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mikeystrawberry · 3 months

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Today is Dungeons & Daddies’s 5th Anniversary!

I haven’t been listening for nearly that long but the podcast and all its characters means a lot to me. Happy Anniversary!!!

Throwing the cropped sections under the cut because there’s a lot of stuff going on and I know Tumblr likes to throw half the pixel quality out the window. And also so I can ramble a bit about this piece!!!

This piece has been months in the making, possibly an entire year. And by that I mean I’ve had a sketch of the comp scribbled on my whiteboard for ages because I wanted to save this specifically for 5th anni art. Now onto design stuff!

(First off a random thought: I really love how the garlic knot came out, I kind of want it as an enamel pin.)

I knew I wanted to make this a stained glass piece since the beginning, but I was also going to add flowers at one point but quickly dropped the idea. It felt like too much and I also didn’t want to fuss over flower language assignments for everyone. I was also going to add Doodler tentacles, but also dropped that idea pretty early. Kind of on accident, right at the end, I figured out how to make it even more stained glass-like but taking a duplicated lineart underneath the regular layer and turning the brightness all the way down, then setting it to overlay and adding a guassian blur. It’s very subtle but it adds that tiny bit of depth that makes it look more real. As for shading on the lineart/gold, I tried adding more highlight on the characters who died but once I evened everything out it wasn’t as noticeable anymore so I’m throwing that thought here so the attempt at least known lol.

The order of characters only changed a little bit from my original comp, I flipped the Wilsons and the Oaks so the rainbow could work. As for the anchors, specifically in season 2, I lined them up to the teens since the season 1 anchors lined up with each dad:

Tony —> Scary: his death was the beginning of Scary’s betrayal arc and also Willy killed him.

Guitar Pick —> Taylor: it’s not really aligned with Taylor at all, but the anchor was with Glenn so I put it next to his blunt.

Scroll —> Normal: was only because it was the last left to give him, but there’s the whole scene of him and Hermie in the Green Room so it still works!

Garlic Knot —> Link: one of two that he broke, but the more significant of the two with him telling Grant he never wants to see him again.

Small notes on the season 1 anchors: I put the layer of mold in the overnight oats but you can’t really tell with the overlay. And to make the supper bowl more interesting I added the fantasy sodas mix they dumped into it. The lure of actually drawn before so I just traced my own art lol.

As for the other smaller triangles, it took me a bit to figure out what I wanted to put there. I didn’t even think of adding the vehicles until two days ago but I’m so glad I did. I don’t really have my own take on the mascot version of the Doodler (yet?) so I borrowed the design from one of the stickers in their merch shop. Teeny was terrifying as just a front facing head so I made him cute again.

In the outer circles, I put what I felt was the most significant quotes for each family. I really wanted to use “It’s okay to be angry, it’s not okay to be cruel” but it was just a little too long.

That’s all I can think of! If you read all the way through, thank you for indulging me in my excitement to gush over this piece.

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nomercyanywhere · 5 months

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older stepbro sukuna and little bro you

ーーーーー

knowing him for years now you shouldn't be surprised by the amount of times he's left his used underwear in your room, but for the love of you god, you just cannot

"oh for fuck sake!" you yelled, stormed out of your room and into his. your greeted by him having no shirt on and wearing only grey sweatpants that hugged loosely around his waist. sat on his beanbag playing video games while munching on chips. "how many goddamn times do i have to tell you to quit leaving your nasty boxers in my room?!" you scold him again and again but he just yawns then looks at you with an annoyed expression. he got up, then walked towards you, he leaned against the door frame and grabs his undies from your hand. "wanna tell me why you have this? hm?" no. he was just teasing you at this point. "me?! you're the one who-! " you get cut off by him "no fuckin way, it's wet, were you touching yourself? on MY boxers? your brothers? pfft- you fucking pervert~!" he laughed at your face, all confused and irritated. "hah?! i did NOT!-" despite your yells, he continues laughing. you grit your teeth and slammed the door shut.

now, you're sure you don't steal them away from it, you've even seen him throw it in your room on purpose. but, you did secretly fuck yourself to the scent of it..

ugh, you plop onto the bed and thick blankets. trying your best to calm down, looking back at what happened, you noticed that he wasn't wearing any underwearbunder those pants. the outline of his cock was way too distinct. you could even see a vein. you wanted to touch it, rub it, shove your own face into his crotch and you hate yourself for thinking about scenarios like those. the anger you once had turned into you getting pent up, squeezing your legs together, and a visible wet patch on your cute undies. "i fucking hate this.." you whispered to yourself and started to pull your undies down.

kuna always barges in your room, locked or unlocked, he did it once and your lock broke. speaking of, it hasn't been fixed yet, leaving you vulnerable to his unwanted inviting himself in.

he was feeling a bit playful. so who to play with other than his cute brother? he smirked at the thought of it, then walked to your room.. your fingers play with your clit, pressing on it gently, flicking etc. as soft as your fingers were, you wanted to feel his calloused, thicker and longer one on your cunt. you bit your lip to suppress any sounds, and tried real hard to get off, the familiar sensation on your tummy when your about to cum keeps dissappearing when your near orgasming, causing you to start over again. you were so lost in it that "you're so bad this." you didn't notice him entering your room. you jolt at the sudden sound of his voice and immediatelym closed your legs. "what the fuck?! get out!" you threw your blanket over yourself and threw a pillow him, which he dodges easily. "why? you looked so cute trying so hard to cum" he scoffs at your laughable attempt at masturbating. he crawled on your bed "c'mon, i just wanna help my~" pulling the duvet away and slid his hand up your smooth thig "poor, desperate, adorable little brother~". he grabs both your legs, "spread em" you clicked your tongue and looked away, slowly spreading your legs open.

after that, you'd always come to him whenever you feel horny and needy.

"heh, who knew, i'd ever see you bouncing on my cock." up and down you went, dirtying his lap with pre. your hands on his abs for stability. but something else felt missing, like, you wouldn't be able to focus with out it. you look up at him, then tugged on the controller. "mn.. pay attention to me.." you whined. it was attention, you wanted him to look at you and you only. "hm? acting a little slutty bro~" he puts down the controller and turns the tv off. "and here i thought you hated me" he places both hands on your hips, they traveled to your ass, he groped and squeezed.

ーーーーー

a/n: tumblr, if u allow pseudocest with f reader. u should allow it with m reader too. also, a bit lots of typos i think? i wrote this while sleepy lmfao

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #jjk smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna thirst #sukuna smut #ftm reader #m! reader #male reader #nomercyanywhereliterature

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kaionyx · 2 months

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Ever since tumblr made me into a dog dom, marking someone with my scent without them knowing it has been heavy on my mind.

Stalking and sneaking through a pretty bunny’s window when they so stupidity left it open for someone like me to come in and violate their pretty holes. Covering their precious body with bruises and bites as a reminder for the next day while rutting load after load into whichever little hole I mold around my cock first. Their face held down in their pillows the whole time so the only thing they have to hold onto is my smell when they’re fighting to get any type of air.

This happens night and night again, each time making them more desperate and eager to feel my weight against them when night comes until I just stop showing up one day. They try to forget and play it off as nothing as time passes until they happen to catch my scent walking one day. It would be so cute to see how fast their little body would turn and follow me into some alley without second thought. Watching how easily their dumb mind switches off when I pull them by their hair and pin them to the wall with my scent surrounding them again, eyes all dazed and not a single thought behind them.

Seeing them almost stupidly finding comfort in it while begging so pathetically to be used again, I just have to throw them over my shoulder and take them home with me as my personal little breeding bitch to break in.

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estrellami-1 · 10 months

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If I Should Stay

Holy shit, y’all are insane. My tag list is over a HUNDRED (wtf y’all I’m kissing every single one of you on the forehead it was EIGHT before this) and the first part got over 800 notes in 24 hours. I love y’all 😂 With that being said though, Tumblr only allows for 50 mentions per post. So I’m drafting another post with the other 50-odd mentions that I’ll link this to. Unfortunately I’m not willing to make more than two posts, meaning my tag list is officially CLOSED. I’m so sorry, y’all, please know I love every single one of you SO much!! If you’d like to follow along and didn’t make it onto the taglist, go ahead and follow the ‘#if I should stay’ tag. I’ll make sure to use this tag for every update! Thank you all SO SO MUCH!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ and if you want to be dropped from the taglist, that’s fine too; just let me know! ❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Steve is terrified.

Honestly, after the Russians and the Upside Down and everything else, Steve thought he’d never be scared again.

Then he woke up in school in 1984.

He looks around, wide-eyed, only to stop when Tommy and Carol look at him weirdly. “Uh, Steve?” Carol asks. “You look like you’re about to puke.”

Full of tact, just like always. He shakes off the feeling of wrong crawling on his skin and smiles at her. “I’m fine,” he says, when nothing could be further from the truth.

She opens her mouth to respond. Steve breathes a sigh of relief when the bell goes off, only for him to realize he has no idea where he’s going.

Thank God for Carol, apparently, because she throws her head back with a groan. “Math,” she complains. “I hate math.”

Steve feels a zing of recognition dart through him. He had English while she was in math. They used to complain about it between classes.

He feels excited when he realizes Robin will be in this class, then just as suddenly excitement turns to nausea when he realizes she might not remember him.

He walks into class, trying to keep his hopes down, and briefly makes eye contact with her.

She’s doodling in a notebook, looking around the room. Their eyes meet.

Robin’s pencil lead snaps.

Steve freezes.

He opens his mouth, he’s not sure for what, but she shakes her head slightly.

She stands and makes her way towards him before her eyes flutter back in her head and she drops.

She would’ve fallen on the ground if he hadn’t caught her. Whispers start up, enough to get the teacher to look up. “Mr. Harrington,” she says. “I’m not sure what dance moves you think you’re trying, but I will remind you this is an English classroom.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says. “Um. She passed out. I think I should probably take her to the nurse.”

She leans over her desk to peer first at Steve, then at Robin, who still has her eyes closed. “Very well,” she says. “I’ll give you a hall pass. Please ensure she returns once her little spell has worn off.”

He nods, shifts Robin completely into his arms, and walks out of the classroom.

He walks down the hallway and stops by an empty classroom, darting in when nobody’s looking. “Robs,” he chokes, and her arms are around his neck and now he’s choking for an entirely different reason.

She’s shaking, and he feels hot tears land on his shoulder, and he knows she feels the same from his tears. “I thought-”

“I know,” Steve whispers. “I thought the same. I woke up and I was with Tommy and Carol again and I didn’t know what was going on and I was terrified you weren’t gonna remember me.”

“Jesus,” she says. She’s laughing a little, through her tears. “Imagine how I felt, waking up in Mrs. Click’s class. Thought I’d had a weird fever dream. Then you walked in, and…”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Jesus, Robs, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Right back atcha, Dingus,” she whispers, which really just makes his tears start all over again. “Who else do you think knows?”

Steve sighs. “I don’t know. And other than asking them, and risking getting sent to a padded room…”

“Yeah.” Robin sighs.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve says, tensing up.

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m still with Nancy.”

I tried to tag everyone who wanted it… I’m so sorry if I missed you! Once again I’m so sorry about closing the taglist. Thank you for understanding! ❤️

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @local-writers-corner @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

@paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @little-gae-shit

Me @ all of you:

#if I should stay #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #platonic stobin #robin buckley #we gonna see Nancy pretty soon here #also Jonathan #maybe #also I have no idea how the timeline works #starambles

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glitterjay · 7 months

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ー manspreading

minors DNI

jay x fem!reader

warnings pet names (darling, baby and such), humping, a few cuss words lmk if i missed any other thing

it was a normal saturday night. the movie dates that started off as a thought from bored-ness became a habit. jay was sitting on the couch, browsing through netflix with a bored expression on his face. just as you walked into the living room, the sight in front of you made your knees weak. there he was, manspreading on the sofa, his dick visible from the thin sweatpants he was wearing.

this drove you crazy. just how spacious his lap was. it was like an open invitation to sit there, and so, you did. he didn’t take this as something weird, as you often cuddled like this. a random movie was on, and you both enjoyed the closeness of each other.

it was until the night progressed that you started feeling needy. jay kept innocently rubbing your lower abdomen with his thumbs, and it made you close your eyes every time. the feeling of his hands being close, but not quite where you needed them drove you to madness.

your hips started moving on their own in circles, not being able to hold still anymore. to your surprise, your boyfriend didn’t react. in fact, he moved his hands from your stomach to your hips, pushing you down more, and adding pressure to your heat. “someone’s being naughty, i see”.

you couldn’t help but let out a tiny whimper. jay moved his hips along yours, adding even more friction than before. “fuck baby, you’re moving so right”. his words made their way to your cunt, which was throbbing and clenching onto nothing, screaming for more action.

seeing your pace become sloppy, jay took actions into his own hands. he made you get and turn around, sitting you back on his lap. both of your legs on his sides, startling his fully clothed cock. first he left soft and wet kisses along your jawline, going down your neck, and sucking the sensitive skin on your chest.

your hands found their way to his shoulder for support, as you kept grinding on him. the sighs and whimpers that came out of you were music to his ears. he bucked his hips up, sending an electric feeling throughout your entire body. “mmgh! d-do that again”.

your wish was his command. he kept doing what was asked, as his hands roamed around your body. “you look so sexy all worked up, grinding on my cock like that”. he bucked his hips up harder. “ah!” “all those pretty noises just for me”

his hands found the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and throwing it god knows where. his dick twitched when he saw you were wearing nothing underneath. “was this what you wanted this entire time, darling?” you nod frantically, not making up exactly what he said, your mind being fuzzy due to all the things you’re feeling at once.

jay’s mouth found its way to your chest, nibbling and playing with your skin. it was just enough to send you over the edge. you threw your head back, still holding onto his shoulders. the sight before him could’ve made him cum right there and then, and so, he took your hips into his hands, pressing you down hard as he bucked his hips up.

your sensitive bud was in pain. but i was a good type of pain. the overstimulation made you scream at any type of contact. “you’re doing so- mmgh! so amazing baby”. a last groan was heard as he bucked his hips up again, making you claw your nails on his hair, pulling it as a reaction to a second orgasm just as he reached his.

“maybe saturdays should be like this from now on”.

hellooo, it’s me again <3 i know im still behind so bare with me. in the mean time, enjoy day 2 of kinktober with enhypen! feel free to leave any ideas in my ask, anonymously or not, anything is accepted (again, minors dni). lmk what you think of this! i need motivation </3

#— ✿ c's work!#kpop #hard hours #kpop hard hours #kpop smut #enhypen #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen smut #park jay #park jongseong #enhypen jay #jay smut #enhypen jay smut

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will1ams0n · 8 months

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Tease - Leah Williamson

Summary - On holiday in Ibiza with your GF Leah Williamson and some friends. You have needs, and she wants to make your day as uncomfortable as possible…

Warning - Leah Williamson being an actual tease, sexual tension, sexual references, beginner tumblr writer post…

———

You knew she knew what she was doing, and you knew that she was aware that you knew she knew. She’d been teasing you from first thing this morning.

The sun had woken you softly, coming through the open curtains as you lay next to your girlfriend who was only in boxers and a sports bra due to the heat, you however forever liking the comfort of pyjamas were in an old Arsenal training vest of hers and some old shorts. Her arm was haphazardly flung over your waist, and our legs were entwined. It was hot though, incredibly hot. The weather, as well as the sexual tension of the position whenever she’d shift her leg.

You wanted to free yourself from her grasp, longing for a cold shower to clear your mind of the racing thoughts, as well as to try and lower your temperature. You were going out today to a late breakfast with some friends, before heading to the beach together, and lastly getting hammered at a club, mostly just enjoying the time off from football and any other working commitments.

As you tried to untangle yourself her grip fastened and she pulled you back into her. Your bodies once again fitting together perfectly. You should have known she was already awake, she loved to enjoy morning cuddles. But also the ever shifting leg position should have given it away, she was teasing you.

“No” her voice said lowly, nuzzling into your neck before peppering kisses there. “Stay” she commanded and you just giggled at the feeling of her breath on your neck. She was a softy when she wanted to be, as hard as she tried to present herself, she was whipped for you. A total simp. And you loved every minute of it.

“Baby, we need to get up. Keira and Alex will be waiting for us” I said, turning around and pushing myself up onto my elbows and leaning over her. The heat of Ibiza had gotten to her also, and parts of her gorgeous blonde hair had stuck to her slightly sweaty face so I pushed them away, before kissing her briefly, watching her eyes flutter close,

“You don’t look too bad on the top you know” she just smirked in response, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of mischief and lust, I rolled my eyes laughing slightly, before she wrapped one leg around my waist and flipped us over. Her now hovering over me. The mischief gone from her eyes, only lust remaining. “But you look so much better under me” she whispers into my ear as she started her assault on my neck.

“Fuck. Le-“ I started before I got caught off by a moan escaping from my throat, and I involuntarily grabbed the back of her head, keeping her close, not wanting her to stop, but knowing in my mind we shouldn’t be starting something that we didn’t have time to finish.

Leah on the other hand was not phased, and did certainly not seem worried about the jam packed day as her hand trailed up my leg, and under my shirt before reaching their intended destination. My breath hitching as her hand brushed over my breasts.

“Baby, please” I moaned out, grabbed her face in my hands and pulling her lips onto mine in a passionate kiss. Expressing everything I want to say and ask her to do to me in it.

I shut my eyes, throwing my head back ever so slightly, and pulling her face back so she could continue her assault on my neck, when I felt her knee come into contact with my core, she shifted a few times, causing silent gasps to fall my mouth, I wanted more. I needed more. But before I could do anything about it she’d jumped off of me and was stretching widely. Letting out a huge yawn.

Now my eyes shot to the smug looking blonde who was ignoring my glare on her back as she chose her outfit for the day, as if nothing had happened, as if she was totally innocent.

“What you thinking baby” she asked turning around, showing me her black bikini, that would not cover enough skin to help my ever growing need for her touch, her taunting tone was clear,

“I’m thinking why the fuck did you stop?” I huffed, sitting up and shuffling towards her to sit at the end of the bed and she walked in between my legs, using her finger to lift my my chin,

“Because a beautiful woman reminded me that we couldn’t be late for our friends this morning” she smirked, pecking me quickly, before admiring my flushed face and lust filled eyes, “you might want to take a cold shower though” she winked, before heading back to look through her clothes. Damn her, and damn me for mentioning rushing this morning.

I grumbled, muttering complaints and annoyances at the blonde as I got up, to which she only chuckled and made the bed whilst I headed through to the shower. The coldness was refreshing at least, it was calming, however the blonde that came into the bathroom half way through, and checked me out was not. She clearly enjoyed stripping and putting on her bikini right in front of, her eyes on mine, and it did absolutely nothing to the butterflies in my lower half.

“Baby please, stop this” I whined at her, and she just laughed leaving the room. Today was going to be a long day.

———

Feedback is appreciated. I don’t know how to do the ask thingy haha, and how you guys could beat communicate with me. I’m learning haha. I managed to create a master list. I was very proud of that achievement to be honest haha. Again thank you for baring with me whilst I learn.

#leah williamson #woso #woso one shot #woso fanfics #leah williamson fluff #leah williamson x reader #Leah Williamson smut #engwnt x reader

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jflemings · 26 days

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— run

pairing: kyra cooney cross x reader

synopsis: you and kyra continue to love eachother in secret

warnings: none

a/n: i had this fic pretty much finished before tumblr DELETED it i’m so pissed

♫ what’s queued masterlist

Give me the keys, I'll bring the car back around

We shouldn't be in this town

pelting rain outlines kyra’s silhouette as she jogs down the street to your car. one hand holds her hood on top of her head whilst the other is tucked in her pocket in an effort to fend off the biting cold.

your headlights illuminate her as she gets close, giving you a full view of her cold-bitten face and slightly shivering form. as she approaches your passenger door you quickly open it for her and she slides in easily before hastily closing the door behind her. she peels off her rain-soaked hoodie and throws it in your backseat, reaching behind you to grab her green white fox hoodie she had thrown back there one afternoon.

“sorry, i couldn’t get away from them” she apologised with an annoyed pout “caitlin wouldn’t let me leave without asking a million questions”

you smirk and begin to drive whilst turning up the heat and pressing play on your shared playlist. as you pass beth and viv’s place you see multiple shadows crowding the window, the arsenal women practically on top of eachother trying to get a look at where kyra was rushing of to.

the midfielder beside you ducks her head down and sinks down in her seat “don’t let them see me” she mumbles

you pat her thigh and laugh “don’t worry ky, i’m sure they didn’t see you just slide down in your seat” you tease with a laugh.

she pouts again and furrows her brows “they’re all so nosy! i couldn’t get away quick enough”

“they’re just curious kyra” you half heartedly defend “it’s not like you’re subtle”

kyra holds her hands in front of the heat in an attempt to warm them up faster, the quick change in temperature making a shiver run down her spine “i’m subtle!” she argues “they wouldn’t even think anything is different if leah hadn’t loudly announced that she thought i was secretly seeing someone”

you let your head fall back against your seat as you come to a stop at a red light “you didn’t help your case by going bright red”

“i didn’t mean to!”

you can’t help but laugh at her exasperated expression. the thought of her club teammates finally knowing about you let loose a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, the nervousness almost being too thick to swallow.

“it’s okay ky” you assure softly “it was bound to happen”

“you’re not mad?” she asks shyly

you turn to her and place your hand on the bottom of her jaw, half on her neck. your thumb caresses her freckled cheek slowly “no i’m not mad”

she takes your hand off her neck and kisses your knuckles delicately, her lips softly touching each of them before she joins your hands and places them on her thigh. kyra hums contentedly and faces you “sorry for the hassle”

“no hassle at all. i get to have you to myself for a few days, i’m as happy as can be” you squeeze her hand twice “and we’re long overdue for a small getaway”

And my so-called friends, they don't know

I'd drive away before I let you go

“you just don’t know her like i do”

you best friend rolls her eyes from where she’s sitting on her bed “you said that about the last girl you dated and we know how that turned out”

you furrow your brows “that’s not fair” you defend pointedly, your blood beginning to boil at the thought of kyra being compared to her.

“she won’t introduce you to her friends and you won’t let us meet her! for all we know she’s a bitch who’s just gonna fuck you over” she throws her hands out slightly “all i’m asking is for you to hear me out”

“and all i’m asking is for you to understand that kyra isn’t like that” you huff, beginning to grab your things “it’s not fair that you compare my past relationship to her when you don’t know anything”

your friend kicks her legs out and flips down onto her bed, sighing deeply as she puts her hand behind her head “i’m looking out for you, i know how you get with relationships.”

the low blow comment is your tipping point. you can’t tell if you’re angry because she’s right or because she’s voicing her opinion on something she knows absolutely nothing about.

it was true, kyra wouldn’t introduce you to her friends, but her reasoning had always been that she’s selfish. she’s so selfish that she doesn’t want to share any of you with anyone, not even steph or caitlin or lessi, kyra wants you all to herself. you didn’t even know if they knew you existed but you didn’t really care because the australian had completely encapsulated your mind and overtaken your body. she had wrapped herself around you like plated gold, made you shiny and new and worth something. at least in your eyes.

wordlessly you stand, takeaway coffee cup in hand, and push your seat in loudly. her eyes follow you as your chest rises and falls with frustration, confusion painted on her features.

“i love kyra, and she has proven that she loves me. that should be enough for you because it’s enough for me” you spit, turning on your heel without anymore argument and walking yourself out to your car.

There's a chain 'round your throat, piece of paper where I wrote

"I'll wait for you"

kyra unclasps the dainty, gold heart locket around her neck. she fiddles with it for a moment, making sure that it doesn’t tangle, before placing it down in her cubby safely. it twinkles under the bright light of the change rooms and for a moment, the small piece of jewellery has all her attention.

she smiles when she thinks about what’s hidden inside the locket. the small photo of the two of you and an even smaller note you left for her before the last international break.

i’ll wait for you was written in your handwriting and kept around her neck, the words being an unspoken declaration of your love.

you had slipped the paper in there the night before she had to jet off to play uzbekistan when she was at the height of her uneasiness regarding your blossoming relationship. guilt had sunk it’s teeth into kyra when charli had made a harmless joke about her sneaking around with someone and just being too embarrassed to tell anyone about it. her mind had raced and wondered if you felt the same, wondered if you thought that she was embarrassed by you.

in the bright moonlight your eyes had shone and she had expressed to you that it wasn’t embarrassment that was keeping her from publicly being with you, it was selfishness and fear. she had choked through the words and fought back tears as she explained and you, in all your angel-like glory, had just softly put a hand on her face and smiled understandingly.

you then tore off the corner of a page from your journal and wrote those four words, handing it to kyra “put this in your locket, so you’ll always know” you whispered to her softly.

she looked at you curiously, her tired eyes conveying confusion before realisation dawns on her. she sits up and opens the locket around her throat, slipping in the message before securing it with a small, almost mute click.

she smiles at the memory, getting lost in the moment just as victoria stands next to her. vic knocks their shoulders together affectionately “that’s a really pretty necklace” she compliments

kyra nods gratefully “thanks, it’s my good luck charm”

“from your mum?” vic asks curiously “i noticed you wearing it after christmas”

“no” kyra says quietly “just from a friend”

the dutch woman nods and smiles secretly like she knows something no one else does “i’d love to meet this friend, if i could”

kyra begs to blush before wiping her face with the collar of her shirt “i’ll, um, i’ll talk to her. she’d love to meet you too” the australian smiles softly, mimicking her friend’s earlier affectionate gesture and knocking their shoulders together again.

So you laugh like a child

And I'll sing like no one cares

kyra lifts the conti cup trophy with her teammates, the australian flag draped over her shoulders flutters with her movements as she bounds around with alessia.

she’s thrown her head back in a joyous laugh and points out to the singing crowd, north london forever echoing off the stands and into the sky. you sit surrounded by a sea of red and white, the passion and love that’s held for this club blooming more and more in your chest the louder you sing.

seeing the young woman you love so full of joy and pride makes your heart swell and burst over and over again. winning a piece of silverware during her first wsl season had been a topic that you two had spoken about during the late hours of the night after she’d let you know her fears of not performing well. the pressure had been crushing her from the minute she debuted, the australian midfielder had been desperate to live up to her world cup performance and she vowed that every minute she got on the pitch would be impactful and meaningful.

her hard work and determination had payed off. the fear, anxiety and unease had finally lifted off of kyra’s chest and mind and now she was lifting a trophy.

in the midst of the chaos she finds you wearing one of her worn jerseys and singing your little heart out. she can’t help but smile as she jogs over to you and jumps into your arms as best she can, her breath fanning over the shell of your ear as she speaks directly into it

“my good luck charm” she whispers before pulling away from you grinning wide “thank you for being here”

“there’s no where else i’d rather be” you assure her with a soft smile, your eyes scanning her flushed freckled face lovingly. your hands move from her shoulder blades to her collarbones, fingertips slipping under her shirt slightly “i love you” you whisper to her.

a blush creeps over kyra’s face and she looks down shyly “i love you too” she murmurs back to you, quickly looking over her shoulder before looking into your eyes “dinner tonight?”

“your place” you nod before pushing her back towards the pitch and her awaiting teammates. she smiles cheekily at you before turning around and running back to her beloved teammates, your smile playing on her mind.

There's a heart on your sleeve

I'll take it when I leave

And hold it for you

kyra traces over the heart tattoo on your bicep, her finger outlining the shape delicately over and over again. she knows she should really be getting up but the sight of you laying on your stomach tucked under her covers leaves her wanting to stay where she is for just a little longer.

your eyes flutter open gently and you stir slightly, snuggling yourself further into kyra’s side and soft sheets “coffee?” you rasp out

“in a little bit” the midfielder responds “i want to stay here with you for as long as i can”

humming, you pull the covers tightly over both of your shoulders in a cocoon-like fashion, the comforter creating a barrier between you and the outside world. kyra continues to trace the heart etched into your arm, her mindless outlining lulling her into a dazed trance.

“i love you” she mumbles into her sheets before slowly sitting up. she throws one leg over the edge of the bed whilst the other stays half crossed, her shoulders sag and she rubs her hands over her face before turning on the bedside lamp.

“say it again” you instruct her, loving the way the words easily roll off her tongue

she tiredly smirks at you and leans down, tucking her chin in the crook of your neck. her hair tickles your ears as she snuggles against you “i love you” she murmurs into your neck, her lips pressing feather light kisses to your warm skin.

pushing yourself up off the bed, you too sit up momentarily before sliding off of kyra’s bed. you hold your hands out to her “c’mon stargirl, coffee time”

the australian pouts but takes your hands anyway, allowing you to pull her up and into you. she continues to wear a slight frown even as you go to walk out of her room and she digs her heels into the floor, stopping you in your tracks.

“what?”

“you didn’t say it back”

you smile endearingly at her “i love you too” using your interlocked hands you drag her back into your space, smiling when her hand subconsciously lands on your heart tattoo. your lips ghost hers “so much”

kyra closes the gap, capturing your lips with hers in a time stopping moment. when she pulls away from you her freckled cheeks are dusted pink, a common occurrence when she’s around you, and he’s wearing a dopey grin on her face despite the early morning.

“you’ve gotta get your shit together because steph will have your ass if you’re late to the airport”

“ruining the moment!”

Say you'll never let 'em tear us apart

And I'll hold onto you while we run

kyra slumps down in her seat, kicking her legs out in front of her as she buries her face in her phone.

it was your day off meaning that after kyra had finally left for the airport — much to her dismay — you had returned to the sanctuary that was her bed. with the knowledge that you’re tucked under her covers without her there, she frowns and huffs without thinking.

caitlin knocks her foot against kyra’s “what’s up your ass”

kyra’s head snaps to her teammate “nothing” she grumbles “just wanna go back to bed”

“leave the missus at home, did you?”

kyra freezes and she doesn’t dare look anywhere but her phone. the midfielder’s heart is beating out of her chest and she feels like she can’t breathe. caitlin sits awaiting an answer in her peripheral vision, an infuriating smirk that says ‘i knew it’ is planted on her face along with her ultra-lax aura that says she really doesn’t care even though kyra knows that this topic of conversation has been bugging her for months now.

“yes” she clips “she’s in bed all snuggled up and i’m sitting in an airport with you, so, i guess that’s what’s up my ass” kyra states bluntly

caitlin’s eyes damn near pop out of her head, the answer and the manner in which it was said surprising her “snippy” she mumbles amused “when can we meet her?”

“when i’m sure you’re not going to scare her off”

the forward rolls her eyes “if she’s been with you for this long then i highly doubt i’m going to be able to scare her off” she says, picking at her chipped nails “but i gotta make sure you’re not wearing rose coloured glasses ‘n all that”

kyra huffs and allows her phone to fall flat on her chest. she adjusts her position so her voice is clearer “i love you” she starts, gaining caitlin’s attention “but i also love her. and as much as i respect you, your opinion isn’t going to change that.”

a face splitting grin overtakes caitlin’s face, her blue eyes shining with pride as she looks at kyra. she reaches over and pats her thigh lovingly “good” she says shortly “that’s all that matters to me”

and we'll run

#Spotify #pegs writes #pegs woso #woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #pegs tillies #matildas x reader #kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross fic #kyra cooney cross imagine #arsenal #auswnt

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uglypastels · 7 months

Note

okok I've had this idea brewing in my filthy mind for a few days so imagine sanji discovering camgirl! Strawhat reader and becomes kinda obsessed?? Maybe one day she wears something of his(maybe a ring or his shirt) live and he goes absolutely feral and has his way with her??😵😵💫

I took out the camgirl aspect because I just wasn't sure how to incorporate it into the universe?? (I'm still new to it, so trying to figure out the dos and don'ts haha.) but I hope it's still good.

masterlist | inbox - requests open

reminder that reblogs and comments are the best way to support writers on Tumblr

warning: 18+ content. MDNI. simp sanji. masturbation. suggestive language and actions. light biting.

Laundry Day.

'Can someone remind me again whose brilliant idea it was to fight the giant squid?' You looked down at yourself, stiff as a board, as you felt every inch of your body to be sticky with black ink.

When you looked up again, the rest of the crew had all found a sudden interest in the most mundane parts of the ship, not daring to meet your deadly glare.

'Thought so,' you mumbled. 'I'm gonna go change.' Awkwardly, you made your way downstairs to the bathroom to try and wash off the black goo the sea monster had spewed onto you. You scrubbed for what felt like an hour, with the stains just never seeming to seize. The water poured down your body, slowly turning from a black abyss into a drabby grey until it finally recovered to its natural clear state, and the smell of fish was exchanged for your hair conditioner and body scrub.

stupid. fucking. squid. You kicked around your thoughts as you got out of the shower, nearly falling over in the process.

Too tired to cross the ship to your room, you instead walked to the small laundry cabin that was next to the bathroom and picked up the first pair of shorts you found and a button-up shirt to throw on.

You had thought it was one of yours, always being fond of having some larger piece of attire to throw over a short sleeve, but you soon realised your mistake when you entered the kitchen.

