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finelinefae · 3 days

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match one [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n's struggling with harry's coaching before the first tournament and harry's feelings control him more than he controls them

word count: 10.2k

contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals, strict parents, fluff, harry being a boy and not being able control himself around y/n

this is part 2 of the game, read part 1 here

. . .

“Again,”

Y/N gritted her teeth and bounced the tennis ball on the ground before throwing it into the air with a straight arm and hitting it with the racket, watching as it pierced through the air to the opposite end of the court.

She heard a sigh come from the bench on the side of the court, “Again,”

She inhaled sharply through her nose to try and contain her temper as she repeated the same serve.

“Again,”

Y/N spun around on the heel of her New Balance trainers, her pleated, white skort twirling as she did. She crossed her arms and glared at the boy lying on his back in his school uniform which was now crinkled and unkempt after the school day. “You’re not even watching,” She replied for the first time after having done the same serve more than ten times already.

“I don’t need to, I know you’re not doing it correctly,” He replied, monotonously.

She clenched her jaw, “Well as my coach, aren’t you supposed to show me how I’m meant to do it correctly?”

“I can show you but it won’t change anything,” He said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighs and sits up, “You already know how to do a flat serve, I’ve seen you do it. You’re just not hitting it hard enough. I can hear it in the way the ball lands on the other end of the court.”

“You could have just told me to hit it harder,” She retorts.

“Am I meant to play the game for you as well?” He quips which makes her blood boil.

This was their third training session, and Y/N had reached her limit. With her first proper tournament just three weeks away, she had hoped that seeking help from the best tennis player at Crestwood would elevate her gameplay.

However, Y/N was getting frustrated with each session being a monotonous repetition of drills she had already learnt herself. It grated on her nerves and she felt as though she was back to square one.

She was beginning to regret having enlisted Harry for his mentoring in the first place. Whenever they’d try to talk mutually to each other, it would just end up in an argument of some kind where they’d end up needing ten minutes to cool off.

Y/N had already qualified for the Academy Slam before she even asked Harry to coach her. There had originally been sixteen academies from the surrounding counties competing in the games and now there were only half and Y/N was one of them. She’d passed the qualifiers all by herself and maybe she could pass the games that way too.

“Again,” He said that one word Y/N was beginning to hate.

Who knew what she was capable of if she had to hear that word one more time.

Feeling a surge of anger, Y/N tossed the ball into the air and hit it with all the strength she could possibly summon. She watched as the ball made a fast and straight trajectory towards her target area which just so happened to be right beside Harry’s place on the bench.

He jumped up, a look of surprise on his face. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed, eyes following the ball as it hit the fence.

Y/N's smirk wavered as he approached her, her surprise matching his when he spoke again. "Let's move on, shall we?"

By the end of the session, every inch of Y/N's body throbbed with exhaustion. She drained an entire water bottle in one go, her fitted polo shirt clinging to her damp skin. She had thought she'd engaged every muscle in her body, but the way her calves screamed at her with every step told a different story.

“Same time tomorrow?” Harry asked, standing above her and blocking the sunlight.

“I want to start training properly,” Y/N stated.

“We are training properly,” He argued.

“You realize you haven’t shown me a single tactic since you started coaching me right?”

“And?”

“How am I meant to win the first tournament if all I know how to do is basic drills?”

“Do you know how many times my coach made me practice flat serves before we could move on?” He asks but she doesn’t answer, “A month. I went home with blisters on my hands because I was doing them non-stop six hours a day.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raise, “You think tennis is just about being tactical then you’re not playing it properly. The only way you’ll ever be a good tennis player is if you master the techniques.” He explains, “I’ve seen you play Y/N. For someone who has never had professional coaching, you are one of the best players I’ve seen but you lack confidence in your technique. That flat serve you just aimed at me? One of the best flat serves I’ve seen in a while. If you can do that in every game, you’ll have no problem winning but if you want tactics? I can draw you a diagram and it’ll save two hours of my day no problem.”

Y/N tries not to show her surprise at his words. Instead, she takes them all in, “Shouldn’t we at least be analysing my opponent?”

She was playing against Vanya Maddison in her next game. She was tall which was a major advantage in the game but her spatial awareness wasn’t exactly on par.

“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.

“My speed?” Y/N frowned.

“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.”

Y/N had no idea whether to take it as a compliment or not. She’d never heard Harry say anything good about her so was taken off guard by his words. “So are we still on for tomorrow because I have to meet Mitch in thirty minutes and if the answer is no at least I can actually plan on getting wasted tonight.”

Y/N took a moment to think. She had never expected him to say something positive about her, especially about her anger. It was a side of herself she often struggled to control, but hearing Harry acknowledge it as a strength left her feeling conflicted.

As much as she considered training on her own which would give her some peace and quiet, she wanted to see where her training with Harry would go. If he was right, maybe she’d actually have more of a chance of winning than she did on her own.

She stood up and put her gym bag over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow,” She walked past him, wanting to avoid the satisfied grin on his face.

“Y/N!” Harry called, she could hear him jogging towards her before she stepped out of the courts, “I wanted to give this to you.”

He placed in her hands a cassette tape with white masking tape on it with the words ‘Y/N’s theme songs’ scribbled onto it in black ink. “What is this?” She asked, looking up at him.

“When I was in Australia, I used music to help me get in the zone before a match. My coach told me to use a cassette tape because phones were too distracting,” He explained.

“You made this for me?” She frowned.

“What? You’ve never been given a gift before?” He chuckles.

Y/N looks down at the plastic in her hands. It’s not that she’d never been given a gift by anyone before- she and Sarah always exchanged gifts over Christmas and for each other’s birthdays- but it was rare for her to ever receive anything from anyone else. Her parents would often give her practical things at Christmas or transfer money into her bank account on birthdays.

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at her lack of reply but she cleared her throat, “I don’t have a cassette player,” She said but Harry quickly removed his backpack and pulled out a walkman.

“You can borrow mine,” He handed it over to her, “I won’t be needing it anytime soon since I’m not playing,” She noticed the downcast look in his eyes as he mentioned the fact he wasn’t currently able to play with his injury.

“Um, t-thanks?” She said, unsure of how to respond to his sudden kindness. It felt unusual.

“I picked a few songs that reminded me of you,” He smirks, “Don’t worry, they’re not all about a girl with an attitude problem.” With that he turned back around and walked towards the other exit to head to the car park.

She felt ease on her chest as the usual teasing remarks returned, “Asshole,” She called out to him to which he just put his middle finger up in reply.

. . .

After taking a long shower in the girl’s shower rooms in her dorm block, Y/N headed back to her dorm after changing into a white shirt and sweatpants. She could feel the strain in her arms and legs as she flopped down onto her bed.

Luckily Sarah wasn’t back from spending time with Mitch, so she took in the peace and quiet which came rare to her these days as all her mind had been on recently was the Academy Slam.

Her mind wandered off to Harry and his words from earlier. Y/N knew she was a good tennis player but it was the first time she had heard someone else tell her that. She wasn’t expecting it, especially not from her tennis rival of the past ten years.

Her eyes glanced at the cassette tape and the walkman she had placed on her desk before she headed off to the shower. Sitting up, she grabbed it and stared down at it for a moment before putting the cassette into the player and putting the headphones on.

She laid back on her bed and looked up at the ceiling of her room. Her fingers hit the play button and the first song began to flood her ears. The first few beats of Nelly Furtado’s ‘Maneater’ began to play and she immediately rolled her eyes. Then afterwards, ‘Fergalicious’ by Fergie.

She wondered how many songs Harry had managed to put on the cassette and how many were female anthems of empowerment.

The next song seemed to catch her attention even further when Gorillaz ‘She’s my collar’ began to play. The beat now permanently injected into her bloodstream along with the rest of the album from the number of times she had listened to it.

She wondered if Harry had known he had included a song by one of her favourite bands and whether he knew the meaning behind the song too. Maybe it had been a coincidence which was a thought Y/N had decided to settle on as she listened to the rest of the song.

‘Nothing to be justified yet

She the first I'm running with

She the one that get my collar

She the one I'm running with (she's my collar)’

. . .

The next day at school, Y/N sat in the library during her study period to study for her biology exam at the end of the week. Even though she was set on the scholarship, she still needed something to fall back on if she lost out in the next few games so she made sure she was still getting the best grades she could. It had also been ingrained in her to be the best in every class and she didn’t think that trait of hers would ever leave her.

“Y/N!” Sarah called, her voice echoing within the silence of the library.

Ignoring the irritated glances she received, she paced towards Y/N and sat in the empty seat beside her. Y/N smiled at her friend’s excitement. They were foils to each other and that’s what made them get on so well. Whilst Y/N had a black cat personality, Sarah was sunshine in a person which was probably why she was so perfect for Mitch who was equally as bright. “What’s up?”

“I need to ask you something and you’re probably going to hate me but Harry’s already said yes and-”

“Sarah,” Y/N placed her hands on her shoulders, “Breathe.”

Sarah did exactly that before continuing, “Would you do a feature with Harry for the school newspaper?”

Y/N frowned, “What?”

“The school newspaper? You know the club I’ve been part of for the past two years? They want to do a feature on your training for the sports section and I told them I would ask you.” Sarah explained.

“Oh I don’t know about that-”

“Pleeeassseee,” Sarah gripped her arm that was resting on the desk and batted her eyelashes.

“You know I’d do anything for you Sarah but I don’t know if I have the time and my focus is on my next game,” Y/N replied.

“Harry’s already said yes to it,” Sarah interjected.

“You asked him before me?”

“Well actually,” Sarah hesitated, “Luke, the boy who’s writing the article, asked him this morning,”

“Why didn’t he ask me?”

Sarah gave her a pointed look, “You’re not exactly the most approachable,” Y/N’s frown deepened at her words, “So will you do it?”

Y/N sighed, considering it before giving Sarah an answer. The last thing she wanted was for someone to be asking unnecessary questions in time that could be used to train for the first round of the competition but Sarah was her best friend and she knew how much the school newspaper meant to her and her university applications too.

“Alright,” She relented, “I’ll do it.”

Sarah squealed, receiving another round of vicious glares from other students in the library. Her arms wrapped around her in a tight hug, “Thank you,” She pulled away, “They’ll come by tomorrow afternoon during practice, is that okay?” Y/N nodded a response.

. . .

It was raining outside.

Y/N’s eyes stared out the window as she bounced a tennis ball on the hard floor of the gymnasium and wondered if the weather foreshadowed the next hour.

“Will you sit down?” Harry muttered, “You’re giving me a headache,”

“He’s late,” Y/N says, “We could have been practising,”

“Do you ever just do anything else?” Y/N shot him a glare at his sarcasm, “I get this is important to you but don’t you just want to, I don’t know, have fun?”

Y/N walked over to her seat right next to his and straightened herself for the interview the school newspaper had organised for them. Sarah had told both her and Harry to dress smartly for the occasion which, according to Harry meant a designer sweatshirt and trousers whilst Y/N had gone for a dress and pumps. It wasn’t overly smart for either of them but enough to make it seem like they had made an effort.

“The fact that you’re even suggesting that tells me you have no idea how important this is to me,” Y/N responds, monotonously.

She hears a scoff from beside her, “What?”

He turns to face her, his face rather too close, she notices three moles on his right cheek that she hadn’t ever seen before, “I think I know better than anyone how important this is to you but I also know from experience how important being in high school is with people your own age.” She forgets sometimes that even though he was whisked away to fulfil his place in the Australian Open, that his time of being a kid was cut short, “I don’t go out of my way to coach just anybody,”

“What do you mean?” She frowns but before Harry could reply, the doors to the gym open and in scrambles a sixth year with a messenger bag and a tripod with a camera dangling from his neck.

“It means,” he leans forward, murmuring, “if you had half the belief in yourself as I have in you then you wouldn’t need me at all.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Luke’s voice echoes as he steps towards them and places all three legs of the tripod on the ground and scrambles to screw his camera to it.

“What’s with the camera?” Y/N asked.

“O-oh, we’re recording the interview so I can write everything up later and we’re going to need your pictures together afterwards,” Luke explained.

“You want us to take a photo together?” Y/N frowned.

“Did Sarah not tell you?” Luke replied.

“Calm down, love. It’s just a photo,” Harry murmured and she tried not to react to the nickname he had used for her.

Once everything was set up, Luke sat across from them with his laptop on his thighs, questions already typed out, “So, you two have known each other for a while now?” Luke asked as he sat across from them.

As Y/N was about to tell him how they didn’t exactly know each other on a personal level but knew each other through tennis, Harry spoke up, “Since we were both in third year. I was eight and Y/N was seven but we’ve been in the same class since we were infants.”

Luke nodded, “That must help a lot in your partnership,”

Harry chuckled lowly, “Something like that,”

Luke types a few things down in his computer before turning his attention to Y/N, “Um, Y/N what made you turn to Harry for his coaching other than the fact he won the Australian Open?”

Y/N frowned, what more reason did she need to give? “Well, the fact he won is a big reason as to why I approached him,”

“But isn’t he injured?” Harry stiffened beside her. The way he asked made it sound like he was defective, unusable.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “Yes but I’ve seen Harry play games with a dislocated shoulder. He’d just pop it right back in and start playing again. His current injury doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s one of the best tennis players I’ve seen at Crestwood.” Y/N ignored the looks from the two boys. She knew she’d have to compliment Harry at some point during this interview, especially if they needed to show a united front for the games.

“And do think the same about Y/N?” Luke asked Harry who now seemed irritated by him.

“I think,” Y/N was prepared for a backhanded compliment but what she got was something entirely different, “Y/N has all the potential in the world to go for what she dreams of and I hope to watch her do it all even if that means I’m watching from the sidelines.” This time it was Y/N’s turn to glance at Harry, taken aback by his words.

Luke spoke again, “You know some people are calling you the underdog in this tournament?” Y/N froze, it was the first time she had heard of it, “all the other women competing have had professional coaching and the school invests heavily in their tennis players.”

Y/N cleared her throat, “I didn’t know that but I have every intention of proving them wrong,” Harry bumped his knee with hers but she ignored it.

“And What do your parents think about you doing this before leaving exams?” Luke asked.

Y/N ignored the sting she felt at the thought of telling her parents what she was doing and the looks of disappointment she envisioned, which had been gnawing at the back of her head since she qualified. She answered confidently, "They're happy for me and excited to see me in the final."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows as Luke leaned in, his expression curious. "You think you'll get to the final?"

Harry scoffed, “Are you insinuating she won’t?”

Luke backpedalled slightly, sensing he’d struck a nerve. "I didn't mean to suggest that at all. It's just that some people doubt the capabilities of those who haven't had professional coaching."

"Hey Luke, do me a favour and invite those people to the first game in three weeks' time. Let them witness firsthand what it's like watching a player as skilled as Y/N, without any professional coaching," Harry's frustration was palpable, catching Y/N off guard with his assertiveness. Typically, she would be the first to break in such situations but it seemed Harry already had.

Luke’s face warmed as he realised he overstepped, “R-right, let’s move on.” He scanned through his list of questions to find something more light-hearted to break up the mood, whilst Y/N straightened her shoulders, thankful they’d gotten to the final round of questions. “What do you both like to do outside of training?”

“Together?” Y/N cringed, trying to picture spending time with Harry in a normal setting.

“Not necessarily,” Luke shrugged.

“My best friend is dating her best friend so we’ve been spending a lot more time together recently. Normally, I play guitar or recite poetry whenever I’m not coaching Y/N to volley properly,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the lies that left his mouth.

“I study,” Y/N stated.

“That’s it?” Luke’s eyebrows creased.

Her cheeks turned slightly pink, “I’m top of the class in all of my classes, that doesn’t just happen without hard work.”

She could feel Harry’s eyes on her and for the first time, she turned her head to catch his eyes. She noticed the frown on his lips and something in his eye that looked a lot more like concern or sympathy than the desire to tease her about her lack of social life.

“Well, I think that will be enough,” Luke stood up and grabbed his camera, “Do you mind if we take a few photos now?”

Y/N and Harry stood from their seats, side by side and looked into the lens of the camera. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from forcing a smile as Harry did the same, “You’re standing too close to me,” Y/N spoke through her teeth as the camera flashed.

