#summer's blending adventures

[sovaharbor]

HOLY FUCKING SHIT

[vhvrs]

i talk abt/ draw summer so little but she is like. my fav fav i love her sooo much n i love the specific niche she presents to the story that i rarely ever see in media but also rnm does a LOT of casual things u rarely see in long form media I LOVE HER!!!!!!!

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

been thinking about what i'd do with rick and morty if i got my grubby little hands on their IP

[writingforstraykids]

Okiee,

Hear me out. Need more dad skz series. I loved the Felix one so much 🤗🤗 Maybe Hyun or Minho as single dad series 🥹

🧚‍♀️ Anon

I don't know why but Minho with a toddler sent our thoughts spiraling and @galaxycatdrawz and I came up with enough for a proper series. I hope you enjoy it dear🤭🖤

Always back to you

Pairing: Minho x m!Reader (mention of OT8)

Word Count: 7716

Summary: Balancing his career and personal life as a single dad of a toddler isn't exactly always easy for Min. Luckily he has you, his assistant and the only person his son lets close enough. Minho couldn't be more grateful for your presence in their life.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, single dad!min, angst

PART TWO

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

The summer air is heavy with the scent of blooming jasmine as Minho walks hand in hand with his son Minjun through the bustling streets of their quiet neighborhood. The day is fading into a warm, golden evening, casting long shadows on the sidewalk as they make their way to the local park.

Minho, usually surrounded by stage lights and the constant hum of a lively crowd, cherished these moments of normalcy. His career often pulled him into whirlwinds of tours and interviews, making these quiet, uninterrupted days with Minjun so much more important and special.

As they approach the park, Minjun’s grip tightens with excitement, his little legs speeding towards the familiar rusty swings and the slightly chipped slide he claims as his castle. Minho watches, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as Minjun throws himself into the simple joy of play. His son's laughter rings clear, blending seamlessly with the distant sounds of other children.

“Daddy, come!” Minjun calls out, tugging at Minho’s jeans, pulling him towards the sandbox.

Minho sits down beside Minjun, rolling up his sleeves and helping him dig and mold the damp sand. They work together, Minho guiding Minjun’s small hands to shape the walls and towers. He listens intently as Minjun explains the details of each tower and the imagined dragons that would guard them.

“Daddy, dragons need names!” Minjun declares, his brow furrowed in the serious concentration of a three-year-old.

“How about Flame and Spark?” Minho suggests, watching as Minjun’s face lights up with approval.

“Yes!” Minjun beams, his hands moving with purpose as he places tiny sticks to represent the fearsome dragons.

As they played, Minho felt the weight of his other world—the stage, the lights, the music—melt away. Here, in the sandbox, none of that existed. There were no cameras, no managers, no fans. Just him and Minjun, building a sand fortress strong enough to withstand any siege, imaginary or otherwise.

After their castle was deemed sufficiently dragon-guarded, Minjun tugs at Minho’s hand, leading him to the ice cream stand nestled at the corner of the park. The line is short, and soon Minjun is proudly holding a cone much too big for him, dripping chocolate down his arm.

“Look, Daddy! It’s melting!” Minjun giggles, licking his arm in an attempt to catch the runaway ice cream.

Minho pulls out some napkins, cleaning up the sticky mess with a practiced hand. He watches Minjun attack the cone with a grin, chocolate smearing over his cheeks and nose.

“Is it good?” Minho asks, giggling, his heart swelling at the sight of such simple happiness.

“So good!” Minjun announces, offering Minho a taste. The ice cream is sweet, and the rich chocolate flavor is a perfect end to their day out.

They find a bench nearby. Minho listens as Minjun rambles on about the adventures of Flame and Spark, his imagination running wild. The park begins to empty as families head home for dinner, the sky painted in strokes of orange and pink. “Dumpling?” Minho asks softly, and his son looks up at him with big, brown eyes. “Daddy needs to work tomorrow again.”

“Daddy, why?” Minjun’s question comes softly, almost lost in the breeze.

Minho’s heart clenches. It is a question he dreads, knowing his answers might never fully satisfy the curiosity of a three-year-old. He pulls Minjun closer, holding him in a gentle embrace. “You know how Daddy dances and sings for many people?” Minho starts, his voice steady despite the ache in his chest. Minjun nods, his eyes wide. “Well, sometimes Daddy has to go places so all those people can see him perform. But I always come back. Do you know why?” Minjun shakes his head, his eyes searching Minho’s. “Because you are my most important audience. And I promise, no matter where I go, I will always come back to you,” Minho says, his words heavy with the truth of his emotions.

Minjun seems to try and comprehend this for a moment, then smiles, seemingly satisfied with the answer. “Promise?” he holds up his pinky.

“Promise,” Minho links his pinky with Minjun’s, sealing the vow. “Let's go home?”

“Home,” he nods satisfied.

Minho would've never had a child this young in this industry if he would've known what would happen. He and his wife got married rather young as well, soon deciding they'd like to have a kid. Mainly because she didn't want to be alone so much with him gone for work often. Everything seemed fine until it turned out they'd be having a boy and not a girl. His wife had wished for a girl dearly and seemed disappointed. Maybe he ignored how much because once their little wonder was there, his wife soon distanced herself from both of them. They were already in the process of getting a divorce when Minho had accidentally listened in to a phone call from her saying she'd probably give up their son for adoption.

Minho knew he couldn't let that happen. He couldn't risk his sweet baby ending up in a family that maybe wouldn't treat him well, so he had long talks with his friends, who promised to support him. Chan made sure to back him when they talked to their boss, making sure that Minjun could stay at the company or on tour. They all knew Minho would be able to focus on his work more, knowing he was within reach when his little boy needed him. The only issue at hand was how much Minjun dreaded being separated from Minho, barely trusting his friends to take care of him for a while.

That was until you came along. Somehow, you found a way to the little boy's heart that made him trust you. You were the only one besides Minho who could calm him down and keep him occupied. Initially, you've simply been Minho's assistant, helping him keep track of his schedule and everything. But being with Minho meant being with Minjun.

Through this, you grew rather close with all of them, becoming a vital part of their group. Minho was thankful to have you around, and you two worked well together. You love taking care of the little one and you would've never expected to get so close to them, especially Minho, seeing him during his rawest moments.

-

Minho is up early, as usual, feeling the quiet anticipation that always comes with a new day. Today, he'd take Minjun with him to dance practice.

The morning was a rush of activity. Minho prepared a quick breakfast, all the while keeping one eye on Minjun, who seemed happy about accompanying him to work.

"Are you ready, baby?" Minho asked, slipping on Minjun's small backpack filled with snacks, a change of clothes, and, of course, his favorite bunny plushie. Jisung had bought it for Minjun's second birthday and he hasn't left the house without it ever since.

"Yes, Daddy!" Minjun chirps, practically bouncing on his toes. His enthusiasm is infectious, and Minho can't help but laugh as he scoops up his son and heads out the door.

The drive to the studio is filled with Minjun's questions about everything he saw. Each question is punctuated with wide-eyed wonder, making Minho smile. He explains as much as he can, from the tallest buildings brushing the sky to the bustling morning crowds. Upon arriving at the studio, Minho sets Minjun down, taking his hand as they walk inside. The building was already buzzing with activity, music faintly echoing from the practice rooms.

"Guys, look who I brought!" Minho announces as they enter the main dance studio. The music stops abruptly, and the boys turn around, their faces lighting up at the sight of Minjun.

"Minjunnie!" Chan exclaims, his voice full of warmth. He crouches down to Minjun's level, greeting him with a gentle high-five. "Look how much you've grown already again!"

The other members crowd around, each taking turns to say hello. Felix shows Minjun a quick magic trick, pulling a coin from behind his ear, which delighted Minjun to no end. Hyunjin hands him a small package of his favorite gummy bears, and Innie helps open it.

“Y/nnie should be here soon,” Jisung tells them, glancing up from his phone.

Minjun peeks up at the sound of your name, bouncing excitedly. “Y/nnie?” he asks with wide eyes, turning to Minho.

“Yeah, Y/nnie will play with you,” he laughs at his son’s excitement.

“Gosh, he really loves him,” Seungmin laughs.

“As he should, Y/n is taking such good care of him,” Changbin chuckles, and Minho hums agreeingly.

Minho sets up a small, cozy corner for Minjun with some toys and a soft blanket. "You can play here while Daddy practices, okay? I'll check on you all the time."

Minjun nods, already distracted by the toys, but his eyes keep straying to the center of the room where the dance practice will take place.

You join them soon after, greeting them all with a wave. “Hi, buddy,” you greet Minjun cheerfully and sit down on his blanket next to him.

“Hi,” he smiles at you happily, handing you his fire truck. “Play?”

As the practice kicks off, Minho joins the rest of the group in the center. The music pounds through the speakers, a rhythmic base that fills the room with vibrant energy. Minho was in his element, his body moving with precision and grace, a testimony to years of practice and passion.

Minjun watches, wide-eyed, from his corner. The sight of his dad and the others dancing seemed to fascinate him. His little feet tap along to the beat, and it isn't long before he stands up, mimicking the moves in his own adorable way. He stumbles and lands on his butt, giggling at himself as you help him back up again.

“You're okay, dear?” you chuckle, and he nods.

Seeing this from the corner of his eye, Minho felt a surge of pride. During a brief water break, he walks over to you. "Do you want to try dancing with us for a bit?" he asks.

Minjun's enthusiastic "Yes!" was all the answer Minho needed. He leads Minjun to the center of the room, the members clearing some space for them. Minho shows him a simple move, a gentle sway combined with a clap. Minjun follows eagerly, his small body moving in sync with Minho's.

The room is soon filled with cheers and claps from the other members and you, encouraging Minjun, who beams under the attention. Chan turns down the music and suggests, "Let's do a little dance circle. Minjun can start!"

What followed was Minjun at the center, trying his best to keep up, his movements more enthusiastic than rhythmic. Each member joined in, adding their own moves, making it a fun, chaotic dance party that had Minjun laughing uncontrollably. You laugh watching them, seeing how much fun they have with the little boy.

After the dance circle wound down, Minho takes Minjun back to his corner, both panting slightly from the exertion. "You're amazing," Minho praises him softly.

“Takes after his Daddy as it seems,” you chuckle, and Minho smirks.

“My little dancer,” he smiles fondly, poking his son's cheek. Minjun's proud little smile is worth more than any applause Minho had ever received on stage.

You hand him the juice box Minho packed for him and help him with the straw. “Drink something,” you tell him gently, and Minjun does eagerly. You bite back a laugh at him, kicking his feet happily.

As the practice resumes, Minjun's energy eventually fades. He plays with you quietly with his toys, occasionally glancing up to watch his dad. The day passes in a blur of music, laughter, and dance. By the time practice wrapped up, Minjun was dozing off in his little corner, exhausted by the day's adventures. His head resting on your leg, breathing peacefully amidst the chaos. Minho carefully picks him up, his heart full as he feels Minjun's steady breath against his neck. “Thank you,” he smiles at you as you pack up everything for him and hand him the backpack.

“Of course,” you mirror his smile. “Tomorrow, we'll meet at the studio.”

“Yeah,” Minho nods. “When was it again?”

“At ten,” you tell him. “Do you need me to keep an eye on Minjun?”

“That would be great,” he nods gently.

“Okay, I'll be there,” you assure him, grabbing your jacket.

“Thank you,” he nods quickly.

“Mr. Lee - Minho,” you quickly correct yourself, sometimes still falling back into old habits. “You don't have to thank me all the time. It's fine.”

“Still,” Minho shakes his head. “It's a lot easier thanks to you…Do you need a ride home?”

“I'll be fine, thank you,” you assure him kindly. “You should get the little superstar to bed,” you say fondly, making Minho chuckle. You exchange your goodbyes before you both leave.

"Did you have fun today?" Minho whispers as he carries Minjun to the car.

"Mhm... best day," Minjun mumbles sleepily, his words slurring together.

Minho smiles, his eyes soft as he settles Minjun into the car seat. "Me too, buddy. Me too."

-

Minho's day starts early again, but this time there's a tangible buzz of excitement that courses through him. Today isn't just about dance practice; he's scheduled to record a new track with Chan, and he's bringing Minjun along to the studio once more. As they prepare to leave, Minho checks that he has everything Minjun might need—snacks, toys, and a little book of stories, just in case the session stretches longer than expected.

Minjun, now familiar with their routine, waddles around excitedly, chattering about seeing “uncle Channie” and the "music room."

The drive to the studio is filled with Minjun's usual observations, his voice a constant, cheerful hum in the background. Minho answers each question with patience, his mind simultaneously running through the lyrics and melodies he'll soon be recording.

Upon arrival, the studio feels like a second home. The familiar faces of the staff greet them warmly, and the scent of coffee mingles with the underlying electrical buzz of equipment. Chan is already there, headphones on, nodding along to some beat only he can hear. He lifts his head as Minho and Minjun enter, his face breaking into a wide grin.

"Look who's here! Hey, Minjun, high five!" Chan calls out, and Minjun rushes over, slapping his palm against Chan's outstretched hand. “How's my little Jiho?” he asks fondly and Minho smiles at the nickname Hyunjin had come up with, which stuck.

“Good,” the little boy nods happily.

Minho sets up Minjun's little corner, not far from the recording booth, where you're already waiting, having arrived a few minutes earlier. You have brought a new set of coloring pencils for Minjun, and he dives right into them with delight.

"Ready for a big day, Minjun?" you ask, helping him spread out his coloring sheets.

"Yes! Daddy sings, I draw!" Minjun declares, his focus intense as he selects a green pencil and starts scribbling. You chuckle softly, busying yourself as well by planning Minho's upcoming week.

Minho and Chan discuss the session with the producer, going over the song's structure and the tone they aim to capture.

As they start recording, Minho slips into the booth, the microphone in front of him a familiar friend. Outside the booth, you keep Minjun engaged, but his eyes often drift to his father, watching through the glass as Minho sings.

During playback, Minho steps out to listen, standing beside you and Minjun. He watches for Minjun's reaction, hoping to see a sign of approval. Minjun looks up, his eyes wide, and claps his small hands together.

"Daddy's song!" he exclaims, and Minho laughs, bending down to ruffle his hair.

"That's right, dumpling. Did you like it?" Minho asks.

"Love it, Daddy! You and uncle Channie sing nice!" Minjun responds, and Chan, overhearing, chuckles, giving Minho a pat on the back.

"It's a hit then, we have our toughest critic's approval," Chan jokes, making you all giggle.

The session continues, with Minho going back into the booth several times to refine his parts. Between takes, he checks on Minjun, always making sure he's happy and occupied. You seamlessly take care of Minjun, ensuring he's entertained but also quiet whenever the recording light is on.

As the afternoon goes on, the final parts of the track are recorded. With the professional part of his day winding down, Minho's attention fully returns to Minjun, who by now has created an impressive array of colorful drawings. "What do you say we show these to uncle Channie, huh?" Minho suggests, and Minjun nods enthusiastically, gathering his artwork.

Chan admires each drawing, making a big deal out of Minjun's artistic skills, which makes Minjun beam with pride. "We've got a future artist on our hands, Minho," Chan says, ruffling Minjun's hair.

"Maybe, but no matter what, I just want him to be happy," Minho replies, his voice soft, filled with love.

As the day comes to an end, you help pack up Minjun's things while Minho prepares to leave. He thanks you again, gratitude evident in his eyes. "Really, Y/n, I don't know what I'd do without your help," he admits.

"It's always a pleasure, Minho. Plus, I get to spend the day with this little guy," you say, tickling Minjun gently, pulling a giggle from him.

"Did you have fun today, Minjun?" he asks his son fondly.

