#? do you remember that she only does the dishes when she's going out with a boy? do you remember the 3 months where i took it upon myself t

[woso-dreamzzz]

Helper III

Lia Wälti x Mariona Caldentey x Child!Reader

Summary: You help your Mummy's girlfriend

Mariona knew about you before she started dating Lia.

It would be practically impossible otherwise.

She can still remember the uproar that went through the gossip vines when Lia took a break due to injury only to announce she was pregnant. At the time, Mariona hadn't paid much attention to it.

She'd seen the pictures, of course, announcing your arrival but she hadn't had any plans to see you. She and Lia weren't close back then.

But then Ana started talking about you both.

First it was 'my best friend Lia' and 'my little niece' that Ana seemed to throw out randomly but then Mariona started paying attention to it. You and Lia had existed on the fringes of her awareness for a while until Lia joined Mariona and Ana's girl's holiday.

You hadn't been there, spending the time with your grandparents back in Switzerland so Mariona got to know Lia without you and then, as time went on, she got to know Lia with you too.

Now she was here though.

At Arsenal after ten years at Barcelona.

"You ready?" Lia asks.

They'd driven separately today.

Mariona had gotten her own apartment rather than moving straight in though both she and Lia know she'll be spending a lot of time with you and Lia at the house.

"Yeah. I think so."

"It'll be great," Lia assures you, opening one of the backseat car doors and undoing your seatbelt," Won't it, guppy?"

"Uh-huh!"

You slide out of the car as Lia goes to get all the bags out of the boot. You place your hand in Mariona's.

"You have to hold hands in the car park," You tell her," Mummy says so. And you can't run either. That's dangerous."

"Oh, wow," Mariona pretends to be surprised," Thanks for telling me."

You beam at her and Lia looks at you both fondly.

"I'm going to school this year," You tell Mariona," So I won't be around a lot."

"I heard you are very excited."

"I am. Mummy already taught me how to read and how to add and take away."

"Well, I think you'll do very well at school then."

Your little chest puffs out in pride as the three of you make your way into the locker room.

You drop Mariona's hand then to go running over to Codi.

You didn't get to see her for most of the summer so now that preseason's rolled around, you just can't contain yourself.

Codi's your best friend at Arsenal, you think. She's fun and cool and has cows back home in Spain that she sends Mummy pictures of for you to see.

Codi does puzzles with you, at Arsenal and at home too. It's quite fun.

She's friends with Mariona as well and she told you once that Mario is just a big puppy sometimes. You haven't met a lot of puppies in your life except for Jordan's Blu and Beth and Viv's Myle but you think you understand what Codi is saying.

Mariona has an infectious kind of happiness.

Infectious is one of the words Mummy taught you last night when you were reading together so you're very proud of yourself for knowing how to use it.

"Guppy!" Mummy calls," Come on, breakfast!"

You usually have two breakfasts. One at home which is your main one. It's cereal most of the time and you and Mummy clean the dishes together before you come to training to get your second breakfast.

This one is usually a bacon roll or something smaller depending on how much first breakfast you eat.

You tell Mariona this as you walk with her, swinging your joint arms.

"I just need to go talk to Kim," Lia says," Guppy can take you to grab food, right Guppy?"

"I can help!"

You lead Mariona over to the buffet and hand her a plate.

"What do you want?" She asks.

"I'm meant to be helping you!"

She laughs and it's that infectious kind of laugh that has you giggling too.

"We can help each other."

In the end, you both end up with food on your plate and you practically drag Mario over to where Leah is eating.

"You're not eating properly," You tell her and Leah groans.

"Come on, it's the first day of preseason! Have we got to start this now?"

"Yes. That's not proper food, auntie Leah!"

Mariona has to smother her laugh. She's not really sure what to make of Leah now that they're on the same team but she knows Leah's important to you and Lia. She's just not sure where the boundaries are right now.

"Yeah," Leah says," You laugh it up Caldentey, just you wait. She'll be on you of your eating habits."

"No I won't!" You insist," Because Mariona eats healthy!"

At first, Mariona was a little confused about how you would fit in with the Arsenal girls. She couldn't wrap her head around what it would be like with such a little kid running around with the team would look like.

But, as she watches you wander around with a clipboard in her own apartment, she can see you're exactly like you are in private.

Overwhelmingly helpful.

She hasn't unpacked yet so she was a little confused as to why you and Lia followed her back from training, only for Lia to get out of the car and tell her you've been preparing for this moment for weeks now.

You hold the same clipboard from training right now and number boxes with a little pencil.

Lia sits on the sofa, watching you with a fond expression.

"Don't mind her," She tells Mariona," She'll let us know when she wants to put us to work."

"Are you sure? I can-"

"Leave her," Lia insists," She gets annoyed when people interrupt her 'system'. She'll get us when it's time."

You touch every box twice, tapping the top before noting down the number on your little clipboard.

"She's very smart."

"She cried last year when I told her she just missed the cut off date for school. She spent all of her time trying to learn what she'll be learning this year."

"Scarily smart, then."

"She's a good girl." Lia watches as you do a second sweep of the boxes. "And she's very excited that you're here."

"Is she?" Mariona frowns. "But-"

"She thinks you're super cool like Codi."

"Does she?"

"I mean, you don't have cows like Codi does but Guppy really wants to see how well you can puzzle. It's her favourite activity."

"Puzzling? Really?"

"Why? Are you surprised?"

Mariona turns her head to watch you poke around a box that she's sure has all of her electronics in.

"No. That tracks. I think I'm more surprised that she got Codi into puzzling."

"Mummy!" You call out before Lia can respond," Mariona! I'm ready."

Lia stands smoothly, "Alright. Where do you want us?"

You look down at your list, quiet for a moment as you sound out what you've written there. "Boxes one and four need to go in the kitchen! Two and three are all clothes and five has a bunch of decorations. Six and-"

"Let's take it room by room," Lia says," Let's start with the kitchen."

You nod, head bobbing up and down twice. "Okay! Boxes one and four!"

Lia grabs one of them, hefting it up into her arms and heading into the kitchen to start unpacking.

"Come on, Mariona," You say, taking her hand," Me and Mummy are going to help!"

[luveline]

Missing my zombie!steve husband 🫶🏻

quiet day at the camp… hope something bad isn’t brewing… zombie apocalypse au <3 fem, 2k

Steve loves the sound of the river, but he only allows himself a moment to lay down on the riverbank during laundry hours. 

You stand knee deep in the water with your pants and sleeves rolled up, the corrugated metal of an old shed roof that’s been repurposed into a washing board held to your chest. It was pointless to roll your sleeves up, you’re soaked to the bone, even your hair, but the summer sun keeps you warm. 

“Don’t get too hot!” you call. 

“I’m fine,” he says, unwilling to shout. 

“He’s fine!” Robin shouts from beside him. “Numbskull.” 

Steve stares at you, locking you in, so to speak, the nice shape of your hip and stomach, the mess of your wet hair. Tonight, he’ll help you fix it, but there’s no rush and no hurry to dry off while the sun is out, and the fences are up. He turns onto his stomach. Grass tickles his cheeks. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Robin asks quietly. 

“Fine. Can you tell me if she needs help?” 

“Sure.” He listens to the sounds of her moving, likely pulling the slim lengths of her legs against her chest to hug herself, the tan leaves of a book spread out just in front of her. 

Steve could really go for a cigarette. You swapped the last box you found for toothpaste, isn’t that how it always goes? You and Robin found a cheat code in the apocalypse, nicotine with a capital ‘N’. You swap Arctic chewable for socks without holes and boxes of Marlboro’s for the bathroom essentials. Everybody wants them, and you’re great at finding them. Steve never thought he’d crave a cigarette again considering he wasn’t addicted, having smoked for a couple of months in high school to feel cool with his friends, stopping when his mom asked him to. He doesn’t remember why. She’d asked, and he’d listened, as he used to do. Swim team, cross country, basketball, lifeguard training, mowing the lawn, not upsetting his father, taking out the trash, vacuuming, no drinking and driving; task after task after task. Some of it was easy. He liked doing the dishes, and he loved taking care of his mom even if she didn’t feel the same. 

Not that it matters now. Does it matter now? He’s never gonna see her again. She’s a memory. She’s a bad memory, most of the time. 

The more he reflects on it, he decides. She was a bit shitty, but she’s his mom, and she’s likely gone, so he’ll try to remember the cookies they made together and the way she’d smile at him after she tied his shoelaces before school. And also the mean fucking bitch she’d turn into when she drank two glasses of wine. 

“What are you thinking about?” Robin asks.

“That’s the wrong soap,” you say from the river. Your voice floats over the breeze. 

“Fuck off, soap is soap,” Eddie says, your not-so-new friend, Steve’s sworn enemy. 

“I’m just saying,” you laugh. “Look, I’ll wash, you rinse.” 

“I’m thinking about that time,” Steve begins, holding his hand out toward her, open but not expectant, “when my mom and dad came home early from his business trip in Missouri and found us sleeping together.” 

“I’d never heard your dad laugh before,” Robin says. 

“My mom really didn’t like you after that.” He smiles as she takes his hand. They were a lot more touchy, pre-apocalypse. He misses that sometimes. 

“I don’t even think she thought we were dating.” 

“She was disgusted.” 

“She said we were being weird teenagers.”

“I guess we were. I never had a friend like you before so maybe I can’t blame her,” he says. He has something special with you, you’re a best friend because you’re half of his heart, but Robin was his first proper best friend, and remains it. “I missed you a lot when we were stuck in Indiana. There were a ton of times where shit would go wrong and I would get mad at you because I knew you’d know how to fix it, but you weren’t there.” 

“You’d get mad at me?” Robin asks, squeezing his hand. “You jerk. Be mad at yourself.” 

“Can you wait for me next time?” he asks.

Robin’s quiet, then she laughs, “I’m nodding but you can’t see.” 

He wonders how she’s feeling. He admits to not doing that much in the past. Not that he didn’t think about how he made others feel, he was always worrying about that after Nancy, but he can’t say he thought of it in the moment. Steve forces himself to sit up and offer his arms for a hug, which Robin gladly accepts, her frazzled laugh on his neck as he pats her back. 

“Are you okay?” she asks. 

“You know Y/N says I’m possessive?” 

Robin leans away, fingers curled around his elbow. “You’re fighting?” 

“No, just. She says I’m possessive, that I get mad about, you know, my people.” 

“Right. Isn’t everybody?” 

“I never thought I did. I’m not, like, too proud most of the time.” 

“Steve, this is super introspective,” she says, frowning, smiling, a weird expression somewhere melding in the middle of happy and concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s fine if you’re not.” She laughs shrilly. “I woke up the other day and cried and then ten minutes later I felt fine. I’m far from okay.” 

Steve glances past Robin’s head to watch you in the river. You’re sitting down amongst the stones. It really isn’t too deep, water to your ribcage washing suds down to Munson, who’s smiling at you kindly, not smarmy or flirting, just smiling. 

“Why did you cry?” he asks quietly. 

“I missed my cousin, I think.” 

Steve curls his arm behind her head and encourages her in for a fiercer hug. 

“Think we should probably go help them,” she mumbles. 

He takes it for the brush off that it is; sincerity is too much to take, sometimes. If she wants to be evasive about it that’s okay, she already took the leap and admitted to getting upset. 

“I cried thinking about Y/N’s hands the other day,” he says. 

“Steve.” Robin rubs her eye with the heel of her hand. “I don’t even know what to tell you.” 

“What? I’m trying to show you I’m pathetic so you don’t feel bad.” 

“I know you’re pathetic, and I don’t feel bad.” She climbs off of the ground and brushes broken grass off of her legs. Steve climbs up next to her, nudging her with his elbow. “You’re mucho pathetic. It’s kind of crazy.” 

“I think I might try and drown him,” he says conversationally. 

“Why now?” 

“Why do you think?” Steve asks, toeing off his shoes and peeling off his socks, nearly pitching forward on the wet bank closer to the river.

You and Eddie look up as they approach from different spots of the water. Your smile at seeing him winds him for the thousandth time, just so happy to see him, so in love with you he doesn’t even know what to do for a few seconds. “Hey, honey,” he says, “can I help?” 

“Now you wanna help?” you ask, gesturing to your soaked front. 

You’re messing with him, and he doesn’t care anyways, you can talk to him like crap if you want to. He shuffles down from the mud of the riverbank and into the water, cold and wet like a shock against his ankles, softer as it climbs to his knees. You’re sitting where it’s more shallow, opposed to Eddie on his knees and almost drowning further down. He puts his hand on your wet shoulder and kneels down in the water beside you. “Wanna hug?” you tease. 

Steve hugs you. Doesn’t care that you’re soaking or that the water is freezing against his crown jewels, though he shivers by your ear, prompting your laugh like bubbles in his own. “It’s cold,” he says. 

“Freezing!” 

Not to be a freak, but he can feel your chest pressed to him, and he knows you get achy in the cold. He wraps his arms doubly behind your back and rubs at your sides. “How much laundry’s left?” he asks. “We’re gonna get hypothermia. Again.” 

“You didn’t get hypothermia,” you remind him, folding into his space. “Steve… is everything okay?” 

“Do I look mopey today? Robin just asked me the same thing.” 

“You don’t look mopey, but you’re being touchy. You’re cuddling.” 

“How am I not supposed to cuddle you, dummy? I’m keeping you warm enough to function right now. Without me you’d be an ice cube floating down the river.” He leans back to hold your face in one hand, your cheek under his thumb, water racing down his wrists and your neck. 

You push against his hand gently with your cheek. 

“Sorry,” he says. 

“What for?” 

For lots of things. “I didn’t realise how cold the water was. I would’ve come to help you.” 

“It’s fine. I scrub everything and then Eddie catches it. We’ve only lost one pair of underwear,” you say. “The river’s like a long washing machine.” 

“How much do you have left?” he asks. 

“Nothing. I was just about to get out.” 

“Couldn’t have told me that before I came to get you?” 

“No,” you say, lifting your chin. Not challenging, but close. It’s an offer, Steve decides, kiss me or don’t kiss me. You don’t seem to realise he doesn’t decide, he needs you. If you always wanted to kiss him, you’d always be kissing, all the time, everywhere. 

Steve gives you a quick peck. “Come on, let’s go set up the line.” 

You somehow, together, make your way back to the tents without freezing to death after throwing your clothes on a drying line between trees. It’s warm enough that stripping down to your skivvies is mildly pleasant (away from the eyes of the other campers). You get dressed in the softest clothes you own upon Steve’s insistence, sweatpants and a dark hoodie, three pairs of socks and the tent door left open, before he lays you down on the sleeping bag, and settles between your legs, his full weight bearing down on you, his face nestled in the damp crook of your neck. 

“I couldn’t kiss you the right way,” he confesses. 

“Why?” You pull mildly at the ends of his hair. 

“‘Cos I always want more than one kiss.” 

“That’s a strangely romantic way to say you wanted to make out with me,” you whisper. 

“It’s not like that,” he insists, even though he does want to, and he did in the river, and he does all the time.

“You’re getting kinda heavy, Steve,” you mumble. 

“What?” 

“It’s a good thing.” 

“How dare you.” 

“We got sorta frail for a bit.” You wrap an arm around his head, tip of your nose to his forehead. 

“Yeah. Lucky we’re in camp Eddie now,” Steve says. 

“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” you murmur, so close to sleeping Steve can tell. You just need a feeling of security to nudge you over the edge. 

“Lucky we’re together.” He climbs off of you slowly so as not to rouse you too much, kissing your slack cheek as he settles on your shoulder. “You and me. I don’t care where we are.”

He ends up falling asleep not long after you, lulled by the rhythm of your light snore. 

[captain-marble]

silly thought that i’ve been rotating at might write someday (although knowing me…)

anyways!

someone gets mad and pranks the justice league by releasing clips of their embarrassing moments on tower (nothing that could reveal identities but still embarrassing)

it’s stuff like marvel failing at cooking

batman being sleep deprived and trying to parent different league members (namely marvel)

flash running into walls and things (a lot)

superman being afraid of a shoe and litterally leaping into the air to get away from it. (it was green)

anyways everyone find this hillarious and the members are a lil mortified. But fawcett takes it into their own hands to give marvel food (litterally he has too much food to know what to do with) to the point he ends up like going around sharing it with the homeless kids and stuff

not only that but the league decide to take it into their own hands to teach marvel. cut to videos being released of marvel learning to cook with different leaguers

superman: marv can you pass me a rolling pin? so what you’ve got to do is-

marvel looking at a pot of utensils questioning…. before tentatively holding out a masher: ?

superman: (blinks)

supes probably teaches him how to make apple pie and talk about how if you don’t use the sugar you can use the pie crust to make savoury pies too and blah blah life hack. his parents probably mean he’s the worst offender for trying to shove food or recipes onto marvel

hal and barry prolly teach him how to make like single guy with a shitty job type grind shit that’s like carb loaded and you can just bulk make and store ands got everything you need (cuz they always busy as hell and ain’t rich or anything so don’t got the time or stuff to make tons of food) (it kinda looks like struggle food but yk it gets them through)

hal: so yeah you just dump everything in and if it starts to look radioactive then you know it’s cooked-

billy ‘orphan street rat will eat anything’ batson: damn bitch you live like this? /silly

diana teaches him a greek dish from her childhood that she thinks marvel would feel nostalgic for (i mean billy doesn’t but he remembers eating it in past lives and the thought diana put into it really comforts him)

bruce either a) refuses to teach marvel anything as he himself cannot cook and won’t let the work know that (as all of these cooking videos have been being leaked to the internet who are EATING IT UP like it’s not just fawcett anymore everyone loves cap now becuase you can tell he’s just that authentic cuz his ass does not know these are being filmed) b) cannot cook so it ends up just being a hot mess c) they learn to make a new recipe together d) he has alfred teach him how to make something so he doesn’t embarrass himself e) he teaches marvel how to make struggle food that’s worse than hal and barry’s

marvel: aren’t you funded by a billionaire?

batman: hm

marvel: batman….damn bitch you live like this???????????

everyone just dogs on batman online for like banging bruce wayne (no one believes that the butts match :/ ) and yet still being ass at cooking, like bro is at nuclear levels of damn you live like this with his struggle food

anyways cap finds out about the cooking with cap vids and immediately gets all embarrassed that people know he sucks at cooking, fawcett lay off a little on giving him food now they know that the JL are helping him, but he regularly receives copies of old cook books and someone’s nans favourite recipe and stuff and he’s taking home enough food from the JL to actually eat well and is therefore a lot happier and so the JL are like wow marv really likes cooking, and so at least like once a week (usually more) someone (or sometimes just he will) will cook with him and he’ll take home the left overs (if people eat any otherwise he just takes it all himself (despite him frantically offering the food out to people cuz he feels bad for taking so much))

years later when the identity reveal happens they’re like wow??? this makes so much sense???? i’m so glad we’ve been inadvertently feeding the homeless child??? yippee for him not starving and being more healthy that he would’ve been????

but yeah it’s so silly and i think billy would actually love having the chance to eat foods he’s never had before, especially where he spent so long on the streets that he kinda was forced to like ration and buy cheap food, so like he’s being treated by trying new foods and risking not liking it and stuff

but yeah i just think cap cooking and baking is neat teehee

[honnelander]

busgirl

once again i got carried away and wrote way more than i planned too lol thank you to the lovely anon who requested this and i hope i did your prompt justice request: what if the reader’s a merchant’s daughter who was supposed to marry a suitor but she runs away and ends up meeting sanji

WARNINGS: none

word count: 3.4k

pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: reader is arranged to be married but she won't stand for it. so what does she do? she runs away and meets one particular chef, begging him for help

masterlist

taglist: @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @amanda08319

You never imagined your life turning out like this: still living with your father at this grown age, never having gone beyond your small island town ever in your life, and waking up every day just to relive the same day over and over again. It was torture.

Every single day of your life has been the same since you left school: you woke up before the sun rose, made breakfast for you and your father, helped prepare the wagon for its daily trip into town, then spend all day yelling in the town's square trying to sell any shoes you could (your father was a shoe merchant), pack up the unsold product at the end of the day, head home, make dinner, then go to bed soon after cleaning up just so you could wake up and do the same things all over again. You hated it.

But what could you really do to change anything? You were born to a poor shoe merchant and ever since your mother had died, things had become even tighter for your small family, of now, two.

Your father never had much, barely a penny to his name, so that meant you also had no money to your name either. Sure, you could've started a side hustle of scams and cons, maybe trying your luck at playing poker at the docks whenever pirates showed up, but how could you just leave your father like that? Just leave him all alone once you scraped together enough berry to buy a one-way ticket out of this town? As much as you were tempted, you couldn't. It didn't feel right. And besides, you were always too exhausted at the end of the day to do anything else anyway.

But then one day, your father said something that would change your life forever.