"Look who's talking with their giant foot squashing my shoe," Harry retorts, a playful glint in his eyes. Y/N inhales sharply, her gaze dropping to her foot to see what he's referring to. But before she can react, Harry smoothly slides his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side with practised ease. Their eyes meet, and just as the camera flashes, capturing the moment, Y/N side steps out of his grip with an annoyed huff.

“Okay, that will be all,” Luke smiled.

As Luke packed his things away, Y/N and Harry stood awkwardly side by side without saying a word. Y/N glanced out the window and saw the sky had cleared up and the sun was setting. She needed to get back to her dorm to study for her French exam tomorrow as well as binge-watch tennis matches on YouTube which she’d been doing a lot recently.

“Did you really mean that?” Harry asked, catching her attention, “All you do is study outside of school?”

Y/N looked at him, “I hang out with Sarah some days but yeah, I mostly study. I don’t really have a lot of choice and I’m not naturally smart.” Harry’s head tilted to the side like he was secretly questioning her in his head, “What? Aren’t you meant to crack a joke about me being stupid or something?”

Harry's eyes softened, his voice gentle. "I could never think you're stupid, love," he said, the nickname slipping from his lips with a tenderness that caught Y/N off guard. She found herself speechless, unable to figure out what had gotten into him recently.

He pulled out his car keys from his back pocket and motioned his head towards the gymnasium exit, “C’mon,” He urged, “I wanna try something out and before you ask, it’s nothing to do with tennis or studying.”

Y/N’s feet stayed glued to the ground as he walked away and expected her to follow. She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms, wanting to refuse his invitation so she could get back to her dorm. But curiosity got the better of her and she followed a few paces behind him as he led her to the empty car park.

Harry pressed the button on the car keys and the lights flashed on a black Audi hiding in the corner, “What are we doing?” She asked.

“Have you ever driven a car before?” He wondered, looking at her with a hint of mischief.

“Never,” She replied and was bewildered to see him open the door to the passenger seat instead of the driver’s seat.

“Looks like it’s your lucky day, love,” He smirked.

Y/N’s eyes widened, “N-no! Harry, I'm not driving your stupidly expensive car.”

“C’mon,” Harry chuckled, “Don’t be chicken.”

She scoffed, “I’m not being chicken, I’m being sensible. If I crash that car, I don’t even think my parents will have enough money to fix it.”

“My parent’s will,” He grinned, cockily, “Get in,”

“No, I’m not driving that car.” She insisted.

Five minutes later, Y/N sat in the driver’s seat of Harry’s Audi with her fingers over her eyes as he instructed her on how to start. “Are you crazy?” She whimpers as he switches the engine on.

“Stop worrying, I’ve got my hand on the break.” She looks down to see his hand already wrapped around the hand break, “Just stay calm and do what I told you to do. Clutch down, first gear and then ease your foot gently off the clutch.”

“You’re supposed to be teaching me tennis, not driving laps around the school parking lot,” Y/N argued.

“Think of this as a team bonding exercise,” He shrugged, “Okay now foot down on the clutch,”

“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” She strangled out, placing her shaky hands on the wheel.

“Relax,” Harry chuckled, “You’re being dramatic.”

“It won’t be so dramatic when we end up in a tree,” Y/N retorted as she carefully felt the pedals and pressed down slowly on the clutch. Feeling the car rise, Y/N gasped and removed her foot.

“Calm down, it’s just because you put your foot on the clutch,” Harry was trying his best not to laugh at her, “Okay, now do it again.”

Y/N squeezed her hands on the wheel and repeated her actions, moving the gear stick “Okay, now carefully raise the clutch,” Harry instructed and as she did, he lowered the handbrake and the car slowly began to move forward.

“Holy shit,” Y/N wailed, “We’re moving,”

This time, Harry did laugh unable to stop himself after seeing her reaction, “Make sure you turn the wheel or we really will end up in a tree,”

Y/N did as she was told and turned the wheel slowly, “Okay, I’ll move into second,”

“Harry no!” She gasped but put the clutch down so he could move gears.

“Atta girl,” He beamed.

Y/N’s worried expression soon turned into shock and then excitement as she moved slowly around the car park, “I’m driving Harry!” Y/N grinned and Harry swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“You are,” He praised, “There’s nothing you can’t do.”

After switching between first and second gear and Y/N complaining that her feet were aching from how tense she was using the pedals, Harry offered to swap places and show her what it was really like to go out on an evening drive.

“Harry!” Y/N choked on a laugh as he went all the way up to sixth gear down the empty streets in the middle of nowhere, “Slow down,” She squealed.

Harry glanced at her, grinning when he saw how wide the smile was on her face. He pressed his finger on the button to wind down all the windows, “Oh shit I love this song,” He turned the volume up on the stereo as Beyonce’s ‘Love on Top’ started playing, blaring loudly through the speakers of his car.

“Baby it’s you! You’re the one I love! You’re the one I need!” Harry screamed the lyrics of the song and Y/N’s laughter sounded through the entire car as her hair blew behind her. “Sing it, baby!” He cheered, neither of them realising what he had called her.

“I’m not gonna sing it,” She shook her head, her eyes squeezing shut as the engine revved.

“It’s the only way I’m gonna slow down,” He teased as the build-up to the chorus played.

Y/N giggled as Harry began to sing solo to the chorus again, giving her a look that had her rolling her eyes before she screamed out the lyrics alongside him, “When I need you, make everything stop! Finally, you put my love on top!”

Their laughter merged together as the song played out. Harry slowed down the closer they got back to town and cast a sideways glance at Y/N who was brushing her wind-swept hair with her fingers. “You okay?” He asked, seeing the glow on her face.

“Yeah,” She bit her lip, “I’m okay. I just don’t get to do stuff like this… ever really.”

He nodded in understanding. Harry had met Y/N’s parents a few times before. His parents were frequent visitors to their country club so he knew what they were like but he had no idea of the extent of the pressures they had put on Y/N to do well. It reminded him of his own parents and the last thing he wanted to do was allow someone to feel the same way he did whenever his parents were too hard on him.

“Wanna pull in somewhere to get something to eat?” Harry asked. It was getting late and they both had school tomorrow but he couldn’t seem to allow himself to let her go- not when she was having so much fun.

“Okay,” Y/N nodded.

He pulled into a dessert shop that was still open. Y/N followed him inside and to a booth in the corner. Harry ordered both of them bowls of soft-serve ice cream and Y/N even asked if she could have a strawberry milkshake to go with it. “I shouldn’t really be eating,” She told him.

“Hmm I heard drinking strawberry milkshakes improves your footwork. They served them all the time in Australia,” Y/N shot him a look that told him she knew he was bullshitting her but it made him smile.

“Are you nervous about the game coming up?” They’d been training non-stop every evening and Y/N was quickly improving everything she had already learnt on her own. After considering Harry’s words a few days ago, she knew Harry was right. He had been good for her technique and she felt even more sure of herself than she did at the beginning.

“No,” She said coolly, “I don’t have time to be nervous.”

Harry scoffed, “I don’t believe that for a second.”

The waitress came over and placed their desserts in front of them, along with a strawberry milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top. “Mitch says he’s going to throw a party at my place if you make it through to the semi-finals.”

“A party at your place?” Y/N quirked a brow.

Harry sighs, “He came up with the idea of throwing a party and then just kind of decided it would be at mine.” He explained.

Y/N nodded and took a sip of her milkshake. It had been so long since she had had something so sugary and sweet. She hummed before realizing she was being watched by the boy opposite her, “Just so you know, even though you bought these desserts and taught me how to drive, doesn’t mean I like you.”

Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling and dimples carving into his cheeks. Y/N’s heart stuttered but she pushed the feeling down, “Okay, tomorrow you can go back to hating me again and we’ll pretend today didn’t happen.”

“And you can do the same,” She says.

Harry gives her a look, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t put a label on, “I don’t hate you Y/N.”

She frowns, “You’ve always hated me,”

“No,” He shook his head, “Never.”

“But you’re always making fun of me,” And she always did the same.

“Because it’s the only way I get to speak to you.” He admits.

Y/N’s lips parted in surprise, unable to believe what she was hearing. She had always assumed Harry had hated her since their rivalry had gone on for so long. She didn’t know what to say, confused by the sudden revelation.

“Ew,” It came out before she even had time to think, “Don’t be nice to me, it’s making me uncomfortable.”

Harry seemed to deflate but quickly placed a smile on his face, “You make me uncomfortable and you’re singing, by the way, is awful.”

Y/N scoffed, "At least I don't sound like a dying goat." Despite the return of their familiar banter, her heart seemed to continue to flutter under Harry's earnest gaze, stirring a mix of emotions within her that she’d never felt before.

She didn’t know what was going on with her but the last thing she needed to think about was her emotions when her biggest goal to date was right before her.

. . .

Three weeks had gone by far too quickly for Y/N’s liking.

“Again,” Harry drawled.

Y/N gritted her teeth and repeated the backswing technique Harry had shown her but the angle was all wrong and the ball ended up going completely off court.

“Fuck,” Y/N spat, throwing her tennis racket on the floor and squatting, balling her hands into fists on her head.

Harry sighed, walking over. “You’re nervous about tomorrow,” He stated like he didn’t need her to confirm despite the fact she had constantly told everyone she wasn’t nervous about anything.

“I just need to win,” She mumbled.

“Get up,” Harry ordered.

Y/N did as she was told and stood up. He grabbed the racket from the floor that she’d thrown across the court like a toddler throwing their toys out a pushchair and flipped the racket between both of his hands. He handed it back to her and grabbed his own.

“I want you to mirror my actions,” He says and stands a few steps away from her.

He steps forward, tossing the tennis ball into the air before swinging his racket with both hands, expertly landing it in the left corner of the opposing court. Y/N tracks his every move, mimicking his actions as if she were his shadow.

Y/N’s ball lands slightly off target and Harry bites his lip to stop himself from smiling at the scowl on her face. He walks towards her and comes up behind her. Y/N’s breathing hitches when she feels his fingertips press gently on her arm.

“You need to straighten this arm more,” He advises, his fingertips sliding down her arm and leaving a trail of goosebumps as he straightens her arm out. “Calm down,” he murmurs, his mouth near her ear, “I can feel your heart beating.”

Y/N seems to lose every ounce of oxygen when he places his hand flat against her back where he can feel her heart beating, “Breathe,” He says, “You will win tomorrow, I will make sure of it.”

The warmth that flooded Y/N’s body quickly left as Harry took a step back, “Try it again,” He nodded towards her racket.

Y/N sighed, tensing her muscles again after Harry had practically managed to turn them into liquid. She tried to ignore the flutter in all of the pulse points in her body that were screaming to make contact with that new presence and swung her racket, landing the ball exactly where she wanted.

“There y’ go,” He murmurs, almost as if he was saying it to himself. “I think we should call that it for today,”

“What?” Y/N frowned, “The game is tomorrow, I need to practice.”

“Y/N, we’ve been practising for half the day already. You’re going to wear yourself out if you carry on,” Harry tells her.

“Fine,” She huffed but Harry gave her a knowing look.

“Come to my place,” He offers.

“Why would I do that?” She goes to grab her sweatshirt on the bench and pulls it over her head. It was getting colder now that the sun was going down.

“Because I know you’re just going to come back here once I leave and trust me, you don’t want to do that.” She opened her mouth to refuse but he continued, “We can watch Wimbledon on TV and order pizza.”

She wondered how he knew that Wimbledon was one of her favourite movies and pizza was her favourite food. “Is it the DVD exclusive?” Y/N asked.

Harry’s lips tilted upwards, “Of course,” Y/N nodded, following him to his car so he could drive them to his apartment.

Y/N remembered the last time she was in Harry's car three weeks ago. It was the first time Y/N truly enjoyed being in his company and the first time she had allowed herself to have fun and relax.

The day after, they resumed their usual arguing as if the previous night hadn't occurred. However, Y/N found herself overwhelmed by a surge of unfamiliar emotions swirling within her.

Despite the bickering, she kept noticing things about Harry—like the way he smiled and talked. It made her feel weird like there was something more between them that she hadn't noticed before.

The air was silent between them as the radio played lowly in the background. Harry turned into a block of apartments that looked far too expensive for a student to afford all by themself. “This is where you live?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening as he pulled into a spot.

“For now,” He says.

Y/N trailed behind Harry as they rode the elevator to the fifth floor and made their way to his apartment. When he swung open the door, flooding the space with light, Y/N couldn't help but notice the spaciousness of the apartment, as well as its emptiness.

“I haven’t had time to unpack,” Harry said, walking to the kitchen after kicking his shoes off, “Do you want anything to drink?”

“I’ll just take a glass of water,” Y/N’s eyes darted to all of the boxes that covered the floor.

She walked to the kitchen area and leaned against the counter, “Are those your trophies?” She asked, seeing the metal cups in an open box.

Harry smiled, “Yeah, I’ve kept all of mine even the ones that didn’t count.”

“They all count,” Y/N grins, walking over and pulling one out, “The battle of the sexes trophy.”

Harry smirked, walking round to stand beside her, “I still remember the look on your face when they handed me that trophy. If looks could kill, love, I don’t think I would be here.”

“It was a big deal to me okay?” Y/N replies, “I seemed to blame you for all my losses when I was a kid.”

Harry’s expression softens and his head turns to look at her, “Will you blame me if you don’t win tomorrow?”

Y/N’s smile falters, “No, I’d blame myself. I think if I lost this, I don’t know who I would be anymore. Tennis is my life.”

Harry’s eyes glint underneath the soft lighting of the kitchen, “God,” He whispers, “You drive me crazy y’ know that?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you think you could love anything more?” He asks, ignoring her question.

“I can’t think of anything, if I did I’d have to love it an awful lot.”

“Okay,” He nods like he’s accepting a challenge.

Y/N narrows her eyes, “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing,” He shrugs, “But I want you to know-”

Before Harry could finish his sentence, the door swings open and the shrill sound of his mother’s voice fills the air. Y/N stands straight and she notices Harry tense up, taking a step in front of her, he pushes her behind him.

“Harry,” His mother sighs, “How are you darling?”

“Mum,” He replies, curtly, “What are you doing here?”

“Your father’s running late home so I thought I would come by to see how you were,” She says and then looks behind him.

Y/N doesn’t need Harry to introduce her as she steps forward and holds out a hand, “Hi Mrs Styles, it’s nice to see you again.”

"Y/N?" Anne gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. "You've grown so much, you're beautiful." She reached out, taking both of Y/N's hands in hers and giving her an appraising look.

Y/N's cheeks flushed at the compliment. "Thank you, Mrs. Styles," she stammered, feeling a mixture of nerves and warmth.

Anne smiled warmly. "Oh, call me Anne," she insisted before turning her attention to Harry. "I didn't know you two were such good friends."

Y/N and Harry exchanged a quick glance, both unsure of how to respond.

"I'm her coach," they both blurted out simultaneously, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Anne's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?" she exclaimed, her gaze flitting between them. "You're coaching?"

Harry nodded, his expression serious. "Yes," he confirmed quietly.

"But Harry, your injury," Anne interjected, concern evident in her voice as she glanced down at his leg. "You're not meant to be—"

"I'm fine, Mum," Harry interrupted sharply, his tone making no room for argument.

"Harry, you know you can’t be playing-"

"I said I'm fine," Harry's voice rose, his frustration evident as he cut her off, causing Y/N to jump at the sudden outburst.

Anne's concern softened into a resigned sigh, her eyes reflecting a mixture of worry and understanding. "Alright, Harry," she relented, her tone gentler now. "Just promise me you're taking care of yourself."

Harry's features softened, a hint of remorse flickering in his eyes. "I promise, Mum," he said, his voice softer now, more subdued.

Anne nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Good. That's all I ask."

As the atmosphere relaxed, Anne turned her attention back to Y/N, her smile warm and welcoming. "Well, it's lovely to see you again, Y/N," she said kindly. “Tell your parents we’ll be stopping by in the spring.”

Y/N returned the smile, her earlier nervousness dissipating in the warmth of Anne's acceptance. "It was nice to see you too, " she replied sincerely.