"Yes, Daddy! Sing with uncle Channie again?" Minjun asks, his voice sleepy but happy.

"Absolutely, buddy. We'll come back soon," Minho promises, a smile crossing his face as he focuses back on the road.

One month later

Minho sits on the edge of the sofa, his tour outfit half-on, the rest laid out meticulously across the sofa. Minjun, sitting cross-legged with his blanket clutched tightly to his chest, watches his father with large, worried eyes. The tension between wanting to be there for his fans and needing to comfort his son gnaws at Minho, creating a knot of anxiety that settles heavily in his stomach.

“Buddy, you know Daddy has to go sing for all the people who came to see us tonight, right?” Minho’s voice is soft but carries an underlying note of apology. The stage was calling him, but his heart was anchored right there.

Minjun’s lips quiver as he shakes his head vehemently. “No, Daddy! Stay, please. Don’t go!” His voice breaks as he begins to sob, tears streaming down his cheeks. The sight tears through Minho’s heart like a dagger.

Kneeling in front of his son, Minho wipes away the tears with a gentle thumb, his own eyes misting over. “Oh, my little boy, I wish I could stay... But remember how we talked about Daddy’s job? How there are so many people waiting to hear our songs?” He tries to infuse some enthusiasm into his voice, hoping to sway his son’s mood.

But Minjun was unyielding. His small body trembles with sobs, each cry slicing through Minho’s resolve. “I want Daddy... no songs... stay... please…” His words are punctuated by hiccupping sobs, each plea making Minho’s heart sink more firmly to the ground.

“Minjun, I need you to be strong for Daddy now, yeah?” he asks, but his son shakes his head with a weak sound. Minho quickly finishes dressing, he could hear the distant echo of the others warming up. The show was imminent, his cue to leave fast approaching. He merely has an hour left.

“You'll join us for a last talk?” Jeongin asks, and Minho nods, scooping Minjun up and following him outside.

Chan talks them through the process once more, glancing at Minho, who's rocking his crying son in his arms. He can tell Minho is starting to get worried and stressed out by his son's discomfort. Which is bad because they need him tonight. It's the final concert of their tour, and this is important.

Minjun wails pathetically in his arms, and Minho closes his eyes in defeat for a moment, shaking his head. “Sorry, you guys keep talking,” he says, quickly leaving the room, not wanting to disturb them any longer.

Jisung watches them worriedly and glances at Chan. “You think Jiho will be okay before we start?” he asks.

“I doubt it. Min said he's having a rough day,” he shakes his head.

“Shit,” Seungmin breathes out. “We need him tonight, Channie hyung.”

“I know,” Chan nods. “We can't help much, we know how needy his baby boy gets sometimes. We can only make sure we're all ready.”

-

Minho paces through the room, gently rocking his little boy in his arms as he talks soothingly to him. His son seemed to have realized he wouldn't see him for the next two hours, which must've caused the sudden mood swings. Minho is starting to feel stressed, glancing at the clock up at the wall and realizing he'd have to be on stage in ten minutes. He should be preparing himself mentally right now, getting a moment of peace before their intense evening. But he isn't relaxed or calm at all. The sound of his son wailing in his arms is cutting through him like knives, knowing he'd have to leave him here in a bit. He knows his friends loved their little boy, but not when he was fussing around before a show, which is why he left their room a while ago. “Shh, dumpling, please,” he tries, soothingly rubbing his back. “It's okay, yeah?”

Minjun responds with another sob, his little hand clinging to his shirt. Minho's sure his stage outfit will be stained with drool and tears later, and he feels his throat tighten as his exhaustion and frustration take over for a moment. His body will be exhausted before performing after pacing for almost an hour, carrying his son, who's only growing heavier. “Please,” he whines, knowing his own distress isn't exactly calming his baby boy.

The door opens, and Changbin shoots him an apologizing look. “Min, we should leave.”

“I know, I'll be right there,” he tells him, flashing him a stressed, weak smile.

“Two minutes,” he reminds him and leaves again.

“Please stop crying, Minjun, please,” he begs, feeling tears burn in his eyes.

The two minutes are over way too soon, and Chan opens the door this time. “Min, I'm sorry. We should go,” he tells him.

“I know, okay?!” he snaps at him, his emotions getting the better of him. “I didn't choose this, Chan, but I can't just leave him here either! I can't leave him at the hotel for that long, he's too young!”

Chan lifts his hands in an attempt to show him he's not here to pick a fight. “Min, I know, I know it's shit,” he tells him soothingly. “We can start five minutes later, but you need to get ready,” he says gently, stepping closer. “Let me take him for a moment, yeah? You should change your shirt and let someone fix your hair real quick. Come here, Jiho, hm?” Minho reluctantly lets go of him and flinches heavily as the cries of his son grow louder. He looks at Chan with tears in his eyes, who gently rocks the little one in his arms. “It's okay, Minnie, go on,” he tells him kindly. “He'll be okay.”

Minho fights with himself for a moment before leaving the room. His friends look at him compassionately as he passes them, and Felix follows him into their dressing room. He takes over for their stylist, helping Minho change his shirt and gently smoothing out his hair. “Take a deep breath, yeah?” he says gently, and Minho nods, doing as he's told. “Y/n will be here in a few minutes.”

Minho frowns at him. “No, Yongbokie, it's his day off,” he shakes his head.

“He's the only one your son accepts besides you. Chan called him a bit ago,” Felix tells him and soothingly rubs his shoulders.

Chan joins them with an apologizing look and a screaming Minjun. “He started kicking,” he tells him, and Minho closes his eyes in defeat, taking him again.

“I'm sorry,” Minho says, voice quivering as it all gets a little too much to handle. “I'm so sorry. I didn't want this, not like that.”

“We know,” Chan assures him kindly. “But we also know why you decided to pull through with this.”

Minho fights back tears, shakily rubbing his temple with one hand. He's starting to get a headache, and honestly, he just wants to go back home. “But-I know it's all getting too much,” he says shakily. “He's so clingy I can't go anywhere, and he's crying as soon as I'm gone. I know how annoying it is for you all, even if you try to hide it,” he says.

“That's your own worries speaking, hyung,” Felix assures him. “We love him, and yes, days like today are rough, but we know why you do it, and we promised to support you with it.”

“It's okay, I promise,” Chan adds gently.

You rip the door open, a little out of breath from rushing up the stairs. “I'm here, sorry, there was so much traffic!” you apologize and quickly make your way over. “You guys should go,” you urge them and gently ease Minjun out of Minho's arms. “Hiii, baby,” you say softly, smiling as the little one tiredly buries his face in your neck, hiccuping your name between broken little cries. You soothingly sway from side to side, rubbing his back and talking to him calmly. Your own calm demeanor does wonders for the little boy who grows still in your arms, little hand gripping your sweater as his body's shaking. You look up and notice Chan and Felix have left, but Minho's still here, staring at the two of you in wonder. You can spot the tears in his eyes and flash him an encouraging smile. “Go on, I got him.”

“Are you sure?” he asks nervously. “I know it's your day off.”

“I like taking care of him, it doesn't feel like work,” you assure him before glancing down at the sniffling boy in your arms. “We'll have so much fun, yeah? Your daddy has to work now, but I'm here,” you tell him and gently pat his back. “You want your plushie?” you ask and earn a weak little nod. “Go,” you whisper toward Minho, who gives himself a push. “Oh, look, here it is,” you say, handing Minjun his favorite plushie.

The boy pulls the fluffy bunny to his chest and cuddles into you. As the stage door clicks shut behind Minho, leaving the bustling sounds of the backstage crew prepping for the night's performance, the room he exits from fades to a quieter atmosphere.

The walk to the stage is the longest walk of his life. Each step echoes with Minjun’s sobs, and each beat of his heart synchronizes with the distant thumps of the bass drum from the stage. Behind the curtains, the crowd's roar is deafening, a stark contrast to the quiet, tearful goodbye he had just endured. Minho takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying to gather his thoughts. Jisung gently takes his hand, Chan squeezes his shoulder, and Felix straightens his jacket. Minho's eyes flutter back open as the music starts, and he tries to push everything else away. He needs to focus.

You hold Minjun closer, feeling his little heart beating against your own. His sobs begin to subside, his breath evening out as he clutches his bunny tightly. The stuffed toy seems to offer him the comfort he seeks, his tiny fingers threading through its soft fur.

You rock gently, humming a tune that you've noticed often calms him down. The melody is simple yet soothing, and as you continue, Minjun's grip relaxes. His eyes, puffy and red from crying, start to close. It’s moments like these, where the world slows down, that remind you why you cherish your role so much—not just as a caregiver but as a steady presence in this little one's life. You would've never thought you'd enjoy looking after a kid this much.

Around you, the room is scattered with signs of Minho and his friends' hurried exit. Costumes hang on racks, makeup kits are left open, and a few sheets of music flutter slightly from a nearby air vent. It's a world of glamour and chaos mixed with those quiet moments you share with Minjun.

Minho’s life, a blend of public performances and private moments like these, paints a vivid picture of the sacrifices and joys of his career. As you adjust Minjun in your arms, preparing to sit down with him until he falls asleep, you think about the pressure Minho faces. It's not just about being a performer but also being a father and a friend—balancing each role under the watchful eyes of the public and his friends.

Outside, you hear the faint sound of the crowd, a rumbling wave of excitement for the show about to start. It's a sound you've grown accustomed to, down to the lights, music, and energy that Minho will soon be enveloped in. Yet here, in the quiet room with Minjun finally drifting to sleep, the noise seems worlds away.

Your thoughts drift to Minho and the stress practically dripping off his body. You understand his dilemma. Being a parent is challenging enough without the added pressures of a demanding career. Minho's struggle to maintain a semblance of normalcy for Minjun while meeting the expectations of his career is a tightrope walk that few can comprehend fully.

As Minjun's breaths deepen, indicating he's fallen asleep, you carefully adjust him on your chest. You ensure his favorite bunny is tucked beside him and gently pull a small blanket over his little body to keep him warm.

This tranquility is what you hope to provide for Minho as well—a sense of peace amidst the storm of his responsibilities. As the caregiver, your role extends beyond just watching over Minjun. It's about offering both father and son the assurance that they are not alone in this journey, and you can tell Minho needs it more with every passing day.

With Minjun settled, you step out of the room to catch a glimpse of the show on a monitor in the hallway. Minho is on stage now, his presence magnetic, pulling the audience into his performance. The contrast between the father you saw earlier and the performer now captivating the crowd is stark. Yet, it's this duality that defines him.

As you watch, you feel a sense of pride in Minho’s resilience and determination. It reinforces your commitment to support him in any way you can. When the show ends, you know he'll return, exhausted but fulfilled, eager to hear that Minjun was fine, that in his absence, everything was okay.

This is your world as much as it is theirs—a world of late nights and lullabies, of cheers and tears. It's a delicate balance. As the crowd’s applause echoes down the hallway, blending with the soft sounds of Minjun's peaceful sleep, you smile to yourself, ready for when Minho returns, ready to reassure him that everything is indeed fine.

Minho is the first one to return, a relieved smile covering his lips as he sees his son peacefully asleep on your chest. “You're an angel,” he breathes out, collapsing on the sofa next to you and gently fondling his son’s hair. “He didn't stop crying for an hour, I was about not to perform tonight.”

“All he needed was some peace and his favorite plushie,” you chuckle softly. “Also, he was very tired from all the crying, so that probably did the trick.”

Minho laughs weakly and shakes his head. “You handle him so much better than I do.”

“It's basically my job now,” you tell him. “Also, you were stressed and freaking out. He can sense that and it probably didn't help him calm down,” you say softly. “Not that it's your fault, everyone would have been.”

Minho hums gently and studies your face for a moment. He doesn't know if he'll ever be able to express how much it means to him to be able to trust someone with his little boy. “You know what he calls his favorite plushie?”

“He didn't tell me yet,” you shake your head, frowning at him curiously.

“He calls him Y/nnie,” he says with a tired smile, watching your expression change to one of surprise and joy. “You mean a lot to him, so I'm glad you don't mind taking care of him.”

“Oh,” you nod in surprise. “That's sweet.”

“I thought you'd like to know that,” Minho hums before pushing himself up. “I should go and take a shower. I'll come get him after.”

“No rush,” you assure him kindly.

The others are quiet whenever they have to get something in the room and leave quickly. Chan quietly thanks you for getting here on such short notice and saving the day, which you wave off with a gentle smile.

Minho shuffles back inside a little later, wearing a comfy sweater and matching sweatpants. His fluffy hair falls freely around his face. He grabs his bag from a chair and fumbles for his phone to call one of their drivers.

“I can take you back, I'm driving there anyway,” you tell him, and he drops his phone back into the bag with a thankful smile. “You got everything?” you ask, and Minho nods, grabbing his glasses from the table. He puts them on, running his hand through his hair tiredly, and makes his way back over to you.

Minho reaches for Minjun, craving to hold his little boy again, and gently lifts him up. Minjun stirs in his sleep, and Minho quickly nestles him against his chest, soothingly fondling his hair.

“Daddy,” he mumbles drowsily, little hand curling up against his neck.

“I'm here, baby,” he says softly and kisses his head. “Go back to sleep.”

The sight of Minho like this, looking so soft and vulnerable with his sweet boy resting against his chest stirs something in you you can't really explain. A sudden urge to take care of both of them overwhelms you, and your eyes trace Minho's features. You know he's pretty, he's a visual for a reason and still, you're stunned by how beautiful he gets in moments like these.

The door opens, and Minho turns a little, meeting Chan's caring expression with a tired smile. “Everything alright?” he checks in, making sure Minho is okay after this rough night.

“Yeah,” Minho assures him gently. “We're okay.”

“You did well today, Min,” Chan tells him warmly and gently squeezes his shoulder.

“Thanks, hyung,” he says genuinely.

“Thank you again, Y/n, I wouldn't have called if there had been another way,” Chan apologizes again.

“I know,” you assure him. “I didn't mind, if you need me, I'm here,” you tell them and get up.

“You should get some rest. Do you need a driver?” Chan asks, and Minho gently shakes his head.

“Y/nnie said he'd take us,” he tells him, and Chan hums agreeingly.

“Alright then,” Chan nods before grabbing his own things and waving goodbye.

Minho exhales softly and shifts on his feet, feeling the intensity of the concert creeping up on him. His legs hurt, and his arms are tired, but he doesn't want to let go of him yet. If someone asked him to go to sleep right here he could without a second thought. He carefully tilts his head and his neck cracks at the movement. For a second, pain tints his features, and you frown at him.

“You're okay?” you ask gently, already grabbing your stuff and his bag.

“Mhm,” he hums, gently swaying from side to side to keep Minjun asleep. “Just exhausted…and everything hurts.”

“You definitely need some rest,” you respond gently, adjusting his bag on your shoulder. “Let’s get you both home.”

Minho nods gratefully, his gaze lingering on Minjun’s peaceful face as they follow you out of the room. The walk to the car is quiet, with only the occasional whisper of wind and the distant sound of the city at night. Once Minho settles Minjun into the car seat, he collapses into the passenger seat with a sigh of relief.

The drive is smooth and uneventful. You keep the radio off, allowing the silence to settle comfortably around you, broken only by Minjun's gentle breathing in the backseat. Minho’s head leans against the window, eyes closed, but you can tell he isn’t really asleep; he is just resting, processing the day.

“Y/nnie,” Minho finally speaks, his voice quiet in the dark car. “I really can’t thank you enough. Not just for tonight, but for everything. You’ve become… a lot more than just an assistant to us.”

Your heart warms at his words, and you glance at him briefly before focusing back on the road. “I’m glad to be here, Minho. You and Minjun mean a lot to me, too.”

