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sharkrocket · 1 year

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THE SUPER SCUFFED THANATICA LABS MODERN AU

There is so much groundwork that me and my partner failed to cover/did not think about, but I think we're going to just lay out what we have and just build upon it as more solid ideas come to fruition, so here we go

THANATICA LABS

Research corporation funded by the Powers That Be(?)

Dedicated to defeating death by prolonging life

Akin to Black Mesa or Aperture Science - Unethical experimentation going on behind the scenes

-----

DANIIL DANKOVSKY

Maybe not the founder? Maybe lead researcher?

Maybe founded it when it was a small lab and was bought out by The Powers to greatly expand funding?

Not exactly on the level - HAS done and WILL do shady things again

KNOWS what he's doing is illegal to some extent, but he tries to wash his hands of the dirty work (alleviate some guilt maybe?)

Hands the recruiters a list of requirements for his new hires (potential lab rats), lets them do the searching and he'll conduct the interviews

I have no idea what these requirements are

Sometimes the lab assistants go missing, he doesn't know anything about that, don't ask him

He LIKES his designers clothes - SOMETIMES it comes from Thanatica's grant money, SOMETIMES it's a few hundred here or there, BIG DEAL

-----

ARTEMY BURAKH

Studied in the Capital or IS studying in the Capital, and is in SO SO SO much debt

Is having trouble getting work because nobody is going to hire a surgeon with no ACCREDITED experience (cutting up bodies in your dad's unlicensed clinic does not count)

Looking to expand the medical practices of his provincial studies(?)

Maybe father has an illness(?) Perhaps Isidor suffering some kind of debilitating disease called the sand pest?

Was contacted by Thanatica Labs for a low level Lab Assistant position - It's Thanatica Labs, of course he's going to respond, that's a lot of money for an entry position, and he's going to have his name attached to a prestigious establishment

He's hired - Is under the pretense he can save up some money, maybe get some lab experience to eventually propose his own research somewhere else

Alternatively, went to university, left university to go home to tend to family business, came back to the Capital to resume studies and is looking for ways to expand his thesis?

Keeps his head down and minds his own business, the less he's under the eye of the lead scientist, the better

Doesn't mean he isn't talking to people and keeping a watchful eye - things are happening that aren't adding up, and it isn't just the grant money

Because he's so desperate for a job, it may mean he's more agreeable to participate in some of Thanatica's shady dealings

-----

THEIR RELATIONSHIP

This is so stupidly long, continued under cut

Daniil interviews Artemy and is so rude and condescending about it

Artemy is either biting back insults or being too sassy for his own good

Artemy gets the job either way, but it's VERY funny to imagine that Artemy failed the interview UNCONDITIONALLY, but was hired anyway under the pretense that Daniil didn't expect him to stick around for very long

"He's so handsome, shame that he's such a dick"

"He's so handsome, shame that he'll be medically indisposed for the sake of research"

Artemy figures out Thanatica is doing illegal experimentation but somehow despite this, it sort of falls in line with what Artemy is hoping to accomplish with his own studies (untested and unproven methods of healing that haven't been approved by any board)

Artemy decides to do his own experimentation behind Daniil's back

Daniil smells something suspicious, equipment and samples are missing (its his lab, he WILL get to the bottom of this)

He's been watching the new hire closely (assessing his potential for experimentation), eventually finds out that he's been performing experiments of his own with methods he's never seen before

Wants to put him under a microscope (literal) --> Wants to put him under a microscope (figurative)

Their confrontation can go a couple ways

Daniil approaches Artemy and offers him the resources to continue his work in exchange for doing some underhanded deeds to progress Daniil's own research

OR Artemy blackmails Daniil with the evidence he's gathered in exchange for resources - Daniil is largely unfazed by this, but sees Artemy's morals aren't exactly on the level either and he finds him very interesting so he allows him his resources in exchange for dirty work

Laughing at the idea that Daniil finds out that Artemy has no accredited experience and he lied on his resume to get an interview - Now he's even MORE desirable for underhanded work (thank you inkpot-demigod)

This would be the point Artemy is bagging bodies

Starts off with superficial antagonistic attraction (purely on looks, otherwise has disrespect for each other, condescending and rude) --> eventually develops into mutual respect for each other's work (cordial, maybe even friendly, "oh god why do they keep looking at each other like that") --> eventually develops into unprofessional workplace relationship (they are fucking in places where they definitely have no business doing so)

-----

"can we have artemy need a place to stay and daniil offers a space in his apartment and artemy packs him lunches to take to work. daniil thinks he's being subtle but just the fact he's eating lunch... all of his coworkers Know"

At some point during the relationship (most likely early on) Artemy mentions that his lease is ending and he's going to need to spend time looking for an apartment (or suggests that he needs to find a roommate to save some money because BOY DOES HE NEED IT)

Daniil IMMEDIATELY blurts out that he has space in his apartment (HE IS NOT JEALOUS, THIS IS JUST THE MOST ECONOMIC AND REASONABLE CHOICE, HE IS THE LEAD RESEARCHER AND HE CAN AFFORD A NICE SPACIOUS PLACE THAT HAPPENS TO ACCOMMODATE TWO)

It's closer proximity to the lab

They can keep discussing things in the privacy of his home

Not that Daniil NEEDS to save money, but having some extra is a plus

Artemy makes meals, food just APPEARS and Daniil never has to think about it

Co-workers are noticing that Daniil is ACTUALLY bringing lunches and eating food, hmmm very suspicious.....

Eva (lab receptionist, more on this later) notices the two of them coming into work at the same time in alarming frequency both carrying lunches and she's like SUSPICIOUS EYEZOOM

-----

"if the kids are involved with this i think it'd be kind of funny if daniil and artemy are desperately trying to hide the fact that they kill people but the kids definitely know that they kill people"

Not sure if they can live in Daniil's apartment if Artemy and Daniil have a living arrangement - Could be frequent visitors if Artemy is living there

Not sure about their relation to Artemy - would love to have him be uncle to his brother's adopted kids but this might get complicated

The kids are savvy enough to know about fucked up corporations, they are doing some MURDER in there

"Are you a mad scientist?"

"No pumpkin, I do very important research to extend the human lifespan"

"Oh…. That means people are dying in there right?"

"……."