Harry glanced at Y/N, a softness in his gaze that made her heart skip a beat. After seeing his mother out following her very brief visit, Y/N finally mustered the courage to ask, "What was she talking about?"

Harry's expression turned grave, his features shadowed by a sense of burden. "It was nothing," he replied.

"Why can't you play?" Y/N pushed, her concern evident in her voice.

"Y/N, I'm telling you to leave it alone," Harry warned, his tone firm.

But Y/N couldn't let it go. "If it's nothing, then why can't you tell me?" she insisted, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

"Because it's none of your business, that's why," Harry snapped, his words cutting like a knife.

"Nothing I do or say has anything to do with you, so go back to hating me because it's a hell of a lot easier than what I have to deal with."

Y/N's heart sank at his harsh words. With a deep breath, she crossed her arms, her resolve hardening. "You know, now I remember why we never got along in the first place," she retorted, her voice laced with bitterness. With a sharp turn on her heel, she made her way to the front door. "You're such an asshole, Harry."

"Y/N," Harry called out, his voice tinged with regret as she stormed out of his apartment towards the elevator. "Y/N, come on, don't be like that."

"Go suck a dick," she shot back, stepping into the elevator before Harry could stop her.

As the doors closed, Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Let me drive you back, at least," he pleaded, his voice barely audible over the sound of the closing doors.

"Fine," Y/N huffed, her tone clipped with annoyance.

The car ride back to her dorm was tense and silent. When Harry pulled into the front of her dormitory, Y/N moved to open the door finding the silence far too uncomfortable. Then, out of nowhere, Harry's voice broke the silence. "I can't play tennis anymore," he confessed, his words heavy.

Y/N's heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat. "What do you mean you can't play anymore? That's ridiculous," she exclaimed, her disbelief evident in her voice.

Harry's hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I mean I can't ever play tennis again," he admitted, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Are you serious?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling with shock.

"I tore my ACL during practice for the French Open. I—" Harry's voice trailed off, unable to continue, “It was so bad Y/N and I was in so much fucking pain and no one would listen to me. I went through multiple surgeries and rehab but the doctors sat me down and said I couldn’t play unless I wanted to fuck up my leg for the rest of my life.”

“Harry…” Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears.

Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of Harry's words sank in. She glanced over at him, seeing the pain etched in his features, and felt a surge of empathy wash over her. It was a devastating blow for someone who had dedicated their life to the sport they loved.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with genuine sadness for the boy beside her.

Harry managed a small nod, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, “That’s why I had to come back here. My father can barely look at me and my mother won’t leave me alone. At least here I can be around people my own age but when I’m at home, it’s fucking suffocating Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t imagine losing the one thing she loved above anything else in the world and have to re-construct everything she had ever known to find something else to love just as much.

“I don’t expect you to say anything but I’d appreciate it if you showed me a little mercy,” He spoke.

“Why would you offer to coach me then? Would that not make things worse?” She asked.

He looks at her, really looks at her, like there was something on the tip of his tongue he wanted to say but couldn’t, “I figured it would alleviate the pain.”

“But I saw you play, I watched you and you beat me,” She exclaimed.

“Yeah and it hurt like a bitch afterwards,” He shook his head.

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wondered why Harry had been unwilling to play against her during the training sessions and now she knew why. She felt awful, her heart was hurting for him.

“I don’t want you to feel pity for me and I don’t want this to change anything between us. I’m tired of being treated like a broken toy and I think it would kill me inside if you looked at me differently.”

Y/N stayed quiet, facing forward and collecting her thoughts before saying, “Thank you for telling me,” She murmured, “And it doesn’t change anything. You’re still an asshole,”

Harry laughed and then his pinky brushed the side of her hand, “You will be everything tomorrow.” He whispered.

Y/N’s heart fluttered at the soft edge of his words, “You think so?”

His eyes softened, “I believe in you, more than anyone in the entire world.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath and looking out the window. The tension had settled and now a newfound respect lingered between them.

She would win tomorrow, for herself and for him.

. . .

It had been a while since Harry had been to a tennis tournament. The last time he was on a court for an official match was well over six months ago, it was a challenger match he participated in during his training for the French Open before his life took a vast turn.

He sat in the stands with everyone else from Crestwood who had come to watch the first game. Although Crestwood Academy invested more in the football team than any other sport, the turnout had been pretty good and nearly every seat was occupied by a student or teacher.

On the opposite side was Eaststone Academy who seemed to have invested heavily in their merchandise for Y/N’s opponent. Everyone was either wearing a t-shirt with Vanya’s name on it or carrying a sign with supportive catchphrases written in bold marker.

Harry craned his neck in hopes of seeing Y/N preparing herself somewhere outside of the court but couldn’t find her anywhere. He’d sent her a quick message this morning and asked her if she needed anything but she insisted she wanted to be alone.

“Fuck, it’s good we got in the queue early,” Mitch came by with an anxious Sarah, holding two cokes in his hand. They were both wearing navy shirts and sweatbands around their heads, Sarah was holding a sign that had Y/N’s name on it.

“She’s gonna hate you for that,” Harry tried not to smile.

“Oh I already know,” Sarah said, “She watched me make it last night and then almost ripped in half when I asked her if I should bedazzle it.”

Harry’s expression changed into one of concern, “How was she?”

“She’s nervous but she insisted she was okay,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “You know how she is.”

He did, which was why he was willing to accept the fact she wanted to be by herself even though he was desperate to drive over there with strawberry milkshakes just so he could see that smile he had been dreaming about for the past three weeks.

Suddenly, Eaststone Academy stood from their seats and cheered as Vanya Maddison came onto the court. “I’ve never seen such long legs,” Sarah gasped, saying what both Harry and Mitch were thinking.

Harry’s heart pounded in his chest as the people around him stood on their feet. He glanced down to the court and his eyes fell on Y/N as she walked onto the court with a dip between her brows and her tennis bag over her shoulder.

She was wearing a white, pleated skort and a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. Her hair was slicked back as tightly as possible into a braid and her white runners were tied up on her feet. He noticed she was wearing earbuds in her ears and then found the walkman he had given her clipped to her skort. He smiled at that, wondering which of the many songs he had put together she was listening to.

“There she is,” Sarah pointed and then waved to get her attention.

Y/N held a hand over her face to block the sun and looked up at the crowd. When she caught sight of Sarah, she offered a friendly wave before her eyes landed on Harry. She gave him a nod of acknowledgement and then walked to her seat on the other side of the umpire.

“C’mon,” Harry murmured, feeling his palms sweating at the sight of her.

“She’s got this in the bag, H.” Mitch puts a hand on his shoulder.

Through the speakers, the umpire calls out the start of the match and everyone falls silent as both players walk to opposing sides of the court. Y/N bounces on her feet and swings her racket backwards and forwards as though warming herself up before the match starts.

When the first serve came, Y/N's reflexes kicked in. She returned the ball swiftly, keeping the rally going with her quick movements, remembering what Harry had taught her. Each exchange became more intense, but Y/N stayed determined, chasing down every ball.

When Vanya hit the ball for the other corner, Y/N ran towards it and returned the ball swiftly, earning the first point with a well-placed shot. The crowd erupted into cheers as Y/N gained an early lead.

“That’s my girl!” Harry clapped his heart in his throat.

But Vanya wasn't about to let up. With determination in her eyes, she fought back, winning the next two points with powerful serves and precise shots. The score was now in Vanya's favor, and the pressure was on for Y/N.

“Fuck!” Y/N released a growl and hit her racket against the floor before storming off to her seat. Harry was tempted to walk down and help her but he needed to let her see what she was capable of on her own.

Her anger was radiating from her, “I’d hate to get on her bad side,” Mitch said.

Harry couldn’t seem to reply as he leant forward with both his elbows on his knees. “C’mon, c’mon, you can do it.” He mutters, thinking of the first bit of advice he had given her.

“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.

“My speed?” Y/N frowned.

“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.”

Y/N rolled her shoulders back and stood on her feet. She walked back to her line on the court and bounced the ball up and down on the ground before throwing it up in the air and hitting it with a flat serve, exactly the way Harry had taught her. Her anger radiated from her as she slammed the ball with her racket and hit it with such force it went flying to the other end of the court but not before bouncing inside the square right by Vanya’s foot.

Harry stood to his feet and pumped his fist into the air, “Holy shit!” Mitch exclaimed as Sarah cheered beside him.

They were now at match point and Y/N had to win this next round if she wanted to win the entire game.

The tension thickened in the air as people sat on the edge of their seats to see who would come out on top. This time, it was Vanya’s turn to serve as she launched the ball into the air and hit it with her racket to Y/N’s side of the court.

As Y/N unleashed powerful serves and precise shots, Harry found himself captivated by her every move. With each grunt of exertion, each flex of her muscles, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Despite the shifting heads of the spectators around him as they followed the ball back and forth, his gaze remained fixed solely on her.

Every aspect of Y/N's play had him in a trance—the way her muscles rippled as she sprinted across the court, the intensity in her expression as she anticipated Vanya’s next move, the graceful sway of her hair with each swing of her racket.

But as Harry watched, something stirred within him. A warmth spread through his veins, igniting a fire deep within him. Suddenly, he felt a tightness in his shorts, a physical reaction to the raw power and determination radiating from Y/N on the court.

"Oh, fuck," Harry muttered under his breath, his heart racing as he glanced down and saw the undeniable bulge in his shorts. Panic surged through him, his mind reeling with embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" Mitch's voice cut through his thoughts, and Harry quickly lowered his drink to conceal his arousal.

“N-Nothing,” Harry forces a smile, “I need to use the bathroom.” He doesn’t wait for Mitch to respond as she pushes past everyone to get away from the crowd.

He walks quickly over to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He didn’t know what to do. He felt like he was thirteen years old after experiencing girls for the first time again. Was it wrong to rub himself off in the middle of a tennis match when all he was looking at was the girl who played his favourite sport better than anyone he had ever seen, dominating the game with her anger and intensity like she was a complete animal?

He couldn’t shake the image of her from his mind and his cock seemed to ache the more he thought about how beautiful she was on the court, completely in her element, anger and passion emitting from her. Every grunt and groan she made as she hit the ball with so much fervor had his head spiralling.

He looked down and tried to will it away, he needed to get back out there to see her win the game. He thought of every disturbing thing he could possibly think of and even took out his phone to google the quickest way to get rid of an erection.

The excited yells of the crowd told him someone had won and he prayed he would return and see Y/N with the medal around her neck.

After about ten minutes of taking deep breaths, he finally felt composed enough to leave his car. With a flustered face, he made his way back toward the court, silently praying for some kind of cosmic intervention to erase the embarrassing moment from his memory.

As he turned the corner, he spotted Mitch and Sarah engaged in conversation with Y/N, who was proudly wearing the gold medal around her neck. She had won - he knew she would.

Y/N's eyes lit up as she noticed him, a wide smile spreading across her face as she proudly displayed her medal. Unable to resist, he grinned back in response.

Sweat glistened on her skin, her cheeks flushed with exertion, and delicate strands of hair framed her face. At that moment, she radiated beauty, and he couldn't deny the sudden surge of emotions that had slowly been weaving themselves into the fabric of his feelings ever since he had returned to Crestwood.

If the past fifteen minutes were anything to go by, Harry knew this was more than just a game of tennis.

He was in trouble.

. . .

People cheered as Y/N entered Harry’s apartment with Sarah at her side, holding beer cans in the air and patting her on the shoulder as she sifted through the crowds of people. S&M by Rhianna played over the speakers as the apartment that was previously empty was now filled up with student’s from Crestwood.

“There she is,” Mitch’s voice yelled over the music, “Crestwood’s very own Serena Williams,”

“I wouldn’t go that far Mitch,” She chuckled, unable to stop herself from smiling so hard after the excitement of her first win.

Y/N’s eyes scanned the room as she went in search of the one person she wanted to see whilst everyone fell into conversation around her.

That’s when she saw him, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup in his hand. His hair was a tangled mess, and his body was adorned in a loose, white shirt, its u-neck revealing the inked pair of swallows beneath his collarbones and gold chain around his neck. On his legs, he wore a loose pair of black trousers.

Y/N held back a smile as she made her way over to him until she realised who he was talking to.

Her face fell as she saw the angelic blonde, tanned and glowing like she’d just come back from a holiday somewhere south of the equator.

Harry’s face lit up as Y/N approached until he realised what was going on.

“Hey,” He smiled, trying to distract her.

“Where were you?” Y/N snapped her gaze towards him.

“What do y’ mean? M right here,” He spoke, “You were incredible out there.”

“Who’s this?” Y/N ignored him, folding her arms and looking at the girl he was speaking to. Y/N knew exactly who she was but felt the need to act as though she had never seen her before.

Harry hesitated for a moment before introducing her. “Y/N, this is Astrid.”

Astrid flashed a dazzling smile at Y/N, her demeanour friendly yet confident. “Congratulations on the win today, Y/N. I’m looking forward to our match in the semifinals.”

Harry's reaction was immediate. “What?” he stammered, clearly taken aback.

“You didn’t know?” Astrid asked, surprised. “Y/N and I will be facing off in the semifinals.”

Y/N grit her teeth and forced a smile, the two girls eyeing each other up and down as Harry’s eyes darted anxiously between them.

Now that Y/N was into the semi-finals her next opponent was Astrid Anderson, one of the best junior, female tennis players in the county.

Who just so happened to be Harry’s ex-girlfriend.

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her-devils-advocate · 1 month

Text

Everyone I've cared about has either died or left me. Except for you.

pairings: Levi Ackerman x (GN!) reader

genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff

summary: Based on the prompt from the list found here. You and Levi have a moment amidst the final battle

Warning for the final chapter spoilers. This is just a small drabble I wrote after getting inspired by one of the sentence starters!

word count: 1,106

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54683590

The hot air rushing past you causes your hair to uncomfortably stick to your forehead. You, Levi and Gabi soar across the sea of wall titans, somewhat safe atop Falco's back. How the kid had managed this, you would never know. Honestly, you are more than happy to try and not focus on anything now. Too much is happening. Too much has been happening in such a short amount of time and you can feel yourself hitting your limit. You want to praise yourself for having such a fairly sturdy limit, all things considered, but the overwhelming amount of nerves squash that thought before it can take root. Too much has happened, too much has been lost, too much can still be lost.

Your head throbs as you attempt to ignore the onslaught of thoughts rushing through it. Your eyesight grows hazy as you try to focus on the view below you, it's all too much.

Your hands shake as they cling onto the harness attached to Falco's titan, tears pooling in your eyes as you try to blink them away. Levi is next to you, struggling to hold on tight with his newly missing fingers, which had yet to start their healing process properly. His solid presence helps to quell your rising anxiety as you reach over to hold onto his arm tightly, doing your best to help keep him secure. If he were to fall now, a piece of your heart would fall with him, never to be reclaimed.

You smile to yourself when you hear his thankful grunt, his eyes not once leaving the skeletal horror, as if his glare could lure Eren out. Once upon a time, it just might have been possible. The sight of his towering titan still causes your heart to break. The Eren you once knew has slipped between everyone’s fingers, the young cadet is now a beacon of destruction. Where had things gone wrong? How had you not seen him drifting?

For the first time in your life as a scout, a part of you is glad for the head injury you had sustained during the first assault on the founder. The events are a blur, you remember flying through the air while dodging all the rocks thrown by a beast titan. You remember a sharp pain shooting through your skull as the feeling of something sticky begins to slowly run down your temple. You remember the shout of your name from several voices before the world faded to black.

Now you are on the sidelines, simply watching rather than having to bear the pain of helping to end the kid you once helped train.

You feel some guilt for inadvertently forcing the burden onto your scouts, his friends. But the nagging tug at your heart, paired with what is most likely a nasty concussion, would only get in your way. This way, you can also keep an eye on the captain, who is more than happy to keep throwing himself into the fray despite his injuries, something you will never get used to. Your heart plummets each time he doesn't hesitate to throw himself around with his ODM gear.

