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gucciwins · 9 months ago

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harry brings his girlfriend home to meet his family but it does not go as planned

word count: 5896

a/n: enjoy this story inspired by a lovely anon. happy reading, my sweet friends 💜

Y/N was nervous.

She squeezed Harry’s hand, trying to ground herself, but it seemed to transport her to the first time they met at the diner down the street from her apartment.

Going to university in Los Angeles wasn’t glamorous, not when she had endless bills to pay to keep a roof over her head. She had gone to Martha’s Cakes, a small diner ten minutes from her apartment that served the best hot chocolate. The food was good too but the hot chocolate is what she ordered each visit without fail. It’s a place she’d eat when Y/N had a bit of extra to spend on herself. Instead of buying herself new shoes, or another jelly cat bag charm (Otto, the sausage dog, went everywhere with her) she decided on eating a good meal that didn’t consist of ramen or buttered noodles. She came here when she needed a pick me up or simply wanted to have a nice conversation. It was a late Tuesday in the Spring. Where the sun took longer to come down, allowing her extra time at the bar to do assignments and chat with Antonio about the best produce sales. Y/N had her head down working on an essay due two weeks from now. It was based on one of Los Angeles buildings; it could be based on the oldest church to the Dodger Stadium. Y/N decided on the Avila Adobe residence. Known as the oldest standing residence in the City of Los Angeles. Olvera St. was a famous street and was filled with history. It was one of her favorite places to walk through.

As she was looking through photos, taking notes of significant dates, a patron sat next to her. Y/N didn’t bother seeing who it was, simply scooting her scattered papers closer to her, tucking a few under her laptop.

“It’s not bothering me.” A man spoke.

It startled Y/N only because he had a deep British voice. It felt odd to be hearing in such an unknown area.

“Darla would throw coffee on it if she saw I was bothering a customer.”

“I said it’s okay.”

Y/N laughs. “She would say it wasn’t.”

It seems the man lets it drop as he has nothing to reply. Y/N keeps up with updating her notes as she hears the man order a stack of the lemon poppy pancakes. Those were her favorite, Y/N would get them when she was having a bad day because it would without a fail make her smile. Y/N worked in silence over the next half hour when she felt the need to step to the restroom. Y/N did not want to pack up. Usually she asks a staff member to watch her items, but the diner seemed to be a bit busier. She looked around and her eyes landed on the pancake guy who had his headphones on. She hated bothering people, but he looked kind enough.

Y/N tapped next to his plate to get his attention. It worked because in seconds he slipped off his headphones and had turned his whole body to look at her. It gave her the chance to look at him fully for the first time. He had a buzz cut, and it looked really good. He had slight stubble, but what captured her attention were his bright jade eyes. It felt like he was staring deep into her soul.

“Do–uh–Would you please watch my stuff? I have to use the ladies’ room.”

“Course. Guard it with my life.”

Y/N thanked him and hurried away. When she came back, the man had slightly shifted over, his eyes staring intently at the dark screen of her laptop.

“Thank you,” she shot him a smile. Waking up her screen and getting back to her assignment, except she couldn’t get the man out of her head.

The dimples were something she focused on when he smiled, telling her it was no problem. Then his green eyes were so beautiful she felt she had seen them before. Though she could swear she had never met him before. She did have a weird feeling she had seen him before. Once it hit eight o’clock, Y/N knew it was time to call it. Y/N had her rough draft ready and could continue tomorrow. For now, she’d walk home and take a bath to wash away today’s day.

Y/N was packing up and could see the green-eyed gentleman was too. She would hate herself if she didn’t ask him where she knew him from, if she knew him. Y/N had her bag strapped on her shoulder and turned to him for the last time.

“Excuse me, sir?”

He turned, as if he was waiting to hear from her. “Yes?”

“How do I know you?”

The man’s smile dropped. He looked confused, so she didn’t know him.

“Don’t think we’ve met, until today, Y/N.”

Y/N’s frown deepens. “I didn’t tell you my name.”

He pointed to her bag. She looks down at the red stitching displaying her name. Well, now she looked dumb. Of course, he could read. “You look familiar to me. Sorry if that’s weird.”

The guy clears his throat, shaking his head. “I get that a lot.”

That’s odd, Y/N thought.

“I feel like I know you,” she tried one last time.

“Promise we don’t know each other. I would remember someone as beautiful as you.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped (not literally), but her face felt warm. Fuck, she was not expecting this turn of event. “Ha, uh. I want to say me too, but uh, there’s something familiar about you.”

Harry chuckles as if he knows something she doesn’t.

“Can I walk you out?” He asks.

She nods. He leaves a large tip and follows her to the exit. Y/N ways to Sonia, who shoots her thumbs up, but Y/N has no idea why. Y/N and the man linger outside the door, waiting to see who makes the first move.

“Well, uh, can I have your Instagram?” Y/N asks, not knowing if asking for his number was too forward. At least this way she could stalk him for a bit.

“Oh, I don’t use that. I can give you my number,” he counters.

Y/N perks up. “That works.” She hands him her phone where she watches his hands type in his phone number into her contacts. He hands her back her phone, and she looks at the newly added contact.

Harry S.

It seemed that’s all she needed for her to connect the dots. She lifts her head up and Harry has a flushed face. He didn’t look away from her, almost waiting to see what she’d say.

Y/N not sure how to break the silence. “Harry Sanchez?”

Harry laughs, and it’s all the confirmation Y/N needs. “More like Styles.”

“Oh.”

Did she fuck up her chances? She feels like she didn’t. She got his number.

“What can I use your number for?” She asks, wanting to double check. He still wants her to have it.

“Hopefully for us to plan a date.”

“Even after this,” she points between them as if to explain what they know just happened.

“I’d like to see where it could go.”

“Shit, uh. Well–I’m free Thursday.” Harry smirks, making her want to crawl in a hole because now she feels desperate. “I’m going to leave.”

Harry stops her by grabbing her hand. “I think Thursday is perfect. Are you up for a sunset dinner by the beach?”

“Sounds perfect,” she promised him.

“Good. Thursday it is.”

Now she is standing in front of his childhood home, about to meet his mother and older sister. Y/N had spoken to his mother, Anne, on the phone a few times, but his sister was always busy when Harry tried to pass her the phone. Harry promised her it would go well, but she feared the worst. Their story was genuine but to others could sound fabricated but come on, no one knows Martha’s cakes, it’s not even on Yelp. It’s a place once stumbled upon and then shares the magic with people in their life.

Harry said he felt like coffee and walked for a while until he saw people walk out. The smell of coffee is what drew him in, but the pretty girl he sat next to had him stay for hours. It’s something he shared months down the line. Y/N and Harry had now been together for nine months. Because of her Master’s Y/N had no time to travel. Harry visited home often, but Y/N couldn’t drop everything she was doing to go with him. He understood, but she felt his family wouldn’t. Harry met her dad and twin brothers six months into dating because they lived down in San Diego, only a two-hour drive from them. While Harry’s family lived an ocean away and she refused for him to pay for her flight to London. On top of that, she had classes and exams to worry about that did not allow her to hop on a flight for a week. Thankfully, she made it through the winter semester and had a few weeks off from her internship before going back for her last semester. Y/N knew graduation was just around the corner, and thankfully, had little debt to pay off.

Harry held her tight as he led her up the steps. Y/N was walking slower, trying to prolong the introduction. In her mind, she hoped she was simply psyching herself out and that things actually went well with Harry’s family. That they accepted her because they could see how much she loved him.

“You ready, Lovie?” Harry flashed her a dimpled grin.

Truthfully, she wanted to say no, but Y/N couldn’t do that to him. Not when he was bouncing with excitement. “Ready.” She confirmed.

Harry gave two loud knocks and then opened the front door. Y/N stood behind him as he rushed to embrace his mother. Anne was a sweet woman, much shorter than Harry, but by the tight embrace she held Harry, Y/N could tell she was strong.

Anne gave Harry two big kisses, one on each cheek, before turning her attention to Y/N.

“Y/N!” Anne cheered. She said it with so much delight, it surprised Y/N.

In a matter of seconds, someone tightly wrapped Y/N in a hug, which she quickly reciprocated. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Twist.”

Anne waved her off. “Call me Anne, my dear.”

“Anne,” Y/N repeated.

“Now come in and tell me all about the trip. Did he trick you into going to that fancy lounge where you get free food?” Y/N giggled because Harry indeed took her to a fancy lounge when he said he was taking her to get a smoothie.

Y/N spared a smile at Harry, but it was quick to fall when Y/N met another pair of eyes in the kitchen, looking at her with an intense stare. It dropped quickly because her attention shifted to Harry. Y/N focused back on Anne, trying to brush off the moment as something she imagined.

Y/N tried her best to ignore the pit forming in her stomach. There was no need to worry. Harry talked about wonderful things about his family. She was in safe hands. At least that’s what she kept reminding herself.

Y/N didn’t feel welcome. Anne was a gem, but Gemma was cold and looked bored whenever Y/N said a word. Y/N wondered if Harry picked up on it. He hadn’t said a word. Harry was home and had no time to deal with Y/N’s insecurities. She had to be reading into Gemma, not liking her. Harry spoke the world of his older sister. He said she was his best friend, someone whose opinion he valued. Fear struck her. If Gemma didn’t like her after this visit, she knew that as soon as she got on that plane to go home, Harry would be breaking up with her. At least she’d had several hours to cry about on the plane pathetically.

“There’s no way she didn’t know who you were,” Gemma scoffed, unbelieving of their story.

Harry brushed off her comment as if she said nothing. “Gem, I was bald.”

“Your face didn’t change.”

Harry sighs, “no, but you did a double take when I showed up to your doorstep to show you.”

Gemma frowns, knowing he was right. “Whatever, you were all over twitter.”

Harry is beginning to pick up on his sister’s defense and knows to drop it but will be picking it up with her later. “Anyway. Sitting next to each other, she asked me to watch her stuff when she had to use the restroom.”

“To look you up,” Gemma coughs.

Y/N fidgets in her chair, wanting to be anywhere but here. Harry continues with his story. “She thanked me and went back to her work. Before she left, Y/N asked if we knew each other, but I told her we didn’t. I wouldn’t forget someone as beautiful as her.”

“Charming,” Anne gloats. “My charming boy.”

Harry finished the story, stating it was meant to be. He had loved spending the time in Los Angeles getting to see the city through Y/N’s eyes. It’s a city she’s been living in for a couple of years. There was a lot for her to share with him. Harry had taken a liking to her favorite coffee shop. It had a design resembling a greenhouse and filled with plants, mainly featuring dried lavender. Truthfully, he spent a lot of time there because it was Y/N’s preferred place to study because it never got busy. Y/N called it her hidden gem.

“I’ve never been happier,” Harry shares. Y/N beams at his words but can’t help glancing at Gemma, who can’t help but look sick to her stomach at hearing this news.

Dinner passed dreadfully slowly. Y/N comments when she needs to but honestly hopes to disappear for the night soon, no longer wanting to burden Gemma with her presence. While Anne showed Y/N where she could freshen up, Harry stayed downstairs to share a nightcap with his sister.

Anne comes back to join them, but Gemma bites her tongue until their mother bids them goodnight. Harry gives his mother a tight embrace, commenting on how much he missed her. Gemma was happy her younger brother was home.

“Are you happy, Harry?” Gemma breaks the silence that had fallen between them.

Harry sighs, “never been happier.”

Gemma frowns, because she believes him. “I-I-nevermind.”

Harry frowns because Gemma is never someone to stop herself from saying what’s on her mind. “Hey,” he places his hand on top of hers. “It’s me. Your annoying younger brother, you can tell me anything.”

She removes her hand from under his and places them on her lap. “I don’t think she’s right for you.”

Harry sits back, surprised. “Sorry?”

“It’s clear she’s after something.”

He’s having a hard time believing his sister. “Like what?”

“Your money.”

“Is that all I’m good for?” He asks, baffled.

“No. That’s why I’m telling you. She’s after one thing.”

“How would you know?”

“Come on,” Gemma scoffs. “She goes to a prestigious school with a cost that no one could afford. It’s clear she wants you to pay for it.”

“Gemma, I met her during her last year.”

“Debt doesn’t go away overnight,” she fights back. “She’ll get you to pay off her loans and leave you.”

Harry’s anger is overwhelming him.

“You don’t even know her. Yet you say bad things about her.” It shuts Gemma up, and he uses that to his advantage and walks away.

“We saw the donation you made,” Gemma comments before he can make it up the stairs.

He turns back, trying his best to swallow down his anger. “If you would have asked me, you would know it’s for the music program. I did that for several universities if you would have taken the time to do a bit more research. It grants them a scholarship, plus pays for room and board.”

Gemma has no response. Harry is now standing in front of her and Gemma is nervous. She had never seen her brother this upset.

“What I do with my money is my problem. If she wanted me to send her money for a new car, I would. If she wanted me to buy her a piece of land, I would do it in a blink of an eye. If Y/N asked me to give her every last dime in my account, I would do it without a second thought because I love her. I love her and she loves me. You know, five minutes is not enough to judge her. I do not have to tell you of her financial issues, but I will so you can go home tonight and sleep knowing how upset I am with you. Y/N received the presidential scholarship covering her tuition for the three years she was there. Y/N has applied to hundreds of scholarships to cover her book fees, and has to take on an unpaid internship while working 40 hours a week to cover her rent. Y/N has not accepted a single dime from me for her school because she has gotten this far without me. Y/N only lets me pay for her seven dollar coffee every other day. Y/N would rather give every last dollar to me if I needed it instead of keeping it for herself. Y/N still sends money to her twin brothers for new shoes, or new backpacks, because she loves her family.”

Harry is near tears but keeps going. “I love Y/N. You might not, maybe you never will, but that girl has been the best thing to happen to me. I’ve never been more cared for and loved since she entered my life. So please, don’t bother coming back tomorrow or the rest of the week unless you have an apology for her.”

Y/N is grateful Harry’s room connects to the bathroom because, while she finished getting ready, she thought she would ask Harry for a cup of water and instead stumbled upon a conversation she shouldn’t have. Y/N tries her best to swallow her tears, but it’s no use. They’re more powerful than her. They stream down and Y/N decides to lie in bed, hoping by the time Harry comes in, she’s fast asleep. Y/N isn’t sure how much time has passed, but her tears have dried up and she’s as still as a rock when she hears Harry come in. She wants to tell him that she’s not worth defending if it means he’s messing up his relationship with his sister.

She hears him get ready for bed. Y/N knows he’s folding his clothes and placing them on the chair. He’s meticulous about his night-time routine. He crawls into bed next to her. Y/N tries her best to steal her breathing to make it seem like she’s sleeping, but Harry knows her too well. He scoots right behind her, his hand sliding over her hips and settling on her stomach, right by the scar she got on her eight birthday when she fell off her bike. Harry rubs the lifted skin, where she got four stitches.

Y/N lets out a deep breath, working up the courage to say something, but her throat is closed. She relaxes against him. All her tears dried up. She is beginning to feel better now that she’s with him. A kiss to her temple has her heart slowing down. This is what it is to be protected.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N croaks out when she feels like enough time has passed.

Harry pulls her tight against him. It fills her with ease. “How much did you hear?”

Y/N shakes her head. “I don’t want you to argue with your family.”

“It’s only my sister,” he defends.

“She’s an important person in your life. You’ve always specified that.”

Harry sighs. He leaves a kiss behind Y/N’s ear. “You are important to me, too.”

“You don’t need to be fighting. It’s not necessary.”

“It is when she needs a wack to her head.”

“Harry,” Y/N drags out. “I don’t want you burning bridges.”

Harry understood where she was coming from, but Y/N was not seeing how it affected him as well. “We’ll be fine. She’s my sister. We’ll talk in a few days. All this will be in the past.”

Y/N freezes, feeling as if someone dropped a cold bucket of water on her. If Harry believes everything will be alright with his sister, that means he sees himself forgiving her for what she said but also means he would be getting rid of the problem. Her.

Harry was going to be breaking up with her. This started her tears to fall again, only this time she couldn’t keep quiet. They were pouring out of her at a quick rate. He was quick to sit up bringing Y/N with him.

“Hey, hey,” Harry cooed. “What happened? What did I do?”

