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Softer
Pairing: Joel x F!Reader
Summary: Joel’s feeling a tad self-conscious
Warnings/Tags: Humor, No outbreak AU, Tommy being an asshole in a brotherly way, fluff, pregnancy, sympathetic pregnancy, blended families, strip tease, nothing bad happens to Sarah ever and Ellie's your kid, and I think that’s it?
A/N: Thank you much @strang3lov3, @whocaresstillthelouvre, @jay-zzle for your eyes and Jai also for the moodboard!!! 😍🥰😘
This is for @beefrobeefcal’s Joel Sat on Me challenge! I hope you laugh at this as much as I did writing it 😅
Masterlist||AO3
Divider by @saradika-graphics

The gender reveal/baby shower was going off without a hitch. Maria was making sure people knew where to put gifts, Tommy was helping Joel at the grill, while your mom was helping you put the Boy or Girl banner around you. You hate this kind of attention but Maria and your parents both wanted to make a show of it. Despite your arguments on tradition being only for the first baby.
“Well, it’s you and Joel’s first baby together,” Maria deadpanned, all while your mom nodded along.
“Can’t beat that logic!” Your dad grinned.
“Fine,” you relented, rolling your eyes, “Good thing it’s the last one too.”
Joel smirked, his palm caressing your thigh, “It’ll be fine,” he whispered in your ear, “Least there will be cake,” he added with a shrug. You couldn’t help but laugh.
“Can’t beat that logic!” You reply mockingly, sticking your tongue out.
—
“Mom!” Ellie shouts, “Sarah’s trying to sneak into the cake!”
“Quit being such a narc!” Sarah laughs, playfully smacking Ellie’s arm, “You want to know just as much as I do!”
“Girls!” Joel hollers. “Come help your uncle Tommy set up!”
Both girls walk to the grill, helping Tommy carry hamburgers and hotdogs to the table.
“Alright everyone!” Maria announces, raising her voice to get everyone’s attention. “Let’s eat! Parents-to-be first!”
“Hey momma,” Joel grins, meeting you at the food table and placing a soft kiss on your temple, “What ya in the mood for?”
“More like what is the baby in the mood for?” you grumble, trying to adjust the sash around your body. “I hate this fucking thing,” you hiss.
“Just gotta eat, cut the cake and get through presents then I’ll kick everyone out,” Joel reassures.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you mumble, grabbing a plate and staring at the food. The baby decided it wanted corn on the cob, a burger with all the extras, potato salad, and a small salad with more ranch on it than lettuce.
“Jesus Joel,” Tommy laughed when you both got to one of the tables. “Your woman’s the one eatin’ for two not you!”
Everyone looked at Joel with his plate piled high with two burgers, two hotdogs, and plenty of sides to feed a small army. You saw the flush creeping up his neck as he sat next to you. Joel opened his mouth to say something but Maria interrupted.
“Oh hush,” Maria said, smacking Tommy softly on the shoulder.
“Probably going through that sympathetic pregnancy thing,” a guest piped in. “My husband did that too!”
“Sympathetic pregnancy?” Ellie asked with her mouth full of potato salad. Your mom begins to laugh, shaking her head at Ellie.
“Ellie, gross,” you hiss. “Finish eating before you speak.”
Ellie makes a show of swallowing her food before speaking again. “What the hell is sympathetic pregnancy?”
“Ellie,” you groan. “Language! I haven’t spent the past 13 years raising a hellion!”
“And just think, you’re starting over!” your dad laughs.
Joel, meanwhile, keeps pushing the food around on his plate, taking smaller bites of the sides.
“Okay, googled it!” Sarah announces to the table, wagging her phone and clearing her throat. “Google says, c- cou- nevermind, I’m not even gonna try. Sympathetic pregnancy is a proposed condition in which an expectant father experiences some of the same symptoms and behavior as his pregnant partner. These most often include major weight gain, altered hormone levels, morning nausea, and disturbed sleep patterns.”
“That why you were asking for Pepto the other day at the site?” Tommy asks, nudging Joel’s shoulder before sitting down. “Dealing with some morning sickness as well?”
“Damn it Tommy,” Joel growls, balling up his fist. “If you don’t cut it out-“
“Alright, alright,” Maria hisses. “Enough.” She adds pointing at Tommy.
—
Joel stood in front of the mirror, looking at himself. Marriage had been good to him. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline the moment he got you pregnant. He hadn’t thought about it before but Tommy got in his head. Especially when he announced to everyone at the party it made sense now why Joel had to move his tool belt to the next hole for it to fit.
“Whatcha lookin’ at hot stuff?” You smirk, standing in the doorway of the adjoining bathroom with your toothbrush in hand.
“Thinkin’ I need to go on a diet,” Joel huffs out, turning towards you with his hands on his hips.
“The fuck would you do that for?!”
“Tommy’s ri—“
“I swear if the next words out of your mouth are Tommy’s right.” You pout, trying your best to not let the toothpaste escape your mouth as you move back into the bathroom, spitting into the sink, “I’m gonna kill ‘em.”
Going back to the bedroom, you sit on the edge of the bed, watching Joel find his pajamas for the night. Sure, he’s gotten thicker in the middle since you got pregnant. His pants fit a bit tighter around his thighs. His chest, oh god his chest, the way your hands grip onto the meaty pecs he has now. You make a small noise at the memory of this morning before the girls woke up, and how you rode him as best you could with your swollen belly in the way, slick pooling in your underwear.
“What?” Joel asks, turning to look at you, noticing that feral glint in your eyes. He’s seen it more and more as the months have gone by. Sarah’s mom was nothing compared to you at this stage in pregnancy. Revved up and ready to go 24/7 these days.
“Tommy’s got it totally wrong,” you grin, “I love the way you look these days Joel.”
“Yeah?” Joel smiles shyly, rubbing the back of his neck, turning to face you, “what.. uh.. what about it?”
“Dad bod through and through,” you hum, adjusting on the bed to sit a little further back. “Was thinking about this morning, how I can hold onto your chest a little better with your pecs being a little softer.”
“Yeah?” Joel grins, watching your eyes track his fingers as they open the first couple buttons of his flannel, his chest barely peeking out through the fabric, “Should I put on a show?”
“I wanna see my man!” you let out a breath nodding your head eagerly.
“Feel like we need some music or something,” Joel says, letting out a shy laugh, trailing his palms down the front of his shirt, popping open more of the buttons. You begin humming 70’s porno music, “No thank you, that’s enough.”
You shrug letting out a giggle as he continues unbuttoning his shirt, his strong chest and thick belly being revealed as he rips the flannel shirt back in a dramatic fashion, spreading his legs wide and tilting his head to sway his curls behind him.
“Jesus Christ, Napoleon Dynamite. Ya gonna take it off or what?”
“‘Scuse me?” Joel asks, straightening up, pinning you with a look, pulling his flannel back over his shoulders, “Listen, I’ve never done this for anybody. I’d ‘preciate if ya didn’t make rude comments.”
You clear your throat and lean your arms back against the bedding to prop yourself up, “Sorry, horny goblins took over, proceed.”
With his flannel shirt open, he starts flipping his belt open, stalking towards you, nodding your head at this new development, sliding his belt out quickly from his belt loops causing a gasp to escape your lips.
“Mmmm,” you moan softly, thighs squeezing together, and squirming on the bed “Joel. You look so fucking good like this.”
Joel spins around to show you his backside before slipping one shoulder of the flannel off, turning his head to the side with a smirk as he slowly slides it off his arm, followed by the other. You hear the button and zipper of his jeans sliding down. He begins teasing you with his jeans, dropping them some before pulling them back up and swiveling his hips, he puts one foot on the opposite leg to try and help pull the leg out.
“Fuck!” He yelps, as he falls back sitting on you, “Shit that wasn’t supposed to happen!”
“Ow!” You groan, smacking his ass to get him to move. He rolls off you to lay beside you on the bed.
“You good?” Joel asks, laying on his side next to you, placing his palm on your belly.
“Yeah, I’m good,” you grin, placing your hand on top of his with a sigh. “No Magic Mike in here, but for your first attempt that was good Miller,” you add with a smirk.
“Fuck you,” Joel grins, leaning up to kiss you.
“Fuck. Please!” You groan, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him in for a deeper kiss.
Aww yay! Thank you for reading and sharing! ❤️❤️❤️
Memories

Summary: What happens when your husband, Dieter, forgets who you are?
Warnings: 18+ minors get outta here! Cursing, fluff, smut, feel good, oral(f receiving), fingering(f receiving), probably not like realistic medical knowledge but it’s fiction 🤷♀️
A/N: Thank you so much @papipascalispunk for editing. @jay-zzle for the idea AND the mood board 😍❤️ I really liked writing this and had a lot of fun with it. Hope y’all like it! @schnarfer(it's here!)
Masterlist||AO3 Link
“Wait, who said we can’t have fruit bars anymore?” you ask, turning from the pantry to look at your seven year old daughter, Luna, sitting at the kitchen island.
“Daddy,” Luna states matter of factly, “He said that it’s fake food and we should only eat organic stuff.”
“Yeah, we need organic food,” your son Leo pipes in from the seat next to her. At three years old, he is currently in the copy everything big sister says or does phase.
“So, what do you want as a snack in your lunch box then?” you ask, raising your eyebrows, waiting for an answer.
“Uhhh… banana?” Luna shrugs, “Daddy wasn’t very specific on what I should eat instead.”
“Okay but get your breakfast eaten before your cereal gets soggy,” you say, pointing at both before starting on the dishes.
Of course Dieter would be the one to tell the kids not to eat certain foods. The man scolds you every time he sees your Bluetooth headphones – droning on and on about the effects it’ll have on your brain waves and how it’s going to damage your mind. Your relationship with Dieter was a bit of a chaotic whirlwind, meeting randomly on the set of one of the movies he starred in, one your friend was working on the set of.
“Well, hello there,” Dieter had said, standing next to you by the craft table. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”
“Excuse me?” you asked, looking around to see who he was actually talking to.
“Or should I walk by again?” he said with a smile.
“Is that how you get all the girls?” you asked, picking up a piece of cheese and pointing it at him, “Because that shit was pretty cheesy if you ask me.”
“No, trying something new,” Dieter said, cracking up into a giant fit of laughter. “Sorry, sorry. That– yeah, that was pretty good.”
“Bravo needed on set!” someone with a headset shouted in the distance, frantically waving at him.
“Guess that’s my cue,” he sighed, “Hope to see you ar– wait, what’s your name?”
You introduce yourself and he takes your hand, kissing the back of it.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said, repeating your name and winking, “Hope to see you around.”
