#me when I take a lot of time picking out flowers to put in a drawing despite the fact that nobody cares and understands the meanings:

[domesticgoddess22]

wish upon a cowboy

chapter 7: queen - Joel's POV

pairing: raider!joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: A rugged raider takes you under his wing after hunters leave you for dead. The two of you form a team and you quickly grow attached to him–mumbling, grumbling, protective Joel Miller. When you divulge your wishes to experience life before the outbreak, Joel decides to make them come true. All of them.

warnings: age gap (early 20s/mid 40s), praise kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, unplanned pregnancy, unprotected piv, canon-typical violence, light choking, dom!Joel, angst, joel is bad at feelings, drunk sex, pregnancy sex word count: 3.5k words (chapter 7) rating: 18+ explicit MDNI

masterlist | Ao3 | My Booktower @orcasoul @guiltyaschargedmf @idrkman

a/n: I'm posting again this weekend so that we are now caught up with the chapter updates I posted on Ao3. Get ready to meet Bill and Frank, everybody! ~~~~

Joel was starting to notice little things about you. Things you don’t notice about someone unless they were someone that mattered. Like the way you’d stick all of your trash in a little plastic grocery bag instead of tossing it on the ground. As if cleaning up meant a damn. The garbage man wasn’t coming around to pick up shit when the world was the way it was, riddled with the debris of buildings from the early bombings. The world was a graveyard of the fucking undead. Tossing discarded cereal boxes and soup cans into the mix wasn’t going to change that. 

Yet somehow, you still cared about the world and the state it was in. He’d watched you pick up all of your used Campell’s Soup cans and stuff them in a trash bag. You buried them in a ditch by the highway and clapped your hands together, proud of yourself.

“’s the point of that?” Joel frowned at you. You were wasting time cleaning up when the two of you could have been a mile down the highway by now.

“I don’t like tossing trash around if I don’t have to. No reason to make the world messier than it already is.”

“Just ‘cuz we don’t see it don’t mean it’s not there. It’s gonna be in the soil for years to come.” Joel argued.

“This is how they did it before, so it’s how I’m gonna keep doing it. Whether you like it or not.” Arms crossed, you stare up at him. The sun is in your eyes and it’s making your face look more annoyed than you probably are as you squint.

It wasn’t just the garbage thing either. Joel noticed the way you would put effort into other mundane shit, like the way you’d clean up houses you’d crash for the night. Before sitting down to eat, you’d wipe down the table and then place a chipped vase at the center of it, filling it with a branch dotted with little red berries. It’d have to do since flowers weren’t in season, you’d say.

Joel felt dumbfounded that you’d go the extra mile just so you could crack open Chef Boyardee cans that were long since past their expiration date.

It was one thing to play pretend. He liked when the two of you had your imaginary date and role-played that it was 1995 again and everything was fine. He likened it to things like reading or watching a movie. But cleaning up? Decorating? There was no fucking point to that. It was delusional. The world was ugly and it always would be. You wouldn’t be staying in this house tomorrow, and chances are no one would ever again.

“So how long until we get to Bill’s?” You asked as you finished your last ravioli.

It’s been awhile since he saw his friend Bill. An unlikely friend considering how reclusive he was, but Tommy had a way of making friends with anyone. And thank fuck he did, because it saved his ass when a raid had gone bad and left him with a mean knife wound on his side. He still had the scar from that night even though Frank, Bill’s partner, did a hell of a job stitching him back up. 

“‘S not too far from Austin and we’ve been makin’ good time. If everythin’ goes as planned, we should arrive by nightfall tomorrow. ” Joel replied.

“You sure have a lot of friends out in the wild. The Doc that saved me, now Bill and Frank.”

“Not really friends. More like people I’ve done business with once or twice. I scratched their back they scratched mine sort of thing. Tommy was the one who made friends with everybody. Not me.” Bill and Frank never really liked Joel now that he thought about it. It’d be the first encounter he’d have with them without Tommy. He hoped that they’d soften up with him if they saw he was with a woman. “Tommy knows how to make people smile. He’s a good guy.”

“Sounds like Tommy is a pretty cool person to be around. I never saw him around the QZ before. Maybe if I had a friend like him, I would have stayed there a little longer.”

“What made you leave?”

You sighed and he watched your little mouth twist in thought. Strands of your hair fell around your eyes. He fought every instinct to reach out and tuck them behind your ears.

“Nothing. I just didn’t have a reason to stay, and I think that in itself was a reason to leave. I had to see what was out here.”

“I know shit was bad in the QZ, but you were safer in there than you are out here.” Joel’s eyes fell on yours.

“I was alone in there. My parents were executed for leaving when I was a teen, so I lived by myself in one of the apartments. Made a few friends I guess but I wasn’t close with anyone. FEDRA was getting stricter when it came to regulations. Executions became more frequent, officers became more aggressive, curfews were enforced… It just didn’t feel like home. I don’t think it ever was.”

Joel thought back to when you said you slept with an officer to steal his ration cards. He wondered what else you had to go through in a place that didn’t even have enough food for its people.

“When’s the last time you felt like someplace was home?” Joel looked at you, swallowing a lump in his throat and then shifting his attention to his ravioli can. He’d already eaten all of the ravioli, but he scraped his fork along the inner lining and pretended to busy himself with the sauce. There was a part of him that wanted to hear you say that you felt at home now. With him. But that would be fucking stupid.

“I was young when everything went down. Too young to remember much, but I do remember some things. When I was around five, my parents would drop me off at my gram’s house whenever they needed her to babysit. Gram and I would spend the day together and I remember bits and pieces of it, like the way her house smelled like oatmeal cookies because she always had a batch ready for me. That was the last time I remember feeling at home.”

You smiled and Joel felt his heart swell at the sight of you. He liked seeing you happy, but shit, you hadn’t felt at home for twenty years and he hated that.

“I remember watching The Lion King while sitting in her recliner in the living room. I always cried when Mufasa killed Simba’s dad, and Gram would rub my back and say that it’s okay to feel sad when bad things happen.” You said wistfully. “She was right. But fuck, I wish sad things wouldn’t happen. I wish she hadn’t left when she did. The way she did.”

“She was infected?” Joel asked.

“Not with cordyceps.” You shook your head. “Fuckin’ cancer.” 

“Shit. Sorry, darlin’.”

“It’s okay. The way I look at it, she was too good of a soul to have to live through all of this. She left the world when it was the way it should have been and that’s all she’ll ever know of it.” 

You watched Joel quietly as he finished scraping the last remnants of sauce in his can.

“How about you? Did you lose anyone?” Your voice was so gentle and quiet that Joel almost didn’t hear you. He could read your lips in the warm candlelight and see the way your chest expanded slightly. You were nervous. It was probably something you’d been wondering about him for a while and he could tell. It was a normal question anyone might ask nowadays. ‘Who’d you lose?’ or in his case ‘How many did you kill?’

Joel knew he didn’t share much about himself and he wanted to share more with you. To open up to you. He just… couldn’t.

Joel didn’t let himself think about the people from before. He hadn’t said Sarah’s name out loud in probably twenty years. It was easier to just pretend it never happened. That Sarah never happened and therefore she never died. He never held her in his arms and watched the life drain from her body. It. Never. Happened.

The same mindset applied whenever his thoughts would accidentally stray and he’d think about his mom or his dad. He’s stop himself from thinking too much about it. He and Tommy never drove to their house and he never saw them turned.

He flicked his gaze down to his watch, long since broken but he wore it anyway. He didn’t know why, he just did.

“I didn’t have family other than Tommy.” Joel lied. “My parents and I weren’t close. Saw some of my friends and neighbors turned, but not anyone important.”

“I see.” You said softly. “Then it must have been easier for you.”

“Yeah.” He felt strained in his response. This isn’t the direction he wanted the conversation to go.

“So no dead wife then?” You asked, brow arched with the corner of your mouth twisted upward in a way Joel found unbearably sexy.

He laughed.

“No. No wife. I mean, I was married when I was really young, but it was a mistake. We divorced a year later and I was on my own for a while after that. Never had the time to get serious I guess.” Joel left out the part where he was a single dad to their child.

“Can’t say I’m not a little relieved.” You bashfully look away. Joel thinks he sees pink stain your cheeks but it’s hard to say with what little light the candle’s flame has to offer.

“Relieved that ’m not a widow?”

“Yeah. It’d be hard to compete with that if you were still hung up on your dead wife or somethin’.”

“Then I could say the same about you. How do I know you don’t got a boyfriend somewhere?”

“I was five when the outbreak happened, Joel.”

He tuts. “Meant in the QZ.”

“Yeah, and I just left him there so I could explore the world. Because I’m a masochist and like to abandon my lovers like that.”

“Could have been a bad breakup you’re not tellin’ me about.” Joel leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest in a way that strained the fabric of his flannel.

“Can’t breakup when I’ve never had a boyfriend.” You smirked knowing you’d won the little debate. 

Joel stiffened, trying to hide how he felt. Why did it feel good to know you never had a boyfriend? He knew you fucked before, but it wasn’t out of attachment or love, and for some reason that made him swell with hope and maybe a little bit of pride. Or was it possessiveness? He had the opportunity to have something no other man had before, and that was you. Body and soul.

He wanted that with you, but he felt like he didn’t deserve it.

****

There was a chill in the air that made Joel’s joints ache and he could tell you were reaching your limit with hiking. It was close, he just needed to be careful about how he introduced Bill to someone new. He wasn’t a friendly guy, and sure Frank had softened him up a little, but he was still cautious and that’s something Joel needed to plan for.

“Stay close behind me. Don’t stray, don’t wander, don’t make a sound until I tell you to.”

“Okay,” you looked a little worried and Joel hated to scare you. He knew everything would be fine, he just didn’t want to surprise Bill. He had to do this slowly.

“Joel Miller.” A rugged man strolled down the road, armed with his trusty shotgun. His beard was more clean-cut since the first time Joel had seen him. “It’s been a while. Where’s Tommy?”

“Hey, Bill. Tommy’s in Wyoming.”

“Wyoming?” Bill sounds surprised.

“Yeah. ‘M tryin’ to find him.”

Bill narrowed his eyes at that. Bill was always thinking ten steps ahead of everyone. He probably wondered what Joel did to make Tommy leave. Bill didn’t trust Joel, and now knowing that Tommy fled without his brother made Bill inclined to be even more suspicious.

“Why’d he leave ya behind?” Bill asks, not letting his grip off the shotgun.

“We decided to go our separate ways.” Joel said vaguely and Bill gave him a pointed look. “I’m traveling with someone else now.” Joel continues. 

“Who?”

Joel stepped to the side and revealed you. Your baby bump wasn’t visible in with how big the sweatshirt you were wearing was. 

“Hi.” You said softly, eyes darting between the two men.

Bill's eyes widened.

“You know I don’t like new people, Joel.” Bill aimed the barrel at you.

“I know, and I’m sorry. Look we just need a little bit of help and we’ll be on our way.” Joel said pleadingly as he stepped back in front of you. “She’s harmless. Please.”

Bill frowned, looking unconvinced.

“Joel?” Another voice called. It was lighter. Airier. The sound of someone who liked people and didn’t want to shoot them on sight.

“Hey, Frank.” Joel called.

“Long time no see!” Frank singsonged as he approached the fence. “No Tommy?”

“He left. Trying to find him. Could use a little help though, but BIll here doesn’t seem to trust us.”

“Us?” Frank arched a brow.

Joel stepped aside, slower this time. His eyes were locked on Bill’s and his gun. His hand twitched at his side, just inches from his revolver. You were revealed once more and Frank smiled jovially at the sight of you.

“Oh, she is lovely, isn’t she?” Frank turned to Bill and then back to you. “Hey, sweetheart. I’m Frank and this is my partner Bill. It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

“Hi,” you said warily, eyes shifting to the harrowing dark holes at the end of Bill’s gun. 

“I’m sorry about him. Stop it Bill, you’re being dramatic for Christ’s sake. It’s Joel.” Frank rolled his eyes and urged Bill to lower his gun. He obliged.

Joel was grateful for Frank’s existence and he realized he didn’t need Tommy to smooth things over between him and Bill. Frank was enough, at least with you around.

Frank invited the two of you to dine inside for dinner. He’d decorated a table with plates, wine glasses, and flowers. Joel didn’t care for the charades but he put on his best face and tried to be polite. Joel needed their help to make it to Wyoming, and what he was about to ask was going to be a big request.

“It could take us months to make it to Wyoming on foot,” Joel said in a hushed whisper to Bill. You were in the kitchen helping Frank with dinner..”Maybe more if we run into trouble.”

“So you want a car?” Bill says and it’s more of a statement than a question.

“Yes.”

“And what makes you think I’d just give it to you?”

“I’ll pay you back.” Joel tried to channel his brother’s negotiation skills. Joel’s form of negotiating had always been a little… unorthodox. For your sake, he wanted to try to be humane. “Anything you need. You know I can get it done.”

“We have everything we need here. Besides, you’re the one who owes me.” Bill scoffed. “For the stitches.”

“I owe Frank, not you.” 

“Same difference.” Bill contested. “Just because I like Tommy doesn’t mean I have to be nice to you.”

“Look, I can play nice, or I can play nasty. You decide.” Joel was already starting to feel impatient.

Bill slammed a handgun on the table, cocking it but letting his hand rest loosely on the grip. “Don’t threaten me in my own damn house.”

“Get that gun out of my fuckin’ face, Bill.” Joel said through his teeth.

“I never liked you. Only tolerated you for Tommy’s sake and now Frank’s, but I don’t trust you. I know what you’ve done and what guys like you are capable of. Tell me, what are you doing with that girl, hmm? You fuck her?”

“It’s not like that. Look, I know what you’re thinkin’...”

“Do you? Because the way I see it, you’re running around with a girl half your age who looks scared out of her mind. I’m thinking she’s teaming up with you by force, not by choice.” Bill snapped back.

“No, I’m not forcing her to sleep with me, Bill. Jesus Christ. She’s the…” Joel trails off, uncertain if telling Bill about you being pregnant would make matters better or worse. Before he could continue, you and Frank returned. 

“I’m not giving you a fucking car, Joel.” Bill hissed quietly so Frank couldn’t hear.

“Bill, can we please just eat in peace for once without pointing guns at our guests,” Frank griped as he put the last of the spread on the table. A bowl of peas. 

“I know Joel can be grumpy, but he means well,” you say sweetly, filling Bill’s glass with a thirty-year-old bottle of red wine. 

“I’m not pointing my gun at him, it’s flat on the table. The barrel just so happens to be aimed in his direction.” Bill mumbled as he cut across his steak, dipping it in the chimichurri sauce and then stuffing it into his mouth.

“This is probably the best food I’ve ever had. Thank you both.” You looked at Bill and Frank with gratitude. 

“Thank you for coming. We haven’t had guests in months and it’s been quite lonely. We’d love for you to stay the night A few nights if you need to.”

Bill dropped his silverware and exhaled heavily. 

Frank ignored his partner. “We have the rooms to spare. Hot water in the bathrooms too.” 

“Hot water?! That’s incredible!” You were practically radiating with excitement.

“Do you each need your own room?” Frank asked, a smile creeping up on his face. It was a friendly gesture but Joel could tell that he was dying to know what his relationship was with you.

Joel stiffened. Bill’s eyes were on him. “Separate.” 

And as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized he made a mistake. The light in your eyes dimmed just as fast as it had appeared. He had to say it though. Couldn’t let Bill think he was taking advantage of you. He needed him to think that you were just surviving together. No sex. Definitely no baby on the way. It was the best chance at convincing Bill to give him the truck, or some supplies at the very least.

He was doing this for you.

“Thanks for dinner. ‘M gonna go get cleaned up now and head to bed.” Joel nodded once to you. Your eyes shifted downward, avoiding his gaze. He had no idea what you were thinking.

When Joel finished showering, his back was against the stiff quilt of the bed as he looked up at the oakwood ceiling. Muffled piano music filled the silence, and Joel thought it sounded like Bohemian Rhapsody. Thoughts of you stirred through his mind, and shifted to what Bill had accused him of during dinner.

Maybe there was some part of him that did know what he was doing with you that night. He had fucked you raw and spilled himself inside you. Maybe he wanted to get you pregnant. It could be some subconscious part of him that wanted to start over. To make it right. After he failed Sarah, maybe there was a part of him that wanted to prove to himself that he wouldn’t fail again. 

But it was wrong to take advantage of you like that for his own selfish desires. Joel could hear you singing downstairs as Frank played. Your voice was beautiful and it didn’t cease to amaze him how you managed to win over Frank and Bill. There’s no way in hell Bill would have let just Joel come inside.

You were a good girl and all Joel had done to you is ruin your life.

There were other possibilities, right? You did say you wanted kids. It was part of your little bucket list of things you wanted to experience. There could be another subconscious part of him that listened and wanted to make it come true for you. 

The music stopped playing and he heard shuffling in the next room. You were in the room adjacent to him and he wanted nothing more than to feel your skin against his. He wanted to pull you into him and rest his hands on your belly and feel the pulse of something that was his. 

His cock felt heavy in his sweatpants as he thought about you in your pajamas. What you looked like underneath them.

The worst part about this was that even if Joel did get you pregnant on purpose, he felt unapologetic about it. He’d do it again if he had the opportunity. He’d fuck you full.

Bill was right. Joel wasn’t a good man. He was capable of horrible, awful things and this was probably the worst thing he’d done yet. ~~~~ a/n: Thank you for reading and for embarking on this writing journey with me. Also, your comments mean the world to me! <3 Also the next chapter is ready but I have some editing I need to do for it, but I'll try to get it out as soon as I can. masterlist here

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Flower Empowered.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[citrussnap]

Fellas is it gay to tenderly dress your friend's wounds and hold them really closely???

Also btw this art is inspired by a charthur fic love is in the little things by rice_enjoyer!

[sukunasteeth]

Picking You Up From Work

Sukuna leans on the bumper of his Camaro, hoping a drop of rain doesn’t land perfectly on the tip of his cigarette and snuff it out. He’s pretending not to watch the front door of your workplace, like an anxious dog waiting for his owner to come home, but it’s ten minutes past the time you said you’d be out, and he was ready to take you to his apartment and settle down for the night. It had been a long day- he wanted to forget it in the taste of your whimpering on his tongue.

Customers pass him on their way into your workplace. Sukuna wonders briefly what has them whispering to each other and sneaking glances over at him: the nearly sixty year old car or the man covered in tattoos leaning against it?

Fifteen minutes pass before he checks his phone again. It was unlike you to be late, you knew Sukuna had a pet peeve of not being on time and, despite how hairbrained you were, he knew you tried to meet him halfway. Looking over his shoulder, he peeks at the flowers sitting on the passenger seat waiting for you. If he had known you'd be a minute, he would have put a splash of water in the bottom of the flower wrap holding the bouquet together. He clicks his tongue in disappointment, hoping they don’t wilt by the time you get to them.

