#off in their own world istg | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Users from the US are the majority of Tumblr visitors.

#off in their own world istg

theres-whump-in-that-nebula · 8 months

Text

The paranormal is super interesting to me. I think a lot of people see the bad side of it because they don’t treat entities with respect and sensationalize them. Rationally, if they are real dead people, then they should be treated as one would any other human; if they are spirits, then they are simply another species as intelligent as ourselves, and should also be treated with the utmost sensitivity, since their culture is likely different than our own due to their lack of physical bodies. Terms like “angel” and “demon” moralize these phenomena, and could possibly be taken as slurs by non-corporeal beings who understand the language these words are spoken in.

I dislike the term “ghost hunting” because the wording is much like the kind you’d use to refer to hunting a species of animal. I also dislike the concept of commercialized haunted locations. Imagine someone — who believes you are a horrifying monster — barging into your home with cameras, hoping to take pictures of you. Imagine someone opening up your house as a tourist attraction — a zoo — for the whole world because they think they can make money off of how creepy you are… Honestly, I don’t think the ghosts are the ones being creepy.

Yeah, I’d be strangling people and throwing shit across the room too if I had to deal with the clout-obsessed, phone-toting paparazzi that are living humans.

#paranormal discourse #is that even a tag #ghost rights #like ok I’m agnostic so I don’t necessarily believe every paranormal story I hear but I am inclined to believe spirits are real #one way or another #because of my own experiences and because so many people have their own experiences that cannot be explained #I believe there is an explanation for everything; and that “magic” is just phenomena unexplainable by *today’s* science #Tomorrow’s science may explain why we see some things; whether “tomorrow” is in five years or five centuries no one can know #We will get there eventually #Or maybe we won’t because human perception is so limited (we can’t see shrimp colors for instance)#But imagine what we could gain if the spiritual and physical worlds formed a bridge to collaborate with their knowledge #IF that spiritual world exists in the way we think it does — and we may be very wrong about that #But yeah… if ghosts are what we think they are… everything about the way we’ve been treating them is ABHORRENT #Putting *people* in *zoos*#nah #nonono #I’m all for communication and cultural exchange; but it should be performed professionally and ceremonially like a diplomatic meeting #My brain goes off the fucking rails at night istg h e l p #I’m right though

5 notes · View notes

itsjustaninchident · 5 months

Text

Starlight☆

Lando Norris x Model!Wife!Reader

smau

summary: Getting married means having children.... Or not? 5 months into marriage and a lot of hate and pressure has been thrown on the couple. A part 2 of To the Moon and To Saturn.

warning/s: sexual innuendos, misogynistic comments, hate comments (tell me if I missed something)

author's note: This is the most tedious and longest work I've probably done here 😭 I definitely enjoyed doing this, I enjoy reading comments from you guys and also requests are always open, I'm just not fast in making it but I'll definitely do your requests🤍

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 1,321,987 others

yourusername oh sorry can't find it on the mirror where I gaf

view 63,483 comments...

user1 THE IT GIRL OF THIS GENERATION

user2 THE FUTURE KIDS WOULD SAY THEY WERE BORN IN THE WRONG GENERATION UPON SEEING THIS GIRL IN THE FUTURE

user3 scrolling through the pictures slay after slay and then lando norris

user4 i still can't believe they're married

user5 Can't wrap my head around how a man who drives for a living is dating the hottest girl alive

landonorris can't believe it either

user6 at least he's self aware

user7 you're both hot tbf

user8 why are hot people only for hot people

user9 this is just too cute

user10 their kids are gonna be good looking istg

user11 I mean the parents are both good looking so

user12 can't wait omg they're gonna look so cute😭

yourusername respectfully, no.

user13 oh.

user14 is this how I confirm they both don't want children😭

user15 yn shutting off comments suggesting kids for both of them😭 she's just like me fr

user16 yn is so real for that😭 she def saw that tiktok girl with the list

user17 THE WORLD IS SIMPLY NOT READY FOR THIS GIRL😭

user18 haters are found in the ditch i fear

landonorris

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,239,876 others

landonorris P2 in Singapore!❤️

view 32,987 comments...

user1 congrats lando!!!

user2 definitely deserve!

user3 why is yn not present in the sg gp?

landonorris she's busy with work :)

user4 shouldn't yn be present to her husband's races, she like missed 4 races already?

user5 girl she can't possibly be with him all the damn time😭 she's got work too

user6 leave yn alone, she literally go all out whenever she can support lando in his races

landonorris she supports me even though she's across the world, it's not her responsibility to go to every race and she has her own work to tend to.

user7 GAGGED!

user8 when he never lets anyone talk shit about you>>>>

user9 they definitely deserve each other

user10 can people stop demanding for yn and just congratulate lando😭 leave the girl alone she's not doing anything to y'all

yourusername CONGRATS BABY! any requests? ;)

user11 HE'S DEF GETTING IT😭

landonorris i think i've made it clear on chat🤔

yourusername assertive, i like it🫡

user12 STOP BEING HORNY ON MAIN?

user13 they're literally unstoppable 😭

yourusername

liked by lilymhe, landonorris, and 976,890 others

yourusername let me fix my shoes first

view 21,765 comments...

lilymhe can u please divorce the L word and elope with me?

yourusername contacting the lawyers📞

landonorris HEY!!

alexalbon maybe we're the ones meant for each other, mate

user1 L WORD?!😭

user2 this is actually alex's karma for calling his girlfriend the squid game girl😭

user3 personally would be my last straw

user4 why is yn always outside, can't even become a decent wife and do her chores

user5 women should just stay in the house and cook.

yourusername you should try a challenge

user5 and what is that?

yourusername it's called shutting tf up

user6 GET HIMMMM

user7 you idiots, that's literally her job she needs to constantly attend events and model products she's not outside for NOTHING, unlike you.

user8 maybe that's why they don't have kids together lol he definitely would divorce her later on

yourusername checked your profile, looks like you're not even close to getting your first girlfriend

user9 HELP😭 OMG I LIVE FOR UNFILTERED YN😭

user10 these disgusting comments about yn... she's so strong to be able to handle all of these hate just because she's married to a well-known athlete.

user11 the absolute sickening moments ever for women, we can't have anything. The world does not want us to be happy.

user12 true, makes me think how she even deserves all the hate comments when she's been the nicest, most supportive, and loving partner to lando

user13 the answer is easy, she's a woman who married a man. All these men who never grew out of their highschool phase suddenly think they've got the right to talk shit about her just because she married their favorite athlete🙄

user14 YN CAN YOU PLEASE STEP ON ME

user15 calm down girl, my boyfriend's on this app🥵

yourusername oh honey, if your boyfriend admires other girls he's not your boyfriend anymore

user15 IM JUST KIDDING I DON'T HAVE A BOYFRIEND YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE I WANT

user16 she's an it girl and a girl's girl🫡

user17 she really said don't let any man disrespect u

via interview...

via twitter...

via article...

via twitter...

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carmmenmundt, and 2,309,674 others

yourusername baby #1 full of food

view 23,029 comments...

landonorris can't believe this is how I find out I'm gonna be a dad

yourusername thanks for feeding me ig now u're gonna have to take full responsibility

landonorris i fully accept becoming a father of food

user0 idk what's up with these two😭

user-1 they're literally the perfect match both of them goofy af

yourfriend is this for real?!

yourusername no bae ;)

yourfriend AMEN

user1 not yn trolling the whole damn nation only for it to be a food baby😭

user2 this is what the media gets for pressuring them into becoming parents when clearly they want a different path lol

user3 true, they've made it clear numerous times already that they want to enjoy their married life more and not involve kids in the process

user4 they're so real for that

user5 I remember in an interview of yn with the same question and she said something like "I just feel like in this day and age, having children isn't a priority for most people of this generation and I'm glad that most of us are realizing how big of a deal it is to have children and deciding to not bring them in this world when we are very self aware of our capabilities. It's time we should stop pressuring couples, more so women in giving birth because it's not the only thing we're here for."

user6 SHE'S SO SLAY?!

user7 MY ELOQUENT QUEEN

user8 slay after slay

user9 everyday i have to be reminded that im actually not married to yn and we dont have 4 kids tgt

user10 SHE'S LEGIT SO ICONIC FOR THIS😭

user11 a slap on the face for those nosy people up in their business

hope y'all actually enjoyed this as much as I did writing it😭 comments are highly appreciated 🫶 lovelots♡

#lando norris x oc #lando norris x reader #fluff #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 socmed au #f1 fanfic #lando norris #f1 smau #lando norris au #lando fluff #lando norris x y/n

886 notes · View notes

wynnyfryd · 6 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 16

part 1 | part 15 | ao3

cw: unsympathetic religious discussion, mentions of oral sex (istg if you’re under 18 i will send such a sternly worded letter to your legal guardian, go aWAY)

“So just, to recap…” Eddie says dully, digging a thumb into his brow bone like he’s got a headache coming on. He’s sitting on the floor with his back against a work bench — one knee drawn to his chest, the other stretched out long, nearly tripping Steve where he's pacing a hole into the concrete. He lets his head fall against the bench with a thunk, looks up at Steve and continues, “we just got abducted by two asthmatic freshmen—”

“Pretty sure Dustin's the only one with asthma.”

"Okay, and I’m pretty sure that doesn't fucking matter when we've just been kidnapped and forced to play the world’s shittiest version of Seven Minutes in Heaven!"

Eddie takes a shuddering breath, brings his voice back down an octave. "Sorry,” he says, then sighs morosely to himself. “Imprisoned by my own sheepies…”

What a goddamned drama queen.

“Sheepies?” Steve asks.

"Never mind,” Eddie huffs. “Just... I mean, Jesus Christ, is this really what's happening? This? This is really where my life's at right now?”

Steve’s been wondering that himself.

“It's an intervention!" Dustin screeches. "It's for your own good!” “I’m gonna intervene your head from your body!” “That doesn’t even make sense!” Steve gives the metal above him one final, fruitless shove, then sinks down on the steps and puts his head in his hands. Pinches the end of his nose. His voice is hoarse from yelling, his temples starting to throb. Eddie’s shaking beside him like a cat that fell in an ice bath. “Seriously,” he pleads, lowering his voice. “Let us out; this isn’t cool.” “We will, okay? We promise. Just talk to each other first. Please? Just fifteen minutes.” Aaand he's yelling again. "Fifteen— are you out of your mind??" He's about to say 'hell no,' or maybe 'go fuck yourself,' but then Dustin yelps, “U.S.S. Butterscotch!” 'U.S.S. Butterscotch.' It’s basically the Scoops Troop's 'Olly olly oxen free.' “Goddammit, dude, FINE!”

“....Yeah, that about sums it up." Steve runs a hand through his hair, sweeping his bangs back off his forehead.

Eddie gives him a worn-out stare. “Well, shit.”

“Yep.” He goes back to his pacing — back and forth, back and forth, like it's actually doing anything to calm him down. (It isn’t really. If anything it’s just making his lower back damp with sweat.)

On the floor, Eddie shivers and draws his other leg to his chest, chin resting on bony knees, arms wrapped around his legs. "Christ, it's freezing," he complains, rubbing a hand over his shins. "If we die of exposure before I get to exact my revenge on those little assholes I'm gonna be so pissed."

"Here—" Steve starts to shrug off his jacket to give it to Eddie, but then he remembers the pills he still has stashed in the left pocket and abruptly changes course. He turns to the storage shelves, scanning for anything that might be useful, and— "There we go."

He makes his way to a messy pile of old camping supplies, scoops up an armful of whatever he can find: sleeping bags, flashlights, a lantern, some old citronella candles. They won't do much for warmth, but they'll make the place a bit less Russian torture chamber, at least.

Eddie eyes him a little warily as he sets up a spot right beside him on the floor. He spreads one sleeping bag out for them to sit on like a picnic blanket; offers the other one to Eddie, who drapes it over his shoulders like a cloak, his long, dark curls spilling over the edge.

"You got a light?" he asks, arranging the candles and the lantern in a half-circle around them.

"Sure do,” Eddie says. His face lights up when he slips a hand inside his pocket. "Oh, hell yeah, baby! Look what else I got."

He pulls out a silver flask, flashing it at Steve, and Steve ignores the way the words 'hell yeah, baby' bounce around his skull like an echo through an empty cavern.

