#almost a year ago I would've rather done almost anything but today I did it and I didn't even think about it. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ladyvesuvia · 3 years ago

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Moniker Origin

PAIRING: Sirius Black x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

SUMMARY: Befriending a stray dog not only leads to a routine rendezvous every midnight but also the story of how Sirius got one of his many names.

WORDS: 5.5k

WARNING(S): Just fluff but involves cursing, name-calling, nicknames, mentions of celebrities/characters from the 70s, mentions of eating and food. || SECOND PERSON

A/N: can u tell this is kind of an indirect prequel to i’m a dreamer hsjsiw anyway i hope u like it!!! for @meiitanoia my beloved sirius black lovebot <3

[NAVIGATION] [MASTERLIST]

You woke up with a start. The curtains to your four-poster bed danced gently, as if attempting to put you into a trance. It worked: You watched it, transfixed more than ever until you slowly gained proper consciousness, or at least enough to let you yawn.

You reached out to push the curtains a bit to find that it was still night-time. You could hear light snores coming from your roommates, but you ignored it in desperate hopes of falling asleep again. You couldn’t; not that you didn’t want to, because you really did. The reason for your tossing and turning at this late hour was most likely because you slept around six p.m., an unideal hour for sleep on a weekday. You’d passed on dinner, and told yourself you’d just take breakfast early in the morning.

Giving up, you threw out your feet off the bed, feeling the cold surface of the floor. The clock told you it was half past eleven as it kept ticking and ticking and ticking.

Before you knew it, you were trudging down the deserted halls of Hogwarts, half-melted dark chocolate in one hand and your lightened wand in the other. You bought it from Honeydukes just last weekend on your visit to Hogsmeade. You didn’t know where you were going, but you just wanted to be somewhere else, maybe even do something exciting.

For cautionary measures, you looked in every direction every time you reached a turn in fear of getting caught by any roaming person of authority. Peeves would probably make a sound that’ll draw Mr. Filch’s attention; Mrs. Norris could appear, and that in itself is bad news already; Mr. Filch himself could catch you and start throwing insane threats; or maybe someone from the faculty could catch you and put you in detention, and you knew full well you did not want to spend time doing an absurd task.

When you managed to slip out unnoticed, you walked over to the bank of the lake, the rocks crunching under your feet. It was probably one of the things you find in horror movies when all is still, all is sleeping, and the monster is yet to come—

Your pulse skipped a beat when the sight of something running away from the forest shuffled past. You realized it was just a dog, but it gave you a shock nonetheless. Just a dog, you thought. Just a dog.

You pulled out the chocolate from your pocket, unwrapping it carelessly. It wasn’t until you took your first bite did you realize the dog was right behind you, watching you with curious eyes.

“I’d give you some but dogs aren’t allowed to eat chocolate,” you said to the dog, who then whined in response as it sat down. “I really can’t, I’m sorry.”

One might think a big black dog sneaking up on you in the middle of a night would cause a fright, but it was strangely more comforting than eerie. After all, it was just a dog.

Just looking at the creature reminded you of Snuffles, your very own dog who died while you were away from home and sitting in History of Magic, unaware your best bud had passed. You looked down hopefully at the dog in front of you.

“Snuffles?” you inquired hesitantly, reaching out your hand. Please don’t bite, you chanted more to yourself than to the dog. To your relief, it approached you gingerly and let you pet its head. “Is it you?”

Highly unlikely, you knew that, but it wouldn’t hurt to hope that it was, right? You’d spent your entire childhood with that dog: Sleeping together under a poorly done fort until daybreak; getting lost in the neighborhood together, earning disapproving opinions from the neighbors; and most of all, countless birthdays.

Well, just to name a few.

Maybe it was the moonlight reflecting off of the lake’s waters, but you could’ve sworn you saw the dog wink. You took your hand back to rub your eyes before studying the dog. “Are you Hagrid’s?”

The dog simply sat there, looking at you curiously. “Right, like a dog’s gonna talk back to me.” You chuckled, laughing at yourself. “Come, I’ll bring you back to him.”

It didn’t move. “Look, I can’t give you chocolate. Maybe I can sneak you some steak or something next time if you’re still here. I’d give you dog food but they don’t have that around here. But I reckon Hagrid has some, though. Do you want me to get you food?”

Once again, maybe (just maybe) it was only your imagination, but you got the sense that the dog disagreed. You didn’t push it any further and so you simply made yourself comfortable even under the rocks. You set down your cloak under your bottom to serve as a mat. It didn’t do much, but it was better. You gestured for the dog to come closer.

“I’m gonna call you Snuffles now,” you said as you picked up a stone. “Watch this.” With a swing of your arm, you sent the stone flying into the lake, skipping three times. “I used to be able to do four. You’d know, you were there!”

Snuffles your dog from years ago indeed was there with you when it happened on your family trip to your lake house, but this was not Snuffles; this was your very own classmate and Housemate, Sirius Black himself. He’d never talked to you before, much less noticed you, so it was a surprise to him that he’s spending his time with you at this late hour.

Nevertheless, it was a time well-spent even when it was mostly (entirely) just watching you skip rocks down the lake as you talked about the aforementioned Snuffles. He didn’t know how long you two sat there, but sat you did anyway. Twice he thought of a joke to tell only to be disappointed for of course, he couldn’t voice it out.

“I named her Snuffles because she used to cry a lot when we first brought her home from the shelter and mum didn’t want us to call her Sniffles so I went with the next best thing.” You put your legs in front of you. “Poor little thing.”

It wasn’t until the sky brightened a bit did you realize you were thirsty from all the talking you were doing. You would've stayed for the sunrise but, well, schedules would tragically overlap.

“Crap,” you thought as you began picking up your cloak, “I’ll end up dozing off in class! Anyway, I’ll try and bring you steak later, Snuffy.”

With a wave, you ran away from the lake, cloak in your arms, unaware that you had left your wand behind. Sirius was watching you until you disappeared from sight before he spotted the wand, which he then picked up.

He de-transformed on his way just a bit by a wall, and as soon as he did, he tucked your wand into his own cloak. He glanced back just for a second before running back to the castle. By the time he got to the painting of the Fat Lady, he halted at the sight of the girl from earlier — you.

“—you know me already, ma’am. I just forgot the password is all. Please let me in.”

“No password, no entry,” spat the Fat Lady. “And it does not do to wake up a sleeping person.”

“Well, you’re just a painting,” you mumbled. And if Sirius could hear it from where he was standing, the Fat Lady probably heard it too.

“Hmph!” exclaimed the Fat Lady. “Children are foul.”

“They are, aren’t they?” you chimed in hopes of getting on the Fat Lady’s better graces.

“I was talking about you, child,” said the Fat Lady with disdain. “Now scoot!”

You were about to walk away when Sirius decided to walk in. You froze.

It was only until then did it dawn on Sirius that he did not know your name because you had not told him anything earlier. He turned to the Fat Lady.

“Spondulicks,” said Sirius. The Fat Lady merely grunted as the painting swung open to reveal the room. “After you, m’lady.”

It was like he was seeing a different person; you refused to meet his eyes as you hurriedly walked into the opening of the painting, arms crossed. He was almost about to give you your wand but realized what a bad idea that would be, and so he kept his mouth shut.

You kept walking straight ahead, and Sirius had to stifle his laugh at the sight of you missing a step on the stairs to the girls’ dormitory, especially when your pace quickened after this.

That morning at breakfast, you were nowhere to be found. Sirius took his seat next to James while skimming the length of the Gryffindor table.

“What’re you looking for?” asked James, curiously scanning the table as well.

“This girl with [Y/H/C] hair,” Sirius replied absentmindedly as he slowly settled down, still looking for her.

“A girl? You’re gonna have to be more specific, mate. But bagsy snogging her.”

“What — you can’t bagsy her, you haven’t even met her,” spat Sirius. James was rather taken aback but still seemed to be stifling his laugh at the outburst nonetheless. Sirius cleared his throat. “And need I remind you that you’re trying to get Evans?”

“Mhm, I was just trying to see how interested you were in this girl to be preoccupied with looking for her instead of petting your hair.” More and more people began to file in to the common room and Sirius’s attention went to the door after determining you were not seated in one of the tables.

“It’s called combing, and you should try it.” Sirius ran his hand through his hair. “It would do you good to look fresh at least once.”

James snickered. “What can I tell you, Pads? The ladies like the rugged look.”

“I don’t think they do,” remarked Remus.

“Oh trust me, Remus,” James started with a smug grin. “They do. The key to it is—”

But Sirius never found out what ‘the key to it’ was; at least, not today. After a group of younger Ravenclaws walked in, he finally spotted you right behind them and his back straightened even more. For what, he did not know.

You took your seat beside a couple more Gryffindors and helped yourself to food on your own plate. You were busy rubbing her eyes, giving Sirius more time to watch. When you finished, you caught him looking at you, but he didn’t break the eye contact; instead, he smiled.

“Oh, her?” exclaimed James, trying to get a better look. Sirius gently kicked his foot at how obvious he was, but he nodded in confirmation. James blew a raspberry. “I can’t bagsy, can I?”

Sirius scowled. “No.”

“Then I call dibs.”

“Wha — that’s the same thing! You can’t just call dibs.” Sirius cleared his throat once more, for James was raising a brow to signify he’d proved his point. “You can’t.”

“Wouldn’t hurt you to go on over and talk to her, would it? After all, you do it all the time.” James stretched out his arms and made gestures of triumph. “Hook, sink, liner.”

“It’s actually ‘Hook, line, and sinker,’” said Remus.

“No it’s not. Get a load of this guy,” James joked (or not). “Anyway, come on, I’ll come with you. But I apologize in advance if my hair works better than yours.”

When they made it over to where you were sitting, you appeared to be manually wiping your plate with a tissue.

“Excuse me,” started Sirius, gesturing at the plate, “May I?”

Hesitantly and still not meeting his gaze, you handed him the plate. Sirius pulled out his wand and with a small flick, he said, “Tergeo!”

When he handed it back, you simply nodded your head in thanks and began to stuff it in your bag.

“Wait, are you stealing a plate?” James asked with a grin, on the verge of laughing. “You wouldn’t want to do that. See, our friend’s a Prefect and he’ll totally tell Professor Meownerva — pun courtesy of Peter, by the way.” James snickered. “I wish I’d thought of it first be—Ow!”

Sirius had stepped on James foot. “I’ll take it from here, Bambi.”

James managed a scowl before leaving the scene. You didn’t know what to do; so in your mind, you started devising ways to get yourself out of that situation: Make a run for it or melt on the spot; neither seemed like a good option.

“Why are you stealing a plate?” he asked.

“Er — long story. Have a good day.” Then you stood up and began to walk away, backing up a bit to grab a piece of sandwich before completely storming off.

When Sirius returned the other three were there, laughing out loud together.

James leaned closer. “Her name’s [Y/N].”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” exclaimed Sirius, annoyed.

“Hook, sink, liner,” said James confidently.

Remus cleared his throat again. “Again, it’s ‘Hook, line, and’—”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” dismissed James.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

On your first class (Transfiguration), the two of you clearly could not at all suppress your yawns: Sirius was doing fairly better compared to you, for he had the decency to not let his head plop face down on his desk, but he was sleepy nonetheless. This was no surprise to Sirius. After all, he hadn’t slept that morning. As for you, he did not know whether or not you slept but according to your peaceful and sleeping face, he kind of had a clue.

He wasn’t listening, and so when everyone brought out their wands, he just cluelessly followed the others. Professor McGonagall approached the middle row and stopped just right next to you.

“Miss [Y/L/N]?” started McGonagall. “If I’m not mistaken, bedtime ended hours ago.”

You merely grunted. McGonagall cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Miss [Y/L/N]?”

The professor put the back of her palm against your forehead. She lifted your face off the table and her eyes widened. “Heavens! Child, you look positively ghastly. Remus, kindly take—”

“I’ll do it,” said Sirius. “I’m her. . .” As he trailed off, all eyes went back and forth from you, McGonagall, and him. He opened his mouth again to add, “friend. We’re friends.”

Although McGonagall appeared to be reluctant, she let you go, advising you to visit Madam Pomfrey. Sirius risked a smug look in James’s way before following you out the door, eager to speak with you.

“So you’re feeling unwell?” asked Sirius.

“Look, buddy, I appreciate it but I honestly just want to go to bed.”

“Didn’t Minnie McG tell you to visit Madam Pomfrey?”

You halted. “I’m not sick.”

“What do you mean? What about the drowsy eyes and the head hurting and the red nose—?”

“Okay, now you’re making my head hurt.” You faced him, hands on your hips in defiance. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, Black: I’ll go back to my room and you’ll take a walk to the Hospital Wing and back to class.”

“But you’re sick.”

“Buddy, I’m really not,” you said with an irritated laugh. “I haven’t slept yet and I lost my wand. How do you think I’ll be able to go to class without a damn wand?”

Sirius scoffed. “Then what about your runny red nose and teary eyes?”

“Really? Are purebloods really that dense not to come up with basic ways to get out of class?” It was almost ironic. After all, you’d heard tons of brilliant things pureblooded wizards could do. Clearly they weren’t as crafty. You snorted. “Do you really want to know?”

“Do I? Of course I do.”

And with a bit of consideration, you recounted your gimmicks: collecting two chili peppers from the table and lightly patting your finger under your eyes to make it teary (it badly hurt), pinching your nose as soon as you left the Great Hall and sprinkling a bit of pepper on your sleeve to get yourself to sneeze, taking a quick hot shower without getting your hair wet, and more.

“Wow,” he exclaimed under his breath, astonished. You shrugged in response, turning around to walk away. “Wait, then why did you agree for me to take you instead of Remus?”

“Eh, well, your friend who’s trying so hard to be Michael Landon said that the Remus guy was a Prefect so I figured that he’s probably a snitch.”

“Trust me, he’s not a snitch,” Sirius said with a laugh. “Wait, I don’t even know who Michael Landon is but could you say that thing again but to James’s face tomorrow morning at breakfast?”

“No.” You turned your back on him, walking away. “May we never talk again.”

“You’re welcome, by the way!” He watched as you made a turn, disappearing from view before making a face. “Ungrateful chick.”

That entire day, you spent your time in bed, tossing and turning to keep yourself awake. Whenever someone came in during vacant time, you made sure the curtains to your four-poster bed were sealed shut while pretending to sniffle.

It was Friday, so you were thankful for the time to rest. You were thinking of just looking for your wand tomorrow when you remembered the dog. You shifted in your bed as you slowly stood up, peeking through the curtains of your bed. Your roommates were probably still in the common room, so you peeked your head out to grab your bag from beside your bed and pulled it in before shutting the curtains close.

You pulled out the plate you got from earlier that morning and waited.

Waited for your roommates to come in and chat for a while.

Waited until the lights went out.

Waited until the only sound you could hear was the ticking of the clock in the room.

You were about to fall asleep when what you could only assume was a bird hit itself against the window, jolting you awake.

It was dead silent. And just like you did hours ago, you threw your feet out of your bed. Going out at this hour without a wand felt threatening, but you reassured yourself, just thinking over and over that it would be just like old times back when you didn’t know you were a witch.

There was no one in the common room by the time you got down there. You tightened your grip on the plate in your hands, thinking about how good a weapon it would make (it probably wasn’t, but it was good enough to make you feel like you had a chance).

You slipped out, unaware once more of the same boy you had talked to the night before following you.

The walk down the halls and stairs without a light made your tour all the more frightening: Jumping when you accidentally graze your hand too much on one of the paintings which often earned an angry grunt from them, feeling for the next step of the stairs in fear of tripping over, and so on.

Sirius resisted the urge to just approach you and give you your wand, resorting to just staying behind to make sure you got out safely. He was about to keep going straight ahead when you made a turn, confusing him.

It took a few more turns for him to realize you were headed for the kitchens. He had to wait outside until you came back out a short while later with something in the plate.

Laughing silently to himself, he followed you again to the grounds, your wand in his cloak pocket, feeling like a hundred pounds weighing him down.

You went back to where you were last night, scouring the rocks in hopes of spotting a distinct shape among the round shapes. You cursed under your breath in disappointment as you set the plate of steak aside, your eyes falling to the dark surface of the lake. Gulping, you tied up the pant legs of your pajamas, mumbling inaudible words to yourself at what you were about to do.

Only your feet were in the water when you heard a loud bark, causing you to jump a bit, toppling backward at the sight of the black dog. You felt the water soak your back and a bit of your head.

“Snuffles?” you asked the dog whilst shaking yourself dry as you stood up. “There’s steak over there. It’s for you.”

If it weren’t for his physical state, Sirius would be laughing right now. The least he could do was walk your way, sitting right beside the plate of the steak.

“I know it’s not as good as I promised but it’s the best I could give, I’m sorry,” you said to the dog as it looked at you curiously. You bent down to pick up your cloak, drying yourself and wrapping it around you. With a huff, you squeezed the water out of your hair and sat down on the rocks once again. “I only came down here to look for my wand. It probably rolled down to the bottom of the lake already.”

You yawned. The lack of sleep was already taking a toll on you and you couldn’t let the sun rise before you could lie down in bed.

“Do you not like the steak?” you asked again. “You know, I got that plate for you.”

The dog’s ears perked up, and you reached out to pet it.

“Thank Merlin I got away from that fruitcake.”

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

“I’m a fruitcake,” Sirius told his friends that morning as they fell in line for their Hogsmeade trip. James looked at his friend as if he had gone mad (well, one can say he’s halfway there). “Out of all the things I could be, I’m a fruitcake.”

“Took you long enough to figure that out,” said Peter, who then brightened when James burst into a laugh.

“You sure?” said Remus, adjusting his tie. “If you are, then you’re far too salty to be one.”