A small smile tugs at Minho’s lips. “I'm lucky to have you,” he murmurs, his voice laced with fatigue. You can't help the warmth spreading through you at his words. If there's one thing you've learned in the years of working for him, then it's that he’s completely honest when he's tired.

As you reach the hotel, you help him gather everything and support him as he carefully lifts Minjun, who mumbles sleepily but doesn’t wake. Minho leans against the wall of the elevator, eyes closed as he fights falling asleep on the spot. He readjusts his grip around Minjun, burying his nose in his hair, and breathes calmly.

You search for Minho's keycard for the room and gently guide him down the hallway, opening the door for him. You stop there, and Minho turns around inside, flashing you a tired smile. “Come in for a moment?” he asks gently.

“It's fine, really,” you assure him.

“Let me at least make you some tea, please?” he asks, and you can tell he's trying to give you something back for today. You can't deny him that.

“Okay,” you nod and step inside, pulling the door closed. You follow Minho inside, and he tells you to drop his bag somewhere next to the bed.

Minho carefully puts Minjun down, tucking him in. He smooths his hair back and plants a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight, baby,” he whispers.

Minho quickly makes you both some tea and hands you a cup. “You should get some sleep too,” you suggest as you walk towards the small living room area, where Minho has slumped onto the couch.

“Just a few minutes,” Minho says, his eyes already closing. “I’m too tired to move.”

You sit down next to him and gently ease the cup from his hands, not wanting him to burn himself by accident. “Min,” you say gently as he tilts to the side, body growing heavy against you. “You should really get some sleep.”

“Thanks for tonight, Y/nnie,” Minho whispers as you give up the fight and let him rest his head on your shoulder.

“It’s no problem, really,” you reassure him. You pause, considering your next words. “Minho, you’re doing an amazing job with him. I hope you know that.”

Minho smiles weakly. “I’m trying. It’s hard to know if I’m doing enough, you know?”

“You are. More than enough,” you tell him kindly.

“I feel like I owe you an explanation... or maybe it’s more of an apology for tonight,” Minho mumbles sleepily.

“There's no need, I promise,” you tell him, but Minho shakes his head.

“I hate that my work pulls me away from Minjun,” he starts, his voice tinged with frustration. “And nights like tonight make it all feel ten times heavier. I worry about the effect it’s having on him.”

“You’re doing the best you can,” you reassure him. “And it’s clear to everyone, especially Minjun, how much you love him. He knows, Minho, how much you care.”

Minho nods, taking a deep breath. “Thanks, Y/nnie. I... sometimes I just need to hear that. It gets a bit overwhelming trying to balance everything. And tonight, seeing him so upset, I felt like I was failing him.”

“You’re not failing him,” you say firmly. “Every single time he looks at you, he does so with so much love. That’s not failure.”

Minho pulls back his head and looks at you drowsily, a sincere smile breaking through his exhaustion. “I’m really glad you’re here. Not just for Minjun, but for me too.”

“I told you the first day we met I'm here to make your life easier,” you tell him gently. “It doesn't matter if that's by planning your week or taking care of the little one.”

“He really loves you, I hope you know that,” he tells you and swallows at the joy in your eyes. “I… never mind,” he shakes his head and rubs his face tiredly, taking off his glasses. “I should get some sleep before I keep on rambling and keep you up.”

“You should,” you giggle. “I'll let myself out.”

“Goodnight, Y/nnie,” he says softly.

“Goodnight, Minho,” you say and decide it's your time to leave.

Minho drags himself to bed, crawling under the covers and joining his baby. He smiles as Minjun wakes up and crawls on his chest, getting comfortable there.

“Missed you, daddy,” he says softly.

“Missed you too, dumpling,” he says fondly and kisses his head. “Let's sleep now, yeah?” he asks, already drifting off to sleep.

“Y/nnie?” he asks.

“Y/nnie's in his room,” Minho answers and squints at him as his son shuffles off him and searches the bed. “Minjunnie,” he groans softly and turns onto his side.

His son makes a succeeding noise and shoves his little bunny into Minho's face. “Y/nnie!”

“Oh, I should've known that,” he laughs at himself before pulling him into a hug. “Come here now, yeah? Daddy's tired, baby.”

“Story?” he asks and Minho closes his eyes in defeat at the soft, tiny voice of his son.

“There once was a little boy. He was really tired, and his daddy was also very tired. They went to bed. The little boy fell asleep. The end,” he says and Minjun makes a protesting little noise.

“Stupid, daddy,” he laughs.

“Yeah, stupid,” he giggles and plants a few kisses all over his son's adorable little face.

“Story, please?” he giggles, scrunching his little nose at his father's sudden love attack.

Minho smiles, his exhaustion seeping away slightly in the joy of the moment. "Alright, my love, one story, but then it's really time to sleep," he says, adjusting himself so Minjun is comfortably nestled against his side, their heads sharing a pillow.

"Okay, daddy," Minjun agrees eagerly, his eyes wide with the anticipation of a bedtime story.

"Once upon a time," Minho begins, his voice soft and melodious, perfect for a bedtime tale, "in a faraway land, there was a brave little knight named Minjun."

"Like me!" Minjun interrupts with a giggle, his small fingers playing with Minho's hand.

"Yes, just like you," Minho confirms with a grin. "Minjun was the bravest knight in all the lands, and he had a magical friend, a dragon named Sparky."

"Dragon!" Minjun exclaims, delighted. "Does he breathe fire?"

"He does," Minho nods, "but Sparky only breathes fire when he needs to protect the kingdom. Most of the time, he's very gentle and loves to play."

Minjun listens intently, his imagination painting the scenes as his father describes them. "One day," Minho continues, "the kingdom faced great danger. A mysterious fog covered the land, making everyone feel very sleepy and lazy."

“What's fog, daddy?” he asks, his voice sounding a little sleepy by now.

“You know when it's cold, or it rains, and the air is all gray and heavy?” he asks, and Minjun nods.

“Fog is stupid,” he declares, making Minho bite back a laugh.

"So no one wanted to play or work," Minho adds, noticing Minjun's concerned frown. "Minjun and Sparky had to find the cause of the fog and save the kingdom."

"How did they do it?" Minjun asks, his voice filled with worry for the characters.

"Well," Minho says, drawing out the suspense, "they went on a grand adventure. They traveled through the Enchanted Forest, across the Silver Mountains, and finally to Crystal Lake, where the fog was thickest. They found out that the fog came from a sleeping spell by a lonely wizard who just wanted some friends," Minho explains. "Minjun offered to be the wizard's friend if he would lift the spell."

"Did he do it?" Minjun's eyes are hopeful, his small body tense with excitement.

"Yes, he did," Minho smiles. "The wizard was so happy to have a friend that he not only lifted the spell but also promised to use his magic for good. Together, they returned to the kingdom, heroes who had saved the day."

Minjun yawns, snuggling closer to his father, his eyelids heavy. "I like Minjun. He's nice," he mumbles sleepily.

"He is," Minho agrees, his voice a whisper now. "Just like you, my brave little boy."

As Minjun's breaths even out into the steady rhythm of sleep, Minho continues to hold him close. The story's end morphs into a quiet night. He lies there in the darkness, feeling the weight of his son's trust and love, anchoring him more firmly than anything else could.

In the silence of the room, with Minjun's soft snores as the only sound, Minho reflects on the day. The responsibilities of his career, the bright lights of the stage, and the cheers of the crowd—all of it fades into the background when contrasted with the peaceful, sleeping form of his son. Here, in the dim glow of the nightlight, Minho finds his truest joy.

He whispers a promise into the darkness, a vow to always return to this, to Minjun, no matter where his life takes him. "Always back to you," he murmurs, gently kissing Minjun's forehead. With that promise cradling his heart, Minho allows himself to drift off to sleep.

PART TWO

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @zehina @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @kevcanwait @queer-possum

[odie-mel]

Imagine that Dipper manages to time travel back to the era where Ford and McGucket are still in full swing of their investigations of Gravity Falls.

Like maybe a time historian and a time agent are sent to document the happenings of Weirdmageddon (a la the same time agency as Blending) and after the historian is documenting things one of them drops a time measuring tape - whatever. However you need to make the time travel aspect work.

Maybe Dipper, as an adult down the road, is house-sitting the Mystery Shack for Soos and while he's looking after things he finds the time tape measure in the shack. He pulls out the tape of the measure without really thinking and then when he really looks at it, he realizes what it is and it startles him enough that he drops it. When it falls, the tape goes back into the tape measure, triggering the time travel mechanism, but because it was dropped it doesn't travel back in time with Dipper. Again, whatever makes this a feasible storyline.

Dipper ends up working with Ford and McGucket while they help him figure out how to get home (he showed up in the Mystery Shack, before their very eyes, and now they're fascinated to study him as another Gravity Falls anomaly).

The amount of awkwardness he would be made to endure. Not just the nerdy, subtle (as a hammer, but they're both dense idiots) flirting betwixt McGucket and his own uncle but also the horrible Trainwreck that would have been the early Ford/Bill partnership. Poor Dipper would end up as an impromptu relationship counselor in a mad attempt to prevent Bill from manipulating Ford, and maybe change the events that led to his uncle disappearing into a portal realm for decades. Someone please save Dipper from the awkward situationship that is Fiddauthor, and the weird triangle demon that wants his Uncle carnally.

Subplot where Dipper stashes notes all over the shack for Mabel to find when she inevitably notices he's missing and she finds the time tape measure on the floor where Dipper dropped it. The twins found most of these notes the first time they ever came to Gravity Falls, and she would remember them because they were so weird - they were signed Dipper, how was that possible when they'd never been here before?, etc... Of course Dipper also wrote a note, maybe even more than one, detailing the exact time he'd been sent back to, but of course those particular notes were all impossible to find because they were all destroyed in the most narratively frustrating ways possible.

(Cue flashbacks where Stan finds one and promptly disregards it as more Ford weirdness and tosses it without a second thought, where Soos vacuums one up without noticing while cleaning around the shack one day to be extra noticably helpful to Stan, and another where Dipper & Mabel accidentally destroy one during one of their wild summer adventures, etc...)

I'm very tired, so this is half baked and not very well thought out. Please enjoy. Interact, even. Love you all, and see you tomorrow morning friends.

[uno-san]

Can i request a continuation of your first fic? Stan eventually admitting the Mr. Mystery who sent the flowers wasn’t a secret admirer but infact Mr. Mystery himself?

First of all, I am so honored to have a request for a continuation! Truly one of the highest compliments. And reading back on comments before, I should have made a second part long ago! I had so much fun writing this and thanks to all who have read my work. Part 1 can be found here. There's a small recap written in this part though so reading it isn't required :) Enjoy! Mr. Pines, Part 2 (Stanley Pines x Reader)

Nearing the end of summer was always a melancholic event. In which the busiest season of the year would descend back down to hell and allow the workload to dwindle off to a manageable amount at the Mystery Shack yet leave you with a sense of grief at another amazing summer gone. It wasn’t like that before.

Ever since becoming a full-fledged adult with a life and responsibilities, the seasons and months had a way of blending together as one week after the next you were simply looking forward to the next paycheck. It was torture. Arguably not a way of living at all.

Keyword being before.

Sure, you could do without the new occupational hazard of being killed by a mecha-suit made out of feral gnomes, mind-wiping cultists, and God knows what else. Yet despite all the life-threatening danger, you’ve never been more alive! Everyday holds the potential for a new adventure and memories to make with the friends that you never thought you had.

That was the sadness about summer ending, however. Soos would remain at the shack but your other dependable co-worker, Wendy, would be off focusing on school. The same for Dipper and Mabel, who would leave Gravity Falls and Mr. Pines- Ah.

Stanley. 

You were in the middle of sweeping the trampled wood floors of the Mystery Shack when the name made you stop in your tracks. It always did. Worse yet, it’d have you chew the inside of your cheek to stop them from heating up. It made you feel juvenile. Quickly your eyes swept across the shop and back as if you chanted his name three times. When there was no puff of smoke you let out a sigh of relief.

It was the start of summer where your more challenging trails began. That being Stanley Pines, the older man who was the owner of the Mystery Shack and your boss, who had given you permission to call him by his first name. Having done so, naturally, on a day where a secret admirer, or, ‘Mr. Mystery’ (Whom Stanley says he’ll sue for stealing his title) sent you a beautiful arrangement of flowers. God, you can still remember what a pain it was to lug the large vase back home. It was a wonder how Wendy was able to do it all herself without having a car to help.

To add to the confusion already surrounding that day when Stan hadn’t confessed to being the culprit, you were disappointed. Your shoulders slumped when Wendy had reasoned it had to be someone else. Instead of wanting to know who this secret admirer was you were instead interested in knowing when in the hell you developed a crush on the graying con man that was your boss. Not that there were tons of eligible bachelors in Gravity Falls but then they’d be in your age range! Or ones with no criminal record, strong arms, jokes, a handsome face that could draw you in at any moment to share a sweet kiss with-

Fingers snap in front of your face. The sharp sound caused you to jump in response and fumble with the broom to prevent it from falling.

“Hey, kid!”

Stanley’s hoarse voice rang out from beside you; your shoulders tensed while your newfound grip on the broom handle could have splintered it. He must have noticed the panic in your face as he quickly raised his hands as if to show he wasn’t armed.

“Oh, Mr. Stans, I-”

“Huh? I…don’t know if, what-” The perplexed expression he made killed you in a thousand ways before his head shook out the unnecessary thoughts, “NEVERMIND ALL THAT. Forget it. I just wanted to ask ya to get started on restocking the bumper sticker display, alright? Last time to peddle the stuff out while we have the most out-of-town folk. Can ya do that?”

You nod, “Of course! I’ll get started on it straight away, S-Stan.”

The smile you offered didn’t appear to reassure him any as he lingered a moment. His hands were firmly planted on his hips while he actually leaned down to inspect you. Drawing close enough into your space that you had to nearly arch your spine not to bump into the man. Under his gaze all you could do was swallow the thick lump of nervousness that always choked you when Stanley was near.

Suddenly he blinked. As if Stan had just realized how the distance between your two had closed without his notice. Awkwardly Stanley stepped back and coughed into his hand. Your overactive imagination could have sworn his cheeks were tinged pink, “Just, ah…checking to see ya didn’t have a heat stroke or nothing. You don’t, so, start drinking water before you start freaking out the tourists. Got it, kid?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead stomping off to wrangle some poor soul into buying poorly-produced and expensive merchandise. You watched him from where you stood still, now overcome with a flurry of emotions from that blundered interaction. If a Gnome Mech wasn’t going to kill you then Stanley Pines sure as hell was.

With a shake of your head you did your best to gain control of yourself once more while the day threatened to drag on. On the way to the storage room you passed by Wendy. Who, as always, was laid back. She nodded towards you. You returned it without reveling in the silent approval of a teenager before you disappeared in the backroom to grab the needed box. Luckily it was light and allowed you to grab another heftier box full of other items that were in need of refilling and maintenance. It didn’t hurt to put a bit more effort into your job, after all.

Returning to the main room in front of the counter you could finally begin your work. It was almost therapeutic. Nobody bothering you. No immediate death threats or wild twins to wrangle in. Just you and a box of bumper stickers being neatly tucked away into different stacks.

You would have started humming to yourself if something hadn’t felt…off.

Something behind you had begun to radiate heat. Breathing down your neck and causing a nervous drop of sweat to run down your forehead. Slowly you began to turn around until a hot breath suddenly blew across your face, your eyes meeting with another pair with barely a head turn.

“OH, JESUS!”

