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#I love all the creators of all the amazing fics too!!
imagine-darksiders · 2 days
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Hello! Hopefully caught you in a restful time. I just wanted to let you know that your writing is amazing! I neither knew what darksiders was nor cared until I stumbled onto your blog. I never played the games but the way you write the personalities of each person makes them feel alive! Like I'm talking to the people myself!
The way you write trauma is realistic and it pops up at random but amazingly along the flow that it feels both out of place and not! Reminding the reader that yes, this person is brave but they're still hurt and in no way in the optimum of sanity. Even though they're holding themselves together the way a realistic person does!
I got hooked! I never knew these characters and yet you made it so that I'll feel like I knew them all my life! I'm honestly itching to buy the game yet I'm scared that the creator of the game won't be able to reach your amazing characterizations.
Is the game truly that good? I'm a little scared to buy it then find that the game devolopers rushed it. If so, which game should I start with? Does it require a strong pc? X-box? I'm still unsure of using technology.
In all honesty, I'm trying to stop myself from writing a fanfic based on your fanfic. Though, it wouldn't be the same. I still have assignments to finish and I haven't been writing stories that much. Do you have any advice for new writer? Even ones about writing-work-life balance? Or, how to bring a character to life?
I'm mostly fantasising about the storyline in my head, and drawing doodles of it on whichever paper is closest to me.
Which brings me to your fantastic art! Your anatomy is amazing! The way your draw facial expressions makes it feel like they're talking around me in real life! The body types have a wide range that I don't see often and oh so thankfull to see!
From darksiders Death looking like death ran over him to darksiders Fury and the female maker twin looking like what one would expect a fighter and weapon maker would look like! Even the reader character looks amazing!
Would it be okay if I ended up following your timeline? I still don't know much about the game and most of the information I'm diffusing into my brain is from your writing.
I hope you well. With care, Illya💜.
Ah jeez, ‘are the games truly that good?’
I’m biased, so I’m going to say hell yes they’re good. They’re all so different too. I got the first game when it came out in 2010 and fell in love with the style and characters, so going into 2 I already had that love for the franchise. My advice is always to start with the first game. You get an introduction to the world, the story and the characters and it just feels more meaningful when you play the sequels. I had it on the Xbox 360, but it runs perfectly okay on any system. I don’t know if it runs on Macs though.
Alternatively, you could watch the cutscenes, but I personally never get as attached to the story if I’m not playing the game myself.
I’d be so unequivocally excited if people wrote fics based on my stuff. So long as it wasn’t like word for word, you know.
Advice for new writers? Obviously focus on your studies, they’re far more important. Which is rich coming from me, I’d write during lectures all the time. But I still managed a 1st so lol. Otherwise: Get a notebook and a pen, I write so much faster when I’m not doing it at a computer. Also, don’t get hung up about making the characters too oc, you’ll forever be fretting over that, just write them as naturally as you can and love doing it. Most of my writing I do in the evening when nothing is expected of me and I can get stuck in without getting distracted.
Use simple language in your first draft. Repeat words, don’t worry about saying the same thing for the first draft, so long as you get the chapter written out, you can fuss out the finer details later. I’m guilty of getting hung up on vocabulary.
Dude. I need to see those doodles.
You can follow my timeline, no worries. Darksiders isn’t mine, all I’ll say is I’d prefer if people didn’t try to write ahead of where CHWH is currently and claim that’s how the story should/does continue.
I’m so pleased you’re enjoying my writing and art, I’ve noticed your username popping up in my notifications a lot, and it gets me all excited like ❤️ 🌟🌈🥰✨💫🫠
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bluepixiedream · 24 days
Text
I began something…
Good Dogs Only
Unable to be broken by the military and deemed too much of a hassle to be worth anything, your last stop is teaming up with the 141 until your demise. Can you learn to be a good dog, to follow orders and listen, or will one of the guys finally put you down?
(Read as an reader insert, but they do go by a call sign and have backstory. I’m trying to avoid physical descriptions. Does go by she/her.)
[I have an idea on where this is going but honestly, this is all vibes and thoughts. A nice little distraction. Thank you :)]
Content Warning: mentions of violence, call sign is a reference to csa, brief mention of sa w/o details, just a quick meeting a very brief overview.
1) The Meeting
You stared out of the window, taking in England entering the autumn season. The changing leaves. The colder air. Ice threatening to form on the roads and a sickness flowed through your bones and stayed there.
This is your last stop in your very short military career.
The United States didn't know how to handle you anymore. On a tight leash, you were unstoppable. A danger to their enemies. An unstoppable force. But ultimately you were uncontrollable and deemed a hazard. You must be broken at all costs. You must submit.
It almost became a game to your superior, Yena, to see how far you could be pushed. Could you escape a sinking boat in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean with a broken leg, a dull blade and a mountain full of soldiers who were ordered to skin you on sight?
Of course.
Almost too easy.
They built you up for six months during your training. And they spent the last few years trying to shatter you in between missions and teams who could not handle someone like you. Solidarity confinement for 200 days. Shoved in the floorboards of Guantanamo Bay and left to rot until you escaped or died. Kept locked in a room with violent men and their violent urges until you were used up. Until you broke. Until you listened to your owners.
But you didn't.
It wasn't wired into you like it was with everyone else and, now as you get closer and closer to your last stop, you almost wished it was. You wish you could retire and move to the deep woods, in a cottage that begged for an owner and someone who would make fires in its belly and make bread in its stomach until it grew alive with hope and feelings. Finally allowing children to run around, making the cottage into a home.
You felt the weight of your past. You felt the grief you caused. The lives you took as a civilian and the chaos you sought while working for imbeciles in military drags.
Good people deserved good things. And you, my dear Lolita, were not a good person and did not deserve nice things.
Not anymore. Maybe never even at all.
"You will meet the 141 at 0800 hours. Laswell is not convinced you will fit in, and I assume the rest of them won't either. Make them believe otherwise." Yena demanded, her tongue dabbing at her bottom lip, her eyes pinched like she ate something sour. She didn't. She was just in your presence and after awhile, it was enough to feel as if she had.
"Yes ma'am." You replied, the mocking tone seated deeply within you, but Yena had been around for awhile. She knew what you meant.
"Get yourself under control and we can discuss an early retirement." Lies. All lies. All pathetic, wasteful, delicate lies.
"Yes, ma'am." You said again, your chest locking in as the jeep rolled to a stop outside of the base you would stay at until your demise. Thick, concrete walls lapped around, barb wire on top, guards holding their post like they were ready for war.
If this didn't go according to Yena's plan, they would be at exactly that.
It took only a short minute before the gate opened and you were rolling through.
The new wound on your side itched. It would until it finally healed enough. You deserved the ache. You deserved the pain. You were a dog after all. And a shitty one at that.
"If they can't control you, Lolita, nobody can." Yena said, almost sincerely as she gazed at your eyes. Trying to telepathically send you a message. A warning, a plea to be good. To listen. To be a good attack dog and listen to your new owners. "We have no use for soldiers who don't listen." Her voice turned down, almost a hush. "We have no use for dogs we can't control." You nodded, reading her loud and clear.
Be good and buy yourself some extra time.
Don't listen, attack unprovoked or bite, and there would be no more punishments. There would be no more moldy bread and sour water, no more prisons and no more impossible tasks.
Only death.
Death shouldn't scare you, but you were hiding from some of the dead, and you would never be ready to face them. You couldn't. Not yet.
The jeep stopped moving. Yena sat back, ran her hand over her pristine uniform before opening the door to greet the team standing outside, waiting for the new member to join them.
The incredible team of four.
The team that made superior officers whisper in fear of being overheard. The team that was sent to their almost certain death and yet, came back time and time again.
The best of the best.
And yet, here you were.
Not the best of the best. Not incredible. Not miraculous. Just you and your past and perhaps the little thing you could do with your memory, if you ever felt like sharing with the class again.
Four would become five.
It was a shitty thing to put any team through. The team knew each other deeply, trusted each other explicitly. There were four of them and it was perfect. A leader, his right hand man, and two soldiers who were eager to do good. To be good dogs and listen and do as they were told.
Throwing you in would be fucking up their whole dynamic. It could ruin them.
All apart of a grand experiment, no doubt.
You followed after Yena. Your boots hitting the ground with a crunch. The cold morning air brought you much needed relief from the stale, tense air. All of their gazes found you immediately and you couldn't help it but stare back at them the same.
Laswell was first. Kate Laswell. Station Chief for over 10 years. Unconventional but respected, feared and dangerous without the team around her. Leader of the 141. Yena's personal crush, even if she never outright admitted it. She was using you to get closer to Laswell and, if you had a heart, you would almost think of it as cute.
"Hello, I'm Kate, but call me Laswell. And you are-"
"Call sign only." Yena interrupted, her eyes on you before going back to Laswell. Laswell clearly didn't enjoy the interruption, nor did she enjoy feeling out of the loop for once. She was normally the person to make the others feel that way. She was not the one to be on the receiving end.
"Lolita." Your voice came out strong, your hand held out and as she gripped yours, you felt her squeezing yours twice. Quickly. A test. You did not engage. Yena might shoot you there if you did.
That wouldn't be a very good dog, would it?
Laswell couldn't help her own reaction, her left eyebrow twitching up, the jerk of her lips. Something died on her tongue. You wanted to seek it out. Make her spill it in front of everyone. In front of you.
Nothing you hadn't heard before. There was power in knowledge, in knowing exactly what she thought, and she was smart enough to keep it to herself.
"Sergeant Lolita. Welcome."
The next person was Captain John Price. Mid to late 40s. Dark brown hair hidden under, what you could only assume, was a fisherman's hat. Bright blue eyes. A half beard, cut off at the chin. He wasn't the tallest, nor the biggest, but there was something about his personality that oozed confidence. A tamer of unruly soldiers. The one person in charge and that would stay that way.
You were almost sad you wouldn't be around for long. You would love to see their personalities play on each other. Was he the dad of the group? Or was he, truly, the most vile and only the men behind him could control him?
Maybe that was their entire group. Everyone kept everyone in check.
An ache filled your heart.
It must be nice to have a team like that, a family like that.
His hand reached out first and gripped yours tightly. You reciprocated, a short nod from you got you a nod in return. You wanted to say so much to him. To all of them. You wanted to let them in on your little secret.
You wanted to be a bad dog already.
But you couldn't. Not yet. Not in front of Yena and Laswell.
Maybe not ever.
"Captain John Price." His voice was like his handshake, strong and sturdy. His accent only made you fall into the twisted maze of control even further.
Maybe Yena was right. Maybe it could be okay to give up control. To submit. To be good. To listen. To obey.
"Lolita. Nice to meet you, Captain. Glad to be apart of the team." He let your hand go and backed away, allowing another to take his place. The man now in front of you was beautiful. It was almost breathtaking. Almost grotesque. What was he doing here? Why wasn't he a model somewhere, on a beach, being fed grapes on a vine from other Gods like himself? His brown skin glowed in this shitty weather. He deserved the sun. He deserved the stars.
You made note that he could be dangerous to your objective, and to maybe keep some space.
And then he smiled. Perfect teeth framed by plush lips. His cheekbones sharp. His eyes glowed, like he was honestly happy to have an extra member added.
You made another note to highlight your previous note, mark it in red and never to forget it. He shook your hand, this time more gently than the Captain but still strong. He needed to feel you out. See what you were made of. You didn't blame you.
You were doing the same.
"I'm Kyle. You can call me Gaz if you wan'." Sergeant Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick. Panty dropper. Partner stealer. A perfect and deadly decoy.
You had to hand it to Laswell, this was a nice team she put together.
"Call me Lola when we're not on field." You couldn't stop yourself and maybe that's why Gaz was here. Open you up. Get you to spill.
You wouldn't. You can't. He gave you a million dollar smile. It almost hurt to give him a small one back.
"You got it, Lola." Just like the Captain, he backed away and allowed another member to take his place.
This time your eyes didn't stray to the face like before, but the mohawk that went down his head. Non compliant. Non military approved. You wanted to smirk. You wanted to look over at Yena and ask her how the fuck she expected you to listen when your new team clearly did no such thing?
You let your gaze travel to his face and fall into his piercing blue eyes. Just like his captain but a lighter shade. A scar broke his left eyebrow in two. His nose was sharp but the slight bump told a few stories of broken bones and a possible refusal on being set correctly. His lips were plush, a bit wet from his tongue darting out to touch them. He was around the same height as Gaz, but perhaps a bit bulkier. He wasn't as pretty as Gaz though.
You didn't think anyone could be. Not unless they were a professional model and even then, there would always be something about Gaz that would rope you in. Something hidden, something dark, something brewing under his surface that made it clear why he was SAS.
The man in front of you smiled, and you were hooked like you were with Gaz. That smile. Full teeth. A small dimple on his right cheek. His hand came out and you immediately grabbed it. His hand was warm and it fully engulfed yours. Not that it was abnormal but it almost made you want to rip it away. It also made you want to grip his hand harder, keep the warmth all to yourself.
"Johnny but ye can call me Soap." Your heart felt off. You were use to using your charms on people, on men, but not the other way around.
It was quite rude when you thought about it more and more.
"Lola." You gave him a small smile back and did nothing to hide your eyes from traveling over his body. Taking in his frame and searing it to memory. You knew you would fight these men to prove your worth and it would happen soon. He was big and bulky. You took your hand back before you began gripping it for a different reason.
What else was big-
"Ay, this tall, dark and mysterious is L. T. Or Ghost."
You almost couldn't believe you didn't see him but that was a lie. You thought a cloud was following Johnny-Soap. No, it was a man. You didn't remember seeing him at first but how could you miss him? Someone much taller than everyone around with the body of a tank. A black balaclava covered his entire head, leaving no skin to be shown and a human skull improperly sewed onto the material underneath. Black gloves covered his hands and his eyes, dark and endless, looked at you like you were a pile of shit under his boot.
That was fine, almost preferred. You liked indifference. You hated lust. It complicated things when eventually you had to put an unruly officer in their place; it often lead to your own punishment instead of theirs.
His outfit was something else entirely and it made you think. It was almost relieving to see someone else who was non military compliant when it came to bullshit like looks and uniform. Someone who played by his own rules. Someone who wasn't scared of what others thought of him.
'But even he was broken, broken enough to be on a team, unlike yourself.' You could hear Yena whisper without having to open her mouth at all.
You gave him a short nod before turning back to your new captain and station chief, happy to be over with introductions. Captain was the first to speak and broke the mounting tension.
"Let's get this over with, yeah?"
You couldn't agree more.
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doctorweebmd · 9 months
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I was thinking about this the other day and wondering why it’s become so much less fun to write for BNHA and I think it’s because… I’ve written too much?
Like being a one-off author was fine and fun and novel and people were so cool and supportive, but now I’ve got multiple long fics and people have started treating me like someone that “creates content” rather than someone who is writing for fun. And I’ve shot myself in the foot by continuing to write long-fic and putting my heart and soul into them and it’s like never enough, people just expect more and more and more and I want to keep giving and keep doing better but no matter what I write it’s just not ENOUGH
And like… this started a little after I finished Zero Sum Game but like… people have started forming “opinions” that they share openly about “me” - I can’t stand going into fandom space and seeing people say they can’t read anything I write, or they don’t like me as an author, openly ranking my works, saying xyz is overrated or mention me by name in shipping discourse or send me hate mail or update requests or just straight up telling me they’re not going to read what I write anymore… and these people don’t know me!!! I’m just an empty space to them!!! Just a machine that pumps out thousands on thousands of words to just look at an forget about instantly!!!!!!!!
Where do people get off honestly. Is it like this everywhere or is it just BNHA? Is it because it’s so popular that the community has broken down completely? Sincerely what the fuck how can anyone treat writers like this…
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cantofworms · 1 year
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#ok ik all the hot take asks are pre much done and the sparkly say smth nice asks are better but well I’ve been having thoughts all day at#work and want to get them out now so that’s what I’m doing lol#obvs for the past few months i think ppl are vv heavily leaning into the dnf /r and I firmly believe that they aren’t#like yes I enjoy being a multi shipper but I still primarily read dnf fics bc they’re cute dnf writers and artists MWAHH ilysm#but it’s been increasingly annoying how every move dnf make ppl hyper obsess over it and ignore everything else like blog what u want this#is tumblr dot com but I think ppl how only see dnf thro the lens of romantic do much more ‘harm’ than ppl who dont#like the argument about taking validation out of their very REAL amazing friendship just gets over shadowed by omg Dream posted a pic of#geogre they’re in LOVE and sucking and FUCKING every night. like#and then completely disregard when dnf do and say the exact same shit about all their other friends#like dream has explicitly said they aren’t dating (ignore that tho) amd that’s he’s kissed multiple ppl since coming out (ignore that too)#and their friends naturally say that they’re all single (ignore that too) idk man it’s ok they like to pander amd that dream is a toxic#dnfer but it’s all just For Funsies. another thing is ppl CONSTANTLYYYY putting geohres sexuality under a microscope oh he drinks lemonade#from Starbucks he’s soooo gay like dumb shit like that is so irritating#the fact that geogre has never once talked about his sexuality except that one instance where he got a DONO about it proves how much it#just doesn’t matter or apply to the type of content creator he is/wants to be#to be clear if he is or isn’t or dnf every explicitly announce their romantic relationship im gonna be sooooo happy and supportive like aw#dnfogies🫶🏻 but I think there’s a 99.9% chanve that’ll never happen so maybe we should all just care a Little Less and focus on out lgbt#creators if that’s smth u wanna watch/blog about idk maybe I’m just burnt out from the phandom but whyyyyy does is matter what their#sexualities are they play minecraft who cares who CARESSSS idk maybe just having older brothers around dtqk ages has made me realize that#guys will just act homiesexual no matter What#guys are just Like That and tbc I’m not saying that just bc gnf hasn’t made an official coming out doesn’t mean he’s not queer but for the#sake of his contwnt it doesn’t matter either way ? so why are ppl talking about it on the daily idk man it’s just annoying but Oh Well#at the end of the day they’re all famous white guys and nothing matters hurray !!
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marlenesluv · 6 months
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Going Public (OB)
pairing: y/n sainz x ollie bearman, y/n sainz x platonic f1 grid
fc: ariana greenblatt (reader is 18)
summary: y/n is the beloved sister of carlos sainz, who’s instagram had been private for years. finally, she makes her account public and shares her life with people other than family, friends, and the grid. soon, her and ollie go public with their relationship.
note: this is my first ollie bearman fic! lmk ur thoughts!! also thank you so much for 600 followers!!
masterlist here -> masterlist link
^ check my list for all posts! ^
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: carlossainz55, landonorris, and 76,234 others
y/nsainz: opened my instagram for shits and giggles. enjoy, suckers
view comments…
carlossainz55: i thought you said you weren’t opening it?
↳ y/nsainz: that was before i realized how many ppl wanted to see my pics LOL
f1updates: y/n sainz content?? this was a need, ty for opening bestie
olliebearman: that haunted house was not fun.
↳ arthur_leclerc: you seemed like you were having fun
↳ y/nsainz: before or after he almost shit his pants?
↳ carla.brocker: i had fun!!
chili55edits: she is so gorgeous?! these family genes are amazing, i tell ya
lilymhe: oooo shes going public y’all 😛
↳ y/nsainz: yuhhh🥱
sainzupdatepage: gonna start posting her now, yuppp
ferrarifriends: she’s so pretty holy shit
user8: style goes so hard
lailahasanovic: miss you!! 💓
↳ y/nsainz: miss you too!💓
maxfewtrell: i’d love some pic credit for that last one
↳ y/nsainz: looks like you j did. yourself.
↳ maxfewtrell: the sas is out of this world
↳ landonorris: 💁‍♀️💅
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: lilymhe, charles_leclerc, and 91,348 others
y/nsainz: black tie events, icecream with ollie and then lily, sassy man apocalypse, and a pic kika took at a grid dinner😘
view comments…
francisca.cgomes: y/n is literally an upcoming influencer and i’m here for it
↳ y/nsainz: i’m not already? :/
↳ francisca.cgomes: GIRL😭
user4: the second pic?? stunningggg
olliebearman: who took the third pic?!?!
↳ y/nsainz: you fr need pic creds?
maxfewtrell: oh, i see. she gets the sas from carlos and hanging out with lando and charles
↳ carlossainz55: you aren’t a saint either max
↳ mawfewtrell: wtv🙄
y/nsfp55: YOU ATEEEEE (and ate the icecream!)
charleskachowfp: love these pics sm. i need them engraved in my brain
georgerusell63: first and second pic are giving dark side from star wars
↳ landonorris: it’s almost like that was the goal!
↳ alex_albon: 🫢
user6: favorite siblings in f1 are unlocked: y/n & carlos
↳ arthur_leclerc: what the fuck? what about me and charles?!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: olliebearman, francisca.cgomes, and 101,024 others
y/nsainz: i spend race days with ollie while he mansplans to make him feel better
view comments…
olliebearman: what.
↳ y/nsainz: huh
user3: spends time with ollie..don’t make me ship
ollieeesssfp: ollie and y/n content is too cuteee
carlossainz55: could have spent race day in the ferrari paddock.
↳ y/nsainz: don’t act like you wanted me there🙄
↳ charles_leclerc: i did! i missed our pre-race gossip
↳ y/nsainz: i missed that too :( i’ll be with you next race!
user3: y/n is a charles supporter fr
*liked by creator*
f1wags: kika looks so cute in the last pic!
olliesfp1: BRO? j tell us ur dating cuz he’s looking at her like he’s in love fr
francisca.cgomes: race day = chat day!
↳ y/n.sainz: fr!!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
twitter:
F1 Updates @f1updates • 3hr ago
Today we will be talking about Y/n Sainz and the dating rumors with Ollie Bearman!
Here’s what we know: Y/n met Ollie through Arthur Leclerc, in which the trio started hanging out a lot, sometimes including Carla, Arthur’s girlfriend. We know that Y/n spends time with Ollie in the Ferrari paddock when she goes to watch Carlos and Ollie will accompany her.
Seen, last night around 9:10pm, Y/n and Ollie were leaving a restaurant in Mexico. The Grand Prix is this Sunday, only five days away from Tuesday nights spotting! We are questioning if they are more than friends….since Ollie seemed fairly protective of her at the dinner..
↳ Sainz Sibling Page @sainzsibs • 3hr ago
Y/n and Ollie are my otp. They are so cute together!
↳ F2 Bloggerrr @f2blogg • 2hr ago
Idk, I think Y/n and Lando would be cute
↳ Papaya Fp @mclarenpap • 2hr ago
HUH😭 Y/n and Lando are besties, they will nott date. Just because she hangs out with the F1 guys does not mean they are dating….
↳ Dolly luvs cars @dollyf1chatt • 1hr ago
In my opinion, Y/n and Ollie are the cutest couple. The way she’s Carlos’ younger sister and she’s also so close with the Leclerc family and Ollie is close with Arthur? They have background and it’s so cute. Our pure babies 🤭 They are adorbs
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: olliebearman, landonorris, and 98,014 others
y/n.sainz: brazils legal drinking age is 18😁👍🇧🇷 maybe it shouldn’t be
view comments…
carlossainz55: what is going on in brazil?!
↳ y/n.sainz: nothing?
↳ carlossainz55: Y/N.
f1wags: LMAO not y/n being scolded by carlos 😭
olliebearman: 😊👍
↳ y/n.sainz: 😯✌️
user7: not the THONG?
↳ user2: girl has got some explaining to do LOLLL
formula2edits: brooo, that’s obv ollie in the first pic
lilymhe: cutiesssss
*liked by creator*
y/nsogfanpg: she slays even when she’s literally throwing up bc she’s drunk!
danielricciardo: i feel like ive committed a crime by seeing this post
↳ y/n.sainz: weewoo weewoo🚨
↳ danielricciardo: ha. ha.🙄
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: y/n.sainz, arthur_leclerc, and 52,014 others
olliebearman: 👍📸
view comments…
user3: SOFT LAUNCH🚨⚠️🚨⚠️
sainzpost55: ollie ain’t subtle wit it🫤
arthur_leclerc: lol, mate. just wait till carlos sees this one
↳ oscarpiastri: you can say that again….
fp1upsss: okay mr. hard launch!!!
y/n.sainz: oh great heavens
carlossainz55: 🧍‍♂️what.
↳ olliebearman: should i block him?? @y/n.sainz
↳ y/n.sainz: nah, he’ll just come to your house then
↳ olliebearman: HUH
user1: wait….. y/n and ollie CONFIRMED??