-----

"i'm having a vision of daniil wanting to properly court artemy after a few trysts but he doesn't communicate this very well and he also has very little experience with this so he invites him to a fancy dinner or maybe even a gala and artemy is clearly out of his element the whole time and daniil is trying to make this work and its NOT... if anything artemy thinks daniil is trying to pull some power move on him AND THEN. at the end of the evening when daniil is trying to charmingly flirt and do a kiss, artemy is just like. what are you DOING and they do at least SOME communicating. its a START. this au is a murder romcom"

Daniil coming to terms with the fact that he's so gay for the new hire, oh god he's so gay, who allowed Artemy to be so handsome AND intelligent AND clever AND funny what the hell

He keeps looking in Artemy's direction and Temy thinks he's scrutinizing his work, but god knows Daniil needs to get ahold of himself

He has an idea: Invite Artemy to the next charity gala, show him off to some higher ups, thus giving him the opportunity to sing his praises, and Artemy should get the idea, then later in the night have some drinks and who knows

Daniil extends the invite to Artemy, Temy thinks he's getting some kind of promotion, so he agrees

The event is way bigger and way fancier than Artemy was anticipating, Daniil is showing him off to a lot of executives and Temy is trying to hold his own here - If this is some kind of test, he's going to wring Daniil's neck

"Why is Daniil being so flattering, is he making fun of me"

The two are finally alone and Daniil is sitting where his leg is bumping into Artemy's, he has his hand on Temy's thigh and he's leaning in so, so, so close and Temy panics - Not that he doesn't have his share of attraction to his boss but what is he getting at here? Some kinda power move? A cruel test? Blackmail?

They have been misreading each other this entire time and the both of them are UNBELIEVABLY embarrassed

Time to talk things out and admit some things to each other

-----

SOME LOOSE MUSINGS ABOUT OTHER CHARACTERS

Eva Yan

Receptionist at Thanatica, maybe specifically for Daniil's office/lab whatever

The only thing that matters is that she always sees Daniil and Artemy going in and out of the place

Privy to a lot of gossip and goings-on of the place, knows about some of the shadier stuff but she's far from put-off

In fact, she wants to be Daniil's next experiment and he is not having it

Dresses like "I have to go to the office but I'm going to a music festival at 6" boho chic

Yulia Lyuricheva

Works for the government helping to orchestrate shady evil things but she's not actively invested in being evil this is just a job where she can apply her mathematical genius

Eva of course goes on about wanting to be an experiment and neither Eva's enthusiasm nor the fact that Thanatica is so shady is surprising to her

Clara

She doesn't have to be here but if she is here than she runs around Thanatica like a rat and no one knows where she came from

She claims to be an experiment gone wrong but really she is just a girl in need of some caring parental figures in her life

Lara Ravel

In the city on a revenge mission to kill Alexander Block for the death of her father

DANIIL AND LARA MURDER SPREE WHEEEEEEE LET THEM HAVE IT I WANT IT

I have no idea how to make this happen

Block

Thanatica is not surviving this one Dankovsky oooooo it is not surviving

Head of the military operation to destroy all evidence related to Thanatica's experiments?

Roles of other characters unclear..... To be determined....

THANK YOU FOR READING THIS TEXT DUMP, MORE TO BE ADDED IF WE THINK OF IT

#Pathologic #Daniil Dankovsky #Artemy Burakh #Burakhovsky #Modern AU #I told you it was stupid

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katyswrites · 1 year

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don't call me 'baby'

PART 3 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, allusions to sex

Wordcount: 6.1k

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

PART 3 | this path is reckless (and I like it)

Six o’clock finally came torturously slowly, the minutes on the clock passing like molasses. At five minutes-to, the bell above the door rang, and Steve strolled in. He caught your eye to where you stood behind the counter, and nodded. You shot him a small smile, but felt your stomach turn - whether it was excitement or anxiety, you couldn’t quite tell. But, you couldn’t deny that you were happy to see him. You felt stupid, considering that he had explicitly said he wasn’t planning on asking you out - but, what else could it be?

As soon as Steve saw you making your way over, he smiled briefly, before nodding to the chair across from him. He already had ordered two coffees - one for himself, which he was halfway through, and a cappuccino, right at your seat.

“Hey there,” you said, feigning a casual and friendly air as you sat down. “Oh, um, thanks - you really didn’t need to order me anything.”

He shrugged. “I figured you might be tired - I took a wild guess about what you liked, though. Don’t feel like you have to drink it if you don’t want -”

“No, it’s great,” you assured. “I could probably do with a pick-me-up, anyways. Long day.”

“Okay, good,” he said. It was silent again for a moment, both of you just pretending to be incredibly interested in your drinks instead of each other, waiting for the other to say something. You already knew that this wasn’t a date. But, even worse, it didn’t feel like one at all - it felt more like a business meeting, between two strangers. Then again, isn’t that what you were?

You could only stand the anticipation for so long - you were many things, but patient wasn’t one of them.

“So… what did you want to talk to me about?” you asked. “Is this about last night? Because, i was pretty drunk, so - if you didn’t want me to kiss you, I’m sorry, that was my fault… I might’ve misread things, but if you aren’t interested, that’s fine - you’ve been more than nice, and I didn’t want you to think that I -”

“Why are you living in Italy?” he asked.

Not what you expected. Still, it was fair enough - beyond tourists, you were probably the first American he had encountered here.

“Oh - well… that’s kind of a long story.”

He shrugged again. “I’d love to hear it, if you want to tell me, that is.”

You thought for a moment, placing your mug on the table as you decided exactly which details to disclose to him.

“Well… my home life… let’s just say, it wasn’t great. I grew up in a tiny town in upstate New York, and… I mean, I knew I always wanted to get out of there. So, I applied to colleges as far as possible - mostly big cities, like New York, Boston, Chicago, even out in California. I didn’t plan on leaving the States, necessarily - but I applied to the American University of Rome, just for kicks, since I knew they offered a U.S.-accredited degree. I didn’t think I’d get in, let alone actually go. But, they made a great offer - basically a full ride. And, it got me as far from home as possible. So I left, and never really looked back. And now, I only have one semester left, which is pretty crazy, but… I’m glad I did it.”

It felt nice, to actually get that off of your chest - Robin was one of the only people you really ever talked about this stuff with. There was a lot still left unmentioned, but it still made the man across from you seem less like a stranger, like someone you could maybe trust.

“Was it hard? Moving to a whole other country, I mean?”

He was asking sincerely, but you were still wary as you answered.

“Yes, and no,” you admitted. “There was definitely a culture shock - I had to learn a lot about the city, the people, and a whole new language. But, it really is great here. And, I’m glad I found Robin - someone from home, kind of. But, it’s been… a lot of work.”

He raised an eyebrow. “In what way?”

You sighed, measuring your words carefully.

“I’ve done pretty well in school, but I didn’t know that Rome was one of the most expensive cities in the world until after I moved here. I mean, I scraped together most of the money I had just to buy my plane ticket. And, campus housing was expensive, so I bounced between hostels and friends’ couches my first couple of years, until I was able to save up a little. That took a bit, too - turns out Italy doesn’t have a set minimum wage, either. Who knew right?”

