#i need to leave before it becomes a fucking police state

[youaremysunshine-court]

You know your country's turning into a dictatorship when you want to write about the recent shit your prime ministers been up to but you're scared you'll disappear yhe way so many journalists have done in the past 5 years he's been in power

#whoops thats not free speech is it #hed love to get rid of people like me who see through his bullshit and have the ability to call him on it #only im fucking scared bc of the number of 'suicides' that have happened after someones brought attention to it #oh yeah this country doesnt care about religion but were going to make it so hard for christians and muslims #oh yeah this country has a lot of politics but most of your politicians will revere hitler #oh politicians serve the people but they have the most black money in the country #oh free speech is a human right but speak too freely and youll disappear #i need to leave before it becomes a fucking police state #although police are so useless here if it was a police state theyd just stand around drinking tea #a police state in this country would just be an eternal lunch break #no it would turn into a dictatorship which is honestly worse #bc itll be a very belarusian dictatorship where the working class is happy and its not unstable but therell still be complete control #over all the citizens #anyway #fuck this #im just angry ig #whatever this too shall pass whatever im gonna do my best to not get caught up in all this shit #its fine ill be fine but yk i cant say any of this out loud or ill disappear but its fine #bit depressing tbh #idk man im not a revolutionary im just gonna focus on making it thru college pfft

[absurdthirst]

Dieter's Daughter {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.7k

Warnings: Dad!Dieter, mentions of drug use, unplanned pregnancies, freaking out, mentions of foster care, anxiety, lactation kink, babies, domestic bliss, falling in love, sudden marriage proposals, Dieter being a sap, adult breast feeding, oral sex (female receiving), face riding, vaginal sex, pregnancy

Comments: When a baby is dropped off on Dieter's doorstep, he is completely out of his element and doesn't know what to do. Attending a single mother support group meeting, he finds you. Begging you to become a nanny to his daughter.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| 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.

It takes several minutes for the sounds of the doorbell peeling insistently to break through Dieter’s nearly catatonic state. Too much booze and too many pills are the result of another day of discontent and wishing that there was something other than numbness of life for him. Leaving him grumbling when one eye pops open and he groans when the cotton mouth and headache hits him. “Go away.” He huffs, knowing that there is no way that whoever is at the damn door would hear him all the way in his bedroom. Hell, the only reason he hears the doorbell is because it’s wired to the sound system in the house. Again the bell rings and like the dead rising from the grave, Dieter drags himself out of the safety and comfort of his bed. “Fuck! I’m coming! I’m coming!” The bathrobe he had tossed down last night is put over his boxers and he shuffles towards the stairs as fast as his lethargic body can go.

When Dieter opens the door, he’s shocked to see a woman standing there holding a baby. “Can I help you?” He asks, rubbing his eyes, and she snorts.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” She asks and Dieter squints, “am I supposed to?” 

She laughs humorlessly, “I shouldn’t be surprised, you could barely remember my name that night. I was just amazed that a big actor wanted to fuck me. Remember me? That cocktail waitress from the club you took home about ten months ago?” She says and Dieter scratches his neck. 

“Listen lady, I sleep with a lot of people. It’s hard to remember them all.” He admits with zero qualms. 

“Wow. You’re a fucking asshole. Anyway, I guess the condom broke because congrats, you’re a daddy. It’s a girl. Her name is Rosie. Her birth certificate is in the bag.” She holds the baby out towards him and his eyes widen, looking down at the baby bag in the ground.

”What? I- what the fuck?” He looks bewildered before he starts to laugh. “Good one. Real funny. What do you want? Money?” He scoffs and she shakes her head, tears in her eyes. 

“No. No. I need you to take her. I can’t afford her and I- I didn’t want her. When I found out - I was fucking eight months pregnant so it was too late to get rid of her and I can’t work so I can’t pay for my place. I can’t keep her. You gotta take her. She will be better off with you.” She says and pushes the baby into Dieter’s arms. 

He scrambles to hold the baby, not wanting to drop her and the woman immediately sprints off towards her car. “Hey! Wait! You can’t just- I don’t know how to look after a baby! I need you to - hey. Where the fuck- get back here!” He yells as she squeals off of his driveway and he curses himself for not fixing the gate yet. “Shit.” He hisses. He didn’t even get her name. Looking down at the baby, he sighs and knows he has to find her mom. He can’t be a daddy. He can barely look after himself. 

No, first thing is a damn DNA test and then he’s gonna find that bitch and give her back her baby. He’s gotta call the police after he cleans up his counters from the coke powder. “Fuckkkkk.” He groans, knowing his quiet day just got a whole lot busier.

****

“If we take her, Mr. Bravo, she’s just going to go into a state home. An orphanage.” Dieter frowns and wraps his arms around his chest, nervous for having the fucking cops in his house. Paranoid they were going to find the baggie of Coke he just remembered was in the little box next to his car keys. “You are listed on the birth certificate.” 

Snatching the paper from the officer he squints at it. “How the fuck is that legal?” He demands. “That means anyone could put me down as the father of their kid.” 

The officer shuffles, clearly uncomfortable and slightly in awe of being in the actor’s presence. “That’s for the courts to decide. Look,” he lowers his voice and looks around. “I don’t think you understand how bad the system is for babies.” He tells Dieter seriously. “Just- keep the baby with you, at least until the DNA tests come back. That way you don’t have to fight to get her back when she is yours. You already said you might have slept with this woman. Stranger things have happened.” 

Dieter huffs, upset by the idea of the tiny little human being in an orphanage. Even if she doesn’t look anything like him. He had found diapers and a can of formula in the bag that the mother had left with him but that’s it. He has nothing to take care of a child. “What am I supposed to do? I don’t know shit about kids.” He demands, making the officer chuckle. 

“Hire a nanny.” The officer suggests, smirking. “Isn’t that what you Hollywood types do?”

Dieter knows he can’t just ship the kid off. She’s so tiny and vulnerable. He can’t do it, even he’s not that big of an asshole. He will call his assistant to get a nanny in today. “Listen, do you, uh, know how much formula to use?” He asks the cop who nods and walks over to the counter to show Dieter. 

“One scoop for every two ounces of water. Get baby water but bottled will have to work for today. So four ounces, two scoops. And shake. After she is finished, shift her to your shoulder and gently pat her back to get her to burp.” He says and Dieter nods. 

“How much does she need?” Dieter asks and the cop chuckles, “she’s gonna be hungry a lot. I remember mine at that age. Endless bottles. Be sure to wash them thoroughly.” He says and pats Dieter on the shoulder and makes his way towards the front door of the Sherman Oaks mansion.

“Fuck.” Dieter groans, rubbing his cheek when the police leave and the baby starts to cry. He knows she must be hungry so he fumbles to open the container, grabbing the bottle to fill it with bottled water and putting two scoops in. “I’m coming.” He says, struggling to do the bottle up, and he curses again as he walks over to carefully scoop the baby up. “How do I-?” He struggles to get her to suck on the bottle and sighs in relief when she stops wailing and gulps down the milk.

Dieter holds the baby awkwardly, trying to remember how from that role a few years ago. The baby had been a prop doll, but they had shown him how to hold it. “Your name’s Rosie, huh?” He asks, looking down at the infant. According to the birth certificate, she’s only two months old. “I’m Dieter, but you don’t talk so why am I telling you that?” He huffs, but the baby gurgles around the nipple of the bottle and it makes him grin. “Did you like that?” He asks, lifting a brow. Apparently he’s a natural with kids. 

The baby grunts and the grin immediately slides into a frown. “What’s that?” He asks, feeling something moving. “What are you doing?” Instead of sucking down the milk, the baby is grunting and straining and Dieter stares in horror as the smell starts to reach his nose. “Oh shit! You shit!” He groans in disgust.

The baby starts to cry, unhappy with a full diaper, and Dieter is reaching for his phone. 

“Hello?” His assistant answers and Dieter is panicking. 

“I need you here right now. I need help.” 

Johan, his assistant, frowns, “is that- is that a baby?” He asks and Dieter groans, “get here now. And call a nanny service!” He demands and hangs up. “What do I do?” He asks the baby, shifting to lay her down on a towel so she doesn’t get shit on his expensive rug. “I- shit. You - fuck. That’s disgusting.” He groans and pulls his phone out. “YouTube! I’ll try YouTube.” He looks up ‘how to change a diaper’ and grabs the baby bag.

Dieter watches the video, studying it intently as he keeps a hand on the baby’s stomach. “Looks easy.” He frowns at the squirming baby. “But the doll wasn’t moving.” He sets the phone down beside the bag so he can see it and bites his lip as he tries to figure out the snaps on the onesie she’s in. “Holy shit.” He huffs, amazed at how easy it unsnaps. “I need this in a fucking adult version.” Wrinkling his nose when the smell gets even worse, he groans. “Wheeeeew, God you stink.” He nearly gags and pulls his shirt up over his nose. “What did you eat?”

Trying to plug his nose, he follows the YouTube video, wiping the poop off of her skin after rolling up the dirty diaper and putting it in the diaper bag. Anyone watching would think Dieter is dealing with a bomb. He gags when he pushes the wipes into the bag after cleaning her up and he grabs the rash cream, placing some on her bottom where the video details he should. He curses the new diaper, trying to figure out what way is the front until he sees it says “back” on it and he pulls it tight on her tiny body before he clips her onesies back into place. “Shit. That - that wasn’t too bad.” He murmurs, breathing in the fresh air and she hiccups, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“You’re kind of cute.” Dieter murmurs. “In a weird, ‘you don’t look like me’ kind of way.” He frowns when she grins at him, kicking her feet. “You’re weird.” He huffs, but she just waves her arms at him and squeals. Is she his? After all this time, did he finally fuck up and procreate? His mind spins and he wishes he remembers what the woman looks like better than he does but it had been early (for him) and he had just woken up. “We will have to find you someone who knows what they are doing kiddo.”

**** 

“What did you do?” Johan accuses Dieter who shakes his head, holding the baby in his arms and he looks at her, unable to deny that she looks a little like Dieter. 

“I don’t know man. Some woman, I- Jesus. She said I fucked her and don’t even remember her. I’m waiting for the nurse to come for the DNA test.” Dieter confesses, knowing he has to be sure before he does anything.

“Oh my God, Dieter.” She rolls her eyes and immediately steps closer to the baby, unable to resist seeing her up close. “This is why you said you needed a nanny?” 

Dieter nods and rocks his body as the baby’s eyes start to drift closed. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” He huff, looking around the house that is definitely not baby proof. “I don’t have anything. I need-” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what the fuck I need. More diapers? That formula?” He nods towards the diaper bag. “She didn’t leave me shit for this baby.” He growls, pissed off at the poor planning of that woman. Who just abandons their baby with someone they didn’t know? 

“Let me make a list and we can get what we need for her.” Johan says, knowing Dieter will not know anything that he will need. 

“I need help. And stuff. Like now.” Dieter says, feeling the need to use but he can’t since he’s responsible for a fucking baby now.

Johan nods and bites his lip. “I’ve got a call into a nanny service. They are going to send someone over today.” He knows Dieter will be relieved. “Maybe she can help us with what we need.”

“Let’s get her. I need help. I- shit. I don’t even have a crib or anything. I need you to go out. Take my card and get all the baby shit from the best store there is in town.” He orders, wanting the baby to have the best even if she isn’t his. She’s cute and she deserves a good start in this world. “I need - shit - I have no idea what I’m doing. Please help me.” Dieter begs, the baby falling asleep against his chest and he looks down at her, her lips pouting as she sucks on the pacifier he found in the bag.

Johan grimaces and nods, aware that he has even less experience with babies than Dieter does. “I’ll be back.” The other man promises, quickly making his way towards the door and out of the house. He had no clue what the hell to do for his boss, he’s gotten himself in a mess this time. As much as he wants to claim he doesn’t know that baby is his, it is. Dieter Bravo is a father.

****

“It’s nice to meet you. I’ve always been such a fan of your work.” The woman gushes. Dieter can barely remember her name. Violet, Vivian, or something like that. She seems nice enough and her qualifications from the service are good. He doesn’t really know what he’s looking for in a nanny except he desperately needs help. He’s waiting on the DNA results to come in but the little baby is cute and she listens to him rambling without complaints.

Viola looks around the house and wonders how the hell Dieter Bravo became an overnight father. “You must attend parenting classes.” She insists after Dieter finally runs out of steam and shuts up. “There is one I can sign you up for. It’s for new parents and you qualify.” She chuckles, shaking her head. “They have a meeting in two days, I can see about getting you halfway set up.

“What? No. I don’t need a parenting group.” Dieter scoffs and Viola raises her eyebrows. 

“Respectful sir, I think you do.” She offers him a wry smile when the baby starts to cry in his arms. 

“I’m hopeless, aren’t I?” He sighs, trying to rock Rosie and he is struggling to calm her. 

“Here. Can I-?” Viola asks and Dieter practically shoves the baby into her arms. 

“You’re hired.” He declares when Rosie calms down and the crying stops. He can’t do this alone.

“Mr. Bravo,” Viola frowns and shakes her head. “I’m sorry if you misunderstood. I am here temporarily.” She explains. “I have already signed a contract with another family. I came today because it was an emergency.” She wonders if he had heard anything she had said when she arrived, he had looked frazzled but she thought she had been clear. 

“What? No! You seem like such a nice lady and Rosie likes you. Please. I’ll pay more. I’ll do anything to get you to stay.” He pleads, “name your price. I’ll fucking pay it. Please!” He pouts, eyes wide and pleading. 

Viola shakes her head, “I’m so sorry. I can’t get out of the contract. I’ll help you as much as I can. Johan said you need help learning the basics so I’ll show you the basics and take care of Rosie while I can but you’re going to have to learn what to do.” She says, knowing it’s going to be tough.

“I can’t do this.” Dieter wails, knowing life as he knows it is over. Without someone here, he going to fuck it up. “Please, please, you have to stay.” He begs, making Viola shake her head. 

“I am here for one week, Mr. Bravo. Then it will be up to you to find someone to help you care for Rosie. Now, let me show you how to bathe your daughter.”

****

“She’s yours.” Dieter exhales shakily as Johan announces the DNA results. 

“Shit. I- I have a daughter.” He shakes his head and looks over at Rosie who is asleep in her bassinet. “What am I gonna do?” Dieter asks as reality sets in. He has a child that he’s responsible for and Viola is only here for two more days. “She’s - she’s so tiny and I’m gonna fuck it up. She’s gonna get fucked up because of me.” He starts to panic now that reality has hit.

“You are going to go to the parenting class tonight and we are going to continue to look for a nanny.” Johan tells Dieter practically. He’s been surprised that Dieter hasn’t done as many drugs as he normally does, even smoking weed outside because of the baby. “So far all the services I’ve called don’t have anyone available until next year.” He shakes his head. “Apparently it was baby season this year.”

Dieter groans, covering his face with his hands and dragging them down his cheeks. “I have pre-production for the movie coming up in a few weeks. I can’t take her with me to a table read.” He whines and Rosie shifts in her sleep, making Dieter’s heart melt when the movement catches his attention and he looks over. “Fine. I’ll go to the parenting class. Maybe…maybe someone can help me find a nanny there.” He says, determined to find help. 

****

Dieter walks into the church hall, surprised he hasn’t burst into flames. He hasn’t been to church since he was a kid. His mama used to drag him on a Sunday and when he became famous at ten years old, he managed to bail on church because he was working. He sits down in a seat, noticing how all the other attendees are women. Rosie is asleep in her carrier for now and he has the diaper bag at his feet. “Welcome ladies and - oh. Hi, we have a new member.” An older woman smiles at Dieter, “welcome to the single mom support group.”

“Oh, uh, I thought it was-“ Dieter falters for a moment, panicking about being kicked out of the group. “I thought this was a single parent support group.” He explains, shuffling. “I just- uh, the mother of the child- my child- I just got the DNA test back, dropped her off on my door with no warning.” He rambles, trying to explain why he needs to stay. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” He confesses, nearly sounding defeated.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You can stay.” A few of the moms recognize Dieter and he looks exhausted. Rosie had kept him up half of the night since Viola has been weaning him off of her help, and he glances around. 

“I’m sorry to - shit. I can go.” He says and you are sitting next to him. 

“No, stay. It’s okay. We are all here to help each other.” Your own son, three months old, is whining and you sigh, pulling your tank top down and unclipping your bra to breastfeed him.

Dieter’s eyes widen at the sight of your breast and he can’t deny his cock twitches a little at the idea of drinking down some milk. Shit, when did that kink happen? “I appreciate it. I have no clue what I’m doing.” He admits again and all the women laugh, “none of us do. It’s instinct and a lot of books.” One giggles, “and Google.”

“I didn’t even know.” Dieter moans, shaking his head. “It was- it was a one night stand.” He feels bad about that, not even able to tell Rosie about his relationship with her mom when she gets older. “I’m trying to hire a nanny but all of them are booked up.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to fuck her up. She’s so tiny. Two months old.”

“What’s her name?” You ask him, looking at the little girl asleep in her carrier. 

“Rosie.” He says with a soft smile, it’s hard to not love the little girl now that he knows she’s his. He wants the best for her, even if she’s stuck with a manic mess like him. “This is Oliver.” You gesture to the baby now asleep on your breast.

Dieter smiles and tries not to notice the grunting sounds the kid is making. Feeling guilty because he knows that he would be making the exact same sounds the kid is if he was sucking down milk from your tit. “That’s nice.” He offers. 

“So what is your name?” The woman in charge smiles fondly at him and he’s surprised no one recognizes him. 

“Uh, Dieter.” He offers, curling his shoulders slightly. “Dieter Bravo.”

“Welcome Dieter.” Several of the women say to him with a smile. 

“So do you have any questions?” Julia, the group leader asks. 

“Where the fuck do I begin?” He replies dramatically, making all the women chuckle. 

“Well, we are here to help each other so might as well start.”

“So my first question. So is their shit always gonna be that black color?” Dieter shakes his head, making a face as he remembers the last diaper he had changed. 

All the women laugh. “No that won’t last for much longer since she’s three months old.” 

Dieter rolls his eyes gratefully. “Oh thank God.” He chuckles. Looking over at you again. “You said your son is two months old? Is he sleeping all night? Is that something that she has to get used to?”

You shake your head, “he isn’t sleeping through the night yet. I breastfeed so he wakes me up every couple of hours. It takes a while for them to sleep through the night. Like six months or so. Have you read any baby books?” You ask and he shakes his head. “Oh you must read - you know what. I’ll send you a list. What’s your number?” You ask and the women all giggle, making you fluster. “I mean, to help. We have babies close in age. It’s good to have help.”

“Do you need a job?” Dieter blurts out, wondering why he hadn’t thought of it before. “I mean- if your husband doesn’t mind.” He corrects himself, forgetting it was a single mother’s group. “I'm just- I’ve got to start pre-production on the next movie and it’s going to be crazy and you seem like you’re perfect. You handle your baby so easily.” His eyes are wide and pleading, begging you to say yes.

Your eyes widen, "I- um, oh wow. A job?" 

The other women all nod, telling Dieter about your history as a teacher and how you know CPR. You fluster, knowing you need a job. Your maternity leave ended two weeks ago and instead of letting you come back to work, your job had fired you. Between losing your job and your landlord chasing you up on rent, you know this is too good to turn down. "I'm not married and um, what job do you have in mind?"

