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#the way they cling to each other as he gets her up. the way they keep clinging to hold themselves steady
i-am-hungry-24-7 · 2 days
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[Two-way Trap] Simon “Ghost” Riley*F!Reader
Simon helps you when you tell him your boyfriend cheats on you, or that’s what you both thought.
cw: Simon and Reader aren’t too sane I guess
Simon hugs you tightly when you appear at his door, sobbing as you tell him someone sent you a video anonymously, of your boyfriend tangled with another woman, kissing each other so passionately that you feel nauseous.
He invites you to come in, brews a hot tea for you, lets you have a nice shower since you don’t want to go back to your shared flat with your boyfriend, makes you covered in his scent, drapes on a big hoodie that marks you as his secretly.
He coos softly as you, telling you that shitty man doesn’t deserve such a perfect girl like you, putting on comforting music so you can relax more against his body.
He leads you to the guest room, puts on a night lamp for you, and after you tuck yourself in the blanket, he promises he will always be by your side before he waves you goodnight. He wishes he could just put you on his bed and treat you like a princess, but take everything slow, he reminds himself when you look up at him with those innocent eyes.
He opens his phone when he’s back to his room, sending a message to your boyfriend — or his friend — thanking him for his cooperation, so that he can finally have his angel all to himself.
- - - - - -
You fake the tears when Simon opens his door, words about how your boyfriend who only got together 2 months cheats on you, and you receive a video from an unknown person proving his unholiness.
You manage not to respond too fast when Simon asks you to get in his house, and smears your body with his shower gel. You have the same brand at home because of your boyfriend, but it just feels different when you’re using Simon’s. Burying your face and sniffing at his hoodie when Simon turns around to bring you some tea.
You record the words he says with the phone in your pocket when you cling to him on the sofa, when he reassures you everything will be alright, that you have him and he will help you move out. Melting into arms, hoping he presumes you’re just too relaxed under the music, not that you try to cross the line between you and him.
You let Simon walk you to the guest room when it’s time to sleep. You lie on the bed, a bit unsatisfied that you aren’t sleeping on his bed, the guest room lacks his smell, which you already start missing as he stands at the door and wishes you sweet dreams, but take things slow, you remind yourself when he looks at you with such tender eyes.
You text the woman you hired to seduce your boyfriend after Simon shuts the door, thanking her for doing her job so well, send her the money with an extra tip and close the screen, smiling at the fact that you can finally have the man that should only be yours.
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svuguru · 2 days
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by any chance do you write for naoya 👉👈 ,,,big brother naoya and him with his sweet little obedient sister 👉👈 he makes her sit on his lap during a clan meeting or something public where he touches her secretly ahsgdjsgd;;;;;
Tags: incest!! Antis and minors DNI pleaseeee I’m not responsible for the content you do or do not consume!!! I know the meeting part isn’t like accurate and not how meetings go traditionally in the Zenin clan but whatever :3
Ee this is so cute 😭 okayyy but sitting on big bro Naoya’s lap maybe while at a meeting that’s supposed to be formal but he insists on letting his little sister sit on his lap… :< and of course they don’t say anything about it because he’s just so intimidating!??
But while they think you just share a very close, and innocently enough, relationship with each other, he has his big hand tucked underneath your skirt, two of his fingers slowly sliding in and out of your poor cunt, all while you’re trying to keep quiet so you don’t ruin this big opportunity for big bro Naoya.
Your juices paint his digits, clenching around them tightly while also trying to keep your breathing even and steady. Your hand clings onto his leg, occasional gasps falling from your lips that you pray no one notices.
“Can’t—“ you whisper in his ear after tilting your head back just a bit, a pout gracing your lips when Naoya laughs it off.
“Shh,” Naoya raises his other hand and presses his index finger to his lips, slowly shaking his head which makes you whine. In response, a cheeky grin tugs at his lips before he pays your cheek, turning his attention back to the meeting, keeping his digits slow and steady not only to keep the noises down, but also to fuck with you.
Naoya’s long fingers carefully sliding in and out of your wet pussy so casually as if this was just another Tuesday, your walls warm and tight around him. Your squirming doesn’t go unnoticed by everyone else in the room, but when someone brings it up, Naoya is quick to dismiss it, saying, “oh, sweet girl’s just a bit tired.” Yes, the way he addresses you is a bit… odd, but they don’t mention it.
“Too much…” you mumble as quietly as you can, attempting to subtly grind against your big brother’s wrist.
“Uh-uh, behave,” so you do, putting a halt to your hips but you do look down at his hand with a pout. “I know you can take it, be quiet, okay?”
“Mkay,” you huff and raise your wrists to your eyes to rub them. It’s too much, Naoya’s so mean for making his own sister keep quiet, right? Knowing what he’s doing, too!
“Tell you what,” he begins, “after this meeting, when we get home, I’ll give you eve you want, yeah? Only if you behave though.” In response to that, you eagerly nod your head, a wide smile falling upon your glossy lips. “Aw, that’s a good girl…”
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hearts4hughes · 2 days
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I HATE IT HERE | JACK HUGHES
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summary: in which her relationship with jack seems too good to be real. (0.7k words)
authors note: taylor really called out us delusional girlies and daydreamers with this song! it’s my favorite on the album and it deserves something so enjoy this very short writing!
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"come on, don't be scared," jack chuckles as he slowly guides you. you look down, a suspiciously nice pair of skates clad to your feet.
"i'm going to fall!" you squeal, attempting to mimic the way he skates.
his giggle fills the cold air surrounding you. after a day of cozying up together in jack’s lake house, he gets the bright idea that he wants to teach you how to skate. after going to the store and buying you a pair of skates— that he won’t specify the price of— he leads you outside onto the ice. it takes you about ten minutes to even step foot onto the frozen death trap. but with your boyfriend’s persuasive smile and adorable face, you land yourself on the ice, anxiously moving your feet side to side.
"you're fine," he says, his hand moving to your waist. in the cold michigan evening, his hand on your waist sends warmth up your spine.
it all feels too surreal. from the dusting of snow around you to the romantic atmosphere, you feel like you're in one of your favorite romance novels. it all feels too familiar, and at the same time, your eyes scan around you, trying to treasure the moment.
jack stares up at you with a toothy grin. he looks at you like you’re the only girl in the world; like you hung the stars in the sky.
“what are you looking at, rowdy?” you say with a smug expression. his face flushes a deep maroon and his eyes fall to the ground. “going shy on me now, are we?”
“i feel like you’re forgetting who’s teaching you how to skate right now.” his hand falls down your waist, giving your butt a squeeze. your bottom lip juts out as he lets out a boyish grin.
“shut up and show me how to move faster.” you retort, though a pink blush still lingers on your cheeks.
jack takes one hand off of your waist, turning his body and slowly demonstrating how he pushes his leg out at an angle. he swiftly picks up speed as you hold onto him. it looks so simple. all it is, is the movement of his legs and feet, but as you try it, you slip, clinging to jack’s body and pulling him down with you.
somehow, his body hits the ice first and you land on top of him. your eyes are wide as you both look at each other. as the realization of what happens sets in, you both bark out in laughter. you snuggle your face into the crook of his neck, an attempt to silence your laughter.
“i love you so damn much.” he says in pure awe.
“i love you so damn much!” you mock him, lifting your head from his chest and staring at him below you.
his cheeks are pink from the cold and his hair a wavy mess that not even the winter hat on his head can hide. your eyes flick down to his lips. they look so plump and kissable.
you lower face, stopping just an inch above his lips. he smirks, “what are you waiting for?” his words are barely above a whisper, eliciting butterflies in your stomach.
but just as your lips press against his, you hear a distant voice.
“y/n?” mr. samson, your ap history teacher, calls out. “are you paying attention?”
you blink, looking around the classroom. you’re in high school, not michigan, and the boy nearest to you is not jack hughes. the realization sets in, causing a pit in your stomach. you suddenly feel nauseous.
had you daydreamed about a relationship with jack hughes once again? no, you couldn’t have. it seemed so real; it felt so real. it was almost like you could feel jack’s hands on your waist, leaving a permanent stain of warmth around your hips.
you swallowed harshly as everyone’s eyes followed you awaiting an answer. “y-yes.” your voice was shaky. people in the back of the classroom snickered at you as others furrowed their brows. your skin felt hot with embarrassment. it was nothing like the flush you felt when jack complimented you.
“ok then.” mr. samson said as he continued his lesson.
you sighed, grabbing your pencil and copying down the notes on the board. you pushed back the recollections of your daydream, putting them into one of the many secret gardens in your mind. they would stay there patiently awaiting until you unlocked and relived them again.
if only.
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finelinefae · 9 hours
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match one [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]
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synopsis: y/n's struggling with harry's coaching before the first tournament and harry's feelings control him more than he controls them
word count: 10.2k
contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals, strict parents, fluff, harry being a boy and not being able control himself around y/n
this is part 2 of the game, read part 1 here
. . .
“Again,” 
Y/N gritted her teeth and bounced the tennis ball on the ground before throwing it into the air with a straight arm and hitting it with the racket, watching as it pierced through the air to the opposite end of the court. 
She heard a sigh come from the bench on the side of the court, “Again,” 
She inhaled sharply through her nose to try and contain her temper as she repeated the same serve. 
“Again,”
Y/N spun around on the heel of her New Balance trainers, her pleated, white skort twirling as she did. She crossed her arms and glared at the boy lying on his back in his school uniform which was now crinkled and unkempt after the school day. “You’re not even watching,” She replied for the first time after having done the same serve more than ten times already. 
“I don’t need to, I know you’re not doing it correctly,” He replied, monotonously. 
She clenched her jaw, “Well as my coach, aren’t you supposed to show me how I’m meant to do it correctly?”
“I can show you but it won’t change anything,” He said. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He sighs and sits up, “You already know how to do a flat serve, I’ve seen you do it. You’re just not hitting it hard enough. I can hear it in the way the ball lands on the other end of the court.” 
“You could have just told me to hit it harder,” She retorts. 
“Am I meant to play the game for you as well?” He quips which makes her blood boil. 
This was their third training session, and Y/N had reached her limit. With her first proper tournament just three weeks away, she had hoped that seeking help from the best tennis player at Crestwood would elevate her gameplay. 
However, Y/N was getting frustrated with each session being a monotonous repetition of drills she had already learnt herself. It grated on her nerves and she felt as though she was back to square one. 
She was beginning to regret having enlisted Harry for his mentoring in the first place. Whenever they’d try to talk mutually to each other, it would just end up in an argument of some kind where they’d end up needing ten minutes to cool off.
Y/N had already qualified for the Academy Slam before she even asked Harry to coach her. There had originally been sixteen academies from the surrounding counties competing in the games and now there were only half and Y/N was one of them. She’d passed the qualifiers all by herself and maybe she could pass the games that way too.
“Again,” He said that one word Y/N was beginning to hate. 
Who knew what she was capable of if she had to hear that word one more time. 
Feeling a surge of anger, Y/N tossed the ball into the air and hit it with all the strength she could possibly summon. She watched as the ball made a fast and straight trajectory towards her target area which just so happened to be right beside Harry’s place on the bench. 
He jumped up, a look of surprise on his face. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed, eyes following the ball as it hit the fence.
Y/N's smirk wavered as he approached her, her surprise matching his when he spoke again. "Let's move on, shall we?"
By the end of the session, every inch of Y/N's body throbbed with exhaustion. She drained an entire water bottle in one go, her fitted polo shirt clinging to her damp skin. She had thought she'd engaged every muscle in her body, but the way her calves screamed at her with every step told a different story.
“Same time tomorrow?” Harry asked, standing above her and blocking the sunlight. 
“I want to start training properly,” Y/N stated.
“We are training properly,” He argued. 
“You realize you haven’t shown me a single tactic since you started coaching me right?”
“And?” 
“How am I meant to win the first tournament if all I know how to do is basic drills?” 
“Do you know how many times my coach made me practice flat serves before we could move on?” He asks but she doesn’t answer, “A month. I went home with blisters on my hands because I was doing them non-stop six hours a day.”
Y/N’s eyebrows raise, “You think tennis is just about being tactical then you’re not playing it properly. The only way you’ll ever be a good tennis player is if you master the techniques.” He explains, “I’ve seen you play Y/N. For someone who has never had professional coaching, you are one of the best players I’ve seen but you lack confidence in your technique. That flat serve you just aimed at me? One of the best flat serves I’ve seen in a while. If you can do that in every game, you’ll have no problem winning but if you want tactics? I can draw you a diagram and it’ll save two hours of my day no problem.” 
Y/N tries not to show her surprise at his words. Instead, she takes them all in, “Shouldn’t we at least be analysing my opponent?”
She was playing against Vanya Maddison in her next game. She was tall which was a major advantage in the game but her spatial awareness wasn’t exactly on par. 
“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.
“My speed?” Y/N frowned. 
“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.” 
Y/N had no idea whether to take it as a compliment or not. She’d never heard Harry say anything good about her so was taken off guard by his words. “So are we still on for tomorrow because I have to meet Mitch in thirty minutes and if the answer is no at least I can actually plan on getting wasted tonight.” 
Y/N took a moment to think. She had never expected him to say something positive about her, especially about her anger. It was a side of herself she often struggled to control, but hearing Harry acknowledge it as a strength left her feeling conflicted.
As much as she considered training on her own which would give her some peace and quiet, she wanted to see where her training with Harry would go. If he was right, maybe she’d actually have more of a chance of winning than she did on her own. 
She stood up and put her gym bag over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow,” She walked past him, wanting to avoid the satisfied grin on his face. 
“Y/N!” Harry called, she could hear him jogging towards her before she stepped out of the courts, “I wanted to give this to you.”