“I’m sorry, I have to get going-” Your voice chimes through the sound of the rainfall like a cleansing bell, bringing Sukuna’s attention snapping back towards the exit of your work.

You're standing halfway between his car and the building, directly in the middle of the parking lot. A man dressed in a similar uniform to yours is standing a little too close to you for Sukuna’s comfort.

He flicks the ash off of the end of his cigarette and takes a drag.

~

“Are you sure?”

It’s been a long day.

“We could go get some coffee and just hangout for a bit-”

A really long day.

Granted: working customer service you expected long days. Grating days. Days in which you questioned your faith in humanity. But, that all usually ended when you clocked out for the night and headed home. You could easily forget all of it at the door. Tonight, however, the annoyance of having to save face continues.

You had been trying to give this guy a hint all day as he followed you around, desperate to catch your attention and doing anything to gain a brownie point. It was really starting to tick you off.

Not only that, you knew Sukuna was waiting for you somewhere in the parking lot and it was only a matter of time before this man was decapitated before your very eyes.

Dammit, you just wanted to go home.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I’ve got someone waiting for me. Have a good night!” You try to wave him off, offering a polite smile before you turn your back to him.

"Who's waiting for you?" Sam calls out, still not catching the hint.

Before you can reply, a hand reaches around your waist, securing you to a familiar side- but you've been on edge all day, just waiting for your coworker to make one bold wrong move. On instinct, you snatch the wrist at your hip with a deathgrip before realization is able to save you.

Your eyes whip up to meet Sukuna's smirking gaze, his smile flashing into that serpentine grin that makes your fight or flight mode go off.

"Ohoho-" He chuckles, and there’s a mischievous darkness lurking beneath it. 

"'Kuna!" You ease your grip immediately, cradling his hand in sympathy. Part of you is instantly relieved he’s here to sweep you away, and the other part is sweating over how he’s going to handle this situation.  

Sukuna could be a bit possessive. 

"Good grip." He purrs, snatching up your own hand instead and continuing his original plan of tucking you securely into his side. "You turned your back to the scum bag, though." He tsks quietly. "My brat should know better."

Sukuna easily turns the both of you around, lifting you slightly to move without tripping you. You’re forced to face your coworker once again, although you notice that your unease has dissipated with Sukuna next to you now. 

“Is this...? A-Are you guys…” Sam sneers at Sukuna's sudden appearance, his poorly shaven lip curling up in disgust. 

Sukuna merely hums in response, “Every night while you’re wet dreamin’ about it.”

“S-Sukuna!” You interrupt, squeezing his fingers. Heat burns in your ears and you can feel them going pink under Sam’s now incredulous stare. “Is… my… yes.” You finish quietly, trying to avoid either one of the men watching you. Letting people into your personal life was not something you liked to do, even though you're sure your fiance would love it if you screamed it from the rooftops.

“Aw,” Sukuna makes a fond, sentimental noise and you press your elbow into his rib cage when you hear a mischievous lilt to his tone. 

“You and this guy?” Sam gives Sukuna an obvious once over, crossing his gangly arms over his chest in disapproval. “He’s not even your type!”

Oh.

Maybe this guy deserved a good beating.

Even you were too afraid to look at your fiance at that moment, you could tell by the look on Sam’s face that Sukuna wasn’t happy. 

The scariest part about Sukuna getting angry, was the lack of reaction. There was no glaring. No muscles going rigid. No shouting. There was only this overwhelming sense of danger, like a prey animal realizing it was about to meet its predator. 

Sam tries to fix it, sensing the murderous intent hanging in the air, but his ego still tries to bite: “Look, dude, I don’t mean any harm. I just think she needs a gentleman.”

…

Now that piques your interest.

You need a gentleman?

You almost completely forget about Sukuna for a moment, your head snapping in your coworker's direction with breakneck speed. 

“Gentleman?” You repeat, scoffing. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve been breathing down my neck like a fucking animal in heat all day. Practically begging for half a second of female attention in any form you can get it and you’re standing here-after trying to follow me to my car like some fucking pervert- and you’re trying to tell me you’re a gentleman?”

When you try to take a step forward, you're reminded of Sukuna's unrelenting grip on your hip bone, holding you in place.

“Calm down- all I wanted to do was walk you to your car.” Your ill-favored coworker rolls his eyes, although you can sense his discomfort in the way he takes a few steps away from you. His ego speaks again, and you see red. “You don’t have to be such a bitch about it.” 

What.

“Alright, alright” Sukuna is shoving something cold and jagged into your hands, distracting the sudden confused rage that washes over you. Before you can expel it, he unfastens his hand from around your waist and nudges you in the direction behind him. “Go start the car.”

You blink up at him, taken back by the entire situation. His keys dangle in your frozen fingers, clinking together. 

Sukuna knows you're mad. Knows the only thing on your mind is curb stomping the man in front of you. And you know he won't let you get anywhere near that.

“Come on, Duckie.” He purses his lower lip in a mock pout when you don't turn to leave immediately. There’s something dark glittering behind the faux playfulness in his eyes, reassuring you that nobody was going to get off easy, asking you politely to turn your gaze from what he was about to do.

His calloused thumb sweeps over your fingertips, gliding over the deep red nail polish there. The kiss he presses against your knuckles is one meant for royalty. Soft and sweet. And incredibly persuasive. “I just got these nails done. Lemme keep ‘em pretty for ya.” 

~

When Sukuna opens the driver side door and slides in, fifteen minutes have passed. There’s a smear of blood on his cheek that matches the one on his knuckles, the red catches his eye in the review mirror. He licks his finger, using his spit to try and wipe it off before he turns to meet you, smiling sweetly. 

“What should we get for dinner?"

[myfandomrealitea]

I know there's a lot of advice for handling things like depression and its so fucking easy for people to say "just do this and you'll feel better!" and I hate that, I fucking despise it, but I'm also gonna throw in my two cents about what is personally helping me get out of bed some days and genuinely, not kill myself.

Its taking care of nature.

Seriously. It sounds stupid and some days it feels stupid, but I put up bird feeders because I live in a semi-rural area where human activity is decimating the local bird population and options for safe feeding. So I put up bird feeders. And now I have like 83 different birds flocking to my garden on the daily and screaming at my window if the feeders are empty. And I've seen generations of baby birds brought to my garden by their parents because this is where the food is.

And I researched what plants and flowers were native to my area and I spent like $5 on a few different seed packets and sprinkled them around the grass and the sad empty flowerbeds and the lawn because the bees have nothing to eat and that's awful and it turns out wildflowers will fucking GROW the moment you look away, but now every spring and summer my lawn is a pretty little multi-colored bug haven.

And I've even gotten the chance to save a few little bug lives because of it. I've taken in cold-shocked bees and given them a warm little tupperware to recover in. I've fed bugs sugar water to get their energy back to take their food home. I've given dying bugs a sheltered, safe place to spend their last moments.

I planted a veggie garden. And I know I'm very lucky in that I have the space to do that, but also, you can grow a lot of things indoors. My friend has literally the smallest apartment you can imagine but she grows chives in her bathroom and grows five radishes at a time in a pot in the kitchen. Literally five. But it makes her so happy every single time she pulls them up or trots off to the bathroom to snip some chives.

I pick trash up every two weeks. The pick stick was like $4 online and I just put the bag out with my bi-weekly trash pick-up and its disgusting but but nobody else is gonna do it and I've only got finite time on this earth. If nobody else is going to pick up that can, I will. Because some innocent wild animal doesn't deserve to get hurt by human ignorance, and I deserve to walk home and see pretty flourishing nature instead of depressing discarded trash like I feel like most days.

I've left water out for the wildlife and watched hedgehogs, local dogs on their walks, squirrels and all sorts stop by to take a drink, because humans are fucking selfish and we're making something as basic as water so hard to access for anyone but ourselves, but I can fix a little bit of that just by putting out a bowl. Sometimes I don't even have to remember to fill it because the rain will fill it for me, and its kind of like nature's way of saying "you're helping me so I'm going to help you out too." Which is neat.

Like most days I do not want to be living on this earth but my god earth did not get a choice about us living here, and we're ruining it, and it actually feels so good to help stop and un-do a little bit of that destruction.

And you don't even have to try everything I do. If the only thing you've got the spoons to do is buy one bird feeder and you only remember to fill it once a month, its still something. That once a month could mean the difference between starvation and a full belly to a bird.

Again, none of this is obligatory and I'm not saying at all this is some magical cure for depression, but personally these things are things which are helping me slowly find things to keep getting out of bed for and things to feel a sense of self worth and satisfaction over. I feel better both in and about myself when I feed the birds, when I see the bugs in the garden, when I pick up the trash.

If its something you haven't considered yet, it might be worth a try.

[midnightwriter21]

demon slayer hcs: the hashira men as boyfriends

characters: tengen, sanemi, giyuu, rengoku, muichiro, obanai

AN: i don’t write for gyomei srry

TENGEN

- this isn’t just a little fling

-mans doesn’t wanna be ur bf

-he wants to be your HUSBAND

- and he’s gonna make that happen ASAP

- and when y’all get married you’re not just getting a husband

- ur getting 3 wives too

- it’s a package deal

- overprotective!!

- the way he made his wives promise to prioritize their lives over the mission

- my heart was bursting

- carries u around

- when tengen is around ur feet hardly ever touch the floor

- doesn’t matter how big or tall u are

- he’s bigger and taller

-he's big all over if ykyk

-nicknames include: sweetheart, princess, baby

- and don’t think he’s saying those to be cute

- he’s absolutely mocking you

-which brings me to…

- this man teases the HELL out of you

- but with love

- he loves you just as much as he loves his wives

- in his mind ur alrdy married

- and he is NOT letting you go

- or letting any harm come to you as long as he can help it

- 4 lifer fr

- id marry him

SANEMI

-i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again

-he’d tear it UP

-and i’d let him

- loves you so much

- doesn’t show it in public

- but in private?

- clingy as fUck

- he’s like ur shadow fr

- will follow u around all day

- hands on ur waist

- arm around ur shoulder

- holding ur hand

- he will not let go of u when ur alone

- in public he’s a lot less touchy

- but he will still stand near you

- jealous af

- every slayer knows by now to stay tf away from you or face the wrath of the wind pillar

- you belong to him

- makes sure they know it

- makes sure you know it

-hickey MASTER

-no i will not elaborate

- everybody knows sanemi is a little rough around the edges

- so there are days when it’s hard for him to open up to you

- but he does try

- he’s got a reputation to keep up!

-gotta act tough

-no weaknesses!!

- except for u

-he’s so soft for u he can’t help it

- nicknames: dumbass, idiot, & feather (my personal favorite)

-like i said he is almost always physically connected to u in some way when ur alone

-ignore him? he's throwing u over his shoulder

-he's strong he can manhandle u all over the place

-sheeeeeshhhhh manhandle me however u want sir

-claims ur super light no matter ur size

-hence the nickname "feather"

-i love him

GIYUU

-ik damn well this man had EVERONE in a chokehold from the first second he showed up

-speaking of chokeholds... ;)

-put me in one pls sir

-anyways

-awkward as fuck

-but he tries for u

-terrible with physical affection

-but we all know he's SOOO touch starved

-you'll have to initiate any type of physical touch

-and make sure he's not uncomfortable

-but really there's nothing he wants more than to touch you

-takes a very long time to say "i love you"

-but can u blame him??

-every good thing the poor man has ever had has been ripped away from him :(

-because of this he's veryyyy protective

-cause he'll be damned if the last person he has that accepts him and loves him for all he is

-is hurt or killed

-100% will die for u without a second thought

-not really a nickname type of guy

-remember he's awkward as hell

-most you'll get is a "-chan" attached to ur name

-and even that is only when y'all are alone

-but still

-even if he doesn't always show it

-you are always on his mind

-he's on a mission and walking through a market?

-he's buying you a hairpin or som

-walking through a forest and sees some flowers?

-"i wonder if she'll like these"

-AND HE'S PICKING U A BOUQUET

-ugh soft for bf giyuu

RENGOKU

-sunshine boy!!!

- epitome of golden retriever boyfriend

-all smiles all the time

-follows u around like lost puppy

-shows off for u

-yk when ur around kids and they're like "watch this" and then they jump and spin a circle lmao

-thats him

-"did you see what i just did?!"

-if u didnt...

-he's doing it again

-wants to impress you so bad

-also you will never have to lift a finger in his presence

-service bf!!

-you need the dishes washed and the floor swept?

-he's on it

-you need help styling ur hair?

-welcome to rengoku's hair salon

-will attempt to dress you in the morning

-and by dress you, i mean he's tugging ur shirt over ur head

-zipping up ur pants

-and tying ur shoes

-brags about you to anyone and everyone

-the other hashira can't have a single conversation with him without him bringing you up somehow

-compliments compliments compliments!!!

-he loves you and isn't afraid to show it

-nicknames from him: my love, my beautiful girl, sweetheart

-constantly confessing his love

-also lowkey speaks poetry for u

-some shit like

-"my light in the darkness, the one who gives me strength, you set my heart ablaze just by allowing me the privilege of seeing your smile"

-ugh he's the sweetest baby

MUICHIRO

-my airheaded angel baby

-i love him sm stop

-baby boy has a terrible memory

-that we alrdy knew

-but!

-he tries so hard for you

-keeps a little journal with notes and information about you

-so if he forgets he can remind himself over and over

-when he's on missions away from you he reads it so he can think about you to pass the time

-can not and will not remember anniversaries

-unless they're written in that journal

-will pick u flowers

-hope ur not allergic cause he's not gonna remember that

-but it's the thought that counts

-the fact that he's thinking about you at all counts

-you wanna go on a date?

-your dates consist of watching the clouds and taking naps together

-maybe a picnic if ur lucky

-no nicknames from him

-he calls you by your name

-its all he can remember

-he's the cutest

OBANAI

-like sanemi, he's a lot less affectionate in public

-however, he's not afraid to express his thoughts about you

-at least not to the other hashira

-might not be glued to your side

-but he's got eyes on u at all times

-and someone is talking about you?

-the second he hears ur name leave somebodies mouth

-he's tuned in

-and they better not say anything negative either

-mans turns murderous

-they will wake up to a snake in their bed

-will prob threaten them within an inch of their life

-don't have to worry abt other people while he's around

-cause he's got everything

-and i mean EVERYTHING taken care of

-protective but not pushy

-i feel like obanai trusts you and your ability to handle yourself

-but thats not gonna stop him from watching over you

-you're not drinking enough water?

-here comes obanai with a cup and u better drink it all

-haven't had lunch yet?

-he's sharing his with you. and will force feed u if need be.

-on a mission with him?

-he's not gonna push u behind him or anything

-but nothing is gonna get the chance to bring any harm to you either

-he's got ur back

-he's pretty vanilla with the nicknames

-nothing too crazy

-especially in public

-mostly uses ur first name

-might add a "-chan" in there every once in a while

-when ur alone he'll call you "sweetie"

-acts like a hard ass

-but he's soft for u

[thediaryofaurora]

ticci toby nsfw headcanons 😭🤲 can’t express how much i love your hc’s bro its so good 🥹💗 pls keep cooking

☆Ticci Toby Relationship HCs☆

CW: NSFW, f!reader

THANK YOU SO MUCH! This ask single-handedly brought me out of my writing slump. I went ahead and added SFW dating HCs as well, a little bonus 🙌 Also I’m in a leg brace from soccer so I’m stuck in bed.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

★SFW★

- This guy has got a LOT on his mental plate, be prepared for that.

- He is 100% a friends to lovers type of guy. He’s not easily trusting, so that relationship really has to be built up.

- When he does have a crush on someone he beats himself up about it because he feels so stupid for thinking you’d ever like him back.

- Moving onto actually dating him, he is so so so insecure. Lots of reassurance is needed, but if you’re able to get through to him he eventually realizes you actually like him.

- Crazy touch starved. In the first few months of dating he’s super unsure of if he can kiss you or even put his arm around you, he’s HORRIFIED of crossing any boundaries and you leaving. You’ll probably have to make the first move.

- He most likely won’t be the one to ask you out. If you’ve known eachother for a while and he’s feeling a little confident there’s a possibility, but in his mind he’d rather stay friends and get to see you rather than get rejected and you not talk to him anymore.

- LOVES going on dates with you, but he’s a ball of anxiety. It should be easy to cool him down and let him know you’re enjoying it, he’s just so worried about if you’re happy or not.

- Usually thinks going on walks or sitting on a curb together is like the perfect date, ESPECIALLY in the fall. He keeps an old camera on him that he got from Brian so he can make little home videos and capture the moments you spend together.

- Picks up cool leaves, glass shards, or other things left in the forest and makes sure to show you.

- He’s actually not an awful cook. He’s a fast learner in pretty much every aspect and he already knows the basics. His mom taught him when he was young how to make some baseline German dishes, and this man can WHIP that shit up.

- Once you two are to the point in your relationship where you can cuddle, he is ALL OVER YOU. Especially when it’s raining/ thundering out and you two can lay in bed together. Since he overheats easily due to his CIPA, in the colder seasons you’ll have to leave the window open so he can stay cool.

- After seeing how his dad treated his mom, he has a pretty good grasp on how to treat a partner. At times he can fly off the handle, especially with his bipolar disorder, but afterwards he breaks down and apologizes. If at any point you even SEEM like you don’t like him anymore he gets defensive, it makes him very standoffish or snappy.

- Won’t shut up about you after you start dating. Not in a rambling way, but he finds a way to bring you up in every conversation. He doesn’t meant to, but how could he go without telling someone you’d like the flower he just walked by?

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

✩NSFW✩

- VIRRRRGINNNNNNNN.

- I mean VIRGIN virgin, like this guy has had NO activity. No first kiss either. All the knowledge he has is from porn, so he’s completely clueless. If you’re both inexperienced you’ll just have to persevere.

- He’s the kind of person to get turned on looking at a picture of you fully clothed, he’s just so in love with you.

- Before you two start dating he’s 100% taking candid pictures of you or finding your instagram posts and jacking off to them.

- Massive bottom. He puts out a front for a WHILE before you’ll be able to realize he’s not a top, he doesn’t want to look like a sissy. If you suggest being on top he’s BLOWN AWAY. Acts like he’s just doing whatever you want, but afterwards you definitely realize he’s been waiting for it.

- Sensitive as hell. He’s a loud one, but again he doesn’t want to look weak or not masculine enough. He tries to hold his moans and whimpers back and grunt instead, but if you do it just right he’s a whimpering, whining, PANTING, mess. Kiss his neck? He’s rock hard. Even if you’re just giving him a hickey he’s whimpering and bucking his hips into you.