↳ f1wags: yes‼️ wag and a sister of a driver is a SLAY
liamlawson30: cute guys!! pr is gonna LOVE this one
↳ olliebearman: oh man
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
your instagram story:
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seen by: carlossainz55, landonorris, and 74,149 others
ollies instagram story:
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seen by: carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 47,138 others
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: olliebearman, carlossainz55, and 89,130 others
y/n.sainz: 🧸❤️
view comments…
y/nfp7: anyone else see that she added the bear emoji and a red heart to her bio too?🥹🥹
carmenmmundt: you guys are tooo cuteeee
↳ y/n.sainz: carm 💓
olliebearman: ❤️❤️
*liked by creator*
formula1updates: i’m melting. they are so cuteeeee
carlossainz55: cute theme i guess
↳ olliebearman: i’m growing on you
↳ carlossainz55: yeah like a fungus
↳ olliebearman: oh….that’s good?
francisca.cgomes: so prettyyyy
↳ y/n.sainz: no you kika
bear8fp: omggg the bears??? TOO CUTE
user4: don’t mind me, just sobbing in the corner bc i’ll never have an f1 brother and an f2 bf🥲✌️
f1wags: this is too precious i’m gonna burst 🥹
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)
1K notes · View notes
m1d-45 · 9 months
Note
i love your sagau/imposter au fics so much (esp kazuha’s),, do you think nahida would be able to sense if the creator isnt an imposter because of her having access to Irminsul and being able to see if there are records of them? anyways okok so uh hear me out, maybe the creator tries to seek safety in sumeru while they’re being hunted? sorry if this is a lengthy ask ekwjkwm anyways thanks for reading, ur amazing !
sandy refuge
word count: 3.4k
-> warnings: spoilers for the final sumeru archon quest
-> gn reader (you/yours)
taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr
< masterlist >
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sumeru was a deadly nation.
liyue was guarded by the adepti, and inazuma’s storms tore the sea around the archipelago to shreds, but sumeru…
sumeru, the land of wisdom, headed by academics and led by scholars and sages. the nation split in two, lush forests barely a stones throw from barren deserts, believers of two (three?) separate gods walking side by side through the city. for a nation so divided, it was rare to get everybody to agree on something, every decision inevitably and invariably leaving some group of people unsatisfied.
and yet, there they were, united under one flag. eremites and the matra, the beige robes of the desert dwellers shifting in the wind besides the glittering armor of the akademiya’s soldiers, spears and swords aligned towards the same target.
it would be beautiful, if only you weren’t the one they rallied against.
you didn’t know how long you had been running when you managed to work your way past the wall, nor how long you had managed to stumble across sand dunes before finding your current oasis.
literally. trees swayed around a large pool of clear water, thick grass cushioning your knees as you barely hesitated before cupping some in your hands and drinking. it was blessedly cool, and you were tempted to swim in it and let it soothe the continuous heat from the desert sun. sadly, you didn’t have a spare set of clothes, and you weren’t keen on stripping when the matra could storm the place at any moment.
or the eremites. or the corp of thirty. or literally anybody else, since you’ve apparently been declared public enemy number one.
you splashed some water on your face and over your head, goosebumps rising where a drop raced beneath the collar of your shirt. how water was so cold when the sand was so hot, you didn’t know, but you weren’t going to complain.
after drinking a few more handfuls of the water, you finally looked around. there was a large spire of stone next to the oasis, flanked by large trees, with a thankfully abandoned hilichurl hut beside it.
you try not to think about how an archer would have had an easy shot as you were drinking.
at the base of a few of the trees is something green, and you remember the nuts that grew in the desert. you were too wary of the henna berries and the cacti they grew on to try and eat those, but you distinctly remember these being used in a few recipes.
all you could do was hope they were edible raw.
you stood—your vision blurred, the ground tilting, but you ignored it—and walked around the oasis, inspecting the green and hoping it wasn’t a fungus.
good news, it wasn’t. bad news, it was the husk of one of the nuts, hollow without any of the fruit inside. fresh, by the looks of it, the green leaves squishing instead of crumbling when you kicked at them.
great.
you sat on the curved trunk of one of the trees, holding up a hand to shade your eyes as you looked up. you could see another nut, hanging off the top of a tree, but.. the bark of the trees were smooth, and any of your athletic abilities were worn away by exhaustion and malnutrition.
you let your head drop and tried not to focus on your hunger, instead inspecting the mix of sand and grass beneath your feet. sand and grass. all of sumeru, represented right at your feet. hot, slippery sand, and cool, spiky grass. the desert and the forest, two wildly different ecosystems, and yet… both drove you out.
you tried not to cry, to push away the helplessness of the situation, but you couldn’t. what had you done, you wondered, for your very face to cause such an uproar? for two separate groups of people, divided in location, name, and faith to ally in their shared hatred of you? if somebody asked you what the millelith, matra, and eremites had in common about six months ago, you couldn’t have answered. you’d have thought about it, maybe, but drawn a blank outside of ‘defenders.’
but what were they defending? and how were you a threat?
when the first tear fell, so did something else.
you jumped at the dense thud, digging your nails—overgrown, bitten at, broken—into the bark as you searched for the source of the noise.
a large fruit had fallen, the one you were eyeing earlier by the looks of it. it sat atop the empty husk of another, magically fallen from the tree by seemingly nothing.
you weren’t going to complain.
you slid off the tree, reaching for the nut, grabbing the stem and pulling, but dropped it just as fast. a fungus was standing just behind it, large orange eyes looking up at you.
you were frozen. would it attack you? was it trying to eat? did they even need to? could you get sick from fungus spores? even if you couldn’t, getting hurt wasn’t worth the meal…
the fungus tilted to one side, then the other, bumping the large fruit towards you.
it… was giving it back?
you stared, but the fungus didn’t move. when you carefully tugged at the nut, slowly drawing it closer so you could properly pick it up, it didn’t move. it just watched you, the rim of its cap slightly falling into its eyes.
you sat back on the tree, pulling it into your lap. the outer leaves were coarse, softening as you pulled away the many layers. there was a high chance some of the inner leaves were edible, but you didn’t want to take chances. the fruit itself was a pale green, easily tearing under your fingers. it was soft, with the barest edge of sweetness that had you prying up more. it wouldn’t make for a full meal, but it was certainly far better than nothing.
you checked on the fungus every once in a while, but it just stood there. by your guess, it was the floating anemo kind, but where was its group? fungi rarely appeared alone, and part of you felt bad.
(felt bad. for a fungus. you’re in dirty, torn clothes and on the run for your life, and you still find the empathy for a fungus. at least you knew your morals were still intact.)
you offered a piece of the nut to the fungus, but it didn’t react. instead it turned, floating into the air and drifting away.
…alright.
you try to eat the fruit slowly, as to not make yourself sick, taking breaks to sip more water from the lake to dim the sweetness. you didn’t know how long the fruit would stay good now that you’d opened it, but you were trying to enjoy it. its not as if you were overflowing with excess, and you likely couldn’t linger here long. you don’t even know why you resorted to the desert anyway.. between cyno, the ruins, scorpions, the primal constructs.. to say it was dangerous was an understatement. even if you made it to the far west, the pari were there, and you didn’t think they would take too kindly to you. fontaine wouldn’t be much better, provided you somehow crossed the sea around it…
nowhere was safe. you supposed that was the point, that nobody would give you refuge, but it still hurt. you didn’t think you’d ever land in this situation when you first downloaded the game..
whatever. you’re not going to go down that path for the nth time. you hold the remains of the nut in one arm as you stand, picking off chunks as you walk toward the hilichurl hut. with any luck there would be something useful inside, or at least be a safe place to rest temporarily.
the camp looks like it’s been clear recently, which is both good and bad. good, because neither hilichurls nor patrols should come by here for a bit, but bad because it lowers your chances of finding anything useful. there’s no arrowheads or vegetables, not even embers in the fire pit, all the supply boxes long since broken.
at least it’s shelter. at least you had food today, and (hopefully) clean water. small wins, small wins…
you gather your strength and begin to drag all the rubble into the hut, using what was left of their training dummies to make a hollow pile. hopefully it would just look like trash to anyone walking by, and could maybe keep you warm. the scraps of furs littered over the camp were matted with something you didn’t want to think about, so this was your best bet.
man, you missed your bed.
you returned to the oasis for more water, scrubbing off some of the dirt from your arms and face. you wouldn’t be clean for long, what with the dirt floor you’d picked as your shelter, but it felt nice. a topical fix for a bone deep wound.
you didn’t try to clean your clothes, eyeing the sun dipping in the sky. having wet clothes wouldn’t help at night, even if it might feel good. perhaps tomorrow? yes, tomorrow. tomorrow you could scrub at your shirt—*blood doesn’t clean easily without soap*—and try to undo some of the knots in your hair, maybe even use leaves and some of the scraps of twine around the camp to bring some water with you.
tomorrow. you got this. surely.
(just ignore the fact that you don’t know where in the desert you are. or how easy it would be to get lost, or dehydrate. nope. this is a perfectly fine and normal situation that you have an okay amount of control over. you got this. you have to.)
you return to the hut, retrieving the other half of your fruit and taking it with you into your pitiful shelter. at least you didn’t have to worry about rain…
it was only slightly cramped beneath the pile of junk, but you had enough room for you and your food. you laid there for a long time, occasionally peeling off pieces to eat. you didn’t know how much was left, and you didn’t think about it, distracting yourself by thinking about tomorrow. if you were clever with some sticks you could fashion some wider soles for your shoes to get more grip on the sand, or maybe a hat to keep from burning… but there was water and food to worry about, but the area along the wall was certainly dangerous, but it might be worth it if it meant you lived a little longer…
you fell asleep at some point, the faint sweetness of your dinner lingering on your tongue.
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normally, waking up to someone barely a foot from your person would be unsettling. in your situation, it was terrifying.
you immediately pushed yourself back, crawling backwards away from nahida. she was kneeling, seeming surprised at your actions. you almost wondered how she was out here, and in your survey of the area, it clicked.
you weren’t in the hut anymore. you’d missed it in your fear, but you were lying on grass, in a small meadow. you didn’t pay too much attention to it though, putting a hand to your chest to try and calm your heart.
“just a dream,” you breathed, and nahida’s expression fell. not into anger, more.. sadness?
“i’m sorry if i startled you.” her voice was soft, but flat, motions stiff as she stood up and dusted off her dress.
what a weird dream. first you’re lucid, then she’s here… maybe it was wishful thinking. maybe your brain had finally had enough.
“it’s fine,” you said, taking another look around the field. tall trees arched high above you, the bushes and ferns between them reminding you of the rainforest. in the center were three chairs, with various plates laid out on the table between them. you stood, automatically wiping for any grass caught on you, only to find that you were actually wearing clean clothes again—one of your favorite outfits, actually.
you mostly ignored nahida as you walked to the table, looking over the various dishes. you recognized a few as sumeru recipes, but not all of them, deciding to pick at a bowl of fruit instead. you’re not sure how dreams work here—you haven’t had many since coming to teyvat—but it feels safer to stick with a food you’ve actually tried before.
(you ignore the nut from the oasis. calculated risk.)
“i hope they’re to your liking?” nahida’s voice is hesitant as she comes to your side, sitting in one of the chairs. you don’t do the same.
“i’m surprised i remember so many of these,” you say instead, looking over the sheer variety of food laid out. your subconscious has done well.. almost a bit too well.
“eat. you need the energy.”
“i’ll just miss them in the morning, and it’s not like they’ll give me any actual nutrition.”
“…please, my god.”
your head whips to her in an instant, the fruit falling from your hand as if it was poison. it could be, considering everything.
even after all these months, you’d let your guard down. in front of the one god who had control over dreams, you ate of her food and showed that you were weak.
nahida raises her hands, and you have half a mind to grab a knife off the table. it wouldn’t do anything, but it would make you feel better. “it’s just me. there’s nobody else in this dream.”
you should have known better. “leave me alone.”
“i mean you no harm, i only-“
you put your hands over your ears and close your eyes, trying to make yourself wake up. you pictured the walls of the hut, of your makeshift shelter and the leaves of last night’s dinner. you pretend you can’t hear her voice, that the only sound is the whisper of the wind.
if only you’d remembered her powers quicker, or perhaps discovered yours sooner.
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you don’t know how long it took you to break free from the dream, or if you managed to break it at all. you just knew that you woke up to the sounds of talking from outside your hut, the words were faint but still discernible from the wind. two voices, one soft and one rough, picking their way around the oasis.
you didn’t dare try to run, instead shifting some of the wood in your pile to cover the entrance. where could you even go if they found you? west was dangerous, east was deadly, north led you into either a sandstorm or a dead-end sea, and south was entirely uncharted, and that was assuming you even made it that far.
they came closer, and you reached for one of the smaller planks in your small shelter. it was still about the length of your forearm, and though the rest of the stack shifted, you felt a bit safer. maybe you could hide in a cave for a while until they left? no, that would mean you’d have to get enough of a lead to lose them, and you doubted you could run that fast.
“-abandoned.” there was a sound like a rock kicked against the side of the hut, covering the sound of your breath as you recognized the voice. “you sure this is the right place?”
wanderer.
“i’m certain, i saw it myself.”
and nahida. she probably tapped into your mind to see where you were trying to wake up to… it would be clever if your life wasn’t on the line.
footsteps drew ever closer, and it was getting hard to judge the distance. the hut was empty save for your little scrap pile, but how close was too close? could you even have a chance with wanderer’s skill? not to mention the dendro archon…
maybe you were doomed from the start. there was no good ending for you, just a constant delay of the fate that you dodged when you first set foot on this planet.
how long has it been? how much time have you borrowed? teyvat had ghosts, would you become one? would you return to earth? did your earth even exist anymore? this was not the time for this debate…
a shadow moved, and nahida’s voice was far closer than it was before. “divine one?”
you bit your cheek as to not laugh. ‘divine one.’ she already had a god, the one that had ordered this mess to begin with. the first person you ran into, ironically, who had on sight declared you a criminal. you didn’t want to be associated with that person at all, thank you. did she think that you thought you were the god? you wouldn’t be hiding if you did.
“buer. you’re talking to a pile of sticks.”
“i’m aware.” her voice grew quieter, like she’d turned around. “but we need to be patient.”
“there’s an easier way to do this, you know.”
“after all that’s happened? there’s no easy solution to this.”
“that’s not what i…” he sighed. “can i show you something?”
“what is it?”
the air hissed, your pile broken by a blade of wind down the middle. the anemo curved around you, acting as a shield as the wood splintered and flew. you quickly pushed yourself up, sitting against the wall and looking between the two of them. nahida looked terrified, and the shock on wanderer’s face is comical. looks like he didn’t expect you to actually be in there.
he removed his hat from his head, quickly dropping to one knee, nahida doing the same barely a moment after. “my god.. i apologize for my haste.”
pardon?
nahida lifted her head, meeting your eyes with a hand to her chest. “and i’m sorry for invading your dream earlier. i just wanted to find you, and when i noticed you were in sumeru..”
wanderer is too prideful to apologize to anybody he doesn’t absolutely need to, even for a plan.. jut what’s going on here?
you fix your attention on nahida and hope she’s not a good liar. “don’t you already have a god you follow?”
nahida flinched, looking away. “that… was a mistake. i should have trusted my instincts, and for that i’m sorry. i had no idea that my silence would lead to this…”
either she’s a really convincing actor, or she means it. given the severity of the situation, you don’t want to assume.
“if it helps…” wanderer’s hands tighten on his hat, and he bows his head further. “my anemo protected you. even if i did mean to cause harm, that is more than enough proof of your identity.”
“…so i’m supposed to believe you? just like that?”
nahida shook her head. “i understand your apprehension. it’s hard to trust someone after everyone else has betrayed you, and i don’t expect you to come with me to the sanctuary right away. aaru village is close by, though, and i was hoping you would be willing to go there..?”
some part of you still thinks it’s a trick, that there would be a swarm of matra waiting for you. but honestly… running is tiring, and nahida is kind. you want to believe her, even if it does end up going poorly. what else do you have to lose, really?
you drop your poor excuse for a weapon, briefly checking your hands for splinters before standing up. you kick aside the remains of your dinner and dust yourself off, walking forward. “alright. i’ll go with you.”
nahida beams.
1K notes · View notes
lizzieisright · 3 months
Note
I actually asked another creator this too, but if your requests ARE open, can you do a comfort fic where Abby starts dating reader and it's like her first relationship outside of a manipulative/controlling/abusive relationship? where abbys just super sweet and reassuring and just :((
I love your writing sm so!!
Palestine: what can you do
I'm ready to suffer (and I'm ready to hope)
Okay actually I saw these amazing women who are paediatric PTs on youtube and thought Abby would make an amazing paediatric PT, so this is modern au! 
Tw for the mentions of abusive situations. 
/-/-/-/-/-/-
When you finally leave Sandy you swear to not ever date again.
And you don’t.
You find a therapist and start spending more time with your friends again. They’re incredibly supportive of you and they don’t let you sit at home, always asking you to hang out or go somewhere. They’re eager to introduce the world back to you and it’s wonderful, but you’re exhausted. Sandy took every piece of you and it's damn hard work to gain it back, and dealing with the fear of being shamed for not having a good time when your friends put so much effort into it is very hard. It takes a lot of reminders from them to make you feel okay, but somewhere in your mind you still expect them to blow out on you. They never do.
And you start to feel like you’re in a good place now. Of course, when we feel like we’re finally free, the Universe needs us to remember how much work is still ahead of us. Your reminder comes to your work at the end of the work day on Friday with a bouquet of lilies that smell as suffocating as the person holding them.
“Hi baby.” Sandy smiles at you, but you don’t move closer than 3 feet. You want to go around her if she had a bomb in these flowers.
The good thing - you expected it. You weren’t surprised to see her here, so she lost her element of shock that would have disarmed you.
“What do you want?” You ask coldly.
“Come on baby, it’s Friday! I thought it would be a good time for us to go on a date, discuss what happened and you know, make up. I miss you.”
You clench your fists. She wants to discuss what happened - is she ready to admit her mistakes and change? Is it a sign that everything will work out this time?
No. No “this time”.
“I have plans.”
The angry furrow on Sandy's face just proves you made the right decision. The bouquet falls on the floor and she starts crying.
“I thought you loved me!” Sandy howls and your colleagues are now paying attention to the whole situation. “You have a date, don't you? Already moved on, huh? Fucking slut.”
It's humiliating, but you understand with horror that you're used to it. It's not the first time when your coworkers see Sandy in this state.
“I'm just hanging out with Niki.” You reassure Sandy because you don't want to hurt her - she is a human after all and she was always so jealous, so insecure about your loyalty. People betrayed her in the past, and you have a hard time blaming her.
“Of course, the moment I'm out of the picture Niki is there to lick your wounds! I bet she does more than just licking your wounds.”
The shame flares up and you take a breath. You slipped up. You fell for her shit again.
“It doesn't concern you anymore.”
You don't wait for her answer, too scared she will get to you again. You turn around and go into the office where she will not be allowed to follow.
At your next appointment with your therapist, you're pissed off at yourself.
“Why did I even speak to her? I knew it would end badly!”
“Well, it's normal to speak to people when they speak to you. You told her you're busy and she tried to manipulate you again, but you slowed down, noticed what she was doing, and made the right decision. I'd say this situation shows how much progress you've made. You protected yourself.”
These words bring you back to reality. You sigh.
“She will come to my work again.”
Dr. Spencer hums.
“You told me before that you would like to explore different opportunities in your work field. Maybe you should take yourself on that.”
This is how you end up getting a job as the nurse in a paediatric clinic. It is in a different place of the city and takes a different route, so Sandy won’t be able to catch you at a metro station if she tries. You don’t tell your colleagues where you’re going, just saying you wanted to take time for yourself and relax, removing the possibility of Sandy finding you again.  
You're excited - working with kids and helping them seems like an opportunity to heal something in yourself by doing something good. The head of the clinic, Sevika, gives you a tour after your final interview to meet the team and she also introduces you to the doctor you’ll be working with.
“Doctor Anderson?” Sevika calls when you enter the office. “Do you have a minute?”
“Yeah, hang on.” The voice of this woman is soft and friendly, and it reassures you.
“I want you to meet your new nurse.”
Something falls and you hear a children’s song playing and the room is not illuminated by different colours. Adorable.
“Sorry, it’s a mess here.” You hear her voice again and then Dr. Anderson emerges.
You just stare. She is tall and has broad shoulders, her compression shirt under her scrubs shows off her muscled arms - which is expected, she is a PT - her blonde hair is braided and her braid rests on her shoulder. Dr. Anderson is incredibly pretty, and you’re a woman enough to admit it and stay professional.
“Hi. I’m Abby.” Dr. Anderson smiles and holds her hand for a handshake.
You tell her your name and shake her hand - god, the grip these women have here.
“Would you walk Ms. (Y/n) through everything here?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Dr. Anderson shows you everything: where is all the equipment, the toys for kids, the changing room. She tells you all about the protocols - which you’re familiar with as well, except for dealing with overprotective parents and dealing with kids’ pain: at your previous clinic you mostly worked with adults.
“I’m very excited.” You admit after your tour is finished.
“Yeah?” Dr. Anderson grins. “Be prepared to learn a lot of baby songs.”
You laugh and feel very optimistic. You feel like you can have your life back now.
Your first day might not go as smoothly as you wanted, but Dr. Anderson is patient with you. She doesn’t snap at you when you follow her instruction wrong for the third time and doesn’t tell you off after patients leave. She just gives you tips and leaves it to you to correct it. You don’t know if she notices how you flinched in fear when you made a mistake the first time or if she is always like this, but you’re grateful anyway.
The kids are adorable and resilient, they don’t give up and it makes you cry a little. The way Dr. Anderson praises them and holds them and explains to parents what she is doing is admirable. Watching her hold a 3yo toddler on her palms is equally impressive and attractive. Dr. Anderson is attractive, it’s hard not to be drawn to her, but you shove your emotions deep, deep down - it’s incredibly unprofessional. You complain about it to Dr. Spencer and she just chuckles and reminds you, “Attraction happens unconsciously and you can’t control it, so stop fighting it.” It annoys you that she is right.
After three months working together you become friends and you call Dr. Anderson Abby now. Because honestly, she looks absolutely ridiculous in her Hello Kitty cap. You find your rhythm and now you work extremely smoothly - you know exactly when the kid needs to be distracted or when Abby needs your help during different exercises.
And Abby doesn’t tell you - because she is also aware how unprofessional she is - but she adores you. You’re so good with kids it makes Abby jealous sometimes, how you somehow know what exactly will stop the kid from crying. You’re also good with her - you take as much as possible from her shoulders and Abby now has someone to rely on.
She knows she is ears deep in love when you send her a video of a bright squeaky octopus and tell her you’re going to buy it for her office and then a few days later you admit to her that it’s actually a dog toy and you got in a pet section. Abby cackles and promises not to tell anyone. Especially since the octopus is a hit with a few kids she is treating.
Abby is desperate. She knows she can’t ask you on a date, but love makes a fool out of the best of us, so on the day that marks four months since you’ve been working together, Abby goes to Sevika’s office to embarrass herself.
“You’re embarrassing yourself, Dr. Anderson.” Sevika tells her as much. “Ms. (Y/n) is not employed by you and you have no authority over her. Ask the girl out and don’t waste my time. If it goes south I’ll just send her to Grayson.”
“Thanks, Sevika.”
“Get the fuck out, Anderson.”
Abby laughs and goes back to work, hopeful.
And Abby is not delusional - you do like her. She is caring and patient and funny as hell. But you’re too scared both because you’re her nurse and because as much as you work in therapy, Sandy doesn’t let go of you. Dr. Spencer had to deal with your multiple spirals after you started working with Abby and fucking up or thinking you’re fucking up. “Now name me 10 things that are different about Dr. Anderson and Sandy” was said at least 5 times. Well, your life is routine based so you schedule your spirals once a month, it seems.
So yes, you like Abby a lot. But you’re so broken that when Abby finally gains courage and,
“Do you have plans this weekend?”
“Sleep for 12 hours counts?” You laugh, oblivious.
“Would you-“ Abby takes a big breath and now you’re panicking, scared she’ll tell you something mean. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”
You just stand there and stare at her in shock. Abby gives you time, but her nerves are not that strong, so she gives up when the silence starts to feel too big.
“I’m sorry.” Abby says as politely as possible, not wanting to burden you with her disappointment. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“I-uh- no, it’s okay! I just- I didn’t expect it.” You say while anxiety is buzzing inside you. “I upset you, I’m sorry.” You cringe when you understand you projected onto Abby again.
“Hey, it’s totally fine. I understand, believe me.” Abby smiles.
You’re too scared to agree - you don’t feel like you’re ready for dating - so you let the awkward silence fill the room.
That evening you spend overthinking, convincing yourself Abby deserves better, that you’re not good enough for her and you can’t involve her in your issues.
“So Dr. Anderson, who you like, likes you back?” Dr. Spencer asks when you retell her the whole story. “Why don’t you tell her you’d go on a date with her?”
“Because I’m not what she needs. She needs someone who is better than whatever I am.” Dr. Spencer nods compassionately. She wants to bring your attention to how you speak about yourself, but she chooses to go on a different route.
“Don’t take her choice away. Let her decide what she needs. After all, who is the expert on her needs?”
“She is.” You admit and feel like you can breathe again. You're not responsible for Abby's choices, so you can't decide for her. It makes you feel free.
Abby is not having the time of her life on Saturday evening, moping around and cringing at herself for asking you out and reading the situation wrong, when her phone rings. She sees your contact and her heart speeds up from anxiety and hope.
“Hello?”
“Hi, it’s me. I-um. I’m sorry for yesterday, I was just- Sorry, not the point. Is your offer still standing?” You sound extremely nervous and it’s cute. Abby smiles and chuckles, happy.
“Yes. Of course.” She says softly and hears your shaky sigh. “Are you free tomorrow?”
You’re very nervous on your first date with Abby - you don’t want to upset her. So you dress and redress and redress until you think you don’t look too embarrassing. Abby smiles and compliments your outfit when she sees you, and some of your anxiety goes away. You’re painfully aware that you feel like you’re walking on eggshells during your date - Abby took you to an art gallery and then to dinner - and you know it’s not because of Abby. Abby has been so sweet and considerate the whole time and you’re sure she doesn’t feel comfortable with how tense you are at some moments, but the past still grips you tightly.
So you come clean to her when you go for a walk after dinner.
“I’m sorry I’ve been weird.” You start and Abby looks at you to show that she is listening. “My past relationship was not great and I’m dealing with the aftermath now. Sometimes it’s hard for me to stay grounded in reality.” You’re so deeply ashamed of yourself you can’t look at Abby. You expect her to dump you right away, or laugh at you, or call you weird, but nothing like this happens.
“Oh.” She says, surprised. She thought you were just shy, but it makes sense. “Thank you for telling me. Is it why you didn’t agree to the date when I asked you on Friday?”
“Yeah. Sorry.” You cringe, but Abby looks at you softly.
“Don’t. We all have our battles. I’m glad you called me back.”
You can’t help your smile. Abby can’t help but to ask if she can kiss you.
The first sign of how “not great” your past relationship was happens three weeks into dating. It was the end of the day and you were packing your things when your phone made a sound. You quickly checked it and then looked at Abby, panicked. Abby stops packing her bag, worried.