That was the conversation that started it all nearly eight years ago. Within the first year of knowing Dieter, you were married and pregnant – and no – it wasn’t a shotgun wedding, as much as the tabloids tried to pin it as one.
“Dieter Bravo and Mystery Woman Seen Leaving Las Vegas Wedding Chapel”
“Dieter Bravo Expecting First Child with New Wife – Shotgun Wedding?”
“How Long Before Dieter Bravo Gets His First Divorce?”
You both just knew you were meant to be together. With the birth of Luna, he had sobered up completely. These days he hardly even drinks beer. It’s weird in a way, that he’s changed so much from who you first met, but still the same Dieter in every other aspect. Wild, spontaneous, creative, romantic, chaotic at times, and so loving.
–
“Good morning, my babies,” Dieter says, waltzing into the kitchen, giving each of his kids a kiss on the top of their heads.
“Hi, Daddy,” Luna and Leo exclaim.
“Hello, my love,” Dieter smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist giving you a sloppy smooch on the cheek.
“Ew,” Luna shouts, making gagging noises.
“Yeah, what Luna said!” Leo says, copying his older sister with fake gagging.
“Stop with the fake gagging,” he replies, looking at them, “You’ll make mommy sick.”
“Hi, babe,” you laugh, “Someone’s in a good mood this morning.”
“I want to start doing my own stunts like Tom Cruise,” Dieter explains excitedly, “And I think I’m going to crush it today! I’m supposed to scale a building, don’t worry, everything is going to be totally safe.”
“Seriously, Dieter?” you sigh, “You may say that it’s safe but I’m still going to worry – please be safe.”
Dieter gasps, putting his hand to his chest as if he were clutching a set of pearls. “Babies, I don’t think mommy trusts daddy!”
“Momma,” Leo laughs, perching up on the chair more, “Daddy be fine!”
“Yeah, momma,” Dieter says with a grin, “Daddy be fine.”
“Yeah, okay,” you say, snorting and shaking your head, looking at your watch you realize you’re going to be cutting it close in getting Luna to school on time. “Shit!”
“Mommy,” Luna scolds, “You shouldn’t say bad words like that!”
“Luna, hurry up with your cereal or else you’re going to be late for school again,” you say as you turn to Dieter who is rummaging in the fridge for his own breakfast. “What time do you have to be on set?”
“In about an hour, get her to school. My favorite son and I will be fine here at home. If need be, I’ll tell the director that I’m going to be late. Family first,” he says, “Not like they’d fire me at this point. I’m the entire reason people are going to want to see this movie.”
“I love you so much,” you say, giving him a kiss before ushering Luna out the door.
“Love you too, baby!” Dieter shouts.
–
“I’m back,” you announce from the front door.
“That didn’t take as long as I expected,” Dieter chuckles, “I gotta get headed to the studio though.” He scoops Leo up into a tight hug, “We'll play superhero when I get back home, okay?”
“Otay,” Leo says, pouting.
“Poor baby,” Dieter coos and glances up at you with a smirk, “You sure you don’t want another one?”
“Dieter,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck, “We’ve talked about this. If it feels right, then maybe, but right now? No.”
“Fine,” Dieter groans, “But the moment you think it feels right, tell me?”
“Promise,” you smirk.
Dieter tells Leo goodbye with the promise of playing superheroes when he gets back home. Your mind begins to wander back to Dieter’s question about another baby as you go about your chores. You start smiling thinking back to when you first decided to start trying for a baby – lying in bed together shortly after getting married.
“How many kids do you want?” Dieter asked, playing with the wedding band on your finger.
“I’d always imagined three honestly,” you smiled, “Why?”
“I want whatever you want,” he grinned, slotting himself between your legs again. “But if you wanted at least one I wouldn’t mind trying now.”
“D, we just got married a month ago,” you said, shaking your head, “Is that the only reason you married me? To have a baby?”
“Of course not, baby,” Dieter said, linking his fingers with yours and pinning them above your head, “I just know I really, really want them with you.”
“Oh yeah?” you whispered, tilting your head up to capture his lips. He moaned into your mouth, slowly grinding his stiffness against you.
“Yes,” he panted, breaking the kiss.
“Let’s do it then,” you said, nipping his bottom lip, “Fuck a baby into me, Dieter.”
“Fuck yeah, baby,” he groaned.
“Momma!” Leo shouts, pulling you from your thoughts, “Your phone.”
You had been so deep in the memory you didn’t even notice your phone ringing. It’s just Dieter, probably checking in to see how your day is going. He tends to do that while he’s on breaks at work.
“Well, hello, Tom Cruise,” you answer, giggling – except it isn’t Dieter on the other end.
Instead, you hear his assistant, Andy, saying your name before, “Dieter’s been in an accident. I’m almost to your house, I’ll watch Leo so you can go to Cedars-Sinai medical,” quickly spills out of his mouth, “It’s not good.”
–
It’s been two weeks that you’ve sat beside his bed in this damn hospital, waiting for him to wake up. The doctors are all hopeful that he’ll wake up at any minute, but it’s been two days since he’s been off the ventilator, and nothing has happened yet. The kids keep asking where their dad is, and you don’t have any other answer than he’s sick.
“Dieter,” you beg, holding onto his hand, “Babe, please wake up. We need you. Luna and Leo miss you – I miss you. Please just wake up.”
The nurse comes in to check Dieter’s vitals for the third time today. Since she’s keeping him company, you decide to head to the cafeteria to get some food, grabbing something simple before heading back to Dieter’s room. When you return, you notice a flurry of activity.
“Mr. Bravo, can you tell me what year it is?” a doctor asks, shining a small flashlight in his eyes.
“Of course I can, dumbass! It’s 2016,” Dieter snaps. “Now will you stop shining that light in my eye?”
“What’s going on?” you ask hesitantly.
“He woke up while you went to get food,” a nurse explains, “We’re trying to make sure mentally he’s with us.”
“Oh, for fuck sake!” Dieter cries out, “I’m fine, never felt better! There, she must be my new assistant.”
All eyes turn to you. This was a possibility the doctor had talked about before – temporary amnesia. Hopefully that’s all it is. The doctor motions you to follow him out of the room.
“He seems to have hit his head harder than we thought. In all honesty, I would try to play pretend with him for a little bit. Try thinking of things that might remind him of who he actually is today,” the doctor suggests. “I’m so sorry Mrs. Bravo.”
Dieter is having a conniption in the room while nurses are trying to calm him down. As you step back in, you see your husband frantically disconnecting and throwing the wires off of his body and onto the floor.
“Where the fuck is my assistant?” Dieter yells.
“Dieter, D, baby – Mr. Bravo!” you shout and Dieter immediately freezes, eyes wide as saucers. “You need to calm down before you hurt yourself.”
“What happened?” Dieter asks, looking around at everyone.
“We’ll give you guys some space,” a nurse says quietly while ushering the others out of the room. You grab the chair next to his bed and sit down, reaching for his hand but stopping yourself as you notice your ring. Right now, this isn’t your husband. This is Dieter Bravo who believes it’s the year 2016.
“You were in an accident, you hit your head pretty good,” you start explaining to him, “You’ve been in a coma for two weeks now.”
“So, who are you?” he asks, looking you up and down with a raised eyebrow. “I knew my team wanted to hire me a new assistant since things didn’t work out with the last one – didn’t realize they’d pick someone so hot. Would you wanna have sex with me?”
“Dieter, I don’t think you’re cleared for those types of activities,” you chuckle, “I’m here for whatever you might need though.”
“Can you get me my phone?” he asks with those puppy-dog eyes he does best.
“Sure,” you reach for your purse digging around and find his phone, handing it over to him. “The passcode is 332016”
“The fuck? Why would I change it from the classic 42069?” he asks, looking at you with confusion.
“It’s uh… an important day to you,” you say, looking away, not wanting him to see the tears forming in your eyes. The day you met.
“So, did I have an accident on set?”
“Yeah, you were scaling a building and the cable holding you snapped. You fell a good distance and smacked your head on the ground.”
“Wait,” Dieter says looking at his phone calendar, pointing it towards you, “Why does this say it’s 2024?”
“Because it’s not 2016,” you shrug, “It’s 2024.”
“How long have I been in a fucking coma?” Dieter asks, starting to panic again, frantically searching through the contacts in his phone, “Why can’t I find my dealer's number? I need coke. Wait, you’re my fucking assistant – go get me coke!”
“You’ve only been in a coma for two weeks and the only coke I’ll get you is Coca Cola,” you say crossing your arms, “I won’t let you have drugs in m– the house, Dieter.”
“Wait, my assistant lives with me?” he gasps, “You’re just supposed to come when I call you.”
“Different kind of assistant here.”
“Wait, I can’t have you in my house! I see that ring on your finger – I don’t want to get in between a marriage,” Dieter says, pointing at your left hand.
“It’s– it’s complicated right now,” you shrug.
“Fine, stay in my house, but stay out of my way,” Dieter sighs in frustration.
This is going to be a lot harder than you thought. He doesn’t remember who you are to him. He doesn’t remember getting clean when he married you. He doesn’t remember anything. Going home that night doesn’t help either because Luna wants to know what’s going on with her dad.
“Andy said that daddy woke up!” Luna says vibrating with excitement, “How come he’s not home?
“I had to leave him at the hospital because he’s still sick, honey.” You sit down on the plush couch in the living room, “Come here. I wanna talk to you about something.”
“Okay,” Luna hesitantly says, coming to sit next to you.
“Daddy is still sick. He looks fine but his brain is sick right now.”
“What’s that mean?” she questions, looking at you with the same eyes as her father.
“He doesn’t remember some stuff about his life right now,” you continue, “But we are gonna try to help him get it back. We have to think of the best memories we have with daddy so that maybe he’ll remember better.”
“So, we have to fix daddy?” she asks with tears in her eyes as you grab her into a hug, stroking her hair.
“Yeah, sweet girl, we have to fix daddy,” you say, trying not to cry yourself.
–
What was supposed to only be a few days turned into a week at the hospital. A week of playing Dieter’s assistant and having him boss you around. He was still adamant on getting drugs, but you put your foot down on that one. You weren’t going to let him ruin his seven years of sobriety just because he lost his memory.
“Alright Mr. Bravo looks like you’re all set to leave. Just need you to sign a couple of papers here and then you can be on your way,” the doctor says, handing him the papers.
“Fucking finally,” Dieter groans, “Not that this isn’t a wonderful hospital, but I’d much rather be home.”
“Of course,” the doctor says.
“Will you go ahead and bring the car around? I’d rather not walk too much considering my condition,” Dieter asks, looking at you.