You look towards Levi with a small frown, his injuries are only a few days old and yet he still fights. How much of himself is he willing to give to save humanity? How much of him are you willing to lose? You knew becoming involved with anyone in the Survey Corps was a recipe for trouble and heartbreak, but at the time, you weren’t expecting a threat bigger than the titans you had been facing. You don’t regret a single moment and while you are both still alive and fighting, you don’t need to regret anything.

You repeat his mantra of ‘no regrets’ until it slowly begins to sink in through the rising haze of panic, the two of you are still alive, yet your mind races faster than the scouts below fighting for their lives.

“Pull it together, now isn’t the time to falter…” You risk bringing a hand to rub your eyes, smudging the dirt and blood further around your face, groaning as the dull pain worsens.

Your stomach drops as Falco dips through the air, dodging stray attacks while circling the battleground below. Bile rises in your throat and you’re unsure if it's due to the head injury or the harsh movements.

“Those kids are fighting to save the world and here I am, worrying over losing him when we’ve already lost too many. How can I be so self-centered?”

“Oi,” Levi says, his voice cutting through the near-deafening wind surrounding you. He’s looking directly at you now, seeing past the mask of professionalism you like to wear when on duty. He looks through and sees the swirling anxieties, the shaking of your hands, the tense shoulders and the way you bite at your lip in worry.

“Everyone I've cared about has either died or left me. Except for you.” Your heart breaks at his words, the tears you had fought back now happily run down your cheeks, parting through streaks of mud. You try to hide your face from him, refusing to show weakness in such a moment, but he continues, capturing your attention once more.

“So you better survive, understood? Get out of your head and back in the moment, we need you alert.”

His eyes soften as he stares you down, letting you see a glimpse of the worries he keeps shackled deep down. He has managed to shuffle closer towards you while you were lost in your thoughts, now subtly pressing himself against you for support. He hooks his arm around yours, giving you a gentle squeeze as he averts his gaze to the horror below.

He can feel your eyes lock onto him, the smile on your face widening despite the tears. “Don’t get all smug, it’s hard to grab onto this rope with eight fingers.”

He always did have a way of dissolving your worries and bringing you out of your head, even when staring down hell. Wall’s know you both need to keep your eyes forward and your minds focused, no matter what.

“Whatever you say, captain. That goes for you as well, you know. If you die on me, I’m breaking into the paths and giving you such an earful.”

The small scoff you get in response is almost lost to the winds, but you don’t miss the way he places more of his weight against you.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we? Guess we’re both making it out of this one alive then.”

#♥. writing #♥. prompt #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #aot x reader #levi ackerman x you #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #aot #snk

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solar-wing · 9 months

Text

⚣ Forever 💛

⚣💛 A/N → This is a testament to how I'm unable to write anything under 1.5k words. This was supposed to be a short drabble/prompt writing and turned into a whole fic. Lord help me...still super cute though. WARNINGS: none really. just fluff. comfort vibes. emotional tingz. kind of neglectful parenting.

⚣💛 Summary → After an accident during a training session earlier, Conner and you are cuddling on a couch with your Kryptonian wanting to make sure you're safe and cared for. That includes keeping you from going back to your boarding school which is doing the opposite of that. He really doesn't like your parents.

⚣💛 Words → 4.1k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 💛

It was late at night. You and Conner were laying together under a blanket on the couch for a few hours, watching movies and random episodes from your favorite tv shows.

You were laid against a pillow on the arm of the sofa with the Kryptonian on top of you between your legs, his head lying on your chest, and arms wrapped around your body. He almost resembled a child hugging their favorite teddy bear.

You had your arms rested over his shoulders with one of your hands rubbing up and down his back while the other massaged his head, fingers threading through his dark hair while you both watched the ‘Graveyard Shift’ episode from Spongebob Squarepants.

“I still don’t get it,” Conner spoke gruffly, “How is he a talking sponge? What gives him the ability to speak and walk?

You chuckled at his words, feeling how he nuzzled his head against your chest from the vibration of your voice.

“I don’t know. It’s a cartoon. Not everything is supposed to make sense.”

“How am I supposed to follow along if I don’t get how the world functions?” He responded, taking one of his arms from under you to gesture at the TV. You couldn’t help the sigh and eye roll that came from your lips at your boyfriend’s antics.

As Spongebob screamed frantically while running to throw the trash out, you removed your hand from Conner’s head to grab your phone. He let out a disgruntled noise, turning to look at you with one of his signature frowns, “Oh, calm down, you big baby. I was just grabbing my phone.” You laughed.

He eyed you with a disapproving look before reaching to snatch your phone out of your hand before you could look at it.

“Conner!”

“Shut up and rub my head.” He mumbled, laying his head back down on your chest while tucking your phone away in his grasp under your body.

“Conner, give me my phone.” You insisted, trying to squeeze your hand under your body to retrieve it from his hands.

“Watch the talking sponge, Y/N,” He replied, scooting himself up a little so more of his body rested on you, limiting your movement.

Now, it was your turn to huff as you raised an eyebrow at his antics. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

He didn’t respond to you, but you knew he was holding a smug look on his face.

It had been the same thing for the past few nights. You and Conner would hang out with the team after a mission or training session. Then, you both would separate from everyone else to spend time with each other whether that was reading, sparring, laying out by the beach, watching television, or other stuff.

At some point, you’d realize how late it was and would check your phone to see the time.

The boarding school you attended had a strict curfew policy, and while you had broken this rule multiple times (sometimes in a row) for team missions, you couldn’t count on Batman or Red Tornado to write you an excuse as your ‘parents’ for the simple reason of cuddling with your boyfriend.

Thus, whenever you reached for your phone to check the time, Conner knew it meant you were about to leave. So, for the third night in a row, your boyfriend attempted to prevent that by keeping your phone from you.

The first night, he simply kept it in his pocket. Everything was fine as you hadn’t even noticed it was missing until you were making out with him in his room, and your roommate had called, wondering why you weren’t back yet as it was close to curfew.

He smiled sheepishly at you, cursing himself for forgetting to silence the ringtone.

The next night, the Kryptonian remembered to place it on silent and decided to leap up to one of the high walls in the Cave to hide it up there. You could’ve left without it if it wasn’t for the fact that the locks on the door to your dorm were Bluetooth-enabled, requiring a link from an app you could only access on your phone, which you now regretted telling him.

When you spent half an hour searching around the Cave for it, you demanded he tell you where it was since you had already searched his pockets and room. He promised to give it to you in the morning with a cheeky smile thinking he’d won since it was getting late.

The smile was quickly wiped from his face when he discovered the beauty of Find My iPhone after watching you use it on your computer to locate the phone and make it ring.

Though, remembering where he left it, he kept his smirk since he knew only he’d be able to reach it, at least until he watched you fly up and grab it, landing in front of him with your arms crossed eyebrows raised in mocking victory.

He forgot about that as well.

Now, he resorted to simply holding your phone hostage, figuring as long as you couldn’t get it out of his grip, you’d have to stay, and he could cuddle you all night.

“Conner, I’m so serious right now. Give me my phone.” You demanded, starting to get annoyed with your boyfriend’s childish antics.

“No.” He responded, tightening his arm around your body.

“Conner, come on, please!” You grabbed at his black shirt, pulling it back and forth to shake him.

“Why can’t you just stay here? You could transfer to Happy Harbor with M’Gann, Zatanna, and me.” He whined when he realized you weren’t going to give up easily.

Another sigh escaped your lips as you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. This was also the third time you had this conversation.

“Conner, you know why I can’t do that.” You said, even if there was nothing more you wanted to do than exactly what he suggested.

But you couldn’t, and he knew it, hence the unhappy grumbling under his breath.

It wasn’t your school that was the problem. It was your parents.

You hailed from one of the wealthiest families on the east coast, right up there with Lex Luthor and Bruce Wayne, who they both knew through social events. But, they shared ideologies that aligned more with Lex regarding his view of Superman.

It didn’t help when they realized their son possessed abilities similar to the Man of Steel. Minus the heat/X-ray vision and super strength, you could fly, manipulate energy fields, move at inhuman speeds, and possessed enhanced durability. Not the same as invulnerability but somewhat still close.

Your parents sent you to your boarding school under the guise that they wanted the best education for you, but in reality, they wanted the scientists at the school to find a way to ‘cleanse’ you of your powers. Something Lex Luthor was happy to help with at their request.

Eventually, during another one of Lex’s attempts to destroy Superman, the Justice League found a way to hack into LexCorp, discovering your existence and the experiments being performed on you through an encrypted file. When Batman, aka Bruce Wayne, recognized your picture, he along with Superman and The Flash showed up at your school (in disguise) to meet you.

When they revealed who they were, you excitedly showed them the extent of your abilities, thoroughly impressing them. You told them about your parents and their wish to rid you of your powers and that you didn’t know where they came from, but you had been teaching yourself how to control them. They told you they could help you learn more about your powers with time and study, especially on the newly discovered possibility of you gaining new ones over time from the information they found in your file from LexCorp.

With little convincing needed, they recruited you to The Team without your parent’s knowledge, and that’s when you met your boyfriend, Conner Kent, aka Superboy.

Of course, this posed many potential problems.

You couldn’t risk tipping off your parents or Lex Luthor that you were with the Justice League since it could put you and the team at risk, but also your parents. Plus, the scientists couldn’t be allowed to continue their experiments on you with any success. Thankfully, you were smart enough to never reveal all your abilities to them.

The most they knew was that you could fly and move really fast. So, you had to find subtle ways to sabotage it, which the Dark Knight was more than happy to help in that department.

He did advise not to tell your story to your teammates yet, especially Conner until they found a way to shut down Lex’s little project without hurting your parents. Of course, you agreed.

You may not have seen eye to eye with them all the time, but you didn’t want any harm to come to them because of you. Plus, with someone like Lex Luthor involved, even you knew there was more to his words than he let on. There was a very real possibility of him using whatever came out of those experiments in a ploy against Superman and the entire Justice League. It was almost definite.

It wasn’t until Conner overheard one of your conversations with Batman in the main room that the team started to get suspicious about your mysterious origins, so they sent him to try and figure it out. He overheard you on the phone with your parents saying how much you had been ‘enjoying’ your time at the school and that ‘Uncle Lex’s’ tests were very effective.

They were all lies, of course, but Conner didn’t know that when he rushed back to tell the others.

Leading to a mess of complicated events, including a fake mission, you tied to a tree, and Wally, for whatever reason, throwing peanuts at you. Thankfully, Batman revealed the truth to your ‘captors,’ leading them to give you embarrassed apologies.

Accepted by the team now, you got a suit to conceal your identity from not only Lex but also your parents. And you chose the alias, ‘Primus.’

This also sparked the beginning of your and Conner’s relationship with you both sharing a connection over being subjects of Lex Luthor’s experimenting, which is an odd way to bond, but slay queens.

Of course, there was already an attraction between the two of you when you first joined that had the Kryptonian confused, but the fact that he and your other comrades thought you were some molerat sent to spy on the team got in the way of him exploring that attraction.

But, not that everything was in the air, he was free to pursue his interests in you which also led him to want to tell you the truth about his connection to Lex Luthor.

The day he told you was one to remember. You were hanging out with the team on the beach and decided to ask why Batman told you to specifically never mention your background to Conner. When you saw how everyone tensed, you became nervous but he still told you, not wanting to have any secrets between you two. He was scared to tell you, thinking you would look at him differently and not consider him an actual person.

Your response left everyone speechless.

“Wow. You are a miracle to all the gays around the world.”

He held a confused expression on his face as well as M’Gann. Wally, Artemis, and Zatanna couldn’t stop laughing while Dick and Kaldur tried to hide their chuckles.

After that, you two became inseparable. He and M’Gann had already broken up due to him realizing he only felt a friendship for M’Gann, considering he didn’t understand feelings and emotions that well when he came out of the pod hence him having to ‘explore’ his attraction to you. And explore he did…

Wait, are we keeping this PG-13? Well, no one told—Ugh, fine.

He was very very very interested in you.

Happy?

Anyway, when he discovered the world around him, he only saw guys with girls and girls with guys, figuring that was what he was supposed to do.

Then, you came into his life, and, well…he thought his stomach was broken for a week and a half.

It was butterflies.

As you and he discovered your feelings for each other and soon entered a relationship, Conner began to see how some of the experiments were affecting you. Batman and the League still hadn’t found a way to shut down Lex’s operation quietly and safely, and he became frustrated with the time and danger it posed for you.

Even with Batman’s sabotage attempts, the scientist’s tampering with your powers was causing various side effects putting a strain on your body. There was never a moment when the topic of your ‘schooling’ came up that Conner did not make clear how he felt about your parents.

Plus, since he made it his personal responsibility to walk you back to your campus every night (wearing a disguise, of course) to make sure you got back safely, at some point, he was bound to meet your roommate.

Conner had accompanied you to the gate of your campus, insisting that he walk you to your room to make sure you got back, but you didn’t want to take any chances of Lex discovering him here and linking you two together. Then, your roommate Mason decided to appear at that very moment.

You’d be lying six ways to Sunday if you said the expression on Conner’s face was neutral, at a bare minimum.

After an awkward exchange, your roommate headed to your shared dorm, saying he got you some food from the dining hall, which, for whatever reason, Conner did not appreciate.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Conner’s first words were, ‘I don’t like him.’ That was the first time he suggested you come live at the Cave with him and the others. When you told him you couldn’t, he suggested (demanded) you switch rooms, to which you reminded him you’d just get placed with another guy. So he circled back to the first option, and you chose to kiss him and run back to your room before he decided to drag you back to Mount Justice (which you had no doubt he would do given the opportunity).

So yeah, it was safe to say Connerhated when you’d leave back to campus every night.

“I don’t like your parents,” He growled, the 1000th time you’ve probably heard him say that exact sentence.

“Conner, I need to get back,” You spoke softly, rubbing his head again, hoping he would give in. But, knowing him and how stubborn he could be, there wasn’t that much hope in the world.

“No, you don’t! You need to stay here where I can keep you safe.” He remarked, pushing himself up and throwing the blanket to the floor before standing up to walk toward his room with your phone still in his hand.

“Conner…” You groaned, getting up yourself and following after him.

You continued to call out to him as you walked through the hallways, eventually reaching the door to his room just as your phone began ringing in his hand.

“Oh look, it’s your little boyfriend now.”

You could see Mason’s contact appearing across your phone screen before he opened the door to his bedroom walking inside. And even though you could hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice, the urge to make a joke was hard to resist.

“I have another boyfriend? Wow. I must be hot stuff,” You chuckled, flipping imaginary hair out of your face while following him inside the bedroom before closing the door behind you.

Conner held a sour look at your words, very much not impressed. “Not funny,” He huffed.

“What! You said it. Come on, Conner. You know what will happen if I don’t go back.”

“And I know what will happen if you do go back!” He shouted.

You froze right where you were, surprised at the outburst while he continued his tirade, “You barely could keep up today with training. You’ve got so many drugs and serums running through your body, not to mention Batman’s dilutions to nullify their effects and it’s clearly taking a toll on you! You think I didn’t notice how exhausted you looked when you put up that shield? Let’s not forget you basically fell out of the air mid-flight and would’ve hit the ground from 50 feet up if I hadn’t caught you in time. These experiments are hurting you, Y/N! And you think I’m just going to keep letting you go back so they can do more twisted shit to you? Do you really think I’m going to be okay with that?!”

At this point, Conner had grabbed you by your shoulders, his voice almost in hysterics.

You could tell he was trying to sound unaffected, but the trembling in his voice was unmistakable. His hands clenched at your shoulders, dropping your phone on the ground which probably cracked and broke it, yet, you couldn’t find an ounce of care in your body about it seeing how distressed your boyfriend was standing in front of you.

The experiments were becoming more extreme, there was no denying it. You were the one on the end of the needles and syringes, so you’d definitely know.

Conner was right, it was definitely putting more stress on your body from constantly fighting the drugs and ‘medicines’ they injected into you. Batman thought adding what he called a ‘dilution’ solution (rhyme unintended) to counter the effects of the drugs would help. But, your body’s immune system saw it as another foreign virus and attempted to flush it from your system.

