about me ── pansexual. ♓︎. she/her. writer. international relations student. dilf lover. taylor swift & bad bunny fan. michael robinavitch & ryan gosling controversially young girlfriend. i'm in almost every fandom. i write slow but yap a lot.
about my blog ── nsfw blog. dead-dove do not eat. mdni. fuck ai. i don't write underage, scat/vore, ageplay - age regression, noncon. if you're not sure, send an ask! requests are: open.
tv shows & movies ── supernatural, cod, marvel, the bear, the pitt, jujutsu kaisen, slashers, ryan gosling characters, tlou, dc comics, criminal minds & more !
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hi, i saw the wireplay ask. im not the anon, but i'll fill u in.
wireplay is a fetish involving interaction with an internal wirings (plugs, wires, cables etc.) in a sensual and erotic way. it only applies to robots, androids, machinery, the likes.
technically it's like pulling or unplugging someone's internal organs. yeah.
first of all, hi darling!! how are you? second; WAITT THAT'S CRAZYY i didn't know about that fetish!! thank you so much for telling me!! honestly, i'm so curious if i even COULD write something like that 😛 anyways, thank you for telling me, and omgg, thank you for following me<3
Hi! I haven’t actually done this before so apologies if this is wrong, but I’m wondering if you’ll be continuing the larsxreader storyline/oneshots(?) 🤔 im absolutely enamored at the moment
oh, hi!! i absolutely will! i was just talking with a friend about how i haven't written anything ROMANTIC ROMANTIC yet 😭😭 but i will i promise 🫡
your lars series is so lovely and tender and i am enjoying every bit 🥹
hi babyyy!! thank you so much<3 this is so dear to me 🥹 please tell me more of your thoughts about it or if you'd like to see something else between them!
oh, hi! pls don't kill me but i really don't know what's wireplay 🥹 and the google search was not really helpful :( i've been out freaked! but please tell me what it is and what you'll like to see<3
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🤍 ANON HERE ... THE OLDER BF DRIVER .. THE MUTUAL OBSESSION.... THE (somewhat) CONSENSUAL STALKING.... AND HIM DRIVING TO UR PLACE WITHOUT EVEN BEING TOLD THE ADDRESS .... I'M SENDING YOU A MORBILLION DOLLARS IN MY HEAD RN !!!🫵
HI HI I'M SO SORRY FOR SEEING THIS SO LATE !!? i'm so happy you liked it! i was so scared thinking that maybe it was too much 😭 and i promise i'm writing the ryland blurb rn i didn't forget!!
Ryland stood in the hallway outside your apartment door, taller than you remembered, his longer hair falling in loose, sun-streaked strands around his face. The invitation had come casually enough—"come over after my shift"—but the way his eyes had lingered on you at the café counter told you it was anything but casual.
Your apartment was small but cozy, fairy lights strung along the window, a stack of vinyl records by the turntable. You'd shared a bottle of wine on the couch, talking about nothing and everything—your annoying manager at the cafe, his recent obsession with a new hobby he picked up.
The conversation flowed easy, the way it always did between you. But there was an undercurrent, a tension that had been building for months, ever since you'd moved in next door.
and next thing you know...
Your clothes were scattered across the floor. Your shirt near the kitchen island, his jeans by the coffee table. You were naked, straddling him on the wide leather couch, your back to his chest. Reverse cowgirl. Your thighs spread wide over his thighs, your pussy already slick and stretched around the thick length of his cock.
God, he was big.
You'd felt it the moment he'd entered you, a slow, deliberate push that had made you gasp, your fingers digging into the couch cushions. He filled you completely, that heavy weight pressing deep, spreading you open in a way that made you feel utterly fulfilled. Now you rocked back against him, taking him inch by inch, your ass grinding against his pelvis.
"Fuck," he breathed, his voice low and rough. One hand gripped your hip, guiding your movements, while the other tangled in your hair, fingers curling into a fistful of strands. He pulled, not hard enough to hurt but enough to tip your head back, exposing the long line of your throat.
You moaned, your rhythm faltering as the sting on your scalp sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your clit. You gasped, your hips rolling in a slow, circular motion, grinding yourself down on his cock.
He didn't stop. He tugged your hair again, a sharp, possessive pull that made you arch your back. The movement changed the angle, his cock sliding deeper, rubbing against that sweet spot inside you. Your breath hitched, a shaky cry escaping your lips.
You lifted your hips, letting his cock slide almost all the way out before sinking back down, a deliberate, torturous pace. The head of his dick caught on your entrance, stretching you wide before he pushed past, filling you completely. Each time you took him, the sensation of being so full made you dizzy.
