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zoeysdamn · 2 years ago

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Bark, Bite and Break Bones - Tyler Galpin x Van Helsing!reader | Part.8

Summary: It’s time for you to face the decision of the school board – what will this change for Tyler and you? There’s also a conversation the both of you can’t dodge anymore. The walls of the infirmary will definitely witness a turning moment.

Warnings: swearing, angst, smut (characters are between 17 and 18), mention of child neglect (minor)

A/N: Okay I’m sO sorry this chapter came out so late, it’s been a chaotic few weeks (apartement hunting, beginning a new job, moving to another town etc etc. And everything’s not completely settled yet!). Anyway I hope you’ll enjoy this part!

[Masterlist] [Prologue] [Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3] [Part.4] [Part.5] [Part.6] [Part.7]

The following morning, you woke up feeling like you had been hit by a truck. The mere action of opening your eyes ripped a groan out of you. If only the mattress could swallow you all instead of getting up, it would be easier. However, school had no tolerance for your sorry little feelings and you got up very reluctantly. And to think you just stopped an armed attack the day before, you could at least have a day off.

The tiredness weighting in your limbs was so numbing you didn’t even pester against the horrendous Nevermore uniform. After you got dressed you went to the dining hall without a word for breakfast. A whole barrel of coffee, that’s what you needed.

Not completely awake yet, you didn’t notice the whispers in your trail as you entered the dining hall. Force of habit, you guessed. If you had listened to them, you’d notice all of the students whispering among themselves about yesterday's attack. It was only when you were halfway through your first coffee cup and a blonde tornado tackled you, that reality literally crashed into you.

“Y/N!!�� screamed Enid, “Oh my god, are you okay?! We heard about what happened yesterday, how are you holding up?”

You blinked slowly at the blonde werewolf, registering slowly all of her anxious rambling. “I’m…fine,” you articulated, noticing equally anxious Ajax, Xavier and even Wednesday standing behind her – the “we” she mentioned, surely. “I’m fine,” you repeated, “I got out of it without too much damage. But uh,” you cleared your throat dryly, “why are you asking?”

The bluntness of your question took them off guard. Xavier and Ajax exchanged surprised glances, a hurtful expression draped over Enid’s features, and even Wednesday frowned in disbelief. None of them had expected you to react that coldly to their worries. Sure, you weren’t the best friends in the universe but…your harshness still surprised them.

“Because…because we’re worried, that’s why,” tried Ajax nervously, looking at his comrades who nodded their heads.

“But why?” you frowned, a bit lost.

It wasn’t something you controlled or even understood, really. Tyler had been an isolated case, the only person it had felt natural to open up to. Maybe Enid and the others were sincere, but the habit of having every outcast being wary of you was hard to break. The defensive position would always sprung up first. It was a foreign concept to you that was one of their concerns.

“Well, because we’re kind of friends,” said Enid shyly, a glint of hope in her eyes, “right?”

The way you blinked silently only deepened the awkwardness of the moment. Wednesday scoffed, “As far as my knowledge about human interactions goes, I was under the impression that the return of friendly feelings after such a statement was a socially acceptable answer.”

All of the others nodded discreetly in agreement. And you nervously fidgeted with your cup of coffee at the realization of how hurt they were, casting your eyes down. “I’m a bit awkward about all of this I think.”

Ajax was the first to chuckle, “Yeah…yeah you are. I’m sorry,” he said defensively to his friends who all looked at him with wide eyes, “but it’s so weird to see Y/N Van Helsing being actually cringy about something.”

A light laugh slipped from your lips at his words, “Cringy, that’s right. I’m socially awkward, can’t help that.” You licked your lips nervously and looked up to the group, “I’m sorry for being such a bitch sometimes.”

“No, no it’s nothing!” assured Enid quickly.

“The venom is pleasant,” said Wednesday at the same time.

Everyone looked at the brunette, and then burst into laughter one by one. It effectively eased the tension a little. Except for Ajax with whom you were getting along just fine, you had never expected to be friends with any of those students. At your arrival in Nevermore, you had thought it would be a harsh year, that you would go through with gritted teeth and defensive sarcasm. The harsh part wasn’t untrue; but deep down, seeing this small group laughing and being genuinely concerned about you, just proved to you how wrong you had been about the second part.

“What even happened?” asked Enid again after a moment, sitting next to you and taking your hands in hers – and you didn’t even protest. “We heard there had been armed guys and- and that many people were there too. And we heard Tyler got shot??”

“Did they aim for his head,” asked Wednesday.

“Only sedated, don’t worry,” you reassured Enid, giving her a small smile in reassurance but you could see all of them frown – Wednesday in deception, no doubt. That made you shift uncomfortably and you lowered your voice, “He transformed under the pressure,” you whispered, “but no one had been hurt by his fault, I swear.”

“But…I thought all the mercenaries were dead?” quipped Xavier. As an answer, you only held his gaze; and you could gradually see the cogs turn in his head and he rapidly did the math. The way his face paled was unmistakable.

Ajax and Enid’s eyes switched between the two of you, and quickly they understood too. “I did what I had to do,” you mumbled defensively, looking away. Just because it had been self defense didn’t mean you were overly proud of killing those men. Thankfully and much to your surprise, that didn’t seem to bother them for very long.

Wednesday’s lips twitched slightly. “Nice,” she simply noted.

“You’re both fine, that’s all that matters,” Enid said, sending a small glare to her slightly-too-much-pleased-looking girlfriend.

The two boys nodded in agreement. Their genuine relief was heartwarming; maybe you could let them in too, just like you had let Tyler. Well, not that far of course. But it was still something.

Clearing your throat, you tried to temper their excitement, “There’s still the school board to deal with, thought. Weems is willing to back us up, but the board, well it’s something else.”

Ajax frowned in disbelief, “What do you mean? It didn’t happen in Nevermore, why should they care?”

Wednesday was quicker to understand and answered for you, “It’s a menace for them if a normie press charges,” she explained flatly. “And I suppose the board isn’t the biggest fan of either Y/N or Tyler, am I right?”

You nodded, “If no one press charges against us, the board might get off our backs, but nothing’s so sure.”

That made them – your friends now – look at each other in worry. All you could do now was to wait for Weems and the board to debate about the whole situation.

Apparently, the negotiations were short; at least that’s what you supposed when you saw one of the board members gesturing you through the window to come and meet them; it was the middle of your last session before lunch. Excusing yourself to the teacher, you gathered your belongings and exited the room. Once in the hallway you gave a polite nod to the pale ginger witch who had requested your presence.

“Good morning Miss Van Helsing,” she greeted politely.

“I assume the board has reached a decision?” you asked, shifting uneasily from one leg to another. Better finish this quickly, even if there was only one member you never particularly enjoyed your discussions with the board.

The witch nodded, “We have indeed. I came to inform you of our decision regarding yours and mister Galpin’s status for the rest of the year.”

Swallowing thickly, you tried to look anywhere but at her, “And?”

“You’re both staying at Nevermore.”

Not expecting such an answer you whipped your head to her, eyes wide in shock.

“What?” you blurted in disbelief, to which the witch only shrugged.

“No official complaint had been filed on the normies’ side, some members of the board didn’t assess wise to frame either of you for what happened. You did save lives after all.”

You nodded slowly, registering that the board was letting you go. “Well…thank you I guess. It must’ve been quite the debate, uh? I wonder how much it has cost your pride.”

The witch chuckled at the return of your usual sarcasm. “Believe it or not, but personally I pleaded in your favor. Some members of the board aren’t trying to put your head on a spike.”

“Mmh, who could have guessed,” you grumbled, “none of you had been really friendly so far.”

Maybe playing witty wasn’t the best strategy. But even if the woman was honest you couldn’t help yourself. The board member glanced around and lowered her voice. “Some of us are more than concerned about this attack, Miss Van Helsing,” she confided in a whisper. “Those men clearly weren’t simple muggers, their presence in Jericho raises many questions.”

“For once we agree,” you nodded with the same low voice. “Is there anything new about them?”

The ginger witch shook her head, “Not yet. The possibility of this attack being directed toward outcasts isn’t to be discarded.”

That made you gulp slowly. Of course, you knew this was a legit thought but this still made you uneasy. At least knowing that some members of the board were suspicious too comforted you a bit.

With one last polite nod the witch left, disappearing in the corridors like she had never been here in the first place. Instead of returning to class, you turned away and hurried the other way.

A couple of minutes later you pushed the infirmary’s door. Glancing around you noticed the absence of the school nurse – probably on lunch break, it was close to noon anyway. There was no one there and you got to the room where Tyler was. He laid in his bed, sleeping peacefully, looking less pale than before. The anesthetic had worn off, his body should’ve healed since then.

Sitting next to him on the bed you brushed the curls off his forehead mind-absently. Tyler winced softly at the contact, eyes fluttering open gradually. Brown orbs seemed lost, unable to settle for a few seconds before finding your eyes. He mumbled your name weakly, grasping onto consciousness.

“Hey tiger,” you whispered with a smile, “glad to see you back to us.”

A lazy chuckle escaped Tyler, “You won’t get rid of me that easily, doll.”

You grinned softly, “How are you feeling?”

“ ‘m fine,” he mumbled, “ still feeling like I got hit by a truck.” His eyes shifted to the bruise on your jaw, faded but still visible.

“I’m fine,” you answered his silent question, “we had worse, you and I.”. This felt awfully similar to the scene the night before; but now Tyler’s mind was more clear.

He nodded but the worried look lingered on his face. Instead he tried to move to another subject, like remembering what you had talked about when he had woken up the day before. “The board?”

“They’re letting us walk away from all of this,” you smiled weakly, “no jail for us.”

Tyler’s eyes widened in surprise, mouth opened in a half-smile, half-bewilderment. “How did you manage to do that?”

“Why, with my charming personality of course. Did you ever doubt that?”

Tyler cracked a grin, his face illuminating at the news, “Nah never, sweetheart.”

Without really thinking about it, your hands had found each other, grasping tightly for support. It felt natural, like the gesture had been a mutual call from your needy bodies and souls. In a sudden rush of emotion, you felt your heart swell and you leaned forward to press your lips against Tyler’s. The softness of your mouth against his made him sigh, and Tyler’s other hand reached for the back of your neck, caressing it gently. The warmth blooming within your chest elicited a small whimper, stifling from where your lips locked with Tyler’s. It felt different, more passionate from the other times you had kissed him. More intense, and even more right. It felt that being right here, kissing Tyler with everything you had, was just the place you belonged.

Caught up in your make-out session, you soon ended up half laying on Tyler, chests pressed together as his tongue rolled around yours. A moan broke from your lips and you started to feel hot, the collar of your uniform shirt suddenly feeling too tight. Just when you were ready to rip the stupid mandatory tie away, Tyler suddenly broke the kiss.

“Wait,” he panted, “I have to ask you something first.” At your perplexed frown, Tyler only bore his gaze to yours in the most serious expression you ever saw on him. Then after a long handful of seconds he finally asked, “Why didn’t you shoot me at the Weathervane?”

Breath hitching, you felt your throat become dry. Part of you hadn’t expected Tyler to remember so much of the events during his transformation. Maybe you had hoped he wouldn’t, to avoid the sensitive question yourself; while fully knowing you’ll have to face it eventually.

Seeing your hesitation, Tyler pressed his question further. “You had ten times the opportunity to pull the trigger. Why didn’t you?”

Licking your lips, you hesitated a few more seconds. “I couldn’t,” you whispered.

“But why?” he insisted softly.

The silence that followed answered for you. This had been beyond your strength; for the first time in your life, you had been unable to do the job because you hesitated. And deep down, you knew why.

“I just couldn’t,” you repeated.

Instead of feeling hurt by your lack of a clear answer, Tyler gave you a tender smile. Grabbing your hand he brushed his thumb over your knuckles. “Does that mean that you like me a little, then?”

The lightness of the joke brought a smile to your face. “Don’t flatter yourself too much, pretty boy.”

“But you didn’t deny,” he grinned.

An amused huff left your lips; and then before you chickened out the words left your lips. “I didn’t shoot you because I couldn’t hurt you. I- I love you Tyler. I know,” you chuckled with a sob to his widening eyes, “quite the plot twist, uh?”

One of his hands came to brush your face, trembling fingers barely touching your cheek like fearing you’d vanish. “You love me?...” he repeated.

You nodded, tears brimming at the corner of your eyes. Tyler’s digits caressed your face and you leaned on his palm. “You really love me?”

The tremors in his voice made your heart squeeze, realizing that his stupefaction was only due to your switching behavior. Yesterday morning at the therapist’s office you told him you weren’t sure of what you felt, and now you were telling Tyler you loved him; you definitely hadn’t made things easy. “I know it might sound like coming out of nowhere,” you muttered, “guess I’m more a girl of action than words.”

He chuckled weakly through his overwhelming emotions, “No shit. Took you an hostage situation to realize you had fallen for me.”

“Yeah, I’m that much of a romantic,” you grinned, bubbly feeling inside of your chest trying to spill out under the intensity of the moment. It was the first time you ever said those words to anyone, after all. “I…after what you said at Fern’s office, and when I saw you as the Hyde I just…I couldn’t bring myself to shoot you,” you confessed softly, mirroring his gesture and caressing Tyler’s scarred cheek. “I realized that I couldn’t lose the person I love.”

Tyler suddenly brought your face down and crashed his lips against yours. A surprised gasp escaped your lips, quickly replaced by a breathy moan. The kiss overwhelmed you all at once, Tyler’s touch drowning your senses until numbness. Pressed against his chest you couldn’t repress a breathy whimper through the entanglement of your tongues. Tyler’s body reacted on its own with a growl and an involuntary grasp of his hand that had shot to your hip. The way he softened his touch ever so slightly just after the grip made you smile through the kiss. Parting slightly from his lips, you grinned at him.

“Does that mean you like me a little?” you asked teasingly, repeating his own words and Tyler grinned back at you.

“Took you this long to notice?” he sassed back, but the underlying softness in his voice was still here.

“My mind got a bit lost,” you admitted with a grin, “do you know how hard it can be to think around you, pretty boy? You’re kinda distracting.”

Sliding an arm around your waist so you could be even closer to him, Tyler smiled and dropped a teasing feather-like kiss against your lips. “This might be the strangest way I’ve been called hot.”

With a shrug you jabbed him on the rib, making him jolt with a laugh, “Told you, I’m a true romantic.”

The insolence and sarcastic unconventional answer made him smile even more. “That’s why I love you, doll,” he said softly, and you felt your heart soar and your throat tighten at the confession.

Even if you knew he did, for Tyler had hinted and mentioned it a few times before, it felt utterly different to hear it so clearly. It simply felt right.

Leaning closer you kissed Tyler again, lips instantly capturing his when he opened his mouth to welcome yours. The kiss quickly turned into a more heated make out session, Tyler’s hand returning to your hip and gripping it tightly. One of your legs slid over his and sooner than later you ended up straddling his lap, not once breaking away from his lips. Teeth clashing and tongues curling around the other, none of you seemed to care to remember where you were, or that someone could enter any moment. That being said, both of yours and Tyler’s reputations were already quite juicy at Nevermore, another scandal wouldn’t taint it much more. Plus, the school nurse must've caught teenagers making out more than once.

The tenderness of the previous moment evolved into a heated atmosphere, hands clinging and kneading on each other’s clothes. While he hungrily kissed your mouth, Tyler’s gripping hand traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass; the squeeze he gave elicited a breathy groan, from the depth of your throat. A hot feeling irradiated through your entire body and the need to tear off your own clothes became unbearable. Needy fingers – yours or his? – clinged on the tie of your uniform, but in the hurry of the moment it was messy and none of you managed to successfully untie it. Huffing in frustration you gave up the tie but didn’t stop ravishing Tyler’s mouth. As a reflex under the building frustration, your hips grinded down, trying to find some relief and the gesture was welcome with a long moan from Tyler. You couldn’t help the smirk that grew on your face at the feeling of the hardening swell against your clothed core. A surge of passion made you bolder, your hands let go of Tyler’s shirt and jaw to push down the already disheveled bed sheet. When he felt you fumble with the zipper of his pants, Tyler gasped, breaking away from the kiss. The shadow of a protest formed on his lips but it quickly vanished when another moan tore from his throat and his hips bucked needly against you.

“Eager lover boy?” you grinned down at him.

With a raise of his pelvis, Tyler helped you with the laborious tugging of his pants through ragged breaths. “Won’t complain for sure, babe,” he grinned playfully. At the new intimate nickname your heart dropped for a second; but then a rush of newfound passion flooded through you.

Impatient fingers found his hardened dick and wrapped around it, eliciting a heated moan from Tyler. Hair messy sprawled on the pillow, eyes half closed in pleasure, Tyler had the most delicious fucked out expression on his face. With his cheeks flushed and bruised lips slightly opened, it was hard to believe you barely touched him. And yet even you could feel yourself starting to get wet at the errotic vision of him sprawled under you. This wasn’t about teasing anymore, this was a messy and urgent need to have him inside you.

From under his long lashes, Tyler glanced at you in surprise when you rolled your skirt up your thighs. As an answer you winked at him playfully.

“Those ugly uniform skirts come useful after all.”

Tyler swore he had never heard anything sexier before. But it was the vision of your panties being pulled hurriedly down your thighs that definitely made his heart implode and his cock twitch in your hand. Flicking your thumb over the head leaking with precum you grinned, panting in expectancy. The contact of your glistening folds against his length made you both moan hotly.

“Fuck,” you swore under you breath, “I need you so bad Tyler.”

His breath hitched at the contact, but he still looked up with a questioning look. “Here?”

You grinned at how thin the last string of his self-control was, “If I’m not riding you in the next ten seconds I’m gonna kill someone, pretty boy.”

Just on cue you lowered yourself on him and he swore loudly, throwing his head back on the pillow. “Holy shi–”

The warmth of your slick walls around his length made him choke on his own breath. Even if the delicious feeling was more than familiar Tyler couldn’t hold back the shiver running down his spine. His previous worry was thrown out of the window in the blink of an eye. A hand immediately shot to grab your ass cheeks, pushing you down harder on his throbbing cock, eliciting a high pitched moan from you. Smirking at your reaction he thrusted his lips upward playfully, meeting yours with a groan.

“Better now, doll?”

With a grin you rolled your lips even harder on him, “Definitely.”

A familiar knot already started to build in the pit of your stomach and with no time you found yourself bouncing on Tyler’s cock mercilessly. Juices spilled all over his hardened length, making Tyler dig his fingers on the soft flesh of the curve of your ass. Instead of making you hiss in pain it elicited a deep moan from you. The hot feeling of his thickness inside your sensitive walls made you buck your hips even harder, riding Tyler at a passionate, harsh pace. It didn’t matter where the two of you were anymore or who could walk on you; for now the only thing that mattered was the pounding inside your dripping cunt and Tyler’s hands grabbing your flesh to ground himself through his own thrusts.

Mind clouded with lust, you didn’t notice the greedy fingers brushing upwards to your hip bones, trying to get a better hold of your hips to flip you. But caught up in his own pleasure, Tyler was too sloppy to switch your positions as swiftly as he would have wanted, and with a guttural moan at a particular strong squeeze of your walls around him, he completely gave up his plan – and gave himself away at the same time. Noticing what he wanted to do, you pinned him down the mattress, using his shoulder as leverage to ground yourself with the unforgiving pace your hips set.

Tyler’s questioning look was met with a bossy glint of amusement in your own eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing? You’re not the one in charge here, pretty boy.”

Like a proof of your words, you squeeze around him, grinding down harder and eliciting as expected a muffled moan from him. But a flash of cockiness also appeared on Tyler’s face. “D’you really think that, doll?” he teased with a feral grin.

The brush of his hand from your hip, and up your belly followed his smug question. The lust-clouded laziness of your brain registered, but oh so slowly, the sensual trail ghosting over your clothes, covering your heated skin like a plague. Despite knowing where it would lead, you couldn’t help the high pitched moan breaking from your lips when Tyler’s calloused fingers wrapped around your throat. A shiver of pleasure immediately ran down your spine.

Your reaction made his smirk stretch further.

“Let’s see who’s in charge now, sweetheart.”

The pressure on your windpipe made it impossible to articulate the singlest word, only a wanton cry escaped. That made Tyler’s cock twitch inside of you, and the pulsing veins throbbed against your pussy’s walls, making you moan again. Sensing how responsive you were by the way you cunt clenched around him like a vine and how impossibly wet you got at his gesture, Tyler grinned and increased the pressure around your throat. A loud gasp and a wild buck of hips was what he got immediately.

