#so i forked out the money to get some of that fancy food

[senseiwu]

Misako ate all the food I gave her for dinner 🥹

#after a few weeks of her barely eating #thank god #she seems to LOVE the royal canin food #and the hills science food #she just. kept going back for her wet food #so i think it was a combination of the bowl and the food #cause shes got a shallower bowl now #that made her eat more but still not much #so i forked out the money to get some of that fancy food #rather than the ones from the supermarket #idc really if its expensive... i can afford it #at least for now #kittysako

[bluegalaxygirl]

Am i crazy? (Zosan X reader) P1

Plot: Reader hasn't been sleeping or eating, they wont let anyone touch then and keeps having accidents. Everyone if worried or thinks they've gone crazy but the reality is so much worse.

Warning: Domestic abuse (Not by the hands of Zoro or Sanji), Bad language, violence, self harm, blood, mental damage, forced kissing and manipulation.

Zoro X Sanji X reader, Poly relationship, established relationship, Reader is GN.

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8

It's been weeks since you last smiled, your face always tired and you body slumped when ever you sit or stand. You stopped doing all the things you used too, having to force yourself to do the minimum. Cuts and bruises covered your body form head to toe and the old scar on your lower back hurt when ever you did something, like someone was jamming their finger into it. The old scar looked worse than it actually was, You abusive ex stabbed you years ago and refused to take you to hospital, it took three days of begging and almost dying on the kitchen floor for him to let you out the house, your mother took you to hospital where you had to get surgery to fix the damage only for your mother to drive you back to him. You begged her to help you but his money was good, and she hardly had a roof over her head. It took you a while but you got out, you drugged him and ran away, left the island you were born on and traveled the seas. Joining the straw hats was the best thing that ever happened to you, you settled in quite quickly with the joyful crew and took it upon yourself to do all the chores and learn to fight. Falling in love again was hard but your two partners never crossed any lines, you were respectful, and they never raised a hand to you, they loved you and cared for you. Everything used to be so great but now you can hardly do anything without a looming feeling over you, a strange breath on your neck.

Sleep was impossible, whenever you fell asleep the pain in your back would get worse or your bruised ankle would get tugged, a kiss form one of your boys made you feel better but after words you'd feel a painful amount of pressure squeezing your arm or leg as if telling you to stop. You though you were going crazy and when you told Chopper about it he prescribed you sleeping pills. That night when you went to take the pills there was none there, you felt hopeless and just wanted it all to stop. Sanji made you more snacks than normal to keep your strength up and took up most of the chores around the ship for you, he praised you in every way but when he spoke like that you hurt in some way ending up walking away form him. Zoro refused to let you into the training room no matter how much you begged, he'd sleep near you where ever your sitting and staring into space. He'd try and get you to eat by sharing food from his plate but you always refused.

Dinner was almost over and you hadn't touched a thing, the feeling of someone looming over you made your heart race, no one was there but you could feel a breath on the back of your neck. Zoro sat next to you watching your tired and bruised up figure slump in the chair, his heart broke at the sight of you, he just wanted you back, the happy and energetic person he fell in love with. The breath leaves your neck as Sanji walks over standing behind you to look at your plate "Didn't take your fancy love?" he asks seeing your plate untouched. He sighs when you don't answer and picks up a fork putting some food on it "Please love, just a bite" he begs bring the fork to your lips. The pain in your lower back returns, feeling like a finger is twisting it so you push the fork away the pain subsiding as you do. Sanji sighs putting the fork back on the plate and taking it away from you and handing it to Luffy, the captain was more than eager to eat it, but he was worried about you, they all were but there wasn't much they could do. they had to trust in Chopper and hope you'll get out of your mental breakdown of sorts. "How about i run you a hot shower!" Nami smile getting up and offering you a hand. She was your best friend and tried her best to make you feel better. She would normally snap at someone for being like this, but she knew something was different about this, she didn't know what though. You stand not taking her hand as she walks out the door with you.

Zoro sighs watching you walk out the door, your cloths hanging loosely on your body, you were pale but with dark bags under your blood shot eyes. He hated it, he felt useless. Sanji sat next to the swordsman in the seat you left taking the mans hand trying to comfort the both of them. "Chopper" Zoro sighs gripping the cooks hand and looking across the table at the reindeer. "Yes?" Chopper looks up from the table to the two men. "Have you thought of anything else? Y/N won't tell us anything" The swordsman asks resting his head on his hand leaning on the table. Chopper looks down at his hands "The pills i've given them don't seem to be working but i am looking at other stuff, like teas." the reindeer looks back up with a sad smile. You're not talking much anymore and have refused therapy. "What do we do?" Sanji asks twiddling an unlit cigarette through his fingers. Chopper shrugs, he hates not knowing what to do, but he'll do his best no matter how hard the situation is.

Nami offered to help but you refused wanting to shower alone, maybe the hot water would help calm you down. The looming feeling was gone and you wanted it to stay that way. After getting undressed in the changing room and grabbing your stuff you headed into the bathroom, the shower running hot water, filling up the room with warm steam. Taking your towel off and putting your stuff down you stepped under the water, it felt good on your skin but the fresh cuts hurt a little. You felt around your body noticing new bruises on your arms and the one on your ankle a lot darker, running your hand behind your lower back, you felt the dent your ex left, it was sore and very sensitive, probably badly bruised too. You let the tears you've been holding back flow down your face, the water carrying them away as you sobbed under the shower. You managed to control yourself enough to wash your hair and then your body only to hear the bathroom door open and close. You froze, slowly turning your head to look at the door, no one was there but that looming feeling was back, your heart raced in your chest and you felt like you couldn't catch your breath.

A step hit the water close to you and you backed up into the wall dropping the body wash you were just using as you cover your mouth with your hand. More slow steps walked across the bathroom and to you only stopping in front of the running water of the shower. You trembled a little not knowing what was going on, maybe you have lost it, maybe you are crazy. Something reached through the water and grabs your arm pulling you through the water and throwing you across the room. You back hit the wet floor as you slid across the floor only stopping just before hitting the wall. You sat up and moved back about to yell out when something covered your mouth and pressure was leaning on your bruised ankle making you cry out in pain, what ever was covering your mouth made it very muffled. "Shhhhh.... don't worry little bird" your eyes widen at the male voice in front of your face, you recognized the voice and the nickname that makes you feel sick. A shimmer starts to form and soon vanishes revealing your ex boyfriend in front of you. His hand over you mouth and his foot pressing against your ankle. His other arm placed on his knee as he kneels down to you, his black hair now almost gone and his sickly handsome face smirking at you. "There we go" he whispers with a smile seeing you stop struggling under him. "You've grown over the past few years... i missed you" your eyes water as you look at him, all the bad memorized coming back to you. "Oh no you going to cry? i'm the one who should be crying" his anger boils the hand on your mouth squeezing tighter your hands going around his wrist to try and pull him away, but he's too strong in you weak state.

He sighs trying to clam himself and loosening his hand around your mouth "Will you be a good birdy and stay quiet for me?" he asks his eyes soft but you know better. You nod gritting your teeth as he slides his hand from your mouth down to your neck pressing you against the wall. "Good birdy, you still remember your place" he smiles pushing a strand of wet hair behind your ear. "You really hurt me sweet bird" he sighs leaning closer, you hold in a scream as his foot shifts on your bruised ankle only letting out a little grunt making him smile a little "I saw your wanted poster and knew i had to find you again. Im lucky you know, i had a lot of help but when i found you and saw you so happy with those two other guys" his grip tighten on your neck making you gasp for air trying to struggle under him as his eyes boil with anger "You're crew won't let you go willingly, so we'll have to make them kick you out" he slowly loses the grip around your neck as you pant for air tears falling down your cheeks "That's what i'm going to do. Make it so unbearable to have you around that they have to make you leave. i can't fight them even with my new devil fruit powers" he laughs a little shaking his head.

"W-What?" you whisper, his eyes connect with yours, he loves seeing the fear in your eyes. "There's this factory that makes devil fruits, it took me a while to get my hands on one, i was hoping i could use it to destroy your crew but when the Suke Suke no Mi fruit came along i knew it was the right one. The invisible man." his smile gets wider making you skin crawl "You've been doing this to me?" you ask your heart sinking in your chest, the past few weeks he's been around you, hurting you, stopping you form sleeping and eating and you had no idea. A part of you was happy you weren't crazy while the other part was full of fear. "Your too smart my birdy" he runs a hand through your hair before taking a fist full and slamming your head into the wall, you yell out in pain only for his other hand to go around your mouth again. "Now for some rules... Every time you do something wrong or that i don't like i'm going to hurt you like i normally do, if you do a good job I'll let you get a little sleep and eat a little, i can't have you dying on me." he leans closer to your face placing a kiss on your forehead.

"What are their names? Sanji and Zoro? if you touch them, talk to them, look at them or gods forbid kiss them i won't hesitate to kill them in their sleep, i want you to ignore then only and If you try telling anyone about me I'll make your life even worse" he lets go of your hair and wipe the tears off your face "I'm always with you and when i'm not, I'll lock you in your room where you'll be safe. i love you Y/n... All i want is to have you back, i'm the only one who can touch you" he lowers his hand back down to your neck and looks you over "I miss you so much" he whispers leaning in to kiss your lips but you turn your head away, you realize your mistake the moment it happened, you had no chose but to follow his orders and now you were going to pay the price. He growls pushing your body down onto the floor and getting in top of you to stop you form going anywhere. His hands around your neck as he strangles you against the ground "Don't you fucking turn away form me" he yells into your face before pulling a hand away and slapping you in the face, you cry out and try to push him off while yelling out apologies.

He lets go suddenly stepping over you and turning invisible as you curl up into a ball on the wet floor still apologizing over and over again. The door burst open Nami rushing in almost slipping in the wet floor as she stops next to you and gets on her knees to try and help you. Her hands touch your skin and you flinch away, you know he's watching you and you don't want to get hurt again "Y/N? what happened, your bleeding... there's no need to be sorry" she panics looking you over, seeing the back of your head leaking blood. She gets up and rushes out the room calling for chopper. You feel a hand on your back knowing it's your ex you don't flinch away knowing what will happen if you do "This time, I'll let that Nami girl and the doctor touch you... good birdy" he whispers stepping away as more foot steps approach. "Im sorry" you whisper one more time bring your hands up to your eyes to try and clear your eyes of the tears. Nami and Chopper run in and checks you over while Nami covers you with a towel and rubs your arm. You reach out your hand to touch her but pull away remembering he said they can touch you not you can touch them.

#one piece #polly relationship #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #sanji x zoro #sanji x reader #zosan #zoro x sanji #zosan x reader #one piece zosan #zosan fanfic #blackleg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #zoro roronoa #zoro x sanji x reader #halloween

[absurdthirst]

A Fork in the Road {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.9k

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, embezzlement, angst, desperation, irritation, mentions of anal plugs, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, blackmail, extortion

Comments: Coming out of his latest rehab stint, Dieter Bravo learns he's broke. Money and everything he owns stolen, dropped from his agencies, he ends up crashing with you, his former assistant. Living with you and trying to make a comeback in Hollywood, Dieter comes to a fork in the road. Question is, which path will he choose?

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||

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.

"What do you mean it's all gone?" Dieter asks the CEO of his investment company, sitting in his fancy office on Olive Street, and he stares in shock. 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Bravo. Mr. Lewis took it all. We - we have background checks but I- I do not know what happened with your money. He has transferred it to multiple accounts and the police are tracing it but he knew what he was doing. While you were away-" 

Dieter shakes his head, "I was in fucking rehab for three months. I come out and every penny I own is gone. Even my goddamn house. Who - what - someone should be responsible. I need my fucking money. I - I need to talk to someone about getting it back. Some reimbursement." Dieter growls, slapping his hand down on the desk and he could really use a hit right now to calm down. 

"I'm sorry Mr. Bravo, we will let you know as soon as we have news. The FBI too. This is a high profile case." 

Dieter shakes his head, "thanks for nothing, asshole." He growls, standing up, and he makes his way outside to hail a taxi. The state took his license after he was caught with a hospital worth of meds in the car, off his head on everything he could have taken without killing himself. It was stupid, he knows that now, but back then, he thought he was invincible. He only has one place he can go now. He gives the driver your address and when he arrives, he knocks on your door.

You pause the show you are watching, wondering who the hell is at the door. You didn’t order food and there is a very prominent No Soliciting sticker on your door. Not that you could buy anything anyway. Since Dieter has been at rehab, your paycheck hasn’t come through and every time you call Lewis’s office, they claim that he’s in a meeting and you will get a call back. It’s bad enough that you’ve been living on your savings and DoorDash-ing to pay the bills. Hopefully Dieter, will get his dumb ass out of rehab for the third time so you can get paid. “Dieter!” The man in question is in your doorway, looking miserable. “You’re out!”

Dieter pushes past you to enter your house. “I need your help.” He says immediately, spinning to face you. “I’m fucked.” He runs his fingers through his hair, longer since his stint in rehab. “I- Lewis is gone. He’s taken all my money. The house is gone. My car. All of it.” He reveals, “they can’t find him. Apparently the alphabet boys are trying to hunt it down but it’s gone and I- shit. I don’t have anywhere to live,”

Your jaw drops in shock. “What? How? Oh my god, no fucking wonder I haven’t been paid.” 

Dieter frowns and shakes his head. “What the fuck do you mean?” He huffs. “I pay you.” You snort. 

“Lewis paid me through your company.” You remind Dieter. “I was an employee, but I haven’t gotten a paycheck since you left for rehab and they kept telling me he would call me back.”

“That motherfucker.” Dieter hisses, pissed that you haven’t been paid. He never would have allowed that. You should’ve been paid even if he was in rehab. “I’m so sorry. Fucker, I can’t - fuck!” He shouts, clenching his fists before he calms down, remembering his coping methods despite the urge to call his dealer. “I need a favor.” He tells you, brushing down his sweatpants. 

“What?” You ask and he sighs. 

“I need a place to live. They’ve seized my house and I need somewhere to sleep. Can I- could I stay here?” He asks, face softening. “I swear you won’t even know I’m here.”

That’s a lie if you’ve ever heard one. Dieter is anything but quiet, or a good guest. However, you also know that without money or drugs, ninety-nine percent of Dieter's so called ‘friends’ are history. There’s no way you can kick him while he’s down, especially fresh out of rehab. It would send him straight back into a pile of pills. Sighing, you point at him. “I’m not cleaning up after you.” You warn him.

Dieter grins, rushing over to you and he cups your cheeks, kissing your lips. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” He rushes out, letting go of you and he grabs his phone. “I’ll get my stuff. Well, what I have left, from the hotel room I got yesterday after heading home to find I couldn’t get in my house. Thank you sweetheart. I owe you big when we get this shit sorted out. I’ll be back.” He tells you, typing in the address for the Uber. He only has enough money to last him a week or so, so he needs to get out there and start getting a new role.

You sigh and roll your eyes. “Save your money.” You huff, knowing that he won’t think about how expensive the Uber will be there and back. “I’ll take you to get your stuff so you don’t have to waste it on an Uber.” You know that he will land a new role quickly, he’s talented and your eyes widen slightly. “What about all your stuff? Your Oscar?”

“In storage apparently. The bastards let me have that and my Razzie. Hey, things get bad…I can sell those.” He jokes, despite knowing that even in his lowest moments, he never considered selling those precious items. “In storage for another two days or so. I gotta get it out.” He sighs, rubbing his cheek. “Bastard.” He curses Lewis, feeling like such a fool but he is determined to rise above it all. They will find his money and in the meantime, he just needs to get a new role to get some money coming in. “I’ll sort this out, promise.” He offers you an Oscar winning smile while you grab your purse.

You know that Dieter will probably sulk for at least a day or two. Which is fair considering he just had millions of dollars stolen from him. “I’m sorry.” You murmur softly as you both climb into your car and you start it up. “I know that you’re getting fucked over but I’m sure you will pick up a role quickly.” You pull out of the driveway and start down your street. “What hotel did you stay at?”

He flusters, “um, my cards have been stopped so I just - I only had cash. It’s the, uh, Motel 6 off of Hollywood Boulevard.” He bites his lip, knowing he’s had a hard fall from grace. “I don’t have a lot. Gotta get it from storage and I- I gotta look up an NA meeting nearby. It’s required.”

“Nothing wrong with a Motel 6.” You hum. You aren’t going to pile onto him. “We will get your stuff and swing by your storage room. See how much stuff is there.” As much as you rolled your eyes at Dieter’s antics, he had always insisted you be paid well for putting up with his shit. It was a lot more than other assistants. So helping him through this is something that you owe him. “Although, hopefully you haven’t painted the wall in this room?” You tease, reminding him of when he painted the murals on the wall in England while he was trapped on the Cliff Beasts set.

Dieter snorts, looking out of the window. “No. I didn’t. I, uh, haven’t really done a lot of painting since then. Been too busy. Well, until rehab.” He sighs, wishing he could go back in time to stop himself from getting in that car but he was so high at the time, he just wanted McDonalds and figured he’d drive. A stupid mistake that has cost him more than he could’ve imagined. “I’m gonna call my agent tomorrow. See what jobs I can get an audition for.”

You frown slightly, worried about how he will take this new development. You hadn’t wanted to worry him with it while he was in rehab, wanting him to focus on getting clean. “Uh, about that…” 

Dieter groans. “What?” 

You pull up to the red light and sigh, looking over at him, “your agent dropped you after the DWI. Said that she couldn’t keep you on. Too many incidents.”

Dieter stares at the red light, just processing the information, and it takes him several moments to react. He’s just blinking over and over again until the light turns green. “Fuck!” He shouts, his entire body shaking with the exclamation and he slaps the air. “Those fuckers! I - I’ll sue. I’ll get an attorney and sue them.” He growls but you sigh, “with what money?” 

He pauses, slumping down in the seat as you drive. “Fuck.” He rubs his cheek, “shit.” He huffs, closing his eyes, accepting that he’s been dropped. “I, uh, I’ve auditioned without management before. When I got - when I was first starting out. I can do it again.”

You don’t mention the obvious. That Dieter Bravo has had several high profile incidents that would make any studio wary of taking him on. Instead you reach over and pat his thigh. “It will work out.” You tell him encouragingly. “I - I’m going to have to start looking for a job too.” The light turns green and you pull your hand away so you can drive. The motel isn’t too far and you wonder how long it will take before Dieter spirals. He doesn’t like when things don’t go his way.

Dieter sighs, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You shouldn’t have had to do that. I know you want to be a writer one day. I, uh, have you been working on any scripts?” He asks, wanting to distract himself from his misery, his fuck ups.

Despite heavy drug use and at times questionable morals, Dieter actually listens. When he’s not being a prick. At least he actually listened to you and didn’t mock you when you had admitted it wasn’t your dream job to be a celebrity flunky. You wanted to make the movies. Screenwriter, really. “I’ve almost got one finished. Maybe you could read it for me?” You ask, knowing he might like feeling important, “point out things to punch it up?”

Dieter chuckles sharply, “not like I got anything else to do.” He sighs, feeling guilty, and he looks over at you. “Sorry. I- that was an asshole thing to say. I’d love to read it. You want me to read it?” He catches up with his mind, happy that you want him to read it. He’s just an actor. He merely says the lines.

The annoyance at his comment flares and then quickly dies. Dieter acts out when he’s upset, you know this. In a lot of ways, being his assistant was like having a child. “If you want.” You shrug slightly and pull into the parking lot of the motel. “You know what jumps out at you when you read scripts.”

Dieter pats his pants to find the key, glad you are helping him, and he is gonna have to find a way to thank you. Usually he would just buy something extravagant but he can’t do that now. “I’ll read it. Maybe you could cast me if it gets picked up?” He half jokes, opening the door after you park outside of the room he points too.