“Y-y-you,” she stuttered. Nothing was coming out.

He would not rush her. Instead, he shifted her to straddle his lap. Y/N tucked her head into his neck. Hary felt his neck dampen with tears. He pressed soft kisses to her hair, whispering “I love you,” hoping it would be enough to calm her. He snaked a hand under her night shirt softly running his nails up and down her back. Y/N curled in closer at the action. His sweet girl was feeling overwhelmed, and he felt awful because he wasn’t being helpful.

Y/N pulled away. Her eyes were puffy and tears streaming down her cheeks. Harry still thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her hands moved from her side up to his neck, she settled them on his cheek. She caressed his face, calming him down. He hadn’t realized how overwhelmed he was, but it’s clear Y/N could see what he needed even in her moments of sadness.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Y/N voiced. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Harry frowned. No one had said anything about him leaving. He would never dream of walking away from her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But Gemma–”

He cuts her off. “Gemma doesn’t know you like I do. She is looking out for me and I know she meant no harm, but she went about all this wrong. She decided to judge us, judge you before getting to know you.”

Y/N did no wrong. She was nothing Gemma accused her of. Y/N knew that, of course she did, but Y/N hoped to impress his family, not make them upset.

“I know you, Lovie. My mum knows you. Mostly, you know yourself. Your character speaks for you and it has never been anything but kind and loving.”

Harry’s words slowly begin to mend her heart.

“I love you, Harry.”

He connects his lips with hers in a loving kiss. “I love you so much.”

Y/N falls asleep to Harry’s voice as he sings her to sleep. It’s a lullaby he says his mum would sing when he had a nightmare. While Y/N didn’t know how tomorrow would go, she was happy to have Harry at her side.

The morning passed slowly between the three of them. They shared stories with Anne, Harry, catching her up on his upcoming plans. Y/N talked about her looming graduation and told Anne about her thesis project. Anne promised to make the trip for her graduation, something Harry couldn’t stop gloating about how she was top of her class on her way to graduate summa cum laude. Y/N had stepped outside wanting to enjoy all the open land Anne had. The cats happily roamed around Y/N as she settled in the grass. Y/N thought of her dad at home and what he’d have to say about the situation. He’d probably tell her to run while she could, but Y/N knew Harry was her person. Y/N laid down, closed her eyes and took in all the surrounding noise. She heard birds chirping, a purring in the distance and the rush of the wind hitting the wind chimes. It was perfect.

There was a loud band that had Y/N sitting up in a hurry. She looked back and realized it was the back door. Anne had stepped out, Y/N could see Harry in the kitchen, hands moving rapidly, and she knew he wasn’t alone. Anne sat not to Y/N, neither of them saying a word.

“My daughter owes you an apology.”

“Anne–”

She stops Y/N. “No, I raised her better than that. I’m not sure when she got so protective, but it’s clearly not for the best. Harry is nearing 30 he doesn’t need his sister looking out for him. While I’m glad they have each other, this was unnecessary. It caused a lot of hurt that should have never existed.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to talk to her if you’re not comfortable.”

Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She dreaded talking to Gemma, but Y/N knew she’d feel worse if she went home and never talked this out with her. “I’m willing. I-I might need time to forgive her.”

Anne squeezed Y/N’s hand. “That’s perfectly alright. Now tell me about these brothers of yours.”

Y/N spent the rest of the evening with Anne, forgetting about her problems. It isn’t until Harry called them both in for dinner that they realized they spent hours outside.

Harry greeted her with a kiss.

Dinner went off without a hitch, the three of them sharing all kinds of stories. Mostly Harry interrupting Anne to tell her a new story about Y/N he remembered. Harry that night promised he was alright with Gemma. He was feeling hurt. Assured her he loved her, but needed time to move past it.

Y/N woke up early the next morning and decided to go on a walk along the river. Harry told her it felt never ending. They had walked it once every day, but today she went alone, letting Harry sleep in but also have that extra time with Anne. As Y/N walked, she thought of her brothers and how they would love to be throwing rocks in the river. Y/N was sure one of them would even fall in on accident. The weather would pique her dad’s interest. He was a sunshine man. She was sure the gloomy weather would be too much for him to handle.

Two hours later, Y/N came back and was taken aback by Gemma’s presence on the front steps of the house, holding a thermal mug.

“Hi,” Y/N greeted.

“Morning, nice walk?” Gemma asked.

Small talk. It was safe. “Mhm, Harry showed me the trail he liked to walk on.”

“Mmm…coffee?” Gemma offered.

“Uh, I’m okay,” Y/N rejected.

Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”

Y/N nodded. “Sure.”

Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words.

“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”

Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.

“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her.

Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”

“That hasn’t been him for a long time.”

“I know.”

It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready.

“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.”

Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.”

“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.”

“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully.

Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.”

“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.”

Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades.

“Morning, pretty girl.”

Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”

Y/N nodded. “Sure.”

Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words.

“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her.

Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”

“That hasn’t been him for a long time.”

“I know.”

It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready.

“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.”

“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully.

Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.”

“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.”

Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades.

“Morning, pretty girl.”

“Hi, Harry. I love you.”

Y/N knows he’s grinning. “I love you too. Even if you left me alone this morning.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she defends. “You always told me a morning walk here cleared your head.”

“And did it?”

“Mmm…like magic.”

“Are you okay, Lovie?” Harry turns off the stove. He turns around, setting his hands on Y/N’s waist. His hair makes her laugh as she sees it sticking in different directions.

“We talked. She apologized. Promise I’m okay. It still hurts, but I’ll try my best to forgive her for you.”

Harry tuts his tongue. “No, honey.” Y/N tilts her head, confused. “You don’t have to do this for me.”

“But she’s your–”

“She’s my sister, but that doesn’t mean you have to change how you feel about me. I promise I am with you. She made a mistake, and I’ll forgive her but at my own time. You take your time as well.”

Y/N feels overwhelmed all over again because she really did get lucky with Harry. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more, my love. So much more.”

Harry gives her a kiss. A promise that everything will be alright.

thank you for reading my beautiful friends! let me know your favorite parts

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles story #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst story #harry styles fic rec #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction

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disneyprincemuke · 11 months ago

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how you get the girl * fem!driver

and when logan comes in with a girl on his arm, then what?

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver, liam lawson x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver

notes: hi it was only a kiss was the beginning of the end for my locky soldiers i fear and here u go lOLSIE OXOXOXOOXOOXOXO

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

“did you see?”

she tilts her head, turning around with her eyebrows furrowed. liam has walked around the barrier of their garages, sauntering in with his hands behind his back. “seen what?”

liam blinks at her. he purses his lips and shakes his head, scrunching his nose. “nothing.”

“what do you mean?” she laughs, putting her ipad down. “was i supposed to see something? why are you being weird?”

“i think he means logan and his girlfriend walking into the paddocks together.”

just like that, she can almost hear the glass around her shattering. there’s a ringing in her ears and she turns to sebastian with wide eyes and puffy cheeks. “what?”

sebastian blinks at her, his clipboard of data in his hands. “you didn’t know? don’t you guys live together?”

she blinks rapidly, trying to come up with an excuse. truthfully, only 2 people ever found out about the events of new year’s day. one of those was by default, logan’s brother, and she’d pulled liam aside during their team trip to new york to confess and vent about the events of her stay in miami.

liam’s been sworn to the highest level of secrecy, and she’s appreciated the fact that he’s kept his word. he never brings it up unless she does it first.

which isn’t a lot.

“we uh,” she drops her head and turns back to her ipad as she sucks in a deep breath, “we’ve been kinda busy lately. i didn’t know he was seeing somebody now. i was in los angeles for a while during the break.”

“that’s,” sebastian trails off, “odd. is it still weird after what happened in montreal? i thought everything was okay.”

she looks up. “it is! everything is okay! we’ve just been super busy,” she rambles, “you know… i’ve flown around for d&g and a couple of fenty events. haven’t really had the time to sit down and have a chat recently.”

sebastian hums, unsure if he’s fully buying her excuse yet. “i see. have you guys not gone to get ice cream lately?”

she shrugs and points at liam, “our schedules never really line up. sometimes logan is there, but not often. even then, there’s always something more important to talk about than our dating lives.”

liam finally clears his throat, making her eyes snap over to him. “let’s go? we’ve got an interview in a couple of minutes.”

she grins, turning to sebastian. she gives him a quick hug and hangs her head low before she follows liam back into the paddocks. “seriously? i didn’t know logan had a new girlfriend.”

“have you seriously not seen each other that you didn’t know about his new girlfriend?” liam whispers, looking around cautiously to ensure that nobody’s got the chance to eavesdrop on their conversation. he takes a step forward towards her and drops his head. “how do you feel?”

she pouts her bottom lip out with a shrug. “good for him, i guess.”

there’s no way that’s the only thing she has to say, right? “really? you’re okay with this?”

her eyes trail off to the crowd surrounding them, as if to really think over her answer, then turns back to him. “yeah, why wouldn’t i be?”

“you’re totally over the fact that you kissed on new year’s?”

“liam,” she scolds through gritted teeth, smacking his arm lightly. “you were sworn to secrecy.”

“i haven’t told anyone,” he throws his arms into the air, “but are you seriously okay with this? it’s just me — you can tell me if it bothers you.”

she tilts her head with a small grin. it’s endearing how liam is double-checking. but it’s been 7 months since they kissed. she’s kind of well over the fact by now. “i’m really okay. i’ve just been super busy. i flew in from los angeles right before touching down here. we haven’t really crossed paths in the apartment lately.”

liam pats her on the shoulder. “okay. but you can tell me anything, okay? don’t keep it in, mate.”

she smiles, “promise.”

max lifts his eyebrows, following the pair that’s just walked past him nonchalantly. his lips part in confusion as he then furrows his eyebrows and turns to the girl now approaching him. “was that logan holding hands with a girl?”

she follows his stare, tilting her head slightly. “yeah. i heard he brought his girlfriend to the race today.”

“you heard?” max scowls. “you didn’t know he had a girlfriend? aren’t you best friends who live together?”

she shrugs, “we haven’t seen each other a ton lately. we’ve been busy in our own right.” she puffs her cheeks out. “why is everyone so baffled that i didn’t know he has a girlfriend? he is a grown man!”

max puts his hands in the air as a small smile stretches his lips. “mate, relax. i was just curious. cause i thought you guys liked each other?”

“that’s crazy. where did you get that from?” she almost wants to laugh if it weren’t for the fact that max hit the jackpot with that guess. she only hoped that her wide eyes and racing heart didn’t give too much away. “he’s my best friend. with a girlfriend or not.”

max gives her a stare, one that tells her that he definitely isn’t buying her bullshit excuse. he lifts an eyebrow at her and sighs audibly. “really? you’re going to keep lying about you guys just being friends?”

she rolls her eyes. “your late-night gaming is taking a toll on you, i believe. you’re seeing things that aren’t there, max.”

“sure,” he snorts. “everyone can tell, by the way. alex, george… we know.”

she tilts her head and bats her eyelashes at him innocently. “i don’t seem to know what you mean.”

“that you and logan, at some point or another, liked each other,” max explains. “it’s only so obvious. mark my words, andretti racing driver, you guys are going to end up together someday be it in the near future or even it takes you years to figure things out.”

“you belong in a mental hospital.”

“rocky!” she feels a hand around her elbow pulling her back immediately, stumbling back a couple of steps with a soft yelp before she feels a hand on her back that steadies her. she knows that hand.

“why did you have to yank me like i’m an animal?” she whines, shaking away logan’s grip on her. “what do you want? i have a team meeting i’m gonna be late for.”

“i want you to meet somebody,” logan grins, stepping aside hesitantly. “ylona — my girlfriend.”

she tilts her head and into focus comes a slightly smaller girl compared to logan. slightly taller than her, tanned skin and the prettiest brown eyes she thinks she’s ever seen. ylona has her hands clasped in front of her shyly with a small and polite smile.

“oh, hi!” she squeals as her arm immediately darts out towards the girl. “i’m so sorry i just only got the chance to meet you now. i’ve been so busy — i’ve been out of the country lately.”

“yeah, i,” ylona laughs sheepishly and takes her hand, “i love your apartment, by the way. there’s no way you’re not an interior designer or something.”

she scrunches her nose. now, how is she supposed to hate someone as soft-spoken and lovely as ylona? she takes a deep breath, subtly looking ylona up and down. she’s just so pretty. “my younger sister actually helped with the apartment. i’d love to hang out with you after the day ends if you guys are joining us for ice cream?”

logan nods, his stare lingering on her in a way that she’s unsure what he’s trying to say to her. “of course. i’m not missing another ice cream night again in my life.”

“good!” she grins, patting his shoulder. “i’ll see you guys around. i’ve got to run.”

“who the hell is that!” alex barges into her room, george following suit as she takes sips from the drink in his hand. “when did logan get a girlfriend?”

she looks up from her phone, baffled at the comfortability that the older drivers have found in her hospitality home. especially her driver’s room. “you know, just because sebastian gives you guys immunity in the andretti hospitality doesn’t mean you should take advantage of it.”

“who is that girl? how did they even meet?”

george points at her beanbag, looking at her innocently as if to ask for permission. she nods and beckons him towards it before turning to alex. “i don’t know. i only just met her today.”

“like it’s so– what? you just met her today?”

“you also just met her today?” george pouts his bottom lip out, unsure if he should be concerned or impressed at logan’s success in hiding a secret from her. “how weird.”

“it’s seriously not that weird! we’re adults with our own lives!” she scoffs, returning her attention to her phone. “she seems lovely if you ask me. very pretty, very polite.”

she’s just opened her phone to send a message when it disappears abruptly, alex taking it into his hands and slipping it into his back pocket. “you’ve got to tell us more. there is no way you found out today like the rest of us peasants.”

she shrugs with a soft laugh. “i really have got no idea when or how they met. i’ve barely hung out with logan since we were in barcelona for the spanish gp. i’ve been frequenting los angeles a lot recently.”

“what are you doing in america instead of oxford with your family?” george scowls. “the fame’s gotten to you, mate.”

she rolls her eyes. “i’ve got sponsorships i need to show up for. seriously, it’s not that serious. logan’s 23 — let him have his girlfriend.”

“she is very quiet too, actually,” alex hums, dropping himself on the bean bag, and squeezing in with george, who scowls and pushes him away slightly to regain his space. “i don’t know. do i like her?”

george furrows his eyebrows. “logan isn’t your best friend. why are you speaking like that about his girlfriend?”

“hey, she’s going to be in the garage for a while. i have to make sure it’s an environment that i feel comfortable in.” alex looks to her for some support. “you get what i mean, right?”

she shrugs. “i guess you have a point. but you know… you can just ignore her if you don’t like her, alex.”

“it’s not the same though,” alex sighs, dropping his hands in his lap. “promise you’ll tell me when you find out more about her?”

“why don’t you just ask logan yourself?” george asks.

“he keeps running away when he sees me,” alex frowns. “i think it’s because i keep asking him if he likes rocky. i guess it’s not a good look if i keep asking that when his girlfriend is around.”

“you twat, why would you ask him that at all?” she scolds, hurling the small stuffed animal next to her towards alex. “such a stupid question to ask!”

alex catches the stuffed animal and chucks it right back at her. “i’m curious! for the record,” he rolls his eyes, “he avoids that question too!”

“that’s just stirring up the pot when you don’t have to, alex!” she hops off her massage table and runs over to where the 2 men are, arm wound back to hit the thai driver. “you’re so annoying! what is your problem?”

“i was curious!” alex screams to defend himself. “if you hit me, i’m telling james and he’ll never let you into our building to see logan.”

“i won’t have to. he’s got ylona now,” she points out before turning on her heel. “do you guys wanna go grab some coffee?”

“i know, i know,” oscar whispers, “it’s a bit sudden, isn’t it? i can’t believe he didn’t tell us.”

lily nods, leaning on the wall of the mclaren’s racing home as they await their friends so they can leave to get some ice cream. “i can’t believe even rocky didn’t know.”

oscar raises his eyebrows in shock. for him to now know, is one thing, but for logan’s literal roommate to not know of ylona’s existence until today? that’s just weird and even borderline off.

from the corner of his eye, he sees the young driver approaching them, typing away on her phone with a small grin on her face. he furrows his eyebrows and hits her gently on the shoulder as she comes to stop in front of them.