- Tits man 100%. Doesn’t matter what size, the fact that they’re there is enough. When you’re on top of him he prefers for you to face him so he can watch them bounce. When he’s on top he’s usually in missionary so he can still see them.

- Hair pulling kink, specifically his. He can’t feel the pain, but the yank drives him CRAZY.

- Big on oral. Giving or receiving, he doesn’t care. If he’s giving he prefers for you to sit on his face, but he’d never admit that.

- His favorite place to do it is tight spaces. Closets, cars, narrow alleyways. Especially if it adds to the thrill of getting caught.

- STAMINA. He cums crazy fast, but he’s definitely able to make up for it with how many rounds he can go. Even if he came a few minutes ago, it’s already up and ready to go again.

- Likes to have music playing in the back while you do it. He probably already made a playlist the second you started dating, but if you ever want to choose the music he doesn’t mind.

- At first he’s self conscious about his abilities, but after some time and seeing how good you feel he’s a cocky motherfucker. Slyly grinning and looking at you all worn out after a few rounds boosts his ego to the moon.

- Dim lighting all the way. He wants to be able to see you, but he feels too exposed when it’s too bright.

- Not completely opposed to a threesome, it depends on who it is. He’s more protective than possessive, so if he trusts the person enough he’d be okay with it. If it had to be anyone in the mansion it would probably be Cody or Liu, but he’d make sure you’re okay with it.

- Rabid horny teenager.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

[headkiss]

it’s christmas (this is gonna be a nightmare)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve puts a little too much pressure on himself to make this holiday a magical one. or: 4 times steve messes up your first christmas together, +1 time it's perfect.

word count: 7.4k

content: established relationship, one injury (no blood!), some kisses, a lot of steve's thoughts, and a love confession <3 fluff all around!!!

a/n: a full length fic!! it's a christmas miracle!! thank you to the anon who sent the ask that inspired this fic and to all of u for being here. i love u, happy holidays <3

⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇

Steve Harrington doesn’t know too much about what exactly a perfect Christmas looks like. He has his parents to thank for that.

What he does know is that this year has to be just that: perfect. Because this year he has you.

Though you went to high school together, you and Steve properly met in the summer. Right at the beginning of it, where the evenings still have a chill of wind but the sun cuts through it with welcomed warmth. Robin convinced him to take her to the flower shop just outside of town, and you’d been behind the counter to greet them.

Robin recognized you, and she chatted your ear off while you helped her pick a bouquet with the sweetest smile Steve had ever seen and he felt like an absolute moron for never having noticed you before at school. But he noticed you then.

He’d forced Robin to wait for him in the car while he stayed back, bought you your own bouquet of flowers from the store as if you weren’t the one who’d made them, and asked you on a date. Steve fumbled the whole way through, pricking himself with a rose thorn and cussing mid-sentence, but you still said yes.

You’ve been together ever since, and Steve feels incredibly lucky for it. Lucky for how kind you are, how well you fit in with his friends, how much the kids (Max, especially, though he won’t call her out on it) like you. Lucky for being allowed to grab your hand, to kiss you whenever he wants.

And, on the nights you stay over that grow more frequent with each month, lucky to have you fill the space in the Harrington home that usually feels so cold and empty.

So, maybe the holidays make him extra sentimental, maybe he cares a little too much about making sure it’s the best damn Christmas you could have. Maybe, for once, he’s actually looking forward to it all.

Robin startles him into the present — leaning on the counter at Family Video — with a stiff poke to the cheek. “Dude, I can literally tell you’re thinking about her by the look on your face. It’s kinda gross.”

He scoffs at her, even though he probably was making a face. “Sounds like jealousy to me, Buckley.”

“Shut up, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even know each other! I deserve compensation.”

Steve hangs his head dramatically. Robin is never letting that go. Ever.

“My friendship isn’t enough for you?” Steve says, placing a hand over his heart, “You wound me.”

“You annoy me,” she says, flicking his arm.

“Ow- whatever. You’ll be free of me in like five minutes.”

Steve checks his watch just to be sure. Robin’s closing by herself today, and while Steve would normally just stay and bother her anyways, he’s got plans that involve you and takeout and napping together on his couch.

As if the thought conjures it, you walk through the door, the bell jingling cheerily above your head, Steve’s car keys dangling from your fingertips. (Yes, he lets you drive the BMW.)

“Thank God,” Robin says when she sees it’s you. “Please get rid of him, he’s getting on my nerves.”

You smile and walk towards Steve, who immediately tosses an arm over your shoulders and pulls you in close, stamping a kiss to the side of your head.

You turn your head to the side and look at him, “What did you do?”

Steve gasps, “Me? Honey, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

You send him a wink, and Steve grins. He fucking loves having you with him, being able to speak without speaking. Your hand grabbing his and squeezing says I missed you, his squeezing back says me too.

“Okay, please remove your public displays of affection from the store and leave me alone with the overplayed Christmas song radio station, thank you.” Robin announces.

“Don’t miss me too much, Robs. I know it’ll be tough,” Steve says, guiding you forward.

“Good to see you, Robin!” you wave on your way out.

“You too!” And just before the door closes behind you, Robin’s voice rings out; “You’re my favourite half of the relationship!”

Your smile widens. Steve is the best thing that’s happened to you, and his friends becoming yours is one of the greatest bonuses you could ask for. It’s like his life made room for you as simply as the ocean’s tide pulls in and out. Gentle and certain.

He catches the keys when you toss them to him, and Steve’s mood just seems to lift and lift on the drive back to his place with you in the passenger seat, Christmas lights lining the streets glowing on your cheeks.

Yeah, he thinks, this Christmas is going to be perfect.

-

1.

That weekend Steve calls you and tells you to be ready by noon and to dress warmly. He doesn’t tell you much else besides his usual ‘see you soon, honey’ or ‘miss you’ murmured sweetly through the phone.

As instructed, you’re dressed in a pair of jeans and one of your favourite knitted sweaters, your brown leather jacket overtop and socked feet stuffed into your Doc Martens. Though you feel plenty warm, Steve will probably fuss over you and hold you close for body heat anyways. And, well, you’d never be opposed to that.

Steve’s BMW rolls into your driveway exactly one minute past twelve, and by the time you walk outside to meet him, he’s already standing on the passenger side of the car waiting to open the door for you.

“Always a gentleman,” you say, kissing him quickly on the cheek.

You slide into the seat that’s become yours for the most part, and Steve ducks down to kiss you properly on the mouth before pulling back, “Mm maybe not always.”

He closes your door and you laugh lightly, your face a little warm even though he’s been your boyfriend for months now. You don’t think you’ll ever be unaffected by Steve Harrington’s charm, ever be used to it being aimed at you.

Of course, you knew of him in school, but knowing the real thing, the kind, caring boy who’d been buried under King Steve back then, is probably the greatest gift you’ve ever had.

Steve drives with one hand just above your knee, his thumb running back and forth over the stitching in your jeans. Still, he doesn’t tell you where he’s taking you, his only hint was to “pay attention to the radio station.”

It’s playing Christmas music. Like that narrows things down a whole bunch.

You chat the entire way. Steve asks you how the flower shop is doing (“Poinsettias are flying off the shelves”), you ask him who he got for the group’s secret Santa this year (“Max. I’m going to need your assistance”). It’s so easy to talk to him, to laugh and joke and not have to worry about what you say or how you come off.

You never knew being with someone could be so easy until Steve.

Eventually, he pulls into the long driveway of a farm. A Christmas tree farm, to be exact, if the wooden arch you drive through is to be trusted.

“What are you planning, Harrington?”

He shrugs, his hand squeezing your knee, “Thought we could pick out a tree together. Put it up at the house. My parents aren’t gonna be around — shocker, I know — I figured we’d do it together. Make it our own.”

Steve pats your leg before letting it go and putting the car in park, his palms dragging over his thighs like he’s suddenly nervous.

“Our first Christmas tree,” you say quietly, almost to yourself, a smile creeping onto your face. He really is sweet. “I love it. Let’s go adopt a tree, Stevie.”

He flashes you a smile before getting out and jogging around the hood to open your door for you. You’ve learned to wait for him to do it since you’ve been together. The last time you tried to open your own door he made you close it again just so he could be the one to open it.

Before, you’d never really cared about that sort of thing, but Steve has single-handedly raised your expectations.

He grabs your hand and leads you towards the classic red and white barn, following the signs painted simply with a tree and an arrow pointing you in that direction.

When you turn the corner and see the selection of trees, however, Steve pauses.

There are maybe seven trees left, none of which are very impressive upon first glance. Their branches are skinny and the pine needles leave a lot of space to see through them. It’s safe to say these aren’t the Christmas trees Steve was hoping to surprise you with.

He was sure there’d be something better left, at least. And he’d been wrong. Minus a point on that perfect Christmas, he supposes.

Still, he walks you to the selection, the farm’s employee greeting the two of you as you walk up; “Hey y’all. Good afternoon!”

“Hey man,” Steve starts, “you wouldn’t happen to have any more trees left, would you?”

“Sorry folks, this is all we’ve got. Most people like to get ‘em early.”

Steve’s hope dwindles, and you can see him deflate a little bit.

You, however, don’t mind one bit. You tug on his arm to get his attention, and Steve turns to look at you, brown eyes shining like honey in the sunlight. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “Even the little trees need homes, right?”

He shakes his head with a small smile. It’s cute, he thinks, the way you tend to talk about plants as if they have feelings. You do it when you tell him about the flowers you sell, too.

“Right as usual, honey,” he decides. “Pick your favorites.”

So, you wind up with two small Christmas trees rather than one full one, and there’s a small victory in it when you and Steve strap them both to the top of the BMW without too much of a struggle.

Another victory when you sing along to ‘Last Christmas’ and hold out your fist as if there’s a microphone in your grip to get him to join you. Admittedly, it isn’t a very good rendition, but Steve loves it all the same.

You have a way of turning things around for him, even without knowing it.

When you get back to Steve’s, he brings both of the trees inside and sets them up before bringing down the bins of ornaments and lights from the attic. He only shouted once when a spider crawled over his hand.

Having two trees makes it easy to turn decorating into a lighthearted competition. You both claim one as your own and decorate them with string lights and tinsel and ornaments. Steve’s mom would probably have an aneurysm seeing them used so haphazardly.

Though by the end, your tree is definitely prettier, Steve still feels like he’s won something as you lean your back against his chest and his arms cross over your own, keeping you there.

As a kid, he wasn’t even allowed to do the decorating. Mrs. Harrington had to make everything look picture perfect, and Steve’s hands didn’t help with that. Not according to her.

Today couldn’t feel more different from those memories of his childhood.

“Yours is better,” he tells you, chin perched on your shoulder, his voice low in your ear.

Objectively, it probably is better (your prior experience with arranging plants was an advantage), but you don’t actually care about that.

Today felt like a little glimpse into the future you and Steve could have. It’s easy to picture it: your own apartment, buying decorations you both actually like, setting it all up together every year.

“I think they’re both brilliant,” you say.

And while today wasn’t what he was picturing, wasn’t what he’d hoped for with his ideal holiday in mind, Steve finds that he can certainly live with that. Your adorable little clap when you’d finished decorating was enough to cement it.

It’s only one thing. He’s got plenty of chances to be perfect later, he guesses.

Steve dips his head and kisses the top of your shoulder over your sweater.

-

2.

You stay over at Steve’s that weekend. You’re both off work, and you find yourself spending your days (and nights) off with Steve more and more.

In the morning, you blink your eyes open slowly, naturally. No alarm set, your boy wrapped around you. It’s how you’ll spend every morning someday.

The sunlight sneaks through a crack in the curtains, cutting a line across Steve’s blue bedding. You squint at it, shifting onto your back gently. Steve’s arm remains slung over your waist as you move, his knee against your leg. You roll your head to the side to look at him, a smile creeping over your mouth at the way his cheek is smushed into the pillow, his lips pouting and hair a mess over his forehead.

Mornings have easily become your favorite time to spend with Steve. He’s cuddling you in some way every single time without fail, even when he wakes up. His voice is all low and gravelly from sleep and it feels like an honor to get to be the one to hear it like that. Usually, you spend an hour in bed with him after waking up. Laying together, talking, kissing. Sometimes (often) more.

You’d stay put right now if you didn’t have to pee so bad.

Slipping out of bed without Steve noticing proves a challenge, his arm tightens over you in his sleep, his brows scrunching. You whisper a soft “I’ll be right back.” He mumbles something incoherent, but his arm relaxes and you’re able to sneak away.

On your way back from the bathroom, you pause and take a peek out the window. You gasp happily at what you see: snow. A bright, white layer blanketing the ground sparkling in the sunlight.

You turn back to the bed and let yourself fall to it with a bounce, earning another grumbled protest from Steve, but there’s no way you’re going back to sleep now. You trail a hand up his arm to his shoulder, giving it a small shake, “Stevie, wake up.”

“Hm?” his eyes scrunch before opening. “What happened, honey?”

“It snowed!”

“Yeah?” he huffs a laugh at your excitement, his hand searching for yours in the sheets.

“Yeah, and it’s so pretty. We should go out before it melts.”

“It’s winter, sweetheart. Not gonna melt that fast.”

“Steve.”

“Okay, okay,” his hand leaves yours in favor of wrapping itself around you again, and he uses it to tug you close again. “Just five more minutes.”

His nose is pressed to the top of your head, and he breathes you in, smiling to himself. Mornings are Steve’s favorite, too. Only when they’re spent with you.

Secretly, he’s also happy about the snow. He was hoping mother nature would be on his side so that he could check yet another holiday item off his list with you. Hopefully one that will turn out nicer than the tiny trees you’d ended up with.

It’s definitely more than five minutes by the time you get Steve to get up and out of bed. You attempt to get him outside right away. He stops you with a: “No snow-related activities on an empty stomach!”

So, it’s a rushed breakfast of bagels and coffee provided by Steve, and then you’re gearing up and heading into the back yard.

The cold bites at your cheeks, and the tip of Steve’s nose is pink within minutes, but you love it.

There’s a snowman built together, snow angels made that get ruined when Steve rolls himself on top of you and steals a kiss or five. Naturally, all there is left to do is have a snowball fight.

You start it when you’re still on the ground, a hand sneaking into the snow to grab a handful and pressing it to the back of Steve’s head. He gasps, and you take the opportunity to push him to the side and get up.

“No fair!” he calls. “I was distracted and you went for the hair.”

“Your fault for not wearing a hat, babe,” you laugh.

“Oh, you won’t be laughing for long, honey. You’re in for it.”

And just like that, you’re running around like kids in a schoolyard, hiding behind trees, slugging snowballs at each other and cheering when you manage to not miss.

Steve silently thanks mother nature or the universe or whatever made it snow for the wide smile on your face, your eyes shining with mirth.

At one point, you’re suddenly distracted by something in the trees, and the snowball is out of Steve’s hand before he sees you start to look towards him again.

It hits you square in the face.

A quick “Ow” comes out of your mouth, though it really doesn’t hurt that bad. Your first reaction is just to let it slip, but Steve’s heart sinks to his stomach.

“Shit, honey.” He runs over to you and cups your face in his hands, his mittens soft against your skin as he brushes the snow from your face. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t tryin’ to get you in the face.”

Minus another point, for sure. Perfect Christmas: -2.

“I know, don’t worry,” you tell him, because he clearly is worrying.

“You okay?” he checks. He literally winces when you sniffle, frowns when he sees the way your eyes water. “Honey. I’m sorry.”

“Honestly, Steve, I’m fine,” you reach up and grab his wrists, squeezing them over his jacket. “I’m only crying ‘cause it got my nose. It doesn’t actually hurt.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you assure him. “Didn’t you used to play sports in school? Thought athletes had better aim.”

“I was a swimmer, baby. No projectiles involved.” He smiles softly when you laugh, but he can’t stop himself from asking one more time. “You’re really not hurt?”

“It’s just a bit of snow, Stevie.”

His eyes run over your face anyway before he nods. Then, he dips forwards and lightly kisses your cheek, the other, the tip of your nose, and your mouth.

“Well now I’m certainly all better,” you say against his lips.

Steve pulls back but doesn’t go far. “I think this snowball fight is over.”

“Buzzkill,” you tease.

He bends down and picks up a handful of snow before shoving it in his own face.

“Steve!” you laugh.

“There, now we’re even,” he says, snowflakes clinging to his lashes.

You let him lead you inside after that, his arm draping over your shoulders, yours hugging his middle as you walk across the yard.

Once you’ve both shed your layers of coats and boots and hats and mittens, Steve takes you upstairs and runs you a bath to warm you up. He apologizes another two times when he looks at your face for too long, and you have to kiss him to stop him uttering another ‘sorry.’

Hell, if it’s gonna make him this sweet on you, you’d probably take a snowball to the face any day.

Eventually, when the bathtub is full, a layer of bubbles over the surface, you coax Steve into joining you. He leans against the side with you between his knees, back settling into its home against his chest, his chin resting atop your head.

Steve runs his hands over your shoulders, presses kisses into your hair. All along he’s reminding himself that the next thing will go right. He won’t be throwing anything, at least.

-

3.

The next weekend Steve calls you again. He asks you to be ready in the evening this time, but still keeps things vague other than the fact that you’ll be outside and need thick socks.

You have a pretty good idea of what he has in mind, but he’d called it a ‘redemption date’ over the phone and even though you truly don’t think he has anything to redeem himself for, you don’t want to spoil his plans, so you play along.

He comes to the front door when he picks you up this time, knocking gently as if you hadn’t been waiting for him by the windows.

“Hi, honey,” he drops a quick kiss to your lips, “had to come and approve your outfit. Don’t want you getting cold and stealing my jacket again.”

He’s lying, really. Steve fucking loves draping his own jacket over your shoulders and seeing you pull it tighter around you. When that happens, he braves the cold, but he figures that probably won’t be smart for spending hours outside.

“Aww, but yours is so much warmer than mine,” you pout jokingly.

Steve simply grabs your thickest jacket from a hook by the door and holds it out for you to slip your arms into.

As suspected, he drives you to a skating rink. He chose one a town over from Hawkins, where they have twinkle lights strung above the rink and rainbow Christmas lights lining the boards. Steve smiles when you gasp lightly in delight at the sight of it. The brightness cutting through the already dark night sky.

Steve guides you over to the skate rental booth first, bumping his hip into yours when you attempt to pay for the rentals. “As if. My idea, my wallet.”

“You don’t even let me pay when it’s my idea, either.”

“Well, that’s just chivalry, babe.”

You roll your eyes at him and thank the man behind the booth when he hands you both your skates. As you walk towards the lockers and cubbies set up nearby, you lean up and kiss Steve’s cheek, his light stubble scratching your lips.

“Thank you for this,” you say.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he tells you. “Though I should warn you that I’m not very good at this.”