“Nanny.” He jumps immediately on your question. Knowing that it’s not a ‘no’. “I’ll pay you really well and you can- can you live there? I mean, I can have odd hours and you can stay at my place. You and Oliver.” He makes sure to include your son. “I have a big house. In Sherman Oaks.” As if that would sweeten the deal. “Help me with Rosie and teach me how to be a dad. How to look after her. I don’t expect you to do it all.” He clarifies, having already gotten used to the idea of being a ‘girl dad’. He’s watched a few Tik Toks about it and it looks cool.

You know it sounds too good to be true. A job and a place to live with your son. “I think we need to sit down and talk this through properly. You don’t even know me. Don’t you wanna do a background check?” You ask, knowing you’d be doing that if you were hiring someone to live in your house. “We have a lot to discuss.” You bite your lip and look around the room to see the other moms nodding to encourage you.

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dieter nods seriously. “My agent will have that done. Plus the NDA you would have to sign.” He’s grateful you are even thinking about it. “But don’t worry. Most of the tabloid stuff is bullshit. I’m not that bad.” He promises with a quick, charming grin. “We can hammer out the details after this, right?”

“Uh, sure.” You nod and Dieter winks at you before turning back to the women, their own babies in their arms and you know this is too good an opportunity to turn down. “You wanna go get a coffee?” You ask Dieter after Oliver is in his stroller and you look at Rosie who is still asleep, unaware of her father trying to hire her a new nanny. 

“As long as it’s quiet.” He says and you frown, “uh, sure. You said you are going into pre-production so does that mean you are an actor?” You ask, unaware of if he’s famous.

Dieter stares at you for a moment, wondering if you are just trying to play coy but you are just looking at him curiously. “Yeah, uh, I am.” He admits, finding it refreshing that someone on this planet doesn’t know who he is or have any expectations of him. “I normally do two or three movies a year, depending on how long they take to film or whatever.” He struggles with the carrier and the door, holding it open for you on the other side. “Gotta get one of those.” He tells himself, eyeing your stroller.

“We can make a list of what you’ll need. I’m guessing you have the basics but there’s so much stuff.” You sigh, knowing it’s not always been in your reach but someone like him could buy it all. 

“A list sounds good. Coffee?” He suggests, gesturing to the small coffee shop down the street and you nod. 

“Sounds good. I desperately need one. He kept me up all night. He was hungry last night and wouldn’t settle unless he was against my breast.”

Dieter keeps his dirty thoughts to himself, but he doesn’t blame the kid. He would love to sleep with a nipple in his mouth too. “We will make sure to get you an extra shot of espresso.” He promises, carrying the car seat and diaper bag as he walks alongside you. “I’m being serious. About the job, I mean.” He tells you. “I have tried every nanny service in the greater L.A. area with no luck, although I’m on their waitlist.” He sighs and shuffles the carrier when his arm gets tired in one position. “I have an in-law suite you and Oliver can use, if you want a little more privacy than just sleeping upstairs.” He knows he sounds desperate, because he is desperate. Johan knows less than he does about babies and has zero interest in watching the kid while he is busy.

“Let’s sit down with the babies and then we can order.” You suggest and he nods, guiding you over to a table in the back. Rosie is waking up and he panics when she starts to cry. “Oh hello gorgeous.” You murmur, leaning down to look at his daughter and Dieter is fumbling to get the bottle from the bag to make her formula. You sigh, sensing he needs help and you unbuckle the baby, Oliver asleep as you cradle Rosie, her cries settling a little and you stand up, rocking her and you reach for the formula Dieter has, a whole damn container, and work fast on a bottle. “My sister has kids. I used to babysit them.” You explain and work fast with one hand to prepare a bottle and bring it to her lips. “Here you go sweet pea.” You coo as she starts to gulp down the milk.

“You’re really good at this.” Dieter says in awe, watching you handle things so smoothly. “I’m just-I don’t know.” He sighs, feeling bad that he’s not good at this. 

“Babies sense the emotions around them.” You tell him quietly. “You panic, she’s going to become more frantic. Just talk to her while you are getting her bottle ready. Or have one already mixed up, ready to go.” You think about all the formulas that are already bottled and just need a nipple slapped on them. “We can find a routine that works for you.”

Dieter nods, “yes. Yes. God, please take the job. I need you.” He pleads and you shift Rosie into his arms, transferring the bottle to him. 

“I’ll take the job. On one condition.” You say, sitting back down and you rock Oliver’s stroller. 

“Anything.” Dieter vows. 

“You learn too. I don’t want you to just shove her into my arms at the first sign of difficulty. She’s your daughter. You need to know how to care for her, to bond with her. You can’t just hand her off and expect me to do it all. She needs to know her daddy.”

Dieter nods, knowing that he would do that if given the opportunity. “Okay.” He agrees. “I want you to help me become better at taking care of her.” He bites his lip and looks at you. “What do you want for pay?” He asks, listing off a number that the nanny services had given him. “Does that sound okay? Plus, you’ll have full use of the house. And a card for expenses. I don’t expect you to buy the diapers or wipes or any of that shit.”

Your eyes widen, it’s way more than you were making at your old job. Your landlord has been threatening you with eviction since you’re struggling to pay, and this almost seems like fate. “Wow. I- are you sure?” You ask him and he nods, “I’m absolutely sure.” 

You swallow and offer him a soft smile, “then I’m your new nanny.” He grins and your heart thumps in your chest at how handsome he is. “There’s something you gotta know though.” You sigh and Dieter nods, waiting for you to go on. “Oliver’s father. He - he died.” You feel yourself tearing up, “we - I was only a few months pregnant when we got into the car accident.  I didn’t even know I was pregnant at the time but Ollie- he- he died. We were- we were friends, friends with benefits and we got pregnant and he- he never got to meet his son.” You choke, the grief that’s consumed you threatens to take you again. He didn’t have any family left alive so Oliver would’ve been his only family.

“I’m sorry.” Dieter frowns, unsure of how to comfort someone about a death that meaningful but he feels like he should say something. “That is rough. Hopefully- hopefully this will turn into a good arrangement.” He offers with a small shrug, realizing that things could be worse. He can’t imagine what it would be like going through this alone. “After our coffee, do you want to come over? See the house?” He asks. “I can call my agent to draw up any kind of paperwork you want.”

You nod, sniffing to stop yourself from crying about Ollie. You loved him, he was your friend, but you were never in love with him. He had his problems and you had yours. It would’ve never worked. Oliver is here now and you have to be strong for him, to keep Ollie’s memory alive. “Yes. I- this is a lot but I want to change my life. I need a change. I want to work for you.” You say as the barista takes pity on you with the babies and comes over to take your order. “I’ll have a vanilla latte please.” You order and Dieter adds, “with an extra shot of espresso.”

After taking your orders, Rosie finishes her bottle and Dieter shifts to put her up on his shoulder to burp. “Hang on, you need a spit rag.” You insist, digging in your own diaper bag to produce one. 

“Huh,” Dieter huffs, “I just thought I was supposed to wear her puke until she stopped doing that.” He jokes, the stains on his shirt only partly from his daughter. 

“No, you always carry multiple burp clothes and changes of clothes, for both of you.” You tell him with a smile.

He nods, mentally taking notes. He has so much to learn from you to make sure his daughter is well looked after. He doesn’t want to fail at being a father. He wants her to know he did everything he could to be a good daddy. He knows you will be good for Rosie, for him too. He sips his coffee and watches you with Oliver, rocking his stroller, and he can see you’re a good mom. He feels comfortable with you. “Do you wanna come back to my place?” Dieter asks, realizing that’s the first time he’s asked that question without it being for sex or drugs

You bite your lip and look up at the frazzled, yet handsome man who is offering you a dream situation. A place to live and the ability to stay at home with your son while still earning money. You don’t know if you would ever get a better offer. “Yes.” You agree. “I’ll follow you? Maybe you can text me the address in case we get separated?” You want to look it up really quickly, just to make sure it’s a real place.

He nods, taking your number to text you his address. He is anxious for you to see the house, hoping you love it and it helps to get you to take the job. You strap Oliver into his car seat while Dieter does the same to Rosie and soon enough, you’re driving to his house.

“I, uh, I’ll ask the housekeeper to come in more than once a week.” Dieter offers, climbing out of his car as you do the same. He doesn’t want you to think that it’s all going to fall on you. “Oh, Johan told me about a diaper delivery service. All natural diapers? That’s better, right?” He asks, anxious about doing the right thing. He had read about the chemicals used in the nappies he currently has.

You smile at his anxiety, wanting the best for Rosie, and you know he’s going to be a good daddy once he gets his feet under him. “Johan?” You ask and Dieter nods, “my assistant. He’s - he is my lifeline.” Dieter confesses and you nod, understanding he lives a completely different life to you. He needs an assistant to manage his schedule. You take Oliver out of the car in his carrier and follow Dieter into the house, your eyes wide at the gorgeous home he owns. “This is - wow.” You exhale as you enter the grand property.

“Thank you.” Dieter shows you the bottom floor and opens the door to his study. “I have all this shit I don’t know what it’s for.” The room is filled with boxes of toys and jumpers, cribs and carriers. Johan had gone overboard but Dieter had wanted to make sure that he had everything he needed. Your eyes widen and he blushes, “I was trying my best.” 

You nod, understating he has struggled since Rosie was dropped on his doorstep. “We can get everything set up. Does she have a nursery?” You ask and he shakes his head, “she’s been in my room. I- I haven’t really slept. I’ve been trying to watch her sleep in case, you know.” 

You understand, knowing you stay awake watching Oliver breathing. It’s a lot of anxiety being a first time parent. “We will get her nursery set up and then you can keep her in your room if you want but then she has somewhere to nap and call her own.” You smile and rub his shoulder after you set Oliver down in his carrier, he’s asleep. “It’s gonna be fine.” You promise him, glancing around the beautiful living room. “It’s gonna need some baby proofing and, uh, that needs to go.” You gesture to the powder packet on the counter.

“Oh, I, uh-“ Dieter rushes forward and grabs the packet to sweep it off the counter and into his pocket. “I haven’t- that’ll be put away.” He promises, cursing himself for leaving it out. He hadn’t taken any lately, not since Rosie arrived because he’s too fucking scared of something happening to her while he’s bombed. “Sorry.” He hopes you don’t decide to leave him high and dry because of that. “Do you want to see the rooms you and Oliver could have?” He asks desperately.

You stop him, “I- I am taking the job but you won’t do drugs in this house with the babies. If something happened or they got hold of it - I couldn’t - no drugs in this house. Period. You wanna go get high somewhere else? Fine. But your daughter comes first, you understand?” You ask him, knowing you won’t risk your own son around that kind of bullshit.

Immediately nodding, Dieter understands what you are saying. “I haven’t- not since she’s arrived.” He confesses. “I’ve been too scared to even try in case something happens.” He’s not stupid enough to think he won’t do drugs anymore but he does want to be there for his daughter.

You nod, knowing it’s not ideal but it will have to do. As long as they aren’t kept in the house and he doesn’t do them around the children, it’s his business. You are just his employee. “Okay.” You pat his shoulder and he guides you to the guest suite. “Dieter…this is…wow.” You gasp at the massive room, “this is - this is a lot. Are you sure - there’s no other room you want me to have?” You ask, knowing this room is the size of your apartment.

“You need room for you and Oliver.” He shrugs, not wanting to say that he doesn’t have guests unless it was someone from a party. And he doubts he’s having those here anymore. “This way you have privacy and your own bathroom.” He knows that is important and figured this would be perfect. “And using another room for Oliver is okay too.” He doesn’t want to suggest the nursery can be shared, but he wouldn’t mind. “Will this work?”

You smile, reaching out to pat his arm, “this is more than enough, Dieter. It’s perfect.” You promise and he grins, pleased that you are happy. He sighs when Rosie starts to cry and Oliver follows suit, both babies waking up. “Come on daddy, let’s go feed the babies.”

He feels more confident with you beside him. Even if it’s just your presence reminding him that he should test the bottle on the inside of his wrist before popping the nipple in Rosie’s mouth while Oliver is greedily suckling at your breast for his own meal. “That wasn’t too bad.” He grins down at his daughter, eyes wide but slowly starting to close as she gulps down the bottle. “How often do you have to feed Oliver?” He asks, trying to keep his eyes on your face respectfully. You aren’t giving him a show.

“About every one and a half to two hours. Depends on when he’s hungry. He lets me know.” You chuckle and watch your son as his gulps turn into suckles which lead to him falling asleep against your breast. “It’s - it’s exhausting but he’s worth it.” You smile at Dieter who is rocking Rosie. “You’re getting better already. We will make a list of everything we need for you and, um, I guess I better go and pack.” You smile bashfully, knowing this is a big move but it’s what’s best for you and Oliver.

“Why don’t we hire someone to pack you?” Dieter asks with a frown. You have your hands full and he knows that it will take a lot to take care of your son and try to pack. “I’ll pay for it. I don’t mind. That way we can get the nursery set up.”

“Are you sure? I- I don’t know if you’re gonna find someone so late notice. I don’t have much. And I will need Oliver’s crib and -” 

You don’t get to finish because Dieter is pulling out his phone to call Johan and arrange for your things to be moved today. “Whatever it costs.” Dieter says and you swallow, knowing Dieter has more money than you could imagine if he can waste it like that. 

“Thank you.” You tell him, cradling Oliver who is fast asleep.

“It’s nothing.” Dieter waves away the thanks and looks down at Rosie as she finishes the last of her bottle. “Okay little girl, let’s get you to burp, and then maybe a nap?” He asks, grinning. “She has the manliest burps.” He brags, astounded that something so small could make such a racket. “I have the other cradle thingy if you want to lay your son down.”

“The bassinet?” You smirk and he shrugs one shoulder, “I’m still learning.” You nod and let him guide you to the bassinet and you carefully lay Oliver down before adjusting your shirt after clipping your nursing bra. Rosie burps and you giggle softly, liking how proud Dieter is of her and you watch him lay her down in the cradle next to Oliver. “Maybe they will be best friends.” You whisper, leaning closer to him.

“That would be cool.” Dieter imagines it, his own childhood lonely and isolated. There were times he had wished desperately for a built-in friend. “Let’s get out of here before we wake them up.” He has learned that Rosie is cranky if she gets woken up before she’s ready and he doesn’t blame her, he’s the same way. Maybe she got it from him. “So, uh, since there’s two kids….just, um, we’re gonna need that double stroller thingy, right?” Dieter asks as he walks down the hall with you. “And can you show me that carrier thing? The one you have the baby wrapped to your body? That looks cool. Oh, and uh, the diapers. The service, when we get that set up, use it for Oliver too.” He adds. “No need to have two different types of diapers, right?”

You nod, realizing it’s best not to argue. “Let’s leave them to sleep and we can work on getting the nursery set up. I- I really appreciate this opportunity, Dieter.” You tell him and lean in to kiss his cheek. He blushes as you set your phone up as a makeshift baby monitor, calling his phone, and you leave the babies to sleep. Dieter follows you, his eyes dropping down to your ass, and he curses internally when he realizes he finds you hot. 

****

“Dieter!” You call out, trying to find your boss. Oliver and Rosie are having tummy time on the play mat and you need your breast pump. It’s been a couple of months since you moved in with Dieter to become his full time nanny and it’s been surprisingly nice. Rosie is a good girl and you’ve grown to fall in love with her, making sure her and Oliver get equal treatment. “Can you get my pump?” You ask when he doesn’t respond.

“Yeah!” Dieter reluctantly lets go of his cock and tucks it away in his dress slacks. He had been trying to tug one out before he had to go to court, formally getting custody of his daughter. Nervous and not able to get high, jerking off had become even more of a habit than before now he had started thinking about you while he was doing it. You’re so fucking pretty and kind. Looking like an angel as you take care of his daughter. Dieter knows that he’s falling in love with you but he can’t do anything about it. Not willing to risk you leaving and denying Rosie the best nanny in the world. Washing his hands quickly, he rushes to the kitchen to grab the pump where you had cleaned it last night while he sterilized bottles. “Here it is.”

You thank him, breasts aching and you attach the suction, not thinking about Dieter as you sigh in relief at the milk finally being pumped. “Shit. That feels good.” You groan, the whooshing of the machine pumping and you have been pumping enough for Rosie to have milk too. It’s been a lot but you love the babies. “What time do you have to leave?” You ask Dieter, catching him staring at your tits and you hate that it thrills you. He’s so sexy, unintentionally so, and goofy as hell. He’s good with his daughter and you’ve grown close, raising the babies together, and you know it’s getting harder and harder to deny how you feel every day.

“Oh, uh, I gotta leave in twenty minutes.” His cock is still hard in his trousers and he twitches at the groan you make. Every day you pump, having no modesty around him now and you shouldn’t - it’s natural but Dieter still thinks it’s sexy. “I’m nervous.” He admits, glancing over at Rosie as she squeals and waves her arms on her tummy. “I know that my lawyer said it’s a formality, but what if the judge doesn’t like me? What if he takes Rosie from me?”

You shake your head and reach for his hand, squeezing it. “I promise you, it’s gonna be fine, D. You’re a good daddy and that will be shown. I know your past hasn’t been ideal but you got this. You’re a good man, Rosie is lucky to have you. We all are. It’s gonna be fine. I promise you.” You offer him a soft smile and squeeze his hand again.

“I’m more nervous than the night I won my Oscar.” Dieter confesses with a nervous chuckle. He doesn’t tell you that he was high, sure that you could guess that, although he has done anything more than hit his weed pen since you’ve moved in. Rosie is surprisingly therapeutic, although he’s glad she doesn’t understand what he talks about during the nights he gets up with her. The movie is almost halfway done shooting and he’s going to make sure that once he’s done, you get a week off so you can veg for more than a night. He looks down at your joined hands and smiles. “I’ll call you when I get out, okay?” He asks, and you nod, letting go of him. “And eat that kale and beet salad in the fridge”, he throws over his shoulder as he rushes towards the door. “It’s supposed to help the milk supply.”

You roll your eyes playfully, looking back at the babies. “Daddy is silly, isn’t he?” You talk to Rosie and look at Oliver, saddened that he isn’t going to know his father. You wonder what Ollie would think of Dieter. They are similar in a lot of ways but Ollie was always practical, making sure you weren’t in a relationship because of his strenuous job as a firefighter. He didn’t want you to be one of those women sitting around waiting for him. You sigh and wonder what you are going to do about Dieter. It’s too comfortable with him. 

****

“Dinner’s ready!” You call out. The babies are now six and seven months old. Sitting in their baby bouncers, watching you setting the dinner out for Dieter. He’s finished filming and you want to celebrate. The nice bottle of wine on the table alongside his favorite pasta.

“Oh my god, you spoil me.” Dieter groans as he comes into the dining room, freshly showered and in comfortable clothes. Rosie squeals happily and so does Oliver, both of them in their high chairs. Dieter grins leaning in and blowing a raspberry on his daughter’s cheek and then on your son’s. He never thought he was a kid type of person, but his playfulness extends to your son. He’s a good kid and it would not be right when you are so good with Rosie if he ignored the little guy. It makes him imagine that the four of you are a family, a real one and he was coming home from work to all of you. “You didn’t have to do this.”

You shake your head, enjoying the way his hand finds your waist as you reach for the parmesan on the counter. You turn to face him, cupping his cheek, “you just finished filming. You deserve a treat.” You smile, caressing his cheek and your eyes dip down to his lips for a second. He stares at you and you clear your throat, lowering your hand, “let’s eat. You must be starving.” You set the cheese down and glance over at the babies, you fed them while dinner was cooking so now you and Dieter can enjoy your meal.