You chuckled dryly at that last part, and winced inwardly - that was far too much information, and he didn’t need to know any of that. You thought again about the money he had sent, how he casually had a personal driver on hand, the clothes he wore - he probably pitied you, couldn’t even be bothered to consider you as a -

“Is that why you have two jobs?” he inquired. There’s only sincerity behind his question, like he was truly trying to understand.

You nodded slowly, meeting his eyes. It occurred to you then that this felt like some strange job interview - well, a job interview with a man you drunkenly kissed on the sidewalk the night before. You shivered at the memory.

“How old are you again?” he asked.

“Twenty,” you replied, recalling his age from his I.D. - he had just turned thirty, if your math was right.

“Jesus,” he whispered, mostly to himself. He leaned back in his chair, brow furrowed. You noted how he was fidgeting a bit with his fingers, shifting in his seat - was he nervous? Why?

“Okay, I guess I’ll just get to it,” Steve conceded, leaning forward again. He folded his forearms on the table and leaned it, his gaze focused on yours. He was ramping up to something, but nothing could have prepared you for what.

“What if you didn’t have to worry about money anymore?” he posed, his voice low and steady.

You furrowed your brow, confused. You felt your stomach flip again, you mind racing to a million and one implications.

“I - what?”

He sighed, running one hand through his hair as he gathered himself.

“I - Jesus, okay, this is harder than I thought. I’ve never really done this before, so just, bear with me, yeah?”

You frowned, but nodded, giving him a moment to continue.

“First of all, don’t apologize for kissing me. I mean, I was really hoping you would,” he admitted.

You felt something flutter in your chest, and fought with everything you had to keep your face neutral.

“You - you were?”

He nodded.

“Yeah - I mean, not that I was expecting it, but - I wanted to. But - earlier, you said something about me not being interested in you… that’s not true.”

You wanted to jump up and down with glee, but you couldn’t help and feel that there was a big but coming.

“- but, I’m not exactly looking for anything right now. Well, anything serious. I just… a relationship can’t happen for me, not right now. And, I don’t know if that’s going to change anytime soon. I’m only in Italy until the end of the summer anyway.”

You felt your heart sink in your chest, like a balloon deflating. There it was - it explained a lot.

“Oh,” you said softly, doing your best to not let the disappointment bleed through. “That’s fine - I get it, really. Thanks for letting me know -”

“Wait, it’s not just that,” he explained. “I - fuck, okay, give me a second here. I was thinking of having an… arrangement, with you.”

You cocked an eyebrow, sitting up a bit straighter in your chair.

“An arrangement?” you echoed.

“Yeah,” he said. “I - I want to keep seeing you. But, with an understanding - that there wouldn’t be personal feelings involved, it’d just be something fun, for you and me. And, maybe you could occasionally be my date to work events, galas, that sort of thing.”

You kept your face as stoic as possible, taking in what he was asking. But before you could formulate a thought, he continued:

“And, in exchange… I could help you out. I can give you a monthly allowance, conver all your major bills, student loans, if you have any… and, if there’s anything you want to buy yourself, like, new shoes or something?”

“What makes you think I want shoes?” you bristled, suddenly becoming defensive as you truly started to comprehend what he was proposing.

“Nothing!” he exclaimed, backtracking. “I’m just saying that… if there’s anything you want, I can take care of it. To thank you, for your… discretion.”

You felt your face heat, the blood rushing into your cheeks and roaring in your ears. Here he was, a man you were only just getting to know, asking if you wanted to be his… his -

“You wouldn’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, of course,” he added quickly, his own cheeks starting to twinge pink. “I mean, I’d never pressure you into anything - I wouldn’t do this if you didn’t consent, I mean.”

“And if I don’t consent?” you asked, your words coming out as more of a snap than you intended.

“Then I’d leave here, right now, and you’d never have to see me again,” he assured. “And, I’d send you another sum of money to at least cover your rent for the rest of the year, for even insulting you with the offer. But… I do think this could help both of us.”

You bit your lip, grabbing a paper napkin from the table and twisting it in your hand.

“Can it? I just… I feel like you’re not the kind of guy that needs to pay for sex. I mean, what’s in it for you?”

He hesitated for a second, and it occurred to you that he’s nervous, perhaps more than you.

“It’s not just sex,” he admitted. “I mean - it’d be nice, to have someone kind of consistent, and to know she wouldn’t expect anything. That’s the point of the agreement, I guess. But also… you saw who I work with. They’re always on me, about being ‘married to my work,’ all of that. So -”

“You want me to be your arm candy?” you finished bluntly. He turned just a bit more red at that.

“I wouldn’t put it like that, but - yeah, basically. After that stunt at the restaurant… I think they’d respect me a lot more, to be honest.”

“And you think I’m pretty enough for that?” you asked dryly, mostly to yourself as you laughed inwardly at the idea.

“Yeah, I do,” he whispered.

You froze for a moment, caught off-guard by his response - and, you hated how it made something warm bubble inside your chest, especially in the given situation. You just nodded, tearing at the napkin in your hand.

“Can I just ask you one thing?” you posed.

“Sure, anything.”

“Why don’t you want a relationship?”

His eyes widened, like that was the last thing he ever expected. Something unreadable passed his features, and he thought for a moment before replying.

“Honestly? I’m really busy. HNL is working on expanding through Europe - or, in Brenner’s words, dominate. And, I’m trying to work my way up to CEO - I think I have a good shot, once he retires. Having someone… it’d distract me. And, I don’t think it’d be fair to her, either - I can’t fully commit the time, not right now.”

It was an honest answer, at least from what you could tell. Still, what he was proposing… It seemed crazy. Too good to be true. If he had taken you home last night, and just made it clear it was a one-time thing… you would have let it happen. You knew that with near-certainty. If Steve had just become a fun story to tell one day, that would’ve been fine by you. But this…

“Can I think about it?” you asked. He nodded vigorously.

“Yeah - yeah! Of course. Here -”

He handed you his phone, pulling up the blank contact form on the screen.

“- put your number in here. So you can get in touch, if you make a decision, or for… whatever.”

You took it from him, typing out your full name and phone number with shaky hands. Your palms were sweaty, the weight of what he wanted from you.

When you handed it back to him, he glanced down, and stuck the phone back in his pocket.

“Great - well, um, I’ve kept you long enough after work -”

“Oh, yeah - I should probably get home, anyways. I’m on dinner tonight, for me and Robs.”

He stood when you did, chairs scraping on the floor as you stepped away from the table, leaving two empty coffee mugs and a napkin torn to bits.

“Let me call my car, to drive you home -”

“No,” you said firmly. “I - I want to walk for a bit, actually. To clear my head, if that’s alright.”

He just nodded curtly, and you both just stared at each other for a moment. It was awkward now, like you were now leaving the job interview not knowing if you felt good about getting the job. Do you hug? Should you just leave?

You opted to shake his hand, extending your hand towards his until he took it. It felt strange to do that, but before you could dwell on it, you were mumbling a rushed talk to you soon, and running out the door.