The shock of it had you bring your arm back to slap the stack of bumper stickers across the cheek of someone not all too unfamiliar. Who you now recognized as Thompson yelped at the contact and went to quickly shield his face with a previously unnoticed bouquet of roses, “Dude, duuuuuuude, stop!” He cried out while his eyes were skewered shut with pain, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“I- What-” You dropped the merchandise in your hand as if they alone had somehow enticed you to assault a poor teenager, “No, I mean…Shit. I’m sorry, I guess?” In the midst of your guilt it was hard to pin the blame on anyone, “What in the actual hell were you doing-”

“What in the actual hell- HECK is going on over here?” Stanley’s voice cut through the confusion. His heavy footsteps nearly rattled the walls of the Mystery Shack as he came to inspect the commotion. Stanley’s eyes fell onto the scattered merchandise that caused his frown to be deeper set, eyebrows furrowed in a conflicting mix of emotions. 

“Alright, there better be a good explanation for all this racket. You’re distracting the customers- WHAT IS THAT?” His eyes grew impossibly wide as he gestured wildly to the bouquet.

You opened your mouth to reply before the bell attached to the front door rang to grab your attention. Stepping through was Lee, the taller blonde teen that you’ve seen attached to Wendy’s friend group, miraculously holding a bundle of roses in hand.

“He’s lying to you!” Lee shouted and clutched at his heart in either a romantic gesture or a heart attack, “I’m the one who bought it for you, not HE!”

“Lee,” Thompson began to what you could only describe as stage-whisper in his friend’s direction, “I didn’t get to my part yet, I got frickin hit!” His hand moved to reveal the slightly pink mark on his cheek.

Lee lost his composure, “Aw, really? Bro, that’s fucking hilarious. But like…c’mon, bro, you gotta do your part before Nate gets here.”

“Wait, Nate?” Your confusion deepened as they ignored you in favor of having a whispered back and forth, with Lee pushing Thompson forward who nearly collided into you with the shove. The look you gave him was of someone afraid of a bomb about to go off.

Thompson wiped the sweat off his brow before offering his flowers with the same hand, “I like, fricken LIKE you, dude! Just love your whole deal,” He confessed with cheeks as hot as the son while he practically had to spit the words out. His heavy breathing began to pick up. Opening his palm you noticed that there was smudged ink on it that he was now trying to read, “T-That’s why I bought you the flowers-”

“WHAAAAAAAT???” Stanley suddenly roared to life while his hands tightened into fists. In a tantrum similar to a child he marched up, glowing down at poor Thompson who’d gone stark white.

“He’s lying to you! I’m the one who bought it for you, not HE!” Lee repeated. Stepping forward he cast a concerned glance towards the statue that was once his friend to present his own bundle of flowers to you.

The pollen made you want to sneeze. Impressively Lee managed to ignore Stanley to continue addressing you, “It’s true, I’m Mr. Mystery. And it’s even truer that I’m into older, uh…” He looked you up and down, “Into older individuals.”

Your brows drew closer together in concern, “How old do you think I am?”

Lee bit his lip and raised his brows in what he must have thought was a seductive look, “Old enough, bro.”

Thankfully you didn’t have to respond to that as Stanley’s hand shot forward to grab at Lee’s flowers, tossing them to the ground as if he was spiking a football and causing petals to fly everywhere. Lee stared at his hand in shock before having his attention drawn to Stanley who had the both of them in his sights and looking ready to strike.

“I’m not going to take any kinda lying in my house! Neither you or dweebus here bought ‘em any flowers. You two dorks don’t have the kind of cash for that sorta gesture anyway!”

“Uh, we totally could,” Lee said in an offended tone, “Flowers are like, 8 bucks at the grocery store.”

“The ones delivered weren’t from no grocery store, it was a specialized boutique!” “How’d you know that? Huh?”

“Gardening. Is. My. HOBBY.” Stanley passionately replied through gritted teeth.

“No, it’s not.” Wendy answered, bored.

This was starting to give you a headache in more ways than one. Especially in the sense that the few customers in the shop were beginning to stare you down, no doubt finding this whole spectacle the biggest mystery of the day. It made you want to shrink away and disappear into nothing! Sure, you were just lamenting the end to an exciting summer but this wasn’t the type of bang you wanted it to go out on!

Turning towards Wendy you had prayed she would be of help to wrangle in her friends while Stanley and Lee argued in the background. To your disappointment Wendy was hardly paying attention. To both you and her actual job while she busily texted on her phone. You waved your hand out in front of her.

“Please, a little help?” You were nearly begging, “Think maybe all your friends hit their heads at the same time or something. I don’t even know how they knew about the whole flower thing- WHAT, THOMPSON?”

The nervous teen had managed to shuffle past his friend and your boss. Apparently he had given up reading his hand to instead have his phone pulled out. His eyes would flicker between you and the screen before he tried shoving his remaining flowers back into your face again as opposed to your conveniently open hands.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May-”

“NO. No. No, no, no, noooo!” Like a sheep being surrounded by wolves you staggered back. Your growing panic is now drawing the attention of Stan and Lee who managed to stop arguing long enough to see you turn tail and run, “I’m going home until whatever this is blows over!”

What you expected to be an awkward exit quickly turned to a horror show as Lee and Thompson actually pursued you.

“W-Wait! We didn’t get to the part about how there’s soooo many other bachelors after you!” One of them yelled.

“Yeah, and that waiting too long to snatch you up will result in losing your love fooooreeevveeer,” The other, for whatever reason, said this more towards Stan. “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” You shouted off behind you while carefully dodging between both aisles and customers alike.

Seeing as you had two stalkers on your tale Stanley raised a fist, “Hey! No harassing my, uh- favorite employee! Wendy, get my crossbow!”

“No.”

If they started arguing or not after that was none of your concern as you were apparently in a struggle for your life. If your heart wasn’t going to give out on you yet then the embarrassment would definitely get you by the time you get home. God, this was all starting to feel like a fever dream. Or maybe you DID die this summer and now you were in some sick limbo?

Whatever this was, it was clearly because of one thing. The incident with the flowers you received a couple months back, to be exact. After that day there had been no further gifts. How was it connected? Especially to Wendy’s friends of all people who you had the pleasure of not interacting with much at all this summer.

Perhaps they had been the ones to send the flowers in the first place? Attempting to draw you in further with a date to pull a prank on you. Trying to film your reaction for a video that they’d laugh about for ages to come and torment you with.

But no. That couldn’t be it.

Humiliation was certainly what they were achieving right now but if that had been the goal they would have pushed for it when the flowers had first been delivered. Give you a way to contact this ‘Mr. Mystery’. But they hadn’t. So what was the point of now?

You supposed this could haunt you later instead seeing as you had two hot pursuers on your tail. Both Lee and Thompson were still flinging compliments your way while Stanley struggled to catch up between having to clean up any spills along the way as well. Whenever you were able to catch a glance of him you’d shoot an apologetic look that he’d wave off.

It was another minute of dodging the two before you were able to loop your way back around to the front of the Mystery Shack, towards the parking lot and where your car was. To safety. A part of you was even willing to mow down a rowdy teen if you had too! But fate had other plans. The door swung open and you skidded to a halt; nearly crashing into the poor unsuspecting soul who-

It was Nate.

He saw you and grinned, slowly raising a damn bouquet of roses, “Heeeeey, just who I wanted to see! Wanna take a guess at who your secret admirer is? Hint, it’s me!”

Oh, come the fuck on.

Nate must have noticed a deranged look in your eye seeing as he took an awkward step back he clearly hadn’t planned on. From behind you could hear the heavy thudding of feet as Lee and Thompson had finally caught up. Great. You looked both ways. They had an expectant expression on their faces that you couldn’t make sense of.

“Alright, alright, break it up you hormonal goblins. Get BACK, I say!”

Stanley’s voice was like the calm in the storm. It gave you something to focus and center yourself on. You hadn’t even noticed him stepping closer to you before it was too late. Two strong hands clamped around the delicate curve of your waist while thick fingers tickled into your skin. The grasp had a shiver run up your spine. Then what started as a tender embrace quickly became a vice when you were lifted off of your feet.

You actually squeaked. In a display of strength you thought only adrenaline could achieve Stanley had hoisted you above his head and out of reach from your ‘admirers’. Like the tallest kid playing ‘keep away’ in the schoolyard. From below you could see the three teen’s jaws drop at the display while a nearby customer asked if this was part of the tour.

Stan must have heard it since a blush came to his cheeks a moment after yet he refused to release you, “We’ll, uh…just go for now. Break time and whatnot…WENDY, MAN THE STORE!” He shouted while beginning to push his way back towards the employee area of the shack. It wasn't until he was passing staring customers he coughed out a reluctant, “Stop watching and we’ll have a ‘buy two, get one full price’ sale.”

That disappeared the crowd quickly who were now buzzing with excitement at the prospect of a deal. Stanley began to walk you back. With no eyes on the two of you, Stan cautiously began to lower you down. Not to your feet, however. Instead you were brought back into his chest where you had more cushion to lay against. Despite the summer heat his body warmth only drew you in. Not to even get started on how hot your face already was from blushing for the last few minutes!

Stanley meanwhile had his eyes glued to the path ahead. Afraid that taking one glance in your direction would make him regret coming to your rescue at all and depriving himself the chance of seeing you blush longer. Though it was certainly a motivator to have a couple of guys flinging compliments your way so freely as well. God. Wasn’t he too old to be getting into a pissing contest with teens at this point?

Too old in general. Both with having a silly school crush on his employee and also trying to lug you around as if he was twenty years younger. Stan made it look easy but his back pain would be coming back with a vengeance tomorrow!

With your hand resting against his chest though it was hard to deny it was worth it.

Having led you towards the back office Stanley stepped in and used his back foot to kick the door shut behind you two, blocking the light from the shop to leave you in near darkness if it wasn’t for the rare ray of light peering from behind the closed blinds. Without the stark lighting the office was almost calming in contrast. That, or you loved hearing Stanley’s steady breathing more than you realized or the soft beating of his heart if you concentrated on your hand long enough.

Stan moved for the desk. It was crowded with various papers and trinkets he’d keep around to distract himself. At first you had thought he had been in search of something in particular until his hands shifted, with one suddenly slipping just under your butt to keep you hoisted up while the now free one began to clear a space for you.

Your entire posture stiffened once consumed with the realization that your boss was, to put it crudely, grabbing your ass. In spite of how rough they looked, his hands were tender. Mindful. Which judging from his expression you doubted he noticed where he placed his hand at all while tidying up his desk. You were grateful for the distraction. That way he couldn’t see the conflict in your eyes on whether you liked the contact or not after the day you had.

“Here we go…” His rumbling voice brought you back from the brink of a new meltdown as he settled you down onto the hard surface of the desk with your legs dangling over the edge. Yet his hands didn’t leave. Instead they attached back to around your waist with a feather light touch, as if the first hint of disapproval at the contact would knock them back. You showed no such sign, so they stayed.

“You, ah…all good, then?” Stanley seemed to have trouble meeting your eye, “From the dorks. I mean, they hang around Wendy all the time and get into shit, yeah, but they’re not dangerous or nothing. But if they had hurt ya-”

“I’m fine, Stanley,” You said with a soft and assuring tone, “Traumatized, maybe, but…Thank you for saving me.”

He nearly buckled at the ice-melting smile you gave him. For just a moment his fingers tapped against your skin as if they had been tempted to clasp around you tighter. They didn’t. Instead Stanley appeared to realize how close the two of you had gotten and shuffled out of the way, taking his body heat with him as he turned his back towards you to instead fixate his attention elsewhere in the room. Anywhere but you.

Stanley nodded after what seemed an eternity, “No problem. Besides, it’d be bad for the brand to have so many ‘Mr. Mystery’ running around! It’s protected IP!”

At that you found yourself chuckling, “Is this your way of saying you’re tired of hearing about the flowers?” Not that you’d blame him considering what a hot topic it was when it had first happened.

First, Mabel couldn't ignore any degree of romantic gesture without her wanting to be involved with it. Second, this was a small town with nothing to do on the good days. Toby Determined even tried to get an interview (How word got out was beyond you) and Stanley again had to come to your rescue by chasing him off with a broom. With today’s incident you began to worry that this would be a monthly chore for Stanley.

At the suggestion of Stanley getting irritated about anything involving you nearly made him jump to correct that assumption, “NO, I could listen to it aaaall day! Just not going to just stand around and let a couple of liars waltz in to take credit for it.” He said, “I mean, c’mon, they really think those flowers were from the grocery store? Please, I- whoever has way more class than that!”

You giggled at that, which was nice considering how embarrassed you were earlier. But Stan always did put you at ease with all the jokes or lax attitude he’d have to offer no matter the situation. What others found frustrating you found endearing.

“For all the class that he has, you’d think he’d have come forward by now, don’t you think?”

He gave you a look, “What do you mean?”

“Just that it’s been all summer since it’s happened. Not a word since,” You shrug and take your turn to stare somewhere else, “Sorry. I don’t mean to sound demanding or anything. But you gotta admit it’s rude to leave someone on edge like that, you know? Just makes me think they lost interest or something.”

Stanley didn’t reply. After seemingly going out of his way to avoid looking at you, you were all he could stare at now. His lips were drawn in a tight frown that settled unnaturally on his face. You were so used to his smiles. Now your boss had an odd expression of contemplation. The way his darkened eyes bore into you made you squirm where you sat, anxiously squeezing your legs together to try and keep your blush at bay.

It was an achievement that you were able to hold a normal conversation with him at all. After the shocking realization that you were disappointed that Stanley never took credit for the original gift, your time at the Mystery Shack had gotten far more difficult outside of the daily threat to your life. Especially when Mabel was like a bloodhound when it came to romance. And when there wasn’t any to be found you could be damn sure that she’d create your own, one way or the other. She was a menace.

“Kid, listen, I-”

“I guess I should-”

Your words quickly amalgamated until the two of you stopped to give the other an apologetic glance. Then silence again. Each prompting the other to continue their dialogue with a vague hand gesture. Both of your hesitancy grew with conflicted gazes.

“I-”

“I-” Stanley slapped his hand over his face to muffle his groan, “Oh, goddammit.”

You flinched at the frustration in his words, “Sorry, sorry! I was just trying to say I should go back to work if they’re all gone.”

Preparing to hop off of the desk you were instead met with Stanley’s large hands suddenly pinning yours to the desk before you could push off. His fingers nearly interlaced with yours. They were trembling. He was towering over you again to the point you had to arch your back to make room for him. Seeing this he released one of your hands to instead place his on the small of your back, supporting your posture.

Stanley’s face was now inches from yours. What little light that came into the room reflected off of his glasses and obscured his eyes. Could he have been taking in your flushed face and wide eyes? Or perhaps he was taking notice of your parted lips. You hoped it was that.

“I…I wasn’t swearing at ya. Just frustrated that I’m not being as smooth as I wanna be,” Stanley spoke in a tone far softer than you’ve ever experienced. With his voice rumbling in his chest it was like a soothing purr. He then swallowed what must have been a lump in his throat, “Listen, it was…It was me who-”

You captured him in a kiss. It was neither passionate or loving, but something new. It was potential. In this instance it was the best kiss you’ve ever had with chapped lips. Intended to be a quick peck you could still feel Stanley’s hands grasp you tighter as his entire posture grew stiff.

A second passes and you pull back, “I’m sorry, I should have let you finish,” You laughed, both at your overexcitement and his stunned expression, “I’ve been waiting to hear you say it. Keep going, please.”

Stanley didn’t respond right away as he instead simply stared at you. It was blatantly obvious when the reality of the situation began to hit him as his signature grin stretched across his face. How could an old man be so cute?