“Of course, D– Mr. Bravo,” you grit through your teeth with the most customer service smile you can muster. That was a new development, Dieter wanting you only to refer to him as Mr. Bravo. You rush out of the room so that it doesn’t blow up into another argument. He’s already tried to fire you twice because of the no drugs thing. You had to make up some story of how you’re in a five-year contract that cannot be broken and tell him three times before he finally bought the story.
Pulling the car around to the front of the hospital, you see him being wheeled out.
“Thank you again so much for taking care of me,” he says, winking at the nurse, “Best care I’ve ever received!”
“No problem at all, Dieter,” she giggles.
“Could I possibly get your number?” Dieter asks, looking expectantly at the nurse after getting settled into the passenger seat of the car. She shakes her head violently.
“No, sorry,” she says before running off wheeling the wheelchair back into the building.
“Well, that was fucking weird,” Dieter says, looking at you. “Did I do something wrong? Most women don’t literally run from me like that.”
“No, Mr. Bravo, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you growl, “Nothing at all.”
You begin to play a song you hope might bring back some sort of memory of you. With all the hope you can muster you hit play and hear Clint Eastwood by Gorillaz, one of the songs you guys would listen to while you got high together. Dieter starts to chuckle listening to the song.
“What?” you snap at him.
“It’s just this song,” Dieter said grinning, “It reminds me of someone.”
“Oh?” you ask, trying not to pry too much hoping he’ll just continue talking.
“Yeah, I can’t remember what her name is, though. Good lay, that’s for damn sure,” he says, laughing a little, “All I remember is she wasn’t even in the business, she’d call me out on all my shit, and we would smoke weed together listening to this song a lot. I think that’s why I liked her. Wonder what she’s up to these days?”
“Oh um… who knows, maybe she’s still in town?” Your heart swells realizing he’s talking about you, that he remembers some remnants of you.
“No way!” Dieter says and sighs, “Way too fucking good for someone like me anyways. Probably found some nice guy, got married, has kids, the whole white picket fence shit and everything. She was way out of my league.”
Pulling up to the house you don’t even know what to say to him. He looks almost defeated in a way and then looks confused when he sees the front door opening.
“Oh no,” you whisper, watching Luna run to the car, “Dieter, wait here. Do not move!”
“Why the fuck are there children at my house?” he asks while you’re getting out, but you shut the door behind you, ignoring him.
“Luna, baby, I need you to go back into the house. Daddy’s sick, remember?” you say, trying to usher her back up the driveway.
“Mommy!” Leo shrieks, running to you.
“Fuck – I mean fudge,” Andy says, frantically running out to the driveway, “I was in the bathroom. She must’ve heard the car, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“The hell is going on here?” Dieter’s voice booms while getting out of the car, “I asked you why there are kids in my house.”
“Da–” Luna starts, but you cut her off.
“You two, inside. Now,” you say, ushering them towards Andy. Once they’re inside you whip around to look at Dieter standing by the car.
“You,” you snarl, walking towards him, “Screw what the doctor said. I’ve had enough of this shit. I’m not your fucking assistant so stop bossing me around. I’m your wife – those two are our children!”
“Wha–” Dieter stares at you with wide eyes, “D– DNA Test, I want a fucking DNA test!”
“Dieter, there isn’t a need for a DNA test because they’re your kids. I mean, did you even look at them?”
“Those are not my kids, they look Latino,” he argues.
“Dieter!” you yell, “You are Latino.”
“Oh, yeah,” he whispers, looking down. “So, you’re my wife?”
“Yes, Dieter, I’m your wife. I’m the girl that would get high with you listening to Clint Eastwood.”
“Wild,” he says looking at the house, the ground below him, the yard, anywhere but you “Wild.”
–
It’s been a week at home now, but Dieter is trying his hardest to regain his memory after you lay everything out on the table for him. You show him pictures of your Las Vegas wedding, your pregnancy photos, the kids’ births – he finally relents to the truth when you show him their birth certificates with his name listed under Father. Luna has been trying to show him drawings that she’s done for him, but nothing is working. Poor Leo just wants to play superheroes, but at just three years old, he doesn’t understand what’s going on at all.
One night, after you put the kids to bed, Dieter comes to your bedroom.
“What if we had sex?” he suggests.
“Dieter, I don’t know if that would be a good idea,” you groan, flopping onto the bed rubbing your eyes.
“I’m just saying, what if we did?” he shrugs, “Was just a suggestion, but I get it.”
“Come here,” you say, patting the spot next to you in bed. He reluctantly sits down next to you as you open your arms as an invitation. “How about we cuddle?”
He nods, setting his head on your chest. You can tell he didn’t know what to do with his hands because he’s so tense. You grab one of them and push it around your back, hoping he’ll understand your silent suggestion.
“Like this?” he whispers, carefully adjusting both arms to wrap around you.
“Just like that,” you hum, stroking the curls at the base of his neck, breathing his scent in for the first time in weeks. Clean laundry, a hint of eucalyptus, and something that’s so specifically Dieter.
“I like this,” Dieter purs, rubbing his head against your chest, “I wish so badly I could just remember everything.”
“I know D, I know,” you sigh, continuing to gently stroke his head, “We’ll get there.”
Dieter moves so his head is in the crook of your neck. You feel his lips begin to place soft kisses against your skin.
“Dieter,” you gasp, turning your head to look at him, “What are you doing?”
“I wanna make you feel better,” he says, giving you those puppy dog eyes you can never refuse. “You’ve had to deal with a lot and this is the only way I know how to try and make things right.”
“Okay,” you whisper, nodding your head. As much as you’ve avoided intimacy with Dieter while his memory was gone, he’s still your Dieter and you miss him.
He starts nipping along your jaw and down your neck. One of his hands moves to your breast gently kneading it. His lips move down your throat to your chest, making his way down to your stomach and pushing your shirt up. He places several kisses around your navel down to the top of your underwear, looking up at you again for confirmation. “It’s okay,” you nod, giving him the go ahead. He peels them off your hips and down your legs, throwing them to the floor.
Without warning he flattens his tongue, licking a stripe up your seam. Working his tongue against your clit and back down to your entrance. Up and down, up and down.
“Fuck, baby, I’ve missed this,” you cry out, running your fingers through his hair, “Feels so fucking good!”
Dieter starts humming, loving the praise you were giving him. His tongue continues circling your bundle of nerves, hoping to hear more words of praise.
“Taste so fucking good,” he says breaking away, “Best pussy I’ve ever had.”
You grip his hair tightly and shove his face back to your core. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you can feel your orgasm approaching.
“Please don’t stop,” you moan, “I’m so fucking close!”
Dieter doubles down his efforts after hearing those words. He’s determined to get you off now. One of his hands makes its way to your center, teasing your entrance before plunging two of his thick fingers inside, curling them up to hit that spot only he’s ever been able to reach.
“Oh, fuck,” you cry out, back arching, “Y– yes, just like that!”
He starts grunting, rutting into the mattress, so badly needing to make you come. He knows you’re close, listening to your breathing and hearing the pitch of your moans.
“D,” you moan, while he grabs your thighs, pulling you unbelievably closer to his face to completely devour you before sliding his fingers back into you. “I’m gonna come!”
“Give it to me, baby, come on,” he says, pulling away panting before diving back in for more, “I need it”. He feels the way your legs begin to shake, your walls fluttering around his fingers.
“Fuck,” you hiss, head thrown back against the pillow closing your eyes, “I– I’m gonna… god.”
Dieter feels your walls constrict around his fingers and hums, collecting your release slowly. He takes his time licking you clean before you push him away, feeling overly sensitive. When you finally open your eyes to look at him, you notice his smile and a glint in his eyes. He crawls back up the length of your body and you grab his face, kissing him deeply tasting yourself on his tongue.
“I can’t believe you married me,” he says, breaking the kiss and wrapping his arms around you again, “Love me forever?”
“Dieter, I’m pretty sure I’ve already proven that I’ll love you forever,” you softly chuckle, beginning to stroke his back.
–
The doctor keeps saying to just be patient, that it’s going to take time for Dieter’s memory to return. But it feels like it’s been forever as another week passes. Everyone is getting frustrated, especially Leo.
“Why is daddy broke?” Leo screams at the top of his lungs, “He no play with me!”
“Leo, Daddy just doesn’t feel good,” you try to explain.
“He no like me!” Leo wails, “He only likes Luna.”
“Leo, daddy does too like you,” you try telling him, “He loves you very much.”
“No,” Leo cries as you scoop him up as he buries his face into your shoulder.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” you soothe.
It wasn’t that Dieter wasn’t trying with the kids, he just didn’t know how. His dad instincts hadn’t been brought back full-force. He was great with Luna – engaged in conversation with her, drew pictures with her, watched her put on fashion shows. With Leo though, he didn’t know how to interact with a toddler. Leo would get upset and Dieter didn’t know what to do besides call you for help. Before Dieter’s accident Leo was his little buddy, followed him everywhere, would play with him for hours being superheroes or whatever Leo decided on that day.
You were able to get Leo to calm down and because of his tantrum he wound up falling asleep. After putting him in his bed for a nap you went to search for Dieter.
“Hey,” you sigh, seeing him standing by the window looking into the backyard.
“Hey,” he says sniffling, wiping his sleeve against his nose, “I’m so sorry.”
“Dieter, I’m not the one you should be saying sorry to. Leo misses you! I know that you’re trying, I do, but I need you to try harder for him,” you sigh, “I can’t pretend that I even know what you’re going through, but our baby boy is hurting because he misses his dad!”
“I know,” Dieter says turning around, you could now see the tears falling down his face, “It’s just… he scares me! It’s easier with Luna because I can understand every word she says, she can show me things, she doesn’t throw a tantrum every five minutes.”
“Dieter, he’s your son! Not some little monster to be scared of! He’s three and doesn’t know any better,” you scold him, “Like I said, I just need you to try.”
“Okay,” Dieter agrees, wiping the tears off his face, “When he wakes up from his nap, I’ll try.”
Dieter could hear Leo awake in his room as he slowly made his way there.
“Dad-Bomb an’ dude-bomb! To rescue!” Leo says, jumping off his bed with a cape around his shoulders. Dieter stands in the doorway observing him. Why did that sound so familiar? Dad-Bomb.
“Hey Leo,” Dieter says cautiously, “What are you playing?”
“Superhero,” Leo smiles, “Want to play with me?”
“Can I?” Dieter exclaims, “I’ve always wanted to be a superhero!”
“Yeah!” Leo shouts, running to his closet to grab something. He comes back out with a big purple cape with D-B on the back, handing it to Dieter. “Put on your cape.”
Dieter pulls the cape around his neck, tying it so it wouldn’t fall off. He notices Leo’s little green cape he was wearing also had D-B on the back.