“Fuck,” you rasped in a breathy voice, short and edgy thanks to Tyler’s grip on your throat, “I’m close, I’m close don’t fucking st– ah!”

The sharp thrust of his hips combined with the choking had cut you mid sentence. “You wanna come, uh? Gonna cum all over my cock with that slutty pussy of yours?” asked Tyler, voice heavy and tainted in lust.

Unable to form a coherent answer like your mind had frozen, your body responded itself. The way you were bouncing, alternating with riding Tyler mercilessly was explicit enough.

How sensitive you were to both his chokehold and dirty talk made Tyler’s heart soar in pride. It was incredible to feel having such a dominative power when you were the one riding him. Tyler watched mesmerized how your thighs jiggled at every bounce on his cock, juices dripping on the soft inside of them from under your rolled up skirt. Your panties dandled on your left ankle, long forgotten, but the flash of the fabric barely hanging up with the force of your fucking looked so fucking hot to him. And the vision of your utterly fucked out expression and breasts bouncing despite the confinement of your bra and school shirt would definitely stick in his mind for a long time. What could he say, you wore his hand around your throat like the prettiest necklace of pearls.

Another hard thrust made you throw your head backward with a long moan. Shooting up in reflex, one of your hands clutched the one of Tyler’s wrist close to your neck, holding on it for some grounding. The orgasm built up within your insides and you squeezed your walls harder around Tyler. He groaned in pleasure, his free hand squeezing your hip until his knuckles turned white.

“Holy shit– doll I won’t last long–”

The edge in his tone matched the eagerness arising from the erratic thrusts of his dick in you. Another squeeze, and he let his head fall down the pillow with a deep lustful moan, releasing himself with a burst of pleasure. The feeling of Tyler’s cum painting your insides and the pressure around your throat made you come undone almost on the spot. A spasm ran through your entire body, shivering under the weight of the crashing orgasm. You felt your own juices spilling and mixing with his own, milking all over Tyler’s spamming cock.

The pace of your hips gradually become sloppier, just like Tyler’s grip around your throat softened as both of your orgasms sank in. Only lazy thrusts and heavy pants remained, for the two of you to recompose your spirits after the mind-blowing fuck you just had.

It took you every ounce of will to leverage yourself on your wobbly knees and slowly pull off of Tyler’s softening dick. He hissed slightly, but quickly grabbed a wipe on the nearby table, swiping the mess on your abused cunt carefully without a word. When he finished doing the same on his length, you helped him tuck himself inside of his pants and finally let yourself drop on top of him.

A breathy sigh left your lips. “Phew, this was…certainly something. Probably the best infirmary sex I’ve had.”

Tyler snorted, “Because you have fucked in an infirmary before?”

“I’m going ahead for the next time, lover boy,” you said playfully, nuzzling your head against his shoulder.

The usual flirting didn’t erase the feeling of warmth flooding through his heart, and Tyler slid his fingers in your hair tenderly. Then after a few seconds of peaceful silence, his own teasing nature resurfaced, “We need to talk about your choking kink thought, babe.”

Head shooting up, you frowned at him like he had wounded your pride. “I do not have a choking kink!”

This could have been menacing enough if it hadn’t been for your still blushing cheeks and the slight pout you gave him; Tyler let out a heart-warming laugh. “Sure you don’t,” he grinned, “and you never cum right away when either of us are getting choked. Good to know you’re into vanilla and denial, duly noted.”

You huffed, putting your chin on top of his chest and glaring at Tyler, “You’re such a dumb ass.”

The words may have been mean, but Tyler knew they were tainted with playfulness and stubborn embarrassment. So he smiled down at you and angled his face to press a loving kiss on your forehead. “Yes, but I’m your dumbass.”

You smiled too at his words and cuddled closer to him, your lips against his throat. “Yeah, you’re my dumbass,” you repeated fondly.

When the school nurse came back half an hour later, the bed was empty – and the sheets long dumped into the laundry pile.

The next few days become gradually calmer at Nevermore. The panic that had risen at the news of the attack downtown wore off as daily school life began again. If the police carried on the investigation on the mercenaries, nothing reached the ears of the Nevermore gossip; and thus the topic slowly disappeared in everyone’s mind. Even if the lack of news about the attack that had almost cost your lives weren’t to please either of you, Tyler and you were glad to have some peace at last. For two whole weeks the only thing in your mind was the newfound label on your relationship. Ever since you officially became a couple, both of you gave even more space to this “us”.

It had become incredibly rare to see you being apart, even during the nights – your room had basically become Tyler’s now, even if he had already spent a lot of time there before. Ajax had even called you in the middle of the night once, worried about the absence of his roommate for the fourth night in a row. The gruff voice tainted with sleep on the other side of the phone, asking who it was had been an enough answer, and the gorgon had let out a “oOOOOH” after a long second of silence, putting two and two together. On the other hand, Ajax was rather relieved at the prospect of Tyler now spending most of his time in your room. Not that he disliked his roommate, they were friends now; but the idea of not risking to lose his sight by walking on the two of you fucking – again – was deeply appreciated for the sake of his remaining sanity. And he was also genuinely happy for Tyler and you. Not that he hadn’t seen that coming but he had honestly not expected love to go through your thick headed behavior.

And honestly, you were kind of thinking the same. Not in a billion years would you have imagined you’d fall so hard for someone. The more time passed, the more you felt your love for Tyler grow deeper and stronger. Since you had come to the realization of your feelings and confessed to him, every single detail you had already noticed before became more and more attractive in your eyes. The way he always, always, let you walk in first or made sure you were okay and did so effortlessly. Or how his hand found its way around yours no matter where you were, at the slightest sign of discomfort from you. And no one got you started on the usual flirty and cocky comments, you would have never thought he could sound sexier than before.

This newfound coziness wasn’t only beneficial to you. Tyler found it even easier to talk about what he felt, sometimes about very serious topics way too dark to address in therapy. Maybe it was because both of you had definitely lowered down your defense walls around each other. Once or twice, while you were cuddling on your bed late at night, Tyler opened up about his mum. You had come to understand that the topic had been brought up during his sessions with his previous therapist; yet he had never told Dr.Fern about her once. But in the secure embrace of your arms and the soft thumping of your heart under his ear, he felt safe enough to talk about it. Having him talking about his late mother touched you deeply, and you had listened to him patiently every time, fingers running through his hair as he laid his head on your chest. For you who always had a highly complicated relationship with any member of your family, especially your parents, the affection and love Tyler had for his mom was both an amazement. Mrs.Galpin seemed to have been an incredible woman, and the more he talked to you about her, the more you wished you could meet her.

The feeling grew stronger as the parents’ weekend rolled by. It was perhaps out of nostalgia and longing for his mother’s presence, but Tyler had a melancholic expression the day before. Two weeks after the attack at the Weathervane, the upcoming event had taken place in everyone’s minds, including his. The prospect of ever other students getting to see their loved ones but him certainly did put a stain on his mood; but on the other hand, knowing you’d be here was enough to comfort him. That’s how you ended up plopped on the balcony of the passageway above the quad, observing the living yard in bewilderment.

“Who do you think will get on Weems’ back first? Vampires or Sirens?” you asked out loud.

Next to you, Tyler chuckled. Half-sitting on the edge of the stone balcony, your side was leaning on your boyfriend’s chest. Having preferred to stand Tyler could easily plop his chin on the top of your head – which you found annoying, but had to admit it was also cute. Although the way he could quickly press a kiss on your forehead made up for that.

“My bet’s on the Vampires,” he answered, enjoying the relative peace the high-perched spot allowed from the crowded quad. “Is Yoko’s coven coming?”

“Nah, didn’t see any of them. They’ll probably be avoiding Nevermore for a few years,” you shrugged. “What a waste, really.”

The freckled boy snickered and nudged you playfully, “C’mon babe, at least their absence is the only good thing today.”

“Not it’s not the only thing,” you corrected, eyes suddenly caught by the newly arrived family, “holy shit is that Wednesday’s mom?”

Both pairs of eyes immediately got glued to the tall, dark and elegant figure of Morticia Addams greeting her unfazed daughter. Anyone could have felt jealous of having their significant other ogling at someone else, but Tyler and you were equally too caught up in mesmerization to care.

“She’s really pretty,” whistled Tyler slowly, still not quite believing such a beautiful and sensual woman had given birth to the worst case of resting bitch face he knew.

“Bruh, she’s hella hot,” you corrected in a blurt, “is this too late to say I may have a mommy kink now?”

A chuckle escaped Tyler, throat dry at the sight of the goddess-like mother in the quad, “You know what, I’m not even concerned about that. Totally understandable.”

“Yup.”

“Do you have any idea on how to respectfully ask someone to step on you?”

That made you laugh and you tore your eyes from your newfound crush to raise an amused eyebrow at Tyler, “You’ll beg her to step on you, pretty boy.”

“Damn right I will,” he grinned smugly, to which you pressed a finger on his chest.

“Listen, I love you handsome, but I’ll push you under a bus to get this gorgeous and sexy mum to ever grace me with a smile okay?”

The scarred boy gave you a crooked smile and leaned closer to you. “At least we’re on the same page, doll,” he breathed against your face before kissing you softly.

You felt yourself grin against his lips, and you locked your arms behind his neck. Oh, how much you loved that dumbass, flirty man of yours. Despite all of your previous words, you knew that none of you would actually leave the other – not ever. Even if Wednesday’s insanely hot mother asked you to.

Breaking away from Tyler’s lips, you dropped one last feather-light kiss on his lips before turning toward the quad again. You were curious to see how the weird Addams bunch would react to everything – especially Wednesday’s bright and colorful girlfriend. But before you had the time to look for either of them, your face fell at the vision of two familiar figures entering the quad.

“Motherfucker,” you swore slowly under your breath, making Tyler turn to you at the sudden change of mood.

“Babe? What’s up?” he asked gently. But no matter how sweet he was, the anger rose up in you like a flood of lava inside of a volcano.

“You got to be fucking kidding me,” you growled, and without any more explanation turned sharply in the stairs’ direction.

Your very confused boyfriend followed you immediately, not quite understanding what put you suddenly in such a wrath. The last time he had seen you like that had been just after the assault at the Poe cup. Despite your furious pace through the crowd of students, he still managed to grab your hand and tug you close to him.

“What’s going on?” he whispered to you, trying to not bring any more attention that your sudden appearance to the quad had bought.

Fuming, you didn’t even look at him as you answered through gritted teeth, “My parents are here.”

Tyler’s eyebrows rose high in surprise at the news. He wouldn’t have expected any more Van Helsings in this school, but come to think of it your parents were maybe the less dangerous for the outcasts. For themselves however, it was a risky bet to come to see you, they would realize that sooner than later.

“Tell me this is a fucking joke,” you barked at them.

The sudden raise of your angry voice made the couple whip in your direction with wide eyes, stopping their nervous glancing around. They both had their mouths agape, taking in your angry posture a few feets away from them. You hadn’t seen them in years, but you'd be damned if you approached those people too much.

Being the first to recompose her spirits, your mother attempted a small beaming smile.

“Y/N it’s– it’s good to see you again,” she tried carefully, which encouraged your father to do the same.

“We’re glad to be here to meet you,” he added, to which you only snorted loudly. This definitely didn’t help either of them to feel more at ease, you could see your mother fidgeting nervously at your cold behavior and lack of answer.

"You look...well."

"You look like yourself," you snapped back bitterly, "that's how bad. And you'd look even better ten foot away from me, so take all your morals and go the fuck away."

The gasp your mother let out was so loud it made a few heads turn in your direction. Even Tyler sucked in a sharp breath next to you, eyes flickering back and forth between the three people. Of course, he knew you weren’t the biggest fan of your folks, and that your relationship was rather complicated with your whole family. But given you almost never brought up the subject he hadn’t imagined you being that bitter toward them. Although he understood why the anger, from what he had understood it was your parents’ change of mind regarding the family missions that had participated to put you where you were now.

Despite the clear animosity emanating from you, your father couldn’t help but insist a little more harshly.

“Watch your tone young lady,” he warned in a hard voice, “you’re still our daughter.”

“Ah!” you snickered, “Now I’m your daughter you’re worrying about? Sorry you’re about ten years too late.”

“Keith please,” your mother said softly, touching her husband’s arm to calm him down. Then she turned to you again, “We just wanted to see if you were feeling well here, that’s all.”

Her words made your blood boil in anger, and if it wasn’t for Tyler’s hand gripping yours you would have jumped on them to gauge their eyes out. “Except it’s not, isn’t it?” you snapped angrily; still, you squeezed lightly Tyler’s hand behind you, signaling that you wouldn’t lose control now. “You’re here because you want something from me, right? It’s always like that!”

The way they both looked away was enough proof. That angered you even more, but it also made a sharp sense of fury rise in Tyler at the same time. He had never thought much of your parents before, but now they were down right assholes.

Frowning at them, you started to understand their motives.

“You’re here to use me as a banner of your naive little non-violence ideology,” you spat venomously, “again. Now that I’m out of juvie I'm useful, uh?”

This time it was your mother’s turn to scoff, “Your time in prison was on you only.”

“You don’t know shit about that,” growled Tyler, speaking up for the first time.

The three Van Helsing whipped their heads in his direction; you, eyes wide in surprise that he stepped up to your defense, and your parents seeming just having noticed him. The way both of your parents’ eyes squinted at him, scanning the freckled outcast from head to toes, didn’t please you.

“You’re in no place to talk, boy,” sneered your father in disdain, and for the first time in years you thought you saw a glimpse of disgust in his eyes. So much for promoting peace betweens Van Helsings and outcasts.

The growl that rose in Tyler wasn’t announcing anything good. “Don’t call me boy,” he snapped. “And I have every right to talk about this since I know what really happened to Y/N.”

Your father scoffed again, while your mother’s eyes flickered between Tyler and you perplexedly, frowning in disbelief. Still, she couldn’t help but defend themselves, “We know what happened to our daughter, don’t interfere with this conversation.”

Snickering loudly, you let out a bitter laugh, “No you don’t. You didn’t even bother to bring your sorry asses to my trial, what kind of parents do that?”

“And he was there?” spat your mother. At this point none of you cared if curious students and parents witnessed your bitter exchange.

“No I wasn’t,” said Tyler passionately, still gripping your hand tightly, “but at least I’ve listened to her instead of throwing her under a bus like you did.”

“What an outcast like you can know about this?”

“God damn, here we are,” you said, throwing your hands in the air, “there’s the crack in your shell of hypocrisy. You really defend outcasts when it’s convenient for your image, uh? The infamous good Samaritans of the Van Helsing family, y’all!” you called louder, gesturing dramatically to the whole quad, making even more heads turn in your direction. Which didn’t please your father the slightest and just as he stepped closer to grab you, Tyler’s hand shot first. Gripping the older man’s wrist tightly, he glared at him darkly.

“Don’t touch her.”

“Let go of me this instant or you’ll regret it, boy,” seethed your dad. In the corner of your eye, you could see that even with her worried look, your mother was ready to attack any moment.

“Then do it,” Tyler sassed, “go on, attack me. At least you won’t be looking down on your daughter after that. No more good and righteous Van Helsings.”

This may have been the hottest way someone had come to your defense. You’ll have to properly thank him later. Plus his witty dare seemed to work because after a few seconds of tension-filled silence, your father tore his wrist from him, glaring at the both of you. Turning on his heels he stormed out of the quad without a word, no matter how pleading your mother’s eyes were. She turned to you, tears brimming in the corner of her eyes.

“What have Ephraïm and Irina done to you,” she muttered in a wavering voice.

You scoffed again at the mention of your despicable grandparents. “Nothing more that you and dad did. Until you admit you’re as responsible as them for ruining my life, don’t even bother trying speaking to me again.”

With that you grabbed Tyler’s hand and turned away from your dumbfounded mother, not gracing her with another look as you walked away. Crowd of students and their parents parted on your way, heads turning as you held yours high. The anger that had risen in the blink of an eye had died down as quickly, leaving you with nothing but a content feeling. Tyler however was still worried and as soon as you both reached a more scheduled area, tugged you gently to face him. You met his rich brown eyes filled with concern, a crease between his brows showing how deep he worried.

“You’re okay?” he whispered, to which you only raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“Mmh? Yeah I’m fine, I’m okay. They’re dicks but that’s fine,” you shrugged.

A calloused hand cupped your cheek, “You’re sure?”

The mere gesture made your heart melt, and you gently put your hands around his, “I’m fine,” you repeated in a soft voice, “truly I am, don’t worry. I haven’t been taking seriously anything my family has to say to me for years now, it’s not a big deal anymore.”

Tyler still did not look completely reassured so you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, feeling him relax instantly. “I’m okay babe,” you said with an unusually gentle smile, “their arrival just upset me that’s all. They’re already forgotten.”

The worried expression on Tyler’s face turned into a pout and you couldn’t help but laugh at that. Hearing you laugh made him relax immediately and he smiled softly at you. Tyler slid his arms around your waist, tugging you close to his chest.

“I love you, you know that?” he grinned softly, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“I love you too, tiger,” you whispered back, before his lips found yours again.

The rest of the day went rather smoothly. Most of the students’ families went on to discover the academy, or spend the day either in the quad or in Jericho to catch up. Even if you’d rather have spent the day in your room, you and Tyler actually stayed with most of the guests. Of course you never really mingled – except when you somehow ended up talking with Ajax’s mom, who didn’t seem to care the slightest of your last name – and always stayed at a good distance; but at least you showed that you were invested in the school life. Given the recent events, it was probably better for the two of you to show signs of good faith.

It was almost dinner time when the new bomb dropped. Hand in hand, Tyler and you debated whether or not you should take the opportunity of the parents’ week-end to sneak outside of the academy and grab a bite somewhere, when an unexpected voice called from behind.

“Tyler?”

Your boyfriend froze before even turning to them. He knew that voice only too well. Whipping your head around your eyes widened at the sight of none other than the sheriff himself. Even if there were less people than earlier, Tyler’s dad didn’t seem comfortable in the middle of the outcast families.

“You came…” muttered Tyler in disbelief, still not quite believing his father had actually shown up; better late than never.

But instead, the gruff man only shrugged uncomfortably, “Yeah it’s kind of…a late minute decision.”

Fighting the urge to scoff at him, you put a calming hand on Tyler’s arm. He was trembling under your touch, but it wasn’t clear if it was of emotion or of anger.

Tyler snorted bitterly at his father’s words; definitely anger then. “What are you doing here, if you didn’t want to come?”

The attack seemed to hurt the sheriff in his pride, because he immediately switched to a defensive attitude. “I’m here to help you, son.”

This time it was your turn to snort, “Woaw, big fucking deal. Someone gives me tissues, I’m gonna cry.”

The sheriff immediately glared at you. There was kind of a déjà vu impression with the earlier confrontation.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Aww, you don’t remember me sheriff, I’m hurt,” you cooed in a mocking tone. “I thought purposefully ignoring your son had given you a better memory.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, nostrils flaring. After a few seconds he frowned. “You’re the Van Helsing kid. Should’ve lock you down for 20 years, you fucking psycho.”

You gave him a mocking salute, while you could feel Tyler tense next to you. “Ah, that would be me, yes. But a psycho who saved some of your civilians sheriff, so I’d say we’re even.”

Trying to ignore your provocative attitude, the sheriff turned to his son.

“That’s who you’re hanging with, uh? Do you even realize what she did?”

“You don’t get to say anything about this,” growled Tyler; but under the provocative words, you could still sense how febrile this encounter was making him.

His dad, of course, didn’t notice that and chose instead to frown in disgust at your intertwined hands. “She’s not good for you, not good for anybody. You won’t change with people like that around you, son.”

The insults almost made Tyler snap, but before he barked back at his dad, you let out a loud, exaggerated laugh.

“Ah! Excuse me, but who the fuck are you again? The dad who never bothered to listen to him, or god forbid talk to him? The one who buried his head in the sand at every minor inconvenience? You’re damn right, Tyler won’t heal with someone like that around him!”

The sheriff’s face turned into a bright shade of red. Stuck by your sudden outburst, Tyler tried to tug on your hand to calm you, to try to not let the situation escalate, but boy he was too late. You were fully launched now, and you would not stop until the roasting was over.

