π β tsukishima kei x f!reader
β synopsis: something about the stars has always intrigued tsukishima, how even in the dusk of the night, the brighest star would light up the world and burn itself in the process. he also didn't know what to do when that star had turned into the person who seemed to make his days just a little bit better.
β warnings: nothing much, except angst. just soft yet also mean tsukishima who doesn't know what to do with those feelings of his. maybe he's a little ooc. based on "andromeda" by weyes blood.
stars, so miniscule, so far away from his touch, so beautiful even with the stygian waters that it swims on.
every night, after practice, tsukishima would walk his lethargic body home with his headphones in his ears, his neck bent backwards it could snap. but he didn't care, he wanted to watch the stars move and follow him.
he wanted to watch all the dead stars who shined the brightest, the stars that had turned into supernovas, the stars that are created. and he felt at peaceβ the soft rhythm and reverb of the song humming in his ears, and the stars that lead him home.
and occasionally, adding to his visual and auditory senses, a sweet drink on the palate of his tongue made his evenings better.
tonight was no different.
he had just bid his goodbye to his teammates, although timidly and without masking that annoyance he'd always bore against the little tangerine boy who always had a little too much energy.
tsukishima begins his journey, using the stars as his map, putting his hands in his pockets. yamaguchi hadn't joined him for tonight. actually, he hasn't joined him in a while, always walking yachi home, using her "safety" as an excuse (it really was the reason, but obviously there was another one).
still, he didn't mind the absence of his friend.
anri's soft doo-wop brings pleasantries in his ears as the song begins. his fingers tap inside the pocket of his gym shorts. he looks up at the night sky and connects his own constellations. tsukishima wonders if those stars ever know that they're being admired by millions of people in this planet, even if they'd died billions of years ago.
as a child, he used to think that the stars were the meteors that had killed his beloved dinosaurs. and every night, he would refuse to look up. but then akiteru, despite finding humor in his little brother's childish belief, had decided to tell him the difference between meteors and stars. and then added more information about those stars.
so now tsukishima loved three things: dinosaurs, strawberry shortcake, and stars.
his feet patter softly on the cobblestone that serves as a pathway to his home, the cool air drying the sweat off his temples and cooling his back, which reminds him to wipe his sweat when he gets home before he showers to avoid getting sick.
and then he suddenly comes in contact with a small body.
just outside of sakanoshita market, tsukishima's chest bursts in sudden (but light) pain from the person's elbow. and that person had emit a small noise of surprise and pain, stumbling backwards.
tsukishima was just about to snap, tell the person to look where they had been going and call them an idiot when his eyes met yours.
they're wide, irises darkened from the night's haze, and you're clutching your elbow, headphones askew. you rub the soft skin, a small pout on your lips and tsukishima wonders how painful was it for you to pout like this.
then you look at him and he feels the air stuck in his throat.
pretty.
"oh! sorry. i didn't mean to bump into you." you bow in front of him, hands pliant at your sides. tsukishima's at lost for words, lips only parted and looking at you. he still hasn't said anything when you bring yourself back up again.
"it's- it's okay." he finally stammers out, pausing his music and moving his headphones off from one ear. "sorry for not looking either." tsukishima bows slightly, just tilting the top half of his body.
you smile lightly at him, hanging your own headphones around your neck, scanning his figure. he suddenly feels shy under your curious gaze, watching as you read the print on the left side of his chest.
"karasuno...? ka-karasuno! i go there," you laugh lightly, like that discovery was the greatest news you'd ever heard. "i don't think i've seen you around. well, maybe because i'm new. i'm such a dumbass."
though the last sentence being a whisper, tsukishima contradicts: "n-no. i haven't seen you around either." he takes one step forward towards you, didn't expect himself to be nearer than he'd planned. "tsukishima kei."
you tell him yours in a polite manner, with a smile so bright you'd beat the stars that hover both of your bodies. "you're part of the volleyball club, aren't you?"
he hopes you don't see his wavering blush in the dim lights. "yes."
"cool! what position?"
"middle blocker."
"that's so cool," you face him, neck bent upwards to meet his eyes, hands forming into excited fists in front of you, like how hinata would get enthusiastic about something. "you're really tall. i bet, i mean if you could, you'd hit the streetlights when you jump."
that theory piques his curiosity. his eyebrows raise. "i haven't given it a thought. i will try it soon though." tsukishima finally removes his headphones and leaves them around his neck. he points to the bag in her hands. "what'd you buy?"
"chocolate milk. ukai-chan is your coach, right?"
"how'd you know?"
"i see him enter the gym everyday after classes. he owns this store," your head motions behind you. "can you tell him his mom is a little mean? i actually preferred it when he was watching over the store."
tsukishima smiles a little. "can't. he's our coach. he might actually drop us for his store."
your laugh may be brighter than anything else in existence.
"okay, well, see you around tsukishima-san." you smile at him, the pearls of your teeth glinting in the moonlight, the whiskers of your eyes denote the glee you've obtained from him and tsukishima softens just a little. you wave at him and walk past him.
he turns around, and even though your back was to him, his hand lifts and waves at you.
tsukishima walks home happier than he expected, a small smile lingering on his face.
π β
"who you looking for, tsukki?"
yamaguchi serves his friend a teasing smile, holding the tray carefully in his hands. tsukishima looks down at his friend and deadpans:
"shut up, yamaguchi."
"sorry tsukki."
they sit down on the table hinata and kageyama sit on, the two bantering quite loudly on which flavored milk was the best and is advisable to increase their energy. kageyama says: "banana, you dumbass."
hinata argues that: "it's chocolate! it makes people hyper for a reason. could you watch your language?!"
tsukishima and yamaguchi sit beside each other, their backs to the window of the cafeteria, which meant that tsukishima has a view of the entire room, his height being an advantage despite the large crowds.
he blindly brings his bento out of his box, his eyes never leaving the heedless crowd. yamaguchi, ever the curious, most specifically the friend who always wondered what it is that ran through tsukishima's mind, asked again: "seriously, tsukki, who are you looking for?"
tsukishima huffs. "just sawamura-san. i need a-advice. on my blocks." the lie slips easily off his tongue that yamaguchi can't decide between believing him or forcing the truth out of him.
but tsukishima is slightly disappointed that even after five minutes, he still can't see the color of your hair amidst the throng of students. though his face might say otherwise (rbf), he can't help but feel a little sad.
maybe the star isn't shining so bright today.
he pokes and prods at the vegetables placed on top of his rice, stabbing the carrot and shoving it in his frowning mouth. he doesn't notice that hinata has been observingβ no, looking at him. because hinata was never the type of person who could be discreet.
"stingyshima, you look sad," he doesn't know if it's a tease or not, but maybe it is. "is he looking for someone, yamaguchi?"
"i don't know," he shrugs. "he says he's looking for sawamura-san."
"he's right there," kageyama jabs his finger behind him, seeing daichi in line for the cafeteria food. "your blocks haven't been good? figured."
"sorry if i haven't lived up to your standards, king." tsukishima sneers. yamaguchi and hinata laugh, kageyama burning in his seat.
eating his lunch ended quite faster than he thought it would, and soon he finds himself walking along the hallway of the school building waiting for the remaining free time to end. so his boredom drags his feet towards the nearest vending machine.
the device on his ears blocked out all the haze and noise of the world, which left him in his own environment. it eased the nerves that trickled along his veins, rubbed the tension off his shoulders. in his own milieu, he could think whatever and say whatever and do whatever.
just like how stars form themselves however they please, explode and die whenever they want to. tsukishima didn't have better knowledge of stars than he knew of dinosaurs, but it was his own thought and he had the freedom to think whatever it is (although of course, with just a little bit of accuracy and validity).
tsukishima's eyes scan the plastic divisions for the sight of any strawberry drinks. when they land on one, he types the number and slips the cash in. the conveyor belts begin to twist.
but much to his dismay, when the drink was pushed, it never fell.
he tuts in frustration, his head falling backwards to release a tired, irritated sigh.
and then you pop up beside him.
tsukishima jumps lightly when he sees you put your head out and smile at him, clutching his heaving chest. somehow, your laugh had managed to drown out the song in his ears; he doesn't mind though. he thinks your smile was the most beautiful orchestra ever conducted.
he puts his headphones around his neck. "they're incredibly annoying, aren't they?" you smile up at him. "here, i'll help you."
suddenly, you begin to violently shake the vending machine. tsukishima almost feels embarrassed for you, but the lack of audience has rid that feeling. you, with your height, looked like a child angrily throwing a tantrum and had transferred your anger towards an object.
nonetheless, adorable.
finally, the strawberry drink fell down, and you squat to pick it up from the port to give it to him. tsukishima takes it from you and says: "thank you."
