#babydaddy!Chris

[m00nl1ghts1vt]

Mama - Chris Sturniolo

Part One - Positive Pairings - babydaddy!Chris x fem!Reader Summary - Chris attends your first ultrasound with you, and when you realize you have to have transvaginal, he’s there to comfort you. Warnings - established relationship, uncomfortable situation??, a lil fluff, first pregnancy appointment, mentions of pregnancy W/c - 1774 A/n - Serving more babydaddy!Chris content 🫡 I hope everyone likes it. This will be a series 🥰 (Also haven't proofread this all the way so forgive me for mistakes) Masterlist Current Series - City of Love II Top Liked - Pierced II Most Recent - Alright, I Love You

“Arrived,” Siri sounded through the speakers of your car as you pulled into the parking lot of your gynecologist's office. You and Chris were at your first appointment, you know, the one that confirms the pregnancy.

Swearing to secrecy until you got the first sonogram, neither of you had told anyone, not even family. It was hard keeping such a big secret from Matt and Nick, especially since you were at their house all the time, you practically lived there. It was even harder for Chris because he never kept anything from them. He wanted them to be surprised, but he was also more nervous than he had ever been, thinking they’d judge him. I mean, who wouldn’t? You and Chris had only been in a relationship for a little over six months, and six months seemed way too soon to bring a new life into this world. Your relationship being in the public eye was not something you planned this soon either - three months in, you and Chris were spotted out after dinner. A few fans stopped him to take pictures, you thought you did a good job at blending in the background, but you couldn’t be more wrong. The next morning, everyone knew who you were, forcing the two of you to ‘out’ your relationship a few days later. 

After finding a parking spot, you shift your car into park and let out a long sigh. Chris’s eyes shift to you, “it won’t be that bad.” He shoots you a goofy smile, trying to enlighten the mood. “I know,” you scrunch your face, “I’m just nervous.”

Nervous was in understatement. Your gut had been turning ever since you saw the positive pregnancy test, and your nausea didn’t decrease a bit. You watch as Chris brings his hand to yours and interlocks your fingers, bringing your hand up to his mouth to plant a soft kiss on it. Redness creeps to your cheeks and you press your lips together, he always knew how to ease your worries. You were lucky you could rely on him in vulnerable times like this.

“Its gonna be okay,” he tells you in a reassuring tone, “nothing to worry about,” before placing another peck on the back of your hand. Collecting your thoughts for a minute before exiting the car, you enter the building together, heading straight for the elevator. This was your regular gyno, so you knew exactly what floor to go to. You press the button for the fourth floor, watching it light up as your heart pumps at a rapid pace. Knowing you were about to see your baby for the first time gave you an indescribable feeling. You were nervous, excited, and shocked all at the same time. Life felt like a fever dream since you found out. 

Ding!

The elevator chimes, indicating you’re at your chosen floor. You and Chris approach the front desk with the same pace, slow and sluggish. Chris felt more out of place than you did but he told himself he was there to support you every step of the way. He knew bringing a baby into this world was going to be a life changing experience for the both of you, but he still had a hard time wrapping his head around the fact you were actually pregnant with his baby. He worried about so many things - telling his family, telling the world, if he'd be a good dad, if you'd be a good mom. And if he was being completely honest, he feared having a baby would put too much pressure on your relationship. That didn't stop him from stepping up and supporting you every step of the way, though.

Checking in and filling out papers, the nurse calls you back fairly quickly. The two of you get settled in a room, not saying a word to each other, only exchanging a few toothless smiles here and there. Before the nurse steps out she hands you a gown, “you’ll need to change into this before the doctor comes in.”

You quickly change into the hospital gown and sit back down in the bed, “I’m so scared,” you groan, running a hand through your hair. Chris had been rummaging through the cabinets since he entered the room, currently blowing up a glove like it was a balloon. 

“Nothing to be scared of mama,” he coos, taking the glove from his lips, and quickly tying it. Chris knew being a goofball was the quickest way to make you laugh, and as long as he kept you laughing, he knew you weren’t overthinking. You snort at him, “Mama?” making fun of the new nickname. He playfully knits his brows together, “what's wrong with that? I mean, I can call you my baby momma if you want,” he laughs, a smirk stretches across his lips before he flings the hand shaped balloon at you. 

“It’s not funny, Chris! They’re gonna stick something up my coochie,” you groan. He raises his eyebrows, obviously concerned. “Up your cooch-,” he blurts out before getting cut off by a light knock on the door. You quickly bat his glove balloon away and call out, “come in!”

Your gynecologist opens the door and pokes her head in, “Goodmorning!” She had a bright aura about her that made every room warm when she entered it, which was one of the reasons she was your doctor. You knew you were in good hands when it came to her. “So, I see you’re here to confirm your pregnancy,” she beams. Your eyes drift to Chris and back to her, nodding slightly and giving her a polite smile. 

She takes a seat on the stool next to your bed, “well, on your paperwork it says you were about five days late when you tested positive which means we’ll have to do a transvaginal ultrasound.” You watch as she picks up a wand-like probe, your eyes widening at the sight of it, “don’t worry, it’s not as bad as it seems. We only do this when women are early on in their pregnancies, to get a better image of the fetus. Once you're 10 weeks, you'll get the abdominal scan, which is on your belly,” she explains in a cool tone.

“So, she won’t have to do it again?” Chris chimes in, clearly worried for you. Your gyno looks over at him, “you're dad?” Chris nods his head almost immediately, making a smile pull at your lips. It was cute how concerned he was, and it was even cuter how quick he was to take on the role of daddy. “Well, dad, no she won’t have to do this again and it shouldn’t be painful, just a bit uncomfortable,” she reassures the both of you. Chris nods, “okay, good,” mumbling quietly before scooting his chair closer to the bed, "cause that thing look scary."

The doctor gets you prepped, putting your feet in stirrups, spreading lubricant across the device, and pressing a few buttons on the keyboard in front of her.

“Now, you’ll feel a little pressure. Just let me know if it's painful or not,” she tells you before inserting the probe into you slowly. Your face contorts in discomfort, Chris noticing quickly, taking your hand in his, and stroking it with his thumb. “Feeling okay?” the doctor asks from the most awkward position, in between your legs. “Definitely uncomfortable,” you tell her honestly, making her chuckle. “No pain, right?” she questions, making you shake your head, “no. No pain.”

Your response makes your boyfriend lean in to place a comforting kiss on your temple, “doing so good mama.” Chris had always been very attentive, showering you with random compliments, kisses, and gifts. Ever since he found out about your pregnancy, not only was he waiting on you hand and food, but he also became extremely clingy. Something about knowing you were growing a mini version of him made his feelings for you stronger, if he wasn’t in love before, he certainly was now. In his mind, your relationship was pretty fast paced for only being together for six months. Sex was given, but the two of you already shared the first ‘I love you’s, and were practically attached at the hip. He was your best friend and boyfriend all-in-one. Though, your fast paced relationship scared the absolute shit out of him, it wasn't going to make him walk out on you or his baby. 

