#I only had them for about a week but I absolutely love them

[reidmania]

opposites attract | s. reid

summary; spencer would give the world to be your person, even after you argue that you two are too different.

warnings; fem reader, pining!spencer, lowkey pining!reader, bombshell!reader, rejection, reader is described as confident and more of a black cat, insecurities, doubting, a bad date mentioned, happy ending, spencer lowkey gets frustrated, reader has tattoos.

an; messy and switches perspectives whoopsies. Idk how many words, a lot. Too many.

Two years. That was how long Spencer had been a complete and utter mess. Two years since his brain didn’t quite function the same, he remained intelligent, sure, but god so incomplete. Two years since you started at the BAU, two years since he met you.

You were out of his league. He had decided it the moment he laid eyes on you. You were stunning, absolutely perfect in anyones gaze. You were everything he could ever want and more, not just physically. Your laugh, your voice, the way you spoke to everyone around you, gentle, warm. The way you sat quietly in the corner most days, not because you felt out of place, nor shy, not because you didn’t enjoy being there, but just because no matter where in a room you were, your presence was known. Especially to Spencer.

He tried to pretend that he didn’t fall completely in love with you the first time the two of you ever had a conversation and you spoke to him with a smile, listened to him, he tried to pretend the scent of your perfume didn’t make him lightheaded, and the sight of your tattoo that he only saw on occasion’s didn’t make him wonder if you had more, what made you get it, was there meaning?

Spencer wanted to know everything about you, he wanted to live in your brain and know your every like and dislike, what made you smile a little wider, what made you unable to stop laughing, what your favourite drink was, what colour you liked the most, where your family was from, your middle name.

Spencer would stop the world to know you.

That was impossible to hide, even two years later. He tried, so many times to get your attention, to be the subject of your fascination. It didn’t help that every-time you looked in his direction his skin grew ten temperatures too warm and his head spun.

He tried asking you out, twice. Sort of.

The first time was too subtle, too rambling and hidden in the mix of stutters and hot cheeks, fidgeting hands. Because you were looking at him, with a gaze so intense and caring, patient.

How was he ever suppose to talk when you were looking at him like that? Like there was something that made him worth the gravity the warmth in your eyes held.

“Would you date me?” It was blurted out on a Tuesday afternoon, you were standing beside him as the buzz of the bullpen had calmed down, your gaze was focused on reorganising the files on his desk, his gaze was on you. You were reorganising because you didn’t like the way he had done it, and it had been ‘bugging’ you for weeks.

Spencer loved the way his files were organised, but he loved you more.

It was stupid, he didn’t even mean to say it. It was out of place leaving his lips and he knew it the moment your head turned towards him and a sweet laugh left your lips, not mocking him, god you would never. It was a laugh of shock, confusion, maybe even surprise.

“Are you asking me out?” You asked, raising your eyebrow slightly as you met his eyes. His cheeks heated before he could help it, eyes went wide because he had no idea what he was doing.

“What- I- no.” His voice was an octave higher, a tell sign he was nervous, if you needed any more tell signs between the fidgeting of his hands, his bright pink cheeks and his avoidant gaze. You smiled as you shook your head, looking back at the files on his desk, he watched your hand as your ran your finger along them once they were organised neatly, anyone else he might’ve cringed at the sight, but it was you.

“I don’t think so” You had mumbled in response and Spencer felt the world shift into an imbalance. You said it so casually. He didn’t know if his heart was beating too fast or if it was breaking. You turned your head back to look at him, a frown on your lips when you saw the frown that had snuck its way onto his features before he could even realise.

“Not because you aren’t great. Or attractive. You are — You definitely are. I just think we are too different.” You said. His eyebrows knitted together as he met your eyes. He hated the fact you were frowning, he hated the fact he was frowning. He hated what you had just said, god he loved you.

“Right” he didn’t know what to say.

“Spence” You spoke through a warm huff of laughter, shaking your head as you twisted your body to face him fully, your hip leaning against the desk as you crossed your arms over your chest. He watched your hair fall down the sides of your face, over your shoulders. He wondered if you had changed your shampoo since the last time, the only time you had hugged him a few weeks ago, when he had gotten the chance to breath it in, and then it was all he thought about for weeks.

You smiled at him and it was contagious, despite the ache in his chest and overwhelming sense of illness in his stomach, you were smiling. “I think you’re amazing, i always have” you started and his cheeks warmed more. “But we are complete opposite’s.”

He wanted to argue you. Say that he could change and be more like you, more like the guys he had seen pick you up after work, he could be whatever you wanted. He could be someone. Someone to you.

But he didn’t.

That was the last time Spencer had attempted to ask you out, you never bought it up. You never questioned it again, you didn’t push you ask why he wanted to know. Spencer remained sickeningly in love with everything about you, you remained pretending to not notice.

Why were you here? You couldn’t quite remember or find the time to think about it properly between the noise surrounding the fancy restaurant you were in and the sickening long rant the boy in front of you was going on. Something about a business, something about saving it, something egotistical and sickeningly boring.

The date starts out fine. It’s all small talk at first—work, hobbies, the usual pleasantries. But soon, you realize that Mark has a lot to say. About himself. A lot.

“And then I closed the deal,” he says, recounting some work story about how he single-handedly saved his company from financial ruin. He leans back in his chair, smiling like he’s just told you the most fascinating thing in the world. You nod politely, but your mind starts to wander. His voice fades into the background as you think about something else, someone else.

Spencer.

You wonder what he’s doing right now. Probably at home, curled up with a book, or maybe he’s watching a documentary. You can almost picture him, pacing around his apartment, muttering facts to himself about some obscure topic that no one but him finds interesting. But you love that about him. He’s so passionate about everything, even the things that most people would overlook. And he’s never trying to show off. He just loves sharing what he knows.

You try to pay attention to the guy in front of you, you really really do. But god he is so boring. You wonder how quickly you could get one of your friends to come save you from this horror of a date. You wonder how long you would have to hide in the bathroom for before he disappeared.

Mark’s voice pulls you back to reality. “So, what do you think?” he asks.

“Hmm?” You blink, realizing you’ve missed the last five minutes of whatever he was talking about.

“I was saying,” he repeats, a little slower this time, “I just think it’s amazing how people like me can juggle so many things at once. Don’t you think?”

You smile, but it’s strained. “Sure, that’s impressive.”

As the date drags on, you start to notice little things. Like the way Mark talks to the waiter, snapping his fingers for attention, barely looking up from his phone when the waiter brings the food. He doesn’t say thank you. Not once. It’s subtle, but it grates on you. You find yourself cringing, wondering if anyone else notices.

He was much more interesting when he asked you out a few nights ago at a bar, when you were drunk. Why had you agreed? Maybe drunk you saw something sober you didn’t. Or maybe drunk you just saw a male who was conventionally attractive and made you laugh. You wondered how low the bar was

You didn’t have a lot of time to wonder before you heard your name from behind you, your head spun and you almost cried with gratefulness when you saw Penelope standing there, a wide grin on her face, and then Spencer standing beside her, he offered you a gentle shy wave that made your heart warm.

“Oh my gosh! Do you guys want to come sit?” You asked, praying they said yes, praying that Penelope noticed the wide urgent look in your eyes and understood that you were begging. You were genuinely begging for a conversation about anything other than Mark’s biggest accomplishments.

“Oh- We don’t want to interrupt.” Spencer mumbled, looking between you and Mark, the two of you sitting opposite sides of the booth you were in. You noticed the look in Spencer’s eye, you knew what it was. He didn’t want to sit there while you were on a date with someone else. Clearly he misread the urgency in your gaze.

“No! Mark doesn’t mind? Do you mind Mark?” You asked, spinning your head around to face Mark who was confused on the two people and why they were talking to you. Why they had interrupted him. You had to hold back the urge to roll your eyes.

“Uh..” he started, you cut him off. “He doesn’t mind. Come sit.” You shuffled over to make room for the two.

Penelope slides into the booth beside you, while Spencer takes the seat across from you, next to Mark. He looks nervous, his fingers tapping against the edge of the table, but he offers you a small, shy smile.

“What are you guys doing here?” you ask, trying to suppress the excitement bubbling up inside you.

“Oh, we were just nearby, and I figured we’d grab something to eat,” Penelope says.

Spencer fidgets with his napkin, glancing at you, then back at the table. “I-I was telling Penelope about this, uh, documentary I watched the other night. It’s about the history of the subway system in New York. I think you’d really like it.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Really?”

He nods, his eyes lighting up as he starts to explain. “Yeah, it’s fascinating, actually. They had to navigate all these geological challenges, and the engineering behind it is incredible. I know you mentioned once that you’re interested in architecture, and I thought you might appreciate how they designed the stations.”

You stare at him for a moment, surprised. You don’t even remember telling him that you liked architecture, but he did. And now, here he is, rambling about a documentary he thinks you’d enjoy, not because he’s trying to impress you, but because he genuinely thought you’d find it interesting.

Meanwhile, Mark is looking more and more uncomfortable, clearly not enjoying the conversation. He cuts in, talking over Spencer to launch into another story about himself, but you’re barely listening anymore. Instead, you’re watching Spencer, noticing how different he is from Mark. Spencer, who’s always so considerate, who listens more than he talks, who looks at you like you’re the most important person in the room, even when he’s nervous.

And then there’s Mark, who hasn’t asked you a single question all night, who’s rude to the waiter, and who’s more interested in hearing himself talk than getting to know you.

“I think I might head off..” Mark muttered, clearly annoyed at the fact you had not only been interrupted on your date, but also frustrated that you were paying more attention to Spencer than him. You couldn’t care less.

“Oh okay! Have a good night” You smiled, sickeningly nice as he shuffled his way past Spencer to leave the table. He glanced at you once, not saying anything before he walked away.

“He was an asshole!!” Penelope bursts out into laughter the minute Mark was out of earshot, you immediately joined her laughter while Spencer remained quiet, shuffling around on the now empty side of the booth.

“Those are the type of guys you go out with?” He asked, his voice was quiet, almost offended. You wish you understood why when you stopped laughing at met his gaze. You opened your mouth to talk as the tension around the table grew.

“Hey! Don’t judge!” She gasped out, pointing her finger dramatically at Spencer, clearly not noticing his underlying feelings and why he had even said anything, you did. “It’s slim pickings out here!!”

Spencer hummed, tapping his fingers against the table as he avoided meeting your gaze. You frowned slightly. Soon enough the conversation fell back into rhythm, flowing like it did any other time. They ate, you paid since it was your date. Then Penelope left.

You stood outside of the restaurant, looking around the busy streets. “How are you getting home?” Spencer asked, his gaze meeting yours as you tilted your head upwards to look at him, you couldn’t not smile. It was impossible not to smile around Spencer.

“Uh- Walking. I walked. It’s really not far.” You nodded to support your words as you buried your hands inside the warmth of your pockets. You had been in a state since Spencer had gotten there, a state you couldn’t quite explain. Silently lost in thought, a state of confusion? Maybe realisation.

“I’ll walk you home. Its late.” He said it like it was a no brainer. Like it was the most obvious thing for him to do. No date you had ever been on had offered you walk you home.

Every time Spencer speaks, you feel yourself softening, smiling without even realizing it. His nervous energy, the way he fumbles over his words, it’s all so endearing. He’s not trying to prove anything to you. He just wants to share the things he loves with you, and it’s the sweetest thing.

“Okay.” You breathe out the silent agreement before your feet find rhythm next to Spencer’s as you walk down the street, the post lights causing an orange glow across the ground, across his face.

“Theres a study.” Spencer started, his breathe coming out warm against the cold air causing a fog of steam to follow his breath, you watched it for an moment before your eyes flickered to the side of his face, you’re still walking, his gaze doesn’t meet yours.

“That uh— Shows that opposites attract, it’s more of a theory, since scientifically it doesn’t actually work like that — although negatives are attracted to positives if you’re looking at electricity — but uh- People believe that a lot of people are attracted to people opposite them, because each person offers something the other lacks, making the relationship feel more complete.. Majority of relationships that are built off of opposites work better than people who are too similar because theres more of a balance.. its chaotic but, it uh — it works.”

He was nervous. You could tell. Your breath hitched slightly as he spoke, as he brought it up again. Your mind tried to process the overload of information he had mumbled out. You tried to process it.

“So scientifically we wouldn’t work.” You huffed out. He laughed. Genuinely laugh, it was breathy and quiet but genuine and it made your heart warm.

“Technically— but theoretically—”

You cut him off, a rare occurrence, “I thought you were a science guy.” You mumbled.

He was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “I think I am just a you guy.”

You didn’t know what to say. It was sweet in a way that your brain couldn’t process. He was going against everything he believed to be correct because he wanted you?

“I thought data and statistics are the most reliable source of information.” You mumbled the response, words he had said, probably months ago. Why were you fighting him on this? Why were you fighting yourself on this? You weren’t sure.

“Sure; most of the time. But they are subjective. Especially when talking about psychologically. Each couple, each set of people — they’re different.” He said, his gaze didn’t meet yours. You pulled your eyes away to focus on the street in front of you. You were getting closer to your house, yet part of you wanted to stay right here.

“You think we could work?” You asked. It was a whisper.

He paused, you could see him nod in your peripheral. “I do. I’d make it work, i’d do anything.” Maybe it came out more desperate than he had intended, you found it sweet.

You found him sweet.

“Spencer” you paused your movements and his stopped with yours. His body turned to face you as you looked up at him. His eyes were pleading, desperate, hoping. It almost made your heart ache at the slight fear in them, that you were going to maybe reject him again.

But you found him sweet.

“Id date you.” You answered the question he had asked maybe months ago now, you didn’t realise until now that you had conveniently stopped outside your house. You turned your head to look at the front door before back at Spencer.

“Can i- uh- Will you- I-“ He stuttered and your heart warmed at his nervous attempt to ask you out.

“Yes.” You answered gently, saving him the hassle. Maybe being different was a good thing. Maybe you could beat the statistics that proved otherwise.

Maybe opposites did attract.

[finelinefae]

bambi [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing

word count: 8.6k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, dating app, online dating, deer!reader, first date, first kiss, fluff, age gap (9 years)

a/n: this is the first part of a new series. as usual the first part is a lil slow to set things up but I'm excited for what's to come of this one. there's going to be a lot of cuteness and all the things i love writing about in this one so i can't wait to share more !

. . .

Most of the time Y/N didn’t want to be in control of things. 

From a young age, she had to be in charge of everything. She had three younger brothers and was born to a single mother who worked hard to keep everything afloat in their tiny, townhouse. So inevitably she became an adult before she could even buy a lottery ticket. 

Her life wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t easy. With the constant nagging from her much younger siblings and the dampened sleeve of her t-shirt—evidence of the hours she spent comforting her mother through tears—Y/N had just had enough.

Her life had become an abundance of things she was struggling to keep up with. She had no reprieve throughout her daily life, no way of stopping or just letting go. 

She worked six-hour shifts at the supermarket, studied marketing at university, did the school run in the mornings, and often in the evenings too, if her mother was too tired to get off the couch. She tutored her youngest brother, who was falling behind in math, and kept the house in order while all three of them stayed glued to the television.

Even worse, her social life was practically nonexistent.. She was twenty-one and spent her Friday nights making dino nuggets and catching up on an incessant amount of laundry from the past week. 

Y/N wasn’t sure where her life was heading. The loneliness and stress was so overwhelming she could barely breathe. 

One night, the weight of it all brought her to tears as she thought about her future after graduation. Most of the girls she knew were planning gap years, travelling to places like Brazil or Italy. She tried to picture herself boarding a plane, but the only thing she could imagine was her mother calling mid-flight, asking her to pick up one of the boys from school.

