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starryficsfinishwen · 4 months

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“If I don't finish this paperwork right now, I will yeet myself off of Babylonia.”

“Hell yeah! And I'm going with ya!”

You believed there were only two braincells left in the beefy, red-haired man's head. But right now, they were fighting for third place, alongside your own overworked ones.

“Noctis,” You giggled, placing your pen and crumpled paper on the table, “I wholeheartedly appreciate the support. But I'd rather you stay so you can at least inform Celica about my whereabouts.”

“No,” Noctis hummed, “I can't do that. I can tag along so that you wouldn't be alone drifting in space.”

Sitting across you, meaty arms crossed, Noctis waited patiently. Although, you felt guilty, the man who had been staying with you for several hours. You had him shooed away earlier, yet, as hard as the chest plate he has, he still came back. Noctis' stubbornness was a charm that made you feel for him in the first place. At the same time, it was also his Achilles' heel. But that's another story for today.

“You know,” you cleared your throat, “You don't always have to stay here...”

“Commandant, here you go again,” Sighing with a pout on his scarred face, Noctis groaned, “I said I'm perfectly fine being here. Don't worry!”

“I'm worried that you'd get bored.”

“No problemo,” he shrugged, grinning, “Cerberus is free from any maintenance or missions.”

The idea of Vera and her angry tone that reminded of a mother, looking for the man who was the embodiment of chaos, made you reel back. You leaned to the table, hand supporting your chin, “I suppose that's the case. But what if Vera comes? Won't you be scared?”

“Of who? Vera? Hah! As if,” Noctis started laughing (at this point, your heart skipped a beat, tummy bursting with little butterflies fluttering), “It's fine. Really. She won't be looking for me.”

“Besides,” he quickly added, “What if you do jump out of Babylonia. You'd end up wandering in space alone!”

Sometimes, you wonder if you should tone down your humor. Yet, you still indulged in his fantasies.

“Ah,” you feigned a gasp, “What if I dive into the Earth like a meteor and fall?”

“I'd follow you, then!”

“But we'll be broke there!”

“Like you said, we can always go back to the bar,” Noctis' eyes started shimmering, “or-or, we can be travelling merchants! Exchange all the broken parts of a corrupted so we can get some money!”

Ah, stupid, yet ambitious dreams. It made you question if Noctis' braincells were still intact, or simply, they were busy doing something else.

“I mean,” quickly, Noctis spoke before you could, “They're not bad ideas. But don't you think Babylonia's facilities are better than being in a soaking hot desert?”

And you decided to go with it. “Hmm, true...”

“If the paperworks are your problem, then why don't we yeet that one off of Babylonia instead?”

And face Celica's wrath? Probably not. You contemplated a witty remark, but Noctis went quiet. Looking at him, his maroon eyes were trained to you.

“I may not know a lot of those technicalities,” his voice suddenly goes soft, his eyes a shimmer of an unknown emotion that you've never seen before from him, “but...if there is anything, anything that I can do, let me know.”

Oh? This was new. For a buffy, "violence-is-the-answer" kind of man, this was surprising to you, that your mouth went agape, seemingly unable to let your hand function to pick up the papers on the table. Noticing your reaction, Noctis shook his head, the raucous expression back on his face.

“B-but if it's writing the documents, then, hell no!”

You blinked. And blinked again. And an intrusive thought came to you. You raised your hand, so slightly, beckoning him to approach you. He followed, seemingly like a puppy. Once he was beside you, you turned to him and stood up. Although your height was at a disadvantage (you barely reached his broad shoulders), you stared so deeply into his maroon eyes. The distance, in which you've noticed was closer now— the heat bouncing off of each other, him looking down to meet you.

“Noctis?” you quietly called out.

“Co...commandant?”

“Will you” you breathed, so softly, “...will you let me touch your titties?”

Silence. And then, you busted out laughing. With a puzzled, yet amused look on his face, you couldn't help but break into another fit of laughter.

“Ah-haha!” you wiped a few tears coming out of your eyes, “S-sorry, Noctis, I was just joking-”

“-Go ahead!”

Another silence. Based on his clueless expression, mixed with joy, you thought this man probably misheard you.

“I- what?”

“You wanted to touch my titties, right?” Beaming, he spoke with a hint of excitement, “Go ahead!”

