#not in like a bad way but in like in an anxiety for no reason way
Text
the final [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]
synopsis: y/n and harry reach the final in the academy slam
word count: 12.2k
contains: fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, tennis rivals, smut (oral f-receiving, first time for h and yn, size kink, mostly just soft), travel anxiety, brief medical talk
a/n: extremely sorry for the wait but i hope this is worth it. thank you for being here and reading this little series. it means the world and I'm obsessed with all of u <33
this is the final part of the game, read part 3 here
. . .
In any relationship, Y/N had always believed she was the dominant, reliable, independent partner. In all of her friendships, family dynamics and even teamwork, the people around her looked to her for something that sometimes she couldn’t even give. Y/N was constantly pulling pieces of herself apart to give to those around her and at the end of the day she found herself with nothing left for herself. She was constantly burnt out, running on little energy to make it through to the end of the week.
But with Harry, her whole world felt like a sanctuary, a blue sky hidden from everybody else by grey clouds.
When she thought she knew all there was to know about herself, she was learning so much more through her relationship.
She learnt that it was important to share things, that just because Harry could read her face better than most people doesn’t mean he could read her mind. She hadn’t realised how closed off she was about her problems until Harry had found her panicking outside her classroom before an exam. It was that moment when he told her he needed her to communicate these things so he could help her in any way he could.
She learnt to accept that her love language was physical touch. She couldn’t keep her hands off of her boyfriend. No matter what they were doing or where they were standing, she was desperate to touch Harry in some way and he was obsessed with it. He loved how much she wanted him to hold her and how often she’d gravitate towards him to put her hand on his arm or hook their pinkies together. It was probably the reason why her lips were constantly chapped because she was always desperate to kiss him whenever they were near each other. Harry had told her once that our love languages developed from what we didn’t receive so much of as children, which made sense because Y/N couldn’t remember the first or last time her parents had held her.
She learned that arguments were healthy, even when they didn't feel like it in the moment. Just because Harry was her boyfriend and their feelings for each other were strong, they still ended up bickering over little things. It usually happened when one of them was having a bad day; they were both people who felt things very strongly, and sometimes that clashed. But they made a promise that, no matter what they were arguing about, big or small, they'd never go to bed angry with each other.
The biggest lesson Y/N was learning was something that she had yet to come to terms with.
Having feelings for somebody was already a new thing for her, especially feelings as strong as the ones she had for Harry. She’d never been so attached to somebody in her whole life. Sometimes when she looked at him she felt like her heart was going to explode from how much it ached to be right by him. Y/N had always believed that she couldn’t feel much more than what she felt already, that this was how good it would get- and she was okay with that. But with every passing day, Y/N found herself floating higher and higher above ground as her heart began to inflate with such an intense emotion. Every morning, she felt like she was levitating right out of bed at the thought of seeing Harry.
It wasn’t until one particular day that she realised she was in love with her boyfriend.
She had woken up before him for once. Harry had always been an early bird, and so was she before him, but she loved staying in bed with him, basking in his warmth as he cradled her to him like he was cocooning her from the rest of the world and keeping her to himself for those brief few hours in the early morning.
She was going to wake him up to get ready for school but she stopped herself. Y/N had seen many versions of Harry her entire life but this was the first time when she looked at him and saw the person who had carved a nook into her heart for himself looking so peaceful and relaxed. She’d never really thought too hard into it before, willing to let herself fall into this relationship and see where she ended up, but that morning when she looked at him - really looked at him- she realised there was only one person in this entire world who could make her feel like she was still dreaming and that was the person she loved.
Of course, she hadn’t told him that. Never. Y/N felt genuine fear at the thought of having to tell him how she felt because everything she had ever truly loved she’d had to either work for or it had never loved her back as much. Surely loving someone as much as she loved Harry couldn’t be this easy.
“Hey,” Sarah beamed, leaning against the lockers as Y/N replaced her books for her next classes.
“Hey,” Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as she glanced at her shirt, “What are you wearing?”
“Do you like them?” Sarah grinned, proudly.
It was a white t-shirt with a tennis racket and a cut out of Y/N’s head plastered onto a tennis ball. The words ‘Y/N 4 court queen’ were written in red.
“Please tell me you only got one of these?” Y/N begged, feeling embarrassed.
“Well they’re prototypes so there’s only four,” Sarah explained and as she did Mitch walked towards them wearing the exact same shirt.
He put a hand around Sarah’s shoulders and kissed the side of her head before looking at Y/N, “How do you like the shirts? Me and Sarah spent all week designing them?”
“You designed these together? Aren’t you meant to be like horny teenagers or something?” Y/N tried not to laugh at their matching shirts as they stood side by side.
“We can be both,” Mitch shrugs.
“Who else is wearing these?” A throat cleared from behind them and Y/N turned around to find her boyfriend wearing his white school shirt unbuttoned to reveal the same t-shirt underneath.
“Hi baby,” Harry grinned, walking towards her and kissing her lips. Y/N’s hands went to his waist as he pushed her up against the lockers.
“And I thought we were bad,” Mitch said, “C’mon babe, I’ve got a few ideas for some more items we could sell.”
Harry pulled away as Mitch and Sarah walked away. Y/N looked up at him as he loomed over her, he was just so goddamn tall. “Missed you,” He murmured, kissing her quickly.
“You saw me this morning,” Y/N giggled.
“Hmmm,” He hooked his finger around her necklace and pulled her closer, “Do y’ like my shirt?”
Y/N laughed, “I can’t believe you actually wore it.”
“Anything to support my girlfriend,” He winks. She’d never get tired of hearing him call her that. “Did you hear anything about the Academy?”
Y/N shook her head. After winning against Astrid, she was now onto the final where she would play Courtney Avalon the only girl in the competition who had been picked to compete in a Junior Slam at fourteen. Y/N wondered who thought it fair for her to compete but she wouldn’t let it ruin her chances of winning, she’d just train even harder than she already was.
Unlike the previous games, the final wouldn’t be hosted at one of the academies instead it would be hosted elsewhere at a tennis club where professionals would play. There was no way of knowing where they’d be going, it could be in a different country for all they knew, but the final was a little under a month away and she still hadn’t heard anything about it.
“S okay,” Harry knew she was overthinking the situation as he traced his thumb over her pulse the way he always did when she was nervous about something, “We just train the way we always have,”
“Do you think I’ll win?” Y/N asked.
“I know you will,” Harry replied.
That same afternoon, Y/N was sitting in the library after school to finish her English essay on her computer when a notification appeared in her email. Her heartbeat hastened as she clicked on the email with ‘Academy Slam Final Location’ written in big bold letters as the subject headline.
She clicked on it and her eyes flicked through the long-winded introduction before they landed on the location.
Paris, France.
She was going to Paris.
With Harry.
She tried to keep her excitement at bay as she threw all her belongings into her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. She made a quick exit out of the library and ran towards the parking lot where she knew Harry would be.
Her eyes landed on him and she couldn’t help but laugh before running over to him and leaping into his open arms. “Paris,” She said and his eyes lit up.
“We’re going to Paris?” Harry asked, seeking confirmation.
Y/N nodded, “The same place they play the French Open.”
Realisation dawned on both of their faces as they understood the significance of this moment. Y/N would be playing at the same club where Harry was supposed to play before his injury. She waited to see his reaction, and a small grin formed on his face before he leaned in to kiss her.
“You are going to win this,” He says like a promise.
She nods, the weight of the moment sinking in deeper. The pressure now felt even greater than before, driven by a desire to win not just for herself, but for Harry too.
. . .
Y/N sat on the bonnet of her boyfriend’s Audi with her boyfriend standing between her dangling legs as they made out, “Are you actually going to teach me anything?” Y/N laughed, pushing him away.
Harry pretended to check the invisible watch on his wrist before shrugging, “We have time,” He leaned in to kiss her again but she playfully pushed his face away and slid off the bonnet.
They walked hand in hand to the court where Y/N put her bag down on the ground and pulled out her racket. Her eyes caught sight of Harry taking a bucket of tennis balls out of the storage shed. He looked particularly cosy today in his navy sweater and white shorts he was wearing, his hair was a little dishevelled mainly due to the fact that she had run her fingers through them for the past thirty minutes.
“Okay, so should we do a few drills?” Harry posed the question.
Y/N shook her head, “I wanna try something different today,” Harry frowned as she passed him a racket, “I want to play against you.”
She could tell Harry seemed unsettled as soon as the words left her mouth, “Y/N, you already know about my injury,”
“Just a little back and forth, if it hurts too much we can stop straight away,” She tried, hoping he would say yes.
Harry took one look at his girlfriend, seeing the pleading look on her face. Even though he knew she wasn’t forcing him, he couldn’t find it in himself to say no. “Fine, one game.”
Y/N squealed and ran to the end of the court she always played on, getting into position. She watched as Harry rolled his ankles and bounced up and down to get used to the feeling of his feet on the court. He took a tennis ball out of his pocket and bounced it on the ground.
With a playful chuckle, Harry tossed the ball into the air and served. Y/N lunged for it, returning it with a swift swing of her racket. The rally began, and each shot was met with cheers and laughter from them both.
Despite Harry's injury, he moved across the court with surprising agility, his competitive spirit shining through. Y/N knew he was at a disadvantage but still, she was in awe of how quickly he responded to her hits. Every time Harry would run for the ball, she’d find herself distracted by the muscles in his calves and thighs and the concentration on his face when the ball would go to her end of the court.
In the end, Y/N came out on top with one score above Harry’s when they decided on the last round as Harry could tell the pain was beginning to stir in his leg. She walked over to him and put out his hand to shake his, “Great game,”
Harry rolled his eyes, taking her hand and pulling her into him, “You’re too pretty, you distracted me.”
“I’ve heard that one too many times before,” Y/N smirked.
“From who?” Harry frowned.
“Oh just people,” She began to walk away but Harry quickly ran up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and spinning her around.
“Harry,” Y/N laughed, loudly, both of them ignoring the watchful eyes of passing students leaving school late.
He placed her back down on the ground and she looked up at him again, biting her lip, “Get back to those drills,” He shook his head.
“Yes sir,” She saluted but Harry stilled.
“I didn’t know you were into that,”
“What?” Y/N frowned before realising, “Ew don’t be so gross Harry,” She hit him on the arm and stormed away.
“What else am I supposed to think?” Harry threw his arms up in the air, biting back a laugh. She turned around and threw a tennis ball at him before grabbing another one and doing the same again, “Oh c’mon baby, I can live out your coach/student fantasies if that’s what you're asking,”
“You’re an animal!” She hissed.
Harry laughed and jogged towards her, kissing her quickly and running through their usual training.
. . .
Two weeks had passed until Y/N and Harry were finally on their way to Paris. Mitch and Sarah had dropped them off at the airport in the early hours of the morning with sleep still in their eyes. Y/N would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t nervous about playing without her best friend cheering for her in the stands. But Sarah promised she would watch every second of the live stream from their dorm room and cheer her on from there.
She’d also tried to call and text her parents to tell them she had made it to the final and she’d be going to Paris, inviting them to come along even though she already knew they would decide not to. She hadn’t spoken to them since the dinner and even though she was the happiest she’d ever been, part of her ached, wishing her parents cared enough to see her that way.
Harry stood beside her as they waited in line to board the aeroplane. They had originally booked economy flights but Harry was insistent they upgrade even though the flight was only an hour long.
They were both dressed rather comfortably for the flight. It was Y/N’s first time wearing a piece of his clothing, a brown knitted sweatshirt he offered her to wear this morning. She couldn’t deny the rush of excitement she felt when he tugged it over her head and kissed her forehead, “Pretty,” He said and smiled.
But despite their comfy attire, Y/N couldn’t seem to stop fiddling with Harry’s fingers as they stood in line. She was nervous, biting the inside of her cheek and trying to ignore the sounds of the planes taking off outside. It was her first time flying and even though she was excited about going away to Paris, she hadn’t considered the prospect of flying and how nerve-wracking it would be.
“Harry,” Y/N tugged on his sleeve, looking up at him. He was holding both of their carry-ons, his black bag in his hand and her duffle on his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, sensing her nerves.
“Will we be okay?” She blushes, feeling embarrassed at her question, “On the plane I mean?”
Harry’s eyes soften, “Of course,” He assures, “It’s the safest way to travel.”
“Okay,” She nods, before saying his name again, “Harry?”
“Yes baby?”
“You promise we’ll be okay?”
He smiles, putting their bags on the floor and taking both of her hands in his. He squeezes her fingers when he feels how cold they are, “Promise, promise.”
“Okay well if you’re lying I’ll probably never speak to you again.”
Harry chuckles, “I mean if I’m lying and the plan crashes then that’s probably true.”
Y/N frowns, “Don’t talk about crashing,”
“What? You bought it up.”
When they finally board the plane, Y/N immediately feels claustrophobic when she realises how small it is, “They’re loading us into a sardine can,” She mutters to herself and hears Harry laugh as he walks in front of her.
They finally reach their seats with Y/N right by the window and Harry in the seat next to her. Harry places their bags under the seats in front and moves to buckle his belt. “Harry?” Y/N says his name again. He glances at her and sees how pale her face is, “I’m really nervous.”
He felt his heart clench, it wasn’t often that Y/N admitted to feeling nervous or afraid of something. Hearing the shake in her voice made him consider getting off the plane and taking her back home again.
“Hey,” Harry cupped the side of her cheek, “Y’ got nothing to be afraid of sweet girl, everything’s gonna be fine. Might feel a little strange when the plane takes off but we’re safe and I’m right here with you.”
“I don’t know about this Harry,” Her eyes dart around and he knows she’s getting into a panic the more she thinks about it too much.
“Y/N,” Harry says her name gently, “Look at me baby,” His thumb rubs the skin under her eye and her eyes dart to him, “Can you feel this?” He gently wraps his fingers around her wrist and moves her hand to wrap around his own wrist until the pads of her fingers find his pulse.
Y/N nods, her eyes glistening, “Can you feel that?” He hopes the feel of his pulse will calm her down, “That’s it, just breathe and calm down everything’s gonna be fine.”
“It’s going to be fine,” She echoes his words as though trying to inscribe them into her own mind.
“M right here,” He comforts her, “You think I’d let anything happen to you after I just got you?”
Y/N smiles at that, “No,” She whispers, “You’re too stubborn.”
Harry grins, “Only when it comes to you.”
Y/N’s nerves were overwhelming as the plane began to move. She glanced out the window, watching the ground blur as they gained speed. Harry noticed her unease and reached for her hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
“What the fuck!” Y/N blurted when the plane lifted off the ground, loud enough for everyone to hear, “This is so not normal.”