“Guys, I’m ser—” He cut himself off, aware that they were waiting for an opening to pick fun at his name. “I am not joking.”

“Because you’re. . .?” James said, encouraging him.

Sirius let out an exasperated sigh. “Serious.”

And just like that, the entire group howled in laughter. Rolling his eyes, Sirius scanned the crowd again, but it was the same thing as yesterday — you were once again nowhere to be found.

“Wait, where did you get this fruitcake comment from?” asked Remus.

Sirius recounted your past encounters with him, earning a whoop of cheer and a pat from James.

“I have a plan,” said Sirius. “I’ll just so happen to ‘run into’ her in Hogsmeade and she’ll think I’m charming because I did my hair better today.”

“I don't know, I reckon it’ll be hard to jump from fruitcake puppy to charming knight and shining armor,” said Remus.

It wasn't until they were near the front of the line did Sirius realize there was still no sign of you. He then stepped out of the line, earning sudden protests from the rest of the group.

He made a show of waving at the other three as he disappeared from view before darting down the halls and up the stairs until he made it to the common room, where he plopped down on the couch. A couple of first and second years were gathered by the window playing chess.

Sirius kept his head down as he waited for you to come out until finally, about almost ten minutes later, heavy steps came from the girls’ dormitory as it descended down the stairs. Sirius kept his face down so as to hide himself for you, cursing at himself for being too. . .what’s a nicer way to put creepy again?

He followed you again like the night before, going over the things he wanted to say.

Hello, I’m actually Snuffles.

I’m Snuffles.

Hi, I’m not really a reincarnation of your dog because I’m actually a fruitcake!

It just kept getting worse in his head the more that he dwelled on it, and so he resorted to just focusing on his step when you halted, causing him to run into you.

“You,” you started, stopping with your finger pointed right at him, daring him to speak, “why are you following me?”

“Because. . .” Sirius trailed off. Why was he following you?

Because I'm Snuffles and I have your wand. Because I can turn into a dog. Because while I am Snuffles, I'm also not really Snuffles. Because—

“Because I found your wand,” he blurted out. “Well, consider it as a token of appreciation.”

“For what?”

“For being a good friend. . . ?”

“As far as I know, the first and only time we ever even talked was just yesterday,” you said, gesturing with your hands. “What’s your deal?”

“I want to take a walk,” Sirius relaxed, grinning at you.

“Then do it yourself!” you exclaimed.

“With you, I mean.”

Sirius’s tone calmed you down at least a bit, and so you cleared your throat. Come to think of it, he’s probably not that bad.

You began to walk with him on your way out to the grounds. “And what do I get out of this walking thing of yours?”

Sirius waved his hand with a flourish as we jogged ahead to stop right in front of you, tipping an imaginary hat. “Bragging rights, madam.”

You halted. “You’re gonna have to try better than that, Vinnie Barbarino.”

“Er — that’s good, right?” he asked, tensing up again as he composed himself.

“Depends on how you look at it.”

“Well, does he have nice hair?”

“Again, depends on how you look at it.”

“I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“You and me both, Vinnie,” you told him with a huff as you two set foot outside.

“It’s certainly better than fruitcake,” he muttered under his breath. You leaned in closer, your brow raised in question. He shook his head and told you it was nothing.

By the time you made it to the bank of the lake, you found yourself unconsciously searching the rocks for your wand.

Sirius snorted. “You can keep looking but it’s not there.”

“Wasn’t trying to.”

He watched as you bent down to pick up a rock and moved closer to the lake. Just like you did a few nights ago, you swung your arm to skip a rock. It was kind of like a movie for him; the way your shoulders sunk a bit after getting only three skips. “I used to be able to do four.”

I’d know, Sirius thought as he grinned at the irony. I was there. Maybe I really am Snuffles.

“So, when are you going to give me my wand?” You turned around to face him again, dusting your hands as you did so.

Sirius wanted to tell you about his alter-ego badly. But at the same time, it was right there and then Sirius realized something. He normally hated the idea of a routine; loathed it, even. But he figured that maybe, just this once, he could make an exception. He didn’t mind going out every single night as Padfoot or Snuffles if it meant the world to you to have something to look forward to. In fact, the line was starting to blur between all his names: Sirius Black, Onion, Padfoot, Snuffles, Fruitcake.

Sirius cleared his throat and told you, “Monday morning when you have breakfast with me.”

“I’m not gonna have breakfast with you.”

“You are now because you’ll get a coupon.”

“What coupon?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Bragging rights for spending time with me — Sirius Orion Black.”

“You’re awfully presumptuous.”

“Why are you so mean?” Sirius feigned pain by clutching his chest, making a show.

You bit your cheek in attempt not to laugh. “Look, just give me back my wand.”

“Give me your word that you’ll have breakfast with me first.”

“Fine,” you told him. “Now will you give me my wand back?”

Sirius let out a long sigh before taking a step forward and bending down to pick up a rock. He swung his arm backward as he made a shot.

One, two, three, four.

He faced you. “Hook, sink, liner.”

“It’s ‘hook, line, and sinker,’ how could you mess that up?”

“Damn it, James,” he cursed under his breath. “Anyway, here’s your wand.”

This definitely took you by surprise, especially when he pulled it out of his coat pocket and handed it to you with only a friendly smile and without any hesitation.

You grabbed it as fast as you could just in case he changed his mind at the last minute.

Sirius fought the urge to pick fun at the fact that this was close to what one may call fetch.

Wow, he thought. Merlin, I’m literally Snuffles. Sirius could hear his friends’ jeers light years away: Playing fetch with her, Snuffy? Will you also let her walk you? Oh, wait, you already did!

“Thank you,” you told him. “I was literally prepared to dive down there just to get my wand. I know what a big hassle it is to get it replaced and everything.”

“I know,” he said, pertaining to how he knew the lengths you were ready to go to just so you could find your wand, but you took what he said an answer to what you said last.

Sirius began walking again, and you followed. “Why didn’t you go to Hogsmeade with the others?”

“Eh, I’ve been there a lot of times. We’ll go there next time. I’ll take you to—”

You halted. “Woah, woah, who said I’ll be coming with you?”

“Time,” Sirius protested. “It tells you things even you wouldn’t be able to know.”

You scoffed as you kept walking alongside him. “Eh, well, we got Professor Trelawney for that. What do you say we visit her classroom and play with balls? I mean, orbs. No, stop laughing.”

But he didn’t stop. And honestly, neither did you; not even when you completed a turn around the grounds.

That night was a brilliant one: You were headed back downstairs, this time keeping your wand tight in your hand as you did so.

Just like as far as always can go, Snuffles sat by the lake, looking at the ripples that danced along its surface. Why did the dog suddenly look familiar?

You stood right next to Snuffles, who was now looking up at you curiously.

“I can’t stay for long,” you told the dog. “I have to sleep early, you know. I mean, you don’t, but — whatever.”

You bent down to pick up a rock again, watching it skip three times. You cursed under your breath, “How’d he do it?”

Snuffles, originally Sirius himself, snorted. You turned to the dog and shook your head, telling yourself it was your want of sleep playing tricks on you.

“Fruitcake’s actually not that bad,” you started as you picked up another rock. Sirius looked up again. “I think I’ll give him a chance.”

When you finally gave up on skipping rocks, you sat down right next to the dog. “He kinda left a ring of his, see?” You showed the dog Sirius’s ring. The dog blinked. “I’m not planning on keeping it, I’ll give it back to him on a good day.”

A bird flew by, causing you to jump a bit. “Yep, I’m gonna need to sleep this out. Go to Hagrid’s will you? Actually, no, come with me.”

You lead the dog to Hagrid’s hut and told it to stay there. Sirius thought it was funny seeing you boss him around in a gentler manner.

With a wave, you ran back to the doors and dashed up the stairs until you reached the dormitories, where you hastily got in your bed and tucked yourself in.

When breakfast came and you casually sat down right across from Sirius and beside James, a thought came to Sirius’s head again: He wanted you to know him as Sirius Black, no disguises involved. Sure, maybe he’d learn more of you if he continued doing it but . . . he wanted you to learn more of himself, too.

As for telling you his secret identity (not Batman), he decided that it’d be best to let his future self deal with it and just enjoy breakfast with you, which is hopefully just the first of many.

One last thing, though: Snuffles grew on Sirius. Safe to say that he got attached; so much that even when time told new people new fates, he found a way to let the name stay by using it as a safe codename as an attempt to become a lovable stray in the time of danger.

But that doesn’t matter just yet, not when the group was busy having one of the most brilliant Mondays to date.

Taglist: @gingerale2017 @sfdlm @maybanksslut @hey-there-angels @elevatorsdoor @mrzweasley @gwlvr @1-800-itsfreerealestate @marrymetheonott @booksarealwaysbettersworlds-blog @sexysirius @turn-to-page-394-please @greenlyblue @henqtic @badass-yn @meiitanoia @gaycatlord-stuff @just2bubbly @awakendevildays @dracomalfoyposts @crazy-beautiful @adoreyou976 @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

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i-dont-want-your-hysteria · 3 years ago

Text

Up In the Air (Joe x Reader)

(surprise gift for you guys on Joe's birthday ^_^ I started this almost exactly a year ago, and it's finally done! Someone pointed out that I slightly hinted at the plot of this in my last fic post... you caught me.)

Words: 4,028

Prompt: Spring, 1983. Joe has an opportunity in his sights, but as luck would have it, it does not go his way (or does it...?)

-----

(1983)

"God, it was so embarrassing!" Joe put his palms over his eyes as he whined to Sav. The singer was flat on his back in the middle of their bed, and Sav's back was against the wall opposite him. The bassist had his arms crossed in exasperation.

They were back in a fresh, new hotel room after another flight to another city. They'd been settled in for a while, and- as far as you knew- Joe was physically well. Emotionally, however...

"What are the odds that things were placed so perfectly for me today, and then-?!" he swatted the air above him, "That happens? 'Just my luck!"

Sav didn't consider it as dire of a situation as Joe did. In fact, he seemed rather entertained than sympathetic.

"That was out of your control, mate."

"I know it was, but-" he sat up, "Y/n was right there! How was I supposed to keep it together?!"

"If it were anyone else other than her, you still would've had to keep it together, you know," Sav tilted his head down, but had his eyes looking up.

"Well, you're no help," Joe grumbled, crossing his arms back at the bassist and flopping back down onto the mattress.

"There's nothing to help you with!" Sav took a seat at the foot of the bed, "It's not my fault you got-"

Joe sat up again in a snap, warning with a pointed finger, "Don't say it."

"I was just gonna say that I had nothing to do with you being-"

"Don't say it!" Joe pleaded again.

"Joe, it's not that big of a deal that you-"

"Sav!"

"Alright, fine!" Sav threw up both hands, shaking his head and narrowly fighting off a laugh, "I won't say it!"

A loud sigh came from Joe, his head hanging now. The heat of embarrassment refused to leave his face.

"...do you think she's still hung up on it, too?" his voice went quiet, and his tone adopted a sad air.

Sav raised his hand, rubbed his fingers together, and patted Joe's ankle reassuringly.

"It's hard to say no," he admitted, "I know I wouldn't have liked to be in either of your shoes today."

~(5 hours earlier)~

A hand took a grip on your right forearm without warning. It snapped you from the hypnotic, musical trance you'd been in for most of the flight. Having been placed next to the singer for the first time on an airplane, you knew it was his action without a doubt. You looked down and sure enough, Joe's hand was there- holding onto you just a bit too tightly.

Your free hand took off your headphones and you asked him, "Everything alright?"

The singer wasn't focused on you, or anything, it seemed. "Unfocused" was probably the best word you could think of to describe him. His head was slightly tilted downwards, but his eyes were fixed on the back of the chair in front of him. Despite that, it appeared as if he couldn't see it no matter how hard he tried.

You gathered this impression from a split second of looking at him, but as soon as he heard your question, Joe's hold on you was instantly released. His own trance was snapped as well.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. I thought you were the armrest..."

"You were holding on pretty tight," you pointed out, "Something wrong?"

That same look on his face was back again; unfocused. His hand slowly found its way back to the armrest- now that he knew it wasn't your arm. You saw his hand shaking before he gripped it tightly.

"You don't look so good," you noted, adopting a frown.

He hesitated slightly before going very quiet, his face suddenly appearing pallid.

"Fuck..." Joe cursed himself, "I fucked up, I fucked up..."

You pressed again, "Joe... tell me what's wrong..."

He lied to you in a halting voice when a new blush seemed to form on his face, "Um... it's nothing much. There's just- something I haven't told you, and I should've mentioned it before we got on board. But I..."

He fell quiet.

"Yeah...?" you urged him to go on.

"I get... seasick- airsick... sometimes. Not every time, but... every now and then I do- and..."

He visibly swallowed, his breath trembling when he slowly shut his eyes.

Your eyebrows went up, alarmed, "And you're not feeling so good?"

"No, no, no...!" his inner voice screamed.

"Not really, but I'm fine, don't worry about me. It just happens."

His efforts to shrink the overall worry didn't work, as you instantly knew that if things went south, you were the only nearby acquaintance of his who could help him. You were also trapped with him for 2 more hours until you landed, so you would've had to help him if need be.

"Oh god- are you gonna be sick?" your hand raised up slightly to reach for a sick bag.

"No! No, I'm more dizzy than anything..."

"Well, take this-" you handed him a sick bag, "-and just try not to focus on your surroundings. And if you can't hold it down... well just keep it in the bag and away from me, okay?"

"...okay," he exhaled and took it from you, desperately hoping it wouldn't come to that. For fuck's sake, he was already embarrassed enough. He felt like a child. Even worse; he felt like your child.

Joe shut his eyes again and rested his head back on his seat. His whole body looked drained of energy, and you saw sweat forming on his forehead. It was obvious to you he was trying to make himself appear more okay than he was.

"I can do this," Joe nearly said aloud, "I can get through this without her knowing."

Unfortunately, for him, you already knew.

"The poor guy," you were thinking with sympathy, "Never knew he could look so ill."

You asked, "You've been feeling bad for a while, haven't you?"

"...what?" he squinted under his eyelids, lying to you again, "No, not really. Why, can you tell?"

"I don't wanna sound rude... but yeah, you kind of look like hell."

Joe quietly whined at your declaration.

"I know that look, Elliott- I've been in this position before."

The man next to you was intrigued by what you implied. He was suddenly beginning to think that maybe his situation wasn't as embarrassing as it appeared.

His eyes opened, "Wait, have you ever-?"

"Oh- no, I never get sick on planes, but you're not the first case I've ever seen."

"Great. This means she's stronger than me."

You held up your bottle, "You want some water? Maybe settle your stomach a little?"

Joe felt his stomach turn at the mention of liquid and shook his head, "No, I'll be fine..."

It was another lie, but you decided maybe it was best you just let him be. Perhaps he wasn't that bad.

Joe, on the other hand, was fighting the sickness with all the strength he could muster- hoping you wouldn't see it.

"Don't mess this up," he was telling himself, "She's right there. Keep it together and don't balls it up...!"

Going with your plan, you let him be, and put your headphones back on.

He took a deep breath, "Fuck, if only the seatbelt lock wasn't on... then at least I could hide in the bathroom..."

The Leppard waited in terrified silence for his ailment to subside. With the current turbulence, it was impossible. Every shudder and bump made him want to heave until there was nothing left in his stomach. Worst of all, there was no where he could run to; he was trapped.

Oddly enough, before the sickness hit him, he was actually excited to be trapped there.

It was no secret among the band members that Joe quickly developed a crush on you. What started out as a feeling of preferring you over anyone else in the crew soon turned into a reach for romance. There was no time for him to make a move in the midst of the tour, though, which left him to suffer in his teenage desire alone.

When he heard he would be seated next to you on the next flight, he instantly knew it was an opportunity he couldn't afford to waste. This was the first time he'd sat directly by you on a plane, after all. It was a brilliant time to make a move and bond together. He'd been nervous ever since he sat down, but he never got the chance to make a flirt or decent conversation before his body betrayed him. Yes, it was an optimistic opportunity, but now Joe wished it'd been anywhere except up in the air.

The stress of the situation only made him feel worse- but he wouldn't accept the fact that he was about to lose this divine opening.

Not 4 minutes of your music went by when the plane shook yet again. When it did, you thought you saw Joe suddenly move from the corner of your eye. When your head turned, you saw his fist pressed against his mouth, an arm around his stomach, and a green tint over his pallid face.

"Woah, you alright?" you took your headphones off again.

Joe only nodded, closing his eyes to reassure you (but also to reprimand himself under the surface).

"No, no no!! Stop being sick for fuck's sake! You won't have a chance with her!!"

"I'm good, I'm good," he swallowed again, wiping sweat off his bangs, "Go back to your music."

"Don't lie to me, Joe. You look terrible-! Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"I'm really not that bad, Y/n. Just a little... motion sickness..." his breathing became labored, and he angled his body as far to his right as he could. He began to fidget with something as he swallowed, "Ohh..."

The cabin teetering around him somehow made things even worse.

"Honey, I don't think it's just a little," your concern was peaked, and a hand was hovering over his arm, "You look like you're about to throw up or pass out, so how about we get you some club soda and you can rest, okay? If you want to, you can even-"

Joe was turned completely away from you, and had suddenly lurched forward to vomit into the sick bag you'd given him earlier. You knew that any hope of him holding back his condition was impossible now.

You'd initially flinched at his retching; cringing and holding your breath. Only a second passed until you remembered your duty; you were the only friend nearby.

"Uh oh-" sympathetically, you sighed and reached out to him, your hands holding his hair back, "That's not good..."

