Just A Fan - Jude Bellingham X Reader

Drunk Girls Do Cry - LN

Summary: Lando has to take care of his drunk girlfriend after she has a girls night out and it’s safe to say she’s very much a mess.

During their relationship, Lando has preferred to be present with y/n while she drinks. Not because he’s controlling or possessive but because she just can’t handle her drink. She is innocently ignorant to men who try to flirt with her, thinking they’re just being friendly and nice or trying to use her to get to her friends. They’re not. On more than one occasion Lando has stepped in and made his presence clear to the men thinking they have a chance.

But she promised she’d be with the girls so Lando told her to call if she needed him then decided to have Max over and livestream for Quadrant.

He does sort of keep tabs via her instagram and snapchat stories along with sending a couple messages to make sure she’s ok just for his own peace of mind.

Then a little after 2am strikes and the boys are still on livestream, that’s when they hear a racket outside making Max look at Lando with a small laugh.

“Is that your girlfriend?” Max asks making Lando smile.

“Probably-who the fuck is that?” Lando cackles checking the ring camera and finding the poor taxi driver trying to help her. “I have to go get her. One second.”

Lando disappears leaving Max to look at the chat then directly at the camera.

“Y/n is the messiest drunk, but she is so funny. We’ll see if he brings her in here.” Max whispers before hearing y/n shouting, though he’d bet she has no idea just how loud she’s being.

“Max? Where’s Max? No-Stop, I want to see him.” Y/n exclaims with thuds and Lando’s laughter following before she appears looking tearful making Max stop his own laughter to look at her in the same way a parent looks at a toddler who is hurt. “Max! Lando is laughing at me because…I fell out the taxi and-and at the club.”

“Lando, you horrible boyfriend. Don’t be so mean.” Max scolds just playing into it before he holds out his hand. “Are you hurt?”

“Yes, I’m bleeding!”

“Oh no. Lando, can you be a good boyfriend for once and actually take care of your girlfriend?” Max questions making Lando’s jaw drop since they both know Lando is one of the most tentative boyfriends. Max looks at her grazed plans which are actually bloodier than his expected while she seems to feel the pain set in. Eyes tearing up and lip quivering as he inspects the damage. “It’s alright, it’s not that bad.”

“It really hurts.” Y/n states with a wobbly voice thick as she tries to not cry on camera since she knows they’re on live but from hearing her voice like that Lando visibly grows concerned.

“Come on, baby. I’ll clean you up.” Lando states making her turn, lip jutted before she moves over as he shoots Max a look then guiding her out the room.

Lando takes her to the bathroom sitting her on the closed toilet lid before he smiles at her.

“Did you have a good time, baby? What happened to the rest of the girls?” Lando asks softly while cleaning up the blood from her palms and noting the fact he knees need a clean up too. But when he mentions the rest of the girls she was supposed to be with, she begins hiccuping and crying. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong? What is it?”

“I went to the bathroom and when I came out they were gone. Then I realised I’d lost my phone and my whole bag! So I went to security and they called me a taxi.” Y/n explains making Lando’s stomach drop. “I-I need to tell the bank to cancel my cards and block my phone.”

“Alright, we’re going to get it all sorted but it’s late so we need to wait for tomorrow ok?” Lando assures her then gently kissing her cleaned up palms. “Better?”

Y/n nods before smiling when Lando stands up to kiss her forehead.

“Better?”

“Yeah, better.” She nods then sighing softly as he moves over and picks up her toothbrush. After putting toothpaste on it he moves over and gently opens her mouth, pushing her jaw down before beginning to brush her teeth for her, much to her amusement.

“I don’t trust you to do it properly.” Lando states making her pout for a moment before helping to coordinate it for him.

He keeps brushing making sure he reaches all needed areas before he grabs a cup for her to spit in. “Ok, I need a bit of help with the skincare steps. I know how picky you are.”

“No. Not tonight, just get me a cloth and rub it off.” She mutters shaking her head while he laughs a little.

“We have to do some of it. Your sober self will be mad with both of us if we don’t.”

Y/n only grumbles before he moves over getting a cloth to really get the thick of her make up off and to just get her skin kind of wet. Then following up with cleanser since in a more sober state she has talked him through the skincare routine when he’s helped with it.

“We left Max.” Y/n murmurs as he gently rubs the cleaner around her face trying to focus on not missing a spot.

“He’ll survive. He’s probably spilling all the gossip about us.” Lando jokes while y/n breaks into a smile. “Are you feeling ok? Not feeling sick or anything?”

“I think I need food and water. We were meant to go get pizzas after we finished for the night but we didn’t.” She pouts earning a nod from him.

“I think you need some food and water too. What sounds good?”

“I just want a sandwich.”

“Ok. We’ll finish up in here and get you a sandwich.” Lando smiles earning a slightly dopey grin in return.

Lando gets her wait in bed while he finds the biggest bottle of water he has and makes her a sandwich. “Ok, water and a sandwich-“

It was definitely optimistic to expect her to be awake, but he is a little sad the sandwich will go uneaten. He instead he puts the water down and finds a bucket, just incase she is sick, and heads back to see Max.

“Hey, mate. How’s she doing?” Max asks still on live but knowing Lando has been gone for the better part of an hour now.

“Lost her phone and bag, lost the girls entirely and had to get security to call her a taxi…but I’ve cleaned her up, didn’t manage to get her to eat anything but I left some water there. No way she’s going to remember any of that in the morning but I just figured I’d come let you know that I’m going to go to sleep too. Just wanted to check, you’re staying here right?”

“Yeah, yeah. If that’s alright.” Max nods getting a thumbs up and a quick hug. Then Lando leaves, only just catching his friend’s last words. “He is very cute with her. Never seen my boy so hooked on someone, he’s obsessed with her but in the best way. I mean he just loves her.”

-

Y/n wakes up with the overwhelming ache of her hangover feeling like she fell down a flight of stairs.

“Easy.” Lando soothes making her head whip around far too fast for her eyes to cope making her clamp them closed and groan. “You were a mess-“

“Don’t. God. Please don’t.” Y/n whines shaking her head then hiding herself in the pillow while feeling Lando’s arms wrap around her. “Where’s my phone?”

“I wish I knew, you came back bloody and in tears after a taxi drive dropped you off. Told me you went to the bathroom and came out, had lost the girls, and your bag had disappeared. We’ll need to sort all that out today when you’re ready.” Lando hums while gently rubbing her back.

“Oh fuck. Fucking hell.” Y/n groans then hiccuping, clearly the hangover adding to her emotions while he kisses her temple a couple times just letting her have the moment because really it’s an easy. “I’m so stupid. The girls are probably worried sick.”

“I text a couple of them to let them know you were home and with me.” Lando assures her since he did make sure to let them know that she was safe and no wandering around without anyone else there.

“What a disaster.” Y/n sighs then looking at her hands and grimacing. “Oh christ, how much did I fall over?”

“I don’t know, but I know it was enough that you needed some serious cleaning up.” Lando chuckles then pulling her hands over and almost repeating last night’s actions as he kisses her palms. “You were caught on live pouting to Max when you came in.”

“Poor Max.”

“Ah he loves you. Although it was like watching a parent with a toddler.”

It takes another couple hours and a few litres of water, but eventually she is up getting up and showering off the night before while Lando moves out to find Max awake eating a bowl of cereal he must’ve found while Lando and y/n were still in bed.

“How’s the princess?” Max asks making Lando sighs gently sitting down as he looks at his best friend.

“She’s feeling the after effects of alcohol. Still need to call the bank and block her cards and her phone.” Lando shrugs then tilting his head in gesture of her. “She’s having a shower now.”

“Well, I just wanted to see you guys before I headed out. I’m glad she’s ok, I thought I might wake up to find a note saying you were taking her to the hospital for alcohol poisoning with the state she was in.” Max jokes though he did genuinely think there was a chance with that.

“Ah, Maxie!” Y/n gasps when she appears looking damp but cleaned up in a pair of shorts and a stolen sweater from Lando. “I’m sorry for interrupting the live.”

“No, it’s fine. I think everyone does believe that you’re using Lando to get to me though.” Max sighs while she sits down on Lando’s lap, her hand going up to his hair immediately while he smirks a little at the comment of her liking Max but she doesn’t even seem to have a second thought about it. “Too bad I’m taken.”

