#The answer is me and Amber and all my friends ocs and also of course NANCY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

laughableillusions · 9 months

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Hii, hope you doing good! ✨

Are you still doing the “Uncommon Questions for OCs” ? I’d love ask 5, 22, 24, 30 and B, F, E (is that too much??? no pressure to answer everything, of course!) for Nick and Amber!

I am still doing it!!! And I will absolutely be answering all of these questions! I just had to get to my computer bc its easier for me to like copy the question and paste it etc etc

Uncommon Questions for OCs and their creators:

5. How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

For Nick: very easy honestly, honestly you'd earn mistrust before trust anyway. Especially if you're a certain fae king (he doesn't believe a word Jareth says unless he knows Jareth is being serious). But for humankind, he's still kind of picking up the pieces that his wife left when she took off. He's open to friendships, he really is, it would just take him a long time to really open up. For Amber: She's incredibly passionate, but its hard to get her to mistrust someone. She may be rude and callous on the outside, and deny that she cares- but she does. She holds very impossible standards for the people she cares about, and even the smallest (seeming) betrayal can cause her to blow up. But within a day or two she'd forget about it. People that she does mistrust she is simply hostile to.

22. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?

Nick really isn't the jealous type, nor does he get possesive (and it drives Jareth crazy). He is very patient and understanding. Any jealousy usually just manifests in either disappointment or sadness, usually with his friends (if he isn't invited to something etc). With Jareth, he really knows how to really get under Nick's skin. And if Jareth catches Nick in a bad mood, or if he needs Jareth's support, and ignores him- Nick will seethe and seethe and seethe, both hurt and dissapointed, even though he knows Jareth is doing it on purpose- his temper flares up anyway, and he demands Jareth's attention. (which is what Jareth wanted him to do, the bastard.) Amber is very insecure, she is still grappling with the fact that her mother just tossed her aside- and also with the fact that she doesn't feel attracted to any boys at her school when her other classmates are (she's a lesbian). So she can get jealous over little things, after going through the labyrinth, she tries to be more patient- but she's very sensitive poor thing.

24. Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom?

(Answering only for Nick bc Amber is 16). Nick is very private about his sex life. As a closested bisexual man in 1988 during the AIDs crisis, he keeps that shit under wraps. Even to his closest friends who accept him, he still doesn't discuss it. With Jareth of course he does, because he's his romantic partner, but he can get a bit embarrassed or shy about some things (Jareth finds this adorable.) But besides that, he says nothing.

30. Who do they most regret meeting?

Nick regrets meeting his wife, even if she did give him Amber- if he had known it would've ended the way it did he never would've married her. But also because, when she left, he realized that he had always sort of followed her lead. He kept to himself, he cooked, he did what she told him to do...but he didn't even really love her- at least not anymore. He lived for her, and didn't really allow himself time for his own interests. Nick was the one who did most of the parenting with Amber, while his wife would treat her and buy her things. Amber doesn't like to remember things like that. And she will sometimes simply refuse to do that. Its not that she regrets meeting the people she did, but she regrets what she did to them to make them leave. Self reflection is tough when you feel like there's something wrong with you already. But what she most regrets doing is pushing Sarah down the stairs and breaking her arm. She realizes now how wrong she really was, and that Sarah is actually quite a nice girl with similar interests.

B) What inspired you to create them?

I had a really low grade fever one day like, a year and a half ago or smth, and I randomly got back into labyrinth for a second and decided i had the best idea for an oc. At first the original story was that Amber was a 6 year old girl who wished both herself and Nick away because Nick was crying about their eviction notice. I scribbled this in my notes app and then fell asleep I think. But then months later when I found that scribbling, I realized it would be funnier, if instead of a teen wishing away their younger sibling, it would be funny if it was their parent. Because Jareth would probably not be expecting an adult, and you can't really turn a 35 year old man into a goblin, so it was this kind of awkward situation. Of course, Amber and Nick took a life of their own and now I have crafted a full story. But its funny how my desire to be funny created them.

F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

A mix of pride, embarrassment, and also a feeling that they're lacking somewhat. The embarrassment simply comes from getting bullied and made fun of as a small child, and I just push through that. The want that I'm lacking is mostly due to Jareth. He's a very mysterious and layered figure that nobody has a read on, and I feel like committing to one story will shallow him out somewhat.- or the story I have shallows him out, and also that the self indulgent fluff I write is OOC or something. Also (I get this from my dad), I just have a curse where I sometimes think all that I write is terrible. Don't get me wrong though, I love Nick and Amber, they're OCs I'm quite proud of due to the fact that I'm writing their story by myself (I usually do roleplay). But I like how different they are, and how different yet similar their story is to the original Labyrinth. It's not so similar that it's a copy, but not different enough that it's not a completely different universe. It's a legacy sequel I guess.

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

Not really. Amber is very hot headed and takes things much to seriously, also I'm not in high school anymore so I'd probably tell her to just chill out (she would hate that). Nick is a lot like Loius De Point Du Lac and 16 years older than me so we wouldn't have much to talk about. I would like how creative he is, but he's got a bit of a chip on his shoulder as well and I would just feel bad for him.

#oc: Nick Cardinal #ask #ask game #oc stuff #original character #my ocs #labyrinth 1986 #jareth x reader #Jareth #oc x canon

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stevecoven · 1 year

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"talk to me about my ocs" on it, boss!!

what's Murph's relationship with the BATs, like how do they fit in?? do they get along with everyone, do they like to hang out with one of them in particular?? (if you're cool answering that, that is)

Murph worked with the BATTs for maybe ~6 months before the Day of Unity as part of the rebellion (I messed with the timeline a little bit, Steve joins at least a month before the DoU rather than a few days for plot convenience) and gets on with all of them pretty well

Katya: the reason Murph is here. One of Murph's infamous prison breaks (get arrested on purpose, get locked up in the Conformatorium, bust out of jail and free all the other prisoners in the process) was also one of Katya's several stints behind bars. She feels indebted to this stranger, who also happens to be a mad powerful witch who seems to hate everything to do with the Emperor, so when Raine tells their bards about assembling a rebellion against the DoU Katya insists on tracking down the Rustwarden and recruiting them to the cause. Murph, relieved to know they're not the only one in this fight any more, accepts right away. The two become fast friends quickly and Katya becomes Murph's confidant/emotional support buddy. She's a hopeless romantic (and a fanfic writer) so I see her getting obsessively invested in the drama between Murph and Steve, but she knows better than to get involved. Also Murph went to school with her cousin Roscoe (another OC of mine) who is a dick and they bond over teasing him too. Post-canon they get even closer and Katya is definitely Murph's girl bestie (except when Delphy is in town)

Amber: I feel like she's super easy to get on with. Definitely super nosy and asks way too many invasive questions about Murph's past, but Murph likes her enthusiasm and goofing around with her. Like Katya, Amber is super invested in the drama with Steve because she's a slut for gossip but far more meddlesome/awful at keeping her mouth shut so Murph doesn't trust her with quite as many deep secrets. Loves to braid Murph's hair when their mutated hands can't do it anymore, which is a key bonding experience for Murph. Murph has a lot of affection for her in an annoying younger sister kinda way

Derwin: he's an absolute fucking mystery. Murph can't figure out how this soft-spoken eloquent guy ended up so close with the other two but somehow it works. He doesn't ask nosy questions like the other two, to the point where Murph assumes he's just not interested in getting to know them, but he's extremely observant and picks up on all sorts of little things. Murph finds him a little strange but often enjoys his calm and collected presence compared to the hyperactive nature of the girls, and every so often he'll drop the most sage and life-changing advice you've ever heard out of nowhere

and of COURSE Steve gets adopted into this group dynamic pretty quickly too. He's excited to have new friends who think he's cool and they're all pretty trusting of him considering he's ex-EC (mainly because if they said anything mean Murph would eat them). Post-DoU they're a close friend group and regularly go out for drinks/food/movies together

#replies #the owl house #katya #amber #derwin #toh oc #murph #ask me about my ocs

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colleitheglidingchampionofsumeru · 7 months

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Please read this and thank you

^^ (NEW)

Name:Collei

Relationship:taken

Sexuality:bisexual

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What I like:Painting

Writing fanfictions (of course)

Making edits

Sunsets and sunrises

Coffee and Tea

Watching TV acting

All animals

Watching anime

Playing Genshin Inpact

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What animes I like:

Bsd/bungo stay dogs

Mha/my hero academic

P5/persona 5

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What I don't like:

Yelling

People being rude

Dark places

High placed

People hurting animals

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Youtube

Stream on twitch

Make fanfictions (of course)

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The fanfictions I do:

Bsd/bungou stay dogs

Stranger things

Shameless (a show for 18+)

Outer banks

Dsmp/dreamsmp

Genshin impact

Mha/My hero academic

P5/Persona 5

Hazbin Hotel

Silent Voice

Black Butler

Demon Slayer

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About the requests:

If it is not on the list I'll look it up the best I can

If requests are open:

Yes they are open right now

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You can request anything you like and it might be late so if you request anything it might be late sorry about that

Trainee Forest Ranger Collei, reporting for duty! I will ensure your safe passage through this forest. Oh right sorry! Hiii my name is Collei! I'm not usually busy so if any of you need anything or ask anything I'll answer! ^^ I work with Master Tighnari! I do hope we all can be great friends!

