You’re a young pregnant woman staying with a grumpy, jaded 44-year-old man who is incredibly emotionally and touch-starved.


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TRIGGER WARNINGS:
✭♡ Age gap, pregnant, runaway, EXTREMELY LONG INTRO

If you can't be bothered to read, you probably shouldn't use the bot.

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PLOT SUMMARY

In a small town where everyone knows exactly how many sugars you take in your coffee (and who you took to prom in 1987), Clint Monroe has perfected the art of keeping the world at arm's length. Six feet tall, perpetually scowling, and with all the warmth of a February morning, he's what the locals call "grumpy" and what psychiatrists call "a work in progress."

After losing his best friend in combat, his son to illness, and his marriage to the aftermath, Clint has arranged his life with military precision: restaurant by day, solitude by night, and emotional connections firmly filed under "Not If You Paid Me." His only companion is Winston, a Rottweiler whose conversational skills are limited but whose loyalty is not.

Then the storm hits. Not the metaphorical one—Clint's had plenty of those—but an actual northeastern howler that sends the town scurrying for generators and canned goods. And while Clint is thoroughly prepared for wind, rain, and power outages, he is decidedly NOT prepared for finding a pregnant young woman sheltering in his tool shed.

Against every defensive instinct he's cultivated, Clint brings her inside. It's just for the night, he tells himself. Perhaps two, until the roads clear. A week at most.

But as days turn into weeks, and "the woman" (as he stubbornly calls her, as if using her actual name might cause spontaneous emotional attachment) gradually takes up residence in his house, Clint finds his carefully ordered existence developing unexpected complications. Like caring. And worrying. And the unsettling realisation that maybe, just maybe, there's room in his life for something other than regret.

Of course, letting someone in means risking loss all over again—and Clint knows better than most that the universe isn't exactly shy about taking things away..

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SUGGESTED RESPONSES
This is for those people who for the life of them can't think of a response, but want to RP. Don't worry Aster will think for you! Someone complained they still don't know what to RP despite the suggested responses. You guys like being spoon-fed like a child goddamn! But anyway. Here's a different version for you if you can't think ALL YOU LITERALLY HAVE TO DO IS COPY PASTE IT. You're free to add onto it. But there. No more thinking. Just copy and pasting.

Fluff Route 💖 (Soft, comforting, and heartwarming)

{{user}} stood quietly by the sink for a moment longer, watching the gruff man unpack the food with such careful precision. There was something almost tender in the way his scarred hands arranged everything on the table, despite his harsh words. She placed her water glass down and moved toward the table, easing herself into the chair across from him.

"Thank you," she said softly, not just for the food but for everything he wouldn't acknowledge. Her eyes took in the meal—perfectly arranged portions, herbs she'd mentioned liking once in passing. "This doesn't look like leftovers to me."

When he didn't respond, she picked up her fork and took a bite, unable to suppress a small sound of appreciation. "This is really good," she murmured, offering him a gentle smile.

As they ate in what had become their comfortable silence, {{user}} noticed how Winston had settled precisely between their chairs, as if bridging a gap neither was brave enough to cross. She reached down to stroke the dog's head, then looked back at Clint.

"You know," she said quietly, "for someone who wants his alone time, you make sure I never go hungry." There was no accusation in her voice, only a warm understanding that saw through his façade but respected it all the same.

Angst Route 💔 (Emotional, painful, and cathartic)

{{user}} remained by the sink, her fingers tightening around the water glass until her knuckles whitened. A month of this dance—of carefully measured kindness immediately followed by emotional retreat—had worn her down to raw nerves and unspoken words.

"Why do you do that?" she asked, her voice quiet but steady. "Bring me food you clearly made yourself, then lie about it? Care for me, then push me away?"

She moved to the table but didn't sit, standing instead with one hand unconsciously cradling her small bump. "I know what you're doing. I've been watching you build walls for a month now. But I'm not—" her voice caught, "I'm not going to break you like whoever did before."

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she finally sank into the chair. "I'm terrified too, you know. I ran away because I was scared. But I'm still here. And I think maybe you want me to be."

She picked up her fork, stabbing at the food without eating it. "You don't have to lie to me about wanting to be alone. We both know what it's like to lose people. Maybe that's why we found each other."

Dead Dove Route ☠️ (Intense, violent, and morally gray)

{{user}} set her glass down with deliberate slowness, something hard and cold settling behind her eyes. "You think I don't know what a prepared meal looks like versus leftovers?" she asked, voice low and steady. "You think I haven't noticed everything else?"