“Did something happen?”
“N-no. My friend just texted me. She asked me if we could go for drinks.” You admit, scared to lie to Abby and scared she will not be pleased with you. “Can I?”
“Can you what?” Abby asks, confused, but your mind is registering it as anger. You take a breath to calm down.
“Can I go? If you don’t want me to, I won’t, I promise.”
Abby stops completely. Her heart breaks when she understands what is happening, and why it’s happening.
“Baby, hey. Take a breath, yeah?” She speaks softly and comes closer to you to hold your hands gently. “I’m not going to be mad if you go anywhere, especially to meet your friends. You don’t need to ask my permission, okay? You’re your own person with your own life.”
You sniffle and Abby coos and hugs you tightly.
“I’m sorry.” You say into her shoulder. “I just-“
“It takes time to heal. I understand.” You cry even harder in her arms. “I promise I’m not going to be mad about it. Can’t be sure about Kyle though.”
You laugh through your tears - Kyle is a two year old who is obsessed with the noises you can make. It’s the only thing that keeps him calm when he does his exercises, and you have to be in the room during his appointments.
“Thank you.” You tell Abby honestly and she kisses your forehead.
You’re still nervous when you go to see Niki the next day, but Abby just tells you to be safe and call her if you need her, and that she can pick you up if you want her to. You’re not sure, and you tell her that, and that you will text her if you change your mind. It’s scary, to put a boundary, but Abby just kisses your cheek and tells you to have fun.
“You look so happy.” Niki tells you after you caught up on mundane news and gossip.
“I’m actually dating someone.” You confess and Niki's mouth hangs open in a dramatic shock.
“Really? And how is it going? What’s her name? Do you have a picture?”
“Her name is Abby. We work together, and she is amazing.” You giggle and show Niki one of the pictures you took together when you were fooling around at the clinic.
“Wow. She looks strong.” Niki winks and you get flustered. “I hope she treats you well.”
“I told her about Sandy. She has been very patient with my bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit.” Niki frowns, stubborn. “Sandy is a fucking psycho and she really hurt you.”
“Abby told me she can pick me up if I want her to, but I’m not sure. It’s hard to understand what is normal behaviour and what is not.” You admit and Niki squeezes your bicep, showing her support.
“Well, when we hung out while you were with Sandy, she texted you constantly and then showed up ten minutes later to drag you out of here.”
“It wasn’t like this at first.”
“No, at first she was just constantly texting you and asking you about stupid shit.” Niki says pointedly and eyes your phone that hasn't made a sound during the whole evening. "I think your girlfriend just cares about you. You know, like a decent person."
You end up texting Abby and asking her to come when you and Niki feel like it’s time to go home. Abby replies with a thumb up, and then 20 minutes later she enters the pub and smiles at you. You introduce Niki to Abby and they shake hands while you laugh at Niki’s face when she gets to experience a handshake with a PT.
“Are you ready to go or do you guys want to have some more time? I’ll wait.” Your heart feels swollen from feelings: Abby is so sweet you can’t help but nuzzle into her side. “I feel like this is the answer.” She chuckles and Niki coos at you two.
“Let’s go.” Niki smiles like a fox, happy to see you happy.
“Do you have a ride?” Abby asks Niki while she gives you her forearm to hold on to. “We can drop you off.”
“No, I called a taxi already.” She smiles and winks at you.
When you go outside Abby takes off her jacket and places it around you shoulders and you smile like a lovesick idiot. It’s not even this chilly, but Abby still thinks of your comfort.
When Niki is safe in her taxi, you both get inside Abby’s car as well.
“Did you have fun?”
“Yeah.” You smile.
“Good.”
The fights, as it turns out, are not scary or loud or violent - you’re baffled by the fact that Abby actually listens to you when you voice your concerns. You expect her to lash out or tell you you’re imagining things or that you’re making a villain out of her, but nothing like this happens. Abby has her own issues: she is very problem-solving focused and her first reaction is “how can I/we fix this”, and it hurts when you actually want her to comfort you, but you both learn how to deal with it. You honestly can’t even call them fights, they’re more like troubleshoots.
What is scary is that the first few times when you voice your problems and Abby reacts like a normal person, you bottle up your anxiety. You exhaust yourself with overthinking: is Abby going to leave you? Are you too much to handle? Are you being a burden? How long before your stupid whims will make Abby sick of you?
You can’t bear it. You see how patient Abby is with kids, how she pushes them just enough for them to progress and evolve, how kind she is, how she calls them “sirs” and “ma’ams” when they do something on their own, and all you can think is that you don’t deserve her. How amazing Abby is and how fucked up you are, and how much problems you cause.
You’re spiralling, and you know it, able to recognise your own insanity now, but you can’t stop it. But the one thing Dr. Spencer taught you is to speak up, and one day, when you’re at Abby’s place, you find your courage to speak up.
“Am I being too much?”
“Hm?” Abby is confused. She is often confused when your issues come out of nowhere. “What do you mean?”
“Will you break up with me because I ask for too much?” You ask quietly, really trying to ignore how your voice shakes because you’re on the verge of tears.
Abby stares at you for a second, but in the next she is hugging you. The dam inside you breaks and you sob into her chest, letting all anxiety go out.
“I will not leave you. I’m here. You don’t ask for too much, baby, you barely ask for anything. Ask for more, ask the world from me, okay? Ask for the most ridiculous shit, it’ll only make me love you more.” Abby murmurs and your sobs get louder. “Let it out, yeah, let it out. I love taking care of you, it’s my favourite thing in the world.”
“I’m just so scared.” You say into Abby’s chest as you cling to her. “I want to be deserving of you.”
“Baby, you’re deserving of me just by existing. You’re here and this alone makes me happy.”
Abby lets you cry it out and then brings you some water when you calm down. You are still vulnerable and anxious, but Abby cuddles you and talks to you to soothe you. 
“Do you think I'm weak?” You ask her ten minutes later and Abby chuckles. 
“Quite the opposite, actually. I don't think if I went through what you did I would ever let myself trust someone again. But you are brave. And you're so incredibly kind and thoughtful. The only weakness you have is probably sweets.” You both chuckle. “And I'm very angry that there's a person who dared to hurt you like this and put this bullshit into your head. Honestly, can you give me her address? I know exactly how to break her bones.”
“Can you promise to tell me if dealing with me gets tiring?”
“Of course.” Abby promises you genuinely, because she knows this moment might come - she is only human. But she knows that even when this moment comes, she will be by your side. 
+ 1 nsfw
When you first have sex you're both very worked up and you cling to Abby impatiently, clawing at her shirt and her pants, not really sure what you want to be gone first. Abby thinks it's cute, how needy you are, and she tells you as much before she can think.
“Someone is needy, huh?” She teases you and expects you to get flustered, but instead you freeze and look at her, wide eyed and hurt. 
“Sorry.” You say, ashamed, and Abby's heart breaks. She takes your face into her palms and looks into your eyes with such tenderness you have to look away. 
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like this. I like how enthusiastic you are. It makes me feel wanted.” Abby smirks and your cheeks heat up. “Is there… is there anything I need to be careful about?”
“I’m not really good at sex.” You admit. “I wasn't able to make my ex cum.” You don't tell Abby the whole story, you don't want to ruin the mood, but Sandy was never happy with your skills: she had to watch porn on her phone to get aroused when you topped. And she hated when you didn't do as she wanted when you bottomed and how needy and pathetic you were. 
“Well. I don't trust your ex’s opinion since she is a piece of shit.” Abby smirks. “And sex it not about destination-”
“It’s about the journey, I know.” You chuckle. Dr. Spencer likes this saying so much. You take a breath and brace yourself: you know sex is not a place where you can hide something from Abby without hurting you both. Honesty is crucial in sex. “I don't think I can undress fully. Can I leave my shirt on?”
“Of course. Can I- can I still touch you under it? I really wanna feel how soft your tits are.”
You hide your face in embarrassment and giggle. You nod and Abby kisses your cheek.
“If you don't enjoy something, tell me, yeah? And if you want we can really make your ex look stupid.” 
“How?”
“With you I really don't need much to cum. One stroke wonder if you will.”
You snort and hit Abby's shoulder. 
“You're horrible.”
Abby grins and kisses you. You do make Sandy look stupid that night, when Abby's thighs close around your head and she cums on your face so hard your ears start to ring. 
509 notes · View notes
chxrryhansen · 4 months
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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Cevans One Shot Rec List
here you will find all of my favourite chris evans + characters fanfiction recommendations, i have many more to add and will continue to update this list. Please don’t forget to reblog these amazing writers fics as they deserve so much love!💘💘
Walk On The Wild Side - @hansensgirl
you just wanted to go for a stroll down the road—but he wants you to take a walk on the wild side. (Dark!Chris Evans)
You Better Not Pout, Better Not Cry - @hansensgirl
they know if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake. (Dark!Multi character) - i would add every single one of her fics to this list if i could💘
Sinful Devotion - @evansbby
Lloyd promises to let you go, but he demands a depraved repayment. (In other words, Lloyd pops your cherry)- my favourite writer in the whole universe💘
Smothered With Bliss - @whereireid
Is it hard being married to the most influential man in America? You most certainly think it is. — Steve Rogers: Captain America, the heart of his nation, the soul of his country. After returning home from a particularly bad day at work, Steve finally snaps, deciding you need re-educating on how to be the perfect housewife.
The Night - @misshoneybee
Working as the Barber family's nanny is a piece of cake, but what happens when the dad you've been tip-toeing around all year comes home late one night to find you asleep in his bed, wearing his favorite sweater?
Little Miss Red - @anika-ann
Ransom’s looking for a good time tonight, when you walk through the door, he knows he’ll get it. And you? Oh you’ll get it too. He's going to make sure of it.
Unholy Errand - @buckets-and-trees
You're caught in the crosshairs when a hit goes out for your boss. (Dark!Lloyd Hansen + Dark! God The Bounty Hunter + Ransom Drysdale)
What A Shirt Can Tell - @justalonelyslytherin
5+2 times Colin asked 'Is that my shirt?' plus the one time he got asked it. Aka a look through the journey of Colin and his girl, each in which his shirts play an important role.
Start Again - @wkemeup
A chemical spill, uncontrollable desires rushed to the surface, an unbridled need, and the consequences in the aftermath (Steve Rogers)
Daddy’s Little Pet - @sinner-as-saint
You and Steve are the epitome of ‘opposites attract’. He is the American hero, a super soldier who is known for his bravery, and righteousness and for being the one leading the Avengers. You, on the other hand, are a well-known fashion designer in the city. Creator and owner of your own brand, and elite boutique. At first glance, it doesn’t seem like you and Steve would be compatible. But you surprisingly are. And behind closed doors, in secrecy – you two are each other’s solace, each other’s definition of home. He’s your strong, loving and caring man. And you, his lovely, little pet whom he adores more than life itself.
Good Girls And Skype Calls - @youre-deadangel
chris gives you a treat for behaving.
Afternoon Delight - @christowhore
you're steve's live-in housekeeper and find your boss and his friends having a bbq on a heatwave stricken afternoon. they invite you to join them and show you all the pleasurable ways to cool down from the sun. (SoftDark!Steve Rogers + Sam Wilson + Bucky Barnes)
Got You - @hispeculiartreasure
The two of you had grown close over the last year; first as teammates, then as friends. You had been distant at the start, just as he had. Slowly, agonizingly - blood, sweat, and tears were definitely involved - walls were dismantled. A current of trust ran between you, one which caught Steve by surprise. As dense as he could be about matters of the heart, suspicions of his blossoming romantic feelings being mutual had proven true with a simple kiss. (Sex Pollen, Steve Rogers)
Golden Boy - @bucksfucks
you’ve always called steve the golden boy, but he snaps one night and decides to show you he’s anything but. (Roommate!Steve Rogers)
It Must Be That Old Evil Spirit - @vonalyn
There’s something unsettling about his demeanor but you can’t quite put your finger on it. As if there’s something hiding beneath the surface just waiting to pry its way out of the tight shirt across his broad frame and tear your throat out. Maybe it’s your general unease around others when you’re traveling alone, or maybe it’s just him.  (Jack-O-Lantern!Ari Levinson)
Stupid Kitty - @onsunnyside
Your father wrongfully entrusted Lloyd to care for you—it’s too bad he’ll never get you back. (Lloyd Hansen x Cat-Hybrid!Reader)
Manners- Or Lack Of Them - @rogerswifesblog
Ransom wants you, the sweet girl at the bar…but you’re not what he expected you to be. (Sub!Ransom Drysdale + Mommy!Reader)
Shadow Boxer - @mypoisonedvine
you’re stuck in the same destructive cycle with ransom, but maybe you don’t want to get out of it. (Angst + Smut, Ransom Drysdale)
It’s Not A Challenge - @gagmebucky
His jaw ticks. “It’s not a challenge, doll,” he bites out. “It’s a warning. If I tried to get inside you, I’d split you in half in the process.” His eyes flicker down, and your nipples are pebbles against the thin, easily-rippable fabric—you’re testing him, and he’s failing. “Goddamn it,” he hisses underneath his breath. “That - that shouldn’t turn you on.” Bristling, he drops his hand and pedals backward—he’s on his last thread, and it’s his sole chance to make a clear-headed decision. (Boxer!Steve Rogers)
Pretty Princess - @frostironfudge
Andy Barber gets jealous when he presumes you shared a room with one of his associates.
Over And Over - @frostironfudge
Ari Levinson is a possessive man, he'll punish you till you apologise.
Such A Good Boy - @lilacevans
You and Ari attend a business meeting, and at the beginning the other boss you're meeting with just assumes that Ari is the one in charge; however, that's not the case. While you look dainty, angelic, like you couldn't even hurt a fly, you're the one who runs the family and will not hesitate to fuck up anyone who stands in your way. (Puppy!Ari Levinson) - one of my favourite fics EVER.💘
Breathe - @buckyownsmylife
The one where the new co-star is obsessed with the idea of making Chris hers, but he makes sure to show her you’re the only one for him.
Justified - @dbnightingale24
Ransom has always been the center of your world you’ve always been the center of his. However, when he can’t change his ways and you’re tired of the heartbreak, is it really so bad if you think it’s best to walk away? Ransom thinks so. - one of the sweetest most talented writers i have ever met💘
My, My, My - @1800jjbarnes
Stevie couldn't help it. Every time he saw you, he felt himself grow heavy in his slacks. You were everything he needed. And he needed you now.
All The Time - @geminixevans-stan
He is one of the most powerful men on earth but there’s more worse than him (Dark!Lloyd Hansen + Dark!Nick Fowler)
Snack - @katherineswritingsblog
he just wants his snack- which is you.
Watchful Eyes - @espinosaurusrexex
When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself. (CEO!Steve Rogers)
Cherry On Top - @dcllbows
you’ve found your favorite way to help your daddy with his grownup work. (Ddlg, Daddy!Andy Barber)
Voracious - @arilevinsons
The first time he set eyes on you; you were his sudden infatuation. (DarkProfessor!Ari Levinson)
Best Friend’s Dad - @imyourbratzdoll
you've been pining over your best friend's dad and decide to take your chance, knowing he's out and your best friend is asleep, you be a little bit naughty and touch yourself on his bed, not knowing he's coming home early.
The Breeding Ground - @fl0werfae
To others, Ari’s house was a breeding ground for him and his omega, but to him it was just fulfilling her purpose of carrying his pups. (Alpha!Ari Levinson)
My Sweet Pea - @mavsstar
Mr. Levinson lives right next door to you, the sweet, innocent college girl. Little do you know that you're Mr. Levinson's favorite neighbor. He's there every chance you need the slightest of help, maybe a little too much. (Trailer Park Au)
Like A Movie Scene In The Sweetest Dream - @worksby-d
Johnny’s always been on your “no” list, but you've finally agreed to work with him. (Pornstar!Johnny Storm)
Easy As Pie - @navybrat817
You bake pies for Andy, but you're still his favorite treat.
535 notes · View notes
thatdeadaquarius · 4 months
Note
GREETINGS! How are you doing? I've been practically gobbling up your posts (there very tasty)
Ok so hear me out- I've seen a couple posts like this but imagine-
The almighty all powerful wise creator isss
✨️A literal child✨️
Thanks for hearing me out! For you ->->❤️
Baby you taking on the world aw
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DAMN SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER!! i started fics before i answered my askbox :/
Aw i fucking love child reader stuff,
Lots of isekai animes/manhwa/manga do it and i eat that shit up everytime-
I also deeply appreciate when its not done creepily, like being turned 8 again, and having crushes on others who are... yknow, actually 8 yrs old or sm fucked up shit, like even if its 16 yr olds that doesnt make it any better, bc the protag will actually be like,, actually 20?!?!💀 the straights r wild man, i feel like it happens either way too, like its usually a male MC but thats just bc theyre more common tbh, like regardless of gender of protag 🥲
Sun: Child God Reader (you/they/them)
Orbit: Short Headcanons
Stars: Mondstadt ppl bc i don't show them i love them enough
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: none known & Trigger Warnings: none known.
Please comment any I missed. /gen
Klee has recruited converted you to throwing bombs with her.
You are the only leash on that child too and the only thing standing between Jean and full head of gray hair. 💀
Kaeya doesn’t know whether he’s endlessly worried or endlessly amused that the most powerful god is currently a child
if Jean isnt freaking out over ur whereabouts, Diluc is instead, and worst case scenario, Noelle/Lisa/Albedo is in charge of you
and YES someone has to look out for you, bc ur ass will just start making a hot springs spot like ur in ur teapot or smth in dragonspine (Albedo was fascinated it stayed warm despite the weather so he let you make it/enjoy it before asking u to restore natural order lol)
(Albedo has definitely asked to study you and, unfortunately for Jean, asked u to demonstrate several powers u have)
You do work as a lucky charm for Bennett tho so he does babysit u sometimes
it mostly consists of Fischl, Benny, and Razor “adventuring” by trying to do smth like who can jump on the Anemo slimes and ride them around longest
(the answer is you btw, u managed to get a small fleet of them to bus you around, the teens were simultaneously terrified running around below u to catch you and also amazed)
Noelle is so happy making toddler you all the pancakes you can eat, Sucrose had to stop her from going overboard and not just listening completely to kids when it comes to food
She is now very concerned with making you a balanced diet, tho she will still make u an ungodly tall stack of pancakes every now and then <3
They kind of all equally provide for you, obv ur their god, and ur a literal cutie patootie child, they cant just leave you
(also u might like move a mountain or change the weather or smth if they don't watch you so most are a little paranoid of that too)
Lisa gets u all kinds of cute outfits, still stuff you'd like, but definitely snuck in some sumeru looking clothing lol
Fischl lends you all kinds of books to read, Bennett shows u all the cool views in the city and outside of it (when Jean lets him get away with taking u that far), and Razor…
Razor brings you to Andrius and the wolf pack for a wolf pack party and gives u all kinds of shiny trinkets he’d collected for you
Diluc/Jean/Noelle/Eula nearly had a heart attack when they found out
Amber lets you have all the piggyback rides you want lol
she even managed with her own crafting powers (and your probably editing the game code or smth) she somehow makes a reinforced glider with a small harness on the back for you to glide with her
(Venti has definitely helped for some fun flights by boosting the winds for you two)
SPEAKING OF BARBATOS
ur absolutely spoiled rotten by him (and Dvalin, and Andrius, and the wind sprites)
if this god had money he’d spend it on wine and you lol
takes u flying all the time, any time, would drop everything to go to Mondstadt wilds and use his archon form wings to take you wherever you wanna go
tries to bring u to Angel’s Share but Diluc nearly hits him on the head with a wine bottle and brings you back home after kicking Venti out and giving you grape juice (yes you get all you want, within a healthy amount)
anyway the most important part abt you being a god and child is that you can now fulfill your childhood dreams of riding a dragon whenever you want
(one way to quickly get Mondstadt citizens to trust Dvalin again was just constantly seeing him flying overhead, occasionally seeing a small child on his back also helped lol)
(neither you nor Venti tell Jean you ride Dvalin and keep it an active secret from her.)
srry i took so long! i hope u liked my hot mess of writing (i think its even sloppier than usual bc of all the fic writing full sentences lately)
and if not, I'm sorrryyy 😭😭
I'm focusing on getting thru a haul of asks before getting around to posting that Eldritch AU Part 2 if anyone reads this :)
hope u guys are have a great weekend, thanks for all the birthday wishes!! :D
Safe Travels Anon,
💀♒
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If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"
(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")
♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit
@kiyomi-uchiha777
405 notes · View notes
non-stop-imagines · 7 months
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Cute
From this request 💖🤭
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Black Fem Content Creator!Reader (@/brinathedoll on ig faceclaim)
Summary: In which Charles thinks you're really cute and it gets annoying.
Word Count: ~10.4k words
Warning: Smut (p in v), face fucking, Hard!Dom Charles (bet that's a surprise), fingering, corruption kink (my best attempt), tummy bulge, "slut" being used a couple times, squirting, breeding kink towards the end, outfits, Twitter environment, mean comments, online translator French, ruining clothing, Minors DNI!!! 18+
A/N: It's 🏎️ anon's turn! 🥳 You have no idea how much I wanted to get to this one. Y'all already know how much I love Charles and this is my first smutty fic for him. I'm living the dream. 🤩 This one was fun, and the request was very helpful, very detailed it was a fic on its own! 🤣😚 Anyway hope you all enjoy. Thank you 🏎️ anon for your patience! I hope it lives up to your amazing idea! Love you all bbys!!! 💖💛💖💛💖
Translations: d'accord, mon amour=okay, my love;Putain de morveux=Fucking brat;Mon petit ange impatient=my eager little angel;Vous comprenez?=Do you understand?; Mon petit ange désordonné.=My messy little angel; Baise-moi=Fuck me; Mon parfait petit ange=My perfect little angel
Masterlist
______♥______
lyttleagnelyn
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Liked by carlossainz55 and 268,307 others
lyttleagnelyn 🌸°~♥Life with Charlie¹⁶♥~°🌸
View all 204 comments
charlesleclerc A perfect life if I say so myself 🥰
user1 🌸🩷🌸🩷
user2 You can see the obsession in his eyes 😍
lilymhe Cuties 🥰🪷🩷🌸
>lyttleagnelyn You and Alex are the blueprint 😚
user3 I need another clothing haul bc these outfits are so cute I CANT-
>lyttleagnelyn How about with a special guest? 👀
>user3 YES TF ❗❗
scuderiaferrari Petition for Charles' next special helmet to have rabbit ears on it 📜
>lyttleagnelyn I would happily help design it 🥰🐰
>charlesleclerc And I would happily wear it
>user6 If your your gonna DNF, you can at least look cute while doing it ☺️🌸🪷🐰
user4 That emo boys shirt is killing me cause you have the softest man in the world 😭
>lyttleagnelyn He tries his best 😔😭
user5 Charles.jpg in the works
>charlesleclerc I'm afraid those aren't for the public eye 😗
>lyttleagnelyn Charlie why??? 😭
>user5 Yes, Charlie why? 😭😭😭😭
>charlesleclerc They're just too cute for anyone else but me, mon ange
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"Thank you for doing this with me, baby. It'll be fun, I promise." You practically bounce around the excessive light pinkness of your filming room as you finish prepping everything for your video. Charles insisted that he created this room for you when you moved in with him months prior. "You need a room you feel comfortable in, mon ange." Is what he said when you tried to protest it, not wanting to take over his space, but here you were, getting ready to film on your pretty pink dedicated office.
"I don't doubt it, Mon ange." Charles sat in your computer chair, hugging to him a Hello Kitty plushie that originally sat close to it, watching you move around, waiting for you to start filming. "If it's anything like the makeup video, I know it'll be fun." He loved watching you in your element, around your things. He would paint his entire apartment pink if it meant he could see the smile you had and that sparkle in your eyes 24/7.
"You just liked the attention you got from that one." You walk over to him and fluff his hair bit before leaning down for a quick peck on the lips. "I have to give it to you, you knew your stuff."
"When your girlfriend takes as long as you do to get ready, you get curious." He's reluctant to release his arm that he wrapped around your waist when you approached him but he eventually does, letting his hand fall back to the plush in his lap when you head back over to the camera.
"Okay, ready?" You look back towards Charles, ready to press record on the tripod in front of you.
"Yep, ready." He gives you a thumbs up, now starting to twist in the rotating chair, still holding on to the stuffed animal. His eyes possessively surveyed you as you began your video.
"Heeelllooo my little lovelies, welcome back to another video. If your new here, hi, my name is Yn. I am here today with a very special guest making his first physical appearance on my channel, my loving and very trusting boyfriend, Charles. Aka Scuderia Ferrari Formula One driver Charles Leclerc." You beam, and playfully jog back to your computer chair, standing behind him and placing your chin on his head.
"Hello everyone." He doesn't even try to match your enthusiasm, going with his usual enthusiastic tone, because he knew from experience that no normal human being has as much energy as you do at any given moment.
"So if you noticed that I described my Charlie here as a very trusting boyfriend, it was because, unlike you all who know what this video will be, he does not. Charles just blindly agreed to joining me today. So, you want to know what I'm gonna have you do today?" You head was now next his, turned to the side so you were looking at his side profile which soon became a full view of his face where he gave you a quick kiss before answering.
"I would like to know, yes." He chuckled out his words and let an eye crinkling smile grow on his face.
"You, my love, are going to be rating some outfits for me made up of clothes that I already had and some stuff I just bought." You drape your arms over his shoulders, your full attention on him and his on you, you feeling warm under the excessively adoring eyes.
"Okay, that's interesting. So, like, on a scale of 1-10?" Charles seems to search for something in your face, a possible flicker of uncertainty that comes with ideas you have in instances where you liked the idea but the follow through made you too uncomfortable. This was not one of those times as you nod sprightly with gleaming eyes.