“What? You, not good at something? Please.”

“No, seriously. I’m like bambi on ice.”

You laugh and shove his shoulder weakly, “Don’t worry. I’m probably even worse.”

Steve grins. So far, so good. This one will be perfect. Well, as perfect as it can be considering his skating skills.

You sit on one of the benches and Steve puts both of your shoes in one of the cubbies. He ties his own skates first before kneeling in front of you to help you with yours. He knows how to tie them, at the very least.

He helps you slip your feet into the skates first, then tightens the laces on one before peering up at you and checking, “Feel okay? Not too tight?”

“It’s good, Steve. I feel like Cinderella.”

“A perfect fit! She must be the one!”

“Dork.”

“That’s prince dork to you.”

Steve finishes up with your skates, squeezing your ankle before setting your foot down and standing back up.

On the ice, neither of you are very graceful. You hold onto the boards most of the time, and Steve stumbles and nearly falls every few strides, but you’re laughing and having fun, so who cares?

So what if you get lapped by multiple people on the rink, including children? So what if you get some side eyes for being too slow or in the way? Neither of you can bring yourselves to be bothered.

Best of all, Steve keeps a hold on your hand the entire time. He literally saves you from falling with his grip on your hand squeezing and pulling you up straight.

However, your hands being clasped also means that, inevitably, when one of you goes down, you both do.

It happens after a decent amount of laps; your toe pick catches on a dip in the ice and it’s all it takes for you to lose your balance. Steve somehow twists himself to catch the brunt of your fall.

He expected that to come with some pain, a couple bruises, maybe. Instead, his wrist twists painfully against the ice as he falls, as if he’d tried to catch himself with it, and he can’t help the hiss of pain that comes out when he lands.

“You okay, honey?” he asks you.

“Of course I am. I landed on you, Stevie. Are you okay?”

He tests his wrist out by flexing it, wiggling his fingers, and he tries to hide it but he winces when he does, a sharp pain shooting up his arm. “M’fine.”

“Bullshit, I saw that wince, Harrington.” You manage to get back up on your feet and hold out a hand for him to grab, “Up, I’m taking you to the ER.”

“No, no. I’m good.”

“Steve.”

“Baby.”

“Come on, you don’t want to make it worse, do you?” you urge him. “Plus, I’ll only keep worrying and bugging you about it until you let me take you to the doctor. Your wrist is already swelling, babe.”

Mostly because he doesn’t like the thought of you worrying about him, Steve agrees.

When both of your skates are off (your doing, this time) and given back to the booth, you reach into Steve’s coat pocket and grab the keys to the BMW. He doesn’t protest, and that alone tells you he must be hurting more than he’s letting on. You even manage to open your own door for once.

Steve’s quiet on the drive to the hospital, his hand resting limply on his leg. His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezing shut every so often when a burst of pain comes. You do your best to avoid any pot holes or bumps along the way.

Once there, you make him sit in one of the waiting room chairs, “I’ll get the check in forms and everything. Stay put, yeah?”

“Your wish is my command,” he says, trying to joke. His voice wobbles a tiny bit, though.

It’s at least an hour of waiting before someone can see him (and that’s including your many pesterings to the front desk). You don’t mean to be a bother, but you’ve never seen Steve injured in any serious capacity, and it’s messing with your head.

He took the weight of that fall to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt. The way he pays attention to things like that is one of the many reasons you love him.

You love him. You haven’t said the words to each other yet, but you’ve felt them for a long time already. It’s hard not to love Steve Harrington.

Finally, the doctor takes him back, and you follow. After an x-ray and some prodding, he determines that it’s a sprained wrist and that he should keep it wrapped for a few weeks to make sure it heals. They give him a prescription for some mild painkillers, too, for the first couple of days.

You breathe a sigh of relief knowing it isn’t broken, but Steve’s shoulders are still slumped.

He’s in pain, sure, his wrist now wrapped up in a tensor bandage, but really he feels defeated at messing yet another thing up. Third strike.

Steve lets you guide him back to the car and drive back to his place. You’ve decided you’re staying the night to take care of him, and as much as he hates looking weak or feeling useless, he’s glad to have you around.

You dote on him back at home, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer after making sure he’s settled on the couch, throwing a frozen pizza in the oven, bringing him meds and water.

“Honey, it’s just a sprain. Please stop fussing and sit with me.”

His brown eyes shine a little, and you could never say no to him when he looks at you like that.

You sit beside him and he drops his head to your shoulder, your hand coming up to play with the strands at the nape of his neck, scratching his scalp gently. His uninjured hand rests on your thigh and squeezes.

“Best painkiller ever,” he says.

-

4.

Steve has convinced himself that nothing could possibly go wrong this time around.

His plans for today involve staying at home, just you and him, no outside forces to deal with or avoid. So much less potential for failure. That’s what he thinks, at least.

Steve knows nearly every piece of you, so, obviously he knows you like to bake. You’d made him a cake for his birthday, and every so often you bring him other treats from home. Naturally, that meant that there was no way he was leaving out Christmas baking.

He’d considered doing gingerbread houses, and then remembered that the last time he tried that in a competition with the kids, his house was nothing more than a messy pile of gingerbread slabs. One with a bite taken out of it.

So, considering his past failures this holiday season, he’d settled on something that he thinks — hopes — is really hard to mess up: sugar cookies.

His mother’s collection of cookbooks had never been used for more than decoration until now. Steve searched through them until he found a recipe, wrote down the ingredients, and bought them at the grocery store to make sure he had everything.

In school, he never did much studying, but he reread the hell out of that recipe in order to get at least this one thing right.

The tensor bandage is still wrapped around his wrist, which is fucking annoying, really. He has to adjust it every day, and it’s hard to do with a single hand. He much prefers when you do it for him, sealing it with a featherlight kiss.

Worse, the thing still hurts, and you refused to let him drive and put more strain on it than necessary, so you took the bus and walked the rest of the way to his house.

He’s got all of the ingredients and tools laid out on the island when you ring the doorbell. “Hurry up, Harrington, it’s freezing!”

Hurry he does. He lets you in and helps you unwrap yourself from your bundle of a scarf and hat and mittens and jacket. Steve dips in to kiss your cheek, your skin cold against his lips. “Wouldn’t have to freeze if you let me come get you.”

“I don’t want you hurting yourself for no reason, I’m fine,” you grab his uninjured hand and kiss the pads of his fingers, “and I like these hands.”

He smiles at your words, smug, “Yeah, I know you do, honey.”

You shake your head at him, but you’re smiling all the same, “I take it back. Your ego is getting too big.”

“Nooo, it’s just the right size,” he winks.

“Don’t you have plans, Steve?” you ask, changing the subject. “Getting a little off track, aren’t we?”

“Later, then,” he says, taking your hand with his good one and leading you to the kitchen.

You pause at the entryway of the kitchen, scanning over the things on the island, two aprons Steve must’ve dug up from somewhere hanging from the knobs of the cabinets.

“Tada,” he says, “we’re making cookies.”

“This might be my favourite one yet, Stevie.” You walk over and grab one of the aprons, leaving the other (a pink floral number) for Steve. “I’m in charge, though.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says, taking the other apron without a complaint. “This is your kitchen today, chef.”

“Mm. That has a nice ring to it.”

“Chef honey,” he says, planting a kiss where your neck meets your shoulder, breath warm even through your shirt.

You get started after that. Predictably, you make a mess with flour on the island and mixing bowls strewn about the surface. You get distracted with a bit of a flour war somewhere in there, Steve smudging it onto your cheek, you onto the tip of his nose.

When it’s time to roll out the dough and cut out the cookies, Steve grabs a handful of cookie cutters from one of the drawers, setting them onto the counter with a small clang. They’re all holiday themed. Candy canes and snowmen and Christmas trees.

“Someone’s prepared,” you say, bumping your hip against his.

“I run a serious establishment here, baby.”

“I thought I was in charge.”

Soon enough, after sneaking bites of raw cookie dough and cutting out as many cookies as you could manage, they’re placed into the oven, the timer set.

You end up in the living room, a random channel playing on the TV while the cookies bake. It starts innocently enough, just sitting next to each other, shoulders and thighs pressed together.

Then, Steve’s good hand wanders, starting above your knee and moving up and up until he’s squeezing the top of your thigh, tracing patterns with his thumb. When he speaks a husky, “Come closer?” how could you ever say no?

So, somehow, you’ve ended up straddling Steve’s lap, his injured hand resting loosely on your waist, the other pressed in between your shoulder blades to keep you close. Yours are in his hair, running through the strands, tugging even.

It grows heated fast, and all of a sudden you’re making out like a pair of teenagers, Steve urging you to press further down in his lap, to writhe there while his mouth works yours until it’s all you can think about. All you can feel.

The room feels warmer, Steve’s jeans tighter over his lap, your chest bumping against his, hearts racing. Even just kissing him feels better than anything you’ve ever had in the past.

He kisses you like he’s starved everytime, sometimes a ravenous hunger, like now, or, when he’s gentler, something tender and soft. A sweet tooth.

The cookies are long forgotten. The timer sounds and nobody hears it. You would keep going forever, if you could. But then there’s the smell that hits your nostrils. The smell of something burning.

“Steve?” you say against his mouth.

“Uh-huh?” he breathes.

“Do you smell that?”

He pulls back, and it’s immediately after you say the words that the alarm goes off, piercing through the air, killing the mood, much to your dismay. Even more to Steve’s.

“Fuck,” he groans.

You’re both rushing to the kitchen then. You, fumbling off his lap, him beating you to the kitchen and frantically taking the baking sheet out of the oven and turning the thing off. You grab a towel from the counter and start fanning beneath the alarm to get it to go off, and when the cookies are dealt with, Steve joins the efforts.

Eventually the thing stops beeping, and you both rest your arms. The room still looks a little cloudy, the cookies black at the edges.

Steve doesn’t say anything, only rests his elbows on the island and slumps his head, defeated.

He’s so frustrated with himself. Not for kissing you. No, he could never be mad at that, but at the outcome of his final attempt at a holiday date going south again.

You frown at him, walking over and placing a hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles. “Steve? You okay?”

“I just- I messed it up again.”

“Hey, I’m as much to blame as you are. It takes two to tango, as they say.”

He huffs a weak laugh, picking his head up and twisting to look at you. Your pretty face, eyes nothing but kind. Fuck, he loves you, and he just wanted to show you that. To make Christmas as magical as it's supposed to be.

“I really wanted it to go well, you know?”

You realize then that he’s not only talking about today. That he’s been putting this pressure on himself all month to make plans and something has happened every time. You don’t blame him for that, if anything, it makes your heart ache with adoration.

“Steve, it doesn’t matter to me. Things happen, it’s okay,” you kiss his bicep lightly. “I’d rather things go a bit wrong with you than to have them go right with someone else. You are the best part.”

“I-” love you, he almost says. But he doesn’t want the first time to be like this, in a room that still stinks. “You’re the best part for me too, honey.”

You decide that next time, it’s your turn to do something for him.

-

+1

Steve comes home from work on Christmas Eve, eyes tired and feet hurting despite having worn relatively comfortable shoes today.

He’d tried to get the day off, tried to be able to spend it with you in bed for hours and hours and not getting up until the afternoon. Keith had other plans for him.

He even tried to dramatize his wrist injury. Still, he was forced to go in.

Walking up the driveway, Steve sees the glow of lights inside filtering through the curtains. He’s fairly certain he hadn’t left any on, but he also knows he’s often wrong about these things, so he shrugs it off and goes inside.

There’s noise coming from the living room. Crackling of the fireplace that he barely ever uses, music playing quietly, and then he hears you humming along.

“Honey?”

“Yup, it’s me!”

You know where the spare key is, Steve’s the one who told you the information and encouraged you to use it, but you’ve often been too nervous to do so. Not today, it seems.

While Steve was at work, you’d set up your plan for him.

He follows the sound of your voice without much of a thought, a moth drawn to a flame. When he turns into the living room, he stills.

There are strings of warm white Christmas lights hung about, the fireplace is actually housing a fire, and in front of it is a fort made up of red and green and white blankets and pillows. Some plaid, some with snowflakes, all Christmas themed.

“Did you do all of this?” he asks, walking slowly to where you stand by the fort.

“Figured it was my turn to organize a date, don’t you think?”

“Baby. This is all really sweet, but wha-”

You cut him off, “Uh-uh. Let me explain.” You reach for Steve’s hands, and he meets you in the middle willingly. Suddenly nervous, you shift your weight on your feet. “I thought we could do presents a little early.”

His brows scrunch, “But Christmas is tomorrow.”

“Please?” you ask, squeezing his hands once.

And, really, Steve would never say no to you. Especially not when you’re saying ‘please’ all sweet and delicate like that.

“Okay,” he says. “Yours is in my room. I’ll go grab it. And change; I smell like Family Video.”

“‘Kay, Stevie.”

You kiss his cheek before he goes for good measure.

Steve is confused the entire time, wondering what it could be that you’re up to, but he does as he said he would. You’d been wearing a set of pyjamas (one he loves on you; a soft baby blue pair of shorts with a matching sweater), so he goes for one of his pairs of plaid pants and a plain t shirt before grabbing your messily wrapped gift bag from where he’d hidden it under his bed.

Back in the living room, he finds you now settled on the ground of the fort, which you’d lined with fuzzy blankets and the biggest of the pillows. His gift is sat beside you, a gift box wrapped in a lovely bow. Your skills of wrapping bouquets are transferable, he’s learned.

He joins you, sitting across from you, but close enough that your legs tangle and knees bump.

“You go first,” you tell him.

“Okay,” he scratches the back of his neck, handing you the gift bag. “Let me explain it before you say anything.”

That grabs your attention, but your plans aren’t about his present to you, really, and you know you’ll love it no matter what because Steve knows you better than anyone.

You lift out tissue paper first, uncovering multiple different things inside the bag, also wrapped. It pieces together as you go. A toothbrush, toothpaste, a hairbrush, your entire skincare routine, a couple of pyjama and underwear sets.

“It’s so you don’t have to bring an overnight bag every time you stay over now. I, um, cleared out a couple of drawers in my dresser and the bathroom.”

“Steve,” you look at him, heart squeezing. It’s so thoughtful, so him, and you surge forward you wrap your arms around his neck and breathe into his skin, “I love it. Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Perfect.

“You really think so?”

“Of course I do,” you sit back into your spot. “You know I hate carrying things.”

“I never let you carry anything, honey.”

“Exactly,” you nod. Now, you hold out his gift for him to take, “Your turn.”

You watch Steve’s hands as he tugs the bow undone, then lifts the lid of the box.

Nestled inside are four delicate ornaments. A Christmas tree, a snowman, an ice skate, and a plate of cookies. One for every date he’d planned for you.

Steve frowns at them, not because he doesn’t like them, but because he doesn’t quite understand where you’re going with this.

“I thought it was time we started collecting our own ornaments. For our place, one day,” you tell him.

“They’re lovely, but honey you- you really wanna remember these things?“ he shakes his head, more at himself than you. “I messed ‘em all up.”

“There’s one more thing in there,” you say quietly.

The thing you're nervous about. A thing you’ve never said out loud before.

Steve finds it beneath one of the ornaments, a small piece of paper folded up. When he opens that, his heart stutters in his chest. Written in your handwriting are three words: I love you.

He blinks away from the paper to look at you, though his thumb continues to trace the words absentmindedly. “Honey-”

“I love you, Steve. Okay?” You shift closer, kneeling at his side, your hands coming up to frame his jaw, your fingers kind against his skin. “I don’t care that things didn’t go how you planned. I mean, I would rather you didn’t require an ER visit, but the point is that I don’t need things to be perfect. And I know you’ve been hard on yourself trying to make them so.”

He lets go of the paper and reaches up to grasp your wrists, his thumb finding your racing pulse. His uninjured hand holds on tighter than the other.

“Thank you for trying for me,” you continue, “for caring. But no matter what happens, things are perfect for me. Because I get to do them with you. Got that, Harrington? You’re perfect, and I love you, and-”

He shuts you up with a kiss. It’s a simple but firm press of his lips against yours, but it says enough.

“I fucking love you too, honey,” he says, his forehead against yours, lips only a breath apart. “You saying all of that it means — you mean a lot to me.”

“Yeah, well, I meant it.”

“I know you did,” he nods. Steve pulls back the tiniest bit to be able to see your face fully, his sweet brown eyes locked on yours. “I wanted our first Christmas to be perfect, and I didn’t wanna let you down, but you’re right. They were perfect, because you’re here. And I love you for bein’ here.”

“As long as you’ll have me,” you say. You push his hair off his forehead before letting go of his face and sitting back, “Why don’t you give those ornaments a try?”

“On those trees?” he asks, eyebrows lifted, voice joking.

“Steve.”

”Okay, okay.”

He picks up the skate first. Surprising, considering that one had ended in a physical injury for him, but you say nothing and watch him walk over to your little trees by the window. You join him, sitting on the arm of the couch nearby while he scans over the tree.

“Pick a spot, handsome,” you encourage. “There’s really no wrong answer here.”

He goes to hang the first ornament, hand wavering before setting on a branch.

“Well, maybe not-” Steve tackles you onto the couch before you can finish. You dissolve into giggles as he pokes at your ribs, his head on your chest.

Steve’s done keeping score.

Perfect Christmas. That’s it.

⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇

thank you so much for reading!! if you enjoyed please please consider leaving a comment and/or a reblog and letting me know what you thought! it would mean a bunch of<3

[emchante]

ᯓ f1 drivers — stalker!au

drivers included: max verstappen, daniel ricciardo, carlos sainz, oscar piastri, lewis hamilton.

warnings: 18+ content + dark themes — minors dni.

a/n: stalker!carlos went down well, and i’ve had an ask or two about other drivers. so, here’s a post about multiple drivers as stalkers. i hope you all enjoy, and drop by my inbox afterwards to let me know your thoughts!

— max verstappen.

stalker!max verstappen who is utterly obsessed with you, and has been since the day he lay eyes on you. you were never something he was normal about— infact the day he met you, he went home to find out as much information on you as he could from just your name. and find information he did. your early years, where you were educated, job, friends, family— he now knew a lot.

and with a few fishy websites, max had access to your phone number in no time. you two hadn’t spoken much, so he wasn’t worried about being found out. not when he could make his voice a little deeper and mask his accent a little just to make sure you didn’t catch on at all.

the conversations started off normal, just talking to you as if he were a friend. it scared you, how this man knew so much about you. he never answered when you asked his name, he avoided the question completely. you felt uneasy every time he called, yet you picked up every time.

and maybe you shouldn’t have, because that’s how it got to this point. this point, where the mysterious man on the other side of the phone was telling you what he was going to do you when he saw you in person.

