#She's a little whirlwind and I adore her. <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[finelinefae]

friends [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: bambi meets harry's best friends.

word count: 8.8k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, fluff, age gap (9 years), drunk harry, shy reader, boyfriend!h

this is part 3 of Bambi, read part 2 here

. . .

Y/N was slowly but surely finding her rhythm at Pleasing. Thanks to Harry’s advice on making the most of each day (advice he apparently wrote a book about—though when Lindsey mentioned it, Harry had quickly shushed her and changed the subject), she had developed a solid morning and evening routine.

Her workdays at Pleasing fell on the busiest days of Harry’s schedule, which meant she was there three times a week. Those mornings began promptly at 7 a.m., with her clothes already laid out from the night before. After waking, she’d prepare breakfast for herself and her brothers, speaking to Harry on the phone as they went about their respective routines in separate homes. Once breakfast was done, she’d brush her teeth, do her makeup, and style her hair. By the time the school bus arrived to whisk her brothers away, her car would be rounding the corner to take her into the city.

Despite her hectic schedule, Y/N was managing to juggle her studies—though she couldn’t ignore that they were beginning to take a backseat. Lately, she’d found herself questioning whether she even wanted to continue her course. But with life moving at such a whirlwind pace, the thought of making a definitive decision felt overwhelming. For now, it was easier to just focus on the day-to-day.

To her surprise, Y/N was actually enjoying her job—something she’d never expected. She’d never been a fan of “adulting”; being forced to grow up quickly didn’t mean she had to like it. Paying bills, going to work, and worrying about the future had always felt like too much. But having a steady job offered her a rare sense of stability—one she appreciated more than she wanted to admit. It kept food on the table, gave her some consistency, and most importantly, brought her closer to Harry.

Keeping their relationship a secret, however, was proving to be a challenge. Surprisingly, Y/N was the more professional of the two, maintaining her composure in the workplace. She kept her hands to herself and avoided lingering glances, even when they were in the same room. Harry, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as disciplined. He had a knack for initiating little interactions that straddled the line of propriety—always claiming they were “accidents.”

Like the time he held her hand just a second too long. Or the time he “accidentally” kissed her in the elevator right as the doors were opening. Then there was the incident during a meeting when, as she served tea, he tugged on the hem of her dress—apparently needing a refill.

Y/N couldn’t help but adore how infatuated he was, but she was determined to keep things professional. The last thing she wanted was for her coworkers to think she had an unfair advantage because of her relationship. Still, Harry’s innocent looks and playfulness made it hard to stay mad at him for long.

“I need to ask you something,” Harry said from his desk. 

It was Wednesday evening and everyone had gone home. Harry had needed to catch up on some work so Y/N stayed behind after some convincing with the proposition he would drop her home afterwards. Y/N was sitting on the chair opposite, her notebook open and laptop screen. Her laptop was on its last legs, taking forever to load and lagging every five seconds but she could never afford a new one and having one was better than nothing. 

“What’s wrong?” She looked up, wearing her glasses and face framed by wispy bits of loose hair that had escaped her messy bun. 

Harry’s face brightened when she looked up at him. “C’mere, Bambi. Too far away.” He pushed himself away from his desk and gestured to his lap. 

Y/N smiled and walked around the desk to sit in his lap. She straddled herself across his lap and wrapped both her arms around his neck, “Y’ smell good,” He murmurs, smelling her gingerbread cookie perfume even though it was Autumn, she was already excited for her favourite day of the year. 

“What did you want to ask?” She pouted. 

As if remembering he bought her over for a purpose, he continued, “This weekend, y’know you’re coming to stay the night?”

How could she forget? It was all she had been thinking about since he asked her. She had even bought brand new pyjamas with the remaining paycheck from her old job because her usual ones were worn and not as pretty. She had never been to a sleepover before let alone one with a man. She was’t sure what to expect but had seen movies where girls would sleepover and they’d paint each others nails and eat ice cream. She knew that wouldn’t be the case with Harry but she had made a list of other things they could do together that he’d enjoy too. 

“I know,” Y/N nodded, brows furrowed as she waited for him to continue. Part of her couldn’t help but worry. Did he not want her to sleep over anymore?

"Some of my friends are having a dinner get together type thing," Harry said, his tone casual but hopeful. "I haven’t said I’ll go yet because I knew you were coming over, but I wanted to ask if you’d like to come with me?"

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. "To the dinner party? With you?"

Harry smiled, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Yeah, with me. Who else?"

She blinked, processing his words. "I’d be meeting your friends?" she asked cautiously. "Are you sure about that?"

"Why wouldn’t I be sure?" he replied, his brow lifting slightly.

"I don’t know, I just..." she trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to explain the nervous flutter in her chest.

"Ah, there y’go, Bambi," Harry smirked, leaning in just enough to make her cheeks burn. "Getting all flustered."

"I’m not flustered!" she protested, though the warmth in her face betrayed her.

Harry chuckled, his gaze warm and steady as it met hers. "It makes me happy, you know—thinking about introducing you to my friends. They were excited when I mentioned you."

"They were?" Y/N asked, her brows lifting in surprise.

"Mhm," he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. "They know it’s rare for me to bring someone I’m dating into the mix this early on." He leaned in, nuzzling against her neck and pressing a soft kiss to her skin. "So, will you come? We can head back to mine after."

She hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay... but I don’t know if I have anything to wear."

Harry smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Y’know I can sort that," he teased.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed instantly, and she bit back a shy smile as his confidence and charm worked their usual magic. 

. . .

Y/N glanced down at her suitcase, biting her lip. Did I overpack for one night? Probably. She always did.

Growing up, money had been tight, but once Y/N started earning her own at sixteen, she’d developed a habit of indulging herself. Not extravagantly—there were no designer handbags or flashy purchases—but enough to feel like she was treating herself after the grind of a day. Skincare, makeup, clothes—her modest earnings often vanished in the blink of an eye.

Fashion was her weakness. Her clothing rack groaned under the weight of her ever-expanding wardrobe, frequently collapsing as if protesting her relentless shopping habit. Packing for this overnight stay at Harry’s had been no exception. She’d started with a backpack, then upgraded to a duffle bag, only to realize that wouldn’t fit everything she might need. Now, her suitcase sat by the stairs, practically mocking her indecision.

“Whoa.” Sammy’s voice broke her thoughts as he sauntered into her room, a chocolate bar in hand. “Are you moving in?”

“No,” Y/N huffed, hands on her hips. “I just want to be prepared.”

Sammy raised an eyebrow. “You know, he could just stay here instead.”

Y/N stilled. The boy’s first night without her had everyone feeling uneasy, and she knew Sammy wasn’t looking forward to it. His gaze was guarded, but she could see the vulnerability underneath.

“It’ll be fine,” she reassured, stepping closer. “It’s just one night. If you really hate it, we’ll—”

“You’ll what?” he interrupted, his voice breaking slightly. “There’s going to be a day when you move out. And leave me. With Mom. Or... without her.”

The words hit harder than he intended. Y/N swallowed the lump forming in her throat, reaching out to him. She saw the sadness etched in his eyes, a reflection of her own fears. “Wherever I go, you go,” she whispered firmly.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Sammy leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. Y/N held him close, closing her eyes for a moment before pulling away.

The sound of a knock at the front door jolted her. She glanced at the clock, muttering a quick, “That’s Harry,” as she rushed downstairs. She wanted to intercept him before Archie could get started—her little brother’s chatter had a way of turning quick visits into extended stays.

Yanking the door open, she froze. Harry stood there, a beaming smile lighting up his face despite the chill in the air. He wore a puffer jacket and shorts, his casual confidence making her heart skip.

“Hi, Harry,” she greeted, cheeks tinged pink, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or his presence. Without thinking, she leapt into his arms, her sock-clad feet barely touching the doorstep.

“Hi, Bambi,” he chuckled, steadying her as his arms closed around her. “Y’ready to go?”

“Mhm.” She pulled back, slipping on her shoes. “Let me say goodbye to the boys.”

Harry’s gaze shifted behind her, landing on the suitcase by the stairs. A laugh bubbled from him. “Are you planning on moving in?”

Y/N furrowed her brows, following his line of sight. When realization dawned, she flushed. “Oh, that. I, uh... didn’t know what I’d need.”

His grin softened as he stepped closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “S’alright, Bambi,” he murmured. “M’just excited to have you over.”

She smiled, her heart swelling as he leaned in for another kiss. Then, without missing a beat, he grabbed her suitcase and carried it effortlessly to the car.

After she had bid goodbye to her brother’s and promised them some much needed one on one time with them once she came back from Harry’s house, Y/N took a deep breath and mentally prepared herself for the next twenty four hours. 

. . .

In the car to Harry’s apartment, Y/N sat in the passenger seat with one hand intertwined with Harry’s whilst he drove with his other. The radio played through the car speakers, avoiding complete silence on the journey. The dulcit tones of Marvin Gaye playing throughout. 

“Y’ hands are freezing,” Harry said. Y/N instinctively tried to pull away as though her hand being cold was a bad thing but Harry clung tighter, raising both their hands and kissing her knuckles before blowing his warm breath over her hand. “Do you need me to up the heater?”

Y/N shook her head, “No it’s okay, my hands get cold when I’m nervous.” She confessed. 

Harry frowned, “Nervous? Are you okay?”

Y/N cringed, “M a little worried about meeting your friends. What if they don’t like me?” 

Harry gave her a comforting smile, “Bambi, they’re so excited to meet you. You have nothing to worry about. They’ve met other girls I’ve dated and trust me when I say you’re a walking angel in comparison to them.” 

“H-Have you dated a lot of other girls?” Y/N felt awkward bringing it up but her curiosity was getting the better of her. Harry had only mentioned briefly of the other women he had dated. Of course he had dated other women, he was a successful, handsome millionaire with a fashion company. It would be pointless trying to deny it. 

Harry thought for a moment like he was trying to think carefully about his response, “I’ll be honest, I used to date a lot of women when I first started making money. I wasn’t very good when I started getting attention from the press. I drank a lot and spent money on buying out nightclubs and bars for the night.” 

Y/N was shocked. She tried to picture her Harry being the version of himself he spoke about. “But my company was no where near as successful as it is now so even though I was spending a lot, I was losing a lot too. I nearly went bankrupt at one point which really gave me a kick up the ass. My sister, she’s an accountant back home in England, she came to visit and helped me get my act together.” 

“Oh wow,” Y/N didn’t really know what else to say. She couldn’t seem to envision her sweet, soft and wholesome Harry being a party animal and spening nights in bars for days on end. 

“Did that put you off?” Y/N immediately shook her head. 

“Of course not, we’ve all got things we’re not proud of.” Y/N replied. 

Harry smiled, “What about you? Any psycho ex-boyfriends I need to worry about?”

Y/N laughed, “No lucky for you, I don’t think a single guy has ever taken interest in me.” 

“I highly doubt that Bambi but you’re right, I am very lucky.” Harry flashed a cheeky grin, turning the wheel around the corner and stopped outside the tallest building she had ever seen that looked as though it was completely made of glass. 

Y/N’s was unable to say anything when her eyes gazed up at the towering stack of apartments. “You live in this building?” Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off, her neck permanently craned to look up. She was pretty sure the hjgihest point of the building resided in the clouds. 

Harry said nothing, parking his car in the private parking spot. He went to the back to grab her suitcase, Y/N stepping out of the car and walking around to meet him. 

“C’mon Bambi,” Harry chuckled at her awe-struck expression. 

They walked hand in hand through the lobby which looked as glamorous as you’d expect. Harry gave a nod to the security at the door as they went past and headed towards the elevator. Y/N’s eyes widened when his finger pressed the button for the top floor. 

The doors to the elevator opened and Y/N thought she might actually pass out. 

She stepped into Harry’s penthouse, her breath catching as her gaze swept over the space. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city skyline, all the people and cars down below looked like ants. The open layout was both elegant and inviting, with warm ambient lighting casting a golden glow over the neutral-toned furniture and rich wooden floors.

“Wow,” she whispered, taking a hesitant step further inside. The plush cream sofa, the sleek coffee table stacked with books, and the faint scent of vanilla in the air all felt so Harry—effortlessly stylish and welcoming.

Harry chuckled behind her, setting her suitcase by the door. “You like it?”

“Like it?” she breathed, turning to face him with wide eyes. “Harry, this is... incredible.”

He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “M’glad you think so. Wanted it to feel comfy, y’know? Somewhere I could actually relax.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes drifting back to the view. “Sometimes I forget how rich you are.”

Harry chuckles from behind her, “I’m actually very glad to hear that.”

She walked over to the windows, pressing her hands gently against the glass as she looked out at the city sprawling beneath them. For a moment, it felt like they were floating above it all, separate from the noise and chaos of the world below.

Harry joined her, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. “S’better with you here,” he murmured, his voice soft.

Y/N’s heart thudded in her chest as she leant into him. Harry kissed her shoulder, turning her round to face him. He smiled when her eyes met his, “We have some time before we need to get ready, do you want to go unpack?”

“Oh of course, am I sleeping on the couch?” Harry furrowed his brows before bursting out laughing, water almost fell from his eyes. Y/N frowned, confused at his reaction. 

“You don’t want to sleep in my room Bambi? With me?” Y/N’s cheek scorched red but Harry just continued to laugh, “I mean I’m happy to sleep on the couch and let you sleep in my room if that’s what would make you comfortable.”

“No, it’s okay! I was just messing around,” She was all flustered. The idea of sleeping in Harry’s bed with him hadn’t crossed her mind like it maybe should have. 

“Are you sure? Y’ know I wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable.” Y/N’s shoulders sunk at his sincere concern, she stood on her toes and kissed his lips. This time it was his turn to be surprised since it was rare for her to be the first to initiate a kiss between them. 

“I know,” She smiled, “I want to sleep in your room… with you.” 

Harry smiled, “Good. Let me give you a tour first.” 

Harry led Y/N back toward the kitchen, still holding her hand as they strolled through the open-concept living area. “First stop: the kitchen,” he said, motioning grandly as they stepped into the sleek, modern space.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she took in the marble countertops, state-of-the-art appliances, and a large island that looked like it had been plucked from a home design magazine. A trio of pendant lights hung above, casting a warm glow over the pristine surfaces.

“Wow,” she breathed, running her fingers along the smooth countertop. “This is amazing. Do you even use it?”

Harry grinned, leaning casually against the island. “I use it for takeout. Does that count?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t know how anyone could resist cooking in here.”

“I can resist pretty easily, love,” he said with a smirk. “But if you ever fancy cooking together, I’m happy to assist. I’m great at stirring things and, uh… taste-testing.”

“Of course you are, no wonder you own a restaurant.” Y/N teased, giving him a playful nudge.

Harry chuckled, then nodded toward a door off to the side. “Alright, next stop: my office.”

He guided her through the door and into a smaller, cosier room that contrasted with the open, airy feel of the rest of the penthouse. The office was lined with dark wood shelves filled with books, a few framed photos, and scattered trinkets. A large desk sat in front of another set of floor-to-ceiling windows, the view just as stunning as the one in the living room.

“This is where I get most of my work done,” he said, walking over to the desk and leaning on it. “Or where I try to, anyway. Sometimes I just sit here and stare out at the city.”

Y/N wandered over to the shelves, her fingers lightly brushing the spines of the books. “It’s so… you,” she said softly, glancing at the little details—a framed photo of him with his family, a guitar pick sitting on a stack of papers, and a candle that smelled faintly of cedar.

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean messy?”

“No,” she said, laughing. “I mean it’s thoughtful. Personal.”

Harry’s smile softened, and he reached out to take her hand again. “Alright, enough of the boring office. Time to show you the best room in the house.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as he led her back down the hallway to his bedroom. When he pushed open the door, her breath hitched.

The bedroom was even more stunning than she’d imagined. The centerpiece was a massive bed with crisp white linens that looked impossibly soft, surrounded by sleek, minimal furniture. The far wall was made entirely of glass, offering an unobstructed view of the glittering city below. Heavy curtains were drawn to the sides, framing the view like a painting.

Harry watched her take it all in, a small smile tugging at his lips. “So? What do you think?”

“It’s… incredible,” Y/N whispered, stepping into the room. She walked over to the windows, pressing her hands against the glass as she gazed out at the city. “I don’t think I’d ever sleep. I’d just stay up staring at this view.”

“Well, lucky for you,” Harry said, coming up behind her and resting his hands gently on her shoulders, “the bed is comfortable enough to make you forget about the view.”

She turned to look at him, her cheeks warming. “I don’t know if that’s possible.”

Harry grinned, his dimples on full display. “Challenge accepted, Bambi.”

He took her hand and led her to the bed, sitting down beside her. The mattress really did feel like a cloud as she sank into it.

“I was serious earlier,” Harry said, his tone softer now. “You can sleep wherever you want—the bed, the couch, the office chair if you’re feeling adventurous. I just want you to be comfortable.”

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling at his thoughtfulness. “I already told you, Harry. I want to sleep here. With you.”

His eyes lit up at her words, and he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. “Good. Because I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want that too.”

Harry stood up, “I’ll leave you to unpack. I’ve just go to make a few calls but there’s an ensuite bathroom you can use to freshen up.”

After Harry brought her suitcase to the bedroom, he left her to unpack. Y/N unzipped it and pulled out her washbag, heading into the ensuite bathroom.

The bathroom was stunning—a walk-in shower with dark tiles and jets built into the walls. She stepped to the sink, admiring the clean lines of the vanity, and placed her washbag carefully on the counter. She couldn’t help but smile when she noticed all of Harry’s skincare neatly organized in a cute little spinning container—it was such a contrast to her own chaotic setup. But then her eyes landed on the glass by the sink, where his toothbrush rested.

Beside it was a pink toothbrush.

Her heart softened at the sight, a warm flutter spreading through her chest. There was something about that simple detail that made her feel all warm and gooey inside. She’d never believed she would find someone she’d want to spend so much time with but here she was staying the night with Harry and about to meet his friends. 

Y/N walked into the living room, where Harry was already sitting on the couch with his laptop perched on her lap. He smiled when he saw her, and then his gaze fell to the object she was holding. “Is that Monopoly?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N nodded, her grin widening. “Yeah, it’s the original version. I asked my brothers if I could bring it with me since we've had this set forever, and they would absolutely murder me if I lost any pieces. We have to be able to play it at Christmas."

The corner of Harry’s lips quirked in amusement. “Hmm, may I ask why you decided to bring Monopoly with you today?”

Y/N paused, clearly puzzled. “Isn’t that what people do at sleepovers? Play games?”

Harry’s grin spread wider. As she stepped closer, he reached out, pulling her toward him. She ended up collapsing onto his chest with a soft laugh.

“Oh, Bambi,” he murmured, showering her face with quick kisses. His lips tickled her skin, making her giggle uncontrollably. “You’re the most precious girl I’ve ever known, you know that?”

She smiled up at him, her cheeks flushed. “Does that mean you want to play?”

Harry gave a dramatic sigh, still grinning. “Of course! Are you kidding me? I love this game.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her voice playful. “Well, be prepared. I’m not one to brag, but I’m pretty good at it.”

His eyes lit up with challenge. “Oh, Bambi’s competitive, I see.”

A spark flickered in her eyes as she leaned in slightly, “Just a little.”

. . .

Harry loved discovering the many layers of his Bambi. To the outside world, she was shy and quiet, but to him, she was a multi-faceted woman, full of surprises he was peeling back one by one. Yet this afternoon might have revealed his favorite side of her yet.

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with excitement and mischief as she declared her victory in Monopoly—long before the game had officially ended. Harry had debated whether to let her win, as any gentleman might, but it turned out he didn’t need to. She was fiercely competitive and had wiped the floor with him in just thirty minutes.

If time had allowed, Harry would’ve played another round or concocted a new game just to watch her face light up with that same playful energy. The afternoon spent with her, laughing over a simple board game, had him envisioning Christmas mornings and holiday traditions for years to come. It was silly, perhaps, to think so far ahead so early in their relationship, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t picture a future without Bambi in it.

Still, as the game wrapped up, he could see her nerves creep back in. The mention of preparing to meet his friends made her retreat into herself, her earlier exuberance melting into quiet apprehension. Despite his reassurances, Harry knew she’d wrestle with her anxiety until the dinner was behind them.

His friends, on the other hand, were eager to meet her. Their group chat had been buzzing with excitement about “the girl who finally tied him down.” Since Harry’s family was back in England, his friends were the closest thing he had to family in LA, making their opinions matter. But he had no doubt they’d love her.

In the living room, Harry waited for Y/N to finish getting ready, dressed in his tailored dark suit with a relaxed fit. The loose white tank underneath, with its wide scoop neckline, subtly revealed his tattoos, and the Pleasing logo stitched at the hem added a personal touch. Cream-colored loafers and white socks completed the look, his short curls neatly styled to keep them from obscuring his face.

The click of the bedroom door snapped him from his thoughts. He rose from the sofa, as alert as a puppy hearing its owner return. When Y/N stepped out, the oxygen seemed to leave the room entirely.

Her dress was light pink, soft and flowing, with thin spaghetti straps and a V-shaped neckline that showcased her décolletage. The slightly sheer fabric hinted at her elegant curves, while the asymmetrical hemline added a whimsical touch. Her hair was slicked back into a high ponytail, and her makeup was pink-toned and dewy, enhancing her natural glow. She paired the dress with strappy silver heels and a small, dainty bag dangling from her shoulder.

Her hand clung to her opposite arm, feeling vulnerable as she stood before him. Harry felt his breath hitch, his lips parting as he tried to absorb how breathtaking she looked.

“Bambi…” he managed, his voice low and reverent.

Her cheeks flushed. “Is it too much?” she asked softly.

Harry stepped closer, taking her hands in his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “You look beautiful. I don’t even have the words to tell you how incredible you are.”

She ducked her head, shy like the deer he affectionately nicknamed her after. “Thank you. You look very handsome, too,” she said with a smile.

“Thank you, baby,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on her like she was the only thing in the world.

“Do you like my dress?” she asked, her voice tentative.

Harry’s hands slid to her waist, feeling the soft fabric and the gentle curve of her silhouette. “I love it.”

“I made it,” she admitted, her blush deepening.

His brows lifted in surprise. “You did?”

She nodded, and Harry was awestruck. He’d seen her sketches before—ones she had reluctantly shared after he begged—but seeing her creations come to life was something else entirely.

Harry glanced at his watch, sighing reluctantly. “We should probably get going, but first…” He pulled out his phone, aiming it at the two of them. Y/N laughed, trying to push the camera away, but eventually relented, leaning in to kiss his cheek just as he snapped the photo. His grin widened, his eyes crinkling with joy.

Taking her hand, he asked, “Do you need a jacket?” His gaze flicked to her bare arms.

“I’ll be okay, as long as the bar has heating,” she replied with a small laugh.

Harry chuckled but grabbed a jacket on their way out anyway. He knew her well enough to anticipate the moment she’d get cold but wouldn’t say a word about it.

The drive to the bar felt like it took forever, thanks to the heavy city traffic. Harry’s hand remained warm on her thigh, and she wrapped her arm around his, seeking comfort from his touch. She chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous habit she couldn’t seem to stop.

“A little,” she confessed, glancing over at him. “I just want them to like me. I’ve never had to introduce myself to anyone’s friends before... I don’t want to mess up.”

“You’ll be fine, Bambi,” Harry reassured her, his voice calm as always. He’d said it so many times already, and she knew he’d say it dozens more if she needed to hear it. “Just be yourself. That’s all you need to be.”

Y/N wouldn’t say it out loud, but the age difference between her and Harry’s friends had been weighing on her mind all evening. The nine-year gap between her and Harry had never been an issue for them—it felt inconsequential when they were together. But his friends might see it differently.

What if they thought she was too young, too inexperienced, too… immature for someone like him? Worse, what if they assumed she was with him for his success, for the money he worked so hard to earn? The mere thought made her stomach twist. She didn’t want to be judged on circumstances she couldn’t change or assumptions she couldn’t dispel.

Harry’s friends meant a lot to him, and their approval—or lack of it—would sting far more than she cared to admit.

She nodded anyway, letting out a slow breath and turning her gaze to the window. The city lights blurred outside, their glow reflecting in her eyes. Even though his words helped calm her, she still couldn’t shake the nerves.

When they pulled up to the bar, the fancy building loomed in front of them. A valet was already waiting, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice how Harry always seemed to have the luxury treatment everywhere they went. It was a reminder of how different her world was from his, but she tried not to dwell on it.

As Harry stepped out of the car, Y/N noticed the photographers waiting outside. It wasn’t a surprise, but it still made her stomach tighten. Harry wasn’t a mega-celebrity, but he was well-known enough in the business world that the occasional paparazzi was inevitable.

Harry opened the door for her, his hand gently resting on her hip as he helped her out. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her close. He kissed the top of her head, and it felt like both a reassurance for her and a subtle message to the photographers.

The bar was dimly lit and sophisticated with shiny tables and chairs with red upholstery. Live jazz music played as people chatted over glasses of wine that probably cost more than Y/N’s monthly wages had to offer. “Do you own this bar?” Y/N asked, clinging a little bit tighter to Harry’s hand. 

Harry chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Not this one,” he said, guiding Y/N toward a booth at the back of the bar. As they approached, the laughter of a group already seated at the table reached her ears. The sound was warm, familiar, like a group of people who had known each other for years.

A man with long brunette hair had his arm around a woman with similar dark hair that cascaded in waves down her shoulders. The two of them were laughing, their faces lit up in shared joy, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel a little nervous as they neared the group.

Before she could even take a deep breath, one of the men spotted them walking over. He had a rugged beard, and he stood up with a grin, his drink in hand.

“Harry!” he called out, extending his hand.

Harry gave him a knowing grin and shook his hand firmly, his other arm still wrapped around Y/N. “Mate,” he greeted warmly, pulling him into a quick hug.

Y/N watched the exchange, trying to hide the anxious flutter in her stomach. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but she knew this was an important moment for her. She hadn’t met many of Harry’s close friends yet, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that this would be a defining moment—how they reacted to her, how she’d fit in with this group that meant so much to him.