As soon as you were out of sight of the coffee shop, you let out a deep exhale - this could not be your life. But somehow, it was.

As you walked down the cobblestone streets, you became convinced that the whole interaction was in your imagination - perhaps you were still dreaming, and your alarm clock would wake you up at any moment. That was, until, you heard your phone ding:

Maybe: Steve

Hey - this is Steve. Steve Harrington, in case you forgot - I realized you probably also need my number, right? Have a good night.

Jesus, he writes texts like a dad. A grandpa, even. You stared at the message for a moment, reading it a few times - yes, this was real. You took a moment to add the number to your contacts, typing out Steve Harrington slowly. Then, you stuck it in your bag, and continued on your walk, doing everything you could to not check it for the rest of the way.

Your walk home was nearly an hour - reasonably, you should’ve taken Steve’s offer, or at least the bus. But you charged ahead, breathing in the air as dusk started to overtake the day, the sky darkening to the telltale hues of pink and orange. Summer was beginning to show its face, the days stretching just a bit longer, the warmth just a bit more persistent, creeping in as spring met its final days.

It was your favorite time of year - just before the true heat of summer set in, the promise of bright days ahead and winter long-dead in its grave. And thankfully, it meant darkness was only truly settling in when you reached your apartment - you had arrived there on auto-pilot, spending your whole walk home thinking of Steve’s offer.

You were bouncing back and forth, between telling him to fuck himself, and jumping at the opportunity to take everything he had to offer you.

When you walked up to the third floor and jostled the door open with your keys, the apartment was dark - indicating that Robin had hardly left her room all day. But, you needed to talk to her. You needed someone else to tell you that this was insane, outlandish, unbelievable -

When you knocked on her door, you were met with a muffled hmmm, what?

You opened her bedroom door slowly, only to see Robin under her covers, her room still dark. She was only illuminated by the light of her phone’s screen, where she was no doubt doom scrolling for the last few hours, if not all day.

“Hey, you,” you whispered. “How’re you feeling?”

She groaned, sitting up in bed.

“Only marginally better. But, I think I’ve taken the legal limit of ibuprofen, so I have to wait the rest out.”

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“I would say I feel bad for you, but I’m not sure I do.”

She chucked a pillow in your direction, narrowly missing your head.

“Asshole,” she grumbled.

“Love you too,” you replied, sitting on the edge of her bed.

Robin rubbed her eyes, yawning.

“So, how was work?”

Jesus - how were you supposed to answer that question?

“Oh, uh - good, I guess. Well - okay, if I tell you something, will you promise not to freak out? Because like, I really need your advice here.”

“Uh, yeah, okay - that’s totally not ominous.”

“Well, you know Steve?”

“Our savior, you mean? Yeah. I mean, he did bring us back last night, right? I didn’t make that up?”

“No,” you confirmed. “You didn’t. But, before you found us last night… we kind of made out.”

That got Robin to sit up straight, looking more alive than she had all day.

“Oh? You made out with moneybags??? And didn’t tell me?”

“To be fair, you were incapacitated.”

Robin rolled her eyes playfully, then held up her hands defensively.

“Yeah, okay, whatever - well, did you get his number or something?”

You sighed, gathering yourself as you figured out how to answer that question.

“Well, kind of - not last night. But, he came to visit me at work today… I kind of told him where I worked last night while we were talking.”

Robin’s eyes widened, and she grinned.

“Wait, he showed up at work? Oh my God, he’s into you -”

“Not so fast,” you said. “I - he asked to meet with me after my shift. So, I did, and… well, he -”

“He what?” Robin asked, clearly impatient. “Did he ask you out? C’mon, you’re killing me here -”

“He offered to be my sugar daddy,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out. It was the first time you had said it out loud, and it felt ridiculous to even put it that way. But, that’s what it was, no matter how you sliced it.

For maybe the first time in her life, Robin had no words. Her mouth hung open, and you could’ve sworn you saw her brain reboot as she comprehended exactly what you just said.

“I - I’m sorry, what?”

“Well, that’s basically what he offered. Maybe there’s maybe a better term for it, but -”

“No, no, you need to tell me exactly what he said,” Robin demanded, crossing her legs on the bed.

So you did. You explained every detail of Steve’s offer, as best as you could remember, watching how every version of disbelief and awe passed Robin’s face. It was only after you were done that she spoke:

“So, you’re doing it, right?”

You stared at her, eyes wide.

“What? I - I thought you’d tell me it’s a terrible idea -”

“Girl, no - I mean, think about it. He’s offering to pay you, enough that you don;t have to wear yourself down with work anymore, and you’ll get laid? It’s a win-win. Besides, I don’t even like men, and I can acknowledge that the guy is pretty easy on the eyes. I mean, we’ve established he’s not a murderer, right?”

You shrugged.

“I think so - he told me his full name, knows that I told you everything - if he’s a murderer, he’s one who's looking to get caught. But… this is crazy, right?”

Robin just shrugged, a mischievous look in her eye.

“Maybe. But, who ever said crazy was bad? I mean, if you really don’t want to do it, then don’t. But, do you have any reason not to?”

It was those words that rang through your head, all through your dinner (which ended up being a modge-podge of leftovers, after realizing that neither of you had done a proper grocery shop in a while), all while you and Robin watched a movie, and long after she went to bed.

It was nearly midnight when you pulled out your phone, staring once again at Steve’s text. You knew you should probably respond via text - there was a good chance he was already asleep. But, something else compelled you to tap on his contact and press call.

One ring. Two. On the third, a muffled click, and his voice, groggy and low.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” you whispered. “It’s me.”

“Oh! Hello,” he replied, sounding considerably more awake.

“I’m sorry - were you asleep?”

“Hm? No, no - don’t worry about that. Are you okay?”

You nodded, before remembering that he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah - yes. It’s just… I’ve thought a lot about your offer.”

Silence. Then, “...okay? And?”

He sounded cautious, and maybe even hopeful. You took a deep, shuddering breath before answering:

“Yeah. Let’s do it.”

*******

You didn’t actually see Steve for a few days after that. You did receive a text the following morning from Steve, which only read:

Let me know what days and times you’re free. We can meet to set up the arrangements.

And that was what the next few days entailed. First, you had a Zoom meeting with Steve, which felt ridiculously formal. He explained that it was because he was at work, and it was easier this way - by the end of it, he had set you up with a personal separate checking account and a platinum credit card. You had insisted that it wasn’t necessary, afraid he’d get in trouble, but he had only waved off your concerns - don’t worry - you’d be surprised what some of my colleagues get up to. Besides, as far as my accountant is concerned, you’re a client.