Sanji was in the middle of setting some water to boil, glancing up at you from his work with a soft smile. That smile then quickly froze in what you could only describe as a shock.

'I know I look like a mess,' you sighed, reaching over to the cupboard where the crew kept their hardest liquor. The day just called for a shot. Or three.

'Not the words I would use.' Sanji said, the clicking of the gas stove intercepting him, 'Is that- is that my shirt?'

You glanced down, noticing the blue striped pattern on the material and the actual tailoring of the shirt as opposed to the ones you were used to wearing.

You cursed under your breath. 'Sorry. I'll go change.' You began unrolling the sleeves, already seeing how they started to crease.

'No,' Sanji coughed out. 'It's fine. Honestly.'

'You sure?' You looked up at him apprehensively, but he just shrugged and continued on cooking.

You poured yourself a drink and made yourself comfortable opposite Sanji, enjoying the show that was his meal prep.

'Where's everyone else?' you asked as he began chopping up vegetables.

'Uhm, probably sleeping off the squid,' he chuckled, focused on the ingredients. As he kept going, you realised his answers kept getting shorter and shorter with each question. What usually would be full of quips and flirtatious remarks was cut down, blunt, like the edge of a dull knife.

And at first you had brushed it aside as him concentrating on his craft, but the longer he cooked, the more noticeable it was how he avoided your gaze. Even when talking, he didn't dare look up.

'Are you really ok with me wearing this?' You asked eventually when he was done and washing his hands in the sink.

'Of course, darlin',' he wiped his hands on a towel. He was about to turn around, but you saw the moment as your chance and swiftly slithered by his side. He stumbled back slightly in surprise.

'So why have you been ignoring me for the past hour?'

'I haven't,' he slipped by you elegantly and got to packing up the prepared food into storage boxes.

'But you have-- you didn't even look at me until now.'

'Sorry, sweetheart. I was working.' Usually, his saying something like that would make you think things were back to normal, but he seemed nervous, and before you could say anything else, he excused himself to his cabin.

Confused and a bit flustered at the sudden departure, you stood in the kitchen for a moment. You had planned on going upstairs, to get some fresh air, when Luffy stormed into the room.

'Ah!' he exclaimed, 'glad to see you're back to your ink-free self.'

'Yeah, thanks, Luf.' You took another shot quickly and watched as the captain raided all the cupboards. 'Watcha looking for there?'

'The tangerine cookies that Sanji made yesterday. There should still be some here.' He stretched his arm out to pat around the back of the highest drawer.

'You sure you didn't eat them yet?'

'Nooo,' Luffy looked at you sternly. 'Because I put them there specifically so I wouldn't eat them earlier.'

'Right,' you nodded. 'Well, Sanji had been busy around here, prepping lunch for tomorrow; maybe he moved some things around,' you suggested. 'You could go and ask him.'

'Aaah, I could,' Luffy wavered, 'but I was hoping to do this without Sanji's help.'

'Did he ban you from the kitchen again?' After the last incident of Lufft stuffing himself full of snacks right before dinner, the cook had given him strict orders not to eat an hour before meals. Looking at the clock, you could see it was closing in on dinner time.

Luffy scoffed, which only confirmed your assumptions. With a sigh, you got up. 'Fine, I'll ask him. But he might be asleep, you know.'

'Thanks. You're the best.' Luffy said, arm the length of the room as he opened cupboard after cupboard. You just rolled your eyes and made your way to Sanji's cabin.

'Hey, Sanji,' you knocked softly, unsure if he had maybe decided to take a nap. With no response from the other side of the door, you tried again. You thought to just let it go and leave him be, but then you heard the clashing of the pans in the kitchen, followed by a Luffy 'I'm ok!' and knew that you needed an answer for your captain. These were desperate times.

'Hey, Sanji,' you opened the door. The only thing you had really seen was the shape of his body splayed out on the bed, and it was more of an instinct or a gut reaction that told you that you should not look any further. So, quickly apologising, you shut the door again as Sanji cursed out in shock at the door opening.

'Sorry!' You shouted through the door, simultaneously trying to comprehend the blurs of your vision and trying to forget anything you might have seen. He wasn't... no, that wasn't... no.

There was some stumbling coming from his room, followed by a few more curse words. You didn't know why you were still standing beside his door, but he certainly didn't expect you to have stayed there, and so, when he entered the corridor, your bodies practically collided.

'I didn't see anything!' You blurted out before Sanji could say anything. Both your faces were wide in horror. 'I swear- I just,' you made the mistake of taking his appearance in. His shirt was untucked from his trousers, belt unbuckled and hanging at his sides. Oh god. 'I just... I was wondering where the tangerine cookies were. The ones you made yesterday.'

He was still hard. Most of it was hidden by the layers of clothing, but there was no denying it. You did your best to keep your eyes on his face as he listened to you blurt out words like a maniac, but it sure was difficult as all the puzzle pieces came together.

'They should be in the left cabinet, bottom shelf. Behind the baking ingredients. I hid them so Luffy wouldn't eat them before dinner.'

'Good thinking,' you laughed, probably a bit too loud for the situation, but the nerves were getting worse by the second. 'Well, bye then.' And with that, you ran off to the kitchen, leaving Sanji in all his unspeakable glory behind.

In the kitchen, you were met with Luffy picking up the pans he had dropped and Nami looking at him with what could only be described as disappointment. Without acknowledging them, you walked over to the left cabinet, opened the bottom half of it and searched the bottom shelf for the box of leftover cookies, slamming them onto the counter. Luffy immediately lunged forward to them, oblivious to your shocked state, but the navigator was a bit more perceptive.

'What happened to you?' she asked, declining the offer of a cookie from the captain, who already had two in his mouth.

'Nothing,' you shook your head.

'You look like you've seen a ghost.'

'I didn't! I didn't see anything!' Nope, nothing at all. You definitely did not see that. Or how big it was... or how his hand looked wrapped around it... or his face when he- NO.

'Hey, is that Sanji's shirt?' Now, Luffy decided to be observant. You looked down at your shirt as if you had only now noticed what you were wearing.

'Oh, I guess it is.'

'He must be having a field day with that,' Nami snickered, to which you looked at her confused. She, in turn, rolled her eyes 'Like you haven't seen the way he looks at you on a regular day.'

'I- no?' you blinked, trying to grapple with what she was talking about.

Nami just shrugged before grabbing the last cookie from Luffy's hand and walking out of the room. If you thought he would be aware of anything that you had just talked about, you would have asked the captain if he knew what Nami meant by her comments but instead just contemplated on it all by yourself.

Against all your survival instincts, you walked back in the direction of Sanji's door and knocked again. This time loud and clear. There was shuffling coming from the other side, and a second later, the door opened to reveal Sanji. His lips were pulled in a tight line of a smile as he looked down at you.

'Hey, can I come in?' you asked softly.

'What?' Sanji asked before the initial question properly connected in his mind. 'Uhh, I don't think that's a great idea.'

'Sanj, we should talk about what happened earlier.'

'Do we, though?' His voice raised in pitch nervously, but you just glared up at him, unimpressed.

'Sanji, please just let me come inisde.' You pushed out any thought that just burst through your mind that did not have to do with the current situation, but it was hard to see the images of what you saw in his room before were still very much playing over and over in your head.

In the end, Sanji gave in and opened the door for you. As you walked in, he stayed behind you, hand running nervously through his hair, as he spoke: 'Listen, I'm really sorry about... everything that happened today, really.'

'You have nothing to be sorry for.' You turned to face him. 'I'm the one that stole your shirt and stormed into your room unannounced.' It was his room. He had the right to do whatever he pleased in it.

Sanji laughed awkwardly, looking away to the far side of the room, but even then, you caught how his eyes glanced and slightly lingered over your body. The blue-striped shirt still hanging over it.

You, in the meantime, fought the urge to look at his body, combined with the memory of what you had caught him doing.

Maybe it was the few shots you had taken earlier to forget about the giant squid attack that instead did nothing you had hoped for but only made you bolder as you asked: 'were you thinking about me?'

'What?'

'You know, earlier. When I walked in. Were you... thinking of me?'

'Shit, don't make me say it.' He combed his fingers through his hair. You walked over to him, closing the gap between you lightly.

'Why not?'

'Because I don't want to make things weird between us.' His jaw clenched as you came towards him, and you couldn't help but laugh at what he had to say.

'Oh, it's definitely too late for that now. Things are already weird.'

'Super weird, aren't they?' he asked softly, strangely intensely.

And so, when you responded, your agreeing words were only as hushed as he had been, too focused on each other's proximity. The two of you stood there, frozen between actions, taking each other's bodies in at the new lack of distance until Sanji took the final step over the edge, kissing you with his hands on cupping your cheeks.

You stumbled back at the force, steadying yourself when you caught onto the shirt he was wearing. One of his hands moved down to your waist, guiding you to his bed until the back of your knees hit the wood, and you lightly fell back.

Sanji placed himself over you, and as his weight pressed over you, you could feel his hard-on through his trousers. A curse fell from his lips when you reached for it and your fingertips moved over the material.

'You've been drivin' me insane the whole day, walkin' around in that shirt.' He said as he began leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.

'Figured,' you couldn't but be a bit smug about it, which he did not seem to appreciate given the pinch of his teeth you felt on your sensitive skin.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him even closer to you, trying to get some, friction out of the movement as he pressed himself against you.

'Cocky are we?' He smiled into his kisses, and at this point, all you could do was nod in agreement.

Sanji kept himself up over you with one hand as he used the other to unzip your shorts. One-handed and without a clear view, taking them off turned out to be a bit more of a challenge, far more awkward than expected when you tried to shuffle out of them, but his touch on your skin made up for it by tenfold.

You were about to make a start on unbuttoning the shirt you were wearing when Sanji stopped you. 'No, keep it on.' and kissed you before you could make any other snarky remark on his behalf. But when he pulled away again, though slightly dazed by the passion, you still managed to comment.

'If this is the treatment I receive for stealing your clothes, I might just do it more often.'

To this, Sanji groaned through his teeth. 'You're gonna be the death of me, sweetheart, I swear.

#sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji fanfiction #sanji fanfic #sanji smut #sanji fluff #sanji fic #one piece fanfiction #fanfiction #smut #fluff #fic #request

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thiefoflight68 · 1 year

Text

TAMING OF THE CREW

Bakusquad x Fem!reader Insert

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

I recently read a great story on Tumblr by @succubisblog

Bakusquad G*ngbang Drabble 18+ - Link to story (also reblogged on my Tumblr account). If you want to read it first.

Love a great GB, but got me thinking about how I could make a sequel with a TWIST! You know I LOVE me some fluffy GngBng!!

Enjoy!!

STOP! If you are not over 18, please DNI

4 men 1 woman/use of slut/whore/praise/daddy/baby girl. Blowjob, toys, penetration/ references to anal sex

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

Sitting in the living room, you suck down a coffee while typing on your laptop, you glance at the clock, not much time, you need to finish.

“Hey, (y/n), you’re not streaming yet?” Looking up you see Mina come out of her bedroom. She stumbles and collapses onto the couch. “Fuck,” she moans.

“What the hell?” You move in time as her head almost lands in your lap.

“Sorry,” she spins around looking up, her skin white and sweaty. Touching her forehead lightly you frown, furrowing your brows. “Crap,” she touches her face, “that bad?”

“Kinda,” you turn your attention back to the computer. “I heard you went to the frat party last night. The football players?” You give her a hard stare.

“They had a live band!” She whines.

Shrugging you laugh, “you know why those guys hire them, right?”

“I know, I know, but-”

“Fuck!” The door slams as your other roommate storms into the apartment throwing down her grocery bags.

“Whoa! What the hell girl? What’s wrong?”

Looking up she just shakes her head, putting away her food.

You notice Mina covering her face, glancing between the two of them, you watch as food is all but thrown into the fridge.

“Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Mina,” she shoves her empty bags into the pantry and stalks to the couch. “Next time you get drunk at their fucking frat house, you” she points in her face, “are on your own!” Marching down the hall she disappears into her room, slamming her door.

“What happened to-” you pause seeing the look on Mina’s face. “No,” you cover your mouth, looking down the hall and back at her, she nods. “With her?” She nods again. “Of all the people, I never thought she’d get pulled into that nonsense.”

“Helllloooo!” Ochako opens the door, her cheeks red from the cool air. Pulling off her coat, she plops into the chair across from you. “It feels nice in here, but we should turn the heat up,” she rubs her arms. You throw a blanket at her. Laughing she wraps herself up, “what’s wrong with her?” She nods towards Mina.

“Hungover.” Mina moans loudly as emphasis.

“Crap you didn’t go to the frat party last night did you?”

“I did but Bakugou called an Uber for me.” You snort loudly grabbing your computer, you begin typing again. “What?!” Mina looks up at you.

“Only because,” you cast a look down the hall, “someone else was getting gangbanged, otherwise it would’ve been you Mina.”

“Oh shit!” Ochako leans forward, “did-”

“Yes,” Mina sighed, getting up. “She came to get me last night because I was drunk and I guess she got sweet-talked into playing with them.”

“She hates them!”

“She does,” you agree.

“You can’t trust them,” Mina quips.

“Then why’d you go?” Ochako’s voice is icy, almost snippy.

“They had Wrong Way/One Way playing last night,” Mina pulls the other blanket off the couch and curls around the fuzzy softness. “You know how much I like them...” her voice trails off as she picks at the edge of the blanket.

“How does anyone get sweet-talked into ‘playing’ with those guys,” you roll your eyes. “They think they’re god’s gift to sex.” You look back at the computer keeping your eyes downcast, you don’t want them to see the disappointment in your eyes. “Who was there last night?” You side-eye Mina.

“I think just Kiri, Bakugou and Denki?” She shakes her head, “I can’t imagine all those cocks at once could be that good,” giggling as she buries her face in the blanket.

“Um,” Ochako coughs slightly blushing, “it’s pretty amazing.” Looking up, your brows shoot up. Blushing redder, she looks away.

“You too?”

“Not all of them, it was just Bakugou and Kirishima,” she jumps up, going into the kitchen, she grabs the kettle. “Anyone want tea?”

“I do,” Mina looks up, “I can’t believe you fucked them Ochako!” She bites her lip, “so is it true?”

“What true?” Ochako flips the heat on the kettle and pulls out the tea.

Shrugging she picks more at the blanket, “I heard they can make you orgasm like ten times.” You peer at her for a moment and look back at Ochako.

“Ten is an exaggeration, but,” she smiles wistfully, “it was close.”

“Seriously?” Mina stands up, her skin growing paler, “oh shit, I shouldn’t move that fast.”

“Sit down before you puke on the rug,” you push her back. “So, how many times did they cum?” Ochako crinkles her forehead.

“Crap, (Y/n),” she laughs, “I can’t remember, maybe two times each?”

“Anything else?”

“Anything else?” She tilts her head, giving you a quizzical look, “besides cumming?”

“Did they tie you up? Blindfold you?” You turn off your computer, it’s time to stream soon.

“Oh!” Ochako blooms another shade of red. “No, Bakugou controls the whole thing, he told Kiri what to do with me,” a soft smile plays on her lips. “And he gets pretty verbal, things like ‘be a good whore’ and ‘look only at me’. He has a daddy kink too.” She pours hot water over the tea and lifts one for you.

“He does?” standing up you grab the tea cup, “thanks.”

“What are you doing? A research paper on them?” Ochako laughs nervously as she hands Mina one of the mugs.

“Sort of,” you give her a weak smile as you pick up your stuff and walk down the hall.

“Good luck on your stream,” Mina calls as you head into your room.

Sitting down on your bed, you sigh heavily. Katsuki Bakugou was someone that had been stuck in your head for a long time. You’d been in a freshman class your first semester with him and his whole crew. They’d been different then, as nervous as everyone else, well everyone but Bakugou, he’d been cocky from the start.

Stop it!

Scolding yourself, you focus on getting ready for class, Rolling out your yoga mat, you set up the ring light, still trying to shake off those feelings from long ago. Try as you might though, unwanted memories continue floating through your mind. Somehow you’d ended up at the same table as them and had been assigned to a project with Bakugou. It had been a complicated research presentation and you’d had to meet several times. What you discovered was that he was actually a fairly nice person, not something most knew about him. While you had hid it well, it was during that time you’d fallen for him, nursing a one-sided crush. It was right after that project he’d pledged the fraternity with all of his friends and then you rarely saw him, except for tests or presentations. You found out someone was taking notes for the group and based on the stories you knew they were either on the football field or throwing parties. Their fraternity parties were getting more wild and word spread about their legendary gangbangs. You’d steered clear of them at that point and pushed away your feelings for Bakugou. Well, at least tried, you still listened to the rumors and it was the growing stories of their sexual prowess that had piqued your interest. Not that you ever planned on getting sucked into their shit, but it was around that time you started your journey into increasing your own sexual abilities. You weren’t sure why…or did you know? Smiling, you sit and flip on your stream. In some way you still feel weirdly connected to him, like a itch that had never been scratched. You’d been motivated to think you could be his equal or maybe better and deep down you do know why. “Ten orgasms,” you mutter sarcastically but an intense ache throbs through your clit, sucking in a deep breath, you look up at the ceiling. The fantasy you nursed was quite simple, you’d dreamed that you could make him so desperate from your sexual abilities that he’d devote himself to you. Laughing off the wild dream, you see the camera light click red.

“Alright, we are almost done for tonight everyone,” you sit down on your mat. The room is softly lit now by candles, your ring light turned down. “Great job, remember this session is for new people and I know,” you hold up your hands, “in the beginning you don’t think you feel anything. Trust me, I was there once too.” Pausing as you read some comments, you laugh at the sarcastic quips, “I promise in a few months your muscles will get stronger and before you know it, you’ll be able to really tell the difference.” Stretching your arms over your head, you read more in the chat. “Hi Simpplaidgirl,” you laugh to yourself, the user names always make you chuckle. “I stream twice a week to go over exercises and questions. I know these seem really basic but,” you sit up tall pointing to your lower abdomen, “we need to increase the strength in our pelvic floor muscles before learning how to isolate our vaginal walls. The beginning is just doing contractions, but as you advance we will move on to squeezing and learning how to move the right and left sides compared to the front and back of our canal. In fact, you will be able to lock, twist and pulse your partner’s penis deep inside you.” You wink, “I can even suck a vibrator completely into my vagina, push it out and pull it back in again,” wiggling your fingers, “with no hands.” Grinning you see the comments flying through one after the other. “I know, I know but look if I can do it, so can you. Right now though we need to stretch and then anyone who wants to stay,” you hold up a dildo, “we’ll be going over blowjob techniques.” You lay back looking into the camera, “now, lift up your right leg and cross it over your left.”

Running as fast as you can down the hall, you see the room number, “finally,” you hiss out and dash into the room. Stopping you manage to grab the door before it bangs shut behind you. A few people look up and then back to the professor, who is writing out the lecture notes on the board. Scanning the room you spy a table with a couple of open chairs and race to it, sitting down quickly, you pull out your laptop. Taking a moment to breathe you pick up on what the professor is saying. A small cough to your right gets your attention, looking over you freeze, hands hovering above your keyboard. It’s him, your heart leaps in your chest, blood pounds almost painfully through your body. A cocky grin sweeps across his face, winking Katsuki smirks at you. You finally manage to smile back but realize he’s already focused on the lecture again. Shaking your head you quickly start copying what is on the board. After a few moments you cast a quick glance back around the table, your stomach doing a flip, they’re all there. Eijiro smiles at you briefly as he types into his computer, Kaminari is busy playing on his phone. Swallowing hard you realize you picked the absolute worst seat in the world, the only one missing is Sero. The door closes again and someone crosses the room and sits in the empty seat next to you, looking over you almost groan out loud, it’s Sero. He grins at you as he pulls out his computer. Focusing on the professor you refuse to smile back, trying to pretend you’re anywhere else. The lecture isn’t long, you breathe a sigh of relief as the professor wraps up.

“I have a small project for each table to complete over winter break,” he points to a stack of papers. “This isn’t difficult but it’s an excellent warm up for our final.” Someone grabs the papers and starts handing them out. “Let’s not get fancy, whatever table you're with right now is your group. Please write your names on one of the papers going around so that I know who is at what table. This should only take you a couple of weeks, so good luck everyone.”

Your mouth falls open as the TA slides the blank sheet of paper onto your table. Denki writes his name and pushes it to Kiri who slides it over to Sero, grabbing the sheet from him, Bakugou quickly scribbles on it and hands it back to the assistant.

“Uh, wait!” You reach out towards the TA as he walks away. “Hey,” you glare at Katsuki, “what about me?”

“What about you?”

The gleam in his eye makes you pause, “I need to put my name on the list.” You wonder why you’re even arguing. “I actually have to get a good grade in this class,” you huff, as much as you hate to work with them, you have to keep up your gpa for your grad school applications.

Packing up his bag, he shrugs, “I put your name down.”

“You - You know who I am?” Your voice slowly rises in disbelief.

Ignoring you, he picks up a packet, “let’s meet on Thursday to get this done.” All three men look at him curiously.

“We have two weeks Bakugou,” Sero laughs, “what’s the rush?”

“I want to get it done, what the fuck’s the problem?”

Peeking at them as you push your computer into the bag you see everyone exchange quick glances, Kiri looks at you, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Thursday good for you? Um, sorry I don’t know your name.” Kiri asks, still looking at you.

“(Y/N), I’m Mina’s roommate,” Kaminari swings his head to look at you, a lascivious look on his face. You scowl at him, “other roommate.”

“Oh.”

“You room with Ochako too,” Eijiro closes his computer, his eyes twinkling.

“I do,” your voice clipped, you grab one of the project packs. “I have a better idea, let’s assign duties and that way we can work online.”

“We have to get to practice,” Bakugou shoves back his chair. Reaching over he writes a number on your paperwork, “text me to confirm Thursday or we’ll find another day.” He starts for the door.

Staring at the phone number, your mind is spinning, you need to figure something out quickly. “Thursday I have something and I’m usually slammed during the week, how about this weekend?” You smile wide, they always have parties or games, weekends would never be good for them.

“We can do Friday,” Kaminari is already looking at his phone, “bye week this week.”

“Oh, what’s a bye week?” You ask lamely, Friday night was definitely worse.

“Means no game,” Kiri throws his bag over his shoulder, “we can meet anytime after 5, just let Bakugou know when you can get together.” Giving you a long look, he follows the rest of the group.

“(Y/N)?” You turn to see Ochako at a table across the way. “Where were you?” Standing, she watches them leave, “I saved you a seat.”

Closing your eyes, you want to cry, “I forgot they changed rooms this week and went to the auditorium.”

“Oh shit. So, who are you working with on the project?” She cocks a brow knowingly.

“No one,” you groan, grabbing your bag. “Let’s go.”

Sitting on your bed, you bite your lip, your finger hovering over your phone. Finally you type in his number. You’ve already decided that a public place was the only way you’d meet with them.

(Y/n) - Friday is fine, 6 pm at the library

The text sits unread, waiting a few minutes, you breathe out. “Crap,” you set down the phone just as it flashes with his response.

(Bakugou) - Library closed early on Friday, meet at our fraternity house - same time.

“What?!” Opening the campus website you scroll quickly to the information page, there on the top is the announcement of the library closure on Friday through Monday. “Nooo!” You wail, staring at the screen trying to think of any other place.

(Y/n) - No, a cafe instead

(Bakugou) - You know I don’t like working at places like that, fraternity house or ask the prof for a different group.

You can practically hear the growl behind the text. “Shit,” clearly he knows who you are and remembers the time you’d spent working on the last project. He’d never wanted to meet anywhere public and had always insisted on the private dorm study rooms available only to freshmen. Sighing, you debate your choices. Your phone flashes with another text.

(Bakugou) - Worried?

Snorting you glare at your phone. “Yes,” you mumble.

(Y/N) - No

(Bakugou) - See you Friday then, 6 pm - our house.

“Ugh!” Flopping down on your bed, you hug your pillow. Why, why, why? Why did you wait to take this class with Ochako, you’d be done by now! Why did you forget the classroom change today? Sighing you close your eyes, outside of asking for a table switch, which you dreaded, the damn professor had been anything but nice, you’d have to go and work on the project with them. Picking up your phone you read through the texts again. He’d remembered you, a small thrill courses through your body. You’d figured he’d forgotten, but he’d actually remembered your name. Sitting back up, you touch the screen of your phone, the thrill turning into a deeper ache. Friday night, hugging your knees, the swirling of nervous energy in your stomach turns into a full storm blowing through your body. Isn’t this what you’d wanted all along? “Here’s your chance girl, grab it,” you whisper but you're still trembling. You’d spent over two years perfecting your skills for one man, you steel yourself, even if he comes with a pack, it was worth everything. It would be a challenge but you wanted him to be the one having ten orgasms. Laughing, you jump up, opening your closet and begin picking out your clothes carefully.

Getting out of your car, you smooth your clothes. You chose a simple black skirt and a soft low cut blouse that showed the swell of your breasts without being blatant. Underneath you wore black silk thigh highs with your favorite dark pink lingerie set, a butt plug firmly in place. You’d hydrated, eaten right, cleaned everything and packed your toys, since your past boyfriends always struggled to bring you to orgasm, you’d decided to bring your personal equipment, in case the rumors weren’t true. Working your way to the large fraternity house, you knew you were more than prepared physically. Squeezing your pussy walls together in a quick whipping motion you try to make yourself feel confident. If something did happen and anyone was going to be begging for more tonight, it would be them. The fantasy you’d nursed for three years was taking shape as you stepped up on the wide porch, gripping the handle of your backpack tightly, you bravely knock on the door. It swings wide as Denki smiles and waves.

“There you are.”

Your heart leaps in your chest. Smiling back your calm face hides the crazed emotions rolling through your mind and body.

“Come in,” he motions for you to follow him through the large home. Walking through the expansive hallway, you stare at the multitude of paintings and pictures, the house is really beautiful.

“How does this place stay so nice?”

“What?” Denki turns to look at you following your gaze.

“The parties,” you explain.

“Oh, those are held out back,” he waves his hand over his head, “there’s a rec room that way, we try to keep these areas free of all that shit.”

“That's gotta be hard,” you note the wood is in almost perfect condition. He laughs and bounds up the steps, turning he watches you come up the rest of the stairs not moving as you step on the top step.

“You’re really pretty,” Kaminari appraises your body, “what a waste.”

You choke for a moment, “ a waste?” You blink, was he being serious?

“Yeah,” he looks over his shoulder, “we were given strict instructions-”

“Denki!” Bakugou shouts, interrupting as he strides out of a wide door across from the stairs, “where the hell is she?” Poking your head around the smaller blonde’s body you smile.

“Here.” You see his eyes flare for a moment as he clicks his tongue.

“We don’t have all day, let’s get this done.”

Following Denki, you walk into a room that appears to be an oversized library or office, you aren’t sure which. A large desk sits to one side surrounded by endless shelves of books. Several large tables fill the room, Sero and Eijiro sit with their computers, both don’t look happy. You set your bag on the table, “great way to spend Friday night, right?” You mutter apologetically. Sero glares over at Bakugou then down at his computer.

“No one had plans,” Katsuki sits down pointing to an empty chair, “take that seat.”

“I grabbed some more drinks and snacks,” Sero pushes more food onto the table, without glancing up you grab some chips and begin munching. It’d been three hours and you were exhausted, but true to his word Bakugou had made everyone power through and you were finally done.

“A title page and that’s it,” leaning back you stretch and stand up, bouncing around trying to get the blood back into your legs.

“I’ve got that,” Kirishima finishes typing while watching you jump around.

“That’s it?” Denki lays on his arm, closing his eyes in relief. “If this was an easy warm up, man, that final is going to be killer.”

“We could study for it together if you want,” the words are out of your mouth before you realize what you’ve said, you close your mouth. He lifts his head for a moment then plops back down.

“Maybe.”

Feeling relief at his non-committal attitude you sit back down. The whole night had been so normal you really meant what you said. The group had studied and put together the project, no stares or winks, some smiles and a few glances at your chest, but nothing else. Your confidence had been growing by leaps and bounds as you’d watched them work together naturally. Clearly Bakugou was in charge, Kiri and Denki seemed to rely on him the most, both flanking him on either side. You’d chuckled at how they hung on his words and actions. Eijiro was sincere and hard working, seeking praise from Bakugou while Kaminari just played around the whole time and only offered a few bits of help when Katsuki snarled at him. Sero seemed to be the only one that would challenge Bakugou at anything. It was at these times that Katsuki would listen and make his decision, whereas with Denki and Kiri, he usually immediately dismissed them, until Sero agreed with them and then he would soften and contemplate the disagreement.

“We’re done,” Kirishima looks at his phone, “and it’s still early.”

Glancing at your own phone, it's just after 9, your nerves start to pick back up. Would they say something now? “Glad that’s over,” you laugh self-consciously, cleaning up your stuff, you peek up at Bakugou. He’s focused on his computer.

“I sent everyone the project,” he looks up. “I don’t think we have to present this one, but if we do, we’ll figure it out later.” His red eyes land on you, “is that cool?” He notices a slight hesitation flicker across your face as you nod. “I guess that’s a night then,” standing he stretches and comes up behind you, reaching for your bag.

“Why in a hurry?” Denki snickers softly, leaning his chin into his hands, he bats his long gold lashes.

“Cut it out,” Katsuki grabs your bag and pulls your chair out, he glares at Kaminari.

“What’s up Bakugou?” Sero tips his head, “don’t want to share her?”

“Share me?” You step back, colliding into Katsuki’s solid chest. “S-sorry!” You jump forward stumbling, his hand catches your arm holding you steady.

“Oi, stop moving around.” Casting an annoyed look at Sero, his jaw clenches. “She isn’t someone that could handle this group.” Tugging on your arm, he softens his tone. “Get your computer and I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Can’t handle this group?” You spin around glaring at him, “I’m not some baby!” Fiercely grabbing your bag in Katsuki’s hands, you pull it away from him.

“I’ve got it,” Bakugou barks, pulling at the same time.

“Wait! NO!” You watch in horror as the bag tips upside down, one by one your toys spill out onto the floor. First your clit vibrator, followed by your vibrating beads, then the bottle of lube lands with a thud, spinning a few times and rolling to a stop at Bakugou’s feet.

Tilting his head, a cocky grin crosses his face. “Maybe I judged you wrong (Y/n)?” Leaning over he picks up the items from the floor and sets them on the table, still holding the small vibrator. He cups your chin running a thumb across your lips. “Were you hoping for an after-study session?” Lifting the device he pushes the button to start the buzzing.

You hear chairs scrape back as the others stand. “Whatcha got there?” Sero picks up the lube, “this is good stuff, what are you planning on doing with this?” His tone is playful.

For a moment you want to run and hide, to take back all the preparation, maybe you weren’t ready for this group. Looking down you try to think of what to say, slowly looking up you stare into those molten red eyes, gazing at you openly now, a fire ignites deep inside you. The surge of desire you’ve been holding back all these past years floods your senses. Biting his thumb still on your lip, you smile. “The vibrator,” you reach up and touch the button to turn up the intensity, “is because no can bring me to orgasm without this,” your voice edged with the challenge. Grinning wickedly, his thumb slides over the device to turn it off.

“Then I guess we won’t need it,” tossing it back on the table, he flicks a quick look at Sero, “grab the lube.” Laying a hand on your backside, he squeezes your ass.

Watching the vibrator bounce on the table, you tilt your head, “you sure about that?“ You tease, looking around at the others, moving around you, their eyes gleaming with desire. “Are we going to do it here?” you thump the table. There is a flicker of uncertainty for a brief second in Bakugou’s eyes, you smile inwardly to your toes, you’ve surprised him. “Not that I mind, but is there somewhere a bit more comfortable?” You reach out and run a finger along his jawline, “since there’s so many of us.” Rough hands land on your hips.

“Let’s go to Bakugou’s room,” Eijiro kisses your ear sending a tremor through your body, his fingers kneading your hips.

Tipping your head back so your lips are as close to his ear as possible, you run your hand through his hair, “what a good boy,” you murmur so softly only he can hear, his face flushes a deep red. He stares at you, the same look of uncertainty shines in his eyes. You conceal a triumphant smile.

Bakugou jerks you suddenly from Kiri’s grip, slamming you into his chest, looping his arm heavily over your shoulders. “This way,” he leads you abruptly out the door and down the hall, opening his bedroom door. The others walk quickly behind him. Stopping he swings you around, his mouth covers yours in a punishing kiss, rough and urgent, you revel in the fierceness, looping your arm around his neck you push into him, demanding even more. You feel hands sliding up your skirt.

“Wait,” you try to pull back but Katsuki presses you tightly against his body.

“No waiting, (Y/n), you’re ours now,” Denki snickers, closing and locking the door.

Peering around Bakugou’s shoulder you give Denki a smoldering look that freezes him in his tracks, “if you want to play Kaminari, then everyone plays by my rules.” Sweeping a gaze at each man, you lift a brow, “otherwise nothing happens.”

“Too late-”

“What rules?” Bakugou growls, cutting off Sero, he lays a heavy hand on your face, “go on.”