“Oh yeah, I’m devastated. I’ll just have to settle for Lando.” Y/n hums sarcastically before they all burst out laughing. “Oh shit, uhh…baby, can I borrow your phone please?”

“Yes. Of course you can.” Lando smiles then pulling his hand from his pocket before he hands it to her.

“Thank you. I’ll try and be quick.” Y/n mumbles before taking off to another room so she doesn’t interrupt the boys.

Lando and Max end up talking about something for a while but it’s not long later than there’s a suddenly loud bang and a curse from y/n that follows, and unbeknownst to her it makes Lando literally jump up to his feet.

“I’m fine! It’s fine, I just-I dropped your phone but it’s fine! Nothing is broken, it landed on my foot!” Y/n exclaims while Max laughs shaking his head as Lando seems to consider still going through to check she’s ok.

“What?” Lando questions finally sitting back down.

“Just I think you’ve found the girl you’re going to marry and you don’t even seem to know it.” Max shrugs innocently while Lando looks at him in shock for a moment. There was a few things he expected from his friend but the suggestion of marriage was not one of them. “Oh come on, don’t act like I’m wrong.”

“I really never even thought about it.” Lando states now not being able to think about anything else.

A few minutes later and y/n reappears sitting back down on Lando’s lap as she had before, handing Lando his phone back. Lando is silent just taking a moment to admire his girlfriend while y/n rambles about what she’s going to have to do to get everything figured out for IDs and cards along with replacing her handbag and everything else that was in it. The easiest thing to replace seems to be her phone.

Neither notice Max capturing the moment that he intends to keep for the wedding day or when they have a kid. Whichever comes first.

“But essentially everything is sorted.” Y/n explains with a soft smile finally looking at Lando before frowning. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing. I’m just glad you got everything figured out.” Lando shrugs as she grins and leans down to kiss him. “How are you feeling?”

“Uhh…better much better, but I could still use another nap just to really recover properly.” Y/n hums while shuffling down to mould herself against him. “Can I nap here?”

“Yeah, I’ve got no plans.” Lando smiles before raising his hand to Max with his middle finger up since he’s noticed they’re being recorded.

“I’ll leave the two of you to it. See you later.” Max states standing up while Lando hums and y/n grins at him, none the wiser to the video that was just captured of them. “Feel better, y/n. Don’t be mean to her, Lando.”

“I’m never mean.” Lando argues immediately as y/n sends his friend a small wave.

FBI

Characters: Kelly Severide x Reader, half of firehouse 51

Warnings: Brief mentions of a crime idk.

Summary: This wasn't exactly what they were thinking when an fbi agent strolled into their firehouse.

A/N: I had such a nice plan for this little beauty but then I messed up and then I remembered I had homework due tomorrow that I haven't done so please enjoy this ugly piece of writing. Kinda don't want to publish this but I need to feed you lot before I get swamped in holiday homework.

"Hey, I'm looking for a Kelly Severide."

You said, asking the first person you found. It was your first time in the firehouse and this definitely wasn't how you planned it to be but you could make this work.

"Lieutenant Kelly Severide?" The woman rose her brow, her voice coming across as soft as she looked. You couldn't deny she was pretty and taking into account her blonde hair and the word paramedic on her uniform caused your brows to rise ever so slightly.

"Oh! You must be Sylvie Brett." You smiled, holding out your hand for the paramedic to shake which she did with much confusion and slight fear. "Agent Y/N Y/L/N."

"You work for the fbi." She stated, fidgeting with her fingers once your hands were released. It was clear she was shocked and you could understand why; your gun in its holster, your shiny golden badge and the bold yellow letters printed on the back of your government issued jacket.

"Yes I do." You replied with a tight lipped smile, annoyed that your job was the first impression everyone at the firehouse would be getting from you; these men and women were family to Kelly and greeting them for the first time ever in your uniform wasn't what you wanted.

Before Sylvie could fully shake off her shock, someone butted into the conversation, having spotted and recognising you.

"Y/N, you're back." Matt smiled, his arms wide inviting your for a hug which you immediately accepted. The captain was the one person in Kelly's life that knew of your existence since there was no hiding you from his roomate, especially since your stay became more permanent.

The hug was what caught everyone's attention. Sylvie talking to someone was normal but Matt hugging a stranger wasn't, hence all the heads turning and when all their eyes widened, you weren't surprised.

"Feds." Two men whispered in sync upon laying eyes on you, the others stood out of their seats and came around to you in the middle of the common room.

"What do the feds want with us now?" One man asked, crossing his arms with an attitude that you could smell from a mile away. Maybe it was his accent or it could've been his snarky tone which got him a quick reprimand from the captain but you knew his name.

"Christopher Herrmann, right?" You pointed at him, your smile brightening when he did a double take at the name you guessed correct.

"It's probably creepy that I know all your names and I really wished that we could've met under better circumstances but I will explain everything." You said, sheepishly smiling at the very confused group of firefighters.

"Y/N! What are you doing here?" Kelly noticed you from afar, it was hard not to recognise the three yellow letter the second he turned the corner.

Within seconds, Kelly enveloped you into his arms and despite the reputation that you wanted to maintain, you folded and accepted the hug, wrapping your arms around his waist, contently inhaling the comforting scent that always followed your boyfriend.

"Okay I'm sorry but who are you?"

"Agent Y/N Y/L/N." You replied automatically, not even thinking about leaving out the agent. Biting the inside of your lip, you internally cursed at yourself.

"She's my girlfriend." Kelly smirked, his arm happily resting across your shoulders where he could keep you close to him. "Whose actually supposed to be in Texas right about now, what happened?"

"Everything's fine. We apprehended our guy earlier than expected and there might've been a gunfight and there's a small possibility I was in the middle but a graze is nothing." You said with ease since it was your job and you loved everything it entailed but to your crowd, you seemed like a lunatic and a hero combined in one.

"You're kidding." Kelly looked down at you in concern, his heart rate picking up at the mere thought of you getting hurt, even if you brushed it off as a papercut.

Before you could explain further that a graze inflicted zero pain, a man you could name purely based off the aura that surrounded him entered the common room.

"Agent, what can we do for you?" The tallest man came forward and asked, his hands shaking yours before they were on his hips. From his stance and the way his voice was so gentle but commandeering made it easy for you to deduce his position in the firehouse; it also helped that Kelly continuously boasted about the men and women of 51.

"I'm sorry for interrupting your day chief." You firstly apologised, sheepishly smiling at the firefighters who were shocked at Kelly's arm still wrapped around your waist. "I need nothing but a few minutes with lieutenant Severide and I'll be out your hair."

"Don't be silly." Kelly shook his head, looking down at you with a slight frown. "Why don't you stay for lunch, you can't just appear out of nowhere and not eat with us."

"I have so much paperwork I left behind. My boss will have my throat if they're not done." You tried fighting Kelly but he looked at you with such big eyes that you wanted to drown yourself in and a slight pout was making itself known and before you knew it, you were caving in.

"Alright, just a few bites and then I have to go."

It was safe to say, some feds were okay.

★ MASTERLIST

it's nice to have a friend lando is one of your closest friends… until he sleeps with you and ghosts you. part one ★ part two ★ part three ★ part four ★ part five ★ part six ★ part seven ★ part eight ★ part nine ★ part ten ★ part eleven ★ part twelve ★ part thirteen ★ part fourteen ★ part fifteen ★ part sixteen ★ part seventeen ★ part eighteen ★ part nineteen ★ part twenty ★ part twenty one ★ part twenty two ★ part twenty three ★ part twenty four ★ part twenty five ★ part twenty six ★ part twenty seven ★ part twenty eight ★ part twenty nine ★ part thirty ★ part thirty one ★ part thirty two ★ part thirty three

bonus written parts: bonus part one

Hi there! I just found your blog and I’ve been binge reading everything 😅 it’s soooo good!

Could I request a Charlos x pregnant!reader threesome fic? Maybe she’s about 5 months along and insatiably horny lol 🫣 and at some point Charles eats her out while she cockwarms Carlos and they just tease her a lot and overstimulate her. Thanks!!❤️

Charles and Carlos categorically refused to fuck you, because they were terrified (bless them) of somehow harming the baby.  