“what?”

“you and logan are being so weird lately,” oscar confesses. “seriously. what happened between both of you in the united states?”

she blinks at him. “nothing. we were just busy.”

“not spending valentine’s day together is one thing. but you didn’t even know about his girlfriend? you usually know everything,” oscar whispers, looking over his shoulder to make sure that logan’s not anywhere close to them. “what’s going on?”

“i’ve just been very caught up with my own things lately,” she laughs, putting a hand on oscar and lily’s shoulder. “relax. nothing happened between us.”

but she swears that there are some nights that she can feel logan’s lips on hers. it drives her crazy, actually. “relax. let’s just get ice cream and get to know her. it doesn’t have to be weird.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

#logan sargeant x reader #oscar piastri x reader #liam lawson x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 grid x reader #f1 female driver #formula one x reader #fem!driver #f1 fem!driver #female driver #disneyprincemuke vr #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #vettel reincarnate

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cranberrymoons · 6 months ago

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you're abby clark and you haven't brushed your hair in days, always running late, your job has you working alternate nights and days on 12 hour shifts where you hear people cry and die and lose their loved ones, and you're so stressed out, and you meet a 25 year old fuckboy with big sad wet eyes and not-yet-enormous muscles and he's so hot and so sad and so pathetic, and he really really likes you in a way that is honestly a little concerning re: clinginess, and sure he has like 6 roommates and will only have phone sex with you at first and has probably never been on a second date in his life, but he's sweet!! and he is so shocked and worried when you say you haven't had sex in a year that he says, in broad daylight, please tell me you're at least masturbating??? and he buys you the most beautiful bouquet of flowers and tries to take you on a hot air balloon ride? and then he gets so involved in your care for your mother that he forms an unbreakable bond with your mother's caregiver!!! which will continue for years and years after you've broken up with him, and this is someone that he's going to carry forward in his own life into his own family, and wow you never could have seen that coming, but then your mom dies, and your brother isn't here in los angeles anymore, and you feel a little bit like you've lost yourself in everything that's been going on the past few years, but this boy. he's so sweet and so kind and so hot, and you're like well. i just don't want to break his heart, or i don't want to physically be here to see his heart get broken, but i also cannot stay here because i will literally suffocate and never find myself again if i stay. and so you leave, and you tell him you're leaving but you make it sound like it's only for a while, but in your heart you know it's really forever, but you're hurting because your mom just died, this person who raised you who poured so much of herself into you and then you poured that same self back into her, and now she's gone forever, and you're sad and you have a one way ticket to europe, and this hot sweet sad wet pathetic boy who is maybe a little bit in love with you. he's here in your apartment, and you don't want to make things worse for yourself or for him by watching his heart break, and so you just go, and you don't ever come back.

#abby clark they literally could never make me hate you #i'm rewatching S1 right now and 😭#abby clark #911 #buckabby #my fic #kind of??

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gigabyte-flare · 2 years ago

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Hybrid

(A Gigabyte Flare One Shot)

Summary: The year is 2123. The latest craze to hit the market are Hybrids, humans genetically engineered to have animalistic traits, born and raised to be the perfect companion. Your mom convinces you to get one since you live alone in a big city, however you get way more than you bargained for

Word Count: 3.8k

Pairing: puppy!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Pet play, dubcon, oral (f receiving), somnophilia, sex [p in v], mommy kink, breeding kink

A/N: Finally hopping on the puppy!Leon band wagon! Huge shoutout to @nexysworld for creating the adorable puppy!Leon for this fic's banner and for her and @elfven-blog for enabling me to write a puppy!Leon fic. Also lightly inspired by the puppy!Leon POV series by Nekrophil/ABP0RNS on Twitter (go check them out, their artwork is *chef's kiss*) Enjoy!

“Hybrids, the latest craze in New Los Angeles for human companionship. Humans spliced with animal DNA and raised to be your best friend! Hybrids are the perfect addition to any household! Adopt your Hybrid today at your nearest--”

You abruptly change the channel, sitting in a living room with your mom at her condo.

“Those things freak me the fuck out…” you say, mindlessly scrolling through channels.

“Hybrids? Aw, really? I think they’re cute!”

You turn to your mom, giving her a disgusted look, “really? You don’t see anything wrong with those things?”

She shakes her head, “no worse than the cyber augmentations people get, sweetie”

You watch your mom ponder for a moment, her eyes suddenly widening, “you should get one!”

“What-- Mom, no!”

“You’re in that apartment all away across town all by yourself, it’ll be good for you!”

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How you got dragged out to adopt a Hybrid is beyond you. Your mom somehow convinced you to at least go and look at what they have available for adoption. You lean your head against the passenger window and watch the sights of the city. You mindlessly listen to your mom rattle on about how excited she is to look at the Hybrids and you picking out one, which finally draws your attention.

“Whoa hold on, Mom, I never said I was buying one! I just said I would look, that’s all!” you draw your attention back out the passenger window, “besides, I can’t afford one, you know that. I’d never have enough credits in my lifetime for something like that.”

“Hun, I’m going to help you with that, don’t worry. This is for your wellbeing, after all!”

“Great…”

The large neon sign proclaiming that it was the location of a Hybrid adoption center made your stomach sink. Your mom pulls the car into the parking lot, getting out and practically dragging you out of the passenger’s side to go into the building. The reception area is a blinding white, a stark contrast to the neon grunge of the city outside. The woman behind the desk greets both of you both with a smile.

“Welcome to the Hybrid adoption center! How can I help you ladies today?”

Your mom grasps you by your shoulders, pushing you forward, “my daughter wants to see the Hybrids available for adoption today!”

“Oh that’s fantastic!” the receptionist says, her smile still plastered on her face, “what kind of Hybrid are you looking for?”

You look at the receptionist with a confused look, “what do you mean what kind?”

“Well, we have different kinds that are spliced with different animals! However, our dog and cat Hybrids are our most popular, would you like to start with one of those?”

You look at your mom for a moment before shifting your attention back to the receptionist, “um… I guess the dog ones…?”

“Great choice! Now then, I’ll notify our active adoption coordinator and have her come out to take you to see what we have for dog Hybrids, have a seat!”

You and your mom take a seat in the waiting area. You lean forward, fiddling with your fingers as you both wait. Your mom was more excited to see the Hybrids than anyone. You just wanted to please your Mom and move on. You had no intention of adopting a Hybrid. The sound of a door sliding open makes you jump as a woman with a clipboard comes out to you and your Mom.

“Are you the two ladies here to see our dog Hybrids?” she asks enthusiastically.

“Yes we are!” your mom immediately answers, practically jumping out of her seat.

The woman motions for you both to follow her, you do so reluctantly. She leads you down a set of pure white corridors before coming upon another door that slides open. Both sides of the room were lined what you could only describe as cells and you see them, the Hybrids. You expected to hear barking for some reason, but that’s not the case here. They all are saying hello and grabbing the bars that keep them in their cells.

“They can talk…?” I ask.

“Yes! Hybrids are perfectly capable of human speech! Did you have something in particular in mind for a dog Hybrid?”

“You should get a male--” Mom interjects.

“Mom!”

The coordinator just laughs, “we have plenty of males to choose from, let’s take a look!”

The first thing you notice is all of them are naked, making this whole situation even more awkward. Hybrids were quite literally people with animal parts grafted onto them; it was quite unsettling to you.

“How is this even ethical?” you whisper to your Mom.

“Stop it!” your Mom scolds you.

Most of the Hybrids were much too… eager and hyper for you, making you a little uncomfortable. It wasn’t until you got to one of the last cells when a Hybrid actually caught your attention. He, of course, was nude like the rest, but he wasn’t jumping all over the place trying to get your attention. He was laying on his back, looking up at the ceiling. He had blonde hair and blue eyes and, admittedly, he was quite gorgeous; you were bummed he was a Hybrid and not a human. He finally notices you, rolling over and smiling as he grasps the bars on his cell.

His voice is gentle, “hi there! I’m Leon!” his matching blonde tail wagging back and forth.

Something you hadn’t noticed before was that all the Hybrids had two sets of ears, their human ears and their animal ears, “do they all have two sets of ears?” you ask.

“So their animal ears aren’t actually ears, they’re simply appendages meant for cosmetics. Their human looking ears are their actual ears.” the coordinator replies, “this is Leon, he just turned 21; he’s a very calm boy, very loyal and friendly, but protective, too.”

“Oh sweetie he’s perfect for you! Look at him! He’s adorable!” your mom exclaims before speaking to the coordinator, “she lives in an apartment all by herself.”

“Oh! Leon would be perfect for you! What do you say?”

Your gaze shifts to Leon, his pretty blue eyes practically pleading at you, his tail still wagging.

You let out a heavy sigh, you can’t believe you’re actually doing this, “I’ll take him.”

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The next few days were a blur, consisting of filling out paperwork and buying things Leon would need for when he comes home. Thankfully Hybrids eat the same things humans do, so you just have to make sure you buy for two instead of just for yourself. The day came for Leon to come home to your apartment and your first order of business was getting clothes on him, having him naked all the time was just way too weird. That was proving harder than you anticipated.

“No! It’s itchy!” Leon whines, kicking off the pants and underwear you had put on him for the fifth time before curling up on the floor.

At that point you conceded defeat, you were just going to have to deal with him being naked for now. You guessed it made sense, he’s probably been naked his entire life. You watch him as he plays with a rubber bone you had bought him, immediately noticing his canine teeth were much sharper than a normal human’s would be. You look over in the corner where you had a large crate set up, it was actually at the coordinators recommendation that you get a crate for him even though the idea of putting him in it made you really uncomfortable. You’d hope you wouldn’t have to use it.

Your attention returns to Leon, who’s still playing with his bone happily, sporting this new collar you got him. It was a blue leather collar to match his eyes and had a bone shaped tag that had his name on the front and your contact info on the back.

“Leon,” you suddenly call to him, holding your hand out, “wanna play fetch?”

Leon immediately perks up onto his haunches before crawling over to you with the toy in his mouth.

You tried your damned hardest not to focus on his very large dick, even flaccid it was quite large. Again, you curse that he’s not a human internally. He drops the toy from his mouth into your hand and you reach out, giving him a scratch behind one of his dog ears. His cheeks turn red, leaning his head into your touch.

“Aren’t you a sweet boy…” you say before tossing the toy gently.

Leon chases after the toy, picking it up in his mouth and bringing it back over to you for you to throw again. You do this a few more times before Leon decides he’s had enough, he climbs up onto the couch next to you, laying his head in your lap as he stretches out across the rest of the couch, his tail making a rhythmic thumping sound as he wags his tail. You run your fingers through his hair, looking down at him.

His blue eyes look up at you and he smiles, “I love you, Mommy!”

You feel your breath hitch at his words, but you quickly recover and smile back, “love you too, Leon.”

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“Leon, get back here right now!”

You never thought you’d be starting your day chasing Leon around the living room with a pair of boxers in your hands.

“Leon, come on! My best friend is coming over and I can’t have you running around naked, at least wear these boxers for god’s sake! I even cut a hole in the back for your tail, just get over here so I can put them on!”

“No! It itches!” Leon protests, somehow managing to stay one step ahead of you as he darts around the living room on all fours.

After a while, you manage to corner him on the couch, quickly slipping on the boxers, making sure to pull his tail through the makeshift hole you had made. He starts to pull them off when you scold him.

“Leon, no! Do you want to go in the crate?”

Leon stops, pulling the boxers back up and giving you the most pathetic puppy eyes, “no, Mommy…”

“Then they stay on at least until my best friend leaves, ok?”

Leon nods, climbing off the couch, grabbing his rubber bone before climbing back onto the couch to chew on it.

“Thank you… good boy…” you say before you work on cleaning up your apartment for your best friend to arrive.

About a half hour goes by when you hear your phone go off, a notification displaying that there is someone at the door. With a couple of taps on your phone, your best friend’s face appears on the screen.

“Hey there, I’m here!” she says, giving you a big smile.

“Hang on Hailey, I’ll be right there!”

You go up to your apartment door, push a few buttons on the key panel next to the door and the door slides open. Hailey, your best friend since you were kids, comes in and gives you a hug.

“It’s been too long! What is it that you wanted to show me?” Hailey asks.

You motion for Hailey to follow you into the living room, where you find Leon still contently chewing on his bone, the boxers thankfully still on.

“Is… is that one of those Hybrids?!” the shock is evident in Hailey’s voice.

“Y-Yeah… mom convinced me to get him; his name is--”

“Hi there!” Leon sits up, his tail wagging in full circles as he looks to your friend, “I’m Leon!”

Hailey leans over to whisper into your ear, “are all Hybrids that hot?”

You elbow her, “shut up! It’s hard enough to deal with as it is without you mentioning it!”

Leon looks between the two of you, cocking his head in confusion, his tail still wagging, now hitting against the couch.

“Listen, I’m pretty sure most people fuck their Hybrids, like, look at him, how could you not?”

“Hailey, no! That’s fucking weird.”

“You’re telling me that you haven’t at least thought about it?”

“We’re not talking about this, not in front of Leon.”

Leon, meanwhile, has returned his attention to his rubber bone, chewing it aggressively when he suddenly picks up an unusual scent, one he’s never smelled before. He stops chewing, flaring his nostrils as he sniffs the air. Whatever it was, it smells sweet, almost like a wildflower. He quickly realizes that it’s you that smells like this, even though it was so faint. He wanted to get up and stuff his nose into you to take in more of this sweet smell, however, he knew he’d get in trouble, especially with your friend being here. To his dismay, you and your friend went back into the kitchen to hang out, bringing that irresistible smell with you.

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In the dead of night, Leon is restless, tossing and turning in his plush bed that sat at the foot of your bed. The smell from the other day has only become stronger over time and it was getting to Leon’s head. The smell was making his cock hard, something he hadn’t really experienced until now. It is almost painful; just him simply running his fingers along his cock made him flinch. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, he sat up, carefully climbing onto your bed. You were laying on your back, sound asleep with your legs spread open.

Leon gently crawls his way between your legs, the intoxicating smell emanating from the spot between your legs; he notices a dark spot on your panties. Gently, he presses his nose against the wet spot, inhaling deeply as his tail wags back and forth.

That’s it… that’s where that smell is coming from…

He glances up at you, you’re still sound asleep. He gently hooks a finger on your underwear, pulling them aside to reveal your glistening cunt to him; it practically makes him salivate. He hesitantly runs his tongue over your slit, his eyes fluttering closed as he savors the taste of you. You suddenly stir, your hips shifting slightly as a soft moan comes out of you. Your eyes flutter open and you look down to find, to your horror, Leon between your legs, eating you out.

You blink a few times before shouting, “LEON!”

Taking his mouth off of you, Leon’s eyes widen as he pushes himself off the bed, letting out a soft whimper as you sit up and cover yourself with your blanket.

“In your crate!” you point to the bedroom door, your face beet red, “now!”

“Mommy… I’m sorry… I just--”

“GET. OUT!”

Leon’s puppy ears droop and his tail tucks itself between his legs as he crawls out into the living room. You follow behind him, making sure he puts himself in his crate before shutting the crate door behind him. Looking up and whining at you, his fingers grip the bars of the crate as he stares up at you, pleading to you with his blue eyes. Unfortunately, you simply shake your head at him and walk back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind you. Leon feels tears well up in his eyes as he grips the bars on the crate.

What did he do wrong? He was only doing what his instincts told him to do, why was that bad? Releasing his grip on the crate bars, he makes himself as comfortable as he possibly can in his situation, crying himself to sleep, your sweet scent still lingering in the air.

🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴

You didn’t sleep a wink the rest of the night, between the sounds of Leon’s cries echoing through your bedroom door to just the thought of waking up to Leon eating you out disturbed you to your core. You finally get yourself out of bed, throwing on your pajama bottoms before walking out of your bedroom. You find Leon awake in his crate, his eyes red and puffy from crying all night. Upon seeing you, he immediately sits up, gripping the crate bars, his tail wagging so hard it was a blonde blur. Against your better judgment, you walk up to the crate, unlocking it to let him out.