"Mhmm. If it's okay with you, of course. I kinda blindly roped you into this." Your smile drops slightly and one of your hands begin to swipe at Charles' over grown hair as you awaited his answer.
"If it's okay with you, it's definitely okay with me, mon ange. I like seeing your cute little outfits anyway." The eye crinkling smile was back on his face as you attacked his cheek with rapid-fire kisses, leaving light lip gloss marks.
"Thank you, baby! You're the best!" You press on last kiss you his lips and then plant yourself between the him and the camera to finish your intro. "Alrighty, let's not waste anymore time and get this started, shall we?" You turn to look at Charles catching him deep in thought, straight faced shifting jaw and darkened eyes. "I'll be right back with the first outfit, okay? You talk to the people." You disappear into the walk-in closet in the room to change, leaving Charles to do as told. Talk to the people.
"This is no different than when she usually comes home after shopping. I will happily stop whatever I am doing and watch her try on her new clothes." He looks away from the camera to take a brief gander around the room, knowing that you be able to edit the silent bits out later. His eyes roamed the light pink walls of the room, plastered in various equally pink posters, the white computer desk against the wall perpendicular to the bedroom door and a well organized pile of plushies on the other side of the room. The closest door to the right of the desk held an adorablely decorated mirror that directly faced the Classic Rose pink colored canopy bed that Charles also insisted was put in here for various reasons: being able to take naps, for example, when you wore yourself out from editing or other content related work that you would always throw your entire self into. There were, of course, less savory reasons that bed was in this room in that exact spot, but luckily the twist of the closest door knob brought him back to the reality and prepared him to see your first look.
"Okay, outfit number one. There will be about 10 by the way." You give that message to both your boyfriend and the camera before going back to posing and turning around so you whole outfit can be seen. You turn to face the camera to give your spiel on where each item was from whether it was part of the haul or you previously had it. Charles eyes moved up the back of you taking in how well the jeans fit your butt, how your shirt bunched up in the middle to show your midriff, giving your belly ring the backdrop it needs to be shown off against your brown skin. But none of those details caught his eye like the thin pink ribbon that was wrapped around your ponytail, bringing back that sense of innocence to the outfit that he enjoyed. Once you were done you turned to face Charles. "What do you think, baby?"
"You look very, very cute, Mon ange." You gleefully spin in another circle so he is able to get one more good look at the entire outfit.
"Mercí. So, on a scale of 1-10, what would you rate it?" You absentmindedly alternate a mild hyperextension of you knees as you waited for an answer.
"Erhm, I would rate it an 8." He says this with an emphasized tone that was very specific to him, pausing at certain words and elongating the "an".
"Okay...why an 8?" You walk into the hand that he lowly held out, ending up standing between his legs but standing to the side so the camera could see him, his fingers scaling over your exposed lower back.
"Uhh, again you look very cute, but it's a bit, uh, edgier that your other outfits. Also, you feel more comfortable in skirts than pants, no?" That gauging look was on his face, hoping that he had his facts straight and wasn't making a crude misjudgement.
"That's true, but these jeans made my butt look great, so I made an exception." You leave Charles' vicinity and move to your mirror to get a glimpse for yourself.
"That is true. The jeans fit you very well. That entire outfit fits you very well." His hands go back to squeezing the plush that he honestly forgotten was in his grasp when you walked out of arms length.
"Thank you." You bend over the slight bit to give him a short kiss, his thumb and ring finger needlessly propping up your chin. "Okay, next outfit!"
After another few minutes where Charles sat alone, reminiscing about the first outfit, you came out of your closet in the second outfit. "Okay, outfit number two."
The boy was stunned. He literally sat silent, jaw basically on the floor as he looked you up and down. "That is a 10. Hands down." He spoke with the utmost seriousness, making you feel a bit shy but also even more confident in the outfit that just felt completely you.
"That was quick. I didn't even get to talk to the people yet." You took a step closer to him letting the hand that he held out hold onto your thigh, fingers running over the pink fishnet stockings you had on.
"Oh, yes. Go do that." He shoots you away and you make quick work of explaining your outfit, wanting to hear why he was so swift in rating the outfit a 10.
"Okay, now why a 10?" You settle into his lap this time, plucking the plush from his lap and gently placing it on the floor.
"Well I love the pink. Pink is definitely your color." He pulls you closer to him as he examined your outfit a bit more. "The lace on your shirt, the uh-cor-um" He waves his hand around his own shirt, trying to remember the name of the type of shirt you had on that he has heard a number of times.
"Corset?" You remind him, your hands gravitating to his hair as they always do
"Oui! Yes, corset. The lace on it it beautiful. And I really like the stockings and the lace on those, too. This outfit really does make you glow." Your heart speeds up from how tenderly he says the last statement. His voice was a bit lower and more gruff, coaxing you into deep languid kisses until you remembered that the camera was still there, recording everything.
"Geez, your really trying to make me have to work at editing this thing huh?" You smack his chest and hand back the Hello Kitty plush that he accepts unhesitatingly, chuckling at your frantic realization.
"I have no idea what you are talking about." An adorable laugh is laced through his voice as he watches you disappear into the closet to change into your next outfit.
The rest of the video goes on basically in the same order: You come out in the outfit, give where each piece is from, and then turn to get Charles rating which was accompanied by various cheek warming praises ("You look absolutely adorable, Mon ange.", "That is perfect for you, baby.", "How are you so cute?"). After the last outfit, though, you had a small surprise for him.
"Okay, so I know I said 10 outfits, but I have one last thing I wanted to try on for you guys..." You spoke to the camera quickly then rushed off toward your closet, stopping and looking at Charles for a moment. "You're gonna like this one." And then as you did 10 times before, you disappeared behind the door, leaving Charles still holding the plush and racking his brain as to what this last outfit might be. A few minutes later, you open the door a crack. "So, I know that summer is nearly done, but there were so many swimsuits on sale so I knew I would've been crazy not to get at least one sooo..." You carefully step out of the closet with small steps, not yet passing the door for the camera to be able to see you. "You like it?" You bring pink acrylic nail to your teeth as you wait for an answer from, a now gawking, Charles.
"I-that-aaa-bwow. Ah, yes. I do like it. Alot." His eyes slowly move down your body, eyes obviously lingering on each piece of the bikini you had on. The lace trim that followed the curve of your boobs, the pink plaid and strawberry detailing. This then led to his eyes trailing down your exposed brown skin, shining against the pink like it always does, down your stomach, stopping briefly at your belly ring and then finishing down your legs, mind going to what's between them. He now finds a use for the Hello Kitty plush, clasping it to his lap to hide the major hard-on producing. He then cuts his eyes to the camera, remembering what he was there for, and cuts his eyes again, this time for the purpose of nonverbally asking "Are you okay with wearing that on camera?"
"Oh, it's fine, baby. I want to show them." You finally emerge from the closet to give a full view of yourself to the camera, going on to explain where the swimsuit is from and the details you like about it. Charles tuned every single word out now that he had a prolonged view of the backside on the ensemble, finally being able to see how great your ass looked, but it was a miniscule detail that really caught his eye. The thin pink ribbon that still held your hair in a ponytail. Your playful innocence flooding back to his vision of you in his mind, offseting the... provocative style of the girly patterned bikini. He clutched tighter to the plush in his lap.
"So, yeah. I just really liked it...and as you can see by the blank stare, Charles really likes it as well. It's different, huh? The fit of it is a bit sexier than my other ones, right?" You turn to Charles to ask the question and saunter into his arms, beginning to mess with his hair again just to see your decorated nails run through it.
"Sure, you could say that. But, um, I do really like you in it. It's very cute on you." He grins up at you with adoring eyes and gestures with his lips to request a kiss from you which you grant.
"Thank you. Now let me go put on some real clothes and I will be back to close out the video." You bound to the closet again after speaking to the camera. Charles sat patiently, the image of you in that bikini burned in his brain.
_________
"That was fun." Charles said as he finally got up from the computer chair, stretching out his limbs and carefully replacing Hello Kitty in the spot he plucked her from initially.
"Yay! I'm glad you had fun. I enjoyed it. You know how much I like trying out new outfit inspos." You unhook the camera from the tripod and briefly make sure at least something recorded.
"Inspos?" He stops his wandering about the room to inquire about the unfamiliar word.
"Short for inspiration, baby." You set the camera down and walk over Charles, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your chin on his chest.
"Ah. Yes, I do know how much you like trying on new clothes. And you looked adorable in each and every one. Especially that swimming suit." You giggle at yet another compliment and prop up onto your tip toes to accept the kiss he was craning his neck to give you.
"Thank you. For that and for doing the video." You hug close to him, getting a comforting huff of his cologne while his hand runs up and down your back.
"De rien, mon ange. Anything for you." He presses one more kiss to the top of your head, your vanilla scent strong enough to taste and thin pink ribbon in your hair still teasing him.
"Okay, you may go. Go do whatever Charles does while I edit, okay?" You wave him off toward the door and make your way to your desk, sitting criss cross on your computer chair.
"Okay, okay." He heads to the door to exit but turns to you, your back to him, already clicking through everything to begin editing. His eyes traced the pink ribbon that followed the gentle curve of your ponytail. That fucking ribbon. "Make sure you take a break, Mon ange. We can watch a movie or something."
"Okay!" You call back, waving him away. He giggled, shaking his head and closing the door most of the way. He had to distract himself. Every single outfit you tried on drove him crazy, the contrast the girlish pink ribbon added to each progressively provocative outfit, and the bikini, that drove him over the edge.
"Fuck it." Charles detoured into the bathroom and closed the door, pushing down his sweatpants just enough to release his cock from confinement, precum already beaded on the tip. Immediately he began stroking, providing the much needed friction to relieve the arousal that manifested. "Mon petit ange innocent, you drive my fucking crazy..."
_____
lyttleagnelyn
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Liked by lilymhe and 230,739 others
lyttleagnelyn A 10 in some 8s and 9s 🌸🪷🌸
(Go watch my new video and this will make sense. And to see the only outfit that was ranked a 10. Link in bio🩷)
View all 279 comments
user7 IT GIRL 🩷
charlesleclerc You should've showed them all 😚
>lyttleagnelyn Then they wouldn't have a reason to go watch the video 🥺
>charlesleclerc To watch your cuteness in action is reason enough
joris__trouche Next vid you pick out Charles' outfit 👀
>user8 Now here is a man of the people
>user9 You're saying that like Charles wouldn't absolutely love it 🥹
user10 It needs to be said that polar bear outfit is highly underrated
>user11 TURN IT UP 🎛️
lewishamilton 🩷😊
>lyttleagnelyn Thanks Lew 😚
>user12 I didn't know I need this friendship until this very moment and I will not accept anything less
user13 I don't know why but I love that she brings this style to the paddock bc them fits are starting to get boring 🩷
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__________
"Open your legs wider, Mon ange, so you can see your pretty little pussy in the mirror." Your eyes connected with his in the reflection of your pink themed mirror on your closet. The image was a completely lewd contrast to the back drop, you fully nude, legs splayed open, Charles' jean clad legs encircling yours and his arms, covered in the sleeves of his sweatshirt, leading to hands that were defiling you in their own ways. One was wrapped around your upper body, fondling your breast as the other caressed your upper thigh, drawing ever so close to your core.
"Like this?" He watched you in the mirror as you adjusted your legs, lazily rubbing at your clit as he instructed you to do earlier.
"Yes, perfect. Look at how cute you look." He presses his mouth to your hair, keeping his face there and allowing the thin pink ribbon he tied around your already up ponytail to tickle his face.
"Charles, I don't know how much longer..." Your hand starts to slow down drastically, almost stopping, but a firm grip on your wrist from Charles keeps the movement going.
"C'mon, amour. I know you can do better than this." His presses a couple kisses to your hair and then notches his head in the crook of your neck, eyes switching between your actual hand rubbing circles on your cute swollen cunt, and the reflection smiling back at him from the closet door. His other hand quickly swats 2 slaps to your tit, creating small shocked whimpers from you that he finds great amusement in. "Also, you know what to call me, Mon ange."
"Daddy, I don't know if I can do it again." Your hand got pressed into your clit some more, making slow but strong circles that make you whimper on repeat.
"I know you can give me one more, Mon ange." You concede and keep rubbing, the achy, over sensitivity making you lull your head back. You didn't notice that your eyes had been squeezed shut until they flutter open, relieving your eyelids of the strain and giving you a dreamy view of Charles, his eyes trained on the addictingly obscene reflection in the mirror. Unfortunately, the early comments from your video began ringing in your ears, taunting you, so you decide to test the waters.
"Nooo, what about you? I can give you one?" You effeciently remove your hand from his grasp and attempt to clumsily reach into his belted jean. He watched for a moment, charmed by your novice attempt at trying to get him off yourself, but just as easily as you had removed your hand, your wrist was being gripped again, this time with out the allowance of reach to his torso. You whine, defeated. He was your boyfriend. That's what boyfriends wanted their girlfriends to do, right? "I just want to make you feel good..."
"Making you feel good makes me feel good, Mon amour." He slowly guides your hand back to your clit starting the agonizingly slow, ineffective rub on your clit again. "But, if you really want to make me feel good, amour, you will make a mess for me, just like I know you can."
"But I don't think I can cum again..." Your hand keeps rubbing, but now the ache of your overused clit coupled with your bubbling frustration were already hard at work dampening your arousal. Seeing Charles in the mirror, his tongue swirling around his middle and ring finger is the only thing that seems to keep one last drop of sexual intrigue.
"I know, Mon ange. That's okay, because I am going to help you. You just have to keep your eyes on the mirror, d'accord, mon amour? And do not stop rubbing your cute swollen clit." He takes the two fingers, now lubricated with saliva, and rubs them over your slit before pushing both appendages inside you. The whimper you let out was choked, brain torn between annoyance and the painful pleasure you were feeling. You didn't want him to think that this would make you forget what just happened, but it was enough to make you forget for now. His fingers set an agonizingly slow pace at first, pulling all the way out and rubbing your arousal over your pussy lips and inner thighs, then plunging back in. He knew exactly how to curl his fingers, exactly how much pressure to place on the bumpy membrane of your g-spot, and the exact speed he has to move his fingers to get to the end he wanted. Honestly, he could've done this from the beginning. One and done. But he has felt a shift in your mood, so he wanted to show you how much he loved you in the way he believed he knew best. "Look at yourself, Mon ange. Look at how adorable your face is." He kisses along your cheek bone, eyes continuously fixated on the reflection.
"Daddy..." Your hand jolts from your clit to Charles wrist when his fingers abruptly speed up and you begin to feel pressure build in your pelvis, a gesture which he clicks his tongue at before using the hand that was still abusing your nipples to pluck it from his arm and motions for you to continue rub your clit.
"Squirt for me, Mon ange. Show me how messy my cute little girl can get. Ruin the sheets, I can get you pretty new ones." He kisses along your shoulder, reveling in the pornographic sounds and faces you made. He watched as you stare at yourself in the pink, Sanrio character covered mirror, unable to hide exactly how good you felt. You couldn't say anymore words, only whimpers, whines, and any other sexual sounding high-pitched noise bubbles from your chest as Charles brutally fucked you with his fingers at a blistering pace. Your vision gets spotty as the familiar sensation floods over you, pun intended. Charles' fingers continue as liquid sprays from you, legs straightening out and shaking as the convulsions of your third orgasm of the night take over your body, liquid flowing from you pooling at your butt, flowing around the blockage to get to Charles' jeans.
"See, Mon ange? I knew you could do it. You did so good for me." His fingers, now removed, traced languid shapes along the inside of your thigh, his other hand that never left your chest now sliding up to your neck, guiding your face upward so could proceed with a messy, rushed make out. You were nearly unconscious, still coming down from your high. "Let's get you cleaned up." You felt yourself being picked up bridal style, arms reflexively wrapping around your boyfriend's neck, face nestled into his shoulder. Your brain slowly became less clouded as you were carried to the bathroom, a reminder of your boyfriend's unwillingness to have you touch him, and how everyone may just be right...
_______
It's only been a week since you posted the video and already it's your most viewed, most liked video. The comments have been raving. So many positive things to say about your outfits and how much people can tell Charles loves you from the way he speaks to you and looks at you. But those weren't the ones that were plastered all over your mind. "Absolutely nothing about any of these outfits are sexy...", "How is Charles able to date this girl when she dresses like a child...", "I am failing to see what she has that Charlotte or Alex didn't have that makes Charles want to be with her...". It was literally only a handful of comments, but each one of them cut you like a knife, and had you laying on the living room couch, cuddled up to your boyfriend, questioning the security of your almost year long relationship.
Your head was resting comfortably on Charles' thigh, his hand moving along your right arm, caressing the flesh gently with his finger tips. You were in some of your favorite pajamas, but as the harsh comments continued to coil around your brain, you could feel yourself physically curling in, becoming increasingly self conscious of your style choices to the point where you were questioning what you wore in the comfort of your own home.
"Are you cold, Mon ange?" Charles pulls the plush pink blanket you kept on the back of the couch down and covers your body, rubbing his entire hand up and down your arm to relieve you from your suspected coldness.
"Baby, what did you think about Alex dressed? Or Charlotte? Did you like their styles?" You don't look at him, you knew you would cry upon eye contact. You could feel his body tense up at the mention of his exes, but he goes on to respond anyway.
"Hm? Why do you ask, Mon amour?" You could feel his eyes boring into the side of your head. He wanted you to look at him. He wanted to see the emotion your eyes gave away so he could gauge where the inquiry was coming from.
"Oh, I- uh...you know. Just wondering. We haven't really talked about your exes." You hope the answer was enough to curb his curiosity, feeling relieved when you feel his hand continue to move again and the vibration though his body as a low hum goes through him as he thinks.
"Uh, well. I guess their styles worked for them. Their personalities. They both were, um, quite, ehh, reserved." He removes his hand from your arm to scratch the side of his nose and then quickly replaced it.
"Would you say you preferred how they acted?" Fuck stealth, you wanted answers.
"Now, I wouldn't say that. Again it just kind of fit them. I can't really imagine them acting differently. Like you personality fits you. Your cute and, uh, bright and the clothes you wear are just as cute and bright." Your subconscious could here the pride in his voice when he made his point, but your forebrain just heard that word. Cute.
"But did you find their personalities more attractive? Like...sexier, or whatever?" You knew you over stepped when you feel his body tighten up again.
"Mon amour, what are these questions?" He chuckled to diffuse his tension, but he still added this moment to a mental list he was making of ways you seem to be second guessing yourself.
"Nevermind, it's stupid." You cuddle into his leg again, giving up on trying to get a clear answer on what Charles really thinks about you. Still he goes on to answer an unasked question.
"Mon ange, I love you, okay? I think you are absolutely perfect the way you are." His hand on your arm moved to your cheek, a singular digit turning your head toward him so he could kiss you. He was telling the complete truth. He loved you more than he could've ever fathomed. His eyes wandered over your face, how your brown skin and eyes glowed in the light of the television. You always just seemed to glow.
"Thank you, baby. I love you, too." You gave the obligatory answer that obviously held truth, but you couldnt help but let the negativity continue to echo through your head. As the night went, the program on the TV became static as you began to formulate a plan to make yourself undeniably irresistible to your boyfriend. Step one: Ditch the cute.
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"Mon ange? Are almost ready? We have to get going soon." Charles paces in the foyer of the Belgian hotel suite, typing out a message to his trainer that you two were heading down. He does stop for a moment, glancing toward the bathroom, adding another thing to his mental list of how you've been acting differently. You're mood has been off, much quieter and reserved, and he made another mental note when he realized you haven't talked about video ideas recently. Your outfits have been drained of the pretty pinks and whites and instead have been replaced by dark blues browns and blacks. Piggybacking off of that, it's always taken you some time to get ready makeup wise, but it's also been taking forever for you to get dressed, like you had to force yourself into these new, reserved outfits.
"Yeah, I'm ready..." You were hesitant to leave the bathroom. You worked hard to convince yourself that what you were wearing wasn't much different than what you usually wore. Sure the fully brown jumpsuit was technically darker than the primarily pink outfit staring at you from the floor...and you did prefer a skirt to pants...but this was still an outfit that you would be expected to wear. The addition of the cream colored cropped zip up added the softness to the outfit that allowed you to feel as comfortable as your possibly could. So after taking a deep breath and mentally coach yourself through nonchalantly exiting the bedroom, you approach Charles who breaks away from his thoughts and immediately notices the difference in your wardrobe.
"You look nice." He makes no move to leave the hotel room, wide eyes scaling your appearance.
"You didn't sound very confident about that." You finish applying a clear lip gloss in the mirror on the wall and then look up through your lashes at Charles and his unmoving body. Your heart rate increases as his uncertain tone replays in your head.
"Oh, no amour. You look adorable, really. Your outfits never fail to look beautiful. It's just...it's a bit darker than usual. I'm not used to seeing you in brown. It looks very pretty on you." No smile manifests on his face, instead a wide eyed look that signified that his entire focus was on you, but you still felt the sincerity behind his compliment. But "pretty" and "beautiful" still rang through your head like the most annoying bells ever. The only words that he used to describe how you looked in the skin tight brown bodysuit.
"Thank you, Charlie." You lift yourself up a bit on your tip toes to give Charles a peck on the lips, which he had a delayed reaction to, puckering when your lips had already made contact with his, like his mind was somewhere else. That was further obvious when he stayed stand there, squinting at you, running his "Yn's been acting different" list through his brain. "We should get going..."
"Oh! Yes! Sorry, mon ange. Let's go." He jolted out of his trance, suddenly back in the present where he had to start getting mentally ready for a singular practice session before going into qualifying. And there you were, following close behind, grabbing Charles hand that had reached out for you like a heat-seeking missile.
__________
You decide, for the practice session at least, that you were going to sit up in as private of an area of the Paddock Club you could find. You didn't have the energy to hear anymore "You look different but still cute!" compliments. You knew they all meant well, and they were all only mildly annoying. Kika said it in excitement, asking where you got the jumpsuit from. Daniel came up to give you hug, telling you that you looked "really cute today." Lewis' complimented your outfit, but he also asked how you were doing, dipping his head so he could look you in the eyes as you confirmed that you were fine.
In a normal situation, you would've loved this amount of attention, but when your mind has been flipping through painful past memories where people doubted anything you did and told you that you wouldn't get anywhere dressing the way you did, the last thing you wanted to hear was anyone else saying that you "still looked cute". Yes, you were fully aware that you got to this point in your life, viral video, and thriving YouTube channel and the hottest, most supportive boyfriend on the planet by embracing this aesthetic that allowed you to essentially just be truly and unapologetically you, but what if that cup was running out? What if people were initially pulled in because of the aesthetic, but expected you to change eventually? What if that was what Charles was thinking?
You had already found an empty table in an unfounded corner of the large open room, a large white wall with a TV screen on it, partitioning you from the rest of the room, giving you the moment of soliace you needed. You even briefly closed you eyes to take a deep breath and ground yourself, and it was working until you heard heels clicking toward you. The quiet attempt at retreating is what finally made you open your eyes.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I saw you and was about to come say hi, but then I saw you trying to...meditate or something..." It was Lily.
"You can sit, you know..." You giggle at the fact that she was still standing, but your small smile falls a bit when you see her eyes moving around your appearance.
"Oh, yeah. I like the look, by the way. It's-" You interrupt her words by with a quick "stop" hand gesture that seemed to stop her words and her motions, making her freeze mid-sit.
"If you say 'cute', I am going to rip every piece of hair that I have in this claw clip out." The look you gave Lily made her hesitantly finish sitting, and rethink her compliment.
"You look...nice. Good. Great. Am I getting close?" She places a comforting hand on your shoulder, rubbing gently when you let your head fall onto the back of your hands on the table.
"You're fine. These past few weeks have been...a lot." Lily's hand doesn't move, even when you lift your head enough to turn and look at her.
"What? Your video?" You listlessly lift the rest of your body up from the table and turn to her, not making eye contact and instead messing with your nails, the only part of your outfit that actually fully expressed you.
"Yeah, technically. I never expected it to do that well, but there have been comments..." You look out the window in front you when you hear the approaching cars and let your eyes try too hard to track each car that goes by.
"All I have seen were rave reviews about your outfits and how in love Charles is with you." Her hand is finally removed from your person after her comment, reaching in her clutch that was placed on the table and pulling out her phone.
"Yeah. I guess those are the majority, but there have been other ones...meaner ones..." You trail off into your own thoughts while more cars roared by, continuing to speak when you have the prolonged feeling of Lily's eyes on you, waiting to see where you were going with it. "Lily, how often does Alex say you look sexy in something?"
"I-uh-woah. You caught me off guard there, um..." She stopped to seriously consider your question. "I guess kinda often. Mainly when he can tell I'm excited about an outfit or it's, like, a special occasion. Why?"
"Charles has only ever said I was "cute". Or "pretty". Or "beautiful". Never sexy. Not even if I try to lead him into saying it." You turn around for a moment to check where Charles stood on the practice session leaderboard and how much time was left. "I honestly have no idea if Charles thinks I'm sexy."
"Oh, honey. I'm sure he does." Her fingernails went to caressing up and down your back as she turned all of her focus towards you while Alex goes 3rd fastest.
"A boyfriend that finds his girlfriend sexy would want to, like, fuck her 24/7, right?" You whispered the obscenity as to not attract unwanted attention, but you still asked the question in search of some well needed validation.
"I mean, in theory, I guess. But everyone's relationship is different." She continues to move her hand over your back and you push some of the longer hair from your bangs out of your face.
"Lily, we've been dating for almost a year now, and we've never actually...done it." It felt almost embarrassing to admit it. Everyone talks about how in love you and Charles are but you two have yet to take that step to show your intimate devotion to each other, sans the other things you guys have done you guys have done.
"Maybe he just doesn't feel like it has been the right time. He must have his reasons." You appreciated Lily's optimism.