She pulled open her phone eyes blotchy and nose stuffy from crying. Her loneliness was hitting her hard and she was desperate to feel some kind of connection, even if it was five minutes of conversation. So, she opened the only dating app she had on her phone, one that she’d installed many moons ago when she wanted to open herself up to meeting new people. 

She barely used it after realising she wasn’t the best at small talk and whenever a guy would ask for a date, her introverted self would refuse to step foot out of the house. But on occasion she’d find herself wondering, searching for someone to take her mind off of everything. 

Y/N swiped past copious images of men, seemingly unphased by all of them. She swiped through so many, that they almost began to look the same - 5’9, tanned, shirtless or lifting weights trying to show some kind of strength that proved to women they were most definitely ‘manly’. 

When she started to believe all hope was lost, she paused when her eyes settled on a man who didn’t look much like the others. He was tall, with brunette curls and green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He wore rings on his hands in every single picture and in one of them he wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a sleeve of tattoos. In most of his pictures he wore comfy sweaters and knitted cardigans with grey or black trousers. In one of them he wore a pair of blue jeans and had a small, battered copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket. 

She read his bio beneath. 

‘Harry, 30

Likes: scrabble, food, cats, books, cardigans

Dislikes: loud chewing, music played too low, emails, wearing sunglasses indoors at dinner is absolutely criminal’

She clicked the heart on his profile, eyes widening when the words ‘MATCH’ appeared on the screen in big bubble writing. He hadn’t sent her a message but clearly he had liked her own profile which was surprising considering she had barely anything on it. 

As she was mulling over what to say to start the conversation, three bubbles quickly appeared then disappeared, replaced by a message. She held her breath, reading the words. 

Harry: Hey, pretty dress

She frowned, wondering what he meant by that but then remembered she had a picture of her on her profile, showcasing one of her favourite dresses. It was a baby pink slip dress she had made out of silk fabric. 

Y/N: Thank you, I made it! :) 

Harry: You did? Wow! Looks better than most of the ones I’ve seen in my own store.

Y/N: Do you own a clothing store?

Harry: Something along those lines

Harry: Although they don’t sell pretty dresses like yours 

Y/N: They’re probably a lot better, I use cheap materials 

She cringed at her message, hoping she didn’t sound broke or not put together by saying she used something cheap.

Harry: I’m even more impressed

She smiled, watching him type a new message. 

Harry: What brings you here?

She tried to sum up how she was feeling without making herself seem like a weirdo. She didn’t want to sound like a recluse looking for human interaction no matter how much she felt like it. 

Y/N: I’m tired of everything, just want someone to keep me company 

Harry: I get that. Should I be worried? Are you okay? 

Her heart warmed, she couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her if she was okay. 

Y/N: I’m okay now, thank you for asking !! it’s just everyday life stuff.

Harry: Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about. I’m right here to listen… or read 

Y/N: thank you, that truly means a lot!! xx

Harry: No problem, love x

Y/N’s heart flickered at the name he had placed on the end. 

They texted for hours, well into the middle of the night. Y/N was giddy, rolling around on her bed, smiling so hard her cheeks ached. They had so much in common—both preferred quiet nights in, were family-oriented, loved literature and art and even fashion. He was funny and sweet, always checking in to make sure she was comfortable and that he wasn’t overstepping with his questions. Despite how much they had in common, they had a lot of differences too.

Y/N: Is it raining where you are? Xx

Harry: Hm, just checked outside and I think the clouds are coming over. I don’t mind though autumn happens to be my favourite season.

Y/N: omg really? 

Harry: What? You don’t agree?

Y/N: No omg are you kidding? I’m much more into spring. I like that it’s sunny with a slight breeze so it’s warm but not too warm so you can still wear a sweater

Harry: Ahhh I see, you do give spring I must say

Y/N: You think so?

Harry: Even from looking at your pictures, you look like a tulip or something. 

Harry: Or the little deer from that movie

Harry: What was it?

Harry: Bambi!

Harry: Maybe that should be your name - Bambi 

Y/N: That’s one of my favourite movies !! 

Y/N: I happened to think Bambi is a very pretty name 

Harry: Then I’ll call you Bambi 

Y/N: Well what should I call you?

Harry: Anything you like, Bambi 

. . . 

Y/N was working her shift at the supermarket. She was already entering her final hour, her stomach rumbling as she packed frozen pizzas onto the shelves. Although she had been working hard to get things done so she could go home on time, her mind was constantly wandering. 

It had been a full week of talking to Harry. They had converted to messaging on WhatsApp after exchanging numbers and every day Y/N would wake up to a morning text message from him telling her to have a good day and that he would be right there in her pocket if she ever needed anything. In the evenings, he would make sure she wasn’t going to sleep with anything heavy on her mind. He’d ask her questions about what she ate and if she had any time to herself in the day. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a little less lonely. She went about her day with a little pep in her step feeling the excitement of texting the man she had only just met. She didn’t know what it was about him but a part of her felt safe with him. Maybe it was the fact he was nine years older than her and knew what it was like to be under stress with so many things but he understood her in a way no one else did. 

And Bambi.

Every day, it was Bambi this and Bambi that, and every time, she’d swoon or smile at the nickname he had given her. It was silly, maybe even a little ridiculous, how much it affected her. But she couldn’t help it—every time he said it, a bubble of excitement grew inside her. She liked someone for the first time in a long time, and it brought something new, something light, into her overwhelming life.

After days of just simply texting, Y/N had asked him if he wanted to video call tonight. It would be her first time hearing what he sounded like and part of her was nervous. What if he came across differently from how he was over text? What if he didn’t look the way he did in the numerous pictures he had sent her? What if after calling tonight, he didn’t like her anymore?

Hours later, Y/N was tucked up in bed readying herself to call him. She had showered and blow-dried her hair, wearing her comfiest pink pyjamas with her body wrapped up in her duvet. Her thumb hovered over the call button, gnawing on her bottom lip as thoughts raced through her mind.

She gasped when Harry’s face appeared on her screen just seconds after she pressed call. It was their first time ever talking like this, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of him. He was sitting in a desk chair, a large framed artwork hanging on the wall behind him. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his tie loosened around the collar, and his curls fell lazily across his forehead. He looked so effortlessly handsome, it almost didn’t seem real.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking the stillness of her bedroom. It carried a warmth, soft and steady, like the glow of a campfire, and she felt herself melt under its gentle heat.

“H-Hi,” she squeaked, her cheeks immediately flushing with warmth. Her nerves bubbled up as she realized she was staring at him, trying to comprehend that this was actually happening. Surely she was dreaming, she pinched herself to make sure. 

Harry’s eyes softened when he heard her shaky greeting. “You alright?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, amused smile. His tone was gentle, almost teasing, but there was something deeper there—like he was studying her reaction and enjoying every second of it.

She nodded quickly, fumbling with the hem of her pyjama shirt. “I’m good! Just… surprised you answered so fast.” She giggled nervously, her voice high-pitched and sweet, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “I thought it’d take a few rings at least.” Her blush deepened as she tucked her knees up to her chest.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, making her heart flutter. “I was waiting for you to call,” he admitted, a soft smirk tugging at his lips. 

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shyly glanced up at him through her lashes. “Really?” she asked, her voice soft and a little disbelieving. 

He smiled, a slow, adoring smile that made her stomach flip. “Yeah, really. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His voice had that low, confident tone, but his gaze was gentle, like he wanted to make sure she knew he meant it. “The only thing getting me through work.”

“You’re still at work? It’s nine-thirty!” she exclaimed, glancing at the clock in disbelief.

Harry’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Is it past your bedtime, Bambi?” he teased, leaning back in his chair as he glanced at her through the screen.

Her heart stuttered hearing that nickname come from his own mouth. She felt like if the camera wasn’t on, she’d be floating around her room like a bright pink orb of light, “N-No,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “But shouldn’t you be going home by now? You’ve been working all day.”

He let out a small chuckle, shrugging as he glanced down at the papers scattered across his desk. “Got a lot to catch up on. Too many late nights spent talking to you.” His voice was warm, laced with affection despite his teasing.

Her heart sank for a moment, guilt creeping in. They’d been texting non-stop for weeks, and she hadn’t once thought about how it might be affecting his workload. He’d told her before that he worked for a clothing company, and it suddenly hit her how busy he must be.

Noticing the shift in her expression, Harry’s voice softened. “Y’thinking too much in that little head of yours?” he asked, cutting through her thoughts.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted quietly, biting her lip.

He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “You know I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, right? I love talking to you, Y/N. I think... I might even be a little obsessed with you,” he confessed, his smirk turning into a softer smile.

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, all she could do was stare at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “I-I think I’m obsessed with you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

“Yeah?” His voice was full of warmth, a hint of disbelief in it, like he hadn’t expected her to say it back. She nodded shyly, clutching her pillow tighter against her chest, her heart racing.

Harry huffed out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face to hide the wide grin that had taken over. “God, you’re even cuter than I imagined,” he murmured, his words full of adoration.

They talked for hours, diving into everything and anything that crossed their minds. It was the longest conversation they’d had since they started talking, and Y/N found herself more captivated by Harry than she thought was possible. The way he laughed, the way he listened—it all just pulled her in deeper.

In the middle of her sentence, she noticed Harry looking at her with an unusually soft expression, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. He suddenly spoke, cutting her off mid-thought. “Can I take you on a date?” His voice was gentle but firm, catching her completely off guard.

“O-Oh,” she stammered, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want to meet her so soon, but her heart leapt at the thought. “I’d like that,” she replied, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Very much.”

His own smile widened, a mix of relief and excitement in his eyes. “How about Saturday evening? I could pick you up.”

“But wouldn’t that be too long of a drive?” she asked, biting her lip. She knew he lived in the city, about forty minutes away without traffic, and she didn’t want to inconvenience him.

Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “It’s not too far at all. Trust me, I don’t mind,” he said confidently. “I’ll pick you up at 8, sound good?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, the idea of seeing him in person making her pulse race. She nodded shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mhm, that sounds perfect.”

Harry’s grin grew, his eyes twinkling, “Can you wear the pretty dress you made?”

Y/N blushed, “You don’t want me to wear something a little more sophisticated?” 

“Y’ can wear whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t mind but I think I’d like to see that little dress y’ made.” 

She nodded, stifling a yawn as it slipped out. It was getting late, and Harry was still at his office, working. “Y’tired, lovie?” His voice softened.

“A little,” she lied, knowing full well she was more than exhausted. But the thought of ending the call made her chest tighten—she wanted to keep him on the line, even just for a few more minutes.

Harry chuckled softly as if he could see right through her. “Why don’t you rest those pretty eyes for me, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, the gentle authority in his words making her entire body relax. She practically melted at the sound, her heart skipping a beat.

“M’kay,” she whispered, her eyelids already heavy as she let herself sink deeper into the comfort of his voice.

“I’ll be right here, alright?” he reassured her, his tone gentle and full of warmth.

She managed a soft smile, her words barely audible as her exhaustion overtook her. “Promise?”

“Promise Bambi,” he whispered, his voice the last thing she heard before sleep pulled her under.

. . .

“Mr. Styles?”

Harry looked up from his computer, peering over the rims of his glasses. His receptionist, Lindsey, stood in the doorway. “The samples for the newest collection have arrived. Would you like me to bring them in?” she asked, her voice polite but efficient, as always.

“Yes, please, Lindsey,” he replied with a sigh, signing off another email before hitting send. The endless stream of tasks had him feeling drained.

Though Harry wasn’t usually the type to show much warmth towards his employees, Lindsey was different. She’d been with him for years—long enough to earn not just his respect, but his trust. She was one of the very few people he relied on within his company. 

Harry was the CEO of Pleasing, a major fashion company he had built from the ground up. His first line had been designed in a small studio, crafted with his own hands and the help of a few close friends who still worked by his side. Now, it was a global brand. He was on Forbes 30 under 30 and had features in magazines like GQ. He was even in Time magazine for most influential people. 

Despite all the success, his day-to-day life had become an endless loop of emails, business meetings, and deadlines. Time for anything outside of work was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Lately, though, something, or rather someone, had started to make him reconsider how he spent his time.

He checked his phone once more having only picked it up a minute ago for the same reason. He hoped to see a message from Y/N, in fact he was eager to. Ever since he had messaged her on the only dating app he used, he hadn’t thought of anyone else but her. 

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, one born out of the loneliness that weighed heavier than ever that night. Harry sat in his dimly lit office, the silence around him almost suffocating. He hadn’t dated in over a year, not since his last relationship, which had ended on a bitter note. That girl had taken advantage of him, using his desire of the relationship he wanted to manipulate him. She had drained his bank accounts, maxed out his credit cards on shopping sprees and lavish holidays with her friends, leaving him both financially and emotionally exhausted. After that, he’d grown wary of trusting anyone.

When he joined the website, he wasn’t exactly hopeful. The chance of finding someone who truly understood his career and mirrored his desires in a relationship seemed slim.

But then he met his Bambi. 

He hadn’t been searching for anything specific that day, just scrolling aimlessly, but something about Y/N’s profile made him pause. There was a warmth to her, a genuine spark that went beyond her pictures. She didn’t seem to realise just how captivating she was, and that drew him in even more. It wasn’t just her beauty—though she was stunning—it was the way she spoke about the things she loved. Her messages were full of passion, filled with rambles about her favourite books, little moments in her day, or random thoughts that popped into her head. 

Y/N had ignited something within him. He was excited for this newfound thing they had going on, a spark he hadn’t felt in years. Every message from her left him smiling at his phone, wondering what she’d say next. It was the kind of excitement that made the day feel a little brighter, knowing she was just a text away. He found himself looking forward to the simplest things—her daily updates, the way she’d ramble about something she’d seen or read, and even the photo updates she’d send him of things she was doing.

For the first time in a long time, he found himself imagining what it would be like to share his life with someone, instead of the quiet solitude he’d grown so used to. He couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N being that person—the one to bring warmth into the corners of his once-lonely home. He pictured what it would be like to have someone in his space, their presence adding a new kind of lightness. Someone to be there in the small, everyday moments and to keep him company after a long day at the office. 

He couldn’t wait to meet her in real life, hold her in his hands and kiss the lips he spent nights dreaming about. 

Harry snapped out of his daze when Lindsey opened the door and the manufacturers entered the room behind her, holding the fabric samples in their hands. They greeted him timidly, laying the samples on the table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows. 

He walked over, black polished shoes clicking against the mahogany wood floor. He sighed when he took in the samples, he didn’t need to feel them to know they weren’t good enough. Uncapping the red pen, he drew a cross beside each sample, the men behind him releasing a shaky breath. 

“Come back when you have what I want,” He murmured, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. 

He checked the time on his watch and cursed. Today was his niece’s birthday and he promised his sister he’d visit in time for her birthday party this afternoon. “Lindsey,” He called, hearing her shoes against the floor before she opened the door to his office. 

He pulled on his blazer, “I’ve got to leave, did you wrap that gift I gave you the other day?” 

Lindsey frowned, “It’s under my desk but what about your meetings this afternoon?” 

“Cancel them.” He shrugged.

His Porsche was parked out front by the time he stepped out of the building. He put the gift into the passenger seat and made a mental note to stop somewhere to buy a birthday card. 

He glanced at his phone when a text came through.

Bambi: Half way through my shift. It’s been pretty rough, sorry for the late reply xx

His heart leapt when Y/N’s name appeared. He took his phone when he reached a red light and typed in a reply.

Harry: it’s okay lovie, call me when you finish yeah? x

He was desperate to speak to her even if it were just for a mere few seconds. 

Making a left turn, he pulled into the parking lot of a small supermarket on the highway. It looked run down and old but there wasn’t anywhere else he could go to before he reached his sister's house.

People sat outside, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of beer cans. He ignored the glances they made towards him and his car. 