As soon as you open the crate door, Leon bolts out, wrapping his arms around your legs, holding you tight. The fact that he buries his nose into you and deeply inhales doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Thank you for letting me out, Mommy! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll be a good boy, I swear!”

You pry his arms off you and push him away, “Just… just go play with your toys Leon…” you say before walking into the kitchen to make yourself coffee and breakfast.

Once you have your coffee and breakfast, you practically collapse at the small dining table, rubbing your face with your hands. What are you going to do? You could start crating him at night, but something about that didn’t sit right with you. Suddenly, you feel something rest on your lap and the sound of something thumping against the floor. You move your hands away from your face to find Leon’s head resting in your lap, his tail wagging against the floor.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?” he asks, his blue eyes looking up at you, his puppy ears erect and alert.

“Nothing, Leon…” you say with a sigh, “you must be hungry. I’ll make you something to eat…”

You get up from the table and over to the stove where you make him some eggs and bacon. Once finished, you put them on a plate and set it on the floor in front of him and watch as he scarfs it down. You sit back down at the table and slowly pick away at your breakfast and take sips out of your coffee mug. You feel Leon rest his head onto your lap again. You look back down, finding him looking up at you longingly, his tail wagging insistently.

“What is it, Leon?” you ask, leaning back in your chair.

Leon doesn’t say a word, however, as he climbs up until he’s face to face with you, staring directly into your eyes, his tail still wagging. He lets out a soft whimper as he grinds his hips into the side of your thigh. You happen to glance down, greeted with his painfully hard member rubbing against you. Looking back up at him, Leon whimpers again, his hands softly caressing your arms.

“Leon… are you ok…?”

You watch as Leon swallows hard before he continues rutting himself against your thigh, his breath trembling.

“I need… to mate with you…” Leon finally replies, his grip on your arms tightening as he continues to grind into your thigh.

Your heart begins to race as very conflicting feelings begin to overtake you.

This is so wrong, you think to yourself.

That thought doesn’t stop you as you lean forward, giving Leon a gentle kiss on the lips, cupping his face in your hands. Leon deepens your kiss, his tongue dancing with yours before playfully biting your bottom lip. You stand up from the table, leading him back into the bedroom, shutting the door before you begin to undress. As soon as you're naked, Leon stands up on two feet, pushing you into the bed face first so that your backside is propped up. You feel yourself tremble in anticipation as you feel Leon climb onto the bed behind you. You flinch when you feel his cock caress your soaked slit, coating itself in your arousal before he pushes himself inside you.

“Oh… Oh god--!” you cry out as Leon’s length fills you completely, pushing into your g-spot almost immediately, your fingers gripping your sheets.

You hear Leon whimper as his hips begin to move into you. He starts out slow, but he quickly gains confidence and begins to thrust into you harder and faster, his hands gripping your hips so hard that you’re bound to have bruises later.

“Yes… oh yes, Mommy… you feel so good…” Leon moans as he pounds into you harder, “am I a good boy…?”

“Yes…” you reply in a breathy moan as your eyes roll back into your head, “you’re such a good boy, Leon… you fuck Mommy so good…”

You feel his hands grip your hips even tighter as he pulls your body to him, thrusting into you even harder, his loud moans and whimpers filling the room along with the wet sounds of your needy cunt taking him.

“Aaaaahhh… f-fill me up with your puppies Leon--!” you suddenly cry out, your pussy walls squeezing around his cock as he continues to thrust into you.

Leon growls in response, placing one of his hands onto your back to push you into the mattress as he fucks you relentlessly. His instincts are in overdrive, his thoughts completely overtaken by his burning desire to breed you.

“Oh my god… you’re such a good boy, Leon!” you praise him, completely drunk off his cock, your legs trembling as you’re filled with complete ecstasy.

You suddenly feel his cock start to swell inside you and you quickly realize he is knotting. It feels surprisingly good, making you feel full. You sit up on your knees, pressing your back against his chest as he continues to thrust into you. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, nuzzling your cheek against his as his hands find their way to the front of your body, caressing your breasts as his chin rests on your shoulder.

“I can’t wait…” Leon starts, his voice rough, “to see your belly full of my puppies.”

You repeatedly moan his name, the word fuck and good boy as he pounds his cock into you, your legs starting to feel weak as they violently tremble. Before they give way, a sudden warmth fills your pussy as he pushes himself inside you as hard and deep as he possibly can, his hands gripping both your breasts tightly as he bites into your shoulder. You let out an animalistic moan as you also cum on his cock, your greedy cunt milking his seed deep inside your womb.

Both of you collapse onto the bed in exhaustion with his length still buried inside you, ensuring that not a single drop of his cum is wasted. His arms and legs wrap around you as his face nuzzles into the back of your neck. Your whole body is trembling, completely overwhelmed by how good Leon was for you. You reach back, running your hand through his hair and caressing one of his puppy ears, whispering softly to him that he is a good boy.

You’re going to get used to this.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #puppy!leon kennedy #gigabyte writes

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love-quinn · 7 months ago

Text

— COLLECTORS' GUIDE

summary — you love books, and spencer can't figure out why you don't have a single one inside your apartment. his only solution is, of course, to buy you some.

warnings — swearing, reader has a toxic ex

pairing — spencer agnew x fem!mythical reader

pronouns — none (you/yours)

featuring — spencer agnew, nicole enayati, vianai austin (mentioned), kiana parker (mentioned)

word count — 1.8k

note — as someone who LOVES mythical kitchen i've been toying around with the idea of spencer and someone from that show or even just mythical in general, also she was speaking to me she told me she's a bookworm i don't make the rules sorry. thank you so much for all the love on my last two spencer fics <333 hope you enjoy

LA’s a big city; it’s loud, it’s dirty, and it’s busy. Working in the industry you do, you don’t have a whole lot of calmness in your life, which is why you make it your personal mission to make your apartment as soft and cozy as possible.

You pile your couch with throw blankets and pillows, you have lamps where you can control the brightness, you hang art on the walls and you love it there. You layer your rugs and you keep candles on every shelf. Your apartment is one hundred percent yours, and that’s the reason Spencer likes spending time there as much as he does.

You and Spencer are a fairly new couple, you’ve only been together a few weeks, and he still can’t quite believe the two of you are together. You work in the Mythical side of the office as a producer and sometimes on-camera for Mythical Kitchen so the two of you see each other fairly often but not every single day.

He likes to think he knows you pretty well – he is your boyfriend. But one of his favorite parts about being in this relationship with you is getting to learn more about you. Neither of you are shooting anything today so he decides to drop by your desk during his lunch break. You’re on yours too, you and Nicole are chatting across your desks, you have half a wrap in one hand and a folded over paperback novel in the other and Spencer brightens at seeing you.

“Hi, babe,” he drops a kiss on your hairline, leaning over and peering at what you’re doing. “I was gonna see if you wanted to go for lunch with me but you seem to have it covered.”

You tilt your head back to look him in the eye, face lighting up. “Hi! I didn’t know you were coming over here.”

He shrugs, leaning on the back of your chair. Nicole excuses herself to go meet Vi for lunch like they planned and offers Spencer her chair while she’s gone so he doesn’t have to hover. Spencer watches you smile up at her as she leaves and can’t stop the frown from making its way onto his face.

“You’re not going with them?” From what he knew, the three of you were really good friends, at the very least close coworkers. Seeing Nicole talk about her plans with your mutual friend right in front of you without inviting you felt… not wrong, but definitely weird.

You just shake your head. “No, Thursdays I usually eat by myself, they go out somewhere.” You catch the look on Spencer’s face and amend yourself quickly. “They do invite me, I just prefer to eat my lunch at my desk, I can get a chapter or two in before they get back.”

Spencer looks down at the paperback in your hand again. “What’re you reading?”

You hold it up for him. It’s an older book, with frayed edges and a peeling vinyl cover, a grainy lighthouse on the front. He takes it when you offer it and flicks through it, careful not to disturb the bookmark. “I was gonna take it back to the library on Saturday and get a new one, but I can come over after that?”

Spencer shakes his head, only now just seeing the Los Angeles Public Library sticker on the back cover. “Can I come with you? Unless that’s like, something you wanna do by yourself or whatever? I didn’t know you went to the library.”

You take the book back and put it on your desk, out of the way. You and Spencer have wordlessly begun to split the wrap that you’d packed for lunch, something you’d made at home that made his mouth water. “Yeah, of course you can come. I go most weeks, I try to read a book every week but sometimes, y’know,” you gesture around the office.

That’s how Spencer finds himself on the steps of the LAPL for what he believes to be the first time. He’d been to libraries before, obviously, but not since leaving Florida, and not for a long time. He knows you like to read, there’s often a paperback in your hand or your purse or your car, it’s your quiet time activity. He just assumed you bought your own books, but getting to walk hand in hand with you through the stacks as you browse, he definitely sees the appeal.

You find your new book of the week and hold it up to him gleefully, and you don’t even have to pull him along to the desk for him to follow you dutifully. Spencer would let you stay in there for hours, gazing lovingly over at you as you talk familiarly with the librarian.

Eventually, you cut yourself off and excuse yourself to return to your boyfriend, knowing that his ideal weekend plans probably didn’t include letting you drag him around the library. You really like Spencer, you don’t want to hijack all of your time together.

Spencer hasn’t even considered that. In fact, he is actively planning the next time that the two of you can come back, desperate to see you so happy again. Desperate to make you that happy.

It becomes almost a routine. The two of you begin your weekend by going out for breakfast somewhere, Spencer follows you around the library and then the two of you go home and spend the rest of the day quietly in one of your apartments. Usually it involves him playing Zelda on the couch with your feet in his lap while you churn through your book.

You fold around each other comfortably. You have your separate friends, your separate jobs (well… technically separate), and your separate hobbies. But as the weeks turn into months, Spencer sinks right into your little oasis in your apartment.

His clothes end up in your drawers, he starts going in to work with homemade meals that are obviously made by someone who graduated culinary school (i.e, not him). Love pours endlessly out of every crevice, and Spencer feels like he’s drowning in it. Spencer loves his apartment, it’s his home, but as somebody who also loves you he loves your apartment a lot as well.

It feels like every single time he goes over he finds out something new about you and the way you love, which is why he’s not quite so sure why it took him so long to notice the empty shelves in your room.

You’re on your phone, lying on your stomach with your feet by the head of the bed. Spencer is just coming back from the kitchen, your coffee order in his hand when he notices it. “Are you gonna put something on that shelf?”

You look up from your phone to see the shelf he’s gesturing to. Spencer can’t pretend not to notice the way that your face falls. “Uh, sure. I can if you want?”

Spence shrugs as he comes to sit down beside you. You wriggle up so you’re sitting and take the coffee out of his hand. “I don’t care, babe. It’s your room.” He plants a kiss on the side of your face and swiftly moves on. “I just remembered on Saturday I made plans with Kiana, so I’m gonna have to skip the library, I’m sorry.” He does seem genuinely sorry to be missing out on the time spent with you, you deflate subtly.

“That’s totally fine,” you return his kiss. “Tell her I say hi. I’m not done with my current one anyway, so I might just stay home.” You love the library, you spend a lot of time there, but you’re looking forward to a nice morning by yourself at home. Then, you remember the date and groan quietly under your breath. “Never mind, I have to go in to renew it anyway, or else I’ll get another late fee.”

You’d only ever returned a library book late once in your entire life, something that Spencer found completely adorable. Especially so the fact that you viewed it as such a big deal.

“I guess that’s the price you pay for them being free,” Spencer points out.

You hum, “I wouldn’t mind having one or two that I get to keep,” you say it so concretely, so nonchalantly. As though it’s not actually something you’re able to do.

“Why don’t you buy a couple?”

You glance over at the empty shelves. “‘Cause it’s like, childish?”

Spencer frowns, sitting up straighter. “Babe, do you think I’m childish?”

You rush to fix your mistake. “No! Of course not, that’s not at all what I meant-”

Spencer takes your hand, putting the empty coffee cup on your nightstand. It’s filled with his things and that makes his heart swell. “No, I know you weren’t calling me childish. But do you think I am?” When you shake your head, he continues. “I have like, video game bullshit all over my place. You’re not childish for having things that you like in your apartment. Plus, books are like the most normal out of all collectibles.” His eyes are deep and sincere and you roll your heels underneath you, moving so your legs are spread out in front of you. “You want books? Buy a million fucking books, babe.”

You sigh, biting your bottom lip. “I know, it’s… I used to have stuff on that shelf,” you admit. “I had a bunch of books, I’d been collecting some of them since I was a kid and everything. My last boyfriend he, well. Doesn’t matter, long story short, I came home from work one day and they were all gone.”

Spencer is probably the last guy you’d expect to see involved in a fistfight. He’s 5 '6, he loves Hawaiian shirts and there is video evidence of him Fortnite dancing. But more than that, though, he loves you, which is why his first instinct is to go find whoever it was that did that and fuck them up.

“That’s so messed up?” He can’t even wrap his head around it. “Babe, what? No, oh my god.” He can’t even formulate a coherent sentence. You love so liberally, so generously, that the idea that someone had thrown away something you love made him physically sick.

“I’m so sorry that he did that to you, that’s fucked. Not your fault you know how to read and he doesn’t.” That makes you laugh, your chest shaking as you lean into him. He wraps an arm around you and kisses your temple, rubbing your forearm gently.

He and Kiana have plans on Saturday, and he has no intention of bailing on them, but that doesn’t stop him from pulling out his phone and texting her, asking if she’d be willing to make another stop with him while they were together.

The next Saturday, you get home from renewing your library book to find your boyfriend waiting out the front of your apartment. He beams at you as you reach him and you don’t have to look inside the box to know that once you stop kissing him you’ll find the beginnings of your next book collection.

#spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew #spencer agnew fic #smosh x reader

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

Text

How You Play the Game Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After two days apart, the continuous phone calls and texts have Bradley running up to meet you near Los Angeles for game three. He likes all of it, every minute with you. And then you tell him that his favorite part is your favorite part, too.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, masturbation, oral, and smut (18+)

Length: 7100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

You woke up with Bradley's big arm wrapped around you. His alarm was going off, but he was still asleep. You rolled over so you were facing him, but he just pulled you closer.

"Where you goin'?" he mumbled, eyes still closed. "Stay here, Ace."

Your smile was enormous as you bit your lip. "Bradley," you whispered, kissing his nose. "You have to go to work."

"No." He pulled you impossibly closer as you laughed.

"Your alarm is going off." He muffled your words with his lips on yours, and he rolled you onto your back as he kissed you.

"Don't care," he murmured, pressing kiss after glorious kiss to your lips. But then you laughed, and so did he, because his alarm kept getting louder and louder. "Do not move an inch," he whispered, pinning your hands above your head on the pillow and easing himself away from you. "I'm serious, Ace. I want to pick up right where I'm leaving off."

You giggled as you watched him climb out of bed and walk naked across your hotel room. The early morning light filtering in through the curtains lit up his tan skin. He was beautiful. His skin still looked summer sunkissed, and you tracked him with your eyes as he located his phone on the floor.

"I told you not to move," he growled, climbing back into bed and crawling toward you, his big hands immediately holding both of yours.

"I didn't," you whispered with a smile, turning your head to the side as his mustache brushed your ear. Then he eased his body back where it belonged, right on top of yours. What a thought. He was already familiar. You shouldn't feel this comfortable with someone you literally just met. You shouldn't be thinking about the next time you were going to see him.

"Now where was I?" he muttered, frowning at you like he couldn't remember. "I think I was right about here." His kisses were probably the only thing you needed right now. Each one was more exciting than the last, and you wound your fingers in his pretty hair. He was hard against your thigh now, never shy about his reaction to you.

You wanted him. There were eighteen condoms left to use. But when he broke the kiss and ran his thumb along your bottom lip, you pouted a little bit. "You need to leave."

He shook his head just slightly. "I need to stay."

"No, no, no, Bradley. You told me to tell you that you had to go to work today. You told me last night to tell you that the planes won't fly themselves, and that you aren't allowed to spend the day with me."

"Never said that," he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed as his thumb grazed your cheek softly. "I'd never tell someone as pretty as you that I wasn't going to spend the whole day with them."

"Bradley," you whimpered, and he sighed.

Then he buried his face against your shoulder and kissed you there. "It's just that I want to spend as much time with you as I can. While I can."