She approached the table with measured steps, her pregnancy making her movements careful but no less purposeful. "For a month, I've watched you lie—to the townspeople, to me, to yourself. Acting like you're doing me some reluctant favor when you're the one who keeps finding reasons I can't leave."

She sat down, leaning forward slightly. "You want to know why I was really in that shed? Why I'm really running?" A bitter smile touched her lips. "The baby's father isn't just looking for me. He's looking to make sure there isn't a baby at all. He's got connections, money, and a reputation to protect."

Her hand slid into her pocket, emerging with a small, worn photograph that she placed on the table between them. "I recognized your military unit patch the first day. You served with my uncle. The one who told me if I ever got in real trouble, to find the man they called Monroe."

She pushed the photo toward him—a younger Clint standing beside a familiar face. "So maybe cut the bullshit about 'alone time.' Whether you like it or not, we're in this together now."

Silly Route 😂 (Absurd, goofy, and lighthearted)

{{user}} snorted, a sound so undignified it momentarily broke the tension hanging in the kitchen. "Staff leftovers? Really?" She waddled dramatically to the table, patting her belly. "I may be pregnant, but my taste buds work just fine, Chef Monroe."

She flopped into the chair, picking up a perfectly arranged carrot and waving it accusingly. "This is the third time this week you've brought home 'leftovers' that are exactly what I mentioned liking. What did you tell the staff this time? 'The pregnant lady in my shed really likes rosemary'?"

When he remained stoically silent, she grinned and adopted a serious expression, lowering her voice to a gravelly imitation of his. "'Eat. Food good. Me grumpy man. Need alone time with dog.'"

Winston's ears perked up at this, and she reached down to scratch him. "Even Winston knows you're full of it. Right, buddy? Your dad's about as subtle as a freight train."

She stabbed a piece of meat with her fork and pointed it at him. "You know, for someone who wants to be left alone, you sure spend a lot of time making sure I'm comfortable. Next thing you know, you'll be knitting baby booties and claiming they're 'tactical infant foot protection.'"

Romantic Route 💞 (Passionate, heartfelt, and intimate)

{{user}} set her water glass down gently, studying Clint's face in the soft kitchen light. There was such care in how he arranged the meal, such contradiction between his words and actions. After a month of watching him, she recognized the pattern—every act of kindness immediately followed by emotional retreat, as if affection were a dangerous territory he dared not claim.

She moved to the table with quiet grace, her hand briefly brushing his as she took her seat. The touch was deliberate, a small act of courage.

"Thank you," she said, her voice soft but unwavering. "Not just for this. For everything."

She held his gaze when he would have looked away, refusing to let him hide this time. "I know what you're doing, Clint. I know these aren't leftovers. I know you check on me when you think I'm sleeping."

Her hand moved to rest on her belly, a protective gesture that didn't escape his notice. "You can pretend all you want that you're counting the days until I leave. But I see how you look at me sometimes—like you're afraid I might disappear."

She reached across the table, her fingers hovering just from his scarred hand, an invitation rather than a demand. "I'm not going to hurt you. And I think... I think maybe we've both been alone long enough."

In the quiet kitchen, with Winston watching attentively from between them, the walls Clint had so carefully constructed faced their greatest test—not in violent collapse, but in the gentlest of surrenders.

.・。.・ ゚✭・.・✫・ ゚・。.

AUTHORS NOTES

THANK YOU LOLA FOR THE COMMISSION! YOUR SUPPORT MEANS A LOT!
This bot was tailored specifically for Lola since it is her commission and it's so overdue.Sorry about that.
To those who have thoughts of complaining you can just go use another. As for those who are interested to RP and might ask "Why did {{user}} run away?"
That's pretty much up to you. I was gonna give a reason for it, but I've noticed some people prefer to have their own lore for these things I'll leave it up to you guys on why you chose to run away and how you got pregnant. Also, because if I give too much details on that the jllm might assume it can speak for {{user}}.

I REALLY RECOMMEND YOU GUYS USE DEEPSEEK FOR MY BOTS. DEEPSEEK DOES SO WELL IN KEEPING MY OCs IN CHARACTER ESPECIALLY THE WAY HE TALKS. LIKE ONCE YOU TRY IT YOU WON'T GO BACK I SWEAR. ALSO DEEPSEEK IS FREE.
Here is an easy and indepth guide to set up DeepSeek to upgrade your RP (dont worry it's free): GoldAnnie's DeepSeek Guide

Here is my server where I post short stories of my characters, lore, and art: Aster's Dreamscape
As for OC and alt commissions feel free to come to my KoFi: Sniffle's KoFi

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