He stepped inside and walked along the aisles, pausing when he noticed someone stacking things onto a shelf. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was wearing blue jeans and a fuzzy white sweater, her hair was braided and fastened with pink, silk bows. She wore wired earbuds, her pink ballerina flats tapping against the laminate flooring. 

She must have felt his gaze because her head lifted, eyes widening as they met his. Her soft, pink lips parted slightly, and in that instant, it was as if the world shifted—everything falling perfectly into place between them, as though they were always meant to find each other naturally. 

Harry hadn’t noticed the sugar spilling from the bag she was holding until the store manager stormed over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sharp tone made Y/N jump, her body snapping upright as she stood frozen in front of her manager, fear flashing across her face.

“I-I’m s-sorry, I—” Y/N stammered, her voice trembling.

“How many times do I have to hear the same excuse from you?” her manager snapped. “Stupid, useless girl, costing me the whole damn shop.”

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I-I know... I promised it wouldn’t happen again. It was an accident, really,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.

Harry’s frown deepened. Again? This had happened before?

From the way Y/N stood there, trying so hard not to cry, it was painfully clear—this wasn’t the first time her boss had spoken to her like this.

Harry’s jaw tightened as he watched the exchange, a surge of protectiveness rising in him. He had only known Y/N recently, but seeing her like this—small, vulnerable, and clearly hurt—stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.

“Excuse me,” Harry spoke up, his voice calm but firm, stepping closer. The store manager turned to him, annoyance flashing across his face.

“This doesn’t concern you,” the manager spat, his glare shifting to Harry.

“Actually, I think it does,” Harry replied, his eyes steady on the man. “You don’t need to speak to her like that.”

The manager scoffed. “And who the hell are you?”

Harry didn’t blink, his voice lowering. “Someone who knows when respect is lacking.”

Y/N looked up at Harry, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe he was stepping in. Her heart raced, a mix of relief and anxiety bubbling inside her. She wasn’t used to anyone standing up for her like this.

“Y/N, why don’t you take a minute?” Harry said softly, glancing over at her, his voice now gentle and reassuring. The tears in her eyes made his chest physically hurt. He’d be quick with this useless piece of shit so he could give her all his attention.

She hesitated but then nodded, her gaze flicking between Harry and her boss. She quickly turned, slipping away from the confrontation, her hands shaking as she tried to compose herself.

Harry turned back to the manager, his calm exterior masking the frustration brewing underneath. “Speak to her like that again, and I won’t hesitate to have this place torn down, brick by brick, and replaced with a building I own. Then you’ll know firsthand what it’s like to deal with a real fucking manager.” 

With that, he turned on his heel, already making a mental note to have his team look into this place. It was clearly lacking in more ways than one—enough to warrant being shut down for good he hoped. 

Y/N stood behind the building, her back to him, shoulders trembling as she cried into her sleeve. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured softly, stepping forward and gently pulling her into his chest. “Tha’s enough now, Bambi. Don’t waste your tears on him,” he whispered, his large hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Holding her close felt unexpectedly right, as if this was exactly where she belonged, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she sniffled, her voice small. “This isn’t how I wanted you to see me for the first time.”

His eyes softened with affection as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Carefully, he wiped her tear-stained, blotchy cheeks, his touch tender. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart,” he whispered, “S’alright now, y’ don’t have to go back in there.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling how soft and silky her hair was. He couldn’t seem to fathom that he was actually holding her after days of imagining what she would feel like.

She pulled away and for the first time Harry could get a proper look at her. He didn’t think it possible for her to be even more beautiful than the pictures he had of her on her phone but she was. Her features were soft, cheeks permanently pink like the colour of tulips on a spring day, her lips were the perfect shape, so delicate like two petals pressed together. She was a walking angel. 

“Hey stranger,” He grinned, those perfect cheeks turning pink. If Harry had one goal in his life it was to make her all flustery and blushy. 

“Hi,” She peeped, hands fiddling in front of her.

Her eyes widened when she saw the tear stains on his shirt, the damp spots revealing the tiniest hint of the tattoos on his torso. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” She cringed.

“Hey no need to apologise, ‘s not even ruined and I’d rather you were okay than some easily replaceable shirt.” He assured her. “Are y’ sure you’re okay? Don’t need to go in there and beat him up or anything,”

She smiled at that and the sight made his heart sing, “No it’s okay. I-I’m okay, thank you for looking out for me. I don’t normally have people doing that very often.”

He frowned. He didn’t like how often she spoke about how little help she got from other people. If anything, it made him want to take care of her even more than he already did. 

“I should probably head back in. I still have three more hours of my shift,” she huffed, clearly reluctant. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

Harry’s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. “You don’t have to,” he said, his gaze holding hers, protective and unwavering.

Y/N frowned, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “But I need the job, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I can’t just leave.”

His jaw tightened at her words. He hated seeing her stuck in a place that didn’t value her, where she wasn’t respected. “I know you need the job,” he replied, gentler now, trying to ease her worry. “But no job is worth being treated like that. Not by him.”

She bit her lip, glancing back at the store, anxiety clearly weighing on her. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t afford to lose it.”

Harry stepped closer, his hand finding its way to her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re not going to lose anything,” he said softly. “Let me take care of it. Of you.”

Y/N blinked up at him, her heart pounding. “Take care of me?”

“Come work with me,” He offered. 

There weren’t many positions available at Pleasing, but Harry didn’t care. He’d make something work—anything to keep her from going back into that place and dealing with the jerk inside.

“In the city? I... I can’t do that, Harry. I still have school, and my brothers...”

“You can work around it,” he said quickly, eager to find a solution. “I’ll pay for your gas to and from the city, or I’ll have someone drive you. Hell, I’ll drive you myself if it makes you feel better. Whatever you need. Just don’t stay here.”

He sighed softly, taking her small hand in his larger one, her warmth a comfort even as doubt flickered between them. “Just... think about it, yeah?” His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, trying to ease the tension.

Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

A grin spread across Harry’s face, his relief palpable. “Thank you Bambi.” He swore he saw her pupils carve into love hearts at his words. 

. . . 

Y/N hadn’t returned to her job at the store just as she promised Harry. It wasn’t only because Harry was insistent she didn’t go back but her manager had been pretty verbally abusive for quite some time now and she thought better than to go back and work for someone who was just plain mean. 

A few days had passed and Saturday rolled around quickly. Y/N was giddy with excitement, preparing everything in time for Harry to pick her up to take her on their very first date this evening. She had arranged a babysitter to look after her brothers since her mother wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t often they splurged cash on hiring a babysitter but Y/N wasn’t going to rearrange her date with Harry for anything.

She’d made a list of everything she needed to do: wash and blow dry her hair, shave every inch of her body, and paint her nails with the glazed pink polish she’d ordered online. Her hair was in curlers as she carefully laid out her outfit for the evening—a pink satin slip dress she’d made herself, paired with white kitten heels that matched perfectly. With the season shifting into autumn, she added a thin white cardigan to keep her warm in case the night turned chilly on the way home.

She wanted to look perfect. Especially after the fiasco the other day when he had rescued her from her mean manager. 

Everything seemed to move in slow motion the moment she laid eyes on the man from her phone. He was even more perfect than she had imagined—taller too. It still hadn’t sunk in that she was about to go on a date with this man—the one who wore a black suit to work and had saved her from cruel, terrifying managers.

And the way he spoke to her afterwards, comforting her with his big, heavy hands around her. She wanted him to pick her up and take her wherever he went. 

Y/N sighed blissfully in front of her vanity. As Y/N finished her makeup, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry. 

Harry: Just outside x

She peeked through the window, catching sight of him standing by a sleek black car, leaning casually against the door. He looked breathtaking in a fitted black suit, hands in his pockets as he scanned the street. Her nerves fluttered, a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbling up. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and grabbed her cardigan before heading out the door. 

The moment she stepped outside, Harry’s gaze snapped to her, dark and intense. He straightened up, eyes travelling over her form, taking in every detail of her appearance. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine.

“Y’ look stunning, Bambi,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. He took a step closer, his large hand cupping her cheek, thumb grazing her soft skin. “All this f’ me?”

Y/N blushed, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I-I wore the dress you wanted,” she mumbled shyly, looking up at him through her lashes, “Do you like it?” 

“‘S perfect,” He murmured lowly. 

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He opened the car door for her, watching as she slid into the passenger seat, her delicate form contrasting with the dark interior of his Porshe. Harry’s eyes lingered on her legs for a moment before he shut the door and walked around to his side.

Once inside, he reached over, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of his touch comforting her immediately. “You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her with a small smile, though the look in his eyes held a trace of dominance.

“A little,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft and shy.

Harry gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Y’ don’t have to be nervous around me, love, promise ‘m not scary. Least of all t’ you.” 

Y/N smiled, loving how he made it clear she was different, that he treated her in a way no one else could. It warmed her to feel special, especially when that feeling was rare for her.

As they drove, their conversation flowed easily. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, rambling about anything that came to mind. Harry listened intently, his smile soft as he asked questions, showing genuine interest in everything she said. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car, and each time she answered bashfully, his lips curved. 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as they drove deeper into the city. The lights grew brighter, illuminating a part of town she rarely found herself in—where the wealthy lived, with towering apartment complexes and upscale restaurants lining the streets. Harry pulled over in front of a sleek Italian restaurant, where a man stood waiting by the curb.

“Are we allowed to park here?” Y/N asked, her face bathed in the glow of the restaurant’s lights.

Harry suppressed a grin at her confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I just assumed we weren’t eating here, which is totally fine! You don’t need to impress me with a fancy restaurant.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she tried to clarify.

Harry’s lips curled into a teasing smirk. “What if I told you we are eating here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A-are we?”

Without answering, Harry reached for her hand, brushing his lips over the back of it. “Y’ too cute,” he murmured. “Come on, they’re waiting for us.” He stepped out of the car, passing his keys to the valet standing nearby, before adjusting his blazer and moving to open the door for her, his hand stretched out toward her for her to grab onto. 

Y/N hesitated, her mind reeling. There was no way they were eating at this restaurant—the kind with a year-long reservation list and three Michelin stars. She’d heard rumours that a single course here could cost more than her entire paycheck for the week. But as she took his hand and stepped out, it felt impossible to believe this was really happening.

Harry intertwined their fingers, offering a brief nod to the waiter who opened the door for them. “Harry… are you sure? They probably don’t have any tables for people just walking in,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, love. I made some arrangements.”

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Arrangements? How?”

Stopping at the ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’ sign, Harry finally turned to her with a playful twinkle in his eye. “I own the restaurant.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open as a waiter approached, menus tucked neatly under his arm. “Good evening, Mr. Styles. Your table is ready.”

Feeling like she was in a dream, Y/N walked hand-in-hand with Harry to a private table near the large glass windows at the back. The breathtaking view of the city’s skyline stretched out before them, and the table, set for two, was tucked away to offer them some privacy. 

As they were seated, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the quiet stares and murmurs from other guests. She knew Harry owned a clothing business, but… just how successful was he?

The waiter laid the menus out in front of them and left them to decide what they wanted to order. Y/N hadn’t even noticed as her wide eyes gazed around the room at the glowing chandeliers. 

Harry reached for her hand beneath the table, “Are y’ okay love?” He asked. Y/N’s gaze snapped towards him, “I hope ‘s not too much.”

“H-Harry, I really appreciate you bringing me here, I mean even stepping inside is a dream come true, but… I c-can’t afford this.” She felt awful saying it but it was true and it was better to tell him now than when she’d finished her meal, she wouldn’t want him thinking she was out for his money.

Harry frowned, “Bambi, this is a date. Y’ don’t have to pay for anything.”

“B-but I can’t use your money.” She told him. 

She couldn’t hear it but Harry’s heart was singing in his chest. She was exactly what he was looking for someone totally opposite to all the women he had dated in his past. 

He cupped her cheek in his hand, “Look at me Y/N,” Big, doe eyes gazed into his, “Please stop worrying and let me take care of you. I know y’ haven’t been given that in the past but ‘m here now and I want this. I wanted to bring y’ here and I want y’ to be spoiled and I want to treat you in the way you deserve. So can you pick something from the menu and let me look after you Bambi baby, please? Think you can do that?”

Her lips parted, slowly nodding her head but she quickly said one last thing, “You don’t have to take me to fancy places to make me feel spoiled Harry. I already feel spoiled enough just getting to be with you.”

He smiled, eyes glistening under the low light of the chandelier. He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed as a small thank you. “Have you decided what you’re going to eat?”

"Hmmm," Harry grinned, watching Y/N's pouted lips as she studied the menu with intense concentration. "I can't decide between the truffle pasta or the smoked salmon!" she huffed, clearly torn.

"How about this," he offered with a shrug, "I’ll get the smoked salmon, you get the truffle pasta, and we can share? That way you can try both."

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t want something else?”

He had been planning on ordering the steak and potatoes, but seeing how much this small decision seemed to weigh on her, he didn’t mind changing his mind. The smoked salmon was one of his favourite dishes anyway.

When the waiter came over, Harry confidently placed the order for both of them, which made Y/N visibly relax. She hated the pressure of ordering her own food, so the simple act of him taking charge made her feel instantly at ease.

“We’ll make sure to have your order as a priority, Mr. Styles,” the waiter nodded respectfully before walking away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. They must really like you here.”

Harry chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t I mention I owned a clothing business?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, “But I thought it was just a boutique or something.” She shrugged, clearly unaware of the scale.

Harry laughed a warm, deep sound that made her stomach flip. “Bambi,” he said, pulling her gently into his side until their cheeks were almost touching, “See that guy’s sweater? That woman’s hat? And that lady’s dress over there?” She nodded everytime he pointed towards them, her heart skipping a beat at their closeness. “We made all of those.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “W-wait, you own Pleasing?”

Harry nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/N couldn’t even count how many times she had opened the Pleasing website, scrolling through pages of clothes she desperately wanted but couldn’t afford. And now, she was sitting across from its owner—no, she was on a date with him.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling away slightly to gauge her reaction. "Which reminds me, have you given any more thought to the job?"

She had, actually. The idea had been rolling around in her mind ever since he’d mentioned it. "What's the role again?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"My assistant," Harry replied smoothly. "You’d help with emails, scheduling meetings, running errands—nothing too complicated. Just being my right hand.”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward, though? Since we’re, y’know... dating?”

Harry smirked, catching the implication. "So, there’s going to be a second date?" His teasing tone made her blush. “And if anything, it makes it better. I’d get to see you every day instead of just texting."

“But what about school?” Y/N asked, trying to think practically.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said easily. “Whatever you need. We can make it work.”

“Shouldn’t there be an interview or something?” she quipped, trying to lighten the moment, though her heart was racing.

Harry sighed dramatically, playing along. “Alright. Hello, Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to your official interview for the position of Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

Y/N giggled, her nerves easing as she followed his lead. “Well, hello Mr. Styles. Thank you for having me.”

Harry’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes twinkling as he played along. “First question,” he said, leaning closer, their faces now just inches apart. “How do you feel about spending every day with me? Answer carefully—it’s a tough one.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Well, Mr. Styles, I think I could manage that.”

“Good answer,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “Next question: Can you handle a man who’s very particular about his coffee?”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion. “Are we talking normal particular, or... like, twelve-steps-to-make-a-single-cup particular?”

Harry chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Maybe somewhere in between. But don’t worry, I can teach you.”

Y/N laughed softly, her nerves easing even more. Being around him was easy, natural—like slipping into something familiar and warm. “I think I could handle that.”

"One last question," Harry murmured, leaning in even closer. His gaze flickered to her lips for a brief second before locking back onto her eyes. "How do you feel about sneaking around with your boss?"