The man with the beard turned to Y/N, his eyes flickering with curiosity, and then he offered her a smile. “You must be Y/N,” he said, his tone warm and welcoming. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

Y/N smiled, a little relieved at the friendly tone in his voice. “Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too,” she replied, her nerves still there but starting to ease. “I’ve heard so much about you guys.”

Harry stood beside her, his hand still resting at the small of her back, offering her silent support as she navigated this new territory. 

The man with the beard grinned as he stepped back, giving Y/N a moment to breathe. "This is Mitch," Harry said, gesturing to the man with long brunette hair who was seated next to a woman with equally dark hair. Mitch gave her a warm, easy smile, his arm casually wrapped around Sarah’s shoulders.

"It’s great to meet you, Y/N," Mitch said, his voice easy and friendly. "Harry’s told us all about you."

Y/N’s nerves eased a little more as Mitch’s friendly demeanor helped her feel at home. "I hope it’s all good things," she said, a nervous laugh escaping her lips.

"Oh, definitely," Mitch replied, nudging Harry with his elbow and giving him a teasing grin. 

Sarah, Mitch’s girlfriend, stood up from the booth with a bright smile, her waves of dark hair catching the light. She reached out to shake Y/N’s hand, her voice warm and welcoming. “Hi! I’m Sarah. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, but Sarah’s friendly tone immediately put her at ease. “Nice to meet you too,” she replied with a smile, trying to match Sarah’s warmth. "Harry's mentioned you guys a lot."

“Good things, I hope,” Sarah teased, winking as she sat back down beside Mitch.

Before Y/N could respond, a deep voice from the other side of the booth spoke up. “You must be Y/N,” a man with a thick beard said, “I’m Jamie.”

“It’s good to meet you,” Y/N smiled.

Jamie gave her a smile that seemed to take up half his face, his eyes twinkling with humor. "Harry’s been keeping us in the loop." He offered her a firm handshake, his grip warm. “It’s about time we met the girl who finally has him whipped.”

Finally, a woman sitting across from Jamie stood up, her presence immediately commanding attention. Alessia was striking—her short hair framed her face with confidence, and her posture was strong. She offered Y/N a small, warm smile. "I’m Alessia," she said, extending a hand. "It’s so good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from Harry."

"Nice to meet you too," Y/N said, shaking her hand with a smile. There was something calming about Alessia’s assuredness that made Y/N feel at ease, even though she was a little more reserved than the others.

As Alessia returned to her seat, Harry’s hand still rested on Y/N’s back, a silent comfort in the midst of the introductions, as they sat in the booth next to Sarah and Mitch. His friends were exactly as he’d described—kind, welcoming, and playful. They were a perfect match for Harry and that bought a sense of relief to her. 

“Can I get you a drink?” Harry murmured to Y/N, his hand gently brushing against hers as he leaned in.

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. She had never really drunk alcohol before—not because she didn’t want to, but simply because she never really went out drinking. Whenever she was out with her brothers, she always stuck to something safe like Coke or Sprite. She felt a little embarrassed to admit that she wasn’t sure what to order.

“Um…” She fumbled for words, feeling self-conscious. "I...I don't really know what to drink."

Harry’s smile softened, as if he understood right away. “Would you like me to pick something for you?”

Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. He wasn’t making her feel stupid. "Yes, please," she said gratefully, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

With a nod, Harry turned and motioned for the guys to follow him toward the bar. As they walked off, Y/N felt her nerves kick in again. She was left standing with Sarah and Alessia, the two women who already seemed so at ease with each other and the group.

Y/N suddenly felt a little out of her element. She wasn’t used to hanging out with other women in this kind of setting. With her brothers, everything was easy and casual, but this... this felt different. She was afraid that her awkwardness would be obvious, so she searched for something to say, anything to break the silence.

It didn’t take long for Sarah to sense her discomfort. She leaned forward with a welcoming smile. “Where’s your dress from? It’s gorgeous,” she asked, her voice light and friendly.

Y/N's face softened at the compliment, and she felt more at ease. “Oh, um, I actually made it,” she said, a little shy but proud. "I love fashion, so I’ve been sketching designs for a while."

Sarah’s eyes widened, impressed. “Wait, you made it? That’s amazing!” She looked at Y/N with genuine admiration. “It looks beautiful on you. I honestly thought it was something you bought from a high-end store.”

Y/N laughed softly, feeling a bit shy but happy with the compliment. “Thanks, that means a lot. I’ve kept a lot of my sketches in an old notebook, but I’ve always wanted to show them to someone.”

“I would love to see them sometime,” Sarah said enthusiastically. “I’m obsessed with fashion too. Maybe we can swap ideas sometime.”

Alessia, who had been listening with a smile, chimed in. “You’re really talented. I’m sure Harry’s lucky to have someone so creative around especially with his company.” 

“Do you guys work in fashion too?” Y/N asked, genuinely curious about the two women she’d just met.

“Just Harry, I’m afraid,” Sarah replied with a playful smile. “We all went to art school, though. Mitch and I own an art gallery together, and Jamie runs a theatre company.”

“And I design album art for artists,” Alessia added, her voice warm and casual.

Y/N’s eyes widened in genuine awe. “Wow. That’s so impressive. Is that how you all met? Through art school?”

“Yep, we were kind of the outcasts of our year group,” Sarah said with a chuckle, “so we stuck together. And look where we are now.”

Y/N smiled, feeling the closeness between the group. “That’s so cool. And... were you and Mitch together back then?”

“Oh no,” Alessia laughed, shaking her head. “Sarah and Mitch didn’t get together until after art school. It was excruciating to witness—those two pining over each other for four years and never doing anything about it.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at Alessia’s blunt description. “That sounds like a movie.”

“It kind of was,” Sarah said, laughing with her. “But it worked out in the end.”

“I bet Harry told you about us,” Alessia continued, leaning in a bit. “He told us he was bringing you tonight, and we were all nervous, actually.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows, surprised. “Really? I was nervous too.”

“Are you kidding? After Harry’s last ‘girlfriend,’” Sarah said with a playful eye-roll, “we thought we’d be meeting some bitchy gold-digger who’d be all over him, trying to separate him from us. But then we met you, and it was like, thank God—you’re nothing like that. Honestly, we’re so relieved.”

“Harry talks about you non-stop,” Alessia added with a teasing grin. “For the last month and a half, it’s been ‘Y/N this, Y/N that,’ in our group chat. It’s kind of sweet, honestly.”

“Really?” Y/N blinked, her face softening with surprise.

Sarah smiled warmly. “Yeah, don’t worry, it’s nice to hear. He deserves someone who treats him right, you know? Especially after everything he’s done for all of us.”

Alessia nodded, her expression turning a little more serious. “He got me out of some serious debt. I was on the brink of losing everything, close to being homeless... but Harry stepped in. He rented me a place, helped me get back on my feet, and even called in a favor that landed me my first real job. He’s the most caring person I know.”

Y/N’s heart warmed at Alessia’s words. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard someone speak so highly of Harry, but it never failed to move her. Hearing it from his friends, people who had seen him at his best and worst, made her realise just how deeply Harry cared about the people in his life—and just how lucky she was to be part of it. 

Soon Harry returned with the boys, sliding into the seat next to her. He placed a drink in front of her, “I got you an Aperol Spritz but if you don’t like it I can get you something else.” He told her. 

“Thank you,” She beamed up at him and took a sip of her drink. It was light and bubbly with a slight bitter yet citrusy taste. The more she drank, the more she enjoyed the taste of it.  

Harry continued conversing with his friends, and Y/N found herself enjoying the easy banter between them. It was nice to see this side of him—relaxed, almost boyish, and playful. The way his friends teased each other with such familiarity made her smile, and it felt like she was catching a glimpse of Harry’s world before she’d come into it.

She liked his friends. All of them were warm and welcoming, each with their own distinct personalities, but there was a genuine closeness that she could see. They kept her in the loop, filling in the gaps on things she might not have fully understood—like an inside joke or a shared memory—until she felt like she was beginning to grasp the dynamics between them.

Sarah and Alessia were especially attentive, constantly asking her questions and trying to learn everything about her. Y/N appreciated their curiosity and kindness. They didn’t make her feel like an outsider, instead showing genuine interest in her life and her background. 

Every so often, Y/N would catch Harry looking down at her. He’d check in on her, his gaze soft, making sure she was okay and not feeling overwhelmed. His protective instincts were clear, and she was grateful for it. He didn’t hover, but whenever he could, he’d quietly reassure her with a small smile or a squeeze of her hand under the table.

Despite the lively atmosphere, Y/N felt like she wasn’t just another guest at the table—she was part of the conversation, part of the group. And it was easy to relax into that sense of belonging as the night wore on. Even though she was still a little out of her comfort zone, she couldn’t help but feel more at ease with every passing minute, especially with Harry so nearby.

She laughed at something Sarah had said, a light, genuine sound that felt more natural than she expected. The whole night had been surprisingly fun, and for once, she was enjoying being part of something so lively, instead of shrinking back.  

“So Y/N, what’s Harry like as a boyfriend?” Jamie asked, causing Y/N to freeze in her seat.

Harry’s hand stilled from where it had been drawing invisible circles on her knee. The table seemed to pause, sensing the awkwardness in the air.

“That bad?” Jamie chuckled, trying to lighten the moment.

Y/N’s mind scrambled for the right words. She wasn’t sure how to describe their relationship—things were still new, and they had never really put a label on it beyond "dating." Her mouth felt dry as she fumbled for a response.

“U-um, we’re not— I don’t think—” Y/N stumbled, her face flushing. She didn’t know how to put it into words, not wanting to make things awkward or overthink it.

Before she could continue, Sarah quickly chimed in with a grin, “A better boyfriend than you.”

The entire table burst out laughing, and the tension in the air seemed to lift immediately. Jamie threw his hands up in mock defeat, shaking his head with a smirk.

“Alright, alright. I’ll take the loss. But I’m definitely curious now,” he said, leaning forward. “What makes Harry such a great boyfriend, then?”

Y/N glanced at Harry, meeting his eyes, which were filled with amusement but also a warmth that made her heart skip. "Yeah, Bambi, what am I like as a boyfriend?"

Her lips parted at the question. It was the first time he had referred to their relationship so openly, and the realisation hit her in a way that made her smile nervously.

“Well,” Y/N began, her voice softening as she relaxed, “he’s incredibly thoughtful. He’s always checking in on me, making sure I’m alright, and—he actually listens. He’s not the kind of guy who brushes off what I say or rushes through things. He’s really present.”

Harry’s hand slid over to hers under the table, his fingers intertwining with hers in a quiet show of support. He squeezed her hand gently, his gaze tender, saying everything without needing words.

“And he’s fun,” Y/N added with a light laugh, her nervousness easing. “He doesn’t take himself too seriously, which is honestly one of my favorite things about him.”

Harry’s smile deepened at her words, and there was something in the way he looked at her—like he was asking her a question without saying it aloud. “I love it… Being his girlfriend.” Y/N blushed but Harry’s face widened into a grin, one of his dimples appearing on his cheek. 

The group exchanged knowing glances, clearly enjoying the moment. Alessia raised her glass, her eyes twinkling.

“To Y/N, we wish you all the luck in the world for having to put up with us.” she said, toasting her with a wink.

Everyone joined in, lifting their glasses, and Y/N felt her heart swell at the way Harry’s friends rallied around them. 

. . .

Y/N hadn’t noticed how much Harry had had to drink until his head rested on her shoulder, in the middle of her conversing some more with Sarah and Alessia,  “Think I want to go home Bambi,” He murmured. Y/N pushed his droopy curls back and saw the hazy look in his eye, a lazy smile on his lip, “So pretty,” His lips puckered as he spoke. 

Y/N giggled, “How are we meant to get home silly, you drove us here.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry huffed, “I did didn’t I?”

Sarah chuckled, “We can drop you guys home on the way back to our place. We’ll just tell the valet to keep hold of his car. He can pick it up tomorrow as punishment.” 

Y/N laughed softly, nodding her thanks to Sarah. "That sounds like a good plan," she said, looking down at Harry, whose cheek was now squished adorably against her shoulder. He was humming a tune she couldn’t quite place, the sound low and soothing despite his obvious tipsiness.

Harry’s hand found hers under the table, his fingers clumsily lacing through hers. “Y’ make me the happiest Bambi. ‘M so happy y’ m’ girlfriend.” he mumbled, his words slightly slurred but unmistakably earnest.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, her heart skipping a beat. “That’s a lot of happy,”

“It is isn’t it?” Harry laughs. 

Sarah stood up, grabbing her bag. “Alright, let’s get you two lovebirds home.”

Y/N helped him to his feet. He wobbled slightly, leaning heavily against her. “You’re my favorite person ever, you know that?” he said as they made their way to the exit, his voice loud enough to draw a few amused glances from nearby tables.

“I think I’m starting to get the idea,” Y/N replied, her tone affectionate as she wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him.

“I’m hungry,” he announced loudly. “Can we get chips? Or pizza?”

“Let’s get you home first, superstar,” Mitch said, clapping him on the back and making Harry stumble slightly into Y/N.

“You’re my hero,” Harry murmured dramatically as they shuffled toward the car, his arm draped over her shoulder. “You saved me, Bambi. You’re the best.”

“You’re going to think otherwise when you see how many embarrassing photos Sarah and Alessia probably took tonight,” Y/N quipped, her laughter blending with the others’ as they piled into the car.

“Embarrassing?” Harry blinked at her, his expression mock-serious. “Never. I look good in all lighting.”

Y/N shook her head, letting out a laugh as Harry’s head found her shoulder once more. “We’ll see about that in the morning,” she said, her voice fond.

Harry let out a contented sigh. “You smell so nice,” he murmured sleepily.

Y/N giggled, smoothing her hand over his curls. “You’re ridiculous.”

As the car pulled away from the bar, Harry mumbled something about her being “too good for him” before trailing off into a soft snore. Y/N looked down at him, her heart swelling. Even in his drunken, clumsy state, he had a way of making her feel like the most important person in the world.

Once Sarah and Mitch dropped them off right at Harry’s front door, Y/N was left with the daunting task of lugging Harry to his room. He wasn’t exactly helping, his body swaying dramatically as she tried to steady him.

“Harry, you’re not making this easy,” she huffed, half-laughing as he stumbled. By some miracle, she managed to guide him to the bed, where he flopped down—half on the mattress, half on the floor.

“Mission accomplished,” she muttered under her breath, crouching down to untie his laces. But just as she reached for his shoe, he playfully kicked his foot away, his lips curling into a cheeky grin.

“C’mere, Bambi,” he murmured, his voice low and a little slurred.

Y/N stood, brushing off her knees, only to find herself being tugged down onto the bed when he grabbed her wrist. She landed on top of him with a surprised gasp, her hands braced against his chest.

“Harry!” she exclaimed softly, but he didn’t say anything, just looked up at her with those green eyes, hazy but full of something she couldn’t quite describe.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The world around them seemed to blur as they gazed at each other, an unspoken connection passing between them. Harry reached up, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The faint smell of alcohol lingered on his breath, but his touch was steady, his expression achingly tender.

“Mean it,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “You make me the happiest.”

Y/N’s heart twisted at the sincerity in his words, her breath catching in her throat. Her lips curved into a soft smile as she cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing against his skin. “You make me the happiest too, Harry.”

Taglist~

ravenclawmarvel noididnotsignupforthis comicalivy @boomitsallie1 @hazzarules @squirreljoe @c3lline0 @harry2121 @lizsogolden @its-his-dimples @tchalametishot @youngpastafanmug @awritingtree @reidsblessing @idontcareforausernamesblog @mads3502 @cherrys4suckers @lomlolivia @tenaciousperfectionunknown malf-azx @angeldavis777 fruity-harry he6rtshaker vikiii07 hannah9921 pepperonipastas sideboobrry11 soteric-princess madelinelcl ciriceimpera angelbunny222 dutchtheatrelore tchlamqtsgf hawkinsavclub1983 ironstudentlady tpwk-harry-styles angywritesstuff hstbsl06

[no-144444]

different- o.piastri

summary: the differences are starting to show ow that oscar is going to be present in mia's life, and in turn, yours.

pairing: oscar piastri x ex! single mom! fem! reader

part one | part two | part three

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You were terrified. The past few weeks had been… strange, to say the least. You’d seen Oscar every single day of the last month. He moved his entire life to London in the span of a week for Mia. It reminded you of the teenage Oscar who would move mountains for you, and you were glad Mia got that side of him too.

It had been a whirlwind of emotions since Australia, and you’d watched every Grand Prix since then from your London house. Mia adored it. You told your family and friends about Oscar coming into Mia’s life, and there were varying degrees of support, but Teresa, your closest friend, hated Oscar. Every time she saw him it was either a roll of the eyes or a passive aggressive comment, but he took it all in good faith and just smiled and continued talking. It was a lot though, you’d been Oscar-less for 4 years, just seeing him through a screen, and now he was coming to your apartment everyday with a coffee for you, and something for Mia. Now, you two texted daily. Now, he was there again, and it freaked you out. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

Oscar sat outside in his car, psyching himself up for the conversation that was about to happen. How the fuck dop you tell a 4 year old that you’re her dad and you didn’t know about her for 4 years, and now you want to be in her life every single day? How do you apologise for the missed time? How would he apologise to you if she got mad at you? What if she hated him forever and he lost her and you? How could he prove to both of you that he was serious about you two?

Beth: You’ve been MIA since last week, what’s up Osc? Call me please xxx

He cursed himself and the universe's impeccable timing. Beth was the girl he’d been seeing for a few months, and like all the girls he’d dated since you, bore a striking resemblance. He didn’t know what to tell her, how to explain it, or if he even should. His first thought was to ask you what he should do, what you’d be comfortable with him telling, and then he realised he would then be admitting to ‘moving on’, when he really only wanted you. He was at a stand-still in his brain, and muted her messages before going up to your front door. 

“Hey,” you smiled, opening the door to him, Mia on your hip. The picture in front of him made his heart ache a little bit. He could imagine himself coming home to it every night, after every race, for the past few years. “Come in.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, walking inside and taking Mia out of your arms as she reached for him. She softened the ache a bit. “Hey Mia.”

“Hey Osc!” she bundled into his arms, squirming around. She directed him to her playroom where they spent about 3 hours together, before you came in to set her down for her nap. 

“Do you want to…?” you offered, gesturing to her bedroom. “I can show you, just in case you need to know one day.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and followed behind you. “Yeah, after you.” 

He watched as you gently tucked her in, a soft smile on your face as she looked at you with all the love in the world. He could’ve sworn his heart was trying to claw itself out of his chest to get to you two, but he swallowed back the tears, and left the room behind you, after kissing Mia on the forehead. 

“She really likes you,” you pointed out as you made him a coffee. 

“Thank you for letting me be part of this,” he nodded. “It means… everything to me. She does.”

You nodded. “You’re a natural.” 

He took the cup you handed him with a grateful nod, and you sat across from him. “How are you doing?” 

You stared at him like a deer in headlights for a moment then looked back down at your own mug. “Can I be honest?”

“Of course,” he assured you. “I want you to be.”

“I’m a bit… overwhelmed? If that’s the right word. This is all just… a lot,” you explained. “It’s just… I was a single mom for like 4 years, and now I have you and I guess I’m just still getting used to it. Not that it’s bad or anything, it’s just… different. But Mia and you get on so well, and you’ve been so kind throughout this whole process, so, thank you for that. It’s just-”

“Weird?” he offered, and you chuckled. 

“Weird,” you confirmed. “What about you?” 

“It’s been weird, obviously. But, I adore her. I knew I had cared about people before, but this is just… different. I didn’t think I could care about someone so much after you-” He cut himself off with a sigh. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s alright,” you shook your head. “I get what you mean.” 

He nodded. “She’s wonderful. She’s so smart. She’s so funny. She’s so… you, honestly,” he chuckled.

“She’s a mini me that looks like a mini you,” you laughed. He’d missed that laugh. He’d missed you. 

He nodded. “Well, yeah.”

“How does it feel to be leading the championship?” you asked, sipping your tea. 

He didn’t even think about F1 unless he was in the car. He just raced, and then rushed home to see you and Mia. He shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about it,” he breathed out a long sigh. “I guess it feels good?”

“You haven’t thought about it?” you gawked. 

“I usually rush home after races,” he admitted. “I like to talk to Mia about it.” 

“Oh,” you looked at him, then back down at your mug. “Well, y’know, we could come to the next one, if you want her there.”

“I’d want you there too,” he took your hand. “Both of you.” 

You nodded. “We could be there.”

“I’d like that,” he smiled, his thumb running over your knuckles. “I’d like that a lot.” 

“Alright,” you smiled flatly, but he could see something in your eye, something that made him think he was doing something right. “We’ll make it happen.” 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

“Oscar… is my dad?” Mia questioned. “How?” 

“Well, Oscar and I used to be in a relationship, and we loved each other very much. And we broke up before I knew I was pregnant with you, and I didn’t have a way to tell him you were on the way, but we saw each other in Australia and I told him then, and that’s why he’s been coming over so much,” you explained calmly and gently. 

She nodded for a moment. “That makes sense. Why did you two break up?” 

Both of you cringed and he turned to look at you. 

“Sometimes people may be the right fit, but it might just not be the right time in their lives for them to be together. That’s what happened with me and Oscar,” you spoke slowly, basically grasping at straws to think of something to explain your very complicated break up. 

Oscar tried not to let himself get excited at the fact that you still thought he was right right person for you, but it did make him fell quite good about himself. Right person, wrong time? He could work with that.

“So do I call Oscar; dad, or Oscar?” she asked, glazing over your explanation. 

“You can call me whatever you want,” he smiled. “Oscar, Osc, dad, anything.”

She nodded, studying him again. “I think I’ll call you dad,” he decided. “I like you a lot dad. Are you going to stick around now?” 

He chuckled. “I’m going to stick around until the end of time Mia,” he promised. “Swear.”

“And you and mom are going to get back together?” she asked sceptically.

“Umm,” he thought about it for a moment. “We don’t know.”

“Well you should. Mommy has been single since I was born, and she needs someone who’ll love her,” she blurted out as you covered your face with your hands. 

“Mia,” you groaned. 

“What?! It’s the truth!” Mia shrieked. 

“Anyway,” you changed the topic. “Do you have any other questions?” 

“Not really,” she admitted. “Am I going to have to go between dad and moms house?”

You looked at each other. “We haven’t really talked about that yet,” Oscar admitted. “Is that something you don’t want?” 

“No. It seems like a lot. I want both of you in the same house with me,” she shook her head. 

You turned to each other again. “Well, we’ll talk about it,” you smiled back at Mia. 

“Can dad stay over tonight?” She asked. “I want to watch a movie with him.”

“Of course he can sweetheart,” you smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll get dinner started.”

“I’ll clean up the playroom!” She called out as she ran in the direction of her room. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

“That wasn’t bad,” he announced as he chopped up carrots. 

“Not at all,” you nodded, your mind a million miles away. 

“I thought she’d take it worse,” he sighed. “Oh, and I really don’t have to stay over tonight-“

“Nonsense,” you brushed him off. “We have a spare bedroom. It’s all yours.” 

“Thank you, for all of this,” he smiled. “She genuinely means everything to me.” 

“That makes two of us,” you smiled, a genuinely, real smile. The ones he was so used to back in the day.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

mclaren masterlist

navigation for my blog :)

taglist:

@htpssgavi @widow-cevans @anayaverse @1800-love-me

[clockwayswrites]

Danny in Metropolis, ch4 p1

aka: Kon is so gay and so gone for this disaster twink

masterpost no concrit/editing please. very headache, very sleepy, very hand hurty <3

For the first time since Kon had started bringing them for him, Danny wasn’t finishing his lunch. It was extra worrying because Danny hadn’t even touched the dried mango slices, which was one of his absolute favorite lunch time items. Kon hated himself a little for knowing that and noticing, but he did and had. He noticed a lot of little things about Danny.

That day Kon was noticing how pale Danny was, that the circle under his eyes were darker, that his eyes were a little glassy. All Kon could think of was that conversation were Clark had asked if Danny had been sick and a list: Gatorade, jello, broth, fake cherry flavoring.

With their other friends at the table, Kon couldn’t even ask about Danny if he was feeling sick. He was sure if he had tried that Danny would just laugh it off. He always tried to laugh things off. Which meant for the rest of the day that Kon just had to worry and notice.

Notice Danny growing more fatigued. Notice how he drooped. Notice the bit of blood crusted around Danny’s nose after he got back from the bathroom in last period.

Kon picked up Danny’s backpack when the bell rung and they stood to leave. Danny looked at him with furrowed brows, but Kon just slung it on his front and raised his chin with a jut. “I’m walking you home—mine or yours, whichever.”

Danny rolled his eyes, but even that motion didn’t have any heart in it. “Don’t want to be a bother.”

“For like the hundredth time, you’re not a bother. My parents love you and Jon can’t wait to bug you about more space facts.”

Danny blushed faintly and rubbed at the back of his neck. “They do not love me.”

“They love you,” Kon said confidently. “You’re a good influence on my or some shit. They think you’re all polite and adorable.”

Danny gave a little snort. “I am polite and adorable.”

Kon gave a little shrug, which was hindered by the two backpacks he had on. “Never said they were wrong.”

Danny sputtered at Kon’s easy response and blushed a little deeper.

“My place then? Lois is making walking tacos which is like, the one thing that she can reliably make and not mess up. I think it’s because it’s just adding taco seasoning to ground turkey. Oh, are you up for meat tonight? We can do chickpeas for you if you aren’t,” Kon said. As long as he kept talking he knew that Danny would just follow. It was a little underhanded, but Kon figured sometimes Danny needed that to take care of himself. “I talked to Jon’s little demon friend and he said that chickpeas were a really good substitution for meat a lot of times. But also there will be baked beans cause we always have those with walking tacos so maybe you don’t want anything else? Anyways, the option is there. Do you even like chickpeas?”

“Chickpeas is humus, yeah? I like them like that,” Danny said after a beat where he was clearly trying to catch up with Kon’s stream of words. “But what the hell are ‘walking tacos’?”

“Oh, ah, Frito salad? Taco bowl? Taco salad? Taco meat, beans, and cheese over lettuce and Fritos. M—Lois will have salsa and sour cream too,” Kon explained.