You hum, knowing that he might be perfect for the role, considering that you had based the character on him. “You might be perfect for it.” You tell him. The room is disheveled in typical Dieter fashion, making you grin. The man could not pick up his socks to save his life. “Already comfortable, I see.”

He blushes, knowing you’ve seen worse from him, but he can’t disrespect your home by acting like a drugged up raccoon. He rushes around trying to pick everything up but struggles. The drugs have really gotten to him in his older age.

He’s not paying you, but you still help him. Going into the bathroom to pick up the all natural products he insisted on. Luckily he still has plenty, because that shit is expensive and he won’t be able to afford it for long. He’ll be using a brand from the drugstore like everyone else. “Don’t forget your charger.” You remind him, knowing he always leaves it.

He offers you a grateful grunt before he grabs the charger, shoving it in his vegan leather duffel bag. He sighs once the room is cleaned up. “Fucking hated this place.” He huffs, spinning on his heel to head back out to your car, shoving his bags in the trunk and he gets in the front seat, already planning how he’s gonna get a role as soon as possible so he can get his lifestyle back.

You snort and shake your head. “You know that’s where they normally put the crew.” You tell him. “Only reason I get to stay in a room in the hotels you’re put up at is that it was written into your contract so I could manage you.”

“Seriously? They- the crew has to stay in places like this?” He asks, supposing he’s never really thought about it. Especially when he’s in a suite in a four or five star hotel. It makes him uncomfortable, to think of the crews he’s worked with having to stay in this motel whenever he goes anywhere.

“It’s not horrible, if they are clean. Which, thank God, they at least make sure of that. But yeah.” You pull out of the parking spot and pull around towards the street. “The talent is where they spend the money.”

Dieter nods, knowing that once he’s back in action, he will fight for better accommodations for the crew. “I’ll see what I can do about that.” He promises, “I’m glad you had a hotel room. You deserved it for putting up with my ass. I, uh, I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten for a couple of days.”

“Dieeeterrrr.” You sigh, hating how he doesn’t take care of himself. “Okay. We’ll get you something to eat.” You promise, looking over at him. “What do you want? Do you want to pick something up? I’ll pay for it.” You’re better off financially than he is. “What do you want?”

“Tacos.” He says, almost bashfully. His stomach growls now that he’s in a safe space and he isn’t stressed by the state of his financial affairs. He wants food and he decides to keep a note of whatever you get so he can pay you back when he gets his money back. “Can we get tacos?” He rephrases.

“Of course we can.” You nod, willing to get him whatever he wants, but tacos are easy. “We’ll have tacos and some chips and salsa for dinner. I’ve got some beer at the house too, just have a relaxing night.”

He nods, offering you a smile. “Thank you, sweetheart. Seriously, I couldn’t - I couldn’t do this without you.” He offers you a brief moment of appreciation and he knows he’d be lost without you. You soon pick up the tacos and salsa and chips and you drive home. He quickly sets his things in your guest room before you both settle down to eat. “To losing everything.” He toasts, wanting to make a joke of his utter fall from the pedestal Hollywood put him on.

You lift your own drink up. “To starting over sober.” You offer. “Maybe now I won’t have to walk into the orgies you would have.” You snort, shaking your head when you think about some of the shit that he would do.

He chuckles, unashamed of his sexual escapades despite most of them being drug induced. When he was high, he wanted contact, he wanted to feel wanted. Those stupid insecurities he’s carried his entire life since he was a kid driving him to crave intimacy. Even if he had to pay for it. 

He knows now that he needs to continue going to therapy, to talk about his mother’s rejection of him and how that led to his habits. He knows he needs to go to NA and remain sober. He has no choice now. It’s cost him his career and his livelihood so he needs to focus on his sobriety and getting his career back. “No orgies.” He promises, “but I can have threesomes?” He asks. You raise your eyebrows and he chuckles, “no threesomes. Got it.”

God, you hadn’t considered Dieter bringing someone over. It wasn’t like you had an active dating life. You couldn’t when you were traveling with him or at his beck and call all the time. “Just let me know about your meetings.” You pick up one of your tacos. “I’ll take you. I want you to succeed.”

“Thank you.” He finds himself saying that again and he truly means it. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if you hadn’t taken him in. “Can you get me some water?” He asks, acting like you are still employed by him and the moment you just had is gone.

You stare at him for a moment before you put your taco down and get up to get him some water. You should tell him no but you don’t. You’ll do it tomorrow. Tonight he just needs to relax. “Here.” You bring out a bottle of water you had in your refrigerator and hand it to him.

He doesn’t say thank you this time. Too used to you doing what he wants. He finishes his tacos and rubs his stomach, “fuck. I needed that.” He yawns, exhausted now that he’s full. It’s been a stressful two days and he didn’t exactly sleep well in the Motel 6. He pats his belly, “I’m gonna head to bed.” He stands up, leaving his plate and makes his way into the bedroom. He looks back at you, “it’s gonna be fun living together, right sweetheart? Goodnight.” He declares and disappears into the bedroom.

**** 

You’re going to fucking kill him. He’s awake at all damn hours of the night, doing God knows what. He leaves shit everywhere and expects the magic fucking maid fairy to pick it up. And if he fucking pisses on the toilet one more time you’re going to kill him. “I’m going to fucking kill him!” You hiss, yanking the dishwasher open to deposit the eight glasses you have found scattered around your house. Plus the bottle of cigarette butts from the porch - that went in the trash.

Dieter groans as he opens the bedroom door. It’s 3 in the afternoon and he was up all night trying to find auditions. It’s been a few weeks and he hasn’t found a single acting job. Unless he resorts to porn. He’d do it but it wouldn’t do his movie career any good. He is desperate to get a role. The money hasn’t been found by the FBI and they seem to have given up. He’s getting more and more desperate by the day and he is spiraling. When he stumbles into the kitchen, he sees you standing there with your arms crossed. “Everything okay?” He frowns, opening the fridge to take out the milk.

He doesn’t wait for you to answer, twisting the cap off the bottle and lifting the entire thing to his lips to start chugging. Making you wrinkle your nose as he drinks the milk straight from the jug. While you appreciate not messing up another cup, it’s gross. Especially when you know where Dieter Bravo’s lips have been at times. He’s in boxers and - is that your silk bathroom? You grit your teeth in frustration. Crocs round out the outfit, as well as his hair sticking up every direction. Obviously he just woke up. “No, everything isn’t ‘okay’, Bravo.” You hiss finally. 

Dieter frowns, setting the milk down on the counter and he wipes his lips. “What’s wrong? Is it- shit. Did I leave the toilet seat up again?” He asks, knowing you hate that. He is trying to be less selfish but he’s been used to being pampered for years, it’s a hard habit to break.

“Yes.” You huff, rolling your eyes. “And leaving cups around the house for me to pick up. Drinking from the milk jug. That’s gross.” You throw your hands up. “You expect me to cook for you because you don’t know how. I just- Dieter, you have to start taking care of things yourself!”

Dieter shifts from one foot to the other, at least having the decency to look ashamed. “I- I’m sorry sweetheart. It’s just- no one has taught me. My mom…I never got shown how to do anything. Kinda had to figure it out for myself and by the time I had to really worry about that stuff, it was already being taken care of for me. I want to learn. Show me what I need to do.” He pleads, not wanting you to kick him out of your home. He’d be on the streets if he couldn’t find a shelter.

Your anger deflates quickly, shoulders rounding. You've heard him talk about the problems with his mom and you don’t want him to feel like it’s another hurdle in getting back on his feet. “Okay.” You agree, dropping your hands and taking a deep breath. You had known it was going to be exasperating at times to live with Dieter. “First thing, if you get it out, you put it up. Okay? We don’t have a maid and I’m going to be starting work soon.” You had an interview with another up and coming celebrity and you were just waiting on the call back, but you know it’s going to happen.

Dieter nods, “I can do that. When - when are you starting work?” He inquires, curious as to who you are going to be working for. He won’t admit it but he’s a little jealous to think of you with someone else. He doesn’t want you to be unemployed but he’s a little jealous of you working for another actor. “I won’t drink from the milk jug anymore.” He concedes.

“I’m expecting the call this week.” You had been told to stay by your phone, only waiting on the required background check. Which you know will come back good. “It’s supposed to be flexible so I can finish up my script.” Which he hadn’t read yet. You don’t bother to remind him of his promise to read it, but it kind of hurts your feelings.

The lightbulb goes off in Dieter’s head. Your script. That he was supposed to read. “Shit. I - can I get another copy? I swear I want to read it but it got lost in the other scripts I’m studying for auditions. I have one tomorrow. Finally. It’s not - it’s nothing special but it’s money.” He shrugs, knowing he needs to start from scratch after every agency in L.A seemed to laugh in his face about him getting back into acting. “I’m glad you’ve found something. Hopefully, this is temporary and I can start paying you again once I’ve gotten back into blockbusters. You want to - can you show me how to use the dishwasher?”

You are used to Dieter constantly switching from one topic to another so you don’t let it phase you. Instead you turn back to the machine and open it. “Sure. Come over here you big baby and I’ll show you how to load the dishwasher.”

He rushes over, watching you load the dishes. “Cups on top, dishes below and cutlery goes here.” You show him before you grab a dishwasher pod and show him how to turn it on. He bites his lip, turning towards you. “We might have to run through that again.” He admits, “and the washer? I should probably wash my clothes.” He had taken to stealing your robe and just lounging around in it unless he had to get dressed. He’s been a movie star for nearly thirty years. He hasn’t had to do much in his life.

You wrinkle your nose and nod. “I’m sure you have a pile of dirty clothes.” You’ve picked up plenty of the socks and other bullshit that Dieter left around, but you’ve not done any of his clothes. It doesn’t shock you that Dieter doesn’t know how to do laundry. “Have you at least used the laundry basket in the guest room? Or is everything laying around everywhere?”

He bites his lip, looking guilty enough to make you sigh. “Grab the basket and pick everything up so we can get it washed.” He nods and walks into the guest room, clothes everywhere and the blinds are closed. “We will wash the bedsheets too.” You tell him, not judging but you know you washed them a couple of weeks after he moved in and they haven’t been done since. “I’m sorry I’m so fucking useless.” Dieter starts to wail, sobbing as he sits down on the edge of the bed.

Oh boy. You kneel down and put your hand on Dieter’s knee. “Stop it.” You tell him sternly, making his eyes widen slightly as you take a tone with him that you haven’t before. “You are a talented man. Fucking gifted. You are smart. This is going to be a piece of cake for you to learn.” Your words soften slightly and you give him a small smile of encouragement. “Look at this like you are studying for a role. Your next role is that of a house husband.” You joke.

He sniffs, processing your words, and eventually he nods. Wiping his eyes, he knows you are right. He can do this. He has to do this. He offers you a watery smile, "house husband. Kinda like that." He chuckles and you snort, grinning at him. "Come on, let's get this gathered up and I will show you how to use the washer and dryer." You promise and he nods, determined to learn. Before you walk away, he reaches out to grab your hand, "thank you...for helping me with, well, everything."

**** 

When you open the door to your home, you hear Dieter cursing and he looks up when you find him in the kitchen. He’s covered in flour and cringes, “I, uh, I’m sorry about the mess.” He had tried to follow the recipe but in his enthusiasm, the kitchen is a disaster and he’s waiting for the cake to cook but he forgot how long it’s been in there for. He wanted to do something nice to thank you for letting him stay but he has officially run out of money for non essentials and he wanted to get you something.

You could be mad, probably should be considering that there is egg yolk dripping off the counter and flour everywhere - but all you can do is grin. “What’s all this?” You ask as you set your bag down on a blessedly clean chair and walk into the kitchen. Dieter looks around and motions to the oven. 

“I, uh, I’m baking a cake.” You never thought you would find Dieter covered in flour and baking a cake in your kitchen but it's so damn cute that it makes you laugh. 

“Really? That’s great!” You huff, it’s like he’s a little kid trying to make breakfast for mom and failing spectacularly. “Is it almost done? It smells like it.” 

Dieter blushes, “I, uh, I forgot the timer.” He admits, “I just - I wanted to make something nice for you to say thank you for letting me live with you. I know I’m not the easiest man to have in the house and I- I thought this would be a nice way to say thanks. I’ve - shit - I made icing and I wanted it to be done before you got home.”

The thought is even sweeter when you realize why he is going through the effort and mess. “That’s okay.” You assure him, moving towards the oven and grabbing a pot holder. “If you want to check the doneness of a cake, stick a toothpick in it.” You instruct him as you open the door to a wave of heat and the delicious scent of a cake. “If it comes out clean, it’s done.” 

Dieter nods, “I can do that.” He reaches for the drawer to grab a toothpick and he leans over, inserting it and it comes out clean. “Oh thank fuck I didn’t burn it.” He chuckles nervously. “Now we decorate it?” He guesses and you shake your head. 

“You gotta let it cook first.” 

He nods, sitting down after you turn off the oven. He taps his fingers, growing impatient. “Can’t we put it in the fridge? I want to decorate it for you. Can you act surprised? I just- it’s for you.” He adds bashfully.

It’s endearing, the way that he is very timid right now. Making your heart melt at how he is trying to do something nice for you. “It will be fine in the fridge.” You agree as you pull out a cooling rack for him to put it on. “I will go take a bath to relax and when I come out, I will be completely surprised by the wonderful thought.” You promise with a soft smile. 

Dieter grins, grateful you’re playing along. “Oh! How was work today?” He asks, wondering how it’s been going with your new boss. He can’t deny he’s a little jealous but he won’t be childish for once and sulk. You are paying the bills after all.

“Honestly?” You take a deep breath and shake your head. “It was great. We get along fantastically and there’s not a whole lot of -” You remember you are talking to the man who had been your boss, who had made a lot of the foolish demands that would drive you crazy. “It’s going to be a good fit I think. The pay is nice.” 

Dieter nods, a little sad you are working for someone else but he's happy you have found a job you like. He watches you hesitate for a second before you tell him you are going to have a bath and he sets to work on the cake. He patiently - impatiently really - waits for the cake to cool down then he decorates it with the frosting he had made. He had tried a bunch of it before he decided it was good enough for the cake and he manages to write out "thank you" in icing that he colored with cocoa powder. He knows it's not neat but it's the best he could do.

In the bath, you take your time, knowing that Dieter will probably need every second to ice the cake and hopefully clean up the kitchen a little. He’s been getting better, you have to admit that. Although he was still selfish sometimes, you know you won’t break him of that. It’s just a part of who Dieter is, although this is uncharacteristically kind of him. Maybe he’ll even read your script like he promised he would. After nearly an hour, you get out and get dressed in your lounge clothes and come back out into the living room. “I’m home.” You announce playfully. 

Dieter has been anxious for you to see and taste the cake since he finished decorating it. It wasn’t easy to do and he hopes you don’t think he totally fucked it up. He watches you walk into the almost clean kitchen and he grins, proud of what he has accomplished. “Ta dah!” He gestures to the cake on the counter, praying you like it.

Walking into the kitchen, your eyes light up when you see the cake. “Diet! It’s- it’s wonderful.” You gush, the icing isn’t perfect and the lettering isn’t either but you love the effort that he put into this. It might be the sweetest thing that he’s ever done. Walking over to him, you kiss his cheek gently. “Thank you, I- I want to have a slice right now.” You hum, giving him a grin. “Have one with me?”

He blushes deeply at your praise, recognizing that need while he was in rehab and was in therapy. Always seeking the praise his mother never gave him. He is so happy to see you love it though and he grabs the knife and two plates, cutting into his creation with a little bit of melancholy since it took so long, but he’s eager for you to try it.

You pour two glasses of milk to have with the cake and smile when both you and Dieter sit down at the small table together. “You didn’t have to do this.” You promise him as you pick up your fork and cut off a piece of the cake. “But I love this. I’ve been craving something sweet and you’ve taken care of that.” 

He waits for your reaction, almost frozen as he prays you don’t spit it out and say it tastes like shit. He knows it’s unlikely that you’d do that but who knows…his prior asshole self probably would’ve done that. “How is it?” He asks, biting his lip as he eagerly awaits your reaction.

Eyes widening in surprise, you make a noise of pleasure. “Holy shit.” You manage after you swallow. “It’s really good. I mean that, it’s really good.” You eagerly take another piece of the cake and shove it in your mouth and follow it up with a swallow of milk. “Oh my god.” You moan. 

Your moan makes his long abandoned cock twitch. Fuck, you sounded so sweet. It’s been so long since he had anything other than his hand and right now, he wants to eat you more than the cake. He never really saw you as a sexual option when he employed you, even he has guidelines, but fuck, that moan. He shifts to cross his legs to hide his erection before he takes a bite of his own creation, his own moan escaping him.

Nodding in agreement, you try not to let Dieter’s sound get to you. Instead you focus on the cake and the immense pleasure you get from each sweet bite. It is perfect for satiating that sweet tooth you’ve had. Halfway through your slice, you look over at him. “This was really sweet. I appreciate it.” You give him a sweet smile. “I’m going to regret this when I don’t fit into my outfit next week.” 

Dieter scoffs before he frowns, “what’s next week?” He asks, wondering what the hell you are doing. He knows you inside and out. You don’t date, you never have plans. He was your whole life up until he went to rehab again and that hasn’t really changed.

You hesitate for a second before you roll your eyes at yourself. Dieter doesn’t care what you do and you don’t work for him anymore. So it’s not like you have to worry about him calling you away now. “I have a date next Friday.” You announce with a small grin. “It might roll into Saturday if it goes well, who knows?” You add. It’s been awhile since you’ve gotten laid and you really need it at this point. You haven’t even masturbated since Dieter moved in. 

That doesn’t sit well with Dieter. He swallows harshly, reaching for the milk to take a gulp and he forces every acting skill he has to offer you a smile and a “that’s nice.” He doesn’t say another word as he sets the glass down and takes another bite of the cake. “Who’s the guy?” He adds after several moments of heavy silence between you.

You bite your lip and reach for your own glass of milk for another drink. Wondering how Dieter will take the news of who you are going out on a date with. “Charlie Squires.” You admit, looking over at the cake and then back down at your plate. Charlie was an actor, someone who moved in the same circles Dieter had before his fall from grace, although Charlie wasn’t into the drug scene like Dieter was. 

He clenches his jaw. Fuck, he hates Charlie. The current golden boy of Hollywood. He was in some fucking superhero movies and suddenly, he’s the next big thing. He’s muscular too. Bright blue eyes. Dieter huffs, setting down his fork. “Yeah. He’s, uh, he’s a nice guy.” He says it a little harshly but who can blame him? He doesn’t want you going on this date.

Dieter is not happy, that much is obvious, but you try to ignore it. “Yeah, it’s no big deal.” You promise lightly, not mentioning that Charlie had been the one to ask you and mention that he had been interested in getting to know you for a while. Actually had been asking around to find out where you had gone after Dieter dropped off the face of the planet before you had run into him at the studio where his next movie is being shot. “Dinner and whatever happens.” 

Dieter offers you a tight smile, knowing he can’t ruin this for you. “That’s nice,” he says it a little sarcastically but you can’t blame him. He knows you should be out there, dating and getting laid, but he fucking hates the thought of you with Charlie. If he was truly honest with himself, he’d say anyone. He sighs and sets his fork down, “I��m gonna - I’m gonna do the dishes. You wanna finish your cake and find a movie or something?” He offers, needing a moment alone.

“Yeah.” You stare at him in confusion for a moment but he’s already pushing away from the table and turning back to the kitchen. Frowning, you shake your head and look down at the cake. Why can’t he be happy you have a date? Is it because you don’t belong with celebrities since you are just an assistant? Ironic considering this assistant is the only reason that he has a place to live. There weren’t lines of people begging him to live with them when he was at his lowest. You huff and pick up your cake to take it into the living room. If he couldn’t be happy for you, then fuck him.