Her laughter died down, a trace of seriousness replacing it. She knew the risks—things had to stay professional, no hint of their relationship could slip through especially since Harry would not only be her boss but was the Senior Director and had to have the respect of everyone.  But still, she couldn’t resist.

“I think it could be fun,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Good,” He murmured, “I think you’ve passed the test, Bambi,” Y/N noticed how close his lips were to hers, if she moved her face forward they’d be touching, “Any questions?”

. . . 

Harry pulled the car up to the curb just outside Y/N’s house, the gentle hum of the engine fading as he switched it off. The street was quiet, the only light coming from the street lamps casting long shadows on the pavement. Inside her house, the windows were dark, and she silently hoped her brothers were already asleep, sparing her the awkwardness of explaining why she wasn’t rushing inside.

The silence between them felt comfortable yet charged, neither making a move to leave. It was as if both of them knew the night shouldn’t end yet, even though it had to at some point. Y/N looked down at her hands, nervously tracing the edge of her coat, stealing glances at Harry every few moments. He seemed deep in thought, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, but the same hesitation hung in the air between them.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He turned to her, his expression soft but intent, as if weighing every word. “Don’t need t’ thank me Bambi,” he replied, his eyes lingering on her face a moment longer than necessary. 

“I wish I didn’t have to go home,” She huffed, looking down at her fingers on her lap.

Harry’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, turning his body slightly toward her. “Y’ want to go back to mine?”

She wanted nothing more, the pain of saying no physically paining her, “M-my brothers... they have school,” she murmured.

“S okay,” He smiled. 

The air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings, and she could feel her heart race as the weight of his gaze settled on her. He reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft.

“Bambi,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly more intimate, like he was laying something important on the table.

She turned to face him fully, her breath catching as his fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race. The space between them seemed to vanish, and suddenly, all she could think about was the way his lips would feel against hers.

Neither of them spoke. The tension that had been simmering all evening finally boiled over. Harry’s hand cupped her cheek, and in that quiet moment under the dim streetlights, he leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But as soon as their lips touched, a wave of emotion flooded over her, and she couldn’t help but respond. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, slow and lingering. It wasn’t rushed or hurried—just soft, warm, and full of everything Y/N had been dreaming about for longer than she cared to admit. 

When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, both of them catching their breath, their lips still tingling from the kiss. His hand lingered on her cheek, as though neither of them was ready to let the moment slip away just yet.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, maybe to break the silence or make a joke about how long they’d waited for this. But before she could speak, a loud thud startled her. She turned her head, eyes widening as the lights in her house flickered on. And there they were—her brothers, pressed against the living room window, grinning like fools and making exaggerated kissy faces at them.

“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, mortified. Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she fumbled with her seatbelt. "This is so embarrassing."

She pushed the door open and scrambled out of her seat, grabbing her purse in a flurry of panic. “I am so sorry, Harry. I-I have to go,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush as she awkwardly tried to regain her composure. “Thank you for dinner, a-and the kiss! Oh, and the job too!”

In her haste, her heel caught on a paving stone, and she stumbled slightly, her purse nearly slipping from her hand as she made her way toward the front door.

Harry watched her, his mouth half open, caught between amusement and disbelief. She was flustered, rambling, and absolutely adorable. He couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped him as he leaned back in his seat, shaking his head.

"Bambi!" he called out the car window, grinning. “I'll take that as a yes on the job?”

Y/N turned back briefly, her face flushed but her smile shy and genuine. “Yes! Definitely yes!” she called over her shoulder, before hurrying inside, her brothers still laughing from the window.

As she disappeared through the door, Harry chuckled to himself, the warmth from their kiss still lingering. He turned the ignition on, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had unfolded. It was far from the graceful goodbye he had imagined, but somehow, it felt perfect. He couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled away from the curb. 

Yeah, he thought to himself, that definitely meant she was taking the job.

[bunny-1111]

hii i kind of recently stumbled into your account and i absolutely fell in love!! i love your writing and your theme 🤍 i was wondering if you could make one with theo where he's academic rivals with y/n but one day he pushes y/n a bit too far and it ends in him comforting/"babying" her? u can make them end up together or not its up to you! thank you in advanced ml

Thank you babyyyyyy <3 I appreciate you sm, I hope you enjoy

Word Count: 3.8k

Unedited and not reread

Reblogs comment and like appropriated my darlings

...

The flicker of candlelight and the soft shuffling of enchanted books were the only sounds in the nearly deserted library. You blinked, the strain in your eyes a reminder of the four long hours you had spent hunched over your notes. Stretching your arms above your head, you allowed your gaze to wander, taking in the rows of shelves and the dim ambience. The stillness of the evening should have been calming, but it wasn’t. Not when your eyes finally landed on him.

Theodore Nott was already staring at you, his dark eyes gleaming with that infuriating smirk, a silent taunt written all over his face. He didn’t even have to say a word to get under your skin; just being there, watching you, was enough.

You sighed, refusing to break the stare as he approached, his steps deliberate, elbows resting on the edge of your cluttered table without so much as a word. You weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of speaking first. If he wanted to start this, he could be the one to open his mouth.

“Struggling again, I see,” his voice finally cut through the quiet, dripping with arrogance as he nodded towards your scattered textbooks.

“I’m succeeding, not struggling, Nott,” you snapped, your gaze flicking back to your notes. The exhaustion gnawing at you was starting to wear thin, but you wouldn’t let him see it. “Maybe if you spent less time bothering me, you’d be worried about keeping up.”

Theo chuckled, stepping around the table, his presence closing in behind you. You could feel him hovering, leaning just close enough that the heat of his gaze bore into your back. “I’ll be waiting at the top while you catch up,” he murmured.

Your jaw clenched, teeth grinding together as you buried yourself further into your notes. You knew his game well by now—pushing, teasing, always trying to be one step ahead. He lived for it, as did you but lately, you were starting to feel like it was wearing you down.

“Wrong year,” his finger dropped onto your page, tapping on one of your scribbled notes. “It was 1783, not 1781. Get that wrong, and you can kiss ten marks goodbye. There’s so much for you to learn, I'll tutor you. You clearly need the extra help. How about we start with the Declaration of mer-kind Independence” he teases slowly

“I’m fine,” you say hiss, pulse-quickening in irritation. He picks up a stray book you had abandoned over an hour ago

He chuckles, a low sound that sets your nerves on edge. “Come on, don’t be like that. I’m just offering to help.” he studies the back of the book cover in his hands, whipping your head around, snatching the book back off him.

“Don’t touch what’s not yours, Theodore, and you're wrong, it's not mer-kind, it’s merpeople. Misuse the term, and you can say goodbye to 10 marks” You smile, using his own words against him.

He only grinned wider; he loved it when you played this game. “You’ll be back here tomorrow?” he asked like it was already decided.

“Mhm,” you hummed, gathering your things. “Nowhere better.” You didn’t bother with a goodbye, letting your words linger in the air as you made your exit.

The next day, as promised, you returned. Same seat. Same workload. But this time, the weight of it all pressed harder against your temples, exhaustion gnawing at you, threatening to topple the carefully built walls of concentration you had managed to put up. Don’t let him get to you, you reminded yourself; three weeks of non-stop studying couldn't be for nothing. But even as you focused on the page in front of you, you didn’t have to look up to know Theo had arrived.

“You’re going to burn a hole through that parchment if you keep glaring at it like that,” his voice cuts through your thoughts.

Your grip tightens around your quill, ignoring him completely, even as your cheeks flush with irritation.

“Come on, don’t ignore me,” he adds, that familiar teasing lilt in his voice. “You’re gonna give me a complex.”

You finally glance up, the smirk on his face testing your patience. Theo, as usual, drops into the seat across from you, uninvited. His dark eyes glint with amusement—he’s fully aware of what he’s doing. He always knows how to push your buttons.

"Don’t you have your own table?" you mutter, eyes flicking back to your notes.

"This one’s got a better view." His gaze is fixed pointedly on you.

You roll your eyes, irritation bubbling up. "If you’re here to distract me, save it. I’m focusing."

"Oh, I’m sure you are." His tone is light and teasing, but there’s always that edge to it. "But no matter how hard you try, you’re not going to beat me on this test tomorrow."

His words hit harder than they should. You grit your teeth, trying to keep your expression neutral. The weight of the upcoming test, the sleepless nights, the constant competition with Theo—it’s all piling on, suffocating you.

"I don’t have time for your games, Theo," you snap, your voice sharper than you intended.

He raises an eyebrow, not even flinching. "Games? I thought you enjoyed our little rivalry. Keeps things interesting, doesn’t it?" He leans over, slamming your book shut without warning.

You slam your hand over the book, eyes wide with frustration. "Don’t touch my stuff! Just… go find your own table!"

Theo doesn’t respond immediately, but the smirk falters. He gathers his things with more force than necessary, walking to the next table. But he doesn’t stop there, not entirely. "Yeah, well, don’t stop studying now," he throws over his shoulder. "Wouldn’t want a repeat of last year’s essay, would we?"

That comment—it hits differently this time. You’ve barely slept, barely eaten, and the pressure is crushing you. The final thread of patience snaps inside of you.

"Why do you always do this?!" Your voice echoes in the library as you stand abruptly, the chair scraping harshly against the floor. Several students glance your way, but you don’t care. "Every time, Theo. You can’t leave me alone for five minutes!"

Theo looks taken aback, clearly not expecting the outburst. He recovers quickly though, that smug mask returning. "Because I know you can handle it. It’s called motivation."

"Motivation?" you scoff, barely believing your ears.

You let out a bitter laugh, shoving your books into your bag with a force that surprises even you. “You know what? I’m done. Done with you and your constant need to prove you’re better than me. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Fucking pathetic ”

The scrape of your chair against the floor is loud, cutting through the silence of the library as nearby students glance up. Theo’s smile dropped, his expression shifting as he watched you storm off, you didn’t wait for him to respond. When you finally reach the astronomy tower, the cold night air hits your face the moment you step outside, but it does nothing to cool the simmering anger burning inside you. Leaning against the stone wall of the courtyard, you try to steady your breath, but your chest heaves with frustration. Why does he always have to push so hard? Why can’t he just—

“Hey.”

The sound of his voice makes you tense. You don’t look up.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, your voice sharper than you intended.

“looking for you,” he says, stopping a few feet away, his tone uncharacteristically soft. “You left in a bit of a hurry.”

“Yeah. Intentionally,” you mutter, eyes fixed on the ground.

Theo moves closer, a sigh escaping his lips. “I don’t like seeing you react like that.”

You scoff, pushing off the wall to face him. “Maybe if you didn’t constantly push me to my breaking point, I wouldn’t. I can’t keep up with your games anymore. I’m not eating, I’m not sleeping—it’s messing with my head. Why do you insist on this bullshit?”

He finally speaks. “I push you because you’re the only one who can keep up and what the fuck do you mean not eating, not sleeping”

The words catch you off guard, and you blink, trying to process what he just said. For years, you thought the rivalry was all about him proving he was better, about him enjoying getting under your skin. But this—this feels different. More personal.

“I don’t understand,” you manage to say, your voice quiet.

Theo takes a step closer, his dark eyes searching yours. “I push you because I like spending time with you. You get so focused, so intense, and it drives me crazy in the best way. When you make that face when you're really focused; you have a certain smile when you get a higher grade than me, too” His voice is low, careful, and it makes your heart pound you turn to leave, to catch up with your beating heart in private, when he grabs your wrist, pulling your right back 

Before either of you can say another word, footsteps echo from the stone steps behind you. The unmistakable voices of Pansy and Enzo interrupt the fragile moment.

“Honestly, if Theo’s up here sulking again, I’m hexing him,” Pansy’s voice echoes up the stairs, cutting through the silence, laced with her typical blend of annoyance and affection. “I don’t have the energy for his brooding tonight.”

Before you can even think to pull away, Theos arm relaxes on yours, still tight enough to keep you in place, gentle enough for you to not want to let go, The moment between you and Theo hangs in the air, fragile and unfinished.

“Wow,” is what automatically splits out of your best friend's witty tongue, looking between the two of you. “Well, well, well, what have we here?” Pansy smirks, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the two of you standing so close. “Did I interrupt some kind of lovers' spat turned romantic reconciliation?”

Enzo leans against the doorway, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Looks like Theo’s finally stopped acting like a total git,” he says with a chuckle. “About time.”

Heat rushes to your face, and you try to pull away, but Theo doesn’t let you go, his arm still firmly wrapped around your waist. “It’s not—” you start, but Pansy’s smirk only deepens.

“Please, spare me,” she says, waving a hand dramatically. “I’ve been watching this slow burn for years. You can drop the act now.”

Enzo smirks, clearly enjoying Theo’s discomfort. “Who knew Theo had a soft side?”

Theo groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Can you two not?”

Pansy crosses her arms, the grin never leaving her face. “Oh, please. Don’t stop on our account. I’m dying to see how this academic rivalry plays out when you two finally, you know, release your tension.” She winks.

You can’t help the small laugh that escapes, “It’s not what it looks like,” you mumble, saving your almost-exposed smile

“You two have been going at it for so long, it was bound to end in a hug or a duel. Looks like you chose the softer option.” Smiles Enzo

You bite back a laugh, “Well, it hasn’t ended in bloodshed… yet” you joke, glancing up at him.

Pansy leans against the wall, still smirking. “So, what’s the plan now? Are you two going to keep pretending you hate each other or finally admit there’s something more going on?”

Theo shakes his head, looking amused despite himself. “You’re unbelievable, Pansy.”

Pansy just grins wider. “Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

You glare at her, but there’s no real bite behind it. It’s Pansy, after all, and if anyone was going to notice the tension between you and Theo, it was going to be her. Still, your cheeks burn as she watches you both with that insufferable smirk of hers.

Theo sighs beside you, “Merlin, Pansy, can you not?”

“Oh, don’t be so sensitive,” Pansy teases, crossing her arms. “I’m just saying, if you’ve finally decided to stop terrorising each other, the least you can do is admit it.

Enzo, clearly enjoying Theo’s misery, pats him on the back. “Don’t worry, mate. We’re rooting for you me and Draco have a bet of 5 galleons again Blaise that you two get together before end of school year.”

“Get the fuck out of here, both of you,” Theo growls, but his eyes flick to you as he says it. His tone, the one that’s usually directed at you, is now used for your defense. And you don’t miss the way his gaze softens as Pansy and Enzo finally turn to leave, You roll your eyes, though the tension in your chest loosens slightly. “This isn’t some grand confession,” you mutter, glancing up at Theo. “Right?”

Theo smirks down at you, the usual arrogance gone, replaced with something softer. “Right,” he agrees, though the hand still resting on your waist suggests otherwise. 

Pansy snorts. “not in love with each other, my ass. You two have been circling each other like animals for years, and now look at you, all cosy.”

With that, you finally step back from Theo, he didn’t fight you dropping your hand, crossing your arms over your chest. “We’re fine, Pansy. It’s not a big deal.”

“Uh-huh,” she says, clearly not believing a word. “Whatever you say, you’re my best friend if you think I’m going to let this slide without some serious teasing later, you’re delusional.”

you roll your eyes. “Why don’t you go find something else to meddle in, Pans?” Theo lets out before you have the chance to reply. Unbeknownst to you he is desperately wanting for you two to be alone again

Pansy grins wickedly. “Oh, I fully intend to. But don’t think for a second I’m letting this go. I’ll need a full report on how we got here.”

Enzo nudges her, clearly ready to leave you two alone. “Come on, Pans. Let them breathe.”

Pansy gives you both one last pointed look before finally turning to follow Enzo out. “I’ll be waiting for details,” she calls over her shoulder, her voice sing-song and full of mischief.

The door swings shut behind them, and the quiet returns. You glance up at Theo, unsure whether to laugh or cringe at Pansy’s dramatics.