He let go of your hair, both hands now gripping your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. He started to thrust up into you, meeting your descent with sharp, hard pumps, his pelvis slapping against your ass. The couch creaked beneath you, the sound mingling with your wet noises, the slick slide of his cock in and out of you.
Your eyes fluttered and rolled, your hands scrambling for purchase on his knees. You rode him harder, faster, your thighs burning with the effort, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
He leaned back against the couch, watching you—the curve of your spine, the way your ass bounced with each thrust, the flush spreading across your skin. He reached up again, grabbing a fistful of your hair at the nape of your neck, pulling you back against his chest.
You could feel every inch of him inside you, the way he stretched you, the way his cock throbbed with each beat of his pulse. You rocked against him, desperate for more friction, for the pressure on your clit that would send you over the edge.
He seemed to sense it. One hand slid from your hip, moving around your thigh, his fingers finding your clit, swollen and slick. He rubbed you in tight, precise circles, timed to the rhythm of your fucking.
Your orgasm hit you like a wave, your body convulsing, you clench around his cock in rhythmic pulses. You cried out, your head thrown back, your nails digging into his legs. He kept thrusting through it, his own control fraying, his hips slamming into you as he chased his own release.
He came with a guttural groan, his hands gripping you so hard they'd leave bruises, spurting deep inside you, filling you in thick, heavy pulses. He pumped into you, each spasm drawing out his climax, until finally he stilled, his forehead resting against your shoulder.
You stayed like that for a long moment, breathing hard, skin slick with sweat. He softened inside you, but neither of you moved, your body still wrapped around him, his arms wrapped around you.
cw : doggy, ooc lars, nsfw mdni ⋆˚࿔ blurb | 420 words ۶ৎ based on this post! this is so shit, bro. i really wanted to write something just like this with colt or ken but this ended up so badly i decided to wrap it up early.
your back arched hard; lars groaned at the sight of you. tits heaving and thighs shaking from the fact that he had already made you cum twice with his thick fingers before pounding his aching cock inside you.
“ah! ah!” he whined, thrusting. “i missed you; i missed you so bad." his words were slurred, as if his tongue and lips were refusing to cooperate.
your face was pressed against the pillow. your breathing came out in short, ragged gasps, chest rising and falling urgently as you desperately tried to fill your lungs with air. it was as though your body was refusing to cooperate with you; your eyes were puffy and watery, your eyelashes fluttering gently, and you could feel your own hips twitching up involuntarily as your walls clenched around him in an almost desperate manner.
“i missed you too." you could hear the rawness in your voice, husky and low as it rasped with every breath. “i— fuuuck,” just as you were about to speak again, lars silenced you with a deep, hard thrust, his thick cock filling you open.
“you feel so good, bug,” he murmured, voice raspy and uneven, nodding as if talking to himself. his hips never slowed. “don’t you? so good.”
the sounds of his dick plowing in and out of you in squelching noises filled the room, each snap of his hips hitting the back of your pussy. mouth hanging open against the pillow as drool seeped into the cotton. you didn’t even notice. all you could think at the moment was the force of his hips pistoning inside you.
you strained to lift your head up; you knew lars was about to cum. maybe it was the fact that his hips faltered slightly, once. then twice. his cock pulsing deep inside you like a warning and you needed to see his face.
your hair was disheveled, lips slick and glimmering with saliva where they'd been pressed into the mattress. your eyes met lars's ones. one of his hands, which had been previously holding your wrists down, pulled away slowly and gave a tiny, wobbly wave.
you buried your face into the pillow again, trying very hard to stifle your laughter. you lifted your head and, despite knowing better, matched his wave. fingers mimicking his gesture.
“hi lar— oh fuck,” you moaned, greeting long forgotten. your eyes rolled back as he reeled in his hips and shot hot ropes of cum deep into your cunt, pouring deep inside you.
hii its 🤍 anon again (wowie what a surprise) but do you write for the driver as well? its ok if not ♡ I just think older bf driver is a whole other concept that im Not Quite Sure I'm Emotionally Prepared For
ARE YOU A PSYCHIC?? because i’m literally in the middle of writing something for older!ex-bf driver RIGHT NOW?? and yes… he is a stalker in it 🤭
okayy so, my thoughts about older!bf driver to help the drought in the meanwhile!! cw: obsessive behavior, mutual fixation, innocence kink i think?? i tried so hard to make this fluffy but damn
you probably meet because you’re working late shifts at some tiny cafe to help pay your college bills.