“Do we have names, Leo?” Dieter asks, “I can’t help but see we have stuff on the back of our super-awesome capes!”
“I’m Dude-Bomb, you’re Dad-Bomb!” Leo gleefully exclaims
“Dad-Bomb?”
“Yeah, like ‘da-bomb’ – means super cool,” Leo giggles.This was starting to feel extremely familiar to Dieter.
Leo scampers off to his closet again, rummaging through it trying to find something. He comes back holding a piece of paper and hands it to Dieter. Dieter holds it up, staring at it. His drawing of Dad-Bomb and Dude-Bomb, fighting crime together, and it all comes rushing back.
“Oh my god, Leo,” Dieter yells.
He picks Leo up, swinging him around. Hearing the commotion, you start running towards Leo’s room fearing the worst. Rounding the corner into the room, you saw Dieter crying, hugging Leo tightly and swinging him back and forth.
“Dad-Bomb and Dude-Bomb!” Dieter exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.
“Yeah, that’s you an’ me!” Leo announces proudly.
“Everything okay?” you ask quietly, looking at both of them.
“Yeah. March 3, 2016 – that’s the day I met you,” Dieter says, tears rolling down his face.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, “Baby.”
“Yeah, baby. It’s all back,” he says, setting Leo back down and rushing to grab you in a tight embrace, “I’m back.”
Hahahahha! I can assure you reader definitely wanted to smack him with a frying pan 🤣😂
I’m glad you liked it! 😍
Memories

Summary: What happens when your husband, Dieter, forgets who you are?
Warnings: 18+ minors get outta here! Cursing, fluff, smut, feel good, oral(f receiving), fingering(f receiving), probably not like realistic medical knowledge but it’s fiction 🤷♀️
A/N: Thank you so much @papipascalispunk for editing. @jay-zzle for the idea AND the mood board 😍❤️ I really liked writing this and had a lot of fun with it. Hope y’all like it! @schnarfer(it's here!)
Masterlist||AO3 Link
“Wait, who said we can’t have fruit bars anymore?” you ask, turning from the pantry to look at your seven year old daughter, Luna, sitting at the kitchen island.
“Daddy,” Luna states matter of factly, “He said that it’s fake food and we should only eat organic stuff.”
“Yeah, we need organic food,” your son Leo pipes in from the seat next to her. At three years old, he is currently in the copy everything big sister says or does phase.
“So, what do you want as a snack in your lunch box then?” you ask, raising your eyebrows, waiting for an answer.
“Uhhh… banana?” Luna shrugs, “Daddy wasn’t very specific on what I should eat instead.”
“Okay but get your breakfast eaten before your cereal gets soggy,” you say, pointing at both before starting on the dishes.
Of course Dieter would be the one to tell the kids not to eat certain foods. The man scolds you every time he sees your Bluetooth headphones – droning on and on about the effects it’ll have on your brain waves and how it’s going to damage your mind. Your relationship with Dieter was a bit of a chaotic whirlwind, meeting randomly on the set of one of the movies he starred in, one your friend was working on the set of.
“Well, hello there,” Dieter had said, standing next to you by the craft table. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”
“Excuse me?” you asked, looking around to see who he was actually talking to.
“Or should I walk by again?” he said with a smile.
“Is that how you get all the girls?” you asked, picking up a piece of cheese and pointing it at him, “Because that shit was pretty cheesy if you ask me.”
“No, trying something new,” Dieter said, cracking up into a giant fit of laughter. “Sorry, sorry. That– yeah, that was pretty good.”
“Bravo needed on set!” someone with a headset shouted in the distance, frantically waving at him.
“Guess that’s my cue,” he sighed, “Hope to see you ar– wait, what’s your name?”
You introduce yourself and he takes your hand, kissing the back of it.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said, repeating your name and winking, “Hope to see you around.”
That was the conversation that started it all nearly eight years ago. Within the first year of knowing Dieter, you were married and pregnant – and no – it wasn’t a shotgun wedding, as much as the tabloids tried to pin it as one.
“Dieter Bravo and Mystery Woman Seen Leaving Las Vegas Wedding Chapel”
“Dieter Bravo Expecting First Child with New Wife – Shotgun Wedding?”
“How Long Before Dieter Bravo Gets His First Divorce?”
You both just knew you were meant to be together. With the birth of Luna, he had sobered up completely. These days he hardly even drinks beer. It’s weird in a way, that he’s changed so much from who you first met, but still the same Dieter in every other aspect. Wild, spontaneous, creative, romantic, chaotic at times, and so loving.
–
“Good morning, my babies,” Dieter says, waltzing into the kitchen, giving each of his kids a kiss on the top of their heads.
“Hi, Daddy,” Luna and Leo exclaim.
“Hello, my love,” Dieter smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist giving you a sloppy smooch on the cheek.
“Ew,” Luna shouts, making gagging noises.
“Yeah, what Luna said!” Leo says, copying his older sister with fake gagging.
“Stop with the fake gagging,” he replies, looking at them, “You’ll make mommy sick.”
“Hi, babe,” you laugh, “Someone’s in a good mood this morning.”
“I want to start doing my own stunts like Tom Cruise,” Dieter explains excitedly, “And I think I’m going to crush it today! I’m supposed to scale a building, don’t worry, everything is going to be totally safe.”
“Seriously, Dieter?” you sigh, “You may say that it’s safe but I’m still going to worry – please be safe.”
Dieter gasps, putting his hand to his chest as if he were clutching a set of pearls. “Babies, I don’t think mommy trusts daddy!”
“Momma,” Leo laughs, perching up on the chair more, “Daddy be fine!”
“Yeah, momma,” Dieter says with a grin, “Daddy be fine.”
“Yeah, okay,” you say, snorting and shaking your head, looking at your watch you realize you’re going to be cutting it close in getting Luna to school on time. “Shit!”
“Mommy,” Luna scolds, “You shouldn’t say bad words like that!”
“Luna, hurry up with your cereal or else you’re going to be late for school again,” you say as you turn to Dieter who is rummaging in the fridge for his own breakfast. “What time do you have to be on set?”
“In about an hour, get her to school. My favorite son and I will be fine here at home. If need be, I’ll tell the director that I’m going to be late. Family first,” he says, “Not like they’d fire me at this point. I’m the entire reason people are going to want to see this movie.”
“I love you so much,” you say, giving him a kiss before ushering Luna out the door.
“Love you too, baby!” Dieter shouts.
–
“I’m back,” you announce from the front door.
“That didn’t take as long as I expected,” Dieter chuckles, “I gotta get headed to the studio though.” He scoops Leo up into a tight hug, “We'll play superhero when I get back home, okay?”
“Otay,” Leo says, pouting.
“Poor baby,” Dieter coos and glances up at you with a smirk, “You sure you don’t want another one?”
“Dieter,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck, “We’ve talked about this. If it feels right, then maybe, but right now? No.”
“Fine,” Dieter groans, “But the moment you think it feels right, tell me?”
“Promise,” you smirk.
Dieter tells Leo goodbye with the promise of playing superheroes when he gets back home. Your mind begins to wander back to Dieter’s question about another baby as you go about your chores. You start smiling thinking back to when you first decided to start trying for a baby – lying in bed together shortly after getting married.
“How many kids do you want?” Dieter asked, playing with the wedding band on your finger.
“I’d always imagined three honestly,” you smiled, “Why?”
“I want whatever you want,” he grinned, slotting himself between your legs again. “But if you wanted at least one I wouldn’t mind trying now.”
“D, we just got married a month ago,” you said, shaking your head, “Is that the only reason you married me? To have a baby?”
“Of course not, baby,” Dieter said, linking his fingers with yours and pinning them above your head, “I just know I really, really want them with you.”
“Oh yeah?” you whispered, tilting your head up to capture his lips. He moaned into your mouth, slowly grinding his stiffness against you.
“Yes,” he panted, breaking the kiss.
“Let’s do it then,” you said, nipping his bottom lip, “Fuck a baby into me, Dieter.”
“Fuck yeah, baby,” he groaned.
“Momma!” Leo shouts, pulling you from your thoughts, “Your phone.”
You had been so deep in the memory you didn’t even notice your phone ringing. It’s just Dieter, probably checking in to see how your day is going. He tends to do that while he’s on breaks at work.
“Well, hello, Tom Cruise,” you answer, giggling – except it isn’t Dieter on the other end.
Instead, you hear his assistant, Andy, saying your name before, “Dieter’s been in an accident. I’m almost to your house, I’ll watch Leo so you can go to Cedars-Sinai medical,” quickly spills out of his mouth, “It’s not good.”
–
It’s been two weeks that you’ve sat beside his bed in this damn hospital, waiting for him to wake up. The doctors are all hopeful that he’ll wake up at any minute, but it’s been two days since he’s been off the ventilator, and nothing has happened yet. The kids keep asking where their dad is, and you don’t have any other answer than he’s sick.
“Dieter,” you beg, holding onto his hand, “Babe, please wake up. We need you. Luna and Leo miss you – I miss you. Please just wake up.”
The nurse comes in to check Dieter’s vitals for the third time today. Since she’s keeping him company, you decide to head to the cafeteria to get some food, grabbing something simple before heading back to Dieter’s room. When you return, you notice a flurry of activity.
“Mr. Bravo, can you tell me what year it is?” a doctor asks, shining a small flashlight in his eyes.
“Of course I can, dumbass! It’s 2016,” Dieter snaps. “Now will you stop shining that light in my eye?”
“What’s going on?” you ask hesitantly.
“He woke up while you went to get food,” a nurse explains, “We’re trying to make sure mentally he’s with us.”
“Oh, for fuck sake!” Dieter cries out, “I’m fine, never felt better! There, she must be my new assistant.”
All eyes turn to you. This was a possibility the doctor had talked about before – temporary amnesia. Hopefully that’s all it is. The doctor motions you to follow him out of the room.
“He seems to have hit his head harder than we thought. In all honesty, I would try to play pretend with him for a little bit. Try thinking of things that might remind him of who he actually is today,” the doctor suggests. “I’m so sorry Mrs. Bravo.”
Dieter is having a conniption in the room while nurses are trying to calm him down. As you step back in, you see your husband frantically disconnecting and throwing the wires off of his body and onto the floor.
“Where the fuck is my assistant?” Dieter yells.
“Dieter, D, baby – Mr. Bravo!” you shout and Dieter immediately freezes, eyes wide as saucers. “You need to calm down before you hurt yourself.”
“What happened?” Dieter asks, looking around at everyone.