Once they’re gone, the space feels quieter. Lighter. Theo shifts beside you, and for the first time, the tension between you two doesn’t feel like it’s pulling you apart.

“So” Theo starts hesitantly. “Do you still think I’m just trying to one-up you?”

You shrug, avoiding his eyes. “I don’t know what to think anymore,” you admit softly.

He steps closer, his usual bravado slipping away, replaced by something more vulnerable. “Then let me tell you.” His hand moves, and before you can react, his fingers gently cup your cheek. The warmth of his palm against your skin makes your breath catch. “You’re a bright witch. Brighter than anyone I know. I can see you’re tired of this game… but you’re not tired of me.”

The weight of his words settles over you, and for the first time, it feels like the competition has faded into the background, leaving something real in its place. Something different.

“Okay,” you whisper, your voice steadier than you expected.

Theo’s about to smile when you pull away, breaking the moment. “I have to go. There’s that test tomorrow, and I want a good night’s sleep.”

“Mhm,” he nods, though his eyes linger on you, like he’s not ready to let the moment end.

You manage a small smile. “Still have to try and beat you, Nott.”

But he doesn’t laugh this time. There’s something more behind his eyes, something deeper, and for the first time, you wonder if maybe you’ve been playing the wrong game all along, he’s wondering the same thing.

You have an overwhelming feeling that if you stay alone with him any longer you’re going to do something without thought, or that he might bet you to it, your mind was a mess, you turn saying nothing more, not even a goodnight, racing with your own legs to catch up to Pansy. 

The test comes and goes, and you walk out of the classroom with your head hanging low. You feel miserable, you aren't confident in your work, and you are terrified it will reflect on your grade. 

On top of that you’ve made it your mission to avoid Theodore like the plague. How could you two even communicate without the teasing, without the constant back-and-forth, without unnerving everyone else around you? You have no idea, and you’re not about to figure it out anytime soon, it brought on a new set of frustration, a new set of nerves, it was almost worse than before. 

As you sit, wanting to sink into your seat, waiting for your result, you feel a tremble threaten to spill out of your lips. You’re haze broken by a soft nudge that sways your body, looking over to see Theodore; with a sigh, you set your eyes straight ahead; you can't afford to become distracted now. You can’t take much more uncertainty. 

You take a shaky breath as the parchment lands before you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at it. You already know. The sinking feeling in your gut says it all.

You failed.

Your hands shake as you stare down at it, that big, ugly number glaring back at you. Not just a bad grade—an actual, undeniable failure. The first one you’ve ever had. And it crushes you. The pressure to keep up, to stay on top of everything, to keep pace with him.

You brace yourself, waiting for the inevitable jab, you felt things changing between you both, but you still expected a small dose of sarcasm.

But it doesn’t come.

Theo is quiet. Too quiet. You chance a glance over, expecting his usual cocky grin, but what you find is... different. His expression is unreadable, brows furrowed as he watches you. There’s no teasing. No smugness. Just... concern.

“You okay?” His voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it, careful, like he’s testing unfamiliar waters.

You blink, startled by the gentleness. “Fine,” you mutter, though it sounds weak even to your own ears.

He doesn’t believe you. He leans in a little closer, eyes narrowing as if he’s studying you, really looking at you, “dismissed” you hear your professor say above the noise of the classroom chatter.

You waste no time leaving class. You rub your eyes as you make your way down the hall, straight down to your common room.

You felt sad, disheartened, unaccomplished; you hadn't even noticed Theodore light jog to join you by your side, so unfocused that you kept walking when he called you to stop, he had to place his hands on your shoulders, his knuckles lifting your chin to force you to face him. 

So there you stood, eyes meeting his and here is comes, the waterworks, unintentionally falling down your face.

You had no idea how Theo would react, Merlin, you didn’t want this to be happening but, it was, you couldn’t stop if you tried. 

He wastes no time in pulling you into his chest. “Come on,” he mutters, rubbing your shoulder with his thumb, leading you both to the nearby couch in the empty common room. 

When you finally have enough courage to look back up, you almost cry again when you lock eyes with the softness of Theo’s, never experiencing the affectionateness of each other.

“I failed” you choke out, muffled into his chest, he pulls you out to face him immediately “No. You didn’t,” he says as surprised as you are 

“I did” you cry harder, forcing yourself back into his chest, his hands now find their way into your hair 

“This is my fault, I pushed you too hard, for too long, I’m sorry, alright, I’m sorry” he rambles 

"You don’t have to apologise," you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "I should’ve taken better care of myself."

Theo’s gaze snapped back to you, intense and unwavering.  Both of his hands on each side of your face. "No," he said firmly, his jaw tightening. “I am sorry” he repeated

You looked down, your heart pounding in your chest. It felt surreal—this conversation, this moment. The Theo you knew, the Theo who pushed you to your limits and didn't feel sorry, you who would push him unapologetically, that Theo wouldn’t be saying these things, that you wouldn’t be feeling these things. But here he was, raw and real in front of you, admitting that he’d been wrong, and here you were, scared if you looked into his eyes for a second longer, you’d reveal how you felt before you could even come to terms with it.

"I don’t know what to say," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Theo leaned in a little closer, his lips brushing a soft kiss onto your forehead ever so lightly, the touch sent a shiver down your spine, you didn’t pull away. "You don’t have to say anything right now," he said softly, his voice warm. "Just… think about it. We can do this together. No more pushing, no more competition—just you and me, figuring it out."

Your heart stuttered at the way he said you and me like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like it had always been there, hidden beneath the layers of rivalry and tension that had built up over the years.

You took a deep breath, letting his words sink in. You weren’t sure what this meant—what it would mean for the two of you going forward—but for the first time in a long while, you felt like you weren’t drowning under the pressure. Theo was offering something you never thought you’d get from him. 

You let out a confused huff, laced with exhaustion, comfort, happiness, sadness, all of it in one sigh. Theo pulls you into a deep hug again, kissing your head over and over, when you finally pull away, you almost whispered "can I-" your lips hovering so close in front of his, "yes" he practically spoke into your mouth as your lips collide, sinking into each other until a sudden gasp makes you both break away and look over

“I fucking TOLD you, Enzo!” Pansy yells out, mouth agape, pointing at the two of you. At the same time, Blaises hands Draco his galleons. Apparently, everyone knew this was coming but the two of you. 

i dont know how to feel about this fic tbh. Not my favourite piece of writing, I'm honestly kinda disappointed in this one, I've been working so much I think I'm burnt out... ughhhh anyway love y'all. ANON I hope this is sort of what you had in mind... its almost 3:30 am so IM INSECURE about posting this alright IDKKKK HELP hxweomhfsou,nzw

[toiletclown]

breathless. (part three.)

spencer agnew x gn!reader

there is angst in this part !!!

summary: you and spencer have an absolute blast doing the livestream, but then you open your mouth. oh no.

word count: 3286

✧˖°.⁺‧˚ ♡ ˚‧⁺ ✧˖°.

You had two days until the livestream, which means you and Ang would be conspiring nonstop for the next 48-or-so hours. That FaceTime call lasted much longer than necessary, and when you both came into the office today you were both clearly exhausted. But that’s okay, because you were not only going to get your friend back, but hopefully gain a partner in the process.

“Jeez, Peach, you’re looking rough today.” Spencer greeted you in the kitchen, and you immediately glanced up and around to make sure no one else was in the kitchen to hear that. Just last night you were wishing he would call you Peach at work, but now it felt… strange. To actually have it happen. That must have been Angela’s doing.

“Yeah, I was up pretty late. I think I finally went to sleep around four just to turn around and wake up at eight. Plus, I was tossing and turning all night, so the sleep I did get wasn’t even restful.” You put a small amount of concealer on because your eyebags were so dark today, and it was still shoot week. Next week it wouldn’t matter all that much because you’d be in your pod locking in on other things, but since you still have three days of shooting to be done, you had to at least try and cover it up. You usually didn’t venture into the comments for your own mental, but you knew if you didn’t put something over them, someone would inevitably comment ‘wow y/n looks like shit today’. And of course, that would be the one comment out of all of them that you would end up seeing.

Spencer rubbed your upper arm lightly, offering more comfort than you expected from him as of late. It was nice. You let a smile spill across your face, but broke eye contact to stare at your shoes. 

“You want one of my Kickstarts? I know they make your stomach upset but maybe the energy might help?” He held an unopened can out to you, and you took it. He was right, you usually had a stomach ache after drinking a Kickstart, but you felt so dead it just might be worth it.

You popped the tab and took a sip, thanking him for his generosity. Angela had definitely talked to him more in depth than she let on, meaning she definitely knew more than she let on. So now you had to worry if she was conspiring with him as well. Not that she would do anything to sabotage you behind your back, but what if she coaxed both of you into a silly plan that will end up falling through?

//

The two shoot days before the livestream were both pretty much the same as always. You and Angela stayed up well into the night hatching a plan, Spencer let you drink his Kickstart and brought you coffee and Red Bull Thursday morning, the day of the stream. You picked up your energy for the shoots, and did your best to keep up with conversations and plans off-camera as well. Spencer was back to his usual physically affectionate self, and he had no trouble saying ‘I love you’ back when you said it first, if you said it first. Whatever Angela was doing behind the scenes on his side was working, because it almost felt like you didn’t need to do some big thing on the stream now. You had what you wanted: your best friend back. Sure, you want more than that, and as far as you knew, so did Spencer. But why introduce the potential of a severe falling out when this was working just fine? You’d been best friends with Spencer for nearly eight years now, that was all you had ever known. Friendship. Was it worth the possibility of losing all of this? Just to—what, gain a different label?

You said as much to Angela while you two were eating. The kitchen and eating area were fairly empty while everyone was setting up for the stream. Spencer, luckily, was needed on set so you knew he wasn’t around to hear you wax poetic about him. Again. As you seemed entirely incapable of doing anything else, lately.

“I don’t know, I’m just starting to wonder if it’s all worth it. Like, sure, I gain the new label of ‘partner,’ but what else is going to change? We already act like a couple anyway, according to you and Erin.”

Angela put her hand on your shoulder and looked into your eyes, piercing through to your very soul. “Y/N, I’m going to hold your hand when I say this, but you don’t just gain the label. You gain all the benefits and happiness of a relationship and you also don’t have to keep hurting yourself. You want to be with Spencer, and he wants to be with you. Instead of not allowing yourself that happiness, and pushing it down constantly to try and come off as ‘normal’, you can just be normal. Also, as far as I know, you and Spence haven’t kissed or gone on any dates and I do believe that’s a perk that comes with dating someone. Especially someone who already knows everything about you. Instead of you two having to tread the murky beginnings of a relationship, you can hop right into it because you both already know so much about each other. Sure it might not feel entirely different at first, but imagine how relieved you’ll be when you don’t have to stop yourself from complimenting him, or staring at him, or blushing whenever he so much as breathes in your direction.” Angela pushed her food around on her plate, pondering if she should keep talking. She was working hard to make this happen, because she loved you both and knew you both deserved to be happy with each other. But Y/N was stubborn, and Spencer was just… hard-headed sometimes.

You held your breath for a moment, letting her words sink in again. Angela wasn’t always so verbose but when she was, it was serious, and you had to really listen. And, of course, she was right. You keep hurting yourself by pushing these feelings away, and you know that they’re reciprocated, so why keep pushing? “You’re right, as always.” You beamed at your best friend, feeling hopeful that this would work.

You knew the stream was set to be starting in about thirty minutes, so you stood up to throw your trash away and get ready. But before you could walk away, Angela grabbed your wrist. “Just so you know, and you didn’t hear this from me, but everyone here wants you two to start dating. Erin sent those memes in thinking it would kick your asses into gear but it didn’t work as well as she thought it would, I guess. Also, a lot of Smosh fans ship you. There’s a few compilations on YouTube if you’re curious. Just some food for thought.” She smiled brightly before leaving you to ponder on that.

You decided to pop your headphones in and do a quick check on that “compilation” comment. You weren’t due to set for twenty more minutes, so you clicked on a five minute compilation titled “Y/N and Spencer being soulmates for 5 minutes and 28 seconds”. Soulmates. It was accurate, to you, but that didn't make it any easier to stomach. You only got a few clips into the compilation before you started to get a little too warm. You freshened up your face and deodorant in the bathroom, and set off for the stream.

//

Everything was off to a good start. You fiddled around with a few songs, and Spencer, of course, was holding perfect conversation with you while also getting a 96% on Expert mode. It was time to start executing your plan, and you knew Angela was right off to the side watching.

“Okay, so, I didn’t tell you this,” you started, glancing at Spencer, “but I did some extra training without you.” You smiled nervously, hoping he wouldn’t be mad at you.

“No way! Cheater.” Your best friend was gleaming at you, and despite his words, he seemed a bit proud. “You just wanted to impress me, didn’t you, Peach?” 

He definitely expected you to falter at the mention of your nickname while on stream, but you held strong. If you blushed, then you blushed. You didn't really have a say in that.

“Well, of course I did. Anyway, I made sure we added one of my favorite songs to the game while you were busy running around setting up, but it’s only mapped on Expert mode. You think I can do it?”

“I believe in you wholeheartedly.” You could tell from the smile on his face that he wasn’t joking. Well, here goes nothing.

“Okay, close your eyes because I have to scroll and find it and I don’t want you to see which song it is.”

“You said it was one of your favorites, right? Can I guess?” Spencer had both hands over his eyes, under his glasses, which made him look quite silly. And while he did know a lot of your favorite songs, you were pretty sure you hadn’t mentioned this one to him.

“Go ahead,” you urged, scrolling through the menus for a few seconds before asking Alex the best way to get to the song.

“Okay, let’s see here. Is it Andria by La Dispute?”

“Nope.”

“Avocado, Baby by Los Campesinos!?”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ this time.

“Change by Djo?”

“Ah, there it is!” You had finally found the song, after a few too many minutes of scrolling around. The chat didn’t seem to be bothered by the current lack of commentary because they all still seemed to be reeling about Spencer calling you Peach. Which was fair, because mentally you were also freaking out a little bit. But you had more important things to worry about than the blush that was definitely painting your neck and face.

“I was right?” Spencer moved his hands, “Oh, no I wasn’t. I didn’t know you liked The Corrs?” He looked back at you now, and you thought you heard him comment on your blush. But you could rewatch later. For now, you needed to slay this song.

“Spencer, of course I like The Corrs.” You locked in on the song, hitting every single note with ease. You found yourself singing the song too, and Spencer joined in not long after you started.

“Can’t hide it! Can’t fight it! So, go on, go on! Come on, leave me breathless. Tempt me, tease me! Till I can’t deny this loving feelin’! Make me long for your kiss!” You were both singing your hearts out, and you were simultaneously shredding on the fancy guitar controller Spence had secured for Smosh. The chat was going wild, but neither of you thought to even ask about it. The song ended and you managed to get a 92% on Expert mode, while singing and conversing. That was the best you’d ever done on a song, and you had no doubt it was because your best friend was next to you singing with you. 

//

The stream ended after about an hour and a half, your voice hoarse from singing and cheering and yelling. You had picked Breathless by The Corrs because you knew you had never mentioned liking them to Spencer, but the lyrics of the song were just too accurate for how you felt. And you and Angela both knew you wouldn’t be able to actually get a confession out, so you were hoping the song was enough to give Spencer the push to say something himself. And him singing the song with you certainly did something to your insides, but these days everything that man did made your stomach flip. And you were okay with that. You could get used to that. Maybe you even wanted that. You wanted Spencer, unabashedly.

