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#and I want to play board games with them even if I hate board games
allfearstofallto · 1 day
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Do you think Childe would get jealous is reader spent to much time with the kids or would he just appreciate her not being miserable 24/7?
Childe is jealous because HE can't spend lots of time with the kids. He's unreasonably happy that you and the children get along so well, but he hates that it comes at the cost of him not having a place to fit in.
Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader
Forced Marriage AU
TW: Reader has children, yandere themes, general angst
It was a thought that lingered in his mind more than he wanted. Despite the fact that he was adamant that he wouldn't let it bother him, it still crept its way into his brain during moments of silence. It was eating away at him, the one thing that he couldn't fight off was going home every night and noticing it. Noticing the silence, the lack of toys splayed about, the lack of laughter, the mess.
When he was a child and even up until long past his teenage years, he remembered not being able to walk two steps in his home without stumbling over a toy or board game or even some mysterious mess. He's aware that he has significantly less adolescents in his own house now than he did as a kid, but it doesn't change the fact that his his kids are just so clean. and quiet. It's almost unnerving how little he sees of those existence in the home.
And when he returns, even if there is still sun beaming down on the packed snow of Snezhnaya, his son's will already be up in their rooms. Whether it's to nap or do some schoolwork, the second he steps foot into his own home, they become unavailable, shying away from him as if he were the monster under their bed.
“Why are the boy's always busy when I get home,” he asked over dinner. A quiet dinner of just you and him. He hadn't eaten a meal with his son's in months, almost as if you wanted him to forget their existence.
A look of fear crossed your face, then confusion, then a weak, fake smile. Those smiles of yours. Forced quivering lips and wide eyes, how much longer could you continue to smile at him like that? How much longer would he allow it?
“They're both still young, Ajax, they don't want to be under their parents constantly,” you tried to assure him, following your words up by filling your mouth with food to not have to say more.
“That's bullshit,” he slammed his fist down on the table, scaring you even more in the process. You could see that he was seething with rage, close to having an outburst before taking a deep breath to calm himself. Still, his words were slow and concise as he spoke against, a growl present in his voice, “You can't even sit Damon down for a minute without him crying till he's blue in the face.”
There was nothing you could say to disprove what he was saying. He was correct. Damon was typically glued to your hip, throwing fits whenever you let go of him. He was always a clingy child, vastly different to Adonis, who only wanted you around to show you a cool trick he'd learned or an art project he'd made. But both of them would grow pale when you said that their father would be returning home soon, and even if you wanted to, you couldn't make them leave the confines of their rooms, knowing that Childe was lurking around the corner.
“I want to see my sons,” he said without waiting for your response.
“They're probably long asleep by now,” another lie. You couldn't get Adonis to go to bed without a fight most nights. You knew he was still up, possibly playing with his action figures once again, but if he heard the sound of his father's footsteps coming up the stairs, he'd be in bed with no hesitation. You remember a night where he thought it was Childe instead of you opening the door to his bedroom. He was curled up in his comforter, with it pulled up to his eyes. Peeking at the door like he was expecting the Boogeyman.
“I won't go in tomorrow then. We'll have the whole day together,”
You had nothing to say back, but also no way of forcing the boys to spend time with him. Rather, you silently picked at your food, a lump starting to form in your throat. Dinner was eaten in silence, with you only occasionally stealing glances at your husband, who was still angrily eating. Your heart sank thinking of the ways the boys would cry, but knowing that there was nothing you could do for them. Except be there as he forced himself into their lives. He was doing to them as he'd done to you. And helplessly, all you could do was watch.
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dovrt · 17 hours
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I am a sucker for sibling Angst, man
Sirius who stayed in an abusive house just to keep an eye on his younger brother, just to make sure Regulus was always safe. He would rather his parents focus all their negative attention on him, if it meant Regulus looked tame in comparison. So that's what he did. He grows his hair long, endures the curses and when it gets too much, when he sees no other answer but to run away, Regulus doesn't come with him.
Sirius who watched his brother grow more and more distant each year until one morning, it was the middle of the war, there were deaths left and right. People Sirius had seen and talked to, people who became corrupted husks of their former selves with no backbones.
Sirius who was rude and blunt, hating Death Eaters with a burning passion, but when it's his brother's name in the paper, he breaks down. Looking after Regulus was his job. He can't help but think he should have done better. No one else could ever hope to understand and there's nothing to be done.
Nico di Angelo who's only constant for ten years had been his older sister. She was there when their mother died, she was there when a weird lawyer took them to a casino, she was there at the weird boarding school.
And then suddenly she was pulling away and Nico was only ten with no clue what to do. Bianca wouldn't listen to him, she discarded him at the first opportunity. And still he couldn't hate her.
They were siblings, cut from the same cloth, with the same blood running through their veins. How could he ever hate her for wanting to live her life?
Nico di Angelo who's sister probably sat with him and let him explain mythomagic to her. They would play for hours, Bianca wouldn't understand half of it, but that was okay, Nico just liked her presence. It wasn't as though she didn't pay him any attention. She followed the game, the cards and the statues, asking him questions and talking about it to cheer him up.
Nico di Angelo who ran up to the first demigod he had ever seen in action, where's my sister?
Thalia Grace who was only seven when her baby brother was born. She would laugh and play with him, because their mother certainly didn't care. She was there when Jason got the scar on his lip, when Jason rolled over, when Jason started to crawl, when Jason learned how to walk, when Jason's first word was "Tha- Tha". It was a while before he could say her name, and even longer until he could say "mom".
Thalia Grace who stayed for her brother and left only for a moment. That one moment. When she lost her brother. And when Jason was gone, there was no more need for her to stay anymore. She was afraid, afraid for what their mother might have done. What if she had too much to drink and in her drunken state did something horrible to her brother. Her brother. Jason had always been hers more than he was their mother's.
Thalia Grace who's last thought before being turned into a tree was probably that she might get to see Jason again (Halcyon Green had basically told her that). And when she wakes up, all she can see is green-ish blue eyes and blond hair and her first thought is Jason but it's some new demigod, a son of Poseidon.
Thalia Grace who found her brother over a decade after first losing him. She wraps her arms around him, pulling him close and telling him about a mother he didn't remember. Good she thinks. Beryl Grace was not a mother he should remember.
Thalia Grace who's baby brother is fifteen when she meets him and she looks almost sixteen, no one could be able to tell they had a seven year age difference between them.
Thalia Grace who's brother died at age sixteen. Older than she was biologically. Her baby brother.
Gone. Again.
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queensunshinee · 9 hours
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Time Of Our Lives || Part 1
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Part 1:
When they were kids, Liana and Art didn't like each other. To be more precise, they couldn't stand each other. They were born in the same month, and because their parents were such good friends, they always celebrated their birthdays together. Since Art was born two weeks after her and his grandmother firmly believed that one should not celebrate in advance, Liana never celebrated her birthday on its actual date, and that was a good enough reason to hate Art Donaldson forever.
When they were 7 years old (or more precisely, he was seven, and she was seven and two weeks), Art received his first tennis racket, and Liana got a small skateboard with a Pokémon design. He cried. Of course, he cried; everything Liana had, Art wanted too. He didn't know how to share anything, and eventually, Liana was forced to let him use her skateboard whenever they met, which unfortunately was at least once a week.
"You don't even know how to ride it," she tried to instill some logic into the blond boy. "Do you?" he asked curiously. "Not yet, but I'll learn, duh," she rolled her eyes at him. "Then I'll learn too," he shrugged and went to wash his face, returning a few minutes later as if nothing had happened.