He placed in her hands a cassette tape with white masking tape on it with the words ‘Y/N’s theme songs’ scribbled onto it in black ink. “What is this?” She asked, looking up at him.
“When I was in Australia, I used music to help me get in the zone before a match. My coach told me to use a cassette tape because phones were too distracting,” He explained. 
“You made this for me?” She frowned.
“What? You’ve never been given a gift before?” He chuckles. 
Y/N looks down at the plastic in her hands. It’s not that she’d never been given a gift by anyone before- she and Sarah always exchanged gifts over Christmas and for each other’s birthdays- but it was rare for her to ever receive anything from anyone else. Her parents would often give her practical things at Christmas or transfer money into her bank account on birthdays. 
Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at her lack of reply but she cleared her throat, “I don’t have a cassette player,” She said but Harry quickly removed his backpack and pulled out a walkman. 
“You can borrow mine,” He handed it over to her, “I won’t be needing it anytime soon since I’m not playing,” She noticed the downcast look in his eyes as he mentioned the fact he wasn’t currently able to play with his injury. 
“Um, t-thanks?” She said, unsure of how to respond to his sudden kindness. It felt unusual. 
“I picked a few songs that reminded me of you,” He smirks, “Don’t worry, they’re not all about a girl with an attitude problem.” With that he turned back around and walked towards the other exit to head to the car park. 
She felt ease on her chest as the usual teasing remarks returned, “Asshole,” She called out to him to which he just put his middle finger up in reply. 
. . . 
After taking a long shower in the girl’s shower rooms in her dorm block, Y/N headed back to her dorm after changing into a white shirt and sweatpants. She could feel the strain in her arms and legs as she flopped down onto her bed. 
Luckily Sarah wasn’t back from spending time with Mitch, so she took in the peace and quiet which came rare to her these days as all her mind had been on recently was the Academy Slam. 
Her mind wandered off to Harry and his words from earlier. Y/N knew she was a good tennis player but it was the first time she had heard someone else tell her that. She wasn’t expecting it, especially not from her tennis rival of the past ten years. 
Her eyes glanced at the cassette tape and the walkman she had placed on her desk before she headed off to the shower. Sitting up, she grabbed it and stared down at it for a moment before putting the cassette into the player and putting the headphones on. 
She laid back on her bed and looked up at the ceiling of her room. Her fingers hit the play button and the first song began to flood her ears. The first few beats of Nelly Furtado’s ‘Maneater’ began to play and she immediately rolled her eyes. Then afterwards, ‘Fergalicious’ by Fergie. 
She wondered how many songs Harry had managed to put on the cassette and how many were female anthems of empowerment. 
The next song seemed to catch her attention even further when Gorillaz ‘She’s my collar’ began to play. The beat now permanently injected into her bloodstream along with the rest of the album from the number of times she had listened to it. 
She wondered if Harry had known he had included a song by one of her favourite bands and whether he knew the meaning behind the song too. Maybe it had been a coincidence which was a thought Y/N had decided to settle on as she listened to the rest of the song. 
‘Nothing to be justified yet
She the first I'm running with
She the one that get my collar
She the one I'm running with (she's my collar)’
. . . 
The next day at school, Y/N sat in the library during her study period to study for her biology exam at the end of the week. Even though she was set on the scholarship, she still needed something to fall back on if she lost out in the next few games so she made sure she was still getting the best grades she could. It had also been ingrained in her to be the best in every class and she didn’t think that trait of hers would ever leave her. 
“Y/N!” Sarah called, her voice echoing within the silence of the library.
Ignoring the irritated glances she received, she paced towards Y/N and sat in the empty seat beside her. Y/N smiled at her friend’s excitement. They were foils to each other and that’s what made them get on so well. Whilst Y/N had a black cat personality, Sarah was sunshine in a person which was probably why she was so perfect for Mitch who was equally as bright. “What’s up?”
“I need to ask you something and you’re probably going to hate me but Harry’s already said yes and-”
“Sarah,” Y/N placed her hands on her shoulders, “Breathe.”
Sarah did exactly that before continuing, “Would you do a feature with Harry for the school newspaper?” 
Y/N frowned, “What?”
“The school newspaper? You know the club I’ve been part of for the past two years? They want to do a feature on your training for the sports section and I told them I would ask you.” Sarah explained. 
“Oh I don’t know about that-”
“Pleeeassseee,” Sarah gripped her arm that was resting on the desk and batted her eyelashes.
“You know I’d do anything for you Sarah but I don’t know if I have the time and my focus is on my next game,” Y/N replied. 
“Harry’s already said yes to it,” Sarah interjected.
“You asked him before me?” 
“Well actually,” Sarah hesitated, “Luke, the boy who’s writing the article, asked him this morning,”
“Why didn’t he ask me?” 
Sarah gave her a pointed look, “You’re not exactly the most approachable,” Y/N’s frown deepened at her words, “So will you do it?” 
Y/N sighed, considering it before giving Sarah an answer. The last thing she wanted was for someone to be asking unnecessary questions in time that could be used to train for the first round of the competition but Sarah was her best friend and she knew how much the school newspaper meant to her and her university applications too. 
“Alright,” She relented, “I’ll do it.”
Sarah squealed, receiving another round of vicious glares from other students in the library. Her arms wrapped around her in a tight hug, “Thank you,” She pulled away, “They’ll come by tomorrow afternoon during practice, is that okay?” Y/N nodded a response.
. . . 
It was raining outside. 
Y/N’s eyes stared out the window as she bounced a tennis ball on the hard floor of the gymnasium and wondered if the weather foreshadowed the next hour. 
“Will you sit down?” Harry muttered, “You’re giving me a headache,” 
“He’s late,” Y/N says, “We could have been practising,”
“Do you ever just do anything else?” Y/N shot him a glare at his sarcasm, “I get this is important to you but don’t you just want to, I don’t know, have fun?”
Y/N walked over to her seat right next to his and straightened herself for the interview the school newspaper had organised for them. Sarah had told both her and Harry to dress smartly for the occasion which, according to Harry meant a designer sweatshirt and trousers whilst Y/N had gone for a dress and pumps. It wasn’t overly smart for either of them but enough to make it seem like they had made an effort. 
“The fact that you’re even suggesting that tells me you have no idea how important this is to me,” Y/N responds, monotonously. 
She hears a scoff from beside her, “What?” 
He turns to face her, his face rather too close, she notices three moles on his right cheek that she hadn’t ever seen before, “I think I know better than anyone how important this is to you but I also know from experience how important being in high school is with people your own age.” She forgets sometimes that even though he was whisked away to fulfil his place in the Australian Open, that his time of being a kid was cut short, “I don’t go out of my way to coach just anybody,”
“What do you mean?” She frowns but before Harry could reply, the doors to the gym open and in scrambles a sixth year with a messenger bag and a tripod with a camera dangling from his neck. 
“It means,” he leans forward, murmuring, “if you had half the belief in yourself as I have in you then you wouldn’t need me at all.” 
“Sorry I’m late,” Luke’s voice echoes as he steps towards them and places all three legs of the tripod on the ground and scrambles to screw his camera to it. 
“What’s with the camera?” Y/N asked. 
“O-oh, we’re recording the interview so I can write everything up later and we’re going to need your pictures together afterwards,” Luke explained. 
“You want us to take a photo together?” Y/N frowned.
“Did Sarah not tell you?” Luke replied. 
“Calm down, love. It’s just a photo,” Harry murmured and she tried not to react to the nickname he had used for her. 
Once everything was set up, Luke sat across from them with his laptop on his thighs, questions already typed out, “So, you two have known each other for a while now?” Luke asked as he sat across from them. 
As Y/N was about to tell him how they didn’t exactly know each other on a personal level but knew each other through tennis, Harry spoke up, “Since we were both in third year. I was eight and Y/N was seven but we’ve been in the same class since we were infants.” 
Luke nodded, “That must help a lot in your partnership,” 
Harry chuckled lowly, “Something like that,”
Luke types a few things down in his computer before turning his attention to Y/N, “Um, Y/N what made you turn to Harry for his coaching other than the fact he won the Australian Open?”
Y/N frowned, what more reason did she need to give? “Well, the fact he won is a big reason as to why I approached him,”
“But isn’t he injured?” Harry stiffened beside her. The way he asked made it sound like he was defective, unusable.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “Yes but I’ve seen Harry play games with a dislocated shoulder. He’d just pop it right back in and start playing again. His current injury doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s one of the best tennis players I’ve seen at Crestwood.” Y/N ignored the looks from the two boys. She knew she’d have to compliment Harry at some point during this interview, especially if they needed to show a united front for the games.
“And do think the same about Y/N?” Luke asked Harry who now seemed irritated by him.
“I think,” Y/N was prepared for a backhanded compliment but what she got was something entirely different, “Y/N has all the potential in the world to go for what she dreams of and I hope to watch her do it all even if that means I’m watching from the sidelines.” This time it was Y/N’s turn to glance at Harry, taken aback by his words. 
Luke spoke again, “You know some people are calling you the underdog in this tournament?” Y/N froze, it was the first time she had heard of it, “all the other women competing have had professional coaching and the school invests heavily in their tennis players.”
Y/N cleared her throat, “I didn’t know that but I have every intention of proving them wrong,” Harry bumped his knee with hers but she ignored it. 
“And What do your parents think about you doing this before leaving exams?” Luke asked. 
Y/N ignored the sting she felt at the thought of telling her parents what she was doing and the looks of disappointment she envisioned, which had been gnawing at the back of her head since she qualified. She answered confidently, "They're happy for me and excited to see me in the final."
Harry furrowed his eyebrows as Luke leaned in, his expression curious. "You think you'll get to the final?"
Harry scoffed, “Are you insinuating she won’t?” 
Luke backpedalled slightly, sensing he’d struck a nerve. "I didn't mean to suggest that at all. It's just that some people doubt the capabilities of those who haven't had professional coaching."
"Hey Luke, do me a favour and invite those people to the first game in three weeks' time. Let them witness firsthand what it's like watching a player as skilled as Y/N, without any professional coaching," Harry's frustration was palpable, catching Y/N off guard with his assertiveness. Typically, she would be the first to break in such situations but it seemed Harry already had.
Luke’s face warmed as he realised he overstepped, “R-right, let’s move on.” He scanned through his list of questions to find something more light-hearted to break up the mood, whilst Y/N straightened her shoulders, thankful they’d gotten to the final round of questions. “What do you both like to do outside of training?” 
“Together?” Y/N cringed, trying to picture spending time with Harry in a normal setting. 
“Not necessarily,” Luke shrugged. 
“My best friend is dating her best friend so we’ve been spending a lot more time together recently. Normally, I play guitar or recite poetry whenever I’m not coaching Y/N to volley properly,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the lies that left his mouth.  
“I study,” Y/N stated. 
“That’s it?” Luke’s eyebrows creased.
Her cheeks turned slightly pink, “I’m top of the class in all of my classes, that doesn’t just happen without hard work.”
She could feel Harry’s eyes on her and for the first time, she turned her head to catch his eyes. She noticed the frown on his lips and something in his eye that looked a lot more like concern or sympathy than the desire to tease her about her lack of social life. 
“Well, I think that will be enough,” Luke stood up and grabbed his camera, “Do you mind if we take a few photos now?”
Y/N and Harry stood from their seats, side by side and looked into the lens of the camera. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from forcing a smile as Harry did the same, “You’re standing too close to me,” Y/N spoke through her teeth as the camera flashed.
"Look who's talking with their giant foot squashing my shoe," Harry retorts, a playful glint in his eyes. Y/N inhales sharply, her gaze dropping to her foot to see what he's referring to. But before she can react, Harry smoothly slides his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side with practised ease. Their eyes meet, and just as the camera flashes, capturing the moment, Y/N side steps out of his grip with an annoyed huff.
“Okay, that will be all,” Luke smiled. 
As Luke packed his things away, Y/N and Harry stood awkwardly side by side without saying a word. Y/N glanced out the window and saw the sky had cleared up and the sun was setting. She needed to get back to her dorm to study for her French exam tomorrow as well as binge-watch tennis matches on YouTube which she’d been doing a lot recently. 
“Did you really mean that?” Harry asked, catching her attention, “All you do is study outside of school?”
Y/N looked at him, “I hang out with Sarah some days but yeah, I mostly study. I don’t really have a lot of choice and I’m not naturally smart.” Harry’s head tilted to the side like he was secretly questioning her in his head, “What? Aren’t you meant to crack a joke about me being stupid or something?”
Harry's eyes softened, his voice gentle. "I could never think you're stupid, love," he said, the nickname slipping from his lips with a tenderness that caught Y/N off guard. She found herself speechless, unable to figure out what had gotten into him recently. 
He pulled out his car keys from his back pocket and motioned his head towards the gymnasium exit, “C’mon,” He urged, “I wanna try something out and before you ask, it’s nothing to do with tennis or studying.”
Y/N’s feet stayed glued to the ground as he walked away and expected her to follow. She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms, wanting to refuse his invitation so she could get back to her dorm. But curiosity got the better of her and she followed a few paces behind him as he led her to the empty car park. 
Harry pressed the button on the car keys and the lights flashed on a black Audi hiding in the corner, “What are we doing?” She asked. 
“Have you ever driven a car before?” He wondered, looking at her with a hint of mischief. 
“Never,” She replied and was bewildered to see him open the door to the passenger seat instead of the driver’s seat. 
“Looks like it’s your lucky day, love,” He smirked.
Y/N’s eyes widened, “N-no! Harry, I'm not driving your stupidly expensive car.”
“C’mon,” Harry chuckled, “Don’t be chicken.”
She scoffed, “I’m not being chicken, I’m being sensible. If I crash that car, I don’t even think my parents will have enough money to fix it.”