***

"I feel so humiliated... I was just- so deathly sick! I threw up twice, Sav- twice! And she was right next to me! I feel awful that she had to put up with it...! I feel like that's on me. She probably thinks I'm disgusting; she probably sees me as this huge fucking pansy who can't keep his lunch down while flying..."

"Mate, getting sick on flights isn't a personality trait, and I'm pretty sure Y/N knows that, too."

Joe, who was laying down again, scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"...I think this situation isn't all that bad, really," Sav shrugged, his voice going up in pitch to take on a suggestive tone.

"What on earth makes you say that?"

"It's quite obvious! I just think you were-" he adopted Joe's voice and air quotes, "-'so deathly sick' that you didn't even realize exactly what was happening...!"

"Really? How so?"

"Oh, don't even get me started, Joe."

*** Joe was laying against you now, exhausted from the physical labor forced on his stomach and throat. He was still pale and shivering, but finally willing to accept your advice and remedies. You'd ordered him some club soda (and some mints from your purse), and suggested he take a rest.

This left you where you were now. He had a hand on his stomach, and another one under your hand to calm him.

To say the least, it felt like having a nice, heavy blanket partially draped on you. You couldn't help but think it was at least a little funny. To most people, they'd be absolutely repulsed by a man with a weak stomach sleeping on them during a flight. You couldn't blame them, as Joe could still hurl at any given moment. However, the instinct to care for him overpowered any repulsion you may have had. To you, Joe was like a sick puppy, and you were the one who found him first. You knew he needed you in that moment, and you were okay with it. It was a nice feeling, to say the least.

Joe moved his head against you in his weary and mostly-asleep state of consciousness. A soft grumble vibrated from his sore throat.

Amid those circumstances that would normally gross you out, you managed to smile at him. That, and you gently squeezed his hand to reassure him that he was safe.

That pale, clammy version of the singer you were trapped with wasn't the form of himself he put on display to just anyone. This was a whole new side of him that you knew he never intended you to see; he was helpless. Joe had given in and finally let himself be helpless around you. You found it was rather sweet, and even somehow softening your heart.

It almost felt like a strange honor that not many people had the privilege of possessing, given that Joe tried so hard to hide it from you.

Him desperately vying to avoid your concern was typical for any one of the guys. Naturally, none of them wanted to appear vulnerable around you, but Joe seemed so hell-bent on keeping up his charade of feeling fine. You wondered what reasons he had for his strict act. Perhaps it was the intimate public setting that drove him to conceal his motion sickness at all costs. Maybe it was in order to save himself from certain embarrassment; you really didn't know.

Whatever reason he had, it didn't dwell in your mind for long. All you knew was that even with a half-dead, cold-sweated Joe on your shoulder, your heart was fluttering in a way that was even more inexplicable than his behavior.

*** "First of all," Sav held up a sassy finger at Joe, "She was the one who suggested she hold your hand, plus she held your hair back, plus she let you sleep on her shoulder and tried to make you feel better. Sounds rather tender, if you ask me. Tenderly intimate."

"I'll tell you what was 'intimate'-" Joe's grumpiness was still prominent, "-her watchin' me regurgitate my fuckin guts from 10 inches away!"

"But those were all girlfriend duties!" Sav bounced in his seat, trying to get the point across.

Joe finally fell silent. He sat up, and Sav could see the blush in his cheeks.

"...girlfriend duties?" he nearly whispered to the bassist.

"I'm right and you know it. Tell me those weren't girlfriend-ly actions! She got affectionate with you!"

Joe let his sight fall, then rise back up after a brief moment of pondering.

"She did, didn't she..."

"She definitely did."

Sav was smirking at him now.

Joe asked him again, "You really think she did...?"

"There's not a doubt in my mind."

"Oh-" Joe made a swatting motion and shook his head. He looked diagonally down at the floor, "She probably would've been affectionate to any one of us in that situation..."

Sav laughed out loud at his friend's comment. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was back at home, gossiping in Joe's childhood bedroom during a sleepover.

"Mate, when I had food poisoning last month, she didn't wanna get near me! But today, she was touchin' you and strokin' you and whatnot! Now that I mention it, I saw her smile while you were sleeping and holding her hand! Believe me, she wanted to help you. It was like she had an excuse to get close to you, just like you saw the flight as an excuse to get close to her."

Resting his case, Sav crossed his arms, tongue in his cheek.

They both remained quiet while Joe sat in thought. The pieces slowly began to fit together in his head, forming a train of thought he could somewhat follow.

"Suppose you are right; what do you suppose I do about it now?"

Sav could tell his argument was a success. His work there was done.

"That's entirely up to you."

*** You hadn't been awake that long, and were still pretty groggy when dawn began to break the next day. The unfortunate sensation of jet lag was beginning to catch up with you at that time, too. It didn't matter, because it was all part of the business. Your day would begin soon enough, jet lag or not.

After rubbing your eyes and throwing on your robe, you drew back the curtains and peered out at the misty morning. Thinking the hypnotic trance might wake you up more, you began to stare. Just as quickly, your eyes began to flutter shut again. Right before they did, however, there came a gentle knock at your door.

Blinking yourself back awake, you brought yourself to answer the call.

Initially, you found no one outside your room via the door's peephole. However, when you opened the door to search for anyone nearby, there came an unexpected surprise.

Rather than a person standing before you, a colorful bouquet of flowers lay on your doorstep. Of course, it was strange, but it also left you quickly growing bashful. You just hoped it wasn't one of your guy friends playing an early morning joke on you. Even so, your mind would be too cloudy to process that.

Looking around with sleepy confusion and flattery, you crouched down and picked up the bright bundle. You shuffled your fingers through the top of the arrangement to try and find a label or card that would give away the sender's identity. Eventually, you found the exact clue you were looking for; in the form of a small note.

The fresh, awakening scent of the blossoms wafted around you as you made out the handwriting.

"I'm so sorry I almost threw up on you on the plane! 🙁 -Joe"

It couldn't have been any more straightforward if it'd been put up on a neon sign. You chuckled out loud in the empty hallway and peered around to find a trace of the man in question.

Instantly, you found his eyes peeking from around the corner a few yards away. A guilty smile on his lips made him look so shy- in contrast to his average demeanor.

"This was really unnecessary, you know," the bundle was waved teasingly at him.

"I felt it was necessary," Joe's body slowly appeared more from behind the corner, "Considering you had no choice but to put up with disgusting ol' me."

Leaning on your door's frame, your eyes followed him while he strolled forward and leaned his shoulder on the wall in front of you. You both wore humorous smiles aimed at each other. If you could think any more clearly, you'd recognize this as flirting. Maybe it was- but it seemed oddly natural in that moment.

"Despite what you may think," your eyebrows lifted as you raised the bouquet up to your chin, "You weren't as gross as you expect. That, and you weren't any trouble."

"I just feel icky about the whole thing," he scrunched up his face and shrugged in disgust, "I promise it won't happen again- if I'm seated next to you."

"Don't worry about it, Joe. You just had a bad flight; everyone's got them from time to time."

"Not you, apparently."

Joe's smile turned rather bashful when he diverted his eye contact elsewhere. He silently chuckled with a hint of embarrassment. When you'd reassured him, he all of a sudden realized what Sav was trying to make him see. There was something in your eyes and your smile and your voice that just spoke to Joe; something that hit him and made him realize you wanted to be in the position you were in the day before.

You wanted to be affectionate with him.

Out of his daze, Joe spoke up after a brief hesitation, "So- um, I know it's early... but it's the perfect time for breakfast, so would you wanna go downstairs and get something to eat?"

"You mean with disgusting ol' you?"

"Don't worry-" his face almost went red at the cheeks, and his dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth, "You don't have to think about me keeping it down this time."

Your arm holding the flowers dropped down to your side as you broke up into giggles.

"I'm not worried- in fact, I'd love to go."

You couldn't be certain, but you swore you saw Joe's face actually go red that time.

"Cool! Cool. Did you wanna get dressed or-?"

"Well, you don't seem to be dressed either, so why should I?" you reached back into your room to place the bouquet inside. When you shut the door, you joined the singer, "Let's hit it before Mike and Mal take all the good pastries."

Joe showed his teeth in his grin when you came to his side and began walking.

"If they're all taken, I'll steal one for you- considering I owe you a favor after what you did for me yesterday."

"What did I do?"

The answer was simple, but Joe didn't know how to say it without implying his feelings for you.

"You nursed me back to heath- or at least tried to..."

"I told you not to worry about it..."

"Alright, alright, I'll try not to."

"I'll tell you something, Elliott," you giggled as you both got inside the lift, "You've got a strange way of flirting."

Heat rushed to Joe's cheeks, and more threatened to join them at the thought of you noticing.

"Oh yeah?" he laughed.

"You hope I won't notice every tiny effort, yet you keep doing tiny things to make me notice. Even if we're, for example- up in the air..."

"Oh, god..." just like that, Joe thought he'd be the first person on earth to die of embarrassment. He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Fuck- please don't tell me I was that obvious..."

"Calm down, don't make yourself sick again," you laughed and patted his back, "If it makes you feel any better... I did notice what you were trying to do on the flight. And- um... it worked. So..."

You stood on your toes, and lightly planted a kiss on his cheek, "Let's just say- you don't have to be sick if you want to hold my hand next time."

Joe's hand lowered from his face, and he quickly flashed a bashful glance at you before darting his eyes away.

The elevator doors opened, the smell of coffee seeping everywhere. Instead of walking out, Joe reached out to you.

"You said I didn't have to be sick next time, and I'm quite well now..."

A bashful smile of your own made an appearance as you took his hand like you did the previous day. When you did, Joe giggled to himself.

You glanced over, "What?"

With a pause, Joe rolled in his lips, then looked right at you, "Oh nothing. Just- if you get sick on the next flight, I guess we'll be even, then."

"So, you're gonna sit with me on the next flight, then?" you raised an eyebrow.

"If it means getting even with you, then yes."

"And if it doesn't mean getting even with me?"

"Well," Joe said, smiling widely, "Then the answer is still yes."

That answer was more than enough for you.

Strolling out together, hand-in-hand, you and Joe made your way towards the breakfast counter. In the corner of your vision, you noticed him snagging a pastry off of Mike and Mal's table when he passed by.

The end

#this took me exactly 359 days to 100% complete g__g #another very rare occurrence where a fic isn't based off a song or has the title stolen from a song #unfortunately the next fic is going to break that streak hah :3D #def leppard #joe elliott #def leppard fanfiction #joe elliott x reader #def leppard x reader #original content #rick savage #sav is a perfect mediator I'm sorry I have him in that role all the damn time orgiwroimvwr #everyone is a dumbass and sav is the keeper of dumbasses #I also spent nearly 4 hours making that moodboard i hope you're happy g_g #I just recycle the same boring joe birthday post every year bc I don't have any ideas nor do I have any resources in order to make-#-something different and/or better

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jaeminscoffee · 4 years ago

Text

6:45 PM

Pairing- Lee Jeno x reader.

Genre- Angst, Fluff.

Word count- 1.91k

Warning- False accusation, Jeno seems a little thick headed but he was just caught up in the heat, mention of breaking up but not really :))

Summary- Not the ideal off day with your loved ones that you were looking for.

"You need to tell me what's wrong, Jeno." you demand with a stern voice, having had enough of the way your boyfriend was acting.

Earlier today Jaemin, a good friend of yours, a best friend of Jeno's had come over, reason being missing his two best hype mates and not getting much time to spend with you after having a hectic schedule.

Jeno was fine the first two hours, interacting well, cracking stupid tacky jokes, sometimes even ganging up with Jaemin to make fun of you. But you noticed the gradual strip out of his patience, furrowing his eyebrows or gripping the pillow in a death grip. His subtle glares towards his friend was not given a blind eye, you noticed it all. Typical Jeno. He's always been a little jealous over your slightly curved affection for others.

It was only when he did something he's never done throughout the years of one, your relationship, two Jaemins friendship that had you completely shocked.

"I have nothing to tell you, Y/n" He replied with the same tone he held an hour ago after the guest left the house. You weren't going to buy his bullshit.

"You screamed at Jaemin asking him to get out. Do you still have nothing to tell me?" you ask, walking up to where he sat by the edge of the bed.

"I said i have nothing to tell you." Voice hoarse, the veins on his neck protruding prominently from how strained his jaws were. "Well you do." You spit out as soon as you stood in front of him, his gaze still fixated on the floor.

"I. Don't." he repeated the words through gritted teeth. For a normal person, he'd be extremely intimidating and would've had the other weak in their knees from how threatening he sounded. Fights are normal for any couple but the last you'd heard him use this tone was when someone tried to touch you at a club you went to for the weekend.

"Then I do. Jaemin's your best friend for god's sake! He came in here, wanting to spend some quality time with us and he was an absolute sweetheart throughout even! And what do you do? Scream at him? For what? He seemed so hurt! What must he be thinking right no-!"

"Enough!" Jeno stood up, towering over your much smaller figure with his as he narrowed his eyes down at you, nose flaring. You wouldn't be shocked if he started breathing out flames.

You jump from the sudden raise of his voice, having to crane your neck to look up at him, hands shaking the slightest from the flinch you just experienced.

"Jaemin this, Jaemin that. Who's your boyfriend, huh?" He started walking forward, almost stepping on your toes if you hadn't moved back, "Actually, he might as well be! You're always on about him and now you even want to go defend him" he poked at your right shoulder, pushing you back as you gaped at his words, completely taken aback by his assumption.

"All i wanted was one fucking day to spend with you but nope! You want your dearest Jaemin with you. All the fucking time! Do you not love me anymore, Y/n?" Jeno let out an exhale, pushing you back with a single finger still on your shoulder, making you step back, "Jen-" "No you wanted me to tell you what's wrong right? Hear me out then!"

"Is Jaemin all you think about, Y/n? Is that why you're getting so worked up over me shouting at my best friend?? Emphasize the word, my. My best friend, why is it affecting you? Huh?" He raised his voice once again, you turn your head to the side, crunching up the facials trying to make out why he's making this a big deal. It was his fault to begin with.

"You want him that much then just go to him right! Or you want both of us because i won't be shocked at that, you're a sucker for anything remotely good looking anyways you won't hesitate to run your mouth all over town-!" Jeno stopped midway to completing his sentence, now noticing your glazed eyes and the heavy puffs of air you took.

"are you done?" you ask with trembling voice, Jeno opened his mouth to speak but you held your hands up, stopping him, "If this is about Jaemin-" Jeno took in a sharp breathe, hands going from poking at your shoulder to holding your shoulder in a tight grip at the mention of his best friends name. Though the grip was bruising, you muster up all the strength you had, removing his hands from you, quickly stepping back to create some space between the two of you.

"Then he's my friend too." you step back once again as Jeno stood his ground. "But if you heard yourself and actually think of me that way. You're more than welcome to just break things off." you grab the door knob as a tear slipped out, turning away to shield the weakness from your boyfriend who's head is stuck up his butt at the moment, and dashed out the room.

"Y/n wait-" you hear him call out for you, footsteps shuffling close behind but you grabbed the car keys, wanting away from him to clear your mind the least. One of you should stay sane.

Driving away to your safe space, the old library that took a journey of around 25 minutes, which is most likely to be 'anything living and breathing'-free as not many knew of that place, which made you love it even more.

Whiffs of old bookcases are calming.

You were pleased to find out your assumptions were correct, not a single soul other than a tired out cashier who seemed long passed out, given he failed to hear the ringing of the entrance opening.

You make your way to the extreme back, not particularly wanting to read anything with your thoughts clouded, allowing yourself a seat you found at a secluded corner.

You take your phone out, that had been vibrating since you left home after Jeno's sudden outburst, ignoring them, wanting him to feel bad for what he's done throughout the day, you scroll through your phone searching for Jaemin's contact, opening up messages to type in a quick apology for your boyfriend's behavior, explaining it must've been the the fatigue that got to him, but made sure to tell him not to wave off this behavior and screw him when they meet later.

Getting a reply almost immediately, you were shocked to find out Jaemin was still as bubbly as ever, saying it's fine and that he didn't take anything to heart which just made you feel even guiltier than you already felt.

Texting back and forth, Jaemin being more than ready to keep you company after you narrated what had happened back home, cracking jokes to make you feel better when you wantedly missed out on a few parts to tell him, you jolt when you feel a hand tear you away from the screen and the table in front of you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

Warmth being familiar, you resist the urge to hug him back, not even bothering to ask him how he'd known where you'd be at as this is known to be the place you go to calm your mind, rather all those cliché places like the bridge or a cliff, or the beach, or taking a stroll in the twilight whatsoever.

"Y/n I'm so so sorry, please don't run off like that again" he spoke, Jeno mimicked your voice from before, this time quivering with guilt. "Let go, Jen" you spoke with a voice void of all emotions, tables turning as you mirrored his voice from the time of the argument.

"No, I won't, I'm so sorry, I meant nothing of what I said! Trust me, I was just being unreasonable and petty, i would never want to let go of you. I'd be an idiot if i did so" he spoke against your hair, grip around you tight, yet delicate, soft enough for you to step out if you'd wished.

"Yes you were." you reply, slowly raising your hands to feather over his elbows as he pressed you further against his chest, "I know. I'm really sorry, love. I was just jealous is all. And it had been a rough week at work and all that got to me but trust me when I say I'll do anything to repent just, please don't let my words get to you" he caressed your back.

"Those were all words of spiked up anger, and i really want to throw myself off a cliff, I'm really sorry, i am" he pulled away enough to place a peck on your forehead.

"you'll do anything?" you repeat his words for confirmation, finally allowing yourself to throw your hands around his torso. You look up at him, seeing a faint crimson at the white of his eye, the hue being really pale that you'd not make out if you stood a couple yards away. He must've shed some tears, just like you.