“you’ll be begging for me, you know. begging for my thick fingers to rub your aching clit, or slip inside your pussy and hit the right spot.”

“you’ll be mewling as i grope your tender tits, allowing my rough thumbs to drag over your sensitive, peaked nipples. because you like that, don’t you? i know how sensitive your chest is compared to the rest of your body, and i’ll use that against you.”

“you’ll be such a good girl for me, won’t you? because i know how much you like to listen and obey. and i know you enjoy this— not knowing who i am, yet i know you. i know so much about you, and i’ll use it all to make you a ruined slut.”

fuck. why did you keep picking up?

— daniel ricciardo.

stalker!daniel ricciardo who puts his camera to use for his favourite muse, who just so happens to be you. yet, you aren’t even aware that you’re his muse. maybe it’s because he doesn’t explicitly tell you about it, because he’s taking photos from afar. when you’re walking by his house, when you’re out tending to your flowers, or when you’re in town grabbing a coffee— he’s always there.

but eventually, the photos change. he starts to lurk more, gets closer to get better shots of you. he feels like it’s a sign that you never shut your curtains, it’s like you’re inviting him. he manages to snap photos of you on the sofa as you fall asleep, or photos of you baking in the kitchen. his favourite time to strike is when you’re bent over, your ass straining against your leggings.

then it gets to the final stage of progression. daniel is so thankful your house only has one floor, because it means easy access to your bedroom. he has to stop himself from audibly groaning as he watches you from the window, getting undressed and into your lounging clothes. he snaps plenty of pics of you with your tits out, and some of you with only your pink, lacy panties on. he finally hits jackpot when he catches you masturbating in your room one night, window opened as you touch yourself and moan to your hearts content. daniel is sweating as he takes the photos. some are a little shaky, who can blame him when he’s palming himself with his other hand? he makes sure to take zoomed in photos of your pretty pussy being stretched by your fingers, and then some of your face as you orgasm.

he adores you, and it’s why he has a special print room in his house that’s covered in all the photos he’s ever taken of you.

— carlos sainz.

stalker!carlos sainz who knows you better than you know yourself. he’s obsessed with you, he knows your schedule for every day of the week. you trust him so much, and yet he uses it all against you. the spare key to your house you had given him for emergencies? he uses it for his own sick pleasure.

he has a day every week where he sneaks into your house while you shower, so that you can’t hear him unlocking the door or sneaking around the house. you have a spacious closet in your bedroom, one that sits right across from your bed. it gives him the perfect view of you whenever you’re drying and dressing yourself after your shower.

you walk around your bedroom naked while you look out the pyjamas you want for that night, and carlos gets the perfect view of your soft ass as you bend over to the drawers, seeing your options of clothing for the night. he loves when you perk up with excitement after finding your favourite set. the expression and noise you make is cute, but his main focus is your bouncing, wet tits that are in view.

he’s filthy, using you getting dressed and running your hands over yourself with your (supposed) alone time as material for him to jerk off to. he loves palming himself over his slacks as he watches your beautiful, bare body slip into the lacy panties and bra, before it gets covered my the soft, silky pyjamas that hug your body perfectly. his favourite part is when you get into bed, moaning in delight at how relaxed you are before dozing off to sleep.

he steps out of the closet once you’re fast asleep, pulling his slacks and boxers down to finish jerking off at the sight of you. he slowly opens the drawer that contains your panties, and cums into a fresh pair before he makes his way back home, as if he was never there.

— oscar piastri.

stalker!oscar piastri who’s just the sweetest soul you’ve ever met. he was always so lovely to you, such a gentlemen anytime you had been out together. he’s always offering help when you need it, even just the simplest things; your dress zip getting stuck, being low on cash for a meal, when your phone was acting up.

oscar was more than happy to help out with these issues, especially when it came to your phone. he asked if he could have a look into it, and of course you gave him permission— you couldn’t have your phone breaking on you now. he has it for longer than you’d expect but when he hands you it back it’s working just as well as it was before, so you don’t even care about how long it took. you hug him tightly and thank him.

however maybe you should have wondered why he had it so long, because it wasn’t just to fix your phone. in fact, that only took him five minutes. the rest of the time was spent installing a type of malware onto your phone, so he could have access to everything. your photos, apps, search history, socials. it was all for safety precautions of course, not for any other reason.

but it’s through this that he finds out how much of a filthy girl you are. he’s checking your search history late one night, and his jaw drops to see the amount of porn links you had clicked on that night. from soft porn to hardcore, kinky porn— he was truly shocked. he would never have expected it from you, but he would be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on even more.

you’re surprised when you wake up the next day to see a video of a man jerking off in your camera roll. you’re a little scared, but yet you watch it anyway. you put it down to one of the pornsites installing videos to your phone. you touch yourself as you watch the thick cock in the video pulse and spurt warm cum everywhere, and the heat is pooling in your belly.

if only you knew it was oscar.

— lewis hamilton.

stalker!lewis hamilton who loves to send you gifts. he knows you very well for a multitude of reasons. you’re friends of course, and a lot of topics come up in passing during conversations. other times, he finds out your interests in his own time. who could blame him for keeping an eye on you when you go out? he’s just trying to protect you, even if you aren’t aware that he’s always watching you.

you’re surprised when you start waking up to deliveries of random packages you don’t remember ordering and it’s even weirder when it has your full name on it.. maybe you had ordered it in your sleep. you think that’s correct, because the items you receive are things you’ve been talking about or looking into recently. it’s just weird when you don’t see the money coming out of your account, though.

but one day you’re left shocked when you open a package and you’re met with a dildo. you’re in shock because while you may not remember the last purchases, you’re certain you wouldn’t have ordered anything of the likes. it takes you a while to see there’s a note attached to it, not handwritten but printed.

“film yourself using this, sweetheart. you know you want to.”

and maybe you’re stupid, but you do it anyways. a free gift is a free gift.. you may as well put it to good use. so that night when you’re in bed, you position your phone against the headboard between your pillows and hit record. you record a lengthy video of you using the dildo you were gifted, moaning thank you’s to whoever it was that had sent you the gift. you end the video by gathering your slick that had spilt over the dildo, staring into the camera and licking your two fingers before ending the video.

you’re happily surprised to see lewis visiting the next day.

⋆˙⟡ enjoy this concept? come chat to me in my ask box about it! i’d love to hear your thoughts and ideas. <3

[nmn-yty]

— ๋࣭ ⭑࿐ constellations ｡o♡⋆˚｡⋆.

pairing: lee know x reader

summary: you find a lonely bunny who needs a home

tags: 「SFW! fluff! | hybrid!lee know | referring to lee know as minho | soft!lee know (he's so needy) | cuddling and a small kiss | winter vibes | lots of plot (mb get immersed) | knife appearance | reader has no gender」

word count: 2.6k

a/n: i never thought i would see myself writing about lee know, but he has been wrecking me a lot(◞_◟) cute fluff for you lee know stans :3 please forgive me if i write anything that is out of character for him (also happy to see you all liking hybrid stories!) this story is kinda rushed too, i didn't want to make it too long, enjoyyy!!!

+ stylized lowercase, missing punctuation (not done on purpose), and minimal revisions

the usual trail you walk along has now been covered in a thin layer of snow. this trail has been your secret guide since forever. it's a shortcut that leads to an open flower field, where you can lie down and enjoy the nature around you. seeing this field in winter is a bit depressing, as all the flowers have died and have been faced with the cold winds and snow of winter. you take this path from time to time, just to remember what used to be there.

you've encountered animals a few times in this area. the occasional birds, squirrels, and even deer have all been amazing sightings to see. however, you didn't expect to see a white bunny practically running towards you this day.

"hey little guy," you cooed to the bunny. he stares at you with big eyes, twitching his nose and ears perched up and alert. this is your first encounter with a bunny and you wanted to see how friendly it was.

you reached your hand out slowly so he can smell you first. he hopped closer to you, giving you a sniff before staring back at you. this gave you the chance to pet his fur once, brushing the snow off with your glove. he started to close his eyes and nuzzle into your warmth. you didn't know if this was normal behavior for a bunny, but you were glad that you got to pet him.

"you are the cutest thing ever, but i really have to go. bye bunny!" it was sad to leave him all alone on that path, but he surely had a home to get back to. you didn't realize it at the time but you dropped one of your soft gloves that you kept as a spare pair in your pocket. he grabbed the item in his mouth, ready to hand it back to you, only for you to be no where in sight.

he snuggled with the glove by a nearby bush, hoping that you would return quickly to get him back.

running through the trail, retracing your steps, all you could think about was that cute bunny you met the other day. the weather was worse today, the winds rising and snow falling rapidly. holding your hand up to your forehead to protect your eyes, you start to dig in the snow. you thought the glove might be buried under the piling white ground.

suddenly you hear soft imprints on the snow, the same bunny you met slowly approaching you. squinting hard, you could make out the glove held in its mouth, you sighed in relief.

"my glove!" the bunny stopped in its tracks, dropping the item. you walk up to where he stood, grabbing the glove with your freezing red hand, putting it on. it was such a miracle that he kept it safe for you, maybe he needed it for himself. you pet the bunny quickly, brushing the snow off his fur.

as you began to take off, you heard more imprints on the snow. was he following you? you turned around to see him nestling near a bush. you smiled at him, assuming that his home was near. you started to walk again but the cycle repeated, him being inches away from you.

"do you want to come with me, bunny?" you called out to him. you stared at him when your words made him stand up on his back legs, ears shot upward. it's almost like he understood clearly what your words meant. it kinda scared you, but you were happy that you had a chance of taking him home.

you reached over to pick him up, his pink nose began to take in your scent. you had him tucked in one arm, while the other one protected his fur from the snow. you brushed away the snow that made its way on to his body from the wind. his eyes were shut now, ears tucked down. you made your way back to your house as fast as you could.

the wave of heat from your house when you opened your front door came rushing in. it felt so good to not be out in the snow storm. you tried to shake off as much snow from your body as you can, the snow falling on to the mat at your feet. you set the bunny down gently for a second, trying not to wake him up. taking off your coat and boots were also a relief to your body, the restrictive clothing starting to condensate from being in a warm environment.

you reached over to pick up the bunny again, only for him to flinch awake, looking around at his new surroundings. he hopped around for a bit, still leaving small amounts of snow on your floor. you let him explore a bit while you ran upstairs to get a towel.

you found a clean towel and reached the main floor. you tried to look for the bunny but he was no where in sight. this started to worry you, had he caught himself in a place where he shouldn't be? "here bunny bunny... where did you go?"

your voice became an instant wave of peace in his ears, as he came running back to you from the kitchen.

"oh you must be hungry. ill try to find you some food, but first let me dry your body, okay?" you picked him up again, taking a seat on your couch with the towel. wiping him dry became a quick task, he already shook off most of the snow from moving around your house. you would have to mop up the floor later but that was a problem for future you. once he was all dry, you pet him once again, making him twitch his nose and close his eyes in comfort. you couldn't believe you had a real bunny inside your house. sure there were strays that roamed around your house from time to time, but they never came close to coming inside. you usually left food for them outside your house, maybe giving them a few pets if they're nice to you.

it all felt surreal, illegal even. you wouldn't have taken him in if he didn't follow you. plus, the storm was getting really bad out there, maybe he didn't have a good place to keep warm.

you set him down on the cushion next to you and headed for the kitchen. you looked into your fridge for some lettuce, taking two leaves and washing them quickly. you heard a hard thump from the living room, maybe he was exploring your house a bit more. you hoped that nothing bad had happened while you looked away.

walking out of the kitchen, your heart drops as there was a man sitting on your couch. you quickly turned back into the kitchen, not even sure what to do next. your hands were shaking and you dropped the leaves, thankfully not making a sound. you started to tear up, how did this strange man get into your house? although at first glance he didn't look harmful, you quietly grabbed a knife from the counter.

peeking your head back to the living room, you can finally make out the man's appearance again. he's wearing a black hoodie with sweatpants. he had dark brown hair that covered his sharp eyes slightly. he was hugging one of your throw pillows you had lying around. he looked almost animated, the way his eyes blinked as he gazed around your house. his nose also twitched from time to time, it was actually quite charming.

getting back to the problem at hand, you jumped into the living room and held the knife out with a strong grip.

"who are you and how did you get in my house?"

his expression was blank. he blinked a few times before choking out a response.

"my name is minho, im your bunny."

you stared at him in confusion, was he on some sort of drugs?

"what the hell is that supposed to mean? did you do something to my bunny? where is he?"

you turned slightly to look around for your bunny, he was no where to be seen.

"i told you," just before he could finish his sentence, he disappeared, and your bunny from outside appeared and took his place.

you dropped the knife and ran over to where he was sitting. at your knees by the couch, you took him in your arms. "where were you?" you could feel the tears start to roll down your cheeks.

in a sudden flash again, the bunny was gone, and now you were embracing the same stranger who claimed to be your bunny. you looked up at him, your throat becoming narrow making it hard for you to breathe. you couldn't believe what just happened. was he some type of monster? you were frozen in place, scared that he might do something to hurt you.

"it's just me, you dont need to look so scared."

you could finally feel your heartbeat starting to fall back to a normal pace. it felt like an impossible scenario, but there was no other explanation to what you just witnessed with your own eyes.

"m-minho. that's your name?"

he nodded and gave a small grin. he wasn't so scary anymore. looking into his eyes, you can see they were the same dark eyes from the bunny you took in today. it really was him. even though they were huge and dark, you could see the lights sparkling in them, almost like stars.

"how is this even real, am i dreaming?"

just as you uttered those words, another flash revealed his in between form. he still had the body of a human, but cute bunny ears popped out from the top of his head. you couldn't see it right now but you could assume he had a bunny tail too.

"nope, this is all real."

you felt dizzy again, witnessing something that couldn't be explained. you got up off the floor and sat next to him, grabbing the pillow he was grabbing when you first saw him. it was still warm, you held onto it extra tight for some comfort.

"do you still have that food you promised me? im starving."

"oh right," you got up and set the pillow aside. "do you still want that lettuce? or are you allowed to eat other foods while being... human?"

"all foods are fine while being human, although i prefer to not eat any meat, if you dont mind."

"right, still a bunny. okay let's see what i have."

you walk back into the kitchen thinking about the food you could give him. it was getting pretty late, almost time to fall asleep, so you wanted to offer something light. you grabbed two small bowls, pouring some cereal, and grabbing milk from the fridge. placing the spoons in the bowls, you quickly headed out, sitting back down and handing him the cereal.

"it's getting late, i hope this is enough for you."

he grabbed the bowl and held out the spoon in a strange way, barely able to get a good grip. the shaking spoon slowly made way to his mouth. a few crunches in and he moaned in delight. his eyes were sparkling, he probably hadn't eaten in a while. you started to eat your cereal too, moving the milk around.

"time went by fast huh?" you took the bowls back into the kitchen once minho was done with his food.

"im going up to sleep, we can talk more in the morning okay? come with me for a sec"

you motioned for him to follow you upstairs. in a closet in your hallway you picked out your warmest blanket. you handed it to him and smiled, you could get used to having him around.

you headed towards your room and heard tiny steps following you. behind you minho followed, did he want to sleep with you?

"oh no, you have to sleep downstairs okay?"

those words stung in his ears. he looked really upset, and just as unprepared you were the last time, he scared you with a transformation. this time, he was a full on bunny again. you couldn't let your bunny sleep downstairs all alone, right?

you rolled your eyes in defeat and picked him up, petting his back gently. you could see him starting to doze off. he was the cutest thing in the whole world while being a bunny. he was also really handsome while being human, you started to get flustered thinking about the topics you were going to talk about in the morning. he had the type of face and energy that made you lose your train of thought and made you all dizzy.

you finally set him next to your small bed. you got under the blankets and stared at the sleeping bunny. his ears were laid down and his body was moving up and down lightly. you gave him light pets until you fell asleep, not letting him out of your sight. you hadn't noticed but he was playing dumb with you, returning your meaningful stares back to you while you didn't notice.

your body began to feel really warm in the morning. you hadn't opened your eyes yet but you felt significantly more snug in your bed. there was a feeling of comfort and protection around you. blinking your eyes awake, you wake up to a sleeping hybrid minho. he was facing you, his hand wrapped loosely around your waist. you couldn't help but become utterly flustered the moment you realized his hand placement. how did he transform while sleeping?

all you could do was stare at his calm expression and sleeping body. you couldn't believe you had someone like him in your bed right now. his ears were drooped down on the pillow, and out of the corner of your eye you could spot a small fluffy tail. your eyes weren't playing tricks on you earlier.

you reached over to his hand and slowly started to take it off your body. you guessed that bunnies were sensitive everywhere, because the light warmth of your hand made minho flutter his eyes open. he stared at you in confusion, almost like he was sad that you had plans of leaving him alone.

"relax, im just going to the bathroom okay?"

his face softened and he closed his eyes again, trying to get to sleep again. once you were done in the bathroom, you returned to a completely human minho. it's a shame because you swore that his hybrid form was the most cute form he could be in. full bunny form was close to being your first but it wasn't fun thinking about talking to yourself.

you sat on your side of the bed, reaching over to pet his head. he started to make light hums, a tiny smile appearing. he peaked up at you through one eye, waiting for the perfect moment to come close to you. he gently grabbed your hand and gave it a peck, making you gasp and look at him in awe.

"why did you do that?" you say while completely flustered.

"im yours, aren't i?" he didn't wait for your response and just snuggled onto your lap. you didn't realize it until later but minho really needed someone like you in his life. although everything seemed so rushed, he was glad that you were the person to stumble upon him in the woods.

you froze in place not wanting to disturb him. were you really the one in charge here, or did a cute bunny just make you lose control?

edit: thank you all so much for all the love><♡

part 2 is up now!!! click here!!!

© nmn-yty ★ 5.29.2024

[no-144444]

pale blue- o.piastri

your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist, mentions of crashes and injuries.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Baku. If you won this weekend, you’d be ahead of Max in the standings.

Quali came around much too quick, and it was only your first time on the circuit. Everyone seemed to forget the fact that you were a rookie, just because you were winning. You were on your final push lap, it was going well, but all it had to do was get you out of the bottom 5 (which you were in right now). 

“Yellow flags!” Oscar called over the radio, causing you to instinctively slow down. 

“What happened?” you panicked, radioing in. 

“I’m not sure, but… we’re P15 and time is over. Sorry Y/n.” 

“Fuck,” you whispered, hitting your steering wheel. “Where’s Norris?”

“He’s through.” 

“The team can get a win this weekend, sorry about this guys,” you sighed, driving your car back into the pits and getting out of the car to get weighed and do your interviews. The time passed, and the debrief was clear, Lando was up in P2, ready to take the win tomorrow as you were once again, put on the back foot. 

As you walked out of the room, pretty ready for a night of watching movies on your lonesome (you could finally look at screens again), Oscar came up to you. 