"Like I'm just too cute to fuck. He doesn't want to defile me." This was the first joke you've made about the situation, and laughing about it felt so good. But you still needed answers, and your question just gave you some direction. "Maybe that's it. What could I wear to make Charles think I'm sexy enough to fuck?"
"I didn't expect to have this conversation when I woke up today. Um...something you can wear?" She took a moment to think and you could see the light bulb in her head switch on. "Lingerie! That's literally 'being sexy 101'. Something hot and lacey. And probably in a darker color, really lay it in thick. He's already obsessed with you, that'll make sure he can't keep his hands off of you."
"Lily, you genius!" You exclaimed, catching her off guard again, this time by throwing your arms around her neck and giving her a couple of light, glossy pecks to the cheek.
"Anything to help." You were already typing away at your phone, nearly vibrating with excitement, imagining Charles reaction. Another round of car roaring traveled by, but the speed of those machines had nothing on that of your scrolling thumbs.
___________
You stood in the overwhelming yet soothing pink of your filming room, admiring yourself in your new lingerie set. Well trying to. It looked really good on you but you couldn't wrap your head around how there aren't more complaints about how itchy the lace is.
"Well, Yn, when the point is to have it taken off of you, the comfort of the fabric doesn't matter, does it?" You chastise yourself, checking out the back one last time, squirming from the uncomfortable g-string underwear. "Okay, let's do this." You take a deep breath and shake out any last minute jitters before calling out to your boyfriend. "Charlie, could you come here?"
"Coming, mon ange." His voice was far off in the distance, but it still made your heart jump up into your mouth and then travel down into your stomach. You look at yourself in the mirror again, trying to ground yourself, but then you heard his footsteps and you gave up on calming yourself down. This was a special moment, nerves are normal and should be expected. "What's up...oh my..."
You were trapped under Charles' stare. Wide eyed, his tongue darting out to usher his bottom lips into his mouth. But then his eyebrows scrunched together and his jaw shifted, so you had to speak to break the nerve racking tension. "You like it?" You wanted to be a bit sexier, but in preparation for this, you only put effort into finding the lingerie. Acting sexy was still foreign to you.
"Uh, yeah. You-you look beautiful, Mon amour. You look beautiful in everything." He walks towards you, eyes dancing over your figure as he reaches for your hands to pull you into him but moving his hands to the sides of your face when you wrap your arms around his torso.
"Just beautiful?" You voice was high trying to coax the right words from him.
"You look absolutely amazing, Mon ange. It's just, you seem uncomfortable." You twist your head like a confuse me puppy. Yeah, you were uncomfortable, but comfort wasn't the point.
"I just wanted to try something different. For you." You unwrap your arms from his waist and rub them up and down his chest.
"Oh, you didn't have to do this for me. I adore you in the cute little underwears you normally wear." That was a last straw for you. That word has been the bane of your existence for the past three weeks. To the point where you haven't even wanted to be around your stuff, which made you even more stressed. You haven't been around your comfort items or felt comfortable enough to film again, so this was you last chance at trying to feel like yourself again and it was blown by a singular word.
"'Cute'. Is that all you can fucking say about me. That I'm cute?" You had pulled away from Charles and placed your hands on your hips.
"Mon amour, I don't understand. Why are you angry?" Truthfully he wishes he was still holding you. He liked to feel your skins under his fingertips. But he instead crosses his arms, watching you pace angrily around the room. His brain couldn't think straight as he watches different parts of your body bounce as you walked.
"Well let's see? The word 'sexy' apparently isn't a part of your vocabulary when it comes to me. Because you refuse to fuck me." You counted out your grievances on your fingers, adjusting the itchy ass bra you had on that pissed you off even more.
"Amour, we definitely have-" Charles attempts to employ a calming tone to try and diffuse your anger, but it was a futile effort.
"Charles, your tongue and fingers do not count." The death glare you gave would've been enough to scare him off in a normal situation, but your temper tantrum was making him just as mad as you already were. "I even had the bright idea that maybe if I acted and dressed like Alex, or Charlotte, or even fucking Giada, that you would maybe want to fuck me. Boy was I wrong!"
"Okay, stop!" And you did. Stopped in your tracks. You turn to face Charles, arms crossed so your boobs were further smashed together in your lacey bra. "I don't know why you keep talking about my exes, but that is going to stop. There is absolutely nothing about them that made me more attracted to them or made me want to...fuck them more than you." It was his turn now to pace in frustration. His hands run through his hair as he tries to block the visual of you in your skimpy lingerie from running through his mind. "You want the truth, Mon amour? I think about fucking you all the time. I think about the noises you'd make, and how cute-yes, cute- you'd look while I fuck you senseless. When you look really cute, like when you have that little pink ribbon in your hair, I think about how you'd look with my cock in your mouth, your pretty eyes looking up at me. Your perfect makeup ruined because of me."
"Wait, so all this 'cute' stuff is just your way of saying you think I'm sexy?" You still had your arms crossed but you were looking up at him innocently, now feeling a bit guilty about being so frustrated with him for the past few weeks.
"Oui, Mon ange. Exactly." He takes a couple of slow steps to walk across the room to you, placing his large hands on the sides of your hair, bring your forehead to him for a kiss. "I think you are extremely sexy. Cute just fits you better. And it doesn't mean that I want to fuck you any less. Now, let's get you out of that and into something you can be more comfortable in..." There's a chuckle in his words as he tries to guide you to your wardrobe, but you don't budge. He should've stopped while he was ahead.
"Wait, no. First, I'm not taking this off. Second, if how I dress hasn't stopped you, than why haven't we fucked?" You take a step back, stopping and standing with your hip flared out and your head defiantly cocked to the side.
"You know what? If that's what you want, fine. Fine! Putain de morveux." He whispered the French to himself as he removed his shirt in a swift smooth motion. Him succumbing to your pleas and attitude was a shock, literally having you frozen in your spot, wide eyed with a small grin growing on your face. "Mon petit ange impatient, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into." He approaches your frozen frame, almost angrily examining the dark lace fabric that barely covered your body. "This has to come off."
"Oh-Hey wait-!" The rip to the bra made you want to cry, and honestly you had no idea why. You wanted it off. It was fucking itchy.
"Don't cry. I'll get you something just like it, only...cuter." He was obviously taunting you now, a dark glint in his eyes as gave you a devioua grin, daring you to retaliate. But you stay silent, only looking up at him through your eyelashes, eyebrows furrowed. "What? No argument?" One of his hands begin to travel up your stomach to your breast, his rings scrapping over your nipple when his thumb was done running over the nub. Your curiosity reigned supreme as you watched his hand grope you body, and even still you had little warning when his hand rushed up to your neck, lodging right underneath you jaw, applying a small amount of pressure. The location of his hand forced you to look at him, eyes already dazed. "I'm gonna fucking ruin you, Mon ange. That's what you want, huh?" You nod, head still trying to wrap around the mood shift in the room. "Answer me." The pressure on your trachea increases slightly.
"Yes, Daddy." You whine out, the high pitch sounding raspy from the squeeze on your windpipe.
"Non, until you learn how to act, it is Sir. Vous comprenez?" You go to nod, but your neck received a warning squeeze.
"Yes sir!" You quickly corrected yourself, taking deep gulps of air when you're released.
"Bon." He goes back to eyeing you, face blank sans the shifting of his jaw while he thought. "On your knees." Your brows furrow in reaction to the command, initially confused but following directions anyway, slowly falling down to your knees. Charles bends over, capturing you chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilting your face up to look at at him. A grin flashes onto his face and you being to reciprocate the gesture when a his hand applies a stinging slap to your left cheek. "If I tell you to do something, do it immediately. Okay?" The grin stays on his face, unwavering. The fact the he was holding such a calm face after such an offense made your heart race, and unexpectedly sparked a bit of arousal in you, causing you to feel wetness begging to pool between your thighs.
"Yes sir." You sit back into your heels as you answer, eyes still watching his eyes darken, a pout on your face.
"You're a quick learner." His finger gives the bottom of your chin a couple of taps and then one tap on the side as his focus turns to the thin pink ribbon lazily sprawled out on your desk. You head follows his movements as he saunters over to the desk, plucks the ribbon from it, and saunters back over to you, standing behind you. A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers gather up your hair and tie the ribbon as tight as possible around the ponytail he created. "This will be helpful for me and you, Mon ange." His words vibrate through your whole body, his warm breath tickling your ear. When he's done he stands back up and walks back around to stand in front of you, the bends down to run his hands down your triceps to pull your arms out in front of you after previously resting on your lap. He continues on to hook your fingers on the waistband of his sweatpants and his underwear. "Take them off for me, mon amour." Learning from the previous instruction experience, you didn't hesitate with pulling at his pants, brain curious about what will follow. It wouldn't have been the first time you've seen Charles' dick, it just would've been the first time your focus was solely on it, so your excessive eagerness caused a lack of awareness and you were shocked to say the least when it hits you in the face. You flinch away from the appendage initially, but take him in your hand, semi-hard and pink tip glistening with the slightest bit of pre-cum. "You're little face was so adorable just then, mon ange. A little bit larger than you expected?"
He was. You had only seen him in passing. While he was changing or getting out of the shower, and when you did see him he was mostly soft, so seeing him up close, and seeing that as he grew harder from being under your observant gaze he was almost as long as your forearm, it was intimidating. "Yeah. Quite a bit bigger."
"Open your mouth. Stick your tonuge." Your mouth only begins to form the word why when your receive another harsh slap to your face. "Let's try this again. Open your mouth...and stick out your tongue." You do so immediately, looking up at him with a tear rolling down your face from the sting on your cheek that he wipes away with his thumb. "If you want me to fuck you like the little slut you are being, you should know that sluts do what they are told." His thumb continues to gently caress your tingling cheek, but towards the end of his statement he begins to stroke himself slowly, dangerously close to your tongue. "Open a little wider, mon amour." You do as best as you can, your jaw already feeling sore and it hasn't even been a minute.
You try your best to not flinch when Charles guides himself into your mouth, but you didn't have to worry about it because once he felt he was in enough, he brought his right hand down to grab onto you ribboned ponytail to force his cock the rest of the way down your throat. Once your nose hit his pelvis he pulled back on your hair to remove your mouth from him, you making the most obscene gaging noise as he does so. A string of slobber momentarily connects you with the head of his cock before it drops of onto your chin and Charles swears it's the cutest thing he ever saw. "Let's see what your pretty throat can do, mon ange." His dick approaches your mouth again and on instinct you open your mouth, looking up at him as the pushes in, the thick vein that ran down his shaft gliding along your tongue.
The moment his dick hit the back of your throat, more tears began to fall from your eyes, but when you briefly look down, you saw that he still had a bit more of him to stuff down your throat before he reaches the depth he did before. Once he does finish stuffing your mouth, nose at his pelvis again, you rapidly tap at his thighs, making him pull out again. "Yes?" The way he asked way condescending, using the grip he had on your ponytail to make you look up at him. You were quite the sight. Mascara starting to run down your face and your lips and chin glistening from slobber.
"I couldn't breathe." Your whine was raspy and you could stop blinking your eyes as they burned from the mixture of tears and mascara.
"Oh, ma Cherie, focus on breathing through your your nose, okay?" You nod your head and then dutifully reopen your mouth allowing Charles to slide into your mouth again. You do as instructed, trying to focus on breathing through your nose, but soon that became more difficult as he employed his hips in getting his dick down your throat. The sound of your gagging and the sloppy sound of saliva spilling from your mouth with each thrust were a supplemental driving force in bringing him closer to cumming. For you, his grunts and groans, his praises ("You're mouth feels so nice, amour" "You look so cute like this, mon petit ange désordonné."), and the small glimpse you get of your head being forced up and down his cock in your pink framed mirror all did their part in making your pussy so wet that the juices started soaking through the dark fabric of the panties you still had on. You didn't realize that you were zoning out, having to use little brain power as your throat was being used, until he abruptly pulled out, yanking your head to make you look at him again, face more fucked out than before and he hasn't even fucked you properly yet.
"You have no idea how much I wanted to cum down your throat, but I still have to give mon petit ange what she was whining for." He releases your hair and finally steps out of his pants in order to walk over to your pile of stuffed animals. "Ass in the air for me, Mon amour. And here, for your head." He tossed the same Hello Kitty plushie that used to hide his boner during the YouTube video to you and you absentmindedly do as told, enjoying the idea of giving your upper body a break. The way you positioned yourself had you facing the mirror on the closet, so Charles was able to see your tired messy face laying on the plush Sanrio character as he got behind you and pulled the black thong you still had on to the side revealing and sliding his fingers through your already slick folds. You flinch and whimper when the callous pads of his index and middle fingers graze and briefly rub your clit. "Tell me what you want, amour. Use your words."
"Want you to fuck me, sir." You were near falling asleep from the surprising amount of energy that was exerted having your throat used by Charles, but you were still determined to get what you wanted from this entire endeavor.
"Just wanted to check." He removes his fingers from your clit and adds what juices he did gather from you to his cock that was still slick from your mouth. He the line himself up with your entrance that was fully exposed for him and with little to no warning begins to push inside you. He still knew better than to rush it, slowly pushing himself past your folds, but not stopping until he filled you to the hilt. "You're so fucking tight, mon ange. Baise-moi."
"Wait, Charles. You're-I-" He wasn't all the way in when you began talking but once he's finished pushing inside you, you let out the most guttural groan he has ever heard from you. But you still comitted the grave offense of not calling him the right name, so the hard smack you received on your ass brought back the high pitched whine he's heard time and time again. "Sir! Sorry, sir!"
"It's okay, mon amour. I know it was an accident." He has yet to attempt to move, the grip your pussy had on him made him briefly question if it was even possible, but before he tried he bent down as much as he could to get as close to your ear as possible. "I gonna fuck you like the little slut you want to be. Give mon petit ange exactly what she wants." Your ponytail had flared out over you face, so Charles reached to move your hair out of your face before straightening his back again and griping your ass firmly to finally back his hips out and thrust inside you again. You let out similar groans after each slow thrust he gives, whimpering after a while and wiggling your hips a bit to see if you were able to make how full Charles had you feeling more comfortable.
"You feel so deep. I think I feel you in my tummy..." Everything you said came out whiney as you cuddled your head into the plush beneath it. You were completely oblivious to the curiosity you just sparked in your boyfriend, that is until you feel his arm reach across just above your breasts to lift you up so your back was pressed against his chest, now getting the clearest view of yourself being fucked in the pink decorated mirror.
"Let me see." He hitched his hips into you and his eyes couldn't believe what he saw. "Mon amour, look," He moved his right arm underneath your breasts so he could use his left hand to make you look at yourself in the mirror. He pulled out and thrusted into you again and so you could watch as his dick pressed into your stomach, making the bottom of your tummy poke out slightly. "You can see me in your tummy. That is adorable, mon amour!" It was like this sight flipped on another switch in his brain, a switch adjacent to the one that has made him act so cruel. His thrusts became quicker as he reached for your hand to place on top of the disappearing and reappearing bulge. "Keep you hand there amour, I want you to feel how well I'm fucking you."
"Yes, sir." You moan out as best you could, working to make sure your hand doesn't get knocked from it spot. Charles adjusts his arms so that he had a firm grip on you and a hand that could easily reach your clit. Immediately upon beginning to rub, you start to whine and whimper like when you were close to coming when he fingered you or ate you out. In fact, he knew these specific moans meant he would have to brace for a mess.
"Are you gonna cum for me, amour? Make a mess all over your pretty pink room?" His warm breath and thick accent turned your brain to mush, so all you could do to answer was nod, but you felt his grip around you tighten after you do, your only indication that you did something wrong. "Oh, mon ange. If you want to be a good little slut for me, you have wait for me to tell you when to cum. Now you have to wait for me."
You wanted to cry. All the other times he was cruel to you in this fashion it was at least after you got to orgasm a couple times. But denial was an entirely different beast that had tears running down your face as wordless whines erupt from your chest.
"Amour, you feel so good around me. I could fuck you forever. I can't believe I was missing this." You both were in your own worlds, so as he spoke and rambled on about how good it felt to fuck you and how cute and dazed you looked, you brain turned it into white noise, trying hard to focus on the instruction that Charles gave you. You wanted so desperately to be good for him.
"I'm gonna cum, amour. Cum so deep inside you. Make that tummy bulge stay for a while. My first time fucking you and I get to fuck a baby in you." He became progressively less coherent, and surprisingly more french, the closer he got to cumming, and the combination of the warm feeling of cum spurting inside of you and the quick movement of Charles' fingers on your clit that came with his reaction brought you over your prophesized edge, the a mixture of squirt and cum coating your thighs. Charles keeps his firm grip on you as you ride out your shaking orgasm, still coming down from his own high, sprinkling kisses along the side of your neck and whispering praises in both English and French. "You are so perfect for me amour. Mon parfait petit ange."
"I love you, Daddy." You reach back and tangle you fingers in his hair to bring him in for a sloppy kiss, face still messy from the start of the evening.
"I love you too, mon ange. I'll, uh, make more of an effort to tell you you're sexy more often." He maneuvers himself to be able to lift you up into a bridal hold, giving you a small peck on the forehead.
"You don't have to. Cute is just fine. I promise not to be so much of a brat." You wrap your arms around his neck and lean in for a near make out session, giving a few deep kisses that allowed you to tangle your tongue with his.
"I like when you're a little bratty. It is actually very adorable, because you don't do it very well." He chuckles while bracing for a couple of slaps on the chest from you.
"Oh, also, the, uh, baby thing...were you serious?" He began to finally make his way to the bathroom as you inquired about the words he said during his orgasm rambling.
"I guess we'll see, won't we?" This time he stifles his chuckle but doesn't conceal the large grin that grows on his face at your shocked face, kissing the crease between your brows. "Come, mon ange. Let's get you cleaned up."
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absurdthirst · 6 months
Text
Dieter's Daughter {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 13.7k
Warnings: Dad!Dieter, mentions of drug use, unplanned pregnancies, freaking out, mentions of foster care, anxiety, lactation kink, babies, domestic bliss, falling in love, sudden marriage proposals, Dieter being a sap, adult breast feeding, oral sex (female receiving), face riding, vaginal sex, pregnancy
Comments: When a baby is dropped off on Dieter's doorstep, he is completely out of his element and doesn't know what to do. Attending a single mother support group meeting, he finds you. Begging you to become a nanny to his daughter.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
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|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
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It takes several minutes for the sounds of the doorbell peeling insistently to break through Dieter’s nearly catatonic state. Too much booze and too many pills are the result of another day of discontent and wishing that there was something other than numbness of life for him. Leaving him grumbling when one eye pops open and he groans when the cotton mouth and headache hits him. “Go away.” He huffs, knowing that there is no way that whoever is at the damn door would hear him all the way in his bedroom. Hell, the only reason he hears the doorbell is because it’s wired to the sound system in the house. Again the bell rings and like the dead rising from the grave, Dieter drags himself out of the safety and comfort of his bed. “Fuck! I’m coming! I’m coming!” The bathrobe he had tossed down last night is put over his boxers and he shuffles towards the stairs as fast as his lethargic body can go.
When Dieter opens the door, he’s shocked to see a woman standing there holding a baby. “Can I help you?” He asks, rubbing his eyes, and she snorts.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” She asks and Dieter squints, “am I supposed to?” 
She laughs humorlessly, “I shouldn’t be surprised, you could barely remember my name that night. I was just amazed that a big actor wanted to fuck me. Remember me? That cocktail waitress from the club you took home about ten months ago?” She says and Dieter scratches his neck. 
“Listen lady, I sleep with a lot of people. It’s hard to remember them all.” He admits with zero qualms. 
“Wow. You’re a fucking asshole. Anyway, I guess the condom broke because congrats, you’re a daddy. It’s a girl. Her name is Rosie. Her birth certificate is in the bag.” She holds the baby out towards him and his eyes widen, looking down at the baby bag in the ground.
”What? I- what the fuck?” He looks bewildered before he starts to laugh. “Good one. Real funny. What do you want? Money?” He scoffs and she shakes her head, tears in her eyes. 
“No. No. I need you to take her. I can’t afford her and I- I didn’t want her. When I found out - I was fucking eight months pregnant so it was too late to get rid of her and I can’t work so I can’t pay for my place. I can’t keep her. You gotta take her. She will be better off with you.” She says and pushes the baby into Dieter’s arms. 
He scrambles to hold the baby, not wanting to drop her and the woman immediately sprints off towards her car. “Hey! Wait! You can’t just- I don’t know how to look after a baby! I need you to - hey. Where the fuck- get back here!” He yells as she squeals off of his driveway and he curses himself for not fixing the gate yet. “Shit.” He hisses. He didn’t even get her name. Looking down at the baby, he sighs and knows he has to find her mom. He can’t be a daddy. He can barely look after himself. 
No, first thing is a damn DNA test and then he’s gonna find that bitch and give her back her baby. He’s gotta call the police after he cleans up his counters from the coke powder. “Fuckkkkk.” He groans, knowing his quiet day just got a whole lot busier.
****
“If we take her, Mr. Bravo, she’s just going to go into a state home. An orphanage.” Dieter frowns and wraps his arms around his chest, nervous for having the fucking cops in his house. Paranoid they were going to find the baggie of Coke he just remembered was in the little box next to his car keys. “You are listed on the birth certificate.” 
Snatching the paper from the officer he squints at it. “How the fuck is that legal?” He demands. “That means anyone could put me down as the father of their kid.” 
The officer shuffles, clearly uncomfortable and slightly in awe of being in the actor’s presence. “That’s for the courts to decide. Look,” he lowers his voice and looks around. “I don’t think you understand how bad the system is for babies.” He tells Dieter seriously. “Just- keep the baby with you, at least until the DNA tests come back. That way you don’t have to fight to get her back when she is yours. You already said you might have slept with this woman. Stranger things have happened.” 
Dieter huffs, upset by the idea of the tiny little human being in an orphanage. Even if she doesn’t look anything like him. He had found diapers and a can of formula in the bag that the mother had left with him but that’s it. He has nothing to take care of a child. “What am I supposed to do? I don’t know shit about kids.” He demands, making the officer chuckle. 
“Hire a nanny.” The officer suggests, smirking. “Isn’t that what you Hollywood types do?”
Dieter knows he can’t just ship the kid off. She’s so tiny and vulnerable. He can’t do it, even he’s not that big of an asshole. He will call his assistant to get a nanny in today. “Listen, do you, uh, know how much formula to use?” He asks the cop who nods and walks over to the counter to show Dieter. 
“One scoop for every two ounces of water. Get baby water but bottled will have to work for today. So four ounces, two scoops. And shake. After she is finished, shift her to your shoulder and gently pat her back to get her to burp.” He says and Dieter nods. 
“How much does she need?” Dieter asks and the cop chuckles, “she’s gonna be hungry a lot. I remember mine at that age. Endless bottles. Be sure to wash them thoroughly.” He says and pats Dieter on the shoulder and makes his way towards the front door of the Sherman Oaks mansion.
“Fuck.” Dieter groans, rubbing his cheek when the police leave and the baby starts to cry. He knows she must be hungry so he fumbles to open the container, grabbing the bottle to fill it with bottled water and putting two scoops in. “I’m coming.” He says, struggling to do the bottle up, and he curses again as he walks over to carefully scoop the baby up. “How do I-?” He struggles to get her to suck on the bottle and sighs in relief when she stops wailing and gulps down the milk.
Dieter holds the baby awkwardly, trying to remember how from that role a few years ago. The baby had been a prop doll, but they had shown him how to hold it. “Your name’s Rosie, huh?” He asks, looking down at the infant. According to the birth certificate, she’s only two months old. “I’m Dieter, but you don’t talk so why am I telling you that?” He huffs, but the baby gurgles around the nipple of the bottle and it makes him grin. “Did you like that?” He asks, lifting a brow. Apparently he’s a natural with kids. 
The baby grunts and the grin immediately slides into a frown. “What’s that?” He asks, feeling something moving. “What are you doing?” Instead of sucking down the milk, the baby is grunting and straining and Dieter stares in horror as the smell starts to reach his nose. “Oh shit! You shit!” He groans in disgust.
The baby starts to cry, unhappy with a full diaper, and Dieter is reaching for his phone. 
“Hello?” His assistant answers and Dieter is panicking. 
“I need you here right now. I need help.” 
Johan, his assistant, frowns, “is that- is that a baby?” He asks and Dieter groans, “get here now. And call a nanny service!” He demands and hangs up. “What do I do?” He asks the baby, shifting to lay her down on a towel so she doesn’t get shit on his expensive rug. “I- shit. You - fuck. That’s disgusting.” He groans and pulls his phone out. “YouTube! I’ll try YouTube.” He looks up ‘how to change a diaper’ and grabs the baby bag.
Dieter watches the video, studying it intently as he keeps a hand on the baby’s stomach. “Looks easy.” He frowns at the squirming baby. “But the doll wasn’t moving.” He sets the phone down beside the bag so he can see it and bites his lip as he tries to figure out the snaps on the onesie she’s in. “Holy shit.” He huffs, amazed at how easy it unsnaps. “I need this in a fucking adult version.” Wrinkling his nose when the smell gets even worse, he groans. “Wheeeeew, God you stink.” He nearly gags and pulls his shirt up over his nose. “What did you eat?”
Trying to plug his nose, he follows the YouTube video, wiping the poop off of her skin after rolling up the dirty diaper and putting it in the diaper bag. Anyone watching would think Dieter is dealing with a bomb. He gags when he pushes the wipes into the bag after cleaning her up and he grabs the rash cream, placing some on her bottom where the video details he should. He curses the new diaper, trying to figure out what way is the front until he sees it says “back” on it and he pulls it tight on her tiny body before he clips her onesies back into place. “Shit. That - that wasn’t too bad.” He murmurs, breathing in the fresh air and she hiccups, looking up at him with wide eyes.