“How was your day?” He’s finding that this, fatherhood and responsibility, is grounding for him. Not just concentrating on his whims and trolling through boredom. Every day is different and challenging with kids, especially when he’s trying to make sure that none of his own parents' mistakes affect Rosie. “The kids were okay?” He asks, pouring more wine into each of your glasses. You hum in protest but Dieter shakes his head. “Just pump and dump. You deserve more than one glass.” He huffs.

You sigh but let him pour some more wine, it’s been stressful with the babies today. “Rosie decided to throw up all over Oliver and herself so both of them needed a bath and then Oliver managed to get his diaper off in his onesie so he needed another bath and then Rosie wouldn’t stop crying because Oliver wasn’t next to her. It’s been - it’s been a day.” You sigh and Dieter nods, reaching for your hand. It feels so normal, like you’re complaining to your husband about your hectic day over wine and you look up at Dieter, “I love them both so much but today was…it was a lot.”

“I can imagine.” Dieter squeezes your hand gently and once again thinks that it’s odd that you don’t feel like his employee. You feel like his wife, although he’s never kissed you, or touched you like he’s imagined. “Let me take both the kids tonight.” He offers. “I’ve got the next week off before I have to do all the press bullshit for the other movie coming out in two weeks. Why don’t you take a little vacation? A spa or something?” His parenting skills have improved drastically and there have been times where he’s watched Oliver for you. Like when you had to go for another postpartum checkup.

You groan, letting go of his hand so you can continue eating. “I won’t lie…a massage sounds good. My back has been killing me.” You confess, twirling the pasta around your fork and you bite your lip, wondering what a massage from him would be like with his hands. “I wouldn’t mind going to the mall. I need some new clothes that aren't leggings.” You chuckle, “and I need some new underwear.” You sigh before you chew on the pasta.

Dieter’s cock twitches at the thought of your underwear. Not that he sees them. You’ve taken over doing the laundry even though he offered to have someone come in. Or he could help. Insisting that it was no problem. Johan had even commented that you made his house seem like a real home, and Dieter couldn’t deny that. “You could do all that.” He promises. “I’ll watch the kids. I want to spend some time with R and O.”

You feel guilty leaving the kids behind but you trust Dieter, something you never thought you’d say, but he has proven himself to be an amazing father. You smile, “thanks baby.” You tell him and he swallows the wine down. It’s getting harder to deny how you feel. After finishing eating, Dieter helps you clean up while you have the babies in the play pen. “Bedtime for the bubbies.” You coo, picking up Rosie and kissing her hair. “Daddy is gonna change you, baby girl.” You slide her into Dieter’s arms and pick up Oliver.

“Why don’t you go take your own bath?” Dieter offers, grinning down at Rosie. “You’ve had them all day and you said it’s been rough. Go take a bubble bath. I can get them ready for bed.” He’s made huge strides as a father, as a caretaker and now that he’s more confident, he finds he likes it. Kids are fun. And easy to learn how to please. “I can rock them both and get them settled.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, trusting him but you want him to be comfortable. 

“I am for this.” He promises and you nod, “you got this. I- I can feed O before they get to sleep.” You say and he shakes his head. 

“No. I got it.” He promises, knowing he can warm up your milk. 

You lean in to kiss the babies’ heads, “goodnight my loves. I love you so much.” You say to them and you look up at Dieter, offering him a grateful smile. You make your way into the bathroom, sighing in relief when you sink into the tub.

Dieter hums to the babies as he warms up their last bottles of the night. Changed and in clean onesies, they are ready for that last bottle. Smirking to himself as he tests the breast milk on his wrist and barely resists licking it. He wants to try it, but he feels like that might be crossing a line. Getting both of the babies settled in each arm and they can hold their own bottle now with a little help. “You two are like twins, you know that?” He coos at both of them, settling in the rocker on the nursery while they eat. Watching their eyes grow heavier as they suck. You had both decided to keep them in the same nursery, letting them bond and it has worked out so much better than he had ever hoped. He loves Oliver like Rosie and when they fall asleep at the same time, he’s grinning as he holds them for a little longer before shifting to put them to sleep in the same crib. They cried if they were separated, curling up together during the night as if they were twins.

You sigh, relaxing in the hot water until you decide to get out and say goodnight to the babies. You shrug your robe on, tying it as you make your way to the nursery as Dieter leans over the crib. “They asleep?” You whisper and he nods. You caress their heads, loving how they are asleep together, keeping each other safe. Sometimes you see them holding hands in the night. It’s adorable. You rest your head on Dieter’s shoulder as you watch them for another moment and he turns his head to kiss your hair. It makes your heart pound and you pull away, letting the babies sleep with the white noise machine running.

Dieter’s hands seem to be twitchy as you walk out of the nursery in front of him. He knows that you are only dressed in a robe and he wants nothing more than to strip you out of it and touch you. Make you shake in pleasure. “Do you want to have a drink?” Dieter asks. “Or are you calling it a night?”

“A drink sounds good. Relax after a long day.” You smile, walking into the kitchen to open the second bottle of wine you’d bought earlier. You work fast to open it, pouring a glass and handing it to him before you settle on the sofa. “You wanna continue watching that show on HBO?” You ask, knowing he hates it when you watch an episode without him.

“Yes!” Dieter lights up and he narrows his eyes at you playfully. “You better not have already watched it.” He threatens playfully, handing you the remote. He likes when you relax and loves that you feel completely at home here. It is your home. He leans towards you and takes a sip of the wine. “What do you think is gonna happen, this episode? The previews looked good.”

You nod, shifting closer towards him. “I promise you. I haven’t seen it yet.” You assure him and have another sip of your wine. You love and hate how relaxed you are, how easy this is. How real it feels. Like you’re a proper family. The baby monitor is on the coffee table and you rest your head on Dieter’s shoulder as he presses play. You barely watch the show, too focused on the way Dieter feels pressed against you.

About halfway through the show Dieter shuffles, throwing his arm around the backside of the couch and around you. Letting you slide down against him more. You pull the throw blanket over your legs and he smiles, wondering how you are always cold but it’s a cute quirk he’s noticed.

You snuggle into his side, hand finding his chest and you caress the skin under the shirt he always has half buttoned. He sighs and you breathe him in, pleased to feel his heart thumping under your touch. This intimacy, it’s what keeps you satisfied when you yearn for more but you can’t risk it. Your job. Your home. Your life is connected to his and you can’t afford to mess it up. 

“Marry me.” Dieter says and you think you misheard him. 

“What?” You ask, not moving. 

“Marry me.” He repeats and you jerk back from his side so you can look him in the eyes. 

“What- did you just ask me to marry you?”

“I did.” Dieter nods, turning towards you and reaching for your hand. “I love you. I love how you make this house feel like a home. I love how you care for Rosie and I love Oliver.” He adds. “I love coming home to you and I want this-“ he motions around the house and between the two of you. “To be real. I want to touch you, kiss you. Make love to you.” Dieter isn’t a man who talks in terms like ‘making love’ but that’s exactly what it would be. “I think you love me too, don’t you? I know you do.”

You shake your head, wanting to tell him you love him. He’s crazy, he leaves his socks everywhere and he has so many holes in his shirts but he’s kind and whacky and so damn funny. You love him, you’re in love with him, but to marry him would be a bad idea. You can’t risk this life you’ve created together. “Dieter.” You sigh, pulling your hand out of his. “We can’t. We can’t risk the babies. We - if it all went wrong, then I’d be moving out with Oliver and Rosie loses him and vice versa. If it all went wrong, I’d be homeless and I wouldn’t have anything. I can’t risk that for my son. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

His heart breaks but he’s determined to convince you this is a good thing. Latching onto what you said about being homeless, his eyes widen. “I’ll buy you a house.” He bursts out. “In your name alone. It’ll be yours. Completely.” He nods to himself, grinning like an idiot and picks up your hand again. “It won’t go wrong, you’re perfect and I love you. I want to be with you and our babies all the time and fuck, I want another baby when you’re ready.” He missed everything about Rosie’s birth and he wants to see your stomach large with a baby, his baby. “But if it did-“ he stresses the word ‘if’, “-you would have a house for you and Oliver. And you could rent it out right now. The money would be yours. Totally yours.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “I can’t - that’s too much. A house here is insane. That’s a crazy amount to put into this. That - a whole damn house? That’s what you want to do?” You ask incredulously and he nods. 

“All I know is that I can’t stop thinking about you. I need you. I love you.” He promises and you swallow harshly, tears stinging in your eyes. 

Your heart yearns for him yet your head tells you it’s too much of a risk. “Dieter…” You trail off and he frowns, pulling away slightly, sensing your rejection. “I love you.” Your eyes water and a sob escapes your lips as you start to cry. No one has ever been so kind to you. To know he loves you enough to buy a house so you feel secure in case something goes wrong. It has you sobbing.

He lunges forward, crushing you to him in a comforting hug. “Don’t cry baby, please don’t cry. I never want you to cry.” He pleads, sure that he’s messed up somehow. “I’m sorry, I just can’t stop wanting you. Seeing you with our babies, I think- I wish they were ours. Our twins and we had them together.” He rubs your back and pets your hair as you sob into his chest and he tries to think of how he could make you feel better.

You sob into his chest at his words, wishing they were true but it’s not and that’s okay. The babies brought you together and you know you and Dieter would’ve never met if it weren’t for that single moms group. “I - I love you.” You offer him a watery smile as you pull back and he reaches out to gently wipe your tears away. “I love you and I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I love you Dieter.” You confess, cupping his cheeks.

Dieter’s smile is slow, soft and he can’t believe that you are saying yes. He leans in and presses his lips to yours softly. Loving how you immediately open for him to slide his tongue against yours with a groan. Pulling you close against him again, this time shamelessly pressing his body against yours. “I love you.” He promises, kissing down your jaw line. “Do you want to have sex with me? Or do you want to wait?” He wants you in his bed, but if you wanted to wait until the deed to the house was in your hands, he would understand that. He would go out tomorrow and buy you the best house he could find.

You know you’ve spent far too much time thinking about him, having him inside of you, pressing against you, and you know you should slow down but you can’t. “I want you. I don’t want to wait. I want you now.” You tell him breathlessly and you press your lips to his, cupping his cheek while you slide your tongue against his.

Groaning, Dieter pulls you closer and starts to lean you back against the sofa, knowing that he needs to take you to bed but right now, he needs to feel you under him. “So beautiful.” He praises, kissing your chin and nips your skin with his teeth.

You sigh, loving how it feels to have him touch you. His hand sliding along your thigh and you whimper, “Dieter. Please. I want you to touch me.” You plead, guiding his hand to the tie of your robe while your hands caress his chest under his ratty t-shirt.

He hums, twitching against your hip and he leans back and grins at you, “I’m going to, baby. I’m going to make sure you know exactly what you are getting from me.” He pulls your robe open and groans at the sight of your tits. Looking back up at you. “Can I taste?” He asks. “I’ve dreamed of tasting your milk.”

Your cunt clenches around nothing at the thought. “You’ve imagined it?” You ask breathlessly and he nods so you move fast to straddle him, his cock hard against your thigh, and you lean in towards him to kiss him as you shrug your robe off of your shoulders. “You can have a taste.”

He knows your tits are tender, hearing you complain and watching as you sometimes have to massage them. He cups them in his hands, groaning at how full they are, grinning. “Fuck, I can drink it all since you were going to dump it.” He realizes as he leans forward to wrap his lips around one nipple.”

“Oh shit.” You gasp, groaning softly at the relief and arousal coursing through you. You love it. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you watch him gulp down your milk and you’re amazed that he enjoys it. “Oh God baby.” You pant, feeling the relief of your milk draining and the way he sucks on your nipple, biting it now and then.

“Shit.” He gasps, feeling his cock throbbing. “It’s better than I expected.” He moans, switching to your other breasts and he knows this will become a favorite thing for him now. One hand slides down between your thighs and he is so fucking happy to find you wet.

“Dieter. Please.” You beg, needing more from him. It’s been so long since someone touched you. Not since Ollie. You rock down onto his fingers, loving how he rubs your clit while his lips suckle on your other breast. “Oh fuck, D. So good.” You whimper, caressing his shoulders.

“What do you want, baby?” He pulls off your nipple with a pop. “You want me to eat your pussy?” He groans at the thought. “Want to sit on Dieter’s face? Smother me with your cunt?”

You giggle breathlessly, “that’s the only way to shut you up?” You tease and he nods, “one of the few ways.” 

You laugh and he moves fast to shift, laying down and he pulls you over to hover over his face. “Shit baby. So good to me.” You gasp when he drags you down on top of his face.

The first taste is always amazing. Sliding his tongue though your folds as he pulls your hips down onto his mouth. Holding you there as he licks and then sucks on your clit.

You whimper, “baby. Oh baby.” You moan, grinding down onto his face. “So good. So fucking good.” You moan, loving how enthusiastic he is and he squeezes your ass, encouraging you to move. You do, rocking your hips down even more.

He doesn’t care that you two are on the couch or that he is throbbing in his pants. All he cares about is making you moan his name. He knows he will slide inside you as soon as you cum for him. He moans against your clit, loving how you are smothering him just like he wanted you to. Using him for your pleasure.

“Fuck. Fuck. It’s so good, baby.” You pant, lost in the pleasure of his mouth on you. You rock on top of his mouth, his nose pressing against your clit as his tongue pushes deep. “Fuck baby. Yes. Yes. Yes. Keep - keep going.” You beg, moaning his name.

He can’t breathe, but he doesn’t care. Too busy licking into you to feel your walls start to convulse around his tongue. Moaning when the first rush if your juices hit his mouth and your moan of his name almost makes him cum in his pants. Digging his fingers into your hips, Dieter doubles down on making you shriek his name.

You throw your head back as he makes you cum, moaning his name as you clamp down around his tongue. “Fuck baby. Fuck. I- I love you.” You whine when he works you through it and you whimper, lifting off of him when it becomes too much.

Panting like he was the one who had cum, Dieter licks his lips, completely pussy drunk as he caresses your side. Enjoying the boneless way you collapse on top of him as you try to catch your breath. “I love you. Fuck, you’re my new favorite meal.”

You inhale deeply, shifting off of him and you waste no time in tugging his shirt off of him. “Baby. I want to see all of you.” You tell him, tossing the ragged shirt away and you pull his sweats down to expose his cock. “Holy - that’s what you got?” Your eyes are wide at the girth and you wrap your fingers around him.

Dieter groans, bucking his hips and biting his lip in pleasure. “Fuck, is that not enough?” He gasps out. Normally women have no issue with his size but maybe your Ollie was hung like a horse.

“Not enough? Dieter, baby, I’m gonna feel you tomorrow.” You assure him, “I’m gonna need - wow. You might have to get some lube.” You admit and you start to pump him, in awe that your fingers don’t touch. You know it’s been so long since you’ve had sex and he is thick. You’ve always preferred girth over length anyway. “You’re big.” You promise him, leaning in to flick your tongue over the leaking slit.

He preens at your praise, eyes rolling back in his head at the feel of your tongue. “I’ve got lube.” He promises, reaching down and cradling your jaw. “Use it all the time, jerking off thinking about you.” He’s not ashamed of masturbating while thinking of you. “Baby let's go to the bedroom. You can ride me if you want more control.”

You want to suck his cock but you know you’ll have plenty of time to do that later. Right now, you need him inside of you. Releasing his cock, you pick up the baby monitor and stand up, smirking as you make your way to his bedroom. He’s scrambling to get his sweatpants off and you disappear down the hall, throwing over your shoulder, “don’t keep me waiting, Bravo.”

“Shit.” He hisses, eager to chase after you. Noticing that you are headed to his bedroom and not your own. “I’m coming baby, fuck.” He watches your ass shake as you sway your hips. “Gonna buy you the biggest fucking house I can find.”

You giggle, setting the monitor down on the nightstand and you gasp when Dieter’s hands grab your hips, pulling you back into him. You quickly spin and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his. “I love you.” You murmur against his mouth, his hard cock pressing into your stomach.

“I love you too.” Dieter moans softly, sliding his hands down and squeezing your ass. “Do you- do you need me to wear a condom?” He asks, sure that you aren’t wanting to get pregnant so soon after having your son. It wasn’t like you two had discussed birth control.

“No. I- I got an IUD put in. Figured they might as well do it while I was there and it wasn’t painful. I’m clean too. Not been with anyone since Ollie.” You promise and wonder if he’s clean. You don’t know when he slept with someone last. Maybe after you arrived. You don’t know. It’s not like it was your business when you were just his nanny.

He nods. “I uh, I haven’t been with anyone since Rosie has shown up. I’m clean.” He promises, eager to slide inside you and feel you without a barrier. “I didn’t want to do that kind to shit around her. Give her a good example. Don’t want her to be like me.”

You cup his cheeks, “you’re a good father and she’s gonna be just fine. You’re doing a good job.” You remind him, leaning in to kiss along his jaw. “Come on baby, you want me to ride you?” You ask and he nods. You let go of him and he walks over to his nightstand to grab the lube while you kneel on the bed. When he’s laying down, you grab the bottle and squirt some into your hand, wrapping your fingers around his cock to coat him before you swipe your fingers through your folds to make sure you’re slick enough. “Fuck, you’re gonna stretch me out.” You tell him as you straddle him.

“Want to see it.” Dieter pants, chest heaving as he watches you position his cock at your entrance. Moaning your name as you start to sink down on him, he can feel his entire body light up in pleasure at the hot clutch of your cunt. “I love you. I fucking love you.” Dieter cries, his fingers digging into your thighs as you slowly take him deeper, watching your mouth drop open and loving the way you moan his name.

Your eyes close as you slowly sink down onto him. He’s so thick, it stings, but you like that. It’s been so long since you had sex and this is the man you love. Your heart pounds in your chest as your thighs meet his, his cock fully inside of you, and his fingers sink into your flesh. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” He grunts and you giggle, leaning down to kiss along his jaw. “I fucking love you too.” You murmur, licking along his neck until you are biting his earlobe so you can give yourself a moment to adjust to him.

He whines, unable to stop himself from lurching up in pleasure. “Oh did you like that?” You giggle breathlessly, making him moan and turn his head so you can do it again. 

“More baby, fuck. Want you to mark me up.” He begs, so starved for attention that he needs to drown in it. His hand squeezes your ass again and it takes concentration to not urge you to move, your walls fluttering so deliciously around him.

You love how desperate he is for you. Biting down on his earlobe again and his cock twitches inside of you. You take pity, finally feeling comfortable, and you shift, rocking on his cock while you nibble on his ear, whispering “you’re mine. I’m gonna make sure everyone sees it.” You smirk as you kiss down his neck, sucking and biting on his skin.

“Fuck yes, I’m yours, I’m yours.” Dieter chants, rocking his hips up to chase your cunt when you lift off of him. Hating even the brief few seconds where he’s not buried inside your warmth. “All yours baby.” He groans, closing his eyes at the pure bliss of being able to touch you, to tell you what he’s thinking without worrying about offending you. “Gonna marry you. Give you everything.” He gasps out.

You moan, “I’m yours too. Been yours since I moved into this house. I’m gonna be your wife.” You promise and he groans, hands caressing your back. You kiss his collarbone and shift back, making his cock sink deeper and you grab his hands to help you balance as you ride his cock. “Fuck. Yes. God, so good. So good inside of me.” You ramble, squeezing his hands as you start to pick up the pace.