He said he would get a ticket to game three just to see you. Just to be with you up near Los Angeles. Your voice was soft as you asked, "You'll really come to game three tomorrow night?" You felt vulnerable. You never felt this way. You had to have the biggest bark and the biggest bite in your line of work, and you were always ready to be on offense or defense. But you didn't feel like you had to try so hard with him. You felt like you could breathe and enjoy yourself.

Bradley's lips were on yours again, and then he said, "I'll buy a ticket on my lunch break today. And when I text you, are you going to respond?"

"Yes," you whispered with a grin. "As long as you go to work like you're supposed to."

"Yes, ma'am," he rasped. "I can't wait to see you tomorrow night. And I can't wait to read your article later today."

You were basking in the warmth of his words, but when his lips started a trail down your chest, you knew you needed to be the responsible one here. "Go. To. Work."

He groaned as he rolled off of you again and stood with his hands on his hips. You propped yourself up and looked up at him as he gestured toward the floor. "Eighteen more condoms. Am I taking them for safe keeping, or should I leave them with you?"

You tapped your lips with your index finger and asked, "Are you going to need them between now and the next time I see you?"

Bradley scoffed and said, "I already told you, Baby, I like you the best. I was only joking about the blue feathers. I'm absolutely not going to try to hook up with the other Ace."

"Go to work!" you said, howling with laughter as you launched the pillows at him one at a time as he tried to get dressed.

Then he had a big smile on his face as he picked up his Padres jersey and leaned down to give you one more kiss. "Keep this until I see you again. You looked so cute in it, thought you might want to wear it around."

You took it in one hand and wrapped the other around his neck to pull him close. Just one last kiss to hold you until tomorrow night. "Bye, Bradley."

"See ya, Ace."

He left in his jeans and undershirt, closing the door softly behind him. And then you were alone with his jersey, eighteen condoms, and the aching need to see him again. So you pushed your apprehension aside and decided to keep fooling yourself into thinking this was all a good decision.

-------------------------------

"You are distracted," Nat said as Bradley slid into the seat next to hers at lunchtime, his phone in his hand. You'd sent him a photo of you sitting at the desk in your hotel room wearing his jersey.

"Am I?" he asked, examining every inch of the photo before he started typing a response.

Nat gasped, and he looked up at her. "It's the sports writer! You went to the game!"

"I did," he said slowly, still typing a message. "And I'm planning on going to game three in Anaheim tomorrow night if I can find a ticket. And I'll probably go to each game after that too, because this is the kind of girl I've been dreaming of my entire life. She's cute, funny, smart, loves sports, and she's great in bed. And I just want to spend my whole day with her." He looked up and smirked.

"Doesn't she live in New York?" Nat asked, and Bradley could already feel his face falling.

"Yeah," he grunted, hitting send on the text message that said, "Let me take you home where you can wear all my clothes, and then I can take them all off of you."

"Be careful," Nat warned before biting into her sandwich.

"Weren't you the one who told me you could see me with six kids? Like a soccer player and a ballerina?"

Bradley hated the pitiful look she gave him. "I don't want you to get hurt."

That was the whole fucking thing. Bradley knew you could hurt him. It hurt the night after game one when he went home alone and then didn't hear from you in spite of the fact that he had given you his phone number. And it hurt him to think about you in New York where you lived, or in some other random city covering a sporting event. Because his home was in San Diego. And it would be next spring at the earliest before you'd be back to cover more baseball here.

"I'm not gonna get hurt, Nat. It's just a fling." As soon as he said the words out loud, he wanted to take them back. They were all wrong, and they made him feel dirty. He'd had flings before, and they didn't feel anything like this. He'd been having occasional casual sex with Shannon for probably a year, and she never lingered in his mind after he threw away the condom and watched her leave.

"Okay, well maybe you should reconsider going up to Anaheim tomorrow night?" Nat pressed. "I know I encouraged you to see her again, but maybe that's actually not the best idea."

"Nat, I know what I'm-" Bradley looked at his phone as another photo came through. In this one, you were lounging on the hotel bed where he'd spent the night with you wrapped up in his arms, still wearing his jersey. But it was open in the front, and your left hand was on your right breast.

Ace: I kind of miss you. I keep putting off leaving for my exclusive interview with the Angels' bullpen, because my hotel room smells like you.

"Fuck me," Bradley muttered, rubbing his free hand along his face.

Nat snatched his phone, and he let her have it. "Wow. Wow. Bradley."

"I know," he groaned.

"She's hot. And that message is beyond flirtatious."

"Yeah," he said, his voice precariously close to a whine. "Nat, I like her. I like how she writes her articles, and how I know her favorite team now. I liked how she felt in my arms all night."

"You slept over?!"

Bradley didn't reply. He just took his phone back and saved the photos. Then he sent you another text.

I'd rather you do an exclusive interview with me instead. I think you'd really appreciate what I have to say.

Ace: By all means, tell me what you would say if I interviewed you, Bradley.

I would say you look sexy as fuck in my jersey right now. And that thing never had it so good.

Ace: You're right. An exclusive with you would be much better.

"Now you're just ignoring me," Nat said as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. "I'm going to sit with Bob."

Truly, Bradley hadn't heard a word she said. He also hadn't eaten any of his lunch. He had to inhale his sandwich while he walked back to the classroom for the afternoon, because yes, he was distracted.

-------------------------------

Your boss was really riding you today. Apparently your submissions at 11:58pm after the first two games really had Greg Pfeffer rattled, because that was the first thing he said when you talked to him. The second thing he said was that he needed you in Boston as soon as you wrapped up in California. Apparently there was nobody else on staff he trusted to handle the Bruins head coach as well as you could.

You knew what your strengths were. You were smart, crafty and organized. But you were also a woman. And sometimes the men you interviewed responded to you differently than they would another man. In a good way. You always seemed to be able to get more information out of players or coaches than anyone else. Just yesterday afternoon you managed to get two of the relief pitchers from the Angels' bullpen to admit they weren't quite sure how to throw to the Padres shortstop.

And then one of them asked you out to dinner.

Never in a million years would you agree to that. You loved your job too much. And that was immediate grounds for getting fired right there. Honestly, there was no way he really thought you'd agree, right? Also, there was the fact that you'd decided it was better to eat some mediocre takeout back in your hotel room while you texted Bradley.

But now it was Tuesday morning. Game three was happening tonight. And those texts while you ate dinner had turned into a phone call with Bradley. The two of you ended up talking for two hours before you could hear him trying not to yawn. He had been so sweet, you had to threaten to hang up on him.

But you could still hear the last thing he said to you. "I should have driven up to see you tonight after work. Even just for an hour. Can't wait for tomorrow, Ace."

And what were you supposed to do now? You had hours to kill before you had to be at Angels Stadium. You were still wearing nothing but Bradley's jersey while you laid in your bed in the hotel across the street from the stadium just outside Los Angeles. You buried your nose in the fabric; it still smelled like him. He smelled so good. There was no way you could wait a few hours for him when just the feel of his Padres jersey brushing your nipples was making you squirm with need.

You let one hand slide down the curve of your belly, and when you closed your eyes, it was easy to pretend like he was the one touching you. Because his body had been as sure as your own, like he already knew what to do with you. Inch by inch, your fingers moved closer to their goal, and when you started rubbing your clit in slow circles, you thought about Bradley's voice. About the deep, raspy register and the way he called you Ace.

When you touched your breasts with your other hand, you realized your hips were already up off the bed, thrusting slowly as your fingers worked your clit. Images of Bradley's handsome face and flushed cheeks flashed through your mind. The eager look in his eyes when he touched you. The feel of his arms wrapped around you while he slept. The way his breath felt on your neck all night long. The morning rasp of his voice as he seemed to instinctively know he was with you in the still dark hotel room before he had opened his eyes.

"Oh, god!" you whined as you ran your nose along the collar of his jersey, inhaling his scent in short gasps as you clenched, imagining his heavy cock inside you. The swirl of your fingers became erratic as your hips thrust two more times, and you were coming hard for Bradley.

When your body collapsed back onto the bed, you were almost startled to open your eyes and realize you were alone. Your loud breathing and soft whimpers were filling the room, but you were too deliciously sated to feel embarrassed about what you'd done. You should probably be getting a shower so you had time to pre-write some of your article about game three. You had emails from Greg about your successful interview article with the Angels' bullpen to respond to. But instead you reached for your phone and texted Bradley.

---------------------------

Ace: How early can you get up here today?

It sounded to Bradley like you still missed him even though he hadn't seen you since very early yesterday morning. He read your exclusive interview five times today already, and he was wondering if you'd indulge him and read parts of it out loud later tonight. And then he groaned as he turned on a shower in the locker room. He'd probably barely make it to the game for the seven o'clock start time, and tomorrow was a work day.

Tomorrow was also game four. Bradley was the world's worst Padres fan at the moment, praying that the Angels would tie up the series and take this whole thing to seven games. Because he didn't even want to think about what his life was going to look like when the World Series was over and he was no longer running himself between two cities to see you.

He made the shower a short one, dressing in some snug jeans and a clean Padres shirt before running out to his Bronco.

I'm leaving work now, Baby. See you at the stadium?

You'd given him the address of the hotel you always stayed at along with your room number just in case he finished work early. You had also managed to procure a ticket in the nosebleeds for him to get inside the ballpark; he just had to give his name at Gate E. But he was going to have to turn around and drive the nearly two hours back to San Diego either late tonight or well before dawn tomorrow. He just hoped you'd want to see him again tomorrow night, because he would do it all again.

There was traffic. "Fuck," he groaned, actually pulling up onto a curb to go around someone. He ended up fighting through gridlock the whole way up Angels Stadium, cutting back and forth between the highway and backroads. He paid forty dollars to park in the preferred lot next to Gate E, and then he sprinted up to the entrance along with other fans who were hoping to make it to their seats before the first pitch.

Bradley gave your name and then his own at the window, and he was immediately admitted inside. "Can you tell me where the entrance to the press box is located?" he asked. The security guard gave him a long stare.

"Do you have credentials?"

"Nevermind," Bradley muttered, taking the ticket that was being handed to him and pulling out his phone. His heart was pounding as he listened to someone singing the national anthem while he fumbled trying to make a call. He placed his right hand over his heart, not wanting to be a complete prick as he picked a direction to rush off in as he called your phone.

"Hi," you said very softly when you answered. He loved your voice. Memories of the late night phone call filled with your soft giggles washed over him.

"Baby, how do I get to the press box?"

"Unmarked green door near section 133. I'll meet you there."

Bradley hung up and ran around the first base side of the concourse, narrowly dodging some teenage girls and a beer vendor as the singer wrapped up their rendition of the song. And then he saw the green door as it opened, and your eyes met his.

"Shit," he gasped, feeling his feet slow before speeding up again. You looked perfect, and your beautiful smile was just for him as you let the door close behind you and came running.

And then you were in his arms with your hands at the back of his neck and your lips pressed to his ear. "Hi," you whispered as you kissed along the side of his face just as the fireworks signalling the start of the game were launched, and the entire stadium was cheering.

Bradley carried you to the door as you laughed softly. "I liked your exclusive article," he told you. "Read it five times today." That earned him a kiss on the lips, and then he watched you pull your lanyard out of your back pocket to unlock the green door.

"I think you're my biggest fan," you replied as he carried you inside and set you down.

"I absolutely am, Ace." Then you were pushing his back against the wall, your lips ghosting over his in the relative private of the vestibule that opened up into the press area buzzing with people.

"I need you to be very well behaved tonight," you scolded with a little grin that made Bradley lean down and kiss you hard.

"I will," he promised, loving the needy little sound you made.

You ran your fingers along his neck as you said, "I have an assigned seat in here. And my boss has been on my ass all day. No spilling any beers on me, I don't care how badly you want to lick it off later."

"One time and I have a reputation..."

You bit your lip and looked up at him over your shoulder as you turned toward the other reporters. The game was about to begin as you pointed to some folding chairs, and he grabbed one on his way past. Then he wedged it in front of the countertop where your computer was sitting, between your chair and the wall. He sat down and then you settled in next to him, right there in his personal space.

Bradley was smiling at you, and you were smiling right back. "Stop distracting me," you told him, barely turning in time to watch the Angels' pitcher throw the first strike of the game. "You're very distracting."

He draped his arm around your back as you started filling out the pitches on your stat sheet and typing away at the same time. "Thanks for securing that ticket for me. Wouldn't want to miss the chance to see you."

"It was god awful expensive. Even for the worst section in the stadium," you replied without looking at him.

Bradley's jaw dropped. "You paid for it? I thought maybe you got it comped or something. I could have found one online myself."

You just shrugged as the Angels left the field only to be replaced by the Padres for the bottom of the inning. "I got it for half the price you would have been able to."

Bradley knew that was still at least five hundred dollars. "I'll pay you back."

"No," you said softly as you looked down at your keyboard almost like you were embarrassed. Then you shrugged again, a little more aggressively this time. "It's okay."

But Bradley cupped your chin and gently guided your face so you were looking at him, your eyes unsure and hesitant. "I'd have had no problem paying full price. I just wanted to see you."

He ran his thumb along your bottom lip as you asked, "Is that really why you're here though?"

Bradley's brow scrunched in confusion as he examined your face. He knew the game was going on, but you weren't fighting him about missing a pitch or two. "Why else would I battle through traffic for two hours?"

You swallowed hard and whispered, "Because you wanted to fuck me again."

Bradley's stomach dropped. That was so far from the truth. "No, Ace. I wanted to spend a little time with you." You were silent now, but you weren't looking away as he added, "Sleeping with you is incredible, sure. But that's not why I'm here. I don't have to drive four hours round trip to get laid. I have six pack abs. But in order to see you tonight, it required driving up from San Diego. And when I tell you that I don't care if you invite me back to your hotel room tonight or not, I mean it."

Then you were kissing him and tugging him closer to you by the front of his shirt. And the Angels must have scored, because the rest of the stadium erupted in near deafening cheers. But you still didn't care to look away and find out exactly what was going on. You just kept kissing him, and your hand skimmed up his thigh, and Bradley had to pull away.

"Ace, if you keep doing that, you'll make me look like a liar," he gasped as the cheering finally started to lessen.

You chased his lips with yours and asked, "What do you mean?"

Bradley kissed you one more time and then leaned back in his seat, glancing down at the fly of his jeans where he was plainly a little hard for you. His voice was a little tight as he adjusted himself. "Truly, sleeping with you is not my priority tonight, but you turn me on."

Your hand was still resting on his thigh as you turned toward your computer and typed one handed. "How embarrassing... logging in to SportsCenter to watch a replay while I'm sitting right here in Anaheim." But you were smiling, and Bradley let his hand come to rest on top of yours while he caught his breath. It took you a minute to get your score sheet updated correctly, and then you were focusing on the players once more. But your hand still brushed his leg, and your fingers occasionally laced with his as you watched the game.

Occasionally you murmured something about a stolen base or an earned run average, but Bradley was barely watching anything except you. All he knew was he hoped the Angels won. All he wanted was to stay with you as long as possible.

When you kissed him sweetly during the seventh inning stretch, one of the other writers turned and said, "You brought your boyfriend again, New York?"

"No, Jack. He's actually my intern," you replied smoothly. The older man just looked between you and Bradley and then turned around.

"Intern?" Bradley mumbled. "Damn. I got demoted. Someone called me your boyfriend the other night." You started laughing as Bradley said, "What's next? Your dog walker?"

"I don't have a dog," you told him, smiling at him brightly and squeezing his thigh.

He laughed, too. "You want me to be your personal food fetcher?"

"Now that is something I could actually use."

Bradley was on his feet immediately, filling a plate from the catering stations and grabbing a bottle of water.

-----------------------------

Nothing felt as rushed tonight. Sure, you kept pulling Bradley in for kisses in the parking lot on the way to his retro Ford Bronco, but you didn't feel the need to immediately drag him back to your room. Not when he looked so gorgeous in the moonlight. Not when you felt golden inside since the Angels had managed to pull out a win. There would be at least five games. You were hoping you had at least two more chances to see him.

You shivered as he opened the door for you. "Bradley," you said with a laugh. "I told you my hotel is just on the other side of the parking lot. It's the hotel I always stay in."