“You’re kind of cute.” Dieter murmurs. “In a weird, ‘you don’t look like me’ kind of way.” He frowns when she grins at him, kicking her feet. “You’re weird.” He huffs, but she just waves her arms at him and squeals. Is she his? After all this time, did he finally fuck up and procreate? His mind spins and he wishes he remembers what the woman looks like better than he does but it had been early (for him) and he had just woken up. “We will have to find you someone who knows what they are doing kiddo.”
**** 
“What did you do?” Johan accuses Dieter who shakes his head, holding the baby in his arms and he looks at her, unable to deny that she looks a little like Dieter. 
“I don’t know man. Some woman, I- Jesus. She said I fucked her and don’t even remember her. I’m waiting for the nurse to come for the DNA test.” Dieter confesses, knowing he has to be sure before he does anything.
“Oh my God, Dieter.” She rolls her eyes and immediately steps closer to the baby, unable to resist seeing her up close. “This is why you said you needed a nanny?” 
Dieter nods and rocks his body as the baby’s eyes start to drift closed. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” He huff, looking around the house that is definitely not baby proof. “I don’t have anything. I need-” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what the fuck I need. More diapers? That formula?” He nods towards the diaper bag. “She didn’t leave me shit for this baby.” He growls, pissed off at the poor planning of that woman. Who just abandons their baby with someone they didn’t know? 
“Let me make a list and we can get what we need for her.” Johan says, knowing Dieter will not know anything that he will need. 
“I need help. And stuff. Like now.” Dieter says, feeling the need to use but he can’t since he’s responsible for a fucking baby now.
Johan nods and bites his lip. “I’ve got a call into a nanny service. They are going to send someone over today.” He knows Dieter will be relieved. “Maybe she can help us with what we need.”
“Let’s get her. I need help. I- shit. I don’t even have a crib or anything. I need you to go out. Take my card and get all the baby shit from the best store there is in town.” He orders, wanting the baby to have the best even if she isn’t his. She’s cute and she deserves a good start in this world. “I need - shit - I have no idea what I’m doing. Please help me.” Dieter begs, the baby falling asleep against his chest and he looks down at her, her lips pouting as she sucks on the pacifier he found in the bag.
Johan grimaces and nods, aware that he has even less experience with babies than Dieter does. “I’ll be back.” The other man promises, quickly making his way towards the door and out of the house. He had no clue what the hell to do for his boss, he’s gotten himself in a mess this time. As much as he wants to claim he doesn’t know that baby is his, it is. Dieter Bravo is a father.
****
“It’s nice to meet you. I’ve always been such a fan of your work.” The woman gushes. Dieter can barely remember her name. Violet, Vivian, or something like that. She seems nice enough and her qualifications from the service are good. He doesn’t really know what he’s looking for in a nanny except he desperately needs help. He’s waiting on the DNA results to come in but the little baby is cute and she listens to him rambling without complaints.
Viola looks around the house and wonders how the hell Dieter Bravo became an overnight father. “You must attend parenting classes.” She insists after Dieter finally runs out of steam and shuts up. “There is one I can sign you up for. It’s for new parents and you qualify.” She chuckles, shaking her head. “They have a meeting in two days, I can see about getting you halfway set up.
“What? No. I don’t need a parenting group.” Dieter scoffs and Viola raises her eyebrows. 
“Respectful sir, I think you do.” She offers him a wry smile when the baby starts to cry in his arms. 
“I’m hopeless, aren’t I?” He sighs, trying to rock Rosie and he is struggling to calm her. 
“Here. Can I-?” Viola asks and Dieter practically shoves the baby into her arms. 
“You’re hired.” He declares when Rosie calms down and the crying stops. He can’t do this alone.
“Mr. Bravo,” Viola frowns and shakes her head. “I’m sorry if you misunderstood. I am here temporarily.” She explains. “I have already signed a contract with another family. I came today because it was an emergency.” She wonders if he had heard anything she had said when she arrived, he had looked frazzled but she thought she had been clear. 
“What? No! You seem like such a nice lady and Rosie likes you. Please. I’ll pay more. I’ll do anything to get you to stay.” He pleads, “name your price. I’ll fucking pay it. Please!” He pouts, eyes wide and pleading. 
Viola shakes her head, “I’m so sorry. I can’t get out of the contract. I’ll help you as much as I can. Johan said you need help learning the basics so I’ll show you the basics and take care of Rosie while I can but you’re going to have to learn what to do.” She says, knowing it’s going to be tough.
“I can’t do this.” Dieter wails, knowing life as he knows it is over. Without someone here, he going to fuck it up. “Please, please, you have to stay.” He begs, making Viola shake her head. 
“I am here for one week, Mr. Bravo. Then it will be up to you to find someone to help you care for Rosie. Now, let me show you how to bathe your daughter.”
****
“She’s yours.” Dieter exhales shakily as Johan announces the DNA results. 
“Shit. I- I have a daughter.” He shakes his head and looks over at Rosie who is asleep in her bassinet. “What am I gonna do?” Dieter asks as reality sets in. He has a child that he’s responsible for and Viola is only here for two more days. “She’s - she’s so tiny and I’m gonna fuck it up. She’s gonna get fucked up because of me.” He starts to panic now that reality has hit.
“You are going to go to the parenting class tonight and we are going to continue to look for a nanny.” Johan tells Dieter practically. He’s been surprised that Dieter hasn’t done as many drugs as he normally does, even smoking weed outside because of the baby. “So far all the services I’ve called don’t have anyone available until next year.” He shakes his head. “Apparently it was baby season this year.”
Dieter groans, covering his face with his hands and dragging them down his cheeks. “I have pre-production for the movie coming up in a few weeks. I can’t take her with me to a table read.” He whines and Rosie shifts in her sleep, making Dieter’s heart melt when the movement catches his attention and he looks over. “Fine. I’ll go to the parenting class. Maybe…maybe someone can help me find a nanny there.” He says, determined to find help. 
****
Dieter walks into the church hall, surprised he hasn’t burst into flames. He hasn’t been to church since he was a kid. His mama used to drag him on a Sunday and when he became famous at ten years old, he managed to bail on church because he was working. He sits down in a seat, noticing how all the other attendees are women. Rosie is asleep in her carrier for now and he has the diaper bag at his feet. “Welcome ladies and - oh. Hi, we have a new member.” An older woman smiles at Dieter, “welcome to the single mom support group.”
“Oh, uh, I thought it was-“ Dieter falters for a moment, panicking about being kicked out of the group. “I thought this was a single parent support group.” He explains, shuffling. “I just- uh, the mother of the child- my child- I just got the DNA test back, dropped her off on my door with no warning.” He rambles, trying to explain why he needs to stay. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” He confesses, nearly sounding defeated.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. You can stay.” A few of the moms recognize Dieter and he looks exhausted. Rosie had kept him up half of the night since Viola has been weaning him off of her help, and he glances around. 
“I’m sorry to - shit. I can go.” He says and you are sitting next to him. 
“No, stay. It’s okay. We are all here to help each other.” Your own son, three months old, is whining and you sigh, pulling your tank top down and unclipping your bra to breastfeed him.
Dieter’s eyes widen at the sight of your breast and he can’t deny his cock twitches a little at the idea of drinking down some milk. Shit, when did that kink happen? “I appreciate it. I have no clue what I’m doing.” He admits again and all the women laugh, “none of us do. It’s instinct and a lot of books.” One giggles, “and Google.”
“I didn’t even know.” Dieter moans, shaking his head. “It was- it was a one night stand.” He feels bad about that, not even able to tell Rosie about his relationship with her mom when she gets older. “I’m trying to hire a nanny but all of them are booked up.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to fuck her up. She’s so tiny. Two months old.”
“What’s her name?” You ask him, looking at the little girl asleep in her carrier. 
“Rosie.” He says with a soft smile, it’s hard to not love the little girl now that he knows she’s his. He wants the best for her, even if she’s stuck with a manic mess like him. “This is Oliver.” You gesture to the baby now asleep on your breast.
Dieter smiles and tries not to notice the grunting sounds the kid is making. Feeling guilty because he knows that he would be making the exact same sounds the kid is if he was sucking down milk from your tit. “That’s nice.” He offers. 
“So what is your name?” The woman in charge smiles fondly at him and he’s surprised no one recognizes him. 
“Uh, Dieter.” He offers, curling his shoulders slightly. “Dieter Bravo.”
“Welcome Dieter.” Several of the women say to him with a smile. 
“So do you have any questions?” Julia, the group leader asks. 
“Where the fuck do I begin?” He replies dramatically, making all the women chuckle. 
“Well, we are here to help each other so might as well start.”
“So my first question. So is their shit always gonna be that black color?” Dieter shakes his head, making a face as he remembers the last diaper he had changed. 
All the women laugh. “No that won’t last for much longer since she’s three months old.” 
Dieter rolls his eyes gratefully. “Oh thank God.” He chuckles. Looking over at you again. “You said your son is two months old? Is he sleeping all night? Is that something that she has to get used to?”
You shake your head, “he isn’t sleeping through the night yet. I breastfeed so he wakes me up every couple of hours. It takes a while for them to sleep through the night. Like six months or so. Have you read any baby books?” You ask and he shakes his head. “Oh you must read - you know what. I’ll send you a list. What’s your number?” You ask and the women all giggle, making you fluster. “I mean, to help. We have babies close in age. It’s good to have help.”
“Do you need a job?” Dieter blurts out, wondering why he hadn’t thought of it before. “I mean- if your husband doesn’t mind.” He corrects himself, forgetting it was a single mother’s group. “I'm just- I’ve got to start pre-production on the next movie and it’s going to be crazy and you seem like you’re perfect. You handle your baby so easily.” His eyes are wide and pleading, begging you to say yes.
Your eyes widen, "I- um, oh wow. A job?" 
The other women all nod, telling Dieter about your history as a teacher and how you know CPR. You fluster, knowing you need a job. Your maternity leave ended two weeks ago and instead of letting you come back to work, your job had fired you. Between losing your job and your landlord chasing you up on rent, you know this is too good to turn down. "I'm not married and um, what job do you have in mind?"
“Nanny.” He jumps immediately on your question. Knowing that it’s not a ‘no’. “I’ll pay you really well and you can- can you live there? I mean, I can have odd hours and you can stay at my place. You and Oliver.” He makes sure to include your son. “I have a big house. In Sherman Oaks.” As if that would sweeten the deal. “Help me with Rosie and teach me how to be a dad. How to look after her. I don’t expect you to do it all.” He clarifies, having already gotten used to the idea of being a ‘girl dad’. He’s watched a few Tik Toks about it and it looks cool.
You know it sounds too good to be true. A job and a place to live with your son. “I think we need to sit down and talk this through properly. You don’t even know me. Don’t you wanna do a background check?” You ask, knowing you’d be doing that if you were hiring someone to live in your house. “We have a lot to discuss.” You bite your lip and look around the room to see the other moms nodding to encourage you.
“Yeah. Yeah.” Dieter nods seriously. “My agent will have that done. Plus the NDA you would have to sign.” He’s grateful you are even thinking about it. “But don’t worry. Most of the tabloid stuff is bullshit. I’m not that bad.” He promises with a quick, charming grin. “We can hammer out the details after this, right?”
“Uh, sure.” You nod and Dieter winks at you before turning back to the women, their own babies in their arms and you know this is too good an opportunity to turn down. “You wanna go get a coffee?” You ask Dieter after Oliver is in his stroller and you look at Rosie who is still asleep, unaware of her father trying to hire her a new nanny. 
“As long as it’s quiet.” He says and you frown, “uh, sure. You said you are going into pre-production so does that mean you are an actor?” You ask, unaware of if he’s famous.
Dieter stares at you for a moment, wondering if you are just trying to play coy but you are just looking at him curiously. “Yeah, uh, I am.” He admits, finding it refreshing that someone on this planet doesn’t know who he is or have any expectations of him. “I normally do two or three movies a year, depending on how long they take to film or whatever.” He struggles with the carrier and the door, holding it open for you on the other side. “Gotta get one of those.” He tells himself, eyeing your stroller.
“We can make a list of what you’ll need. I’m guessing you have the basics but there’s so much stuff.” You sigh, knowing it’s not always been in your reach but someone like him could buy it all. 
“A list sounds good. Coffee?” He suggests, gesturing to the small coffee shop down the street and you nod. 
“Sounds good. I desperately need one. He kept me up all night. He was hungry last night and wouldn’t settle unless he was against my breast.”
Dieter keeps his dirty thoughts to himself, but he doesn’t blame the kid. He would love to sleep with a nipple in his mouth too. “We will make sure to get you an extra shot of espresso.” He promises, carrying the car seat and diaper bag as he walks alongside you. “I’m being serious. About the job, I mean.” He tells you. “I have tried every nanny service in the greater L.A. area with no luck, although I’m on their waitlist.” He sighs and shuffles the carrier when his arm gets tired in one position. “I have an in-law suite you and Oliver can use, if you want a little more privacy than just sleeping upstairs.” He knows he sounds desperate, because he is desperate. Johan knows less than he does about babies and has zero interest in watching the kid while he is busy.
“Let’s sit down with the babies and then we can order.” You suggest and he nods, guiding you over to a table in the back. Rosie is waking up and he panics when she starts to cry. “Oh hello gorgeous.” You murmur, leaning down to look at his daughter and Dieter is fumbling to get the bottle from the bag to make her formula. You sigh, sensing he needs help and you unbuckle the baby, Oliver asleep as you cradle Rosie, her cries settling a little and you stand up, rocking her and you reach for the formula Dieter has, a whole damn container, and work fast on a bottle. “My sister has kids. I used to babysit them.” You explain and work fast with one hand to prepare a bottle and bring it to her lips. “Here you go sweet pea.” You coo as she starts to gulp down the milk.
“You’re really good at this.” Dieter says in awe, watching you handle things so smoothly. “I’m just-I don’t know.” He sighs, feeling bad that he’s not good at this. 
“Babies sense the emotions around them.” You tell him quietly. “You panic, she’s going to become more frantic. Just talk to her while you are getting her bottle ready. Or have one already mixed up, ready to go.” You think about all the formulas that are already bottled and just need a nipple slapped on them. “We can find a routine that works for you.”
Dieter nods, “yes. Yes. God, please take the job. I need you.” He pleads and you shift Rosie into his arms, transferring the bottle to him. 
“I’ll take the job. On one condition.” You say, sitting back down and you rock Oliver’s stroller. 
“Anything.” Dieter vows. 
“You learn too. I don’t want you to just shove her into my arms at the first sign of difficulty. She’s your daughter. You need to know how to care for her, to bond with her. You can’t just hand her off and expect me to do it all. She needs to know her daddy.”
Dieter nods, knowing that he would do that if given the opportunity. “Okay.” He agrees. “I want you to help me become better at taking care of her.” He bites his lip and looks at you. “What do you want for pay?” He asks, listing off a number that the nanny services had given him. “Does that sound okay? Plus, you’ll have full use of the house. And a card for expenses. I don’t expect you to buy the diapers or wipes or any of that shit.”
Your eyes widen, it’s way more than you were making at your old job. Your landlord has been threatening you with eviction since you’re struggling to pay, and this almost seems like fate. “Wow. I- are you sure?” You ask him and he nods, “I’m absolutely sure.” 
You swallow and offer him a soft smile, “then I’m your new nanny.” He grins and your heart thumps in your chest at how handsome he is. “There’s something you gotta know though.” You sigh and Dieter nods, waiting for you to go on. “Oliver’s father. He - he died.” You feel yourself tearing up, “we - I was only a few months pregnant when we got into the car accident.  I didn’t even know I was pregnant at the time but Ollie- he- he died. We were- we were friends, friends with benefits and we got pregnant and he- he never got to meet his son.” You choke, the grief that’s consumed you threatens to take you again. He didn’t have any family left alive so Oliver would’ve been his only family.
“I’m sorry.” Dieter frowns, unsure of how to comfort someone about a death that meaningful but he feels like he should say something. “That is rough. Hopefully- hopefully this will turn into a good arrangement.” He offers with a small shrug, realizing that things could be worse. He can’t imagine what it would be like going through this alone. “After our coffee, do you want to come over? See the house?” He asks. “I can call my agent to draw up any kind of paperwork you want.”
You nod, sniffing to stop yourself from crying about Ollie. You loved him, he was your friend, but you were never in love with him. He had his problems and you had yours. It would’ve never worked. Oliver is here now and you have to be strong for him, to keep Ollie’s memory alive. “Yes. I- this is a lot but I want to change my life. I need a change. I want to work for you.” You say as the barista takes pity on you with the babies and comes over to take your order. “I’ll have a vanilla latte please.” You order and Dieter adds, “with an extra shot of espresso.”
After taking your orders, Rosie finishes her bottle and Dieter shifts to put her up on his shoulder to burp. “Hang on, you need a spit rag.” You insist, digging in your own diaper bag to produce one. 
“Huh,” Dieter huffs, “I just thought I was supposed to wear her puke until she stopped doing that.” He jokes, the stains on his shirt only partly from his daughter. 
“No, you always carry multiple burp clothes and changes of clothes, for both of you.” You tell him with a smile.
He nods, mentally taking notes. He has so much to learn from you to make sure his daughter is well looked after. He doesn’t want to fail at being a father. He wants her to know he did everything he could to be a good daddy. He knows you will be good for Rosie, for him too. He sips his coffee and watches you with Oliver, rocking his stroller, and he can see you’re a good mom. He feels comfortable with you. “Do you wanna come back to my place?” Dieter asks, realizing that’s the first time he’s asked that question without it being for sex or drugs
You bite your lip and look up at the frazzled, yet handsome man who is offering you a dream situation. A place to live and the ability to stay at home with your son while still earning money. You don’t know if you would ever get a better offer. “Yes.” You agree. “I’ll follow you? Maybe you can text me the address in case we get separated?” You want to look it up really quickly, just to make sure it’s a real place.
He nods, taking your number to text you his address. He is anxious for you to see the house, hoping you love it and it helps to get you to take the job. You strap Oliver into his car seat while Dieter does the same to Rosie and soon enough, you’re driving to his house.
“I, uh, I’ll ask the housekeeper to come in more than once a week.” Dieter offers, climbing out of his car as you do the same. He doesn’t want you to think that it’s all going to fall on you. “Oh, Johan told me about a diaper delivery service. All natural diapers? That’s better, right?” He asks, anxious about doing the right thing. He had read about the chemicals used in the nappies he currently has.
You smile at his anxiety, wanting the best for Rosie, and you know he’s going to be a good daddy once he gets his feet under him. “Johan?” You ask and Dieter nods, “my assistant. He’s - he is my lifeline.” Dieter confesses and you nod, understanding he lives a completely different life to you. He needs an assistant to manage his schedule. You take Oliver out of the car in his carrier and follow Dieter into the house, your eyes wide at the gorgeous home he owns. “This is - wow.” You exhale as you enter the grand property.
“Thank you.” Dieter shows you the bottom floor and opens the door to his study. “I have all this shit I don’t know what it’s for.” The room is filled with boxes of toys and jumpers, cribs and carriers. Johan had gone overboard but Dieter had wanted to make sure that he had everything he needed. Your eyes widen and he blushes, “I was trying my best.” 
You nod, understating he has struggled since Rosie was dropped on his doorstep. “We can get everything set up. Does she have a nursery?” You ask and he shakes his head, “she’s been in my room. I- I haven’t really slept. I’ve been trying to watch her sleep in case, you know.” 
You understand, knowing you stay awake watching Oliver breathing. It’s a lot of anxiety being a first time parent. “We will get her nursery set up and then you can keep her in your room if you want but then she has somewhere to nap and call her own.” You smile and rub his shoulder after you set Oliver down in his carrier, he’s asleep. “It’s gonna be fine.” You promise him, glancing around the beautiful living room. “It’s gonna need some baby proofing and, uh, that needs to go.” You gesture to the powder packet on the counter.
“Oh, I, uh-“ Dieter rushes forward and grabs the packet to sweep it off the counter and into his pocket. “I haven’t- that’ll be put away.” He promises, cursing himself for leaving it out. He hadn’t taken any lately, not since Rosie arrived because he’s too fucking scared of something happening to her while he’s bombed. “Sorry.” He hopes you don’t decide to leave him high and dry because of that. “Do you want to see the rooms you and Oliver could have?” He asks desperately.
You stop him, “I- I am taking the job but you won’t do drugs in this house with the babies. If something happened or they got hold of it - I couldn’t - no drugs in this house. Period. You wanna go get high somewhere else? Fine. But your daughter comes first, you understand?” You ask him, knowing you won’t risk your own son around that kind of bullshit.
Immediately nodding, Dieter understands what you are saying. “I haven’t- not since she’s arrived.” He confesses. “I’ve been too scared to even try in case something happens.” He’s not stupid enough to think he won’t do drugs anymore but he does want to be there for his daughter.
You nod, knowing it’s not ideal but it will have to do. As long as they aren’t kept in the house and he doesn’t do them around the children, it’s his business. You are just his employee. “Okay.” You pat his shoulder and he guides you to the guest suite. “Dieter…this is…wow.” You gasp at the massive room, “this is - this is a lot. Are you sure - there’s no other room you want me to have?” You ask, knowing this room is the size of your apartment.
“You need room for you and Oliver.” He shrugs, not wanting to say that he doesn’t have guests unless it was someone from a party. And he doubts he’s having those here anymore. “This way you have privacy and your own bathroom.” He knows that is important and figured this would be perfect. “And using another room for Oliver is okay too.” He doesn’t want to suggest the nursery can be shared, but he wouldn’t mind. “Will this work?”
You smile, reaching out to pat his arm, “this is more than enough, Dieter. It’s perfect.” You promise and he grins, pleased that you are happy. He sighs when Rosie starts to cry and Oliver follows suit, both babies waking up. “Come on daddy, let’s go feed the babies.”
He feels more confident with you beside him. Even if it’s just your presence reminding him that he should test the bottle on the inside of his wrist before popping the nipple in Rosie’s mouth while Oliver is greedily suckling at your breast for his own meal. “That wasn’t too bad.” He grins down at his daughter, eyes wide but slowly starting to close as she gulps down the bottle. “How often do you have to feed Oliver?” He asks, trying to keep his eyes on your face respectfully. You aren’t giving him a show.
“About every one and a half to two hours. Depends on when he’s hungry. He lets me know.” You chuckle and watch your son as his gulps turn into suckles which lead to him falling asleep against your breast. “It’s - it’s exhausting but he’s worth it.” You smile at Dieter who is rocking Rosie. “You’re getting better already. We will make a list of everything we need for you and, um, I guess I better go and pack.” You smile bashfully, knowing this is a big move but it’s what’s best for you and Oliver.
“Why don’t we hire someone to pack you?” Dieter asks with a frown. You have your hands full and he knows that it will take a lot to take care of your son and try to pack. “I’ll pay for it. I don’t mind. That way we can get the nursery set up.”
“Are you sure? I- I don’t know if you’re gonna find someone so late notice. I don’t have much. And I will need Oliver’s crib and -” 
You don’t get to finish because Dieter is pulling out his phone to call Johan and arrange for your things to be moved today. “Whatever it costs.” Dieter says and you swallow, knowing Dieter has more money than you could imagine if he can waste it like that. 
“Thank you.” You tell him, cradling Oliver who is fast asleep.
“It’s nothing.” Dieter waves away the thanks and looks down at Rosie as she finishes the last of her bottle. “Okay little girl, let’s get you to burp, and then maybe a nap?” He asks, grinning. “She has the manliest burps.” He brags, astounded that something so small could make such a racket. “I have the other cradle thingy if you want to lay your son down.”
“The bassinet?” You smirk and he shrugs one shoulder, “I’m still learning.” You nod and let him guide you to the bassinet and you carefully lay Oliver down before adjusting your shirt after clipping your nursing bra. Rosie burps and you giggle softly, liking how proud Dieter is of her and you watch him lay her down in the cradle next to Oliver. “Maybe they will be best friends.” You whisper, leaning closer to him.
“That would be cool.” Dieter imagines it, his own childhood lonely and isolated. There were times he had wished desperately for a built-in friend. “Let’s get out of here before we wake them up.” He has learned that Rosie is cranky if she gets woken up before she’s ready and he doesn’t blame her, he’s the same way. Maybe she got it from him. “So, uh, since there’s two kids….just, um, we’re gonna need that double stroller thingy, right?” Dieter asks as he walks down the hall with you. “And can you show me that carrier thing? The one you have the baby wrapped to your body? That looks cool. Oh, and uh, the diapers. The service, when we get that set up, use it for Oliver too.” He adds. “No need to have two different types of diapers, right?”
You nod, realizing it’s best not to argue. “Let’s leave them to sleep and we can work on getting the nursery set up. I- I really appreciate this opportunity, Dieter.” You tell him and lean in to kiss his cheek. He blushes as you set your phone up as a makeshift baby monitor, calling his phone, and you leave the babies to sleep. Dieter follows you, his eyes dropping down to your ass, and he curses internally when he realizes he finds you hot. 
****
“Dieter!” You call out, trying to find your boss. Oliver and Rosie are having tummy time on the play mat and you need your breast pump. It’s been a couple of months since you moved in with Dieter to become his full time nanny and it’s been surprisingly nice. Rosie is a good girl and you’ve grown to fall in love with her, making sure her and Oliver get equal treatment. “Can you get my pump?” You ask when he doesn’t respond.
“Yeah!” Dieter reluctantly lets go of his cock and tucks it away in his dress slacks. He had been trying to tug one out before he had to go to court, formally getting custody of his daughter. Nervous and not able to get high, jerking off had become even more of a habit than before now he had started thinking about you while he was doing it. You’re so fucking pretty and kind. Looking like an angel as you take care of his daughter. Dieter knows that he’s falling in love with you but he can’t do anything about it. Not willing to risk you leaving and denying Rosie the best nanny in the world. Washing his hands quickly, he rushes to the kitchen to grab the pump where you had cleaned it last night while he sterilized bottles. “Here it is.”
