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absurdthirst · 2 years ago

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Daddy Dieter {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 23.1k

Warnings: Drug use, pregnancy mention, surrogacy talk, oral sex (female receiving), sex toys, unprotected sex, cream pie, pregnancy angst, doctors, breast play, talk of anal play, oral sex (male receiving), lactation kink, cum play, food cravings, angst, Dieter being Dieter, labor, childbirth.

Comments: Your boss, Dieter Bravo is the embodiment of an adult child. You are shocked when he decides on day that he wants a baby. Even more shocked when he wants you to be his surrogate and have it for him.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“I’ve decided I want a baby.” Dieter announces this just as easily as he’s decided to get a puppy. In his mind there’s not a whole hell of a lot of difference between the two. Both are small, need to be fed and will shit everywhere, both would love him unconditionally. He’s thought about it longer than anything else he’s decided in his life, almost two days. That article with Sandra Bullock about her kids making him yearn and wonder if it was ever going to happen for him. He wasn’t getting any younger and like most things he wanted, he wanted it now.

Your eyes widen, shocked and in disbelief, until you burst out laughing. Dieter looks offended which makes you laugh even more. The man can barely remember to shower without you telling him he has to, how the fuck is he going to look after a baby?!? “You’re joking, right?” You ask him, raising your eyebrows.

He pouts, looking at you with annoyance. “Why would I be joking?” He asks, tilting his head, “I’m perfectly capable of being a daddy.”

You snort, “a daddy but not a daddy.” You emphasize and he smirks a little before he shakes his head.

“It’s time I grew up and became a father.” It’s his turn to emphasize the word.

Your eyes narrow, thinking of something that might have prompted all of this. “Did you knock someone up and this is your way of pretending it’s your idea?” You ask, making him huff and purse his lips at you.

“What? No! At least- I don’t think- no, I haven’t.” Dieter’s face runs through a myriad of emotions, surprise and hurt the most obvious ones, like you offend him for thinking so little of him. “I think it’s a great idea.” He tells you.

You don’t. He’s irresponsible at best. Always taking drugs, drinking, staying up all night long and sleeping all day. Well…maybe that would be a good aspect to having a baby, he’s used to being up all night. “Are you planning on doing this alone? Who - poor woman she is - are you planning on asking to be the mother?” You ask him. He stops biting his thumb nail to look at you. “Me? Oh no. No no no.” You shake your head. You do not plan to have your crazy bosses offspring. “Absolutely not.” You scoff, crossing your arms.

“Come on.” He whines, giving you a pout. “It’s perfect if you think about it. You work for me, so it’s not like I would have to go interview a woman to carry a baby for me. You’re already under an NDA.” He pats himself on the back for remembering that. “Plus, I would be able to be around for the pregnancy.” He tilts his head and considers something else to sweeten the deal. “I’ll pay you.”

“Pay me? Fucking hell Dieter. I- what - I don’t even know what to say. I just -and you want to- to what? Be a single parent? Or, knowing my luck, you’d get bored and I’d have to raise your kid all by myself while looking after you too.” You are so confused about this. You also know he’ll forget the idea in a few days.

“Pleaseeeee.” He pouts, thinking that his infamous puppy face will win you over.

“No. No. It’s- it’s insane. And you want to pay me? God.” You rub your forehead, unsure of what to even say at this point.

“I would pay one of those women - what do they call them? Surrogates, right?” He nods. “Or god forbid, someone did get pregnant and I’m fighting to see the kid two weeks a year and paying through the nose.” He wants a kid and the more he thinks about it, it makes perfect sense for it to be you. It’s honestly brilliant.

“But- but you’ll just get bored. That’s what you do. Everything is a five minute wonder. And how much money would you even pay? How - how would I even get pregnant?” You ask, wrinkling your nose at the idea of some mechanical sex with Dieter who wears five day old clothes.

Dieter huffs, annoyed that the idea of sex with him is repugnant. Women and men throw themselves at him but you seem to think it’s the worst idea on the planet. “Fine.” He snaps. “I’ll figure it out myself.” He tells you, giving you an annoyed look. “Just forget about it.”

You watch him leave, acting like a petulant child as he stomps out of your room. “Fuck me.” You groan, rubbing your head and wondering what he’s gonna do next. The next few days, he doesn’t mention it so you figure you were right. It was a five minute wonder likely brought on by drugs. Then you see them. “Um. Why are there women lining up in the hall? You didn’t call a brothel again did you?” You accuse him.

Dieter peers over the rim of his sunglasses, lifting his brows and smirking at you. “No, not a brothel this time, although…” He thinks about it for a second and shakes his head. He wouldn’t want the mother of his child to be fucking strange men while she was pregnant with his baby. “They’re here to audition.” He explains, grinning at the women before looking back over at you.

“Audition? Dieter..” you groan and roll your eyes. “You cannot promise these women parts in the movie if they sleep with you.”

The eccentric actor scoffs and pulls his robe around his body, shoving his hand in a pocket and searching for the candy bars he had hidden in there earlier. Someone on set had a bag of mini KitKats and he had stolen a handful to put in his pocket. “No, they are auditioning to be my surrogate.” He tells you proudly. “Told you I would figure it out myself.”

“Auditioning? God, you’re still on about that? You need - you can’t just audition random women.” You shake your head at him, reaching for the clipboard to see what he’s written and you frown when you see just doodles of tits and penises. “What? None of them worthy of being your baby mama?” You scoff, handing him back the clipboard.

“Not yet.” Dieter shrugs and looks unconcerned but he was starting to worry about it. He had looked up a service that placed surrogates but they wouldn’t take a single man. Hypocrites. Single women and gay couples were allowed to be placed with surrogates, but he couldn’t just hire someone to have his baby. He ought to sue because it kind of feels like discrimation. “But I will. My baby momma is here.” He winks at you. “I feel it.”

You roll your eyes, “sure daddy.” You mock, walking over to his phone to check his messages. He hates texting and hates holding a cell phone for longer than necessary due to the radio waves. “I’ll send the next girl in then for you.” You huff, going outside to get the next girl for him.

Dieter rejects each woman, one by one. Each one having something wrong with them or god forbid, they thought he wanted a relationship with them. The door closes on the last woman and he huffs, flopping down on the sofa and leaning back to close his eyes. “Fuck.” He hisses, hating that he hasn’t found anyone that he would want to carry his child. It couldn’t be this hard. He’s had plenty of ‘oh shit’ moments with lovers over the years but now he can’t find someone he wants to get pregnant?

You come back in the room with his herbal tea, seeing the crosses on the clipboard. “No luck?” You ask, trying not to chuckle at the fact that his silly idea has fallen flat. “What are you gonna do now?” You ask, tilting your head as you hand him the tea.

He huffs, annoyed at your smug tone. “You.” He responds, “I will pay you whatever you want.”

You shake your head, “you don’t know how much it would take.”

“It can’t be that much.” Dieter grumbles, taking the tea and he sighs. “I don’t know.” He sighs. “I was turned down by legitimate surrogate services. Said that they wouldn’t entertain the idea without a partner. Apparently I look like a human trafficker or some shit.” He looks at you, bewildered that someone would think that. “I just don’t want to be too fucking old to enjoy having a kid.” He admits softly.

You chuckle at his comment about being a human trafficker. They aren’t wrong. He needs to smarten up. “I know Dieter, it’s just - do you not think it’s a five minute wonder? I know you think you want a baby, but are you sure?” You ask, sitting down on the sofa opposite him.

“Maybe I’ll get back together with Gabrella.” Dieter murmurs, ignoring your question. The entire reason she dumped him was because he didn’t want kids. At least he didn’t at the time. Maybe she still would want to have a kid with him if he gave her a call. “She wanted a kid.”

You shake your head, “you can’t go back to her. She made your life a living hell. You hated yourself because she put you down constantly. You can’t get back together with her.” You shake your head, again, reaching for his free hand. “You weren’t happy with her. Not really. Look…I don’t - why do you want to be a father so bad? Tell me.” You order, letting go of his hand.

“Who doesn’t want a kid?” Dieter shrugs, huffing at you. “They're cute, they worship you and will love you no matter how many scandals you cause or who you manage to piss off in the Screen Actors Guild.” He hadn’t meant to mix uppers with downers at the after party two years ago. His regular guy had fucking screwed up. That was why he had passed in the water fountain.

You remember that night. Having had to get him out of the fountain. “Yeah but they are a lot of work. A lifetime commitment. You can’t just give them up after you get bored. They are forever. A child is a lot of work and I- you can’t be taking drugs and messing around with whoever you want. They need stability and security. Can you provide that?”

“I have a house.” Dieter states, like a place to live is all that a child would need. “I have money and can hire a nanny or whatever they would need.” He hasn’t really thought of everything that comes with raising a child, but he wants one. He wants a little mini him that he can give everything he wanted when he was growing up and couldn’t have. “I haven’t gotten laid in months anyway.”

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. “So it wasn’t you I walked in on eating out the assistant directors ass?” You snort, “she was shocked when I walked in with your food but you carried on while I awkwardly shuffled out of the door.” You cross your arms. “I know everything about you, Dieter. The bad and the ugly.”

He frowns, “what about the good?”

You tilt your head, “still waiting to see it.”

Dieter grumbles under his breath and looks away from you in annoyance. He hates that you seem to find him so fucking unlikeable. “Yeah, and I didn’t get laid after that. She fucking went back to her room and I had to jerk off.” He complains. “I wouldn’t be yelling at my kid or treating them like shit. They could be who they want and would be well traveled by the time they are grown.”

“Jumping from city to city while you film. It’s - it’s no life for a child. Dieter. You need to seriously think about this. And who you ultimately decide to do it with. It’s a big deal. A kid isn’t something you can get rid of when you get bored or when it gets hard. You just - you need to think about it for a couple more weeks.” You sigh, not wanting him to just jump into this.

“You think I’m that much of a fuck up?” He asks quietly, hurt that you would feel that way. “I’m unique, sure.” He won’t say that he’s immature, but that’s because he’s eccentric, not immature. “But I’m not a fucking asshole.”

“I just don’t think your life is conducive to a child. You’re an adult and I’ve never judged how you live your life but if it was my baby? I wouldn’t want them around the drugs and shit. You need to figure out what’s more important to you and then we can talk about me being your surrogate. I won’t carry your baby though until I think you are being realistic.”

Dieter’s eyes brighten, only hearing that you would consider being his surrogate. “What if- what if I sober up?” He asks excitedly. “I won’t do anything but weed.” He furrows his brow when you frown at him. “It’s a fucking plant! You can’t get huffy about a plant.”

You sigh, knowing he’d have months to get properly sober. “Show me you can be sober for two weeks. Two. Weeks. Then we can talk about me being your surrogate.” You reason, giving him a reason to be sober, you just want him to be more responsible and as much as you aren’t certain about him being a good dad, you know you’d be a good mother with already looking after Dieter who is like a child.

“Fine.” Dieter holds out his hand for you to shake. “Two weeks.” He grins. “Starting tomorrow.” He adds, shrugging slightly. “I already took some ‘shrooms after the last girl left.” He admits. “But I’m being honest and acknowledging that, like a good father would.”

You refrain from snorting, knowing he won’t be able to handle this. He’s gonna fold before the end of the week, let alone two. You shake his hand, “two weeks, Bravo. Two weeks of sobriety to prove to me that you can be a responsible father.”

****

“So you’re gonna do it, right?” Dieter grins at you, tapping the calendar that is taped to his wall and humming. “Says right here it’s been fourteen days. Two weeks and I’ve not taken one drug.” He says smugly.

You notice the smugness and you shake your head. “Not so fast. You are going to take a drug test. I know you and you probably snuck some weed or something in there.” You reach into your purse for the drug test. “Go pee in this.” You order after unwrapping the test. He pouts, snatching the cup away from you before he heads into the bathroom. “Ah ah ah. I want to watch you.” You tell him, not wanting him to somehow have some stashed urine for those random drug tests some sets will enforce.

He turns around, staring at you for a moment. “Are you serious?” He huffs. “I can’t even fucking piss without you watching?” You don’t say anything and he smirks. “You just want to stare at my dick. See what you’ll be working with.”

You wrinkle your nose, “no way in hell I’m fucking you, Bravo. You are gonna get me pregnant with insemination. Now, go pee.” You order, following him into the bathroom. He makes a show of pulling his flaccid cock out to piss into the cup and you can’t deny he’s impressive, even soft. He looks at you with a smug smirk, finishing his urine sample.

“You like what you see?” He waggles his eyebrows.

“I’ve seen bigger.” You lie, shrugging one shoulder as you work on the testing kit.

That deflates his ego, making him frown as he watches you, tucking himself away. What kind of fucking horse cocked men have you been fucking? Shuffling over, he looks over your shoulder, watching you read the directions and he bites his lip. “Insemination?” He asks. “You want to get pregnant with a glorified turkey baster?”

You quickly work on getting the test kit together before setting the timer. “You really think we are going to have sex?” You raise your eyebrows at him.

“How else can you get pregnant?” He scoffs, crossing his arms as he leans against the bathroom counter.

“Turkey baster. I’m your employee. We can’t have sex. It would be…weird. It’s only $1000 for insemination. You get to jerk off and they just -” You motion upwards, “into me and we can avoid the unpleasant sex.”

“Unpleasant sex?” Now he’s insulted. He pushes off the counter and glowers at you. “Now I don't know if I want you to be my baby momma.” He huffs. “Apparently I can’t do anything right, including fuck.” He turns around and walks out the door, this entire situation nowhere near what he had imagined and he honestly has his feelings hurt to learn that you think so little of him.

Your plan is working. Maybe if you can offend him, he will shift his focus onto you and away from a baby. Also doesn't hurt that you are making yourself a bad option for a surrogate mother. His cock though, fuck, it's huge and that was soft. You've heard the satisfied moans of pleasure echoing down the hall from his lovers so you know he knows what he is doing. It's just - he's your boss. You see everything. It's hard to picture the man who snorts coke for breakfast being a good father. The timer goes off and you check the results. Negative. Your eyes widen. He hasn't taken drugs for two weeks. Something you have never ever known. Biting your lip, you look towards the door he left through...maybe he isn't so hopeless after all.