you think he’s attractive, obviously, but you don’t dwell on it too much at first. he’s quiet in a way that only makes you more curious. one night, while handing him his coffee, you tell him you like his jacket.
he gives you this small, almost hesitant:
“thank you.”
and that’s it.
but driver’s mind has a tendency to spiral. a pretty girl being so kind to him, and you look so innocent and young standing behind the counter under yellow lights. and the neighborhood at night is rough, so he can't help to stay until your shift ends.
he tells himself he’s only making sure you get home safe. you don’t even notice the car at first, walking alone at night, cutting through side streets and dim alleys without a second thought. from behind the wheel, driver’s grip tightens every time someone passes too close to you.
you’re too trusting, too unaware. you're lucky he's following you so close.
the truth is, you noticed him the second he walked into the cafe.
your coworker thinks he’s such a creepy dude, but every time you catch his eyes on you, your heartbeat stutters hard enough to make you dizzy.
you start using the front entrance instead of the back because you want him to know exactly where you're going. you take the quieter route home just to know if he'll do something with the fact that he has you all alone for him. you need to know how far his attention goes.
and you start watching him back. he comes every day at the same hour, and you memorize his order like the back of your hand, and before he even asks, you smile politely and hand him his coffee already. it sure doesn't help the obsession he already has for you.
you’re the one who asks him out first. he says yes immediately. he doesn’t say much else after that, but you don’t really mind. there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes up for the lack of words.
you wear a soft white dress; you know exactly what you’re doing, acting all innocent when in reality you've touched yourself at the thought of him watching you so intensely.
when you get into his car, you grin and point at his jacket. “look, we’re matching.”
his eyes flick down at your dress for half a second before he starts driving again, jaw tightening almost imperceptibly.
he takes you to a little viewpoint far away from the city noise, somewhere quiet enough that the only sounds are the wind and distant traffic below. you sit together on a blanket. at one point, a strand of hair falls across your face.
driver reaches over automatically, slow enough to give you time to pull away if you want to. his knuckles brush your cheek as he tucks the strand back into place, fingers lingering just slightly longer than necessary. without thinking, you lean into his hand.
afterwards, the drive back to your apartment is quiet but comfortable. the city lights blur across the windshield while his hand rests loose against your thigh.
when he parks outside your building, neither of you moves right away.
“thank you for tonight,” you murmur softly, and before he can answer, you lean over and press a quick kiss to his lips.
you smile at him one last time before slipping out of the car and disappearing inside the building. driver sits there for several long minutes afterwards, fingertips still curled tightly around the steering wheel.
the realization hits him too fast, you never gave him your address. he's so fucked.
Older!Bf Colt (like later thirties or early fourties,37 youngest) who fixates on reader at a coffee shop or shoot maybe something even more random... and boldly asks to take you out and when you say "y'know you're old enough to be like my professor...that's...hot actually." HES EVEN MORE DETERMINED AND CRIPPLINGLY TURNED ON.
OH GOD HII, idk how but this ended up being more like a man-eater younger fem!reader who will absolutely make him beg for it 😛 cw: nsfw, younger fem!reader, older!colt seavers, colt is kind of a perv…
older bf!colt seavers who's in his late thirties, and meets you for the first time at your workplace.
you work at a small coffee shop near the set where colt’s filming his newest stunt job.
his best friend, dan, hyped the place up so much that colt eventually had to see it for himself. besides, the café’s cute, all warm lights and mismatched chairs, with one of those little bells above the door that jingles every time someone walks in.
and then he sees you.
you’re standing behind the counter wearing these glasses that make your eyes stand out ridiculously well, plus a low-cut shirt that nearly makes him walk directly into a wall.
you look up and smile.
“hi,” you say brightly. “welcome to kisses. what can i get you?”
colt blinks once.
“kisses? that’s a pretty dangerous name for a coffee shop.”
you laugh softly. “dangerous?”
“yeah,” he says, leaning casually against the counter. “sets expectations real high.”
you giggle at that, and he swears the sound goes straight to his cock.
“well, our slogan is ‘welcome to kisses, you want some?’”
colt raises his eyebrows immediately.
you realize how that sounded and nearly trip over your own words trying to explain yourself.
“no— wait, i mean— not like that. that’s literally just the slogan.”
he bites back a groan, watching you fluster yourself in the sweetest way possible.
“ah,” he says solemnly. “that’s disappointing.”
you squint at him over the register while he finally laughs, all easy and boyish.
“i’m kidding, sweetheart. mostly.”
one of your eyebrows lifts. “so what’s your name, sweetheart?” you ask, throwing his own words back at him with a pointed edge.