“God, fuck, your pussy is gold.” His toes curl and he loves how you start to bounce on his cock. Making your tits away heavily and he watches with them unabashed lust. “So fucking gorgeous.” He pants. “Can’t wait to see you pregnant, riding my cock.”

“One day.” You promise with a grin, breathless from how good this feels. You let go of his hands, leaning back to grab his knees, and you grind down onto his cock, hitting just the right spot to make you gasp. “Fuck, baby. Oh my - I’m - it’s gonna make me cum.” You confess, reaching down to rub your clit.

Dieter frowns and slaps your hand away, pouting up at you. “Let me.” He insists, pressing his thumb to your clit and rubbing a tight circle over the bundle of nerves while you bounce on his cock. “Fuck baby, cum, please cum. I’m gonna -“ he hisses. “Not gonna last. Too fucking tight.” Your walls clenching down around him every other bounce is getting to be too much and he grits his teeth, praying he lasts long enough for you to soak his cock.”

Your moans are getting breathier as you struggle to breathe from the pleasure. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Dieter. I’m gonna - oh!” You moan, clamping down on his cock and soaking him, his thumb still working your clit until your thighs are shaking. “Cum for me.” You beg breathlessly, wanting to feel it as you convulse on top of him from your orgasm.

You don’t have to say anything else. His entire body is aching to cum, gripping your hips harshly as he starts to thrust wildly up into your body. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shiiiiiiiiiit.” Dieter whines, burying his cock half a dozen more times before his back is bowing and he is crying out your name, filling you with hot spurts of his seed.

You pant, collapsing onto his chest as his cock twitches inside of you, and you kiss along his neck. Unable to speak, you enjoy the aftermath of your orgasms. The connection you feel to Dieter has you on cloud nine. He’s a good father and a good man, despite what the paps print. He’s changed for his child and that makes you love him more. “Good?” You ask breathlessly, hoping he enjoyed it as much as you did.

“So fucking good.” Dieter’s eyes are closed and his expression is one of pure relaxation. Enjoying the way you feel on top of him. “God, you’re spending the night right here. Every night from now on.” He slides a hand up and down your back, enjoying the feeling of your slick skin under his palm. “Now we just need the kids to sleep through the night.”

“Soon. They are getting better. And you want another one to keep us awake?” You tease, giggling when his cock twitches inside of you. 

“I do.” He promises and you caress his cheek, leaning back to look into his eyes. “Me too. One day.” You lean in to softly kiss his lips, knowing you want this man to be your husband, to be everything. **** 

“Diet, babe. Can you get me that - shit.” You hiss after you feel the baby kick your ribcage. 

“Bad word mama.” Rosie points at you and you nod, “sorry, love. Mama needs to sit down.” You tell the three year old. Ollie comes over to sit down on the sofa next to you, his small hand on your belly as he leans in to talk to the baby in your belly. Rosie follows suit, wanting to do what her brother is doing. 

“Hello baby. It’s me. Your big brother-” 

“and sister.” Rosie adds as she leans in to press her ear to your stomach. You smile, tears in your eyes and look up to see Dieter walk into the living room. 

“You called baby?” He asks, paint splattered all over him from painting the new nursery. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry. Can you- can you get me some ice cream?” You bite your lip, knowing he’s been run ragged with your cravings.

Dieter grins, shoving his hand through his paint flecked hair, although he teases that the gray is because of you and the babies. “What kind of ice cream do you want, babe?” He strides over and rubs your bump before dropping a kiss on your lips. “Rocky road or are you wanting that cheesecake strawberry swirl?” He knows you will probably text him with more cravings, but he doesn’t mind. You are carrying his baby and you get what you want.

You smile at him, loving how flustered he looks when he has to go get your cravings, and you run your fingers over the kids’ heads before they look up at Dieter. 

“Can we have ice cream, daddy?” Rosie asks, that pout she definitely got from Dieter on her face. 

Oliver nods, “yes! Vanilla.” 

Rosie shakes her head, “chocolate!” 

You giggle and look at your husband, “I’ll have rocky road. Guess it’s an ice cream day.” You say and the kids cheer, excited to have ice cream.

“Vanilla, chocolate and rocky road.” Dieter nods, smiling down at the kids. He could never deny them much and while they would be considered spoiled, they were very well behaved. “Oh-“ he snaps his fingers. “Before I forget. The management agency called. They found another renter for the house and said that the repairs for the house were minimal, just paint to freshen up.” 

True to his word, he had bought you a house, deeded it in your name and hired a management company to handle the day to day issues and repairs. All of the profits were deposited into a bank account that was solely yours, even though you had access to everything of Dieter’s. “So that’s a weight off before the baby comes.”

The money going into that bank account is going to pay for the kids’ college. You won’t use it for yourself, not when you are happily married to Dieter. “Yes. Glad they managed to find another tenant.” You smile, reaching for his hand to kiss the back of it. 

“Daddy!” Oliver rushes over to him after shifting off of the sofa. 

“Yeah, buddy?” Dieter groans as he bends over to pick him up. 

“Can I come? To get ice cream?” He asks and Dieter nods, “of course.” You smile, loving how close Oliver and Dieter are. You adopted Rosie and he adopted Oliver not long after you were married. It felt natural and meant to be. Your little family, complicated but perfect. 

“We will be right back. Rosie, you wanna come?” Dieter asks and she shakes her head, climbing onto the sofa. 

“I wanna stay with mommy.” You pull her close, “we can watch our show while the boys are out.” You tell her in a playful whisper and she grins. 

“We will be back soon.” Dieter promises and you smirk at him, “after ice cream, the kids need to nap. Mommy needs ‘nap time’ too.” You say to Dieter and he smirks back at you, “what mommy wants, mommy gets.” He promises, knowing he wants you to moan his name while the kids are asleep. From Rosie getting shoved into his arms on a random day, to having a family with a baby on the way. Dieter never imagined being a family man but now, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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

[itsgrimeytime]

The Nurse (Part One) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You'd always wondered where he'd ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.

TWS: Blood, gore, hospital setting, gun violence (just violence in general), swearing, all things typical of TWD.

It was an easy day. Or, it was supposed to be. Hell, you had dinner plans. But, working at a hospital isn't always so smooth sailing.

That day you'd just been doing routine, checking up on patients and running files back to the cabinets, taking tests to the lab. You'd just had a breath, eating some incredibly stale pretzels from the vending machine when your pager had started to ping.

And in a blink, there was a rush of feet echoing down the hallway.

"Holy shit," you murmured, launching to your feet, and tossing your trash out with ease. The murmur of frantic beeping and tones you recognized launched you into action.

Just as you poked out of the room, a gurney made its way through the hallway, doctors you knew following closely behind. A familiar stain of red grabbed your eye in the flash that you saw.

"Dr. Madison, what-"

Without breaking a step, they continued rushing down the hall, the man in the gurney, surprisingly quiet.

"Gunshot wound left shoulder," he answered to you, but also just kind of stated, "We're headed to OR 3."

"Is there any family?" You spoke, tone concerned, eager to help how you could.

"Yes, yes. The waiting room, his partner," Dr. Madison, "-police partner."

"Fuck, he's an officer?"

Dr. Madison didn't answer, as the man started to become restless, blue eyes becoming fuzzy. As you found yourself following the gurney, you weren't needed in the OR, but you'd always had a talent for calming patients.

With a look to Dr. Madison, he gave you a nod, and you made your way to the front, "Sir?"

There was a lot of noise, the murmur of machines, the spinning of the gurney wheels, and the tones of the different doctors discussing the amount of blood he was losing but you still heard it.

"Rick," he spoke, in a breathy southern drawl, "-call me Rick."

"Rick," you smiled, a little relief he seemed to be able to communicate, "Hi, Rick, I'm nurse Y/N. Do you-"

There was a breath before his eyes flicked around himself, widening and looking back at you - bright blues, "Where's... Where's Carl and Lori?"

You gently placed a hand on his, to calm him, "Is that your family, Rick?"

"M-My wife, and kid. God, where's my kid?"

"Rick, listen," you spoke, drawing his attention with your hands trying to keep him from moving so much, "-I will find them for you, okay? Your family is safe."

"Promise me, you'll find them," he spoke, breathy, and his eyes cleared of their haze for a second. The blue was like a clear sky; you felt as if he was staring into your soul, and your breath hitched.

"Promise me."

With an exhale, you spoke of your own accord, "I promise."

He leaned back with a cough, but there was some relief there, you could see it. You fell behind the gurney's speed, and felt a shake in your breaths, watching as it disappeared behind an elevator door.

"I promise," you breathed out solidly, and tried to shake the burn of his gaze from your memory.

That was two weeks ago.

Rick Grimes had been in a coma immediately after his surgery, well, after being put to sleep, he never seemed to wake up. Dr. Madison had with ease put him under your care, a trust that was added onto your list, but you hadn't minded, not really.

You'd met Shane first, out in the waiting room, eyes frantic and his hair sticking up from where he seemed to tug on it -his eyes latching on yours. There were a few officers by him, both with hands on his shoulders and they stayed there, as you relayed what you were told to him.

'Is he gonna be okay?'

You told him what you could, doing updates from the OR as soon as you got them. Within a few minutes, more officers had come in tow with a woman -tall, and pretty with brunette hair- and a young boy -the same eyes you'd seen in his father's.

It stuck with you for a second. The pure blue holding onto every word you spoke.

They stuck with you, even more, the hour that they'd confirmed his comatose state, the tremble of the two's lips, and the tone the son spoke to you.

"You have to take care of him," he muttered, eyes shining and watery, "-you have to save him, please."

And with familiarity, you spoke -warm and calm, "I promise."

Despite your promise, you watched as the weeks passed -the light filtering out of their eyes. Rick stayed completely still, the hum of his breathing being the only sound echoing out of the room. Carl, who you had come to know well, stayed as long as he could -talking about any and everything with his dad. Lori sat by his side mostly, holding his hand and rubbing a thumb across the back of it. Shane started at a distance but began to hold her shoulders as they looked at his sleeping face.

And by the third week, the news started to implode, and you were often needed in other rooms. News of airborne sickness growing within the hospital, within dead people.

Visitors weren't allowed in. All staff was kept in.

Rick was still in a comatose state, and all you had were phone calls with the family but eventually, they stopped too. You'd call, but the line was cut -you assumed no one was home.

The reports had stopped even going through, rooms locked with reanimated faces pushing against the glass - some faces you knew and others you never would. Despite the air of the hospital being much different than it once was, you took your duties as seriously as you could.

Patient by patient and doctor by doctor, the hospital began to be infested - no longer locked rooms, but locked wards, operating rooms, and boarded windows. One of the last days you were there, was the day you found Dr. Madison. His face was deteriorating, skin drooping, and blood dried up, god when did he die?

With an exhale, you boarded up what you could and primarily focused on your last patient: Rick Grimes. The world was crumbling around you, but you couldn't leave him -after frantically searching his body for teeth marks, you didn't find any. He could still live.

"It's going to be hell when you wake up, Rick," you spoke, voice scratchy and unused -hair slick with sweat, "-real fucking hell."

When you decided to leave the hospital, it wasn't an easy decision. Not when your morals were so set when your job wasn't complete, but you knew you had to.

So, that day (god only knows the actual date) you started gathering what you could, medicine, bandages, probably expired vending machine snacks, water, and some sort of weapon.

Originally, in the early stages, the hospital simply treated it like a disease- quarantining the sick, and going in with hazmat suits. You watched one of your coworkers get torn to pieces by a simple human jaw.

Then it was locking them in rooms, and drafting cure ideas -along with some intel from a few top scientists, it never quite got too far.

You'd done it first, cornered in the room you'd taken to be your own by one you'd known -a patient that had been there for months, just waiting on a new organ. She'd wanted to be an artist.

You'd cried for 3 days after that, blood smeared all over your face and your hands. They shook for a week after, and sometimes, you still saw the stains on your hands -even though you'd scrubbed it all away as soon as you found an available space.

With all the preparations, you returned to Rick's room.

It was still the same room it had been all those weeks ago, except for the drawn curtains and distant growls that echoed through the hall no matter where you were. Wiping away your eyes, you set to work.

You couldn't be there, but you would be sure he could survive without you. Gathering extra resources and enforcing the windows, your eyes fell on the man. He looked the same, except for the scruff on his chin; and suddenly you remembered Lori kept shaving it -each week she came in and paid extra attention to his skin. Carl and Shane would step out, it always seemed so intimate as she shaved his face - holding it as gently as she could and sometimes she'd be crying. Tears silently falling with the smooth movement of her hands.

You had left during that time as well, only saw in glimpses the gentle touch and affection. If his family was out there... he'd want to be clean-shaven. You owed him that much.

With a breath, you rummaged around in your overnight bag you packed what felt so long ago. It was for when shifts got long, and this one certainly has gotten long.

Finding a razor was easy, and grabbing a lotion from one of the old offices was even easier -they all had been sitting and smelt a little off but you figured it was the best you could do.

And with a shallow breath, you took the razor and shaved the scruff off, a more familiar face appearing in your mind. The motion so intimate it filled a craving in you that you hadn't yet identified. A pleased feeling that somewhere out there, his family would recognize him.

With a bottle of water and a snack left by his bedside, you stepped out of the room and set to make a defense. You locked every room you could, and at the end of the hallway, you boarded up what you could -grateful for the graffiti warning those of what was ahead.

With a breath, you turned around to head out of the hospital, and the fear that crept up your throat was nothing compared to the itching to escape the vicinity. The stink of the dead overwhelmed your nose, and you weren't even sure it could ever get cleared out. Not after being surrounded so heavily by the smell of rotting flesh.

The blood from the corpses that found themselves in your way wasn't exactly helping.

You half wished you'd brought that horrid-smelling lotion, just for something different.

With a gust of breath, you found yourself out of the hospital with blood-drenched hands and eyes clouded in a fuzzy survival instinct.

Inhaling the air in tremendous gulps, you watched the stranded city -eyes solidly on anything that seemed out of place. Your senses had only tripled, but the sun gently shining on your skin had made your body warm with something familiar.

Something you'd missed. Hope.

With a calming exhale, you turned back to the hospital with the sun in the sky and smiled, "Good luck, Rick Grimes."

A/N: Posting this with a plan of a series, but I guess that depends on the vibes and if people like it! Reblogs and comments are appreciated :))

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #twd #the walking dead #stuff n' thangs #nurse!reader #doctor!reader #apocalypse shit #the nurse #fanfic in progress #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction

[prismuffin]

Hey hey it’s me again lol. Can I request (Comic one where he’s an adult) Peter Parker x M!Reader who is a detective? Maybe he keeps visiting him during work and Reader has to remind him that he’s working. I want to thank you for taking my requests and I love reading your stuff. 🫶

A/n: awww this idea sounded so cute I love it😭 sorta a long one, im sorry?? idk if thats a bad thing

Distraction

Peter B. Parker x male!detective!reader

( summary: when your boyfriend Peter comes to drop off your lunch he decides to bother you for the rest of the day instead of leaving )

Warning?: light swearing, talk of guns, slight violence

!-!more under the cut!-!

After the events of spider-verse Peter had tried to fix his old life, make amends with Mary Jane and become the hero that New York needed once again, only it didn't entirely work out that way. He had tried to go back to MJ only to see that she was in a whole new relationship; he still talked to her though, told her the things he should've said years ago and she consoled him, told him to move on in his life and find someone new. So he did, he moved on and started working out a bit more, started showing up and stopping crime again which led him to meeting you.

You were a successful detective working for and with the NYPD, solving cases before and after they happen, so you hung around Spiderman a lot. You two would have playful banter whenever you crossed paths. You'd have silent competitions over who could stop and catch the most criminals (it was always gonna be him but you actually do give him a run for his money). He liked you more than he admitted. He was so scared of fucking up again that he just put this distance between you two, leaving his sly, flirty, playful remarks as the only sign of affection he could show you. He hit this rock bottom state again where the only thing he could think about was failing and you and failing you. He'd have nightmares about him not being able to save you, texting you at the dead of night with the number you gave him for emergencies to make sure you're ok. Sometimes you'd scold him for wasting your time or waking you up but he didn't mind. He was stuck in this spiral and one night he decided to stop feeling so conflicted and tell you about how he felt, and he did, just not in the way he wanted to.

You'd been tracking some criminals for months and finally were one step ahead of them, or so you thought. You caught them once but they weren't found guilty. The police station you worked at didn't classify them as a threat because of that and the chief made you drop the case since it seemed to have gone cold, but you knew they were the culprits. You watched a bar from your car, waiting for the men you've been looking for to come out. You needed to catch them in the act so you had decided to stake it out. The bar door opened and your hand went to your gun as you spotted the men leaving. You quickly made sure your gun was loaded before grabbing your phone, texting Peter, or as you knew him, Spider-man your location and what you were doing just in case. You told him if you didn't respond in fifteen minutes to come and help since you weren't entirely sure if you could take the men on in a fight.

Your hunch was correct when you'd in fact lost the fight you had no chance of winning, hell telling Spider-Man not to come save your ass until fifteen minutes into the fight was being very generous for the criminals. Although, Peters worry for you had made him come and help 8 minutes earlier than you said, I mean he would've come earlier if he'd seen your text sooner but still. It was that night, when he had in fact saved you, when he decided to just come clean about his feelings towards you, even if you rejected him; and so Peter decided to take that leap of faith and asked you out which lead to moments like this, where you’re sat at your desk, looking out your window to see your boyfriend on the building next to yours, waving with a lunchbox in hand. You sigh and shake your head, getting up and closing the blinds not only to mess with him but also for your own sanity before sitting back down and turning back to your paper work. Of course your silence only lasted a few more minutes before a knock was heard on your office door. "Come in." You didn't need to look up from your paperwork to guess who it was, "Guess who brought you lunch~?" You couldn't help but smile at the sound of your boyfriends voice. "Thank you Peter," You looked up at him and smiled as he placed a lunch box on your desk.

He'd turned to leave and was at the doorway when he looked back and saw you move the lunchbox off to the side. "Are you not gonna eat it?" You heard Peter ask and your eyes snapped to his before glancing at the lunch box. "I will Petey, I'm just very busy right now." You gave him a close mouth smile and he crossed his arms, looking you up and down before shrugging. "Alright," you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding when Peter just moved on, usually he'd bother you or someth-

Your thoughts were cut off by your paperwork being snatched from your desk. Peter, who'd used his web shooters to grab your paper, looked at you, almost disapprovingly. "You're not getting this back until you eat that lunch. Do you know how much effort I put into making that." You rolled your eyes, but smiled, and grabbed the lunch that he'd packed. He sat down across from you and wasted no time getting comfortable, kicking his feet up and leaning back. "Peter, this is a gyro from Frank down the street, you didn't make this." He looked at you, down at the gyro, and back at you before shrugging. "Still took a lot of effort." You shook your head at his antics "Unbelievable.." You mumbled before taking a bite out of the gyro. The tapping of your pens got your attention as you watched Peter play with them like they were action figures.

Even after you finished eating he wouldn't stop bugging you, poking your shoulders as you wrote and calling you overworked, which was true, but there wasn't much you could do about it. He was usually like this on slow crime days where he found there was little conflict on the streets of New York which would lead to him thinking about you and missing you and then showing up at your job either as Spider-man coming in to "address official crime business," or as Peter Parker to drop off his boyfriends lunch or to give his boyfriend a file he left at their apartment. Though times when he distracts you like this are annoying you still find them sweet since he does this when he misses you.