Suddenly, you weren't so such if your choices in life were right. That, or braincells were in the same grade as Noctis'. After a careful debate with yourself, you reached out anyway, hand now on one of his titties pecs. Squeezing it so gently, you realized an epiphany.

“Commandant, I thought you exercised,” Noctis asked, seemingly unsatisfied with your actions, “squeeze them harder!”

So you do. Squeezing them like a stress ball. Noctis, still unsatisfied, took your free hand and placed it in the other titties pecs. Somehow, you started to squeeze both of them. All the stress from earlier started to melt away— the paperwork, the fatigue, your caffeine addiction— as your braincells decided to merge with Noctis', all fighting for the last place.

“See!” You and Noctis laughed, decided to mush your face into his cushioned chest, “I knew I could help!”

“Thank you,” you were, genuine and true, “I didn't know that this was therapeutic.”

Except you've always wanted to do this for a long time. Seeing the genuine joy on your face, you failed to notice Noctis' expression softening. Although mechanical, his heart skipped faster, and you recognized that.

“...but you know,” he muttered, “living on Earth doesn't seem half bad.”

He thought you didn't know, but you caught him whispering, “...as long as it's with you.”

Fuck work. Living on Earth didn't seem to feel bad, indeed. Temporarily stopping, you tugged him by his dogtag, a soft, quick kiss to the side of his jaw and cheek. A mirrored pink blush on both of your faces.

“I'll hold on to it.”

a.n. - there is actually a planned story for all the husbandos of PGR. I wanted to just find out about Noctis and his story. look where this brainrot got me LMAO I now realize I wanna,,,mash my face onto his titties

p.s. - also new theme for me yeeey

#pgr #punishing gray raven #punishing gray raven imagines #pgr commandant #pgr noctis #this came to me so suddenly #I didn't even blink #hence why I am writing this down #pgr noctis x reader

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ashxketchum · 3 years

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Better than Usual - (another) TyHil oneshot

So I’m deciding to post this here as well, because I was super happy with how it turned out, even though the prompt for this one was dancing and I didn’t stick to it even a little bit. It has to be my favourite oneshot from the series, I think I enjoyed writing this one even more than the overprotective Tyson one, despite of that one having probably the best dialogue my brain has ever come up with in a dream.

Some background: Tyson and Hilary are in their early 20s in this one, and kind of stuck in the middle where they know they’re more than friends but don’t know what exactly. The party is Hiro’s engagement party, you can decide who he’s engaged to, I didn’t go deep into that bit!

Summary: Hilary’s mood for the night is ruined when Tyson fails to deliver a simple compliment, could dancing really be the solution to their problems?

FF.net

“How do I look?”

“The usual.”

Hilary felt vain and silly, but she couldn’t get his words out of her head. She hoped that the smile she had somehow managed to plaster on her face just as she had entered the venue, was enough to fool everyone into believing that she was feeling extremely happy for the engaged couple and not at all upset about the conversation she had had with her so-called best friend just about an hour ago. She was doubting their friendship because she couldn’t believe that someone who cared about her would speak so callously to her. The friend in question however, didn’t seem to be mulling over the conversation at all, she watched him dance stupidly with his friends from across the room. Grinning and laughing without a single care in the world, and as he did so, everyone around him followed like they were somehow compelled to. His happiness had always carried with it a certain kind of gravity, that automatically pulled everyone around him to feel the same, which is why she had chosen to seat herself far away, lest she got pulled in too and forgot all about the crime he had committed.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” The empty chair next to her slid back and the blond settled comfortably in it, passing her an inquisitive look as he rested both his elbows on the table and lowered his chin into his palms.

“I don’t really dance.” Hilary replied, as casually as she could manage.

She looked in front of her, at her glass of champagne lying untouched on the table and observed the bubbles popping up and about within the drink. Unlike her friends and probably every other person her age, the brunette still hadn’t managed to get used to the taste of alcohol, but was too stubborn to admit this out loud to anyone and too polite to say no to a drink in social situations. However, she had come to realize that stretching the same glass of drink from the beginning of the evening till the end had it’s own sets of advantages, one of them being that she always had something in her hand that served as a distraction from her surroundings.

“You don’t dance?” Max asked, his laugh reaching his blue eyes and they twinkled mischievously for just a moment, “Remind me how long we’ve known each other?”

Hilary shook her head defeatedly, and avoiding his gaze she picked up the glass of champagne in front of her and took a light sip, making sure to do this as slowly as possible so she could continue to avoid looking into Max’s direction.