Harry snorted a laugh, “Y’ doing just fine baby,” He rubbed soothing circles on the back of her hand.
Y/N’s eyes squeezed shut as the plane tilted, a whimper escaping past her lips when she took one peek out the window to see the clouds in the sky. “Isn’t it pretty?” Harry asked, ignoring how tightly she was squeezing his fingers until the point of turning blue.
“It’s a lot prettier with my feet on the ground,” Y/N responds, refusing to relax until the plane landed.
. . .
Y/N was in awe as they stood in the hotel lobby of the hotel they would be staying in for the next week or so. Harry had insisted he be in charge of choosing where they were staying as he had been to Paris plenty of times and knew all the best spots. Y/N didn’t argue with him, it gave her one less thing to stress about and she was never any good at making decisions anyway.
The receptionist handed him two key cards and Harry rolled both of their suitcases into the elevator as Y/N followed closely behind. “Are our rooms next to each other?” Y/N wondered, admiring the lights in the elevator as they went up to the seventh floor.
Harry’s eyes widened for a second but then they twinkled with mischief. She noticed him biting the inside of his cheek like he was trying not to laugh. “Is that what you want two rooms?” He asked and Y/N’s cheeks flushed.
“W-well I d-didn’t want to assume,” She stuttered, feeling embarrassed.
Harry handed her both room keys, “Room 764,” He motioned her out of the elevator when it reached their floor and she walked ahead, scanning the numbers on the doors as she did.
Eventually, she got to room 764 and stopped. Harry was still rounding the corner with both of their suitcases so she waved the key over the scanner and saw the light turn green but instead of opening the door, she waited for it to lock again. Switching to the other key, she repeated the action of waving it over the lock only to see it flash green again.
This time she did walk through the door, putting both their bags on the ground as soon as she stepped inside. Her mouth fell open when she saw the room they’d be staying in.
Y/N had stayed in fancy hotels before thanks to her parents but this was something she had never seen before in her life. It had a high ceiling and a chandelier hanging in the middle. White curtains hung from the windows with a view of Paris right outside their window. She walked into the bathroom to see marble countertops and a deep bathtub with a separate glass-enclosed shower.
After taking everything in, she walked back into the bedroom where her eyes landed on the king-sized bed - one bed for two people.
The sight of it made Y/N’s mouth dry. It was her first time sharing a space with any boy, let alone her boyfriend, for longer than one night. Although she’d been spending a lot of time together, this was the first time Y/N would be sleeping beside him, waking up next to him, and getting ready with him. In fact, this whole trip they were all each other had.
“Do you like it?” Harry came up behind her and squeezed her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck.
Y/N spun round and clung to him, “Thank you,” She whispered, hoping he couldn’t feel the nerves radiating from her.
“I was thinking we go out and get something to eat and then maybe walk by the river. We’ll be training for the next few days so,” She sighed, longing to just stay in the room with him holding her the entire time.
“I’d like that,” She sighs, eyes closing.
Harry chuckles lowly, she feels the vibrations from his chest, “Y sure?”
“Mhm,”
Harry smiles even though she can’t see, “Or we can order room service and stay here?”
Y/N seems to melt against him as he rubs circles on her back, “I like that idea a lot more.”
She was pretty sure Harry had ordered everything off the menu in the time it took her to unpack her suitcase. She smiled to herself when she saw their shoes side by side at the door when she went to put her trainers beside them.
It wasn’t long before hours passed and Y/N was wrapped up in a plush, white bathrobe with Harry’s shirt and her pyjama shirt on underneath. A cart with empty plates of what once was full of an array of desserts and sides was cast off to one side as Y/N lay on top of Harry with a full belly. The TV played lowly in the back, Harry's hands playing with the ends of her long, loose hair. The sky had turned dark with the lights of Paris lighting the city.
“Y’ sleepy baby?” Harry murmured, cupping her cheek and lifting her head like she was a little kitten so he could see her face.
Y/N hummed, nuzzling her cheek against his hand and curling into his side. Her hand slid up his torso to fiddle with the cross necklace around her neck. “Go to sleep,” He kisses the top of her head, “Got a long day tomorrow.”
Tomorrow they’d be off to the tennis club to train for the final at the end of the week. Harry had picked a hotel that was a ten-minute drive away just in case they ended up spending long hours into the night working on Y/N’s technique like they did when they were at Crestwood.
Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as Harry rubbed soothing circles on her hip to try and lull her to sleep. The outside world seemed irrelevant in that moment, he felt as though he could lay there forever in this comforting bubble they had created together.
“Goodnight Harry,” Y/N mumbled, clutching his t-shirt.
“Goodnight baby,” He whispered, feeling the happiest he had ever been.
. . .
“Somebody pinch me, I feel like I’m dreaming,” Y/N gaped as they walked through the tennis club. She felt Harry pinch the skin above her elbow, “Not literally,” She huffed.
After a blissful night's sleep, Y/N awoke to her face buried in the crook of Harry’s neck as both of his arms held her tightly to him throughout the night. Sleep had always been Y/N’s worst enemy but she genuinely considered calling off today and just laying there with him.
They booked a cab before getting ready which would take them to the tennis club. They had planned a morning session of training so they could spend the remainder of the afternoon exploring Paris properly this time instead of looking out the window of the back of a taxi or from their hotel room where they had spent yesterday afternoon lounging around.
Harry smirked, “You haven’t even seen the best part yet,” He leads her to a big glass window in the lobby.
Y/N immediately gasps, pressing her nose against the glass wanting it to disappear so she could walk straight through it and across to the Roland Garros which just so happened to be right next door.
“I’m going to be there one day Harry,” Y/N says with the upmost determination in her voice.
Harry nods in agreement, “You will,” He says and that makes her believe it even more.
They walk hand in hand to the courts, Y/N in a white tennis dress and matching visor and Harry wearing a white polo shirt and white shorts. They were both wearing black sunglasses to cover their eyes, Harry snaked his arm around her shoulders, Y/N’s fingers automatically threading through his, as they walked outside.
They seemed to pause at the same time when they saw one of the courts already occupied. The sound of the ball speeding through the air and hitting the racket of the girl running to hit it in time broke through the air.
Y/N watched as the girl moved with such agility and force, meeting every hit made by her coach with her own. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, no one she had ever played against.
With one final hit across, the ball landed somewhere past her opponent and the game ended. The girl grabbed a towel and wiped it across her forehead, smiling as she took a waterbottle from the cooler. Her head raised, Y/N’s eyes casting away in hopes she wouldn’t come over but it was too late and she was already walking towards them.
Harry gave Y/N’s hand a gentle squeeze as if to say "be nice," already familiar with her temper. However, she had put up a guard, uncertain whether to trust this girl or not.
“Hi,” She said, “I’m Courtney,” She held a hand out to which Y/N slowly responded, “You must be Y/N, I’ve been watching your games. You’re good.”
Y/N felt her jaw tick at the tone she used in trying to compliment her like she didn’t think she was a good player at all but she was trying to be nice about it.
“Thank you,” Y/N decided to not act out and instead remained civil.
Courtney flashed a pearly white grin, “Yes well my coach thought this whole Academy competition would be good training for the Junior Slam next year. It’s not often something I would participate in but no one can deny the glory of winning something no matter how easy it is.”
Y/N forced a smile, “You’re right, it seems every game just gets easier and easier. I’m sure this next one will be a walk in the park.”
Courtney smirked, her eyes drifting up to see Harry, “Harry,” She acknowledged, “I haven’t seen you since your injury? How is it?”
“Good,” Harry nodded, “Besides the fact I can’t play anymore, I’d say it’s going pretty well.”
Courtney’s smirk deepens, “Is that why you’re doing this? Since you can’t play you’ve got a little pitbull to carry the torch for you.”
Y/N’s fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms, “You know, I’ve been watching you too Courtney.”
Courtney’s expression turned smug as she crossed her arms, “Oh really?”
Y/N nodded, her eyes narrowing as she looked at her nose like she was inspecting it, “Your nose is looking a little crooked after last season. My mother knows a doctor who can fix that if you want their number?”
Courtney scowled and spun on her heel to storm away from them after being reminded of her embarrassing moment from last season where she hit herself in the face with her tennis racket and broke her nose.
Harry chuckled from beside her, “I’m sorry, I know I’m not meant to but she pissed me off when she started talking about your injury like that.”
“It’s okay, if I didn’t think you had it covered I would have said something myself.” Harry began to walk to their side of the courts, “Now c’mon my little pitbull, let’s get to work.”
Y/N scowled at his choice of words but followed him anyway.
. . .
Throughout the entire week whenever they weren’t training - which was less often than they had hoped for but also the reason they were here in the first place - Y/N and Harry spent their evenings exploring the city.
Y/N was thankful Harry had been to Paris plenty of times before, enough to show her around and take her to some of his favourite spots.
Together they went to Harry’s favourite cafe each morning to pick up croissants and pastries to eat outside on the little tables and chairs. They visited the Eiffel Tower where they attempted to take photographs of each other holding it in the palms of their hands. They walked over to the Louvre where Harry paid for them to have a private tour in the evening and they would spend most of their evenings walking hand in hand as they strolled along the Seine.
This must be what being a kid feels like. Y/N thought to herself as Harry lay in between her legs as they sat on the grass right in front of the Eiffel Tower. He was reading a book he had bought from a small, indie bookstore they had come across as they walked through the streets.
Everything in her life had always been meticulously planned or she had to work hard for it, even at the age of eighteen. Both Y/N and Harry had been made to grow up quickly because their parents had raised them that way but together it felt like they had regressed back into their simplest forms. Life felt easy and colourful and magical. Each day, Y/N felt like her heart was shedding hardened skin and was slowly turning into this beautiful ball of light that weighed hardly anything inside of her chest.
She paused her train of thought when she felt Harry’s lips press a kiss to her arm, “Let’s go out to dinner tonight,” He murmured.
Tomorrow was the final and Y/N had been a nervous wreck all day hence why they had attempted to do things that might help her relax. Harry had woken her up with breakfast already carried in by one of the housekeepers and had offered to take her to the spa in the hotel but Y/N was desperate to escape the indoors and go outside so they ended up walking through the streets and stumbling into different shops on multiple street corners. Harry had even bought a baguette to put in his tote bag that they had been nibbling on all day.
“I don’t know if I can handle eating right now,” Y/N admitted, the nerves getting the best of her.
Harry shifted and turned around so he was lying on his stomach, his chin resting on her belly, “You’ll regret it if you don’t eat baby,” He kissed her exposed stomach from where her shirt had risen, “Even if it’s just a little something, y’ can’t go to bed hungry.”
Y/N knew he was right which is how they ended up in one of the fanciest restaurants Harry could have possibly picked from the many Paris had to offer with two plates of pasta and a shared basket of garlic bread between them.
At one point, midway through making her laugh, Harry pulled out his phone to quickly take her picture. Y/N's cheeks tinged pink as she asked, "What did you do that for?"
Harry bit back a grin, “Because you’re my girlfriend and sometimes I take photos of you to make sure this is real,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “What? Do you want to see the whole album I’ve made for you too?”
“A whole album? Ew weirdo,” She teased.
“Not a weirdo, ‘m just obsessed with you,” He says, “Wait until you’ve seen all the playlists I’ve made over the years I’ve been pining for you behind closed doors.”
Y/N’s lips part, “You’re lying,”
“I’m not, I swear,” Harry chuckles, “Remember that box of chocolates you found in your cubby in fifth year on Valentine’s Day?”
“That was not you,” Y/N refused to believe it, “Sarah and I sat in the park after school eating them on the swings after she broke up with Byron.”
“It was,” Harry nodded, his cheeks turning rosy but he carried on, “The day you asked me to teach you to play tennis I felt like I was floating on a cloud at the big old age of eight.”
“But you said no,”
“Yeah because I figured you’d never leave me alone until I did and low and behold here we are today.” He says like he’s been planning this exact moment in time all his teenage life.
“Ah so you’ve been scheming ever since,” Y/N joked.
Harry shrugged, “I may have put things into motion but I think you were always meant to be a part of my life, Y/N.”
Y/N’s heart warmed like he was holding a candle beneath it, “I don’t think I remember anything good that you weren’t a part of.”
He reached for her hand across the table and kissed the inside of her wrist, “You are my good.”
. . .
Harry leaned against the doorframe of the hotel bathroom as he brushed his teeth whilst Y/N lay on the bed in just a towel and underwear having just finished showering. Both their gazes were fixed on the television with re-runs of previous tennis matches playing with the volume down.
Harry’s eyes softened when they looked at Y/N who watched the TV with so much awe on her face. He felt a sense of pride wash over him for both his girlfriend and for himself. After his injury, he thought himself damned and that nothing would give him the rush of playing tennis against big names like he did before but now he had Y/N and life before today seemed non-existent - maybe he hadn’t really been living at all.
He spat out his toothpaste and turned the bathroom light off. He stopped in the doorway in just his boxers when Y/N switched the TV off and there was nothing but the soft, warm glow of the lamp lighting the room.
Her eyes looked up at him, vulnerability shining from them, “If I lose tomorrow will you still look at me the same?” She asked.
Harry frowned, “What do you mean?”
She sighed heavily, sitting up and pulling the towel closer to her to hide her naked chest, “Will you still like me?”
Harry’s eyes softened. It wasn’t often she shared such a vulnerable side with people so whenever he got a glimpse of it, he felt himself spiralling out of control like he was completely at her mercy, “No,” He starts and walks towards her squatting down before the bed and reaching a hand out to hold her cheek, his thumb smoothing over her cheekbones, “But I’ll love you a little harder than I do right now,”
A breath escaped from Y/N’s lips as they parted, her heart pounding, “What?” She breathed.
Harry’s lips curved, “I love you.”
She still couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing, “You do?”
Harry said nothing other than a small nod as he waited for her to respond, “I love you too,” She whispered, her eyes glistening, “More than anything in this world.”
Harry didn’t need to hear anything else as he surged forward to kiss her, his bottom lip sliding between hers. Y/N held his face in her hands as she kissed him as hard as she could whilst he crawled onto the bed.
She fell back, feeling the soft sheets beneath her as Harry held himself up above her. The towel around her had loosened her pulse racing as she realised what was happening. “We don’t have to-” Harry started but Y/N kissed him quickly to shut him up.
“I want to,” She murmured against his lips.
Harry nodded, his curls falling around his face as his cheeks tinged pink, “I-I can’t promise I’ll be good,” Y/N immediately shook her head, pushing his curls back and looking him straight in the eye.
“I love you, Harry,” She saw the way his eyes twinkled as she spoke those words, “Whatever we do will be perfect because it’s with you and nobody else. Just us.”