“My parent’s will,” He grinned, cockily, “Get in,” 
“No, I’m not driving that car.” She insisted. 
Five minutes later, Y/N sat in the driver’s seat of Harry’s Audi with her fingers over her eyes as he instructed her on how to start. “Are you crazy?” She whimpers as he switches the engine on. 
“Stop worrying, I’ve got my hand on the break.” She looks down to see his hand already wrapped around the hand break, “Just stay calm and do what I told you to do. Clutch down, first gear and then ease your foot gently off the clutch.”
“You’re supposed to be teaching me tennis, not driving laps around the school parking lot,” Y/N argued.
“Think of this as a team bonding exercise,” He shrugged, “Okay now foot down on the clutch,”
“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” She strangled out, placing her shaky hands on the wheel.
“Relax,” Harry chuckled, “You’re being dramatic.”
“It won’t be so dramatic when we end up in a tree,” Y/N retorted as she carefully felt the pedals and pressed down slowly on the clutch. Feeling the car rise, Y/N gasped and removed her foot. 
“Calm down, it’s just because you put your foot on the clutch,” Harry was trying his best not to laugh at her, “Okay, now do it again.”
Y/N squeezed her hands on the wheel and repeated her actions, moving the gear stick “Okay, now carefully raise the clutch,” Harry instructed and as she did, he lowered the handbrake and the car slowly began to move forward. 
“Holy shit,” Y/N wailed, “We’re moving,”
This time, Harry did laugh unable to stop himself after seeing her reaction, “Make sure you turn the wheel or we really will end up in a tree,” 
Y/N did as she was told and turned the wheel slowly, “Okay, I’ll move into second,”
“Harry no!” She gasped but put the clutch down so he could move gears. 
“Atta girl,” He beamed.
Y/N’s worried expression soon turned into shock and then excitement as she moved slowly around the car park, “I’m driving Harry!” Y/N grinned and Harry swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 
“You are,” He praised, “There’s nothing you can’t do.”
After switching between first and second gear and Y/N complaining that her feet were aching from how tense she was using the pedals, Harry offered to swap places and show her what it was really like to go out on an evening drive. 
“Harry!” Y/N choked on a laugh as he went all the way up to sixth gear down the empty streets in the middle of nowhere, “Slow down,” She squealed. 
Harry glanced at her, grinning when he saw how wide the smile was on her face. He pressed his finger on the button to wind down all the windows, “Oh shit I love this song,” He turned the volume up on the stereo as Beyonce’s ‘Love on Top’ started playing, blaring loudly through the speakers of his car. 
“Baby it’s you! You’re the one I love! You’re the one I need!” Harry screamed the lyrics of the song and Y/N’s laughter sounded through the entire car as her hair blew behind her. “Sing it, baby!” He cheered, neither of them realising what he had called her. 
“I’m not gonna sing it,” She shook her head, her eyes squeezing shut as the engine revved. 
“It’s the only way I’m gonna slow down,” He teased as the build-up to the chorus played. 
Y/N giggled as Harry began to sing solo to the chorus again, giving her a look that had her rolling her eyes before she screamed out the lyrics alongside him, “When I need you, make everything stop! Finally, you put my love on top!”
Their laughter merged together as the song played out. Harry slowed down the closer they got back to town and cast a sideways glance at Y/N who was brushing her wind-swept hair with her fingers. “You okay?” He asked, seeing the glow on her face. 
“Yeah,” She bit her lip, “I’m okay. I just don’t get to do stuff like this… ever really.”
He nodded in understanding. Harry had met Y/N’s parents a few times before. His parents were frequent visitors to their country club so he knew what they were like but he had no idea of the extent of the pressures they had put on Y/N to do well. It reminded him of his own parents and the last thing he wanted to do was allow someone to feel the same way he did whenever his parents were too hard on him. 
“Wanna pull in somewhere to get something to eat?” Harry asked. It was getting late and they both had school tomorrow but he couldn’t seem to allow himself to let her go- not when she was having so much fun. 
“Okay,” Y/N nodded. 
He pulled into a dessert shop that was still open. Y/N followed him inside and to a booth in the corner. Harry ordered both of them bowls of soft-serve ice cream and Y/N even asked if she could have a strawberry milkshake to go with it. “I shouldn’t really be eating,” She told him.
“Hmm I heard drinking strawberry milkshakes improves your footwork. They served them all the time in Australia,” Y/N shot him a look that told him she knew he was bullshitting her but it made him smile. 
“Are you nervous about the game coming up?” They’d been training non-stop every evening and Y/N was quickly improving everything she had already learnt on her own. After considering Harry’s words a few days ago, she knew Harry was right. He had been good for her technique and she felt even more sure of herself than she did at the beginning. 
“No,” She said coolly, “I don’t have time to be nervous.”
Harry scoffed, “I don’t believe that for a second.” 
The waitress came over and placed their desserts in front of them, along with a strawberry milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top. “Mitch says he’s going to throw a party at my place if you make it through to the semi-finals.”
“A party at your place?” Y/N quirked a brow.
Harry sighs, “He came up with the idea of throwing a party and then just kind of decided it would be at mine.” He explained. 
Y/N nodded and took a sip of her milkshake. It had been so long since she had had something so sugary and sweet. She hummed before realizing she was being watched by the boy opposite her, “Just so you know, even though you bought these desserts and taught me how to drive, doesn’t mean I like you.”
Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling and dimples carving into his cheeks. Y/N’s heart stuttered but she pushed the feeling down, “Okay, tomorrow you can go back to hating me again and we’ll pretend today didn’t happen.”
“And you can do the same,” She says. 
Harry gives her a look, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t put a label on, “I don’t hate you Y/N.” 
She frowns, “You’ve always hated me,” 
“No,” He shook his head, “Never.”
“But you’re always making fun of me,” And she always did the same. 
“Because it’s the only way I get to speak to you.” He admits. 
Y/N’s lips parted in surprise, unable to believe what she was hearing. She had always assumed Harry had hated her since their rivalry had gone on for so long. She didn’t know what to say, confused by the sudden revelation.
“Ew,” It came out before she even had time to think, “Don’t be nice to me, it’s making me uncomfortable.” 
Harry seemed to deflate but quickly placed a smile on his face, “You make me uncomfortable and you’re singing, by the way, is awful.” 
Y/N scoffed, "At least I don't sound like a dying goat." Despite the return of their familiar banter, her heart seemed to continue to flutter under Harry's earnest gaze, stirring a mix of emotions within her that she’d never felt before. 
She didn’t know what was going on with her but the last thing she needed to think about was her emotions when her biggest goal to date was right before her. 
. . .
Three weeks had gone by far too quickly for Y/N’s liking.
“Again,” Harry drawled.
Y/N gritted her teeth and repeated the backswing technique Harry had shown her but the angle was all wrong and the ball ended up going completely off court.
“Fuck,” Y/N spat, throwing her tennis racket on the floor and squatting, balling her hands into fists on her head.
Harry sighed, walking over. “You’re nervous about tomorrow,” He stated like he didn’t need her to confirm despite the fact she had constantly told everyone she wasn’t nervous about anything. 
“I just need to win,” She mumbled.
“Get up,” Harry ordered. 
Y/N did as she was told and stood up. He grabbed the racket from the floor that she’d thrown across the court like a toddler throwing their toys out a pushchair and flipped the racket between both of his hands. He handed it back to her and grabbed his own.
“I want you to mirror my actions,” He says and stands a few steps away from her. 
He steps forward, tossing the tennis ball into the air before swinging his racket with both hands, expertly landing it in the left corner of the opposing court. Y/N tracks his every move, mimicking his actions as if she were his shadow.
Y/N’s ball lands slightly off target and Harry bites his lip to stop himself from smiling at the scowl on her face. He walks towards her and comes up behind her. Y/N’s breathing hitches when she feels his fingertips press gently on her arm. 
“You need to straighten this arm more,” He advises, his fingertips sliding down her arm and leaving a trail of goosebumps as he straightens her arm out. “Calm down,” he murmurs, his mouth near her ear, “I can feel your heart beating.”
Y/N seems to lose every ounce of oxygen when he places his hand flat against her back where he can feel her heart beating, “Breathe,” He says, “You will win tomorrow, I will make sure of it.” 
The warmth that flooded Y/N’s body quickly left as Harry took a step back, “Try it again,” He nodded towards her racket.
Y/N sighed, tensing her muscles again after Harry had practically managed to turn them into liquid. She tried to ignore the flutter in all of the pulse points in her body that were screaming to make contact with that new presence and swung her racket, landing the ball exactly where she wanted. 
“There y’ go,” He murmurs, almost as if he was saying it to himself. “I think we should call that it for today,”
“What?” Y/N frowned, “The game is tomorrow, I need to practice.”
“Y/N, we’ve been practising for half the day already. You’re going to wear yourself out if you carry on,” Harry tells her.
“Fine,” She huffed but Harry gave her a knowing look.
“Come to my place,” He offers.
“Why would I do that?” She goes to grab her sweatshirt on the bench and pulls it over her head. It was getting colder now that the sun was going down. 
“Because I know you’re just going to come back here once I leave and trust me, you don’t want to do that.” She opened her mouth to refuse but he continued, “We can watch Wimbledon on TV and order pizza.”
She wondered how he knew that Wimbledon was one of her favourite movies and pizza was her favourite food. “Is it the DVD exclusive?” Y/N asked.
Harry’s lips tilted upwards, “Of course,” Y/N nodded, following him to his car so he could drive them to his apartment. 
Y/N remembered the last time she was in Harry's car three weeks ago. It was the first time Y/N truly enjoyed being in his company and the first time she had allowed herself to have fun and relax. 
The day after,  they resumed their usual arguing as if the previous night hadn't occurred. However, Y/N found herself overwhelmed by a surge of unfamiliar emotions swirling within her.
Despite the bickering, she kept noticing things about Harry—like the way he smiled and talked. It made her feel weird like there was something more between them that she hadn't noticed before.
The air was silent between them as the radio played lowly in the background. Harry turned into a block of apartments that looked far too expensive for a student to afford all by themself. “This is where you live?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening as he pulled into a spot. 
“For now,” He says. 
Y/N trailed behind Harry as they rode the elevator to the fifth floor and made their way to his apartment. When he swung open the door, flooding the space with light, Y/N couldn't help but notice the spaciousness of the apartment, as well as its emptiness.
“I haven’t had time to unpack,” Harry said, walking to the kitchen after kicking his shoes off, “Do you want anything to drink?”
“I’ll just take a glass of water,” Y/N’s eyes darted to all of the boxes that covered the floor. 
She walked to the kitchen area and leaned against the counter, “Are those your trophies?” She asked, seeing the metal cups in an open box.
Harry smiled, “Yeah, I’ve kept all of mine even the ones that didn’t count.” 
“They all count,” Y/N grins, walking over and pulling one out, “The battle of the sexes trophy.” 
Harry smirked, walking round to stand beside her, “I still remember the look on your face when they handed me that trophy. If looks could kill, love, I don’t think I would be here.” 
“It was a big deal to me okay?” Y/N replies, “I seemed to blame you for all my losses when I was a kid.” 
Harry’s expression softens and his head turns to look at her, “Will you blame me if you don’t win tomorrow?” 
Y/N’s smile falters, “No, I’d blame myself. I think if I lost this, I don’t know who I would be anymore. Tennis is my life.”
Harry’s eyes glint underneath the soft lighting of the kitchen, “God,” He whispers, “You drive me crazy y’ know that?” 
“What are you talking about?” 
“Do you think you could love anything more?” He asks, ignoring her question. 
“I can’t think of anything, if I did I’d have to love it an awful lot.”
“Okay,” He nods like he’s accepting a challenge. 
Y/N narrows her eyes, “What are you thinking?” 
“Nothing,” He shrugs, “But I want you to know-”
Before Harry could finish his sentence, the door swings open and the shrill sound of his mother’s voice fills the air. Y/N stands straight and she notices Harry tense up, taking a step in front of her, he pushes her behind him.
“Harry,” His mother sighs, “How are you darling?” 
“Mum,” He replies, curtly, “What are you doing here?”
“Your father’s running late home so I thought I would come by to see how you were,” She says and then looks behind him.
Y/N doesn’t need Harry to introduce her as she steps forward and holds out a hand, “Hi Mrs Styles, it’s nice to see you again.” 
"Y/N?" Anne gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. "You've grown so much, you're beautiful." She reached out, taking both of Y/N's hands in hers and giving her an appraising look.
Y/N's cheeks flushed at the compliment. "Thank you, Mrs. Styles," she stammered, feeling a mixture of nerves and warmth.
Anne smiled warmly. "Oh, call me Anne," she insisted before turning her attention to Harry. "I didn't know you two were such good friends."
Y/N and Harry exchanged a quick glance, both unsure of how to respond.
"I'm her coach," they both blurted out simultaneously, the words tumbling out in a rush.
Anne's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?" she exclaimed, her gaze flitting between them. "You're coaching?"
Harry nodded, his expression serious. "Yes," he confirmed quietly.
"But Harry, your injury," Anne interjected, concern evident in her voice as she glanced down at his leg. "You're not meant to be—"
"I'm fine, Mum," Harry interrupted sharply, his tone making no room for argument.
"Harry, you know you can’t be playing-"
"I said I'm fine," Harry's voice rose, his frustration evident as he cut her off, causing Y/N to jump at the sudden outburst.
Anne's concern softened into a resigned sigh, her eyes reflecting a mixture of worry and understanding. "Alright, Harry," she relented, her tone gentler now. "Just promise me you're taking care of yourself."
Harry's features softened, a hint of remorse flickering in his eyes. "I promise, Mum," he said, his voice softer now, more subdued.
Anne nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Good. That's all I ask."