“colt. colt seavers.” he gives you a lazy little wave. “pleasure to meet you.”
“colt,” you repeat slowly, like you’re testing how the name sounds in your mouth.
his jeans start to feel strangely tight at that moment.
“do you flirt with every younger barista,” you ask lightly, “or am i just incredibly lucky?”
colt lets out a low whistle, leaning against the counter.
“what can i say? i support small businesses.”
you laugh despite yourself. then you push your glasses down your nose slightly with one finger, looking him up and down in a way that makes his brain short-circuit for half a second.
“you know i’m, like, still in college, right?” you ask. “you could probably be one of my professors.”
colt nearly chokes on air. because, unfortunately, that is maybe the hottest thing anyone has ever said to him.
he coughs once, buying himself a second to pretend his dick is not twitching inside his pants in front of you.
“well,” he says finally, “good thing i’m not.”
you tilt your head, making a small pout with your lips. “is it?”
“for my well-being?" colt says. “yeah. probably.”
“could be kind of hot, don’t you think?” you tease, stepping a little closer. “oh no, professor, i need more credits to pass your class."
for the first time since walking into the café, colt genuinely loses his train of thought. he stares at you for a second too long before dragging a hand down his face with a groan.
“oh god,” he mutters, a soft whine escaping his mouth. he wants nothing more than to jump over the counter, lift that skimpy skirt you're wearing, and fuck you in front of everyone, but he can't just yet.
“yeah,” you say softly. “you wouldn't survive me, sir.”
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guys i'm back (still sick!) but like ??? i told one of my friends that i didn't know what else there was to write about lars and neurodivergent reader and she was like, "well... they didn't kiss yet" OMFGGG WHAT DO YOU MEAN I FORGOT TO MAKE THEM KISS 😭😭
hi my babies <3 i'll be a little inactive for a while because i got reallyy sick, and i'm one of those people that when they get sick they get SICK so i don't really even have strength to write rn, i'm really really sorry 😭😭 i promise i'll be back to write as fast as possible!!
Older!Bf Colt (like later thirties or early fourties,37 youngest) who fixates on reader at a coffee shop or shoot maybe something even more random... and boldly asks to take you out and when you say "y'know you're old enough to be like my professor...that's...hot actually." HES EVEN MORE DETERMINED AND CRIPPLINGLY TURNED ON.
OH GOD HII, idk how but this ended up being more like a man-eater younger fem!reader who will absolutely make him beg for it 😛 cw: nsfw, younger fem!reader, older!colt seavers, colt is kind of a perv…
older bf!colt seavers who's in his late thirties, and meets you for the first time at your workplace.
you work at a small coffee shop near the set where colt’s filming his newest stunt job.
his best friend, dan, hyped the place up so much that colt eventually had to see it for himself. besides, the café’s cute, all warm lights and mismatched chairs, with one of those little bells above the door that jingles every time someone walks in.
and then he sees you.
you’re standing behind the counter wearing these glasses that make your eyes stand out ridiculously well, plus a low-cut shirt that nearly makes him walk directly into a wall.
you look up and smile.
“hi,” you say brightly. “welcome to kisses. what can i get you?”
colt blinks once.
“kisses? that’s a pretty dangerous name for a coffee shop.”
you laugh softly. “dangerous?”
“yeah,” he says, leaning casually against the counter. “sets expectations real high.”
you giggle at that, and he swears the sound goes straight to his cock.
“well, our slogan is ‘welcome to kisses, you want some?’”
colt raises his eyebrows immediately.
you realize how that sounded and nearly trip over your own words trying to explain yourself.
“no— wait, i mean— not like that. that’s literally just the slogan.”
he bites back a groan, watching you fluster yourself in the sweetest way possible.
“ah,” he says solemnly. “that’s disappointing.”
you squint at him over the register while he finally laughs, all easy and boyish.
“i’m kidding, sweetheart. mostly.”
one of your eyebrows lifts. “so what’s your name, sweetheart?” you ask, throwing his own words back at him with a pointed edge.
“colt. colt seavers.” he gives you a lazy little wave. “pleasure to meet you.”
“colt,” you repeat slowly, like you’re testing how the name sounds in your mouth.
his jeans start to feel strangely tight at that moment.
“do you flirt with every younger barista,” you ask lightly, “or am i just incredibly lucky?”
colt lets out a low whistle, leaning against the counter.
“what can i say? i support small businesses.”
you laugh despite yourself. then you push your glasses down your nose slightly with one finger, looking him up and down in a way that makes his brain short-circuit for half a second.