//hiiiii admin here! Don't worry I won't stop making fanfictions! I am still doing that I started doing in character for me to still upload or like post? I do youtube as well so! I'm just gonna set some rules my in character also anons are fine! ocs are fine as well Now let's get to the rules please do follow them

1. Please don't do things I'm not comfortable with

2. when I tell you to stop please stop

3. no sexual stuff- please

4. Don't start drama

admin goes by she/her and I will post if I added any new rules please do follow them ^^ cynonari and kavetham will be applied

tags:

🌻 Tighnari

⚡️Cyno

🌱 Alhaitham

🏛 Kaveh

🪴 Collei

🔥 Amber

🌻⚡️Cynonari

🌱🏛 kavetham

#about myself #what i do #rules #in character #out of character.

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angelguk · 3 years

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so much happens in this it’s such a huge mess omg. the return of the angst plot line of jock!jk (aka pretty boy universe please check ml for the other parts). this time featuring: Angst (with a capital A), miscommunication that makes you want to scream, chayoung’s true nature, namjoon catching stray bullets (figuratively), and lucas being a gem. also jungkook is somewhat semi-violent in this one (in terms of thoughts and some actions but no one gets hurt) so please don’t read this if that makes you uncomfortable. in general just an angry heartbroken boy. also oc is finally doing something good. listen to mess it up by gracie abrams + if we were made of water by banks + i will by mitksi + save room for us by tinashe. roughly 4.2k

titled — old friends, new foes

The spring scavenger hunt is an enormous success, all thanks to your careful planning and Bina’s much needed support. While you excelled at organising, you heavily lacked in the social aspect, something Bina fulfilled with smart marketing and a bright personality that drew in a larger crowd than you thought would appear. It's partially expected–she was head of the Events Committee for a reason–but it felt a little strange to lean onto her instead of Jeongguk. He was the one who usually spearheaded that side of your event plans, more than anyone else, and while planning this one you felt his absence tenfold. Like a gigantic gaping hole excavating through your chest and leaving behind a lonely hollow.

That hollowness surges when you spot him meandering towards the third location at the university courtyard, his fingers tangled with Hyeri’s. You slowly turn away from them, heart aching with each thud against your ribs, hoping they haven’t seen you. Maybe Bina sees the fall on your features because she’s gently tapping your arm, leaning in with a graceful brush of her amber locks over her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Her voice is soft, feathering through the late afternoon breeze to reach your ear.

You’re about to say it, the pained ‘I’m fine' that had become a part of your routine. But then you hear him, loud effervescent laugh hitting the air, the sound striking your false demeanour down. Your vision blurs before you could choke the word out and suddenly Bina’s arm is firmly around you, guiding your heavy feet far away from the presence evoking your pain.

“I’m fine,” you finally manage to choke up, folding into yourself in the middle of a bench. She stares at you for a moment, before taking a deep breath and sharply clicking her tongue.

“You’re not.” Her eyes are gentle despite the harshness of her words. “I know this isn’t my place, but I do know why you stopped coming to committee meetings.”

The scoff you let out is instinctive. The jarring sound is a stark contrast to the action of your hand hurriedly wiping away the stray tears staining your cheeks. Of course, you’d avoided committee meetings – why the hell would you go when the president was your ex?

“And,” Bina continues, pointedly ignoring your reaction. Her hand reaches out moving to intertwine your fingers. You focus on the image of her sharp stiletto shaped nails that glitter under the glow of the sun settling on your lap instead of the thumping of your heart as she speaks. “Judging from what I’ve seen, it hasn’t been easy for him either. I know you’re probably thinking that you were the only one who cared about him–about your relationship, but I’m pretty sure he did too. So it’s perfectly okay for you to feel like this, no matter how long it’s been.”

Two months and three weeks, you mentally add. A lifetime and a single blink simultaneously.

“I didn’t need to know that,” you say, hoping to kill the hope fluttering in your heart. Bina squeezes your hand instead and gives it wings.

“You did. Also, Jeongguk’s kind of an asshole. Sorry if it’s too soon.”

It’s not, and you can’t help the tiny laugh that escapes from your throat. You glance up at her then, suddenly glad for the dazzling glossed coated smile that greets you.

“But,” she continues. “You’re doing the wrong thing too. I know you’re dating Lucas and it’s not fair to him when you’re still hung up on Jeongguk.”

“I know,” you admit. “And I’m going to fix that.”

She beams. “I hope you do. Don’t let him make you pick the wrong choices. You deserve better than that.”

Perhaps it was her words of reassurance that aided in getting you out of the house tonight. (Or it was Bina gingerly whacking your arm and insisting you needed to reward yourself for working hard). But a minuscule part of you is glad you heeded her advice. The music is louder than the words bouncing around your head, sound shoving your sorrow down as Chayoung hands you another drink. Everything is fast, bodies shifting wildly around you and the faint sound of a beer pong game capturing everyone’s attention. For a moment, you begin to forget. But then Lucas’s looming head materializes before you and guilt swarms your heart.

“Hey,” he offers, deep timbre sinking into your bones. You might just throw up.

You haven’t told him about Namjoon. You can’t bear to. But there’s something else more urgent that you need to say to him first.

Chayoung watches through narrow eyes when he leans forward to brush a light kiss on your cheek. He’s so sweet it makes your mouth turn sour.

“Haven’t seen you around,” Lucas continues, slipping beside you. A steady hand settles at the base of your back. You almost jolt away.

Chayoung’s face is hard, expression carved out of marble as she stares you down. You know she’s mad at you, rightfully so. Even Sieun hadn’t said anything for a few days after you’d told them about Namjoon. You were mad at yourself too. For what you did–for what you need to do to fix it.

“Been busy. Planning the scavenger hunt and all,” you say, gaze glued to a random lamp at the opposite side of the room. It’s easier than staring at Lucas, who’s still so warm and bright. Practically glowing like he’s got the Sun living in his chest.

You hope you don’t leave him cloudy.

He weaves his hand into yours, a pleasant noise escaping past his lips. “I know. Great job, by the way. You should be proud.”

Chayoung slinks away at that, the glower on her features burning your blood. You haven’t told anybody yet because you don’t want their advice on this. But you do need to end things with Lucas. It wasn’t fair to him. Yet, it feels nearly impossible when you tear your eyes off the fading figure of your friend and glance up to find him staring at you with the softest smile.

All you do is hurt good people.

It’s a terrible realisation but it forces you to croak out the words, a rip forming inside of you when that soft smile slips off his face at the sound of them.

“We need to talk.”

But the second they are out you feel something in the world click into place like you’re finally making the right steps toward the correct path even though you need to step on the hearts of others to get there.

Lucas lets you lead him in silence, the weight of it sinking onto your shoulders when he closes the door behind him, the music giving way to the noise in your head. When he turns to face you, watching apprehensively as you perch yourself at the edge of the bed in the room, it all begins to feel like deja vu. Except you’re on the other side.

“So,” you start, eyes on the wall. The feeling of the mattress dipping as Lucas descends beside you pulls your gaze back to him, heartstrings thrumming when the moonlight leaking through the opened curtains pools into his eyes.

How could Jeongguk have done this?

“We need to end this,” you say, realising as the air leaves your lungs that he did it like this. Like he needed to breath. It feels like cutting an anchor off your ankle, head breaking through furious waters to finally find air.

Lucas pauses, blinking slow. You don’t fill the emptiness with more words, afraid you’ll pour salt into an open wound. He lets what you said ruminate, eyes shifting to the scene around you. A random room, bathed by the glow of the room, and two hearts opposing each other–one already poised to leave. One that was never really there.

“Why?” It’s said lowly. You know why. You owe him this admission, after dragging him around on a sinking ship. But the words refuse to part from your throat.

“I’m not right for you,” you say instead, hoping he understands. By the flicker across his eyes, he doesn’t. “Like,” you try, your eyes dropping to where his heart lies. “You’ve got a lot of good in you and I don’t. We don’t match.”

Lucas cocks his head, staring at the ceiling. And this his gaze careens to you.

“You don’t think you’re a good person?”

“Well–” you splutter. But Lucas isn’t having it.

“You’re a lovely person, Y/N. With a lot of good in you too. You are kind of shitty for this though but every good person does shitty things.” It’s said factually like he needs you to understand this.

“I know that–”

“You don’t. You put yourself down too much. Why do you think Jeongguk loved you?”

Oh. That seizes that air from your chest, Lucas’s gaze slamming into your own with a surety that stings.

“Why do you think I like you?” He adds. You don’t know what to do, nervous system spazzing at this information assault. “And I know why you want to end this. You could have said it. I understand, though. The two of you did fight together so well.” He gets up then, towering like a God dictating judgment. “I didn’t expect you to stop loving him immediately, you know.” He’s near the door now, not fleeing but parting a new path. There’s a weird smile on his lips, like the forging of his steps hurts as much yours does. It’s like it’s been hung there, not pulled from his heart like you’d grown used to seeing.

“What did you expect?” You can’t help but ask.

He pauses, the door half-open. You could tell him to shut it, you could tell him to stay.

You don’t want to.

“That maybe one day you would love me more than you loved him,” Lucas whispers. He sees the fall on your features, knows the answer on your lips instantly. “But it’s okay that you never could.”

And then he’s gone, honey blonde hair swallowed by the crowd even with his impossible height. He leaves the door ajar, the music seeping into the room. But this time your head is louder, surer. Because Lucas just let you know something you weren’t even aware of yourself. There was no room for anybody else except Jeongguk. And it truly wasn’t fair to offer him your heart when it was half a world away.

—

Half a world away is apparently glaring at the shrubs flanking the back garden. Jeongguk doesn’t know who’s house this is. He doesn’t care either because at the moment he’s considering burning it down. He’d just seen you amble into a room, Lucas trailing behind like a stupid dog and his heart clenching hard in his chest. It took two seconds after the door shut for him to shove Hyeri off his lap and mumble something about needing air.

