#Where am I? What happened? Who are you? What’s happening?
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match one [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]
synopsis: y/n's struggling with harry's coaching before the first tournament and harry's feelings control him more than he controls them
word count: 10.2k
contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals, strict parents, fluff, harry being a boy and not being able control himself around y/n
this is part 2 of the game, read part 1 here
. . .
“Again,”
Y/N gritted her teeth and bounced the tennis ball on the ground before throwing it into the air with a straight arm and hitting it with the racket, watching as it pierced through the air to the opposite end of the court.
She heard a sigh come from the bench on the side of the court, “Again,”
She inhaled sharply through her nose to try and contain her temper as she repeated the same serve.
“Again,”
Y/N spun around on the heel of her New Balance trainers, her pleated, white skort twirling as she did. She crossed her arms and glared at the boy lying on his back in his school uniform which was now crinkled and unkempt after the school day. “You’re not even watching,” She replied for the first time after having done the same serve more than ten times already.
“I don’t need to, I know you’re not doing it correctly,” He replied, monotonously.
She clenched her jaw, “Well as my coach, aren’t you supposed to show me how I’m meant to do it correctly?”
“I can show you but it won’t change anything,” He said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He sighs and sits up, “You already know how to do a flat serve, I’ve seen you do it. You’re just not hitting it hard enough. I can hear it in the way the ball lands on the other end of the court.”
“You could have just told me to hit it harder,” She retorts.
“Am I meant to play the game for you as well?” He quips which makes her blood boil.
This was their third training session, and Y/N had reached her limit. With her first proper tournament just three weeks away, she had hoped that seeking help from the best tennis player at Crestwood would elevate her gameplay.
However, Y/N was getting frustrated with each session being a monotonous repetition of drills she had already learnt herself. It grated on her nerves and she felt as though she was back to square one.
She was beginning to regret having enlisted Harry for his mentoring in the first place. Whenever they’d try to talk mutually to each other, it would just end up in an argument of some kind where they’d end up needing ten minutes to cool off.
Y/N had already qualified for the Academy Slam before she even asked Harry to coach her. There had originally been sixteen academies from the surrounding counties competing in the games and now there were only half and Y/N was one of them. She’d passed the qualifiers all by herself and maybe she could pass the games that way too.
“Again,” He said that one word Y/N was beginning to hate.
Who knew what she was capable of if she had to hear that word one more time.
Feeling a surge of anger, Y/N tossed the ball into the air and hit it with all the strength she could possibly summon. She watched as the ball made a fast and straight trajectory towards her target area which just so happened to be right beside Harry’s place on the bench.
He jumped up, a look of surprise on his face. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed, eyes following the ball as it hit the fence.
Y/N's smirk wavered as he approached her, her surprise matching his when he spoke again. "Let's move on, shall we?"
By the end of the session, every inch of Y/N's body throbbed with exhaustion. She drained an entire water bottle in one go, her fitted polo shirt clinging to her damp skin. She had thought she'd engaged every muscle in her body, but the way her calves screamed at her with every step told a different story.
“Same time tomorrow?” Harry asked, standing above her and blocking the sunlight.
“I want to start training properly,” Y/N stated.
“We are training properly,” He argued.
“You realize you haven’t shown me a single tactic since you started coaching me right?”
“And?”
“How am I meant to win the first tournament if all I know how to do is basic drills?”
“Do you know how many times my coach made me practice flat serves before we could move on?” He asks but she doesn’t answer, “A month. I went home with blisters on my hands because I was doing them non-stop six hours a day.”
Y/N’s eyebrows raise, “You think tennis is just about being tactical then you’re not playing it properly. The only way you’ll ever be a good tennis player is if you master the techniques.” He explains, “I’ve seen you play Y/N. For someone who has never had professional coaching, you are one of the best players I’ve seen but you lack confidence in your technique. That flat serve you just aimed at me? One of the best flat serves I’ve seen in a while. If you can do that in every game, you’ll have no problem winning but if you want tactics? I can draw you a diagram and it’ll save two hours of my day no problem.”
Y/N tries not to show her surprise at his words. Instead, she takes them all in, “Shouldn’t we at least be analysing my opponent?”
She was playing against Vanya Maddison in her next game. She was tall which was a major advantage in the game but her spatial awareness wasn’t exactly on par.
“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.
“My speed?” Y/N frowned.
“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.”
Y/N had no idea whether to take it as a compliment or not. She’d never heard Harry say anything good about her so was taken off guard by his words. “So are we still on for tomorrow because I have to meet Mitch in thirty minutes and if the answer is no at least I can actually plan on getting wasted tonight.”
Y/N took a moment to think. She had never expected him to say something positive about her, especially about her anger. It was a side of herself she often struggled to control, but hearing Harry acknowledge it as a strength left her feeling conflicted.
As much as she considered training on her own which would give her some peace and quiet, she wanted to see where her training with Harry would go. If he was right, maybe she’d actually have more of a chance of winning than she did on her own.
She stood up and put her gym bag over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow,” She walked past him, wanting to avoid the satisfied grin on his face.
“Y/N!” Harry called, she could hear him jogging towards her before she stepped out of the courts, “I wanted to give this to you.”
He placed in her hands a cassette tape with white masking tape on it with the words ‘Y/N’s theme songs’ scribbled onto it in black ink. “What is this?” She asked, looking up at him.
“When I was in Australia, I used music to help me get in the zone before a match. My coach told me to use a cassette tape because phones were too distracting,” He explained.
“You made this for me?” She frowned.
“What? You’ve never been given a gift before?” He chuckles.
Y/N looks down at the plastic in her hands. It’s not that she’d never been given a gift by anyone before- she and Sarah always exchanged gifts over Christmas and for each other’s birthdays- but it was rare for her to ever receive anything from anyone else. Her parents would often give her practical things at Christmas or transfer money into her bank account on birthdays.
Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at her lack of reply but she cleared her throat, “I don’t have a cassette player,” She said but Harry quickly removed his backpack and pulled out a walkman.
“You can borrow mine,” He handed it over to her, “I won’t be needing it anytime soon since I’m not playing,” She noticed the downcast look in his eyes as he mentioned the fact he wasn’t currently able to play with his injury.
“Um, t-thanks?” She said, unsure of how to respond to his sudden kindness. It felt unusual.
“I picked a few songs that reminded me of you,” He smirks, “Don’t worry, they’re not all about a girl with an attitude problem.” With that he turned back around and walked towards the other exit to head to the car park.
She felt ease on her chest as the usual teasing remarks returned, “Asshole,” She called out to him to which he just put his middle finger up in reply.
. . .
After taking a long shower in the girl’s shower rooms in her dorm block, Y/N headed back to her dorm after changing into a white shirt and sweatpants. She could feel the strain in her arms and legs as she flopped down onto her bed.
Luckily Sarah wasn’t back from spending time with Mitch, so she took in the peace and quiet which came rare to her these days as all her mind had been on recently was the Academy Slam.
Her mind wandered off to Harry and his words from earlier. Y/N knew she was a good tennis player but it was the first time she had heard someone else tell her that. She wasn’t expecting it, especially not from her tennis rival of the past ten years.
Her eyes glanced at the cassette tape and the walkman she had placed on her desk before she headed off to the shower. Sitting up, she grabbed it and stared down at it for a moment before putting the cassette into the player and putting the headphones on.
She laid back on her bed and looked up at the ceiling of her room. Her fingers hit the play button and the first song began to flood her ears. The first few beats of Nelly Furtado’s ‘Maneater’ began to play and she immediately rolled her eyes. Then afterwards, ‘Fergalicious’ by Fergie.
She wondered how many songs Harry had managed to put on the cassette and how many were female anthems of empowerment.
The next song seemed to catch her attention even further when Gorillaz ‘She’s my collar’ began to play. The beat now permanently injected into her bloodstream along with the rest of the album from the number of times she had listened to it.
She wondered if Harry had known he had included a song by one of her favourite bands and whether he knew the meaning behind the song too. Maybe it had been a coincidence which was a thought Y/N had decided to settle on as she listened to the rest of the song.
‘Nothing to be justified yet
She the first I'm running with
She the one that get my collar
She the one I'm running with (she's my collar)’
. . .
The next day at school, Y/N sat in the library during her study period to study for her biology exam at the end of the week. Even though she was set on the scholarship, she still needed something to fall back on if she lost out in the next few games so she made sure she was still getting the best grades she could. It had also been ingrained in her to be the best in every class and she didn’t think that trait of hers would ever leave her.
“Y/N!” Sarah called, her voice echoing within the silence of the library.
Ignoring the irritated glances she received, she paced towards Y/N and sat in the empty seat beside her. Y/N smiled at her friend’s excitement. They were foils to each other and that’s what made them get on so well. Whilst Y/N had a black cat personality, Sarah was sunshine in a person which was probably why she was so perfect for Mitch who was equally as bright. “What’s up?”
“I need to ask you something and you’re probably going to hate me but Harry’s already said yes and-”
“Sarah,” Y/N placed her hands on her shoulders, “Breathe.”
Sarah did exactly that before continuing, “Would you do a feature with Harry for the school newspaper?”
Y/N frowned, “What?”
“The school newspaper? You know the club I’ve been part of for the past two years? They want to do a feature on your training for the sports section and I told them I would ask you.” Sarah explained.
“Oh I don’t know about that-”
“Pleeeassseee,” Sarah gripped her arm that was resting on the desk and batted her eyelashes.
“You know I’d do anything for you Sarah but I don’t know if I have the time and my focus is on my next game,” Y/N replied.
“Harry’s already said yes to it,” Sarah interjected.
“You asked him before me?”
“Well actually,” Sarah hesitated, “Luke, the boy who’s writing the article, asked him this morning,”
“Why didn’t he ask me?”
Sarah gave her a pointed look, “You’re not exactly the most approachable,” Y/N’s frown deepened at her words, “So will you do it?”
Y/N sighed, considering it before giving Sarah an answer. The last thing she wanted was for someone to be asking unnecessary questions in time that could be used to train for the first round of the competition but Sarah was her best friend and she knew how much the school newspaper meant to her and her university applications too.
“Alright,” She relented, “I’ll do it.”
Sarah squealed, receiving another round of vicious glares from other students in the library. Her arms wrapped around her in a tight hug, “Thank you,” She pulled away, “They’ll come by tomorrow afternoon during practice, is that okay?” Y/N nodded a response.
. . .
It was raining outside.
Y/N’s eyes stared out the window as she bounced a tennis ball on the hard floor of the gymnasium and wondered if the weather foreshadowed the next hour.
“Will you sit down?” Harry muttered, “You’re giving me a headache,”
“He’s late,” Y/N says, “We could have been practising,”
“Do you ever just do anything else?” Y/N shot him a glare at his sarcasm, “I get this is important to you but don’t you just want to, I don’t know, have fun?”
Y/N walked over to her seat right next to his and straightened herself for the interview the school newspaper had organised for them. Sarah had told both her and Harry to dress smartly for the occasion which, according to Harry meant a designer sweatshirt and trousers whilst Y/N had gone for a dress and pumps. It wasn’t overly smart for either of them but enough to make it seem like they had made an effort.
“The fact that you’re even suggesting that tells me you have no idea how important this is to me,” Y/N responds, monotonously.
She hears a scoff from beside her, “What?”
He turns to face her, his face rather too close, she notices three moles on his right cheek that she hadn’t ever seen before, “I think I know better than anyone how important this is to you but I also know from experience how important being in high school is with people your own age.” She forgets sometimes that even though he was whisked away to fulfil his place in the Australian Open, that his time of being a kid was cut short, “I don’t go out of my way to coach just anybody,”
“What do you mean?” She frowns but before Harry could reply, the doors to the gym open and in scrambles a sixth year with a messenger bag and a tripod with a camera dangling from his neck.
“It means,” he leans forward, murmuring, “if you had half the belief in yourself as I have in you then you wouldn’t need me at all.”
“Sorry I’m late,” Luke’s voice echoes as he steps towards them and places all three legs of the tripod on the ground and scrambles to screw his camera to it.
“What’s with the camera?” Y/N asked.
“O-oh, we’re recording the interview so I can write everything up later and we’re going to need your pictures together afterwards,” Luke explained.
“You want us to take a photo together?” Y/N frowned.
“Did Sarah not tell you?” Luke replied.
“Calm down, love. It’s just a photo,” Harry murmured and she tried not to react to the nickname he had used for her.
Once everything was set up, Luke sat across from them with his laptop on his thighs, questions already typed out, “So, you two have known each other for a while now?” Luke asked as he sat across from them.
As Y/N was about to tell him how they didn’t exactly know each other on a personal level but knew each other through tennis, Harry spoke up, “Since we were both in third year. I was eight and Y/N was seven but we’ve been in the same class since we were infants.”
Luke nodded, “That must help a lot in your partnership,”
Harry chuckled lowly, “Something like that,”
Luke types a few things down in his computer before turning his attention to Y/N, “Um, Y/N what made you turn to Harry for his coaching other than the fact he won the Australian Open?”
Y/N frowned, what more reason did she need to give? “Well, the fact he won is a big reason as to why I approached him,”
“But isn’t he injured?” Harry stiffened beside her. The way he asked made it sound like he was defective, unusable.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “Yes but I’ve seen Harry play games with a dislocated shoulder. He’d just pop it right back in and start playing again. His current injury doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s one of the best tennis players I’ve seen at Crestwood.” Y/N ignored the looks from the two boys. She knew she’d have to compliment Harry at some point during this interview, especially if they needed to show a united front for the games.
“And do think the same about Y/N?” Luke asked Harry who now seemed irritated by him.
“I think,” Y/N was prepared for a backhanded compliment but what she got was something entirely different, “Y/N has all the potential in the world to go for what she dreams of and I hope to watch her do it all even if that means I’m watching from the sidelines.” This time it was Y/N’s turn to glance at Harry, taken aback by his words.
Luke spoke again, “You know some people are calling you the underdog in this tournament?” Y/N froze, it was the first time she had heard of it, “all the other women competing have had professional coaching and the school invests heavily in their tennis players.”
Y/N cleared her throat, “I didn’t know that but I have every intention of proving them wrong,” Harry bumped his knee with hers but she ignored it.
“And What do your parents think about you doing this before leaving exams?” Luke asked.
Y/N ignored the sting she felt at the thought of telling her parents what she was doing and the looks of disappointment she envisioned, which had been gnawing at the back of her head since she qualified. She answered confidently, "They're happy for me and excited to see me in the final."
Harry furrowed his eyebrows as Luke leaned in, his expression curious. "You think you'll get to the final?"
Harry scoffed, “Are you insinuating she won’t?”
Luke backpedalled slightly, sensing he’d struck a nerve. "I didn't mean to suggest that at all. It's just that some people doubt the capabilities of those who haven't had professional coaching."
"Hey Luke, do me a favour and invite those people to the first game in three weeks' time. Let them witness firsthand what it's like watching a player as skilled as Y/N, without any professional coaching," Harry's frustration was palpable, catching Y/N off guard with his assertiveness. Typically, she would be the first to break in such situations but it seemed Harry already had.
Luke’s face warmed as he realised he overstepped, “R-right, let’s move on.” He scanned through his list of questions to find something more light-hearted to break up the mood, whilst Y/N straightened her shoulders, thankful they’d gotten to the final round of questions. “What do you both like to do outside of training?”
“Together?” Y/N cringed, trying to picture spending time with Harry in a normal setting.
“Not necessarily,” Luke shrugged.
“My best friend is dating her best friend so we’ve been spending a lot more time together recently. Normally, I play guitar or recite poetry whenever I’m not coaching Y/N to volley properly,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the lies that left his mouth.
“I study,” Y/N stated.
“That’s it?” Luke’s eyebrows creased.
Her cheeks turned slightly pink, “I’m top of the class in all of my classes, that doesn’t just happen without hard work.”
She could feel Harry’s eyes on her and for the first time, she turned her head to catch his eyes. She noticed the frown on his lips and something in his eye that looked a lot more like concern or sympathy than the desire to tease her about her lack of social life.
“Well, I think that will be enough,” Luke stood up and grabbed his camera, “Do you mind if we take a few photos now?”
Y/N and Harry stood from their seats, side by side and looked into the lens of the camera. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from forcing a smile as Harry did the same, “You’re standing too close to me,” Y/N spoke through her teeth as the camera flashed.
"Look who's talking with their giant foot squashing my shoe," Harry retorts, a playful glint in his eyes. Y/N inhales sharply, her gaze dropping to her foot to see what he's referring to. But before she can react, Harry smoothly slides his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side with practised ease. Their eyes meet, and just as the camera flashes, capturing the moment, Y/N side steps out of his grip with an annoyed huff.
“Okay, that will be all,” Luke smiled.
As Luke packed his things away, Y/N and Harry stood awkwardly side by side without saying a word. Y/N glanced out the window and saw the sky had cleared up and the sun was setting. She needed to get back to her dorm to study for her French exam tomorrow as well as binge-watch tennis matches on YouTube which she’d been doing a lot recently.
“Did you really mean that?” Harry asked, catching her attention, “All you do is study outside of school?”
Y/N looked at him, “I hang out with Sarah some days but yeah, I mostly study. I don’t really have a lot of choice and I’m not naturally smart.” Harry’s head tilted to the side like he was secretly questioning her in his head, “What? Aren’t you meant to crack a joke about me being stupid or something?”