“No filming,” you peek again at Denki, who is already holding up his phone, his gold eyes darting to Katsuki. “If I tap someone or call out that I’m in pain, then everyone has to stop so I can get comfortable again, afterall,” you level a sultry gaze at Katsuki who is looming above you, “this is about pleasure, right?”

“Yeah,” he points to Denki, “no camera,” turning back he waits for a moment but you’re quiet, “anything else?”

“One last thing,” taking a deep breath you summon every shred of courage possible. The fantasy that has played in your mind is now a possibility, you’re going to grab for the brass ring. “If I can make all of you cum before I do, you all have to be my devoted slaves for one month.”

“Your what?” His brows furrow.

“You heard me,” you smirk at Katsuki’s incredulous look, “if I win then for one month, you and your crew have to do whatever I ask.” You spread your hands over his chest, “maybe slaves is too harsh a word.” You look at all of them, “let’s say devoted boyfriends for one month if I can make all of you cum before I do.” His tongue clicks lightly as he studies you.

“All of us cum first? Shit, I’ll take that bet any day.” Sero laughs. “What do we get?”

You glance at Sero, “If I lose, then I’ll be the devoted slave for whoever doesn’t cum during the next thirty days.” You pat Sero’s shoulder, “are you in?” You turn to Eijiro whose face is still bright red, “Kirishima?”

“Well, I, uh,” he’s staring desperately at Katsuki.

“You serve all of us or no deal,” Bakugou snaps, “and we choose who goes when and where.”

Twisting your lips, you nod slightly, “okay, I agree to serve all of you but” you shake your head, “we decide together on who goes when.” You don’t want Bakugou first, your body is already too fired up from touching him. You know you need to finish off the others first, if he’s last and feeling pressured you had a chance with him.

“Worried?” He laughs sarcastically, “or maybe your bark is worse than your bite,” he hooks his thumb into the corner of your mouth, opening your lips you let him press inside, you don’t answer. “Who goes first then?” He doesn’t take his thumb out of your mouth, you flick a glance at Denki, then to Sero and last to Kirishima. Chuckling he grins wide.

“Denki, you’ve been underestimated again,” he laughs as your eyes widen. Digging his thumb deeper, he steps within an inch of your face, “our cameraman has delayed ejaculation, that’s why he mainly films, he takes too long.”

“Why?” You mouth around his thumb.

“Cause I like a strong grip,” Denki sidles up alongside you, “been masturbating so long, I only cum with a tight fist, no pussy gives me that feeling.”

Pulling out his thumb, Katsuki sweeps his gaze up your body, “so, I go last? How about you warm up Sero in your mouth while Denki fucks you for the next hour or until your senseless?” He pulls off his T-shirt. Your eyes go owl wide as you stare at his chest. Laughing at your expression, Katsuki tosses his shirt to the side, “this is like taking candy from a fucking baby.”

The rest of them take off their shirts, looking around, you realize you’re in the middle of four of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. “My turn,” you shake off yourself mentally and slip off your shirt, exposing the lacy bra you’d chosen. This piece has always been your favorite as it shows your breasts off perfectly. You hear a soft whistle.

“Damn, (Y/n), you hide those way too well,” Kaminari’s eyes are glued to your chest. He was definitely a boob man, reaching forward you take his hands and put them on your breasts feeling your nipples harden under his warmth. Whatever it took to get him excited fast would make it easier to get him to cum. His hands begin to knead you roughly, pinching your nipples, your body wakes up pushing a soft moan from your lips.

“Don’t make this too easy on us,” Kaminari leans over pushing aside the lace and suckles at your nipple. Another moan, this one louder erupts from your lungs. His tongue flicking at your hard nub. His mouth feels amazing but you know getting yourself to orgasm isn’t easy, something only you’ve been able to do with your toys. You can hear the others begin removing the rest of their clothes, you reach and unclip your skirt letting it pool at your ankles, exposing black thigh highs and your strappy thong with small chains running around your hips.

“Fuck,” you hear Kiri breath out, turning to him, you grab his face and pull him in for a deep kiss, playing with his tongue. Sero’s mouth closes around your other nipple, you utter a guttural groan in the kiss. Two at once with different tempos is mind blowing.

“Since everyone is so busy, let me start back here,” Bakugou walks behind you, slapping your ass appreciatively. Getting down on his knees, he pulls your thong aside and pauses, tapping your butt plug. “Looks like we have someone that likes ass play.”

“What?” Sero snaps his head up, “seriously? Oh shit,” he breathes out.

“No ass for you Sero, you’ll cum just thinking about it, in fact, her fucking ass is off limits for everyone.”

“Katsuki!”

“Fucking shut it, after she cums Sero, win the damn bet and you can fuck her ass all you want for the next thirty days.” Pushing his face between your legs, he begins licking up your already drenched folds. “She’s nice and wet already,” he laughs, reaching deep with his tongue.

You shiver at the sudden intrusion, heat building into your pussy, you focus back on the kiss with Kiri, pushing away the intense throbbing now pulsing under your clit.

Sero latches back onto your nipple, now nipping, “I’ll fucking make you cum, (Y/n). I want that ass.”

“I think this little slut will cum before one cock splits this pussy,” Bakugou smiles as he feels your walls flutter in reaction to his mouth. “You like that?” He runs his hands up your legs enjoying the silky feel of your stockings.

“Mmmm,” you move your hips back to push his mouth against your clit.

“Kinda risky, don’t you think?” His mouth wraps around your swollen clit as he begins to suck. You mewl loudly at the sweet feeling of his tongue dragging you into his mouth rhythmically.

“F-Fuck,” you kiss Eijiro deeper, reacting to the others working on your body. You’ve never experienced so many sensations at once, you need to get Denki into your body before you give them too much time. “Lube?” You pull back digging your fingers into Sero’s soft hair, he bites your nipple and looks up, black eyes glittering. Reaching back, he pulls the bottle off the table. Snagging it, you pump some in your hand, you grasp Denki’s swollen cock. Slathering him liberally, you fist his dick tightly and begin to stroke. His mouth falls open releasing your nipple as he gasps from your grip. You feel Bakugou pull away from your pussy.

“Kaminari,” he stands quickly, grabbing your hand. “You’ll fucking cum too fast that way,” he growls, “fucking dunce head.” Pushing him sideways, he grabs your face from Kiri’s mouth, squeezing your cheeks, “on all fours, now.” His hand presses hard on your back.

Stumbling forward you grab Sero to balance yourself, his hands guide you down. “Thanks,” you mumble, getting yourself comfortable.

“Shove your dick in her mouth,” he nods to Sero.

“I know what the fuck to do Bakugou,” he grins as you look up opening your mouth wide, tongue hanging out. “What a good fucking slut,” Sero strokes your cheek, “let’s see what you can do with this,” he smiles, shoving his dick into your face.

Playful, he likes playful. Looping your fingers around his stiff cock, you suck hard, working the tip with your lips and tongue. Denki’s hands are on your ass, spreading you open, you shudder waiting as he slides his hard dick against you.

“Damn you look so fucking good,” Denki licks his lips, “don’t even need lube, you’re so fucking wet.” Sliding slowly into your pussy, his eyes close as you grip him tightly. “Oh fuck yeah, that feels good.”

Bakugou wiggles himself under your body, his mouth latching onto your nipple, he sucks hard. He reaches down at the same time, fingering your throbbing clit. “Gonna make you cum fast,” he pinches your clit.

Squeezing your eyes shut you move your hips as his fingers start to pull at the increasing restlessness inside you. Distract yourself. Concentrating back on Sero, you tease him as you bounce and suck on his cock, slowly taking him all the way into your mouth. Finally you plunge his cock against the back of your throat. Glancing sideways you see Kiri is watching you with a tight expression on his face. Pumping lube in your hand, you reach out for him. He catches your fingers and guides you to his stiff cock, its huge, side-eyeing him again, you see it, thick and long. You shudder again as Denki pushes deeper starting to pump into your pussy, the incredible jolt from his cock and Bakugou’s finger on your clit has you groaning on Sero’s cock.

“That’s it baby, cum for daddy,” Bakugou times his rhythm on your clit with Denki’s thrusts.

Clenching your throat around Sero, you’re surprised by the first telltale pops pulling tautly deep inside your body. You have to finish Denki off and fast. Fighting the growing orgasm, you lock down on him just as thrusts hard inside you. He likes it tight. Caught in your vice grip, you feel him try to pull back a few times, his cock stuck in your pussy.

“Hey-” Your next move rips the words from his brain.

Squeezing his cock with all your strength, you move the walls of your pussy back and forth, stroking him in a fast twisting motion.

“H-HEY!” Denki squeals, you feel his hands on your ass trying to pull back even harder. His attempts make you almost giggle as you raise your eyes up to Sero and open your mouth around his dick, letting saliva spill down your chin, you smile.

“Good girl,” he murmurs all of his attention on your mouth.

Keeping Denki in an iron grip, you begin to contract your pussy quickly, pulsing along his whole shaft, mimicking a tight hand job. His cock bulges as you stroke faster. Grinning, you continue to suckle Sero as you run a thumb over the tip of Kiri’s cock, precum gushes over your fingers. The masterful finger on your clit is driving you wild but you continue to push it out of your mind concentrating hard on making Denki cum.

“(Y/n)” Kaminari whimpers as his cock starts twitching, whatever you’re doing feels just like an iron fist squeezing his whole dick. “Don’t - fuck - don’t-“ his balls pull tight as a deep pulsing rips through his muscles. Digging his fingers into your hips, he screams, “OH HELL!!”

The finger on your clit stops as you pull Kaminari’s cock deeper into your pussy with another fast contraction, his body shaking as he lets out another loud cry, his hips thrusting unmoving against you as hot cum fills your pussy. Sighing, you relax your body, pushing your mouth down Sero’s length again. One down.

Feeling your pussy release him, Denki pulls out fast, falling back, he catches himself as he lands on his ass. Sagging onto the carpet, his body still trembling, he looks up to see Bakugou sit up and stare at him sprawled on the ground.

“Did you fucking cum?” Disbelief on his face.

You see Katsuki out of the corner of your eye move behind you, pulsing your pussy outward, you push Denki’s thick cum out so he can see your first victory. If your mouth wasn’t filled with Sero’s cock, you’d laugh at his deep growl of frustration. Opening wider as Sero thrusts, you catch his cock on the ridges of your throat, swallowing rapidly, you squeeze and release the tip of his dick. His fingers dig into your hair as he starts shaking, yanking your face into his body, he thrusts hard. Your tongue moves non-stop, coaxing him to orgasm. A large hand grabs your fingers wrapped around Kiri’s dick.

“Stop,” Bakugou unhooks your hand.

“Fuck! Bakugou, that felt fucking good.” Kiri catches his breath.

“Yeah? Too fucking good, you wanna be her bitch for a month?”

“No?” For a moment Eijiro isn’t really sure he cares.

“Sero!” He snaps, but he can see his jaw is slack as he thrusts into your mouth. His head tips back as he moans loudly. “Fuck! Sero!” Too late, Katsuki watches his eyes flutter as he pumps hard, his mouth working open and shut, gritting his teeth at the last moment.

Sucking hard, you’re rewarded as cum fills your mouth, hot and tangy, sliding down your throat and overflowing over your tongue, you grin as you pull back. Opening your mouth you turn to Katsuki, cum oozing down your lips, eyes twinkling, you hold up two fingers.

“Kaminari,” he yanks him to his feet. “Go back to the study, get her vibrating thing, it's on the table.”

Sitting up on your knees, you smile, “worried?” You try to keep a light teasing tone but your stomach clenches, if he uses the vibrator, you’re toast. Standing slowly you press yourself against him. “I guess you’re like all the others then?” Licking the cum from your lips slowly, you frown, “no one can ever get me off without that toy.” He squints at you, his eyes a fiery red. Grabbing your throat, he tightens his hand for a moment, you relax under his fingers. “Daddy,” you whisper hoarsely, “don’t hurt me,” his hand starts to cut off your airflow.

“Don’t fuck with me,” he snarls.

“Not yet,” you croak, winking as you look towards Kiri, “he’s next.”

“That’s right,” laughing harshly Katsuki releases your throat, “it’s his turn.” Slapping his friend on the shoulder he smiles. “Eijiro, time to use that big dick on our girl here and get her so cock drunk, she won’t know which end is fucking up.” Denki bursts through the door with your toy handing it to him. Palming the device, he puts it on the bookcase. “We’ll see how you like Kiri first,” he smirks knowingly. Pushing you roughly down again, his hand lands on your ass with a loud crack.

Pain sings across your skin as you jerk up, pushing you down again, his hand lands on your other ass cheek. Crying out you close your eyes, sucking in a deep breath.

“Those are fucking hot Bakugou,” Kiri fingers the perfect white hand prints outlined in red on each side of your ass.

“That’s right,” Katsuki settles himself in front of you, grabbing your chin, he forces you to look at him. “Daddy’s in fucking charge now and our little girl is gonna cum so hard, she’ll paint your dick white Kiri.” Pointing, he nods at him, “no fucking mercy.” Grinning wide, Eijiro grabs your hips and pushes himself inside you in one thrust.

“F-f-f” you stutter as your pussy spreads wide, painfully full. Thrusting deeper he manages to hit your favorite spot. “N-No,” you stammer as he begins to fuck you hard.

“That’s it,” Bakugou feels your body letting go, your eyes are clouding over. “Look at me,” he locks eyes with you, “Now I know why I've always liked you,” he grins, “you’re such a cocky little slut, would’ve never guessed.” He laughs as your face begins to melt in pleasure. “You rattled me by taking two out at once, but Kiri’s gonna drill you now.”

FOCUS! Your brain is numb but your body responds, wriggling forwards you try finding Kiri’s rhythm, “so big,” you whisper.

“Where’re you going?” Kiri wraps his hands around your waist. “You’re not going anywhere slut,” pulling your body backwards, he relishes in the cries coming from you, your head jerking back at his merciless fucking.

“He's deep in there, huh, baby girl?” Bakugou slides his fingers into your mouth, “suck,” he hisses at you.

Nodding you wrap your lips around his hand, Kiri’s cock is pushing at building the climax at an unrelenting pace. Control! Control! your mind chants, your endless training takes over, you clamp hard with all your muscles at once to slow him down. Timing your squeezing with his thrusts, you begin milking his cock.

“Oh wow,” Kiri’s eyes grow wide, he’s struggling to thrust, stopping he begins to grind in deep instead, he gasps as your pussy begins sliding up and down his cock, starting at the base and moving upwards suckling the tip and back again.

“What?” Bakugou sees his pace change, he looks back at you. “What the fuck’re you doing?”

Tears gather in your eyes, Eijiro’s cock is making you want to forget and just get carried away by the orgasm that’s growing beyond anything you’ve ever felt. Moving your pussy furiously, you continue milking Kiri, your teeth biting down on Bakugou’s fingers still in your mouth.

Tugging his hand from your mouth, he sees the look on Kiri’s face, “don’t fucking cum!” He leaps up to grab him.

Your pussy stretches painfully as Kiri’s cock bulges, YES! Ignoring the pain you move faster, milking with speed now, no more slow strokes. Closing your eyes you work hard as the telltale twitching begins, his fingers gripping painfully into your hips. Katsuki yanks his hand from your mouth, but you’ve got him. Eijiro’s balls, pressed hard against you, start jerking as a loud grunt fills the room. More hot cum fills your pussy, gushing out, dribbling down your leg. Panting hard, you drop to your forearms, letting him go as you relax trying to breathe. “Three,” you can barely talk, you're so close to cumming yourself. You're tired, more than ever, you slide off his spent dick and fall to the floor, swiping at the sweat on your forehead. Your hips thrusting unconsciously as your body is begging for release.

Seeing the look on Bakugou’s face, Kiri grimaces as he sits back. “I’m - I’m sorry, that,” he puts a hand on your ass gently, “she’s,” he grows quiet.

“She’s what?”

“Fucking amazing,” Kiri moves back not making eye contact.

Staring down at you, Katsuki watches as your hips move, you’re close to cumming, closer than you probably think. Katsuki thinks for a moment, you obviously enjoyed Eijiro but you’d still managed to not orgasm, something has to take you over the edge. Lifting his head, he points to the door, “everyone get the fuck out.”

“Hell no!” Denki’s lounging in the chair debating if he should still try to video everything, he wants everyone to hurry up so he can feel your pussy again. “This is better than porn man!” The look that crosses the big blonde’s face makes him jump up. Grabbing his clothes he shoots out the door, “let me know if I’ve gotta fuck toy or if I’m the chump,” he laughs as he goes out the door. Kiri stands unsteadily eyeing Bakugou.

“You sure?” he picks up his pants and slides them on, “I can help-”

“Go!”

“What about her ass?” Sero sighs, he squats down running his hand up your back.

Turning you smile up at him laughing, “if he loses then I’ll still let you fuck my ass.” Sero glances up at his glowering friend.

Leaning closer he smiles conspiratorially, “he loves his balls to be played with, he’ll cum in an instant.” Jumping up, Sero races out the door.

“Damn idiot!” Katsuki roars.

You try to call out thanks but you’re too tired. Instead you turn back and smile at Bakugou, who’s glaring at Sero’s retreating body, “you and I alone?” You're not sure what he’s doing, but the few minutes rest has helped, you’ve caught your breath and managed to tamp down your orgasm as best as possible. Flipping over you catch sight of Katsuki standing over you, his body is powerfully built, you see bruises across his left thigh, probably from football. Your eyes drift to his cock, you wince inwardly, it’s stiff and almost as big as Kiri. “Are you sure you want to be with me by yourself?” You keep your voice confident but you’re worried, Kiri had you at the edge. Sero’s hint might help but considering how you’re feeling you’ll probably cum first. His hand extends towards you, taking it hesitantly, he pulls you to your feet and into his arms.

“You’re the one that slipped away a long time ago,” he kisses your cheek, moving to your ear.

“Am I?” you practically purr as he runs his tongue along the shell of your ear, teasing you.

“Mmmm mmm.”

“Why don’t I believe that?” You tip your head laughing softly. “Are you trying to seduce me into cumming?” His chuckle vibrates against your ear, sending a spray of chills down your arms.

His hands wander over your body, touching lightly, he nuzzles your neck feeling your pulse beating wildly. “I’ve wanted to explore your body for a long time.”

“You have?” Your voice hitches slightly, closing your eyes, his breath is warm as he kisses your neck, his tongue igniting every inch of skin he licks. You’ve wanted to hear and feel him for so long, his touch is maddening, you have to keep it impersonal. “Then fuck me,” you wrap your hand around his silky cock.

Gritting his teeth, he pulls you into a kiss, “not yet,” he sucks at your lips, “I want to check out this body first,” pushing you back on the bed, he hauls you up propping you against the pillows. His mouth works its way down your neck. Listening to your gasps and moans, he follows your sounds as he runs his tongue along your collarbone, nipping at your skin, his rough hands massaging your breasts. Dipping his head, he pulls your nipple into his mouth, biting and sucking.

His hands on your body are too much, you can feel the throbbing tension returning fast, the taut ball tightening under your clit. “No,” you groan, his mouth sucks harder. Clamping your mouth shut you realize he’s reacting to your moans. Holding your breath, you try to keep yourself from making any noise. You try to focus on anything to keep from cumming but it’s just a matter of time, his mouth is stealing every thought from your head. You need him to hurry and just fuck you but even then you could be out of luck.

“That’s it,” Katsuki can see you can barely hold back anymore, you're trying to stay quiet but he can see you’re close. Smiling in his victory, he moves down between your legs, now for the final blow.

“No!” Jerking up, you buck your hips away from him.

“Hold still,” he grabs you tight, his tongue already swiping up your clit. “You taste like cum.” He lifts his head as you sit up grabbing his blonde spikes, your eyes wide.

“Please daddy,” you beg softly pulling out all the stops now, “just fuck me, isn’t that what this about? It’s me against you.” You see him contemplating what you’re proposing. Your exhaustion mixes into your broiling emotions, words start tumbling from your brain. “I - I never stopped liking you,” red eyes register surprise and something else. “I’ve been perfecting my technique for you, all of this time,” weaving your fingers into his hair, you tug, continuing your confession. “I’m really tired and,” you laugh, “close to cumming, so you’re probably gonna win, but let me show off a little bit of what I can do,” your brows raise pleadingly.

Watching you closely Katsuki can tell you’re not bullshitting, sitting up he presses your legs open. “Don’t worry (Y/n), when you lose you can show me all your little tricks, I plan on using you everyday for the next month.”

Dragging his face to yours, you kiss him urgently, “fuck me then right now, please?” You moan in relief as he lines up to slide into you. Never have you wanted anyone so badly. Moving his cock along your pussy, he flicks the tip of his dick against your clit, sending your hips straight off the bed.

“Beg me again,” he pulls away from the kiss to watch you.

Looking into those blazing eyes, you realize he’s dancing on the precipice with you, both so fucking turned on you’re ready to explode. Look only at me, remembering his words, you hold his gaze. “Please, I want you, I want your cock in me daddy,” you squirm your hips but he slaps your thigh.

“Hold still then baby girl.” Sliding his hands under your ass he grabs a pillow and shoves it underneath you. “Gives me the perfect angle for that right spot,” rearing back, he slams deep into you in one thrust. Pausing he closes his eyes, your tight, way fucking tighter than he expected, especially after Kiri’s big cock. Waiting expectantly, he doesn’t feel anything but your soft tight pussy. Licking his fingers he begins to rub your clit expertly.

His cock is so deep you convulse around him, “sh- fu-“ you stammer, the popping jolts under your clit start exploding, your walls clenching tight. You try to relax, calm down. Breathing deep, you use the fluttering of your building orgasm to work to your advantage. Creating a whip-like motion with every clench, you massage his cock from bottom to top, stopping to contract and suckle the tip buried deep inside. Licking your hand you reach down and gently clasp his balls at the same time. A low growl erupts from Katsuki, you feel him bulge inside your pussy. Your body erupts in a shuddering tremble. Bucking your hips you push into him harder. “Kat-”

“What the hell are you doing?” He cuts you off, voice raspy, he can’t focus, his finger stalls as you grip his cock with another incredible squeeze that slides up, feeling like your pussy is sucking on his dick. Grinding against you, he tries to thrust but the pleasure is overwhelming.

His face, just inches above your own, is tense from holding back. Using the last of your strength you clamp around him and begin to twist his cock back and forth, continuing to pulse from base to tip.

“Sh-shit!” His head tips back as he feels the massive pull through his muscles, his balls jerking hard, grabbing your hips he drives hard as thick streams of cum drench your pussy, your cry surprises him as you rear back, body shaking. Falling to his forearms he watches as you writhe in pleasure, his fingers moving again on your clit, “that’s it baby,” he concedes his loss “cum for me.”

The orgasm hits so hard you cry out, your body clenching so tight you feel a cramp snake down your calf, then the deep tremors roll through you, one after another, holding Katuski’s body tight, you press into his chest, his arm wraps around you, finger moving on your clit, his voice echoing in your ear. “Kat?” You look up dazed, completely drained, you sink back into the pillows. “Did I? Did I really win?”

“Uh, (y/n)?” Mina steps into your room, eyeing the clothes strewn on the bed.

“Oh hey Mina,” coming out of your bathroom you fasten your earring. “What’s up, I thought you were going out?”

“I was, but Ochako ended up having an extra spot in her family's cabin in the mountains and invited me up with everyone for the week and,” she pauses and points over her shoulder, “more importantly, why the fuck is half the football team in our living room?”

Giggling you pluck your jacket off the hanger, “it isn’t half the team Mina, just four of them.”

Eyebrows shoot up as she leans out your bedroom door and looks down the hallway. “Okay, why is Bakugou in our apartment?” She glares at you.

“When do you leave for the cabin?” you change the topic.

Blinking for a moment, she shakes her head, “them first.”

“We’re going out,” you shrug and slip past her. Grabbing your arm she spins you around.

“You are going out with all of them?”

“I sure am,” you smile, “just having dinner and maybe a movie. Denki wants to see some strange horror film they’re presenting on campus.”

“Why are you talking like this is no big deal?” She’s whispering loudly. A small cough in the living room interrupts her.

Patting her head, you push your finger on her lips, “because it is no big deal.” Turning around, you smile and walk down the hall as she cautiously follows you. "So," you look at her, "when are you going to the mountains?”

“You’re going somewhere?” Kaminari’s head pops up from looking at his phone.

“I am,” Mina slinks into the room. “I came to grab my bag and say goodbye.” She looks at Bakugou lounging on the sofa before eyeing you again, “can I really leave you alone with them?”

“You can,” pushing yourself between Sero and Katsuki, you run your hands along both their thighs. “We’re just hanging out, I promise.”

Huffing slightly, Mina grabs her suitcase and walks slowly to the front door, “okay, text me if you need anything,” squinting hard at each man, she thins her lips, “I mean anything.”

“See you,” you sigh as she leaves.

“Are you really alone all week?” Katsuki runs his finger along your cheek, he grins as you shiver.

“I guess I am, I didn’t realize she was going too,” Sero lifts you up and slides underneath you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I’m hungry but we could just get delivery.”

Sitting down at your feet, Kiri nudges your legs apart, laying his head on one leg. “The movie doesn’t start for a couple of hours.”

“Wait, are we going to fool around?” Denki jumps up, “I get to go first!”

“Fuck you, you went first last time, I go first,” Kiri pushes up your skirt, nipping at your tender skin.

“I don’t care when I go, but (Y/n) promise me her ass,” Sero nuzzles your neck.

“Hold up,” Katsuki growls at them, keeping his hand pressed on your cheek, twisting his lips, he smirks slightly, “what do you want to do (y/n)?”

Laughing, you catch his hand and kiss his palm, “another bet?”

“No,” his red eyes catch fire, “no more bets, tonight, we’re gonna make you cum.”

“Really?” Your eyes widen.

“Really,” Sero chimes in with Katsuki.

Kiri licks your leg, “absolutely.”

“How many times?” Your voice is hesitant.

Coming up behind you on the sofa, Denki kisses the back of your neck, a thrill slides down your spine. “How many times do you want to cum?”

“Ten,” you blush a deep red, “please, I want to cum ten times.”

“Whatever you say,” pulling you into a deep kiss, Katsuki begins to slide your jacket off your shoulders.

#bakusquad smut #bakusquad x reader #bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #sero hanta x reader #denki x reader #mha smut #mha fanfiction #mha au #aged up characters

2K notes · View notes

transindulgence · 6 months

Note

welcome to tumblr! i LOVED the mike drabble so much… i was wondering if we could have a sequel to where reader takes care of mike themself? :)

part 1 here

(also it’s currently 2:40 am, apologies for any mistakes lmao)

“shhh, you’re okay, you’re okay…” you cooed brushing the curly locks off of your boyfriend’s forehead.

mike shook, holding onto your forearms, lips quivering and thighs shaking gently. “fuck— i can still f- feel it… ohhhh fuck—ah!”

he cried out as your fingers ghosted over his length, teasing up the side of his dick and circling his tip.

even with your gentle ministrations, mike was pushed over the edge for the nth time that night, throwing his head back onto his plush pillow as he wailed.

“you poor thing…” you cooed, voice rich with mock sympathy. mike held your hand in two of his shaky ones, whimpering. “god, you’re so fucking sexy. cumming just from a few grazes of my fingers. god, mike…”

he whined, squeezing his eyes shut as you traced your fingers over the pudge of his lower stomach, weakly holding onto your wrist with a shaky hand.

“you did so good f’me, my good boy.” you kissed his stomach, cleaning up the cum that leaked onto his skin.

mike groaned, watching you with blown out eyes, slightly panting. a smile pulled at his lips at your stream of praise, biting his bottom lip.

“yeah? you like being a good boy? mmm, yeah you do.” you pressed one last kiss right beside his happy trail, before leaning back up to look at his blissed out expression, him nodding bashfully.

“i— i wanna m- make you feel good— please,” mike babbled. you caressed his face, swiping your thumb over the corner of his mouth to clean up his drool.

“shhh, baby. you are making me feel good. c’mere…” you shushed him, holding your arms out for him.

mike rolled over to splay himself into your arms, burying his flushed face into your chest as you rubbed his back. he smiled, looking up at you with those cute brown eyes, a lovesick expression stuck to his face.

“don’t look at me like that,” you giggled, kissing his temple. “might have to start all over if you do.”

mike whimpered, squirming slightly in your arms at the mere thought of remembering how many times he came just that night…

…and he’d love to do it again

-🫒

#🫒#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x reader smut #mike schmidt smut #michael schmidt x reader #michael schmidt x reader smut #michael schmidt smut #nsft #smut

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justagalwhowrites · 3 months

Text

Yearling - Ch. 27: Found

You try to figure out what you want. Joel and Ellie go on patrol.A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-26 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Angst. CLEARLY. It's me. Homophobia. Smut-adjacent. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 11.3k (THIS IS GETTING TO BE A PROBLEM I'M SO SORRY)

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Late August, 2027

“You’re making this hard on purpose,” Ellie’s nose scrunched as she held her guitar.

You laughed.

“Promise, Kiddo, I’m not.”

“Sometimes I really don’t like you, you know,” she grumbled. You snorted. “I’m serious! Swear you make me do shit the hard way because you fucking enjoy watching me struggle…”

“You learn better when you do it yourself and do it the hard way,” you shrugged, leaning back against a post of your porch. You stretched a leg out onto the step below and picked a little at your guitar. “You’ll never learn if I just give you all the answers.”

“Yeah yeah,” she muttered, leaning to the side to add more of her disorganized scrawl to her notebook. “Swear you didn’t have to work this hard at shit…”

“I started a lot younger than you,” you replied, picking up the pace on your guitar and adding slaps and pops, no real rhyme or reason to it, just what your fingers felt like doing. “Everything is easier when you start young. And hey, you’ve got a leg up on any asshole who tries to learn when they’re my age.”

“Because you’re a dinosaur?” She looked up at you from her notebook, a small smirk on her face.

“Nah,” you replied. “They’d been dead like three years when I was born, I’m not THAT old.”

She laughed and went back to her notes as you kept playing, looking out down the path from your yard to the road beyond.

It was sweltering hot and you’d never been more thankful for a breeze or the fact that it was your day off from the stables. The hair that had pulled loose from your braids stuck to your skin and you’d been sweating all day, waking up with your sheets balled up at the foot of your bed and your tank top damp even with the ceiling fan on. You hadn’t even put on jeans that day, throwing on one of the few dresses that had made their way into your closet in the almost two years you’d been in Jackson. The first you’d taken when Maria mentioned seeing one she thought would fit you, not long before things fell apart with Joel. You’d intended to wear it to the Tipsy Bison on a night there was dancing once it was warmer, opening the door to Joel when you were dressed like what your mother would call “a proper lady.” You’d pictured dancing with him, his hand sliding up the inside of your thigh when you sat down to have a drink until you couldn’t take it anymore and you practically dragged him home, riding him with the skirt bunched up around your waist the second you were in the door.

That had never happened. That dress stayed tucked safely away at the back of your closet, not able to bring yourself to part with it and the image of that night with him.

The other dress was perfect for days like today, long and loose and thin cotton that made the oppressive heat of late summer tolerable. Even if Ellie had looked at you like you had two heads when she saw you in the damn thing.

You didn’t mind, though. You were just glad that you had gotten to the point that you liked spending time with Ellie again. That you’d started feeling much of anything at all.

The first month you got back was hazy. You didn’t really leave your house at first, not able to contribute much at the stable and not seeing a reason to move otherwise.

You weren’t entirely sure how many days passed before there was the first knock at your door.

It wasn’t an Ellie knock. The sound didn’t carry her chaotic energy or almost audacious nature. Instead, it was hesitant but sturdy and firm without being forceful or insistent. You stayed flat on your back, staring up at the ceiling of the closet for a minute to see if the knock would come again. It didn’t. You stared at the ceiling a while longer but, eventually, you had to pee. You forced yourself to move and, on your way back from the bathroom, passed your front door. You hesitated for a moment before you went and opened it, to see if whoever knocked had left a note.

On your porch was a box filled with crackers and jerky and fruit and carrots and celery. All things you could eat without needing to cook or, really, do anything at all. You knew it was from Joel, even though it hadn’t sounded like his knock, either. There was no one else who would have brought it because no one else knew why you were locked inside your home. But he was no where to be seen. He didn’t leave a note.

A few days later, you forced yourself to go to the stable to check on the horses. The fillies and the colt weren’t making much progress without you - you’d have to probably start nearly from scratch with them once your arm healed - but you were able to feel somewhat useful, brushing horses down, checking on their hooves to see when they’d need to be shoed, just giving them some love and attention. That helped you feel a little more like yourself.

Ellie started coming by again a few days after that. She showed up one afternoon with a CD and a sandwich from the mess hall, marching into your living room like nothing had happened, complaining about another kid in town and how Joel wasn’t going to let her patrol with anyone but him for a while.