“Oh. Yeah, my old school used to do those for lunch sometimes. That seems like a weird thing to be good at making,” Danny pointed out.

“Lois says it’s because of the walking part, it’s good to eat on the road between stories,” Kon said. “Convince store food and things you can make in a hotel room are her specialties.”

Danny chuckled at that (the first laugh Kon had heard from him that day). “That’s almost hard to believe. She seems so…big.”

“Big?”

"Danny shrugged. “Larger than life. Big city. Powerful. She’s a whirlwind, like you are.”

Kon blinked. “You think I’m a whirlwind?”

“Yep,” Danny said, popping the P. “I mean, like, where even are we? I don’t know how we got here, I was just caught up in whirlwind Conner.”

Kon snorted. “We’re taking a short cut back to my place so I can make you take a damn nap.”

“Nap. A nap sounds really good,” Danny said dreamily.

[satellite-evans]

Bisous

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Summary: Charles' daughter loves to prank him <3

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The morning sun began its slow ascent over the horizon, filtering through the sheer curtains of your Monaco apartment. The soft, honey-hued glow that spread across the room seemed to breathe life into every corner. The elegant furniture, a blend of sleek modernity and comfortable coziness, caught the light in just the right way, creating an atmosphere of peaceful serenity. Outside, the sounds of the city were a distant hum—a low, constant pulse that blended with the faint rustling of leaves from the balcony plants, which swayed gently in the breeze. Every so often, you could hear the soft cry of seagulls soaring above the harbor, a reminder of the water that lay just beyond the city’s edge. Together, these sounds formed a comforting melody, one that had become the soundtrack to your mornings. It was a rhythm you cherished deeply, a moment of stillness amidst the sometimes overwhelming pace of life.

The rich, inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee drifted from the kitchen, swirling through the air and wrapping around you like a cozy embrace. It was your daily ritual—the one constant in your life that always brought a sense of calm. The familiar scent, warm and robust, settled in your chest as you took a slow, deep breath, savoring it. No matter how chaotic the rest of the day might become, this quiet moment was yours. It was the calm before the storm, the stillness before the world outside demanded your attention.

However, as is often the case with motherhood, this tranquil morning wouldn’t last long.

The soft, rhythmic sound of tiny feet pattering against the hardwood floor quickly broke the serenity. You turned just in time to see Amelie—your 2.5-year-old whirlwind—darting through the living room, her chestnut curls bouncing with every step. She was full of energy, her cheeks flushed with excitement, as she chased Leo, the family dog, around the room. The dog, who was equally enthusiastic, skidded around the furniture, dodging her tiny hands that reached for him. Her laughter echoed throughout the apartment, a sound so pure and infectious that it filled the space with a warmth only she could bring.

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched the playful scene unfold from the kitchen. Despite the exhaustion that motherhood often brought, these moments—these bursts of joy—made it all worth it. The sight of Amelie, with her sparkling eyes that seemed to mirror Charles’ in their depth, and her tiny arms flailing as she ran after the dog, made your heart swell. She was the perfect blend of him—her father—and you.

It was almost hard to believe how fast she was growing up. Just a few months ago, she was still babbling nonsensically, and now she could say over 180 words (yes, you had counted them all), stringing together simple sentences that left you in awe. The way she repeated words, mimicking both you and Charles, was nothing short of miraculous. Each new sentence felt like a little victory, a reminder of how quickly time passed.

Amelie’s bond with Charles was a thing of its own. The two of them were inseparable, a pair that seemed destined for each other from the moment she was born. When Charles was home, she followed him everywhere, clinging to him with a love that was both adorable and touching. It was no surprise that her first word had been ‘Papa.’ Whenever Charles was around, her little world seemed to revolve around him, her every action drawing him into her orbit.

Today, though, was different. Today was special. Charles was finally coming home after weeks of being away for races. The moment Amelie heard the news that morning, she could hardly contain herself. She’d been bouncing on the bed, her tiny legs kicking in excitement, her high-pitched voice squealing with joy. "Papa come today! Maman, me excited!" she had exclaimed, her face lighting up with the kind of joy that only a child could express.

You couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm, pulling her into your arms for a quick hug. "I know, baby, I’m excited too," you said softly, brushing her curls out of her face. "But you have to save some of that energy for Papa so you can play together later, okay?"

Amelie nodded, her excitement practically radiating off her. "Otay, Maman," she had replied, her eyes gleaming with anticipation and went straight to the living room.

That promise was long forgotten as she was now chasing Leo around the living room, they were running around as though the whole apartment was their personal racetrack. The scene was one of pure chaos, but it was the kind of chaos that made life so full.

"Amelie Leclerc, can you please stop chasing Leo?" You called out playfully, though you could barely keep up with her giggles and the sound of her tiny feet tapping across the floor. You tried to grab her, but she managed to duck away with a squeal of laughter, running in the opposite direction.

Despite the exhaustion you could already feel creeping in, you couldn’t help but smile. Watching her run, her little body so full of life, it was impossible to not be filled with love. You finally caught her, scooping her up into your arms, the warmth of her small frame against you grounding you in the moment.

"What's up with you, young lady? Where is all this energy coming from?" You asked, brushing the hair out of her face. "It’s not even noon yet, and Maman is already tired." You teased, brushing the hair out of her face.

You carried her to the kitchen and began preparing her breakfast. Charles had always been very careful about her diet, ensuring she had balanced, healthy meals, and you followed that lead. Today’s breakfast was simple but wholesome—milk, cereal, a little fruit, and a slice of whole wheat toast, all made with love. She ate everything, happily chatting about how she was going to greet Charles and show him her new toy car collection. Her excitement was palpable, filling the space around you with a warmth that seemed to echo the sunlight streaming through the windows.

After breakfast, you helped Amelie get ready, brushing her hair and letting her pick out a pink bow to match her outfit—a red Ferrari T-shirt and tiny denim shorts. As she twirled around, admiring herself in the mirror, she beamed with pride. "Look, Maman! I am beautiful!"

Your heart swelled with love for her, your eyes soft with affection. "Yes, you are, honey—the most beautiful girl I have ever seen," you told her, your voice thick with emotion.

Just as you were about to sit down on the couch, the front door creaked open, and the familiar sound of Leo’s excited bark filled the apartment. The dog’s tail wagged furiously as he bolted toward the door, clearly recognizing the scent of the one person he always welcomed with open arms—Charles. You turned toward the door, and your heart skipped a beat as you saw your husband step inside, his face lighting up the moment he saw you.

Leo sprinted toward him, jumping up to cover him in kisses, and Charles laughed as he crouched down to greet him. "Hey, Leo! Did you take care of our girls? Good boy!" he chuckled, scratching the dog’s ears.

You ran to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Hey, baby. Welcome home," you whispered against his skin, your heart racing at the feel of him in your arms once more. His familiar scent enveloped you, grounding you in the moment.

Charles’s response was immediate. He cupped your face with both hands, his lips pressing against yours in a kiss that was both urgent and tender. A soft, needy sigh escaped him as his lips trailed down to your jaw, then to the side of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, and his hands roamed down your back, pulling you tighter to him as though he never wanted to let go.

"God, I missed you so much," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. His hands slid into your hair, gently tugging you closer, burying his face in the softness of it. "I thought about you every damn day. Your scent... the way you feel in my arms… I couldn’t wait to come home to you guys. Speaking of, where's Amelie? I missed her like crazy."

That was a good question. Normally, Amelie would be the first one to run to him, her little feet pounding against the hardwood floor as she squealed with excitement. But today, when you turned to see her, there she was, still sitting on the couch, staring intently at the TV, completely oblivious to her father’s return.

You raised an eyebrow, confused. “Amelie, look! Papa is home! Aren’t you happy?” You called out gently, stepping toward her with Charles following close behind. The two of you sat down in front of her, a bit hesitant, unsure of what was going on.

Charles leaned forward slightly, his voice soft but laced with concern. “Hey, chérie, Papa is home! Didn’t you miss me?” He gave her a hopeful smile, but his eyes betrayed a hint of nervousness, clearly wondering if she’d forgotten him after all this time.

You joined in, trying to jog her memory. “Amelie, remember how excited you were this morning? You even picked your outfit for Papa.” You smiled as you spoke, trying to make the connection for her.

Amelie paused, still staring at the TV, her little fingers absently tracing the edge of her shirt. Then, without any warning, she leaned in and gave you a big, sloppy kiss right on the lips, her face lighting up with affection. “MUAH! Maman, I love you,” she said in her sweetest little voice, her eyes sparkling with pure love.

You were taken aback for a moment, smiling warmly at her. You could feel the surprise and confusion rising in Charles’s gaze, his mouth slightly open as he looked from Amelie to you. Why wasn’t she rushing to him, as she always did?

The silence hung in the air for a moment before Charles spoke up again, his voice tinged with disbelief. “I knew it. She forgot me! Mon Dieu, my own daughter forgot me!” He let out an exaggerated groan, clutching his chest in mock despair.

You couldn’t help but laugh, though a part of you shared the same confusion. You reached over and gently placed a reassuring hand on his chest, your thumb brushing over his shirt as you looked up at him with a small smile. “Relax, Charles. She was ecstatic this morning. Maybe she’s just shy. You know how she can get when she's in a new mood.”

Charles gave you a skeptical look, but before he could say anything else, Amelie turned toward you again and planted another kiss on your cheek. “MUAH! Maman is mine,” she said, giggling as she gave you a tight hug.

The affectionate gesture only made Charles’s face drop even further. He sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “I’ve been replaced, haven’t I? She’s all yours now, Maman.”

Just as Charles began to stand up, clearly disheartened, Amelie’s expression suddenly shifted. A twinkle danced in her eyes, and before either of you could react, she burst out laughing, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Surprise, Papa! I joke youuu!”

With a squeal of laughter, Amelie jumped off the couch and ran straight into Charles’s arms. He was caught off guard for a moment, but then, as if on instinct, he swept her up into his arms, his heart visibly lifting as he pulled her close.

“Oh my God, Amelie, you pranked Papa! You got me so good, chérie!” Charles laughed, his voice full of relief and pure joy as he kissed her cheeks over and over, showering her with affection. “Papa thought you forgot about him! You’re going to be trouble, little one.”

Amelie giggled, her tiny hands grasping his face, and with all the innocence of a child, she responded, “I remember you. Always. I love you, Papa.”

Charles’s eyes softened, and he blinked away a tear that had unexpectedly formed. He held her tightly, his voice full of emotion. “I love you too, mon amour,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

You watched the scene unfold, feeling a rush of warmth flood through you. It was moments like these that made everything worthwhile—the simple, genuine love and affection that filled your home.

Amelie, still clinging to her father’s neck, turned toward you eagerly. “Papa, play cars with me now?” she asked, her voice full of anticipation.

Charles smiled, the familiar light returning to his eyes as he nodded. “Of course, let’s go! But first, a big group hug.” He pulled you both in close, wrapping his arms tightly around you and Amelie. The three of you stood there for a moment, savoring the closeness, the warmth of your little family.

“I love my girls,” he whispered, his voice filled with adoration.

You kissed his cheek, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and love in your heart. “And we love you too,” you replied, your words sincere and full of warmth.

[tonfairy]

Diagnosis? Us !

pairing : pediatrician! anton x internist! reader

genre : fluff, comfort, slice-of-life, established relationship

wc : 741

💌 : hii ! dropping this mini fluff now since i might not be around much next week — need to prep for my comprehensive exam 💔 (proofread so enjoy <3!)

The number of patients today feels unusual; you realize that you haven’t left your consultation room since you entered at 8 a.m. You breathe heavily and start stretching after consulting what is probably your last patient for the day. Just as you're about to sit down, you glance at your digital clock — it's 4 p.m. 

Oh no.

In sharp contrast to the sterile hallways you just left, the sweet scent of jasmine and the soft trickling of water welcome you as you push open the garden door at exactly 4:01 p.m. Anton is sitting on one of the garden benches, two paper cups in his hands like a cocky barista, one leg crossed over the other.

“You’re late,” he says without looking up. “I was about to file a missing person report,” he adds, handing you your coffee.

“I’m one minute late. That barely counts,” you reply, rolling your eyes.

“Well, in our line of work, every minute matters— and I almost drank your coffee,” he says, turning to face you with a grin and a sparkle of mock sincerity.

“Blah, blah, blah. As if you’d dare,” you say, dropping into the seat beside him and tossing your stethoscope into his lap.

“That’s harassment!” he grumbles, lifting it like it’s offended him.

“File a report, Dr. Lee. I dare you,” you snort.

“You know,” Anton says, nudging your coffee toward you, “for someone who’s always ‘barely late,’ you really know how to make an entrance.”

You take a sip. The coffee’s lukewarm, but his presence makes up for it. “You say that like you’re not the golden retriever here.”

Anton leans in slightly. “That's because you are more important to me than good coffee. And that's a statement.”

You both laughed— softly and comfortably.  The kind of laughter that lets you forget thinking about the pagers, the paperwork, and the patients. For weeks, your shifts have been out of sync. The smell of each other left on shared coats and scrawled post-its can sometimes make it seem like your relationship is all that exists. Watching a dawn through the glass of the hospital parking lot was the closest you’ve gotten to going on a date lately. 

Without thinking, you reached for his hand, fingers lacing through his, and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I missed you, honey,” you whispered, loud enough for him to hear. 

Anton turned his head slightly, letting his cheek brush against your hair. 

“I missed you, too,”  he said with a softer voice. “You’ve been pushing yourself too much.” 

You sighed. “I know. Today was something else that I even forgot to eat for lunch.”

He gave a soft sneer. “I should’ve bought you a meal instead of coffee.” 

You smiled sweetly. “My afternoon has already been made better by you, so don’t push it— and at least your human jelly beans give you silly crayon drawings. All I get from mine is high blood pressure and a dodgy diagnosis.”

He giggled softly. “What a wonderful Internal Medicine life.”

You tapped his thigh with your other hand. “Well, at least I don’t do silly things for my patients to listen.”

“That’s below the belt!” Anton protests. 

After a little pause, he added, almost too nonchalantly, “I was asked by one of my little whirlwinds today if I had any babies, and when I told her no, she seemed really offended.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So. . are we catching baby fever now?”

An innocent smile twitched at Anton's lips as he shook his head. “I mean… they’re kind of adorable. Chaotic, but— fun. Someday.” 

You chuckled softly. “Toni, we hardly get to see each other long enough to pour our coffee. It may take a miracle to produce a baby… or at least schedules that are in cohesion.” 

“Then I’ll just keep bringing coffee until the rest falls into place.”

You nudged him gently. “Keep the coffee in and we’ll make it happen.” 

He squeezed your hand. “Can I push my luck a little?”

Curious, you raised your head. “Depends”

He gave you a softer look this time. “Let's take tonight.. no scrubs, no charts—only the two of us…I miss us.” 

“I miss us, too,” you smiled. 

He gently squeezed your hand again. “So… Dinner?” 

"Only if your awful tea is the last thing left."

He laughed. “That's part of the charm!”

You stood, still holding his hand. “Then charm me, Doctor Lee.”

-end-

tysm for reading ! 🫂🩷

divider from @strangergraphics <3

[babyboyjude]

early mornings and affirmations - Jude Bellingham

summary: Jude wakes up early on his day off so he spent his morning with his daughter.

warnings: not proofread

a’s notes: hello, my loves! Hope you’re all doing well and staying safe. This is my first time writing for Jude so if you guys like or hate it please lmk. Thank you so much for reading and seriously hope you like it<3

- -

The clock’s hands pointed to 6:23 a.m. when Jude blinked his eyes open, the remnants of sleep fading away. A gentle rustle caught his attention, beckoning him from the warmth of his bed. It was Brielle’s room, where he could hear the delightful sounds of his 3-year-old daughter bouncing on her bed, filled with giggles as she chatted animatedly, likely to her beloved stuffed bunny, Lulu. A soft thud echoed through the hall, prompting him to sit up and slip out of the cozy cocoon of blankets, careful not to disturb his girlfriend, who was blissfully entwined within a fortress of pillows.

Peering down the hallway, he spied Brielle, a whirlwind of energy, giggling softly while she flitted around her room. Her tiny feet barely touched the ground as she jumped in pure joy.

“Brielle, remember what Mama and I said about running and jumping in your room?” Jude called out gently, his voice a soothing balm in the early morning light.

She froze mid-jump at the familiar sound of his voice, Brielle halted mid-air, her eyes widening as an expression of innocent guilt spread across her cherubic face. A tiny, sheepish smile crept onto her lips as she replied, “Sorry, Daddy,” her voice a mere whisper, barely breaking the silence, before she sprinted toward him with arms wide open, resembling a small bird yearning to take flight. Jude caught her in an embrace, reveling in the warmth radiating from her little body as her soft cheek nestled against his chest. Instinctively, her thumb sought comfort in her mouth, only to be replaced quickly by her beloved pacifier. A symphony of giggles erupted from her, the sound of pure joy filling the air as Jude showered her cheeks with affectionate, playful kisses, creating a cocoon of tenderness around them.

Hand in hand, they shuffled into the living room, a sanctuary of comfort and familiarity, where they collapsed onto the plush couch, enveloping each other in a cozy embrace. Outside, the world unfolded at a leisurely pace, the morning sun casting a golden hue through the windows while the gentle chirping of birds harmonized with the cadence of their shared breaths. Jude’s fingers gently threaded through her soft, curly hair, a smile blossoming as he observed his daughter, blissfully fighting the inevitable lure of sleep. She was utterly adorable, lost in the warmth they shared, her eyelids fluttering as she valiantly attempted to stay awake.

Reaching for a nearby blanket, a colorful patchwork of soft fabric, he draped it over both of them just as a faint whimper slipped from her lips, a tender signal of her reluctance to part from his side. He carefully laid her down beside him, hand soothingly rubbing her back in gentle circles, quelling her soft cries. “It’s okay, my little princess. I’m right here,” he reassured her in a whisper, his heart swelling with an overwhelming tide of love.

Brielle’s small arms wrapped around his neck, clutching him with determined strength, her sleepy eyes still sparking with the need for connection. “Talk to me, Daddy,” she urged, her voice small and yearning, filling the silence with a tender plea.

“How about we say our morning affirmations together?” Jude proposed, his hand affectionately brushing against her chubby cheeks, a gesture that elicited a twinkle of excitement in her sleepy eyes.

With a determined nod, Brielle perked up, an effervescent spirit ignited within her, ready to share the special words they cherished. “I am brave, I am loved, I can do it, and I am special,” they recited softly together, the words weaving a tapestry of warmth and encouragement, punctuated by Jude’s beaming smile and the profound bond they shared, filling the room with a vibrant sense of joy and comfort unique to only a father and daughter.

He gently pressed his lips to her forehead, enveloping her delicate face in his large, warm hands, playfully squeezing her cheeks between his fingers. “That’s my girl,” Jude said with a tender smile as a soft “thank you” escaped her lips, carrying warmth and affection.

With a gleeful sparkle in her eyes, she nestled closer and climbed into his lap, her small hands gripping his face as if she were framing a cherished portrait. “Your turn, Daddy,” she announced, her voice filled with excitement.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and full of warmth, and took a moment to gather his thoughts. “I am confident, I am loved, I am strong, and I am enough,” he said, each word infused with sincerity. Brielle beamed at him, her eyes shining with admiration before planting a gentle kiss on his cheek, leaving a sweet warmth where her lips had touched.

Pulling back slightly, she clapped her little hands together in delight. “Good job, daddy! I’m so proud of you,” she cheered, her voice ringing out with joy. At that moment, Jude felt his heart swell with happiness, a rush of gratitude washing over him at her kind words and the bond they shared.

Jude felt a rush of emotions well up inside him, his eyes glistening with tears of love and pride as he absorbed the pure, heartfelt simplicity of Brielle's words. They pierced through any lingering doubts, reaching deep into his core. He took a brief pause to regain his composure, her unwavering faith in him reigniting his sense of self-worth. With a playful grin, he gently tousled his daughter's soft hair, the touch filled with warmth and affection. “You’re my biggest supporter other than Mama, you know that right?” he said, his voice thick with emotion, each word imbued with sincerity.

A melodic laugh bubbled up from Brielle, her delightful giggle ringing throughout the room like the sweetest music, infusing the atmosphere with vibrant energy. As Jude marveled at her spirited laughter, a mischievous thought struck him. He looked up, a playful glimmer sparkling in his eyes. Brielle’s eyes widened momentarily in delight as she nodded eagerly, her small hand reaching out to lightly grasp his finger, her skin soft and warm. The innocence of her expression enveloped him in a profound sense of trust and love. “Of course, I am. I love you so, so much,” she exclaimed, her voice whimsical and light, infused with the unfiltered joy that only a child can possess.

Jude felt his heart melt further at her sweet declaration. Overcome with gratitude for the bond they shared, he wrapped his arm around her in a playful embrace, pulling her close against him.

Brielle nestled into his side, her tiny frame fitting perfectly against him as she laid her head against his solid chest. She could feel the steady, comforting rhythm of his heartbeat, a soothing reminder of her father’s presence. Jude kept his arm around her, providing warmth and security, and for a moment, they simply rested there, soaking in the love that radiated between them. The air felt thick with affection, making every moment seem timeless. Just as he was about to share yet another loving sentiment, the soft sound of her gentle snores drifted up to him, a sweet reminder that sometimes, simply being together was the most beautiful thing of all.

[sophsbookstore]

i loved the quinn x pregnant!reader 💕 i was wondering if you could write one of their baby shower, where quinn is just being so attentive since it can get overwhelming tyy

Little All Star

Quinn Hughes x Pregnant!reader

read part 3 here!

Word count: 1564

Hockey Masterlist

A/N: Baby shower time!! (I also added a gender reveal at the end!)

The room buzzed with a chaotic symphony of laughter, chatter, and the clinking of champagne flutes (sparkling cider for her, of course). (Y/N), radiant with a seven-month glow, navigated the crowded living room of their Vancouver home with practiced ease, a hand resting protectively on her swollen belly. It was her baby shower, and the guest list read like a who's who of the NHL. Seriously, almost every player seemed to be there, along with their wives and girlfriends. It was a testament to Quinn's popularity, and to the genuine warmth (Y/N) herself radiated.

(Y/N) turned to Nathan MacKinnon and his partner. "Nate! You made it! I was worried you’d still be stuck in practice."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Nate grinned, handing her a gift bag. "Congrats, (Y/N) and Quinn. You two are going to be amazing parents."

She moved on, greeting Auston Matthews, Cale Makar, and a slew of other hockey stars and their families. It was a whirlwind of well-wishes, baby advice (solicited and unsolicited), and gifts that ranged from adorable knitted outfits to high-tech baby monitors. Quinn, ever the gracious host, was circulating too, though (Y/N) noticed he kept a watchful eye on her, always ready to steer her away from any potential bumps or overly enthusiastic hugs.

After working her way through the room, (Y/N) clinked a spoon against a champagne glass, the sound cutting through the din. "Okay, everyone, can I have your attention for a moment?" she announced, a playful smile on her face. The room quieted down, all eyes turning towards her.

"First off, thank you all so much for being here. It means the world to Quinn and me to have you all celebrate this special moment with us. We're so excited to welcome our little one into the world, and we can't wait for all the chaos and joy that's to come."

She paused, gesturing towards a table laden with plain white onesies and fabric markers in every color imaginable. "Now, for a little activity. We'd love for each of you to personalize a onesie for our baby. Get creative! Draw a picture, write a message, whatever you like. We'll cherish these forever."

A murmur of excitement rippled through the room. Hockey players, known more for their skills on the ice than their artistic abilities, suddenly became engrossed in the task at hand. Auston Matthews meticulously drew a maple leaf, while Cale Makar opted for a more abstract design. Even Quinn, usually so reserved, was sketching something with a focused expression. (Y/N) watched him, her heart swelling with love. She knew he was going to be the most amazing dad.

Her future in-laws, Quinn’s parents and brothers, were beaming with pride. They hovered nearby, offering (Y/N) snacks and drinks, making sure she was comfortable. "You're glowing, sweetheart," Quinn’s mom, Ellen, said, squeezing her hand. "You and Quinn are going to make such wonderful parents."

As the afternoon progressed, the onesie-decorating continued, the laughter and chatter never ceasing. (Y/N) felt overwhelmed with love and gratitude. Looking around at the room full of people who cared about her and Quinn, she knew that their baby was already surrounded by so much love.

The aroma of mini quiches, sliders, and an assortment of other delectable finger foods filled the air. The onesie decorating had transitioned seamlessly into a relaxed buffet-style meal. Guests mingled, plates in hand, the earlier artistic endeavors now a source of amusement and lighthearted ribbing. (Y/N), however, was content to perch on a plush armchair, a plate of fruit and a small pastry balanced on her bump. She watched the scene unfold with a warm smile, feeling a profound sense of happiness.

Suddenly, Quinn was beside her, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. "Hey," he said softly, his eyes filled with concern. "You okay? You've been sitting here for a while."

(Y/N) looked up at him, her smile widening. "I'm perfect," she assured him, taking his hand in hers. "Just soaking it all in. It's amazing to see everyone here celebrating with us."

Quinn's gaze softened as he looked at her. "You're amazing," he murmured, his thumb gently stroking her hand. He glanced down at her belly. "And so is this little one."

"They're both great," (Y/N) confirmed, patting her bump affectionately. "Really. I'm feeling good. A little tired, maybe, but good."

Quinn still looked a little worried. "You sure? You haven't been up and moving around much."

(Y/N) chuckled. "I'm seven months pregnant, Quinn. Moving around isn't exactly my favorite pastime these days." She squeezed his hand. "Go on, enjoy yourself. Talk to the guys. I know you haven't seen some of them in a while."

Quinn hesitated. "I'm good here with you," he said, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Quinn," (Y/N) said gently, "I want you to have fun too. This is a celebration for you as well. Go on. I promise I'll be fine. My mom and your mom are keeping a close eye on me," she added, nodding towards the two women who were indeed hovering nearby, chatting animatedly.

Quinn finally relented, though his expression still held a hint of worry. "Okay," he said, giving her hand a final squeeze. "But I'll be checking in every five minutes."