"no problem!" you beam at him. "i was actually looking for you earlier. i couldn't see you. did you eat at your classroom?"
tsukishima removes the plastic of his straw. "no. i was at the cafeteria." he doesn't want to admit he's looking for you too, but he hopes you can see it in his eyes.
(you don't. to you, he looked uninterested and entertained at the same time. very hard to read)
"aw, alright. well, i was just wondering if you'd like to, uh, switch emails?" you're shy and he finds it amusing. "not switch like i use yours and you use mine, but switch like i take yours and you take mine... so we could text each other..."
he wants to say that he knows, he's not dumb. but youβ your eager eyes of softness look up at him and he forgets how to be so cruel and cold. like you were the kind of fire to melt the falling snowflakes. tsukishima nods.
"sure." he pulls his phone out with one hand from his pocket and hands it to you. you take it and give your phone to him, and it felt smaller in his hands.
when you exchange phones again, there's shyness written across your face. tsukishima can't help but blush with the way the sun kisses your skin the way it would to tainted windowsβ radiating colors so beautiful he can't help but simply be at awe towards you.
a star is created somewhere far away. tsukishima's heart skips a beat.
"i was actually looking for you, too. earlier." he admits, putting his phone back in his pocket. "i couldn't see you. sorry."
"don't be sorry!" there goes that smile again, always making his heart flip. "we both struggled anyway."
"do you want anything?" he points to the vending machine. "chocolate? banana? strawberry?"
"can i try yours first?"
tsukishima pauses, the straw in his mouth just finishing his sip. there's innocence in your eyes that riles him up the wall in ludicrous ways. he slowly takes the straw out between his lips and hands it to you, with you greedily taking it from him before his hand met you halfway.
he swears he could've been redder than any other person in the world when you so shamelessly put his straw in your mouth.
should i be worried about the germs or the fact that we kind of just kissed but not really?
when you sip, you swallow and he can see your brain ponder on what decision you were going to make. you hand it back to him and say: "yeah, i like that one, too."
how could you act like you didn't just drink from his straw?
tsukishima gets you one, this time without shaking the vending machine and hands it to you.
"thank you." you say, your smile adding to your gratitude.
though it seems as if time has reached its end and a familiar sound rings across the hallway that reminds the both of you that the free time was over. tsukishima sees your pout but you don't directly show it to him.
"well, see you around, tsukishima!" you wave goodbye to him, walking away.
tsukishima stands still, staying at his place. his drink was no longer cold, the condensation dripping down his fingers.
somehow, the colors are brighter, the drink was sweeter, the tension from his body had disappeared, and everything else felt lighter. and even if you were no longer standing in his proximity, that luster you left behind etched itself to him.
you were now his new environment.
π β
you. hi tsukishima! 3:13pm
when his phone dings, he places his waterbottle to his side, tuning out the sound of squeaking shoes and bouncing balls. he sees your name on the screen. he doesn't hesitate to text back.
tsukishima. Hi. 3:13pm
his palms sweat from simply typing that greeting. but his heart seems to beat faster and his chest feels light. he didn't expect that you'd text right away. nevertheless, he feels elated to see you text him.
you. didnt see u at the gates earlier during dismissal, do u have training today? 3:15pm
tsukishima. Yes. 3:15pm
you. oh really? until what time? 3:18pm
tsukishima. 7. 3:18pm
you. okay! thats kind of tiring haha. 3:20pm
tsukishima. It is. 3:20pm
he winces at the possible tone he may deliver, so he adds:
tsukishima. Haha. 3:20pm
"bruh, you text so lame."
it seems that tanaka had been peaking over his shoulder as the conversation ensued. tsukishima hugs his phone to his chest and glares at him. "that's invasion of privacy."
"and that's how to lose a girl," he points at his phone. "you text like you're so uninterested."
yamaguchi looks at the two. "who's tsukki texting?"
"some girl named, uh,β"
"no one." tsukishima snaps. "no one."
"oh, it must be the one tsukishima was looking for earlier," hinata runsβ or skips towards them. "stingyshima flirting? i wonder how you look like. i'm smart, but i won't tell you that i'm a smartass because i wanna impress you with my blocking skills. i'm so cool and so tall."
tsukishima hates how hinata mimics him. he bites back. "oh, i'm hinata. i'm so small."
much to his dismay, even sugawara had joined in. "you could tell her that, you know, i'm so tired. but i'm drinking water so that's good enough for me already."
he responds with respect, though dripping his annoyance. "sugawara-san, please don't mimic me."
his phone vibrates again, and everyone else leans in to look. tsukishima snarls and moves away from them, clutching his dear phone to his chest.
you. any chance we could drink later? 3:27pm
you. not alcohol, of course. just milk or juice, or a shake, even yogurt. although, we can't drink yogurt... 3:27pm
tsukishima feels yamaguchi peer over his shoulder, and he knows its him because of that distinct smell of his. he doesn't hide the phone away even when yamaguchi says: "she's asking you out! go!"
"calm down, yamaguchi."
he shakily types his response.
tsukishima. Sure. By the store again? 3:27pm
three dots, he's awaiting for your response.
you. okay! see you there :) 3:28pm
π β
his practice ends at 7 on the dot. tsukishima has never left faster in his life.
though he was always the first to leave, bidding them goodbye before walking his way home. this was differentβ his goodbye bore that sense of urgency with a twinge of excitement as he clumsily slipped his regular shoes on, walking as fast as he could away from the school campus.
coach ukai had actually offered that they go back to the store together, but tsukishima was in a rush.
it was an eight minute walk to the store. he got there in five.
you were no longer wearing your school uniform. you had your hands at your sides, rocking back in forth from the heels of your feet, your headphones bobbing along with your head as you listened to your song. tsukishima wonders how he would approach you.
a tap on the shoulder? yell your name? appear in front of you? should he turn you around violently and smile awkwardly? should heβ
"tsukishima-san!"
he didn't realize that he had spaced out, blinking. you approach tsukishima as you discard your headphones to hang them around your neck, stopping just a few friendly feet from him.
"how was practice?" you pip. "you look exhausted."
tsukishima reddens. "i'm alright. same practice anyway," he rubs the back of his neck. "should we go inside? i'm thirsty."
he hopes he doesn't sound too demanding. but you reacted normally, gave him a pretty smile, and led your way towards the store.
coach ukai's mother sat behind the counter, sporting the same cigarette in her mouth, a garbled greeting escaping her without bothering to look up as she read her newspaper. you and tsukishima find your way to the back where the drinks are.
he opens the door for you, the appliance bulb casting a white glow over your face as you bent and searched for what drink made your veins twitch with excitement.
"by the way, you know yachi hitoka?" you balance your hands on your knees, looking up at him. "she's your manager right? i'm in her class!"
"really?" he queries, swallowing thickly. "you're really smart, then. it's one of the higher classes."
"i try," you shrug shyly, looking back at the selection of drinks. "anyway, i asked her about you. she said that you were a middle blocker, 6 foot something, and that she liked your friend yamaguchi? i don't know, she said it then she denied it."
"oh, she likes him alright," he chuckles. "he walks her home every night."
"really?!" you pick up two cans of coke and clutch them to your chest, standing upwards. tsukishima shyly reaches for another strawberry drink. "i'm mad at her for not telling me that."
you make your way to the front with tsukishima following behind you. you place the contents on the counter, the woman behind muttering something you can't discern as she scanned your orders.