Dieter grumbles to himself, hungry and itching in his own skin. Picking up the menu and looking at something to eat, something to do. He tosses it down a second later when nothing looks appealing. “Fuck it.” He huffs, making his way back to his bedroom. He’ll get dressed and see if Anika will talk to him again. She had been pissed when he had blown off meeting her father and basically ghosting her, but he wanted a baby and she wanted a life with him. He honestly doesn’t know why this has become such a thing for him, but it has and he won’t let his judgemental fucking assistant stop him.

While Dieter is sulking, you run your errands, and when you get back to his house, you are ready to work on finalizing his schedule. However, you’re shocked at what you find when you walk into his living room. He’s sobbing, holding what looks to be a baby onesie. You’re confused as you step closer. “Dieter. Is- is everything okay?” You ask hesitantly. Wondering what the hell happened with Anika to make him react like this.

It takes a moment for him to calm down. Taking deep, shuddering breaths. “S-she’s married.” He manages before he sobs again. “M-moved on and she- she- she-” His voice cracks and he clutches the onesie even tighter. “She’s pregnant!” He wails and buries his face in the little onesie he had seen and bought on a whim. ‘World’s Coolest Dad’ proudly printed on the front of the baby romper.

Your eyes widen, “married? Pregnant? You only broke up with her two months ago! How the fuck did she move on so fast? I – I am so sorry. I know you had feelings for her… Kind of.“ You frown and watch him continue to wail. You realize now that he is serious about this. “I’ll do it.“ You declare.

“You will?” Dieter’s head pops up and his tear filled eyes widen dramatically. Panting still from the crying, his mood changes instantly. “You’ll have a baby for me?” He demands, needing to make sure you aren’t talking about something else. When you nod, he pushes up off the couch and starts to pace. “I’ll call my lawyer. Have the agreement sent over.” He rambles, having already talked to his legal council about all of this weeks ago. They had their doubts but they hadn’t voiced them as loudly as you had. “You sign over parental rights to the child, I will have sole custody. I’ll pay for all medical expenses, of course.” He tells you. “And pay you.”

You swallow, unsure of giving your baby to him completely, signing over parental rights to him. “Am I- am I still going to be your assistant after this? Or your babysitter?” You ask, knowing you need to come to terms with seeing your child every day and not being known as their mother. “Would they know I’m their mother?” You bite your lip. It feels…strange. Being paid for having his baby.

“Would you want that?” He stops pacing and turns towards you, a curious expression on his face. He hadn’t really thought about that. About you wanting to be involved beyond giving birth. Although now that he thinks about it, he can see that. “You could keep your job, if you want. I want you to, but you don’t have to.” He promises. “What do you want out of this?”

“I - I’m not sure. I guess- I guess I want you to be happy. I would like to still be involved. I want the child to know I’m their mother.” You tell him, knowing you need to think more about this. “Besides, I’m sure you’d want the baby breastfed instead of formula.” You say, knowing he hates anything manufactured.

“Oh yeah.” He makes a face, nose scrunched and nods quickly. “I - I guess I just expected to buy milk.” He admits, biting his lip. He doesn’t tell you how he knows that breastmilk is available to purchase, sure that you would be grossed out by one of the few secrets that he had managed to keep from you. He didn’t view it as any different from cow’s milk if you really thought about it and it was designed for the human body.

You raise your eyebrows before you shake your head, not surprised that he has contacts for breast milk. He has contacts for everything. “I mean, I could pump. I just - I don’t know how I’d feel just handing the baby over and acting like they aren’t mine. Is that something we need to decide now? How involved I am?” You ask.

Dieter shakes his head, not wanting to try to chisel everything into stone right away. It’s very different from his very free spirited lifestyle but there is one thing that he wants to make certain of. “I just- I want to make sure that you don’t take the baby and I never see my kid.” He tells you. “My mom did that and I never- my dad died before I got to know him.” He sighs, regretting that he never knew that side of himself.

You shake your head, sitting down on his sofa. “I would never do that Dieter. Even if you fucked up beyond all comparison, I would still let you see your child if I had to take custody, but that would be if you aren’t capable. If I see you are caring for our child, making sure they are fed and looked after, then I would never question it.” You promise, knowing you need to think of this logically and not emotionally.

He nods, understanding what you are saying even if he doesn’t like it. “Do you really want to get pregnant by a turkey baster?” He asks, wrinkling his nose. “Carrying a baby for nine months and pushing it out without even the satisfaction of having an orgasm?” He shivers slightly, unable to imagine not having the pleasure of sex.

You bite your lip, unable to deny that you’ve always wondered what he’d be like in bed. Would he be submissive? Or more dominant? Is he selfish or is he a giver? You’ve heard the moans of pleasure from men and women alike so you are certain he knows what he’s doing. “It wouldn’t be weird? You having sex with me? I- I didn’t think- I know you aren’t exactly interested in me.” You rub your hands on your jeans, stomach twisting. He’s so sexual and he’s never even made a saucy comment to you. Nothing.

He cocks his head, confused by your comment until he laughs. “Not interested in you?” He shakes his head and holds up his hands. “Where did you get a stupid idea like that? Because I don’t hit on you?” He sighs. “My agent threatened to have me chemically castrated if I hit on you and ran you off.” His hands come down and cup his cock and balls defensively, cringing at the thought of never being able to fuck again. “He said you could handle my shit and I wasn’t going to fuck it up.”

You chuckle, knowing his agent would have threatened that. Dieter is a handful on a good day so he knows that you were the exception to the long line of assistants that Dieter has run off. You look up at him, eyes red from his prior sobs, and his stupid earring he got on a whim with the best piercer in L.A. It had to be the best. Then you look at his ragged t-shirt with a stain on it from his breakfast and down to his sweatpants that do little to conceal the impressive girth he has been blessed with. “So…uh, I know I’m not Anika but…you want to make a baby with me?” You ask, a little awkwardly.

“Really?” His expression turns hopeful, brows lifting and he breaks out into a happy grin when you nod. “Yeah…fuck yeah!” He laughs and rushes over towards you, stopping just short of touching you. “I- can I- can I kiss you?” He feels awkward asking but he has never touched you beyond your role as his assistant. “Please?”

You swallow, throat dry as butterflies flutter in your belly. It’s strange, seeing Dieter in this kind of situation instead of the man slurring down the phone that he wants McDonalds…not that he’d ever confess that when he’s sober. He always forgets about his high induced indulgences. You nod, exhaling shakily as he steps closer to you. You tilt your head and close your eyes as his hand cups your cheek. When his lips press against yours, you relax against him.

He’s fucking nervous. Butterflies dancing in his stomach wildly and for a second, he wishes that he has help from a little chemical calming. Taking his time and slowly deepening the kiss and sliding his tongue into your mouth. You were important to him, always standing beside him no matter what mess he found himself in. Even if it was because you were paid for it. You are still the person that knows him best and he groans into your mouth before he pulls back and kisses your lips softly one more time. “Bedroom?” He asks breathlessly. “The baby should be conceived in a bed, right?” He asks before another question comes to his mind. “Are- are you on birth control?”

You can’t help but giggle, “yeah Bravo. I figured we could have a baby with me on birth control.” You roll your eyes playfully, reaching for his hand. “I’m not on anything. It’s uh, it’s been a while.” You confess, biting your lip as you fluster. Between running around after him and traveling constantly, you haven’t been able to speak to anyone, let alone sleep with anyone.

“Really?” He’s shocked at that. You are gorgeous and the only thing that has kept him from trying to hit on you is that he likes the fact that his dick functions. He licks his lips and his breath catches in his throat at the idea of making you cum. “I, uh, I’d like to change that.” He admits. “Let me take you to bed? Make you cum?” He asks, even though you asked him to make a baby. He still believes in that age-old rule of consent. While he’s not particular about who he fucks, he wants everyone to have a good time and want it.

Your cunt clenches at the idea. Sick of using your hands or your vibrator to cum. The poor toy is nearly worn out. Especially after that role Dieter had when he played a 1950s gangster and had to wear jeans and a leather jacket on set every day. He looked so hot, it wasn’t fair. You squeeze his hand, “I’d like that.” You chuckle at his eager grin as he practically drags you to his bedroom. The large round bed in the middle was a bitch to make but you admit it looks sexy in the middle of the room. “Nice to be making a mess of the bed instead of making it.” You quip once you’re in his room.

He chuckles and turns towards you, sliding his eyes up and down your body. He’s always pushed this idea of you and him out of his mind but he’s eager. Hands reaching up to grip your waist. Stepping closer, he hums as he catches a whiff of your perfume and he groans. “I want to strip you down.” He murmurs, voice deepening as his cock twitches in his pants. “I want to taste you first. Bury my tongue in your pussy, or ass, whichever you want.” He adds with a grin. “Make sure you realize you won’t have horrible sex with me.”

You are a little breathless, unused to seeing the sexual side of Dieter. You seen every other side of him, but not this seductive side. You swallow harshly, “I - I’ve heard the screams of pleasure from the people you fuck…I highly doubt that.” You admit, your panties dampening at the fact that he wants to pleasure you. To make you cum. “I lied.” You admit, reaching for the hem of your blouse, “I- I don’t think it would be horrible to have sex with you. I just - I didn’t- I was lashing out.”

Huffing out a laugh, he reaches up and starts sliding his hands up your bare stomach as you pull your shirt up, cupping your tits over the fabric of your bra. “Which one turned you on more?” He asks huskily. “Me fucking a woman, or when there was a man in my bed?” He asks. “Did you want to watch? Join in?” He groans and pinches your nipples. “I wouldn’t have minded at all.”

Your moan is breathy, his words soaking your panties. "God. I- the women turned me on, imagining me in your bed instead of them. The men...it's hot to think of you with another man. I imagined me in the middle, filled - filled up with two cocks. Or the women, having them lick my pussy while - while you fucked them." You confess your deepest fantasies, composure lost when he pinches your nipples through your bra.

He chuckles, delighted to learn that you have a dirty side. “Naughty.” He hums, rolling your nipples through the lace and tugs on them before he lets go and slides his hands around to unhook your bra and pull it off of you. His cock is half hard, growing steadily and he loves this feeling. Taking the place of his drug addiction and he moans when he sees your nipples, ducking his head down to suck on them eagerly.

You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair, “oh God. Dieter.” You arch your back, pushing your chest into his mouth. You caress his covered back, tugging on the material where you want the shirt off.

He pulls back reluctantly, groaning as he quickly pulls his shirt over his head and exposes his bare chest before he dives back into your chest again, burrowing his face between your tits like he has always imagined. Kissing one and then turning his head and kissing the other while he pushes them together. Pushing you back towards the bed even as he is crouched down.

You fall back onto his bed, his body shifting to hover over you as he doesn’t pull away from your tits. “Fuck. They- they are gonna be full of milk for your baby in nine months time. Gonna - shit - gonna have to watch them feed from my tits.” You moan, suddenly discovering a slight breeding kink now that you are lost in a haze of lust. You caress his shoulders and back, shifting to open your legs for him to kneel between.

His cock twitches hard and he moans into your tits. “Fuck yes.” He muffles the words out, imagining your tits full of hot, fresh milk. He would fucking happily sample it, squeezing your tit and shoot a squirt of milk into his latte. He wiggles between your hips and presses you down into the mattress, letting go of one of your tits so he can slide it between your legs.

You gasp when his fingers press against your clit, making you moan when he rubs through your thin leggings. “Dieter. God. I- I want you to make me cum.” You murmur, kissing along his jaw as he shifts to grind against your thigh.

He smirks and pulls his fingers away, making you whine. Rocking back onto his heels, his cock tents the fabric of his pants while he leans in to hook his fingers under the waistband of your pants and drag them down. “Always wanted to see what your pussy looks like, tastes like.” He confesses, spreading your legs wide and groaning at the sight of your wet folds. “Fuck baby, look at you.” He breathes out, lunging forward and burying his tongue in your cunt with a loud moan.

The cry of combined shock/pleasure you let out is incredible and echoes in his bedroom. You've never had anyone eat you out with such...vigor. "Shit. Dieter. I- fuck. This is - God." You grip his stupid silk sheets as you rock into his face. "Yes! Oh God." You pant as he sucks on your clit.

He’s not thinking of anything but you. Loving the tanginess of your cunt and how responsive you are. It strokes his ego and despite you saying that you were lying, he has something to prove to you. Wanting to show off his skills and leave you amazed. He grips your hips and drags you closer to his mouth while his tongue pushes deeper inside you.

You rock into his mouth, unable to believe how good his tongue feels inside of you while his nose nudges your clit. “Fuck baby. So - so good.” You gasp, lifting your leg over his shoulder so he can get deeper .

Dieter is eager to hear you cum. To see you twist in pleasure and taste you flood his mouth with your release. His cock throbs but he ignores it, a true artist doesn’t stop until his muse is crying out in bliss and coming apart. Dark eyes fixed on you while he moans into your cunt, pulling his tongue out and rasping out “cum” before he sucks your clit into his mouth and sucks on it like it was a dissolvable ecstasy tab.

You hiss at the intense sensation, your back arching as you give in and cum. Flooding his tongue with your release, you gasp out for air as your cunt clamps down on his tongue. “Fuck. Fuck. Oh fuck!” You cry, rocking your hips to work you through it.

Groaning, he continues to suck on your clit for a few more moments before he lets go of it and pushes his tongue back inside you. Eager to lap up all of your juices and slurp them down while you rock against his face and ride out your orgasm.

“Fuck.” You hiss, unable to believe he made you cum that hard. You whine and push his head away after a few moments. “Baby. Baby, stop. I need - I need you to - to get undressed. I want to see you.” You plead, wanting to see his cock hard and throbbing for you.