****

Dieter taps his knee, anxious about you going on this date. He tries to be happy for you but something just isn’t sitting right with him. He runs his fingers through his hair, listening to you get ready and he stands when he hears the clink of your heels. He walks into the living room and his jaw drops at the pretty dress you’re wearing. “Holy shit.” He gasps

“Is it okay?” You are officially a little panicked but you can’t help it. You are going out with a celebrity. He had warned you that there might be paps around and you don’t want to embarrass him. “Not too much? Or is it not enough? I should change, shouldn’t I?”

He stares at you for another few minutes before he shakes his head, “no. No. It’s - it’s perfect. You look - you look fucking incredible.” He blinks dumbstruck. He’s always thought you were a beautiful woman but to see you going out on a date with someone he can’t stand, it kills him. He wants to beg you to not go, to stomp his feet like he would’ve done if you were still employed by him. He can’t do that, it’s not fair. “He’s gonna - he’s gonna be blown away.”

You smile in relief, reaching out to touch his shoulder in appreciation for calming you down. “Thanks.” You tilt your head at him curiously. “What are your plans tonight? Movie and pizza or do you have a date of your own?”

He snorts, “no. No. I’ll be here. Probably gonna try and find another audition.” He’s also been secretly reading your script. It’s brilliant and he’s made notes but he knows if you got it in the right hands, it would be picked up. He rubs his thighs and sits down on the sofa, trying to stop himself from making you stay. Old Dieter would’ve made up some excuse to stop you from going but he’s not that man anymore. He won’t be a selfish asshole.

You lean in and cup his cheek. “You will find an amazing project.” You promise him, bussing his cheek with a small kiss and smudging your lipstick on his skin. Your phone buzzes and your eyes widen slightly as you pull back. “Okay, that’s him.” You stand tall and straighten your dress. “Wish me luck!” Grabbing your purse, you quickly disappear out the door.

He watches you go and suddenly realizes that he doesn’t want you to go on this date. He wants you to go on a date with him. He wants you to be with him. You’ve been so good to him, teaching him life skills that his parents had neglected to teach him, too focused on him being an actor, and he can never repay you for that. He’s good for nearly an hour before he grabs his phone, deciding to get you back home from the date. He sends a quick text, “need you to come home ASAP. Dishwasher isn’t working.” It’s lame but it’s all he could think of.

You blow out a sigh when you see Dieter’s text. You reply. “It’s okay, I’ll look at it when I get home.” He probably didn’t set it right. You put your phone away but it dings again. 

“It’s spraying water everywhere.” 

“Shit.” You look over at Charlie and sigh. “I need to go back home, there’s apparently some kind of emergency. Water.”

When the door lock rattles, Dieter sits up straight and waits for you. He’s pleased that his excuse worked but he’s also guilty for ruining your date. You immediately walk into the kitchen to find the dishwasher running and no water. “What the hell, Bravo?” You hiss, stomping back into the living room where Dieter just sits with his arms crossed, pouting and refusing to look at you.

“The water isn’t leaking, so why exactly did you text me that it was?” You demand, glaring at him but he won’t even look at you. “Oh my fucking God!” You snap, annoyed that he is back up to his old tricks. “I’m leaving, and you better not text me fucking lies again. Unless the house is actually on fire!” You pull out your phone to text Charlie again, hoping you can salvage your date with him.

Dieter stands up, shaking his head. "No. I, uh, I'm sorry for lying but you can't go back on the date." He rushes out. 

You narrow your eyes at him, "why not? I'm not your assistant anymore. You can't control what I do." 

Dieter nods, "I know. I know. I just - fuck. Living with you is impossible." He growls.

Huffing incredulously, you can’t believe him. “Living with me is impossible?” You choke out. “I listen to 3 AM mantras when you can’t sleep and lord knows how many times to you jerking off. And yet I’m impossible to live with? When was the last time I fucking left a butt plug in the sink in the bathroom?”

Dieter pauses for a moment, not minding the idea of that, before he shakes his head. “No. No. You don’t fucking understand. Since I stopped - since I stopped taking drugs I have all of these stupid fucking emotions and I can’t - it’s so much to handle because you’re you and you’ve always been you, and I never noticed you before until now.” He pants and you cross your arms, “what the hell are you talking about, Bravo?” He huffs, taking a step closer to you. “It’s impossible to live with you because I’m in love with you.”

Scoffing, you shake your head. Dieter Bravo loves the idea of love but he only loves himself. “No you don’t, you just- you’re grateful that I gave you a place to stay.” You soften slightly, knowing Dieter still struggles with sobriety and has been working on keeping clean. It’s not been easy with the number of rejections he’s had professionally. “Dieter…” you step closer to him and brush his hair back. “It’s okay to be scared but just because I’m going on a date doesn’t mean I’m going to forget about you. Or kick you out. I didn’t kick you out when you nearly caught the kitchen on fire.” You smirk, remembering how panicked he had been when the pizza had been black coming out.

Dieter shakes his head, reaching out to grab your hips. "No. No. I - I know how I feel. I've never felt like this before. I can't wait for you to come home, I love just sitting beside you, not even talking. I love watching you when you are getting ready in the morning. I love the way your nose crinkles when you are writing. I love you. You are my home. I haven't - I haven't had a home. My parents just wanted me to make them money as an actor and they didn't hug me or look after me or do anything a parent should do. You taught me how to look after myself and you taught me what it feels like to belong somewhere. I love you. I love you." He shifts to kneel down, clinging to your legs and he closes his eyes, praying he doesn't lose you.

Of all the things you had thought would happen, having Dieter Bravo on his knees in front of you was the last of those. There have been a lot of times you imagined it, Dieter is handsome in a very carefree or messy kind of way and he cleans up very nicely. Charming when he wants to be. It’s not like you haven’t entertained fantasies with him, especially when you know he loves sex. Reaching down, your fingers slide through the curly strands of his hair. “Okay, I - I’ll stay home.” You murmur quietly, wondering if he really means it.

Dieter is relieved but he always wants to show you how much he loves you, how much he wants you. He lets go of your legs and runs his hands along their length. “Can I - I want to taste you. Tell me no if you don’t want me to touch you.” He orders, not wanting to cross the line.

You’ve always wondered if he was good in bed. You’ve heard that he was amazing, and that he was selfish. One particular incident was one lover throwing Dieter out of her room at one in the morning screaming about him being a two pump chump. He had been incredibly high. Right now though, his eyes are clear and lust filled. You swallow and nod, biting your lip as you give him permission.

He slowly, so slowly, reaches up to hook his fingers in your panties after sliding them under your dress. He pulls them down, his eyes on yours, and when you step out of them, he tosses them aside. He doesn’t dive in. No, he kisses along your calf up to your knee, licking the spot behind it and he kisses up your thigh, ducking his head under your dress and he groans at the heady scent of you. His lips kiss along your thigh and he sucks on your hip, making you gasp. He kisses along your mound until he breathes you in. Finally, his tongue slides between your folds, a heavy groan escaping his lips and vibrating into you at the tangy taste of you.

You’d expected him to be eager, rushed. Greedy with the number of swipes of his tongue before he was ready to move on. You hadn’t expected him to lick your cunt like he has all the time in the world. Tossing your head back, you moan, loving how slowly he explores you. Your hips shuffling forward, and your fingers grasping for his head while he tastes you. “Dieter.” You pant breathlessly, this once imagined scene now a reality in your living room.

Dieter groans, loving how you taste and he reaches for your thigh, lifting it onto his shoulder and he moans into your flesh when you open up for him, allowing him to push his tongue deep inside of you. For once, this isn’t about him. It’s about you and his love for you. Sex has always been mutual gratification but Dieter doesn’t care if you don’t fuck him or suck him after, he just wants to make you feel what he feels for you.

Whimpering, your head falls forward, hating how you can’t see him under your dress. You reach for the zipper, tugging it down so you can pull your dress over your head. Leaving you in just your bra and heels while Dieter’s head comes into view and you moan when his eyes open and look up at you.

He loves your moans, his hands gripping your ass to keep your hips tilted so he can delve deeper inside of you. His nose presses against your clit, he groans into your flesh, eager to make you cum and yet he’s in no rush. He flicks his tongue over your clit before sucking it into his mouth like those candies you give him from the jar you keep on your kitchen counter.

“Dieter, fuck.” You can’t believe how decadent this is. It’s almost sinful, just letting him slowly lick into your pussy like he’s learning anatomy through his tongue. “Knew your mouth had to be- be good.” His eyes are fixated on you like this is something he loves, and maybe he does. You had just assumed he was more of a taker than a giver.

Your moans make his cock ache in his sweats but he doesn’t touch himself, too obsessed with how you sound, how you taste. His tongue lathes over your clit before it dives back into your cunt, his fingers squeezing your ass to encourage you to rock against him. It’s the most selfless he’s ever been with a lover and that tells him everything he needs to know. You mean something to him.

You whimper, loving how eager he is. Your hips rock, rolling onto his tongue and you moan out his name again while your fingers sink into the strands of his hair. You've always wanted to pull his hair, sometimes out of frustration, but right now it's to guide him to go deeper. To devour you. "Fuck, Diet." You moan, eyes fluttering as you look down at this Oscar winning actor on his knees for you.

He obeys, eager to please, and slides his tongue deeper inside of you. His nose smushed against your clit and he turns his head side to side. Wanting, no needing, you to cum. He moans into your cunt, his eyes closing and he reaches up with one hand to squeeze your tit, pinching your nipple.

Gasping, your knees nearly buckle as you start to cum. You feel pleasure course through your system and nearly overtake everything but the flames that are flashing through your entire body. "Dieter!" Your hand pulls on his hair as you ride the waves of pleasure.

He keeps you pressed against him, working you through your orgasm. His fingers dig deep into your flesh as he drinks you down, his tongue lapping up every drop of your cum that you offer him. His cock aches but he won’t ask for anything, just happy to have made you cum.

It takes you a moment to realize your soul hasn't left your body. Opening your eyes and letting go of his hair so you can cup his cheek. "Holy shit." You giggle, looking down at him in wonder. "That was- fuck, that was amazing." You pant, noticing his cock is straining against his sweats. "And it looks like you enjoyed it, but I'm sure you are ready for more."

Dieter blushes as he lowers your leg. “You don’t - I’m not expecting anything back. I just - I wanted to show you what you mean to me. I can go jerk off.” He offers, not wanting you to feel like he did this just for the reciprocation even though he desperately wants to feel you, all of you.

"Shut up and get your ass in my bed, Bravo." You roll your eyes at him and bite your lip in amusement at the way he scrambles to obey you. Obviously eager to get inside you, to be able to fuck you.

He stumbles to your bedroom, flinging the door open, and he pulls his t-shirt over his head, shoving his sweats down to expose his hard cock. He’s unashamed of his nudity, far too used to closed sets and sharing multiple lovers. He is happy with himself and that’s evident as he stands there naked, waiting for his next orders.

You can’t help but giggle at the proud stance he’s in. His hands on his hips with his cock jutting out. He still has one croc on his foot, and his expression is needy. You reach behind you and unhook your bra to fling it across the bedroom so you are nude as well. “Lay down on the bed.” You order him softly. “I’ve imagined riding your cock a hundred times and I’m going to cum all over it.”

Dieter doesn’t have to be told twice, he shifts to lay down on the bed, kicking off the lone croc and his cock rests on his lower stomach while he waits for you to make your move. “Condom?” He asks, almost breathless as his eyes devour your tits.

You bite your lip. You should, but you know that Dieter hasn’t slept with anyone since he’s been out of rehab and he is surprisingly clean of STDs. Plus you have always imagined feeling him without the barrier of a condom. “I’m on birth control.” You offer quietly. “If you want a condom, I’ve got one in my purse but-“

“Fuck no!” He blurts out. It’s been so long since he went raw, not since his short-lived marriage back when he was thirty to another actress that turned out to be lust and drugs and led to a messy divorce. She still doesn’t speak to him. It’s been too damn long since he hasn’t worn a condom and to be inside of you…fuck, it almost has him cumming now without even touching you. “Please baby. Use my cock. I want you to take what you need from me.”

You moan softly, watching his cock twitch and you can see the small dribble of pre-cum pool on his belly. “Fuck.” You kneel on the bed and you can’t help but duck your head down and run your tongue up the underside of his cock. 

Dieter yelps loudly and you giggle when you press your tongue to the slit. “Please baby, fuck me.” He begs, body tense as you show him some mercy and straddle his waist.

He watches you, in awe of your entire being, and he allows you the moment to grip his cock, slowly…so fucking slowly, you sink down onto his length. He hisses, hands raised and clenching his fists as he fights the urge to grab you. He wants to touch but this is about you.

Your head tilts back and you moan as he stretches you out. You had known he was thick, but there is a difference between seeing his cock and feeling him fill you up. “Oh fuck.” You whimper, ass flush against his thighs and you swivel your hips to grind down onto him. “Feels so fucking good, baby.”

“Can I touch you?” He asks, fingers twitching, and when you breathe out a “yes,” his hands are everywhere. He caresses your side, hands squeezing your tits until they rest on your hips, helping you rock on his cock. “Fuck. You feel - it’s better than any fucking drug.” He confesses, his entire body on fire from the feel of you and his heart pounds in his chest from emotion instead of coke.

You ride him slow, aware that he’s bigger than any of your toys. Closing your eyes as you grind down on him and then lift up to where his cock almost completely falls out of you. “You- you moved in just to fuck me.” You pant playfully. “Didn’t you? Still have your money too.”

Dieter snorts, his hands caressing your hips. “Oh yeah. I borrowed that twenty bucks from you yesterday for drug store deodorant and body wash because I love to mess around - shit - and make sure I got to fuck you. Fuck, you’re so wet.” He hisses when you sink back down onto him. You’re too good at this and it takes his breath away.

You smirk and lean down to press your lips to his. “Knew it.” You tease, pressing your breasts to his chest while you move up and down on his cock. He feels amazing and you wonder why the fuck you didn’t do this sooner. “At least you smell good.” You coo before you bite his chin.

He chuckles and presses his lips to yours for the first time, sliding his tongue into your mouth, and his hands caress your back before squeezing your ass. It’s languid and unlike the frantic fucks he has experienced in his active sex life. He isn’t in a rush to cum, content to let you seek your pleasure despite the need to fuck up into you and bury his cock deep. He pushes it aside and lets you ride him.

You’re kissing Dieter, you’re fucking Dieter. Dieter Fucking Bravo. The same man who drives you up a wall most days, whines and his brow flinches as he tries not to rock up into you. He’s trying to hold himself back. Pushing up slightly, you brace your hands on his chest, remembering how he had nearly died in that hotel in England. The reports were horrible and you hate that you hadn’t been there. It makes you bounce a little faster, reminding yourself that he’s here and for the moment, you have him.

He groans when you move a little harder and faster on his cock, his hands squeezing your waist and he shifts to sit up, taking your nipple into his mouth. He wants you to cum on his cock, to soak him. He sucks on your breast, his hands clinging to your back while you rock your hips onto his cock.

“Oh fuck, Deeeeee.” You whine when he bites down sharply, instantly soothing it with his tongue. It makes you squeeze him as you bounce on his cock, completely lost in the mind blowing reality that you are in bed with Dieter. “Gonna- gonna cum then I want- I want you to fuck me.” You pant breathlessly, throwing your head back so he can play with your tits easier. “Oh fuck.”

Dieter doesn’t refuse you, shifting you onto your back so he can start slamming his hips into you. The sounds in the room are absurd, skin slapping skin, moans and groans. Sweat beading on his neck as he grunts your name and demands you cum for him. “Please. Cum for me.” He whines, leaning down to take your nipple in his mouth again.

His plea, the scrape of his teeth and the perfect way that his cock shreds up into you triggers it. Practically screaming his name, you soak his cock in a torrent of your juices, the hardest orgasm you’ve had in forever.

Your cunt clamping down on his cock has him groaning your name and he works you through it with short, desperate thrusts of his hips. Your cries as he thrusts deep spur him on until his pace falters and he buries his cock deep, painting your walls with his cum. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Shit.” He pants, his forehead resting on your sternum.

It’s silent as the two of you try to catch your breath. His cock twitching inside your still fluttering walls while neither one of you moves. Now you wonder what to say, what to do. Slowly your hands move down from his shoulders to his sweaty back, caressing it slowly as he snuggles into your neck, apparently not ready to pull out of you.

Dieter murmurs your name, in awe of you and how incredible you are. You’re his saviour and it’s clear as day that he’s in love with you. “I love you.” He coos, kissing along your neck to your jaw before he pulls back to look at you.

Now that you’ve slept together, you wonder how long that feeling will last. Dieter is…fickle for lack of a better word and you hate to think that it might just be the emotional neediness behind all of this. “I love you too.” The words are simple for you to say, you do love him. You’ve loved him for a long time. Even if you couldn’t stand him when he was at his worst. It was one of the reasons you had stuck by him for so long.

Dieter inhales sharply at your confession and he has tears in his eyes as he buries his face in your neck. He hasn’t heard those words in so long, especially when you actually mean them. He has been used for his fame and his money for as long as he can remember - even by his own parents - so to hear you say you love him when he is at his lowest, with no money and no fame. You love him for him. For the chaos he is and the selfish asshole he is. You love him and that makes him sob into your neck, muttering he loves you over and over again.

You shush him softly, stroking his hair and his back while he works through his emotions. Not shaming him for his tears or wanting him to stop, just providing comfort. Your own kisses to his hair are gentle and it’s probably the only time a man has cried after sex with you, but you understand why. “I love you too.” You promise him, loving how he holds you close.

Dieter eventually falls asleep after pulling out of you and flipping down on the bed beside you. You watch him for a while before you clean up and get yourself something to eat. He has exhausted himself emotionally but you know it’s not a bad thing, he’s processing. 

**** 

The next morning, Dieter wakes up to his phone ringing where you placed it on your dresser and he scrambles to answer it in case it’s a call back. He answers the phone with a groggy ‘hello’ and the producer who had been in charge at the audition he went to a few days ago is on the phone. 

“Dieter. Hi, it’s Harriet. Can you come in today? I want to do another call back.” Her voice is sickly sweet which makes Dieter frown for a moment but he is so excited to have a callback, that he smiles. 

“Absolutely. Let me know what time you want me in.” He responds eagerly. 

“One this afternoon. I want you to come to my personal office for the call back.” She says and Dieter pauses, “uh, sure.”

She continues, “for a personal callback. I’ve heard about your numerous oral skills and I would like to experience it. I loved you in Hunger Strike. Your first movie too with the sex scene…I want to recreate that.” She coos and Dieter feels sick. 

He knows how the industry works, especially for women, and it has been something he always fought again, but now, he’s on the receiving end and this is his chance to get back into Hollywood. He sighs, “um, okay. I’ll see you at one.” He tells her, his stomach feels like lead as he hangs up the phone.

You had woken up before Dieter and decided to go to the store. You wanted to make breakfast before you had to go to work. It was going to be a late night so your boss had told you to not even come in until around three. Something that you had wished Dieter had done sometimes. It didn’t matter though, you open the door with the bags on your arm. Right now, it just meant you could spend the morning with him.

Dieter stares at the phone for several moments until he hears the front door so he makes his way into the living room after grabbing his robe. "I, uh, I just had a call from the producer for that movie I auditioned for last week." He announces, crossing his arms as he watches you put the groceries away.

"What?" You stop with a carton of eggs in your hand and turn around with a happy grin on your face. "That's great, Dieter! I'm so proud of you, I knew you could find something that you wanted." It might not be exactly what he wanted but you also know that he's a fucking talented actor and could make one small opportunity into his big comeback. "When do you go in for your callback? Do you need a ride?"

He doesn't smile, lowering his arms from his chest. "It's, uh, more complicated than just going back to read the script. The producer....she wants me to, uh, she wants me to fuck her." He reveals, biting his lip, "she said she wants me to show her my oral skills and recreate the sex scene from my first movie."