“My family is here,” he told you. “If you’d like to meet them, we’re getting dinner. You’re more than welcome to join-”

“I wouldn’t want to impose-” you started.

“Please,” he begged. “My sisters really want to meet you.”

You smiled. “I’ll head back to the hotel and get changed.”

He smiled. “I’ll pick you up.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

He was shitting bricks when he knocked on your hotel room door. He was wearing a pale blue shirt and linen pants, something his mum had gifted him, and all he wanted was to see you have a night of being relaxed. He knew his family could be quite crazy, but he thought his mum’s sarcastic humor, Hattie’s easy conversation, Eddie’s laid back nature, Mae’s endless stories, his dad’s kind nature, and Tim’s easy charisma, it would all go well. They could do most of the talking, and you could just watch and enjoy it, even if you didn’t feel like talking. 

You opened the door, a beautiful pale blue dress on your body, finalising your outfit with a pair of earrings. He stood there, stunned. 

You were gorgeous. That was a fact he had been made acutely aware of months ago, but you were really beautiful tonight. He didn’t speak, and your cheeks heated as you let out an awkward laugh. 

“I’m ready, sorry it took so long,” you smiled, stepping out from your room. “Let me just grab my jacket,” you said before turning and walking back into your room. His jaw actually dropped seeing the backless dress that went down to the end of your back. Thankfully, he picked his jaw back up before you turned around.

“These are for you,” he said, handing over the bouquet that had been clutched in his hand for a few moments, also pale blue lilies. 

“They’re beautiful,” you smiled, surprised by the gesture. “I’ve never gotten flowers before.”

He frowned again, but smiled before you caught him. “I’m glad I could be the first one.”

You smiled, placed the flowers in your room, and joined him in the hallway. “So where are we going?”

“My mum found this really nice restaurant just a few minutes walk from here, if that’s alright?” 

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed. As you two walked to the restaurant, you chatted about the weekend ahead, ideas for strategies, and at some point, he’d linked his arm with yours. You didn’t really mind.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

The Piastri family were hilarious. Mae had told you so many stories by the time the appetisers rolled around, that you actually had to brace yourself against Oscar to stop yourself from falling off your chair. You were sat across from Mae, with Oscar to your left and Tim to your right. Their easy banter was amusing to say the least, and the conversations you had with Hattie about music, and with Eddie about her college courses were truly enjoyable. You loved hearing about their lives, such stark contrast to yours. Nicole and you ended up speaking about pilates and Oscar’s affinity for not doing his own laundry (you’d lived with him for two weeks, she apologised). By the end of the night, they’d all become your friends, and you’d barely seen Oscar, but he’d been watching you all night. He’d seen the way your eyes lit up every time Hattie mentioned a band or song you liked, how you listened so intently to Mae’s stories, how you cared about the topics his mum spoke about, how you threw jokes back and forth with his dad and stepdad, how you asked such good questions about Eddie’s studies. 

He loved it. He loved seeing you be free. He loved seeing you smile. He loved seeing you happy. 

“I love gardening actually,” you answered when Nicole asked if you had any hobbies. 

“She has a beautiful garden in Monaco,” Oscar explained, getting his phone out to show pictures. You felt yourself beam with pride. Pride wasn’t an emotion you allowed yourself to feel very often, but Oscar’s unashamed pride on your behalf must’ve been rubbing off on you, because you went through your entire garden in detail and gave Tim some advice on his garden. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

You walked out of the restaurant feeling lighter than you had in a long time. You weren’t thinking about racing, you weren’t thinking about McLaren, you weren’t thinking about the tall order that tomorrow would bring, you were thinking about Oscar. He was busy saying good night to his family, wishing them well and telling them he’d see them tomorrow, and you stood and watched. He was so… Oscar. So calm, so loving, so caring. It made you feel… good. He made you feel good. Being near him made you feel good. 

He turned to you and linked your arms, both of you starting the walk back to the hotel. “What did you think? Too much?”

You smiled. “They’re perfect. Very kind, very intelligent, very nice people, just like you. I see where you get it from.”

He beamed with pride. The night was a success. You had enjoyed yourself, and his family had met one of the most important people in his life. “I’m glad.”

“I’m really happy I came, thank you for inviting me, Osc,” you smiled.

“No problem,” he whispered. 

The rest of the walk back to the hotel was quiet, but he noticed how you held him closer than before, up until you finally got outside your room. You leant against the door, a bashful smile on your face. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you said. “I really had fun, for the first time in a while. Thank you, Osc.”

His heart was beating out of his chest. The prettiest girl in the whole world had a nickname for him. “I’m really glad you came, I had a lot of fun too,” he admitted. He took a step closer. 

Was he going to kiss you? Did you want him to?

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he smirked, close enough to kiss you, but all he did was hug you, tucking your head into his neck. “You’ll do great tomorrow.”

“If I win it can I meet your family again?” you asked in a small, nervous voice. He chuckled. 

“You can. But you also could probably see them whenever you want, you have all of their phone numbers,” he reminded you. 

You shook your head. “I want you there too.”

“I’ll be there,” he whispered. “I’m always here for you, you know that, right?” 

You nodded gently. So small, he almost didn’t feel it. 

But he did. It was there. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, then retreated into your bedroom. 

You fell against your bed, so many questions swirling around your head as you pondered your growing feelings for your race engineer. He did the same thing. He sat at the end of his bed, wondering what he would do. He thought back to what his mother told him. 

She held him close, hugging him as the night ended. 

“She’s happier,” she smiled, talking about you. 

“Yeah?” he asked. “What did you think of her?”

“I think she’s wonderful,” Nicole smiled. “The girls love her too. And I suspect you do too.”

He sighed, nodding. His mum always found out. She smirked. 

“How do I-?” he questioned but she stopped him. 

“It’ll happen, with time,m” she assured him. “She likes you too, she’s just not there yet. Don’t worry about it too much. Just be there for her. She needs someone.”

“I am here for her,” he assured her. “She wanted to meet you guys so badly,” he chuckled. 

“She’s alone, isn’t she?” she asked. He knew better than to lie to his mum and nodded. 

“I’m glad she has you Osc,” she smiled. “She’s good for you. You’re good for her.” 

“I hope so,” he chuckled. 

“It will be, with time,” she reminded him with a kiss to the cheek. “We’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”

“Love you too mum,” he smiled. 

He just needed to wait. He was good at that. He was a patient man, and if waiting meant seeing the real you with your real smile in that damned pale blue dress again, he’d wait a million lifetimes just to make you happy. 

God, that was a little bit pathetic, wasn’t it? 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ Baku was one of your favourite circuits, you decided when you sat on the grid, waiting for the lights to go out. You had a good start, gaining places. Up in the points in one corner. After overtaking a while, a few laps of shouting at Oscar over the radio about pitting, you came into the pits, went back out, and somehow, got to the lead. 

And you crossed the line first. Again. 

“I guess we’re getting dinner again tonight,” you chuckled, a smile on your face. 

“I guess we are,” Oscar nodded. “Stellar drive,” he commented. “Well done.”

7 time Grand Prix winner. You stepped up on the top of the podium, and you enjoyed it. You were the Champion, as of that day. Oscar took his celebratory selfie with some more of the team, and dinner was set for 8pm. 

You liked Baku quite a lot.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

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soft spot (p. sh)

✎ park sunghoon x reader genre established relationship, reader and sunghoon's first relationship, confession, dancing in the rain, kissing in the rain, fireworks, reader is like painfully awkward at times, hoon is SUCH a gentleman omg?, play fighting, fluff, romance, picnic date, passionate kissing, lots of teasing, not proofread cos im lazy warnings vivid kissing description(?), nothing much word count 2.7k cly's note MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE. i am genuinely proud of myself for writing this in one-sitting since my attention span back then only allowed me to write like 500 words in one-sitting. WRITING THIS MADE ME GIGGLE SO MUCH so i hope it makes yall giggle too, hope yall enjoy (ps i just realised this fic is lowk similar to my riki fic "falling")

now playing soft spot — keshi

You nervously fidgeted, rubbing your fingers as you stared at the carpet, anticipating to the doorbell sound as you sat on your couch. It was 2 minutes to 7pm, the timing that Sunghoon said he'd pick you up at you place. You've only started dating Sunghoon a few months ago, and you were each other's firsts and it made it difficult between the two of you, and even awkward at times. You knew that you liked him, and that he liked you, but he especially had a hard time showing it to you and it even made you question the relationship at times, but you decided to just give it time.

You stood up to your feet, walking to the body mirror that was nearby and checking your appearance. You'd dressed up in a cute dress and accessories that Sunghoon had bought for you. You'd also put on make-up to make yourself extra pretty for him and yourself. You didn't know why you felt so nervous — this wasn't your first date with him — but you still felt the same way as the first time you saw him, all nervous and wanting to impress him at all times.

As you adjusted your hair slightly, a loud doorbell rang causing you to snap your neck to the door immediately. As you made your way to the door, you mentally prepared yourself to see Sunghoon, wanting to make sure that you were perfect in his eyes. Your heart raced as you slowly twisted the knob, opening the door and being met with your man.

God, he never failed to stun you with how handsome he looked everytime you meet him. He had his hair slicked back, making his facial features more prominent and he was pursing his lips, looking at you nervously. He was wearing a suit that you'd never seen before, and he had his arms behind his back, probably hiding something.

"Hoonie," you greeted, still moonstruck by how ethereal he looked.

"H-hey," he greeted back, clearing his throat and putting his hand forward and revealing the item he's been hiding, "Beautiful flowers for my beatiful woman". He offered a bouquet filled with all your favourite colours, the bright pink and red making the bouquet look alluring. Your heart skipped a beat as you looked at the bouquet, taking it with both of your hands and smelling the flowers.

You'd randomly told him on a random afternoon that you loved the smell of flowers and that bright red and pink flowers always stuck out to you, and here he was, giving you a whole bouquet of them to let you smell them. He remembered the small details about you. It was early into the relationship but you just knew that he'd be the one.

"Thank you, Hoon," you beamed at him, grinning from ear to ear. When he noticed your joyful expression, his heart skipped a beat and the tip of ears grew hot and red. He cleared his throat and broke eye contact for a second, needing a second to recover before holding out his hand, "Shall we?".

He was holding your hand, walking with you on a grassy patch as he led you towards an area. You could see other people having their picnic mats set and them bonding closely together, and you wondered if you and Sunghoon could ever bond that closely together. The place was lit up by fairy lights that were placed all over the park, making the place more heavenly.

You had no idea what you and him were going to do, since he had planned everything out and you had a gist of what it was going to be (a picnic, duh), but you weren't sure how it was going to play out. Was it going to be awkward? Will you interlock hands? Will you.. kiss for the first time?

"What are you thinking about?" Sunghoon questioned, still taking the lead as he brought you closer to a designated area.

"I.. don't know," you panicked and gave a vague answer, not wanting to give yourself away.

As you finished responding, he finally stopped on his tracks in front of a picnic mat that had been nicely set up. It was a large mat with a nice flower design, definitely fitting for the both of you and there was a basket beside a box. There was a small lamp that lit up the area and he turned back to you, giving you a soft smile as he gestured for you to sit down.

You returned a warm smile and sat down, Sunghoon immediately handing you a towel to cover your legs since you were wearing a dress and he didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. Your heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness, "Thank you".

"How was your day?" he asked, sitting himself down opposite of you, checking the mat to make sure that there weren't too many creases and even-ing it up.

You felt slightly awkward and tensed up, but you still opened up to him, telling him about how you did your work, to different things that you did throughout the day, and you could finally feel yourself feeling more relaxed. Both of you laughters filled the air and you couldn't ask for anything more. After a talking session, your stomach immediately grumbled loudly, causing you to become fully conscious of your actions and feeling awkward again.

"Is my girl hungry?" he teased, smiling brightly and showing off his sharp canines. You immediately felt more at ease that he didn't judge you and you immediately retorted back, loud laughter filling the atmosphere again.

"Check the box," he pointed to the untouched box that was beside the basket, and you looked at him in anticipation, leaning forward to take the box and putting it beside you. You slowly opened it to realise that it had a cake inside. Not any ordinary cake, it was your favourite type — chocolate cake.

"You remembered I love this? Oh my gosh!" you exclaimed, your eyes immediately being lit up as your heart raced from how ecstatic you felt. He chuckled as he opened the basket, handing you over the cake cutter.

Without wasting a second, you immediately cut the cake into a small slice, a perfect serving for him and you placed it on the disposable plate that had already been set on the mat since you got here. You handed the cake over to him and before you could cut another slice for yourself, "Hey, come, take the first bite".

You grinned and you immediately leaned in, opening your mouth and observing how he takes a fork of cake. The fork was approaching your mouth and you were about to eat it until he moved the fork away and placed cream on your nose with his index finger. He burst out into laughter, watching at you stunned state as you try to process what was going on.

"Did you just.." you muttered. "Yup, I did just.."

A second later, you immediately broke out and fought with him, taking a finger of frosting and immediately trying to get it on his face, preferably all over his face, and he only laughed, resisting and avoiding the frosting and tickling you in the process. Other people were probably judging the both of you for how loud and chaotic you were, but the two of you didn't care. It was only you and him in this moment.

You burst out laughing as you finally won and placed frosting on his nose, the same way he did it to you, and you could see frosting on other parts of his face too, like his cheeks and forehead, making you giggle at how adorable he looked. He looked at you satisfied, his hands resting on your waist, and you suddenly snapped back to reality and realised that you were sitting on his lap — straddling him even. Your face immediately turns hot and you turn away, thankful that it was night time so your red face wasn't that obvious. You cleared your throat and covered your mouth with the back of your hand, feeling stiff at how intimate the two of you were.

He caressed your head, slightly massaging your scalp as he looked up at you, "Feeling nervous?". You turned your head back to him but looking everywhere else except his eyes, "N-no! Why would I be nervous?".

He chuckled and he took your hands into his. You panicked, thinking that he would kiss you and you about to freak out until he placed your hand on his chest, being able to feel how fast his heart was racing. "I'm nervous," he confessed, "So nervous I feel like my heart is going to burst". You finally locked eyes with him, noticing his vulnerability in his eyes as he pursed his lips. His chest rose more rapidly, and his eyes flickered to your lips.

You thought you were the only one nervous in this relationship. You thought you were a loser for being this anxious especially since this was also Sunghoon's first ever relationship. You thought that you weren't compatible with him, but it turns out he felt the same way as you, just that he didn't show it. He feels nervous just like you, but he was just better at hiding it.

Your chest began rising rapidly too, unable to form words as you slowly found yourself leaning in towards him. It was like he said, your heart was beating so fast right now as well that it could explode, and your head was spinning. You started to close your eyes and lean in further until you felt a raindrop on your head. You immediately opened your eyes and leaned backwards, looking at the sky and seeing raindrops fall down.

The people who were also having a picnic there made sounds of panic, immediately packing their stuff and rushing for shelter. You thought Sunghoon would panic and run for shelter to, but he didn't move an inch even with the rain starting.

You looked back at him and you could see him just staring at you, moonstruck at how ethereal, gorgeous, alluring you looked at this moment. He tucked a hair behind your ear and tilted his head in awe, almost wishing that this moment would never end.

"Hoon, it's going to rain," you voiced, though he probably already knew that.

"I know, but I just.. If you're okay with it, can we stay here?" a hint of vulnerability and need showed in his voice.

"You're ridiculous! Do you want to fall sick?!"

"Ah.. You're right, I'm sorry, let's g-" "Well I do!"

His smile emerged and his eyes lit up. He placed his hands on your hips and slowly lifted you up, "C'mon, let's get up".

"Huh? Are we leaving?" "No," he answered as you two stood up on your feet, "Let's dance".

You giggled as you watched him offer his hand, "Shall we?". You took his hand and he immediately interlocked hands with yours, placing his other hand on your waist as he guided you. The raindrops continue to pour, drenching the both of you but both of you didn't care. He twirled you around and extended his arm, puling you closer into his chest before the two of you continued dancing.

He rested his forehead on yours, the two of you having your eyes closed as you both moved in sync, taking small steps to the left and right rhythmically. At this point, you two were completely drenched, your hair literally dripping but you were happy to share this moment with your love.

"It's honestly crazy that I'm in this position, dancing with you," he spoke. You were about to respond until he continued.

"I never liked going out with anyone, I never believed in love, I don't like to happen up I don't even like dancing at all, so why am I in this position with you?"

You opened your eyes and you are met with his gaze. He was staring into you intensely.

"Why am I dancing under the rain with you, knowing I'd get sick?"

You knew the answer, but you wanted him to say it himself.

"You keep me up at night, and it's honestly so crazy because I'd never thought that anyone would be capable of making me lose sleep."

"Why are you so different, Y/N? How are you so capable of doing so much to me?"

Your eyes softened as you gave him a pout.

"I've always had trouble expressing myself, but I hope that you know that I love you."

Your eyes widened. He said it. Love. He loves you. Love is a strong word, and you never expected this day to come so soon since the two of you agreed to take it slow.

"I love you too," you immediately whispered with no hesitation.

"What did you say?"

You weren't sure if he was just doing that to make you say it again, or if he actually didn't hear you, but you repeated yourself. "I love you too!"

He yelled, "What did you say?!"

At this point, you knew he was doing it on purpose. You screamed, "I love you so fucking much, Park Sunghoon!"

He laughed out loud and looked satisfied. Your chest tightened as you saw his bright grin, feeling at ease with him. He yelled as well, "I love Y/N L/N so fucking much!".

You both were free to do this without judgement from others, since it was the only the two of you in the middle of the rain.

He continued, "I love her so much that I'd sell my kidneys for her!". You chuckled at the way he expressed himself.

You teased, "A bit much, don't you think?".

He stopped and cupped your cheeks, "I mean it, I really love you so much, Y/N, and I hope you know".

"Me too, Hoon, more than you'd ever know".

The two of you were leaning in until you saw in the corne of your eye something bright popping. The two of you turned and are met with the sight of fireworks. You watched the fireworks in awe with you eyes sparkling and jaw dropped, flabbergasted how beautiful it was.

"That's so pretty!" you exclaimed, feeling elated at the wonderful sight.

"It really is," he whispered. You turned back to him and realised that he wasn't even looking at the fireworks, but at you. His breath hitched for a second when you made eye contact and he gulped before gathering courage.

"Can.. I kiss you? I really want to kiss you."

You chuckled in glee, "You don't even have to ask me".

When he finally got your approval, he brought your face closer to him and clashed your lips together, tilting his head as he desperately kissed you. This wasn't your first kiss together, but all your previous kisses felt stiff and awkward. This kiss, however, was different. This kiss was full of vulnerability and passion. He knew you were the one for him, and he wanted to show you just how much he loved you.