As the atmosphere relaxed, Anne turned her attention back to Y/N, her smile warm and welcoming. "Well, it's lovely to see you again, Y/N," she said kindly. “Tell your parents we’ll be stopping by in the spring.”
Y/N returned the smile, her earlier nervousness dissipating in the warmth of Anne's acceptance. "It was nice to see you too, " she replied sincerely.
Harry glanced at Y/N, a softness in his gaze that made her heart skip a beat. After seeing his mother out following her very brief visit, Y/N finally mustered the courage to ask, "What was she talking about?"
Harry's expression turned grave, his features shadowed by a sense of burden. "It was nothing," he replied.
"Why can't you play?" Y/N pushed, her concern evident in her voice.
"Y/N, I'm telling you to leave it alone," Harry warned, his tone firm.
But Y/N couldn't let it go. "If it's nothing, then why can't you tell me?" she insisted, her frustration bubbling to the surface.
"Because it's none of your business, that's why," Harry snapped, his words cutting like a knife. 
"Nothing I do or say has anything to do with you, so go back to hating me because it's a hell of a lot easier than what I have to deal with."
Y/N's heart sank at his harsh words. With a deep breath, she crossed her arms, her resolve hardening. "You know, now I remember why we never got along in the first place," she retorted, her voice laced with bitterness. With a sharp turn on her heel, she made her way to the front door. "You're such an asshole, Harry."
"Y/N," Harry called out, his voice tinged with regret as she stormed out of his apartment towards the elevator. "Y/N, come on, don't be like that."
"Go suck a dick," she shot back, stepping into the elevator before Harry could stop her.
As the doors closed, Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Let me drive you back, at least," he pleaded, his voice barely audible over the sound of the closing doors.
"Fine," Y/N huffed, her tone clipped with annoyance.
The car ride back to her dorm was tense and silent. When Harry pulled into the front of her dormitory, Y/N moved to open the door finding the silence far too uncomfortable. Then, out of nowhere, Harry's voice broke the silence. "I can't play tennis anymore," he confessed, his words heavy.
Y/N's heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat. "What do you mean you can't play anymore? That's ridiculous," she exclaimed, her disbelief evident in her voice.
Harry's hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I mean I can't ever play tennis again," he admitted, his voice cracking with emotion.
"Are you serious?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling with shock.
"I tore my ACL during practice for the French Open. I—" Harry's voice trailed off, unable to continue, “It was so bad Y/N and I was in so much fucking pain and no one would listen to me. I went through multiple surgeries and rehab but the doctors sat me down and said I couldn’t play unless I wanted to fuck up my leg for the rest of my life.” 
“Harry…” Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears. 
Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of Harry's words sank in. She glanced over at him, seeing the pain etched in his features, and felt a surge of empathy wash over her. It was a devastating blow for someone who had dedicated their life to the sport they loved.
"I'm so sorry, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with genuine sadness for the boy beside her.
Harry managed a small nod, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, “That’s why I had to come back here. My father can barely look at me and my mother won’t leave me alone. At least here I can be around people my own age but when I’m at home, it’s fucking suffocating Y/N.”
Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t imagine losing the one thing she loved above anything else in the world and have to re-construct everything she had ever known to find something else to love just as much. 
“I don’t expect you to say anything but I’d appreciate it if you showed me a little mercy,” He spoke. 
“Why would you offer to coach me then? Would that not make things worse?” She asked.
He looks at her, really looks at her, like there was something on the tip of his tongue he wanted to say but couldn’t, “I figured it would alleviate the pain.” 
“But I saw you play, I watched you and you beat me,” She exclaimed.
“Yeah and it hurt like a bitch afterwards,” He shook his head.
Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wondered why Harry had been unwilling to play against her during the training sessions and now she knew why. She felt awful, her heart was hurting for him. 
“I don’t want you to feel pity for me and I don’t want this to change anything between us. I’m tired of being treated like a broken toy and I think it would kill me inside if you looked at me differently.” 
Y/N stayed quiet, facing forward and collecting her thoughts before saying, “Thank you for telling me,” She murmured, “And it doesn’t change anything. You’re still an asshole,”
Harry laughed and then his pinky brushed the side of her hand, “You will be everything tomorrow.” He whispered.
Y/N’s heart fluttered at the soft edge of his words, “You think so?”
His eyes softened, “I believe in you, more than anyone in the entire world.”
She nodded, taking a deep breath and looking out the window. The tension had settled and now a newfound respect lingered between them. 
She would win tomorrow, for herself and for him. 
. . . 
It had been a while since Harry had been to a tennis tournament. The last time he was on a court for an official match was well over six months ago, it was a challenger match he participated in during his training for the French Open before his life took a vast turn. 
He sat in the stands with everyone else from Crestwood who had come to watch the first game. Although Crestwood Academy invested more in the football team than any other sport, the turnout had been pretty good and nearly every seat was occupied by a student or teacher. 
On the opposite side was Eaststone Academy who seemed to have invested heavily in their merchandise for Y/N’s opponent. Everyone was either wearing a t-shirt with Vanya’s name on it or carrying a sign with supportive catchphrases written in bold marker. 
Harry craned his neck in hopes of seeing Y/N preparing herself somewhere outside of the court but couldn’t find her anywhere. He’d sent her a quick message this morning and asked her if she needed anything but she insisted she wanted to be alone. 
“Fuck, it’s good we got in the queue early,” Mitch came by with an anxious Sarah, holding two cokes in his hand. They were both wearing navy shirts and sweatbands around their heads, Sarah was holding a sign that had Y/N’s name on it. 
“She’s gonna hate you for that,” Harry tried not to smile.
“Oh I already know,” Sarah said, “She watched me make it last night and then almost ripped in half when I asked her if I should bedazzle it.”
Harry’s expression changed into one of concern, “How was she?”
“She’s nervous but she insisted she was okay,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “You know how she is.”
He did, which was why he was willing to accept the fact she wanted to be by herself even though he was desperate to drive over there with strawberry milkshakes just so he could see that smile he had been dreaming about for the past three weeks. 
Suddenly, Eaststone Academy stood from their seats and cheered as Vanya Maddison came onto the court. “I’ve never seen such long legs,” Sarah gasped, saying what both Harry and Mitch were thinking. 
Harry’s heart pounded in his chest as the people around him stood on their feet. He glanced down to the court and his eyes fell on Y/N as she walked onto the court with a dip between her brows and her tennis bag over her shoulder. 
She was wearing a white, pleated skort and a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. Her hair was slicked back as tightly as possible into a braid and her white runners were tied up on her feet. He noticed she was wearing earbuds in her ears and then found the walkman he had given her clipped to her skort. He smiled at that, wondering which of the many songs he had put together she was listening to. 
“There she is,” Sarah pointed and then waved to get her attention. 
Y/N held a hand over her face to block the sun and looked up at the crowd. When she caught sight of Sarah, she offered a friendly wave before her eyes landed on Harry. She gave him a nod of acknowledgement and then walked to her seat on the other side of the umpire. 
“C’mon,” Harry murmured, feeling his palms sweating at the sight of her. 
“She’s got this in the bag, H.” Mitch puts a hand on his shoulder. 
Through the speakers, the umpire calls out the start of the match and everyone falls silent as both players walk to opposing sides of the court. Y/N bounces on her feet and swings her racket backwards and forwards as though warming herself up before the match starts.
When the first serve came, Y/N's reflexes kicked in. She returned the ball swiftly, keeping the rally going with her quick movements, remembering what Harry had taught her. Each exchange became more intense, but Y/N stayed determined, chasing down every ball.
When Vanya hit the ball for the other corner, Y/N ran towards it and returned the ball swiftly, earning the first point with a well-placed shot. The crowd erupted into cheers as Y/N gained an early lead.
“That’s my girl!” Harry clapped his heart in his throat. 
But Vanya wasn't about to let up. With determination in her eyes, she fought back, winning the next two points with powerful serves and precise shots. The score was now in Vanya's favor, and the pressure was on for Y/N.
“Fuck!” Y/N released a growl and hit her racket against the floor before storming off to her seat. Harry was tempted to walk down and help her but he needed to let her see what she was capable of on her own. 
Her anger was radiating from her, “I’d hate to get on her bad side,” Mitch said. 
Harry couldn’t seem to reply as he leant forward with both his elbows on his knees. “C’mon, c’mon, you can do it.” He mutters, thinking of the first bit of advice he had given her. 
“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.
“My speed?” Y/N frowned. 
“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.” 
Y/N rolled her shoulders back and stood on her feet. She walked back to her line on the court and bounced the ball up and down on the ground before throwing it up in the air and hitting it with a flat serve, exactly the way Harry had taught her. Her anger radiated from her as she slammed the ball with her racket and hit it with such force it went flying to the other end of the court but not before bouncing inside the square right by Vanya’s foot. 
Harry stood to his feet and pumped his fist into the air, “Holy shit!” Mitch exclaimed as Sarah cheered beside him. 
They were now at match point and Y/N had to win this next round if she wanted to win the entire game.
The tension thickened in the air as people sat on the edge of their seats to see who would come out on top. This time, it was Vanya’s turn to serve as she launched the ball into the air and hit it with her racket to Y/N’s side of the court.
As Y/N unleashed powerful serves and precise shots, Harry found himself captivated by her every move. With each grunt of exertion, each flex of her muscles, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Despite the shifting heads of the spectators around him as they followed the ball back and forth, his gaze remained fixed solely on her.
Every aspect of Y/N's play had him in a trance—the way her muscles rippled as she sprinted across the court, the intensity in her expression as she anticipated Vanya’s next move, the graceful sway of her hair with each swing of her racket.
But as Harry watched, something stirred within him. A warmth spread through his veins, igniting a fire deep within him. Suddenly, he felt a tightness in his shorts, a physical reaction to the raw power and determination radiating from Y/N on the court.
"Oh, fuck," Harry muttered under his breath, his heart racing as he glanced down and saw the undeniable bulge in his shorts. Panic surged through him, his mind reeling with embarrassment.
"What's wrong?" Mitch's voice cut through his thoughts, and Harry quickly lowered his drink to conceal his arousal.
“N-Nothing,” Harry forces a smile, “I need to use the bathroom.” He doesn’t wait for Mitch to respond as she pushes past everyone to get away from the crowd.
He walks quickly over to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He didn’t know what to do. He felt like he was thirteen years old after experiencing girls for the first time again. Was it wrong to rub himself off in the middle of a tennis match when all he was looking at was the girl who played his favourite sport better than anyone he had ever seen, dominating the game with her anger and intensity like she was a complete animal?
He couldn’t shake the image of her from his mind and his cock seemed to ache the more he thought about how beautiful she was on the court, completely in her element, anger and passion emitting from her. Every grunt and groan she made as she hit the ball with so much fervor had his head spiralling. 
He looked down and tried to will it away, he needed to get back out there to see her win the game. He thought of every disturbing thing he could possibly think of and even took out his phone to google the quickest way to get rid of an erection.
The excited yells of the crowd told him someone had won and he prayed he would return and see Y/N with the medal around her neck. 
After about ten minutes of taking deep breaths, he finally felt composed enough to leave his car. With a flustered face, he made his way back toward the court, silently praying for some kind of cosmic intervention to erase the embarrassing moment from his memory.
As he turned the corner, he spotted Mitch and Sarah engaged in conversation with Y/N, who was proudly wearing the gold medal around her neck. She had won - he knew she would. 
Y/N's eyes lit up as she noticed him, a wide smile spreading across her face as she proudly displayed her medal. Unable to resist, he grinned back in response.
Sweat glistened on her skin, her cheeks flushed with exertion, and delicate strands of hair framed her face. At that moment, she radiated beauty, and he couldn't deny the sudden surge of emotions that had slowly been weaving themselves into the fabric of his feelings ever since he had returned to Crestwood. 
If the past fifteen minutes were anything to go by, Harry knew this was more than just a game of tennis. 
He was in trouble.
. . .
People cheered as Y/N entered Harry’s apartment with Sarah at her side, holding beer cans in the air and patting her on the shoulder as she sifted through the crowds of people. S&M by Rhianna played over the speakers as the apartment that was previously empty was now filled up with student’s from Crestwood. 
“There she is,” Mitch’s voice yelled over the music, “Crestwood’s very own Serena Williams,”
“I wouldn’t go that far Mitch,” She chuckled, unable to stop herself from smiling so hard after the excitement of her first win. 
Y/N’s eyes scanned the room as she went in search of the one person she wanted to see whilst everyone fell into conversation around her. 
That’s when she saw him, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup in his hand. His hair was a tangled mess, and his body was adorned in a loose, white shirt, its u-neck revealing the inked pair of swallows beneath his collarbones and gold chain around his neck. On his legs, he wore a loose pair of black trousers.
Y/N held back a smile as she made her way over to him until she realised who he was talking to. 
Her face fell as she saw the angelic blonde, tanned and glowing like she’d just come back from a holiday somewhere south of the equator. 
Harry’s face lit up as Y/N approached until he realised what was going on.
“Hey,” He smiled, trying to distract her. 
“Where were you?” Y/N snapped her gaze towards him. 
“What do y’ mean? M right here,” He spoke, “You were incredible out there.”
“Who’s this?” Y/N ignored him, folding her arms and looking at the girl he was speaking to. Y/N knew exactly who she was but felt the need to act as though she had never seen her before. 
Harry hesitated for a moment before introducing her. “Y/N, this is Astrid.”
Astrid flashed a dazzling smile at Y/N, her demeanour friendly yet confident. “Congratulations on the win today, Y/N. I’m looking forward to our match in the semifinals.”
Harry's reaction was immediate. “What?” he stammered, clearly taken aback.
“You didn’t know?” Astrid asked, surprised. “Y/N and I will be facing off in the semifinals.”