"A little insurance policy in case the dinner party was a bore." Eddie unscrews the lid; takes a wincing swig. "Would have taken boring over this, though. Think I might’ve gotten a little more excitement than I bargained for." "Yeah,” Steve laughs under his breath. "You think?"

Eddie passes him the flask, sets to lighting all the wicks while Steve takes a shot. The whiskey is cheap, and it stings on the way down, but it's nice. Warm. Liquid amber in his chest, glowing like the candlelight Eddie sparks to life.

Eddie settles down beside him. With the workbench at their backs and the warm tint to the room, it's almost cozy. Reminds him of backyard sleepovers with Tommy; a little fortress built for two.

“Do you think they’re still listening?” Eddie's eyes flit to the stairs.

“Probably." Steve takes another swig, gesturing to the shadows beyond their makeshift camp. "He probably got Suzie to help him bug this whole place."

"Ah, yes. The crazy hot, crazy smart summer camp girlfriend who totally exists."

"She does, actually,” Steve laughs, “if you can believe it."

"No shit?"

"I know, right? I mean, like..." He scratches the side of his nose. "She's Mormon and lives all the way out in Utah, so it's not exactly like... but, whatever. He's super into her, so—"

"Hold up. Dustin's dating a Mormon?" Eddie says it like he’s spitting sunflower hulls. "That's almost worse than her being fake."

“What, you got some kinda history with Mormons?”

“Oh, yeah," Eddie snorts derisively. "The Mormons and I go waaay back."

"Wait, for real?" Was Eddie in a cult? Because that would actually explain so much.

"Dude. No. Hell no. Those fuckers love to solicit the downtrodden, though. They show up at the park all the time.”

“Great,” Steve deadpans. Another wonderful amenity of the Forest Hills experience.

“Don’t worry. Wayne usually just crosses himself at them until they go away.” He makes the sign of the cross, his rings glinting in the light. “Catholic middle-aged men and LDS teens, now there’s some quality petty drama.”

“So you’re Catholic, then?” Steve asks.

“Jesus, Harrington. We’re supposed to be kissing and making up and you want to start a religious debate?”

No, he absolutely does not. He wants to make fun of Eddie, because, "That’s the second time you’ve mentioned kissing." Eddie’s cheeks go horribly pink; peach tint in the deep orange glow. “First you wanna suck my blood at dinner, now you’re talking about making out. What next?” Steve teases. “You gonna offer to suck my dick?”

He means it as a joke — a slightly rude one, sure; insinuating, but still. He expects Eddie to get it, to roll his eyes and play along. Ha ha, Harrington.

When he used to say shit like this to Tommy, Tommy would always just laugh and shove him off, tell him to go suck it yourself.

Only Eddie doesn’t laugh.

Eddie goes quiet. Runs his tongue over his teeth. He fixes Steve with one of those looks; the kind that make him feel like a burglar caught in a flood light’s beam. “Why?" he teases back. "Did you want me to or something?”

—

part 17

tag list below the cut comment if you want to be added to the next one

@acedorerryn @ahsokatanoss @angrydonutdestiny @annabanannabeth @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awolfstudio @bananahoneycomb @bronwenmarie @burymestanding @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cr0w-culture @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @evillittleguy @fandomfix8 @foolofentirelytoomanyfandoms @goodolefashionedloverboi @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @heartsong18 @hellion-child @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @kassifieddocuments @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #st fic #my writing #my fic

777 notes · View notes

insomniacirl · 5 months

Text

!! MAJOR JRWI EPISODE 114 SPOILERS AHEAD !!

I just had a sick and twisted fucking thought about episode 114 and I need to share it to the world.

Okay, so Chip realises his mistake- trusting Gillion's clone and failing to see the red flags because, well it's Gill (I could go on a rant about this too)- Gillion's clone has pushed him to the ground and is towering over him. If Chip could bleed, his nose would probably be bloody.

And at this exact moment, where Chip can't use his magic to defend himself and his best-friend is threatening to kill him- we cut back to the real Gillion, who is running up these flights of stairs away from a monster that could literally breathe on him and end his life, he's on 1HP.

AND HERE'S THE THING. HERE'S WHAT I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT.

Destiny's Blade glows in Gillion's hands and whispers that, 'Chip is about to die.'

Gillion- with zero hesitation- goes running to find him and save his life.

THIS SCENE HAS SO MANY LAYERS TO IT- YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW, MAN- ISTG.

So, for starters, Chip is undead- he physically cannot die, or at least not very easily; I'm guessing that it would take an incredibly powerful, god like entity/bad guy to actually end his undead life now. And yet, Destiny's Blade says that he's about to die.

The blade itself was designed for slaying the undead and the evil entities Gillion himself was designed to fight against- but when it comes to Chip, there's nothing Gillion wouldn't do to protect him with this sword. And that reflects on Destiny's Blade, I would imagine- the blade supports Gillion's destiny, his fight for good.

And to add to this, I don't know if Chip actually could've been killed by clone Gillion- but the idea that he came close and that the sword instinctually reached out to save his life is just- WRAH.

It also highlights just how scared Chip was, because he couldn't fight the clone even if he wanted to, not only because of the magic barrier- but because it's Gill, his co-captain, his best-friend, his paladin (a pirate and his paladin I'm sorry- I love them sm lmao).

And yes, Gillion is known for taking ridiculous risks to keep his friends safe, willing to take every blow and keep fighting like it doesn't hurt because he's a knight, he was trained for this, this is what he's good at- but he runs to find Chip, ON 1HP. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH- THIS MAN WAS IN PIECES, HIS SKIN HAD BEEN TAKEN FROM HIM, AND IF NOT FOR THE DEATH WARD HE PROBABLY WOULD'VE DIED. But he runs off to find him anyway, no hesitation, no thought of his own well-being, only that Chip is in serious danger and he needs to save him. He won't let him die twice.

PRAYING THAT SOMEONE READS THROUGH THIS TANGENT TBH BECAUSE I'M GOING INSANE RIGHT NOW- I'M SORRY THIS IS SO LONG LMAO 😭🙏

501 notes · View notes

syeren · 5 months

Text

“How they would comfort you” — JJK MEN HEADCANNONS.

GENRE: Fluff, mix of comedic comfort, overall comforting auras <3

________

GOJO

gojo is so unserious please

if we’re talking about teenage!gojo, good luck.

atp you gotta help yourself with your own comfort because HE would do anything and everything to make you one of two things:

angry or trying to be angry at him but end up laughing

“Please?”

“No.”

“C’mooon—“

“I said no.”

Gojo lets out a huff in annoyance, mimicking the same movement as a child as he juts out his lower lip. “You’re no fun.”

You gave him a look, a look of pure disbelief and awe as your own boyfriend was throwing a tantrum. During your shift at work, it was obviously not the best. With customers blazing in with drink orders that stacked to the bottom of the sticker, spill-mishaps, and that bitchy manager of yours… You opted to vent to Gojo in hopes to ease your mind. Well… You had hope, atleast.

“I’m literally having the shittiest day and you—“

He cut you off, widening his eyes largely while staring into the depths of your soul. You had stopped talking as you also stared him down, not wanting to back off from the silent fight of eye contact. Copying him, you too enlarged your eyes with tears threatening to prick themselves close.

“What are you doing?” You asked him, still holding the eye contact. Without blinking, Gojo responded back in a monotonous manner.

“Looking.”

“For what?”

“I dunno.”

“You’re hopeless.”

The fight continued on, seconds passing as both of your eyes reddened from the lack of moisture. The air felt chillier, and any gust of air that passed both of your pupils would be deadly to this competition. You swore silently you wouldn’t lose this battle, and intensified your gaze with your eyebrows furrowed. Upon doing that, however, the sight of Gojo’s unblinking eyes and silent tears rolling down his cheeks was definitely a sight to see. You stifled a laugh, not wanting to ruin your opportunity to win until you let it out. Your shoulders shook as you giggled loudly within the bedroom, wiping the tears away as Gojo returned the same enthusiasm.

“W-Why the… Just why?” You asked, still heavily confused about the whole eye contact competition, but finding it ultimately amusing. You calmed yourself down, letting out the occasional breathless chuckle.

“I would rather you let out happy tears than sad ones. So, turns out I won anyway.”

“Fuck you.”

________

NANAMI

the BEST comforter, hands down

tbh i’ll say this honestly rn,,, i wasn’t a big nanami fan previously but even i would tell this man would be sooooo great at making you feel better

puts YOU firsthand, no objections

if you end up objecting tho, then he will take matters into his own hands

“I can take care of myself, y’know?” you stated firmly, trying to push off Nanami’s strong grasp around your arms. The man in question simply heard you cough once, and deemed it as a sign of you getting sick.

He let out a gruff sigh, not responding to you with words but through his actions, hoisting you up easily by your thighs and carrying you to his king-sized bed.

“One cough and you think this is the end of the world!”

“That one cough can end up making you think that the world is ending for you,” he retorted back, placing his hands on his hips as he finally situated you onto his bed; the plush duvet covers instantly swallowing you whole.

“You always think you can handle yourself,” he continued, pulling the duvet covers up and gently lifting your head from the pillow, fluffing it up a bit before placing you back down. “If you really want to try and take care of yourself, I will not dismiss that… However…”

He crouched down beside the bed, balancing on his haunches as he smiled softly at your tired expression.

“… At least let me aid you a tiny bit, love.”

________

MEGUMI

this hoe istg

hoe in a loving way by the way, pls don’t track me down

BUT! since this boy is SO nonchalant and passive, however he has that certain side to him that makes him so welcoming and warm. it’s charming, to say the least.

it’s like he knows you and your quirks so well that you didn’t even notice them at first

You and Megumi were walking hand in hand down the busy street of Tokyo, Harajuku, in hopes of finding the cute café you were eyeing a couple weeks back. You were astounded, of course, but Megumi was getting a little antsy of not being able to locate the café you had your sights upon.

“We’ve been walking for ages,” he sighed, matching his pace beside you through the busy streets. You gave him a look before flipping your attention back to the map on your phone, staring hard at the complicated details provided.

“No wait— Ahh! Maybe we take a left over here?” you said, turning abruptly which caused Megumi to be swallowed by the crowd. You whiplashed your head to the side to locate him, but to no avail, he was gone from your side.

A slight rise of anxiety started to bubble up in your chest until warm, slender fingers laced around your own. Peering up, you saw your boyfriend instantly by your side once more, leading you through the crowd wordlessly. Never once did he loosen his grip, it was firm and gentle. A tiny squeeze of his hand alerted you to look at him again, to which a little smile was plastered on his face.

“Hurry up. I found the café you were trying to find.”

You didn’t notice the same café’s address was in his phone’s search bar, though.

________

YUJI

LORDDDDDDD

golden retriever boyfriend right here

so undeniably understanding and prioritizing to your needs, no wonder he looks up to nanami a lot

i feel like he’d be the type of boyfriend who would go through a spontaneous, yet step-by-step routine to pamper you

You were over at Yuji’s house, unwinding and relaxing while playing on his PC. Well, trying to unwind and relax, but the stupid game you wanted to try out wasn’t going so well.

“Fuck!” you screamed out, running your fingers through your hair and tugging at your scalp. “I got the same character pull again!”

Yuji peeked over at the screen, apparently this game had a gacha system implemented in it. Certain number of pulls have a higher chance of a guaranteed character, but you weren’t so lucky.

“There’s no hope…” You groaned out, slumping back in your chair as Yuji inches closer to the screen. He eyes the character displayed on it, annoyingly mocking your very state.

“Can I try?” he asks with a wide, toothy smile.

You huffed out a sigh, glancing over back to the screen briefly before back at him. “I only have like… One pull left, but knock yourself out.”

He excitedly moves his body closer, instantly clicking on the character banner you were trying to get and watched the pretty hues of blues and yellows swirl around. Tiny sparkles littered the blackened screen, before—

“Is this a good character?”

Huh? You adjusted your torso once more and sat up to look at the screen to see the desired game character you’ve been wanting to get. This entire time, now gotten from the lucky hands of Yuji.

“Huh?!” you exclaimed loudly, eyes wide at the sight before you. There was no way that he pulled the character you were ogling over— One you spent your hard earned in-game currency on as well as losing every single time.

“I’m guessing he’s good! Judging that reaction of yours—“

“Fuck off,” you said with a distasteful tone, but a wide smile playing on your lips.

________

an; so basic but so cute 🫶

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader

402 notes · View notes

fionarara · 10 months

Text

+ cherry bomb .

+ GOJŌ SATORU x READER .