He and the Red Tornado were concerned when they saw how you were barely keeping up with the others during training. Usually, you were easily the most combative fighter on your team, picking up your lessons and training easily when you joined. But, the last few weeks had been different with today being the worst out of all of them.

Just trying to fly felt like you were pulling 10 truckloads of bricks, and that was usually the easiest thing for you to do. When had basically fainted during an exercise and fell out of flight, Conner had to leap up to catch you before you hit the ground head-first.

Everyone came to make sure you were okay while the Kryptonian lost it on the Dark Knight. Not only was he yelling and shouting at him, he was also blaming the entire League for allowing you to stay in this situation as long as they did and threatened that if they didn’t find a way to get you out of that school and away from Lex’s experiments soon, he’d take matters into his own hands.

He carried you away to his room to rest, stating you were done with training for the day. When you woke up to him staring at you while caressing your face, you jokingly asked if you should be worried about this in the future.

You were still slightly confused on why you were in his room and had asked him what happened only for him to respond with a kiss on your lips before nuzzling his face into your neck, breathing in your scent.

When you figured he wasn’t ready to speak about it, that’s when you suggested going to the lounge room to watch movies and TV, figuring he wouldn’t let you out of his sight from his behavior. He carried you the way there and was going to let you rest against him, but you said you liked it better when he laid against you (which he did too but he would never admit it).

Your friends had stopped by to check on you when they were passing through, and while thanking them and letting them know you were okay, you had to pinch at your boyfriend’s back a few times feeling how tense he got from his arms tightening around you whenever one of them came closer than he liked.

He was almost like a guard dog that was on full alert, seeing anything that came near you as a possible threat. Somehow, you got the sense that a part of him needed to be near you and constantly holding or having some type of physical contact with you, assuring himself that you were okay and safe. You figured it was a Kryptonian thing.

Now, you knew exactly what happened and why he had been so clingy with you and grumpy at everyone who came by, especially Batman. He looked like he wanted to snap his head off.

And the look on his face communicated his feelings clearly as day without him having to say a word. He was scared, terrified really. You figured the sight of you falling and hitting the ground like that had more than an impressionable effect on the Kryptonian. If the roles were reversed and it was him that almost got hurt like that, you’d probably (definitely) be acting the same way (worse actually).

“Conner, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize-” You started to apologize but he didn’t let you finish, pressing his lips against yours.

You stood there lost in each other for a moment, forgetting about the world outside the bedroom door and all the problems you had. It was a blissful moment, one you wish you could stay in forever.

Eventually, though, you had to come up for air, breaking the kiss as Conner once again brought a hand up to caress your face.

“Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault, but the only way you’re going back to that school is if I’m going with you. And if not, then you’re staying here.” He declared to which you raised a playful eyebrow.

It was no secret to anyone but you that you very much enjoyed how protective your boyfriend was over you, liking to poke at him a few times just to get a reaction.

“Do I get a say in this?” You asked, twirling your fingers through the hair at the back of his head.

A slight smirk appeared on his lips before he leaned his head down between your jaw and shoulder. You leaned to the side, allowing him more access while he traced his nose up and down your neck.

“Nope,” He stated.

“Rude.”

“Don’t care.”

You stood there in silence for a few more minutes with your head resting on his shoulder while he still traced your neck, planting a few kisses now and then. His hands were rubbing up and down your back with one slipping under your shirt to press against your skin which left you shuddering in his hold. How was it a man who ran so hot could have hands that felt so cold?

“Why can’t we stay here forever?” You muttered, nuzzling your face into his chest.

“We could if you’d just move in here. We could wake up and have breakfast together. Go to school together. Have movie nights all the time. You could sleep in my room, which means we could even-”

“Ah ah ah, watch those hands, tough guy!” Your hands shot down to his wrists, stopping them from reaching into your pants with a laugh.

PG-13, remember?

Ever since he was introduced to the world of corny but with an ‘H,’ you’d had a hard time keeping his hands off you. His libido was something else. Another Kryptonian thing, you figured.

He playfully whined as you dragged his hands off you before leaning down to grab your phone off the floor. Surprisingly, it didn’t have a scratch on them. There were missed calls and messages from Mason, alerting you that curfew was soon and asking where you were. Conner grumbled as he watched you reply to your roommate's messages.

“Oh, hush you, big baby. I’m asking him to cover for me since I’m apparently spending the night. You’re lucky it’s Friday,” You laughed before he snatched your phone again, “Conner!”

He held your phone above you, using the phone’s camera to snap a picture of you two before quickly sending it to Mason. You launched yourself off the ground to snatch the device back while flying above the room to see what he sent.

“Seriously?”

“Had to make sure he knows whose room you’re gonna be sleeping in,” He joked, though you knew part of him was serious. The boy was so freaking territorial.

You loved it though.

A hum sounded from your lips though when a thought came to mind and a mischievous grin appeared on your face as you tapped your phone against your chin, “Maybe I’ll tell him I’m bored and ask him to come to get me.”

That wiped the smirk off his face quickly, “You wouldn’t…”

You played like you were typing a fake message as Conner jumped at you, chasing you all over the room.

Yeah, you knew you wanted to stay here forever.

☀️ | Conner Kent/Superboy | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

422 notes · View notes

fanta2y · 3 months

Text

Puppy Love

ahh sorry ive been meaning to post this fic for a couple days now but ive been swamped with school, but its here now !! yahoo!

i hope you guys like ittt <3

cw: slightly suggestive? and i mean SLIGHTLY

word count: 2k

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Yuuji was never scared to show his affections. Whether that be with his encouraging words, or his physical touches. He knew that his time was limited, especially with his unorthodox life choices, so showing his love to the people he loved was something that had always came easy to him.

Until you came along.

Everytime you entered a room his eyes immediately found yours, and just as they met he would rip them away from you. A blush almost instantly appearing on his cheeks as he stood, quickly and quietly excusing himself.

For Kugisaki and Fushiguro, it was easy to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Having known Yuuji for quite some time now, they knew what his normal behavior was. And this? This was far from it.

But for you, you were new. Having just met these people days before, so you were convinced that you had done something to offend him, or he just simply didn’t like you. Maybe you stunk?

Little did you know, his thoughts were the exact opposite. He thought you were gorgeous, your laugh was like music to his ears. Your voice was soothing and beautiful, he could listen to you talk for hours. But this sickly sweet feeling that raised his heartbeat and brought heat to his face was something very new to him. Something he hadn’t really experienced before.

Sure, he had found girls attractive before, even asked a girl out to their middle school dance. But this was different, this was deeper. It coiled around his bones, squeezing his throat. Made him do things and say things he didn’t want. It was infuriating.

He groaned into his pillow, his mind tormenting him with a replay of his embarrassing moments in front of you today. He wanted the earth to swallow him whole, or better yet just let Sukuna take over and have him kill him instead. Anything would be better than him continuing to fumble about like this any longer.

Knowing he wasn’t going to get any sleep anytime soon, he figured he might be able to tire himself out enough to simply pass out due to exhaustion. Hoping it would shut his mind up. Yuuji stood from his bed, putting on some old tennis shoes and throwing a hoodie on. He went out of his dorm and headed for the training rooms.

He clenched and unclenched his fists all the way there, his mind plagued with you.

You. You. You.

You were all he ever seemed to think about these days.

He did some quick stretching, wanting nothing more than to just start the mind-numding activity of punching something over and over and over again. Until his brain was too tired to come up with any new scenarios to torture him with.

But of course, just as he goes to throw his first punch. He hears an all too familiar voice.

“Itadori? What are you doing awake?” Your voice echoed off the empty gym walls. He froze, his heartbeat immediately picking up. The blush full force on his cheeks. He couldn’t get his brain and his mouth to cooperate so he just stood there, back facing you. His mouth wide open in shock, he almost wanted to laugh at his sheer luck.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, after the silence pushed on too long. You words were coated in a thick layer of worry. While you were still sure the boy hated you, and you knew you might be pushing your luck. You didn’t just want to stand there and pretend like nothing was wrong. It was nearly 2 in the morning and here he is, training. Any one in their right mind would be a bit worried.

“I’m fine…” He managed to choke out, He's such an idiot. What is wrong with him. Why can’t he just speak!

“If you need the training room I can go.” He muttered quickly, turning quick on his feet to walk past you. His eyes glued to the floor, walking with a newfound purpose back to his dorms.

“No wa-..” But before you could even finish your sentence he was already gone, without even a second glance your way. The doors to the gym slammed shut. And all of a sudden it was just you alone.

You sighed, your head falling forward into your hands as you stood there. You felt embarrassed and a bit ticked. You had tried and tried to rack your brain to figure out if you had done something, anything, to make him this upset. But you realized that you hadn’t had the chance to make him upset because after you had introduced yourself to him, he had been avoiding you like the plague.

You groaned, stretching your hands over your head. Turning on your heels to head back to your room, a new feeling of determination settling in you. You were going to get to the bottom of this even if its the last thing you do.

The next morning you rolled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. The interrupted sleep definitely did you no favors, but upon remembering last night's incident you remembered your goal.

To figure Itadori out.

You both saw each other in class, usually sitting on opposite ends. But today, you were going to be bold. And after whispering about it to Kugisaki, who nodded fervently at your efforts. A glint in her eyes you couldn’t quite name. She sent you off to the empty desk next to his with a whisper, “Gooo…this class is boring anyways!”

You heard her giggling behind you as you willed away the nerves. He hadn’t come in yet, he had a notorious habit for sleeping in just a little. Not enough for him to be late, but enough for him to be right on time.

He walked in, panting slightly. His hair was a bit all over the place and he was definitely wearing the hoodie he had on last night. When both of your eyes met, he quickly tore them away. Not even giving himself a chance to realize where you were in the room. The realization didn’t strick him until he had sat down and saw you were much closer than you usually were.

But before he could move, Gojo had walked in. Declaring the start of the lecture, and the start of Yuujis slow and tortuous day.

To say you were frustrated was an understatement. At every opportunity you had tried to get him alone to talk to him, even flat out asking him “Can I speak to you?” to which he had the audacity to respond with, “I’m actually a bit busy, maybe later?” Even though he very clearly wasn’t doing anything.

You had sat next to him for each and every class, you even passed him a note! You had gotten yourself as his sparring partner for training, even finding yourself sitting at his, Fushiguro and Kugisaki’s table for lunch.

Even though all the time you guys had spent together today, he had barely uttered a word to you. And didn’t even think about letting you talk to him.

You wanted to pull your hair out.

Sitting in your last class, next to him of course. You were staring him down, and he seemed the more interested in the lecture than he had ever been before. You knew he was just trying to avoid accidentally making eye contact with you. And it only boiled your blood more.

What was this guy's issue?!

As Gojo wrapped up the last lecture of the day, an idea popped into your head. And before you could talk yourself out of it, you were reaching for Itadori's hand. Entangling it tightly within your own and leading him very quickly out of the room. You heard Kugisaki yelling some type of encouragement after you, but you didn’t pay it much mind.

“I- what are you doing?!” Itadori asked behind you, bewildered by your sudden boldness. You didn’t give him the luxury of a response, especially since you didn’t quite know yourself. All you knew was that if he wasn’t going to talk to you of his own accord, you were going to force it out of him.

You spotted an empty classroom, and before you could think much about it you shoved him inside. Shutting the door behind you and standing infront of it.

He stood, shocked. His mind blank as he desperately tried to process the events of what just happened. But the warmth of your hand still on his wrist short-circuited his brain to a point where it was beyond function. On instinct, he ripped his wrist from yours as if the touch had burned him.

“What is your problem with me?” You wanted to sound angry, you wanted to be angry. You were angry a second ago. But now, standing in front of him. You found yourself to be anything but. Your voice sounded weak, soft, sad. It made you cringe.

This stopped him, pulled him far enough out of his own head to clear the fog of whatever he felt for you to see the situation for what it was.

He was such an asshole.

“What do you mean? I dont-” You interrupted him with a scoff. “Oh please, you avoid me like I have some disease, you don’t look at me. You went this entire day without saying more than 2 words to me…I just, I don’t understand and look I’m sorry if I offenunmph.”

Before you could even finish your sentence, you felt warm lips on yours. Slightly chapped, but nice. It felt nice. You reacted almost instantaneously, melting into the kiss. It was sweet, just your lips moving against eachother.

He pulled away, panting slightly. Out of instinct you leaned forward to follow his lips, he chuckled at you. Resting his head on your forehead instead. “I’m sorry.” He whispered between the shared breaths. His eyes now seemingly to be unable to leave yours. His gaze was overwhelming, for a split second you almost wished he would go back to avoiding you. You didn’t know how much of this you could take.

Now it was your turn to avoid his gaze, turning your head to the side. You put your hands on his chest, going to push him away from you. Your cheeks turning bright pink as the realization of what just happened settled into the air.

You laughed forcefully, “All is forgiven! You can go now.” Speaking all too quickly, your tried again to put some distance between you and him. Cursing past you for standing against the door as you now have no place to back up from. He was so close, his hot breath fanning over your already too warm cheeks.

Silently, he reached his hand to your chin. It felt like a spell had be broken, the shyness and avoidance you had gotten use to these past weeks disappeared as if it had never existed in the first place.

He turned your head to face his again, “No really, I’m sorry. I’ve been an asshole.” He sounded so sincere it made you sick, his eyes finding yours again. Holding you hostage under the intense gaze. Without thinking, your eyes flicked down to his lips again, quickly looking back up to his eyes. But not quick enough for it to go unnoticed. The small smile that tugged on his lips was all the warning you got before his lips were on yours again.

This sudden boldness had taken you by surprised, as you were pressed even further against the door. He crowded around you, hand moving from your chin to cup the back of your neck. Keeping your lips pressed against his as they melded together, lips and tongues intertwining. The kiss quickly turned heated as you forced your head back to rest against the door behind you.

“Let me make it up to you.”

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authors note: IDK GUYS I KINDA ATE WITH THIS :))))) i really do like the way it turned out and i hope you guys do too!!! make sure your taking care of yourselves, much love <3

#itadori yuuji #yuuji itadori #itadori x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk #jujustu kaisen x reader #itadori fluff #yuuji itadori fluff #itadori yuji #yuji itadori #jujustu kaisen fluff #hes so cute #my little shy baby #love him sm #thanks for reading !!!#<3

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strawchocoberry · 10 months

Text

YOUR LIPS LOOK LONELY, I CAN FIX THAT

୨୧ featuring: shidou ryusei, oliver aiku, itoshi sae, noel noa, michael kaiser x fem reader

ଘ cw: smut, face sitting, orgasm denial, edging, multiple orgasms, spanking, degradation kink, dacryphilia, pet names

୨୧ synopsis: you take your rightful seat on their face and let them ruin your cunt

ଘ wc: 2.1k

ʚ SHIDOU RYUSEI ɞ

Everything was plain and simple with him. He wants it, he got it. No matter what you said, all your words fell into a brick wall. In the end, he would get his way with you, having you do exactly as he wanted you to. There was something in him, something in that horny demon, that made all your hesitations vanish into thin air. Just like right now that you were on your knees on top of the couch with Shidou making a feast out of your soaked cunt. His tongue drove you crazy, reaching deep inside you, making your thighs tremble and almost crush his skull. Even if you ended up smashing his head, he wouldn’t give two flying fucks about it.

He was brutal, violent and aggressive, fucking your cunt with his tongue like a beast. His arms were wrapped around your thighs, pinching and slapping them every once in a while. Your sweet whiny moans turned him on, making him obsessed with the electricity that ran through his entire body. “S-Shidou… Slow down… Please…” you begged, only for him to outrageously condemn your pleas. His biting your inner thigh caused you to whine from the slight stinging pain.

“Stay put and let me do my work, slut,” he cursed. He launched attack after attack on your assaulted cunt, having you cum on his face a couple times. Yet his sexual desires were still far from being quenched. And even after all that, you were still pathetically begging him to show you some mercy, cheeks stained from tears and ruined mascara. Shidou found that amusing, your pleas only driving him into ravaging your cunt more. Your thighs were filled with his marks; bruises, bites, scratches.