The day started out like any other. You had cooked a quick meal of toast and eggs for yourselves and once you finished your plate, you moved to get up to put the dishes in the sink for later.

But before you could get out of your seat, your dad grabbed your wrist gently, telling you to stay seated. "Actually, y/n, no need to rush this morning. We're not going into town today."

"What?" You were taken aback. You couldn't remember a day where you both didn't do this daily routine. "Why?"

Your father couldn't look at you in the eye. Instead, he kept his focus on his half-eaten breakfast, which was also weird. He normally finished eating before you. "Y/n...you know I wouldn't do this unless I had no other choice," he started.

You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach. What was happening?

"But business has been really slow lately, and I tried to hold this off for as long as I could," he continued.

"Hold what off?"

He kept talking like you hadn't said anything. "But there really was no other choice." He swallowed and finally looked up and the look in his eyes scared you. You've never seen your father look that upset before...the only other time he had looked like that had been when mom died.

You tried to swallow but your mouth was dry. "Dad, what's going on?"

"And you know I always will love you, right?"

"Dad," you said a little more sternly, your heart beating a thousand miles a minute. "What is happening?" After a moment of silence, you repeated yourself. "Dad, answer me."

His next sentence hit you like a ton of bricks. "Y/n, I arranged for you to be married."

You couldn't move. "What?" you breathed.

Like always, your father continued on like you hadn't said a word. "He's a nice man, a decent man. His name is Olaf and he's from the North Blue, comes from money..."

You felt your dad tighten his grip on your wrist and suddenly you felt like you were being suffocated. You ripped your hand away from your dad's grip, the sting of betrayal hurting more than any cut or wound ever could. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you fought your hardest not to let them fall. "You sold me?" your voice quivered.

Those three words finally got your dad's attention. He looked into your eyes again, hurt evident in his gaze, but you realized you didn't care. Not anymore. "No," he replied firmly. "You know I would never sell you to anyone. I would never do that."

A humorous laugh escaped your lips. "Oh? But you'd put me in an arranged marriage instead? For money?" When you blinked, tears fell down your cheeks. "Are we really that poor dad?" you spat.

"Y/n-"

"Why didn't you tell me how bad off we were before? Before-" you stuttered and waved your arms around, "before all of this? I could've- I could've done something, anything." You ran a hand through your hair as you exhaled, a sardonic smile appearing on your face as you looked up to the ceiling, up to whatever God had subjected you to this cruel fate.

"There's nothing you could've done, y/n."

"You don't know that!" you exclaimed. Pure hot red rage adorning your features as your furious eyes snapped down to look at your dad. "I could've hustled, I could've conned the guys down at the dock for some money. I could've done something instead of nothing!"

"And then what? End up dead in a dark alley once those men found out you stole money from them? End up raped?" Your dad's anger matched yours, his voice growing louder with each sentence. "Maybe become a pirate? There is no way I would ever let that happen to you y/n."

Your dad hated pirates and you knew he would rather die before he ever let you become one.

You flung your arms up in exasperation. rolling your eyes as you let out a frustrated groan. "Oh I don't know dad," you yelled, "maybe I could've joined the Marines or something!"

But your dad didn't like the Marines either. He believed pirates and Marines were the same person, just in different clothes.

"I wouldn't let you do that either, you know that y/n."

Suddenly, a thought stuck you: you were an adult, so why was your father still making all of these major life decisions for you? It didn't make sense.

But you knew one thing: you certainly weren't going to marry some rich guy you didn't know from the North Blue. Not if you were still living and breathing.

You glanced at the open window behind your dad, seeing the early morning tinges of a sunrise lighting up the sky. Perfect, you thought. Docked ships normally didn't leave port until the sun broke the horizon, so you had a chance to hop aboard any ship that would take you far far away from here. Away from your miserable life and a father you were realizing you hated.

The sky started becoming brighter by the minute and your heart rate started to spike. You estimated you had around 20 minutes or so until the sunrise broke and if you were serious about running away, it was now or never.

Suddenly, you stood up from the kitchen table and realized that your father had stopped whatever he was saying to look at you with a curious expression.

"Y/n?"

"Y-you know what dad?" your voice shook and you swallowed your nerves. "I...I think you're right? This Olaf guy probably isn't that bad and would probably give me a better life than I ever could," you ground out and forced a smile that you were sure looked more like a grimace. "I'll do it."

If today had been a normal day, your dad would've been tipped off that something was up but he was just so relieved that you were actually agreeing to all this.

Your dad had a relieved smile on his face as he said, "That makes me so happy to hear that y/n. You have no idea."

"Y-yeah, me too," you agreed with a small nod. You reached down to pick up your plates but your hands were shaking.

Your father placed a hand on your arm. "I understand you're nervous sweetheart. Why don't you go lie down in your room? There's some time until Olaf gets here. I can handle the dishes for today."

Perfect. You agreed and nodded quickly. Thanking your dad and giving him one last look before you went up to your room and never saw him again.

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

Your lungs were burning as you ran towards the docks. You could feel sweat running down your back as you pushed yourself to run as fast as you could, arms pumping and feet kicking out dirt behind you.

The sky was beginning to turn a lighter shade of orange and a ping of fear gripped your heart.

What if you didn't make it? What if all the ships were all boarded up and ready to set sail by the time you got there? It wasn't uncommon for ships to leave a tad early since most of them had a full day at sea before them but you were so close, you just had to make it. There were probably around five minutes or so until you reached the docks and you just had to get over this ridiculous hill.

But your legs were tired and your sides were cramping and you could feel yourself slowing down due to exhaustion. You weren't a huge runner to begin with but you were literally running for your life- so what choice did you have?

If you made it through all this, you vowed to yourself that you would get better at running. Who knew the next time your life would depend on it?

As you reached the top of the hill, you took a quick second to breathe and survey the docks before you but what you saw nearly stopped your heart. There were normally a dozen or so ships that littered these docks but it looked like most of them had headed out early with only a few ships remaining, and the ones that were left? They looked like they were nearly ready to leave port as well.

With newfound urgency, you sprinted down the hill, yelling out to any sailor who would listen to your plea.

"WAIT!" you screamed. "Wait for me!"

But no one acknowledged you. You started to wave your arms around, your travel bag bouncing around as you continued to sprint.

"PLEASE! I beg you!"

As you got closer, you could start to make out the names of the few ships that were there. There was one ship called "The Happy Farewell" and you figured since they were closest you would try them first.

"Get lost girl," the ship's captain sneered. "I got no use for a girl like you."

"But please, I need to leave. You don't understand," you begged.

The captain clicked his tongue as he shook his head. "Don't we all?" he muttered. But he spared you one last glance before boarding his ship and something in your expression must've been wildly desperate because he sighed before nodding towards the ship two docks down. "Zeff's."

"What?"

"Go to Zeff's ship, girl. The Baratie. He doesn't have the heart to turn away desperate souls like yourself."

Your head whipped towards the direction the captain was looking and you saw the decent-sized Baratie standing there.

"But you better hurry," he warned. "They're setting sail as soon as we leave."

You quickly looked back at the captain to thank him but he was already walking up the plank to board his ship, barking out orders to let down the sails and hoist up the anchor.

Shit. You had to hurry.

You sprinted two docks over and once you reached the dock The Baratie was tied to, you saw a couple of men in white coats loading up the last of the crates of food onboard. You had just made it.

It was weird to you that these pirates were dressed up in matching white coats and blue bandanas around their collar but, hey, it could always be worse and you weren't in a position to be picky. You would even join a circus crew at this point.

You made your way over to the closest "pirate", a tall blonde guy that had hair almost covering his left eye. He was inspecting one of the crates, clipboard in hand and checked things off as he examined it.

"Excuse me," you huffed, trying to get this man's attention. "But I need your help. I need to speak to the ship's captain."

"Don't we all," the guy replied with a good-humored laugh and crooked smile, not looking up from his clipboard.

"Please," you urged. "It's important."

The man looked up from his clipboard and did a double-take, clearly not expecting a young woman like yourself, who looked like they just ran away from demons, asking to speak to the captain this early in the morning.

His eyebrows rose as he looked you over, his smile disappearing. "Are you alright Madam? Is something the matter?"

As his eyes scanned you over, you noticed how good-looking this guy was. And here you were, all sweaty and disheveled, your hair probably sticking out in all different directions. You prayed to whatever God was out there that you didn't have sweat stains on your shirt.

What a day this was turning out to be.

You ran your hands over your hair, trying to smooth down your flyaways and hoping you looked a bit more presentable. "I will be alright, when I speak to the captain."

"Anything I can help you with?"

What the- was this guy hitting on you? Your wandering eyes snapped back to look at this man when he asked that, looking to see if he really had the audacity to hit on you while you were begging for help, but you saw no trace of flirtation whatsoever, just concern.

"Ah- no. Unless you have the power to give me a spot on this crew."

The man's eyes lit up (you noticed they were blue). "Ah, so you want to join the Baratie? Become a chef yourself?"

You looked at him in utter confusion, blinking a couple times to make sure you heard him right. "Huh? A chef?" You looked at his outfit a little more closely and turned to examine the other men who were dressed similarly. You didn't notice it before, but they weren't just wearing any white coat, they were wearing a chef's white coat. "You guys are chefs?" you asked dumbly.

The chef, as you now noticed, rubbed his jaw as he tried to hide his smile at your obvious question. "Yes, Madam. We're chefs."

"So you're a pirate chef?"

The blonde cook couldn't hide his laugh at your series of questions, his blue eyes sparkling and white teeth showing like he had just heard the funniest joke. "No, Madam. We're just chefs. Not pirates or pirate chefs."

You felt stupid and felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "Oh." But if they were all chefs on this boat, did that mean... "Wait- do I have to be a chef in order to get on this boat?"

"Ah well, if it were up to me," he sighed, "I would give you a spot on the ship regardless if you could cook or not." He twirled the pencil between his fingers as he crossed his arm in thought. "Although, we do need some new waiters. The dining room always seems to be short-staffed..."

You opened your mouth to quickly volunteer yourself even though you never waited tables a day in your life but the blonde chef kept talking.

"Or," he thought out loud," if you really wanted to be a chef with no experience, there are ways you could get into the kitchen. We do need a new busboy. Or girl," he quickly corrected. "Move your way up and learn..."

The sun broke the horizon, the morning orange light now fading into yellow. You swallowed. You were out of time. If you couldn't get a spot on this ship then your life was over.

"I'll do it," you quickly interrupted and nodded. "I'll- I'll do anything. A chef, a waiter, a busboy or busgirl- anything. I'll even clean toilets if I have to. I just- I need to get on this ship."

Your desperate plea silenced the chef, pulling him out of his musings and you could see concern wash over his features. But before he could say anything else, a voice called out from the top of the ship's plank.

"Oi! Sanji! What the hell are you doing down there, son?" the man with a tall chef's hat and braided mustache called out. As he made his way down to the dock, you noticed one of his legs was a wooden peg instead. "The sun's broken the horizon. I don't know how many times I need to tell you this, but next time we pull out of port late, I'm shoving my leg up your ass and you're off the line for a week."

Sanji shook his head, for once not caring about the threat of not cooking, and looked at his father figure, nodding to you. "Zeff, you need to speak to this girl. You have to let her join our crew."

You watched as Zeff followed Sanji's nod and looked down at you with raised eyebrows. It was like he just noticed you were there. "Her? For the last time Sanji, I'm not letting one of your one-night stands join the crew," he said with an exasperated sigh and turned back towards the ship. "Pretty or not."

"Wait!" you called out, grabbing Zeff's arm and immediately dropping it when he turned to look at you in disbelief. "I, I don't know him," you quickly said, pointing at Sanji and taking a big step away from him to prove your point, "My name is y/n and I desperately need a spot on your ship, Sir. Please."

Zeff studied you for a moment, eyes scanning your face. "People like you normally aren't 'desperate' to join my crew."

"But I am, Sir. I," you inhaled a shaky breath at the thought that this man could also turn you away. "I can't stay here. I need to leave. I'll do anything. I can even scrub the toilets."

Zeff regarded you with a short sigh. "Lass, there's no way I would have you scrubbing toilets. I'd make him do that way before asking you," he said and jabbed a thumb at Sanji, silencing Sanji's scoff of disbelief with a look. His face became serious as he asked, "You're serious aren't you?"

You nodded. "As serious as I can be sir."

The head chef became quiet, looking at you like he was trying to figure out what you were running away from, but it wasn't any of his business. At the end of the day, everyone had a past and he wasn't there to judge.

"Alright, lass, you want a position at my restaurant that badly? You got it. Your first service as a busboy- girl, whatever- starts tonight." He pointed a finger at you and with a stern voice asked, "Everyone on this ship earns their keep, alright? And no talking back. Understood?"

Relief flooded your veins at his words, you couldn't control the smile that stretched your cheeks as you nodded. "Yes, chef."

The corner of Zeff's mouth twitched upwards in amusement and he nodded once. "Good." As he turned around to head back onto the ship, he glanced at Sanji. "I like this girl. Wherever you found her...good job, son." He started walking back up the plank onto the ship and called out, "Get those last few crates up on here, boy. We got to leave, we have a dinner service tonight!"

You frowned as you watched Zeff walk away, a little annoyed at the thought that 'Sanji found you' instead of you finding him. When you looked over at Sanji, you saw him still watching Zeff make his way up the plank, beaming slightly at the head chef's praise.

"You didn't find me. I found you," you said to your newest crewmember.

Sanji looked over at you, a small mischievous smile on his face. "And aren't you glad you did?"

Before you could correct him or slap him, you heard Zeff calling out to you from the ship's deck. "Oi! Y/n! What are you doing down there? I'm not paying you to just stand there all day with Sanji! There's a pile of dirty dishes with your name on them in the sink."

"What? Already?" you grumbled as made your way up the plank to board the ship.

From behind you, you could hear Sanji's laughter and you could hear it until you made your way inside.

[tofixtheshadows]

I should've made this in the first place to go as a reference to my post about Kabru rarely being shown eating (and when he does it, it isn't pleasurable) and linked it somewhere. I didn't feel like I needed to go through every example and based on people's tags I do think everyone gets it ... but I'm compiling this anyway because I find it really interesting from an artistic/writerly standpoint.

Like, Kabru obviously is eating meals in the abstract sense. But as I said, Kui almost never actually draws him putting food in his mouth. At first I assumed that she was avoiding it to save on space because he needs to be shown talking instead, but as I've looked back, I've noted that she doesn't usually shy away from giving characters speech bubbles even when they're chewing or they have utensils in their mouths. Unless they're Kabru.

This would realistically be the best time to actually show him eating, since it's a normal meal at a normal restaurant, but no. He doesn't actually put food in his mouth in this entire scene. They show him taking a bite in the anime, so I almost forgot, but honestly the manga just makes it look like he's picking at his food. Again: I'm sure he does eat this meal. My point is that I think it's a deliberate choice to keep that off-page, to contrast all the other characters who get to both visibly eat food and enjoy it.

As mentioned, Kabru is only shown drinking wine while his party eats the snacks in chapter 32. I think it's possible to infer that he doesn't actually eat any food here at all.

The harpy egg omelette bit barely counts as eating lmao we all saw him struggling to even swallow a bite down. Let's move on.

Quick sidebar:

Are we all going insane over this panel or is it just me? Okay continue.

Like with the omelette, it gets a checkmark for actually going into his mouth but no checkmark for enjoyment. He hates this. He's being spoon fed bad cake and patronized.

Next:

Literally the worst meal in Dungeon Meshi lmao.

Barometz:

He does actually eat this. Rare Kabru mastication panel, not clickbait. But it's kind of a sad moment when you remember that he was looking forward to a cultural dish of his mother's- literal comfort food from his childhood- and instead got the weird godless crab-meat-plant that is the barometz. This may be the only time Kabru goes looking for comfort, and he's pointedly denied it.

Next:

Yeah he isn't drawn eating during this entire scene either. Only drawn holding the food and his utensil.

As stated: still never shown eating. Deliberately shown getting Mithrun to eat instead. Kabru, the call is coming from inside the goddamn house.

Bavarois is next, and once again it gets a checkmark for actual on-page chewing but as we see, he still hates it and has to concentrate very hard and block out all thoughts of what he's doing in order to swallow it down without making a scene.

Okay. Faligon feast. Kabru does canonically spend days eating for the sake of Laios and Falin! Yay! Caloric fucking intake! Clean plate club!

And yet.

Literally shown stopping himself before he can put the food in his mouth.

Mickbell is so real for this. No one needed to hear a lecture from Senshi more than Kabru.

Anyway. Given how surgically precise Kui is with everything else in this story, I just feel the choice to constantly show Kabru focusing on his worries during mealtimes, instead of drawing him just enjoying food, was purposeful.

[star-girl-05]

Follow Me

Rick Sanchez x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

Morty was the first to notice, followed by Summer who then told everyone else. After she told everyone, the next dinner they all subtly stared at Rick and you. Of course Rick notices all their looks but decides to ignore it, not in the mood to deal with whatever is bothering them this week. 

He continues to eat his meal, wiping his mouth against the back of his hand when he’s finished. He pushes his dish forward, grabbing your hand. Not even bothering to look to see if you're finished. Just leading you away from the table and towards the garage, and you just follow him dropping your fork. 

They watch the two of you walk away, Summer only speaks up when she hears the click of the garage door shut. “What the actual fuck was that?” She looked around the table looking for an answer. 

“He does it all the time” Morty says “Everytime he leaves a room he grabs their hand.”  

That piqued both Summer and Beth's curiosity. Jerry of course was in his own little bubble. “When did he start doing that?” Beth questions, she tries to think back to see if she could remember but nothing specific comes to mind. 

“I don’t know, I just noticed it a few weeks ago” Morty responds.  “When I brought it up he pretended to not know what I was talking about.” 

Summer chuckles, “I think Grandpa Rick has a crush” she teases not once looking up from her phone. 

Just then you walk back into the dinning room, “Sorry left my phone” you pick up the device going to walk back. “Oh Beth, dinner was lovely thanks again” 

Beth gives you a sweet smile, “No problem” before you turn away Beth asks the question that’s on her mind. “Hey Y/n what's with Dad dragging you out of the room?” Summer and Morty are both surprised at their mothers bluntness. 

“Oh, I’m not really sure either, he just started doing it I don’t mind though” Beth says nothing but ‘Oh’. You give her a small nod heading back to the garage. She doubts she’ll get an answer from her Dad so that answer will have to suffice. 

~THE GARAGE~

“What took you so long?” Rick doesn’t look up at you tinkering with the little gizmo in his hand. 

“Beth was wondering why you dragged me out of rooms” Rick just muttered a small ‘okay’ but now that Beth mentioned it you wanted an answer. “So why do you always drag me?” He sets down the item he’s working on turning towards you. 

“I need someone to hand me my screwdriver” you can’t help but be a little disappointed in his answer. He ignores your pouty face instead vaguely pointing across the room. You sigh moving to where he pointed to grab the requested screwdriver. “and I like you being close to me” he says under his breath as you sort through the drawer. 

“What did you say?” you question a screwdriver in hand. 

He clears his throat “Make sure its a flat head”, you chuckle under your breath, you knew he liked you. “Why are you smiling like that?” he asks when you hand him the screwdriver. 

“No reason”

“Sure” he grumbles but doesn’t question you further, opting to go back to tinkering with his little square. While you just watch grabbing a tool for him every once in a while.

[steddielations]

Steve walks into utter chaos.

He was stopping by just to see Max, but all the increasingly concerning noise coming from the Munson’s trailer drew him over there instead. Worried that all the cursing and clattering would drown out any chance of a knock being heard, Steve lets himself in. 

Eddie doesn’t even notice him come inside, too busy scrambling around the complete wreck of a kitchen.

“Dude, are you cooking or just banging pots and pans together? I thought you were dying in here.”

Eddie squawks and jumps about a foot in the air. His hair is even more disheveled than usual, barely tied down with a bandana. He’s got flour splotches on his face and all over the frilly grandma apron he’s wearing (which Steve is definitely getting a photo of and showing Dustin later) along with a suspiciously sticky goo on his fingers.

“Stop laughing at me,” Eddie groans. 

“I’m not laughing,” Steve laughs, going to join him in the kitchen, “What are you doing, man?” 

“Well, I’m trying to bake Wayne a cake, but at this point, I might as well give him a frosting covered rock for his birthday,” Eddie sighs, frustrated hands scrubbing the flour off his apron, “I don’t know, man, usually I just get him another mug and a pack of smokes, and he’s never asked me for anything, but I’ve put him through hell this year I just wanted— I don’t know like, to do something special but I can’t even—”

“Alright, take it off.”

Steve folds his arms and waits while Eddie just gawks at him for a moment, cheeks reddening under the patches of flour.

“What?”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Eddie scoffs, starts muttering like he does when he’s nervous and Steve cracks a smile when he realizes why.