“you know i’m, like, still in college, right?” you ask. “you could probably be one of my professors.”
colt nearly chokes on air. because, unfortunately, that is maybe the hottest thing anyone has ever said to him.
he coughs once, buying himself a second to pretend his dick is not twitching inside his pants in front of you.
“well,” he says finally, “good thing i’m not.”
you tilt your head, making a small pout with your lips. “is it?”
“for my well-being?" colt says. “yeah. probably.”
“could be kind of hot, don’t you think?” you tease, stepping a little closer. “oh no, professor, i need more credits to pass your class."
for the first time since walking into the café, colt genuinely loses his train of thought. he stares at you for a second too long before dragging a hand down his face with a groan.
“oh god,” he mutters, a soft whine escaping his mouth. he wants nothing more than to jump over the counter, lift that skimpy skirt you're wearing, and fuck you in front of everyone, but he can't just yet.
“yeah,” you say softly. “you wouldn't survive me, sir.”
you lick your lips nervously, eyes fixed on lars’. “i hope i make you feel the same way,” you whisper. ۶ৎ
pairings ! lars lindstrom x fem!reader
warnings ! lowercase on purpose, reader can be read as neurodivergent, FLUFF so so much fluff it's disgusting, karin's baby is described as a girl named lara, english is not my first language!! part 2.5 (?) of this ! title from: misuse oh — ethel cain.
author's note ! so this is how i think the babysitting went down! the first part didn't really specify the baby's gender or name, but i decided to do it in this os and i'm a sucker for girl uncle lars so yeah! this is the first time i've written only fluff with no angst and it felt so weirdd omg i hope i did some justice to the comfort fics!?
word count ! 2,6k words babyy
the front door closes behind karin and gus with a soft click. you and lars are completely alone at the house now.
and also responsible for a baby.
“alright, lara,” you murmur solemnly. “let’s try to make the best of this.”
she scrunches her little nose immediately afterwards, her face twisting at you like she understands perfectly.
“have you ever taken care of her before?” you ask lars carefully.
you glance towards him, and he’s already watching your every movement with the small baby in your hands. he shakes his head.
right, of course. you’d suspected as much already. there’s a visible stiffness to the way he stands around lara.
“they left her with two people who have absolutely no idea what they’re doing,” you mumble quietly to the baby.
lars’ shoulders tense instantly. you soften your voice immediately.
“b-but that’s okay,” you add gently, and fast, looking at him now instead of the baby. “we just follow the instructions karin and gus left us.”
you smile at him reassuringly. lars nods once, still visibly worried.
his hands remain tucked carefully at his sides, fingers flexing nervously every few seconds. you suddenly realize he probably thinks he’ll somehow hurt the baby accidentally if he holds her wrong. the thought hurts your chest a little.
you move towards the kitchen eventually, lara balanced carefully against your hip. there’s a note taped messily to the refrigerator. lars immediately hands it to you, trying really hard to be useful in small ways that make you so soft.
you stare at it, then reread it. you squint harder the third time.
“whose handwriting is this?” you ask him.
lars glances over from where he’s standing awkwardly beside the counter.
“that’s gus.”
you huff, “he doesn’t know how to make a list.” you groan, and lars looks a little smitten with the fact that you're so pissed at this. he knows how much you love making lists and sorting things; that's why your job in the fabric shop is so dear to you.
“this is, pardon my french, absolute shit.”
a soft, startled giggle slips out of lars; he quiets down immediately, but the sound hits you directly in the chest. every time you make lars laugh, something inside you lights up embarrassingly fast. like winning something precious in the annual fair.
you smile down at the note to hide your own expression.
“we’ll figure it out,” you mutter eventually, mostly to yourself. your eyes drop back to lara again.
“are you going to give us trouble today?” she blinks, slowly. you sigh immediately, already knowing the answer.
babies only really possess one language at first: crying. and lara seems exceptionally fluent in it. you wonder suddenly if she inherited that from lars too.
the thought comforts you more than it probably should.
lara inheriting lars’ sensitivity feels strangely sweet, as if softness might survive inside families despite everything and being overwhelmed by the world could simply be just another trait passed between generations, the same way people inherit eye color or crooked smiles.
you adjust her gently against your hip.
“so what’s a normal routine for a baby?” you wonder aloud. “do they eat dinner?”
lars looks deeply concerned immediately. “i think we should call karin.”
you pout instinctively.
“there’s no need. we can handle this.” there's a beat of quiet for a second, “and you know how much i hate asking for help.” the confession leaves your mouth almost secretively, like the baby herself might overhear.
lars glances at you while reaching for the list again.