“I could get partnered with Dina but no,” she drew the last word out, sprawled on your couch, rolling her eyes as she did. “The old man is convinced I’m going to drop dead if he’s not looking out for me for five minutes…”

“I’m sure he’ll ease up once he sees how capable you are,” you said, sitting on the loveseat and picking up the CD case she’d brought with her. The Clash this time. “Mick Jones and Joe Strummer, nice choice. Why do you want to go out with Dina, anyway? I thought not everything was about girls…”

“Shut up.”

“Nah.”

You were’t sure if you were really doing better or if you’d just found a way to push the hurt down inside yourself again. You weren’t sure there was a way to recover from this, from the idea that you’d probably never see your child again. Clinging to the possibility felt so necessary but so foolish. You weren’t sure if it was reason or denial but it didn’t really matter. You weren’t sure you could live without that possibility dulling the jagged edges of your grief and pain.

The boxes of food made regular appearances on your porch. You never saw Joel.

When you were close to getting your cast off, Ellie came by your house but didn’t shove her way inside the way she usually did. Instead, she hovered on your porch.

“OK don’t be mad,” she said, a serious look on her face.

“Off to a great start,” you replied.

She glared at you for a second before pressing on.

“Joel sent me with a message,” she said. “He wanted me to tell you that the movie tonight was something called Ever After and that he thought you would like it and that he wasn’t going to be there so you should go. And to not be mad. I think you shouldn’t be mad, too, by the way.”

“Not mad,” you smiled a little. “I just… I don’t know…”

“Come on, Bambi,” Ellie said, dropping some of her pretense now. “Dina’s going with Jesse and I’ve never seen it and I really don’t want to be stuck sitting by them while they suck face.”

You sighed, looking back over your shoulder in the direction of Joel’s house. You found yourself looking that way a lot.

“Alright,” you said after a moment, looking back at Ellie. “I’ll go. But only to save you from your crush…”

“I’m going to ignore that last part and just be happy you’re going,” she said, a little smug. “Even though you’re annoying about it.”

“So annoying,” you agreed, stepping into your boots, turning on the lamp and following her out the door.

It was strangely easy to adjust to being around the people of Jackson again. Ellie gave you something to focus on, busy trying to distract her from the Dina and Jesse acting exactly like you remembered some of your friends in high school acted with their boyfriends.

“What’s this movie about, anyway?” Ellie asked as the two of you settled in toward the back of the room.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen it,” you said. “But I think it was like Cinderella.”

Ellie looked at you and made a face.

“Like the fairy tale.”

“Yup,” you replied. She stared at you and you laughed a little. “What?”

“I’m just trying to picture you liking a fucking fairy tale.”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms as best you could with one in a cast.

“What?” She teased. “Don’t tell me you like some stupid story where love solves everyone’s problems…”

“What’s wrong with that?” Julie, the woman you’d seen a few times at the Tipsy Bison and when she went out on patrol, appeared alongside Ellie, a large bowl of popcorn in her hands.

“It’s bullshit,” Ellie said. “There’s a reason they’re stories for little kids.”

“Maybe you just haven’t loved that way yet,” she smiled a little before nodding to the chair on the other side of you. “Seat taken?”

You hoped you didn’t just stare at her for too long. People didn’t just talk to you in Jackson, not without a reason, let alone try to sit by you. You weren’t entirely sure what to do with it.

“All yours,” you said, tugging your legs in close so she could pass you and sit down. She settled in beside you and smiled, holding out the bowl.

“Thanks,” she said. “Popcorn?”

“Sure,” you said after a moment, taking some with your good hand. “Thank you.”

“Course,” she smiled a little bigger in a lopsided, almost cocky way. “What’s the point of popcorn if you don’t share it?”

The movie was good. You’d only seen it once or twice before the outbreak but you’d liked it then, too. Cinderella was smart and capable, the prince was handsome and kind and you liked to imagine the way life was in that period of time.

“OK so that wasn’t terrible,” Ellie said as you headed out with her and Julie.

“Told you,” you teased a little.

“No one told me that sometimes the girls in fairy tales got to be badasses,” she replied. “I might have liked the stories more then!”

“The girls are always badasses,” Julie said. “They just try to hide it, scares the men otherwise.”

Ellie snorted.

“Sounds right.”

You reached Joel’s. There was a light on in his living room and you felt the familiar tug in you to go inside and join him. Just let yourself in the front door and settle in like it was yours.

“I’m gonna go tell the old man that his taste in movies isn’t totally awful,” Ellie said, heading up the front walk. “Still want help tomorrow at the stable?”

“Stalls ain’t gonna muck themselves,” you replied and held up your still healing arm. “And this isn’t much help.”

“Ugh,” she groaned good naturedly. “Night!”

You watched until she made it to the front door - not that the precaution was really necessary here but it made you feel better - and you turned to Julie, your good hand stuffed in your pocket.

“I’m that way and to the left,” you said. “So…”

“Mind if I join you?” She asked. “Nice night, figure I’ll take the scenic route.”

You looked at her for a moment.

“Sure,” you shrugged. “Not much to see though.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” she smiled one of those lopsided smiles and fell into step beside you, walking a little slower than you and you slowed down to match her pace. You looked ahead. “So, how’ve you been doing? Don’t see you at the Bison much anymore.”

“Fine,” you shrugged. “Just haven’t felt like going out.” You looked over at her and had the passing thought that she was pretty. Young, with long, dark hair and bright eyes and full lips.“How about you?”

“Oh you know,” she waved you off. “Same old, same old. The berries are coming into season though, have you been to check out the orchards and stuff?”

“I’ve ridden past them,” you said. “Haven’t exactly spent time there, though.”

“You should!” She brightened at that, even more than she already was. The two of you came to a stop at your front walk. “Think you’d like it. You should come with me sometime, it’d be fun.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you smiled a little tightly. “This is me, so…”

“Nice place,” she smiled back, looking more genuine than yours felt. “Well, whenever you want to check it out, let me know. Hope to see you around.”

“You too,” you said, standing there awkwardly for a moment before turning and heading up the walk and into your house.

You went to the mess hall the next morning for breakfast. Dinner, too. And soon, your cast was off and you were going there for most meals, even if it was just to grab something to bring home or go to the stables. The food boxes stopped showing up on your porch.

Instead, you’d come back from the stables and find new guitar strings waiting for you there or a CD that you didn’t have or a copy of Titanic on VHS, the one that took two tapes and you had to get up halfway through to change it.

You’d told Joel he should move on. You weren’t sure if you really wanted him to - you doubted you’d be able to stomach seeing him with someone else - but you didn’t want him to be alone, either. You didn’t want to drag him down with you just because you couldn’t separate his past from your own.

“OK so I think I have it,” Ellie said, pulling you out of your head and making your fingers still. “Can you look?”

She shoved the notebook your way and you leaned over your guitar to look at it, fingering the chords but not playing them.

“Yeah,” you said after a minute. “I think that’s probably closer to what you’re looking for, give it a go.”

You pushed the notebook back towards her and she set her guitar on her lap, adjusting it for a second before playing it. You nodded along, watching as she scrunched her face, getting more and more frustrated before she groaned.

“That’s not right either,” she leaned her head back on the post at her back. “Song writing shouldn’t be this hard. This is bullshit.”

“The shit that’s worth doing is hard, kid,” you shrugged. “Why don’t you try thinking about it again for a minute. Do you want it to feel urgent or slow and confident? Both are strong but they’re going to have different vibes.”

She sighed and closed her eyes.

“I don’t know.”

“Well,” you shrugged, settling back with your guitar. “Figure out how you’re feeling and what you want the song to say about it. It’ll come to you.”

You went back to playing as Ellie picked her notebook back up, gnawing on the end of her pen.

“I didn’t know you played!”

You stopped and your head shot up from its place on the post to see Julie standing at the end of your walk, her hands in the pockets of her shorts, her thick hair piled on top of her head, her arms looking sculpted and strong in her tank top.

“Sorry,” she laughed. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Can I come up?”

“Um…”

“Sure!” Ellie said before you had a chance to really think about it. Julie reached over the short fence and unlatched the gate before opening it and coming up to your porch, sitting on the bottom step so she was looking up at you and Ellie.

“Didn’t know there was a guitar club in town,” she said, folding one leg into her chest and looping her arms around her shin. “Don’t stop on my account! What song was that?”

“Oh, that wasn’t anything,” you said, running your fingers up and down the neck of the guitar. “Just… fidgeting, really.”

“Yeah, Bambi is fucking awesome,” Ellie said. “Best guitar player in town, easy.”

“Ellie,” you gave her a look but she ignored you.

“Seriously, you name it and she can probably play it,” she said. “She knows so much about music it’s insane.”

“Not really,” you cut her off. “I just like music so I learned about what I liked, that’s all…”

“Oh bullshit,” Ellie rolled her eyes. “She’s a human juke box, try her.”

“Do you mind?” Julie asked, looking at you with her brows raised. Her eyes were bright green and almost sharp.

“As long as you’re prepared to be disappointed,” you shrugged. “I can try.”

Ellie scoffed and Julie ignored her.

“I remember this song from when I was a kid, just before the outbreak,” she said. “It actually took me a while to track down the name of it after and you might think it’s silly but… I’m With You? Know that one?”

You smiled a little.

“I know that one,” you said, settling the guitar on your lap. “Haven’t tried to play it before, though. Avril’s not really my wheelhouse, so… go easy on me.”

You couldn’t remember exactly how the song started but you remembered the chorus and you remembered a verse from there. The music just trailed off at the end, not really remembering how the song ended either, and you awkwardly drummed your fingers on the body of the guitar when you stopped playing, Ellie and Julie both watching you.

“Right, well,” you said. “Like I said, not really my wheelhouse and…”

“That was fantastic!” Julie cut you off, her broad smile making the freckles on her cheeks rise.

“Told you,” Ellie said. “She’s the best.”

“Well I figured that much,” Julie rolled her eyes a little dramatically but smiled that cocky smile as she did before looking back to you again. “Thanks for letting me put you on the spot.”

“Any time,” you said before you really had a chance to think about it. She smiled a little bigger.

“Hey, so, I hadn’t meant to break up the jam session,” she said. “I was actually coming by to see if you wanted to come with me tomorrow afternoon, I was going to head out to the orchards for a bit. You’re welcome to join, get outside for a bit. It’s nice, promise.”

“Um,” you said for what felt like the millionth time that day, trying to picture the stable schedule. “I think that would work, I have some patrols leaving that morning but should be able to step away for a bit in the afternoon…”

“Perfect,” she said, getting up. “I need to get down to the Bison but I’ll meet you at the stables tomorrow?”

“That’s where I’ll be,” you smiled in a way you hoped was genuine. “Looking forward to it.”

“It’ll be fun,” she said. “I’ll see you then. Bye, Ellie!”

“Bye Julie,” she dragged her name out and gave you a look. You seriously considered kicking her. Julie laughed and started down your walk, only making it halfway to the gate before turning around and walking backwards, looking back at you with her hands in her back pockets.

“Nice dress, by the way,” she said. “It works for you. See you tomorrow!”

You went back to messing with your guitar as you tried to not watch her walk up the lane. Ellie was far less delicate, craning her neck until Julie turned the corner.

She spun to face you and swatted your leg.

“Oh my GOD,” she half whispered, half yelled at you.

“What?” You asked, fingers stilling on the strings.

“That!” She said. “All that fucking flirting!”

“Ellie…”

“Oh come ON,” she cut you off. “You may as well have fucked right on your porch, Jesus Christ…”

“OK I will say this again,” you said, setting your guitar down beside you. “Who is and isn’t between my legs? Not your business.”

“Well that’s just not true,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re the one who fucked Joel and made it my business.” You sighed and went to reply but she held up a hand. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather you two work your shit out and get back together. But if you’re not going to figure it out then you shouldn’t just be miserable and lonely forever and Julie is hot as fuck.”

“Ellie!” You hissed.

“What!” She replied, her brows raised. “She is!”

“Jesus…”

“Just saying!” She said, her hands up in mock surrender. “Julie’s cool. And hot. I think you’d have fun. And you should at least try to have some fun sometimes instead of just being miserable all the time.”

“What if I like being miserable.”

“Just don’t chicken out,” Ellie said, ignoring you and picking up her guitar before getting to her feet. “But I’m getting hungry. Think I’ll go see what the old man is doing for dinner. You’re welcome to come along if you’d rather not be miserable with us…”

“Ellie.”

“Right, right,” she rolled her eyes. “I mean it, fucking go tomorrow. You big chicken.”

“Go home, you little brat,” you replied. She cheerfully flipped you off before heading back toward Joel’s.

You sat on your porch for a while longer, absently playing and watching as the color of the sky slowly shifted from blue to pink to deep, inky black. The darkness seemed to swallow everything, like there wasn’t anything beyond what was right in front of you. But you knew that if you walked far enough, followed the light of the north star, you’d find things beyond what consumed here and now.

It was late when you finally went inside, scrounging in your kitchen for the last of some of what Joel had brought you even though you weren’t particularly hungry. You turned on the stereo and just let whatever CD you’d put in last play, not really paying attention

You found yourself thinking about Julie. About what Ellie said about Julie.

It had been a long time since you’d had a woman flirt with you. You’d been with your fair share of women since the outbreak but flirting hadn’t really been part of it. Marisa was the first woman you’d slept with and, after Savvy came along, you stopped seeking out that kind of connection with men and kept it to strictly women. It just seemed safer. After Marisa, it had always been casual - you didn’t think you could bear another heartbreak like that - and it had always been fairly blunt. You could generally tell if they were interested in letting off some physical steam and, if they were, you had fun for a few days before they moved on.

But things with Julie reminded you of one of your first crushes, a girl who did trick riding on the same circuit as you when you were a girl. You’d first noticed Courtney when you were both 13. She was so beautiful you couldn’t help but stare at her. At first, you’d almost resented her. She was good, damn good, and she was full of charismatic smiles and she dusted glitter across her collarbones that peeked out from the top of her costume. She was exactly who your mother wished you were and, as much as you loved bronc and bull and roping, part of you wanted to be who your mother wanted you to be. You wanted to be satisfied with what she wanted for you and you wanted to be happy being who Courtney was so effortlessly. Life would be simpler and happier if you were content with that and Courtney was proof that life existed. And you wanted it.

You settled for beating her, for a while. Narrowing your eyes at her when you passed her between rounds at competitions, looking her way when you saw your scores narrowly eclipse hers on the board. You loved it. The only thing you wanted more than beating her was her.

Hell if you knew what to do with that.

In hindsight, you weren’t sure she knew, either.

The first time she’d said more than two words to you was when you’d smirked at her as you held the first place trophy. You went to the locker room after the awards ceremony and you had the place almost to yourself, most of the other girls already cleaned out. The third place winner - a girl who’s name you didn’t remember - left and it was just a few seconds later that you heard the door slam into the wall. You looked up to see Courtney stalking over to you. You could see the glitter on her collarbones and her cheeks, her eyes hot and her lips full.

“Want to tell me what the hell your problem is?” She demanded, getting so close to you that you could smell her body spray. It was almost sickly sweet and floral but on her it smelled good. “What did I ever do to you? Why do you hate me so much!”

“I don’t hate you…” you said.

“Could’ve fooled me!” She cut you off.

“Why do you care?” You snapped. “We compete, we’re not friends, who cares if I hate you?”

“I care!” She snapped back.

“Why!”

“Because I like you!” She yelled, breathless. You just blinked at her for a moment as she caught her breath, her eyes drifting to your lips. “I like you and sometimes…”

She didn’t get a chance to finish. Instead, you kissed her.

It was clumsy and deeply uncertain. You’d never kissed anyone before and you had no idea what you were doing, your hands locked tight at your sides as though touching her anywhere at all was against the rules but you were risking it, anyway. Her mouth was warm and soft and it seemed oddly wet even though that made sense when you thought about it.

After a moment you pulled back from her slightly, your eyes wide, not really believing what you’d just done.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your turn to be breathless now. “I… I don’t know…”

“Shut up,” she kissed you that time, pressing you back against the lockers, stretching up to better reach your lips, her body hot on your own. You kissed her back, trying to focus and take in everything. How she tasted, how she smelled, how her costume hugged the slight curve of her waist.

“Courtney!” Her mother’s shrill voice from the hall made her jump away from you and wipe her mouth on the back of her hand. “You about ready honey?”

“One minute!” She called back before turning to you. “Do you have a some paper?”

You just nodded and fumbled in your bag for a notebook. She turned to a random page that happened to have some history notes on it and wrote her name and number at the top. Her handwriting was soft and curved and feminine and you envied that, too. She drew a little heart next to it.

“Call me,” she said, pressing the notebook into your chest. “OK?”

“Yeah,” you said, staring at her. You couldn’t help but stare at her. “Yeah, I will.”

“Good,” she smiled. “See you next time, superstar. Maybe I’ll finish on top then.”

“Courtney!”

“Coming!” She grabbed her bag out of a nearby locker and gave you an almost sly smile before she ran out to meet her mother.

From then on, most of your time with her was flirting. In between rounds at competitions or on the phone when you were far apart, carefully crafting your words so you’d have plausible deniability with your parents but know what the other meant. You wrote each other letters when you were apart, counted the days until you got to see each other again. When you found an empty spot when you were in the same place, you ended up tangled up together, kissing and fumbling against each other, figuring out what seemed to stoke the fires deep inside yourselves in the small moments you could find for just the two of you.

That continued for just over a year when Courtney came to a tournament with a somber expression on her face. You frowned but she gave you a subtle shake of her head as she passed you and you kept quiet. It took a few hours before you were able to get her alone and she told you the truth of it. That her mom had found your letters to her - thankfully not signed so she had no idea who had written them but still obviously from another girl - and had told her daughter that she, unequivocally, would end it.

“But…” you protested, trying not to cry.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice thick. “But… she threatened to send me to one of those camps if I don’t and… I can’t go to that, OK? I can’t, I don’t think I could make it and…”

You held onto her as she cried, her tears making little rivers in the glitter on her skin.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I really… I think I…”

You kissed her before she said it.

“Me too,” you said quietly when you pulled away.

She sniffed and smiled a small smile.

“Maybe in another life, right?”

“Right,” you smiled a little back.

She dried her eyes as best she could and you watched from the stands as she gave the best performance you’d ever seen. You did the opposite. Your routine ended with a full Stroud Layout but your top foot slipped when you were getting into position and you fell off your horse, tumbling over and over yourself in the sand of the arena, the feel of it gritty in your mouth as your head spun when your body finally came to a stop.

You didn’t make the podium and your mother didn’t push you to compete again for a while. You never saw Courtney again.

You weren’t sure how to navigate things with Julie. You weren’t sure what you wanted to navigate with Julie. She was beautiful, yes. And she seemed kind and funny and smart. She seemed like someone you could have fun with and could care about.

But she wasn’t Joel. You weren’t sure you could feel like you felt for him for anyone else. It seemed silly to even try. And if you couldn’t feel like that, what was the point?

You tried to sleep but gave up eventually. After a while, you found the moose carving you’d started when you were out with Joel, looking for Savvy. It was getting closer to being done, though it was still a rough hewn thing. You weren’t sure anyone who didn’t know what it was supposed to be would realize what it was without help. But still, it felt good to make something. You let yourself be absorbed by carving it for a bit, until it felt like you’d shut your mind down enough to sleep. You set the moose down on the nightstand, arranging him so it was like he was watching you sleep, the red splotch from your blood still staining his chest.

You brought him with you to the stables the next day for something to work on when you needed the distraction. Just sitting there with your thoughts when you had downtime seemed like a bad idea.

“You’re gonna tell me all about it, right?” Ellie asked as you gave Shimmer and Ares a final once over that morning.

“I don’t need to tell you every time I hang out with someone,” you replied.

“Whatever,” she said. “Just don’t chicken out. Actually go, you need a social life…”

“What, getting sick of keeping me company all the time?” You teased, handing her the reins.

“Yeah, you’re pretty fucking boring,” she smirked a little. You snorted. “I’m serious though. Promise you’ll go.”

“I’m going,” you said, giving her a gentle shove toward the door. “Get out of here. Be safe on patrol, see you back tonight.”

“Not if you’re at Julie’s you won’t,” she waggled her eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes as you watched her lead her and Joel’s horses out of the stables.

Time dragged until that afternoon and you found yourself feeling oddly nervous, waiting for Julie to come by. You weren’t sure what time she was supposed to get there and, you realized, you didn’t know what to actually expect with any of this.

Yeah, it had felt like flirting. And Ellie seemed sure that it was. But Ellie was a kid and your recent experience in that department was so limited you really knew fuck all about it. What if you’d read the situation completely wrong? What if Julie was just a nice woman who wanted to be friends?

“Hey you,” Julie’s voice surprised you enough that it made you jump, water sloshing over the side of the bucket you were carrying to top off one of the horses. “Shit, I’m sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you…”

“You’re fine,” you said quickly, refilling a waterer and setting the bucket down.

“Now still good?” She asked. “Because I’m not in a rush, today is my day off…”

“Now’s good,” you said quickly, trying not to think too hard about what she was wearing. Her long, lush hair was softly braided and hung over her shoulder, loose strands framing her face. Her shorts were short and her legs were long and sculpted and she wore a few long necklaces that settled into the curve between her breasts. She smiled.

“Great!” She held up a bag you hadn’t noticed before. “Brought snacks. Not that we’ll need much, it’s peak berry season out there. We could eat ourselves sick and not make a dent.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you smiled a little.

“Oh, I intend to,” she smiled back.

Julie led the way out of town, smiling and chatting with the guards at the gate for a moment before heading toward the orchards just east of town.

“So why are you heading out here on your day off?” You asked, looking over at her.

“Well as I think you know, one of my main contributions to the good people of Jackson is tending bar at the Bison,” she smiled. “But that’s because I just really like drinks. I found this old cocktail book when I was a teenager and I just kind of became obsessed, I guess? There was that and these books and magazines that showed what it was like before and I wanted to do that. Have the experience of going to a bar when life was different, you know? And yeah, we make some pretty decent booze here in town - or I think we do, anyway, didn’t really get to try any before - but that’s not all it takes to make a good cocktail. I can’t make a Coke or anything but I can make the syrups and infusions and things. I like to experiment in my spare time so I come out here, pick the supplies I need, and give things a try at home before I bring my ideas into the Bison.”

“Do I get to know what you’re working on?” You asked, brows raised.

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” she smirked. “But I will need a guinea pig before too long if you’re game…”

“Far be it from me to turn down a free drink,” you replied and she smiled bigger.

The orchards were, indeed, beautiful. You followed her to a particularly dense spot and she pulled a blanket out of the bag, spreading it on the ground in the shade of an apple tree.

“I won’t lie,” she said, sitting back on her hands and closing her eyes, taking a deep breath. “This is probably my favorite spot.”

“I can see why,” you nodded, drawing your knees into your chest and looking around. “It’s gorgeous here.”

“It’s quiet here,” she laughed a little. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Jackson. Way better than the QZ we were in when I was a kid. It’s a good place with good people. I love the people, truly, I do. But everyone knows everyone and knows everything about everyone and it’s so hard to have anything for yourself, you know?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “It’s a great place but… it’s definitely a lot.”

You talked a little about your pasts. You told her - vaguely, lightly - about your time before Mitchum. She told you about her time in the Denver QZ and you almost fainted when she said she was only 31 years old.

“How old were you when the world ended?” You gaped at her. “Do you even remember?”

“I was seven,” she laughed. “I remember a bit. How old were you?”

“Older than that,” you replied. “Jesus…”

“Not that old, clearly,” she said, picking a blackberry off a bush and holding it out to you. “This is a good one, you should have it.”

“Old enough,” you replied. “And if it’s good, you should have it.”

“I have them all the time,” she said, stepping close to you. You were suddenly acutely aware of the fact that you were wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing when working with the horses all day and you hoped you didn’t smell. She pressed the berry to your lips. “Try it.”

You obeyed, taking the fruit into your mouth and biting into it, the juice bursting on your tongue.

“See?” She smiled. “Told you.”

The two of you ended up back on the blanket and you stretched out on it, looking up at the clouds drifting lazily past overhead, arms bare - too hot to wear anything more than a tank top - but not feeling overly exposed. Julie lay next to you, her arm brushing your own.

“Is it weird that I sometimes don’t feel like I missed out?” She asked. You felt her adjust next to you and you glanced her way to see her lying on her side, facing you. “I mean I know there was a lot before that we don’t have now but… I dunno, I guess I still wanted to be a ballerina when the world ended. It doesn’t feel like I really gave up all that much, you know?”

“Think that has as much to do with Jackson as anything else,” you replied, adjusting so that you were facing her. “But I get that, in a way. If I’d found Jackson when I was younger, I think I’d feel the same. Shit, what I’m doing now is exactly what I grew up wanting to do. If it wasn’t for all the time in between, the end of the world would have just turned into me getting just what I wanted. Besides all the death anyway.”

“Think you’re right about the Jackson thing,” she smiled a little. “It’s a special place with good people. Like a few better than the others, though.”

“Yeah?”

She reached out and brushed some of the hair that had fallen from your braid back from your face and trailed her fingers down your cheek and your chin.

“Yup.”

She leaned in then, moving slow and holding your gaze, giving you all the time in the world to stop her if you wanted.

You didn’t.

Her kiss was soft and gentle, her lips smooth on yours. She tasted and smelled sweet and her hand went to your hip, tugging you against her.

Julie’s body was softer than you expected as she pressed against you and, in so many ways, she felt safe and comfortable there. But she felt foreign, too. You’d become accustomed to a different form on yours, one that was larger and broader and firmer.

You tried not to think about him as her kiss deepened, as your hand went to her waist and trailed over her side but stopped short of cupping her breast.

She nudged you onto your back and she settled on top of you, her chest pressed tight to yours, her hips starting to rock gently against you. You ran your hands over her back to the top of her ass but didn’t go lower, not able to shake the subtle wrongness of kissing someone and feeling someone who wasn’t Joel.

After a minute, she pulled away from you.

“I get the feeling you’re not as into this as I am,” she said, panting a little. You opened your mouth to argue but she silenced you with a look. “If I misread things, I’m really sorry. But you should know that you don’t have to fuck me just because I’m trying to fuck you.”

“You didn’t misread anything,” you said quickly.

“Good,” she smiled a little. “But… It doesn’t seem like you’re feeling this.”

You winced.

“I don’t know what I’m feeling,” you said. “But… I don’t think I’m feeling what you are.”

“Well shit,” she laughed a little and rolled off you, lying flat on her back beside you. “I really am sorry if I came on too strong or did something you didn’t want…”

You laughed a little.

“Definitely not that,” you said. “Just have… other things on my mind. And you deserve someone’s full attention.”

She turned her head to look at you and you turned yours, too.

“It’s Joel, isn’t it?” She asked. You winced a little. “Sorry, I’m not trying to dig into anything that’s not my business, it just… seemed like you guys split up a while ago so I thought it would be OK. I’m sorry.”

“No, it probably should be,” you said. “It’s got nothing to do with you, trust me.”

“Well,” she said. “At the risk of this being the most awkward hang out ever… want to help me get some raspberries?”

“Sure,” you laughed a little. “I’d like that.”

She smiled.

“Good. Me too.”

It was awkward for a bit, but by the time the two of you started back to Jackson, it was lighter. Easier. Like you’d never kissed at all.

Julie walked with you back to the stables, not too long before you were expecting patrols that weren’t out overnight to return.

“Even with everything today, I hope we can be friends,” she said. “I do actually like you. Not just because I’d like to fuck you.”

You laughed a little.

“Yeah, I’d like that, too,” you said. “I’m sorry I’m not… in the same place on the fucking front…”

“I’d rather pretend we never found that out,” she laughed a little. “Maintain some of the mystery. But, you know. If anything changes, it’s a small town. You know where to find me.”

“That I do,” you said.

She turned to leave but seemed to think better of it and turned back.

“If he’s it for you?” She said. “I think you should figure out a way to make it work. No point in wanting something and acting like you can’t have it when it’s right there, you know? And yeah, it’s not really my business and yeah, I don’t know you all that well but… something tells me you’re not going to be feeling any different anytime soon. And I don’t think he is either. Just… my two cents.”

She smiled and leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Thanks, Julie,” you said quietly. She gave your arm a squeeze.

“See you around, Bambi.”

You watched the door she left through for a few minutes after she was gone before you went back to work.

The patrols all made it back without incident, Ellie returning her and Joel’s horses. She asked how things went but you just waved her off and she deflated a bit.

“I keep trying to get some excitement around here,” she said. “You are no fucking help, you know that?”

“I am so sorry my romantic life isn’t more entertaining,” you said wryly. “I’ll work on that. Entirely for your benefit, of course.”

“Well you’re clearly not going to do it for your own.”

You just rolled your eyes as she headed back home. You stayed late at the stables. Not for any real reason, you just didn’t want to be at home alone and going to the mess hall didn’t sound like what you wanted, either. You worked on the moose carving, pleasantly surprised at the progress you’d made on him.

You ended up working on him until, almost suddenly, you realized he was done. Fully formed - or as close to it as you could get him - with four legs and jagged shapes for the antlers. But he looked like a moose, broad and steady and strong. You turned him over in your hand a few times, running your finger over the arch of his back and the curve of his neck.

“What am I going to do with you?” You said quietly, holding it up in front of you, looking where his eyes would be if he had them. The bloodstain was still crimson on his chest.

After a few minutes, you got up off the floor of the stable and did your final check for the evening before locking up behind you and heading home.

You took the long way.

It was dark but not so late that the Tipsy Bison had closed for the night, a warm glow coming from the windows. With the sun down, you were a little cold with bare arms but you didn’t mind. You walked slowly, watching the stars as you went.

You stopped at the end of Joel’s walk. The lights were out. You thought he probably went to bed early - he got tired after a patrol - but he could be at the Bison, too. Either way…

You all but crept up his walk, holding the moose tightly in your fingers. You stopped at the base of his stairs and held the rough-hewn animal in front of your face again.

“Keep an eye on him for me?” You said quietly to the wood. It didn’t say anything back. You stepped as lightly as you could up the stairs but the same step as always squeaked below you. You set the moose on Joel’s doormat before turning to go, making the step squeak again. You made it almost all the way back up the walk when the lights inside turned on and you picked up the pace.

It didn’t matter. You heard the front door open just as you turned onto the street and your eyes darted over toward him before you could help it.

“Bambi?” He called, not too loud. He was in his blue cotton plaid sleep pants and a black t-shirt that hugged his body just right, tight across his shoulders and upper arms, highlighting the soft curve of his stomach. You stopped for a moment and just gave him a tight smile before continuing on home.

When you went to bed, you found yourself looking at the spot on your nightstand where the moose had been before, part of you wishing he was still beside you.

***

“Hey. Hey Joel.”

Joel smiled a little to himself. He recognized Ellie’s tone.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“Wanna hear a joke about pizza?”

He sighed, trying to sound annoyed. He wasn’t sure if it worked.

“Get the feeling you’re gonna tell me either way.”

“Eh, never mind,” Ellie said, sounding a little put out. Joel looked back at her, frowning slightly. And then she smirked. “It’s too cheesy.”

Joel groaned.

“That one’s bad, baby girl.”

“No it’s not!” She rode up alongside him even though the trail wasn’t really wide enough for that. “That was a good one!”

“Nope,” he shook his head. “It was terrible, three out of 10.”

“Bullshit!”

“What would you give it?” He asked, brows raised. “Because I’m questioning your judgement here…”

“At least a six.”

“No.”

“Yes!” She laughed. “You’ve just got shitty taste, old man.”

“Uh huh,” he laughed. “And what’s that say about you then, hm?”

“Broken clock is right twice a day,” she replied. “You were bound to accidentally do OK every now and then. Will Livingston, however, is right every time.”

“You got that entire book memorized?” He teased lightly. “If not, you gotta be close…”

“I’m getting there,” she said. “Saving the best for last.”

Joel just shook his head a little.

He loved patrolling with Ellie. Even more than he thought he would. It was so much like when he’d first come to know her and care for her. It was a time, he realized now, that made him understand that he could still love. That he had it within himself to care for another person, that he could cope with the fear of loss that came with attachment because Ellie was worth it. He liked spending the time just the two of them and getting to know her better as the young woman she was becoming instead of the little girl he’d come to know years earlier. She’d grown so much, come into her own in a way that was only possible in a place like Jackson. She had friends and hobbies and had become part of the community there. Every day with her was reassurance that he’d done the right thing. That every life he’d taken that day in the hospital was a worthy price to pay.

Joel had left Jackson with Ellie plenty before patrolling with her, back when she was still speaking to him. Before she found out the truth of everything. He’d loved it then, too. But this was different. She was still his baby girl but they were out here as partners, working together to protect the community they both loved. It was a glimpse of the future they had, one where their lives moved along side by side and he got to watch her find her place and fall in love and have a family of her own and just be happy as herself.

They were only a day out from Jackson now, heading in from a three day long patrol. It was Ellie’s first overnight patrol and she’d been so excited for it, even as she tried to pretend like she wasn’t. The days before they left town, Ellie was over at his house every night, going over the list of what she should bring and looking over the map. She’d lit up when he said they could bring a guitar, something else that made Joel smile.