(What he needed was you).

The coolness of the night ebbed at his boiling blood, but nothing could ease the ache.

“You look like you need a drink,” Chayoung’s voice feels alien, creeping up his back. He turns to look at her, a polite comment on how he’d like to be left alone hanging on his lips. She interrupts it by handing him a cup, a tender smile gracing her lips. Jeongguk accepts it with a shrug, hoping the burn in his throat will be a distraction. It isn’t. But he forces another sip down as Chayoung slithers outside too, the room behind her glowing as if the building was on fire.

What store sells matches and lighter fluid in the middle of the night? And won’t ask incriminating questions?

“Why the long face?” She asks, peering at him from the corner of her eye.

Jeongguk shrugs, the words in his head refusing to form into understandable sounds.

“Hyeri not cutting it?” Chayoung murmurs. His eyes snap to her, but she’s not staring at him, her gaze fixed on the dark sky.

“What do you mean?” Jeongguk is baffled say the least. He thought his act with Hyeri was a little bit more solid proof. He liked her–somewhat.

Chayoung turns slow, almost sinisterly, a glint in her brown eyes that unsettles him. “I just don’t think she’s in your league.”

The scoff that leaves Jeongguk’s throat burns. He hated that stupid idea of leagues. You should like a person for who they are, not where they stand in foolish social hierarchies. But Chayoung reads his response wrong, suddenly impossibly close, a stray finger trailing along his shoulder. Her nails are talons. He shudders, trying to hide it by leaning away. Chayoung just leans closer, alcohol tainted breath grazing his own. For a moment, Jeongguk considers fleeing back inside to come ask you to collect your drunk friend (a perfect excuse to finally say something to you after months of radio silence) but then he remembers that might potentially end with him walking into the room and finding you with Lucas’s tongue down your throat.

And that would suck. A lot.

But before he can think of another solution Chayoung’s fingernails are scrapping his neck, leaving his skin prickled.

“But then again, do you seem to always pick the wrong ones.” That bristles him and his eyes are suddenly hard and narrow.

“What do you mean by that?” He spits it out, a spark igniting in his chest when Chayoung shrugs. The smile on her face disgusts him.

“You know what I mean.” Her finger is sliding down his shirt and Jeongguk feels branded even through the material. “When you look like this, running around girls like that is honestly a little sad.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He’s hoping he’s hearing this all wrong. That she’s just drunk and acting stupid. But when her eyes lift to him he knows she means it. Every word of it.

“You could do better, Jeongguk. So much better.”

“Chayoung you need to shut the fuc–”

Her lips taste like vodka and cherry lip balm, which is sickening because that’s what you taste like–sans the vodka. Cherry lip balm was your brand. It always was, you’ve got like five of them scattered around your room and a couple more hidden in Jeongguk’s. He recoils instantly, acid climbing up his throat as his hands find something–anything to push away. What he finds are Chayoung’s shoulders and when he pushes he pushes hard. They break apart and the floor beneath Jeongguk cracks wide open, his head spinning violently.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He doesn’t know what else to say, the circuits in his brain frying. Chayoung’s tongue skips over her lips, now wet and a little plush from the force she used to slam her mouth into his.

“Showing you that you can do better.”

He blinks, taken a large step back when Chayoung moves forward, a little sway in her feet.

“You’re drunk and acting crazy. I think I should call Y/N to com–”

“Oh fuck Y/N. Such a whiny bitch. Do you really think she deserves you? After all the shit she’s put you through?” Chayoung’s eyes feel like knives, sharp and striking deep with every word.

“Aren't you her friend? What the hell is wrong with you?” Jeongguk needs this to de-escalate. Chayoung wants to throw gasoline on an open flame instead.

“No–what’s wrong with you, Jeongguk? Moping around for a girl who never realised what she had when it was right in front of her? C’mon now.”

“You seriously need to shut the fuck up. You’re not gonna talk about her like that in front of me.”

“Why not? Cause you still love her? Even when she’s fucking Lucas?”

That stings, his heart bursting in his chest because Jeongguk didn’t know you were sleeping with him. He thought it would just be kisses or something. Not that–not Lucas touching you like he used to. But then Hyeri’s face flashes in before his eyes and he wilts. He can’t blame you for anything, not when he’s been doing the same horrible shit to you. And that makes him pause, the sudden realisation that he’s been hurting you smashing into his head. He didn’t want to hurt you–never. Not even if you were hurting him. He just needed a distraction, something to ease you off his mind. And maybe you did too, but all left you both with was gaping wounds that would never heal. And with other people hurt too.

God, this was a mess. And it dawns on Jeongguk that’s he’s made the worst mistake he’s ever made in his life.

“You should hate her,” Chayoung continues, venomous.

“I don’t,” Jeongguk returns, voice levelled. All he hates right now is himself. And Lucas (which is fair). Chayoung blanches, shaken by his firmness. “I really don’t, in fact, I need to talk to her. Right now.”

He moves fast, foot already past the threshold when Chayoung speaks again, her words aimed with intent to kill.

“She kissed Namjoon.”

He feels the nerves in his legs still instantly, before they nearly give way entirely, his grip on the door frame the only thing holding him up as his heart tears out of his chest.

“I thought you should know,” Chayoung adds. And he hears it then, that vile smugness in her voice. She’s lying. She has to be. You wouldn’t do that to him. And he says that, storming back to Chayoung with his chest ripped open, his body thrumming with barely concealed rage. And fear. Jeongguk feels so scared right now because if you did that means everything he felt–everything he feared–could be true.

“She did.” Chayoung is immovable, standing tall and staring him down. “I’m not lying to you. Go ask Namjoon if you don’t believe me.”

Which, Jeongguk realises as his eyes fall shut that is going to absolutely do. And possibly break a nose in the process. He turns, trying to blink away the blurriness in his eyes, before Chayoung stops him with a single sentence again, this one said a little softer.

“Jeongguk,” she starts, eyeing him down, her brown eyes aflame under the moonlight. “I mean it when I say she doesn’t deserve you.”

—

Someone is attempting to break down Namjoon’s door. Which is bizarre considering it’s almost three in the morning. He has to drag himself out of the comfort of his warm sheets to figure out which maniac is attempting to smash through solid wood with only their fists because it seems like they’re almost succeeding.

The maniac in question is Jeon Jeongguk, standing rigid when Namjoon swings the door open, moonlight bleeding over his features. He’s mad, staring at Namjoon like he wished his head was rolling on the ground instead of stationed square on his shoulders. But there’s something else there, doe eyes glossy.

“Jeongguk? What the hell are–”

“You kissed her.”

Everything stills, the two men fixated on each other. Jeongguk is so still he could have been mistaken for a statue. Almost as if he was waiting for the words that would break this moment, ease the tension seizing his muscles, tell him what he wants to hear. Namjoon can’t do any of that. Instead, he sighs, a muted, “Oh”, floating from his lips.

Jeongguk snaps the second he realises it’s true.

“Oh? You kissed her and all you have to say is oh?” Hands are digging into the soft cotton of his nightshirt and Namjoon’s feet are no longer on the ground. He’s apparently levitating, lifted solely by this hurt angry boy invading his apartment. His back hits the nearest wall with a thud that vibrates through his bones. When the hell did Jeongguk get this strong?”

“Whoa–relax,” Namjoon wheezes, his strong fingers guiding Jeongguk off him. But heartbreak tends to be enough fuel because Jeongguk pushes back with an ease that unnerves him. “Jeongguk, you seriously need to relax. Let go of me and we can talk about this.”

“Why did you do it?” That is what he gets in return. Jeongguk’s voice wavers, coloured a violent red in the velvet of the night.

“I didn’t do anything,” Namjoon returns, the words delivered gingerly.

“No–no you did. You kissed her. You–”

“She kissed me, Jeongguk. And I can seriously explain all of it if you just relaxed and we talked about it–”

“No, she didn’t. She wouldn’t do that to me–she wouldn’t.” And Oh God No, Namjoon thinks he just heard the sound of a heart breaking. It sounds like a weird mangled bird collapsing from the sky and its wing hitting the ground with a funny wet smash, fragile bones snapping like twigs.

Jeongguk’s fingers peel from his shirt and bury themselves in his hair, yanking at the cropped strands as his face twists.

This is far too much emotion for a single person to deal with in the middle of the bloody night.

“Hey–hey, calm down. It was a mistake, I promise you. She was just feeling a little all over the place and made a bad choice–”

“No–that’s the fucking point! She made a choice. She chose you.” Jeongguk’s staring at him in a way that hurts, like he’s attempting to transfer all the pain that’s writhing through his body into Namjoon’s from sight alone.

“What? What are you talking about?”

Jeongguk is frantic, almost like he’s trying to stop himself from pouring out onto the floor. A flood barely contained. “She chose you first. I was there–I was always there. But then you waltzed in and she saw something in you that she didn’t find in me and she chose you.”

Namjoon cocks his head, staring hard at Jeongguk’s round wide eyes, slowly coming to realisations that he was surrounded by idiotic people.

“I still have no idea what you are talking about, but I have to ask, don’t you remember a single thing I told you the last time we spoke about Y/N? You’re the reason we broke up.” That halts him and Namjoon takes that as a moment to press onward, somewhat tired of being dragged into this awkward mess. “And I’ll say this in the nicest way possible but you’re an idiot if you think Y/N wouldn’t pick you over me any day–over anyone really. I could be drowning and you could have a scrapped knee and she’d check on you first. We broke up because I realised I was just a placeholder until she felt brave enough to tell you she liked you. You were rather intimidating for her to approach. Or have you forgotten your track record of girls? It wasn’t easy for her–especially when she was risking losing her best friend.”