Harry smiles, “The way it’s always been. You and me,”
Y/N mirrors his smile before kissing him again, running her hands up and down his back with nothing but the sound of their lips connecting and their heavy exhales filling the silence of the room.
As Harry kissed down her neck, Y/N felt her nerves escalating as an idea formed in her mind. The towel around her was the only barrier preventing their skin from touching, and she yearned to feel the warmth of his bare chest against hers.
Before getting lost in a spiral of self-doubt, Y/N loosened her grip on the towel. Harry paused his assault on her neck and they both froze, “Holy shit,” Harry whispered maybe to himelf but she wasn’t quite sure, “Okay give me a second,” His eyes squeezed shut and Y/N waited.
Suddenly, Harry’s head glimpsed down at her naked form lying beneath him. The only piece of fabric left on her was a pair of red, lace panties, “Fuck,” Harry cursed, “This isn’t real, pinch me so I can wake up,”
“Harry,” Y/N laughed.
“I’m sorry baby but you’re just gonna have to give me a moment because- Holy shit.” He exclaimed, “This is way better than I imagined,” He muttered, loud enough for her to hear.
Harry was in awe of the girl that lay beneath him, every curve of her body and inch of her soft skin looked as thought it was sculpted by tender hands. His hands gripped the bottoms of her thighs and he felt the hard muscle from months and months of playing tennis and yet, despite all that, her skin was still so damn soft.
Harry couldn’t think up enough words to praise the temple that was her body so he sealed his lips with hers, his tongue darting out filled with lust and need. His fingers slid up her thigh to grip her ass and when his hips rolled against hers she felt him - all of him.
Y/N let out a moan as he kissed down her body, he pulled her into him until her breasts were pressed against his chest. Her arms looped around his neck, her fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.
Y/N hummed, her eyes fluttering shut, as Harry kissed and touched every inch of skin. She felt like all the heavy parts of her were being taken out of her body and only her heart remained. He cupped her breasts in his hand and squeezed, her nipples hardening despite the warmth of his touch. She felt like dough, fluffy and light, and no matter what he did to her they would somehow mould together perfectly.
She felt Harry’s thumb hook the waistband of her panties when he kissed the inside of her thigh, “Harry,” Y/N gasped. It seemed to be the only word she had left inside of her empty head.
“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, his green eyes peering up at her.
“No,” She said, too quickly, “You can do anything y’ want to me.” She trusted him that much.
Harry shuddered at her words, his heart expanding three sizes inside of his chest. He didn’t think it was possible to feel this way about somebody, to feel like all his calloused skin was peeling off of his body and now he was someone completely new.
With shaky hands, he removed Y/N’s underwear, seeing the way her chest rose and fell. His hands gently pushed her plush thighs apart, “Fuck baby,” He groaned.
“Please Harry,” Y/N mewled, her hips wriggling in hopes the action would propel him to do something.
“Calm down lovie, jus’ admiring how pretty y’ are,” He smirks, his thumb trailing up her slit until it reached her clit. He stopped, hearing her weighted breaths before he began to rub it in slow, teasing circles. He caught the stutter in her breath, watching when her hands fisted the blanket.
Without warning, Y/N feels his warm, wet tongue run between her folds. The sensation feels foreign but she’s overcome by intense pleasure as he begins lapping her through her folds. She feels her lungs deflate as the air escapes her, unable to breathe when he teases her clenching open. Her toes curl as his other hand travels to her hip to hold her down and nuzzle his face harder against her.
Hearing her whines and feeling her writing beneath him, Harry feels his cock throbbing in his boxers, he could feel the damp fabric against his skin as he pressed himself into the mattress with his head still in between her thighs.
“So good,” Y/N babbles, her body shivering when she felt the coil begin to tighten in the pit of her belly, “So, so good Harry.”
Before she could find her release, Harry pulled away his chin glistening with her juices. Y/N’s hands grapple for him but she can barely reach him and feels too floaty to try any harder. Harry’s hair is a mess as he crawls up her bare body and kisses her. She tastes herself on his tongue when they brush against each other, “I need to be inside of you,” He slurs against her lips, “I need you so bad Y/N, I think I’ll go crazy if I don’t.”
Harry’s head hangs, his curls falling in front of his face. Y/N automatically pushes them back, her hips rolling against his. She can feel the damp spot against his boxers despite her own wetness covering her thighs, “I’m on birth control,” She tells him.
Harry groans, his forehead pressing against her collarbones, “Of course you are,” He says, “Always so fucking prepared, aren’t you?” He drawls, “My best girl,”
Y/N’s heart flips and spins at his words, but the reality of the situation sets in when she feels him removing his boxers. She gasps as she feels his hardened length against the inside of her thigh. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but Harry was big; she had no clue whether it was normal for someone to be as thick as he was, and she wondered how she was meant to fit it all inside of her.
“Is this okay?” He murmurs and Y/N nods, “I feel like we should high-five or something,”
Y/N can’t help but laugh, “What?”
“Well we’re both virgins about to lose our virginity, shouldn’t we like boost morale or something?” He jokes and Y/N laughs so hard her cheeks ache.
After they both settle, Harry kisses her quickly as he lines his cock up to her pussy, “Harry?” He hums a reponse, “It’ll fit right?”
Harry groaned, his mind still picturing her small, wet glistening pussy that he had just had his first taste of, “Yes baby, it’s your first time so it’ll hurt a little but if you want to stop we’ll stop and if you say go we’ll go and if you want me to leave you alone for ten minutes, I’ll leave for five. Whatever you want.”
“Okay,” She nods, fully determined, “I love you,”
Harry’s eyes soften, “I love you too, lovie.”
Y/N smiles, “I like that name,”
“Yeah?” Harry’s lips curve.
“Yeah,” Y/N loops her arms around his neck and tries her best to relax when she feels the tip of his cock brush through her folds.
Harry kisses her forehead, “Take a deep breath,” He says and as she does, she feels him push his hips down and his tip gently ease into her. She gasps, feeling her pussy throb as he moves achingly slow, inch by inch inside of her. A thin layer of sweat covers Harry’s forehead, his jaw clenching as he feels her walls squeezing him tightly.
She feels a sting of pain as his thick length pushes through her, her pussy stretching to accommodate his size.
“Baby,” He murmurs, the tip of his nose brushing over her cheek, “If you keep clenching around me I’m gonna cum before I’m all the way inside of you.”
Y/N’s eyes widened, “You’re not all the way in yet?”
Harry cringed, “M sorry, do you want to stop?”
Y/N immediately shook her head, pulling him closer to her, “Keep going,” She whispered despite the fact she was wondering if she even had enough room to fit him inside of her when she already felt so full.
Harry eased into her a little quicker this time, kissing her soothingly and whispering sweet, encouraging nothings into her ear. He even began to rub his thumb against her clit in hopes it would ease some of her discomfort.
Eventually, he found himself all the way, deep inside of her, her walls squeezing him tightly with his hips pressed against her own. “Are you okay?” He murmured.
“Mhm,” Y/N could barely keep her eyes open from how blissful she felt. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, her entire body was just full up of him in ever sense of the word, “Can we stay like this for a moment,”
He kissed her shoulder and along her collarbones, “Whatever you want lovie, doing so well,”
Although he was trying to remain calm for her, Harry couldn’t believe he was buried deep inside of the girl he had loved for so long. He couldn’t feel any part of his body apart from where they were both connected, slotted together so perfectly like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
Her hair splayed out around her on the pillow, her lips were plushy and swollen, and her cheeks were red, the colour of two, crisp apples picked right off a tree. She was a dream, the love of his life.
“Okay,” She murmured, “Y’ can move now.”
“Are you sure?” He would hate himself if he caused her any more pain but she nodded.
A hiss escaped her lips as Harry began to slowly move out of her. He paused, “I just need to get used to it is all,” She assured.
Harry nods, waiting for her to tell him to move again and when she does, he moves gently out of her before carefully thrusting back into her again. Now that she was getting used to the feeling of him inside of her, Y/N could feel the ridges and veins of his cock brush her walls, the tip of his cock pressing into her g-spot as he moved inside of her.
“God Harry,” Y/N whines.
“You’re m’ dream girl,” Harry slurs, biting his lip when he takes in how tight she is as she clenches around him. He grabs one of the hands still placed around his neck and kisses her wrist. He intertwines their fingers and settles their hands beside her head needing to feel her touch, “M’ best girl, I love y’ so much.” He whispers.
“Love you,” She sighs, her eyes fluttering shut as he thrusts over and over again, each one more perfect than the last.
“Y’ pussy is so perfect baby, made for each other, aren’t we? Hmm? Y’ my perfect, dream girl.” He groans, his head falling forward.
Harry pulled his hand away from hers to smear his thumb over her clit. Y/N whimpers and writhes beneath him at the added pleasure, “Faster,” She whispers, “Please.”
Harry presses messy kisses along her jawline, “Don’t have to beg baby,” He hastens his rhythmic thrusts, their moans filling the air.
“Can feel y’ clenching baby?” Harry seemed to already have an idea of when Y/N was about to cum from the way her body shivered beneath him, “Y’ gonna cum?”
“Yes Harry,” She gasps, “Please Harry, it feels so good,” Her eyes pinched with tears at the overwhelming pleasure that filled every part of her.
“Cum round my cock baby, make a mess hmm, need y’ to cum so I can cum too yeah?” He was almost pleading, words tumbling from his mouth as his thrusts began to speed up the closer he got to his release.
Y/N could feel that same coil begin to tighten in her belly, she could see her vision start to blur and all her muscles tighten until it snapped and her back arched into him. He swooped one arm beneath her, pulling her into him and burying his face into her neck as he groaned into her, “Fuck,” He heaved, releasing into her.
Y/N could barely get any words out as he collapsed on top of her. Her eyes were fixated on the ceiling, her lips parting with small puffs of air escaping her. She felt like she was floating, levitating off the bed and leaving her body behind, “Y’ okay baby,” Harry murmured, kissing her cheek, “Come down for me yeah?” He presses a hand to her forehead.
“Harry,” She whimpers, the first word to leave her lips after coming down from her high. She loops her arms around him and he scoops her up into his.
“You did such a good job, m’love,” He coos, moving her matted hair out of her forehead and admiring how beautiful she looked under the soft light of the lampshade.
“Was so perfect,” She whispers, meeting his soft, green eyes and lifting a hand to brush his hair out of his face.
“Yeah?” He smiled, holding her to him like she was something so fragile he was afraid he might break her.
“Mhm,” She hums, curling into him. “I love you,” She kissed his chest and felt his heart thudding against her hand.
“I’ve loved you for a long time,” Harry replied.
They lay tangled together amongst the sheets, waiting to float back down into their bodies but basking in every second they had in that moment where their hearts were the same.
. . .
Y/N lay in bed that same night with Harry’s t-shirt now covering her bare form. Harry laughed as he re-entered the bedroom having just taken his second shower of the evening.
She was watching a tennis match on the TV again.
“You’re watching tennis?” He smiled, falling on the bed beside her, clad only in his boxers. “Is this your version of cigarettes after sex?”
Y/N grins, “What can I say? It’s my addiction.”
He reaches for her hand and mindlessly plays with her fingers but his ears prick when he hears his name from one of the commentators, “This is my game from last year,” Harry speaks, seeing his face appear on the screen.
They watched as Harry walked onto the court exuding confidence as he shook hands with his opponent before the match started. He then pointed his racket at the middle of the stands where the audience was watching.
“Why do you do that?” Y/N wonders, “Before every game, you’d always point your racket at the middle of the audience.”
“Every game?” Harry poked her side.
Y/N rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I’ve watched every single one of your games so what?”
Harry smiled, kissing her bare shoulder and answering, “Because you used to sit there.”
Y/N stilled turning her head to look at him, “What?”
“Whenever I would play at any of my tennis matches, I always looked out for you in the crowd and I’d always find you sitting right in the middle of the bleachers to watch. Eventually, it just became a thing, before I even set foot onto the court, I’d find you sitting in the exact same spot with the exact same expression on your face. I thought you were a good luck charm because whenever you weren’t sat there I’d lose. When I went to matches that you weren’t going to be watching, I just started pointing down the centre courts like my own superstition or something.”
“Is that really the reason?” Y/N’s eyes glistened.
Harry nodded, his eyes casting downward, “S embarrassing I know,”
Y/N shook her head, cupping his face in her hands, “You’re so perfect,” She mumbled, the both of them falling back onto the mattress, getting lost in each other all over again.
. . .
Y/N couldn’t focus on anything other than the crowd gathering in the stands as she sat in her plastic chair on the left-hand side of the umpire’s seat. Harry stood next to her, barely saying a word but offering her his presence to ease her nerves.
Today was the final, the day Y/N had been working towards all these months and it didn’t feel real. The air was hot and humid, Y/N could already feel her skin sticking to the chair as the sun beat down on her.
After waking up this morning, Y/N felt a blissful ache between her legs from her night with Harry. In some ways, she was thankful for it because for a moment it helped her forget what events lay ahead. Their night together had been magical, there was no other way she could describe it. She had no idea what could happen to a person after being so vulnerable with another but she felt lighter and even more in love with Harry than she had ever been before.
Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, “We’ll be starting soon,” He murmured, squatting in front of her to meet her eyes.
They had gone to the gym first thing in the morning to warm up for the day's big event. Harry had tried to distract her mind from the doubts that consumed her by playing bad music or challenging her strength on the bel bars but Y/N’s mind constantly drifted.
“Right,” Y/N felt the pit in her stomach cave inwards, consuming all her insides and mushing them altogether. She felt a wave of nausea as Courtney walked onto the court and everyone applauded her.
“Y/N,” Harry grasped her hand in her lap and squeezed, “You are going to win this. I wholeheartedly believe in you.”
Her shoulders drop, “If I don’t-”
“There’s no ‘if’,” Harry interrupted her before she could finish her negative train of thought, “You can and you will. Courtney may be a good tennis player but her ego outweighs all of that.”
Y/N nods, “Okay,” She says.
Harry stands, his hand cupping her left cheek to lift her head. He grins, “I love you.”
Y/N knows her heart is still intact at least from the way it flips and spins inside her chest at his words, “I love you too.”
A twinkle shines in his eyes until they drift over to the stands. His lips curve, “I think there are some other people here who love you too,” He motions his head towards the crowd and Y/N casts her gaze over in that direction.
She feels her eyes prick with tears when she sees Sarah, Mitch and Adam in the front row of the stands all wearing t-shirts with her name and face plastered onto them. Sarah immediately spots her and waves, pointing to her shirt with excitement and pride for her best friend.
“Did you bring them here?” Y/N asked, looking up at Harry.