It had been more than a month since she’d gotten him back into playing, showing up at his house with a guitar and saying she wanted his opinion on something. She played American Girl, one of his favorites, and set the guitar down when she was done.

“That was amazing, baby girl,” he’d said, more than a little in awe of her. “Where did you learn that?”

“Bambi,” she replied. “But do you think it’d sound better with two? I feel like it would. But you’re the musician so…”

It was an obvious ploy but it made him smile a little. The idea that Ellie would do that much to make him play again. That you’d help her.

“It might,” he said, getting up to get his instrument. “Let’s give it a try.”

Joel tried to not think of you too much. He usually failed. But he was getting better at not drowning in the memories of you, of not letting the loss of you consume him.

It helped that he’d found a way to care for you while respecting the distance you wanted. He couldn’t bring himself to just abandon you, not when he had a sense of how much you were hurting. So he brought you food. Selfishly, it served two purposes. It meant you were, hopefully, eating something. But it also meant he knew that you were still alive. That he could leave a box on your porch, walk by a few hours later, and see that it was gone. He could check on you without forcing you to talk to him and that eased the steady drumbeat of worry inside him.

When he heard you were back at the stables, he shifted from things you needed to things you would want. He brought you the things he found that made him think of you, things he’d have given you when he came home to you in another life.

It also helped that he knew you thought of him, too. At least occasionally, enough that you’d left the carving you’d made on his porch a few weeks before. He thought he was hearing things when the first squeak woke him up from his place on the couch, but then the step squeaked a second time and he was sure he heard it. He’d thought it might be Ellie, needing something but not necessarily wanting to say it. He hadn’t expected to see you heading down the street, the first glimpse of you he’d had in so long. Your arm was out of the cast and you looked good. A bit thinner than you’d been the last time he’d seen you but still good. Still beautiful, still soft with sharp edges. Still what he wanted to sink into and wrap himself up in every chance he got. He picked the moose up and brought it inside, tracing the outline of its frame for a moment. You’d finished it. It was rough, you were clearly a beginner, but you’d finished it and given it to him. His thumb brushed the wound on its heart, where you’d bled. Before he really thought better of it, he brought the figure to his lips and kissed it gently before setting it on the side table and turning out the lights.

The two of you were set to leave Jackson again in just a week, another gap in the patrol schedule that you could leverage to search for Savvy now that you were healed. He hoped this search led somewhere. He couldn’t imagine what it was like, living like that, not knowing what happened to your child. The closest he’d come was the torturous time that Ellie was with the monsters who’d taken her in Silver Lake. He was so frantic, so terrified of what he’d find but even more terrified of never finding it to begin with. He needed to save her, protect her. But if he couldn’t do that, he needed to know what happened to her. He needed to know who to destroy before he destroyed himself for letting it happen. Living in that for years would be unbearable.

“Hey Joel?”

He could hear the frown in her voice.

“Yeah Baby Girl?” He looked over his shoulder, Ellie and Shimmer falling behind him again now that the trail had narrowed further. She stopped and so did he.

“That’s something we should be watching for, right?” She nodded toward something off the trail, a small frown on her face. Joel followed where she was looking and he froze in his saddle.

It took an eagle eye to spot it, just brush amongst brush, but it shocked him when he saw it. The gentle arch of a sapling, stretching down toward the ground, held there with rope.

“Yeah,” he said. “It is. Stay with the horses.”

“But…”

“Just one second,” he said, dismounting and going for the trap, trying desperately not to get his hopes up but his heart was racing. It was a common set up for a trap. It could be anyone’s.

This trap was far fresher than the one he’d found with you, the dirt where the pin and been put in the ground still disturbed. The trap itself was still baited and the pins were smooth, almost artistically carved. It hadn’t been here long. He looked around quickly, looking for some indication of where the person who set this trap might have gone. It took some doing - whoever it was covered their tracks well - but he found it, the edge of a boot print.

He went back to his horse and mounted up.

“Ellie,” he said, voice serious. “Need you to listen to me, OK?”

“OK,” she frowned. “Joel, you’re acting weird…”

“We’re gonna track someone,” he said. “But when we find them, need you to not shoot them until we talk to them, OK? And… and if its a teenaged girl, need you to not shoot them even if she pulls a gun on me, OK?”

“A teenaged… Joel, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Just trust me,” he said. “Please.”

He started with the boot print and found little hints of someone moving through the brush from there. Disturbed leaves, a splotch of dirt that looked misplaced, a small branch that had snagged on another when something about human height passed below it.

“Joel,” Ellie said after they’d been tracking for about 20 minutes.

“Still looking,” he said gently. “It’s OK…”

He heard something rustle down low up ahead and he adjusted Ares’ path to check on it. He didn’t need to go far, the source of the sound only about 100 feet away and next to a large rock. Standing there, beside to a large horse and a large dog, was a girl. She was a little taller than Ellie, with gangly arms and legs, a rifle held high in her hands.

“Stop right there!” She said, her voice sharp with a familiar southern twang. The dog moved in front of her, getting down low and bearing its teeth. “Don’t wanna shoot you but I will. You can move right along, this spot’s taken.”

Joel lifted his hands and caught a glimpse of Ellie raising a gun next to him.

“Ellie!” He said sharply. She looked at him, eyes wide. “Gun down. Now.”

“But…”

“Now.”

She huffed but lowered the gun slowly, her eyes back on the girl in front of her.

“Won’t shoot you in the back,” the girl said. “Just turn around and go.”

Joel fought to focus. The girl in front of him… she looked like Sarah, so so much like Sarah. The same shock of curly hair, same brown skin, same bright eyes. If he didn’t know better, he’d think they were sisters. He fought to stay here, in the forest with Ellie, not getting swallowed by his own memories. He’d found her. He was all but certain of that now, he’d found her and he was going to bring her back to you.

“You out here on your own?” He asked gently, his hands said up.

“Don’t see how that’s any business of yours,” she said sharply. “All that matters to you is that I will kill you, don’t try me.”

“I understand,” he said. “Not going to hurt you…”

“Bullshit.”

“We’re not,” Ellie snapped.

“Ellie.”

“What!” She said. “Joel, I swear, if she shoots you…”

“Remember what I said,” he replied.

“But…”

“I mean it,” he cut her off. “Don’t, OK?”

He turned back to the girl.

“Not going to hurt you,” he said again. “Just… just hear me out for just a second, OK? We’re from a settlement, about a day’s ride from here…”

“Good for you,” she said. “Better head that way then.”

“It’s a good place,” he said, ignoring her. “With good people. Including… including your mama, I think.”

Her eyes went a little wide and she lowered the gun ever so slightly. He caught a glimpse of Ellie’s head whipping around to look at him but he kept his eyes on the girl.

“Your name’s Savannah, right?” He pressed on. “Your mom, she calls you Savvy, right?”

She raised the gun again.

“How’d you know that,” snapped. “You one of the assholes that took her? That it? What, you kill her? Get her to tell you about me first? That what happened?”

“No honey,” Joel said, his throat tight. He’d found her, he’d found your daughter. “No, she… she escaped them, few years back. She got hurt real bad doin’ it, we brought her in, got her fixed up and she stayed. She’s been looking for you but she’s still there…”

“Why should I trust you?” She snapped. “Why should I believe a damn thing you say?”

“Because I know her,” he said. “Been helping her look for you. She’s… I know her. She trains horses, guessin’ she trained the one you’ve got? She trained the one I’m on, too. She runs our stable for us, she…”

“Bambi?” Ellie gaped at him. “Bambi’s her mom? Bambi has…”

“Ellie,” Joel said again, cutting her off and looking back at Savvy.

“She’s there,” he said. “She misses you, she misses you so much. Told me how you liked to read to the horses when you were little. How the dogs liked you better than her. How you’re real good at carving… Recognized your trap, found another one of yours a few months back. She told me how your pins are always smooth and even… Let us take you back with us. Won’t take your guns, just… just come back with us. Please. She misses you so much, she’s been so worried…”

“We’re not people to be afraid of,” Ellie said and Joel glanced her way. She was looking at Savvy now, her face serious. “Well, as long as you’re not an asshole. I know Joel seems scary but he’s not. Promise. He’s safe.”

She lowered the gun slowly, looking between the two of them before looking down at the dog.

“Gattling,” she said. “Heel.”

The dog dropped its defensive stance and went alongside her, looking up and waiting for a command. She looked back at Joel and Ellie.

“You really know my mom?” She asked quietly. “She’s… she’s really alive?”

“She is,” Joel nodded, lowering his hands to the saddle horn. There was a knot in his throat. “And we can take you to her. Please.”

She hesitated for a moment.

“She teaches me stuff about music,” Ellie said quickly. “How to play some stuff on guitar, too, but more about music in general. She’s cool. Really. I’m… I’m sure she wants to see you again. And Jackson’s nice. And so are we. Just come along, OK?”

She took a deep breath, looking down at the dog for a moment, adjusting her grip on the rifle.

“OK.”

***

“She’s in rare fucking form this week,” Olivia said, watching as you steadied Persephone, one of the fillies you were working with.

“She’s just got an independent streak,” you said, the horse’s feet stomping impatiently in the dirt. “That’s OK. I get that. So do the best of us, right?”

She huffed and jerked her large head. You smiled a little.

“You’re sure she’s not gonna throw you?” Olivia asked, sounding a little worried.

“No,” you shrugged. “But I’ve gotten thrown off horses before, nothin’ new. Only way to break her is to break her, no point in stalling. You in a good spot?”

“Think so,” she said, stepping a little further back from the horse as you got ready to mount her.

“Then let’s go,” you said, all but jumping onto Persephone’s back. You barely got your foot in the stirrups before she started really bucking, Olivia moving even further away. You clutched the reins in one hand and let your hips go loose, digging your heels down toward the earth to stay seated. You let your body move with her as she hurled herself through the air, desperate to dislodge you. But you weren’t going anywhere. She gave you a good shake that made you grab the back of the saddle but otherwise, she didn’t get anywhere close to throwing you. After a while, she started to calm, her movements still sharp and harsh but closer to the earth, her hooves staying on the ground more often than not. Eventually, she mostly stilled, just tossing her head and huffing indignantly.

“See?” You said soothingly, reaching forward to pat her neck. “That’s my good girl, you did so well…”

“Bambi,” Olivia said, catching your eye. She nodded toward the gate to the paddock and you frowned a little before you followed her gaze.

Standing there was Joel and Ellie, their reins in their hands. But between them was a girl. She was young, a teenager, with springy curls and brown skin and wide, soft eyes.

You knew those eyes. You knew those eyes and that hair and that skin. For a moment, the world shrank to a small point centered on her and you wondered if, maybe, you’d finally lost your mind. If something had finally broken so thoroughly that you were seeing things.

But you weren’t. She was here. Your daughter was alive and she was here, in Jackson.

“Savvy,” you breathed and Persephone bucked below you. You weren’t paying attention to the horse and you flew off her back and into the dirt, landing with a brain rattling thud. You didn’t care.

You scrambled to your feet, throwing a glance back at Olivia to make sure she had Persephone so Savvy wouldn’t get hurt, and ran for her.

“Mom,” she said, her voice thick as you reached her and pulled her into yourself. You clutched her to your chest until you thought you could feel her heartbeat alongside yours, clinging to her too close to even kiss her or look at her but you needed to feel the life in her first, soak up the vitality of her before someone took it away.

“You’re alive,” you managed, voice thick. You buried your nose and mouth in her hair, breathing her in. “You’re alive, you’re here, you’re OK, you’re…”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she said wetly and you pulled back from her just enough to look at her. Tears slipped down her cheeks and she sniffed as you took her face in your hands. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, I thought you were gone, I…”

“I’m so sorry baby,” you kissed her forehead before pulling her against you again and clinging to her. “I’m so sorry I let you go, I’m so sorry I didn’t get to you, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“It’s OK Mom,” she said, her hands holding your elbows. “I’m OK, it’s OK, I promise…”

You just held on to her, trying to memorize everything about her that you could. That she was taller now, that her shape had changed, that it seemed like she hadn’t had a chance to really grow into her limbs yet.

You looked up at Joel who was still there, his eyes wet, watching you hold your daughter.

“You found her,” you said softly.

He just nodded.

“Found her,” he said. “Couldn’t have without you, though. With everything you told me about her, was able to find her.”

You just nodded, running your hand down the back of her head as you held her.

“Thank you, Joel,” you whispered, holding her so tight that you were worried you might hurt her but too afraid that she’d slip away to stop. “Thank you.”

Next Chapter

A/N: AHHHH SAVVY'S HERE!!!!

And Joel found her. I'm so happy that Bambi has her baby back, for real. Things are getting there. I promise.

Thanks so much for reading and sticking with this story! Don't forget that you can get updates on my updates blog here.

Love you!!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123@ashleyfilm

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #yearling #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc

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auteurdelabre · 2 months

Text

A Little Sun Part 3.1 - Dieter!Bravo x f!Reader

part one / part two

rating: 18+ (MINORS GET OUTTA HERE OR I'M TELLIN' YOUR MAMAS)

Story Summary: As a PA to megastar and mega man-child Dieter Bravo you've had your fair share of headaches. Getting accidentally pregnant with his baby however takes the cake, especially when he offers to pay you to be his surrogate. You just weren't expecting to fall in love with him along the way.

tags: Surrogacy, Pregnancy, Body changes re: pregnancy, Mutual Pining, Idiots in love, P in V, Dirty talk, Unprotected Sex, Romance, Oral (f receiving), Cigarettes, Drugs, Mentions of Parental Death, Vulnerable Dieter, Vulnerable Reader.

a/n: y'all I'm really annoyed because tumblr won't let me post the entire chapter in one post because of whatever reason. So if you wanna read it all in one go, I'm posting it to my A03.

dividers by @silkholland

A LITTLE SUN

You burst into the house, kicking off your shoes and throwing your purse down onto the couch. Dieter looks up from his place on the chaise longue by the fireplace.

"What?"

"Some old guy in the coffee shop overheard I was pregnant and he told me that I shouldn't drink decaf coffee and then he touched my fucking stomach."

"What?" Dieter is immediately on his feet, fists curling. A strange feeling has passed over him, this protective and strangely possessive feeling. You're his. You're carrying his baby.

"Yeah and I was in such shock that I just let him. I fucking hate this," you say pressing your lips together tightly as you exhale through your nose. "As soon as your pregnant people suddenly feel like they have the right to touch you and give you unsolicited advice. It's so gross."

"I'm sorry," Dieter says, fighting the urge to touch your stomach himself.

It's barely even three months and you're not showing. He hasn't actually touched you anywhere other than your hand since that first time he cradled your stomach.

You see the way his dark eyes dart from your stomach to your face and back again. Can see the twitching in his fingertips as he thinks about it.

"You can touch it," you tell him. "You won't feel anything but you can touch it."

Dieter is immediately at your side, his wide hand going to your belly. You'd expected him to go over the shirt so when his hand slides up your t-shirt to rest over your bare skin you're surprised.

You go to say something but you still when you see his face. His eyes are closed, brows saddled in concentration. It's impossibly sweet. And there's something comforting about his warm palm on your skin, a feeling you can't quite place.

"Wish I could feel him moving."

"Won't be for a few months yet," you tell him.

Dieter gives a thoughtful hum in response. His thumb slowly drags across your skin and you feel your breathing hitch for a moment. Up close you see the length of his dark lashes, the fullness of his mouth. Has he always been this handsome? Or is it the hormones?

You pull his hand from under your shirt. "Okay that's enough."

“I said I am.”

“I never see you with it.”

“Jesus, Dieter! Do you want me to pull it out of my room?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”

You storm into your bedroom, grabbing the yellow object from beside your bed and bringing it back into the living room where your boss/surrogate benefactor is waiting with his arms crossed.

“I told you, I put it on my belly every night. The baby hears your fucking Bravo mix tape every goddam night.”

“Every single night?” Dieter says disbelief. “What about Friday? You came home super late from that PA after works drink thing.”

“Dieter it was eleven when I got in,” you say rolling your eyes. “Besides, I don’t think the baby will suffer if it misses one or two-“

“I KNEW IT!” Dieter shouts animatedly. “You did skip a few days!”

In all honesty you’ve skipped plenty of days. Wearing those stupid fucking headphones over your belly is uncomfortable and boring as shit. You always read when you wear them because sleeping on your back is something you want to save for when you have no other choice. But lately you’ve been more tired and reading has been swapped for more sleeping.

Dieter looks beside himself as he begins pacing up and down the hallway, muttering to himself about being lied to. You recognize the signs almost immediately, shocked you overlooked them so easily before. Dieter is anxious. While most curl into or sequester themselves away, Dieter has always been a ball of anxiety that lashes out, fixating on everything other than himself.

“Dieter.”

“What?”

“What are you anxious about?”

Dieter pauses, face contorted into a defensive pose, lower lip stuck out. You almost hear his petulant: I’m not anxious. But the longer he stares at you the longer he realizes that you know him better than most. He just shakes his head, unable to formulate what has his insides doing a tap dance.

“I know something’s wrong,” you tell him as you shuffle over to him and he’s relieved and thankful to see there’s no animosity there in the depth of your eyes. Without thinking you reach out and take one of his hands in yours and he notes your palm is freezing.

“Nothing,” he mutters to himself. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

He sees the hurt pass over your face for a fraction for a second and he’s quick to clasp your hand tightly. “Is that okay?”

“Of course,” you say, retracting your hand. “Why don’t you go in the studio and paint for a bit? Enjoy your day off.”

Dieter nods, padding off to his workspace while you give a sigh. You can tell something is up with him, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. It makes you ache for him in a way, knowing that he’s holding something so close to the chest. Normally he tells you everything.

By four months you need to fuck something.

Toys aren't cutting it. You need a good fucking. You’ve decided that Josh will be a nice choice. You two have been fooling around a bit on set when you’re not being ordered around by Dieter who suddenly seems to need you every second you’re there.

So far it’s all over the pants stuff with Josh; mostly because you’re paranoid he’ll see your bare stomach and declare you pregnant. You don’t know why this concerns you, you don’t even look pregnant. Maybe a slightly swollen quality, but only you or Dieter (or your Mom!) would know the difference.

He doesn’t like you hanging around Josh and you can only assume it’s because Dieter doesn’t like to share his toys. You’re having his baby and so in his mind he gets to dictate everything. It’s fucking driving you insane.

You decide to approach Dieter about it directly, not wanting to bother the lawyer with this sort of thing. It seems embarrassing to have to go about it in this fashion, almost as if you have to ask permission for something quite personal. But this scenario is new and you’re not exactly what’s within the realm of appropriate.

You find him painting in one of the rooms, cigarette hanging out of his mouth as he listens to some strange grunge band from Japan. You lower the volume as you enter.

"Can we talk?"

Dieter turns, brows raised. "What's up?"

You look nervous, face warm and your fingers nervously drumming at your side.

"Dieter, we uh, we never talked about one thing in the contract."

Dieter lowers the paintbrush, going to the sink to wash his hands as he waits for you to continue.

"What's that?'

Fuck you feel awkward about this. How do you mention to your boss that you wanna go get laid? Your cheeks are heating and you nudge your toe absently against the doorframe.

"Uh, if it was okay if I wanted to go out with someone?"

"You want to date someone?" Dieter looks horrified, the cigarette dropping from his gaped mouth onto the floor. He retrieves it quickly, tossing it into the sink behind him before turning back to fix you with a glare. "I've known you for two years and you've gone on maybe three dates in all that time. Now you're pregnant and suddenly you want a boyfriend?"

"Not a boyfriend," you say quietly. "Just uh... a…"

"A hook-up?"

"Yeah."

"No fucking way!" Dieter insists much too forcefully for a man who tries to continually convince himself that he doesn’t want to fuck you himself. "Too dangerous! You could end up with a creep! What about the baby?!"

You roll your eyes. "Obviously I would be careful."

"No," Dieter shakes his head. "Too risky. What if they find out you work for me and ransom you?"

“It’s some-“ you stop yourself from giving too much away. “It’s not risky. I feel safe about it.”

“Well I don’t.”

A stand off about who you can fuck. Is this a joke?

"Dieter I'm really just giving you a heads up as a courtesy," you say icily. "You don’t control what goes in my vagina.”

Dieter blinks back his surprise a moment. You’ve never spoken to him like that. He can only assume that this is pregnancy hormones so he lets it slide. However, he’s still irritated about that annoying Josh hanging all over you. You turn to walk away from him.

"Well then as your boss," Dieter bites back, "I'm telling you that you can't fuck your little PA friend."

You stop your walking, turning to face him with a face contorted in rage.

"What?"

"You think I'm blind?" Dieter scoffs as he lights a fresh cigarette. "You think I don’t see you and that PA Josh making eyes at each other?”

You hate how he says PA, like Josh is pathetic for having the very job you yourself have. Not shocking – has Dieter ever really seen you as more than an extension of himself? More than the woman who plans his days and picks up his dry cleaning? Never.

"Dieter who else is there? He's the only single, straight guy near my age in this town!”

Dieter just stares at you, the end of his cigarette a red flare in the semi darkness. You throw up your hands in irritation, giving a growl and walking into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

///

BabiEDucate

15 weeks

Cravings: DICK. Also pickles - Related?

Missing: SEX. GETTING FUCKED.

You try not to let the sex thing override the rest of your enjoyment of this beautiful land. Ireland is stunning from the moment you wake up until you go to bed. You’ve met the nicest people on set, you and the makeup girls go to the pub every Friday. You always order for the group and you always lie and say you’re having a rum and coke, but it’s really just a coke.

You think about inviting Josh over here tonight. So far it's been frantic kissing against pub walls and one remarkably disappointing phone sex experience that left you more frustrated than anything.

You're just so paranoid he's going to be able to tell you're pregnant that you've been holding back.

Plus there’s the whole Dieter thing.

“Mia and Dieter are working on a night scene tomorrow night,” Josh murmurs to you as you hang to the side one afternoon on set. You’re both hidden away from the actors who had broken for lunch. “Should give us plenty of time if we want to hang out.”

“Hang out?” you say with a flirtatious smirk up at him. “Is that what the kids are calling it?”

“Fucking your brains out then?” Josh huffs against your ear as goosebumps rise along your neck.

“Sounds great,” you nod.

“Let’s go to yours,” Josh suggests. “Mia and the crew are at some fancy hotel and they’ve all got big mouths. Dieter’s the big movie star with his own rental.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow at seven.”

///

Everything you own is ugly.

Plus you have a headache. Plus you look bloated and your tits fucking ache. You pull at the tights and cute babydoll dress you threw on hours ago because it was the only thing you owned that sort of hides the growing expansion of your midsection and isn’t sweatpants. You look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, applying some lip-gloss before sighing.

All this work just to get laid.

You look down at your stomach, frowning as you mutter quietly. “You’re already a pain in the ass and you’re barely bigger than a bell pepper.”

You give a roll of your eyes at yourself in the mirror before flicking off the lights and heading back out to the kitchen. Josh sits there with a beer giving you an expectant smile as you approach.

Dinner was nice enough (he brought thai food), the conversation free-flowing. You told Josh you didn’t want to drink since you had a bit of a migraine. Not a total lie. He brought you flowers, which is incredibly kind and also annoying because you’ll have to hide them in your room lest Dieter see them.

But you don’t want flowers and wine and seduction. You thought you’d already laid the groundwork for that. But here Josh is trying to ask questions about your family and life back home and all you can think about is the minutes ticking by where you’re not getting fucked.

“Let’s move to the couch,” you suggest casually. “I think I have a documentary on sharks recorded.”

“Yeah, lets,” Josh says smiling eagerly.

There we go.

Within minutes the two of you are on the couch making out. Josh has one leg between yours, his hands on either side of your face. He’s muttering something about how good you feel but you’re distracted, concerned that he can feel your stomach.

You wonder if you could suggest doggy style. That's the only position you think could work where he wouldn't see your stomach. You thought about passing it off as a food baby, but you don't want to take the chance.

He urges your hand to keep palming him through his jeans as he kisses you. He tastes like the wine he brought and the mints Dieter leaves laying around everywhere. Your hand goes there, feeling his length and sighing. You can’t wait to feel him inside you.

“You want daddy to give you more?” Josh hums against your lips before his tongue invades your mouth.

Daddy? Ugh. Mood killer.

"You gonna-"

Whatever Josh was about to say dies on his tongue as the door to the cottage opens. Dieter’s head swings around just in time to see Josh's hand covering yours on the vee of his jeans, your bodies practically melded together.

"Get out," Dieter barks, his eyes wild. He literally races over to you both on the couch, glowering over Josh like an overprotective father. “Get away from her.”

Josh pulls away from you instantly, his entire face blanching. You reach for Josh as he stands abruptly. He's all mumbling apologies, pulling on his jacket and brushing past a very confused Mia who has just come in.

"What the fuck?" You say struggling to a stand. Your belly makes you go off kilter and you shake off Dieter's hand as he steadies you.

"What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking it was my night off and I wanted to enjoy it!" You explain angrily. "And you just chased off my date!"

"Your date?" Dieter looks beside himself with agitation. "Since when? We had an agreement!"

“Agreement? You mean order!”

You throw your hands up, wanting to punch Dieter squarely in the jaw. Instead you simply shake your head and shoulder past him to go to your bedroom. He tries calling your name but you ignore him, slamming the bedroom door behind you.

Mia watches this scene, her large eyes curious. "Dieter what am I missing here?"

"Huh?" Dieter whirls around in a spin. "Nothing."

"Then why did you just scare off my assistant?"

"Because I …He … She’s not..." Dieter waves his hand in the air, trying to explain himself. "I don't want my assistant fucking around with yours."

"Why?"

"It's not professional," Dieter insists, his face gloomy. "What if it got back to set?"

"I don't think they'd care," Mia laughs softly. "Are you just perhaps a bit overprotective of her?"

"Yes."

"Because of the baby?"

"Because- wait, what?"

Mia brings her jacket off her shoulders, hanging it up. "I'm a woman, Dieter. I have sisters. I know a pregnant woman when I see it."

Dieter pauses, considering what to say. He recalls Diane's instructions before you left for Ireland.

"Yeah she's pregnant. She's religious so she's keeping it but she doesn't want anyone to know," Dieter explains.

"Oh," Mia nods.

"I just don't want her hurt." Dieter tries to look sorrowful. "I've known her for a while and yeah, I guess I don't want anyone messing with her. I don't really know Josh or his intentions. I don’t want things to get messy."

"I totally get it," Mia says placing a hand to his forearm. "That's so sweet of you to care about your staff like that."

Dieter shrugs, smiling softly.

"I'll tell Josh to back off," Mia promises.

"Thanks," Dieter says warmly. "I'd appreciate that."

“You still wanna practice those lines for tomorrow?” Mia asks gently, her eyes warm as she glances at the bottle of wine Josh brought. “I see they left some wine.”

“Yeah,” Dieter smiles. “That sounds perfect.”

Josh isn't returning your calls anymore. When you see him on set he's totally polite but there's no more flirting, no more stolen kisses. You figure after the embarrassment of the other evening he’s steering clear of getting caught up in that mess. You can’t blame him. But you miss the attention, you miss the thrill.

In a few short months you won’t be able to hide that you’re pregnant and then after you give birth you’ll need months for recovery before you’re willing to put yourself back out on the dating scene.

Not that you were that big on the dating scene to begin with. If it wasn’t school it was working for Dieter. You had a few flings, a few whirlwind romances that left your body sated but your mind craving more. You try touching yourself in the bath or in the shower, in your bed. Nothing is working. There’s something primal about another person touching you that your hormones are craving.

You and Dieter haven’t spoken about that night with Josh since it happened. You had no desire to rehash the humiliation and in all honesty, you were wrong to do it here in a home that is more Dieter’s than it is yours. You should have gone to Josh’s if you wanted privacy, but you’d been so horny you hadn’t realized that.

You’re still dutiful in his scheduling and a week later the two of you are heading into Dublin so Dieter can have an on-air interview with a popular Irish radio personality. He’s nervous about it, tapping his fingers along his bouncing knee in the back of the limo they sent.

“So steer clear of politics obviously,” you say as you tap onto the tablet reading the notes Diane sent. “Diane says that she’ll be out here next week to go over your interview strategies for Graham Norton. Apparently you’re flying over there for an overnight.”

“I assume you’ll be hanging back for that,” Dieter says flatly.

“Yeah, you don’t need both me and Diane for that one.”

Dieter doesn’t know why but the thought of you fucking Josh is stuck in his brain. Someone Dieter has seen you growing closer to during your time here in Ireland when your attention should be on him. He’s Dieter Bravo – He’s rich, famous, an Oscar winner, the father of the baby you carry! What the fuck makes Josh worth your attention? Dieter sees the secret smiles when Josh texts you, sees you distracted on set. It fucking infuriates him.

“Gives you a whole two days to fuck your little PA friend while I’m gone.”

Dieter is shooting you an open sneer and you feel your entire body heating up. That’s it. You’ve tried to be civil and even apologetic but this is getting ridiculous. You throw the tablet on the car seat between the two of you, your nostrils flaring.

“You don’t get to tell me who I go to bed with,” you growl, noting the way Dieter’s eyes widen in surprise at your tone. “I'm tired you thinking you control everything about me because I happen to be carrying your kid.”

You glance up belatedly hoping that the driver can’t hear you through the plastic divider separating the front from the back of the vehicle before your eyes are back on the increasingly red-faced Dieter.

“I’m my own person, Dieter. And yes, I will carry this child, and yes I will do so with love and care. But as for whom I fuck? That’s not your business.”

You don’t bother telling him that Josh is off the table. That you heard yesterday that he’s started seeing some girl from costumes. You don’t bother telling Dieter that there’s no one in the quiet hamlet that you actually want to fuck. He doesn’t need to know that.

Dieter continues to stare at you, shocked at the vitriol coming from you. He’s seen you irritated and even angry, but right now you seem borderline frenzied. Your cheeks are red and your eyes are bright and you’re almost snarling.

He’s turned on out of his mind.

He crosses his legs to hide his growing length, clearing his throat and praying you don’t notice the flush rising to his cheeks.

You throw yourself back into your seat, eyes out the window. You’re breathing quickly, still furious about all of this. You wish there was another man on set that you’d like to have take you to bed but there’s no attraction for anyone else. Josh was the only one who appealed to you and without him your only solution is the men down at the pub (all pensioners or gay) or your own fingers which really don’t do the job.

Dieter watches you, struck by his own increasing insecurity. He’d rather you fuck anyone else here. Someone whose texts don’t make you smile down at your phone. Someone who doesn’t distract you during movie nights with Dieter. A nobody.

"I know that what I'm asking might sound unfair," Dieter finally offers quietly. "So I'll pay someone. Someone reputable and clean from one of the services here."

It takes you a moment to realize what he's offering and when you do you turn to face him, outraged.

"I'm not sleeping with an escort! I’ve never paid for sex I’m not about to start now.”

"Fine,” Dieter shrugs. “I'll get you whatever toy you want."

"I have toys. Toys aren't doing the job," you admit with a sigh before your face flushes at the admittance. You don't tell him that you've worn out the batteries beyond charging on all. That the toys aren’t what you crave. It’s the touch of a man, his heartbeat under your palm, the sweaty tangled mess under sheets that your body craves.

But Dieter doesn’t understand this; he’s still trying to come up with a solution to your problem that won’t make him feel like shit.

"Then I'll-"

"I need sex, Dieter!" You interrupt in frustration. "All these fucking hormones are making me so... I-I just need a cock to come on!”

The minute the words escape you Dieter’s already dark eyes seem to turn black. He slowly inches over to you in that bouncing, jerky way of his, crawling over the seat until he reaches your. You don't know what he's doing, but you don't stop him when his hand comes to the curve of your belly.

You hold in a whimper at the sensation of his warm palm through the fabric of your shirt. His hands are wide but you've never noticed just how big they are. His head tilts forth, his forehead gently pressing against yours. Your eyes flutter to focus on his full mouth.

"You're taking care of my baby," Dieter offers in a husky whisper. "So I'll take care of you."

His free hand slowly moves to wrap around the back of your neck, barely touching you.

"That's a terrible idea," you breathe, your voice holding no conviction.

"We did it before," Dieter reasons.

"We don't even remember it."

"So let's make a memory," Dieter murmurs, his eyes on your mouth now.

“We’re here Mister Bravo,” comes the voice of the driver from the front of the town car.

Fuck.

The ride back from the radio interview is tense. Dieter managed to be professional, even charming with the hosts. And while he did that you managed to get a few emails checked, interviews organized and wardrobe fittings scheduled.

But the promise of what he started in the limo only hours before weighs heavily on you both. You feel it’s massively inappropriate given that he’s your boss. He’s paranoid he’s overstepped and scared you off so he doesn’t want to make another move.

So the two of you look out opposite windows, studiously ignoring one another until you return back to the rental. Dieter practically flings himself from the limo, tossing a wave at the driver over his shoulder as you roll your eyes and follow him inside.