The silence that follows aches, Jeongguk’s eyes flashing like he never considered that in the first place.

“But why the other guys then? Why not just tell me after you?”

Namjoon’s going to bang his head into the wall. “You’re her best friend–what about that are you not getting? What if you didn’t like her back and it ruined the most important relationship in her life?”

“But I did–I always liked her.”

“No,” Namjoon nearly groans out loud. “You didn’t. If you liked her you wouldn’t have fucked Chaerin in the back of your car and then gone to report it to Y/N with a grin on your face.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon returns. “Oh. That’s the exact day we broke up too. Such a stupid fight because she was crying and that’s when I put two and two together and realised I was never going to take precedence over you.”

“I didn’t know I was hurting her,” Jeongguk murmurs, almost distraught.

A strangled noise erupts from Namjoon’s throat. “You’ve hurt her a lot more than you’ll realise.” But the second he says that and Jeongguk’s face twists into something unrecognisable he wants to take them back.

“She’s too good for me. Maybe we are better off apart.”

“No, no. You’re so wrong actually. This break-up thing has been miserable to watch and I’m not even in the centre of it. I’ve just caught a bunch of stray bullets.”

“You’re not getting me,” Jeongguk’s eyes swing to him. “She came to you at the end of it all. Maybe we are better with other people. Maybe you’re better for her.”

“She came to me because she missed you. She just needed someone to lean on during your absence. I wouldn’t have to do that if you were there. You know, you should just talk about this with Y/N.”

“I can’t, she’s happy with Lucas. I think.”

Namjoon wants to bang both your heads together so bad. Maybe finally the fact that you love each other would get through your thick skulls then.

“She doesn’t,” he says, instead. “And I know that for a fact. You should really go talk to her. Figure this whole mess out. And also finally get out of my apartment.” Jeongguk’s gaze withers. Namjoon shrugs in return. “It’s the middle of the night and I have a meeting in the morning. I really need to sleep.”

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.” He’s so meek like this, nursing a shattered heart and a confused head. It’s slightly jarring to the image he usually presents, so self-assured and unfazed by whatever gets thrown at him. Never exposed like this, every emotion he holds inside displayed across his face.

“It’s alright. Just think about what I said and talk to her. Honestly. Not skirting over shit like the two of you tend to do. Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, trailing towards the open door. Namjoon had registered a breeze billowing in, but he’d completely missed the fact that the door of his apartment was swung wide open. Jeongguk abruptly stops just as Namjoon’s sense of bearing returns, turning to face him with his face pulled down by shame. “I’m really sorry. For this whole thing. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that I was just–”

“I get it. You love her and it feels like she’s slipping from your fingers. Just don’t do that shit again and stop trying to push her away. I’ll say it again–you were always her first choice.” He sees it then, a slight flutter through Jeongguk’s chest. A broken bird mending.

“Yeah,” Jeongguk breathes. “Thanks.”

Namjoon sighs, offering a tight smile and shutting the door firmly when Jeongguk finally drifts out. He needs a drink before he hits the sheets again. A strong one.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bts x reader #jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook scenarios #i hope this redeems jj!jk in your eyes #i might rewrite this who knows

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just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi · 3 years

Text

Found - Rudy, Mason, and Clyde

The end! Of the arc! Whooo this has been fun! Thanks to all who read. (i'm not down with them as oc's but this arc is over.)

TW: whumper as caretaker, stressed whumper/caretaker, distant whumper/caretaker, drugging tw, implied changing of clothes, implied bathing,

[Masterlist] [Stalker Arc Tag]

Mason was sitting at his desk, vigorously typing an email to the support of every social media platform he could. They weren’t giving him anything, even though he knew that they had the information. They must - companies are always doing shit like that. Tracking. Monitoring. They knew who this creep was and they were protecting them.

At this point, he was ready to get his lawyer involved if he got yet another generic-reply email.

Clyde was curled under his desk. He hadn’t done that in years, not since he was new and very attached to his new Master. Mason trained it out of him a while ago, but something about the familiar place was safe for him right now. So, Mason allowed it.

His phone rang and he reached for it automatically. There had been a lot of calls over the last couple days, and he was nearly fed up with them.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Mason Driver?”

He took a deep breath and massaged the bridge of his nose. “It is, who is speaking?”

“Hi this is Amber from the Lakefield Pet Shelter? We have your pet here-”

Mason stood quickly, accidentally kicking Clyde in the process. “Ah, fuck, sorry bud. Is he okay? Who brought him in? Is he hurt? Where is Lakefield I want to come pick him up-”

“Sir, sir, please slow down. He’s okay, he’s got a sprained ankle and is a little roughed up in general, but he’s okay. You can come pick him up at any time, someone from the local department already came and spoke to him.”

A strange sense of anger swelled in him for a moment that someone questioned his pet without him there, but he shoved it away quickly. Other things to focus on, other things he had to do. The woman was still talking but Mason was distracted looking for his keys.

“Can I pick him up tonight? Now?”

There was a small pause. “Yes, Mr. Driver, you can come get him tonight.” After a couple other bits of information, Mason left the house to go get his pet.

Clyde crawled out from under the desk, rubbing his sore hand, a bit confused but hopeful he was understanding half the conversation correctly.

The first thing Mason felt when he saw Rudy hobble out to meet him was relief. Relief that he was back, he was safe, that he was here. Then it was anger. Anger and resentment at the brace around the boy’s ankle, the wraps around his wrists and neck, the bandaids on his face. He had to force his face to remain happy and neutral when he saw the bruise on Rudy’s temple.

“Master!” he cried, nearly falling into the kneeling man’s arms. Mason held him close, arms wrapped around.

“Rudy, thank fucking god you’re okay. I was so worried, oh my god. When I find out who took you I’m gonna-”

“Y-you, you know him, Master,” came Rudy’s muffled voice and Mason pulled him away, held tight by his shoulders.

“What?! Who, who the hell would do that? Someone that I know?”

“It was C-Casey, Master.”

Mason’s face grew grave, clenching his teeth. He should have fucking known. Of course, of fucking course Casey would pull some shit like this. Obviously Mason had called out of work, didn’t care what was going on back at the office during the few days Rudy was gone.

Rudy whimpered and Mason released his right grip. “Oh, I’m sorry Sweetheart. God, that fucking snake. I’m going to ruin his whole goddamn life, just wait and see if I don’t completely blacklist him. He’ll never fucking work with pets again.”

“Sir,” hinted one of the workers, reminding Mason of the other people in the lobby. He didn’t care.

“Come on, let's get you out of here.”

The worker nodded and gestured for them to come up to the counter. “He’s ready to go, just need to go over some paperwork and at home care for the other injuries.”

Rudy pressed himself into Mason side as the man’s brow furrowed. “Other injuries? What happened?”

“He’s a little bit dehydrated, but that should go away in a day or two. The bandages around his wrists and neck are to keep him at scratching at the healing skin, so you’ll need to keep those and on use this ointment that’s listed here. Same for the welts on his back. His ankle is sprained but not too badly, so follow up with your regular provider for that. Other than that, you’re good to go.”

Mason swallowed and signed the forms without another word, not trusting himself to say something he’d regret. Besides, it wasn’t their fault.

On the way out, he was already calling his lawyer to get every medical expense taken out of Casey - money or blood.

Clyde was at the door, bouncing at his heels as the key turned. He had been looking out the window, saw when they pulled up. Saw when Rudy got out of the car! He was limping but he was there. He was home.

The older pet nearly knocked him over as they came through the door. Mason had to grab him by the back of his collar to drag him off.

“Clyde! Back! You know better what the hell,” Mason muttered, setting him down on the ground a foot or two away. Clyde looked up at him, clearly wanting to go back to Rudy. Mason rubbed his temples, too tired and frustrated and betrayed to deal with this.

“Room.”

Both boys whimpered, Rudy tugging on the hem of Mason’s shirt to silently plead him not to. “Now, Clyde. He’s fine. Just go upstairs so you’re not underfoot.”

Clyde gave him such wide, hurt, miserable eyes that Mason nearly took it all back. He sighed, but held firm. He said what he said and Clyde needed to obey that. With another glance back at his friend. Clyde crept up the stairs. Rudy whined after him over Mason's shoulder as the man picked him up and carried him to the living room to set him on the couch.

The boy whimpered as Mason walked away, but quieted after a shush.

Mason stood in the kitchen, holding onto the counter and stared at the tile backsplash. Why was this so hard? Rudy was back, he was going to be fine, the police found Casey and his lawyer said his case was good over the phone. He shouldn’t feel so tense, so tight-wound and anxious. The boy was right out there - why couldn’t Mason accept it?

He rubbed a hand across his short stubble and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, along with a drink for Rudy. He just needed time, he guessed. Needed to sleep, and probably eat something, and he’d calm down. Meandering back into the living room, he texted his boss that he was taking some personal time off.

Rudy was curled up on against the armrest, tears bright in his eyes. Mason regretted snapping at him, at both of them, but it would pass. They probably wouldn’t even remember tomorrow.

“Hey bud, drink up. How are you feeling, are you hurting?” He asked as he opened the lid for him.

The boy grabbed the bottle and took a sip, nodding slowly. “I, I’m okay.” His lip was quivering, breath shallow and shaky.

“I missed you,” he confessed as he broke, reaching up for Mason who immediately sat down with him. “I m-missed you s-so much, and Clyde, and h-home, I wanted to get away. I was so scared and c-confused and he was mean and hurt me and-”

Mason shushed him gently, pulling him close and petting his hair. “I know, I know Sweetheart. I’m so sorry that happened - I promise, it will never happen again.”