“So, uh-” He cleared his throat, “Guess I was saying that I’m the Mr. Mystery. Both at work and as your secret admirer, though I guess not that secret if you knew…Anyways I really like ya! You’ve got spunk, looks, smarts. I mean, how was I not supposed to send any sorta flowers- You get the point!”

This time he drew you in for a kiss. His was more brash and needy as if you’d change your mind at the last second. Using his grip on you he brought you closer until your bodies were pressed against each other and he slotted between your legs to fit. So intimately close yet born from the innocent need of wanting to be near you. This kiss lasted as long as you had air in your lungs.

The both of you parted from the kiss with a dopey smile.

“I didn’t necessarily know, by the way…” You mention after catching your breath, “Just realized how much I wanted it to be you after Wendy suggested it had been sent by someone else.”

Stan hummed in amusement while his hand began to rub up and down the curve of your back, “That so? Guess all that was just your way of getting to confess, eh? Gotta admit, that’s unexpected. But sneaky. I like it!”

“What?” You tilted your head in question, “You mean what happened with all of her friends? I was just starting to think that was you.”

He shook his head. The sweet mood was paused as the both of you had a confused look while playing the strange events over in your head. Stanley snapped you out of it by giving you a squeeze; with it a reminder of your new flourishing relationship with your boss Stanley Pines. You looked back up to see his grin return and a new twinkle in his eye.

“Ehh, we can figure that out some other time, toots,” He said with a wave of his hand to push the thoughts away, “Besides, we probably have a few minutes to uh, make up for lost time, if you get what I mean.” Stanley wiggled his eyebrows at you and made you giggle.

“Depends. Does this count as my break, Stanley?”

“It absolutely does.”

“What? C’mooooon, man.”

__ Outside of the Mystery Shack, hidden amongst the trees and brush, was the sharp glare of the sun reflecting off of glass. Binoculars, to be exact. Behind them being a young girl who wore a thick sweater in spite of the heat. She was biting down on her tongue in concentration as she scanned the building from one window to the next. Where could they be?

From beside her the bushes began to rustle. The noise attracted her attention and she turned in time to capture the magnified image of Wendy’s growing teen pimples as she stepped out from the woods. Mabel chose not to comment on this.

“Status report!” Mabel said in a tone far too commanding for a young girl like her to have. Regardless of this Wendy saluted.

“Mission happened, I guess,” Wendy gave a half-assed thumbs up, “The boys kind of went crazy in there so we didn’t get the romantic confession you dreamed of exactly. But they’re alone, at least?”

“Why, they went crazy under my order, lieutenant! Their goal was to be crazy in love,” She emphasized her words with a dramatic close of her first brought close to her chest, “And nooooow I’m trying to see the romantic confession but they have the blinds closed! Could you imagine trying to hide your love?! It’s inconvenient!!”

As if paranoid something would happen without her watchful eye Mabel returned to her vigilant duty of watching a closed window. Wendy meanwhile had her gaze darted away a moment as if struggling to find what to say. Eventually she rubbed the back of her neck and coughed to get her young friend’s attention,

“You know, it’s…probably a good thing the window is closed if your plan did work, Mabel. I don’t think you’d want to see what you think you’d be seeing.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re prooobably swapping spit right now, Mabel.”

Instantly the binoculars clattered against the hard ground as Mabel nearly convulsed, “Eew, ew, EW! And that’s too much of a picture for Mabel!” Quickly she climbed out of her hiding spot in the bushes to begin following Wendy who was laughing, “I gotta go wash out my mind’s eye now!” "That's probably for the best. Let's just trust them to move that last step themselves, alright, cupid?"

Both girls were laughing now as they returned to the Mystery Shack while patting each other on the back for a job well-done.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Your baby’s first summer 🥺 exploring the beach, sand in her feet for the first time, Harry helping her walk down to the water

Sun, Sea, And Sandy Footprints.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!!

authors note - to celebrate the end of summer, here’s this cute little blurb ☺️

word count - 2.4k

in which, it’s your daughters first time at the beach, the sun is shining, the sea is cooling and this is where you realise there’s no place you’d rather be.

The sun is warm on your skin, the kind of warmth that seeps into your bones and makes you feel like you could stay here forever. The narrow cobblestone streets of the small Italian town lead you toward the beach, the sound of the waves growing louder with each step.

It’s late afternoon, the perfect time when the crowds have thinned and the golden light makes everything look like it’s part of a painting.

Harry walks beside you, holding the baby bag in one hand and a beach bag in the other, his fingers wrapped securely around the straps as if to say,

I’ve got us covered.

You glance over at him, his sunglasses pushed up into his hair, which is messy from the breeze that has been blowing gently all day. There’s a relaxed smile playing on his lips, the kind of smile that comes from being exactly where you want to be, with exactly who you want to be with.

He catches you looking at him and grins, a little wider now, as if he’s reading your thoughts and thinking the same thing.

In the stroller, your ten month old daughter Quinn babbles happily, her tiny feet kicking excitedly.

She’s the spitting image of her father—same curls, same green eyes, same dimpled smile that lights up her whole face.

You can’t help but laugh softly as you watch her, her chubby hands gripping onto the sides of the stroller as if she’s trying to push herself even faster toward the beach.

“Someone’s excited,” Harry speaks, his voice soft and full of affection as he leans over to look at his daughter. He reaches out to smooth a curl away from her forehead, and she looks up at him with a wide grin, her eyes crinkling at the corners just like his do.

Such a daddy’s girl.

“She gets that from you,” you say, your voice tinged with the warmth of nostalgia.

You can’t help but think of all the times you’ve walked this very path together, before Quinn, before marriage, just the two of you, hands intertwined, the world at your feet.

“Maybe,” he replies, giving you a playful wink.

You chuckle, the sound blending with the rustle of the sea breeze through the olive trees lining the path. “She’ll be surfing before we know it.”

Harry laughs, the deep, melodic sound that always sends a shiver of happiness through you. “She’ll be better than me at it, too.”

As you finally reach the beach, the familiar sight of the turquoise waves lapping gently at the shore fills you with a sense of peace. It’s the same beach where you and Harry spent countless summer days, where you first taught him how to surf, where you shared late-night kisses under the stars, and where you promised each other a lifetime of adventures.

The beach is quiet now, just a few scattered families and couples, the perfect setting for an afternoon with your own little family.

You find a spot near the water, close enough that the sound of the waves fills the air, but far enough that Quinn can play without getting wet.

Harry stops and carefully places the beach bag down, then turns to unclip Quinn from her stroller.

There’s a tenderness in his movements, a carefulness that shows how much he cherishes these moments with her.

You reach into the baby bag, your fingers brushing against the soft fabric of Quinn’s favorite blanket before you find your phone. You pull it out, your heart already swelling with anticipation as you aim the camera at Harry and Quinn.

“Ready, M’love?” Harry asks, glancing at you with a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. He cradles Quinn against his chest for a moment, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before slowly lowering her down to the sand.

You nod, unable to suppress the excitement in your voice as you hit record. “Ready.”

Harry gently places Quinn’s tiny feet on the sand, his hands steady as he holds her under her arms. For a moment, Quinn just stands there, her little toes curling and uncurling as she experiences the strange, grainy texture beneath her.

She looks up at her father, wide-eyed and uncertain, her expression a mix of curiosity and confusion.

“What do you think, Quinnie-girl?” Harry asks softly, his voice full of encouragement. “S’a bit different, isn’t it?”

Quinn’s lips part in a small ‘o,’ and for a second, she seems unsure. Her toes dig into the sand, and she lets out a little squeak, as if trying to decide whether she likes this new sensation or not.

Harry chuckles, his grip on her steady and reassuring. He nudges her forward ever so slightly, guiding her tiny feet to take a step.

“Go on, sweetheart,” you say, your voice barely containing your joy as you watch through the screen.

With a little help from her dad, Quinn takes a wobbly step forward. Then another. Her initial hesitation begins to melt away, replaced by a look of pure delight as she starts to move her feet through the soft, warm sand.

She lets out a joyful squeal, her eyes lighting up as she realizes she likes the feeling after all.

“There you go,” Harry says, his own face beaming as he encourages her. “That’s m’girl.”

You can’t help the huge smile that spreads across your lips, your heart swelling with pride and love as you watch your daughter discover the world around her.

Quinn looks up at you, her green eyes sparkling with happiness, the same dimpled smile that always makes your heart flutter now spread across her tiny face.

“She loves it,” you whisper, more to yourself than to Harry, but he hears you and glances over, his smile matching yours.

“Of course she does,” he replies, his voice warm with affection.

“I think we’ve got a beach lover on our hands,” you say, your voice full of pride.

Harry nods, his eyes never leaving Quinn as she continues to explore. “Just like her mama.”

You smile at that, capturing every moment, every smile, every step, knowing that this is one of those memories you’ll hold onto forever. Quinn’s laughter fills the air, blending with the sound of the waves and the seagulls overhead, and for a moment, the world feels perfectly in sync.

Harry walks over to you, leaving Quinn happily investigating the sand, her little feet kicking up tiny clouds as she explores her new surroundings.

You watch him as he sits down beside you, his movements easy and relaxed, the sun casting a warm glow on his skin.

He leans back on his hands for a moment, taking in the view of the beach, before turning his attention back to you with that familiar, playful glint in his eye.

“Think she’ll stay entertained for a bit?” he asks, nodding toward Quinn, who’s currently fascinated by the sand slipping through her fingers.

You reach into the baby bag and pull out a few toys—a colorful stacking cup, a soft plushie, and a small shovel and bucket.

“She’s got her toys, so we should be safe for now,” you say with a smile, handing the toys to Harry, who places them in front of Quinn.

Quinn’s face lights up when she sees her toys, and she immediately reaches for the stacking cup, babbling happily to herself as she tries to figure out how it works. You can’t help but smile at her curiosity, the way she’s so focused on figuring things out in her own little world.

As you watch her, Harry reaches into the beach bag and pulls out the bottle of sunscreen.

“Don’t want you getting burned,” he says, giving you a knowing look as he shakes the bottle. “Shall I?”

You nod, your lips curving into a playful smile as you turn your back to him. “Sure, but don’t try anything funny. Quinn’s right there, you know.”

Harry places a hand on his heart, feigning innocence with a mock-serious expression. “As if I would! m’nothing if not a gentleman.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head at his antics, but there’s a warmth in your chest that only grows as he moves closer.

He squeezes some sunscreen into his hands, rubbing them together before gently placing his hands on your shoulders. His touch is warm and soothing as he starts to massage the lotion into your skin, his fingers working in slow, circular motions.

“Relax,” he murmurs, his voice low and comforting as his hands move down your back. “M’just taking care of m’girl.”

You close your eyes, letting out a contented sigh as he continues, his touch tender and caring. The sound of the waves, Quinn’s soft babbling, and the warmth of Harry’s hands create a sense of calm that makes you feel completely at peace.

“You’ve got the magic touch, you know that?” you say softly, tilting your head slightly to give him better access as he works the sunscreen into your skin.

“Years of practice,” he replies with a chuckle, his hands moving lower, across your shoulder blades, then down the length of your spine. “Besides, I have to keep y‘looking this good. Can’t have you getting sunburned.”

You roll your eyes, though he can’t see it, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “You’re just saying that because you want something.”

Harry leans in a little closer, his breath warm against your ear.

“Maybe I do,” he teases, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But f’now, m’just being the responsible husband.”

You laugh, shaking your head at his words. “Quinn’s going to figure out your tricks one day, you know. And then you’ll be outnumbered.”

“Until then,” he says, his tone light and full of mischief, “I’ll just have to keep charming you both.”

Harry’s hand is warm in yours, his fingers interlaced with yours as you walk together, Quinn nestled comfortably in his other arm. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the shore creates a serene backdrop to the moment, and for a while, everything feels peaceful and perfect.

Quinn’s tiny hand is curled around one of Harry’s fingers, her chubby cheek pressed against his chest as she watches the water with wide eyes. You give her a soft smile, gently squeezing Harry’s hand as you both step into the cool, refreshing water.

The sea swirls around your ankles, a soothing contrast to the warmth of the day, and you glance up at Harry, who’s watching you with a smile that makes your heart flutter.

“Ready to give it a go, little one?” Harry murmurs to Quinn, his voice full of love and encouragement. He bends down slightly, holding her securely as he lowers her feet toward the water.

The moment Quinn’s tiny toes touch the cool water, her reaction is immediate.

She lets out a loud, startled cry, her legs kicking frantically as she tries to pull away from the unfamiliar sensation. Her little face crumples into a frown, and within seconds, tears are streaming down her cheeks.

“Oh, Quinnie,” you say softly, your heart twisting with sympathy as you watch her. Harry instantly lifts her back into his arms, cradling her close to his chest as she continues to cry, her face buried against his neck. He rocks her gently, his expression full of concern as he whispers soothing words into her ear.

“It’s okay, sunshine,” Harry says softly, his voice full of tenderness as he rubs her back. “Daddy’s got you. S’all right.”

Quinn’s small fingers grip onto the peach fuzz at the base of his neck, clinging to him as if he’s her safe haven. Her cries are quieter now, but she’s still clearly upset, her tiny body trembling against him. You step closer, reaching out to gently stroke her back, your hand brushing against Harry’s as you both try to comfort her.

“Oh angel,” you say, your voice filled with sympathy as you watch her bury her face deeper into Harry’s neck.

Harry shakes his head, his brow furrowed with concern as he continues to rock her gently.

You give him a reassuring smile, placing a hand on his arm.

He sighs, his gaze softening as he looks down at his daughter. “We’ll take it slow next time, yeah? Maybe when the water’s a bit warmer.”

Quinn’s cries have quieted down to soft whimpers now, her little body still pressed tightly against Harry’s. You watch as he presses a gentle kiss to her temple, murmuring sweet nothings to her as he continues to sway back and forth.

The sight of them together, Quinn’s tiny form held securely in Harry’s arms, fills you with an overwhelming sense of love and protectiveness.

“Do you want to head back to the blanket?” you suggest softly, your eyes full of understanding as you look at Harry. “Maybe she needs a little break.”

He nods, his expression tender as he meets your gaze. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

The three of you slowly make your way back up the beach, the sound of the waves receding as you step onto the warm sand. Harry holds Quinn close the entire way, his thumb gently stroking the back of her head as her cries finally start to fade into soft sniffles.

When you reach the blanket, Harry carefully sits down with Quinn still in his arms, cradling her as if she’s the most precious thing in the world. You kneel beside them, reaching out to gently brush a stray curl away from Quinn’s damp cheek.

“She’s okay,” you say softly, more for Harry’s reassurance than anything.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and love. “I just want to make sure she’s happy, you know?”

You smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “She is. She’s got you, after all.”

Quinn stirs slightly in his arms, her big, tear-filled eyes peeking up at you both. Harry gives her a gentle smile, his voice soft and soothing as he says, “See? Mama’s right here, and Daddy’s not going anywhere. We’re safe and sound.”

Quinn lets out a tiny, contented sigh, her little fingers still clutching Harry’s shirt as she finally starts to relax. You reach out to gently pat her back, your heart swelling with love for your little family.

Together, the three of you sit there on the beach, the sun beginning to set in the distance, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. In this moment, despite the tears and the unexpected hiccups, everything feels exactly as it should be.

Soaking up the sun, surrounded by the people you love.

There’s no place you’d rather be.

[dorcas4meadowes]

Strawberry Kisses - Luke

Castellan

Pairing: Luke Castellan × Reader

Summary: with a majority of the summer campers away, you and Luke indulged in the quiet through strawberry picking and a picnic date

Warnings: bodies of water, kisses

W/c: 1.5k (I think)

»»———-　　———-««

Sunlight hit Luke's features ever so sweetly, casting a golden halo over his tousled curls. He led you through the paths which were weaved between bushes allowing your fingers to grasp every plump fruit that caught your gaze.