Harry's eyes softened, his voice gentle. "I could never think you're stupid, love," he said, the nickname slipping from his lips with a tenderness that caught Y/N off guard. She found herself speechless, unable to figure out what had gotten into him recently.
He pulled out his car keys from his back pocket and motioned his head towards the gymnasium exit, “C’mon,” He urged, “I wanna try something out and before you ask, it’s nothing to do with tennis or studying.”
Y/N’s feet stayed glued to the ground as he walked away and expected her to follow. She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms, wanting to refuse his invitation so she could get back to her dorm. But curiosity got the better of her and she followed a few paces behind him as he led her to the empty car park.
Harry pressed the button on the car keys and the lights flashed on a black Audi hiding in the corner, “What are we doing?” She asked.
“Have you ever driven a car before?” He wondered, looking at her with a hint of mischief.
“Never,” She replied and was bewildered to see him open the door to the passenger seat instead of the driver’s seat.
“Looks like it’s your lucky day, love,” He smirked.
Y/N’s eyes widened, “N-no! Harry, I'm not driving your stupidly expensive car.”
“C’mon,” Harry chuckled, “Don’t be chicken.”
She scoffed, “I’m not being chicken, I’m being sensible. If I crash that car, I don’t even think my parents will have enough money to fix it.”
“My parent’s will,” He grinned, cockily, “Get in,”
“No, I’m not driving that car.” She insisted.
Five minutes later, Y/N sat in the driver’s seat of Harry’s Audi with her fingers over her eyes as he instructed her on how to start. “Are you crazy?” She whimpers as he switches the engine on.
“Stop worrying, I’ve got my hand on the break.” She looks down to see his hand already wrapped around the hand break, “Just stay calm and do what I told you to do. Clutch down, first gear and then ease your foot gently off the clutch.”
“You’re supposed to be teaching me tennis, not driving laps around the school parking lot,” Y/N argued.
“Think of this as a team bonding exercise,” He shrugged, “Okay now foot down on the clutch,”
“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” She strangled out, placing her shaky hands on the wheel.
“Relax,” Harry chuckled, “You’re being dramatic.”
“It won’t be so dramatic when we end up in a tree,” Y/N retorted as she carefully felt the pedals and pressed down slowly on the clutch. Feeling the car rise, Y/N gasped and removed her foot.
“Calm down, it’s just because you put your foot on the clutch,” Harry was trying his best not to laugh at her, “Okay, now do it again.”
Y/N squeezed her hands on the wheel and repeated her actions, moving the gear stick “Okay, now carefully raise the clutch,” Harry instructed and as she did, he lowered the handbrake and the car slowly began to move forward.
“Holy shit,” Y/N wailed, “We’re moving,”
This time, Harry did laugh unable to stop himself after seeing her reaction, “Make sure you turn the wheel or we really will end up in a tree,”
Y/N did as she was told and turned the wheel slowly, “Okay, I’ll move into second,”
“Harry no!” She gasped but put the clutch down so he could move gears.
“Atta girl,” He beamed.
Y/N’s worried expression soon turned into shock and then excitement as she moved slowly around the car park, “I’m driving Harry!” Y/N grinned and Harry swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
“You are,” He praised, “There’s nothing you can’t do.”
After switching between first and second gear and Y/N complaining that her feet were aching from how tense she was using the pedals, Harry offered to swap places and show her what it was really like to go out on an evening drive.
“Harry!” Y/N choked on a laugh as he went all the way up to sixth gear down the empty streets in the middle of nowhere, “Slow down,” She squealed.
Harry glanced at her, grinning when he saw how wide the smile was on her face. He pressed his finger on the button to wind down all the windows, “Oh shit I love this song,” He turned the volume up on the stereo as Beyonce’s ‘Love on Top’ started playing, blaring loudly through the speakers of his car.
“Baby it’s you! You’re the one I love! You’re the one I need!” Harry screamed the lyrics of the song and Y/N’s laughter sounded through the entire car as her hair blew behind her. “Sing it, baby!” He cheered, neither of them realising what he had called her.
“I’m not gonna sing it,” She shook her head, her eyes squeezing shut as the engine revved.
“It’s the only way I’m gonna slow down,” He teased as the build-up to the chorus played.
Y/N giggled as Harry began to sing solo to the chorus again, giving her a look that had her rolling her eyes before she screamed out the lyrics alongside him, “When I need you, make everything stop! Finally, you put my love on top!”
Their laughter merged together as the song played out. Harry slowed down the closer they got back to town and cast a sideways glance at Y/N who was brushing her wind-swept hair with her fingers. “You okay?” He asked, seeing the glow on her face.
“Yeah,” She bit her lip, “I’m okay. I just don’t get to do stuff like this… ever really.”
He nodded in understanding. Harry had met Y/N’s parents a few times before. His parents were frequent visitors to their country club so he knew what they were like but he had no idea of the extent of the pressures they had put on Y/N to do well. It reminded him of his own parents and the last thing he wanted to do was allow someone to feel the same way he did whenever his parents were too hard on him.
“Wanna pull in somewhere to get something to eat?” Harry asked. It was getting late and they both had school tomorrow but he couldn’t seem to allow himself to let her go- not when she was having so much fun.
“Okay,” Y/N nodded.
He pulled into a dessert shop that was still open. Y/N followed him inside and to a booth in the corner. Harry ordered both of them bowls of soft-serve ice cream and Y/N even asked if she could have a strawberry milkshake to go with it. “I shouldn’t really be eating,” She told him.
“Hmm I heard drinking strawberry milkshakes improves your footwork. They served them all the time in Australia,” Y/N shot him a look that told him she knew he was bullshitting her but it made him smile.
“Are you nervous about the game coming up?” They’d been training non-stop every evening and Y/N was quickly improving everything she had already learnt on her own. After considering Harry’s words a few days ago, she knew Harry was right. He had been good for her technique and she felt even more sure of herself than she did at the beginning.
“No,” She said coolly, “I don’t have time to be nervous.”
Harry scoffed, “I don’t believe that for a second.”
The waitress came over and placed their desserts in front of them, along with a strawberry milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top. “Mitch says he’s going to throw a party at my place if you make it through to the semi-finals.”
“A party at your place?” Y/N quirked a brow.
Harry sighs, “He came up with the idea of throwing a party and then just kind of decided it would be at mine.” He explained.
Y/N nodded and took a sip of her milkshake. It had been so long since she had had something so sugary and sweet. She hummed before realizing she was being watched by the boy opposite her, “Just so you know, even though you bought these desserts and taught me how to drive, doesn’t mean I like you.”
Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling and dimples carving into his cheeks. Y/N’s heart stuttered but she pushed the feeling down, “Okay, tomorrow you can go back to hating me again and we’ll pretend today didn’t happen.”
“And you can do the same,” She says.
Harry gives her a look, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t put a label on, “I don’t hate you Y/N.”
She frowns, “You’ve always hated me,”
“No,” He shook his head, “Never.”
“But you’re always making fun of me,” And she always did the same.
“Because it’s the only way I get to speak to you.” He admits.
Y/N’s lips parted in surprise, unable to believe what she was hearing. She had always assumed Harry had hated her since their rivalry had gone on for so long. She didn’t know what to say, confused by the sudden revelation.
“Ew,” It came out before she even had time to think, “Don’t be nice to me, it’s making me uncomfortable.”
Harry seemed to deflate but quickly placed a smile on his face, “You make me uncomfortable and you’re singing, by the way, is awful.”
Y/N scoffed, "At least I don't sound like a dying goat." Despite the return of their familiar banter, her heart seemed to continue to flutter under Harry's earnest gaze, stirring a mix of emotions within her that she’d never felt before.
She didn’t know what was going on with her but the last thing she needed to think about was her emotions when her biggest goal to date was right before her.
. . .
Three weeks had gone by far too quickly for Y/N’s liking.
“Again,” Harry drawled.
Y/N gritted her teeth and repeated the backswing technique Harry had shown her but the angle was all wrong and the ball ended up going completely off court.
“Fuck,” Y/N spat, throwing her tennis racket on the floor and squatting, balling her hands into fists on her head.
Harry sighed, walking over. “You’re nervous about tomorrow,” He stated like he didn’t need her to confirm despite the fact she had constantly told everyone she wasn’t nervous about anything.
“I just need to win,” She mumbled.
“Get up,” Harry ordered.
Y/N did as she was told and stood up. He grabbed the racket from the floor that she’d thrown across the court like a toddler throwing their toys out a pushchair and flipped the racket between both of his hands. He handed it back to her and grabbed his own.
“I want you to mirror my actions,” He says and stands a few steps away from her.
He steps forward, tossing the tennis ball into the air before swinging his racket with both hands, expertly landing it in the left corner of the opposing court. Y/N tracks his every move, mimicking his actions as if she were his shadow.
Y/N’s ball lands slightly off target and Harry bites his lip to stop himself from smiling at the scowl on her face. He walks towards her and comes up behind her. Y/N’s breathing hitches when she feels his fingertips press gently on her arm.
“You need to straighten this arm more,” He advises, his fingertips sliding down her arm and leaving a trail of goosebumps as he straightens her arm out. “Calm down,” he murmurs, his mouth near her ear, “I can feel your heart beating.”
Y/N seems to lose every ounce of oxygen when he places his hand flat against her back where he can feel her heart beating, “Breathe,” He says, “You will win tomorrow, I will make sure of it.”
The warmth that flooded Y/N’s body quickly left as Harry took a step back, “Try it again,” He nodded towards her racket.
Y/N sighed, tensing her muscles again after Harry had practically managed to turn them into liquid. She tried to ignore the flutter in all of the pulse points in her body that were screaming to make contact with that new presence and swung her racket, landing the ball exactly where she wanted.
“There y’ go,” He murmurs, almost as if he was saying it to himself. “I think we should call that it for today,”
“What?” Y/N frowned, “The game is tomorrow, I need to practice.”
“Y/N, we’ve been practising for half the day already. You’re going to wear yourself out if you carry on,” Harry tells her.
“Fine,” She huffed but Harry gave her a knowing look.
“Come to my place,” He offers.
“Why would I do that?” She goes to grab her sweatshirt on the bench and pulls it over her head. It was getting colder now that the sun was going down.
“Because I know you’re just going to come back here once I leave and trust me, you don’t want to do that.” She opened her mouth to refuse but he continued, “We can watch Wimbledon on TV and order pizza.”
She wondered how he knew that Wimbledon was one of her favourite movies and pizza was her favourite food. “Is it the DVD exclusive?” Y/N asked.
Harry’s lips tilted upwards, “Of course,” Y/N nodded, following him to his car so he could drive them to his apartment.
Y/N remembered the last time she was in Harry's car three weeks ago. It was the first time Y/N truly enjoyed being in his company and the first time she had allowed herself to have fun and relax.
The day after, they resumed their usual arguing as if the previous night hadn't occurred. However, Y/N found herself overwhelmed by a surge of unfamiliar emotions swirling within her.
Despite the bickering, she kept noticing things about Harry—like the way he smiled and talked. It made her feel weird like there was something more between them that she hadn't noticed before.
The air was silent between them as the radio played lowly in the background. Harry turned into a block of apartments that looked far too expensive for a student to afford all by themself. “This is where you live?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening as he pulled into a spot.
“For now,” He says.
Y/N trailed behind Harry as they rode the elevator to the fifth floor and made their way to his apartment. When he swung open the door, flooding the space with light, Y/N couldn't help but notice the spaciousness of the apartment, as well as its emptiness.
“I haven’t had time to unpack,” Harry said, walking to the kitchen after kicking his shoes off, “Do you want anything to drink?”
“I’ll just take a glass of water,” Y/N’s eyes darted to all of the boxes that covered the floor.
She walked to the kitchen area and leaned against the counter, “Are those your trophies?” She asked, seeing the metal cups in an open box.
Harry smiled, “Yeah, I’ve kept all of mine even the ones that didn’t count.”
“They all count,” Y/N grins, walking over and pulling one out, “The battle of the sexes trophy.”
Harry smirked, walking round to stand beside her, “I still remember the look on your face when they handed me that trophy. If looks could kill, love, I don’t think I would be here.”
“It was a big deal to me okay?” Y/N replies, “I seemed to blame you for all my losses when I was a kid.”
Harry’s expression softens and his head turns to look at her, “Will you blame me if you don’t win tomorrow?”
Y/N’s smile falters, “No, I’d blame myself. I think if I lost this, I don’t know who I would be anymore. Tennis is my life.”
Harry’s eyes glint underneath the soft lighting of the kitchen, “God,” He whispers, “You drive me crazy y’ know that?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you think you could love anything more?” He asks, ignoring her question.
“I can’t think of anything, if I did I’d have to love it an awful lot.”
“Okay,” He nods like he’s accepting a challenge.
Y/N narrows her eyes, “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing,” He shrugs, “But I want you to know-”
Before Harry could finish his sentence, the door swings open and the shrill sound of his mother’s voice fills the air. Y/N stands straight and she notices Harry tense up, taking a step in front of her, he pushes her behind him.
“Harry,” His mother sighs, “How are you darling?”
“Mum,” He replies, curtly, “What are you doing here?”
“Your father’s running late home so I thought I would come by to see how you were,” She says and then looks behind him.
Y/N doesn’t need Harry to introduce her as she steps forward and holds out a hand, “Hi Mrs Styles, it’s nice to see you again.”
"Y/N?" Anne gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. "You've grown so much, you're beautiful." She reached out, taking both of Y/N's hands in hers and giving her an appraising look.
Y/N's cheeks flushed at the compliment. "Thank you, Mrs. Styles," she stammered, feeling a mixture of nerves and warmth.
Anne smiled warmly. "Oh, call me Anne," she insisted before turning her attention to Harry. "I didn't know you two were such good friends."
Y/N and Harry exchanged a quick glance, both unsure of how to respond.
"I'm her coach," they both blurted out simultaneously, the words tumbling out in a rush.
Anne's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?" she exclaimed, her gaze flitting between them. "You're coaching?"
Harry nodded, his expression serious. "Yes," he confirmed quietly.
"But Harry, your injury," Anne interjected, concern evident in her voice as she glanced down at his leg. "You're not meant to be—"
"I'm fine, Mum," Harry interrupted sharply, his tone making no room for argument.
"Harry, you know you can’t be playing-"
"I said I'm fine," Harry's voice rose, his frustration evident as he cut her off, causing Y/N to jump at the sudden outburst.
Anne's concern softened into a resigned sigh, her eyes reflecting a mixture of worry and understanding. "Alright, Harry," she relented, her tone gentler now. "Just promise me you're taking care of yourself."
Harry's features softened, a hint of remorse flickering in his eyes. "I promise, Mum," he said, his voice softer now, more subdued.
Anne nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Good. That's all I ask."
As the atmosphere relaxed, Anne turned her attention back to Y/N, her smile warm and welcoming. "Well, it's lovely to see you again, Y/N," she said kindly. “Tell your parents we’ll be stopping by in the spring.”
Y/N returned the smile, her earlier nervousness dissipating in the warmth of Anne's acceptance. "It was nice to see you too, " she replied sincerely.
Harry glanced at Y/N, a softness in his gaze that made her heart skip a beat. After seeing his mother out following her very brief visit, Y/N finally mustered the courage to ask, "What was she talking about?"
Harry's expression turned grave, his features shadowed by a sense of burden. "It was nothing," he replied.
"Why can't you play?" Y/N pushed, her concern evident in her voice.
"Y/N, I'm telling you to leave it alone," Harry warned, his tone firm.
But Y/N couldn't let it go. "If it's nothing, then why can't you tell me?" she insisted, her frustration bubbling to the surface.
"Because it's none of your business, that's why," Harry snapped, his words cutting like a knife.
"Nothing I do or say has anything to do with you, so go back to hating me because it's a hell of a lot easier than what I have to deal with."
Y/N's heart sank at his harsh words. With a deep breath, she crossed her arms, her resolve hardening. "You know, now I remember why we never got along in the first place," she retorted, her voice laced with bitterness. With a sharp turn on her heel, she made her way to the front door. "You're such an asshole, Harry."
"Y/N," Harry called out, his voice tinged with regret as she stormed out of his apartment towards the elevator. "Y/N, come on, don't be like that."
"Go suck a dick," she shot back, stepping into the elevator before Harry could stop her.
As the doors closed, Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Let me drive you back, at least," he pleaded, his voice barely audible over the sound of the closing doors.
"Fine," Y/N huffed, her tone clipped with annoyance.
The car ride back to her dorm was tense and silent. When Harry pulled into the front of her dormitory, Y/N moved to open the door finding the silence far too uncomfortable. Then, out of nowhere, Harry's voice broke the silence. "I can't play tennis anymore," he confessed, his words heavy.
Y/N's heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat. "What do you mean you can't play anymore? That's ridiculous," she exclaimed, her disbelief evident in her voice.
Harry's hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I mean I can't ever play tennis again," he admitted, his voice cracking with emotion.
"Are you serious?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling with shock.