This lasted almost five whole months before they cracked. 

Warnings: smut, fluff, cock warming, oral, face sitting, mention of sex-tapes, anal (mxm) bottom carlos, top charles, some pregnancy jargon cus I added a load of fluffy plot, not proofread

You were coming up to your 18 week check up, and despite the doctor telling you that sex was fine as long as it wasn’t too rough or exhausting, they were adamant. Paranoid even. 

No sex until after the baby comes. You were spiteful, and assured them they wouldn’t last nine months, and they were stubborn, countering with the fact that they could get each other off if they got needy. 

So that’s how it went, when you were out, they’d fuck.  

And you thought it was only fair that when you were alone in the house, you got to have some fun on your own. 

That system worked perfectly well for four months. 

Carlos had come back early and found you like that, spread out and exposed on the couch. His cock twitched in his pants at the sight of your fingers pumping in and out of you obscenely. 

That is, until Carlos accidentally walked in on you one day, getting off to something on your phone while they were supposed to be out on errands. 

You didn’t even care at this point, you just looked at him meanly and said something along the lines of “Well how am I supposed to get off if you and Charles refuse to do it, hmm?” 

So he leaned against the doorframe and watched you, with a sly smirk. If you’d been doing this the whole time, then maybe it wasn’t harmful after all. 

He watched you writhe in pleasure, back arching and fingers rubbing harsh circles on your clit as you reached your peak. 

“Want to know what I was watching?” your devilish smile drew him in, he was intrigued for sure. 

Carlos had to admit, it was intoxicating. 

He knew what it was as soon as he caught a glimpse of the screen. He groaned and rolled his eyes, sitting next to you on the couch. 

“Our sex tape? You are going to kill me, amor” he smiled, giving you a sweet peck on the cheek as you giggled. 

“I’m barely half way through you know...” you purred, leaning into him “Do you want to watch the rest with me?” 

He bit his lip, thinking about the rest of the video and how he riled up he knew would get if he did watch it with you. 

“Okay, but I want you on my lap and my cock inside you, no moving” 

Your breath hitched, surprised that he gave in so quickly, and you quickly got into position. The feeling of his cock sliding into you for the first time in nearly five months was insane. You whimpered, leaning your head back on his shoulder as you slumped into his chest. 

“Come on, baby. Let’s watch it.” he teased, fingers running along your inner thighs and teasing your folds “or are you too distracted now?” 

You could hear the satisfied smirk in his voice. 

That’s how Charles found you. 

You grabbed your phone and clenched purposefully around him, making him grunt. “We’ll see who’s fucking distracted...” 

You’d managed to connect your phone to the TV, and it was playing a different sex-tape to the one before. This one was on Charles’ yacht and he recognised the noises instantly all the way down the hall, which led him to almost trip up in his haste to get to the source of the sound. 

That’s when he saw you, writhing on Carlos’s cock while the older man played with your clit lazily. 

“Well this is a surprise” he laughed “what is the occasion?” 

“Our girl was feeling needy” Carlos responded smoothly, “I caught her watching our tapes. We seem to have been neglecting her” 

Charles came over to you, kneeling between your legs and batted Carlos' hand away. 

“Well we'd better make it up to you” he muttered breathlessly, looking up at you with that infuriating smirk. 

He leaned in and licked over the base of Carlos' cock, up to your clit and you let out a choked moan. 

“So sensitive” he swirled his tongue around your clit teasingly and Carlos tensed when he felt you flutter around him. 

“I think she's close, Charles” he gasped. 

Charles could hear the strain in his voice, and he didn't blame him. 

His cock was buried in your cunt after being denied it for months, so it was understandable that he would be just as much on edge as you were. 

So Charles took it upon himself to make you both come with his mouth. 

And he knew exactly how to unravel you both. 

He focused on you first, getting you right to the edge, tightening around Carlos as he squirmed under you. 

He then went lower, flattening his tongue to stimulate Carlos' cock before running it over the older man's balls. 

That got a reaction out of him. 

His hips jolted as he moaned, tightening his hold on your hips and that made you whimper and buck your own. 

The two of you were so sensitive it only took a few more passes of his tongue before you were coming around Carlos, and while you milked him, Charles sucked a finger into his mouth and slipped it into Carlos' exposed hole. 

The pornographic moans coming from both you and Carlos were music to his ears as he carried on until you were trembling in overstimulation. 

He got to two fingers inside Carlos before the older man had regained enough brain cells to ask him what he was doing. 

“You are going to clean your cum out of her, while I come inside you” he declared nonchalantly. 

“Charles…” you panted “I don't know if I can do another one” 

He chuckled “Of course you can, Carlos needs to make up for the last few months” 

He pulled his fingers out and helped you reposition yourselves, with Carlos laying down and you hovering over his face, his cum already dripping down your thighs. 

Carlos wasted no time devouring you, and given that you were facing Charles, you could see the hunger in his eyes as he stared right at you while thrusting into Carlos. 

You leaned in to kiss him, and it quickly turned sloppy when he lost himself in feeling of Carlos clenching around him. 

You whined in overstimulation as you approached your third orgasm, and you reached up to pull Charles' head back by his hair roughly. 

You could see the arousal in his expression as he growled at the rough treatment (that you knew he loved). 

“Fuck him harder” you muttered against his lips and he smirked before slamming into Carlos even harder than before. 

The older man groaned between your thighs, the vibration getting you even closer, so you glanced down at his leaking cock, and took it into your hand to help him along. 

It didn't take long for any of you to come. 

Later, while you all cuddled in bed after a nice long shower, Carlos stroked your growing belly and asked “When is your next check up?” 

You hadn't been in this kind of situation for months and you realised you had missed it more than you thought as you all groaned and moaned into each other as the waves of your respective highs crashed over you. 

You squeezed his hand and giggled at Charles's face, which was squished into the pillows next to you while he snored gently. 

“In a few days, why?” 

Early on in the pregnancy they announced that they didn’t want to know the sex of the baby. Which was fine. 

But you did. So you just agreed with them that you would always go alone, or at least until you weren’t able to do so anymore. 

“Just wondering” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your cheek “Will you finally get to know what the baby will be?” 

You bit your lip nervously. 

A little secret had been eating away at you for some time now. 

You didn't know the sex yet, because at your last check up the doctor couldn't tell yet. 

But what they could tell, and what you had known for a while, was that there was more than one baby inside you. 

You were having twins. 

And with all three of you having busy schedules, you'd never really found the time or energy to sit them down and tell them about it. 

But after this check up, it was time. You could always bullshit and say that you didn't know before, given that they'd never been with you and they probably didn't know much about pregnancy dates anyway. 

“Yeah, I will. Do you want me to tell you, then?” 

“No… I want it to be a surprise” 

You huffed out a giggle.  

Yeah… he was going to get a surprise on Friday no matter what. 

Friday came, and the sex was revealed. 

… 

Or rather… sexes. 

You cried (of happiness) when the doctor told you. You already knew you were having fraternal twins, but… 

A boy and a girl. You were elated. 

And as if that wasn't enough news. There was something else. 

The doctor told you about something called heteropaternal superfecundation. 

It all sounded greek to you, but apparently with fraternal twins, it was possible for them to have two different fathers. 

The doctor knew about your… relationship situation, and told you it was rare, but possible, and that you might like to know and maybe tell Charles and Carlos about it. 

You were so excited, you rushed home and waited. You sat on the couch patiently and sent a text in your three-way group chat. 

“I have some (good) news for you when you get home” 

Charles got home first, and sat down next to you, leg bouncing as he tried to contain his excitement. 

“Do you know the sex?” 

“Yup” you teased. 

“And that's not the big news?” 

“Nope” you took a sip of water. 

Carlos arrived, slightly less excited because he was confused about your message. 

“How can you have news that's not the sex? Is something wrong with the baby?” 

You shushed him before he could go any further, and beckoned him over to sit next to Charles on the couch. 

“That's the first piece of news” you started calmly “There's nothing wrong with the baby, but… it's not a baby. It's two babies” 

Their jaws dropped and they screeched. 

“TWINS?”  

“OH MY GOD”  

“WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US?!” 

“WE ARE HAVING FUCKING TWINS?!” 

“TWO BABIES!!!” 