You granted yourself the luxury of becoming distracted admiring the pleasures of the harvest season. You lingered amongst the scent of ripened strawberries and the feeling of dewy warmth, your arms swaying alongside your wicker basket which accommodated very few berries, eating more than you stowed away.

As you gathered the luscious fruits time seemed to slow, savouring the simple moments.

"They’re almost as sweet as you," Luke mused, holding a fruit up to the sunlight before placing it into the basket.

"Any time I believe you couldn't become any more sap you manage to outdo yourself Castellan."

He favoured the way your voice lulled his last name - it was said by many - but your lips managed to make the word seem untouchable. He placed a peck on your cheek before leaning down to twist a berry from a bush, before you too began to discover them hidden behind the copious greenery and flourishing flowers.

Once your container brimmed with red you dispersed from the fields with a smile, taking a detour to your cabin to pick up a larger hamper - filled with sweet delights - and made your way towards a secluded meadow dappled in indirect sunlight.

The perfect sanctuary for a picnic.

You stepped your feet onto the lush grass and escorted Luke towards the lake and laid your chequered blanket beneath the shade of an oak tree, the branches forming a natural shade.

You stretched yourself on the spread, enveloping yourself into the soft murmur of nature and letting tranquillity tug you into a tender embrace.

"Two days." Luke mumbled, noting you of the impending summer break.

"Mm, don't remind me" You said, reaching your fingers to rest in his curls and pull him closer to plant a sweet his on his lips. You left his warmth for a few moments before immediately being tugged back in. "Got something on your mind?" You asked.

"A few things…"

His fingers trailed along your back as if it were a path, your spine a road for his hands which led him to the crease of your knee. He lifted your leg over his own, inviting you to a seat - which you comfortably took - resting your weight against him. His hands slithered to rest in the dip of your curves, taking advantage of his position to brush warm kisses against your jaw and open shoulders. You moved a little to get an "adequate chair", but your actions were evident of what you were attempting, the kisses becoming unsteady and shaky. Your heart began to race in contrast to your slowing thoughts, being consumed in the intensity of your blended emotions.

Then they stopped all together, his head turned from you to find the startled gaze of your close friends – Clarisse and Chris – supposedly on their own adventure.

"Fuck" you mumbled, awkwardly waving to them after tumbling from your boyfriend's lap.

"Why are you waving?" Luke asked

"Maybe they'll go away."

"Piss off Rodriguez!" he yelled across the hill, his sibling swiftly putting his thumbs up before dragging Clarisse away who raised an eyebrow at your commotion.

"Why were they this far away from camp?" you questioned.

"Probably looking for a place to shag." He said bluntly.

After the encounter, you remained "civil" attempting to not scar any more of your companions. You spoke about your plans for when the summer residents would flood back to the camp and the duties you would start. Though, to be bold, Luke couldn't be more uninterested in the stress of a few days, so he pulled his shirt over his head, causing your lips to close and form a smile.

"A swim, while we still can?" He asked, allowing his fingers to snake to your shoulder to slip the strap from your dress. When the support fell, his eyes shamelessly glanced at the bikini which adorned your top, your chest pooling out of the small fabric.

Despite not being the first time he saw you undressed, a flush spread across his cheeks, a similar to the shade of the berries that you picked earlier.

"Swimming's still on, right?" You questioned trying to remain nonchalant, your hand lifting his chin, so his eyes met yours.

"Yeah, yeah," he reconfirmed, his words breathy and diverted.

You slid off your dress and stood, reaching out for his hand to drag him towards the cool tide, your feet stinging from the warmth of the sand which met the shore. Confidence began to seep into your posture as Luke seemed more flustered than he was letting on.

His mind was still preoccupied, so you kicked water at him, creating a war against the sea and the bodies that stood amongst it. You both lingered in the tide and hit one another with gushes of cool until you were fully submerged, gasping for air as your heads rose from the depth of the water.

You turned toward Luke and accepted his outstretched hand which curled around your waist and wrapped under your leg to fold your thighs around his torso. Your chin fell against his shoulder, your arms relaxed around his neck, simply being close to one another.

"Only if we weren't in public…" He muttered, swaying you a little in the water. You weren't in the direct vision of the camp, but this spot was common for wandering satyr's - and Clarisse and Chris - so you kept somewhat disciplined.

"Oh, do tell." You craved as he nipped at the skin below your ear, your legs tightening against him as he whispered sweet - dirty - nothings to you. The familiar all-consuming tension from earlier returned as easily as it left.

He slipped a finger under your jaw to force your eyes to his and you didn't waste time in pressing your lips together. It started gentle - just a press - , but Luke reassured you of how soft his heart truly was for you.

You revelled in the knowledge that only you got to see him like this, so relaxed and pure. Heat took hold and became contagious to Luke, the passion and intensity the two of you shared having no place for the public eye. It’s kept stowed away in the innocent gestures of light, playful touches or holding hands, now it’s revealed itself for what it is.

Inescapable.

No matter how many times the two of you kissed, each time felt different. Each kiss filled with depths of your emotions, that only spilled over when you couldn’t physically contain the heat any longer. He indulged once more before placing a quick kiss to your cheek, dismissing your prying hands and throwing you into the surf and swimming away, leaving you chasing after him.

You stayed in the ocean - quick pecks and swims - until you both grew exhausted and took rest on your blanket, leaving your bodies uncovered for the sun to kiss.

You lay tired and gazed up at the endless sky and let Luke busy himself amongst the flora, slipping many small flowers he had collected into the curvatures of your hair, sliding them into your braids.

And in moments like these you could appreciate what the fates had woven into your future - despite their dreadful manners - beauty could be found amongst the threads and fabrics, the boy beside you covering your life's canvas with an outbreak of stain age.

——————————

If you want to be added to a tag list for Luke fics just comment (requests are open as always)

<33

Master list

[hunkpossession0]

Saw these two hunks chilling on our mountain trip, and me and my friend were eager to steal their bodies. The plan was simple: wait until they were alone, use the enchanted stones we found last summer, and swap our souls with theirs. I ended up in the body of the long-haired one, and my friend took over the other.

Feeling the weight of his muscles, the power in his limbs, was exhilarating. My long hair swayed in the breeze, and I couldn't help but admire my reflection in the nearby stream. My friend was having a similar moment, flexing and laughing with newfound joy.

"Guess we should head back to camp," I said, my voice now deep and rich. We walked back, exploring the sensations, the way our new bodies moved. Every step felt different, more grounded, more alive.

As night fell, we set up a small fire. The flames cast shadows that danced across our chiseled features. My friend, in his new body, couldn't stop touching his biceps, marveling at the strength.

"Let's see what else these bodies can do," he suggested, a mischievous glint in his eyes. I felt a rush of excitement, a thrill at the possibilities.

We moved closer, exploring each other's new forms. His hands ran down my back, tracing the contours of muscle. I reciprocated, feeling the hard planes of his chest, the tautness of his abs.

"I've never felt anything like this," I whispered, leaning in. Our bodies were drawn to each other, an irresistible force pulling us together.

We spent the night discovering every inch, every sensation heightened by the unfamiliarity of our new forms. It was as if we were learning to be human all over again, but this time, with a layer of intense attraction we hadn't anticipated.

By morning, we lay exhausted but satisfied, tangled in each other's arms. The mountain air felt different, clearer, as if we had become a part of it. The hunks' bodies were ours now, and with them, a new understanding of who we could be.

"I guess we're stuck like this," my friend said, a hint of amusement in his voice. I looked at him, feeling a deep connection, something that went beyond just the physical.

"Yeah," I replied, smiling. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Body 1: The Long-Haired Hunk (Me)

Standing tall at 6'3", this body exudes an effortless blend of strength and grace. The long, flowing hair cascades down to broad shoulders, catching the light with a hint of natural wave. His piercing blue eyes are framed by strong, angular features—a chiseled jawline and high cheekbones that give him a rugged yet refined look.

His muscular build is evident with every movement. Defined pecs, sculpted abs, and powerful arms showcase years of dedication to fitness. His skin is sun-kissed, hinting at a life spent outdoors, and there's a confident swagger in his stride. Tattoos snake along his right arm, adding an edge to his otherwise classic good looks. This body is a perfect blend of warrior and model, turning heads effortlessly.

Body 2: The Short-Haired Hunk (My Friend)

Even more imposing, this body stands at 6'5" with a massively muscular build that demands attention. His short, dark hair is stylishly tousled, revealing a pair of intense, hazel eyes that seem to see right through you. His face is equally handsome, with a strong nose and a slightly cleft chin giving him a distinguished air.

His physique is the epitome of power, with thick, bulging biceps, a broad, barrel-like chest, and legs like tree trunks. Every muscle is defined and exaggerated, creating a look that borders on the heroic. His skin is a warm olive tone, suggesting a heritage of sun-soaked climates, and he carries himself with a natural, easy confidence.

A few faint scars on his knuckles and forearms hint at an adventurous past, adding an element of intrigue. This body radiates a dynamic energy, as if always ready for the next challenge, and his infectious smile suggests he's more than willing to take it on with you.

[60s-heartshaped-chevrolet]

SPECIFIC MOVIE RECOMMENDATIONS #2

🌸Dreamy Escapes: Enchanting Old Fairy Tale Adaptations🌸

Hello, dreamers! 🌷🧚‍♀️✨

When the golden days of summer arrive, there's nothing quite like immersing oneself in the ethereal charm of fairy tales. Here are some vintage gems that provide a delightful escape into worlds where dreams and reality intertwine, capturing the essence of summer's enchanting spirit. 🍄🌿✨

🏰 Deváté Srdce (The Ninth Heart) (1978) Directed by Juraj Herz, this Czechoslovakian fairy tale follows Martin on a quest to save a princess from a dark sorcerer. With its gothic atmosphere and enchanting visuals, The Ninth Heart is a spellbinding mix of adventure and romance. 🌹✨

2. 🐉 Peau d'Âne (Donkey Skin) (1970) It's a whimsical adaptation of Charles Perrault’s fairy tale with surreal visuals, vibrant costumes, and a touch of musical magic. This film is a visual feast that perfectly captures the ethereal spirit of fairy tales. 👑✨

3. ˖🐚🫧 Rusalochka (The Little Mermaid) (1976) This Soviet adaptation of Hans Christian Andersen’s beloved tale brings a haunting beauty to the classic story. It captures the melancholy and magic of the mermaid’s world. This film is a must-watch for fairy tale enthusiasts. 🧜‍♀️✨

4. 🦄Jak se budí princezny (How to Wake a Princess) (1978) is a charming Czechoslovakian film directed by Václav Vorlíček. It's a delightful retelling of the Sleeping Beauty tale, following a prince's quest to awaken a princess from a magical slumber. The film features enchanting storyline and picturesque settings, blending romance, adventure, and classic fairy tale magic beautifully. 🪄💫

5.🎭 Tři oříšky pro Popelku (Three Wishes for Cinderella) (1973) Another Czechoslovakian film (I love them) features Cinderella, played by Libuše Šafránková, who uses three magical hazelnuts to change her destiny. The film’s enchanting scenery and heartwarming narrative create a perfect escape into a magical winter wonderland. ❄️🔮

6.🦋 The Singing Ringing Tree (1957) This surreal and visually captivating story follows a prince on a quest to win the love of a princess, with the help of a magical tree. Its fantastical sets and dreamlike quality make it an enchanting watch. 🍃📜

Light some candles, pour yourself a refreshing summer drink, and let these vintage fairy tales whisk you away to magical realms.

Send you love and stardust (another list soon)🎀🪞🩰🦢🕯️

[sovaharbor]

IT ONLY TOOK FOUR OR FIVE ATTEMPTS BUT HOLY SHIT WE HAVE A FUCKING [BASIC, NOT AT ALL FINISHED] BLOCKED-OUT JACKET!!!!!!!!

[pickingupmymercedes]

Not just a pretty face - Lewis Hamilton

Sequence: Not just a pretty face / I need you to let me go / Fly on my own / Leap of faith (bonus)

request: Special request for Lewis being free practice dating around as a Capricorn sun, meeting with a Leo sun a fan of his but ends up clingy to her presences in his life but she just friendzoned him due to his commitment issues.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: kind of a slowburn

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Leo Sun girly coming right up.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

The winter of 2024 was proving to be colder than usual in Europe, but the lack of heat was certainly not reflected in the blaze set off by the news that Lewis Hamilton would be driving for Ferrari in 2025. The rumors had been swirling for days, but seeing it confirmed had sent shockwaves through the motorsport world. Lewis had always been a Mercedes man, the Silver Arrows an extension of his very being. But now, a scarlet future awaited him.

And amidst all that he found himself in the opulent driveway of an estate that screamed old money, the kind that bought influence as easily as it bought rare vintage cars. He glanced around, appreciating the perfectly manicured lawns in the hot Californian winter, the sprawling mansion, and most importantly, the gleaming 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO California parked under the portico. The car was a masterpiece, a relic of a bygone era, but he wasn’t there for the car; he was there for Y/n.

Y/n was a whirlwind wrapped in couture, with a knowing smile and a glint in her eye that could either promise trouble or adventure, depending on her mood. She strolled out of the house, her walk as smooth as the car’s curves. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she approached him, wearing a dress that flirted with the summer breeze.

“Lewis Hamilton, as I live and breathe” she teased, her voice a melodic blend of sophistication and sass. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

Lewis grinned, slipping on his sunglasses. “And miss a chance to see you? Never.”

She laughed, a sound as intoxicating as champagne. “Flatterer. But I’m not the main attraction today.” She gestured towards the Ferrari, and he followed her gaze.

“Your dad’s 250 GTO,” he said appreciatively. “It’s a beauty.”

“Of course it is,” she replied, walking over to the car and running a hand along its sleek body. “And today, it’s all mine. Well, ours.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You’re letting me drive it?”

She laughed again, this time with a touch of condescension. “Oh, Lewis, sweetheart. No one drives my family’s babies except me. But you can ride shotgun.”

He mocked shock. “You know, I do have a bit of experience behind the wheel.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “And I have experience keeping these classics in one piece. Trust me, you’ll enjoy this more from the passenger seat.”

With a shrug and a smile, he acquiesced, walking over to the passenger side as she slid into the driver’s seat. The leather was cool and supple against his back, the interior a time capsule of luxury and craftsmanship.

As she started the engine, the car roared to life, a throaty purr that screamed Ferrari. She shifted into gear with practiced ease, and they were off, the car gliding smoothly onto the winding roads that led away from her family estate.

“You seem to know your way around this car” he commented, watching her handle the vintage machine with confidence and skill.

“Of course I do” she shot back. “I’m not just a pretty face, you know. My dad made sure I knew how to handle every car in his collection. And this one,” she patted the steering wheel affectionately, “just so happens to be my favorite.”

Lewis watched her, impressed. He had always known Y/n was different, not content to just sit on the sidelines. She was a force of nature, and he admired that about her. “I have to say, I’m impressed. Not many people can handle a car like this.”

She flashed him a smile, her eyes twinkling. “I’m full of surprises, Lewis. You should know that by now.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “Oh, I know. It’s one of the things I like about you.”

“Just one?” she quipped, throwing him a sidelong glance.

“Among many” he admitted. “You know, I’ve always been serious about us.”

Her expression softened for a moment, but she quickly masked it with her usual bravado. “I know. But you’re a f1 driver, Lewis.”