“Let me rephrase my question, what did Tyson do this time?”

Ignoring his question, she took another light sip from her drink, letting her tongue adjust to the taste before repeating the process once again at an extremely slow pace, but next to her Max seemed completely unfazed by her actions and continued to look at her expectantly. It was a difficult task for anyone, to hold their own against Max’s big blue eyes that always carried a special glint in them that made one want to spill all their thoughts out to the blond, who seemed to enjoy listening to other people’s problems more than he normally let on.

She knew the battle was over the minute she decided to spare him a glance, just to check if he was still waiting for her to answer.

Their eyes met, Max grinned and Hilary let out a groan.

“Do you know how long it took me to do up my hair today?” She began through gritted teeth, setting the glass back down on the table, as gently as she could, “Almost two hours, Max! So when Tyson came to pick me up, I asked him how I looked and you won’t believe what he said!”

Max knew very well that he wasn’t supposed to answer when the brunette paused to take a deep breath, her face now flushed and fuming.

“He said, ‘the usual’. What is that supposed to mean?”

Hilary angrily crossed her arms against her chest and slumped in her chair slightly, not caring about creasing her dress as she had decided she was not going to vacate this chair and sulk silently until it was time to go home. She rarely ever fished for compliments from Tyson, she knew better than that. He had no filter, and most of the time asking him for an opinion on something was the same thing as starting an argument, as they still disagreed on pretty much anything except that day was day and night was night. But considering that they were both dressed up for a celebration, she had assumed that even Tyson would take note of her appearance and how much effort she had put into it, which had obviously been the wrong way to go. If she could turn back time, Hilary would go back and not ask Tyson how she looked, and prevent herself from ruining her mood and her evening by sitting in a corner and not being out there on the floor next to him.

“Well you’re more well versed in Tyson-speak than I am, so if you can’t make any sense of it, I’m sorry but I don’t think I can be of much help, Hils.” Max replied, passing her a sympathetic smile, his eyes roamed over her hair that had been braided into a flower crown that framed her head perfectly, “I know I’m not the person you want to hear this from, but your hair does look pretty. You look pretty!” Max remarked, breaking into his trademark grin once again.

Hilary felt the anger that had suddenly built up inside of her as she replayed that moment in her mind subside gradually and when she smiled in response at Max, it was vastly different than the one she had been sporting all evening.

“Thank you, Max. Now if you could just share that common sense braincell with your dear friend as well.”

There was a pause after she finished speaking, in which they both exchanged similar looks before bursting into a fit of giggles at her statement. Hilary was a bit too lost in the moment, which is why she didn’t immediately notice the chair on her other side being pulled back until after it was occupied.

“What are you guys talking about?”

Tyson asked as he relaxed into the chair, his midnight blue hair which had been neatly flattened at the start of the evening by his father, had already begun to stand up spikily in different directions like it usually did. Hilary had to keep her one hand tightly over the other in her lap to stop herself from instinctively reaching out and fixing it. You’re mad at him, she reminder herself, turning her angry gaze downwards to her lap, as if to scold her hands for moving on their own accord. Despite of being on his feet ever since they arrived, Tyson didn’t look tired, in fact he seemed to be oozing more energy than before and Hilary was afraid of the sudden lack of distance between them because she was sure she would get sucked into his flow and forget all about being angry with him, sooner than she had expected to.

“Nothing that would interest you.” Max answered, when she glanced at the blond, she noticed that the mischievous twinkle from earlier appeared again in his eyes as he met her gaze for a brief moment before he turned to smirk at his best friend.

The silence that followed was definitely more uncomfortable than when she had been sitting alone, she sneaked a peek at Tyson and saw that he was trying his best to not glare daggers at Max, who, Hilary noticed, was grinning now, taking joy in the reaction that Tyson had sent his way. She heard shuffling and saw Tyson shift his chair closer to hers, he draped his arm around the back of her chair, his fingers brushing against her bare shoulders as he did so. The warmth that always seemed to emanate from Tyson now enveloped her cheeks and Hilary hoped that the two boys being busy with their silent staring contest would fail to notice the redness on her face.

“Taking a break from dancing already, Tys? They’re still playing your favourite songs.” Max spoke finally, his smirk still intact.

“Yeah well, I saw you two talking so…” Tyson trailed off, shifting his gaze from Max to Hilary, a pout settling on his face, indicating that he wasn’t happy with being left out.