He shrugged, “Sarah was insisting she came,”
Y/N squeezes his hand, “Thank you,” She whispers, “For all of this. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.” Harry holds her feeling her heart hammering against her chest as too many emotions consume them both.
Unfortunately for her, Harry couldn’t stay at her side for the entire game but he was in the front row of the stands, directly in the middle exactly where she would sit whenever she would watch any of his games back home.
When the umpire announced the game would begin, Y/N walked over to Courtney and shook her hand, “Good luck,” She said.
Courtney scoffed, “Yeah, thanks.”
Y/N rolled her eyes.
As the match began, Y/N and Courtney faced off on the court. The crowd hushed, watching intently. Y/N felt jittery as she waited for Courtney's first serve.
Courtney tossed the ball and swung her racket, sending the ball flying towards Y/N who responded quickly, hitting the ball back with a loud smack.
The game was on. Y/N and Courtney traded shots back and forth, each trying to outplay the other. Y/N felt confident with each move she made, pushing away her earlier doubts until she noticed Courtney begin to counteract her moves when she took in how Y/N responded to each shot.
With one hard-hitting strike, Courtney sent the ball straight past Y/N’s shoulder.
Courtney had the first point.
Y/N glanced over at Harry, seeing him watching with intense focus but his eyes were glued onto her as if she were the only person on the court.
Ignoring Courtney’s smug expression, Y/N served the ball sending it straight into the air and hitting it back with all the force and aggression she could muster. The rally started up again, each stroke a testament to Y/N’s hard work over the past few months. Except this time, the winning prize was closer than it had ever been before.
Y/N aimed the ball and landed it in the corner, Country struggling to reach it in time before it bounced off.
“Fifteen all.” The umpire speaks.
Her ears caught the cheers of her best friend in the crowd, Harry stood and clapped for her but she could still see how tense he was since the game had only just begun.
This back-and-forth continued for the next few rounds. Every time Y/N would move, Courtney would match it. The scores were inching closer and closer to the end. Y/N watched when Courtney served the ball once more and aimed to respond, wrapping both her hands tightly around her racket and running towards the ball as it flung through the air but then she felt it.
An intense pain travelled through her entire body coming from her shoulder and travelling down her arm.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, the ball landing right by her as she dropped to her knees and her racket fell from her hands. Y/N let out a pained scream as she clutched her shoulder.
Medics ran onto the court, people gasping in their seats as they watched the events unfold. “Harry,” Y/N whimpered, “Harry,” She was saying his name like he was looking out for him.
“Stop moving,” One of the medics urged when Y/N tried to stand up.
“Harry,” Y/N sobbed, tears falling from her eyes.
She wasn’t sure what hurt more - her shoulder or her heart breaking from the thought of all this being over.
“Y/N,” Harry was out of breath as he approached her, pushing the security out of the way when they tried to stop him. He collapsed to his knees beside her, searching for the damage.
“Harry,” Y/N cried, the only word she could possibly seem to say in a moment like this.
Harry didn’t know what to do. He felt helpless as he waited for the medics to finish checking out her arm. He held her head to his chest, covering her ears as though it would be enough to shelter her from all that was going on around them. “It’s okay baby,” He whispered, trying to remain calm despite the panic he was feeling.
He felt as though this was all some kind of nightmare he couldn’t seem to wake up from. Flashbacks from his own injury came to the forefront of his mind as he sat beside her, his shirt dampening as her tears seeped through. “You’re going to be fine,” He told her, repeatedly like he was trying to make himself believe it too.
“It’s ruined, I failed.” Y/N sobbed.
“Hey,” He held her face, trying to smooth some of the tears away, “You’re not a failure and you didn’t ruin anything. You played so well, the best I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s over,” She couldn’t take in anything he was saying and he knew that.
He knew what she was feeling - how the pain of losing everything outweighed the physical pain of an injury. “I love you Y/N, you’re going to be okay.” Was all he could say.
“Y/N, it's a mild dislocation,” one of the medics explained.
“What?” Y/N tried not to scream as they moved her arm.
“We need to take you to the hospital to get it reset,” they advised, but Y/N shook her head immediately.
“No,” she whispered urgently, “Do it now.”
“Y/N—” Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Ignoring him, Y/N locked eyes with him and insisted, “Put it back in now, and I can finish the game.”
“Y/N, this is crazy,” Harry protested, shaking his head, “I won’t let you go out there in this much pain.”
“You’ve done it before,” she reminded him, “I watched you dislocate your shoulder and keep playing.”
“This is different,” Harry argued, remembering his own injury.
“If I don’t finish this, I would hate myself,” Y/N insisted earnestly, “Please.”
“Y/N, you’ll be at a disadvantage. You’d have to play the entire game with one hand.”
“I know, and I know how to do it,” Y/N reassured him, her eyes softening, “Because you taught me.”
Harry struggled with a gut feeling that this was a terrible idea. “Okay,” he relented, brushing her hair back gently, “Okay.”
“Are you sure?” the medic asked, clearly apprehensive.
“Just do it,” Y/N spoke through gritted teeth.
Harry held the back of her head as she buried her face in his neck, clinging onto his hands tightly. “I’m gonna be so mad at you for this later,” he whispered into her ear.
“That’s okay,” Y/N attempted a smile, but it quickly faded as the medics reset her shoulder. She wailed and squeezed Harry’s hand so tightly he thought it might fall off.
As the medics stepped back, Y/N raised her arm, feeling the pain subside but still present. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, concern etched on his face.
“No,” Y/N said, “But I have to do this.”
The crowd gasped when Y/N stood, picking up her racket with one hand and flipping it in her hand. Harry stood, glancing over at Courtney who was equally as shocked as everybody else.
He stood in front of Y/N, “I’m so pissed at you right now,” He huffs, “But you better win this.”
Y/N shot him a sad smile, “I’ll try my best.”
He hastily kissed her lips before she could walk away to carry on playing, “That’s all I ask,” He murmured against her. He walks back to his place in the stands, Y/N watching as he goes.
She pushed away the pain that was shooting down her arm and stood on her end of the court to finish the game. Courtney seemed unsure, scanning the way she stood and seeing her limp arm beside her.
Y/N glanced at the academy trophy, feeling like it was now out of reach.
The umpire announced the final round and the tension fell thick in the air. Y/N inhaled a shaky breath and got into position, watching as Courtney threw the ball into the air and hit it with her racket.
Even though one of her arms wasn’t exactly working, her legs worked just fine as she ran for the ball, hitting it with her racket in her one hand. She gritted her teeth when the pain increased with her movements and met Coutrney’s rallies as best as she could. The match raged on, each swing of the racket echoing with the intensity of her cries as Y/N hit the ball.
With each shot, Y/N poured her heart and soul into the game, her movements fueled by sheer determination. The crowd held its breath, watching in awe as she defied the odds with every stroke.
As the pain intensified, Y/N's desperation for the game to end grew. She couldn't understand why Courtney hadn't already sealed the win with one final move. However, Y/N was slowly wondering whether Courtney was using her pain as a way of satisfying her own ego. Y/N noticed whenever she winced or faltered in her movements, Courtney's smirk widened as if she was intentionally prolonging the game to relish in Y/N's discomfort.
A surge of anger ignited within Y/N at the realisation. Harry had been right about Courtney's ego, and now Y/N was determined to turn it against her.
With gritted teeth and a steely determination in her eyes, Y/N squared her shoulders and focused solely on the game. She blocked out the pain, channeling every ounce of her strength and skill into each swing of her racket.
Courtney's smirk faltered as Y/N's resolve became palpable. The crowd sensed a shift in momentum, their cheers growing louder. With each stroke, Y/N felt herself gaining ground, her movements becoming more fluid and precise.
And then, with one final, decisive shot, she sent the ball sailing past Courtney, landing squarely within the boundaries of the court.
Y/N fell to her knees, tears falling from her eyes as she realised she had won the entire game.
Harry, Sarah, Mitch and Adam all leapt from the stands and ran towards her, embracing her carefully so to avoid her aching shoulder.
Harry picked her up, holding her tightly and kissing her face, “You did it,” He grinned, “You won.”
“I did it,” Y/N sobbed in disbelief and then a smile took over her entire face as realisation hit her.
She had won.
. . .
Y/N stood by her locker with Sarah, her arm wrapped in a sling whilst wearing her school uniform. Banners littered the walls of the hallway with ‘congratulations’ written in golden handwriting across them.
“I can’t believe you won’t be coming with me to UCL next year,” Sarah huffed, “How am I meant to do anything without you?”
Y/N smiled at her best friend, “The tennis academy is a twenty minute walk away from UCL so it’s not like we’ll be away from each other.”
“I know but who am I going to roomie with next year?” Sarah sighed, “It won’t be the same. We’ve been roommates since we were five, I can’t trust anybody like I do with you. I mean, you even accept my white noise machine.”
Y/N hadn’t accepted it, she hated that thing, but Sarah was her best friend so she put up with it, “Well how about we get an apartment together?”
Sarah almost gasps, “Seriously?”
Y/N nods, “I was thinking maybe me, you, Mitch and Harry could all move in together since we’re going to be living in the same city.”
Sarah’s entire face lights up at the idea, “Have you told Harry about it?”
“We spoke about it last night.” Last night when she stayed the night at his apartment and spent most of the night tangled up in one another.
Sarah squealed, “I have to tell Mitch, he is going to love that idea. Don’t tell Harry this but the other day he started crying at the thought of having to leave him when the year ends.”
They walked out of the school building together, Sarah rambling about how she wanted to decorate their non-existing apartment as Y/N nodded intently to each of her ideas.
Since the Academy Slam, not much had changed other than the fact that Y/N was now going to be spending the next two years at the Tennis Academy in London. The school newspaper had done another interview with her but this time she didn’t mind so much that Harry shared the front cover with her, pride on his face as he looked down at her.
Even though she was achieving her dreams, nothing compared to the relationship she had with Harry. Everyday Y/N felt like she was floating whenever she woke up in Harry’s arms in his apartment or in her tiny dorm bed whenever Sarah wasn’t around.
A smile covered her entire face when she saw Harry looking like every girl’s wet dream, leaning up against the bonnet of his audi as he waited for her. When he did, his own smile mirrored hers, “Hi baby,” He spoke, her heart pounding in her chest.
“Hi Harry,” Y/N stood toe to toe in front of him, clutching her books in one arm.
He wrapped one arm around her waist beneath her blazer and pulled her into his chest, kissing her lips softly, his breath tasting like mint chewing gum, “How’s m’ girl?”
Y/N bit down on her lip to stop herself from smiling so much, “Good, I had a test today.”
“Did you smash it?” He smirked.
“Yes but I probably could have done better if somebody hadn’t kept me up all last night.” She rolled her eyes.
His lips went to her neck, “Don’t lie, you loved what I did,” He mumbled against her skin as he suckled on her neck, surely leaving a mark.
“These late nights are getting out of hand,” Y/N made a feeble attempt to push him away.
“Mmm,” He hummed, pulling away, “Need I remind you that you were the one to initiate it,”
“I did not,” Y/N gaped.
“Uh huh,” Harry smirked, “Whatever you want to believe.”
“No you were the one who-”
Harry’s smirk deepened, “Who what?” He watched as Y/N’s cheeks turned pink and her mouth open and closed as she struggled to say something.
“Shut up,” She huffed, walking to the passenger seat of his car, “Take me home please,”
“Whatever you want,” He beamed, loving the way she called his apartment her home.
He drove away from the tennis courts, a spark of joy igniting within her every time they came into view. Harry held her hand over the console as they drove down the streets to his apartment, feeling more at peace than she had ever been before. Not only was she going to be going to her dream school but she’d also be with Harry and her best friend too.
For a long time, Y/N believed that tennis was the only love of her life but now she had Harry and if she had to choose between the two, she would pick him every single time.
taglist: @storyschanging @lilbredsticc @esposa-do-harry @st-ev-ie @itschelseacisneros @hermionelove @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hesvoid34 @writersarenotartists @ayeree1 @sassamanda77 @estaticheart
#harry styles fic rec#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagines#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#fic rec#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry edward styles#one direction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#tennisplayer!y/n#tennis rivals#enemies to lovers#harry styles au#tennisplayer!h#rivals to lovers
459 notes
·
View notes
Text
EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI
perv!mean!Hopper, dom!Steve, soft!dom!Eddie x sub!Reader
Includes: MFM relationship, Hopper is a dirty cop/really sleazy human, oral sex, anal sex, guilt/shame/angst, blood mention, surgery mention, abuse of power, vomit, fingering, praise kink, piss, deepthroating, cockwarming, masturbation, swallowing, unprotected vaginal sex, pregnancy, shame, lies, secrets, squirting, and bubble bath sex… 🫨
PART ONE
@wordynerdygurl @eddiesguitarskills
• Our story begins in Chief Hopper’s Blazer, parked somewhere secluded in the woods of Hawkins •
“You got somethin’ to say kid-,” Hopper sighed, irritated. “Just fuckin’ say it.”
He was in a bad mood today…impatient. And honestly, it was the last thing you needed. “Why’re you so quiet anyway?” he asked, his hand sliding between your thighs. “Usually by now, you’d have this sweet little cunt in my fa-.” Hopper stopped speaking when he realized you were wearing underwear.
“The hell is this?” he asked. “You know my rules. No fuckin’ panties when you’re with me.” Hopper cursed, stamping out his burned-down cigarette. “You on the rag or somethin?” he asked, adding “I told you, it doesn’t fuckin’ bother me. There’s towels in the back, and besides-.” Hopper squeezed your thigh, a wry grin on his lips. “-I like it when you make a mess…”
You met his eyes, his deep blue gaze almost sinister with hunger. It would be difficult to say no to Hopper, even with the information you’d been wrestling with since morning.
“Jim,” you began, and he looked at you strangely, since you rarely ever addressed him by anything other than ‘Chief.’
“Yeah?” he asked flatly.
Your heart was racing a mile a minute, as you recalled the way your morning had started…nausea roiling in your stomach on the way to the bathroom from bed, vomit spraying the toilet bowl, and the piece of plastic you’d held between trembling hands, watching as two bold lines of color bloomed in the result area of the test…
“I’m pregnant,” you murmured softly. Hopper stared at you for a moment, before bursting out laughing. “Christ!” he exclaimed, his eyes crinkled in amusement. “How about that?” You watched Hopper light his cigarette, stunned silent by his reaction. “You told him yet?”
“Have I told who?” you asked. Hopper frowned back at you, confused but still smirking. “Your loser boyfriend,” he clarified, snapping his lighter closed. “You told The Freak he’s about to be somebody’s daddy?” Hopper chuckled again at his own words, finding the idea of Eddie being a father hilarious.