It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t help it. You were just too good a temptation for him, forcing him to sin for a taste of your sweet nectar. He didn’t hate it, he could never hate it. He sadistically kept pushing you to your limits. Every time you claimed you couldn’t continue, he proved you wrong. You might have been cursing him, but you secretly loved it. And he knew it.

ʚ OLIVER AIKU ɞ

You tried to remember how you got yourself in this situation. One moment you’re being an insufferable brat, demanding his attention at all costs. You kept pestering him, when he had clearly told you that he wasn’t done with his daily exercise routine. And the next moment Oliver has you sitting on his face, giving in to your pleads. “This is your punishment for acting all bratty,” he explained, running a long lick on your folds, before taking his time abusing your clit. You tried to stop him, but soon enough he had you a babbling little mess, moaning his name in-between incoherent words. His tongue leisurely explored your inner world, penetrating your cunt and sending waves of ecstasy throughout your body.

Your hands gripped tightly onto each side of the training bench, your legs almost giving in to the pleasure Oliver was mercilessly showering you with. His bulky arms were supporting your legs, keeping them in place to give him the best view on the house. He would retreat for mere seconds, just enough to take a deep breath, before throwing himself back to your drenched folds. You were lost, the only thing on your mind was his sinister tongue driving you past the edge of insanity. “I-It-It’s too much… T-Too much…” you cried, your breath hitching on your throat. “I-I… I-I cannot—”

The only thing making your situation a living hell was Oliver denying you over and over again. When he had first mentioned that this was a sort of punishment, you weren’t sure what he meant exactly. You enjoyed it, which you shouldn’t. He could feel you were close, thus picked up his pace. And then, nothing. He backed away, panting hard with a devilish smirk on his lips. You had lost count of how long this was going on, how many orgasms you had been denied. “Don’t lie to me, baby.” He kissed your abused cunt. “I know you can hold on a little longer. Pretty please~”

He was riling you up again, soaking his lips in your sweet liquor that made him drunk. He was savouring every little jolt of your body whenever his tongue penetrated your hole, every honeyed moan and every grumpy whine that escaped your lips. “Oli… Ver… Please… I want to… Cum…” you begged. You sounded desperate and you were. Just the thought of him edging you to your orgasm only to sadistically leave you needy for release tormented your being. Your body wasn’t going to last any longer of his cruelty. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, finally feeling your orgasm hitting you. Oliver ate you out through all of it, not letting a single drop of your slick go to waste.

ʚ ITOSHI SAE ɞ

He might have been the one to ask you to sit on his face, but he was surprised when you agreed. Despite the blunt expression on his face, you knew he was secretly happy you had obliged to his request. And oh you were so glad you had agreed. Holding onto the headboard tightly, you let him do whatever he pleased. His arms were resting on your waist, occasionally sliding down to squeeze your ass. But the thing that had your legs trembling on each side of his head was that wicked tongue of his which was swimming freely in your wetness.

Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t have been able to hold back your moans. Not when he was licking long, flat stripes one after the other on your cunt. Not when he was using his tongue to play with your clit as he deemed fit. And definitely not when he was moaning in your cunt, making your whole body electrify by the sensation. Sae wasn’t rushing and that irritated you. You wanted to move your hips faster, yet his arms were bruisingly holding you in place. The only thing you could do now was hang on tight and await for the play he had made to unravel.

You screamed when his tongue caught you off guard and penetrated your velvety walls. His arms rocked your body on his lips, throwing you on a loop of endless pleasure. He moaned at the way you creamed on his tongue, his ears blessed by your melodic lust laced voice. Your nails were dug into the headboard and you wouldn’t let go, afraid that your body might collapse from the pure blissfulness of your lightheadedness. “Fuck… I-I’m close…” you moaned breathlessly.

His hands cupped your ass cheeks, spreading them, giving him even better access to send you to cloud nine. You were lost in a trance, your body trembling from him making you cum. He guided your hips, helping you ride his face through your orgasm. You were crying and moaning his name, experiencing a high like never before. You grabbed a handful of his hair and made him look at you. He seemed pleased by your tear stained cheeks, heavy breathing and long lost voice. “Don’t even dream of moving away. I’m not done.”

ʚ NOEL NOA ɞ

You hadn’t quite understood what he meant when he told you that a snack would help his mind relax from the hectic amount of logical thoughts. So, when he expressed his desire to eat you out, you blankly stared at him, but complied nevertheless. Sitting on the edge of his bed, slightly holding your lower body up by supporting yourself with your arms firmly on it, he sat down in-between your legs. The moment his lips kissed your cunt, followed by a long, fat stride, you hollered.

Every move of his tongue was precise and delivered with utmost accuracy in order to satisfy your needs. You whimpered, your drenched cunt being penetrated by his tongue. His big hands were roaming from your thighs to your waist, lifting your shirt along the way, tickling your tummy. Even so, your mind could only focus on how he ate you out, making you a soaking wet whimpering mess. “Noa… Noa…” He made you more and more needy and that pleased him. Your whimpers urged him to continue, sucking now on your clit, lollying it, throwing you in lustful waves of pleasure.

His hands left bruises on your waist, as he attempted to keep you in place. He grazed your thighs, sending shivers throughout your body. Your breathing was erratic and hectic, trying to keep up with his tongue running rampant in Noa’s home turf. There was no field the best striker in the world couldn’t conquer. And he never failed to prove himself true to his title. Even when he was eating you out. “I-I’m… Cum-Cumming…” your voice shook, as he hungrily tasted your juices, savouring every last bit of it.

You were breathing hard, chest panting up and down, as you tried to ground yourself back to earth. Noa was drawing soothing circles on your thighs, taking this chance to catch his long lost breath as well. He nuzzled his nose on your inner thigh, smirking at your little jolt of surprise. Your hand reached out and your fingers ran through his short white hair, making him hum delighted at your soft touch. Kissing your inner thigh, his eyes looked up at you. “I’m still hungry.”

ʚ MICHAEL KAISER ɞ

He ordered you to sit on his face and who were you to deny his, the emperor’s, command? Sitting on your knees on the couch, you held tightly onto the backrest, while the emperor took his sweet time savouring your delectable cunt as if it were some sort of exotic dish. His tongue would thrust into your hole forcefully when you least expected it, making you whimper, curving a smirk in his lips. His nose teasingly nuzzled against your clit, arousing you more and more, making your little cunt more sensitive to his assaults. His hands were holding onto your thighs, holding them still or guiding them to ride his face. And oh his occasional muffled moans were more than enough to make you cum on their own.

Kaiser would send you to your climax and eat you out throughout it. He would then leave kisses and bites on your inner thighs, as you enjoyed the luxury of a small moment of respite, before he was at it again. And whenever you dared raise an objection to his actions, he would slap your ass with his left hand, the thorny briars of his tattoo sinking into your skin with the stinging pain of the red hand print on your ass cheek. “Know your place,” he spat. “Shut up and take what I give you, whore.” He slapped your ass again. His tongue took you to the heavens only for his sadistic side to bring you down to the deepest parts of hell, as he kept giving you one orgasm after another.

You were a mumbling mess, meowling incoherent nonsense along with his name. Oh how pleased he was to listen to you begging him to stop, only to make you miserably cry in the end. Your legs were trembling and you could barely feel them from all your orgasms. Your little cunt was pulsating, abused and at the mercy of his tongue. You creamed more with each long stride he licked on your soft folds. You moaned with his aggressive sucking on your clit. And you screamed with the brutal thrusts of his tongue. You were holding tightly for dear life, but you could be knocked out from excessive pleasure any moment now.

“Kaiser… Please… I-I can’t…” you half-cried, half-moan your plea. He didn’t spare a single glance at you, too busy to hear your whimpery call for him. He forced the air to leave your lungs, making you gasp at the lack of it, your chest frantically moving up and down in an attempt to get the much needed oxygen. Your whole body quivered, as he showered you with lustful ecstasy. His hands cradled your hips as he had you ride his lips through your orgasm, moaning his name. Kaiser peppered your thighs with soft kisses, but you were too numb to feel it, too dumbfucked to notice it.

#୨୧｡˚₊♡꒰ strawchocoberry ꒱♡₊˚｡୨୧ #blue lock #blue lock smut #blue lock thirst #shido ryusei #shido ryusei x reader #shido ryusei smut #oliver aiku #oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku smut #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae smut #noel noa #noel noa x reader #noel noa smut #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser smut

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trcpicoz · 1 month

Note

I need the whole kink alphabet with mr ruben dias por favor🤪

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 - 𝐑𝐃

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝟏𝟖+

A = Aftercare | How do they take care of their partner after a session? How do they prefer to be taken care of?

when it comes to aftercare with ruben it depends on how rough the sex was. if it was a rough session, he’ll follow it up with loads of praise and cuddling and a spa like bath with oils and candles to relax you from how intense the sex was. for softer slower sex he’ll get you cleaned up and make you some sweets to wind down with him in bed.

B = Bondage | Do they like to be tied up or do the tying? Do they like rope, handcuffs or something else?

no, he doesn’t like anything restrictive for either of you.

C = Collar | Do they like collars? Leashes? Or other symbols of ownership?

no, ruben likes to display his ownership verbally and physically.

D = Dominance | Are they more of a Dominant or a submissive? Switch?

ruben is strictly dominant. he loves throwing you on the bed like a doll and overpowering you with the strength of his hands and power of his thrusts.

E = Edgeplay | How do they feel about edgeplay?

ruben loves edging you and getting edged but only on occasion as it’s very intense for him and you.

F = Feelings | How do they feel about their kinks? Do they make them feel euphoric, safe, shameful, etc?

ruben felt shameful of his kinks at first because he felt like he was some kind of degenerate, until he met you. allowing him to release his more aggressive and dominant side has been healing and euphoric for him, that’s why he loves you.

G = Garments | Do they have any particular clothing kinks? )Thigh highs, leather, lingerie, costumes, etc...)

ruben LOVES lingerie but only if you love it. whenever he buy lingerie for you he gets your approval because you feeling sexy turns him on so much he love confidence. ruben himself also has some sexy underwear in drawer.

H = Heated | How do they feel about angry sex? Hate sex?

ruben loves taking his anger out through sex. whenever he loses a game or gets into it with pep he gets super aggressive but not to the point where he’s dangerous, just very dominant and rough.

*ruben comes home from training after an argument with pep*

“hey baby how was-”

“take your clothes off”

I = Importance | How important are their kinks to them? Would they be satisfied with a partner who doesn’t share them?

ruben is satisfied with whatever you want. obviously you loving his kinks are a plus but as long as he has you he doesn’t mind.

J = Just Kidding | How do they handle discussing or confessing their kinks?

he doesn’t handle it well at all. it’s hard for ruben to open up about his kinks.

K = Kinks | What are their kinks?

cum play

choking

angry/hate sex

edging

praising

L = Limits | What are their soft and hard limits?

his limit is degrading, he can’t bring himself to ever degrade you even if he doesn’t mean it.

M = Masturbation | Would they ever masturbate with a partner?

he’s tried to do it before and ended up inside you.

N = Noise | What sort of things do they say? What sounds do they make?

ruben does a lot of deep grunting especially when he’s angry fucking you he takes all of out on your pussy. while he can be very aggressive in bed, he also loves praising you while he’s roughly fucking you.

“my beautiful princess”

“you take it like such a good girl”

“you’re so good at swallowing my cum”

O = Orgies | Have they or would they ever have sex with multiple partners?

no, ruben only wants you.

P = Porn | Do they like porn? Would they ever make a video with their partner?

ruben doesn’t like watching porn much but he loves to make videos with you for when he’s away from you.

Q = Questions | How curious are they about other kinks? Do they have some they’d like to explore?

ruben doesn’t like to explore much unless you urge him to. he’s not that open with his kinks and it takes him a while to express them.

R = Roleplay | Do they enjoy roleplaying?

no, he’s not the role playing type.

S = Safeword | What is their safeword? What do they do when the safeword gets called?

“lisboa” is the safe word and whenever it’s called ruben immediately stops and gets worried about you and makes sure you’re okay.

T = Tickling | Do they like sensory play? What kind?

no, he doesn’t.

U = Undermined | How do they handle brats? Are they the brat?

ruben doesn’t like when you’re a brat so you don’t do it. he thrives off affirmation.

V = Vengeance | Tell us about their punishments - the ones they give or take.

ruben doesn’t like punishing his partner.

W = Whipping | Do they like impact play? What kinds?

yes, ruben loves to spank you and slap your face lightly before he spits in your mouth.

X = X-Tra | What’s another kinky fun fact about them?

ruben wants to try a bit of ass play but he’s worried about how you’d view him as a man.

Y = Yes, Sir | Do they identify with a title or role like Dom or Sir, or Slave or Kitten?

ruben enjoys being called “sir” he likes when you give him power in the bed.

Z = Zzz… | Would they ever participate in sleep play with their partner?

with your consent, yes.

#footballer smut #footballer x reader #luna answers🍄#ruben dias x reader #ruben dias #luna’s dirty thoughts 💭

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belit0 · 9 months

Note

What if Indra and Madara have a wife that really loves her kids, she also yells at him when he's been too mean and defends her kids with her life😭 I hope Indra doesn't throw hands😭💀

Noooo, Indra may be a terrible yandere, but he knows better than to be a woman-beating coward!🙏🙏🙏

I love all requests involving the Uchiha as fathers, please keep sending me them!! It's beautiful to see them in environments that don't involve war and destruction, and being fatherly love figures😭❣️

Indra

- He loves (Y/N) with all his little heart will allow, but getting involved with the way he handles the upbringing of his children is a big NO. He will use an iron fist to forge kids who know how to stand up for themselves if necessary, and if she has anything to say about it, they will fight. Papa Indra is a great and fearsome figure of respect to whom no argument is countered and orders are obeyed (for his children, (Y/N) fearlessly ignore this).

- His wife will be present at all training, and will try to reduce Otsutsuki's severity altogether. If she expected him to be gentle because it is about his own children, she is wrong. It will drive her crazy when she sees her little ones flying through the air because daddy is too tough, and she scolds him in front of them.

- Indra is deeply insulted by how (Y/N) tries to diminish his authority before the kids, and they engage in a quarrel that lasts for weeks. Eventually, they come to an agreement, where she doesn't mess with his ways, but he is a little less severe. When the infants turn 10, he can treat them as he pleases, but not until that age.

- He focuses on an infant-friendly regimen, which even for (Y/N) is still too demanding, and on many occasions he has to put up with her nagging and watching her drag the children away from him in her arms.

- She is so overprotective, her own kids are the ones who return with him to the training ground after escaping their mother's watchful eye, and ask him to continue with their activities. Indra smiles proudly and restrains himself, as he appreciates his sons also want to spend time with him.

- He's not the best father, but he tries.

Madara

- He can't be hard on them, he adores them so much he can't even scold them when they deserve it. In fact, Madara is the permissive father his children ask for everything first because they know he will say yes, afterwards going to confront their mother with daddy's confirmation in advance to argue their case.

- He refuses to be the one training them. He considers himself a very tough and pushy person with the workouts he prefers to give, and could never treat his little ones that way. He ends up asking Izuna to take over, and (Y/N) scolding the young Uchiha when he gets too hard on them.

- The few times he had to scold one of them for making a mess, he did it guiltily. In his children he sees the souls of those brothers he lost as a child, and he can't be mean to them. He lets them do whatever they want, and if Mom comes back to find a mess at home because Dad didn't set limits, Madara will be reprimanded along with his children as if they were all the same age.

- In one special situation, his children made a big disaster while (Y/N) was not at home. At that point he realized he should put his foot down because his children see him more as an accomplice than a figure of respect, and he goes a bit overboard with his scolding. His kids are slightly traumatized, and know not to push their luck when it comes to their father.

- He rarely yells at them, and beyond that particular time, he did so only one other time. In front of (Y/N), he berated his boys vehemently, and it was she who yelled at him at the time for being "too hard on my babies!" (as if she wasn't...). Madara chose to abide by the commander's orders and remain silent.

- Good father, with a lot of effort.