Y/N grit her teeth and forced a smile, the two girls eyeing each other up and down as Harry’s eyes darted anxiously between them.
Now that Y/N was into the semi-finals her next opponent was Astrid Anderson, one of the best junior, female tennis players in the county. 
Who just so happened to be Harry’s ex-girlfriend.
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the-kingshound · 11 hours
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Adrei growls. She bangs her arms against the door until it breaks, splintering under her enhanced strength. Her parents locker her inside the room where her father goes when he has his episodes.
But she isn't mad, she's thought this through.
She has sins she needs to amend to. And if anyone tries to chain her up again she'll kill them.
She makes her way through the courtyard with heavy, dragged steps. She crushes the sword of a guard that dares standing between her and her horse. A loud crack echoes as she pushes the guard aside, a limp body colliding with stone and collapsing to the ground.
Someone screams, and Adrei advances.
WHo cares.
She needs to get to her brother. Emyr is in pain and Adrei has allowed that suffering to take place for years, doing absolutely nothing. She swore, as he was departing from the House to be wed, that they would see each other again.
Twice. Twice have she met her brother since then. What she has is fifteen years of letters in which her brother withdrew more and more, parchment becoming progressively more crumpled, stained with ink as if he didn't even have the energy to write anymore. And she did nothing.
But NO MORE.
Her mare neighs, agitated, as she mounts it and pushes it to a fast gallop.
---
Emyr looks up from the desk with a worried frown. He doesn't want to get up, even less to leave the room, but when another loud sound reaches the depths of his room, by now the fourth or fifth one he's heard, he rises.
His clothes are a mess. His hair unwashed, tied up in a bun that would have made him cringe in shame a few years back.
He walks up to the door, but stops just before wrapping his fingers around the handle. He hasn't gotten out in so long... and if his wife sees him, she'll scream and-
Other worrying sounds reach his ears, so Emyr opens the door.
Blood stains greet him.
The ground is washed in gore. Sparse severed limbs lie scattered, and just at the end of the hallway his sister, drenched in blood, is holding off the ground the body of Emyr's wife. He feels locked in place, and isn't able to let out even a sound as Adrei, eyes lifeless and completely black, crushes her neck without effort.
Her body goes limp, then Adrei throws it to the side with very little care.
Emyr wants to throw up.
His oldest sister spots him, then. She takes a step forward and Emyr takes one back, his heart beating loud, but he only feels numb.
His wife is dead.
His prison her House is destroyed.
Adrei freezes.
Everything stays still for long, endless seconds. Some rasping, dying monas fill the silence and nothing else. Then, Emyr starts to advance.
He takes a step forward, then two, until he is standing in front of his sister, until he sees a spark of recognition in her black eyes, consumed by magic induced madness. Emyr has never been a tactile person, he avoids physical contact most days, but he wraps his arms around his sister and buries his face against her neck.
"I'm sorry I took so long," she rasps out.
He clings to her.
"You're free now. I killed them all."
He puls back, exhaling a trembling breath. "They'll hunt us now, Adrei. The Council will want us both."
Adrei just stares, swaying on her feet. Emyr steadies her. He brings her to his room, pullng her to sit on his bed. With trembling hands, he writes a letter, rolls it up and calls for his sparrow.
"To Camelot," Emyr says, seeking aid from the one person that can offer them both protection.
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Call Me Back- Chris Sturniolo 
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Paring- Chris Sturniolo and Y/n 
Description- Chris has been ignoring you for a while, upsetting you, until one night he shows up at your apartment. 
Warnings- angst, crying. Remember everything is fictional! Nothing here applies to real life.
NOT PROOF READ!
You had really been upset this past week. Chris had been distant this week. At first, you thought he was busy with filming and that he needed space. 
But it had gotten more complicated. 
He stopped answering your calls and texts. You could see his likes on other girls' social media.
Another thing- you didn’t care about whose posts he liked, whether they were girls or not.
It was that he was liking pictures of half-naked girls was what got to you. 
You could feel your heart swell when you got a notification. 
Chris.sturniolo made a post 
You clicked on the notification. A picture popped up. It looked like Chris was at a party. He had that big bright smile the one he would always show around you.
What really caught your attention though, was that his arm was clinging onto another girl's waist. 
The girl was leaning her head on his shoulder, and her arm was on his other shoulder. 
You felt your heart crack. Had he found another girl? Is that why he had been ignoring you? 
The girl did look perfect for him though. Golden brown hair. Crisp, green eyes. Big, perfect pink lips. You felt your heart crack even more. It looked like a match made in heaven. 
You hadn’t even realized tears welled up in your eyes until they started streaming down your cheeks. You choked a sob, as you sank into your pillow. 
You didn’t like your emotions getting the best of you but when they did, it was too late. 
What if you were just overreacting? What if she was just a close friend? 
But you saw how both their eyes showed happiness. Connection. Love. 
You cried yourself to sleep that night. 
___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___ 
Two more days passed. Two more notifications, each day. Each post with the same girl. The same bright eyes.
The same smile. The same pang of pain in your heart. You had tried calling him too, but he would just ignore your calls, or not answer. 
You decided that you did want to live a sob story, so you went to the grocery store, hoping to at least be productive and get some tasks done. 
You found yourself driving to target, hoping to buy some things. For one: food. It was always your comfort. 
You also needed to buy your daily necessities, like toilet paper and soaps. 
And you defiantly bought snacks and candy. 
You thought things were going well. You thought you could avoid any possible thought of Chris at all today.
You were literally finished checking out your items. 
But no. The world must really hate you. 
The way your heart shattered when you heard that laugh. As you saw those brown locks of hair.  
Chris. 
And you heard the female laughter following. That golden brown hair. Those deep, crisp, green eyes. That girl. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to move. At all. Who is she? Why do I feel like this? You couldn’t bring yourself to speak.
And the next thing you knew, they were right in front of you. “Oh hey y/n!” You heard Chris’s voice. You couldn’t utter a word. 
You couldn’t hear, you couldn’t feel you couldn’t speak. Are you alright? He asked. Are you okay?
I can’t do this. You finally snapped back to reality, and you ran. You ran right out of that store. You couldn’t turn back.  
He had ignored you for almost a week and a half. Hadn’t picked up any of your calls. And now suddenly acting like he cares? You couldn’t do this. 
You cried as soon as you got home. 
___---___---___---___---___---___---___  What time is it? Was your first thought as you woke up. You rubbed your eyes. Sighed. You needed to relax.  
You grabbed your phone, a blanket, and snacks from your kitchen, and made your way to the living room. 
10 things I hate about you. Thats what you decided to put. 
You wrapped the blanket around yourself, its warmth covering you, protecting you, keeping you safe. Why can’t they be Chris’s arms. 
You were about halfway into the movie and on your third bowl of popcorn when you heard a knock on the door. You sighed, not wanting to get up. 
The knocks wouldn’t stop, so you forced yourself to answer it. 
“What are you doing here,” you asked. Where’s your new girl? You wanted to ask. Why haven’t you broken up with me? 
“I wanted to see if you were alright.” he said.  
“You wanted to see if I was okay?” you could feel your voice rising.
“Oh Chris I’ve been great. I’ve just been ignored for a whole week by my boyfriend, not to mention that he’s been hasn’t been answering my texts of calls, and hanging out with some girl I don’t even know?” 
You were crying at this point. “So yeah Chris. I’ve been doing great.” He was silent for a moment, his eyes showing pure heartbreak. 
You couldn’t. You completely broke down. Sobbing. 
Chris knew you didn’t like crying. That’s why he was so shocked. It broke his heart that he made you feel this way. 
He pulled you into a hug, murmuring soft, reassuring words into your ear. “Shhh, you're alright pretty girl. Don’t cry. Please.” his voice cracked on the last word. 
Once you had calmed down a bit, both of you took a seat on the couch. 
“10 things I hate about you,” he said. “That’s always been your comfort movie.” You nodded your head. 
A few moments passed. “Look y/n, I owe an apology. I’m sorry I haven’t reached out in what feels like forever.” he sighed. “What about that girl?” you asked. 
That’s what was bothering you the most. 
“Yeah um, she's the reason. Ally. She was one of my best friends in middle school, and she surprised me by showing up out of nowhere. She moved away right before high school- before we even met. I was just happy to see her when she came. She has a boyfriend, you know.” 
“Oh,” was all you could manage with a voice crack. “I-I’m so sorry.” Guilty guilty I feel so guilty.
I felt a tear slip down my cheek, many more following. For the second time, Chris pulled me into a hug, kissing my hair and rubbing my back. “It’s not your fault pretty girl. Don’t cry. I promise you.”  
His touch leaves a trail of butterflies on my skin. “I’m sorry for ignoring you, my sweet girl. I promise you that won’t happen again.” 
You sniffled as you hugged him burying your face into the crook of his neck. He suddenly picked you up bridal style. “Lets get you showered and ready for bed, yeah?” 
You nodded your head. Love Love Love in his eyes. “Chris I love you.” 
He looked down at you and smiled that warm warm smile. “I love you too baby.”  
tags- @tillies33ssss @theyluvme-2315 @alorsxsturn @maya555sblog
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Kristen stands in front of him. She looks behind him. There’s nobody behind him but Gavin Pundle, up high in a tower.
Pain. It shoots through his throat. Kristen stands and looks horrified.
Not her. It can’t have been her. This does not feel like divine magic turned foul; instead, it feels like cold steel against his skin.
Buddy falls. He doesn’t hit the ground. Instead, he falls and falls and falls. He falls through the pale tiles of the arena and continues to fall.
Death. That’s what happened. 
Death. He is not unfamiliar with the sensation, nor is he afraid. Death happens to everyone, even young adventurers. If Helio has deemed that it was Buddy’s time to go, then that is how it will be. Everything grows dull and numb, and Buddy waits for the darkness to give way to his promised afterlife.
It does not come.
He waits patiently. Many people die each day. Helio must be up there, at the pearly gates, awaiting every follower with a smile to give them access to what is rightfully theirs. Buddy can wait, for Helio will give him the same courtesy.
That is coming. His afterlife. He’s getting there.
Any minute now.
No longer falling; now weightless in this void. There is no light, not even a flicker or a hint. Buddy clutches his staff and whispers a prayer. Surely Helio would remember him. Surely Helio would await him.
Sensation returns to him. It starts in his chest, deep within his stomach. Negligible at first, then growing. It beats, almost like a heart. With each beat, more and more of that searing sensation spreads across his chest and stomach. It is difficult to breathe (he’s dead. he doesn’t need to breathe. let go) and it spread through his neck to his mind.
Rage. He clings to it. Helio is the only one who can call down righteous fury onto the unbelievers and lash out with hatred. He has never known Helio’s wrath, but he has seen it in action.
He welcomes it. He expects to be wrapped up in it - not as its target, but a witness. Righteous fury by a god aimed towards themselves, for forgetting one of their most loyal, dutiful followers. Hasn’t he been loyal? Hasn’t he been dutiful? The Rat Grinders prove difficult to convert, yes, but Helio knows he hasn’t stopped trying.
It’s not righteous. It burns through him, it hurts in a way that nothing has ever hurt before. It is not righteous rage, but rather uncontrolled. Unbridled, untapped rage that lashes out like a wildfire, that cares not about who stands in the way and what gets destroyed in its path. It similarly lashes out at Buddy’s soul and being, whatever is left of it after this murder.
A hellscape. He blinks and he is no longer within this lightless void. Instead, he sees a terrifying hellscape such as his grandfather has warned him about. He tries to block it out and quell the rising panic in his chest, but he doesn’t need to. The rage is all-encompassing that he almost can’t feel that terrible dread sink into his chest.
He shouldn’t be here. He has been loyal and dutiful. He should not be here.
A voice. Or perhaps there isn’t. Perhaps he wishes to hear a voice. It whispers in his mind all the same.
A promise. An impossible choice between life in service of rage, or eternal death in this hellscape. 
Buddy wishes to stay true. To make a well-informed decision. Yet unbridled rage clouds his mind and time, he feels, is running out. He needs to make a decision now. 
Helio has abandoned me.
The thought sneaks into his mind. He wishes to cast it out, but once taken root, it spreads like the wildfire ignited by rage. 
Helio has abandoned him. He cares not for the mortals who would follow him. If Helio cared, he would have shielded Buddy from this hell and this decision in the first place. If Helio cared, Buddy would be on the other side of the pearly gates - where he belongs.
Helio has abandoned him. Helio isn’t here.
But this god is.
He doesn’t need to agree verbally. He doesn’t need to think about his answer to be heard, because this god knows his answer.
A breath. He sees the sky of the plane where the Last Stand takes place. A deep breath in as he sits up straight.
A scream. A hateful, guttural scream that has been sitting at the bottom of his throat finally is released. It felt good to release it at last and to feel all the things he’s always felt but never acted on. A scream, heard only by himself and the giant that towered over him. 
The rage stops burning. Instead, it settles in his stomach. His chest hurts only a little.
Buddy looks up. The face of the giant is obscured. He knows this being brought him back. He knows this is a servant of the one he now worships.
It’s a funny feeling. When he thinks about Helio, he feels no devotion at all. Only the now omni-present rage colors his view. Though his new deity does not have a name - it doesn’t need one, he still follows it - he can feel that devotion that once belonged to Helio. It now belongs to her.
Buddy belongs to her.
“Dang, y’all,” he says. “I worship a nameless god of rage.”