You thank him, breasts aching and you attach the suction, not thinking about Dieter as you sigh in relief at the milk finally being pumped. “Shit. That feels good.” You groan, the whooshing of the machine pumping and you have been pumping enough for Rosie to have milk too. It’s been a lot but you love the babies. “What time do you have to leave?” You ask Dieter, catching him staring at your tits and you hate that it thrills you. He’s so sexy, unintentionally so, and goofy as hell. He’s good with his daughter and you’ve grown close, raising the babies together, and you know it’s getting harder and harder to deny how you feel every day.
“Oh, uh, I gotta leave in twenty minutes.” His cock is still hard in his trousers and he twitches at the groan you make. Every day you pump, having no modesty around him now and you shouldn’t - it’s natural but Dieter still thinks it’s sexy. “I’m nervous.” He admits, glancing over at Rosie as she squeals and waves her arms on her tummy. “I know that my lawyer said it’s a formality, but what if the judge doesn’t like me? What if he takes Rosie from me?”
You shake your head and reach for his hand, squeezing it. “I promise you, it’s gonna be fine, D. You’re a good daddy and that will be shown. I know your past hasn’t been ideal but you got this. You’re a good man, Rosie is lucky to have you. We all are. It’s gonna be fine. I promise you.” You offer him a soft smile and squeeze his hand again.
“I’m more nervous than the night I won my Oscar.” Dieter confesses with a nervous chuckle. He doesn’t tell you that he was high, sure that you could guess that, although he has done anything more than hit his weed pen since you’ve moved in. Rosie is surprisingly therapeutic, although he’s glad she doesn’t understand what he talks about during the nights he gets up with her. The movie is almost halfway done shooting and he’s going to make sure that once he’s done, you get a week off so you can veg for more than a night. He looks down at your joined hands and smiles. “I’ll call you when I get out, okay?” He asks, and you nod, letting go of him. “And eat that kale and beet salad in the fridge”, he throws over his shoulder as he rushes towards the door. “It’s supposed to help the milk supply.”
You roll your eyes playfully, looking back at the babies. “Daddy is silly, isn’t he?” You talk to Rosie and look at Oliver, saddened that he isn’t going to know his father. You wonder what Ollie would think of Dieter. They are similar in a lot of ways but Ollie was always practical, making sure you weren’t in a relationship because of his strenuous job as a firefighter. He didn’t want you to be one of those women sitting around waiting for him. You sigh and wonder what you are going to do about Dieter. It’s too comfortable with him. 
****
“Dinner’s ready!” You call out. The babies are now six and seven months old. Sitting in their baby bouncers, watching you setting the dinner out for Dieter. He’s finished filming and you want to celebrate. The nice bottle of wine on the table alongside his favorite pasta.
“Oh my god, you spoil me.” Dieter groans as he comes into the dining room, freshly showered and in comfortable clothes. Rosie squeals happily and so does Oliver, both of them in their high chairs. Dieter grins leaning in and blowing a raspberry on his daughter’s cheek and then on your son’s. He never thought he was a kid type of person, but his playfulness extends to your son. He’s a good kid and it would not be right when you are so good with Rosie if he ignored the little guy. It makes him imagine that the four of you are a family, a real one and he was coming home from work to all of you. “You didn’t have to do this.”
You shake your head, enjoying the way his hand finds your waist as you reach for the parmesan on the counter. You turn to face him, cupping his cheek, “you just finished filming. You deserve a treat.” You smile, caressing his cheek and your eyes dip down to his lips for a second. He stares at you and you clear your throat, lowering your hand, “let’s eat. You must be starving.” You set the cheese down and glance over at the babies, you fed them while dinner was cooking so now you and Dieter can enjoy your meal.
“How was your day?” He’s finding that this, fatherhood and responsibility, is grounding for him. Not just concentrating on his whims and trolling through boredom. Every day is different and challenging with kids, especially when he’s trying to make sure that none of his own parents' mistakes affect Rosie. “The kids were okay?” He asks, pouring more wine into each of your glasses. You hum in protest but Dieter shakes his head. “Just pump and dump. You deserve more than one glass.” He huffs.
You sigh but let him pour some more wine, it’s been stressful with the babies today. “Rosie decided to throw up all over Oliver and herself so both of them needed a bath and then Oliver managed to get his diaper off in his onesie so he needed another bath and then Rosie wouldn’t stop crying because Oliver wasn’t next to her. It’s been - it’s been a day.” You sigh and Dieter nods, reaching for your hand. It feels so normal, like you’re complaining to your husband about your hectic day over wine and you look up at Dieter, “I love them both so much but today was…it was a lot.”
“I can imagine.” Dieter squeezes your hand gently and once again thinks that it’s odd that you don’t feel like his employee. You feel like his wife, although he’s never kissed you, or touched you like he’s imagined. “Let me take both the kids tonight.” He offers. “I’ve got the next week off before I have to do all the press bullshit for the other movie coming out in two weeks. Why don’t you take a little vacation? A spa or something?” His parenting skills have improved drastically and there have been times where he’s watched Oliver for you. Like when you had to go for another postpartum checkup.
You groan, letting go of his hand so you can continue eating. “I won’t lie…a massage sounds good. My back has been killing me.” You confess, twirling the pasta around your fork and you bite your lip, wondering what a massage from him would be like with his hands. “I wouldn’t mind going to the mall. I need some new clothes that aren't leggings.” You chuckle, “and I need some new underwear.” You sigh before you chew on the pasta.
Dieter’s cock twitches at the thought of your underwear. Not that he sees them. You’ve taken over doing the laundry even though he offered to have someone come in. Or he could help. Insisting that it was no problem. Johan had even commented that you made his house seem like a real home, and Dieter couldn’t deny that. “You could do all that.” He promises. “I’ll watch the kids. I want to spend some time with R and O.”
You feel guilty leaving the kids behind but you trust Dieter, something you never thought you’d say, but he has proven himself to be an amazing father. You smile, “thanks baby.” You tell him and he swallows the wine down. It’s getting harder to deny how you feel. After finishing eating, Dieter helps you clean up while you have the babies in the play pen. “Bedtime for the bubbies.” You coo, picking up Rosie and kissing her hair. “Daddy is gonna change you, baby girl.” You slide her into Dieter’s arms and pick up Oliver.
“Why don’t you go take your own bath?” Dieter offers, grinning down at Rosie. “You’ve had them all day and you said it’s been rough. Go take a bubble bath. I can get them ready for bed.” He’s made huge strides as a father, as a caretaker and now that he’s more confident, he finds he likes it. Kids are fun. And easy to learn how to please. “I can rock them both and get them settled.”
“Are you sure?” You ask, trusting him but you want him to be comfortable. 
“I am for this.” He promises and you nod, “you got this. I- I can feed O before they get to sleep.” You say and he shakes his head. 
“No. I got it.” He promises, knowing he can warm up your milk. 
You lean in to kiss the babies’ heads, “goodnight my loves. I love you so much.” You say to them and you look up at Dieter, offering him a grateful smile. You make your way into the bathroom, sighing in relief when you sink into the tub.
Dieter hums to the babies as he warms up their last bottles of the night. Changed and in clean onesies, they are ready for that last bottle. Smirking to himself as he tests the breast milk on his wrist and barely resists licking it. He wants to try it, but he feels like that might be crossing a line. Getting both of the babies settled in each arm and they can hold their own bottle now with a little help. “You two are like twins, you know that?” He coos at both of them, settling in the rocker on the nursery while they eat. Watching their eyes grow heavier as they suck. You had both decided to keep them in the same nursery, letting them bond and it has worked out so much better than he had ever hoped. He loves Oliver like Rosie and when they fall asleep at the same time, he’s grinning as he holds them for a little longer before shifting to put them to sleep in the same crib. They cried if they were separated, curling up together during the night as if they were twins.
You sigh, relaxing in the hot water until you decide to get out and say goodnight to the babies. You shrug your robe on, tying it as you make your way to the nursery as Dieter leans over the crib. “They asleep?” You whisper and he nods. You caress their heads, loving how they are asleep together, keeping each other safe. Sometimes you see them holding hands in the night. It’s adorable. You rest your head on Dieter’s shoulder as you watch them for another moment and he turns his head to kiss your hair. It makes your heart pound and you pull away, letting the babies sleep with the white noise machine running.
Dieter’s hands seem to be twitchy as you walk out of the nursery in front of him. He knows that you are only dressed in a robe and he wants nothing more than to strip you out of it and touch you. Make you shake in pleasure. “Do you want to have a drink?” Dieter asks. “Or are you calling it a night?”
“A drink sounds good. Relax after a long day.” You smile, walking into the kitchen to open the second bottle of wine you’d bought earlier. You work fast to open it, pouring a glass and handing it to him before you settle on the sofa. “You wanna continue watching that show on HBO?” You ask, knowing he hates it when you watch an episode without him.
“Yes!” Dieter lights up and he narrows his eyes at you playfully. “You better not have already watched it.” He threatens playfully, handing you the remote. He likes when you relax and loves that you feel completely at home here. It is your home. He leans towards you and takes a sip of the wine. “What do you think is gonna happen, this episode? The previews looked good.”
You nod, shifting closer towards him. “I promise you. I haven’t seen it yet.” You assure him and have another sip of your wine. You love and hate how relaxed you are, how easy this is. How real it feels. Like you’re a proper family. The baby monitor is on the coffee table and you rest your head on Dieter’s shoulder as he presses play. You barely watch the show, too focused on the way Dieter feels pressed against you.
About halfway through the show Dieter shuffles, throwing his arm around the backside of the couch and around you. Letting you slide down against him more. You pull the throw blanket over your legs and he smiles, wondering how you are always cold but it’s a cute quirk he’s noticed.
You snuggle into his side, hand finding his chest and you caress the skin under the shirt he always has half buttoned. He sighs and you breathe him in, pleased to feel his heart thumping under your touch. This intimacy, it’s what keeps you satisfied when you yearn for more but you can’t risk it. Your job. Your home. Your life is connected to his and you can’t afford to mess it up. 
“Marry me.” Dieter says and you think you misheard him. 
“What?” You ask, not moving. 
“Marry me.” He repeats and you jerk back from his side so you can look him in the eyes. 
“What- did you just ask me to marry you?”
“I did.” Dieter nods, turning towards you and reaching for your hand. “I love you. I love how you make this house feel like a home. I love how you care for Rosie and I love Oliver.” He adds. “I love coming home to you and I want this-“ he motions around the house and between the two of you. “To be real. I want to touch you, kiss you. Make love to you.” Dieter isn’t a man who talks in terms like ‘making love’ but that’s exactly what it would be. “I think you love me too, don’t you? I know you do.”
You shake your head, wanting to tell him you love him. He’s crazy, he leaves his socks everywhere and he has so many holes in his shirts but he’s kind and whacky and so damn funny. You love him, you’re in love with him, but to marry him would be a bad idea. You can’t risk this life you’ve created together. “Dieter.” You sigh, pulling your hand out of his. “We can’t. We can’t risk the babies. We - if it all went wrong, then I’d be moving out with Oliver and Rosie loses him and vice versa. If it all went wrong, I’d be homeless and I wouldn’t have anything. I can’t risk that for my son. I can’t. I’m sorry.”
His heart breaks but he’s determined to convince you this is a good thing. Latching onto what you said about being homeless, his eyes widen. “I’ll buy you a house.” He bursts out. “In your name alone. It’ll be yours. Completely.” He nods to himself, grinning like an idiot and picks up your hand again. “It won’t go wrong, you’re perfect and I love you. I want to be with you and our babies all the time and fuck, I want another baby when you’re ready.” He missed everything about Rosie’s birth and he wants to see your stomach large with a baby, his baby. “But if it did-“ he stresses the word ‘if’, “-you would have a house for you and Oliver. And you could rent it out right now. The money would be yours. Totally yours.”
Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “I can’t - that’s too much. A house here is insane. That’s a crazy amount to put into this. That - a whole damn house? That’s what you want to do?” You ask incredulously and he nods. 
“All I know is that I can’t stop thinking about you. I need you. I love you.” He promises and you swallow harshly, tears stinging in your eyes. 
Your heart yearns for him yet your head tells you it’s too much of a risk. “Dieter…” You trail off and he frowns, pulling away slightly, sensing your rejection. “I love you.” Your eyes water and a sob escapes your lips as you start to cry. No one has ever been so kind to you. To know he loves you enough to buy a house so you feel secure in case something goes wrong. It has you sobbing.
He lunges forward, crushing you to him in a comforting hug. “Don’t cry baby, please don’t cry. I never want you to cry.” He pleads, sure that he’s messed up somehow. “I’m sorry, I just can’t stop wanting you. Seeing you with our babies, I think- I wish they were ours. Our twins and we had them together.” He rubs your back and pets your hair as you sob into his chest and he tries to think of how he could make you feel better.
You sob into his chest at his words, wishing they were true but it’s not and that’s okay. The babies brought you together and you know you and Dieter would’ve never met if it weren’t for that single moms group. “I - I love you.” You offer him a watery smile as you pull back and he reaches out to gently wipe your tears away. “I love you and I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I love you Dieter.” You confess, cupping his cheeks.
Dieter’s smile is slow, soft and he can’t believe that you are saying yes. He leans in and presses his lips to yours softly. Loving how you immediately open for him to slide his tongue against yours with a groan. Pulling you close against him again, this time shamelessly pressing his body against yours. “I love you.” He promises, kissing down your jaw line. “Do you want to have sex with me? Or do you want to wait?” He wants you in his bed, but if you wanted to wait until the deed to the house was in your hands, he would understand that. He would go out tomorrow and buy you the best house he could find.
You know you’ve spent far too much time thinking about him, having him inside of you, pressing against you, and you know you should slow down but you can’t. “I want you. I don’t want to wait. I want you now.” You tell him breathlessly and you press your lips to his, cupping his cheek while you slide your tongue against his.
Groaning, Dieter pulls you closer and starts to lean you back against the sofa, knowing that he needs to take you to bed but right now, he needs to feel you under him. “So beautiful.” He praises, kissing your chin and nips your skin with his teeth.
You sigh, loving how it feels to have him touch you. His hand sliding along your thigh and you whimper, “Dieter. Please. I want you to touch me.” You plead, guiding his hand to the tie of your robe while your hands caress his chest under his ratty t-shirt.
He hums, twitching against your hip and he leans back and grins at you, “I’m going to, baby. I’m going to make sure you know exactly what you are getting from me.” He pulls your robe open and groans at the sight of your tits. Looking back up at you. “Can I taste?” He asks. “I’ve dreamed of tasting your milk.”
Your cunt clenches around nothing at the thought. “You’ve imagined it?” You ask breathlessly and he nods so you move fast to straddle him, his cock hard against your thigh, and you lean in towards him to kiss him as you shrug your robe off of your shoulders. “You can have a taste.”
He knows your tits are tender, hearing you complain and watching as you sometimes have to massage them. He cups them in his hands, groaning at how full they are, grinning. “Fuck, I can drink it all since you were going to dump it.” He realizes as he leans forward to wrap his lips around one nipple.”
“Oh shit.” You gasp, groaning softly at the relief and arousal coursing through you. You love it. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you watch him gulp down your milk and you’re amazed that he enjoys it. “Oh God baby.” You pant, feeling the relief of your milk draining and the way he sucks on your nipple, biting it now and then.
“Shit.” He gasps, feeling his cock throbbing. “It’s better than I expected.” He moans, switching to your other breasts and he knows this will become a favorite thing for him now. One hand slides down between your thighs and he is so fucking happy to find you wet.
“Dieter. Please.” You beg, needing more from him. It’s been so long since someone touched you. Not since Ollie. You rock down onto his fingers, loving how he rubs your clit while his lips suckle on your other breast. “Oh fuck, D. So good.” You whimper, caressing his shoulders.
“What do you want, baby?” He pulls off your nipple with a pop. “You want me to eat your pussy?” He groans at the thought. “Want to sit on Dieter’s face? Smother me with your cunt?”
You giggle breathlessly, “that’s the only way to shut you up?” You tease and he nods, “one of the few ways.” 
You laugh and he moves fast to shift, laying down and he pulls you over to hover over his face. “Shit baby. So good to me.” You gasp when he drags you down on top of his face.
The first taste is always amazing. Sliding his tongue though your folds as he pulls your hips down onto his mouth. Holding you there as he licks and then sucks on your clit.
You whimper, “baby. Oh baby.” You moan, grinding down onto his face. “So good. So fucking good.” You moan, loving how enthusiastic he is and he squeezes your ass, encouraging you to move. You do, rocking your hips down even more.
He doesn’t care that you two are on the couch or that he is throbbing in his pants. All he cares about is making you moan his name. He knows he will slide inside you as soon as you cum for him. He moans against your clit, loving how you are smothering him just like he wanted you to. Using him for your pleasure.
“Fuck. Fuck. It’s so good, baby.” You pant, lost in the pleasure of his mouth on you. You rock on top of his mouth, his nose pressing against your clit as his tongue pushes deep. “Fuck baby. Yes. Yes. Yes. Keep - keep going.” You beg, moaning his name.
He can’t breathe, but he doesn’t care. Too busy licking into you to feel your walls start to convulse around his tongue. Moaning when the first rush if your juices hit his mouth and your moan of his name almost makes him cum in his pants. Digging his fingers into your hips, Dieter doubles down on making you shriek his name.
You throw your head back as he makes you cum, moaning his name as you clamp down around his tongue. “Fuck baby. Fuck. I- I love you.” You whine when he works you through it and you whimper, lifting off of him when it becomes too much.
Panting like he was the one who had cum, Dieter licks his lips, completely pussy drunk as he caresses your side. Enjoying the boneless way you collapse on top of him as you try to catch your breath. “I love you. Fuck, you’re my new favorite meal.”
You inhale deeply, shifting off of him and you waste no time in tugging his shirt off of him. “Baby. I want to see all of you.” You tell him, tossing the ragged shirt away and you pull his sweats down to expose his cock. “Holy - that’s what you got?” Your eyes are wide at the girth and you wrap your fingers around him.
Dieter groans, bucking his hips and biting his lip in pleasure. “Fuck, is that not enough?” He gasps out. Normally women have no issue with his size but maybe your Ollie was hung like a horse.
“Not enough? Dieter, baby, I’m gonna feel you tomorrow.” You assure him, “I’m gonna need - wow. You might have to get some lube.” You admit and you start to pump him, in awe that your fingers don’t touch. You know it’s been so long since you’ve had sex and he is thick. You’ve always preferred girth over length anyway. “You’re big.” You promise him, leaning in to flick your tongue over the leaking slit.
He preens at your praise, eyes rolling back in his head at the feel of your tongue. “I’ve got lube.” He promises, reaching down and cradling your jaw. “Use it all the time, jerking off thinking about you.” He’s not ashamed of masturbating while thinking of you. “Baby let's go to the bedroom. You can ride me if you want more control.”
You want to suck his cock but you know you’ll have plenty of time to do that later. Right now, you need him inside of you. Releasing his cock, you pick up the baby monitor and stand up, smirking as you make your way to his bedroom. He’s scrambling to get his sweatpants off and you disappear down the hall, throwing over your shoulder, “don’t keep me waiting, Bravo.”
“Shit.” He hisses, eager to chase after you. Noticing that you are headed to his bedroom and not your own. “I’m coming baby, fuck.” He watches your ass shake as you sway your hips. “Gonna buy you the biggest fucking house I can find.”
You giggle, setting the monitor down on the nightstand and you gasp when Dieter’s hands grab your hips, pulling you back into him. You quickly spin and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his. “I love you.” You murmur against his mouth, his hard cock pressing into your stomach.
“I love you too.” Dieter moans softly, sliding his hands down and squeezing your ass. “Do you- do you need me to wear a condom?” He asks, sure that you aren’t wanting to get pregnant so soon after having your son. It wasn’t like you two had discussed birth control.
“No. I- I got an IUD put in. Figured they might as well do it while I was there and it wasn’t painful. I’m clean too. Not been with anyone since Ollie.” You promise and wonder if he’s clean. You don’t know when he slept with someone last. Maybe after you arrived. You don’t know. It’s not like it was your business when you were just his nanny.
He nods. “I uh, I haven’t been with anyone since Rosie has shown up. I’m clean.” He promises, eager to slide inside you and feel you without a barrier. “I didn’t want to do that kind to shit around her. Give her a good example. Don’t want her to be like me.”
You cup his cheeks, “you’re a good father and she’s gonna be just fine. You’re doing a good job.” You remind him, leaning in to kiss along his jaw. “Come on baby, you want me to ride you?” You ask and he nods. You let go of him and he walks over to his nightstand to grab the lube while you kneel on the bed. When he’s laying down, you grab the bottle and squirt some into your hand, wrapping your fingers around his cock to coat him before you swipe your fingers through your folds to make sure you’re slick enough. “Fuck, you’re gonna stretch me out.” You tell him as you straddle him.
“Want to see it.” Dieter pants, chest heaving as he watches you position his cock at your entrance. Moaning your name as you start to sink down on him, he can feel his entire body light up in pleasure at the hot clutch of your cunt. “I love you. I fucking love you.” Dieter cries, his fingers digging into your thighs as you slowly take him deeper, watching your mouth drop open and loving the way you moan his name.
Your eyes close as you slowly sink down onto him. He’s so thick, it stings, but you like that. It’s been so long since you had sex and this is the man you love. Your heart pounds in your chest as your thighs meet his, his cock fully inside of you, and his fingers sink into your flesh. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” He grunts and you giggle, leaning down to kiss along his jaw. “I fucking love you too.” You murmur, licking along his neck until you are biting his earlobe so you can give yourself a moment to adjust to him.
He whines, unable to stop himself from lurching up in pleasure. “Oh did you like that?” You giggle breathlessly, making him moan and turn his head so you can do it again. 
“More baby, fuck. Want you to mark me up.” He begs, so starved for attention that he needs to drown in it. His hand squeezes your ass again and it takes concentration to not urge you to move, your walls fluttering so deliciously around him.
You love how desperate he is for you. Biting down on his earlobe again and his cock twitches inside of you. You take pity, finally feeling comfortable, and you shift, rocking on his cock while you nibble on his ear, whispering “you’re mine. I’m gonna make sure everyone sees it.” You smirk as you kiss down his neck, sucking and biting on his skin.
“Fuck yes, I’m yours, I’m yours.” Dieter chants, rocking his hips up to chase your cunt when you lift off of him. Hating even the brief few seconds where he’s not buried inside your warmth. “All yours baby.” He groans, closing his eyes at the pure bliss of being able to touch you, to tell you what he’s thinking without worrying about offending you. “Gonna marry you. Give you everything.” He gasps out.
You moan, “I’m yours too. Been yours since I moved into this house. I’m gonna be your wife.” You promise and he groans, hands caressing your back. You kiss his collarbone and shift back, making his cock sink deeper and you grab his hands to help you balance as you ride his cock. “Fuck. Yes. God, so good. So good inside of me.” You ramble, squeezing his hands as you start to pick up the pace.
“God, fuck, your pussy is gold.” His toes curl and he loves how you start to bounce on his cock. Making your tits away heavily and he watches with them unabashed lust. “So fucking gorgeous.” He pants. “Can’t wait to see you pregnant, riding my cock.”
“One day.” You promise with a grin, breathless from how good this feels. You let go of his hands, leaning back to grab his knees, and you grind down onto his cock, hitting just the right spot to make you gasp. “Fuck, baby. Oh my - I’m - it’s gonna make me cum.” You confess, reaching down to rub your clit.
Dieter frowns and slaps your hand away, pouting up at you. “Let me.” He insists, pressing his thumb to your clit and rubbing a tight circle over the bundle of nerves while you bounce on his cock. “Fuck baby, cum, please cum. I’m gonna -“ he hisses. “Not gonna last. Too fucking tight.” Your walls clenching down around him every other bounce is getting to be too much and he grits his teeth, praying he lasts long enough for you to soak his cock.”
Your moans are getting breathier as you struggle to breathe from the pleasure. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Dieter. I’m gonna - oh!” You moan, clamping down on his cock and soaking him, his thumb still working your clit until your thighs are shaking. “Cum for me.” You beg breathlessly, wanting to feel it as you convulse on top of him from your orgasm.
You don’t have to say anything else. His entire body is aching to cum, gripping your hips harshly as he starts to thrust wildly up into your body. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shiiiiiiiiiit.” Dieter whines, burying his cock half a dozen more times before his back is bowing and he is crying out your name, filling you with hot spurts of his seed.
You pant, collapsing onto his chest as his cock twitches inside of you, and you kiss along his neck. Unable to speak, you enjoy the aftermath of your orgasms. The connection you feel to Dieter has you on cloud nine. He’s a good father and a good man, despite what the paps print. He’s changed for his child and that makes you love him more. “Good?” You ask breathlessly, hoping he enjoyed it as much as you did.
“So fucking good.” Dieter’s eyes are closed and his expression is one of pure relaxation. Enjoying the way you feel on top of him. “God, you’re spending the night right here. Every night from now on.” He slides a hand up and down your back, enjoying the feeling of your slick skin under his palm. “Now we just need the kids to sleep through the night.”
“Soon. They are getting better. And you want another one to keep us awake?” You tease, giggling when his cock twitches inside of you. 
“I do.” He promises and you caress his cheek, leaning back to look into his eyes. “Me too. One day.” You lean in to softly kiss his lips, knowing you want this man to be your husband, to be everything. **** 
“Diet, babe. Can you get me that - shit.” You hiss after you feel the baby kick your ribcage. 
“Bad word mama.” Rosie points at you and you nod, “sorry, love. Mama needs to sit down.” You tell the three year old. Ollie comes over to sit down on the sofa next to you, his small hand on your belly as he leans in to talk to the baby in your belly. Rosie follows suit, wanting to do what her brother is doing. 
“Hello baby. It’s me. Your big brother-” 
“and sister.” Rosie adds as she leans in to press her ear to your stomach. You smile, tears in your eyes and look up to see Dieter walk into the living room. 
“You called baby?” He asks, paint splattered all over him from painting the new nursery. 