(Y/N) laughed. "Deal."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, then brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," (Y/N) replied, her heart overflowing with love for this man who was so devoted to her and their unborn child.

As Quinn went off to join his teammates, (Y/N) watched him go, a soft smile playing on her lips. She knew he would always worry about them. It was just the kind of person he was. And honestly, she wouldn't have it any other way. It was a testament to his love, a love that she knew would only grow stronger when their little one finally arrived. She looked down at her belly, feeling a tiny flutter. "Your dad's a good one," she whispered to her baby. "We're lucky to have him."

The buffet tables were now mostly cleared, the remnants of the delicious food a testament to the celebratory feast. (Y/N) and Quinn, hand in hand, made their way to the center of the living room, a shared, excited glint in their eyes. They had a little surprise planned, a grand finale to the already wonderful afternoon.

"Alright everyone," (Y/N) announced, her voice ringing with anticipation. "We have one more little thing to share with you all before you go."

Quinn stepped forward, placing a protective arm around her. "We're so excited to finally reveal the gender of our baby," he said, his gaze sweeping over the crowd of smiling faces.

A collective gasp rippled through the room, followed by a flurry of excited whispers. The guests had been eagerly awaiting this moment. (Y/N) had strategically avoided any hints throughout the shower, keeping everyone guessing.

"And to help us with this very important announcement," (Y/N) continued, gesturing towards the doorway, "we have two very special helpers."

As if on cue, Jack and Luke Hughes walked into the room, a dramatic flair in their steps. The crowd erupted in laughter. Jack was decked out head-to-toe in blue, while Luke was a vision in pink. The brothers grinned mischievously at each other, the playful rivalry evident in their eyes.

"So," Quinn explained, a smile playing on his lips, "the Hughes brothers are going to settle this once and for all. A little brotherly competition to reveal whether we're welcoming a little hockey player or a future hockey player!"

The room erupted in cheers and laughter. Jack and Luke squared off, their playful banter echoing through the room. They started “play” fighting, shoving each other lightly, much to the amusement of the crowd. It was clear they were enjoying the theatrics of it all. The playful wrestling match continued for a few minutes, with both brothers putting on a show. Finally, after a particularly dramatic tumble, Jack emerged victorious, pinning Luke to the ground.

"It's a boy!" Jack shouted, pumping his fist in the air, his blue attire now even more prominent.

The room exploded. Cheers, whistles, and applause filled the air. Quinn let out a whoop of joy, pumping his fists in the air mirroring his younger brother and then turning to (Y/N) and pulling her into a passionate kiss.

"We're having a little boy!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with pure happiness.

The hockey players in the crowd went wild. "Future NHL star!" someone yelled. "Another Hughes brother on the ice!" "Get him a mini stick!" others shouted, their voices filled with excitement.

(Y/N) laughed, her eyes sparkling with tears of joy. She looked around at the room, at all the people who were sharing in their happiness, and felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Their little boy was already so loved.

As the celebration continued, (Y/N) leaned into Quinn, her hand resting on her belly. "Looks like we're going to have our hands full," she murmured.

Quinn smiled, kissing her forehead. "I wouldn't have it any other way," he replied, his eyes filled with love and anticipation. "I can't wait to meet our little guy."

[mead-iocre]

Ducky Turn! | Vivianne Miedema x Reader

You watched as Viv walked into the press conference room, trailing slightly behind Jonas. She was chatting animatedly to Connie, one of the Arsenal staff, and holding a reusable coffee tumbler in one hand. You also know that inside that tumbler is Viv’s favourite coffee "Morning Bliss," a small-batch, artisanal coffee roaster that you had bought from one of the local coffee shops in your area. She would sometimes bring a small bag of coffee beans to training or match days, and when you would ask her where she’ll find supplies to make the coffee, she’ll reply back with a“if there’s a will, there’s a way”. It’s become the only brand of coffee that Viv drinks.

Every morning, Viv likes to indulge herself in what she calls her “ritual”. The dutch begins her ritual by carefully measuring out the perfect amount of Morning Bliss beans. She prefers a medium roast, with notes of caramel and toasted almonds that allow the perfect balance of sweet to the bitter. She would grind the beans to perfection and then use the fancy sleek, stainless steel drip coffee maker that she had treated herself to a few months ago. As she waits for the brewing to complete, she would bask in the stillness and the quiet that is a rarity these days– or at least during the last 3 years. 

Viv would then pour herself a cup, inhaling deeply as the steam rises and the aroma fills the empty kitchen. As she takes that first sip of her perfectly brewed coffee, Viv could not help but smile. For her, starting the day than with a cup of her favourite coffee is the second best thing to start the day. The first is–

She hears the pitter patter of little feet before she sees her. 

“Mama!”

Evelyn, or Evie for short, is the best parts of you and Viv. Everyone says Evelyn is a spitting image of you—from the blonde curls that tumble down her back in unruly waves, to her vibrant hazel eyes, flecked with hints of green and gold. Evelyn has your nose, petite and slightly upturned, and dotted with the same freckles across her cheeks that Viv loves to kiss every night before bed. 

You say it’s too early to tell what kind of person your daughter will grow up to be, but you swear she’s Viv's mini me. They both have the same stubbornness (although Viv would argue you were also a contender), the same outgoing personality, and the same sheer curiosity for the world around her. Like you, your little girl is always eager to explore new places and try new things. Whether it's taking the dogs out on new hiking trails, or embarking on a family camping trip, her adventurous spirit knows no bounds.

During her ballet class, Evelyn loves to wear colourful ribbons and bows in her hair. She keeps the same ribbons in her hair during football practice too. When she laughs, her nose crinkles up in the most adorable way, just like Viv. She loves to burst into a song or hum the tune of her favourite music, just like you do. She is your pride and joy, and your greatest accomplishment in life.

But she is also a whirlwind of energy that leaves a trail of chaos and laughter in her wake wherever she goes.

Viv recognises that gleam in Evie’s eyes and the furrow in her eyebrows as she glances at the last two steps leading to the kitchen.

Her daughter was going to jump.

Viv hastily puts her cup down and lurches forward, catching the tornado that is her child. There is not a day that goes by where Viv does not thank her athleticism for being able to keep up with her little daredevil. 

She grasps her fearless little girl under her arms just before she can land the short distance to the ground. “Mama, Ducky jump!”

“I saw that, Ducky” She settles Evelyn on her hip, pressing a few kisses to her rosy cheek still warm from sleep. “But I’d rather not see that again. How many times have I told you you can’t jump from there”

“But I jump, Mama. Like a duck jumping in water!” Ducks are the little girl’s latest fixation– she loves going to the pond to watch the ducks, she loves to talk about ducks, she loves her duck stuffed animals etc. Viv thinks your daughter’s fascination with ducks was inevitable. When Evelyn was born, she was sweetly bundled in a light yellow blanket with a matching yellow beanie to warm her little head. Your private midwife briefly commented about how Evelyn little lips were constantly pursed in a pout whenever she slept, like that of a little duckling. Ever since then, “Ducky” became one of her nicknames.

Evelyn points one little chubby finger towards the kitchen counter where a plate of bite-sized waffles await her. 

“Waffles!” 

Viv snags the plate of waffles off the counter and deposits her duck-obsessed child into her booster chair. She hands her a fork and takes a seat on the chair right beside her. “Waffles yellow– like duckies, Mama!” 

Viv smiles endearingly at her daughter, all cherubic face and bouncy curls. “Just like duckies, Evie” 

——————————

Now at the press conference, you watch as Viv and Jonas take their seats in front of the press, politely saying a few greetings to some familiar faces. Viv’s eyes meet yours briefly and she offers you a quick wink. 

Jonas leans forward in his seat and starts the press. “Hello, everyone. Let’s get this started then– I’ve got Vivianne Miedema with me today”

Being married to a footballer had it’s perks– free match tickets, the cool events, club merchandise, and the occasional Adidas billboards of your wife which your daughter loves to excitedly point out every time she spots one. However, sometimes it seems not everyone understands the difference between the Viv, the mum and wife, versus Vivianne Miedema, the footballer. 

“Everyone” being your toddler. 

She still hasn’t fully grasped the fact that her Mama can’t be on her beck and call, especially while she is at work. At the age of 3, she can’t tell the difference between the football that she plays at school and the football that her Mama plays. To her, it’s exactly the same. 

After all, during her football practice if she looks to the sidelines where the other mummies and daddies are watching and yells for her Mama, her Mama will come running. In Evie’s mind, if she wants Mama, she’ll go to Mama. 

You glance down at the little girl tucked in your arms. She was all buzz and energy throughout the match, crawling from lap to lap, jumping, dancing and shouting. It was no surprise that she was starting to doze off now. You were standing off to one side of the room, leaning against the wall to support the weight resting on your front. Evie was curled up in your arms, her eyes tiredly blinking open and closed a few times. Her tiny body was limp in your arms, her breath was evening out, and just like when she first came into this world, her little rosy lips were formed into a pout.

Just like a little duckling.

But despite your soft whispers to try to and lull her to sleep, your stubborn child was determined to fight the pull of slumber. You knew she wanted to see her Mama, just as she always did after a match. It was their routine, and Evie hated breaking routines. 

“First question for Jonas…” You tune out the press for a brief moment, reaching out to adjust the yellow noise cancelling headphones that were slipping off of Evelyn’s head when all of a sudden she opens her eyes and sits up in your arms. You didn’t have to guess what had woken up your child when you hear it. “– now a question for Viv Miedema…”

What was once a sleepy and tired toddler is now gone. In it’s place is a little girl who has realised her favourite person is in the room. Her eyes were now bright and alert, craning her neck to follow the sound of her mama’s voice booming from the speakers around the room. 

“…don't really think I celebrate goals but all the girls came up to me and they were taking the mick out of me because they were like 'You were actually celebrating’–“

You should’ve anticipated it. You should’ve know it. But by then it was too late.

“Mama!” 

Your daughter yells for Viv, lurching forward with her arms open and fingers pointing towards where Viv was sitting at the front of the room. You had no choice but to crouch down so you could stead your suddenly wiggly child. 

“Ducky, that’s enough” You speak in a hushed but firm tone. You knew that if you were to use your “Mummy voice” it would likely result in tears, and your daughter was not a quiet crier. “Mama is working right now”

But Evie was very determined to get to her mama, hastily trying to tug away from your hold on her arm. You knew heads were turning towards the both of you.

“Want Mama!” 

“Evelyn–“ You try to hug her, wanting to pick her up and run out of the room before she causes anymore distractions. Right now she was the epitome of an incoming toddler tantrum. Her chest heaved with each shaky breath, her small shoulders rising and falling with the weight of her emotions. Her cheeks flushed pink with frustration, and her fists clenched at her sides. 

“No no no no!” Her favourite word as of late and she was proudly demonstrating that she knew just how to use it. "No NO!"

Her big, doe-like eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Her bottom lip quivered as she stood cocooned in your arms, but furiously squirming away from your hold. In your daughter’s mind, being told that she can’t go to her Mama right now was the most devastating thing in the world, and the injustice of it all was threatening to overwhelm her.

“–Liefje” 

You look up as the sound of your wife’s voice and the familiar nickname echos around the room through the microphone. You crane your neck and you spot her now standing up from her chair, holding the mic to her mouth. She gives you a knowing smile. Viv always knows what to do.

“I’ll take her, Liefje. Give her to me” Viv waves a hand, beckoning you both closer. 

You pick up your still teary, pouty daughter and hoist her up to your hip. You walk the short distance towards the front of the room where Viv and Jonas are waiting. 

“Looks like Mama wants you, ducky” You murmur softly in Evie’s ear, pushing the curls of hair away from her eyes. Like a switch, your daughter perks up in your arms, twisting her head towards where you were heading. You could feel her little legs kicking the air in excitement. What a mood switch. 

You stop by the side of the small stage, placing Evie on her feet and quickly grab her hairband that was in your pocket. “Wait one second, Ducky. Let’s fix your hair.” There were cameras around and you would imagine that 10 years from now, your daughter will never forgive you if you let her stand in front of the cameras with a bird nest on top of her head. 

The hairband dangled from your fingers as you attempted to tame Evie’s unruly locks into a neat ponytail. But your daughter was having none of it. She wriggled, clearly eager to get to her Mama, as she batted your hands away.

And like always, Viv knew just what to do to keep your daughter from fussing. Temporarily. “Hi Ducky”

“Mama!” Chuckles round the room when mother and daughter exchanged waves of greetings to each other as if they hadn’t seen each other for days when in reality it had only been a few hours. 

You sighed, a hint of amusement twinkling in your eyes as you gently combed through Evie’s hair with your fingers. “Almost done" you coaxed, your voice gentle and patient as you worked to wrangle your little girl’s wayward curls. You settled on just pushing the front pieces of hair away from her eyes with the hairband. “All done. Now you can go to Mama” 

Evie did not need to be told twice. 

Her little legs pumped furiously and her curly hair bounced behind her. She ran around the table, past Jonas’ chair, to where Viv was standing waiting for her. Viv swings her daughter up to her hip and you watch as Viv leans close to whisper by her ear– most likely prompting Evie to greet the journalists and cameras. Your suspicions were confirmed when your little social butterfly happily waves a hand and bellows a little “hello!”

Your smile widens when her greeting is echoed by all the journalists, some waving back just as eagerly as your toddler. 

Viv then proceeds to sit back down, placing Evie on her lap. Your wife adjusts her chair and shuffles closer to the mic. “Sorry for that everyone…” 

She gestures to the toddler who is currently conspiring with the Arsenal manager. “This one is going through a phase where I am her favourite person, and I’m making the most of it until she realises her Mummy is more fun than me” 

Laughter rings around the room, but all you give the grinning dutch at the table is an eye roll. You know Evie loves you, but her bond with Viv was something special. Evelyn is Viv’s little shadow. 

One of the journalists kindly gestures for you to take the seat next to him in front row of the table and you thank him as you take a seat. 

“Right then. Let’s continue…” Jonas starts the press again, and this time, your toddler is happily sitting on her Mama’s lap. 

———————————-

So far the press is continuing on as normal. Journalists are prepared with questions for Viv and Jonas. “My question is for Viv.” You crane your neck to see a journalists a few rows behind you hold a hand up. “You have broken countless records in England. Arsenal literally put you on a pedestal with a temporary statue outside the Emirates Stadium, a first for a female player. Do things like that matter?” Viv leans forward towards the mic. “No not at all. I’ve already had five great years but I indicated to the club that we have to do better. Other players have done that too. Hopefully the club can bring in some reinforcements this summer– 

“AH!” Evie leans up, her little head nearly clashing into her Mama’s chin if it weren’t for Viv’s reflexes, and speaks directly into the mic. She giggles when it echos back. 

You wince as the mic feedback rings loudly in the room. 

“–Ducky, this mic is not for you. Mama’s trying to answer the question” Viv whispers but it obviously gets caught by the microphone and broadcasted to the entire room. You press your lips together to conceal your giggle as you watch your wife attempt to coax your daughter into letting go of the mic stand. Unfortunately, it seems your daughter is very fixated on the microphone because she tries to grab for it again. 

But Viv is faster. She hauls Evie off her lap for a second, turning her around so she is facing Viv and not the mic. 

“Ducky turn!” Your daughter whines loudly. She is clearly displeased at being turned away from her new toy. She pouts, twisting her body back around, and points at the mic. “Ducky turn! Ducky turn!”

You never though you would say this, but maybe there are consequences in teaching your daughter how to share and take turns. 

And your wife seems to think the same. “Well…at least you all have proof that we are teaching her how to take turns properly” She chuckles endearingly at the pouty toddler on her lap. 

“Okay” Viv relents with a sigh. “Ducky gets a turn.” She lifts Evie and turns her back around so she is facing the rest of the room, the press, and her shiny new toy– the black microphone. 

You shake your head as you watch your wife visibly soften. Evie has Viv wrapped around her little finger from the day she was born. Viv is almost always unable to deny her daughter anything, even if she claims to be the more stricter parent out of the two of you. 

“Since it’s Ducky’s turn, why don’t you have a go at answering the questions then?” Viv pulls the chair closer towards the table so Evie can reach the mic more comfortably. She directs the question to everyone in the room, clearly giving the reporters permission to ask Evie some questions. 

Not a second later, a few hands are up in the air. You smile at the sight of these very professional reporters taking the time to entertain your daughter’s antics, no matter how silly they may be. 

Jonas playfully gasps and leans into his mic. “Wow Evie, look at that! So many people want to ask you questions” 

“What do you think, ducky?” Viv asks the grinning toddler in her lap. “Which question shall we take?”

Your daughter cutely scrunches her face in concentration, one chubby little finger tapping her lips as if she was contemplating the secrets of the universe. You watch as she scans her choices of eager hands, and then points to a man sitting by the front row. You watch as Evie lean up to whisper something to her Mama and then turns back around with a shy smile. 

“Evie will take a question from the man in the front row with the yellow tie” Of course, it’s the yellow tie. Anything yellow is guaranteed to win your daughter over.

“Hello Miss Evelyn. My question for you is: what did you think of your Mum scoring two goals today?”

You watch as Viv pulls the mic closer towards Evie, giving her a nod of support when your daughter turns to her for encouragement.

“Uh…” You cringe internally as your daughter presses her mouth as close to the mic as possible, practically gnawing on it, and the sound is magnified by the speakers. The press seem to take it to stride, a few coos of encouragement sounding around the room. “…I like duckies”

“Oh! That’s nice” Bless the journalist. You doubt that bit would make it to the final draft of the article. “Ducks are quite nice, aren’t they?”

Your daughter nods and hums into the mic, wriggling from her spot on your wife’s lap, clearly eager to talk more about her favourite subject. “Duckies yellow!”

You watch as the journalists couldn't help but be charmed by Evelyn’s enthusiasm, their professional demeanour melting away as they listened to your spirited little girl. Some even leaned in closer, eager to catch every word she says, the cameras capturing the moment.

“Ducks are yellow, clever girl! But let Mama have a turn now, please” You try to stifle your laughter behind your hand as Viv has to practically wrestle the mic away from Evie, grabbing both of her little hands in one of hers to settle the mischievous toddler. 

———————————————

Viv was more than happy to continue the rest of the press with her daughter in her lap, even if she has to routinely stop and grab a little hand as it beelines for the microphone. Viv lets Evie babble into the microphone a more few times and she couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in her heart. She may be a footballer on the pitch, but her greatest joy was sitting right here in her lap, eager to share in her world, one stolen microphone at a time.

“Do you want to say anything to Mummy?” Viv points you out for your daughter to see. It was already nearing the end of the press conference. "Anything to say to Mummy before we finish?”

Your daughter thinks for a moment, her face titling to the side and her nose adorably scrunching up in concentration. Thinking about what to say to your Mummy is a very big task for a 3 year old. The room goes silent as everyone waits with baited breath. 

“…I- I love you, Mummy” 

Hey, my loves!

It's been while since I posted and that's mainly due to life getting in the way + not being inspired to write. By some miracle, I somehow managed to finish writing this short little fic (featuring a different player this time– surprise!). This was inspired by seeing that cute video of Alex Morgan and her daughter doing post-match interviews lol

hopefully this will only motivate me to keep on writing.

I appreciate all of you, thanks for being patient

-- kisses, butter

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

[agentstarkid]

TENGO UN CORAZÓN QUE ESTÁ PERDIENDO LA CABEZA ✦ DR3

✦ PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ CHECKERED FLAG: 7.7K words

✦ TRACK LIMITS: yearning, angst, tenderness, fondness, found family (I guess?), 2-year-old menace, spanish and portuguese are spoken, complicated feelings, Daniel interacting with a toddler—hormones and uterus could experience feelings a lil bit (mine did ngl).

✦ MAY'S RADIO: Two chapters in less than a month? Who am I?? 🤭 All I gotta say is that Iza is my MVP because she took matters into her own (tiny) hands! It was so much fun writing her personality, I based her on my niece who's a mini tornado herself 😆 Also, a few weeks ago I made moodboards and headcanons for The Girls™, gonna leave the links below if you wanna know them even more <3. Anyways, I'm excited for this chapter!!! Hope you guys like it 💛

Part of The Joker & The Queen series | Set at the end of Revenant.

Divider by: cafekitsune

Meet: Fiorella | Vittoria | Danna

Join the community!

< previous | series masterlist | general masterlist | next >

Little traitor.

The thought repeats in your head like a mantra as you glance at the 35-inch whirlwind currently glued to Daniel’s leg. Iza’s bright giggles echo through the room, and her tiny hands clutch his shorts like he’s her favorite person in the world—which, admittedly, isn’t far from the truth. She’s always been attached to her godfather. But today? Today, she seems to be on a mission to play matchmaker in her two-year-old way, blissfully unaware of the tension crackling between her chosen victims.

Ever since your flight landed a little over four hours ago, it’s been one emotional ambush after another, all orchestrated by Miss Izabele Abigail Sousa-Allen. She decided you wouldn’t have a moment of peace during your visit, dragging you and Daniel into joint tea parties, coloring sessions, and even a very competitive game of hide-and-seek where she demanded you both hide together. 

(How could you say no to her when she looked at you with her little frown and pouty lips, tiny arms crossed demanding you to do what she wanted? It was adorable and scary at the same time—have you experienced the wrath of a 2-years-old? Definitely not recommended.)

And now, as she tugged on Daniel’s hand and yours simultaneously, her intentions became crystal clear.

“Again!” she demanded, her big brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “All three!”

Vitto, hovering nearby, let out a resigned sigh. “Iza, maybe Tia and Tio need a break—”

“No break!” she interrupted, stomping her little foot for emphasis. Like previously said, her determination was adorable and terrifying all at once. “Together!”

You catched Vitto’s apologetic glance as she scooped Iza up in her arms, trying to wrangle her away. “Bebê, let’s give them some space, okay? Maybe they need a little break to rest," Vitto said with a gentle smile, trying to redirect Iza’s enthusiasm.

Iza frowned, her little brows furrowing as she processed her mom’s words. “But they do nothing,” she said earnestly, her tone filled with the simple logic only a child could muster.

You stifled a laugh, pressing your lips together as Daniel scratched the back of his neck, clearly at a loss for words.

“Well,” Vitto tried again, shifting tactics, “grown-ups get tired faster, bebê. Why don’t you let them rest while we do something fun? Like bake your birthday cake?”

Iza’s face lit up at the mention of cake. “pinkles?” she asked, her tone suddenly bright and hopeful.

“Of course,” Andrew chimed in from the doorway, already rolling up his sleeves. “All the sprinkles you want, my little love.”

That was all it took. Iza squealed in delight, her earlier mission forgotten as she wiggled free from Vitto’s arms, her tiny feet pattering across the floor. Her and Andrew followed closely behind—with the Brazilian in the rearguard, who sent you a look over her shoulder letting you know she was sorry—leaving you and Daniel alone in the living room once again.

Where the hell was everyone else in this house? 

‘We’ll make sure it’s all smooth for you’ yeah, sure.

(A house full of traitors.)

The silence that settled felt heavy, the absence of Iza’s chatter amplifying the slight tension between you. You shifted awkwardly, biting the inner skin of your cheek, unsure whether to laugh or bolt.

“She’s persistent,” Daniel finally said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You nodded, crossing your arms in a feeble attempt to shield yourself. “She gets it from Vitto.”

“She’s also got great timing,” Daniel said with a soft chuckle.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. “She always knows how to make things… interesting.”

Daniel nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. “She’s grown a lot. It’s hard to believe she’s already two.”

“Almost two,” you corrected, glancing toward the kitchen where laughter and the clatter of mixing bowls filled the air. “Feels like just yesterday she was a tiny little human. Uh, I mean she’s still tiny but-” you rushed to clarify. (Why? the fuck if you knew. Great, if this is how the whole week is gonna turn out as then you were in for the time of your life—Take a deep breath, don’t let it get to you.) “you know what I meant.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on you now instead of the kitchen. “Time flies.”

You met his eyes briefly, but the weight of his stare was too much. You looked away, pretending to adjust a cushion on the couch. “Well, she’s definitely keeping us on our toes.”

“That’s Iza for you,” he said with a small smile, his voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place—nostalgia, maybe? Were you reading too much into it? most likely.

Before you could respond, a loud crash came from the kitchen, followed by Iza’s giggles and Andrew’s exasperated, “Iza, baby, no! Not the whole bag of sprinkles!”

You both laughed, the sound easing some of the tension between you. For a brief moment, it felt like old times—before everything got complicated. But just as quickly, reality crept back in, and the apparent unshakeable tension hung heavily in the air once more.

You cleared your throat, straightening up as if that would physically distance you from the awkwardness. “Well,” you began, your voice deliberately light, “I should probably go and take a shower before the little hurricane comes back and ropes us into another game. Or something worse.” you said quickly, glancing toward the hallway. “Anyway, I’ll see you around.” 

You turned before he could respond, hoping to escape whatever this was. His quiet laugh followed you as you reached the doorframe.

Your name was voiced and you paused, your hand resting on the doorframe. For a second, you debated pretending you didn’t hear him, but curiosity—or maybe something deeper—got the better of you. 

You turned to face him, your expression carefully neutral. “Yeah?”

He hesitated, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for the right words, his usual confidence replaced with something more. “I just… I’m glad you’re here.”

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. Finally, you managed a small smile. “Me too,” you said softly, though whether it was entirely true, you weren’t sure.

As you walked down the hall, the distant sound of Iza’s giggles were a welcome distraction. But no matter how hard you tried to focus on anything else, the weight of those four words followed you, their meaning tugging at a part of you you weren’t ready to face yet.

You wandered through the halls of the mediterranean-style house fresh out of the shower, focused on typing frantically in the groupchat, when the hallway ended abruptly—well, not ended, more like it got obstructed making you drop your phone in the process.

“Sorry, sorry,” you heard followed by a chuckle, “didn’t see ya.”

You looked up to the talking wall just to find a radiant smile and crinkled eyes staring back at you. “Oh, no, no, it was my fault,” you rushed to say, bending down to pick up the phone, “should’ve paid more attention.” 