The house is quiet, the light of the day dimming. You’re too tired for a walk today so you quickly shower and pull on your softest sleep shorts and t-shirt. You pull on your fuzzy robe and slippers and pad out to the kitchen to make yourself a tea. Dieter is already there boiling the water, his hair damp from his own shower. The two of you exchange tight smiles before you go over to the television, switching it on.

“I think there’s a doc about Patagonia,” Dieter calls over to you. “Wanna watch it together?”

“Sure.”

You hate that the thought of it makes your heart jump. The man that is usually so annoying to you is suddenly so fucking enticing you want to jump him right now. You want to fist your hand through his damp curls and ride him until he’s whimpering.

Fucking hormones.

You wonder if Dieter is good in bed. You've heard plenty of thankful refrains from his closed bedroom door but that might just be to stroke his ego.

You don’t remember your time with him and so the only context you have is when you walked in on him when you thought he was alone and you were desperate to go over some of the errands he had asked of you earlier in the week.What you'd found was Dieter lying in bed, one arm behind his head as a lithe blonde man with a scruffy beard went down on him. Dieters hand was carding through the man's hair, pulling his mouth further along his impressive cock.

"That's right," Dieter murmured, eyes closed. "Take it all like a good boy. Swallow it down."

You'd quickly closed the door shut, the man's moans echoing behind you thankful you'd not been seen. For some reason that image had stayed with you since then. You don't know if it's because it was two men or because Dieter was so commanding or because it was something you weren't supposed to see.

But when you think of Dieter and fucking him, it's this memory that floods your senses... And your panties. Like right now as you sit next to him trying to ignore the proximity of his body to yours.

“Want popcorn?”

“Nah, I’m okay.”

“Tea?”

“No I’m fine. Do you want tea?”

“No, I’m good.”

It’s like a middle school dance. The two of you sitting stiffly next to each other, both pretending to ignore the obvious desire there, both too scared of what will happen next. You’re desperate to focus on Patagonia but you can’t. Your boss smells so good and looks so good and he’s rolled up his sleeves so his forearms are bare and his hands are so fucking big. You imagine them everywhere on your body before you force yourself to find a distraction.

“I never asked you about your tattoos,” you say as your eyes runs over the inky triangle closest to you on his forearm. “Why triangles?”

“I guess I really like pizza,” Dieter smirks.

And suddenly all the tension is gone from the moment, replaced with the familiarity of his humor. You let your head tilt back as you let out a guffaw, pushing his arm affectionately. He swings it around your shoulders as he watches your eyes crinkling as you laugh loudly, feeling his chest swell. He loves it when he can make you laugh like that; unguarded.

And in that moment he knows he wants more. He wants to make you feel good. He wants to feel you and be able to remember it the next day.

As you wipe amused tears from your eyes you feel Dieter leaning towards you, his hand on your shoulder, tilting you in his direction ever so slightly.

You don’t pull away.

In fact you let the giggles ebb, but you don’t move from his nearness. Your faces are so close he can feel your warm breath huffing over his parted mouth. You smell like soap from the shower and earl grey tea. He watches your eyes go to his mouth and then slowly move back to meet his gaze.

Why isn’t he kissing me?

You want him to kiss you.

But he’s just sitting there, arms around you; face so close you can see the density of his eyelashes. The two of you sit there breathing slowly into one anothers mouths and it dawns on you that Dieter is waiting for you. Impossibly erratic, impulsive Dieter Bravo is waiting to see if this is truly what you want.

You need to make the first move.

For some reason that's what prompts your head to tilt towards him, your mouth gently landing against his. Your hands go to his shoulder, holding tightly.

He kisses you gently at first, head spinning at how good it feels. He doesn't know if it's because this is the longest he's been sober in years or because it's you. Whatever the reason, it makes him wrap his arms around your waist, licking into your mouth as you whimper.

Fuck he kisses well.

"This is a terrible idea," you tell him even as you begin to pull at the drawstring of his sweatpants.

"Completely," he says, running his palms along your upper arms.

"Need you to fuck me hard, Bravo."

"Anything you want."

"This is just a way to g-get some release," you tell him as his mouth goes to your neck and you groan.

"Mhmmm."

You try to remember what you were going to say but his tongue is slowly dragging along your jaw before he's planting sloppy kisses down your neck.

"J-just this one time," you groan when his hands come to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over the stiffened peaks of your breasts overtop your nightclothes.

"You sure? What about if you need it again?" Dieter hums, hands sliding up under your sleep shirt to find your breasts warm and heavy in his hands. He makes a soft sound of pleasure as he kneads them.

"We c-can't," you whimper, eyes closing. His mouth is so soft and warm and it leaves every piece of your body it touches electric.

"Sure we can," he murmurs. "We make the rules."

"The contract," you offer weakly as his fingers gently pinch each nipple tightly until you gasp. Dieter can’t look away from your saddled brows and the way you arch into him.

"Didn't say anything about this," Dieter whispers against your mouth. You kiss him now, urgent and needy and he groans as he licks into your mouth.

"I want you to enjoy this," Dieter purrs.

"I'll enjoy it," you tell him, hands still fumbling with the drawstring of his sweatpants.

You'll enjoy any sex at this point. You just need a quick, hard, fuck and you'll be back to your normal focused self (well, plus pregnant). You're startled when Dieter takes your wrists, pulling them from his waist. You frown up at him.

"What're you-"

Dieter gives you a playful smirk and drops to his knees beside the sofa and between your legs. Your eyes blow open in shock as he tugs your sleep shorts down from under your sleep shirt and tosses them over his shoulder. They land somewhere on the floor, forgotten. You don't even have time to be embarrassed at being half naked in front of him, your boss, because he immediately drags one thigh over his broad shoulder.

"Amazing," he murmurs, eyes fixed on your glistening sex.

"You don't have to-"

"Don't have to make you feel good?" Dieter scoffs up at you. "No wonder you weren't in a rush to fuck. All your other boyfriends must have been pitiful in bed."

You're about to answer sharply when Dieters mouth descends. His hands grip the back of your thighs and you feel him lick a stripe up the seam of your drenched cunt.

"Fuck!"

Dieter grins against your pussy at the sound. He looks up to see your eyes wide and fixed on him kneeling there between your legs. You’re slumped on the sofa, looking at him with flushed cheeks and heavy eyes and Dieter feels himself groan at the sight.

You try to distract yourself from the burning in your thighs and the sudden nakedness you feel when you see the moonlight is shining on Dieter’s mouth between your legs.

“Dieter anyone could see.”

“We’re a million miles away from anyone else,” he tells you, voice muffled. But he stops when he senses that you’re suddenly no longer interested in this, at least not in out here while the TV plays a documentary on Patagonia in the background. He leans forward,pressing glossy kisses up your belly until he’s caged you in with his arms against the sofa. He sees the pupils blown wide in your eyes and he can’t help himself from kissing you senseless. You taste yourself on him and it makes your ardor grow.

With a patience he didn't even know he truly possessed, Dieter leads you to his bedroom by the hand, weaving through the furniture in the semi darkness. He’s so hard he’s fucking throbbing, the scent of you clinging to his face and driving him wild.

He watches you clamor onto his bed, eyes watching his face in anticipation. Despite the fact that you run most of his life, tonight it’s Dieter that will be taking the lead. To his surprise you submit, watching him with a nervous look as he crawls onto the bed next to you, still wearing his threadbare t-shirt and soft sweatpants.

You wait for him to start roughly, to take what he wants. You think of his hands on the back of that man’s head, the way he’d thrust lazily into his mouth. You wait for Dieter to take take take as he always does in all things.

But he’s not rushing, he’s watching you closely.

Because he's sober during sex for the first time in years and he's so aware of how this potentially changes things between the two of you. His hands are trembling when he reaches for you. For you this is release, Dieter is a human sex toy for you to derive pleasure from. Dieter knows and accepts this.

But you're not that to him.

And even though he can't recall that night the two of your shared that created the life you now carry, he knows that he never treated you like it. He’s never thought of you as just sexual release, not then, not now, not ever.

He watches you on the bed, hands reaching for him. “Dieter please.”

He moves towards the mattress, knees hitting the edge before his large hands come to slide your sleep shirt up your belly, notching it just under your breasts when he sees your concern at it rising higher.

"Lean back baby mama," Dieter grins down at you as he kisses his way down your swelled stomach, his mouth soft and wet. "Gonna make you feel so good."

"We don't have to- I just wanna get fucked," you explain, still feeling awkward at the thought of your boss going down on you.

"Without being warmed up?" Dieter squints at you in confusion before placing a kiss to the soft of your pussy. "That's not how I do things. You need to come before you get this cock."

You hate how those words from him are enough to have you whimpering.

You watch him with eyes heavy lidded as he spreads your thighs widely for him, hooking them over his broad shoulders. Only now that you're opened so fully to him does he look at your sex and give a tortured moan.

"Such a pretty pussy," he breathes, nose nudging your clit as he begins to give your cunt a sloppy kiss. "So wet already baby. This all for me?"

You don't reply to him and he doesn't wait for your response. But the answer is clear when arousal continues as his tongue begins to delve deeply between your folds. His tongue and mouth immediately begin working at a frantic pace between your legs as he holds you against his face. It isn't long before you're arching into him, holding him by his wild curls.

His wide hands hold your thighs to his shoulders, pinning you open so he can taste you. You hear murmurs of "so fucking sweet" and "so good for me, baby" and each rasping word hits you directly below your navel.

When his tongue flicks your clit and then he begins sucking it's game over. You feel it building in your core and you let out a gentle whimper. Dieter’s eyes fly open at the sound, gaze fixed on your pleasured face contoured in pleasure at your approaching climax.

Your hands are twisted in the sheets and he can see how every muscle in your body is tightened. You’re in awe at how wrong your initial assessment of his sexual prowess was. Dieter Bravo is not a selfish lover.

He's fucking insatiable.

"C'mon, baby," Dieters voice is low and syrupy between his licks and kisses. "Let go for me."

You weren't expecting it to feel this good. Weren't expecting Dieters voice to go that low and raspy. Weren't expecting that just his tongue and fingers could hit so deep, so well.

"I need you to come on my tongue."

There's something in the almost way he says it that has your thighs tightening around his ears, back arching violently off the bed.

"I'm... I'm-c-coming!"

You dissolve underneath his tongue, pelvis thrusting harshly against his greedy mouth. You cry out his name over and over, eyes damp with relieved tears at the tension that is slowly leaving your body.

When you come, Dieter looks up the length of your body, taking in your glassy eyes and flushed cheeks as you float down from your high. You give a soft sigh that ends in a groan. You want more.

"I knew it," he groans, eyes shuttering as he watches you shatter. "I fucking knew it."

You lay quaking in the aftershocks as Dieter crawls up the length of your body, dragging a loving palm over your belly as he does. You're not even sure he realizes he's doing it.

"What did you know?" You pant, hands clutching the sheets as you come down from your pleasured high. His face is inches from yours, dark eyes glittering.

"The face you make when you come," Dieter rasps, eyes mapping your flushed face. "I knew it was gonna ruin me."

His mouth crashes into yours before you can reply and despite your insistence to yourself that this remain platonic, your arms are already snaking around his neck. You're dropping your jaw open so he can lick into your mouth and you hear your own desperate moans echoing against his in the quiet room.

"Fuck me," you croak against his mouth. "Hard."

He pulls back eagerly, stumbling to a stand beside the bed and nearly tripping in his rush to take off his pants and shirt. Finally he stands curls askew from taking off his t-shirt in a rush.

He places his knee on the bed and you can't help but be impressed with the size of him. No wonder he has so many repeat bedroom visitors. Between that and his tongue is a marvel he has time to leave his bed at all.

"You ready?"

"Yes," you pant, hating how desperate you sound as your hands reach for him, eagerly shifting your hips and smiling at him. He lays himself next to you on his side.

“Oh shit, a condom-“ Dieter starts with a frown. “I think I have some-“

"You're clean?"

"Yeah,” Dieter says with quirked brows. “Haven't fucked anyone since you."

You're shocked by this announcement. “Mia?”

Dieter shakes his head, cheeks pinking. You sense the moment slipping from you and you shake off the voice that tells you the lines are blurring. Right now all you want is to feel Dieter inside of you.

“Fuck me bare,” you tell him, mouth on his.

“Really?”

“S’not like I can get more pregnant.”

Dieter chuckles gently, his hand coming to cup your cheek as his tongue slips into your mouth. You taste him, every crevice as he does the same to you, needing to feel every piece of you that you keep hidden. As he does he trails a finger lazily against your inner thigh, knuckles brushing against the warmth of your core.

"You still want this?" he murmurs pulling back to see your eyes.

"Yeah," you nod eagerly, already missing the sensation of his lips on yours. You curl into him. He still stares at you, only now he looks nervous.

"You want me?"

There's something in the way Dieter's voice catches at that last word. Almost as if it's fighting to get out of his throat. Your eyes latch to his and you see the vulnerability there, the way he looks so unsure even as you hold to him.

"Yeah, Dieter," you finally say quietly. "I want you."

The relief is so clear as his mouth finds yours again. He kisses you deeply, tongues dabbing at one another as he urges you onto your back.

"Fuck, I can't believe we're finally doing this," he rasps against your jaw, pressing damp kisses there. "Gonna make you feel so good."

His fingers trail at the seam of your cunt, teasing but you bat them away. He gives you a confused look.

"I need your cock," you tell him breathlessly, hitching your thighs around his hips and urging his cock to your entrance.

This isn't what he normally does. He likes his female partners to be multiple orgasms deep before he fucks them. He's large and he doesn't want to hurt you.

"Please," you whisper and now you're cunt is shifting towards the head of his cock, urging him inside.

He gives a small groan and before he can second guess you request he's slowly sliding into you to the hilt. The feeling of Dieter entering you is exquisite, the stretch not too bad because he's already made you come.

Your entire body arches under him at the divine sensation, the way he fills you so achingly full. You hiss in pleasure, gripping his shoulders so tightly you leave half moon crests temporarily tattooed on them.

Dieter stares at you as he enters you, his mouth hanging open as the delicious sensation of your cunt envelops him. Warm and slick and so fucking good. You wrap around him like you were made for him, like you were both built to fit perfectly together. It makes him give out a strangled gurgle when he sheaths himself to the hilt.

"Holy fuck."

"So good," you moan without thought. You're normally not a vocal lover, but no one has made you feel this good just at entering you.

"Yeah?" Dieter asks you with a proud grin as his hips begin to rock into you. "You like feeling me deep, huh?"

"Yes," you nod, biting your lower lip. "Want you even deeper."

Your thighs drop open further and now you're hands slither down his side until you’re gripping his ass, urging him to fuck harder and deeper.

"So eager," Dieter rasps not even bothering to hide his delight. You're eager for him. He nuzzles your cheek, grazing a kiss there. "You’re trembling, baby. You needed this didn't you? Needed my cock so badly."

"Uh huh."

Fuck you're so pliant, so goddam agreeable right now under him that it makes Dieter heady. You're never so soft with him in real life. You'd never admit to needing him outside this moment. Dieter realizes right then and there that being inside you bare is better than any drug, any drink.

"You like fucking an Oscar winner, sweet thing?"

You momentarily break from your pleasured haze to give him a look that clearly reads your disdain for this particular dirty talk. In all the bliss you've been experiencing with him, you'd momentarily forgotten who Dieter Bravo is.

Dieter is an ego maniac, a man who loves to talk about himself, an actor who gets told how amazing he is by everyone, so you really shouldn't be that surprised that he'd bring up his accolades during sex. However that's about the least sexy thing about him right now

"Does that usually work?"

"Huh?" Dieter's eyes are glassy as his cock saws in and out of you. "Does what work?"

"Reminding your bed partners that you're an Oscar winner?"

He looks at the derision in your gaze and swallows embarrassed. "Sometimes."

You see the sheepish look cross his features.

"Why say it?"

"I guess…to impress them." Dieter gives a crooked grin. "To seduce them... Or whatever .."

"You don't need to impress me or seduce me," you tell him firmly, your hips jutting as you increase his pace. "This is a transaction, Dieter. All I need from you is your cock and for you to fuck me deep."

Dieter grins weakly again and watches as your eyes shut, hands moving to either side of your head against the pillow and he begins thrusting anew. Dieter loves that he doesn't have to wear a condom with you. He's rarely gone bareback - always paranoid about accidental pregnancy or a lying partner. The sweet clench on his bare cock has his brain fuzzy.

Dieter can't fight the need to inhale you at that moment. Your soap, your perfume, your skin. Everything tantalizes him, making his mouth water. His nose buries itself in the hair at your temple and he breathes deeply. Coconut. Vanilla. And something something uniquely you that he can't quite place.

Having you like this is a dream, one he didn't realize he's been harboring for much longer than when you first slept together.

"Need to hear those noises again," Dieter groans against your temple. "Need to feel your cunt squeeze me when you come."

His mouth is filthy and you're shocked at how much it turns you on to hear it. His voice is so low, so gravely is almost a purr.

"You gonna soak my cock, baby?"

"Yes," you mewl, eyes tightly shut as your bodies rock against one another.

"Yeah you are," he says with affection.

He wants so desperately to push your t-shirt up and see the rest of you naked and bouncing. But he'll take what you offer without complaint. His hips shift forward again and again, your thighs spread wide for him so he can access you as deeply as possible.

"Harder," you beg brokenly. "Please… fuck me harder."

He acquiesces immediately with a grunt, hands coming to pin your wrists to the mattress above your head as he fucks into you, hips moving brutally against yours. He can see the swell of your breasts bouncing under the soft cotton of your t-shirt, watches the way your eyes roll back and hears the strange throaty babbling that emerges from you.

"So fu ... So dee.. Fuck... Good.... Don't st... Gonna... Gonna..."

Each word is punched out with every thrust from Dieter. He feels sweat beginning to bead at his temples but nothing distracts him from his pursuits.

You're close, he knows by the way your own hips begin to circle his and then finally they still as you begin pulsing around his length.

At the first sound of your cry and the feeling of your cunt milking him, Dieter feels his own release erupt from him.

“You’re so good, so fucking good,” he groans before he grunts out your name as he gives one final thrust and then stills. He groans as he spends himself deep within you before he collapses on top of you, head against your shoulder.

"Fuck." Dieter says slowly. "That was....that was good right?"

"More than good," you say honestly before brushing back your sweaty hair from your forehead. "Thank you."

You go to sit up and leave but Dieter is already pulling you towards him, wedging a leg between yours and nestling his face in the crook of your neck.

“Just stay a moment.”

You want to extricate yourself, to remind him that this was all just for release. But he’s so warm and he smells so good and you feel so good and the room is so warm . . .

You wake up a few hours later to Dieter’s hand gently rubbing your stomach over your sleep shirt. You give a soft yawn and he looks your face on the pillow next to his. He wonders if all men feel like this when they’ve gotten a woman pregnant. This fierce protectiveness, this open desire that makes him want to hold you and never let go.

You look beautiful right now, sleepy and sensual as you give a soft stretch. He feels your torso shift and thinks about the miracle under his fingertips. Creating life.

"He's gonna be a Saggitarius."

"Huh?"

"My son," Dieter tells you. "Doctor says he'll be born December twelfth, remember? That makes him a Saggitarius."

"So?"

"So that's good because I'm a Libra. So we're a good personality match. He's gonna be independent though. Wonder if he'll go into the family business," Dieter muses looking at your belly. "What are you?"

"A woman who doesn't think that star placements affect my future," you say with your eyes closed, mouth curled into a bemused smirk.

"He'll be here just in time for Christmas," Dieter says dreamily. "Can you imagine how cute he'll be in front of the Christmas tree?"

"Not really," you say briskly. "I'll be recovering from pushing a watermelon-sized being out of my body. I'm thinking a beach somewhere with lots of alcohol."

"You're not going to be here?" Dieter says, feeling a strange panic bubbling inside him. "Not even for the first few days?"

"You paid me to be your surrogate, Dieter," you tell him flatly. "Not your nanny."

"I just figured you'd stick around for a bit," Dieter mutters.

“I'm gonna go to an all inclusive somewhere. Just relax for two weeks in the sunshine, get hammered, ho-."

You stop. You'd been about to say "hook up" but something makes you pause. When you'd first thought about life post birth you'd kinda just assumed that it would be running away to an island to celebrate the whole thing being behind you. But now, thoughts of some warm vacation away from Dieter and your baby seems... Hollow.

Not your baby. Stop thinking like that.

You glance over to see Dieter, his face impassive. You think that maybe, just maybe you could stay a few days. Just to get the baby settled. That would be kind of you. Yes, that works.

"I guess I could stay the first week it comes home- er to your home," you tell him.

Dieter nearly jumps off the bed in excitement. "Really?"

You shrug. "Won't be able to move much anyway."

Dieter can't help himself, his hands go to your neck, holding you before his lips come crashing into yours. You hate how you don't even pause before returning the kiss with cheeks flushed as he takes them in his hands, his eyes soft on yours.

When he kisses you again it feels slower, deeper. And when you urge him on top of you again, your thighs parting automatically, he slides into you like he just kissed you. Slow and deep until the two of you are shuddering against one another, your dual moans a symphony in the quiet house.

Cravings

bananas

pizza

pretzels

independence from boss who will not stop sending insane baby related texts at all hours of the day

Missing

personal space

sushi

not barfing

Baby is size of turnip.

Dieter’s mood continues to vacillate in the coming weeks. Some days he’s bouncing up and down, cooing at your belly behind closed doors and talking about the future. Other days he’s withdrawn, spending hours in his art room or running through his lines alone in his bedroom.

You wonder if it’s the withdrawal from drugs. You haven’t seen your employer indulging in anything more than red wine at dinner and you wonder if it’s taking its toll on him. You decide he needs a distraction, something fun. You also sort of want to pay him back for… well… helping you out.

You take a look at his schedule and after a few phone calls you go to his art room on morning he has off, giving a soft knock. His voice is muffled but irritable through the closed door. He’s blasting music that he turns down.

“What?”

“I have a surprise for you,” you tell him grinning through the door. Almost immediately you hear the padding of socked feet and he pulls the door open, a cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth, his eyes wide like a child’s.

“A surprise?”

“Yep,” you nod with a smile. “A special treat.”

He wastes no time in running a comb through his hair (at your insistence), popping a piece of gum in his mouth and pulling on his oversized jacket before following you out of the house and into the waiting town car.

“What’s the treat?” he asks the second the vehicle begins to move.

“Be patient,” you say with a teasing grin. “It’s about a two hour drive to Dublin.”

“Two hours?” Dieter throws himself back in his seat as if this is the cruellest form of punishment. “Do I get a hint?”

You mull this over as the green outside the window sails by. “Mmm… Green.”

“Green?”

“Yep.”

“The fuck?”

“That’s all you get.”

“What kind of clue is ‘green’ when we’re in fucking Ireland?”

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see,” you tell him. “Now I have some work I have to do, why don’t you go on your phone or take a nap or something.”

“You sure you’ve never had kids?” Dieter muses sarcastically. “Sure sound like one.”

You give him a warning look before going back to responding to emails about a photo shoot happening next month. You pull into Dublin a few hours later, glancing sideways when Dieter shifts and begins speaking.

"I miss going to the movies as a regular person," Dieter tells you, eyes hidden behind sunglasses as you drive by the theatre. "Used to be the only place that made me happy."

Dieter tells you a lot, but his childhood is a topic he usually stays away from. You lower your phone, giving him your full attention. "Really?"

"Yeah," he nods. "When I was a kid we didn't have a ton of money. But my mom always saved up enough for me to go to see a movie."

He misses his Mom a lot. It’s clear in the wistful way he talks about her. It reminds you that the two of you share a connection, one you both wish you didn’t. Parents gone too soon, taken, ripped from your families but never your hearts.

You don’t have to lower his sunglasses to know his eyes are misty as he thinks of her. You reach across the seat and wrap your fingers around his wide hand. You want this day to be a good one for him, you want him to be happy.

“What’s your favorite drink in the whole world?”

Dieter comes back to himself, glancing at you over his sunglasses. “Easy, whiskey.”

“Exactly,” you say smiling. “And what kind?”

“Jameson.”

You nod, watching the green building slowly coming into view. You motion to it out the window with a soft "voila" grinning as Dieters eyes grow wide.

"Jameson distillery...Private tour for one Dieter Bravo," you tell him proudly. "Turns out the owner is a big Cliff Beasts fan."

Dieter is leaning over your lap to see more of the building, his warm chest on your thighs.

"Are you serious?"

He's looking at the logo glowing on the sign, eyes taking in the double doors before smiling in shock at you.

"Yep. Now be on your best behavior," you tell him bringing out the phone. "I'll be back in three hours-"

"Fuck that," Dieter scoffs. "You're coming with me. This'll be way more fun with someone else."

"Dieter, I can't even drink."

"I'll drink enough for the two of u-"

"Incorrect," you cut him off officiously. "You promised Diane you weren’t getting wasted anymore. So today you can to enjoy the tour and the whiskey tasting, maybe buy a hat, but that's it."

"But-"

"Don't make me regret doing something nice, Bravo," you warn him and a warm smile crosses his face as he nods.

"Yes ma'am."

"Alright, let's go in." You shuffle on your seat to the door. “Now we only have three hours inside so make sure you don’t wander off, got it?”

“Got it.” Dieter is squirming excitedly so much he reminds you of a puppy, all big eyes and wagging tail. You roll your eyes in amusement before you duck out of the car with him, telling the driver to please return in three hours.

“Sunglasses,” you murmur, handing them to him. He slips them on, tugging up the hood of his jacket. Without warning he takes your hand in his, clasping tightly. “Don’t wanna get separated,” he explains. You don’t fight him on it, instead you grip him back and nod.

Dieter doesn't let go of your hand until you're both inside staring up at the chandelier made of whisky bottles. The place is busy, but its midday and most are so distracted by their own adventure that they don't even notice Dieter as you two walk in.

"Holy shit," Dieter says and even though you can't see his eyes you know they're wide with excitement.

The wraparound bar has descriptive titles like floral, vanilla, smooth above empty shot glasses begging to be filled. Dieter reads the board talking about the various things to see.

"I wanna do the cask drawing," he says, rocking back in his shoes excitedly. "And the blending class."

"We can do it all," you promise him, absently tapping his elbow to keep him moving. "C'mon, we're looking for a Peter Connor."

You sail past a group just starting their tour, your feet slapping the slate floor. Dieter is awestruck, looking at everything like a wondrous child until you come upon what looks to be the owner, a grey haired man with big ears.

"Peter Connor?" You ask, pulling out the email correspondence between the two of you. "I'm the one who-"

"Mister Bravo?" Peter says with his Irish lilt the second he sees him, his eyes wide. "I was just sayin' to me wife that it was a feckin' miracle you bein' in Dublin since we just finished yer latest Cliff Beast film. Is there any hope of an autograph for the wife an' me?"

Dieter is all charm and smiles, shaking the man's hand and chatting back and forth before signing autographs and you taking a few photos of them.

"I didn't know you were married," Peter says, shaking you hand warmly before you realize what he's said.

"Oh no," you say quickly. "Just his PA."

"My mistake," Peter says ducking his head. "Well if you'll be followin' me I've got a special tour planned. Your assistant here told me how much ye love Jameson, Mister Bravo."

"I do," Dieter says grinning. It's the only whisky I drink."

"Aye, as it should be."

The private tour goes off without a hitch and you find yourself fascinated by the varied history of Jameson whiskey.

When it comes to the tasting Peter your tour guide goes to pass you your flight but you stop him.

"None for me, thanks."

"Ye can't be comin' through Jameson and not tryin' a drop," he cajoles. Normally you'd come up with a lie or laugh along with him. But you're tired from the drive and walking while pregnant so you just shrug.

"Unless medical advice has changed in the last fifty years I don't think introducing my unborn child to whiskey in the womb is exactly wise."

Peter is immediately all smiles, looking at your stomach.

"Are ye' in the family way then?" He smiles. "What a blessin'. Is this yer first?"

And last.

"Yeah," you nod, not wanting more attention than necessary. Dieter is watching all of this at your elbow, eyes on your face.

"I wish ye and yer little one nothin' but blue skies and long healthy days and that you'll both be rich in blessins."

"Thank you."

Dieter sees it before you do, Peter's hand reaching forward to gently pat your stomach. He remembers the horror you feel at strangers grabbing your body and he quickly wraps his arm around your waist, guiding you towards the next flight of whiskey being brought out.

When a young couple comes up and quietly requests a photo Dieter accepts and it’s you who offers to take it, asking them to be subtle and not post it until Dieter has left. They agree, their hands hovering around Dieter’s broad shoulders. You hand them back their phone and move on, rolling your eyes at their backs.

Refreshing.

That's the word that comes to mind with Dieter about you. You're refreshing. Like an iced cold glass of water on a hot day. A welcome reprieve from the relentless heat. He's never had a someone close to him who didn't want their five minutes of fame. But you? You hate being seen, hate the idea of someone taking your photo. You want to exist, but you don't want celebrity, that's never been what you crave. And Dieter thinks that might be one of the nicest things about you.

You do the cask drawing, the whisky tasting, the black barrel blending class and by the end of the experience Dieter is visibly relaxed, wearing his newly acquired green Jameson t-shirt, beanie, hipflask and a bag full of no less than a metric fuck-ton of booze.

"Did you really need sixteen bottles D?"

"This is 12 distillery Reserve," Dieter says aghast at your question. "You can only get it in Dublin. So its one for each month plus a few extra for gifts."

You shake your head in faux exasperation as you both get into the car that's arrived for you along the curb. And just in time, you hear a few voices starting to murmur Dieters name as you close the door behind you both.

Settled inside Dieter produces a key chain in the shape of a whisky bottle, it glints in the low dimming lights of the city.

"For you," he says handing you the key chain as you laugh. "Since you didn't get to drink anything."

"Thanks," you say with a short laugh, taking the key chain from him. You look it over, gently rubbing at the raised enamel. The car begins to drive and you feel your eyelids start to lower.

"Thanks for the treat," comes Dieters whisky-tinged breath huffing at your temple. “Even if you didn’t get to drink.”

You try to hold in the shiver that accompanies his husky order in your ear. Fucking hormones. You swallow, eyes blinking open but you don't dare look over at the chuckling Dieter leaning back into his seat.

“Can we make one stop?” Dieter calls to the driver before the partition closes.

“Where?��

“I ordered something a few weeks back that I wanted to pick up.”

The car takes you to a small row of pale colored storefronts. Dieter mutters that he’ll be right back. You watch him exit and he takes off down one of the narrow alleys, his shoulders hunched.

Your stomach drops because this is all too familiar. This is a fix.

He’s going to buy drugs.

When he returns minutes later with no parcel and his hands shoved into his pockets you know that you’re right. The disappointment that floods you almost takes your breath away. Dieter clamors into the vehicle and the driver informs you that you’ll make good time heading back to the rental.

You are positively fuming and despite his several attempts at getting you to talk, you force your ear buds into your ears and ignore Dieter for the entire drive home.

You throw the door open when you finally arrive back, waiting for town car to leave the drive before you turn on Dieter, your voice low and growled as he makes his way to the kitchen.

“You are unbelievable.”

He slowly lowers his bags and bags of booze before taking in how furious you look.

“Huh? Why?”

“After all that trouble I went to because I wanted to give you a nice afternoon, you go and stop to get drugs?” You head shakes almost violently, moving to the kitchen to give space between the two of you because right now you want to throttle him. “So what is it this week? Cocaine? Heroin? I thought you wanted to be a responsible p-“

“Woah woah,” Dieter says raising his hands in supplication. “Chill out. I didn’t buy any fucking drugs and just so you know, I haven’t even done heroin in years. Believe it or not, some things in rehab stuck.”

“Oh no?” You scoff, throwing your purse to the floor. “Empty your pockets then.”

Dieter stands stiffly staring at you, a frown crossing his features.

“No.”

“Dieter.”

“I don’t want to.”

The two of you stare at one another a moment in a silent standoff. It’s you who fires the first shot as you reach into your coat pocket for your cellphone.

“I’m calling Diane,” you say briskly, “you can lie to me all you want, but-“

“I’m not lying to you,” Dieter insists and irritation is crowding his features now. The back of his neck is growing warm, a classic sign of frustration in him. He wishes you’d stop being so cold to him, so accusatory.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you.”

“Well you don’t know me that well!” Dieter all but shouts. He reaches into his pocket now and pulls out a small box, slamming it onto the kitchen counter between you both. You stare at it confused before looking back up at him.

“What is this?”

“A present for you,” he bites off, his cheeks pink with irritation. “One I was hoping to save until the end of filming.”

The shame that takes you over is almost debilitating in its acuity. You feel your entire body grow warm with humiliation at your accusation. All your desire for a pleasant day for Dieter has been ruined by you of all people.

“Oh.”

“Well you might as well open it now,” Dieter shrugs. “Cats out of the bag.”

You grimace as you open the box, feeling shame growing in your cheeks as you view what’s inside.

It’s a ring.

Your eyes widen as you look inside the box, your fingers pulling the ring out to inspect it. It's the same one you saw weeks ago, the hands holding the heart. Only this beautifully carved one has hands holding a sparking green emerald heart instead. You swallow your suddenly very dry mouth, glancing up at him.