Both of your lips moved in sync, the kiss growing more passionate as the two of you grew more needy. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you brought him impossibly closer, your body pressing against his. He manually tilted your jaw with his hand to help him gain more access to your mouth.

He sneakily slipped his tongue in and you gasped. That was the first time he ever did that, but you weren't complaining at all. His tongue fought with yours for dominance, and when he won, he took the chance to explore your mouth, causing you to moan softly. You could hear his breath hitch as he heard you and he immediately pulled back.

"Did you just.. moan?" he questioned and you immediately felt flustered. "S-shut up!" you fought back, smacking his chest and he only found you adorable.

"Do it again," was the last thing he said before closing the gap between the two of you one more. This kiss was one of the first few passionate and fiery kisses you've ever experienced, and definitely not your last.

don't forget to like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

[moremaybank]

Any Dad!JJ? You’re just one of the best at writing him.

dad!jj for the soul !!!!! i hope you enjoy, angel! i really enjoyed writing this one! 🤍

jj's elated when he sees his six year old babygirl, avery, walking out of her classroom. it's three-thirty on the dot, a time jj looks forward to daily when he picks up your daughter and takes her to work with him while they wait for you to meet them there after work.

avery reaches him, and he crouches down to her height so he can press a kiss to her cheek. "hi, babygirl."

"hi, daddy!"

he loves how chipper his little girl gets when she's around him. she lets it be known that she adores his presence, and that's what he's always dreamed of as a parent.

"mama killed it on your hair today," he says. he yanks gently at one of the braids you'd put into her hair earlier this morning. "look at these. phew. think my babygirl's a model."

she giggles at her father's affectionate words, cheeks heating with love. her squeals grow louder when jj scoops her up and makes his way to his truck. he buckles her into her booster seat, ruffling up the top of her hair playfully before shutting the door and getting into the driver's seat.

"hey, daddy?"

"'sup, aves?" he asks, pulling out of the parking lot and starting on the journey to the auto shop.

"what colours do boys like best?"

he arches a brow. "what d'ya mean, sweet girl?"

"dunno...like what colour do you like most on mama?"

"hmmm," jj says, pondering out loud. "that's a hard one, baby. i think your mama looks good in everythin'."

an adorable huff escapes her pursed lips. "daddy. 'm serious. you have to pick one."

the truck zooms down the road, passing by avery's favourite fast food joint. jj can't help but speed up just a smidge, hoping and praying that she won't look out the window and wrangle a chicken finger combo out of him. 'cause then he'd have to get one for her. he's never said no to his princess and he doesn't plan on changing that any time soon.

"mm, i guess i'd say red. i like when she wears that matching lipstick too."

jj looks up at the rear view mirror, catching the way avery nods before a presumable heat takes over her face. the dimple she'd gotten from him peeks through as she smiles to herself.

"what're you smilin' about?"

"nothing, daddy. i just think i'm gonna wear red for the dance tomorrow."

he arches a brow, but he doesn't push her on her answer. "whatever you want, babygirl."

˖ . ݁ 𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

jj hears the click-clacking of high heels against the floors of the auto-shop, and he doesn't need to wheel out from underneath the station wagon he's working on to know it's you.

"hi, mommy!" avery greets cheerfully, getting off the spinning chair jj had secured for her from the break room. she runs over to you as quickly as her smaller feet can manage, and you meet her with an equally thrilled grin. you pick her up and squeeze her into a tight hug.

"hi, baby." you smooth down some of her frizz. "how was school?"

"it was good. chrissy shared her chocolate bar with me, and kyle gave me a flower at recess."

neither of you can see it, but jj makes a face under the car.

kyle? who the fuck was kyle?

"he's a good best friend to you, baby," you tell her. "did you thank him?"

"yes. and he's not my best friend anymore, mama. he's my boyfriend."

this time, you do see jj's reaction. or, rather, hear it anyway.

"what?!"

something that sounds like a bang rings through the air, followed by a shit (to which your daughter snickers, always one to find her father hilarious). then, he rolls out from beneath the vehicle, rubbing his forehead to ease the sharp pain. his eyes find your daughter's, though, and he's as stern as you've ever seen him.

"aves— you can't have a boyfriend!"

"daddy, i'm six. i'm not a baby," avery reminds him, sounding every bit like a teenager instead of her actual age. the sass never failed to make you smile.

just like her daddy.

"yes, you are still a baby! my baby!"

"j—" you interject.

"nah. nope. no way."

"why don't you go back over there and colour, angel?" she nods, and you set her down, watching as she runs back to her chair. she takes a sip of her apple juice, bringing her attention back to her artwork.

deciding she's not at all bothered by jj's theatrics, you walk over to him and help him stand. you look up into his cerulean eyes when he towers above you. "babe, relax. she's six."

"exactly! she's a baby! she can't have a boyfriend. s'just not happenin'."

you give him a knowing smile, your arms looping around the back of his neck. "you were my boyfriend when we were six," you remind him. "don't think you found anything wrong about that back then."

he frowns, but pulls you in closer by your hips anyway. no matter what, any time he's around you without touching you, it just seems like a waste.

"that's different. i was a nice boy."

you both realize avery's been listening quietly when she chimes in. "kyle's nice too, daddy. he kisses my cheek everyday at the end of school."

she says it like it's a fact. like kyle never misses out on what infuriatingly sounds like a tradition to jj.

jj thinks he's having a stroke.

"he's puttin' his lips on you, now?!" his forehead falls to your shoulder, and he slumps against you like the six-foot baby he is. "oh god, i think i'm gonna be sick." a beat passes, and then he distances himself from you. the sulk is still prominent on his face, and now, it's probably permanent. he pulls at his collar, shifting uncomfortably as he tries to fan himself off. "'m i sweating?"

avery hops down from her chair, strutting over to her father and tugging at the leg of his coveralls, silently requesting that he crouch down to her height. of course, jj immediately falls in line.

"don't be mad, daddy."

"wait, wait, wait— is kyle the reason you're wearin' red tomorrow?!"

"don't worry, daddy." she pats his cheek like he's the one who needs reassurance. to be fair, he clearly is. "kyle's nice. just like you."

and with that, she trots off back to her chair with a cheshire cat smile, clearly feeling accomplished.

"yeah. he better be," jj mutters bitterly, standing back up.

your hands reach out to grab a hold of your husband again, and it draws his attention back to you. your hands frame his face and you give him a smile. "you're gonna be a total nightmare when she grows up and gets a boyfriend or girlfriend for real."

"damn right, i will. like i said, she's my baby."

you raise a brow. "i thought i was your baby?"

his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and then his mouth forms into a smirk. "see now, she's my baby. but you're my baby." his hands migrate down to your ass and he gives you a squeeze. "you pickin' up what i'm puttin' down?"

"oh, i think i am."

concepts ; concepts (ii)

[wasteddmoondust]

little family || remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x reader 1,258 words, single mom! reader, established relationship, FLUFFY FLUFF, kid fic, maybe i just crave domesticity a/n: back to back fics like who is she... (had this in the drafts for a WHILE) omfg guys this was soooo crazy indulgent I'm gong crazy no i did not proof read but i hope you like it anway

Remus is just about to leave work when he gets the call. He sees your contact name pop up on his screen, Y/N <3.

"Hello?" he says when he picks up the call.

"Hi, Re," you reply. You voice sounds rushed and anxious. "Do you happen to be free today?"

"I am, love. What is it?" he asks softly, stopping in his tracks to listen to you.

"Something came up at work today that I have to stay and handle, could you pick up Lyla from daycare?"

Lyla, a little girl equivalent to a ball of sunshine. Though you had only been dating for over a year, he sees her as his own.

"Of course I will. I'll bring her back to yours?"

"Yes please, thank you so much. I'll buy takeout for dinner when I'm done. You okay with that?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll go pick her up now."

He hears you heave a sigh of relief over the phone. "I appreciate you so much, I love you."

He smiles. "I love you, too. I'll see you later."

Remus reaches the daycare and realises he doesn't know what he's supposed to do. He walks by the window and sees Lyla colouring in her classroom. She notices the movement and looks up from her drawing. He can't hear her through the window but she's jumping around and cheering at the sight of him, waving excitedly.

He waves back at her, smiling, then notices one of her teachers gesturing to meet her at the entrance.

She gets past the gate to the classroom, leaving Lyla behind. "Hi, I know you're here for Lyla but since you're not her mum I'm going to need your ID," she says pulling out a file from one of the shelves.

He pulls out his wallet and gives it to her and watches her scan a list of what seems to be names of parents of the children.

She takes a few seconds and finally says, "Ah yes, Remus Lupin. You're on her list. I'll get her for you." He watches the teacher look into the classroom and call Lyla.

And then he realises. He's on the list. He's on the list of people who can pick Lyla up from daycare. You put him on the list of people who can pick Lyla up from daycare.

He's snapped out of his thoughts when he hears Lyla's voice. "Remoose!" she yells, running up to him.

"Hiya, angel," he says and picks her up. His heart melts as she immediately wraps her arms around his neck for a hug. "Mummy will join us later, but for now it's just you and me, okay?"

"We can watch TV?" she asks. "And then- then play toys?"

"Mhm, that sounds like a good plan," Remus replies, and they head to your home.

Later, you turn your key to your flat and open the door. You can hear the television playing a movie and the sound of your daughter's laughter. You kick off your shoes and walk into the living room.

Remus is covered in the fake makeup from Lyla's child-friendly kit. His hair is also adorned with little flower hair clips. He sits cross-legged on the floor while she sits in his lap.

"Looks like you had a lot of fun without me, hm?" you say. Lyla jumps at the sound of your voice, immediately running to you.

"Mummy! Remus fetched me today!"

"I know, darling," you kiss her cheek. "I asked him to. Did he take good care of you?"

She nods aggressively. She runs back to Remus, who is already walking up to you.

"Well don't you look pretty today," you tease. He smiles and breathes a soft laugh.

"My makeup artist is talented. She's very serious about this," he presses a kiss to your forehead. "You hungry? I can heat up dinner."

"That'd be great, and then it's time for this bug to go to bed," you pick up Lyla. "Isn't that right?"

She lays her head on your shoulder, visibly getting sleepy as it gets closer to her usual bedtime.

"Say good night to Remus?" you turn your body, so she faces him.

Remus bends down to kiss her hair, "Good night, angel."

Lyla slowly closes her eyes, "G'night..."

Putting your baby to bed goes smoothly, and she easily winds down as she is tucked into bed. She snuggles into her blanket and looks up at you.

"I like it when Remus fetches me from school," you hear her mumble.

You smile at that. "Really?"

She nods. "I really like Remus."

"I really like Remus too, darling."

"I think you get very happy around him, Mummy," she whispers. "You were not very happy last year, but now I see you be happy with him. So I'm happy."

You feel your heart do something. Jump? Lurch? Lyla was right, being a single parent comes with its challenges and you can admit a lot of late nights were spent biting your nails and wiping tears from your cheeks. You tried your best to prevent her from seeing you in that state, but you know she's observant enough for her age.

And that's why you're so thankful to have met Remus. He accepted you despite the fact you had a whole child. He saw you not only as you but also as the mother of your child. He understood that Lyla would always be a priority to you over romance (unlike most men you've met). Despite all its complications, he has been able to fit into your lives as if he's already meant to be there.

A prime example could be taken from today. Surely he could've said no to picking up Lyla from daycare, he's just her mother's boyfriend, after all. But he agreed and handled the rest.

"He does make me really happy," you say to her. "Does he make you happy too?"

"Mhm! He always plays with me and watches shows with me. He also hugs me and kisses me. He makes me happy. He's like my Daddy."

You chuckle, trying to hide the way your heart is going crazy at that. Somehow, you take the leap. "You want Remus to be your Daddy?"

"Can I call him my Daddy?" she asks, her eyes hopeful.

"You'll have to ask him tomorrow," you say, and you wonder what his reaction would be.

"Okay, I'll ask him tomorrow. Good night, Mummy."

You kiss her forehead, "Good night, darling."

You walk out of her room to see Remus placing your plate of food on the table for you. Without saying anything, you approach him and hug him. He hugs you back.

He is silent for a while, swaying your body slowly as you hug. "You were in there for a while, what were you talking about?" he mumbles into your hair.

You take a deep breath and look up at him, chin resting on your chest. "I love you," you say.

He furrows his brows but nods anyway. "I love you, too."

"Lyla wants to call you her dad."

Remus stops swaying. What is he thinking?

"Okay," he says, simply.

You jerk your head back, "Really?"

"Of course, I love her too, you know. I'd be honoured."

Chuckling, you bury your head into his chest and squeeze him. You feel him press a kiss into your hair.

"We're like a little family," he whispers to you. And you can see it too. You, your daughter, and Remus altogether as one.

And there's honestly nothing you want more than that.

a/n: SO LIKE UM this has been in the drafts about the same time as the james one like i said this is just very very indulgent brainrot i still have plans for the james series!!!!!!! ty sm for your support <3 likes and reblogs are always appreciated.

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (6) r.cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, DUBCON, dd/lg, sugar daddy rafe, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression. little editing, barry doing barry things 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: Enjoy!

word count: 4.5k

In which your Daddy finally takes you to the country club.

masterlist

You were reading—slowly but surely. You took each sentence of the chapter book word by word, sounding out each syllable until it made sense to you. With a pink highlighter, you marked over every word you didn’t know the meaning of. You’d ask Rafe about those later or spend some time flipping through the dictionary. You flipped around in the cloud of linens you called a bed, attempting to find another comfortable position. You were reading about a girl with cat-like superpowers and the adventures she went on with her pet cats. 

Lana had told you about all the stray cats she feeds out by her house and how a lot of them will let her pet them once they’ve been around her long enough. You’ve been doing your absolute best to stay on Rafe’s good side, knowing the next thing you’d ask him was if he’d let you get a cat. You knew there were plenty out there that needed good homes, just like you did at one point. 

You didn’t ask him to take you anywhere unless he invited you. And after that lady had that outburst at the grocery store with him, his invites became less frequent. Every week, he took you to ballet practice and straight home. You reminded yourself to be grateful even for that experience since it kept your boredom at bay. When your Daddy called, you came straight away. When he told you to stay in your room, you stayed. When he held your wrist so hard that they bruised, you kept tears from escaping your eyes. When he brought you a present, you thanked him with your words and happily with your mouth. 

A knock at your door caused you to sit up straight. You didn’t ever need to respond with “come in,” as the knock was just a warning that he was coming in, not a request. Rafe eyed you, the crinkles in his eyes letting you know he needed sleep before he looked down at his expensive gold watch. “If I’m not mistaken, I was invited to a one-o’clock tea party and lunch, and my host has yet to retrieve me.”

You palmed your face, your cheeks heating up. “I lost track of time, sorry.” You closed your book, stood, and straightened out your short gingham dress, “Everything should be ready though. Bunny is dressed. I just need help carrying all the guests.”

Before you could leave your book on the bed, Rafe said, “Bring it. I want you to read me somethin’.”

You agreed although the idea made you nervous. You grabbed Bunny, who was dressed in a matching gingham outfit, and then directed Rafe over to your mountain of stuffed animals. Impressively, he grabbed the six stuffed animals in one fell swoop, “Got ‘em, let’s go.”

Now that it was starting to get nicer outside, Lana suggested turning your tea parties into picnics on the front lawn. She’d laid out a floral linen sheet and placed a beautiful flower centerpiece in the middle, along with a wicker basket. You took your stuffed animals one by one from Rafe’s hand, placing them perfectly along the edge of the sheet, “And you sit here, Daddy,” You directed him and waited for him to get comfortable, “I’ll go get the sweet tea and finger sandwiches!” 

“Don’t run!” Rafe shouted after you as you hurried back into Tannyhill. As soon as you were out of his line of sight, you picked up your speed, looking to find Lana. 

You found Lana in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the array of desserts, “These look beautiful, Lana!” You exclaimed as she finished piping pink icing onto the cupcakes. You opened the fridge to grab the pitcher of sweet tea. “Did you make sure to add extra lemons? He really likes extra lemons-“ 

“Yes, I did, I know,” Lana responded, “Don’t be so worried, it’s just Rafe.” 

You set the pitcher on the counter, taking a deep breath, “He wants to hear me read my book, Lana.”

“So? You’ve been doing so well in our lessons! You sound great to me when you’re reading and you’re only going to get better. The long, fancy words will come later,” She lifted the tray of sandwiches and desserts and you took it into your hands, “You’re a smart girl.” 

“I am?” Lana smiled warmly, making sure you were carefully holding both the pitcher and tray. 

“Yes, you are,” She assured you, “Go enjoy your lunch. Afterward, you’ll help me with the laundry, right?”

You beamed back at her, “Okay, I’ll see you soon.” 

When you made your way back to the front lawn, Rafe was where you left him but his phone was pressed to his ear. As soon as he saw you, he said, “---Everyone has dirt. Everyone has a weakness. Find it. I gotta go, I really don’t want to hear about this shit again.”  You carefully set down the tray and pitcher, Rafe having intense conversations over the phone having become very natural to you. 

Rafe let out an annoyed breath, setting his phone down, “Doesn’t it look delicious, Daddy?” You asked, cutting through the tension. 

Rafe nodded, “It does. This is the highlight of my day,” He admitted, “You’re the highlight of my day, Bambi.” 

Your nervousness slowly turned into eagerness as Rafe looked at you. He always looked at you like you were something precious, even if you felt the opposite, and you found that you could easily be yourself around him. Although it seemed you were figuring out who you were every day that you were at Tannyhill. 

You poured Rafe’s drink into an antique-looking glass, one that Lana had entrusted you with taking care of, “Made just how you like it,” You handed it to him and promptly began to hand out the rest of the dishware, making sure Bunny and your stuffed animals had tiny replicas of them. With small tongs, you carefully placed sandwiches on your and Rafe’s plates, “I like pickles now. They aren’t so bad.”

“Oh, thank God,” Rafe responded with his mouth full, already halfway through his first sandwich, “I was really worried there for a second.”

You giggled, “You were worried?”

“I was as soon as you tried one and said you didn’t like it,” Rafe said, which made you laugh more, “This just confirms you’re perfect. And open-minded. And beautiful.”

“Me liking pickles means that I’m beautiful.” You were trying to follow his logic, your cheeks heated in embarrassment, but he interrupted you with a messy kiss.

As you finished up lunch, you found yourself entangled with Rafe, your legs over his lap and leaning against his chest as you opened up your book. You hoped starting with chapter one would make it easier, knowing you’d read it at least five times this morning. Luckily, you now had someone who could tell you the meaning of the words you had the most trouble with. Rafe used the strategy of not only defining the word but using it in an example sentence. 

“Ill-u-min-ate.”

“Every time you walk into a room, you illuminate it with your beauty.” 

“Haz-ar-dous.”