You laughed as they jumped off the couch to hug you tightly. 

“But what's the second piece of news?” Charles asked once they had calmed down a bit. 

“Well… first of all, they are fraternal twins. So there's that”  

They blinked and you giggled at their clueless expressions. 

“You know, like they're not real twins. Not identical” 

They nodded slowly. You could feel the tension as they waited for your next sentence. 

“Which means there is a tiny, miniscule chance…” 

Charles eyes widened a fraction as he understood what you were about to say. 

“That they could be from different fathers” 

Carlos gasped. 

Charles just slumped backwards on the couch in shock. 

They were at a loss for words. 

You took a deep breath. 

“Charles, Carlos. Do you want to know the sex?” 

You knew Charles did, but was holding back because Carlos thought it was bad luck to know before the birth. 

But you'd softened them up with the previous news so Charles caved immediately, and Carlos took a minute to mull it over before the excitement got to him, and he agreed. 

You took their hands in yours and smiled at them, biting your lip in excitement. 

“It's a boy and a girl” you rushed out and they both started screaming again with tears in their eyes. 

They jumped up and started hugging as they bounced around the room, yelling in excitement. 

You watched them, giggling at their antics as they essentially got the zoomies for 5 good minutes before you could get another word in. 

A few years later, you thought back to that night, and the reaction that the two men had had. The pure joy and excitement.

… 

You were at the beach during summer break, having a cocktail on a sun lounger while the kids played in the water, supervised by their dads. 

After a while you called them over for a snack, and watched as each of your boyfriends picked up a child and carried them over. 

Even during the pregnancy, you knew in your heart that you were carrying both of their kids even though it couldn’t be confirmed at the time. 

But now as you looked at them it was painfully obvious. 

In Charles' arms was a little boy, with tanned skin and deep brown eyes, that always giggled at all of his dad's silly jokes. 

You'd carried them in your womb for nine months, making you suffer, and they turned out to be the spitting images of their fucking fathers. 

And in Carlos' arms, a little girl with lighter hair, and the most beautiful ocean eyes you'd ever seen. 

he made all of these

one of my favourite tweets ever😭

yuki gasly | PG10

PAIRING: pierre gasly x wife!reader

platonic yuki tsunoda x gasly!reader + yuki tsunoda x pierre gasly

REQUESTED: [] yes [X] no

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

SYNOPSIS: having recently gotten married to the love of your life, it wasn’t surprising that your parents were asking for grandchildren. and while pierre and yourself were open to the idea of having a baby, neither of you was expecting to have one so soon. much less in the form of a 5’2 japanese driver. OR the four times you and pierre baby the hell out of yuki and call him your son, and the one time yuki caves and calls you his parents.

WARNINGS: absolute fluff, soooo yuki centric and i am not sorry at all, yuki being the babiest baby that ever babied, pierre and reader being the best parents ever, i literally cried writing the end of this so uh be prepared for tears?

six months ago, if asked, you would have said that you and pierre were happy to roll with life’s punches and that if a baby was one of those punches, you would gladly accept it. now, you’d argue that you and pierre were already parents, and your baby was none other than pierre’s teammate, yuki tsunoda.

in the year working up to your wedding with the frenchman, you had heard pierre gush about his teammate and how cute he was every time they were in the same vicinity. 

it was always, “mon amour, today, yuki was eating a fruit cup for a snack and he looked like a little baby. his cheeks were all puffed up with the fruits. it was adorable, i will send you the picture i took,” or, “y/n, you will not believe what yuki said today! we were filming for youtube, and one of the questions was how do dogs bark in both french and japanese, right? oh, it was so funny, you have to watch it when it comes out. you will see what i mean.” 

and as much as your fiance had talked about the young japanese boy, it wasn’t until your wedding that you properly met him, having only said a quick hi, or waved, as you saw him around the paddock. you had been a busy woman, having been left to deal with most of the wedding preparations while pierre drove his little racecar around the track. 

pierre had been absolutely ecstatic to properly acquaint the two of you together. just as yuki had been the subject of your conversations with pierre, you had been the subject of theirs. pierre would ramble for hours about some date night the two of you shared years ago, or how he knew he wanted to marry you when you wiped his face with your napkin after your second date.

yeah, you had always been a nurturing person. being the oldest in your family, you were used to looking after people. it was as if second nature to you. in friend groups, you were always the mom friend, and if anyone ever needed something, it was more than likely you were carrying it in your bag.

so when you finally got to properly meet yuki at your wedding and interact with him, it wasn’t a surprise that, much like your husband, you had immediately taken to the boy, finding his every action plain adorable.

the days of pierre calling you to talk about yuki were now replaced with you calling pierre to ask him to give the phone to yuki because he wasn’t replying to the texts you sent him. instead of cuddling up to pierre and refusing to let go on the mornings he would need to go to work, you were now asking to join pierre on his trips to alpha tauri’s headquarters, hoping to make a pitstop at yuki’s place to spend some time with the boy.

anyone and everyone on the grid could tell that the gasly couple had basically adopted yuki. your love for the boy had reached as far as yuki’s own family, who had reached out to the two of you, sending well wishes and gratitude for caring for their boy. to pierre, that meant that yuki’s parents had passed on the torch to himself and his wife, dubbing the two of you as yuki’s grid parents.

— one

the first time you joined pierre for a grand prix as his wife had been the first race of the season, your wedding having occurred during the off-season. 

the moment you stepped foot onto the paddock, you tugged pierre towards the alpha tauri motorhome, on the hunt for a certain japanese boy. your husband had laughed at your excitement but didn’t say anything, happy to help you reunite with the younger driver.

“yuki!” the second you saw him, you were running as fast as you could. the driver’s eyes widened at the sight of your figure rushing at him at an alarming pace, pushing off from where he had been leaning against the motorhome.

you wrapped your arms around yuki’s neck, squeezing him as tight as you possibly could. you had not seen yuki since the pre-testing in spain, which hadn’t been too long ago, but you had missed the shy boy greatly. 

from a few feet away, pierre couldn’t help but smile as he watched yuki’s expression of shock turn into one of embarrassment. their eyes met and pierre let out a loud laugh at the slight fear in yuki’s eyes. having just barely gotten used to pierre’s blatant and obvious affection towards himself, yuki had struggled to not shy away from the new addition of yours.

“touch is her main love language,” pierre had explained to him at his wedding, watching the dark-haired boy blush a bright red after you gave him a hug and a soft smile, “and hugs are her favourite way to express it.”

in a way, yuki was, of course, honoured to have been on the receiving end of your love. but with your love language being touch, and his being, well, he had no idea what his love language was, he couldn’t help but dread when your arms reached out for him.

or at least, that’s what he told himself when his heart fluttered, and warmth spread in his chest.

“my son, oh how i’ve missed you these past few weeks.” you pulled away from yuki with a small pout. your eyes wandered to his hair, your hand automatically moving to fix the hair that had moved during your one-sided hug.

yuki gave you a small smile, taking a step back when your hands dropped, “hello, y/n, it’s nice to see you again!”

pierre joined the two of you, hand slapping down lightly on his teammate’s shoulder before pulling him into a side hug, “salut, mon fils.” hello, my son.

a cheeky smile was plastered on your husband’s face when he noticed the cameras that were turned your way. he snaked an arm around your waist and pulled you to the other side of his body, “it’s a family reunion!” he yelled out to the photographers, waving with the hand resting on top of yuki’s shoulder.

the colour of yuki’s face could rival that of charles’ ferrari. in fact, you and pierre would argue that maybe yuki’s cheeks were even redder than the monégasque’s car. 

he brought his hands up to cover his red face, “i am not your son.”

— two

yuki simultaneously loved and hated when you came to race weekends. he loved your presence, don’t get him wrong, and pierre always performed a little better with his wife watching him from the garage, which was great for the team, but, he hated–despised, even–when the two gaslys would pair up to shower him with both attention and affection.

if it wasn’t you nagging at him to eat before he began his media duties on thursday morning, then it was pierre, constantly ruffling his hair and squishing his face, wedding band always ice cold against his cheek.

if your love language was touch, then pierre’s was touch but in the most annoying way possible. the media always ate it up, though.

currently, yuki had been sitting at a table in the alpha tauri motorhome, one hand scrolling through his instagram’s explorer page, the other stabbing blindly at the salad he was having for lunch.

it all happened so fast. one second, he was holding his phone. the next, his phone had been replaced with a water bottle. and there you are, making yourself comfy in the seat across from him, his phone sat snug in your hand.