He sits up, nodding dumbly, pussy drunk off your cunt and climbs off the bed so he can kick off his crocs and push his pants down. He’s not wearing any underwear so the wet spot on the front of them shows how he had been leaking pre-cum. Kicking them off his legs and standing tall, hands on his hips and looking down at you. “Still seen bigger?” He huffs at you.

You eye his cock, shifting onto your knees so you can reach out to wrap your fingers around his cock. “Fuck baby. I- I was being a bitch. This - I don’t know if you’re gonna fit.” You tell him honestly, your fingers not even touching when you pump him. You know he doesn’t need an ego stroke but damn, he’s impressive.

Dieter groans and bats your hand away from his cock. “Then let’s open you up so you can fit me.” He grins and pushes you back on the bed. “Fingers or toys?” He asks, lifting a brow. “I have a new one that has never been used.”

“Toy.” You tell him, wondering what he has in his collection. You have brought in several sex toys over the months so you’re curious. “Fuck, Dieter. I need something.” You whimper, shuffling to press your thighs together as he gets off of the bed.

He rubs his hands together and chuckles happily. “You stay right there.” He tells you before he speeds off to the closet to get the toy that he hasn’t opened yet. It’s one that he had been saving for a partner and not himself so he is curious to see what you think about it. He pulls it out of the package and walks through to the bathroom to wash it. Again, something most wouldn’t think he would know about but infections from dirty toys were nasty and he didn’t want that for you.

You sit up, watching him come back into the bedroom, and you are surprised at the dildo he is carrying and proudly displays to you. “Is that - Fuck. You bought that?” You ask, sitting up to examine the toy.

“Cool isn’t it?” He holds it up and winks at you. “It’s tapered so we can work you open as you take more of it.” He chuckles, holding up the bottle of lube that he would use with it. “No? You want me to pull out a different one? They are clean but…” He trails off and waits for your reaction.

“It’s…different.” You giggle, “let’s try it. I’ve never used anything like it.” You confess, shifting to kneel on the bed. “Come on, handsome. Use your toy on my pussy. Work it out.” You look over your shoulder, shifting to lean forward on your forearms as you wiggle your ass.

He hadn’t expected you to get onto your knees, grinning as he looks down at the purple tentacle vibrator in his hands. “You want this in your pussy, pretty girl?” He coos as he kneels on the bed again. Flipping open the cap of the lube and smearing a generous amount of it on the toy. “Want me to break you open to fit my cock inside you and fill you up?”

“Mmm. Yes baby. Please.” You pant, your cunt clenching around nothing. You whimper when he presses the tip of the toy against your entrance. “Oh fuck.” You moan, loving the feeling of being filled up.

Dieter can’t help but wrap his free hand around his cock while the toy slowly breaks you open. Giving him a view that he honestly thought he would never see except for in his wildest imagination. Slowly pumping his length while he pulls the toy back just to press it forward another half and inch more. Watching the lips of your cunt stretch around it. “Fuck, you are taking it well.” He groans, twitching in his hand as he imagines pushing inside you. “You want to cum again?” He switches on the vibrator of the toy and angles it down.

“Oh God. I- shit - didn’t know it vibrated. Fuck. Baby, I- yes. I want to cum again. Please baby. Make me cum.” You plead, rocking back onto the toy, gasping when it stretches you out and pushes against something incredible inside of you. “Yes. That feels good. So good.”

Dieter hums, steadily working the toy in and out of your cunt, each push just a little easier every time, going just a bit deeper. Working you open expertly. His hand works his cock, giving him some relief and he can’t wait to push inside you himself. Feel how tight you are around him. “Good”. He groans. “Cum for me. Wanna see it.”

You rock back onto the toy, moaning his name as you tilt your hips and the toy hits that spot inside of you. “Oh shit. Yes. Right there.” You choke, rocking back onto the toy to hit that same spot and after a few rocks of your hips, you cum. Clamping down on the toy and soaking it as you cry out, echoing off of the walls of his bedroom.

He grins, loving how your back arches and your thighs tremble. Letting go of his cock and he starts rubbing your puckered hole while thrusting the toy into you faster. Wanting you to cum again and take all of the toy down to the base. “Fuck.” He hisses, high off of hearing your cries of pleasure.

“Oh fuck!” You squeal when his thumb rubs your puckered hole, the toy moving faster inside of you. “Fuck. Dieter. Oh shit.” You grip the sheets, thrusting back onto the toy until you can’t do anything but struggle to keep your ass in the air. “I’m gonna - I’m gonna - oh shit!” You scream, clamping down on the toy again.

A dribble of precum falls off the tip of his cock, leaking heavily while you cum. The base of the toy pressed against your lips and he knows that you can take him now. He slowly slips the toy out of your cunt and admires how it flutters, the hole a hell of a lot bigger than it was when he first started using the toy on you. “Are you ready?” He asks, running his hand over your ass.

You swallow, looking over your shoulder at him. The air suddenly feels heavy with what you’re about to do. This isn’t just sex. This is babymaking sex, and the weight of it makes you shudder with nerves. You nod, certain of your decision, and you shift to kneel. “How do you want me?” You ask, wondering what position he wants you in to conceive.

“I-“ He stops and rubs the back of his neck, suddenly wondering why he is nervous for what he is about to ask for. “Is missionary okay?” He asks quietly. “I want- is it okay to kiss you- while we?” He breaks off, looking away and blushing.

You smile, nodding. “Yeah. We can do that.” You shift to lay down, thinking it’s sweet that he wants to be able to kiss you. He’s blushing as well. You were certain that he wanted to fuck you hard and fast, get this over with. You exhale shakily as you watch him shift to kneel between your thighs, his cock leaking pre-cum and twitching. “You ready to make a baby, Bravo?” You tease to lighten the mood.

“Fuck yes.” He groans, pausing and tilting his head down at you. “This is the first time I’ve done this.” He tells you. “Fucked to make a baby, that is.” He clarifies, like you would have ever thought of him a virgin. His hand slides up your thigh, pulling it up over his hip before he braces his weight over you. Looking down and guiding himself to press at your entrance. “Ready?” He asks, pushing inside you slowly when you nod, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours while his cock slides in.

Your gasp is smothered by his mouth as his tongue slides in to caress yours while he pushes into you. You grip his shoulders, ignoring the slight sting from his girth stretching you out despite opening you up with the toy. You've had sex many times in your life but this feels different. It's not like making love with a boyfriend, this feels weighted. This sex is to create a baby and it makes your heart pound in your chest.

Dieter groans when he bottoms out, pausing for a moment and closing his eyes. Savoring the feel of you around him. It’s been awhile, and he doesn’t want to just pump you full of his cum and be done. There’s a few things he wants to do with you and if you enjoy this, maybe you won’t say no. “Feels good.” He pants, kissing the side of your mouth and twitching inside you. “Fuck - really good.”

You wrap your legs around him, pushing him impossibly deeper, and when he begins to rock his hips, you tilt your head back and sigh in bliss. He takes the opportunity to kiss along your neck, his body barely moving as he just moves his hips, almost reluctant to pull out of you more than a few inches. "Dieter. Fuck. I just - didn't know you were this good."

“You weren’t listening closely then.” He grunts, teasing you and hissing when you clench down around him. “Fuck.” He kisses down your jaw and nuzzles your ear steadily rocking into you. “So that means we can do this again?” He ventures, shifting so that he can lower himself down more, moving to his elbows instead of his hands.

You chuckle, pressing your heels into his lower back. “Depends on how hard you make me cum, Bravo. Perhaps it will only be this - this time. Besides, it only takes one time to get pregnant. Mind you, your - your fucking sperm are probably high too. Slows them down.” You chuckle breathlessly.

He huffs and bites you playfully. “May-maybe I need to take speed then.” He jokes, fingers curling around your shoulder and he gives another deep thrust of his hips. “Or just keep myself buried deep.” He groans, pulling back an inch and rocking forward again.

You cry out when he hits deep inside of you, his cock stretching you with each thrust. “Or just stop drugs altogether.” You suggest breathily, knowing he won’t do it but it would be best for the child.

He chuckles, “we’ll see.” He offers, despite knowing it’s his only pleasure in life. However, your tight cunt could quickly take second place.

“Faster. I want - I want you to make me cum. Apparently it helps with conception.” You tell him, half joking as you reach between you to rub your clit.

Once you give him the go ahead to start moving faster, Dieter loses control. Starting to frantically thrust into you, moaning and biting his lip while he tries to keep from cumming too soon. “Cum.” He begs, keeping his thrusts hard and deep inside you. “Cum for me, cum and I’ll get you pregnant.” He promises.

You rub your clit frantically as he pushes into you. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Diet- I’m gonna - I’m gonna - oh shit!” You shriek beneath him as you clamp down on his cock, making him feel impossibly bigger as he moves inside of you. You pant, unable to believe how hard he is making you orgasm.

Groaning, Dieter turns his head, dark eyes on you and he presses his lips to yours while you cling to him. Rocking you through your high, he chases his own. Grunts bubbling out of his chest and he had planned to make you cum again but you are too fucking tight. “I’m sorry.” He gasps out, thrusting deep and his body jerks as hot ropes of cum spurt out of his cock to paint your womb.

You exhale shakily, knowing how poignant this moment is. This could be the moment you conceive his child. You kiss his jaw, seeing the heavy look on his face, and you know he knows how precious this moment could be.

Closing his eyes, he leans in and presses his forehead to yours, gently rocking his hips and trying to keep as much of his cum inside you as he can. Finally not moving, buried deep inside of you as he opens his eyes and gives you a slightly bashful smile. “Hey.” He murmurs softly, feeling better than any bump of coke could give him. He’s hopeful, eager to see if he’s succeeded in getting you pregnant.

You can’t help but cup his cheek, seeing the softness in those beautiful dark brown eyes. There’s a reason he’s a major movie star. “Hey.” You smile, unable to believe you just fucked your boss. Something you never imagined would happen. “So, uh, I guess we see what happens.” You murmur, lowering your hand.

Dieter lifts his brows, glancing down your body and nodding. “Yeah.” He agrees breathlessly, shifting back and pulling out of you as easily as he can. When his cock pulls out with a plop, his cum starts sliding out of you and his eyes widen. “Fuck.” He curses, grabbing a pillow to shove under your hips. “Keep it in, keep it in!”

You shift quickly, keeping your hips up. “You know, I don’t think that actually makes any difference.” You raise your eyebrows at him.

“Maybe not but I don’t want to risk anything. You need to stay there for thirty minutes.” He says and you huff, “can you at least get my phone and get me a snack?”

“Snack, uh yeah, snack.” He snaps his fingers and hops off the bed to pull on his pants again despite the nearly dry precum stain. “I’ll get you a snack, something healthy right? I think I’ve got something. And some water.” He rushes out of the room to figure out what he can get you, slightly panicking because he didn’t look up foods pregnant women couldn’t eat.

You relax into his soft, stupidly round, bed, and look up when he walks back in with a plate of celery. “Um…I appreciate you getting that but…I’m - I meant an actual snack. Not just celery. You didn’t even get a dip.” You chuckle at how hopeless he is sometimes.

“I didn’t know - I didn’t Google what you can and can’t eat while pregnant.”

You shake your head, “I’m not pregnant yet.”

“Oh yeah, uh- I have the leftovers from that charcuterie board you ordered for me the other day.” He offers, setting down the plate and a bottle of water before he digs your phone out of his pocket. “I’ll go get that.” He tells you, turning around and rushing out again.

You sigh, leaning back against the sheets while your ass is elevated. You are firm on your decision to do this for him but you don’t know how you’re going to handle him hovering over you constantly. Maybe he will get distracted once the novelty has worn off. He comes back in with the charcuterie and you smile at him, “thank you. Gotta eat this while I still can.”

“Yeah.” He is a little conflicted, unsure of what to do now. “Well-” He claps his hands together, and blows out a breath. “I’ll let you enjoy it. I’m gonna -” He falters for a second, not really having anything planned but he doesn’t want to creep you out by staring. “Gonna go shower.” He tells you before he picks up the toy and disappears into the bathroom.

****

You sigh, staring down at the pregnancy test. Number who the fuck knows. It’s been four months since Dieter first tried to knock you up and you are wondering what is wrong with you. Maybe it’s him. You don’t know. All you know is that he is starting to get impatient, leaning against the bathroom door while you wait for the timer to go off. “You know, maybe it’s not me that’s the problem.” You say, crossing your arms as you lean against the bathroom counter.

He scoffs and shakes his head. “It’s not me.” He promises, staring at the test and wonders if insemination might have honestly been the best option. He didn’t mind the sex, fucking loved it, but as the months passed he was worried you might just throw in the towel. “I sold my sperm to a bank back in college.” He admits with a shrug. “Needed the money.”

You sigh, “maybe it’s me. Maybe I was a bad choice for this.” You cover your face when the timer goes off. “I can’t look at it. You look at it.” You tell him, blindly grabbing the test and shoving it towards him.

Dieter takes the test, wanting to reassure you that it is okay, but he can’t. You two aren’t in a relationship. You are only sleeping with him so you can get pregnant. He takes a deep breath and turns it over, choking out a gasp as he stares at the two lines. “I- fuck.” He whispers. “You’re pregnant.”

You lower your hand from your widened eyes. “What?” You gasp, stepping towards him. “I’m - the test. It’s positive. I’m pregnant?” You ask in disbelief. Grabbing the test, you start at it in shock. “I’m - I’m pregnant.” You grin, staring at the test.

He grins, wanting to lean in and kiss you, but he doesn’t. You are pregnant and you hadn’t agreed to anything beyond conception. Leaning over and staring at the test in awe. “You’re pregnant. I’m going to be a dad.” He murmurs, eyes widening with glee. “I’m going to be a dad!” He cries out happy, breaking out into a silly dance.

You giggle, watching him dance for joy before it hits you that he’s gonna be a dad, but you can’t say you’re going to be a mother. You place your hand on your lower stomach, reminding yourself that you agreed to this arrangement. You signed the paperwork. You know this is his child. “Congratulations.” You tell him, lowering your hand, and you bite your lip as you set the pregnant test down on the counter.