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isoobie · 15 hours
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LOVE ME BACK › lee heeseung social media au
010 go shoot ur shot
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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ written part ━━ 🗯️ 1.1k
ring! the bell for the third period rang and you were off. making it straight to locker, getting the jersey and straight to the basketball courts. you shouted a quick ‘bye’ to your friends before rushing again.
it was when you arrived that you realised how full all the seats were. at the bottom, near the players, you heard screeches of excited girls cheering on for their favourite players while the top was full with intrigued students who just wanted to escape a mundane lunch break.
you squeezed your way through, finally make it to the entrance of the guys changing room while you felt your heart beat louder every second and just as you were about to knock the door, heeseung opens it to come in eye contact with you.
his hair, fluffy and messy with sweat dripping on the side of his face while his shirt was tightly clinging onto his muscles which you could clearly see through the white fabric— he had probably just finished practice, you thought. flushed, you avoid eye contact and look away only for him to say,
“you’re here? sorry, i didn’t know yet, wait a minute and i’ll show you the way to the seat i saved for you.” the smile on his face never left when he talked to you, which made you smile too.
you responded to him with a small nod and lifted your face up when you noticed he had gone back to the changing room. hand to your face, you felt them heat up from the smallest interaction with him— was this meant to be normal?
however, to distract your mind, you checked the time to realise that the match started in less than five minutes. ‘heeseung is probably taking a while’ you think to yourself before you start heading towards the main courts.
"yn, come i'll lead the way." he spoke from behind you, making you startled.
his tall physique stood next to you as you both walked together, side by side, one more inch closer and both of your hands would have been touching. you stopped yourself from thinking any further after you heard the loud cheers for heeseung's team.
the sight was intimidating for you— you remembered the fact that probably everyone in this hall knew that the two of you were 'dating' and expected something from the both of you. however, before you could tell heeseung about it you felt one of his arms wrap around your torso and lead you to your seat.
it was one of the front row seats were you saw yunjin waiting for you but before heeseung let you sit down, he bent down towards your ear and whispered, "i have a surprise too, if i win this match let's both give our surprises to one and other."
your face turned red at his comment, embarrassed but even more when he winked in you before leaving you with girls screaming at the interaction.
"even they know how cute you guys are, this is a sign yn."
"sign? he only did it to engage the crowd." you denied her words because you didn't want to admit the impact they had on you but before you could talk any further you realised the match had already begun.
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the match was intense— it was a tie with only three minutes remaining in the game, heeseung’s team only had to score another hoop and they would've win. everyone anxiously waited for the ball to go into the last hoop before it was game over.
in the background you heard endless screams and chants, while others nervously wondered if their school would win it for them or not but you sat there, arms linked with yunjin, beaming with confidence.
ever since you had started liking heeseung, you dragged your friends to all his basketball matches, whether or not it was a rehearsal or not. you could say that was the start of your infatuation because going to those matches was habitual— you didn't remember the last time you didn't go.
although your friends couldn't care less about how well heeseung played, you had already memorised his each and every step he took and analysed his whole technique before sitting in the seat you were in. the way he dribbled, the way he passed the ball to his teammates, the way he shouted their names all the way down to the way his face would light up every time his team scored a point showcasing his small dimple on his left cheek.
and before you knew it, you heard the loudest cheers and claps from the hall as heeseung's team celebrated while the opposing school had their faces painted with defeat.
"yes!" you quietly screamed to yourself, glad you trusted your gut instincts.
however, lost in a trance, you didn't seem to register the fact that heeseung stood right in front of you, with his jersey in his hand. the girls who were supporting him, squealed louder and the crowd was wilder than ever. embarrassed, you took it from his hand while you shoved the one you got for him to his chest.
"you got me one too?" his doe eyes glistened with curiosity.
"funny enough, that was your surprise." you both erupted into a fit of giggles just when you heard comments about the two of you from behind.
'kiss, kiss, kiss!'
'wear them, please!'
'my favourite couple!'
'twin jerseys oh my god!'
the two of you wore them just how the crowd asked you too but then the words, 'kiss each other' seemingly got louder and louder with every one waiting for your response. heeseung looked into your eyes seemingly waiting for your answer.
deep down, you had made a promise, you knew no kissing was allowed in this fake relationship and you still wanted it, when were you ever going to get a chance like this again? but breaking an oath? you were better than that, so instead of fuelling into your obsessions you were ready to turn them down.
"we can't kiss each other now sorr—"
it was like every thing happened in a flash. you swore one second ago you promised yourself you weren't going to kiss heeseung but his lips moulded against yours and you couldn't help but kiss him back harder.
his hand wrapped around your waist, as he pulled you deeper into his mouth. you vividly remembered the scent of your jersey on him and the taste of energy drinks lingering on his tongue.
"there you go, we kissed, are you all happy now?"
'no i'm the happiest one now, hee' you wished you could tell him right then and there.
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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ PREVIOUS ・ MASTERLIST ・ NEXT
note ━ are you guys happy now? ><
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47 notes · View notes
floralcyanide · 2 days
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⊱ 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝐺𝑜𝑙𝑑 ― 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤 ⊰
[ ᴀ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ]
1960s ᴜs ᴘʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴄᴀɴᴅɪᴅᴀᴛᴇ!ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜs sɴᴏᴡ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑣𝑒 (ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠): 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟
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౨ৎ 18+ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs ᴏɴʟʏ !
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⊹ summary: a run down of the events after new year's eve. ⊹ pairing: young!coriolanus snow / fem!reader ⊹ warnings: innuendo, the insinuation of smoking, mentions of alcohol ⊹ word count: 1139 ⊹ author’s note: sorry for the wait, but I decided to make the rest of the series headcanons instead of actual chapters. it is quite exhausting to write sometimes, and there's so much to this series that I'd rather do it this way. thanks for all of your support. this is my favorite series I've written so far. (:
౨ৎ divider credit: @cafekitsune
౨ৎ sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ | sᴇʀɪᴇs sᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ | sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ
౨ৎ this fic has been cross posted to ao3.
ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.
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❝A man does what he must—in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures - and that is the basis of all human morality.❞ ― John F. Kennedy
✲ Coriolanus is leading in the polls so far for the 1964 election, but there’s a problem. He has yet to marry, and this is peculiar to many hesitant voters. Jack and Bobby both talk to him about this when they all gather in Coriolanus’ office to discuss their next steps.
✲ “I think the girl studying Jack would be a great contender,” Bobby suggests.
✲ Jack laughs incredulously at his brother, “I am not going to send off my student to marry a politician when she has so much ahead of her.”
✲ Coriolanus shuffles uncomfortably. The two of you have been secretly seeing each other here and there since that past New Year’s Eve, and it’s now the middle of April. The thought of just popping the question to you has crossed his mind, but he didn’t want to ruin the good things going for you. 
✲ Other problems more dangerous than marriage plague Coriolanus. The Women’s Revolution, the movement for Women’s rights, has reached new heights in their tension with the government. Coriolanus has been questioned about it by journalists and citizens alike. He firmly stands by his goal of women’s equal rights being passed into law.
✲ Jack offers Coriolanus the chance to come back to the Compound in the summer to finish up campaign strategies and kick back for a while. Little does Coriolanus know that Jack offered for you to return as well to finish up your dissertation. He wants to test Bobby’s theory of you and Coriolanus being together. Hopefully, you can finish up your project before Coriolanus makes a move.
✲ You arrive at the Compound, much to John Jr. and Caroline’s delight, as they run down the front stairs to you. You clamber out of the car, and the Secret Service removes your luggage. The kids cling to your legs as you laugh down at them. You glance up to see Coriolanus at the top of the stairs, and you do a double take.
✲ “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here?” you ask, a grin growing on your face. It had been about a month since you’d seen Coriolanus. “It was a last-minute decision,” he shrugs. 
✲ That first day, you, Jack, Coriolanus, and Jackie go out on the boat and have a few drinks. You all catch up, and Jackie gives you knowing looks the whole time. You and Coriolanus avoid the elephant in the room regarding you two.
✲ The evening creeps up, and you and Coriolanus sneak to the fire pit after dinner. “Have I told you about my vice president?” “No, not yet. What’s he like?” “His name is Sejanus Plinth, I think you two would get along very well.”
✲ After you and Coriolanus discuss Sejanus, he asks a question after a moment of silence. “Have you ever tried the shit that Jack smokes?” “Not really, but it smells peculiar,” you say, “Why?” “You seriously don’t know what it is?” Coriolanus chuckles. “Well, it can’t be tobacco, so,” you trail off, realizing what the substance is, “Oh. I see.” Coriolanus laughs at you again before pulling a joint out of his pocket, “Wanna smoke some?”
✲ Coriolanus sneaks into your room that night just to sleep in the same bed as you.
✲ You and Coriolanus become prone to sneaking and doing daring things. One night, after everyone has gone to bed, Coriolanus drags you to the garage, where the two of you take Jack’s convertible out for a spin. Without the Secret Service. Coriolanus drives down a back road alongside the coast, where your arms are thrown into the air as the wind gusts past your hair. Coriolanus looks over at you, knowing then and there he needs to marry you. There’s no one else, and there never would be. 
✲ Coriolanus takes you out on a beautiful date in Boston at the fanciest restaurant in the city, which was suggested by Jack and Jackie. 
✲ When you get to the bottom of your champagne glass, something hits your lips. You jump in surprise and slide it out of the glass when you pull it away from you. It’s a stunning diamond ring, the gem itself huge. The band is a simple white gold, and you look up at Coriolanus, who has now moved to kneel before you. 
✲ “I know this is quite sudden and out of nowhere, but there’s no one else like you. And I don’t think I can go on without you being mine forever,” Coriolanus has his hand on your knee, a hand out so he can place the ring on your finger, “Say yes, and I’ll give you everything you could possibly want.” “I think I have everything I could possibly want right in front of me, Coryo.” “So, you’ll marry me, darling?” “Yes, Coryo. I will definitely marry you!”
✲ The next day, it’s splattered all over the press that presidential candidate Coriolanus Snow is engaged to be married to little old you, the student under President John F. Kennedy. Bobby is beside himself, and Jackie hugs you, whispering in your ear how she knew you two would end up together.
✲ It’s now the middle of summer, and the wedding day is coming soon. You decided to get married on the beach outside the compound where you and Coriolanus met. The entire Kennedy family is invited, and your friends from university, as well as a few of Coriolanus’ friends, are invited. You finally meet Tigris, Coriolanus’ cousin who raised him, at the bridal shower. She tells stories upon stories about the blonde boy getting into trouble, which you enjoy thoroughly. 
✲ You and Coriolanus marry in late June of 1964 in a beautiful ceremony, where Jack walks you down the aisle. He says it’s the biggest honor he’s ever received. Not even his Purple Heart could compare. 
✲ Your honeymoon is spent in Boston in a luxury hotel near downtown. For the whole week, the two of you hardly leave the bedroom. 
✲ When the two of you are back from the honeymoon, Jackie proposes a day on the beach for the whole family. You both sit by the sea while the kids play and the guys play some football. Coriolanus isn’t a major fan of sports, so he stays with the kids.
✲ Both of you watch as Coriolanus plays with Caroline, John Jr., and Bobby Jr. in the shallows, splashing back at them when they throw water at him. “Have you thought about kids yet?” Jackie asks suddenly. You open your mouth but close it back, unsure of how to answer, “I- we haven’t really… discussed it yet, I guess.” Jackie hums, nodding, “It would look great for the campaign, besides, the sooner, the better. Voters love a great love story.”
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r0-boat · 2 hours
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Hiii would you mind if I make a request :3
Soooo, I've been thinking, how would the 5 demon king's would react when their s/o or MC (she/her if it's possible, if not genderneutral is ok uwu) is ovulating and she is all needy but doesn't say anything~
Because these men are truly more feral, like Beel's always sniffing us and getting aroused by our smell, or Leviathan having some kind of rut/heat and getting all attached to MC; these boys are more wild and animalistic (don't know if it's the correct way to describe it haha)
Thank you if you accept my request :3
Actually obsessed with this Ask.👀
Natural Pheromones
Whb headcanons
Cw: scent kink, Breeding Kink, scientifically explaining in a porn game lol
summary: AFAB!reader is ovulating and the demons are acting weird
This is very interesting to me considering the fact that demons can't have offspring on their own with each other unless they pray to Lilith or something. But they can have offspring with humans so it makes me think
Since demons have better chances having offspring with humans, perhaps demons just evolved to react to what a human is ovulating.
Solomon was born male he doesn't have the same natural pheromones that AFAB has. Demons who had never been in the human world will never know why they start feeling such a magnetic pull to you.
Did you change your hair? Was it perhaps new clothes? Maybe a new lotion or perfume? because you smell slightly sweeter. And is it just them, but is your skin softer too?
Beel was the most affected by this change; He could practically find you from miles away. Uncharacteristically clinging to you as soon as he finds you. Burying his nose against your neck. You ask him "is there something wrong?" And he just matters that he misses you.
Levi has been taking up his aggressive antics a notch because he's too stubborn for you to find out that he has been jerking his cock ever since you stepped foot in his castle. You have been driving him and his devil's crazy, and he hasn't had the foggiest idea why.
Lucifer has been having a little baby fever of his own since you visited. He wants to know what the child between the child of man and fallen angel would look like.
Mammon is in fucking rut, And no matter how much he fucks you, it's not enough. Draining his balls leaving him still unsatisfied.
Satan is starting to become a resource-guarding dog.
Devils will not leave you alone!! Sure you've been always surrounded by devils but this time you draw crowds, And if it isn't for the kings always around you these devils will be bang and brushing themselves against you desperate for your attention.
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kennys-parka-jacket · 8 months
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I am once again thinking about The Poor Kid
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monsterbisexual · 6 months
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thinking abt saw was not part of the plan when i watched it
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sttoru · 2 months
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. satoru’s love for you has never diminished—even after being your husband for a few years now. in fact, his love for you continues to increase with each passing day.
wc. 500-ish
tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff. satoru being clingy as per usual. reader gets called ‘sweetheart, my wife.’