“you need to stay hydrated, kiki,” you frowned at the boy across from you, “especially in this weather, i don’t want you dehydrated while you’re driving.”

kiki. you had started calling him that not long after the first grand prix of the season. you’d been testing out nicknames for him, and for some reason, of all the nicknames possible, kiki had been the one to stick.

“i won’t be dehydrated, y/n,” yuki put the bottle onto the table, only for it to be placed in his hand again, this time by pierre.

“i’ve already had this argument with her,” pierre sat down next to yuki, “and lost.” 

in his own hands were two bottles of water, one of which he slid towards you across the table. you smiled, “you can’t win against me, mon coeur.”

 yuki sighed, ultimately deciding not to argue on this. he twisted the bottle cap, faltering slightly when it wouldn’t open. his eyes flitted up to you, looking to see if you noticed. you hadn’t.

when he confirmed that your eyes were focused on pierre, his returning the favour, he turned back to the bottle in his hand. he gripped it a bit harder this time, twisting a bit more aggressively this time. still, the cap did not budge.

before he could try again, a hand reached out–pierre’s–and grabbed the bottle out of his hands. in one swift motion, the bottle was uncapped. yuki stared at the bottle for a second, then pierre, who looked like he hadn’t even batted an eye, still looking at you and listening to whatever you had been talking about. 

realizing the bottle hadn’t been taken back, pierre looked at yuki, who was now staring back at the bottle in disbelief. pierre gestured the bottle forward, breaking yuki’s glare. 

the younger boy reached for the bottle, “i loosened it for you.”

“sure, you did.” pierre patted yuki on the back, the smile wide on his face.

“i swear i did!” yuki straightened up in his seat.

“i don’t see a lot of drinking, kiki.” your eyes narrowed at yuki who instantly slouched in his seat, finally taking a sip of his water.

later, yuki found himself standing next to pierre at the back of the garage, balaclava in his hand, “...thanks,” he looked at pierre, “...for the water bottle earlier.”

pierre placed his helmet on his head, sliding the visor up. with a slap on the back, pierre was off, “anything for my son.”

— three

okay, so maybe pierre wasn’t the only one who drove better whenever you visited the paddock. so far, every race you had been to had lead to both alpha tauri drivers finishing in the points. 

this weekend felt different, though. better than all of the other race weekends. you had been extra excited for this race, and extremely confident that both drivers would get good results, maybe even a win.

“you’ve got quite the pep in your step, mon coeur,” pierre wrapped his arm around your waist, lips pressing against your temple in a quick kiss, “what did our lovely yuki do now?”

yuki, who had been standing not too far from the two of you, looked up at the sound of his name, “did you call for me?”

you gave him a smile, “no, you’re good, ki.” 

he nodded, going back to scrolling his phone. 

pierre looked down at you, squeezing your waist lightly, “well, if it’s not yuki, what is it?”

you smiled at him, hands overlapping his, “call it a mother’s intuition.”

pierre felt like he was back in his ice bath. he turned to face you, “you’re serious?”

your eyes watered slightly, and you nodded, “i went to the doctor’s office before i flew out and they confirmed it there.”

pierre’s eyes shined with unshed tears, the expression on his face so vulnerable and sweet, “we’re going to have a baby?”

a tear slipped down your face, “yes, mon amour,” you moved his hand from your waist and to your belly, “they’re right here.”

pierre rested his forehead against yours, tears slipping from behind his closed eyes. when he opened them again, he smiled widely, “thank you, ange. i’ll win this race for you. both of you.”

after a sweet kiss, pierre was whisked away, helmet over his head, as he settled into his car. he was going to be a father.

the lights went out in paul richard, and the checkered flag was pulled out in what felt like a blink of an eye. the alpha tauri garage was cheering the loudest they had in the entire season.

he had done it. they had both done it.

pierre had won the france grand prix, just like he said he would. and yuki came in third, first podium of his formula one career.

you watched your two boys from the crowd below, throwing a small nod to pierre when he looked down at you with a questioning look.

and there, on that podium that the two shared, pierre looked at yuki and smiled, “you’re gonna be a big brother, yuki.”

— four

it’s safe to say that after pierre’s reveal, yuki was much more lenient and willing to take part in your little family act. although he would never reveal it to either of you. he didn’t need to, anyway. the two of you had noticed the second yuki smiled instead of refusing that he was their child.

it was now summer vacation, and your bump had only just started showing. something that pierre could not stop gushing about to both yuki and charles, who had joined the two of you on your trip to greece.

both men had shrugged it off, alas, no one knew your body as well as pierre, and if he said you were showing, then good for you. but yuki was a lot more attentive to you, like you had been to him ever since your wedding with his teammate.

thirsty? yuki was there with a water bottle, reminiscent of all those months ago when you had gotten one for him. 

hungry? yuki was more than happy to go get you something from that french bakery across the street, knowing full well that he could not pronounce a single word on their menu.

you’d been eternally grateful for yuki, constantly telling him such when he would help you out. his cheeks would redden but the smile on his face would never slip. he was more than happy to return the kindness you had shown him.

currently, the five of you–charles, his girlfriend, yuki, pierre and yourself–were sitting in a dimly lit restaurant, waiting for your food to arrive.

you sat in between the two alpha tauri drivers, smiling and laughing at the banter between your husband and yuki.

when the whole grid parents situation had started, charles had found it absolutely hilarious that pierre was treating a man younger than him by only four years like his adopted son. but as the months went by, and as charles watched the three of you interact from across the table, he couldn’t help but notice the way yuki’s eyes shined with awe and admiration, and most of all, respect, as he stared at the two of you.

“they look like a real family, don’t they?” charles’ attention was drawn by his girlfriend.

he hummed, “yuki might not admit it, but i can see how much he looks up to pierre. to y/n, too.” 

and it was true. over the last few years, yuki had seen pierre go from just another driver, to a man in love, to one who was married, and now, a man who was ready to be a father. 

although not much younger than you or  pierre, yuki had a lot to learn, and he couldn’t have been more grateful to have both pierre gasly and y/n gasly as his role models and safety net.

that night, as he watched pierre fuss over whether or not you were eating enough red meat for the baby, yuki was sure that you and pierre would be the best parents in the world. 

— + one

the atmosphere was tense, the garage silent as they watched the alpha tauri car lead the race.

“he’s gonna do it,” your fingers messed with the pendant around your neck, “he’s really gonna do it.”

two arms found their way around you, hands flat against your visible bump, “he is.”

you dropped your necklace, opting to grip your husband’s hands as you listened to the radio. 

“okay, yuki. this pace is really, really good. you’ve got three more laps. push, push.”

“okay.” his response was short. understandable, he couldn’t afford to lose focus. not now.

“two laps left.”

the pit board lit up in response, indicating that he heard them. 

another lap. this was it, the final lap. you squeezed pierre’s hands tightly. all of this stress couldn’t be good for the baby but in this moment, you couldn’t keep yourself from watching.

it felt like hours, watching his car turn the final corner. the team running to congratulate yuki’s position. the cheers filled the garage once more, just as loud as the ones in france.

“that is p1, yuki. p1. congratulations, kid, you won the race.”

you didn’t realize you were crying until pierre wiped the tears streaming down your face. you looked at your husband with blurry eyes, “he did it, pierre.”

“we always knew he could.”

as you listened to yuki’s excited cheers, you couldn’t help but cry some more.

he had done it. 

his first win in formula one. 

after what had felt like the longest race of his life, the celebrations couldn’t have come faster. as he stood on the top step, japanese anthem playing in the background, his eyes found you and pierre standing a bit away from the crowd, staring up at him proudly. 

he had done it.

he had made them proud.

the reporter moved on to the next question, “and do you think your relationship with your team and teammate has played a role in where you are today?”

“yeah, of course.” yuki smiled, “the alpha tauri has been supporting me for such a long time and it feels really good to win today. kind of like a sign to show that their effort has paid off. i only wish that i could have had pierre finish the race with me.”