"I'll drive you over," he whispered, kissing your cheek as he helped you in. Then you gave him an appraising look as he closed the door and jogged around to the other side. Was he really not planning on joining you in your room? The idea sent a jolt of sadness through you. But tomorrow was Wednesday, a work day for him.

"Bradley?" you asked softly as he pulled out of the spot. You could already see your hotel from the end of the aisle, and he turned to smile at you.

"Yeah, Baby?"

You closed your eyes and whispered, "Do you have to leave right away? I want you to come up."

He didn't answer immediately. He pulled up to the entrance and put the Bronco in park and ran his fingers through his hair. "I wish I could say no to you. Just to prove my point."

When you leaned across the console and said, "I don't want you to say no to me right now," he shifted back into drive. You giggled as he pulled forward a little quickly and whipped into an empty parking space.

And then you were walking backwards through the lobby, coaxing Bradley along as he said, "I shouldn't be coming up with you. I have work in the morning. And I told you I'm just here for your company." But he was smiling, and he was the one to push the button to call the elevator.

Then it arrived, and the two of you were the only ones inside when the door closed. You tucked yourself against his chest when he opened his arms to you. "Just come up for a little bit?"

"A little bit," he confirmed, kissing the top of your head. "While you write your piece?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, kissing his neck. "Or you could stay for a while."

His arms were warm and so solid around you, and you heard him murmur, "I could stay for a while."

You pulled him down the hallway, laughing at the dopey grin on his face. "You could stay longer. We're only going to get a handful of these nights together. And I like it when my hotel room smells like you the next day."

He snatched the key card from your hand and unlocked the door, ushering you inside with his lips on yours. He tossed the key somewhere on the floor as the door closed behind him, and you dropped your computer bag with a soft thud.

"This is a nice room," he whispered against your lips as he untucked your blouse and got one big hand on your lower back.

"You didn't even see it yet," you gasped as he started sucking on your neck.

"I'll look at it later."

And then you were under him on your bed, both of you fully clothed except for your shoes. Bradley was running his lips and his mustache along your neck at such a leisurely pace, you were afraid you might actually melt.

"Is that my jersey?" he asked, his gaze moving to the pillow next to your head.

"Yeah," you whined as his tongue met the sensitive spot behind your ear. "I wore it last night and this morning."

Bradley groaned, and then you felt his hands at your waist and your hips. "I'm a weak man. A very weak man when it comes to you, Ace." And then his groan just got louder as you reached down for his hands and guided them slowly to the button of your jeans. He made quick work of it and the zipper, easing his fingers inside the waistband of your underwear. "Baby, you have an article to finish."

He kissed along below your belly button, and you whimpered as you said, "I'll finish it in time. I promise." And then he was yanking your pants down and pressing his lips to your bare thighs as he worked your jeans and underwear all the way down your legs and off. He settled in with his face buried in your pussy, just like last time. Just like the first time. You'd never been with a man so willing and eager to do this.

"You're fucking soaked," he moaned, lapping up along your slit before separating you with his nose and kissing around your opening.

"Bradley!" you whined, because he was already so invested. So you let him go for a few minutes, and it felt good. So good, you were almost convinced he could get you off this way if he took enough time to do it. But after a few more minutes, you tugged gently on his hair. When he met your eyes with his lips on your clit, he looked annoyed.

He released you, much to your immediate displeasure, and asked, "Why won't you let me get you off like this? You stopped me the other night, too."

You pressed your lips together and looked at the ceiling before you answered. "It'll take forever."

Bradley sighed, and a second later, a jolt of pleasure rushed through you. When you looked down your body at him, he was swirling one long finger around your clit. "I'm in no rush. Other than you needing to submit your article in an hour and a half, we've got time."

"You must like a challenge."

Bradley raised one eyebrow at you, but his finger never stopped that slow, delicious swirl that had you bending one leg and running your foot along his side. He kissed the inside of your knee before he looked at you and said, "This is not a challenge. This is a privilege, Baby. You just tell me what feels good, and I'll get you there."

You couldn't be sure if it was his words or the way he was touching you, but when your pussy clenched gently around nothing, you were whimpering his name and agreeing. And then his mouth was trailing the softest kisses along your folds. You could tell you were dripping wet by the way his tongue glided so smoothly along. And then Bradley reached around your hips and tilted your body up at a slightly different angle that had his nose bumping your clit while he ate you.

He kept changing things up. A soft roll of his tongue would turn into a nibble. And then the nibbles would turn into suction with just the most beautiful amount of pressure. But his mustache was just fucking special, the way it felt rough and yet so fucking necessary.

"Fuck," you whined softly. He was so good. But you'd felt this slow build before, and inevitably your partners ended up getting tired or annoyed by how long it took you. Bradley's movements were sure and steady, however. And now he was plucking at your clit with his lips, and your thighs tightened around his head.

"Good?" he asked, breathing a little heavy.

"Yes! Don't stop!" you praised, your hips rocking with each little grab and release of his lips. He squeezed your hips as if he was letting you know he would get you off like he promised, and then he swirled his tongue slowly around your clit before licking a long stripe down with the tip of his tongue.

"Do that again," you demanded, your voice barely a gasp. And once again he treated you to that swirl of his tongue. "Fuck." And the long stripe downward. "Oh."

"Again?" he asked, his voice raspy and amused.

You tangled your fingers in his hair and tugged as you said, "Don't you dare stop, Bradley." But he was already back at it with that perfect tempo and his prickly mustache. This time, when he licked down, he kissed his way back up, and you made the most desperate sound. "Again."

"I got you, Ace."

His tongue. His voice. His hands. His hair. His ridiculous nickname for you. "Oh god damn!" you whined, your voice breaking as you keened. The words and sounds were burning at the back of your throat before they could be released in a way that made any sense at all. And you rolled your hips slowly against his mouth as he cupped your body. You were close. So close. So-

"Yes!" you nearly screamed as tears stung at your eyes. Bradley grunted as you pulled his hair but he didn't stop. You were practically riding his face with one leg thrown over his shoulder when you felt yourself gush. His face was still buried in your pussy, but when he finally looked up at you, he was panting.

"Ace," he groaned, his face all wet from you. He was licking his lips like you were the most incredible thing he'd ever tasted in his life, and even though you were still enjoying some little aftershocks, you needed more.

"I want you to fuck me," you said softly, and then his wet lips and chin were on yours. And you did taste pretty incredible as he bucked his fully clothed body against your core.

"I won't last," he grunted. "Not after that. God, you're perfect."

Your body felt flushed all over from his compliment. "I don't care. I just want to feel you."

"You need to finish your article," he said, but he was already sitting back on his knees between your legs and unzipping his pants. He winced as he pulled himself free, his tip an angry, swollen red.

"Oh," you gasped, already clenching again at the sight of him. You scampered out of bed and nearly tripped on your way to your suitcase. "Eighteen condoms," you muttered, digging around until you found one of the double packs.

A few seconds later, you were rolling one of them down his length. He'd barely gotten his pants pulled down to his thighs by the time you were bending over the bed for him. And then he was filling you up, and his arms kind of caged you in. And his mustache was rubbing your neck. And your actual first name was on his lips. And you were thinking about things you knew you shouldn't. You were thinking about how much it was going to hurt when you left for the east coast.

------------------------------

Bradley would have been embarrassed that he only lasted two minutes, but you didn't seem to mind. "I'll be better for round two. You just really wound me up."

You bit your lip and smiled at him as he removed the condom. "Going down on me made you hot?"

He looked up at you like you had two heads. "Yeah. Hell yeah. I'd spend the whole night doing that if you'd let me."

You looked ridiculously pleased with yourself as you grabbed his Padres jersey off the bed and slipped it on. "Maybe tomorrow night," you said playfully as you walked toward the desk and grabbed your bag on the way. "You coming?"

Once again, Bradley had you perched on his lap while you finished your article. You were cutting it very close tonight, and he was helping you proofread as you wrote. "You misspelled umpire," he whispered, pointing to your computer screen.

"Thanks," you replied softly, correcting your error.

He didn't want to distract you at all, but he wasn't sure how long you wanted him to stay. It was three minutes until midnight. He was at least an hour and a half away from home. He needed to be at work in eight hours. But the way you were acting like he belonged with you was keeping his mouth shut.

You submitted your article at exactly midnight and then you turned to face him. "Are you ready for round two?" you whispered, grinning. "Round one with you was already way better than when I got off earlier today."

Bradley froze with you in his arms. "What the hell happened earlier today?" he asked, hating that he immediately felt a little jealous.

But you leaned in and kissed him softly, your lips brushing his as you said, "I thought about you while I got myself off."

"Fuuuck," he groaned, wrapping you tighter in his arms. "That's hot, Ace."

Bradley was still hanging out of his jeans, and his cock was rubbing your thigh as he got hard for you. You were running your fingers through his hair as you rubbed your pussy along his length. Then you reached behind you on the counter and held up another condom, and when Bradley nodded, you opened it. And then he was inside you again.

You went slow, with breathless fluttering kisses along his face. He tucked his hands inside the jersey, wanting to feel as much of your smooth skin as he could. "At least two more games," you whispered. "I have the Angels to thank for winning tonight."

Bradley laughed softly, bringing his hands up to your breasts but keeping his eyes on yours. "Let's keep this thing going."

"Mmhmm," you moaned. And then you kissed him like you and he had been doing this for years already. As if you knew what he needed. And maybe you did, because he was starting to think he needed you.

"Ace, Baby." You were coming for him, absolutely coming undone in his arms as you moved your body. He wanted to tell you to make it last all night, but it was too good. And he was right there, too.

As you pushed his hair back from his forehead and let your cheek find his shoulder, your phone rang. Bradley jumped a bit, but you didn't seem concerned.

"It's probably just Greg. My boss," you said with a kiss to his cheek.

"Okay," Bradley grunted as you stood and left him to dispose of the condom.

"Greg," you said calmly when you answered the phone. And then Bradley heard someone yelling at you. He was on his feet, brow scrunched in concern. This guy was loud, and you didn't even have him on speaker phone. And he wasn't letting you get a word in. You just hummed in agreement as you paced around the room, but when Bradley caught your eye, you headed back over.

"It's okay," you told him with your hand over the speaker of your phone. "He doesn't like my nearly late submissions," you said with an eye roll and then a smile. Then you gently pushed Bradley down into the chair again before pacing away. And he was suddenly inadvertently privy to your email inbox.

At the top was your article submission receipt which you were currently telling your boss was time stamped for midnight, and that you didn't actually need him to call you from home in New York where it was three in the morning. Then Bradley's eyes fell to no fewer than six emails that had all been sent from different media outlets this evening.

[email protected] Opportunities With MSN Sports

[email protected] Sports Writer Positions Open Now

[email protected] Looking For a New Opportunity?

[email protected] We Have the Perfect Position For You

[email protected] We Need You - Join Out Team!

[email protected] Join the Sports Team With Highest Salaried Positions

"Damn, Ace," Bradley muttered, eyes scanning everything he could see without scrolling down further. But something told him there would be more of the same if he did. Everyone wanted you.

"Sorry," you muttered, having ended your call without Bradley even noticing. And now you looked a little apprehensive.

"Your boss was yelling at you," he remarked as he stood.

"Oh," you said with a little shrug. "He's always like that. Ranting and raving is how he operates."

Bradley glanced back at your computer screen briefly. "Well I wish he wasn't shouting at you. Your articles are always the best."

You clearly wanted to say something, but you planted your hands on your hips and tapped your foot on the floor. "Bradley... I know it's late, and you have to get back home for work and everything... Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

He didn't have to think about it. "Yes."

And then your expression melted into a smile as you climbed into bed, still wearing his jersey. Bradley watched you pat the spot next to you, and he zipped up his jeans and climbed in as well.

As you yanked the covers up over both of you, Bradley pulled you close so your back was pressed to his front. "Will you come back tomorrow night? If I can get you a ticket?" you asked him so softly, he held his breath to make sure that was all you had to say.

As long as you were in southern California, he would come to you. "I'll be back up no matter what, Ace." And after you kissed his hands and laced your fingers with his, he added, "I can't believe you thought this right here wasn't my favorite part about being with you."

Your breathing was evening out, and Bradley thought perhaps you were already asleep. But then you said, "This is my favorite part, too."

-------------------------

She asked him to stay until she fell asleep. Oh, Ace. He's a mess already. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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redclercs · 2 years ago

Text

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

iv. you and me would be a big conversation

— the one where both of you have big reputations.

warnings: this one got a little long sorry, bashing towards charles and y/n (i love them ok), taylor swift references,2.6k words.

masterlist ✢ next

FROM DATF1GURL ON TIKTOK: "IS Y/N Y/LN AFTER CHARLES LECLERC NOW?"

[female voiceover]: ❝(...) while it is true she has a contract with Elix the new MAJOR sponsor for Ferrari—horrible drink by the way—rumor has it y/n's actual goal is to get the monegasque driver to spare a glance her way... Like, okay girl, but you left a 3-year relationship five minutes ago, chill.❞

IN pure Taylor Swift fashion, y/n y/ln has found her own ‘Getaway Car’ in none other than the 25-year-old Monegasque Formula 1 pilot, Charles Leclerc.

While nothing’s been confirmed, (come on now, what celebrity will just confirm rumors of their own free will in this day and age? Screw you, PR agents) the actress has been seen at two Grand Prix and the Elix contract gives her good camouflage for being constantly photographed with her new beau.

No matter how much sex-appeal these two exude, let’s not forget that we have a victim here: Aidan Kim. How can you leave a three year relationship with the man that gave you everything and not even two months later you’re already with someone else?

Is it a rebound or are we looking at something serious? In your humble writer’s opinion it’s most likely the former. And let’s not forget what Taylor Swift, in her infinite wisdom, said: “Nothing good starts in a getaway car”, it doesn’t matter if it’s a Ferrari.

SEE ALSO:

→ Aidan Kim buys new home in Sherman Oaks.

→ Every celebrity present at the Miami Grand Prix.

→ Is y/n y/ln really done with RomComs?

May 13th, Los Angeles, California.

“ARE you sure this is who you want as your rebound, babe?” Victoria places the magazine down and turns her head to look at you, using the precise force and tilt for her sunglasses to slide down to the tip of her nose.

“Stop reading that garbage,” you warn, not bothering to change your position in the chaise-longue, you don’t even look away from the script in your hands.

The day started pretty well, sunny Los Angeles made you feel hopeful for the first time in a while as you opened the script Mildred sent you when you got back from Miami. A drama about a young widow. You can work with that.

“I just mean—” Vic shifts her whole body in your direction, “—You have options, what about Timothée? I’m pretty sure the Kylie thing is fake. And he wouldn’t say no to you.”

“Stop that, Vic,” this time you do look her way for emphasis, you mean it. “I’m not looking for a rebound, or anything else for that matter. I want a job.”

“Fine,” Vic makes a show of capturing her lip between her teeth to pronounce the “F” and lies back in the chair. “I’m just saying…”

You’re glad to be wearing sunglasses, so she can’t see the way your eyes rollback. To be fair, you’re at Vic’s house so she has every right to occupy the same space as you at any given minute. Which is all the time.

After the breakup you ran to Vic’s Los Angeles home and left the SoHo apartment to Aidan. Vic's house is amazing, with eight rooms, five bathrooms, a black granite kitchen and of course, the pool. But you miss New York, even if you can fit your own room two times in one of Vic's. At least, according to rumors, Aidan is moving out of the apartment so you might be able to return to it soon.

“I think it’s bullshit that they see me breathing near a guy and suddenly we’re dating,” you drop the stack of papers on your legs, startling Vic with the sound. “Bullshit.”

“It’s just tabloids, babe.” Vic goes quiet, knowing she’s annoyed you and now you feel guilty about that too.

“I know,” you sigh, picking the script back up. Suddenly you don’t like it that much anymore.

Of course you know it’s just tabloids. People talk shit just for fun, but you’ve been their main target for a few weeks now and you cannot wait for them to move on. Which seems unlikely.

You've never been more glad about turning down a Yankees game invite.

Following Ferrari’s disappointing Sunday and the respective mandatory Elix pictures, you hung around the Suite a little longer in aims of gathering your thoughts and the will to leave to meet Vic at another after-party.