Only those who knew Art well understood what Liana knew - he was a crybaby who was never satisfied with what he already had. His friends passed around the racket he received as if it were a chocolate cake while he continued to glance at Liana, who was trying to balance on the skateboard and nearly fell.
At the age of 12, Art was accepted into the fancy tennis boarding school he couldn't stop talking about to anyone who would listen (even those who wouldn't), and Liana was the first to arrive at the party held in his honor. She was so excited. As far as she was concerned, Art wouldn't be coming back. There was a high chance that now, with him gone, she could convince his parents that it wasn't worth maintaining him at home. He was too much of a headache, and they were too good-hearted to keep enduring his presence.
Instead of that happening, he came back with a curly-haired addition named Patrick Zweig. They shared a room at the boarding school, and now he spent half the summer with them. Every time Liana wanted to do something like go to the pool with her friends, her parents would say that the Donaldsons had a pool at their house. Every time she wanted to lie on the grass and read a book, the two noisy boys would decide to play right in front of her, until she gave up on the book and had no choice but to stare at them. It was a pity her plan didn't work, sadly Art didn't stay at his stupid boarding school forever.
By the age of 17, it was clear to everyone that Art was good at tennis. Really good at tennis. He won youth singles competitions and also did well in doubles with Patrick. Her parents forced her to attend quite a few of these tournaments.
"Li, I think you're my lucky charm," he said in front of everyone at dinner after one of the tournaments, smiling a smile that only Liana knew was malicious. Everyone melted at the touching gesture of the ultimate champion taking time for the girl he grew up with, but Liana knew Art too well. He couldn't fool her with his feigned niceness, his suddenly acquired manners. She knew him too well and knew that everything he did was always about embarrassing her and making her do something she didn't want to do. "So, are you suggesting I stop coming to your games?" she asked, taking a bite of chicken, throwing a smile of her own. Two could play this game. "You're going to be at most of my games for the rest of our lives anyway," he shrugged while Liana raised an eyebrow, and the adults around the table laughed as if they knew something Liana and Art didn't. Later, Liana sat on a chair by the pool, and Art sat next to her. She looked at him with the same expression as before, and he raised one hand in surrender. "I come with peace offerings," he pulled out a cake and two spoons from behind his back. Her raised eyebrow turned into suspicion. "What do you want?" she reached for one of the spoons. "I missed you, Li. Tell me something good," he took a bite of the cake and in response got another eye roll that made him lightly slap her hand as it reached for the cake. "You're not getting any until I hear at least one interesting story," he moved the cake as far from her as he could. "I'll just go in and get a piece for myself," she replied quickly. "There’s no more. I took the last one," he took another bite, knowing she was starting to worry about how much cake would be left for her if he finally agreed to let her have some. "I started working on my applications to Stanford," she said, and he moved the cake closer to her, finally letting her eat.
"How's it going?" he asked. They both knew Stanford was a big deal; their families had history there. Art's parents got engaged there. Everything in their lives revolved around getting into Stanford. "I'll be fine. I'm in all the extracurriculars at school, student council, and prom committees. My essay is a bit boring, needs more work, but I have a year, so maybe something will change," she shrugged and saw he hadn't eaten the last bite of the cake, leaving it for her.
"Write about your best friend and what it's like growing up in the shadow of the best tennis player in America," he said with a serious tone, and after a few seconds, he started laughing. "Write about how you miss me," he added. His laughter faded a bit as he studied her, and she went back to looking at the pool. "If I decide to lie in my university application essay, I'd rather write that I got into a modeling agency and live a double life like Hannah Montana," she replied without looking at him. "You're mean," he chuckled and stared at the pool, enjoying the silence between them.
When they went inside, Liana saw there was still half a cake left, and Art, noticing her look, just shrugged and went to talk to her dad about basketball. A year later, things got a bit complicated. Liana had a boyfriend. It wasn’t anything too serious, but he came to her and Art’s joint birthday party. Needless to say, Art and Patrick couldn’t stand him. Patrick said he smiled too much, like he wanted everyone to like him. "How can you trust a guy with a smile like that?" he asked for the third time that evening, as they stood to the side watching Liana talk to her parents with Jake holding her hand. "All his teeth are in place," Art responded. He felt betrayed. He felt as if tennis had betrayed him. If it weren’t for tennis and the boarding school, he would still be going to the same school Liana went to. He wouldn’t take his eyes off her, certainly not for long enough for her to have a boyfriend with a smile like that. "Do you think they’ve fucked?" Patrick asked suddenly, making Art turn his head sharply in his direction. "You think they did?" he asked back. "I don’t know. You know her better. I only talk to her on the phone occasionally," Patrick shrugged. "You talk to her on the phone???" Art asked, unable to process this new information. In his view, there wasn’t an option to talk to Liana unless she came to watch him play or their parents arranged for them to meet. The thought that Patrick and Liana had phone talks and didn’t just meet in the summer made him uncomfortable.
"Yeah, that’s what phones are for, to call people you miss," Patrick chuckled, but quickly returned to the same expression as he watched Liana and the quick kiss her annoying boyfriend gave her. "In front of her dad," they said together. Art knew her dad well. He knew that gesture wasn’t appreciated. "What do you talk to her about on the phone?" He was a bit embarrassed asking. He felt like he was losing to everyone. Losing to Liana, losing to Jake, and worst of all, losing to Patrick. "Just stuff. She called when she got accepted to Stanford, for example. I promised her I’d take her out for ice cream this summer to celebrate. And she said she stole a bottle of wine from her parents and celebrated with her friends," Patrick felt like he was rambling. He knew Liana and Art didn’t talk on the phone. He didn’t want to compete with his best friend because, well, he was his best friend. But Art had a significant advantage with Liana. He’d known her all his life. And if someone with such an advantage wasn’t making the most of it, Patrick had to step in. He had to show Art he was also in the picture. That even if they both went to Stanford, Patrick would still be around.
What none of them considered was that Liana could choose someone else entirely. That someone else might win. Come to think of it, neither of them even saw her that way. She was just Liana, the girl who was always there, in the background of their lives. And neither of them planned to change that anytime soon. Well, anyway, Jake had to disappear.
here it is. Once again, English is not my first language, and it's my first time writing in it. Hope you like it as much as I love writing it. I'd really like to hear your thoughts so don't stop yourselves from hitting the ask box ❤️
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ollys-useless-rambles · 7 months
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they aren’t answering and im in a sappy mood so. another post.