A few days later, a car pulled up to your apartment - Steve’s car. Only, he wasn’t in it - his driver informed you that he was there to pick you up for your appointment. The appointment, it turned out, was with a seamstress named Valentina, a bombastic and impassioned woman who had once worked for Versace before leaving to open her own independent brand as a designer. As you stood on a raised block and she measured every inch of you, all she wanted to do was talk. She prattled on about her job, her wife, her annoying neighbor, the fact that she’s a week behind on tailoring a wedding gown for some politician’s daughter. You managed to ask how she knew Steve, and she explained how she’s tailored all of his work attire in the time he’s been in Europe - he’d even had his suit shipped to her during his winter in London. Her rambling was occasionally interjected with what lovely arms you have, or you’d look gorgeous in this color, don’t you think?

Eventually, you worked up the courage to ask, “So, uh, what exactly are you going to make for me? Like, a dress?”

Valentina stopped mid-measuring, glancing up from where she was kneeling in front of you.

“You don’t know?” she asked.

You just shook your head in response, and she laughed.

“Well, Signore Harrington was quite clear - I am to make you everything.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean, everything?”

“He said that everything you want to wear is to be made by me. Or, if you buy something else you like, I’m meant to tailor it, too. That’s why I’m keeping your measurements on file - to make sure everything fits you just right.”

“Oh.”

That was all you could muster. You had seen all of the fine, beautiful piece at the front of Valentia’s shop when you arrived - you had assumed maybe she was making one dress for you, for a special occasion. Or, you’d be picking something from the shop, and that was it. But this… how much money did Steve have?

“Nothing but the best, for Signore Harrington,” Valentina continued, resuming her work. “Which means nothing but the best for his ragazza.”

Girlfriend. You didn’t know whether that was a cover story Steve told her, or just an assumption she’d drawn, but you just chose to not respond, even as the word and all of the falsehoods behind it swirled in your mind.

It wasn’t until nearly a week later that you actually heard from Steve again. It’s another text, and you don’t see it until your lunch break during a coffee shop shift. It reads:

Are you busy tonight?

You stared at the text for a few moments, pondering everything it implied. Was this it? The beginning of… whatever this was? You took a moment to think, then replied:

No, why? I work until 4 and then I’m free

You saw the three dots appear for a second, then disappear. Then, his reply:

You’re working?

Yea I always work 8-4 on Thursdays

You don’t need to do that, you know.

Are you saying I’m not allowed to?

Of course you are, but just know that you don’t need to. I’ll take care of you.

You read that last sentence a few more times than was probably necessary. Then, he texted again:

So, you are free tonight, yes?

You pause for a moment before sending yes.

Great - I’ll come pick you up at 7? Let’s do dinner.

Then, the bell above the door was ringing, and your manager was calling for you as the line of customers grew, your 15-minute break somehow already over.

Sounds good see you then

That was how you found yourself practically sprinting out the door when your shift ended, just barely catching the bus, internally wishing it would skip every other stop by some miracle and get you home as quickly as possible. That, of course, doesn’t happen, and you briefly wondered if you should’ve just used your credit card and called a taxi. The thought suddenly feels ridiculous - you hadn’t actually used any of Steve’s money yet. You knew he said you should, but it felt strange to just frivolously spend someone else’s money like that. So instead, you leaned your head against the bus window, and willed it to move faster.

When you finally arrived home, you were only in the door for a few seconds before Robin was running up to you, eyes wide with glee.

“There you are! Look at this shit - did you know this was coming?”

“Did I - what?” you asked, confused and still a bit out of breath from how briskly you trekked two blocks and up the stairs.

“Okay, clearly you didn’t - c’mere, some lady came and dropped this off earlier today -”

You followed her as she spoke, stopping in your tracks at your bedroom door.

“What the -”

Hanging in your doorway was a thick garment bag on a gold hanger, the door propped open with a dark, leather-bound trunk.

Before you could ask anything else, you were unzipping the bag with shaky hands, gasping as you saw the contents - inside were four dresses, probably nicer than anything you’d worn in your life, all adorned with Valentina’s sigil on the inside.

“Whoa,” Robin said from behind you. “Are those from -”

“Yeah,” you said, cutting her off. “I - I think they’re all custom-made.”

It was then that you noticed a small envelope tucked inside, with a now-familiar wax seal. You practically tore it open, and it read:

I had Valentina send over these first few garments - there’ll be more to come. I think the white one would look great on you for tonight, with the gold shoes. I’ll see you at 7.

S.H.

“Holy shit,” Robin whispered, followed by a low whistle. “He’s really taking this whole thing seriously, isn’t he?”

You nodded, running your thumb over Steve’s handwriting a few times.

“Okay, you’ve got to tell me - is he just like, really bad in bed or something? Like, is that why he’s doing all this -”

“I wouldn’t know,” you admitted. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Wait - you haven’t slept with him yet?”

You shook your head, pinching the fabric of the white dress hanging in front, feeling the soft satin between your fingers.

“No,” you said. “I’m seeing him tonight, though.”

“Holy shit,” Robin said. “How is this your life now?”

You shook your head in disbelief.

“I have no clue.”

*******

Two hours later, after a long, contemplative shower, and fussing maybe a bit too much with your hair and makeup, you found yourself wearing the dress and heels from the trunk, as instructed. Well, it was more of a suggestion than instruction, but who were you to object?

The dress had slipped on with ease, and it was maybe the lightest, softest thing you had ever worn - it fit like a glove, enough that you didn’t think a single other person in the world could put this on if they tried. You understood now why Steve used Valentina - she was damn good at her job.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, not exactly recognizing yourself. It felt like you were going to some costume party, if the costume in question was a dress finer than anything you’d ever worn and shoes that probably cost more than you were willing to find out. The dress was light and flowy, hitting right above your knees. You did a quick 360, and took a deep breath - this was fine. It was great, actually - it was just dinner, that was all. Maybe. Probably.

When you emerged from the bedroom, Robin nearly fell off of the couch, jaw slack.

“Who are you, and what’ve you done with my roommate?”

You rolled your eyes, giving Robin a spin for the full effect. She just laughed, shaking her head incredulously.

“Seriously, though - you look great. Like, sophisticated, but in a hot way, I promise.”

“I don’t know if that’s a thing,” you said.

“‘Course it is, I’m looking at it!”

Before you could say anything else, you heard your buzzer ring - someone was downstairs.

You shared a look with Robin, and she bounced excitedly on the couch, urging you to answer. You went to the intercom, pressing the talk button and leaning in closely, remembering how notoriously bad the sound quality on this thing was.

“Um, hello?”

“Hey - it’s me,” Steve’s voice said, distorted a bit through the crackly speaker. “Are you ready to go?”

Oh, God. He actually came to the door.

“Yep! I’ll be down in a minute!”

“Are you sure? I can come up, if you want -”

“No!” you replied quickly - you glanced back at your tiny, and currently messy, apartment, and imagined he’d die if he ever saw it.