He nodded, understanding. “I get it. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are” she agreed. “And I have to say, you’ve impressed my dad. He wouldn’t let just anyone near his prized possessions. The fact that he allowed me to take you for a ride in this car means you’ve earned a soft spot in his heart.”

“Did I?” Lewis asked, genuinely surprised. “I was sure he hated me.”

She laughed; a musical sound that made his heart skip a beat. “He doesn’t hate you. He’s just… protective. But he sees something in you, something he likes. Maybe it’s your determination, or your passion. Or maybe he just thinks you’d actually be good enough for me.”

Lewis eyed her with a hint of curiosity “And what do you think?”

She was silent for a moment, her eyes focused on the road ahead. Then she glanced at him, her gaze intense. “I think you might be worth the risk.”

He reached over, taking her right hand in his. “I’ve told before, but I’ll gladly say it a hundred more. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me to leave.”

She smiled, a sad but warm smile that almost lit up her face. “Sure, Lewis.”

As they drove through the countryside, the sun starting to settle behind them, casting a golden glow over everything. Y/n handled the tight corners and straightaways with a finesse that spoke volumes about her driving skills. Lewis couldn’t help but be impressed. He knew how difficult it was to master a car like this, especially one with so much history.

“So, what’s next for you?” Y/n asked, breaking the comfortable silence. “Apart from the big move to Ferrari, of course.”

Lewis sighed, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “I don’t know, honestly. It’s a big change, leaving Mercedes. They’ve been like family to me. But Ferrari… it’s a dream, you know? Every driver wants to wear red at least once.”

She nodded, her eyes flicking towards him briefly. “It’s a huge opportunity. And you’ll be amazing, no doubt about it.”

“Thanks,” he said, appreciating her confidence in him. “What about you? What’s next for Y/n?”

She shrugged, a playful smile on her lips. “Oh, you know. The usual. Jet-setting, managing the family business, keeping an eye on our car collection.”

He laughed. “Must be a tough life.”

“It has its moments” she admitted with a small chuckle.

They drove on in companionable silence for a while, the scenery flashing by in a blur of greens and golds. The sun was dipping lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the road.

“Do you ever think about settling down?” Lewis asked suddenly, his voice thoughtful.

She glanced at him; one eyebrow raised. “Are you proposing, Mr. Hamilton?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Not yet. But I’m serious. You and me… do you think we could make it work?”

She was silent for a long moment, her eyes focused on the road ahead. Then she sighed, a wistful smile on her lips. “I don’t know. You’re always on the move, always chasing the next big thing. And I’m not sure I want to keep up.”

“I’d slow down for you” he said softly.

She shook her head. “And that’s exactly what I don’t want. I don’t want you to change for me. I want you to be you, the Lewis who’s always pushing the limits, always striving for more.”

“And what about you?” he asked. “What do you want?”

She smiled, a sad sort of smile. “I want someone who can match me, who understands my world and fits into it. Someone who doesn’t just see me as an accessory, but as an equal.”

“You are my equal,” he said firmly. “In every way that matters.”

She glanced at him, her eyes softening. “Maybe. But it’s not that simple, is it?”

“No” he admitted. “It’s not. But we could figure it out. Together.”

She was silent for a long moment, her eyes thoughtful. Then she nodded slowly. “Maybe we could.”

The sun had almost set, the sky a riot of colors. It was a perfect moment, one neither wanted to end.

“Tell me something,” she said suddenly. “Why Ferrari? Why now?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s something I’ve always wanted. It’s the pinnacle. And after everything with Mercedes, I felt like it was time for a change. A new challenge.”

“And you think Ferrari will give you that?”

“I believe they can try” he said confidently. “And I’m ready for it.”

She nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face, the undertone to the question not lost on him. She wanted to know how he felt about jumping into the unknown for a promise.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for, Lewis. Really, I do.”

“That means a lot.” he said, his voice sincere.

As they pulled back into the driveway of her family estate, the car’s engine ticking as it cooled down, Lewis turned to her. “Thanks for the ride, Y/n. It’s always fun with you.”

She smiled, a genuine, warm smile that lit up her face. “Anytime.”

He leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. “I meant what I said. I’m not going anywhere.”

She nodded, her eyes softening. “I know. And maybe… maybe that’s enough.”

As he got out of the car, he glanced back at her, his favorite firecracker, the one woman who had him hooked for years now. The one who had him chasing her around the globe just to wish on shooting starts. The one he had never had.

As he walked away to his car, he heard her call out to him.

“Lewis!”

He turned, a smile on his lips. “Yeah?”

“Don’t be a stranger” she said, her voice soft but strong.

He nodded, his heart swelling with emotion. “Never.”

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[b2cute]

| Seven Years

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, pet names

a/n’s : hey guys! i know i’ve been inactive on here with writing i was just finding motivation and also had a lot of stuff happen in the past couple months. this is a short blurb but i hope you enjoy!

reminders: REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

A gentle summer breeze ruffled the pages of Y/n’s book as she sat on the park bench, her head resting on Chris’s shoulder. They had known each other since high school, their friendship only growing into a relationship over the years. Chris absentmindedly traced patterns on her arm with his thumb, his heart swelling with affection every time she scrunched her nose at a page. The world around them seemed to blur, their shared moments creating a little bubble of happiness. In that serene corner of the park, surrounded by the scent of blooming flowers and the sound of birds singing, they felt perfectly content, wrapped up in each other's warmth.

“Chris?” Y/n’s head chirped up from the brunette’s shoulder. She closed her book and placed it to the side. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the park, "where do you see us in seven years?"

Chris looked down at the girl, eyes glistening as he grinned. "Seven years, huh? I imagine us still making YouTube content, but maybe on a bigger scale. We could have our studio by then, with you as our director, making sure everything runs smoothly."

Y/n couldn’t help but let out a laugh, her eyes twinkling. "So, I'll be your helper forever, huh?” "Not just a helper, ma," Chris said, shaking his head as he pulled Y/n around his arm. "You'll be the brains behind it all. The one who keeps us organized and makes sure our bickering doesn’t get in the way. Y’know I need you baby.”

Y/n blushed, feeling blood rush to her cheeks. "That sounds like a plan. And what about us, outside of YouTube?" the girl questioned, her head looking up at her boyfriend. Chris’s eyes softened, his voice tender. “I see us traveling the world together, capturing our adventures and sharing them with everyone… maybe we could even have an album book with endless pictures of us exploring new places and trying new things.”

Y/n’a heart swelled with excitement. "That sounds amazing. And what about... you know, us personally?"

Chris smiled, leaning in closer. "I see us growing together, maybe even talking about starting a family someday. Having twins we can dress up in cute clothes. Taking them out on dates to Disneyland. But no matter what, we'll always be a team."

Y/n’s eyes sparkled with tears of happiness. "I love that idea. As long as we're together, I don't care where we are." she said, returning her head on the boy’s shoulder. Chris leaned down to plant a kiss on her forehead, his voice a soft whisper. "Me neither, ma, as long as it's with you.”

They sat there, wrapped in each other's embrace, dreaming of the beautiful days to come, their hearts intertwined in a perfect blend of love and ambition.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

masterlist

taglist:

@mqttittude @luverboychris @knowingnothingnoel @whicked-hazlatwhore @mattsdinosweater @n00dl3zzz @sophssturn @sstvrnioloo@sturnioloenthusiast @lolasturniolo @mattsleftnipple03 @gracealwaysdisgrace @guccifrog @hearts4chriss @sttzee @stunza @fawned01 @sillysillygyal @skyslondon @stu2719962 @domaniquessidehoe @junnniiieee07

[many-shades-of-violence]

fireworks

✢ pairing: Trafalgar D. Law x Reader

✢ characters: Trafalgar D. Law, Shachi, Penguin, Ikkaku , Bepo, Jean Bart

✢ word count: 4.500

✢ genre: romance, slice-off life, nsfw

✢ contents: NSFW, kimono-sex, switch-dynamics, body-worship, tattoos, mention of infertility due to amber-lead poisoning

The vibrant streets of the Flower Capital burst forth with a kaleidoscope of colors, an intricate tapestry woven from the threads of life, sound, and movement. As you meandered through the bustling streets, a symphony of scents enveloped you – the intoxicating perfume of exotic spices mingling with the vivacious banter of vendors. It was a sensory masterpiece, a feast for the senses that you savored as you immersed yourself in the rich fabric of the country's capital.

It had been a mere few days since your arrival in Wano Kuni alongside the rest of the Heart Pirates, united in your mission to challenge the reign of Kaido in alliance with the Straw Hats. The details of Law's intricate plan had initially left you uncertain, the memory of his harrowing experiences in Dressrosa still sending shivers down your spine to this day. The lingering scar on his left arm, was a testament to the battles he had fought and the risks he had taken, knowing that it could have been his last.

However, amidst the colorful chaos that was Wano Kuni, your crew thrived more than ever. Especially Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin embraced the country´s vibrant culture with an infectious enthusiasm, but even the more reserved members, like Jean Bart and Ikkaku, had found themselves swept up in the festivities. And as much as you longed to fully immerse yourself in the island's otherworldly charm, the shadow of the Straw Hat Pirates and their unpredictable influence constantly loomed over your enjoyment.

This evening, however, you had finally temporarily relinquished your role as a spy. A customer's passing mention of the upcoming fireworks had piqued your curiosity, and with a sense of adventure, you decided to seize the opportunity, since they weren´t a thing in your hometown. Dressed in a borrowed summer kimono, its lightweight cotton fabric adorned with a subtle plum pattern, you ventured into the festivities, silently hoping to catch a glimpse of your crew amidst the crowd.

As the sun dipped lower, casting a warm golden glow over Wano's bustling streets, the atmosphere crackled with anticipation. The town had transformed into a vibrant tableau of color and light, adorned with fluttering banners and lanterns that painted a vivid contrast against the deepening dusk. The tantalizing aroma of street food wafted through the air, a call that beckoned your senses.

Stalls had sprung up, each offering an enticing array of culinary delights – skewers of yakitori sizzling on open grills, mounds of freshly rolled sushi that seemed almost too beautiful to eat, and steaming bowls of fragrant ramen that whispered promises of comfort. Amidst the culinary treasures, you thought you caught a glimpse of Sanji, the Straw Hat Cook, bustling at one of the stalls. Yet your attention was quickly diverted by a striking and familiar figure – no other than your captain, Trafalgar Law.

Law stood by the sidewalk, his gaze fixed on a group of children engrossed in a lively goldfish-catching game. His appearance was a curious sight, dressed in a black kimono with a red haori, the vivid reds and gold accents creating a captivating contrast against the traditional backdrop. A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you noted that despite his best efforts to blend in, Law couldn't part with his signature hat.

With a stealthy approach, you reached his side, your touch light as you tapped his shoulder to announce your presence. His attention shifted, and the sight of you in the borrowed kimono seemed to elicit a reaction – a slow, lazy half-smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. His voice was laced with amusement as he spoke, his words playfully teasing. "And who do I have the pleasure with?"

Caught off guard by his question, a flush crept up your cheeks, quickly stifled by a cough as you composed yourself. "Don´t tease me and speak for yourselves, captain." you replied.

Law's grin stiffled as he gripped the black fabric of his kimono between two fingers, apparently a bit self-concious. “Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo set me up on this. Had a whole ass speech about “embracing Wano culture” and what not.”

Your gaze traveled over Law's kimono-clad form, the sight of him in the traditional attire an unexpected yet fitting sight, trying your best to not oggle his tattoo lingered chest too much. "Well good for them, they´ve finally developed something a kin to taste. Looks good on you, especially with Kikoku" you said, pointing to the long sword leaning on his right shoulder. You couldn´t help but muster a chuckle as your captain blushed faintly at his ears, his slight discomfort at your back-handed compliment endearing in its own way.

You patted his shoulder playfully before steering the conversation to a more neutral topic. "So, what brings you here?" Law's gaze returned to the lively crowd, his tone thoughtful as he responded. "I'm actually keeping an eye out for another Supernova.” Surprised by his mention of the Supernovas, your curiosity piqued. "Do you need assistance?" you offered, ready to lend a hand if needed.

Law waved off your offer with a casual gesture. "Nah, with how crowded it´s getting, I think my plan went down the drain anyway. And the last thing I want is to cause a commotion." Your thoughts briefly drifted to the Straw Hat Pirates, the very embodiment of chaos and commotion, before returning to Law's presence. "Guess so." you quipped.

Law's attention shifted to you, an interested glint in his eyes. "And what about you?"

"Well, as you can see the tea house owner practically insisted, I take the evening off and put me into this thing here. The lady’s been obsessed with dolling me up since she saw me in my boiler suit.”

You sighed raising the hem of your kimono.

Law's lips curved into a small smile. "I can see why.” Surprised at his flirtatious retort you looked up to your captain, who looked briefly at you, before returning his gaze back to the crowds.

“Aw, that´s sweet of you, captain." You retorted giving him a faint slap on his shoulder. He seemed to stiffen up at that, making you retreat your hand and quickly changing topics so things wouldn´t get too awkward. “Anyhow, I was just on the way to look around the festival stalls. Wanna join?” You offered politely, not thinking he would partake your offer. To your surprise he answered very quickly, letting himself be guided by you deeper into the festivities. “Lead the way.”

Amidst the lively streets of the Flower Capital, you and Law continued to explore, the festival together. As you walked side by side, the captain's reserved demeanor seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of ease. The elusive surgeon of death had momentarily laid down his mantle, revealing a side of him that only a few including his crew were privileged to see.

Time seemed to blur as you lost yourselves in the vibrant spectacle around you. The lanterns cast a warm, inviting glow, while the distant strains of traditional music filled the air. Your conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on everything from local customs to the challenges you had each faced on your respective missions.

As the night deepened, the festival's vibrant energy seemed to surge, an electric current that pulsed through the heart of the Flower Capital. The lanterns lining the streets emitted a soft, golden glow, weaving an enchanting spell that enveloped the surroundings. After enjoying a mesmerizing traditional dance performance and marveling at the dexterity of street performers, you indulged in the sweet delight of a candied apple. It was in the midst of this delightful moment that your attention was drawn to a spectacle that transcended the ordinary – people launching paper lanterns into the night sky.

"Look over there, Captain!" you exclaimed, directing Law's gaze toward the ascending lanterns, a scene that painted the backdrop of the moonlit landscape. Just as he was about to utter a question, a playful smile curved his lips. Your curiosity was piqued, your eyebrow quirking in response. "What?"

With a gentle gesture, Law used your own finger to point at his cheek, the mischievous smile refusing to fade. "Got a bit of caramel there."

You felt a blush warm your cheeks as you instinctively lifted the hem of your kimono to rectify the sugary mishap. However, a practical hesitation stilled your hand in mid-air. The tea house would surely reprimand any stain on their attire. Almost as if sensing your dilemma, Law stepped in with characteristic grace for a doctor like him. "Here, let me do it."

You nodded, a tad taken aback by his swift assistance. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he wiped away the caramel with his finger, leaving a tingling warmth in its wake. Though you flinched slightly from the unexpected contact, Law seemed unperturbed, his focus solely on the task at hand, like the pro he was. The proximity allowed you to catch a faint, intriguing blend of his distinctive scent, a musky and herbal aroma that stirred a comforting familiarity. You nearly cringed when you felt how giddy it made you feel. A feeling that definitely transcended the boundaries of your roles as captain and crewmate.

"There, all done," Law murmured, his voice a soothing undertone that seemed to reverberate through the air. As he was just on the way to restore the distance between you, your gazes met for a fleeting second, a silent exchange where his unwavering yellow gaze met your own. With your best effort your tried to control your urges to look at his strong features, including his full lustrous lips. Just when you failed miserably, your eyes hungrily flashing down, a sudden burst of sound forced your attention skyward, ignorant of his gaze definitely not missing your reaction.