Angela pulled you down the hall away from your other coworkers to ask how you felt. “I don’t know how I feel, to be honest. It was nerve-wracking and stressful at some points, but I don’t know, singing one of my favorite love songs with the man I’m currently in love with was an incredible feeling.” You were so happy and so bubbly you didn’t even realize your wording.

Until you noticed Angela was staring at you.

“What? Oh, fuck. Okay, yeah, I didn’t mean to say that. Um, Just... I’m really high on energy right now, is all.” You let out a soft chuckle, trying to walk back your statement. But she had heard it, and Angela wasn’t exactly one to let things go. “Angela, please do not mention this until we have both clocked out and left the building. Then you can go crazy, but just wait until then. Please,” you quietly begged. It was going to come up again – no doubt about that. But you couldn’t do it while you were still here. You didn’t have anything left to shoot today but you did have some paperwork to do and some marketing stuff to work on, and Tommy asked you to be in a TikTok earlier in the week so that still needed to be done too.

“Okay, okay. I’ll wait. But you will be hearing from me as soon as I park my ass on my couch at home,” Angela whispered back, attempting to meet your volume level but mostly failing.

“What’re y’all whispering about over here?” Spencer had come down the hallway, a Kickstart in one hand and your favorite flavor of Red Bull in the other.

“We’re conspiring on how to break YouTube's streaming rules on a livestream and get away with it, why?” You supplied, knowing he would appreciate a little joke after a somewhat-tense livestream. Maybe the livestream was only tense for you, though. You graciously accepted the Red Bull as he handed it to you.

He did laugh, luckily, and turned towards Angela, “I think Arasha would be a better co-conspirator for that. Y/N is too nice to break internet law.” He smiled at you now, and put his hand on your shoulder, his warmth spreading through your body.

He was always so warm, and you religiously ran cold. It was one of many ways you two fit together so well. You both balanced each other out in all the best ways, Spencer giving more where you had to give less, and vice versa. He always knew just what you needed, and just when you needed it. In so many ways, your friends were right. You were already a couple, basically, without the main perks of being together. You weren’t able to cash in on the parts of the relationship that you really craved – you wanted to kiss him, you wanted to fall asleep in his arms, you wanted to spend lazy Sunday mornings in bed with him and let him teach you all the video games you didn’t understand. You wanted Spencer in a way you couldn’t put into words. It was a visceral need deep inside your bones; an almost bothersome, unending ache. Your want for him outweighed any other emotion you could possibly feel.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could take it.

“Hey, Ang, can I talk to Spence alone for a second?” You smiled innocently, knowing she’d see through it.

“Oh, of course. I’ll talk to you later! Love you both!” She yelled, speed-walking away like her life depended on it. She was halfway down the hallway before she even finished her sentence.

Spencer and you turned to face each other, and suddenly your throat was quite dry. You remembered, gratefully, that he had brought you a Red Bull. You held a finger up to communicate that you needed a second, and then downed half the can in one go. You burped quite loudly afterwards, apologizing for the loud noise.

“You good, brother?” Your best friend inquired, his hand finding his favorite place on your wrist. He always touched your wrist when he was worried about you, a small gesture that always made you light up inside. Despite his overall relaxed demeanor, you could tell he was a bit anxious. His other hand started fidgeting not long after you asked Angela to leave.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Okay, so I’m going to word vomit right now. I know you’re going to want to tell me to shut the fuck up, but please let me just puke it out and then I promise you can have the floor afterwards. Okay?” He nodded, and you started again. “I love you, Spence. You know that, right?” 

Spencer’s fidgeting picked up speed and you grabbed both of his hands in yours, hoping to quell any anxious thoughts forming. You rubbed your thumbs on the back of his hands, realizing once again how warm he was. “You know that, right?” You reiterated, needing the confirmation before you moved forward.

“Yes, Y/N. I love you, too. You also know that, right?” You could hear his voice shake a little, tempting you to try and hurry this up so as not to stress him out. You still wanted it to come out coherent and somewhat romantic, but you weren’t sure if you could handle him being so anxious. 

You smiled, intertwining your fingers with his before continuing on. “Yes, I do. But I’m also lying to you every time I tell you that.” Spencer’s face very quickly dropped at this, prompting you to remind him to let you word vomit and that everything was okay. After you two shared some deep breaths, you continued on.  “I say I love you, and I mean it, because I do, but… honestly for years and years now, I’ve meant it differently than you might mean it. I do love you, but not as a friend. Spencer, I’m so head over ass in love with you. I’m tired of fighting it, I’m tired of hiding it, I’m tired of everyone making jokes at our expense. If you don’t reciprocate, trust me, I understand. I won’t be upset. I just hope you can forgive me for potentially ruining this friendship. But, I need to be honest with myself and most of all, with you. I love you, Spence, and not as a friend. And I’m hoping you can be okay with that.”

You took a deep breath, letting your words wash over him while you tried to quickly recuperate from the intense reeling in your brain. If everyone else at the Smoffice was right, he did reciprocate. But now you weren’t so sure. He had been silent far longer than you expected. You pulled yourself out of your head to look at Spencer, finally, having been looking at his hands in yours to try and center yourself.

But, he was crying. “Oh, god, Spencer. I’m sorry, that was not cool of me, we’re at work. I’m sorry, I’m... I’ll go.” You disconnected your hands and ran for the office doors, not bothering to grab your bag or keys or phone. You just really needed to be away from everything right now. If he called after you, or if anyone did for that matter, you didn’t hear it. You needed to get out. And you needed to get out now.

You made your best friend cry.

After telling him you loved him and wanted him in a way he couldn’t give to you.

How badly did you just fuck everything up?

✧˖°.⁺‧˚ ♡ ˚‧⁺ ✧˖°.

I'M SORRY aaaaaaaa

taglist: @lokidokieokie <3

[ateliersss]

Bandaids and Kisses

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: One part of motherhood seemed to be patching up your reckless pup after another adventure in the wild against his parents’ wishes. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 2.885 Before the Blooming Family series

⇨ Hello, you Yautja lovers. With this, we are going back in time, before the happenings of the "Blooming Family" series. I hope you enjoy it! Comments are always appreciated!

⇨ You want to know something hilarious? A Yautja in their early twenties is the equivalent of a human in its 50's/60's, so Akail as a ten-year-old Yautja would be a minus something human baby.

“Oh my God, Akail! Again?”

You were taken to Yautja Prime about filthy years ago, Life-mated to Mi’ytiar for forty years, and an accepted and established member of his clan for ten years now. Ten years, the same amount of time your son had walked, talked, and breathed. Ruling alongside your mate and hunting for food weren’t enough to make your contribution. Giving Mi’ytiar a pup had apparently been the only thing that changed your role among them; from an outsider (and even a simple plaything for their leader to some) to what you were now — the female counterpart of a clan leader, the Matriarch.

You had heard of several Matriarchs on Yautja Prime. Like you, they were mated to the clan leader, but unlike you, they were the superior one in their dynamic, and even above an Elder or Ancient. You wouldn’t dare to assume the same form of authority for yourself and kept to the secondary leading role just as a queen consort on Earth would. You had much more freedom and control than you could ask for, completely content in the position you were holding right now, and you never felt the need to claim the power of a true Matriarch. The fact that the Females of the Yautja race were viewed much higher in leading roles than the Males was satisfying enough.

Nonetheless, you still had particular obligations and a certain appearance to maintain. You would take part in organizing the journey of the Un-Blooded to become Blooded, ensured the civilized coexistence within the clan by taking on the role of a judge in court on Earth, approved of every newborn pup that is presented to you and deem them worthy, listened to their requests and suggestions and tried to contribute as best as you could, and even had become a beacon of generosity and kindness to the clan for advice and consolation. The list went on and on, but instead of feeling crushed by the huge amount of responsibility, you relished in it. It was an honor, truly.

Another thing that was expected of you was joining the elder Females in their den and listening to their wisdom with other younger Females. Rather than a bothersome duty you had to force yourself to attend, you absolutely loved their company.

And the den was a beautiful place you loved to spend your time in, a flawless merge between ancient architecture and the futuristic Yautja influence, round in shape and with a high dome-ish roof that was held together by a construct of pillars and beams into which hieroglyphs were carved. Fire was burning in the hollow beams and illuminated the room above the heads of everyone present.

A week of adjusting to your new life had gone by without leaving Mi’ytiar’s home — your home the second you had crossed the threshold — before he decided it was time to introduce you to his people. And the place he had brought you to first was the den of the Elders. It had been a tough start, but they were surprisingly objective. Instead of seeing you for what you were, they saw you for who you were. Even if you were among giants, you had felt welcomed.

On this day and decades later, you had joined them as well, taking your place at the fire pit and opposite the entrance on the only chair in the round room. The Matriarch had her very own seat in the den, a throne-like construction made of something that felt like a mix of stone and metal. Meanwhile, the other Females sat on white stepstones on the mossy ground around the pit.

Matheih, the Female that held the unofficially highest rank among the Elders and had been the first you felt comfortable with, was just about to discuss the matter of a Bad Blood who had come too close to the clan's borders when you noticed movement from the corner of your eye. You snapped your head to the entrance and gasped.

Your shocked exclamation had cut Matheih off, causing her to startle. The rest of the Elders either looked at you, or your son who seemed to shrink under the intense eyes of the Females.

You immediately rose from your seat, the others following you swiftly, and you raced around them to Akail who anxiously fiddled with the charm attached to his loin cloth.

One day, you had noticed the longing gaze of your pup fixed to his father’s loin cloth and the trinkets and trophies swinging on his hips. Without further ado, you tailored him something new and decorated it with a thread on which various square stones and animal teeth were strung, the thread sewn into the front of the self-made cloth to the right hip. His eyes had been so bright when you presented it to him.

“Akail, my little warrior.” You sighed when you reached your son, kneeling in front of him to be on the same level as him.

You cupped his cheeks and examined his face. There were several cuts across his face — two on his forehead, one under his right eye, and one above his left eye — and fluorescent green blood was smeared around his wounds and coated his mandibles. When you checked his dreads, running your fingers through the short tendrils, he winced.

“My sweetling, what happened?” You asked when you grabbed his hands and scanned his arms up and down.

“I follow a tochi.” He mumbled and instantly avoided your stern glare.

A lie.

Placing your pointer and middle finger under his chin, you tilted his head up so he was looking into your eyes again.

“Were you near the borders again?” You pressed on and raised an eyebrow.

Akail pulled a grimace. “Yeah.”

Another lie.

“How many times do I have to tell you that it’s dangerous?”

Akail looked down like a kicked puppy. “Sorry, Mama.”

No. No, you were not allowed to melt right now. You needed to be strong and determined to be angry at him for disobeying one of your and his father’s rules. You needed him to understand that running after an animal for the nth time and moving too far away from the clan’s land was risky without someone by his side.

But those damn puppy eyes of his, the same look his father sometimes used on you, they made you weak and yielding.

“Come on.” You softly smiled at him and stretched out a hand to him.

When you stood upright again, Akail wasted no time to grab your hand while his other arm wrapped around your leg, clinging to you. You turned to the Females, excused yourself, and apologized to Matheih for interrupting her before you and Akail left the den.

Hand in hand, you walked the short route to your home.

“Does it hurt, my sweetling?” You asked him when you entered the grounds of your home.

You whistled at Be'jaa who had started barking at the intruders, as well as the two other Hell Hounds Mi’ytiar owned, Vohtu and Gihn’tha, and signaled them that it was just you and to stand down.

“Not anymore, Mama.” Akail vehemently shook his head, putting on a brave face.

You smiled down at him and led him inside, lifted him into your arms, and carried him to the long table that stood in the center of the main room of your home. Behind it and opposite the entrance door, three other doors lead deeper into your home to adjoining rooms like your bedroom. Just like the den of the elders, this room was round with a dome roof made out of orange and light grey glass, but there was at least a meter of additional ceiling going sideways from where the dome ended and from which a ring of rock was hanging down, like a huge ring-shaped lamp circling the whole room.

Just like a routine, you placed him down on the surface, kissed the little space between his nonexistent eyebrows, immediately eliciting a merry purr from him, and got the Medicomp that was stored in one of the box-drawers under the long shelves where your mate displayed his trophies.

You placed the Medicomp next to Akail on the table, sat down, and quickly got to work crushing the plaster and melting it with the burner, adding the blue solvent and mixing it until you got a gel.

“You know the drill, baby. It’s going to hurt.” You warned him, taking one of his hands into your free one before you started applying the gel to the thin cuts on his face.

Immediately, Akail let out a sharp hiss and squeezed your hand as hard as he could. But he remained still, not wanting to ruin your already careful treatment. His eyes danced across your face, admired the color of your eyes that was so different from his, studied your smooth skin that wasn’t as rough or beige and green as his, scanned your mouth that wasn’t hidden behind tusks.

He opened his mouth, but you cut him off before he could even utter the first syllable of his question.

“Be honest with me, Akail. What happened? You don’t just get wounds like that because you followed a tochi.” You questioned him and placed the spatula to the side before you grabbed the cloth that you had added to the Medicomp and dabbed the blood away from his already healing cuts and his mandibles.

“Stumbled over a stone.” He answered in a huff.

Another lie.

“I roll down a slope in a bush.”

Lie, lie, lie.

You hummed. “The bad ones near the stonehenge? I told you to stay away from there. Those statues are unstable and you aren’t yet strong enough to withstand their weight should one fall down on you.”

“Sorry, Mama.” Akail muttered and pulled his head in as if it would help him to escape the shame your words caused him.

You were melting once again at the sincerity in his words and reassurance washed over you. You may have had no idea how to raise a child as you never had the opportunity of doing it before, but you must be doing something right when he was capable of realizing his mistakes and showing remorse. But it wasn’t the kind of remorse you were thinking of.

“It’s alright, my sweetling. And you did so well in keeping still for me. You were very brave.” You cooed and kissed first the healing cuts on his forehead before you turned to the ones at his eyes.

But he wasn’t. If he was as brave as you claimed, he would tell you that it wasn’t the thorns of the bushes overgrowing the stonehenge but the still-developing claws of the older Younglings making fun of you that had caused the wounds. Akail had tried very, very hard to ignore their teasing and provoking snides, but when one of them — the tallest of all people — started talking about how glad he was that his mother was a respectable Female of the tribe and not some foreign, lowly pet that warmed the nest of the clan leader and probably pleased any other Male on the side, little Akail saw only red.

He had jumped the older Youngling and bit down on his neck while his claws inflicted as much damage as they were capable of. But due to his smaller size and frail strength, this advantage was turned against him in the next second when he felt his face being scratched open and his back colliding with the ground when he was pushed off by the older boy.

Luckily, before the situation could escalate even more, two Blooded Yautja neared the small group and Akail used the opportunity to quickly stand up and hurry to the den of the Elders where he knew his mother was.

It hadn’t been the first time and it will probably not be the last time, but he had promised himself to always protect you from anything that could crush your beautiful heart and kind soul that had showed him unconditional love from the moment he had opened his eyes to take his first ever look at his mother. It had been blurry and unfocused, but he remembered your smile. That smile.

“Mama?” Akail asked as he watched you packing up the Medicomp.

“Mhm?” You hummed and lowered yourself on one of the chairs around the table, right in front of him.

Instantly, Akail reached for your shiny hair and started fiddling with it, feeling how soft and silky it was. When he was a toddler, he would often play with it while purring, not being able to speak yet but his sweet chatter combined with his wide eyes was enough for you to be reminded how much he was his father’s son. Both were enamored, maybe even slightly obsessed with your human features.

Akail huffed. “Why you not look like me?”

“Hm?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise at the topic of his sudden question.

“Why you look like this? Why not like me or Papa?” He pushed further and curled a lock of your hair around his pointer finger.

“My sweetling.” You cooed, lifted him up by his waist, and settled him down on your lap, his legs dangling from each side of your thighs. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your chest close to your throat. “Do you remember the bedtime stories I sometimes tell you?”