For a moment, you didn’t move—your eyes locked on the inked skin that entered your sight as he reached for the mobile, too. The number 3 on his pinkie, the treble clef on his wrist, and the veins running down his hand, tracing a path up his forearm and disappearing beneath the sleeve of his shirt. It was stupid how familiar they were, how easily they could pull you back into memories you weren’t ready to relive.

(or that you shouldn’t relive, for that matter.)

Daniel noticed. Of course, he did.

When you lifted your eyes and met his stare fixed already on you, you could feel the warmth creeping up your neck to your face. But instead of a cocky grin, as you expected, his expression softened, and for a moment his eyes roamed your face as if he was studying and memorizing it before he cleared his throat.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter than before, almost hesitant.

You blinked, forcing yourself out of whatever moment you had just fallen into. “Yeah,” you said quickly, gripping your phone a little tighter. “Just… distracted.”

He nodded, not pushing, though his eyes lingered on you for a second longer. “Guess I should’ve been watching where I was going too,” he admitted, stepping back to give you space. “Didn’t mean to, you know—” he gestured vaguely toward where you had collided “—block your way.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him, brushing a hand through your damp hair. “this your room?” you pointed to the door he just came out of. (Geez, why would you even ask him that?.)

“Huh? oh.” he chuckled softly, a hand absentmindedly rubbing his neck. “Yeah, yeah. It’s uh- It’s been my unofficial room since they moved here”

“Oh, nice.” you nodded, and an awkward silence fell over the two. Why was it so awkward to have a conversation when a month ago at the wedding you guys got to have a normal one?—admittedly it wasn’t a walk in the park, but it wasn’t as painfully awkward as now.  “Well, I should go find Fio and Danna, see what they’re up to. Apparently, they were checking out the new fruit stand on the next block,” you added, playfully rolling your eyes.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, “Yeah. They've been out for a while. Probably causing trouble. Bet Danna’s already made friends with the owner.”

“Probably,” you agreed with a smirk. “And Fio’s probably negotiating the price of fruits like it’s a business deal.”

Daniel’s lips twitched into a fond smile. “Some things never change.”

You nodded back, offering a quick smile before you both turned the corner, your heart drumming a little too loudly in your chest.

Damn it.

Neither of you said anything as you made your way toward the living room, where the little hurricane stood in front of the TV, mesmerized by a colorful kid’s show about a farmer and his animals. Andrew was sprawled out on the sofa, lazily typing on his phone, and from the kitchen, bursts of feminine laughter spilled into the space.

At the sound of your footsteps, Andy looked up, his eyes flickering between you and Daniel in a quick, almost imperceptible movement. Then, as if deciding not to comment, he simply nodded toward the kitchen. “Girls are in there,” he said.

You didn’t need to be told twice. “Thanks,” you muttered, seizing the chance to slip away while Daniel moved to take a seat next to him.

Iza, still planted in front of the TV, was now dressed in pink pajamas, her hair styled into two tiny space buns, and—most curiously—a backpack with a cute cow face strapped onto her shoulders.

(Apparently, she had decided, out of the blue, that pajamas were the outfit of choice for the evening.) 

Daniel leaned back against the couch, a small, amused smile playing on his lips as he took in Iza’s new look. “Nice fit, princess,” he mused, watching as she clutched absentmindedly the straps of her tiny backpack with little hands.

Iza, without turning away from the TV, rocked back and forth on her heels to the rhythm of the kid’s song before finally glancing over at them. “Pajamas,” she stated matter-of-factly, as if that alone explained everything.

Andrew snorted, setting his phone down. “She threw a whole speech about why she needed to wear them now. Something about the cow backpack and how they match.”

Daniel hummed, nodding solemnly. “Well, can’t argue with that logic.”

Iza gave him a satisfied look before shifting her attention fully to them. Her big brown eyes flickered between the two men, her little mind clearly working through something. Then, with all the dramatic energy a nearly-two-year-old could muster, she clapped her hands together and ran, throwing her little body face down over the space between them. “Okay.”

Daniel and Andrew exchanged a glance. “Okay… what, baby?” Andy asked warily, rubbing her back.

She pointed at them, then at the TV. “You watch Bluey now.”

Daniel chuckled, raising a brow at Andrew. “Guess we don’t have a choice.”

Andrew sighed, rubbing his face. “Nope. None at all.”

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, you leaned against the counter, watching as Fio animatedly recounted their fruit stand adventure with Danna to Vitto.

“—and then I told the guy, ‘No way you’re selling those mangoes for that price.’ I mean, I respect a hustle, but come on. You can get better and bigger ones for half that back home in PR,” Fio huffed, shaking her head as she dramatically recounted the story.

Danna shook her head, laughing. “You’re actually insufferable.”

“You’re welcome,” Fio shot back with a grin before noticing you. “Ah, there she is. Survived your little playdate?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Barely.”

Vitto, ever observant, arched a brow. “Daniel still being… Daniel?”

You hesitated, not really sure how to answer that. “He’s… I don’t know. He’s different. But also, not? It’s weird.”

Fio furrowed her brows and narrowed her eyes. “Weird how?”

“Chill, Rambo, no need to kill anyone.” A short, humored laugh escaped you as you sat on one of the counter stools. You exhaled, crossing your arms. “Like… he’s trying. But not in a way that makes it obvious. It’s subtle, like he wants to be careful.”

Danna raised an eyebrow. “Careful because of you or careful because of Rúben?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? You weren’t sure you had the answer.

The weight of Danna’s question settled between you all, unspoken yet heavy. You busied yourself by reaching for a slice of mango from the bowl on the counter, chewing thoughtfully.

“I don’t know,” you admitted finally, voice quieter. “Maybe both.”

Fio watched you closely, then sighed. “That man still loves you.”

You shot her a look. “Fio—”

“What? I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.” She gestured vaguely around the kitchen, earning a few exchanged glances from Vitto and Danna. “You’re over here acting like it’s some great mystery when it’s not.”

Danna, ever the voice of reason, leaned on the counter. “Okay, but does it even matter? He had his chance. And you moved on.”

Moved on. Right.

You nodded, as if agreeing, but something about those words settled uncomfortably in your chest.

Vitto, sensing the shift in your mood, quickly changed the subject. “Alright, enough about that. Let’s talk about something that doesn’t involve a walking emotional landmine.” She smirked. “Like what we’re doing for Iza’s birthday.”

Grateful for the out, you straightened. “Please tell me we’re not doing another ‘Iza commands us all’ day like the last Día de los Niños.”

Danna groaned. “God, no. I’m still recovering from the endless rounds of hide and seek.”

Fio grinned. “Joke’s on you, I actually enjoyed that.”

Laughter filled the kitchen as the conversation shifted to party planning, decorations, and the ridiculous number of snacks Iza had requested. For a moment, the tension from earlier faded into the background.

But even as you laughed along, the thought lingered in your mind—Daniel was being careful. With you. With himself. With whatever was left between you.

And you weren’t sure if that was better or worse.

Suddenly, the sound of tiny, determined footsteps filled the kitchen, and in the next second, Iza came barreling in, running straight to Vitto’s legs. She clung to her mother, her little arms wrapping around as much as she could reach.

“Mamãe, uppie!” she demanded, bouncing on her toes and her little arms reaching towards her.

Vitto chuckled, effortlessly scooping her up. “You’re getting too big, meu amor,” she teased, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek.

Iza, completely ignoring the comment, turned her attention to the counter, where the bowl of mangoes sat. She stretched her tiny arms toward it, fingers wiggling with determination. “Quero!”

“What do we say when we want something, Izabele?” Vitto pulled her away from the counter, giving her the mom look.

“Pweeeeeeeease” she said, tilting her head with doe eyes and a big, innocent smile.

Danna, being the closest, plucked a slice from the bowl and held it out. “Here you go, honey.”

Iza’s eyes lit up, “Fank yoo!” She eagerly grabbed the mango, taking a big bite. Juice instantly dribbled down her chin, but she was too busy enjoying the fruit to care.

Vitto shook her head fondly, grabbing a napkin to dab at her daughter’s face. “Ai, Iza…”

Fio watched the scene with amusement before nudging Iza’s little foot. “Alright, troublemaker, what’s the plan for your big day? What does the birthday girl want to do?”

Iza, still chewing, blinked at them before swallowing dramatically. She then grinned, her excitement bubbling over. “O aquário!”

Danna and Fio exchanged a look, while you looked at the little hurricane fondly.

“The aquarium?” Vitto clarified, adjusting Iza on her hip.

Iza nodded enthusiastically. “Sim! Fishies!”

Fio smirked, leaning toward you. “Guess we’re hanging out with fish.”

You laughed softly, brushing a few stray curls from Iza’s forehead. “Better than another hide-and-seek marathon.” Then, tilting your head at the little girl's mom, you added, “By the way, her bilingual skills are getting really good. At this rate, I think she expresses herself better in Portuguese than in English.”

Vitto let out a laugh, bouncing Iza lightly in her arms. “She might, yeah.” A mischievous glint flickered in her eyes. “I may or may not encourage her to speak more Portuguese when Andy isn’t around.”

Fio gasped dramatically. “You’re sabotaging your own baby daddy?”

Danna smirked. “No wonder she sounds like a tiny Brazilian grandma sometimes.”

Vitto shrugged, unbothered. “It’s funny. Especially when she talks to him in full Portuguese, and he just stares at her like she’s casting a spell.”

You burst out laughing at the mental image. “Please tell me you have videos.”

Vitto smirked. “Obviously.”

Just then, Iza pointed a tiny finger at her mom’s face. “Mamãe, peixe!” she demanded, reminding them of her plans.

Vitto sighed dramatically, adjusting Iza on her hip. “Alright, xuxú, how about this—we go to the aquarium after your birthday party? That way, we have the whole day to see all the fish. Sound good?”

Iza blinked, processing the deal.

“In the meantime,” Vitto continued smoothly, “we can go on a little adventure today.”

Iza’s interest visibly piqued, her tiny eyebrows raising. “’Ventura?”

“Yes, an adventure!” Vitto nodded, playing into the excitement. “We need to go to the market and find all the special ingredients for Mamãe’s coxinhas. And maybe… just maybe… there are some big, juicy mangoes waiting for you there.”

At the mention of mangoes, Iza lit up like a firework. “Manga?!”

You exchanged a knowing look with Fio and Danna. The kid was officially sold.

“Yes, manga,” Vitto confirmed, grinning. “But first, you need to go change out of your pajamas, okay?”

Before Vitto could even set her down, Iza was already wiggling to be put on the floor. The moment her feet touched the ground, she bolted out of the kitchen. “Papai! Unkie Nanel! ’Ventura!”

You all watched her disappear, her little voice echoing down the hall.

Vitto shook her head with a soft chuckle. “They better not put her in something ridiculous.”

“Oh, they absolutely will,” Danna deadpanned.

A few minutes later, Iza came sprinting back into the kitchen—now fully dressed head to toe in custom-made Enchanté apparel, a tiny washed-red cap, a crisp white shirt, and green shorts that gave her the appearance of a little explorer. Her curls peeked out from under the cap, her big eyes shining with excitement as she spread her arms wide, striking a dramatic pose.

And you couldn't lie—she looked adorable.

“I be Unkie Nanel!” She declared proudly.

And right behind her, sauntering in with the most shit-eating grin you’d ever seen, was Daniel. His hands were tucked into his pockets, and he was watching Iza with a fondness that made something shift in your chest.

“Oh my God,” Fio wheezed. “You turned her into a walking billboard.”

Daniel, utterly unbothered, crouched down next to Iza and tapped her tiny cap. “Gotta start ‘em young,” he said with a smirk.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “You look way cooler than Uncle Daniel, bubba.”

Daniel placed a dramatic hand on his chest, feigning offense. “Excuse me, Iza, are you just gonna let her disrespect us like that?”

Iza giggled and grabbed his hand, squeezing it in reassurance as if she actually understood the teasing.

You should’ve looked away, walked off, said something sarcastic to break the moment. But you didn’t.

Instead, your gaze lingered.

Watching him with her—how effortlessly he fit into this role, how natural it was for him to give Iza his full attention, how she adored him in return—made something ache deep inside you.

You hated it.

(And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t.)

Andrew, who had been observing the whole scene from the counter where he was slicing some fruit, finally spoke up.

“She does look cooler than you, mate,” he teased Daniel with a smirk, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth. “Might have to start calling her ‘Little Nanel’ from now on.”

Iza gasped excitedly. “Litto Nanel!” she repeated, absolutely thrilled with the new nickname.

Daniel shot Andrew a playful glare. “Thanks for that, Andy. Really appreciate it.”

Andrew shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. “Just saying, man, she pulls off the look better than you ever did.”

Before Daniel could retaliate, Danna, who had been watching the interaction with a knowing smile, suddenly perked up. “Wait, where’s Blake? He’s usually attached to your hip like an overgrown koala.”

Daniel chuckled, shaking his head. “He had a stopover in Miami to visit a friend. His flight got delayed, so he’s getting here later today.”

Fio let out a dramatic sigh. “So, what I’m hearing is that we won’t have our favorite Aussie for the first half of the day? Tragic.”

Daniel scoffed, playing along. “Wow. Love the support, guys.”

Andrew patted his shoulder. “You know you’re only third favorite, right?”

Daniel rolled his eyes, but there was a warmth to his smile that made it hard to tease him too much. “Wait. Who’s the second?” he tilted his head and frowned.

“Scotty.” was answered in unison.

Daniel let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. Betrayed by my own people.”

Andrew smirked. “Hey, man, Scotty’s just got that wholesome golden retriever energy. And he can do some cool tricks in the snow. Hard to compete.”

Fio nodded. “Yeah, and you? You’re more like…” she trailed off, pretending to think.

“A chaotic raccoon,” Danna finished with a grin.

Daniel gasped, placing a hand over his heart. “A raccoon? I’m the Honey Badger.”

Fio snorted. “Nah, you’re definitely more raccoon-coded.”

As they continued to joke around, you tried to distract yourself from the way your stomach flipped watching Daniel interact with your people once again—specially the toddler.

Vitto sighed with a fond smile on her face, pressing a kiss to Iza’s forehead. “Alright, Unkie Nanel Jr., let’s go get those mangoes.” She turned back to you all. “C’mon everybody, let’s get moving before this one decides she’s in charge of the whole itinerary.”

“She already is,” Danna muttered, grabbing her drink.

“Facts,” Fio agreed, grabbing her keys.

He had always been good with kids—that was nothing new. But something about seeing him with Iza, the way he knelt down when she tugged at his shorts, how he patiently listened when she babbled about some cartoon you didn’t recognize, the way he let her climb onto his lap without hesitation—it made conflicting feelings bloom in your chest.

And it was messing with you.

You shook your head, trying to focus on something else. Anything else.

The morning was spent wandering around Ojai, stopping by vibrant farmer’s markets where stalls overflowed with fresh produce, handcrafted trinkets, and the scent of sizzling food. Iza sat happily on Andrew’s shoulders, pointing at different fruits and flowers, her tiny fingers reaching out excitedly every time she spotted something new. She made sure everyone took turns holding her hand as they walked, but most often, she sought out you and Daniel.

When you decided that the park was the next destination, the little hurricane was unstoppable. She ran from one end to the other, determined to get every single one of you involved in her games. It started with a simple game of tag, where she would giggle uncontrollably as Andrew pretended to be a big scary monster chasing after her, only to collapse dramatically whenever she tagged him back.

But the moment she spotted a couple of older kids being swung between their parents’ hands, her attention shifted entirely. She ran straight to you and Daniel, grabbing each of your hands in hers.

“I go high! Up, up!” she demanded, bouncing on her toes.

Daniel chuckled, exchanging a glance with you. “You ready for this?”

You exhaled, forcing a small smile. “Let’s do it.”

And so, with a countdown, the two of you lifted her off the ground, swinging her between you as she shrieked with joy. Again and again, she begged for “Mo’ mo’ mo’, pwease!,” her little legs kicking in the air each time she went up.

Fio snapped a picture at one point, sending you a knowing look that you chose to ignore.

Between the laughter, the bright sun, and the easy moments, it almost felt like nothing had changed. Like things weren’t complicated.

Almost.

But reality had a way of creeping in, no matter how much you tried to push it back.

As the morning stretched into the early afternoon, the group found themselves sprawled out on the grass, taking a much-needed break from Iza’s endless energy. She sat cross-legged in the middle, happily munching on a piece of mango Vitto had bought from the market.

Andrew was leaning back on his elbows, sunglasses on, looking every bit like a dad on his day off. “I swear, I don’t know where she gets this energy from. It’s like she recharges by the second.”

“She’s literally your child,” Danna pointed out, sipping from her Iced Matcha Latte.

Vitto snorted. “No, she’s my child. That’s why she’s like this.”

Daniel, who was lying on his side next to Iza, propped himself up on an elbow. “I dunno, she might just be an evolution of both of you. Maximum chaos unlocked.”

Danna hummed, tilting her head as she watched Iza try to feed her uncle what was left of her slice, and Daniel pretended to eat her hand making her squeal and giggle. “You know, if she’s maximum chaos, I can’t even imagine what your kids would be like, Danny.”

That got everyone’s attention.

Andrew snorted. “Oh man. They’d be little menaces. Just picture a tiny Ricciardo running around, making dumb jokes, riding dirt bikes, getting into trouble, grinning through it all.”

Daniel let out a laugh, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The moment the word kids left Danna’s mouth, his gaze flickered—almost instinctively—to you.

It was quick, but you caught it.

Because how could you not?

You swallowed and forced a chuckle, keeping your expression neutral as you turned your attention back to Iza, who was now attempting to balance a mango slice on her nose. “Lord have mercy on their mom,” you said with a dramatic sigh, shaking your head.

Daniel let out a breathy laugh, but there was something behind it—something wistful. “Yeah?” he shot back, tilting his head at you. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, trying to guess which way this was going to go.  “Guess she’d have to be someone really special to handle all that chaos.”

His words were playful, but the weight behind them was impossible to ignore. There was something charged in the way he said it—like he wasn’t just talking about some hypothetical her. Like maybe, just maybe, he still pictured you in that role.

Your grip tightened slightly on your cup of fresh juice, but before you could find a response, Fio cut in with a teasing grin. “Special or completely insane.”

The group laughed, the moment breaking, but the way Daniel was still looking at you—like he was thinking of all the things left unsaid—lingered.

A bitter feeling bloomed in your chest before you could stop it. You didn’t even mean for it to happen, but the name was already forming in your mind.

You hated that it still got to you. That, even after all this time, it could still stir something ugly in the pit of your stomach. You had no right to feel this way, not when you were with someone else—not when you were supposed to have moved on.

You should have let the moment go but the words left your lips before you could think twice. “Poor Heidi.”

Daniel didn’t react right away. He just looked at you, a flicker of something crossing his face—understanding, maybe. Amusement. Or maybe it was just all in your head.

Then he smiled, small and almost... resigned. “Not really.”

You blinked, taken aback.

“She, uh—” He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “We broke up.”

Your stomach flipped.

“Oh,” was all you could manage.

Silence.

The kind that stretched too long, felt too loud despite the lack of words.

You felt it the second the shift happened, a wave rolling through the group as everyone collectively processed what he had just said.

Daniel and Heidi were over.

(You tried to suppress the blooming feeling of elation at the news.) 

Everyone knew what that would've meant before. Before everything changed. Before Rúben.

You didn’t look at anyone, but you felt the weight of their stares. Danna, Fio, Vitto—your best friends—all processing the same realization, all probably having the same conflicting thoughts, all silently worrying about you.

You kept your expression carefully neutral, forcing a small shrug. “Sorry.”

Daniel just hummed in response.

And yet, in the heavy silence that followed, you could hear everything neither of you dared to say.

You exhaled, focusing on Iza instead. The little girl, who was still buzzing with excitement, had stood up, and was a few paces away from the group twirling in circles before dramatically collapsing onto the ground with a giggle.

Daniel stretched out next to you now that the toddler wasn't occupying the place in between you both, propping himself up on his elbows as well. There was still something unreadable in his demeanor, like his thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

Fio, never one to let things go unsaid for too long, gave Daniel a sideways glance. “And what about you?” she asked casually, but there was something deliberate in the way she posed the question. “Now that you’re single again, what’s next?”

Your stomach twisted.

Daniel, to his credit, didn’t seem caught off guard. Instead, he exhaled a soft laugh, his eyes flickering over to you for a fraction of a second before settling back on the sky. “Don’t know,” he admitted, voice easy but thoughtful. “Taking my time, I guess.”

Vitto nudged him with her foot. “Taking your time? Since when do you take your time with things?”

Another soft chuckle. “Since now,” he replied, gaze still focused on the clouds drifting above. Then, almost absentmindedly, “Some things are worth waiting for.”

The weight of those words settled over you like a storm cloud, dark and full of unspoken meaning.

You swallowed, feeling Fio’s and Danna’s subtle but pointed glances.

Desperate for an out, you sat up and dusted your hands on your jean shorts. “Alright, break’s over,” you announced, your voice forced-cheerful. “Who’s ready to get Iza home before she finds another way to make us run after her?”

“She’s going to be knocked out after this,” Andrew muttered, adjusting his cap over his eyes, “Which, honestly? Won't be the worst thing.”

The group slowly followed your lead, rising to their feet, the conversation left hanging in the air like an unfinished sentence.

Daniel stood last, brushing stray grass from his shorts. His eyes met yours for the briefest moment—warm, unreadable, patient.

And just like that, you had the overwhelming feeling that this wasn’t the end of it.

Not even close.

As the group started walking, Fio fell into step beside you, bumping her shoulder against yours.

“Todo bien?” she asked, voice low.

You hesitated before giving her a short nod. “Síp.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Uh-huh. Sure.” Her eyes flickered toward Daniel—who was holding the toddler across his arms pretending she was a plane, her bright giggles making you look at them fondly—then back to you. “Just… ten cuidado, okay?”

You knew what she meant, and the worst part was, you didn’t have an answer.

The house was buzzing with a different kind of energy now that Blake had arrived, his laughter blending into the easy hum of conversation. The sun was starting to dip below the trees, casting the living room in golden light as everyone settled in after our long day out.

You were sitting cross-legged on the couch, nursing a glass of iced coffee as you half-listened to Andrew and Blake trading stories. Sitting on a loveseat across the table, Fio had her eyes on you, sharp and knowing, waiting for the right moment to strike. She’d seen how you had been expertly avoiding Daniel all afternoon, your movements purposefully, your gaze never lingering too long in his direction. 

But she knew you. She knew you well enough to quickly recognize when something was brewing beneath the surface.

So the moment she was waiting for to strike came when Daniel entered the room, towel slung over his shoulder from a post-run shower, his damp curls sticking to his forehead. He glanced her way briefly, offering a small nod before moving toward the men on the right side of the L-shaped sectional couch. 

As soon as you noticed your ex in the room, your shoulders tensed and you quickly grabbed your phone to pretend to be interested in whatever gossip was trending on Twitter. And that was all it took for Fio to make her move.

“Acompáñame,” Fio muttered, grabbing your arm and dragging you up from the couch before you could protest. Vitto, who was leaving the kitchen just on time to witness the whole moment, followed closely behind, recognizing the brewing intervention. You barely made it to the hallway before Fio turned on you with a look that could burn holes through steel.

“Mami, what the hell is going on?” she demanded, crossing her arms.

You feigned innocence, which only made Fio roll her eyes. “Nada, Fio. Why?”

“Oh, don’t even start with that bullshit,” Fio shot back. “You’ve been weird ever since we came back. And don’t think I didn’t see the way you tensed up when lo pendejo de Daniel walked in just now.”

“Fio,” Vitto interjected, her tone softer but no less firm. “We just want to know how you’re feeling.”

You exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down your face. You knew this moment was inevitable, but you weren't ready to unpack it. Not yet.

“I’m fine,” you said, too quickly.

Fio let out a sharp laugh. “Liar. Try again.”

Vitto nudged your shoulder gently. “You’ve been avoiding him all day, even when he’s been trying to be... I don’t know, civil? Different?”

Different. That was exactly it. Daniel was different. More patient, more thoughtful. He still had that stupid, easygoing charm, but there was something else beneath it now—something more deliberate. And it made everything ten times harder.

You groaned, leaning against the wall. “It’s just—he’s here, freshly single apparently. And it’s messing with my head, okay?”

Fio softened just a fraction, but her stance was unwavering. “Be honest—do you still love him?”

The question hit you like a freight train, your breath catching in your throat.

Vitto reached for your hand. “It’s okay if you do, fofinha. We just want you to be honest with yourself.”

You swallowed hard, looking down at your linked hands. You could feel the truth clawing at your chest, but admitting it out loud felt too dangerous. Too real. So instead, you whispered, “I love Rúben.”

Neither of them doubted that you did. But love wasn’t simple, and you all knew it.

Fio sighed, rubbing her temples. “Mira, all I’m saying is—if this is hurting you, you need to face it. You can’t keep pushing it down.”

You closed your eyes, exhaling slowly. “I know.”

Vitto squeezed your hand before stepping back. “Come on, let’s get back before they start thinking we killed you or something.”

You let out a tired chuckle.

You three made your way back, and you couldn’t shake the weight in your chest. Because for the first time in a long time, you weren't sure if you could keep running from this.

As you stepped back into the living room, the warmth of conversation and soft laughter wrapped around you like a protective shield. Blake was animatedly recounting some ridiculous story, his hands moving in exaggerated gestures while Andrew cackled beside him. The scene was so effortlessly lighthearted that, for a brief moment, you almost let yourself slip back into the comfort of it.

Almost.

Daniel was still there.

Still real.

Still encompassing all your senses.

But before you could settle back into your spot on the couch, Vitto’s hand closed gently around your wrist. “Wanna help me finish dinner?,” she asked, her voice light, but you knew her well enough to recognize the intention behind it.

She was giving you an out. A way to escape the tension still lingering in the air.

You nodded quickly, too relieved to question it. “Sure.”

Fio gave you a knowing look but didn’t go with you as you followed Vitto into the kitchen. The warmth of the living room buzzed behind you, but as soon as you stepped into the quieter space, you let out a slow breath.

Vitto had already started making Coxinhas earlier, the smell of seasoned chicken filling the kitchen. She rolled up her sleeves and handed you a piece of dough without saying anything at first, letting the act of cooking settle you.