“We’ll give you guys some space,” a nurse says quietly while ushering the others out of the room. You grab the chair next to his bed and sit down, reaching for his hand but stopping yourself as you notice your ring. Right now, this isn’t your husband. This is Dieter Bravo who believes it’s the year 2016.
“You were in an accident, you hit your head pretty good,” you start explaining to him, “You’ve been in a coma for two weeks now.”
“So, who are you?” he asks, looking you up and down with a raised eyebrow. “I knew my team wanted to hire me a new assistant since things didn’t work out with the last one – didn’t realize they’d pick someone so hot. Would you wanna have sex with me?”
“Dieter, I don’t think you’re cleared for those types of activities,” you chuckle, “I’m here for whatever you might need though.”
“Can you get me my phone?” he asks with those puppy-dog eyes he does best.
“Sure,” you reach for your purse digging around and find his phone, handing it over to him. “The passcode is 332016”
“The fuck? Why would I change it from the classic 42069?” he asks, looking at you with confusion.
“It’s uh… an important day to you,” you say, looking away, not wanting him to see the tears forming in your eyes. The day you met.
“So, did I have an accident on set?”
“Yeah, you were scaling a building and the cable holding you snapped. You fell a good distance and smacked your head on the ground.”
“Wait,” Dieter says looking at his phone calendar, pointing it towards you, “Why does this say it’s 2024?”
“Because it’s not 2016,” you shrug, “It’s 2024.”
“How long have I been in a fucking coma?” Dieter asks, starting to panic again, frantically searching through the contacts in his phone, “Why can’t I find my dealer's number? I need coke. Wait, you’re my fucking assistant – go get me coke!”
“You’ve only been in a coma for two weeks and the only coke I’ll get you is Coca Cola,” you say crossing your arms, “I won’t let you have drugs in m– the house, Dieter.”
“Wait, my assistant lives with me?” he gasps, “You’re just supposed to come when I call you.”
“Different kind of assistant here.”
“Wait, I can’t have you in my house! I see that ring on your finger – I don’t want to get in between a marriage,” Dieter says, pointing at your left hand.
“It’s– it’s complicated right now,” you shrug.
“Fine, stay in my house, but stay out of my way,” Dieter sighs in frustration.
This is going to be a lot harder than you thought. He doesn’t remember who you are to him. He doesn’t remember getting clean when he married you. He doesn’t remember anything. Going home that night doesn’t help either because Luna wants to know what’s going on with her dad.
“Andy said that daddy woke up!” Luna says vibrating with excitement, “How come he’s not home?
“I had to leave him at the hospital because he’s still sick, honey.” You sit down on the plush couch in the living room, “Come here. I wanna talk to you about something.”
“Okay,” Luna hesitantly says, coming to sit next to you.
“Daddy is still sick. He looks fine but his brain is sick right now.”
“What’s that mean?” she questions, looking at you with the same eyes as her father.
“He doesn’t remember some stuff about his life right now,” you continue, “But we are gonna try to help him get it back. We have to think of the best memories we have with daddy so that maybe he’ll remember better.”
“So, we have to fix daddy?” she asks with tears in her eyes as you grab her into a hug, stroking her hair.
“Yeah, sweet girl, we have to fix daddy,” you say, trying not to cry yourself.
–
What was supposed to only be a few days turned into a week at the hospital. A week of playing Dieter’s assistant and having him boss you around. He was still adamant on getting drugs, but you put your foot down on that one. You weren’t going to let him ruin his seven years of sobriety just because he lost his memory.
“Alright Mr. Bravo looks like you’re all set to leave. Just need you to sign a couple of papers here and then you can be on your way,” the doctor says, handing him the papers.
“Fucking finally,” Dieter groans, “Not that this isn’t a wonderful hospital, but I’d much rather be home.”
“Of course,” the doctor says.
“Will you go ahead and bring the car around? I’d rather not walk too much considering my condition,” Dieter asks, looking at you.
“Of course, D– Mr. Bravo,” you grit through your teeth with the most customer service smile you can muster. That was a new development, Dieter wanting you only to refer to him as Mr. Bravo. You rush out of the room so that it doesn’t blow up into another argument. He’s already tried to fire you twice because of the no drugs thing. You had to make up some story of how you’re in a five-year contract that cannot be broken and tell him three times before he finally bought the story.
Pulling the car around to the front of the hospital, you see him being wheeled out.
“Thank you again so much for taking care of me,” he says, winking at the nurse, “Best care I’ve ever received!”
“No problem at all, Dieter,” she giggles.
“Could I possibly get your number?” Dieter asks, looking expectantly at the nurse after getting settled into the passenger seat of the car. She shakes her head violently.
“No, sorry,” she says before running off wheeling the wheelchair back into the building.
“Well, that was fucking weird,” Dieter says, looking at you. “Did I do something wrong? Most women don’t literally run from me like that.”
“No, Mr. Bravo, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you growl, “Nothing at all.”
You begin to play a song you hope might bring back some sort of memory of you. With all the hope you can muster you hit play and hear Clint Eastwood by Gorillaz, one of the songs you guys would listen to while you got high together. Dieter starts to chuckle listening to the song.
“What?” you snap at him.
“It’s just this song,” Dieter said grinning, “It reminds me of someone.”
“Oh?” you ask, trying not to pry too much hoping he’ll just continue talking.
“Yeah, I can’t remember what her name is, though. Good lay, that’s for damn sure,” he says, laughing a little, “All I remember is she wasn’t even in the business, she’d call me out on all my shit, and we would smoke weed together listening to this song a lot. I think that’s why I liked her. Wonder what she’s up to these days?”
“Oh um… who knows, maybe she’s still in town?” Your heart swells realizing he’s talking about you, that he remembers some remnants of you.
“No way!” Dieter says and sighs, “Way too fucking good for someone like me anyways. Probably found some nice guy, got married, has kids, the whole white picket fence shit and everything. She was way out of my league.”
Pulling up to the house you don’t even know what to say to him. He looks almost defeated in a way and then looks confused when he sees the front door opening.
“Oh no,” you whisper, watching Luna run to the car, “Dieter, wait here. Do not move!”
“Why the fuck are there children at my house?” he asks while you’re getting out, but you shut the door behind you, ignoring him.
“Luna, baby, I need you to go back into the house. Daddy’s sick, remember?” you say, trying to usher her back up the driveway.
“Mommy!” Leo shrieks, running to you.
“Fuck – I mean fudge,” Andy says, frantically running out to the driveway, “I was in the bathroom. She must’ve heard the car, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“The hell is going on here?” Dieter’s voice booms while getting out of the car, “I asked you why there are kids in my house.”
“Da–” Luna starts, but you cut her off.
“You two, inside. Now,” you say, ushering them towards Andy. Once they’re inside you whip around to look at Dieter standing by the car.
“You,” you snarl, walking towards him, “Screw what the doctor said. I’ve had enough of this shit. I’m not your fucking assistant so stop bossing me around. I’m your wife – those two are our children!”
“Wha–” Dieter stares at you with wide eyes, “D– DNA Test, I want a fucking DNA test!”
“Dieter, there isn’t a need for a DNA test because they’re your kids. I mean, did you even look at them?”
“Those are not my kids, they look Latino,” he argues.
“Dieter!” you yell, “You are Latino.”
“Oh, yeah,” he whispers, looking down. “So, you’re my wife?”
“Yes, Dieter, I’m your wife. I’m the girl that would get high with you listening to Clint Eastwood.”
“Wild,” he says looking at the house, the ground below him, the yard, anywhere but you “Wild.”
–
It’s been a week at home now, but Dieter is trying his hardest to regain his memory after you lay everything out on the table for him. You show him pictures of your Las Vegas wedding, your pregnancy photos, the kids’ births – he finally relents to the truth when you show him their birth certificates with his name listed under Father. Luna has been trying to show him drawings that she’s done for him, but nothing is working. Poor Leo just wants to play superheroes, but at just three years old, he doesn’t understand what’s going on at all.
One night, after you put the kids to bed, Dieter comes to your bedroom.
“What if we had sex?” he suggests.
“Dieter, I don’t know if that would be a good idea,” you groan, flopping onto the bed rubbing your eyes.
“I’m just saying, what if we did?” he shrugs, “Was just a suggestion, but I get it.”
“Come here,” you say, patting the spot next to you in bed. He reluctantly sits down next to you as you open your arms as an invitation. “How about we cuddle?”
He nods, setting his head on your chest. You can tell he didn’t know what to do with his hands because he’s so tense. You grab one of them and push it around your back, hoping he’ll understand your silent suggestion.
“Like this?” he whispers, carefully adjusting both arms to wrap around you.
“Just like that,” you hum, stroking the curls at the base of his neck, breathing his scent in for the first time in weeks. Clean laundry, a hint of eucalyptus, and something that’s so specifically Dieter.
“I like this,” Dieter purs, rubbing his head against your chest, “I wish so badly I could just remember everything.”
“I know D, I know,” you sigh, continuing to gently stroke his head, “We’ll get there.”
Dieter moves so his head is in the crook of your neck. You feel his lips begin to place soft kisses against your skin.
“Dieter,” you gasp, turning your head to look at him, “What are you doing?”
“I wanna make you feel better,” he says, giving you those puppy dog eyes you can never refuse. “You’ve had to deal with a lot and this is the only way I know how to try and make things right.”
“Okay,” you whisper, nodding your head. As much as you’ve avoided intimacy with Dieter while his memory was gone, he’s still your Dieter and you miss him.
He starts nipping along your jaw and down your neck. One of his hands moves to your breast gently kneading it. His lips move down your throat to your chest, making his way down to your stomach and pushing your shirt up. He places several kisses around your navel down to the top of your underwear, looking up at you again for confirmation. “It’s okay,” you nod, giving him the go ahead. He peels them off your hips and down your legs, throwing them to the floor.
Without warning he flattens his tongue, licking a stripe up your seam. Working his tongue against your clit and back down to your entrance. Up and down, up and down.
“Fuck, baby, I’ve missed this,” you cry out, running your fingers through his hair, “Feels so fucking good!”
Dieter starts humming, loving the praise you were giving him. His tongue continues circling your bundle of nerves, hoping to hear more words of praise.
“Taste so fucking good,” he says breaking away, “Best pussy I’ve ever had.”
You grip his hair tightly and shove his face back to your core. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you can feel your orgasm approaching.
“Please don’t stop,” you moan, “I’m so fucking close!”
Dieter doubles down his efforts after hearing those words. He’s determined to get you off now. One of his hands makes its way to your center, teasing your entrance before plunging two of his thick fingers inside, curling them up to hit that spot only he’s ever been able to reach.
“Oh, fuck,” you cry out, back arching, “Y– yes, just like that!”