The room falls to an awkward silence, only the sounds of the doctors tapping away at buttons on her monitor. "Sorry, just trying to get a good picture," she tells you. Your eyes glued to the screen, not wanting to miss the first appearance of your future child in the slightest. Anticipation boils in your stomach and your heart thumps furiously in your chest, knowing you're about to see the new growing being inside of you, the one that had been making you cry and throw up nonstop the last couple weeks. Looking up at Chris, his expression is the same, fixated on the screen. "There we go," the doctor chuckles, "you have a stubborn one. Every time I'd get close, they'd move." You watch as the image of your little, tiny bean pops up on the screen, the fast heartbeat sounding out of the speakers as she turns the volume up and zooms in. Suddenly, all the worries and questions running rampant through your mind disappeared for a moment, and it was the same for Chris.

The inexpressible feeling lays deep in your chest and tear brim your water line. "Awe," Chris coos, "he looks like lil peanut," his eyes filling with lust as he tears his eyes from the screen to look at you. His comment earns a giggle from you, the baby did look like a little peanut, but the fact he was already manifesting a baby boy made your heart flutter. You blink away the tears, and suck in a breath, "looks like you're measuring at a little over seven weeks. Seems pretty accurate to me since you dated your last period, but at your next appointment you'll get confirmation on how far along you are."

Chris nods, watching the doctor print out copies of the sonogram, "is there any way we can get extra copies?" She gets you situated, letting you fix yourself, "Of course, how many?" You watch as Chris holds up his fingers to count, "like ten. If that's okay."

"We don't need that many," you snort, sitting up in the bed. Chris playfully scoffs at you, "yes we do. Our baby is gonna be so loved."

🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @unknvhx @m11rx @ribread03 @thepubeburgler @loveparqdise @emely9274 (if anyone else wants on my tag list, just let me know!!)

If your tags aren't popping up, please make sure you have them turned on so you will get notified when I post. I don't want anyone to think I'm trying to be rude by not tagging when they asked ☹️

[cvnntagious]

:: babydaddy!matt doesn't like your attitude

"this's what you wanted, huh?" matt spoke through gitted teeth, fingers digging into your hips as his own snapped to meet them, "actin' like a fuckin' prick all day f'some dick."

you whined, practically drooling beneath him. he was practically cradling you as his dick massaged your insides with an intense rigor. "matt-!" your plea came out in a high pitched moan, causing a small grin to tug at matt's pink lips.

he'd only just gotten started with you, but when he felt your walls fluttering around him as you trembled, he knew you were close. "what, baby, can't take it anymore?" he asked in a cocky tone, ego growing with each submissive noise you gave him.

matt got off on the idea of fucking that salty little attitude out of you, tired of you always finding reasons to argue with him. it was always 'mazzy can't do this,' and 'i don't trust that'. all he wanted was for you to stop bitchin' and complainin' all the time— he wanted you to just slobber all over yourself, repeating his name like a prayer.

his hand reached between your bodies, thumb moving to rub tight circles on your clit. you couldn't help the way your grasp on his biceps tightened, your pussy threatening to explode all over him. "matt, gonna- gonna cum," you warned, back arching off his mattress with curled toes.

you'd tried so hard to be good for him, holding off on cumming without his express permission after giving in to the way he handled you and your pissy words what felt like a few moments prior. you just couldn't. you felt your body shake in an almost violent manner, matt not giving up in his relentless pace when he felt you cream around him.

your moans and his groans filled the room (and most likely the house), making the two of you grateful for chris and nick having taken mazzy to the park.

w/c : ?

a/n : divider by issysh3ll

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

[tittyinfinity]

I think Chris Pratt should be locked in a tiny enclosure inside of a grocery store

[mattslolita]

okay so idk if you’re taking request cs if ur not im soo sorry but i CRAVEEEE toxic babydaddy chris or matt like imagine yall imagine😔🙌🏾

dilemma - c. sturniolo

in which ... you can't stand chris's new girl in the picture, and you both realize how much you miss each other especially for your daughter. ( baby daddy!chris x black!fem reader )

warnings : angst, toxic!baby daddy!chris, crying, smut, riding, nipple play, unprotected piv ( wrap it freaks ), fluff in the end :3

"𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊 𝒅𝒐, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ

"alaijah baby, i need you to stay still, please!" you pleaded with your daughter, attempting to grip her unruly curls as she brushed her hair softly.

"mama, when daddy coming?" alaijah babbles, a soft smile on her face as she toys with the bottle of hairspray on the bed which keeps causing her to move around.

a lump forms in your throat at the question, but you attempt to give her a tight-lipped smile anyway. "I'm dropping you off my love, remember? we're getting ice cream on the way."

"ice cweam!" alaijah giggles excitedly, causing her to topple over the oil sheen which tumbles off the bed.

you groan and shake your head, losing the grip you had on her ponytail as you bent down to pick up the oil sheen — the thing that annoyed you was the fact that if it was her dad combing her hair, she was obedient with him. she never gave him problems when he was the one doing her hair, and it made you frustrated.

after picking the bottle up and setting it back down on the bed, you opened candy crush saga on your phone and handed it to your one year old girl, who happily took your phone and sat snug in between your legs.

with a satisfied smile, you begin to brush her hair again, thankfully having no more problems — that is, until your phone rings and you look down to see alaijah's dad trying to facetime you.

"daddy!" alaijah shrieks, a huge smile breaking out over her face.

you didn't want to talk to him, but you weren't going to deprive your daughter — so against your better judgement, you swipe up and accept the call.

"lay, hi sweetheart!" chris smiles at his daughter through the screen, and internally making your heart melt.

"daddy! hi!" alaijah giggles, scrunching her nose cutely as she waves at him through the screen, "miss you!"

"i miss you too, angel," chris says, his beam even brighter at the sight of her, "you ready for this weekend?"

"yah!" alaijah nods happily, poking at the phone, "daddy, say hi to mommy!"

rolling your eyes, you try to move yourself out of the camera's lens especially when you see chris's smug smile on the screen. "hi, momma."

you make a stank face at him and continue doing alaijah's hair, but the one year old makes a pouty face at you when she realizes you didn't answer him.

"mommy, daddy said hi!" alaijah presses, causing you to let out a sigh.

"yeah, daddy says hi," chris smirks, and you can feel your cheeks warm up despite the unwillingness of it all.

"yeah, hey," you said sharply, shooting him a glare through the screen as you're now getting started on alaijah's baby hairs.

"c'mon y/n/n, be a little nicer to daddy," chris continues, causing alaijah to giggle and you to groan.

you put your hands over alaijah's ears gauging a confused expression from her. "shut the fuck up, christopher."

chris just laughs and shakes his head as you uncover alaijah's ears, and she continues to look down at the screen excitedly — you continue watching as your daughter and chris talk for a little bit more, and you can't help but smile a few times at the way chris looked at her with so much love and admiration. it makes you wish you two had never broken up, otherwise you would've been a real family.

you pulled up to chris's house and sighed, looking at alaijah in the rearview mirror — she grinned at you excitedly as she seen that you both had arrived at her dad's house.

you quickly get out of the driver's seat of your car and open the back door on that side, unbuckling alaijah from her car seat and picking her up.

"daddy house!" alaijah beams excitedly, as you close the car door and move to the trunk where her overnight bag was.

"yes, are you excited baby?" you ask her with a smile, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, and she nodded with a giggle.

her overnight bag was on your shoulder and you internally groaned as you made your way towards the front door of his house — alaijah immediately reached out to press the doorbell, and you could feel her excited nerves radiating from her which made you smile at her again.

you almost dropped your daughter from your hands when you saw what opened the door — a blonde woman who looked to be your age, dressed in skimpy ass clothing which had you heated. you could tell she had extensions in her hair, and you scoffed at how cheap they looked.