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“and my lovely wife right here will have the vanilla flavour,” satoru announces to the ice cream man. he’s smiling from ear to ear as he shamelessly puts emphasis on the word ‘lovely’.
it’s embarrassing to you. especially because everyone in the queue - plus the vendor - is staring at you. some giggle at the affectionate display from your husband, others just stare or roll their eyes.
satoru does not care about any of them. all he cares about is expressing his love to you in any way he can—whenever, wherever. this time he went for a much more. . . direct approach.
“you didn’t have to say it like that,” you mumble under your breath. you tug at satoru’s arm, clinging onto him whilst hiding your face against his bicep.
you get even more flustered when the man behind the counter nods at your lover’s words—telling you he ‘agrees that you’re indeed a lovely woman’.
satoru feels a sense of pride in having you with him. he always does. seeing the reactions of others when he’s boasting about having a pretty wife makes him feel all giddy.
“why? i’m proud of my wife,” satoru shrugs nonchalantly. he lowers his head to yours, looking you in the eyes from behind his sunglasses. he giggles once he sees that flustered expression of yours from up close.
the sorcerer ruffles your hair before over excessively nuzzling his cheek against yours. perhaps he’s actually experiencing what’s called a love surge, “my girl, my sweetheart.”
you cringe at the cheesy moment that’s happening. you love satoru and his clingy affectionate gestures, but when you’re surrounded by a bunch of people, it can become overwhelming.
you whimper and scrunch your nose up, “mghhh, stop it—we’re in public, ‘toru.”
a futile attempt to stop the white haired man. though, after a few seconds, he actually halts his movements. satoru pouts dramatically whilst holding your face in his hands. he squeezes your cheeks together, “awww. . . but what if i want the world to know that i’m the luckiest man ali—ow!”
you bite satoru’s thumb the second it teasingly rubs with your bottom lip. he’s always so touchy and knows no boundaries when it comes to pda. however, it does make you happy to know that he’s not afraid to show you off to the world.
you playfully frown at your husband, his thumb still between your teeth. it’s cute how easily flustered you get. it makes him want to play with you some more—to tease you some more.
“alright, alright,” satoru gives up and sighs deeply. his head is held low as he steps back to give you some space, “i jus’ wanted to let my girl know how much i adore her, y’know.”
“hah, i’m not falling for your dramatics this time,” you chuckle and roll your eyes. you grab your order once it’s done and walk out of the shop without waiting for your pouty but lovely husband.
you hear him whine out your name. satoru hurriedly grabs his own ice cream cone before rushing after you. once he’s caught up, he wraps his arms around you from behind and lifts you up.
“hey! you can’t just leave your hubby like that. c’mere,” satoru smirks and you can hear it in his voice. you kick your legs, though to no avail.
“gojo satoru! don’t you dare,” you warn whilst holding tightly onto your dessert. satoru ignores your warning and spins you around in circles with him—laughing at your high pitched shrieks.
he doesn’t stop until you’re both dizzy and have to hold onto each other to prevent from falling. satoru kisses your neck gently and you can feel him smiling against your skin, “i love you, sweetheart.”
his love for you has and will never fade. many may say that the honeymoon phase will end sooner or later in a marriage, but that’s definitely not the case with your marriage.
satoru will always be head over heels for you and his affection for you will never stop. even if you’re both old and grey; he’s going to love you all the same.
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alastor-simp · 3 months
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Horror Movie Night😈 - Alastor x Reader
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Charlie wanted to find an activity to bring everyone together, since a lot of the personalities in the hotel would clash. She had made a list of ideas, but majority of them were turn down for being too childish. The last option was a movie night with everyone, and surprisingly everyone agreed. The genre of movie was the real problem. Charlie wanted a musical. Vaggie had a preference for drama. Angel dust preferred either a steamy flick (aka porn) or comedy. Niffty voted for romance. Husk didn't really care, but he wouldn't be upset if it was an action movie. Sir Pentious was interested in historical / documentaries. Alastor was not a big fan of modern technology especially television, but he would give it a try if the movie was a horror. You enjoyed all genres of movies, so it didn't matter which one you saw. Coming up with an idea, you suggested pulling a name out of the hat, to decide the genre of movie that gets picked. Borrowing Husk's hat for a bit, everyone wrote their name on a piece of paper and tossed it in. After a quick shake, you grabbed the first piece of paper and pulled it out.
Yelp, looks like it was going to be a horror movie as Al's was the name you pulled out. Everyone had made their way to the couch, while some of them sat on the floor. They were all dressed in their pajamas. Niffty had made popcorn and drinks for everyone to enjoy during the movie. Charlie was lighting some candles to add some effect when the movie was playing. Next to you on the couch was Alastor. He was wearing a red stripped top, and black lounge pants. He seemed very cozy. "Hey Al. What movie did you pick?" Alastor looked at you, smiling big as always. 'Well my dear, I picked whatever seemed interesting! I hope you will enjoy it!" Giving an awkward smile back, your eyes turned toward the TV as soon as Charlie pressed play. You didn't mind horror movies, but being the scaredy cat that you were, they still made you scream.
The movie that Alastor picked was "The Descent." The start of the film was a bit slow, but it slowly began to build up overtime. It got to the point in the movie where the characters had entered into the large cave, to explore. Yeah, that was already a red flag. Scanning your eyes around the room, you took in everyone's reactions. Charlie and Vaggie were hugging the life out of each other. Niffty was smiling, but she was clutching on to her plushie very tightly. Angel was on edge and tried to cling on to Husk, only to be pushed back by him. Angel huffed and decided to a least grab Husk's hand for comfort, and Husk allowed that at least. Sir Pentious was cowering on the floor, wrapping his whole tail around him. Alastor was just smiling next to you, obviously enjoying where the movie was going. You, on the other hand, was getting a very bad feeling in your stomach as the characters kept exploring the cave. The pillow that you were holding was being used as a shield as you kept hiding behind it, waiting for something to happen.
The climax of the movie had arrived when the grotesque bat-like monster had made an appearance and proceeded to feast on one of the characters. Everyone in the room had screamed and jumped, including you, as you covered your face with the pillow. There was a chuckle to your right as Alastor was laughing, at both the movie and your adorable reactions. From the start of the film, Al was seeking glances at you, wondering what your next reaction would be. The face you made when the dread set in was highly entertaining to him. However, he did pity you a bit, as he could see that the movie was frightening you tremendously. Unbeknownst to you, you felt someone drape their arm behind your shoulders, pulling your body closer towards them. Looking up from the pillow, it was clear that it was Al who had done it. His eyes were still watching the movie, clearly enjoying the gruesome moments. Not saying a word, you continued to watch the movie, but the feelings of fear had diminished a bit due to Alastor's actions. The movie had finally ended, as the credits began to flash on the screen. Everyone gave a sigh of relief, except Al . Clapping with glee, he found the movie quite invigorating. Vaggie rolled her eyes at him, while whispering "creepy weirdo" under her breath. It had gotten super late, so it was time to head for bed.
Wishing everyone a good night sleep, you carried yourself back to your room, despite the prickling sensation that you felt crawling up your back. That movie was still on your mind, but you tried to push the fear away. Alastor was following from behind , since the both of you were next door neighbors. "Feeling alright, my dear? That picture show had you shaking like a leaf!" He was definitely smirking when he said that. "No s✪✪✪, Sherlock." Grumbling your response back at him, you continued to make your way to your cozy abode. Having arrived at the door, you turned to Al, who had just arrived at his door. "Good night, Alastor." "You as well, my dear!" Making over to the bed, you laid down and got under the covers, adjusting yourself to get comfortable. It took a while, but the droopy feeling had taken effect on your eyes, and you fell into a deep sleep. Pitch blackness was all around you. The muscles in your body felt like they had been ripped apart. The air felt heavy, almost dry like you were underground. Something was moving around you, circling you, watching you. The monstrous sounds it made created a haunting echo. You begged your body to respond, it was no use. The sounds were coming closer. No. NO! You bellowed out a scream.
"Y/N!!" Someone was shaking you, causing your eyes to snap open. Your body was shaking and there were tears in your eyes. You slowly realized that you had a nightmare. Alastor was in front of you, hands on top of your shoulders. His glowing eyes eyeing you with concern, yet his smile was still present. "A-Al? W-what's wrong? W-why are you in m-my room?" Struggling out a response, your eyes looked at Al in confusion. "My dear, I had heard your shrieks of terror and rushed over! It appeared you were having a nightmare! A rather horrible one at that!" He was still holding on to you, which gave you some comfort. "Oh, I'm so sorry if I disturbed your sleep." Taking in a few deep breaths, helped tremendously as you were able to talk properly and control the shaking. Shaking his head, Al had let go of your shoulders, and moved his hands to your cheeks. "Darling, there is no need for you to apologize! But, may I ask what were you dreaming about?" Massaging your cheeks like a cat, Al smiled down at you, softness in his eyes. Explaining it in full detail, Al realized that the film you had witness, was the main cause of the night terror. He had known that you were scared, but not to the point it would result in you kicking and screaming in your sleep. He needed to rectify this.
"Come along, my dear!" Your body left the sanctity of your bed, and ended up in Alastors arms. He was carrying you like a bride. "W-what Al?! Where are you taking me?!" Whispering at him, while your brain was trying to wrap around this situation. Cocking his head to the side, he gave you an optimistic smile. "To my room!" There was no time to refute back as the both of you had arrived at his door. Creaking loudly, the door to his room had opened by itself. His room was like something out of a story book. One side was the normal room decor, illuminated with candle light. The walls were plastered with Alastor's personal trinkets and stag heads. The other side was saturated in moss, tall pine trees looming above. Chirps of crickets could be heard and glowing fireflies were flying around. Eyes widening in amazement, you continued to gaze around the room, earning a laugh from Al. In the center of the room, was an enormous bed, covered in satin sheets and black pillows. "How... How were you able to do this?" You breathed out, as Al placed you on the bed. Raising an eyebrow, he smiled down at you, wagging his finger. "Ah ah ah! A magician never reveals his secrets, my dear!" A thought popped in your head: "Where was he going to sleep." Snapping his fingers, Alastor used his powers to snuff out the flames from the candles, leaving only the fireflies as a source of light. Realization hit you, causing you to jump off the bed, leaving Al staring at you in confusion. "Wait Al! Are you okay with this? Sharing a bed?" Alastor looked at you, head crooked to the side. "Why of course! Are you oppose to the idea? Haven't you had your share of sleepovers with the effeminate spider?" Well yes you had, but this situation was different. "I'm not opposed to it, but I don't want you to do something you aren't comfortable with." You told Alastor this, rubbing your arm with your hand.
He was still befuddled by your statement until he began to wrap his head around of what you were saying. How charming you were! Thinking of him and his aversion to physical contact. "Darling, There is no need to worry." His body moved to crawl under the covers, sitting on the bed and looking at you. His finger pointed towards you, beckoning for you to return back to the bed. Still hesitant about the whole situation and observing his body language, it came to your decision that he was really okay with it. Your feet carried you back over, and slowly made its way under the covers, plopping your head on the pillow. Al huffed, a little annoyed that you didn't follow his instructions. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards him. Your head was engulfed in his chest, feeling his chin, nuzzling it. "Comfortable, Y/N?" A warm breath whispered into your ear. His voice sent chills down your back, while also causing your heart to skip a beat. "Mmph" was your response, as your mouth was muffled against his chest. Hearing a hum from above, you felt Alastor nestle closer, hooking his leg over yours. The static emanating from him had quieted down and the thumping sound of his heart sounded much clearer. Extending out a yawn, your eyelids began droop while listening to the calming sound of Al's heartbeat. Soon, your eyelids had closed and you fell into a deep sleep.
Managing to stay awake, Al had watched you, making sure you were able to relax. He never in a million years thought he would be doing something like this. He was the radio demon, the most fearsome and all powerful overlord. Everyone trembled in fear from the sight of him, yet here he was now, cuddling you in his bed. He was getting soft, which displeased him greatly, yet he couldn't help but find it comforting as well. Your very-being was changing him, in both a good and bad way. Sighing, he pushed his thoughts away as he had a busy schedule tomorrow and needed to be well rested for his broadcast. Nuzzling closer, Alastor hugged you tighter. His glowing eyes dimmed and he had fallen asleep as well.
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arminsumi · 5 months
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★ Satoru's undercut
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★ Synopsis : He fears the hairdresser like it's the dentist. One day, he accidentally gets an undercut style. He would have thrown a tantrum if it weren't for your positive response — because all he really cares about is that you enjoy his haircut.
★ Content : soft fluff, romantic tension, some mutual pining??
★ Library ★ reblog for a cake slice! 🍰
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"This will ruin my life..."
"It will not ruin your life."
"I'm gonna die!"
"You're not gonna die."
"Yes, I'm gonna die! They're gonna cut my head off."
"They're not gonna cut your head off."
Satoru had a haircut appointment which you were accompanying him to as per his desperate demand request. Suguru was there also, helping Shoko with something technical on her phone. He laughed when Satoru was whining to you.
The four of you were on the train; Suguru and Shoko stood tightly packed with their backs facing other people as if they were the group shield. And Satoru sat next to you, clinging to your arm as if he were a kid on his way to the dentist.
"Don't laugh. You know I feel the same about hairdressers as people feel about dentists!" he pouted.
"Satoru, you're so weird." you said.
“I'm not!”
You shook your head at him. Satoru grumbled.
"No one understands me!" he said dramatically.
Suguru commented, "I do understand why you dislike hairdressers, Satoru; most of them don't cut your hair how you want."
Shoko nodded and chimed in, "— yup, and you usually leave with a fake smile and say "oh wowww... I love it!" but you actually hate it." then she went back to frowning at her phone with Suguru.
“My hair is important, I can't afford to have a bad haircut." Satoru said.