“you let me help you.” the words land softly, more like a fact than a statement.
“yeah, but…” you hesitate, trying to explain something difficult using ordinary words. “you’re different from everyone else.”
lars stills slightly beside you; you pretend not to notice that he's waiting for the moment that he's the punchline of the joke.
instead, you focus on gus’ horrible excuse for an instructions list taped to the fridge. your eyes land on ‘mashed banana’ written. good enough.
“peel this for me,” you say, handing lars a banana while shifting lara higher against your waist. he takes it automatically.
“different how?”
you open the refrigerator mostly to avoid looking at him immediately; cold air spills against your face while you search distractedly for strawberries somewhere in the back. lara grabs absently at your sweater sleeve with tiny, clumsy fingers.
“you know…” you hate vague answers, but the seconds you pretend to be distracted give you enough time to search for the words inside you. “i’m not really good with people,” you continue eventually, voice quieter now. “i’m not funny, nor intelligent.”
behind you, lars stops moving entirely; you keep talking before he can protest.
“but you…” your fingers finally brush against the plastic container hidden near the back shelf. “you actually look happy when you see me.”
lara makes a tiny, sleepy sound against your shoulder.
“you listen when i talk about fabric,” you continue with a soft breath of laughter. “most people look like they’d rather die… and you make me feel human.”
you finally look back at him then; he’s standing beside the counter holding a fork and half-mashed banana like he forgot entirely what his hands were supposed to be doing. you smile a little despite yourself.
“i guess what i’m trying to… explain,” you say gently, “is that you gave me some sense of normalcy.”
lars closes his eyes immediately afterward. you recognize the reaction by now. his ears flush bright red almost instantly, color spreading so vividly he genuinely resembles one of the strawberries sitting forgotten in your hand. he's embarrassed.
you lick your lips nervously, eyes fixed on lars’.
“i hope i make you feel the same way,” you whisper.
his entire face softens so suddenly it feels almost painful to witness, something fragile and startled opening behind his eyes. you think, briefly, that he’s about to say something back.
then lara starts crying, loudly. the sound bursts the little bubble around you two. one second the kitchen feels warm and suspended and unbearably intimate, lars blushing beside the counter while your chest aches from almost saying too much, and the next there’s a screaming baby in your arms demanding immediate attention from the universe.
“hey, hey, it’s okay,” you soothe immediately, bouncing lara gently against your hip. “look, my full attention is on you now, yeah?”
she continues crying directly into your collarbone. you sigh dramatically.
“who even is uncle lars anyway?” you say; your own stupid joke makes you giggle a little.
lars ducks his head immediately, smiling so hard he has to hide it behind his shoulder for a second.
“c’mon,” you murmur softly to lara, adjusting her blanket. “i know you’re hungry.”
you glance towards lars pointedly. he startles slightly before remembering the banana in his hands. he resumes mashing immediately.
the baby food is ready soon afterward.
bananas smashed unevenly together with tiny pieces of strawberry, the consistency vaguely concerning but probably acceptable for the palate of a baby. you remember someone once saying babies should explore texture independently or something.
but honestly, “here comes the train" is infinitely funnier.
you scoop up a tiny spoonful dramatically, making soft train noises while guiding it to lara’s mouth. she opens her mouth for the spoon and you beam immediately.
“there we go,” you murmur softly.
less than four spoonfuls later, she closes her mouth determined.
“alright,” you say. “looks like someone’s full, huh?” you've noticed that your voice turns sweeter automatically around her.
lara responds by making a tiny pout, your brows knit together instantly confused.
before you can even ask what’s wrong, not that she’d answer with words anyway, her face crumples completely and she starts crying again.
“oh no, no, no—” you lift her immediately from the chair, settling her carefully against your shoulder while rocking gently from side to side. unlike before, though, the crying doesn’t ease. if anything, it worsens.
lars appears beside you almost instantly, closer than he normally allows himself. concern is written all over him now, visible in the tension of his shoulders and the tight hold his hands are locked.
lara notices him. the crying weakens immediately into soft, hiccuping little sounds.
your eyes widen.
“oh.” you turn back towards lars so fast you nearly laugh. “oh, lars.”
excitement bursts suddenly through your voice.
“she didn’t stop crying earlier because i was rocking her,” you realize aloud. “she stopped because she saw you.”
lara whines again impatiently, tiny hands flexing against your sweater. you smile so hard your cheeks hurt.