“You want Tyler to change, but to what? Do you have any idea of who he is now? Oh that’s right, you don’t! You were too busy being the crappiest, most ignoring, gaslighting fucking dad in the whole universe, and believe me I had my fair share of shitty family.”

“I won’t allow you to–”

“Shut up!” you cut him with a bark, making both of the men jump. “I’m so fucking sick of hearing you moralize Tyler instead of being an actual human being, and for once in your sorry life listen to him! God fucking damnit, the world doesn’t turn around you and this shitty attitude of yours!”

Through all of your speech, Tyler looked at you with wide eyes. All the things he never dared to say to his dad just magically flew out of your mouth. It felt almost too good to be true.

“If you really did want a son, you would have listened to him instead of trying to change him,” you spat angrily. “And guess what? He’s absolutely perfect the way he is and if you think otherwise as his dad, you should be the one taking some fucking therapy sessions instead.”

And just like this morning, you stormed away from the bewildered parent with Tyler by your side. The confrontation with your parents had upset you, but the arrival of Tyler’s dad and his life lessons had brought up unbelievable anger. But just like before, the more you walked away from him the more the anger died down.

Suddenly becoming aware of Tyler’s silence for the past minute, you stopped and turned your face to him.

“You’re okay?” you asked him.

Eyes and mouth wide open, Tyler stared at you for long seconds. It was hard to tell if his expression and the slight blush on his cheeks were due to intense emotion or excitement. Little did you know, seeing you roasting his dad had brought in him a level of amazement and attraction beyond compare.

“Please have my babies,” he blurted out of nowhere.

A laugh escaped you, resonating through the corridor. Sliding your arm around his waist, you tilted your head to kiss him briefly.

“That sounds like a plan, pretty boy,” you smirked before tugging him to the dorms’ direction.

A few minutes later the upsetting encounters of the day were long forgotten. Blessedly unaware of the real reason behind the arrival of the sheriff at Nevermore, unfolding at the same time in Weems’ office, Tyler and you found comfort in each other’s arms like always. Whatever dreading news had been bought by sheriff Galpin would wait.

[Part.9]

A/N: yes I’ll make every single character simp over Morticia “step on me mommy plz” Addams, because I can

Thanks everyone for reading, I hope you enjoyed this part ♥ Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

Taglist:

@igotanidea @officerrrfriendly @beggingforxavierthorpe @aliciahlewis @stresseyzesty @katiemrty @leightonsteele @black-swan-blog27 @mooniesthings @nightfurya @steadypoetrydinosaur @hellokittysblog0 @thecraftoflove @yasmine302

Usernames unfound by Tumblr:

@spiceyhotsherbet

Plz tell me if I’ve forgotten you in the taglist (or if you wanna join!) Do not hesitate to mention it, it’s been quite a while I’ve check the taglist, I might have forgotten some newcomers (and if so, I deeply apologize)

#tyler galpin #tyler galpin imagine #tyler galpin x you #tyler galpin fanfic #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin angst #tyler galpin smut #Wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #Van Helsing! Reader #no beta we die like men

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gnomeniche · 2 years ago

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I was listening to Two Birds on a wire and then the line “I’ll believe it all”, and thought if Linden and Lucas. Omg it’s them, or from what I’ve seen, its reminds me of the two bros when they were a bit younger.

two birds makes me feel it all honestly. whenever i find characters i can apply it to i just lay there. i didn't even think of them as two birds but now that you bring up "i'll believe it all" i FEEL it.

anyway uhhh i was just gonna go into the twins' relationship and family drama but i guess this is the post where i do a deep dive into linden's fucked up brain. under the cut!

YES they were very close as kids. linden let lucas know what people without second sight were seeing so lucas could avoid being made fun of and lucas often enlisted linden for help when he needed to deal with something supernatural. linden never really questioned whether lucas's sight was real. even though he doesn't have second sight linden is observant enough to see little inconsistencies in things that he notices his brother giving funny looks toward. and he's physically felt invisible things touch him on occasions when lucas would bring him along to check out something weird he saw. so of course it's real. and they'd stand up for each other whenever someone was being cruel to the other. brothers stick by brothers, always.

they grew apart when they entered adolescence bc. well. adolescence is a time where you start paying more attention to what people think of you and what they think is normal. and the constant mockery of lucas started weighing hard on both twins esp since their parents already put a lot of pressure on them. pressure on lucas to not be such an embarrassment and pressure on linden to be perfect to make up for his brother's "failings".

the dilemma was that linden hated how people treated his brother and wanted to stand by him but he also was terrified of being treated the way people treated his brother. and it's really hard not to start resenting your brother when you are trying SO hard and want more than just a shred of affection for once in your life and everyone rejects him and by extension you because you two share a face and are usually together. and it was ABSOLUTELY NOT lucas's fault, but when you are a kid and there's so much you can't control, it's so hard to recognize that the blame falls on society and your parents. it's easier to blame it on something within reach. or someone.

and so eventually everything gets to be too much and everyone's laughing at you two and you snap and you tell your brother in front of everyone that god, they are right, why do you have to be such a FREAK all the time? and your brother, who never fucking expected this kind of shit to come from HIS FUCKING BROTHER, spits back that he always KNEW that one day you'd turn out to be just like everyone else. and then he runs off and you desperately want to apologize for losing it because you never wanted to treat him how everyone else does but he's avoiding you and now that he's not around you people see you without him and they like you more and maybe... you do... want to be like everyone else. you're getting the hang of talking and acting how they want and they light up and praise you whenever you say something they like or achieve something good and even your parents aren't disappointed in you and god it feels so good (but your brother was never a burden to you, says a voice in the back of your head, and you ignore it because you can't go back to the constant shame and fear even though you've just replaced it with a different kind of fear because you can never ever slip up or else they'll treat you like lucas again and then the guilt hits again for having that thought and rinse and repeat).

meanwhile on the outside he's just becoming more well-liked and more of an overachiever and he's gotten so good at wearing the mask that nobody can tell that anything dark is boiling beneath. and lucas never forgave him for it. rightfully so. he was supposed to be his brother and he abandoned him and now he's SO happy with his new life and he barely even acknowledges lucas anymore. and for lucas that's kind of worse? like it would be objectively worse if linden started bullying him after the initial fight but instead he just... stopped acknowledging him. at all. and that did somewhat redirect other people's attention away from lucas but like. your brother who used to wholeheartedly support and believe in you has just fully rejected you in the space of like, a week. it hurts a lot.

but even though it seems like linden has everything he is desperately lonely and living in utter terror all the time. like everyone likes him and everyone is friendly with him but. nobody likes him because they don't really know him! they only know the image he projects. and nobody is friends with him because he doesn't let them close enough even though he does a good job of fooling them. everything he's done for love has just put him farther from it than ever. he can't risk having a crack in the facade and having everyone see that he's someone they'd mock. or worse, someone they'd pity. don't look at him with that pitying expression. no vulnerability ever except for the carefully curated Seeming of vulnerability that makes people more comfortable around you. but no real truth.

but at this point what even IS true about him, anyway? like does it really matter that deep down he really does not want to be like this if he's spent half his life being exactly like this? at some point, if the facade is doing everything, the facade becomes more real than the person. eidolon problems baby. he barely has a concept of what his real identity is anymore because he spends so much time trying to be what others want. he knows he loves and believes his brother but if he can't let himself show it in any way but the smallest, does he?

like he knows magic is real but he spends so much time knowingly lying about lucas's sight being fake. and lucas knows it too. that just makes it worse honestly. that lucas knows that linden doesn't believe this but he is actively choosing to lie about it. and for what? for what, linden?

TL;DR he sucks. i'm holding him gently. he's a terrible brother. he knows he's a terrible brother and he knows his reasons for it are terrible. he's not scared of anything. he has severe anxiety. he's a mean girl. he hates mean people. he's made himself as perfect as he can be. he thinks there's nobody worse than him. he's beloved by everyone. he's still as desperate for any shred of real affection as he was when he was a teen. he knows exactly what path he is going to take. he has no idea what he wants. he's perfectly normal. he is unbelievably fucked up. he has everything. it doesn't make him happy. he's worst boy and he's my favorite.

it's gonna be a fucking ordeal getting him to open up let alone repairing his and lucas's relationship. it's a good thing he's a recurring character before the arc he features in so we can start chipping at that mask early.

anyway as a reward for making it this far i'll leave you with some more songs. "call them brothers" by regina spektor, "aishite aishite aishite" by kikuo, "lying beast" by run river north

#i meant to do a short answer to this ask but i started thinking about linden and when i do that i can't stop. so #am.ask #hellmouth ocs #hathm linden #hathm lucas #because there's a little abt him in here too

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nuoyipeach · 2 years ago

Text

Five Senses - Part 1

Chapter Three

Sooyoung ended up going home anyways as Yuta persisted because he didn't want her to grab too much attention in his place. He walked her home himself, seeing it was already dark when they teleported back to the park.

"You know, you can always come visit me." Sooyoung said smiling as they reached the gate of her house. Yuta smiled back.

"I'll consider it. Besides you're kind of my responsibility now, it's my job to make sure you're safe and healthy." he said. He moved closer and gently tugged her arm, pulling her into a sudden hug. "Thank you."

"For what?" Sooyoung chuckled hugging him back. Yuta pulled out still smiling, and pushed strands of hair behind her ear.

"For not being mad. You accepted what happened really calmly, and I can't be any more thankful to you for that." he took her hand and gave a soft kiss on the back. Sooyoung felt her face heat up and quickly fanned it with her free hand before they looked at each other smiling. "I'll go, get inside first."

Sooyoung headed in, and looked out to see him already gone. She smiled to herself and turned away, met by her parents, her smile disappearing instantly.

"Why were you out so late?" her mother asked her. Sooyoung rolled her eyes and headed for the stairs, when she repeated her question.

"It doesn't matter where I was. I'm home aren't I. And for your information, I'm a grown woman with a job, so I'm pretty sure I know what I'm doing."

Her father stood up in a haste, smashing his cup onto the table. "How dare you speak to your mother like that!?! Go to your room!"

"Why should I listen to you anymore!?! I'm not a child!" Sooyoung yelled back and ran out the door, going anywhere she could, anywhere was better than at home. She ended up back in the town center and spotted a club, deciding to go in for a little while. Although she wasn't much of a drinker, she ordered some light beer wanting to feel at least a little calmed.

"Hey... Sooyoung is here!"

Sooyoung turned and faced her childhood friend, feigning a smile. Doyoung sensed her sadness, suddenly sobering up a little seeing her sadness. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked sitting next to her, arm around her shoulder. "Parents?"

Her sigh was enough for him to know the answer. "Something happened today, really weird and kind of scary. But, it wasn't that bad, and I was in a good mood... I should've known better than to go straight home..."

Doyoung sighed and hugged her, wondering what was it that made her feel happy. "What was that scary yet good thing?" he asked curiously. Sooyoung looked at him and but her lip.

"I found my soul mate..."

"But you don't believe in that though."

"He's a vampire."

Doyoung choked on his drink, eyes widened making him look more like a rabbit than he already did. "Wh- What did you... Where? No, who is it?"

Sooyoung thought of an answer, but to her own surprise thinking about it made her smile. "Apparently for vampires, soul mate is someone you'll spend your life with and they usually meet them after they passed legal age, and until they meet them they feel sick or hurt inside sometimes. For Yuta however, I'm the first and only human soul mate a vampire ever had, so he was even more in pain. I found him at the park, fainted from the pain. When I touched him to help him up, it..." she trailed off.

"What what!?!" Doyoung suddenly exclaimed. "Don't leave me on edge Park Sooyoung!" he shook her arm causing her to laugh.

"Well, apparently you'll know it's your soul mate when you interact by your five senses and the pain goes away, and your not sick anymore. When I held him to help him up, he then looked at me, and then I'm guessing he heard my voice. Last two are a little weird, but he smelt and tasted my blood, and he was all better." she saw his bewildered face and chuckled, before telling him the rest of the story, until when he walked her home.

"Woah..." Doyoung gawked. "That's... Amazing?" he stuttered a little, too shocked by this new information. The last thing he'd guess was that there was a completely different world along theirs, and now his best friend is part of it. But he suddenly remembered something else, and now became worried for her. "But what about your parents, and... Sungjae?"

Sooyoung looked away pursing her lips, sighing out loud. Doyoung knew she was trying to not think of the fact that her parents were obviously trying to get her into a forced marriage with the said man, but she was far from doing that. At least that's what she hoped.

"Sooyoung," he called her holding her hand."I think you should accept this man, the vampire I mean."

Sooyoung looked at him instantly. "Why do you think so?" she asked softly, genuinely wanting an answer.

"Well, from how you've said it seems like they treat you well, better than your parents actually. And this man, he gave you a choice despite knowing that he'd die if you don't accept it. And he's even taking responsibility to take care of you without knowing anything about you at all. I mean, I know it's practically his job, but he seems really caring about you."

Sooyoung thought about it for a short while. Even though Doyoung was right, she was still a little hesitant about it. Sighing for the nth time she finished her drink and decided to leave. "I think I'll go for now."

"I'll walk you home." Doyoung said about to get up, but she stopped him.

"It's OK, I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." she hugged him tight before leaving. "Thanks for the talk. I'll go now."

"Bye Sooyoung."

Sooyoung walked out into the dark streets. It was even quieter now than when she came, considering it was past midnight. She felt something odd, and shivered a little.

Is Yuta following me? She thought as she continued walked on towards a dark area where the street lights were off. Feeling a cold presence, she turned and looked around for anything that made her feel this way.

Failing to realise she was walking on the road the whole time.

+++

#nct #nct 127 #red velvet #nctvelvet #park sooyoung #nakamoto yuta #fluff #vampire au #soulmate au #kpop fanfic

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rainbowstargazerlilies · 2 years ago

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I. uh. I said in the tags that there were two ways I could continue this. Here's the first one. If y'all want to see the second one (Michael meets Brenn), let me know, I guess.

Turns out, once my brain is dead enough from midterm essays, I start writing absolute fluff. Hope you enjoy.

Part 4:

"There was something more than perfect about this moment right here, Marius thought to himself. Hugging Lyf, no matter if it was in a strange London flat that seemed only half there still. It wasn’t quite like the dreams, of course. Lyf’s hair was a bit in Marius’s mouth, and he was fairly certain he was squeezing them too tightly, and their clothes had a few odd bloodstains on them.

Still, though, it was Lyf. Lyf was right here in front of him, and alive, and remarkably whole, and not protesting the whole “Marius hugging them” thing. It was wonderful, and it was something past perfect, and Marius didn’t know if he’d ever feel anything quite so amazing again as he did right there and then.

The hug ended, though. Lyf stepped away slightly, looking him up and down. “How are you here,” they said, sounding utterly perplexed. “I thought. . . you were on the Aurora, weren’t you? Trying to track down Brenn?”

Marius grinned at them. It probably looked completely goofy, but he didn’t really care. He was here, and he was with Lyf, and Lyf was real and not dead after all and oh, gods above he’d been right. “There was a door,” he said helpfully.

“A. . . door,” Lyf repeated. Well, that was the “Lyf Has A Headache” face if he ever saw it.

“Some Michael fellow stopped by, gave a shovel talk, and then tried to leave, and I chased him down and ended up here.” Marius frowned. He was probably forgetting something. Oh, yes, there it was. “Said something about tracking down his sibling?”

“His sibling.” Lyf repeated yet again. “Marius, did you happen to mention Brenn?”

“Er. . . do you really want to know the answer?”

Lyf sat down, looking a little light-headed. “Michael’s off to try to find Brenn, and you’re here in Mrs. Wilton’s flat, and I’m still half covered in–” they paused, glancing down at their outfit. “In blood and worm guts,” they finally finished.

Marius coughed. “I was going to ask about that.”

He hadn’t been, actually. It didn’t look like Lyf’s blood, so it didn’t really matter how Lyf spent their spare time. If blood and worm guts caught Lyf’s fancy, then Marius was about ten seconds away from buying a worm farm. Worms could be cool. Very eco-friendly.

“Sorry,” Lyf said, waving a hand. “I just. . . the place I’ve been helping out has been dealing with a worm infestation, among other things. And I accidentally rainbowed a few of them, so they’ve been. . . stubborn.”

Well, who cared about worms anyway? Gross. And they’d been a bother to Lyf? How in the world was that eco-friendly? “And the blood?” Marius added.

Lyf grimaced. “I. . . may have thrown up.”

Was that meant to be reassuring? Because Marius, for one, was not reassured. Far from it. “You’ve been throwing up blood and you didn’t think to mention it?” he exclaimed, sliding into the seat next to Lyf and pulling out his emergency medical kit. If anything was an emergency, this was. “Does anything hurt, have you gotten struck anywhere, what have you been eating, are you okay–”

“I’m fine, Marius,” Lyf said, almost gently. They pushed the probing stethoscope away. “I promise, all right? Doctor’s orders have been followed. The blood’s a Bifrost thing, and. . . and it’s not mine.”

Slowly, Marius nodded. He tucked the stethoscope back away, leaning on Lyf instead. If he could listen to Lyf’s heartbeat for a while, that’d be just as good anyway.

“You know,” Lyf said, with a sort of forced lightness, “I’m surprised Mrs. Wilton hasn’t interrupted this conversation at all. She said she had some things to tell you. . .”

“We had a conversation,” Marius said, not budging from his spot leaning against Lyf’s chest. The couch may be comfortable, but the beat of Lyf’s heart was even more comforting. Even if it was a little bit fast. He made a note to check and make sure that Lyf wasn’t sick later, if they let him. “Similar sort of things. Making sure I don’t hurt you.”

Lyf’s breath stuttered for a second. “That you don’t hurt me?” they checked. “Marius. . . why is it that everyone’s convinced I’m so fragile? I’m–”

“Having multiple near-death experiences in the last few years?” Marius asked, trying to smile. “Made everyone believe you were dead?”

“I’m more worried about hurting you,” Lyf finished softly, and oh.

Marius couldn’t breathe for a moment.

Lyf had been worried about hurting him. That was. That was ridiculous, in the best of ways. Marius was immortal, and any wound would heal eventually, and all that.

“Like you said,” Lyf continued, still quiet, “you thought I was dead. And you were a prisoner, and I didn’t always believe you. If there’s one thing I’ve accepted over those dreams, it’s that you wouldn’t hurt me intentionally. You’ve. . . I still don’t understand why you didn’t warn me about the Bifrost. Why you didn’t make sure I got out. But I don’t think you’d hurt me as you are now. And emotionally. . .”

“I tried,” Marius replied, moving enough to look up at Lyf. “I tried to warn you, you know. I just. . . I couldn’t find the words, or the way, and you wouldn’t have believed me. And then I got knocked out and dragged to the ship. I tried everything I could, Lyf, believe me.”

“It wouldn’t have made much of a difference, if you had warned me,” Lyf said, and there was something else there, wasn’t there? “I’d have looked in the black box. The world would still have ended. But maybe more people would have lived. I. . . no. Now’s not the time for this.” They looked down at their face and something about it softened just a tinge. “I told you we’d talk, once you were on the same planet.”

Marius sat up once again, detangling from Lyf’s hair as he did. “Yes?” he said, feeling utterly breathless. By talk, that meant the kiss. That meant the world.

“I. . . I still don’t know exactly what I wanted when I kissed you,” Lyf said slowly. “Most days, I don’t know what I want at all. But whatever’s happening in the future, whether it’s preventing apocalypses or chasing down elder gods. . . . I think that I want you by my side for it.”

Marius stared at Lyf, and then tried to discreetly pinch himself. It hurt just as much as he thought it would, if not more. This’d be real, then. “Lyf,” he said, grinning in spite of himself. “There’s nothing I’d like more.”

Lyf returned the smile slowly. It looked right on their face, and Marius committed it to memory. He still hadn’t seen Lyf smiling nearly enough, and he was determined not to forget a single one. “And,” Lyf continued, “if you asked me out as a part of that, I would not be opposed.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Marius said fervently. “Lyf, if you have time between the worm guts and the outer gods, and would be interested in dinner–”

Lyf raised an eyebrow at him.“As long as you don’t wear that monogoggle. It has its charms, I suppose, but . . . not for dinner.”

“Done. And. . . kissing?”

“I would also not be—” Lyf began, but never finished.

It turned out kissing Lyf in reality, much like hugging them, was a thousand times better than the dreams, even if Marius got hair in his mouth again, and Lyf still had several fairly gross substances all over them. It was Lyf, and it was real, and Marius really wouldn’t have preferred it any other way."