"are you allowed to stay out a little longer?" you ask him, the soft beeps of the drinks grazing his ears. he shrugs again, reaching for his wallet.
"yeah, sure. do you want to do something?" he places the payment on the counter before you were able to take your own cash out. you pout.
"i was going to pay for mine."
"it's alright. it wasn't that expensive, anyway." he smiles a little at you. and it was the first time tsukishima had ever smiled kindly at anyone, except yamaguchi, his mom, and akiteru. "you were saying?"
you pop open your can. "i found this really nice spot where you can stargaze. and, honestly, i'm bored and tomorrow's the weekend. i would have invited you to do this tomorrow, but we're here now!"
he laughs through his nose. "i'm free anytime."
when you both approach the exit, coach ukai and the team stand by the open doors. tsukishima stops on his tracks, his mouth parted the slighest as you tip your head back to drink your soda. when your head comes back in place, your eyes settle on the crowd upon you.
"oh, hello ukai-san!"
tsukishima looks at you through his peripherals before darting his eyes back front. they all snicker, eyes widened at the sight in front of themβ cold, narcissistic, mean tsukishima kei, with probably the nicest girl in all of karasuno. yachi waves at you.
"is that why you were rushing to get out, tsukishima?" ukai teases, a cigarette hanging loosely off his lips. "i see you've met my number 1 customer."
he blushes when he's exposed, and he ignores the way you give him a surprised glance.
"so you must be the girl he was texting earlier," tanaka approaches you, offers his hand. "forgive him. he sounds lame when he texts, but trust me if you saw his face he looked likeβ"
"tanaka-san." tsukishima almost pleads.
while shaking his hand, yachi approaches you with yamaguchi behind her. "this is why you asked me about him!"
"shut up, yachi."
tsukishima could die right then and there. melt into a puddle of sweat and embarrassment. there were words exchanged between you and his ever loving team, the heat on his face becoming hotter and hotter at every second.
he wishes he could leave now.
by the time hinata begins to ask you a question about tsukishima's attitude, he sighs loudly. "excuse us, but we have to head out now."
you look at him again. "we do?"
"yes, we do," he looks down at you. "you told me, remember?"
you smile at him, recollecting your invitation. "oh, yes! we should get going."
you offer your goodbyes to the curious group. tsukishima wallows in discomfort, walking away with his shoulders slightly slumped and a hand in his pocket.
"i like them," you tell him, drinking your coke. "they're nice."
"they're really not," he takes a sip of his drink. "if you hung out with them, you'd be just as annoyed as i was."
his "joke" makes you laugh. first he thinks what could be so funny about his comment, then he realizes you don't actually know that he wasn't joking. the thought makes him swoon just a little.
"so why stargazing?" his and your feet are synchronized, stepping on the uneven cobblestone to the destination that tsukishima still doesn't know. your shoulder is closed to his when you walk; he resists the urge to put his hand out so that they'd graze your fingers, feeling the heat rub on his calloused skin.
"yesterday, when you walked home, i looked back and saw you look up at the sky," you reply. "and i realized that "oh, he stargazes too!" so i decided to bring you to my spot."
"your spot?" you hum in agreement. "why?"
"because it's nice to share the feeling of looking up at beautiful stars." you throw your now empty can onto a nearby bin, opening your second one. "i figured maybe you might feel the same way i do."
if it was admiration then yes, he felt the same way you did.
π β
tsukishima realizes the walk was 10 minutes away from his home. now you're both standing at a hill where you can see all the houses nearby and karasuno at the other side.
you sit down on the ground, he copies you. his bottom sits on the soft soil, his fingers prickled by the grass, and the cold smell of the meadow enters his nostrils.
he thinks that everything is happening a little too fast β he had only met you yesterday, exchanged emails earlier, went out to buy drinks, and now you're both sitting at a hill stargazing like it's a date. your optimism and kindness shakes him a little, leaving him with an unknown thought of what he could possibly do as of this moment.
yet he's still here, watching you gaze at the stars, the sheer glow of the moon kissing your cheeks, the stars reflecting off the mosaic of your eyes. you're radiating this cordial heat that wraps around his right arm that rests just millimeters away from you.
"told you it's pretty," you beam, lips parted, never sparing him a glance. "you see that? that's cassiopea right there."
you point to the sky and squint, and it's only then tsukishima takes his eyes off you and follow the direction of your fingerprint.
you trace the invisible strings that connect each star to one another. blearily, his imagination turns those strings into silver. tsukishima draws nearer towards you, his shoulder now bumping yours, his pinkie grazing the skin of your finger.
"andromeda isn't here yet. but it's the one i've been waiting for the most," you turn your head to look at him.
tsukishima's breath hitches when he realizes that he may have underestimated how close the proximity he had created was, your breath fanning his face. he senses your surprise, the way the bottom of your eyes twitch lightly and your nose scrunches a little.
"i figure maybe they arive in a few weeks," he murmurs. he can sense your surprise and says: "you're not the only one who knows about stars."
"yeah? figured you were more into dinosaurs."
"that's true," he sniffles, you giggle. "when i was a kid i thought that the stars were the ones who killed the dinosaurs. so every night, when i see them, i would always cry 'cause i thought that they might fall here and kill us all."
"pessimist, huh?" when your head tilts up, your chin bumps his shoulder. "anything else i should know about you?"
"there's one thing i want to tell you but i've been making it plainly obvious."
"you have a knack for strawberries."
"yes," he smiles a little, the whites of his teeth appearing between his thin lips. "i like music."
"so do i."
"yeah? what genre?"
"...anri..."
"really?" tsukishima's eyes brighten, maybe even brighter than the stars. "i like her music."
"i thought you were kind of a japanese rock kind of guy."
"i can be many things," you look back up to the sky, your eyes darting between each individual star like you're tracing another constellation. tsukishima's tracing the features of your face like it was his constellation.
"yachi says you're mean, but in a way that brings up the team's drive to play harder," you say into the wind. "please don't be mean to me. i cry easily."
tsukishima wonders if he can even smile more than he is now. "i'll try my best. you're giving me a lot of reasons to be mean right now."
"but you're not being mean to me right now," you poke his glasses and shove them to his face, hurting the bridge of his nose. albeit tsukishima doesn't mutter a single complaint. "you're just being dorky."
"i am not!" he balances his body with one hand behind him, the other tugging on the end of your hair.
"now you're just being childish!"
your laugh beats out all the songs he had to search for to complete every single of his playlists. it was as soft as silk, as dulcet as violins; it was something he'd play on repeat when it played on his headphones. and your sweet laughed matched the way your face became even more beautiful.
tsukishima feels his heart beat a little bit faster.
a star explodes. supernova.
he no longer feels wearied from practice, his body languid from comfort in your presence. and just like last night, he was happy his day ended with something that lacked the usual bothersome feeling in his chest, but something that decompressed every constraint muscle in his body and think of something else that made the corner of his lips smile and his heart elated.
that's why when he went back home, when his mother and akiteru (who was visiting) were dead asleep, he silently descended to his room with a smile on his face, brushed his teeth with the sound of your laugh echoing in his ears, changed his clothes with your scent somehow lingering, and went to be thinking about you.
π β
the past few weeks were more eventful than the days he had to train for the inter-high preliminaries.
the more he saw you, the more he felt himself unwinding like a diurnal motion, every trust and rigor travelling through his veins whenever your aura touched his opalescent skin.
you were the succor to his weary bones. you were the happiness that he never truly found in others. you were the light brighter than the stars could ever give him in the dark.
secrets were passed the way notes would in classes.
you got a sweet tooth? what dessert do you like?
strawberry shortcake, tsukishima said. no regrets, no embarrassment. pure adoration.
did you know that velociraptors aren't actually that big?
yeah? how'd you know that, tsukishima?
it's called reading, he'd roll his eyes. you're in the highest class and you don't read?
his retorts were never used to add insult to injury. that's what he liked about youβ you knew when he was serious and when he wasn't despite the fact that tsukishima believed that he was hard to read. it seemed like you were able to read him better than yamaguchi has.
his heart aches at the thought. the ache, painful but so good, but something that he could not discern the true intention.
but he could never let you in him. never in his life.
you. saw a frog and it looked like you. loser. 12:51pm
you and tsukishima had exchanged countless of texts that contained topics that he never expected himself to be indulging in. that familiar ding! of his phone reminded him of you already, because you'd been the only one who constantly texted him more than yamaguchi has.