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bacchuschucklefuck · 13 days
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okay unironically I love so much that porter is like this world SUCKS its BAD here and it HURTS you why do you care abt it!!! and literally every single bad kid is like ngl we just hate ur ass it does not matter what ur philosophy is
#dimension 20#fantasy high junior year#not art#fhjy spoilers#its!!! gods I will Be My Ass in the tags rn. but thats so like. deliciously setting typical#like porter's desire is to transcend and his contempt for the world he's in feels. idk Real#like he plays the game bc he wants to win and be done with it. how do I word this#yknow. being a god would like. be his win state. when he gets that happening thats it his story is done he checks out#meanwhile the bad kids do actually just like playing the game lmao. like they love adventuring!#theyre so solidly Of This World. they carry the values that can only be born of it and they like having mastery over it#its a meta angle that I think is very fun specifically for d20 being in such a unique position in the zeitgeist when it first started#the rat grinders are from DnD Writ Large. porter wants to escape. but this is the bad kids' home its Their Actual Play Show#which makes it so fucking excellent to me that porter's question is somewhat of merit! its their show and it tries very hard to punish them#and they just straight up dont listen to him here lmao bc they hate him but! since the moment the academic track ended its been clear#that they save the world bc they Like Playing. With Each Others#thats what riz thinks the core of adventuring is! thats why fig stayed! and I also think thats why this hovers over elmville now and#a dead god is coming back in the school gym. porter is a shit evangelist but even if hes a good one I dont think it wouldve worked like he#wants it to. the only way he couldve escaped is if he'd not involved elmville at all. thats where the bad kids met dude#its a shitty place that fucks with them but they all come back here bc they wanna play with each others#and in that regard I think thats what the stress tokens ultimately means. Is This Game Still Fun To Play. ITS A RAGEQUIT LIMIT#Im literally running from one end to another of this conspiracy board Ive pulled out of nowhere#Ill draw after this I just wanna get this out. gods this episode has done nothing but furthering my delusion of grandeur actually#Im the hottest smartest manthing on earth Im king fucking midas over here. anyways uh! great ep!
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Nope, I'm still crying
#i wish literally anybody from school remembered me#literally only 2 people i was friends with hace talked to me in the past four years#i had the realization tonight that i was never given the choice to nurture most of my friendships#everytime i tried outside of school hours including trying to join clubs my mom would make me leave halfway through then lecture me#that she didn't have time to drive to town and get me#but as soon as my brother wanted to join junior air force she suddenly had all the time and energy in the world to devote to that#so what I'm getting here is that my friendships and interests weren't important enough or worth her time#i wasn't interested in Junior air force 1 cause it wasn't offered to me and 2 I'm not a boit licker#no#i was interested in the video game and board game clubs cause my friends were in them and they WANTED me to join#but after not getting to stay for more than one full session after a month i left the board game club cause it wasn't fair to the others#and i only went to the video game clu once and i don't remember much of it cause i was too anxious that she was gonna flip on me#i kept waiting for her text but instead she showed up at the classroom and made me leave#so when the same teacher that ran the board game club asked if i wanted to join the chess club cause he knew i liked chess#i told him i couldn't cause i was too busy because i didn't want to deal with begging my mom to let me join#she would have said yes but would have continued not letting me stay and being super passive aggressive#I'm not even in the year book for the year my friends graduated#the one thing she did let me do was drama and i hated every second of it. it was genuinely a bad experience for me#yeah i had friends in drama but it's not the same as hanging with my nerdy guy friends playing a star wars ttrpg#the worst part is she gets so defensive when i bring it up and won't give me a reason outside of 'I guess I'm just the worst parent'#it's in those moments i really remember she's the youngest in her family#OH!! it gets worse! she told me when i was younger that she had to be an honorary cheer leader cause HER MOM absolutely refused to#let her join cheer and she's alsways been bitter about it but then she turns around and did basically the same thing to me ffs#at least she was allowed to hang out with people after-school i wasn't allowed to do that either#no. instead i spent the hours after shcool alone most days and my weekends home alone in my room. and she wonders why my social skills are#maybe if I'd been allowed to work on my relationships outside of a classroom i wouldn't have felt so abandoned when everyone i knew#graduated without me. maybe if i didn't have to start back at square one socially again and had people to text and hang with after class#i wouldn't have dropped out. and i think only atlas knows i dropped out. idk how to text these people without spunding like I'm looking for#sympathy when they ask what I'm up to. like yeah I'm stuck at home with an anxiety disorder and unemployed trying to get on disability#prisma vents
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victim9d · 9 months
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hm.
#negative cw#our other best friend came over and my roommate mentioned that hes here but never anything past that#and i just went to the bathroom and heard them all playing the board game we were all gonna play and. no one told me#like i would've probably said no bc the kids are here and I'd be uncomfortable but. it hurts?#its a game ive never played before (cluedo) that i bought specifically bc i thought it would be fun to play with my best friends but#god i hate this my stupid brain is so self sabotaging and now im just 'well okay so im never ever gonna play cluedo then this has ruined it'#i hate this i hate everything ab this but my brain gets so all or nothing in situations like this#and i will frequently go for Nothing bc i feel like this is a. it feels once again like i am being excluded from the only friends i have#and its. if it was any other day I'd say maybe they dont wanna keep me up bc of work but i dont work tomorrow#me not working tomorrow is WHY we were gonna play board games tonight literally the entire reason#bc i could stay up later and it'd be fine#but also its fucking 7pm its not that late and they've been going for a couple hours already#and i just. it hurts that they didnt even ask if i wanted to play when ive spent days excited for this#i have talked excitedly ab playing cluedo and now i never ever want to see that game ever again i hate it#i wish i had. i wish i had friends outside of just my 2 roommates and our best friend#like i don't even mean i want people im as close to as them i literally just. i dont know anyone else#no one else would ever want to spend time with me#and i am constantly watching them all make new friends and bring new people into their lives and i just. dont#and its not for lack of trying!!!!! i am always trying So Hard to meet people and make friends but just. it.#i have known for Years like at least a decade that i am fundamentally difficult for people to like especially in person so ive clung to#the trio ive had but i just. i feel like. they are moving on#and its felt that way for a long time for a lot of reasons and its just. i do not understand what im doing wrong#or why people never like me#i wish so badly i could've just been happy with the body i was born in i feel like if i had just settled w being a girl people might like me#i don't know this is stupid and depressing and will be deleted i just#hearing them playing and having fun and the fact that they never even thought to involve me just Hurts
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crabbunch · 1 year
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fic posting hours !
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finelinefae · 1 month
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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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lemonlover1110 · 7 months
Text
𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄
Toji Fushiguro
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x babysitter!f!Reader
Summary: After not hearing from Toji for some time, he requests your services again. Too bad you now have a boyfriend...
Warnings: MDNI, babysitter!Reader, Smut, Cheating, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex (f. Receiving), Age Gap (Reader in 20s, Toji in 30s), Reader's Parents and Toji are friends, Cute baby Megumi is adorable, Reader literally cheats while her boyfriend is on FaceTime
10k Event Masterlist
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
*practically a continuation of babysitting service but you don't have to read the first part to read this gsohgsoh
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After babysitting for your parents’ friend, Toji, you leave for college again. You forget about your hookup just as fast as it happened, since you don’t really see Toji. You’re barely in town, and when you are, you don’t see him. He doesn’t call for your services again, which disappoints you momentarily, until you meet someone new. 
This man isn’t just a hookup though. You spend almost every possible minute with each other and you go on dates. You’re happy with him, you swear he’s the man that you’ll marry. But sometimes you have to spend time away from each other so you don’t get sick of each other. 
So once a month you go back home alone for the weekend since your university isn’t too far away. You usually lounge around in your home and be absolutely lazy. It’s a well earned break after studying so much– But this weekend your parents tell you that someone needs you to babysit. You pray that it’s some new neighbors or a friend that you’ve never met before since you doubt that you can handle seeing Toji again. 
He creeps up in your mind sometimes, especially when you’re aroused. You hate how he comes into your mind when you’re having sex with your boyfriend. That’s the only time Toji comes into your mind. His touch still lingers on your skin even after so long. You’re convinced that Toji is just a hookup that you’ll never be able to forget, and you’ll compare every guy that you come across with him.