“Hola y/n! I thought you’d left,” Carlos carried his bag in one hand as he struggled to put his sunglasses with the other.

“I’m about to,” you smiled at him, locking your phone. “You too?”

“Yep, going straight to the airport. See you in Italy?” he asked, running his now free hand through his black hair, all set.

“See you there, Carlos.” you waved him goodbye before leaning back on the couch.

Vic had apologized for the shenanigans she'd pulled the previous night, saying she knew she should have asked you instead of just running with things. So you were looking forward to the after-party, it would be fun to hang out with your best friend after making up.

It wasn’t even five minutes before Charles came out too, hanging up a call in his half-destroyed iPhone.

“Oh hey!” He greeted cheerfully, the bad aftertaste from the race wasn't evident in his demeanor anymore. They had their debrief and Charles was willing to let go of the negativity momentarily.

“Hi Charles,” your not-as-cheerful tone didn’t bother him one bit. “Are you flying back today too?”

You couldn’t picture yourself in an eight hour flight after everything they’d done today, but they’re not really regular humans.

“We’re driving to New York, actually,” his hand hovered over the refreshment table, until he picked one of the leftover Elix. Charles examined the black can he chose before speaking again, “We’re going to a Yankees game tomorrow.”

“That’s very nice, Charles.”

He hates Elix as much as the next person so you can't help but wonder why he drinks them even when the cameras are off. Carlos and you never do.

“Would you like to join us?” He offered, the last word deafened by the click of the can as he opened it.

You took a few seconds to process the question, long enough for Charles to down about half the can in one gulp.

“Thank you, but I’m flying back to L.A. tomorrow.”

Charles' mouth went down in one corner and you were uncertain whether it was your answer or the taste that caused it. He tilted the can making the remaining liquid dance.

“Maybe another time,” he added, downing the rest of the blueberry flavored Elix. “Don’t worry.”

“Thanks for asking me, though,” you smiled, grabbing your purse from the couch. You had recovered enough energy already, and you didn't want to miss the DJ set at the party. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Thanks y/n,” his mouth was still frozen in that slight wince and you shook your head gently at the sight of the empty Elix. “I'll see you in Italy, right?”

“I’ll be there.” you assured, although you hoped not. But a week didn’t seem like enough time to secure a gig.

YOU land in Italy the day the Grand Prix gets canceled. Which is very much just your luck. It’s for the better, though, safety must always come first.

It makes no sense to run back to America when you have nothing else to do, so you resolve to stay in Rome and catch up with a few friends you have around. Matilde Bassi being the best among them, and she would rather die than let you stay in a hotel instead of her house.

"I said no," she repeats, and her accent—although barely even there— reminds you of Charles for a split second, before your brain lets go of the image. "I've told you a million times to come visit, I won't let you stay in a hotel."

You give up after that because you don't want to annoy her. Matilde has quite the strong character, which is the reason she got to Broadway in the first place. After years of being in New York, where you met her, she decided to move back to Italy. Mati, still pursuing her passion, is currently the European public's favorite Juliet.

The fact that all of this goes down in a phone call gives you time to pick up what little stuff you've gotten out of your suitcase and check-out of the hotel before Matilde gets there to take you to her house.

─────────

"So, how are you doing?" she asks, refilling your wine before moving back to the stove, where she's cooking your favorite Italian meal.

"I'm fine, I've told you," you chuckle, sipping the drink. Her house is beautiful too, and spacious, but it feels homey compared to Vic's. "Taking it easy."

One thing you tend to forget about Matilde is how she is able to see right through your bullshit, and that's exactly what she's doing now.

"You never take it easy, y/n. And I mean how are you really? How do you feel? A lot has changed for you lately." she flips her head back to remove a stray curl of hair out of her eyes, "You can be honest."

"I'm fine, seriously, Mati," you know drinking so fast will make the wine go straight to your head but you'll do anything to avoid really talking about this. Which is unfair, Matilde is being genuine.

"You moved from one coast to the opposite and you're fine? What are you working on right now?"

You sigh, managing to smell your own alcoholic breath. "I'm with Victoria, and I've lived in Los Angeles before, while filming, it's not a big deal. As for work... I'm just– picking some stuff out, seeing the best options."

Matilde nods and turns around to grab two plates from the sky blue cupboards behind her. "Are you planning on going back to New York?"

"Yeah, hopefully," you get up to help her and she gestures for you to take a seat again. "My name was on the lease and Aidan is moving out of the apartment, according to People Magazine, anyway so..."

"Your apartment was amazing," Matilde smiles, reminiscing the girls' nights you spent together while she worked in New York, it was always so much fun to be with Mati. "I hope you can go back. If that makes you happy, that is."

She manages to carry both steaming plates and the bottle of wine to the table, and finally sits down. "Well, enjoy!"

"Thank you, Mati, this smells amazing," you missed Mati's cooking so much because no matter how many Italian restaurants you visit, nothing compares to hers, and you're also glad to have something on your stomach that will make the effects of the wine go away.

Or that's what you hoped for anyway, because you're halfway through another cup of wine, almost done with your food, when you drop the grenade you've left unpinned in your brain for 2 months.

"I don't miss him," you whisper, resting the fork gently on the edge of the plate, between two of the yellow flowers painted on it. "Am I a horrible person because I don't miss him?"

You gave it a lot of thought ever since you took the plane from New York to L.A. the night you said no. You thought—still think—there's something wrong with you because the feeling that something was ripped out of your life and the hole that it left would never be filled never even appeared. There was no hole, it was a scar already, and you picked at it trying to make it bleed. But nothing happened. Nothing ever happens.

"You're not a horrible person, y/n don't say that."

You're glad Mati doesn't let silence fall between you, it would have made you regret everything that left your mouth, but she's already reaching for your hand and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

Mourning the idea of someone is worse than mourning their absence. And you had missed Aidan for a long time, even when he was with you.

"I just feel awful for leaving and not wanting to go back, I hate myself for being okay."

The rejected proposal is something you keep close to you still. You love Mati, and you trust her, but you cannot bring yourself to touch that subject.

Mati squeezes your hand, her food forgotten as well. "I'm glad you're okay. I liked Aidan, too. But you're my friend, and I love you and all I want is for you to be better than okay."

"Thank you Mati," it's her words that actually get the tears flowing, and you wipe them quickly with your free hand. "Sorry for dumping this on you so suddenly." you give a choked laugh before clearing your throat.

"I did tell you you could be honest," she laughs, giving your hand a last squeeze before letting it go. "How about we just go straight to dessert?"

You nod, grateful that she leaves to get the tiramisu you bought on the way home from the fridge so you can pull yourself together.

MONACO welcomes you the Sunday before the Grand Prix. Which you are excited about, for the first time in a while.

Matilde proves to be the best company once again, knowing her way around Monaco like it's her own home. You're glad she's attending the Grand Prix too and you were able to get her into the Ferrari Suite with you, unlike your failed attempt at Miami with Vic.

One thing you find out about Monaco pretty soon, is that they're obsessed with Charles Leclerc. He's in buses and billboards and you can see people waiting to catch a glimpse of him outside grocery stores. It warms you up inside that he's so loved in his own country, not many people can relate.

You don't love, however, that the articles online have brought attention to your presence in Monaco too. And although it’s far less than the one Charles gets for obvious reasons, the heat that comes from it is closer to ire than affection.

Still, you take photos with those who ask on your way back from dinner with Mati and ignore the “you’re here for your boyfriend, huh?” Questions that come from people with their cameras millimeters away from your face. Saying “it’s not like that” isn’t worth the effort because it won’t work.

May 23rd Montecarlo, Monaco.

Mati is introducing you to other celebrities that attended the All-Stars game, when Charles comes back from signing autographs to the part of the stadium where you are. He's messy, dirty and all dimples—again— which you start to find annoying. Although it's mildly sweet how he always smiles at you when your eyes meet, you cannot allow yourself to think of that too often. He's a nice guy, he's being nice.

"Hi y/n, I thought I'd see you until the weekend," he greets you, still drying off the sweat from the back of his neck.

You shrug, making way for a couple of guys who give Charles a bro hug, joke about the several mistakes he made during the match and then leave, acknowledging you in the form of a quick scan.

"Good game," you can't help the small laugh that follows the compliment, but Charles only smiles wider.

"I'm a natural," he replies, but takes his hand to the place he hit when he face planted. "Don't you think?"

"Definitely," you laugh again, raising both eyebrows. "I'm just glad you stick to racing."

"Me too," it's his turn to shrug, and run a hand through his damp hair.

“How was New York?” You look over your shoulder to Mati, who’s holding her own conversation a few steps away. “Did you have fun?”

“It was really fun, noisy, big. It’s a shame you couldn’t come.”

“Thank you again for inviting me. I do miss New York, but i had things to do.” You let the air out of your lungs hoping, albeit stupidly, he can’t see in your face that the things you did was read stuff on the internet about the two of you together.

“Oh you live in New York? That’s wonderful, so you know your way around. Lorenzo and I got lost.”

You chuckle gently. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Ready to go?” Mati puts an arm around you, smiling. “Hello, Charles.”

So it is true everyone knows each other in these circles.

“Hello Matilde,” Charles smiles back at her, “I won’t keep you any longer, y/n.”

“No worries, it was nice seeing you.”

“I’ll see you soon, maybe I can show you a place or two in Monaco.” Charles is very casual, but his eyes don’t leave yours for a heartbeat.

Matilde tilts her head and her ponytail falls into your shoulder, the small hairs tickling your ear.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks Charles.” You shake your head away from Mati’s and wave Charles goodbye as he walks by you.

“My advice,” Mati is still holding you by the shoulder. “If I may be nosy… You don’t want to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Charles Leclerc. You don’t wanna do that, y/n.”

You roll your eyes but Mati is unbothered by the gesture. “I’m not doing anything, Mati. He’s being nice, we see each other every weekend.”

“He is a homie hopper, trust me, run don’t walk.”

You tsk, making her shake her head this time. “If it makes you feel better, I’m not doing that, never, ever.”

And although you intend to keep your promise, the first thing you do once your phone is hooked to the hotel’s wifi, is google Charles and his reputation.

Even if you know better than anyone that the internet is full of lies.

─── team principal radio: ❝hello! i really enjoyed creating this chapter, especially the fake media so i hope you've enjoyed it too. thanks for reading!♡❞

✰ paddock club members: @majx00

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #cl16 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #f1 x y/n #cl16 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #f1 x you

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flodaya · 2 months ago

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yeah, plus if you are TZ scholar like we are, the way he answered the question to his living arrangements in the Richie roll podcast was completely different from what he had told Seth Meyers one year before. He didn’t deflect either. in my mind he didn’t kick them out overnight but it was like you have one year to move out. harry can for sure afford to buy a 2br apartment, haz might find it harder. funny because he was saying they’ve realized they need to live by themselves now…. watch Harry and haz become roommates or get roommates. it was all so clearly obvious. there’s no reason for haz to move to of the house. my thoughts are that this is why Daphne the dog came into existence. it might freak him out the idea that Zendaya might be home alone in London here and there without Harry haz or Darnell at some point if tom is away and he got a dog to protect the house her and their future kids. we know z has spent nights alone in the house without Tom but I don’t know if completely home alone. even when she went to the pub with Nikki and dom while darnell was in Los Angeles and the boys were golfing in Scotland it always had in-laws checking in on their daughter in law vibes to me

so we all agree, this is the moment

#ask

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lowkeyrobin · 11 months ago

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hiii :з can i request domestic hcs with quackity x reader where they just moved in with each other and basically figuring stuff out about living together

idk what domestic means in this context but I don't think I wanna know

QUACKITY ; living together

summary ; you and alex finally moved in with each other and you're figuring out your new way of life

warnings ; language

genre ; fluff

word count ; 687

masterlist

At last, you and Alex were finally living under the same roof in Los Angeles. You were living in a studio apartment for a while, but finally upgraded to a two story house just outside the main city with your boyfriend.

Money was the first problem that you tackled beforehand, which you got sorted nice and easily. The next was unpacking and buying new furniture.

You'd already took out some loans for new furniture since both of you either didn't have some furniture, or needed to scrap the old stuff you found off eBay for a scarily low price. The trip to the closest furniture store, about three miles away, was horrifying.

You'd never been a stickler with money, but coming up not having much of it sometimes taught you a great amount about fair pricing. However, when you saw a large number, you stood there awkwardly, wondering if you could afford it or if it was even worth it. Alex was the same, but he was more comfortable spending larger amounts of money on bigger things because he understood the expenses a bit better than you did.

All in all, you probably spent about two thousand dollars at that place. You'd ended up finding some good furniture off of eBay that you could go pick up that afternoon, and found a nice and free dresser set out by the road from someone who didn't want it anymore.

The house, now a month later, was finally furnished and you were in charge of decorations while he organized the kitchen and set up the PC's and other electronics. You two hadn't been doing much other than get used to sharing a room and a bed 24/7. You ended up deciding it'd be better to save that room for something else and have your bedrooms and office combined into one. If anyone wanted to snuggle in the night, they'd go to the other person's room.

It was mostly for privacy, and so you wouldn't end up fighting or beating the shit out of each other. You both needed downtime away from each other, a perfectly normal and healthy aspect of a relationship.

The next part, after setting your desktops up and decorating your rooms and whatnot, was getting into the routine of living together and not doing everything independently. Both of you were independent and didn't need to rely on each other, a good thing, but when it came to getting groceries or going out or streaming, talking about it and making decisions together would be the next step in moving forward.

Tiger was a whole conversation in herself. Alex decided he'd take care of her litter box and you decided you'd take care of her food and water. He felt bad making you take care of his cat, but you found no problem with it considering Tiger was like your child already.

The final steps were just getting used to living with each other and boundaries that came with it.

But, over time, everything would go great.

༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚

Quackity appreciated you bringing him food, water, or a hoodie on stream, and you did as well

Tiger walking into your streams >>>

even streaming side by side was a reoccurring thing

often times you'd play uno and have the handcam on in the corner

you'd give each other advice when editing videos and writing scripts

making dinner together with music in the background >>>

especially when he sings along/to you, good lord

you can't go a single day without cackling at each other

fighting and arguments are healthy for a relationship, but with you guys it's never serious, it's either over dumb shit you couldn't care about or you play fight with each other for laughs

sometimes he'll shout at you in Spanish to mess around and you'll stare at him like "tf are you saying"

if you do understand Spanish though, it's war

arts and crafts together go crazy

you start a little vlog channel together as well

it's run by you and he's only there sometimes but still

insta pictures of you two doing dumb shit 24/7

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #quackity x reader #quackity oneshot #quackityhq x reader #quackity #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #qsmp x reader

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starrykirsche · 2 years ago

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im the anon who requested the school one, and i loved it smmm thank you for writing it 🫶🏻

could you maybe do a tom x fem!reader where she wears his clothes for the first time and he’s just like.

yknow? and its all fluffy and like maybe a lil makeout or smth but only if you’re comfortable love!!

-💿

aaa hii 💿 anon!!! i’m so glad you liked the school thing i wrote i had so much fun with that one :3

Tom’s Closet for Two

Tom Kaulitz fluff fic (with mentions of sexual topics)!!

Tom clicks the door shut of your shared apartment and walks in. Stretching his arms over his head, he groans. “Meine Liebe? Are you home?” He calls out to you. You step out from the kitchen and smile warmly at him, “Oh, hey Tom, did you buy the angel hair like I asked?”

He stops in his tracks. A large T-Shirt of his, one of his favorites is draping over your body and engulfing your curves that he loves so dearly. Your legs are bare and he can’t help but look. It looks as if he's completely glitched out, and the gears in his brain are still turning. “What are you wearing?” He asks softly instead of answering your question.

“What?” You say, confused. Looking down at yourself you realize you’re wearing Tom’s shirt, “Oh! It’s laundry day, remember? I had nothing else to wear.“ He smiles and walks up to you, his hands finding your hips and a kiss finding your lips.

"You look so pretty in it," He purrs, "It suits you." Tom kisses your cheek.

You nervously giggle, "Thanks, but it's practically like a dress on me--"

He cuts you off by throwing you over his shoulder. You shriek with surprise before chuckling. Tom begins to carry you off to the bedroom. One of his hands is securing you on his shoulder by the small of your back, and the other is holding the back of your thigh.