He starts grunting, rutting into the mattress, so badly needing to make you come. He knows you’re close, listening to your breathing and hearing the pitch of your moans.
“D,” you moan, while he grabs your thighs, pulling you unbelievably closer to his face to completely devour you before sliding his fingers back into you. “I’m gonna come!”
“Give it to me, baby, come on,” he says, pulling away panting before diving back in for more, “I need it”. He feels the way your legs begin to shake, your walls fluttering around his fingers.
“Fuck,” you hiss, head thrown back against the pillow closing your eyes, “I– I’m gonna… god.”
Dieter feels your walls constrict around his fingers and hums, collecting your release slowly. He takes his time licking you clean before you push him away, feeling overly sensitive. When you finally open your eyes to look at him, you notice his smile and a glint in his eyes. He crawls back up the length of your body and you grab his face, kissing him deeply tasting yourself on his tongue.
“I can’t believe you married me,” he says, breaking the kiss and wrapping his arms around you again, “Love me forever?”
“Dieter, I’m pretty sure I’ve already proven that I’ll love you forever,” you softly chuckle, beginning to stroke his back.
–
The doctor keeps saying to just be patient, that it’s going to take time for Dieter’s memory to return. But it feels like it’s been forever as another week passes. Everyone is getting frustrated, especially Leo.
“Why is daddy broke?” Leo screams at the top of his lungs, “He no play with me!”
“Leo, Daddy just doesn’t feel good,” you try to explain.
“He no like me!” Leo wails, “He only likes Luna.”
“Leo, daddy does too like you,” you try telling him, “He loves you very much.”
“No,” Leo cries as you scoop him up as he buries his face into your shoulder.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” you soothe.
It wasn’t that Dieter wasn’t trying with the kids, he just didn’t know how. His dad instincts hadn’t been brought back full-force. He was great with Luna – engaged in conversation with her, drew pictures with her, watched her put on fashion shows. With Leo though, he didn’t know how to interact with a toddler. Leo would get upset and Dieter didn’t know what to do besides call you for help. Before Dieter’s accident Leo was his little buddy, followed him everywhere, would play with him for hours being superheroes or whatever Leo decided on that day.
You were able to get Leo to calm down and because of his tantrum he wound up falling asleep. After putting him in his bed for a nap you went to search for Dieter.
“Hey,” you sigh, seeing him standing by the window looking into the backyard.
“Hey,” he says sniffling, wiping his sleeve against his nose, “I’m so sorry.”
“Dieter, I’m not the one you should be saying sorry to. Leo misses you! I know that you’re trying, I do, but I need you to try harder for him,” you sigh, “I can’t pretend that I even know what you’re going through, but our baby boy is hurting because he misses his dad!”
“I know,” Dieter says turning around, you could now see the tears falling down his face, “It’s just… he scares me! It’s easier with Luna because I can understand every word she says, she can show me things, she doesn’t throw a tantrum every five minutes.”
“Dieter, he’s your son! Not some little monster to be scared of! He’s three and doesn’t know any better,” you scold him, “Like I said, I just need you to try.”
“Okay,” Dieter agrees, wiping the tears off his face, “When he wakes up from his nap, I’ll try.”
Dieter could hear Leo awake in his room as he slowly made his way there.
“Dad-Bomb an’ dude-bomb! To rescue!” Leo says, jumping off his bed with a cape around his shoulders. Dieter stands in the doorway observing him. Why did that sound so familiar? Dad-Bomb.
“Hey Leo,” Dieter says cautiously, “What are you playing?”
“Superhero,” Leo smiles, “Want to play with me?”
“Can I?” Dieter exclaims, “I’ve always wanted to be a superhero!”
“Yeah!” Leo shouts, running to his closet to grab something. He comes back out with a big purple cape with D-B on the back, handing it to Dieter. “Put on your cape.”
Dieter pulls the cape around his neck, tying it so it wouldn’t fall off. He notices Leo’s little green cape he was wearing also had D-B on the back.
“Do we have names, Leo?” Dieter asks, “I can’t help but see we have stuff on the back of our super-awesome capes!”
“I’m Dude-Bomb, you’re Dad-Bomb!” Leo gleefully exclaims
“Dad-Bomb?”
“Yeah, like ‘da-bomb’ – means super cool,” Leo giggles.This was starting to feel extremely familiar to Dieter.
Leo scampers off to his closet again, rummaging through it trying to find something. He comes back holding a piece of paper and hands it to Dieter. Dieter holds it up, staring at it. His drawing of Dad-Bomb and Dude-Bomb, fighting crime together, and it all comes rushing back.
“Oh my god, Leo,” Dieter yells.
He picks Leo up, swinging him around. Hearing the commotion, you start running towards Leo’s room fearing the worst. Rounding the corner into the room, you saw Dieter crying, hugging Leo tightly and swinging him back and forth.
“Dad-Bomb and Dude-Bomb!” Dieter exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.
“Yeah, that’s you an’ me!” Leo announces proudly.
“Everything okay?” you ask quietly, looking at both of them.
“Yeah. March 3, 2016 – that’s the day I met you,” Dieter says, tears rolling down his face.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, “Baby.”
“Yeah, baby. It’s all back,” he says, setting Leo back down and rushing to grab you in a tight embrace, “I’m back.”
Aww! Thank you for reading and sharing! ❤️❤️

Softer
Pairing: Joel x F!Reader
Summary: Joel’s feeling a tad self-conscious
Warnings/Tags: Humor, No outbreak AU, Tommy being an asshole in a brotherly way, fluff, pregnancy, sympathetic pregnancy, blended families, strip tease, nothing bad happens to Sarah ever and Ellie's your kid, and I think that’s it?
A/N: Thank you much @strang3lov3, @whocaresstillthelouvre, @jay-zzle for your eyes and Jai also for the moodboard!!! 😍🥰😘
This is for @beefrobeefcal’s Joel Sat on Me challenge! I hope you laugh at this as much as I did writing it 😅
Masterlist||AO3
Divider by @saradika-graphics

The gender reveal/baby shower was going off without a hitch. Maria was making sure people knew where to put gifts, Tommy was helping Joel at the grill, while your mom was helping you put the Boy or Girl banner around you. You hate this kind of attention but Maria and your parents both wanted to make a show of it. Despite your arguments on tradition being only for the first baby.
“Well, it’s you and Joel’s first baby together,” Maria deadpanned, all while your mom nodded along.
“Can’t beat that logic!” Your dad grinned.
“Fine,” you relented, rolling your eyes, “Good thing it’s the last one too.”
Joel smirked, his palm caressing your thigh, “It’ll be fine,” he whispered in your ear, “Least there will be cake,” he added with a shrug. You couldn’t help but laugh.
“Can’t beat that logic!” You reply mockingly, sticking your tongue out.
—
“Mom!” Ellie shouts, “Sarah’s trying to sneak into the cake!”
“Quit being such a narc!” Sarah laughs, playfully smacking Ellie’s arm, “You want to know just as much as I do!”
“Girls!” Joel hollers. “Come help your uncle Tommy set up!”
Both girls walk to the grill, helping Tommy carry hamburgers and hotdogs to the table.
“Alright everyone!” Maria announces, raising her voice to get everyone’s attention. “Let’s eat! Parents-to-be first!”
“Hey momma,” Joel grins, meeting you at the food table and placing a soft kiss on your temple, “What ya in the mood for?”
“More like what is the baby in the mood for?” you grumble, trying to adjust the sash around your body. “I hate this fucking thing,” you hiss.
“Just gotta eat, cut the cake and get through presents then I’ll kick everyone out,” Joel reassures.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you mumble, grabbing a plate and staring at the food. The baby decided it wanted corn on the cob, a burger with all the extras, potato salad, and a small salad with more ranch on it than lettuce.
“Jesus Joel,” Tommy laughed when you both got to one of the tables. “Your woman’s the one eatin’ for two not you!”
Everyone looked at Joel with his plate piled high with two burgers, two hotdogs, and plenty of sides to feed a small army. You saw the flush creeping up his neck as he sat next to you. Joel opened his mouth to say something but Maria interrupted.
“Oh hush,” Maria said, smacking Tommy softly on the shoulder.
“Probably going through that sympathetic pregnancy thing,” a guest piped in. “My husband did that too!”
“Sympathetic pregnancy?” Ellie asked with her mouth full of potato salad. Your mom begins to laugh, shaking her head at Ellie.
“Ellie, gross,” you hiss. “Finish eating before you speak.”
Ellie makes a show of swallowing her food before speaking again. “What the hell is sympathetic pregnancy?”
“Ellie,” you groan. “Language! I haven’t spent the past 13 years raising a hellion!”
“And just think, you’re starting over!” your dad laughs.
Joel, meanwhile, keeps pushing the food around on his plate, taking smaller bites of the sides.
“Okay, googled it!” Sarah announces to the table, wagging her phone and clearing her throat. “Google says, c- cou- nevermind, I’m not even gonna try. Sympathetic pregnancy is a proposed condition in which an expectant father experiences some of the same symptoms and behavior as his pregnant partner. These most often include major weight gain, altered hormone levels, morning nausea, and disturbed sleep patterns.”
“That why you were asking for Pepto the other day at the site?” Tommy asks, nudging Joel’s shoulder before sitting down. “Dealing with some morning sickness as well?”
“Damn it Tommy,” Joel growls, balling up his fist. “If you don’t cut it out-“
“Alright, alright,” Maria hisses. “Enough.” She adds pointing at Tommy.
—
Joel stood in front of the mirror, looking at himself. Marriage had been good to him. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline the moment he got you pregnant. He hadn’t thought about it before but Tommy got in his head. Especially when he announced to everyone at the party it made sense now why Joel had to move his tool belt to the next hole for it to fit.
“Whatcha lookin’ at hot stuff?” You smirk, standing in the doorway of the adjoining bathroom with your toothbrush in hand.
“Thinkin’ I need to go on a diet,” Joel huffs out, turning towards you with his hands on his hips.
“The fuck would you do that for?!”
“Tommy’s ri—“
“I swear if the next words out of your mouth are Tommy’s right.” You pout, trying your best to not let the toothpaste escape your mouth as you move back into the bathroom, spitting into the sink, “I’m gonna kill ‘em.”
Going back to the bedroom, you sit on the edge of the bed, watching Joel find his pajamas for the night. Sure, he’s gotten thicker in the middle since you got pregnant. His pants fit a bit tighter around his thighs. His chest, oh god his chest, the way your hands grip onto the meaty pecs he has now. You make a small noise at the memory of this morning before the girls woke up, and how you rode him as best you could with your swollen belly in the way, slick pooling in your underwear.
