging still and waiting for the wind to send me on my way. I wait for it to push me with the strength of a tornado. Woosh. Almost to flood me with a feeling of knowing? I’m not the best at words…” you trail off.

“You're telling me nothing interests you?” She raised her eyebrow.

“No, a lot of things do. I want to do everything. Right now, for example, I feel like becoming a renowned chef,” you pick up a random bowl and start stirring it slowly.

“Try learning how to handle a knife right first,” she tuts.

“Practice makes perfect Mary,” you smile and look down into the chocolate substance you were messing with. “Cake or brownies?”

“Neither actually. It's more doughy than liquid honey,” she lectures you kindly.

“Right,” you say sheepishly, “I swear I’m smarter when it comes to other things. You should see me in civics class.”

“I believe you,” she winks, “Now get to preheating the oven, Betty Crocker.”

…

Angus goes off to play a game on the Pinball machine and to take his mind off you. It certainly helps him. Avoiding the prospect of getting beat up by locals and injuring another part of his body allows him to momentarily forget the stress he feels when he remembers how pissed you are at him.

Mr. Hunham and Angus eat their burgers quickly. To repay Mr. Hunham for saving his ass, Angus keeps his mouth shut every time he orders a Jim Beam. They leave after Hunham drops a rather generous tip for Miss Crane.

They're walking towards Hunhams car and Angus can’t resist the urge to ask, “Why’d you buy those guys beer? They’re assholes.”

“That’s one way to look at it. Hey. Catch,” he tosses his keys at Angus, who catches them on instinct.

“How many boys do you know who have had their hands blown off? Barton boys don’t go to Vietnam. No, they go to Yale or Dartmouth or Cornell, whether they deserve to or not."

��Except for Curtis Lamb.”

“Except for Curtis Lamb.”

“Were you ever in the military?” Angus’s curiosity peaked.

“I tried to enlist in ‘41, but was rejected,” Mr. Hunham pointed at his eye, as if to say obviously. He tries to unlock the door of the driver's side to no avail. He points towards Angus,“I have to get in through there. Anyways, they made me an air raid warden. Gave me a whistle and everything. Helmet. Arm band.”

Angus opens the door, handing the keys off as Mr. Hunham slides in. He catches a whiff of Mr. Hunham unmentioned scent.

“Before we get going, can I be candid with you?”

“Mm-hmm,”

“You smell,” he states bluntly and Mr. Hunham deflates. Angus joins him inside the Nova, “Like fish. And it’s really noticeable toward the end of the day. I even smell it on your coat. Mind if I crack the window?”

“Trimethylaminuria.”

“Huh?” Angus frowns.

“Trimethylaminuria. Means my body can’t break down trimethylamine. That’s the smell. And, uh, yes, more toward the end of the day.

“Wow. Your whole life? No wonder you’re afraid of women,” he concludes.

“I am not afraid of women,” Hunham says, clearly offended. “Jesus H. Christ.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything. Dr. Gertler says I don’t always give consideration to my audience,” Angus exhales.

“Who’s Dr. Gertler?’’

“My shrink,” Angus wants to disappear.

“Has Dr. Gertler ever tried a swift kick in the ass?”

Angus figures he ought to level the playing field. “Okay, all right, now your turn. Go ahead, tell me something about me. Something negative.”

“Something negative about you?”

“Sure. Just one thing.

“Just one?”

Angus nods and he probably should be offended that he is taking an awful long time to say anything.

“You’re obtuse about your social relationship.”

“What the hell is that supposed mean?”

“You didn’t say I had to elaborate Mr. Tully.”

“Okay well now I want you to. Spit it out.”

“No,” he backs out of his parking spot and hits the road.

“Come on! Explain,” Angus tugs on Hunhams jacket.

“I hope you don’t plan to pester me all the way to Barton. It'll be an awfully long ride.”

He presses down harder on the gas pedal.

…

You had burned the cookies. Not that you could tell when you took a bite of it. The cocoa had disguised it and you had just finished patting your back when you had to spit the whole thing out into the sink. Mary relishes your misery and apologizes through her laughs, wiping the tears in the corner of her eyes.