“The apron, Eddie,” he gestures, “Hand it over.” 

Another moment of confused staring and Eddie slowly gives it to him.

Steve wastes no time shaking out the flour and tying it around himself. He moves past Eddie, gets right to work clearing the mess and salvaging what ingredients he can.

“You…” Eddie peeks over Steve’s shoulder, “You know how to bake?”

“I can make a cake,” Steve shrugs, “Robin obsesses over shit sometimes, calls them her “little brain worms” or whatever. She couldn’t stop thinking about this cake she swore she had for her 5th birthday but couldn’t remember the flavor. So we made every cake recipe in her mom’s cookbook until we found the right one.”

“So Harrington’s got a secret Betty Crocker power-up, impressive.”

“Nah, just small stuff. I help Claudia with Dustin’s birthday cakes. Little shit is very particular about his red velvet.” 

Eddie snorts and Steve waves him over to start washing the dishes. He does so with a small salute that smears more flour on his forehead. The word cute comes to Steve’s mind but he just rolls his eyes. 

“So you dusted off your oven mitts for little old me, hm? I’m flattered.”

“Only because I like Wayne and I’d prefer if you didn’t give him food poisoning,” Steve teases, dumping out Eddie’s abomination of batter into the trash. Though he softens when he sees the way Eddie winces at it. “And I think it’s nice, you know, you doing this for him. I wanna help.”

Eddie clearly holds back a smile, looking down at the bubbles in the sink, and the cute word comes back to Steve’s mind.

“Okay well, take it easy on me. Not everyone has a bunch of mom friends teaching them to bake.” 

“Oh yeah, then where’d you get this grandma apron? You just had this little number in the closet with your leather and chains?”

“No, it’s Mrs. Bennet’s and she’s not my friend,” Eddie bristles and Steve senses a hell of a backstory there, “I stole it off her clothesline.” 

Steve laughs and makes Eddie tell him the whole story, all the inner workings of Forest Hills feuds. It’s nice, Steve’s been spending more time here since everything, listening to Eddie’s stories and sharing his own. It’s easy to be around Eddie, even though that pesky word won’t get out of Steve’s head.

Once the batter is finished, Steve dips a finger in to test.

“How does it taste?” Eddie asks, “Better than mine I hope.”

Steve hums around his finger, “So good, here taste,” he meant to slide Eddie the bowl, but the wires must’ve gotten crossed somewhere, because now he’s holding out a dollop of cake batter on the tip of his finger to Eddie’s mouth. 

They both look down at it, then at each other again. Steve knows he should apologize, drop his hand and say it was a mistake but there’s something about the way Eddie’s looking at him, the way he subtly licks his lips is almost like— He wants this. 

So Steve lets him have it.

Eddie leans in, keeps his hands at his sides and slowly guides himself down on Steve’s finger. His eyes fall shut as his mouth closes around it, like it’s too much, watching Steve watching him. It’s a lot for Steve too, the wet warmth of Eddie’s mouth, one swirl of his tongue almost makes Steve’s knees buckle. 

Something comes over him, he presses his finger down just slightly, feeling Eddie’s tongue curl around the tip. It elicits a soft noise from Eddie that sends heat thrumming all through Steve. Eddie’s eyes flutter open, brows turned upwards and mouth in a plush little O around Steve’s finger, looking up at him through dark lashes, a dot of flour on his nose. The sight makes Steve’s breath catch in his throat. It’s fucking cute and hot.

Steve has to swallow his own noise when Eddie pulls off. 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, a slight grin on his lips, “Really good.” 

Steve’s about to do something crazy, put his finger back in Eddie’s mouth, maybe more than one this time, or just his lips on Eddie's, maybe even slip his tongue inside instead of his fingers, lick all that sweetness away until he just tastes Eddie, something— but a sudden loud knock on the door has him dropping his hand like it’s made of cement.

It’s Max, wanting to know why Steve ditched her for Eddie. She comes inside to ‘help’ which means she leans against the counter, talks about her day, complains, teases Steve and makes fun of Eddie for being demoted to dish duty. 

Steve puts the cake in the oven and focuses on cleaning and composing himself. He can feel Eddie trying to meet his gaze, trying to see if Steve's going to freak out on him after that. Once Steve can look at him without feeling like he’s going to burst into flames, he gives Eddie a small reassuring smile, even throws him a wink when Max isn’t looking. Eddie gives him a smile back.

And later, after Wayne comes home and they sing happy birthday and eat the cake that Steve insists Eddie helped him with— Just the tasting part, Steve says and revels in how Eddie covers a blush with his hair— and after they walk Max home, Steve pulls Eddie behind the trailer and kisses him until he doesn’t taste like cake anymore.

for the prompts "You heard me. Take. It. Off." and "Stop laughing at me" for @highkingpenny and anon, thank you and I hope you enjoy this!!

[dontopenfairies]

“So, you want a diaper again tonight?” she asks, rising from her chair and gathering their plates off the table. She’d managed to convince him to wear for the last three nights, lying with her legs wrapped around him on the couch while they watched cartoons on the TV.

“It’s not like I *want* to wear it,” he says. She can’t see him from her position at the sink but she can imagine his expression, that little frown and pouty lip he gets when he’s indignant. “I’m just doing it because you wanted me to.”

“And because it’s snuggly and warm and nice,” she says, rubbing their plates down with the soapy sponge. She leaves the forks at the bottom of the sink. He can deal with those tomorrow.

“I don’t really think that. I just said that…like…in the moment…”

“Uh-huhhh…and after we fucked later that night and you came it didn’t seem that way anymore?” She turns on the tap and rinses the dishes.

“Well, yeah, that’s what I told you that morning…”

“Uh-huh. So it was a coincidence you were so incredibly horny when I took your diaper off?”

“I mean…I mean, um, you just looked really pretty that night!”

“That sounds like a silly excuse. I’m pretty every day.” She slides the plates into the dish rack and comes back over to the table. “And you wanted one again the next night, soo…”

“I never said I wanted one!! You just put me in it! You didn’t even ask!”

“I didn’t need to ask. You didn’t protest at all. In fact, you helped me get your pants down. Do you remember that? Do you remember sliding your fingers into the waistband of your jeans and helping me pull them down?” She reaches around behind him and slips her fingers under his shirt, running them across his skin just under his belt. Her hands are cold. He shivers. “Hmm, that’s getting you excited, huh?”

He raises his hands, ready to grab hers and push them away, but then he hesitates.

“I’m going to go change, okay, baby?” She leans in close to his ear. “I’ll bring a diaper for you to the couch again. If you want it, be sitting nicely on the couch when I get back. If you don’t, you can stay in here or go play games in our room. It’s up to you.” She plants a kiss on his ear and gives his sides a final rub before removing her hands from under his shirt.

Now he sits at the table, anxious thoughts overlapping in his mind. If he goes and sits on the couch, is she going to put a diaper on him automatically again? Or is she going to make him tell her he wants it? He doesn’t want it, of course, he’s just playing along with her…It only felt good because he was really tired. It wasn’t the kind of thought he’d have wide awake. Of course not.

He listens for a moment and he can hear her opening the drawer to the dresser. He’s starting to have to pee a little bit. Does he have time to make it to the bathroom before she’s done?

He hears the dresser drawer close and he knows he has very limited time. He stands up and slowly pushing his chair in. He hesitates again, about to sit firmly back down and stay there and finish his tea and ignore her until bedtime…but then something mechanical in his legs takes over and he’s walking to the couch, eyes ahead, looking at nothing.

He sits down and folds his knees up to his chest.

“There you are,” she says from behind him. She’s wearing red and white checkered pajamas and holding the diaper and a pair of his pajama pants behind her back. As she sits down, her shirt rides up a little and he sees a white waistband sticking out. So she’s wearing, too.

“How come…um…you have one on again?”

She sighs. “You’re trying to be nice, now, huh?”

“Um…I don’t know what you mean.” He chews on his fingernail. He definitely knows what she means.

“I know I was acting like it wasn’t a big deal,” she says, looking at the ground, “but when you were calling me disgusting it kind of hurt my feelings. I didn’t want to wear in front of you for a couple days. I’m sorry, I know that’s stupid.”

“No, no, I—I’m sorry! I’m really sorry. I won’t call you that again.” He pushes himself up on his hands and gets closer to her.

“Thank you. It was honestly really hypocritical…considering what you’re about to let me do to you!” She moves suddenly, turning and pushing him down onto the couch with a thump. He lets out an involuntary giggle at the sudden movement.

“Oh, you like this, huh?” she says, smoothing the front of his pants with the heel of her hand. He tries to keep his mouth shut but a weird whimper-squeak comes out anyway and he can feel his body trembling as she unzips his fly and slowly eases his pants down.

“Aww, lifting up your hips all by yourself, without me even prompting you.” She slides the diaper under him and gently pushes his pelvis down, strong hand on his hip. The material of the diaper is so soft. He tries not to shift his hips to feel it rubbing against his bottom. Stay still. Stay still.

She pulls the diaper through his legs and tapes him up. He has one hand up by his mouth, rubbing his fingers against his lips and teeth. She silently pulls his pants to his ankles and over his feet, and then rolls up the legs of his pajama pants and eases them on. “Help me out again, baby, and lift up your diapered ass. I know you’re distracted by how good it feels, but just do that for me.”

Once he’s all changed, she pulls him up off the couch and reaches for the remote. He falls onto her, leaning against her side with his head on her shoulder. “Do you want to finish the episode from last night? I paused it when you fell asleep.”

“Okay,” he says in a whisper.

Halfway through the remainder of the episode, she rubs her feet together. “I’ve gotta pee, bad,” she says, turning to smirk at him. “I’m just going to go, is that okay with you?”

“Um, what? I—I guess—”

She puts a finger on his lips. “I don’t know why I asked you. You don’t have a choice.” She slouches back against the couch and he can hear the familiar hiss of pee coming from her diaper. Then the sound stops.

“Do you want to feel it coming out?” she asks. He doesn’t answer. She reaches for his hand and guides it down under the elastic waistband of her pants. She briefly presses on his middle finger, dragging it over the crotch of her diaper, the way she helps him finger her, before letting it rest, cupping her right between her legs. The hissing starts up again, slowly at first and then faster. “Can you feel it getting warm? Is your diaper getting tighter?”

He’s mad because it is. And all of this is reminding him of the building pressure in his own bladder.

“Are you going to go, too, tonight, do you think?”

“I—I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” he mutters.

“Not ready yet, huh? So that means it is gonna happen someday.” She pulls his hand back out of her pants and he whines, wanting to touch her just a little longer, even if the diaper is in the way.

She pushes him back against the couch again, and kisses him slowly. Then she rests her head next to his, in the crook of his shoulder. Her weight is pressing on his belly, and he can really feel it on his bladder…

“Okay,” he says quietly, voice shaking. “You win. I’ll admit it. I want to…um…you know. I want to use it.”

She kisses his neck.

“Will you…um…will you show me how?”

“There isn’t just one way, silly,” she says, rising and pulling him up. “Here, sit like this, like me. Okay, now focus. Imagine you’re sitting over the toilet. You reallyyy have to pee. Close your eyes and picture it.”

He obliges, trying to imagine the cold, hard seat under him. To his surprise, he feels a tiny bead of warm liquid forming at the end of his penis. Oh my god, it’s going to be difficult to pull it back in. A small spurt escapes him.

“Are you going yet?” she asks.

He nods. It’s becoming a stream now, and he can feel the diaper getting warm and heavy, pee spreading out across the padding. It’s a new feeling, and it feels really wrong. The pee should be going somewhere, it shouldn’t stop right away like this. He’s actually *wetting a diaper* at his big age. Oh my god, that’s so dirty…he hears the little whimper-squeak again from somewhere far away.

“Hold it,” she says. “I really want you to go on my lap. And you’re going so much, I don’t want to miss it.” She grabs him by the hips and pulls him onto her, legs out towards the arm of the couch, perpendicular to hers. “Good. Keep going.”

The end credits of the cartoon are playing and he is peeing in his girlfriend’s lap. He already has a nagging feeling that he is going to really regret this tomorrow, but right now he just feels sleepy and warm and comfortable. She crosses her arms over him and pulls him closer. He feels his eyes closing.

“Let’s see how far we can go with this…” she says softly. Or was that the very beginning of his dream?

[bahablastplz]

All in | Chapter 12

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: Chan takes you on a date and you get to see your sister. You and Felix continue right where you left off the night before.

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings

chapter warnings: smut

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

You wish you could convince yourself that this is not a date, not a real one, but it’s so hard to do so with the way that Chan presents himself. He wears a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his forearms. His left wrist is adorned with a golden wrist-watch, a beautiful timepiece that you can practically see your reflection in from how shiny and well-taken care of it is. 

It reminds you of… the necklace he gifted you the night of the gala, the golden rose pendant that still sits around your neck. How had you not noticed it? All along you have been wearing it, a subtle reminder in more than one way that right now, you are the property of Bang Chan. 

And before you had left for your date, Jeongin had gifted you gold earrings to match. It’s what he had bought for you at the store earlier, knocking on your door before you left to tell you, ‘this will match your dress.’ And it does, perfectly. 

The dress you wear tonight is black, reaching all the way down to your ankles. It’s strapless and off the shoulders, framing your waist perfectly. The dress has a gold trim that shimmers in the light, capturing the essence of the jewelry that you hadn’t given a second thought to. You look… 

“Gorgeous,” Chan tells you. He holds out for you a bouquet of your favorite flowers and you try not to think about how he knows they’re your favorite. 

He opens your car door for you and your heart warms a little bit at the gesture before you remember why you’re here. You can’t afford to let your heart be warmed by the man manipulating you into going on a date right now. 

He brings you to the nicest restaurant you’ve ever seen. It’s on a rooftop, and he’s seemingly rented the entire thing out so that it’s only the two of you. The table is candlelit, fairy lights strung around pillars that hang little lanterns above your table. The waiter pours you a very expensive bottle of wine which you sip lightly, not allowing yourself to lose your head. 

“This is nice,” you admit. “Do you take all of your dates here?” 

Chan laughs. “That’s funny.” A beat of silence. “I don’t date.” 

“And why’s that?” 

“My line of work doesn’t really allow time for this.” He waves his hand around in the air.

“But you’ve changed your mind?” 

“I think I’ve made myself very clear that I like you.” You don’t respond. You smile politely and take a small sip of wine. 

The waiter brings out dinner. It’s a full-course meal complete with side dishes and dessert and Chan sees to it that you eat until you’re full. The dinner is nice, albeit a little quiet to start. 

“You seem to care a lot about your sister,” he says at one point. “Tell me about her.” 

“She’s the only family I have,” you tell him. “I know she’s very worried for me. She hated that I dated Jungwon. She thought he was really bad for me but I didn’t listen.” 

He nods along. “Is she older? Younger?” 

“Younger,” you confirm. 

“You’re overprotective of her,” he says. It’s an observation, not a question. 

“I guess you could say that,” you reply. It is the truth after all; ever since you arrived here, you’ve been worried about her safety, wanting to let her know that you’re safe. She is all you have, and when you don’t have a lot it makes sense you want to keep that one thing safe. “I just want to make sure she’s alright,” you tell him. 

“Your sister is safe,” he tells you. “I understand the need to see it with your own eyes, but I wanted to let you know that she’s okay.” 

“You’ve been keeping an eye on her?” You ask. You’re a little surprised that Chan would go out of his way to do so. 

“I have eyes everywhere,” he explains. You suppose that makes sense—why would he go out of his way for you when he could get somebody else to do it for him? You’re lost in thought, and the silence is peaceful. You look over the rooftop at the city, twinkling lights. For a moment you remember that Chan probably owns most of the buildings you can see, and that thought overwhelms you. 

“Do you plan to keep me here forever?” You finally ask. You hate the way your heart pounds hard against your ribcage when you ask. 

“I don’t want you to be a prisoner forever,” he tells you with a grimace. “One day, I hope to give you more freedom once I see that you deserve it. I want you to want to stay with me, with our group.” 

“What if I never do?” You ask timidly. 

“You will,” he says. He gives you a charming smile and you feel uneasy at his words.

“Until then… you’re going to force me to fall in love with you?” 

“I won’t force you to fall in love with me,” he says. The smile is now gone, replaced by a sorrow that looks unnatural on his features. “That’s something you’ll do on your own, one day.” 

“But you’re forcing me to go on a date with you! How is that any different?” you point out. 

“I’m forcing you to give me a chance,” he explains. He looks bashful for a moment, hand scratching the back of his head. “I can see how that may have been misconstrued.” 

You’re silent, staring at him with a forced smile. You’re not even sure what to say. Deep down, you wonder if someone like Chan is even worthy of being loved, worthy of having your heart opened to him. Then you remember that your heart has somehow started to let in Felix after you swore you would never love someone like him. Not after Jungwon. Sometimes, the heart can’t help but want someone that’s bad for you. Jungwon was a prime example of that—a bad omen for what was to come, perhaps. 

The rest of the night is uneventful. You make more small talk, but as you predicted nothing changes the way you feel about him. You don’t tell him so. You’re undecided about Chan, altogether. His worldview confuses you and you don’t like the stronghold he seems to have over… well, everything. You won’t deny that he’s an incredibly attractive and charming man, but you’re starting to see right past it for all of the manipulation he’s done so far. How far would he go to get what he wants? You’re not sure. 

The entire night, you would find your mind drifting to Felix, wondering what he was doing. Reminded of your promise after an interrupted moment the night prior, ‘this isn’t over.’ Just the thought of his hands trailing on your skin and his lips hot against yours has your face heating up but you shake away the thought. You wonder what Chan would say if you told him one of the reasons you wouldn’t give him a chance is because you would rather give that chance to Felix, his right-hand man who has proven himself very deserving of your trust. You would never tell him, of course. You value your life. 

On the drive back, Chan sings along with the radio. You’re tired from the overconsumption of expensive food and a smidge of wine so you don’t notice when you start to drift off. You awake to a hand on your thigh, nudging you awake. You recognize your surroundings—your sister’s house. You’re about to ask how he knows her address when you’re reminded of his words earlier: ‘I have eyes everywhere.’ 

You’re almost expecting Chan to stay in the car when you exit to go knock on her door. Of course he follows you, only a breath behind you at all times. He’s busy checking the time on his watch when you knock timidly on her door, your heart beating out of your chest. After a moment of silence, you look at Chan with furrowed brows and worry evident on your face. You open your mouth to speak to him, but before you can the door creaks open. 

“Y/N?” 

You feel your heart jump in anticipation. When you turn around you see your sister, the first time you’ve seen her in months. Words escape you, they truly do as you jump forward and embrace her in your arms. Tears wet the front of your dress and you’re unsure if they’re hers or your own. It’s all you can do to cradle her in your arms and coo sweet words in her ear, to tell her you’re safe and that you’re so, so sorry. 

“Can… can you come inside?” she asks, eyes flitting between you and Chan standing behind you. You turn your head to look at Chan yourself, asking him silent permission while biting your lip timidly. You don’t really want Chan inside of your sister’s house but you’ll do anything to prolong the conversation. He nods his approval and the three of you step inside. 

“I thought you were dead,” she nearly whispers as she sits next to you on the couch. Your heart pangs in your chest at the thought of leaving your younger sister all alone. Though she is only a few years younger and old enough to have a stable income and a small place of her own, you’ve never given up on the role of protective older-sibling with her. You hate to see her having her own worries about you. 

“I’m not dead. Here I am, I’m safe, I promise,” you tell her. 

“But… Jungwon? He was all over the news,” she explains. This comes as a shock to you–you had expected for the news of Jungwon to be taken care of, to be swept under the rug. Not to be broadcasted all over the nation for everyone to see. You spare a glance to Chan and he simply shrugs his shoulders, nothing more to be said. 

“Yes, there was… there was an altercation,” you say, trying to explain the situation delicately. “And Jungwon died. But Jungwon and I broke up a while ago.” 

Your sister perks up at the news. “A while ago? Why didn’t you tell me? I knew he was keeping you from contacting me so it was about time, but you really did it? You took my advice and got away?” You wince a little bit. In reality, the events that have transpired were so much more complicated than that but you aren’t sure how much time you’ll be given to tell her, Chan looming ominously in the corner with his arms crossed. 

She takes your silence as a response. “That means you’re coming home now though, right?” Her eyes light up for a moment before they dim at your lack of response. “Right?” she repeats again, this time addressed to Chan. 

“I’m afraid your sister has to remain in our care until further notice,” Chan says unapologetically. 

“Your care… Who even are you? I can call the cops, y’know–” she rambles, unaware of the way that Chan tenses up at your words. He opens his mouth for a snide reply that you’re sure will scare your sister to pieces but you cut him off instead. 