(also because, well, he set up a different tone for you.)
tsukishima sees your name pop up in a rectangular notification on his screen. he opens it with sweaty hands and a towel over his head, his thumbs typing out a snarky reply.
tsukishima. How could a frog look like me, (y/n)? That's dumb. 12:51pm
he ruffles his towel over his damp curls, the sweat on his temples being sucked into the cloth. he watches the three bubbles appear on your side and you say:
you. because i said so. look! 12:52pm
the attached image looked far from what tsukishima looks like. it was a regular frog, beside a pond, with no thoughts. he rolls his eyes.
tsukishima. I don't see it. 12:53pm
you. thats because youre not LOOKING. do u see his eyes? literally you. i think its the mouth, haha 12:54pm
he laughs either way despite not having seen any similarities. but laughing seemed to be a mistake, as he forgot where he was at the moment.
"quit laughing, tsukishima. you'll slack off," kageyama taunts from afar, face etched into an arrogant smirk. yamaguchi approaches him, peeking over tsukishima's shoulder to snoop on the conversation.
"are you worried i'll ruin your game, king?" tsukishima rubs the back of his neck, tilting his chin upwards. "my apologies."
you send him another text: omw there to see u :p 12:59pm
the latter's growl was overpowered by yamaguchi's hum of interest. "tsukki, that frog does look like you."
"yamaguchi, how nosy are you?"
"nosy enough to ask when will you tell her that you like her?"
tsukishima's eyebrows furrow. he did not like you. during those weeks, the both of you did more than just exchange texts in any time of dayβ often you'd meet after classes and buy a drink when he didn't have practice; sometimes you'd wait for him until seven in the evening so you'd both go up the hill again and talk mindlessly about things that tickled your brains.
in those few weeks, he had learned more about himself than he ever had with anyone else.
and he feels, though never actually given any attention to, that his days ended with a smile on his face rather than feeling boredom creeping up his shoulder like a grim reaper would on a dying soul.
instead, it felt like he was resurrected; tsukishima felt like a shooting star falling through evening, the fire pulsing through his veins as he fell. with you, he felt like everything else had color, that everything else made sense.
his life became brighter that it seemed like hinata's hair was actually on fire from the bright orange hues.
so no, he did not like you.
"i don't like her." he wipes the sweat that dripped onto his glasses. "don't be ridiculous."
"yesterday, when you were eating, you kept talking about how this (y/n) girl told you how the dinosaurs from jurassic park were created. and all of us were talking about one piece."
"so? it's way more interesting."
"but not her?"
"yamaguchi," he bemoans. "nothing is interesting about her."
that lie. that sickeningly, macabre, heartbreaking lie that it even hurt him to say it. tsukishima also doesn't understand why yamaguchi has a horrified face plastered on him, but he realizes he wasn't looking at his friend, and was looking behind him.
he whips his head around.
the tips of your shoes had mud on them from the dampened soil. your umbrella hung loosely around your wrist and dripped on the ground. your fingers clasped around a small contained with what seemed to be strawberry shortcaked that looked delectable enough to make his stomach hurt. and your chest heaved from what he assumed was the aftermath of rapid walking.
despite the sight that had made his head spin, the affliction that twitched from your frowning lips and the gloss that made your eyes shine from dejection had turned the situation into something so monotone he feels like his soul had just left life.
a star dies in the middle of the galaxy.
tsukishima thinks the regret plastered on his face may be seen. he hopes that it is.
the sound of squeaking shoes and ricocheting balls continue, but the ringing of his ears are louder. you swallow thickly, shuffling on your feet, and approach him hesitantly like he'd burn you if you were near him.
"i brought you this because you looked so pale yesterday after you practiced," you say softly, though he could hear the pain in your tone. tsukishima takes the container from your reaching hand, and swears he sees your breath hitch when his fingers graze yours.
"thank youβ"
"see you around, tsukishima," you bow, before you hurriedly leave the gymnasium.
it felt like the room was shrinking rapidly on him, his muscles pressing in on his body in a suffocating manner. yamaguchi puts his hand on tsukishima's shoulder, leaning down to check in on his distraught friend.
"tsukki," his eyebrows are raised in concern, voice loud enough to snap tsukishima out of his pity daze but low enough that everybody else remained distracted. "hey..."
"i'm fine," he looks up at him. "it's nothing. i'm- i'm fine. let's just go back to practice."
his fists clench when he shoves the cake into his bag and walks back into the court. his blocks are futile when he thinks of your eyes. his serves hit the net when he thinks of the frown pasted on your lips. and he feels himself at the bottom of the game when another star dies.
he just doesn't know if it was his or yours. could a heart break two times?
π β
tsukishima had a crisp trepidation towards the true veneer of love.
he believes he was too young for that, that he was in a stage where he would have this deep passion for things that were alive albeit something that he can't touch nor interconnect withβ hense is unfathomable love for dinosaurs, stars, and strawberry shortcake.
so whatever it is that he was feeling for you β he doesn't know if it's love. tsukishima feels like he could die if he didn't see you for a single day; his feet and his body restless up until you both meet after practice.
tsukishima is even more restless now.
there wasn't a single text from you since 12:59 in the afternoon.
there was almost a hundred texts from tsukishima since 3:00pm, the time he had excused himself early from his practice.
he lays on his bed, his headphones on but no music. he wasn't in the mood to put himself up in brighter spirits. his back rests uncomfortably on the thick mattress, his curls splayed across his pillow, a hand on his chest and a hand holding a fork, his feet spread apart.
and the strawberry shortcake you gave him rests on his chest, half eaten, his mouth chewing sadly on the sweet delicacy.
"do you think stars have thoughts?" you asked. tsukishima found this beguiling and preposterous simultaneously, however the curiosity that happened to lift his lips into a dazed smile made him release a teasing retort:
"you certainly don't."
you threw a grape at him. he caught it with an open mouth. the sun was about to set, but the warmth was enough to prevent the both of you from shivering idiotically on the hill at the cold breeze. "i'm approaching an epiphany, asshole."
your vulgarity made him smile more. "celestial bodies, more specifically stars, do not have thoughts. but they're alive, and they function into a cycle."
"unorthodox minds like mine go out of the box," you rolled your eyes. "sorry, i'll put it in simpler terms so you could understand. i have a very creative mind."
"oh yeah?" tsukishima tilted his head sideways to present his interest. "and what'd you mean by that?"
"you know how stars die and create themselves?" you queried. "it's like how phoenixes rise from the ashes as they're reborn. but when a star resurrects, they're called "zombie stars," right?"
"yeah."
"and i'm not saying that they have a mind of their own, but if you were to input your own thoughts into a star, then yeah, it's like they resurrect themselves to live on with life over and over again, and don't you think that's exhausting? they're like dead stars, and they still shine brightly, and it's ironic, right? because something that has been dead billions of years ago still shine. it has a meaning into it that people just... completely ignore."
"so an analogy?" his eyebrow raised.
"yeah, something like that," you licked your lips. "when you see a bright star, and you don't know if it's a dead star. but imagine stargazing and finding love in something that has been dead long ago."
tsukishima's body softened. "uhuh."
"but what if you keep loving that star? and that star just receives so much of that love that they're able to resurrect themselves. well, obviously loving a star isn't actually gonna bring it back to life because there's a separate scientific explanation for that, but i'm saying thatβ that if you love something, or someone, hard enough that you're able to bring light into their lives, then that's possible.
and they take all that love for the benefit of their life and... they burst into something beautiful called supernovas."
tsukishima stared at you, his gaze ever so adoringly. "and what's the point of this epiphany of yours?"