You worked in silence for a few minutes, shaping the dough into small teardrop shapes while Vitto did the same beside you. The rhythmic motion was soothing, giving your hands something to do while your thoughts settled.

Then, finally, she spoke.

“You okay?”

You sighed, focusing on the dough in your hands. “I don’t know.”

Vitto hummed in understanding. “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

You didn’t have to ask what she meant. “Yeah.”

She set a finished Coxinha onto the tray and turned to you, her expression softer than it had been earlier. “I know today’s been a lot. And I know spending time with him again after everything is… complicated.”

You swallowed hard. “It’s not just that. He’s different.”

Vitto nodded, as if she had noticed it too. “People change.”

“But does it matter?” You met her eyes, your own filled with uncertainty. “Even if he’s changed, it doesn’t erase what happened. It doesn’t change how much it hurt.”

Vitto placed a gentle hand on your arm. “No, it doesn’t. And no one is saying you have to forgive him or even let him back in. But, fofinha, you don’t have to carry all of this alone.”

You exhaled shakily, your fingers tightening around the dough. “I don’t know how to stop.”

Vitto gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. “Remember: One step at a time.”

The words brought back a memory from a night that seemed a lifetime ago, in this same house, but under different circumstances. “You’re strong,” she had whispered as she rocked you gently, as the heart-shattering sobs began anew. “Stronger than you know. You’ll get through this, one step at a time. You have us, and we’re not going anywhere.”

For a moment, you let yourself lean into her words, into the quiet comfort of her presence. The noise from the living room felt distant, like something happening in another world.

And for the first time all day, you felt like you could breathe again.

Vitto suddenly perked up. “You know what we need? Some music.” She didn’t wait for your answer before speaking again. “Alexa play ‘Caraluna’ by Bacilos”

The robotic voice answered back and the unmistakable opening chords of one of your favorite songs filled the kitchen. One she knew put you in a good mood. A grin spread across her face as she turned to you, already swaying to the beat.

¿Quién dice que no duelen las huellas en la arena?

Tu huella el mar se la llevó, pero la luna sigue ahí.

Pero esa luna es mi condena.

(You couldn't help but internally chuckle at the irony of the song’s lyrics and your current predicament.)

“You have to dance with me,” she insisted, holding out her hands. “Come on, you know you want to.”

You groaned, but a small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “Vitto…”

“No excuses!” she cut in, grabbing your hands and pulling you toward her. “Let loose, fofinha!”

And against all odds, you did.

Laughter bubbled up as she spun you, her energy infectious. The rhythm took over, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the knot in your chest loosened. You sang along, carefree, as the warmth of the moment wrapped around you like a long-forgotten embrace.

Yo seguiré buscando o seguiré escapando

Tal vez de ti, tal vez de mí

Before you knew it, the kitchen had turned into a makeshift dance floor, the scent of freshly made coxinhas mixing with the warm nostalgia of song after song.

And then, as if called by the rhythm—because it was in her blood, after all—Iza came toddling into the kitchen. Just woken up from her afternoon nap, her curly hair bounced as she moved, her big brown eyes lighting up at the sight of you and her mother dancing.

“Titi! Mamãe!” she squealed, her tiny feet already moving to the beat in her adorable, uncoordinated way. She wiggled her hips, her little arms waving in the air as she giggled.

Vitto gasped dramatically. “Look at her go! We have a future bailarina in the house!”

You laughed, reaching for Iza’s hands to twirl her around, her delighted laughter filling the room. You had spent months in this house after your breakup, healing, learning to breathe again, and in those months, you and Vitto had passed down a piece of your own childhood to Iza.

Disney Channel songs had been the soundtrack of your teenage years,—Camp Rock, High School Musical, Cheetah Girls, you name it—and now they were becoming hers. She knew them all by heart, but her ultimate favorite? Hoedown Throwdown by Hannah Montana.

So it was no surprise when, as soon as the last notes of ‘Batida de Coco’ played, she gasped dramatically and clapped her hands. “Hodan Trowdawn!” she demanded, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Vitto smirked. “You heard Boss Baby.”

You sighed, already knowing there was no getting out of this one. “Alexa, play Hoedown Throwdown by Miley Cyrus.”

The second the upbeat intro started, Iza shrieked in excitement, already trying (and failing) to follow the choreography you and Vitto had taught her. You joined in, going through the familiar moves, laughing when Iza tried to stomp her tiny foot with exaggerated determination.

What you didn’t notice, however, was that the ruckus had drawn the attention of the others.

One by one, the voices from the living room started trickling into the kitchen. First Andrew, then Blake, then Fio and Danna, all grinning at the sight of you, Vitto, and Iza in the middle of a full-on Hoedown Throwdown performance.

And then, leaning against the doorway, towel still draped over his shoulder from his earlier shower, stood Daniel.

But he wasn’t just watching the dance—he was watching you.

There was something different in his gaze, something softer, something more intense. He watched as you twirled Iza around, your laughter blending with hers in a way that made his chest tighten. He had always known you were good with kids, but seeing you like this—with Iza, with your guard completely down, with that effortless, nurturing ease—it did something to him.

Something dangerous.

But you were too busy living in the moment to notice.

Fio and Danna wasted no time jumping in.

“This is our moment,” Fio announced dramatically, flipping her hair as she slid into position before the song went back to the chorus.

Danna laughed. “You mean, this is Titi and Mamãe’s moment, and we’re just background dancers.”

But still, the second the chorus hit, the four of you fell into sync like it was second nature. Muscle memory kicked in, and suddenly, it was like you were back in your childhood bedrooms, practicing in front of TVs, convinced you’d someday perform this choreography on a real stage.

Iza squealed in delight, trying her best to keep up, even though her little feet didn’t quite move the way she wanted them to. But she had the spirit, and that was all that mattered.

Andrew leaned against the fridge, arms crossed, shaking his head with amusement. Blake had his phone out, definitely recording what was happening. And somewhere in the back, laughing along with them, was Daniel.

And yet, his gaze kept coming back to you.

Something about this scene—it was overwhelming in the best way. Nostalgic. Warm. Effortless. You were so yourself in this moment, dancing like no one was watching, letting Iza twirl between you and Fio, her giggles filling the air like music.

You were happy.

And it hit him, all at once.

God, he had missed this. He had missed you.

He barely registered when the song ended, when the room erupted into applause and Iza immediately yelled, “Again! Again!”

You caught your breath, shaking your head with a laugh. “Iza, amor, your Tías need a break, or we won’t survive dinner.”

Fio wiped imaginary sweat from her forehead. “Yeah, I don’t have the stamina I had at 14, mi amor.”

Vitto chuckled, scooping Iza into her arms. “Okay, bailarina, let’s give them a minute.”

As the moment settled, the energy in the room slowly shifted, you finally looked up—only to find Daniel watching you.

And unlike before, when you had done your best to avoid his eyes, this time… you held his gaze.

And your lips turned up into a soft smile.

[frvnkcastles]

hey i hope ur okay❤️ can you do Frank x Reader where she has an alcoholic and abusive father who has been in prison for two years and one day he is released and shows up at her house and she is very scared so Frank protects and comforts her

FIND MY PEACE OF MIND ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: When your abusive father turns up on your doorstep, Frank takes care of it.

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse (not specified), alcoholism, hurt/comfort, feminine nicknames

Word count: 1.7k

Author’s note: I know what it’s like to have alcoholism in the family (parents especially) and how dire the consequences of it can be, so you have my absolute sympathy, anon! I’m sending you so much love, and I hope you’re doing alright <3 I added a little detail of Frank offering to make it a completely alcohol-free home because that’s something I’ve thought about a lot, I personally don’t drink at all because of my family and I don’t think I’d be able to share a space with someone who drinks regularly. We see Frank drink occasionally on the show but I don’t think it’s ever implied he has a problem? So I 100% feel like he’d give it up if you asked. Anyway, I hope you enjoy :)

Upon meeting Frank for the first time and subsequently learning he had been in prison, you were understandably sceptical about getting involved with him. You already had a man in your life who had deep-seated anger and hatred within him, manifesting in violent tendencies, and that had scarred you for life. So, you hesitated, and he had immediately seen the doubt and even fear on your face, and although he couldn’t explain why he wanted your approval so badly, he did.

”Hey, if you don’t wanna see me again, I ain’t gonna hold it against you. But you, uh… maybe you should read about me first. Judge for yourself”, he had suggested before parting ways with you, and you had promised to do just that. You had a napkin with his phone number scribbled on it, and against your first instinct, you didn’t throw it away. His words stuck with you, and when you got home that night, you searched up his name and were smacked in the face with a flood of news articles about him.

Most of them were negative, and you had quickly questioned why he would encourage you to read them. Journalists hadn’t hesitated to write horrendous things about him, but they had also dug up his past and spread it all over the internet for everyone to learn about. And it was those tidbits that soon opened your eyes to the enigma that was Frank Castle. He wasn’t a senseless killer and he wasn’t an abuser or a tormentor of innocent people — he was seeking justice for his brutally gunned down family and cleaning up the streets from evil.

You had been wary because of your past with your father, but the more you read about Frank, the easier it became to see that he was nothing like him. In fact, your father was a man who would sicken Frank, a man that Frank wouldn’t think twice about hurting, and that realization welcomed an odd feeling of safety into your heart.

You called Frank the next day, and it was the beginning of him always hanging around you. Before you knew it, your life had turned from bleak loneliness and anxiety about your father’s eventual return to endless kisses, late-night dates on the rooftop of your apartment building and sitting on your boyfriend’s lap while icing the newest bruise on the corner of his eyes. He was a whirlwind but in the best way, and you found yourself completely enamored with him.

He felt the same way, certainly not having expected falling in love with someone, and especially as hard as he had with you. He had tried so hard to stay guarded and deny himself the truth, but it had been impossible to resist you, and so, inevitably, he let his heart be in the driver’s seat for a change and admitted to himself that he adored you.

With your new relationship came opening up to each other about everything you had been through. You had already learned so much about Frank on the news that it felt like an invasion of his privacy, so you had asked him to tell you in his own words when he was ready, and in return, he was all ears when you shared the story about your father and his issues with alcohol. Frank had been more than understanding, immediately insisting that cutting out drinking entirely was something he was willing to do for you — whatever it took to create a safe environment for you. On top of that, he had assured you that he’d do his everything to keep you safe from everyone, but especially your father, and you fully trusted him to keep that promise.

Still, you didn’t expect that hypothetical situation would come to life. You were used to worrying about your father and the eventual time when he’d get out of prison, but when Frank began spending more and more time at your apartment, you lost track of that nervousness and it became an afterthought. You felt safe for the first time in years, but it all came crashing down on one otherwise regular Sunday.

There was a knock on your door and it caught both your and Frank’s attention in the kitchen where you were cooking dinner together. ”I’ll get it”, you smiled at him before he could jump at the opportunity, gently squeezing his arm before you left him with the chopped vegetables and headed for the front door.

You swung it open, and at the sight of your father, your face lost all vitality and your heart sank all the way down to the floor. ”There you are! At least you had the decency to open the door”, he slurred, clearly already intoxicated, and panic emerged in your chest. He had to have been only just released from prison, and here he was, already drunk and tracked you down.

”You’re not welcome here. Leave, okay?” you stuttered, far less demanding as you wanted to be, and the attempt made your father snort. He tried to step inside, but you quickly narrowed the doorway, not letting him invade your home. He reacted with a mean stare, calling you an ungrateful brat under his breath, and you tried your best to fight off tears.

”Sweetheart, who is it?” Frank called to you from the kitchen when you didn’t return, and with a shaky exhale, you realized you didn’t have to face your father alone. You had the city’s greatest weapon right there with you.

”It’s my father”, you declared loud enough for him to hear, and you instantly heard him drop the knife in his hands. Not more than two seconds later, Frank was stomping from the kitchen, fueled by his concern for you but his face twisted into something furious.

”And who’s this?” your father chortled, swaying back and forth in the hallway, barely able to stand up. Frank assessed the situation, and he swiftly understood that there was no talking sense into a drunk man. That was fine with him — he wasn’t really in the mood for polite conversation, anyway.

”Get the fuck outta here. This is your only warning”, Frank grunted, leaving nothing up to debate. He stood in front of you, shielding you from your father who was hardly impacted by Frank’s thinly veiled threat, and you quietly cried from the sheer terror.

”Hey, you can’t tell me—”, your father began, but Frank was having none of it. He shoved your father into the hallway and closed the door behind him, not wanting you to witness their bickering and get upset even more. You were scared for him, but realistically you knew that Frank could take care of himself, especially against someone absolutely wasted and delirious.

Frank dragged your father outside by his arm, his grip enough to leave bruises in the shape of angry fingers, and he wasn’t stopping despite the drunk man’s feeble protests. He was fuming, absolutely livid that your father had had the audacity to show up and put your life in shambles all over again, and he couldn’t stop thinking about all the abuse you had endured. The man under his grip deserved nothing but the worst, and he would have been honored to be the one to give it to him.

Once outside, Frank pushed your father forward, causing him to stumble down onto the pavement. ”You’re a pathetic asshole, y’know that? You don’t deserve someone like her. You don’t deserve to call yourself a father. And if you come here again, I’mma make sure you regret even thinkin’ about it”, Frank seethed, standing above your father menacingly. He didn’t get up or argue back, so Frank considered his job done for now — but he was going to stay true to his word if he’d ever show his face again. The only reason he hadn’t killed him yet was knowing that you struggled with the idea, and he didn’t want to hurt you by hurting him.

He made his way back inside where you were a trembling mess, and instantly softer, Frank closed the door behind him and pulled you into his arms. ”It’s aight, darlin’. He’s gone”, he soothed you, his heart breaking when you burst into sobs against his firm chest. He felt sickened by the thought of what you had suffered through. As a father himself, he could not imagine ever doing that to his children, and he couldn’t fathom how broken a person had to be to resort to abuse the way your father had. It was the lowest of the low in his opinion, and he was almost hoping your father would give him further excuse to royally beat him up.

”I was so scared”, you confessed through cries, and with an understanding nod, Frank kissed your forehead and caressed your hair. He didn’t consider himself to be an expert at giving comfort, but for you, he would always pull out all the stops.

”I know, baby. It’s over now. He ain’t comin’ back, I promise, I’ll make sure of it. He can’t hurt you no more”, he swore, swallowing down his rage before withdrawing from you enough to look down into your eyes. ”I’mma help you file for a restraining order, yeah? And if he still won’t listen, I’ll break his fucking legs”, he guaranteed, entirely serious, but it still got a little laugh out of you.

”I’d like to see that”, you pointed out, and with a small smile, Frank swiped his thumb across your cheek in a comforting motion.

”There’s my girl. Hey, I’ll always keep you safe, you know that, right?” he reminded you, and slowly, you gave him a nod to confirm you trusted him.

”Thank you, Frankie. I’d be lost without you”, you sighed, hugging him again, and he enveloped you into his strong arms while resting his chin on the top of your head.

”You know I feel the same way about you, sweetheart”, he whispered, always so grateful to have you in his life. He found you so utterly perfect and beautiful inside out, he couldn’t believe anyone would ever hurt you. And even though your father had done exactly that, you were still so strong and kind, something he didn’t think he always was himself.

He admired the hell out of you, and he was going to do whatever it took to help you keep your peace of mind.

[dovveri]

the right reasons

bachelorette masterlist - part 1 ▸ part 2 ▸ part 3 ▸ part 4 ▸ part 5 ▸ part 7

synopsis: final stretch of the season. home visits.

warnings: implied sex

w/c: 3.4k

a/n: apologies for late update i have been laid on my literal deathbed with sickness and the brain juices have basically run out for this series so this is a short update to get them flowing again and hopefully i can wrap it up soon 🙏 ty for the support as always!

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

the next few days are hectic with house visits. because of the contract you had both signed, and the fact that the entire nation has been invested with sana's journey to find love, it was a given that sana wouldn't be able to just drop out of show. that didn't mean she didn't try, in fact you had to pull her back from calling all the lawyers in the district to break her contract, insisting that it was fine to see the show through and that you were going to be there for her no matter what. it took a few more assurances, and a couple rounds of sex, kisses, and promised cuddles before she reluctantly agreed to continue filming the upcoming home visits.

jiwon's family was first. you had both met her younger siblings and her several nieces and nephews that were very young. they were all very sweet and it was adorable watching jiwon entertain the young ones.

fortunately, the classic 'father figure that gives the intruder the i'll kill you if you hurt her speech' wasn't present because it seemed jiwon served as that person for her younger siblings. though her younger sister was a little skeptical at first, she easily warmed up when she saw how great sana was with her kids.

sana and jiwon wrapped up the night with a private talk, one which sana didn't share with you, but you were learning to trust her, even though it still looked like she was dating 4 people and soon to choose the love of her life, you had to trust that it was going to be you after it all ended.

jacky's family was next except since most of his family was back in australia, you actually just had a nice dinner at jacky's apartment with eunji who jacky had nominated as his family stand-in. you had apologised profusely to eunji for not being a better friend and not being there for her on the night she was eliminated but she laughed at you and rolled her eyes, saying it was completely fine. she was also friendly with sana who was a little anxious seeing her again so soon after practically rejecting her on national television, but eunji was extremely cool, and they got along even better as friends.

if you ignored the cameras set up everywhere and the producers running in and out, it was a pretty normal night between 4 friends. you had enjoyed dinner made by both jacky and eunji, drunk soju, sung bad karaoke on jacky's home-installed karaoke television set, and played nintendo switch games all night.

in typical bachelor fashion, jacky and sana also had their own private talk on the balcony towards the end of the night, although it was a little silly watching the producers and camera crew figure out how to film it because it was a small apartment, meant only for jacky to live in, so the balcony was basically right outside the living room where you and eunji had stayed, trying not to look outside and give them their privacy while they were having their mandated talk.

then, the crew had surprised everyone with a flight to japan for momo's home visit. momo had greeted all of you at the airport in a traditional kimono and one ready for sana as well. sana had teared up seeing her and being in her country of birth again. the next few hours were a whirlwind as momo and her sister hana took you all for a tour of their home city, stopping by all the essential places to eat, take pictures at, and had even brought you to momo's old dance studio where they had readied a performance just for sana. the producers were very happy with the amount of content they were getting as you explored the city.

you could tell sana absolutely loved this date. the amount of planning momo put into it showed how much she wanted to impress sana, and how much she understood her homesickness and her love for her birth country. it was hard to be jealous of momo getting most of sana's attention during the date when sana was on the verge of tears at every new sight, sound, and feeling. and momo was a sweetheart anyway, always being inclusive of everyone, making sure she was there if anyone needed translation or help with anything, you adored her as a friend, grateful that she was able to provide this experience for sana during the stressful filming season it's been.

you ended the day at momo's house. you met her parents and although you were a little intimidated by her dad's buff physique, he turned out to be a big teddy bear who supported his daughter more than anything. both her parents were glad to be able to converse with sana in their native language, and easily warmed up to her because of the fact that she was japanese and communication was made a lot easier. you spent a lot of the dinner just watching them, only catching hints of their conversation from your select knowledge about the japanese language, but momo noticed eventually and tried to translate as much as she could which you appreciated very much.

it was only a little awkward when momo and sana went for their end of the night chat and you had to sit with momo's family attempting to make small talk with your broken japanese. it turned out okay when momo's mom smiled sweetly and brought out dessert, turning on the television and flicking to an episode of the bachelorette with japanese subtitles. it turned out to be the episode that heechul had tried to rizz up momo and sana using his almost offensive japanese, and you were all able to laugh as you tried to explain using gestures and your best attempt at charades exactly what type of man heechul was behind the scenes.

although japan and korea weren't far, the crew had let you had some time off in japan and granted a day off after filming the dinner with momo's family so that sana could go home and see her family as well. so that night you had taken the bullet train from kyoto to osaka and sana had held your hand, leaning into you as she talked through her childhood stories softly. it felt like it was just the two of you against the rest of the world.

the next day sana was positively glowing. she practically skipped around you in circles while she took you around her home town. it was clear she was loved and missed in the neighbourhood. sweet old ladies and old friends were stopping her everywhere, asking how she was, if she was going to move back to japan soon, everyone wanted a piece of her.

you had dinner with sana's parents who you'd met already when they flew to korea for sana's graduation. although there was still the language barrier, it was easily overcome when sana's mom started showing you albums of sana's baby pictures and pictures of her throughout her childhood.

sana had squealed adorably, trying to cover up her baby pictures and chasing you around the house while you yelled out comments while rapidly flipping through the pictures before she could catch you.

you ended the night collapsed on sana's bed in her childhood room, cuddled into each other. you never really decorated your room when you were younger, too repressed and focused on your studies to ever find the time or worth in doing so. but seeing sana's walls plastered with old japanese anime posters, idols, her ceiling dotted with glow-in-the-dark stars, and pictures of her friends and family everywhere, you can't help but yearn for the childhood you could've had if you had tore away from the books for a little bit.

you're both laid supine on the bed, looking at the imitation night sky sana has in her room, little do you know sana's gaze is focused on you instead.

"y/n?"

"hmm?"

"thank you for being here."

"are you kidding? i wouldn't be anywhere else in the world right now. plus we just got a free trip to japan, life couldn't be any better. i should be thanking you."

sana giggles and fully turns her body, facing you and draping an arm over your stomach. you have your arm under her neck, supporting it while she nuzzles into you.

when she starts playing with the bottom of your shirt, sneaky fingers sliding up and under it, you squeeze out a warning, "sana... your parents are literally next door."

you can feel her smirk against your neck as she starts leaving light kisses along it, and you're helpless, lifting your head slightly to give her better access.

she hums against you, "you can be quiet can't you?"

you make a muffled sound of protest, "your childhood idols and plushies are watching us right now."

you can't see it but sana rolls her eyes, continuing her way up your neck, "i lived out my teen years in here. you think they haven't seen me get off?"

you squirm at the thought, the image of sana under her sheets, trying to keep quiet while she touched herself to whatever fantasies she had at the time.

"you're thinking about it aren't you? how i looked- coming home after school- do you have a school uniform kink y/n? that's slightly concerning y'know?" she leaves a hot trail of dangerous kisses up your throat with each phrase, intent on driving you absolutely crazy.

"n-no!"

"mm okay." then her lips are on yours and really, you should know better than to alert her parents of your sexual proclivities but when sana's licking into you like that you can't blame yourself for not being able to think straight.

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

the final date is of course, with jihyo back in korea.

you were nervous walking in through the front door, the sight of jihyo's parents and her sisters, all familiar faces from when sana and jihyo used to host parties and get-togethers for the various holidays of the year.

fortunately, jihyo's parents and rest of her family were sweet enough to welcome the both of you with open arms. as if the breakup never happened. you gripped sana's hand tightly knowing she was probably going through a hellstorm of emotions right now, being in an environment that reminded her of the brokenness jihyo left her with.

what you did not expect was jihyo's ex-boyfriend to also be at the dining table, all smiles and big buff arms.

sana's hand tightened around yours at the sight of him, her eyes quickly flashing to jihyo with a mixture of hurt and disbelief. jihyo avoids her gaze, sitting down next to her ex-boyfriend instead.

you hear sana take a deep breath, composing herself before the cameras and smiling, you can see straight through it though, keeping her hand in yours when you take your seats at the table, glaring daggers at both jihyo and her ex.

it's clear the tension around the table is present.

jihyo's mom clears her throat, attempting to strike up a conversation, "so sana... it's been a while since we've seen you. what have you been up to?"

sana smiles politely, "well this entire show has been a pretty big thing lately. although i will say i was very surprised to see jihyo there on opening night. not as surprised as i am to see your ex-boyfriend here though." sana directs towards jihyo, a little harshly, stabbing her food with her fork.

"sungbin. it's nice to meet you." sungbin offers a polite nod, but keeps mostly to himself.

"sungbin is my best friend. i thought if y/n could go on this whole experience with you then it wouldn't be a problem if i brought my best friend along." her tone is cutting, like she knows something you don't. "besides... my family's already met you and given you their approval. i thought the whole point of home visits was to get to know people close to me and see if they like you?"

sana shuffles a little in her seat, her grip on you tightens. "right."

the table falls silent again, only the sounds of cutlery scrapping against plates able to be heard.

it's more than awkward and you can see the producers talking worriedly with each other, coming up with any ways to make this more entertaining.

it's jihyo's dad that clears his throat this time, "so sana... do you think you've found your 'one' on this show? i know jihyo is a contestant on your show but know we still care about you and want the best for you, even if that's not our daughter." he smiles kindly, while his wife pecks him on the cheek for his sweet words.

"dad!" jihyo startles.

"what? just because you decided to break up with sana doesn't mean we wanted to let go of her."

"yeah sungbin isn't nearly as good as you at super mario bros even with all those muscles." jihyo's youngest sister chimes in with a laugh, lightening the mood easily as you slip into old conversations and reminiscing better times. you can see the producers visibly relaxing as conversation starts flowing, but jihyo is still tense, unable to look at anyone except sungbin in the eye.

eventually the night leads you into board games with the family while sana takes jihyo outside to talk. you give her a reassuring look before she heads outside, sungbin gives you a strange glance but you don't bother paying him any attention. regardless of his presence, he was still a stranger to you.

you're celebrating your third pass by the go slot in monopoly when the argument outside starts to get louder and louder, able to be heard from inside the house.

"why would you bring him here!?"

"what do you mean why? don't tell me you haven't been sneaking around with y/n this entire time! you haven't even given this show a chance have you?! you haven't given us a chance!"

"jihyo i told you last time that we are over! we have been over for over a year now!"

"i apologised for that okay! i just thought- i didn't think you'd be the type of person to go on this show for the wrong reasons sana."

"what- what wrong reasons?!"

"you're not here to find love! you've had it! even when we were dating i always thought it was kinda weird how close you and y/n were!"

"what- what are you talking about jihyo?!"

"you know damn well what i'm talking about."

"i don't."

"the fact that you've been in love with y/n since way before we were dating sana."

"wh- what?!"

"yeah. i figured if you're not taking this experience seriously than i give you a taste of your own medicine. that's why i invited sungbin tonight. everyone talks about people only coming on these reality shows for their 15 minutes of fame, i didn't peg you to be one of them sana."