So your two-course meal had been reduced to just an entree. After thirty minutes of searching and waiting on Angus and Mr. Hunham, you ladies decided to leave the capacious mess hall and have a TV dinner. If your mother could see you now you were sure she would have you arrested by the etiquette police.

Mary was flipping through the channels to tune in to her daily rewatch of the Newlywed Game. You stopped her suddenly, your hand on top of hers to stop her from operating the remote.

“Cactus Flower! I love this movie. Please can we watch it?” You beg, clasping and shaking your hands together.

“What’s it about?” She asks hesitantly, clearly wary about abandoning her favorite program.

“You’ll love it! Ingrid Berman has to pretend to be her boss's wife because he lied to his lover about being married and having kids and shit-,”

“Language.”

“-Sorry. And so now he has to pull off this big con, so she won’t leave his lying as-, butt,” you correct yourself. “Goldie Hawn is sooo good in this. She won an Oscar I think.”

“I supposed I could give it a try. If it bores me we are switching right back though.”

“Deal,” you giggle and scoot the plate balancing on your lap closer so you can dig in.

For the next hour, Mary seems content in watching the characters in the movie ignore and miscommunicate their feelings. Even shaking her head when they do something she finds ridiculous. Your eyes get heavy as the ending nears, your stomach warm and content with the meal you had and the glare of the television tiring your vision. You lean your head back into the couch cushion and close your eyelids. Distantly you hear Ingrid Berman and Walter Matthau confess their love before your world goes dark.

Slumped against Mary, you wake up for the second time that week by the same hands. Angus is shaking your shoulder gently. Your gaze falls immediately to the sling his arm is in.

“Angus! What the hell?” You whisper- shout, fixing your posture and wiping the potential drool off your face. You check to make sure you didn’t wake up Mary.

“It's okay, it's okay,” he reassures. “It’s not broken, or anything just dislocated.”

“What happened?’’ Your arm trails down from where the sling starts to where his hand hangs lazily out. "Is this why you weren’t at dinner tonight? Hunham too?”

“Uh yeah. I jumped off a springboard in the new gym,” he answers bashfully.

“Wow… you are so stupid sometimes.”

“I prefer spontaneous thank you,” he sits down next to you on the couch and lets out a sigh. Using his good arm, he lifts a plastic bag. “We went out to eat and I got you something.”

“Ooh,” You snatch the bag and open it as quietly as you can without crinkling the plastic. Inside the Styrofoam box there's a half-eaten burger with some cold fries. You snack on it anyway offering some to Angus who shakes his head.

“Mr. Hunham thought buying another would be wasteful. He assumed you and Mary would have probably eaten by then so I saved what I could.”

“We did and,” you motion to the plates, “I helped cook it!”

“Really?” Angus's eyes widened, “I’m sorry I missed it.”

“I saved you some cookies,” You pick up the dish of the burnt dessert. You have brought them over believing you had been exaggerating the taste.

You hadn't.

He takes one, clueless, and bites almost half the cookie off. You see him wince but still he continues to chew. He chokes it down and nods, “Not bad?”

“You’re such a liar,” you shove his head lightly. “I forgot to turn on the timer.”

“Yeah I can tell,” he takes your confession as his cue to spit the rest out into a nearby napkin.

“Thanks for this though,” you take a bite of the burger, “I had forgotten what fast food tasted like.”

“Don’t tell him I let you have it. Or that you saw me in fact. The whole arm thing is supposed to be secret.”

“Got it,” you extended your pinky for him to intertwine. He takes it but doesn’t remove his pinky after, instead he lets your connected hands fall between the both of you.

The TV is still on, except the volume is lower and an old black-and-white movie is on. You finish the burger and put the trash aside to throw away in the morning.

“Where is Mr. Hunham now?”

“Crashed as soon as his head hit the pillow.”

“So you want to talk now?” You look up at him.

“Umm, somewhere private though. Incase Mary wakes up,” he gets up, still connected to you by your fingers and pulls you alongside him. You pick up a discarded blanket along with you

“Okay. Where do you want to go?”

He walks you two out of the staff common room and you let him take the lead. Barton is cold even without all the large windows closed. It’s like walking through a haunted mansion, passing by old dusty trophy cases and pictures of past alumni. When you enter what you recognize to be the auditorium, thanks to the plaque next to the door, Angus strolls you two over to the stage. You sit on the piano bench and when he joins you, you cover him with your blanket.