"that loving someone that has been gone inside their body is possible to save them and bring them back to life to turn them into someone even more beautiful."
tsukishima sits back up, a whiplash from the quick commotion.
it was already night when his thin curtains were tainted black from the dark glow of the evening.
he pushes himself off his bed, slip his way out of his home and clumsily puts his shoes on to find you.
and he knows exactly where you are.
so it's no surprise when he sees you all alone, laying down on the meadow of the hill, blooming flowers grazing your cheeks in any way the wind blows. tsukishima stands and stares at you longingly, his fingers twitching beside him.
"(y/n)."
he says your name like an oath to the stars. you sit up, hearing his voice, cheeks dry with tears melting onto your skin. tsukishima's heart breaks the slightest when he brings himself up the hill.
"what are you doing here?" you ask him, voice so small he'd think you were whispering.
to his surprise, tsukishima falls onto his knees in front of you. he finds it endearing that despite the reduce of his height, you still look up at him. then he takes your hands into his, his thumbs tracing every ridge of your knuckles, looking deep into your eyes.
"i didn't mean what i said." he declares like he was under jurisdiction of the judge. "you areβ... the most interesting woman in the world. the most beguiling, the most entrusting, the most beautiful."
your eyebrows furrow, hands shaking in his grasp. "what are you saying?"
"that i'm an asshole." he admits. "you are so interesting that every epiphany of yours pulls me back on the ground and into you. that epiphany you had about dead stars that resurrect themselves from getting so much love? shit, (y/n), that may be me."
you let out a tiny gasp, maybe a breath of reliefz his face is so close to yours, his knees in between your legs, bumping the side of your thighs. "what?"
"iβ... i don't know if you love me. you don't have to. but you've made my days brighter and gave my life meaning that i felt like i was resurrected. like all the pieces in me were brought back together. and everything else just felt... alive."
finally, you smile. just a little, but it was enough to make the grass greener and the color of your shirt turn pastel, your eyes vibrant in the night. "yeah?"
"yeah," he laughs, idiotically he may add. "i like you. i like you so much. i like you more than i like dinosaurs."
you guffaw, throwing your head back, hands never letting go.
a star resurrects. a supernova explodes.
"i like you more," you say, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
it was enough for him to jump on you to press his lips on your awaiting mouth, gently pressing you down on the grass, his hand on the back of your head to soften the blow as he settles himself in between your legs.
his mouth, sweet with strawberries and ardor, his hair soft like flowers when your fingers tangle on the golden locks, his glasses pressing against the space between your eyebrows and the bridge of your nose, his tongue that hovers respectfully on top of your bottom lip.
innocent, lips full of solicitude, he kisses you deeper and with care, his head tilting to open his mouth the slightest so that he could get closer to you. the small sound that emits from your mouth makes him pull back and smile shyly.
his eyes had the galaxies reflected off his eyes that it made space seem like they were golden from his irises. you take his glasses off, placing them beside you, and let your hands rest on his face; tucking his hair behind his ear as you do so.
and above your intertwined bodies, andromeda swims across the stygian night sky, traced by invisible strings. just as tsukishima predicted.
tsukishima could stare at you for the rest of his life.
tsukishima loved four things: dinosaurs, strawberry shortcake, stars, and most especially:
you.
reblogs and feedback are appreciated!
Mwhahaha I drew Zoro as well
(I know he doesnβt have his swords, I donβt know how to draw swords)
Happy spΓΆΓΆk
Nothing. And I mean NOTHING. Can ever out hot the carousel scene from The Lost Boys
I think The Lost Boys speaks the most to the hurt people--the lonely teens, the people who feel unloved. That's how the Boys lured in Michael: he was lonely, desperate, and alienated.
The Lost Boys represent belonging to a group that will never ever leave you--a dream too good to be true.
And I think we all have a bit of Michael in us.
Summary: After a nasty divorce, you and your family are forced to live with your Grandpa in the lovely notorious Santa Carla, California. Filled with punks, geeks, surfer nazis and apparently all kinds of creatures of the night.
Word count: 2.9k
Poly!lost boys x Emerson!reader
[1] [2] [3] [4]
A/n: I am gonna be 100% honest with all of yall, I have cried, yelled at myself, and threaten to throw my phone across the room. Because I had no idea how to get the reader and the boys to meet. So, this honestly will probably suck, but I have tried my hardest. Spent too many hours deleting and rewriting for this to be bad. So please enjoy if can
The board walk was unlike anything youβve ever seen before. It was packed full of bustling people, everyone wanting to go through all the rides, shops and games that they had on display.Β
Lights came from all around, aluminating your way through the crowd as you tried to decide what to do first on the boardwalk. Screams and laughter sounded from the rollar coaster ride, the bumps and spins tempted you, but you knew that youβd need to ease your way into everything.Β
This would be the moment when youβd wish that Sam or Micheal had come with you, they would try to do everything at once. But, unfortunately, right as you three had arrived; the boys had caught wind of a concert, ditching you to go watch Timmy Cappello perform.Β
Treacherous dicks. You called them, wishing that at least one of them would have stuck with you as you ventured where youβd be spending the remainder of your summer.Β
You wiped your palms against the fabric of your shorts, the heat of the night air causing a faint sheen of sweat to coat your body. After youβd finished unpacking all the necessities from the car, youβd taken a quick shower and changed for a night out on the board walk.
And thankfully so, the gentle breeze against your bare legs cooled you down enough for you to actually enjoy the night out.Β
Chimming bells suddenly grasped your attention, facing the noise, you saw a small shop that was isolated from the others. One of the stores windows was cracked, a piece of cardboard covered the inside to prevent the glass from falling out.Β
It was a music shop.Β
You remembered when your dad would take you as a kid, letting you pick out cassette tapes, and vinyl records for your room. The old record player would run all day from how many times you would listen to Elvis, Buck Owenβs, and The mamΓ‘s & the papas.Β
It was such a shame that you had to sell the record player and half of your vinyl collection to help out after the divorce. With such little money, you had to make sacrifices for your family. No matter how much you regretted it afterwards.
You glanced up at the sign above the door, a wooden guitar with the words Soundscape etched into the body, swayed against the gentle breeze.Β A young couple walked out of the store, hand in hand, a paper bag with their purchase held tightly as they ambled away.Β
Reaching into your pocket, you felt around for your wallet. The small leather bound material felt weighted as you pulled it out, the sudden urge to spend your money caused you to open the door of the shop.Β
The bell rang above you, and a quick greeting sounded from the cashier. You politely greeted him back before wandering throughout the store.Β
It was decently clean, a few stray cdβs littered the ground and a couple display posters were a bit too crooked. But, overall, it was perfect for you.Β
You trailed your fingers over a couple of vinyls, picking up a few before putting them back in place. Not really looking for anything specific at the moment, you just tried to find something that would catch your eye.Β
Stopping infront of the cassette tapes, you let yourself go through each row, the soft clicking as the cassettes bumped against each other drifted up towards your ears. That and the sound of Jeff Lynneβs voice singing Donβt bring me down, was the only noise that filtered throughout the store.Β
Your finger graced an Elvis cassette, the image of him and his infamous guitar sat in the clear case. Picking up the tape, you flipped it over reading the listed songs that went with each side. It had a couple good ones; like Blue Suede Shoes, All Shook Up, Return To Sender, Burning Love and of course some others.Β
It was his top greatest hits from each album.Β
You tapped the plastic against your palm, debating if you should spend the money just to add to your Elvis collection. You actually had a lot of collections that you needed to complete, but, with this specific artist you only had small handful left to find.Β
Kinda like Samβs Batman comics that heβs been trying to find at every book store that youβd passed on the way down here.Β
The bell suddenly rang once more, dragging your attention away from the shelf infront of you. A group of men walked in, each leather clad and mullet wearing. The smell of smoke drifted off of them, wafting through the store. It made you scrunch your nose in disgust.Β
βWelcome to the SoundScape,β The Cashier told them, the rehearsed words falling easily out of his mouth. βIf you need any help, please let me know.β
None of the guys acknowledged the worker, or, they did though they just didnβt pay him any mind. You watched as they each dispersed from one another, going to different displays around the store. Picking up random items before putting them back where they originally were.Β
One of the guys walked down the same row you were on, his eyes trailing over the selection of cassettes. You returned your gaze back to your own tape, not wanting to be caught staring at the guy like a creep.Β
Eyeing the rack infront of you, wondering if you should buy the Elvis tape or possibly another. If youβd had enough money on you. You kept your eye on a Boney M. cassette, the item practically calling your name. You reached forward fingers less than an inch away from the plastic when a sudden commotion caused you to freeze.Β
BAM!