“It would be very hazardous to get between me and my Bambi.”

“Fuh-ruh-strat-ed.”

“Seeing you naked gets me extremely frustrated.”

“I thought you said it meant to angry,” You countered, and you could feel him grinning. 

“Words can mean different things,” He spoke cryptically, “Hey, you know, I’m really impressed with your reading, Bambi.”

You straightened up and turned to look at him, “You mean it?”

“I’m really proud of you,” he nodded. “I wasn’t sure if Lana could help you all on her own, but I think you’re making good progress.” 

You wrapped your arms around him, immediately needing to physically express your satisfaction, your weight effectively toppling the two of you over. Pride was a new feeling that you were getting used to. “Does this mean I could go to a real school? Like in the movies? Maybe law school? Like Elle Woods?” You straddled Rafe, his hands gently exploring the backs of your thighs.

“Are you talking about Legally Blonde?” Rafe’s eyebrows raised, his eyes undoubtedly flashing to a past memory, probably related to his sisters, “Did Lana show you that?”

“It was really good,” You nodded, “How far away is Stanford?”

“Far,” Rafe stated, and you got the feeling he wasn’t explaining as much as he could, “Let’s not  — uh, let’s focus on just reading a chapter book. Once you’re reading like Shakespeare and shit, we can talk about college.” 

“Okay,” You agreed, pressing your nose to his, “How many books do I have to read before we get a kitty cat, Daddy?”

“I see what you did there,” Rafe stared you down. You gave him a mischievous look as you pressed your lower half closer to his. “I think Daddy’s going to need a lot of convincing on that idea as well.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt Rafe’s fingers trailing over your panties, “What can I do to convince you, Rafey?”

You saw the lust in his eyes. That was one nickname he seemed to like even more than Daddy. “Slide those panties to the side and take Daddy’s cock out.”

“But the guards–” You rushed out, and Rafe’s grip tightened on your thighs. 

“You didn’t seem to mind when you climbed on top of me,” Rafe countered, “C’mon, you have to finish what you started, little girl.”

After those words, you tried to ignore the idea of one of Rafe’s men catching a glimpse of what the two of you were doing. You did as Rafe said but as timidly and covertly as possible, sliding your panties to the side and then undoing his zipper. Like Rafe had taught you before, you spit into your hand, rubbing the liquid against your hole and using the rest to lubricate his tip. 

You looked Rafe in the eyes before he could command you to, and Rafe gave you the same proud look that he had on his face when he complimented your reading skills. Rafe sat up on his hands, and as you placed him against your entrance, you made sure the skirt of your gingham dress was fully covering your ass. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you slowly enveloped every inch of him. 

You whimpered into his ear, already feeling overwhelmed. Your thighs burned as you tried to move up and down his length, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were doing it wrong. You and Rafe didn’t often have sex in this position, and if you did, Rafe would just end up pinning your hips in place and thrusting up into you. In this position, you were almost in complete control, and it made each sensation feel even more heightened. 

“Grind into me,” Rafe spoke huskily, “It’ll feel better that way.”

You started to roll your hips against him, and instantly you felt something building within you. With that motion, you could feel your clit rubbing against him. As you controlled the speed and how deep he was inside of you, you adjusted it entirely to your liking, and it surprised you how good you made yourself feel, “You gonna make yourself cum on my cock, Bambi?”

You gave him a shaky nod, “Y-Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Cum for me.”

You whimpered into his ear, suddenly burning up even though you were directly under the sun. “Thank you, thank you,” you muttered breathlessly. “Thank you, Rafey.”

“Look at you,” Rafe said, “My grateful little girl is squeezing me so good. Keep going, baby.”

Rafe squeezed you tightly in his arms like he was hugging you as you felt him fill your insides. “Fuck,” Rafe grunted in your ear, “Didn’t know you were so good at that.”

Rafe was doing something he promised himself he’d never do. 

Maybe this would’ve been an option at the beginning of their relationship when he wasn’t so attached. The idea of doing this now … every fiber of his being was telling him that this was wrong. “Everybody has a weakness. You told me that, right? I did some digging. Some super fucking deep digging,” Barry had started. 

Atlantic Crest Properties is one of Cameron Development’s biggest rivals both on the island and the mainland. Nathaniel Sterling, the CEO, was one of Ward’s closest friends, but since his death, Rafe had struggled to maintain Nathan’s favor. In fact, he disliked Rafe so much that he was purposely starting to poach Cameron Development’s construction laborers and spreading misinformation about the company’s financial status. 

Rafe had worked hard to dig the company out of debt, and Sterling was preventing future investors from giving the company a chance, “There’s this high-end bar on the mainland that he always visits, placed called the Platinum Parlor. This guy is there every weekend, at least. One of my boys tells me that the place is basically a front for a swingers club. They won’t let you in unless you’re a member, and there’s like secret codes you use to, you know, get access to what you’re looking for.”

“Get to the point, please.”

“Basically, he’s a freak. He always asks for a girl named Venus. My boy was telling me this, and I realized I knew that girl; she used to buy from me. I rode over there looking for her before her shift started, and I offered her some powder for some information. She couldn’t tell me everything, but he’s shown her videos of him doing some stuff, and he always asks that she wear pigtails, a plaid skirt, glasses, the whole school-girl look …” Rafe listened as Barry delved further into all the debauchery he’d heard. 

“...what are you implying, Barry?”

“I’m trying to say you have the perfect tool to solve yo’ problem. This is the only thing the dude gets off on, and I know his wife ain’t home dressing up for him. You have the most innocent girl in the world, and she actually likes wearing her hair in pigtails.”

“I know you’re not telling me I should let him fuck her–”

“No, no, Rafe! I’m saying that you can let him think that he can for as long as you need him to. That’s your in.”

“Fuck, I don’t wanna do that.”

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing you’ve ever done, country club.”

Barry was right about that. 

You liked the way the Kooks dressed, and they all seemed to exude happiness. They matched and coordinated every piece of their outfits, and even the ones playing sports had at least one piece of expensive-looking jewelry on. 

Rafe’s black polo and khaki shorts were nicely pressed, and he looked every bit like a seasoned golfer. He also gripped the golf cart’s wheel in one hand, carefully and quickly navigating the expansive green course. 

After you made your first stop, Rafe started by showing you the basics of acting as his caddy. He pointed at the clubs he would most likely be using and made you practice grabbing them. He also placed you in charge of keeping up the scorecard, slowly explaining all the numbers you were meant to help keep track of. You quickly learned this was a more complicated game than you imagined, and you weren’t sure how much fun it would actually be to play it.

Still, you were overjoyed that Rafe had even invited you out of the house to the country club, of all places. You spent a total of two hours deciding what to wear that morning until Rafe ultimately made the decision for you, choosing a short-sleeve, collared white dress. He also helped you tame your hair into two high ponytails wrapped in pink bows. As soon as you saw how cute you looked, you made sure to ask Rafe if they made golf dresses in Bunny’s size. 

You watched intently as Rafe stepped up to the first tee, positioning his feet and adjusting his grip on the club with practiced ease. With a smooth swing, he sent the ball soaring through the air, landing neatly on the fairway with a satisfying thud.

“Wow,” Your mouth hung open as you watched, “That was amazing, Rafey!”

“You wanna try it?” 

Hands behind your back, you nervously stepped closer, “Relax,” Rafe said, “I’m gonna help you.”

The actual golf club was much heavier than you were expecting and probably too tall for you, but Rafe adjusted your position accordingly. You felt him pressed against your back, his strong arms enveloping your frame and his hands wrapped around yours. “You’re always going to start with a tight grip, and then it’s all about your stance.” Rafe placed his leg between yours, kicking your feet apart until they were about shoulder-lengths apart, “Bend your knees for me, sweet girl.” 

“This feels … hazardous,” You tried and you felt Rafe’s chest vibrate as he chuckled. 

He stepped back from you, “Try bizarre,” You nodded, mouthing the word quietly, but kept your stance, “But you look great. Now, for the backswing. When you swing, you’re going to keep your arms straight and shoulders relaxed, and I want you to turn your upper half until the club is all the way back.”

You tried to follow his list of instructions, but Rafe ended up grabbing ahold of you again to demonstrate the motion, “You’re going to let the club flow naturally through the ball,” He guided you until you were ready to entirely give it a go, “You got this, Bambi.”

You obeyed Rafe’s final instruction and were surprised that you actually hit the ball, although it landed about five feet in front of you. “Look!” you jumped from excitement. 

“You did it,” Rafe grinned, “Wanna try again?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but your voice trailed off as another golf cart approached. Instinctively, you closed the gap between you and Rafe. 

“Mr. Cameron!” An older gray-haired man, maybe in his 50s, approached, grin hidden partially by a thick mustache, “So lovely of you to grace this fine club with your presence after so many years.”

His deep and commanding voice soon matched his stature as he climbed out of the cart. A shorter, younger man was riding in the passenger side. A gold name tag was pinned to the left side of his chest. “Mr. Sterling,” Rafe greeted back, and you looked up to see a tight, slightly painful grin on his lips. “From what I’ve heard, you frequent this place a little too much. Do they have a reserved parking spot for you yet?”

Mr. Sterling let out a pinched laugh.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” 

It was then that the tall man made deep, soul-searching eye contact with you, “Bambi, this is Nathaniel Sterling. He owns Atlantic Crest Properties, which operates here on the island. Nathaniel, this is my girlfriend, Bambi.”

Nathaniel reached out a hand, and you officially felt you’d been thrown into the spotlight. You hadn’t interacted with anyone outside of Tannyhill or your ballet class. Rafe nodded slightly, signaling that it was okay to accept his hand. The man’s grip was strong and calloused.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bambi,” He greeted you. 

“Hi,” You spoke softly, “You do work like Rafe does?”

“Oh, yes, and much better, sweetheart,” You smiled, believing he was trying to make a joke, “I saw your swing on the way up. With some more practice, I can see you becoming a pretty good player.”

“Really?” Your eyes widened. 

“Rafe’s gonna have to get you your own set of clubs,” Nathaniel smirked. “Or maybe you can have my daughter’s since she only uses them sparingly anymore.”

“That would be–” The words came out faster than you could stop them, “That’s a really kind offer, Mr. Sterling.” 

You looked up at Rafe, excited by the offer, “I’m sure I can afford a new set,” Rafe stated. 

“Anyways,” Mr. Sterling coughed to clear the tension, “If the two of you aren’t too exhausted after your game, you should join me at the Steakhouse for an early dinner. Why waste the opportunity for us to catch up.”

You got a similar feeling to when you were around Barry and Rafe, like the two of them were having a conversation with their eyes. Mr. Sterling seemed intimidating, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted to see more of this place. 

“Sound good,” Rafe agreed, which you were grateful for, “We’ll see you there.”

After playing a few more holes and Rafe finishing your crash course on golf, he started showing you around. There were two Olympic-sized pools, a spa, daycare, and gym, and they even offered horse rides along the beach on special occasions. The two of you explored a women’s boutique—well, you explored it while Rafe had a conversation over the phone with Barry. You noticed Mr. Sterling’s name come up a few times but became distracted when you saw the perfect dress. 

Although you thought Rafe might say it was too fancy for dinner, Rafe immediately called the attendant over so you could try it on. It was princess style, with short sleeves tied with cream-colored ribbons and a skirt flowing out in three tiers. The attendant helped you into the corset, and you were practically locked in by the time you showed Rafe. 

He was already leaning against the payment counter, black card in hand. “We’ll take it; she’s going to wear it out,” he said as you twirled around. “You want anything else?”

“No,” You spoke breathlessly. “This is perfect. Thank you, Rafe!”

Rafe entwined his fingers with yours and held your hand throughout the entire walk to the restaurant. You found Mr. Sterling waiting for you at a table in the corner of the restaurant, with large windows on either side of him that looked out onto the beach. As he waved you over, Rafe leaned down to whisper to you, “You don’t have to say anything or answer any question you don't want to.” 

“Okay,” You said softly, knowing he was just looking out for you. 

“Rafe, Bambi,” He said as the two of you approached. You took the seat closest to the window after Rafe pulled it open for you, “How was the rest of your game?”

Despite the words he just told you, Rafe looked at you first as if he wanted you to answer, “It was really good,” You replied, trying to maintain a certain level of confidence, “I learned a lot and, uhm, the weather was just really perfect today.”

“I agree, it’s a beautiful day, and let me also say how beautiful you look in your dress, Bambi,” You had to glance away, a reflexive gesture to hide the embarrassed gesture that reached your face. You smiled despite the fact that your face was trembling, “It’s new?”

“Y-Yes, thank you. That’s—" You remembered the menu sitting on the table in front of you, and then you realized you were far too nervous at that moment to try to read it. “Do they have ice cream here?” you blurted out. 

Rafe’s lips parted, but Nathaniel interrupted, “I think you’ll be quite happy with the dessert selection. Order whatever you like,” You felt Rafe’s hands suddenly on your thigh. He was trying to hide how tense was, but it wasn’t working. 

When the waiter approached, Rafe ordered for you, which you were grateful for: chicken fingers, mac and cheese, and apple juice. He then went ahead and ordered you a dessert called strawberry crunch ice cream cake. 

Rafe and Nathaniel bantered for a while about business and things related to Kildare that you didn’t fully understand. For the most part, you focused on enjoying your food and addressing Nathaniel whenever he addressed you. Some of your nervousness washed away because the man seemed to smile and laugh in reaction to every word that you said as if you were the most amusing thing in the world. 

Halfway through the dinner, you leaned over to whisper in Rafe’s ear. 

“I need to go potty.”

Rafe nodded before pointing across the restaurant where he knew the bathroom was, “It’s over there. Go straight there and come back, please,” Rafe felt you squeeze his hand before you got up from your seat. 

Usually, he’d love to watch you walk away, but his eyes were entirely fixed on Nathaniel, who was watching you intently. 

“She’s quite … cute,” the man said sincerely, as if he were thinking deeply. “She’s so pure … hard to believe she was a whore when you found her.”

Rafe squinted, nodding his head, “She was never a whore, Nathaniel.”

“She knows how to fuck, doesn’t she?” 

“She comes from unfortunate circumstances, yes, but I’d appreciate it – greatly – if you didn’t call her that,” Rafe tone was sharp as he leaned closer, elbows on the table, “I really want to work something out with you, Nathaniel, but you’re not going to treat me like I’m just Ward’s son. I want something from you, and you want something from me. I’ll respect you if you treat me the same.”

“You’ve grown attached,” Nathaniel seemed to brush off Rafe’s intensity, “I apologize. Really, I’ve spent a short time with her, and I’m already quite enamored. I admire you, Rafe. You’ve trained her quite nicely.”

“She’s a good girl,” Rafe tried to set his emotions aside, and the feelings he had about you that seemed to make him go crazy. He needed to be cold. He needed to be the Rafe who’s able to pull a trigger and not feel any remorse, “She’s under tight lock and key. She’s under my watch, and I know exactly where she is 24/7.”

“Cameras?” Nathaniel’s interest peaked. 

“In her playroom,” Rafe shrugged.

“Huh,” The man’s jaw clicked, “I want pictures and videos, at the very least.”

This is what Rafe wanted but he couldn’t help but feel pause. The man in front of him was desperate. He could own Nathaniel with the knowledge he was giving up and the secrets that you could probably draw from in. It was dangerous involving you, but what Barry said was true, you were going to open doors for him. 

“At the very least?”

“Yeah, everything after that we can negotiate.”

Rafe could only think for a minute because you were happily skipping back towards the table. Your hands were cradled together, open towards him and holding peppermints, “Look, Rafe, they had a whole bowl of free mints in the bathroom,” You chirped, “I’m going to save some of these for Lana if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, baby, that’s fine.” Rafe smiled at you. “I was just telling Nathaniel about the amazing tea parties you like to throw.”

As you plopped down in your seat, your princess-style dress puffing up and then deflating like a balloon, your eyes widened. “It’s really fun!” you added. “Next time, I want to paint tea-cup handles. You should come, Mr. Sterling. Is that okay?”

The two men exchanged glances before Nathaniel narrowed his eyes back on you, running a hand over his face to smooth down his mustache, “That sounds delightful, sweetheart.”

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[mandarinmoons]

Angst request you say?

Spencer frequently misses/reschedules dates because of his job, to the point where you’ve learned not to get your hopes up. When you miss a call from him, you assume he’s canceling your date for that night and shoot him a quick text, putting your phone away in disappointment- but instead he was calling to just talk or something and you accidentally stand him up.

:) - 🐈‍⬛

“I’m sorry but I can’t make it tonight. Can we reschedule?”

“I’m so sorry I missed our reservation. The case ended up taking longer than expected, I will make it up to you.”

Those kinds of messages from Spencer were a regular occurance. You knew that when dating an FBI agent it wouldn’t be easy for him to always make it to every single date, you knew you couldn’t always get what you wanted, but it was starting to reach a point where it felt pointless to even schedule something at all as you knew you were bound to be met with the same apologizes as the previous times.

Guilt was evident in his eyes every time he finally made it home. He had made sure to stop by the store on the way home to get some flowers for you as a way of saying sorry, but at some point getting a bouquet of nearly wilted tulips was starting to get old. He tried his best and you admired him for it, but sometimes you longed for something better.

After a few weeks since Spencer last canceled on you, the two of you made plans to have a small date at a nearby coffee shop. Truth be told you weren’t really looking forward to it, the past two months felt like a constant let down and you didn’t have it in you to be stood up again. Right now, staying at home by yourself and watching a movie sounded a lot better than waiting at the destination for over an hour, hoping for Spencer to show up.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard your phone ring. Looking at the caller, it was none other than the man you had just thought about. You didn’t feel a need to hurry to answer it, you carried on washing the dishes as if you had no care in the world, which at this point you really didn’t.

The phone continued ringing for a minute or so before it stopped and a missed call notification popped up. Finishing the last of the dishes, you dried your hands and picked up your phone, opened the messages and typed out a quick response, not bothering to call back as you didn’t have the energy to deal with his excuses again.

“I’m not feeling too good. Not going to be able to make it.”

Simple and straight to the point. Not too emotional because a part of you wanted him to feel the coldness, whether he would pick up on it or not you didn’t care about. He knew he had disappointed you more than a handful of times, so this shouldn’t be something shocking to him.

As Spencer received your text his lips were quick to turn into a frown. Were you sick or was there something else going on? Looking at the vase on his desk, a fresh bouquet of daisies were sitting, waiting to be handed to you.

Spencer knew deep down why you had canceled on him, he was surprised you had been this patient with him for this long. But even the most forgiving people have their limits and it was clear that you had reached yours, which he wasn’t mad at, but he was disappointed in himself that he had let himself drag this on for far too long, to a point where he didn’t know if he could regain your trust, or worse, if you’d even want to see him again.

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