"i am taking this seriously! how can you tell me anything about what i've been doing when you've had tunnel vision this entire time? you've only been focused on trying to get me back after i already told you that we're over!"

"if you are taking this seriously then tell me you don't have feelings for y/n. tell me you're going to end up with one of the final four, it doesn't have to be me, but don't you think you owe it to the others who have been trying so hard to impress you this entire time to give it your all?"

"i- that's not for you to decide jihyo."

"you can't say it can you?"

there's silence for a bit, the muffled sound of sniffling. you can't help but feel like you're intruding, and the fact that everything was being filmed and recorded right now made it even worse.

you quietly slip out of board games night and head towards the producers.

"you're going to cut that out right?"

"sorry?"

"their conversation. you'll cut it out?"

"excuse me, who do you think you are?"

"sana's best friend. who cares about her and her national reputation as korea's most eligible bachelorette."

the producer sighs exasperatedly, "we'll see what we do in the final edits. no promises." he rolls his eyes and pushes past you to go talk to the camera directors.

you hurridely go outside to see sana sitting on the balcony, her head in her hands, jihyo looking out across the balcony.

"sana?"

they both turn to you, jihyo rolls her eyes predictably, scoffing and moving past you back inside. you take the opportunity to step outside and close the door behind you.

"sana sweetheart..."

sana's eyes are watery, barely concealed emotions rampant across her face.

"cameras." she gestures weakly around the balcony where cameras and microphones are still set up.

"let's go home then."

she takes a breath, nodding slightly and taking your outstretched hand, you squeeze it reassuringly, leading her out of the house and offering your goodbyes to jihyo's family.

rather than take the driver back to the bachelorette pad, you insist on driving and giving the driver the rest of the night off. that way, you can at least ensure the both of you aren't under the watchful eye of producers looking to make a buck off sana's misfortune for entertainment.

it also helps that you can take a detour and head to a late night ice-cream parlour you and sana used to go to all the time as college students.

you grin when you see sana's expression immediately brighten when you pull up into familiar streets.

"where are we going y/n?"

"somewhere as sweet as you."

"ice-cream?"

"mhm."

she squeals happily, hugging you and you try your best to return it with a laugh while you keep your eyes on the road.

you park and walk into the ice-cream parlour hand in hand.

sana beams when she walks in, excited to taste test all the flavours despite always getting the same thing every time. you let her be childish again to forget all the things jihyo's said to her.

once she's tasted everything you order your usual white crumble pistachio and strawberry yoghurt for sana.

as always, she has to try some of yours and you must try some of hers because she's tried yours so it's only fair. except this time she leans in to kiss you, the flavours mixing on your tongues, a sweet kiss with no cameras or pressure, a moment just for the two of you.

after you're both finished with your cones, she leans into you, placing her head on your shoulder.

"about what jihyo said..."

"it's okay sana. you don't have to explain anything. i shouldn't have been eavesdropping anyway."

she snorts, "well i mean- it's going to be broadcast nationally anyway."

"maybe not. producers said they'll take it into consideration."

"mm. i haven't- i don't-"

you let her think, placing an arm around her shoulder comfortingly, letting her come up with the words in her own time.

"i love you. i told you that already. i don't know for how long- maybe jihyo's right and maybe i've always loved you. that doesn't mean that- it doesn't mean that i haven't put my all into this right?"

"of course not sweetie. i don't know if it was the same for you but i didn't even realise i had romantic feelings for you until during this. in the beginning, i was completely focused on finding the person that would be right for you. and i think you were too. it just so happened that halfway through, we started- well i realised that you were it for me." you turn to face her gently, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and caressing her cheek.

she rubs her nose against yours softly with a smile, "you're it for me too. i'll figure out how to get through the rest of the season, but i think jihyo's right in that i have to start being honest with the rest of the contestants. none of them deserve to be led on like this."

"i'm sorry i kinda fucked up this whole show for you."

she pecks you chastely, "silly... we wouldn't be here together or have realised our feelings for each other if this didn't happen right? we just have to be selfish for a little more."

you sigh against her, bringing her into a proper kiss, lips trying to convey just how much you felt for her.

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

If you still wanna write about Steve how about him and reader babysitting on a neighbors kid and it’s still very early in their relationship (or not lmao up to you) but it’s just adorable and kinda like playing house? Let the babysitter babysit 😌

practice makes perfect [s.h.]

an: ohhhhhhh i loved this bad. you’re a genius. i hope you enjoy!!! feel free to send requests/suggestions whenever

no warnings just fluff! wc: 2.5k

masterlist here!!!!

The relationship you had with Steve bloomed quickly. You went from strangers to friends to lovers in the span of about 3 weeks. A whirlwind romance. It had been a few months of the two of you being exclusive and it already felt like something that would be lifelong. 

Steve was attentive and sweet. He’d slip his hand into the back pocket of your jeans and pull you close to him when he could tell you were in your head about something. He’d run you a bath after a long day at work and sit beside you with his chin on the edge of the tub while you rambled on about whatever had happened. He would try—and mostly fail, though you never told him—to cook you these intricate meals. 

You’d fallen in love with him quick and hard. It hit you like a ton of bricks and took your breath away. Sometimes looking at him for too long felt overwhelming, your body buzzing and your throat thick with emotion as you’d watch him smile at something, eyes full of love and light. 

Steve was overwhelming, in the best way possible. 

You have that feeling now, your insides melting and heart thudding against your chest as you watch him bounce your neighbor's baby on his knee. Her little fingers are holding onto his big ones tightly, giggles flowing freely from the both of them as he coos and sings to her softly. 

Your heart might explode. 

It was a few days prior when your neighbor had approached you. Anna was a single mom, sweet and welcoming and you’d taken a liking to her. She worked three jobs and picked up odds and ends when she could. You admired her, helped out as much as possible and spent a few weekends a month with her precious little girl, Charlotte. 

Charlie was 8 months old and full of energy. You’d grown somewhat attached to her and it warmed your heart that she’d flash her toothless grin at you, chubby arms reaching for you expectantly when you came over. 

Anna had come knocking on your door during date night, apologizing profusely when you opened the door and she saw Steve attached at your hip. She’d asked if you could possibly watch Charlie on Friday, a big event at work with money that was too good to pass up. 

“Of course we will.” 

Both of your heads had turned to Steve, a grin on his face and a sureness in his eyes. You’d told Anna all about Steve, had gushed about him for months and she had no hesitation in accepting his offer, thanking the both of you before running back over and leaving you to date night. 

“Steve, are you sure you wanna come with me? Charlie’s an easy kid for the most part but…it’s tough sometimes.” 

He looked offended that you’d even suggest him not coming, scoffing slightly and waving his hand in the air at you. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. You’ll be there. Plus, this’ll be good practice for when we have babies.” 

That stopped you in your tracks, mouth falling open slightly and your heart racing. Of course you had thought about what kids with Steve would be like, how cute that would be, but to yourself. You didn't dare say it out loud and the way he said it so casually, so sure, had your blood pumping. 

And that brought you to know. Anna had left about an hour ago and Steve hadn’t even let Charlie out of his arms since she’d passed her over when you walked through the door. Charlie had taken to him immediately, pinching his cheeks between her little fingers and tugging softly at his hair. You couldn’t blame her though, he had great hair. 

“How lucky am I, huh? Get to spend my Friday night with the two prettiest girls in the world.” He’d leaned forward to nuzzle his nose against hers gently and she fell into a fit of giggles, clapping excitedly as if she’d actually understood what he said. 

God, your ovaries were going to explode! He fell into the role so naturally, cradling her head even though she was strong enough to hold it up on her own. You sighed in content when he pressed quick kisses to her cheeks or when he blew raspberries on her tummy and she thought it was the best thing in the world. 

“Having fun, Steve?” You sat beside them on the couch, arm resting behind him so you could play with his hair while he entertained the baby. 

“Are you kidding? This is fuc—freaking great. She’s a doll.” You couldn’t help but to laugh at the panic in his eyes at almost cursing in front of her. Assuring him that she wouldn’t pick up any bad words this young, you held your hands out to take her. 

While normally she’d reach for you eagerly, this time she eyed you carefully for a moment before turning back to Steve, laying her head on his shoulder and toying with the necklace he was wearing. 

Steve shut his mouth quickly, trying not to laugh at the look on your face. You looked genuinely offended, eyes wide and a small pout on your lips that made him want to lean over and kiss you. 

“Really, Charlie? 5 minutes with him and I’m old news!? I thought we were friends.” Leaning forward you tickled her side and laughed when she squirmed away and giggled. Eventually she decided to humor you, holding her hands out and letting you pluck her from Steve’s arms. 

Steve followed you through the house to her room, watching from the door as you laid her down to change her.

A fondness settled over him as he watched you, his heart all but melting in his chest as Charlie babbled to you and you nodded your head along as if you knew what she was saying. This came easy to you, being motherly and delicate. And Steve loved you even more for it. 

As he stood there quietly he pictured you with a child of your own. His child. He pictured bath times and stories before bed. He pictured kisses goodnight and breakfasts on the porch outside. 

For a long time he didn’t think he was meant for any of that, didn’t deserve it. But then he met you and everything he thought he knew was flipped upside down and changed in a flash. When he looked at you he saw your first dance and a baby and your first home and family vacations. He saw a lifetime of love and passion. 

You made him feel like it was possible to have that life he’d always secretly dreamed of. And even if things somehow didn’t work out—he hoped to god they did—he’d always owe you for showing him that being hopeful wasn’t a bad thing. 

He’s pulled from his thoughts when you walk up to him, Charlie bouncing on your hip and clapping when she gets sight of Steve waiting for her. He takes her with open arms and while you could pretend to be hurt you can’t deny the way you feel all fuzzy watching them together. 

“Gonna be the best mama, you know?” 

“I hope so.” 

“She’s just all over me because I’m a shiny new toy. But watching you with her…I can’t wait to see it one day.” 

You curse at the way your eyes fill with tears. This is one of those times Steve is so overwhelming and he doesn’t even know it! He’s just so naturally good. He’s so special and the most frustrating part is that he doesn’t even realize it. 

“Sometimes I love you so much I just want to smack you.” He finally sets Charlie down and watches carefully as she crawls over to her bucket of toys before he’s looking back at you, amusement in his eyes and a small quirk to his lips. 

“You’re just so…you! You are a good guy, Steve, the best I know. And you give yourself so little credit. I wish you could see how important you are. Not just to me but everyone around you. I’ll be a good mom because I love kids and know how to care for them, but I’ll be a great mom because you’ll be by my side. You’re gonna be the best daddy.” 

He’s looking at you with a look you can’t recognize, eyes heavy and it’s almost like he's studying you and you feel yourself growing shy under his gaze. 

“I don’t…I don’t know what to say. I, uh, I just know that I love you, a lot, like more than anything. And I feel proud you even entertain the idea of having kids with me.” 

You’re so full of love for him you’re not sure you can put it into words either, so instead you lean up on your tiptoes and press your lips to his, soft and gentle and full of all the things you want to say but don’t know how. 

Steve pulls back first, the heaviness in eyes gone and replaced with something light and playful. “Stop trying to get in my pants! The baby is right there, you perv. Let’s go make dinner before you scar her for life.” 

Smacking his chest and cursing at him under your breath doesn’t do anything but make his smile grow even bigger, dimples popping out when you roll your eyes and walk over to pick Charlie up. 

“C’mon girls, Steve’s making dinner!” His voice booms as he makes his way to the kitchen, pulling out ingredients you aren’t sure go together and shaking your head at Charlie, who’s watching him walk away with stars in her eyes.

“Don’t worry, kid. I’ve got some snacks in my bag in case this happened.” 

——

Dinner went surprisingly well, all 3 of you eating what Steve had cooked instead of the chips and chocolate you had stashed away in your bag. Anna had mentioned she gave Charlie a bath earlier in the day so now you were all lounging on the couch while you waited to give her a bedtime bottle. 

Some kids' tv shows held her attention, and Steve’s. 

A while later you pulled yourself off the sofa, stretching your arms over your head and telling Steve you were going to get her bottle and you’d be right back. It doesn’t take long, the routine is mindless and second nature to you at this point. When you’re making your way back into the living room, Steve’s voice has you stopping in your tracks. 

Charlie is cradled in his arms now, head resting in the crook of his elbow and he’s using his finger to rub small circles on the spot between her brows. “I hope it doesn’t offend you that I wanted to use you as practice. If it makes you feel any better you’ve been great! My favorite baby girl. You make it seem like it won’t be so scary having my own. I hope they’re as sweet as you, or their mama.” 

The hand that’s not holding her bottle is resting against the doorframe, your knees threatening to give out. At this point you’ve stopped thinking that you can’t love him more. He always proves you wrong. 

You clear your throat, taking some steps forward and laughing when Steve holds his hand over his head to take the bottle. I guess he’s feeding her. 

He watches in awe as she suckles gently, little drops of milk gathering in the corners of her mouth and he wonders why everything she does is so cute. She’s grilling his finger with a tight little fist that makes him smile. 

Half of the bottle is gone before she’s dozing off, head on Steve’s shoulder as he gently pats her back. Your head is on his other shoulder, fingers resting on his arm that’s cradling her against his chest. 

This is something you could get used to, you think. 

——-

It’s not long before Steve and Charlie are knocked out. Steve is slumped down with his legs stretched out in front of him, head leaning softly Charlie’s who’s lying on him belly to belly, head turned to the side facing you so you see the way her cheek smushes against his chest. 

TV off, the glow of the lamp the only light in the room. It’s dark outside now, your knees tucked to your chest as you watch them sleep. 

The click of the front door grabs your attention and you turn to see Anna coming in with tired eyes and her heels she had to wear for the event dangling from her fingertips. They drop with a soft thud to the carpet and she smiles at the sight of her baby cuddled to Steve before she turns to face you. 

“Thanks for doing this, it means the world to me.” 

“Anytime, Anna,” You gesture towards Steve on the other end of the couch and laugh under your breath, “it seems in not the only one that’s grown attached to Charlotte.” 

“I take it he was good with her then? I kinda got the feeling he would be.” 

“Y-yeah, he was…yeah. Gave me a big case of baby fever watching him with her.” You try to brush it off jokingly but you can’t take your eyes away from Steve or the way he cradles her against him. It’s mesmerizing almost, how perfect it looks. 

Anna gives you a knowing smirk, hands on her hips as she looks between you and Steve. “Yeah, I can see that.” You blush under her stare, hands coming up as if to say “whoops”. He’d proven to you tonight just how capable he was and it did things to you that you couldn’t explain. 

“Well, I know this thing between you two is…fresh. But I can see it in your eyes, picturing him with your own kids. It’s scary and a lot of and I’m not saying you should go and get pregnant now, but don’t freak out because you’re having daydreams about it. He’s a good one, we both know that. It’s okay to be sure about these things, even if it feels like it isn’t.” 

Her words soothed a part of you that you didn’t know needed it, but you felt better all the same. You nudged Steve gently, trying not to startle him or the baby and smiled when Anna went over to scoop her out of his arms. She thanked him quietly and he hummed sleepily, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Charlie’s head before pulling his shoes back on and taking your hand in his. 

You walked wordlessly back to your house, thankful your mind had quieted down some. All that was heard was the chirping of crickets and the click of your front door being unlocked before Steve led you in. 

Both of your eyes heavy with sleep you let him tug you up the stairs to your room and pull you into bed without changing your clothes. He pulled you close to him, your back pressed up against his chest and his arm slung over your waist. 

“Thanks for playing house with me tonight, Stevie. Love you.” 

“Anytime, baby. Love you most.” 

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 5]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

words: 4.4k

It has been one week since you saw Matt Murdock on the evening news, and it feels like it has been a complete whirlwind. First, you reintroduced yourself to him and let him know he was a father, then you had a nice little outing, and to tie it all up, a trip to the doctors to confirm what you already knew. 

Matthew Murdock is the father of your daughter.

It is nice to have an official statement from a doctor and now you can start the process of changing Minnie's paperwork to include his name. You have to go to the courthouse to file for an updated birth certificate. Matt has very kindly offered to take that task on for you - he goes to the courthouse often for his job and he knows the ins-and-outs of navigating legal paperwork. You just have to go and drop off the right documentation. 

You had a brief call last night, after Minnie had been put down, and decided that you would visit his office today to do just that. You are going to kill two birds with one stone - hand over what needs to be filed and give Matt more time with his daughter. 

To your great surprise, your timid little Mouse absolutely adores him. She was not happy to have to be at the doctor's office yesterday and was on the verge of tears before he showed up. Her whole mood shifted, and she had spent the brief time you were in the waiting room and exam room telling Matt about different things around them. 

You have a feeling, when you sit down and tell her the truth, she is going to be thrilled. 

You told her that you are going to visit Matt at work today, and all morning she has been hunched over her sketchbook making pictures for him while you try to get in some hours at work. Try being the key word, as you've been thoroughly distracted by today's news cycle. 

You were half listening to a puff piece about something or other when breaking news flashed across the screen. A neighborhood in Connecticut has been leveled by some sort of explosion, killing hundreds. They don't know if it was an accident or some sort of attack - the epicenter of the blast was a school, so it could potentially be either. You pray it was a freak accident, some faulty pipeline or a weird meteor, because the world doesn't need any more horribleness in it. 

The idea that it might have been an attack makes you nervous. You've been through two horrible attacks on New York, and you didn't realize another big event so close to home would shake you so hard. 

It scares you that you have to raise Minnie in such a harsh world, where monsters of all kinds are very very real and you don't know who you can rely on. The police and government have been shown to be all kinds of corrupt and people who can shoot laser beams fight each other in the skies. 

You end up clocking out and going to sit with Minnie to get yourself to stop your doom-listening. She's got a few drawings scattered around the table and you pick up the one closest to you, smiling at her handy work. 

You recognize the shapes as her interpretation of people - oblongs with stick arms and noodle legs. Unknowingly, she's made her first new family portrait. There are three blob-people all holding hands: you suspect you're the big orange one with a smile, Minnie is the little pink one in the middle with what you guess are pigtails, and Matt is the black one with red eyes, who is also holding a stick. To confirm, you ask her.

"Is this one Mister Matt?"

Her head shoots up and a big grin spreads across her face, "Yeah!  And that's you and that's me and we're gonna go to the zoo!" There is a little flurry of motion and suddenly you are getting a picture show. She holds up the paper she was working on - there's another family drawing, but this time there's green scribbles all around you and a blue square with zig zags all over it. You guess that is some sort of animal. 

"You want to go to the zoo with Mister Matt?" You ask, examining her masterpiece.

"Yeah!" She says, pulling over another picture that you know are her versions of flowers, even if they are all different colors. "And the park!"

"And the park? Wow, that's a lot of things to do. Do you want to ask him if he wants to go to the zoo with us when we see him today?" Minnie eagerly nods at the question and that makes you smile. "Okay, we can invite him to the zoo. When are we going to the zoo?"

The question makes her bounce in excitement, "My birthday!" 

You laugh at her enthusiasm and give her a little back rub, "Exactly. We're going to go for your birthday. And get a big cake with whatever you want on it." That makes her a giggly mess and you temporarily forget all the bad things in the world. 

You hand her back her drawing before kissing the top of her hair, "How about you finish this one up and we get ready to go see Mister Matt? We can only visit for a little bit, because he's working, but I bet he'll love everything you made him."

Greedy little hands take back the paper and instantly Mouse is hunched back over her zoo scene, purple crayon in hand. You get up and go to make sure that you have everything you need to bring to Matt in order. You are extremely lucky that the doctor has the ability to print out things in Braille, so you don't need to make an extra stop to get things translated. 

You debate bringing Matt lunch, but ultimately decide against it. You don't want to push too much too fast, and you think it might be a little weird for his coworkers, to see a random person bring him homemade lunch. You know he hasn't told anyone yet about yourself and Minnie - he had shyly admitted it didn't feel real until the test results were given and you completely get it. 

You tidy up until you spy Mouse dropping her crayons into her bucket and cleaning up her drawing area. You let her do her thing, then approach, "Let's put your drawings with the other things we need to give Mister Matt. That way they won't get lost or wrinkled."

She nods like you've just said something very wise and gathers up her stack of papers before handing them over. There's five in total; the three she showed you and two more full of colorful lines. You decide you'll listen in on her explanation to Matt on those two, as you're curious as to what goes on in her little mind. 

Once everything is safe and ready to go, it's just a matter of getting shoes on. You go with your sensible sneakers while Minnie opts for her frog themed Wellingtons. The plan is for both of you to walk to the office, and after one final wallet-keys-phone check in your purse, you head out hand-in-hand.

It's mid-morning, so foot traffic is decent, but not heavy - nothing that makes Minnie too uncomfortable. Dark clouds are gathering on the horizon, and it makes you wonder if the rain that has been promised in the forecast will be coming sooner than expected and you are glad this outing is the only one you have planned. Taking Minnie around in the rain is never fun. It always seems like everything becomes more bustling in the rain and trying to navigate that with a crying toddler just makes you want to cry as well. 

But the promise of her new favorite person and mild weather has her walking like the born and bred New Yorker she is - a determined little pout with no nonsense steps. No one will be trying to sell her things on the sidewalks once she gets bigger. If she had a different personality, you'd want to teach her to say "Hey, I'm walking here" just to hear a toddler say it. 

As you spy the building Matt's office is in, you realize you should have sent him a text to say you were on your way. You did let him know vaguely what time you planned to stop by and he had assured you that they had no appointments - it was catch up on paperwork day - but that didn't mean walk-in clients hadn't come by. You're so close to already being there that you think the gesture is pointless, so you just keep walking until you get to the building.

"This is where we are going," you tell Minnie as you approach. You scoop her up to show her the business directory on the outside of the building. There aren't very many plaques to begin with, so it's easy to find the Nelson, Murdock, and Page one. "That is where Mister Matt works with his friends."

She leans out and feels over the embossed sign, running her fingers over the different letters. "'M'! For Minnie!" She says, pointing out the letter with a big smile. 

"Exactly. Mister Matt's last name starts with M, too. That word is his last name - Murdock."

That gets her to turn back to the sign, fingers dancing over the letters, brows knitting with curiosity, "How is it spelled?"

You spell out Murdock for her and Minnie repeats each letter after you. You do this a few times until she's able to say it out loud on her own. You don't know how long she'll retain the information, as spelling isn't really on the board yet, but you're happy she's interested. You set her back down and she makes a beeline up the steps, grabbing and pulling at the door with all her three-year-old strength. 

The lobby to the building is sparse, with basically only an elevator and staircase, with a door to what you suspect is a supply closet. "We're going up two staircases," you tell your daughter. 

"Two!" She confirms before taking off towards the stairs. You have a brief moment of panic that she's going to zip up both sets faster than you can catch her, but to your great amusement, she grabs a hold of the banister with both hands and pretends to use it like a mountaineering rope to climb the stairs. She even adds little fake huffs and puffs. You follow behind her, ready to catch her if she slips. She doesn't, and when you get to the floor Matt's office is on, she turns to beam at you, clearly proud of herself, "We did it!"

"We did it," you parrot, offering out your hand again. She takes it and you lead her to the correct door. The same plaque that was on the exterior of the building also hangs beside their door and Minnie astutely points to it.

"Murdock!" 

"That's right, it says Nelson, Murdock, and Page."

"Can I knock?" Mouse asks, raising her fist to do just that.

You hum, then gently explain, "This is business, which means work. For work, we don't have to knock. We can go in if it is open."

As soon as you say that she's opening the door and marching inside and you quickly follow her. 

Matt's law partners, Foggy and Karen, are in the reception area with a man you assume is a client of theirs, talking in hushed annoyed sounding whispers. He radiates intimidation, with a huge black eye and what looks to be a makeshift cast made of duct tape around his right wrist. The three of them turn to look at you and you get the sense Minnie had the right idea in asking if she should knock first. 

Your little one quickly latches onto your leg, turning timid in the space of a second and you can't really blame her. Part of you wants to turn and run. 

Karen recovers first, breaking away from the two exasperated men to step towards you and going into receptionist mode, "Hi. You were here last week to meet with Matt, right?" 

"Uh, yes, that's right. Is he, uh, available?" You ask, feeling like you no longer know how to speak English. The energy in the room is not a pleasant one and you very much feel like you've interrupted something important.

"He's on a call currently but I'll let him know you are here," Karen replies in a voice far kinder than what she uses to address the men behind her a beat later. She turns to them and points to the office you know is not Matt's. "In there. Now."

Foggy throws up his hands, like he's frustrated with whatever is going on and disappears into the other room. The man you don't know doesn't follow, eyes on you and your daughter as Karen crosses the room to knock on Matt's door before opening it and slipping into the office. You quickly decide you are not going to make eye contact with him, instead ducking your head and putting a comforting hand on Minnie's head. She's practically hidden herself behind your legs, clinging to your pants so tightly you fear they might rip.

"I like your boots," the man says into the quietness. You expect him to sound like gravel, but his gruff voice is rather soft, and you get the feeling he understands how to talk to children "My daughter used to have boots like those."

 Part of you wants to tell the man to not talk to your daughter, but that would be rude and just because he looks like he's been through the ringer doesn't mean he's a bad man. You decide to let her determine how she wants to proceed.

You feel Minnie poke her head out from where she's hidden herself. At first, you don't think she's going to reply, as you know how she is, but she surprises you yet again by mumbling out, "They're froggies." 

"Yeah? You like frogs?"

Mouse somehow tightens her grip, "I like animals." She presses her face against your leg, then admits, a little louder, "we're gonna to the zoo for my birthday."

That makes the man smile, and that changes his whole demeanor. Suddenly he looks friendly and kind and not like he's likely to stab you, "That's a good place to go for your birthday. How old are you gonna be?"

Before she can respond, the door to Matt's office swings open and Karen stalks out, followed by Matt, who seems much less agitated than everyone else. The blonde points to the unknown man, a little scowl on her face, "What did I say?"

The man holds up his hands defensively, stepping away from Karen and towards the office he was previously told to go in, "Alright, alright, I'm going. I'm going." That doesn't seem to help soothe her at all, as she grabs the man by the bicep and frog-marches him to join Foggy, closing the door behind them. 