Your head instantly shot up, the sudden noise disturbing the once peaceful silence. It came from a guy in the leathered group, the small one with curly hair, he stood over a fallen display of cdβs. His hands held up in the air, a small smug grin tugging on his lips as he turned to the stores worker.Β
βIβm sorry, man.β He told him, his apologie laced with sarcasm. βIt just started falling.β
The cashier let out a deep sigh, his smile turning from genuine to forced as he eyed the scattered items. βItβs alright, accidents happen.β
You watched as the curly guy bent down and picked up the stand, purposely hitting the one right beside it as he did so. He let out another fake apology before the worker shooed him away, picking up everything himself before curly messed up the entire store.Β
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the movement of the blond beside you shove something in his pocket. You turned you head slightly, to get a better view, and you watched as he took another cassette from the shelf and put it on the inside of his jacket.Β
You glanced between him and the other three guys that he came in with, noticing that with the worker busy they were taking items off of their display and stuffing them deep into their clothes. Hell, the curly guy was trying to fit a whole vinyl record in the front of his shirt. A very prominent square outlined for everyone to see.Β
It was a diversion, knocking over enough stuff for the counter guy to get pissed and pick everything up himself. It was clever, but still wrong.Β
With your attention kept on the tapes infront of you, you opened your mouth. Voice low enough so that only the blonde next to you could hear. βYou shouldnβt do that.β
The man glanced up at you, not at all ashamed of what he was doing. βWhatβs that?β
βYou shouldnβt steal.β
He let out a quiet laugh, leaning his upper body against the shelf. βOh, really?β He asked, voice drawing out into a tease. βWanna tell me why I shouldnβt, babe?β
You gestured to the store around you, eyes meeting his. βBecause, its wrong. And, just because you and your friends canβt see that, doesnβt mean that itβs right.β
βWell, me and my friends seem to think it pretty damn fun.β He told you, pushing off the shelf as he took a few small steps towards you. βSo, your reasoning is pretty much useless in this case.β
The guy stood a mere foot away from you, his eyes trailing across your face. His smile growing ever so slightly as he took you in. βSo, watcha gonna do about it?β He asked, voice soft and teasing as he held a tape infront of you.Β
βPut it back.β
βWhy? There is no fun in doing the right thing.β He waved the item in your face. βIs there, babe?β
You snatched the cassette from his grasp, eyes not once leaving his as you placed it randomly on the shelf. βPut βem all back.β You scolded, voice rising ever so slightly. βItβs shitty and disrespectful for the ones that try to make a living working in places like this.β
He glanced over the top rack, eyeing the worker with disinterest. βYeah, but, itβs also disrespectful to have to work at a place like this.β He turned back to you. βSo, if he gets fired then heβll come and thank us.β
You opened your mouth to retaliate, wanting to tell him how much his point didnβt make since. When you notice how quiet the store had gotten, the music coming from the speakers and the worker picking up the cds were the only thing. Glancing around you couldnβt see the guys friends, all of them gone from where they originally were.Β
βYeah, Paul, put it back.β A voiced suddenly called from beside you, arm slinging itself across your shoulder.Β
Peering beside you, you saw the curly haired guy, his eyes dancing between both you and Paul. You didnβt even hear him come up behind you, in fact you didnβt even know that he had moved from where he was across the store.Β
You pushed off his arm, the feeling of his body pressed up against your own made your face heat up. Looking back at Paul, you noticed how his body seemed to get more ecstatic, smile forming into a friendly tease. βOh, yeah? Why donβt you put up that vinyl of yours.β He tapped against the cardboard beneath the fabric.Β
Curly swatted his hand away, pulling the vinyl from beneath his shirt and dropping it on the floor. You eyed the disc on the ground, annoyance seeping into your chest at the disregard of store.Β
βPick it up.β You told the smaller one, side stepping away from them both to give yourself some room.Β
He tsked, eyes roaming your body up and down. βWell, arenβt you a bossy one.β
βI wouldnβt be bossy if youβd stop fucking-β
βWatch your mouth.β A different voice spoke up, stopping you from finishing your sentence. You glanced over at the voice, taking in his long overcoat and bleach blonde hair. βItβs not nice to treat strangers that way.β
You furrowed you eyebrows, βIf your saying Iβm being rude, than thatβs really the last thing I care about right now.β
A few small snickers came from around you, causing you to look around at each men that surrounded you. The two blondes stood the closest to you, giving you just a foot of breathing room. Then there were the the bleach blonde and brunette. They stood the furthest from you, but their stares alone were enough to make you feel like they were everywhere at once.Β
Your body felt like it was on fire underneath their gazes, that and your dignity slowly burning away as realized how much of a fool you must look like right now.Β You quickly crouched down, picking up the vinyl and gently setting it on the shelf. Not really caring that itβs not where it belongs right now.Β
Someone cleared their throat. You and the guys turned your attention towards the worker, who stood behind the counter with a wet rag. βWeβre closing.β He told them, nodding toward the door with little patience. βIf your gonna buy something, now is the time.β
You gave him a quick βokβ, forced smile gracing your features as you turned to face the men. You eyed them wearyingly, knowing that they could just easily walk out of here without doing at all what youβve been asking.Β
A soft chuckle came from the bleach blonde, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he placed a hand on Paulβs shoulder. βCβmon, Paul.β He said, turning to walk out of the store. βPut βem back, we got places to be.βΒ
You watched as he pulled out a cd, the front of the case covered in a band called Scorpion. He set it down on the shelf, his eyes not once leaving your own. βWeβll see you around.β He muttered, voice low and mesmerizing to hear as he spoke.
It was almost like a fly getting caught in honey. Alluring and sticky, but, itβs just a trap for the prey.Β
You didnβt acknowledge his words, instead you just watched as he walked out, the others slowly trailing after him. The brunette hadnβt muttered a single word since entering the store, and apparently didnβt feel the need to as he stepped outside.Β
Curly slowly wandered towards the door, turning swiftly to wave his fingers at you before disappearing behind the glass. A simple βHave a nice nightβ spilling from his lips as he did so. Paul then turned to walked out, his arm resting across your shoulder slide off. Hand coming up to pinch your nose. βYeah, weβll be seeing ya around.β He told you, voice indicating that it wasnβt a suggestion, but more of a promise.Β
Swatting his hand away from your face, you watched as he chuckled, walking away as he went to join his friends. Leaving you all alone in the isle, with nothing but your Elvis tape and flustered face.Β
Engines revved outside as you walked up to the cashier, the sound of the fading bikes meeting your ears as you tossed the cassette on the counter. The worker rang you up, placed your item in a paper bag and thanked you for your purchase. You quietly wished him good night, before turning on your heal and walking outside.Β
You were quickly met with the warm night air, the loud noises coming from the boardwalk surrounded you once more. You held on tightly to the paper bag, the cassette softly rattling inside as you quickly walked away from the Soundscape.Β
You were still flustered from your interaction with the four boys. The feeling of their bodies pressed up against your own made the night heat all the more unbearable. What if I would have just left them alone? You thought, swerving through a group of people that waited patiently for the carousel.Β
They still would have taken from the shop, and that guy wouldβve probably lost his job from all the items missing. But, you wouldnβt have lost some of your dignity whilst doing so.Β
A sigh left your lips, unoccupied hand going into your jacket pocket. Though instead of the feeling of the scratchy fabric, your fingers graced against a peice of cold plastic. You stopped walking, standing by your lonesome in the middle of the boardwalk as you pulled out whatever rested in your pocket.Β
It was a Scorpion cd. The same one that you saw the bleach blonde pull from his coat. You hadnβt even felt him slip the item in your pocket, was it when you were getting on to him or when he was leaving? Was he even the one that slipped it in?