"can i help you?" she snarks with an attitude, a hand on her hip as she gives you a once over.

"i know damn well this bitch is not..." you scoff, shaking your head, then looking back up at her, "girl, i'm here to drop off his daughter. who the fuck is you?"

"i'm his girlfriend," she says, boastful smirk on her face, and your heart drops and your face visibly hardens at this.

"did i ask, hoe?" you say to her, taking a step closer causing her to step back slightly, "get the fuck out my way before-"

"what's going on?" chris's voice suddenly comes, causing your blood to boil. damn, he looked so fine.

"you better check your bitch before i do," you say to him, causing the blonde girl to narrow her eyes at you as chris pushes her to the side.

"daddy!" alaijah says excitedly, reaching her arms out for him.

"hi baby!" chris coos to his daughter, taking her from your arms as he brings her close to him, "i missed you!"

you watch the sweet interaction with a yearning heart, but you seeth when you see the way the blonde girl looks at him with just as much adoration as you do — chris looks between both of you with an amused expression, and you could just give him a right hook right now.

"look, my daughter's here, can you both not come for each other?" chris says with raised eyebrows.

you fully turn to face him now, crossing your arms over your chest. he takes your figure up and down unashamedly, and you try to keep yourself from smirking as you realize you still had that effect on him. "that broad better not go nowhere near my baby, christopher."

"still using that full name on me?" chris scoffs with an amused smile, shaking his head. "i'll see you sunday night, alright?"

you quickly leaned up towards alaijah to press a kiss to her cheek, caressing it as she smiled at you. "i'll see you soon baby, okay? have fun."

"bye mommy, i love you!" alaijah tells you.

"i love you more."

without waiting for anyone to say anything else, you make your way towards your car, giving your hips a little extra sway as you knew chris would be drooling as he watched you walk away. you were proven right when you went to get in your car and chris had definitely been watching after you. you smirked as the blonde girl gave him a look of disbelief at the action, and you drove away, still feeling angry upon seeing her in the first place.

sunday night couldn't have come fast enough — you were bored and somewhat lonely without the comfort of your daughter with you, but you were able to run a few errands.

chris texted you and told you he would drop alaijah back off at your house, and you scoffed and only replied with an "ok." you knew it would piss him off, but how could he be the one upset?

soon, a familiar engine lowly rumbled outside of your house and you felt somewhat nervous because you knew it was chris. you heard the car door open then close, and footsteps slowly approach your porch until a knock on the door sounded.

almost too quickly you answered, and your heart warmed at the sight of chris holding your daughter in his arms tightly, her head laid on his neck with her eyes closed.

"she's asleep," chris said, swiping at his nose then nodding towards her, "can i go lay her down?"

you nodded wordlessly, stepping aside so that chris could walk in with her. he knows your house like that back of his hand ( nevermind the fact he used to live there with you! ) — he makes his way to your room, but you don't follow him.

instead, you cross your arms and sit at a barstool at your kitchen table, tapping her fingers along your arm as you wait the treacherous minutes it takes for your ex boyfriend to say his goodbyes to his daughter.

he emerges from your used to be shared room and grins at you, causing you to narrow your eyes at him. "what the fuck are you looking at?"

"i know you're still mad, y/n," chris shrugs nonchalantly, taking slow deliberate steps towards you.

"boy what are you talking about?" you say with a roll of your eyes, crossing her arms tighter on your chest.

"you're mad about lexi," chris says, egging it on, as he knows you're seething right now.

"oh, so the bitch got a name now, too?" you say, scoffing and shaking your head.

"you mad cause i'm fucking another bitch?" chris smirks, and you whip your head up at him at this remark.

without any warning, you stand up and quickly walk over to chris, yanking him by the arm and pulling him towards the couch in the living room — she shoves the man back on it, immediately going to straddle him as he looks up at her with a smirk and an amusement in his eyes.

"y'know lay's asleep, right?" chris tsks, rubbing the sides of her bare thighs which caused goosebumps to raise on her skin.

"then you better shut the fuck up," you say.

you smashed your lips onto chris's, having been craving this feeling again for so long — his hands immediately went to grope your ass which prompted a gasp to leave your lips and chris to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

you grinded down against his hard on, which you felt poking through his jeans as it so desperately wanted to be free. never breaking eye contact with him, you lifted your his shirt above your head and threw it behind you, and chris went to unclip your bra causing your perfectly round breasts to spill out.

"fuck, i missed seeing your pretty tits, ma," chris groans, immediately attaching his lips to your left tit whilst he massages the other.

"mhm chris," you breathe out, throwing your head back as he switches, giving attention to the other tit.

you grind down on him again, making the both of you moan at the contact. "pull your pants down."

you get up and take your shorts off, also giving chris enough time to slip out of his jeans and boxers, revealing his large, veiny cock which already leaked with precum — your mouth salivates at the sight.

you pull down your panties revealing your wet cunt, to which chris lets out a groan and strokes himself, but you narrow your eyes at him and smack his hand away, going to hover over his cock.

your hands find their way to chris's shoulders, latching onto them as you slowly sink yourself onto him, pulling a moan from the both of you.

"fuck, you're so big!" you whine, the stretch burning being that you haven't felt him inside you in a long time.

"so tight baby," chris groans in your ear, guiding you with his hands.

once he's fully inside you, you begin to move back and forth on his cock, the veins in his hands now prominent with the grip he held on your sides. "fuck baby, just like that!"

"you feel so good, oh my gosh," you moan out, throwing your head as you pick up your rhythm, bouncing up and down on his cock.

chris meets you halfway, thrusting up into you pulling multiple whines from you as he hits your sweet spot over and over again.

"fucking me so good ma, i missed your pussy," chris moans, leaving sloppy kisses to your neck.

"m'close, christopher," you moan out, keeping your steady pace.

"yeah?" chris groans in your ear, "come on baby, let go fa me."

it doesn't take you long before your orgasm comes crashing through you, your juices spilling over chris's cock and a loud moan of his name falls past your lips.

this sends him over the edge too, and hot spurts of his seed spill inside of you, mixing your juices together. he helps both of you ride out your orgasm, then you quickly get off of him to catch your breath.

he pulls you back towards him and shoves a finger inside your pussy to keep his cum in there, eliciting a gasp from you as you look at him with disbelief whilst he grins at you.

"what the fuck?" you gasp out.

"need my seed inside you, so you know who's yours," chris grins at you.

he takes his finger out then stands up, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the bathroom — he wordlessly grabs a towel and wets it, and you can feel tears from in your eyes as he does so.

none of this meant it was going to last long — he was going right back to the same boyfriend he was before, which was the ultimate reason you broke up in the first place. but you couldn't help the way you still loved him.

"please don't cry," chris says, breaking you out of the trance you didn't realize you were in.

"why shouldn't i, chris?" you sniffle, as he wipes your legs delicately, "it's not like we're getting back together."

chris could feel his heart break at the words you said, causing him to hang his head — it was his fault, and he couldn't believe he'd ever let someone like you go. he was so scared of fucking up, that he fucked up the best thing that ever happened to him.

"i miss you," you admit.