Your own smile drops as you wait for him to tell you that he is turning down the call back. He doesn't. He just stands there waiting for you to say something. Your heart aches when you realize that everything last night was a lie. He couldn't love you, not the way that you needed him to. You don't share and Dieter Bravo is apparently willing to do anything to get back to his former status as a Hollywood star. "Congratulations." You offer flatly, turning to open the fridge so you can put the eggs inside. You're suddenly not hungry anymore.

Dieter lowers his arms, the guilt is overwhelming but this is his only chance to get back into acting. “I- I need to do this. It’s my only chance to get my life back. To get my money back. The FBI haven’t updated me and I don’t know what to do. I can’t keep mooching off of you until the day I die.”

“You’ll do what you need to do.” You had known Dieter was selfish, but this just proves that he’s not changed all that much. You take a deep breath. “You’re welcome to stay here until you get your money back, or you get paid.” You remind him before you finally turn around and meet his eyes. “But this….thing between us is over.” You decide. “I can’t be with you, with anyone, who is willing to sell his body to some producer for the chance at a starring role. 

Dieter stares at you, his heart breaking, and he feels his eyes prick. Of course you don’t want him. Last night was just a fluke. He wants to support you again, he has to do this so he isn’t relying on you. It’s not fair. He wants to pull his own weight and he finally has an opportunity. “I- I finally have a chance to get my life back and you…okay. Fine. Fuck this shit. I’m gonna go to the callback. I’m gonna be a major actor again and you can go on your date with fucking golden boy Charlie.” He growls, spinning on his heel and he storms into his bedroom, slamming the door as tears stinging his eyes.

You don’t know why you are surprised, but you are. Tears slide down your cheeks as you methodically put away the rest of the groceries and shuffle to your bedroom. You hear Dieter shuffling around in his room and you bite your lip as you try not to sob. Part of you wants to be petty and remind him to shower before he fucks someone else, but you can’t, you don’t want to see him. He wants his life back, his old life, the life where you were nothing but his assistant. You close your door softly and sink down to the floor and start to cry in earnest. 

**** 

“Welcome Mr. Bravo.” Cecilia, the producer coos as he walks into her office. He’s been anxious since he left the house. You haven’t spoken to him since that moment in the kitchen, locking yourself in your bedroom, and the guilt had gnawed at Dieter the rest of the morning. He had to use some concealer to cover up the puffy circles under his eyes. He offers the producer an Oscar winning smile and she shuts the door behind him and steps around him to lean against her desk. “You’ve got the role.” She announces. 

Dieter grins, “really? Wow. Thank you. I can’t believe it. Really-” 

She interrupts him but crosses her arms, “I didn’t finish, Dieter. You’ve got the role…but first, you gotta strip for me. I went to see your cock and then I want you to eat me out. Then I want to ride you.” She says like she’s ordering off a menu and Dieter is immediately uncomfortable. 

For a second, he considers it. It’s just sex. He’s never thought anything of sex. It’s just a way to get off but last night with you…it was unlike anything he’s experienced. He bites his lip and she looks at him expectedly. 

“Well?” She asks and he shakes his head. No career is worth ruining what he has with you. In fact, he’s found a new passion in painting and he will think about getting a new agency as an artist, not an actor. 

“No. I- I can’t.” He tells Cecilia who frowns, “you can’t? Then I can’t offer you the role.” She blackmails him but he doesn’t care. 

He backs away from her, thinking only of you and the heartbroken look you gave him. He can’t touch anyone else when you’ve stolen his heart. “Thanks but no thanks. Oh, and I’m gonna report you for sexual harassment.” He holds up his cell phone, using it for a rare moment to record the conservation he had with Cecilia. 

“No. I, uh, I can give you the role. Just - delete the recording.” 

Dieter shakes his head, finally knowing that acting is in his past. He smirks, “actually…there’s something you can do for me. My friend has a script. You’re gonna greenlight it for production, do whatever you can for it and I will delete the recording.” He offers and Cecilia nods, “fine.” 

Dieter grins, hitting pause on the new recording. “Pleasure doing business with you. I’ll have the script delivered tomorrow.” He smirks, “I’ll delete the recording after I see the contract.” With that, he spins on his heel and makes his way out of her office with his dignity and excited to give you the good news.

You had heard Dieter getting ready for his casting call this morning. Swallowing down the heartbreak, you had dragged yourself out of bed and headed to work. Quiet enough that your boss had asked you what was wrong, you had told him a little lie and claimed you had a migraine. Making you feel bad because he had insisted you go home. Where you are now, curled under your freshly changed sheets - you couldn’t sleep on them again - and try to pretend that you don’t know exactly what Dieter Bravo is doing right now.

Dieter rushes through the front door, his eyes wide with excitement and he calls out your name. When you don’t respond, he knocks on your bedroom door. He knows you’re here, he saw your car. He had Ubered to the studio and back so you are home. “Sweetheart. Can I come in?” He asks.

“Go away, Dieter.” You lift your head from your pillow and call out. “I’m happy for you but I can’t celebrate with you.” Tears fill your eyes and you want to scream at him for actually coming to you after he slept with someone to get a role. Was he really so self absorbed?

He opens the door, hearing your voice crack, and he’s concerned. “Baby. What’s wrong?” He rushes over, kneeling on the bed when he sees your tear filled eyes. “Tell me what’s wrong.” He begs, cupping your cheeks

“Please.” You close your eyes and practically whimper as you turn your head away from him. “I know you’re excited, you're happy to be getting your life back - but- I can’t do this.” You choke out. “I can’t be happy that you told me you loved me and then fucked someone else.”

Dieter realizes what you think and he frantically shakes his head. "I didn't do it. I swear. I - I couldn't do it because she wasn't you. I didn't want to touch her. I turned down the role. I didn't want it if I had to do that and I don't - I decided I no longer want to be an actor. I want to be an artist. I want to paint."

It takes you a minute to process what he’s saying. Opening your eyes and turning back to him to blink in surprise. “Wha- you did?” You gasp. “You didn’t- you turned it down?” You halfway don’t believe it, knowing how much he wanted to go back to his former life. “I- really?”

He fumbles to get his phone out of his pocket, taking it out of the bag he puts it in that apparently blocks cellular waves from "his balls" and he presses play on the recording. He wants to prove to you that he's serious. He doesn't want that lifestyle anymore. He wants a home, he wants a family. He wants you.

Your jaw drops when you hear him tell the producer that he isn’t going to work with her. That he wants her to green light your script. “Dieter- I- is this for real? You’re blackmailing her for- for my script? You haven’t even read it.” You manage to get out.

He scoffs, "yes I have read it." He tells you to hold his phone and he rushes into his room, grabbing your script and he sets it down. He has been reading it at night, making notes, but it's brilliant and he knows this is your chance to make it big. "I won't be in Hollywood anymore but that doesn't mean you can't get your big break. Blackmail makes the world go round." He jokes, sitting on your bed and he sets the script in your lap.

“Dieter.” You reach out and touch the script’s cover, opening it up and seeing his loopy handwriting. “You- you’re going to leave acting behind?” You don’t understand, acting was Dieter’s entire life. It was all he had talked about since getting out of rehab.

He shrugs, “it’s no longer my passion. I’ve been, uh, painting outside while you’ve been at work and I have several pieces. I’m going to see if I can get an agent and get them displayed in a gallery. If fucking George Bush can do it, I’m sure I can.” He scoffs, “I - I want to show you a piece I just finished.” He bites his lip and shuffles off of the bed again. He walks into his bedroom to grab the canvas he painted of you, of how he sees you, and he carries it into your bedroom to display it.

You gasp, covering your mouth as you look at the canvas as he turns it around. He’s painted you and it’s….beautiful. You look almost angelic, the light in the eyes of the painting is bright and the smile loving. “Dieter- you painted this?” You ask in wonder, standing up and letting your script fall to the floor as you walk over to look closer at the canvas.

He nods, blushing at your tone, and he hopes you like it. “Uh, yeah. I, um, I just - I started it a couple of weeks after I moved in here and it’s - it’s how I see you.” He admits, his dark eyes meeting yours as you stand in front of him and he’s nervous, thinking you might hate it.

“It’s-“ Tears pool up in your eyes and start sliding down your cheeks again. “It’s so beautiful. I can’t- it’s so wonderful.” You tell him breathlessly, turning and reaching up to cup his cheek. “I can’t believe you see me like this.”

He flusters at your praise, happy you like it, and he leans into your touch. “I think you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever known. You are beautiful, yes, but so kind and I - you put me in my place and I need that. You see me. The real me. Not the movie star or the sugar daddy. You see Dieter Bravo and I’ll love you forever for that.” He vows, “this is my ode to the woman I love.”

You bite your lip and lunge forward, pressing your lips to his. He turned down the sex, the role for you. He turned his back on acting for you because you know that he’s burned a bridge now. Permanently. And he put himself on the line to make your Hollywood dreams come true. “I love you, Dieter.” You promise between kisses. 

He smiles, pulling back to set the canvas down before he grips your hips, pulling you flush against him. “I love you too baby. You’re gonna be amazing. A Hollywood screenwriter. That thing is Oscar worthy.” He gestures to your script before he presses his lips back to yours. “We could be an Oscar winning couple.” He jokes, kissing along your jaw.

You giggle, leaning into the fantasy for a moment. “I’ll bring you to all the red carpet events and you can be my arm candy.” You joke, knowing he do it in a heartbeat and be amazing. Dieter knows how to work a red carpet.

“Deal, baby. As long as you show me off.” He winks and reaches for you to lift you onto your bed. “Now, can I eat that pussy as a celebration for our new careers?” He hums, reaching for the waistband of your leggings but not doing anything until you say yes.

You shake your head, giggling at him and his eagerness. “Before you do, I need to tell  you something.” You lean forward and cup his cheeks with both hands. “I’m proud of you for not going through it. Not sleeping with her.” 

He blushes again at your praise, turning his head to kiss your palm. “I couldn't do it. Not when I kept thinking of you and how much I love you. It just - it wasn’t right and no matter what I would’ve gotten from it, it wasn’t worth losing you.” He hooks his fingers in your leggings, shifting out of your grip to pull them down. “Let me make you cum.” He pleads, almost whining, and he tosses your leggings aside after removing your shoes and he’s glad you weren’t wearing panties. He shifts to lay down between your thighs, his shoulders pushing them apart and he isn’t hesitant as he dives in to slide his tongue through your folds.

You moan softly, closing your eyes and loving how amazing that tongue is. Happy that he hadn’t used it on that producer today. “Dieter, fuck.” You whine. “Gonna keep that tongue for myself. No one else gets to have it.” You lift your legs and shift them up onto his shoulders while he settles between your thighs. 

He hums in appreciation and his fingers dig into your thighs, keeping you spread so he can push his tongue deep inside of you. “Only yours.” He promises when he pulls back, smacking his lips, and he sucks your clit into his mouth.

“Dieter-” you push back on his head and he whines, unwilling to move away from you but you push his head back again. “Let me- let me sit on your face so I can suck your cock.” You beg breathlessly. You hadn’t gotten to have him in your mouth and you wanted it. You want to hear him moan for you. 

“I am not going to turn that down.” He chuckles and then shifts onto his back beside you, fumbling to undo the pants he wore for the meeting and he shoves them down along with his briefs to expose his half hard cock. “Take a seat.” He pats his cheeks with a grin.

“Always wondered if this would shut you up.” You tease before you straddle his head and lower your hips to his mouth. Leaning forward so you can wrap your hand around his cock and pump him slowly while his tongue licks through your folds. “Oh fuck.” You whine, leaning in more to lick the tip of his cock. 

Dieter smacks your ass, pulling you further down onto his face to practically smother him and he groans at the heat of your skin. Your mouth is heaven, hot and wet, and he struggles to not thrust his hips when you reach out to wrap your fingers around him.

Moaning around his cock, you twist your wrist and try to take him all the way down your throat. Loving the gasping pant that he breathes into your cunt, and the eager way that he sucks your clit into his mouth. Humming, you pull off his cock to lick up and down the length. “Oh fuck, so good baby.” You moan before you take him back into your mouth. 

His hands are all over you, squeezing your ass, spreading your cheeks and he can’t help himself. He tilts his head so he can circle your puckered hole with his tongue, wanting to make you gasp his name.

You gasp out around his cock, pulling off of it. “Fuck, Dieter!” You cry out, eyes sliding closed and pinching tight in mortification of how good it feels. He chuckles as he flicks his tongue and you huff, sliding your hand down between his cheeks to press your own fingers against his hole while you suck on the tip of his cock. 

“Oh fuck!” He groans against your ass cheek, fucking loving how you know what he wants. What he likes, without even asking. He hisses your name and surges forward to lap at your puckered hole, pushing his tongue into you before his tongue slides down to push into your cunt, alternating between each hole and his hand shifts under you so he can rub your clit with his thumb.

You pull off his cock again, sliding your fingers into your mouth to wet them before his thighs shuffle apart even more. You press against the ring of muscles, feeling it push in before it finally gives way, letting you sink your finger into him a bare inch. Making sure that you take his cock all the way down to the back of your throat while you start to pump your fingers gently inside him. 

Dieter practically whines into your flesh. You’re blowing his mind and he fucking loves it. His hips buck unconsciously and he hisses your name when you push your fingers a little deeper. His tongue dives deep inside of you, his nose pressed against your ass and he wants, no needs, you to cum for him.

He’s being so good for you. Precum leaks into your mouth and you swallow it down eagerly. Rocking your hips back as much as you can while you curl your fingers up and listen to him keen into your folds. Giving him the sloppiest blow job of his life and one or two licks away from soaking his face in your cum.

He is feral, bucking up into your mouth while he sucks on your folds, his tongue dipping back into you and his thumb frantically rubs your clit. He’s so close but he needs you to cum first. He needs to hear you cum.

Your keening sound of pleasure is muffled around his cock, jaw slack as you push your hips back into his face and buck back onto his tongue. Cumming in a wave of pleasure, and squeezing his head between your thighs.

Dieter growls into your cunt, lapping up every drop you have to offer him until you take him deep down your throat, your fingers pushing deep inside of him, and it sends him over the edge. He cries into your pussy, his cock throbbing as he starts to cum down your throat.

You gulp him down as fast as you can, loving the way that he throbs in your mouth and whines when you curl your fingers up. Working him until every drop of his cum is swallowed down and you pull off his cock with a very satisfied gasp.

Dieter pants, shaking hands gripping you to try and turn you around to bring you into his chest. When you get the hint, he pulls you close and presses his lips to yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth. "I fucking love you." He groans, pulling back for a moment.

“I love you too.” You whisper softly, reaching up and caressing his cheek. “You are going to be a great artist, you are a great artist.” You murmur proudly. “And we’re going to make sure you are happy.”

Dieter smiles at you and winks. “You’re going to be happy too, you get to have me.” That makes you giggle and lean forward to press your lips to his. You do get to have him, in all his chaotic glory. 

**** 

“Dieter! Diana, I’m home!” You rush through the door, depositing your keys and purse and laptop bag on the entryway table and kick off your shoes as you try to shed the day as quickly as possible. You’re late and even though you let him know you would be, you hate missing a second of your time at home. “Diet? Di?” You call, wondering where they are in the labyrinth you call a house, bigger than the one Dieter originally had. “Are you home?”

When you walk into the kitchen, Diana immediately rushes over to you. “Mama!” She cheers, clinging to your legs, and Dieter chuckles as he finishes the stroke on the canvas. He’s been teaching his daughter how to paint while the dinner cooks in the oven, but you are home now so he sets the brush down. 

“Hey sexy mama.” He winks at you, standing up to stride over to press his lips to yours, his tongue dips into your mouth but nothing too X rated since Diana is squashed between you. “Long day at work?” He asks, kissing your jaw before he pulls back and looks down at his daughter.

You roll your eyes and nod. “Yeah, re-writes.” You huff. “The lead decided he was a better writer than me so they wanted me to rework the lines the way he wanted but then they didn’t fit, like I told them they wouldn’t.” The script that Dieter had blackmailed the producer into green lighting had been a blockbuster and now you have become a very popular name among studios.

"Fuck him." Dieter scoffs and Diana looks up at her father. 

"Daddy! Bad words!" She reprimands, making him playfully roll his eyes. 

"Sorry, baby girl. Daddy is gonna put a quarter in the jar." Dieter had promised Diana a new dollhouse with the money saved from the 'bad word jar' and Dieter's quarters have added up. "Dinner will be ready in a minute." Dieter tells you after he places a coin in the jar and he pours you a glass of wine. He's become quite the cook, making all sorts of dishes to an almost expertise level. "My agent called. Someone wants to buy the painting before I even finish it." He announces, pulling the lasagna out of the oven.

“Baby, that’s great!” You come over and kiss Dieter’s cheek so you don’t make him drop the lasagna. When you had gotten pregnant, Dieter had decided that he wanted to stay home, be a stay-at-home dad. Arguing that his little girl shouldn’t have to have a nanny all the time and he could paint around her schedule. You had fallen in love with him even more when you saw how committed he was to your daughter and the life you are creating, although he still lets a housekeeper come in and scrub the toilets. “That makes the fifth painting sold this year!”

Dieter blushes, proud of himself, and he sets the dish down, dishing out three servings and he sets the plates down at the kitchen table. "Dinner, baby girl." He tells Diana and he places his wine glass down as well as the glass of juice for Diana. He looks at you as you sit down and he feels a sudden rush of happiness. He never imagined he'd get to have a life like this. He was lost in the drugs and depression and anxiety but he's happy now, sober, and living a life he never imagined he could have. 

He lifts his glass up towards you, "to a beautiful life." You grin, understanding what he means when you clink your glass against his. Diana moans, holding up her own glass and Dieter chuckles, clinking his glass against hers before you follow suit. He has everything he never knew he wanted and he wouldn't change it for the world...especially not for an acting career.

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

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

⋆ 𝓡𝓾𝓰𝓰𝓲𝓮 𝓑𝓾𝓬𝓬𝓱𝓲: 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓜𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓜𝓮 𝓢𝓸 𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 ⋆

Please note: This is a repost from my old blog, @sugarcookiesheep!

⋆ Dating Ruggie, you knew not to expect fancy dinners or expensive gifts. Most dates were spent either at home or outside, having a picnic in the park or making dinner together. There were times when you would visit him at work, bringing along a drink or lunch for him to have. Your heart would race seeing the way his face would light up the moment he spotted you, running over to where you were. Then there were times when you had to work, Ruggie waiting for you outside to walk you home. Gifts were always simple, either handmade or found. You loved how personal they were, the flowers he would pick you or the jewelry he would make. You would show them off with pride, proud to be with someone as caring and hardworking as he was. You love Ruggie as he is, and wouldn’t have him any other way.

⋆ To save money, you and Ruggie would only go out to eat once a month. It was a day you both looked forward to, marking off your calendars in anticipation. You would go to a small restaurant he had done odd jobs for in the past, the owner a kind elderly man. The prices were good for the large portions you would get, the owner giving you a free dessert to share. You would trade off who would pay each time you went, with this month being his turn.

⋆ You sat across from him, talking as you ate. He was dressed nicer than usual, happily enjoying his food. You each ordered something different, sharing with each other. Though you always knew when he liked something in particular, distracting you in order to take some more from your plate. You’d playfully scold him, making an attempt to stop him as he laughed triumphantly. When dessert came he put some on a fork, holding it out to you. He would always let you have the first bite, feeding it to you before digging in himself.

⋆ You sat with your face in your hands as you watched him enjoy the dessert, loving the look of pure joy he got when eating something good. He noticed your staring, holding the fork towards you thinking you wanted some. “You make me so happy, Ruggie” you think, surprised when he starts coughing as he chokes on his food.