"I tore my ACL during practice for the French Open. I—" Harry's voice trailed off, unable to continue, “It was so bad Y/N and I was in so much fucking pain and no one would listen to me. I went through multiple surgeries and rehab but the doctors sat me down and said I couldn’t play unless I wanted to fuck up my leg for the rest of my life.”
“Harry…” Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears.
Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of Harry's words sank in. She glanced over at him, seeing the pain etched in his features, and felt a surge of empathy wash over her. It was a devastating blow for someone who had dedicated their life to the sport they loved.
"I'm so sorry, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with genuine sadness for the boy beside her.
Harry managed a small nod, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, “That’s why I had to come back here. My father can barely look at me and my mother won’t leave me alone. At least here I can be around people my own age but when I’m at home, it’s fucking suffocating Y/N.”
Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t imagine losing the one thing she loved above anything else in the world and have to re-construct everything she had ever known to find something else to love just as much.
“I don’t expect you to say anything but I’d appreciate it if you showed me a little mercy,” He spoke.
“Why would you offer to coach me then? Would that not make things worse?” She asked.
He looks at her, really looks at her, like there was something on the tip of his tongue he wanted to say but couldn’t, “I figured it would alleviate the pain.”
“But I saw you play, I watched you and you beat me,” She exclaimed.
“Yeah and it hurt like a bitch afterwards,” He shook his head.
Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wondered why Harry had been unwilling to play against her during the training sessions and now she knew why. She felt awful, her heart was hurting for him.
“I don’t want you to feel pity for me and I don’t want this to change anything between us. I’m tired of being treated like a broken toy and I think it would kill me inside if you looked at me differently.”
Y/N stayed quiet, facing forward and collecting her thoughts before saying, “Thank you for telling me,” She murmured, “And it doesn’t change anything. You’re still an asshole,”
Harry laughed and then his pinky brushed the side of her hand, “You will be everything tomorrow.” He whispered.
Y/N’s heart fluttered at the soft edge of his words, “You think so?”
His eyes softened, “I believe in you, more than anyone in the entire world.”
She nodded, taking a deep breath and looking out the window. The tension had settled and now a newfound respect lingered between them.
She would win tomorrow, for herself and for him.
. . .
It had been a while since Harry had been to a tennis tournament. The last time he was on a court for an official match was well over six months ago, it was a challenger match he participated in during his training for the French Open before his life took a vast turn.
He sat in the stands with everyone else from Crestwood who had come to watch the first game. Although Crestwood Academy invested more in the football team than any other sport, the turnout had been pretty good and nearly every seat was occupied by a student or teacher.
On the opposite side was Eaststone Academy who seemed to have invested heavily in their merchandise for Y/N’s opponent. Everyone was either wearing a t-shirt with Vanya’s name on it or carrying a sign with supportive catchphrases written in bold marker.
Harry craned his neck in hopes of seeing Y/N preparing herself somewhere outside of the court but couldn’t find her anywhere. He’d sent her a quick message this morning and asked her if she needed anything but she insisted she wanted to be alone.
“Fuck, it’s good we got in the queue early,” Mitch came by with an anxious Sarah, holding two cokes in his hand. They were both wearing navy shirts and sweatbands around their heads, Sarah was holding a sign that had Y/N’s name on it.
“She’s gonna hate you for that,” Harry tried not to smile.
“Oh I already know,” Sarah said, “She watched me make it last night and then almost ripped in half when I asked her if I should bedazzle it.”
Harry’s expression changed into one of concern, “How was she?”
“She’s nervous but she insisted she was okay,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “You know how she is.”
He did, which was why he was willing to accept the fact she wanted to be by herself even though he was desperate to drive over there with strawberry milkshakes just so he could see that smile he had been dreaming about for the past three weeks.
Suddenly, Eaststone Academy stood from their seats and cheered as Vanya Maddison came onto the court. “I’ve never seen such long legs,” Sarah gasped, saying what both Harry and Mitch were thinking.
Harry’s heart pounded in his chest as the people around him stood on their feet. He glanced down to the court and his eyes fell on Y/N as she walked onto the court with a dip between her brows and her tennis bag over her shoulder.
She was wearing a white, pleated skort and a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. Her hair was slicked back as tightly as possible into a braid and her white runners were tied up on her feet. He noticed she was wearing earbuds in her ears and then found the walkman he had given her clipped to her skort. He smiled at that, wondering which of the many songs he had put together she was listening to.
“There she is,” Sarah pointed and then waved to get her attention.
Y/N held a hand over her face to block the sun and looked up at the crowd. When she caught sight of Sarah, she offered a friendly wave before her eyes landed on Harry. She gave him a nod of acknowledgement and then walked to her seat on the other side of the umpire.
“C’mon,” Harry murmured, feeling his palms sweating at the sight of her.
“She’s got this in the bag, H.” Mitch puts a hand on his shoulder.
Through the speakers, the umpire calls out the start of the match and everyone falls silent as both players walk to opposing sides of the court. Y/N bounces on her feet and swings her racket backwards and forwards as though warming herself up before the match starts.
When the first serve came, Y/N's reflexes kicked in. She returned the ball swiftly, keeping the rally going with her quick movements, remembering what Harry had taught her. Each exchange became more intense, but Y/N stayed determined, chasing down every ball.
When Vanya hit the ball for the other corner, Y/N ran towards it and returned the ball swiftly, earning the first point with a well-placed shot. The crowd erupted into cheers as Y/N gained an early lead.
“That’s my girl!” Harry clapped his heart in his throat.
But Vanya wasn't about to let up. With determination in her eyes, she fought back, winning the next two points with powerful serves and precise shots. The score was now in Vanya's favor, and the pressure was on for Y/N.
“Fuck!” Y/N released a growl and hit her racket against the floor before storming off to her seat. Harry was tempted to walk down and help her but he needed to let her see what she was capable of on her own.
Her anger was radiating from her, “I’d hate to get on her bad side,” Mitch said.
Harry couldn’t seem to reply as he leant forward with both his elbows on his knees. “C’mon, c’mon, you can do it.” He mutters, thinking of the first bit of advice he had given her.
“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.
“My speed?” Y/N frowned.
“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.”
Y/N rolled her shoulders back and stood on her feet. She walked back to her line on the court and bounced the ball up and down on the ground before throwing it up in the air and hitting it with a flat serve, exactly the way Harry had taught her. Her anger radiated from her as she slammed the ball with her racket and hit it with such force it went flying to the other end of the court but not before bouncing inside the square right by Vanya’s foot.
Harry stood to his feet and pumped his fist into the air, “Holy shit!” Mitch exclaimed as Sarah cheered beside him.
They were now at match point and Y/N had to win this next round if she wanted to win the entire game.
The tension thickened in the air as people sat on the edge of their seats to see who would come out on top. This time, it was Vanya’s turn to serve as she launched the ball into the air and hit it with her racket to Y/N’s side of the court.
As Y/N unleashed powerful serves and precise shots, Harry found himself captivated by her every move. With each grunt of exertion, each flex of her muscles, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Despite the shifting heads of the spectators around him as they followed the ball back and forth, his gaze remained fixed solely on her.
Every aspect of Y/N's play had him in a trance—the way her muscles rippled as she sprinted across the court, the intensity in her expression as she anticipated Vanya’s next move, the graceful sway of her hair with each swing of her racket.
But as Harry watched, something stirred within him. A warmth spread through his veins, igniting a fire deep within him. Suddenly, he felt a tightness in his shorts, a physical reaction to the raw power and determination radiating from Y/N on the court.
"Oh, fuck," Harry muttered under his breath, his heart racing as he glanced down and saw the undeniable bulge in his shorts. Panic surged through him, his mind reeling with embarrassment.
"What's wrong?" Mitch's voice cut through his thoughts, and Harry quickly lowered his drink to conceal his arousal.
“N-Nothing,” Harry forces a smile, “I need to use the bathroom.” He doesn’t wait for Mitch to respond as she pushes past everyone to get away from the crowd.
He walks quickly over to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He didn’t know what to do. He felt like he was thirteen years old after experiencing girls for the first time again. Was it wrong to rub himself off in the middle of a tennis match when all he was looking at was the girl who played his favourite sport better than anyone he had ever seen, dominating the game with her anger and intensity like she was a complete animal?
He couldn’t shake the image of her from his mind and his cock seemed to ache the more he thought about how beautiful she was on the court, completely in her element, anger and passion emitting from her. Every grunt and groan she made as she hit the ball with so much fervor had his head spiralling.
He looked down and tried to will it away, he needed to get back out there to see her win the game. He thought of every disturbing thing he could possibly think of and even took out his phone to google the quickest way to get rid of an erection.
The excited yells of the crowd told him someone had won and he prayed he would return and see Y/N with the medal around her neck.
After about ten minutes of taking deep breaths, he finally felt composed enough to leave his car. With a flustered face, he made his way back toward the court, silently praying for some kind of cosmic intervention to erase the embarrassing moment from his memory.
As he turned the corner, he spotted Mitch and Sarah engaged in conversation with Y/N, who was proudly wearing the gold medal around her neck. She had won - he knew she would.
Y/N's eyes lit up as she noticed him, a wide smile spreading across her face as she proudly displayed her medal. Unable to resist, he grinned back in response.
Sweat glistened on her skin, her cheeks flushed with exertion, and delicate strands of hair framed her face. At that moment, she radiated beauty, and he couldn't deny the sudden surge of emotions that had slowly been weaving themselves into the fabric of his feelings ever since he had returned to Crestwood.
If the past fifteen minutes were anything to go by, Harry knew this was more than just a game of tennis.
He was in trouble.
. . .
People cheered as Y/N entered Harry’s apartment with Sarah at her side, holding beer cans in the air and patting her on the shoulder as she sifted through the crowds of people. S&M by Rhianna played over the speakers as the apartment that was previously empty was now filled up with student’s from Crestwood.
“There she is,” Mitch’s voice yelled over the music, “Crestwood’s very own Serena Williams,”
“I wouldn’t go that far Mitch,” She chuckled, unable to stop herself from smiling so hard after the excitement of her first win.
Y/N’s eyes scanned the room as she went in search of the one person she wanted to see whilst everyone fell into conversation around her.
That’s when she saw him, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup in his hand. His hair was a tangled mess, and his body was adorned in a loose, white shirt, its u-neck revealing the inked pair of swallows beneath his collarbones and gold chain around his neck. On his legs, he wore a loose pair of black trousers.
Y/N held back a smile as she made her way over to him until she realised who he was talking to.
Her face fell as she saw the angelic blonde, tanned and glowing like she’d just come back from a holiday somewhere south of the equator.
Harry’s face lit up as Y/N approached until he realised what was going on.
“Hey,” He smiled, trying to distract her.
“Where were you?” Y/N snapped her gaze towards him.
“What do y’ mean? M right here,” He spoke, “You were incredible out there.”
“Who’s this?” Y/N ignored him, folding her arms and looking at the girl he was speaking to. Y/N knew exactly who she was but felt the need to act as though she had never seen her before.
Harry hesitated for a moment before introducing her. “Y/N, this is Astrid.”
Astrid flashed a dazzling smile at Y/N, her demeanour friendly yet confident. “Congratulations on the win today, Y/N. I’m looking forward to our match in the semifinals.”
Harry's reaction was immediate. “What?” he stammered, clearly taken aback.
“You didn’t know?” Astrid asked, surprised. “Y/N and I will be facing off in the semifinals.”
Y/N grit her teeth and forced a smile, the two girls eyeing each other up and down as Harry’s eyes darted anxiously between them.
Now that Y/N was into the semi-finals her next opponent was Astrid Anderson, one of the best junior, female tennis players in the county.
Who just so happened to be Harry’s ex-girlfriend.
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With all the strength they had left, the hero crawled into the villain’s apartment through the window. After surviving the superhero, this should have been easy but it turned out to be exhausting.
The hero had landed in the bathroom and without wasting another second, they pulled themselves up and searched through the cabinets. Unfortunately, their bloody hands left enough evidence of them breaking in already. They supposed they’d have to face the villain sooner or later, even if that meant the villain was going to throw them out again.
For now, they found something close enough to practical — a razor — and opened the first aid kit the villain usually stored under the cabinet. Before they could take out the blades, the villain opened the door.
“You’re not as quiet as you think.” The hero looked at them and smiled softly. Teeth stained with blood, heavy limbs.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” they said. With no hesitation, the villain helped them up and took the razorblades out of their hands.
“What happened to that pretty face?” they asked. With one hand on the hero’s hip, they reached for a clean towel and turned on the sink. They let the soft fabric drench in warm water and gently cleaned up the hero’s face.
It all happened so fast. The villain didn’t seem to mind that the hero was here in the middle of the night.
And they were close. So close.
Whereas the villain was focused on the hero’s face and getting rid of all that blood, the hero stared into their eyes. Maybe it was this cruel change: brutal violence coming from someone they had adored to gentle tenderness from someone they had loathed.
The villain looked down at them. Their thumb traced the hero’s jawline and the hero looked away, almost ashamed.
“You look like shit,” the villain whispered. “And you woke me up.”
“I’m sorry,” the hero said. They looked at the villain’s clothes — their underwear and a shirt. The hero blushed a little. They took the villain’s hand and reached for the razorblades. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
The hero let go of them with a gaze that lingered a little too long.
“They chipped me,” the hero explained. They cleaned the blade with some rubbing alcohol and took in a deep breath. “Chipped me like a fucking dog.”
They cut into their own forearm, watching as the blood ran down their skin. It burnt even more than the open wounds on the hero’s back. They supposed they just had gotten used to that sort of pain, even if that was impossible.
With the blade, they dug through skin and muscle, clenching their teeth until they found the little tracker. They cursed when they pushed their fingers into the wound to fish it out.
Once they had the bloody device in their hand, they let it fall to the ground and crushed it under their boot.
“I knew trackers are useless at your place. You’ve slipped through my fingers quite a few times that way.”
The villain didn’t say anything. They just stared at the hero who cleaned their arm.
It wasn’t exactly easy to crawl to their nemesis and beg for shelter. The hero was too proud to do that anyway and they had planned to leave after cutting out the microchip.
“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” the hero said.
“You didn’t bother me.” The villain took a step forward and took the hero’s hands. “Are you alright?”
The hero frowned.
“Of course I am. I’m fine. I’m doing great.”
“You’re sure about that?” The villain let their fingers intertwine and suddenly, the hero felt very tired very quickly. “You’ve been so busy these last few days. I barely got to see you. They sent over some other lame heroes.”
The hero chuckled tiredly.
“I mean, why would they think I am satisfied with all the other rabble?” One of their hands glided down the hero’s forearm where they put pressure on the wound. “You always wanted to be a hero. When did that change?”
“I don’t know,” the hero said but the desperation and the hopelessness were already settling in. It didn’t even buy them time to lie to the villain. One way or another they found out anyway and most of the time, they asked the hero questions they already had the answers to.
The hero couldn’t really take it anymore. The pain was too much, their mind was breaking more and more.
“Oh, so many tears on such a pretty face,” the villain said. They pulled the hero closer and wiped their tears away with the back of their hand. “Don’t you know it’s not your fault?”
“They turned against me,” the hero said. Their voice trembled. “All of them. They chipped me, they put a bounty on my head. They’re trying to kill me because I don’t agree with…with all this shit.”
The villain cupped their face. “With what?”
“With all this stupid collateral damage and these dumb advertisements. Most of the time I feel like a mascot, I’m barely saving any people.”
“Oh, darling.” The villain tilted their head. Their presence was comforting in a way the hero hadn’t had experienced before. Whatever they’d done to each other in the past, the hero didn’t care. They were familiar, they were warm. The hero wasn’t going to let anyone take this moment away from them. “And who exactly beat you up like this? Your boss, I assume?”
“…yeah.” They could play pretend. They could pretend the villain was closer, that they were more than acquaintances. Even if it wasn’t real, even if the villain was using them, the hero needed some affection right now. They’d gladly give the heartbreak to their future self.
“My poor hero,” the villain said softly. “Would you let me stitch you up?”
The hero nodded.
“I’ll protect you,” the villain promised. They pulled them close to hug the hero. The hero didn’t understand why they were so gentle, so kind. Most of the time, they insulted each other like children. But the hero needed this. They really did. “They will pay for this.”
#shake baby baby shake bis uns der Himmel auf den Kopf fällt#writing snippet#heroxvillain prompt#heroxvillain snippet#heroes and villains#hero#villain#hero x villain#heroxvillain#h/c
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ok i don’t know if it’s just me who gets really giggly when it’s late at night but imagine laying in bed with lando and you’re just rambling about smth so stupid that it ends with you two just giggling at nothing. like getting full on stomach cramps from laughing but there wasn’t even anything funny to begin with
anon u and i are the SAME! once its past midnight i always end up becoming a victim of the late night sillies 💔
1:30 am | ln4
you knew you were up too late when you nearly tripped over the loose edge of the blanket you and lando had been sharing on your way back to the couch, and when he had caught you before you could hit your head or anything, you started laughing.
“oh, no,” he’d groaned dramatically. “got the late night giggles already, huh?”