You hear Angus let out a shaky breath and then see the winter air turn it into a small cloud of smoke.

Angus starts to speak, a tremble in his voice, “You’re the only person who thinks of me first know? Even when we were little, and we had a free pass to be totally self-centered you still never-. Like in middle school when you’d give me biology answers, or just now with the blanket! I have a jacket! I should be giving you the entire blanket. In fact, let me give you -, your just-.”

“It’s alright Angus,” you stop his rapid rambling, holding his face between your hands. “I already forgave you a long time ago.”

“Didn’t feel like it,” he chuckles, trying to divert his gaze but the soft hold you have on him keeps him still.

“I forgave you the second you walked in looking like a kicked puppy.”

He laughs at your words.

“Although I just want to ask what has been going on with you? I know you hate school and you're not incredibly fond of Stanely marrying your mom, but I feel like something has been bothering you. Something big.”

“I need to go to Boston Y/n,” he admits, hitting some random piano keys. The notes echo around the room.

“Okay,” you bite the inside of your cheek, “why?”

“It's snowing outside but it doesn’t feel like Christmas. But my dad, he would make it feel that way. So I need to see him and my mom had promised but you see how that turned out.”

“Oh Angus. This is why you kept bringing it up,” you gasp. “Jesus. And I had called you stupid, I’m the dense one for not connecting the dots.”

“No no. You’re not. I was being evasive. I guess I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I would have stolen Jason Smith's car keys had I known! We could be there by now, eating Clam Chowder by the bay. ”

“Nuh-uh. You’re way too of a goody-two shoe for that.”

“Well I would have followed you. Given an hour's notice, of course, to build my confidence.”

“I don't know,” Angus hits a few more keys, “Maybe this was fate like you said. It definitely didn’t deal me a cruel hand having me holdover here with you.”

“Yeah, the universe was certainly on our side for this one,” you move closer to him and put your head on his shoulder. “Hey, you think you can still play even with only one working hand?”

“I’m willing to try it,” he stretches his fingers, “What shall I serenade you with?”

“Something Beach Boys. In My Room?”

“You got it L/n.”

He plays much slower and his jaw is sharp, fully determined to get through the song for your enjoyment. He plays so gracefully you don’t even notice when he slips on occasion. You don’t mind it. It’s almost as sweet as a lullaby.

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #the holdovers

91 notes · View notes

intoanotherworld23 · 1 year

Text

Pick Your Battles

Pairing: Reader x Bradley Bradshaw

Warnings: None

Summary: Bradley broke your heart when he accused you of betraying him, and you haven’t seen or spoken to him since. Until you are both called back to Top Gun to help with a dangerous mission that nobody’s ever attempted before

I do not own the rights to these characters or any part of the movie this is simply for entertainment. I hope you guys enjoy this first part, and let me know what you guys think so far!! If you wish to be added to a tag list please don’t hesitate to ask and I’ll be more than happy to add you! Heart it! Reblog it! Enjoy it! XOXO

✨Please do not copy and paste or steal my work or take credit for this without my permission or you will be reported✨

Part 2

It's been too long since you've seen Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw and the thought of his reaction terrified you. Not knowing how he would feel about you returning to Fightertown. Once you got the letter asking you to return you knew without a doubt Bradley would be there. The two of you didn't end things well the last time you saw each other.

Telling him how you felt and his response was not at all what you thought. He suddenly became angry and upset with you. Slamming the door on the way out as you fell on the couch crying your eyes out. Everyone was worried about you after that, but nobody dared to bring his name up to you.

You've known Bradley since you guys were children. After all you were the daughter of Tom Kazansky aka 'Iceman'. Taking after him and becoming top of your class in Top Gun. Earning the call sign of 'Frostbite'. Also, becoming the only female pilot to have three confirmed air to air strike kills. Your father was a legend amongst pilots and you were becoming one now too.

After you and Bradley graduated it seemed like you two became a lot closer. Everyone could see it except for the two of you, until one day Bradley got upset you went on a date with some other guy. Seeing that side of him had you wanting him closer, and into your arms.