As he sits down on the bed he pulls you onto his lap. Tom presses a kiss onto your lips and holds your body flush to his. “You look so beautiful,” He mumbles as he kisses you again. You giggle and pull away from the kiss.

“What is up with you all the sudden?” You ask as he begins to press wet kisses onto your neck. He grips your hips in his hands and pulls away from your neck, his eyes heavy lidded. You see him glance down at his shirt as it engulfs you and then look back at you again. Your face slightly reddens as you realize. "Oh." He leans in again and kisses you a bit more deeply this time. Tom's tongue presses against your slightly parted lips and pushes through into your mouth. Your fingertips trace the back of his neck as your free hand cups his cheek. He pulls away and the two of you kiss again, once, twice, thrice. Inhaling as much air as the both of you can between every meeting of your lips.

He moves his head down and begins to begin kissing your neck again. Murmuring compliments and praise to you. Something about you wearing his clothes flipped a switch in his brain, a switch that you intend to take advantage of. "You're just so pretty, mein Schatz," Tom mutters, his grip on your hips increasing in strength. He slowly pulls away and flashes those puppy dog eyes at you, "I swear I almost came in my pants when I first saw you in this." You try not to, but you can't help but laugh at this. Playfully pushing his shoulder, he just smiles at you. "Where did that come from?"

"The place I do all my thinking, duh." He glances at his crotch and then looks back up at you with a stupid grin. You pull one of your legs to the other side of his lap and move to get off his lap. Tom wraps his arms around you and presses kisses all over your face.

丰

Just like you knew you would when you realized his love for you in his clothes, you use it to your advantage...

"Sorry I'm late," You say to the rest of Tokio Hotel, "Tom here let me sleep in."

Tom chuckles but his smile falls when he looks over at you and realizes you're wearing his clothes. Older ones that don't exactly fit his tall stature anymore, but still his clothes nonetheless. You shoot him a cheeky smile and he just takes your hand into his. Looking back at his bandmates with a flushed face, he couldn't be any happier that he wears baggy pants.

deine, kirsche. ✮

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #fanfic #tokio hotel fluff #tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel fanfic #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz fanfic #x reader #tokio hotel smut #kaulitz twins #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #fluff

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flanaganfilm · 1 year ago

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Hey, Mike! Did moving to Los Angeles at the start of your career turn out to be all that you thought it would be? It’s a big step that a lot of people take, and I’ve never really heard you talk about those early years before. Did you ever contemplate quitting? And if so, I’m glad you stuck to it - we love your work!

Oh, I contemplated quitting many, many times.

I moved to Los Angeles in January, 2003. I had just graduated the previous summer from Towson University, and a group of five of us moved out together. Some wanted to be filmmakers, some wanted to be actors. We shared a 3-bedroom apartment in Glendale. The adjacent apartment was occupied by four other Towson alums. Between the two apartments, we called it "Little Towson." I didn't own a car at the start. I had no health insurance. I'd saved a few thousand dollars to get me through the first six months, but none of us had jobs at the beginning. I remember applying (and being rejected) for a job at Walmart. I combed Craigslist looking for non-union editorial gigs.

I had told myself I'd give it five years, and if I hadn't gotten any traction, I'd move back to Maryland.

People started dropping out pretty quickly. One of my roommates (and one of my best friends) had moved out here to be an actor, and only lasted a few months before he decided to go back. It's overwhelming and terrifying to take a leap into a city as expensive as LA, and you're surrounded by people who all want the same career that you want. But it feels like there is a thousand foot wall circling the industry, and it seems impossible to scale it.

I found work doing odd editorial jobs before working as a logger, than an assistant editor, then an editor on a few reality shows. I shot and cut those local car commercials you see on late night cable. And I frequently ran out of money and overdrafted my account. As more and more of our original group gave up and moved back East, I started to feel more and more crazy. A lot of my friends from school were getting married, buying houses, having kids. I felt pretty delusional as my 5-year deadline came and went, and I still hadn't found any way over or through that wall. When we started to talk about making Absentia in 2010, I had been in LA for more than 7 years. I was working two jobs as an editor. I found out I was going to be a father. It felt very much like whatever I'd wanted to happen by moving to LA was not going to happen. Absentia was kind of last-ditch effort. Ultimately, the five year plan I'd allowed myself when I moved to LA turned into a 9-year plan. I started shooting Oculus - my first "real" movie - in the fall of 2012, just shy of my 10th anniversary in Los Angeles. That movie wouldn't come out for a while after that, so by the time I actually had a career as a filmmaker, well over a decade had passed struggling in LA.

For most of that time, my refusal to move back to Maryland looked (and felt) like a delusion. Only afterward did it start to look like "tenacity." And it never felt like "persistence" or "determination"... it felt insane. It felt like constant, daily frustration and rejection. And when I couldn't pay the bills, or couldn't land a job, it felt downright embarrassing.

For what it's worth, the only difference I've seen between people who "make it" out here and don't are that the ones who made it all stayed long past their expiration dates. I've seen wildly talented people pack it up and head home. Talent helps a lot once the door is open, but really the only thing that opens the door is persistence. To the point of feeling insane.

#los angeles #film business #behind the scenes #I felt absolutely insane for almost ten years

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capcollector · 6 months ago

Text

BUNNY LEE SANTOS - SOLE SURVIVOR OF VAULT 111

PRE-WAR

Born June 14th, 2045 (32 in 2077)

Originally from Los Angeles, Bunny doesn’t really consider her life beginning until she landed her first modeling jobs. She became a highly sought after model, often photographed for commercial print and fashion, but she really took off once she began doing pin-ups. Her career as a pin-up girl made her famous, and everyone wanted to have Bunny Santos around. She was a party girl, known for her charm, quick wit, and dirty sense of humor. When it came to drinking and smoking and partying all night long, she could handle her own against just about anyone.

After many years living it up in LA with plenty of celebs, Bunny decided to move to New York for work. The change of scenery was nice, and she was still getting to continue the exciting lifestyle she’d grown accustomed to. At some point around 2075 or so, Bunny was invited as a special guest/entertainment for soldiers and veterans in Boston, and she decided to attend. And though she didn’t know it at the time, this was a decision that was going to alter her life forever. Here she met Nate, a soldier who’d recently been discharged due to a leg injury.

What she just assumed was a little playful flirting soon spiraled into actual dates. And initially, she really did have fun. A part of her really did fall in love with Nate. But just as suddenly he sprang a marriage proposal on her and she felt like she couldn’t say no. The two were married within a year of meeting.

Nate was a very adamant man. Someone who could be a little too dramatic for her liking, but she knew he meant well. Nate was determined to reenter the civilian workforce, and he dreamed of living that idyllic suburban lifestyle. Bunny, who made exponentially more money than he did, offered to buy a nice townhouse or apartment for them in the heart of Boston (since Nate insisted they lived in MA), but he refused, and the two landed in the suburbs, much to Bunny’s dismay. Suddenly it felt like her life was on hold, cut short by forces out of her control. She was no longer Bunny Santos, the favorite pin-up girl of the stars who always had a story to tell or party trick to perform. She was Bunny Santos, housewife. But she’d flash that million dollar smile and put on this role for Nate because…that’s what she’s supposed to do, right? As she had her internal crises, she discovered she was pregnant on top of all of this too. She wasn’t planning on this, but in its own way it made her feel less alone. Like she had someone to talk to, even if he was just a baby. Having Shaun gave her something to work for (ever the busybee).

THE WAR & 200 YEARS LATER

And of course, everything is completely upended. And though at the first the shock and loss seems too great a tragedy for her to bear, the end of the world became its own strange blessing in disguise. She found the freedom she’d been looking for again. She didn’t have to hide who she was anymore. Her life was her own again. That isn’t to say she wanted Nate dead, not at all. He was her husband, the father of her child, the charismatic man she’d met that evening who took her on some fantastic dates. She loved him. But she didn’t like him. She always felt like she inadvertently had to hide parts of herself to become this image of what he wanted their life together to be, and now that the world’s gone to shit and she’s on her own again, she can be in charge of her life once more. And her first order of business was getting her son back.

After stumbling out of the Vault shivering and confused, she predictably encountered Dogmeat first (after seeing Codsworth at the remains of her house, of course), which led her to Concord and helping out Preston. After aiding him in getting the survivors to Sanctuary, she gets directions to Diamond City and frantically makes her way there (though she actually ends up in Covenant first, but she leaves after a less-than-ideal encounter). Once in Diamond City, she learns about the Valentine Detective Agency and subsequently rescues Nick—even using her silver tongue to talk their way out of things with Darla and Skinny Malone.

Nick and Bunny set off together, determined to find Kellogg. After Nick and Bunny track down and kill him, they land in Goodneighbor for the Memory Den. They meet Hancock and Maccready, the latter of the two joining them after Bunny gives him some caps, while Hancock just keeps an eye on the new girl for now. Intrigued about what she keeps learning, Bunny and Nick end up at the Railroad, saved only by Deacon telling the others of her journey so far. After some back and forth, Bunny agrees to help the Railroad as much as she can now (doing things like runs with Deacon to get her used to their system), but she makes it clear that getting her son back is her first priority for now.

When she returns to Sanctuary and begins to help Preston and Sturges get the survivors more settled (as well as a little rest for herself), Preston brings up the Minutemen and her helping bring them back to former glory. Even as their leader. And she refuses. Bunny does not see herself as leader, nor does she want to be anyone’s savior. Preston disagrees, and keeps the offer open for her if she changes her mind. She agrees to help him out, but she does not want to be the general.

Being her usual self, she realizes she’s intrigued by the Brotherhood of Steel, if for no other reason than she wonders if their obvious firepower would aid her in finding the Institute faster than anyone else. She’s rightfully wary, though, as she’s spent a lifetime surrounded by Nate’s military friends and she’d do just fine without having to talk to another one. But if there’s one thing Bunny knows how to do, it’s how to talk her way around things. And over the last year (well, last year she can remember), she’s had a lot of experience talking to soldiers and the like. She knows how they operate. So when she and Deacon happen to encounter Danse and his squad fending off Ghouls, they step in to help. Deacon is unsure of her gameplan, but he trusts her enough to see where she’s going with it.

So for a while, Bunny has a hand in every faction. She ultimately spends the most time with the Railroad, mainly due to Deacon, and together with them they build the machine they need to infiltrate the Institute. But it’s around this point, right before they’re planning to send her in, that Bunny has a realization. She’s going to get her son back, finally, after all these months of work. And yes, the Railroad is gonna help her do it. But what comes next? The Railroad has their big plans for rescuing the Synths, and she agrees with their ideals, but what about the Commonwealth itself? It’s not like she can go home to California or New York (no one’s really told her what either of those places is like these days, oddly enough…), and she refuses to leave her new friends behind. They’re her whole world. Of course she’s staying here. But does the Railroad really have a plan in place for the future? With Shaun’s return imminent, Bunny has to ask herself: what is best for my baby? This weighs heavily on her mind as she’s sent to the Institute.

Her initial meeting with Father goes as well as you’d expect. She feels gutted. Not only by the obvious age difference, but more than anything by what he’s become. The way he looks at her. How cold it all feels. How dismissive he is of the world and the people above ground. Her baby—who before all this was all she had, the only thing in this world that made her feel less alone—is all at once a force that is entirely unfamiliar to her. There is no relief in finding Shaun. He isn’t Shaun. He doesn’t even respond to that anymore. There is no grand catharsis, no joyous reunion, no love. She feels as empty as she does the day she woke up from her cryo chamber.

When she returns to the surface, it’s all work for Desdemona and the others, though Deacon can see on her face that clearly something wasn’t right, but he doesn’t push the issue.

Maybe she can’t save Shaun, maybe it was never possible. To her, Bunny, Nate, and Shaun all died in that Vault. A piece of her was left behind there. A part of herself she could never return to. But she has to deal with what’s left of herself today. Now. And she’ll have to deal with herself tomorrow. And the next day, and the next. So she goes to Preston and agrees that she’ll seriously help him revive the Minutemen (something he’d already been working on without her, but her presence will help expedite things—especially since she and Hancock just so happened to already clear out The Castle a month earlier on a whim), if he just gives her a little more time.

Bunny returns to the Institute not long after. She’s not sure what to do. She’s been given her tasks by the Railroad, sure, but her meeting with Father gnaws away at her. The things he said. The disregard for the people above ground. That same stubbornness, that same insistence. She goes to him again. He talks to her frankly, because surely she’s planning to live the rest of her life down here. Surely she knows this is what’s supposed to come next.

What happens next is a blur. She is banished from the Institute. Did she do it because she wanted to get banned? Because she wanted the Minutemen to be in charge of the Commonwealth’s future? Did she do it to quell an anger she didn’t know she had? In an uncharacteristic display of vagary, she made a choice that once again would change everything. But this time she knew it would.

She’s alone in the dark when she’s returned to the surface. No one’s around. No one came with her. The night is uncharacteristically quiet on the walk to the Old North Church. When she admits to Desdemona she’s been banished from the Institute, Dez does not press for why. Deacon watches solemnly across the table. He’s not sure why either. And he will never know.

But in comes the Minutemen, here to see the Railroad’s plans through, though more importantly to the Minutemen themselves, the future of the Commonwealth altogether. And when the time comes to finally destroy the Institute, Bunny asks the one person who’s been her anchor through it all: Nick. When they watch it blow up before them, amidst the cheers and congrats from the Minutemen, Bunny just silently grabs Nick’s hand and leans her head against his shoulder. Things can begin again.

POST-MAIN GAME CANON

Once all is said and done, Bunny feels a newfound sense of motivation, something to work towards and continue. She begins to focus her time on building up the settlements, especially Sanctuary and the nearby Red Rocket so Shaun (the Synth) has a nice place to live. She’s determined to make this work. She’s determined to have her life back, to be in control of it again, to do things right.

I think in her canon the next big “story” she goes on is Nuka World, though it’s initially framed as Bunny and Hancock’s bender gone wrong. One minute you’re planning to get drunk and high and ride faulty amusement park rides then the next you’re in a fucking death match with a guy in electrified power armor. Once they deal with everything there, and after having several profound moments together as they reflect on everything that’s happened and how they wanna move forward, they get back to the Commonwealth. Bunny and Deacon finally make things more official, for one, and shortly after their return, Bunny and Hancock encounter Sop @radroachrepellent’s Cherry and save her from a Deathclaw. But more on that another time. This post is long enough and I’ll probably make longer separate posts for the DLCs and how they play out in Bunny’s canon so I’ll just put it simply that I think the DLC order for her goes:

Nuka World -> Far Harbor -> Automatron (a varied amount of weeks between each one)

Sop and I are working on a joint story together that we’ve named the “Electric Eden DLC” which will get its own post eventually, but that one takes place about close to a year after the events of Far Harbor.

I was gonna include a section on the Companions, but this came out way longer than I thought it would, and I wanna draw a lineup of all the companions, so I think I’ll save it for that. I guess the important thing to note is that Bunny and Deacon end up together (here’s a piece of lore for them).

MISC

Bunny’s strength lies in her ability to talk to others. Though she’s physically not the strongest or most agile, she can very notably talk her way out of a lot of things. She knows how to read the room and the people within it, and she knows how to use that to her advantage. A lifetime of schmoozing with celebrities translates well into survival situations, she’s found.

She loves to plan ahead and be stealthy when she can. Since she’s pretty small comparatively, she prefers to use guns and ranged weapons so she can keep her distance and stay hidden when possible.

She loves to pick up stuffed animals she finds on her journeys and keeps a teddy bear clipped to her belt.

Can handle her alcohol and will use chems on occasion. Social chem user, or something.

Dirty sense of humor and fun-loving, despite everything that’s happened. She’s made a point to not lose that part of herself. I think her and Hancock deciding to go on a Nuka World bender is evidence enough.

She knew how to lockpick before the war! It was a party trick of hers.

Okay this is long enough. Anyway I’m more than happy to answer any asks about her/her canon, and if you read all of this, thank you!

#EDIT‼️ PLEASE NOTE: some of this is outdated info as i rework my fo4 canon. just keep that in mind #bunny santos (sole survivor)#my art tag #fallout 4 #fallout

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