"You bought me a ring?"

Dieter shrugs as if this is something he does every day.

“Why?”

"Heard you talking about it with Fia at the shop so I got one sent from Galway." He sees the look on your face and his brows furrow. "What? You don't like it?"

"I do," you promise him, putting the ring on your right hand, the heart facing out. You both smile when you hold it up to the light. "I love it actually. But I don't want you feeling like you have to get my gifts, Dieter. You're already paying me a lot."

Dieters smile flickers briefly.

"Yeah well this was... This wasn't a baby thing. It was a... I dunno, friend thing. A PA thing. You do a lot for me and just a thank you."

You stare at Dieter in shock, unable to formulate a reply a moment. You look at the ring and the hurt look on Dieter’s face and you feel shame suffuse you. He’d gone and done a sweet thing and you’d thought the worst of him.

“I’m sorry, Dieter.”

He nods and then walks past you, his face solemn as he walks into his bedroom and quietly closes the door shut.

///

19 weeks personal diary entry [D.Bravo]

Baby Name Ideas

Alex

Victor

Francisca

Penelope

Javiera

Should I include Mom’s name as middle name? She wouldn’t want that anyway.

The thing about working on a smaller film set is that it can feel like a family. You're already friends with many of the other PA's, the wardrobe department, hair and makeup, the catering and much more.

Most are older than you by a bit, not uncommon in this part of Ireland and its union. They are all perfectly kind to you, the food is always great and because of that you find yourself going to set more than you have in past productions.

Back in America you used to sit in Dieters trailer on set days with your laptop and phone busily organizing his days. But here his days aren't spent partying and because of the baby on the way you find him hanging around his rental most evenings. It makes your job easier and you find yourself with more free time.

You're also fascinated by how Dieter transforms himself into someone entirely different for this role. It's amazing how he goes from slob in his hole-filled robe and Crocs to a dashing leading man with his hair slicked back and his beard trimmed.

You're also amazed by Mia. You've been on plenty of sets and seen Dieter act opposite many beautiful leading ladies. But Mia is a supreme talent, the kind of woman who people whisper about and stare at. During their scenes together your eyes volley between the two of them completely enraptured in their acting and their undeniable chemistry.

You watch one day as a scene is filmed. Your perched on the chair marked Dieter Bravo, legs crossed and eyes stuck on him on set. It's a night scene and they are both in a library un-chaperoned.

"Why are you here?" Mia asks silhouetted against the window.

"You know why," he says with a throaty rasp coming up behind a quivering Mia.

He completely changes himself for each character down to the way he holds his shoulders back, making him look even broader.

It's hard not to find him attractive like that. Especially now that you know... What you know. The feel of his tongue between your thighs, the rasp of his beard against your cheek. The way his voice goes honeyed when he urges you to come.

You gonna soak my cock, baby?

You watch as Dieter cages Mia in against the wall. "You know what you do to me," he murmurs.

Mia stares up at him, her wide eyes unblinking. You swear you could see adoration in her gaze. It makes you hold your breath.

"Cut."

You watch the two of them break into easy smiles before Dieters large hand sails to the small of Mia's back. He leans over and whispers something into her ear and she tilts towards him, grabbing his bicep as she trills a laugh.

She likes him. You'd long suspected given her gazes that first night at the award show. But the worst part is that Dieter is feeding her obvious crush. His dark eyes crinkle at the sides when she says something only he can hear.

You find yourself cringing at their exchange, your eyes dropping to your phone. Diane has sent you a few emails about a kids awards show that they want to honor Dieter at. Plus a few branding commercials you have to run by him.

You head back to his trailer, needing to focus on your work. It’s a few hours later when you hear the crunch of his boots on the gravel and then the shift of the trailer as he enters, seeing the lights are on and inhaling that familiar aroma of coconuts and vanilla. You give a short hello, not even looking up from your laptop.

"It's lunch," he informs you, watching you hurriedly type at the table.

"Uh huh."

"Have you eaten?"

"I will later."

You don't even notice that he's left until twenty minutes later when a container of salad, bread and lasagna is pushed in front of you. You glance up with a quirked brow to see Dieter staring down at you.

"Eat."

Normally this would annoy you. You hate being told what to do and you hate being babied.

But there's something about the sight of him in that costume, the stern look on his face and the rasped command that has your pupils blowing wide. Your hormones begin thrumming and you feel arousal pooling in your lower belly. You barely feel in control of yourself as you close the lid of your laptop.

“I-I’m going on a walk,” you tell him before sliding out of the seat.

“But lunch –“

“I’ll eat when I get back. I promise.”

You hear a knock on his trailer door.

"Mister Bravo? Your needed on set."

"Coming Simon," Dieter calls out. Then he looks back at you with a serious look on his handsome face.

“Cmon,” Dieter pleads, his large eyes round. “Eat quick and then come to set? I want your advice on some lines.”

“Sure.”

He smiles and heads out of the trailer. The second the door is closed you’ve taken off to the daybed at the back of his trailer. You hate yourself for what you’re about to do, but it doesn’t stop you from shucking down your jeans and thrusting your hands under your panties.

The daybed smells like the cologne he wears, the organic soap he uses. Your close your eyes and inhale deeply before you bring yourself off in record time at the thought of Dieter in that regency outfit, of his dark eyes burning coals into yours as he takes you murmuring filth in that deep rasp of his.

When you come down you give a breathless laugh at how fast that happened before cleaning yourself up in the bathroom. You return to have a few bites of your lasagna before grabbing a banana from this morning's forgotten breakfast and heading to set.

You take your spot on Dieters chair as you arrive, your cheeks heating when he comes over to you. He looks nervous as he holds out the script to you.

"Run these with me?"

"Of course."

Dieter nods and you watch him transform into character. He runs a hand through his hair, making it more dishevelled. His face is a glower, his dark eyes narrowed.

“I need you,” Dieter growls. “So much I can barely breathe. You see what you do to me?”

Fuck.

You’re turned on and Dieter can see it plain as day. He sensed it back in the trailer, but now it’s so fucking obvious he could laugh, your pupils blown wide in your eyes as you watch him finish the scene.

“U-uh that was good,” you stammer, flustered. He wants to kiss you so badly right now, the smirk threatening to turn into a full-blown smile as he watches his normally composed assistant turn pink in the face, stuttering.

“No feedback?”

"Hmmm, maybe try loosening this," you tell him, hooking a finger into his cravat and tugging gently, feeling breathless as you do. "Like you're so overwhelmed by her nearness that you can't breathe."

"Oh shit, that's good," Dieter says with a broad smile. 'I'm gonna use that. Thanks."

"No problem," you answer honestly, eyes moving from his neck to his face. "I actually enjoy this part of the job."

"Yeah?" Dieter’s voice drops a bit as his head tilts to yours. "S'that all you enjoy about working for me?"

Memories of your times together flood your senses and your traitorous gaze immediately falls to his full mouth. You realize your finger is still hooked in his collar. You remove it slowly, letting it drag along his neck.

"Be honest," he purrs quietly against your temple. “I saw how you were looking at me earlier. This costume do it for you, baby mama? Should I bring it back with me later?”

Yes, fuck yes please.

You feel his mouth at your cheek as his hand rises to hover over your belly.

You go white in the face, pressing him back from you and glancing around, thankful no one is watching.

"What the fuck are you doing?" You hiss quietly. "Are you insane?"

Dieter seems to come back to himself and stands abruptly. His eyes are wide, realizing what he almost did.

"Fuck, I didn't-"

"Talent to set."

Dieter goes to say something else but instead just shakes his head and strides from you.

You can't even look at him right now you're so angry. He's going to blow this entire fucking thing with his recklessness. You want to leave but they're about to start rolling and you’re a professional.

"Alright," the director says as the makeup woman brushes Dieters face to take away any shine. "From the top of the page."

"You want me throwing with right or left?"

"Can you do left?"

"Yep."

"Excellent. For the chair, both like in rehearsal." The director slides back into his chair watching the monitor. "Camera? Rolling... Action."

You watch as Dieter grabs a glass of prop wine, throwing it back and tossing the glass into the fireplace furiously.

"She won't even look at me," he growls to himself, shrugging the coat angrily from his shoulders to reveal a starched lawn shirt underneath. "Acts as if she doesn't want me."

He tugs at the cravat around his neck before pouring another glass. He drinks this one quickly murmuring about how the woman he loves has become a stranger to him.

"He's magnificent," a voice whispers beside you. Its Mia dressed in a robe, holding a cup of tea. She's staring at Dieter with stars in her eyes.

The director calls for a cut to reset, something about the lighting. Mia smiles over at you, taking the seat with her name on it as Dieter stands with the director talking quietly. You notice his eyes swinging in your direction and so you focus on Mia next to you.

"I've watched him since I was a teenager," she admits with a soft blush. "He was my first celeb crush."

"Really?"

Mia giggles and nods before taking a sip of her tea. Her large eyes trail over to Dieter once more.

"Is he single?"

You blink. "I think so, yeah."

"Do you think I'm his type?"

You want to laugh. "You're young, beautiful, talented and you're a fan of his. Trust me, you're his type."

"But?"

"Honestly?" You grimace at the concern in her features. "Dieter is a lot of fun. Not really serious, not really...."

You trail off thoughtfully a moment.

"Your star is on the rise, Mia. And from what I've seen of this industry that can be easily tarnished by being seen with the wrong person."

"You make it seem like he's a murderer."

"No, murder is too much work for Dieter," you say with false musing. "I'm sure he'd just get me to do it for him."

Mia hides another giggle behind her hand. You grin at her before growing somber.

"Honestly Mia, Dieter is a great person. He's got a great heart. I just don't think his reputation would be great for you. He's got a laundry list of drug use, saying pretty outrageous stuff on the red carpet," you swallow. "I would just hate for your reputation to suffer because you wanted to date your celebrity crush."

Mia nods thoughtfully, draining the rest of her tea. You feel bad, but at the same time you know what you're talking about. You've seen the hypocrisy of Hollywood taking down women for entering into high profile relationships with notorious bad boys. Mia is too talented to have that happen to her.

While she doesn’t say anything further, you don’t miss the way she continues to stare at Dieter.

Ireland is gorgeous. You've rented a car so the time not spent working on Dieter work is spent exploring the Emerald Isle. You love the verdant surroundings, the amazing locals, the landscapes that take your breath away.

You meet so many kind people, many of them tourists. When they hear your accent they want to take you for a pint and a chat but you always decline. You don't want to have to explain why you don't drink.

Most evenings are spent going over lines with Dieter for the next day’s shooting. Otherwise it's scheduling his meetings, checking in with Diane about his sponsorship posts. And while you grow happier by the day out here, Dieter is quite the opposite.

After the first week you noticed him looking a little down in the mouth. You told yourself it was just a bad mood. But now almost two months in he's become unbearable. Snapping at you, spending a lot of time in his art room. He doesn't want to run lines with you anymore, he hires an acting coach that arrives looking frazzled and they seclude themselves in the office for hours.

At first you assumed they were fucking, but the few times you've passed by to get to your bedroom you can hear them running lines. Dieter always sounds so frustrated, near his breaking point.

You wonder why he stopped running them with you. Was it the sex? It was just a one-time thing.

Dieter continues growing worse, now more snappy and irritable than usual. His morning mediation has ceased entirely. He smokes cigarettes in the garden outside, even in the drizzly afternoon weather.

It all comes to a head when you're woken from a dead sleep to the sound of the front door being slapped and your name being called.

"I wanna fuck again," Dieter tells you, his mouth tainted with whisky when you open the door. He pulls up your shirt, kissing your belly sloppily. "Take off your shirt this time, I wanna see your tits."

You're in no mood. You shove him off of you angrily because you know this horny, loud, rapidly moving Dieter. He's very familiar.

"You're on something."

Dieter shrugs, his eyes on your expanded chest. He wants to see your tits so fucking badly he can't stand it. His hands go to cup them, his mouth parted. “Did a bump with some of the crew. No biggie.”

“Dieter!”

“What?” he challenges. “Just being the guy you always think I am. Some addict loser.”

You feel your face fall at this admission. You think back to how you accused him of buying drugs that day. The hurt look that had crossed his features.

"You can't do this Dieter," you tell him as you jerk back away from his outstretched fingers. "You promised."

"Don't nag me," he scowls when he can see you're keeping your clothes on.

"I'm telling you the facts," you reply. "You promised Diane! And even if you didn't, you told me you wanted this kid."

"I do!"

"Then what the fuck are you doing? You want this kid to end up with some junkie for a father?" You're practically hissing. "Late to set, doing hard drugs, what is going on?"

Dieter tries to turn from you but you grip his shoulder, spinning him.

"Tell me!"

"They don't like me here," Dieter barks out at you, causing you to recoil from him. "They don't think I'm good enough to be in this movie. I can see it in their eyes!"

Animosity drops from your shoulders like an unwelcome jacket. Immediately you soften.

"Dieter," your tone is gentle. "Why would they have hired you if you weren't talented enough?"

"I do action movies, not this Jane Austen shit," Dieter moans, throwing himself into the couch. "I'm no good."

Suddenly the agitation, the long hours spent with his acting coach all makes sense to you.

"I've seen your stuff Dieter," you tell him. "It's great when you really put your heart and soul into it."

His large eyes are so hopeful staring up at you.

"I mean it," you say, your hand reaching out instinctively towards him. He takes it, pressing his cheek into your touch and letting his eyes fall shut.

His stubbled cheek nuzzles against your palm, like an eager cat desperate to lay claim. Suddenly it's too familiar, too domestic and you whip your hand back from him. His dark eyes dart open with a snap.

"You're just saying that," Dieter says, feeling rejected as you pull back from him. "Just saying it to make your job easier."

He pushes himself from the couch, ignoring your calls for him to stop and come back, to talk this out. He slams the door to his bedroom and you can only assume he's locking himself up to do more of whatever he bought.

Fuck what am I gonna do?!

You can't call Diane, it's far too late back in the US and even if you did what can she do?

You scroll through the list of names in your phone. You don't want to get Dieter in trouble with the director or the-

Your thumb hovers over the name MIA ROWE/JOSH in your contact list. You type hurriedly.

[6:55pm] Is there any chance Mia could come by to talk Dieter off a ledge? He's panicking about the movie and I'm outta options.

[6:55 pm] JOSH:One sec. I'll ask.

[6:58 pm] JOSH:Yep. Now good?

When Mia arrives shortly after looking glamorous even in her jeans and sweater, you thank her profusely.

"I don't know how much you know about Dieter and his drug use-" you start, stopping when she raises a wavering hand.

"I know enough," she promises you. "My dad was an addict."

Oh. You worry now that this is far too much for her.

"He's been acting weird the last few days," she confides hanging up her jacket. "I suspected. Honestly I'm relieved that you called."

Relief floods you. "He's in his bedroom, do you want me to-"

"No no, you relax," she says giving you a wink. "I've got it from here."

Dieter is lying on his side when the knock comes to his door. His coke is gone and so is the elated feeling that goes along with it. Now he feels snippy and angry. Your disappointed face flashes in his mind and he winces.

"Go away."

"Dieter?"

That's not your voice. He twists to look over his shoulder at Mia slowly cracking the door open.

"Can I come in?"

What the hell.

"Yeah. Sure."

He forces himself to a sitting position, his head hung to the side as she sits next to him on his bed.

"Your PA told me you're upset about filming and-"

"That I'm the worst fucking actor on set? Yeah."

Dieter throws himself dramatically back onto the bed.

"You're not."

Mia smiles gently at him, her blonde locks falling into her eyes. She takes his hand gently in hers, rubbing his tattoo softly. He softens, raising himself to a sitting position again.

"I'm just as nervous as you are," she confides, her hand over his. "Every day I go to set I'm terrified they'll tell me I'm bad or that they're going to replace me."

"You?" Dieter says in shock. "Yeah right."

"I'm serious," Mia insists. "You're so good, Dieter! Better than I thought you were."

It's been so long since he heard these words from a colleague. It makes him feel good, makes him feel in control. She's smiling at him and she's so pretty.

"I was so excited to work with you on this," she confides. "And I promise you've exceeded everyone's expectations. Everyone talks about how good you are in this."

"Really?"

"Really."

Dieter is like any actor, he's all ego and hearing her say these sweet, wonderful things is warming him.

Her hand goes to his curls, gently carding her fingers through his hair. Her intention is very clear, she didn't just come here to comfort him. She wants him. It feels like so long since he's been wanted like this.

He's been good. No parties and until tonight no drugs. No women or men. He's been like a fucking saint. You yourself don't count. You pretty much told him that when he fucked you. So what's the harm in a little playing behind closed doors?

His mouth crashes into Mia's, hands around her back in an instant. She welcomes the kiss with a whimper, her hands circling his waist as he deepens the kiss.

This feels really good. Mia is beautiful and so gentle. She accepts his touches, enjoys how he wraps himself around her. She doesn't pull away like you do.

He pulls her onto his lap, letting her grind against his already aching erection as they continue to kiss. She's got her hands in his hair, gripping and tugging as they kiss. It drives him fucking wild.

His hands go to the button of her jeans but before they can do more, Mia gives a soft laugh, pecking him on the cheek and standing.

"Got carried away."

"I liked it."

"I'll like it more when I know it's not the coke," she tells him honestly.

"It's not."

"Guess we'll find out," she says smiling as she heads for his bedroom door. "I'll see you on set tomorrow then."

"Yeah," Dieter smiles dreamily. "You will."

You don't know what Mia said to Dieter but he's a changed man. For the rest of the month he is on time, professional and sober. Most nights he's over at Mia's rental having dinner (and you assume fucking). He's been very covert, never spending the night, never touching her on set in a way that's not professional.

Last week he began wearing cologne and you notice his customary Crocs are traded in for dress shoes.

"Mia's taking me to this Thai place," Dieter tells you with a smile one evening as you finish up your debrief about the intimacy coordinator scenes next week. "Then we're running lines at her place."

"But that's-" our thing your mind finishes for you. You hold in the frown and just nod, telling him to have a good night as he waves goodbye.

And that's when it starts. This feeling of being left behind.

It's what you wanted.

Yes, you wanted Dieter to stop treating you like a delicate thing. Wanted him to stop smothering you with attention. You wanted him out of your hair so you could stop having to sneak around with Josh.

Except now you sort of miss Dieter.

You miss his annoying way of chewing gum, making it crack against his molars. You miss how he leans over the back of the couch when he walks by and catches you watching something that interests him. You miss how he asks how you're feeling and the delicate way he cups you tummy when you let him.

You even miss the cigarette smell that occasionally clings to his favorite cardigans (although that changes when it begins to make you sick).

You think about inviting Josh over here tonight. So far it's been frantic kissing against pub walls and one remarkably disappointing phone sex experience that left you more frustrated than anything.

You're just so paranoid he's going to be able to tell you're pregnant that you've been holding back.

You walk to the bathroom, having to pee again. For the first time in a while you take a look at yourself. Your clothes are so very baggy and you go to great lengths not to look at your naked body. So when you pull up the t-shirt and stand to the side you're shocked at the difference.

You look pregnant.

Your stomach is pronounced. You can definitely see it swell and the sight takes your breath away. You touch your belly, rolling your hands over it and giggling nervously as you stare at your reflection.

Holy shit. There's a baby in there.

For a while it just looked like you were permanently bloated. But now at five months you can definitely tell this is not a food baby.

You look at yourself a moment longer before pulling out your phone. You rest a hand over your belly, and take a photo of you in the mirror's reflection. You smile serenely, shocked at how natural you look in this pose.

You consider keeping it for yourself but this is a nice memory to share on the app. Dieter loves shit like this and he's been making your life easier as of late. Besides you won't keep this memory. It will be scrubbed from your mind the second the kid is born. No mementos needed. But Dieter deserves them.

You walk back to the main room, hands absently rolling over your stomach. You're asleep on the couch when Dieter arrives shortly thereafter. You feel his hands on your arm, gently nudging you awake. You blink, rubbing the sleep from your eyes to see him standing above you next to the couch. You glance at the clock on the wall.

"Why are you home so early?"

"I saw the app alert," Dieter says breathlessly as if he’s run the entire way home. "I can't believe - can I see? Touch it? Please?"

He came all this way, leaving Mia's early just to see your belly?

You nod with a yawn, lifting the shirt up over your belly. As Dieter takes in the swell of your stomach his eyes blow wide. He drops to his knees beside you on the couch, large hands roving over your expanded flesh.

"Fuck, he's really in there."

"Ultrasound wasn't proof enough?" You tease stretching.

"Photo is one thing but actually seeing this? Feeling it?" He marvels, shaking his head. "Just makes it so real. My baby is in there."

You nod, swallowing. "How was your night?"

"Good," Dieter answers before looking dreamy. "Mia's amazing."

"Mmm."

You watch as he presses an ear to your belly, his eyes closed as he listens. He's listening to the sound of your pregnant belly. Before you can stop him he's turned his head and pressed a soft, tender kiss to the side of your abdomen.

"I love you," he murmurs to your belly, eyes closed. "I love you my little baby. And when I finally meet you I'm gonna spoil you and take you and over the world."

Your heart goes to your throat as you blink back tears.

"You're never gonna go without," he promises quietly. "We're gonna be so happy."

For the first time since this all began you start to imagine Dieter holding his child. A tiny thing with curly hair that gurgles up at him. A mixture of you and the sweet man cradling your belly like its spun glass.

"Are you okay?" Dieter asks, large eyes concerned.

"Yeah, why?"

"You just look upset.”

“Just tired you lie, rubbing at your blotchy face. “Anyway. How was dinner? Must be good since you’ve been hanging with Mia a lot lately.”

“Yeah,” Dieter breathes with a wide grin. “She’s really great.”

“Mmm,” you nod, your attention on the muted television.

"She likes kids," Dieter adds.

"Oh good," you nod, shuffling your foot anxiously against the coffee table. "That's great, Dieter."

"What do you think of the name Karl-Jose if it's a boy or Mila-Ana if it's a girl?" Dieter asks, his eyes trained on your stomach. "You know, to honor my German and Latin roots."

"You can name it Lemon-Pillow Bravo for all I care," you answer honestly. You continue looking at the muted TV not really taking in anything, but desperate not to fall into the endless warmth of his eyes.

As far as you're concerned this kid growing inside you is a job. You're not getting attached.

"What’s your background?" Dieter asks curiously, his hand still resting on your belly. "That can factor into-"

"Why would it?" You ask frowning. "I'm not any part of this child's life remember?"

Dieter’s face which had been full of such joy moments earlier quickly sobers.

"Right."

The hand slips from your belly and you watch as he stands, moving to his art room, leaving you in silence as you bite back tears.

"It's TikTok live," you explain for the twentieth time in the last hour as Dieter’ hair stylist heads out the door. "Its promotion for the comedy you filmed last year, remember? Ninja cowboy?"

Dieter winces as he recalls that drunken nightmare. A job for a friend that went way over budget and way over filming schedule. He knows it's going to be shit which is why he's using Dieter to gain favorable press before the release.

You glance over to see you employer looking pensively at his breakfast. He's dressed with the clothes his stylist sent over and thanks to his grooming team her in Ireland he looks good in his charcoal sweater and curls brushed back and defined with gel.

"I hate this stuff," Dieter announces as he takes a bite of toast. "Can't you just do it for me?"

He's tired bags under his eyes that the makeup artist who just left tried to cover to the best of her abilities.

Dieter was at Mia's late last night going over lines and making out heavily. He's trying to take things slow with her but it’s hard. She's so eager to be with him, never shying from his touches. It feels so good to be wanted.

"That's not how it...works," you say wincing and putting a hand over your sternum.

Dieter notices immediately, almost choking on his dry toast in his effort to get to you. His hands fly to your clavicle.

"You okay?"

"Calm down," you say pushing him gently back away from you. "It's just heartburn."

"I was just trying to help," Dieter mumbles, throwing himself back into his chair.

It's so frustrating with you sometimes; you blow so hot and cold. It makes him feel unsure and anxious (when he's not turned on out of his mind.) Mia is so much easier and she's so warm all the time. She can also be a bit naive because at her age she doesn't have much life experience.

Mia loves to hear all about Dieter though, loves to talk about the movies of his she loved watching growing up. Mia hangs on his every word and Dieter can't deny that he loves it. It feels good to be adored.

So then why does he still crave your attention? Why does he flush when your eyes linger on his face? Is it really just that you're carrying his baby or is it something more?

Even now he feels his heart pick up as you come up sit next to him at the table.

"If you really wanted to help, you'd focus and get ready because you're going live on the MGM account in like three minutes," you say with frustration, your mouth in a curl of frustration. The baby has been keeping you up lately and its making you feel irritable.

That and you desperately want Dieter to take you to bed again.

But that can’t happen. The lines are getting too blurred for him, you can see that. Plus you’re pretty sure he’s with Mia and she’s been really good for him over here. You don’t want to screw that up.

"People will ask you questions here," you say pointing to the phone screen you've set up on the tripod in front of him. "Make sure at least every fourth question ties in to the movie. Release date, co-stars, that kind of stuff. Just don’t Rampart it."

You notice Dieter nodding at you in the phones display along with the large smear of grape jelly at the corner of his mouth.

"Come there," you say with a roll of your eyes as you turn to him.

In habit you grab his face, thumb coming to rest on his lower lip to swipe the jelly there as you smile at him in mock exasperation.

Dieter leans forward; eyes never breaking from yours before his mouth comes crashing into yours. His hands are on either side of your neck, pulling you to him.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he rasps against your mouth before pressing his lips to yours more fully once more. This is when you would have pushed from him. But instead your lips parted so he could lick into your mouth, making you whimper.

At the sound Dieter groans and you realize your hand is carding through his curls, messing them up.

The beep of your phone alarm goes off startling you both into breaking apart. Dieter pulls back, his dark eyes scanning your wide-eyed gaze.

"Dieter what-"

Fuck. He read that wrong. He fucking overstepped. Fuck.

"I'm sorry," Dieter says quickly. "I just thought-"

"-I was getting the jelly off your mouth before the live."

He snatches his hands back as if he's been burnt.

"That's good. That's great," Dieter stammers before wiping at his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "Better?"

"Yeah, totally," you stammer as you look back at the phone. "Okay, it's starting in two minutes. I'm gonna sit off to the side here in case you get desperate. But for the most part pretend that I'm not here okay?"

Dieter hates doing press, especially when he's somewhere without the guidance of an interviewer. He's so easily distracted, so prone to saying the wrong thing. His PR guy spent the last hour going over his talking points and what to avoid but this just makes Dieter more stressed, convicted he's going to fuck up.

Dieter nods, sitting facing the phone before swallowing and wincing. "Fuck why is my throat so dry?"

"I'll get you some tea," you offer before you go to the kitchen and start the kettle. You try not to think about how your lips are tingling from the kiss.

Things are getting complicated. This was just supposed to be a release based thing. Nothing about that kiss felt impersonal; in fact it felt decidedly intimate. Your second alarm goes off, it’s about to go live. You cross the kitchen to stand beside him.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

You step out of frame before pressing the red button on the phone and motioning to Dieter.

"Okay, go."

You walk back to pour the water over the teabag and you can hear Dieter behind you greeting everyone and thanking them for attending.

You come back to the table with the teacup to see Dieter shooting the phone and then you a stricken look.

"Jesus," Dieter mutters as streams of text scroll by. "What the... what the fuck do I -"

You roll your eyes off-screen, trying to speak softly to him. You mouth the words exasperatedly.

"Don’t swear! Just take a deep breath, look at the questions and answer them."

Dieter feels panic overtaking him. There's so many questions, so many names. He feels his heart starting to hammer anxiously.

"You've got this," you whisper.

Dieter looks at you and he feels his heartbeat returning to normal. There's something grounding in your expression, the same thing he sees you every time you hold his gaze. That steady, calming presence that tells him he'll be okay. You're the only person who gets to him like that.

"Okay," he says after a beat and you watch as he transforms into the confident, brash Dieter you've always known.

"Let's do this shit." He gives a broad, crooked grin to the phone and picks one of the questions at random. "Okay Pdcv2344 asks 'did I enjoy my nude scene in the Colossal Indemnify flick I made."

Dieter lifts a brow and shoots the camera a sardonic look.

"It was a nude scene with Gal Gadot pretending to ride me. What do you think?"

You roll your eyes and hold in a laugh from where you sit opposite him at the table. He goes on like this several more questions before he clears his throat. You remember the tea steeping at your elbow and fish the bag from the mug.

You hand him the mug, only your hand showing briefly in the screen. Dieter shoots you a grateful look as he takes it from you.

"Thanks baby," Dieter murmurs with a smile at you before his attention is drawn back to the scrolling messages. "No, I didn't wear a eyeliner in Cliff Beasts 2."

You feel your face twist into a grimace at the term of endearment used so publicly. You can only hope no one observes or brings it up. Dieter doesn't seem to notice the misstep. He's sipping his tea and answering questions. He seems to be enjoying himself until somewhere in the fifteen minute mark.

"What the fuck?"

You look up from your phone to see Dieter squinting into the phone. He's confused because digital sunglasses keep whipping over his eyes.

You raise your brows at him.

"These sunglasses keep going on my face when I'm trying to talk," Dieter says pointing at the camera. "Is that me? Am I doing that?"

"Those are gifts," you tell him with a smirk. "They're sending you gifts."

"Huh? How are fake sunglasses a gift?"

You hold in a giggle at this. Sometimes he really does amuse you.

"I thought you used TikTok all the time?"

"Not the lives. Are they using their own money for these gifts? Like real money?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck no!" Dieter frowns at the camera. "Don't send me gifts you guys. I have money. Don't waste yours.”

Dieter frowns when glasses and now a cowboy hat keep appearing digitally.

"Fuck, now there's a cowboy hat!"

"Okay well you can turn the gift option off," you tell him trying not to laugh at how stressed he seems. "Just press-"

"Can't you just do it?" Dieter asks, his baleful eyes pleading at you off-screen. "Please? You're so much faster."

You cringe at the thought of being seen but you nod, swinging around into the chair beside him. Dieter glances at you in the reflection of the camera and smiles.

"Hey everyone, this is my assistant," Dieter tells the crowd introducing and pointing at you as you give an awkward wave. "Best one around. I can't do anything without her."

"It's true," you chirp with a laugh. "I'll be one sec folks; just here for some technical difficulties then you can get back to asking Dieter questions."

You take a moment to press the buttons disabling the gifts option. Dieter watches you, amused at the flush on your cheeks. You hate being in front of the camera.

"There you go, no more cowboy hats or sunglasses," you murmur with a soft smile at him that he returns. His eyes drop to your mouth a moment before he nods.

"Thanks," Dieter murmurs with a smile, watching you slide back to the opposite side of the table, sure not to let anyone see your belly.

Dieter drags his eyes away from you to look back at the questions.

"Hey, Granguy66 wants to know if you're single," Dieter says with a waggle of his brows in your direction. "What should I say?"

You swallow, feeling suddenly strange. You know it's a joke, a laugh. But you feel odd replying in earnest. You decide on your response and deliver it with a grin.

"Say that Ninja Cowboy is coming to theatres this Friday so they better buy their tickets now."

[2:44 pm] JOSH: Thought you'd want to see this. Mia said to send it to you.

It's a photo of the cast of the film smooshed in the back of a carriage. Everyone is laughing. Dieter's hair is brushed and he's got a grinning Mia Rowe tightly against him, leaning over his lap to make sure the photographer can see her.

Dieter looks happy and relaxed and the sight of it makes you smile at the photograph. But at the same time it makes your stomach twist uncomfortably.

[2:45 pm] Thanks for sending this. Glad to see he's doing well.

[3:11 pm] Mia says that she and D are going to dinner tonight. He wanted me to tell you he forgot his phone and can you charge it?

[3:14pm] Of course he did. Yeah, I’ll charge it and have it ready for him before dinner. Can you tell him?

[3:14 pm] He’s asking if the rental needs more Bubble bath?? Wtf?

You smirk to yourself. Your check in code.

[3:14pm] Dieter just really loves baths. Tell him we’re all good here. All stocked up.

You glance down at your silenced phone and frown when you realize you've missed a call from your mother back home and guilt goes through you. You've been going all over Ireland, having amazing sex with Dieter and being distracted. You just send her texts and photos and the occasional email.

Your mother picks up on the second ring.

"Hi honey."

"Hey mom," you bite the inside of your cheek. "Sorry I haven't called lately."

"Oh that's no problem," your mom assures you. "I know you're busy. I just wanted to know if you're doing okay today."

Something in her tone stops your feet. The way she says ‘today.’

"Why wouldn't I be?"

There's a heavy pause then your mother's soft voice. "It's your father's birthday."

A feeling like a punch to the gut makes you wince. You erased it from your calendar, not wanting the reminder. But of course she hasn’t forgotten, wants you to remember them. You worked so hard not to think about these milestones with your dad gone but your mom seems to fixate on them.

"Right."

"Are you lighting a candle?"

"I will tonight."

"Good."