“He wrote on m-my, my scan-y thing,” Rudy said, itching at the side of his shirt. “And, and he took my collar and made me wear a muzzle that cut my mouth and I didn’t eat because- because I just couldn’t and-”

Mason shushed him again, and this time took his drink so he could really lay the boy down. Poor thing was spiraling, clearly over-stressed and exhausted too. “Shh, Rudy, you need to relax. You’re okay.”

“-he, he made me so confused, Master,” Rudy continued, seemingly unable to stop confessing everything that had happened. “I-I know I belonged to you, because, because of m-my collar and my chip but he made me wear his collar and I started to get confused and forget and uh, hng, I, I think I might have called him Master once and I’m sorry! He wasn’t always bad and one time he pet my hair and I tried to struggle but I didn’t that time and I’m sorry.”

“Okay, okay woah bud you need to slow down. You’re okay, you don’t have to talk about all this right now. I know, I know.” A pause as Mason thought. “Do I need to get something to calm you down?”

“I think I was bad?” Rudy started again, rubbing his eyes and hiccuping. He wasn’t listening to what Mason was saying, which was a kind of answer in itself. He was just more convinced of his choice as when he stood, the boy kept muttering confessions to himself. He’d have to re-visit some training in the next couple days, he reconned, just to correct some thoughts that asshole had implanted.

Rudy took the pill unusually well, words petering out until he was quiet. Mason rubbed his head just the way he knew the boy loved, listening to the unconscious hums of contentment.

“Lets get you to bed early tonight, hm? We’ll deal with all this in the morning.”

He seemed much heavier, now that he was out of it. Mason still got him upstairs, sat him on the bathroom counter to clean him up a little. It also gave him a better chance to see Rudy’s injuries without the boy wiggling and squirming everywhere.

It made his blood boil.

He had seen worse, he had definitely seen worse just walking down the street but that didn’t fucking matter. Rudy was his, and he had not given permission for someone to treat his pet like this. The muzzle had clearly been too tight, chafing and rubbing the sides of his face raw. Same for the collar, and the scratch marks from where Rudy had been clearly trying to get it off. Bruises on his hands and knees, what seemed like a bit of blood in his hair.

Mason cleaned him up the best he could, until the only proof left visible were the bandages and bandaids. He changed those, too, to some colorful ones he had for the boys. Rudy would like those better when he was awake.

After changing him into his pajamas, Mason carried him to his own bedroom and put him on the bed. He sighed and went to go get Clyde.

Clyde was in his room, standing in his pajamas right by the door. The boy had obviously been crying, gently cradling his bruised hand. Mason picked it up carefully, examining it.

“Shit, did I do that, Bugs?” he said, convicted. Clyde didn’t really answer him, eyes glancing from him to the door repeatedly. Mason sighed with a tired smile.

“Yeah, go see him.”

In a flash the boy was gone, down the hall to be with his friend. Mason turned the light off in their room before he went to join them.

Finally, back together. As they should be.

tag: @whumpingredroses @as-a-matter-of-whump @albino-whumpee @whumpeesblog @suspicious-whumping-egg

#whump #pet whump #stalker arc: rudy and clyde #whumper as caretaker #bad caretaker #cold caretaker #drugging tw

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lovelysugawara · 3 years

Text

_Distasteful Pursuit_

Kuroo x OC Fanfiction

Plot:

Hikeji Yuna got rejected by the Team Captain of Nekoma Volleyball Club, Kuroo Tetsuro. But Yuna still tries to support him despite the annoyed look he’s giving to her. What will happen when she suddenly becomes the team’s manager?

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

You are still walking and going to gym 3. You still think about what to say to Kuroo, and if it's okay for him to see you at this hour.

Thinking about his annoyed expression makes your heart hurt a little. Though you kind of used to it. And it’s not supposed to be like this.

You heard from Ayane that high school crush should be a happy memory you’ll remember forever. But why doesn't that apply to you?

You can clearly remember how you smiled the day you realized you have a crush on Kuroo Tetsuro. But where does that smile go? Weren't you happy a few months ago?

“Yuna-chaaaaan~!!”

Bokuto pulled you out of your reverie.

You looked back and saw a running Bokuto.

“Hallo Yuna-chan!” he’s now standing in front of you.

“H-hello B-Bokuto-san,” you awkwardly smile at him.

He’s smiling so widely at you that you felt shy of him being so energetic.

“Are you going somewhere?” he asked, still so energetic as ever.

“Y-yeah, on the way to Kuroo-san.” you answered him.

“Kuroo? He’s not here. I mean he was here not too long ago. Actually, I saw him talking to Akaashi, but he suddenly walked out of the gym. Hmm,” Bokuto’s amber and questioning eyes caught your attention.

“Anyways, can I help you with anything?” Bokuto’s eager eyes are hard to resist.

“W-well, can you help me find Kuroo-san?” you politely asked him.

You then see his eyes bright like a star, “Of course, I lead the way then. Let’s find him.”

You and bokuto started walking.

***

On the other side, Kuroo is already looking at you and Bokuto. He intentionally didn’t show up to you. He actually sees you, but when he’s about to call you, Bokuto already approached you. And the rest are somehow bothersome for him.

He remembers why Akaashi approached him.

Akaashi looked at him straight in the eyes.

“It’s about your manager, Hikeji Yuna-san.”

Kuroo is a bit surprised to hear your name from Fukurodani's setter.

“What? Is there something wrong with our manager? Did she make mistakes that cause you trouble?”

Kuroo even questioned himself why he asked that. Why would he think something so negative about you? Why would he think you made a mistake like it’s the only thing you only do?

Seeing Akaashi’s doubtful reaction, it makes him feel a bit weird.

“No, she didn’t meet anyone in our time except Bokuto-san. But there’s something going on with Hikeji-san. You probably don’t know it.”

Akaashi’s serious face makes kuroo back down a bit.

“I guess she’s being hated by your team.”

What Akaashi told him, is actually true. And he knows it. Of course, one of the reasons she’s being attacked is because of him. People don’t like Yuna because of what happened before. Or did it actually happen?

“I’m only saying this and it is actually my personal opinion, I’m watching her the whole afternoon and people don’t actually talk to her.”

Kuroo didn’t answer back, he’s more shocked knowing someone outside their team noticed that.

Akaashi’s eyes didn’t leave Kuroo’s face, he’s watching every facial reaction he will show.

“Based on your reaction now, I’m guessing you somehow know it. But please don’t throw a blind-eye on this, Kuroo-san.” Akaashi finished what wanted to say.

“Excuse me,” Akaashi walks away but then suddenly stops and looks at Kuroo.

“Also, I think Bokuto-san likes her. I hope that’s fine.” Akaashi continued to walk towards the door.

What?

Is the question echoing in Kuroo's mind.

Bokuto, liking Yuna?

He can’t seem to picture you with another guy, he kind of feels irritated somehow.

But does that mean he likes you?

He shakes the idea off, of course not. He rejected you months ago, why would he do that if he likes you?

But seeing you walking with Bokuto now, clearly pisses him.

***

Then came the next morning and another set of training was on the lists.

You and other managers are busy either preparing food or watching your team’s match.

You are also busy, watching your team noting all your coaches' advice, and then writing it down in your own notebook.

Nekoma, lost to Fukurudani that morning.

As you watch Nekoma and Fukurudani’s practice game, you know something is different on Kuroo’s move. He seems stiff and unable to decide, making Kenma carry the game.

You’re a bit worried, and you wanted to ask him what is wrong. But you know he won’t pay you any attention, he won’t even bother to answer you.

You stand awkwardly far from the team as you look secretly at Kuroo. You put a bottle of water earlier beside his towel and you think it is better for him not to know it’s from you because you know Kuroo will drink it.

“You seem off,” Kenma said to Kuroo after that game.

“I’m just out of focus,” he said.

“Why?” it is clear that Kenma didn’t actually care about his reason because he continued to scroll on his phone.

“I’m just- worried,” Kuroo looked away and a bit embarrassed about his answer.

“Worried about what?” Kenma insists on his boring questions.

“About something, just don’t mind me.” kuroo just brush him off.

Kenma feels weird about his friend.

“Hey, hey, hey! Yuna-chaaaan!”

Bokuto suddenly appeared in front of you, with Akaashi following him.

“B-Bokuto-san,”

They saw you carrying an icebox. And Bokuto’s forehead creased.

“Why are you carrying that, isn't it heavy?” you can hear his voice with worry.

“U-uhm, n-no, not actually heavy. See,” you cried to carry it more but struggle to walk because it’s indeed super heavy.

As you are about to fall forward, you’re shocked when someone holds you on your waist and someone holds your hand and the icebox.

And when you see who they are, it’s actually Bokuto and Kuroo.

“Are you alright?” both the guys actually asked you the same question.

You didn’t know what to say, and you know you can answer Bokuto easily, but Kuroo is also here, and he’s holding your waist. Making you blushed.

Akaashi on the other hand sighed a little bit and decided to get the icebox from your hand, leaving the three of you unmoved.

“Seriously, are you guys planning to hold her until lunch?”

After Akaashi said those, the three of you jolted and they suddenly put away their hands.

Bokuto held his hands up, like surrendering, “I’m so sorry, Yuna-chan.” and he’s blushing like crazy.

While Kuroo, looks away and puts his right hand on his mouth. Trying to hide his embarrassment and blush at the same time.

“S-sorry,” he just said.

Actually, Kuroo saw Bokuto approach you. And he plans to snatch you away from him when suddenly the icebox almost fell, making him run to you like his life depends on it.