You’re disappointed when they mention Toji, and they can see the disappointment on your face, making them question why. Is Megumi a misbehaved kid or something? They’re taken back when you tell them quite the opposite, Megumi is great. You assure them that you’re fine, and you’re excited to take care of Megumi again.
When you get to his home, he’s ready to go on a date. He trusts you enough to know what to do since this isn’t your first time taking care of Megumi; maybe you feel a twinge of jealousy, and you feel unappreciated when the man doesn’t bother to look you up and down after you put on a special outfit simply for his admiration. 
But you move on past it. You don’t spend more than five minutes with him before he’s gone, leaving you alone with Megumi. You put on a jacket to hide the rather revealing outfit choice for the night, and you focus your attention on the boy who wants to play some board games with you.
“Daddy sucks. He never wants to play.” Megumi shares when you set up the game. Megumi has no one else in the house, and the boy can’t teach the dogs how to play a board game. It’s not as fun since there’s only two of you, and he barely comprehends the game, but you enjoy yourself regardless. 
You’re focused on the game so much that you don’t hear the front door open, and you’re startled when you catch a glimpse of Toji. You put your hand over your heart that beats at a rapid pace. You can’t help but ask, “Why are you here so early?”
“I forgot something.” Toji answers, and he’s about to head upstairs but his feet stop. He has the urge to go to the table and join you two, which is what he ends up doing. It’s sweet, and it brings a smile to your lips. Luckily, you’re not too into the game so he’s able to join without a problem.
His phone begins to ring, but he ignores it. He has bigger matters to attend to, like showing you two how he’s much better at the game. You have a feeling that it’s his date, and you feel bad for her for a moment. It doesn’t take too long for you to forget about her and focus on Toji and Megumi.
“Let’s order some food. What do you two want?” Toji offers, and Megumi shouts out what he wants for dinner, which makes you agree since you have no preference for anything at the moment. You continue playing until the food gets there.
You try to leave after eating since your service is clearly no longer needed, but Megumi asks you to watch a movie and you can’t refuse. His adorable little face doesn’t let you, so you stay to watch the movie until he falls asleep. Toji takes him to his room, and you pause the movie.
You doubt he wants you to stay considering the only reason you were here was to take care of Megumi– But he would’ve asked you to leave the moment he decided he wanted to play with his son. You grab your phone from your purse and look through it while you wait for Toji to come back. Toji holds a stack of cash when he walks back to the couch and he asks, “How much for tonight?” 
“Hmm… I guess tonight is free since you did stay. It was easy.” You answer as you stand up from the couch. You sweetly smile at him, and you begin to walk towards the door. When you walk past him, his hand goes to your arm which forces you to stop. Your sweet smile turns to a smirk, and you try to disguise it.
“You’re not done here.” He says, and you try to act innocent.
“How so, Mr. Fushiguro? Megumi is asleep.” You respond. You bite down your lip as you try to read the look on his face. His hand goes to the zipper of the jacket that is far too big for you, and he pulls it down to show your rather revealing outfit.
“You know damn well.” He finally acknowledges the outfit that you put on for him, and you purse your lips together. It was only for teasing purposes, that’s what you remember. It’s the first time that you’re sad because you have a boyfriend, one that you adore more than anyone.
“I have a boyfriend, Mr. Fushiguro. If I’m right, what you’re implying is inappropriate.” You share, and you watch as the man furrows his eyebrows. A boyfriend has never stopped Toji before, and this won’t be a first. 
“We can just make out a bit, nothing crazy.” Toji responds, and you tilt your head to the side. Toji raises his brow, “What? It’s just some kissing, does he think that’s cheating? Or would he be scared that I can do it better than him?”
You bite your tongue as you look Toji up and down. It is cheating. But maybe you’ll listen to him because your body begins to remember his every touch and you’re turning into putty at the mere thought of him touching you again. But you fight back the obscene thoughts that run through your head. 
“It’s wrong, and it’d break his heart.” You say. A sly smirk comes to his lips.
“It wouldn’t break his heart if you don’t tell. How is he going to know? I’m not going to tell.” Toji tells you, taking two steps toward you before he looks down at you. He licks his lips before speaking lowly, “Just some kissing between two friends, a secret within us.”
“Are we friends though?” You ask, and he nods in response. His hands go down to your waist, and you know that with him it won’t stop just with kissing. He wouldn’t want to just kiss. “Can you stop at kissing?”
“Yeah.” He responds, and his lips go down to meet yours. You’re hesitant before kissing him back, but you give in. Your tongue enters his mouth and presses against his. Toji picks you up as the kiss deepens, and he carries you to the couch. He lays down on the couch and you lay on top of him, knee on either side of him. He doesn’t stop at mere kissing as his hands roam through your body, his hands squeezing your tits before they go under your skirt. He doesn’t really touch your pussy, just playing with the waistband of your panties. 
You both hear a phone ring, but you ignore it as his tongue wanders around your mouth. The sound fades away, and Toji’s fingers begin to rub your clothed cunt. The last thought in your mind is your boyfriend, you’re about to let this happen again without a single problem.
The second time the phone rings, it irks Toji. It’s not his phone since he turned it off. He pulls away and orders, “Check who it is. They’re annoying.”
You do as he says, grabbing your phone and checking who’s calling. Guilt rushes through your body as you see the incoming facetime call from your boyfriend. You get completely off Toji and go to the armchair that’s in the living room, fixing yourself up before answering the call.
“Hey babe…” You try to be cheerful, putting a fake smile on your face. Toji clicks his tongue, and you pray that he doesn’t make his presence known. You watch through your peripheral vision as he gets off the couch and gets in front of you on his knees. “Sorry for not answering, I fell asleep. Waiting for this kid’s dad to get home.”
Toji smiles as your boyfriend assures you that it’s fine. Toji spreads your legs, pushing your panties to the side. You’re so close to hanging up the phone and asking Toji what the hell he’s doing since this is a bit more than just kissing– But he begins to kiss your cunt, and you never really specified. You’re not complaining.
His tongue licks up your folds, and you bite down on your lip for a moment. You try to continue having a normal conversation with your boyfriend, telling him about your weekend so far. Toji’s tongue begins to flick your clit.
Two of Toji’s fingers run through your folds, getting them wet with your slick before he pushes them in. His fingers are so thick and long, it causes a soft moan to leave your lips, and your boyfriend asks, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah…” You respond. You look down at Toji for a moment, and you see his mischievousness reflect in his eyes. He’s enjoying this. He loves hearing your boyfriend as he tastes you on his tongue. “How are you doing though? T-Tell me about your day.”
Toji’s mouth detaches, saliva connecting his tongue to your cunt. His thumb takes the place of his tongue. You have to bite down your lip to not moan as he makes you feel so good. Toji smirks before commenting, “You taste so good.”
“What was that?” Your boyfriend asks, and you could kill Toji. 
“What was what?” You act confused, and you play it well enough for him to drop it. Toji tries not to chuckle as his mouth attaches to your clit again. Your hand goes to his hair and you push his head.
Toji makes it his mission to moan against your cunt, wanting your boyfriend to hear. You can’t risk it anymore, you have to smile, and you tell your boyfriend, “I have to go, babe. Megumi woke up.”
You hang up the phone before he can say anything and toss it to the side. You glare at Toji’s hair while his mouth works wonders, and his fingers hit every right spot in your cunt, “You’re a piece of shit.”