“and how is your relationship with pierre?”

yuki chuckled, lightly shaking his head, “pierre has been the best teammate a driver could ask for. he and his wife call themselves my grid parents, and you know what? they really are. they’ve been supporting me the most this year, right up there with my actual parents.”

“i couldn’t have done this without them. my grid family.”

Thawed

Kimi Räikkönen x sunshine!Reader

Summary: the many times throughout the years that only the warmth of his wife could thaw the Iceman

“He’s just so … cold,” your aunt comments, wrinkling her nose at Kimi’s back as he heads to the bar. It’s the first time you’ve brought him to a family event.

You bristle, prepared to defend your new boyfriend. “He’s not cold once you get to know him. He’s just a private person.”

Your aunt sniffs. “Still, he barely said two words all night. And that nickname — the Iceman! I don’t like it.”

You straighten your spine. “Well I do. His thoughtfulness and loyalty outweigh any lack of words.”

As you speak, you feel your doubts about mismatched personalities fade. Opposites attract for a reason.

Your aunt looks unconvinced, but you pay her no mind. You’re falling for the quiet Finn with a heart of gold. And you won’t let anyone’s disapproval chill that flame.

When Kimi returns, you lean up and kiss his cheek fondly. He looks pleasantly surprised. Let them judge. You see the real man inside.

***

“Smash it! Smash it!” The rowdy groomsman chants as you and Kimi cut into your wedding cake.

Other guests take up the chant, clamoring for Kimi to shove cake in your face per tradition. But you had quietly asked him not to — you don’t want frosting up your nose and ruining your makeup on your wedding day.

Kimi’s eyes meet yours, a silent question. You give a slight shake of your head. His expression hardens with resolve.

In one smooth motion, he whirls and smashes the slice of cake directly into the rowdy groomsman’s face. Icing splatters everywhere. The room goes silent.

“Here you go, since you seem to want the cake smashed so bad,” Kimi says coldly.

The groomsman splutters in shock. You have to hide your smile behind your hand.

Kimi winks at you as he licks icing off his fingers. “Now, where were we?”

Heart swelling, you lean in to kiss your wonderful, cake-covered husband. No one gets in the way of your wishes on your wedding day.

***

The paddock is bustling with activity as you make your way through the crowds, weaving between mechanics and engineers going about their race day routines. The smells of rubber and gasoline hang thick in the air. You smile and nod at familiar faces, receiving knowing looks in return.

Everyone here knows who you are — the bubbly, outgoing wife of the Iceman himself. The unlikely pairing has been the talk of Formula 1 ever since you started dating a few years ago. You’re warm and chatty. He’s cool and laconic. But somehow, it works.

You find Kimi in the Ferrari motorhome, sipping an energy drink, game face on. His brows are furrowed in concentration, icy grey eyes focused straight ahead. You know not to disturb him right now. This is business time.

Slipping into the seat beside him, you pull out your phone and scroll aimlessly, letting the comfortable silence stretch between you. The hustle and noise of the paddock fades into the background.

Finally, Kimi drains the last drops from his can and crushes it in his hand. He turns to you, the stern expression melting away. His eyes soften and the corners of his mouth tick upward ever so slightly.

“Morning,” he says quietly, voice gravelly.

You beam at him. “Good morning, love. Ready to go racing today?”

He nods, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips. “Did you sleep okay?”

“I did, thanks to my very comfy race driver pillow.” You wink.

Kimi snorts, the creases around his eyes deepening. He leans in and presses a quick kiss to your temple.

Around you, mechanics and team members try and fail to pretend they aren’t glancing your way, still not used to seeing the Iceman so openly affectionate. But Kimi doesn’t seem to notice or care.

“I’ll see you after,” he says, standing up and giving your hand a squeeze. His face settles back into cool concentration as he strides out to prepare for the race.

You settle in to watch qualifying, heart swelling with pride and love for your Finnish fireball.

***

“Kimi, the stewards want to speak with you about the incident with Perez on lap 37.”

Kimi’s jaw clenches, eyes flashing. “Typical,” he mutters.

You touch his arm reassuringly. “Go on, I’ll wait here for you.”

He nods, striding off to the steward’s office, race suit half unzipped and hair disheveled. You know he’ll be lucky to escape without a penalty. Kimi has never been one to mince words or hide his displeasure with other drivers. You can only imagine the icy staredown happening behind those closed doors right now.

Twenty minutes later, he emerges looking ready to smash a table. You jump up and hurry over.

“Well? What did they say?”

Kimi’s scowl deepens, if that’s even possible. “Ten second penalty. Ridiculous.” He spits out something in Finnish you’re glad you don’t understand.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. You drove brilliantly today.”

He shakes his head and stalks down the hall towards the paddock. You scurry after him, nearly jogging to match his long angry strides.

“Forget it. Not your fault the stewards are blind.”

You slip your hand into his, lacing your fingers together. Immediately you feel some of the tension leave his body. He glances down at you, the hint of a smile breaking through the thunderclouds.

“Let’s get out of here,” you say gently. “I’ll make you your favorite dinner, open a nice bottle of wine ...”

He nods, expression softening. “Okay. Sounds good.”

You smile up at him, giving his hand a squeeze. The stormy Finn may have a heart of ice on the track, but you know better. He just needs a little sunshine sometimes.

***

You pause in the kitchen doorway, heart melting at the scene before you. Kimi sits on the living room floor, your baby niece perched happily in his lap. He bounces her gently on his knee as she squeals with delight, the hint of a smile on his usually stoic face.

“Faster Unca Kimi, faster!” She cries, unruly curls flying.

He chuckles and picks up the pace, eliciting delighted giggles from her. Your sister watches nearby, still looking a bit bemused at seeing the Iceman so good natured and playful.

Finally Kimi stops, feigning exhaustion. “Whew, that’s enough for Uncle Kimi,” he says, lifting her up and pretending to wipe sweat from his brow. “You’re too fast!”

She dissolves into giggles and wraps her tiny arms around his neck in a hug. He hugs her back, looking more content than you’ve ever seen him. Your heart feels fit to burst.

“Who wants ice cream?” You announce, carrying in two bowls.

“Me, me!” Your niece starts to squirm in Kimi’s lap, reaching eagerly for her treat.

He stands, swinging her up easily onto his shoulders. “Let’s go have ice cream on the porch, give your mama a break,” he says. She kicks her little legs gleefully.

Your sister shoots you a grateful smile as Kimi carries her outside. You grin and wink. Who would believe it — the Iceman, a big softie for kids. But you know better. Under that cool exterior beats a heart of gold.

***

The crowds pressing around the circuit are suffocating today. Fans shove programs and merch at you for Kimi to sign. One overzealous teenage boy tries to wrap you in an uninvited hug.

Suddenly Kimi is there, gently but firmly detaching the boy’s hands from your arms. His face is thunderous.

“Back. Off.” The boy stumbles away wide-eyed.

Kimi keeps a protective grip on your shoulder as he marches you briskly from the paddock. Once inside the privacy of the motorhome, he cups your face in his hands.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His tone is urgent.

You shake your head, still a bit shaken. “Just got grabby. Thank you for the rescue.”

Kimi exhales, pressing his forehead to yours. “I don’t like you getting swarmed out there.”

You smile wryly. “Hazards of being Mrs. Iceman.”

He brushes his thumb over your cheek. “I just want to keep you safe. Those crowds make me nervous.”

You kiss him softly. “I’ll be okay.”

His eyes bore into yours, icy blue melting into tenderness. “Still. Stay close to me out there from now on. So I can protect what’s most precious.”

Your heart flutters under his intent gaze. You lace your fingers through his, feeling infinitely cherished.

“Always.”

***

“Kimi, your phone is ringing again,” you call from the couch.

He doesn’t respond, gaze fixed intently on the TV as he navigates a difficult turn in his racing video game. The phone buzzes angrily on the coffee table.

With a sigh, you reach for it. The caller ID says “Bane of My Existence.” You frown. That’s the third call from her this week that he’s ignored.

“Kimi ...”

“Hmm?” He pauses the game and glances at you, eyebrows raised.

You hold up the phone. “It’s your PR officer again. Don’t you think you should answer and see what she wants?”

His expression clouds over. “No. Told her not to call me anymore.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” You keep your tone light and curious.