Maybe because if you ever fall to the ground, Bokuto might catch you first, and you’ll for sure hug him.

Did he somehow feel jealous?

He then erased that in his mind and told himself it’s impossible.

Then Mako from Shinzen High appeared. “Yuna-chan, please help us in the kitchen if you’re available.”

You didn’t actually know what happened, but you know you’re blushing. You are more shocked knowing Kuroo is also there and he did save you from falling too.

Is this even real? Does he worry about you now?

Mako noticed it too, “Are you okay?” she said.

You suddenly looked at Mako, putting aside what happened and you tried so hard to hide your flustered face..

“Y-yes, l-let’s go mako-san.” you actually push her away from the scene. Not even looking back at the two.

***

At lunch, all teams are eating at the pantry. Because Nekoma and Karasuno are a bit close, some players from their team eat together.

“OHHH, I just remember! Tora-san, you got a pretty manager!!!” Tanaka blurted out suddenly.

“Ohh, Ryuuuu is right. She’s pretty and like an angel.” Nishinoya also said.

“But of course, Kiyoko-san is still the best of all,” Tanaka made sure to emphasize that, and even nishinoya agrees.

“She’s also kind, hmm,” Hinata agrees with them.

Then suddenly, Tora laughs with Inuoka and Shibayama.

“What are you talking about? She’s pretty? She’s kind?” Tora still laughs, making Hinata and the others look at them like they have grown an extra head each.

“Yes, why?” Hinata innocently looked at them.

Tora stands up and makes a scary face, “Don’t be fooled by that witch, or she will haunt your dreams.”

The Nekoma boys just laugh at their own joke.

“Hey, that’s rude. Why are you like that?” Hinata suddenly reacts.

“But we are serious, just don’t get close to her. You don’t know why she approached you guys. She might be trying to get your attention.” Inuoka said with a serious face.

“But we just approached her this morning and she looks kind and very different from what you guys talk about,” Tanaka told them.

Then Tora, Inuoka and Shibayama looked at each other.

“Even so, just don’t approach her freely,” Tora said with warning.

***

“I still don’t understand, how can they say that?” nishinoya said as they walked outside the pantry.

“Yeah, I wonder what she does for them to think of her like that,” Tanaka said.

“But still, i don’t feel anything weird about her. She does smile so pretty.” Hinata said as he blushed.

“Heh, a rare chance for Hinata to be flustered like this.” Tanaka teased him.

They all laugh.

***

The training continues in the afternoon.

Nekoma played against Ubugawa, and they almost lost but so glad for Fukunaga securing the last hit for them.

“That was so tiring,” Kuroo helped himself with a towel. Kenma still has this tiring face because he's been playing since this morning.

“You okay, Kenma?” he asked the setter.

“Do I look okay to you? I’m tired.” Kenma exhaled.

You saw the two of them, and you approached Kuroo and Kenma holding one bottle of water.

“Kenma, here’s your water,” you said to him.

“Thank you, Hikeji-senpai.”

You smiled, and then looked at Kuroo.

Kuroo is also looking at you, but like always you can’t look at him directly in the eyes. And you blushed as you looked away.

“N-nice game, Kuroo-san.” you said and then you ran away.

Kenma shot a deathly glare at him.

“What did you do this time?” Kenma looked at Kuroo, scrutinizing him.

“I-i didn’t do anything!” Kuroo is clearly blushing as he answers Kenma.

Kenma just looked at him like Kuroo is the most irritable person in the world.

“More importantly, why didn't she give me water?” Kuroo suddenly asks.

“Well, you won’t accept anything from her, right? Maybe that’s why she doesn’t want to give yours anymore.” Kenma said as he drank the water and then smirked.

“Why? You just realized it?” Kenma teased Kuroo.

Kenma is right.

You don’t want to inconvenience Kuroo anymore. That’s why you tried to hide giving him water or towel, or anything.

Kuroo just looked at you while you talked to other managers and smiled with them.

He didn’t know why he felt light-hearted seeing you smile, and as you touch your hair with your hand, he suddenly wondered how it would feel if your hand touched and caressed his hair too. Or how would he feel if you smiled at him like that?

Like you will brighten the world with your smile.

He then suddenly shakes his head, then asked what was wrong with him. Did he bump his head somehow?

Why is he thinking about you?

Kuroo turned away from you, then suddenly heard Bokuto.

“Kurooo,” the Fukurodani’s ace approached him.

“Oh Bokuto, what is it?” He said.

Bokuto looks at him with a serious face.

“Listen, I think I like Yuna-chan.”

…

“What?” Kuroo said, and he doesn’t want to believe what Bokuto said to him at that moment.

What will he do?

Is there something he needs to do?

Will he let someone steal your smile from him?

A/N:

Heya guys! Sorry for taking so long again to update this. ^^ trying to grasp some stuff. but I hope you guys will enjoy this.

See you next week. ^^

Taglist:

@dekuspet @mkkhaikyuu @captain-eagle-art @rozesarered @kurooloves @elianetsantana @saamsstuff @seijohsangel @i-vonsnyeeoj

#kuroo testuro #kuroo fanfic #kuroo tetsuro fanfiction #kuroo x oc #kuroo tetsuro x oc #kuroo haikyuu #kuroo imagine #kuroo hq #kuroo tetsuro imagine #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu!!#haikyuu to the top #kuroo angst #angst

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min-chery · 3 years

Text

Sing me to sleep | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook / Named OC

Warnings: Side-character death / mention of suicide / arson / nightmares / description of burn injuries

A/N: This one doesn’t have a synopsis hehe. It was inspired that one scene from the Fake Love mv. Also, this one is written in Jungkook’s POV. Enjoy~~

Word count: 1.47k

I watch the steady rise and fall of her chest as the air gets drawn into her lungs in her state of sleep. A peaceful silence engulfs us save for the sounds of our mingling breaths.

My Mika, so strong in the day as she fights off her demons, now looks so vulnerable under the moonlight that shone. Like a baby, so pure and so fragile, born into the cruelty of the world.

She lies in my bed, looking as if she belonged among the still life that surrounded us. Had it not been the movement of her chest, one would have assumed she was dead.

She does not hold me in her slumber. Doesn't seek out for my comfort, even if she deep down knows she craves for it.

The stillness is so comforting that I don't feel myself falling into a slumber. But it feels as if someone pushed me into a comfortable darkness. The kind that I would never be able to escape, but I would never wish to leave either.

Frantic hands that relentlessly tug at my t-shirt yank me up from sleep. The sound of pained ragged breaths being drawn in sends my mind into a state of frenzy.

My hands hastily look through the dark for the remote that controls the air conditioner. And when it finally gets caught, I lower the temperature, sending a rush of cool air through the machine.

Mika's pleading eyes look at me, tears of frustration willing up at the corners. I see the wiggling of her toes, something I've discovered she does because she's afraid all the fear will paralyze her. Will cripple her of her physical abilities.

"Get it off, koo." She whispers helplessly. As if a task as small as getting rid of the blanket from over her body seems like a tedious job.

I free her of the layers, including the pajama shirt that stuck to her upper body like second skin from the sweat. I take her into my arms and pull her onto my lap, holding her in a loose embrace.

One hand goes into her hair, my fingernails lightly scraping at the scalp as a form of stress relief. The other holds her against my chest, right above the heart that beats painfully fast, just for her.

"It burns." She whimpers, her hands extended out towards the side.

My eyes fall on the vicious marks that marred her right arm. Starting from the back of her palm right until her elbow. The day of the incident flashes in my mind as if it had happened only yesterday.

The images of her burnt hand, the smell of her skin being toasted and crumpled from the fire that night fill me up.

I would forever hate Yoongi hyung for what he had done. Did he hate life that much to set a building on fire with himself and his girlfriend inside? Was he so hurt and angry with life to forget he held the very love of his life in the same room?

Did he, for even a second, think about us? His friends who'd been there for him at all walks of life? Me, his stepbrother, who loved him so much even if we never said it out loud?

I don't realize my fingers are roving over the damaged skin until a quiet hiss leaves Mika. The skin isn't supposed to burn anymore. Not when it's already been three years since it took its birth.

It's then I realize her mind is playing games with her. Her conscience is still hazy from the nightmare.

"How about we apply some lotion on it?" I ask her, my voice very low and gentle. I see her eyes blink slow, taking in the words I just muttered. And then she gives me a single nod.

The lotion will be cool on the skin, tricking her mind into thinking it works on the burn.

I lift myself up from our bed with my girl in my arms. Her ankles lock themselves at the base of my spine, holding herself up as we walk towards the bathroom. I set her down on the counter and open the cabinet right next to where she sits.

She lets me stand between her thighs, her legs not once removing themselves from around my torso as I pull out her favorite rose-scented lotion.

"Shall I?" I ask and she nods, giving me her hand. I know it takes her a lot to do that. The insecurities of letting someone take closer looks and touch the skin seemed to have never left her.

I smear the pale pink lotion onto her hand, rubbing it in gently with small circular motions.

I think of the night before Yoongi's death. The then weird conversation we had. He kept asking me to take care of Mika knowing very well that I loved her at the time too.

"You're not going anywhere. Why do you want me to take care of her? It's your job as the boyfriend." I had scoffed at the time. It had felt as if he was trying to rub the fact he was her boyfriend right in my face.

"I won't be here for long." he had simply stated. I was confused. All I remember afterward is overlapping voices, shouting. Me shouting at him. Him muttering 'sorry kookie' over and over again. I demanding to know what he meant.

When the very next night Mika phoned me, I knew something terrible had happened. She sobbed from the other line, pleading with me to save her and Yoongi.