“uh-uh,” you shook your head, even though him saying the words “late night giggles” was enough to make laughter start bubbling up in your throat again.
something always shifted in you when the clock struck a certain hour at night, and lando had only been witness to it a handful of times before you moved in together.
now, you’d managed to get through the rest of the movie the two of you were watching without laughing, even if it meant biting your lip hard and refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend. it was bad enough feeling his eyes on you every time he wanted to see your reaction to something that happened on the tv. making eye contact would just take you out entirely for no reason whatsoever.
which is why you think you’ve successfully avoided making a fool of yourself when you’re both finally laying in bed with the lights out at the fine hour of 1:30 in the morning.
“you’re so far away,” lando grumbles, dragging your body into his so his one arm is around your shoulders and your face is nestled in his neck.
“better?” you ask, smiling when he shivers as your lips brush his skin.
“mhmm.” he’s quiet for a moment, running his fingers up and down your arm. “you’re gonna come to miami, right?”
“yeah, if you want me to.”
“what kind of question is that, babe?” he cranes his neck in a way that tells you he’s fixing you with a judgy look even though you can’t see each other.
you shrug, feeling the giggles building up again for no reason whatsoever. “i dunno.”
“obviously i want you there, why wouldn’t i?”
“i dunno,” you repeat. “it’s miami. maybe you just wanna party with all your homies.” and just like that, you’re laughing again.
“oh dear god, here we go,” he sighs, pressing his lips together to repress his own laughter as your body shakes against his. “my homies? when have i ever referred to any of my mates as my ‘homie’?”
he sounds so incredulous that you laugh even harder. “oh, you’re so british! i can’t call them your mates, lan. it sounds too weird.”
“so homies is the word you went with? why can’t you be normal and just say my friends?”
“why can’t you be normal and say your friends?” you shoot back, and that does lando in.
“it’s not funny,” he tries to admonish, and it’s entirely true, but it’s a moot point when you can barely understand him through his laughter.
“stop laughing then!”
“you stop!”
naturally, that makes you both laugh harder still, to the point where you have to roll away from him, clutching your stomach from how badly all the laughing is making it hurt.
“i can’t breathe,” lando gasps from behind you.
“stop laughing,” you repeat. “you’re killing me.”
“i think i’m dying,” he continues like he didn’t hear you, and he honestly might not have because your face is half shoved into your pillow in your attempts to stifle yourself.
a few more minutes go by of the two of you absolutely losing your minds before you’re finally able to catch your breath.
“ow,” you whine, holding your stomach. “i think i just grew a six pack.”
“i think mine just became ten times more defined,” lando says, voice raspy from all the exertion on his vocal chords.
“ooh, lemme feel.”
“absolutely not, because you’re going to tickle me,” he grabs your wrist out of thin air. “i know your tricks, baby. i’ve laughed more than enough tonight thanks to you.”
“not my fault you’re weird and british.”
“i love you,” he says sweetly, pulling you back towards him and kissing your forehead. “now’s where you say, ‘i love you too.’”
“i love you too,” you reply dutifully, blindly reaching for his face so you can kiss him properly. “even though you’re weird and british.”
he kisses you again. “i thought it was especially because i’m weird and british.”
you snuggle into his side, now thoroughly exhausted. “please don’t make me laugh more, lan.”
you both know he’s right, of course, but you usually need to have the last word, so he lets you get away with it. he does love you, after all, even though you had him in stitches over nothing at 1:30 in the morning.
word count: 790
masterlist — join my tag list here!
note: this was sooo self indulgent, like i was laughing as i wrote this because the term “homies” is so silly to me for some reason. also helped me test my dialogue skills!! n e wayz…
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
dividers by @/saradika
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#aries answers#anon <3#request#blurb#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 x you#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula one fluff#formula one imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fluff#formula one fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 x you
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Fake It Till You Make It
Chapter Six - Where Is The Party Princess?
The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?
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a/n: thank you so much to @nirrahbrii for help with some translations! i don't think this chapter would have been the same without that little world lol
Where Is The Party Princess?
The Monaco Post prides themselves on their ability to keep the public updated on the whereabouts of our favourite royal. We've documented every one of her scandals, from the time where she was fifteen years old and found herself detained by the police, to last year, when she was caught in bed with American actor, Glen Powell.
For the past few years, we have thanked the Princess of Monaco for providing us with such stories. She was a royal like no other, one we found our readers could relate to.
So, that leaves us to wonder, where is the party princess now? It has been a week since we've last seen Princess Y/N. Our sources have reached out to members of the royal family and staff for comment, but only managed to get one reply.
It seems, dear readers, that our beloved party Princess has run away.
"Are you sure you want the party princess to drag you down to her level? Because that's what's going to happen next time we're pictured together."
Charles turned his full body towards her. "What're you saying?" He wore a frown on his face, one that didn't suit him. She realised it immediately. He looked so downtrodden when he frowned. "Do you want to break this arrangement off?"
Once again she shrugged. "Just giving you the option to get out before you end up like Frédéric Archambeau," she said.
"Who is Frédéric Archambeau?"
"Exactly."
Charles sucked in a breath. He drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair and stood up. "That's it," he said, striding towards her. "We can break off this arrangement, if you want, but I'm not going to leave you to here to rot."
She scoffed. "Stop pretending to care."
Immediately, Charles took a hold of her mug and placed it down onto the coffee table. "Come on," he said, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. "We're going away."
She couldn't stop the laugh that was pulled from her lips. "Fuck off, Charles," she said and pulled her hand out of his.
But Charles grabbed her again. He pulled her towards her bedroom. "Pack a bag, we're going somewhere warm," he said and pulled open her wardrobe.
"Where?" It wasn't a genuine question, more of a challenge. She sat on the bed and folded her legs under her body, watching him. "Where the fuck are you taking me?" Her voice was bitter, filled with venom as she watched Charles.
He found a suitcase under her bed and began throwing clothes in. It was impossible to sort out what was clean and what wasn't, so Charles just threw it all in. "Australia," he said. "Or Spain. We can go wherever."
"I don't want to go with you," she said immediately.
Charles released an exasperated sigh. "I am begging you to go along with this," he said as he crouched in front of her. "Don't even do this for me. Do it for yourself!"
"Why?" She cried. "Why the fuck do you care about me?!"
Charles dropped his head into his hands. "Please," he said quietly. "Just, let me help you."
It wasn't for her, she realised quickly. For some reason, Charles needed this. He needed this trip, she just didn't know why he needed her. "Fine," she said and began filling her suitcase with everything she'd need for a trip away.
A relieved breath left his lips. "Thank you," he whispered.
That was how she found herself in Greece with Charles Leclerc. For the first few days, the tabloids had left them alone. The Monaco press wasn't around to write new crap about her (so they'd been recycling the same old crap).
It took a few days for her to really warm up to him. She knew Charles, sure, but she knew the Charles the world saw. She knew the rich kid from Monaco, the one that the tabloids wrote about, the one that had the tiktok edits made about him.
She didn't know the real Charles. The Charles that loved his friends. The Charles that had so much he wanted to do with his life. The Charles that was genuinely so funny. She knew the F1 driver that doubled as a super model, she knew CL16, not Cha.
Cha. When had she taken to calling him that? It had happened all at once, but she hadn't stopped. It was maybe their second day in Greece, their second day of peace, their second day of getting away from it all.
Every call she'd gotten from Henri, she'd ignored. She didn't need her brother's constant scrutiny. He didn't approve of the trip, that much was clear, but she didn't care. Henri had tried calling Charles, but, at her request, he didn't pick up the phone.
Both the Princess and Charles were used to being waited on through their vacations. They were rich enough that it had become expected. But, for this vacation, Charles wanted it to just be the two of them. No interruptions, nobody to report back to the press.
Just the both of them making the most of it.
She stepped out of her bedroom in the villa and yawned. Her body was adorned in nothing but shorts and a vest top as she walked across the cold stone flooring, heading towards the kitchen.
Charles was already sitting there. He sat in just his swimming trunks, a coffee in front of him as he went through his emails. (As embarrassing as it was to admit, it had taken the two of them two days to work out how to use the coffee machine. She and Charles each had a coffee machine, but this one was different, not as simple as having a 'go' button.)
"Wanna go out for drinks tonight?" She asked as she sat opposite him. Her body was turned towards the kitchen doors, looking towards the pool.
She hadn't had a drink since they'd gotten to Greece. Charles was incredibly proud of her, although he hadn't said anything. "We can go for a few," he answered. Nothing too crazy, Charles wasn't sure what to do with her if she got too crazy.
He was barely able to take care of her after they'd gone to The Hole In The Wall.
Maybe that was what led Charles to suggest something else. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't in good conscience take her out for a night on the town. They'd managed to stay out of the spotlight for this long, and Charles could see how much good it was doing her. Doing both of them.
He wasn't ready to drag her back into it.
"What if we stay here?" He asked, standing up and walking towards the glass doors. He carried his coffee mug with him as he looked at the pool sparkling in the morning sun. "We could have drinks around the pool."
She let out a snort, one she assumed he would have found unattractive. "You still that embarrassed to be seen with me?" She asked through her snort. But then she saw the way his face fell. "I'm joking, Cha. Yes, I'd love to have drinks with you around the pool."
They went about their day, swimming in the pool, lounging in the sun, going out for lunch together (always in big hats and sunglasses. It wasn't the most covert operation, but it was working).
In the evening, Charles attempted to make dinner. He wasn't the best cook out there, but it was something he enjoyed. They'd gotten drinks on their way back from lunch, shopping in the little supermarket on their way back to the villa.
It wasn't supposed to be anything fancy, but she still dressed up. Charles had the nicest shirt and shorts combo that he'd brought with him and she wore a pretty little dress.
He wasn't going to admit that the sight of her walking down the stairs, sitting in the little out by the pool in that pretty little dress, it would have had a weaker man on his knees. Charles didn't know how he was still standing. Maybe because he wanted to help her, maybe because he respected her brother too much to try anything on.
She sang his praises while she ate, a far cry from the girl he'd practically forced to pack a bag just a few days ago. This was a side of her that the world had forced to hide away. This was the side of her he wanted to see, the real her that he wanted the world to fall in love with. Not the her that the world had decided to hate.
When they finished eating, they just sat there, drinking and talking as they looked at the pool. "So, are you actually friends with my brother, or is it just because he's the princess?" She asked as she drank from her wine glass.
Charles let out a laugh. That was exactly the kind of question he'd expected from her. "Henri and I are actually friends," he answered, not paying attention to the way her toe hit his knee (he didn't mind it, not one bit). "I'll admit, I felt bad when people called me the Prince of Monaco, and that may have contributed to me wanting to be friends with him. But our friendship is real."
She nodded as she sipped. "Must be nice having the Prince of Monaco at your every beck and call," she mumbled.
"You're saying that like you don't."
That dry laugh he'd heard so many times before, that dry laugh that Charles hated to hear, left her lips. "Trust me, Cha, I don't." She finished her drink and stood up. "At least, not the real Prince of Monaco."
He couldn't tell whether it was the alcohol that controlled her. But she hiked up her skirt and sat himself in her lap. It was so sudden, so unexpected, he had no idea what to do. Her hands were around his neck. "I'd rather have the unofficial Prince of Monaco at my beck and call. What do you think of that?"
Charles couldn't react. He didn't get a chance to, not when she pressed her lips to his own.
It wasn't slow, it wasn't full of passion. No, it was quick and clumsy. One taste of her lips against his own. And, when she pulled away, she laid her head against his shoulder. "I shouldn't have done that," she whispered as she played with his hair. "Oh, crotte."
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#f1#formula one#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc x reader smut#cl16#cl16 imagine#cl16 x reader
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Not Like The Movies
Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader
Fandom: Fallout
Request: Yes by Anon
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Violence
Word Count: 1,688
Main Masterlist: Here
Fallout Masterlist: Here
Summary: How Cooper got landed with someone of her sunny disposition, he will never now. And it does not help that she knows his films.
“Good morning, you cutie. Oh who’s the best little girl ever?” A feminine voice brought Cooper out of his deep slumber. His eyes had to adjust to the bright light outside that flooded the building they had stayed the night in. He looked around for the source of the noise and was relieved to see it was just his partner playing with DogMeat. The man sat up from the bed that was miraculously in the building that probably used to be someone’s house and began to roll the sleep from his muscles and bones.
“Well, good morning to you, cowpoke.” She greeted, allowing the dog to roam around wherever she pleased.
“Mornin’ sweetheart. Whatcha doin’ up this early?” He asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His boots hit the floor right next to where his partner was, as she sat up on her knees to pull him in close. Physical affection was something Cooper was still not used to after all this time, but he was slowly coming around to it. All of the affection happened behind closed doors, or in this case, a closed house. He still had an image to maintain after all.
“Couldn’t sleep, so I spent some time with Bella.” She said cheerfully into his chest. Cooper just sighed and rubbed his eyes.
“Don’t go naming the thing. Then you’ll get too attached and then you’ll be depressed when it dies.” He groaned out, shifting their bodies so their eyes met.
“But she can’t be named ‘DogMeat’. That’s not a proper name,” came her cry. She laid on the puppy eyes really thick.
“DogMeat is a proper name because that’s what it is.” He argued back, tilting her head up by her chin.
“Fine,” she relented, and smushed her face back into his chest. “What’s on the agenda for today?”
“Well, gotta head into town now. Stock up on some supplies, gather a new bounty hopefully.” Cooper pressed a kiss to her hair, and shuffled so that he could pull both of them up to stand.
“You gonna behave when we get into town?” He drawled, voice leaning into dangerous territory. His partner giggled and nodded her head.
“Of course, Coop. When am I not?” She inquired, biting her lower lip. That woman knew the easiest way to get Cooper riled up was to do just that motion right there. Because, in an instant, his eyes were locked on to her lips.
“What about back in Filly where you kept smilin’ at folks, leaving me to save you from someone’s fist in your face? Huh?” Howard recalled, watching her shift in his arms as she, too, recounted their last adventure into town.
“How was I supposed to know?” Her whimper made Cooper weak, but he had a job to do today.
“Just tone down the sun a little bit, alright? Maybe a nice cloudy day instead of bright ass sunshine.” He offered, bringing her face back up to his. She nodded and stood on her toes to reach his face. Cooperate, ever the gentleman, met her halfway and locked their lips together. They moved as one, letting their lips slide across the other’s. Hands roamed freely, and it was starting to look like they were not going to be making it to town soon. That is, of course, until DogMeat came back in the room with a dead iguana in her mouth. She dropped it on the floor, and pawed at the man and woman who were locked in their embrace. The Ghoul groaned as his partner detached them in favor of tending to the dog he claimed he did not want.
“Good girl. Such a good hunter.” The baby voice was back. Seeing that the dog was getting the attention now, Cooper moved to grab all of his effects from where they were strewn about the room. His duster sat upon his shoulders, while his hat found its spot on his scarred head.
“Come on. Let’s get goin’.” He stated definitely. His saddle bag was slung across his shoulder, and his hand helped navigate his partner through the abandoned house.
They began their trek into town, which thankfully was not too long of a walk. DogMeat followed on the other side of Cooper, hot on his heels. He kept his eyes peeled as they drew further and further into the town. There was a pharmacy, a trader’s hut, several food stalls, and even a mechanics repair shop. Plenty for the two of them. Turning to his partner, he passed her some caps and pointed towards a couple stalls.
“Go get you some dried meat, and get a box of ammunition. Don’t smile so much, alright?” Cooper stressed. She nodded in return and patted his arm as she left with DogMeat.
The Ghoul made his way into the trader’s hut first to find a new bounty that was around. Thankfully, the woman behind the counter had one, and it was simple enough. Someone had not paid her what she was owed, and now she had a hat out on the man. He accepted half of the caps upfront, before moving on to the pharmacy next door. Cooper’s eyes caught his partner and DogMeat traversing the stalls, already having several pouches of meat in her bag.
Which is why he was not afraid to leave her alone while he took his time getting his chems from the pharmacy. Being a ghoul certainly had its drawbacks; the stares, reputation, and fear. But it also held some positives; the stares, reputation, and fear. It certainly helped when acquiring what he needed for a reasonable price. A commotion caught his ears from outside, but he was not afraid that it was his partner.
Until he stepped outside. Cooper saw his partner being crowded against a pile of sheet metal while DogMeat kept barking up a fuss. The dog ran over immediately to the man and began to drag him by his duster over to the woman.
“Come on, sweetheart. Don’t play hard to get.” Some man crept into her space, making her cower down even further. Based on what he could see, and the description the trader gave, this must have been the bounty. She did mention that he tended to go where he pleased like he owned it all.
“Please. Let me go.” She whimpered. Her voice was full of fear and worry, and Cooper was not about to let that stand.
“Everyone’s got a price. I can pay whatever your price is.” He continued, placing his hand on the woman’s waist.
“I do believe the lady asked you to let her go.” Cooper finally made his way over. The man turned around, and smiled with blackened teeth.
“Don’t worry, Ghoul. Once I’m done with her, I’m sure you can have a turn. Certainly don’t wanna do it the other way around.” He laughed, as if what he said was the funniest thing in the world. Cooper began to chuckle lowly as he peeked his eyes out from the lip of his hat. Catching his partner’s eyes, she felt relief as she saw her savior in western gear.
“See, she might be bein’ nice and askin’ you to let her go. But I ain’t that nice. So now I’m tellin’ you to let her go. Now.” Cooper growled, feeling his patience wear thin.