+ T W ⇾ 18+ only . smut . sugar daddy!gojo . dilf!gojo . f!reader . implied ddlg dynamics . adult age gap (the amount is your interpretation) . aquaphilia aka underwater sex . praise . a bit of a baby bimbo reader so um dacryphilia, no rly, like i’m talking actual tears, yeah . gojou has a dumb joke (or two) . mention of divorce (not yours) and of gojo’s child (also not yours) . slight size kink if you squint . i feel like both flaunted capitalism and vapid self-indulgence needs a tag here ?? we be explorin dark kink of all kinds on this here blog, right? (｡>ω<｡) . reader has a few nicknames . no beta . and lastly, probably goes without saying but daddy kink, i repeat, daddy kink . oyasumi ✌︎ .

+ A N ⇾ um, istg i totally did not mean to post this dilf!gojo on actual father’s day, h-whoa? but the universe just always has my back i swear, an amazing coincidence as i only realized right before posting, and somehow it feels *symbolic* ?? - this is for the sugar daddy collab by @sleepysnk, ty for letting me join last minute summer ♡

+ W C ⇾ circa 5,500

Zz Zz Zz.

Within your skirt a vibration kicks off.

The ringing of a phone tucked into the waistband against your tummy chimes out its soft little tune where you withdraw it to peek at the screen. Flashing vibrantly across its surface reads ‘DD Gojo’, and the smile unveiling on your face shines as brightly as the reflected device in your palm.

From where you stand on the sidewalk in elegant heels, all dolled up for the occasion, the twilight of dusk is visible on the horizon. The vision of picturesque dark multi-colored hues harmonize nicely with the wafting scent of warm pastries and tea in the air nearby, out from the cafe of the luxury shopping center you’ve been waiting in front of: Gojo’s favorite meeting spot. Whereby inevitably, has become yours as well.

A place you have both frequented together before, where he has showered you with many gifts, many times over, treasured in both of your memories. Cherished adventures built here upon wining and dining at the finest restaurants, playing dress up at the shops amongst extravagance, the cavalcade of glittering jewels and lavish garments–all the things you deserve as far as he’s concerned. He is of the belief that whatever you receive should be nothing but the best the world could ever offer, or at least his wallet, he figures.

And since life has been really tough on him lately–divorce is a bitch, the entire ongoing legal process has been one drawn out migraine–you and your overall companionship are so highly prized, not only in his day-to-day, but because of the new glow you’ve supplied his life. Especially during the last several months of regularly seeing one another after the separation from his marriage.

Unabashed in his absolute fondness for you, he has deemed you his little crème de la crème angel.

You pick up the jingling phone in your hand.

Gojo Satoru seems to be in an especially exuberant and silly mood when his voice forces a notable husky tone, answering your greeting with a fun-loving tease, a low murmur on the other end of the call.

“Ring-ding-dong—is baby ready for my dong, sweets?” He finds himself hilarious, goofy, a laugh ripping out of his throat with audacity, clearly and thoroughly enjoying his own terrible joke.

Wow. There’s that classic on-a-whim, lively, larger-than-life bluntness that comes along with Gojo’s Sagittarius energy you have come to know well: he’s innately playful and comedic, fun, loud, has got a charmingly sharp tongue with no filter—it can sometimes come back to bite him in the ass if he’s not careful—and all of that is blanketed by a sort of fiery sense of passion for the things he loves.

The fact remains that his way of being has always been able to find a kind of carefree humor within you, something so inexplicable. He brings out in you a sense of total ease or lightness you weren’t even sure you were capable of. A kind of untapped, unfettered joy no one has ever been able to touch in you before…

So you’re halfway snickering at him now, amused, but with full-blown sarcasm you reply, “Ha–ha, Satoru, you’re so classy…” then you’re truly giggling, “...just shuddup and get over here already.” You try to restrain the crack of a too-wide smile from spreading across your cheeks, but fail, gloriously.

So you give in to it. Deciding to oblige him, you press the mic of the phone closer to your lips with a hand cupped over your mouth, shielding your next spoken words while you avert your head downward in a play of secrecy. It’s almost a whisper when you respond.

“But…yes, I think that…just maybe, I am ready for it. Got it?”

He’s unable to actually see the minxy raise of your brow shown on your face, but the gesture is not lost on him from the tone in your voice. He hears it loud and clear.

“Jeesus, baby, I’m comin’, I’m comin’...”, the subtle rise of anticipation within him giddy and excitable. "Listen, I’m almost there. My GPS says I’m two minutes away.”

Late afternoon air has you rubbing away chilly goosebumps alive on your skin, particularly your upper arms, to bring you warmth. “Ok, good. Please hurry, it’s getting nippy out.”

“Oh?” Here it comes… “Mm, ya better have nipples out…see you soon.” The sound of a bold chuckle is distorted by the phone speaker before it’s cut off by a prompt click. He disconnected the call in that way.

Already, it is your second humored eye-roll of the evening from his cheeky Gojo-behavior and you haven’t even seen him yet.

Your chest is lighter because of it.

The shopping bags in your grasp shift from two hands into one, your free hand thumbing to find the golden credit card Gojo lent you in the pocket of your jacket. Assuring yourself that it’s still there is important.

Over a month ago, he had broken the news of how meetups between the two of you would soon become more of a challenge, due to court and custody hearings surrounding the finalization of his divorce. You’d be spending a considerable amount of time apart, he’d said. It would be longer than usual, by a whole month, and offered to grant you some form of consolation in return. So the very next day, an express-shipped credit card appeared at your doorstep in the fine afternoon with a letter enclosed. In it, he expressed that you were to use it and shop to your little heart’s content. The only deal was that you would hand it back upon the arrival of this date.

The car that pulls up to double park along the curbside beside you is, without a doubt, the most expensive car you will have ever ridden. It’s new. Gojo had mentioned it last week, making the purchase to lift his spirits and also as celebration for the court case he’d won against his ex. They’d granted him equal joint custody of their child. Actually, his final stop prior to fetching you this evening had been dropping off his baby daughter.

The door swings open on its own, remotely controlled by electronics. In view and resting on the front seat is a tatty teddy bear belonging to his child that was forgotten.

“Oops, lemme move that for you.” Somehow the sight of this tiny plush toy in his large hand brings about the sweetest rush in you for him. The stuffed animal is laid to rest onto the back seat where you also note a hollow purple baby bottle leaking a dribble of spilt milk from its nipple and onto the cushion.

Nineties grunge-rock plays soft on the radio when you climb in. The air is filled with a sweet and peppery, woodsy scent, one you recognize immediately–it’s him, his comforting cologne so greatly missed, only making you that much more aware of just how profound the ache has truly been for this moment to be by his side.

Crawling towards him, you pelt your eager arms around his neck, a way that communicates it has felt like an eternity apart. Both of you have a greater sense of it now, from being in the other’s presence. You can hardly keep your exhilaration in check, not with the soft squeals you let loose on his shoulder. For a moment, together you melt, breathing into each other.

It hangs in the air of the moment as you embrace.

The weight of the wait.

He then cradles you deeper, pulling you into an assertive kiss so welcoming, so sloppy with intention, it’s as if he’s blissfully unconcerned with how messy it is because, finally, you’re here. Letting you know it’s been far too long for him when he’s matting your cheeks with numerous pecks and taking in the scent of your hair.

Withdrawing to observe you, his eyes alight with radiance at the full sight of you, your energy. “God, I almost forgot just how stunning you are. Look at you! Just…incredible.”

The praise washes over you and after exchanging a few more greeting words, of how you’ve longed to see each other, he shifts the car gear into drive.

Buildings whip across the dark sunset and late dusk settles in. The spectacle of nightfall on this ride, of the city through the windshield, excites him enough to ignite a sudden curious stir in his pants. Maybe it’s the prospect of what night can bring with you along after so much distance that has his dick twitch at the thought alone.

And with that, his hand is creeping over to your lap. It should be almost comical when you believe for the quickest moment that his approaching hand would be innocent. One only of affection, to caress you, a gentle expression only in missing you…

But consequently, their energy becomes different—turn into those fingers, the kind you know well that are wanting, possessive. And being able to even think another thought is lost on you before he is squeezing at the thickest part of your inner thigh then slipping under your skirt.

“Satoruuu…wait…” you swat his arm with a light tap, dissuading him from getting too distracted. It’s happened once or twice before he’s lost control of the wheel when attempting something as naughty as this, but it is half-hearted when you breathily urge, “…pay…pay attention to the road…”

Not a moment later, out from the speakers the bass booms more loudly, the volume amplifying higher by the second where the music thumps heavy throughout your body. You locate the outlandish crystal-eyed culprit and his thumb pressing the ‘+ volume up’ button on the steering wheel.

Not only does he have the music blasted, but has the gall to flash a cutesy grin of mischief at you, a most sinful and impish face. That expression is followed up with a playful mocking yell, where the holler of his voice competes and cuts through the music.

“HUH, baby?-! WHAT? I can't hear you!” he teases, then carries on anyway with the slide of his fingers between your pressed thighs. It’s difficult for you not to part them a smidge while the electric feel of his three fingers reaches for your clothed cunt. They press flat against your mound at the first touch, then begin to fondle lightly at the grooves of your pussy, tracing the outer shape of it with his fingertips.

Having some restraint here had been your aim, but tonight you seem to be failing plenty at not completely succumbing to his whimsical charm–it's just been so long since you’ve been near him–you’d almost forgotten how magnetic his presence truly is.

Attempting to keep your desire hidden, you try stifling the puff of air that escapes your throat, turning your head away towards the window, but it is futile. On full display to him now is how unable you are to withstand his spellbinding touch, and he’d spotted it. That little starved expression tells Gojo how badly you’re fiending, it has him lowering the radio, the amplitude of the loud song descending and funneling out of the small space, volume all the way down so he can very clearly hear what his defiance has wrought on you.

Listening to your tiny constrained moans sends heat straight through his abdomen. You do not want to be condoning any of this while he’s driving, but unfortunately for your willpower, you act on instinct when you begin pawing desperately at the muscular forearm connected to strong fingers massaging over the wet spot of your panties.

“Yeahh…you like this, huh? Knew it.”

But, in a moment too soon, he is cut off by an abrupt swerve of the car and you gasp.

“Shit–” he grips steadfast onto the wheel, gaining composure of the vehicle.

“...Alright, alright, you were right. Let’s save this.” Punctuating the final word with one reassuring pat down onto your pussy, it's honestly more like a gentle spank.

You’re pouting, but of course you nod, agree, and settle into the electrically warmed seat produced by the suave leather chair, feeling loosened up.

Safety first.

. + .

The door to Gojo’s opulent estate, only a fraction of what sits on a 22-acre property, welcomes you by the greeting of a polished and suited butler. Warm lighting casts down from the expansive ceiling and it’s the first time this evening you’re able to catch a true glimpse of Gojo’s eyes. They look a bit tired, a tad worn from his recent circumstances, but it is truly a wonder how he can make even a light touch of under-eye bags look sexy.

Walking past the foyer toward the candle-lit living room, you extend him your comfort. Wrapping your arm around the bulk of his bicep, the other palm reaches for the hard pec on his chest to rub soothing circles of understanding.

Here you are at long last, approaching the grand sofa, both of you plopping yourselves atop the plush expanse and seamlessly locking on to one another. He relishes in the beautiful body flush against his.

Encircling his waist with your arms, you find it rather cute in taking note that he is marginally plumper around his middle than before, having developed a more modest weight around his butt and love handles. Though abs of steel still ripple his shirt, the overworked dad you hold in your arms seems to have relaxed a little from the recent stress and you are filled with a sudden pride for him.

A light-hearted joke flickers in your mind of his natural ability to take up space from his energy alone anyway–how you admire it, a part of you secretly wishing you could embody more of that in yourself–but mostly in how you appreciate this bigger physical development in him, because it now means there's a little more of him in the world.

“Shall we toast?” he suggests, so he whips you up a nice pink drink while he sips hard gin on the rocks, leaning back, thighs spread open like an empowered slut.

Curiosity then strikes him when the haul of shopping bags sitting on the floor from your spree earlier this evening catches his eye. “Ooo, lemme me take a peek at what you got.” he sits up and nods, face gleaming.

One by one each item is showcased and he is enthralled by every piece, because of course he is—it’s part of why he adores you, chose you, your keen eye and clear level of taste has always been impeccable, distinct and unique, highly attractive.