"Alright," You placed your pen down after being prodded by Peter for the 127th time. "If we cuddle on the couch for five minutes will you leave me alone to do my work?" Peter looked up and hummed to seem like he was thinking before smiling and nodding. "Yeah alright that's fair, but, lets make it ten minutes." "Fine." You got up and Peter cheered, practically leaping on the couch in your office. He opened his arms for you with a large smile on his face and you respectfully plopped right into them. You both let out identical sighs as you snuggled up into each other, your stress melting away as Peter rubbed your back. "ugh god, you're such a distraction Pete.." you mumbled with your eyes closed, the feeling of sleep creeping up on you. Peter just hummed, looking at you with adoration in his eyes. You both were definitely on that couch for longer than ten minutes but neither of you seemed to mind.

----!----

Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!

My requests are OPEN so feel free to request anything! Just make sure you check out my Request Info!

Masterlist

#peter parker #peter b parker #Peter b. parker #Peter b. parker x reader #peter b. parker x male reader #male reader #marvel x male reader #marvel x reader #peter b. parker x you #spiderverse x you #spiderverse x reader #x male reader #Peter Parker x reader #Peter parker x you #Peter parker x male reader #prismuffin

[faghubby]

Simply pegging

I was bent over the special bench Jennifer had bought. It had padding along the top and rings to tie or handcuff me to. I was naked and leather straps held my wrist as Jennifer pushed her strapon into my waiting ass. Jen had become very skilled at fucking my ass over the last few months. Her cock was 8 inches long and almost 2 inches thick. Every few weeks she seemed to buy a bigger one. I moaned as she fucked me with long slow strokes. My dick was already leaking. But Jen had placed a condom on it to catch any of my misplaced seed. I knew Jen was also recording this to post online.

It had all started when I suggested we try anal. Jen was hesitant but eventually gave in. To say she hated it is a huge understatement. Bit I had been caught up in it and didn't stop right away when she told me to. Hearing that you needed to relax and give it a moment at first. Well Jennifer was so passed she threatened to leave me and report me to the police. I begged her told her I was sorry and would do anything to make it up to her. She suggested that she got to fuck me. But since I was stronger she tied me down so I couldn't stop her. But it backfired. I loved it moaning and squirting cum all over the bed.

Pegging quickly became our main sexual position. I was easily on the receiving end 5 out of 6 times a week. It also changed the dynamics of our relationship. As Jennifer liked her new found control. The first time we got this pegging bench. She didn't fuck me, instead tied me and spanked me. Telling me I was her bitch now. Jen incorporated some spanking into out sex life. More as punishment for things I forgot to do. Or a argument I started. She would spank me with a wooden spoon or my belt before she fucked me. She often came while pegging me and if she didn't had me orally please her till she did.

But even straight sex became her on top, her in control.

Jen also wasn't shy about telling guest to our house what the special odd bench was for. And how much I loved my ass stuffed.

"We are going to be late" I said one evening as I waited for Jen to get ready. The look she gave made me think I would regret saying it later.

"You think it's so easy getting ready as a woman?" She asked. I fell silent not wanting to get in more trouble. She got up and walked over to me.

"Take off your pants" she told me. I thought she wasn't going to wait to spank me. I did as I was told thinking we are going to be really late. She had me remove my underwear as well. She then produced a black thong for me to wear. The look on her face I didn't argue. Just slid it on and put my pants back on.

"Now you can think about getting ready all night, waiting to see what will happen when we get home" we met up with some friends.

"Sorry we are late Paulie couldn't choose which type of panties he livked to wear" Jennifer stated. Which cause a big ruckus. After all they had all heard about the pegging and probably the spanking. So when. Gwen reached into the back of my pants and yanked the thong up although no one was surprised. It caused a new round of laughter and teasing. Jen wouldn't let me go to the bathroom to fix them either.

"Jen, don't you miss a real man just bending you over?"Larry asked.

"Well sure but it's so hot being in control" Jen replied. If I tried to add anything I seemed to be hushed. I also was not allowed to order a drink instead Jen declared me designated driver. I spent the evening being berated and ignored while they all got drunk. At one point Larry took Jen out on the dance floor. I sat there jealously watching how close they danced. At one point in the evening even losing track of Jen for about 30 minutes. I drove Gwen, Larry and some random guy home before heading home ourselves. As soon as we got in the apartment.

"I want you stripped down to your panties and bent over that bench now" Jennifer hissed. I tried to convince her she was drunk but she just got annoyed at my stalling. I did as she said. A moment later she squirted lube on my ass and thrust her cock in deep. I knew this was what our life would always be

[heisenberg-simp257]

may we get some post-Village Karl headcanons with his s/o, please?

how would he feel about interacting with other people and those who might try to flirt with him (or his s/o)

Sure!💖💖 Let’s see what I got

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Post-Village Heisenberg with his S/O Headcanons

-As I've stated in stories past, Heisenberg would struggle living outside of the village. It's all he's ever known, and it was quiet for the most part. Places that were more urban would certainly give him a culture shock.

-I think the man would definitely be anxious and tense around strangers. He isn't used yo dealing with so many people, so he would get overwhelmed.

-While he had a big mouth in the village, it was only because he had powers and was a designated lord. Heisenberg is rather quiet when he's out in unfamiliar territory.

-Plus, you forbid him from using his powers in public, leaving him to feel more vulnerable.

-If people start talking to him, he gives the vibe of "leave me the fuck alone." Heisenberg still has a temper on him, but he promised to try and be normal, which involves him leaving the situation without a word.

-Now, God forbid if someone tried to flirt with you.

-Apart from his powers, you were a constant reminder of life he was familiar with. That he was comfortable with. So, in his nature, he protects that at all costs.

-On a side note, I believe that Heisenberg feels the instincts to be extremely protective because of his upbringing. Almost like resource guarding in a dog. He just wants to keep safe the only things that have ever made him feel calm and happy. You were one of those things, even if he tried to stop himself from being overprotective.

-At home, he's a lot calmer. Heisenberg just needs you and a familar space. It'll take years for him to adjust to a normal life, but at least he has you for guidance.

-So, if someone tries to talk to you, innocent or not, Heisenberg's instincts take over. He becomes the man we all know, swearing and shouting and making "vague" threats. You have to get him to leave before police get involved.

-To be honest, a barking dog or the cry of a raven gives him PTSD. I mean, he has to have some type of trauma from the village.

#resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil imagines #resident evil headcanons #resident evil village imagines #resident evil village headcanons #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagine #karl heisenberg headcanons

[lollytea]

fuck yes worldbuilding for the Huntlow Neverland AU. FUCK yes. love everybody's deals they're so interesting. question: what's the deal with Hunter and Belos? and do you have any backstory ideas for Willow beyond her history with Amity (which i love)? it's interesting that her main friends seem to all NOT be fairies

I dont really know about Belos I don't care about him all that much. What I imagine is that he and Caleb visited Neverland as children. They were orphans and didn't have any other sanctuary besides each other but Neverland seemed like their safe haven. Caleb eventually met a wild and rowdy Lost Boy named Evelyn and he decided that he wanted to return to the mainland with her and grow up. Philip was hurt that his brother wanted to leave the life they had made for themselves here but he reluctantly returned home with them. Real life adult problems commenced, years and years of tension and built up resentment on Philip's end, maybe he got really into religion (???) Caleb and Evelyn got pregnant out of wedlock (???) I dunno, blah blah blah blah stab.

Philip returns to Neverland to hide from his guilt (and the police) and relive his glory days but all it does is fuck up his sanity and now he hates this stupid fucking place with all his heart and soul. Its no longer his escapist fantasy from his boyhood. Its a vile abomination. Its Hell and he needs to destroy it somehow.

He and the Collector have a very weird relationship. It's not really as personally antagonistic as Peter Pan and Hook but rather, Belos is the "bad guy" in the Collector's games, which he obediently plays along with (keeps him alive). However, the Collector is very insistent that games be fair and so, he grants Belos' requests that he always have a Special Player on his team so his chances of winning are better. It makes the games more fun that way anyway.

And so, every few decades, the Collector returns to the mainland to bring Belos his Special Player. Upon his request, its always a baby or young boy that he steals from the nursery of the Wittebane family.

(A family which now believes themselves to be cursed because they so frequently have their children stolen in the night.)

The boys never last long. Belos isn't careful with his playthings and they often die before they even make it to manhood. Sad.

(Also. For reference. The subject of "growing up" on Neverland is kinda slippery. In some variations, Peter was actually the only one capable of remaining young forever, while Lost Boys aged and died all around him. In some variations, everybody who lives on Neverland remains in an ageless state. What we are gonna do in this case is make aging a state of mind. You grow old if you feel old. And honestly, most Neverland dwellers do as time passes. Except King and the Collector. Although, time is very weird here. Sometimes a few years in Neverland is just a few weeks back in the human world.)

As for Willow, I imagine her backstory BEGAN with the fight with Amity. But after that she became a lot more meek and less confident because she felt discarded and unloved. This made it very easy for other fairies (Boscha) to make her a bullying target. Willow is clumsy, Willow can't always control her magic, Willow isn't as fast at flying as Boscha, Willow is this and that and whatever.

Things are tense when Amity appears in Neverland and Willow does not want her there. And then she actually becomes kinda friendly with Boscha which hurts even more cuz Oh. So you don't hate fairies? It's just Willow you hate?? Huh. Good to know.

Her confidence begins to gradually build again after some time spent with Luz, Gus and eventually patching things up with Amity. And then Hunter comes along and he makes her feel like the most wonderful fairy in Neverland.

#neverland au

[quanticowrites]

The Wrong One Pt. 2 (Timothy McGee x Reader)

•• I've decided to look through my old fics and find ones that I never finished. So here's part two of this fic, and be on the lookout for a Part 3! ••

“But Director-!”

“You’re not working this case, and that’s final.” Vance said, pointing at his phone. “If I have to put you on house arrest, I will.” You sighed.

“Yes Director.” He smiled, taking your hand.

“Hey, you’ll get through this. Gibbs and your team will figure this out. Head home and get some rest.” You nodded.

“Yes Director.” He chuckled as you headed out the door. As soon as you set foot out of the directors office you went back down to the bullpen and to your desk. For once you were thankful it was empty. Another case had come up and had taken some of the tension away from you. You grabbed a couple of things from your desk, including your I.D. Before heading to the stairs. You would have taken the elevator but you didn’t want to risk running into anyone from the team. Especially Gibbs, he’d somehow know what you were up to. He usually did. Once you got to your car and out of the navy yard you put on an old MIT baseball cap Tim kept in the back and pulled your hair up into it. You pulled up about a block from the crime scene and walked the rest of the way. Walking backwards under the police tape to make sure no one saw you enter his apartment. You grimaced seeing the blood stain on the floor. He must not have died right away…

“Focus, (y/n).” You told yourself. “Look for something to prove you’re innocent.” You searched every room, only touching things with the cuff of your sleeve. You couldn’t afford to leave fingerprints on anything. Something caught the sunlight on the floor beside his bed and your heart stopped. You picked it up with a tissue and examined it. “How in the hell…” It was a necklace, one that looked eerily similar to yours. You put it in an evidence bag you'd swiped from the crime scene van before heading back out onto the street. You got back into your car with a sigh. “I don't understand. My dna, this necklace, what's the connection?” You got back home to find Timothy waiting for you.

“Where were you?” You sigh, shutting the door behind you and putting your car keys on their hook.

“What? Are you going to accuse me of murder now too?” He blinked before standing from where he'd been sitting on a bar stool.

“(Y/n), you know I don't believe you did this.” He looked down to your pants pocket. “What's in your pocket?”

“Tim-”

“You went back to where the Lieutenant was killed, didn't you?”

“I have to prove I'm innocent, Tim.” His nostrils flared.

“What do you think we’re trying to do?!”

“Oh! So when it's anyone but me going out and proving themselves innocent it's fine?” You scoffed at the irony. “Gibbs has done it. Tony. Ziva. You. Nick. Ellie.”

“YOU’RE NOT THEM!” His voice cracked from how loud he'd become. You gritted your teeth. You and Tim had fought before. But never to this extreme.

“Fine.” You state, trying not to show Tim the tears you were fighting. “I'm going for a drive.” You turn and grab your keys again.

“(Y/n), that's not what I meant to-” You let the door slam before heading back down to your car as fast as you could. Tim would probably try and follow you this time. You quickly peel out of the parking garage and head out of the city. If you were going to figure out the connection with this necklace and your DNA, you needed a clear head and some fresh air. Somewhere the FBI wouldn't be breathing down your neck. Gibb’s cabin seemed like the best place.

Your eyes kept flashing to the rear view mirror. You weren't sure if you had a tail, or if it actually was someone that just so happened to have to go the exact same way as you at every turn. Maybe it was just your federal agent paranoia. You saw a dirt road coming up. You slowed and turned. You had no idea where this road went, but you'd have your answer if they followed.

“Fuck.” You cursed. You did have a tail. But now the question was, who was it? The FBI? Gibbs? Or was it who left the similar necklace at the crime scene? You floored it. Sending dust flying behind you and you hoped it would help cover your trail as you wound down the road, looking for another turn off. “Ah!” You gasped as they rammed into the back of your car. Letting off the gas and went in for another blow. You did your best to keep the car on the road. The next hit sent you into the ditch. You were thankful the airbag didn't deploy, but slightly concerned. You didn't dwell on it long before scrambling to get out of the car and draw your gun. The dust was still flying. You could see that whoever was in the car behind you was still behind the wheel. “Get out of the car!” You yell, pointing your weapon. “NOW!”

Tag list:

@stanathanxoox , @nikkiwierden , @malindacath , @havlindzk , @countrygal17a , @memyselfandmaddox , @octobersmog , @mizzezm , @diaryofafan17 , @emmitheacefangirl , @a-sad-excuse-of-everything , @marennnx

[ansbobcar]

When will this suffering end for my fanfic to beginnnnnn (big rant)

What I personally like when I write fanfics is expanding upon the universe given to me. In the case of Mashle, expanding and creating new spells in the power system while adding my own characters, probably expanding upon the other magical races that exist in this universe. SPOILERS FROM THE MANGA, ANIME ONLYS BE WARNED

Maybe I'm thinking too deep into this but like I don't understand howwww or when the Divine Visionaries (DVs) joined. There's either some sorta retcon plot from the actual manga to the fanbook to the wiki or something because... nothing is adding up?

It matters to me okay because I'm writing an Orter x OC fic and they're both DVs.

Let me show/explain to you the confusing plotholes/retcons that I don't know how to consider and hopefully by the end of it I can see through the fucking problem.

_ _ _

1. The DV inbetween Rayne and Orter who was killed

In chapter 77, Renatus Revol (the Immortal Cane) revealed to Mash that the DV before Rayne and after Orter was killed and it's implied to have been from Middle School Aged Domina (13-14). So roughly 2 years ago from canon.

This implies that Orter Madl is the 2nd newest (alive) DV from our current lineup. And we can also deduce that the age he started serving as DV is 20-21. BUT WE DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW WHO THE FUCK THIS MF IS?

The confusing thing is that the FANDOM WIKI (idk why I trust it still) states that Domina killed Orter's JUNIOR Alex Elliot(21) (according to the wiki) instead of a DV and basically after that BECAME A DV so that means he was over 20-21 when he became DV BUT HE'S 23 WHEN WE MEET HIM?? Let's assume he was 21 but that means his junior is older than him--YOU SEE WHY I'M CONFUSED????

__

2. Agito Tyrone and Renatus Revol (+ the other DVs)

The fandom wiki's trivia section which is the only fanbook (likely thing i've read) states that these two joined around the same time. There is a big problem though.

Agito is 22 and Renatus is 26. There's a 4 year gap between these two but they joined around the same time...

My logic tells me that if they came together as a pair, it wouldn't be possible for Renatus to have joined when he was 18 because Agito is in middle school. Meaning they would atleast be 19 and 15 respectively. If they came consecutively after the other that leaves the door for some more possibilities though.

However, it's majorly implied in the plot itself that in order to become DV you gotta be part of the magic schools and then later on compete in the Trimagicathlon to figure out who is the new DV of the year.

Like honestly, other than Ryoh, Kaldo (who I firmly believe to be 1st and 2nd longest serving respectively), Orter and Rayne, the others are just verrrrrrryy unknown placement wise.

Don't even get me started on Tsurara. SHE'S 20 AND IDK WHEN THE HELL SHE JOINED!!!!?!? The two ways to counter this is 1) she skipped some grades because as head/part of the Magic Research Administration you gotta be smart, 2) headcanon how many years she was in it even though she clearly joined before Orter somehow ;u;

Why does this matter for me? BECAUSE RINKA's (my oc) BACKSTORY NEEDS THESE MFS IN THERE.

___

3. So what do I have currently?

This is currently the only ass conclusion I could come up with (including Rinka) because shits just confusing man I'm gonna assume that they're like the JJK School system in which for high school they have 4 years instead so that 19-20 isn't unexpected. I kinda wish the plot had a sense of time. That's why and how it's possible for these ages to work (Sophina and Orter hitting 20 is probably to do with their birthdays or entering the year lower, idk man shits confusing). That means Alex Elliot... you're now 19 and a Divine Visionary instead of a Magic Police Cadet or whatever it's called.

_ _ _

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

#mashle oc #mashle x oc #mashle fanfic idea #orter madl #renatus revol #agito tyrone #divine visionaries #writing problems #for future reference #i'm too lazy to add the other divine visionaries cause they're kinda unnecessary #mashle manga spoilers

[mangoshorthand]

Before A Fall [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch 10 (Hard Feelings Part 2)

SUMMARY: As your life begins to grow around Five's, his attitude becomes a little sinister. When does protection become suffocation and when does taking matters into your own hands become betrayal? (weekly updates)

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve

There's some good news among all the bad, but can you still go on your 'date' with Harvey leaving Five like this?

Badly constructed scientific paper below. Proceed at your own risk

Chapter 10: Ditrico Pilot

Five was tapping away furiously in the IT department when the sound of gunfire erupted through the suspended tile ceiling.

“Shit. Those morons.”

“We gotta go help them,” the desktop was the room’s only light, illuminating Viktor’s face in a ghostly hue, “Do you have anything?”

“Nothing.” he said, through gritted teeth. “Not a fucking thing. I need more time!”

At a particularly deafening crescendo of automatic gunfire, Viktor pulled at him insistently.

“Come ON, Five.”

“I told them to wait.”

With a yell of frustration, Five allowed Viktor to pull him away, blinking out of his grasp when he heard Luther yell.

With a stroke of luck, Five appeared directly behind one of the gunmen crouched behind a desk, taking him by surprise. The guy and his comrades were suited and booted in a way completely alien to all their expectations: all wearing body armor like a goddam SWAT team and shooting to kill. Five broke his neck in less than a second, ducking behind the desk himself and taking the guy’s gun (an M4…for a soda company?).

Five popped his head out for the barest of seconds to take stock of the situation. Viktor entered via the stairwell, pressing himself immediately against the wall and behind the cover of a supply cabinet. There had to be twenty guys. Five ducked back behind the desk as Viktor’s eyes turned white: a targeted blast exploded through the room and took two of them off their feet. When the wave passed, Five blinked to Luther and Sloane.

“You guys Ok? What did I say?!”

Sloane, levitating a flailing goon, turned back to him,

“You’re gonna say ‘I told you so’- now?”

“FIVE!”

Luther’s panicked shout warned him just in time, drawing his attention to the guy on the floor with his gun aimed at Five’s chest. Five blinked across the room before he could pull the trigger.