Your mother is big on lighting candles for those you've lost. She started with your grandparents and now your dad. It makes you sick looking at those flickering flames. Tears are starting at the corner of your eyes and a few PA's walk by giving you a friendly wave that you mirror weakly.

"Mom I have to go. I'm needed on set."

You hang up before she can say more but instead of the set you head for the shuttle. You don't want to be here anymore. You don’t want to think.

You want to forget. You want to pretend that you're fine. You want a distraction.

You push into the rental a short while later, your back and feet aching, your eyes swollen from suppressing tears into the cuff of your jacket. You need to just relax and forget about the world a moment, feel comforted.

You run yourself a bath, the scent of coconut bubbles filling the room. You strip down and slip into the bath, relishing in the warm water that surrounds you. You inhale deeply, cherishing the comfort of the coconut scent and gently lapping water. You turn the faucet off when it reaches just below your collarbone.

Your mind is busy though, despite the serene surroundings. You grab your phone next to the tub on the counter and settle back into the bubbles. You should be productive since you’re still technically on the clock.

For some reason the photo of Dieter and Mia is playing in your mind over and over. You click on instagram, searching up Mia's name and finding it there with its blue checkmark. She posts the normal things young women her age do; her doing yoga, shots of her at sunset, coffee drinking with friends, her dressed up for the Oscars. You're about to close out of the account before you see that she's posted something to her story. You click on it, feeling your breath leave you.

Her blonde head is on his shoulder and he's making one of his classic weird smirks at the camera she's holding up in front of them. She's written "This guy just makes me laugh all day" and tagged his account that he hasn't updated in months.

They look so... close.

You don't want to look at it anymore. You close out of the app and open up Reddit instead. You scroll into the Dieter Bravo subreddit. A habit you haven't indulged in for weeks due to distraction. The top post however has your eyes flying open.

Dieter Bravo secret affair? 5K upvotes, 4.8 replies.

Fuck have they learned about Mia’s crush on Dieter? Or is this all speculation like it was when Dieter was photographed with Bad Bunny? You click on the link, reading the paragraph starting the discussion and feel your heart clench.

Dieter Bravo is totally in love with his assistant. Look at these screenshots from his live.

One is you in the frame, focused on getting Dieter to understand the mechanics of the live gift feature before you're turning it off and one is when you just finished explaining gifts to him. He's got his

You can't help but feel your cheeks heating at the sight. While you were busy trying to help Dieter with his phone it seems he was busy staring at you.

And then there's the screenshot of your hand in frame handing Dieter his teacup. And the subtitle underneath: thanks baby.

You sort the comments by top, eyes scanning the thousands of comments in the discussion.

Holy shit the way he looks at her.

I heard he's dating some guy in Germany

How old is she?

My friend signed an NDA but she told me that Dieter totally fucked her in his hotel room after doing coke off her tits.

You can't tell me he's not smitten

He’s not the type to settle down so I hope she doesn’t fall too hard

He looks so hawt there

It's giving soulmates

She's cute! I hope they're happy together.

She's his employee!!!!! Stop being gross and assuming based on nothing!!!

Get urself a guy who looks at you like that

He called her baby. BABY. I'm fucking feral.

I love him your honor.

They're clearly fucking

She dresses like shit

This is how my husband looked at me during our first date. Fifty two years and three kids later he still looks at me that way.

For some reason this is the comment that stills your fingers.

You re-read it and your pathetic hormone-filled mind creates a tapestry of a future you’ll never have. One of you and Dieter older, watching your child playing in the pool. Dieter is looking at you with adoration as you press a kiss to his waiting mouth.

Stop it stop it stop it.

You need to forget this. You turn on your music, finding a blasting piece by NIN and let it overwhelm your brain. Your head tilts back against the tub, your eyes falling shut. In this moment you feel your mind fixed on the music, you feel your muscles releasing. You just want to stay in this moment forever…

“Hey you in there?”

Your eyes jolt open to see that the sky outside the small window is dark and the water you sit in is tepid. How long were you out for? You glance at the door with blurry eyes, hearing the gentle knock turning urgent and Dieter fumbling with the knob.

“Hey are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you call out, scrambling out of the tub and tugging on a robe. “Sorry, yeah I fell asleep.”

You twist the knob open and look at him towering over you in the doorframe, his dark eyes heavy with worry.

“What’s going on? You okay?”

“Just tired,” you say about to say more when your eyes fly open in realization.

“Shit! I forgot to plug your phone in!” you say, moving past him to plug it in now in the kitchen where he left it. He inhales the scent of coconut from your skin as you sail by and feels his stomach twist pleasurably.

He watches you fumbling to plug the charger in and it flashes green, showing its charging. It’ll be a bit before it’s finished though. Fuck, you only have the one job here in Ireland; be Dieter’s assistant. You fought so hard to keep your job and you’re completely fucking it up these days.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Hey hey,” Dieter grabs your elbow, noting the sheen to your eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Just a shitty day,” you say sighing heavily. “I’m really sorry about the phone.”

“Fuck the phone,” Dieter says with a shrug. His dark eyes are scanning your face. He can see that you’re upset. “I wanna know what has you so upset.”

He sounds so earnest, like he actually cares. Sometimes it’s hard to forget that he’s a really good actor.

“Nothing,” you insist with a false smile. “I got some of your dress shirts sent back from the cleaners. They’re hung in your closet in case you want to change. And uh-“

Your words falter as you look up into Dieter’s face to see him staring at you with an unfocussed look in his eyes. He’s staring at your chest and you glance down to see the deep vee of the robe has exposed much of your cleavage.

The realization should embarrass you, but if anything it makes your breathing come out shallow. The familiar thrumming is back between your legs, making you press your thighs together tightly. Dieter observes this, eyes moving shrewdly from your hips back to your face.

"You need some help," Dieter says huskily and it isn't a question. His hands are already at your waist, thumbs hovering over the sash of your plush robe.

"No...I...."

"I told you if you need release you come to me," Dieter murmurs. "Anytime you need it."

"But your dinner with Mia," you tell him worriedly.

"You come first," he says without thinking. His hands have already begun untying your robe. His eyes dart to your face. "If you want it."

"Yeah," you nod, feeling overcome. "Yeah, I want it."

The second the words leave your mouth he's tugging your robe open

You easily succumb to Dieter's mouth and hands and it's not long before he has you beneath him in his large bed, both of you naked and writhing in the expensive sheets. He's already made you come with his mouth and now his cock hits deliciously deep.

"I can't.... You're so fucking wet," he breathes into your mouth, eyes fixed on yours as you gaze up at him. "So fucking tight."

"Dieter," you groan, allowing him to suck your tongue into his mouth. He kisses as deeply as he fucks before pulling back and brushing the hair from your face looking at your kiss-swollen lips and heavy lidded eyes.

"You're so gorgeous when you let go," he murmurs gently, his hips moving lazily over yours.

You don't want to look in his eyes for too long. It makes it too intimate so you touch your forehead to his. The two of you watch where he enters you, soaked in your arousal. Your belly protrudes deliciously and Dieter realizes that this may be the last time he can fuck you in this position.

"We look so good," Dieter groans, brows saddling. You can't reply, your eyes are cheating to the back of your head now because the pleasure is building.

He fucks you hard into the mattress moaning into the crook of your neck all manner of vulgarities. You cling to him; arms wrapped so tightly around his neck you worry you're suffocating him. But he's not complaining, he's kissing your neck, hips rolling against yours.

The only sound in the room is your combined panting and the sound of his flesh hitting yours as he withdraws and sheaths himself completely over and over and when he comes he does so holding your body tightly to his.

"You didn't come," he pants with a frown. He can tell. He didn't feel that sweet fluttering and clench around his cock. He wants it.

"I didn't care about that," you tell him, kissing him gently. "I just wanted... I just wanted to feel you."

You can't explain it better than that but Dieter doesn't press you. He looks at you with a serious look before nodding and withdrawing from you. You go to leave the bed and go to your room but Dieter holds you to him.

"Stay here a little longer,” he huffs gently against your earlobe.

In this bed you won't be alone. You won't have to distract yourself in your room. You won’t have to think about the bad things.

"Okay."

You’ve forgotten about his date with Mia. Forgotten about everything awful with your Dad. All you feel and think right now is about Dieter and how good he smells and feels wrapped around you.

Dieter feels how you relax into his arms, something you’ve never really done. Just laying with you here in his bed, in sheets that will now smell of you has his heart aching instead of his cock. He could do this for hours, just holding you.

“Would it really be insane?” Dieter asks before he can stop himself, his voice huffing along the back of your neck. “I mean, you’re carrying my kid. Would us being together-“

Panic overtakes you. What the fuck is he suggesting? This is exactly why you didn’t want this to happen. Dieter is such a romantic at heart, so easily swayed if he’s fucked someone. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. And you refuse to be another phase for Dieter, even if he doesn’t know that’s what he is going through.

“Dieter I’m your employee,” you snap, interrupting him. “And after this baby is out of me I won’t even be in the same city as you.”

Dieter feels his body go tense. “Since when?”

“Since I agreed to do this for three hundred thousand dollars,” you inform him. You can practically hear the wheels turning in Dieter’s head as you say this.

“What does that matter?”

“I’m going to pay off my mom’s mortgage and I’m going back to school in Sacramento.”

“Wait, what the fuck? Sacramento? Since when?”

Suddenly the bed feels oppressive and Dieter’s arms feel constricting. You pull away from him, going to grab your robe. He watches your body move from the bed, a vessel of fertility and beauty and mystifying frustration.

“Wait, can’t we talk about this?”

“No,” you say sharply, tying the sash around your waist. “Dieter we talked about this being a release-based system. Not a romantic relationship.”

Dieter feels as if he’s been slapped.

“What about Mia? She’s waiting for you at some restaurant right now.” You glance at the clock before crossing your arms over your chest. “If you leave here now you can still make dessert.”

“You want me to go?”

“You should.”

A coldness enters Dieter’s eyes at that bitten off reply and he nods before pulling himself from the warmth of the bed. You watch him move through the room in his boxers, closing the door behind him with a firm finality.

[Personal Diary D. Bravo – 21 weeks]

Places I want to take Baby Bravo

Chile (show him where I grew up)

Disneyland (when he’s old enough)

London: maybe he’ll get an accent

Fiji – mini island (no paps)

Places I want to take her

Chile

Hawaii –

Buenos Aires (teach her tango)

Italy (she loves pizza)

Anywhere she wants

Today Dieter is filming in Powerscourt.

You are pacing outside the set; far away enough that you won't disturb filming as you finish up a phone call with Diane back home, setting up a sponsorship meeting that Dieter is in the running for. You hang up the phone just as you wander around the back garden of the palatial estate they’ve rented for this scene.

You’re about to turn back and head inside, your feet are getting swollen these days. But movement catches your eyes and you pause.

Two figures are tucked away behind the building; Mia leaning back against the wall, eyes tilted up coquettishly as she takes a puff of the cigarette. Dieter has one palm flat against the wall above her shoulder, angling himself towards her.

You can't hear what they're saying to one another but you watch them both laugh passing the cigarette between themselves. It reminds you of the teens in high school who would sneak off at lunch, sharing smokes in secrecy.

It feels intimate, like something you shouldn't see. You watch him smile at her, his dark eyes soft as he moves his lips to hers and you hold your breath as she meets him halfway, mouth pressing against his.

You know what that mouth feels like. Soft and strong. Tasting of whiskey or cigarettes or that mint gum he's always chewing. You feel a longing sigh escape you.

You feel something in your gut twisting and you realize it must be the baby. You turn away before you have to watch anymore of this, your face in a grim line. You take a seat back inside on the set, wincing as the staff go to retrieve Dieter and Mia from outside.

The two of them come back onto the set with secret smiles on their faces.

“Hey,” Dieter says coming to squeeze your shoulder gently. “Did you get a hold of Diane?”

“Yep,” you force a smile on your face. “She wants us all to face time later tonight.”

“I might have plans,” Dieter murmurs, his eyes sailing to Mia getting her lipstick touched up. She feels his gaze on her and casts a small smile in his direction.

You feel a sickening sensation in your gut and you clear your throat, trying to come off as casual. You twist the ring on your finger, the one he gave you, and try not to look upset.

“We’ll work around your schedule.”

The scene begins as Mia wanders into the library to see Dieter in a drunken rage before he grabs a chair and throws it brutally through a mirror. You watched that scene being filmed a few weeks ago, but this is the second part.

You watch the power in his shoulders and muscles twisting under his lawn shirt as he throws the chair off-screen. He spins back around; dark eyes fixed on a cowering Mia dressed in a flimsy nightdress who backs enticingly against a bookcase.

“And now,” Dieter drawls, his voice husky. “I get what’s mine.”

He goes to Mia, gripping her by the back of the neck and kissing her fiercely. Mia feigns horror, trying to back away from him, but all too soon her arms are coming to wrap around his neck as he grips her thigh, urging it around his waist.

You can’t watch this.

You slide off the chair and head to the shuttle, needing to go back to the rental.

When the director calls cut shortly after and Dieter’s eyes rise to where you were sitting, he's deflated to see the chair empty.

#dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo #dieter x reader #dieter bravo smut #pedro pascal dieter #fanfics #pedro pascal fanfiction

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kazzattack · 4 months

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imagine you and carlos have been dating for well over a few months. he's pretty comfortable with you as you are with him, but there are still certain lines that haven't been crossed just yet. most of which involve your shyness in bed. he's made it clear that he wants to be your safe space, of course. open to anything at anytime, no judgement. you want to, but you've never been with someone as accepting and inviting as carlos. it's hard to indulge in yourself no matter how badly he wants you to, hence his slight surprise when you fuck yourself dumb on his cock.

a/n ;; I’m new to tumblr and this is my first uh. drabble? so plsss be nice lmao i just thought i’d throw this under the re smut tag since it’s been sitting in my notes for MONTHS. yet somehow it’s probably poorly proof read. by all means pls leave feedback if u want :p

content ;; 18+, carlos oliveira/fem!reader, cowgirl position, dirty talking, praise, carlos is very chatty and handsy lolz, lil bit of teasing, overstim (f receiving), choking near the end (m receiving), pet names (baby, princess, doll), i think that’s it, pure smut under the cut

situated in his lap as he thrusts up into you, constantly whispering sweet nothings into your ear, one hand roaming ever curve and crevice as the other holds you close... it was finally too much. he finally broke you.

"fuck, carlos-" you moan into his ear as you tighten around his cock, nails digging into his skin. your hips begin moving to meet his thrusts and a groan escapes his own lips. "that's it, baby, cum for me," he mutters against your skin, "so tight and messy for me, princess."

you ride out your high, panting as your hips slowly approach a halt. your orgasm subsides, yet... there's a yearning for more. you want more. need more.

"so good for me," he coos, "so fuckin' perfect." he's expecting you to be done and he begins to sit up. you're quick to press your hands to his chest, though, hesitation in your movement for only a split second. carlos looks to you in thought, and he doesn't get a chance to question you before you pull yourself off of his cock and plunge yourself onto him again with an overwhelmingly loud moan.

"carlos, I-" you start to explain, but it's almost as if you don't know what's happening either. "fuck, I need..."

"'s all good," he all but growls into your ear, gripping your hips and thighs to help move you up and down on his length. "goddamn, doll, finally," carlos teases, head rolling back into the pillows with a deep groan. it's clear he's been waiting for this, waiting for you to let yourself go. "gonna fuck yourself on this cock, yeah? use this thick dick 'til it's fuckin dripping with your cum? shit-" he's still talking, making you crave more of him, and this time you take it.

he lets a deep, strained groan out as his hand moves to grip your ass, giving it a harsh smack that has you writhing above him. "fucking hell," you moan, hips moving up and down with a newfound vigor. his thumb circles around your clit, as if you weren't already overstimulating yourself, and something else snaps. a soreness brews in your thighs, but instead of pausing your hand finds it's way around his throat. pressing him into the mattress.

"this what you've been wanting, princess?" he moans, more high pitched than usual as he admires you above him. you look absolutely ethereal, fucked out face and tits bouncing in time with your hips. "you'll be the death of me, gorgeous. look so damn pretty using me."

this scenario was kinda projecting lmao happy new year !!

#resident evil #resident evil smut #resident evil 3 #carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira x reader #carlos oliveira smut

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 11 months

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Hold onto me

a/n I think someone suggested something along the lines but tumblr deleted the ask and now last night it hit me again.

summery: You're not really Joel's girl. Or are you? When Joel gets stabbed and the journey to get Ellie to the fireflies takes an unwanted turn. Will you survive to see another day after David gets a hold of you.

warnings: my lack of skills in writing, blood, shot wounds, choking, death, guns, violence, David is a warning himself, sexual assault.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Heavy. The past couple of days have left you feeling heavy. Nothing made sense. No matter what you did, you simply couldn't find any sort of comfort. The panic still lingered. The light ink of blood—Joel's blood—still coated your palms. As if it had seeped deep within you. As if it had become a part of you. And it had, in a way. Making you restless at night. Jumping up from nightmare after nightmare. A finger pressed onto Joel's pulse point, counting the beats anxiously.

What idiot pulls a knife out of a stab wound? Even amid fear, you couldn't wait for Joel to be able to stay conscious long enough so you could lecture him. Under what rock has he been raised? Neglecting the most basic rule of survival. But then again, he wouldn't care for your opinion. He never did. Maybe because his ego was really big. Or maybe because you were simply no one to him.

Ever since you joined them, Joel has mostly been cold. Sure, occasionally your heart would flutter when he would shrug off his jacket and throw it your way. Or handed you a cup of coffee. Pulled a blanket more over your shoulders when he thought that you were asleep. Or left bits of his food for you to finish when he saw you swaying slightly. Other than that, you were always welcomed with a calculated look. A look that you couldn't read, yet you knew that it didn't carry any real care in it. As if he was waiting for you to mess up so he could finally get rid of you.

You all met in Jackson. Tommy had told you many stories about his older brother. You had been tasked with gathering information about him on your own. But none of the trips had been particularly successful until Joel Miller himself came through the gates of Jackson. "You didn't do him justice, Tommy", you had laughed as the four of them sat down in the food court. "He ain't all old and cranky". The girl beside him, who you later learned was Ellie, had snorted. "He's the definition of cranky", she muttered, earning a frown from Joel.

"Do you think it's getting better?", you looked down instantly. Ellie was rubbing her eyes, still leaning against your side. You pulled the dusty blanket even tighter around her. "His fever is going down", you muttered, rubbing her shoulders in hopes of providing some more warmth. "Does it mean he's dying?", Ellie had been worried sick ever since. She had gone into shock after it all happened. Just sat in the corner. Barely blinking. Then the guilt came. Then tears. Besides fetching snow to break the fever that Joel had, you held her in your arms. Offering her the last and only thing you had — comfort.

"No, Ellie, it doesn't", placing a kiss on her forehead, you rested your cheek on her head with a deep sigh. "I'll go hunt us something to eat and…", you stated firmly, but Ellie cut in almost immediately, "I can go as well. The chances of us getting something if we both go are higher". The girl pulled away from your embrace and now looked straight into your eyes. "I ain't letting you go anywhere alone, especially with a gun", you said, shaking your head. Joel would never agree to that, and you wouldn't either. You were in a bad enough situation. It didn't need to get any worse.

"So we starve…", Ellie said dramatically, throwing her hands in the air. "Are you questioning my hunting skills?", you placed your hand on your chest playfully, pulling the most hurt expression you could manage. It did make Ellie crack a smile for a moment, but her face fell again. "I just want to help somehow", she mumbled. And you knew how she felt. She had been blaming herself for what had happened to Joel. She had been letting the weight of his limp body drag her down. You knew you couldn't do anything about it. She needed Joel's reassurance. Nothing else was going to cut it. "Fine, but you shoot anyone who comes near you", you said, pointing your finger at her. Ellie only nodded.

Joel let out a pained growl, and you instantly looked his way. Ellie had already rushed to the back room to look at the guns, leaving you two alone. "Hey, cowboy", you purred, reaching to change the warm cloth from Joel's forehead. "Don't let her", Joel snarled through gritted teeth. "Unfortunately, you are no longer in charge. Focus on recovering", you tapped his shoulder with a smirk, but he grabbed your wrist instantly, even if it caused it immense pain. "If something happens…", the look on his face said it all. You nodded. "I know you'll skin me alive, Miller. My hearing is perfectly fine".

With two rabbits by your side, you let yourself sit in the snow for a moment. Head in your hands. You hoped. Hoped you all were going to pull through. That you were strong enough to hold the front line until Joel was strong enough to fully boss you around. The truth was, you were mortified. Had been for a while, and then Joel came into your life with his broody attitude, and all of a sudden you felt the safest you've ever been. Even if you just sat in silence. Even if he was annoyed. There was always comfort in his presence. A safety blanket that you naively believed was unbreakable. Until this. And now you were back to being scared.

"Where have you been?", you said angrily, once Ellie walked into the basement. You had been pacing the place for at least an hour. She hadn't returned to your meeting spot. "I got this", Ellie said, pulling out a bundle in her hands. "What, Ellie? Where did you get those?", your body froze at the sight of medicine and a needle. No. No one had access to stuff like that, and if they did, the price for it would be astronomical. "Ellie?", you asked her again in a much sharper tone. "Some man… well, there were two of them", she muttered. "Ellie", you nearly cried out. Guts turned instantly with a sickening feeling.

"They live nearby", your head immediately jerked up to the door at the top of the stairs. "Did they follow you?", you asked as the anxiety started to creep in. "No, I don't know…", now even Ellie's voice trembled slightly as she too looked up. Your lips thinned. Sure, if they didn't follow her, then maybe it was nothing, but there was just that something, that inkling, that told you that something was not right here.

"Right, let's just be grateful then", you said, shaking your head, reaching for the bundle as you stepped closer to Joel, who stirred, opening his eyes just as you fell to your knees beside him. "Wait", Ellie caught your wrist right as you were about to stab the needle through Joel's skin. "I just… Will this hurt him?", her big, scarred eyes meet yours. "Not more than he already is. This will kill down the inflammation", you clasped her palm, squeezing it slightly. "You promise?", she asks quietly. "I can hope", you admitted. Giving Ellie fake hope wasn't something you were willing to do. It would only break her more in the end.

Ellie lay down by Joel right after you pulled his shirt down, bringing the blanket over his body once more. Joel leaned into her, yet his eyes met yours briefly. Something like a silent thank-you lingered. You gave him a little smile before brushing your hands through Ellie's hair. Hoping for a moment of calmness as well.

You suddenly jumped up to the sound of the front door slamming. Jole's arm falls from over your side as you scramble to get up, reaching for a knife. Yet the footsteps sound familiar. Way too familiar, making your muscles ease until a terrified Ellie practically falls from the staircase. "They followed me", but she doesn't look at you. Reaching for Joel's knife and pushing it into his hands. "If anyone comes here, you stab them straight in the neck. You heard me?", she asked the male before turning to you.

"We need to go; we need to distract them so they…", Ellie started to ramble once more as her breathing picked up. "Take the gun, get on the horse", you pushed her forward slightly. Reloading your guns as the banging upstairs rang out. Right as Ellie was about to jump into the saddle, you grabbed her by the shoulders, "You go straight for the woods, lose the horse, and never turn around". Her body was visibly shaking, yet she muttered, "And you?", "I'll be okay kiddo", you lean in to press a kiss to her forehead as you lift the garage door.

Everything that followed after that was a blur. You took out every single man that stood in Ellie's way. You smirked to yourself as she managed to disarm a man with a shot. Maybe it was just fool's luck, yet you couldn't help but feel proud. More than happy that you convinced Joel to give her a couple of lessons prior. You saw Ellie flying off the horse as one of the guys shot the animal a couple of times. Hitting the ground with a thud and sending all of your senses on fire. "Hey, fucker, pick someone more your size", you fired a bullet into his head carelessly. Ellie let out a scream just as the man fell to the ground. But you gave it no second thought, yanking her up by the collar to stand. "Run", you barked out, not even recognizing your voice. She staggered back like a scared animal before she took off. Right as another shot rang out, you cried out in pain as a bullet pierced your thigh. You turned around, teeth-gritting against one another. Aiming your gun at the two males there. You managed to shoot one of them, and then something hard came into contact with your head, and everything went dark.

Blissful is the state of not knowing. When you can't identify if you are dead or have already entered the afterlife, even if you weren't sure that shit was a thing in this broken world. And it's the sharp pain that ripped your eyes open as you choked out a cry. Head hitting the wall behind you as the unfamiliar faces filled your vision.

"And I thought you were a goddess while you were sleeping", the male pulled his fingers out of your wound, licking them eagerly. "But your eyes", you blinked a couple of times, trying to figure out where you were. Or what was happening? Have they got Ellie too? Or did she manage to escape? Was she with Joel now? Safe and sound. You clenched your jaw, starting ahead of yourself.

"Little lamb, do you feel blessed?", you knitted your eyebrows together, turning your head to the side so you could escape the male's fingers touching your skin. "When I see you bleeding out in front of me, I will", you crocked out. To your surprise, he only smiled and said, "Ah, I knew your soul called to mine; you have the devil inside you". You couldn't move because of the chains, which left you vulnerable to his touch all over your body. Yet your face stayed cold. Unreadable. Untouchable. "I'm David", the male put a hand on his chest, yet the smile made you want to vomit. "Where's your scary partner, huh?", he leaned closer to you. "Probably out there doing scary partner things", you sassed away. David's face bloomed with a smirk.

"You can have it all. Be a true leader. Be mine", he continued, brushing his hands through your hair, but you turned to the side, spitting right at his face, "I'd rather eat my shit". David's face darkened as he clenched his fists. Turning away from you, he let out a sigh, saying, "You are in the dark still. Don't worry, I'll get you back to the light, doll." They turned quickly and stabbed a needle into your neck, and just like before, the world around you turned into nothingness almost immediately.

Jole had been beating up the two males in front of him for what felt like hours. "I'll ask you one last time. Where are they?", Joel pulled a handful of the man's hair, pulling his face up so he would face him. "Man, please, please", the pleading continued. The pleading that was driving Joel insane led him nowhere. "Where are they?", Joel snarled, pulling harder. "The town", "What fucking town?", the booming of Joel's voice echoed through the room right as his left fist came in contact with the side of the male's face.

It was a nightmare. The worst one he had ever had. The last thing he saw was Ellie's mortified face. He saw you ushering her outside. The slight tremble in your own hands didn't go unnoticed by Joel. And now he had no idea where you were. Were you even alive? He would burn the whole town to the ground if any of you were hurt. No, Joel wouldn't allow himself to make the same mistake twice.

He felt guilty. So guilty. He needed to find you somehow. Even in his slightly delusional state, Joel felt you. Felt your gentle touch. The way you squeezed his hand. The way you ran your fingers through his hair. It was an odd feeling. Something Joel had long forgotten. He had no recollection of the last time someone cared about him. Yet alone reach for him in such tender ways. Joel often cursed himself for the frustrated remarks that he threw your way. He didn't mean them. He just didn't know how to approach this.

"Joel", the voice said, making him blink, and he only now realized that he had been beating the man without stopping all this time. And now his disheveled body lay limp in front of him. Joel turned around quickly, his body running cold at the sight in front of him. "God, Ellie", he blurted out, crossing the room in a couple of steps. Bringing the girl to his body. Feeling the fear easing. Feeling her smaller hands holding onto his coat. Feeling the way she trembled.

"Are you hurt? Did they do anything?", Joel pulled away eventually, cupping Ellie's face as he looked her over. The girl only shook her head. "They took her", only now did Joel notice Ellie's tear-stained face and the lip that still quibbled. "What", Joel breathed out, silently urging her to speak. "They she… she saved me and just.. they", Ellie looked behind her, pointing somewhere, and Joel quickly turned her face so he could face her.

"Hey, slow down, baby girl, slow down". With a couple of breaths in, Ellie finally spoke up again. "They dragged her off, Joel". Her voice was desperate. Just as desperate as when Joel got stabbed. You and Joel had become her whole world. She never had anyone to rely upon, and now you both were so important to her that every time anything happened to any of you, it threatened her whole existence. "Do you know where they took her", Joel asked calmly, never dropping eye contact with the girl. Ellie nodded her head, Joel did the same, "We'll get her back; don't worry about it, kiddo. I won't let them do anything".

You woke up loopy. Head pounding. There was no recollection of what had happened. Until minor snippets started to explode in your brain. You tilted your head up. None of the clothes were on your body; you were only in your underwear. Your body went cold. Heart beating faster. A sickening feeling rose as you turned over to vomit. Shaking violently.

The door to the room opened, making you flinch. You watched the man who came in with fear. You watch him push the tray of food through the lower part of the cell, trying to stay as far away from you as he could. As if you were diseased. As if you were the one who was insane here. "I can't reach it", you muttered. "Please", you begged. He looked back at the door. Then at you. David must have given him strict orders, and if he was hesitating so much, the consequences for breaking those orders had to be severe.

"Please", you begged again, and with a sigh, he reached for the keys that dangled from his pants, unlocking the door. Then stepped in. "Can you… Could you help me sit up?", you asked, lifting your hands slightly and reaching towards him. "You own my head", he bit back before licking his lips. You mimicked his expression quickly. "Of course", you breathed out, "I'll even choke you". You smile sweetly at him before you move the metal shackles around his throat, pushing against his skin. You wrapped your whole body around him. Like a snake holding its prey. Choking out the last drops of air. You let the tears stream down your cheeks as you leaned back, pressing even harder.

The moment the choked-out plea for help died down and he sank against your body, you quickly reached for the keys in his hands before rolling him away from you. You kept asking yourself… What would Joel do? How would he stay calm? You had seen him completely dissociated while he shot people who meant any harm to the people he cared for. The question now was - Would you be able to do the same?

Still, with only your underwear on and a throbbing leg that without a doubt would get infected eventually, you stumbled out of your little cage. Clothes should have been your priority considering the cold weather outside, but you just didn't care and couldn't care. You could smell other people on your skin. Feel the fantom sensation of their fingers. You needed to get out.

"Where do you think you're going", the sound of that voice made bile rise in your throat. You quickly turned around before you darted into the room closest to your right, shutting the door. "You bitch", David barked from the other side of the door, rattling the handle frantically. You needed to think. Needed to make a plan. Your eyes scanned the room, falling onto the door across it. Pulling them open, you stumbled into what appeared to be the kitchen.

Your hands rested on the counter for support at the sight that was in front of you. Human bodies hang from the ceiling. Some were missing parts of their bodies. Parts that, without a doubt, filled the buckets in the back of the room. "Don't worry, you won't become the next supper", you felt David's arms sneaking around your waist as he pulled you back into his body. With an inhumane-like growl, you staggered forward, reaching for the butcher knife.

"Get your hands off me", you screamed, every word met with a knife that David managed to dodge the first couple of times before the blade hit his flesh. His cries blended into static silence. You couldn't even hear yourself. The blood slowly coats your body. But you didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Until the knife slipped out of your hands and you finally saw the body in front of you. A choked-out sob slipped past your lips. Your eyes darted to your hands. Hands that didn't feel like they were yours.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even hear the door being pushed over. You did not hear your name being called out. Only when two hands reached for your shoulders did you jerk back, once again reaching for the bloody knife. "It's just me, just Joel", his hands were in the air as he slowly moved closer to you. The blade slipped to the floor, and you darted forward, arms wrapping around Joel's neck as you buried your naked and trembling body into his chest.

"I'm tired. I tried", you mumbled through the tears. Joel pressed you tighter in his arms, "Shhh, it's okay. I've got you", his voice was low. It was the kind of low that made most people think twice, but to you, it was so comforting. "I tried, Joel,", you repeated yet again, pulling away slightly, and Joel was quick to catch your face in his hands. "I know, darling". And of course, he knew. He saw the bodies that were left in the snow. He saw the purple-faced male in the cell. He saw your torn clothes. The blood was all over the cell and the corridor. The smell of blood in the air was thick. So thick that he could practically taste it, and this whole time Joel was trying to keep the flame of hope burning. To keep believing that you would give them hell. That you would not yield. That you would not let them break you.

And now here you were. Bruised. Covered in cuts. With a swollen thigh. Blood all over you. Trembling. And even if the fact that you were breathing was supposed to be enough, Joel couldn't help but feel the need to butcher every single breathing creature in this building. "I tried to be strong", you croaked out, right as your legs gave out. Joel was quick to catch you in his arms, saying, "And now you don't have to because I'm never letting go of you". Your eyes met his, and you knew that Joel meant every word that he said. You wanted to open your mouth. To tell him. Tell him how much you need him. And how scary it was to be there without him. But your body fully shuts down.

Joel quickly shrugged off his jacket before he wrapped it tightly around your body, reaching to lift you into his arms. "That's it. You'll be okay", he mumbled against your hair before carefully stepping out of the room. There and then, Joel realized one thing. One truth that he tried to ignore for so long. When you love someone, you have no control. You are powerless against all the feelings in your body. And if you truly want to love, you have to let that feeling wash over you.

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TLOU taglist: @theslytherinwriter @daddysfavoritesexkitten @randomstory56 @woofgocows @ohthemisssery

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #tlou x reader #tlou imagine #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller

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