Okay, so for the year anniversary, I opened up comments for some non-canon bits. I said if people didn't ask for something specific, they'd probably get something weird. I ended up doing a multi-part non canonical bit, which I love very much. You can hunt through the comments in the chapter for it, or you can enjoy it here under the read-more. Hope you like it! And hey, if you want to see more in this little AU story thread, comments are still open.

Part 1:

Marius wasn’t entirely sure what direction this day had taken, but he wasn’t necessarily happy about it.

“And who exactly are you?” he said, gesturing at. . . well, there was a lot to gesture at. The insanely curling hair, and the far too pointed smile. Usually, nobody else on the Aurora was supposed to be here. Usually, people knew better than to interrupt Marius when he was– not PINING, per se, but heavily considering how to talk to Lyf in the near future, or trying to figure out where Brenn might be. He’d retaliated enough to make them form the habit.

“You can call me Michael,” the creature said, and its smile deepened. “You must be Marius.”

“Yes, now you can stop bothering me. Go find Brian or someone. He’s probably not that busy.”

Well, that wasn’t entirely correct. Brian was just being annoying and not inviting Marius to whatever secret conversations were going on. Extremely rude of him. Marius could afford to be a little petty.

Instead of responding, Michael turned his hand, and a voice started echoing from nearby.

Wait.

Wait, Marius knew that voice.

““I know you’re not here,” the far too familiar voice said from the corner of the room, just past what appeared to be a yellow door, “but you know what, Marius? It would be so good to hear your voice right now.”

Marius, as it turned out, could run very fast when prompted. And Lyf, saying something like that? He didn’t care if it was impossible. He just wanted to see Lyf. He wanted to be there, and to say anything, and to make Lyf smile again, because they sounded so tired and upset and more than a little scared. If he could be there for ANY of it, then Marius was going to take the chance.

The door was locked. The door was fucking locked, and the creature in the center of the room kept laughing.

Slowly, Marius turned back to stare at ‘Michael’, who’d come up behind him.

“Open the door.”

“They’re not really here, you know,” Michael said, almost singsong. “They were there, though. And they talked about you, baron.” It reached down and tapped his nose lightly. “Now, if you hurt them–”

“If you know where they are,” Marius said, beyond frustrated, “then let me see them.”

Michael considered. “They did want to see you,” it said, twisting its hand once again. Once more, Lyf’s voice echoed beyond the door.

“I . . . I don’t even know if you’re real or not, and I still wish I could see you again. Pathetic, maybe, but. . . you made the darkness bearable, somehow. Nobody’s done that before. And you held my hand through it all, whether it was snakes or squamous things, or outer gods rearing their heads. And I just wish. . .”

Somehow, the doorknob still wasn’t working, and neither was trying to break through the door, no matter how long and hard Marius battered at it. Stupid, really. Michael had said that Lyf wasn't inside, but. . . but for all Marius knew, Michael had lied about that, and Lyf was in there, still tired and sad and wishing for him to be there. If there was one thing that Marius had learned from those dreams, it was that he always wanted to be there when Lyf needed his help. “What the fuck do you want from me?” Marius asked Michael finally.

“I just wanted to inform you,” Michael said, with an amused look at Marius’s efforts to break down the impossible door, “that if you hurt the inspector, you will have to deal with me. And I have ways to deal with even the most. . . stubborn of creatures.”

Then, it opened the door, stepping inside before Marius could. “Now, goodbye,” it began, but–

But Marius was still fast. And Lyf had been inside this impossible door. Maybe, if he went through it, he could find Lyf on the other side, no matter where it ended up.

It was a matter of seconds to stick his foot in the doorway, dart by a startled-seeming Michael, and make his way into the corridor.

Part 2:

“What are you doing here,” Michael said from behind him.

Marius just kept walking. “You know exactly what I want here,” he said, not bothering to turn. If he turned, then he had the feeling that the corridors would only get worse.

So, maybe entering the yellow door hadn’t been the best idea. The corridors seemed impossible, and they kept changing whenever Marius looked around, and there was nothing to say that any of this was meant to make sense at all. Quite the opposite, actually.

But then, there were two reasons that had Marius continuing to walk forward, no matter what Michael offered. The first was that Marius happened to be very stubborn. The second, though. . .

Michael knew Lyf. Knew Lyf well enough to have had some sort of echo of their voice on the other side of that door. There was no sign of Lyf themself so far, so Marius was assuming that it was probably some kind of recording, but if Michael knew Lyf, then that meant that Lyf was still alive, and that Michael could take Marius right to them. And Marius dearly, dearly wanted to see Lyf and know they were all right.

“And you think you can navigate my corridors,” Michael asked, and. . . well, that was a problem, wasn’t it? Marius might not be the member of the crew with the worst sense of direction (that honor still went to Tim), but whatever this place was, it seemed to completely define mapping.

“I can try,” Marius settled on. “Lyf deserves it.”

Michael was quiet for a bit. Good. Marius could use the quiet to try to figure out which corridor to go down. There were so many twists and turns, and if he just found the right one– well. Lyf had said they’d talk once Marius was on the same planet. Marius was looking forward to it.

“How did you meet the inspector?” Michael finally asked.

Oh, Marius could talk about that for days. He grinned. “I was a prisoner, and they were a police inspector, and they brought me and the others lunch one day, and they didn’t even blink at our mechanisms. Mentioned their sister, I think. She’s got a mechanical arm, same as me. Hope she’s okay.”

Michael blinked. “Sister.”

“Yes, Brenn. She’s. . . I don’t even know where she is, but she’s fantastic. And Lyf. . . Lyf was the best. It wasn’t quite love at first sight, but it was very, very close. I mean, they’re –”

Michael stopped walking, and after a moment, Marius stopped walking too.

“Go through this one,” Michael said finally, and they pried the mirror out of its frame with those very, very long fingers.

“What?”

“Go through this one,” Michael said, sounding testy, “and you will be closer. I will go find my sibling, and you can try to explain yourself to your inspector. A metal arm, you said?”

“Brenn? Yes, a metal arm, and she’s got rainbow freckles, and a bunch of curly– and you’re gone.”

Marius stared at the mirror frame, considering it. It might get him where he wanted to go, true. But it also felt very, very much like doing what was expected of him, which didn’t rub against him the right way after all.

Finally, he shrugged, and went through the mirror next to it. It’d probably be close enough, and if Michael had been lying the whole time, it only made sense to not go through the one Michael had pointed out. Trusting something that owned a place like this one just seemed like a terrible idea.

He emerged, oddly enough, on a London street. The door had apparently come out on an alleyway, and Marius could see a park nearby. And across the street. . . across the street was a flat building that only gave him a headache. It shimmered and blinked in the corners of his vision, and it only got worse if he looked at it head-on.

“You there,” a voice said from nearby, and Marius turned to see an older woman, arms full of groceries.

“Hello?” he tried.

“Baron von Raum, yes?” she asked, and smiled at him. “I’m Mrs. Wilton. Help me bring in my groceries, please? I think we should have a talk.”

Part 3:

Apparently, when someone like Mrs. Wilton said that they should have a talk, she meant tea.

In theory, Marius didn’t mind tea parties. He’d participated in several over the years, whether it was one thrown by the Toy Soldier with fancy hats galore, or something smaller from Ashes where the “tea” wasn’t anything of the sort. But in practice, right now . . .

Mrs. Wilton’s flat was in the strangest building Marius had seen in a fairly long time. The outside walls had chalk markings and what looked to be colorful glints, and looking at it for any length of time left him with a headache. As he’d gotten into the flat itself, well. . .

There were so many rainbows. Why were there so many rainbows? Was Lyf nearby, and if so, why was Marius wasting any of his time on drinking tea?

“So,” he said abruptly, putting his tea cup down. “How have we met before?”

“We haven’t,” Mrs. Wilton replied. She looked almost startled at the thought. “No, you rappelled past my window once, and one of your family members made all the right apologies.”

Marius frowned. He thought he’d remember rappelling past someone’s window like that. Sure, it was a move he’d pulled before, but. . . at a building like this one? Surely it’d have stuck in his memory.

Unless. . .

“When was this,” he began to ask, but Mrs. Wilton was faster.

“Now, what exactly are your feelings towards Lyfrassir Edda?”

Well. That was unexpected. How many friends had Lyf made that they just hadn’t mentioned in the dreams? They’d mentioned an Oliver and a Gerry, and Nastya to boot, but. . . surely they’d have mentioned if they’d adopted a grandmother at some point.

Then again, it wasn’t like Marius had told Lyf every detail of his life since they’d last seen each other in person. There had never been enough time for that sort of thing, and there were far more important things to try to say. Like explaining to Lyf that he actually liked them, or asking Lyf whether they were still single.

“I’ve been in love with them since. . . maybe the second time I saw them?” Marius said as honestly as he could, tapping his chin. “The first time was far too short to fall in love with a person, but I definitely wanted to get to know them better. And it was within that first year of knowing them that I knew I was in love with them, but I’d definitely– right. I want to be sure they’re all right, and to make sure they know how amazing they are, and if they wanted, I’d jump at the chance of staying by their side for the rest of immortality.”

Mrs. Wilton nodded slowly. “I thought so,” she said, and took another sip of tea.

“You. You thought so.”

“Well,” she said gently, “at first I was wondering who the young ruffian Lyf was complaining about was. You didn’t make the best first impression, duck, climbing out a window like that. But they’ve talked about you long enough that I got the shape of the story. Biscuit?”

Mechanically, Marius took one. “So. So they are alive.”

“Of course,” she responded, looking a bit startled. “I messaged them when we first sat down to tea. They should be at the door any moment. But first, I wanted to tell you that if you hurt them. . .”

“If I hurt them, you’ll come after me?” Marius asked, looking her up and down. It didn’t seem the most threatening at first, but then again, he’d seen enough grandmothers in his time to not take the threat lightly.

“I have my contacts,” Mrs. Wilton replied. She nodded to him. “And Lyf has their friends, too. I would be surprised if you did not end up getting more conversations like this one. They’ve been hurt enough.”

“Yes, they have,” Marius said softly, remembering Lyf over those dreams. The way Lyf’s face had broken into tears again and again, and the ways they kept getting hurt. “I promise, Mrs. Wilton, I’ll do my best to never be one of the things hurting them.”

“Good,” she said, standing up herself. “Because they should be at the door now.”

The door was in fact swinging open, and Marius could hear someone saying, “Mrs. Wilton? Your text was not the most precise, what did you need me for–”

And then there Lyf stood, feet away from Marius, staring at him, and Marius. . .

Marius managed a wave, and a quiet, “Hi,” before suddenly they were hugging, and Marius didn’t even know who had started it. All he knew was that he never wanted it to end.

#now we are derailed #the stars claim them #the au in which Marius gets shovel talks and then gets to kiss a Lyf #meanwhile in the actual fic. . . . yeah #the circus heist is going to be Interesting folks #no Lyf and marius content for a little bit #you'll just have to wait for it

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mysticalrambling · 3 years ago

Text

Kitchen Disasters (H.S)

The following fan fiction is based on this idea. I hope you like it because I definitely had fun writing this.

My Main Masterlist is here.

Harry Styles Masterlist is here.

Summary: Harry’s attempt at making Mother’s Day lunch.

Warnings: mentions of food and swearing.

._._._._.

What is he thinking? He can’t cook to save his life. Sure, he knew how to bake when he was a mere sixteen year old but now he simply can’t. Admittedly, you are the cook in this relationship.

‘Come on, man, you’ve got this. Get it together.’

With the mantra repeating in his mind, he gets to work. Thank god, you weren’t awake to see the disaster that was about to ensue. You would’ve had his head served on the platter instead of the steak.

Harry wasn’t here for mother’s day because he had to fly out to Italy for some dress rehearsals with Allesandro and Harry Lambert for his upcoming public appearances. You wanted to go with him but having a six month old toddler and a four your old pre schooler wasn’t exactly an ideal traveling situation. Handing Harry the children the moment he came back, you trotted off to your bedroom for some much needed sleep. If you knew having two kids would’ve been this stressful, you wouldn’t have allowed Harry within a six mile radius of you. Oh, who were you kidding, its Harry Styles. No one can resist that narcissist’s charm.

“Where’s the bloody pan? Y’shouldn’t have bought a damn mansion. Who needs one anyway?” Clattering of the silver is possibly echoing throughout the kitchen but he cannot bring himself to care. Harry’s main concern is finding the right utensils for his venture. You were going to get a steak, no matter what. You deserved a nice lunch for taking care of your children alone when it was both of yours’ responsibility.

The cabinets are thoughtfully organized because let’s admit it, you are a bit of a control freak. Rummaging through them really makes a mess but he is nothing if not a man on a mission. Once he finds the right cabinet, he jumps, forgetting he is six feet tall in all the excitement.

‘Ow! (Y/N) always told y’to close the cabinets. Y’should listen to her but please god, don’t let her notice this bruise. She’ll be t’smug.’

Taking out the frosted meat from the freezer, he dumps it right into the frying pan. The meat is already defrosting a little bit so he figures it shouldn’t be a problem.

‘Hmm, should I use the sauce pan instead, don’t want the oil t’spill.’

The transfer proves a little difficult when the steaks keep slipping out of the tongs and onto the marble tops.

‘These bloody steaks need a spankin’, I swear.’

The olive oil is thankfully right besides the stove so he didn’t have to go on another wild hunt. After spraying a generous amount into the sauce pan, he has one more task to achieve: turning the stove on.

Tick, tick

“Daddy, y’need to use the gun.”

“Huh, wha’?” There at the entryway, stands your mini replica with a slight frown on her face. The folded arms, the foot tapping, and the glare hauntingly reminds Harry of his wife. Maybe it would’ve been better if you had busted him. Atlas was a stickler for rules and cleanliness even at the mere age of four which is not exactly an ideal thing for the beloved rockstar. You aren’t the only woman that bosses him around the house. From the moment Atlas learnt to walk, she was already organizing her stuffed animals and having proper tea parties with her parents. She wasn’t the one to mess around with and now, right in this moment, she is definitely pissed off at the sight of the messy kitchen with the open cabinets and the cutlery haphazardly thrown on the floor.

“Y’gotta light it up, daddy.”

“But it’s electrical, pet.”

“Mummy lights it up w’this.” Handing him a gas lighter, she stares him right in the eyes with an annoyed glare.

“Th- Thank y’darling. Guess it’s not electrical, then.” He knew he wasn’t helping his case but he was breaking under her intense gaze. In the trials of parenthood, he has found nothing to be scarier than the glare of his four year old .

“Daddy, Arty threw her binky at me and woke m’up.”

Sighing, he turns the stove on and starts taking milk out of the refrigerator. He just knows that Artemis is going to be in one of her moods and that the nap hasn’t worked. Now, he has two cranky babies instead of one. Just great.

“Y’want a pouch, baby?”

The chubby finger came onto her chin because this was such a big decision. Well, it was a big decision for a four year old. “Applesauce, please.”

“Thank yeh for using your manners, darling.”

Atlas moves towards the living room with the pouch tucked between her puffy lips. Walking towards Atlas’s room, he was glad that he had put pillows around the bed for both of them because Artemis was rolling towards the corner. She has been mobile from the past one month and it has been one hell of an experience. Every single day, she tries to find new ways to escape her crib and injure herself in the process.

“Come on, li’l monkey. I bet you’re hungry.”

“Dadda! Dadda!” The feeling that comes with this one word has never gotten old and for this, Harry has only one person to thank: you.

“Yeah, ‘m your daddy. Come on, let’s get y’fed up.” Softly gazing at her as she peacefully sucks on her bottle, Harry thinks back to the first time he met you. A journalist running into him during the Grammy Awards. Harry has never been glad that his thousand dollar suit was ruined because he met you through that incident. You are still as feisty and ferocious as you were back then. Really keeping the relationship alive.

Seeing his little creation flapping her feet around and fervently sucking on the bottle, he starts his one sided conversation.

“It’s just tha’ yummy, li’l monkey.”

“I understand, I’ve tasted it as well.”

“Your mummy’s amazin’, isn’t she?”

“Love m’three girls so much.”

Time flies by when he is with her because she is a perfect mixture of both you and him. This little girl came into the world very early and there was a heavy chance that she might not have survived. However, she fought her way through this world and here she is, safe in his arms. To imagine a life without one of his girls is more painful than a knife stabbing at his heart.

“Daddy, somethin’ is burning.”

“What are y’talking about?”

“The smell, daddy.” Sometimes it really felt like she was the parent in this dynamic.

“Oh shit!”

“No cursing, daddy!” Correction: she is the parent in this relationship.

“Sorry, pet. Let’s go downstairs and see if mama’s lunch is alrigh’.”

Harry should be thankful that Atlas is listening to him today because she does not move from her seat while he tends to the charred meat. Artemis keeps looking at her father with curious eyes as he runs around the kitchen to find a cloth. He doesn’t want the fire alarm to go off and wake you up.

“Daddy, whatcha lookin’ for?”

“A cloth, baby.”

“Why?”

“For t’alarm.”

“Y’can open the window.” Halting in his steps, he does not acknowledge her statement and just goes to open the window above the sink. No need to give her the satisfaction.

’This meat can be salvaged. She’d just ‘ave to chew a li’l bit more.’

Next come the mashed potatoes because no one likes to serve steak without them. The only problem is that he didn’t know where the potato peeler is so he has to use the knife. Towards the end, there are not many potatoes left to boil. But they have to do because he is running out of time. Soon, the potatoes are boiled and Harry gets to working on them.

‘The potatoes shouldn’t be stained. Did (Y/N) use water in the mashed potatoes? I think she did. They’ll be t’dry without it.’

A whole stick of butter is thrown into the pot along with five tea spoons of salt. The pepper, on the other hand, is a totally different case. The container does not budge and he knows his trainer would have his ass if he could see the struggle right now.

The cap twists unexpectedly and the powder directly flies into his eyes. “My eyes! Oh, m’eyes!”

Running to the sink, he tries to open the faucet but he can’t open his eyes to see a damn thing. After several tries, the water starts coming but it doesn’t really help matters.

“Daddy, I don’t think y’should cook.”

“Thanks, pet.” He knows that a four year old doesn’t understand sarcasm but he can’t help himself.

When it doesn’t seem like his eyes will melt, he goes towards the stove and slowly starts working on the mashed potatoes. Safe to say, he is afraid of another disaster.

Hot potato, hot potato

Potato, potato, potato

“That’s our song, daddy!”

“Oh, that’s where I heard it.”

“Daddy, dance?” A small tradition between the duo is to dance on the Wiggles’ song. It has been there since she took her first steps and Harry silently hopes that it will never go away.

“Always, baby.”

Cold spaghetti, cold spaghetti

spaghetti, spaghetti, spaghetti

Spinning around the kitchen, he can’t help but look at his daughter with utter love and devotion. She is his second love after you and she made him a father. The feeling of holding a bundled up baby for the first time was an experience he still cannot put into words.

Whooo, wiggy wiggy wiggy

“Arty, y’can do this with dadda until y’start walking. You better do, pet.”

“I don’t think she cares, daddy.” Again, she is right. Artemis appears to be more interested in fitting her whole fist in her mouth rather than looking at them.

When he is finally done with cooking, he doesn’t want to focus on the fact that the mashed potatoes are still looking a little slimy. He will just call them his special dish. Everyone has their own unique dish. Taking the tray in his hand, he walks upstairs with Atlas hot on his tail.

I'm on the roof

You're in your airplane seat

I was nose bleeding

Looking for life, out there

Reading your horoscope

You were just doing cocaine

In my kitchen, you never listen

I hope you're missing me by now

He has been singing his songs for a very long time in the house so Artemis isn’t even phased by it. The moment he opens the door, he sees you leaning on the headboard with your phone in your hand.

“I was about to come down-“ You were cut off by your husband’s singing and you weren’t going to complain. A free Harry Styles concert? Who would say no to that?

If I was a bluebird

I would fly to you

You'd be the spoon

Dip you in honey

So I could be sticking to you

The small shimmy that he does from your door to the bed tempts you to make a video of him. He looked so good in his simple grey joggers with tattoos on display and slightly tousled hair. An epitome of beauty, if someone asks you.

“Hi, baby. What’s all this?”

“Just to show a li’l appreciation for my baby mama.”

“H, what is this?” Looking at the tray, you can’t help but wonder if the food is actually edible.

“This is food tha’ I prepared with m’sweat and blood.”

“Thank you, baby but this doesn’t exactly look edible.”