Dieter looks over at you. “We need to make you an appointment.” He hums. “Get you on prenatal vitamins and make sure you and the baby are okay.” He can’t help himself, lunging forward and pressing his lips to yours while he hugs you desperately. “Oh my god. You’re carrying my baby!” He grins at you and turns around the race out of the bathroom to make the calls.

You watch him leave, sitting down on the toilet seat as you grip the test, continuing to stare at it. It’s strange, knowing this isn’t your baby, not really. You always imagined this moment to be with your husband or boyfriend, excited to be parents. Still, you agreed to this. You’re getting paid for this.

****

“We’re gonna get an ultrasound today right? I was promised we could look at the baby.” Dieter taps on the receptionist desk nervously, bouncing one leg as the woman types on a keyboard, checking the two of you in.

“Yes, Mr. Bravo.” She isn’t star struck, this practice took care of all manner of Hollywood elite.

“Amazing.” He breathes out, grinning before he turns back to where you are seated, filling out the paperwork. He sits down and looks around. “You know, they delivered Chris Helmsworth’s last baby.” He tells you with a nod. “He gave me the name of the OB.”

You hum, filling out the paperwork and he takes it to hand it back to the receptionist. This place doesn’t take insurance. It’s insanely expensive and you told Dieter you’d go to your regular OBGYN but he refused, insisting on this place. As you wait for your appointment, you waste time scrolling through your emails on your phone and you gasp in protest when he grabs it from your hand.

“Stop using your phone so much. The frequency waves are bad for the baby.” He shoves the phone in your purse.

“And who will be managing your schedule if I can’t access my phone?” You raise your eyebrows at him.

“I’ll just-“ he stops and thinks about it. He had been about to say that he would hire an assistant for you but he doesn’t. Instead he rolls his eyes. “Just keep it away from your stomach.” He asks, biting his lip and looking down at where his child is resting. He wants to touch it, to touch you, but you haven’t offered and he doesn’t want to push. It’s still your body.

You huff, “fine.” He’s already taken away your coffee, thrown every bottle of booze out of your apartment despite you telling him that you wouldn’t drink it. The nurse opens the door and calls your name. You stand up, looking at Dieter. “Come on then.” You tell him, grabbing your purse. You can’t deny you’re nervous.

His hand rests on your back, guiding you into the exam room and he looks around, eyes wide. There are diagrams of a pregnant mother, even a life sized display of a head crowning in a vagina. “Holy shit, it gets that big?” He demands, looking over at the nurse for confirmation before he looks over at you in amazement. “You see this?”

You chuckle at his wide eyes, “yeah. It gets to 10cm. Plus if your baby’s head is as big as yours, I’m gonna need stitches.” You snort. The nurse takes your vitals and then asks you a few questions about when your last period was before she tells you to get undressed and put on the gown so they can do an examination.

“You want me to step out?” Dieter asks.

You chuckle, “you’ve seen it all already.” You quickly strip off and shrug on the gown.

He tries not to stare but you are so gorgeous, even more so now that you are pregnant with his child. Biting his lip as he looks around, reading one of the posters on light spotting during pregnancy. He didn’t know women could bleed while they are pregnant. He frowns and looks over at you. “Are you spotting at all? Have you been?” You’ve been having sex regularly, at least once a day until you took that last test.

“A little but it’s normal. I thought it was my period until we took the test. It’s just - it’s normal. Nothing to worry about.” You promise, sitting down on the edge of the medical bed.

There’s a knock at the door and the doctor comes in, a smile on her face. “Hey. How are you?” She says, shaking your hand before she looks at Dieter, “are you our daddy?” She asks and he nods, a proud look on his face.

Dieter listens intently while the doctor explains what she is going to be doing, a serious look on his face. Using his ability to memorize lines in minutes to commit what she’s saying to memory. “I want to examine you, the test says you are indeed pregnant, so this is just a check to make sure everything is okay.” The doctor says with a smile.

You nod, shifting to lay down as the doctor examines you. You’re used to it with Pap smears but this feels different, knowing you have a baby inside of you. “Everything looks good.” The doctor smiles, “let’s take a look at baby shall we?” She suggests, lifting up your gown after the nurse grabs a sheet to keep you covered before they squirt the gel onto your lower stomach.

Dieter hovers eagerly, springing up from his chair and coming to stand beside you. Heart pounding in his chest and he looks at you before back at the ultrasound. The doctor presses the wand and he hears that sound of the fluid rushing around and squints, trying to make out the gray mass. “I don’t see it.” He worries, reaching for your hand.

The doctor chuckles, “your baby is very small right now. There they are.” She points to the blob on the screen and you inhale sharply, the entire thing suddenly very real. You feel Dieter squeeze your hand as the doctor points at the screen and you would never tell him, but you’re certain you fall in love with the tiny baby inside of you at that moment.

Dieter cries. Zero shame in it, blubbering like a baby right there in the exam room while looking at the baby in your stomach. “It’s a bean. Baby bean.” He sobs. Squeezing your hand and squeezing his eyes tight to try to control his emotions. “God, I love it already.” He promises, making the doctor smile.

“Do you want pictures to take with you?” She asks, making him nod eagerly. “Yes, yes we need pictures.”

You aren’t surprised at how emotional outburst, knowing he was excited and sad with every pregnancy test, tears in his eyes when it was negative. You swallow the lump in your throat, nodding at the doctor. You’d like a picture for your purse. You want to get everything you can during this pregnancy, knowing it will be the only time in this child’s life that they would be yours. The doctor cleans up your stomach, grabs the prenatal vitamins and tells you to schedule your next appointment with the receptionist after giving you the do’s and don’t’s of being pregnant. “See, I told you I can have decaf coffee in moderation.” You tell Dieter as you stand up from the bed to redress.

Dieter frowns, looking at the list and shakes his head. “I guess.” He huffs, unconvinced before he looks up at you. “You need to move in with me.” He announces, dropping the idea that had been in his head since that positive test on you like a ton of bricks.

Your eyes widen as you pull up your jeans, determined to wear them while you still can. “Excuse me? Move in with you? That- that wasn’t part of the deal.” You tell him, shaking your head. You’re not sure you could handle Dieter twenty-four hours a day. “You couldn’t pay me enough to live with you.” You snort, pulling on your blouse.

He pouts at that, huffing and folding his arms over his chest. “A few months ago you also said I couldn’t pay you enough to have my baby.” He reminds you before he drops his arms and reaches for your hand. “Please?” He begs. “You don’t have to- you’d get your own room and all. I just- I want to be there for everything. Help you when you get bigger.”

You bite your lip, considering it. You know you’re going to struggle with groceries and just getting your shoes on as your process through this pregnancy. Plus it would be fun to make Dieter run around after you for a change. “Fine. Fine. My own room.” You tell him, knowing how he gets when he feels lonely. Slipping on your shoes, he nods and you make your way out to get the prints of the ultrasound. God knows what awaits you living with Dieter.

****

“Come on.” Dieter huffs and frowns at you, giving you a pleading look before he slides his gaze down to your stomach. “It’ll just be around the house. I promise I won’t touch you in public.” He is slightly insulted, you insisting that he act like it was before the baby. You are pregnant with his child, he wants to touch your stomach all the time. “You get to touch the baby all the time.” He whines, hating that he hasn’t touched you in weeks, since the last doctor’s appointment and you’ve been right under his nose the entire time, moving in and sliding seamlessly into his routine.

You sigh, knowing you should let him touch your belly but you want this to be your time with the baby before they are born and you end up as their nanny and nothing more. Still, he will keep bugging you if you don’t let him touch you. “Fine. Come on then.” You gently pat your stomach, before you sit down on the sofa and wait for him.

He lights up, grinning from ear to ear and he rushes over to the sofa. Settling down beside you and when you grab his hand to put it on top of your shirt and jeans, he shakes his head. “Skin to skin touch.” He insists, pulling away and unbuttoning the top of your jeans and sliding down the zipper. Eager to caress your stomach, your skin again. He knows you don’t want to sleep with him anymore, you’ve not once asked him to fuck you since you found out and he understands it, the agreement was for making a baby, not pleasure. Still, he ends up jerking off in the shower nearly every night, thinking about how he filled you up, your tight cunt filled with his seed and now his baby planted inside you.

You huff but pull your shirt up, letting him caress the bump. The baby has started kicking but you haven’t told him yet, knowing he’d be like a kid in a candy shop and would never leave you alone until he felt the baby kick. “Better?” You ask, half teasing his eagerness to be involved in every aspect of this baby. If you’re being truthful, you’ve missed his touch. Having to rub your clit or use your vibrator at night while thinking of how he felt when he was inside of you. You know he will seek out lovers soon. Not one to go without sex for too long, you know he will find someone to fuck, possibly while you’re in the room next to his.

He groans, hands rubbing your stomach and he loves it. The small bump is perfect and he wishes that he could get closer. Shifting to the floor in front of you, he pushes his shoulders between your thighs, moving them apart and presses his nose to your stomach. “Hey little bean.” He coos, closing his eyes with a smile and his hands hold each side of your belly tenderly. “It’s daddy.”

You swallow down the lump in your throat, tears in your eyes at how tender he is. You can’t help but reach down to run your fingers through his hair as he nuzzles your belly. You gasp when the baby kicks, right against his hand.

“Fuck.” Dieter exhales shakily, eyes wide and darting up to meet yours. “Did you- they kicked!” He bubbles happily. “Woah. Do it again.” He orders your stomach nuzzling into you more and practically giggling when the baby kicks him again. “Oh my fucking God.” He murmurs. “This is amazing. Does it feel weird?”

You nod, “a little. It’s strange.” You smile, amazed at his awed reaction. It’s different to see this side of him instead of the drug induced demanding Oscar winning actor that you are employed by. You run your fingers through his hair again, biting your lip as you imagine him lower on your body.

Dieter nods, “you have a little alien inside you.” He jokes, nuzzling your stomach again and his mouth catches on the waistband of your panties. It’s weird but he’s fucking throbbing right now. Your scent is so close and he swears he can feel the heat from your cunt on his neck. “Smells so good.” He murmurs, closing his eyes and humming. His tongue darts out to taste your skin.

You whimper at the feel of his tongue on your skin. You’ve been so horny because of the hormones but you haven’t asked him to touch you, figuring he only had sex with you to get you pregnant. “Dieter.” You murmur, tugging on his hair a little. “I- I want you to touch me.” You plead softly, wanting to feel him somehow.

His cock twitches and he looks up at you. Eyes darting back and forth across your face before he nods. “Can I eat you out?” He asks, wanting to see if you taste different now that you are pregnant. He read that some women’s taste changes and he is curious. “Suck on your clit?”

You moan at his dirty words, nodding, and you push at your jeans, lifting your hips so he can pull them down your legs to leave you in your lace panties. “I need something. Need your mouth on me. I- it’s been too long.” You confess, reaching up to cup your own tender breast.

Dieter moans pressing his mouth to your panties. “Fuck I’ve wanted to.” He confesses. “Didn’t want- didn’t want to push you.” He pushes the material to the side and flicks his tongue over your clit. “You are so sexy like this.” He moans and seals his lips over your cunt.

You cry out, overly sensitive and he knows your body like his own after months of trying for a baby. He had prepped you with his mouth nearly every time and wouldn’t let you suck his cock, not wanting an cum to go to waste. You lean back into the sofa, a ragged moan escaping your lips when he sucks on your clit before dipping his tongue down to your entrance, pushing inside. “Shit, Dieter. That - that feels so good.”

Dieter groans, looking up at you, even as he puts his hands back on your belly. He loved eating you out while you were trying and he’s missed it. Those breathy moans and cries of his name stroking his ego and making him harder than a rock. He curls his tongue up, pressing against your wall and makes sure his nose is right up against your bundle of nerves.

You whine, arching your back as his nose nudges your clit, and it sends you over the edge. You cry out, a moan escaping your lips as you cum. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Yes!” You choke, feeling like your entire body is shaking as you orgasm quicker than you ever have in your life.

He honestly hates that you’ve cum so quickly. Easing up on the pressure of his mouth to softly carry you through it, he wishes it had lasted longer. That you had twisted and bucked up under his mouth more. Watching you until you whine again and then he pulls away, covering your pussy with your panties again and kissing your belly once more before he rocks back on his heels, his mouth soaked in your juices.

Your chest heaves as you look down at him, knowing his cock must be hard. You reach down to grip his slicked up chin. “I need you to fuck me.” You order, looking into his nearly black eyes.

“Yes ma’am.” He nods, scrambling to stand up and he pulls his ragged t-shirt over his hand before shoving down his sweatpants. You moan at the sight of his hard cock, reaching out to wrap your fingers around him.

“You horny, baby?” You coo, twisting your wrist as you pump him before swiping your thumb over the leaking head.

“Fuck yes.” His chin drops down to his chest and he moans loudly when you squeeze him tight. “Oh fuck, fuck.” He hisses, pulling his hips back and diving for your waist to strip your panties off. “Need to fuck you.” He pants, pulling them off and tossing them on the coffee table. “Wanted to for so long.” He shuffles forward again and bites his lip. “How?”

You shuffle to stand up from the sofa, admiring the way his cock bobs as he shifts to let you position yourself how you want. “Sit down.” You order and he nods, quickly moving to sit down on the sofa. You turn your back and shift to hover over him. Reaching between you to grip his cock, you position him at your entrance before you sink down, shifting to lean back against him so your bump isn’t pressed against his torso. “Fuck.” You groan when he is fully seated, turning your head to kiss his jaw as you stretch around his girth, still feeling the pinch despite taking him many times.

“Fuck.” Dieter hisses, digging his fingers into your thighs and twitching inside you. “Fuck, you’re always so tight. How are you so tight?” He murmurs, kissing along your shoulder. “Want to paint you.” He murmurs, sliding his hands up to caress the belly that is housing his child. “You are gorgeous like this. Be my muse. Let me paint you.”