"Anything." with a nod, he hesitantly placed a delicate kiss on your lips, scared you'd shatter if he'd pressed any harder.

"house chores for a week." you narrow your eyes at him, not wanting to drag the fight for long as it'd only take a negative toll on your relationship.

"Okay!" Jeno's face evidently lightened up, quick to think he's forgiven, "thank you for forgivin-"

"Don't be so sure on that, boy. You still have one thing left to do until I completely forgive you" you step back, turning to walk back towards the exit, fishing for the car keys from the back pocket of your jean, turning around and throwing the keys at him swiftly, his reflexes allow him to catch it.

"You're driving to Jaemin's house and begging for an apology, right now." it was only the right thing to do even after the lad insisting on not being hurt. Jeno is his best friend, it's always sucky when you have your friend mad at you without knowing what you did. Worse if you didn't actually do anything.

"You have it." Jeno exclaimed, walking towards you as the two of you made your way to the exit. "you're doing it the way i want you to, though", you turn your body towards him after both of you stood by the door of the passengers side.

"And how do you want me to do it?" He inquired, leaning against the car. "First tell him exactly what you said to me" Jeno nodded, agreeing to do that, "Then give him a tight hug and repeat sorry until he swats you away" he contemplated for a moment, but eventually ended up agreeing to it too. "And then.. Give him a kiss on the cheek." Your boyfriend let out a sound of protest, leaning back further onto the surface.

"Do i really have to??" he asked, whining.

"Yes."

"Like, really? really?"

"Mhm"

"for real? Real? Is it that important?" you let out a sigh at his constant poking at your side as he pushed further with the question.

"Do you want me to forgive you or not?" you ask, voice demanding, a hint of teasing evident. "Yes!" he was fast to reply.

"Then give him a kiss. "

533 notes · View notes

minahoeshi · 4 years ago

Text

to be yours and you, mine.

Kuroo Tetsurō x reader | just pure angst. so much angst.

warning: major character death

prelude: the end lets its presence be known before it comes around. At times, that sense of awareness feels like a blessing. But with you and Tetsurou, the reminder of what soon will come can only hurt you even further. Because mankind has never been powerful enough to do anything against so many things. We have always been weak in the face of nature. especially against the passage of time and all the things it keeps taking from us.

It's almost odd how the world changed when you realised what the moments of silence has reduced your relationship into. How, when you finally acknowledged the fact that perhaps the end of a prolonged short story is nearer than you'd rather believe, a filter seemed to slip off of the camera, along with the vibrance you never realised was raised too high. It's not like the frames suddenly are less colourful. It's just that the tinges of blue in the shadows and highlights have made themselves more obvious, like a sign waiting for you to conclude things yourself.

Maybe it's because it's the new years and new beginnings just seem so scary. Or maybe it's the ice in the air, or the meteorologist on the television announcing that it's 7°C that morning that makes the lack of warmth between you and him more unbearable. But you wake up to the silence of the world, not even the birds are around to fuss above your house. To the empty space beside you, a reminder of his message three days ago.

Tetsu(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

I'm staying with my family this new year. Okaa-san thinks I need to spend 'the end of the year and the beginning of a new one with those that made such days possible for me'. You know, her usual line to remind me of their importance. Miss you.

Let's video call on new year's eve, yeah?

received 9:26

He did call you last night. Not the video call he promised, but a voice call on Line. But you didn't answer. If he asked why, you would've told him you were with your friends in a shrine celebrating new years with prayers for a better future for one another, drinking sake, and walking the streets of Shibuya with your girls and gays and the one guy friend that everyone wonders how he ended up in the group.

It didn't hurt that he only called you once and never tried again. It didn't hurt that he didn't ask why. But fuck was it painful to hear the voicemail.

"Happy new year, Y/N san. I'll see you tomorrow. I'll be there with you, I promise. I love you. So much."

It's scary and painful how his voice seemed to waver. How it was shaky and devoid of his usual timbre, a ghost of what once was a joking and rarely serious tone that took light of most situations. His voice that you loved so much, absent because maybe he knew too.

Maybe he was aware that no saving can be done to bring forth the past as if it was the present. To rebuild the broken and to remind you both of what you had all these years. To you and him, the signs couldn't be more obvious. When the world crumbles, you don't save it. You kiss it goodbye and go on to search for a new one. One that won't break with you in it. (but you know you won't search. you never do.)

You spend the next hours awake. The consciousness, unwanted. You want so much to just fall down as if the darkness can just swallow you and you'd be happier in it. In silence, you might feel better.

But you can't help the way your brain works. You bask in the reminiscing, the present disappearing before you until it's the past that owns you.

It's not the memories that grabs hold of you but him in his entirety. You cry because you will miss all that he is. The lazy tone he uses when he feels comfortable beside you on the couch. The humour he finds in everything, even in chemistry which is crazy because nothing about chemistry is comical. The messy hair he refuses to tame because he loses his identity, a piece of him, his pride and legacy when his hair looks neat. You'll miss his hand on your back when you're walking outdoors, his iced coffee with a secret ingredient that is probably not really a secret, his hugs when you feel yourself falling in the deep hole of misery, his excitement when he speaks of volleyball, his pride when he talks about his achievements, his— all of him. You'll miss all of him. Too much.

Kuroo spends the car ride thinking of you. Reminding himself to remind you of all that you must remember. To hold your hand tight for as long as he can until he can't.

He reminds himself of the things he love so much about you. Of your unequaled patience and trust in him. Of your ability to strip him of all his bad so that he can only see his good. Of your laughter when he speaks of his day as comically as possible. Of the mornings he wakes up beside you. Of your— everything. All that you are.

Because as the car nears your house, he feels himself crumble. Because he just knows what is about to come. So he must keep in him all your good and bad to be grounded. To stay long enough.

Kuroo stays in the car and stared at the door. The door that opens slowly and reveals you in your scarf and windbreaker. Beautiful. You in all your tear-stained glory, your nose and ears red. He stares as you step into the snow and approach him. He stares as you knock on the window.

And so he opens the door.

You break again the moment you see him. You wish to be strong for him. He doesn't deserve your sadness and weakness but he told you to let yourself be. That your tears are better seen than hidden. Because it helps him and you know how you are feeling. So that he doesn't have to walk around eggshells because you both expose all your vulnerability to one another.

So you fall on his knees. You dont wait for him to get out. You cry on his lap and you know he cried with you. You fall apart together. The same way you built each other to be whoever you two are today, you both break each other.

You say, Testu. Tetsu Tetsu Tetsu Tetsu. He says it's fine, he's fine. He leans and kisses your head and you cry more the same way he does as he hugs you from above. I'm sorry, you say. I should've answered your call, you say.

But I was scared. I was too scared.

And you both know. You fear the same thing. Because as Kuroo is placed on his wheelchair with your help and Kenma's who has been with you two since the very beginning. He leaves both of you because he knows that's what's best. He gives Kuroo a hug before he drives away.

He's bone-thin. Dark bags under his eyes, cheekbones too visible, lips too pale— tired. He looked more tired than three days ago, before he suddenly disappeared that day and you felt too much pain because was he gonna leave you that way? Was he not gonna be with you until the very last of everything?

You were thankful he texted you that night. Because you would've gone crazy with all your thoughts. You understood why he had to go home. His family needed him and he needed them. You couldn't be selfish.

That night, you spend hours on your bed with Kuroo. He didn't need the morphine, he tells you. He's okay. But his breathing is ragged and he's sweating. He can't move without hurting. But you don't give him painkillers because he told you so. So instead, you kiss him. You kiss him and tell him you love him. You tell him you were happiest with him. He doesn't talk much. But the last he said before you both slept was, "I love you too. More than anything and everything. I love you."

The next morning, you cry harder. This time, all by yourself. Tetsutetsutetsutetsutetsutetsu. He never responds.

You cry harder.

But at the very least, he was still holding your hand.

Tetsu(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

Science is yet to prove the existence of reincarnation so instead of pinning everything on it, I'd rather appreciate this one life I spent loving you. Because there's no other way for me to have lived than to be yours and you mine. This one life is enough for the universe to understand that we are eternity, you and me. Forever.

I love you. I know you love me too.

2:09 am

You

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

5:27 am

Okaa-san - mother

Tetsu - nickname for Kuroo from his first name, Tetsuro. In Japan, cute nicknames are more common than endearments like honey or love.

Shibuya - a city or special ward in the prefecture, Tokyo.

Sake - Japanese alcohol made of rice and other ingredients.

Line - most used messaging app in Japan.

Thanks for reading!

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu fic #haikyu x reader #haikyuu angst #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo #kuroo imagine #kuroo reader insert #kuroo fanfic #kuroo fic #kuroo x reader #kuroo angst #nekoma

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pur-pled-aw-thor · 4 years ago

Text

The Truth

Sherlock x Reader

Summary: Y/n has been keeping up the truth everyone, but one day the truth will afloat.

Word count: 4.9k (whaaat the-)

Warnings: none

GIF not mine

THIRD POV

Saturdays are meant for having fun or just staying inside your room and rest. But of course Y/n's life isn't like that. Especially she's working with Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson.

"You know we can just leave this case with Lestrade right?" Y/n asked the tall man in front of her.

"If you would just look up the security footage, then sure we can turn those over and continue this." Sherlock said not even looking at Y/n. John is busy with searching more about it, or trying to update his blog.

After a few, ten, tries Y/n got in the security and downloaded all of the footage from last night and prior the incident.

"It's already downloading, just wait for a few minutes." She stated standing up and went to the kitchen for some tea. But then she heard her phone's notification is blowing up. Sighing in annoyance, she placed down the kettle and got her phone.

-Mr. Blabbermouth

• Why on Earth is my brother on a case again

• Don't tell me you've downloaded something again

• Meet me in British Public Library, 20 minutes.

• Do bring your I.D, we'll be staying for a while.

Y/n read the texts and tried to choose, get rid of him and continue drinking tea, or get rid of him and continue drinking tea.

'Either way my life will still be a mess.' She thought and sighed. Getting her coat and tying her hair up, John looked up from his screen.

"Where are you going?" He asked, causing Sherlock to look also at the y/h/c girl.

"I need to go to my mum's house, she needs help with my sister." She lied, like what she's been doing for a long time.

"Well what about the footage?" Watson asked pointing at the laptop on the couch. "It'll be done in 15 minutes, after that it'll automatically leave the site." She said adjusting the timer and entering her code.

"Okay just take care." Watson said smiling at her. Nodding, she immediately went downstairs and passed by Mrs. Hudson.

"Where are you going?" "To my mum's, Mrs. Hudson!" She exclaimed leaving faster.

Walking down the streets of London, the cold breeze of the morning is never new to Y/n. It made her feel happy that she chose to change her life.

Upon reaching the Library, a car parked by the curb. The person got out and Y/n followed.

She knew this whole place like it was just the alphabet, but more on security and alarms.

She walked through shelves and shelves of books until she reached a corner, her corner. The person is already sitting down flipping the pages of a book.

"I know you did something just to help my brother again, and I would like to know what." He stated, well demanding.

"It would've been better if you were the one to ask him, Mycroft." Y/n said confidently, not feeling any intimidation from the man.

"It's better if he knows about the truth." He said proudly. "Do sit, Y/n. It is your ridiculous corner after all." She removed her coat and hung it on the chair.

"Tell him the truth and I'll visit him." "I would rather let you get hit by a train before the truth leaves my mouth." Y/n said rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.

"Any truth will be accepted." "I don't have that much of a choice." "The past or the present. You decide." "Neither, Mycroft. You're basically the British Government, so how can you not know anything about what's happening in 221-B Baker Street?!" Y/n almost shouted at the man in front of her. The man snapped the book close, Y/n didn't even flinched.

"Just tell me and we can wrap this up." He said and Y/n sighed. "It's about those random killings that don't make sense." She said rolling her eyes. "It does make sense to Sherlock Holmes." Mycroft stood up from the chair and got his umbrella.

"It's easy for you to tell me the truth but never to Sherlock." He said turning towards the aisle. "One day the truth will afloat, Y/n. Good day." He said walking away from the corner.

Y/n stared at the chair in front of her and tried not to let Mycroft inside her head.

"I made a promise to be careful with my choices and whom to trust. I can't break that." Y/n said to herself, trying to remember what happened 3 years ago.

3 years ago

'I can live by myself and made the right decision, yeah?' Y/n asked herself while the man pulled up on the curb.

'I hope so.' she got out of the cab and the man helped her carry her stuff inside the building. She paid generously and took up the boxes herself.

When she was about to get the last box, she ran into the landlady carrying a tray of tea.

"Oh hello dear! You're already here, you have your keys right? Anything you need?" Y/n smiled at the landlady's kindness.

"No Mrs. Hudson, I was just about to get the last box from downstairs." She said politely and got curious about whose tea is she bringing.

"I'll see you for a while dear, I need to bring this up." Mrs. Hudson said and continued to ascend the stairs.

"You should stop hoarding books, it's gathering up dust." She heard Mrs. Hudson scold at the other flat beside hers.

"Well if you would clean up then they won't, Mrs. Hudson." A man with a deep but smooth voice said.

"I'm your landlady, Sherlock. Not your housekeeper." Mrs. Hudson exclaimed storming out of the flat and passing by Y/n.

'I'm still wondering how Mrs. Hudson never noticed.' Y/n asked herself while placing the box down and tried to search for the key to her flat.

"It's the silver key with a round head and a line engraved horizontally." She looked around and saw him.

'Sherlock Holmes'

She got the key and it fits in the keyhole. She silently chuckled to herself for being smarted up by him.

But then she realized what Sherlock Holmes would have done for the past 2 minutes she was just standing there.

She immediately went inside and closed the door. She heard about Sherlock Holmes and his talents in being a detective. Most of the policemen don't take him seriously because of his assumptions and ideas that he gives immediately.

But they are left befuddled because he is right all along.

"Great, the plan on living a new life is starting to crumble with him knowing who I am." She said face palming herself.

"As long as I'm not suspicious, he won't notice it." She said standing up and opened up the blinds.

A week

'Oh god no. Please no.' She said trying to feel every pocket and slot she has in her coat, pants and purse.

'I did forget my keys in.' she said kicking the door in frustration. She sat down by the steps and tried to call a locksmith.

A few calls later they all said they can't go to their street because it was filled with snow. They can help her tomorrow morning.

"Why did Mrs. Hudson need to leave today?" She said hugging her coat more to gather up warmth. Next week is already December and snow got here early.

She tried to pull her bonnet down more to cover her ears with her hair, but the draft coming from the upstairs and moving behind her got colder.

"At least my laptop isn't going to freeze overnight, lucky bastard." Y/n said rolling her eyes and huffing.

She heard shuffling from Sherlock Holmes' flat and saw him placing paper on the table. Sherlock saw Y/n and looked at the door to her flat.

He went closer and Y/n smiled in embarrassment, "I forgot my keys inside." She said paying attention to her gloves now.

Sherlock went back inside and started removing books and papers from the couch and placing them on the table or floor.

"You can stay here for a while. Who knows when Mrs. Hudson might return." He said leaning on the door frame.

Y/n stood up and passed by him, trying not to look like she's taking it up for granted. She sat down on the couch and Sherlock prepared tea.

Sherlock can't comprehend why he welcomed her into his flat even though he's only seen her every afternoon to get food and comeback with it.

And what disturbs him, is that he can't read her like everyone else. She's like, an unexplainable being.

Sitting down on his chair, Sherlock tried to think a way to get to know her.

"I'm Sherlock Holmes, the only consulting detective, because I invented the job. I have an older brother named Mycroft." He said as a starter and she smiled.

"I'm Y/n, I don't have a job right now but I will find one, hopefully. I actually don't have a sibling, just me and my parents." She said chuckling and Sherlock smiled. He heard the tea was ready and he asked her about what she likes.

Handing her a cuppa, she accepted it and Sherlock let her remove her coat so she can get comfortable. Y/n removed her coat, gloves and bonnet and placed them beside her.

They continued chatting, leaving unfinished experiments and paperworks in the kitchen and not noticing Mrs. Hudson got home because the road was already cleared out.

A year ago

"How did you do that?" Sherlock asked Y/n and she almost fell from her seat. "Did what?" "Getting into the security cameras of Baker Street." He said pointing at the screen.

"You won't tell?" She asked and Sherlock nodded. "Obviously I can hack into them, besides cameras are very easy to hack." She said rolling her eyes and Sherlock celebrated about learning what Y/n can do.

"This is amazing! You can help me in cases and everyone can know!" He exclaimed proudly but Y/n said otherwise.

"No one can know! You promised!" She exclaimed and slapping Sherlock's arm jokingly.

"Besides I can only be accessible within 20 meters away from you." She said showing the map to Sherlock, "Well then come with me every day but of course just stand by. Wait till I tell Lestrade!" He said and reassured Y/n that he was an inspector that she can trust.

'I know Lestrade alright.' She thought smirking on her screen while Sherlock tried to find his phone.

A month after that

"Hello Sherlock." Y/n heard a woman entering the lab and she stopped on her tracks when she saw her. "Hello Y/n." She said sadly.

It's been a month since Y/n was silently working with Sherlock. She met Molly in the process, well she was always around wherever Sherlock is.

Especially if he's in the lab.

Y/n's phone got a notification and she looked at the message.

-Lestrade

Someone was on the phone for you.

Y/n

Who was it?

-Lestrade

Private matters they said.

'Private matters they said'

-Mr. Holmes

The car is waiting at the corner.

'Not this again.' She thought reading the message. Either she goes now or let them wait and risk getting fetched by them.

-Y/n

I'll be leaving for a while. Please look out for Sherlock, Lestrade.