“Y’have to try it.”

When Atlas comes sits beside you, you realise that your other daughter isn’t anywhere to be seen.

“Harry, where’s Arty?”

A realisation dawns upon him and he exclaims sheepishly, “Oh, that’s wha’ I was forgetting. Be back in a jiff.”

“Till then I’m going to try this out.” A sense of dread fills your stomach as soon as you cut into the steak. It didn’t look well done but you thought that it’ll be okay as you liked it medium-rare anyways.

“This is definitely raw.” Spitting the meat out in to the napkin, you tried to wash the taste down with water.

“Here’s the bub.” Artemis didn’t look up as she was too invested in biting onto his shoulder with the single new tooth that had made its appearance known a few days back. Excitement seeping through his voice, he asked “How’s t’steak?”

“Are you trying to give me salmonella?”

“Darlin’, isn’t that a fish?”

“Harry, it’s a disease.”

“Oh.”

“Please never help our kids with homework.”

Dramatically, he places his hand on his chest in mock offence. Although, he isn’t ashamed to admit that you are the smart one out of you two.

“Try out t’mashed potatoes. They are m’own recipe.”

Looking at him with a silent wonderment, you voiced out your question, “Isn’t there just one recipe for mashed potatoes?”

“Oh hush.” Taking the spoon from your hand, he feeds you a mouthful.

“Harry, it’s too salty!”

“But-“

Cutting him off, she put the tray aside, she pulls him closer, “Don’t fret about the food. Thank you so much for doing this, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too. Let’s go out today and m’mum can take the bubs today.”

“Then maybe when we come home, you can show me your real appreciation.”

“Y’got yourself a deal.”

._._._._.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

A/N: So I have been working on this for a couple of days and @peculiarpenman and @pettinesspersonified have been helping me with it. A big thank you to both of them because they are the ones who do most of the work. I have been currently obsessed with Harry’s album so I added one of my favorite songs into this piece. Hope you guys love it!! Do let me know. Love y’all!!

Like, comment and reblog.

._._._._.

#rachelleblodgettwrites #my writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blog #harry styles boyfriend #harry styles fandom #dad harry styles #harry styles x wife reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #fluff #cooking #request #harry styles blurb

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olderjustneverwiser · 2 years ago

Text

I Burn for You, You Burn for Me (Steve Harrington)

Fictional boyfriends come and go, and I guess now it's Stevie's turn. Based off of Dermot Kennedy's new song Kiss Me, which is a phenomenal song, and everyone should go and listen to it.

Masterlist

Set after S4 Vol 1. Friends to lovers with a hefty dash of angst and hurt/comfort. Has this been done with Steve yet? Probably, but do I care? Not really because I love this fucking trope and no one will ever stop me from writing it.

Word count: 2.5K

Also, when did I start putting song lyrics at the beginning of every fic? Idk, it's who I am now I guess.

Enjoy!

Let this night invade my lungs, you're all I want to breathe Right beside the lake, I burn for you, you burn for me

So kiss me the way that you would If we died tonight

The ride home from the lake was quiet.

Too many exhausted bodies in the car and horrors replaying in the minds of you and your friends. No one wanted to speak, and it's not like Steve needed directions for where to drop everyone off anyway. The only words spoken were quiet goodbyes once he got to each house, the scared, tired voices of your friends breaking the silence at Nancy's house, then Robin's.

You had barely managed small hums of acknowledgement with each goodbye. The night had left you feeling broken, tears had threatened to fall since landing in the Upside Down and you feared that anything more would allow the floodgates to open. So, you stayed silent, tried to focus and keep your breathing regulated. Tried not to think about the pain from your inguries or the gash on Steve's stomach.

Steve drove right past your street and continued the drive on his own without even having to ask, he already knew where you wanted to go. His place was calm and empty; free of concerned parents asking too many questions neither of you could answer. You also really just wanted to be with Steve at this moment. He had always been your best friend, your safety net. Had been ever since you were both young and ignorant about what was going on underneath your town. Although he had been something more to you for quite some time now.

He didn't have to know that, though. He never said anything to make you think he thought of you as anything more, so you’d be damned if you’d be the one to bring it up and risk everything. You would just keep that little secret all to yourself even if it killed you.

You could feel his gaze on you as he pulled into his driveway. He was worried about you, that much was obvious. You had barely spoken a word since finding him under the water. Apart from screams of pain and a babbled, repeated mantra of "You're okay, you're okay" whispered into Steve's hair as you held him, you had been silent. Thinking. Replaying the awful scene in your head.

Steve flicked on the foyer light once you were both inside and the sudden brightness made you squint. The iridescent bulbs seemed too bright compared to the darkness you all had been shrouded in for hours. They stung your eyes, and you resented how they illuminated Steve's injuries. You were unable to ignore them in this harsh light or pretend that they didn’t exist. There were too many bite marks from those fucking creatures; too much dried blood and muck.

You turned your gaze away from him, but all that managed to accomplish was replace the current state of him with what you found in the Upside Down. You could still hear the sound the bats made as they clawed at his skin, still see them taking chunks out of him. Even worse, you could still feel the way your stomach sank as you saw him writhing, damn near dying in front of you.

Steve must have sensed your discomfort because he was at your side in an instant, wrapping strong arms around you and repeating your words from earlier in the night.

"It's alright, it's over for now," he said softly into your hair. “Hey, let’s go get washed up. It’ll make us feel better, yeah?” Even though all you wanted was to crash in his bed or into him, you were too tired to argue, so you agreed. The two of you went through the motions in silence, taking the stairs hand in hand, gathering towels and shampoo. Steve knew you didn't want to be alone so he gave your hand a final squeeze as he led you to his parent's bathroom, promising he'd be as quick as he could as he turned to go to his room.

Once in the bright bathroom, you turned the heat up on the water, shedding your filthy clothes and slowly standing under the hot spray, watching as swirls the color of rust flowed down the drain. The water scalded your skin and irritated your wounds but you scrubbed anyway, anything to get the feeling of that place off of your body. Your dirty fingernails scratched your scalp and you wished the memories of this awful night could be washed away as easily as the grime leaving your body.

They couldn't, and you knew that. It wasn't going to stop you from trying, though.

The truth was, the mental scars from the night would last far longer than the bite marks and rope burns that littered your arms, you face, your thigh. Steve being dragged under the water and his screams of anguish as those things bit at him were imprinted in your mind. Not to mention the sight of him being mauled in the Upside Down; the sight of what you thought was your best friend dying in front of you was sure to stay in the forefront of your mind. It was all you thought about in the car ride, all you could think about now in the hot steam of the shower.

Steve was here, and he was alive, but the feelings of despair and hopelessness still remained.

A loud knock on the bathroom door tore you out of your thoughts, no doubt Steve seeing if you were okay. You flicked the tap off, only to let Steve know that he didn't have any reason to worry.

Well, any more reason than he would normally have after a night like this.

"Hey, I left some clean clothes for you on the counter." Steve's voice broke through the silence that followed, "We should probably clean our cuts, too. No tellin' what those fuckers infected us with."

Your voice was scratchy as you yelled out an 'okay' and as you left the shower in reach of the clean clothes, you caught your reflection. It made you stop; you looked so much older than you actually were and you were sure that tonight's events didn't help your appearance. Not only did you look older but you felt older, in both your body and in your mind. Your group of friends had all gone through a lot; too much for your age, and it showed.

You shrugged the clothes on as quickly as your tired body would allow, knowing they were Steve's and that they'd bring you some semblance of peace. Just simple shorts and an old Hawkins High tee, but they smelled like his mom's laundry detergent and his cologne and shampoo.

They smelled like Steve, a safe place.

"You can come in, Steve," you called out while searching in his mother's bathroom closet for first aid supplies. When you finally found them Steve stepped into the bathroom, and the sight of him made you gasp. Dirt and blood no longer covered his injuries and his clean skin allowed them all to show on his skin. Angry pink and red bite marks on his arms, his chest. The awful mark on his neck from when he was choking. They made you sick.

If Steve noticed your staring he didn't say anything about it. He was too busy staring right back at you, guilt bubbling up in his chest because you were hurt because of him. Shaking his head after a beat, seemingly shaking the thoughts out of his mind, he grabbed the peroxide and cotton balls from you.

"Hop up on the counter, let's clean those bites," he ordered, voice low but soft.

"Steve, look at you. You need this way more than I do-"

"You really gonna argue with me on this? You're getting looked at first, Sweetness." You knew it was fruitless to argue with him when he was in his caretaker mode, so you did as he asked, your bones aching as you maneuvered yourself onto the vanity. This height gave you the perfect view of his face, his deep brown eyes. He was close, and you could smell mint toothpaste on his breath.

The closeness between you also allowed you to really study him as you had found yourself doing more and more lately. If you thought you had changed in the past few years, it was nothing compared to how Steve carried himself or treated those around him.

He was no longer 'King' Steve Harrington, resident asshole of Hawkins High. Somewhere between minimum wage jobs and losing fist fights and battling literal monsters, Steve had grown into a man. Sure, he was still Steve deep down, but he was once again the Steve you knew before he cared about popularity and his daddy's money. He cared about his friends more than how many notches he could get on his belt. Doing things by himself and for others was more important than skating by on his good looks and charisma. He was the Steve you fell for when you were both thirteen, before his shoulders got broader, his hair got better and he had his first kiss behind the school gym.

His expression was unreadable as his gaze fell from bite to bite on your face and arms. It was one you had seen him wear often around you but you could never figure out what he was thinking when he wore it. Sometimes it looked a lot like yearning; you were sure it mirrored the looks you saved for him, but you tried not to think about that too often. Thinking about it would only hurt your heart.

But before you could allow your mind to go there, he blinked whatever thoughts away and prepped some cotton balls for you.

"This is gonna sting," he whispered apologetically right before pressing it to your temple. The pain was instantaneous; a sharp sting that you felt right down to your bones and it made you hiss, your body tense. Steve grimaced as he moved from bite to bite, whispering apologies after every one and promised he’d be finished soon. His free hand flew to your knee to ground you, the warmth it offered spread throughout your tired body. It really wasn’t fair, this effect he’d always had on you.

"You really shouldn't have jumped in after me, y'know." He didn't sound angry as he tossed the used cotton into the trash, more like annoyed, worried. Scared and relieved all at the same time.

You still rolled your eyes, you’d expected this. "It's not like any one of us would have let you just stay under without going after you."

"It's just, you shouldn't have even been in the boat. I told you to stay behind with the kids."

"You really think I wasn't going to go with you?"

"You shouldn't have come with me," Steve sighed, rubbing at his face with his free hand. "All I'm saying is when you're there, keeping you safe is all I can think about. You scared the piss outta me tonight, I didn't think we were gonna make it out of that place. I just didn't want you to have to go through that again. Not ‘cause of me"

He had that look again; an almost pained expression as his eyes bore into yours and his grip on your knee tightened. The more you returned his gaze the harder you tried to decipher the way he was looking at you and the way he always looked at you.

In that moment, it felt a lot like the way you looked at him. It felt a lot like love.

A small part of your brain urged you to stop and think about your next words, but you were just so tired from the events of the night and tired of pretending that you weren't in love with your best friend. Tired of the 'what ifs' and 'will we evers'.

"Steve, you know what I was thinking after you got dragged under the water?" He kept silent, awaiting your answer. "All I could think about was that you were alone, and scared, and I thought you were dying. What would I have done if that was the final time I'd ever get to see you? I didn't even have to think about following you."

You took a breath before continuing, "I just did it because you're my best friend and I love you. I jumped in and fought next to you because I love you. I don't know when my feelings turned into something more, and I tried to deny them for so long, but I just can't." You finished, quickly before your nerves caught up to you.

He stayed silent for a second, shock and surprise enveloping his features. Apart from that he was impossible to read and for those first few seconds you waited with bated breath, worried that you'd just fucked everything up. But then his hands flew to your face, cupping your jaw in a way that was way too loving to be platonic.

"You love me?" He breathed out, searching your face for any hint of trickery he could see. Of course, he found none. All he managed to find was flushed cheeks, wide, hopeful eyes and love. And you had never seen him look so relieved, so content.

All you could offer him was a nod. You felt frozen; still terrified because Steve was your best friend and even though you had fought monsters together just hours prior, this is what scared you the most. The uncertainty, the fear that you'd learn he didn't love you in that way, that you would lose him because of this. But suddenly he was closing the gap between you, the smell of mint and his shampoo enveloping you and then Steve slowly, teasingly, pressed his lips to yours.

It was a desperate kiss, an, 'Oh God we almost missed out on this' sort of kiss that made your toes curl and your heart swell in your chest. Steve pulled away, pressing one, two, three more quick pecks to your lips before resting his forehead against yours. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he sighed, smile wide, looking as though you'd just given him the fucking world.

He kissed you again, then again, until you were both breathless and smiling more than kissing because you were both so full of love for eachother. In those few moments of bliss, the two of you didn’t think about the other world under your town or what was to come, only what was right in front of you.

The world didn't seem so dark and scary then.

"And in case it wasn't obvious, I'm in love with you, too."

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #st fic #dermot kennedy #joe keery #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst

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thegoosewiththemost · 2 years ago

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Proposal Headcanons

Summary: you propose to Beetlejuice. For @nak3d-snak3 . I ended up turning this into headcanons because my brain ain’t functioning, hope you enjoy!

- after a long while of being glued to your side, you realise that you don’t mind the thought of being together with BJ

- He’s the friend nobody asked for, but got anyway and he is damn good at being a great friend despite his tendency to talk more than he listens

- you figure it can’t be that bad to be married to him, seeing as you’re already practically a living like a domestic couple would

- he’s charming in his own capacity, like a puppy that’s eager to please when he wants to be, and fiercely protective of you when he isn’t which tickles your fancy in just the right way

- you also like that he is so very much himself, unfiltered and raw because you don’t need to guess what he’s thinking most of the time. He’s the type to wear his heart on his sleeve shamelessly and you can’t help but feel a little admiration for his brazen but genuine nature.

- he’s so lonely, you can’t help but feel sympathetic for him, especially considering his past traumas with his parents.

- despite trying to hard-sell you on marriage early on when you first met him, he had since laid off on pressing you after you got to know each other better.

- Eventually he gave up altogether and ended up becoming the best of pals with you instead which he figures is just as good because you’re someone who he feels he can trust and as a result you grow more emotionally intimate with each other, letting him get a taste of love in all its different forms without it just being based on sex and lust (which is what he thought love was before he met you)

- you decide you’re in fact more than ready to pursue an actual marriage with this guy after you enter into a tentative relationship with him and find that he is not any different to who he was before, if not a little bit more horny.

- There’s a distinct tipping point one afternoon as you lay in the grass beside him when you the realisation hits you like the full force of a bullet train. You love him so much that it feels like he has become a part of you.

- you pop the question one day when you’re about to fall asleep together, murmuring the suggestion quietly to him as you cuddle close

- “did I hear that right?” He thinks you’re joking or that he’s misheard you the first time, shocked by the calmness with which you repeat your question with. This is a big decision and he wonders if you know the significance of what you’ve just said.

- his hair pops pink. He’s drowning up to his eyeballs in love and affection and the feeling gets him high and light headed as he processes the meaning behind your words. You chuckle at the sight, teasing him lightly over his astonishment as you nudge into his chest.

- He admires the courage it takes for you to ask him, because both of you know that he would jump at the opportunity without question and so this proposal is without a doubt, an agreement from your end to say once and for all that you trust him enough to want to spend the rest of your life bound to him.

- He’s rendered speechless for once and instead chooses to kiss you to communicate what he can’t seem to say with words. His appreciation, his love and a promise of dedication.

- the kissing devolves into laughter that you share in as you both digest the commitment you’ve just made to one another. Neither of you are particularly serious people and you both indulge in the lighthearted banter that inevitably follows, with the noticeable change being that Beetlejuice holds you somehow even closer against him than you already were before.

- There’s brief talk of rings, and what you would each like to have as engagement rings and you decide to go out the next free day you both have to go shopping for a pair.

- he also starts crying, because he’s so happy and amazed that someone actually wants to marry him out of love without needing to be blackmailed into it. Love is something he never thought he would be able to find or be capable of himself and this has just proved him and (all the doubts his mother placed on him) wrong on all counts.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice x reader #musicaljuice x reader #musicaljuice #brightjuice #blumjuice

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farfarawayinthelandof · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! I saw you don’t have any miraculous stuff yet. Can I request a Marinette x f! reader. Reader is new to the school and quickly becomes her friend and Marinette doesn’t know how to react when she finds out reader has a crush on her. She realizes that she fell for reader while she was hanging out with Adrian. Please.

MARINETTE X FEM!READER ONESHOT

Thank you so much for your request(s)! I absolutely love this one.

fem!reader

warnings: none!

ੈ♡˳·˖✶

As the students of Francoise Dupont got into the routine of the new school year, there was a last minute transfer. That transfer being you, Y/N. You were full of excitement and nerves to finally be starting at a new school, thrilled to meet new friends, but also nervous, for fear of being left out. Your fears has faded away, however, when you met your new classmates, especially her.

Her being Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the class president tasked with showing you around for the day. She had a creative and talented personality, and a helping attitude, and every task, favor, and assignment never seemed to be a problem, or worry for her. You weren't sure if you wanted to be her, or with her.

By lunchtime, you had figured you wanted to be with her. You had also figured that half the class felt the same way, how could they not?

As you walked to the restroom at the end of lunch with Alya and Rose, about a week after you had first been introduced, they struck up a conversation about Marinette.

"You and Marinette are getting close? Should I have to watch my back so you don't replace me as her BFF?" Alya asks, with a light tone. Rose laughs.

You inhale sharply. "No! No, it's not like that! I would never! I-"

"Girl, relax." Alya laughs. You ease up a little bit. "I'm just teasing you. All the girls in our class are tight."

"Oh! That's nice to hear! I hope we can all be great friends."

Rose and Alya nod. "But anyway, about Marinette. You like her, don't you?" Rose asks.

'Was it that obvious?' You think woefully.

"I guess. But I know she likes Adrien." There was no point in hiding it. You trusted the two girls, and it was just a little crush.

Rose opens the door to the bathroom, holding it for you and Alya. As you thank the blonde, Alya speaks up. "I what it feels like to like someone who doesn't like you back. Nino used to have a crush on Marinette. Come to think of it, pretty much everyone in our class has had a crush on her at one point or another." Rose nods, laughing as she sprays some perfume on herself.

"Adrien?" You ask.

"That boy is absolutely clueless. His skull is *ahem* very thick. He's so dumb, for someone so smart." Alya says.

Rose agrees thoughtfully.

After your conversation with Alya and Rose, you return to your seat with newfound hope. Marinette must know Adrien is hopeless. Feeling bold, you come up with a plan.

ੈ♡˳·˖✶

Marinette had only known you for a few weeks, however, she had already felt a connection with you. She was really looking forward to becoming better friends.

On another note, Marinette had also made plans with Adrien later in the day. She had been looking forward to this project ever since she had been paired up with the young model.

Stopping at her locker, she noticed you walking towards her. You looked nervous. Had you forgotten your locker combination?

“Hey Marinette!” You said, voice masking the uncertainty you felt.

Marinette smiled, turning her attention towards you. “Hi, Y/N!”

“So, um… I was wondering - and I know this might be sudden - but I was wondering if you wanted to go out… together?”

To say Marinette had been taken aback would be an understatement. And while she liked the forwardness, Marinette had to turn you down. Who knows what could happen with Adrien tonight, even if he’s a bit clueless?

“Y/N. Listen, I… Uh, appreciate-”

You sigh. “Let me stop you right there. I understand. Hopefully we can still be good friends.”

Marinette sighed in relief. “Yeah, friends!”

You nodded towards Marinette, signaling goodbye. Well, you tried, right? And they say you miss 100 percent of the shots you don’t take.

The ravenette couldn’t help but feel guilty as she walked to Adrien. Why were you the only thing going through her mind when Adrien was right there?

This question had repeated itself throughout Marinette’s head all afternoon.

Until she realized.

Marinette felt a connection with you she never had with anyone else. It was a deep admiration, but not putting you on a pedestal, no. She saw you as real, and attainable. Unlike Adrien.

“Hey, earth to Marinette! You look a bit pale..” Adrien says, confused.

“Heh, sorry Adrien.” How was she supposed to face you tomorrow? Somehow, Marinette knew she blew it.

‘Oh, I’m no good at love!’ Thought Marinette, woefully.