#madara uchiha x reader #uchiha madara x reader #madara x reader #indra otsutsuki x reader #otsutsuki indra x reader #indra x reader #madara uchiha #uchiha madara #madara #otsutsuki indra #indra otsutsuki #indra #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto imagines #uchiha clan #naruto x reader #naruto scenarios

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roosteraloha · 3 months

Text

infirmarian

jake seresin x reader

wc - approx 7.2k

warnings - angst, general discussion of sickness, description of vomit/throwing up, brief description of panic attacks.

disclaimer - ANY BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!! I also DO NOT give permission for any of my works to be copied, shared, compiled, translated or posted onto other sites!!

a/n - this is wrote itself. being chronically in pain sucks, sorry it took so long to get out, been the longest flare up of my life :(

reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated!!

A few days had passed since Jake had received any communication from you, you’d have your schedule rammed full of new work projects and meetings, not leaving much time for a social life, at least the kind that you longed for. This wasn’t something uncommon, Jake himself had a hectic day to day schedule, and the addition of your new work responsibilities was something that neither of you had enough to fully consider the amount of time that you’d have left to share with each other.

Fresh off an eight week deployment, Jake was eager to spend time with you however he could, swallowing down the bitter taste of disappointment that he came home to you being far busier than you’d let on in your limited communication. With only a few weeks left before you’d get back to your usual schedule, you had gotten to the point of longing for Jake’s company too. Eight weeks having been too long to not be able to hug him and snuggle up to him after another draining and exhausting day.

Jake had been home for close to two weeks when he started to see signs that you weren’t doing too well. You were overworking yourself again, and there were tell-tale signs that you were about to get sick. Something that you would never admit, choosing to deny the facts, even when you’re exhausted and tucked in bed with a fever.

Slipping his key into the lock, Jake frowns. The door is already unlocked. This normally wouldn’t be a cause for concern, but today, Jake hadn’t expected you to be home already. You were meant to be at work, at least that was what you had told him in between many incessant kisses this morning as Jake got himself ready. So he could have got confused, too distracted by the beauty he had in his bed, not that he would ever complain about your company.

Tossing his keys onto the hall table, Jake calls out to you. He has a small smile flickering on his lips, Jake could get used to this. It felt nice to have someone to come home too, it felt right. Wandering down the hall, Jake peers into the living room, face lighting up when he sees you curled up on the couch, typing away on your laptop.

Coming up behind you, he places a soft kiss on the top of your head. You had a rule about Jake coming home after flying, he would reek of jet fuel, and while that had slowly become a comforting part of your life, mainly because it reminded you of him, it was a smell that permeated fabrics. There was one incident with a throw blanket, luckily one you didn’t like, Jake had used it one day after a particularly tough day in training, only for you to pick up the next day and the smell was so strong, it may as well have been a rag for him to use on preflight checks. Weeks had passed and no matter how many times you washed it, the smell remained. Now, it was that Jake would shower before leaving base and then change as soon as he got home.

Quickly changing into some sweatpants, Jake joins on the couch, legs outstretched onto the sectional, an arm loosely thrown around your shoulders to pull you into him. Jake eyebrows furrow when he makes contact with your skin. You normally ran cold, hence the otherwise insane amount of blankets and oversized hoodies that you owned, but your skin was burning under Jake’s touch.

He shifts to get a better look at you, your cheeks are flushed, a light sheen on your forehead, your hair is knotty. All signs that something isn’t right. Jake quickly mentally ran through any important dates in your relationship, then running through any mentions of tensions or meetings at work when he failed to recall missing anything. Pressing his palm to your forehead, Jake’s concern grows, you’re overheated, not quite a fever, probably just dehydrated, which was especially likely considering the fact that you probably hadn’t moved around much since you got up and settled on the couch to work.

You still hadn’t actually looked over at Jake since he got home, too invested in furiously typing away, filling in countless mindless admin forms that your coworkers were too lazy to do. The only acknowledgment that you had given to Jake, was a distracted hum when he asked about your day. To be perfectly honest, you were in a work focused daze. These forms needed to be done by the fast approaching deadline, and not a single one of your coworkers had bothered to even try to follow the new formatting, leaving you to pick up the slack. Not like you already had your plate full with the rest of your role.

Jake leans against the kitchen counter thoughtfully, observing you work in your stressed state. It was obvious that you were overworking yourself, more than usual, and quite frankly, more than your coworkers and managers would acknowledge.

After mentally processing through the potential options to help you, Jake settled on what he is hoping will work. If not, he’d have to pull out more drastic measures, which he’d strongly prefer not to have to do. You’d hate him for it, and honestly, he’s hate himself for letting you get so bad in the first place.

Pushing himself off the counter, Jake approaches you, albeit a bit cautiously, he wasn’t entirely sure how you’d react. You almost seem paler than before, and you’re sniffling intermittently, eyes bloodshot and dry from staring at your computer screen for way too long.

"Sweetheart, please stop. You've done enough work, you need to rest." Jake’s low and quiet tone cuts through your daze, your eyes flickering over to him for the first time since he got home. Sighing in relief, Jake smiles softly at you, which falters when he realises that you’re not exactly looking at him, as much as looking in his direction. But that alone was progress and Jake could work with that.

Gently reaching out, Jake pulls your laptop away from your lap, saving your work quickly, then turning it off and placing it closed on the wooden coffee table. This grabs your attention, eyes darting straight to meet Jake’s concerned gaze. You open your mouth to protest but his stern look has any complaints dying on your tongue. Blinking up at him, it takes you a few moments to realise that Jake had taken your work away, the panic and stress soon taking over your features.

You scramble helplessly towards your laptop, Jake’s grip around your waist pinning you to his side. A frustrated cry rips from your throat, clawing at Jake’s arm, begging him to let you go. “No! No, no, no, no. JAKE NO! I need to finish my work!” Your voice comes out weak and wracked with emotion, mainly frustration and hurt that Jake wasn’t letting you finish what you’d started.

Jake’s response is to curl his arm tighter around you, his other hand coming up to caress the side of your face soothingly. He mummers quietly in your ear, hoping to help calm you down before you got yourself into a worse state, “Darlin’. Darlin’, look at me. You need to rest, trust me.”

There’s a moment where all you can hear is the breathing of you both, processing Jake’s gentle coos. A soft whine escapes your lips, “But…”

Jake’s grip loosens a fraction as he shifts to get a proper look at your face, fixing you with a firm stare, “Stop complaining, sweetheart.”

Huffing, you instantly relax in his hold, snuggling back into his chest, burying your head in the crook of his neck when he pulls you close. Finally having gotten through to you, all the tension leaves Jake’s body. While he still had a long way to go with you, to try and get you to understand it was okay to take breaks, that working yourself until you burn out is no way to go through life.

The sheer exhaustion of the stress you’d been under the past few weeks was definitely catching up to you. Jake kept a soothing touch on the back of your head, holding you close to his chest, a quick look down at you told him you needed this rest more than he initially realised. You could barely keep your eyes open for more than a few seconds at a time, yawning softly at regular intervals, snuggling closer to him every time.

Feeling content with you settled so comfortably on his chest, Jake exhaled deeply, leaning his head back against the sofa. Closing his eyes, Jake’s breath evens out, yes he had a long way to go to get you to rest properly, but this with you looking so peaceful laying on him, well, Jake could get used to this.

Dinner was takeout, Jake being too tired himself to cook and secretly didn’t want to disturb your sleep while he attempted an old Seresin family recipe. Settling on your favourite, Jake only moved to wake you after the food arrived and he’d dished out the portions.

You were still asleep when Jake came back, still curled up on the couch under a fluffy blanket, wearing an old sweatshirt of his. A small smile flickered across his lips, as Jake’s heart swooned at seeing you so peaceful and wearing his clothes, something you’d initially been too insecure to try.

His smile was short lived, you’d barely roused from your slumber while Jake was busy in the kitchen, or while he was doing odd jobs around the house while waiting for the food to be delivered. There were more and more red flags to Jake that there was something more serious going on with you, than simply being overworked.

A small frown of concern lingered on his face when you barely responded when he shook you gently to try and get you to eat something. Then, when you eventually woke fully, you declined the food, pushing the dishes away, choosing to move away from him, curling the opposite direction instead.

Jake, drawing this up to your over-exhaustion for now, just took your plate away, carefully portioning the food into some tupperware, hopeful that you’d be hungry later. Turning back to the couch, he frowns again, you still remained curled tightly away from him.

Displeased and slightly frustrated with your decision, Jake returns to your side, shaking you awake, despite your groans in protest. When you finally open your eyes, the harsh glare you send his way has Jake internally wincing. He hated to see you like this, but deep down he knew this was the only way to get through to you.

“Darlin’…”

He trails off, unsure of what else to say to you. His brows pull in together, forming a deeper frown. You weren’t okay, he just needed you to admit it. Glancing down at your clenched hands above the blanket, he takes note of the slight tremble of your hands, eyes darting up to your face, searching your eyes for any answers.

There’s a glistening to your eyes that wasn’t there before when you finally make eye contact with Jake. You felt the panic building, like an icy hand gripping your chest tightly. Your mind running a million miles a second, unable to pinpoint a single cohesive thought. Tears streaming down your face, gasping to catch your breath. Reaching out a shaky hand, you try and catch Jake’s wrist, desperate for any direct contact with him, seeking his comfort any way you could.

Jake is immediately by your side, pulling you close to his side, “It’s okay sweetheart. You’re okay darlin’.” Your teary eyes focus on his worry stricken face, Jake was blindsided but your sudden emotional reaction, he knew something was wrong, you’d been withdrawn, but he hadn’t expected you to be so quick to break down the minute he pressed you for answers. “Darlin’. What’s going on?”

You shrug, looking away from him, not really knowing why you feel the way you do. Jake sighs heavily, sometimes he knows you better than you knew yourself, “It's okay, you don’t have to tell me now. Just breathe, nice and slowly, okay?” You hum softly, nodding gently against his chest, “I promise you, you don’t have to hide this stuff from me. I’m always gonna be here for you darlin’.”

Smiling softly down at you, Jake presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, pulling you closer to his side, “Not that I don’t love being used as your personal heated pillow darlin’, but I think we’d both be far more comfortable in bed.” You giggle softly, but agree, Jake was a comfortable pillow of lean muscle, but your bed was so soft and comfortable, and with Jake there to hold you close, you couldn’t think of anything better.

“You’re adorable when you’re so sleepy darlin’.” Jake croons softly, brushing loose strands of your hair back behind your ear tenderly. You shrug playfully, with mock offence at his words, “It’s not my fault that you’re so comfortable to lay on Jake!”

Jake tries and fails to keep a straight face, soon joining you in soft laughter, shaking his head at your antics. He much preferred you to be this happier version of yourself than the one that had a panic attack on the sofa after a stressful work week.

You whine wearily when Jake leads you towards the adjoining bathroom rather than getting straight into bed, which you’d much prefer. The sheer exhaustion from the past few weeks had finally caught up to you, you couldn’t help but yawn as Jake lifted you to sit up on the counter, your usual place when you’d get ready together, whether the pair of you were getting ready for the day, or just going to bed.

You huff heavily, annoyed that Jake seems to be taking his sweet time getting around to whatever he was doing, moving to the edge of the counter, ready to just jump down and head to bed yourself. “We’re almost done, love. Just stay a little bit longer.” Jake’s soothing tone, paired with the calming circles he was gently rubbing on your knee, has you shuffling back on the counter, resting your head back tiredly against the cold mirror.

You must’ve started to doze off, as the next thing you know, Jake is stirring you gently, a soft squeeze on your shoulder, and a gentle touch on your cheek. You groan, eyes flickering shut again quickly at the harsh light in the bathroom. “Can we go to bed now?” Your soft whines have Jake chuckling as he moves to pick you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest, smiling contently to himself when you bury your face in his neck, hiding from the bright lights.

“You’re so cute when you’re so tired.” Jake teases as he places you gently onto the bed, wrapping the blanket and sheets around you, before climbing in next to you and doing the same. He hums thoughtfully as he feels you snuggle closely up to his side, tangling your ice cold feet with his own. You prop your chin up on his shoulder, watching your boyfriend who was deep in thought.

“Jake…” Your voice is a quiet whisper, not wanting to startle him from his thoughts, knowing how he could react when startled by others in the past. You only continue when he hums softly in acknowledgement, looking down at you, a soft smile appearing on his face when he takes in your concerned expression. Jake didn’t need you to continue, he could read you like a book on most occasions, especially when you were this sleepy and worn out.

He shakes his head calmly, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead when your concerned frown doesn’t fade. “I promise you that I’m okay darlin’. I’d tell you if I wasn’t, you know I would.” Pursing your lips, you study his face carefully, for any signs that he wasn’t being one hundred percent honest with you about this. Finding no obvious signs of dishonesty, you nod once, kissing his cheek softly and nestling your head back on his chest, inhaling his comforting scent deeply, sighing softly with content.

You feel Jake take a few deep breaths, then tighten his arm around your body, holding you securely against his own. It was something he’d started doing very early on in your relationship, and something the both of you had grown to love and crave whenever you cuddled together. The intimacy of being so close to each other was something you hadn’t known you’d love so much, but having Jake so close to you, him holding you close, well that something you would never tire of. And for Jake, he would forever be grateful to be able to go to sleep holding the love of his life, and her still be there in the same position, tucked comfortably into his side, the next morning. No matter how much the pair of you moved around in the night, he still got to wake with you by his side, and now, Jake couldn’t see himself spending his life any differently.

Waking up the next day, your throat is scratchy, eyes burning and bloodshot. Groaning, you snooze your blaring alarm, sending a quick text of ‘Hey Jake, I’m not feeling too great, can we push date night?’, to your boyfriend. While technically you lived together, Jake would often spend evenings at his best friend Javy’s house, it was closer to base and helped him to unwind from a stressful workday with someone who understood the ins and outs of the job. You didn’t take any offence to this, as Jake had been expecting you too, it was a way for Jake to unwind, and honestly, it was probably why your relationship was so healthy. Jake got the time to process his feelings, to then be able to get home to you and express them in a healthy manner. You would always support Jake’s out of work time with his squadron, it was almost like a second family, something you all desperately needed after the uranium mission.

It wasn’t uncommon to go to bed alone, especially if Jake had been having a stressful run at work, only to wake with a strong arm wrapped carefully around you, holding you close to his chest, your head resting on him like a pillow. You admired the relationship that Jake and Javy shared, the pair had been through a lot in such a short time, and where most people would have drifted apart, it only solidified their need for each other, feeling and acting more and more like brothers with each day they spent together. But it was when Jake came home to you acting off, that his worries couldn’t be soothed by his wingman. You were everything that Jake had ever dreamed of, and more if he was being honest, and when you acted not like yourself, it set alarm bells ringing for Jake. He had just found you, and in no world was he ready to lose you, especially not so soon.

Jake had been preoccupied all day, you had been withdrawn all evening, and slept through your first alarm, the one you routinely set so you could kiss Jake goodbye. It was something that Jake had grown to love, a simple addition to his morning routine, something he looked forward to each time he awoke to his alarm, getting to kiss you before he left always put him in a better mood, something that his fellow squad members had noticed, and perhaps teased him for.

Javy was the one who approached Jake about his sullen mood, there had been plenty of opportunities for Jake to tease and antagonise the others, yet the absence of Jake’s cocky tone over the radio was concerning to all. Jake’s demeanour had been so off that you woke to a string of concerned texts from Javy, asking if you were okay, if Jake and his family were alright, and the last, rather frantic message demanding to know if you’d broken up with him. If you didn’t feel as bad as you did, you would be texting Javy back with just as much concern for your boyfriend.

You busied yourself with as much work as you could while at home, cleaning, laundry, mindless admin for your job. The occasional tickle of a cough in the back of your throat, an unnecessary reminder that you were unwell. All you’d wanted to do since Jake got back from his deployment was to spend as much quality time together as physically possible, and being sick wasn’t in your plan.

Truthfully thinking, it was probably a bug that Jake had brought back with him. Unfortunately for you, Jake had an absurdly strong immune system, he rarely was ill, often just carrying the bug home to you, which consequently caused you to be unwell. You had a decently strong immune system, but the intensity of your symptoms often left you bedridden with a fever for days.