“Or what, Ghoul?” The man never got to hear another response. In a flash, Howard had aimed his gun and fired on his legs. Blowing both of them off, the not-so-tough man now crumbled to the ground, screaming and crying, pleading for the ghoul to have mercy on him.
“Well, ain’t that some shit.” The Ghoul growled, tying a rope around the torso of the man, and began to drag him to the trader’s hut. He focused on the task at hand, knowing that DogMeat would take care of anyone else that had dared get close to her owner.
Walking out of the trader’s hut, Cooper’s eyes scanned the town as he tried to find her partner. He found her, hugging her lugs, stuck in the same place that she was being held. DogMeat was chowing down on the legs that were left. His pocket felt heavy with the weight of the caps, but all that mattered now was taking care of her.
“You alright there, sweetheart?” Howard held a hand out for her to grab onto, and she did. Eagerly shoving her face into his chest and letting out a shaky breath as she processed the events that had just unfolded.
“I’m good. Can we go please?” Her words were muffled in his shirt, but he understood them plenty. Calling for DogMeat, Cooper led the three of them out of the town and into somewhere more secluded. Once they were there, tears fell from her eyes as the weight of what happened fully caught up to her. He set her down on something resembling a chair, and squatted down in front to check her over.
“You saved me.” She whispered, letting her partner do what he needed to do.
“Course I did. What’d you expect? Me to leave you with that man?” He countered with a ridiculous tone.
“It’s like one of your old sheriff films.” Her giggles matched his groan as he dropped his head.
“This ain’t the movies, darlin’.” Cooper looked up at her.
“It’s kinda like the movies.” She replied, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to bring him in close.
“I can always take you back to that town and leave you there.” He stated in her shoulder. She giggled again.
“That’s not very sheriff-y of you.” Every time he thought he had won, she proved him wrong.
“Alright,” he stood up and took her with him, “let’s get moving. Maybe if we’re lucky we can find another house to sleep in.”
“Ooo, do you think we could find one with a television and a few films?” She teased, already walking off away from town. Cooper groaned, but caught up to her and kept her underneath his arm as they walked away from that town.
#rebelliousstories#writing#cooper the ghoul howard#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x oc#cooper howard imagine#cooper howard#the ghoul x oc#the ghoul imagine#the ghoul fallout#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul#fallout imagine#fallout
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Do you think you could write some hcs about HSR men comforting reader who woke up from a nightmare?
Bonus if the source of the nightmare was Silver Wolf telling scary stories.
Argenti
Would immediately wake up the moment he senses that your sleep was being disturbed.
‘My sweet, what’s troubling you?’ He’d ask you, his eyes shone with concern.
‘Just got spooked by the story Silver Wolf told last night.’ You tell him.
‘Aww my beloved rose.’ He coos softly.
‘I know it’s stupid.’ You scoffed.
‘Oh no, not at all.’ He replied as he scooted himself closer to you and brought his hands up to hold your face and used his finger pads to caress your skin soothingly.
‘It’s okay to be scared for it is a reaction shared amongst all beings, but you should never feel such a way when I’m here to keep you safe.’ Argenti said as he presses his forehead to yours and began to hum a sweet, tender melody that swiftly had you drifting off back sleep within seconds.
‘Goodnight my beloved rose.’ He whispered after performing his song, pressing a kiss to your forehand and followed you in the dream realm where he could continue protecting you.
Welt
When Welt saw you had woken yourself from a nightmare and were obviously still reeling from the effects, he would wordlessly bring you into his arms slowly enough as not to frighten you and have you rest your head against his chest.
‘Are you comfortable in telling me what happened?’ He asks barely above a whisper.
‘It’s stupid.’ You replied, voice muffled from the way your face was pressed against his chest.
‘Not if it’s got you frightened this badly.’ He says against your head, his hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly.
‘It was the story Silver Wolf told last night.’ You finally tell him after debating on it for a bit.
‘It was truly a well put together story,’ Welt began as he recalled the events of last night and how tense you were the entire time, ‘I must admit I was slightly taken aback at times.’
You raised your head from his chest to look him in his warm eyes. ‘You were scared too?’ You asked.
‘Kind of.’ Welt chuckles as he brought your head back to his chest and press several kisses to your forehead. ‘Now if I’m allowed, I would like to tell you a story of my own. I must preference this beforehand that it’s not a well written one, but I hope it brings you comfort regardless.’
‘Please.’ You pleaded as you burrowed yourself further against his chest, practically clinging on to him. ‘Anything you say is better than nothing.’ You added.
‘Very well then.’ Welt cleared his throat. ‘There once was a young lady with vibrantly pink hair who had an…habit of wandering into places she probably shouldn’t have. This is merely one story out of many, many, many others…’
Blade
Is an extremely light sleeper, so any movement you made was picked up almost immeditly and he was more than ready to grab his sword when he felt your breath hitch in your throat.
He genuinely thought you were in danger, only to find out you had just woken up from a nightmare.
‘What’s wrong.’ He’d ask gruffly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
‘Nothing.’ You replied.
‘Bullshit.’ He scoffs.
‘Fine it was the scary story Silver Wolf told.’ You admitted and Blade raised a brow.
‘You do know none of it’s real right?’ He then asks while biting back a yawn.
‘Yeah no shit but that doesn’t stop the fact that it really freaked me the fuck out.’ You told him as you looked away from him, knowing you weren’t going to get much comfort out of him, seeing as how he’s never known a day of it.
Blade sighed when you showed him your back, knowing you were expecting to be comforted, as he then shuffles himself behind you and puts his arms over your waist all the while caging you against his chest.
‘Nothings going to get you, I won’t allow it.’ He reminds you as he burrows his face into your neck. ‘So there’s no need to be afraid when I’m here and am willing to put body on the line if it meant you sleeping soundly. What’s a few new scars compared to the old.’ He adds as he kept his eyes locked onto the door to the bedroom for a while, just long enough for you to comfortably go back to sleep before following soon after.
#hsr imagines#hsr imagine#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail#Honkai star rail imagine#Honkai star rail imagines#welt yang imagines#welt yang imagine#welt yang x reader#welt x reader#argenti x reader#Argenti imagine#Argenti imagines#blade imagines#blade imagine#blade x reader#hsr blade x reader#hsr blade x you#hsr argenti x reader#hsr welt x reader
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you and the beyonce professor had beef??? do you wanna to share the details?? it’s okay if not!
god okay this is going to sound so insane and overexaggerated but I swear it's not, also I am going to leave out a LOT of further context for the sake of protecting people's identities
but extremely tl;dr I was on the executive board of my campus' GSA and we needed a new advisor (our old advisor quit because we went after the most powerful student group on campus for bringing an extremely transphobic comedian to campus and he didn't want that heat) so we reached out to her because she was a cool new youngish professor teaching a very cool and exciting class and we all wanted to develop that working relationship with her
except we reached out via a member of our board who was in the Beyoncé class and was really right with her, and then like ONE WEEK after she agreed to be our advisor we had our bi-annual election for executive board positions and the student she had this relationship with lost their position. and we were all like, okay, bummer, but no big deal, she already signed the paperwork and surely this is a professional adult who won't care that her one special little student isn't on the board anymore :)
but what ACTUALLY happened was that This Person who lost their position dragged the rest of the board into a TWO HOUR meeting with the Beyoncé professor, where they accused us of rigging the election against them (no) and the professor accused us all of being transphobic every time we tried to argue (it must be noted that almost the entire board was trans at that point, I literally might have been the only token cis). this culminated in her calling us all, and I QUOTE because it haunts me to this day, "petty, unfortunate, and immature" and resigning THREE DAYS after signing the paperwork to be our advsior.
so like. how was I supposed to take a class with this woman after that lmao.
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Seventeen and first dates (all members)
More like this on Seventeen Masterlist <3
Requests are open!
Genre: FLUFF
→ Choi Seungcheol
“You do look like a fish” he says.
You and cheol were walking around in an aquarium as your first official date. You both have been really close friends for a while before you decided to finally give into your feelings and see where it goes with each other.
You couldn’t be happier, cheol really was the best thing that happened to you, even friendship wise. The sweetest boy.
“Look, that looks exactly like you” he points to ansilly looking fish through the glass.
You put you lips out and pout like a fish.
“Close your eyes; you look exactly like this fish behind you,”
You giggle at that, you’ve never been told you look like a fish and that made you laugh,
“let me take a picture” he says.
You stand at the glass, with your lips out and eyes closed. After two clicks you feel someone in front of you and a pair of lips, pecking yours.
“Hey!” You were fully red. It was your first kiss with him. It was playful and so sweet. Nothing like you imagined but a 100 times cuter, innocent.
“Sue me! I stole a kiss” he says running away from you while you chase him.
“Come back here”
→Yoon Jeonghan
“You can’t eat anything if you don’t catch anything!,” jeonghan tells you while you stand at this pool like area for fishes.
You and Jeonghan confessed quite mutually to each other that you liked each other. All your friends could see it, how you would kick your feet at his messages and how he would giggle at yours. You weren’t just friends.
“You’ll let your girlfriend starve?” You ask acting offended.
He pauses for a second and scans you top to bottom.
“Yes”
You playfully smack him while the fish catching turns into a competition about who catches more fish. At the end of the night you had 6 fishes you caught, snd you foulness possibly eat 6 fishes so you gave some away to the kids who couldn’t catch any.
“If this is how we were going to catch fish, I would’ve taken you fishing instead”
“I am somewhat of a master fisherman myself”
You giggle at the reference.
→ Hong Joshua
You’ve liked joshua ever since he transfered to you school in high school. He was your bench mate and it wasn’t a long time before you fell for his charm, he was a handsome boy with such a kind heart. You still had an umbrella he gave you to use.
You met him again at a reunion after years and the group of friends planned to go to an amusement park that weekend at the reunion.
Seeing him again, after years set you off with some feelings, all unresolved.
You reached the amusement park as a group but little did you know it was a set up and suddenly you and Joshua were left alone.
You ended up touring the entire park, you realised he was the same crazy shua you knew and liked. Everything he did made you laugh.
“Here!” He says and hands you a bracelet he won shooting at balloons.
“A souvenir from our first date” he adds.
You look up at him in surprise.
“First date?”
“Unless you don’t want it to be”
“No, of course, I like that”
“Good”
‘Our first date’ rang in your head the rest of the day.
→ Moon Junhui
This was the first time you had gone over to your boyfriend, Jun's apartment. He liked decorating his apartment and interior design, his apartment was full of decorative items, you went through them all. it was fascinating how much you realise of a person just by seeing how they decorate their spaces.
Jun had called you over for a home cooked meal that he was so confident about. He was so excited to make you this Malapot that he knows he makes the best. He wanted to almost show off to you and impress you with his food.
You were excited for the food too, just listening to him talk about it made you drool when you made the plan.
"Ah it's ruined" you hear jun's voice from the kitchen.
"What's wrong?" you walk over.
"Somethings wrong, it's not tasting the way it's supposed to" he says dejected. You go over and he gives you a spoonful of broth from the pot. It was quite flavourful.
"It's good Jun, what's wrong?" you ask again.
"It's good, not great, I can do so much better" he was very disappointed. He just wanted you to enjoy his food and like his food.
"I'll eat anything you make junnie" you say hugging his side while his eyes never leave the pot in front of him.
You force him to look at you.
"There's always a next time, I'm not going anywhere"
He finally smiles.
→ Kwon Hoshi
You were cycling with your boyfriend of 1 week, hoshi. You met at a fashion show and immediately clicked. You fell for his goofy personality and felt this urge to protect him from the world.
He asked you out first and you happily agreed. Both of you had some feelings some flirtatious text messages happening between the two of you.
But today you could taste blood, he was cycling way too hard and you couldn’t catch up.
He was a little ahead of you while you volunteered to crash in the grass to relax, you would’ve died if you went on for a little longer.
You were panting while the tiger came back to you to check if you are okay.
“Cycling is too hard” you say between laboured breaths.
“You have no stamina” he smirks suggesting something completely different.
It was your chance to chase him down for that comment.
“We’ll see” you blush but also respond sassily chasing him in the grass.
→ Jeon Wonwoo
Jeon Wonwoo, your next door neighbour that had taken a liking to you, has made it routine to pick you up from office everyday, so you could go back home together.
You were still unsure about dating him and he gave you all the time in the world to come to a decision.
You wanted to surprise him today, by agreeing to date him. You had spent a lot of time together and he was a sweet guy. You were just scared of something, past relationships weren’t exactly a flower path. He understood that.
You came out of your office building, to see wonwoo, hopefully your soon to be boyfriend, waiting at his bike.
“Did you wait for too long?”
He smiles. “I’ll wait forever, if its for you”
Maybe you don’t have to wait anymore.
You take a deep breath and take his hands in yours.
“Listen, I had to talk to you about something”
His body language changes and he’s almost nervous. You fidget with his thumb, very embarrassed and shy.
“Whats wrong?” He asks getting concerned at how you couldn’t make eye contact with him.
“I gave us a thought”
He visibly freezes. Like he’s preparing himself for anything thats to come.
“I like you Wonwoo, I know I’ve been scared but Im ready to get through that”
There is a glowing smile on his face. “I’ll treat you so well, I promise” his hand pats your hair. It makes you feel safe and reassured.
“So girlfriend?” He asks putting your helmet on you and buckling up for you.
Him calling you girlfriend sets your chest on fire.
“Yes, boyfriend” you squeak out, not used to this.
“Let me take you to the moon, our first date”
“I’ll go anywhere with you” you say softly, getting on his bike.
→ Lee Jihoon
Jihoon was a schoolmate first, your co worker second, he recommended you at the company you work at now. You became close with him being the only person you knew. Soon, this closeness turned into romantic feelings. You couldn’t get him out of your head.
You asked him out, you straight up told him, you like him and what he thinks about it. It was the first time you had seen him speechless. He took a minute to collect himself before he said “sure” and you started dating. Although his demeanour may seem as if he doesn’t care but you know he likes you too. There has been multiple times jihoon has gone out of his way to help you blend into your work and otherwise.
“Our first dinner in the studio” he said and it made you smile. You like when he says ‘ours’
“You never let me eat in the studio, how cone today you called me here”
His face turns red before he answers. “I thought it’ll be rude to have your girlfriend eat out while I work in the studio”
It was your turn to turn red. You mutter “cute” under your breath.
The power suddenly shuts down and the whole room goes pitch black. Jihoon steps out to see if its just his studio.
“I think something wrong with the generator on this wing” he says sitting next to you on the couch while you gobble up the food you brought for the both of you.
You hear him sigh and carefully lay his hesd on your shoulder.
“Are you tired?”
He shakes his head cuddling closer, you never took him for a cuddler but its like a cat, if a cat CHOOSES you to cuddle, you shouldn’t move. Thats exactly what you did.
You turn on the light on your phone and set it on the coffee table next to your food.
“Torch light dinner”
You hear him chuckle at that while you offer him some food almost feeding him.
You hoped the light never came back and this stayed like this forever.
→ Seo Myungho
You ran an art workshop where you met Minghao for the first time. You didn’t know what he did and who he was until you saw your pictures plastered all over the internet one day.
He was the first to say he likes you. You liked him too, he brought perspective to your life and you loved that about him.
You and him were at a library having a relaxed date but the thing is you suggested going to a library when you didn’t even read.
You look over at hao, sitting by the window completely immersed in his book, he looked gorgeous. You pick out a comic to read from the shelf. You were a bad reader, even comics bored you after a while. But since Hao liked reading you thought you can enjoy it too. You sat next to him on the couch he was at.
You flipped through the pages and almost got bored instantly.
“Trouble reading?” You hear a whisper next to you.
You look up, not being able to manage this front you put on to impress him.
This was the second time he caught you looking bored.
“I’ll be honest, I’ve never been a reader”
“Everyone’s a reader, you just haven’t found the right book yet”
He’s so wise and calm, he brings stability to your chaos. He suggested a book you might like and he was right, you were immediately hooked to the premise and discovered that you like the thriller genre that doesn’t let you put your book down.
→ Kim Mingyu
“Are you sure you don’t want anything?”
You shake your head no. Kim Mingyu was a random guy you bumped into at a coffee shop you frequented at. You madecthe first move and dared to ask his number.
Turns out he was the sweetest guy you had spoken to in 4 years. He really reset your brain and suddenly you just wanted to do everything in your power to see where things go. You felt an instant connection you didn’t want to let go of and regret later. You decided you’d go for it.
Kim mingyu comes back to your car, you and him decide to watch a screening of cars 2 in a drive in theatre. You have never been to one and he was excited to show you.
As soon as he opens his package of food, the air is filled with the smell of burrito. It makes you hungry as soon as it hits your nose. But you already told him you didn’t want any, and asking for even a bite felt criminal.
But you were subconsciously staring at his food.
“You’re staring y:n” he calls you out.
You immediately snap out of it and look away, muttering a quick sorry under your breath.
You see him dig into his package and pull out another burrito wrap.
“This is for you” he hands you a wrap.
“No, Im really fine” you defend yourself again, but you were so so hungry.
“I know what ‘im fine’ means y/n, it means you’ll get hungry when you watch me eat” he says smiling like the big puppy he is.
You can’t help but give in, you take a wrap from him smiling sheepishly. He really was the best.
“You eat so well, it could make anyone hungry” you say cutely while he gobbled up his burrito in literally 2 bites. It was insane to watch this man eat.