How typical, she thought and stopped herself from rolling her eyes at him.

“Hilary looked a bit lonely by herself, so I decided to keep her company.” Max shrugged, taking pleasure in the growing discomfort on Tyson’s face.

She tried her best to keep her eyes away from Tyson, because she knew if she saw him act like a child who had just lost their most prized possession, she would melt immediately. Not that Hilary considered herself to be his most prized possession, on most days she even doubted if she was his anything. They were friends that much was certain, he was her best friend, she was sure of that, but was she his best friend? This was something she could never be confident about. Even if they spent all their time together and she knew everything there was to know about him, and vice versa, there were always moments when the distance between them would become as wide as the one between the sea and the sky, even when they happened to be sitting right next to each other.

Although as disheartening as those moments were for her, it wasn’t as frustrating as trying to interpret Tyson’s real intentions towards her. Hilary couldn’t believe how much time she had spent trying to figure out what his bizarre statements meant, what him suddenly taking her hand when they walked through crowds meant. Why did he show up at her door with her favourite take-out exactly when she needed him, why when she called him at 4 am in the morning, crying over a silly nightmare, he would answer on the first ring and say exactly what she needed to hear. Why he always danced with her and stayed by her side when they went out partying, why he’d get annoyed if someone else dared to flirt with her. Her mother of course, told her she’d find the answers to these questions much quicker if she just confronted Tyson directly, but Hilary knew that she was supposed to the reach the conclusion by herself. It was, however grudgingly she had admitted to herself, the most difficult puzzle she’d ever attempted to solve in her entire life.

Right now for instance, just about an hour ago he had almost expressionlessly told her that she looked normal, not pretty or gorgeous, terms that people used to compliment a girl, Tyson had told her she looked usual. And yet, here he was scooting closer to her, putting his arm around her as if to mark territory and glaring at his friend, who anyone with a sane mind would be able to tell was just trying to get under Tyson’s skin anyway. And to add to the confusion she couldn’t stop agonising over how easily she was always affected by him and his actions. How she was still feeling upset about him not complimenting her, still feeling nervous about his hand behind her back, still feeling curious about whether he was falling for Max’s ruse and still feeling giddy over his jealousy for her.

It was completely unfair, she concluded to herself, for him to be able to be his oblivious self while he sent her feelings in disarray by just sitting down next to her for a few minutes.

Hilary finally dared to peek at Tyson, he looked disappointed somehow, thinking over what Max had said. Then their eyes met and she looked away quickly, heart racing.

Tyson didn’t speak for a while and even Max’s attention seemed to have wavered, Hilary followed the blond’s gaze to find him amusingly watching Chief attempting to show off his tap dancing skills to Ming-ming, who Hilary noticed, seemed to be actually impressed by their spectacled friend.

“Are you going to be able to finish this by today?”

Tyson asked her suddenly, changing the subject instead of addressing Max’s statement from earlier, as he gestured towards Hilary’s almost full glass of champagne. Not knowing whether opening her mouth would lead to her berating him for his insensitive remark from earlier or bumbling like an idiot because he had edged even closer, Hilary simply shook her head silently. Tyson then picked up her glass from the table and downed the drink in one go, this seemed to have grabbed Max’s attention as he snickered when Tyson put the now empty glass back down at the table. Hilary rolled her eyes, much to her dismay, her only escape mechanism for the night had been taken away and now she’d actually have to leave this chair to go get another drink for herself.

Like an electric shock, Tyson’s hand grabbed her wrist, jolting her out of her train of thought.

“Hey, don’t you love this song?”

Was all he said before pulling her on her feet with extreme ease and dragging her to the dance floor, without waiting for a response from her. As they left the table behind, Hilary heard Max’s laughter fade and before she could process what was actually happening, she was already in the middle of the floor, Tyson’s one hand was entwined with hers, while the other rested over her back, her own idle hand shot up and settled on Tyson’s shoulder before she even willed it to.

She was supposed to be mad at him, the thought came running back into her mind.

But then the music floated into her ears and she realized, that she did indeed love this song and Tyson had remembered.