“Don’t,” you demand before softening your tone. “Don’t. I just need you to know that I’m safe for now and I can’t come home just yet. I can’t really tell you much more at the moment but if I come home I’ll only be in more danger. Where I’m staying right now… it keeps me safe, and more importantly, it keeps you safe.” You bring your hands up to cup your little sister’s face in your hands, using your thumbs to wipe away her stray tears. “I’ll come back for you as soon as I can, okay? I need you to stay strong though, and stay out of trouble. I love you.” 

You’re fighting back tears of your own. In reality, you’re unsure of when you’ll be able to see her again. This time you got lucky, manipulated into seeing her in the form of an ultimatum. There very well may not be a next time, if Lee Heeseung has a say in anything. But you leave her hopeful and you leave a small part of yourself behind with her. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The ride back home is silent and uneventful. You’re sure your demeanor can only be described as pouting but you would never admit it. Chan seemingly has nothing to say as you fight back tears, though you do murmur a slightly ungrateful ‘thank you’ once you’re finally home. When you get to the door, he kisses you chastely on the cheek, close enough that you can smell the petrichor of his cologne. You wait until he is far enough away to rub the essence of his kiss off your cheek, a childish action but one that soothes you nonetheless. 

When you return to your room and close the door, you all but slump to the floor. What you’re not expecting is the sudden grasp on your hips startling you, your eyes shooting open and cursing yourself for your lack of attentiveness. Before you can let out a startled shriek, a hand covers your mouth and you’re met with a pair of warm, chestnut-brown eyes and a sea of freckles sprinkled across Felix’s face. You let out a sigh of relief and slump into his embrace instead, his hand coming to cradle the back of your head. 

“Hi,” you mumble awkwardly into his shirt. 

“Hey,” he replies cautiously, pulling away to inspect your features. “I heard you went on a date with Chris.” He says it not as an accusation but a statement that he already knows to be true, unharmed by it but disappointed. 

“Who told you?” you question. His brow furrows and he hesitates for a moment before giving in. 

“Hyunjin,” he admits sheepishly. 

“I should have known!” you exclaim. “I should tell him to count his days–”

“Woah,” Felix interrupts, his hands falling to your shoulders to ground you. “He wasn’t trying to rat you out. It was more…” he pauses a moment, racking his brain for the right words. “Out of concern.” 

“Concern?” you repeat, unsure of what Hyunjin may have to be concerned about on your behalf. 

“Something about forcing you to go so that you could see your sister?” 

“Right,” you deadpan. “I’m sorry–” 

“Don’t,” he interjects. He lets out a long, sad sigh and his hands move from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you in closer to him. “You have nothing to apologize for. I understand why you made the choice that you did and I’m not angry, alright love? Not at you. Chris, he just has this way of manipulating things to get what he wants, even if it leaves everybody else hurt. You’re what he wants,” he punctuates by swiping a stray hair behind your ear, “and it’s not fair that you’ve got caught up in his mess. In our mess.”

“Felix?” 

“Mm?” 

“Why do you call him Chris?” 

“What do you mean?” he muses, a small smile splayed across his features. 

“It’s just, everyone else calls him Chan but you call him Chris. Why?” 

“Ohhh,” he replies unhelpfully. He thinks a second. “I’ve known him for a very long time. Since childhood, you know? We both grew up in Australia in the slums. I owe a lot to him, honestly, and he won’t let me forget it. We don’t have to get into it now. In fact, I’d much rather get you out of this dress,” he says, pulling you even closer to him. You barely have time to register his words, trying to let your brain catch up with you but you become easily distracted by his hands on your skin. 

His hands trail lower, lower until they’re touching the backs of your thighs and before you can protest he’s hoisting you up effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist. 

“Felix–” 

“I believe we were interrupted yesterday,” he says, his eyes dark and glossy. You breathe heavily when you notice him licking his lips, his tongue poking out gently and suddenly you're crashing your lips against his, messy and breathless and all-consuming. You pull against his soft blonde hair, tugging gently against the roots to hear the breathy moan that escapes his lips. Your tongues collide and you swear you’ve never kissed someone so feverishly. 

You barely notice when he walks backwards with you encased in his arms until he’s falling back against the bed with you now sprawled on top of him, fingers still intertwined in his hair and dress bunched up around your waist. 

You allow yourself a moment to take in the sight of him. A rosy red flush has spread across his cheeks and up to tint his ears the same color; his heart-shaped lips are wet and red around the edges from your ministrations and they’re parted slightly. His otherworldly hair is out of place, flyaway strands present from your pulling and teasing. He looks utterly debauched and it’s all because of you, and you find yourself wanting nothing more than to properly worship him, to trail your fingers lithely across all of the ridges of his muscles and kiss every freckle that appears on his skin. The dark longing evident on Felix’s half-lidded eyes tell you that he’s likely thinking the same thing. 

You kiss him on the lips and then trail down to his jawline, peppering kisses across his neck until you reach his adam’s apple. He lets out a pleased hum as you kiss and lick across his sensitive skin, sucking just hard enough to not leave a mark. He looks conflicted between closing his eyes tight from pleasure and wanting to watch your every action. 

When you reach down to lift his t-shirt over his head he’s eager to help you, revealing his toned and well-disciplined body. You stare at his abs, remembering the first time he trained you when he had teased you by lifting up his shirt, revealing his ‘abs of steel’ with a cocky grin. 

“Like what you see?” he smiles. 

“You know that I do,” you remark. 

You’re not expecting for him to grab your hips to move you forward so that you’re sitting properly on his abs, your clothed core dragging across the ridges of his muscles. 

You can’t hide the shaky moan that leaves your mouth which just encourages Felix to keep on going, his hands guiding you through the motions of rocking back and forth on him. 

“Feels good?” he questions, watching the way you fall apart for him so easily. You nod at him and continue to be stimulated by his actions, a high quickly approaching. His hands reach your thighs and tug at the hem of your dress and you nod, more than eager to help him take the fabric off of you. He laughs when you discard the material by throwing it half across the room but stops himself when he notices you’re now completely bare on top of him except for your underwear. 

“Fuck,” he mutters in a husky low-timbre, his hands reaching to cup your breasts. You reposition yourself so that you’re sitting on top of his bulge, relishing in the shaky sound that leaves his mouth when you grind yourself down on him. “I’ve wanted you from the moment we met, you know,” he says, kissing along your neck as he uses his thumbs to tease your pebbled nipples, pulling and tugging at the skin. “You’ve made it so damn hard not to want you. Teasing me when we were training, in the motel…” 

His gaze is fixed on your chest just above your collarbone and as you’re about to question him until his hand trails up to your neck, grabbing at the chain of your necklace and pulling tight until it snaps, falling broken and limp in his hand. 

“What–” 

“This necklace,” he replies, dangling it in front of your face. A gold rose pendant given to you by Chan the night of the gala is no longer in its place around your neck and you make notice as Felix chucks it across the room. It hits the wall and falls to the floor with a thump. 

“You’re mine, you hear me?” he says softly into your ear. “Not his. Mine.” 

He half-throws you across the bed so that he’s now positioned on top of you, smashing his lips aggressively against yours. You moan into him and wrap your legs around his waist, arching your back as he nips down your neck and chest, eventually wrapping a nipple in his mouth and lightly dragging his teeth against it. You gasp. 

“Fuck, your noises,” he breathes against your skin. “I want to hear you moan for me over and over again. You gotta try to be a little quiet though, yeah? Need those pretty sounds just for me.” 

You nod at him through half-lidded eyes, watching as he grabs and kneads at any available surface, using his hands to map out every inch of your body as if it were the last time he would ever see it. You can’t help the squeak that escapes you when his thumbs hook in the waistband of your underwear, breath heavy and close to the fabric dampening against your skin. 

“Felix,” you exhale shakily. 

“Need to taste you. Please? Fuck,” he says, his thumb pushing into the wetness over your panties. His eyes nearly roll back in his head at the squelching sound it makes. You nod at him and his face is pushed into your panties instantly, licking at your folds over the fabric in a way that can only be described as pornographic. You rock your hips upward, wrapping your thighs around his head and squeezing in an attempt to get the stimulation you desperately seek. He lets out a low, guttural groan at the action, fingertips bruising a grip into your thighs. 

When he actually attempts to take your underwear off this time, your hips are lifting up and shimmying out of the material with his help. In your opinion, they can’t get off of your body fast enough. You both let out twin sighs when he finally finally dives in, beautiful and melodic, in sync with one another. 

His lips connect with your clit, sucking first before exploring the area with his tongue. He’s skilled with his mouth, flicking it up and down and alternating with slow, hard circles. Your hands come up to your mouth to muffle your moans and Felix’s thumbs push into your hip bones in order to still your movements—you hadn’t realized you were rocking your hips into his face to get more friction. 

“Felix,” you moan again, this time to warn him of your impending orgasm. 

“I know, love,” he murmurs, tongue moving from your clit to dip shallowly into your hole. He’s enjoying this just as much as you are, you realize, his hips subtly grinding into the bed to relieve some pressure from his achingly hard bulge. He alternates between eagerly licking and flicking and sucking, and you’re almost there, so incredibly close, that when he reaches up to mindlessly thumb over your nipple you spill over the edge. 

He works you through your orgasm, not stopping his movements or slowing down as you explode against his face. Finally, when your hips stop moving and you’re done pulsing through the aftershocks, he pulls up from your center. His mouth and chin are wet from your release and he wipes his face, thumb swiping away the excess juices from his bottom lip as he looks at you with a shit-eating grin. 

“Fuck,” is the only thing you can say while you catch your breath. 

“What are you—Woah,” Felix says as you climb into his lap. Though he’s still clothed, your wet pussy sits just atop his hard cock, soaking the fabric of his pants. “Watch it. I don’t know how I’m going to control myself if you start something.” 

You nod solemnly, feigning defeat as you crawl off of his lap. Blinking up at him and his heaving chest, you smile devilishly as you bring your mouth down to his sweats, mouthing at his cock over the fabric. He looks down and lets out a shaky breath, winding his fingers harshly in your hair to pull you up and look into his eyes. 

“Y/N,” he warns. 

“What?” you tease. “You don’t want to feel my mouth on your cock?” 

“I… I, fuck, I do. Are you sure?” You palm him over the fabric, wrapping your lips over his length with the barrier of the material over him. When you look up at him through glossy eyes and nod your head at him, it’s like all resolve has left his body. He gives in easily, malleable to you and lifting his hips without protest when you drag down his pants and boxers in one swift blow. 

His cock slaps against his abs, long and pretty and elegant just like the rest of him. When you grip him in your hand he shudders, coming undone easily with little effort. You lick a long stripe up his length, your eyes never leaving his. 

“Do you even know what you do to me?” he murmurs, his hand coming to swipe a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture is awfully sweet for the situation you find yourself in. 

“You don’t know what you do to me,” you punctuate, gliding your hand up and down his cock. 

“Then tell me,” he breathes. 

“I’ve wanted you since day one. I’ve wanted you to ruin me, wanted you to fuck me so hard I forgot my name.” You suck on his tip, swirling your tongue around it with a pop while you use your hand to work his remaining length. “God, Felix, I’ve wanted you to pound into me, take me from behind, choke me–” 

It seems like that is his final straw because you’re on your back beneath him before you can even register what has happened. He cages you in under him with his arms, eyes darker than before and breath uneven. 

“Felix–” 

“You think you’re so cute, trying to rile me up, hm?” he asks into your ear, his deep voice sending chills down your spine. He nips at your ear, catching the lobe between his teeth and tugging gently; you can feel his warm breath down your neck and it’s no surprise that you’re worked up again. You make to push your thighs together to alleviate that growing pressure but Felix is there within the second, catching your thighs open with his torso and pressing his hips against yours. You can feel his cock against your leg and you can’t help the way your body arches, opens up, begging for him to just push inside. 

“Not trying to rile you up,” you whisper, meeting his eyes before staring at his lips a moment. 

“No?” he hums, tilting his head to the side in an almost mocking-manner. 

“Just telling the truth,” you say. “Just… want you. Need you so bad.” 

“Need me here?” he asks, grabbing his length and rubbing it up and down between your folds. Your breath catches in your throat and you almost cry when his tip catches against your clit. 

“Yes,” you beg, knowing he wants a verbal answer. 

He continues to tease for a moment and you all but thrash underneath him, your head moving from side to side. 

“Felix, fuck, I need you so bad. I want you to fuck me, please? Don’t you want it? I’m ready for you, I’m so wet, just please, let it in, I promise I–” 

He stops your rambling by flipping you over onto your stomach. He grabs you harshly by the waist and slams his cock into you before you can complain a second longer. Pushed to the hilt he stills a moment, relishing in the way you feel wrapped around him before continuing his ministrations, slamming his hips into you repetitively. He pulls you on and off of his length, completely using you for his own pleasure in a way that’s just so delicious you can’t help but moan. You push your face into your mattress in an attempt to muffle it. 

His pace is brutal and his hips snap into yours in a way that is bruising. The only sound that fills the room is his thighs hitting the back of yours and you can feel yourself approaching your high even faster than before. 

“Feel so good, like you’re made for me,” you hear, and you don’t have time to warn him before your orgasm crashes over you. He coos and praises you as you cum, tightening around him and spasming until you can’t move, can’t even make a sound from how fucked out you are. 

Felix isn’t far behind you, slamming into you once, twice more before he pulls out, releasing all over your ass. You collapse onto the bed, your eyes fluttering closed as you feel your actions catching up to you. You’re sore but tingly, and you register weight moving off the bed but you can’t bother to open your eyes. You feel a warm washcloth clean up your back and your naked form cuddles into Felix for quite some time, his hands rubbing soothing circles onto your back. He hums a soft but low tune that guides you to sleep even faster, a small ‘thank you’ escaping your lips before you fall into a peaceful slumber, absent of the nightmares that have been plaguing you. 

As your heart fills your chest all the way, you note that you’re happier than you have been since the day you arrived here, maybe even the day you started dating Jungwon all that time ago. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

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[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter nine:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ warnings: none, just pure, domestic soph and jack

➴ word count: 2.8k

➴ author’s note: we’re so close to the end of IYLM,LMK that i’m feeling a little bit emotional :,) hope u guys like this one and as always, thank u so much for reading

“HAVE you guys thought about how you’re going to announce your relationship?” Grace asked, throwing herself in the chair by the fireplace.

You were all in your house, Jack, Grace, Nico and you, chatting after a dinner together. It was the 19th of December, and you were all extremely busy: Jack and Nico with the season, you and Grace with your concert next week, at the Jingle Ball in New York, on the 23rd

“I think the best thing you could do is soft launch it,” Grace answered her own question, nodding. “It would be the move.”

Jack rested his chin on top of your head. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Soft launch means hinting that you’re dating someone without actually saying who it is,” you offered, sitting closer to him. You were all on the floor, and you were between Jack’s legs, drowning in his arms.

“Why would I do that?” He asked, and you can hear the annoyance in his voice. “If I am dating Soph, I want everyone to know about it.”

You smiled, amused with his answer.

“I know that, caveman, but it would be fun to let your fans speculate.” Grace answers back, rolling her eyes.

“Bullshit.”

You and Nico laugh, watching as Jack and Grace argue back and forth over the topic.

You haven’t thought about how you’d share your relationship status with your fans. Sure, you were head over heels for Jack and you— now— knew he felt the same, but you still had your fears and worries. If you announced that you are dating Jack and you both end up breaking up after that, you knew it would cause a commotion— lots and lots of people talking about you and your bad taste in guys and how unlucky you are.

But Jack was so… he was your forever, and you knew it.

It might be soon to say this, but it is just how you feel; Jack makes you feel special in a way only your family had done before and you could see your future with him, and you actually wanted it.

Nico and Grace left shortly after that, because you needed to start packing for your trip. You and Jack organized the kitchen, putting the dishes away and wiping the counters. Surprisingly, Jack did most of the chores himself and even liked doing them.

After you were done, you both went back to your bedroom, and you started organising your things.

“Are you going to perform in sweatpants?” He asked, looking genuinely curious.

You rolled your eyes and laughed, putting another pair of socks inside your bag. “Of course not, Hughes. The outfit I’m supposed to wear during the concert is in New York, because it’s just borrowed. I don’t actually keep the dresses or the skirts and tops I wear during events.”

“That sucks,” he laid on the bed. “I’d love to see you wearing one of those little skirts while you cook lunch.”

“Pervert,” you mumbled, trying to remember if you needed anything else.

“Do you really have to go tomorrow? The concert is on the 24th, baby,” Jack questioned, for the third time today. You smiled.

“You already know the answer, handsome.”

He got up and closed your bag, before putting it on the floor and picking you up, making you laugh. He threw you on the bed, gently, and stood on top of you, his hands on each side of your head.

“I’m gonna miss you, y’know,” he whispered, before placing a gentle kiss on your lips, making your heart beat faster. How’d you get so lucky?

“Me too,” you replied, placing your hands on his cheeks. “I’m still feeling shitty for telling your mom that I wouldn’t be able to spend Christmas with you guys. I really wanted to,” you confessed, furrowing your eyebrows.

Ellen called you when she found out about you and Jack, and rambled for thirty minutes about how she knew you were the right person for him and how she adored you and that you now needed to spend Christmas with them.

You expected yourself to feel overwhelmed and anxious because they were great people and you wanted them to like you, but you found yourself feeling nothing but happy when Ellen called.

But you couldn’t miss the concert and it was damn near impossible getting a plane ticket on the 25th, especially with all the snowing happening in New York. So, Christmas with Grace in your hotel bedroom it is.

“I still can’t believe you’ll be all alone with Grace.” Jack added, looking distressed.

“It’s just how my job works, baby,” you shrugged, giving him a half smile. “I’m sure that if you had to play during the holidays you would.”

He blinked twice before getting under the covers and dragging you with him, so you could be the little spoon, but facing him still.

“Yeah, I would, but it doesn’t mean I’d be happy with it.”

You wanted to tell him that you really didn’t mind that much, you loved performing and you loved to make your fans happy. But you could see he was genuinely upset about the whole situation, so you just snuggled closer and kissed his neck.

“Let’s just sleep, okay?” Your voice sounded lazy and tired, just like how you were feeling. “I leave early tomorrow and you have to go to practice.”

He didn’t say anything, just held you tighter, sighed and kissed your head. “See you tomorrow, baby.”

“Mhm,” you smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you more.”

Even if you thought that was up for debate, you didn’t say anything, embracing the sleep with open arms.

— ⛄️

“FIVE minutes!” You heard the stage manager’s yell in your earpiece, while you read Jack’s texts on your phone.

Texting before concerts and games was just another way of trying to be closer to each other, even when you were away. One of your fears was Jack getting bored of your relationship because you couldn’t be with him whenever he needed— sometimes you had to work on his days off and couldn’t see him.

But whenever he texted you before his games, or when he FaceTimed you before you went to bed, no matter what time it was for him, you could feel your fears stepping back. Jack was a really nice boyfriend for a guy who had never had a girlfriend before, that you had to admit.

You replied back, giving your phone to Grace before you stood behind the curtains, waiting for them to open so you could enter the stage.

The Madison Square Garden Arena was filled with people and screams. You were the opening act, so it was a huge deal. Grace gave you a good luck kiss before you stepped on stage, smiling at how many people were there.

As you step on stage, the energy is electric, with the twinkling holiday lights reflecting off the excited crowd. The first few beats of the "Nonsense Christmas Remix" kick in, and the playful, festive vibe fills the air. You can feel the audience sway with anticipation, and you smile, your mic ready in hand.

‘Think I only want you under my mistletoe.

I might change your contact to “Has a huge North Pole,”

You lean into the light-hearted, flirty tone of the song, weaving your voice through the fun, upbeat rhythm. The holiday bells add a sparkle to the track, making your performance feel like a holiday party. Every line you sing is filled with a blend of mischief and charm, and the cheeky Christmas-themed lyrics keep everyone grinning and tapping along.

You said you like my stockings better on the floor.

Boy, l've been a bad girl, I guess I'm gettin' coal (no).

Lemme come warm you up, you been out in the snow.

Baby, my tongue goes numb, sounds like "ho-ho-ho"

As the chorus hits, you play with the playful nature of the song, giving it a bit of sass while staying in tune with the holiday spirit. You make eye contact with the crowd, as if you’re sharing an inside joke. Each note you hit feels effortless, and the remix’s fun twists on the original song’s lyrics bring a fresh energy to the room.

I don't even know, I'm talkin' Christmas

I'm talkin', I'm talkin' (ah)

I'm talkin' deckin' all the halls, I'm talkin' spikin' eggnog

I'm talkin' opposite of small, I'm talkin' big snowballs.

As you continue singing, the festive mood only grows. The crowd is now fully engaged, swaying and singing along with the infectious, cheeky lyrics. Your voice dances through the light-hearted verses, especially when you hit those playful lines that make the audience chuckle. The jingle bells and upbeat tempo add a sparkle to every word, and you let your personality shine, matching the quirky vibe of the song.