The next day, you greeted Marinette as usual. But she couldn’t help but want more. And you couldn’t, either. But what were you two to do? Wasn’t any chance you two would ever be together destroyed?

After school, it had begun to rain. You sighed in defeat. You didn’t have an umbrella, and your parent(s) were at work. There was no one to help you. You tried to ask Alya or Nino for a ride, but they already left before you could.

Damn.

“Hey, Y/N?” Said a timid voice.

You turned to find Marinette, sheltered by the school’s roof, standing behind you.

“Hi, Marinette!” You say cheerfully. You are doing your best to make sure that your confession doesn’t get in the way between you two.

“If you don’t have an umbrella, you can use mine” She said, smiling nervously.

“Oh no, I couldn’t. My parent(s) will be off soon, I can wait for them.”

“Please… or at least walk back to my house until you can get picked up.”

You struggle for a bit. That did sound like a good deal. Plus, you could show Marinette that you could be friends and not make it weird.

“Alright,” you say.

“Perfect!”

You and Marinette begin walking to her house, talking about all sorts of things, like new video games, the best ways to bake cookies, and current fashion trends. The conversation flows naturally, never leaving an awkward moment between the two of you.

Marinette now knew 100% that it was you, not Adrien that she liked. Everything with him felt forced, but with you, it was all natural, and so fun.

You both walked into the bakery, Marinette holding the door out for you while you walked in. You greeted Marinette’s parents having already met Tom at a school function.

Marinette walks you to her room where you both spend the afternoon playing video games and procrastinating homework.

It gets a little quiet after Marinette wins the match for the hundredth time, and she looks over to you.

“I’m… sorry. I hope my rejection didn’t make things awkward for us.”

You smiled, albeit fake, reassuringly. “No, no! It’s totally fine.” Not really sure what else to say, you stop there.

Marinette looks down at her hands. “The thing is, yesterday… when I was at Adrien’s house, I realized that I…”

Your internal dialogue was going crazy. ‘Oh my gosh, does she not want to be friends?! Doesn’t she want to be more than friends?! Please, spill it out!’

“… I really like you” Marinette finished.

Your head spins suddenly to face Marinette, giving you whiplash. You cannot believe what you just heard.

“You… do?” To be honest, you weren’t even 100% sure she liked girls.

Marinette nods.

But now… everything has changed. You smile to yourself.

“Cool”

“Cool?!”

“Yeah,” You say. “Let’s go out. Right now.”

“Right now?!”

“Yes!”

Grabbing your shoes in coat, with Marinette en suite, she grabs the black umbrella, and you both bid goodbye to her parents.

“Alright, where to first?” You ask her, laughing.

“I think I know just the place.”

“Well then, please,” you gesture your hand out to her. She grabs it. “Lead the way.”

I tried to not make this too long/dialogue heavy. I hope you liked it!

no beta, we're dying like men

#mlb x reader #miraculous ladybug x reader #marinette x reader #reader insert #oneshot #fluff #angst with a happy ending #x reader #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #miraculous ladybug

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kiridarling · 4 years ago

Text

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐕𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

katsuki bakugou | f!reader, implied(ish) mafia!kats, choking, exhibitionism, cockwarming, riding, mild corruption themes, degradation, whore/slut!calling. minors dni!

— 2.5k words

"Listen, I don't give a fuck about your friend—I wanna get to know you better."

“Um, excuse me? Have you seen my friend?”

The ash-blond swimming in smoke stills, mid-conversation with some half-dressed woman to his right. In fact, all the half-dressed women snap their heads your way, all ten of them, sizing you up in your non-promiscuous dress and heels (not compared to theirs, at least) and obvious awkwardness and uncouthness. The ash-blond frowns.

“How’d you fuckin’ get in here?”

“Um,” you glance at the green-haired bouncer who let you through—he’s too busy guarding the entrance to notice. “I just pretended like I knew who you were and he...let me in?”

“Fuckin’ Deku,” the ash-blond groans, rubbing a hand over his face before tossing it over the back of the booth. “Whadd’ya want?”

“Um, I was wondering if you’ve seen my friend,” you repeat, hands fiddling with your bracelets as you crack under the pressure of all the eyes. “She’s um, kinda short with long brown hair. I don’t...it was hard to see the color of her dress in the dark, but I think it was purple?”

The ash-blond blinks as you fumble over your words, causing a second of silence where he does nothing but stare until he snaps, digging his cigar into the ash-tray with finality.

“All right. Shoo, ladies.”

The women surrounding the ash-blond whine and boo. He seems unfazed though, simply shrugging as he says:

“Gotta help this pretty thing find her friend.”

The women clear out quickly and quietly after that. And though you’re unsure why, many of them shoot very nasty looks your way as they pass under the neon red exit sign and into the chaotic club. They look like they want to kill you.

Anyways.

“So...does that mean you know where my friend is?”

“Nope,” the ash-blond says, popping the ‘p’ as he adjusts to the extra space in the booth. “But you get a solid fuckin’ view from up here. Sit.”

You nod and take the spot next to him, scanning the crowd below with narrowed eyes. You look for something, anything that could hint at where your friend could be, but wind up empty-handed.

"D'ya come here often?" he asks, and you shake your head.

"No. I mean, I heard the place is kind of new anyway, so," you shrug absentmindedly. You think you see your friend for a second, just catching a glimpse of brown hair, but once the girl turns, it's clear she's not who you're looking for. Dammit.

"Guess so," the man grunts. You hear him shift but you don't look. "The o—"

"Shoes, did you see her shoes?" You ask before realizing your thought process is light years ahead of his. He gives you a blank look. "I mean—sorry, they're like, really high stilettos with gold on the bottom. I think."

The stranger's angled eyebrows drop. "No."

"Dammit," you click your tongue, before turning back to the crowd. No...no...no...no...

"Listen, I'm not gonna sugar coat it—I don't give a fuck about your friend." He says with a sigh. Your head snaps to look at him because it doesn't matter if he meant it, that's rude, but your thoughts disintegrate into nothing as he grabs you by the chin and says, "I wanna get to know you better."

"Um," You swallow. He's close to the point where your eyes cross trying to put him into focus. "M-Me?"

"You," he confirms with a cocked eyebrow. "What, never been the center of attention before, Princess?"

You falter. Not like this.

"So," he continues when you don't respond. "What's your name, Princess? I'm Katsuki."

You give him yours and meet his hand halfway for a handshake, much too aware of how big it is compared to yours. Katsuki hums, both arms on either side of your being and ultimately, caging you to the booth.

"Y/N..." He repeats, experimentally, like he's trying to see how it fits in his mouth. You don't mind the way it sounds coming from him. "I like it.”

"O-Oh, um," you're unsure of what to say, so you do nothing but blush and place a hand to his chest. You try your hardest to hide your surprise upon feeling how firm it is. "Thank you."

"Don't gotta thank me for stating the obvious," Katsuki grunts, adjusting so his eyes are leveled with yours. "What do you like to do, Y/N?"

There's a hand on your thigh.

It sits right where your dress stops, and it burns—but you find yourself unsure of what you want it to do, whether you want it to go away or continue its journey up. And that's exactly what it does, as Katsuki thumbs the hem to your skirt and you try your hardest to focus on your reply.

"U-Um..." you panic, too much heat in his eyes for comfort. "I don't know."

Katsuki raises an eyebrow in faint amusement, "You don't know?"

"W-Well, I mean—!" You try after realizing how utterly empty-headed you must sound. Katsuki's chuckle diffuses your efforts fairly quickly.

"You're cute, you know that?" He says gruffly, carmine red eyes burning through the dark of the club. You suppress the urge to shrink.

"I—um, thank you," you flush embarrassingly red. Katsuki's eyes study your being for a moment, flickering up and down, and up again until he's tapping the side of your thigh twice.

"Sit in my lap, Princess."

He guides you using your wrist and for some reason you allow him to guide you into his lap, grunting as he nestles you on him comfortably as he overlooks the club. You falter upon feeling something...strangely hard. “What’s that?”

“My dick,” Katsuki grunts, almost absentmindedly, and yet the vulgar comment takes you so off guard that it nearly knocks the wind out of you.

“Oh.”

“‘S your fault for gettin’ me all worked up, Princess,” Katsuki’s hands find their way around your waist before they’re guiding your hips into rolling small, smooth circles against him. Katsuki’s back thumps against the back of the booth as he admires the view, groaning behind a bitten lip. “Told ya to sit still and you didn’t listen.”

You suppose that’s valid.

Plus, you’re enjoying the little groans he’s letting out—along with the sharp inhales when your hips dig harder into his.

“How um—how do I help?”

“Just keep sittin’ pretty, Princess,” Katsuki growls, and you nod, allowing him to guide your hips to his will. It’s a lot of movement, and you find yourself shying away from the balcony as he hikes your dress up to your waist—ultimately exposing the entirety of your lower half. Your goosebumps rise.

“What if people see?”

”They won’t. We’re too high up,” Katsuki soothes, rubbing a thumb over your ribcage as he hooks his chin over your shoulder. “And if they’re fuckin’ nosy? Let ‘em see. The sick fuckers will appreciate the show.”

Let them see. You shiver at that.

Katsuki’s running his hot hands all over your body and they make you feel nothing short of sexy, sliding them up the sides of your body until they curve over your breasts, and drop back down to your hips. They move as if they’re mapping out your body, trying to figure out what makes you tick and what makes you crumble, and you sigh along with the satisfying glide.

“Fuck...you have a better body than those girls ever will,” he groans, but you flush at the way he seems to say it more to himself than to you. “Fuckin’ perfect, fuck.”

“T-Thank you,” you flush, unsure if you were supposed to take the praise or not. Katsuki chuckles.

“So fuckin’ cute, too. You’re welcome, Princess.” His hands move from your waist to the sides of your thighs, tapping twice with open palms. “Squat.”

“Squat?” You confirm with furrowed eyebrows. Katsuki grunts and manhandles you to your feet with a sigh. There isn’t a whole lot of space between the booth and the railing, forcing you to fold over the banister with the cool thing pressing into your gut and your arms keep you from falling completely. You shiver from the cool air as his fingers hook around the fabric of your panties, and then you feel something hot kiss your entrance before Katsuki’s guiding you back down using your hips.

You’re full of him, immediately, and you struggle to hide a whimper as he wastes no time in bottoming out.

“O-Oh—“

“Never had somethin’ this big before, huh Princess?” Katsuki’s strained voice is the only evidence that lets you know he’s feeling good, and you’re tightening around him with a nod.

“N-No, definitely not.”

You have to rest your head against the buzzing railing to just breathe through it, to adjust, and Katsuki chuckles at your shuddering chest. He taps a steady rhythm that matches the beat of the music into your side but doesn’t move, and you find a strange comfort in the vibrating club, with the addition of something inside you providing a uniquely comfortable warmth.

"C-Can I—"

"No," Katsuki grunts, placing heavy hands on your hips to ensure you'll stay in place. "Find your fuckin' friend, first. Y'got a good view."

You whimper and nod, resting your forehead against the cool railing. Fuck—he fills you up too well. As you watch people live their lives down below, you rake your eyes through the crowd in search of a purple dress—and you come up empty.

"I-I don't even know if she's here," you defend, chest shuddering. Katsuki chuckles, though it's laced with something heavier.

"Really? 'Cause you were so fuckin’ sure about twenty minutes ago."

Katsuki's hand cracks against your ass—with a sound you're surprised no one heard over the music—and you yelp. "Dirty fuckin' girl, grinding back on my cock. Impatient girls get punished, you know."

You nearly moan behind a bitten lip. You weren't even aware you were moving.

“F-Found her,” you barely croak out, so relaxed your upper body practically drapes off the balcony. Katsuki snorts, leaning forwards so his mouth is flush against the back of your neck—you gasp from the adjustment.

“Prove it.” He grunts breathily, clearly in a similar condition.

“U-Um, the gold stilettos," you barely manage, and Katsuki hisses as you tighten around him to point down into the fray—lo and behold, there she is, in the middle of the goddamn dance floor with some guy you've never seen before. You...suppose you're in a similar situation. A better one.

"Good girl," the ash-blond coos. Shivering, your hips rolling on their own, but this time Katsuki lets them. You don't stop. “Fuckin’ choking my cock, shit.”

His hands get a little shaky and though it’s hard to discern through your own arousal, you take note of how thin his voice sounds, and continue to roll your hips in the way that makes him shiver. Katsuki starts to trail kisses up your neck which turns into a bite of your earlobe, causing you to hiss from the feeling.

“‘S good?” You ask—Katsuki’s chest vibrates against your back.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he huffs, guiding hands sliding down your waist. “Keep goin’.”

Not that you were planning on stopping.

Katsuki’s hands slide between your thighs to rub at your clit. You nearly shout, thighs seizing, and the ash-blond chuckles at your inability to stay quiet as if he wasn’t sliding a free hand up your dress to play with your chest.

“Dirty fuckin’ girl—you aren’t even trying to hide it now, are ya? Moanin’ in the club like a goddamn whore.”

You nearly choke at that, slamming a hand over your lips to muffle the sound. Not that anyone would be able to hear you over the club music, but still. Public decency.

Either way, your reaction has Katsuki chuckling, and he hooks his chin over your shoulder as he says, “You like it when I call you dirty, Princess? You like when I point out how fuckin’ filthy you are for me?”

You nod your head vehemently, now bouncing on Katsuki’s cock with a newfound enthusiasm—and you figure the slap on your ass is a signal to respond.

“Answer me, slut.”

“Y-Yeah, I do,” you whimper, and Katsuki’s hand crawls from your breasts to your neck, cutting off your oxygen supply in the best way. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, nearly gasping as you slur:

“Gonna—gonna cum.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock in the middle of a club, huh?” Katsuki’s chuckle strains from arousal and you’re positive he’s not that far behind. The hand on your clit speeds up and Katsuki curses as you tighten around him, teeth digging into the meat of your shoulder.

“Cum for me, Princess, fuckin’ do it—“

You squeeze around him with a shout before your orgasm comes over you, shoulders shuddering. Katsuki groans out a broken good girl before his hips buck and grip tightens around your waist as he cums, hands guiding your hips to ride both of your orgasms out until they finally come to a still.

You shiver as Katsuki catches his breath in your neck. Eventually, your racing hearts beat in time with the music and bodies cool enough to not feel so slick with sweat, and finally, Katsuki pulls out with a groan. He doesn't remove you from his lap, though.

"You good?"

You nod, fixing your hair in hopes that you'll look more put together than you feel. "Yeah—yeah I'm fine. You?"

Katsuki turns you in his lap to face him (though it does take some awkward clambering due to the limited space). He zips up his fly and you pull down your dress, the next steps about as uncertain as walking in the dark.

"Why're you asking me?"

"I dunno," you shrug, bottom lip poking out in indifference, "Pussy can take a lot out of a guy, I guess."

Katsuki's pale pink lips slide into a lazy smile, and he drops his head with a snort. "I—yeah okay. Sure."

"What?" You giggle, gesturing at his heaving chest before crossing your hands over yours with a huff. "You're out of breath, aren't you? I did all the work."

Katsuki chuckles at your petulance, shaking his head in defeat, "Y'got me there."

He rests his head against the backboard of the booth to give you a look. You can't put your finger on it, but you feel exposed nonetheless, and you struggle not shrink from it. He licks his lips, "You drink, Princess?"

"Depends," you shrug. The ash-blond grins.

"What do you like?"

"Shirley Temples," you giggle, coiling your arms around his neck. Katsuki's hands return to your waist and it's...comfortable. "Why, you wanna buy me one?"

Katsuki makes a face that signifies yes, he does, and you follow his eyes in peering towards the dance floor again. You see your friend exactly where you saw her last, and upon feeling eyes on her, she looks around to find yours. She shoots you a wink—you roll your eyes.

"What about your friend?" Katsuki snorts, lifting an eyebrow. You snort.

"I found her, didn't I?" You wink, standing to your feet to pull him towards the bar. "Now c'mon! Doing all that work made me thirsty."

click to return to CLUB 777.

#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 #CLUB 777 #The VIP Booths #Bakugou smut #bnha smut #mha smut

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myherowritings · 4 years ago

Text

PART 2. LOVE IS FAKE, MARRY A WEALTHY SUITOR

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.5k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. none in this chapter

A/N. thank u guys for all the positive feedback on this series so far and i really hope u enjoy this chapter too ! ^-^ xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

It seemed your subtle pleas to the gods to see the mysterious businessman again had been answered, since only the day after Shouto gave you a $100 tip, you saw him at the cafe.

You looked to the skies with a hint of suspicion. This seemed too easy— You were expecting at least a few weeks of your heart pining as you wondered where-oh-where your dreamy customer could have gone. But instead, after a mere 24 hours later, you saw him enter the store in a pair of pressed trousers and a light blue, button up shirt that was rolled just below his elbows.

Blinking, you drew your attention away from his exposed forearms. You knew he was attractive from your first encounter, but was he always this hot?

Sadly, you couldn’t focus too much on that since he had to get behind the line and obstruct himself from your view, and you had to take the order of the next customer.

“Hi! I can take the next person in line.” You smiled. “Good morning! What can I get started for you today?”

After repeating that five or so more times and starting a few drinks on hot bar, you finally reached Shouto’s place and, thankfully, there didn’t seem to be too many patrons piling behind him.

“Good morning, Shouto!” you greeted when he stepped forward to the counter. “How are you this morning?”

“Better now that I saw you.”

Your smile faltered as your cheeks heated up, but you tried to brush it off with a laugh. While Shouto had the definite looks of a so-called businessman playboy, his words held none of the flirtatious intonation as one might expect. In fact, he sounded like he genuinely meant it— Like he was only stating a simple fact and had no reason to be shameful.

It felt both like an attack on your heart and like a refreshing glass of water at the same time.

“How about you?” he continued.

“I could say the same thing,” you said with a chuckle, but you found yourself meaning everything you told him. Though you didn’t expect to see him again at the cafe so soon, you couldn’t deny the instant he walked through the doors, your morning felt just a little bit brighter. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon, but this is a pleasant surprise.”

Shouto had the decency to look a little bashful as he averted his gaze slightly. “Yeah. I…really liked the...cheese danishes.”

Surprised, a small giggle left your lips. “Don’t tell me you finished all three dozen of them!”

“Well…” He looked even more sheepish. “I didn’t exactly… I guess you could say that.”

“I’m glad you liked them so much you came back for more,” you teased, looking down at the pastries from the oven you just stocked. “Sadly, our fresh pastry today is a chocolate croissant. I can tell my manager to have cheese danishes made again soon though!”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll try the chocolate croissants today then. Maybe five dozen this time.”

Five multiplied by twelve… A whole 60 chocolate croissants? Were they all for him? You shrugged, not one to judge. If someone wanted to eat 60 croissants, so be it. Though you did hope he wouldn’t eat it all in one sitting. That might give him a stomachache.

“Alrighty, five dozen chocolate croissants,” you repeated as you typed it into the register. “And would you like any beverages with that? Another flat white maybe?”

“Actually, I’ll have a large macchiato with two extra shots of espresso this time.”

You nodded with a hum. “Long day ahead?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I hope the coffee and croissants can carry you through, Shouto!” you said, wishing his day would go by smoothly. “Will that be all for you today?”

“Thank you, Y/N. I hope so too. And yes, that’s it.”

“Great. $73.24 is your total then! Will you be paying in card again?”

He nodded.

“Go ahead and scan and sign when you’re ready.”

You busied yourself by writing his name and order on a large cup and starting the espresso pulls. Your manager was helping get the pastries and other orders ready this morning, so it was nowhere near as hectic as yesterday.

“Your order will be to your right. It was nice seeing you again, Shouto.” You smiled, giving him a small wave and already wishing you could hold the line up to talk to him longer. “See you tomorrow morning?” you asked almost hesitantly.

He returned your smile with upturned lips of his own. “Yeah. Tomorrow.” Before he left the counter, he pulled out another $100 bill—did he go to a dry cleaners to have his cash steamed and ironed? It was almost ridiculously crisp—and handed it to you. “A tip to show my appreciation for your service.”

“A-Again?” you stammered, eyes wide. That was $200 in two days from just his tip alone. That was more than you made in two weeks when you worked part-time! “Are you sure?”

Whether he had money to spare or not, this was incredibly generous of him and you would never have expected this amount from anyone. And it wasn’t like Shouto made it a scene for everyone in the shop to look at and gawk; he was subtle yet unashamed. Like he wanted to do it for no other reason than to do it.