Then his heart is increasing in size as you confirm, right here, right now, that those aren’t amongst your only positive qualities when you’re showing him you’d also picked up something for him and had been thoughtful enough to do so. An ornate watch is pulled out of a fresh bag by your delicate hands, that then with a snap is on his wrist, handsome as it glints and refracts in the candlelight of the room.

Your body reaches over the littered items on the elaborate rug, clasping the final shopping bag which houses the bikini you had bought for this reunion by his request.

He whistles at it. “Superb. Model it for me, will you, babe?”

You do. Twirl, shimmy, joke with an exaggerated runway catwalk, giggle, then there’s something visible written on his face and you’re able to anticipate what his next move might be.

Gojo had developed a pension for bestowing you with a few cutesy nicknames in the time spent getting to know you. Amongst his favorites and most frequently used is that of ‘cherrybomb’. Must be a fan of The Runaways, you figured, but it truly came about when, almost exclusively, you began wearing rouge-shade lipsticks in his presence. Perhaps you could make yourself seem a little older, you’d hoped, give yourself a closer touch of sophistication in his world by presenting yourself in such a way.

But mostly he’d donned you with the specific moniker because a smattering of the red tends to end up around the lower half of his dick after he's had his way with you, a faint painted crimson over his pelvis near where it meets the shaft.

You’re halfway through striking a faked model pose when he lifts himself off the couch and approaches. With an index finger so sensual, he presses up into the cushion of your ruby lips, holding tight to your gaze, coaxing you with a query, “So, gonna help daddy feel better now, cherrybomb?"

Then, far into the depths of crystalline aqua you swim, deep into the mesmerizing eyes that lock onto yours and you say nothing; nothing except for an exhale of hot moist vapor releasing onto the firm finger that baits you. The slow lick you give it afterward, dragging your tongue up along the column of his digit, landing at the tip, answers any and all of his questions. He can already feel the swell of blood trickling in to fill up his cock.

The time has come for his hand to guide you through another hallway toward the recently completed construction of a large-scale naturesque onsen the size of a massive pool, installed in the outdoor area beyond the sliding doors. Intending to experience it tonight for the first time was on his agenda, professing his desire to christen the new space with you, right before he glides a magnificent lustered glass door to one side, letting you through.

You step into the open atmosphere: water bedazzled by moonlight, submerged light fixtures softly illuminating a mint-aqua azure-blue glow, steam rising thick as fog. A plethora of tall bamboo trees enclose the surrounding space, a waterfall cascades off a giant boulder just around the bend and beneath your feet and everywhere is an assortment of gorgeous stones varying in shapes, sizes and sorts.

Gojo leans into you from behind when you approach the onsen’s outer edge, planting kisses along your neck. A clean tug at the string of your bikini top by his hand has it flopping off your breasts, exposing them to the crisp night air, amongst the sprinkle of stars hanging in the heavens. Bikini bottoms hit your ankles next and he strips completely, down to his boxers, then to nothing at all. Already he’s rock hard, a cock so upright, it seems it could nearly touch his abs.

A large hand links to yours, leading you down into the inviting water.

"God, you’re tiny next to me." He tells you, loving how much his big build towers your frame, admiring your body from behind as you descend into the blue, bare feet hitting each lowered pebbled step.

Submerging into warmth, it cradles you as you dip in. Vapor floats off the lapping surface where your joined bodies bob together in water, all of your limbs wrapped around him. He wastes not another second longer, gripping you impossibly closer, making out with you, ardently; proving himself to be ever the great multitasker with one hand gripped on your asscheek and another kneading at your breast.

Now the sizzling of your skin isn’t from the heated water alone, for beneath the very surface you simmer for him, a robust flame of aching arousal so unbearable it has you trembling. Shaky and flustered by lust, from how strong hands grope every inch of your body, how his tongue intoxicates you as it rolls fluidly against yours, he senses it all—how overcome you are by need—making him groan with a fire in his belly, as do you, too.

Desire has your spine arching. Legs still grasped to his waist, your ass pops backward as far as it will reach, creating easy access for him where he can trace fingertips along the crack of your ass as a guide, down to the ‘X’ which marks the spot of your slick hole.

Two thick fingers dip up, curl inside you, and plumes of oxygen off your light moans release between whimpers. Like your third eye opening, the instant clarity you receive in understanding how these fingers are able to create such powerful sorcery is made evident now, by his digits making literal magic in you as they fuck you filthy beneath the water.

“Missed you like hell.” He murmurs, then you grip tighter, moaning, sucking a quick bruise on his neck.

Yet all too soon, he notes the angle of his wrist is not ideal, nor the slight pushback from the water. All of it provides much resistance for him to thrust into you at the necessary speed that he knows would truly have you unraveling for him.

A light bulb flicks on in his head.

“Turn for me.” He commands, gentle and true.

In favor of getting you back to the onsen steps without letting you lose arousal, he whips your body around, directing your arms to wind behind his neck, your ankles to wrap around his. With your back meeting his chest, exposed nipples sting wet in the cold bite of the air, wading you through the water. His goal to keep that hot coil of desire burning within you also means his own cravings run high right now, to have you squirming on his fingers from this position, knowing where that button can be pressed upon.

“Thaaat’s it, baby, keep it up for me…” He entices, approvingly, an eager hand reaching from around your hip to the front, massaging over your clit in winding motions of expertise. His game is won when your hips begin to stutter, rocking and chasing for more of his touch and he can sense the steady rhythm of your thighs tensing against his.

Soon, your feet hit the stony steps. Placed on a higher level than him, it gives him reason to bend you over as planned, to hike your ass up above the waterline where it collects just around your thighs. It’s there you are instructed to hold steadfast on the edge of the onsen.

“Good, baby. Just like that.”

He reckons it’s his turn to make you pliant and easy access for himself. From where he stands below, waist deep in water, his face is lined with the entirety of your raw nether-region, anxiously awaiting to eat you out from behind.

But first, the sight of you like this is truly something to behold.

Here is a quick moment of pause for Gojo, caught in admiring the beauty of pearlescent vapors casting heat off of every bit of your skin, dancing upward through the shine of moonbeams contrasted against the darkness.

“Mmm.” There’s a tone of carnal wonder—and just a touch of light playfulness—in his humbled voice. “Your pussy is steaming hot, baby. Literally.”

You whine from the unfavorable lack of contact as he purrs his sweet words. Air is blown over your bare steamy cunt by his lips, cooling it down, watching it clench, eyeing heat vapors disperse around it. Then he gingerly pries the petals of your pussy open, lingers in admiration for another moment longer before finally tugging your thighs backward to strike his face onto the wet folds. He impresses a deep open-mouthed kiss onto it, sucking your pussy slow and deep into his mouth, and you snap—out comes your ungodly cry in ecstasy. He makes it sloppy, purposefully a bit disheveled, all wicked slurps and licks of passion, and a huff from his nose hits your asshole in a stimulating sensation.

The taste of the mineral water mixed with the sweet drip of your cunt thoroughly quenches his thirst for this christening.

Light daddy scruff from his lower face can be felt against you as another slow upward lick nearly grazes your anus. He wants to create a plateau of his tongue stretching across the whole of your pussy, so he’s scooping under to search for your clit and press there, toying with the nub for several long languid beats.

That is until he makes a quicker decision to swap it in favor of shoving his fingers inside you and pump them with force from behind. When you thrust back to help his fingers reach deeper, he already misses his face being trapped and pressed to your cunt, so he moves back to slurping your clit too.

Your head falls forward as you crescendo from tiny whimpers into staccato groans, then sensing him pause for the smallest of moments only to catch a breath where you can feel his rapid draw of air.

He is attuned to when your hips begin gyrating harder onto his sucks, it’s a signal you’re close to your finish. So he doubles down, grabbing hold of your sides in a bruising grip, fingertips digging deep into the flesh of your hips where he forces you tighter onto his face. All that’s left to give is a tiny sting of pain to send you reeling and crying out his name, so his large hand cracks down on an asscheek, several filthy slaps, with the swirl of his tongue still on you.

He alternates, working and circling open your tender hole to motioning down onto pulsating clit-sucks in such perfect rhythm, it’s like the epic beat of a hit song—and in an instant, it must be your favorite tune, because now you’re singing out along with it, belting out with a searing vibrant orgasm that courses through you.

Your elbows and knees wobble, near to collapse, but he’s caught you just in time with a slide of his arm underneath your tummy, holding you up with another hand by your outer thigh.

And you feel entirely supported by him, in many more ways than one.

You’re weakened and topple sweetly into the water, flopping backward into his broad chest. He draws in your back from behind, whispering warmth in your ear. “Daddy’s turn.”

The way your cheeks beam in post-glow daze has him tender-hearted. “Aw, my little cherrybomb…” he brushes away clumped strands of hair plastered to your face, “...like how only I can make you feel?”

Being older than you means he’s more experienced. No one other than Gojo has even remotely had you cumming as hard, so you can't deny his accuracy. You’d never dream of denying it anyway.

“Without question, daddy,” a little raspy voice so sincere, your body twirling in the clear blue liquid to face him outright, telling him point blank, “you’re the only one that has the power to make me feel this good.” Nearly sung like a lullaby off your tongue, you stare up at him with the most earnest eyes.

The sweet innocence of your praise is so astounding it raises his eyelids to widen so greatly until the appearance of the moon’s reflection fully shines in his eyes ; a genuine response to your unwavering devotion. Then it’s gone in a flash, because his eyelids shut when he’s peppering a line of kisses over your forehead and his dick is forcibly throbbing against you.

“Mhm yeah, you feel that?” He sucks on your earlobe, it’s still between lips as his whisper vibrates on the sensitive skin. “Want you bad. Help your daddy out now."

It’s nearly impossible to contain yourself when the all consuming thought and need in this moment is his grown cock in your hand, to supply him with anything and everything that would satisfy him, service him with the utmost amount of pleasure possible it’s as though he would never again know of pain.

Plunging forward and splashing further into the water, you hurl yourself onto him, a hand wrapped around his cock, an arm thrown around his nape. You pull him into another session of sucking one another’s faces, feverish mouths echoing moans into each other while you fist him below the water.

Gradually, the motion pushes him further and further backward until his spine hits an eventual rocky wall, arms-length away from the flow of the waterfall.

Gojo hauls you up by your thighs to wrap over his hips, simply wanting you to feel how hard he is from the outside, skin against skin, tenderly outlining the full protruding length of himself over your folds. Teasing between velvety lips, he’s grinning at how much of your slick can be felt through the water as he rhythmically runs his hard cock to bump up against your clit. Pleasure erupts through you with uncontrollable shuddering, from the remembrance of how unbelievable it could be just to have Gojo rubbing over you, the rush of the hazy memory all comes flooding back to you now.

Your head cannot withstand its own weight any longer, dropping dead into his fragrant shoulder, the scent of his neck driving you to delirium, inducing an almost intolerable desire for him.

“Enjoying yourself?” He chimes, but you are barely able to muffle out an agreement with your mouth muted against his skin. The best you can give is a tiny nod and it feels you’ve mildly blacked-out behind closed lids. “Tell me how much you need it.” He commands.

“I-I…” you start, but it dies in your throat, “...I...I–”

“Come on, baby,” he coos, a little smug, a bit more pride in his request, “I wanna hear it.”

You're at a loss, struggling to form coherent sentences, already helplessly weak from his cock and it's not even inside of you yet.

“...so...s-so bad, please…I–”

A wordless understanding soon emanates between you both, suspended in the air surrounding you. It’s a palpable exchange of etheric empathy. He understands–identifies, since you have never spent this much time apart before and seeping into the gravity of that is also beginning to make him feel dizzied. “That's it…that’s it…you can do it, sweets, you can tell me...” He rocks his taunting hips, hypnotizing your needy hole from the outside with the prodding head of his cock as you try once more to formulate a sensical sentence.

“D-don't think…I've ever…wanted anything–so badly–I-I–”

The more you babble, the harder he throbs.

“Daddy, I just–!” You feel actual tears starting to well up in your eyes, “–missed you so much-!”

An unexpected pang in your chest induces a flood of tears from your lower lash line. It’s only obvious to you now that you’ve been harboring this specific avoided emotion for a while, possibly even weeks. Trying to keep “strong”, convincing yourself you’ve been fine, or shoving down anything that would surface from within you about making the distance a bigger deal than you thought it ought to be.