-Lestrade

I will.

"Sherlock I'll be going out for a while." She said getting her coat and wearing it. "Can you get me coffee?" "I can get you one." Molly intervened and both of them looked at her.

"The usual Y/n, if it's not a burden." Sherlock said looking again at the microscope.

"Oh umm, I think I'll be gone for an hour, so Molly might help you with that." She said looking at the messages.

-Mr. Holmes

The longer you take, the longer this talk will be.

"It's fine with me, what's your usual?" Molly asked Sherlock and both of them replied.

"Black 2 sugars." They said in unison and Y/n left immediately while trying to run through everything or everyone.

She saw the car and immediately got inside.

"Stop haunting me, Mycroft Holmes." She said keeping her phone away and looking outside the windows.

Today

"It's almost 4 years now since I moved and 2 years since I started working with him." Y/n said laughing at the page she had a note on.

'Before the December morning came, a chance and a person changed the game.'

She closed the book and walked back towards Baker Street. It was almost noon and she knows Sherlock and John is waiting for her to come back.

Entering the flat, she already heard footsteps coming down the stairs and saw Mycroft with John and Sherlock behind him.

"What did you do again Sherlock?" She asked trying not to look like she knows Mycroft.

"I can reassure you miss, he didn't do anything wrong. Good day brother, Dr. Watson." He said leaving.

"Lunch?" She asked the two and they nodded.

They went to a Café and started to eat lunch. Went back to Baker Street and John took a rest for a while. Leaving Y/n and Sherlock continuing to solve the crime.

"It doesn't make sense! He's just killing random people!" Sherlock exclaimed looking at the wall. John is still asleep on his chair, covered with papers.

"Maybe you just need to look at the minor factors they have. Maybe they all have something very important that the killer would want." Y/n said getting through the files about the case. Sherlock stared at the girl in front of him.

'How can you be so smart at the same time be bossy?' he thought returning his gaze at the wall.

They continued their work and John woke up an hour ago. Until it was night time and Mrs. Hudson brought them tea.

"Sherlock, why is there a big toe on your sink?" She asked rather disturbed. Y/n laughed at Sherlock's constant behavior of experimenting with things.

Sherlock's phone rang and it was Mycroft. He sighed and answered the phone.

"What is it Mycroft?" He said dropping the papers he was holding on the table.

"What?! An emergency? Where?" He exclaimed causing the three to look at him. "What's the matter, Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson asked walking nearer.

"We'll be right there." He said dropping the call and got his coat. "What the hell is going on?!" John exclaimed trying to get Sherlock's attention.

"A family is now on ransom and Mycroft thinks it's the killer." Sherlock said wrapping up his scarf and the two wore theirs.

"I don't get it? A family? How are they connecte-" "The father is an official in the government, a close person to the royal family." He said climbing down the stairs with John following.

Y/n got stuck on the doorway and processed what Sherlock just said. She got worried and immediately went down the stairs.

They got a cab and they reached a building. Police and a few government employees were there to plan out.

"Sherlock! In here." They saw Mycroft went inside a vehicle a few feet away the commotion. It was filled with monitors connected to the cameras inside.

"An empty building perfect for a murder isn't it?" Sherlock said rather excited and John nudged him not to be happy.

"Any news from the inside?" "No, the killer won't let anyone in. He's controlling the entrances, except for the cameras which is odd." One of the men said showing the doors.

They stayed there for almost 10 minutes without any movement from the killer. They found him sitting on an antique chair looking at his phone and wearing a ridiculous mask.

The television beside him lit up and the camera couldn't clear out what the television is flashing.

"This is the Y/l/n Family, if you still want to see them alive. You know who you are, give me what's so precious to your family." The killer said laughing under his mask.

"That is the live stream, we can see them here on camera 16, inside a room tied up. The same as the television is showing." The men said but they noticed something blinking at the middle of the chairs the family is sitting.

"And there's now a bomb planted. Call the bomb disposal team!" They tried to contact people from the outside to find a way inside faster.

Because there's a bomb on the middle of the room, and it wasn't making the job easy.

"I just need to talk to youuu~" The guy sang and laughed like a psychopath. He stood up and started dancing.

"Sherlock, anything?" John asked the man scanning around the monitors and starts to get frustrated. "Are you sure all of the exits are closed?!" He exclaimed and they nodded showing every camera angle of the exits.

Y/n opened up her laptop and plugged in a USB. Mycroft noticed and he looked at her telling no. But her eyes said it was the only way.

After transferring files from the USB, she took out her phone and connected it to the laptop. Before finishing up and shutting her laptop, she typed something on the notes.

'Might be the best time to say it then.'

She closed her laptop, stood up next to Mycroft and handed him her phone. He was confused on why she gave him her phone.

"He'll think I might call the police if I brought my phone with me." "Well you're already with the police." They whispered at each other. Y/n started to leave the vehicle and Sherlock noticed.

"Where are you going Y/n?" "Outside, I need to speak with them. I'll be back." She said hopping out of the vehicle and closing it.

Grabbing the chain that she got from the inside and locking it, she made sure they'll be safe. In case the killer notices her trap.

Sherlock's POV

Y/n left a few minutes ago and she still hasn't returned. The Y/l/n family is still inside and the killer kept repeating the phrase.

"I just want to talk to youuuu"

"Why can't anyone enter!" I said frustrated and ruffled my hair. Trying to think a way inside. "Vents?" "What's that, Sherlock?" "The vents! Is there any vents?!" The men showed me and there weren't any vents big enough for a human to fit in.

"Great." I said and they returned the monitors back to the cameras we were monitoring.

"Aha! I knew you'd come my dear!" We heard the man say and he pressed a button on his phone causing the doors to open.

Third POV

The doors opened on the main entrance, Sherlock and the others were glued to the screens.

Y/n entered with no hesitation and the doors closed once she was in. "Y/n?!" Sherlock exclaimed and went towards the door. It wouldn't budge and John started helping him.

"Did she locked this after she left?" John asked Sherlock and he nodded. They went back to the monitors and she was standing at a safe distance from the killer.

"Isn't this nice, Y/n? You and me seeing together again and talking." He said followed by a laughter that echoed through the whole hall.

"It's nicer if you didn't do any of those killings." She said standing there feeling the gaze of the camera towards them.

"I thought I would get your attention." He stood up immediately that surprised Y/n and made her back away. "And it did!" He said laughing like a maniac now.

"See this red button on my phone?" He asked and Y/n nodded. "Well, It's connected to the bomb. Just give me what I want and I can forget about pressing this." He said placing the phone on the table and handing out his hand.

Y/n looked at him seeing any tricks with this. Her eyes lingers on the screen and she saw her family, tied up inside the room and starting to panic.

The killer saw this and laughed, knowing this is going to be fun. "Need inspiration? I'll give you one." He said getting his phone and pressing a button that made her family look behind the camera.

"Say 'hi', they've missed you so much." He circled around her and she started to take the risk.

"No, Y/n don't do it!" Mycroft yelled at the monitors that made Sherlock look at his brother. "Getting attached?" John asked and Sherlock shook his head in disapproval.

"He knew Y/n all along. Don't you brother?" Sherlock asked and Mycroft nodded. "Before she lived in Baker Street." He said earning a laugh from Sherlock.

"So is there anything I should know about more?" He asked Mycroft and he nodded. "A lot." He stated not removing his eyes on the screen.

They continued watching the scene and Y/n is starting to take something out her pocket.

"If you have tricks on your sleeves, you know what will happen." He stated reclining and looking at her.

She raised up her chin and took out a phone. But it was a different phone, different from her day to day phone. She looked at it and handed it over to him.

"Why does she have another phone?" John asked the two Holmes, Mycroft looked at Dr. Watson and pointed at Y/n's laptop.

"How do you think she has access with every security and anything the government controls?" "That's a government phone controlling the security, data, archives and information about the whole United Kingdom." Sherlock intervened looking at his phone trying to call Lestrade to get them out of the van.

"Thank you for giving this Y/n." He said looking at the phone checking any tricks. He gave back the phone and showed her the lock screen. "Open it." Y/n swiped up the phone and unlocked it with the pattern.

Mycroft seeing the lock, he got confused. Sherlock noticed it and asked him. "Government phones don't unlock with patterns and pins. They rely on fingerprint and facial unlock." He said getting the phone Y/n gave him.

He turned it on and swiped up the lock screen. "Just like that?" Watson asked and Mycroft nodded. "She switched the phones." He said in disbelief and laughed. He grabbed the radio and started giving commands to get ready at the entrances.

"Thank you for unlocking it." He said standing up and circling her again. "You know your parents are very disappointed but relieved that they won't get blown up." He said laughing maniacally going through files.

"But I must say, they, especially Sherlock Holmes, still don't know the last thing you're hiding." He said pointing at the camera and opening his arms.

Y/n turned around and looked at the camera. "I don't know what he's talking about." "OH! That's a good one. Tell me more jokes!" He exclaimed laughing, Y/n is on the verge of punching him.

"You're a psycho." She said making the guy stop in front of her and smiled. "Well I thought you loved psychos, hence liking one of us." He said leaning towards Y/n and raising his eyebrows.

Y/n noticed the camera moving and pointing at the door and back at her. She sighed and bowed her head.

"I'm right, am I? You looove psychopaths!" He said and Y/n shook her head.

"Sherlock Holmes isn't a psychopath, he is a high functioning sociopath." She raised her head smirking at him, "And the only consulting detective with that title." She punched him through his mask that caused him so much pain and police started to enter the room.

They started to surround the guy and picked him up. They handcuffed him and gave back Y/n's phone.

"Before you take and lock him away-" she said getting near the guy, "I never knew you'd take it this far, Kevin." Taking of the mask, 3 men entered the room and going behind Y/n to back her up.

"B-but how did they entered the room! I have the controls over the entrances!" Kevin said and Y/n smirked. She waved her hand and the police took him away, yelling about how she did it.

The 3 men behind her looked at her proudly. She looked behind them and saw her family getting untied and the bomb was inside a case now.

Her family looked behind the camera and smiled. Mycroft handed her the phone back and took off the case to place it back on her phone. The television turned off and they heard people assisting her family.

"I know you two have a lot of questions, but I can summarize everything." Y/n said looking at them and sitting down on the chair.

"I made a deal with my family to live a normal life in exchange to continue hiding who I am.

Growing up behind doors was never easy because you can't make friends or learn social skills. Only few close family friends and the Royal Family knows who I am.

My brother and two sisters can live a normal life because they attended private schools which only rich people can attend. But I can't have that because I'm the first ever child of them and it would be a great plan to kidnap me right? In exchange for files.

But when I attended college, It was a private school and people don't care who you are anymore, and that's where I met Kevin.

He was nice and sweet just like how I thought all of the world's population is. But I was wrong.

Then that's when we broke up. A few years just living inside the house again not going out.

Then almost 4 years ago, me and my family agreed for me to leave and live somewhere and make sure that I'm safe.

And I am safe, especially having Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson as my neighbors and friends.

Having meetings with Mr. Blabbermouth, a.k.a Mycroft Holmes.

And having this phone with me that helps my family to know where I am."

She finished up but the three men are still confused. She understood why and she chuckled. Looking at the camera, the men followed her gaze and she stopped at the sign beside the chair.

"He was sitting near this sign and the phone's reflection is seen on the camera. I tried to make out his layout of the controls with the doors and placed all of it in folders."

She explained and opened the phone, "With every click of a folder, a door opens." She clicked one and they heard a door opening upstairs.

"I forgot to mention, I also studied with hackers and security when I was in college and living with my parents. That's how I learned it."

She said keeping the phone in her pocket. John smiled at her and looked at the two men. "And what was about the whole Sherlock Holmes thing?" He asked and Y/n sighed. "That was nothing." She said standing up and walking pass by them.

They exited the building and stood near Lestrade's car. He was assisting the family and talking with them.

"My name on your contacts is 'Mr. Blabbermouth'?" Mycroft asked and Y/n laughed.

"Don't worry, Mr. Sociopath and Mr. Oblivious aren't left out." She said walking away and nearing her family.

"Mom, Dad." She said hugging them almost crushing them. "I'll leave you lot to talk for a while." Lestrade said smiling at the scene before him.

"I knew you had a way, but I never thought you can pull that off!" Y/n's father exclaimed patted her back.

"She's a Y/l/n, she can do anything." She heard her brother and she ruffled his hair. "But of course, don't forget to introduce us your boyfriend." One of her sister said and she rolled her eyes.

"You can go back to them, we'll be okay." Her mother said but Y/n shook her head.

"I don't think I can leave you guys again." "As long as you can be safe and keep that safe, we'll be safe too." Her father said and her sibling nodded.

"Just remember to visit us on Christmas Day, okay?" Her younger sister said and she nodded. Tears brimming her eyes and she sniffles while trying not to burst out.

"I will always visit you lot." She said hugging them all, causing her to be surrounded by blankets that covered up her family.

Standing up, she waved good bye and walked back towards the car.

"Shall we leave?" Lestrade asked getting his keys. "Yes, let's go." Sherlock said opening the door for Y/n and she entered.

Their ride was quiet until they reached the apartment. "See you three tomorrow? Well if we have a new case for you three." Lestrade said and Sherlock nodded, getting inside first and leaving the door open.

"Yeah, see you Lestrade." Y/n said waving and entering the building.

John got to sleep immediately when he entered the flat, leaving Y/n and Sherlock.

"Well, erm, I guess I should be go-" she was cut off by Sherlock's mumbling. "I'm sorry, what was that?" "That's why I couldn't analyze you. You are unreadable and amazing at it." He said still staring at the fireplace.

"Yes, because of being able to hide from people, I'm never showy with anything." She said standing up and nearing the door.

"Good night Sherlock." She said turning towards her flat. "And yes, I like you. For almost 3 years now." She said never turning to look at him, and entered her flat.

She should've turned, because she never saw the smile Sherlock had hearing it from her. He leaned on his knees ruffling his hair. He continued smiling and sighed.

"Likewise, Y/n. Likewise." He said leaning back on his seat and stared at the ceiling.

#bbc sherlock #sherlock benedict cumberbatch #sherlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock smut #sherlock x reader #john watson #mycroft holmes #sherlock holmes #reader #x reader #sherlock + reader #bbc sherlock x reader

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peachyteez · 4 years ago

Text

death’s grip ≫ DAY FIVE, YES.

the tiger hybrid managed to escape from south korea’s top illegal hybird ring fights. of course, they didn’t let him go so easily. losing his chasers in a forest, covered in blood—his and others’—he decided to accept his fate of death from his wounds until a female and two other hybrids managed to take him from death’s grip.

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist: @defsoul15, @jaeminbluee, @joongiebug, @sunsethw4, @t-tbinnie, @chanyeolol, @danibookmarks, @hello-its-ya-boi, @murralyn, @alienmashup, @panini, @moon8894, @koasworld, @taetae123094, @luv3rxcha, @treasure-hwa, @etherealbyeol, @hwaseongzzz, @lovely-sanie, @orbitiiny, @deep-ocean-dweller, @babydolljo, @ms-starlight

can’t be tagged: @yoongisleftboob

feel free to let me know if you would like to be added to the list! :)

✧ notes: perhaps i kinda teared up while typing this up...

✧ WARNINGS: mentions of killing, death, and blood

back。| next。

“what do you mean, you know?” jiyu asked. she definitely isn’t expecting the news this early in the morning.

“they told me yesterday,” hongjoong explained. “how i almost...died.”

jiyu didn’t say anything, only letting out a small sigh before dryly chuckling. “that would explain why they were so nice yesterday at home.” she did find it strange how seonghwa and yunho were so behaving and nice when they came home the previous evening.

sensing her shift in mood, hongjoong worried that they had upset her and that the two could end up getting punished because of him. “wait, please don’t punish them—”

jiyu’s eyes widened at his words and she put her hands up in front of her. “woah, woah, woah, it’s okay, hongjoong. i’m not mad nor am i going to punish them,” she reassured. she softly smiled. “they didn't do anything wrong. i was actually trying to find a way and time to tell you without upsetting you, but i guess they beat me to that.”

hongjoong shifted his gaze out to the window. “you, know...they helped me open my eyes a little,” he meekly admitted. intrigued by his words, jiyu took a seat on the chair next to the bed. “i don’t know what they went through, but they seemed to have put their faith in you. i’ll be honest, at first, i didn’t know why—why trust humans again when all they’ve done is inflict both mental and physical pain on you? but...they seemed so earnest to defend you when i asked why you never told me i almost died.”

jiyu intently listened.

“and surprisingly enough, i couldn’t be mad at you for keeping that from me. even though i thought you were trying to defend my former owners by keeping my potential death a secret. i think deep down, i had unconsciously given you my trust a long time ago. i was just too prideful to admit or acknowledge it.”

jiyu licked her lips before carefully explaining her intentions. “you had just woken up a few days ago and i didn't want to suddenly drop the bomb on you that you were literally teetering between life and death. you could’ve gotten too emotional to think rationally and hurt yourself and others on accident...that’s why i kept it,” she slowly reached up and gently rested her hand on his head. he didn't flinch away. “but i guess, in a way, i was trying to defend humans, too. it would’ve been hypocritical of me to tell you that you almost died from humans when i’ve been telling you that there’s good ones out there,” she wryly smiled.