"i missed you even more, y/n," chris says, lifting your chin so that you could see in his eyes. and for once, there was a trace of sincerity in those blue depths. "i can't believe i broke our family up like this. i fucked up really bad, baby. but i want us to be a family."

"you mean that, baby?" you look up at him with a smile, and he wipes the tears away from your eyes, nodding.

"of course, ma. i love you so much."

he leans down and places a kiss to your lips — but this time it was sweet, but yearning. he missed both of his girls, and he was glad he had them back.

after cleaning you up chris grabs your hand again and leads you towards the bedroom, where alaijah is sound asleep in the middle of where you both used to lay.

you climb on side and chris on the other, and as if sensing the presence of her dad, alaijah moves towards chris like a magnetic touch, and he puts his arm around his daughter looking down at her with nothing but love and admiration.

you smile at him with your head propped up on the pillow, and he looks at you — he affectionately taps your nose, causing you to giggle as you take his hand, placing a soft kiss to it.

"goodnight, baby," you tell him, and he leans in to place another kiss to your lips.

"goodnight, my love," chris says back.

you get under the covers with them, moving close towards alaijah in the process to wrap your own arm around the girl, too — chris places another sweet kiss to both of your foreheads, finally at peace knowing he was with his number one girls again.

( lilly's section 💌 )

two fics in one night, who is she😳🙏? i hope y'all enjoy this, i love u so much muah💌.

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @prettiest-poision @mattsturniolosleftnut @mrssturnioloo @guccifrog @junnniiieee07 @astrowh0r3 @v33angel @ilovechrissturniolo1 @e1ias3 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @eyeliketoeatpoosay @sturn777 @stasiesturn @prettypinkprincess15 @breeloveschris @summerssover @mayhem-72 @riasturns @chrissturniolossidehoe @moonk1ss3d @v33angel @h3arts4harry @stargirll567 @bitchydragonparadise @heartsforchrisandmatt @pepsienthusiasts @tillies33ssss @thenickgirl @sturnprime @summerssover @k4di333

[tastesousweet]

sturniolotriplets.zip

fic flags! 🍪 fluff / 🍦smut / 🍡 angst

★ matthew.jpeg

blurbs

toxic babydaddy! matt hcs - 🍡🍪

one shots

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series

the girl with the tattoo: 🍪🍦🍡 pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6 p7 p8 p9 p10 p11

grumpy!tattooartist!matt x sunshine!poc!reader

★ christopher.png

blurbs

texts w/ bf!chris - 🍪

frat boy chris x bitchy reader - 🍡🍪 (?)

one shots

vampire love - 🍦

series

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★ nicolas.rar

blurbs

file empty :[

one shots

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series

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[thetrashbinseries]

— Fahrenheit ( bangchan x reader )

rated - mature | minors dni

parts - one, two (explicit)

warnings - idol universe, name changed idols, mature themes, drug use, alcohol use, sexual themes, mentions of mental illness, slight angst

x x x

“It’s not rocket science, Chris."

My annoyance hits the roof. What the hell is his problem? Why's he turning this into a damn soap opera?

"You're back in LA. New York—yes or no?"

Chris tiptoes the line ever since last year's scandal close shave. I get playing it safe, but I'm alone in a six-bedroom Jersey fortress. In the U.S. media game, I'm golden. No cancel threats, not yet in my rising career.

But the spotlight got hotter after the last single went viral. Chris, in the crosshairs of relentless management, dances a careful routine.

He's the big shot, leader of the world's hottest K-pop group. His company would shoot themselves in the foot by axing him. Yet, Mr. Libra doesn't dig rocking the boat.

"-I want to, babe, but it's too risky right now."

I sigh. Twisting my computer chair, neon lights bathe me in purples and reds. I'm in the studio, bullshitting on songs for the third album.

I've had it. "Catch you later, Chris." The call drops, facedown on the desk, anger swirling.

"Seriously, fuck you." I spit out, taking it personally.

Being a foreigner feels like the snag. His industry would call me a disgrace tagging along.

I don't need that energy.

Am I settling as his 'little secret'? I'm 29, he's 27 – grown folks. Pings remind me of him, but I silence the noise. Facetime interrupts, Jake, the friend with benefits. Games or busy, no time for emotional plays.

Warner signed my band, deep in commitments, mind racing. A shrink's gift? Adderall for my ADHD.

Now, even less time for the BS.

"Hey, daddy." I purr, thickening my accent.

Jake’s smile fades as he eyes me. "What?" I giggle,

"Stop playing with me like that, y/n."

"How am I playing with you?"

"You're gonna end up with your legs cocked back like last time, girl, cool it."

Laughter ensues. I glimpse his background – a parking garage stairwell. We catch up every couple of weeks via Facetime.

"Where are you at?" I squint.

"Recognize it?" Jake turns his phone, revealing the New York City skyline.

"You're out here? Aw, shit." I lean back in my chair, a half-cocked grin, tongue behind my lower lip.

"Aw, shit is right! What's up? What are you up to tonight?"

I chuckle, rolling my eyes. "Nah, uh, Jake. We gotta play nice. I got a good thing going on right now."

He sighs, exasperation audible. "You two still a thing? Thought you were photographed over there, outside the JYPE building?"

"I was."

"They ain't letting that fly, you serious, y/n?"

"I mean, they're being hard on him, but we're still trying to make it work." I express more hope than Chris does. Jake’s viewpoint is valid – he's been through the K-pop circuit, burned out, went solo, and found massive international success.

Which is why he bitches about it.

It's unfair.

"I do wanna see you, though," I admit, the need for an adventure kicking in.

"That's my girl. Hey, I'm about to hop in the car. Should be able to make it over in twenty. You at your spot in Jersey?"

"Yes, I am, Jake, but don't come in on no bullshit."

"I'm always on bullshit. See you in twenty."

Jake hangs up before I can fight back.

Why is my grin so wide? I roll my eyes at my own excitement, surprised at how genuinely thrilled I am to be around someone who wants to be with me. Scanning Chris's messages puts me in a better mood.

babydaddy: there’s no way you just hung up like that -_-

babydaddy: this is my life…my career…

babydaddy: why can't you be more patient?? this is hard for me too…

babydaddy: we need to talk tomorrow…

babydaddy: about us, and where this is going.

The last message triggers something in me. My stomach twists like it always does before bad news. It doesn't change, whether in poverty in my hometown or a small Jersey mansion. The same sunken gut reaction. We've been going back and forth, but this sounds... final. At some point, he'll grow sick of it. I know I have.

Yet, there's so much I love about Chris. Selfishly, I don't want him with anyone else. He's the man of my dreams, flawed as he is, he’s human. My human. I panic, feeling like my boat has sprung a leak, desperate to plug it somehow.

Knowing myself, I turn my phone upside down, placing it on my desk and stand up, distancing myself from the setting. Something else would trap me; all I want is not to reply to him with charged emotion. It wouldn't help anything.

Jake’s on his way over.

I take a deep breath, letting my anxiety settle. I'll talk to him; he always has good insight and wisdom beyond his years. I look at myself in the mirror. I'm in comfy mode, barefoot, walking across hardwood floors.