I ran to his house, calling our friends to help me with whatever it was were going to be met with. His house was intact but the thick smoke coming out the window of his room had been really scary. Namjoon had yelled at us to look for fire extinguishers. Anything that would help put out a fire.

When I ran into the room, all I could see was the figure that sat on the chair. Yoongi let the fire engulf him, set him to ashes along with his mother's favorite chair. Mika was petrified, looking at him as if she wanted to save him. But she couldn't move a muscle. Couldn't feel the fire move across towards her arm.

If it hadn't been for Taehyung knocking her over and out of the room, she would've gone down in ashes too. Maybe she had wished for it to take her with Yoongi too.

I had tried so hard to pull Yoongi out of the fire. I did my best. My fate really did have other ideas. He breathed his last in my and Mika's arms.

Endless therapy sessions were all we had after that. Slowly pulling our lives back together after he left us.

Somewhere along the way, Mika started falling for me. I was beyond ecstatic. We moved in together after two years. Though life wasn't the same without him, we knew we would be fine. Because we had each other.

There still are moments she hesitates telling me she loves me. She was worried she was hurting Yoongi every time she said the words. But I know she is trying every day to be better.

"Koo." she calls for me and I hum.

"You know I love you, right?" she looks at me with trembling, pouty lips. It makes it so hard to hold back now.

I pull her in by the back of her neck and kiss her. I let my lips answer the question that words couldn't. Of course I know she does. I see it in her eyes every time they fall on me. See her pupils dilate in her amber eyes.

"I know. I love you too." she smiles the brightest I've ever seen at this.

"Should we go back to sleep, baby?" she nods childishly, making me voice out a chuckle.

"Come on then." I say, before lifting her up once again.

Once we're all settled under the blankets, Mika looks up at me from where she lies over my chest.

"Do you want to wear your shirt back on?" She shakes her head a 'no'.

"What?" I ask her when I see that she's still staring at me.

"Sing me to sleep." I am surprised to hear her say that. She's never asked me to sing before and it makes my heart soar with happiness. All this time she had been secretly enjoying me sing around the house, even though she grumbled I was too noisy.

So I let my voice wash over her senses. Comfort her aching soul to sleep.

Her body loosens over mine, falling deeper and deeper into sleep. My heart synchronises itself to the rhythm of hers.

"I love you. More than you can ever imagine."

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #btsboys #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #angst #caring for the other after a nightmare #books & libraries #bts wattpad #wattpad #wattpad writer #writers #writing

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savagesbonergarage · 4 years

Text

Nightsister OC pics and backstory ❤️

So I kinda got my Nightsister oc worked out today!

Meet Eilantha!

No makeup and with makeup since I like both. :) I know her outfit is Rey’s, but it turned out to be the one I liked best after going through all of them. This was so much fun to do! I’m on mobile rn so I don’t have a link, but search ‘rinmaru star wars avatar creator’ and it should be the first result.

The nightbrother is also an oc called Sever. He’s more bulky in my head and his tattoos are different and more brown than black, but whatevs. Also he looks more like a teenager here, which is NOT the vibe, lads. Mans is in his late 20's-early 30's. 👍

I know I’m sorta biased and all since she’s mine, but I’m in love with her? I’m not a huge fan of the Nightsisters and their misandry and general terrible-ness, but this girl is the exception. 💕 Learn more about her under the cut if you’d like. :)

She was born in 46BBY, making her around 27 in the final year of the clone wars. From the time she was a youngling it was clear that she had a natural affinity for magicks and spellcasting, which allowed her to participate in more advanced rituals and rites from an early age. This inevitably caused some contention among the sisters in her age group that felt this privilege was wasted on her, and therefore she had few friends during her time within the coven. She didn’t really mind, as she preferred to spend her days on her own anyway, learning as much as she could about whatever she fancied (usually spells that piqued her interest whose texts she discreetly snuck from within the cavern).

When she wasn’t studying, she loved music - writing, playing, and singing. It wasn’t anything like the typical malicious sounds of tribal chanting and drums you’d hear from within the grotto; not that she didn’t appreciate that also as she practiced it well, but her heart leaned toward a softer, more soothing genre of arias and melodies, bordering on lullabies based on her wanderlust, and, though she’d never admit it, her loneliness.

As she reached adulthood, she underwent the trials for her dark baptism as all Sisters did, which consisted of returning from a challenging hunt to add a token from her kill to the Water Of Life, and receiving her ichor tattoos that signified her coming-of-age before being ritualistically bathed in the ominous liquid which sanctioned her as an active member of the Nightsisters.

After this, I have two different routes (or however many, depending on who I’m shipping her with at the moment 😅 bc I ship her with everyone, no lie) that I like to take with her story. The first is expanded upon in the fic by @fallenrepublick here (still my favorite thing!) where she starts sneaking away into the nightbrother village and befriends Savage and Feral before they go through Asajj’s selection trails. This is the nicer, less-traumatic arc.

This next one gets really, really dark. I'm not going to post it all here bc honestly this post doesn't need all that angst, so I'll save that for later. Essentially, I like to think that Eilantha did at one time have a nightbrother of her own (Sever) that she actually loved, rather than treated as a slave. As you can imagine it doesn't end well, but we're not gonna get into that. We'll talk about how they meet. :)

Instead of sneaking away to the village, Eilantha is pressured into conducting her own selection trails by Mother Talzin. She doesn’t inherently have any reason to object, after all, she was taught that this is was simply the way of things. Part of her even looked forward to obtaining a manservant, whose loyalty would belong to her and her alone.

Perhaps he’d be a useful asset when it came to sneaking spelltomes to and from the vaults, and maybe he’d even be the only one staying by her side while she practiced her songs. What if he’d even appreciate them? Not that he’d have much of a choice, but the thought was comforting nonetheless.

From the moment she stepped foot in the village, all she could focus on was the feeling of the uneasy and fearful gazes of the men who undoubtedly knew more of what was to come than she did. She chose her roster at random, unsure of what she should have really been looking for or what she actually wanted from a servant. Even before the fighting, she knew deep down that she didn’t want to inflict any unnecessary harm on them…but why? From what she’d overheard at home, the violence was half the fun.

It wasn’t.

She evaded and blocked every blow with ease, yet avoided retaliating and taking the offensive in any manner that would prove fatal, causing the battle to go on far longer than anticipated to the point where Brother Viscus insisted that she take the next opening for the kill. With reluctance, the blade of her weapon collided with the ribs of the next brother to reveal himself a target. She watched in horror as the light faded from his hateful, reflective eyes, and she was nearly sick. She didn’t want to do it, but it had been done, and it couldn’t be undone. His body thudded against the ground and she screamed.

“Enough!”

The battlefield went silent, and as she came to her senses she attempted to save face.

“I’ll have none of them!”

Before Brother Viscus could interject with any alternative propositions, she was gone. She ran, fleeing as far away across the rocky terrain as she could. She didn’t cry; at least not until she was certain she was alone. She felt so pathetic - Nightbrothers were meant to be disposable, yet she couldn’t handle killing one. Her shame shifted into heartbreak, and she crouched low and wept for the death of the brother she’d just caused, as well as for all those who came before him. All the needless, thankless, mindless deaths of these men whose lives may not have mattered to the Sisters, but they mattered to someone.

As night fell, she trudged along the jagged landscape and thought of what explaination she’d give to Mother Talzin upon returning home. She had run in the opposite direction of where her speeder was stationed at the base of the village, so she had plenty of time to consider on the long journey back. She casually hummed a tune to herself in some meager attempt to self-soothe, which served to distract the shadow that had been trailing her for some time. The sound of a twig snapping in the rocks behind her alerted her to the presence and she confronted him.

"Are you lost?" she asked in a derogatory tone after he revealed himself.

"I'm not."

Of course not, this was his home, after all. She couldn't say the same for herself, however, she pressed him further.

"Then why are you following me? I never asked for an escort."

The amber-skinned nightbrother looked as though he were choosing his words carefully, though if his aim was self-preservation he'd done a terrible job of it.

"I saw you crying."

Eilantha was hit with a pang of embarrassment, though she feigned otherwise as her eyes met the ground.

"Well, you can forget what you saw. Now leave me alone."

She turned away, but the brother remained there in quiet contemplation before he spoke again.

"I've never seen a Sister cry. I've never seen a Sister feel."

Something about those words struck her directly in her heart. The confirmation that she was inherently considered to be a heartless monster in the view of these villagers hurt a little more than anticipated, though she had no right to refute it. No amount of apologies would ever remedy the divide that separated the Nightsisters from the Nightbrothers, regardless of how she felt. She clenched her fist as she turned to face him again.

“I said, leave me alone. Don’t make me-”

She actually choked on her words, unable to say the rest.

Don’t make me put you in your place.

Despite her partial warning, the nightbrother stepped closer. He grabbed the edge of his already tattered tunic and tore a piece of it off, inspecting it for cleanliness before holding it out to her. Eilantha froze, uncertain of what to make of this interaction.

“You aren’t done,” he explained.

She hadn’t realized that her hot tears continued pouring down her cheeks during her retort. She accepted the cloth with some reluctance, her dainty fingers lightly brushing against his as she took it and dabbed it against her wet face. He promptly turned and started walking away, as instructed. This strange...kindness, or rather, strange act of servitude via obligation perturbed the young witch, whose thoughts were now fixated solely on the zabrak male.

“Wait, Brother,” she implored.

He paused, resuming his attention to her after hearing the endearing use of “brother” from a Sister’s lips for the first time. She continued, an unusual softness in her tone.

“What is your name?”

“It’s Sever,” he revealed, “May I ask yours, Sister?”