“Okay.” You reply breathily, imagining him painting you when you’re pregnant with his child. Perhaps it will be something you can convince him to give you as a momento when you hand your baby over to him. You grip his knees as you work yourself on his cock, slow and steady as you rock on him. “Shit. It’s - because you’re so fucking thick. That’s why.” You answer his prior question. “Just got used to it.” You confess, resting your head on his shoulder.

“So let me keep fucking you.” The words slip out before he can stop himself. Caught up in the tightness of your cunt and the elation of you agreeing to let him paint you. “I-I’ll take care of you.” He promises. “Whenever your little pussy needs my thick cock in it.” He groans and twitches again, sliding one hand down to rub your clit. Wanting you to cum again.

You moan at his words, “yes. Yes. It’s yours. All yours.” You vow, lost in the haze of pleasure to really think about what you’re saying. His fingers expertly rubbing your clit. “Want you to - to make me cum every day. Please.” You beg, rocking on his cock despite the way your thighs burn.

Dieter groans, loving the way you are squeezing him. “Oh fuck.” He reaches up and palms your tits, gentling his touch when you hiss. “Are they sore, baby?” He coos. “Need Dieter to suck on them for you?”

You nod, "yes. Yes. Need - need your mouth." You shift off of his cock, ignoring his whine of protest as you straddle his lap so you are facing him, your bump between you as you reach down to grip his cock again. Sliding it between your folds before notching him and sinking back down onto his length. "Shit." You hiss in pleasure, the head of his cock hitting just right.

Dieter lunges forward, pushing your tit up gently and wraps his lips around the nipple. Loving how you cry out and tug on his hair with every suck of his mouth. “Good.” He moans around your skin. Closing his eyes and feeling you squeeze him as you ride his cock.

You are gasping his name as he switches breasts, his cock hitting that same spot over and over again. You cry out, coming to a stop as you cum, soaking his cock and his name is on your lips as you shake against his body. You’re so sensitive now, it’s incredible how fast you can cum. “Yes! Oh shit.” You moan, slumping against him.

Dieter hums, feeling you cum and leans back. Pulling off your tit with a pop and looking up at you. “Feel better baby?” He hums, rubbing your back. He’s not going to keep fucking you unless you want him to.

“Yes. Yes. I- I want you to cum too. How do you want to cum?” You ask him, kissing up his neck. You’re lost in the aftermath of your orgasm as you hum against his skin. “Want to cum inside of me? Fuck me from behind or just thrust up into me. Or do you want to jerk off and cum all over my ass? Or on my face? Or do you want to cum down my throat?” You offer him the options, nipping the skin of the tattoo he has behind his ear.

“Oh shit.” Dieter’s eyes widen in surprise and he looks at you. “I- you want to suck me off?” He asks, slightly breathless at the prospect of feeling your mouth around him. You had never done that the entire time you were having sex before. “I- uh, you choose. I don’t want to push you into something.”

You have your answer at how breathless he sounds. "You could never push me into anything, Bravo. We both know that." You scoff, shifting off of his cock and kneeling in front of him. You grip his throbbing length, slick with your cum, and you lean forward to wrap your lips around the head.

“Oh shit, oh shit.” He hisses at how good your mouth feels around him. He barely keeps his ass on the sofa, almost chasing your mouth with you pulling back. There have been plenty of fantasies involving your mouth over the years and he’s in heaven with your lips wrapped around his dick.

You moan around his cock, jaw stretched wide, and you choke slightly when he presses forward. You persist, desperate to watch him cum, and you pump what you can't fit into your mouth with your hand.

“God.” He keeps his eyes on you, watching you swallow his dick down. “Don’t choke yourself, it’s bad for the baby.” He huffs, cupping your cheek and stroking your jaw. “Didn’t think you could do it.” He admits, groaning when you slide your hand down to fondle his balls. “Oh fuck, gonna cum.” He gasps out.

You need him to cum, wanting to see him fall apart and feel him spurt down your throat. You moan around him, hoping the vibrations send him over the edge and they do. He growls, eyes closing as he cums, his seed spilling down your throat and you swallow to make sure none of it escapes.

He practically melts into the sofa, stroking your cheek while he throbs in your mouth. Sighing when the last ropes of cum are swallowed down and he finally opens his eyes. “Holy shit.” He pants. “That was- fuck.” He chuckles. “I needed that.”

You smile as you pull off of his cock, licking the tip playfully before you lean back on your haunches. “I did not expect that to happen today.” You confess, reaching down to caress your bump. You offer him a smile before you groan, shifting to stand up. You know he will rush off now to study a script or get high or whatever it is he does during his time alone.

“Shit.” Dieter’s eyes widen and he looks at you. “You haven’t eaten.” He huffs, shaking his head. “We need to order something.” He pulls out his phone and opens up the app. “What do you want? No sushi, no deli meats or soft cheeses.”

You roll your eyes at him. He’s been trying to feed you constantly, make sure you eat enough for the baby despite you telling him you’re fine. “Oooo, you know what I am craving right now?” You ask and he tilts his head. “McDonalds. A Quarter Pounder with fries and a milkshake sounds delicious.” You groan, suddenly ravenous.

Dieter makes a face and immediately shakes his head. “Do you know how many preservatives are in that shit?” He grumbles, swiping through the restaurants and trying to find something that is a better option for you. “You need to eat healthy. The baby will be better off.” He tells you. “How about In & Out? It’s better. Or there’s a new all natural burger place that opened up?”

You stare at him, wondering why he won’t just let you have something you are craving when you’re carrying his damn baby. Your lower lip trembles as he rattles off some organic health cafe that does this boring salads that taste like shit and a sob escapes your lips. He looks up at you, eyes wide, and you break into tears. Sobbing, you shake your head at him. “You- you - you can’t just - just let me have - a - a fucking McDonalds. You - you asshole.” You cry, shifting to stand up and you reach for your clothes.

“Oh shit, don’t cry.” Dieter drops his phone and reaches for you. “Shhhh shhhh I’m an idiot.” He tells you, panic stricken by your tears. “You can have McDonalds. You can have all the McDonalds you want.” He promises, willing to do anything to make you stop crying. “Want me to go get it?” It doesn’t matter that he’s naked, he will be out the door in seconds. “I’ll go get it. What kind of milkshake?”

You hiccup, sobs softening as he tries to placate you. “Cho-chocolate.” You whimper, tears still streaming down your cheeks. You are a little calmer now that he’s agreed to get it. You have been having every vitamin he gets you plus eating healthy. Sometimes though, a pregnant woman just needs a damn burger and fries. “Tha-thank you.” You sniff, rubbing your cheeks.

“You just relax.” Dieter tells you, grabbing his pants and shirt, quickly throwing them on. “I’ll be right back with your McDonalds.” He promises, rushing towards the front door without shoes on and grabbing the keys to his car as he slams the front door open dramatically.

You walk to your bedroom, grabbing your pajamas and you settle on the sofa to watch tv after you wash up and wash your face. You feel a little guilty for your emotional outburst and when he comes back with your McDonalds, you tell him to sit next to you. “I’m sorry I freaked out. I just- I have such a craving.” You confess, grabbing some fries out of the bag and shoving them into your mouth with a groan.

“Don’t worry about it.” Dieter shakes his head. “Lord knows I’m dramatic.” He jokes, watching you start to scarf down the food. It smells good, not that he would ever admit it. He never remembers all the times he called you begging for McDonalds when he was stoned out of his mind. “I’m gonna go paint the nursery.” He tells you, having gotten new paints earlier. “Do you need anything else?”

You shake your head, ignoring the pang of sadness that you aren’t picking out the nursery together. Reminded once again of your lack of paternity bar carrying and birthing this baby. You sigh, shoving more fries into your mouth as you change the channel, trying to distract yourself from thinking about the future.

Painting for hours, Dieter grins and he stands back and looks at the room. It’s finished. He tosses his brushes in the varnish and nearly trips over the drop cloth he had put down. Flecks of paint speckle his arms and are in his hair, but he doesn’t care, eager to see what you think. “It’s done!” He tells you as he comes into the living room. “Come see what you think!”

You sigh as you follow him down the hall, stomach twisting to know that this is his baby’s nursery. He covers your eyes as you walk towards the room, guiding you inside and lowers his hands. Your eyes widen, jaw on the floor as you look at the walls of the nursery. You can’t believe it. Mind you, it’s Dieter Bravo so you’re not sure what you expected. “Absolutely not.” You shake your head. “Abso-fucking-lutely not.” You turn to look at him.

“What?” He frowns, “what’s wrong?”

You gesture to the walls. “Dieter. Are you serious? You cannot have cherubs…fucking on your child’s nursery walls.”

There are scenes of debauchery everywhere. Every conceivable position and act is painted out across the walls. A veritable orgy of cherubs engaging in sexual congress. “It’s not like kiddie porn or anything.” Dieter huffs, crossing his arms and looking at the walls. “They’re youthful, spirited. Lustful.” He waggles his brows slightly and tosses you a grin. “They’re doing what we were to make the baby.” He coos, reaching out and caressing your belly again.

You step away from him, walking further into the nursery to examine the cherubs. “They gotta go. There’s no way this baby will be looking at that every night and day. It’s - it’s obscene. I’m not a prude - obviously, I work for you - but this is too much. Dieter, a baby’s nursery should have animals or - or cartoons or flowers. Something sweet and cute. Not this. It’s incredible, you’re an incredible artist but you can’t have this in your baby’s nursery. It’s gotta go.”

His grin falls and he looks around the room, huffing as he examines it. Maybe it was a little too much. “Fine.” He grumbles after a minute. “I’ll repaint it.” He concedes begrudgingly before he looks over at you in horror. “Get out! The fumes are bad for the baby!” He tells you, rushing over and grabbing your arm to hurry you out of the room and to fresh air.

You shuffle out of the room, rolling your eyes at his overzealous nature. You swear he’d wrap you in bubble wrap if he could. After cleaning up the kitchen with the natural, plant based cleaners Dieter had bought, you make your way to your room to get ready for bed. You and Dieter sleep separately. Sometimes, you think it would be nice to have him spoon you, caress your bump, whisper sweet nothings to you, but you are glad he doesn’t. It would be cruel to do that nightly for months only to cast you aside when he’s gotten what he wants from you.

He groans, setting the roller down. Of course he’d snapped photos of the cherubs before he painted over them. Turning off the light, he knows he has to let it dry before he can paint baby appropriate scenes and he walks to your room. Knocking on the door lightly and poking his head inside. “Do you need anything before I go to sleep?” He asks, yawning and shaking his head in his exhaustion.

Your heart wants to ask him to stay but your mind shakes your head, telling him no. “I’m fine. Thanks, boss.” You smile at him, looking up from the baby book you’re reading. You guess you’d better know how to look after a baby if you will essentially be a nanny. A baby can’t be any harder than Dieter. He nods, about to close the door. “Maybe…maybe tomorrow we could go shopping for some baby things?” You suggest.

Dieter grins, nodding quickly. “I’d like that.” He agrees, wishing he could crawl into the bed with you. Now that he’s touched you outside of making a baby, he wants more. “Let me know if you need anything.” He murmurs. “I’m right next door.”

You nod. Offering him a small smile before he disappears after shutting the door. You huff, throwing yourself back onto the pillows and caressing your bump. “Don’t do it, you idiot. Don’t fall for that weirdo. He’s just gonna hurt you.” You tell yourself softly, shifting to look down at your bump. “Your daddy is insane but he’s gonna be great. I know he is going to fiercely protect you and he will never ever let you be anything but yourself. Whatever you want to be, he will be behind you. I just wish I could be there too.” You choke, tears in your eyes.

****

“Hold still.” Dieter’s eyes flicker back up to yours, slightly annoyed at the way you kept wiggling. Moving his canvas.

“This isn’t what I thought you meant, Bravo.” You look down where he swirls the bright yellow of the skin safe paint across your side.

“Muses don’t grumble.” He huffs at you, quirking his lips playfully. He might have gotten an itch, an idea while he was doing some amazing mushrooms. He’s tried to keep away from coke and other harder drugs. Knowing that he needs to be mostly lucid if something happens to you, even if he’s more or less functioned while high for years. “It’s going to be beautiful.” He promises, sliding his brush against your skin again as he paints your baby belly.

“It tickles.” You giggle, watching him as he kneels between your thighs so he can paint his masterpiece. “I thought you meant you were going to paint me. As in, a painting of me. Not on me.” You watch him as he bites his lip in concentration. He looks so fucking sexy it’s unfair, even with that stupid piercing and his stupid tattoos and his stupid scruffy hair. Shit, why is he so hot? You exhale shakily, reminding yourself that this is temporary. You’ll go back to being annoyed by his every move after the baby is born.

“I am going to paint you.” He promises, smirking at you and winking. “But I wanted to do this first.” He looks back down at the scene he is painting on your stomach and dabs at another spot. “One sweet and motherly.” He hums, cock twitching. “Another dirty and sexy. For my personal collections.” He’s going to miss this intimacy with you. “Naked, tits leaking, pussy wet.” He groans and has to reach down and adjust himself slightly as he hardens.

You watch him reach down to adjust himself and you bite your lip, wanting to have as much sex as possible before the baby is born. Who knows when you’ll cum again after you give birth. You’ll be too busy running around after Dieter’s child. You smirk, reaching down to shove his sweats down before you wrap your fingers around his hardening cock, pumping him slowly as he continues painting your stomach.

“Fuck.” Dieter’s hand trembles slightly and he tries to shake it off. “You’re mean.” He pouts at you. “You keep it up and I’ll paint you with something even more natural.” He warns, hissing slightly when you twist your wrist and smear his precum over the head.

You smirk, “maybe that’s the plan. A more…natural palette. Definitely non-toxic and won’t harm the baby.” You pump his cock, tightening your grip as you twist your wrist a little faster. “Or maybe I just like distracting you. One of the few ways to get you to shut up.”