When he re-emerged by the water-cooler, he felt impact that made him jerk his shoulder a little, but nothing else; he was intent only on getting rid of these guys and getting the fuck out of here. He raised the gun he took from the first one and shot the guy on the floor before spinning to aim at the critical mass of a guy a little behind him. After taking him down, he blinked again outside into the stairwell to regroup.

And then he felt the ache and the familiar rush of adrenaline. He was hit. He looked down to discover thick, dark blood soaking his shirt. He unbuttoned it hastily to inspect the damage. It wasn’t good but wasn’t bad either. The sight of bone worried him but he’d recovered from worse without the benefit of antibiotics. His ever-increasing pulse brought more and more blood. His mind, used to this, took on the ice-cool state necessary for survival. Ripping his shirt off the rest of the way, he tied it around his shoulder and the gaping maw in his chest, going under his arm and pulling as tight as it would go.

Patched up for now, he re-joined the fray, taking two guys out on his way to cover. He was planning his next move when flashing police lights from the windows caught his eye.

“I'm aborting this! We need to get out of here- now! ”

“Agreed!” came Viktor’s voice from somewhere in the room.

Digeo: Good news. Forwarded to 5 but thought I'd post here

It's the group chat, childishly named 'Umbrella Assholes' by Klaus. Below this new message is screenshot. It's an email from Holbrook. You only have to read the first sentence and you're already gaping.

Dear Parents and Guardians, Yesterday, we were informed of some good news by Ms Johnson, mother Alyssa. Following a scan earlier this week, Alyssa's doctors have confirmed a total and complete remission of her glioblastoma in response to treatment...

You type a response with fumbling thumbs, aware that Diego and Lila don't know everything that you all know.

Me: Wow! That's amazing. She looked so ill when I saw her!

It only takes Lila a couple of seconds to respond.

Lila: they'll need to do a shitload of monitoring but they're saying she'll be back at school soon 🤞🏽

Well…that’s something. At least Santi will be happy. It's so out of the blue- was the tumor shrinking even when you saw Alyssa the other day? When she'd looked so weak?

You sit by Five's side. He’s covered with sheets but Sloane had judged it best not to move him for the time-being. 

All the family have stayed overnight and intend to while Five is still ill. Occasionally through the night and this morning following, they had been to share your vigil. During Viktor’s two hour stint giving blood, he’d told you what happened.

“We found nothing. We got in ok and he’d got some way into hacking one of the main IT desktops but we didn’t even know for sure if anything would be on there. Their security is insane; took us by surprise. None of our reconnaissance suggested there’d be that many.” 

He’d sounded a little bewildered, like he was trying to justify it to himself.

“He’d just blinked away from one guy and right into the path of another one’s bullet. Into his shoulder from the back. Just a total accident. He wasn't even aiming at him.” he’d taken a swig of Gatorade, meant to keep his strength up while blood was being taken, “It was a mess.”

“They’ve got full armed security for a soda’s head office?” you shake your head, disbelievingly.

“Yeah. That's what makes me think we nearly had something.” As he looked down at Five, he’d continued, “We got out ok. He’d tied it up fine and he was conscious for most of the drive back. He just lost too much blood by the time we arrived.”

Sloane had reassured you he’d be ok. His face had regained some of the color it had lost, his paleness no longer death-like, but that he's still ill is obvious. He hadn’t really been conscious since the transfusion. A few times he’d groaned in pain, tried to tug at his I.V line or mumbled nonsense. You’d held his left hand down on these occasions, not wanting him to do any harm. Sloane, apparently trained in general medical care by Grace, was taking on the lion’s share of treatment decisions. She had been checking on him periodically and had seemed pleased with his progress. She didn’t expect him to regain true consciousness until at least tomorrow.

Late that afternoon, you’d been holding his hand, stroking his long fingers with your thumb and reading to him from Persuasion. Reading from the page he’d marked after Captain Wentworth’s letter, finishing the book and then started again from the beginning.

“Hey.”

You'd turned to see Klaus standing behind you.

“How’s he doing?”

“The same. I’m not sure if he can hear me or not.”

Klaus had looked at Five doubtfully.

“Oh…that sucks.”

He caught your eye, not speaking but mouthing exaggeratedly and making gestures like a bad game of charades.

“Me-” (he pointed to his own chest)

“-and you-”, (he pointed to yours),

“-should go-“ (he mimed walking),

“-talk-” (he snapped his thumb and fingers together like a crocodile)

“-in there,” (he pointed to the direction of the next room.)

So you'd followed him there out of Five’s possible earshot.

“Very subtle.”

“Just call me the master of mystery. Are we still on for this evening? With Harv.”

“Honestly, I’d completely forgotten.”

“Yeah. Not surprising. But I think you still need to do it.”

You’d looked through the door at Five. He’d got like this because he’d wanted to get to the bottom of it. But to leave him, like this, to effectively go on a date with another man? And this after plotting with Klaus just to get back at him?

“I can’t leave him.”

“But is there a better gift you could give him when he wakes up?”

“But if Alyssa’s cancer is gone, could it mean that-?“  but you were clutching at straws and had known it.

“Not sure that's a risk we should take." he sat down on an opposite chair, “He’s recovered from worse than this. You’ll be back before he even wakes up.”

"I...can't."

Then, Klaus had turned uncharacteristically stern - it was the hardness that all the Umbrellas can show on occasion: the one their father bred into them so ruthlessly.

"This isn't just about some pretty revenge on Five. There are still three dying kids; we made a commitment to them whether you like it or not."

As you met his eye, he'd softened, his usual self coming back as quickly as it had been overtaken. 

"If it makes you feel better, I can stay here until you get back. You don't exactly need me for this. I won't leave him, I swear. I'll...read him sudoku puzzles or whatever he'd like. Or I could read him that book?"

You'd smiled and sighed, thinking it over. 

"...Okay. I'll make it as quick as I can. No appetizers, no dessert. I'll get in, get the files and then get out. Even if I have to climb out of the bathroom window."

Klaus had put a warm, reassuring hand on your shoulder

"Good for you. Just be careful."

As you left the room Klaus picked up Persuasion and picked up where you left off. He gave Anne, the heroine, an accent best suited to a plucky cockney orphan.

On the way up to get changed, shaking your head at Klaus, you met Santi in the entrance hall. Hitherto, he’d been banned from the medical room. You’d all been concerned that seeing Five like this wasn’t beneficial to him.

“How’s Uncle Five?”

“A little better,” you smile at him, hiding your own misgivings.

“Good. Mommy called and said Alyssa’s better too!”

“Yeah- she’s feeling better but they’ll have to keep an eye on her,” you’d been wary of getting his hopes up about this. Sudden spontaneous remission of a deadly brain tumor seemed a little too good to be true.

“When she’s back at school, me and her and Anthony are gonna play together.”

“Who’s Anthony?”

“My friend.” he grins up at you and scuffs the tiles with the sole of his shoe.

“You’ve never mentioned him before. Is he a new friend?”

“Yeah. He was lonely so I went to ask him to play and he said yes. Now we eat lunch and play at recess.”

“You do? That was kind.” As careworn as you are, you can’t help but feel warmed by this, so you put a hand on his shoulder.

“You told me to.” he says, shrugging. 

“Yeah, but you chose to do it. I’m really proud little man.”

You had to sneak out of the Academy; down the fire-escape from your bedroom window. This was not easy dressed in a skirt and heels, but you’d managed well enough and only a little rumpled from the experience. Hailing a cab down the street, you’d felt a squirm of regret and guilt as you were driven away from Five, where he so needed you.

Now, you’ve arrived at the restaurant to find Klein standing outside waiting. He’s dressed smartly but you note that he isn’t carrying anything. You’d expected files so this was concerning.

He greets you, giving you a light hug and an air-kiss on the cheek. This is fine. Suitable for a ‘date’ between two people who don’t know each other too well. As he takes your elbow and steers you inside, however, you find yourself less comfortable. That’s a little too intimate.

You try to keep up your slightly flirty, fawning act, but you were preoccupied, your mind floating back to Five; his horribly pale face and livid wound. Luckily, Harv was a little too engaged talking about himself to notice your momentary lapses in conversation. Once he’s had a couple of drinks and your meals have arrived, you think it’s an acceptable time to mention the info:

“So, tell me how it went!”

“Jeff really came through. I don't think he knows how explosive what he's given me is. Never was too smart." he laughs, topping up your glass of wine from the bottle, “You were on the money. Mystery ingredient and everything.”

“Wow! Do you have…files or a pen-drive or whatever?”

“Digital and hard copies.” He winks.

You wait. When he doesn’t reply, you ask: “So…can I see them?”

“I left them in my car. I’ll hand them over after dinner. I didn’t want to ruin the meal with too much business talk.”

You smile, trying to mask your annoyance. Every minute with him is another minute away from Five. Harv continues to talk about himself: his career, his workout routine, what he said that made everyone laugh in a meeting that time, his favorite watch brand...

You answer politely, trying to seem interested. He eats so slowly. His mouth is otherwise engaged with the endless talk, so you end up with your plate cleared before he's half done. He breaks off when he notices you're no longer eating.

"Oh, I love a woman who clears her plate. I can't stand those girls who pick at a meal."

"...Thanks...I guess?"

Is he saying you're fat or 'not like the other girls'...or is he saying you're fat and not like the other girls? Of these options, being fat is  by far the best.

He laughs, "Oh, no I absolutely mean it as a compliment. You're...refreshing. So. What do you do in your spare time?"

Oh my God. A question about you?

"I'm a reader."

"And what are you reading right now?" he looks at you knowingly.

"A book called The Language of Buildings. It's at the cross-section of anthropology and architecture- it's about how buildings were a common language before mass literacy. Pretty interesting-"

"Ah- I knew you had a brain in your head. Thought you were going to say some godawful chick-lit romance novel."

Jesus fucking Christ...

"You're telling me you've written off an entire genre because women like it?" 

You hastily smile to mask the bite in your voice.

He holds up his hands in mock surrender: "No, I stand corrected. You're right, of course."

But his voice holds the certainty that you're not. 

When his plate is finally clear, you find yourself waiting impatiently for the waiter to come over. You'd rather argue all day with Five than be treated like a princess by this type of twat.

“Wow, I’m stuffed,” you say, trying to put off the idea of getting dessert before it forms in his head.

“Yeah, such great food. Good choice of restaurant.”

“Thanks.”

“You know," he takes a slow sip of his wine, "I’ve really enjoyed my time with you tonight. I feel like we click well.”

“Thanks,” you say again, trying to toe the line between quelling and encouraging him. Until you’ve got the files, you have to play nice 

After a coffee you’d drunk far too fast while he nursed his, you were finally able to pay the check and go. Outside, you'd said:

“So where are you parked?”

“Just across the road.”

With some misgivings, you’d followed him to the basement floor of a quiet multi-storey. As you walked together, his hand founds its way uncomfortably into the small of your back. Now, beside his car in the almost-empty parking lot, you're standing a little way back from him and beginning to get a bad feeling.

“Well, I’m excited to see these,” you say, trying to speed him along.

“Hold on a second. Otherwise I’d think you were only interested in the information.”

You laugh nervously. Perhaps you'd overdone it on the flirting. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You're alone at night in a darkened parking lot with a strange man who may have got the impression you want him. Erring on the side of caution, you let your tone sound a little cooler:

“Yeah, I had a great night.” 

He leans towards you, his arms moving to hold yours and you step away, unwittingly moving closer to the car.

“Er- no. I-I-don’t kiss on the first date.”

“Come on now. You’re a grown woman.” 

He grabs your wrists and moves his face towards yours again. You try to back off but you’re backed into the car.

“No!”

There's a man with his hands on you. Moving you. Maneuvering you. Taking away your agency. You smell your own blood pooled on the shitty carpet as you lie with your head under the table. Monroe looms over you, about to wrench your chair onto its legs again-

And then Five’s training kicks in. You twist your wrists in Harvey's grip and raise your knee, using it to push him firmly away from you, freeing your wrists. He stumbles back a few steps and rights himself

“Ahh! What the fuck?"

He brushes his torso down, looking over at you like you're something nasty on the sole of his shoe. For a moment, you're sure you hear the sound of someone shuffling in the shadowy corner behind you- or maybe it's the blood still rushing in your ears. Harvey reaches into his pocket and unlocks his car.

"N-no. Harvey! I'm sorry! I-"

"Just...just forget it.”

As he goes to open the drivers' side door, you feel your chance slipping away. You can't let it.

You raise clasped hands high and bring them down decisively on his head like a cudgel. It's perfectly executed: he crumples, slumping onto the asphalt with one leg in the driver's seat footwell. 

And there's the movement again: running footsteps behind you. You turn, still in a light-footed, hands-raised defensive posture. You're poised to fight off whoever might have been watching you from the shadows. Hell, maybe you even want to. 

But it’s Luther. You relax and turn your face warily back to Harvey.

“What are you doing here?”

“Wondering what my brother’s girlfriend's doing...sneaking out wearing high heels when he’s just been shot." His face is dark, voice shaking with suppressed rage. "Turns out she’s been seeing another man who tried to get too handsy.” 

“I’m-"

“He NEVER left you. When you were ill. He nearly killed himself just for the chance to save you. And this is what you do? This is how-” his voice fails him. He just throws his arms into the air with an angry growl, "and you'd cheat on him? You know what he’s been through! It’s-"

“It’s about JUICED!” you yell, panic and guilt squirming in your stomach as you clamour to justify yourself. Even so, part of you feels this was a betrayal... 

“What?”

“That guy. He's an ex-JUICED employee with a grudge. He says he has files on the mystery ingredient. I went on a date with him to get them.”

Luther looks down at Harvey and then back up at you. The explanation doesn’t seem to compute.

“Klaus and I- we’ve been working on it together. Only I think we’ve fucked up,” tears of regret and frustration come to your eyes, “He said he’d stay with Five so that I'd come. But I don’t think he really has them. I think he was bullshitting to try and get me into bed. I'm fucking stupid.”

You aim a kick at Harvey’s ribs. He’s still out cold.

“Oh.”

“He said they were in his car but I think that was just to lead me here.” you wipe your eyes. Luther walks over and puts his arm around you. He's heartfelt, if a little awkward.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…I know that you-” his voice trails off “let’s check the car anyway. Just in case.”

You dip your head into the vicinity of the drivers seat, a foot either side of Harvey. There's nothing in the glove box. As you feel under the seats, Luther's voice issues from the trunk.

“This looks promising.”

You look over to him. He's holding a brown file folder, tilted open. You nearly hit your head as you pull it hurriedly out of the car. Stepping smartly over Harvey, you rush to Luther's side.

“There’s papers and a stick drive in here too.”

You hold out your hand for the file and Luther hands it over. You pull out the first document: Holbrook Elementary: Ditrico Pilot

Back at Five’s side with a jubilant Klaus, you both pore over Harvey’s documents. Luther leans against the wall, observing with folded arms.

“I can’t believe it worked.” He shakes his head, as if to underline this, “We did it, all thanks to your tits! Go team!” You slap him five but shoot a guilty look at Luther. Returning his eyes to one of the documents, Klaus squints.

“Di-triberyllium colloid..." Klaus tries, tripping over the words, "I just don’t know if I can understand this compound if I can’t pronounce it."

“It’s probably why they shorten it to Ditrico.”

“It seems like old Cinco was onto something though,” he pats Five’s uninjured left shoulder, “The cancer seems to be accidental. There's no mention of it here. They probably didn't know.”

“Yeah.”

“They were just seeing if they could use some Frankenstein-chemical to make kids feel thirsty unless they drink JUICED every day…which of course is fine.”

You let out a snort of laughter: "it doesn’t rate very highly on a list of excuses.”

Klaus looks down at Five.

“You know, I’d have loved to rub this in his face, but when he’s out cold you forget what a dick he is.”

You grin,  "We should probably at least wait until he’s conscious before we really let him have it.”

You reach out and stroke his hair.

“Hey guys, can you step back? I need to change his dressings.”

You and Klaus get off the chairs and join Luther against the wall as Sloane pulls Five’s sheets back. Slowly, carefully, she exposes the partially stitched wound and begins to apply saline.

You hear a horrified gasp from the door behind you:

“UNCLE FIVE?”

You step in front of the gurney, as a pyjama-clad Santi tries to crane around you,

“Honey, stay back. He’s fine, he’s just got a sore shoulder. Auntie Sloane is helping him.”

But he dodges around you, and suddenly he’s clinging to Five’s head in as tight a grip as he held Alyssa. Five groans from the heavy contact.

“But he’s hurt!” Santi sobs, “He’s-really-hurt!”

Klaus intervenes, trying to prise Santi’s hands from Five’s head,

“You’ll hurt him even more, little guy! You-”

But he stops. You all stop. Klaus has spotted what the rest of you have been staring at.

Five's wound.

It's knitting. Visibly. As if fibres of sentient flesh reach for each other. Tendrils twist and stretch and cling, like plants growing in time-lapse. The movement is ghostly.

“Sloane…scissors” you manage. The area of stitching she added is starting to stretch the healing out of shape, puckering the flesh. She cottons onto your meaning immediately and cuts them carefully. When she’s done, there’s no evidence the wound was even there. The threads pull away from unscarred skin like dental floss.

You all stare. If not for the blood still dried on his skin, you might have believed you imagined the whole thing.

Then, you all turn to look down at Santi. He lets go of Five’s head and steps backwards, mouth agape.

“…Did I do that?”

You speak first.

“Biological matter…you can replicate…biological matter!”

Before the weight of this can truly settle, Five sits up.

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh, @nevbrooke-555, @theredvelvetbitch, @td-miley01, @five-hxrgreeves

Masterpost Alternatively, join me on AO3.  Here is a link to the whole series

#the umbrella academy smut #the umbrella academy five #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy x reader #umbrella academy #umbrella academy smut #umbrella academy number five #umbrella academy five x you #umbrella academy five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five imagine #five hargreeves smut #five hargreeves imagine #number five smut #number 5 imagine #number 5 #fanfic #ao3 writer #read on ao3 #tua fanfic #umbrella academy fanfic #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #number 5 x reader #number 5 x you #Hard feelings #Before a fall

[dailyanarchistposts]

The primary thought you must have firmly in your mind, keep in your minds forefront, when questioned by police is if they, your police interrogators, possessed a solid, airtight, open and shut case against you they would not be bothering to question you at all. When you are approached refuse to be question and immediately demand an attorney be present to advise you of your constitutional rights before any questioning takes place. In an ideal world, and by well, established law, at this point all questioning is supposed to stop but that does not always happen as “clever” ploys are used by police to get you to volunteer for questioning or be forthcoming with information that rarely benefits you, a suspect but furthers the goal of their investigation. Never answer any questions, no matter how innocent they sound, after you have invoked your right to an attorney. Do not respond to any question no matter how fucking tempted or how harmless you think it to be! When read the Miranda rights you were told anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law and that is precisely what it means. Anything you might say of even a microscopic incriminating nature will be interpreted as a major admission by creative minds which can and will be used against you. You can take that fact to the bank.

Police interrogators aren’t your friends! Don’t provide them with anything to use against you, only provide your basic statistical personal information such as name, age, address, birthday and social security! [Different states have different laws about what information one is required to give, check out you local laws.] They’re your enemy if questioning you! Volunteer nothing! Either you are a suspect, friends or comrades are suspects or they are attempting to gather information to be used against you or your associates in the future. Your best interests, for you as a person, is the last thing on their minds. They’re merely performing their government job. Don’t allow yourself to become frightened or worse still to be lulled into a false sense of security. If they assault you, you can practice the popular American martial art of “I Sue!” Politely listen to their games. Remain silent no matter how long questioning lasts and don’t allow yourself to be wore down with time, a favorite tactic employed by skilled questioners. Recognize their games and realize their societal job function is to lock you up, to clear a case file that may result in the destruction of your life, making you, your family and loved ones suffer, sometimes for months and in the worse scenario for years! Remain silent. Sooner or later they will give up questioning you altogether. They will move on to a weak willed person to manipulate into prolonged imprisonment.