Hilary knew there was no point in trying to hide the blush that was covering her face as she raised her head to look at Tyson. She had never appreciated the way the difference in their height had grown over the years, always buying shoes with heels to try and match his height, but even with the stilettos that she had donned today, the top of her head reached just below his chin. As always she was left no option but to gaze up at him which always made her heart race because she could never find fault with him when she looked up at him from this viewpoint, something she suspected that Tyson had also gotten aware of lately. He had been waiting for her to look up at him, when their eyes met, he grinned widely at her and somehow at that exact moment, the beat changed and he twirled her around masterfully before pulling her into him once again.

She was supposed to be mad at him, but she giggled happily anyway.

The song changed but they continued dancing, Tyson laughed and led while Hilary giggled and followed.

Their excitement rubbed off on the other guests and soon the dance floor was full with more people and couples than it had been when Tyson had grabbed her hand. The warm, happy feeling that was spreading across her made her wonder how she had managed to sit so far away from him and deny herself the bliss that came from being around Tyson. Sure he may not be an expert in showering her with compliments, but he definitely knew how to make her laugh and that was more than something most people ever got in life. It was infuriating however still, that despite of making her feel so happy, every time his hand dropped a little bit lower on her back, every time his eyes met hers, every time he smiled at her, every time he laughed with her, he still made her feel breathless and nervous and somehow all over the place.

“You’re so unfair.” Hilary murmured to herself, as she rested her head on his chest, untwisting her hand from his, she shifted it onto his shoulder, sighing contently. Tyson put both his hands around her waist and pulled her just a little bit closer into himself, making her sigh again.

“Unfair, how?”

She was surprised by his response, she thought she wouldn’t be audible but he’d heard her nonetheless. His voice was low too, and as he spoke, he lowered his head slightly to rest his chin on top of her head. She felt the warmth travel from the top all the way to her toes but she knew if she sighed again, Tyson would not let it go, so she held her breath and took in the feeling of being enveloped by him so gently, as calmly as she could.

They hadn’t been this close, physically, in a long time.

Hilary remembered the last time they’d stood like this like it had been yesterday, even though a whole year had passed since they had been stuck under the mistletoe at the Christmas party where Max and a few others had insisted that the two wouldn’t be allowed to make an exit if they didn’t fulfil the rule that came with standing under mistletoes. Just like how today he’d dragged her to the floor so suddenly, back then Tyson had pulled her into himself with such abruptness that she hadn’t understood what had happened until his lips had landed on her forehead, pulling back within seconds to crack a joke about her being too short for him to reach any other part on her face without getting on his knees, and disappeared immediately into the crowd. She remembered not talking to him for the rest of the night, maybe even the rest of the week. She had been furious with him for acting without warning her, annoyed with his jab at her height, embarrassed by the thought of being in his arms in front of all their friends, and dazed by the sensation of his lips on her skin.

Hilary knew she was partly to blame too, she always did forgive him without a second thought, most of the time she didn’t even wait for an apology and would speak to him normally the minute she’d start to miss him. Back when they were kids, she used to seethe and avoid him, forcing him to think about what he had done wrong and how he should fix it, but these past few years a day hadn’t gone by when she hadn’t seen or talked to him. Staying angry with each other over arguments became a thing of past, now they’d shout and glare and give each other the silent treatment for a while before returning to normal, the fight and it’s details totally forgotten. The stint over last year’s Christmas had probably been the longest she had gone without speaking to Tyson in years and even that had more to do with her being confused about what she was to him and how he really felt, than her being mad at him.

Of course, amongst all of this Tyson never showed a hint a discomfort.

She was the only one who was constantly battling with a whirlpool of emotions inside of her, while he laughed his way through life, never looking like being around her was any different for him than being around any of his other friends.

That’s what was unfair, Hilary thought to herself, but how was she supposed to explain this to him in the middle of a dance floor, wrapped in his arms, with her heart racing every time she got a whiff of the cologne he very rarely used.

“Unfair because, you make me feel so much, so strongly all the time,” she spoke into his chest, not even certain whether he could hear her or not, “while you get to relax and feel nothing.”

Hilary felt as if the song had slowed down for them after she finished speaking, as if time had slowed around them too.

She knew there had been other people dancing around them, but she couldn’t feel their presence anymore, it was only her and Tyson who were still swaying to that strangely warped tune echoing in her ears. She wanted to lift her head and see what was happening, she wanted to see Tyson’s face and make sure that she hadn’t slipped into some dream world where she had acquired the bravery to suddenly speak her mind to Tyson. And then a faint reverberation reached her ears and she was surprised to recognize it as Tyson’s heart beating faster than it was supposed to.