Feeling so foolish, naive, to be crying with a mix of anguished pleasure for him, you lightly choke on your resistance to all of it, but without any ability to stop it.

He slows, then halts to observe your face, detecting the moisture below your eyes. It catches him by surprise. Concerned for you, he speaks with care.

“Aww, angelll…”

A tear streams down your cheek where he stops it with his lips, kissing it away, and Gojo feels his cock swell harder.

Undeniably horny by your undeniable ache for him.

A hand swipes over your face, shushing you to calm. “Shh…that's alright, okay baby, shh, you did good–so good speaking up for me–letting me know how much you want me…” soothing tingles by gentle scratches of his hands along your back quell you, “...re-laaa-x…shh…that was good enough for me now.”

Your cheeks are burning, born out of the pit of stupidity you feel as it pools in your stomach. Yet still, you continue to tear up, subtle quivering comes in waves over your body and has him offering you more words of comfort.

“...Nnnm…I missed you too, hey, hey–” he cups your face, making sure you’re truly hearing him. “–I did too, I really did…I know, baby, I know…” since you’re already crying, he might as well give you a better reason to, in the only way he knows to make it better, “...missed you somethin fierce…here–lemme show you how much. Come’ere–”

Lining up with your drenched hole, he guides you down onto the smooth stretch of his thick cock and your breath constricts. It has your face contorting from the dizzying nature of it all, denting your nails into his broad back. Gojo’s glimmering eyes connect with yours, reflecting back a shared intensity. Your gazes mirror one another as two pairs of eyelids are drooping together in unison, carefully examining each other’s faces as you adjust to him and he finally bottoms out inside you. But he grants you mere moments before the overwhelming thirst for you is far too irresistible to bear any longer.

He surrenders to the will of his body as if possessed, chasing more of the sweet suck of your cunt in every thrust and now you’re crying from something else entirely. Strong, effortless, determined pumps of his length drive into your core, the way he knows you’ll always end up begging for, although now, no longer does he want to ask that of you.

In this instance, his sole purpose becomes your unspoken bliss, to anticipate your desires without you needing to word them, yearning to spare you any further trace of strain or exertion. He intends to allow you the full sensation of simply craving his strong presence, pistoning into you, to let you relinquish control, entrusting him to tend to every remaining detail of your pleasure.

“Does this make you happier, baby? Hm?” Still carrying you, he turns a 180, switching spots to push your back against the flat rocky surface and ram you up against the wall. “Does it? H-huh? Ngh. Does it make you ha-happy?”

The splishing of the waterfall and his fierce rhythmic grunts are the only sounds filling your ears. You nearly match the waterfall as more tears spill and that’s when you’re sure he doesn’t require a verbal reply. The confirmation of your entire body responding to him renders sufficient, like how your fingers instinctively entwine with his hair, gentle tugs at snowy locks for extra support, you then give a few wobbled nods.

But now he needs a little more support and leverage, gearing up for that one ideal angle in you.

Hanging low and tilted just overhead, rests a bamboo tree. Reaching that one sweet gummy spot inside of you will mean reaching one of his arms up to grab hold of it. Gojo steadily raises both of your connected bodies so both waists together are just a hair above the waterline. He is up on his toes, tight grip on the bamboo culm, when he pounds you to perfection, deep and generous, positively wrecking you ‘till you’re wailing from your finish in blinding satisfaction.

And daddy fucks you raw into the night, again and again, through to the edge of dawn; then later on, when the birds begin to chirp and you are fully spent in his bed – so fucking cute when you’re fast asleep – Gojo realizes he won’t ever grow tired of the faint traces of cherry smeared across his pillows.

. + .

+ link2masterlist .

753 notes · View notes

mehidktbh · 1 year

Text

I've Got My Eye On You

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: After one incident of fainting while training. Your Lieutenant takes the role of keeping you fed and hydrated.

Warning: Swearing, war/military stuff, ED-related symptoms (??), fainting and passing out, guns, Ghost flirts with you... which includes pet names 👀 and training (punching/fighting)

A/N: Finally got my mac book working and fixed after waiting a whole 5 months, istg it's always Apple...

Taglist: @fatedeniedhope

You stand there watching the brutal nasty fight happen in front of your eyes, watching as two men go up against each other. The grunting can be heard amongst the cheering of other soldiers. Studying their tactics and every move as they attempt to knock the other person down, hands flying with forceful punches and hard kicks as one man finally gets pinned. Someone shouting next to you as he tries to motivate the fallen soldier to get up, his voice falls deaf to his ears as he taps out.

"Alright!" The two men head back to the line of soldiers who stand up proud and tall, listening to the yelling drill Sargent. "I want Y/N and Jet up front!" You snap out of your thoughts when someone pats your back, indicating for you to step up. Your vision is unsettled and you can feel the whole world spinning, you take your stand, knuckles clenched and legs tensed.

Staring directly at the man in front as he holds the same starting position. Through the split second, you hear the whistle blow as he begins to circle you slowly, his mind set on only beating you as he starts to wonder why you stand so weak. You continue to stumble around, trying to copy his feet as they overlap each other moving around you.

Your ears block out the yelling and the screams which your team urges you on. It all becomes too much when your drill Sargent spits his voice at you, forcing you to get in there more. But it falls deaf to your ears, the underwhelming pressure and heat are all too much, you watch in confusion as the guy across you looks at you with concern. But there's nothing to say as you stumble over, tripping over your godman leg before you plough straight into the ground. There's not much to see or hear as the sun is blocked from your eyes, you're met with the blurry vision of Price as he mouths something off to the drill Sargent.

But that was months ago and now you feel stupid for letting yourself get that low. There's that worry that hangs over the rest of your task force as they still ask you questions about that day. But never your Lieutenant as he instead worries in his own (special) way...

♡ ♡ ♡

There's a little knock on your door, harsh but not too hard you jump out of your skin, soft enough to know it's your Lieutenant. "Come in," You say not looking up from your desk as you continue to work, the endless paperwork won't do itself. "How are you doing...?" He seems a bit awkward when asking that question like he normally doesn't ask people how they're doing.

"I'm alright, need something?" You question turning around in your seat to find him sitting next to you on your cot, surprised at how he moved so fast. "I know you haven't eaten so I brought something." He roughly said, your eyes glistening with the urge to instantly rip open the grey plastic bag. You can nearly see a box of some sort sitting perfectly there, a neat knot tied together on top to keep the surprise inside.

You drop the pen and your mind from doing the paperwork, turning away from the pile of mess and instead facing Ghost as he begins to open the plastic bag. "You didn't have to." You say shyly, seeming appreciative as he shakes his head in return, "No. You need to eat, Y/N." You don't say anything and instead, just nod your head in appreciation and also agreeing with him in some way. Stalking his movements as he carefully takes the food out of the bag. His eyes catch your hungry craved eyes, a smirk hidden behind his mask.

♡ ♡ ♡

Looking down at the cards you sigh again, "Got nothing." "Ha! Ace and ten," Soap said cheerfully after beating you for the tenth time tonight. But you would never say that you were never in the game from the start, despite Soap explaining the game you had no fucking idea how to play.

"Give it'ere." Price said, catching the cards as Soap threw the pack to him, his hands instantly got to shuffling the deck. Gaz sat next to you on the floor as Price sat in front of him, Soap sitting in front of you. A perfect circular Arrangement with everyone's attention on Price as he shuffled the cards in the same movement and technique as he's been doing for years.

Through your eyes averted to Ghost in the corner of the room, his body leaning on the wall as he guards the window, his eyes scanning the premier. So you decide to walk over, let your Lieutenant take a break and play some cards. After such a rough day with Gaz nearly getting shot in his shpulder the team decided to camp out fpor the night.

Letting all the adrenaline you guys felt before melting into the floor and walls of this small dingy 'safe house'. "I got it, sir." Ghost looks over at you, your smile is reassuring but after a day like today, he seemed like the only one who still wasn't relaxed. He nods after a second of staring at you, picking his gun up from leaning on the wall but he stops right before his elbow touches yours.

"Had any water today?" You hum quietly, not looking back before you take over his leaning position on the wall but he still stood there. After a bunch of shuffling in which you thought was Price with his cards a cold water bottle touched your arm. Ghost stood there arm reached out as he nudged you on, signalling for you to take the bottle.

"I'm alright-" "Take it." Your eyes flicked between the bottle and his piercing eyes, fuck you could feel how much he was persuading you. "That's an order, Y/N." You sigh, rolling your eyes slightly as you take the bottle from his hand, he continues to watch you gulp the cold refreshing liquid down. His hand pushing up in a motion as he signalled for you to continue drinking when your lips were about to leave.

But after a while, he was satisfied, nodding his head when you could finally pull away. You were about to hum back thanks before he spoke slowly, the last word came out deathly quietly as you couldn't understand what he had just said.

"Good, girl..."

1K notes · View notes

wineauntie · 1 month

Text

ONLY ANGEL – Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

next part. series masterlist.

summary: You are an Angel, at least Quinn seems to be convinced so.

note: I’m so hyped for this series istg 🙏

warnings: MDNI, use of y/n, fem!reader, name Layla used (change if your name), alcohol, suggestive content but nothing major.

word count: 2.9k+

Any and all feedback welcomed <3

Quinn Hughes was wound up tight. He'd been working himself to the point of depletion over the past few weeks, immersing himself completely in hockey to the point where Petey had to intervene. He got like that from time to time. He remembered being a kid and being so obsessed with the game that he'd dream of plays and wake up only to run them.

It was a constant cycle that drained him but he wouldn't have it any other way.

The Canucks had played well tonight, winning 3-1, but the game had been tough and resulted in various injuries for multiple players. Quinn was exhausted, but he allowed Petey to drag him out with a few other guys to let loose a little. They had a solid seven days without a single match to play, it was practically written in the stars.

It was a small enough bar, the one that they had chosen, with a live band and neon red lights plastering the walls. The group had been situated in a booth just off to the left of the bar counter, partially hidden by a pillar. Quinn sipped his first, frigid beer of the night as the guys around him laughed and joked, all of them, one or two bottles into their endeavours. His eyes scanned the room as he drank, drinking in the crowd of people shuffling in and around the bar, collecting their drinks and talking.

Quinn always liked this part of life– the observation part, that is. He liked to watch people as they went around doing their own little things, oblivious to other happenings in another area. It was fun to jump his gaze between the hen party singing loudly with an entire bottle of Sambuca in hand and the two, jacked-up bikers in all leather playing a vicious game of darts in the far corner.

He allows his eyes to jump again, and suddenly the world stills. Now, Quinn isn't one to believe that the world could ever fall silent, but sitting in this booth, in a downtown bar with the constant waft of alcohol, the world completely quietens.

Everything ceased to exist at that very moment…everything but you.

Seemingly, you were smiling at some noiseless joke your friend was making, your finger moving your straw around your half-finished glass as the lights around you, bathed you in red. It bounced off of your hair and skin, reflecting in your shining eyes. Quinn shifted in his seat, his eyes still locked on your oblivious self as his mouth parted ever so carefully.

You were an Angel, he decided. You had to be. No one had ever captured his attention quite like you had, and captured would perhaps be the wrong word. You had completely and utterly debilitated him to the point where his only thought was to approach you and get to know you. He watched as you threw your head back with another carefree laugh, lifting your drink to finish it before your eyes levelled and ran across the patrons of the bar.

And then they landed on Quinn.

Quinn clutched his drink so tightly, that he thought it might break under the pressure. Your inquisitive eyes shone despite the darkness, searching his own lingering pair whilst your lips curled into a small, shy smile before you averted your gaze back to your friend. Quinn let out a breath, one he had been holding in fear of disturbing whatever dream-like state he must've been in.

He felt an elbow to his side, instantly jerking his head towards a concerned Petey, who seemed to be studying him. Quinn cleared his throat and gulped down his drink under his friend's watchful eyes.

"Are you alright?" Petey carefully asked as Quinn placed the empty bottle on the table. "You zoned out for a minute or so…"

A minute or so? Only a minute or so?

Quinn felt like he'd spent years beneath the soft light of your gaze. He felt like he could spend a thousand more beneath it had Petey not startled him.

"Yeah, I'm good, man," Quinn eventually spoke, his eyes flitting toward you. "I think I'm going to go get another drink." He stood and turned to the table. "Another round?"

The guys of the team cheered loudly, barely drawing any attention to them with their cheers blending perfectly in with the bar's upbeat ambience. Quinn made his way through the brewing crowd until he finally reached the sticky countertop. His eyes drifted to you every few moments, he probably looked like a creep…oh god, he definitely looked like a creep.