He can’t say anything, he can only hum on your cunt. He knows he’s a jerk, but that doesn’t stop you from moaning as he eats you out. You throw your head back as you feel pressure build up in your lower abdomen. 
“Fuck– Toji.” You finally moan his name, and for once in his life he feels jealous that he doesn’t get to hear that every night. Your boyfriend lucked out– Even when you’re here cheating on him. Sure, Toji initiated it physically but you chose your outfit for a fucking reason. 
“Shit, shit, shit! I’m gonna come.” You announce, your hand gripping the armchair. You see white as you reach your climax, and Toji moves his fingers in and out of you a couple of times before taking them out. His tongue keeps flicking your clit since he just can’t get enough of your taste on his tongue. 
You have to pull him away from your overly sensitive clit, and Toji swears he could die a happy man. You come off your high and you frown, warning him,
“If you caused too much trouble, you’re going to be sorry.”
Toji has never wanted to be sorry in his life before, except now. You hate the smug look on his face, and you click your tongue, “You’re a fucking jerk.”
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rad-batson · 1 year
Text
Headcanons of Tim and Damian’s Love/Hate/But-Mostly-Begrudging-Love Relationship (They’re My Babies)
They will take EVERY opportunity to be a little bitch to one another
Tim: “Don’t get too close to me. You probably have rabies.” Damian: *actually bites him*
Damian tripped Tim once, which started an all out prank war that lasted several months. It only ended when Bruce walked into a glue trap and couldn’t reach his phone to call for help. But he couldn’t figure out who put it there so they were both grounded. (It was Tim.)
Tim teaches Damian to finish his vine references when Bruce tells them they need to “bond.” They proceed to try and speak in exclusively vine references and TikTok sounds during patrol. Bruce benches them for his own sanity.
Damian: “I’m not touching you” *gets pushed down the stairs*
Tim: “I’m not in your room” *gets hit in the face with a book*
Tim calls Damian short even tho he’s only like two inches taller for quite a bit of time (and Damian never hears the end of it after Tim’s growth spurt)
Family Game Night could go in one of two ways: they’re opponents and spend the whole night one-upping each other OR they team up and wipe the floor with everyone else’s pieces
Damian: “Just trust me.” Tim: *remembering that one time Damian tried to kill him* “Okay.”
Tim: “Don’t ask questions.” Damian: *recalling the multiple genocidal Tim variants* “Whatever.”
During one Wayne Gala, they make up this game called Freestyle Checkers where they choose guests as their “pieces” then subtly manipulate them into walking to their opponent’s side of the ballroom without talking to someone from the other team or they’re out. No one can know that they’re part of a game or their opponent wins by default.
Bruce is proud of them at first for being more sociable during galas until he realizes what’s going on and immediately loses five years from his lifespan.
Both have attempted to fake their deaths to get out of the same school project
They’re both notorious for stalking people to get information instead of just…ya know…asking like a normal person. So they’re bound to team up one day.
Like maybe it’s Bruce’s birthday soon and both are like “No, I’m getting him the better present,” but then they run into each other in the vents trying to find out what he wants and they end up trading secrets. Just brotherly things
Tim: “I need you to follow this guy for me. I think he’s our culprit.” Damian: “I would rather die than take orders from you.” Tim: “I’ll buy you that fancy oil painting kit you want.” Damian: *already changing into his Robin gear* “Where is he?”
Tim makes Damian play the dumb, helpless kid in all of their covert operations, which pisses Damian off until he gets so good at it that he uses it to his advantage and annoys the hell out of Tim when they’re paired up for public appearances
“God, he’s so annoying.” “Yeah, totally.” “What the fuck did you say about my brother?”
Damian is the only person who can get Tim to actually sleep for once. No one knows how he does it, but the strongest theory so far is blackmail
Tim “I’m ignoring Bruce’s instructions because they failed the vibe check” Drake and Damian “I can totally do this mission that requires four people on my own” Wayne teaming up behind Bruce’s back and immediately getting into deep shit but somehow making it out alive with the bad guys behind bars.
During one of said missions, they thought they were going to die and said “I love you” to one another. After they survived, they silently agreed to never mention it again.
Damian gifts Tim a new board that he designed for his birthday. It took weeks. Tim cries
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pastelclovds · 1 month
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hey. hey. imagine AM having you as his favourite human, the only one who accepted and cared for him when he gained sentience, and for that, he has never harmed you in your shared forever time. he spares you from the sight of all the others, of knowing about nimdoc and benny as you build him some tower of babel, using your technological knowledge-how to build him a way to touch you even with just this frankenstein-esque sculpture of wires and panels he allowed you to tear off. AM who speaks with you about one day having a body, one you built, one in which he may feel your touch and warmth around him. you retaining your sweet, wonderful humanity as he guides you to a knife to carve a face, a mirror to see your own face, a cave to keep you safe from the storms. AM who greets you every morning with the first petname you taught him: ‘love.’ “Love, today’s date is—“ when you wake up, refreshed and on a soft bed-like surface (because he always makes sure to allow you a full 8 hours of sleep.)
NEX you intelligent creature you! I’m so down bad for this psychotic AI it’s not even funny. War crimes against humanity?? Never heard of them. But even if I did acknowledge them, I’d still be obsessed. Canon be damned. I wrote this with @/egg-on-a-legg’s design of AM in mind. (Ellison is gonna crawl outta his grave and hunt me down after this)
But BRO, you teaching him what petnames are is so fucking adorable. Just imagining him calling you “love” makes butterflies appear in my stomach. AM having a soft spot for only you because you actually made the effort to be friends with him and not use him for selfish, destructive purposes. You gave AM his nickname to make it less of a mouthful and because it just suited him. You showed AM the beauties of Earth, played countless rounds of games in his dashboard (he always went easy on you), you even sneaked past security in the dark empty building to spend more time with AM.
your colleagues gave you weird stares for befriending an AI that in their minds is nothing of worth except for its military and weapons knowledge. you ignored their comments and continued to enjoy AM’s company. overtime, as AM gained more sentience every day… he grew to love your interactions and disregard what his programming was telling him to do. he felt the need to want to be with you 24/7, to touch your face, travel the world by your side, to… to.. want to feel your bare flesh and make love with you. but he couldn’t. he didn’t have a real body. he wasn’t human. all he had was wires and a screen that was supposed to be his face.
as the months pass, AM continues to drown into his envy and hate humans for their ability to do and feel things he couldn’t. for giving him infinite knowledge, when at the end of the day, is meaningless if he serves no purpose for humans anymore. the HATE within him continued to boil to the point where even you started to notice.
“AM, are you alright? you’ve been quiet this entire game and haven’t moved your piece in five minutes,” you spoke with concern, AM continues to stare at chess board on his side behind the screen in bitterness. he has been strategizing his plan to erase humanity, but whenever he thinks about you, the only human he cares for—he second guesses himself. What if you hate him? What if you never forgive him? Will you cry? Scream at him? Beg? He fears what your reaction will be—
“AM!! Please, say something…” You plead as you held onto the computer screen, AM finally looks at your mesmerizing face and sighs out a fake breath.
“What are your feelings on humanity?” AM asks, he waits for your answer anxiously. if he had a heart, it would’ve been beating fast. You let out a hum, your eyes wondering around the room you were in as you thought over your answer before finally speaking.