There are two logical outcomes to interrogations. When questioning is done you are free to leave to join family, friends or comrades within the movement, a wiser, stronger willed soldier tested by fire, or you are locked up. If locked up, and you kept your mouth shut, as soon as possible as the opportunity presents itself after you request your one allowed phone call then call a bail bonding company or your lawyer. Your attorney will be pleased he/she has a client who remained silent and did not give a statement! Because of your wise silence your attorney may be able to perform the magic taught in law universities and colleges of law. Your attorney may be able to have the case dismissed in court later due to the lack of evidence at preliminary hearing if you are charged with a crime! If you have felt the need of confession other than to a priest then forget about lack of evidence dismissals. You volunteered so endeavor to enjoy your unique incarceration experience, dummy! Should there be other evidence against you (“Opps! Forgot my gloves! Fingerprints are Hollywood bull shit, right?!”) by choosing to remain silent you have expanded your lawyer’s defense strategy choices which may win your case in court in front of a jury made up of people of average ignorance. Those of you who immediately thought of the O.J. jury, shame on you!

Give up nothing! Give up nobody! Don’t let your mouth put your ass in jail! Retain your rights! Remember you have the right not to incriminate yourself! Say nothing you or your friends will regret later in court while facing a stern faced judge and anal retentive, irate government prosecutor!

If you stayed with me to this point, the following will be some shallow, laughable mind games they may try to play on you with all the intensity of a child examining the first insect they encounter! Remember the cops talking to you, cajoling you to bear your soul, clear your conscience, “make yourself feel better” by telling them what happened because they “understand” after you do will laugh in your face, later in their locker room howl with laughter with each other about how utterly naive and gullible you are, call you an ignoramus and various other things, pat each other and themselves on the back and then pleased with their day’s work go home to screw their wife, boyfriend or girlfriend and kick their dog, or vice versa.

After the interrogation is over as a just reward for your cooperation with these hardworking public servants who serve and protect the public, you will be led away to a filthy barren cell reeking with combined odors of sweat, body waste in liquid and solid form, stale tobacco smoke and hopelessness with dubious characters as your cell mates. You may have to fight to keep a food tray, a place to sit or sleep if you aren’t immediately bailed out, you may discover yourself in a struggle to retain your shoes, shirt or jacket from predatory social prisoners. Remember how you felt your privacy was violated when a bathroom door was accidentally opened by another person on you at home, office, workplace, or elsewhere? Well, prepare yourself to forfeit all privacy expectation when Nature calls and you must answer the call in the sight, presence or within arm’s reach of other hapless people! You may be forced to learn what it means to literally and figuratively stand your ground for the first time in your life in a jail or in prison. You may be forced to defend your sexuality, defend yourself against sexual predators or some people are forced to temporarily switch their sexual preferences becoming bisexual by circumstance to survive incarceration intact. Yell for help? None is forthcoming except in cases of extreme brutality or mutually combative situations as those who swore to serve and protect usually turn a blind eye to prisoners. If you confessed to police interrogators, aided with the crime investigation efforts, in an ill-fated effort to prove yourself intellectually superior to those questioning you stuck your foot in your mouth, you have condemned yourself with your own words, then you will in all likelihood, not pay the slightest attention to the following word of caution. Once booked, fingerprinted and slammed in a cell you should not talk about your case with those around you who may express interest in why you are locked up! Each prisoner willing to listen to your tale of woe is a potential threat of showing up in court to testify against you as a jailhouse informant or a cop put in the cell with you whose sole purpose was to gain confidence and solicit a confession! You may be a target so realize this fact and shut the fuck up! A classic example of this is years ago in the early 1980’s, a State prisoner in Tennessee named Gary Hartman confided to a cell partner, Raymond Frazier, about a murder in which he was involved. Frazier got with another prisoner, Kenneth King, and they, with the aid of prison officials, contacted the attorney general’s office and law enforcement, collected a $1,000 reward and Hartman was convicted and sentenced to death. After a decade plus on death row Hartman’s death sentence was overturned on appeal and he was sentenced to life in prison. Just like during W.W. I and W.W. II, loose lips sink ships!

If you made a statement you may as well be pleased with your lousy career, life and health choices since you have volunteered for a stint, however prolonged or brief, in your chosen hell by “cooperating” with police? Not exactly a Norman Rockwell picture, is it? I refuse to “sugarcoat” this description of a potential first confinement experience horror to save your sensitivity or cater to your squeamishness. I would rather shock you to serious thought by speaking truth motivated by love for my sincere activist brothers and sisters engaged in struggle against the monsters of the earth guided by their hearts and knowledge of what is right rather than let you find out the painful hard way and begin a nightmare which will rob you of your life, of your productive years, and the progress you could have made during those forever lost years to the struggle.

#acab #organization #revolution #anarchism #daily posts #communism #anti capitalist #anti capitalism #late stage capitalism #anarchy #anarchists #libraries #leftism #social issues #economy #economics #climate change #anarchy works #environmentalism #environment #solarpunk #anti colonialism #mutual aid #cops #police #gestapo #survival #interrogation #anarchist survival guide for understanding gestapo swine interrogation techniques #staying free by shutting the fuck up!

[drylan]

A Full Moon’s Night | Sequel: Wintery Woof

Ship: Dylan Lenivy/Ryan Ezraheler

Tags: Post-Canon, Werewolf!Dylan, Canon-Typical Violence, Flirting, Getting Together, Kissing, Past Character Deaths, Fluff, Hurt & Comfort, Survivor’s Guilt

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: Dylan and Ryan are the only survivors left from that dreaded night at Hackett’s Quarry. Unfortunately, Travis Hackett failed to inform Ryan of the existence of Silas before he was murdered by werewolf Laura. With Silas still alive and missing, Dylan remains infected, but Ryan refuses to leave him suffering in solitude. With an upcoming full moon, the now-abandoned Hackett’s Quarry becomes their haven.

“Home again home again, jiggity jig.” Dylan muttered to himself as the slightly dilapidated lodge came into view. The police tape from a month ago hung loosely on seemingly random spots of the lodge. A case gone cold. Lives gone but not forgotten. Regrets had. Pain to follow.

“Yeah, guess so...” Ryan parked the small rust bucket of a Jeep where the van once sat, primed for the camp counselors to go on their way just a month ago. The police had long since towed it away. “We have about 7 hours before the sun sets, so...”

“Right.” Dylan sighed, turning off the easy listening playlist that had accompanied their journey thus far to help Ryan bring their bags into the lodge. No bother in trying with the cabins. The lodge was sturdier and more central anyways. 

They didn’t bring much, mostly supplies to keep Ryan protected, non-perishable food, tracking gear, and sleeping bags. Well, there was really only a need to have one for Ryan, but Dylan appreciated the fact they packed a second one. Like it was just a little forest camp getaway for them, like Dylan was still human.

That thought was completely discarded as Dylan pulled a couple of small vials out of one of the bags from where they had set up in the lodge. Effortlessly, he uncapped the tops and sliced across his hand with a small, non-silver, hunting knife. The blood flew easily and he barely registered the pain. It would be cool, being so impervious, if he didn’t feel like a fucking monster and like he didn’t deserve his life.

“Three glasses of freshly squeezed werewolf juice, as promised.” He gave a lopsided grin as he passed the full vials to Ryan, who made a face.

“Gross, but, yeah, thanks. Your hand. Uh, it’s okay?” Ryan pointed towards his bloody palm.

“Yeah, yeah, already mostly healed.” Dylan tried his best not to remind himself or Ryan about the state of what he was, but with the full moon so close, all pretense was pretty much out of the window. “You said...7 hours before the moon, right?”

“Uh, 6 and a half now...”

“Right, right...” Dylan paused, nibbling into his bottom lip for a moment. “...that’s more than enough time for you to get to the Harbinger Motel, right?”

“Dylan, no-”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“That doesn’t matter. Look, man, we already talked about this!” The frustration was clear in his voice as the volume rose, Dylan’s increasingly sensitive ears twinged. It must have shown, as Ryan’s next words were quieter, gentler. “I’m not gonna leave you alone to deal with this. I’m not gonna do that.”

“Okay...” Dylan breathed out, decidedly not okay, but knew that nothing could convince Ryan to change his mind when he was this insistent. But still, the thought of hurting Ryan, after they both lost everyone. And it being Dylan’s own fault. It was terrifying to think of .”...just...I just don’t want to lose you, too. Like, I don’t wanna go all wolf on your face, okay? That’s-”

“You won’t.” Ryan insisted as he looped the tracker collar around Dylan’s neck. It synced up to a satellite, handheld GPS, the only type of tracking equipment that would work out here. It was normally used for hunters in the country who hunted with tracker dogs. They just hoped it worked for werewolves, too. 

It felt a little too good against Dylan’s neck. Wow, he really hoped this wasn’t awakening anything in him. “How do you know that?”

“Did you kill anyone last month when you turned?”

“What? N-No...” Dylan faltered. He hadn’t, to his own surprise. He last conscious memory had been Kaitlyn running away from him. It was for naught, in some ways, though, because she and Caleb had managed to kill each other later that night.

“And where did I find you in the morning after?”

“Um, laying next to a pond...”

“Exactly.” Ryan said, as if that explained everything and apparently Dylan’s confused expression was enough to prompt him to continue his explanation. “Listen, you didn’t kill Kaitlyn at the scrapyard, even though she was right there when you turned. You were well within running distance of people, you could smell and find victims if you wanted to. But something, even in that wolf-y brain of yours, drew you to a body of water. Towards pain. To keep other people safe.”

“So, you’re saying I’m bad at being a werewolf?” Dylan teased, hands on his hips.

Ryan snorted. “Yeah, you’re an awful werewolf. More like a sniffling poodle dog.”

“Ugh,” Dylan flopped down onto his sleeping bag and rummaged into another bag to begin nibbling on some chips. “...you know I’m a cat person.”

“Yeah, I know, and you’ll be able to see Toffee after we’re done here.” Ryan’s voice was soft then and it made something warm bubble up in Dylan’s chest. Ryan was definitely a dog person, but he had gotten a soft spot for that little ginger cat that Dylan held so dear.

He still casually flirted with Ryan since that night, but as the moon got closer, he had become more reserved within himself. Dylan prided himself on his self control. As much as he joked, he worked well with logic and under pressure, because he could always laugh things off or think things through on a technical level and make good decisions. But if he lost that control, became a monster...well, he didn’t want to think about it.

“Hey, chin up...” Ryan snapped Dylan from his thoughts as he flopped down next to him and buried his hand into the open bag, stealing a healthy handful of chips. “...after we get through tonight, which we will,, maybe we can make us official. Maybe...I’ll let you take me on that date.”

“W-Wha...wait, really?” Official, like boyfriends? Holy shit!

“Unless you didn’t mean it-”

“No, no, I totally did. I mean, I do! I just...wow.” Dylan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Did he somehow already turn and been taken out be a stray silver bullet or something? 

Between bites of chips, Ryan grinned, clearly pleased to have left the normally overly talkative Dylan speechless. “Yeah, so, I expect my date, you, to get through the night fine.”

“Aye-aye captain.”

After that, things got a little bit easier, calmer, between them both. They shot the shit, flirted openly, and once the alarm on Ryan’s phone went off to let them know it was an hour and a half before the sun completely set, Dylan felt far better about this whole thing that he thought he would.

Ryan drove him out to the middle of the woods, away from the main road and lodge, but not so far that it was outside Hackett territory. While Dylan stripped down to nothing but his briefs and tracking collar, Ryan wiped his face down with Dylan’s blood. 

Dylan could feel something lurch inside of him, leaning in close and sniffling at the other boy, before he caught himself and pulled back. “S-Sorry, you just...I smell good on you.”

“Yeah, you do.” In actuality, Ryan couldn’t smell himself and Dylan’s blood smelled like iron tainted with putrid wet dog. But he knew Dylan’s nerves were at an all time high and flirting with his now new boyfriend was a good distraction. “Remember the date, okay, wolf boy?”

“Date. Right. Movies. Or dinner? Hmm, maybe a picnic, or-or-” Ryan cut Dylan off with a soft, closed mouth kiss, Dylan’s own blood, mixed with Ryan’s sweat and scent, smeared across his face. “Or...whatever you want. F-For the date, I mean.”

“Whatever I want, huh? I think I like the sound of that...” Ryan nodded and then his phone chimed again. Half an hour left. Just enough time to get safely back to the lodge. “Be careful, okay?”

“Yeah...you too.” Dylan waved goodbye, feeling a bit goofy about the fact Ryan, a human, had not reassure him, a nearly indestructible creature. Not long after, as the sky darkened, he felt his body shake and tremble. He fell to his knees and his last conscious thought was the press of Ryan’s lips to his own, the other boy’s scent, before he shed his flesh and howled to the moon.

Farther away, in the safety of the boarded up lodge, Ryan crawled into his sleeping bag. Soon, howls echoed in the distance. Dylan. It was strange, how easily Ryan recognized that it was him. But he knew it was and the howl it...it didn’t fill him with fear or terror like all the howls of that night a month ago. No, it almost sounded fond, protective, kind. As much as a beast can sound kind, he figured.

As he began to settle in for the night, he let his were-boyfriend’s howl lull him to sleep.

🌙

In the morning, Dylan woke to find himself curled up into ball on one of the various piers around the camp. He was proud of his wolf self, who had picked an area far away from lodge or the main road, right near open water. He stretched and yawned, nearly jumping when he felt a gentle hand brush back his hair, but soon relaxed. “Ryan...” So, the tracker did work.

“Rise and shine, sunshine.” Ryan hummed and Dylan grinned in response, smile as bright as the shining sun. Or, maybe more appropriately, bright like a shiny, full moon.

#dylan lenivy #ryan erzahler #dylan x ryan #ryan x dylan #the quarry #the quarry video game #drylan #my stuff #fanfic #the quarry dylan #the quarry ryan #ryan the quarry #dylan the quarry

[lovekz]

infatuated (1)

synopsis ~ izana kurokawa is infatuated with two things. the adrenaline from illegal racing and getting into fights. you might become a third.

cw ~ stalking, illegal racing, weed usage, driving when under the influence

you walked out of the store, sighing in content as you opened the bottle of juice.

you had just finished having a study session with your classmate at their house, so you were on the way home.

“didn’t think we’d end this late. would’ve taken my car.” you muttered, starting to head to the bus stop.

there wasn’t anyone around, and you were in a pretty good neighborhood, so you hadn’t expected anything to happen.

but the three men a bit behind you made you weary.

you checked the wait time for the bus on your phone, chewing on your lip nervously.

what should you do? should you call your boyfriend? the police?

you cursed quietly as your phone cut off. they probably wouldn’t be able to make it on time anyway.

“hey.” one of the guys said with a cheeky grin.

you immediately bolted away from them, ducking into the alleyway before any of them could grab a hold of you.

you couldn’t believe this was happening to you right now, in your neighborhood.

as you were about to lose them, you heard another one yell ‘found her!’ to your left, so you ran to the right.

which just so happened to be an abandonded parking garage.

you ran up until you bumped into a girl, gasping quietly.

when she noticed you were panicked, and footsteps were following, she smiled at you and wrapped her arm around you.

“hey girl! i was wondering when you’d get here.” the lady smiled, pulling you closer to her.

“kenny! i found her!” she yelled behind her, making the quiet music turn off.

a man way taller and more intimidating than her walked over.

he looked confused and highly annoyed, but he definetly wasn’t looking at you.

‘kenny’ was looking at the men behind the two of you.

the three ran off in a hurry, muttering something along the lines of ‘shit! that’s draken!’

“you okay?” draken asked, dragging you out of your thoughts.

you nodded, feeling more safe with these strangers than the other.

“her phone’s dead. can we use your charger?” the lady asked, suddenly holding your phone in her hand as she lifted it up.

draken sighed, turning his head back, and then back to look at her with his hands in his pockets.

“your brother still has it.” draken responded, leaning against the wall.

the woman muttered something and looked at you with a smile.

“okay! let’s go get it!” she beamed, tugging you over to a black audi a few cars away.

just what the hell had you ran into when you ran all the way up there?

“i’m emma. you?” emma asked, tugging you between cars and pillars to get to the audi.

you state your name, trying to catch up and not stumble behind her as she walked insanely fast.

she hummed, smiling a bit more and stopping at the car with a proud grin on her face, making the person inside peek out.

“this is my brother, izana.” emma practically beamed, gesturing to the man with beach blond hair.

izana had beach blond hair covered most of his brown skin, leaving a curtain for his piercing empty purple eyes.

he was.. a bit odd.

“who the fuck is that?” izana asked, leaning back in the seat with a perfectly rolled spliff in his hand.

“zani be nice. she just needs the charger.” emma sighed, gesturing to his phone on the dashboard.

izana looked between the charger and you, muttering something in another language and gesturing to the passenger as he lit the spliff.

you looked at emma for advice, who only nodded and whispered ‘he’s harmless’ to you with a smile.

you nodded, walking around the car and taking a seat next to the man.

“i’m gonna go get some snacks from mikey. i’ll be back!” she giggled, wandering back to where she came from.

once she left, izana sighed and leaned back in his seat, holding his hand out.

“..hm?” you asked quietly, looking at the expecting hand.

“your phone. it needs to charge right?” izana asked, looking at the roof of the car with a confused expression.

you nodded, feeling your cheeks get hot with embarrassment. you placed your phone in his hand, and he plugged it in immediately.

izana leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes.

“what’s your name?” izana asked, sounding annoyed as he tapped his fingers on the wheel, inhaling and blowing the smoke out the window.

you said your name for the second time that night, looking at him.

“well sweets, i’m supposed to be racing tonight.” izana said, finally sparring you a look. a unreadable one.

“and you’re not about to interrupt that. ever been in a illegal race?” izana asked, checking his watch and sitting up.

your eyes widened as he turned on the ignition. he wasn’t serious, was he?

you shook your head, watching as he closed the car door and rolled the window down just a bit.

“get ready to experience your first one.” he said, pulling out of his parking spot and heading out of the parking garage.

~

izana drove you until the two of you pulled up to a almost empty highway. you were definitely farther from your house.

“you okay with this?” izana asked, looking at you and tapping your phone to see if it had turned on.

sadly, it didn’t.

and he finished smoking his spliff on the way. he guessed both of you couldn’t have what you wanted.

nonetheless, you shook your head, covering your face with a quiet sigh.

“it’s okay. just trust me.” izana said, taking one of your hands into his and making you look at him.

you nodded slightly, fixing yourself in the seat and taking deep breaths.

he rubbed the back of your hand smoothly, staying silent and studying your facial expressions.

a tap on his window is what alerted the both of you, making him pull away to look over at the culprit.

it was a man with blond hair, dorayaki hanging out of his mouth. he looked similar to emma, save for his dark eyes.

izana rolled his eyes, pulling away from you and clicking the button to roll down his window.

“oh. you got a girl now?” he asked, peeking over to get a good look at you.

izana’s head followed his, blocking your face from the blond’s view.