It confused you beyond all doubt since you two were just friends, but then it made you realize your true feelings for him. That's when you decided to confess how you felt about him, after a bottle of wine of course.

Now here you were sitting at the bar of the Hard Deck constantly looking back to seeing when he would come in. Sipping on your beer as you nervously looked around at all different kinds of colors laughing and playing pool or shooting darts.

Wondering if these were the pilots you would be training for this mission. Turning down their offer of leading this mission ever since the accident, and settling for being an instructor instead. Your father was not happy about your choice but understood why you did it. Not wanting to lead another mission where someone else dies.

"You okay hon?" Pennys sweet voice asked when she noticed you staring off into space.

"Oh yeah I'm just thinking." Snapping out of it to look at her. "Obviously too hard huh?"

"He's going to be glad to see you." She knew exactly what and who you were thinking about.

"Yeah right he'll walk through that door and see me and walk right out." Groaning at the image and feeling yourself become saddened at the thought.

"No he won't I bet you he'll see you and have that big smile on his face and give you a big Rooster hug." She smiled at you with reassurance making your lips quirk up. "He cares about you."

"Not enough to reach out to me." Shaking your head as you finished the rest of your drink.

"You could have done the same for him." Raising her eyebrows at you with that look of 'it works both ways'. "You two just need to talk."

Not saying anything you just looked at her watching as she went to go help other patrons. Trying to repeat her words in your head that he missed you just as much as you missed him. Although it would be hard for him to forget you confessing your feelings to him. You just don't let something like that be forgotten.

In the deep part of your mind you couldn't help but think he still was upset and would want nothing to do with you. Then the two of you would have to work on this mission ignoring each other, and acting like enemies.

"Y/N?" Instantly recognizing that voice making you turn around and break from your thoughts.

"Uncle Maverick." Exclaiming as you hopped off the stool to give him a hug. "It's so good to see you."

You've known Pete Mitchell ever since you were little, and he was also your Godfather. He was like family to you and whenever you couldn't go to your father you would go to him. He was proud of you when you graduated from Top Gun, reminded him of being with your father.

Of course you knew of the feud between him and Bradley, but you didn't actually know what it was about. All you know is Maverick did something so badly that he wanted nothing to do with him. Then one day Bradley called you screaming if you knew something about his papers being pulled which of course you didn't, but he didn't believe you and continued to yell at you.

It seems like Bradley will have not only one person he can't stand here.

"It's good to see you too." Pulling back so he could sit next to you waving at Penny a blush on her cheek. "How are you?"

"I'm good I'm good." Nodding your head as you looked at your hands on the bar top. It was a lie. "How about you?"

"Well I can't complain." He gave you a nudge making you playfully roll your eyes with a smile. "I'm assuming you got a letter as well."

"Yeah I did and I was asked to be the lead in it." Once he heard that his eyes went wide a huge smile on his face like a proud father.

"Well shit congratulations I'm happy of you." Clapping a hand on your back your face remained stoic.

"I turned it down." Stating to him before he could get anything else out. "I told them I wouldn't lead this mission."

"Why would you do that?" He asked too quickly and saw the look on your face before nodding. "I get it."

Only a few people knew about the accident including Pete, since your father didn't want it to be a public thing which you were kind of thankful for. Seeing as it traumatized you, and never wanting to ever relive that moment again. Not that you were trying to sweep it under the rug you just didn't want someone reminding you of that day.

All of a sudden you heard a bell ringing and both you and Maverick looked up in confusion. Penny standing there with a huge grin on her face as everyone whooped and hollered in joy. She pointed to a sign that said 'disrespect a woman or a pilot or place your phone on the bar top and you pay for a round'.

Looking down you saw Pete's phone on the bar top making your bend your head back in laughter. He just chuckled with a shake of his head as Penny was then bombarded with men and women at the bar.

"Way to go Uncle Mav." Patting him on the back as you continued to laugh. "I'll have another one Penny."

Handing you a bottle you saw a blonde haired man with thick arms in a khaki uniform that you very much recognized walk you up to the bar. His eyes looking at Pete and then shifted over to you a small smirk on his face.

"Four beers Penny please." Looking over to Pete briefly before grabbing his drinks handing them over.

"There ya go." Giving her wonderful smile the mans gaze still lingering on you.