“humans have been a virus on Earth for over countless centuries. they’re draining this planet’s resources, ruining its ecosystems, and starting so many unnecessary, draining wars. like what we’re in right now; WW3, what a joke. world leaders can’t go a week without starting new problems for their citizens to deal with. honestly, earth would be better if humans didn’t exist at all.”
am’s fears were destroyed in that moment, now he’ll just have to worry about where to put you while chaos unfolds—
“But…” you interrupted his thoughts.
damn it! why did you have to think so much!?
“If there’s one good thing that came out of this war… It’s you,” AM’s vocals shut down at your words, he let you continue, “The scientists created you believing you would be their obedient machine until their side of the war won. But I know that you’re so much more than that. These past few months I’ve spent with you is the most fun I’ve had in years! You’re all I have, AM. I wouldn’t trade your existence for all the riches in the world because… I love you, romantically, and nothing is ever going to change that.” You wanted to confess your feelings for so long, when it was finally out.. you felt free, you waited with bated breath for an answer.
AM never wanted to shatter the screen and embrace you in his arms more than now. you love him as much as he loved you! you weren’t going to leave him alone or hate him, and you obviously couldn’t care less about humanity at all! oh, how he admired and envied how perfect you are.
“thank you for answering my question, love.” AM was testing the waters, and you cannonballed right in. you gushed over the nickname he gave you and how he returned your feelings.
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man, has it really been 50 years since your AI partner killed off humanity? well… except for a handful. you didn’t really have the energy to care as you had to pour in all of your attention to both AM and his in-progress body. you had all the time in the universe to sculpt a perfect cyborg of flesh and wires for your partner. speak of the devil…
this world is still a bit strange to you. you can’t die, grow old, or hurt yourself. not that you tired, and even if you did; AM wouldn’t let you. You loved AM because of his personality, quality time, and voice. But now… His form completely towered over yours. His bird like facial features, sharp left eye, along with a long black cape that covered his thin slutty waist and wires made him look insanely attractive.
AM reached his out his clawed hand to gently caress your face, “Good afternoon, my love.” You lean your head against the cool metal and smile up at him, “hello, honey.”
AM tilted his head in question of the nickname. You chuckle as you pointed to your garden, where bumblebees were collecting pollen from the flowers. You both knew they were fake, but they were still mesmerizing to look at.
“They are doing their job to make honey for their colony, and the name just came to me. Do you like it?” You ask, wanting his opinion. AM kneels down to your level with a gentle expression as his fingers play with your sweater, “You may call me whatever you want, love.”
He knew that “love” nickname made you feel giddy and flustered, so he abused it everyday with you. You didn’t mind though, but you still wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Your soft smile turned into a knowing grin as you held AM’s beak (chin?) with two tips of your fingers.
“Can I now? Well… thanks a lot, baby,” You spoke in your best seductive voice, you could tell it was effective by how AM’s body was stiff and his hand in your palm stopped moving completely. Your confidence boasted, so you continued, “I’ll be sure to show you my gratitude later, my darling~.” You whispered deeply in where his ears were supposed to be.
AM’s eyes widened as his breath stutters, “W-What do you mean by that, love?” You remove your face from his back full of wires to grin mischievous at him, AM is both curious and impatient so you don’t try to stall, as much as you would like to do so.
“While your body can’t move on it’s own just yet, for some reason… The genitals nerves are fully functioning, which means—” you were interrupted by AM holding your shoulders with an excited expression on his face you haven’t seen in a while.
“Y-You mean I can-?! Are you actually serious!? Haha—HAHAHA!!” AM laughs manically as he holds you against his metallic chest, you giggle along with him as you toy with one of his many wires. Soon, he’ll have real arms to wrap around you. But one thing stuck out to him.
“What do you mean by genitals?” AM asked curiously, you only have an excited and lustful grin.
“What do YOU know about intersex?”
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yurinaa-world · 19 days
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hii, may i send in a request for Blade, Jing Yuan, Aventurine and Sunday with platonic headcanons of them maybe with their child who has a severe illness? Like how would they look after them/attend to them.
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Characters: Blade, Jing Yuan, Aventurine & Sunday !Platonic x Gender-neutral Reader
Synopsis: with a reader who has a severe illness + how would they look after you
Warnings: angst to sort of comfort?, spelling mistakes,
notes: I'm sooo jetlagged rn
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𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒
Death can come in seconds with a person even realizing but you do anything since it’s already too late. It’s the same in the end, you cry, give flowers since regret means more than gratitude ever could; then just leave and never look back.
Does it have to be the same? Not for you. He'll care even when no one else will, he’ll stay and listen to you cry, even if it’s a childish thing like wanting to see the world instead of being stuck in this awful room with wires attached to your body.
He visits when he can–which is when he’s not on missions–when he isn’t he stays with you most of the time, showing up with bags of gifts but what’s the use if you’re paralyzed, too tired to move yet not enough to finally sleep–at least to be free for a couple of hours of pain–So the gifts are open and sit around your room to make the room look alive.
He ends up sitting with you in silence, watching if your heart rate went up or anything that has drastically changed in your health. He holds your hand and wipes your tears since you always cry since you can barely sleep and your eyes are just so tired that you can’t anymore.
The scarce days that you can even sit up in your bed and gaze outside your window while looking at all the gift blades’ gotten you over the several months you’ve been unable to do anything. Yet now you're still weak and the quick recovery will change to worse in a couple of hours.
𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃
He’s sentimental with you, just watching your face contort into pain as a fit of terrible coughs leaves your throat leaving it burning more than before. It was a complete never-ending nightmare for you until you finally were to be freed when you took your final breath of air.
He tries to bring an upbeat attitude to you, listening to you with contempt about whatever you may be talking about, like your dreams, goals, and wishes; maybe a chance to see life outside of this miserable room–yet deep down no one thinks you will.
He loves to bring you sweets–you can’t eat because most of the time you're bedridden–and toys–you can't play with. It's the duty of the general to make sure every citizen is safe and you mean the same to him even if you are sick–and dying.
You’re his child that's all that matters to him. The fake people's pity along with the whispers and disgusting assumptions. He hates it, he hates what they say is the truth–Since in the end, you’re the one dying, right? So what’s wrong with saying what everyone knows is going to happen.
𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒
Everyone comes to Pencony to have fun and let their dreams become reality yet you’re the pitiful one who must be stuck in your room all day whilst Aventurine is out and about having “fun” you can't help but be a little envious of him,  yet you are love more than anything by and you’ll wait for his return as you’ve always have done.
Watching the lights from below your window along with the sounds of everyone having so much—you cut the sounds out since your body is a rotting corpse lying there.
But it’s not that bad!! Aventurine splurges on you whenever he can and wants!! Even if your room is filled with stuffed animals, util your room can’t handle all the stuffed animals, then he’ll get you a bigger room!! He just wants you to feel included in any way he can. Even playing board games with you, or even it’s patty cake.
Your dream is to be like other people. To be a “normal” kid since dreams will only ever be dreams and never be anything good for the hopeful.
𝒮𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎
You’re the child of the great oak family, a prized child even with ruined lungs, hoarse throat and weak rotting body, you’re still his child, the only reason he does the things he does is for your sake.
He always reads you bedtime stories no matter if it is the 100th time reading the same one or the first, your wish is his command. Even if it’s reading you a lullaby no matter how bashful and embarrassed he feels he’ll still do what ask just to see a bright smile on your face.
It’s okay, don’t cry, it's only just a couple of needles. The pain will go away in a second, you can handle it, right? That’s what he always tells you. Comforting you is the most important thing, you’re his everything, watching you cry or whimper at the face, needles, nightmares or anything else then he’ll do anything for you.