⋆ It takes you a moment before you realized you said it out loud, face growing warm as his coughing begins to calm down. “Geez, warn a guy next time” he says, face pink as he looks away from you. He laughs to himself, taking a moment before turning back towards you. His face is still a bit pink as he holds it in his hands, mimicking your pose. He sighs, a fond look in his eyes as he tells you,

“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?” ♡

Originally posted: February 17th, 2024

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

#♡.sheep writes #♡.twst #♡.ruggie bucchi #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucci x reader #ruggie x reader

[idlerin]

nonsense — 04. i’m NOT petty

you placed down your phone and paid more attention to your delicious food, groaning in satisfaction because you missed it's taste— despite eating the same thing like 2 days ago.

“you really bought those albums huh,” kuroo comments, staring down your paper bag filled with albums. most of kageyamas, some from artists you love.

"why?" you tilt your head to the side, acting innocent, "circulating money is good for the economy!" you say a little too loudly, unabashed. you did look around a little after shouting because you did have a little bit of shame.

the restaurant didn’t have many people inside. well, the mall didn’t have many people in it in general. it was considered one of those "fancy" malls people tend to stay away from, which is exactly why you guys frequent here.

"i'm broke now," you slump on the table, your elbow as a support as you shove a spoonful of your meal in your mouth, wearily glancing at your shopping bags under the table beside kenma's.

"i paid for half of it," kenma says.

"yeah and my wallet is still empty."

"let's get new shoes after eating."

"i JUST said my wallet is empty."

"i'll pay for it."

"okay, lets!" you say chirpily, what can you say? you like free stuff. who were you to turn that down?

"[name]..." akaashi begins.

"hey, are you really okay?" it was kuroo who finished the question everyone in this table was most probably dying to ask.

"yes," you say without hesitation, because you really were.

"people online can be really harsh," kenma adds, having known from experience.

"yeah," you shrug, "but i'm really fine, don't you guys believe me?"

"of course we believe you it's just that it's with oikawa's fanbase you know," kuroo points out.

"so? he's like any other celebrity out there," you shrug, acting cool.

"except you actually loved him."

"yes, loved, past tense," you pout, it wavers though.

kuroo sighs, "it was as if it was only yesterday when you were raving on about having a necklace with his initials on it.”

“shut up!” you point your fork at him and snarl.

"[name], just remember that we're always here for you whenever you need anything," akaashi says in a serious tone.

"i know," you say softly. you feel kenma's hand reach out over to your side and comfortingly pats the back of yours, "just so we're clear, i still really hate him," you frown.

"yeah yeah just eat your food," kuroo rolls his eyes, finding your statement hard to believe.

"eat faster, [name], the shoes are waiting," kenma says while scrolling on his phone, already browsing the store he wants to buy shoes from so he could just ask for it later on.

"she's going to choke on her food if she eats any faster," akaashi shakes his head.

masterlist — previous | next

✦ fun facts !

kageyama is a singer because if oikawa can be an actor then he can be a singer.

[name] always wore that necklace with oikawa’s initials on it back in the day (she doesn’t wear it anymore but she keeps it in a drawer says its too expensive to just throw away)

nonsense ! an oikawa tooru social media au

synopsis. you were oikawa tooru’s #1 fan, until you became his #1 hater. you hated him so much you went viral on twitter (accidentally) and literally became known as “the oikawa tooru hater”, doesn’t help that he keeps fueling the fire by subtweeting you. everyone is all in for this new drama. what isn’t known to the public, is that this particular drama’s been on hold for three years (him being your ex and all).

a/n — hating filler? haha just kidding (i love friendship)

taglist is open ! + @kawaii-angelanne @ceneridiankaa @kittycasie @rukia-uchiha-98 @polish-cereal @kellesvt @rockleeisbaeeee @kashxyou @imsoluvly @jjulliette @tooruchiiscribs @littlefreakjulia @gomjohs @qualitygiantshoepsychic @mellowknightcolorfarm

#haikyuu smau #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #celebrity au #celebrity smau #actor au #model au #college au #haikyuu smau series #oikawa tooru x you #haikyuu oikawa tooru #exes to lovers #— nonsense. #— smaus. #haikyuu fluff #hq #oikawa tooru #haikyuu x you #hq smau

[who1ssheesh]

Fluff Xanxus promts

From prompt list by @novelbear

Notes: I love his so much I wanted to cry while writing this. He is OOC and I’m not sorry, I truly believe big scary characters have the softest souls.

Warnings: OOC, not proofread at all, English is still not my native language (maybe one day idk I way told you gotta drink a potion for that), sweating as always, a droplet of sadness

⋆ Always giving the other the first bite of their food

You think Xanxus is bitching again. Maybe it’s all about an almost shoe cook for the reason your man himself couldn’t explain, but who could be sure. He is creaking the plate with a fork messing his untouched meal, and you swear to god are trying to be patient.

You mutter under your nose and get back to your phone, leaving Xanxus alone with his mood swings.

Until you feel something touch you cheek - too hot and too good smelling to be his lips or tongue.

“The hell are you doing?”, with a confused gaze you look at Xanxus holding out some steak piece on a fork.

“Shut the fuck up and eat”, he doesn’t sound irritated as usual though, more like…passive. Even calm you could say, but Xanxus is never calm, right?

“Is my man pampering me?”, you cannot help but smile, especially pointing out those words he oh so much likes, and shake your head coquettishly.

“Just making sure my food isn’t poisoned, brat”, Xanxus answers with a slight smirk that doesn’t go past your eyes.

⋆ Keeping a few of their favorite snacks in the house for when they visit

Xanxus is not domestic at all. A bit whiny cat that comes by your house from time time for the longest time. At least that’s what he thinks, after some times you notice ок is around your apartment more times than he is absent, which allows you to find out some of his habits. Sleeping on a specific side for example. The way Xanxus keeps bumping your leg when he wants you attention or…him having the sweetest tooth in the world.

It started with a cheesecake. You didn’t pay much attention, because eating everything in your house and leaving is pretty Xanxus, to be honest here. But then you see that only certain sweets disappear, it feels as if a very big scary bulky mafioso visits you just to steal candies. He, it seems, enjoys something on a lighter side, not too sweet - cakes with fruits for their little sourness, bitter coffee flavored chocolates. He does indeed enjoy pastry and “fancy” patisserie goods but hates caramel, to this day you wonder why.

You have to admit, getting cakes almost on a daily for Xanxus does bite your wallet - just imagine, this almost two meter high thick man eats twice as much, if not trice, as you.

“You like lemon cheesecakes, huh?”, he occasionally asks while passing by. “You ass gonna become fat”, he threatens you with his finger, and you smirk at his humor despite him having a deadpan usual face - you just feel when he is in a frisky mood.

“You like thick ass, don’t you?”

Xanxus barks a laugh in return

“I think I want to try a matcha cake roll from the new bakery nearby”, you nonchalantly add, smugly looking at his broad back.

“I think you want a rosemary lemon one.”

“What makes you think so?”

“Cause you like the taste, idiot”.

You look at Xanxus checking his gun and getting ready to leave and can’t help but smile way too fondly for your liking.

“Yeah, I think you are right”

Xanxus used to have caramels as a child - very rarely, and his poor mother surely tried her best despite her condition to find at least a couple of them hoping to make her son happy just a little. She used to hide them all around their place, and Xanxus didn’t even realize it was her, being proud with his detective work and annoyingly sniffing around. It didn’t feel the same with Nono, maybe the blood and tears spoiling the taste despite the unthinkable about of money his father could and would throw his way. But it’s…funnier with you. Because Xanxus can again play a smiffing all around detective and find a delicious prize there. You are not dumb and certainly catch something with your foxy witty eyes and mischievous smile and jokes here and there but keep playing along. This small game puts Xanxus” torn soul…at ease.

But you shouldn’t know any of that, he will selfishly keep memories of his dear mother to himself the same way he did with those caramels, and sometimes he can feel pouty because you will never understand how much this small gesture from you means to him.

He doesn’t eat caramels though. Brings back bitter memories.

⋆ Kisses. on. the. tip. of. the. nose.

⋆ Zipping or buttoning their jacket for them

Xanxus is already a pain in every place possible and he makes sure he is the biggest one all the time. It’s not easier in the slightest when he is injured and getting angry because of his lack of autonomy.

You look at his swearing - which is feting louder every second - and thin your lips, not sure what to do. Yes, he has said some rude words to you. Yes, you know that your feelings matter, but realizing where Xanxus has his mood come from softens you.

You sigh in defeat, looking at his pathetic attempts to button up his shirt while having one of his arms is broken - even putting in on was a sight to see, to be fair. You don’t say a word and don’t even look up at your partner, buttoning his shirt with a frown but being so delicate, as if you can hurt one of he most dangerous people around.

Xanxus doesn’t object a bit, patiently - which is an achievement for him - waiting for you to finish, and here you both are just silently standing here and not moving anywhere.

You look up at Xanxus and he rolls his eyes in return as if not to look at you on purpose.

Your heart sings just by looking in his eyes and you cannot help but stand on your tiptoes and cup his face. Kissing the tip of his nose, you smile at his wincing face and leave one more kiss. And more. And more. Until you finally leave your butterfly touch on his lips.

⋆ Waiting until they safely reach the front of the door or get inside before driving off

Xanxus has been trying to show he’s serious, starting with driving you himself instead of sending a chauffeur, and you are glad he sis this. Both of you feel comfort in a shared silence, his hand rubbing your hip or even nipping sometimes so you don’t fall asleep, is so hot to the touch it almost burns your skin. Xanxus doesn’t like when you get to your house, because he doesn’t want to let you go, and he doesn’t give a shit you have certain needs…like sleeping at night.

Every time you walk out of the car, he does so too, and you never understand why since he’s not the one to give a hug as a goodbye - making out in the car is pretty much enough.

“Why are you keep standing there when I go home?”, you ask one day.

“Smoking.”

“Okay.”

You get out of the car, and Xanxus does so too again. He puts his hands in his pockets, no cigarettes visible anywhere and knowing his shitty humour you are certain that was one of those dumb jokes.

You go to the building and turn around before entering and you see Xanxus drilling a hole in your back with an intense gaze.

“Hey, my house could be very dangerous too, you never know”, you start, and he lifts his brow. “Maybe you just start staying overnight?”

Xanxus grins.

⋆ Doing their makeup for them

Sleepy Xanxus is a sight to behold. His dve is still wet from the water - he hasn’t even used a towel after washing his face and even cuter you find him unable to even open his eyes, wrinkling his nose and muttering some curses with a hoarse voice.

You cant help but smile and squish his cheeks - non-existent basically because he has pronounced masculine cheekbones but you are she with the amount of candies he is going to get those eventually - and Xanxus growls.

“I will murder your family.”

“Love you too, babe.”

With a loud growl Xanxus buries his nose in your neck while you try to understand how his feather accessory is supposed to be attached to his hair.

You are not sure, but by the time you finish you think he has fallen asleep again. You just kiss the back of his head and entwine your hands around his shoulders.

Before shaking him violently with all the strength you have.

#khr headcanons #khr imagines #khr x reader #varia x reader #xanxus x reader #katekyo hitman reborn

[stolen-breath]

𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕝𝕖 𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤

:: ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ :: ᴊᴀsᴏɴ ᴛᴏᴅᴅ × ʏ/ɴ

:: ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ :: Iᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ OTP ᴡᴀɴᴅᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀʟʟ. Pᴇʀsᴏɴ A sᴡᴇᴀʀs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʀᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ɪs ʜᴇʀᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ Pᴇʀsᴏɴ B ɪs sᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀ ɪғ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɪᴛ ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴀɢᴏ ᴀɴᴅ Pᴇʀsᴏɴ A ᴊᴜsᴛ ғᴏʀɢᴏᴛ.

:: sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ :: ᴊᴀsᴏɴ ɪɴsɪsᴛs ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀᴇ ʜᴀs ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ʙᴇᴇɴ ʜᴇʀᴇ -- ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇɴᴛɪʀᴇʟʏ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ

:: ᴛᴡs :: ᴍɪʟᴅ sᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ, ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛᴇᴀsɪɴɢ

:: ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ :: 884

:: ʀᴇᴏ̨ᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ :: ɴᴏ

:: sғᴡ | ɴsғᴡ ::

ᴍᴀSᴛᴇƦʟꞮSᴛ

:: ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs :: ugh, hopefully i'm out of my funk now >.<'

:: ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ʙʏ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴏᴛᴘ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛs, ɢᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ sᴏᴍᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ!! ::

When Jason starts the loop anew, you can’t help but wonder if he’s maybe lost his mind.

“I swear, it’s over here.”  He drags you by your wrist, careful not to bruise you with his large fingers, but you can feel it aching anyway.  Gotham Mall is huge, this is the third cycle you’ve made through the first floor, and you’re so tired.

“I think your brain’s all scrambled from all those crowbars up the noggin,” you grumble, only half to yourself.  He either ignores you or doesn’t hear you over the chaos of the crowds around you.  There’s a reason he won’t let go of your wrist.  It’s far too easy to get swept away normally – if Two-Face tries something?  Or Penguin?  Or Joker, or Mister Freeze, or Poison Ivy, or…

Man, Gotham is a really bad place to live.  How are kids still allowed in this crazy city?

“It – it was always here!”  Once again, he stops you in front of the antique store, pointing at it with fingers spread wide in confusion.  “Seriously!  Between the Hot Topic and the World Market!  It’s always been here!”

“It’s literally never been here!”  You try to tug him in the direction of the food court, but he’s still ranting at the Game-On! sign in front of him.  “I’m telling you, it’s on the second floor!  Next to the food court!  C’mon, Jay, I’m starving!”

He shakes his fist at the offending store in remarkably cartoonish frustration.  "I'll unveil your secret.  It's on now, Game-On."  With a final huff, he allows you to pull him toward the escalators (elevators give you the willies).  As you stand on the moving stairs, squished between a man with a baby backpack and a woman whose expression screams "I'm looking for a fight", you can’t help but boop Jason’s crooked nose.

“Relax,” you tease, relishing the mix of emotions – confused, annoyed, embarrassed, adorable – that cross his face.  “You’re not you when you’re hungry.  We’ll grab some Chinese and start looking again when we’ve got some energy.”

“Pretzels,” he grumbles, flicking your nose in return.  “I deserve pretzels after this betrayal.”

“Fine, fine.  But you’re paying, Mister Richie-rich.  I don’t have Auntie Anne’s money.”

As you approach the food court, a more-than-familiar sign gleams to your right.  Jason seems distracted by the neon pretzel, so you allow yourself a sneaky glance.  Sure enough, there it is.  It’s so hard not to reveal it to him right now, to bask in the warm glow of “I told you so”.  It’s always way more fun to let him discover it himself.  You bite your lower lip, keeping perfectly still as Jason orders two large pretzels – one with cinnamon sugar, one with a large dipping pot of cheese.  It’s fake cheese.  He’s told you this a thousand times, keeps demanding you let him just cook for you – but even though his cheese is almost as good as Alfred’s, there’s just something viscerally satisfying about melted fake cheese.

He doesn’t notice it.  You’re on edge the entire time you tear through your pretzel.  He chuckles at the way you eat it – you’re not the type to eat food daintily, with a fork and a knife and a little finger sticking out for fancy points.  You rip it apart and stuff it in your mouth.  Thank god he finds it endearing – but too bad that he’s too distracted laughing at how adorable (his words, words you smack him for every time) you look when you eat.  If he wasn’t teasing you, he’d notice the missing shop directly behind you, lights flashing in a desperate bid for his attention.

Finally, you take the final bite of pretzel, licking the salt and cheese off your fingers before wiping them down on a napkin.  “Amazing!”  He claps his hands.  “A glorious display of the rare Y/N in the wild.  This will make an amazing addition to my documenta–”

Somehow, his face manages to glow with excitement and fall in humiliation in a single expression.  You wish you were faster at getting your camera out – it’s gone in a moment, now red with frustration.  “Y/N!” he shouts, shooting out of his chair so fast it clatters to the floor behind him.  Other customers turn to stare, but you’re the only one who seems to care, your own face flushing as red as his.  “It’s there!  It’s right fucking there!”

“Told you it was on the second floor.”  You offer him your sweetest smile in spite of your embarrassment, gathering your messy napkins and greasy pretzel-holders off the table.  “But looping the ground floor was okay too – we needed the exercise.”

“You shut up.”  But he’s not saying it to be mean.  Even his ears are red!  He grabs the trash from your hands and shoves it into the overfull container, then grabs your hand.  “Ugh… I’m sorry.  I seriously thought it was downstairs.  C’mon, I wanna show you my favorite authors!  This place has some real goodies – stuff even older than Alfred.  And that’s saying a lot.  I heard that he fought in the Revolutionary War!”

You laugh in delight as he drags you away once again – this time, not in a fruitless effort to find a store in a place it never was to begin with.

#jason todd x oc #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd headcanon #dc imagine #batfam x reader #batfam x you

[domripley]

Fill Me

Pairing: Charlotte Flair/Reader; Past!Becky/Reader/Charlotte

Warnings: Breeding Kink, Sugar Daddy!Charlotte/Sugar Baby!Reader, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Spanking, Pussy Spanking, Charlotte loves to tease reader about Becky, Reader loves to tease her right back, Orgasm Denial, Daddy Kink, Praise Kink

Summary: When you tease Charlotte on a date, Charlotte gets you back. (But that’s what you were hoping for).

You looked over the menu, unsure of what to pick. Charlotte had taken you to a fancy restaurant - one that you had brought up before the two of you started your agreement. You had once dated her close friend, Becky, and for your last date, she had taken you to this place. Becky and you didn't work out, but remained close - occasionally teasing you about how much Charlotte and you were perfect for each other. The only thing she didn't know was that the two of you weren't dating. That Charlotte loved spending her money on you, buying you everything you've ever wanted. The only thing she wanted in return was you - which you had no problem with. There were no strings attached, and she sometimes loved sharing you with some of her friends. Before you could think further of those times, Charlotte brought you back to reality.

"Baby, have you decided on what you want tonight?" Charlotte asked with a raised eyebrow. You bit your lip, looking back down at the menu.

"I think I'll get the personal pizza this time, what about you?" you asked, sitting your menu down to see Charlotte smirking at you. Licking her lips, she hummed in response.

"I'm thinking about Chicken Alfredo, without the chicken."

"Sounds good."

While eating, you came up with a good idea. "So, I was thinking about you and one of your friend's fucking me," you admit, voice low as Charlotte twirled the noodles on her fork. Stopping what she was doing to look up at you, silently edging you to go on. "Well, you and Becky this time. You know how she used to fuck me, even in a busy restaurant. Kinda miss calling her Daddy."

You knew you'd done it now, but her calm demeanor was very surprising. Taking a bite of your pizza, you watched as a smirk creeped up on her face.

"You're such a slutty baby, teasing Daddy at dinner like this. If we weren't in public, I'd have you over my knee. But you and I both know you'd want that."

Your jaw dropped - you weren't expecting Charlotte to say such things so casually, but she wasn't wrong. You loved when she spanked you, treated you roughly, and she loved treating you like that. One night, you asked her if she was okay with you bringing up Becky (you wanted to make sure she was a hundred percent okay with it), and she was more than okay with it.

---

After dinner, Charlotte's driver was waiting outside of the restaurant for both of you. The drive to the restaurant was a two hour drive, but the food was definitely worth it. As soon as he started driving, she rolled up the divider to give the two of you privacy.

"You're in trouble baby, teasing me. You know how much I wanted to bend you over the table and take you in front of everyone?" she breathed, pulling onto her lap. "Do you feel Daddy's cock? I don't think you deserve it tonight, and it's even my special one that you love so much."

You let out a whimper, grinding against her lap. You knew which toy she was referring to, and it made you want her more. "Daddy, please. I want your cock," you pouted. Wrapping your hand around her throat as you pulled her into a kiss. Pulling your shirt off of you, Charlotte you back into a kiss as quick as she could. Unclasping your bra, she threw it onto the floor of the limo.