He pats your head softly.
“HEY! Burrito hands!” You squeal while he laughs.
→ Lee Dokyeom
You and Dokyeom were cycling in the park. It was one of your first dates. You had met him at a coffee shop,ordering something you also liked so he offered to pay for yours too.
Here you were on another date with the goofball. The original plan was to bicycle around the park and get some lunch at a picnic spot.
But, as with dokyeom, he fell off his bike showing off some ‘cool’ moves to you. Although he made you laugh but the fall looked bad. You ended up getting him some ice from the store to press on his wrist.
“This is very normal”
“What do you mean?”
"I was a very… curious kid, i’d put my feet out on the road as a car would pass, just to see how it feels” you laugh out loud at that. “That’s hilarious”
“At least this is making you hold my hand” he says looking down at your hands pressing his with ice while your other hand hold his wrist in place.
This realisation makes your ears go red.
→ Boo Seungkwan
“I can’t believe it” seungkwan exclaims.
You met seungkwan as a trainee and you had become fast friends. But life happened and you decided not to be a trainee anymore. You ended up going for artist management and becoming a manager.
Life had plans of its own when they assigned you to seungkwan and your friendship rekindled. This time the friendship took a step further and you started to love spending time with him laughing with him.
One fine day in the car you blurted out that you liked him while driving him to a solo schedule. To your surprise he reciprocated these feelings. You were the happiest girl that day.
“What what happened?” You ask. You and seungkwan had come hiking to a mountain close to his place.
“My pants tore”
You laugh out loud. “What a memorable first date” you continue laughing while he scurries to cover himself with his bag and a towel he had brought in his little backpack.
“What a story, ‘kids, your dad hiked so hard, his pants tore on our first date’” you laugh thinking about the anecdote you have now you can use. Its a funny story.
“You want to have kids with me?” He asks stopping what he did and looks up at you
You freeze at what had just come out of your mouth. You did not mean it like that but now that you think about it definitely sounded like you wanted to have his babies.
“Um..”
“Thats cute” he says and a sense of relief washes over you as you try to come up with something else to catch the subject STAT.
→ Choi Vernon
Vernon wanted to watch this scary movie and you liked him so much you just wanted to be with him. But you forgot how scary scary movies can become.
Half way through the movie you were flinching and just uncomfortable in your seat, it really felt like someone was going to grab your feet from under the seat.
Seeing you this uncomfortable, vernon casually decided to put his arm around you and cover your eyes for you while you covered your ears with both your hands to protect yourself from jumpscares.
This position automatically made you lean into him a little and it made you feel a million types of a ways. He smelled good was the only consistent thought.
“Are you okay?” He asks leaning into your ears and whispering.
It sent a shiver down your spine. You nod without being able to push out any words. You liked being this close to him. ‘The things you do to me Choi Vernon’ you think to yourself.
You could watch a thousand horror movies if this is how you watch it.
→ Lee Chan
“Its burnt!” He exclaimed looking at the marshmellow you decided to toast for yourself.
“Thats the flavour!” You defend. You liked slightly burnt marshmallows.
You and chan are childhood friends that ended up falling for each other. Your way of showing love was through constant banter.
One such banter, Chan ended up confessing his feelings for you and you found it so cute.
You move away to get some crackers for the marshmallows. As you come back you hear a scream.
“Whats wrong whats wrong?” You panic and rush to him. You see Chan holding his fingers out and hissing in pain.
You immediately take his hand to inspect.
You see that it was a little red, he probably burnt himself. You see him think for a second. He is going to say something funny, you knew that look on his face, trying to cook up a joke.
“I burnt myself so you’ll like me” he said dramatically looking into your eyes.
The lamest joke ever made you laugh so hard, only because it was Chan who said it.
#svt imagines#svt preferences#seventeen#carats#caratland#svt scenarios#svt jun#svt hoshi#svt wonwoo#svt woozi#svt minghao#svt Mingyu#svt dokyeom#svt seungkwan#svt vernon#svt dino#dad svt#seventeen dad#dad!scoups#dad!svt#lee chan#dino x reader#seungkwan x reader#hoshi x reader#woozi x reader#svt fluff#svt#scoups x reader#jeonghan x reader#joshua x reader
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Hmmm Phantom Planet compliant except I had a random idea about the 4th version of Vlad in the 'Ten Years Later' section on the wiki (Listen I forget stuff a lot so if it's there I use it alright-)
Okay so Vlad, gets flung out to space and flies away from earth, then gets captured and turned into a slave by aliens and because he was the strongest among them, he's used both for work and sport. Where am I going with this? Easy, when Vlad was a slave he unfortunately (in his mind) gets attached to other slaves from other races who could either be adults or children your pick, I guess? So, when he breaks out and escapes, he doesn't do so alone.
This results in Vlad wandering around space with his new 'crew' doing... well, honestly I have no clue? Maaaybe trying to return members who still have a family (and a home) to return to back to them or whatever. Perhaps even because Vlad still doesn't have a good (he's a business man what did you expect?) moral compass, he kinda also steals from a few other planets or something.
Also taking the thing from the V4 where Vlad doesn't remove his shackles despite changing clothes because he wants to remind himself where and how far he came. Because boy do I actually like that.
So basically, space nomad Vlad with a not very good moral compass who regularly steal tech and other such things from planets while doing business with others along with the few members of his crew he's got left with a giant ship that he stole from his captors and also upgraded because he simply could.
Then he pulls up to Earth after a full ten years of being gone in Earth time, finally caving in because his crew wanted to see where exactly he hailed from and that he should totally have the opportunity to go back like he gave the others.
He does not expect for Earth to have changed one bit in his time away, he does expect something to happen when he enters Earth because you know, giant spaceship?
He does not expect to come across Earth after it had recently been invaded by another race.
He also did not expect to come face to face with this 'Justice League' that he's been hearing whispers of in space. He's known of them, of course, but he always thought that they were from another planet.
Not his homeworld.
(Meanwhile, Danny is just kind of there in the background, having faded since the Justice League was formed and they combated against multiple world ending threats. Which is exactly how he likes it, honestly. Normal life hooray!)
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the eldest river in "the impossible astronaut" is always so fucking distressing to me in hindsight. the way she knows what's going to happen at lake silencio, but she can't say anything to the people she loves most. she constantly has to lie, always has to play pretend. spoilers. the fate of the entire universe depends on it.
and the doctor, her doctor, doesn't trust her because of it.
because of all the lies. because of what she has to do to necessarily protect them both.
how she has to revisit her ugly childhood and fractured youth and watch it from afar, incapable of helping that scared little girl in a spacesuit, the young woman submerged in the water.
and she watches her husband and parents, too—watches them watching her own making—and they don't even know it.
There's this exchange between her and her mother that becomes all the more harrowing when you realizing that she's talking about herself.
River: I know what you're thinking.
Amy: No, you don't.
River: You're thinking, "If we can find the spaceman in 1969 and neutralize it, then it won't be around in 2011 to kill the Doctor."
Amy: Okay, lucky guess.
River: It's only because I was thinking it, too.
and then there's the moment where she catches a glimpse of the Silence in the tunnels and all that pain and trauma comes rushing back to her in an sickening instant, and even when they disappear from her memory, that horror still lingers in her body, but she pretends to keep it together anyway for other people's sake anyway.
in those dark tunnels, she only allows herself five minutes to fall apart away from prying eyes.
and she would have gotten away with it, too, had her father not shown up. he's concerned—even though he doesn't know her very well yet—and he's there, and he's asking all the right questions.
Is she okay? what did she mean when said there's a worse day coming for her?
And River opens up to him in a way that we've rarely seen her do.
River: The trouble is, it's all back-to-front. My past is his future. We're traveling in opposite directions. Every time we meet, I know him more, he knows me less. I live for the days when I see him, but I know that every time I do, he'll be one step further away. And the day is coming when I'll look into that man's eyes, my Doctor, and he won't have the faintest idea who I am. And I think it's going to kill me.
fucking gutting.
#river song#s: doctor who#maggie blogs#the lie about wanting to looking around in the tunnel for five more minutes always gets to me#goddamn - she puts up so many walls to protect herself#the doctor#her parents#all of time and space itself#but when they inevitably come crashing down#all the ruins land on her head
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Ooohhh any head cannons with malleus! Yutu and how diasomnia reacts to them?
Ah yes the banished Prince. I was wondering when I was going to get an ask about him, and I admit I am a bit surprised it was only the one unlike a certain other prince. It's rather fitting to come back to Yutu posts with him though, there's a great deal of tragedy to be had with Malleus in this ayuu.
notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. SPOILERS FROM BOOK 7 ON HOW DRAGON FAE REPRODUCE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, PROCEED WITH CAUTION.
I've mentioned it before but Malleus! Yutu plays by half elf rules. He's very young looking, he's around the same age that Yuu is, whatever you think that is, but he looks around 15 at most and shares his father's eyes and teeth. Even in your world he had a reputation for being quite baby faced, this annoys him quite a lot, though he keeps his outrage to a brief pout if the person talking about it is Yuu.
Yuu remembers Malleus being their best friend, someone who was socially awkward due to isolation and came off as intense and scary because of it. They go to great lengths to try and encourage Yutu to make friends, but the public opinion of them as weirdos really hinders this and is only increased as Yutu matures. This Yutu doesn't like people very much, he grows up assuming everyone is mean and overly judgemental and that he will never be truly accepted for who he is no matter how hard he tries.
Being born in a different world does not make him any less of a Draconia, though unlike his father he is less prone to rage and more to long periods of melancholy; he is very much that sensitive goth kid with reams of bad poetry he will want to burn when he gets older and a love for rainy days. He has a deep love for classical poetry, music, and old clothes. If the area where Yuu lived had a ren faire then you can best bet Yuu took him there as a special treat more than once, he loves seeing all the medieval outfits and activities. He's explored every cemetery your town has, knows all of it's weird rumors, and any fun history stuff that might have happened in and around it, something he retains when transported to Twisted Wonderland. There are few people who know more about the history of Night Raven College than Yutu Draconia, for better or worse.
His interest in the macabre effects how he sees his parent's situation. While other Yutus might have needed time to adjust to the idea of magic and curses, Malleus! Yutu always firmly believed in it and assumed that was exactly what had happened to his parent. He went back and forth on his beliefs about his father, as a small child he thought of his father as a wonderful person who loved his parent so much that he must be searching for them surely, and that any day now he would swoop in and fly Yuu and him away to where they really belonged. When that never happened he began to wonder if maybe his father saw his relationship with Yuu as a mistake and that their memories had been altered purposefully to hide his identity. Whatever the truth, Yutu has decided that his loyalty is to Yuu, and that no matter who is trying to harm them he will hunt them down and have his revenge.
He announces as much to Crewel after he arrives in the mirror chamber, magic sparking at his finger tips as he roars it with a force he didn't know he had and immediately starts hacking at how dry his throat has become. It's very cute and not as intimidating as he might have wanted, but his point comes across well enough. Diasomnia is extremely pleased to have a Draconia back in the Housewarden's seat, though Yutu is less than pleased with this new position of authority.
The transition of being a hated outcast to the rightful King of a literal fallen kingdom is jarring. Learning of his father's controversial marriage to Yuu, of the uproar caused by their disappearance and his father's outright refusal to ever give up hope that his child and spouse would return is heartbreaking. Silver and Sebek had standing orders to go to them when not if they did, that's how badly his father wanted to believe he would be back. He was barely able to live with himself without them, but he had to. He had a kingdom relying on him, and someone else too.
We have gone back and forth in these posts about giving Yutu a sibling, but Malleus! Yutu absolutely has one. Dragon fae create eggs from magic and their partner's love, so in this scenario Malleus and Yuu decided to have two children, one that Mal would nourish and one that Yuu would. Technically, the Crown Princess is older than Yutu, but since she hatched from an egg she matures even slower than he does. She did grow faster than her father, the ability to transform into a human came much more naturally to her because of Yuu's love, but she doesn't look or sound much older than six. You are insane if you think this means she thinks of herself as the younger sibling though, her egg was older by two whole years so there! That means she is in charge! So Yutu absolutely has to stop learning boring "political smience" or whatever and play with her RIGHT NOW. She's wanted to meet him for so long TᴖT how dare her little brother deny her TᴖT look at her she's so cute how could he even think of scolding her TᴖT oh jail for brother jail for 1000 years TᴖT
Yutu might hate socializing and have a negative view of people but he absolutely adores his sister and thinks of himself as the big brother. He lets her claim to be in charge in the same way Malleus let Sebek do whatever he wanted because he finds it amusing. It is not uncommon to see the King in Exile holding court with the Crown Princess on his lap, rocking her softly as she naps. It helps solidify his control over what remains of Briar Valley, they might have been skeptical about having a half human King who cannot even transform into a dragon, but his professed dedication to his father's legacy of sacrifice and the clear adoration of his sister make his authority tough to deny.
Speaking of sacrifice, going back in time was hard for Malleus! Yutu. He felt there was absolutely no way he could bring his sister back with him because of how young she was and he was skeptical of whether or not it would even work. If it didn't he would be depriving Briar Valley of a king again, but if it did well. Then he would never need to be king in the first place, which Yutu finds reliving. While he did step up to the task, all he ever really wanted was to live with his father, Yuu, and now his sister in whatever way would have been normal for them. Sure, that normal turns out to have been quite abnormal, but that doesn't mean he still does not want it.
When the Once and Never King sees his father he has maybe more information than any of the other Yutus, even those who had met their dads. He conducted lengthy interviews with both Silver and Sebek, compiling a great pile of notes that he went through over and over again trying to come up with a strategy. All of that planning goes out the window when they actually meet, Yuu asks for permission from Tsunotarou to introduce the two of them, thinking it would be nice for both him and Yutu to have more friends and Malleus is just intrigued enough to say yes.
So this is a dragon fae. It's the only thing Yutu can bring himself to think when he sees Malleus, the other, more intense thoughts and emotions are distracted by the fireflies that accompany his father's arrival. They're beautiful, he can't remember having seen anything like them before, certainly not in his future. His father looks at him in brief surprise, and magic tingles up Yutu's spine. It's similar to the feeling he had when he first saw his sister, like recognizing like and seeking to form a connection. It hurts to shut himself off, but he smiles and focuses on his humanity as he puts forward his hand. "Hello Mr. Tsunotarou, I'm Yutu." The smile that stretches its way across Malleus's face is pure amusement, he must have really liked this ruse. What did Yuu think about that when they learned?
"My the humans of your world are certainly brave." He shakes his hand proudly, clearly pleased at the normalcy of Yutu's treatment but still painfully unaware how to be normal about it. "I am deeply pleased to make your acquaintance."
Malleus adores Yutu. There's just something about him that activates a part of him that he wasn't aware of before, and while he doesn't understand what those emotions are he recognizes his increased need to be protective of Yuu for exactly what it is. His mind thinks of Yuu as his mate, in body and soul, and that does terrify him slightly. Yuu is so tragically human, they'll die if he takes them home. They'll die if he lets them go to their home. They'll die if he never says anything at all and lets his love rot out his heart alone in his tower while they freely move through the world without ever having known of his emotions-
I haven't given much thought as to how I would want a Malleyuu confession to go down, but I could see them starting a sort of awkward courting process where Malleus takes them for long, late night walks in the forest to slow dance alone, brings them roses and handcrafted jewels he silently begs for them to wear to show just how close they are getting- but however it happens there is at least an understanding that there is something between them by the time Yutu's disguise is knocked off and he's forced to come clean.
It's a reveal Malleus does not take well. Oh not that he hates his son, he is overwhelmed with such a powerful love and joy at the mere concept of his existence he could never- no it's the fact that his future. His happy ending, that he fucking deserves after everything that his family has been through, was robbed from him and he wasn't able to do anything about it other than go to sleep? Him? The most powerful mage (fifth actually but he doesn't care about that) in existence couldn't stop that? Unacceptable.
After Yuu gets him to calm down and soothes the brewing thunderstorm they both are very focused on the well being of their child. I feel like both Yuu and Malleus would want Yutu to have a chance to just enjoy himself, for him to take off the crown he was never meant to have and just. Breathe for a moment. That's part of Malleus's motivation for introducing him as his son to the Diasomnia gang, he wants his child to have a chance to have some fun with his Uncles and Pee Paw Lilia.
Sebek bursts into tears when he learns of Waka Sama jr's existence. I think he feels a sort of kinship with Yutu, they're both half fae and they both have a deep respect for Malleus. He's very shy when he sees how much respect Yutu has for him. He's surprisingly humble when Yutu thanks him for protecting him in the future, insisting that he was just doing his job. He likes listening to Yutu play the piano, I could see Yutu trying to teach Sebek how to play an instrument, partially to spend time with him and partially just because he is curious as to how tone deaf Sebek can be.
Silver is deeply concerned about Yuu and Yutu's safety. He organizes with Sebek and Lilia to change up their patrols to include defending the new members of the royal family . He is a bit confused as to why Yutu wants to just hang out with him when all he really does is train, but he also is glad that the little prince is willing to train with him and take Silver's concerns about his safety seriously. I could see Silver apologizing for not being able to defend his parent, genuinely distressed about his situation and Yutu being a bit awkward about it. He never thought to blame Silver ever, why would he? Yutu is not unused to Silver's kindness, but it still overwhelms him. It's a pure sort of love that challenges what Yutu thinks about the world, and he doesn't know what to do with that.