“but never forget. i always had your well-being in mind, hongjoong. i never had reasons to hurt or go against you.”

hearing her confession, along with relief, hongjoong felt a small tug of guilt in his gut. he never told her who he was or where he came from. his presence in her life could be a danger, yet he never said anything.

he took a deep breath before looking into her eyes. “i used to be part of an illegal hybrid ring fighting group.”

jiyu’s eyes widened again. searching his face for any signs of a joke, she found none. but she did notice his hesitance on continuing. “you don’t have to—”

“no...i think you should know,” he insisted before taking a deep breath. “i was part of the...blood pirates.”

jiyu could’ve sworn she almost fainted right there and then. blood pirates? that one illegal organization that never got caught? the one that illegally collected hybrids for their fights? she had so many questions. how did he escape? where were the blood pirates based?

hongjoong told her everything. “my parents were also part of the blood pirates. but there was a catch...i had to kill them as my final test for my training. i had to kill them...or they would kill all three of us.”

jiyu gasped in horror. hongjoong took a deep breath and continued. “after that, i locked all my emotions away. i lost touch with myself and i just...killed. i killed one after the other with no remorse. i thought that’s how life worked—only the strongest could survive, and that’s how i managed to survive for the past who knows how many years,” his ears drooped in sadness at recalling such chilling memories. “i hated it. the chanting and cheers of the crowd, the look of my opponent’s face right before the life slipped out of their eyes, how my hands were stained red after—” his voice broke with emotion. peering over at his face, jiyu realized he was holding in his sobs.

“i didn’t want to kill them...” he whimpered, staring down at his hands. hands that had once been stained with the blood of his opponents as he fought for his life. “i just fought to live. to see the sunrise the next day. but then i remember that they couldn’t; they couldn’t see the sunrise like i could. they weren't in the basement with me anymore. instead, they come back in my dreams, and i hear their voices haunting me. i’m a monster. a killer.”

listening to hongjoong and watching him bring his knees up to his chest as he cried, her heart broke. no one should have to go through that. no one should have to fight just to see the next day...no hybrid should ever have to live in fear and constantly think that today might be their last. nor should they ever have to think they were a monster.

before he could react, she stood up and wrapped her arms around him. she rested her chin on his head and comfortingly pat his shoulder. she couldn’t see his face, but she knew he must’ve been surprised with how he had tensed up.

“you’re not a monster, hongjoong. you did what you had to do to live. anyone would've done that,” she reassured. “it’s in our nature to do whatever it takes to survive. life’s precious, you only get one chance. and i’m sure your...opponents knew, too. it’s not your fault, hongjoong. you’re not a monster or a killer. the guilt you feel for having to take their life—that just shows that you have a heart, feelings,” she peered down at his glossy eyes. “have you ever considered that they might’ve come back to watch over you? rather than haunt you?”

by that point, even jiyu was crying. crying at the thought of how the tiger hybrid had endured so much pain by himself. he had no one by his side to help him. the other hybrids with him had the same goal. to live. befriending each other would’ve made them too emotionally attached to each other to kill.

feeling her tears land on his cheek, it only prompted his unshed ones to fall. he buried his head in her neck and cried. cried out all of the tears he had for the ones he killed, cried out the despair and hopelessness he’s felt ever since he was old enough to process the world around him. but most importantly, cried at the thought of being finally being safe and away from the bloody, heartless world he came from.

she held him close. despite being an adult, he seemed so small, so childlike as he hugged her and cried. rocking him from side-to-side, she ran her fingers gently through his hair and whispered comforting words to him. “they’re in a better place, joong. i promise. they’re free from the pain.”

feeling his body shake in her arms from his sobs, it took every ounce of strength for her to not sob along with him. she had to stay strong. she had to keep him grounded. a while had passed; hongjoong’s cries filling the room with jiyu comforting him.

she suddenly stopped combing through his hair. “would you like to come home with me?”

hongjoong pulled away from her at the question. “w-what?” he sniffled.

she grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and gently dabbed his tears away. “i know it’s sudden...but would you like to come live with us three?” she asked. “i’m not forcing you to, it’s a hundred percent your decision. i just realized you don’t have anywhere to go after you’re discharged here.”

hongjoong blinked, slowly processing her offer. his heart raced with happiness. he wanted nothing more than to spend his days in her safe presence, to spend his days getting to know seonghwa and yunho. but deep down, he felt something holding him back.

“b-but the blood p-pirates...” he managed to stutter out. he was terrified of what could happen if they found him again. he didn’t want to endanger three innocent people just because he was selfish and wanted to experience heaven for a while longer.

“don’t worry about them. if they ever show up, i have a lot of connections,” she smiled, a mysterious hint to it. hongjoong grew curious. connections? what kind? who was she?

“besides, if you were alone in the forest that day, they probably presumed you were dead,” she reasoned. “bottom line is...you’ll be safe with me, hongjoong. with us; me, seonghwa, and yunho. i swear on my life. so...what’s your answer?”

hongjoong stared deep into her eyes, trying to find signs of uncertainty—heck, he was even waiting for her to say it was a joke and that she would never adopt him for who he was. but she didn't. she stared back; an unwavering and determined expression. she was dead serious.

was he ready to start a new life? was he ready to leave his old life behind and start again from scratch with a new family? does he deserve this second chance after all the lives he’s taken?

suddenly, a little voice, as clear as day, rang next to his ear. yes. all of a sudden, it was like every fiber of his being and soul was pushing him to accept. feeling a slight breeze blow past him, he felt at ease. maybe jiyu was right; they were watching out for him, looking over him despite their tragic ending by his own hands.

“hm, where did that breeze come from?” jiyu frowned, seeing that the window was still closed. she looked back down to the hybrid on the bed in front of her before smiling and extending her hand towards him. “so? will you join us?”

with his ears perking up with a newfound burst of energy and his tail waving around with anticipation at his new future, he slowly reached out with his own hand and clasped her’s. “yes.”

she grinned. “well, seonghwa and yunho will definitely be excited as i am about you joining our family.”

#9th member of ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez angst #ateez fluff #kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong imagines #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong scenarios #ateez hongjoong #hybrid au #kpop hybrid au #ateez hybrid #hybrid!ateez #ateez au

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cherryblossomstars · 4 years ago

Text

IV. Sky (W. Ushijima)

Taken from my AO3 series of one-shots & reposted here; this part is more Oikawa centric

Pairing: Ushijima x F!Reader; platonic Oikawa & Reader

Word count: 2,305

Genre: Hurt/comfort (from oikawa)

Summary: Aoba Johsai's volleyball team has never been able to defeat the Great Ushiwaka of Shiratorizawa. Their manager, however? She can bring him to his knees in mere seconds.

Or, Ushijima Wakatoshi is helplessly in love with Seijoh's Ace's twin sister, and the Aoba Johsai VBC is not appreciative of it.

Previous | Next

Dating Ushijima is not easy. Especially when Oikawa is your best friend.

Especially in situations likes these. Aoba Johsai vs Shiratorizawa in the Spring Interhigh Preliminaries. You sit on the benches with the coaches, towels, and water bottles. Your boyfriend may be the ace and captain of Shiratorizawa, but your team is Aoba Johsai. You promised to wear Oikawa's blue jersey in support.

It took three sets, Shiratorizawa coming out as the victor. Unlike a usual sweep of two sets, Aoba Johsai almost won this time. Instead of smiling at your boyfriend on the court, you paid attention to Oikawa's bowed head.

He would not cry on the court. But you know that later tonight, when he is alone and watching the video of their match he will need a friend with him.

After quickly cleaning up the water bottles and towels, you make your way to the foyer. Shiratorizawa is out of the gym first.

Ushijima does not know how to read the atmosphere, but he can tell from your worried expression he will have to talk to you later.

"I'm sorry, Wakatoshi, I just..." You avoid making eye contact with him out of shame. He's your boyfriend, after all. You should be happy for him, and yet... "congratulations, though. Really."

He nods in understanding, he already knows who your mind is on. "go take care of him. I'll see you tomorrow." With a kiss pressed to your forehead, he leaves the stadium.

When your team finally walks out of the gym and makes their way to the bus, they are dead silent. The frustration was oozing off of them.

"Next year, guys." Oikawa perks up, slapping Hajime on the back. "We'll be at nationals next year. No doubt about it."

You're not sure if he's really convincing the team or himself. On the bus ride back, you take Hajime's usual seat next to Oikawa instead. Despite your smaller frame, he still finds enough comfort in you to fall asleep on your shoulder (even though his body is practically halfway slid down the seat). Under normal circumstances, either you or your brother would have shoved him off of you. Your arm wraps around his shoulders and your hand gently cards through his soft brown hair instead.

When you all make your way home after having a dinner with the team, Hajime is silent. Your parents feel the tension upon immediately stepping inside your house and decide to leave the both of you alone.

Rather than changing into pyjamas, you change into something else to prepare to head out. You carefully fold Oikawa's jersey, keeping it in hand.

When you walk into Hajime's room to check on him, he's laying on his back and staring at the ceiling blankly.

"I'm supposed to be the ace..." He doesn't even look at you, "so why...?"

You sit on the edge of his bed setting the jersey by your side, "I can't say."

"You're always with him. Is he just a better ace than I am?" Hajime looks at you expectantly.

"Wakatoshi is... one of the best aces in the country." You hear him grunt in response. "But you're every bit as good of an ace in your own right. You keep Oikawa in line. You even keep Kyoutani in line."

He's silent for a moment, "do you think... that I'm nothing as a spiker if Oikawa wasn't my setter?"

You frown, "what? No, of course I don't think that." You sigh, "no matter who your setter is, that doesn't change the fact that you can definitely hold your own against Wakatoshi. I don't doubt that. Sometimes a defeat is left to luck. Sometimes it's teamwork. But when it comes to Shiratorizawa and Seijoh... the both of them have skill on par with each other. It's not about who the better setter or server or spiker is. Your both amazing in your own right. Seijoh's teamwork is practically flawless. Shiratorizawa's main weapon is Wakatoshi. If he didn't have the stamina he has, they would've fallen apart years ago. Not to mention Satori's blocks..."

You continue on with your speech, trying to keep your brother's morale up. By the time you finish, his breathing is even and his eyes are shut.

You make sure to grab the jersey before leaving the room. "Next year." You whisper and shut the door.

"Hey, I'm going to Oikawa's." You mention to your parents on your way out of the house. When you get the okay, you make your way out and begin your walk. You've been to his house so often that the way there is practically muscle memory by now. You no longer have to look at signs or bring up your maps or rely on your brother to find your way to his house.

When you knock, his mom is the one to answer the door.

"Ah, Iwaizumi." She greets you with a knowing smile. She already knows why you're here. "He's in his room. I think he's still awake. Come in." She makes room for you to enter.

The smell of the Oikawa household is familiar to you. You smile, the smell always reminds you of home. You can point out everything in this house by memory. The TV stand has a cabinet with a glass door that, when Hajime was much younger, he had slammed closed too hard and shattered the glass. At the kitchen, there was a particular corner of one of the counters that, when you and Oikawa were play-fighting, he had slammed your head against on accident and you lost consciousness. Oikawa's mother had to bring you to the emergency room. You had a pretty bad concussion and when you regained consciousness, Oikawa was next to you, trying to apologize through his sobs and hiccups.

When you enter Oikawa's room, it doesn't surprise you how dark it is. The only light comes from his computer, blocked partially by his frame. He sits there, dead silent with his knees raised to his chest.

"Mom, please, I already told you-" He stops short when he feels you snake your arms around him from behind.

You lay his jersey in front of him, the #2 glaring almost accusingly back at the both of you. "Hey." You murmur against his back.

"...shouldn't you be out celebrating with your boyfriend?" He practically spits out the last word.

You furrow your brows, "I can't come over and make sure my friend is okay?"

"I'm fine. I have next year. I'll win. Go congratulate Ushiwaka. He's the winner, you don't have any business here." He doesn't turn back to face you. The video continues to play.

Your heart sinks. You release him from your hold. "Tooru-"

"Go!" He yells. The venom in his voice is clear. "Shiratorizawa won. Ushiwaka's the winner. You don't have to be here! We didn't win. Just leave!"

"I want to be here!" You shout back, trying to keep the tears from falling.

"Why?" He finally, finally turns to you.

There it is. You knew he would cry. "You shouldn't be alone, Tooru, and you're my friend is it so bad to want to make sure you're doing okay?"

"I- How- How can you still call me your friend?" He's glaring at you.

"Excuse me?"

"You're dating that bastard Ushiwaka. How can you date someone wh-"

"Do not turn this on me, Oikawa." Your tears fall freely now, "that's not fair. Don't you dare bring my relationship into this. That's low, even for you."

"Why not?! How can you like him?! You're our manager, for god's sake! Why don't you just go to Shiratorizawa? Huh?" His words cut deep.

You open your mouth to say something. When your voice cracks instead, you decide it's pointless to argue with Oikawa when he's like this. You leave without another word.

The volleyball team immediately knows something is wrong when you don't sit with the third years during lunch like usual. Instead, you sit quietly with your other friends in the lunchroom. To add to the confusion, Oikawa is very clearly in a bad mood and quickly shoveling down his food and ignoring the conversation before leaving and going outside to grab a volleyball and practice his sets.

When they turn to Hajime, he simply shrugs in confusion. He's not sure what's happening either.

Oikawa's serves are much more powerful, but lack any control. He keeps setting a little too high, putting too much power behind them. He doesn't speak.

You come to practice and do the bare minimum. You write and hand out towels and water bottles to everyone (excluding Oikawa). You don't care, he could call you petty. He's an asshole. You also don't speak.

"Iwaizumi." Your coach calls over one day. Both you and your brother turn to look at him. "Hajime."

He nods and runs over.

"What's wrong with those two?" He points at you and Oikawa.

Hajime shrugs, "I don't know."

"Can you fix it?"

"The situation will probably fix itself, coach. [Name] has a date with Ushijima today and Oikawa's probably already started to get antsy since he hasn't been talking to my sister recently."

The coach nods in understanding. "Oikawa and Iwaizumi seem a little unstable right now, so until they both solve their problem, I need you to..."

Ushijima wasn't sure what to expect on this date. He knew you were upset, sure. He knew what Oikawa had done, of course. He just thought it would blow over by the time the both of you went out to the park.

Admittedly, he thought it did. The date went smoothly, but by the time it was time to go home and you both stood at your driveway, your tears wouldn't stop flowing.

He pulled you into an awkward hug (after a small internal debate), rubbing your back as you sobbed freely. "I don- Wh- Oika- He-" You blabbed pathetically. You couldn't even form a coherent word.

Several minutes had passed when you finally calmed down. "Ah, I'm sorry, Toshi... Your clothes..." You cringed at the sight of the dark spots on his shirt where your tears had fallen.

He shakes his head, "I don't care. Don't apologize."

Before you can say anything else, you hear someone clear their throat behind you.

Lo and behold, Oikawa stood there next to your brother. You'd never seen him look so uncomfortable before.

Ushijima gives you a nod of encouragement before he makes his way to leave. Hajime slaps Oikawa, pushing him forward and towards you and heads inside to your house.

You and the subject of your distress are left alone.

"I-" The both of you begin. You quiet down, letting him go first.

"[Name], I... Uh..." He's nervous, that much you can tell. "You're one of my best friends. I just... I don't think we should be friends anymore if I can't even keep my promise to you. I told you I would make it to nationals this year, and I couldn't even do that. I asked you to wear my jersey because I was so confident we'd win and..." He looks at you with a pained smile, "and we didn't. Pretty humiliating, huh? Sorry I put you through that."

Oikawa Tooru is not a genius. What he lacks, he's made up for through hard work. His bad knee can attest to that. He comes off as having an inflated ego, when it's really just the opposite. He's the most insecure person you've ever met. He's a perfectionist who knows that he can't be perfect. His drive to become the best is a result of knowing that he isn't the best and he likely never will be.

Your heart breaks.

"I don't care about whether or not you won, Tooru. I care about you. Wakatoshi can win hundreds of matches but that doesn't make you any worse. I didn't wear your jersey because of your promise, I wore it because I wanted to support you. You're the best at what you do. You taught me to set. You held me when I cried. You played with me when I was bored and you tutored me when I was failing classes. I'm not your friend because you're a great volleyball player, I'm your friend because you're a great person. I want to be there for you, so please just let me. You've always been there for me, let me return the favor. Your value to me doesn't depend on volleyball."

"...When I..." He steps towards you, enveloping you in his warmth with a hug. "When I think back on everything that's made me who I am today, everything that has made me do what I do and love what I love, you and Iwa-chan are always standing next to me in those memories. So I... I just wanted to go to nationals while we're all still together. I'm sorry I lashed out at you. I'm sorry I couldn't achieve what I've been promising for years now. Next year will be different. We'll win. And even if we don't..." He steps back from you, holding you by your shoulders at arm's length, "I'll go pro. And then you can cheer for me while I win every game from that point on."

You laugh, "I look forward to it, Tooru. Until then, do you think you can handle another loss?"

He tilts his head in confusion.

"I know you're a sore loser and you're sulking and all, but I'm still gonna kick your ass at Street Fighter."

"I'm not sulking! Iwa-chan! Your sister's being mean to me!"

"I am not! You're just pouty!"

"Pouty?! We'll see who's pouting when I beat you at Street Fighter."

Iwaizumi opens the door, "the both of you'd better shut the hell up before I lock you both outside."

"Eheh... Sorry, Iwa-chan."

"Sorry, Hajime..."

Fin.