The night erupted into a dazzling spectacle of color and light, fireworks painting the heavens with vivid strokes of red, blue, and gold. The crowd around you gasped and cheered in unison, their collective awe echoing through the air as they started looking for a better spot to view the firework.

Caught in the radiant shower of lights, you felt a sense of enchantment take hold, not able to move a tad, for this was your first time experiencing a firework. The colors reflected in your eyes, mirroring the effervescent spirit of the festival itself. Beside you, Law's gaze wasn´t drawn skyward however, his usually impassive demeanor softened by the sheer wonder of the display on your face, alight by the kindling flames in the sky.

"Say, y/n-ya, is this your first firework?" Law's voice broke through your reverie, drawing your attention momentarily as you nodded, still entranced by the display at hand. He smiled faintly, before grabbing you carefully around your shoulder, to port you away from the masses,

“Room!”

You let out a surprised noise, as Law´s Room switched you out with a few stones of the close-by riverbed you were standing in front of now. You usually wouldn´t have missed the lingering hesitation of your captain, a fraction of a moment too long, before he withdrew his arm, but you were way to mesmerized with the many fireworks ablaze in the night sky.

"You know, Captain, you´re very kind." you remarked, your words carried on the wind, still entranced by the luminous spectacle. A quick, soft reply escaped his lips, laced with an unspoken gratitude. "Don't mention it." His words were followed by a muttered addendum, revealing a hint of vulnerability. "Besides, I wouldn't do this for just anyone." Your laughter bubbled forth, a grin painting your features as Law's cheeks tinged a deeper shade of pink in response. Leaning slightly against him, your shoulders brushed.

"And here I thought our captain was always this chivalrous" you joked, catching Law off-guard, his embarrassment evident. Chuckling softly, you reassured him, your attention drifting back to the night sky. "I'm only teasing. I really don´t mind. Truth be told, I'm thoroughly enjoying this. My only regret is that it's passing by so quickly." With a contemplative look, you glanced downward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, the gentle night breeze weaving through your locks.

Your heart soared triumphantly as Law's resonant baritone voice echoed your unspoken desire, his words falling like a melody upon your ears. “It doesn´t have to, y/n-ya.” As you looked back up to him, you met his serene gaze, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Are you sure, captain?”  

He sighed defeated, before crossing the last of distance between you two, cupping your cheecks with his hands. “Here, let me show you.” Carefully he planted his lips on yours. You were quick to answer his call, hands rested atop his haori, you met his lips in a slow rhythm, while the display of fireworks reached its climax.

Up close to your captain, you could once again smell his cologne, blending beautifully with the warmth rising between the two of you. You felt Law's hands slowly starting to explore your body, tracing its contours with his fingertips, sending shivers down your spine.

Breaking your kiss only to catch a breath, Law whispered softly to you, "Perhaps we should continue this elsewhere." You agreed with a mischievous raise of your eyebrows. "Polar Tang?" Law gave you a horrified expression, already envisioning the worst-case scenario of Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo stumbling upon the two of you mid-coitus. "Are you out of your mind?!" You playfully stuck your tongue out at him. "Just kidding. Let's go to my place at the tea shop."

"Are you sure? We wouldn't want to compromise your cover," Law raised an eyebrow. "There's always outside..." "The tea shop it is."

You gestured for Law to approach the bedding, your back turned to his tall frame. "Would you mind assisting me with this?" you asked, referring to the complex Wano clothing that was proving difficult to remove without some help. "As much as Wano's attire is beautiful, it’s a pain in the ass to get out of without an extra hand. Really nothing compared to our boiler suits.”

Law couldn't help but smirk at your remark. He swiftly discarded his haori, hat and sword, his skilled hands moving to unfasten the sash's ribbon. "Think you got me convinced" he quipped, a playful tone in his voice. "Feels like unwrapping a present." You gave Law a look over shoulder, watching as he expertly unraveled the intricate bindings of the kimono. With his task completed, the fabric now hung loosely around your shoulders, its long hem cascading. Law met your gaze and shared a tender kiss, his scrawny goatee tingling your chin, before gently sliding the fabric down your shoulder.

Softly peppering kisses along your shoulder blade, his slender tattooed fingers pulling the cotton fabric away from your body with a tantalizing slowness. You turned to face him, clad only in your underwear, playfully nibbling on your lower lip as a silent request for entrance to his mouth. He willingly granted you permission, his submission deepening as your hands slid into the opening of his kimono, trailing along his chest. The loose white sash around his waist unraveled in a single swift motion, unveiling your captain's tanned skin adorned with intricate tattoos. As you traced your fingertips over the dark lines, a shiver of anticipation coursed through Law's body, a reaction he couldn't suppress.

Taking advantage of the moment, you slipped your tongue into his mouth, engaging in a languid and passionate dance. Your lead was embraced wholeheartedly by Law as your tongues intertwined. It was surprising to witness how effortlessly Law, the famed Surgeon of Death and former Samurai of the Sea, surrendered to the sensations, heightening your attraction to him even more.

Straddling your raven-haired captain, his partially undone kimono cascading around his slender, muscular physique, exposing his nearly bare form, you momentarily parted from the kiss. Your lips and tongue embarked on a tantalizing exploration of his body, leaving a trail of fervent kisses in their wake. Starting from his neck, your journey traced a path down toward his nipples, lavishing each one with devoted attention, coaxing them into hardness. The sensations prompted a groan to escape Law's lips, his fingers clutching the bedding beneath him as he fought to muffle the rising tide of moans. Simultaneously, one hand sought refuge above his mouth to stifle his own sounds of pleasure. Your keen perception didn't overlook the telltale twitch of his cock between his legs, a testament to the effect your actions were having on him. "God damn, y/n-ya, slow down, will ya? I'm not gonna dissolve into thin air anytime soon." You looked up at him with a teasing grin, saluting him with a wink. "Ay, ay, captain."

And call me Law, will ya? It makes me feel weird hearing it in a setting like this," you chuckled, giving him a peck on the lips. "Alright, alright. Though, I can always call you 'Doctor' if you're more into that?" You grinned when he averted your gaze, clearly embarrassed by your dirty talk. “M-Maybe another time.” He stifled, his hands searching again for more contact with your skin. “Cute. But if this shouldn´t be a one-time thing, you got some convincing to do.” you winked. On your call Law claimed your lips in a heated kiss, his hands ghosting over every curve of your body, pressing his hips against your own to create more friction between you. A moan escaped your lips, when he slid his hand around your back, releasing you of your bra and starting to knead the subtle flesh of one of your breasts with his calloused hand.

As you pressed yourselves harder onto Laws clothed cock, he let out another groan, his lips meeting you once more, before he finally wetted his long fingers with his mouth and dipped them inside your panties. A low stifle erupted his tattooed chest when he found the wet spot that formed there. “Guess I´m not the only one excited.” he proclaimed, wetting his lips in the process. As he entered you with two fingers, you cried out in pleasure. You had guessed it with Ikkaku one way to drunk evening, but now you finally had hand on prove that his fine motor skills definitely translated outside of the op.  

“Fuck, Law.” You cried out as he slowly scissored you open, his thumb dragging menacingly above your swollen clit. The feeling of being filled by his long fingers was ravishing, and the fact that they were tattooed, only turned you on more. Additionally, Law hungrily sucking at your tits like a starved man, didn´t help the whole ordeal.

You bitt your thumb, to suppress a loud cry from the pleasure that build with rapid speed in your core. When you had teased your captain, that he needed to do some convincing first, you wouldn´t have thought he took it so seriously, but maybe you had calculated his enchantment with you on a wrong scale from the beginning. With each calculated stroke from Law, the sensation inside you grew stronger until finally, you screamed out in ecstasy, your first release of the night crashing down on you. Dazed out from your orgasm, you were too late to realize Law cleaning your release from his fingers sloppily with his tongue.

“What are you doing?!” you cried out exhausted, trying to swipe his hand from his face. “Relax. Just savoring my treat. You´re as sweet as I´d imagined.” He grinned at you, flashing you his pearly white teeth. “You´re a nasty one Trafalgar. How long have you been imagining this anyway?” you mewled, discarding of your soaked panties before tending to his own confinement.

He gave you a shrug before pulling you in for another kiss, his tongue searching longingly for your own. You grimaced, tasting yourselves on his lips. “Honestly, y´a don´t wanna know.”

And honestly, it should´ve give you the ick to hear that from your supervisor and captain but at the same time, but at the moment you couldn´t think of anything hotter.

When you first joined the Heart Pirates, after Ikkaku had found you in cold blood nearly offing two burglars with a shorty after they tried to rob an elderly couple, her promises of a warm bed, delicious food, a bear as a navigator, and the captain being a bombshell weren't exaggerated at all. But with all professionalism, you wouldn't agree to that out in the open. Except maybe if you had one or two shots too many.

Back in the present, you smiled inwardly at the chance you took and everything it had led up to, this shared moment of intimacy with none other than your captain included.

As you released Law cocks out of his imprisonment you couldn´t help but tease his stiff rod with a quick swipe of your thumb, earning yourselves a deep groan from the man in question. The tan cock sprang free with much vigor, a bit of pre-cum having already assembled at the dark pink slit. Experimentally you gave him a few lazy strokes, before Law signaled you to hoist yourself above him, so he could enter you. You cocked an eyebrow, a bit surprised that a doctor like him didn´t seem to care much for protection. He seemed to know exactly what you were thinking about, as he gave your hip a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, I'm infertile," he said, looking at you with a casual expression, causing your eyes to widen in surprise at how nonchalantly he addressed the topic. "What? It's no big deal. Just a result of a hereditary disease."

You gulped, feeling a bit unsure of how to react to this fact, but then decided to drop the topic for now. After all, Law was the doctor and likely had more knowledge of his own insides than anyone would ever want – well, except for the Surgeon of Death himself, that is.Formularbeginn

Holding yourselves steady with your hand on his broad shoulders, you slowly sank yourselves down on his cock, a shiver running down your spine as you felt him protrude your wet insides. Groans escaped you both as sheeted himself inside you, the skin-on-skin contact making your core starting to coil once more.

When you had finally accommodated to Law´s grith you started to move, lazily dragging your hips up and down, fingers digging into his tan muscles. Your captain reacted with much enthusiasm, his grip on your hands not only steading you in your motion but giving him the needed point of gravity to meet your motions with his own hip thrusts. No sooner than later the room was filled with the rhythmical slapping of sweaty skin and a salve of both of your moans, relishing in each other’s ecstasy.

Just when you had sunken down once more on Laws length he suddenly snaked his hands firmly around you, locating you on your back and him atop of you, the last fabric of his black kimono falling down onto the ground, revealing the full glory of his tattooed body. You racked your nails over his back from the pleasure the newly found angle brought you, while Law pounded your weeping cunt. Spurred on, you hooked your legs around his hips nearly drilling the poor man to the hilt inside you.

“y/n-ya, don´t do that or….” Law groaned out stopping mid-sentence. “Or what?” you asked teasingly, giving one of his nipples a slow pull. “Fuck.” You had your answer, when you felt Law rot one last time against you, painting your insides with his cum as he emptied himself inside you. Feeling the sudden hot splashes of his seed inside you made you contract like crazy, milking him dry of his last drop.

As he slid out of you, he kissed you on the forehead, slowly draping your bedding over both of you and nestled himself into the comfy covers of your futon with you in his arms. As you came down from your own high you suddenly registered that despite his affirmation, Law had cum inside you.

“Say didn´t you-“ .” Law muffled in your hair, clearly tired from your escapade. “I said I´m infertile, not that I can´t cum y/n-ya. Read a book for once”.

"I think I'll pass," you retorted, rolling your eyes in a playful manner before snuggling into Law's embrace. He slowly ran his fingers through your hair as he asked in a low baritone voice, "Are you alright? Need anything?" You shook your head wearily, stifling a yawn with your hand. "Just a good night's sleep. Rest can wait till t´morrow."

"Same here," he replied, his grasp tightening around you.

Just before sleep embraced both of you, you whispered gently into his ear, "Oh, and by the way, you passed with flying colors." Instantly, a subtle smile adorned Law's usually impassive countenance as slumber claimed him. As you drifted off into a tranquil sleep, a final utterance lingered in your ears.

"Glad to hear that."

[aretis]

Summer in Italy 🇮🇹

Experience the ultimate Italian summer! From the heart of the Dolomite’s to the elegance of alpine retreats,Italy offers a blend of adventure,luxury and breathtaking landscapes.

Unwind in lush surroundings,savor gourmet delight’s,and explore the stunning natural beauty that makes Northern Italy a perfect summer escape 🇮🇹☀️

[htpssgavi]

A Catalonian Love Story

It was an unusually warm evening in Barcelona, the kind of evening that hinted at the summer's promise. The sun had just begun to set, casting a golden hue over the city's iconic architecture. Gavi, fresh from a victorious match at Camp Nou, decided to unwind by taking a walk through the narrow streets of El Born, his favorite part of the city.Y/n, a young woman from a small town, had moved to Barcelona to pursue her dream of becoming an artist. The city's vibrant culture and stunning landscapes had always inspired her, and tonight, she was capturing the sunset with her camera in the very same neighborhood.As she focused on the perfect shot, she heard a group of young men approaching, their laughter and banter filling the street. She looked up just as Gavi's eyes met hers. There was an instant connection, an unspoken understanding between them."Excuse me," Gavi said, stepping away from his friends, "Do you mind if I take a look at your photos? The sunset looks beautiful from here."Y/n, slightly taken aback but intrigued, handed him her camera. Gavi flipped through the pictures, genuinely impressed by her talent. "These are incredible. You have a real gift.""Thank you," she replied, blushing slightly. "I love capturing moments that tell a story."Gavi smiled. "I feel the same way about football. It's all about those moments that can change everything."They continued to talk, walking together through the labyrinthine streets of El Born. They discovered they had more in common than they initially thought. Both of them had left behind their small-town roots to chase their dreams in Barcelona. They shared stories of their struggles, their triumphs, and the sacrifices they had made.Over the following weeks, Gavi and y/n spent more time together. He would often find her sketching or taking photographs around the city, and she would attend his matches, cheering him on from the stands. Their bond grew stronger with each passing day, a blend of friendship and budding romance.

One evening, Gavi took y/n to a secluded spot overlooking the city. The view was breathtaking, with the Sagrada Familia illuminated in the distance and the Mediterranean Sea shimmering under the moonlight. They sat down on a bench, the city sprawled out below them."I wanted to share this view with you," Gavi said, his voice soft. "It's one of my favorite places in the city.""It's beautiful," y/n replied, gazing at the twinkling lights below. "Thank you for bringing me here."Gavi turned to her, his eyes filled with emotion. "Y/n, you've changed my life in ways I never thought possible. You see the world with such beauty and grace, and you've taught me to do the same. I don't want to imagine my life without you."Y/n looked into his eyes, feeling a surge of emotion. "I feel the same way, Gavi. You've shown me that dreams can come true, and that love can be found in the most unexpected places."Under the starry sky, they shared their first kiss, a kiss that sealed their love and commitment to one another. It was a kiss that spoke of a future filled with shared dreams and endless possibilities.

As time went on, their love story continued to blossom. Gavi became a star on the football field, with y/n by his side, capturing every moment with her camera and her heart. They traveled the world together, exploring new places and creating memories that would last a lifetime.Their weekends were filled with adventures. They hiked the trails of Montjuïc, kayaked along the Costa Brava, and danced the night away during the festivals that lit up the city. They visited art galleries, where y/n would lose herself in the masterpieces, explaining their significance to Gavi, who listened with rapt attention.

@spidybaby