Quinn squirmed slightly and forced himself to look down at the bar counter. He took a few deep breaths in and when the staff came over to ask for his drinks he bought the round for the table and also another round of whatever you and your friends had been drinking. As the drinks were placed in front of him, he began to carry them back to the table, making various trips, unable to manage them all in one go.

However, by the time he returned to the bar to grab the last few drinks, he faltered in his steps, spotting you waiting where he once had stood.

You tucked your hair behind your ear as you listened to your best friend, Layla describe her recent late-night escapades. She'd been on a business trip across the US for the past two weeks and the two of you were due a major debrief.

"Oh, y/n, it was mortifying!" Layla groaned as you chuckled, "I had to rush the guy to the ER!" She took a long swig of her drink before pouting. "I broke his penis, stop laughing!"

This caused you to laugh harder, your head tipping back as your body shook with glee.

"I can't believe you!" You gasped between laughs, one of your hands settling on Layla's as she grumbled whilst the other lifted your drink to your lips, finishing off the remaining liquid. "I knew you were a heartbreaker I just didn't think you'd ever go as far as dick-breaker."

"The worst part is I never even got to finish," Layla commented sadly, her head swivelling around the bar mindlessly. There was a slight pause before she turned back to you. "Oh my…wait, y/n, cute guy staring at you."

You found your hand placing your empty glass down as you continued to look straight at Layla.

"Seriously?" You asked curiously, for all you knew this cute guy was a joke, Layla's been trying to convince you to get laid all month.

"Yes!" Layla hissed, eyes wide as you searched for any signs of a lie. "Look to the right…my right, just at the edge, just to the side of the pillar."

You hummed and pretended to gaze around the bar before you found whom Layla had been talking about. She was right, he had been staring at you…in fact, he still was. Your breath caught in your throat as you surveyed him, taking in his deep eyes and rugged appearance.

Layla was lying. He wasn't just a 'cute guy', he was breathtaking in a way you couldn't even begin to explain. His hair was slightly tousled, his face still and careful as you relished the sight of him. There was something so surreal about him, perhaps, it was the way the lights cascaded over his slightly curled hair or the way he stood out amongst the various other men surrounding you. He was like a lighthouse in the dark, a shining beacon of something…of anything, the possibilities seemed endless. A small smile tugged at your lips before you bashfully turned back to Layla, who held the world's most meddling grin you've ever witnessed.

"You're getting laid tonight," Layla sung rather decisively as her grin remained plastered across her face.

And for just this once, you hadn't argued with her.

It's not like you were a virgin or practised abstinence, you just could never find time to get out and meet people, and that tended to be a huge part of actually, you know, sleeping with them.

You let your eyes drift over in his direction once again, this time catching a glimpse of him ordering drinks at the other side of the bar, not sparing you a single glance. You sighed, your face pulling down as you looked at your hands.

It had been too good to be true.

"Hey, hey, hey," Layla softly chided from where she watched the whole scene. "No being sad allowed, tonight is for fun, don't let that idiot bring you down."

"–And two more drinks for you two," the bartender drawled, sliding across two fresh drinks.

"We didn't order these," Layla scrunched her eyebrows together as the two of you exchanged questioning looks.

"Courtesy of the man in the corner," the bartender huffed before moving on to the next order. Your eyes were wide in shock as you looked towards the man who was now carrying a few bottles of beer back to his table.

"Okay, now you have to go over," Layla gawked, her hands latching around her new drink. "Hot and a gentleman? Go get him and get laid!"

You bit your lip, your eyes drawing towards the man once more before you nodded and picked up the drink.

"I think I'm going to go say thank you," you started, a sudden confidence filling you as you slid off of the bar stool you had been perched on. Layla whistled and clapped, her mischievous grin unwavering as you wove through the crowd. You managed to eventually make your way to where the man had once been standing. There were two beers left standing and silently you thanked any higher force of power that you hadn't missed your opportunity.

You heard someone clear their throat despite the loudness of the room causing you to glance back, only to spot the mystery man looking right back at you.

"Oh, sorry!" You apologised moving out of his way.

"Don't be,"

His voice.

Oh, his voice.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks as he stood beside you, leaning on the bar top, mimicking your stance.

"I just came to say thank you," you explained, your eyes locked on his as he listened to your every word. Now that you were closer you could admire the depth of his eyes much better, you couldn't complain. "…for the drink, I mean."

The man let a small smile quirk up as you gestured to the bar in explanation. "No need to thank me," he replied, his voice smooth like velvet, sending delicious shivers down your spine. His words sent a surge of warmth coursing through your veins as you ducked your head.

"Thank you anyway," you murmured, unable to tear your gaze away from his. The electricity in the air crackled with anticipation, the world around you fading into insignificance as you stood locked in the moment. "I'm y/n, by the way." You stuck out your hand between the two of you, your eyes never leaving his.

"Quinn," he supplied, shaking your hand gently, his thumb caressing your skin as he did so. You gulped as you glanced down at the gesture before returning to his watchful eyes- the eyes you found yourself adoring more and more.

"It's nice to meet you, Quinn," you replied, a hint of breathlessness creeping into your voice as you felt the heat of his hand against yours. The world around you seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of anticipation.

Quinn's smile widened, his eyes twinkling with a playful glint as he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours. "The pleasure is all mine, y/n," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

He said your name in a way you imagined someone worshipping another. It was a growl both pleading and deep, urging your senses to go haywire.

You chuckled nervously, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you at his words. "Anyways, I appreciate the drinks," you added, a grateful smile playing on your lips as you glanced around the bar. "It's been a rough week, and it's nice to let loose for a change."

Quinn nodded understandingly, his eyes softening as he listened to you speak. "I know what you mean," he replied, his voice gentle as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. "Sometimes, all you need is a night to take your mind off things, a distraction."

You hummed in agreement, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you at his understanding. There was something about Quinn that put you at ease, something genuine and comforting that drew you to him like a magnet.

"Is that what you want then?" You asked, courage swimming through you as you dared to tread along the gap between safety and rejection. "A night to take your mind off things?"

Quinn's gaze darkened slightly, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours in the space between you.

"Maybe," he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. "But I have a feeling that spending the night with you would be anything but a distraction."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks as you met his intense gaze. There was no denying the magnetic pull between you, the undeniable tension that crackled in the air like electricity.

"Are you suggesting…?" you trailed off, your voice barely above a whisper as you dared to voice the unspoken desire that hung between you.

Quinn's lips curled into a smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he closed the distance between you, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back, drawing you in closer.

"I'm suggesting that we take this somewhere a little more private," he murmured, his voice sending a surge of desire coursing through you. "Somewhere we can really get to know each other."

You swallowed hard, feeling a rush of anticipation flood through you at his words. There was something undeniably thrilling about the prospect of being alone with Quinn, of exploring the depths of desire that simmered between you.

You glanced back at Layla with wide eyes pointing towards the door as she gave you the widest smile and biggest thumbs up.

Without another word, you turned back to the man and nodded, your heart thumping against your chest as you let Quinn lead you out of the bar and into the cool night.

Quinn hadn't even told the guys he was leaving, his sole focus was you and your lip between your teeth as he guided you towards his car that he had originally intended to leave in its spot overnight.

The two of you had remained connected by your hands even when you stumbled on the curbside, flinging you further into Quinn's arms. His hands steadied you, caging you to his body. His deep gaze held yours as you lifted your head, apologies dying in your throat at the lust rising in Quinn's eyes. His hand moved to rest on the small of your back and drew you closer until there was barely a breath of space between you.

You took a sharp breath in as your noses brushed each other, your eyes fluttering as your hands lingered on his biceps.

"I've been wanting to do this since the moment I saw you," he confessed softly, his words sending a jolt of anticipation coursing through you. "Can I?"

You could feel the heat of his breath against your lips, sending jolts of excitement through you. Without a word, you leaned in, closing the distance between you as your lips met in a kiss. Your lips met his in a fierce collision, igniting a firestorm of desire that burned hot and wild. Each touch was electric, sending sparks dancing across your skin as the two of you melted into each other's embrace.

With a hunger that bordered on desperation, you felt Quinn run his tongue over the seal of your lips, seeking permission to explore. He held onto you so tight as if scared you would slip from his grasp. Your bodies pressed together, fitting perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle, with your hands roaming greedily, tracing every curve and contour, leaving fire trails in their wake.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment, consumed by the flames of your desire. Nothing else mattered but the heat of the connection, the overwhelming need to be close, to touch, to taste.

Quinn and you found yourselves lost in a daze, your breaths mingling in the charged air between you. With a soft smile, he retreated, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch gentle yet filled with a rough and unspoken promise.

Quinn's demeanour shifted upon moving his hand to run his thumb over your swollen lips, his eyes darkening as a low, primal growl rumbled in his chest.

"We're not finished yet," his head tilted downward to face you, his voice husky with need. You felt a smile spread across your face, trying to hide your budding glee at his words.

"I think you need to take me back to your place," you agreed, pressing another searing kiss to his lips before pulling back slightly, moving your head so that your lips grazed the shell of his ear. "To finish, of course."

#wineauntie #nhl x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes #vancouver canucks #kiwi – wineauntie #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fanfic #hughes brothers x reader #hughes brothers x y/n

371 notes · View notes

alaskasmonsters · 1 year

Text

𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 (michael kaiser)

pairing: michael kaiser x gn!reader

contents: flirting, foreign language (german), teasing, petnames, enemies to lovers, mistaking attraction for hatred, reader has anger issues

w/c: 2.486 (istg this was meant to be short,,,)

summary: kaiser is infuriating. there is just something about him that made your blood boil. and when the boy started teasing you in german, knowing damn well you had no idea what he was saying you could only imagine what type of things he was saying about you.

a/n: oh look it’s my favourite trope. mistaking attraction for hatred. <3 kaiser speaks german in this one because *looks at hand* i do what i want :)) you’ll find the translations for what he says at the bottom of the post. they are pulled from my own brain (this is me trying to say i am in fact fluent in german shshshhs) also writing some of kaiser’s lines made me cringe bdhdh ngl he thinks he’s so hot 🙄🙄 and he is also the title is lowkey highkey misleading hahaha

Kaiser got under your skin like no one else did. He always had that particular skill. No matter what he did, no matter what he said, the boy infuriated you to no end.

Everything about him down to his stupid smirk, his playful tone, his insufferable confidence and sometimes even just the way he would look at you… there was nothing in the world that managed to rile you up as much as being stuck in the same room as that boy.

Unfortunately, this was something that happened quite often. Kaiser and you being forced upon each other, like the universe was playing some twisted game, waiting to see who of you would break first and go at each other’s throat.

And you were pretty sure you were losing.

If getting the chance to choke Kaiser could be classified as a loss, that was. Maybe it would be a blessing. Maybe you shouldn’t look a gifted horse in the mouth. Maybe you should just wipe that arrogant smirk off his smug face forever and call it a day. Then you’d be rid of the pest called Michael Kaiser.

The boy who managed to bring out the ugliest side of you. An angry side, a spiteful side, a childish side. A side you did not like about yourself. A side you’d rather ignore, push deep deep down to the depths of your subconsciousness and never let see the light of day again.

You had no idea what you did to deserve this. Why the universe decided to punish you specifically was beyond your comprehension. Haven’t you always been an upstanding citizen? Haven’t you always tried your best to not be an asshole, to not let your anger get the best of you? And yet, and yet, here you were once again, standing in front of Kaiser, who was regarding you with one of his trademark smirks, while you were struggling to keep your cool.

The boy knew exactly how to push your buttons and he never held back. No, he seemed to bathe in your attention, all satisfied smirks and gleaming eyes, and your anger only spurring him on in his mission to be the most infuriating man on the planet.

You didn’t even know who started it this time but you were blaming Kaiser anyway. After all he was usually the one breaking the unspoken rule that was put in place for the two of you that said you were not allowed to interact. Because of how little you got along you were also advised to avoid each other as much as possible.

Regardless of who was the initiator today, it didn’t matter. The damage was already done. The “damage” being you, standing here, chest swirling with burning hot anger and Kaiser, who had nothing better to do than make it worse.

Like fucking always.

You hated Kaiser, and most days you were sure he hated you, too. Still, it was always you who got upset with him and it was always he who liked to make a joke out of the whole situation. Probably because he knew it would only infuriate you more.