“Y-you like it.” He argues, letting the paintbrush fall to his side and he moans. “When I-I talk.” He starts to slowly roll his hips into your grip, amazed at how tight of a hold you have on him. All he can fucking think about is you. Touching you, tasting you, fucking you. Every goddamn morning he comes into your bedroom to watch you wake up, when months ago you were dragging him out of the bed like a petulant child. “Fuck.”

You smirk at his reaction, loving how well you know his body and how you can expertly make him cum. “Feel good?” You tease, and his jaw is slack as he nods. “Want you to cum for me.” You murmur, watching those dark eyes as you work his cock with your hand.

It doesn’t take long, not the way that you stroke him. Firm and steady strokes, twisting your wrist and he moans at how good you work him. “Oh fuck, baby.” He pants out, seconds before he starts to cum. His scrotum pulls tight to his body and cock pulsing. Spitting out his seed to paint your chest with hot ropes.

You are grateful you’re naked as he doesn’t ruin yet another shirt of yours. His chest heaves as he cums and you work him for every drop, some spurting into his masterpiece while the rest covers your tits. After he slumps, you let go of his cock once it stops twitching in your grip, and you bring your hand to your mouth, licking up the drop that dripped onto your hand. “I think I made your masterpiece better.” You tease, looking down at your body.

“I’ve got to take a picture of this.” He groans, dropping the paint brush down onto the coffee table and leaning in to press his lips to yours. “Make sure we preserve this art.” He leans back and winks. “Before you ride my face.”

You whimper at the idea, watching him shuffle off after tucking his cock away to grab his Polaroid. He has taken several photos of you throughout your pregnancy with the Polaroid. Not trusting a phone in case someone hacks it. You wince slightly at the flash, watching him shake the square before setting it down.

He notices your wince and immediately frowns. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Cramp? Gas?” He asks, instantly on alerts for anything that could be wrong.

“The fucking flash. You idiot.” You roll your eyes, “it’s blinding.

He huffs, shaking his head at how dramatic you can be. “And I’m supposed to be the actor.” He chuckles, admiring the way his cum dries on your skin.

“Plus I’m horny. Watching you cum always gets me going. I want - I want you to make me cum too. Then I want Chinese food.” You admit, suddenly craving two things at one.

Dieter snorts. “You would probably eat while I was eating you out.” He jokes, lifting his brows at you playfully. “Should we give food play a try?” He hums. “Or should I order the Chinese and see how long it takes to make you cum before it gets here?” Since the outburst over McDonalds he didn’t fight you on cravings but he did ask you to eat healthy.

You grin, a giggle escaping your lips. “I want to see how quickly you can make me cum before it gets here. Don’t forget, The Golden Dragon pride themselves on a quick delivery.” You smirk, “maybe you should go work for them since you have a quick delivery too.” You joke, reminding him of this morning when he came within three thrusts inside of you.

Pouting at you, he frowns, even as he reaches for the phone to order food. “Hey…you’re like a fucking vice.” He defends. “And I woke up horny. It would be easier if you just slept in my bed.” He huffs, looking down at the app to order your favorites. He hadn’t wanted to push, but he likes the idea of curling up around you and the baby at night.

You bite your lip, you've been considering it, but then you say no because you don't want to cross that line. He works on ordering your food before he tosses the phone aside. "Time to ride baby." He waggles his eyebrows, trying to lighten the mood.

"I can't ride your face. I'm too big."

“No you aren’t.” He rolls his eyes and looks down at you, his cum dying on your skin with the paint and he thinks you look gorgeous. “You just won’t be able to see my eyes. Belly is big.” He coos, grinning happily. “But I want you to be comfortable. So if you don’t want to….”

You bite your lip, “what about…what about eating me out from behind?” You suggest, not wanting to ruin his artwork but you want to cum. The urge to rub your clit is intense but you don’t want to take away his desire to pleasure you.

Waggling his eyebrows, Dieter tosses the phone down and smirks. “Fuck yes.” He moans, having no problem with eating you out from behind. “Get on your knees, show me that pretty pussy and ass.” He demands, soft cock twitching despite the fact that he had just cum.

You whimper, shifting awkwardly onto your hands and knees, his cum now dry on your chest and the paint still on your stomach. You’re careful not to smudge it as you kneel, arching your back slightly as you wait for him to make his move.

“Fuck.” Dieter grabs your ass, massaging the cheeks and spreading them wide. Enjoying the view of both holes, fluttering under his attention. “One day I’m going to fill both of these holes.” He mutters to himself, leaning forward and lapping at your cunt, nose buried in your ass.

You cry out, both from his mouth and his words. "Shit. That - that sounds good." You confess, clenching your fists to remain upright as his tongue delves into your cunt. "Oh. It's so good." You moan, eyes closing as his nose is pressed against your puckered hole.

There’s one thing that you will never be able to say about him. You will never say that he doesn’t fucking love eating you out. Enjoys it almost as much as fucking you. Especially because he gets to see you soft and sweet after you cum. Making sure you are happy and satisfied while you are carrying his baby is top priority on his list. He’s even turned down a movie right now so he can be with you through every step of this and you won’t be overworked. He moans, dipping his tongue inside you before pushing his jaw down to flick it over your clit.

The shriek that escapes you makes him pause, pulling back slightly, until you reach back and shove his face back into your cunt. “No. No. It’s good. Keep going.” You gasp, rocking back onto his face. His tongue is fucking magic. Able to make you cum hard and fast, you’ve never had a lover be such a giver. Your head drops between your shoulders, wishing you could see him but the bump blocks your view. “Di- Dieter.” You choke, feeling so close to orgasm.

Your moan of his name just makes him go harder. Wanting to feel you cum again. Gripping your ass tight and repeating the flicks of his tongue over and over again, willing you to go over the edge and fall apart for him.

It’s crazy how fast he makes you cum nowadays. Your thighs shake as you keep yourself upright for the baby bump and you clamp down around nothing as his tongue flicks over your clit. “Oh fuck!” You pant, eyes closed as you keep your fingers tangled in his hair.

Pulling back, he hums with a pleased grin, right as the doorbell peels out. “You stay here.” He orders, slapping your ass playfully. “I’ll go get the chinese and a bottle of mineral water for you.”

You shift, still covered in paint and cum to settle back on the sofa. Uncaring that you’re naked as you look down at the bump. You’ve only got a few months left and it brings tears to your eyes. You’ve fallen in love with this baby and you won’t get to be their mama. You don’t know the gender, Dieter had insisted it be a surprise at birth so he’s been buying yellow and green onesies plus some weird organic cotton outfit he found on Etsy. You look up when he walks back in with the takeout, sniffing to conceal your upset, and you smile when he hands you the bottle of water.

“Have you thought about my idea?” Dieter asks, digging through the bag and starting to set cartons of food out. You tended to like a bit of everything so he just ordered all your favorites and there were leftovers even after he eats. Perfect for those 11pm cravings you have been getting. “I’ve found the perfect Doula and she can come sit down with you and explain everything.”

You grab the plate, groaning as you rest it in your stomach and use the chopsticks he hands you. “I, uh, I’m not sure. What if something goes wrong? I was born in a hospital. So were my parents. I'm just- I’m not sure.” You bite your lip as you look at him.

“She knows what to do.” You aren’t saying no, so Dieter crosses his legs under him and plops down beside you with his own plate. “We could do it in the living room or have a water birth.” He says excitedly. “Play music, get the vibe right.” He also wants to film it, but he will save that idea for later. “Just us and ou- my baby with the doula. No one coming in and out and harassing you.” He almost slipped up, almost said ‘our baby’ because he’s started to view it that way. Hates the idea of you not being the baby’s official mother.

When he says “his baby” your heart sinks. You know it’s true but hearing it out loud has you swallowing down the Singapore noodles. Suddenly no longer hungry, you set the plate down. “I’ll think about it.” You almost whisper, looking down at your bump. “I’m gonna - I gotta pee.” You tell him, grunting as you stand up and make your way to your room to wash off the paint and his cum while you cry.

Dieter frowns, watching you walk away, still naked and wonders what’s wrong. Lately you’ve gotten this sad expression on your face whenever you think he’s not paying attention. Worried that you are regretting agreeing to be his surrogate, he picks up his phone and starts looking into spas that cater to pregnant women. Maybe you are just uncomfortable and need a massage and some pampering beyond what he can give you.

****

“You cannot call your child, Panda.” You shake your head at him. He looks up from his phone, scrolling through the baby names. A rare sight for him to be on the device. You look down at your magazine, the one Dieter now gets delivered so you spend less time on your phone, and frown. Hating that you don’t have any say in what the baby in your belly is named.

Dieter huffs and looks over at you. “So what name do you want for the baby? One for a boy and one for a girl or a gender neutral name?” He asks, closing his screen and setting it down. Maybe you have a special name you want to use. He’s not picky, he just wants something to go with Bravo.

“It’s not my choice, is it?” You say, lowering your magazine into your lap. You bite your lip before you look at him again. “I- It’s your decision. Not mine.” You tell him, trying to not act like that bothers you. It kills you inside, knowing you won’t get to be involved with this child outside of an employment role.

Dieter sighs, shifting and bouncing on the sofa as he turns to face you. He’s stopped using the term ‘my baby’ and just saying ‘the baby’ because he’s come to realize that he doesn’t want to do this without you. You are eight months pregnant with his child, it’s been a year since you started sleeping together. He’s not sure, but he thinks that he’s in love with you, never having actually been in that staying kind of love before. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something-“ The doorbell peels out through the house and he groans, rolling his eyes and pushing off the couch. “Did you order potstickers or something?”

You shake your head, “no. No. I ate recently.” You don’t stand up as he rushes to open the door. Your eyes widen when you see the two folding beds being brought into the living room. “Uh, what is this?” You ask, eyebrows raised when two women stand there, setting up the equipment.

“A massage. I figured your back must be hurting, I know mine is, so I ordered us a, uh, couple’s massage.” He flusters slightly and you are taken back by the kind gesture.

“Really? Dieter. Thank you.” You smile, seeing the folding bed has a space for your bump so you can lay on your stomach.

Dieter grins and looks over at the women. “I’m sure they won’t mind you stripping down, baby. You want me to help you undress?” It’s not like he’s not seen you naked hundreds of times, you practically walk around the house naked now, but he wants you to be comfortable. “They have massage oils and everything.”

You groan at the thought, excited to relax after your body aches from carrying his baby. You nod, watching him step over to you and he reaches for the hem of your t-shirt. You watch him as he tenderly undresses you, kneeling down as he takes off your leggings. The women watch, both touched by his caring nature with you. Both had signed NDAs since no one knows about your pregnancy. “Thank you.” You smile at Dieter once you’re naked and he guides you over to the bed and helps you up onto it.

“It’s not too tight around your belly?” Dieter worries but you just moan happily, feeling your entire body relax from being able to be on your stomach for the first time in months. Chuckling, he kisses your forehead and quickly strips down himself, laying on the table and the two women drape towels over your asses and start to get to work.

You are moaning and groaning as the woman works your sore back muscles with the oil - no doubt it’s organic something or other if Dieter organized this. You relax properly, ignoring the fact that you’re going to be giving birth soon and giving away your baby. Your baby with the man you love. You would never admit it to him, knowing he doesn’t feel the same way, but living with Dieter during this pregnancy has made you see a different side of him. He’s caring, considerate, annoying as hell, but somewhere in between all the moments you’ve shared, you’ve fallen for him.

Through his own groans, Dieter watches you. Happy that you are enjoying the pampering. Wanting you to relax as much as possible. You’ve grown huge over the past weeks and the bathtub is where you feel most comfortable at night before bed. “We should - like, do this once a month.” He groans, hissing when the woman working on him finds a particularly tender spot and works on it. “Sound good?”

You are too lost in the haze of relaxation to retort that you won’t be in his house for that to be a thing but you just groan, letting him think you’re agreeing as the woman massages your lower back. “This is so good. So good. Thank you for this, boss.” You say, unable to stop the nickname/title for him from slipping from your lips.

Frowning, he huffs and he wants to tell you to never call him that again, but he doesn’t. Instead he lets out another moan when they dig into his lower back muscles. “Y-you’re welcome.” He grunts, eyes fluttering in pleasure.

The massage is over too soon and you groan when you have to shuffle off of the table, taking Dieter’s hand as he helps you stand up, placing the robe around your shoulders after he ties his own to conceal his hardening cock. Seeing you all slicked up in oil, has him ready to touch you. You thank the women as they pack up and Dieter tracks down his wallet to tip them. “Did you just use cash?” Your eyes widen. He hates handling cash. Says it makes him feel dirty.

“Yeah.” Dieter bites his lip and nods. “They preferred cash over Venmo.” He explains and and leads them to the door to let them out so he can fuck you. Once the door is closed, he turns and smirks. “So how are you feeling? Good? Mellow? Horny?” He asks, waggling his brows playfully and opening his robe to show you his hard cock. “You turned me on baby, all nice and oiled up.

You snort, hating the way your cunt clenches at his hard cock. “Please. It was you getting felt up that made you hard. You should’ve asked them for a happy ending.” You tease, trailing your eyes along his oiled up body. “I feel good. Relaxed and not sore for the first time in…forever. “I’m huge. You don’t want to fuck me.” You roll your eyes at him, “let’s just watch a movie or something.” You’re soaking wet, listening to his groans have turned you on but you know your body isn’t sexy right now.

“Not want to fuck you?” He shakes his head, that being the stupidest thing he’s ever heard in his life. “Oh I know!” His eyes light up and he smirks at you. “We’ll watch a movie, and you can sit on my cock and we’ll see how many times you can cum.” He suggest. “Let me massage your pretty pussy, it was neglected during their massage and I did promise you ‘full body’.” He jokes.

You bite your lip, knowing you should be putting some distance between you since the baby is due in a few weeks, but another part of you wants to squeeze as much time out of him before he sends you packing after you’ve given him what he wants. You nod, stepping towards him as you shrug off your robe, feeling self conscious about your body, your bump.

Groaning, his cock twitches at the sight of you naked. Undressing you had been for the massage and he had focused on the mechanics of helping you. But this….you standing there naked and full of his baby? He’s never seen anything sexier in his fucking life. “God, you look better every fucking day.” He praises, walking over to you and reaching out to caress your stomach. “So fucking good.”