"They didn't make you wait long, did they?" Matt asks, bringing your attention back to him. There is a cut on his lip that wasn't there the last time you saw him, and your instinct is to ask if he is okay, but you don't know if you are at that level with him yet.

So instead, you address his question, "No, no, we just got here."

He motions back to his office, a smile spreading across his face, and you almost forget about the cut, "Come on back and we can review everything." 

Minnie lets go of your pants only to take your hand again and you lead her into the other room. As you pass Matt, she looks up at him and gives a tiny wave.

"Hi, Mister Matt."

Matt's shoulders visibly relax at her greeting, and you can't help but start to smile, "Hi, sweetheart. How are you doing today?"

"Good! I maded you pictures," she says proudly. That causes him to pause as he starts to follow you into his office. You can tell he is surprised by the news - his voice gets a little choked up when he responds.

"You made me some pictures?"

"They are very good pictures," you advise, squeezing Minnie's hand slightly before letting go, "Do you want to tell Mister Matt what you drew for him?" She nods eagerly, so you point to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Go sit like a big girl and you can tell him."

She makes a dash for the chair, and you take the time to address Matt, "I'm sorry, I should have called ahead."

He shakes his head, and as he walks past you to go behind the desk, he reaches out and brushes his hand along your arm. A little shiver runs up your spine at the touch and you tell yourself the action was so he could orient himself. "Not a problem, I knew you were coming. How is everything?"

"Everything is good," you reply, a little shyer than you intend to. "I, uh, have everything for you. Is there anything else I need to fill out?"

Matt shakes his head, "Just a signature and date. You've done all the work for me already. I don't think I've ever had to file where I don't need to actually do anything but sign the document. It's a refreshing change."

"Do you know how long it will take to process?" You ask as you move to join Minnie in sitting. "The website gave multiple timelines and I just want to be realistic."

Matt takes his seat with a cocky grin, "Not long at all, I know a few judges I can ask to push it through."

You flush at the idea of him asking a favor to a judge on your account, "That's not necessary, Matt, I don't mind waiting."

He shakes his head, getting that soft look again, "I don't want to wait. I want it to be official in the eyes of the government."  

His words make you feel even warmer, and you distract yourself by pulling the file with all the paperwork out of your purse and pass it over to him. "Minnie's additions are at the bottom of the stack. The last five pages"

His fingers twitch slightly, and you wonder if he wants to flip right to those. You get your answer quickly.

"Minnie, is it okay if I go over the paperwork with your mom before you tell me about your pictures?"

"It's okay!" She replies, her voice much more cheerful now that you are alone with Matt. "Do you needs help?"

Her sweetness makes Matt smile more and he shakes his head, "Not right now, sweetheart. I need to read, and I can do that with my fingers, but after that you can help with some other things."

"Okay," she says happily, kicking her feet a little bit.

You catch her attention and motion to your purse, "Do you want a toy while you wait?" 

She shakes her head and beams up at you, "No thank you, I'm a big girl!"

Both you and Matt chuckle at her declaration and he moves to open the file. 

"There's multiple copies of everything," you tell him as you move onto business, "One printed text and one in Braille for the courts and the same for you. I have the same at home, as well. They are bundled in packets. The court papers are on top, Braille first."

He thanks you then begins to read the forms. Mouse sits up straighter in her chair to try and see what he is doing. She can just peek over the edge, and she watches in fascination as his fingers move over the pages. You wait quietly, not wanting to distract in any way. 

"Everything appears to be in order. We will just need a signature," Matt says after a minute. 

"Should I do that now?" You ask. The response is him offering you a pen, so you lean in to sign the various forms. As you set each document aside, Matt adds his own signature. It is silly how giddy you feel just having the forms finally completed. You don't know how long you've had just blank copies, waiting to be filed. 

"And done," Matt says with a final flick of his pen on the last page. "I'm going to the courthouse on Tuesday, so I'll get it processed then. I'll push to get an updated certificate as quickly as possible."

You have to bite your lip to keep from smiling like a crazy person. This isn't some dream or far off fantasy. Matt isn't just saying he wants to be Minnie's father. He is following through, with urgency. This is something he wants and it's almost surreal for you - you are so used to promises being broken and no one being on the same page as you in your desires. Even if this is all for Minnie and not for you, it is still on the edge of overwhelming for you. 

You never thought you'd be so happy over paperwork. 

"Thank you, Matt," you whisper, leaning back into your seat to sit properly.

Immediately, Minnie parrots you, thanking Matt even though she has no idea what is going on.

"No, thank you. Thank you both," he says, and you wonder if he is also holding back from smiling. He gathers the papers and sets them aside before running his fingers over the folder you gave him and addressing his daughter. "Okay, sweetheart. Do you want to come tell me what you drew?" 

You expect Minnie to stand on the chair and even prepare yourself to balance her, but that does not happen. She hops down and scurries around the desk to be at Matt's side and a moment later, he is pushing his chair back and she is climbing up into his lap. Embarrassment rushes through you - she's only ever behaved like this with you. She actually used to fuss and cry if anyone else tried to hold her. You haven't seen her sit in anyone else's lap since she had a say in who gets to hold her.

"Minnie!" You scold but Matt quickly shakes his head as he helps her up.

"It's okay, I don't mind," he tells you even though he looks completely shocked. If he wasn't her father, you wouldn't allow this, especially with someone so new to her, but he is her father, even if she doesn't know, so you don't tell her to get down.

Instead, you give a stern frown, "Minnie, you still need to ask before climbing on anyone, okay? Can you apologize?" 

Your little girl nods, then looks up at him, "I'm sorry, Mister Matt."

"It's okay, sweetheart. Like I said, I don't mind, but your Mommy is right, and you should ask so I know you are there. Next time, you'll know. Now, your Mommy said there were five pictures. Which do you want to start with?" He asks, scooting his chair back to the desk while wrapping one arm around Minnie's waist to keep her secure. 

Once she's able to, she leans in and picks up the first drawing in the stack. It is the family portrait, and you quickly get your phone out so you can record this interaction as Minnie lays out the picture. She then takes Matt's free hand and guides it to the paper before letting go to point at the circle that represents him.

"This is you," she tells him. He quickly finds where she is pointing and begins to trace the figure. 

"That's me?" And there is definitely more than a little bit of emotion in his voice. 

"Uh-huh, and that is me and Mommy and we're gonna go to see the duckies. Mommy said we can go again. But we're gonna get ice cream too. And a balloon," she says, moving her little finger all over the page. 

You watch Matt's finger follow hers - first over the doodle of himself, then Minnie's, and finally yours. Then, he traces back to the center figure. "We're holding hands?" He asks tentatively.

"Yup!" She answers, popping the p. "Mommy says we gotta hold hands if we go outside." 

Matt licks his lips a little and you see his muscles flex under his jacket as he holds Minnie a little more firmly to his chest, like he doesn't want to let go of her. "That's a good rule." 

"Mommy makes good rules," your little one replies wisely. That makes your ego sing a little. Mouse has always been good at doing what she's told, and you are proud that she understands your rules keep her safe.

Before she moves onto the next picture, you gently prompt her. "Sweetie, was there something you wanted to ask Mister Matt?"

Matt's head jerks up at that, looking right to you with brows slightly knit. Minnie bounces in his lap just a little, squirming so she can turn to look up at him, "I'm gonna go to the zoo! For my birthday! Do you wanna go?"

His lips part in surprise at the question and before you know it, he has both his arms wrapped around Mouse, hugging her to him. She instantly responds, looping her little arms around his neck and squeezing back. He rests his cheek against her head, and you see him slightly rock her from side to side. "I would love to go with you to the zoo, sweetheart."

Minnie giggles into his neck and you one hundred percent know that the transition to suddenly having two parents is not going to be hard for her at all. It might be confusing because Matt won't be living with you, but you have never seen her so comfortable with someone who isn't you. You know it's not just because he gave her a toy. They just click together so well.

You switch from video to your camera so you can sneak as many pictures as you can of Matt and Minnie hugging. They've completely forgotten about you and that is a-okay. 

In this moment, nothing else matters to you - not the strange man in the other office or the devastation a few states over or all the other trivial things that nag you and make your stomach turn. 

Your world is right in front of you and for the first time in a very, very long time, you really, truly believe everything is going to be just fine. 

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment

[satellite-evans]

Not my baby

Pairing : Harry Styles x reader

Summary: Harry comes back home with the wrong kid :)

Warning: tiny angst, happy ending, sleep deprived parents

Word count: 2.3k

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Harry had never truly understood what it meant to be a parent. He loved his family, of course—he adored his wife, Y/N, and now he found himself utterly smitten with their newborn daughter, Willow. But the reality of sleepless nights, endless feedings, and the whirlwind of emotions that came with being parents was something Harry had never fully grasped until now. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen his friends with their children or heard the stories from other parents. But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared him for how deeply the exhaustion would seep into every part of his being. And the exhaustion wasn’t just his. Y/N had been the one to endure the brunt of it, her body adjusting to the demands of both breastfeeding and the round-the-clock needs of their infant.

It had been nearly three weeks since Willow was born, and although Harry had tried to help in every way he could—holding Willow while she napped, soothing her when she cried, and trying to take on household chores—he knew that Y/N had it the hardest. She was the one that had carried Willow for nine months, the one who had brought her into the world, and now, she was the one who was still waking up every two to three hours to nurse, then trying to sneak in some rest during the day when Willow took her naps.

Despite the weariness that clung to her every movement, Y/N had a glow in her eyes whenever she looked at Willow. That love—the undeniable bond between mother and child—shone brightly even through the tiredness. Harry admired her for it, but he could see that she was starting to run on empty. He could feel it in her sighs, the way she held her head a little lower, and how she kept rubbing her tired eyes like they could somehow erase the exhaustion.

Harry knew he couldn’t take away the sleepless nights or the emotional toll, but today, he was determined to do something to help her. Just a little. A few hours of uninterrupted rest. That’s all he wanted to give her.

It was mid-morning, and Y/N had finally managed to doze off on the couch after nursing Willow and settling her back into her bassinet. She had been awake for hours, trying to comfort Willow, who had been fussy from teething. Harry saw how her eyes fluttered shut as soon as her body hit the cushions, and he knew that was his chance.

He tiptoed into the living room, making sure not to disturb her. He’d thought long and hard about how to make this work. There was no way he could bring Willow into the other room and make noise. But he could give Y/N some time to sleep if he took Willow out for a little walk. The fresh air would be good for both of them. Harry figured a quick stroll to the park would do the trick. Just a few hours. He’d be back before she even noticed.

He glanced at Willow, still peacefully asleep in her bassinet. He smiled softly, heart swelling with love. He picked her up gently, cradling her as though she were the most precious thing in the world. She was so tiny, so perfect. She had a tuft of dark hair on top of her head and a soft, little face that made Harry’s heart ache with joy. He placed her carefully into the stroller, making sure she was comfortable and snug with a soft pink blanket tucked around her.

The stroller was simple—black and white, sleek and modern. (Y/N) had picked it out before Willow was born, and Harry had made sure it was ready for the day they brought their daughter home. He adjusted the straps around Willow’s tiny body and double-checked the wheels, giving them a quick spin. Once he was satisfied, he crept into the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee, sitting at the table to quietly sip it before heading out. He didn’t want to wake (Y/N).

For a moment, Harry allowed himself a deep breath. He was still reeling from the intensity of fatherhood. It was overwhelming at times, especially with the lack of sleep. He thought about how this experience had shifted his entire perspective on life, on love, on what truly mattered. (Y/N) was everything to him, and Willow... Willow was their miracle.

After a few more minutes of silence, Harry decided it was time. He grabbed his jacket, slipped on his shoes, and with one final glance at Y/N, he left the house.

The air outside was crisp, a soft breeze rustling the leaves in the trees. Harry loved the quiet of the neighborhood during the day, the calm before life got busy again. He pushed the stroller slowly, savoring the peaceful moments as he made his way to the nearby park. Willow was still asleep, and Harry let himself relax for the first time all morning. There was something so serene about these early mornings—the silence, the fresh air, the gentle hum of life around him.

Harry hummed quietly, looking down at Willow. He reached down and gently stroked her hair, his voice soft and comforting.

“Alright, love. We’re off on an adventure, just you and me,” Harry whispered, smiling as Willow’s tiny face stayed relaxed, oblivious to his words. “I’ll make sure you’re as tired as I am by the time we get home. I know you’re sleepy now, but we’ll get some fresh air, won’t we?”

Harry continued walking, his thoughts drifting as he pushed the stroller down the sidewalk. “Your mum’s going to love this. A few hours of quiet for her—she deserves it more than anyone.”

As Harry approached the park, he noticed the familiar sight of other parents with their children. Some were chatting, some were on their phones, while others simply sat in silence, enjoying the break from the whirlwind of home life. Harry guided the stroller to a bench and sat down, looking out at the peaceful surroundings.

He watched Willow’s chest rise and fall gently in her sleep, her tiny hands curled into fists. It was hard to fathom how quickly she’d grown in just a few weeks. Harry knew he couldn’t wait to see her first steps, hear her first word. But for now, he was content to just be with her in this quiet moment.

Not long after, another man arrived at the bench nearby, pushing an identical stroller. Harry glanced over, raising an eyebrow at the coincidence.

“Hey there,” the man greeted, settling onto the bench next to Harry. “Nice day for a walk, huh?”

Harry smiled, glad to see someone else enjoying the peace and quiet. “Yeah, it’s beautiful out. My first time out with her,” he said, gesturing to Willow. “Trying to give my wife a break. She’s been—well, you know.”

The man nodded knowingly. “I get it. It’s tough, isn’t it? My daughter’s a handful, and I’ve been trying to get a break too. But, you know, they’re worth it.” He chuckled softly, glancing down at his stroller. “I’m just trying to let her nap for a bit.”

Harry laughed, nodding in agreement. “I hear you. Same here. She’s been pretty calm though, so I think I’m lucky so far.”

They both fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the kind of quiet that only new parents seemed to understand. Harry watched the man’s daughter playing in the distance, toddling toward a group of other kids. He smiled, feeling a little sense of camaraderie in the shared exhaustion of parenthood.

Harry’s eyes drifted back to the stroller beside him. He noticed the other man’s baby had a soft pink blanket just like Willow’s, and for a split second, Harry didn’t think twice. He stood up, yawning as he stretched his back.

“Alright, kiddo,” he murmured to Willow, who was still asleep. “Time to head home.”

The man had stepped away for a moment, leaving his stroller unattended. Without thinking, Harry grabbed it, instinctively pushing it toward the park entrance.

When Harry finally returned, he was beaming. He had given Willow the quiet afternoon she deserved, and now, he was looking forward to seeing Y/N wake up, refreshed and happy.

He quietly unlocked the door, stepping into the house with the stroller in tow. Y/N was still fast asleep on the couch, her chest rising and falling gently. Harry smiled to himself, knowing that soon, she would get a break.

He tiptoed over to her, setting the stroller down beside the couch and gently pulling back the blanket to reveal the baby. But when Y/N blinked her eyes open and took in the sight of the child in the stroller, her blood ran cold.

“Harry, what the hell... is this?” Her voice cracked with panic.

Harry froze. “What?”

“That’s... not Willow!” Y/N’s eyes grew wide with disbelief. She sat up so quickly that she nearly knocked the stroller over.

“What do you mean?” Harry frowned, peering into the stroller.

Y/N was practically shaking now. Her fingers trembled, gripping the edge of the couch. “That’s not our baby! That’s someone else’s child! Where is Willow?!” Her voice pitched higher, bordering on hysteria.

Harry’s heart raced. His thoughts scattered. He stepped back, his mind running through a thousand thoughts in an instant. He glanced from the baby in the stroller to Y/N, and then it dawned on him—he had made a mistake. A huge mistake.

“No... no way... no, I—” His voice trailed off as his own panic set in.

“Harry, you took someone else’s baby!” Y/N’s voice went from frantic to full-on hysteria. She was trembling now, her entire body shaking from the weight of the realization. “Oh my God, you took the wrong kid!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Harry tried to explain, his brain struggling to catch up with the sheer magnitude of the error. “I swear, I thought—”

Y/N wasn’t listening. Her breath was coming in short, panicked gasps. Her hands shook violently as she pulled out her phone to dial the police. But when she saw her fingers trembling uncontrollably, the numbers on the screen blurred. She could barely focus. Her vision blurred with tears of terror.

“Come on, come on,” she muttered, hands shaking so violently that the phone nearly slipped from her grasp. She tried again, but her hands wouldn’t stop trembling. “Why can’t I dial? I—I can’t breathe!” Her voice broke.

“Don’t call the police!” Harry begged, his voice cracking. “Please, just let me explain. I’ll fix this—just let me fix this.”

Y/N couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of utter dread. “You don’t understand,” she gasped. “We need to find Willow. We need to find her now.”

Her trembling hands hovered over the phone, but before she could dial the number, the doorbell rang, sharp and sudden. Harry’s heart stopped. He rushed to open the door, his stomach flipping with anxiety. And standing there, holding Willow in his arms, was the man her met at the park whose expression mirrored his own terror.

“That’s my daughter!” the man snapped, seeing the baby in Y/N's arms, his voice full of frustration. “What kind of person takes another child's baby?!”

Harry stood there, stunned. His eyes darted from the angry man to Willow in his arms and back to Y/N, who was now crying from a mixture of relief and rage.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled, barely able to find his voice. “I thought she was mine.”

The other father glared at him, his irritation palpable. “Yeah? Well, next time, keep track of your kid!”

As the situation settled, both parents not only exchanged the babies, but they also exchanged apologies. The tension in the room was still thick. Willow was safe, and the other baby was safe, but the mix-up was enough to send both families into a temporary panic.

When everything was finally sorted, Harry stood in the living room, staring at Y/N, who was still shaking from the ordeal but still hugging Willow close to her chest, who had no idea what happened. She walked over to him; her face a mixture of anger, exhaustion, and relief.

“Harry,” she began, her voice low but firm. “No more surprise walks. No more ‘I’m just trying to help’ crap. You scared me half to death!”

Harry looked down at the floor, feeling the weight of his mistake. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to help you get some rest.”

Y/N softened just slightly, placing a hand on his chest. “I know, love. I know. But next time, double-check the stroller, okay?”

Harry nodded, his heart still racing. “I swear, never again.”

And with that, they both took a deep breath. The chaos was over, but it would be a long while before they forgot the walk that went terribly wrong.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Love Quinn + an overgrown garden from the prompt list please

ofc!! thanks for the request for love btw <3

original prompt list can be found here for those who are curious

Grown With Love (Love Quinn x gn reader)

Warnings: very brief mention of murder but fluff other than that <3

The romance between you and Love, your newly-wed wife, seemed to happen in a whirlwind. It wasn't even six months after you'd met that you'd proposed to her, and naturally she'd agreed to it right away. You bought a house together not long after, one on the cheaper side that you could do some renovations on. She had very specific ideas for how she wanted the layout to be, which you of course gave her complete control over.

Where you lived didn't matter much as long as you got to be there with her, and besides, happy wife, happy life. You'd do anything to make her happy, that much was certain.

Plus, it wasn't as if you had to pay for it. She had her parents money to do that, so she could redesign the house however she envisioned it the be. If she wanted to gut the entirety of the kitchen and rework it to be on the other side of the first floor, who were you to stop her? The world was her oyster when it came to your new place, and that carried into the land it sat on, which included the backyard.

She told you she was planning on having a garden where she could grow all of her own fruits and vegetables, not wanting to rely on overly-priced produce from factories that pumped them full of chemicals from the grocery stores in the neighborhood. There were always local markets, but she wanted to try growing food herself for a change. You were never one for gardening, but if that's what she wanted then you were certainly more than happy to help.

(While it was true that she did want a garden, she also needed a fresh patch of land that wouldn't look suspicious for her to be digging up in case a body had to be buried somewhere. Not that she'd ever tell you about her little hobby, as it was her opinion that you didn't need to know.)

"Honey, can you come bring the wheelbarrow over here to me?" Love asked while pointing with a glove-clad hand in the direction of where the wheelbarrow sat on the other side of the yard. She was on her hands and knees trying to get rid of all the weeds and other plants that she was certain would try to choke out the life of her vegetable garden before it even got started.

"Sure thing, sweetheart." You didn't have much of a set job when it came to redoing the house and backyard. It seemed as though you were there for moral support more than anything else, but that didn't mean you weren't happy and eager to help out your wife whenever you could.

She beamed with pride when she saw you bring it over to her, immediately beginning to dump the weeds that were already dug up into it so they could be disposed of later. "Thanks, honey."

You beamed in response before speaking again. "I'm gonna go grab the lemonade you made earlier and bring it outside for you."

The smile on her face seemed to grow wider at that. You always knew exactly what she needed, and when. "You do that, sweetheart. I'll be out here."

While she continued messing with the garden, you went inside the house, making sure to watch out for the several building supplies the workers had left behind as you grabbed the pitcher of lemonade from the kitchen along with two glasses. You quickly returned outside and filled them up before carrying one of the glasses over to your wife. "Here you go, honey."

She removed her gloves and took the full glass from you as she thought about you looked adorable doing things for her. You were always so eager to please. "Thank you, baby. Why don't you come sit with me? I was just about to take a break anyway."

You immediately nodded your head at the suggestion, rushing to grab your own glass before returning back over to sit down beside her. The garden still needed a lot of work done on it, but it wasn't looking too bad so far.

"What do you want to plant?" Love asked you after a moment or so, watching as you gulped away at her fresh, homemade lemonade while she spoke. "I was thinking some tomatoes, maybe some corn and watermelons if we have the space for it."

"Whatever you want to plant is fine by me. I'll be happy regardless," you replied brightly before leaning over and pressing a kiss to her face. "They'll be grown with love no matter what they are."

"Oh, my God, you and your stupid puns," she said with feigned exasperation, rolling her eyes playfully at your words. "You're right, though. They'll be grown with love, indeed. The love between the two of us," she added in a playful manner.

You giggled at her addition before nudging her side with your elbow. "You're such a sap."

"Mm, only for you." She moved in closer and gave you a passionate and loving kiss, the lemonade soon left forgotten as you got swept up in the feelings you shared for each other, your wedding bands glistening in the sunlight. Everything would be done with love as long as you and her were together.

End notes: Love's so sweet when she's not murdering people

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | You masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @missmewts @ghot-girl @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @theonetruepotato87 @caplanreblogsfics @samcvrpenters

[dead-dolphins]

Deaddolphins presents:

A heartwarming collection of 17 Christmas drabbles lovingly crafted just for you.❤️

Publication date: from 12/25/2024 to 01/06/25

Drabbles that you will find:

1. THE BEST GIFT OF ALL

Three years into their marriage, Eren is overwhelmed with baby fever, especially during the holidays. This Christmas, Mikasa has a surprise for him: three gifts that might just make his dream come true.

2. SMOOTH CRIMINAL

Eren, an unprofessional and slightly incompetent thief, stumbles into Mikasa's luxurious home while struggling to get his life together. But when he sees her, his priorities shift—now, his only goal is to steal her heart.

3. A FAMILY AFFAIR

Mikasa finally brings her boyfriend, Eren, home to meet her family. Her parents adore him, but Uncle Levi isn’t so easily impressed. Determined to expose Eren, Levi grills him with questions at the dinner table.

4. JINGLE BELLS & BLOOD CELLS

Eren, a Christmas-hating vampire, plans to scare off Mikasa and her orphanage carollers, until her beauty stops him. For the first time in a century, he’s willing to listen to carols if it means she’ll stay.

5. HOMECOMING

After years of being apart, Mikasa stands at the airport, her heart racing as she waits for Eren’s plane to land. She’s spent months, even years, imagining this moment, but now that he is finally here, she’s terrified. What if she has already lost him?

6. RAWR!

Eren and Mikasa are struggling to find the dinosaur toy that their 4-year-old son has been asking for as a Christmas gift the whole year.

7. UNDER THE MISTLETOE

Normie Eren has a crush on his best friend, Goth Mikasa, who feels the same. When their families celebrate Christmas Eve together, Eren tries to kiss Mikasa under the mistletoe, but noisy kids and nosy relatives keep interrupting. Finally, they get their moment.

8. LAST CHRISTMAS I GAVE YOU A CHILD

On Christmas Eve, Eren, Mikasa, and their friends are having a karaoke night. As Mikasa sings Last Christmas, Eren interrupts with their 3-month-old son in his arms, he jokes, “I gave you a child!”

9. OF LONELY HEARTS

Hot Dilf Eren is head over heels for Mikasa, his son/daughter’s kindergarten teacher. Unbeknownst to him, he also takes up most of her mind.

10. THE LUNCH RUN

Mikasa, an office lady, surprises her coworkers when her husband shows up to bring her the lunch she forgot at home. Everyone’s shocked—not just because they didn’t know she was married, but because he’s a... hobo.

11. THE GIRL WITH THE TAIL

Eren, the son of a pirate, dreams of the sea but is stuck ashore. He sneaks onto a fishing boat with Armin’s help and accidentally kills a fisherman while saving a girl. Fleeing, he ends up in Hizuru, where he meets the girl again—now with a tail.

12. PANTS SNATCHED TO SATURN!

Sugar Baby AU. Mikasa is about to give birth on Christmas Eve, and Eren, despite this not being his first time, is panicking—so much so that he forgot to put on his pants!

13. A WOLF'S FIRST SNOWFALL

Yuletide has arrived in the North, and with winter’s chill, the winterlord and his princess wife celebrate their first holiday season with their beloved firstborn.

14. A CHRISTMAS PROPOSAL

Alpha Eren plans the perfect Christmas proposal for Mikasa, his Omega girlfriend of five years, complete with a ring and her favourite scarf. When she unexpectedly comes home early, a near mishap almost ruins the moment.

15. COSY CHAOS

Eren and Mikasa’s first Christmas with their baby, Carla, finds Eren struggling to make something special for their little one.

16. SURPRISE!

The day Athlete Eren found out Mikasa was pregnant with his child was a whirlwind of shock, joy, and overwhelming emotion, changing their lives forever.

17. SWEET NIGHTS

Lord Eren adores his princess wife even more after her baths, as the warmth she enjoys heightens her sensitivity, making their moments together even more intimate.

Thanks so much for participating guys!