“It’s okay - it’s a third floor walkup… I’ll come down.”

“Yeah, okay,” he conceded.

You shot a glance back at Robin, who was giving you two thumbs-up.

“Wish me luck,” you said, suddenly feeling waves of anxiety rolling through you - this was suddenly so real, what the Hell are you even doing -

“Don’t do that,” Robin said firmly.

“Do what?”

“Freak out.”

“I’m not freaking out -”

“Yeah, you are,” she interjected. “It’s fine - in fact, it’s less pressure than a real date. And I’ve got your location, so if you go missing -”

“Ha, ha,” you replied, voice laced with sarcasm. “Goodnight, Robin.”

Before she could tease you or ask any more questions, you were out the door and heading down the stairs, heart fluttering as you descended each flight, knowing it’d bring you closer to him.

And, when you opened the door, there he was - much more formal than the last time you had seen him, wearing a slim-fitting suit and a friendly smile. When he saw you, he stepped back for a moment, eyes widening.

“I - wow. Look at you.”

You felt your heart flip, your face flushing.

“Well, I have you to thank for that. Or, Valentina, I guess.”

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed. “Mostly Valentina - I don’t really know anything about women’s fashion, so I told her to do what she thought was best for you.”

“And did she?” you asked.

He looked you up and down again, nodding.

“I’ll say - you really do look beautiful, you know,” he said, voice a little softer now.

You felt your face heat even more, and decided not to respond. After a moment, Steve stepped back and waved you ahead, following you down the steps towards the car parked on the curb. He opened the door for you, allowing you to slide in across the backseat before following.

As the car peeled away and onto the road, Steve cleared his throat.

“So - I got you a little something.”

Before you could ask or protest, he was handing you a small white box. You opened it slowly, gasping as you got a look inside - it was a necklace. A gold necklace, with a diamond pendant that glistened more than anything you’d ever seen. The whole thing must’ve been real - you were no expert, but it had to be. It was simple, but so clearly nicer that any of the plated stuff you had sitting on your dresser at home.

You just held the box in your hand, staring at it for a moment as you examined the contents. You slowly traced the chain with your finger, your thoughts only interrupted by Steve.

“If you don’t like it, we can return it, and you can pick out something you like better - I have the receipt, I just didn’t really know what you liked -”

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered. You realized he had taken your silence for rejection, and the idea was enough to make you sick.

“But - I can’t accept this. It must’ve been so expensive -”

“Don’t worry about that,” Steve interrupted. “I wanted to get you something nice, and I thought it’d look nice on you.”

You glanced to the front of the car to gauge how much the driver was paying attention, and leaned in closer to Steve with a whisper.

“You already wired me my rent, tuition, and my allowance - which was a crazy amount, by the way - and, the clothes, all of it… not that I’m not grateful. I am, I just… you’ve already spent so much, you’re going to end up spoiling me -”

“Maybe I want to spoil you,” he murmured.

Whatever you were planning on saying next vanished, the words dying in your throat. So you just went quiet, looking down at the necklace in your lap again.

“Can I?” he asked.

Knowing what he was asking, you nodded, gathering your hair to the side as he extracted the necklace from its box. He unlatched it and pulled it up around the exposed slope of your neck, his fingers brushing your skin as he closed it again. You felt your breath hitched, the feeling of his fingers ever-so-lightly touching you lighting your skin on fire.

“I do have a question,” you asked, fixing your hair as you gazed down as where the pendant rested on your sternum.

“Mm hm?”

“If - if I suddenly changed my mind about this - this whole arrangement… do I need to pay you back?”

He shook his head fervently.

“No - definitely not. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do - if you ever want to stop, let me know, and you can keep whatever I’ve given you. No need to pay me back, I promise. You’re allowed to change your mind, I - I don’t own you.”

“Right,” you said, biting your lip. Then you managed to finally meet his gaze, and he was looking at you so sincerely it made you want to cry. And his face was close - so, so close.

Then, you were leaning across the seat and bringing your hand to cup his jaw, pressing your lips to his. He tensed for a second, then leaned into the kiss. You pulled back after a moment, and he just stared at you, bewildered.

“What was that for?” he asked softly.

“To say thank you,” you replied, hand still brushing his face.

“And,” you added, “I’ve actually changed my mind about one thing.”

His brow furrowed, and you realized that you accidentally sent him into panic mode.

“About what?”

“Let’s skip dinner,” you whispered. “I want to go to your place instead.”

Author's note: thanks everyone for all the enthusiasm for the story so far! Just a warning, there's a lot of smut ahead, so get ready for that! As always, shoutout to Em, who's basically my co-author. Your replies, comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated!

Reply if you'd like to be added to the series' taglist

Taglist: @l4venderf4iry @joekeeryswife @lfaewrites @eddiesguitarskills @sonicthehedgedoggo @waylandmorgernsternherondal-blog @starrch1ld @peculiarwren @live-the-fangirl-life @missamericanandthelondonboy @specialsnowflake-gabbi @lunarxeclipsechaxos-blog @sagelittleplace @freezaz123 @palmtreesx3 @differentdeputyfishpaper @steves-babysitter @alana4610 @adequate-superstar @musicmunson @teletubbysteroids @g4ys0n @sweet-villain @maddipoof @ganjababie @tess-rae @beckiversen @joekeeryworld @pinkybatz @micheledawn1975 @wh0reforbucknasty @ineedafuckinqnap @fanficaddictsthings @xtrokeme @thikkiesixx @syrtxs0sted @fanofthingsstranger @myharrington @babyrunsforfanfic @mandyjo8719 @eddeslvt @caleb-bailea @universallysharkhounddeputy @tisthedamnseason69 @keeryology @phoenixambers @1986harrington @glizzymcguirex @boinkybarness @taytaylala12 @sashaphantomhive @mrskeery-mclaughlin @sashaphantomhive

#steve harrington #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington/fem!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #don't call me baby #dcmb #dcmb fic #sugardaddy!steve harrington #modern steve harrington #stranger things fanfic

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ms-demeanor · 2 months

Note

is there a difference between a nutritionist and a dietician or are those terms interchangeable?

Those terms are extremely not interchangeable.

In the US you've got RD and RDN, registered dietician and registered dietician nutritionist. Both of those are protected terms that require a specific degree, post-graduate education, board certification, and a supervised internship.

Nutritionist on its own, without the RD in front of it, MAY be a title with some meaning in certain locations but you have to check for local requirements.

For instance, in California there is no protection whatsoever for the word "Nutritionist" and I can legally call myself a nutritionist and start offering diet advice right now if I wanted to. I could have done that two years ago before I took even one nutrition or anatomy class. As a community college student who has NOT completed my AS-T in nutrition I have gone above and beyond what is required of nutritionists in California by taking a single 200-level nutrition class.