“Of course. You deserve it for your work, Y/N.”

The customer behind him made an impatient noise and you winced. You wanted to be able to thank him more, but all you had time for was a simple, “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

Shouto nodded in response before walking to the other side of the cafe to wait for his order while you managed the other customers in line, a fuzzy but warm feeling lingering in your stomach from your bizarre interaction. Money or not, you enjoyed seeing him in the mornings and were already looking forward to your brief conversations that would take place the next days to come.

He certainly gave you something to look forward to amidst the inconsiderate customers who barely saw you as human every morning. Sometimes, that was all you could ask for.

When Shouto left the store and the line had died down towards the end of rush hour, your manager approached you with a curious look on her face.

“That guy named Shouto…?” Miyazaki said.

You nodded.

“A friend of yours?”

“You could say that… We just met yesterday’s morning shift,” you said as you finished up the green tea latte for one of the remaining stragglers from the last hour’s boom. “But he’s really friendly I think.”

“You only recently became associated?” she asked, lifting a brow. “It seemed like you two were quite chummy today.” Then, nudged your side. “He was rather attractive don’t you think? And rich-looking.”

Fumbling with the lid on the beverage, you stifled a surprised cough. Sure, you got along with your boss and thought she was one of the more understanding and kind individuals you have worked under, but gossiping about the looks and potential income of a customer with your 56-year-old manager was not on your bingo sheet as a worker here.

“I…” You called out the order for the latte before turning back to your manager. “He is.”

“Ooh, he’s rich?”

“I meant he’s attractive!” you sputtered, feeling abashed at her blunt words. You thought of the tip he gave you in your pocket and his orders of dozens of pastries. “Rich…maybe so. Not that it matters!”

Miyazaki tsked. “Of course it matters! Marry rich and your life will be easier. That’s what my mother told me and what her mother told her.” She shook her head. “Should’ve listened.”

You laughed, feeling only a little awkward. It wasn’t the first time you heard that sentiment from someone older than you. It wasn’t uncommon for family members or even workers you were close to to share that same advice—if you could even call it that.

While you agreed money could make a lot of things easier, marrying someone for wealth didn’t appeal to you. But you recognized that even that may come from a place of privilege to be able to say.

“He seems like a wealthy suitor for you, yes?”

“Suitor—?” you choked out. “No! I mean— We just met! We don’t know anything about each other really.”

She sighed, “Young people and their obsession with marrying someone they ‘know’ for true love. When do you really know someone anyway?” Waving a hand she changed the topic. “But enough of that. What I wanted to say was next time that man comes in here, we can offer him a complimentary box of a dozen pastries— Since he’s spent so much in so little it feels like the right thing to do.”

“Sure. A complimentary dozen.” Finally. Work. A topic you felt much more comfortable talking about. “That, I can do.”

“And then maybe offer a hand in marriage while you’re at it.”

“Mrs. Miyazaki!” you gasped, feeling only mildly affronted.

“I joke.” She ruffled her hair and smoothed down her apron. “I’m going to make more pastries now. Can you hold up the front?”

“You can count on me.”

“I know I can. Thanks for your hard work!”

And with that, she headed to the backroom where the kitchen was to leave you alone with your thoughts in a quiet cafe. Rush hour ended so there were only a few customers trickling in, most much kinder and more pleasant to talk to than the bustling businessmen of the earlier shift.

Throughout your small conversations with the patrons, you found yourself thinking back to two things— One, how interesting traditional values and teachings in collectivist cultures were and questioning where you fell into place with them, and two…wondering about Shouto.

Tomorrow, he had said before he left. You’d see him again tomorrow.

Oddly enough, you were looking forward to it more than you’d like to admit.

— ✩ —

It was the fifth day of the week, the fifth time he had seen you at the cafe, and he was already tempted to see you again. Would it be invasive to get another pastry after work? Would you even be there working at that hour?

Shouto saw you this morning (along with all the other mornings before that) and yet he couldn’t quell the pull he felt towards you with only the short interaction time you had together. But he would take what he could get without being weird.

He had been told in the past he could be too forward and dysregulate his feelings and scare people off, and that wasn’t something he wanted to risk with you, though he was certainly much better at it now with learning and practice. If he was reading things correctly, you at least seemed to enjoy seeing him during your shift.

“You got more pastries, sir?” an employee from the medical supplies sector asked him gleefully. “I swear they get better each time!”

Shouto nodded with a smile. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll be sure to relay your compliment.”

With the dozens of pastries he’s been ordering from your cafe (each order seeming to grow every time he visited after realizing just how much his employees enjoyed it), he would place them around the breakrooms and staff kitchens in the establishment. Those areas were always fully stocked with drinks and sandwiches and chocolates in case anyone needed a little boost, but nothing seemed to bring as much comfort as freshly baked pastries did. And a different baked good almost everyday seemed to give people more to get excited about.

He owed it all to your sales’ pitch and blinding smile that made him want to buy it. And your personality, of course.

His Personal Secretary had started to wonder why she no longer was tasked with his early morning coffee runs, and Shouto had to find a way to answer without saying it was because there was a barista he wanted to keep talking to.

Not even he was that shameless.

The first time, his PS had just called in sick and Shouto decided he might as well head to a cafe himself for the first time in a while. He worried he might have been rusty while ordering, but you did such a good job at being welcoming and guiding the transaction that he found himself actually enjoying it. (Enjoying you, maybe. But it was too soon to admit that.)

And now, after that initial meeting, he decided it was worth half an hour of his day to give his PS some early morning break time and visit the cafe himself.

It was worth it so much, in fact, that the next morning on a Saturday, despite most of his employees being given the weekend off, he still went to buy some coffee and pastries.

“Good morning!” an older lady called as he entered the front doors. Shouto had seen her assisting in shifts and baking pastries when you were busy working the cash register. “What can I get started for you today?”

He looked around the store—relatively quiet compared to the rush hour during the weekdays—and to his disappointment, saw no sight of you.

The current barista laughed, seeming to read his very thoughts. “Looking for someone? Y/N perhaps?”

His gaze shot up, feeling like a kid getting caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to by his guardian. Cautiously, he gave a small nod.

“‘Fraid they have the weekends off, actually,” the lady—her name tag read Miyazaki—said. “But don’t look so down, they’ll be back on Monday morning to greet you with a smile.”

He nodded again, feeling his face heat up. Was he that transparent or did Miyazaki just know too much? “Thank you, ma’am.”

She chuckled, waving him over. “No need to be so formal. Now, is there anything I can get for you? Or were you just visiting in hopes of asking our dear Y/N out?”

“No— I…” Shouto felt himself averting his gaze. “I’ll order something.”

At his apparent discomfort, her mischievous gaze softened. “Of course, hon. Sorry for teasing too much. I was just excited seeing how adorable you and Y/N were.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, that’s not my business. Anyway. What can I get started for you?”

He asked for a macchiato and a couple dozen of today’s pastries, paid, and tipped. (Though, it was initially met with a blatant rejection. He didn’t take it too hard; he knew some older members of society thought of tips as insulting and he’d never force anyone to take a tip if it made them feel bad. But after offering again, she thankfully accepted it.)

When he left the cafe, although the exchange was pleasant enough, Shouto still found himself disappointed he wasn’t able to see you.

At least he had something to look forward to next Monday morning, though part of him wished the day would somehow come sooner.

a/n: hope u enjoyed miyazaki’s words of wisdom u.u FHKDF i’m totally kidding, but if ur asian like me then u kNOW what convos like that are like omg ,, just had my mom and two grandmas tell me that recently :’/ kskskfd but anyway i hope u enjoyed this chapter and liked seeing a glimpse of shouto’s thoughts ;3 tysm for reading!

what to expect in the next part:

more shouto and y/n :>

maybe some ~flirting~ pfft idk idk u.u

some minor...misunderstandings

“hello, zuko here” vibes

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 4 years ago

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Words: 2,952 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: The prison (Season 3) Warnings: language, that's it! A/N: Kintsugi, aka "golden joinery" is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with precious materials like gold and it is strikingly beautiful. I think you'll understand why I titled the fic this at the end! Summary: After Daryl leaves with Merle, he return to the prison to find that Y/N is extremely angry with him...

Your name: submit What is this?

Your face went through a rapid series of emotions as soon as his familiar broad shoulders came into view. First was shock and surprise, and then relief to see him again and to see him in one piece, and then just... anger. Daryl shifted his weight anxiously from one foot to the next, watching over everyone crowded around him as you simply stood up and turned your back on the room and left. You walked straight out and into the row of cells, disappearing through the heavy metal door. Daryl caught Rick’s eyes and the sheriff simply tilted his head and gave Daryl a knowing look. Daryl’s attention was pulled away as Carol grabbed him into a tight hug.

He was surprised when you didn’t come back out to join in the discussion of what the hell to do next about Woodbury and the Governor. He worked up the courage to try to talk to you, knowing full well it may just be an exercise in futility.

You easily heard the familiar cadence of his steps approaching your cell and the doorway darkened as his frame stopped in the space. He gripped the edge of the cell door and anxiously chewed his bottom lip.

You were sitting on the edge of your bunk, determinedly not looking at him. “Go away, Daryl.” Your voice was quiet but there was an unfamiliar edge to it.

He shifted uncomfortably but didn’t leave. “Just—would ya just talk to me?” he ventured. He saw the muscle in your jaw tense as your teeth clenched. “What is there to talk about?” “I—’M back now. I came back,” he said. He felt sick. He wasn’t used to you being angry with him and it was completely twisting him into knots. “Yep,” you said, standing and going to the doorway. You pulled the hanging sheet in the doorway, a makeshift door, closed right in his face. “Leave me alone,” your voice came out from the cell and then he heard the springs of your bunk creak as you sank back down on it. He stepped back from the fabric and dropped his hand from its grip on the doorframe, heaving a heavy sigh. Carol stepped out of her cell, just a few doors down and looked at Daryl staring at the closed sheet in front of him. He turned at the sound of her soft footsteps. Carol’s brow was furrowed low over her eyes and she tilted her head in the direction of the staircase that climbed to the second level. Daryl’s hand clenched and unclenched in a fist and he gave your cell one last parting look before turning away to follow Carol up the stairs. She peeked at Judith in her makeshift bed and smiled. Daryl stopped beside her and looked down at the little sleeping bundle. His heart warmed at the sight of her, but his expression was still dark. Carol glanced over at him. He chewed on his bottom lip anxiously again. “She won’t even talk to me,” he drawled. “Give her a little time,” Carol said gently. “She’ll come around.” Carol sounded very sure of her assertion, but all Daryl could think was that he’d ruined things for good. “I came back,” he said, leaning back against the railing. His heart was aching with regret. Going off with Merle was stupid in the first place. Almost as soon as he’d done it he knew it was a mistake. “You being back doesn’t change the fact that you left in the first place,” Carol pointed out. “You really think she doesn’t have a right to be upset? Think about how she’s interpreting you leaving.” He gave her a questioning look. Carol straightened up and stared at him. “I understand why you did what you did. He’s your brother. He’s blood. But you leaving with him... to her it means she wasn’t worth staying for. You chose Merle, a racist asshole, over all of us, and right when we’re sitting on the edge of war against the psychopath Merle worked for. I know that isn’t really what happened. It’s not that simple, but that’s what it feels like. She thinks you leaving means that... whatever there is between the two of you wasn’t worth anything. It wasn’t enough to make you stay.”

He gulped and shifted uncomfortably. “But that ain’t true...” Carol shrugged. “That’s how it seems to her.”

Daryl ran a hand over his face and sighed again. “I really fucked up,” he growled. The grit and gravel in his voice was heavier than usual. “You did what you thought you needed to do,” Carol said, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. “Just give her a little time. She’ll cool off.” But the rest of the day, you stayed in your cell with the doorway covered. Daryl hung around hoping you’d step out so he could try to talk to you again, try to apologize and explain. He was sick with regret and guilt and worry, but you never stepped out. “Who’s on watch tonight?” Daryl asked Rick. He was thinking about offering to stay up and take both shifts because there was no way he would be sleeping that night anyway. He was too anxious. “Y/N first and then Glenn is taking the second shift. He gave Daryl a knowing look. The archer looked miserable. Rick sighed. “I’m just glad you’re back,” Rick said.

Daryl nudged his nose up in nod. “Yeah... thanks...” You’d be on guard first. You wouldn’t be able to hide in your cell forever. You could, however, still tell him to fuck off, but he had to try. Just waiting around was agonizing and he kept thinking about how in this world even the next minute wasn’t a guarantee. He had to make things right as soon as he could.

Night fell and after scraping together his courage, Daryl got up, knowing you’d be in the guard tower by now. He went to the little stove and heated up some water, pouring it over a tea bag in a mug and staring down at it. Yeah, bring her tea, dumbass. That’ll fix it. But regardless of that derisive voice in his head, he grabbed the mug and headed out to climb the narrow stairs of the guard tower, curls of steam wafting off the surface of the amber liquid. You turned when you heard the metal door from the stairwell creak open, thinking maybe Glenn couldn’t sleep and was coming to keep you company early. Instead you saw the broad shoulders of the archer coming through and you turned away and fixed your eyes on the darkness blanketing the prison yard. “What?” you asked sharply. Daryl gulped. Obviously you hadn’t cooled off enough yet. “I just—uhh.” He rubbed his hand awkwardly over the back of his neck. “I brought ya some tea,” he drawled. You kept your back to him and said nothing. He edged closer and set the tea in front of you on the table. It was then that he noticed the bandage on your upper arm. He hadn’t noticed it before, probably because you’d been wearing a jacket. Without thinking, he reached out and gently grabbed your arm. “What happened?”

You glanced at his hand on your arm and then up to his blue eyes. You felt your resolve crumbling as soon as your eyes met his. It was like some involuntary reaction you had no control over, but you tugged your arm from his grasp and shifted away from him, averting your eyes back toward the outside again. “I got shot,” you said. “What?” he urged. “The hell ya mean ya got shot?”

His voice was tinged with deep concern. “By one of those Woodbury assholes. You know, when you were off running around with Merle,” you replied. Daryl’s stomach twisted. How could he have been so stupid? If he’d been at the prison where he was supposed to be he could have protected you. What if it hadn’t just been your arm? He hadn’t even said goodbye to you... he’d just left. The hell was he thinking? You must have sensed his sudden panic because you looked over at him again and studied his face. “It’s just a bullet graze, Daryl.” Your tone was flat this time, but it was an improvement over the previous anger. “I’d rather be alone,” you said quietly. You hesitated. “Thanks for the tea.”

He gulped again. This distant tone you had was eating him alive and he felt his blood pressure rising. “Would ya just look at me at least? Gimme a chance to explain!”

You were a bit taken aback by his tone, which was now a little angry too, and you did turn to stare at him, your brow furrowed heavily now. “Explain?” You scoffed. “What the hell is there to explain? You made your choice. Your priorities are pretty damn clear. So, just—just leave me alone...”

“Nah,” he growled. “Not ‘til ya listen to me.”

You glared at him and he watched the muscle in your jaw tense as you clenched your teeth. “Actions speak louder than words, Daryl.”

“I fucked up, alright? I ain’t denyin’ that! I wanted to come back as soon as I left!” he roared. “‘M sorry!” “Sorry?” You stared at him, bewildered. “You’re sorry,” you repeated. “Yeah, well, so am I. Sorry I was stupid enough to think that maybe—” You broke off and shut your eyes, breathing in a tense breath. “That maybe what?” Daryl pressed you.

“That maybe I actually fucking meant something to you!” you yelled. There were angry tears in your eyes now and you fought to blink them away. “But if you could just leave then clearly I’ve deluded myself, because I could never do that to you. So, I guess I don’t know what this—” you gestured to yourself and then to him, “—is. Was. Whatever... apparently it’s nothing.” The archer stared at you feeling like his heart had split open. “That ain’t—that ain’t true. And it wasn’t that simple. S’not that simple.” He took a hesitant step toward you.

Your jaw was still set. “Forget it. You don’t need to explain anything to me. It’s not like we were.... together. I was stupid to read into anything. I’m—I’m done. I’ll just send Glenn up later,” you murmured, trying to storm out of the guard tower, ready to race down the stairs and leave the whole mess behind you. But Daryl’s hand gently caught you as you tried to move past him, landing lightly but firmly on your arm.

“Nah. Don’t do that! Don’t just—just dismiss this!” he growled.

You stared up at him, caught off-guard by his hand on you, by him physically stopping you from leaving. You were trying to think of something to say but your mind was suddenly blank. His hand finally dropped from your arm but instead of backing off he stepped closer to you. “This ain’t nothin’!” he argued. “And ya weren’t kiddin’ yerself. Now just stop bein’ so damn stubborn and talk to me!” You felt your resolve crumbling a little. “I—I don’t have anything else to say!” you retorted angrily. “Now let me by!” You tried to brush past him again but he stepped right in your way. “Daryl,” you growled. “Get outta the way.” “Nah,” he said shaking his head. “Ya wanna be stubborn? Fine, but so will I.”

“Move!” you yelled at him again, feeling a flush of angry heat in your face. “No,” he said again, this time catching your eyes with his blue ones.

Your chest was heaving with angry and nervous breaths. “Let me go,” you said, and this time even you were surprised by how weak your own request sounded.

Daryl stared down at you, his posture defiant, obstinate. His heart was absolutely racing in his chest and he finally couldn’t suppress the urge any longer. He clasped your face in both hands and kissed you urgently, something he’d wanted to do for so long, but even more so since he’d tried to leave. It was all he could think about. A moment later he was sweeping you into him with a hand on your lower back.

You let out a noise of surprise and stumbled back, away from him, staring at him standing there with his chest heaving. “Wh—what the hell are you doing?”

Daryl gulped. Oh shit. Had he just fucked things up worse? He gestured vaguely with one hand. “This ain’t nothin’,” he drawled, breathless from his lips on yours. He stepped toward you cautiously again, half expecting you to move away or brush past him for the exit, but you didn’t move. He anxiously licked his lips, and you felt butterflies flit to life in your stomach. “‘M sorry,” he said again.

You stared at him, a quizzical expression on your face. You wanted his lips on yours again. “Say it again,” you said softly. You stepped closer to him.

Daryl stared down into your eyes. The regret in his was plain. He slipped his fingers into your hair and clasped your face again. “‘M so sorry. I ain’t ever gonna leave again if I can help it.”

Your expression softened and you grabbed onto the front of his vest and pulled his lips down to meet yours, kissing him heatedly. Daryl’s hand landed on your lower back again and he pulled you against him, pressing forward so you were touching practically from knees to nose. His kiss was urgent, feverish. He pressed into you and you moved backwards blindly until you felt the table behind you. Daryl’s strong hands lifted you, setting you on the edge. You looped your arms around his neck and gently bit at his lower lip, eliciting a chesty growl from him. His hands wandered over your back and smoothed down your sides, feeling the curve of your waist and angles of your hips. They wandered down further and ran over your thighs, sending tingles of electricity up your back. You tugged him into you more tightly, feeling his hips pressing into the inside of your knees as you sat on the table. You slid a hand under his vest, around his back, and scratched your nails over the thin cotton of his shirt, feeling his strong, tense muscles beneath the material. He pulled back from you suddenly and your eyes opened, long eyelashes fluttering, disappointed and feeling the inches between your lips profoundly. “What is it?” you asked him, completely out of breath. He just stared down at you, not lifting his hands from your hips. “Nothin’. Just tryin’ to convince myself this is really happenin’,” he drawled, his eyes flitting between yours and your partially parted lips.

You ran your fingers through his hair and he leaned into your touch. “It is.”

He looked suddenly nervous again. “Listen, I still wanna tell ya... I can’t entirely explain it. I know Merle’s an asshole. Of course I know that... But he’s my brother. And it was almost like I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I’d already left him once in Atlanta. I couldn’t do it again.” Daryl rushed on, still in vague disbelief that somehow you’d gone from yelling at him to kissing him in a span of a few minutes. “But as soon as we were alone out there... I realized he might be my brother but he ain’t really my family anymore. Maybe he never was.”

You gulped and nodded, pressing your hand flush to his chest and feeling his racing heart beneath your fingers. “I’m sorry I was so hard on you,” you said regretfully. “I was just—hurt.”

He nodded. “I can’t blame ya. ‘M sorry.”