“What?” Joel asks, turning to look at you, noticing that feral glint in your eyes. He’s seen it more and more as the months have gone by. Sarah’s mom was nothing compared to you at this stage in pregnancy. Revved up and ready to go 24/7 these days.
“Tommy’s got it totally wrong,” you grin, “I love the way you look these days Joel.”
“Yeah?” Joel smiles shyly, rubbing the back of his neck, turning to face you, “what.. uh.. what about it?”
“Dad bod through and through,” you hum, adjusting on the bed to sit a little further back. “Was thinking about this morning, how I can hold onto your chest a little better with your pecs being a little softer.”
“Yeah?” Joel grins, watching your eyes track his fingers as they open the first couple buttons of his flannel, his chest barely peeking out through the fabric, “Should I put on a show?”
“I wanna see my man!” you let out a breath nodding your head eagerly.
“Feel like we need some music or something,” Joel says, letting out a shy laugh, trailing his palms down the front of his shirt, popping open more of the buttons. You begin humming 70’s porno music, “No thank you, that’s enough.”
You shrug letting out a giggle as he continues unbuttoning his shirt, his strong chest and thick belly being revealed as he rips the flannel shirt back in a dramatic fashion, spreading his legs wide and tilting his head to sway his curls behind him.
“Jesus Christ, Napoleon Dynamite. Ya gonna take it off or what?”
“‘Scuse me?” Joel asks, straightening up, pinning you with a look, pulling his flannel back over his shoulders, “Listen, I’ve never done this for anybody. I’d ‘preciate if ya didn’t make rude comments.”
You clear your throat and lean your arms back against the bedding to prop yourself up, “Sorry, horny goblins took over, proceed.”
With his flannel shirt open, he starts flipping his belt open, stalking towards you, nodding your head at this new development, sliding his belt out quickly from his belt loops causing a gasp to escape your lips.
“Mmmm,” you moan softly, thighs squeezing together, and squirming on the bed “Joel. You look so fucking good like this.”
Joel spins around to show you his backside before slipping one shoulder of the flannel off, turning his head to the side with a smirk as he slowly slides it off his arm, followed by the other. You hear the button and zipper of his jeans sliding down. He begins teasing you with his jeans, dropping them some before pulling them back up and swiveling his hips, he puts one foot on the opposite leg to try and help pull the leg out.
“Fuck!” He yelps, as he falls back sitting on you, “Shit that wasn’t supposed to happen!”
“Ow!” You groan, smacking his ass to get him to move. He rolls off you to lay beside you on the bed.
“You good?” Joel asks, laying on his side next to you, placing his palm on your belly.
“Yeah, I’m good,” you grin, placing your hand on top of his with a sigh. “No Magic Mike in here, but for your first attempt that was good Miller,” you add with a smirk.
“Fuck you,” Joel grins, leaning up to kiss you.
“Fuck. Please!” You groan, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him in for a deeper kiss.
Right?! I don’t understand it either! 🤣
Lies, Excuses and Bullshit

Pairing: Exboyfriend!Dave York x f!Reader
Summary: A man with a double life willing to do anything to keep his obsession around, and a woman who doesn't know what she's gotten herself into.
Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI, go on get! Breaking up, creepy!Dave, infidelity, stalker behavior from Dave, oral(f receiving), spanking, unprotected PIV(make smarter choices), manipulation, and if there is anything I missed please let me know!
A/N: Phew, not sure what happened here. This is a first, I don't usually write darker stuff but something about Dave made it just fly out of my finger tips. This was written for @punkshort's AU August Challenge! Thank you Shortie for letting me be part of the challenge 😊 I need to shout out @beefrobeefcal @strang3lov3 @ozarkthedog and @mothandpidgeon thank you all for the encouragement and lending your eyeballs for this story! ❤️
@jay-zzle, my love, my bestie. This one is for you! 🥰❤️🥰❤️
Masterlist||AO3
divider by @saradika-graphics

You thought things were fine. Dave is the perfect gentleman. It is a complete shock to see this text from your friend. It was a picture of Dave with another woman and two little girls at a soccer game. Maybe it’s his niece's soccer game and he’s just there being a good uncle? Until the next text comes in.
Isn’t that your boyfriend?
Another picture is attached featuring Dave, his arm around the woman. Then another and another and another. More evidence to suggest he is obviously in a relationship with the woman and you are the one left in the dark on this whole situation.
You stopped responding to your friend a while ago, staring at the pictures they sent. Back and forth, memorizing every detail. The way he’s looking at her. The way his arm is around her. The way he’s touching her. The way he kissed her - that was the one that sealed your fate of knowing you had in fact not been seeing a recently divorced man but a married one. Your phone buzzes with another text notification.
D. York: Hey baby, still picking you up at 9 right?
You glare at your phone unsure of what the next step is. Obviously he is cheating on his wife unbeknownst to you. How does somebody even handle something like this? You really liked Dave, you saw a future with him. Your relationship has been going on for months now.
After neglecting to respond your phone buzzes again with another text from the man himself.
D. York: Been thinking about you
You roll your eyes and text him back.
You: Not tonight. Don’t feel good.
D. York: Aw you poor thing. Do you need anything?
You didn’t even have the energy to respond with this new found information rattling around your brain, pressing the button to make your phone sleep and making your way to your bedroom. You plugged your phone in and crawled into bed, ignoring the constant buzz against your nightstand as you tried to drift off. The sun was still out but you couldn’t be awake right now. You needed to shut your brain off and this was the only way you knew how.
There was a pounding on your door when you woke with a startle. The moon casting shadows through the curtains into your room. You checked your phone, seeing the multiple notifications, some from your friends and some from Dave. He’d also tried calling several different times.
D. York: Are you okay?
Did you talk to him yet?
D. York: Do you want some company?
Want me to kick his ass?
D. York: How are you feeling?
What do you plan to say?
D. York: Baby, please answer me. Getting a little worried here.
The pounding on your door continued as you checked your phone. The doorbell camera he insisted on getting for you and installed showed Dave at your doorstep holding a plastic bag, grumbling, you got out of bed and walked towards the door.
“I’m coming. Give it a rest,” you shout, hoping Dave can hear you over his loud knocks.
Sliding the chain lock you open the door.
“Baby,” Dave sighs with relief, “What have you been doing? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours now!”
“I told you, I don’t feel good,” you shrug, “I’ve been sleeping.”
“I’m sorry to wake you, I started to get worried,” Dave says, looking around your living room, “I got you some stuff to hopefully help with whatever bug you’ve seemed to catch.”
You watch as he carefully steps into your space, placing the bag on the coffee table in front of your couch.
“Dave,” you sigh, “I know.”
“Know what?” Dave asks, hands on his hips and shaking his head with a smirk.
“I know you’re still married.”
You see his adam's apple bob as he swallows, flopping back onto the couch, and clasping his hands together. He stays silent for a moment, contemplating what to say next.
“How’d you find out?”
Your eyes widen, not expecting him to fold so easily.
“A friend sent me some photos from today at the soccer field,” you murmur, trying to keep the wavering in your voice to a minimum.
“I see,” Dave says with a nod.
“You also have kids?”
Dave nods again, facing you this time.
“Why?”
“Why what?” Dave scoffs, “Sleep with you?”
“I wouldn’t just call what we’ve been doing as ‘sleeping together,’ Dave,” you say, using your fingers as air quotes when the words sleeping together leave your mouth.
“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Dave chuckles, “I get bored from time to time and like to play with someone new.”
“Your wife know that?” you ask, glaring at him. This man who you thought you knew is showing an entirely different side of himself, and you don’t like it.
“She doesn’t need to know because it’s not a big deal.” Dave sighs exasperated.
“I think it’s best if you left.”
“Alright,” Dave says standing, “If that’s what you want.”
“Yep,” you say with a sharp nod.
“Listen,” Dave says, reaching a hand towards your arm, and you slid your arm back letting him know not to touch you, and he put his hand down beside him, “Okay, well, it’s really not as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be. I like you, I like what we’ve been–”
“Dave, you’re cheating on your wife,” you grit through your teeth interrupting the spiel he was going on, and swung the door open for him, “Leave.”
—
“Fucking take it.” Dave growls in your ear, thrusting his hips harshly into you, “Just like that baby.”
Your moans fill his ears, he can tell you’re close. The way your walls flutter around his length, squeezing him tighter. He can practically taste your climax in the air around him, gripping your hips tighter and angling them so he can get deeper.
“Dave,” you sob, after a particularly harsh thrust. Fingers gripping the sheets beneath you, back arching as you continue to cry out his name.
Dave. Dave. Dave.
“David!”
Dave jumps to the sound of Carol’s voice. Looking around to see he’s in his own bed in his home, not yours.
“Honey, your alarm has been going off for 10 minutes now.”
He lets out a sigh facing his reality, adjusting the hardness in his pajama bottoms. It was just a dream. It’s been months since he’s seen you. You’ve seemed to make your way into his brain at all times of the day, conscious or not.
“I’m gonna get the girls ready but you don’t need to be late for work again,” Carol says, giving him a smile and wink. After last night, he’s not sure how much longer he can do this. He’s been trying to have sex with Carol more. Sure, she’s his wife but she doesn’t scratch the same itch you did.
He’s tried. He’s tried to be a good husband, he’s tried to be a good dad and he’s exhausted. Dave feels himself becoming more of a shell since you told him to leave.
You’ve made it abundantly clear you want nothing to do with him. He tried to reach out to you, only to have his number blocked. You disabled your doorbell camera after he left that night. You must have known he’d try and look at it on his phone, you knew he had the information for your account. Why wouldn’t he try to look?
What you don’t know is that once Carol takes the girls to school, he gets the second phone hidden in the false bottom of a shoe box in his closet that is an exact copy of your own. He can see who you’re texting, where you’re at, how things at work are going, who you’re hanging out with. It’s become an obsession to check it daily.
—
As he steps out of the shower, Carol shouts up the stairs that she’s leaving with the girls, and the front door closes shortly after. Time to start his day.
Getting dressed in his running gear and snatching his headphones from the dresser. He makes his way to the closet. Finding the shoe box with your duplicated phone.
Texts from your friends, a text from your boss and a missed call from your mom. What catches his eye the most is the notification from some jackass on Tinder. James. Scanning James’ profile he’s definitely not your type: blonde hair, green eyes, gelled back hair, and a full beard.
James, 29
Looking for a girl who just wants to have some fun, if it leads to more that’s cool too. I like hiking, graduated from Harvard, hanging with my bros, anything else hmu
Dave shakes his head as he reads the messages shared between the two of you. He scans reading hellos, good nights, sharing random facts about each other, until he stumbles upon the most recent messages
James: Hello gorgeous 😉
Hello 😊
James: So I’ve been thinking would you wanna meet up? Go get a drink or something?
