The Nanny (The end)

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Warnings - Pregnancy, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, mentions of alcohol and DUI, going to prison, bad parenting, male tackling female, female abusing male

To mine and Timothée's surprise, Klaus was not weirded out by the fact that we were together. In fact, most of the time, he seemed confused when we prepped him for something.

"Klaus, y/n and Daddy are going to sleep in the same bed now okay?"

"You didn't do that already?" He'd replied.

"Klaus, you may see me kiss y/n now."

"Don't you always?" He had asked.

I realized the idea of me and Timothée together had made sense for a long time. Klaus was overjoyed that I was living with them. He'd wanted to help unpack my boxes. He made me promise every night before bed that I wasn't, in fact, going back to my apartment.

News outlets had caught Timothée and me on several dates together. This had caused some uproar from Olivia. She'd sent me many a threatening letter. Timothée always profusely apologized afterward, and offered me a massage. I always told him it wasn't his fault, but I would take the massage.

It'd been six months of domestic bliss. I was happier than I'd ever been in my entire life. Not to mention, Klaus was starting to slip up and call me Mommy. It made my heart soar each time.

Timothée was spoiling me rotten. I went to movie premieres in extravagant gowns. We ate at five star restaurants. We'd vacationed for a week in France. It was as if I were living a fairytale. The best part was, I didn't see it ending. That's why, when I started getting sick every morning, I didn't really pay it any mind. My life was amazing, so I threw up in the morning? Who cared? But after two missed periods I became suspicious. Sure enough, I was pregnant. I could hardly wait to tell Timothée.

I woke up a week after finding out the news. I'd wrapped the positive test in a box. I was going to give it to Timothée, as a 6 month anniversary gift. Today was exactly 6 months to the day when he'd showed up at my apartment soaking wet, and professed his love. I was thankful my stomach chose today not to be nauseous.

"Mon Amor, are you awake?" Timothée asked groggily.

"Yes," I said, turning to him. I took in his sun bathed, bare torso. He really was the best looking man alive, and he was mine.

"I can't get enough of you," he said, reaching out and caressing my cheek. "Every day feels like a dream with you, but I never have to wake up."

"No, you don't," I assured him.

"Do you know what today is?" I asked him after a few moments of lovingly gazing at one another.

"Hmm," his brows crinkled in confusion. He took a few moments.

"I give in, I'm an ass, I don't know," he said worriedly. I chuckled.

"You're not an ass Timothée, you're an incredibly busy actor with a very hectic schedule. I can tell you what it is, it's our six month anniversary," I told him.

"Is it?" He looked genuinely delighted.

"Feels like I've been with you all my life," he confessed.

"I know what you mean," I said gently.

"I got you a gift," I informed him, and his cheeks reddened.

"I didn't get you anything," he said sheepishly.

"So the dress you bought me last month, and the diamond bracelet a week ago, and the trip to France, are all nothing," I asked.

"Well no, but I didn't get anything for this specific event," he explained.

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