#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #wakatoshi ushijima #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru #platonic oikawa x reader

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lawrising-a · 3 years ago

Text

( continued from here! // @pseudoneiric )

there's a sore sensation nestling against the sensitive skin of his wrist -- not rubbed raw, exactly, considering his tie is too silky to achieve such a feat ( and he, desperately, tried to move as little as possible ) but it still stings. a chiding reminder of what he allowed to happen not even minutes ago. yellow wrapped around him, completely bound and helpless ... it was something he can't say he's done before, not like that. he thinks the correct term would be bondage, but was it? gloved hands sinking beneath layers of flesh to expose the fluttering organs beneath, and expose her own in turn. call him crazy, but that's not what he thought bondage was about. but when was anything with lilian it's textbook definition? he can't blame anyone for his display of vulnerability except himself, completely ensnared with the girl the moment they crossed paths. there were times he watered down his attraction, for both their sakes, blaming her allure for his enchantment. yet lies come clean eventually and here he now perches. the edge of his mused bed, chest rising and falling more then it should as he burns with the black markings drifted upon his ivory skin. lipstick marks painting him in a light he's not used to. he's been stripped of all his warm tones and fake boy scout personas ; left in cool colors. green pants and black marks.

‘and what are you ... the sun?’ whispered a voice earlier, like every hushed word was a secret reserved between the two of them. mat rolls his shoulders, because he doesn't feel that way anymore. never has, honestly. he wants to be beaming lights with a killer gravitational pull, but he ... isn't. the colors on him now is a striking reminder of that : yet he replays lilian's maddening words and fools himself briefly. it's okay to believe lies when she's the one feeding them! as long as she believes it, why can't he humor it? everything she said had been a warped view, a funhouse mirror at those shifty carnivals -- but it was raw honesty from lilian, and he can't turn away the swell of attention. even if he should, even if mat should waltz into the bathroom where she's currently shrouding herself away and spill out the truth. let her know he isn't some angelic force but rather a mockery of one. how matthew naively hopes he can be hers regardless of his lack of good ... it's dizzying, causing his vision to blur, because it's been a while since he's confronted this about himself. the student doesn't like it. but oh, he loves her -- a burning sensation that lights his veins aflame and races his heart.

distractingly, he presses the pad of his rough thumb against the mark on the corner of his lips. a replica of a kiss she once bestowed upon him like salvation itself ( hm, what's with the spur of religious imagery today? hah ). trying to prod away the disappointment that rises every time he feels the wishful want of her actual lips there instead. she has to -- she has to feel something for him at this point, right? that can't be an assumption anymore, can it? questions whirl around as his fingers ghost down his ruined skin, tracing over the words left with his own hands like confirmation. like he's silently saying 'yes, property of lilian eyler.' like he's finally allowing himself a love he thought he wouldn't ever have when he traces, ‘mine. mine. mine-’ that ends with him working his way back up, away from the bulge of his stomach and trembling arms -- away from 'poetry, life, religion' and back to his lips. where he's reminded, with a fuzzy feeling balling up in his chest, 'mine.' almost pushing hard enough to slip a finger through his pink lips, plush and ready for ... mat isn't sure. he just wants her to kiss him there. though he knows she won't, least not today. and even if there's this sickening greed that controls him with a talent, he lets her have that. lets her take all her time in the bathroom and tries not to beg for more. how did she elegantly put in, in all her poetic prose that he's seen briefly in the club? a loyal dog? just for you now, only ever for you, lili--

a shiver rocks his form, startling his hands to the edge of the bed to tear into as he digs his heels into the carpet ( like he once had in the bed, to ground himself, to not buck ). was his pulse racing with the life she declared to adore so much? the man sinks canines into his cheek to hold back from beckoning her out to check. no, no ; he said he'd leave her be. it's a good thing for them both right now. if she had stayed and let the fabric obscuring his view fall from his eyes, he would've reached for her. try to pull them close and he'd ramble like a mad man ... wouldn't he have scared her? some part of him thinks he still has. which wobbles his posture in order to keep his head bowed, like awaiting punishment. almost waiting for pain building in his scalp, because surely she'd card her delicate laced fingers through his hair with a bit more force if she came back out. or was that his gentle throb of arousal wanting that? she got him worked up so easily ; ah, well, at least it's a good exercise for his thinning self control ...

a sigh, shaky and human, whistles out of parted lips. dry due to the fact he can't lick them thanks to the lipstick, though he can't help but wonder if he did -- would he be licking lilian's lips that way? the material touched them ... realizing how wild he is, a thoroughly teased animal, matthew laughs nervously. jesus christ, there's parts of him strewn all around his bedroom, because there's no way mat is fully put together. his brain feels like soupy liquid dripping from his ears and hissing into his scarlet skin. a puzzle of a man that lilian expertly took apart and left half completed. no matter how hard he tries to reel himself in, chase away all the sweetened morbidness delivered, he can't find all the pieces. surely, the clever girl took some with her to the bathroom. she was ... possessive. mat learned that just now. possessive over him, envious of basic things that matthew almost couldn't believe. she'll never know how comforting it was to see. a feeling now nestled happily within because nobody's been possessive of him before! she mustn't of gotten the memo from former friends, didn't hear how expendable he was to everyone who's known him. people don't get jealous for matthew, they don't care how much he sleeps, they don't care if he isolates away -- and they certainly don't care if his eyes linger on a girl with purple hair.

because who would find him special? he's an emotional wreck everyone stays weary of, a boy to eye with skepticism. his jealousy, his rawness, his obsessive love and need is wrong and ugly. you're shunned for those things by society. to the world, mat is anything but special, he's wrong ; so wrong and he's relentlessly tried to change that. but lilian ... she thinks otherwise. feels like he feels. sensitive and lovesick. and while he's always tried to hide before, if the girl with inky hair thinks it's beautiful and radiant ... everyone else must be wrong, because lilian eyler never is! as clever as the devil and twice as pretty, so the saying goes. with a rueful smile, too boyish and gentle for his own sharp face, he thinks it's an accurate fit for his favorite person ever. his throbbing molten core of earth, the darkened reflective surface of his beloved moon.

“im excited about lunch tomorrow, you know?” calls mat, voice as rough as ever ; like he uses it too much. but during this whole date, he fears he hasn't used it enough. “i haven't eaten with another person in a while. i usually just grab an apple and loiter around the library.” did you think i ate with yuri? though the fawn haired male doesn't ask, he quickly kills that assumption if it festered in lilian's mind. “if it goes well, we could ... ah, why don't we eat together from then on? maybe everyday? maybe forever! i think it'd be ... nice.”

the last part is so quiet he's not sure she hears it, but maybe she hears it die off. senses his shyness that bares him like it's her own. matthew doesn't want to dwell in it, so he tries to push forward. telling himself to keep tearing down the walls until there's nothing left ( the bathroom walls or his own? ). she deserves to hear more then his sputters from their little session, brought on by gutting arousal and his own jittery sparks : she deserves the world on an obsidian platter. to know he does want to be owned by her, to understand he'd be so comfortable displaying that label for all to see. and for lilian to be told, sternly, that he'd choose her out of a line up with certainty most would be scared of. love isn't half way for him, ever, and lilian needs to know that. even if his heart thunders and he wants to hear more of her disarming voice instead.

“and i want to be yours ; your idea with the whole 'blindly leading me around' wasn't half bad!” heartfelt chuckling makes him feel like he's vibrating out of his skin, her skin now, isn't it? “i'd let you blind me, i'd let you led me even if i was deaf and mute. you could be all my senses, because maybe then i'd trust them more. you don't know how much i wish these words on me were permanent, lilian --” mat twists his mouth, ruins his hair more. “darling, you just ... i've tried so hard to be normal this year, more then any other, yet you make me so helpless! it's ... how do you do that? do you know how special you are, how beautiful? perfect ... well, perhaps not that ; because you're stupid for worrying about not owning me. isn't it obvious you already do? were these reminders for me, or wishes for you?"

( eyes flutter to words he can barely read on his bared parts, words overlapping due to frenzy. all true. all true )

with a tightening throat, emotions rising like waves and god he could just drown, matthew lays back on the mattress. meekly pulling the tie out from under him, only to drag it over his used wrists. picturing only her. wondering if this sight would entice her to keep going when she comes out. and he wants to say lilian, you've won! congratulations on having a lover for life! or, something like : yuri couldn't pry me from your cold dead fingers! but what stumbles out is something foolish that he immediately grimaces over. hopefully she's too shaken to judge him too much.

“i think you're my soulmate, lilian. i .. really do.” so why would i ever let you go? or deem you unworthy? it's me, im unworthy. not you, never never -- his lashes tickle his skin when he shuts his eyes. breath hitching before evening out. reminding himself to calm down because matthew thinks he'll actually explode otherwise. a bundle of nerves, of her love, is all he really is.

#» death risen ( thread. )#lilian♡matty » i understand what love never could . i forgive what love never would ( pseudoneiric )#v.ddlc ★ and the boy who loves you the wrong way keeps weakening #pseudoneiric #tw suggestive #( okay so. i think this pales in comparison to your amazing answered ask. like pales so hard )#( but i hope this was a delight to read regardless !! )#( thought it was time to reply to this. a lil warm up gift for lilian's bday <3 )#( have some matty being lovestruck and a bpdcore mess for an entire response! )#( and oh! hope its alright lilian was like. in the bathroom. she seemed shaken from being so open that i thought she'd need a breather )#( if thats dumb im sorry </3 )#( ANYWAY hope this was good ik i said i wouldnt write but i lied. its lilian day )

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ghostyprince · 4 years ago

Text

And also, for @trashy-artist-here because you prompted something similar. I hope you both like this!!💕

On AO3

The building they're visiting this time isn't such a scary place in Shane's opinion, but then again, anything they have visited so far was tipping towards the gross, dusty, and way too old end of the scale rather than the spooky one.

Sure, it's a long-closed down prison. And sure, the may have tortured and treated the people there like absolute garbage back in the '30s but it's more heartbreaking than anything in Shane's opinion.

But of course, Ryan doesn't think so, he gets lost in his head, psyching himself up, until every shadow, every little scratching sound is making the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Not that Shane was looking at Ryan's neck. (Alright, maybe he was looking a little.)

The point is, he's jumpy as all hell, and Shane finds it terribly amusing as always. His shoe scrapes over some debris, and the sound is ear piercing in the quiet, bouncing off of the bare walls.

Ryan cries out, his whole body jerks and Shane can't help himself, he throws his head back, letting out a surprised laugh, although he may feel a little bad about it.

"You're such a piece of shit, Shane!" Ryan groans and Shane loves the way his face heats up, from embarrassment. "I bet you did that on purpose, stop freaking me out, jackass!"

"Stop freaking out then!" Shane wheezes, and pats Ryan on the back, he lets out a little snort when Ryan flinches again, just slightly.

"You're as tense as a stick, man. Or like the stick is stuck up your ass."

"Shane! Fucking can't you just—" Ryan cuts himself off abruptly and he freezes. It's enough for Shane's smile to fall too and morph into actual concern.

He looks in the direction Ryan is staring at, but all he sees is a bunch of dust flying everywhere like someone just rushed through the hallway that's across the one they're standing in.

Huh.

Maybe someone left a window open, his brain supplies. Yeah, that must be it. And that's the simple thought process that goes through Shane's head every time something "unexplainable" happens.

His brain explains it perfectly well.

Ryan's, on the other hand, it seemed to shut down and reboot again.

"Dude, did you see that?" He asks and Shane would laugh at the fact that they're slowly becoming one of those fake ghost hunters on TV. If only Ryan wouldn't look so genuinely terrified.

"It was a guy, he looked like a doctor. He was— he was fucking terrifying. Holy shit I hope the chest cam—" he starts fidgeting with it right away, and Shane takes note of how much his hand is shaking. "It must've recorded it, right? He was fucking covered in blood, please tell me you saw it! Shane!"

The rushed and panicked sound of his name snaps Shane out if his thoughts and he's reaching forward without thinking. His hands land on Ryan's shoulders, gently squeezing.

Shane feels how tense his muscles are under his fingertips but for once he doesn't think about what else those muscles could do with him. He tucks that away for later when it's less inappropriate.

"I didn't see anything Ryan, calm down," he says gently and that definitely doesn't have the desired effect. But Shane's stupid mouth keeps running because of course he never knows when to shut the hell up. "It must've been just—"

"No, shut up! You always fucking do this," Ryan interrupts him abruptly and the words die in Shane's throat. "Don't try to explain it away, I know— I know what I saw, I'm not crazy, Shane."

His voice cracks and Shane realizes he damn stepped in it now. He needs to fix this as soon as possible.

"Hey, I believe, you, of course, I do. But you need to breathe, alright?" He tries and Ryan snorts like he doubts that. Like he doubts Shane would ever see eye to eye with him on the subject of ghosts.

"Tell me that you consider the possibility of it being a ghost then," Ryan asks and Shane wonders when things went so wrong. Was he really such an asshole about the whole ghost stuff?

He must be quiet for too long because Ryan shakes his head slightly.

"Whatever let's just go back to the crew," Ryan says quietly, and he looks so disappointed, Shane wants to slap himself for being such an idiot. Before he could say something, however, there is a set of loud footsteps coming from behind them.

Like someone is running towards them.

Shane spins around, but he doesn't see anything, and he gets distracted anyway because Ryan's loud yelp drowns out the last of the footsteps.

Moments later, a solid body is pressing against Shane's, and he needs a few seconds to process that it's Ryan's.

Normally, he would find it funny, the fact that Ryan is trying to climb him like a fucking tree. But he's not laughing now, because the warm, firm press of Ryan's muscles sends his heart flying up to his throat.

Ryan's arms wound around Shane's waist, and their bodies are lined up from knee to shoulders, with Ryan's face buried into the dip of Shane's shoulder. And Shane feels very hot all of a sudden.

He does wrap his arms around Ryan's shoulders when his brain comes back online again, and Ryan lets out a soft little laugh, breathing right into Shane's neck. It does not help whatsoever.

"I'm sorry. That scared me so fucking much, I think I physically can't move."

"Hey, it's okay. I'm here alright?" Shane asks, voice nothing but a scratchy whisper. He's proud he could get that out at the very least and extremely grateful for Ryan's face being tucked into his shoulder because Shane would surely die from embarrassment if Ryan would notice how red he has gotten.

"I know," Ryan laughs, it's a shaky sound, and Shane's hold tightens around him instinctively. They stand there for a heartbeat or two in a tangle of limbs, before Ryan starts slowly extracting himself from the hug.

Shane thinks that's that. They had a nice little moment of comfort and they'll never talk about it again, right? It's how they seemed to do things lately. Get sappy and tender and never speak of it again.

Well, Ryan had something else in mind entirely.

He doesn't go too far, and before Shane could realize that, he's already reaching up, having to stand on his tippy toes to effectively bury his fingers into Shane's hair. And then he tugs.

He tugs Shane all the way down to his eye level and when their lips meet in long, undoubtedly sloppy but fucking wonderful kiss, Shane thinks he might just be possessed or dreaming or both.

The kiss is a mess of tongues and teeth and Shane's back is dangerously close to cramping and he can't fucking breathe.

And yet, he still dives back for more and an embarrassingly whiny sound founds its way out from the back of his throat when Ryan's fingers tighten in his hair briefly.

They're both trying to catch their breath when they finally pull away and Shane is glad he's not the only one affected.

The sight of Ryan's flushed cheeks and kiss bitten lips, not to mention how dark his eyes appear to be even in the shitty lighting of the hallway.

That sight alone almost gets him to start kissing Ryan again but Shane can muster up some sort of self-control eventually.

Another make out session might be what they want right now, but it's most certainly not what they need.

The kiss doesn't get talked about, not even when they arrive back at their shared hotel room and take their respective showers to wash off the grime of the ancient building.

They exchange nothing more but quiet words about Unsolved, the shoot, about Watcher. Shane glances over at Ryan, watches him text their friends, and then stare at his chest camera — now discarded on top of Ryan's suitcase — like it personally offended him.

"Are you thinking about looking at the footage?" Shane asks, and Ryan is seemingly grateful he didn't have to be the one to break the awkward silence.

"Yeah, maybe," Ryan hums and then looks away with a sigh, right at Shane, unfortunately. Shane squirms under his gaze, slightly, but probably just enough for Ryan to notice. "I don't want to deal with it right now. I'm exhausted, this was just too much for today.

Shane only lets out a little noise of agreement, and he wonders if what they had done was too much, if Ryan has meant to include that also.

"Do you want to, maybe...?" Ryan trails off, nodding towards his bed and probably hoping that Shane will get what he means.

And well, Shane can be infuriatingly oblivious, but this, he understands. His mouth feels paper dry when he speaks. "Yeah, sure."

He stands, rubbing a hand down his face because he doesn't know what to do with them otherwise. He's already dressed in his pajamas — they both are, actually — soft sweatpants and worn-out cotton shirts; so it's not difficult to grab his pillow and climb into Ryan's bed, right next to him.

And that's when trouble begins because Ryan is taking his shirt off and Shane's heart surges so hard in his chest he almost thinks it will fall right out. Is it not enough to have to sleep with the possibly not-so-unrequited love of his life, but he has to be shirtless too?

Shane got cursed by whatever was or wasn't at that damn place he's sure of it.

"Uhh, if you mind I can put it back on," Ryan tells him because Shane had been staring like it's nobody's business.

"No, no you're fine. I mean it's fine." Shane chokes out and he's a little bit mad at himself for getting so flustered when it comes to guys he thinks are cute. Especially when it's Ryan.

Luckily, Ryan laughs, and even if it's kind of annoying, Shane happily takes that over the awkwardness.

Shane speaks, quietly, after they turned the lights off, and got under the covers. The bed is fairly small, so Shane really had to huddle more close to Ryan than what they would've been comfortable with years ago.

"For the record, I don't think you're crazy."

"Well, that's good to know." Ryan laughs softly, but there is an uncomfortable undertone to it and Shane doesn't like it one bit.

"I'm serious, Ryan. I might not have the opinion it was a ghost, but you know I'd never think you're crazy. And if you think I would, well— I'm a shitty friend then, and I'm sorry about that."

"No, you're not, Shane. I think I'm just insecure. It's a whole other issue." Ryan admits and Shane is too curious for his own good.