Entering the dimly lit kitchen, I brew hot chocolate, curling my toes against the balls of my feet, cracking knuckles as I chew my lower lip, mind drifting to Chris. Resistance is weaker now; the reasons to text back sound more convincing. I shake my head, trying to clear my mind, grab my cup, and sip as I walk past my bearded dragon's tank. It's late; he's asleep, tucked into his pink bed. I stare at each plant, trying to keep my thoughts in check.

My outdoor motion detection buzzes the smartwatch on my wrist, signaling someone's arrival. I glimpse headlights through my foyer. My grin widens; I bite my lip, urging myself to behave.

"Alexa, shuffle my evening playlist on Spotify, downstairs."

The nearest speaker obeys, filling the space with music. My dog scurries around my feet as the doorbell rings, and my bigger dog's deep barks echo throughout the house.

“Hey, cool it!" I shout at them, stepping over the little one weaving through my legs, nipping my ankles for some ungodly reason. I open the door, visibly exasperated, while my larger dog bellows from the top of the stairs.

Jake points to her behind me, furrowing his brows dramatically. "I thought we were friends!"

My dog hurls another final, loud bark before slowly making her way down the stairs. I let Jake in, lock the door, and he takes off his shoes, grabbing a disposable guest pair from the basket by the front door. I turn, starting down the hall, and Jake’s full body weight slams into me from behind, arms wrapping around my body, causing me to stumble. Seemingly unpredictably, he stops us from falling while laughing. I catch my footing, give him a firm shove, swipe stray hair behind my ear, and correct the other side, giving him a side-eye.

"Now, you know damn well I'm too clumsy for some stupid shit like that," I scoff, turning into the living room. I walk over to the glass coffee table near the sofa, grab the nearby gold electric candle lighter, tip it into the wide, three-wick candle, and light each of their blackened tips. The scents of apple-cinnamon, cedar, sandalwood, and vanilla fill the room, complemented by the warm orange glow of well-placed LED lights. I sit on the edge of the sofa, and Jake takes his favorite spot on the oversized black beanbag chair nearby. He pulls his hood off, followed by his knitted beanie, ruffling his dark brown hair.

I've got to say, Jake is a handsome guy, no doubt about it.

But I've got problems, and I've caught heavy feelings for one of my biggest headaches lately—Christopher Bang.

We're in this so deep, at least on my end.

I start to think a little harder, trying to see beyond the rose colored glasses for a moment. His text plays through my head as I scroll on my phone, my excuse being searching for another song to skip to on Spotify. But, of course, I get back to the messages Chris sent earlier.

"About us, and where this is going…"

We'd never had an official conversation about being exclusive. We met by chance, fell for each other, and started sneaking around together. I consider Chris my boyfriend, and I’m saved in his phone under ‘baby.' That's got to mean something, right?

The horror begins to set in—has this been a situationship this whole time? Is that why he never went public?

Anxiety creeps in.

"Yo," Jake snaps his fingers, waving his fingers. Damn, I must've been really distracted, crinkled brows as I stare into my phone, thumb tapping against the glass but not doing anything. I look up at him, raising my brows as if I had just briefly missed something he recently said.

"Hm?" I ask.

He's sitting up more, his left hand stroking one of my cats. "Talk to me, girl," he gestures to the marble ashtray with half of a joint, "And pass it."

I lean forward, grabbing the pink joint and placing it between my lips. I use the lighter nearby, sparking it, blowing a few times, the smoke thick and pungent, rising into the air. I tap it into the ashtray and lean over, passing it his way. Jake takes it graciously, placing it between the center of his pink lips and taking a big inhale. He holds it in, nodding, looking down at it as he blows the smoke out the side of his mouth.

"Chris and I got into it again. He told me they were coming to LA for a show over at KCON, and he was like 'maybe I can fly over to see you,' trying to fit it in, delaying his trip to Korea by like three days, which didn’t seem like a big deal. But then after everything ended, he was just hyper-aware of the attention on them and changed his mind," I begin to explain. Jake has taken a few hits during my story; he's leaning forward, passing me the joint again. I take it, hitting it.

"Did he say why?" he asks. Jake’s voice is low, even-toned. He’s invested in my story and the way I’m feeling, I can tell by the way his laser focus is on me as I speak. His eye contact is intense, fiery, the Aries in him.

"No, he didn’t, and that’s what frustrated me, so we got on a call tonight. He like—called me and was dancing around it, and I was like 'look, it’s not hard, are you coming to New York or not.' I was just... over it," I reply, pausing to take another hit before passing it to Jake once more. "He was all 'I want to, baby, but it's too risky.'” I mock his Aussie accent, and Jake can’t help the cough of smoke that comes out from trying to repress a laugh. He turns his head, full-on coughing a couple of times before he catches his breath again.

"Do you need water?" I ask, successfully holding back my own laugh. I don’t wait for his reply, instead, standing up and taking a few steps over to the mini-fridge and grabbing a bottle of spring water, handing it to him.

Plopping back down on the couch, I sigh. "So I didn’t even let him get the rest of it out. I was like 'ok, I’ll talk to you later' and like, hung up."

Jake places the burnt-out joint tip into the tray, effectively ending our puff-puff-pass session, making us both more relaxed and a little spacey. "Oof, y/n, this is... such a unique situation that very few people go through, and even fewer non-K-idols. I mean, I don’t agree with any of it, right? But it’s not me, and Chan, he’s in like–the peak of their career as a boy group, dude." Jake shakes his head, sitting back, my cat jumping from his lap, considering him having moved too much for his comfort.

"I don’t—care," I blurt.

Jake’s head drops back with a sigh before he picks it up again. "That’s probably part of the problem. Chan’s risking his career; Korea is no joke when it comes to this shit. I promise you, unless you’re physically in the industry as an idol over there, you have no idea. It’s so obsessive, and these companies, the management, they will not let you breathe, and the bigger you are—the tighter they hold onto you because there’s so much more to lose at that point."

He only leaves a half second of pause before he says, "I don’t think you’re compatible with—nor do you deserve, that kind of relationship with anyone."

Ouch.

It hurts that much more because—he’s right

"Now that doesn’t make Chan a bad person, or you a weak person. He’s got a right to this life he’s worked super hard to get to, and you’ve got a right to someone to love you the way you want to be loved, especially while you’re in the beginning stage of becoming great yourself. It’s a huge distraction—maybe not a relationship, but like, that kind of relationship."

I can do nothing but sigh, throwing my hands up and sitting back onto the couch, feeling, well, defeated. Can you blame me? It fucking sucks, the reality of it all that I was trying to avoid.

"Fuck," I finally say aloud.

Jake’s looking at me; I know he feels bad for breaking it down so plain, but he does it because he cares about me and wants the best for me, and I know that. “You still do what you want; it’s your life. Whatever you two decide is what you two decide, but that’s just—my limited experience.”

I scoff with a roll of my eyes, “Limited experience. Yeah ok.”

He laughs.

We both understand the subtext of the brief exchange.

“He says we need to talk tomorrow, about us and ‘where this is going’,” I say with air quotes.

“I mean, hey, it’s an opportunity to get your concerns out there, listen to his, and decide what’s best for you. He’ll decide what’s best for him. If that’s being together, great, if not, great. Either way, you’ll be ok. That’s how I like to see these kinds of things.” Jake says, his words profound and his perspective valuable to me. He leans forward, “We’ve known each other like what? Almost a year now?” I nod to confirm, and he continues, “In that short period of time, I can just—tell that you’re a strong person; you wouldn’t have gotten this far if you weren’t. If you ever need someone to talk to, my line is always open.”