If someone in the US calls themself a "Nutritionist" you should hear alarm bells and they shouldn't stop until you've figured out where they practice, where they got their degree, and if their degree has anything to do with whether they're allowed to call themselves a nutritionist in the area they practice.

I did this the other day with Abra Pappa, who is a "licensed dietician nutritionist" in New York whose education *absolutely does not* give her the right to use that title because she did not get her degree from a school with an ACEND accredited nutrition program (a BS from an ACEND accredited program is the bare minimum of what you need to be an RD in the US; RDN requires an ACEND program or equivalent for undergrad (so maybe you've got a chemistry BS and then you take a bunch more nutrition specific classes before grad school) and then an ACEND program for your MS.)

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justjams2003 · 4 months

Text

Fast Pace-6

I do apologize to everyone who has been waiting so so long for this. I was shadowbanned and didn't want to upload anything while, because then you guys can't read it :(. But now, you guys can!

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', tell me if I missed any

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @dark-night-sky-99 @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis

Word count: 2,9k

Masterlist

Part 5~Part 7

A loud thunder crack causes a few people in the restaurant's head to snap up to the sky. Including my dear Y/N. Is she scared of thunder? Caco did not tell me this.

Usually, my mind would immediately worry about the race. How will the rain affect the car? How will the rain affect the track? How the rain affect my driving? Not now, ever since saw her for the first-time racing has been at the far back of my mind. If Caco or any of the Ferrari team knew this, they’d want to get rid of her as soon as possible. But if she has to leave so do I.

Her big brown eyes look up to me with concern and it just makes me want to wrap her up in my arms and never let go. Now, I worry about her getting wet. She might get sick or slip and fall. I did not bring an umbrella. I bring up my phone and go to dial the driver, but I’m interrupted before I can make the call.

“What are you doing?” Those delicate brows of hers pull together while she asks me. “I’m calling a driver.” We haven’t finished eating, barely halfway through the meal but I’d kick myself if she develops a cold so soon in my care. There is a twinkle in her eyes and a smile pulls at her cheeks. “Why would you do that?” I can’t help but want to know what she is thinking.

“I don’t want you to get sick, querida.” I lean forward, wanting to take her hand and caress it, but I’m not sure if she’ll allow me yet. A small laugh, a gentle one, she’s clearly amused with me, escapes her lips. “I’m sure a little rain won’t hurt. I’m not made of sugar.” She shrugs and can’t imagine that someone has such little care for their well-being. Especially someone as valuable as her.

Consistently, my brow raises. “Care to explain the medical bills I paid then?” Her cheeks light up and her eyes drag down to her shoes again. Now that her hair is down, she insists on hiding behind it. But when her eyes meet me again, she seems to beg for me to forget about it. How could I ever forget anything about her? “In any case, for me you are made candy floss.”

“You know, that reminds me of a poem. The author of it unknown, some people accredit it to Shakespear but clearly, they did not pay attention in English class if they think that. The true poet is unknown, but some consider it to be Qyazzirah Syeikh Ariffin. He says that you love the rain, but you open your umbrella. You love the sun but hide in the shade. It goes on but later he says that he fears what it means to be loved.”

Her words are so captivating, and her mind is something that I’d get lost in. The words she speaks, to me it’s like listening to a professor. One who has studied years to know exactly what they are saying. If she was my teacher, I’d get 100%, because I’d cling to her every word. If I could have her talking forever, I’d make sure I will live forever so that I may hear every word.

“How do you know this?” I ask, needing her to say more. She gives the cutest shrug. “It was between cooking or teaching English. I thought I’d make more money cooking and my parents wanted me to choose something more stable.” My blood boils thinking her parents wouldn’t support her true dream. How could they not see the beauty I see?

“But do you like it? The cheffing I mean.” She seems to think for a moment, biting her lip. If she does it, one more time I wonder if I’ll have control. But I must, I can’t scare her off. I can’t bear to lose her. And I won’t. Not of my own doing and not by anybody else’s. I’ll give her the world and make sure no one can give her anything else or take anything from her.

“Um... I did, at the beginning. When I could move to the centre of France, Paris. When I got to be independent, but it soon turned out to be more than I bargained for. I quickly got sick, because I wasn’t eating well. My mind wanders and it would take my mother calling for me to realise I hadn’t eaten. And then I fell behind on the bills. The stress made me smoke more which made me sicker.” Ah I see.

The big world just got too much for my baby. She’s too small to know how to care for herself. I see now why she needs me so. Her mind wanders to a fantasy world. She wants to be someone big and important. And paramount people don’t have to worry about those small things like what to eat and drinking enough water.

“Are you feeling any withdrawals yet? I know it was a bit thing to ask but you must know that I just want you to be as healthy as possible. So that you can enjoy all the things in life I want to give you.” She gives a coy smile and shakes her head. “No, it’s the least I can do for all you’ve done so far. I thought I’d be stuck with that debt for the rest of my life.”

She rolls her eyes just thinking about it. I could see the moment the money was transferred that her shoulders got lighter, and her smile got brighter. I won’t let another thing in the world affect her like this. Nothing will ever again sit on her shoulders. “If you feel even slightly off tell me immediately.” She nods, hiding her face again.

It irritates me, I want to see her as much as I can. I reach up and tuck her hair behind her ear. I’ll have to get her some hair accessories, just to make sure she doesn’t hide from me anymore.

Because I can get her anything. She has me to provide for her and make sure that she stays in the most pristine condition. Now she can go of in her fantasy world and I’ll stay on earth to make her bubble doesn’t burst. “So, you don’t want to work as a cook anymore?” I need to ask, and I need to know exactly what her dreams consist of so that I may make it a reality.

Again, she bites her lip, and I can feel my trousers grow tight. How on earth has she been roaming this earth? How are people not fighting tooth and nail to be in my position? “I think I’d much prefer something...slower. Less stressful, you know? I’d like to cook, yes, but rather at home or maybe even have my own show!”

The excitement twinkles in her eyes again and I must know more. “When I was younger, my mother would teach me how to cook and I’d always imagine that I'm on a program. We’d watch master chef and I’d always imagine being Christina Tosi or Amandine Chaignot. But even then more than anything I wanted to be involved in fashion. In any shape or form. Even if I had to cook to the models.”

She laughs, ever so slightly and I can see the memories flash behind her eyes. Then it will be so. Then suddenly we can both hear a slight pitter patter fall on the roof top. Her eyes instantly snap right over my shoulder. Watching as the pavement turn from concrete grey to cloudy grey.

“As I was saying before. If it rains I am not afraid to get wet. If it snows I will not be afraid of the cold. And if I ever fall in love I hope I treat it the same.” I can’t help but lean in closer. I can’t help myself. In every sense I need to be as close as possible to her. Even if, for now, I don’t know if she wants me to be as near as I want to be.

