Drew Starkey pushed the door to the grocery store open, the familiar jingle of the bell greeting him. Y/N was stuck in a photoshoot for most of the day, so he figured he’d take care of dinner. He grabbed a cart and started making his way down the aisles, checking off items on his mental list: pasta, fresh vegetables, coffee, some snacks for late nights. He even remembered the little things Y/N liked—her favorite almond butter, that specific brand of sparkling water.

By the time he reached the checkout, his cart was full, and he was balancing a bag of apples in one hand while trying to juggle the reusable bags. The cashier smiled at him. “Looks like someone’s taking care of their lady,” she said.

Drew shrugged, smirking. “Gotta keep her happy.”

After paying, he wheeled the cart out to the car, but then remembered something crucial. Cigarettes. He hadn’t stocked up for himself in a few days, and running out now would be a tragedy.

He made his way down the street to the small cigarette shop he frequented. Inside, the familiar smell of tobacco hit him. He grabbed a pack of his usual, nodding to the clerk who already knew his routine. While paying, Drew glanced out the window—and froze for just a second.

Across the street was a lingerie boutique. He had passed it dozens of times, but today, something about it called to him. Maybe it was the thought of Y/N, maybe it was just curiosity, but he found himself crossing the street and pushing the glass door open.

“Hi, can I help you?” a worker asked, tilting her head.

Drew casually leaned against the counter. “Yeah… I’m looking for something for a very special someone,” he said with a grin. “She’s a 34B.”

The worker blinked, clearly impressed. “Wow… that’s… very specific. You know her measurements?”

Drew chuckled. “Let’s just say I pay attention. She’s worth it.”

He wandered down the aisles, picking up a few delicate pieces, imagining how Y/N would look in each one. Lace, silk, soft pastels—everything felt fun and flirty, and he felt a little thrill at the thought of surprising her.

Even the worker seemed a little stunned at how well he knew exactly what would fit. “You must really know her,” she said, smiling.

Drew nodded, holding up a small, elegant set. “Believe me… I do.”

Bag in hand, cigarettes in the other, Drew stepped out of the boutique, letting the city noises wash over him. He hadn’t even thought about dinner yet—today, this little adventure had taken over. But he didn’t mind. Taking care of Y/N, even in ways like this, was more fun than anything else.