You only felt vibrations against your skin and you took that as an answer, a cue to continue, “When I was little like you, your grandmama sat next to my bed and told me the same ones.”

Akail pulled his face from your chest and lifted his head to look up at you. “Grandmama?”

I nod. “Yeah. Mama’s mama.” You cupped his little face and peppered it with kisses. “Those stories are from the place I was born. Earth.”

“Are there more looking like you?”

“Yes. Many like me. Earth is similar to home. There are villages all over the planet and they speak different tongues, too. They have a clan leader called a major or a president and they have warriors, but also normal people who work jobs or go to school.”

“What is job?” Akail asked curiously and cocked his head to the side.

“A job is something oomans do to earn a living, to build a life. It is a little different here. For example, with a job you can earn money and buy food, but here, you just go into the forest and hunt. With a job, you can also build a house, but here, you just do it yourself with resources this planet has to offer.” You explained with a soft smile.

“What a ooman?”

“It’s what I am, my little warrior. Mama is ooman, a human. That’s why I look so different than you or your Papa.”

“But why I don’t look more like you?” Akail asked and his adorable face got even more precious when he pulled it into a frown.

You hummed as if you were in thought before you put on a bright grin and started to tickle his sides. “Because I wanted someone unique and extraordinary, and I hoped for someone who is as handsome and strong and chivalrous as your Papa. And speaking of your Papa, he was determined to have a pup like you, my sweetling.”

Mi’ytiar had been very determined indeed that his DNA took root inside you. It also hadn’t been the only thing that had completely dominated you.

“I know I’m not as big and strong and pretty as the other mothers-“

“You more pretty!”

“What?” You asked with raised eyebrows at his offended tone.

“You more pretty! More pretty than other mothers, more pretty than other Females! Say you more pretty!” Akail protested, immediately standing up for you even against your own words.

You had to swallow your emotions during his short rant. This boy had your heart, so precious and pure, and your emotional intelligence, already developed so far for his young age. You had no idea you were able to create something so beautiful and special.

“I’m more pretty.” You repeated his words with a smile, petting the top of his head, and kissed his forehead one, two, three times. “Why don’t you go and look for Papa, hm? I bet he loves to teach you a little something about leadership.”

Akail climbed down from your lap with a click of his mandibles and was already running out of your home. You had followed him, a little slower than the hazardous speed of his, and leaned with your shoulder against the entrance as you watched him in amusement.

You had hated the thought of becoming a mother. You had hated the thought of how children would affect your health and body. You had hated the thought of giving up your freedom for them. You had hated the thought of limiting your own life to adapt to theirs. You had hated the thought of abandoning every hope you had felt, every plan you had made, and every dream you had envisioned to tend to each of their needs.

God, never had you been happier to be wrong.

Masterlist: here

Tag List

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@ladygrimmx, @blurpleuni-squid, @zaky-ller, @chrishy973, @devilslittlehelper,

@freyablack90

⇨ Want to join the tag list?

[waspabi]

truly busts my gut when i read like "wow SOME OBSESSIVE people think we should LOCK DOWN FOREVER until there is ZERO COVID which is IMPOSSIBLE and there are LOTS OF ILLNESSES THAT RUIN YOUR ORGANS NOT JUST COVID so in fact maybe YOU ARE ABLEIST for appropriating ACTUALLY DISABLED people's CONCERNS" like... (a) honey anyone isn't disabled until suddenly they are and (b) i thought we tested this kind of zero sum fatalism on global warming and found it super unhelpful or...?? why are we jumping to lockdown??? my bro... my buddy... there are...things called masks...that u can wear when ur sick or in close quarters... there are these things called air purifiers... hvac systems...air filtration... omg and things called windows, and when you open them, less people get sick. any kind of sick! isn't that crazy. absolutely wild. i, a teacher of small children, certainly cannot do lockdown and have no interest in doing lockdown and certainly only did it for about 3 weeks, but i can... open the windows? wear a mask? so my children get less organ damage and their teacher can teach them all year instead of going on medical leave? and even if i were not disabled i would still open the damn windows because i would rather my students and i not get any kind of sick...? also brains don't work as well when the air doesn't circulate? the real issue is air quality? this is not a huge drama?

"we had the black death therefore we shouldn't do anything about covid" DO YOU THINK PEOPLE DID NOTHING ABOUT THE BLACK DEATH. do you think people saw cholera and were like, hmm i love shitting my soul out of my body, let's not do anything about the water?? we'll just naturally learn to digest feces??? what is going on here. just find whoever annoyed you annoying like a normal person. it doesn't have to be ideological war.

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 6

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

Sorry this chapter took much longer than usual. I wasn't sure if I wanted to share this on the page but y'all might already know... I'm a nurse. So my schedule is nice because I only work 3 days or nights a week but... sometimes those days/nights knock me on my ass. This week was no exception.

I really appreciate every single person who has liked, reblogged, and commented on my work. It means EVERYTHING to me. I hope you all enjoy this part!

Masterlist + Playlist

Word Count: 2.2k+

You had been flipped to nights this week and your body was suffering from the sudden change to your circadian rhythm. You and Carly walked to the parking garage in exhausted silence together as the sun rose over the hospital. It was a hard night to say the least, you both were assigned to unstable elderly patients that seemed to be circling the drain. It almost felt cruel to keep them from dying peacefully because there was no way they were ever going to get better. The life sustaining care you were forced to give was just prolonging the inevitable. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, Bradley tried to text you when he woke up at 5am for work to ask how your shift was going. You quickly responded that it was crazy and that you couldn’t talk until you got off at 7:30.

Bradley Bradshaw: Please tell me you’re out of there and able to see this incredible sun rise

You: I am, thank God! I love San Diego sunrises

“Who’s that?” Carly peered over at your phone and saw the name, “Oh my god! He’s checking in on you post shift?!”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s his second time checking in on me, he texted me when he got up earlier but I said things were too crazy on the unit to talk.”

“What happened between you two then?” She asked, “You said he didn’t stay the night or anything.”

You knew she was going to ask for more information soon enough. You two were on your feet caring for your patients all night so there was no time to catch up at the nurse’s station. “He didn’t. But we hung out for a while, talked, drank a lot of wine, and he couldn’t drive himself home. So he took an Uber and then took me to brunch when he came to pick up his car.”

“He didn’t kiss you?” She asked.

You shook your head, “Nope, didn’t after brunch either.”

“Huh,” she looked puzzled, “He’s obviously so into you, we could all see it at the bar. And he took you out on a date. And he’s texting you first thing when he wakes up… he obviously likes you. Why hasn’t he kissed you?!?!”

You shrugged, “I mean, maybe he isn’t and he just wants to be friends. I also feel like dating a former patient probably breaks some kind of nursing ethics code.”

It was something that occurred to you after brunch with Bradley the day before, the possibility of this flirtation messing with your professional life.

Carly’s face dropped when the two of you stopped at your car, “Oh my god… I hadn’t even thought of that.”

You shifted your weight uncomfortably, “Yeah… so I’ve gotta ask you and I’d like you to pass it on to Madi and Sam too, not to discuss Saturday or my… friendship with Bradley at work.”

She nodded, “Of course, I’m sorry I even brought it up briefly when we got on the unit last night.”

“It’s okay, no one was around to hear. I’m just not very well liked by the senior nurses and some of the providers. I just don’t want to give them something to talk about, you know?” You explained.

“Absolutely. When is your contract up?” She asked.

“4 weeks, they asked me to extend though.” You rubbed your eyes, desperately trying to stay awake.

“Are you gonna do it? Or is it too early in the morning to talk about this?” She giggled.

You nodded, “Bingo. Let’s leave this as ‘to be continued’.”

“Alright, get home safe.” She waved you off and headed towards her car a few spots away. 

Once in your Toyota Corolla and buckled, you blasted loud music and freezing cold AC to keep you awake and alert on your commute home. Once there you peaked at your phone.

Bradley Bradshaw: Now that you’ve enjoyed the sunrise, you gotta get your ass to bed.

You: Yes sir, I’ll be out of commission until 1500 hours.

When you arrived home, you looked at your phone again to see Bradley replied with the saluting emoji. You dragged yourself out of the car and up to your apartment, in front of your door was a plastic takeout bag. The parcel was still warm when you picked it up, it was clearly left there just minutes ago. You blinked through your exhausted blurry vision and saw a note typed in the comments on the receipt… it was from the same place you had brunch with Bradley two days before.

“After working through the night, you deserve a true Californian breakfast and a nap. —Bradshaw”

This may be one of the most thoughtful things anyone had done for you in a while. You were so exhausted, you didn’t realize how hungry you were until you caught a whiff of the parcel. When you entered your apartment, you threw your bag down and went straight to the kitchen. You opened the bag to find a breakfast burrito neatly wrapped in aluminum foil, Bradley’s go to menu item. Maybe it was because of the surprise of it waiting for you at the door or because you were absolutely starving, but that thing tasted better than sex. You started your post night shift ritual with a shower. After brushing your teeth, doing your skin care, and changing into comfy clothes, you drew the black out curtains in your room, turned on the sound machine, and set an alarm for 2pm before popping a melatonin gummy. After many years as a nurse and often flipping between days and nights, you had this sleep ritual down to an absolute science.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 

Y/N <3: thank you so much for breakfast. That may be one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.

Rooster’s heart fluttered when the message flashed across his phone around 8AM. The Dagger Squad had just finished running a drill that ended with 200 push ups. That small rush made him forget how his muscles were screaming at him. He went to reply and saw the “do not disturb” icon was on. He was so glad since that meant you were most likely sleeping. So he left a reply for you to wake up to.

Bradley: I’m glad it came just in time! Hope you’re taking the best nap ever :)

“Is that sexy nurse?” Natasha inquired as she peered over his shoulder.

Rooster rolled his eyes, “Phoenix, she has a name… and that’s none of your business.”

“So yes,” she smirked, “you are texting her.”

“I’m replying to her,” he corrected, “she worked all night last night and is on again tonight. So she won’t get it until she wakes up.”

She stood on her tip toes to get a better look at the screen, “You sent her breakfast?!?!”

Bradley was not loving this line of questioning but he knew he had to answer or Phoenix would never lay off, “I sent UberEats for her to come home too.”

“You are down bad, my friend.” She shook her head.

“Am not.” He quipped back.

“ Are too!” She shoved him.

“That’s not fair Phoenix, just cause you’re one of the boys doesn’t mean I’ll stoop low enough to shove a woman.” He groaned.

She chuckled, “You’re just scared to get your shit rocked, Bradshaw.”

Hangman suddenly appeared beside Phoenix, skillfully placing her in a headlock. “Is this little lady giving you trouble, Rooster?”

She squirmed and screamed, “Hangman, I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

“Ya know Phoenix,” he sighed, “Forever the bully.”

Phoenix reached over and Hangman a firm tap in the junk, causing him to jump and release her.

Rooster couldn’t help but smile as the two of them fought like siblings.

“I was asking him about the hot nurse from the other night.” She explained, “He’s texting her and sent breakfast to her place for her to come home to after work.”

Hangman’s face lit up, “Bradley, Bradley, Bradley… I never thought I’d see the day. You’re courtin’ a fine lady.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, “Courting is a strong word. I’m showing her that I’m… kinda interested.”

Hangman and Phoenix gave each other knowing looks.

Natasha nodded, “Uh huh, yeah. Sureeeeee.”

2pm rolled around and Bradley was wrapping up his work day on base.

Y/N <3: Not the best nap ever but pretty damn good. I’m gonna walk on the beach and get some sunshine before it’s back to the dungeon for the night. What are you up to for the rest of the day?

Should he shoot his shot? She wouldn’t keep engaging with him if she wasn’t at least a little interested, right?

Bradley: Joining you for a walk on the beach if you’ll allow it.

Y/N <3: I would love that. What time can you be at my place?

This was good. This was really good. She’s invited him back to her place. 

Bradley: I gotta change out of my uniform and stuff, how does 3 sound?

Y/N <3: Perfect, I’ll see you soon :)

Rooster had an extra skip in his step as he packed up his things, grateful for the 6am start allowing his work day to have an early finish. Once in his Bronco, he sped home to change into some casual clothes. He decided to really shake it up and not wear his usual Hawaiian shirt and jeans combo. A UVA t-shirt and some gym shorts seemed a lot more appropriate for a casual beach walk. Bradley really couldn’t believe he was putting that much thought into what he wore for something so casual. 

When he walked up to her door he could hear music through it. Whatever Y/N was listening to, she was clearly jamming. When he knocked, she quickly called out, “It’s open!”. He got a better listen to the music once the door was open, it was high energy with a… saxophone? It was kind of lit.

“What is this?” Bradley asked, “It’s awesome!”

“Modern Woman by Bleachers,” she entered the living room wearing a similar outfit to his, a university t-shirt and gym shorts, “Isn’t it great? Kinda gives me Springsteen vibes.”

He paused and listened a little more, “Yes, that’s spot on!”

“Let me just make sure I have my life together for work, so I can just change and leave later.” She said, heading toward the kitchen.

He took another good look at her as she took her lunchbox, water bottle, and an energy drink from the fridge and set it out on the counter. Fresh faced from her nap, hair in a bun, shorts and a t-shirt… he had never seen anything more beautiful.

Y/N paused for a moment and looked over at Rooster, “Is everything okay? Do I have something on my face?”  

He shook his head, “Yes, everything’s great… you look great.”

She smiled shyly and continued her task, “Thank you, Bradley… are you ready to head to the beach?”

“Hell yeah,” he asked, “which beach are we headed to?”

“Nothing fancy, just the beach a few blocks away.” She shrugged, “Hope you don’t mind tagging along on my normal, boring jaunt.”

He shook his head, “Y/N, nothing with you could be boring. I’d have fun watching paint dry.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 

The two of you walked along the shoreline; the waves ebbed and flowed across the sand and towards your feet. The wind whipped across your face and through your hair, making it dance wildly. Bradley looked so handsome beside you, you couldn’t help but stare and hope that maybe it would be less obvious since you had sunglasses on.

“I should start doing this more, it’s much more pleasant than running.” He chuckled to himself, “It’s so peaceful.”

You giggled, “Drinking bleach is more pleasant than running, in my opinion.”

“You’re not a runner?” He asked.

“Not unless something’s chasing me.” You quipped.

A smirk slowly crept across Bradley’s face. You weren’t exactly sure what was going through his head but you felt the sudden urge to start sprinting. Next thing you knew he was hot on your heels and you couldn’t help but giggle breathlessly, running on sand was so freaking hard! Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off your feet with ease.

“BRADSHAW!!!” You cried out through your giggles, leaning your head back on his shoulder behind you.

His face burrowed into your neck, “You say you’re not a runner but you’re pretty speedy.”

You turned your head to look at him, nose to nose, still giggling breathlessly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said simply.

It was like two magnets, your lips crashed into his, there was no force that could stop it. Once you realized what you did, you quickly pulled away, “I’m so sorry.”

He placed you gently back on your feet, “Y/N, the only thing you owe me an apology for is stopping.”

Your stomach fluttered, “Soooo… you wanna do it again?”

“Kiss me, you fool.” He chuckled, grabbing you by the cheeks and stroking them sweetly with his thumb.

You stepped closer so you two were chest to chest and gently brushed your lips against his. With a jolt of pure electricity, you pressed deeper into his kiss. It wasn’t until this moment, when you tasted his lips, that you realized how fucking starving you were.