Now. Mr. Pee Paw. Lilia is probably the most excited out of the entire group, look at this kid. You see him? Living physical proof that humans and fae can get along! If a Draconia did it then you can too, Grandpa Leven would be so proud! The future is concerning sure, but now that he knows about it he can plan for it. Lilia might be old, but he is still has some fight left in him, and he is very happy to use it on securing Malleus's family's future.
Yes, he does try to cook for Yutu. He wants to make him a birthday cake because he insists that they should throw him a party even if it isn't his birthday so he can have one with his Pee Paw and Dad. Yes everyone forces Yutu to distract him so they can make sure they've got something edible. He's so sad about it, how could they, jail for the little prince, jail for 1000 years.
Malleus is overly confident about his ability to change the future. Failure isn't an option as far as he is concerned, he will find the person who dared to corrupt his perfect future and he will have his due. His son will never have to live in a world without him, and he will never have to live in a world that rejected Yuu. Someone clearly needs to be reminded of just who Malleus Draconia is, and that memory will not be pretty.
Bonus
So the little crown princess. She learns that her idiot younger brother is planning to go back in time without her and she is very angry about this. How dare he, she knows he can't do anything without her so she makes sure to tag along anyway.
I toyed with the future kid reveal coming from her just marching up to Yutu and giving him orders, but I also like the idea of the Draconia family finding her lost in the woods crying because of how distressed she is that she can't find her little brother. Either way she doesn't understand the need for secrecy and wants to spend every single second she can with her parents. She causes a lot of rain when she finally gets to meet Yuu in person, she had so many dreams about meeting them and now they're real and she can hug them- she's just got too many emotions in her little body send help.
The Draconia family has pretty easy to follow naming theme, but I wasn't too certain about what names to give Yutu and his sister. I like the idea of Princess Draconia being named Mallia after Lilia but I am less certain about Yutu. In my notes Miss Princes was just called Princess Tamago because she hatched out of an egg. That's not her name but I could see that being something Yutu calls her.
#<3 asks#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#malleus x reader#malleyuu#malleus draconia x reader
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Spy x Family Chapter 97: An Old Love Story
Okay, say it with me: FOIL!
You can see it too, right? Looks like Martha x Henry (Henderson)'s story is a foil of Twilight and Yor's story.
Henderson was in Twilight's place; the smart, lonely young man so focused on his ideals that he was blind about who was in front of him and his very own feelings.
Martha was in Yor's place, the strong and graceful girl too young and inexperienced to know her own heart and that she was in love.
This is exactly what's happening with Twiyor, the main couple of the story, and I think we may get to see one of the possible endings for our beloved Twiyor through Martha and Henderson story.
Now, what do we know about these two 🤔...
We know that Henry Henderson has a daughter and a son-in-law. It was mentioned he writes to them, but there was no mention of his wife. This leads me to believe that:
His wife is no longer alive.
He lives with his wife, so there's no reason for him to write to her.
He is divorced.
So, with this information we still can't know what's the current relationship between Martha and Henry, but we can take a guess 😉
From the way the story is being told, it almost feels like it's a semi-tragic love story, doesn't it? We can almost assume that they didn't end up together...or did they?
Theory one: Yup, everyone is right and Martha and Henderson eventually went their separate ways for reasons we'll probably get to know in the next couple of chapters.
If this theory is right, I think it's beautiful that they are getting a second chance 💖They certainly look more mature, confident, and calm (also elegant!). I love the way they look at each other, so much trust and love 😌
Theory two: I know this one is a long shot (and Henderson just said in that panel that "She is merely and old friend") but maybe...they're actually married. Why am I so bold to even consider that possibility?! Well, there's this panel:
The matron is clearly teasing Master Henderson, don't you agree? If she does it, it's because she knows something. Either she knows that there was something between those two in their youth or she knows they are married. I don't know, but they way she said the word "partner" and the fact that Master Henderson is married made me think that Martha is his wife. I know, I know...it's a remote possibility, but you have to remember that marriage is mentioned a lot through different characters and couples during the story, so maybe those two were actually married. (But, it's quite possible it's theory one).
Other things to consider...
How long have Ostania and Westalis been at war?
My guess is that we're talking about two different wars between the same countries; very much like WWI and WWII, where there was a brief period of peace before a second conflict. So, probably the first war started while Henderson was in his 20s and the second war started when he was in his 40s (and Twilight was a kid).
It makes a lot of sense that now they're in a period of "Cold War", just like in real life.
The Garden
I am convinced that the Garden is involved in this. I've talked about this before (read it here). After this chapter, I still think the Garden is going to pop up. Want some evidence?
Do you recognize this guy?
That's right 😏 That's Matthew McMahon. What is he doing there? Too much of a coincidence, don't you think?
And also the way this is phrased:
Odd that there was a mention of the word Garden, isn't it? And the fact that the whole story between those two takes place in a garden...🤔
In addition to that, in a previous chapter, Twilight observes how Martha moves like a soldier. Franky mentioned earlier that Garden people are like soldiers. And the Garden has a history of recruiting young skilled/strong people, like Yor. Things keep adding up.
The Consequences of War
This is a prevalent theme throughout the whole SxF universe: how war (violence, intolerance, manipulation of information, propaganda, politics) has affected the life of all the characters.
No matter their background, nationality or education, we've seen it again and again with most of the characters big or small, like Twilight, Franky, Sylvia, Millie, and now we're about to see it with characters from an older generation like Martha and Henderson.
My guess is that this won't be the last time and this pattern will continue while the story lasts. I think what the story is trying to show us is how war is seen by some (politicians and men in power like Desmond) as a natural, inevitable course of action, but at the same time how brutal the consequences are in the smallest stories. That's one of the things that is truly remarkable about SxF.
#spy x family#twiyor#sxf#spy x family manga#spy x family analysis#spy x family theory#sxf chapter 97#spy x family chapter 97#martha marriott#henry henderson#loid forger#yor forger#spy x family meta
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Home | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mention of parental death, mentions of abuse
Word Count: 4388
Series Rewrite Masterlist
You sat cross-legged on the floor of the boys’ motel room, sipping a coffee you’d run out to get earlier that morning. Dean was on his computer, and you were responding to the potential cases he’d found.
“A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali—” Dean started.
“Ooh, I like Cali,” you cut him off.
“—Its crew vanished.” He finished.
“And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas.”
“Meh, that’s boring. Let somebody else handle that one,” you dismissed.
Dean noticed Sam hadn’t spoken in just about the last hour. He was frantically scribbling on a notepad.
“Hey,” Dean called to his brother. “Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?”
“No. I’m listening. Keep going.”
He clearly wasn’t.
“And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times.”
“Ooh, I like that one,” you said.
Dean leaned over and waved a hand in front of Sam’s face. “Any of these things blowin’ up your skirt, pal?”
Sam furrowed his eyebrows at his notepad. “Wait. I’ve seen this.”
“Seen what?” you asked.
Sam got up from his bed and began rifling through his duffel bag.
“What are you doing?” Dean eyed his brother strangely.
The younger brother pulled out a photo from the bag and held it up next to his drawing. You couldn’t quite see what he was looking at from where you sat.
“Guys, I know where we have to go next.”
“Where?” Dean asked.
“Back home. Back to Kansas,” he responded.
The older brother was surprised. “Okay, random. Where’d that come from?”
He showed the photo to the two of you. “Alright, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?”
“Yeah…?” Dean still had no idea where he was going with this.
“And it didn’t burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?”
Dean— as well as you— was still lost. “I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talkin’ about?”
“Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but… the people who live in our old house— I think they might be in danger,” Sam rushed out.
“Why would you think that?” you questioned.
“Uh… it’s just, um… look, just trust me on this, okay?” Sam turned away.
“Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?” Dean shook his head and stood to follow him. “Come on, man, that’s weak. You gotta give us a little bit more than that.”
“I can’t really explain it is all,” Sam shrugged.
“Well, tough. I’m not goin’ anywhere until you do.”
You turned to face Sam as he began to explain. “I have these nightmares.”
You nodded. “We’ve noticed.”
“And sometimes… they come true.”
Dean was stunned. “Come again?”
“Look, Dean… I dreamt about Jessica’s death— for days before it happened,” Sam explained.
“Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.” Dean sat back down on the edge of his bed.
“No,” the younger brother protested. “I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn’t do anything about it ‘cause I didn’t believe it. And now I’m dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that’s where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?”
You felt overwhelmed, and so did Dean. “I don’t know.”
Sam sat down across from his brother. “What do you mean you don’t know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!”
“Sam, slow down—” you urged him, knowing Dean was about to go through the roof.
Sure enough, Dean stood and started pacing. “I mean, first you tell me that you’ve got the Shining? And then you tell me that I’ve gotta go back home? Especially when….”
“When what?” you asked.
Dean’s voice broke for the first time since you’d met him. “When I swore to myself that I would never go back there?”
Sam’s puppy dog eyes appeared as he spoke softly, “Look, Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure.”
Dean nodded. “I know we do.”
***
You looked out at the boys’ childhood home and followed them up to the front door.
“You gonna be alright, man?” Sam asked his brother who didn’t respond.
“Jury’s still out on that,” you muttered in response.
Dean knocked on the front door, and a young woman answered. You could see a look of recognition pass over Sam’s face.
“Yes?” the woman said.
“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but we’re with the Federal—”
One Winchester cut the other off. “I’m Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean. We used to live here. You know, we were just drivin’ by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place.”
The woman seemed surprised and smiled. “Winchester. Yeah, that’s so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night.” She turned to you. “Are you a Winchester, too? I didn’t see a little girl in any of the pictures.”
You shook your head. “No, no. Just a friend. (Y/N).”
She smiled at you. “Nice to meet you. Come on in.”
Inside the home, a girl who looked to be around seven sat at the table doing homework, and a little boy who was presumably two jumped in his playpen.
“Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!” the toddler called excitedly.
“That’s Ritchie. He’s kind of a juice junkie,” Jenny explained, taking a sippy cup from the fridge and bringing it to her son. “But, hey, at least he won’t get scurvy.” She walked back over to her daughter. “Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and (Y/N). The boys used to live here.”
“Hi,” the shy girl said quietly.
You waved.
“So, you just moved in?” Dean asked.
“Yeah, from Wichita.”
“You got family here, or…?”
Jenny’s smile faded. “No. I just, uh… needed a fresh start, that’s all. So, new town, new job— I mean, as soon as I find one. New house.”
“So, how you likin’ it so far?” Sam questioned.
Jenny laughed awkwardly. “Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home— I mean, I’m sure you had lots of happy memories here—”
You discreetly turned to see Dean smile weakly.
“But this place has its issues,” she finished.
“What do you mean?” you asked.
“Well, it’s just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We’ve got flickering lights almost hourly.”
That caught your attention. “Oh, that’s too bad. What else?”
“Um…sink’s backed up, there’s rats in the basement…” She trailed off. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain.”
Dean shook his head. “No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?”
Jenny looked at him quizzically. “It’s just the scratching, actually.”
Sari tugged on her mom’s shirt, who stooped down next to her. “Ask them if it was here when they lived here.”
“What, Sari?” Sam asked.
“The thing in my closet,” she whispered as if the thing would hear.
“Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets.” Jenny looked up to you and the boys. “Right?”
They shook their heads.
“She had a nightmare the other night,” Jenny explained.
Sari’s voice suddenly got louder. “I wasn’t dreaming. It came into my bedroom and it was on fire.”
The boys seemed too shocked to speak.
You took over. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You’re okay now though, right?”
She nodded.
“See? It didn’t get ya. It was only a dream.”
You knew it wasn’t. A pit filled your stomach after saying your goodbyes to the family and heading out of the door.
“You hear that? A figure on fire,” Sam reminded the two of you.
“And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?” Dean asked.
"Yeah. And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit.”
“Yeah, well, I’m just freaked out that your weirdo visions are comin’ true,” the older brother chuckled humorlessly.
“Well, forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it’s the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?”
“I don’t know!” Dean responded.
The brothers were only making each other panic worse at this point.
“Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?” Sam inquired.
“Or maybe it’s something else entirely, Sam, we don’t know yet.”
“Both of you need to calm down,” you told them, simultaneously getting in the car. “We’re gonna get those people safe. Whatever’s in there is not gonna hurt you or those people.”
“Thank you, Dr. Phil,” Dean remarked.
You snapped into a more intense tone, leaning over the backseat. “Look, dude, you’re gonna get your shit together. The two of you are only ramping each other up. Now, you are going to get a grip or I will do this job on my own.”
Sam and Dean both nodded.
“You’re runnin’ low on gas, Dee.” You patted Dean’s cheek before sitting back against your chair.
***
“We just gotta chill out, that’s all,” Dean said as he pumped gas.
“I’ve tried telling you that eighty times since we left that house.”
He ignored your snide comment. “You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?”
"We’d try to figure out what we were dealin’ with. We’d dig into the history of the house,” Sam sighed.
"Exactly,” the older brother began, “except this time, we already know what happened.”
"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?”
"About that night, you mean?”
"Yeah.”
Dean paused. “Not much. I remember the fire… the heat. And then I carried you out the front door.”
You looked at the floor, knowing how hard this must be for him to open up.
“You did?” the younger Winchester asked.
"Yeah, what, you never knew that?”
"No.”
“And, well, you know Dad’s story as well as I do. Mom was— was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her.”
“And he never had a theory about what did it?”
“If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times.”
"Okay. So, if we’re gonna figure out what’s goin’ on now…we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it’s the same thing.”
You decided to add your two cents. “Yeah. We can talk to your dad’s friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time.”
Silence blanketed the three of you for a moment, the air feeling heavy.
“Does this feel like just another job to you?” Sam piped up.
‘Of course, it doesn’t,’ you thought.
Dean kept quiet for a moment. “I’ll be right back,” he finally said. “I gotta go to the bathroom.” He walked away, and you watched him turn the corner around the gas station. He looked back for a moment, and you assumed it was to see if anyone had followed him.
You furrowed your brows. You allowed a few minutes to pass before you announced to Sam, “I’m gonna go check on Dean.”
While you turned the corner, you saw Dean exiting the bathroom door. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. When he noticed you, he tried to shoulder his normal attitude.
“You stalkin’ me?”
“No, actually, I came to check on you.”
“Well, I’m fine.” He went to brush past you.
You grabbed his bicep. “Don’t lie to me.”
He stopped, looking you over. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”
“Then what’s this?” you gently brushed your first finger under his chin, picking up a tear he had forgotten to wipe away. You held it up for him to see.
Dean opened his mouth to say something before snapping it shut again. He gently pulled his arm out of your grip. “C’mon, let’s go.” He started walking away from you.
You caught up to him, asking, “Are you sure you don’t just want me to do this one by myself?”
He nodded sharply.
Sam gave you a curious look while Dean got in the car.
You shook your head before the two of you ducked into the Impala simultaneously.
***
The three of you spoke to a man who had owned a car garage with John years ago. You learned how much John had changed before Mary’s death versus after, and you began to understand why Dean was the way he was. You also learned that he had been going to see a palm reader in town. Dean recognized the names of one of the palm readers Sam had read from a compiled list: Missouri Moseley. The three of you went over to her house and waited in her foyer as she finished with her last client.
She guided the client out of the door. “Alright, there. Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you.”
The man thanked her, and she closed the door behind you.
She addressed the three of you. “Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin’ the gardener.”
You giggled.
“Why didn’t you tell him?” Dean asked.
“People don’t come here for the truth. They come for good news,” the woman explained.
You stared at her, as did the boys.
“Well? Sam, Dean, (Y/N), come on already, I ain’t got all day.”
You looked at Dean. You knew you hadn’t told her your name. The three of you followed her into the next room.
“Well, lemme look at ya,” she smiled at the boys. “Oh, you boys grew up handsome.” She pointed her finger at Dean. “And you were one goofy-lookin’ kid, too.”
You giggled again. You liked her a lot.
“Sam.” Missouri grabbed his hand. “Oh, honey…I’m sorry about your girlfriend. And your father— he’s missin’?”
“How’d you know all that?” Sam asked her.
“Well, you were just thinkin’ it just now.”
“Well, where is he? Is he okay?” Dean questioned.
Missouri’s smile faded. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t know? Well, you’re supposed to be a psychic, right?”
“Boy, you see me sawin’ some bony tramp in half? You think I’m a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can’t just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please.”
You smirked at Sam and sat down.
Missouri snapped at Dean. “Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I’m ‘a whack you with a spoon!”
“I didn’t do anything!” he responded.
“But you were thinkin’ about it.”
Dean raised an eyebrow, and you and Sam smiled.
“(Y/N), honey, I didn’t mean to completely disregard you,” she smiled at you. “(Y/L/N)... where do I know that name from?” She pondered for a moment and her smile faded. “I knew your dad. Mean ol’ bastard.”
Your throat clenched. You could feel the boys looking at you, but you kept your eyes on Missouri.
“I don’t mean to embarrass you,” she went on. “I’m just sorry about what he did to you. And your brother? You poor thing.” She tsked.
Tears welled in your eyes.