The shock you were feeling began to morph into anger. “What if it’s yours?” you asked, a bitter lump rising in your throat. Hopper’s laughter died quickly, his eyes going dark. “It’s not,” he retorted coldly, shifting in his seat to face the road, and not you.
“How do you know?” you asked, and he quickly (almost defensively) replied “because it’s not.” Hopper blew a cloud of smoke at the dashboard, resting his elbow against the driver’s side door. “Can’t be. I had the surgery-.” Hopper made a snipping motion with his fingers. “-Vasectomy. The kid’s not mine…”
You had no reason to believe him. Hopper could see the doubt in your eyes, so he chose to elaborate. “Had it done years ago. After my daughter, uh…” Hopper paused, his voice wavering. “…after my kid died. I decided I never wanted to go through that kind of…” He sniffed, clearing his throat. “…loss, again. So-.” Hopper shook his head slightly, as if shaking away a bad memory. “-I got fixed. Can’t lose a kid I can’t have in the first place, y’know?”
You wanted to believe Hopper. It would relieve at least some of your anxiety, but not all of it. You still wouldn’t be sure whether the baby was Eddie or Steve’s; but at least the affair you were having with Hopper could remain hidden, if the baby couldn’t be his…
“Besides,” Hopper said, interrupting your thoughts. “Can’t risk knocking up a girl like you, right?”
His question caught you off guard. “Like me?” you asked.
“Yeah,” Hopper replied. “One of my girls.”
Your lips parted, a weight sinking in your chest. Hopper’s smile took on a cruel affect.
“Oh?” he teased. “You thought you were the only girl I screw around with out here?” He waved his hand to the window, indicating the forest around you. “Trust me sweetheart,” Hopper continued, taking another drag of his cigarette. “You aren’t the only pretty girl in Hawkins with a boyfriend she wants to keep out of jail...”
His callous attitude was breaking your heart. You felt like a complete idiot for giving so much of yourself to Hopper, far more than your body alone. You’d felt safe with him, for some ungodly reason you couldn’t identify now. Regardless of how good Hopper was at fucking you, the reality of his monstrous character was finally, truly sinking in.
Hopper noticed the look of sorrow that had washed over you, and it annoyed him. “Now let’s get one thing straight,” he told you, leaning closer. “I still own this-.” Hopper slid his hand further between your thighs till he was cupping your pussy, squeezing it so hard you winced. “I still own you,” he added, his tone harsh. “And unless you want Eddie to miss the birth of his kid ‘cause he’s rotting in a jail cell-.” Hopper ripped the crotch of your panties aside and forced two fingers inside you. “-Nothin’ about our little arrangement changes. Understand?”
You nodded resignedly, a tear trickling down your cheek. Hopper rested his cigarette between his lips, using the fingers that had been holding it to pull down your shirt, and your bra along with it. He rolled your nipple between his thumb and index finger, pinching till you yelped.
In some sense, he felt that you were at fault in all of this…that you’d fucked up by getting pregnant. And the main reason Hopper wanted to punish you, was out of fear. Because he knew there was a very real possibility that you were pregnant with his baby. The vasectomy story was a lie, a well-rehearsed one he’d told many girls before you. Hopper really was just a selfish asshole who came in multiple women every week, and didn’t care about the consequences his reckless behavior might cause.
But this time, Hopper was afraid. He’d managed to escape the consequences of his actions for too long now; the truth would eventually come out. Hopper felt like this time, he might have really fucked things up. His bad mood from earlier was now a simmering rage. And he was going to take out all of his frustration on you.
Hopper pulled his fingers out of you with a loud squelch. “Get your ass in the back,” he ordered.
You obeyed.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Eddie and Steve weren’t stupid. They’d seen you rush to the bathroom that morning, obviously feeling unwell. They’d found it suspicious when you stayed in there for over an hour, blowing them off each time they asked through the door if you were alright.
You’d locked yourself in the bathroom as if guarding a terrible secret inside it. As soon as you’d left to go meet a friend for lunch Hopper for sex, Steve and Eddie had done a bit of investigating. And it didn’t take them long to figure out the reason you’d been hiding in the bathroom, and why you’d looked so upset when you left it.
The positive pregnancy test was thrown into the back of the cabinet under the sink, but Steve managed to find it. Eddie covered his mouth in shock when he saw it, a big smile on his face. Steve was less enthusiastic, but not because he didn’t want you to be pregnant. Steve was uncomfortable with the possibility that Eddie, and not him, could be the baby’s father. If Steve was going to have kids with anyone, he’d want it to be you. The idea of Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson beating him to it…pissed Steve off.
For his part, Eddie was just happy. He was babbling excitedly to Steve about baby names, what the three of you would need to change around the apartment before the baby arrived, etc. He was buzzing with energy, while Steve was taking the news of your pregnancy in stride. He was happy for you, but he wanted to be happy for the two of you...excited for your baby and his. Not your baby and Eddie’s…
While Steve sat on the couch in silent contemplation, Eddie paced back and forth restlessly, chatting away at Steve about all his plans for the baby. “(Y/N)’ll be home soon,” Eddie told Steve. “When she walks in, we should both jump out and be like, hey mama!”
Steve rolled his eyes at Eddie. “Nobody’s jumping out at anybody, okay?” he retorted. “She hid the test, Ed. She didn’t want us to know.”
Eddie’s look of joy faded. He knew Steve was right.
“If she wanted to tell us, she would’ve this morning,” Steve continued. “We have to respect her privacy. God only knows what’s going through her mind right now.” Eddie flopped down on the couch beside Steve, his leg bouncing nervously.
“Why wouldn’t she tell us?” Eddie asked, even though he knew the man beside him didn’t have an answer. Steve shrugged his shoulders in an attempt at indifference. “I’m sure she has her reasons,” he replied. “And she will tell us, when she’s ready...”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Hopper dropped you off a few streets over from the apartment complex, just as he always did after driving you out into the woods and fucking you. This time was different from the others. You were sore. Hopper had fucked you in the ass today, and not gently. It would take some time to recover, and the most appealing thing in the world to you right now was a warm bath you could lay back and relax in.
Standing outside the door to your apartment, you could hear Steve and Eddie talking inside. Part of you was happy they seemed to be bonding in your absence. Another part of you worried that they somehow knew about the pregnancy…or worse, about your affair with Hopper.
Your worries disappeared as soon as you opened the door. Steve and Eddie were busy in the kitchen making dinner, politely arguing about whether or not the pasta they were boiling was truly al dente. Your keys jingling got their attention. “Hey babe,” Steve called out. “Hope you’re hungry; Eddie and I boiled a shit ton of pasta by accident.”
Eddie held up the empty box the pasta had come from, idly inspecting it. “Yeah,” he commented as his eyes scanned the label. “Turns out one box yields, um…” Eddie pursed his lips, trying to do the math in his head. “…Waaaay more than we need,” he finished with a lighthearted grin in Steve’s direction. “Math was never my strong suit, okay?”
Steve left the stove and approached you, resting his big hands on your shoulders like protective mitts. The gesture was tender, warm, very unlike the affection you were used to getting from Steve. “Thought we’d eat in tonight,” he said, massaging your shoulders softly. “Maybe watch a movie together.” Steve was being so gentle, it took you completely by surprise, in the best way.
Eddie leaned in to your neck, nuzzling you with a soft kiss. “Dinner can wait,” he said, turning your chin to face him. “I think I’m in the mood to have dessert first…”
Steve nodded in agreement- “I second that,” -and let his hands glide down your arms, lingering around your wrists. “What d’you say, (y/n)?”
You realized how lucky you were, in that moment. These two beautiful men were standing there, wanting only to please you. A part of you wanted to reveal your pregnancy, but the possibility of ruining such a tender moment gave you pause. Guilt washed over your heart as you remembered your other secret, the one you were most afraid of confessing: Hopper.
“I think I’d like to have a bath first,” you told them. “And afterwards, I’ll absolutely be ready for dessert…”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
The bath Steve ran for you was perfect. Big, fluffy piles of cotton candy-scented bubbles floated on top of the water, swallowing you in a warm hug as you sank beneath them. You let your hair fan out on the water’s surface, your eyes drifting closed as you tried to relax. A cassette player on the sink played a tape of ambient music that Eddie had chosen for you. The lights were dimmed, with a few candles flickering beside you on the edge of the tub.
It should have been the perfect atmosphere to relax in, but your mind was running circles. Additionally, the work Hopper had done on your ass earlier that day made sitting uncomfortable, even in a warm tub of bubbles. You tried to avoid thinking of the pregnancy, but it was impossible. Over the course of one day, you’d gone from worrying you were falling in love with Hopper to bitterly resenting the power he held over you. Could you really trust him, that there was no way the baby could be his? As much as you wanted it to be true, based on what you knew of Hopper’s character, you had plenty of reason to doubt him.
How could you have been so naive, to think that Hopper didn’t have similar arrangements with other girls? He’d taken such good care of you sexually, fucking you slowly, unselfishly. Maybe it really had been for him all this time; but Hopper made it seem like he was fucking you for your pleasure more than his own. Like he genuinely cared about you. The way he ate you out for hours on end, licking you till the pleasure turned to pain. Why would a man who had so many girls dedicate that much time to your satisfaction? To making sure you came at least six times in one afternoon? Was there something about you that Hopper couldn’t get from all his other girls?
You hated feeling jealous, especially over someone like him. Here you were, sitting in a beautiful bath prepared by Steve and Eddie, about to be fucked by both of them as soon as you were finished. And yet, you were jealous over a filthy son of a bitch that was twice your age and fucking who knows how many other girls?? You shook your head, bubbles fizzing at your ears. A quiet little sob escaped your lips, but not quiet enough for Eddie’s perceptive ears to miss.
He peeked around the doorframe, a concerned look on his face. “You good, (y/n)?” he asked. With a heavy sigh, you managed a smile, and rested your chin on the side of the tub. “I’d be better if you and Steve joined me,” you said.
Eddie’s lips quirked into a grin. He stuck his head around the corner and called for Steve, “get in here Harrington, she wants us in the tub with her.”
When Steve entered the bathroom, he was met with a view of you sucking Eddie off at the side of the tub. The image made Steve’s brain go a little hazy, and all he wanted was to be naked, too. Your eyes left Eddie’s and locked with Steve’s as you sucked. The look on Steve’s face made you grin around Eddie’s cock, the corners of your lips stinging at the stretch. “Fucking look at her,” Eddie marveled, running his fingers through your damp hair. “Look at how good she sucks it…”
Steve removed his shirt and began to work his belt undone. His cock was hard and leaking by this point, wet and ready for the moist heat of your mouth. He removed his pants and his boxers, kicking them aside as he made his way to the tub.
Eddie’s legs quivered as he stood beside the bath, with you on your knees in the tub taking his cock down your throat. Steve watched while masturbating to the view in front of him, massaging his cock in slow, patient pumps from base to tip. He knew he’d get the same treatment from your lips as Eddie, that all he had to do was enjoy the show till his turn came.
The soft gurgling sounds you made around Eddie’s cock had both men groaning. “Good fuckin’ girl,” Steve praised. “Takin’ such good care of Eddie’s cock…gonna take care of mine too, yeah?”
You nodded, your head bobbing on Eddie’s dick. Pulling your lips off his tip with a loud pop, you shifted in the water and reached for Steve. “Uh-uh,” he scolded, swatting away your touch. “No hands. You want my cock? Then find it with your mouth like a good little girl…”
Greedy, hungry to taste the sweet pearly liquid oozing from Steve’s tip, you did as he instructed. Clasping your hands behind your back, you leaned forward till Steve’s cock was bumping your mouth, smearing precum over your lips and chin. “Open up,” Eddie murmured down at you, patting his hand against your cheek. “Take care of Steve’s cock the way you took care of mine, pretty thing.”
As Steve pressed himself between your lips, his girth caused an even sharper sting than Eddie’s. Usually, this was the order you sucked them in; Eddie was a little longer than Steve but not as thick, so he generally went first and got your throat warmed up for Steve.
A hum of pleasure rolled deep in Steve’s chest as he fucked your mouth, watching his cock disappear between your lips again and again with every thrust. Eddie climbed into the tub, reaching for your hips and tugging them to meet his.
As Steve continued to use your mouth, Eddie pulled you onto his lap beneath the water. He splashed away a hill of bubbles to watch your pussy swallowing his cock under the water. Steve lifted his leg and braced his foot against the edge of the tub. This position gave him even deeper access to your throat, his balls slapping full and heavy against your chin as he took you. Gripping your hair in his fist, Steve used it as leverage to fuck your face as rough as possible, till your gag reflex activated and you smacked his thigh, telling him to pull back. Vomit spilled onto the ceramic bathroom tile. Steve wiped your lips clean with a towel and cradled your face in his hands. “You wanna stop, baby?” he asked, and you shook your head ‘no,’ in response.
Steve complied, burying his cock down your throat again without pause. Eddie’s dick was nestled balls-deep inside your cunt as he let you cockwarm him. The urge to buck up into you was deliriously tempting, but Eddie forced himself still, knowing he’d come too soon if he moved even slightly. The sounds you were making on Steve’s cock were beyond pornographic. Gulping, choking, gagging around the thick outline of his shaft, you forced every inch down your throat till you’d swallowed him completely.
Steve exhaled a flurry of curses, his hands in your hair gripping for dear life as his knees went weak. “Oh my-oh my god baby-how d’you-how d’you do that?” he gasped. “I’m gonna-fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna come honey, shit!”
Steve ejaculated so far down your throat, his cum slid straight to your stomach. Eddie completely lost it, watching Steve’s face contort in pleasure as he relieved himself inside your mouth. Unable to hold back any longer, Eddie bucked his hips upward, punching into you with a few hard, breathless thrusts. As Steve staggered back to lean against the bathroom sink, Eddie groaned into your shoulder and painted your pussy with cum. “Oh my god!” he exhaled, falling against the back of the tub, a big smile on his face. “That was…I’ve never come that hard in my life, (y/n)-.”
“Neither have I,” Steve chuckled, finding his breath again. He returned to the edge of the tub and caressed your cheek, smiling warmly down at you. “Good girl,” he said, and then left for the bedroom, ready to pass out in bed.
Eddie lifted you off of him, resting your ass on the side of the tub, and parted your legs over his shoulders. You held onto his hair as Eddie buried his face against your cunt, his tongue searching out and swallowing every drop of his orgasm. Your thighs were shaking, clamped around Eddie’s face as he ate you, licking your cunt clean, hoping to get you all dirty again.