So it was possible to make him feel too, she thought, lifting her head from his chest to gaze up at him.

Tyson immediately lowered his head to her level and rested his forehead against hers, he did it as soon as she straightened up that it almost gave her goosebumps, she stumbled out of surprise but he held her steady, using it as an excuse to tighten his grip around her waist and pulling her closer, their bodies now completely pressed against one another, the tip of their noses touching gently.

Before Hilary could catch her breath, their eyes met. There was something different about the look in reflected in Tyson’s chocolate orbs, it resembled something that she had only caught glimpses of faintly up till now before he covered it up with something else, something she could read.

“Or maybe, I feel just as much as you do but I’m better at hiding it.”

His voice was below a whisper but she heard him loud and clear, and this time he didn’t rush to hide the emotions in his eyes, instead he displayed it so strongly that it would be impossible for her to miss.

“Oh.”

Was all she could murmur, once the intensity of his gaze and the meaning behind it registered in her mind. Maybe her mother had been right along, maybe she should have asked Tyson all those questions to his face and he would have given her the answer she had been so desperate to arrive at with just one look. The same look that was always reflected in her own eyes every time she gazed up at him, and yet she had failed to recognize it when it had been directed at her.

And she had called him oblivious, when really the only one who had been oblivious all along was her.

“Yeah. Oh.” He smirked.

As he spoke he rubbed his nose lightly against hers and Hilary gritted her teeth together to stop a whimper from escaping her lips as the sensation of his touch sent mini jolts of shock throughout her body.

His smirk grew wider, and it awoke a tinge of annoyance in her.

“Well I’m surprised that you’d feel that way about such a usual girl like me.”

Hilary triumphed as his smirk faltered and he blinked in confusion, trying to put two and two together. Knowing Tyson, she knew they’d be here a while, but she decided she wouldn’t nudge him in the right direction just yet. She hadn’t gotten enough of his arms holding onto her like she was the only thing mattered. There were a few other things she was enjoying, like when she snaked a hand from his neck into his hair, he gulped loudly and she could feel his heart beat faster against her chest. She could even smell the champagne from before off of him, and when her eyes dropped to his lips, she thought if she were to press her own against his, she would be greeted with the taste of the bitter beverage that she usually avoided, but wouldn’t mind tasting it in this way.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

His confused words broke her train of thought and Hilary quickly averted her gaze back to his eyes, narrowing her own at him out of irritation.

“When you came to pick me up today, I asked you how I look,” Hilary began, searching his face for comprehension which didn’t arrive so she continued, exasperatedly, “and you said ‘the usual.’ Not pretty, or beautiful, or wow, the usual. You said the usual.” She repeated his words to him with vigour, just to make sure that he would understand what she was trying to get at. It was excruciating for her to watch Tyson’s face as he gradually recalled the conversation from earlier, finally breaking into a grin, which irritated her even more, enough to want to pull away from his comfortable embrace, but his grip on her was tighter than she had expected and he didn’t seem to want to let go.

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings,” he said, the sincerity in his voice made her stop her efforts from trying to wiggle out of his hold and peer at him curiously instead, his grin was more of a smile as he continued, “I spoke without thinking the sentence through.”

She rolled her eyes.

“What I should’ve explained is that even under usual circumstances, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. That fact doesn’t change for me when you’re dressed up or when you’re not. You’re usually, always so beautiful.”

Hilary felt every inch of her body turn a bright shade of red as his words sunk in.

Tyson took one look at her bewildered expression and lifted his head and threw it back as he laughed more loudly than ever.

“That’s why you didn’t talk to me the entire ride here?” He asked, his eyes shining from laughing so hard.

“Well, yes!” She replied, flustered by the stupidity of her whole dilemma, she immediately buried her head into his chest, lightly punching his shoulder as he continued to shake with laughter. She reminded herself that he was the stupid one, not her, nobody in their right mind gave out compliments like this, “You’re such an idiot, Tyson.”

“An idiot who you wanted to kiss just a few minutes ago.”

So he really didn’t miss a thing.

She lifted her head from his chest and stared directly into his eyes challengingly.

“And? Is the idiot going to kiss me or is my face still out of his reach?”

#beyblade #takao kinomiya #hiromi tachibana #tyhil #beyblade fanfiction #writealot #i know people don't really read tyhil fanfics on here #but still here it is #i loved writing it so you must love reading this

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