Sam knew he should change the subject. “Okay. So, our dad— when did you first meet him?”
“He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say I drew back the curtains for him,” Missouri explained.
“What about the fire? Do you know about what killed our mom?” Dean questioned.
“A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin’ I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing.”
“And could you?”
You tried to focus on the conversation, but your throat was still choked up. You could vaguely register them talking about what Missouri sensed in their house and how she had been keeping an eye on the place since Mary’s passing. All you could focus on were the memories you were being pulled back into. Memories of what your father put you through and how your mother just stood by. Memories of defending your brother against your father’s wickedness. You tried your best to pull yourself back to the light; you knew Missouri could hear what you were thinking. You wouldn’t let yourself be weak enough to let your father hurt you eight years after his death.
“Baby, you are not weak.” Missouri’s voice pulled you back to shore. “I’m sorry I brought all that up for you.”
You nodded at her, voice too weak to respond. Sam squeezed your hand, and you could feel Dean’s gaze boring into the side of your head.
***
You and the boys headed back to their childhood home with Missouri. You still couldn’t register what was going on outside of your own head. You knew Missouri hadn’t truly brought anything up for you; these memories were all just buried under the surface for you. Hunting didn’t exactly leave much time for you to dwell on your emotions.
Jenny allowed Missouri to come into her home and showed her and your trio into Sari’s bedroom. You were beginning to come back to earth and could focus on the conversation happening around you.
“If there’s a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it,” Missouri explained, walking around Sari’s room.
“Why?” Sam asked.
Missouri turned to him. “This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened.”
Dean pulled out his repurposed walkman.
“That an EMF?” Missouri asked.
“Yeah,” Dean answered.
“Amateur,” she deadpanned.
You noticed the EMF was beeping frantically.
“I don’t know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain’t the thing that took your mom,” Missouri told the Winchesters.
“Wait, are you sure?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.
She nodded.
“How do you know?”
“It isn’t the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It’s somethin’ different.”
“What is it?” Dean asked.
“Not it.” Missouri opened the closer. “Them. There’s more than one spirit in this place.”
“What are they doing here?” Dean asked.
“They’re here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected,” Missouri elaborated.
Sam shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It’s attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won’t rest until Jenny and her babies are dead.”
“You said there was more than one spirit.”
“There is. I just can’t quite make out the second one.”
Dean’s voice became hard. “Well, one thing’s for damn sure— nobody’s dyin’ in this house ever again. So whatever is here, how do we stop it?”
***
After Missouri taught you how to pack small protection bags that you and the boys were to place in the cardinal points on both floors in Jenny’s house, you had to get Jenny and her kids out of harm's way.
“Look, I’m not sure I’m comfortable leaving you guys here alone,” she told Missouri.
“Just take your kids to the movies or somethin’, and it’ll be over by the time you get back.”
You could tell the woman was still unsure, but she followed orders anyway. And with that, the four of you got to work.
When you were halfway done with the job, things started to get ugly. Just as you were about to place your second and final bag in the wall of Jenny’s bedroom, a cord snaked around your neck and pulled tightly. You dropped the bag of herbs to the ground; unable to get it into the wall in time. You gasped for air, frantically reaching for the bag but the spirit’s hold was too strong. Your vision began to spot and your face contorted in discomfort; doing the best you could to get air in your lungs. It was no use. Just when you thought it was over, Dean rushed to your side.
“(Y/N)!” he cried, pulling at the cord with all his might.
You clawed at your neck with one hand and motioned to the bag of herbs with the other. Dean understood what you were trying to say, and kicked a hole in the wall. He quickly put the bag inside, and your neck was released. Your head fell to the ground gasping for air.
Dean pulled you into a fierce hug that left you breathless. He pulled back from you, holding your face on either side. “Are you okay?”
You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. He gingerly touched the place where the cord had undoubtedly bruised your neck. “Can you stand?”
You nodded again. With Dean’s help, you made your way down to Missouri and Sam who stood in the middle of an extremely messy kitchen. Jenny’s kitchen table had been turned on its side with knives driven through the top of it, assumedly by the ghosts. The refrigerator door was swung wide open, and various items from the pantry had spilled out all over the place.
“You sure this is over?” Sam asked the psychic.
“I’m sure. Why? Why do you ask?”
Sam sighed in response. “Never mind. It’s nothin’, I guess.”
The front door opened.
“Hello? We’re home,” Jenny announced when she walked into the house. She came into the kitchen, dumbfounded by the mess. “What happened?”
"Hi, sorry. Um, we’ll pay for all of this,” Sam told her.
“Don’t you worry. Dean’s gonna clean up this mess,” Missouri added.
Dean stood glued to his spot.
“Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop.”
He glared at Missouri, but began walking away nonetheless.
“And don’t cuss at me!”
***
You remained confused by how Dean had hugged you for the rest of the night which you spent in the Impala parked in front of Jenny’s house.
“Alright, so, tell me again, what are we still doin’ here?” Dean asked his brother.
“I don’t know. I just… I still have a bad feeling,” he responded.
“Why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over.”
“Yeah, well, probably. But I just wanna make sure, that’s all.”
Dean slumped down in his seat. “Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now.”
You slumped down in your seat, too, only to see Jenny screaming and banging on her bedroom window. “Guys, look!”
The three of you rushed into the house.
“You two grab the kids, I’ll get Jenny,” Dean said.
You nodded and sprinted to Ritchie’s room. The sleeping toddler was startled when you woke him up, but allowed you to carry him downstairs nonetheless. You met Sam by the front door who said to Sari, “Take your brother outside as fast as you can, and don’t look back.” She obliged and took the little boy from you.
Before the two of you could do anything else, you were slammed to the ground and dragged backward across the tile floor. You could hear poor Sari screaming as you and Sam were dragged away.
You were pinned to the wall by an invisible force and pushed up toward the ceiling. You could hear presumably Dean hacking away at the door, trying desperately to get in as a figure on fire approached you.
Dean made his way into the home and called your names frantically. He raised his gun at the fire figure when he caught sight of it.
“No, don’t! Don’t!” Sam cried.
“What, why?!” you asked.
“Because I know who it is. I can see her now.”
And then, the fire vanished revealing who you recognized from pictures as Mary Winchester. She was wearing a white nightgown and her blonde hair billowed softly around her. Her feet were bare, and her aging skin was only slightly wrinkled.
You could see tears rising in Dean’s eyes as he lowered his gun. “Mom?”
The woman smiled and stepped closer to him. “Dean.”
She walked toward you and her youngest son. “Sam.” Her smile faded. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asked.
She looked at him sadly, but said nothing.
The woman turned to you last. “Thank you,” she said.
You smiled back at her, though you weren’t quite sure what she was thanking you for.
She turned away and looked up toward the ceiling. “You get out of my house. And let go of my son.” Her hair and nightgown were swept up into flames once more. The fire licked up to the ceiling, growing larger before disappearing entirely. You and Sam were released from the wall at once.
“Now it’s over,” Sam muttered.
***
The sun had risen while you and the boys were in the house. You called Missouri back to the Winchesters’ childhood home, and she sat on the porch talking with Sam.
You were standing with Dean by the car looking through his old family photos.
“Thanks for these,” Dean told Jenny.
“Don’t thank me, they’re yours.”
Dean put the trunk of photos and family memorabilia in the car. You and Dean bid Jenny, who thanked you, goodbye before leaning against the car together. The two of you knew you had a lot to talk about, but you weren’t brave enough to start the conversation.
“Are you okay?” Dean asked you.
You couldn’t look at him. “Why do you ask?”
“I think you know.”
You paused a moment before turning to face him. “I promise I’ll tell you, just… not today.” You stuck out your pinkie for him to take.
He chuckled at you. “What are we, five?”
“Just do it, asshole,” you smiled back.
He linked his pinkie with yours, shaking your hand back and forth lightly. The two of you stood there for a second, staring at each other and getting lost in the moment. Before long, you both realized what was going on and jerked away from each other.
Dean scratched his head. “Sam, you ready?” he called.
Sam nodded and came over to the car.
“Don’t you kids be strangers,” Missouri told you.
“We won’t,” Dean responded.
“See you around,” the woman winked at you.
You smiled at her before getting in the car and driving away.
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @thepocketverse @simpingdeadcharacters @elqsiian @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @doublecrazyyymofo
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x you#dean x reader#dean x y/n#dean x you#dean winchester#supernatural#spn#supernatural series rewrite#spn series rewrite
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the moment where charles really breaks down is just. heartbreaking.
"was it too extreme, edwin?"
the trauma. the immediate recognition of abuse. not exactly a full comprehension that the nurse is abusing him (his primary experience is with physical abuse) but how clearly he reacts to the same feelings. was it too extreme, edwin? was it more extreme than a deity of sorts emotionally abusing a 16 year old?
"but every day, I'm fuckin smiling"
just rip my heart to shreds instead please? "cause who else is gonna be the one holding together and keeping spirits up... but what? what good am i even doing?" the total lack of value in himself, the desperate need to find some service to provide. if not the service that would make him feel best (fighting abusers away from victims), at least something. if not what he wants, then at least what he's good at. pretending, laughing, pushing down and shoving aside the pain. at least keeping spirits up.
but now he's too extreme. the one single time he fully reacted to an adult abusing him, he's too extreme.
"i sure as hell couldn't stop my dad from beating the shit out of me.. no matter how good I was"
he wants to please you, he wants to provide a service, he wants you to love him. and no matter how good he is, how self-sacrificing, how rarely he ever loses control, he still can't earn it. he's not perfect. he can't ever be good enough. and now he's "too extreme" for his closest friend. he can't even do what he's good at, can't shut the pain down and to the side to provide his service.
he's sitting there begging and sobbing and confused--"i FAILED. what happens now? what's my punishment? how could you ever love me"
and his closest friend has no idea what to say. none. because edwin doesn't know what the nurse did, doesn't know she forced charles to sit through his most painful and terrifying memories. and neither one of them has the ability to speak directly about it. so what edwin sees is an explosion that was too extreme. he can't see the violence charles just survived. so he says nothing. and we cut to the next scene.
#blur recognized#dead boy detectives#dead boy detectives spoilers#dead boy detectives episode four#theyre so fucking british
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WARNING: VIVZIEPOP CRITICAL, STOLITZ CRITICAL CONTENT.
I get fairly mean in this one, you've been warned.
I am so sorry, Viv. You can't convince me to see Stolitz as anything beyond a toxic, doomed to fail, train wreck.
I'm SO down for a good toxic ship.
In fact, I found their pilot dynamic far more interesting than the current writing seems to be depicting.
I refuse to feel bad for a man that caught feelings for a childhood """friend""" so hard he ruined his own life. Blitz owes NOTHING to Stolas. He agreed to fuck him so he could run a business that is barely discussed, even though it was the original point of the show.
Does it suck that Stolas had to deal with an arranged marriage that he never wanted with a mean wife? Yeah.
You know what else sucks?
THAT STELLA HAD TO MARRY A MAN SHE NEVER WANTED, AND HAD TO GIVE BIRTH TO HIS CHILD. ALL WHILE HAVING A FUCKING CREEP OF A BROTHER. ALL WHILE BEING TREATED AS A MONSTER BY THE FANDOM THAT CAN'T UNDERSTAND HYPOCRISY IF IT BIT THEM IN THE FACE.
Like yes, she's a cantankerous bitch. But you can't seriously pretend like she isn't also suffering in this relationship. The only difference is she turns her pain into external anger, where as Stolas has been turned into uwu soft bird who can do no wrong.
Even though he destroyed his family in an extremely public way. Octavia is going to have to live with the impact of her father's decisions for the rest of her life. You can't seriously expect me to feel bad for a man that is the agent of his own destruction.
You also can't tell me that Blitz just needs to get over himself just so he can be with a man who's father BOUGHT HIM FOR HIS SON AS A PRESENT.
To reiterate. If this was meant to be read as a terrible toxic arrangement that just keeps happening? I'm down for that. But this is not, and will never be cute or healthy.
Blitz doesn't owe Stolas anything. He keeps up his end of the bargain. It's purely sexual, and just because Stolas can't accept that doesn't make it Blitz's problem.
Stolas needs to learn how to accept rejection and move the fuck on. He knew he would catch feelings and considering he basically has Blitz on a leash, that doesn't make this any less gross.
The fact that he knows Blitz will leave if he's given the power to go to earth on his own proves it.
Blitz has frankly done very little IF ANYTHING to warrant being subjected to this level of obsession on Stolas' part. He's just trying to make a living.
Frankly, if you wanted us to actually think Blitz was interested, you've totally missed the boat with that one. This should have been worked on ages ago and it makes it feel exceptionally rushed and out of character on Blitz's part.
At this point I'm starting to think Fizz and Ozzie are a fluke of good writing in a sea of godsawful shit. Charlie and Vaggie felt like a literal afterthought in their own show. Husk and Angel are so rushed it felt like watching a relationship at double speed. Are we even supposed to think Pen and Cherry are actually a thing? Because if I was Cherry I would have punched Pen for that shit.
Christ. I don't drink but Viv makes me feel like starting.
Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.
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Would you ever consider writing the conversation Anthony had with Benedict in his bedchamber? When he scolded Ben for being alone with Y/N?
the author would like to share that upon reading your message, they immediately said, out loud, to no one but for herself to hear, "that is a BRILLIANT idea." she offers many thanks for your idea and your generosity in sharing it. <3
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i hate accidents: a drabble
femme!reader x benedict bridgerton, femme!reader & the bridgerton family, femme!reader & penelope featherington
summary: the adventures of a working class femme who befriends a fellow writer, a boisterous family, and a bewitching second eldest son
sections: I. the beginning / II. the between / III. the ball
y/n: bipoc, she/her, afab, nonbinary femme, queer, working class, of immigrant parents
content warnings: brief description of grief from losing a parent
word count: 623
author’s note: the character of y/n, whilst heavily talked about, does not appear in this drabble. the author hopes you enjoy these bickering brothers~
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anthony turns towards him, quiet fury simmering in his eyes.
"brother," begins benedict, "i—"
"have you lost your fucking mind!" booms anthony.
"if you just let me explain—"
"have you compromised y/n?"
"what!"
"i said! have you compromised y/n!"
"how can you even insinuate that! of course i have not!"
"and why should i trust what you say?"
"because i am your brother!"
"precisely! you are my brother! you lie to me as naturally as you breathe!"
that is something, benedict admits to himself, i cannot deny.
"well! i have no reason to lie now!" he declares aloud.
"and you expect me to believe that? when i saw your mouth and her mouth mere breaths away from one another?"
lightning shoots throughout benedict’s body and butterflies erupt in his stomach at the memory. the two of you were, indeed, mere breaths away from—— from—
"see," anthony interrupts, "you have nothing to say. are you finally admitting to your guilt?"
"we were discussing my art! that is all!"
"i am not a fool, benedict!"
"you look like one!"
"and you act like one! alone! in your bedchamber! with a lady! our friend! how do you think our family will react when they hear of your impropriety?"
"you make it sound as if this were some, some— devious scheme!"
anthony shakes his head.
"brother, i know you are in love with y/n—"
it would have been kinder if anthony shot him point blank in his chest.
benedict gapes at him, but his brother merely responds with an expression that makes him feel like a naive child.
"benedict, please. your affection for y/n is deeply apparent to everyone in this house. mother, kate, our siblings, the servants, penelope. good god, francesca, daph, and hastings even know, and they are not even here. you," anthony states simply, "are in love."
"i have not said anything of the sort!"
"so what do you mean to say? that you do not love y/n?"
benedict freezes. he feels the swell of his heart and its collapsing all in a mere breath.
of course i do. of course i love y/n.
he swallows.
"it matters not what i feel. it matters what she deserves."
y/n deserves someone good. someone who will not hurt her. someone who is not me.
anthony’s face softens, and it would be an expression that would be kind if benedict didn’t feel as though he was on the receiving end of its pity. still, it reassures him. anthony’s gentleness seemed to have passed when their father had. it seemed to no longer have existed as a possibility within him; and then kate entered their lives. whenever he sees evidence of its restoration, benedict cannot help but feel gratitude—even, as in this moment, at the cost of his own pain.
anthony sighs.
"did you two have to be in your bedchamber?"
benedict rolls his eyes.
"this is where all my art is! but it shan't happen again."
"oh, that i will make certain."
he furrows his eyebrows.
"what is that supposed to mean?"
"did you truly think i would let you get away with this indiscretion? you have completely disgraced y/n!"
"nothing! happened!"
"bedchamber! together! ALONE!" anthony checks his pocket watch and, with its closing, resumes a dignified composure. "i am done with this conversation. we have kept y/n waiting long enough. we must go to her promptly, offer our deepest apologies, and ensure that she is safe and well after this event. we will be most fortunate, indeed, if she chooses to absolve us from your transgression."
benedict puts his hands over his face. of all the people in the world, why did his elder brother have to be anthony bridgerton?
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#bridgerton#benedict bridgerton#anthony bridgerton#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton x you#benedict bridgerton x y/n#benedict bridgerton imagine#benedict bridgerton fluff#benedict bridgerton angst#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x you#bridgerton x y/n#penelope featherington#kate sharma#colin bridgerton#eloise bridgerton#gregory bridgerton#hyacinth bridgerton#violet bridgerton#replies
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