“she wants her uncle.”
of course she does, you think suddenly. even babies recognize gentleness.
you extend lara towards him immediately, grin wide across your face. “hold her.”
lars looks horrified. “i don’t—”
you sigh, angling lara slightly back against yourself again. she cries instantly, cheeks puffing. then carefully back to lars, and a tiny giggle escapes her lips.
“yeah, okay.”
“put your right hand on her lower back,” you guide gently, stepping closer while carefully avoiding brushing his skin directly. “and let her head rest here— yeah, against your chest.”
lars obeys every instruction, and the second lara settles properly against him, her entire body relaxes.
“there,” you whisper. “see? she likes you.”
lars' eyes grow bigger, like he still can't believe it even with all the evidence.
“go sit on the couch,” you murmur softly. “she’s probably tired.”
lars nods carefully and starts moving towards the living room in a way that kind of reminds you of penguins.
the sudden absence of weight feels strange. you hadn’t realized how tense your muscles became holding her until now.
while lars settles carefully onto the couch, you move towards the sink. you start washing everything quietly, hoping to make karin and gus's lives easier.
from the kitchen doorway, you glance over. lars is laying stiffly on the couch while lara sleeps heavily against his chest.
“this is nice,” he murmurs to himself.
you can’t stop smiling afterwards.
you dry the dishes slowly with the soft kitchen rag; the whole place feels peaceful now. after the last dish is tucked back into its place, you wipe your hands against your pants absentmindedly and wander quietly back in the direction of the couch.
lars is still there, exactly where you left him. you almost call his name, then you notice his eyes are closed.
he fell asleep, with lara still curled against his chest. and lars looks… comfortable.
his body has softened completely into the couch cushions, one arm wrapped instinctively around lara while she sleeps against him. his head tilts slightly against hers even unconsciously, protective in sleep the same way he is awake.
you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look this unguarded before. lars feels safe here, with her. with you.
as quietly as possible, you turn toward the stairs instead into the pink room upstairs.
a knitted blanket rests abandoned over the rocking chair in the corner, soft yellow fabric worn thinner in some places from use.
you take it carefully, descending the stairs avoiding the loud steps.
back in the living room, you drape the blanket gently over both of them. there's a small space left beside lars on the couch.
enough room for another person.
you hesitate, staring at the empty space for several long seconds.
it wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?
slowly, carefully, you lower yourself beside him. you stay rigid, barely breathing. gradually, warmth seeps through the blanket towards you and your muscles loosen one by one. you lean back softly against the couch, close enough to hear lars breathing.
close enough that your shoulder nearly brushes his beneath the blanket.
your eyes drift shut slowly afterwards, and for the first time in a very long while, falling asleep doesn’t feel lonely at all.
——
“gus, hush,” you hear someone whisper sharply nearby. “oh, see? you woke her.”
your eyes blink open carefully against the dim living room light. you’re still on the couch, only now you’re closer to lars than before.
somewhere during sleep your body drifted naturally towards his warmth, shoulder tucked softly against his side while lara remains asleep between you both.
“oh god.” you sit upright too fast. the movement sends dizziness crashing briefly through your head while the couch shifts beneath you.
lars startles awake instantly beside you, eyes wide with confusion, and lara lets out a sleepy sound.
“sorry,” you whisper automatically to the baby.
when your vision clears properly, karin is standing near the doorway, staring at both of you with the single biggest smile you’ve ever seen on her face. you’re almost certain she’s hiding a camera behind her back.
lars groans quietly beside you, rubbing sleep from his face.
“what time is it?” his voice is rough with exhaustion.
“it’s only nine,” gus says while carefully lifting lara from the couch. “you’re okay.”
lara settles immediately against his chest.
“did you two have fun?” he asks casually.
heat rushes straight into your face. beside you, lars looks red.
“yeah,” you answer softly before either of you can spiral into full embarrassment. “she likes taking naps with her uncle.”
you can’t stop smiling while saying it.
“thank you for watching her,” karin says sincerely.
you wave dismissively. “it was nothing; lars did most of the work.”
“i— i should go now,” he mumbles suddenly.
he stands too quickly, scrambling awkwardly for his scarf and jacket. and you're halfway to gathering your own things when karin suddenly grabs your arm, making you nearly jump out of your skin.
“so?” she whispers immediately, eyes practically glowing. “did anything happen?”
you stare at her knowingly; your eyes answer her before words do.
“nothing happened?” she asks, devastated.
you giggle quietly. your eyes drift instinctively towards lars across the room while he struggles unsuccessfully with one sleeve of his coat.