He shrugs. “Kept trying to get me to do stuff. Go to parties and all that.”

You bite back a smile, warmth flooding your chest. Your shy homebody of a husband, sought after on the celebrity circuit but wanting none of it.

“Well, I’m glad she hasn’t lured you away yet,” you tease gently.

The corners of his mouth quirk up as he takes the phone from you and sets it aside before pulling you into his lap.

“Don’t worry,” he rumbles, nudging your nose with his. “You’re the only party I need.”

You kiss him softly, heart overflowing. The glitz and glam means nothing to your Kimi. Home is where his heart is.

***

You awake to whispered voices and the smell of something burning. Bleary-eyed, you shuffle to the kitchen doorway.

Kimi stands at the stove, hair endearingly mussed from sleep. He’s scowling down at a frying pan, clutching a spatula like a weapon. Your brother leans against the counter, trying and failing to stifle laughter.

“What’s going on?” You ask through a yawn.

Kimi’s scowl deepens. “Trying to make you breakfast. Not going well.” He prods the blackened lump in the pan disdainfully.

Your brother snorts. “He nearly set off the fire alarm. I got here just in time.”

“I told you I don’t cook,” Kimi mutters, avoiding your gaze.

You pad over and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades. “It’s the thought that counts. Thank you, love.”

He relaxes back into your embrace. Your brother mimes gagging behind his back. You stick out your tongue at him.

“Here, I’ll show you,” you say, gently prying the spatula from Kimi’s hand. “Just go slow ...”

Soon, the three of you are gathered around the table, eating the pancakes you made together. Kimi’s are a bit misshapen, but edible.

He looks inordinately pleased as you sample his. “Good?”

You beam at him and squeeze his hand. “The very best.”

His rare unguarded smile warms you more deeply than any breakfast ever could.

***

You awaken to the dipping of the mattress as Kimi slips under the covers. The red glow of his bedside clock reads 3:48 AM.

“Everything okay?” You murmur, rolling over to face him.

He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close against his chest. You feel the steady thump of his heart under your palm.

“Yeah. Couldn’t sleep.” His voice rumbles low near your ear.

You nuzzle into him, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin. “Worrying about the race this weekend?”

He exhales, his breath stirring your hair. “No. Just thinking.”

When he doesn’t elaborate, you lift your head to study his face in the dimness. His eyes shine in the faint light, gazing at you with an intensity that makes your own heart skip.

“What is it?” You whisper.

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his callused fingers infinitely tender. “Sometimes I still can’t believe you’re here. That you’re mine.”

Emotion swells in your chest, words escaping you. You cup his stubbled face and guide his lips down to yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

When you finally draw apart, he pulls you close again, tucking your head under his chin. No more words are needed. You understand each other perfectly in the quiet spaces between heartbeats. Soon his breathing evens out in sleep, and you follow him down, still nestled safe in the circle of his arms.

***

You’re just drizzling the last of the chocolate over the molten lava cakes when you hear Kimi’s keys in the front door. A smile spreads across your face. Perfect timing.

He wanders in a few moments later, hair adorably rumpled, eyes lighting up when he sees you.

“Mmm, something smells good,” he says, crossing the kitchen to wrap you in a hug.

You kiss his scratchy cheek. “Made your favorite for dessert. Now go get cleaned up while I finish.”

He squeezes you tighter, stubble tickling your neck as he nuzzles into it. “Can’t I have you for dessert instead?”

You swat his shoulder playfully. “Go on, you. Plenty of time for that later.”

He steals one more kiss before sauntering off, a grin playing about his lips. You shake your head, unable to stop smiling. After all these years, he still makes your heart race as if you’re teenagers again.

When he returns, you’ve set out the seared salmon, roasted vegetables, and the two perfect chocolate lava cakes. His eyes light up.

“Have I told you lately that you’re the best wife ever?” He asks, pulling out your chair.

“Hmm, I think you could stand to mention it more,” you tease.

He takes your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. His eyes pierce yours. “You’re the best wife ever,” he says solemnly.

You lean in and kiss him, happiness bubbling up inside you. However many times he says it, you’ll never get tired of hearing it.

***

“So, what’s it like being married to the grumpiest driver on the grid?” The reporter shoves a microphone in your face, invasive and smug.

You recoil, blindsided. “Excuse me?”

“Come on, he’s not exactly Mr. Personality.” The reporter leans closer. “Does the Iceman thaw out at home or just freeze you out?”

Humiliation burns through you. Before you can respond, Kimi is there, gently moving you aside. His eyes are blazing.

“Don’t you dare talk about my wife like that,” he growls at the reporter. “You know nothing about our life.”

The reporter withers under Kimi’s icy glare. You feel a rush of gratitude for your protective husband.

Kimi turns to you, face softening. “Let’s get out of here.”

Once you’re alone, he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “Sorry you had to deal with that. He had no right to badger you about our marriage.”

You lean into him, safe in the circle of his arms. “It’s okay. You came to my rescue like a knight in shining racing gear.”

He snorts. “Hardly a knight. But for you, always.” He kisses you tenderly.

No matter what the media says, your life together is not theirs to define. Your love writes its own quiet story each day.

***

You awake in the dark to a loud crash from downstairs. Heart pounding, you shake Kimi’s shoulder.

“Kimi, wake up! I think someone’s broken in.”

He’s up in an instant, alert and poised to strike. You hear footsteps creeping up the stairs. Kimi pushes you behind him and grabs the baseball bat by the bed.

The footsteps reach the landing and a shadowy figure appears in the doorway. Kimi flicks on the light, bat raised menacingly. You both freeze.

It’s Sebastian Vettel, eyes wide, hands raised in surrender. “Whoa whoa, it’s just me!”

Kimi’s shoulders slump as he lowers the bat. “Seb? What the hell are you doing here?”

Seb runs a hand through his messy hair. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was in town and my rental car broke down outside. I was hoping I could crash here tonight.”

Kimi sighs, shaking his head. “You couldn’t call first?”

Seb grins sheepishly. “Forgot to charge my phone.”

You step out from behind Kimi, laying a hand on his arm. “It’s fine, love. Let’s get some fresh sheets for the guest room.” You turn to Seb. “We’ll figure out your car in the morning.”

Seb’s shoulders sag in relief. “Thanks, I really owe you guys.”

As you make up the bed, you share an amused look with Kimi. Only Seb could turn up unannounced in the middle of the night and get away with it. But then again, that’s why you love him.

***

You’re waiting at the finish line, heart in your throat as the cars scream past for the final lap. Kimi is battling for a podium finish, but has fallen back after a poorly timed pit stop. He’s gaining ground fast, but is he out of time?

The crowd roars as the frontrunners cross the line. P2 … P3 … waiting for P4. Come on, Kimi.

Then you see it, the red and white Alfa Romeo flashing past the checkered flag, narrowly clinching third. You leap in the air, cheering loudly. Kimi did it!

You rush down towards the pits, arriving just as Kimi climbs from his car. His race suit is drenched, hair plastered to his forehead, but his eyes are bright. When he spots you, a grin breaks across his face.

You throw your arms around him, heedless of how sweaty he is. “You were amazing! I’m so proud of you.”

He lifts you off your feet in a bear hug, laughing breathlessly in your ear. The sound sends joy bursting through your veins.

As he sets you down, you cradle his stubbled face in your hands. “I love you,” you say fiercely.

His grin softens to something more tender. He tilts his forehead against yours, heedless of the crowds milling nearby.

“Love you too,” he murmurs.

The cameras flash around you, eager to capture this rare unguarded moment. But Kimi only has eyes for you. Third place has never felt so golden.

***

“Ugh, your wife is so annoyingly positive all the time. It’s nauseating,” the other driver’s girlfriend gripes to Kimi at a race afterparty.

You freeze mid-laugh, stung by her disdainful tone. Kimi’s eyes narrow dangerously.

“I would rather have a positive wife than a miserable cow like you,” he says coldly. “Come on, let’s go.”

He takes your arm and steers you firmly away. You blink back tears, embarrassed.

“Hey,” Kimi says softly, tilting your chin up. “Don’t listen to her. I love how positive you are. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad for spreading joy.”

You give a watery chuckle. “Really? You don’t find it annoying?”