I let another long breath go before laying across the sofa on my stomach, bringing myself closer to Jake as I lazily hug a pillow, resting my chin atop it. His advice is logged in my thoughts. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore—the way he phrased it did something to lower my anxiety so I was going to let sleeping dogs lie. “What about you, huh? What’s got you on the East Coast? You’re never over here, rarely in America anymore for real.”

“Yeah, I’ve been—busy, but it’s a blessing, you know? I’m so grateful that so many people support me, as a solo artist, doing my own thing, my way.” Jake never fails to acknowledge those around him that have supported him, and keeps himself grounded and humble somehow through being an international celebrity. “But I was at the Versace show over in Soho. I’ve got a couple of other shows to see for New York Fashion Week, but I touched down and had to come see you.”

I lift a brow. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Jake.”

Without hesitation, he fires back, “I’m not asking you to, y/n.”

It’s enough to drag a snort from me.

He laughs, “The hotels get lonely, and most places I go, I don’t know anyone. I like it here; you’ve done a lot since the last time I was here.” Jake looks around at the decor. He points to a painting of a cat skeleton on a black canvas. “That’s new, I like it.” He says.

“Yeah? I do too; it’s simple but it matches the vibe of the space, I found it by accident one day.”

When Jake says the hotels are lonely, I believe him. He often confides in me about how lonely his lifestyle can be and how it can drive him so crazy that he’ll call everyone through his phone until someone answers, and when that person hangs up, he’ll keep going. More often than not, he doesn’t have anyone to call, despite my insisting that I was an option. Some nights, when it gets really bad, he’ll have a tendency towards drinking, which is something I don’t like, and we’ve talked about ad nauseam. Of course, he’s always welcome in my safe spaces.

“So what’s new with the band? When you texted me the other day, you had like, tons of shit going on that you were freaking out about.” Jake cracks open the bottle of water, taking a gulp.

“I’m flying out to LA next week for a couple of events, but we’re like focused on album three right now; I’ve been locked in the studio just writing.”

“Ok, ok, you got anything for me to hear yet?” He seems to perk up to ask this question.

“Eh, nothing I’m ready to show or anything, just fragments of songs right now. The label is really pushing the work we did with album two to build the hype up for album three, and that’s the one they funded.” I kick my feet slowly in the air behind me as I talk.

“We should do a song together.” Jake says, quite suddenly. He can tell I’m taken aback. I mean, creatively, Jake and I get along great, but we had never discussed merging on a record before. “An official song, I think it could sound incredible.”

I immediately want to agree, of course, but I have a couple of hurdles I know I need to jump now that I’ve gotten to this point in my career. I hated that. I used to be able to agree to a collaboration immediately. But Jake had even more hoops to jump through; he couldn’t commit to something official now either.

So why was he proposing it?

“I gotta ask the label—”

“Fuck the label, dude.” Jake waves his hand, “They don’t have to know anything, not yet. We’ll just work together and see what happens. Whaddya say?”

It takes no thought for me to reply,

“Let’s do it.”

—

Jake wore me down enough to bring him down into the studio, insisting he didn't have anything important to do until tomorrow evening. I don't want to encourage his drinking, but when he spots the whiskey decanter, he gestures to it as I sit down in the main chair in front of the soundboard.

"What’s in there? Hennessy?" He answers his own question as I spin around in the chair to see what he’s talking about. He’s already over at the mini bar, opening it up and whiffing.

"Yeah, but I rarely drink it. I got it for guests." I turn towards my soundboard again, powering it up and waiting for the two large screens to load. I add another thought to the end of my sentence, albeit, to myself. Not like I have guests anyway.

Jake comes over with a glass, the brown liquor sloshing around as he tilts it in my direction. I roll my eyes, taking it, and he’s already got his glass, which he holds out for a toast.

"To the music," Jake says.

"The music." I oblige, clinking his glass and taking my gulp down a lot less gracefully than he does his, before he pours up another for himself. "Don’t overdo it; you’re gonna have a nasty hangover, and I won’t be the one to blame for it." I press a few buttons, and the house lights lower, back to the blue and purple hue I was sitting in earlier.

"I am a grown man that knows my limits." Jake states, matter-of-factly. He sits in the rolling chair at the table alongside me, pulling himself up to the soundboard and sitting back in his chair, sipping his drink as his eyes dance across the screens while I click around, pulling up my digital audio workstation of choice.

I point to the keyboard nearest to him, "Press a key for me?" He does, confirming it's connected and functional, the note ringing out through the monitors.

"Aw yeah." Jake sits up, setting his glass down on the designated cupholder space on the edge of the mixing table as he places both hands on the keys, beginning to fiddle with the limited random keys and chords he had learned how to play while being forced to learn as a trainee. "Damn, it’s been so long." He says, a half smile on his face. I can tell he’s reminiscing, I just can’t tell if it’s good or bad. "You’re so lucky to have control over your music, you know that?" He says, looking over at me before focusing back on the instrument again, slender fingers of his right hand climbing up the keys.

"I don’t really have total control, not anymore. Not sure I ever did." I say with a sigh. "It’s always been like—an Eli and me thing, not just a ‘me’ thing. I just get a little more attention because I’m the one out front, singing." I continue to explain. Jake’s stopped playing, instead choosing to lean in his chair and eye me over the top of his glass as he sips, listening to me with an empathetic nod. "Now with a major label involved, there are so many other factors now."

"You get the final say though, right?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I do." I say with uncertainty, not because it isn’t true, but because it still feels like the decisions I make have to be based on what everyone else thinks is best for us. If I vehemently object, I’m persuaded down to the decisions of others. Sometimes, it feels like I’m being gaslit. But I don’t have much time to ruminate on that, since everything is moving forward at top speed.

"Guess it’s complicated?" Jake concedes.

I nod.

"Girl, you got it," Jake croons in his gruff voice, eyes closed, fingers snapping to start a rhythm. "And I know it, baby, why don’t you?”

I nod, sliding him away from the keys as I hit some chords to match his singing. Unsure if it's a freestyle or something pre-written, I catch the composition unfolding. Music flows through me effortlessly—my natural talent that's brought me this far. It didn't happen overnight, but creating is the part of music that feels like pure joy, a distraction from all the BS.

Soon, we're vibing out a hook, laughing for hours, blending funk with '90s groove, a nostalgic fusion. My phone rings, freezing me in place. The weight of unresolved problems crashes over me. Jake senses it; I bolt before he protests. His eyes speak understanding; he knows when to let me deal with my demons. I answer the phone, attempting to steady my voice.

“Hello?”

“You answered.”

It’s Chris.

His voice is tired, ironic, as if he couldn’t believe it himself but didn’t care.

It irritates me. Why call back so soon if compromise isn't on the table?

“I just called to say, that I’ll be there in about four hours.”

A lump forms in my throat; I glance around for a clock. Holed up in the studio with Jake, time escaped me.

“But you said—“

‘First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark, First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark.’

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you in a few, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.”

The phone beeps, leaving me in stunned silence. The studio's muted song hums in the background. I'm not ready to face it yet, still figuring out what this sudden visit means.