The boy loved pushing your buttons.

“Weißt du, du bist echt süß,” Kaiser purred, tilting his head to the side as he regarded you, “Einfach zum Anbeißen.”

You frowned, jaw clenching in irritation as you glared at his smug face, the mocking tone of his voice not going past you.

Even when he was speaking another language. Despite knowing full well you couldn’t understand him and that you hated it. He loved it, though. Speaking German when you were already angry, knowing it only made it worse.

Whatever insults he spout at you or names he called you in the other language, with a fake smile in place, you couldn’t possibly know. But you expected the worst.

“Michael,” you warned.

His eyebrow ticked up at the usage of his first name.

That was only a small triumph. He preferred being called by his last name, especially by you. He was a weirdo who got off being addressed with the title of an emperor, and you weren’t an exception. You knew it made his skin buzz, could see it in the way he’d lit up.

Kaiser nodded, seemingly to himself as he leaned his shoulder against one of the lockers of the dressing room. Why you were even in here was beyond you. Maybe today was the day of bad decisions.

“Und dann ist es noch so einfach, dich sauer zu machen, fast schon witzig,” he continued, not dropping his smirk.

His eyes narrowed at you mockingly, hands pushed deep into his pants pockets. He seemed to look relaxed but you knew he was watching you like a hawk, waiting for what you’d do next. If you’d leave, like you did many times, storm out and slam the door shut behind you or if you’d talk back, something you often couldn’t resist either.

Your jaw ticked. Knowing that Kaiser was well aware of how easy you were to anger and provoking you anyways was something that got your blood boiling like nothing else. Your heart was already thumping wildly in your chest, the sound of it rushing to your ears. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins, spurting you to act, to run or to argue or maybe to punch him. And worst of all, you could already feel the onset of shivers.

It was such a nasty betrayal of your body.

Whenever you got upset, you started shaking. It was most likely the adrenaline but if driven to a certain point of anger it’s something you couldn’t help. Your hands and your shoulders and your legs would start shaking and you’d stand there looking like a stupid chihuahua — at least Kaiser loved to compare you to one of those.

He loved to make fun of you for it. He loved to make fun of you for a lot of things…

Your body moved before you could think.

“You’re a fucking jerk,” you hissed, stepping closer until you were stood right in front of him and digging your finger into his chest.

Kaiser didn’t appear appalled or the slightest bit worried about your trembling form. His grin was sharp, eyes narrowed with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Your anger, like so often, only seemed to spur him on.

He leant forward, pushing off the wall, weight against your finger on his chest increasing as he came face to face with you. Before you knew it his hand was on your face. His fingers found your chin, pointer finger gently lifting it as his thumbs graced your cheeks.

You froze, heart skipping a beat in disbelief at the audacity of this man. Your face flushed, you could feel the anger in your cheeks now.

“Wenn du meinst, Schatz,” Kaiser mused, emphasizing the last word and leant closer, your noses barely a breath apart.

Your hands tightened into fists by your side. You should move. You should push him away, maybe slap him while you were at it but you found yourself frozen, completely shocked by the intrusion of personal space. That was unfair. He couldn’t do that when you were angry.

Wait, no! He couldn’t do that at all!

Kaiser hummed, watching the conflict wash across your face with interest, lifting your chin up higher and dipping his head lower.

That was the moment your brain decided to bid its goodbye, your brain cells frying with its departure.

You had no idea what was happening. Whether Kaiser had just seen something on your face and gracefully decided to take it upon himself to remove it with his lips, or if he had finally thrown his last bit of dignity out of the window and was planning to bite you.

Which didn’t make much sense, because out of the two of you you were certainly the one struggling to keep yourself from being violent with him. He had never even come close, unless he was as good at hiding it as you would like to hope you were.

Kaiser’s face was still moving closer.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you realized what the only logical follow up to this action was and you stopped, not moving away when you easily could have, waiting for Kaiser to seal your lips with his.

But before it could come to that Kaiser stopped, waiting a moment, before drawing back, observing you out of hooded eyes and taking in your…whatever expression you must be making that moment.

If you had to guess it was probably similar to whatever a crashing Windows would be looking like.

“You look like you really want this ‘jerk’ to kiss you, though,” he murmured, still only centimeters away from your lips.

Before you could decide to do anything, like actually push him away or maybe pull him closer or any other insane thing, Kaiser giggled, fucking giggled, before pulling back. He didn’t withdraw without planting a kiss against your forehead, though, making you flinch.

What the-

You gaped at him, blinking. Then you realized what just happened.

You had almost let Kaiser kiss you.

You. had. almost. let. Kaiser. kiss. you.

You had almost let Kaiser kiss you!

No, wait, this wasn’t even all there was.

Kaiser had almost kissed you!

Kaiser, the most infuriating man on the planet, the asshole that got off on fighting with you, had almost kissed you. No, he did kiss you! On the forehead. He had planted his lips there, acting like it was the most normal thing in the world. Which it wasn’t!

Who even did that? Who kissed their…their…enemy anywhere?

Your hand touched the space above your brows his lips had touched, as you stared at him. He gave you a challenging look.

“You’re….you’re so? You’re unbelievable!” You stuttered, completely out of your depth.

The both of you had entered new territory with this action of his and you had no idea how to act.

“Oh? Am I?” he asked unconcerned.

You glared at him, raising your finger then changed your mind. Instead you turned around and started stomping towards the door. You could not be dealing with this right now.

You simply refused.

Kaiser chuckled, snatching your wrist. “Come on, don’t be like that. If you wanted me to kiss you you should have just said so.”

You clenched your jaw, somehow managed to talk yourself out of actually hitting him and instead only ripped your wrist from his grip.

“I didn’t !”

“Mh?”

“I didn’t want you to kiss me, you asshole,” you bit out, turning to look back at him over your shoulder, face lowered and eyes narrowed to give him your best glare.

Kaiser looked unimpressed.

“Is that so?” He tilted his head to the side, grin cheeky.

“Oh now you can speak a language I understand,” you growled, winning the inner fight against your voice of reason and facing him again.

“Magst du es nicht, wenn ich deutsch für dich spreche?” He feigned hurt, placing his hand over his heart. “Das verletzt mich echt.”

You wanted to bury your face in your hands and scream. But you didn’t. Because you were strong. So, so strong. And so brave about it.

“You know I hate that. Stop being so fucking infuriating.”

He snickered. “Why are you even so mad at me all the time?“

“Because you’re infuriating!” You deadpanned.

“And yet you find me irresistible.”

“Irresistible not to beat up.”

“How crude.”

“Shut up, already?”

With every moment the urge to wipe that self-satisfied grin from his face became stronger and with it your resolve to hold back slowly started to crumble.

Kaiser seemed to notice. Just like a shark who smelt blood he could always detect your weaknesses.

“Or what?” The challenged, stepping closer, voice lowering into a murmur, “You know, if you don’t stop being so rude I might actually have to kiss you to shut you up.”

You gaped at him, trying to step back and gain more distance between you when he took another step forward but your feet were rooted to the spot.

Was it really so easy to catch you off guard? Was Kaiser really capable of reducing you to such a mess with the threat of a kiss?

The boy laughed softly, enjoying whatever expression you must be making with your face right now. Maybe this time it was similar to a cornered animal.

“I said shut up,” you repeated, but your words had lost their heat and your face wasn’t just flushed from anger anymore.

A few moments ago you had fantasized of punching Kaiser in the face, and now…now he was saying those confusing things like they had been on his mind for a while now and you were unable to shift your focus anywhere but his slowly approaching lips.

Why did he even think of kissing you? You hated him. He hated you. What kind of fucked up game was this?

Kaiser bent forward again, suddenly directly in front of your face. How he had managed to get so close again was a mystery to you.

“Make me,” he murmured, a challenge visible in his eye.

You snarled, your anger finally taking the upper hand as your arm shot forward, fingers burying themselves in the fabric of Kaiser’s collar. You considered pushing him away, forcing him to give you space. Instead, and for no reason you were able to understand you pulled, yanking him down. Then you pressed your lips to his.

Kaiser‘s mouth felt warm against yours, lips both chapped and soft, the hand now on your waist firm. He pulled you closer, returning the kiss with fierce

You shouldn‘t question this. Not right now…maybe never. Yeah, never was probably for the best.

“Maybe you don’t hate me as much as you pretend you do,” Kaiser hummed against your lips.

The words managed to bring you back to your senses. At least partly. At least enough for you to realize what you were doing. And what you were doing was kissing Kaiser, you, who had been given a chance and still chose.

Had you actually just done this?

“You! I- Fuck you!” You hissed.

This was…You hated Kaiser. You hated him. He made you angry. On purpose! What were you doing here…kissing him?

You loosened your grip around Kaiser‘s shirt and used your flat palm to push him away. The boy didn‘t stumble, barely took a step back when you had already turned around, ready to run off.

Kaiser‘s amused laughter followed you as you pushed through the door and rushed down the corridor. His last shouted words, “Bye Schatz!” accompanying you as you disappeared behind the next corner.

You couldn‘t believe what had just happened.

You had kissed Kaiser. And the worst part about it? You kinda wanted to do it again.

translations:

“You know, you’re really cute. I could eat you right up.”

“Not to mention how easy it is to rile you up, it’s almost funny.”

“If you say so, honey (=verbatim ‘treasure’).”

“Don’t you like it when i speak german for you? That hurts me.”

“Bye honey (=verbatim ‘treasure’)”

taglist: @crystal-lilac @duf3h6237 @hufflefluffslytherin @chucky-26o1 @lordbugs

#bllk #blue lock #kaiser blue lock #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x you #kaiser x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk oneshot #blue lock oneshot #kaiser oneshot

2K notes · View notes

auteurdelabre · 4 months

Text

A Little Sun pt 1 DieterBravo x f!Reader

rating: 18+ (future chapters)

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

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

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

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

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

Part 1: First Trimester

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

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

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

You have to work for Dieter man-child Bravo.

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

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

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

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

She's not wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You put up with a lot of his shit.

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

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

"I'm gonna be a dad."

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

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

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

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

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

"I thought you women wanted commitment!"

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

"You remember my ex? Annika?"

"Yeah."

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

"And what did she say?"

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

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

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

"Her fiancé told you that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is a Bravo phase. It'll pass.

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

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

"I need someone educated."

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

"Where did you go to school again?"

"Stanford."

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

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

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

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

"Cancer or heart disease run in your family?"

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

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

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

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

Especially with you.

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

"I'll pay you!"

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

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

He looks affronted. "Of course I am."

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

"Lots of actors have kids and-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

"Mhmmm."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's all you have to say?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

"You're home late."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looks so fucking hot

Gross no.

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

I will now be identifying as a coffee cup

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

It's giving secret romance look at their body language

Omg his hands are so big.

I bet he's crazy in bed.

They've totally hooked up

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

"Since when?"

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

“You are?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Aye aye captain."

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

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

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

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

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

"I LOVE YOU DIETER!'

"OMG ITS HIM!"

"He's so hot!"

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

"DIETER SIGN MY BOOBS!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I couldn't-"

"Go!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're slurring."

"Am not."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The fucking watch!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit that's hot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dieter no, I need to return the-"

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

That asshole.

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

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

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

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

"I can't-"

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

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

"Twilight himself."

Holy shit.

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

///

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

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

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

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

Then another sip to be extra polite.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Want a drink?"

"Yes!"

"Me too!"

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

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

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

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

"A giraffe?"

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

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

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

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

"Yeah!"

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

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

"Oh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But wait, maybe you can?

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

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

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

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

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

He's pointing at your frowning face.

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

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

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

"How come?"

"You're intimidating."

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

"You're pretty too."

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

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

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

"Let's make the baby now."

"Okay."

///

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

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

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

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

"Do you remember anything?"

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

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

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

Dieter is staring at you, looking concerned.

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

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

"Me neither."

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

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

"What?"

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

You laugh out loud. "Of course not!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Deal."

Fuck why didn't I go higher?

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

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

"Yes."

"And I'd get the money when?"

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

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

"Never."

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why do you ask honey?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really?"

"Yeah."

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

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

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

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

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

She grunts a reply before turning back to the television.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[11:02pm] Fuck off.

///

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

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

"Well?"

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

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

You take another test.

And another one.

Pregnant.

Yep. You're fucking pregnant.

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

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

And yet everything has changed.

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

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

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

"We're having a fucking baby!"