“Are you kidding? Your light balances out my darkness perfectly.” He punctuates this with a swift kiss. “You keep me from being a constant grump.”

You laugh and swat his chest. “Impossible. No one can tame the Iceman’s grumpiness.”

He smiles tenderly and pulls you close. “You do. Don’t change for anyone else.”

***

You pace the bathroom floor, heart racing. The little white stick sits innocently on the counter, but its result will change everything. One blue line for negative, two for positive.

Three minutes have never felt so long.

When the timer finally beeps, you take a deep breath and turn it over with a shaky hand. Two blue lines stare back at you.

Positive.

Emotions swell within you — joy, nervousness, excitement. You and Kimi have been trying for a baby, but it still feels so surreal now that it’s actually happening.

You hear the front door open and Kimi call out your name. It’s time. Clutching the test behind your back, you go to him.

He must read something in your face, because his brows furrow in concern. “Everything okay?”

Your face splits into a teary grin. “Everything’s perfect.” You bring the test out from behind you and hold it up wordlessly.

Kimi’s eyes widen. For once, the unflappable Finn seems utterly flapped. “You … we ...” He stares at the two little lines, then back at you. “We’re having a baby?”

You nod, vision blurring with happy tears. With a joyful shout, Kimi sweeps you up in his arms and spins you around. His excitement is boyish and uncontained.

When he sets you down, he cradles your face in both hands. “I’m going to be a father,” he whispers in awe.

You put your hand over his, overjoyed tears spilling down your cheeks. “You’re going to be the best father.”

***

You fidget impatiently on the exam table, Kimi’s hand clutched in yours. After months of waiting, today is your first ultrasound. If all looks well, you’ll get to see your baby for the very first time.

“What’s taking so long?” You huff. Kimi smiles and presses a kiss to your temple.

“Relax, they’ll be here soon.” His calm steadies you, as it always does.

Finally the technician arrives and asks you to lift up your shirt. She squeezes cool gel over your swelling belly and begins moving the ultrasound wand through it.

The screen comes to life, showing grainy black and white images you can’t decipher. The technician frowns, adjusting some dials. Your heart leaps into your throat.

Sensing your distress, Kimi gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay. Just be patient,” he murmurs.

After a few tense moments, the technician’s face clears. She turns the screen towards you with a smile. “There we are. There’s your baby.”

You gaze in wonder at the little shape filling the screen, tiny arms and legs visibly squirming. Your vision blurs with tears. That’s your child, your little miracle.

Beside you Kimi is utterly transfixed, eyes shining. “That’s our baby,” he whispers reverently.

He lifts your intertwined hands and presses his lips to your knuckles. “Thank you,” he says, voice husky with emotion. “For this gift.”

You have no words. You simply lean into him, his solid warmth anchoring you as joy washes over you both.

***

You stare glumly at your reflection in the mirror. At eight months pregnant, you feel like a beluga whale. Your ankles are swollen, your back aches constantly, and none of your clothes fit over your enormous bump anymore.

Voices sound from downstairs as Kimi arrives home. You feel tears prick your eyes. You don’t want him to see you like this, a beached whale in sweatpants.

Sniffling, you ease onto the bed and bury your face in a pillow. Kimi finds you there a few minutes later. The mattress dips as he sits down and rubs your back.

“What’s wrong, love?”

You shake your head, embarrassed. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

Gently he turns you over, brushing the hair from your damp cheeks. “Talk to me,” he says softly.

A sob escapes you. “I’m hideous like this! I’ve gotten so huge. You must be disgusted looking at me.”

Kimi’s brow furrows. He takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to meet his earnest gaze. “Is that what you think? That I find you disgusting?”

Ashamed, you drop your eyes, fresh tears spilling over.

“Look at me,” he says gently. You do. His ice blue eyes pierce yours. “You’ve never been more beautiful to me than you are right now, carrying our child.”

He places a reverent hand on your belly. “You are giving us the most precious gift in the world. How could I not find you beautiful?”

His words pierce your heart. You cover his hand with yours. “I love you,” you whisper.

He gathers you close, dropping feather-light kisses over your face. “And I love you. Always.”

You cling to him, feeling foolish and so very loved.

***

A contraction rips through you, more intense than any before. You cry out, squeezing Kimi’s hand desperately.

“Breathe, love, breathe,” he coaches, face taut.

You gasp air into your lungs as the vice grip on your insides finally releases. Kimi dabs the sweat from your brow with a cool cloth.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs. “Our little one will be here soon.”

Even through the haze of pain, his voice anchors you. Your Kimi, always steady as a rock.

Too soon, another contraction wrings a ragged shout from you. Kimi never leaves your side, letting you nearly crush his hand as you ride out the agony.

“I can’t … I can’t do this ...” you sob.

Kimi presses his lips to your temple. “You can. You’re the strongest person I know. I’m right here with you.”

His faith buoys you, even as your body is wracked with wave after wave of excruciating spasms. Your world narrows to the circle of his arms.

Then finally, miraculously, comes the thin, piercing cry of your child. Your exhausted tears mingle with joyful laughter.

Kimi cuts the cord with shaky hands, eyes shining brighter than you’ve ever seen. When they lay the squalling, pink bundle on your chest, the universe crystallizes to this one perfect point.

Your family, whole at last.

***

You awake in the small hours before dawn, reaching across the cool sheets only to find Kimi’s side of the bed empty. Padding down the hallway on silent feet, you peer into the nursery.

Your breath catches in your throat. Kimi stands over the crib, your tiny daughter cradled against his chest. One large hand gently supports her downy head.

He’s speaking softly to her in Finnish, too low for you to understand. But the love shining through his voice brings tears to your eyes. Your tough, taciturn Finn transformed into a doting father.

As he lays her tenderly back in the crib, you hear him murmur in a whisper, “Don’t worry little one, your isä will always protect you. I promise you that.”

He tucks the blanket snugly around her and brushes a feather-light kiss over her forehead. The tenderness of it makes your heart ache.

You slip silently back to bed before he notices you, not wanting to intrude on this private moment between father and daughter. But the image stays seared in your mind.

When Kimi joins you a few minutes later, you turn and press your face into his chest so he won’t see your tears of joy. His arms come around you reflexively.

“You okay?” He rumbles.

You nod, a lump in your throat. Your family is so very blessed.

***

The paddock is bustling with activity as you push your daughter’s stroller through the chaotic maze of the paddock. She’s only six months old, wide-eyed at all the commotion.

Mechanics pause to coo over her, their grease-smudged fingers surprisingly gentle. PR people stop to fuss and take photos. Word has spread — the Iceman’s baby girl is here.

Kimi strides over, stooping to drop a kiss on your head and tickle his daughter’s tummy. His race suit is on, grey eyes intense and focused.

“Sure you don’t want me to take her while you concentrate?” You ask.

He shakes his head, a corner of his mouth quirked up. “I need to see my two favorite girls before I drive.”

Your heart melts. Kimi scoops her up, and she clutches at his nose and gurgles. Nearby, you hear shutters clicking madly. The Iceman undone by a baby — it’ll be all over the press tonight.

But Kimi only has eyes for his daughter, face soft in a way it never is before a race. With a deep breath, he cuddles her close and murmurs something in Finnish before handing her back to you.

You kiss his cheek. “Go show them how it’s done, Daddy.”

He winks and strides off towards the pit lane, determination in his stride. Your daughter waves a chubby fist as he disappears from view.

No matter how many races he wins, now his best trophy waits for him at the finish line. His family.

***

“Must be lonely married to a man called the Iceman,” the reporter says slyly. “He’s not known for being warm and affectionate.”

Anger flashes through you. How dare this stranger imply your marriage is lacking.

“You couldn’t be more wrong,” you reply sharply. “Kimi is very attentive and loving in private.”

The reporter raises her eyebrows. “But his public image ...”

You cut her off. “That’s all it is — an image. Kimi deserves more respect than tired old stereotypes.”

Your voice softens as you glance to where Kimi is chatting with fans, his body angled protectively towards you.

“There is no one kinder or more loyal than my husband. He cherishes our family greatly, he just doesn’t flaunt it to the world.”

The reporter looks taken aback by your fervent defense. You almost feel sorry for her. She’ll never truly know the man behind the Iceman legend. But you do and you won’t tolerate anyone maligning him.

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.