“there wasn't a need for anything to happen,” you tell her gently.
karin opens her mouth immediately to argue, then follows your gaze. and stops with a half-parted mouth. lars is looking at you too.
ah, karin thinks. there wasn't a need for anything to happen because there is already something happening. maybe lars doesn’t fully understand it himself. maybe you don’t either. but neither of you seems particularly interested in rushing.
by the time you’re both dressed again, there's a light layer of falling snow.
you say your goodbyes softly near the doorway, then step outside together. you glance towards lars knowing you only have a few minutes left before reaching his porch across from karin and gus’ house.
a few minutes beside him before the evening ends completely.
“hand?” you ask simply. lars nods immediately like he’d been hoping you'd ask.
he offers you his gloved hand carefully, palm slightly awkward beneath thick wool. you nearly laugh, realizing how ridiculous the two of you must look, constantly inventing tiny excuses to touch without technically touching.
if karin knew how often this happened, she’d become unbearable.
you slip your hand into his anyway. lars smiles softly beside you while the two of you walk slowly towards his porch together.
his gloves are different, newer. the gloves you’re wearing now are still his.
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hii its 🤍 anon again (wowie what a surprise) but do you write for the driver as well? its ok if not ♡ I just think older bf driver is a whole other concept that im Not Quite Sure I'm Emotionally Prepared For
ARE YOU A PSYCHIC?? because i’m literally in the middle of writing something for older!ex-bf driver RIGHT NOW?? and yes… he is a stalker in it 🤭
okayy so, my thoughts about older!bf driver to help the drought in the meanwhile!! cw: obsessive behavior, mutual fixation, innocence kink i think?? i tried so hard to make this fluffy but damn
you probably meet because you’re working late shifts at some tiny cafe to help pay your college bills.
you think he’s attractive, obviously, but you don’t dwell on it too much at first. he’s quiet in a way that only makes you more curious. one night, while handing him his coffee, you tell him you like his jacket.
he gives you this small, almost hesitant:
“thank you.”
and that’s it.
but driver’s mind has a tendency to spiral. a pretty girl being so kind to him, and you look so innocent and young standing behind the counter under yellow lights. and the neighborhood at night is rough, so he can't help to stay until your shift ends.
he tells himself he’s only making sure you get home safe. you don’t even notice the car at first, walking alone at night, cutting through side streets and dim alleys without a second thought. from behind the wheel, driver’s grip tightens every time someone passes too close to you.
you’re too trusting, too unaware. you're lucky he's following you so close.
the truth is, you noticed him the second he walked into the cafe.
your coworker thinks he’s such a creepy dude, but every time you catch his eyes on you, your heartbeat stutters hard enough to make you dizzy.
you start using the front entrance instead of the back because you want him to know exactly where you're going. you take the quieter route home just to know if he'll do something with the fact that he has you all alone for him. you need to know how far his attention goes.
and you start watching him back. he comes every day at the same hour, and you memorize his order like the back of your hand, and before he even asks, you smile politely and hand him his coffee already. it sure doesn't help the obsession he already has for you.
you’re the one who asks him out first. he says yes immediately. he doesn’t say much else after that, but you don’t really mind. there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes up for the lack of words.
you wear a soft white dress; you know exactly what you’re doing, acting all innocent when in reality you've touched yourself at the thought of him watching you so intensely.
when you get into his car, you grin and point at his jacket. “look, we’re matching.”
his eyes flick down at your dress for half a second before he starts driving again, jaw tightening almost imperceptibly.
he takes you to a little viewpoint far away from the city noise, somewhere quiet enough that the only sounds are the wind and distant traffic below. you sit together on a blanket. at one point, a strand of hair falls across your face.
driver reaches over automatically, slow enough to give you time to pull away if you want to. his knuckles brush your cheek as he tucks the strand back into place, fingers lingering just slightly longer than necessary. without thinking, you lean into his hand.
afterwards, the drive back to your apartment is quiet but comfortable. the city lights blur across the windshield while his hand rests loose against your thigh.
when he parks outside your building, neither of you moves right away.
“thank you for tonight,” you murmur softly, and before he can answer, you lean over and press a quick kiss to his lips.
you smile at him one last time before slipping out of the car and disappearing inside the building. driver sits there for several long minutes afterwards, fingertips still curled tightly around the steering wheel.
the realization hits him too fast, you never gave him your address. he's so fucked.
Hiii! I love what you write and I just wanted to wish a great day and for your pillow to be fresh on both sides 🫶
OMGGG I JUST WOKE UP FROM THE FIREST NAP EVER, and this almost made me cry!! thank you so much. after the day i had, i really needed that <3 i'm so glad you like what i write 😭💗 i wish you a great day too, love!