His wish came true less than a minute later. Biting your bottom lip to keep from screaming, you came all over Eddie’s tongue. A mix of cum and piss squirted inside his mouth and ran down his chin in slippery streams, dripping into the tub. Eddie growled into your cunt, his hand furiously working his dick under the water, a second climax overtaking him as he swallowed your release. Thick ropes of semen expelled under the water, clinging to the hair on Eddie’s legs. He pulled you into the tub with him, soaking your bodies in both your cum and his, kissing you so deeply you’d swear Eddie’s tongue touched your soul.
Eddie gently rocked you in his arms, in the mix of bubbles, water and cum. His body stretched across yours and covered you like a protective shield. You felt safer than you ever had before, looking into the eyes of the man you loved more than anything, the man you would do anything for…
…even if that meant doing Jim Hopper, to keep Eddie safe. There he was, that horrible, cruel bastard, forcing his way into your mind again, even as you lay in Eddie’s arms. The urge to tell, at least one of your secrets, became overwhelming.
You held Eddie’s cheek and gently stroked his hair, your words barely above a whisper as you told him: “I’m pregnant.”
His eyes lit happily, the corners of his lips turning up into a grin. “I love you, (y/n),” Eddie said.
And that, you realized, was all the assurance you needed that no matter what happened from here on, things were going to be alright… 🖤
#stranger things#stranger things smut#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#Eddie Munson#eddie munson smut#Jim hopper#jim hopper smut#hopper smut#steve harrington x reader#eddie munson x reader#Jim hopper x reader#hopper x reader#steve harrington x you#Eddie Munson x you#hopper x you#Jim hopper x you#steddie x you#steddie x reader#steddie x reader smut#steve x you#steve x reader#eddie x reader#eddie x you#mean!hopper#mean!jim hopper#perv!jim hopper#perv!hopper#dom!steve harrington#sub!reader
177 notes
·
View notes
Note
“Dick nodded, "I'll tell Bruce. I don't think he wants you on Patrol for any particular reason. You're probably just on stand by." With any luck, Dick thought, they'd never put you with Jason. That would be catastrophic. “
Why would it be catastrophic to put her and Jason on patrol together?
Your teeth were clenched so tightly that your jaws were starting to ache. If you tried to speak, you didn't think you'd be able to.
Thankfully, no one expected you to talk much. Not really. Dick, Tim, Jason, Steph, even Babs in her day... they were the talky ones. Quipy, or snarky. Clever.
That wasn't you. Early on, it was decided it was better if you didn't talk much. It was hard to talk and focus on control and investigate. Now though, it was just a habit. Part of the Changeling mystiqueue. You appeared. Things happened no one understood. You left. And sometimes you never said more than a few quiet words to the other bats. Or Gordon.
Tonight though, you didn't talk because you were working with Jason. And working with Jason was... well. He was a whirlwind of constant emotions. There was never a thread. Never an even keel. Up. Down. Around. Rage. Pain. Sadness. Joy. Spite. Anxiety. Rinse and repeat. And it was LOUD. So loud.
The way Bruce was loud when he was on a tear about something. Or Dick was loud when he had to be Batman. But it was CONSTANT. From the second he put the helmet was on.
And now you were in an Elevator. A piece of shit-
The metallic bang and the electric whine made your heart drop to your feet but nothing was as bad as hearing Jason say "Uh-oh"
I'm in a box. Boxes are cages. Oh god.
Panic rises up and you can feel it grip your throat like iron teeth. Vicious and unyielding.
"Y/N," Jason tried, shaking your shoulder, "hey,-" You don't respond. And he can see you starting to rock. Your pupils behind your mask blown wide with terror. "We have a situation," he said into his commlink.
"Report," Bruce grunted from his bed.
"I'm trapped in a broken elevator with Changeling. Something is blocking both exits-"
And if the look in your eyes didn't tell him there was a problem, the in unison "Shit" over the comms would have.
"Try and keep her calm," Bruce said. "Oracle-"
"Already sending people to their location," she reported.
Jason exhaled slowly and looked at you. Rocking and holding yourself in such tight control you looked like you'd break under the slightest pressure. "Hey," he said softly, taking his helmet off so he could look at you properly. Tilting your chin up, making you look at anything but the walls that were holding you in. "You're not by yourself, okay? Help is gonna come. We're gonna go home."
"Home?"
Your voice is so small. It sqeaks. So timid and pathetic. It makes his heart crack.
"Home," he confirms, keeping his tone soft. He didn't know what to do. How to reach you. All he knew was that he had to keep himself calm. And maybe- maybe if he could remind you you weren't alone. Make you feel something else aside from terror... maybe he could get you both out of this without you driving an entire city block into a frenzy.
94 notes
·
View notes
Text
MORE HEADCANONS BECAUSE I’M ALL POWERFUL
Please don’t get upset if you disagree with any of these!! This is just how I see the characters ^^
More context about the headcanons under the cut!
Nami
Transfem lesbian!!
Basically married to Vivi (who isn’t pictured but she gives me demigirl bisexual energy with a preference to girls)
CHUBBY BECAUSE I SAY SO!!!!! 🧡🧡🧡
And she’s still beautiful and wonderful and Sanji still simps for her. Chubby people are gorgeous
She’s technically pale but tanned a bit from being outside so much
Aaand bandaid because she’s literally just a normal girl and is susceptible to minor injuries unlike the other weird built different ppl on the crew (aside from Usopp)
sPEAKING OF USOPP!!! She’s absolute besties with him like they talk about everything and anything and gossip and all that jazz. They’re so special to me.
I’m not sure if bipolar fits entirely, but there’s definitely something with her mood swings and the intensity of her emotions. If this is insensitive at all please inform me
Chopper
Agender aroace reindeer fella??? SiGN ME UP
Both male and female reindeers have antlers so I used that to my advantage because gender silly
I think Chopper uses they/he/it, but slightly prefers to be referred to by their name rather than pronouns
Chopper has attachment issues, but I couldn’t find anything other than avoidant attachment disorder (which doesn’t seem entirely fitting). But it definitely gets very attached to others when it trusts them and has a hard time moving on.
Also I just like to draw Chopper more reindeer-like than Chopper’s canon design but aside from that I don’t really make too many design changes? Just… floofy Chopper… 🩷🩷🩷
Usopp
Panromantic asexual!!
Down bad for Sanji (he has terrible taste /j)
I had a revelation after drawing this so Usopp isn’t actually cis lol- they’re a demiboy but in a genderfluid kind of way, some days he feels more masculine and other days they feel more androgynous
I have very mixed feelings about the hair highlights,, I lowkey might not keep them but it was an experiment
FRECKLES!!! USOPP HAS FRECKLES PASS IT ON PASS IT ON!!!! 💛💛💛
Bandaid like Nami because!! They’re literally just a normal teenager!!!
Usopp has anxiety and borderline personality disorder because the feelings of superiority and inferiority? The constant fear? Being immune to Perona’s ghosts from dealing with mental illness their entire life???
Luffy
Asexual grayromantic
If he had a partner it would be gay regardless of his own gender expression (I’m projecting because I feel gay when I’m attracted to anyone)
Genderfluid, some days they prefer different pronouns but most of the time they use all at once (also is this ironic bc Luffy can’t swim but is swimming in fluid pronouns)
King of the pronouns!!! King of the genders!!! Will steal your pronouns and gender!!! Watch out!!!
I gave her vitiligo on a whim to be 100% honest, but I feel like it’s very fitting and also very fun to draw ❤️❤️❤️
I only did a headshot here because I have another post with a bunch of other drawings of this Luffy
I feel like I don’t need to explain but Luffy is very very AuDHD to me
He has so much energy and is easily distracted and gets really focused on things and likes to talk about anything and everything
Sanji
Bisexual-est guy on the planet (loves all boobs /hj)
Down bad for Usopp (they have great taste)
Demiboy but in an interchangeable kinda bigender way, he’s just both enby and male at the same time
Darker roots!! Sanji’s body hair is always notably darker than his blonde hair so I decided on darker roots
CURLY/WAVY FLUFFY HAIR SANJI SUPREMACY 💙💙💙
Depression—WHICH THEY ALL OBVIOUSLY HAVE BUT
Depression in the sense it’s the reason he smokes. It’s a kind of coping mechanism.
It makes them dazed enough that they don’t have to fully feel their own despair
GIVE HIM HEALTH PROBLEMS ODA YOU COWARD. I KNOW HE’S UNREASONABLY BUILT DIFFERENT BUT LIKE
Imagine Sanji wheezing and struggling to breathe after a fight!! Emotional scene with Chopper trying to convince them to stop smoking!!
Robin
Pansexual
Married to Franky 💜💜💜
Intersex demigirl! Like- the whole being called a monster/demon her whole life and trying to find someone who accepts her is such a good (unintentional) metaphor for the gender discovery experience,,
GIVE ROBIN THEIR MELANIN BACK!!! I don’t care if it wasn’t their original colors… neither were the blue eyes but I’m giving both to them because they deserve it!!
I wanted to give Robin more of a curly hair texture but I was concerned it would start to not really resemble her. I might play around with it another time though and see if I can achieve something still recognizable
PTSD
Do I even have to explain that-
They are traumatized and get flashbacks and night terrors
Franky
Bisexual
Married to Robin 🩵🩵🩵
TRANSMASC. I AM THE BIGGEST BELIEVER OF TRANS FRANKY.
He was abandoned by his birth parents, he has a name he doesn’t use anymore, calls everyone bro regardless of gender, HE LITERALLY REBUILT HIS ENTIRE BODY-
Even though Franky’s a cyborg I gave him visible top surgery scars. I think he would show them off with pride and doesn’t necessarily need/want to be seen as a cis man. He’s just a man who once had boobs yk?
The underside of his hair is an even brighter blue because silly!!
ADHD—he hyperfixates like a madman and is also very loud and passionate. Also idk if this is an actual ADHD thing but like he’s super empathetic and cries easily? I’m like that too so idk lol
Zoro
Demihomoromantic asexual
Hopelessly, dare I say pathetically, in love with Luffy. I want to clarify that this doesn’t make Zoro less gay and this doesn’t make Luffy less genderfluid.
Also as much as I adore trans Zoro, I think the fact that he’s a cisgender feminist is important. So I headcanon him as cis.
FLUFFY HAIR ZORO FLUFFY HAIR ZORO FLUFFY HAIR ZORO 💚💚💚
I can’t decide whether or not I like the striped hair,, I’m still on the fence about it lol
Covered in scars because he’s done so much training and fighting, I know they kind of look like something else but they aren’t, don’t worry
Idk why but I always give him a dark green undershirt
Autistic!! He has a narrow range of emotions, makes nonverbal grunts, super into swords, he’s blunt, follows routine, etc.
Aaaand that’s all of them! Phew! Thank you so much for reading 💖
Reblogs, asks, and comments are super appreciated!!
#one piece#op#anime#one piece fanart#sanji#zoro#nami#straw hat pirates#usopp#strawhats#pride headcanons#headcanons#nico robin#tony tony chopper#cyborg franky#luffy#one piece fan art#one piece headcanons#one peice#opfanart#sanuso#zolu#namivivi#frobin#monkey d luffy#roronoa zoro#black leg sanji#god usopp#cat burglar nami#franky one piece
107 notes
·
View notes
Note
okok idk if you've heard the spoiler happening where colin is upset with pen and ends up at a brothel?? i've seen it twice now and uh. im really hoping it isn't true. it made sense in the first part when he was still figuring things out, but after? i really don't think they will cause that's not in colin's favor at all, but why would someone say it if it wasn't true??
do you have any other information on it and do you think it's true?? (really hoping you can quell my irrational anxiety about this lol)
thank you!!
Girl dm me about this please cause I wanna hear what you’ve heard.
But in all seriousness- I am incredibly anxious about this too! I got my information about it from a Nicola and Luke interview where they imply something happens in part two that Nicola hated, and then Nicola goes “it’s not like he’s cheating on her..”
And then Luke said something like, “but he’s had to watch her all season..”
My hope is that it’s maybe at a ball and he dances with someone else in front of her after the Whistledown reveal. I would still dislike it because we’ve seen pen look longingly at Colin dancing with others for two seasons already, but it’d be far better if it meant nothing and was pointed, then it being an actual consideration.
If they did decide to do something with the brothel, even him just considering visiting a brothel, I am going to be so incredibly pissed off. I don’t care how upset or betrayed he is- cheating or even just considering cheating is so so disgusting and so unlike Colin.
Also I’m sorry but Whistledown is not that bad. I understand where the anger and feelings of betrayal would come from, but she has reasons. She was young and silly and went about it the wrong way but she at least has reasons for what she’s done.
If Colin were to do anything, however small, even if it was just implied possible cheating, there’s no reasoning there. There’s no ‘I did it for the grand scheme of things’ or ‘I was young and naive’ or even, ‘I felt powerless and overlooked.’
But in happier news (because a lot of this is just me spiralling) I think they’re clever enough not to do that. Bridgerton is kind of the ‘man on his hands and knees for woman he loves’ show, and it’s been extremely praised for embracing the female gaze in romance and sex alike.
.. and If they do go through with any of this, trust that the polin fanfic legends WILL be writing some great canon divergence, so there’s always that.
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
OMG It’s You…(Part 8)
YouTube!Fem reader x Stray Kids
Summary: Y/N’s YouTube channel is taking off after her reactions to Stray Kids MV God’s Menu. Now she’s making videos nonstop along with working a full time job. What would happen if she got offered a job of a lifetime and met the boys of her succession?
⚠️Warnings⚠️: reader feeling down, crying, people pleaser, (orange is Korean being spoken)
🏷: @laylasbunbunny @weirdowithaphone
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Previously on OMG It's You …
Third Person POV
Y/N never imagined that she would be summoned to the conference room at her workplace, especially by unfamiliar individuals not from the United States. Nevertheless, they were seated on one side of the table, while Y/N found herself on the other, facing a stack of papers with the word "CONTRACT" emblazoned across the top.
“Are you interested in collaborating with us?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/N’s POV
I have also been content with working in the evenings as I am a natural night owl. I also inherited punctuality from my father and typically arrive at work at least an hour early to have time to eat and fully wake up before my shift. Although I don't love my job, I am grateful for it as I have been in worse situations previously.
As I was about to start my shift, my boss sent me a text asking me to call immediately. I quickly dialed the number and waited anxiously as it rang. When my boss finally answered, they informed me that I was needed in the conference room in Building 1 right away. My mind raced as I wondered if I had done something wrong. I couldn't think of anything that would have led to this sudden summons.
I can feel my anxiety starting to creep in. “I'm not aware of what’s going on, Miss Y/L/N. I’ve just been told to inform you to come up here. It’s the conference room facing the front of the building.” I nod, but then realize they can’t see me. “Okay, I’ll be up there shortly.”