But when she looks up at me with those big doe eyes, my actions become uncontrolable. Her gaze makes me feel like a prescious jewel being discovered for the first time. Even if it is her who is Painite, rarer than Diamonds, rarer than Emeralds. Her hands are just too resistable, her skin too soft. I take her hand in mine, but refuse to look anywhere but her hypnotic eyes.

I bring her knuckles to my lips and place a slow, gentle kiss. “You promise?” Her fair cheeks turn a rosy pink colour. She bites her lips and it takes everything in me not to kiss her. “I can’t make any promoses, Carlos. Emotions aren’t to be controlled or guarenteed. They are free and wild and only earned.”

“Then I will earn your heart.”

My heart breaks that I had to leave her, but my personal trainer had been blowing up my phone. I know he’s right. I know I have to keep my body up to standard for the racing. Even then, my mind is still with her. I had let her play in the rain after our late lunch. I could see in her eyes that she so badly wanted to play.

I told her that I’ll buy her everything all over again just to see her happy. Just to see her enjoy herself I’d let her rip the entire hotel appart. This did make her smile and it melted my heart. I didn’t care for the people staring, or the people taking pictures. All I see is the twinkle in her eyes and those cheeks become round with a wide smile.

When I left her, her nose and cheeks were rosy pink and she was cold to the touch. I told her to take a shower and bundle up. I was honestly struggling to keep my head straight while gyming. The thought of the water fallings over those soft curves of hers makes me hot and heavy. It makes me adrenaline go crazy and my mind fuzzy. My trainer said I hit a new PR on the weights.

I had been gone for at least an hour or two, but the sun had long since set. The girls I’d been with before, yes they were kind, yes they were sweet, but they just weren’t her. It was the moment I set my eyes on her in that restuarant, I knew I had to have her. They feared the public eye, they wanted nothing to do with the most important parts of my life. She craves it, she’s there whenever I need her.

I found her curled up on the couch. She’d taken the extra cushions and comforters and build herself a bed there. The blankets are all the way up to her nose. She’s curled into a little ball. Taking up as little space as possible. My heart flutters and my cock goes hard. I need a shower.

Why would she do that? Hadn’t I told her to sleep on the bed? Why does she insist on defying me when all I do is for her betterment? Terco como siempre. I prepare the bed, making sure there isn’t a single then wrong. I pick her up bridal style, up close I can hear the very light snores. She doesn’t wake, however, she cuddles up closer to me. And when I tuck her in nice and close and can’t help but notice how innocent she looks with her new pj’s.

She clings to my shirt when I lay her down, in her subconscious she needs me as much as I need her. More than the money, more than the fame, more than the job. She wants me, she needs me. I am nothing without her and I must make sure that I will never loose her.

After the shower, she’d thrown the duvet off to the side. She’d spread out across the bed and her shirt had ridden up right under her breast. And suddenly I need a cold shower again. Her skin is soft, like a freshly hatched dove. Her skin the same colour too and I can’t but want her to get more sun.

My hands move without control again. Her delicate curves are like a magnet to my body. I make sure to be as soft and slow as I can, to not make a noise. Just slightly hovering above her small body. My lips make contact with the arch of her collarbone, just small gentle kisses. I do not make a sound, but she sure does. Smalls whimpers and whines escape her lips.

Mi pequeña wants this. Still deep in sleep, but her hands grab for me. Yearn for me, like I do to her. Just soft, almost ticklish kisses on her collar. Worshipping her like I so badly want to. But, for now, I won’t take it any further. Call it but a goodnight kiss. I slept on the couch, otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to control myself.

“Dulce niña, what happened here? Did you hurt yourself while I was gone?” Carlos’ hands come up to your neck. You instantly notice how his hands are big enough to wrap around your entire neck, you’re sure. Your brows intertwine, you know what he’s talking about. You tried curling your hair, to look good if there are cameras, but clearly you need more practice.

His brows furrow and concern fill his eyes. The look in his eyes is the same as last night, in your dreams. You can remember his big stromg arms taking holding you. Of those storming eyes commanding you to scream his name. If he found out about these filthy dreams you had, you’d sink into the ground of embarresment. He’s a classy guy who hasn’t asked for anything more than a smile, now you’re the one thinking of his skin on yours.

Not only that but you woke up in the bed this morning, even after going to bed on the couch. You and your girls had been talking for longer than you’d realised, likely falling asleep while on the phone call. They’d been just as excited as you were about the whole day. Both of them swooning and wishing their partners would do and say what he does.

You heard him coming back while you were getting ready. “No, no, don’t start with that mister.” You say, jabbing him in his chest. He’s sweaty and had clearly just come back from the gym. It’s already 07:30. His eyebrows furrow together. “I told you that I’d sleep on the couch. You are a very important person and need your full rest.”

A smirk forms on his face and it only makes you more annoyed. He crosses his arms and leans back, clearly done listening. “You already take care of me, give me a chance to take care of you. Relationships are 50/50. Even the more...unconventoinal ones.” You can’t help but hold onto his shirt, really wanting to drive the point home. “I agree, you tell me what you want and I give it to you. 50/50.”

You fold your arms together and roll your eyes. “Vous êtes impossible.” Something compared to a growl escapes his throat. He pulls you close to him by the hips. “I like it when you talk French to me.” Then his hand grazes your collar again. “Now tell me, what happened.” Concern is etched into his eyes and his touch is as gently as can be.

You shrug, “I wanted to curl my hair, but I haven’t used the curling iron in a few years...” He looks confronted with your words. “If you know you can’t use it, why risk hurting yourself.” He tucks a strand of now wavy hair behind your ear. You shrug and look up at him, “I wanted to impress you.” He lets out a loud laugh and takes your face in his hands.

“You’re too cute. What’d I do to have someone like you share a hotel room with me?” His eyes look and it makes you feel so warm inside. “You paid me,” your answer is blunt but the truth. You’re still not entirely sure where you stand in this strange relationship. He laughs just like before, “That reminds me, I got you something.”

He then opens his gym bag and then pulls out a handfull of things. He hands them to you and you can see it’s a bunch of hair accesories. A gold headband, a gold claw clip and some scrunchies of various colours. You furrow your brows at him and he ecplains himself by taking the headband and carefully guiding it across your hair. “I don’t like how you hide from me. This should make sure that you can’t anymore.” Your cheeks go pink, he noticed.

“Can I ask you a really strange question?” You’re not sure why now you decided to ask the question that’s been forming in your bind. It just slipped out and when he looks at you like that you don’t have much control anymore. “Always.” He smiles, still fixing your hair. “Do I have to call you daddy?”

His hand stops and his eyes meet yours. He forms a slight grin and then pulls your closer by the shoulders. He bends down low and then whispers in your ear. “Only when you want something.”

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