"We're not going to fuck in here, sweet girl. Just gonna tease you until we're back in my place; however, I am going to spank you. Over my lap," she said, sitting up straight on the seat, she watched as you slowly laid across your lap. Before starting, she rolled the divider down. "Scott, you can turn the music up on your side."

You felt embarrassment creep up, but as soon as the divider went back up, you felt better. "Now, (Your Name), since we're in a moving vehicle, I'm going to go easy on you. Ten spanks for teasing me, and when we get home, I'll fuck you so good with my cock. Understood? What's your safeword?"

"Safeword is 'Sky'." you said, biting your lip as she pulled your pants down to your ankles. You could feel the toy against your stomach, and you couldn't wait to be filled. Charlotte's left hand came down, pinching at your nipple as her right hand rubbed at your ass.

"Good girl. Count for me." she said, bringing her hand down against your left ass cheek. The sting wasn't too bad, but it went straight to your core. Pressing your knees harder against the seat to keep yourself still, you let out a breathy "One, Daddy."

The next two spanks were on your right ass cheek, Charlotte took her time, making you wait in anticipation. "Two, Three, Daddy."

"Four, Five, Six." you gasped, trying your best to keep up with her. Knowing that if you messed up, you'd be recounting.

"Doing so good for me, Daddy's proud of you. Good girl for me, takin' these spankings so well for me. You definitely deserve Daddy's cock." she praised, bringing her right hand to your pussy. Rubbing the pad of her thumb against your clit, she chuckled as you tried to wiggle away from her.

"Your cunt's so swollen and soaked. Is this all for me? Or is this for Becky?" she teased, running harder as you let out a loud moan. Now you understood why she had her driver turn on music.

"You! You, Daddy. You're the only one who can get me this needy." you cried out as she pulled her hand away. Bringing her thumb up to her mouth, she began to suck on it, humming in satisfaction.

"Seven, eight, nine!" you cried out, her spanking your pussy was a surprise. You let out a whimper as she went back to rubbing your pussy. Soothing praises falling from her mouth, telling you how much of a good girl you were for her. Making sure you were okay before she continued.

The last spank, landing on your pussy once more, but when you failed to say ten, she let it go. "Gonna make you come on my fingers, you be a good girl and ask Daddy when you're ready to." she moaned, pushing a finger into your entrance. "Do you like when I fuck you with my rings on?"

You didn't answer her question verbally, only nodding as she slipped in a second digit. Curling her fingers, she watched as you shook as she rubbed against your g-spot. Pulling at your hair with her left hand, you let out a groan. "My baby's getting my pants all wet, dirty girl. Apologize for being a filthy whore."

"I-I'm sorry, Daddy." you moaned, growing closer to the edge of your orgasm. You knew you needed to ask, but a part of you wanted to come without permission.

"Sorry for what?" Rolling your hips against her legs, you knew you weren't going to be able to hold it any longer.

"Please, Daddy? I need to come, please, please!" you gasped, your orgasm him hitting you. But as fast as you were coming, Charlotte pulled her fingers out of you. Tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as your orgasm faded away.

"I didn't give you permission, nor did you answer my question. Do you want me to ruin your orgasms all night, because I will baby, and you won't get my cock."

"No, Daddy, and I'm sorry for getting your pants all wet." you whimpered as she slid three of her fingers into your soaked pussy.

"Good girl, apology accepted. You may come now, and this time, tell me when you are."

She fucked you at a hard pace, curling her fingers up to give you what you wanted. "Oh god, Daddy. Faster, harder, please!" you were desperate for more, and as Charlotte added a fourth finger, you were close to the edge once more.

"You're taking four of my fingers, making Daddy so proud. Come on my fingers, that's it princess, you deserve this." she moaned as you came with a moan, Charlotte continued to fuck you through it. Pulling out her fingers as soon as you gripped her wrist to stop her movements.

Bringing her fingers to her mouth, she cleaned them off one by one, "I will never get tired of your sweet little pussy. Come sit on my lap, let's rest until we get to my house."

---

Once at her house, she carried you inside. Thankful that Scott knew not to ask any questions as he wished the two of you goodnight. Charlotte placed you on the couch, before pulling her jacket off. "I'm fucking you here, can't wait any longer." she moaned, unbuttoning her dress shirt halfway. She loved fucking you half clothed while you were completely exposed.

"Take the rest of your clothes off, and get on your knees for me." she instructed, watching intently as she kicked her shoes off. You did as you were told, pulling your pants, along with your panties. You made it to your knees, reaching up to unbuckle her belt. She pulled it out, tossing it onto the couch as you unzipped her pants.

"If you're a good girl, gonna buy you that car you really wanted, and six things off your Amazon wishlist." she moaned as you pulled her pants down, reaching up to rub your finger against her pussy underneath the strapon. "Suck my cock, get it nice and wet."

You stopped what you were doing to grip the base of the toy, wrapping your lips around the tip as you looked up at Charlotte. Trying your best to keep eye contact with her as you pushed yourself further down onto it. Feeling her hand snake through your hair, you relaxed your throat as she pushed you all the way on it. Your nose touching her stomach as she tapped your cheek.

"You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, do you like when I fuck your face?" she asked, and you knew she wanted an answer.

You nodded your head as best as you could, humming to let her know you loved it. "Put your hands on my thighs, and if you need me to stop either snap your fingers, or scratch the hell out of my thighs. I won't be upset if you need me to stop, understand?"

You pulled off her strap to let her know you understood what she was saying, soon after you wrapped your mouth around the toy once again. Holding your head with both of her hands, she began to fuck your mouth at a slow pace. You had to get used to it before going faster.

Picking up her pace, Charlotte watched as your eyes watered. She always loved when you did that. As you let go of your head, she thrusted into your mouth harder - finally fucking your throat. You could do this for hours, but she didn't have the patience - not when you looked this pretty. Pulling the tube out of her pants, Charlotte kicked them off before pushing you off.

"Get on the couch, Princess. Lay on your back for me, yeah?" she breathed, walking out of the room for what you guessed was a bottle of lube. Coming back, she was still in her dress shirt, but you didn't mind. "Actually, I want you to ride my cock. Want you to work for it."

She laid down on the couch, squirting some of the lube onto her hand and proceeded to jerk the toy off. Motioning for you to come sit on the toy, Charlotte grabbed a pillow and placed it behind her head. Straddling her strap, you sunk down on it. "You're so tight, baby, can't wait to stretch you."

You sat still, trying your best to adjust to it. Charlotte reached up, kneading your breasts as you moved up on her strap. "That's a good girl, move when you're ready, slut." she moaned, rubbing the pads of her thumbs against your hardened nipples.

"Daddy, please," you whined, fucking yourself slowly. Charlotte kept her eyes on you even as she let go of your breasts. You wanted her to fuck you back, fuck up into you, but you knew her better than that. She was going to make you work for it - especially since you made the comments about Becky at dinner.

"What do you want, slut? You're begging for more even as you're fucking it? What? Your greedy little cunt needs more?" she chuckled, surprising you by fucking up into you at a rough pace.

Holding onto your hips to keep you in one place, she fucked you harder than what she normally would. But you loved it, loved the feeling it gave when you were allowed to come. "Cock feels s'good. You fuck me so good, Daddy." you praised, smirking when she let out a breathy moan. She loved when you praised her, and you were always willing to do it.

Holding you by the waist, Charlotte picked you up and placed you on your back. She fucked into you at a bruising pace, wrapping her hand around your throat as her other one began to rub at your clit. "Do you like when I fuck you like this? Fuck you like the slut you are?"

"Uh-huh." you gasped, your second orgasm of the night building as she snapped her hips. "Please, m'need to come."

"Yeah? You wanna come? Do you want Daddy to come with you?" she moaned, leaning down to kiss you. You knew what she meant by that - needing it more than your own orgasm.

"Please, please! Want you to come, want you to fill me up," you cried, as she grabbed the tube. Her lips ghosting over your ear, you moaned as you felt her breath.

"You want Daddy to fuck you until I empty out in you? Watch it come out of that slutty little cunt? My cunt?" she moaned, biting your ear lobe as you cried out 'Yes, Daddy'. Sitting up, she pulled the toy halfway out as she rubbed your clit harder. "Are you ready, baby? You ready for Daddy's come?" she moaned, and when you nodded, she squeezed the ball at the end of the tube.

Letting out a cry as the liquid filled you, coming as she picked up her pace. "You love when I fill you up? You love when Daddy makes you feel nice and full?" Charlotte fucked you through your orgasm.

"Fuck, wish it was real." she moaned as she stilled her movements. Pulling out of you, she pushed her fingers into your cunt. "You're a good girl, so proud of you." Charlotte watched as the fake come seeped out of you. That was her favorite part - being able to see you all blissed out, she'd never get tired of it.

"You wanna go upstairs and cockwarm me tonight?" she asked, pulling you on her lap. She bit back a moan as the lube dripped down onto her thighs.

"Yes, please."

You smiled softly as she carried you up the stairs, you couldn't wait for round two.

#oof this fic is old but i cannot part ways with it #my writing #mine

[ghoulsister1]

•~♡~♡Sweet Indulgence♡~♡~•

Manfred Von Richtofen x GN!Reader. SFW. Fluff. Reader caring for Manfred. Manfred has a sweet tooth. Tummy aches. Just sweet tender moments. A sweet story all around. Poor Manny has a tummy ache.

☆Anonymous Request☆

•~♡•~♡•~♡•~♡•~♡•~♡•~♡•~♡•~♡•~♡•~♡•~♡•~

Manfred's fame has spread far and wide across Germany and across the battlefield, so with fame comes fans and publicity, signing autographs and the like. That also includes a free ticket to all the sweet and fancy expensive food, leading to Manfred engaging in overindulgence with some consequences.

You knew what you were getting into when you and Manfred Von Richtofen, the famous Red Baron. With his growing fame and popularity came publicity. It wasn't unusual for crowds to surround you and Manfred, asking for autographs to be signed, pictures and some would give or send him gifts. The German Empire would use Manfred as a symbol of how Germany had the best ace and that the Red Baron was a man to be feared across the Fronts. The skies weren't safe when the Red Baron was about.

But it wasn't all bad. With the autographs of The Red Baron being worth fortunes, you and Manfred had plenty of money from selling the autographs and with that money you and Manfred had access to better rations and could buy expensive food to treat yourselves.

You remember coming home with a paper bag with ration foods and a big smile. Manfred smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"Went to the bakery today Manny. And look what I got us for tea" You Explained and pulled out a cake box with a delightful smile. Manfred's eyes widened at the sight of the cake box.

"I got us a cream roll with strawberries" You Admitted and you felt your heart warm at the sight of Manfred's excited look as he got closer to you.

"It's been such a long time since I last had a cream roll with strawberries" Recalled Manfred looking at the cake box before gazing at you fondly. You reached up and cupped his face softly.

"Well, now we can have it for our tea this evening" You Confirmed and pressed a kiss to Manfred's lips, Manfred returning the kiss with a chuckle. That evening over a cup of tea, you and Manfred enjoyed the sweet taste of the cream roll, Manfred even licking up the fork afterwards and smacking his lips satisfied.

"Lecker! I could go for another one!" Remarked Manfred. You chuckled at that.

"Maybe tomorrow I'll pick up another cream roll. For now, let's relax this evening my love" You Smiled.

"Agreed" Manfred Smiled. And you two spent the evening together, reading in the drawing room as the gramophone played a melody in the background as you snuggled in Manfred's arms.

From that day, Manfred had developed a very ravenous appetite for the sweetness of cakes and such delicacy. You understood that being away from such luxuries while out in battle would make Manfred miss the sweet treats and good food like steak and roast chicken, but still you had to tell Manfred to slow down with his eating.

"Manny, slow down! You've eaten three strawberry cupcakes and an éclair! You do know we are having in dinner in an hour" You Warned as you watched him scraff down another strawberry cupcake with delight.

"But they are so tasty! Bitte meine Liebe, just one more!" Pleaded Manfred giving you his best puppy eyes as you sighed.

"You're gonna get sick if you eat too much sweet treats Manny" You Warned as Manfred picked up a strawberry cupcake and eat it with a smile on his face, licking his lips.

"Nonsense! I won't get sick!" Declared Manfred with a smile on his face. You giggled and shook your head. You continued to pick up the sweet treats with the money along with food and such. You'd watch as Manfred would sneak off with 5 cookies in his pocket as he went to work on his trophy room in the house or swipe a slice of cake when you weren't looking.

Until one day you came back from the market and saw that Manfred had not gotten out of bed yet. You frowned, this was unusual as Manfred was always up and about. You placed the shopping in the kitchen and went upstairs, calling out to Manfred.

"Manny? Manny are you up? Manny?" You Called. You entered into your shared bedroom and found Manfred still in bed. You looked confused.

"Manny? Are you awake?" You Asked. A pained groan was your answer and you rushed to his side. He was curled up in bed, clutching his stomach and groaning.

"Manny, tell what's wrong?" You Pleaded, worried he was hurt or suffering from some serious illness. Manfred looked at you, he was looking very sickly.

"Liebling, my stomach......" Groaned Manfred. You grew more concerned as Manfred struggled to tell you what's wrong.

"Your stomach? What's wrong with your stomach??" You Asked concerned. Manfred looked at you and his expression was a mix of embarrassment and discomfort.

"I have a belly ache!" Admitted Manfred, a pink blush coming to his cheeks despite his situation. You blinked a few times at Manfred, wondering if he was joking or serious or whatever.

"You have a tummy ache?" You Reapeated. Manfred groaned something that sounded like a yes. You nodded and raised an eyebrow at him.

"And do you know what could have made you get a tummy ache, Manny?" You Asked, knowing full well what the answer was but you wanted to hear him say it.

"Mmff" Mumbled Manfred, his voice muffled by the silk pillow he laid his face on. You shook your head.

"Repeat that Manfred" You Asked.

"Mmmfff!" Mumbled Manfred more loudly but still muffled by the pillow. You rolled your eyes and pulled the pillow slowly away.

"Please repeat it. This time without the silk pillow to muffle it" You Asked. Manfred groaned but turned to you and looked at you, defeated.

"The sweet treats" Admitted Manfred at last and you gave him back the silk pillow as he rolled on to his back with a groan.

"Gott, es tut weh! I feel like I'm gonna throw up!" Cried Manfred as he clutched his stomach. Despite Manfred bringing this on himself, you didn't want to have him suffering all day.

"I know my sweetheart, tummy aches are the worst. But I know some remedies that might make you feel better" You Suggested smiling softly as Manfred looked at you with sad eyes.

"Ja bitte! Anything that could help Liebling, thank you" Smiled Manfred weakly as you smiled back and set about caring for your poor Red Baron.

You made him sit up gently and helped him drink some water, little sips first. You also made him some toast, remembering how toast used to help you when you were sick in the stomach. You sat beside him in bed, cuddling him and rubbing your tumb along his knuckles as you held his hand, just enjoying the quiet of the morning and the birds singing outside.

"I may have overate" Remarked Manfred blushing as his stomach look a little big but not overly big. Manfred's face twisted as his stomach knotted unpleasantly.

"I feel so sick" Groaned Manfred in a pained face. You hugged Manfred and made him lie down on the bed.

"My poor Manny" You Cooed as you lifted up his pj shirt and rubbed his belly to soothe his aching tummy. You continued doing this and you began to see a positive change in Manfred.

"Does this feel better?" You Asked smiling as Manfred gave you a smile.

"Ja, that does feel better. Thank you" Replied Manfred as he enjoyed the warm, soothing belly rubs and you smiled.

Soon, Manfred began to feel better and you both embrace in a cuddly hug, giggling and chuckling.

"You were right Y/N, I shouldn't have overate all those sweet treats" Manfred Admitted.

"It's okay Manny, I'm just glad you're feeling better" You Smiled.

"All thanks to you, mein süßes Mädchen" Remarked Manfred smiling and you two cuddled more closely on the bed.

"I bought home a cream roll with strawberries for tea" You Recalled. You giggled as Manfred gave you a grimace at the thought of eating another sweet dessert.

"Let's leave that for another time ja?" Asked Manfred chuckling. You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Manfred and You spent that morning, cuddling and play fighting as Manfred began to feel better. You were Manfred's best medicine that day.

•~♡•~♡•~♡•~♡•~♡•~♡•~♡•~♡•~♡•~♡•~♡•~♡•~

#manfred von richthofen #the red baron #marc warren #young indiana jones #attack of the hawkmen #fanfiction #request #sfw #cuddle #fluffy #anonymous request #ww1

[salamangreatsynchroshoukan]

"You're paying me for this, right?"

TakeRyo | Recoilshipping idea.

Post canon. Ryoken keeps asking Takeru (and Sb by default) to do certain tasks for him.

"Fetch this for me"

"Deliver this to x location"

"Investigate this shaddy place"

"Beat up this dude in VRAINS"

Takeru accepts for one reason only: Ryoken pays good and he pays in cash.

He definitely doesn't begin to enjoy his meetings with Ryoken as time passes by, it's all definitly about the money he's getting! Takeru also doesn't attempt to extend those meetings by asking Ryoken if he knew some random fact about some fish that he overheard while walking by some fisherman at the docks or anything like that!

Nope!

And when Takeru starts asking Ryoken how things are going or how his day was, it was just him being polite! He didn't care about Ryoken —Revolver!!— at all. It was just for the job.

And Ryoken didn't notice anything strange, of course. He didn't notice how Takeru now refused to look him in the eyes, or how he immediately pulled his hand away —face entirely red— when he kept accidentally brushing fingers with Takeru's as he passed him the payment he'd promised.

It was, of course, also unrelated that he started picking restaurants as their meeting place, and that he always had food to share at the table once Takeru arrived.

It was a hassle for both of them that they just had to share food, because it was always too much for Ryoken to eat by himself and Takeru refused to let good food go to waste.

"So you got another date, hmmm?" Kiku asked Takeru every time.

"I'M NOT DATING HIM!!" Was Takeru's answer, but his tone got increasingly louder every time he had to say it. And he became increasingly flustered by the idea, too.

They definitely were not dating.

This was an absolute truth.

Just because Takeru began adding good mornings and good nights to his messages to Ryoken, it didn't really meant anything. For either of them.

Ryoken also didn't began to expect those messages. Didn't look at them over and over again while working on his computer.

When Ryoken invited Takeru to dinner to that expensive restaurant, he absolutely did not plan to properly ask him to be something more.

"You keep doing that" Ryoken says when he notices Takeru glance at him for the 6th time. He could've pointed it out sooner, but he didn't want to. The way Takeru struggled to keep himself in check was undeniably adorable.

"Doing what?!" Takeru asks, maybe a little too loud as people from neighboring tables turned around and gave them a judgmental sare for a few seconds.

Takeru shrank in his own chair as he noticed that; it was embarrassing enought when the receptionist looked him up and down as he clearly wasn't dressed accordingly to this place's standards, now every person around them was looking straight at him.

It took him a few seconds —or an entire minute— to repeat himself, lower this time.

"Doing what...?"

Ryoken had to cover his mouth, hiding a smile that could only be attributed to a demon. Maybe even to the devil himself.

Takeru was too cute like this. Ryoken couldn't keep himself from messing with him.

"You keep looking at me."

"Well, you're right in front of me." Takeru frowns, and finally looks him in the eye. "It's not like I can avoid it."

It seemed it was easier for Takeru to look at him when he was annoyed. Good.

"Is that so." Ryoken takes a bite off his food, lets his lips linger on the fork for a little too long, sliding it a little too slow.

Takeru stares, then looks away again, blushing.

"If I didn't know any better," Once again, the devil was speaking. "I'd say you keep looking at me because you like me."

Takeru's eyes open wide.

"As if-!!" His voice is too loud again, enough to earn him a shhh from someone. He already hated fancy places before, but after this he would NEVER set foot in one ever again.