You can’t help but play with the crowd, flashing a grin as you hit the fun twists on holiday references, dropping flirty lines with a wink. As the chorus repeats, you raise your mic toward the audience, inviting them to belt out the words with you. It’s not just a performance—it’s a holiday celebration, and you’re at the center of it. Your confidence grows with each note, feeding off the energy of the room, and by the final line, everyone is wrapped up in the joy and fun of the moment, feeling that special holiday magic you've helped create.

By the end, before you started saying the outro, you could feel the audience wrapped up in the joy of the season and your vibrant performance. You kneeled on the floor besides the crowd:

Tell me is that giant package for me?

Santa's too excited, he came early

Jingle Ball you're so hot I'm not worthy

The screaming was loud, even with the earpiece in. You were smiling so hard, your chest going up and down, your legs feeling like jelly from all the dancing and jumping but you were so freaking happy.

“Thank you so much, New York,” you breathed, blowing kisses left and right. “I hope all of you have a wonderful Christmas and I love you all so, so much. Thank you.”

You bowed before leaving the stage, thanking the band on your way out. You removed your earpiece, still hearing the screams outside. The backstage was a huge mess, with other artists coming at you to say “hi”, and you greeting them back.

Some random man escorted you to your dressing room, and you thought it was weird because usually Grace was the one to do this, but she was probably just busy. Thanking the man, you entered the room, ready to change into some normal, warm clothes because you were freezing—

“Hi, baby.”

Jack was standing in front of you, with his winter jacket and white teeth.

You stopped midway, covering your mouth with your hand.

Jack Hughes was standing in front of you, in the middle of your dressing room.

What.

“Jack?” You asked, even though you were clearly seeing him in front of you. You smiled back, jumping into his arms, happy when he picked you up— you were sweaty from all the dancing but you still squeezed him strongly. “Baby, what are you doing here?”

He held you closer, kissing your temple.

“I don’t know much about this boyfriend thing, but I’m pretty sure a good boyfriend wouldn’t let his girlfriend and her annoying best friend spend Christmas all alone so I thought I’d ask for a few favors.”

“The annoying best friend in question is still in the room, you fuckhead,” you heard Grace’s voice behind you and you removed yourself from Jack’s hold, turning around and facing Grace, who was now smiling back at you. “Surprise, babygirl.”

“Oh, Grace, I love you so much!” You hugged her, kissing her cheeks. “Could kiss you right now!”

“Let’s not do that, right, baby?” Jack pouted behind you, and you giggled. “Save the kisses for your man only.”

“You’re crazy,” you whispered, looking at Jack and then Grace. “Absolutely batshit. What if someone saw you?”

Jack opened his mouth to reply, but Grace was quicker. “Jack was supposed to be here the entire concert, but somehow he convinced the bodyguard to let him watch the show from the pit, and if that wasn’t enough, he took a picture with a fan and the fan’s girlfriend posted it on Twitter. So, yeah,” she shrugged, throwing daggers at Jack with her eyes. “Pretty much everyone knows he’s here.”

You stared at your boyfriend, only to watch him smile naughty. It was clear he didn’t give a fuck about people knowing.

“I wish I could say I knew what to do with you, but I don’t,” you told him, kissing his cheek lightly so that the lipstick wouldn’t smudge. “What about your family?”

“They actually encouraged me to come,” he put his hands inside his pockets. “Ma wanted to send a gigantic apple pie.”

“Let’s call them later, mhm?”

“Sure thing, baby,” he tilts his head, kissing you gently and quickly. “You killed it tonight. My little popstar.”

You blushed and opened your mouth to answer, but Grace was faster— again. “Guys, I’m still here. Please.”

You laughed, hugging her.

“Let’s go home, I’m still jet lagged and so fucking hungry I could eat two entire large pizzas alone.”

“New York pizza sucks, by the way,” Grace added, grabbing your clothes and handing them to you. “Can we have sushi?”

You looked at Jack, silently asking what he thought of it. He just nodded, sitting on the couch and waiting for you to change.

It was going to be a great night.

— ⛄️

“JACK, we shouldn’t be doing this, oh my God, what if I fall, what if I die here—”

You heard Jack’s precious laugh beside you. “You’re not going to die, baby. And if you fall, I’m here to catch you,” he winked at you, and you rolled his eyes, not finding the situation funny at all.

You convinced him to walk around New York, to see the Christmas decorations and drink hot chocolate, but it somehow backfired at you because the minute that man put his eyes on an ice rink, you were done.

You and Jack spent the entire 24th of December sightseeing together. New York was full of people, so you didn’t really bother hiding yourselves.

Grace said she wasn’t going to be the third wheel so she stayed at the hotel. You and Jack walked around, taking pictures and eating food that definitely weren’t in your diet plan but neither of you cared.

At the end of the day, when you were both ready to head back and order takeout, but now, you were both wearing skates.

With Jack skating smoothly beside you while you were holding onto his arm for dear life. The last time you skated on ice you were like twelve years old so your fear was understandable.

He put his hands on your waist, guiding you from behind, not letting you fall. You were still surprised with how secure he was on ice, but then you reminded yourself that he skated more than walked sometimes.

“See? You’re doing great, baby,” he whispered in your ear, and you smiled, feeling proud of yourself; forgetting completely that he was the one doing all the work. “You’re one step away from stealing my job.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, feeling more certain of your steps now. “This is actually super fun.”

He hums behind you, skating a little bit faster and taking you with him.

You were having so much fun. Jack felt warm beside you and you wanted nothing but to kiss him all the time.

He laughed at your jokes, took dozens of pictures of you, held you the entire time. He listened to your rambling about the lights and how good the city looked.

He bought you doughnuts and hot chocolate, and watched with a funny face as you shoved them in your mouth, only to complain about the hotness of the drink.

“Be careful, baby.” he said, kissing the tip of your cold nose.

“Thank you,” you whispered, giving him a kiss.

He held the side of your face with his right hand, while his left pulled you closer by the waist. You stood on the tip of your toes, trying to match his height. The kiss tasted like chocolate, sugar and something else that you couldn’t remember the name of, but it didn’t matter.

You ended up spending Christmas Eve eating take out inside a hotel room with your best friend and your boyfriend, facetiming your mom and sisters— your nieces loved Jack— and Ellen and Jim— she cooked the gigantic apple pie either way— but you never felt so whole and happy.

If it could get any better than this, you weren’t so sure.

— ♡

liked by njdevils, lhughes_06, canucks and 245,982 others

jackhughes Merry Christmas from soph and I

View all 1,990 comments

sophiamontenegro i love u

nicohischier Finally 🫡

user86 I TOLD YALL WHAAT THEYRE DATING ?!!/!/?/??:

user1 I think imma start doing drugs

user78 How tf did he pull her

user21 The way jack’s feed is hockey hockey brothers hockey and then BOOM famous popstar girlfriend is insane

trevorzegras heartbreaking 💔

jackhughes trevorzegras keep crying

_quinnhughes Congrats, Soph and Jackie! Merry Xmas 🤶

morgan.grace is this the “soft launch” we were talking abt jack😭

jackhughes morgan.grace bullshit

njdevils our future miss HUGHES 💜

user93 who even runs this account lmfao 😭😭😭

user11 we got jack hughes dating before gta6

user12 THEY’RE TOGETHER AGAIN?? WHAT ABT THAT GIRL AVA WHO SAID SHE WAS DATING HIM

user13 user12 she deactivated her account after this post so i can only imagine she was lying 🤷🏽‍♀️

+

[gayeddieagenda]

assigning u 47: “touching their elbow to get their attention” + 🥺🌌🛠️

scene prompt game! these r soo fun <3

--

Funny thing happened, Eddie says, and Buck leans into him, easy gravity.

The log they’re sitting on is long enough for half a dozen people, but it’s just the two of them, shoulder to shoulder, at the far end of the backyard. They’ve been filling time, since they finished with their official chaperone duties of overseeing the building of the tents. Tent stakes and mallets are a lot simpler than most of the tools they deal with on the job, but add a couple dozen thirteen-year-olds to the mix, and Eddie’s grateful to be able to step back for a second. Let Jaime’s dad and his acoustic guitar take the lead for a little while.

“What was it?” Buck asks.

It’s funny. When she—Allegra’s mom, whose name Eddie’s been trying to remember for fifteen minutes—said it, Eddie’s first instinct was to pretend that it never happened. Then, Buck drops next to him on the log and Eddie starts talking.

“One of the moms came up while you were”—Eddie waves a hand in the air, trying to encompass helping half a dozen thirteen-year-olds build tents in a gesture—“and she, uh. She asked where my husband was.”

Eddie looks at Buck out of the corner of his eye. He’s not sure what he thinks about it. He’s got a feeling like he was waiting for Buck before he reacted. Buck would tell him what he was supposed to feel, if he was supposed to feel anything at all.

Buck laughs without missing a beat.

He bumps his shoulder against Eddie’s. “Who was it this time?”

“This time?” Eddie repeats.

“It wasn’t Mariah, was it?” Buck continues. “Every time I meet her, I get the feeling she’s pretending to remember me.”

Eddie shakes his head. He doesn’t even know who Mariah is. “It was Allegra’s mom.”

“Kelly?” Buck asks, and that’s, yeah. That’s the name Eddie couldn’t remember. Buck laughs. “Aw, c’mon, Kelly! I’ve met her like a hundred times.”

“This, uh. This happens a lot?” Eddie asks. He feels...he doesn't know how he feels, when Buck isn't blinking an eye at this.

Buck tilts his head to the side. He peers at Eddie, looking like he’s seeing him for the first time. “Uh, yeah,” he says. “It doesn’t happen to you?”

“No,” Eddie says honestly.

“Huh,” Buck says.

He leans back on his hands on the log, still looking at Eddie. When Eddie first pitched the idea of Buck coming to chaperone Chris’s science club camping night, Buck had lit up. He insisted on taking Eddie to two different sporting goods stores to make sure they had everything they needed, poring over shelves of sets of dishes and flashlights like they were going to be in the woods for a week, not Mrs. Romano’s backyard for a night. Neither of them thought it was weird, Buck coming to one of Chris’s events. Chris only thought it was the regular amount of weird; he’d rolled his eyes when Eddie said he was volunteering to be a chaperone, and rolled his eyes slightly less when he said Buck was coming along too.

It wasn’t weird. Buck’s been going to Chris’s school stuff since at least their second year of knowing each other, maybe earlier. It would be nice even if Buck were just doing it to take pity on Eddie and make sure he’s not doing all the parent things by himself; it’s something else that Buck wants to be there for Chris just as much as Eddie does. It’s their routine. It’s--it's what they do.

“Sorry,” Buck says. “I thought this was just, like, one of those things. We both knew about it, so we didn’t have to talk about it.”

“I did not know about it,” Eddie says.

Buck bumps his shoulder. “Hey,” he says. “Are you spiraling about it?”

“No, Buck,” Eddie says. He rubs a hand over his face. “I’m coming to terms with the fact that half the parents of my son’s friends think I’m married to you. I’m not spiraling about it.”

“Guess that explains why more of them aren’t trying to set you up with their single mom friends, huh?” Buck says. He grins, elbowing Eddie again. “I think it’s kind of cute. You know, us being married.”

Cute.

Eddie’s not sure, now, why he thought that hearing Buck’s perspective would clear this up for him. He thinks about Buck, fielding assumptions that he and Eddie are together for the better part of five years, and Eddie feels the opposite of clarified.

They’re sharing a tent. They put it together as soon as they got here, before the kids borrowed all the tools and didn’t come back with them. Eddie didn’t own a sleeping bag of his own, so Buck picked him up one, the same brand as Buck’s, a dark orange to Buck’s green. It’s funny, suddenly, thinking about lying down next to Buck in the tent tonight. Knowing that there’s parents here who think that’s just what they do every night, in their house, in the bed they share.

“Oh, hey.” Buck catches Eddie’s elbow and points. Eddie follows him, first down to the point of contact, feeling Buck’s grip through the fabric of his jacket, then up along the line of Buck’s gaze to the sky. “You can see the stars.”

It’s true. When the sun went down a couple hours ago, it brought with it the typical evening gloom of LA. Just above the treeline, there’s a break in the clouds, opening up the night sky behind them.

It’s not exactly the middle of nowhere, but the Romanos live a little out of the city, just far enough that the stars actually show up in the darkness. Enough that Eddie can pick out a couple of constellations he still half-remembers from school textbooks, from sitting on the back porch back home, from sneaking out to sit on the empty bleachers behind the high school at one and two in the morning and just look.

Eddie looks down. Buck is still watching the sky, an easy look on his face.

Eddie has this wind chime.

He got it at a flea market. Chris found it, actually, in the back of some tent full of antique toys and kitchenware that reminded Eddie of his abuela’s house. He decided he liked it and it was only three bucks, so they took it home. Eddie hung it up in the tree in the backyard, where Chris suggested. You can see it from the kitchen window.

It might be homemade. It’s simple: colored glass hanging on strings in a circle. Someone etched pictures onto the glass, little scratched-out images of birds on each side. When the wind blows, the strings spin, sending the glass in circles. The pictures blur together.

Here they are. Buck and Eddie, sitting next to each other in the dark of almost-night. Best friends. Partners. Chris’s, the people who show up to take him to camping nights and school trips. Spin it, and they’re what Kelly sees—partners of a different kind. Together. Eddie can see them both in his mind’s eye, him and Buck on either side of the glass. Spinning.

Buck’s hand is still on his elbow.

“Hey, Buck,” Eddie says. Buck’s expression, when he finds Eddie’s face, is wide-open. “When we get home tomorrow—you wanna stay? For the day?”

Buck grins. “Yeah,” he says. “Of course.”

The string spins.

[1d1195]

Thursday

Read Tuesday and extras here | 2.8k words

From me: based on this ask/suggestion

Warnings: fluff, a bit of angst

Summary: A lot of things are back to normal. Like coffee dates, movie nights, and sharing a skin routine with Niall. But some things are a little uncharted. Like onions, bookmarks, dishes, and exes.

“What’s your favorite day of the week?” She asked.

“Friday of course,” Niall rolled his eyes. “What else would it be?”

“Saturday, obviously,” Harry stared at his friend as he brought a glass of water from the kitchen. He held it out to her. “Here, kitten.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, taking a long sip before Harry took it back from her and placed it on the coffee table in front of them. “Thursday is my favorite,” she told the pair. Harry fell into the seat beside her, his hand immediately resting on the inside of her leg, squeezing her thigh gently.

“Thursday!?” Niall’s eyebrows pinched together. “You still have a whole workday left! Why would you like Thursday?”

She shrugged. “Just... it’s a good day, you know? It’s anticipating for Friday. It’s nice.”

Harry stared at her dreamily. She could feel him look at her in her peripheral. It had been a while since someone looked at her the way he was looking at her. It hadn’t been long since they admitted they still loved each other. Only a few months. They settled back into the same normal routines they had when they dated the first time. “S’cute, love,” he squeezed her leg. “What movie are we doing tonight, Ni?”

“What number are we on?”

Harry shrugged. “Oh, I haven’t a clue. Think Mitch is keeping us on track.”

Since they started seeing one another again, she hadn’t come to one of their weekly movie nights. It made her feel better about not being overbearing and needy. But Harry invited her every week. Niall too. You don’t have to be here because of Harry. I want you here just as much as he does—maybe more because I’m ready to tie you to a chair to stay, Princess.

So finally, after countless invites, she finally caved. Not that it was hard. She was excited to be there. Their group of friends had been making their way through the Best Picture Oscar winners since the award’s beginning. It was cool to see how things changed over time, and it was really adorable to hear the way Harry talked about it. “I don’t have to stay for movie night,” she reminded Harry quietly. “If you want time with just your friends without—”

Although his mouth opened to protest, it wasn’t Harry that answered. “Princess, don’t be ridiculous,” Niall rolled his eyes. “Course we want you here. Help us pick out food.”

Niall cast his phone to the TV screen and was scrolling through the nearby places that would deliver to them in the next hour when their other friends arrived. “M’feeling pizza I think,” Harry suggested.

“Pizza it is,” Niall selected their favorite pizza place and began selecting way more pizza than seven people could ever eat.

“Make sure there’s one without onions.”

Her heart fluttered that Harry remembered that about her after all their time apart. Part of her thought about just going with it, never admitting the change in her palate. But she didn’t want to lie. “Actually,” she cleared her throat. “I like onions now,” she admitted almost shyly. Like she wasn’t allowed to change her mind.

“Y’do?” Harry blinked and turned fully toward her. A delighted smirk on his lips. It made the dimple in his left cheek pop through prominently.

She nodded. “Not sure how it happened. Think I accidentally ate something with onions in it and didn’t pick them out like a five-year-old. It actually tasted good. I like French onion soup now and everything,” she explained.

Harry’s smile grew, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead as if it was a bigger to do than it was; like winning an award or something. “I told y’that y’would like them,” he chuckled. She rolled her eyes and buried her face in his chest. “So brave,” he teased.

“Oh, shut it,” she laughed. “Did you at least warn them that I would be here?” She asked.

“Sarah is really looking forward to seeing you,” Niall once more took the lead in explaining. “She is tired of being the only girl around.”

While it wasn’t fully said, she knew Harry had been seeing a girl. In one way or another. It wasn’t a bad thing, she wasn’t judging. But Harry got exceedingly cagey about it whenever she tried to broach the subject. “What about—”

Harry squeezed her thigh again. A silent directive to stop her question. Niall smirked as Harry cut off her inquiry (and Niall’s impending quip). “Y’could bring a girl home, y’know,” Harry reminded him.

“She’ll be so jealous of our princess here,” Niall winked making her laugh. It really felt so easy. So simple. Just being back where she was supposed to be. Like nothing had changed at all. “Holding out for the one, Harold. You should know something about that,” he said knowingly and finished placing the pizza order. His phone screen disappeared from the TV, and he left the room.

She didn’t want Harry to feel like he had to hide part of his life from her. They were adults. He was allowed to see anyone he wanted. “You know...you can talk about someone you dated—”

“We didn’t date.”

“—pardon, fucked,” she smirked.

Harry rolled his eyes, his cheeks turning a shade redder than she thought he needed to turn. It didn’t bother her that Harry had a life outside of her. He was unbelievably handsome. Unbelievably sweet. He deserved to be happy. She wasn’t jealous of someone else in his life when she had no claim to him in any way. “I jus’ don’t think s’polite t’talk ‘bout her t’you,” he shrugged. “S’rude.”

“Okay,” she nodded encouragingly. “If that’s how you feel, I just wanted you to know you could if you wanted to.”

Harry seemed a little less on edge about it after that, but she noted his grip on her thigh loosened. Even though she kinda liked how his fingers felt pressed into her skin. She figured she could tell him later when they were alone... and her clothes weren’t in the way.

*

They sat in the very coffee shop she used to work in. It was nice to get out and have an inexpensive date—even with two grown up jobs it was smart to sit and relax in the comfy seats and sip coffee they loved so much. It made her heart flutter that Harry still knew her order after so much time. Or maybe that was a comment on her stubbornness to change. “You should try the hazelnut drink they just got,” she smiled at him as they stood in line, holding hands. “It made me think of you.” The overlap of seeing him after two years and the new drink reminded her of all the things he loved and all the things she remembered loving about him. He leaned toward her and kissed her cheek.

Once seated, Harry stretched his legs; they invaded her space beneath the table. But it didn’t seem to bother her. He admired her concentration on the book she was reading; the little furrow of her brow, the way her lips pursed together. She was so adorable, and Harry didn’t think she even knew. Beneath the table he nudged her leg with his knee, and she glanced up at him. He could tell she didn’t want to look up from her book. But he smiled at her. A smile that made her heart and stomach twist because he was so Harry, so perfect. It made her smile back.

“Harry!”

Both their heads turned to the voice. But after a brief moment, she turned to look at Harry. Trying to piece together the recognition. She came up short, but Harry stood and greeted the girl with a hug politely. There was a little flutter of jealousy that pinched her heart and she waited patiently.

“Kitten, this is Hailey,” his voice was neutral.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she cleared her throat and stood.

Hailey was beautiful. There was no question about it. When she left, she was going to ask about a thousand questions. Starting with if she was a model. Then asking Harry if she knew what kind of hair products she used.

“Same to you,” she smiled politely. Her voice took on a new tone as she turned back to Harry. It was obvious her problem wasn’t with her, for which she was grateful. “Hadn’t heard from Harry in a while.”

“That’s my fault,” Harry’s voice was low. As if he was exhausted. She could tell Harry wanted out of this conversation. Curiosity was getting the better of her as she tried to imagine if she had ever met Hailey prior or heard the name in any stories Niall had told.