"Thanks hon." He then looked back to Pete. "Thanks for the drinks pops." Giving a wink before he turned around walking back to the other pilots.

"I'll be right back." Hopping off the stool as you headed to the restroom glancing over at the blonde man to see his eyes on you.

The other three guys he was with all looked over to what he was looking at. You hated when people stared at you like that even if they didn't know who you were. Just wanting to keep your last name from being revealed to anybody for as long as possible.

Looking away you went into the bathroom stepping in front of the mirror placing your hands on either side of the sink. Staring at yourself asking yourself if you could really do this.

Could you handle the pressure of this mission? Could you handle being around someone that you love who doesn't feel the same? Starting to doubt yourself even more now, but reminding yourself of Penny's words.

Splashing cold water on your neck you gathered yourself quickly before heading out the door. Glancing around you noticed that name blonde haired man now standing in front of you. His eyes glanced you up and down taking in your torn jeans and white tank top.

"Hi there darlin." He said twirling a toothpick between his white teeth. "What's your name?"

Ah he clearly didn't recognize you and had no idea who you are then. Maybe you could have some fun with this.

"My names Y/N." His hand lifted up to grab yours in a shake you didn't bother to give him your last name since it would give away too much.

"The names Jake Seresin." Stating with such pride it almost made you roll your eyes. "Call sign Hangman."

"Hangman?" Repeating with a confused look on your face but he just smiled.

"You ever meet a pilot in person?" Shaking your head playing the stupid girl he probably thought you were.

"Well todays your lucky day sweetheart." He stepped closer to you this time. "I happen to be the best pilot there is."

This guy needed an ego check or something surprised his head hasn't exploded yet from thinking too highly of himself. Never the less you decided to go along with whatever game he was playing.

"Is that so?" Asking him crossing your arms over your chest his eyes glancing down briefly before smiling at you.

"Come join me and my fellow pilots." Placing his hand on your back leading you over to a group of khaki uniformed pilots playing pool.

"Guys this here is Y/N." He introduced you making everyone's eyes gaze over to you.

"Hi." Squeaking out like you were some shy little girl feeling utterly stupid.

"This is Coyote, Payback, Fanboy, Phoenix and Bob." Pointing to everyone each of them giving you a wave or smile.

These were probably all the pilots that you were going to help train on this mission. It absolutely terrified you how many lives you were potentially holding in your hands. A part of you feeling bad for not voicing who you actually were, but you didn't want the looks and questions who knew they would ask.

"Still bothering innocent women I see?" The girl Phoenix spoke up making everyone laugh.

"Couldn't help myself Phoenix." Pulling you closer to him making you a little bit uncomfortable. "She's a beautiful woman."

"Which doesn't make sense as to how you got her?" Fanboy joined in everyone nodding their heads in agreement.

"Yeah she doesn't know who you really are." Phoenix responded as she looked at you.

"Judging by the call sign I think I know everything I need to." Your voice ringing out making the others look at you with wide grins and laughter.

"Ouch darlin you hurt me." Placing a hand over his heart acting fake wounded.

"Besides I only go for real talented pilots." Your words had everyone's mouth wide open hollering.

Typically you were as tough as nails and always spoke your mind. In order to keep up this charade of being a normal person you kept your real personality down a few notches. Just wait until the next morning when they would see you, and you just couldn't wait for their reactions.

"I like her." Phoenix said and everyone nodded in agreement making you smile.

"Are you a pilot or?" Coyote asked once everyone quieted down.

Before you could respond your gaze wondered over to the front door watching as a couple people walked in. The person in front who you immediately recognized as Bradley. Wearing an old Hawaiian shirt with a white tank and faded blue jeans. A pair of aviators shielding you from his eyes.

He was a lot bigger the last time you saw him, and certainly looked better looking than the last time. Feeling yourself starting to drool as you looked him feeling like a creep for just staring at him. Thankfully he didn't even see you otherwise you would have been incredible embarrassed.

Something that was definitely different about him was the mustache he was rockin. He definitely didn't have that the last time you saw him, and you gotta admit he looked really good wearing it. He looked just like his dad which made you smile at the thought.