"I'd even say you gota crush on me," Ryoken's laugh is low, but not any less irritating to Takeru for that.

Refusing to say anything else, Takeru starts engulfing his food. The quicker they're over with this, the better. He needs to get out of this assap.

"Hmm. Keeping your thoughts to yourself?" Ryoken pokes at him, under the table, tapping Takeru's leg with his foot.

Takeru chokes on his food.

"If you like me, don't you think should date me?" Ryoken pushes, and Takeru might as well had fallen off a cliff, but instead he fell backwards —chair included— as he tried to get away from the demon he was sharing tables with.

They got kicked out, or well, politely asked to leave the restaurant after that. Ryoken paid no mind to it, finding it endearing how when he held Takeru's hand to help him up, Takeru had squeezed —clinged— a little bit too hard.

But for Takeru, this was too much. This was WAY over anything Ryoken could pay him. This fucker was so full of himself. Just because Takeru thought he had a handsome face and pretty eyes a few times, it didn't mean he liked him that way. It didn't mean anything!

Takeru was so glad he was on the driver's seat on the way back to his own house because it meant Ryoken wouldn't be bothering him as much. Or so he thought —hoped for— since Ryoken took the backseat.

He was wrong.

"So?" Ryoken asked, locking eyes through the mirror. "Are you asking me out now?"

It took everything in Takeru to not immediately hit the breaks and get outta the damned car, run away, then beg Kiku to teach him how to block Ryoken's number and email on every single one of his comunication devices.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, decided to ignore the man in the backseat. Imagined himself in a happy place. A peaceful place. No Ryoken Kogamis in sight. Ah.

So peaceful.

He could even feel the breeze on his neck-

Except it wasn't a breeze. It was Ryoken, blowing softly against Takeru's neck.

The seat belt was the only thing that kept Takeru from flying outta the car now.

"What is wrong with you!?" Takeru finally gives, parking the car so he can, get the seat belt off, turn around and grab Ryoken by the collar of his fancy suit that he was only now noticing wasn't his usual.

Not that he cared.

"Why do you keep pushing me like this!?" He shook Ryoken a little, but he remained unbothered. "Is this some kind of game? Did you get bored of hacking shit or something?!"

Ryoken's actions made no sense to Takeru, unless he was trying to mess with him, there was no reason for this out of nowhere dinner invitation.

"Do you want to go out with me?" The question Takeru let out was for both of them, but also mainly for himself, as he tried to rationalize whatever Ryoken could've had in mind for orchestrating this.

Ryoken, on his side, got exactly what he wanted. And he wouldn't give Takeru the change to rethink or clarify what he'd just said.

"Well, if you ask me like such a gentleman, how could I say no."

Takeru would have punched Ryoken's pretty face if he wasn't using all of his brain capacity to come to terms with the treachery he'd just fallen victim to.

He let go of Ryoken and finally got out of the damn car. Ryoken couldn't help but laugh as he saw Takeru walk to the opposite side of the street, walk in circles a few times, then letting out a very loud "FUCK!" before walking himself back to the car and into the driver's seat.

Takeru wanted to smash his face against the steering wheel so he could pretend the red in his face was from that and not because he was embarrassed.

Was he really dating Ryoken Kogami?

"You're paying me for this shit, right?" Takeru asked, forehead pressed against the steering wheel.

"If you want me to."

He was dating Ryoken Kogami.

They're officially dating now. When Kiku bothers Takeru about their meetings he can no longer deny they're dates because they might as well be.

Might as well have been from long before Ryoken tricked him into asking him out.

Takeru honestly expect Ryoken to grow tired of this, of their sneaky vrains meet ups, their good mornings and good nights, the late-night calls when neither of them could sleep, their not-dates that might as well be.

Takeru expects that to happen at some point, but starts hopping that it never does. That the brushing of their fingers lingers for a little longer. That their hands keep holding each other's as they talk over coffee. That they keep kissing hello and good bye.

Expectation that Ryoken might grow tired of this turned into fear at some point, even if Ryoken showed no signs of wanting this to stop. Even after Takeru talked about how there was no reason to pay him for this anymore.

Even after he dropped the first I love you during one of those late-night calls on the phone and Ryoken responded with I love you, too.

And after years of I love yous that fear remained in the back of his head.

"I miss you." Soulburner said, holding Revolver's hand.

Ryoken had been away for a while, they hadn't seen each other face to face in a nearly a month and he'd really come to understand just how much weight Ryoken's presence had in his life.

"I'll be back soon." Revolver answered, Soulburner's grip on his hand tightened.

"You're still busy, aren't you?" He can tell, even if Revolver's helmet covers half of his face and he's doing his best to keep his expression in check.

"It's nothing I can't put off for a few minutes."

Soulburner isn't convinced.

"Go and get whatever it is done already. I'm tired of waiting for you."

Soulburner didn't put much thought into his words, but Revolver did.

"I miss you too, you know." He frowned, looking at Soulburner. "So much I had to drop my work because I kept thinking of you."

He looked... hurt. If only a little. It hadn't crossed Takeru's head that maybe he wasn't the only one worried that the other might grow tired of what they had.

I'm tired of waiting for you.

He felt a bit guilty for saying that now.

"I'm tired of waiting." He repeated. "I want you back with me already." Soulburner gulped. "What job is so difficult or important that the mighty Revolver can't even park his ridiculous yacht near his boyfriend's house. You do know I live in a port town, no? Huge pier and all that."

Revolver blinked a few times, then smiled. And oh, who was getting flustered now? The mighty Revolver of course. So much he had to take off his helmet and kiss Soulburner's lips in retaliation.

"The mighty Revolver will see what he can do with that then."

And he disconected.

Stupis Revolver, always wanting to have the final say in things.

His phone ringing with a message from Ryoken was like a siren call, and Takeru made that walk to the docks in record time. He was in fact ten whole minutes earlier, and waiting those out was only worth it once he could see Ryoken's stupid, gorgeous face as he walked down the yacht just to invite him in.

"Are you walking in or do you intend to make me beg?" Ryoken turned around midway, as he noticed Takeru didn't follow. "I mean, you're the one who couldn't live without seeing me for a few days. Oh, I want you back with me already"

Stupid Ryoken, of course he'd make fun of him for that. Takeru would never let guilt make him say something as embarrassing as that ever again.

"Hold my hand." Takeru wasn't about to admit he was slightly afraid of the yachts gangway, so he demanded that Ryoken would lead him instead.

His intent was fairly obvious, but Ryoken didn't mention it. He wouldn't make a joke about Takeru's fears, even if it was a silly one such as a gangway that was a little bit too shaky for his boyfriend's liking.

For the record, Takeru did make him beg later. And Ryoken begged so loud the rest of the Hanoi fleed the yacht for the night.

After that encounter, it was a whole other week before Ryoken came back, for good this time.

And it wasn't even a month after that they decided to share an apartment.

Not that either of them needed to, but the Hanoi begged them to do it. For their sanity.

"Marry me." Ryoken drops one day, a year into living together, with no warning as they shared breakfast in their apartment.

Takeru doesn't seem nervous as he takes a sip of his coffee, letting the words sit between them in silence for a while.

Then, he looks at Ryoken straight in the eyes.

"Are you paying me for this?"

"Absolutely not."

"Then you better have that ring ready."

#recoilshipping #takeryo #takeru homura #ryoken kogami #im bad at fic have whatever this format is instead

[thisfanisgonesorry]

Can you write some relationship fluff for spy. Thank you and have a good day :))

insert arbitrary “hope u enjoy” and “sorry it took so long”, also based by a request my friend sent me back in october (oops)

cw: fluff. das it. u go to dinner. get some spagbol. maybe kiss a bit. i write the tags before i write the fic so u gotta wait and find out buddy. i got dumped too so im kinda using this to cope lol

;;

He sat across from me in the dimly lit booth table, I leaned forward towards him with both elbows on the table as he spoke about his job, any life updates, things he’s done - anything. And I guess that’s the nice thing about a relationship, you have someone that listens when you talk and someone who talks when you want to listen.

“And so I sneaked up into the bushman’s nest, and he’s a fool, so I stabbed him in the back while he was urinating in his filthy jars.” He spoke about his latest misadventure.

“I’m glad you didn’t get hurt.” I said shortly, letting him continue his story.

“Me? Of course not, do you know who you’re speaking to?”

He acted offended, as if he was an amateur, which would imply he was well below his paygrade (I mean, he’s wearing his most expensive suit tonight.. or is that just his work uniform?)

“Right. My bad, continue.”

He continued speaking about his victory, and how he despises the blue team.

“Oh, and right at the end, the blue spy —” He paused to scoff, “ — He almost tore my suit, so naturally, he got shot in the head.”

He wasn’t superficial, well maybe only a little bit, but as you got to know him, it becomes sort of endearing.

“But how have you been, mon cher?” 

“Oh, you know.” I paused, waving my hand around awkwardly as my life wasn’t really as eventful as his. “As good as one can be.”

“Nothing you wish to share?”

“Nothing worth sharing.” I laughed. “Well, my mail got mixed up with my neighbours but you know, nothing crazy.”

He frowned as he picked at his food with his fork, feeling almost guilty about how exciting his work was.

“I love you.” He said quickly, almost like a confession despite saying it a hundred times or more - yet rarely would he say it in english.

“I love you too.”

He smiled and took a sip of his wine, gesturing at our table that we’d so happened to ignore. Expensive restaurants don’t come cheap and probably shouldn’t waste any of it.

“I started reading a book.” I started, trying to think of anything interesting enough to share. “It’s about how love affects the brain and the metaphysical environment it creates in the human psyche. Well, that’s my interpretation of it anyway.”

“How interesting. And how does love create a metaphysical environment in your psyche?”

“Mhm.” I hummed, thinking for a moment. “Makes me like fancy restaurants. And tacky wine, and I like listening to you talk about killing people for money. And, I guess, it makes me like you.”

“Like?”

“You know.”

He smiled and half-cheered his glass, taking another sip before gesturing to the meal, which by this point, was more than likely cold.

“It makes it hard to concentrate on more important things. Like eating. Or sleeping. But I think it’s worth it.”

“I’m glad.”

“Not everyday someone in a very fancy suit buys me a very fancy dress and takes me to a very fancy restaurant with some very fancy wine for no real reason except for the fact that he, for some reason, thinks I’M the interesting one.”

“You’re so interesting, mon cher.” He smiled. “More exciting than my boring old job. You think killing people is fun for me?”

“Maybe a little.”

He nodded. “Yeah, a little but not the point.”

I looked back at our plates for a moment. “You make me feel interesting. Like I actually am, even though all I do is read and.. Well, that’s it.”

“I’d give you libraries if it meant you’d talk to me forever about your books.”

#asks #tf2 #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 fluff #team fortress two #team fortress spy #tf2 headcanons #tf2 spy #spy tf2 #spy tf2 smut #spy tf2 x you #spy tf2 x reader #tf2 spy smut #tf2 spy x reader #tf2 spy x you #fanfic #fanfic trope #fanfics #fanfiction #tf2 fanfic #tf2 comics #team fortress fluff #tf2 fluff

[voraciousvore]

Big Corp Inc. (39/43)

***This chapter contains vore!***

Chapter 39: Breaking Point

“Candy, you know you can always talk to me, right?” Martin encouraged, a note of quiet desperation seeping into his tone. “I won’t judge you. You don’t have to hide anything from me.” Work had ended, and the couple was back in Martin’s apartment together, eating dinner. Candy had barely touched her food, only taking small nibbles. Martin had bought her a human-scale dining table and chair that he placed on his own larger table. 

“I know,” Candy mumbled. She avoided Martin’s eyes, poking at her dinner with her doll-sized fork. In her mind’s eye she could only see darkness, hear the horrific sounds of a Giant’s digestion. When she looked at her plate, she recalled being forced into a sandwich, or stuffed into a meatball, or scooped onto an ice cream sundae, or buttered on a biscuit. The memories nauseated her to the point where she couldn’t bear the sight of food, much less ingest it. 

“No matter what, I’ll always be here for you. And I’ll always love you. Whatever is bothering you, we can get through it together.” Martin placed his hands on either side of Candy’s little table and leaned in, holding his face close to her. “Please, Candy. I know something isn’t right. Let me help you.”  

“It’s nothing,” she muttered, barely audible. Candy sank lower into her chair, continuing to avert her gaze. Martin was trying so hard to be empathetic and patient with her, but he was getting frustrated. He didn’t understand why she was hiding secrets from him and trying to conceal her true feelings that were obviously tearing her up inside. He gingerly placed the tip of his finger under her chin and raised her head up, so she couldn’t look away. He brought his face in so close that his enormous eye was right in front of her, seeking to gaze into her soul. 

Candy lost herself in that big, stormy orb. His gigantic iris had depth to it like a gray raincloud. She even fancied she could see flashes of lightning if she looked close enough. His black pupil dilated as he searched her. He blinked. Candy could see so much swirling within that tempest, so much concern and sympathy, even fear. She registered, in some way, that he was scared of losing her. He could see her falling away from him and it caused him agony. Candy struggled to hold back tears, but her vision started to blur with moisture. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Martin. She was keeping him in the dark to protect him, after all.  

She knew, if she told him what Mr. Hardon was doing to her, he’d fly into a rage and beat up the boss, and then he'd really be in trouble. After all, he didn’t hesitate to retaliate against Ronny when he found her shoved into a meatball. He’d definitely lose his job then, since the boss would fire him, and he might even be liable for criminal charges. Candy couldn’t let such a chain of events occur. She couldn’t imagine the horror of Martin being arrested and going to prison, because of his efforts to protect her. 

“Please,” he insisted emphatically. “Is it something I did?” Candy shook her head, rotating her chin on his fingertip. Her eyes were waxing shiny with tears. A droplet overflowed out of one eye and ran down her cheek. “You’re not... scared of me, are you? You don’t feel pressured to be with me? Do you want me to escort you home, to the human side?” His voice was quavering. 

“No,” Candy denied. She couldn’t stop her tears any longer. She wouldn’t be able to tell him everything, but she felt compelled to at least admit the truth about her housing situation. “I... I have no home to go to. I’m homeless.” 

Martin’s jaw dropped open. “What?” Of all the things he considered, he never even suspected she was homeless. He suddenly understood why she never had a lunch packed anymore. His heart bled for her. 

“I lost my apartment because I ran out of human money. I’ve been living in the office. I was sleeping in the janitor closet for a while, until a monster spider attacked me, and now I just sleep on my desk out of sight,” Candy admitted. She burned with shame, but somehow finally confessing her secret to Martin made her feel lighter, less weighed down by her tremendous burden. 

“Oh, Candy... why didn’t you tell me?” Martin cupped her in his hands and lifted her off the table. “No wonder you’ve been so upset! You’re welcome to stay with me as long as you want!” He kissed her and held her up to his chest, hugging her with his hands. “You’re always welcome with me. It’s not like you take up a lot of space.” He laughed, and the sound made her heart sing. 

“I was so worried about you, Candy. I’m glad you finally told me. You don’t need to fret any longer. I will take care of you,” Martin continued. Candy was touched by his generosity. She buried herself in his chest and sobbed without reserve. Martin stroked her back with his thumb, massaging her gently. He was relieved, now that she was finally communicating with him and the truth was out in the open. Now that he could solve her problem that was killing her inside, he hoped she could heal and become her happy self again. 

Despite the fact that she couldn’t tell him about Mr. Hardon, Candy felt better after unloading at least some of her baggage on Martin. Not having to hold back the torrential downpour of tears helped too. Candy was in such a situation where she constantly felt the need to repress her outward displays of emotion, whether she was at work or in Martin’s apartment, which was becoming quite an impossible feat. Thus, to let it all out was therapeutic. Being comforted by her Giant lover made everything better too, at least until she would have to be separated from him. 

Unfortunately, such an event was bound to happen at work the next day, and Candy knew it all too well. When Martin and Candy arrived at work together the following day, Mr. Hardon was hasty to intercept Martin and hand him another thick stack of forms to work on. Martin was none the wiser, not discerning that the tasks were mere busywork intended to distract and divert him away from his girl. Once Martin was out of range, Mr. Hardon returned to Candy’s cubicle with a bloodcurdling leer that churned her stomach. He forcibly ripped her away from her desk and conveyed her into his office, slamming the door behind him.  

He flung her onto his own massive desk and stopped her from escaping by swatting her back to the center with his palm whenever she attempted to dart away. Candy flopped down in misery and defeat. She didn’t know why she even tried to escape anymore: Mr. Hardon knew all her tricks, could easily anticipate her actions, and was a million times bigger and stronger than her. She had yet to successfully get away, not even the first time when she had caught him by surprise. She shriveled up like a raisin and shook. 

“Now, what should I do with you today?” Mr. Hardon rumbled, like an approaching cataclysmic storm. He stared at Candy long and hard, his lips turned up at the corners of his mouth. He was in no hurry, intentionally drawing out the suspense to antagonize his victim. He leaned over Candy, dwarfing her with his mountainous frame. A plaintive whimper escaped her lips as she cowered before him. 

“I must confess I am rather peckish. I had a light breakfast,” Mr. Hardon remarked, rubbing his belly. An audible growl emanated from his midsection, as if his stomach was clamoring in agreement. Candy’s face went ashen. “Then again... I have other needs as well.” His hand kneaded his crotch, and she turned green with revulsion. “Oh, what to do, what to do...” 

He scratched his chin. “On the other hand, maybe I should try something new today. New experiences are always interesting, wouldn’t you say, Candy?” She didn’t know what he had in mind, but the sadistic gleam animating his pale eyes sickened her. 

Candy squirmed with agony. Mr. Hardon hadn’t even started yet, and she already knew without a shade of doubt she wouldn’t be able to take it anymore. She reflected that even Ronny was perceptive enough to plainly see it. He could have used the opportunity he had yesterday to destroy her, but instead he refrained. He recognized that, under the circumstances, finally doing her in would be merciful, and since he hated her, he preferred to let her suffer through the worst tortures. Candy didn’t want to live anymore, if this was how her life was going to be. 

“N-no m-more,” Candy stuttered, failing hard to be assertive. 

“What was that?” Mr. Hardon mocked. “Oh, that’s cute. You think you have a choice in the matter. You can’t defy me, darling, so don’t even try.” 

“I quit,” Candy said, slightly louder this time. 

“You can’t. I’ll fire Martin,” Mr. Hardon retorted. “I’ll have him blacklisted from every company in this town. Big Corp has a lot of influence, you know. He’ll never be able to find a job again. And when he finds out it’s your fault, he’ll blame you and he won’t love you anymore.” 

Candy wavered, but this time even the threat of losing Martin forever wasn’t enough. She had reached her breaking point. She hated the consequences, but she couldn’t protect Martin anymore, and he would resent her when he found out. She wasn’t strong enough to hold everything on her shoulders any longer; she was being crushed under the weight of her hardships. She was giving up. “You can’t hold that over me anymore, Mr. Hardon. I quit. I’m done. And I’m never coming back.”  

She trotted away from Mr. Hardon towards the opposite edge of his desk. If he refused to help her down, she had every intention of jumping off on her own. She was desperate for an out, in whatever way it manifested. Her spirit was shattered beyond repair. When Mr. Hardon comprehended that she was deathly serious about not coming back, his face twisted into a scowl of pure fury. Briefly, he was too stunned to act. He almost couldn’t believe, after all this time and everything that had happened, that he had finally managed to break her. Her fortitude had been remarkable, truly extraordinary, but he supposed everyone had moments of weakness. Before she could make it to the edge of the desk, Mr. Hardon pinched the back of her shirt between his fingers and dragged her back. 

“Let go of me!” Candy protested, wriggling pointlessly as the Giant lifted her up to his eye level. “You can’t keep me here forever!” 