“Said I wouldn’t do this.” I mutter, pressing my fists against my forehead, heaving a frustrated sigh. I vowed not to let another man stir my emotions, yet here I am—almost having a meltdown. But my feelings are valid. No explanation after a heated argument, and suddenly he's on his way here?

Maybe he got another perspective from the members or his friends. Maybe he thought about it. Either way, he'll be here in four hours. We can hash it out then.

I muster the calm to return to the studio. Jake sits back, his chair turning towards me. “Well?”

I plop onto the nearby sofa. “He’s boarding a flight here now, said he’ll be here in four hours.”

Jake’s brows lift in surprise. “See? I told you…this was going to push you two in some direction it needed to go. Four hours? My man, okay BangChan!” Jake laughs, toasting with his glass. “So I added some drums, check it out.” He plays the track; the groove multiplies.

“You added that part too?” I notice another musical flair, and he nods proudly. After a few seconds, he turns it off, a slow fade of the volume knob.

“I think that’s enough for me to work with for now, what do you think?”

"The skeleton is definitely there, but what about more instruments?" I question. Jake pushes his chair back, picks up his hoodie, slipping it on as he stands up.

“It’s enough to write to; we can come back to it; if Chan’s on his way here, the last thing he needs is to see another guy here late night.” He slips on his shades, his phone reflected in them as he orders an Uber Black. I didn't think he cared like this, feeling closer to him; he did what he felt was best. I was freaking out about how to get him out in time, and Jake took the initiative.

A relieved sigh escapes me. “I owe you.”

“Absolutely nothing. You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart. I had a good time here tonight.” He tucks his phone in his jacket pocket. “Twelve minutes.”

I nod. “Follow me upstairs, I made some cookies yesterday; you can take some with you.”

“Ooh what kind?”

“Chocolate chip.”

“A classic.”

[loveebot]

lovie’s request “rules” (not really)

please please pleaseee try your best to send in a prompt i can fully respond to. “cowboy!matt and americana!reader” isn’t something i could really respond to. i mean i could, but yk give a little more to my imagination please and thank you🎀

some examples : you could send in something like a question — “would toxicex!nate (your idea)”. or you could send in one of your own rambles and i’ll take it into interpretation — “just thinking about frat!chris doing/saying/whatever (your idea)”. or you could say smth like “would/how would/just thinking about” football!matt and bambi!reader (your idea)

you can either request from these !readers/!(chris, matt, or nate) or come up with your own (i lovee new ideas)🎀

the !readers

fem!reader (regular)

bunny!reader

puppy!reader

teddy!reader

kitty!reader

y2k!reader

bambi!reader

snake!reader

gingerkitty!reader

goldenretriever!reader

the !boys (can be matt, chris, or nate)

boyfriend!

fratboy!

toxicex!

babydaddy!

bfb! (best friend’s brother)

bbf! (brother’s best friend)

fwb! (friends with benefits)

cowboy!

dealer!

hockey!

exbf!

football!

[perezhilton]

Anna Faris’ babydaddy is going to be a father again! All the Chris Pratt details HERE!

[sibylsleaves]

Today I’m taking a break from going insane about the lightning strike and instead going insane thinking about the interesting ways the Denny/Hen/Karen/Babydaddy (forgot his name sorry) storyline could collide with the sperm donor storyline. From the very beginning, Hen has been tied very tightly into Buck’s decision to do this, repeatedly being the person he confides in about it. 

And the writers have chosen NOW to be the time they explore Denny’s connection with his own biological father. 

I don’t know what they’re planning to do with these two storylines and how they’ll ultimately connect--whether Denny’s experience will shed some more light on Buck’s situation, or if maybe Buck’s situation will help Hen figure out how to navigate things with Denny--but it’s too big a parallel for them NOT to have these two storylines collide in some shape or form.

Denny’s storyline is definitely in part about a boundary being crossed by his biological father. But it’s also ultimately about Denny’s feelings--him growing older and wanting to draw his OWN boundaries and make his OWN decisions about his relationship with his biological father.

And I think it’s interesting because.....we’ve talked a lot about BUCK’S feelings about being a sperm donor and having that biological connection to a child who really isn’t his. But one thing it seems no one has really brought up in a meaningful way is what the KID is going to want, down the line, when it’s old enough (like Denny) to want to make those decisions for themself. So I do wonder/think that might become a topic once the Denny thing comes to light.

And I wonder, too, if we’ll get yet another interesting intersection on both of these storylines--and that, of course, would be Buck’s relationship with Chris. We already know Chris is going to have some significant scene in the next episode, and given the topic of the episode I wouldn’t be surprised if the scene is something along the lines of Chris reflecting on how much Buck means to him/how much better his life is because Buck is in it.

Which, again, could be an interesting angle to the sperm donor baby situation as well--the fact that a potential sperm donor baby of Buck’s might WANT to have a connection with him, and might WANT to be in his life, and might in fact be better for it. 

I have NO idea how any of this will shake out, and I think it’s difficult to write a storyline about a hypothetical (because the baby being old enough to make those decisions is SO far in the future) but I’m hoping we’ll get some juicy stuff with these 3 storylines...

[fein4chrisstur]

Chris listening to my babydaddy travis scott makes me SOAKED

chris singing maria im drunk got me soaked

i love this song so bad

[m00nl1ghts1vt]

Im obsessed w babydaddy Chris!! Idk why but I can see him getting his gf pregnant too soon lol

Me & you both!! I have sooo many ideas for babydadyy!Chris 🥰 would yall be mad if I made him a lil toxic tho? 👀

And literally same, he’d be in love with the coochie. You know his pull out game weakkk 😭😭😭 6 months in he already got a baby otw smh 🥲 he’d def be a good daddy/babydaddy tho!

[cvnntagious]

☆ introducing... babydaddy!matt

you were woken up by your loud ringtone and the sound of knocking at your front door, both growing increasingly more impatient. with a groggy stupor, you slid out of your bed, careful not to wake the toddler fast asleep beside you. it wasn't a long walk from your bedroom to your front door in the small apartment you and your daughter lived in, giving you barely enough time to fully wake when you opened the door to feel the sun hit your eyes. you hissed, just hardly able to make out your child's father standing in your doorway with some bags in hand.

"i brought breakfast," matt explained simply, holding up what you were now able to tell were mcdonalds bags, "ya' weren't up? it's almost ten."

your small groan in response only made matt chuckle, pushing past you like he belonged in your home without a care in the world. "so, let me guess, she's still asleep too?" he then asked, turning to look at you shutting and locking your front door.

with a small frown at the way he'd already began to make himself comfortable at your dining table, you nodded apprehensively, crossing your arms to watch him rustle in the bags of food. "she wouldn't go to bed in her own bed last night either, so i had to bring her into mine... she's always a hassle to put to sleep,' you explained, clearly exhausted.

matt's small grin remained on his face as he placed some of the fast food he'd ordered in deliberate spots on the table. "weird, she always falls asleep quickly with me— snug as a little bug," he said, the last words much softer than the ones previously before his eyes flicked up to meet yours, "y'know, she could always start spending the night at my house sometimes." his tone made it seem like this were a new suggestion, as if he hadn't been saying that almost every time he'd come over.

only an exasperated roll of your eyes and the bags he'd brought were empty, placed in three spots - two on one side, and one on the other. "she's not staying there, matt. i already told you, a few hours is enough, then she needs to come home to me." even with how tired you were of always being the one taking care of her, you weren't willing to negotiate on this. you didn't want her staying places without you, and that was final.

he gave you another chuckle, this time a bit bitter as he shook his head. "i just don't see how else you're supposed to relieve all your stress," he replied, calm and collected as he could be as he made his way into your bedroom.