Stupid prick, you thought. Stuffing the disk into the paper bag with your Elvis one, there was no sense in returning it now. The shop was already closing up and how would you even explain that to the poor worker.Β
You shook your head, the events of the night tiring you out.Β
From a distance you could see both Sam and Micheal standing in the middle of the boardwalk, their attention caught on a girl and little boy. You made your way over to your brothers, the paper bag swaying in your hand as your feet picked up.Β
Sam greeted you when you came near, his long over coat brushing against his shoes. βHeβs been following her since the concert.β He told you, gesturing with his hand towards the pretty girl.Β
βMmh, hey, peeping Tom.β You tugged on Micheal sleeve, trying to pull him away. βIβm ready to go home.β
He didnβt acknowledge you, his eyes staring longingly at the back of the girls head. You pulled once more at his arm, barely getting him to move when the sudden loud noise of multiple vehicles rushed on the boardwalk. Glancing towards the disturbance, you watched as four familiar bodies stopped infront of the girl and boy.Β
They each revved their engines, purposely scaring away anyone that too close. You watched as the little boy made his way over to one of the motorcycles, the brunette pulling him up to sit behind him.Β
The girl placed her arm across the bleach blondes chest, hosting herself onto the back of the motorcycle. βCβmon, man, she played you.β Sam told his brother, pulling him away from his rooted spot on the deck. You stayed put for a second, slowly trailing after your brothers as the engines of the bikes faded from earshot.Β
Your mind going to when exactly youβd be seeing them again.Β
A/a/n: Like I said, this took so long to figure out how exactly the reader and the boys would meet each other. So, I honestly would understand if y'all donβt like this, but, trust me the other chapters are going to be a whole lot better.
High school au where the batboys are teenagers of age 15-18. Damian being 15, Tim being 16, Jason being 17, and dick being 18. You, the reader are their childhood friend. You are arenβt popular like the boys who are the rich boys of the Gotham academy. You are just a simple student whoβs not known, so you donβt hang out with the boys at school much. You are almost 16, being in the middle of the age of Damian and Tim. You are closest to the two youngest of the brothers, dick and Jason are not close with you, but they think they are.
Dick is the type of guy who always waved at you despite being surrounded by his peers which make them stare at you intensely.
Jason is the type of guy to ask you if you need to ride even though he rejects people that ask to ride his motorcycle.
Tim is the type of guy who ask if you understand the work or need help. Always suggesting a tutoring session together at the manor. When really he sees it as a study date.
Damian who always give you small gifts, he knows you hate attention just like him. So he gives you small meaningful gifts just so you can still tell he cares for you.
Even if you donβt want their attention at the school, itβs bad enough that these batboys canβt help but love their childhood best friend.
at first i was looking at michaelβs dumb himbo walk and then i spotted poor marko struggling w his bike in the background LMAO
HELP THE BOY
Summary: Youβre pissed at Dean, and Sam and Bobby find it amusing.
Word count: 0.9k
A/n: Once more not my favorite, but still hope you guys enjoy :)
ΰΌΊββββββββββββββΰΌ»
The silence you gave off aggravated Dean to a higher level. And he didnβt know how to fix it. Heβd apologized, tried to cheer you up with a slice of pie, he even listened to both Sam and Bobby on how he could make it up to you.Β
But to no avail, you barely spoke to the poor man.Β
He knew it was his fault, anyone could have told him that. In fact you reminded him plenty of times on the ride back from the case. God, that ride back to Bobbyβs was dreadful, you made Sam sit in the backseat and wouldnβt even let Dean turn his music up all the way either.Β
But, he would take that as punishment, if that would mean you would speak to him again.Β
βSo,β Bobby started, voice low as he watched you leave the small library of his. βWhat did you do to her?β
Sam bit back a laugh, hand coming up to his his smile from his brother. βShut up.β Dean told him, hands coming up to rub his face. The long quiet drive back having drained his battery. βI donβt want to talk about it.β
Bobby leaned against the desk, arms crossed over the other as he stared at the younger man. βWhat do you mean, βI donβt want to talk about itβ? Sheβs barley looked or even spoken to you since youβve been here. Now, what the hell did you do?β
βI- I messed up on the hunt, ok.β He finally told him, head hanging low for a second before meeting the manβs eyes again. βWe were hunting the shapeshifter, and we were lead to an old drinking well out at a farm.β
Dean let out a deep sigh before continuing, βAnd you know Sam and I were to big and too heavy to go down the well, so Y/n had to do it.β
βSo you, what? Forced her down the well, threw her down?βΒ
βNo.β Dean muttered, slowly pacing the small library. βNo, we tied a rope around her and we hoisted her up and over into the well, and-β
βWe?β Sam asked, a playful smile dancing across his lips. βI think I went back to the farm house and tried to find the shapeshifter.β
βOk, then, I hoisted her up and into the well.β He corrected, shooting an annoyed look at his brother. βAnd it was going great, I had a firm grip on the rope, she didnβt slip. Butβ¦β
Bobby quirked an eyebrow, βBut?β
βBut, we found the rope in an old shed, and as I was lowering her down the well, I saw- I felt a uh.β Dean lowered his voice, embarrassment seeping its way into his body. βA spider.β
βA what?β
βA spider.β Dean told him a bit louder.Β
Bobby looked between both Dean and his brother, taking in the shame one had and the other trying to hold in his laughter. βDean, what did you do?β
βI let go of the rope, by accident.β
A chuckle forced its way past his lips, a hand coming up to hide his ever growing smile. βSo, what your telling me is that you dropped Y/n down a water well, because you saw a spider?β
βYou wouldnβt understand,β Dean tried to defend himself, his tone rising as both Sam and Bobby erupted into fits of laughter. βIt crawled up my hands, got under my shirt. It was gonna bite me.β
βShe had to ride the whole way here in soggy clothes, because we didnβt bring any dry clothes with us.β Sam told Bobby,Β
Bobby laughed a bit more at the younger man actions, a hand coming up to wipe away at his eyes. βLook kid, just be nice to her, sheβll have to forgive you sooner or later.β He told Dean, keeping his voice low as he heard you make your way back to them.Β
You came back with three beers in hand, passing two off to both Sam and Bobby before opening your own. Dean held out his hand expecting you to place a glass bottle in it for him, but just watched as you sit behind the desk taking slow deliberate sips of your drink.Β
βI would like a beer.β Dean told you, hand coming back down to rest by his side.Β
βRan out.β You told him bluntly, flicking through a book that sat on top the desk.Β
Dean pulled his lips into a thin line, dodging both Sam and Bobbyβs eyes. βWhat do we have?β He asked, needing something to quench his thirst.Β
You looked up at the older man, pretending to ponder the question. βWe have water.β
βThen can I have water?β A cough came from his side, glancing over he caught Bobby and Sam giving him a look. βPlease?β
A sigh left your lips before you got up once more, disappearing past the doorway and into the kitchen. βSee,β Bobby told him, taking a quick sip of his beer. βJust be a little nice and sheβll forgive you in no time.β
You retured quickly, placing a cup onto the bookshelf next to Dean. Reaching over he picked up the cup, twisting it in front of him, a small scowl resting on his face as he faced you. βThis is ice, Y/n.β
βYep.β You told him, returning to your seat.Β
βI asked for water.β
βYou can wait.β
Dean let out a sigh, placing the cup back onto the bookshelf, βI can wait.β
Summary: Castiel has been experiencing some rather strange emotions, especially ones that revolve around you.