Gently tucking a strand of loose hair from your messy sleep hair, Jake finally voices his concerns, “Don’t even think about going to work today.” It takes you a few long moments to process Jake’s words, to which you immediately start to protest, mumbling on and on about how you had to work, denying that you weren’t feeling your best.

Furrowing his brows, Jake is again growing more and more concerned about you. Deciding with a different tactic, Jake reaches out to slowly halt you buttoning up your work uniform, “Would you rather go to work, and suffer all day, because you obviously don’t feel well, or stay in bed and get cuddles and forehead kisses and watch movies with me?”

The halting of your weak movements and silence has Jake relaxing, he knew you well enough to know that you were giving in, thinking over the two scenarios. You never could get enough cuddles and kisses from Jake. Never.

Turning slowly towards him, you look sheepishly up at Jake, hands tugging at your uniform, a desperate attempt to get out of the restrictive and stiff material and back into Jake’s sweatshirt. A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips, on the rare occasion you did get sick, you were so needy, having to have Jake nearby at all times as a comforting presence.

Helping you out of your uniform, Jake carefully pulls his sweater back over your head, kissing the crown of your head lovingly. A soft whine slips through your lips, the sudden movements making your head spin, fingers digging into Jake’s arms, desperate for something to ground you.

“Get back in bed. Now. You don’t need to be up and about right now. You need to rest darlin’.” Too lightheaded to even attempt to argue, you allow Jake to gently manhandle you back into bed, tucking your comforter up to your shoulders, making sure your pillows were fluffed and positioned just right, as to prevent any cricks in your neck.

Huffing, as you shift around, trying to get comfortable with all your aches and pains, you try to fight against Jake’s fussing, but soon giving up, too exhausted from just trying to get ready for work. You blink tiredly up at him, eyes dry and bloodshot, “You don’t have to stay and do this Jake. I’ll be okay.” You sit up slightly, pushing yourself against the pillows, “Anyways, you have training. You shouldn’t be here because I’ll get you sick.”

Jake doesn’t dignify your complaining with a verbal response, raising one eyebrow at you, keeping his stare strong and bordering on the edge of harshness. A stare which soon had you shifting uncomfortably under his gaze, shuffling back down in the bed, giving him what you hoped was an equally annoyed stare, but the way Jake’s shoulders shook, told you that it didn’t appear as you’d hoped.

Pouting, crossing your arms across your chest, you huff up at Jake, frustration creeping in as the sickness starts to fully take its toll on you. He sighs heavily, moving closer to your side, to which you continually avoid his gaze, growing more and more frustrated with Jake’s fussing, no matter how much you’d secretly crave, but would never outright admit.

Jake was never one to give in, especially where you were concerned. To his advantage, the two of you act eerily similar when you weren’t feeling your best, a lot of stubbornness and pushing the other away. He switched tactics, continuing to put away all your work clothes and tidying the room up, all the while keeping a close eye on you in case things got worse.

You soon grew tired of Jake’s approach, frustrated that you knew why he was doing what he was, and hating how effectively it’s working. Whining softly, you reach out for him, to which Jake finishes putting away your clothes and slowly moves back to your side.

A wave of nausea overcomes you as you stir from a much needed nap. Screwing your eyes tightly, you pray that the unpleasant feeling will pass, breathing shakily.

Scrambling off the bed, your feet momentarily tangling in the sheets in your haste, you dart into the bathroom, holding your breath and locking the door behind you. There were just some things you’d rather not have the love of your life see. Being this violently unwell was one of them.

There had been countless times when you’d tended to Jake when he was in your position, but the way you’d grown up often meant you’d have to take care of yourself. Even with someone as selfless as Jake, you struggled with the actual complexities of opening up and letting someone take over that caretaker role, the one you’d spent years perfecting for yourself.

The burn in the back of your throat is actually welcomed, the promise of feeling even a little better after throwing up, lingering in the back of your mind. There’s a soft knock on the door, then, a more concerned rattle of the door handle when you fail to reply, too busy trying to catch your breath in between heaves.

Your hair is pulled gently back from your face and neck, soothing fingers rubbing soft circles across the base of your skull. Jake. He ties your hair loosely into a very messy bun, the one he’s seen you do effortlessly, yet his not quite measuring up to the elegant flair yours did. Not that it mattered to you. Jake’s insistence to be a constant presence by your side was all you could dream for.

A few weaker dry heaves later, Jake is leaning away, reaching up to the sink, dampening a soft face cloth and tenderly wiping your face, then turning to grab a clean towel, dabbing your face dry as gently as he could. Your shaking fingers cling feebly to the cold tiles, a desperate plea for the nausea to wane.

A soft whimper of his name had Jake shushing you gently, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead, “You’re going to feel so much better after this, the worst part is over darlin’.” Another soft whimpery sigh is his reply, too drained by this sickness to form any verbal response. The back of his hand on your clammy forehead told him your fever still wasn’t improving, despite your previous insistence that you were ‘fine’.

Sighing deeply, Jake braces himself, pulling himself to stand and bringing you up gently with him, letting you rest heavily against the counter, swaying slightly with each shuddering breath. His large palms cup your face, his worried green eyes searching yours for any sign that you could actually understand him.

“Darlin’…” He trails off as your eyes shift to meet his concerned gaze, “I know you’re gonna hate me for this, but I- We have to get that fever down. You need to shower.” An instant feeble protest from you comes in whines and shifting hesitantly away from him, a move which Jake preempts, catching your arm in gentle hold, just enough is this state to keep you in place. His soothing tone washes over you, eyes flickering closed and nodding cautiously at his next words, “I promise we will get you all cleaned up and feeling so much better when we’re done. I promise you darlin’.”

The spray of the shower is a shock to your clammy skin, much colder than you normally preferred, one that has you hugging yourself closely to Jake’s body, both for warmth and stability.

“I know you hate being sick, but you need to let me care for you. Let me take care of you, okay?”

Instead of the protests Jake is anticipating, he’s met with a weak nod, and your body going more lax under his touch, letting him manhandle you as he saw fit, something you usually fought against with every scrap of energy you could. Now even more concerned with your health, Jake moves you both fully under the water, allowing the spray to cascade down your back and freshen you up.

You blink heavily, in a daze, as Jake methodically dries your body, applies your body lotion, and towel dries your hair, before blow drying it enough for you to sleep comfortably with. Jake’s soft mummerings of soothing praises and reassurances never cease, not as he helps you get dressed, or as he cleans up the bathroom as you sit and watch him from the bathroom counter.

Reaching a hand out to him, Jake ceases his tidying, by your side in one stride, cupping your face gently, peppering kisses across your face. An act which always elicits a soft giggle from you, no matter how you feel. A soft smile on his lips mirrors your own, you struggle to let Jake in enough to let him help you fully, but this was a fight he’d won, one that you willingly let him help you with. That alone was a major step forward in your relationship together.

Guiding you back to bed, Jake is cautious with each movement, all too familiar with how a sudden movement could cause another flare up of nausea. A soft pout is on your lips as he settles next to you, a knowing, sympathetic smile on his.

“I feel so gross and disgusting. I could’ve handled that myself. You didn’t have to see me so disgusting.”

A soft shake of his head, and Jake is lowering his head to meet your gaze, gently guiding your face up to try and catch your eye line.

“Shush, you aren’t disgusting at all sweetheart, it’s only natural.” When you refuse to meet his gaze he continues, “And you’ve seen me in way worse states than that. From drinking too much with Coyote to nightmares after deployments, you’re always there for me.” You finally flick your eyes to his glistening green ones, “Let me take care of you darlin’.”

Swallowing thickly, blinking back stinging tears, you nod sharply, emotions bubbling up with his loving words. Jake wasn’t one to open up fully either, you guess that’s why you work so well together. A pair of people too accustomed to looking after themselves, to observing the most minor changes in their partner, to now allowing someone else to help them.

You shift closer to Jake, snuggling into his side, resting your head on his shoulder, “Thank you. I know I’m stubborn when I’m sick, but thank you for always being here to look after me.” A curt nod, and Jake is pulling you impossibly closer to his side.

“You’re welcome. You don’t have to thank me for looking after you. Ever. But you’re welcome darlin’.”

You drop the eye contact, shy, but nodding in understanding. This is how it’ll always be with the pair of you, you’ll always look after each other, no matter how much the other tries to fight the help. You’d always be there to support each other.

The pair of you stay like that for a while, in your feverish state, you’re unsure of how much time passes. All that matters is that Jake is by your side. Jake eventually pulls away from you slightly, shushing your complaints before you can even voice them.

“I’m just going to grab you something to eat. Just something plain. It’ll settle your stomach enough so you can get some medicine and hopefully some proper sleep.”

Scrunching your nose up in displeasure of this plan, you shake your head slowly, “No way am I even thinking about eating something right now Jake! My throat hurts so badly- And no to that disgusting medicine you’re gonna try to give me.”

A smirk twitches on Jake’s lips, you knew him too well, and vice versa. With a soft kiss to the crown of your head, Jake shifts away from you, tucking you back in bed properly. He pauses momentarily in the doorway, and looks back at you with a serious look on his face.

“If I see or hear you leave that bed, even once, I’m going to physically manhandle you back into it.”

Knowing full well that Jake is dead serious on his threat, you nod once and give him a mock salute, a small signal to him that you’re already beginning to feel more like yourself. He returns your salute with his own smirking, then he makes his way downstairs to grab you some saltine crackers and some water, along with a few medications to help you fight this illness.

The glare you send in Jake’s direction when he returns, does not have the desired effect. Instead of discouraging him to try and get you to cooperate with the food and medicines, all it does is make him chuckle as he resumes his position by your side, with a playful nudge.

“Jake…” You whined in protest when he offered you the open packet of crackers, a small detail not gone unnoticed by you, “I’m really not hungry right now. I just wanna sleep.”

Shrugging, Jake took a cracker for himself, crunching away at your side. You frown, those crackers were your crackers, and now your boyfriend, with a seemingly endless appetite, was tucking in to your snack. Huffing indignantly, you snatch the packet from his grasp, shifting to face away from him, slowly nibbling away at one.

Behind you, Jake has a content smile playing on his lips. His tactic of eating your food worked, again. He knew you’d know that’s what was happening, hence why you turned away from him. Jake was content enough to know that you were starting to feel better, it was often baby steps when you were this unwell. This was a big step in the right direction.

After nibbling your way through half the packet, you chance a glance over at Jake, who is carefully watching you and presses a kiss to your temple, “There you go darlin’. Do you think you could drink some water? It’ll make you feel a bit better.” Jake dips his head to catch your gaze, when you avoid eye contact, a move you pulled when you really didn’t want to do something he asked of you.

Focusing back on his hopeful gaze, you blink cautiously at him, unsure if your body could handle any more. While the strong wave of nausea had settled, it still lingered if you thought too hard about eating or drinking anything.

His gentle nudge drew you out of your overthinking, eyes flickering down to the glass in his outstretched hand. The familiar burning sensation of tears filling your eyes returns, which has Jake on high alert, immediately placing the glass down, out of your sight, concern and worry filling his own.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay darlin’, what’s wrong?” His soothing tone is laced with poorly hidden panic at your emotional state. Jake hated to see you cry, especially when it was something out of his control that caused it, something he couldn’t fix. “Hey, look at me sweetheart. It’s okay, just please try and drink a little, for me?”

Wrapping your arms tightly around him, you cry softly into his chest, shaking your head gently. His hand carefully cradles the back of your head as he holds you tightly to him. Your voice is weak and cracks with emotion, “Jake… I really don’t think I can. It’s just-.” You cut yourself off and look up at him, resting your chin on his chest, “You always take such good care of me. No one has ever done that before.” Jake nods in understanding, he already knew that, it just adds to his confusion as to why you’re suddenly crying over him offering you a glass of water. “You made sure it was iced water, and you got me a straw because you know how much I don’t want to drink it. Jake, you’re so sweet and thoughtful, and I wish I wasn’t so sick because I just want to kiss you so badly.”

Jake nods once more, pulling you back close to his chest, finally understanding that he hadn’t done something wrong and crying just happened to be your go-to emotion when you didn’t feel well. He chuckles softly and presses multiple kisses to the top of your head, “No kisses until you’re better darlin’. You know the rules.” He’s sorely tempted to kiss away the pout that forms on your lips, he just knows that one sick person in the household was enough. It wouldn’t help either of you, if you had to call Javy to bring you food and medicine. Well, it'd be fun for you, Jake on the other hand would never hear the end of it from his squadron.

Offering you the glass again, Jake cradles the back of your neck as you take slow sips, not wanting you to choke or spill any. You don’t miss the way he shifts slightly to reach for the medicine bottle either. Narrowing your eyes at him, you pout, hoping that by some miracle he’ll give in, “I’m not having that stuff again Jake. It tastes gross. In no world does lemon taste like that.”

Jake chuckles softly, running a soothing hand back and forth over your back, fingers occasionally lightly scratching your scalp. “You’ve gotta try some of this, even just a little bit. I promise it’s not that bad darlin’, just try it.” Shaking your head vehemently, you scoot as far as you can to the edge of the mattress, until you’re perched precariously.

Jake reaches an arm out, curling his fingers around your shoulders and pulling you back towards him, your back pinned against his chest. Knowing you’re stuck now, you give in, going limp in his hold and leaning your head back on his shoulder.

He kisses your forehead softly, “Just try. For me?” He brings the small medicine cup up to your lips, as your eyes narrow at him. He gives you his signature shrug and smirk, you mock him as best could which pulls a chuckle from him. Reluctantly, you swallow the foul tasting syrup, immediately reaching for the water that Jake already had in his grasp. You gulp hurriedly, trying in vain to wash away the lingering taste, your glare returns, “If I didn’t love you so much, I’d hate you right now.”

He nudges you playfully, “What? I got you to take it. Did you seriously think the taste would’ve changed after a few months?” Huffing, you playfully shove him back, then when his laughter bubbles up again, you quickly press a kiss to his shoulder.

“I should’ve known better, but it said ‘new and improved recipe’! And you! You looked so disappointed that I wasn’t gonna take it, and you know I can’t say no to you when you look like that!” Jake has the audacity to do his smirk-shrug combo again, which has you laughing weakly along with him.

He swings his arm loosely around your shoulders, tucking you into his side. Finding Jake to be his usual personal body heater, you snuggle impossibly closer to him, head resting on his chest, listening to the soothing sounds of his heartbeat. Your poorly disguised yawn does not go missed by Jake, who’s now concerned that you probably haven’t slept properly in days, “Get some sleep, you need rest darlin’.”

Shaking your head vehemently, you curl around him, burying your head into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply, whining when he tries to pull away so he could look at your face. “I don’t wanna sleep Jake.” You whine into his neck, “I just got you back, I don’t wanna lose any more time with you than I have too.”

Jake exhales slowly, it’s not the first time you’ve expressed this when he comes back from an extended deployment. Not that he particularly minded you being so invested in spending quality time together, it’s just this time with you being so unwell, you needed rest over anything else right now.

“Just go to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up.” There’s one more indignant huff from you, before a bigger yawn escapes you, he nudges you gently, kissing your forehead lovingly, “C’mon sweetheart, you know you’ll feel better for it.” When you peek a look at him, he can see the fear on your face. You’re scared he won’t be there when you wake you, that this was all a dream and he was still on deployment, or worse. He could see it so clearly now, the pain and deep-rooted fear in your glossy eyes. He had never seen you so fearful, it made his heart clench painfully.

“Darlin’. I promise you that I’ll be here when you wake up. I won’t leave your side. I promise.”

His smile is soft and for the first time since he got home, he feels relaxed knowing that you’re not suffering alone anymore. It occurred to him, more frequently the longer your relationship continued, that he never wanted you to be alone like that again, that he’d do anything to ensure you were looked after for the rest of your life. Well, more like the rest of his life, because he couldn’t see himself now without you. Jake needed you in his life, and it was clear now that you are going to spend the rest of your lives together.

He presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you doze lightly on his shoulder, eyes flickering momentarily over to his dresser where he’d placed the box a few weeks earlier. Resting his head against yours, he takes a moment to rest his eyes while he thinks over what the rest of his life was going to look like.

He was going to ask you to marry him soon.

He was going to marry you.

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