"What other issue?"

"Do you think we should talk about what happened in the prison?" Ryan asks instead, not even being subtle about changing the subject and Shane decides to let it go for now.

"The kiss?"

"No, the fucking ghost— yeah the kiss, dude!" Ryan scoffs, and Shane has no brain to mouth filter apparently.

"It wasn't a ghost—"

"Shane, don't fucking start this again I swear—"

"Look I'm just saying—"

"Shut up, Shane!" Ryan wheezes, because they keep talking over each other and they're being so stupid. Shane wheezes with him and he suddenly feels like being bold. It's dark and Ryan can't see him too well, so fuck it.

"Shut me up then."

There is a beat of silence and then the rustling of sheets as Ryan is sliding closer to press his mouth hotly over Shane's again. Shane's hands find their way up on Ryan's back and there is a slight tremble to the movement when Ryan swipes his tongue over his. Shane is almost dizzy with it all, the available skin he's allowed to touch now, the smell of Ryan's shower gel. He almost feels like he's dreaming.

"We really should be talking about this," Ryan murmurs muffled by Shane's lips, minutes or hours later, none of them truly know at this point.

"S'fine, nothing to talk about." Shane rasps, trying to tug him back into another mind-melting kiss but Ryan snorts against his lips and it should be a little gross but Shane adores him too much to care.

"Shane, come on, we gotta. We're adults." Ryan reasons and nips at Shane's chin as he kisses his way down from his lips.

"Fuck being an adult," Shane scoffs but pulls away just enough to take in Ryan's flushed cheeks and bright eyes. And that smile, the sunshine smile Shane loves the most.

"Hard same but seriously. Is this just a hookup? What are we doing?" Ryan asks sheepishly and he looks so open, Shane wants to hide, to avoid being as open as Ryan is with him. Because ghosts might not spook him, but emotional vulnerability sure fucking does.

He has nowhere to hide though, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe if he throws all caution to the wind, things might turn out okay. He does it all the time, he did it when he agreed to do Unsolved with Ryan, and he did it when they were making Watcher.

"I really like you, Ryan. I don't know how not to sound like a teenager when I say this, but— well it's true." Shane says eventually, forcing himself to keep eye contact as his hold tightens in the fabric of Ryan's shirt. This is just about the most difficult thing he's ever done and look at him, he's powering through it like a champ.

"How about breaking the rules we established in the podcast and say I love you? What do you say to that, big guy?" Ryan suggests, softly, and Shane gladly watches the fear and anxiety dissolve from his eyes when he answers. They're both taking leaps of fate today it seems like.

"Fuck the rules, also."

Shane flips them over, making Ryan laugh and let out an exaggerated oof sound and then he's kissing Ryan again, Shane murmuring I love you back against Ryan's lips.

#shyan #skeptic believer #shyan fic #shyan fanfiction #fanfictions #prompt fill #prompt #i wanted to answer this as an ask but i broke it with the read more #thanks tumblr #trashy-artist-here

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imaginetrahs · 5 years ago

Text

III

You say you want love, babe

You said you can give it to me just how I, I need

And you think of roses and daisies

And I think of passion and fire like Hades

You say all the time, peace and quiet

But for my love, I need a riot, a riot

- Summer Walker, Riot

Nalani

"I miss you Nola."

How do I even respond to that. I can't even respond to that. After everything he's done and said about me and what he put me through, I can't just take him back.

Conflicted. That's what I am, I'm conflicted. How do you forgive someone that isn't really sorry? You don't, so I didn't. I got up and walked to my car, I didn't care for anything else Noah had to say.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going home. This was a mistake, I should've stayed home." Grabbing my keys out of my jacket pocket I unlocked my car. Noah grabbed my arm to stop me from getting in and shut the door back.

"Why are you leaving? I thought we were good?"

He must be out of his rabid ass mind to think we were actually 'good'. We were far from good, we're terrible, horrible even. Nothing will ever be the same between us and I don't understand why he doesn't understand that.

"It's gonna take more than a 'I miss you' for us to be good Noah! Do you understand what you did? Do you know how embarrassing and hurtful it is to go on social media and see people bashing me about a situation they know NOTHING about?" At this point I didn't care what time it was or how loud I was being. He need to understand my pain, he needed to feel it.

"I never meant for this to happen to you Nalani, but how do you think I feel? I helped you get this 'dream' you so very much wanted and I didn't even get so much as a thank you." Noah was fuming but so was I.

Third person

Nalani was beyond angry. There were many things that Nalani didn't put up with, stupidity was one of them. Noah was being majorly stupid right now and she couldn't understand why he thought she was supposed to feel any sympathy for him.

Now that she thought hard about it, she didn't think he was sorry at all. Maybe this was set up to make him look better, maybe he wanted her to continue to look like the bad guy.

"You want me to feel sorry for you? Are you dumb, or dumb Noah? Like really!" She threw her arms up and let them fall back to her side. "Are you even really sorry or is this to make you look better, because you seemed pretty set on what you said. And I'll be damned if you make me out to be the bad guy."

Noah never thought he'd be here in this situation. He no one to blame but himself if we're being honest. All of this could've been avoided if he would've kept his, very much unpopular, opinion to himself. But because he couldn't, here they are at almost four in the morning having a screaming match in a parking lot.

With nothing left to be said, Nalani left. For real this time, with no hesitation and no one the stop her. Noah didn't try to stop her, he let her leave, seeing as if he didn't she'd probably get physical. Their conversation was getting nowhere and it was best to leave it where it was than continue it.

The next morning Nalani woke up ready to face the world, or so she thought. When she got home that night, or rather that morning, she barely got any sleep. Tears were shed, a lot of them, and maybe 3 hours of sleep was achieved.

Kaori has class that morning so Nalani was left alone to herself for a few hours. She decided to get up and do something productive with her life instead of laying in bed and being sad. Going outside wasn't something that Nalani wanted to do today, so she settled with cleaning the house, from top to bottom.

Halfway through cleaning Nalani decided to take a break. On her phone a notification popped up from Snapchat saying she had memories from 3 years ago. She decided to look at them not really knowing what was going to pop up. The first few pictures were of her and Kaori doing best friend thing and living their best life, and then the ones with Noah started popping up.

They looked happy and they were. Noah was her number one fan aside from Kaori. Whatever Nalani did, she ran it past Noah to get a third opinion. Kaori always got asked first. But now all of that as in the past and she closed out of Snapchat, way to ruin my day, she thought.

Deciding to stop feeling sorry for herself, Nalani continued to make something to eat and then clean the kitchen afterwards. She didn't like when people would clean the kitchen and then eat instead of eating and then cleaning, it was backwards to her. Kaori did that and it absolutely drove her crazy.

Speaking of Kaori, she should be home any minute and Nalani was just going to get her to finish cleaning.

Nalani

"So basically he said he deserved some type of repayment for helping you out, after he said you didn't have to on multiple occasions?" I had just got finished telling Kaori what happened between Noah and I.

She was just as upset and confused as I was. She always told me that there was something off with him but I never really listened. I probably should have. Now we're sitting on the couch eating chicken wings that Kaori brought home and watching tv.

"Mmhm, but I'm tired of talking about him and having my life revolve around him. It seems like that's all my life has been recently, 'Noah this' and 'Noah that' but I'm done. He obviously doesn't care so neither do I."

"Period Pooh, good for you. How about this, tomorrow night we have a girls night. We'll invite the girls over and have drinks and have a nail tech come and just have fun and let loose. Honestly you deserve it and we all need it." Kaori said putting more hot sauce on her chicken. She will literally put hot sauce on anything.

That didn't sound like a bad idea. I know Kaori has been stressed lately and the other girls have been busy with their kids and lives in general so this will be good for all of us. I agreed and got up to throw my trash away with Kaori following me.

She told me about her day and how her classes went. "And then this bitch had the nerve, the audacity, to say "well he's not your man if he's texting me" and I lost it. So if the police come to the house saying there's a warrant out for my arrest tell them that I fled the country."

We laughed because it's something she always says. By now it should be very clear that people need to just stop messing with her because she is all the way with the shits.

"Girl I'm tired so I'm gonna go lay down. You comin up?"

"Yeah I'm coming." I grabbed my phone off the counter and started walking up the stairs when he doorbell rang. We both looked at the door and then each other with the same facial expression. It's almost seven o'clock at night and nobody told us they were coming over.

I went to open the door and a man in a suit was standing there.

"Nalani Barnes?"

"Yes?" He handed me a yellow envelope.

"You've been served." He said and walked away to his car.

"SERVED!?" Kaori yelled at the same time.

My night couldn't get any worse.

#black girl oc #noah centineo fanfic #noah centineo imagine #noah centineo imagines #noah centineo

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sunsiac · 6 years ago

Text

king and queen / jaehyun [2]

genre: murder mystery, romance, angst

member: jaehyun

word count: 2k

warnings: none

summary: a young prince and a knight's daughter are an unlikely pair, but nonetheless, these two were attached at the hip as children. Without any royal duty or stress, it proved to be an unexpected yet beautiful friendship. even as they grew up together, they only developed to be more inseparable. they proved this when she, hakyeong, turned 16, and he, jaehyun, gave her one of the most precious gifts he could; both of their first kisses. but it was bad timing. their respective responsibilities dawned on them quicker than they would've imagined, forcing them to grow apart. 5 years later, the both of them 21, meet again after jaehyun's older brother who is about to be crowned king is found dead. A string of murders throughout the castle force them to come together and find the one behind it before one of them is next.

—

JAEHYUN :

There was a certain point, I don't know how long ago, that I couldn't bring myself to face Hakyeong anymore. Though I can't remember my exact reasoning, I remember thinking heavily about the fear of change.

'change isn't always a bad thing,'

I was told this the first time I was denied going out to visit her. And I didn't believe them, because, well, why would I? Back then, change was the only thing standing in the way of me seeing my best friend; my secret lover.

So, for a good time, I resented change.

But, as time went on, I began to fear it. I began to fear the possibility that she had changed. I was afraid to see the girl I fell for a completely different person.

And though I knew change was inevitable in both of us, I couldn't help but be afraid. I didn't want everything we'd been through together to be swept away by all the things we'd gone through separately.

But, soon enough, she stopped trying to reach me too. We cut off all contact, and though I did regret it for a few years, I had no time to myself to act on it.

We never officially separated after that, but with the way we both acted, it obvious that it probably wasn't salvageable.

And eventually, my sadness faded. Change was another normal part of life again, and I condoned it with no extra thought. And after that, it seemed like she had done the same. We went through years of exchanging glances across the room, or small conversations when needed.

Though I could tell there were still a few things hanging in the air every time we spoke, we said nothing about it every time.

But, seeing her now, her hands to her mouth as she stared, I realised that maybe she hadn't changed as much as I thought. Her eyes were glossy as they filled quickly with fat tears. She looked completely wrecked, the sounds of her sobs reaching even where I stood.

That's when her tears began to spill, and, god, I would be lying if I said that didn't make me cry a little more too.

HAKYEONG :

I hated going through the whole next day with the feeling of tears in the back of my eyes, the risk of them spilling over growing every time I spoke. I felt too vulnerable in the unusually empty halls while I was on guard, Hyeonsik missing from the spot he usually occupied next to me.

Because of that, I felt depressingly lonely the entire day, seeing almost no one as I stood on guard constantly. All day, there was only one person that came up to me, or, more fittingly, tried to. Jaehyun was, understandably, surrounded by other guards at all hours of the day. So, when he tried to come up to me, it came as no surprise when someone held him back, telling him he shouldn't talk to someone like me. Someone that he didn't know if he could trust.

I wanted to think that he did trust me, that he knew I would never hurt Hyeonsik, much less him. But, the look in his eyes said nothing. So, I just watched as he nodded.

Though I did wish they wouldn't have stopped him. Because, at this point, I was almost aching for someone familiar, for anything to help lift my mood. But somehow, at least seeing him looking fine after everything, had undeniably lifted my spirits a little bit.

The rest of my day was bland. I had nothing else to do but wait for the sun to set, so that way someone else would come around and take my place for the night. After that, even though I wanted to, at that point I was too burnt out to do much else. So, I decided to just let the entirety of my thoughts encase me and keep me still, ending up in hours spent sitting in the courtyard outside.

It was a strange time to feel homesick, but at that moment, the red roses growing nearby reminded me strangely of the white ones in my mother's garden. God, how much I wanted to go home. Back to my own bed and even Yuta's tricks. I think I would do anything to hear his laugh right now, even if it took a few bruises or bad jokes.

But, I swallowed those thoughts and went back inside, careful to walk quickly through the dimly lit halls before falling asleep in my room in the dorms.

I was on guard for only half the time the next day, but it was still almost dark when I went back to my dorm. And thankfully, besides all the expected things, today was mostly a normal day. Except, there was something I was left to wonder about. Throughout the day, people were being pulled from their posts, returning silently around half an hour later.

It was most likely just questioning about Hyeonsik, so I didn't worry about it much. At least, not until I got a knock on my door.

I was greeted by someone I didn't recognise, a higher-up knight, I guessed. Their uniform was different than a standard knight's; being made a little stronger and a deep red rather than a dark green.

"Lee Hakyeong?"

After my parents had passed away, my adoptive mother had made the choice to let me keep my given surname instead of becoming a Nakamoto. Which, I had probably thanked her for at least one thousand times since then.

I nodded. "Is something wrong?"

His expression was a strange mix of exhaustion and alertness as he spoke, no doubt less than thrilled to say, "Please follow me,"

I should have known he wouldn't have told me.

But, I had no choice but to just follow him. It was an awkward walk, stiff as uncertainty radiated from both of us. But the thing was, I knew why I was nervous, but I didn't know why he was.

We stopped a few minutes later, in front of a door I'd no doubt passed at least a million times before. I'd never thought much about it, but walking in, I realised that maybe I should have.

Though it had the same overall structure of the rest of the castle, it also had a little-personalised flair that really made the room look beautiful. Shelves lined the walls where windows were absent, giving the room an old-fashioned charisma. There were stacks of papers strewn neatly across the desk that veered the left side of the room, and there was even a little glass sculpture of a crown laying near the edge of it.

The rest of the space on the walls was filled with paintings and maps, adding colour to the otherwise brown and gold accented room.

"Miss?"

I looked up, expecting to see the person who had brought me here, but it seemed that in the time I had been distracted they'd left. Now, I was left alone with someone that I did recognise

The royal supervisor was a relatively young man, not too young, but definitely younger than you would expect someone of his position to be. Besides a uniform that was unique to him, he wasn't really visually stimulating in any way, only otherwise adorning smooth black hair and eyes of a similar colour.

Despite his simplicity, he was a powerful man. He was in charge of almost everything the king wasn't; events, training schedules, you name it.

He walked over from his previous spot by the window, dropping what looked like a checklist on the desk before he turned to me expectantly.

"Ah," I let out a soft apology as I sat down in the chair in front of his desk.

He gave me a polite smile as he stuck out his hand. "Hello, I don't believe we've met. My name is Hyunjin,"

I took his hand, shaking it. "Hi. I'm Hakyeong, it's nice to meet you,"

He nodded, not bothering to make any other small conversation as he reached for his paper and a pen.

"I'll assume you know what happened to Sir Hyeonsik?" He asked, his eyes flitting up to meet mine.

I just nodded, looking away.

He let out a soft apology. "I'm sorry. I'm told you were close,"

I didn't know what to say to that.

He cleared his throat, seeming to handle the silence badly as he moved on almost immediately. “I only have some questions for you. So, if you would, please answer them as truthfully as possible,"

This just made me more nervous, as he was obviously just trying to ease me into whatever he was going to ask. But, I agreed as I subconsciously shifted around in my seat.

I knew there was no reason to be nervous, seeing as I really had nothing to do with what happened. But, his impending gaze as he looked at me from over the paper made me feel as I did something wrong.

"Hyeonsik has a fiancée, but you two were also close. Did you two have," he paused, giving me enough time to take in what he was saying. "Anything besides that?"

"No, god, no." I sighed out, almost repulsed as I admitted, "He was like a brother to me,"

He just nodded again, marking something down as he moved on.

"Alright. Now I'll move on to simple questions. Where were you the night when it happened?"

"I was sleeping." I answered, being completely truthful as I added, "My roommate is a chamberlain, and she had gotten back a little before then. So, she woke me up when there was noise,”

A few more pen strokes.

"You were also at the scene quickly, someone said. How?" He asked.

"I asked someone what was going on when I went into the hall," I explained. "I was there so quickly because I ran as fast as I could,"

He squinted slightly at my explanation, seeming a little skeptical, but still kept writing.

"Do you know anyone that would want to hurt him?" He asked, looking up at me expectantly.

I shook my head. "Never. He was everyone’s favourite instructor, and got along with just about everybody he came across. Everyone loved him,"

For whatever reason, he seemed to be slightly disappointed at my answer.

"Okay," he leaned back in his seat and let out a breath. "Last question. The younger prince, Jaehyun, are you close with him?"

I hesitated.

"No. We haven't spoken in months."

He rose a brow. "In months? Are you implying that you had talked more before that?"

"We used to, yes, but what does this have to do with Hyeonsik?" I asked, my brows knitting.

He didn't answer me, making what seemed like last adjustments to his paper as he said, "Thank you for your cooperation. Hopefully, with more information, we'll discover who's behind all of this,"

I didn't know what to say to that, but it seemed like at that point, he just wanted me to leave.

After that, my eyes wandered to his windows where the skies had since melted down from a faint blue to a pitch black. I wasn't exactly looking forward to walking to the dining hall alone when it was it was dark, but I was too afraid to ask for anything, just saying,

"I'm happy to help,”

—

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