"Haha, you make it sound like if you have a bad haircut it could cost you millions." you laughed.
Satoru sat up straighter and spoke seriously, "It may as well cost me millions!"
You didn't understand why Satoru was being so dramatic.
****
The hairdresser looked at you, Shoko and Suguru and then wondered why so many people were accompanying this grown man to his haircut, as if he were about to get a root canal for the first time.
Suguru whispered into her ear, and she blushed at his alluring charm like anyone would.
"He's scared of bad haircuts... so please do your best, he has a girl to impress. See that one sitting there?” Suguru pointed to you, “Yeah, that's the one."
He accidentally flustered her, and he smirked about it when he returned to you and Shoko.
"Suguru, your head looks as big as a bubble about ready to pop." you joked, noticing his smug demeanor as he took a waiting seat with you.
"I think I just flustered the hairdresser on accident." he said.
Shoko chuckled, "Is it ever an accident? I think you do it on purpose — oh, Y/n, I think Satoru is trying to get your attention. Give him some comfort."
Satoru recoiled when the cold blade of the scissors touched his neck, and looked distressed when the hairdresser touched his hair.
You knew he was highly sensitive to touch, especially his hair — he hated people touching his hair (reason X for hating hairdressers). The only person who was allowed to touch his hair was you. Suguru and Shoko needed a "valid reason" for touching Satoru's hair.
But you could comb your fingers through his hair any time, any place for no reason and Satoru would go limp with a smile on his face, completely melting for the act of affection.
Sometimes when it was just you and him alone together in his apartment, especially during his sleepless nights, Satoru would lay his tired head on your lap and ask you to play with his hair. Each stroke of your hand mellowed him out. He especially loved the feeling of your fingers running through his hair when it was fluffy and long.
So really, he feared not the hairdresser or even the bad haircut, but the fact that it might be too short or not fluffy enough for you to enjoy. It had to be just right. He had to maintain his fluffy hair for you.
He wanted to make sure that when you saw him at every party and get-together, you'd think "Wow, Satoru's hair looks so good.". He wanted you to compliment his hair and make him feel good and blushy.
And most of all, he just wanted to please your eyes. He wanted you to be starstruck when you looked at him.
So, a good haircut was critical.
****
Satoru's panic calmed after you took the empty seat next to him. He watched in admiration as you struck up a friendly conversation with the hairdresser. She turned out to be kind. She was an apprentice (picture nervous Satoru stiffening his shoulders when he learned this) and her mother owned the establishment next door.
Satoru was mostly quiet and focused on his reflection in the mirror. He squinted in suspicion when the lady brought out a hair buzzer.
But then you distracted Satoru by asking about what the four of you were doing after this. He stuttered a bit, half-looking at the hair buzzer and jumping a little when it turned on.
You talked so much that Satoru was completely distracted, and the lady could work. Though, it was hard, because Satoru didn't really specify what he wanted... so she winged it.
She thought hey, this guy would look good with an undercut. So, she cut an undercut for Satoru, and looked at you and smirked. His girlfriend will appreciate it, she thought as she looked at you and Satoru talking with hearts in your eyes.
You weren't his girlfriend. But you may as well have been. The two of you were anyways soulmates since kindergarten. Sure, you went away for five years to work abroad, but the link between you and Satoru wasn't broken by the distance.
****
Satoru gasped and nearly fainted when he saw how short his hair had been buzzed at the bottom. His neck felt exposed and suddenly it felt more drafty.
"What the—"
"— oh, you look hot, Satoru." You said.
He immediately shut up and went red in the face.
"Thanks, yeah it looks... yeah." Satoru hesitantly complimented the hairdresser's work.
She beamed proudly and wrapped up the haircutting session. Satoru took off the black dressing gown and stood up and shimmied the white hair off his pants.
"The cat is shedding." you joked, making Satoru grin with sealed lips.
You picked a white strand of his hair off the back of his shirt when he stood in line to pay at the checkout. He didn't notice. Such a cute boy.
Satoru was just grumbling to himself about how he'd need a scarf or turtleneck to compensate for his "practically naked" hairstyle now.
You stared at his undercut and felt your heartbeat get a bit frantic.
Then you kept staring as you left the barber shop.
Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders out of habit, as if he were your boyfriend, so the hairdresser felt sure that you two were dating and said something as you two left that really made you and Satoru blush;
"Your girlfriend loves it." she winked.
"I'm not his—"
"She's not my—"
"She sure does! Thanks for everything, see ya." Shoko cut off you and Satoru from responding and shoved the two of you out the door.
****
That comment lingered in the back of yours and Satoru's minds for the rest of the day.
On the train home, you grazed your fingers over Satoru's undercut and it elicited the funniest reaction out of him; he shivered like a cat that had just been scratched in a sweet spot.
"Haha, does that feel good?" you asked.
"It does. But my neck feels naked." Satoru shrugged.
Oh my god, do that again, he thought. It felt so good.
"Aw, then Y/n should wrap her arms around your neck." Suguru said in a flirtatious murmur.
Shoko laughed and propped a cigarette between her lips.
The four of you got off the train, you parted ways. Suguru and Shoko lived in different places and had to wait for their respective trains to take them home. So, you said your goodbyes and went with Satoru.
When you and Satoru moved out of your university housing, you both decided to live on the same street. You can say it was for X reasons, like oh it's a good neighborhood or oh the prices are great or oh the apartment walls aren't thin... but let's be honest; you and Satoru just didn't want to live too far from each other. You were inseparable, even cry-babies whenever the two of you were separated.
Satoru was always clinging or touching you in some way – hanging off your shoulders, resting his chin on the top of your head, draping an arm around you, holding your hand, snuggling into your neck. The closeness brought him more comfort than his own bed. He even claimed once that he could fall asleep on you more readily than on his bed.
Sometimes he was just shy of kissing you when you two met up, or when he knocked on your apartment door some mornings. His lips would graze over yours by accident in some circumstances, and though the two of you would laugh it off, there was an unmistakable spark in the air between you and him.
****
“Do you like it?” Satoru asked.
“I love it. You look really good.” You replied.
Satoru smiled to himself, hiding his face in your lap.
The TV was playing the most recent episode of that trashy romance soap opera – the episode where the two love interests kissed in the rain. Satoru stared hard at their lips connecting, and thought of why he hasn’t attempted to kiss you again. He didn’t want to ruin anything, so he kept his confession to himself even if it was obvious that he liked you.
You noticed he went a bit silent as you ran your fingers through his hair. He made a soft, long groan when your fingertips tickled up the back of his neck and over his prickly undercut.
“You sound like a cat.” You laughed.
His eyes were closed, brows relaxed into a sleepy arch. Whenever he got drowsy in your lap, his lips would part and show his two front teeth.
****
After getting an undercut hairstyle, Satoru was living in heaven with how much attention you gave his hair. Every day you’d find an excuse to play with his hair.
It made his heart beat harder and his mind go blank whenever you touched his neck and hair. He’d get shivers and close his eyes each time you did it, and would even stop talking mid-sentence.
In time it grew out. He refused to go back to the hairdresser, and instead insisted that you cut his hair for him. At first, he attempted to do it himself, but then he wimped out as soon as he held the scissors to his hair.
So, after he practically begged you on his knees and voiced his fear for the hairdresser, you agreed.
Cutting Satoru’s hair was a whole event. You invited Suguru and Shoko over to your apartment, and the four of you were laughing in the cramped bathroom together.
You had no idea what you were doing, and the online tutorials didn’t help much.
Satoru was dramatic when he thought you were cutting it too short or jagged, and he was so very picky that it drove you nuts to the point of putting the scissors down and leaving. But then he hugged your legs and apologized cutely, so you came back. Suguru and Shoko had to get it on camera because it was pure comedy.
“Alright, fairy princess. How did I do?” you asked Satoru.
He checked himself out in the mirror. His jawline and shorter hair drove you a bit wild, it was hard to contain yourself.
“It’s okay.” He replied cheekily.
“Just “okay”?! I put my soul into this!”
He grinned. “I’m just teasing.” He said, “I like it. Now let’s test it out.”
You looked confused. “Test it out?”
“Play with my hair.” He explained, “And tell me you like how it feels or else I’ll cry.” He added dramatically.
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© arminsumi
I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
This is fictional work.
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sexlapis · 6 months
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[◉°] … toji & y/n being a couple for 10 minutes straight pt.3
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ。˚ 𓂋 ❄﹒✦﹒✿ ˚
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꩜ actor!toji x actress!reader
⤷ synopsis : just toji & reader being idiots in luv…
꩜ content : crazy fans, very mild physical violence (toji pushing ppl lol), toji being a little ooc again. this is really not as wack as the warnings are making it sound.
- a/n : loads of people seem to be enjoying this & i enjoy making them, so here you go! :D
. . . part 1, part 2, part 4
masterlists
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౨ৎ first clip
(recorded by your fansite) - you & toji are at the airport and it is packed. there are fans swarming you, practically suffocating you & toji, along with paparazzi taking pictures of you, flashing lights in your face. your bodyguards are literally at war trying to guard you and you have to cling onto toji’s arm to even get past the sea of people.
all of a sudden one fan somehow gets way too close, and grabs a hold of your shirt, trying to drag you towards him. you jerk forward and without even hesitating, toji just grabs the face of the crazy fan and pushes him away like it’s nothing, causing a domino effect having other fans falling over as well.
toji puts an arm around you and guides you to check your tickets, ignoring all the chaos he caused behind him.
(this got a lot of mixed reactions, some people siding with toji saying he was just protecting you & others criticising him for his rash actions that could’ve caused people to get injured 💀)
౨ৎ second clip
you & toji were doing a video for WIRED, taking part in their popular series, “Web’s Most Searched Questions” about yourselves.
“okay third question..” you say, and peel off the paper. “are _____ and toji..dating?”
you & toji look at the camera and then at each other, faces hot and you’re both awkwardly smiling before looking at the camera again. you & toji speak. “yeah, i dunno.” “nooo idea.” “literally no clue whatsoever.” “why even ask that like-like we’d know the answer?”
you peel the next question and it’s even worse. “are _____ and toji having- A BABY?!” you shout and cover your face laughing, both in shock and amusement. “what?!”
toji just facepalms, hiding his pink cheeks and sighs tiredly. “christ…”
౨ৎ third clip
you’re at a press conference for the series you and toji are in, all the cast members are gathered on a long table with microphones but it’s a pretty informal gathering and the fans are being very interactive with the cast!
a crew members hands the microphone to a fan who has a question. “hi! hi, i’m sarah and uhm..i have a question for toji. and _____ too! do you think that your characters have a chance of..like..getting together? like romantically-?”
“yeah we’re getting together,” toji responds bluntly, reeling in the loud cheers from the crowd & he decides to add fuel to the fire. “and we’re gonna have a make-out scene too.”
the audiences goes crazy with applause and whistles, while you pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head in embarrassment as the cast look to see your reaction.
then the director of the show pitches in, holding her finger up. “just to clarify, we did not discuss this..”
there’s a chorus of laughs and sad ‘awws’ among the pool of fans which only makes you giggle. you didn’t even know what to say to toji’s brashness.
gojo chimes in with his loud mouth while everyone is still buzzing from toji’s unexpected words. “talking about kisses and stuff like. this guy’s just saying what he wants to hear!”
everyone starts creasing up again and you & toji lean your heads to look at each other on opposing ends of the table, and he just smirks at you while you just shake your head and try not to look so obvious..
౨ৎ fourth clip
vogue did a video with you getting ready for a fashion show you were invited to, by the designer herself.
the makeup artists had just finished your shimmery, fairy-like makeup and now the stylists were accessorising you with jewellery and fixing your hair.
“yeah i really like how the hair is done,” you say, referring to the baby pink ribbon tied cutely around your bun. “it’s really cute! and the dress is just so-”
the door to the dressing room opens and toji pokes his head in, the camera zooming in on him. “‘ya done yet?”
“toji?” you ask, exasperated. “toji get out! we’re not finished yet..”
toji looks you up and down in confusion. “ya look done to me. we gotta leave in like-”
“toji i am clearly not finished. we have to go through which jewellery looks the best with the neckline of the dress and..my whole look altogether so it doesn’t drown me out! and then we have to pick the correct shoes and make sure i’m comfortable with them and that they look pretty but also don’t take attention away from the dress. and then for the perfume-”
“yeah, yeah, alright, i get it.” toji totes. “but we have to be there in 30 minutes so-”
“oh toji’.” you sigh, looking in the mirror while the stylist fuss around you. “it’s okay if we’re late. i’m the main event. the designer invented me personally. they won’t even start the show if i’m not there. it’ll be fine, trust me.”
toji looks at you for a moment and then simply shrugs, nodding and accepting your words.
౨ৎ fifth clip
“so yeah, this is the book i’m reading.” you hold up ‘pride & prejudice’ to the camera for your fans to see. you were on a livestream, which you don’t usually do, and many fans were watching. “i just love this book. the characters are-”
loud, thudding footsteps can be heard in the background and you pause. a deep, clearly a man’s voice can be heard and then a shirtless toji walks into frame (as identified by his tattoos bc his face is not on camera). he reaches out of frame.
“sorry, jus’ forgot my shirt.”
he puts his shirt on, not even realising what he just did in front of 50,000 people and walks out of the room
it all happened so fast, you sit with your jaw open like a fish, holding your now forgotten book in your hand while the chat goes wild, spamming questions of “who is that?” “is that toji?” “you and toji are together?” in a frantic, chaotic fashion.
you just look at the camera and reach forward, abruptly ending the live. fans did not stop talking about this moment for months and they most certainly did not believe you when you said toji was just at your house for a little ‘visit’.
౨ৎ
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tag list: @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie
a/n: yk how hard it is to think of ideas for this omg 😭💔
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