Sure! 7 good?
James: Awesome! Yeah. Do you know where Sal’s is?
I do! It’s not far from my job
James: Perfect! I’ll see ya then beautiful
No. No way in hell is this James guy meeting up with you. Dave calls the office letting them know he’s taking a personal day, he has some business to take care of.
—
Sal’s is exactly what you expected it to be. Dark, dingey, and small. Not too crowded thankfully, it’s definitely got character though. The random decor on the wall is confusing. You can’t tell if this is supposed to be a sports or a punk bar with the random band posters on the wall along with sports jerseys next to them.
Making your way to the bar you sit down on a stool, flagging down the bartender.
“What’s your poison for the night?” He asks, wiping his hands on the towel he was carrying.
“Jack and Coke,” you say, slipping your hand into your bag to get your wallet out. He makes quick work of mixing the drink and placing it in front of you, handing over your card while you hear the jingle of the door.
“Starting a tab?” The bartender asks, swiping your card.
“No, thank you,” you smile as he hands your card back to you, putting it back in your wallet.
Out of the corner of your eye you can see someone standing a couple stools away. Looking down at your drink, moving the straw around before taking a drink. You take a peek at your watch to see it’s 10 minutes before you’re supposed to meet James.
Maybe this was a bad idea, you haven’t had to do this in months. It was easier when Dave just kind of fell into your life.
“Whiskey on the rocks.”
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up when you heard the familiar timber of his voice, head snapping to look at him. Dave. His smirk as he waits on his drink says it all, he knew you would be here. Was he James?
“Are you fucking serious?” You hiss through your teeth.
Dave thanks the bartender, moving closer to you.
“I come in peace,” Dave says, sitting in the stool one away from you, “All I want to do is talk.”
“Are you James?” You ask through clenched teeth, glaring at him.
“Oh baby,” Dave tuts, “I’m not James, he’s very real.”
You continue to glare at him. Unable to force your brain to work with your limbs on moving, leaving, throwing your drink on him. Anything other than sitting here being in his presence.
“He wasn’t hard to convince to leave you alone though,” Dave looks at you with a smirk, one eyebrow raised and begins to chuckle, “One mention of snapping any finger that touches you sent him running.”
You try to swallow but your throat feels like a desert, gripping the tumbler in front of you and taking a swig. Did he… did he do something to James? Surely not, Dave wouldn’t even kill the spider that appeared in your apartment one day, scooped it up and took it outside. How could he cause harm to anything?
“Dave did you…” pausing pondering how to even ask the question.
“Did I hurt him?” Dave asks, scooting to the stool next to you and leaning in closer, invading your space and you nod your head, “No, just made it known what’s mine.”
You let out a sharp gasp at his words, arousal seeping into the gusset of your underwear, thighs clenching together at his closeness, feeling goosebumps erupt across your skin. This shouldn’t be happening but your body thinks otherwise.
“I’ve missed you baby,” Dave hums into your ear, “Don’t like how we ended things.”
The way he says it has the ice around your heart melting. You hate him but can’t help the way your heart betrays your brain at his words. Dave lets out a small growl, gripping your bare thigh beneath the bar top possessively.
“I’m staying in a hotel room tonight,” he says, the grip on your thigh becoming less and smoothing his hand against your inner thigh. Gliding his hand up, up, up. Pinky finger playing with the edge of your underwear under your skirt.
You grab his hand and pull it away from your core, bringing it to rest on your lap. Lacing your fingers with his, while his thumb rubs along your palm. You sigh, contemplating what to do. Go with him or send him packing like last time. The devil on your shoulder telling you to go with him, it’s just stress relief, it won’t- it can’t mean anything, he knows your body better than anyone else. The angel on the other side just repeating the same words, he’s still married.
In the words of your mother, if he doesn’t cheat with you then he’ll just find someone else. Might as well have fun.
“I’ve missed you too,” you confess with a soft whimper in his ear. Finally seeing him again after months of nothing has your practical sense crumbling.
“Let’s go then,” Dave smirks, standing pulling your hand slightly to stand with him and leave.
—
Dave drove like a bat out of hell to the hotel, dragged you to the elevator and his room as if this was his last chance to have you. Clothes flying off the moment you crossed the threshold of the room.
“Dave,” you moan, his lips ghosting down your neck to your collarbone. His hands grip your ass, pulling you flush against his front, feeling his erection against your stomach.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he groans, his mouth sucking the flesh of your breast, capturing your nipple in his mouth and giving it a nip. A whine escapes past your lips at the sudden pressure of his teeth, moving your body with him until you feel the back of your knees hit the bed.
Dave releases your nipple, pushing himself against you to lay back on the bed, making room for himself between your thighs. His dark eyes swimming with lust study your face. His hand comes to rest on your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek.
“Why’d you let me leave like that?” His voice barely a whisper, lying his forehead against your own.
“You’re married,” you wince hearing the words leave your throat. You shouldn’t be doing this.
“I can change that,” he smirks with a chuckle, kissing the corner of your mouth, “I’d leave if it meant you’d stay,” kissing your jaw, “I’d spend every single day of my life making you happy,” he coos, trailing his lips down to your neck, laving his tongue against your pulse point.
“Dave,” you plead, hoping to stop his words. You don’t want to hear this, it’s all lies to get you to stay. The ache between your thighs begging for more.
“Mean it baby,” Dave says with a hum, mouth traveling down the expanse of your body, “Only want you,” he breathes when his face inches away from your sex, “Looks like you want me too,” he teases.
You feel the warmth spreading through your body as he sighs using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, staring at your glistening slit.
“Oh yeah, she’s definitely missed me,” he hums, flicking his tongue against your clit.
“Dave,” you gasp, gripping the sheets between your fingers. He works his tongue along your bundle of nerves swirling and sucking.
“God I’ve missed this pussy,” Dave growls, gripping your hips tightly before fucking you with his tongue.
“Fuck,” you moan, back arching off the bed. The fire in your abdomen grows more intense. You reach for one of his hands, linking your fingers with his. His other hand moving, fingers prodding at your entrance.
“Please,” you beg, “Dave, pl- please. More, I- I need m-“, you cry out when his fingers plunge into your cunt. Swiftly curling them inside you as he moves the pads of his fingers back and forth putting delicious pressure against your g-spot.
“That’s it baby,” Dave groans, nipping your inner thigh, “Let me have it.”
Your toes curl feeling the coil in your lower belly tightening, leaning your head up to watch him. He looks as wrecked as you feel as he rapidly flits his tongue against your clit. His brows furrowed in concentration as he worked his mouth and fingers in sync for you to reach your climax, his lips shiny from your arousal. He opens his eyes to see your mouth hung open in a silent scream, brows pinched together as you pant looking into his eyes.
“Dave,” you pant, “Baby, I’m gonna come.”
Your walls clamp down on his fingers as you stare into his dark orbs. White hot heat spreads throughout your body, letting out a soft shriek.
“Flip over,” Dave instructs, moving your pliable limbs so you’re on your stomach. You cry out as he pushes his cock into you sharply.
“Fuck.”
“Shhh,” Dave tuts, “It’s okay baby, you can take it.”
You whine, it feels like he’s splitting you in two, walls gripping his length. He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust before he’s roughly snapping his hips into you.
“Make you mine again,” Dave grunts, “No one else deserves you.”
The pain quickly turns into pleasure as he works his cock in and out. The sound of your squelching pussy filling your ears as strangled noises crawl up your throat.
“God damn baby,” Dave hisses, tilting your hips up as he grinds his hips into you, hitting that spot deep inside only he’s been able to reach.
“Missed this so,” he grunts, slapping your ass, “Fucking,” another slap against your skin, “Much,” another harsh slap before soothing the marks he’s left with his palm.
“Dave,” you let out a choked sob, feeling the pleasure building, thrusting your hips back into him, “Faster.”
“Dirty girl,” Dave hums, gripping your hips again, pounding into your pussy at a frantic pace, “You gonna- oh fuck- come again?”
You can only nod your head weakly, feeling the sizzling pressure in your abdomen start to boil over. Your walls spasming and contracting around his cock. The muscles in your legs tensing before screaming out.
“Oh fuck,” Dave moans, “That’s it baby. Come on my cock. Just like that.”
Dave leans over caging you between his arms, thrusting into your wet heat a half a dozen times before his hips start to lose rhythm and going still, your name tumbling from his lips, letting your walls milk his cock feeling the warmth of his seed paint your walls.
“I really have missed you,” Dave admits slumping against you with a sigh, “So fucking much.”
He kisses your shoulder before pulling out with a hiss. You groan feeling the emptiness before he helps you up, guiding you to the bathroom.
You shower together, taking time to wash each other with delicate touches, and sharing intimate kisses before crawling back into bed with his arms wrapped around you.
You wake sometime in the middle of the night. Dave’s snoring beside you, finding your phone amongst your belongings scattered around the room, you make your way to the bathroom. Looking at Dave sleeping so peacefully from the doorway of the bathroom you can’t help feeling torn. You loved him, still do if you’re being honest with yourself, but this isn’t what you two should be doing.
You find an uber available and schedule to be picked up. Quietly making your way out of the bathroom and grabbing your things when you hear two identical dings. One from your hand and one from Dave’s bag. Slipping your clothes back on you slowly wander over to his things. Rummaging around until you find a phone, similar to yours. Pushing the button on the side you see a notification for an Uber 5 minutes away, looking at your own phone to see it displaying the same.
“What the fuck?” You whisper to yourself, head snapping to look at Dave hoping you didn’t wake him. You look around to find a pen and piece of paper.
—
Dave wakes the next morning with a smile, remembering what happened last night. Sliding his hand to where you should be, feeling the cool sheets under his palm, peeking an eye open to see the empty spot next to him.
He listens closely to his surroundings, hoping to hear the shower but is met only with silence. Frowning as he sits up, scrubbing his hands against his face trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. Looking around the room for any sign of you, taking note of your things being gone.
He sees a folded piece of paper lying on top of something on the dresser. Dave gets up to inspect what it is. His name is on the paper, sitting on top of two phones. Immediately recognizing one as yours and the other the duplicate he had made. His eyes scan the note you left, unable to believe what he was reading.
You’ll never be anything but a lying, cheating, manipulative douchebag. Figure your shit out. Don’t ever reach out to me again.
Dave’s hand curls into a fist as he reads the note over and over again. You left. You really left and this time it’s going to be even harder to find you.
He smirks, shaking his head as he collapses on the edge of the bed. You must not realize how much he loves a challenge.