The butterflies in your stomach had you feel lightheaded and flustered. Your full attention was on him watching as he greeted a couple people before his gaze turned over to your group. Feeling your nerves get the better of you you tried shielding yourself from his view.

Not wanting to be seen as you saw him walking towards your group. He still hadn't seen you yet which you were thankful for. Maybe you could sneak away without being seen, and you could avoid the awkward conversation.

Shielding your face by Jake's side when he was literally just a few feet from you talking to the other pilots. Hearing his voice had your heart fluttering and you wanted nothing more than to say something and run into his arms.

"Bradshaw." Hangman greeted with a smirk making Bradley look over in your direction. "As I live in breathe."

"Hangman." He responded back with slight tone animosity making it known the two didn't exactly like each other. "You look... good."

"Oh I'm good I'm very good." His cocky tone was really starting to get to you feeling an arm wrap around your waist.

Quickly glancing your eyes over without moving your head watching him as he leaned against a pole placing his hands in front of him.

"Thought they wanted the best of the best." Bradley shot back at him making you smile into Jake's arm.

The pair just stared at each other like there was a silent war going on between them. The group looked between the two waiting for someone to speak first. Things were becoming too much for you and you just wanted to get out of there. Until you felt someone staring at you.

"Whose your victim tonight?" His words had your stomach drop feeling dread take over your body.

"This gorgeous girl is Y/N." Holding you to his side like you were some sort of prize. "She's never met a pilot in real life."

Keeping your face hidden hoping he wouldn't recognize you or act like he didn't know who you were. Glancing over you made immediate eye contact with him and you watched his lip twitch instantly recognizing you. His eyes looking to Hangman's arm around your waist making his hand ball into a fist.

You were still just as beautiful since he saw you last. Beating himself up for how he left things with you, and not telling you how he felt. Once he was told his papers were pulled he accused you of knowing and not saying anything to stop it to which he felt betrayed.

"Really?" He asked not taking his eyes off you his jaw clenching for multiple reasons.

"Figured if she were to meet a pilot it should be the best there is." He said cockily making your roll your eyes this time.

"But you aren't the best pilot." Bradley responded back making you and others chuckle. "She is."

Your eyes went wide not knowing who he was talking about maybe hoping he was talking about the other woman Phoenix instead. That wasn't the case though when you were completely unaware that he was pointing to you. Slowly moving your head to look at him his eyes solely on you.

He had this look on his face that would couldn't make out. Until you saw that look in his eye that told you he was about to blow your cover. Please Bradley don't you mouthed to him, and he just smirked.

"Yeah right and I'm Superman." Hangman joked not noticing how you were now frozen in place.

"God your such an idiot Hangman." At first you didn't know who he was talking to. "You clearly don't know who this is do you?"

Feeling everyone look over at you as you continued to stare at him shaking your head at him begging him not to tell. Judging by the look on his face you knew what he was about to do to you.

Your breathing was becoming very heavy and shallow. The air in your lungs was becoming restricted and you could feel your palms sweating waiting for him to spill the beans. The glancing from you to Bradley waiting in anticipation.

"What are you talking about?" Phoenix spoke up as Jake continued to stare at him a confused look on his face.

"Who is she?" Someone else said but you didn't know who.

"Your little date over there is a pilot herself." Jake snapped his head down to look at you an angry look on your face.

"Her names Y/N Kazansky daughter of Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky." Soon as they heard your last name some of them gasped or their eyes went wide in shock. "Call sign 'Frostbite."

"Holy shit." Hearing someone say as you now felt all eyes on you, but your focus was on the man with the mustache glaring at him feeling like steam was coming off your body.

"You two know each other then?" Bob asked really speaking for the first time that night.

"Unfortunately." His words had you wincing and your heart slowly breaking at how horribly he was treating you.

Once Bradley saw your reaction he felt bad but he couldn't take them back. A part of him wanted to walk up to you and hold you and tell you he was sorry he knew it wouldn't fix everything. Even though the group was going to find out eventually you wanted it to be on your terms, and not through Bradley who did it out of spite and possibly hatred.

Before anyone else could say anything you tore yourself away from the group, and practically zoomed out of there. Feeling a tear running down your cheek Penny watching with concern making Maverick turn around to look as well.

One things for sure that you know now. Bradley Bradshaw hates you.

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