You looped your arms around his neck again and he gave in to the gentle tug easily as you pulled his lips back to yours. The heat built between you again and you let out a small sigh as Daryl’s lips wandered from yours to kiss your neck and the delicate skin by your collarbone, his fingers tangling roughly into your hair. You found yourself arching into him more and more and Daryl was reeling as your fingernails lightly scratched his back, even over the fabric of his shirt. But the building heat was quickly quashed by the sound of the squeaky metal hinges on the door to the stairwell and both of you startled. Daryl spun around and you jumped up from your spot on the table, accidentally knocking the mug of tea to the floor, which of course shattered and sent liquid splashing everywhere. Your entire face flushed as you saw Glenn standing in the doorway with a surprised look on his face, one hand still on the doorknob.

“Uhhhhh... sorry,” he mumbled. But his face quickly broke into a grin he tried to stifle. “I’ll just—I’m gonna go,” he said jutting a thumb back over his shoulder, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. Daryl shifted uncomfortably next to you. Glenn turned on his heel and headed right back down the stairs and into the cellblock again.

Rick, unable to sleep with the threat of the Governor still looming, caught sight of him returning and gave him a questioning look. “I thought you were on guard duty now?” he asked curiously. Glenn smiled and laughed a little awkwardly. “Uhh, yeah, but uhh—Y/N and Daryl have got it,” he said, his eyebrows lifting. “Y/N and Daryl? Isn’t she still pissed at him?” the sheriff asked, looping one thumb into his pocket. Glenn laughed again. “I’m pretty sure they made up... Night, Rick.”

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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delicrieux · 4 years ago

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand)

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it.

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge.

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too.

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view.

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”.

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

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“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute.

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets.

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

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An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance.

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?”

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over.

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

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You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae.

looking hot, her message read.

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse social media au #corpse husband fanfic #social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #corpse husband fic #reader #xreader #imagine #imagines #myso #make you say oh

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pies-writes-and-more · 4 years ago

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allergic to you

Word Count: 3, 713

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x High School Age!Fem!Reader

Warnings: some swear words I guess, but as per usual, it’s just fluff from me.

A/N: Guess who’s finally joined another fandom lol hello Haikyuu fandom! Pls be kind, it’s my first time writing for this fandom but I am in love with Karasuno boys, it’s problematic. Anyways, please let me know if you liked it! Sorry if I didn’t quite capture him the way other writers do haha. Also, Y/N = Your (Last) Name, just cause typing Y/L/N is exhausting lol my b

(Not my gif, credits to the original creator!)

Yamaguchi was trying his very hardest not to laugh, his hands clasped together in front of his lips to stifle his giggles as the tall blond boy he had known for years just looked at him desperately.

“It’s not funny,” Tsukishima’s lips formed into a frown (almost a pout), looking away from his friend nervously. His fingers played with some chopsticks, poking at his uneaten lunch.

Yamaguchi had never see Tsukishima Kei nervous. Volleyball games? Totally calm. Math class? Easy. Exam season? Piece of cake.

But put Tsukishima near a girl? No, scratch that. Not just any girl. Put Tsukishima near Y/N? It was all over for him. Suddenly, this 190cm tall boy wanted to shrink small enough to run away and not be noticed.

“It’s a little funny, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi insisted, finally letting out just a tiny chuckle that he just couldn’t hold back. “I think you’re overreacting. Just a bit.”

Tsukishima’s eyes turned back to the other boy, staring at him as if analyzing him, “How could I be overreacting? I’m telling you, I’m allergic!”

Yamaguchi was really trying his best to be supportive, knowing that talking about things was already hard for Tsukishima, especially when involving a particularly cute girl. “You think... you’re allergic... to Y/N,” Yamaguchi retorted slowly, repeating how Tsukishima started this convo with.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Tsukishima scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Obviously it’s some product she uses or something,” his nose scrunched up slightly as he tried to think of what it could possibly be. “Like that hand lotion she uses. The one that smells like vanilla and brown sugar,” Tsukishima proclaimed, nodding to himself like he had solved the mystery.

The green haired boy was still trying his best to be supportive. He nodded slowly, giving a forced smile to his best friend as he slowly spiralled into insanity. He had never seen Tsukishima this desperate for answers before. “Hasn’t she let you use some of that hand lotion?” He wondered aloud, remembering very specifically how red Tsukishima’s ears got when she rubbed a bit into a rash he had gotten on his hand.

“Gotta take good care of your hands if you play volleyball, Tsukishima-san!” Y/N had beamed, her fingers massaging the cream in.

Tsukishima had practically fainted that day, though he’d never admit it.

The blond’s frown tightened, holding his hand to his chin in thought, “Right. So not the hand lotion then.”

“Maybe she got a new perfume?” Yamaguchi offered, nibbling on some of his lunch while Tsukishima thought it out.

“No, she’s still using the same one,” He mumbled, and Yamaguchi smirked to himself, knowing that Tsukishima would’ve never admitted before that he knew little details like this about her.

“Well. what kinds of symptoms do you have? Maybe that’ll narrow it down,” Yamaguchi suggested, leaning his head back on the wall behind them. It wasn’t unusual for Tsukishima to want to eat some place quiet, but today had been the first day that he had practically dragged Yamaguchi to this small secluded spot behind the school. The two of them sat against a wall to eat, though Tsukishima’s lunch had been completely forgotten.

“I just-” Tsukishima hesitated, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance as he tried to word how his body felt every time she was around. “I always feel so lightheaded. And my heartbeat’s always irregular too. Sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe properly.” His hand slid into his jacket pocket, pulling out his phone and tilting the screen towards Yamaguchi to show him a medical diagnostic page on the web. “Some people say these are symptoms of allergies. Or an anxiety attack. But I’m leaning more towards allergies.”

Yamaguchi squinted at the text, “You... Googled it?” He asked, a playful smile on his lips, glancing up at Tsukishima, amused.

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” Tsukishima scoffed, scrolling through the page. “I don’t know what else it could be. It’s not with anyone else. It can’t be the classroom either, cause when she’s not around, I don’t feel anything.”

“Hm. So what’re you going to do about it?” Yamaguchi asked, going along with this ‘allergic’ idea as much as he could. He knew Tsukishima was very rational and even if he suggested what he figured was happening, Tsukishima would never listen.

“D-Do?” Tsukishima blinked. He hadn’t thought about what the next step was.

“Well I assume you don’t want to keep feeling that like right? You could always ask the teacher to move you, I suppose. Then ask her not to attend any of our games. Avoiding her for the rest of your life seems like the best choice doesn’t it?” Yamaguchi asked innocently, closing up his lunch box and taking a sip from his juice.

Tsukishima stayed quiet, eyebrows still furrowed and the frown on his face tightening. He knew that made sense - one of the girls in their class was allergic to nuts and she always had to be careful what she ate, and he had even heard of some people not eating or drinking milk products because of allergies. The logical part of his brain agreed with Yamaguchi, perhaps staying away from Y/N was the only answer.

“Then... maybe it’s not an allergy,” Tsukishima mumbled quietly. He hated going back on his word but he couldn’t deny that he loathed the idea of not seeing Y/N’s smile ever again. Or seeing her sit with someone else. “Maybe it’s just something I have to get used to.”

“You know, Tsukishima,” Yamaguchi started again, looking off to the scenery that was in front of them. His voice was light and airy as he tried to coax his friend to the idea, “What you’re going through sounds a lot like-”

Tsukishima could hear it in his voice, he knew the next word forming from Yamaguchi’s lips before it even entered the air. He slammed his lunch box closed and stood up abruptly, turning away from the other boy’s eyes. “Lunch is over,” he grumbled, as if that was the reason he stood up so dramatically.

Yamaguchi smirked and packed up his things, shaking his head slowly when Tsukishima wasn’t looking. He wasn’t at all surprised that Tsukishima was having a hard time accepting his feelings.

The word hung in the very serious boy’s mind for the rest of the day. He tried not to focus so much on Y/N as he sat next to her for the rest of their classes, tried to not inhale too much or look in her general direction, in fear that his “allergy” would act up again.

He was almost positive it wasn’t... that. He would know for sure if it was, wouldn’t he? His nose scrunched slightly as he thought about the music he had listened to before, ones that had just a good melody and beat and he definitely didn’t listen to because of the lyrics since they were about... that thing.

Didn’t some people talk about their heart feeling like it was going to fall out of their chest? That they found it hard to breathe? That it was like all life stopped when they saw that person? And that despite all this, they never wanted to be without them?

Tsukishima had to get to the bottom of this. He was either experiencing some sort of allergic reaction to her or he was experiencing feelings. He thought about ignoring them, pretending like they didn’t exist so that maybe everything would go back to normal one day. But how long would that take? Wouldn’t it just be easier to rip off the bandaid and find out now?

At the end of class, Tsukishima zoomed his way out of class, not waiting for Yamaguchi like usual.

“Is he alright, Yamaguchi-san?” Y/N asked, surprised that the two best friends weren’t walking out together like they had every other day. Some days, they would even walk out with Y/N on their way to practice. But apparently, not today.

“He’s got a lot on his mind,” Yamaguchi explained, waving it away with a smile. Perhaps today he would be walking home by himself. And that was fine by him.

Y/N packed up her things and waved goodbye to her other classmates, heading out the door and slipping in her headphones. Her mind drifted to all the things she had to do when she got home, whether or not there were leftovers to heat up today or if she should cook something up.

“You take so long,” a drawl voice interrupted the very beginning of her first song. She blinked in surprise, looking to her right where Tsukishima was leaning against a tree.

Y/N pulled out one earbud, tilting her head as she watched him. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him do this casual, I-don’t-care-about-anything lean, with his headphones around his neck and his hands shoved in his pockets. But there was something different about him this time. Why was he avoiding her eyes? Why was he not giving her an annoyingly carefree smile? Why were his ears turning pink?

“Were you... waiting for me, Tsukishima-san?” Y/N asked slowly. He didn’t move for a moment, as if still calculating something in that big brain of his. He pushed off of the tree after sighing, walking over to her slowly.

“Obviously,” was all he said, glaring down at her as if she should’ve known this.

“You rushed out of class so quick, I thought you were already going home,” Y/N responded, still a bit confused. “Don’t you and Yamaguchi normally walk home together?”

Why did she have to question so much? Why couldn’t she just realize what he was trying to do? Tsukishima huffed and grabbed her hand, dropping a nice cool juice box in it. His eyes darted away from her next inquisitive look, but glanced back almost immediately because he wanted to see her eyes widen just a little at her favourite juice box.

“W-What is this?” Y/N asked, holding it in her hands. Part of her wanted to examine it to make sure he hadn’t somehow tricked her into holding something that wasn’t actually juice. She looked up at him suspiciously - Tsukishima knew her favourite juice?

“You didn’t have one with you today. I figured you forgot your wallet again today,” Tsukishima mumbled, shoving his hands in his jacket again.

“O-Oh. I did, thank you. Um,” Y/N hesitated. Was Tsukishima trying... to be nice? “Why... why did you buy it for me?”

“I just said why,” Tsukishima scoffed, flicking her head gently. He scolded himself internally, feeling guilty as soon as she showed the surprise on her face. She’s asking why you thought to be nice, Kei, stop being snarky, he told himself harshly. “Sorry,” he muttered quickly, feeling almost immediately bad for flicking her.

Y/N just laughed though, giggles spilling from her lips as she looked up at him, “Are you feeling okay, Tsukishima-san? You’re turning red,” she teased gently and he looked away from her quickly, hating how quickly his face heated up.

He took a breath, trying to mimic how calm he was on the court. He turned back to look at her with a cocky smile and confidence gaze, though he was sure she could tell he was nervous, “I’m fine, Y/N-san. But I need to tell you something. And I’m only going to say it once so listen up.”

Y/N watched him intently, noting the fake confidence he was trying to put on. She nodded as he looked at her for any sign to keep going.

His lips opened for a moment and Y/N could’ve sworn there was a moment of panic in his eyes when nothing came out. “I’m going to walk you home today,” Tsukishima stated finally, each word thudding into the air. He felt his confidence falter as the wrong words left his mouth, shifting his bag on his shoulder and starting to walk ahead.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, feeling her confusion only rise. Did he really build up that whole thing... just to walk her home?

“Hurry up or I’ll leave you here,” Tsukishima called behind his shoulder, still walking ahead. He was internally punching himself, groaning and uttering insults at his own stupid self. Couldn’t even say it. Couldn’t just say Y/N I like you and I think I’m either allergic to you or I’m utterly in love with you but I’ve been told I suck at explaining how I feel and that I never say the right things at the right time so please just reject me so I can move away from these exhausting feelings.

“Want some?” Y/N’s gentle voice was suddenly beside him, and Tsukishima felt his stomach doing that flipping motion again. He glanced down at her and saw her holding up the juice box at him. “Seems only fair, since you bought it,” she explained, the glimmer in her eyes making him feel way too warm inside.

“Sure,” he mumbled after a moment. She smiled just a little bit wider, holding up the juice to him, expecting him to just snatch it away and drink. But no, Tsukishima being a little bitch and deciding that if he couldn’t admit anything with words, he could try with actions, leaned down slightly, and latched his lips onto the straw. His hand wrapped around hers over the juice box, holding it still as he took a sip.

Y/N felt like she was suddenly bright red, her heart possibly having exploded right then and there. His eyes looked up to meet hers as he sipped, smirking a bit as he noticed the panicked and flushed look in her eyes.

Maybe the feeling is... mutual?

“Mm,” he hummed, pulling away after keeping her gaze for a second. “I guess I can see why you like it.”

Y/N had shivers running up and down her spine, feeling like Tsukishima had looked into her very soul and knew about her year-long crush on him.

The two of them started walking a bit slower after that, and to the external eye, you’d probably just see two classmates walking home together. But look a little closer, and you’d see both of them having internal conflicts. They managed to walk through the small roads filled with shops and make it about halfway to Y/N’s house in complete silence.

“Y/N-san,” Tsukishima finally ended it, the agonizing silence, in which he had been racking his brain trying to think of how to start a conversation. He stopped in his tracks as he spoke the one word, the two of them now on a quieter dirt path. There was no one to interrupt them, no one to save Tsukishima from embarrassment, no Yamaguchi to fill the awkward silence.

“Hm?” Y/N looked back at him, noticing him just standing there. “Are you alright, Tsukishima-san?”

“There’s something I need to say,” he started, his hands in his pockets clenched into fists.

“O-Oh okay.”

“I’ve been... feeling sick around you.” Baka, he scolded himself for what felt like the millionth time. That definitely wasn’t the way he had wanted to say it. “I-I mean, not like sick sick but like allergy sick,” he tried to recover, but scoffed at himself since that wasn’t all that much better.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed in response, trying to think about his reactions lately. He had definitely been more flushed lately, but she always thought that was annoyance. He’d been quieter and more distant, but it was Tsukishima after all. He looked over to her desperately, hoping to see that she was understanding what he was trying to say. She wasn’t.

Tsukishima was starting to get frustrated. He knew he wasn’t the greatest at communicating but how hard was it to see how much he liked her? Yamaguchi saw it, hell, even his upperclassmen teased him about it when they first saw Tsukishima and Y/N walking out of class together one day. So why did other people who didn’t need to know it, why did they understand but she didn’t? Why was she so dense?

You’re not saying anything, his mind reminded him as he scowled to himself.

“It has to be that,” Tsukishima finally continued quietly, his eyes now staring at his feet. He was practically trying to convince himself now. It had to be that there was a health related issue with him being around her. It had to be that, because if it wasn’t, it meant that Tsukishima had to tell her how he felt. And that meant that he was probably going to end up hurt. Why a girl like Y/N hung around a guy like him anyways was beyond him.

“Why?” Y/N frowned, still terribly lost in the cosmos of this odd confession. “Why would it have to be that?”

“Because if it isn’t that, then it means that I’ve fallen completely head over heels for you.”

Tsukishima wasn’t sure how he had managed to say the words. But there it was. His fists tightened even more, his fingernails digging into his palm so hard it was starting to hurt.

His eyes closed tightly, turning his head away from her. He didn’t want to look. He didn’t want to see laughter or disgust in her eyes. Maybe he could take it back now. Maybe he could-

Tsukishima jumped at the feeling of a poke on his chest, his eyes opening in surprise when he found Y/N standing much closer than she was earlier. “Are you teasing me?” She asked defensively, squinting her eyes up at him.

“T-Teasing?” Tsukishima stammered. He watched her eyes, noting how visibly upset she looked and he could feel his frustration rising. He had finally said what he had wanted to say this whole time... and she wasn’t even reacting the way she was supposed to. How stupid did she have to be? And why did she have to look so damn cute while doing it?

“Yamaguchi-san told you, didn’t he? I knew that poophead couldn’t keep his mouth shut,” she grumbled, crossing her arms against her chest. “He swore he wouldn’t tell you, but I should’ve known. You guys are best friends and all.”

“Told me... told me what?”

“That I’ve liked you practically since we met,” Y/N huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “Listen, Tsukishima-san, if you don’t like me back, you don’t have to tease me like this. I’m perfectly fine being rejected,” she told him with a pout on her lips (she was definitely not fine being rejected, and was planning on crying at home after this). “Don’t act like you didn’t know.”

Tsukishima‘s eyes widened, staring at her like she had grown a second head. “You... You like me?” He gulped. His allergies must be getting worse, his heart was thumping so hard against his chest, he couldn’t think straight.

Y/N and him shared a confused look for a moment, neither one of them sure who was teasing whom at this point. “Didn’t... didn’t you know? That’s why you’re being nice to me?” She asked him, poking his chest again. “Why else would you be walking me home and buying me juice?”

“Why would...” Tsukishima’s lips curled into a smile and suddenly he burst out into laughter, tilting his head back in amusement.

“Why are you laughing?” Y/N whined, punching his arm lightly with a huff. “This isn’t a time to be laughing at me!”

Tsukishima straightened up with his signature cocky smile, shaking his head as he fixed his glasses on his face. Then, his hand moved to hit the top of her head.

“OW! Tsukishima-san!”

“You idiot. Why would I be standing here confessing to you if I was just going to make fun of you?” Tsukishima scoffed, smirking at her. “If I didn’t like you back and I found out you liked me, don’t you think I would’ve made it clear by now that you never stood a chance?”

Y/N thought about this for a moment, remembering that one time a girl in a different class had confessed to him after attending one of his matches.

“I think you’re incredible, Tsukishima-san! A-And I just.... well I just...”

“Are you trying to confess to me?” Tsukishima didn’t even bother looking up from his study book, finishing an equation before even glancing at her. “You should just give up now. I’m not interested.”

The girl had teared up so much, even Y/N had felt bad (even though she was secretly happy that Tsukishima hadn’t accepted the confession). Yamaguchi had yelled at Tsukishima about being gentle that day.

“Why would I be nice to someone stupid enough to think I’d like them? I didn’t give her any hints that I did, I don’t even know her,” Tsukishima grumbled.

Y/N had internalized those words, deciding she wouldn’t confess her feelings to Tsukishima ever. If she did, and Tsukishima rejected her, he probably wouldn’t want to be around her as friends ever again.

“So...” Y/N thought to herself for a moment, trying to reexamine what had happened today. “What was with the juice box then?” She asked him.

“I thought...” Tsukishima frowned a little, looking up at the sky in thought. “I thought when you confess you were supposed to... give a gift or something.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle at his thought process and Tsukishima glared at her slightly. “You’re laughing at me now?”

She shook her head quickly, trying to stifle her giggles, “I just... I think it’s sweet,” she beamed, holding onto her little juice box even though it was empty now.

Tsukishima watched her carefully before smiling a little, patting her head gently, “Alright then, let’s get you home. I’ll bring another juice box for you for our date.”

“D-Date?” Y/N repeated shyly, following him as he started to walk again.

“You thought I’d just confess to you and not ask you out? Idiot,” Tsukishima smirked, feeling such an intense relief on his shoulders. His heart was still beating furiously and his stomach felt like it was going to come up his throat, but... it wasn’t as frustrating of a feeling now.

After he dropped her off at her house with the promise of walking her to school tomorrow morning, Tsukishima couldn’t help but allow himself to smile widely the whole way home.

If this is what an allergy felt like, he never wanted it to stop.

** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

Okay like I mentioned up there in the Author’s Notes, this is my first time writing for Haikyuu so lmk what you thought :) I’ve written some stuff for OHSHC and I think it’s pretty obviously that tall jerks with glasses are my type lol

Anyways! Enjoy!

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