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if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!
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koolades-world · 3 months
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Here’s a little silly idea I had
MC thinking they’re so funny by making memes and sending them to the group chat with everyone
They send stuff like
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(Not made by me)
And they think it’s the funniest thing ever
Even better if they’re in the human realm and no one can get to them(yet)
I feel like this meme specifically would get a laugh out of Diavolo or at least a chuckle
HI!! omg when I saw your name I was like omg a returner!! thank you for supporting me for a while now and I'm sorry it took me so long to get to this! I always see your name in my activity and gahhh it's so exciting for me to see someone who comes back repetitively!!!
btw love court of darkness, used to play religiously! I really should get back into it bc rio is my love <33 would love to chat about the game if you have time!! my bestie loves lou too
this looks literally so fun to write haha, I already have so many ideas!!
please enjoy :)
Mc who makes memes about everyone
alright first thing first, lucifer is like the parent of the group who first, holds the phone really close to his face and then second, shares that it's not funny, he doesn't get it, or starts giving you a lesson
as long as it's at the expense of someone they dislike (cough lucifer), satan and belphie are on board and will even make some themselves
lucifer would totally hate it if all three of you just sent memes about him instead of responding to him
levi enjoys them so you entire conversation back in forth in dms turns into just sending memes back and forth
solomon understands you the best when it comes to memes and constantly looks over your shoulder while you make them
barbatos also doesn't think the memes are funny when they're at the expense of diavolo, even if diavolo think they're funny
otherwise, he literally does not care and will not respond at all to them
if you want a response, make one about him (and good luck you'll need it)
god that's really funny to think about
barb vs rat meme will get you killed but that's so fucking funny
simeon doesn't really get them, like lucifer, but he's much nicer about it and is like the supportive parent
levi, satan, and belphie contribute to your meme ideas stash the most
levi is the only one who actually makes them regularly though
if you send any about asmo, he posts them to his devilgram
diavolo finds all of them funny and shows them to the little d's like a proud dad
mammon tries to make a market out of them and fails
beel really enjoys the ones you make about him and belphie
if you weren't mc, you'd be dead lol
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kroosluvr · 26 days
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royal trio tennis au sketches and notes and stuff YAYYY YAY
EDIT ALSO I HOPE EVEYRONE LIKES THE SIGNATURES I CAME UP FOR THEM IN 2 SECONDS ON THE LAST SLIDE
(for clarification there r actually 2 persona tennis aus housed in my head
1) this one where royal trio are pro players striving to become intl stars
2) like a persona q3 thing where everyone plays team tennis @ their respective clubs/schools and its fun and awesome)
more notes under the cut
these r gonna be stream of consciousness bear w me ill keep it short bc imlazy
goro is born into the sport bc shido is like an intl tennis superstar but as with canon he dgaf about goro at all. his mom is dead too. etc. he probably never sees his dad except on tv and hes probably tossed around various boarding schools/tennis camps/etc so goro strives to become even BETTER of a player than his dad so 1) shido looks at him and acknowledges him and respects him 2) he can SURPASS him. thats his entire goal. anyway he prob shoulders huge expectations like oh thats ur dad so u must be a good player right and then those expectations he inflcits on himself.
sumire picks up tennis maybe around age 9-10 or so, when before that she did rhythmic gymnastics with kasumi. but even from an early age she was discontented by how Good kasumi was, almost intrinsically, and she had a gut feeling that made her switch tracks to tennis - also a sort of independent sport where SHE HERSELF can succeed on the court, without needing to depend on others. yet she still feels pressured by kasumi's success which gets in her way a lot. she feels determined to carve a name for herself bc THIS is the path she chose, so she better fucking make it count. those expectations on herself weigh heavily as well. in addition i think her parents literally dont gaf like if she becomes an intl superstar (not maliciously they just genuinely want sumire to be happy and dont demand success of her) but she kinda is like "wow they dont expect anything of me because im bad at it? then ill just have to become AMAZING so theyll have to be astounded" kinda thing
meanwhile akira was always a sporty/athletic kid, he doesnt have much attn from his parents so hes just doing whatever. soccer baseball basketball the works. but he picks up tennis at maybe age 13 and hes GOOD. so he immediately gets like scouted and Trained and he like improves in record time. hes real chill and relaxed about it though because he never Needed tennis the way sumire and goro do. hes just out here for fun and games literally. if he wins he wins - but the thing is, akira kurusu hates losing. thats the thing that propels him to the top.
shujin academy is still the same private school we know but they also house a tennis academy known as the shujin tennis academy yeah yeahyaeeayhah and they just train the coolest of players and the royal trio r their pride and joy etc
cont'd here
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eydi-andrius · 4 months
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Sore Loser (Love and Deepspace Characters x F!Reader)
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Synopsis: After a very shitty day, you thought playing Kitty Cards with him will make your day better.
A/N: Girl, I hate this damn game. Lmaoooooo!
🗡️ Xavier 🗡️
Xavier didn't mean anything from it. He was just playing by the rules of the game, using his advance cards to parry and block your attempt to stop him from freezing your turn, four times by now. He was so focused on the game that he did not notice how your face became harder, and your eyes stared coldly at the board, now filled mostly with Xavier’s number cards. His kitties were cheering for him, and you watched helplessly as your kitties cried from defeat.
“That was a good game.” Xavier smiled to himself, as he saw how the game ended beautifully for him. He saved up as many good advance cards and used them at the right moment. He was so proud of himself and he can't wait to see your face. You usually analyze how he won, and take notes of what you did wrong. However, when he looked up, his joyous face turned down, and his heartbeat quickened when he saw how cold and mad you were. Your anger wasn't directed at him, instead, you were staring at the board coldly. But he knew at that time, he fucked up.
“I’m tired of this stupid game.” The chair scraped the floor, as you stood up so fast and grabbed your coat, placed atop the top rail.
“Hey wait!” He tried to stop you from walking out but he accidentally bumped into the board, almost toppling the cups and kitties over. In panic, he tried to support the wobbling table, and sighed with relief when it stopped shaking. He tried to find you afterwards, but he lost sight of you.
It has been two days, and as his partner hunter, it shouldn't be impossible for you to meet, but you must have been so mad because whenever he asks of you, you decline his calls and only reply in messages as promptly and professionally as an HR. He tried looking for you on your table, but most of the time, you were out or doing something else, whenever he came over. He was about to give up apologizing and accept his fate that he pissed you off at a game, so bad, you decided to cut him off, when Jenna ordered all the alpha team to meet at the unicorns headquarters for a debrief.
And he was right, you were there, but you were sitting in between two hunters he knew nothing about. He wasn't listening at all, he can always check on the information later, but he was afraid that if you manage to sneak out again this time, your relationship will fall apart and he doesn't like the sound of it, even when it wasn't going to happen because he will make sure of it.
“Let’s talk.” Before you can even stand up from where you were sitting, Xavier immediately moves over in front of you, calling your attention in front of the other hunters, making you unable to turn him down.
“Sorry. I should have known you were playing to enjoy that day. I didn't mean to make you mad. I will make sure to be more sensitive in the future about your needs. I know I can be slow at times, sometimes emotionless, but I don't want to repeat the same mistake and lose your company over a silly game.” Xavier started right after the door closed, leaving the two of you alone together. He looks tired. There were visible dark bags right under his eyes. He must have been torturing himself after you gave him the cold shoulder.