“Yeah. I’m sorry. Can you- can you get me some ice cream?” You bite your lip, knowing he’s been run ragged with your cravings.
Dieter grins, shoving his hand through his paint flecked hair, although he teases that the gray is because of you and the babies. “What kind of ice cream do you want, babe?” He strides over and rubs your bump before dropping a kiss on your lips. “Rocky road or are you wanting that cheesecake strawberry swirl?” He knows you will probably text him with more cravings, but he doesn’t mind. You are carrying his baby and you get what you want.
You smile at him, loving how flustered he looks when he has to go get your cravings, and you run your fingers over the kids’ heads before they look up at Dieter. 
“Can we have ice cream, daddy?” Rosie asks, that pout she definitely got from Dieter on her face. 
Oliver nods, “yes! Vanilla.” 
Rosie shakes her head, “chocolate!” 
You giggle and look at your husband, “I’ll have rocky road. Guess it’s an ice cream day.” You say and the kids cheer, excited to have ice cream.
“Vanilla, chocolate and rocky road.” Dieter nods, smiling down at the kids. He could never deny them much and while they would be considered spoiled, they were very well behaved. “Oh-“ he snaps his fingers. “Before I forget. The management agency called. They found another renter for the house and said that the repairs for the house were minimal, just paint to freshen up.” 
True to his word, he had bought you a house, deeded it in your name and hired a management company to handle the day to day issues and repairs. All of the profits were deposited into a bank account that was solely yours, even though you had access to everything of Dieter’s. “So that’s a weight off before the baby comes.”
The money going into that bank account is going to pay for the kids’ college. You won’t use it for yourself, not when you are happily married to Dieter. “Yes. Glad they managed to find another tenant.” You smile, reaching for his hand to kiss the back of it. 
“Daddy!” Oliver rushes over to him after shifting off of the sofa. 
“Yeah, buddy?” Dieter groans as he bends over to pick him up. 
“Can I come? To get ice cream?” He asks and Dieter nods, “of course.” You smile, loving how close Oliver and Dieter are. You adopted Rosie and he adopted Oliver not long after you were married. It felt natural and meant to be. Your little family, complicated but perfect. 
“We will be right back. Rosie, you wanna come?” Dieter asks and she shakes her head, climbing onto the sofa. 
“I wanna stay with mommy.” You pull her close, “we can watch our show while the boys are out.” You tell her in a playful whisper and she grins. 
“We will be back soon.” Dieter promises and you smirk at him, “after ice cream, the kids need to nap. Mommy needs ‘nap time’ too.” You say to Dieter and he smirks back at you, “what mommy wants, mommy gets.” He promises, knowing he wants you to moan his name while the kids are asleep. From Rosie getting shoved into his arms on a random day, to having a family with a baby on the way. Dieter never imagined being a family man but now, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
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b-o-e · 1 year
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paint me like one of your french girls
Wally Darling x Reader
Warnings: you aren’t very good at painting lol
although it is not necessary, I highly suggest reading my fics in their recommended order for the best experience! here is the link to all my silly lil wally fics in order. this is #2 :)
You weren’t the best painter, nor were you the best at picking up hints…
“... this is atrocious.”
You were not a painter. You were finding that much out right now.
“Well, don’t say that. It has me in it, so it can't be that bad, ha ha.” Wally jested.
Ehhh…
“Are you almost finished with it, neighbour?”
“I wouldn’t say I’m finished, but I’m almost ready to give up, yes,” you grumbled, the bristles of your brush carefully swiping some more paint onto the canvas. Yikes! Not carefully enough, it seems.
Wally noticed your grimace, laughing lightly. “It’s going to look good, I know it,” he claimed.
“You’re easily pleased, though,” you huffed, eyes flickering to him in a half-hearted glare. He giggled, shaking his head.
“I am honest,” he grinned, raising his right hand to swear on it. “Cross my heart, always and forever,” he promised, drawing the ‘x’ over his chest with a happy smile.
“At least I think I did Home some justice,” you snickered with a shrug. “You, not so much, Wally. I think you can still tell it’s you, though?”
“I’m sure I look amazing. Handsome!”
“I wouldn’t use that word for it, but the real you is?” You offered.
“Why, you’ll make me blush.”
You laughed lightly as you continued to paint, Wally remaining as still as a statue in his chosen position in front of home. His eyes never left you.
He loved the expressions you made. He just adored the twitch of your brow when you don’t quite approve of a detail, the silly grimace you wear when you’ve made a ‘mistake’, the way your tongue poked out a little when you were extra focussed... You were so entrancing!
“... going to start being a bit less uptight now,”
Wally hadn’t caught the first part, but figured out what you were saying.
“I guess I should probably give myself a little more credit than I am.” A little smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Oh! He enjoyed that expression most!
“I’m happy you say that,” Wally said, “I do mean it when I say I believe I will like it. Everyone has their own unique style. It’s nothing less than that,” he added, “plus, it’s made by you. That gives it extra special points!”
“Special, alright,” you joked quietly to yourself. It was definitely a unique piece, your painting.
“I just need to remind myself I don’t have much experience with this,” you sighed, “I need to cut myself some slack. I know practice is necessary to be as good as someone like you at this, and I haven’t put much of that in,”
“And if you were ever interested in such, I would always be around to offer my help if you so desire,” Wally assured.
“Thanks, Wally,” you tore your eyes away from your work, looking over at him. “I appreciate you. Always so sweet to me,” you sighed out dramatically. Unfortunately, your gaze didn't stick on him long enough to notice the redness growing on his cheeks from your compliments.
“Alas, I think I’m all done now,” you giggled, stepping back from your work. Now that you look it over, it really wasn’t too shabby, especially with your limited skill!
Wally stood up from his spot, starting his way over, as you turned the easel around so that he and Home could both see it. When Wally was close enough, he leaned forward a little, examining the painted canvas. Despite the knowledge that Wally would never judge you, your nerves twisted a little in your stomach as you watched his eyes study it with such intensity.
It was silent. He’s observed it for at least a minute now, not a word said.
“I know it’s-”
“It’s wonderful,” Wally cut you off, straightening his posture, his smile growing. “The absolute most, as is its creator,” he added as he looked at you. “Can I have it?” he asked, head tipping to the side.
“You… Want it?” you giggled sheepishly, peering over at your goofy little creation. Was it really nice enough for him to want to keep it?
“I love it, so of course I would like to have it. If you allow me to, of course,”
Your painting wasn’t much. To you, at least. To Wally on the other hand, it truly was extravagant.
It was cute. He and Home were nicely depicted together, Home painted quite well, and in his opinion, he himself had not looked nearly as bad as you’d been letting on.
His face had a cute, simple little smiley on it, as did the sun in the sky, two silly little features among others that you had added when you decided not to care so much anymore. It made him giggle. Overall, it was just yours, and that’s what really sealed the deal on his love for it.
“Hmm… where should I hang it, though? Maybe by the couch?” He wondered aloud, tapping his chin. “What do you think, Home?” He turned to face it, receiving quick excited waves and squeaks from the door. “Ha ha. I think that, too.”
“You actually want it?” You questioned,
“Of course,” Wally nodded. “Oh no! How impolite of me. I should be offering some sort of payment,” he realized.
“For this?” You laughed, looking back at the artwork. “I dont think it’s worth a whole lo–”
“Mwah!”
Huh?
You gaped at Wally, hand on your flushed cheek, right where his lips had been moments prior.
“Will that do?” He smiled.
You could only stare in disbelief, mind working overtime to process what had just happened.
“Neighbour?”
You laughed. You laughed, and you shook your head, hands covering your face. Oh, those silly little thoughts of yours!
“Oh my goodness, Wally,” you snickered. “Be careful with that! Someone might take it the wrong way,” you warned, a little giggle following.
“What do you mean, neighbour?” Wally questioned, brows furrowed. “Is kissing not a good thing?”
“I mean, it is, but there's two ways it can be perceived: platonically, or romantically,” you explained, rubbing at your face in an attempt to get rid of your blush with a cheeky smile.
“Think of it like this. Eddie and Frank kiss as a way to show their romantic love for each other. That's because they’re a couple,” you continued. “Are they who you learned it from?”
Wally stared at you for a moment, trying to comprehend all that you’ve said. Finally, his shoulders slumped slightly as he answered.
“... Yes,” he admitted, a bashful smile on his features.
“I figured,” you sniggered. “I mean, I’m not saying I didn’t like it or anything, but just keep what I said in mind,” you joked lightly with a playful wink, “but, we should find a place for this painting, shouldn’t we?” You placed your hands on your hips, looking between him and the piece.
“That sounds like a good idea, neighbour,” he agreed, carefully picking up the dried painting, grabbing the easel in his other hand.
“Let’s do that, then,”
“So, how did it go?” Eddie asked, placing a toasty mug of hot cocoa in front of a sulking Wally. “Not that great, I presume..?” He smiled sympathetically.
“They said to ‘be careful’ because ‘someone might get the wrong idea’...” he gave a gloomy smile. “But they also said they ‘didn’t dislike’ it?” He offered.
“So they thought the right idea, but brushed it off as being wrong,” Frank snickered, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of the situation while he sipped on a mug of his own.
Eddie sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck with a chuckle. This was harder than the couple originally anticipated…
You two would be the death of this neighbourhood if you didn’t perceive your feelings for each other soon.
yyyello!! I hope you enjoyed reading this!
here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me! likes and reblogs are very much so appreciated B) (again, gimme dopamine boost, RAHHHHH) until next time <3
Posted Tuesday, April 25, 2023 at 11:29 AM
1K notes · View notes
musings-of-a-rose · 4 months
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Weighted Blanket
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Pairing: Will Miller x f!reader
Word Count: 860+
Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 
Notes: Chatting about what a great weighted blanket this man would make and so I dedicate this to @laurfilijames. This was not beta read.
**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!
❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)
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**Reader is not described
Main Masterlist
Will Miller Masterlist
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Today had been the day from hell. You knew it would be, especially since you’d been out for several days being sick. Morning meetings ran long, everyone scrambling to prepare to open, and then the patients? Don’t even get me started. 
When I finally get into my car at the end of the day, I turn on the ac and rest my head against the headrest taking several deep breaths, just listening to the vents pumping cool air into my hot car. I just have to make it home. A shower is waiting for me and Will should be home today.
Will. 
My amazing boyfriend of a year and a half. Will had to go away for work for a few days and was finally coming home. I know a few days isn’t that long but it killed him to leave me when I was sick. And to be honest, I hated not having him there, sick or not. 
His truck is in the parking lot when I pull in and I smile knowing he’s upstairs. I hurry to our apartment and push my key in the lock, quickly shedding my shoes and tossing my bag down on the little side table before heading towards the kitchen, where sounds and a delicious, heavenly smell were emanating from. I lean against the door frame, just taking in the sight of him. Will, standing at the stove with his back to me, casually making my favorite food, his hair still wet from a shower, navy blue shirt stretched thin over his broad back and thick arms, grey sweatpants hung low on his hips. He clicks off the burner and divvy’s the food onto 2 plates before turning, his face lighting up when he sees me.
“Hey, sweetheart. How was work?” When I don’t answer right away, he let’s out a low whistle. “That bad, huh?”
I nod, pushing off the door frame. “Nothing I didn’t anticipate. Still sucked though.”
“You hungry?”
“Starving. But first I need to shower. I feel so gross.”
Will sets the plates down and takes a few large steps towards me. He moves for a hug and damn do I want one, but I’m gross. People actually spit up on me today. So I sigh, stepping back and Will puts his hands up, freezing in place. 
“Must have been really bad.”
“You don’t even want to know.”
He winks and blows a kiss at me, turning back to finish up dinner. The shower was glorious, the hot water and bubbles relaxing me somewhat, and washing away all of the gross from my skin and hair. I don’t linger, my stomach grumbling as I pull on some pajamas and head straight for the kitchen table, where Will had just set down drinks for us. Before I sit, he pulls me to him, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, his hands cradling my face. 
“I missed you, sweetheart.”
“I really missed you too, Will.” He starts to deepen the kiss, but is interrupted by the loudest grumble yet from my traitor of a stomach. He laughs, placing a hand on my tummy. 
“Let’s get some food in you.”
—----
Dinner was delicious, as usual when Will cooks. It’s not just that he follows the recipe to a t, but he has his own personal flair to it. Will’s cooking can make any sour mood turn sweet. Or maybe that’s just me. 
After our bellies are full, we sit on the couch and I curl my body against his, feeling his large arm wrap around me, the warmth from him seeping into my bones. He kisses the top of my head and rests his own there, both of us content to just be with the other. But my day was hard and before long, I feel my eyelids drooping. Will must have noticed because I swear I blinked and somehow ended up in bed, Will pulling the blankets up around me before crawling in next to me. He tries to pull me to him, but it’s not what I need. He crooks his finger under my chin, lifting my head to look at him through sleepy eyes. 
“Do you need Will blanket?” I nod, my eyes barely open. 
Will helps me lay down on my back, making sure my pillow is adjusted before he drapes half his body over mine, linking one of his muscular legs with mine as he tucks himself over me. His arm drapes over my body, rubbing small circles into my opposite arm. I turn my head and realize my nose is in the perfect spot to nuzzle into his hair, so I do it, inhaling the scent of him. The weight of him on me settles my nerves, the last bit of overstimulation and wired emotions leeching from my body the longer I feel his breathing, his body pressing into mine. 
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you too.”
It’s so tender and loving, full of care and I think about how much I love this man as he gently lulls me to sleep.
In the morning, he has different plans for me and I’m so glad I got the rest I needed.
—----
General Taglist:
@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri @marrianena  @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol   @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry @mysterious-moonstruck-musings
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halfagone · 10 months
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The Power of DPxDC
There has been a lot of anti-DPxDC sentiment going around lately; if you haven't heard about it, then don't worry about it. This isn't a post about the negativity, this is a post celebrating how much we've done as a crossover fandom!
Just as a bit of perspective, I've been reading fics from DPxDC since 2020. Now that might not seem like a long time ago, but back then we didn't even have 100 fics for the crossover as a whole, and look at us now! This is a screenshot from Ao3 just today:
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Incredible, isn't it? Look how much we've grown and contributed and shared! And that's not even mentioning all the wonderful Tumblr prompts and posts and incredible fanart. DPxDC has us in a chokehold and it isn't about to let go any time soon.
I know it can be a little disheartening to see all the people trying to drag us down. I know I've been left disappointed in some cases, but I also know that my love for the crossover hasn't abated at all, and I hope it stays that way with you all too!
There is so much engagement in this crossover, I cannot tell you enough how much you all have spoiled me with comments and kudos and fanart. A lot of my fandom friends like to tease me for writing so much, but I don't think I could have written half of those fics had it not been for people like you loving them as much as you do.
Passion is the lifeblood of this fandom, of every fandom! And I don't see that going away any time soon for DPxDC.
I know I want to comment and kudos more. I read a lot of fics, but I don't sign in often so that you can see me leaving that kudos, and it's been more and more apparent to me how many people don't realize how much I adore their writing. I'm hoping to fix that!
Some might say that we don't tag our work appropriately, and while that might be true in some cases, I cannot stress enough just how good of a job we're doing. @tourettesdog made a wonderful post not too long ago about tagging, and we do clean work! Not even a full 3% of all the tags they'd seen included a "main" tag, which has been the frustration for most. 3%? That's incredible!
You all deserve some appreciation for the hard work y'all do, and this is it! I hope you all know how well you've fed creators, readers, and fans like me! Don't let up, because we do amazing work. And that deserves to be celebrated.
499 notes · View notes
sitp-recs · 5 months
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My AO3 Wrapped: 16 Drarry Recs
This year I’ve embraced a change of pace and read way less than I intended to. This made me feel a bit disconnected from fandom but also allowed me to put this list together in record time so let’s not complain too much 😂 this is shorter and lacking my usual commentary but I didn’t want to break the tradition of sharing my fave reads of the year! Be it for their creativity or peak romance, these 16 amazing fics made my heart beat faster and got me even more in love with Drarry. I’ve read most of them in the first half of the year and it was interesting to see so many fics over 40k, as my usual sweet spot is 10k - 20k. I love the mix of tropes featured here and am very excited to rec authors I’m reading for the first time. ps: I haven’t included any Erised fics since the fest is still ongoing.
Thank you dear creators for sharing so many brilliant works with us this year! 2023 wasn’t my best year fandom-wise, but life has been so generous in other areas that I can’t help but feel humbled today. I wish everyone a lovely start to the new year! As always, please mind the tags and take some time to shower these authors with the appreciation they deserve. Oh, and stay tuned for a rare pair list sometime soon ;)
🍆 Snug by @moonflower-rose (E, 6k)
8th year | touch-starved Harry | soft cock kink
Potter can't keep his hands off himself. Draco can't look away.
🧩 Muscle Memory by @corvuscrowned (E, 8k)
curse breaking | partners to lovers | memory magic
There's something just beneath the surface, just at the periphery of Harry's mind. They've been here before — they've done this before. If only he could remember it.
👹 draco malfoy's substitute murder service by @oknowkiss (E, 10k)
odd jobs | D/s undertones | open ending
When Harry joins the Curse Breakers shortly after his twenty-fifth birthday, he’s surprised to find himself assigned to the Department of Creatures, Cryptids, and Associated Calamities.
🏰 the earth from a distance by spqr (E, 15k)
time travel | Wizarding history | only one bed
“Well,” Harry said gamely, once they’d managed to find the Leaky Cauldron – still under construction but mercifully open for business – and he’d turned up a few knuts from his pockets, enough to get them a room for the night, “it could be worse.”
🎚️ O Come, All Ye Faithful by toomuchplor (E, 20k)
vicar Draco | established relationship | Church of England
Aunt Petunia died, that was what began everything. Or rather, Aunt Petunia was dying. In the act of dying. In which Draco finds faith in the church, and Harry finds faith in Draco.
🎄 Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w and @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 22k)
shop owner Draco | summer romance | light angst
'Twas the night before Christmas, although it’s July / Draco’s a shopkeeper, no-one knows why / There’s hiking and witch caves, freak snowfalls and more / Bad Christmas jumpers, nosy neighbours galore / Narcissa’s here too, but… something’s amiss / And what’s in those chocolates that’s making them kiss?
🚬 Sun Thief by @floydig and BlackRose532 (E, 28k)
slice of life | fast sexual burn | dark humour
It’s 2005, and Draco Malfoy says, “Fuck the Ministry,” Harry works as a handyman in muggle London, and Draco should really stop pissing off the Squib gangs.
🍷 Winner Takes It All by @skeptiquewrites (E, 41k)
break up make up | down & out Draco | hurt/comfort
As with all his friends’ wagers, it starts small. Fifty Galleons for one kiss from Harry Potter is easily done.
🏖️ LA, Who Am I To Love You? by @epitomereally (E, 42k)
Draco in the Muggle World | pining Harry | recreational drug use
Harry’s summer in LA is not going as expected. Pansy Parkinson keeps inviting him to parties in the Hollywood Hills and harassing him to finally go to the physical therapist, Blaise Zabini keeps slipping new strains of his company’s magical weed into Harry’s pockets in hopes of an endorsement, and Draco Malfoy keeps having sex with everyone but Harry.
🫃Shine On, You Crazy Diamond by @lagerloutfic (E, 42k)
fwb to lovers | gay awakening (Harry) | mpreg (Draco)
Harry has probably always wanted Draco, it just took him a few years to figure that out. A story about the joy of discovering exactly who you are and how easy it can be once you do.
🚣‍♀️ Our Objective Remains Unchanged by @citrusses (E, 46k)
rowing AU | enemies to lovers | university setting
Harry Potter, returning member of the Oxford University Boat Club, has two goals for the spring of 2005: beat Cambridge, and beat Draco Malfoy. Perhaps not in that order.
🧶 Polar Night/Midnight Sun by toomuchplor (E, 54k)
cabin fic | wintery vibes | only one bed
Harry travels to arctic Norway on the trail of dragon egg poachers, only to find he's been assigned to work alongside the only NorMagPol Auror north of sixty: one Draco Malfoy.
🎩 Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (E, 58k)
holiday fic | fake relationship | mutual pining
Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed.
👮🏻‍♂���Rookie Moves by peu_a_peu (E, 75k)
auror partners | slow burn | humour
Aurors Potter and Malfoy crack the case.
🖼️ where all the veins meet by @saxamophone (E, 146k)
sad bois | Grimmauld Place | found family | 8th year
It's the summer of 1998. The battle is over, and Voldemort is dead, but Harry still has more questions than answers. Who is he without a piece of Voldemort's soul in his head? What is he supposed to do now?
📼 Always Already by @aibidil (E, 170k)
time travel | forced proximity | mutual pining
Harry and Draco are perfectly fine, separately minding their business in 2004, when the Unspeakables conscript them into service... in the First War against Voldemort.
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marlenesluv · 9 months
Note
Hiiiii beautiful. I an idea if you don't want to write it. that's okay. I have this imagine like charles dating an plusize (face claim : Javiera or courtney jean l just loves them ) but when they announced their relationship but she just getting a lot of hate but she just doesn't care about this hate but charles don't like this and release a statement to stop this hate. and again if you don't want to write it that's okay 💞💞
Hate doesn’t bother me. (CL)
hi, love!! and no no, i love this so much! charles is such a protective cutie, this is so sweet. i’m assuming this is a smau, if you want a fic as well, js lemme know! :) 💓
face claim: javiera
warnings: fans being mean, one fat shaming comment (dw, it’s shut down)
note: i have been fat shamed before, it’s not fun. so pls pls be kind to everyone. every single one of these beautiful humans on earth are amazing and sexc. don’t be a cunt.
masterlist here -> masterlist link
^ check my list for all posts! ^
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liked by: yourbsf, charles_leclerc, and 325,828 others
y/n.user: panamá is perfect for dates, don’t ya think?
view comments…
user57: why tf did charles leclerc like this?
|> user04: he could js be friends with her? idk man
yourbsf: OKAYYYY YOU ATE BABE🤎🤎
|> y/n.user: AHHHHH ILY🤎
y/n.fp: you look stunningggg
*liked by creator*
charles.fans: isn’t charles in panama??
|> char.fp: hopefully not. she is not the vibe fr
|> charles.fans: ikr?? no way she’s with him
lilymhe: ☺️☺️ pretty pretty
|> y/n.user: that’s you🤭
user19: LILY?? oh naw, i don’t need THIS tdy
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liked by: carlossainz55, y/n.user, and 915,176 others
charles_leclerc: panama is beautiful, but i can thing of something more beautiful…
view comments…
carlossainz55: hope you’re having fun this break! miss you!
|> charles_leclerc: miss you too, bro!!
user46: y/n liked this……
|> charles.fans: i knew this was gonna happen, ew
|> ferrari.fp: he is way out of her league bro….
f1updates: these comments are kinda dramatic but i live for drama
pierregasly: have fun😏
|> charles_leclerc: stop texting me.
|> pierregasly: wow. miss you too🖕
charles.editpage: he’s so hot
user10: i refuse to believe that he’s there with y/n, she’s j not pretty like his other ex’s were
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liked by: charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 469,360 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
y/n.user: wtf is a soft launch?
view comments…
user56: that was bold….
|> user03: nah cuz who tf does she think she is?
charles.fans: byeee😭 this is NOT real
charles_leclerc: we don’t know what a soft launch is😋
|> y/n.user: nopeeee
char.myhub: NOOOOO. HER BUT NOT ME???
ferrari.fanpage: she’s so ugly what is going onnnn
|> y/n.fp: she’s not tho….
|> ferrari.fanpage: she is. she’s bigger than him
|> y/n.fp: ur actually mad bc she’s not a size 0? grow tf up fr. she’s literally a MODEL, and what are you bebe?
|> ferrari.fanpage: shes a PLUS SIZED model.
|> y/n.fp: what’s ur point? you are NOT a model😭you’re fr j mad cuz she bagged charles and you didn’t. grow up
carmenmmundt: you guys are so cute
*liked by creator*
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twitter:
F1 Wag Updates @f1wagupdates • 3hr
Charles Leclerc, driver for Scuderia Ferrari, has officially announced his relationship with Model, Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N has always faced a certain level of hate for being a plus sized model, and with recent news relating Charles, it has only gotten worse.
We ask that you please keep rude comments to a minimum, preferably none. Keep insults to yourself, lets support Y/N and Charles. They seem like quite the happy couple.
*please note that comments on this tweet have been disabled, as we want no hate spreading through our comments*
*comments have been disabled*
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liked by: charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, and 639,013 others
y/n.user: vacation is coming to a close :( but i can’t wait to see you shine this year on the track <3
view comments…
charles_leclerc: i can’t wait to have you dressed in head to toe ferrari gear :)
|> y/n.user: i can’t wait either, my love
user71: i genuinely can not accept this
charles.fanpage: shes so ugly, pls break uppppppp
carlossainz55: excited to have a new face in the paddock! can’t wait to meet :)
|> y/n.user: awe, i can’t wait to meet either! charles rly talked you up
|> carlossainz55: he did??
|> charles_leclerc: no…
user49: this is not real this is not real this is not real
yourbsf: stunner
|> y/n.user: i miss you
|> yourbsf: i miss you sm more
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your instagram story:
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seen by: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 499,012 others
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liked by: y/n.user, pierregasly, and 1,103,944 others
charles_leclerc: i don’t know what i did to gain such an angel in my life. someone who makes me smile from a simple text notification to seeing you when i wake up. i can not fathom the hate my girlfriend is receiving. you do not know her or me, don’t go around on social media like you do. i haven’t been this happy ever. don’t compare her to other people, dont belittle her, and do not leave rude comments. i am sick and tired. i love you, ma cherié. it’s a miracle that you can put up with me <3
*view comments*
*comments have been limited*
y/n.user: i love you so much. the hate doesn’t bother me as long as you’re here
|> charles_leclerc: i have no idea how nothing bothers you
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(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)
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