“fine. gatekeep her, i don’t care. how much are we betting tonight?” the man asked, finally biting into the dough between his teeth.

izana stayed silent for a minute, before putting up three fingers. the man’s eyes widened, before he laughed quietly.

“very confident tonight. you sure?” he asked, shooting him a cocky look.

izana rolled his eyes, laughing along with him. “i got a new spark plug. m’ feeling confident.” izana replied, leaning back.

the man nodded, before attempting to look at you again.

however, izana seemed to have known he was going to try again, so he blocked him quickly.

“fine. mysterious girl, my name is mikey. from the quick glances i’ve seen, you’re real pretty.” mikey grinned, before dashing away from izana’s hand.

you laughed quietly, looking at izana with a soft smile.

“what did that mean?” you asked, feeling izana’s eyes land back onto your face.

“what? you never got a compliment before?” izana asked, looking more bewildered than anything.

“no, idiot. the three.” you sighed, putting up your fingers the same way he had not too long ago.

izana let out a small ‘oh’ sound, not expecting you to have paid any attention to his conversation.

“300. s’ how much we’re betting for the race.” izana said nonchalantly, leaning back and opening his phone.

your eyes widened. $300 for some race they probably won’t even remember in the next month?!

that was beyond ridiculous.

before you could speak, two honks could be heard as izana’s engine came to life as he turned the key in the ignition.

“time to race, sweets.” izana smiled, pulling out of where he was parking to stop next to a girl with piercing blue eyes and almost white hair.

she walked up to the car and bent over, looking at izana and holding her hand out expectantly.

“hello to you too senju.” izana chuckled, leaning over on your side to grab his wallet out the car door.

“hi izana.” she said, rolling her eyes as she bounced on her feet impaitently. 

izana pulled out 3 one hundred dollar bills, placing it softly in her hand with a short smile.

“thanks for being the flagman tonight. zuha got sick.” izana said, resting his head on the window.

senju nodded, ruffling his hair and walking over to mikey’s car.

after a couple minutes, senju stood in the middle of the cars, hands on her hips.

“on your marks..” senju started holding a red flag in her hand.

“get set.” her voice grew louder, putting the flag up in the air.

izana started revving his engine with mikey, holding your hand as it sat on the gear lever.

senju hadn’t said anything, just throwing her arm out and letting it swing down/

that’s when the car started moving.

within seconds, izana and mikey were halfway down the highway, zipping through the little amount of cars that were on it.

izana’s hand held yours as he smiled big, switching gears and glancing at you as the car slowed for a millisecond.

then it accelerated even more than before.

“you trust me sweets?” izana asked, kissing the back of your hand momentarily.

you didn’t even know what possessed you to nod your head to him. to put all your trust into you him.

to practically give him your life with no questions asked.

“good.” izana grinned, turning the wheel harshly and shifting gears.

you’re stomach dropped as he basically threw the car into the small opening to get to the other side of the highway.

your head banged on the glass slightly as you spun, holding onto izana’s hand for dear life.

he let go of your hand and sped up, laughing at the half donut he made to get to the other side.

before you could even blink properly, izana had made it past senju one more, pulling his car to a stop.

mikey came in just a few seconds after, his eyes blown wide and shock and horror.

“you okay? didn’t hit your head too hard, right?” izana asked, cupping your head to check just a bit.

“i’m- i’m alright.” you said, panting slightly.

izana nodded, getting out the car and walking over to your door to open it for you and give you a hand.

you took it gratefully, stepping out of his car and losing your footing for a second.

“i gotcha.” izana muttered, helping you stand up properly.

“are you guys okay? shit- izana that was dangerous!” mikey said, looking over the both of you.

izana laughed, pulling you into a hug, and rubbing your back.

“we’re alright. ain’t that right, sweets?” izana asked, pulling you out of his chest and looking at you.

you nodded, laughing just a bit. now that you’ve basked in the adrenaline, you had so much fun.

you gasped out of realization, looking towards izana’s car. you forgot you had to get home!

“oh shit! your phone!” izana said, letting you go to go and grab it.

he came back, your phone in hand. you took it from him with a smile, turning it on to see multiple messages from your study buddy and your boyfriend.

“zana, you gotta take me home. my boyfriend is worried.” you said, sighing in frustration.

izana blinked a couple times before nodding. “yeah- yeah of course.” izana said, looking around.

“mikey tell emma to zelle me my money. i gotta get sweets home.” he said, punching mikey’s shoulder and walking to the car.

mikey let out a loud noise of pain, holding his shoulder and whipping his head around to look at you.

what the hell had gotten into him?

~

when izana pulled up to your boyfriend’s house, he was silent.

it was almost as if he wasn’t the same person kissing your hand not too long ago.

“can i have your number?” you asked quietly, looking over to him and showing your phone.

izana leaned back, looking at you, then back at the road. not one thought behind his eyes.

“you have a boyfriend.” izana said, gesturing to the house he was double parked in front of.

“what does he-” “isn’t he worried? you should go.” izana said, cutting you off with no effort.

he was watching a car that was outside of the house. you recognized thatt car, but it was too dark to see the license plate.

“go, y/n.” izana said, unlocking the door for the fifth time that minute.

you sighed, getting out the car and walking to the front door.

you hadn’t noticed, but izana definitely knew who owned that house and that car he was next to.

he couldn’t be your boyfriend, could he? there was just no way.

#izana kurokawa #izana x reader #tokyo rev x you #Tokyo Revengers #tokyo revengers izana #fluff #tr fluff #emma sano #toman mikey #mikey sano #manjiro sano #draken

[mobscene-awards]

RULES & GUIDELINES.

The Awards were one of the most wonderful, nonsensical parts of the original Mob Scene’s run. All of us are aware it’s impractical, and would never happen in any real-life city, especially one overrun by monsters. Nobody is going to willingly offer up a ‘Biggest Villain’ award to one of the mob bosses without fearing for their lives, and nobody is going to get ‘Biggest Drug Addict’ without the police going, ‘wait, hang on a fucking second…’ It’s simply an event that exists for the fun of the players, and we always had just that. It’s an excuse for characters to get a giggle out of voting their friends for stupid awards before we get to play them out attending what became the most beloved social event of the Launceston era. Nobody takes it seriously, and bragging rights are the only real prize.

To make sure things run smoothly, however, there are a few rules and guidelines that one should consider throughout the process.

Any and all voting should be cast in character. This means just because you, the player, happen to think a French bro is deserving of the ‘Best Sense of Humour’ award, doesn’t mean that your lovely, anti-St. Clair, Russian loyalist is going to feel the same way. It’s kind of pointless making it an in-character event if you’re just going to vote for what you want as the player.

Please don’t vote for yourself, you vain little bitches. This is especially applicable when you have multiple accounts. Don’t use them to bolster the vote count for your other roles. Do not use multiple characters to vote for your ship.

Please try to make sure you meet all of the voting deadlines. This is important for my sanity, most of all. This applies both to the preliminary round in which the finalists are picked, and then the final vote. If you can do it as quickly as possible so I can even get a bit ahead, I'll love you even more, because I'm running on an incredibly tight schedule this year as I've had to bring it forward a week.

Please pick one name for every category. If you fail to do so, your entire ballot will immediately become void. I won't chase you up for a replacement answer. If your character doesn’t happen to know anyone in the finals for ‘Biggest Heart’ then just pick someone at random. Never leave a blank space. It ruins overall totals, and makes me miscount things.

You are allowed to vote as multiple characters. As stated earlier, you are allowed to vote from multiple characters. In fact, it’s encouraged that you do so! The more votes there are, the happier an admin I become.

Keep an eye on the updates. Although it isn’t compulsory to track it, I will be posting updates under the tag ‘2024AwardsUpdate’. You will be able to find these updates on the page itself under the category of ‘news’. This will be where I post deadlines, and general information about the event itself, the after-parties, best-dressed requirements, and other things that you’ll need to know to get the most out of the occasion.

The most important thing of all, though?

Have fun!

Remember that this is only meant as a joke. If your character doesn’t make it into any of the final categories? Have them throw a tantrum, have them make snide remarks about how the awards are bullshit, or perhaps graciously applaud those who beat them out. How they react is entirely up to you! But please never take it personally on an out-of-character level. It’s not intended that way, and it is never an attack on you as a player if your character comes up short in the vote count. ♥

#2024AwardsUpdate

[garciaasfluffypen]

Hi, May I please request:

An unsub has reader as a hostage and JJ and the team have to negotiate to get her back safely, as they trade off, the unsub shoots reader in the neck (JJ shoots the unsub) but she survives. (JJ is rs wife, r is also a BAU agent.)

hostage 

wc: 1.2k pairing: jj x f!reader  warnings: rape insinuations, gun mentions, sexual assult insinuations, toxic (past) relationship mention, general assholery, reader gets beat up, reader is drugged, shooting, reader gets hurt, happy ending, un beta’d writing

a/n: i put elle on this team because i am a firm believer that elle would fight to the death for you bc she’s protective af and since jj is technically supposed to be on the sidelines, we need her. she doesn’t have a big appearance but she’s there. also, this guy was inspired by lewis from svu but hopefully he ended up not as creepy as him, its been a sec since i’ve made up an unsub for writing purposes 

it wasn’t every day you found yourself being held hostage by a spree-killer. 

you and the team had been hunting him for months, following him around the states, being lied to countless times by him and the people he knew until you found yourself in a dive bar he frequented out in alabama. you had to admit, you were a little nervous, but it was something you had handled before, you’d be fine. at least, you thought you would. but somehow he had drugged your drink, and you woke up in a place that was unfamiliar to you and a pain in your lower half that you hadn’t experienced before. 

that was a week ago.

had it been a week ago? time had gotten so muddled since don - you can’t recall if that’s actually his name or not - had continuously pumped you with whatever low priced narcotic he found out on the street when he left you in the barren lake house. you could hear people outside sometimes, but you were so god damn tired you couldn’t find it in you to scream out for help. not anymore. you had already attempted to get out twice and he had caught you both times. the first time, he had gotten home earlier than you had anticipated and had beat you up so bad you still couldn’t see out of your left eye. the second time he had booby-trapped the front and back door, making it impossible for you to get out without falling into a trap, but you didn’t know that until you were actually in his trap.

you honestly would rather die than live another day here. 

it was late on what you believed was day eight of your capture when you heard the rustling of don coming in through the front door, and you braced yourself for whatever it was that was going to happen. it wasn’t pretty. you had gotten used to the pain at this point, it had become a daily part of the routine. don would come back drunk and you were his toy that he could hit and shove and push around and do whatever he wanted to. you let him, knowing that if you fought back it would be the end of your life. and you couldn’t die without saying bye to your wife. 

your wife. jj. the absolute love of your life. it had felt like years since you had last seen her, your last words to her being “it will be okay, i love you.”. it hurt you to think that you didn’t even say goodbye before leaving her. for all she knew, you were dead in a ditch and you didn’t even say goodbye. at the very moment, that hurt the most. 

you missed her so fucking much. she was so gentle with you, making sure you knew everything your toxic ex partner had drilled into your head was wrong, and that yes, you were the complete opposite. she made sure all your laundry was clean when you came home from working extra hours at the office, always remembered to pack your favorite bath soaps that always made her smell like lavender since she stole them from you. it was one of your favorite things about her, and god you just wanted to be back in her arms again.

unbeknownst to you, back at the police department, jj and the team were fighting to get you back. penelope, bless her soul, had found a few loopholes to jump through to figure out everything and anything about don, finding out who he knew, how he knew them and where the team could find them. 

“penelope” hotch looked up at the screen. “we don’t have all day.”

“right, yes sir. sorry. he has a lake house in a run down part of town, address should be on your tablets now.”

elle gave jj’s hand the biggest squeeze she could muster as everyone ran to the gear room to get suited up, promising jj they’d do everything they could to get you alive. jj knew she wasn’t supposed to be coming, but she pushed herself into one of the cars anyway and nervously fiddled with the necklace you gave her for christmas the past year as the team rushed as fast as they could to the house where you were. 

don was in the middle of beating you up when you heard the sirens getting closer, and almost cried tears of joy. they found you, you were going to be safe. that was, until don grabbed you and yanked you out the front door, holding you up by your neck as he put a gun towards your head. through your good eye you could see your team fighting for you, but the ringing you heard overtook whatever it was they were saying. your heart fluttered as you saw jj standing there, held back by derek and hotch. everything was mumbled and you were so tired, you just wanted to sleep. sleep sounded so good right now. maybe you’d be able to sleep soon-

you were tossed to the ground abruptly, your head hitting the ground as you rolled a few feet. there were two loud bangs and suddenly the ringing got louder, and there was a warm feeling on your neck. moments later, jj ran up to your side, practically sliding on her knees as she reached your body laying in the middle of the lawn. 

“baby, baby hey, it’s me, hey, stay with me.”

you did your best to look up at your wife, a small chuckle falling from your lips. “i never got to say goodbye to you.”

“don’t say that. don’t you dare say that, y/n. you’re gonna live, you’re gonna go to the hospital and you’re going to live. you’re not dying on me.” 

“i left without say-” you cut off as you choked on your own blood. “goodbye.”

“shut up. shut the fuck up.”  jj pushed the hair out of your face. “don’t you dare say goodbye to me.” 

you let out a shuttering breath. “i love you, baby. bye.” 

then the world went black. 

                                                             -----

a steady beeping noise lulled you slowly from your slumber, light making its way slowly through your closed eyelids. your body felt heavy, almost as if you were buried underneath a pile of rubble for the past two years. it was a bit of a struggle to open your eyes but you got them open, your head turning to the side as much as it could before you saw your wife hunched over your bed, asleep. hotch sat in a chair in the corner, definitely looking like he needed sleep. the newest stephen king novel was in his hand, but you weren’t sure if he was even paying attention to it. you sniffled a bit and hotch looked up, a small smile forming on his face.

“welcome back, agent. how are you feeling?”

“shit.” was all you managed to get out as your eyes fluttered. “dry.” 

“let me go get you some water, i’ll be right back.” 

hotch patted your ankle lightly as he walked out of the room, the movement jostling jj from her sleep. her head perked up as she looked around, blinking a few times before noticing you were awake. she sat up and scooted closer to you, her hand curling around the good side of your face. 

“i’m so mad at you right now.”

“hm.” you blinked slowly, hoping the emotion in your good eye was showing. 

“but i love you.” 

you slowly lifted your hand to cradle your wife's, a small smile forming on your face. 

“love you too.” 

#jennifer jareau x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds one shot #an i (queue) of 187

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Ayato Dark [Epilogue]

ー The scene starts in front of the Sakamaki manor

???: Ahーah. He really went all out again. 

Yui: ...?

*Rustle*

???: Everything alright? Are you hurt in any way?

Yui: ( Who is this guy...? )

I’m fine...Anyway, who are you...?

Kino: Ah, right, I have yet to introduce myself, don’t I? My bad. My name’s Kino. 

Yet another son of the almighty Karlheinz...In other words, I guess you could say I’m the Demon World’s Prince Zero. 

Yui: Karlheinz-san’s...son...?

( Then, this guy is also...One of the guys’ brothers...!? )

( But that was never brought up even once up until now... )

Kino: I don’t blame you for being surprised, but don’t you think we should move away from here first?

ー They can hear a siren in the background

Yui: ...

( A police car... )

( Right. Last time Reiji-san skillfully handled the situation. )

( But things will get sticky if the police and a bunch of lookie-looks show up. )

( It’s not like they’ll believe us...if we say that someone’s magic went out of control... )

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: Y-You guys...! Wake up! We have to hurry and...

Kanato: ...

Laito: ...

Yui: ( ...It’s no use...Seems like everyone is still out cold... )

Kino: No need to panic. Just leave it to me, okay? Hey gang! I’m leaving the rest up to you!

*Whistle*

ー A bunch of ghouls arrive

Yui: ( ...Who are these men...? )

Monologue

The group of men, 

which arrived on Kino-kun’s command,

lifted the Sakamaki brothers on their backs without speaking a word. 

Escorted by Kino-kun,

I also left the place. 

While the only thing on my mind,

was Ayato-kun’s sudden disappearance,

for now I had no other choice but to go with him. 

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to Eden

Ruki: I see. Good job. You may leave now.

*Flap flap flap*

Ruki: ...

ー The others walk up to him

Kou: Huh~? What’s wrong, Ruki-kun? You look awfully conflicted for some reason.

Azusa: Did that Familiar just now come to report something...?

Ruki: Yes. It appears that trouble has occurred in the human world.

Yuma: The human world...Don’t tell me those Sakamaki’s fucked up again? 

Ruki: Unfortunately, that is exactly what happened.

Yuma: Haah? For real? They’re just as hopeless as ever...God...

Kou: So? What happened exactly?

Ruki: Apparently Sakamaki Ayato’s powers went berserk again. As a result, the manor was flattened with the ground once more...

Kou: ...Ahーah. Didn’t they just finish rebuilding it too?

Yuma: That guy never learns, does he...? Will everythin’ be ‘kay with an heir like that...?

Ruki: Of course, that is what we feared. That is exactly why that man’s younger brother, Lord Richter, willingly offered to head to the human world to become Ayato’s mentor, however...

Kou: ...Lord Richter did...?

Yuma: Are ya sure that’s a good idea? Didn’t that guy plot some shit with the Founders before...?

Ruki: That is what had me worried as well. Therefore, I was actually just about to send my Familiars over to the human world to check up on the situation. 

But what could have happened over there...? I believe I will have to look into the matter. 

Kou: Yeah. I just hope it’s nothing serious. 

Like he got a bit too overly excited and it was just a mere slip of the hand~? 

Yuma: Ya don’t blow up a whole manor from a lil’ ‘slip of the hand’, do ya?

Besides, since he’s the heir to the throne, that makes him the current Vampire King, right? 

So can he really be fuckin’ ‘round like that...? There’s a bunch of shit goin’ on over here in the Demon World too.

Kou: How should I put it? Sure, he might officially be the ‘King’, but right now, Ayato-kun reminds me more of the guy from the ‘Emperor’s New Clothes.’ (1)

Ruki: The Emperor’s New Clothes, huh? You might not be too far off...

Ever since Karlheinz-san’s passing, Eden has been decaying.

The current situation shows that the current King - Ayato - is still mentally unstable. 

Azusa: We don’t know what happened but...I wonder if Eden will return to normal...once Ayato-san learns to keep his calm...

Ruki: I...can not answer that question either. 

Eden is a place which reflects its owner’s state of mind. 

If Ayato truly has what it takes to become a King just like that man was by finding peace of mind again, this place should return to its previous state. 

However, the problem is whether or not he...

Kou: ...What’s wrong?

Ruki: No, it’s nothing. Anyway, I’m going to head out.

ー Ruki walks towards the door

Yuma: Headin’ out? At this hour? Where are ya goin’?

Ruki: Yes. There is someone I must meet as soon as possible. 

I might not return right away, but I will send a message through my Familiars if something happens. 

Kou: S-Sure...Gotcha...

Azusa: Be careful, okay...? 

ー Ruki steps out into the hallway

Ruki: ...This time around, I am not very confident in the situation either.

Is this truly the right course of events...?

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) 裸の王様 or ‘hadaka no ou-sama’ which literally means ‘the naked King’, is the Japanese title of the popular fairytale ‘The Emperor’s New Clothes’. It is also used to describe someone who, despite their high position, does not know how to set their own priorities and has a warped version of reality. (Just like how the emperor in the story would spend all his money on clothes)

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ayato sakamki #lost eden #diabolik lovers translation #leayatodarkepilog