“How long have you been seeing each other?” Hailey asked. She noticed her tone was getting harsher by the second. Her glare bored into Harry’s face.

She opened her mouth to say, ‘a few months,’ and get her attention away from her boyfriend. But Harry beat her to the punch. “Two and a half years,” he told her.

Hailey quirked an eyebrow up and she tilted her head at him curiously because while true, technically, there was a large two-year gap between the ‘two’ and the ‘half’ part of his sentence. But it did make her heart happy that he was willing to let the gap slide into oblivion. It would definitely require explanation, but it was nice.

Hailey looked at Harry for a long moment. “That’s news to me.”

“Hailey,” he said quietly.

“I can let you guys talk if—”

“S’fine, kitten,” he said quickly.

Hailey looked irritated beyond belief. She wished she fully knew why because right now the only thing she felt was overwhelming uncomfortableness. Quietly she sat in her seat and folded the page of her book down. Harry did a double take and shook his head before turning his attention back to Hailey.

“You ghosted me,” she said.

Harry closed his eyes. “I did,” he admitted. “But we were never...”

“I deserved more than that.”

“You did,” he agreed. It clicked. The girl that Harry wasn’t dating. The girl he was fucking in some arrangement that she didn’t know about. Her cheeks felt warm just knowing what happened. Hailey looked pissed. Her eyes were fueled with anger. “But we weren’t exclusive.”

She continued to glare at him. “You’re an ass.”

“Yes,” Harry nodded in agreement.

It almost seemed like Hailey was mad Harry was agreeing with her. Not that she could fully look at the scene unfolding in front of her to truly gauge it. She was taking extreme interest in her coffee cup. Hailey grabbed Harry’s cup of coffee, pulled the lid off and she closed her eyes as Harry braced for the cold liquid to cover him. “Good luck,” Hailey said in her direction then marched off to the exit. Once out of the shop and everyone was watching Harry drip from head to toe, she jumped into action. She asked her former coworkers for some towels, and she felt her face heat with embarrassment on behalf of Harry. If she wasn’t there, maybe that wouldn’t have happened. Perhaps Hailey would have had a conversation with Harry that she fully deserved and she wouldn’t have felt the need to dump coffee all over him.

“Kitten,” Harry murmured as she dabbed at his clothes and cleaned up the puddle at his feet. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

She smiled weakly. “It’s okay. Are you alright?”

“M’so embarrassed,” he admitted.

She shook her head. “Let’s get out of here,” she squeezed his arm.

“But our date...”

She laughed quietly. “I mean, I wanted you out of your clothes anyway,” she teased.

Harry chuckled, his cheeks turning slightly pink with her flirtatious joke, and looked at his feet. “Yeah? You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” She asked. There was a long pause as she gathered their belongings, returned the towels to the front where she thanked them profusely. Then she held the door open for Harry, sticky with coffee. He shrugged.

“I didn’t...” He sighed. “I didn’t want to tell you about her.”

“Why?”

“Because, kitten. If I knew y’were fucking some guy for the last two years without any strings attached I would be jealous out of m’mind,” he explained. “I’d be jealous if there were strings.”

She made a mental note to keep her ex to herself. “Well... I’m not mad. I wish you had told me so you could have ended things—”

“She was getting attached. I didn’t want a relationship. I started cutting it off weeks before I heard from you. I had only seen her once or twice in the months prior. She texted every now and again. I didn’t want a relationship,” he repeated. She got a jacket he had left in his backseat to lay over the driver’s seat so he wouldn’t have a car that smelled like sour coffee for the rest of time. They could always wash the jacket.

“No?” She asked. Harry took his seat and waited until she was in the passenger seat to continue.

He shook his head. “Now that I have y’back... I don’t know why we broke up,” he tapped his hands on the steering wheel. Her heart fluttered. “S���obvious now. M’not... I don’t know, kitten. Dating didn’t make sense after you. I tried. Really,” he assured her. “S’jus’... you were... you are special.”

She bit the inside of her cheek and felt the heat warm her skin with adoration and embarrassment. “You don’t have to pretend like you didn’t have a life while I wasn’t around.”

“I know. And I was wrong for how I handled Hailey,” he assented.

“Maybe, yes. But she didn’t need to pour coffee all over you.”

“At least it was iced,” Harry chuckled. She smiled. “Are we okay?”

“Of course,” she giggled.

Harry sighed with relief and grabbed her hand. He kissed her knuckles. Turning the car on and backing out of the spot. “Since when d’you fold the page of y’book like a serial killer?”

*

Harry always sucked at doing dishes. When she stayed at his house in the beginning of their relationship it drove her nuts to no end. He used too many and piled them high. Then he would leave them without soaking for so long it was miserable. It wasn’t even her responsibility to do the dishes but she felt like it was after he did all the cooking.

Which was why when he finished making dinner for them on a night in, she was floored to see him doing the dishes right away. Soaking and scrubbing them as she had done so many times over.

“You don’t like dishes,” she mumbled in surprise putting leftovers in Tupperware and condiments in the fridge.

He smirked glancing over his shoulder. “Didn’t realize how much I was torturing you all the years ago.”

She gaped. “What?”

“Niall went t’do the dishes after me shortly after we broke up,” he chuckled. “Said, ‘no wonder she broke up with you; I don’t even want t’be your roommate right now.’ Y’should have said something, kitten.”

Her cheeks felt warm. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“No,” he nodded firmly. “It was pretty bad, baby,” he nudged her with his hip.

She giggled and took the large pan that Harry had used to make stir fry (something that she had forgotten he made so well. It was delicious) and began drying it. “I don’t know, seemed like a bitchy thing to say ‘hey, I know you just made dinner for me and it was delicious and a lot of work, but I kind of want to strangle you for how difficult it is to wash the dishes.’”

He flicked water at her making her wrinkle her nose. The expression was adorable, made her look even cuter than she normally did so that Harry’s heart skipped a beat. “Y’can’t hide stuff like that, kitten. Y’do that and I won’t know m’gonna lose you so I can fix it,” he winked.

“I hope you don’t lose me,” she mumbled.

He chuckled. “Whatcha say, love?” He wrapped his arms around her waist. His hands were still wet and he avoided her shirt as much as possible, holding her slightly awkwardly but it was cute. “Think m’gonna be stupid enough t’lose y’twice?”

She giggled and shook her head. “Not if I have a say in it,” she draped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. He seemed to melt into the kiss—forgetting his hands were wet and getting the back of her shirt wet as well.

Which was fine by him.

He wanted her out of her shirt anyway.

—

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[formosusiniquis]

y'know like barbie

ao3

It's Erica who gives him the idea, incidentally. Though she carries herself with a maturity that far surpasses the boys most days and though she's been through multiple life altering events, she does continue to only be eleven. Which is, it turns out, prime babysitting age.

The Sinclairs are going out of town overnight, it's their anniversary -- 18 blissful years, since our marriage can vote we thought we deserved a night away -- and they don't want Erica to spend the night home alone.

Enter Steve, who the Sinclairs trust with their children and who is inexplicably the only person Erica would accept staying the night with her. Steve honestly didn't believe it even as Mrs. Sinclair was saying it. But he smiles and nods, looks over the emergency numbers on the fridge when they're pointed to, nods at the money on the counter for food that he probably won't take, and waves as they walk out the door promising that he and Erica will be fine for the night and not to worry.

It's only when their car is out of the driveway and the door is shut that Steve realizes he isn't really a babysitter. He is a keep children alive while in a dangerous situation and when the situation is over drive them around because you feel bad that their childhoods have been marred by trauma-er which doesn't have quite the same ring as babysitter, and it's a lot harder to say with that rude tone the boys have been favoring. He also realizes that he's never actually dealt with children, or not girl children. The boys had all been older than Erica, when he had started keeping them alive. Max was definitely basically a teenager when he started really dealing with her; and she was usually okay to do what the boys wanted to do, like go to the arcade. Hopper didn't really trust him with El and that was fine, he wasn't sure he trusted himself with El either.

It put him in an awkward spot now though. Staring at Erica in her kitchen, a little afraid to ask the question on the front of his mind which was "What now?"

So he asks the second question on his mind, "What do you want to do that isn't eat ice cream all night?"

Say what you will about Steve Harrington, and a lot has been said, but he always keeps his promises and he always brings a pint of ice-cream for Erica to have when he comes over to the Sinclair house. Tonight he brought three, all different weird flavors he thought she'd like to try.

"Why can't I eat ice cream all night?" She says it with a challenge in her eyes, but he'd bet dollars to donuts that she's just doing it to make him sweat. "Because I've seen you eat ice cream, we've only got enough for two hours at most." His hand migrates as if of its own mind to his hip. "You need more than two people for Dungeons and Dragons, right?"

Her brows raise, for the first time since he's met her Erica Sinclair is stunned silent. Maybe she's just surprised he got the name right.

It lasts about as long as it takes him to notice it. "You'd play Dungeons and Dragons with me?" There's something fragile in the way she asks, and there is the eleven year old girl she's meant to be. 

"Sure, you'd have to show me how, but if that's what you want to do I'm game."

Eyes narrowed in a distinctly intimidating way he kind of thinks she stole from Nancy, he does his best to make his sincerity clear on his face. "We need more than two people, but I've got something else we can do if you think your fragile manhood can take it."

He's got a retort at the tip of his tongue about just what his manhood can take and remembers just in time that yeah probably shouldn't make a joke like that in front of an actual child. "My pride isn't that delicate, I think I can handle anything you dish out."

"Famous last words."

He follows her to her bedroom, waiting outside the doorway to let her space stay private until he's told to come in. A clear plastic tub slides out from under her bed, out of sight but easily accessible and when the lid pops off he gets why. Rows of Barbies stacked neatly on top of each other, a mass grave for childhood. Steve has a stuffed bear, fur rubbed off of one ear, tucked up on the shelf of his closet that also got put away sooner than he would have chosen to, when it was too babyish.

“Alright, so who is the, like, elven warrior.”

“That’s not how you play Barbies.”

It’s snapped so fast that he thinks it embarasses her. He tactfully avoids eye contact, pulling out a doll with blonde hair snipped into a professional, if uneven, bob and a green skirt set. She's missing a shoe. “Then how do I play Barbies?”

“That one just won the Nobel Peace Prize, she solved world hunger, but she has plans to kill the Barbie who won the prize in Physics because she stole Barbie One’s research and gave it to NASA claiming it was her own.”

“Right, of course.” This was the kind of shit that happened on Dallas, only Barbie had a lot more awards. “And they’re all called Barbie?”

“Except for Ken, but Ken doesn’t do anything.”

“Well if Barbie just won the Peace Prize wouldn’t she use Ken to kill Barbie so she doesn’t get caught.”

Erica manages a look that is both condescending and considerate. “Barbie can do anything, including get away with murder; but she wouldn’t want to dirty her hands with that sort of thing.”

“And if Ken goes to jail it’s no loss.”

“Right.”

-

So maybe it's more accurate to say that Dustin actually starts it.

Dustin with the shittiest attitude this side of the Ohio, something Robin blames him for.

“Like father, like son.”

“Dustin doesn’t even know his dad.”

“I mean you and Eddie, dingus.”

“I am not that kid's dad. A brotherly figure at best, strong male role model more likely.”

“He’s a bitch because you are, Steve. Maybe if your and Eddie’s love language wasn’t being as bitchy as possible it wouldn’t have rubbed off on your kid.”

“Please don’t put Dustin and rubbing off in the same paragraph let alone the same thought wave.”

Dustin comes sprinting into Family Video on a Tuesday afternoon. “Steve! I need your car.”

“Did you learn how to drive when I wasn’t paying attention?”

“Obviously, I meant I need you too.” His hands are on his hips, eyes rolled. Shit maybe he did get it from Steve. “There’s this theoretical physicist coming to Notre Dame to give a talk on the Multiverse Theory.”

Steve was allowing himself a second to consider whether this was worth it, for once, instead of just blindly agreeing to drive Dustin wherever. The drive sucked ass, but it would put him close enough to Chicago that he could try to find a music store that would carry albums from the international metal bands Eddie couldn’t stop talking about.

It was a second too long for Dustin. “Steve, a theoretical physicist-”

See Steve had this suspicion that the kids did actually think he was an idiot. He was pretty sure that none of them, hell maybe none of Hellfire, save for Lucas realized that every athlete in the school had to keep up at least a 2.5 GPA. Which might not have been anything to write home about but Steve kept a 3.2 for most of high school, until the multiple concussions started to catch up with him. He wasn’t stupid, was the point and even if they didn’t think he was an idiot in a mean way he was a little sick of the shit.

“I know, like Barbie.”

That shuts Dustin up real quick.

“N- no, not like Barbie! Barbie is some girl's toy.”

“Excuse me?” Robin, who told Steve that she would not help him parent his children on work days or any other day ending in y had remembered that Martes doesn’t have one and her shift was almost over. “What does that mean, exactly, a girl’s toy?”

“And,” Steve adds, because he can and because Eddie made him drive him to fucking Bloomington because he was fixated on time travel and needed access to some science journal that only existed at Indiana U apparently, “Barbie is on a research team looking for the Higgs particle so she can start figuring out time travel.”

The bell chiming as Dustin leaves has never sounded sweeter.

He’ll definitely end up taking the twerp to stupid Notre Dame.

-

The thing is that Steve thinks he’s never really stopped being a bitch.

He doesn’t want to stop. He likes being bitchy. It’s fun, when you’re doing it with people you like it’s pretty funny, and honestly he’s kinda like Spiderman. With great power comes great responsibility, he’s only bitchy responsibly now.

And it’s actually perfectly responsible as an older brother type babysitter figure to correct the behavior of the younger siblings by being bitchy. If they don’t learn at home they’ll go out in the world thinking that kind of behavior is acceptable, see Steve Harrington in his early high school days who talked to people like his father did.

So when Mike interrupts El with, “I’m not going to ask Steve, he probably doesn’t even know what a Pulitzer is either.”

He says, “Oh, yeah like Barbie won. Or Nancy will someday, probably. It’s a journalism award, Wheeler.”

And when Lucas corrects, “I don’t actually think you can win an award for comics. It’s still really great though, Will!”

“Barbie won the Kirby Award in 1985 for best artist, I’m sure Will is soon to follow.”

Or when Nancy tells Holly, “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to be something important instead?”

“You could be an actress and do something cool like go to space if you want, Hols, like Barbie.” And maybe he says it with a little more bitch than he should that time, but he’s seen the ballerinas in Nancy’s room, she didn’t always want to be an investigative journalist.

It gets to be second nature. When someone starts being shitty about something or to lighten the mood.

Erica doubts whether she should run for student council. It's her first step to being actual president, like Barbie.

Dustin makes a crack about Steve's possible future prospects when he butts in on a conversation between Steve and Robin. "I could do all three, I could be a counselor and a hair stylist and an engineer. Maybe I'll add EMT too, Barbie wouldn't stop at three, why should I?"

Or when Mike sneers at him, "What are you a cop?" All because Steve told him not to buy weed now that Eddie had stopped dealing.

"Ew, no, because you look like a fresh-faced little narc trying to be cool and you're gonna get ripped off."

"What so not like Barbie?"

"The Barbie world has achieved equality at a level that it doesn't need the cops." Eddie sometimes has to get high after a run in with Powell or Calahan who he still doesn't really trust after the spring. Steve has been treated to many a lecture on why the police were a waste of resources.

He lets Mike sit with that for a minute before he adds, "Like Barbie, I am very cool and know what it looks like when I'm being taken for a ride. If you're gonna get pot from someone other than Eddie, ask Hop where he used to get all of his shit."

It doesn't feel stupid, until El comes running into the cabin one afternoon that Steve has decided to join the rebuilding effort. It’s actually just him and Hop, who has started trying to quietly parent him, something he’s not entirely convinced isn’t revenge for telling Wheeler that Hop has smoked pot before. Steve is pretty sure El was crying when she came in, something he bumps up to a certainty when he sees how awkward Hop looks right now.

“You mind taking that kid? It’s been a long time since high school.” he rubs the back of his neck, Steve does appreciate that he has the decency to feel weird about asking. “If it’s anything outside of big brother shit I can take over.”

He does let himself get suckered by that big brother line.

El is facedown on her bed in a clear ‘leave me alone I’m crying’ pose but he figures he’s already here it’s not like he can turn around and tell Hop that he was too afraid to approach a crying teenage girl. Like that wasn’t the whole reason he’d been sent in the first place. “Hey Ellie, can I come in?”

She sits up, tear tracks plain on her face but no more are falling, and nods in that endearing, aggressively certain way she’s got. “Is everything okay?” He pauses and asks, “Was it Mike?” because he knows that’ll be the first thing Hopper asks when Steve comes back out.

“You are worse than Dad.”

“That stings, Ellie Bell.”

She takes a deep breath, steeling an already impressive will, “Lucas says it is okay to just want to be happy right now, but all they talk about is what they are going to do. Dustin is talking about going to admission early, Will talks about talking to Dad and Joyce about art school, Lucas worries about his sports and scholarships, and Mike talks about classes that count twice. I do not know what I want to be. I do not know why I have to be anything.”

“You guys have been through a lot. I don’t think anyone would blame you for taking time to just be a kid.”

“What if I never want to be something? What if I do not ever want to go to college?”

He’s made his way over to the bed with her, sits tentatively on the edge like he’s seen Joyce do before. “Then you don’t. You’ll probably have to get a job at some point, but that doesn’t have to be what you are. Lucas isn’t a landscaper just because he mows lawns in the summer.”

“You don’t think Dad would be upset?” she asks.

“I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would really make Hop mad. And you might change your mind. I've been out of school for almost two years and I’m only thinking about college now. Or you could go to college and change your mind about what you want to be. You could be a hundred things, you could be anything! Like Barbie.”

He feels like an idiot almost immediately. A jerk quickly after that. He’s made El’s genuine crisis part of his stupid running joke. But something settles in the room. The underlying tension, the thing that had the hair on the back of his neck raised. He realizes, now, that her powers had probably also been on edge.

"Like Barbie." She says it with a graven seriousness, like Steve's dumb little joke is a mantra now.

"Yeah, and you're a sophomore you don't have to have your whole life figured out right now. And don't take life advice from Henderson anyway, he thought it was a good idea to raise an Upside Down slug as a pet."

He mostly just used it to be a bitch though. Because it was fun. No, it was what he was good at. So good at it he didn't even have to try.

Because Steve had a plan to be bitchy. Specifically to Mike Wheeler who kept flirting with Steve’s boyfriend while taking advantage of his hospitality. Sure it was at their stupid Dungeons and Dragons game, and yeah Steve was the one who said they could host the game at his house now that Eddie had graduated. Yes, he knew Eddie didn't mean anything by it when he responded and usually didn't flirt back with the kids. But it was still the kind of behavior that had to be gently corrected, for Mike's sake because if he didn't stop things were going to get drastic.

His initial plan is already in action. He encouraged El to come along to watch the Party play. It was, admittedly, a half hearted plan. Wheeler got so awkward anytime El was around he mostly just hoped that would keep him from trying anything.

It isn't. Eddie starts to describe a new character, "Blonde and statuesque, she has a long bow in hand and delicate elven features."

And even though El is sitting a few feet from him Mike perks up the way he always does when there's a new NPC to flirt with. He is going to have to have a talk with Eddie about letting the kid try out a bard.

He does at least have one other tool in his belt. "Oh, like Barbie."

Steve knew what he'd get as he said it. A groan from Dustin, who falls for this as being sincere about as often as he falls for the dumb-dumbs and dipshits line -- which is everytime for the record. Will and Lucas keep their laughs small, enough that they're covered by Erica's snort. The original Hellfire crew mostly looks confused, it's becoming less and less their default as they warm up to the Steve he is rather than the Steve they thought they remembered; but he likes to keep them on their toes.

Eddie is charmed. He can tell. Sees him duck his head behind his screen and his binders, trying to preserve the stern and scary dungeon master image. That apparently isn't possible if you're smiling like an idiot at your stupid boyfriend, so he's been told.

And Mike has maybe been on the wrong end of the joke a few more times than everyone else. He turns an interesting shade of red, two parts anger and one part embarrassed is Steve's guess. The foot stomp is unexpected, but he expects its been passed down the Wheeler line as a shared signal of outrage. "Not like Barbie, this isn't some stupid kids game. She's probably a hot, wisened archer ready to reward us for helping her village, not some stupid doll that you're obsessed with."

Eddie's blank face with the twitchy eyes has fallen into place when he sits back up from behind his screen. His things aren't going according to plan, panicked face. "I think that's a good place to end things this week. Wheeler, Henderson, Jeff, and Lady Applejack you've all cleared enough experience to level right? Do that before next week."

Steve knows enough to keep his mouth shut while everyone packs up to leave. Sends a small smile to Erica on her way out to the family minivan, he knows she struggles a little being the youngest at the table even if she won't say it. He has to imagine that the outburst had stung a bit.