///

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

You're six weeks along.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Partially accurate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dieter-"

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

"Dieter-"

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

You smile brightly at him. "I do."

"So do I."

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

///

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

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

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

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

"We're not strangers," Dieter pouts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dieter looks thoughtful before snapping his fingers, inspired.

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

"No."

"Lube?"

"Dieter-"

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

[2:07pm] Too busy puking.

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

[2:08pm] 👍

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

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

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

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

"What’s all this?"

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

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

"Don't forget to update the app!'

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

210 notes · View notes

the-gladiolus · 11 months

Text

Tips For Passing as Male I Accidentally Stumbled Upon While Minding My Own Genderfluid Business:

(Btw everyone deserves to be gendered correctly no matter how they act, these are just some tips that you may try if you would like.)

1. Keep your posture open. Feet shoulder width apart and pointing out, shoulders back, chest forward, energy all directed outward. Even though you may think openness makes your chest or stature more obvious, the energy/confidence is what people notice first, not the content.

2. That said, you don’t have to hold yourself like a peacock the whole time. I’ve learned that people go off the assumption they make when first meeting you, and then don’t really look again - so if the first thing they see is a cis guy, you can relax after that, they rarely double check.

3. When it seems appropriate, offer a handshake when meeting people, especially other guys, and hold a little tighter than is strictly natural. I know it sounds stupid, but it goes far; I’ve been offered more handshakes by guys these past 2 years of somewhat masc presentation than I have all 16 previous years combined. Guys just be shakin hands w/ each other

4. Again, when it makes sense, consider “dapping up” a guy if you know each other, traditionally when you part ways. To do this, proffer your dominant hand in a loose C shape like you’re holding an invisible cup, and when they clasp theirs with yours, lift the hands a few inches in the air and then lower them and release on the way down (sometimes accompanied by opposite hand on the tricep/shoulder, I.e. bro hug. Istg the things men do 💀)

5. If you have the space and it won’t annoy anyone, manspread a bit when you sit

6. Keep your head lifted when you’re out in public - makes your jaw look broader and suggests confidence, I.e. keeping posture open

7. If you want your voice to sound lower, try humming a low note while you’re alone to see how that feels in your throat and know where that timbre comes from in your chest. It’s easier to regulate your voice on command when you experiment, find the strings to pull in yourself to bring out the low sound.

8. Consider peppering in an “as much as the next guy” in conversation. Subtle phrase, but stakes your claim clearly

9. Exude some extra anti-shyness around guys. Make a point to nod to them in greeting and make eye contact like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Little gestures of brazenness go a long way to say “we’re the same”

10. When speaking to a group of guys, try matching their vocal patterns and tone: if they say “like” and “dude” a lot for example, pepper those in too. This works in all situations actually, it will make you seem agreeable and similar to anyone, but it especially works well when you’re trying to blend in with a crowd

11. Clothes with flannel and wool are really good for disguising characteristics you might want to hide

12. Try darkening these areas (outlined in blue) of your face with eyeshadow a bit darker than your skin tone. Eyeshadow blends with skin texture better than things like foundation and it’s hard to smudge, so it’s usually unnoticeable while it adds depth and sharpness to these areas.

#transmasc #transgender #trans guy #trans tips #trans #trans man #trans ftm #trans masc #trans things #everyone I meet thinks I’m a guy help #how am i supposed to live laugh love in these conditions #straight passing #trans passing

595 notes · View notes

yelshin · 1 year

Text

GINGER TRAUMA | PT2 | MLIST

﹙SCARAMOUCHE/WANDERER X FEM READER﹚

An: The pt1 spoiling isn't ENOUGH for Meowmouche so heres another day of spoiling him😈

Tw:3.3 SCARAMOUCHE LORE SPOILERS, cursing, kuni and reader bullying ginger, mention of blood/cuts, Childe calling Kuni a demon😢, yandere thoughts ig???

After long tiring day you can't wait to go home and cuddle with your very very sweet kitten; kuni!

"[name]!" Childe greeted you while you're on your way home "oh! Childe! What's sup?" You greeted him back and he seem s little bit of nervous "well uhh.. i was wondering if i could spend a night at your house? Like a sleepover ykyk" he touched his nape a little embarrassed "Ofc! You're welcome to my house as always" you smiled at him before walking to your home

Sooner or later the ginger will regret falling for your sweet trap.

"OW! STOP IT YOU DEMON CAT-" you sweat drop at the sight of childe being bullied by your cat; scratching his face with his sharp nails

"im very sorry childe but maybe Kuni have a problem with you.." "I DIDN'T EVEN DO ANYTHING!一STOP IT!" He tried to keep Kuni out of his face but he can't because Kuni was gripping on his clothes that it will tear off soon..

"maybe he have a problem on your existence" you gave childe a close-eyed-smile "ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TAKING YOUR CATS SIDE WHO ONLY KNOW YOU FOR LIKE A WEEK INSTEAD OF YOUR POOR FRIEND一OW!" He argued and you feel a little guilty but it was his fault not You cat.. right?

"he's adorable yk.." you wipe a fake tear before patting your lap and Kuni immediately stopped bullying Childe and cuddle at your lap as if he did nothing

"both of you are gingerphobic" "Im glad you know^^" you could see the veins popping out of Childe's forehead while he eats his dinner specially made by you ofc

After dinner You and Childe decided to watch a movie at your laptop but while attempting to lay his head on your shoulder your cat didn't seem to like it. So Kuni decided to scratch Childe on his cheek leaving a wound "OW-! THIS DEMON ISTG"

This time Childe expects you to protect him but to his suprise you just shrugged your shoulders "Its your fault for doing something he doesn't like"

Childe.is.close.to.crying.

"[name] idk what in the world did this cat did to you or cast on you but CAN'T YOU SEE HE'S A LITTLE DEMON???" "WHAT DO YOU MEAN A DEMON?! BE GLAD IM LETTING U HAVE A SLEEPOVER AT MY HOUSE AND YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO CALL MY SWEET ANGEL INNOCENT KITTY KUNI?? HOW DARE YOU." You glared at Childe who seem clutching his chest letting out fake crocodile tears.

"oh my sweet [name] this isn't you.." Childe sighs before going to sleep at the guest room while you grinned and have a highfive with Kuni before giggling "Now we can watch movie together WITHOUT someone THIRDWHEELING"

At the very next morning you woke up with Kuni snuggling at your chest comfortably and you noticed a note at the coffee table meaning Childe already left this morning

Grinning to yourself you decided to spoil your Kuni again "c'mon Kuni.. wake up we're going on a date!" You slightly poke him and he soon open his eyes before stretching. You got up and do your morning routine with him!

Brushing your teeth beside him while you gave him his own cat Colgate (yk those things for pets to not have stinky breathing ykyygejsg), cooking while he's on your apron pockets watching you cook his and yours breakfast, eating with you while you eat on the floor with him watching him eat because he's cute while eating!

"say wanna go to the near cat café i found? That would be fun because you can make friends there! Also thinking of adopting another kitten.." You see him staring at you with sad eyes, he didn't want you to adopt another kitten! You already have him as your kitten and you dont wanna pay another 3k+ for the other kittens things.. (wow surprisingly he wants you to save money for himself LMAO💀一)

"Welcome! Please make yourself comfortable" you sat at the chair near the window before placing Kuni at the table watching cats climb up to the chair and play with him.. but he doesn't seem to get along with the cats very well...

He keeps hissing at them and even attempt to scratch them with his sharp nails, you thought that the ginger cat reminds him of Childe thats why he's acting like that

After finishing your order you head out of the cafe and decided to buy your Kuni some.. toys

Listen he can't just scratch the side of the sofas, the carpet and other things yk so why not buy him his OWN toys?. You're back again at the same pet shop; the place where you spoiled Kuni

"Kuni since you've been scratching other things lately... Especially childe (except the fact he's a human) i decided that we should buy you some toys hm? Are you ready to make my wallet heavy again?" You smiled towards the small kitten before pushing the cart grabbing almost every.single.toy.

Deep inside Kuni was a little bit worried about the prices (oops did i spoil?) What about the electricity bills? The water bills? What about YOUR food? But you look like you don't care about anything or anyone right now but him.

"I think we should build you your own room dont you think?" You put your hand under your chin thinking about his very own room look like before grinning.

"Alright! Time to be broke again!"

An: OKAY PT3 WILL BE POSTED SOON AND I HAVE ALL OF IT PLANNED WHSGRHHE

Taglist: @kunikuzushicandegrademefr

2K notes · View notes

sussysluttyscorpio · 1 year

Text

Random Astrological Observations Part-9 (18+)

(This picture does not belong to me at all) (Please take only what resonates. I'm really unsure about several observations this time)

~Mars is weak in Libra, since it's in its enemy sign. However, this may/not affect their sex drive. I mean, most Libra Mars are pretty kinky in their own way. They have a huge praise kink and might cringe over degradation kink. Personally, for me too, it's a huge turn off.

Someone: "You are such a dirty whore..." *degradation kink* Libra Mars: "Oh really? Well", pauses, "Go fuck a whore then coz I ain't one".

~Praise kink 🤝🏻 Leo Mars. Istg, they want to be ADORED in bed. They want to hear things like, "Fuck, you're so pretty" in the middle of doing the deed. Princess treatment is a hugeeee turn on.

~I've read this so many times that Aries Mars people have an animalistic sex drive. They'll actually "Preying on you tonight. Hunt you down and eat you alive". Haha.

Like tearing clothes and throwing on the bed, biting, nails on the back... And, well, due to all this rush, they finish quite early🤡

~Weak Mars (Taurus, Cancer, Libra) are Rope bunnies. They like being tied or restricted probably. Submission is their strong suit.

Doesn't mean that they are strictly submissive. They could have heavy scorpio placements and be Switchers too.

~Gemini Ascendants are some of the horniest peeps (to themselves or to others may vary) after they expose themselves to sex world. After all, they have Scorpio in the 6th house. They might like adding sex to their routine too since 6th house means your routine stuff and scorpio is...

Also, Gemini is depicted by a man and a woman and the connection between them. Hence, Gemini is a more sexual placement than Scorpio itself.

I know. You thought Gemini was symbolised by the twins, didn't you? Well, in Vedic astrology, it is symbolised by a man and a woman.

~Neptune in 8th people might daydream about sex a lot, or may like visualising sex. In fact, they might be Voyeurs (people who get turned on from seeing other people have sex)

~People with Rahu (North node) conjunct or opposite Venus might find themselves being called sex addicts or people who are always called out for always talking about sex.

~Scorpio placements feel no shame in talking about sex at all. Like, if you feel no shame in doing it, why feel shame in talking about it. The hypocrisy pisses them off.

~Moon conjunct Pluto women may find themselves getting called "mommy" a lot and they do not like that usually?

~I'm jealous of people who get Capricorn Venus lovers. They will fuck you like those fictional book men and I'm here for it? Where are my Capricorn Venus men?

The fact that my ex was a Capricorn Venus and the guy I cheated on him was also a Capricorn Venus🙂 (Please no, I don't take pride over this at all)

~Mars Conjunct Venus people and their sex appeal🫣 You leave me shy with your sexual fantasies please. They might be non-monogamous too.

~Chiron in 7th people might hate their partners to be in open relationships, but they themselves are very comfortable with being in one. I mean, open relationships are good for these people since commitments sometimes may feel overbearing for them.

~I don't know about others but I have a huge thing for Somnophilia, consensually of course. (No, I'm not ashamed of it) I guess it's because of my Venus (And Mars) Conjunct Ketu (South Node) but *shrugs*

~Capricorn Mars people may be into age-difference kinks? Very probable. A friend of mine has this and she fantasises things with older actors a lot. She hates men of her age😭

~On the flipside, Libra mars (may apply to Taurus and Cancer Mars too) may prefer younger men to older guys.

~What is with Women with Lilith in 1st being called "mommy" by guys? This is one of the most sexualised placements. (even if you feel it isn't, give it some time) Once you start getting sexualised, it fills you with disgust and an even poorer self esteem.

~I've seen guys with Scorpio in 4th not really liking to be called "daddy." They find it weird somehow. Although, they may have NO problem calling someone "mommy." Hmph?

1K notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

innocenceandinstinctxx-arch-blog

Ðê§êr† måñ

hairunazmi001

Untitled

zetsomen

stepping stone.

introvertbaker

The Best Baking and Dessert Recipes

toriepedroza

Untitled