You look into his eyes, only seeing the truth. Dieter may be an Oscar winning actor but you know when he’s faking it. You smile, feeling reassured and you tilt your head so you can press your lips to his softly. “What movie do you want to watch, baby? One of yours?” You tease and he wrinkles his nose.

“Absolutely not. You pick.” He tells you, caressing your bump still. You pull away from him, making him whine in protest and you grab the tv remote, scrolling through Netflix until you settle on some mindless comedy so you can focus on Dieter instead. Turning back towards him, you reach for him and press your lips back to his after tossing the remote on the coffee table.

He groans into your mouth, wondering how he ever went a day without kissing you. Addicted to it and completely in love with you, his sole focus is on making you feel good. Reaching up and gently massaging your tits, he slides his tongue into your mouth while the intro to the movie plays. “These are….” He starts kissing along your jaw. “Gonna be full soon.” He hums, licking along your pulse and slowly tweaking your nipples. “Can’t wait to see it.”

You gasp against his hair as he pinches your sensitive nipples, making you whimper when he kisses down your chest to take one into his mouth. “Fuck, Dieter. I think- I think you could make me cum just from that.” You confess, tangling your fingers in his hair as you arch your back.

He hums, knowing that has just been added to the list of things he wants to do. Sucking lightly and pushing his nose into your breast gently, as if he was actually trying to nurse. Feeling like he’s about to cum right now, half afraid he would if you produced milk. He moves you back slowly to the sofa, not wanting you to fall while he suckles.

You shift, him sitting down on the sofa and you groan as you slowly straddle him, your bump between you making you lean away from him as you sink down onto his cock. “You’re so far away. We gotta try something else.” You chuckle, noticing the way he’s clenching his jaw like he always does when he is about to cum.

“Turn around baby” He loves your tits but he can’t reach them comfortably with your stomach between the two of you. “Lean back against me so I can rub your clit and kiss you.” He begs, knowing he won’t last long. Sex with you is overwhelming, especially as sexy as he finds you.

You nod, shifting off of him, and you hate the loss of his cock inside of you. You turn around and grip his thighs as you lower yourself back onto his cock, your back pressed against his chest as the movie plays in the background, long forgotten.

“Look so beautiful.” He groans in your ear, pressing his lips against it. His hands wrap around you and hold you gently against him before one slides down under your belly to find your clit. “You are sexy, don’t ever doubt it. A goddess.” He huffs. “Nearly can make me cum just looking at you.”

You cry out, his other hand squeezing your breast, and you swear he could make you cum just from his voice alone. The honeyed words you know will fade once you’ve given birth, but you’re going to absorb every syllable you can for now. “God baby. You feel so good. Can - can make me cum just by talking to me. Love hearing your voice. So does the baby.” You admit, knowing the baby kicks like crazy when Dieter speaks to them. His fingers work your clit expertly and you try to rock your hips on his cock.

“Yeah?” He likes that. “Smirking against your skin and closing his eyes. “We’ll have to test that out.” He hums happily, rubbing slow, wide circles on your puffy lips and clit. Your slick skin sliding against his and making him shudder. “We’ll see if you can do it. I’ll read the filthiest smut to you while you sit on my cock.”

You moan at the idea, wanting to hear him say the dirtiest things to you. You love how experimental he is, always looking for new ways to pleasure you. You cry out, his cock twitching inside of you and you reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair, turning your head to look at him. “Make me feel so good. Always. Always.” You murmur, pressing your lips to his as you get closer to cumming.

“Yeah?” He’s proud of that, always wanting you to feel good with him. He’s learned a lot about himself, so much less selfish with you than with others. “Always want to make you feel good. Feel incredible.” He murmurs. “Love this.”

You want to say “I love you.” It’s on the tip of your tongue. Yet you swallow it down along with the cry of pleasure when you shift your hips and his cock pushes against something incredible. You pant, getting closer with every run of his thick digits, and when he nips your shoulder, you cum. “Oh shit!” You squeal, thighs shaking as you clamp down on his cock. He hasn’t even moved inside of you but the sensitivity just makes you feel like he’s fucked you hard and fast.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” Dieter moans, loving how sensitive you are. How quickly you cum for him. Nuzzling against your neck, his cock twitches deep inside you. “Want to, fuck- want to drink from you when your producing.” He confesses, his body lighting up at the idea. “Fuck you while I’m drinking your milk.”

You know he’s just talking dirty. You won’t be around for him to do that, most likely pumping to give him the milk for bottles. You still whine at the idea, squeezing your breast with your hand over him. “Want you to cum for me.” You murmur, trying to rock your hips.

Dieter grunts, thrusting up into you slightly. Rocking his hips up and groaning in your ear, imagining you sitting on his lap while the baby is sleeping, having a small taste of your milk while he’s buried inside you. Maybe trying to get you pregnant again. That thought throws him over the edge, gasping out your name as he spills inside you again.

You close your eyes as the way it feels to have him cum inside of you. Tears sting in your eyes when you know you don’t have many times like this left. You know he won’t want you after you’ve given birth. You stroke his cheek as he pants his way through his orgasm, and you lean closer to peck his lips. “That was fast.” You tease, “massage really worked you up, huh?”

Dieter hums, wanting to tell you that it wasn’t the massage. It’s you. Instead he squeezes your thick waist and kisses you again. “I- uh, will you let me do one more thing tonight?” He asks, thinking about what he’s imagined. “I, uh, I found the last little baggie I have in the house earlier…..”

You raise your eyebrows at that. Surprised he hasn’t snuck more into the house. You know he’s been doing it. You appreciate that he hasn’t done it around you, but you hope he gives it up when the baby comes. “And you want to…?” You question back, shifting off of his cock and grabbing the robe to clean yourself up before his cum drips out of you onto the floor.

Flushing slightly, he looks at your belly and then back up at your eyes. “I want to snort it off your belly.” He admits, knowing it’s irresponsible but he’s always imagined doing a line off your body, especially since you’ve been pregnant. “Or your tits.” He offers, smirking.

You bite your lip, looking down at him as he sits on the sofa, cock softening against his thigh. “I, uh, I guess we can do that. Just this once.” You tell him, wanting to indulge him while you can. Besides, some dark, secret part of you thinks it would be hot to see him snort coke off of your skin.

Grinning, he bounds up off the couch and leans over to kiss you. “You’re the best.” He gushes, rushing off to grab the small amount of coke that he has squirreled away. He’s eager, knowing that he will have to seriously cut back after the baby is born. Even more than he has been.

You clean up while he’s getting the baggie, not bothering to get re-dressed as you settle back down on the sofa. Inhaling deeply when your back aches, you close your eyes and focus on your breathing. “Everything okay?” He asks as he walks back in. “Yeah. Just back pain from carrying your massive baby.” You tease, rubbing your bump.

“Poor baby.” Dieter coos playfully, leaning down and kissing you and then your stomach before he sits down on the couch. “I’ll run you a bath after this, lay next to you while you soak and we’ll talk about those baby names.” He promises.

You smile, nodding and trying to stave off the sadness that it’s ultimately his choice. You watch him as he shifts to pour some of the baggie contents onto your stomach, grabbing his credit card to carefully, so carefully, create a couple of lines of coke. You watch him with intrigue. He’s so methodical.

He’s nearly giddy to do this, having your skin against his nose while he snorts the drugs up. The high of the cocaine mixed with the natural high he gets from being around you. You gasp, moving slightly and disturbing his line, making him frown up at you. “Are you okay?” He asks, wondering why you are grimacing slightly.

You nod, “yeah. Just the baby using my bladder as a bounce house.” You chuckle, wincing as you gently shift to alleviate the pain. He offers you a reassuring smile before he re-rolls up a dollar bill, using it to snort the remainder of the line of coke. Shaking his head as he presses his fingers to his nose, a wide grin on his face.

“Fuck.” The thing about cocaine is that the euphoria is instantaneous. He relaxes and gives you a soft look, reaching up and cupping your face. “So pretty.” He hums, leaning back down and licking your stomach, cleaning up all residue from the powder. “Let’s get my girl into a bath, huh?” He says dreamily.

You try not to react to him calling you “his girl” but your heart thumps anyway. You know, groaning as he takes your hands and helps you off of the sofa. You sway slightly as you balance when you feel it. Eyes wide, you look down as a clear liquid trickles onto the floor beneath you. “Oh shit. I- Dieter. My water just broke.” You tell him in shock.

“What?” His eyes widen and he looks down at the floor dumbly. “You aren’t due yet.” He mumbles, looking back up at your panic stricken eyes. “I- you’re in labor? You’re in labor!” His own panic settles on him and makes him jittery. “I- I- shit, I just snorted coke!”

You start to panic, knowing it's not time. You wanted a few more weeks before you had to give birth to his child and move forward without Dieter or the baby. It's going to destroy you. You begin to cry, "it's - it's not time." You choke, shaking your head. You make your way towards your bedroom. "I need my hospital bag and - and you can't drive so we need to get an Uber. I'll order an Uber." You murmur to yourself, tears streaming down your cheeks. You aren't ready.

“Shit, yeah.” Dieter shakes his head and slaps himself across the face, trying to sober himself up, although he knows that won’t work. “Bag, bag, bag, I’ll grab your bag.” He promises, rushing out of the room before he turns around and looks back at you. “Are you sure that wasn’t just my cum?”

You stare at him, “are you fucking serious? It gushed. You don’t cum that much. Plus I cleaned myself up. Thank - oh shit!” You hiss, bending forward as the pain in your back gets stronger. “Def-definitely labor.” You choke out, panting as you try to order an Uber.

“Fuuuuuuck!” Dieter whirls around and races to your bedroom, grabbing the bag you had set up for when you were ready to go to the hospital. He hadn’t gotten his way about the Doula, but he also knew that it was your decision. He wasn’t ‘pushing the baby out of his asshole’ like you had so graciously invited him to do. “I’ve got it!” He pants, running back to you and his eyes widen again. You’re naked. “Clothes! I’ll get you some of mine!”

You sigh in relief when an Uber is only three minutes away and you wince as you pull on Dieter's t-shirt plus some ragged sweats. You shove your feet in some sneakers and hiss in pain just before you open the door. "It 's getting - you gotta time the contractions." You tell him, unsure of how long you've been in labor when you've been feeling the back pain since before the massage.

“Right!” Dieter scrambles for his phone and fumbles with the apps until he figures out how to time them. “Okay, breathe in and out.” He had gone with you to all the classes, surprising you with how serious he took everything. “We’re gonna have a baby!”

You don’t retort, too busy trying to get yourself out of his front door and down the driveway to where the Uber is waiting. Dieter rushes forward to open the door and you get in the backseat, holding your belly. “Oh my God, you’re Dieter Bravo!” The Uber driver says, looking back once Dieter is seated beside you and the door is closed

“What? Yeah.” He nods and motions towards the road. “Cedars-Sinai.” He tells him. “We need to get there quick!” He huffs out right as you start groaning in pain as another contraction hits you. “Oh shit, oh shit.” He pulls out his phone and sees that you are about eight minutes apart. “Come on man! We’re having a baby!”

The driver’s eyes widen, “oh shit. You’re having a baby? Fuck, none of my friends are gonna believe this. I loved you in Hunger Strike.” He says, pulling back onto the road.

“Can you please just drive?” You growl, “unless you want me to have this baby in your car.”

Dieter texts the OB and tells them to meet you both at the hospital. “Shit, shit.” He takes your hand, hating how you are already in labor. He wanted a few more weeks of you pregnant. “It’s okay.” He assures you, brushing your hair back from your face and kissing your forehead before he leans down. “You couldn’t wait a few more weeks, huh?” He coos. “Want to come out and meet mommy and daddy?”

Hearing him call you mommy makes you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks and you feel so overwhelmed when another contraction hits you. You don’t know what to do, knowing that these are the last moments of spending time with your child before Dieter claims sole custody. You guess he’s just calling you that in front of the driver, who is frantically driving through traffic to get you to the hospital.

“Hey…hey.” Dieter waves his free hand around your face and wipes your tears. “It’s okay. They’re gonna give you the gooood drugs.” He had been skeptical about it when going into the birthing classes, but after they explained it, he had been all for you being high while pushing out his kid. “It’s okay. You’ll feel better. You’re doing so good, baby.”

You shake your head, “it’s not okay. It’s not gonna be okay.” You choke, feeling helpless as the car pulls up outside the hospital.

“Good luck Mrs. Bravo!” The driver says and you sob even harder, wobbling while getting out of the car until the nurses rush out with a wheelchair for you. Dieter grabs your bags, following you and wishing you could calm down and talk to him.

The great thing about having a private doctor is the suite they immediately escort you too. Making Dieter have to do nothing other than hold your hand while the elevator takes you up to the private birthing rooms. “It’s gonna be okay.” He promises, still not understanding why you say it’s not, but he figures it’s just the pain and hormones talking. “You’re going to be good, the baby is going to be perfect.” He grunts. “And we’ll pick out a name after they’re here, in our arms.”

The nurse tells you to calm down, your blood pressure is too high, and you inhale deeply, trying to calm yourself down. When you arrive at your suite, you are changed into a gown and they check your vitals before the nurse examines you. "Moving along nicely." She declares as she pulls off her gloves. "Just try and breathe through it and we will get the epidural going for you ASAP. Okay, mama?" She smiles and you nod, desperate for the drugs to take away the pain. Now you kind of understand Dieter's drug addiction.

Mama. Hearing you be called mama makes Dieter’s heart swell and he rushes over to your side again, taking your hand and kissing it. “You’re doing good, baby, so good. So proud of my girl.” He murmurs, sliding his free hand down to feel the way your stomach contracts under his palm. “Holy fuck.” He murmurs, eyes wide as the gravity of the moment hits him. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

You chuckle breathlessly, “really? I thought it was too much takeout.” Your heart flutters at his breathless chuckle and the way he grins at you. He kisses your hand again as you cry through another contraction. “Where’s the fucking drugs?” You hiss, closing your eyes as you try to breathe through it.

