prince of tennis one shots 💘

Atobe Keigo x Reader - Mistakes

You never expected to get into Hyotei, let alone on a full scholarship. The uniforms were tailored, the hallways practically sparkled, and the students... well, most of them didn't even have to try to look like royalty.

Especially Atobe Keigo.

"Your bag, (L/N). You dropped your pen again," he said one morning, voice smooth like velvet and just as smug. He handed it to you between two perfectly gloved fingers.

You took it with a tight smile. "Thanks, Your Highness. I didn't realize I was in the presence of such grace."

Atobe chuckled, clearly not catching the sarcasm—or worse, ignoring it. "Naturally."

That was the problem. Atobe always noticed you. You were the top of your class, even beating him in a few subjects, and you never swooned over him like everyone else. Maybe that's what made you interesting to him.

But lately? He had gotten too comfortable.

You'd been dating for two months—though "dating" might be a stretch. He brought you tea in the clubroom and bragged about you in passing, like you were a trophy, not his girlfriend.

And you were done being taken for granted.

Which is why you leaned just a little closer to Ootori during lunch. "Wow, Choutarou-kun, you're so tall," you said sweetly, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Do you always help the underclassmen with their serves like that?"

Ootori smiled, ever polite. "Ah, it's nothing really. Just part of being on the team."

You giggled. "So modest."

From the other end of the table, you felt it—his gaze. Sharp, narrowed, and burning holes into the side of your head.

Mission accomplished.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days, you were the most popular girl at Hyotei. Shishido offered to walk you to class. Gakuto invited you to his acrobatics practice. Even Jirou blinked himself awake long enough to compliment your skirt.

And Atobe?

Cold. Distant. Watching.

Until—

"(L/N). We need to talk." His tone was clipped as he cornered you in the library, one hand on the bookshelf beside your head. "You've been awfully friendly with my team."

You arched a brow. "Oh, I didn't realize you noticed. You've been too busy announcing how perfect you are to even remember you have a girlfriend."

"I haven't forgotten," he said tightly. "You're mine."

You scoffed. "Funny, you treat me like an accessory."

Atobe stiffened. "That's not true."

"Oh? Then why do you only pay attention to me when someone else does?" You crossed your arms, refusing to look away. "You don't compliment me, you barely spend time with me, and you never ask how I feel. I'm not here just to stand next to you and make you look good."

The silence stretched.

"...You're right." His voice was quiet now, his ego dented, maybe for the first time in his life. "I... didn't realize."

You blinked, caught off guard. "Wait... you're admitting it?"

"I'm not so blind as to ignore my own mistakes," Atobe said, finally meeting your eyes. His usual smugness was gone—replaced with something softer, more sincere. "I was proud to have you, but I didn't appreciate you. I thought... you'd always just be there."

You bit your lip.

"I didn't flirt with them to be cruel," you said quietly. "I just wanted to matter to you. Like, really matter."

"You do." He stepped closer, lifting a hand to brush your cheek with surprising gentleness. "You're the only one who doesn't treat me like I'm untouchable. You challenge me. You see me."

Your heart skipped a beat.

"...Well, someone had to bring you back to Earth," you muttered.

A slow smile curled on his lips. "Then let me stay grounded with you."

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks were flushed. "That was corny."

"And yet, effective." His fingers laced with yours. "Let me make it up to you. A proper date. No entourage. Just us."

You stared at him, lips twitching. "I get to pick where."

He groaned. "Even if it's somewhere commoners eat?"

"Especially then."

He gave an exaggerated sigh, then leaned down, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. "Fine. But only because it's you."

You smiled, squeezing his hand.

For once, Atobe Keigo didn't need to put on a show.

Because this time, he meant it.

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