"You gotta be nicer to little Wheeler." Eddie chides once everyone is gone, halfhearted at best when he's telling Steve off into the soft skin of his neck. When he feels the admonishment more than hears it.

"I'm not mean to Mike." He says on instinct, he does try not to be. "And he started it."

"Definitely think you started the Barbie thing, Sweetheart."

And well, yeah. "I Barbie all the kids equally."

Eddie hmms Steve can feel the vibration of it through his back and on his neck. Eddie is about to start something he better plan on finishing. "He asked Hop where he should get weed."

Oh. "I didn't think he'd actually do it!" And then, "Is that why he keeps flirting with you, revenge?"

"No, he's got a bunch of misplaced jealousy because Will and the girls think you're hot." He toys with the edge of Steve's shirt as he says it. Perpetually cold fingers brushing the clothes warmed skin beneath making him shiver.

"The girls don't think I'm hot."

He hums again, nips at the blush red skin at Steve's neck. "El used to, Max definitely has a taste for jock.

"That's not my fault, you let Mike play a bard." He wishes he didn't sound so desperate.

"Wanted to leave the Paladin spot open for you, baby."

"I'm starting to feel convinced, we could go upstairs and you could show me your character sheet."

The things he'll say to get laid.

"Don't think I can do that Stevie, smooth as a Ken doll down there. Could show you the actual character sheet though." 

His back is cold as Eddie pulls away, smirking unrepentant as he lets Steve have the tiniest taste of his own medicine.

"Barbie has a very active sex life, actually." He's never been one not to double down. "Let me show you the fun we can have without getting your dick out."

-

He does leave it alone for a little while, even though he really, really doesn't want to. But despite what his friends, his fifth grade report card, and his mom might think; Steve is capable of keeping a hold of his worst impulses when he wants to.

So he lets opportunity pass him by.

He makes no comment about Barbie when Eddie talks about how John Carpenter is a film auteur. Not even when Dustin tries to define auteur for him. Incorrectly, but Robin comes to Steve's defense.

Barbie goes unmentioned, barely when an argument breaks out about Nobel prize winners, of all things. He thinks the kids argue more now than they ever have like it's the only way they have to get their bloodlust out now that the Upside Down was closed. He was quickly boxed out of the conversation, even if Erica kept sending him little glances over everyone's heads. (She'd let him have Peace Prize Barbie a couple weeks ago and maybe he was a little obsessed.)

Holly wants to be a vet now, a singing vet who is also on TV, but mostly a vet. She tells him all about it while he waits for Mike to find his shoes? Definitely not his quarters for the arcade, the day any of them bring those is the day Steve brings the nail bat back out. He’s one impulse purchase away from getting one of those little coin dispenser belts that the employees have -- Gareth just quit, maybe he still had his? Mike's frown is a little less general annoyance at Steve and a little more confusion when he's finally ready to leave and Barbie has gone unmentioned.

He almost breaks again when Eddie starts talking about sports. Or he starts talking about NASCAR which is close enough for Eddie, he has a surprising taste for racing for someone who never wanted to put his van on the starting line at parties. A woman led a Busch Series race for the first time, what a year '86. He's got no opinion on Barbie's ability to drive at all.

He could let a joke go. He could be nice. It wasn't so out of character that it needed this kind of attention.

-

Mike has forgiven him by the time the next session rolls around. Delayed two weeks after Eddie screamed so loud on stage that he couldn't speak for two days, and then again for Jeff's emergency appendectomy. Eddie has stopped leaving pointed gaps in conversation for Steve to fill with mention of Barbie, he has had his thinking face on instead which is good for Steve about as often as it isn't.

He leaves it alone. A little bit of non-life threatening surprise is good for the soul, or something. Listen, he’s made it this far by only asking questions when shit is about to get really, really bad and Eddie’s thinking face has only resulted in something bad once or twice -- and they probably should have spent more than a couple minutes negotiating that particular kink anyway.

When the kids start showing up and nothing has come from the thinking face, he assumes it was just for them anyway. He settles in to see whatever shit Eddie is going to do.

"From the ditch you pull a human man, a paladin. His plate is dirtied by his time on the ground but clearly gleams in its typical state. He's handsome, a square jaw and fluffy brown hair-"

"Ugh is this Steve? You already made us do a quest for him," Mike complains, maybe he hasn’t completely forgiven Steve for that last interruption.

Steve has, by his own count been the inspiration for at least three NPCs for this campaign: a white light faction rogue, Sol, that the party had to rescue from the dungeons of the nightmare King after he was caught sneaking into the bedrooms of the prince -- like it was Steve's fault that Wayne had super hearing; a young fighter from the gladiatorial combat ring who helped the party rescue a group of kidnapped children that were going to be used as bait in the next round of fights; and the most obvious Prince Stefan who sent the party on a quest to kill his betrothed a Duke called Thomas the Boarish and rescue his knight Rowen and beloved Bard Edwin -- it's not like he could unkiss Tommy, and he could be a dick but boarish was dramatic. 

He was not this paladin, assuming Eddie was telling the truth about saving the Paladin he'd made for Steve.

"Cut the out of character chatter, Michael, before it starts counting in game. The Paladin before you is handsome in a bland, approachable, non-threatening way," Mike opens his mouth again, how is that not like Steve surely perched at the edge of his tongue and stopped in its tracks by elbows from Erica and Joey. "He introduces himself to his rescuer, Will the Wise, 'Thank you, kind sir, I would have been down there for ages before my lady noticed my absence. I am Sir Kenneth.'"

"What deity does he serve?" Will asks, something suspicious drawing across his face.

"Is there a holy symbol on his armor?" Gareth follows up. Gareth has been backing a lot of Will's plays lately, Steve thinks something might be going on there but he hasn't wanted to deal with Eddie teasing him for being a meddling matchmaker, again.

"There is no identifiable holy symbol on his clothes or armor." Eddie says, there's a mischief in his eyes, the way he tilts his head with quiet challenge and smiles.

"What God do you serve?" Erica asks, blunt and to the point. She gets cranky when her rogue doesn't have anything to stab.

"'The Lady in Pink,' he answers."

Any time Eddie reveals lore shit there's always a bunch of people talking over top of each other. It always turns into the kind of mass blob of shouting that Steve has a hard time parsing out, especially these days. Eddie somehow manages to distinguish not only people but the things they're saying and keeps his cool enough to keep the story going.

"Roll your insight, Gareth. Jeff, with a 15 history check, you have heard some whisperings from your homeland about a newly ascended goddess but not a name. Dustin, you're not getting shit with a 5 don't even try that but my back story says shit with me. Will, pretty sure that's a cleric spell but I'll let you have it he's a Neutral Good alignment. An 18, shit, yeah Garebear he does seem to be telling the truth that is the deity he follows; but that isn't the whole truth, you know a lot of the newer pantheon have a colloquial name and a true name."

"I'm sorry," Lucas says, "we aren't familiar with your lady. What can you tell us about her? Why would she leave you there? And that's a 14 on persuasion before you even ask."

"Why would I have asked that, Sinclair the elder? He has stars in his eyes when he speaks, 'before she ascended she was already limitless. A powerful warrior, an expert marksman, a mage beyond compare. Her power grew and grew until the only place left to explore was godhood.'"

"And what's her real name, if we wanted to spread the word?" Joey asks.

"'Oh she's everything. She's the lady in pink, she's the goddess with the golden mane, but before she ascended she favored one name I assume she has kept it.'"

"What is it?" Mike asks, perched at the edge of his seat.

"Oh no," Dustin whispers, a dawning horror on his face.

"'Barbara, though she preferred it shortened. Nicknames you call them," Steve sees the joke, knows where this is going a split second before reality breaks through the haze of fantasy for the players around the table. Eddie's smirking now, smile too pleased and too attractive. "'Y'know like Barbie?'"

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

Pool Day | for @steddiemicrofic's April prompt

pairing: steddie (duh) | word count: 1,987 | rated: T | on AO3

“Thanks for having us, Steve Dear,” Mrs. Henderson greets, stepping through the front door after Dustin barrels in and handing him a huge covered bowl of potato salad.

Steve grins at her, taking the dish, “It’s no trouble at all Ms. H; thanks for bringing this, you know it’s my favorite.”

“Of course, hon!”

“Claudia!” Joyce calls from the living room, “Come help me settle this.”

“There’s nothing to settle!” Hop argues in return.

Steve snorts out a laugh, “Good luck, Ms. H.”

Claudia sighs, shakes her head, and heads into the fray.

Steve goes the opposite way, dropping the bowl off in the fridge with the other lunch cookout ingredients Wayne and Hopper will be starting in on in only a couple hours now, grabs a bottle of water for Robin, and follows Dustin’s route back outside to the patio.

It’s a clear, warm, sunny day in the late summer of ‘86. The whole ‘other dimension survivors’ party is in attendance at Steve’s place for the day; Hop, Joyce, Karen, Claudia now, and even Wayne are staying inside in the A/C, the kids are in the pool, and all but the one of the ‘older kids’ are lounging around on the Harringtons’ sun chairs.

Argyle in particular is soaking up the UV rays.

Jon is burning to a crisp under his and Nancy’s umbrella.

It’s Eddie, however, that’s been in the pool practically all morning, and is currently hyping himself up to do… something.. off Steve’s creaky, probably dry-rotted, diving board.

He does look good up there; drenched head to toe with his hair pushed back from his face like that. If he wasn’t covered in pool water, Steve would want to lick him.

…okay, he probably still would.

Robin elbows him as if she can read the thoughts straight from his brain.

”Shut up.” he grumbles out the corner of his mouth, sitting on his previously vacated chair beside her and passing over the water.

She just snorts at him in return, taking the bottle from him and going back to her book..

”Eddie, dude, it can’t be done.��� Mike groans, “If I can’t do it, you can’t do it.”

”He’s got an 82 percent chance of landing flat on his stomach.” Erica states.

“It’s gotta be higher than that.” Max says, “I’d give it 93 percent.”

“Never.. tell me the odds.” Eddie declares from atop his perch. The board creaks when he shifts his weight.

His eyes keep darting from the end of the diving board to the clear, blue water beyond it, and back again.

Steve calls across the backyard, “What’s it he’s trying to do?”

“He says he can do two whole flips before he hits the water.” El says, piping up from where she is laying on a towel on the far side of the patio next to Max.

Steve grimaces, “Does he now?”

”…He’s gonna die.” Dustin says. “Again.”

Lucas is the one to go to bat for their DM, ”Give him a chance, dude, he says he’s done this before.”

“See, you say that, but we all know how uncoordinated he is. Can you bellyflop to death? ‘Cause that’s how he’s ‘bout to go.”

“Don’t fuck this up, Eds, I’m not CPR certified anymore.” Steve calls from his spot beside Robin who leans in immediately to whisper, “What are you doing? If he dies you can give him mouth-to-mouth!”

Steve blinks once at her, turning back to Eddie who’s still hyping himself up for his promised double-flip. “Never mind, I remembered it!”

Eddie breaks from his focus on the board in front of him to give Steve an exasperated, questioning look. Steve winks in return, making the sunburn on Eddie’s skin burn brighter.

He’ll get the hint(s, there’s been multiple) eventually… hopefully.

The advice starts coming from all sides; “C’mon, man just do it already!”

“Yeah, Are ya gonna go or what?”

“Let him work up to it!”

“You work up to it.”

“That’s it, you’re going down, Wheeler.”

“You’re never gonna go are you?” Max yells, ignoring the scuffle starting up between Will and Mike

“Do a run-up!” Dustin suggests, and Steve stops that one in its tracks.

“No! No running around the pool!”,

Nancy chimes in, not looking up from her magazine. “Just don’t die, Eddie.”

”And what, desert all you losers? What’d you even do without me?”

“He’s got a point,” Erica concedes, deadpan, “Who would we watch hurt themselves if you weren’t around.”

“Alright, alright, alright, shut up, I’m going.” Eddie says, waving his arms around, “In three…two…one!”

And he does. He goes for it, bounding off the end of the board, completing exactly one and a half turns, and landing stomach-first onto the surface of the water.

Sympathetic hisses of pain and grimacing ‘Oohs’ erupt around the pool as Eddie sinks into the water.

To his credit though, he manages to stand on his own soon afterwards.

Steve calls out to him, “You okay, Eds?”

“I think I’m gonna need that mouth-to-mouth, big guy.” Eddie groans, then flops face-first back into the water dramatically, much to the amusement of the gathered peanut gallery.

“What a doofus, why do I have a crush on him again?” Steve asks Robin in a low voice as he stands from his chair.

Robin sets her book down on her lap, counting out on her fingers without looking up at him: “Big hair, big eyes, big smile, bigger heart.”

“Ah, yep, that’ll do it.” he nods, then drops down off the edge of the pool into the water. “Alright, dumbass, that’s enough pool for you.”

He wades over to Eddie, still floating face-down on the surface of the water, and scoops him up in a bridal carry.

“Blegh…” He feigns death, letting his tongue loll out the side of his mouth. The backs of Eddie’s arms and the very ends of his hair trail along the rippling surface of the water when he lets his head and arms flop backward, bonelessly out of Steve’s hold.

Steve rolls his eyes and drops his arms just enough to submerge him again. His yelp of surprise is muffled when he goes under, much to the delight of the rest of the party.

But Steve gets his arms under him again quickly; Eddie scrambles for a hold around his neck while continuing to splutter, spitting out a mouthful of pool water and pushing the hair off his face to reveal his now-red face.

Steve smirks cheekily down at Eddie’s murderous glare, wrapping his arms tighter around the other man. He walks through the shallows back to the pool steps with Eddie still in his arms (“You bringing me to a chair, Stevie?”), climbs up the first one, then stops.

He looks down at a now confused Eddie (“What? What’s wrong?” he asks, looking around for something what it was that made Steve stop.), smirks mischievously, then, before he can parse out what’s about to happen, Steve twists around and tosses Eddie back into the water.

His flailing limbs just barely miss Mike’s head (Oops, sorry Mike,), the resulting splash hitting at least four of the five gremlins still in the water.

Grinning widely at the others’ laughs, Steve hurries up the stairs and around to the side of the pool closest to where Eddie fell, looking down at him over the edge as he re-emerges from the water, spluttering and coughing, and flips his bangs haphazardly up off his forehead.

“What happened, Eds? One minute you were safe in my arms, and the next, you were back in the water! It’s the strangest thing.” Steve can’t hold back his grin any more than he could his sarcasm, reveling in the murderous glare Eddie is giving him.

Eddie continues to glare, the other kids snickering off to start what sounded like a game of chicken.

“What’s wrong, Teddy, d’ya not like being thrown aroun–” Steve’s awareness of his surroundings kick in a fraction too late; the kids parting out of the way, the smirk that appears on Eddie’s lips a moment before disaster, the somehow still-cold hands that splay and push against the warm skin of his back, sending him toppling over the edge and into the water himself.

Resurfacing to resounding, howling laughter from all sides, Steve similarly flips his hair back and glares at his new nemesis, Robin, standing above him all smug.

“I… hate you.” he tells her, with no real heat behind it.

“Love you too dingus,” she waves and turns back to her chair.

“So whattya say pot, gonna join this kettle in solidarity against the hoard?”

As if he could ever say no to those eyes.

“Sure Eds, hop up.”

And of course, Eddie makes a big deal about it, “What?! Who says I can’t carry you on my shoulders, big boy?”

Steve shrugs, “Okay, squat down and I’ll climb up.”

To his credit, he actually does, letting Steve get situated (and panic silently about where Eddie's head is… 'Ridiculous.' he tells himself.) and standing up, his arms locked around Steve’s shins.

Steve holds his arms out to help keep his balance on Eddie’s shoulders, “Holy shit man, I didn’t think you had it in you!”

Eddie grits out a low “I don’t..” then pitches backwards, sending them both under the water.

Opening his eyes to the burning chlorine, Steve watches the blurry shapes of Eddie’s legs get their bearings on the pool floor once again.

As soon as his feet are settled on the floor, Steve swims forward and around Eddie’s now-kicking legs, the gangly appendages trying futilely to keep him away.

He’s almost out of breath so he clamps a hand on one of Eddie’s knees, using it as an anchor to get behind him and puts his head between the other man’s legs, sitting the backs of Eddie’s thighs squarely down on his shoulders.

He stands, his hair plastered flat to his forehead by the water, and by Eddie’s hands where they hold onto him for dear life.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Eddie says when Steve attempts to shake the hairs off his face, pushing the offending hairs out of his eyes and back up onto the top of head.

Steve tilts his head back as far as he can, looking up at the man on his shoulders.

Eddie’s head blocks out the sun, and it gives him a halo made of sunlight. “Thanks sweetheart.” Steve says, only to Eddie, then faces down the rest of the shitheads. “Alright shitheads, who’s up first?”

Steve and Eddie play against each of the others, some pairs taking longer, some only taking a single shove to get Eddie to topple down into the water.

And each time Steve scoops him back up, Eddie pushes the hairs off his face, scooches his bony butt around to get situated (seriously, how does he sit for any length of time on that thing?!), and gives Steve’s cheek a pat of encouragement before they face off against another round of kids.

Jon and Argyle go up against them once, and it’s the longest round of the afternoon.

Eventually though, about halfway through their chicken tournament, the ‘real’ adults file outside to the Harringtons’ patio table and start up the grill.

By time Jon finally dislodges Eddie from Steve’s shoulders, it’s time to eat.

Eddie’s the last one out of the water, and Steve savors every moment it takes him to trudge up the pool steps, winded, probably aching, but smiling wide, as gorgeous as ever.

“C’mon Stevie,” he huffs, “Let’s get some grub. I’m starving after beating all these twerps.”

“They kicked our asses, Eds.”

“Yeah, but it was fun though, right?” Eddie grins, walking ahead of him to grab, still soaking wet, a handful of (now also soaking wet) hamburger bun.

Steve smiles to himself, watching Dustin and Lucas gang up on him for adding chlorine to their food. “Yeah it was.”

i had to do the fake one too!!

[solarmorrigan]

Steve and Robin are going to need new jobs after spring break because, let's face it, they left the video store in the middle of their shifts and just never came back. That's kind of a fireable offense

They see one of the local diners is hiring both cooks and servers, so off they go to apply. The manager assumes Robin is there for a waitress position and Steve is there to be a cook

This is not so

You think Robin can stack dishes up her arms and carry them around like that? You think she can balance an entire tray of glass on one shoulder and weave around other servers and tables and not drop anything? You think she wants to pretend to be interested in people's inane small talk and put up with men flirting with her so she can get a good tip? Absolutely not, she's here to be a cook

Meanwhile, Steve thrives on other people. He doesn't want to be stuck in the back getting sweaty and covered in grease from the grill (that would be hell on his skin, honestly). Besides, his balance is excellent, he has zero trouble lifting heavy trays, and he's great at pretending to be interested in small talk and flirting with people. He's here to be a server

The manager doesn't really have any better prospects, so even with Steve and Robin's suspiciously vague "resignation" from Family Video, they're hired

The uniform for the cooks is basically just jeans and a clean t-shirt, and Robin kind of loves it. She likes dressing up sometimes, but under her terms; she doesn't want to be expected to do it, and she enjoys the lack of expectations placed on her appearance when she's just here to sling burgers and pancakes

The uniform for servers (well, the uniform for the waitresses, because up to this point the diner has been the kind that has sassy, middle-aged women as servers almost exclusively) is a collared, short-sleeve shirt and a good black skirt (or pair of slacks). Also a frilly half-apron

The manager, awkwardly holding the apron up for Steve: I'm sure we can find you something a little less...

Steve, already tying the apron on: I've worn worse things

(They never bother finding him another apron. He rocks it)

The other servers are a little suspicious of Steve at first, but they eventually become his number one fans. He's a hard worker when he wants to be, he'll carry anything for anyone with only an amusing amount of complaining, and he gladly takes the tables with creeps who come in and make the waitresses uncomfortable

The cooks (all men, because that’s how it works, isn’t it) didn't think Robin would be able to keep up with them at first, but damn if they don't come around real quick. She has no problem yelling when she needs something, she has damn pointy elbows that she will employ if someone gets in her way, and finally—finally!—someone has skinny enough arms to reach in and clean the spaces they usually have to pull stuff out to get to

She absolutely extorts favors out of the other cooks in exchange for reaching into these tiny spaces. Is cleaning the kitchen already part of her job? Yes. Does this stop her? No.

No one who works at the diner ever once thought Steve and Robin were dating. They applied together, they take as many shifts as possible together, they have no problem invading one another's personal space, but the first time everyone sees Robin yelling at Steve through the window for NOT TELLING HER HE HAS A PARTY OF EIGHT, DOES HE THINK SHE'S GODDAMN MAGIC and Steve yelling back that maybe he'd have remembered to do that if he hadn't been busy looking for the side of pancakes THAT HE'S STILL MISSING, BY THE WAY, ROBIN, they're all like ...Oh. Siblings. Okay.