Dieter wishes he could give you something, mushrooms, weed, something to help. But all that would affect the baby. “It’ll be here soon.” He murmurs, wiping your brow. “Just crush my hand so I can’t jerk off for a while.�� He jokes, hoping to take your mind off the pain.

“That’s all you’re gonna be doing for the foreseeable.” You hiss, the pain making you moody. Eventually, the anaesthesiologist comes in, making you sigh in relief that finally you can have something to take the pain away. “Thank God.” You moan once the line is in place as you can relax a little.

He nods seriously, understanding that you will take awhile to heal and watches in fascination when they put your epidural in. “How do you feel now?” He asks you, now that you're relaxing, he can relax. “You need anything, water? Need to pee? Another orgasm real quick?” He jokes, grinning at you and winking.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. "Actually, I wouldn't mind calling my mom. She knows I am due soon." You tell him. He knows you told your mother, unable to withhold your pregnancy from her but she's across the country and you had explained that you're being paid by your boss to have his baby. She was shocked but understood it was your decision. She was still upset about you having her grandchild and not being in it's life, but it is your choice. Not hers.

He nods and pulls out his phone. He had programmed her number into it after you had told her, just in case there was some sort of emergency. “Hello?” Your mom’s voice comes over the line and Dieter grins, putting the phone on speaker so he can hold it out to you. “Hey mom! Guess who’s in labor?” He giggles happily.

Your mom gasps, "really? Oh honey. I wish I could be there. Is Dieter taking good care of you?" She asks, knowing he can be a bit zainy.

"Yes. Yes. He's been great." You answer truthfully despite the fact that he's still high from the line of coke he did off of your belly.

"Good. You take care of my baby." She orders, "I wish I could be there." She sniffs.

"It's okay, mom. I'll Facetime you once the baby has been born so you can see I'm okay." You promise, not wanting to tell her you will show her the baby because you know it will only make the situation worse

The words pop out of his mouth before he can even think about it. “We’ll fly you in next time!” He tells her, right before she hangs up the phone. “Shit. Hopefully she heard that.” He huffs, shoving the phone in his pocket and looking over at you.

You don’t answer, unable to understand why he is torturing you by acting like you’re going to be together as a family. You yawn, suddenly exhausted now that the pain has mostly subsided. You close your eyes, not realizing it as you fall asleep, needing the rest before you give birth.

You sleep for hours, nurses coming in and out of the room to check on you, offering him something to eat or drink. Dieter just shakes his head, watching the monitor as your contractions get closer and closer together. Deciding that when you wake up, he’s going to tell you what he wants. He doesn’t just want the baby, he wants you. He wants all of it.

You wake up with a gasp, the urge to push suddenly overwhelming you, and your heart monitor beeps frantically as you try to sit up. The nurses rush into the room, “you’re awake.” She says as she checks you over.

“I feel like I need to push.” You confess, turning to look at Dieter who is by your bedside again.

“You’re ready baby?” Dieter is immediately grasping your hand, kissing the back of it and smiling at you. “You can do it baby, I know you can.” He hums, reaching out to caress your stomach again. “Such a good mommy.”

You are too busy concentrating on your body to really hear his words, and the doctor comes into the room. “I hear we are ready to push?” She asks, and you nod, breathing heavily. “Okay mama. It’s time. Push when you’re ready.” The doctor orders after getting gowned up and examining you. You grip Dieter’s hand, squeezing hard when you begin to push.

His own gown and gloves on, Dieter watches. Holding your leg back like the doctor told him and letting you crush his other hand in the tightest grip he’s ever experienced. “Come on baby, you can do it. Love you so much.” He babbles, looking between your face and your vagina, currently crowning with his baby.

You ignore his words, knowing he’s just reassuring you because you’re giving birth. You cry out, breathing heavily as you pause from pushing. “It’s - I can’t do it. I’m too- it’s too much.” You sob, shaking your head. You don’t want to push this baby out. It’s gonna be your last moments with the baby before they are taken from you.

“Yes, you can baby.” He hums, looking into your eyes and smiling at you.

“One more big push and the head will be out.” The doctor says and Dieter gasps.

“You hear that? Give me a big push.” He pleads, leaning in and kissing your forehead.

You hiss through your teeth, screaming as you push, feeling exhausted despite the nap you took. “Shit.” You pant, tilting your head back against the pillows.

The doctor looks up at you, “the head is out. You want to feel?” She asks. You nod and she guides your hand to feel the head between your legs. You choke, tears stinging your eyes at the feel of your baby.

“Daddy, we are going to have you cut the umbilical cord.” The doctor tells him, making him nod eagerly, he had been wanting to do that. “Mom, we need you to give one more big push, so we can get the shoulders out.” She encourages you.

“Whenever you are ready.” Dieter squeezes your hand and kisses you again. “Whenever you are ready, baby. Push our baby out.”

You nod, sweat beading on your forehead and you scream as you push, bearing down as the baby’s shoulders are out and you sob when you hear the baby’s first cry. “You have a beautiful baby boy.” The doctor announces and you watch Dieter as he takes the scissors with shaking hand to cut the cord.

The doctor transfers the baby into his arms and he’s sobbing, unable to believe that this is real. He’s a father. Looking up at you with a huge grin, he brings the baby over to you, surprising you when he gently lays the baby on your chest after pulling down your gown so he has skin to skin contact. “There’s mommy.” Dieter coos, sliding his hand over the baby’s head, still covered in fluids from birth.

You look down at the baby, lifting your hand to caress his back as he cries in protest of being born and you stare at him in awe. You truly fall in love with the baby in that moment, having tried to hold yourself back for the entire pregnancy. When you realize you want your baby but you can’t have him, you continue crying. You can’t spend any more time with the baby. It will destroy you to give yourself a moment to pretend to be a mother to the baby you agreed to give up. “Take - take him away. I can’t - I can’t do this. Take him.” You plead with Dieter, closing your eyes.

“Baby-what?“ At that moment, the nurse comes back over to take the baby in order to weigh him and take measurements. “Baby, I- I need to tell you something.” He breathes out urgently, swiping at your tears. “Please stop crying, listen to me.” He begs, seeing your tears stream down your face.

You shake your head, “no. No. I- I can’t do this Dieter. If you want the baby, you need to go in another room with him and let me recover. I can’t - I don’t think I can see him every day. I can’t do it. I know you don’t want a relationship or a mother so I know my stupid feelings for you aren’t reciprocated. I am such an idiot. I fell- I’m in love with you and I- I know you don’t - just please. Dieter, don’t make this harder on me.” You beg, hiccuping as you look up at him.

He surges forward, pressing his lips to yours, groaning happily that you feel the same way. That you want this. “I love you.” He breathes against your lips. “I’m tearing up our agreement. I don’t want it.” He confesses. “I want this with you. I want you to stay, move in with me permanently and we raise our son together. Mommy and daddy.” He bites his lip and waits for you to answer him.

You cup his cheeks, looking into those dark eyes. “Really? You- you want to be a family? You love me?” You’re in shock, unable to believe he wants you like that. That he wants you to be a mother to his son. It’s your turn to surge forward to press your lips to his, “I love you too. I want that. I want our family.” The nurse smiles as she carries the baby over to you, settling him back on your chest. You lower your hands from Dieter’s cheeks to finally get a good look at your son.

“I want all this.” Dieter promises. “As soon as you want another baby, I want to get you pregnant again.” He murmurs softly. He watches you snuggle the baby and he smiles. Even though you still need to pick out a name together, he is completely in love. Unable to completely believe that because of his want of a baby, he had gained a complete family. You are the worst surrogate ever and he loves it.

You chuckle, “I just pushed this one out. One thing at a time, Bravo.” You tease, nudging your nose against his as he leans closer before he kisses the baby’s head. “Let’s start with this one and go from there.” You smile, looking down at the baby who is suckling on your breast, already trying to root. “Just like his daddy.” You joke, not even noticing the nurses moving around you to clean you up.

Dieter chuckles, “remember what I said about your milk.” He waggles his eyebrows and the nurse bites her lip to smother her giggle.

“Just as long as you leave enough for our boy.” You tell him.

“Our boy. I like that. Our boy, our family.” Dieter smiles, giddy with joy. Finally, he feels like he has a purpose in life after losing interest in acting. His new role: father. Hopefully, he will win the role of husband too one day soon.

MasterList

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@sociallyantisocialbutterfly @thewaythisis @thisis-theway @hanelijoy @readsalot73 @xocalliexo @cable-kenobi @roxypeanut @arrowswithwifi @badassbaker @javierpenaspinkshirt @wickedfrsgrl @lilangeldevil006 @fioccodineveautunnale @jade10077 @kirstiehenderson29 @fleurdemiel145 @pascalisthepunkest @tangledlove27 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @gamingaquarius @jaime1110 @yamaktaria @perksofbeingivyy @earl-01 @gooddaykate @emesispo @deathlife97 @martellthemandalor @a-ghost-in-the-tardis @dornish-queen @theocatkov @hb8301 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @sheerfreesia007 @visintaes @immortalstarme @takemepedropascal @nerdypinupcrystal @artemiseamoon @paintballkid711 @sirianisrock @engineeredfiction @frietiemeloen @mstgsmy @lilkermit14 @mrschiltoncat @thatgirlselectryc @lark-cale @hayley-the-comet @phoenixhalliwell @501theory @max--phillips @thegreenkid @chicken-nugget-puta @corrupt-fvcker @buckysbackpackbuckle @ohpedromypedro @moonlightburned @h-hxgirl @flightlessangelwings @f0rever15elf @kenedyybrooklin @mrsparknuts @meabravo @ilikechocolatemilkh @babybelou @aeryntheofficial @the-wishmonger @goblinqueen95 @awhiskeywithawinchester @thirstworldproblemss @xxidontwikeitxx @jedi-mando @castiel-barnes @20skai @barnes-dameron @artsymaddie @wigwitch @honeymandos @edencherries @sesamepancakes @darthadeline @april-14-blog @josepedropascal @mrsbarnes-rogers @heyitmelexie @bookshelvesandteacups @sweetsunflowerkisses @stardust-galaxies @mando-amando @blondekel77 @clydesducktape @justanotherblonde23 @rosiefridayrogersunday @moonknightscape @asgardianvamp21 @just-a-scavenger99 @lv7867 @thewayofthemandalorian @mimimi-stuff @linkpk88 @adamdrivercouldchokeme @jitterbugs927 @pascalsky @pedro-pascal-love @saltybreaddream @lovelyasfcuk @dinfarrik @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @leaiorganas @over300books @itstheanxietyforme @lucrezia-thoughts @sarahjkl82-blog @pascals-cat @cyaredindjarin @morrison-mercury @theorganasolo @kiwi-the-first @historianwithaheart @tonysdayoff @chibi-yuki @anewrule @sleep-tight1 @chattychell @ew-erin @pipsqueakkitten @wordsnwhiskey @cannedsoupsucks @oceanablue @stayherefor-evermore @iamburdened @antisocialshipper @bison-writes @captainjaspenor @doin-stuff @voteforpedropascal @kat-r-in @charmedthoughts @trippedmetaldetector @300mirrors @that-one-creepy-hoe @poison-ivy-girl90 @iwasbusybeingdead @dragons-of-the-usa @two-unbeatable-beaters @carbonated-beverage @166869 @lunaserenade @star-wars-hell @obiwanwhore @thisshipwillsail316 @supernaturalcat7 @selenium-drive @wardenparker @frankie-catfish-morales @notabotiswear @computeringturtle @the-ginger-hedge-witch @northernpunk @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @sarhabee @princessxkenobi @planetariumx @xuum-xuum @sleep-tight1 @mcueveryday @theamuz @greeneyedblondie44 @nyasiaaaaa @missstef23 @sherala007 @winter-fox-queen @dihra-vesa @andruxx @spideysimpossiblegirl @acourtofsnakes @pedrostories @pedrosbrat @noz4a2 @peachypoem @i-ship-it-ironically @strangelittlenobody @amneris21 @ikinmahlen @littlemissoblivious @elvenmother @punkerthanpascal @thevoiceinyourheadx @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @softpedropascal @two-unbeatable-beaters @the-witty-pen-name @alexxavicry @thirdtimesthecharm @hypnoash @evyiione @pedritopascalito @ezrasbirdie @dani5216 @knittingqueen13 @moparmama927 @nerdthickly @bport76 @thisisthewayyy @mswarriorbabe80 @tintinn16 @melody13522 @sequere-mei-callipygian @ncsls0515 @hellolitty @janebby @hauntedmama @kikis-writing-world @withakindheartx @practicalghost @xgoldenjenny @scorpiowidow @c4psicles-blog @spacenerdpascal @thatesqcrush @beardsanddetectives @loverofmime @xoxabs88xox @girlwholoveswords @balekanemohafe @bruxasolta @elinedjarin @deadhumourist @scorpio-marionette @actuallyprettylucky @jasminepaz @24-7-multifandomsimp @queridopascal @veronva @nagassia @lovesbiggerthanpride @fangirl-316 @anaaaispunk @dobbyjen @pedromandoverse @beskarprincessjenny @detectivecarisi-1 @joelsflannel @buckybarneshairpullingkink @ladykatakuri @bestkaistes @adancedivasmom @kirsteng42 @dumplinshee @thatpinkshirt @strangunddurm @everythingfan589 @bloodsoakedkisses @alessab @squidwell @deliriosinrose @the-true-ruler-of-freljord-blog @borinquenasoy @shadesofnerdlygrace @thesmutslut @elegantduckturtle @ficsbynight @bbyanarchist @safe-within-the-stars @harriedandharassed @millson87 @kaqua @pedrohoe04 @apologetic-applebees @bluelemodane @hardc0rehaylz @lavenderluna @dins-cyare @kaitieskidmore1

#pedro pascal #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo imagine #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo the bubble #tw pregnancy #tw childbirth

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