Mr. Hardon gave her a long, hard look. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say any of that. So I won’t give you any sort of extra punishment. But I will give you some time inside my stomach to think it over.” Candy blanched as he handed her the tiny bottle of pills. 

“I’m not taking any more of those stupid pills,” Candy spat defiantly. 

Mr. Hardon raised an eyebrow. “Really now? Because I’m going to eat you whether you take one or not. Is that really how you want to die? To be digested alive?” Without waiting for a response, he dangled Candy above his mouth and opened wide. He lowered her down into his jaws with a dramatically slow movement. 

“No!” Candy squealed, kicking his upper lip as she entered the drooling mouth below. His gullet gaped open below her like an abyss. His rows of gigantic white teeth stretched above her, draping a shadow over her. She tried to cling to the Giant’s fingers to avoid being dropped inside, but he released her onto his wet tongue and the walls of bone slammed shut around her. Candy hastily screwed open the bottle of pills and downed one before the Giant had the chance to swallow her. Above all else, she feared being digested after experiencing the horrors of his gastrointestinal system so many times. She’d rather be killed in one of Ronny’s sick cat-and-mouse games that die from being eaten alive. 

He tossed her around on his tongue a bit, making her drop the pill bottle as it slipped out of her hands. The remaining pills spilled all over the inside of his mouth. Candy shrieked in fear as she slid backwards and down into his gullet. He swallowed, and she slipped down his throat like a slimy vertical slide, fighting back the whole way down before splashing into his belly. 

Mr. Hardon spat out the miniscule pill bottle and the rest of the pills into his hand. He was relieved to see she had managed to take a pill before he swallowed her, because she was useless to him dead. He needed time to think about what he was going to do with her. He hadn’t intended to break his favorite new plaything so soon. He knew, without any doubts, he couldn’t let her leave work now, no matter what, or else she wouldn’t come back. 

He felt a kick in his belly, and smirked to himself. Despite giving up earlier, she hadn’t lost all her fire yet. He could still have so much fun with her. 

Chapter 40

Chapter 1

#g/t vore #gt vore #soft vore #v.ore #vo.re #vor.e #v0re #v0r3 #big corp inc #g/t #giant/tiny #tiny #giant #g/t writing #size difference #g/t fluff #giant tiny #gt writing #vore writing

[robbybirdy]

31. Baking therapy on a budget ft. Genshin Characters: Itto - Blackberry Pie

Hello, every birdy. Today we are making a pie that has been on my list of things to bake for a while now. And the reason why I haven’t made it is very simple, both the price and the quantity we get. But we were blessed with blackberries recently and a lot of them. Enough to make a pie.

Aratiki Itto (Ar-Ra-taki E-toe) the one and oni, is an oni (demon-like) character from Inazuma. He is very loud and slightly childish. His favorite type of food is lollipops. I had thought about making some cake pops or something like that. But, the main thing about this series is the budget part. I didn’t want to buy anything that I would only use once. So I thought long and hard about what recipes I should use for him. I also didn’t want to make my sister made, as he is one of her mains. So I ended up making this pie. And designed the top crust as a lollipop. 

The recipe is from “My Country Table - Homemade Blackberry Pie.” Feel free to check out the link down below. 

I just want to explain something before we get going with this recipe. I understand that some of these recipes wouldn’t be technically “budget friendly” but we are not spending any money on these expensive ingredients. The explanation of this is simple, we have a food pantry in our community two times a month. And we try to make dinner and desserts from the things that we get from the truck. 

People shouldn’t be ashamed of getting things from food pantries. They are there so that nobody goes hungry. Especially during this time of inflation. Trying to feed 7 adults on a budget gets rather tight. So the truck helps. 

I liked this recipe because of how simple it was and honestly when I am looking around on the internet and in cookbooks I am looking for recipes which I have all of the ingredients for.

The first thing you are going to do is prepare your pie crust, fill free to skip if you already have a pie crust.

If you want to make your own pie crust it is very simple. This recipe will be enough for both the top crust and the bottom crust. The link to this recipe will also be down below. 

You will need

Flour 

Salt

Shortening

Ice water

In a large bowl you are going to measure out the flour and the salt. Cut in the shortening with a pastry blender or two forks. Add your ice water 1 tablespoon at a time, until the dough clumps  together and is not too moist. 

Place your dough on a floured surface and divide it equally in half. Wrap one of the halves in plastic wrap and put it in the freezer or fridge until you are ready to use it. 

For the other half, what I did was divided it into 3rds. One of the thirds I didn’t color. The other two I colored with food gel. One of them was orange and the other was purple. I wrap each of those in plastic wrap and put them in the freezer until I was ready. 

Now onto  the pie filling, you will need:

Blackberries

Sugar, divided

Cornstarch

The first thing you want to do is preheat your oven to 350 F. 

In a large pan you are going to mix together  your blackberries and one cup of sugar. 

Let them set for about 15 minutes and if there is any juice, you will want to drain most of it. 

Add in the rest of the sugar and the cornstarch to the blackberries. 

Once the cornstarch is mixed in with the blackberries you are going to place your pan on medium heat and bring it to a boil. Making sure that you stir it constantly. The reason you want to stir constantly is because you do not want to scorch the bottom of your pan. 

Once the mixture is boiling, you will continue to stir for another two minutes. Or until the mixture has slightly thickened. Remove it from the heat, and feel free to taste test it at this point to see if you need to add any more sugar to it. 

Let the mixture cool off of the heat for about 5 minutes, or until you are done with the pie crust. 

Take your pie crusts out of the freezer or the fridge, and roll them out. The bottom crust will be just a basic bottom crust. Nothing too fancy. 

I made my top crust before putting my pie filling in and it seemed like it helped me. 

I rolled out both of the colors to be the same shape. And I shaped it into a lollipop, alternating the colors between orange and purple. Until I didn’t have any more left. I did have more pie crust left, so I used that to make a bow and a stem for the lollipop. 

In order to help your future self, you will want to place your pan on a cookie sheet so that it can capture any spillage. 

You are going to bake your pie for 50 minutes or until it the golden brown is on top. 

Let it cool completely before slicing. 

I was honestly so happy about how this pie turned out. I have never made a blackberry pie before because of the cost and the number of blackberries that we have had in the past. I this was on my list of things that I wanted to make. And I am so happy that I was able to do it. 

I hope that you like these recipes. Feel free to check it out for yourselves. See you in the next recipe. 

Pinterest: Here

Recipe: here

#ts3 #simblr #ts3 simblr #baking #baking therapy #recipe #food #Genshin Impact #genshin impact #Itto #ataraki itto

[dontletmanagementfindme]

i forgot if i already sent one but if not!!:

🍛 CURRY AND RICE — what does your oc's typical dinner look like? do they usually eat dinner? (for any of your ocs!!)

Lolol it's fine! Thank you for another ask

(* ^ ω ^)

Aries - has a bad habit of going periods of time eating at inconsistent times, or not eating at all. This usually occurs when they're extremely busy/stressed/in a bad mental state. Otherwise, a typical dinner for them consists of a lot of protein and vegetables/fruit. It's less about what it is and more about if it tastes good and will help them maintain their figure.

Jesse - a typical dinner for him is frozen food or a sandwich, maybe cereal. His parents work late and he's busy with his own schoolwork and extracurriculars. Too tired to cook and doesn't know how.

Brooke - she doesn't need to eat! Being a porcelain doll brought to life with magic has its advantages! (I've heard that smoke helps keep gears from rusting, and oil would also help with that, too. Perhaps Brooke might open a pack of cigarettes for dinner 👀)

Adam - he eats a whole lot!!! Shape shifting/ basically having an ever-changing body composition consumes a lot of energy! A typical dinner for Adam is whatever he can get his hands on. Whether that means rummaging for food in a hookup's fridge, raiding Aries' pantry, or forking over what little money he makes from his part time jobs for a burger and some fries.

Corlen - bugs. I won't speak more.

Dakota - he's a growing boy give him sustenance!!! Unfortunately doesn't have much of an appetite due to stress, but he does his best to eat three meals a day! He's learning to cook now that he has to live with Corlen in hiding, so it's either a new recipe made with limited ingredients and leftovers 💪 (Cor doesn't eat any of it tho :<)

Sunny - a typical dinner for her is eating out somewhere mildly fancy, but her jobs allow for it so it's fine! Cooks for herself otherwise, too ✨💪

Amora - a typical dinner for her is eating alone >:(( she readies all her meals at the beginning of the week. She eats rather little, her appetite is small, and she prefers those quaint, light filling foods. She seems like the type to like La Madeleine's.

#pápia 🦆💖 #ram responds

[sugar-vi421]

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 | 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘫𝘰𝘩𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯

Prologue.

tw: nothing yet.

A LATE EVENING DINNER

My Parents insisted on bringing me to a fancy place to spend some time together talking about our lives and what's been going on. I loved going out to restaurant's- God just the food...but with my parent sit was a different story, you'll see.

I was sitting across from the two while they handed the menus off to the waiter waiting for them to say something first.

Did I forget to mention that I haven't seen them since they sent me out to college? That was when I was 18. I'm 26 now.

"So, tell me what has my precious daugther been up to these last few years?" Mom asked grabbing her glass of expensive red wine taking a sip eyeing me down while I try to come up with the right words to tell her.

Meanwhile my father has just been sitting there looking at his phone not paying any mind to us.

"Well, Recently I've gotten a new job" I lifted my glass of water to my lips looking into the glass as her face lights up with a smile.

"That's wonderful! Isn't it James?" Mom looks over to her side looking at dad, but he was still stuck on the phone.

She tapped his shoulder while saying his name again to get his attention and he looked up at her putting away the phone quickly into his suit jacket agreeing with my mom even though he had no idea what she was talking about.

She rolled her eyes and focused back on me- "Now, did you get a nice office? You at least need to be comfortable in your new workplace as a lawyer!"

This is what I was talking about when I said it was a different story...

God here comes the judgmental looks.

"Mom I'm not a lawyer, I work for the FBI as a Criminal Behavior Analyst." I said clearing my throat fidgeting with my hands looking back and forth between her and my fingers as I wait for her dramatic reaction.

She's never approved of my interests, I grew up on crime podcasts and documentaries while my older sister jenny went to med school and became a doctor like my parents wanted her too, they also wanted that for me but after I rejected it the first few times, they had just assumed I wanted to be a lawyer instead.

Yeah, me being a lawyer was not happening, I had to deal with enough from my rich egotistical parents and I was and still am not up for dealing with a random client's attitude because they gave all their money to an ex-girlfriend.

It just wasn't for me, but they wouldn't understand that.

Her smile dropped immediately, and she just stared at me for a moment giving me a disappointed look, she put her wine glass down and sighed- "Luci, you know that wasn't the career choice we had in mind for you."  

Dad decided to also cut in adding "We have never judged you for your hobbies Lucinda but really? You can't be serious!" He whispered to avoid causing a scene.

"Yeah, never judged at all" I muttered, taking another sip of my water. So, the multiple times you've told me to stop listening to those "stupid videos" telling me it's a waste of time must've never happened?

In his eyes I must be crazy to go against what they claim to be "my real future" so I can keep the family successful and full of doctors, lawyers and accountants.

While dad keeps trying to change my mind, Mom sits there with her thoughts probably thinking on ways she could still get me to be a lawyer and possibly make me quit my job even though I haven't even worked a single night yet.

She stops my dad from telling me whatever nonsense he was saying that I wasn't even paying any attention to and says "Fine. You don't want to be a lawyer? That's okay." I just stop doing whatever I was doing and shoot her a confused look.

The waiter finally arrives with the food and places our dishes Infront of us, she waits for him to leave to speak up again.

"You want to work there then you're going to be working in a town where I have eyes and ears." She says as she grabs the knife and fork on the side to cut into her steak.

"Excuse me?"-

"You're an adult I know, but I want you to be safe. I want you to take your grandmothers house in Roseville. Since Grandma Millie has passed, I think you should have the house, you were always her favorite anyways..." She takes a bite of the meat on her fork, and I just smile to myself.

Well, that wasn't expected.

My grandma was the best. She always supported me and my interest...I was glad to live in that house. I always loved visiting her when she was there anyways, so this was a positive thing.

I'm still a bit worried about why she's not being unsupportive and furious about this but I'm just going to take it as a win for today and not question it, so she doesn't change her mind.

I smile at her.

"Thank you, mom."

"Don't mention it sweetheart."

After we all finish dinner and my dad pays for the bill, my mom tells me to drive up to the house in the morning and to pack my things tonight, it wasn't so late so I agreed. I said goodbye to them at the restaurant and left.

The drive home wasn't so long, and surprisingly the roads were empty which I was so thankful for because I did not want to sit there for 2 hours waiting on a busy highway.

I got home around 8pm and decided to just get started packing.

-

I opened the front door, dropping my keys in a basket on the side table and started taking off my jacket as I walked over to my room, I put my jacket on my desk chair and sat down. First, I just needed to email my employer about the location change.

"Hey I wanted to notify you that I will be taking a position in Roseville instead of here in the city, I hope you don't mind the sudden change, if anything ill be willing to talk about it.

Thank you."

-Lucinda Sidney Williams

I hit send and sigh, leaning back into my chair closing my eyes for a moment. Tomorrow I'm going to move into the house and start my first shift at my new job after a few nights.

It shouldn't be too bad right?

Whenever I visited Roseville, it was always a nice and safe place, I never really paid any attention to any crimes that had happen over there because I was a little kid, and my focus was spending time with Grandma Millie.

Even if anything did happen to us, she would always be there to protect me and my sister.

At least I won't have to deal with any case that's too crazy, living in Roseville will just be like old times.

What's the worse that could happen in a town like Roseville?

-an

AHH I'm so excited to start this book, and I know this doesn't even have a mention of the killer you all came for but just realize this is the introduction, and please tell me if this sucks or not I need feedback or I'm gonna keep unknowingly writing a terrible book that non of you enjoy. :(

also 1209 words is pretty short so I might work on longer chapters.

TAG LIST :

@infinitewhore @mama-miya @m4gn3ziu @sleepyashe

note to be tagged again <3

#dbd ghostface #dbd killer #dbd #dbd fanfic #ghostface #ghostface x you #ghostface x reader #ghostface x y/n #fanfic #horror fanfic #horror #ghostfacefic

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Another chapter

"Your praxis should look like a struggle. You should struggle with the world, and not with each other."

"Okay, but how do you have the gall to say this and not be able to deliver on it?"

"Just stop asking me to deliver on things you couldn't deliver on."

I stare out my hotel window. I used to like this neighborhood. It wasn't so bad, as neighborhoods go.

A few years ago, it was the one place that I could afford. I could afford to go to the movies and get some good food and spend an evening watching them instead of just passing the time at home. Or I could get a beer, because the nearest supermarket was a five-minute walk away.

A few years ago, I was able to eat here. It was pretty good, as neighborhoods go.

But, now, all these places -- all of them -- are as expensive as they are because of the real estate bubble. They'll be gone, the places I used to know, or they'll be changed beyond recognition in the next few years. They'll never be able to recover from what we did here.

The city is a mess. It's the kind of mess people like the ones who own houses here would never, ever be able to fix. They can't even do that part of the job right. How are they going to fix the city?

And there are new people around now. Lots of them. They're the sort of people you're not supposed to associate with, the kind who're not supposed to be here. The sort who look a little bit -- look like a little bit -- like one of the things they're not supposed to be. I don't know how to describe it.

It doesn't matter. It was a nice place once. It didn't have to change into this.

Why don't you want to tell me what happened? Why don't you even want to be near me? Why are you making me feel scared?

The door is still closed. She's not going to answer me, either. She would have answered. I know she would have answered. So I'm going to tell you myself. The world is bigger than anyone knows, and bigger than anyone knows -- but maybe the world is bigger than anyone can know.

When I was eleven, my parents took me out to dinner at a fancy place downtown. The fancy place was called the Bazaar, and it was one of the only restaurants in town I could find. The food there was all just good, and I liked to go when we had some extra money.

When we sat down for dinner, we were seated in the room that was set aside for people with kids, so I could watch television or eat or just -- read, or do whatever. I wanted to sit next to the TV. I wanted to watch television. I wanted to look at the other people in that room. I wanted to be in that place.

We were the only people in that room. I had not been there alone before. I had been alone before, but it had not felt so bad as being alone in that room, where the rest of the people had a purpose.

And that evening, as I was trying to decide between food and television, I was able to see a woman. It was a little unusual. She was not one of the usual crowd at the place, not the type of woman who frequented the place. I knew she was one of the sorts of woman who frequented the place, because she had come through the door before. She had been alone, and alone with a child, and she had sat down in the room next to ours -- the TV room, the room with the books -- and when the waiter brought her food, she hadn't picked up the fork or the bowl she was given.

Then she turned to look at me. She looked at my face and seemed not to recognize it. She looked at it and she looked at me and she sat down and we ate dinner in silence. I could see it on her face, the realization. She wasn't used to this, this thing in that room, the thing where, in that room, she wasn't supposed to eat alone.

And when we were through, when we were done, when I got up to go pay, she did something that no one would have done unless they were used to the world I grew up in.

The woman gave me a dollar. It was an odd gesture. She had given the waiter a dollar.

I couldn't help it -- I knew what she was about to ask, and I knew why I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to hear because --

Because I had been through something like that.

When I was eleven, I got lost in a park. It was the park that was in the wrong neighborhood, the one that looked as if it was more of a residential neighborhood than a community park. But I had walked through those streets, because I had to go somewhere. It's not a secret.

And I didn't recognize the streets. I'm sure I was lost. The street signs hadn't been replaced. The street signs were all wrong. I didn't know what streets I was on -- but then I found the park, even though there was no park where I thought there should have been one. There was a basketball court with a net in the middle, where a playground would have been.

I didn't see it as a bad thing -- not at first -- because the park was empty. It was an empty park, at night, in the city, at the wrong end of the wrong neighborhood. It looked a little like a park that you'd find in the wrong neighborhood, like a park that the wrong kids had played in.

And it was a good thing. Not because of what I saw there, at night, in the city.

It was a good thing because... because it was empty.

Because it was empty at night, even though it wasn't a safe place to be. Because I could go there, in the middle of the night, even though no one else was around, and maybe I would be alone. I could go there, on my own.

They called it a safe place. They called it a playground. They called it a park.

I'm going to be honest -- that's where I was after I was through with my parents. That's where I went, when they left me alone. I didn't go to a park because it was my park, the place I had been to. I went there because it was safe. Because it was safe on my own.

If you've read the part about my parents that I started here, I suppose you'll understand what I was like at that time. My parents loved me, I think, even at that time. They were good people, the kind of people who wanted to be in that place with me -- the place where I was alone, but where they were still around.

But I was more and more not one of those things. I was a boy, and I was eleven, and they were still around. And I grew up, and I grew more and more away.

And the places that weren't safe became my places. Not the place I grew up with. Not the place where I always went. The places that I didn't want anyone to ever see, where I wanted to be alone with the world -- the parks, the empty playgrounds, the places where I felt like I could go at night and just be with the world.

I wanted to be free, or -- and I think this is a good way of putting it -- free with the world. And I wanted to feel like my parents were still there, the way I could still feel like I was with my friends, though the world I was with them was much larger than the world I was in when I had friends.

There are places, in that city, that are like that, now. I go there. I am always there. I can't see all of it at once. I can't see it fully. But I can't not see it, either. It's there.

The part in my parents' lives that was taken from them, they have found something new. The part that was never there, they will never find. And it'll be hard, because they've been waiting for the thing for a long time. And because, of all the things they will never see, this one is the thing they will never find.

And I'll do what I do. I'll take the small thing that they don't want me to do, and I'll keep it. It'll be safe. Not in that world, but in the world I know, and the world I live in, even after they're gone.

But that's another story, too, and not one that I can tell right now.

"Why don't you tell me what happened? Why don't you even want to be near me? Why are you making me feel scared? Why won't you answer me?"

#original fiction