Word count: 1.7k
A/n: No one really writes about Cas, and itβs a shame because him, Sam and Dean are my absolute favorite. But I hope you enjoy ;)
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He could feel it coming up again, that same burning feeling in his chest that keeps him up deep into the night. Not that he can sleep to begin with, but still the feeling invaded his every thought as he waited for you and the brothers to wake up.Β
Cas didnβt know how to explain it, these strange human emotions that he had learned over the years, he didnβt understand them. He knew the ones that you and the boys had taught him, how it helped him learn to express how he felt to others. And he was truly grateful for it.Β
But, the ones that he was never taught always worried him. Like when he could feel when someone is staring at him, even though nobody is in the room with him. Or even worse when you are near, or when you touch his shoulder when you walk past him, or how about when you speak to him so beautifully that he feels his stomach churning into a weird fluttery feeling.Β
There must be something wrong, Cas would conclude, pacing the bunkerβs library in the dead of night. Maybe you had been taken over by a shapeshifter and this was the universes way of warning him.Β
Yeah, that had to be it, but how would he tell Sam and Dean that? For Chucks sake you are one of their closest friends, how could he tell them that they would need to kill you?
No. No, he couldnβt kill you. He just needs to figure it out a bit more by morning, he couldnβt just go on a killing spree. It wouldnβt be right.Β
But if you were in danger or you are the danger then he would need to speak to the brothers about this. But, how?
Cas sat across from you and Dean, Sam to his right of the booth as he stared out the fogged window. The falling snow momentarily capturing his attention, the way each flake was built uniquely different from the other.Β
It amazed him how something so beautiful could end up in a world like this.Β
βHey, Happy meal.β Dean suddenly spoke up, dragging Cas away from the window. βYou gonna focus, or are we gonna have to tell you while we fight the sons of a bitches?β
βIβm focused.β Cas told the older man, his hands coming to rest in his lap.Β
βMhm, yeah sure.βΒ
Sam cleared his throat, turning his computer to face the others as he began to explain the current case to them. βSo, Sophia Cocklen had reported her husband missing, nearly a month ago. And as of three days ago both her brother and eldest son have disappeared as well.β
βHas to have something to do with the men,β you spoke up, dipping a French fry in your ketchup before popping it in your mouth. βBecause Sophiaβs sister, mother and two daughters hadnβt been touched at all over the past month.β
Sam nodded, clicking on another tab as some police reports popped on screen. βThatβs what I thought as well, but the thing is that none of them have any bad records on there name. Andβ¦β
Sams voice seemed to drift off, running farther and farther from his ears as the same burning feeling began to arise from his chest. He glanced at you for a quick second, the way you looked at your work and took it seriously. The way your eyes seemed to have a small sparkle in them when you spoke.Β
And especially the way your hair slightly fell in front of your eyes, hiding that sparkle that made his stomach erupt. It made him want to reach over the table and push it out of your way, just so he could catch another glimpse ofβ¦
You pushed your hair out of your face, halting Casβs thoughts completely. Why was he thinking that? What were you and the boys talking about? Why did his bodyβs vessel feel so warm and sweaty? Was it getting hotter? What if you had turned evil? What if this was your way to slowly kill him off?
Him. Castiel, an angel of the Lord. Struck down by a woman that was more than likely possessed by a monster.Β
βCas?β You questioned, facing the angelic being who seemed to be almost in a trance. βYou alright? You look like your sweaty.β
Cas pulled at the collar of his trench coat, the feeling of sweat sliding down his neck. Boy, did he hate how the human body can physically act when you donβt need it to.Β
βYes,β He told you rubbing his hands against his pants legs. βYes Iβm fine itβs just a little warm in here is all.β
βReally?β Dean asked, taking a quick sip from his lukewarm coffee. βItβs pretty cold in here to me, what about you Sam? Y/n?β
βDean.βΒ
βIβm just saying, you gotta focus in, Cas. Youβve been acting real edgy for the last couple of weeks.β
βIβm fine,β Cas told him, trying not to drag the situation down the rabbit hole. βItβs probably justβ¦ allergies.βΒ
The boys and you shred a quick look with one another, knowing well enough that angels donβt have allergies. βCassie?β You questioned leaning forward onto the table. βYou donβt get allergies.β
Cas felt his face warm up, βThat was just the first thing that came to mind.β He told you, his fingers fiddling with one another. βThatβs what you all do.β
Dean smacked his lips, letting out a quick ok before continuing with his conversation. βAs I was saying we need to go and search every place that these men where last seen at. And normally I would say go by ourselves to save them, but Iβm not so sure what we are up against just yet. So Sam and I will head down to the bar the brother was last seen and Cas, you and Y/n can go and search the junkyard.β
Everyone agreed to Deans order, quickly finishing up their lunch before they need to head back out. Well almost everyone agreed. Cas sat there in his seat, pondering if he should pull Dean or Sam aside and ask if these feelings he is getting about you is bad or good. Because he does not want to harm others but at the same time he didnβt want to hurt you either.Β
He wanted to beat his head against the table, the thoughts that raced through his mind aggravated him. But what could he do about it? Wait⦠you and him were going to the junkyard to search for clues of the missing family members, he himself could interrogate you there. But, how?
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At the junkyard, you and Cas kept you voices low, barley speaking a word to one another as you inspected the place. Your flashlight shined about the place, scoping out any and all items that could appear useful for the case.Β
βSo, Sam said that the dad and son used to work here. Almost like a father-son business, you know?β You told him, shining the light in the angels direction, mindful not to blind him in the eye.Β
He nodded, unable to stop the fluttery filling the further he walked with you. It was killing him, he wanted to ask you what you were doing, because he knew for a fact it was neither of the boys. But, at the same time he didnβt know how to bring it up.Β
On one hand he could slowly bring up the topic, have a simple conversation before he would ask you. Though, on the other hand, he could just flat out ask you if you were trying to kill him. Because, thatβs what it surely felt like. That you were killing him slowly and purposefully.
Cas came to a quick decision, he would hold a conversation with you then ask you. Simple as that, no harm no foul.Β
βCassie?β You asked, that soft voice of yours causing his chest to burn and his stomach to twist into knots. What the hell were you doing to him? βAre you alright-β
βAre you trying to kill me?β
You were shocked by his sudden question, his straightforward tone and seriousness catching you off guard completely. ββ¦ No?β
βIt sure doesnβt seem that way.β He continued to accuse, folding his arms over his chest like heβd seen Dean do plenty of times before. βWould you care tell why you are trying to kill me?β
βBut, Iβm not?β You told him, voice uncertain and slightly laced with worthy. βWhy would you think that?β
Cas glanced around the junkyard, almost as if the answer was somewhere written in the piles upon piles of junk. βMy chest has been burning every time you come close to me, or how about when my stomach make me feel like my vessel is going to induce vomiting. When I know for a fact that I donβt eat anything to make it do so.β
You stood silently, letting the words sink deep into your skin. His chest burned? His stomach felt like he was going to throw up? Why the hell would he have thought that you were trying to kill him? It honestly just sounded like his vessel was sick, or maybe heβ
You cut your thoughts short, and it suddenly clicked in your mind. A sly smile gracing your lips as you walked towards the angel. βOh, Cassie~β You sang out, free hand coming to play with the sleeve of his trench coat. βDo you have a crush on me?β
Cas furrowed his brows, eyes dancing across your face as you came closer. ββ¦No? At least I donβt think so.β
A chuckle left your lips, standing up on your tip toes you gave the angel a quick kiss on his check. Watching as a light blush crept upon his cheeks. βI like you too, Cassie.β You turned back to the junkyard, flashing your light at an empty bathtub and broken mattress, leaving the poor angel stuck in his spot.Β
Cas lifted a hand to where you had kissed him, the ghost of your lips making his heart stutter in his chest. Damn you, he thought to himself. Damn you and these strange human emotions.Β
"Writing's hard.""There only noodles, Micheal."HUGE FANDOM HOPPER!
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