"I could think of a few," you quipped, laughing at your own joke.

matt huffed, choosing to ignore your comment and only grumble an incoherent "don't do that shit to me," so he could wake up his sleeping beauty - mazzy. cooing and caressing her soft baby face, he eased her awake before he lifted her out of the warm blankets her small body practically drowned in. he bounced her on his hip as she mumbled in her half-awake state, causing him to whisper things like 'it's okay, daddy's here," and 'how's my pretty girl?' before he walked to the door frame with her.

the sight of her face lit up as she began speaking softly in response to her father was enough to melt your heart, watching the two interact as he carried her all the way to her spot in front of some mcdonald's hotcakes. your features softened as he buckled her into her highchair, gentle in ways you'd never seen him be to anyone else with your guys' daughter.

he looked great in that plain white t-shirt, tattoos covering his arm, bent over to cut up the pancakes for his (your guys') child. his key fab dangled from his jeans, swaying with each movement. you couldn't help but feel your heart begin to beat a little, trying not to admire the way his curly, shiny brunette tufts of hair would shift on his head whenever he'd speak in such an adorable tone.

"it's times like these where i start to wonder why we ever broke up," you said mindlessly, not even expecting him to catch his words with how intensely focused he was on mazzy.

of course, to your dismay, matt's eyes instantly flicked up to meet yours once again, this time a bit of an unreadable darkness to them. "mhm... i can think of a few."

w/c : 767

[tittyinfinity]

Hi, I'm your babydaddy, Chris Pratt. How do you know I'm Chris Pratt? Because I fucking suck. Fuck you. You can find my image all over grocery stores everywhere. It's the only image they have, actually. I can't pay you child support. I'm fucking popcorn. Popcorn. I'll kill you.

[haley-cassandra]

My mom has some audacity. And like, this ain’t got shit to do with my kid, so. But I was telling her about all these signs I feel like I’ve gotten from a specific member of my spirit team, that I’m largely ignoring, not because I don’t trust or believe in this specific member of my team, it’s just like. I’m good where I’m at right now, I do not want the person they keep trying to push me towards. I haven’t wanted that person in many many years, and I do not ever see myself wanting that person ever again. But I was telling my mom about it cause I was like “haha yea bro came with the fuck shit lmao” and she goes “I WANT THAT TOO! THATS WHAT I HOPE YOU DO TOO!” And like— first of all, rude. Like just fucking R U D E. Christopher already knows she doesn’t like him, but she doesn’t have to be this open about how much she wishes I was with someone else. I’m fucking sick of the shit. CAUSE NOT HER ALSO LITERALLY CALLING ME “ON ACCIDENT” AND THEN CUTTING ME OFF IN THE MIDDLE OF TALKING TO SAY “I GOT A [red beard McCringe] HUG TODAY” like. Good for you? Why’d you say it in that tone, bitch? Was I meant to be jealous? “Does that bother you?” That you hugged him? No. That you cut me off and said it how you said it? Very fukin much so. Like. Was it supposed to bother me, mother? Was I meant to be jealous about that shit? I don’t even want to be in the same room as him, and yet I still feel the need to over explain how much I don’t want him because I’m terrified of being misunderstood. Let me make it abundantly clear, spirit team member that keeps throwing those messages my way, I love you, I miss you, I appreciate your love and wisdom; he had a second chance, you were there. Not something I’m trying to ever revisit, not someone I ever want to or plan to peruse again.

The man I’m with is good to me, he makes me happy, he makes me laugh, he feels like home, I want to spend the rest of my life with him because I love him and he loves me, and he makes me feel loved. His patience is unmatched, I’ve gone through so many different mental health issues, done some awful things, at one point my therapist had me on different medication every other month trying to figure out what was the best one for me, he dealt with me and the side effects of taking the wrong medication during that process, I cheated on him in a manic episode, I also hung out with someone and didn’t tell him and then I got s/a’d because that person’s girlfriend’s babydaddy bailed on her so she couldn’t come hang out. And he stood beside me. He’s held me while I cried over everything from missing Connor and not being able to see him for a while to accidentally spilling my drink on my shirt; he’s held my hand through getting the repressed memories about my dad back, he’s talked me through those memories as best as he can and if I didn’t have him to talk to about those memories then I literally wouldn’t have anyone at all because I tried to talk to miranda and a couple other people and they just called me crazy and said I was trying to start shit because I’m mad. He was beside me through going no contact with my dad, stepmom, and grandma, and losing brynlee and grandpa and Miranda in the process. Hell, the man held my right leg as I gave birth to his child almost 4 and a half years ago. He’s not been perfect, he’s definitely made mistakes; so have I. We’ve grown together as people and I love him, I just love him, that’s all there is to it. I’d risk it all for that man. And will risk it all because these god damn signs that I need to break up with him and wait for captain crunchy socks to hit me up are becoming unignorable, and I’m kinda tired of it. And the way it’s got me like, if it can’t be Christopher just make it Andrew and not dollar tree Tyler Cheilders, makes me gag; like dear god just make it my closest friend in the world (other than Chris) if it can’t be Chris cause I don’t even want Ed Sheeran in my line of sight.

And like, I wouldn’t take these things I’m seeing and the cards I’m pulling and the songs I’m hearing as signs if it didn’t happen almost every day for almost a year. It’s been happening longer than that, but it’s been constantly happening daily for almost a year. Like I can’t sleep at night because when I close my eyes sometimes all I see is the passenger perspective of driving down a backroad. Thoughts of what could have been flood my mind for the first time in years, and it makes me want to throw up. My stomach is turning now at just the slightest inclination of theorizing about what could have been. And not because it makes me sad to think about, but because it makes me angry that I allowed him to lie to me the way he did that night, and then I also allowed him to vent to me about how unhappy he was, and now they look like the most perfect little family in the world and honestly I truly think they’re adorable together and that they have a beautiful family together; like, between the two of them I miss her. Losing her friendship like that hurt more than losing him ever did. Finding out from other people that they had been lying on my name and talking shit behind my back hurt more than losing him ever did. Shit, having to block Andrew over political disagreements hurts more than losing him ever did. Are we seeing the pattern here? So I would like to stop having the “Landlocked Blues by Bright Eyes” card literally thrown across the bed at me when I’m shuffling the cards I made, and I’d like to stop receiving messages in my tarot cards that I need to end my relationship with Christopher every time I get my cards out. Like. I mean what’s meant to happen will happen regardless of what I want or what anyone else wants, but it would be cooler if it could just not this time. Like. I’m tired of this grandpa. And it shouldn’t be too damn bad.

[mistaken-kingboo]

Chris Evans, a 39 year old man, has my whole heart and i’d be ready to give my life for him at any point in time and thats that.

[hoelpimentel]

SIS u better stop with those tags or give me more babydaddy!chris 😥 im soft

SKDJSK LISTEN it’s all I’ve been thinking about since he posted that story so it’s only fair to torture everybody else with it.. and I’d give you more but I can’t write so 😔