Tag list:

@sarah-bear706318

@dizzybee03

@that-gay-person-27

@alwayshave-faith

@caitsymichelle13

@thespillingvoid

Please message or comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

[l0stfoster]

Hey its paul anon again (thanks for the name 🫡) sorry ive been bombarding you with questions but I absolutely love this au and i love everyone to bits

So, can you go into more detail about darry and paul . Like, as much info abt them as you can throw at me those two are my boys . Like how did they officially get together , how did Paul go abt moving in and whats that situation like .

Also, when Paul is like kicked out and cut off from the family, does he end up just,, losing everything? I mean like, did his parents even let him get his belongings or did all he have was the clothes on his body and trauma. I would imagine his parents had control over his bank account too so they like shut that down too so he’s out here broke as fuck JHSJSHSJ sorry im just yapping

Anon never apologizes for asking I'm so open to answering them bc I love this au and I adore that so many people like it too. Parry fans are eating good bc the writers love Cursed!Parry just as much. I'll answer your questions ab them before I yap. To be totally honest, those two did not ever really make it official. Doing that requires two things they lack; emotional openness and no internalized homophobia. They both told themselves for the longest time that it wasn't a relationship... even after they started saying "I love you" in Latin and Fae respectively (Paul knows Latin bc spells, Darry knows Fae for obvious reasons), or when each other realized managed to figure out WHAT the other was saying,, or when they started sharing a bed and waking up intertwined,,, or when they started using far too affectionate pet names,,, or when things became far too intimate for it to be casual. They never actually make it official, one day they just slip into calling each other their boyfriends. The most official it ever got was when they flat out went "Oh yeah, we're dating" to the gang. The gang was making bets on that, by the way. Pony said weeks, Soda said a month, Steve said two, Two-Bit said a year. Ace got it right down to the date and time, nobody knows how she did it. They have no anniversary because they have no fucking idea when they really "got together". Paul never truly moved in either, he kinda just went from crashing there whenever his car wasn't an option, to taking up the couch almost every night, to sleeping in Darry's room, and eventually, it was just an unspoken thing that he was officially a member of the household. They have to kick him out for the day whenever the social worker comes to check on things, cause Darry can NOT take the risk of some kind of bad outcome to his mere existence. OK MORE GENERAL PARRY - Being with Paul reminds Darry that he's only 20 and still allowed to be something other than "the adult" sometimes. That brings a whole KIND of happiness that he can't describe. Dude's tail is fucked up due to physical trauma but that bitch wags so fast with Paul. - Darry on the other hand just generally grounds Paul. He's so used to the way of life that was on the west side that everything going on there is overwhelming sometimes. - They're very bad with vocal I love you's in English but they will say that shit ALL the time in different languages or through their actions. - Uh after Paul got jumped and had his letterman jacket stolen, Darry gave him an old denim jacket of his own bc Paul hated having his arms out in the open. - Pony audibly gags every time they're lovey-dovey. He's not homophobic unless you're Paul and Darry. - They'd shotgun cigarettes when they were younger (and the only reason they don't anymore is the account of Darry wanting to keep the fact that he smokes every rare occurrence on the down low) - Darry's purring has healing properties like a cat's purr (all of the brothers' have it actually) so this mf will just drag Paul down to cuddle and purr. - They are.. so down bad for each other. Darry does anything and Paul swoons, and they've def had an interaction that goes something like this: Paul, knowing Darry cant lie: "How do you feel about me right now?" Darry, immediately: "I'd marry you if I could." Paul & Darry:

As for being kicked out, Paul's parents quite literally just. Booted him, barely a warning. One minute he's arguing back for the first time since their keeping up appearances at the police event, and the next he's being dragged by the arm and shoved out of the house with threats of being killed if he dares to show his face back there. Just like that, all of it's pretty much gone; save for the clothes on his back and whatever he'd been carrying-- which was really only his car keys and his wallet. He was sleeping in his car for a bit until Two and Pony vaguely got on his ass because Darry's calls were going to voicemail and he was stupid enough to let it slip that he wasn't living at home anymore. Pony, being Pony, snitched. Can't have shit with that little gremlin around- so after finding his dumbass after having had the equivalent of an aneurism over suddenly being ghosted by Paul, Darry extended the offer for Paul to stay with them. He doesn't mind it being a permanent solution, but Paul is.. less fond for a few reasons; so he tries not to impose much while he looks for work. (He does eventually get something sorted out, so yippie! Helps with the bills what a guy) FORGOT TO ADD. He sneaks home at one point to try and get some of his shit because he knows where the spare key is, but gets cold feet at the door because he genuinely doesn't know if his dad will keep up with that threat.

[animebw]

So if you've missed the wonderful thing that's been happening on Twitter the past week- I know, good things happening on Twitter? Impossible!- there's a super new yuri manga called Love-Bullet that's absolutely exploded in popularity. After subpar volume 1 sales, the author took to Twitter to beg fans for support to keep the series alive. And not only did fans answer the call, word spread so fast and far that English fans started buying the first volume en masse from Japanese realtors- which, to be clear, are the untranslated Japanese volumes, so most of those fans will still need to seek out scanlations to actually read the damn thing. But they didn't care! They just wanted to keep this series alive. And so many fans were willing to put their money where their mouth was that most realtors straight-up sold out in just a couple days.

That's nuts. That's a swelling of grassroots support I don't know if I've ever seen on this scale. Just through word of mouth, this series that seemed on the verge of cancellation has ended up out of stock in basically every online marketplace from how many new fans it's picked up. All because people saw something genuinely special and decided to come together to ensure its creator could tell the story they wanted to tell all the way to completion. I hope inee is incredibly proud of how many people her work has reached, how many people have been inspired by what she has to say with her art. And I encourage you all to join in that support, to spread the good word of Love-Bullet to everyone you can so this series can continue the way its creator wants.

Because good lord, even with just a single volume to go off of, this could be the start of something fantastic. The concept of cupids being the spirits of people who died with their own loves unfulfilled, so the spend the rest of their eternity playing matchmaker to resolve their own unresolved love stories, is a genuinely fresh idea, but the way it's executed on top of that makes for a story that's equal parts hilarious, heartbreaking, and joyous. It's a story of death that's all about celebrating life, lost souls finding peace with the lives they left behind as they help those who carry on without them. And it's brought to life with this gorgeous, expressive sketchy art style that feels like a lost 2000s manga dragged into the present day, conveying so much character and emotion with such small and simple choices. And this is just volume 1! There's no telling what surprises and growth are still in store down the line! Imagine if it had gone undiscovered and ended up cancelled before it had the chance to bloom! We are so fucking lucky Love-Bullet blew up the way it did. So don't take this second chance for granted and go give it some love.

[neuvilletteswife4ever]

So I have sent a request in the queue right now, but I have another (possibly good) idea:

Gender neutral reader, but they're sadistic and able to escape and elude the Harbingers for prolonged periods

They leave little notes behind that mock them and the Tsaritsa, all the while leaking their secrets; they effectively toy with Harbingers and constantly remind them of their weaknesses and soft spots (i.e. Childe and his family, Arlecchino and the House of the Hearth, etc.)

Of course, they'll get caught eventually (and probably receive the ass-beating of a lifetime), but they never learn and soon they'll subsequently escape again

Eventually the Harbingers seemingly finally have enough and attempt to keep the reader in their grasp forever...

...only to find them dead via head smashing by some sort of heavy object

WOAHH I LOVE THIS WTF???

Warnings: Escaping, sadistic, humiliation, kidnapping.

YANDERE FATUI HARBINGERS X READER

It had been a week since you had escaped and the Fatui Harbingers were already going insane. How could YOU escape from them? Your entire purpose is meant to be with them and obey!

After having all of your loved ones killed, tortured, kidnapped you couldn't be with them anymore.

SOMEHOW you found a key to unlock the chain on your ankle, Arlecchino had forgotten it due to an emergency at the house of the hearth.

It was probably the biggest news on Teyvat that you had escaped. Your "bounty" (I think that's what it's called) was 10 million mora.

Gosh...and obviously, you couldn't go outside because of the people looking for you. Who wouldn't want to be get such a large amount of mora AND be noticed by the Fatui Harbingers? It's a one in a life time opportunity!

However, after being tortured for so long, it seemed like you were a new person. A complete new person from when they had kidnapped you. You became sadistic, you had a weird kind of PLEASURE in seeing others in pain, distress, humiliation. While you did think it was weird at first, you kept seeing Dottore (when you were still kidnapped and in their grasp, the Fatui Harbingers would always take you with them because you weren't allowed to be alone) in the lab TORTURING and HUMILIATING his test subjects. So, you learned that it wasn't THAT weird. We all have our weird fetishes, RIGHT?

To make the Fatui Harbingers more in distress, to torture them, you decided to MOCK them and humiliate them even more.

When you were with the Fatui Harbingers, Pantalone gave you his money (because he's rich) to spend. He wanted to spend money on his darling, to spoil them, in an attempt to gain their trust. That NEVER worked.

So you had leftover mora to buy food, clothes in an attempt to disguise yourself, and lastly, hire a person who can deliver letters for you.

You were staying in an old cabin in the snowy woods of Shneznaya.

The first letter sent was for the house of the hearth. Reminding them how EVIL their "Father" was, and that they shouldn't trust her.

The second letter was for Tartaglia's siblings, Tuecer, Tonia and Anthon. Telling them how "Evil" Ajax was, their brother, rather known as Tartaglia, the Eleventh Ranked Fatui Harbinger.

The third letter was for Scaramouche, mocking him of how utterly pathetic he was. Telling him that it was so embarassing to hear that the Electro Archon, his own mother abandoned him. Absolutely humiliating the shit out of him.

More and more letters came, you knew how stressed and humiliated they were. How hurt they were.

Arlecchino found out about the letter that you sent and she was FURIOUS. How could you possibly try and get the House Of The Hearth to go against her? Their own Father!

As for Tartaglia, he was not pleased to hear about this letter.

You found a weird sense of joy in their humiliation, pain and hurting their feelings.

But little did you know that all the pain would come back to YOU...

(ill continue this soon)

[heeseungismymanz]

𝑀𝓎 𝒲𝒶𝓎

Synopsis: You and heeseung have been dating for about 3 months now. You both were the most popular people on the entire campus. It was all fine until you two got in a fight because of his ex. But now you have to go your own 𝒲𝒶𝓎.

Mentioning: All of enhypen (heeseungs friendgroup), yunjin lsfm (y/n bestie), yunah illit (heeseungs sister and your bestie), karina aespa (y/n bestie), keeho p1h (y/n ex), yeji itzy ( heeseungs ex ),more..

Pairing: Popular bf!Heeseung x Popular gf!Fem Reader

Taglist: @mitmit01 @mimisxs

Tropes: Loving to Hatred, Lovers to Exes, Friends to Enemies

BOLD = CANT BE TAGGED

Warnings: Cursing,Fighting,love language is pt so will hug,cuddle alot,nothing much,idrk! Tell me if i forgot something!

SFW MINORS ALLOWED!!

°•More under cut•°

"How am i grounded AGAIN and i have a basically broken leg?!" you ask while literally about to cry. Your at your dad's house and all you wanted to do was meet up with your boyfriend. And YOU personally didnt see a problem with it. But your dad did. "아빠는 그냥 친구예요! (dad hes just a friend!)" You yell. The only response he has is "그럼 지금 우리 친구에게 키스하는 건가요? (so we are kissing friends now?)" What was he talking about? Didnt he or like mom kiss their friends on the cheek when they were younger? Well Heeseung isnt just a friend but whats the big deal? You how old like 17? Does he want you to die single or something?. You didnt physically say it but in your mind you said "무슨 일이 있어도 나는 학교에 갈 것이다. (whatever im going to school.)"

Now your walking to school. May i mind you with a sprained ankle (that is NOT breaking your leg but wtv) and all you hear is "she really is weak!" or "ew her personality is giving ugly but her face is giving pretty!" those insults were WEAK to you and were super childish so you just walked by not giving a single fuck. Soon you made it to class. And the first class had to be math. Heeseung and Yeji sitting in a corner laughing ,smiling and just talking. Then your friends sitting in another death-staring them. You take a seat with YOUR friends and Heeseung's friends. "Hey guys!" You say smiling hiding the fact your annoyed seeing Heeseung and his EX together. "Hey ynnie!" Yunjin says first. You smile then use your phone texting Heeseung "Hey can we talk soon after class?" You see the bubble typing to see a new message "Sure.." What does he mean "Sure.." he's supposed to be the kind, loving boyfriend he always had been. Annoyed you decide to talk to Jake because who doesnt like talking to your boyfriends friend? "Hey jakey!!" You say loud enough for Heeseung to hear. "Oh hi yn!" he says smiling back with his big puppy like smile. "Wanna eat lunch together?" You also say really loud to the point Jay and Sunghoon asks "Can we join?!" at the exact same time. "Sure! Id love to eat with all of you. How bout all of us including Yunjin, Karina, and Yunah join and meet at that boba cafe near by!" You say smiling really big at Jake for no absolute reason then looking back to the others. "OOH YES!" Karina says. "Seems like a good plan" Yunah says. "I should invite hee-" Yunah trys to say "Oh no its fine hes with Yeji anyway. Im sure they have plans together for lunch!" You say practically aiming for them to not come while also cutting off Yunah. "Oh true! Plus we havent been all together for a while like this." Sunghoon adds. "Okay ill text the address." You say. "Also i cant go to any parties for like a week so :/" You add on. "What AGAIN?!" Jay asks. "Yeah i got in trouble for sneakin out tryna meet with someone i shouldnt see." Then the teacher walks in Yappa yappa yappa.

Heeseung texts you. "Lets talk now?" he asks. "Sure meet me at my locker." You text back. Honestly your really scared to the point you might even pee or poop your pants. You havent talked to him ever since the fight. So you dont really know what to say. You lowkey zone out for a few minutes til heeseung shows up. "What do you want?" He asks obviously NOT wanting to be there. "Why the fuck are you with Yeji? Am i NOT your girlfriend?" You asked him quite literally deathstaring him. "Listen she's better anyway like why'd you try punching her?" he asks as if he's trying to avoid the question. "Punching? So i started punching now?!" You say kind yelling in the school hallway. "WHY DOES IT MATTER TO YOU?!" He asks still avoiding the question. "Heeseung its my way or hers. Choose." You say literally annoyed to the point you might drop kick him like a kickball. "And what if i choose hers?" He says. "Im done with this fucking bullshit see me out of this relationship. All i was trying to ask was why your flirting with your ex!" You yell. "OH IM FLIRTING NOW?!" He yells back in defense. At this point Sunghoon, Jake, Jay, Karina, and Yunjin found you and Heeseung. You quite literally almost punched him but then Karina, and Jay held you back. Then you black out.

Now your in the nurses office. All you remember was Karina and Jay holding you back. Nothing more nothing less. The nurse walked in. " Yoon Yn im sorry to say this but you have bruises and have a serious head injury that might not heal really fast because you've been hit in the head by Heeseung." That fucking bitch. How'd you even like a man like that? All because you tried Sneakin out tryna meet with someone you shouldnt see.

AN: What an interesting way to end a chapter. Why is heeseung lowkey a bitch in this chapterrrr. Im so sorry i havent been updating but it's because my sports. I literally have volleyball games back to back every week.

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[valeovalairs]

I’m only on series five I shouldn’t watch the sixtieth anniversary specials. I’m only on series five I shouldn’t watch the sixtieth anniversary specials. I’m only on series five I shouldn’t-

[somegrumpynerd]

Cross has trouble getting to sleep alone in his room and goes looking for a distraction, but ends up finding a solution for both of them

[they-didnt-last]

anyone interested in talking about the iconic 2000's middle-grade-bordering-on-ya book series gallagher girls??

[murdleandmarot]

A quick bluebelle painting :))

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I'm on a trip right now but next week when I get home I'm gonna draw Xiao Pingguo and Lan Wunian

Would you do it. Would you do it for them