As we bid our farewells, my body starts to rebel. My heart races, my head throbs, and my hands tremble. I grab my belongings, preparing for the worst – getting fired. The short ride to Building 1 feels like an eternity as I battle my escalating anxiety. Upon parking, I make my way to the main entrance. Climbing the stairs, I unexpectedly encounter our CEO at the top. If my anxiety was bad before, it's now off the charts. I attempt to calm my racing heart, but it feels like it's about to burst out of my chest.
“Good Afternoon Miss Y/N," she said with a bright smile. I did my best to smile back, but my nerves were evident. "I'm sorry to call you up here, but there are some people who would like to talk to you." I froze up again, but this time for a completely different reason. "So then I'm not getting fired?”
"Oh heavens no! You're one of our top employees!" I let out a breath I was holding, then I remembered what she had just said. "Wait, who's here to see me?" She beamed and said, "Why don't you go see for yourself? It's the last door to your left. Take your time. Your boss knows where you are. Just let them know when you're done." I thanked her and took a few deep breaths. ‘I wasn't getting fired, but who could be waiting for me?’
As I walked to the door and opened it, I was greeted by a group of people I had never met before. To my surprise, they were all from Korea. I flashed a smile and said hello, and they returned the gesture, acknowledging my presence. After introducing themselves, I took a seat at the opposite end of the table.
"I'm sure you're curious about why we've come to see you." I chuckle softly. “I couldn't help but feel like I was getting fired today," I admitted. "We're sorry for the inconvenience. We came earlier this morning, but we were told you didn't start until later, so we had to leave and come back.” one of the ladies added.
“It's alright. I never imagined someone would come looking for me at my workplace.”
“I'm pretty sure you got a call from us a few weeks back," I nodded. "Yeah, I did. I did send an email in response later, but with work and the channel taking up most of my time, I just haven't had the chance to get back to you.”
“The channel is the reason why we're here.” I look to them in confusion. “In South Korea, you are one of the most popular channels. We have a diagram to show you.” They gave me a diagram that shows all the most watched people and/or channels in South Korea and I'm within the Top 5. Looking to the side, I see all the names of the people who are also listed along with the dates of when this was recorded.
“We've been keeping an eye on your channel for a while, and we're enjoying your content. Have you ever calculated how much you typically earn from your videos?" I pause and meet the man's gaze. "It all depends on the views I get. It can range from $150 to $500 per day and $5,000 to $9,000 per month. It varies based on the video.”
“How much are you pulling in at this job?”
"This job has the potential to bring in (your weekly earnings/twice a week) before taxes, and around (your weekly earnings/twice a week) after taxes. Any overtime you put in could really boost those numbers!" He nods in agreement and shifts his gaze to a stack of papers sitting on the table.
The conversation took an unexpected turn as the women across the table revealed their intentions. "We're here to offer you a job with us," one of them stated. I couldn't hide my surprise, "You want me to work for you?" The room filled with laughter as one of the ladies replied, "Yes, we would like you to work for us. We know it may seem surprising to you, but to us, it's quite simple. You see, there are multiple companies, including Music Industries like JYPE, who are interested in hiring you. That diagram we have isn't just to tell you that the majority of your viewers are in South Korea. It's to show you how popular you are in South Korea. In a sense, you could be just as popular as K-pop idols, if not more."
As I heard those words, I felt like my head was about to explode. The thought of being as popular as K-pop idols seemed too far-fetched to be true. However, as I glanced back at the diagram, a part of me started to see how it could make sense. After all, numbers don't lie. When I looked up again, I noticed that everyone around me had gentle smiles on their faces.
“So, what exactly are you hiring me for?” The gentleman to the far left speaks up. “That’s where I come in,” he begins. He proceeds to outline their proposal to bring me on board as a full-time content creator. The position would require me to relocate to South Korea and would come with a dedicated space for shooting videos. This would be a significant upgrade compared to the limited space I currently have in my room. Additionally, they offered me a part-time editing role when I'm not creating new content. Both positions came with generous compensation, but the amount they were willing to pay for my videos was almost beyond belief.
"Wait, $9,000 to $15,000 per video?!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My eyes must have nearly popped out of my head. Typically, a video with 150,000 views a day would earn around $620 to $1,035. On top of that, they were offering to pay me for each video, in addition to my regular YouTube earnings. It was hard to wrap my head around why they would offer so much. Finally, I couldn't hold it in any longer, and I asked the one question that had been consuming my thoughts all along.
“Why does it feel like everyone is trying to fight over me in some way? I mean, take a look at this diagram." *Showing them the diagram* "I get that I'm supposedly very well known over there, but why pay someone so much for videos that never get paid that much?”
The gentleman positioned in the center let out a small sigh before responding. "Due to your widespread popularity, everyone desires to have you working for them. It's a way of demonstrating that 'My company has become even more popular now that I have y/c/n working with me.' That's essentially what it signifies."
"So, essentially, that's your intention here. You want to have me under your company name to help your business expand." They all nod, and I turn my gaze to the left. "But what guarantee do I have that another company won't come along and offer me a better opportunity? What about that?" Before they can reply, I speak up again.
“Listen, I appreciate the offer, but I won't engage in this if it's solely about gaining popularity. I value my worth as a human being and refuse to be objectified or treated as a trophy. If I decide to pursue this, it will be on my terms. I'll only associate with a company that respects me as an individual, values my content creation, and allows me to work on my terms. I might consider additional projects in my spare time, but my integrity as a content creator mustn't be exploited. I seek a professional partnership without the need for flaunting or seeking fame.”
“We are committed to supporting your growth. Rather than simply showcasing you, we want to nurture your potential within our company. Your creativity and dedication could lead you to a producer role here. If necessary, we are open to adjusting the contract terms to better suit your needs. We envision a promising future for you, not only within our company but also in your personal life.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Four days have passed, and here I am at my grandparent's house with most of my immediate family. We're gathered around, discussing the contract I've been revising with the company. They've been cooperative, working with me to include what I want and exclude what I don't want in the contract.
The updated contract sparked a lively discussion, or rather a heated debate, among my family members. Initially, they were all thrilled when I shared the news. Well, almost all of them. The mood quickly soured when I mentioned that I would have to move to South Korea.
“Why do you need to move? Can't you just remain here?”
“Why are they offering her such generous compensation?”
“It's likely a ploy to entice her into joining their team.”
“Have you considered the potential risk of experiencing a similar episode to your last one at WD? You've never had the experience of living independently, and the one time you did, you struggled to fulfill your financial obligations.”
“How are you planning to support yourself? Will the income be enough to cover your expenses?”
I excused myself and made my way to the back porch, hoping for a moment of peace. As I sank into the couch, I couldn't shake off the feeling that things were spiraling out of control. Just a few days ago, I had left the conference room on cloud nine, but now everything seemed to be falling apart.
It's tough to admit, but I've always been a people pleaser. I've spent my life doing what others thought was best for me, even when it made me unhappy. When I finally mustered the courage to pursue my passion and start my own channel, my family didn't support me. It was disheartening, and almost made me give up before I even started. However, with the encouragement of a few close friends, I found the strength to pursue my dreams. And now, I'm proud of how far I've come.
As I reflected on their questions and concerns, I found myself contemplating aspects that hadn't crossed my mind, such as the possibility of this opportunity being a scam. My once-envisioned dream job now seemed to be losing its luster. Just as my thoughts started to spiral, a familiar figure emerged to join me outside. I desperately needed to avoid any further negative discussions about the situation. Surprisingly, it was my stepmother (or someone equally close to me). Despite not being my biological mother, she has consistently been my pillar of support when others have fallen short.
“Hey there, are you holding up okay?" I give a small nod. "I'm hanging in there, I guess. I get why they're worried about this, but every time I start feeling a little hopeful, they shoot it down. I even spoke to the company about delaying my relocation, but they refuse to listen. It's like they don't hear me at all." I pause, looking at her, struggling to hold back tears. "Just once, I wish they could be happy for me. I'm finally making progress in my life, and I just want their support, not their doubts.”
As tears streamed down my face, my stepmom did her best to wipe them away. She pulled me close, and it was as if all the emotions I had held in for so long came rushing out. After I finally composed myself, she gently pulled away and looked at me with concern.
"There's absolutely nothing wrong with you Y/N. You know your grandparents and your dad adore you and would do anything to see you happy. I've always encouraged you to pursue your dreams and not let anyone hold you back. I still stand by that. I understand they may not be thrilled about you moving away, but if it means living the life you've always envisioned, then go for it. You know we'll always be in your corner, no matter what. Our collective wish is for you to find genuine happiness. Don't let their words steal your joy, okay?" With a nod, I couldn't help but smile a little brighter.
When we returned inside, everything had calmed down. They expressed their happiness for me and their concern about me being so far away. My stepmom even seemed to have said something to them before she emerged, as she winked at me when I turned to her.
I thought long and hard about it, but in the end, I took the leap and reached out to the company, letting them know I was ready to dive in. Within a week, I had the contract in hand, and soon after, I was receiving payment for the videos I'd already uploaded. Two weeks later, I handed in my notice at my job and officially transitioned to working full-time from home. I made it clear that I wanted to secure a place in South Korea near the company before making the final move, ensuring all my belongings were shipped across the seas.
In just one month, I'll be making the official move to South Korea! I couldn't be more thrilled about this incredible opportunity!
#lee know#bang chan#changbin#han jisung#hyunjin#jeongin#lee felix#seungmin#stray kids#stray kids x reader#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x you#skz x y/n#skz x you#skz x reader#skz fanfic#skz imagines#skz scenarios#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#lee felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#y/n
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
[A sad violin song plays over an image of a sad hamster]
Pac: This doesn't have anything to do with me – I wear a blue sweatshirt, you're crazy, this mouse doesn't even have a sweatshirt, this hamster! [Reading chat] Am I a depressed hamster?
[ Transcript continued ↓ ]*
–
Pac: Actually– that's fine! I embrace that idea – of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy? [He hits his desk, then starts counting off people on his fingers] Fit is gone, Richarlyson is gone, Ramon is gone, Bagi and Empanada who were always there when we were there are also gone, I haven't seen them! It's just me and Tubbo, and sometimes Philza shows up.
Pac: I lost Chume Labs, I lost the Favela, I lost Murder Mystery, I lost Ilha Chume Labs, it's crazy! Look at how much I've lost, and I've gained nothing! Of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy?! How am I supposed to be happy?!
Pac: [Reading chat] "You have us Pac," that's true, thank you. No, that's true, sorry.
* NOTE: Please note that this is an incomplete transcript, as I was primarily relying on Aypierre's translation mod at the time and if I am not confident of the translation, I do not include it. As always, please feel free to add on translations or message me corrections.
#Pactw#QSMP#Pac#March 18 2024#As much as I love keeping people updated about Pac / the other Portuguese-speaking creators#I think I might not make as many transcribed posts for their clips anymore#I just don't think I'm qualified enough to be transcribing things for a language I don't know#like yeah we have the Qlobal Translator and Aypierre's translators to rely on#And I'm always upfront when I'm not 100% sure about a translation#but I've been thinking about it a lot and it kinda makes me feel a bit icky. Idk.#I might be overthinking this but I just I don't want to spread around translations I'm not super confident about#esp. since I know a lot of people cite my clips in analysis posts or link them to other people as resources#and 90% of the time I'm like ''Hell yeah I love seeing people getting a lot of use out of the archive''#but sometimes I get a bit anxious like ''Did I do a good enough job translating this''#''Am I ruining someone's entire perception of a conversation or character because I left one word out or mistranslated something?''#And like I said that's normally not a HUGE concern since if I'm not certain about a translation I just won't post a clip. but you know#idk it might just be the anxiety talking but I really really don't want to spread bad info#Happy to hear other folks' perspective#I'm really grateful for people like Bell and Pix and others who translate clips and I always try to reblog those#but we don't have a ton of people posting clips & translating things on Tumblr since we're so English-centric#which is part of the reason WHY I like sharing clips of the non-English-speaking CCs#but at the same time I want to do an accurate job representing what they're saying#Maybe I'll just start posting things and give a TLDR context of what they're talking about but not a transcript#that way native-speakers can hop in and add translations if that's something they're comfortable doing#and if not then well. at least I'm not sharing something that isn't super accurate#idk I'm just thinking out loud a bit in the tags#But I'm open to hearing other people's thoughts on the matter#Anyways giant rant aside. q!Pac is NOT doing ok rn
251 notes
·
View notes
Text
Various tones of BnB sillies
#tf2#art#tf2 demoman#tf2 soldier#boots n bombs#demosolly#team fortress 2#tf2 fanart#artwork#quotidianish#I spent 13 hours o these bad boys. I hate art#Idk man. I feel like the war exacerbated both their former anxieties probably. Soldier is deluded thinking everyone is working against him#and demo just feels because of his stupidity he can't make any good thing last. Or he's dispensable and not worth keeping.#It Leads them both to shut themselves off from whatever friendships they might have had prior#Even worse I think they were working through these thoughts together as their friendship progressed supporting eachother throughout it all#before something out of their control strongly affirms these ideas in a way they won't try and investigatebecause they already have a-#-pre arranged reason#INSANITY.
360 notes
·
View notes
Text
Steven Universe discourse still cracks me up like
Y'all got a show made by people who clearly love doing their job with explicit LGBT+ rep including non-binary rep and a majority female cast with a variety of body types and with multiple women POC voice actors regarding topics like mindfulness meditation, forgiveness, trauma, PTSD, establishing boundaries within relationships, compassion, with an overall message of forgiveness
And yet y'all seemed to wish for the series' demise at every moment and complained about the most insignificant details like that the storyboard artists had slightly inconsistent art styles
The messages and characters are so complex and compelling and the show gets you to think about difficult concepts and topics which flew over people's heads completely
People still think Steven should've idk wiped out the Diamonds? In the show where the whole message is that people are complicated representations of their experiences and trauma and people deserve second chances?