If any of the other servers have lingering doubts about Steve’s character, they only have to see him the first time the kids come and invade the diner. They request Steve as their server, and he huffs and he rolls his eyes and he tells them that, no, they are not ordering all of that, but he gets them every damn thing they ask for anyway, remembers to modify some of their orders because Dustin doesn't like pickles on his burger and Mike likes extra salt on his fries, and he smiles while the kids bicker and laugh over their food when he thinks no one can see him

And Robin complains about all the special orders, but she comes out to say hello when she's done cooking it all, and she glows when they tell her how good the food is

[and-claudia]

Yours Pt. 4 (Paddy x reader) (Speak No Evil)

Warnings: DDDNE (that is your warning that this is gonna get a little fucked up here), manipulation, controlling relatives, lying, p in v, infidelity, let me know if I missed any

Word count: 4355

Taglist (Read the rules, follow them or I will remove your response)

After we were shown around the house, we made our way back downstairs. Ant had to go finish his chores outside which included checking on the animals. Agnes wanted to go see them as well and so after getting approval from Paddy, she was allowed to go. Lousie being the overprotective mother she was of course had to follow her out, which prompted Ben to go as well. 

“Ciara, why don’t you join them? I am going to check on dinner.” He said, and she gave him a smile and nod before following them out. 

I had actually ran upstairs to use the bathroom and when I got back I was going to head out with the rest of them to not create any suspicions just yet, but Paddy stopped me. 

“Yn, wait, I need to talk to you.” He said, urgency in his voice. 

I walked over to where he stood in the kitchen with a confused look on my face. 

“Remember how I said that we are going to have to be very careful about what we say and do around Ciara… she may be a little jealous over what happened in Italy.” He said. 

I covered my mouth in shock, “I’m so sorry, Paddy… I thought she was okay with it… I- I had no idea… did she see the pictures too?” I asked nervously. 

He shook his head, “It’s okay, and she was for that one night… but after that…” He sighed heavily and shook his head, “And no, I hid the pictures, keeping those for my eyes only… and don’t get me wrong, I still want you more than anything… I just need some time to take care of some things first, okay?”  

I was a little skeptical, “Paddy, I have to ask… you told me I wasn’t going back with them… if that’s the case, what is happening with you and Ciara? I may be young and sweet, but I am not one for sharing, not long-term… so how does she fit into this?” I said, motioning between the two of us. 

Paddy flashed his charming smile and looked me in the eyes with his piercing blue ones, “You still trust me, don’t you?” 

His charm was like a spell. However, it was one that I not only didn’t mind being under, it was one I wanted to be put under. 

“Of course I do, Paddy.” I said, biting my lip slightly as I glanced down at his before focussing back on his eyes. 

“Ata, girl. Come here.” He said, pulling me to him and kissing me roughly. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.” 

“Okay, … is there anything I can do to help?” I asked, genuinely wanting to help him with anything he needed me to. 

He smiled at my offer and used his hand to cup my cheek before giving me one last kiss, “Not yet, baby, soon, but not just yet.” 

I had no idea what he meant by that, but the way he said it sent a wave of excitement over me for some reason. And the smile he gave me made me melt. I knew that when it came down to it, I would help him with anything. 

Reluctantly I stepped away from him and went to join the others outside. We stayed out there until the sun began to set. Conversation mostly just included the two kids having their own while Ciara talked with Ben and Louise, leaving me to just sit and listen mostly. I was beyond relieved when Paddy opened the door and called out, letting us know dinner was ready. 

We all went inside and made our way to the kitchen. Sitting on the counter was a dish covered in tin foil. It smelt absolutely amazing. 

“Ta-da!” Paddy said as he grabbed the tin foil and ripped it off, revealing some type of roasted bird. 

“Wow, that looks amazing, Paddy.” Ben said. 

“Thank you. Was, Libby, our prized goose, out on the farm. Killed it and cooked it with my own hands.” Paddy said as he began to slice it. 

“Oh, you didn’t have to do all that.” Louise said from where she stood off to the side, clearly already uncomfortable. 

“You’re our VIP guests. It’s the least we could do.” Ciara insisted. 

I watched as Paddy sliced off a piece of meat and the turn to walk with it over towards my aunt. He approached her, holding out the fort ready for her to eat off of it, “Our gift to you, Louise, the best part of the roast.” He said, bringing it up to her. 

She tried and failed to deflect it to someone else as Paddy insisted further, “Come on, doctor’s orders.” He said and she finally gave in, taking the fork in her mouth. 

I had to hide my laugh behind a cough as I watched it all happen. To tell the truth, I couldn’t tell if he had purposely done it or not, considering she had told them she was a vegetarian in Italy. Either way, watching her struggle to chew it was satisfying. If it were anyone else, I probably would have spoken up on their behalf so they wouldn’t have to eat something they were against. But she was such a people pleaser it was satisfying to watch her reap the consequences of it. 

The rest of dinner went on fairly uneventfully. That was until Ciara turned her attention towards me. 

“So, Yn, why do you still live with your aunt and uncle? You’re old enough to move out by now, aren’t you?” She asked. 

Her question must have caught Paddy off guard as well because his eyebrows shot up as he looked over at her and then to me, waiting for an answer. 

“I’ve been trying to save up to move out, actually. But it can be hard, making a steady income doing what I do.” I said, causing Ben to scoff slightly. 

My uncle didn’t approve of my career choices, saying I would never make a living doing it, but it was my life. 

“Oh, what do you do?” Ciara asked. 

“I’m a photographer. I’ve done a few bigger jobs like weddings, but I mostly try to stick to private photoshoots.” I explained. 

Paddy nodded, “Yeah. I’ve seen her work. It’s stunning.” He said, giving me a subtle pointed look, and I knew what he was actually referring to, “She showed me some back in Italy.” 

“Ooh, I’d love to see them sometime.” Ciara said, and I nodded. 

“Of course. Maybe I can even take some for you while I’m here.” I said.

“That would be nice.” Paddy said with a smirk that only I seemed to catch. 

After dinner concluded, everyone began going their separate ways. Ciara and Louise went upstairs to put the kids to bed, leaving just Paddy, my uncle, and myself downstairs. 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay sleeping down here? You can always stay with Louise if you want to. I can stay down here. I won’t mind.” Ben offered to me out of nowhere. 

“What? Are you and here still having issues? If you don’t want to sleep with your wife, say so. I am fine sleeping down here.” I said, rolling my eyes. 

“It has nothing to do with that, and you know you’re not supposed to bring that up. I just wasn’t sure how you feel being so… exposed to an older man in his house.” He explained. 

“Oh, after Italy, I thought us two were just going to bring up things the other has explicitly told the other not to… and for the record, I feel perfectly safe around Paddy.” I said just as Paddy walked into the room. 

“The two of you have got to try this. Here.” He said, handing each of us a bottle. 

I eyed it suspiciously, waiting for him to explain.

“It’s hard cider, made it myself with our farm-grown apples.” He said, popping the lid off his and taking a swig. 

I followed his lead and did the same with Ben not too far behind me. It was unsurprisingly very good. After that dinner Paddy made, I had little doubts that there was anything he couldn’t do with his hands. 

“Damn, Paddy, this is really good.” I said, before taking another drink. 

“Slow down, killer,” He said, leaning forward as if to say something to just me, but he still said it loud enough, obviously, for Ben to hear it, “I don’t think your aunt and uncle would take too well to me getting you drunk again.” He joked. 

“Getting her drunk again? When was the first time you got her drunk?” Ben asked, clearly suspicious. 

“Okay, maybe not me directly, but when she, Ciara, and I went to the club in Italy, Yn did get quite drunk.” He explained, throwing Ben off his trail immediately. 

Ben nodded, “Oh, that’s right.” 

As the two other adults arrived back down stairs, Paddy was pulling out a hand-rolled cigarette. I eyed it, wondering if it was, in fact, what I thought it was. Neither Ben nor Lousie knew I had ever smoked weed before.

“Geez, it’s so quiet out here. Do you even have neighbors?” 

“Yeah, all the way across the valley, but you know we look after each other,” He paused, taking out his lighter,  “You don’t mind if I?” Paddy asked, hesitating before lighting it. 

When he was met with no pushback, he lit it up and took a long drag from it. 

Ben laughed to himself before responding to what Paddy had just said, “Ours are right across the hall, and I don’t think we’ve ever spoken.” He said. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Gibson. They’re a sweet old couple. Have cute Tabby cat that I’ve taken pictures of before.” I said. 

“Well, I guess Someone has spoken to them. When did you even meet them?” He asked, confused. 

“When we moved in.” 

“Louise, you have a bad neck?” Ciara asked suddenly, diffusing the tension building between Ben and me and drawing the attention to my aunt. 

“No, uh… it’s just something that flares up sometimes.” She said. 

I rolled my eyes. Yes, she had a fucked up neck. Has had it for as long as I could remember, honestly. But again, she’s a people pleaser and would never admit to anyone that she wasn’t 100% comfortable, nor would she ever let anyone know that she and her family were anything less than perfect. 

“Medicinal? It’s homegrown.” Paddy offered her his cigarette. 

“No, thank you. I took a pill.” She said. 

“Oh, modern medicine. It is amazing…” 

As Paddy spoke offered it over to Ben, and I was truly stunned when Ben took it and brought it up to his mouth. He passed it back to Paddy after taking a hit. Truth be told, I wasn’t listening too much to the conversation, too busy watching Paddy as he smoked. The thoughts running through my mind were filthy. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to kiss him right now and have him shotgunning it into my mouth. 

I snapped out of my trance as Paddy leaned forward once again to pass the blunt over to Ben. But before he could grab it, I leaned forward and snatched it. I settled back in my seat with my eyes closed as I took a long drag from it. I slowly exhaled. When I opened my eyes, everyone was looking at me. 

Ben looked just plain shocked, Lousie looked mortified, Ciara seemed slightly annoyed and Paddy looked like a mix between proud and turned on. 

“Yn, what are you doing?” Louise asked. 

“Enjoying myself.” I replied, taking another hit. 

“When did you start smoking pot?” Ben asked. 

“You make it sound like I do it all the time. I just do it when I feel like it. And for the record, like 4 years ago.” I said before finally passing it back to Paddy.

“Who would have thought this perfect, sweet girl would have such a wild streak in her?” Paddy said, leaning back in his chair before taking a long drag. 

“She does seem to be full of surprises.” Ciara agreed, sending a worried shiver down my spine. 

“You don’t even know the half of it.” I said, feeling a surge of confidence. 

I continued to sip my drink and just listened, I had closed my eyes, letting the weed in my system and the warmth spreading through me from the cider relax me. That was until I felt like someone was staring at me. I opened my eyes and scanned the room, expecting to be met with Louise’s unapproving sideways gaze, but she wasn’t looking over here. My eyes then landed on Ciara, and if looks could kill, I would be six feet under and then some. But the moment she saw me catch her eye, she averted her gaze to Paddy as she looked at him lovingly and reached over for his hand. I tried to ignore the pang of jealousy that hit me as I reminded myself that in a few days, somehow, he would be all mine. 

“Well, I think it’s about time we retire for the night. Let Yn get some sleep.” Paddy said. 

“I think that’s a good idea.” Louise said. 

There were plans to go out on a hike the next day so we really should be getting to bed soon. 

“Oh, Yn, just a heads up so I don’t scare you. I do get up quite early to do the rounds with the animals. I’ll do my best to be quiet, though, so I don’t wake you.” Paddy said, sending me a subtle look. 

“Oh, Paddy, I am sure it would be okay if you slept in for once. I mean, we do have guests. I don’t think the animals’ schedules will be thrown off that badly. Besides, you wouldn’t want to accidentally wake her. He’s never quiet in the mornings.” She said the last bit, turning to me. 

“It’s alright, Paddy, I am intruding on your home. Please do what you need to, and don’t worry if you wake me up. I really don’t mind.” I said sweetly enough to let him know I got his hint but not enough to cause suspicion… I hope. 

I was gathering up my PJs and facewash to go get changed and ready for bed in the bathroom when Paddy came back downstairs. At first he paid me no mind as he went to lock the front door. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I turned around and found him standing right behind me. 

“Shit, Paddy, don’t sneak up on me like that.” I said with a small laugh. 

“Sorry, just needed to see you before I go back up there.” He said, reaching a hand up to cup my cheek. I immediately leaned into it. 

We stayed like that for a moment, in a comfortable silence, just reveling in the fact that we were back together once again. Slowly, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine. 

“God, this may be worse than just having the pictures to look at. Knowing you’re down here, so close, yet not being able to have you is absolutely tortuous.” He whispered. 

“Soon.” I said, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “That’s what you told me, right?” 

He nodded, straightening back up to his full height, and dropped his hand, “That’s right.” 

“What time do you get up in the morning?” I asked. 

“Early. 5:30.” 

“Mhm… out in the shed?” I asked. 

“Sometimes…” 

“Well… hopefully you are tomorrow, preferably with a blanket at… let's say 5:45? Because that’s where I’ll be at that time…” I said sweetly. 

“I think I can manage that. Just know what you agreed to. You sure you’re going to be able to go on the hike later tomorrow after I’m done with you?” He asked. 

“Hmmm, we’ll see I guess.” I said giving him one last kiss, “You should get back upstairs before she gets suspicious.” I said with a sigh. 

“After you.” He said, stepping to the side and nodding me past him to go up first. 

I laughed, knowing he was just letting me go first to stare at my ass, not that I was complaining. When we got to the bathroom, I stopped and faced him. “Good night, Paddy.” 

“Good night, Yn.” He leaned over and kissed my forehead before passing me and heading up to his and Ciara’s room. 

Once he was out of sight, the door to the guest room opened, and my aunt stepped out. 

“What was that about?” She asked, confused. 

“What?” 

“I thought I heard Paddy out here… telling you goodnight.” “He did, he came downstairs to lock up, I was heading up here to change and wash my face.” I said confused by here questing what was happening. 

“Did… Did he, um, kiss you goodnight?” She asked, eyebrows knitted. 

“It was a quick peck on the forehead, no more than the one he gave us when we left Italy. What’s the big deal?” I asked, getting annoyed. 

“Isn’t that still a little weird?” 

“No, I think he’s just friendly. It doesn’t really bother me… Look its late, we were in the car all day I really just want to get to bed.” I said before slipping into the bathroom, not giving her any room to say anything else. 

When I got downstairs I set an alarm on my phone just in case I didn’t wake up when Paddy came down in the morning. Luckily I fell asleep quickly with the anticipation of being with Paddy come moring. 

When my eyes peeked open again I found Paddy sitting at the other end on the couch. He was lacing up his boots seeming completely unaware that I had woken up. That was until he spoke up. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He asked with a smirk. 

I stretched some and sat up, “Hm… maybe.” I smiled. 

“Make sure you turn your alarm off, darling, don’t want to wake anyone else up.” He said, leaning over to kiss me. 

I smiled into the kiss, “Should I just come with you now?” I whispered. 

“I was hoping you would.” He said, pulling back and standing up. 

He offered me his hand and I took it. I was secretly hoping my hair wasn’t a complete mess as I slipped on my shoes and followed Paddy outside. The sun hadn’t even risen yet as he led me through the yard, to one of the doors of the shed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a leather cord that was attached to one of his belt loops on one end and had a set of keys on the other. He unlocked the door before gesturing me in. When he stepped in he shut the door before moving to lay down the blanket on top of the straw-covered floor. 

“Sorry, it’s not the fanciest.” He said, turning to look at me. 

“I don’t care.” I said, immediately closing the distance between us and kissing him. 

His response to the kiss was instantaneous as he took control and backed me up to the side wall. My back hit the rough bricks, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. 

“I’ve missed you darling… missed this with you.” He said between kisses. 

“Take me, Paddy, please.” I begged as he began working his way down my jawline to my neck. I had been dreaming of this moment ever since we left Italy. 

“So eager.” He mumbled against the hickey he was making on my collar bone. 

Part of me was worried it would be seen by the others, part of me didn’t care, but secretly the majority of me wanted them all to see it. I wanted them all to know I was his… especially Ciara. 

Next thing I knew, he was moving us away from the wall and over to where he had laid out the blanket. I kneeled down, bringing Paddy down with me. 

“Wait, what the fuck?” I asked, feeling something weird under my ass. 

I grabbed it through the blanket and found it was a lock. 

“What’s this for? Is it like some secret sex dungeon? Or are you secretly like a serial killer or something?” I teased. 

He let out a small laugh, “It’s nothing. Promise. And do you really think I could be a serial killer?” 

“I don’t know, you may look cute, all covered in blood, chasing me down…” I said, only half joking. 

“What is wrong with you?” Paddy asked in amusement as he shook his head, smiling. 

“Okay… one of my biggest crushes is Billy from Scream, okay? Just something about fucking with their victims before killing them, it’s kinda hot. I know that’s like so fucked up, but I can’t help it! Ever since I watched the movie at like 15, I was hooked, and it never went away…” I admitted. 

“That’s so fucked up, Yn. He killed people…tsk tsk.” He said, shaking his head but still smiling. 

“I know! I know, I can’t help it though.” I said blushing slightly. 

“Hmmm… so you like serial killers then?” He teased. “I mean, I guess in theory.” I said. 

“And in practice.” He said, tone suddenly changing to be much more serious.

On the surface I was confused but something deep down in me understood. 

“Paddy… what do you mean?” 

“I think you’ve already connected the dots… I told you, you wouldn’t be leaving… and I meant it. Your aunt and uncle won’t be either… I want you to be by my side when it happens… you can even help if you want to. Or, you can let me take care of it, let me free you from them… you said you were mine, didn’t you?” He asked, gently caressing my cheek. 

I nodded immediately, “I’m yours Paddy. Please, free me.” 

I pulled him back down to kiss me. He groaned into the kiss, gripping the back of my head to pull me closer. Then in one swift motion he flipped us so that I was straddling his waist. I could feel his hard cock, begging to be freed from his jeans underneath me. I grinded my hips down onto it and let out a soft moan as his bulge bumped up against my clit. 

His hands went to my hips, slipping up under my sleep shirt. It raised up exposing the fact that I hadn’t worn any bottoms. 

“No panties, sleeping on my couch? You trying to drive me crazy?” He asked. 

“Hm… maybe.” I said, pulling away and reaching down to undo his belt.  

I unzipped his pants and he helped me pull them down along with his underwear just enough to free his cock. 

I lifted myself up on my knees and reached down to line him up with my entrance, but he stopped me. 

“Wait, darling.” He said, reaching down into his pocket that had been shoved down. He pulled out a condom and used his teeth to open it before quickly putting it on. 

“There we go, don’t want to risk anything, do we?” He said, grabbing my hips once again. 

He guided me down onto his cock slowly. I let out a loud moan as he stretched me open slowly. Once he bottomed out I sat there for a moment to get reacquainted with the size of him. 

“As much as I love the pretty sounds you make, love, I’m going to need you to keep it down. Okay? Don’t want the wife hearing you now, do we?” He asked. 

I shook my head. Then he gave my hips a gentle squeeze before guiding me to move up and down on his cock. I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning. One of my hands stayed on his chest to steady myself, and the other went down to my clit. 

My pace was matching his pace, slow circles just enough to drive me crazy as the pressure slowly began to build. 

“You’re getting close, aren’t you, darling?” He said. 

“Yeah,” I sighed out, subconsciously speeding up my pace on my clit. Paddy picked up his pace as well, sending me even faster to my climax. 

“Fuck, darling… you look so good, so fucking good, on my cock like that.” He said, and I knew by the way his cock twitched inside of me he was getting close as well. 

“Paddy, shit. I’m…” Before I could finish my sentence, my walls were clutching onto him as I came. 

“Damn it, love…” Paddy groaned as he came as well. 

Honestly, I was cursing that condom from preventing me from feeling him shoot his cum deep inside of me. But I knew it was for the better. We were already taking so many risks together we couldn’t afford to be that risky… not right now at least. 

We both caught our breaths and after a moment I went to lift myself up, but Paddy stopped me. 

“Not yet, just come here, darling.” He said pulling me down to lay on top of him. 

I laid down gently, resting my head as best I could onto his chest. 

“I fucking missed you, darling, and your perfect pussy… it truly was made for me, wasn’t it? All of you was made for me.” He said, rubbing his hand up and down my back. 

“Only you, Paddy. I want to help kill them. All of them… I just have two conditions.” I said. 

“What are they?” 

“I get Anges and… I get to kill Ciara.” I said, turning my head to look at him. 

“Who said anything about killing her?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I did. I said I am yours, if that’s true, then you don’t need her anymore. She needs to go too.” I said simply. 

He smiled evilly, “I like your logic, dear… you have yourself a deal.” 

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