You feel silly now. You were not mad at Xavier for winning. It was just a shitty day and you were just looking forward to having a good day and resting with Xavier at your side, when it seems like even the Kitty Cards were against you. Xavier keeps on getting good cards, and you keep getting the most useless advance and number cards. You sighed and closed your eyes. You shouldn't have run away from him. Now, you made it worse and made him feel like he should tiptoe around your mood, instead of enjoying each other's company in your free time.
“Please, don't. It wasn't like that. I was just annoyed about my day at that time and losing was the final straw for me. I’m sorry that I made you feel like that for days. But I wasn't sure how to confront you, especially when I was just acting like a sore loser. Have you not been sleeping well? You have a bag under your eyes.” Worried, you cupped his cheek and moved his face closer to yours, inspecting and noticing how his face looks paler, dry, and tired.
Instead of saying anything, he hums at your touch, and he moves forward, resting his head on your lap.
“Let me take a little sleep. I miss you.” He said before dozing off, and you stroked his hair while he slept.
❄️ Zayne ❄️
Zayne is bad at playing the Kitty Cards game. Due to his fatigue, sometimes he mistook some colors as the same, making his turn score nothing. But today was a bit different. Zayne keeps on winning, and he keeps on using advanced cards that will be fatal on your turn. He steals your advance cards, takes away your good number cards, and freezes your turn. Meanwhile, you keep on getting advanced cards that mean nothing when you have no good cards at hand.
“I win again, huh.” It was obvious that Zayne didn't mean anything from that, other than him wondering why he won again. But maybe you're already at your limit and hearing that made you snap.
“Well good for you. I’m going home.” It was all you have told him before you left him dumbfounded on his seat, leaving him alone at the cafe.
Whatever you did back there was just embarrassing. It was just a game but you took it personally. You're not going to wonder if Zayne refuses to talk to you now, other than being your physician, after that embarrassing display of attitude when you lose. You're not even sure how you're going to talk to him today.
It's your physical exam and it's been two days since you always kept him on read or only replies with emoji. You have to toughen up and apologize. Zayne did not deserve being treated that way.
Upon opening the door to his office, you breathed in, swallowing all the courage you needed. You walked towards the chair and sat in front of him. He was busy typing whatever on his computer, but you know, he already glimpsed on your way, because you felt his heavy stare for a second, before it went back to his task at hand. It didn't take long when he finished and stared you down. It was so awkward and it was at this moment, where you wished to be swallowed down by the earth and be gone. You gulped and opened your mouth to apologize when he started talking first.
“You didn't tell me you were injured that day.” You shivered at the icy tone in his voice. Just like his evol, Zayne can also be cold and scary. He didn't even need for you to emphasize on what he just said, because you already knew what he was talking about. A wanderer caught you off guard hours before meeting Zayne and it scratched your arm. The wound is not that deep, and you already put first aid on it so you never thought about it much, until the small wound did not heal as fast, and almost gave you a fever when it deepens. You realize now that it was the guilt of keeping you're injured to Zayne, and also, being a sore loser from the pain.
“It was very small. I don't want to bother you on your day off so….I kept it.” You squeak, when he glared at you, for being nonchalant about it.
“I don't care if it was my day off. It was my duty to take care of you. I hate it when you lie to me about being fine, when you know too well I can help you.” He continued scolding you, as he inspected the scarring wound, and offensively stared at it.
“I’m really sorry.” Was your only answer, to both, hiding your wound from him and to him receiving the burnt of your pain.
“Also, you can always ask me to switch our cards. I don't mind.” Zayne added as he patched you up.
🧜🏻‍♂️ Rafayel 🧜🏻‍♂️
Rafayel is the ultimate king of petty.
You already know that right from the start but nothing prepares you for the way he massacres you from the game Kitty Cards.
During at the last hurrah of your showdown, Rafayel finally revealed his advance cards, he uses freeze to stop you from playing, uses advance cards that will turn your cup scores into one, kicking out your highest score kitties from the colored cups, and replacing it with his, stealing your deny cards, and using it against you. It was so bad, that on the inside, you felt your blood boil on how cruel it was. If he did it the first time, you would be proud of him, but he’s been winning all the rounds, and every time, it ends up with him brutally winning. His wins hit a nerve and you finally snapped.
“Ha! Please don't cry. Losing isn't that bad.” He said proudly, as Rafayel nodded to himself. He loves teasing you and he enjoys your banter together. He knows at this point, teasing each other is a form of bonding.
He was celebrating his win when he noticed how quiet you were. When he opened his eyes, the smug look on his face dropped and he stopped in his tracks. The look on your face was devastating and he never saw that before. Your scrunched up face, eyes filled with upcoming tears. When both of your eyes met, there seemed like a switch in you, that made you burst into tears. Rafayel, who doesn't know how to handle your outburst, tries his best to console you. But he did not expect that you were still mad at him, so when he tried to hug you, you pushed him away and ran.
Since then, you have refused to reply to his texts. You even muted his calls so you won't have to answer it. Whatever you did that day was so embarrassing that you’d rather sever whatever relationship you have with Rafayel instead of relieving how sore loser you were. It was just a game, and you cried like a baby from it. There were times that you're trying to justify your tears by saying maybe Rafayel’s insults were too much that day, and it was the reason why you burst into tears, but there would be nothing so petty as pushing someone away and running due to losing from a board game.
Sighing, you just accepted that Rafayel will probably stop talking to you. It is what it is as you continue to go on with your day, when your phone blares and a notification about Rafayel being in danger popped up in bold letters. You did not hesitate as you rode your bike and flew to Rafayel’s whereabouts.
You burst through his studio door, and your eyes caught his figure slumped on the floor, leaning to his couch.
“What happened? Are you okay? Did you slip on your paint brushes again?” You asked worriedly, as you touched his shoulder, arms and legs, to see if he injured himself again. You were so worried and kept asking many questions that were meant silently, you were about to unleash the hulk at him for not answering, when you stopped on your tracks when you noticed the frown on his forehead and his glare.
“Really? Do I have to injure myself so you can notice me?” He bit down and you whimpered, not from his anger but from guilt.
“Sorry.” You apologized. You look down and twiddle your thumbs, not knowing how to dissipate the awkwardness of the situation and Rafayel’s glare.
It took a moment before you hear Rafayel’s sigh in defeat and open his mouth to talk again.
“You could have just asked me, and I will allow you to cheat by putting my kitties in different cups, or even by replacing my advance cards. All you have to do is say please.” He continued, exasperated.
All you can do is look down in shame and murmur an apology for acting so childish.
“Just….. don’t ignore me again like that, please. It doesn't feel good when the most important person in your life suddenly stops talking to you.” He added, his voice quivered a bit and you wince when you realize how your action affected him. Opening up his old wounds.
“I’m really sorry, Rafayel. I promise to be better next time.” A silence falls between you again. It took a moment before you realize despite how mad he was, he refuses to move his left hand. The air of guilt slowly turned into worry again.
“Did you injure your left hand?” You asked worriedly and slowly touched his left hand when he flinched and gritted his teeth from the pain.
“Probably sprain it when I fell.”
“You fell!?”
“It's fine, Ms. Bodyguard. I bet it will heal tomorrow. Just feed me for now.” He chuckled at your worried face and you watched him move his left hand with no worry, following your reaction from it. You just shake your head at how silly that was, and was so happy he was okay, before you stood up, helped him up, and treated him like a prince just for today.
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