Idk I feel like a lot of "fans" who start discourse don't actually like the show, otherwise they'd actually absorb the basic premise of it
#SU paved the way for lgbt+ rep in modern cartoons#it's such a massive contender in that movement#they put Ruby in a dress so other countries couldn't censor an openly gay wedding#they out loud labeled anf explained what being non-binary is#i could go on for hours#is the series perfect? of course not#people aren't perfect#but it's a damn good show that touched on incredibly important topics and broadcasted that to kids#and gave them the opportunity to experience not just lgbt+ rep but also#rep for all sorts of mental health topics. good and bad#and so many people wanted that shit to sink#amazing#'wow they gave so much screentime to PEARL who is WHITE'#1. she's an alien rock creature#2. she was enslaved. she was brainwashed. she was traumatized.#her rep was so so so important#she illuminated the fallout of toxic relationships#and anxiety. like????? fbiddksbdkagf#it fucking baffles me that the queer tumblr population got a show tailored to them then ripped it apart for no good reason
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
yall wanna know how fucked up my anxiety is about some shit
i scroll past a post that's about a topic i don't like. whatever, it's fine. i scroll past a video that's a topic i don't care about. that's normal.
i scroll past a video that's a topic i don't like or care about but the person presenting it is a person of color? i IMMEDIATELY feel immensely guilty and need to "compensate" by "proving" it wasn't because of race by also skipping other random posts, JUST IN CASE someone thinks I'm racist because I didn't want to watch a video on a topic I didn't like or care about, that happened to be presented by a person of color.
this just in on: the police in my brain are loud and i'm scared of them
#this is also because i grew up in a racist area and in that culture and my own ignorance i also Was Kinda Racist#but like in that way where you don't realize it's racism until you're out of it and now feel so ashamed that you forcefully block all#those memories just so you don't ever have to associate yourself with them ever again?#(mind you I was like. 15-16 and closeted and scared scared scared all the time so I acted like the Crowd and that was awful of me to do)#BUT NOW that i've grown and am learning and have taken classes on anthropology and all kinds of stuff I just feel like I notice my own shit#like TENFOLD now#it's my anxiety overthinking thing plus if anybody ever knows I could have done anything SLIGHTLY problematic the world will explode#plus my constant paranoia that someone is always watching me and just Knows that I'm Secretly a Bad Person (even though I don't think I am?#also I feel like I need to clarify that the kind of racism in my town wasn't like. klan shit. it was like very hidden racism?#it was like. kids casually doing black accents and making jokes with racist undertones. the kind of racism where race was always#the butt of the joke instead of an outright HATED thing. and I think that's why it was so hard to unlearn#it's like that thing where in order to stop wanting to kill yourself you have to stop joking about wanting to kill yourself#this has become a vent post accidentally i'm so sorry#this is just. one of my Major anxieties that engulfs me every day because of 1) anxiety 2) potential OCD 3) being a bad person in my past#this is another reason I fucking hate florida#because I just know if I had grown up in my home town in MI I would not have been raised in that environment#and it's my own fucking fault for falling into the crowd like that.#all this to say i traumatized myself and likely some people around me by being A Fucking Idiot when I was a kid#and now adult me is doing everything in their power to not ever be that person ever fucking again#tw vent post#tw racism#tw past racism#but im better now and I know my mistakes and I refuse to make them again#fuck florida for every fucking reason under the sun
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go
(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)
#today's gone Badly and i'm upset but instead of venting abt it i'm gonna channel that energy into doing a bit of tag rambling abt Boothill#well. less abt Him and more abt uh. self-analyzing my anxiety surrounding contributing to fandoms. he's just today's catalyst#like. i know it's mostly a me thing. i'm hypersensitive to criticism and very conflict avoidant + socially anxious + perfectionistic etc.#so I'm the one that keeps myself from posting more stuff out of fear of being criticized or called-out for what i've made#bc inevitably Someone's gonna see it and think its OOC or a problematic take or they'll misread my intent. etc etc what have you#but like. that's inevitable. there's no way to communicate every single thing with all of the nuance required to avoid misunderstandings#and other times it's not a misunderstanding it's just a difference of opinions and that's Fine!! there's no accounting for personal taste#there's no accounting for several things actually. taste‚ bias‚ lore-knowledge‚ differing levels of chronic-online-ness‚ etc#so this isn't me complaining abt the state of fandom culture (although i do think. sometimes. ppl take shit a bit too seriously)#but anyways all of this is mostly just anxiety-fueled. it's not like i very often actually even receive negative feedback or anything#if anything ppl tend to tell me that i'm overthinking it and killing my own fun and worried that my stuff is more OOC than it is#which like. yeah. Yeah u right :) but that's just the way that i am! always losing the idgaf war i suppose#anyways what's Boothill got to do w this ur wondering. well. i've been thinking abt the quickly emerging concept that he's illiterate.#and it just. has me feeling a lot of ways. and watching ppl disagree over it has me feeling some Bad ways. bc it's def a loaded topic!#if you'll pardon the pun there. and i don't rlly have anything new to add other than that i'm conflicted abt it.#like yeah i saw the leaks days ago. of him mentioning 'not hitting the books' much as a child when we ask him why he sends voice messages#or voice Transcriptions ig. ykwim. and like. *braces for impact* ...i liked it? like. it doesn't feel right to call it endearing#i'm not trying to infantilize him. ok that's not the right word either but ugh. you know? what i mean?? who am i kidding even i don't know#it's not quite right to say that it feels like Representation either. but it's something close i guess#as a southern person myself who didn't receive a 'complete' education due to factors that weren't to do with my intelligence#the concept of seeing him as a capable force to be reckoned with and respected who also happens to have not received much formal education#i like that. i do. but there's so many issues w it at the same time. like. as i said‚ being southern myself has me Wary of the way Hoyo is-#writing him. as well as of the way that the fandom is taking the bits of his lore and running away w them. and i'm Very aware of how ppl-#will see a southern character and be All Too Eager to agree that they're lacking intelligence based on our Redneck™ stereotype#sigh. and before we even go too far with this. it's not even confirmed that hes completely illiterate. which is a valid criticism i've seen#there's Multiple reasons that could make him prefer voice to text. but regardless. i'm just worried that ppl will misconstrue my intentions#like. example: that edit i made the other day of him saying 'no thanks i can't read'. wasn't me playing into the stereotype of-#'haha dumb country boy can't read!' it was. in my eyes. something he'd say as a joke to make light of a potential insecurity#like. i think there's far more depth to Boothill's character if ppl could look past the surface. and i dont wanna contribute to the problem#but sometimes ppl Will have stereotypical traits and i wish the same could apply to characters as long as it's done Thoughtfully.
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
i think i've said this before but i used to really not Understand or like timmy and helia being best friends but it really grew on me over time. obviously their main bestie is tecna and flora respectively, but specifically for just the specialists, i really like them now.
i just tend to think about timmy being this really self-conscious guy who is constantly being looked down on by his peers and even his crush, who is so committed to being a specialist but starts to doubt if he's worthy, who wants so badly to have a Special Someone who understands him,,, being put into this team where two of the members are already best friends and have an insane amount of history and loyalty to each and you can't just Get in the middle of that and the other guy is really, really stuck in his I Don't Need Friends They Disappoint Me Stage. like,,, the loneliness? the loneliness of not having a Best Friend on the team? then he finds tecna but even she starts to look down on him?
like,,, the toll that would take on someone is,,, not fun to think about. while they may not have a lot of scenes together, timelia being best friends is honestly so cute and makes so much sense. timmy had to put up with so much bullshit from the specialists (affectionate), finding someone who isn't going to look down on you, or doubt you, or always think of you as a Secondary Friend is So Important and that's such a big aspect of their friendship. timmy really trusts helia! and you can see this especially in the comics when he gets so mad that helia leaves. he's literally never acted like that with any of the other specialists! in the show or in the comics, timmy may get a little sad, but he never gets that angry and that desperate to contact whoever left. it just,,, says so much about him,,,
like timmy gets painted a lot as this nerd who only cares about tecna (and like. yes. true) but more than that, he's a very sensitive and caring guy who yearns for deep, trusting relationships. tecna is 100% his best friend and special person, but the friendship that timmy builds with the specialists and even the other winx is so important. he craved close relationships so much,,, and it's so nice that they didn't go into the loser lonely nerd trope.
i just really like that timmy was able to find friends that truly respect and love him. and specifically timmy being best friends with helia makes so much sense when you stop thinking about their interests and personalities, and instead think about how much the two of them craved people they could trust, people who would never make them feel less than, people who wouldn't treat them like backup friends, people they could actually connect to. it's just,,, they're so important to me actually <3
#ik everyone hates later seasons but i really love that later comic issue with timmy's birthday#i feel like that shows So Much#like.. timmy is self-conscious yes he doubts himself yes#but so much of that is based of what other people think of him and not necessarily what he thinks of himself#i feel like for the most part timmy is pretty secure in his knowledge and abilities#he knows what he can do!#but the anxiety that other people would look down on him? or think he's not as good? not as worthy?#That's what gets him#and like helia has Never made timmy feel that way and i think thats a big reason why timmy latched onto him#like obviously timmy fully forgave tecna and there's no bad blood there#but he does still get anxious about her thinking he's not good enough. not smart enough. not strong enough. not brave enough#like. it scares him!#and while the specialists respect timmy a lot we know that he gets that fear with them too#but as far as we know that really doesnt happen with helia#like.. helia is shown to comfort timmy a lot so i think that helps#but timmy just doesnt feel anxious around helia which is So Important for him#i just... they <3#winx helia#winx timmy#long post
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
U know when ur brain is Like That and whatever it is you have to eat is suddenly Illegal???
#the duality of fran#ughhhhh i am upset with myself#i have issues with leftovers. just generally#so mostly i only ever cool things i can tolerate as leftover#i have the last batch of that pumpkin soup#that i do NOT want to eat and its all gross and it's not like. rotten#but trying to force myself to eat it sounds like hell rn#but also guilt complex abt food yknow????#im not doing anyonr any favours by just skipping lunch bc my brain hates the thought of it rn#i think. I'm just gonna have to toss it. eaf a granola bar (i always carry some for this reason)#and then. try to forgive myself. eat a proper dinner#i think i hate depression food obessions more than i hate the actual depression sometimes#ughhh and i have to meal plan#i go insane if i eat the same thing always but i also get so nervous trying new foods#bc my mother lives in my brain and yells at me anytime anything turns out bad or where i cant force myself to eat it#i only ever try things that im 90% sure I'll like#And still.#unfortunately. i am realizing my mother left me with major food anxieties#just not in the usual ED way. i got the guilt complex food waste if i don't clear my plate im sinning way#if leftovers go bad? or produce molds before i can use it? im satan incarnate#BUT ONLY ME. EVERYONE ELSE IS FINE. THIS STANDARD ONLY APPLIES TO ME
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hey random but if there's anything I'm ever somehow being disrespectful about or saying incorrectly or doing wrong things, PLEASE let me know because chances are I have absolutely no idea. Because the last thing I want to do is something disrespectful or offensive
#i guess I'm thinking about this because like#there's the whole thing where people are misusing the term of autism i guess and even just equating it to normal weird quirks#and making these jokes and such#and there was all this stuff i knew but I don't know how much is legit#i thought i was on the autism spectrum for a long time#I still wonder but#i did do some dumb little quizzes for a dr (who didn't even normally do stuff like this i think) and the results were that I'm not hut who#knows of the accuracy#and it left me feeling bad because a lot of traits of myself i thought were similar to being on the autism spectrum#and even then i think I'm weird and have weird traits in general and was discouraged i didn't have like. a reason for why I'm weird the way#i am. and if I'm not i really don't want to be saying anything i shouldn't. before I was just mostly following what everyone around me was#saying#am i allowed to say hyperfixations?? can i have those if I'm not? because i definitely have those#i don't want to make any ignorant jokes or statements#who knows if i sit anywhere on that spectrum (even my mom thinks i do) but if i don't. i just want to be careful#i do have very high anxiety AND ocd if that means anything#those are confirmed#sock talk
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
The seasonal depression + major life stress to agoraphobia relapse pipeline is kicking my ass
#the adhd & demand avoidance don’t help any either#I end up wanting to avoid responsibilities out of spite and bc I’m time blind I don’t even notice how many days I’ve gone without leaving#the house#by the time you add the actual depression and anxiety and trauma I’m already struggling#it’s gotten so hard to go to shabbat services on friday nights bc it’s dark at 4:30 and the temple is in the middle of downtown#in not the safest area and there’s almost no parking#(to be clear it’s not just anxiety or fear preventing me from going. it’s hard to want to go anywhere when it’s dark and cold for normal#human reasons)#but still#i hate being in a position where I feel like I have to assume the worst of other human beings#bc that’s just. not who I am. its incongruent with who I am to walk down the street and assume people are bad and want to hurt me#that’s not a judgement I’d ever want to make lightly#even if I’ve also always been hypervigilant (it’s complicated ig)#(really feel like my nervous system has just not been able to fully stabilize for the past six weeks. it’s already such a hard time of year#for me and with recent events on top of that…)#anyway. I need to start planning ways to leave the house ig.#agoraphobia
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
The want and urge to animate an eldritch horror Danny Phantom is so strong and yet I don’t have the artistic skill or knowledge of particular types of animation to fully do the idea in my mind justice
#bones speaks#you know that one arg channel? _Boisvert#that one#the angel from that#that’s the best way to describe what’s going on in my head#I feel the need to animate and not draw it bc drawing it won’t show the extent of the *wrongness* ya know#angels say ‘be not afraid’ for a damn reason when first meeting people and I need Danny to have the same vibe#sorta holy or divine and visually goes beyond human comprehension so much so that we can only see what our brain can best process#which is to say: some creepy ass bullshit of an amalgam horror creature of colossal size and power#When I look at Eldritch Horror Danny it needs to be so much overstimulation of shit going on that I instantly start dissociating#it needs to be so much at the same time that it genuinely makes you mentally break#if you check out that ARG channel: be warned that it’s main theme is depression and hopelessness. it may send you into a depressive spiral.#it has frightening and VERY unnerving imagery along with religious themes and gore and a LOT of staring#just so y’all know and I don’t accidentally make y’all dissociate or anythin cause that shit nearly instantly makes me lose touch w reality#like I should enjoy watching it bc it genuinely makes me feel bad and yet the curiosity of such an interesting take of the medium an just-#it’s just so cool ya know? stuff Beyond Comprehension and exsistential dread is just FASCINATING.#like Everywhere at the End of Time#that shit? instantly makes me have an anxiety attack and makes me off the rest of the day.#do I find it incredibly intriguing and on the occasion listen to it again knowing damn well that I’m setting myself up for a shitty day? yes#it’s just sO COOL#audio format of dementia is beautifully haunting. I worked for a time volunteering helping dimentia patients. some of them…#they were hollow. empty shells of a person that when I saw them all I could visualize was that awful static from the album just going on and#on forever. there was nothing left. that shit and morality scares the SHIT out of me and equally entices me#tw dissociation#tw memory loss#tw dementia
84 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
captainfinebuns
Trash Bin of Plants
therocketbeans-blog
24/7 Game One | Rocket Beans
kilmameri
general enthusiasm
cowardlybean
Reigen Arataka is a Looney Tunes Character
ninetyoneadventures
Ninety One Adventures