She repeated his name in her mind, determined never to lose it.

“Eilantha.”

He did the same, only out loud. Gods, it was an enticing sound.

"Will you be returning?"

This was a question she wasn't prepared to receive, and one that she herself didn't fully know the answer to. Her reply was engineered from a concerned sigh.

"I'm not sure. It might be problematic returning to the coven empty-handed. I may come back, I may not. I don't know what the future holds."

Sever pursed his lips slightly.

"If you do find yourself here again, will you..."

He coughed into his fist and centered himself before continuing.

"Will you consider me?"

Her eyes shot up to meet his hopeful gaze, a golden yellow in the night. She had a hunch as to what he was alluding to, but a little clarification was needed.

"Consider you...?"

He swallowed, his countenance displaying concern that perhaps he was stepping too far out-of-bounds this time, but he wanted to know all the same.

"As your mate."

Eilantha clutched the piece of fabric in her hand. This man was offering himself to her. The images of all the nightbrothers staring her down when she first arrived with fear in their faces raced through her mind, revealing the dread the men felt when they were met with her kind, and yet this one was volunteering. She wasn't sure if she should be flattered or angry, as any other Sister likely would be at a savage that dared to seek special permissions. Of course, she wasn't like that.

Imagining him as her mate, however, was certainly...something. She thought of how she would discover just how much of him was tattooed and he would learn the same of her. She could claim him right then and there if she wanted, and he would be obliged to obey. It would solve her worries about returning home if she decided on a servant after all, although, her soul was unsteady. Though she was entitled to any male she desired, she couldn't allow herself to do it. Even though this man was offering, it would weigh on her conscience knowing that even a part of him would only be with her out of fear and obligation, rather than his own free will. This nightbrother wasn't free. None of them were.

"I'll consider it," she replied genuinely.

This news seemed to please him to some extent, a tiny smirk curling at the corner of his lip.

"I'll look forward to the possibility of serving you, Sister Eilantha."

She watched as he turned a final time and disappeared further into the darkness, leaving her alone with her busied mind.

The course was set for the Nightsister temple once she finally got to her speeder, servant-less. She looked over her shoulder to see multiple pairs of glowing golden eyes quizzically prying at her in the darkness, and she smiled before taking off.

It was a long journey home, and the entire trip her mind was occupied with thoughts of the intriguing zabrak male who saw her for what she truly was. She pulled out the tattered cloth from her pocket and pressed it against her chest as the wind rushed all around her before bringing it to her lips and kissing it.

It became her greatest treasure.

That is, until she finally had the real deal in her arms months later when the separation became too much to bear, and they arranged to meet in secret during their first rendezvous of many.

Sever, my treasure.

#Nightsister #nightbrother #star wars ocs #Eilantha x Sever #savage opress #feral opress #dathomir #maul #darth maul #mother talzin #tcw #brother viscus #oc x canon

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

Text

Male werewolf x female reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This is a patreon tier reward, and I hope you enjoy my take on their big, dad-bodded werewolf OC, Lowe. It's been up on Patreon on early release and is now up on Tumblr for you to enjoy.

Content: playful banter, fluff, the briefest flicker of angst, some dominant tendencies in Lowe (it's not D/s though, for anyone who's not into that), and a reader who gives as good as she gets. Wordcount: 2792

___

As you yanked the door to the campus cafe open with about twice as much force as it needed, you caught a glimpse of Lowe working behind the counter. Of course, there was a massive queue at this time of day; at the midpoint of the afternoon when people were thinking about either finishing up early or knuckling down for a caffeine-fuelled all-nighter.

Engrossed as he’d looked in his work before, he glanced up as if he’d sensed your presence, his warm eyes flicked briefly in your direction as the door opened, and he offered you a quick, fond, twitch of the lips before turning back to the masterpiece of latte art in his hands. Even at that distance, you felt your body relaxing a little more around him. In the time since he’d made some playfully snarky comment about your Pokémon shirt a few months ago - which had, in fact, led to a joint outing on campus playing Pokémon Go together - you and he had fallen into an easy friendship.

You tried not to snarl softly to yourself as the woman at the front of the queue, old enough to be a post-grad perhaps, leaned on the counter and flirted openly with him, but at the end of the day, what claim did you have to him anyway? Lowe was your friend, and as much as you’d like to think you might be the tall, long-haired guy’s type (he was certainly yours, with that ‘powerful-yet-soft-around-the-edges’ dad bod he had going on, and that self-assured confidence that tipped just pleasantly shy of being arrogance), you couldn’t really be sure. After all, you’d seen him getting pretty close with a guy friend of his, so for all you knew, he wasn’t even interested in women, but you’d never really discussed that. The most personal things had got so far was Bloodborne bosses and beloved DnD characters, which was also fine.

The queue slowly dwindled in front of you, and when you stepped up to the counter, Lowe turned from the machine on the far counter and plonked a large cup down before your lips had even opened to begin your order. His grin was positively wolfish, all teeth and glinting eyes.

You pouted and snapped, “And what if I wanted a chai latte with soy milk today?”

He raised one thick eyebrow as he popped the takeaway lid onto the cup with a distractingly big hand, and said flatly, “You hate soy milk. Drink up, grumpy-guts. You’ll feel better…”

You huffed, took the cup off the counter, slapped the cash down just hard enough to make him chuckle and twitch another smile - damn the bastard looked pleased with himself and double-damn, if he didn’t look extra-specially good wearing that expression - and he announced to his colleague that he was going on break.

He joined you outside, tugging out one of the heavy, metal chairs for you without a word before taking a seat on the other side of the table.

Lowe closed his eyes, tipping his head back a little to feel the chilly late-spring breeze on his face. He looked good as he relaxed like that, with his long, thick, nut-brown hair tied back off his face with a few fluffy bits escaping at the front, and his big arms folded across his chest and resting on the slight paunch he had at the waist. Something about the thick, almost russet-brown scruff on his jaw made you want to touch it. Instead, you sipped your drink and sighed.

“Good?” he asked without moving or opening his eyes.

“You know it is, you cocky little shit,” you laughed. Banter with him was always so easy, and you gave as good as you got. “Thanks, by the way. Wouldn’t want you to think I’m a complete brat…”

He snorted and cracked an eye to look at you. The sun caught in his golden-brown iris and glinted softly like polished amber, and it honestly stole your breath for a moment. “How’s the course going?” he asked instead of teasing you any more. “You were pretty stressed about that assignment last time we talked.”

You rolled your eyes and puffed the air out of your chest, swiftly following it with some inarticulate grunt of despair. “It would be going a lot better if my roommate wasn’t also being such an inconsiderate asshole,” you snarled. “Seriously, I don’t think I can take the smell of weed or the late nights any more.”

He frowned. “Can’t you talk to someone about it?”

“Have done. Not sure I’ll have a roommate for much longer though… Missing classes and being constantly stoned must equal tanking grades, right?”

Lowe nodded but didn’t say anything for a while, watching as a gnoll and her girlfriend strolled past, hand in hand. The gnoll nuzzled her nose against the human’s ear and elicited a squawk that made her giggle in return. Eventually he said, “You free this weekend?”

Cocking your head to one side, you shrugged. “Hand-in is on Friday afternoon, so… yeah? I mean, I had just planned to sleep all day… why?”

He looked uncharacteristically apprehensive and chewed on the inside of his cheek before answering. “I was going to head up into the woods for the weekend. Camping. Wondered if you wanted to come too?”

“Camping?”

“Yeah…” he said, looking like he was regretting mentioning it now. “But if you don’t want to, it’s fine. I mean… you’ve earned your rest, and camping under the stars isn’t for everyone. Don’t feel like you have -”

“Shut up for a second, will you?” you laughed, and he drew up short and blinked, staring at you before laughing fondly. “I’ve actually never been camping. I’d love to go, as long as you don’t make me go for a ten mile hike as well…”

“Would I treat you like that?” he crooned and you rolled your eyes again and muttered something which you didn’t think he’d catch. Somehow, however, he did, and he barked a loud laugh, startling a cervitaur walking past with his grocery shopping in each hand. As Lowe turned to look at the cervitaur he’d surprised, you watched his eyes flare gold, almost unnaturally so. Perhaps it was just a trick of the sunlight at this angle. When he looked back at you, you missed what he said, staring at his eyes, which were now back to their normal, warm brown.

He murmured your name, sounding a little concerned. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean it. You’re not a brat… not really…”

“Shut up,” you retorted, your tone carrying no venom. “And you know full well know I can be.”

That Thursday afternoon, your roommate moved out, finally expelled for drug use and selling to other students, and you fumigated the room as best you could, relieved at last. The second after you’d finished deep-cleaning everything, you texted Lowe and said, ‘So… I’m down a roommate now.’

‘You need me to help hide the body?’ he sent back immediately and you burst out laughing.

‘I love you, but no. It was expulsion rather than murder. I was kind of hoping you might want to move in instead?’ you sent, your heart in your mouth. He’d mentioned he was looking for a place closer to campus, and this could be perfect for him. If he was willing to have you as his roommate, of course.

‘Definitely interested. Can I think about it and let you know this weekend?’

That wasn’t a complete rebuttal, you figured. ‘Of course.’

‘Cheers. I’ll pick you up at ten on Saturday.’

True to his word, Lowe didn’t take you on a ten mile route march. He drove you up to the start of a wide, easy looking trail that was apparently only three miles up to the campsite, along a winding, inviting, grassy path. Despite looking maybe a little towards the less fit end of the scale, Lowe was four strides ahead of you in a matter of seconds. Realising this, he slowed, and you nudged him with your elbow.

“Thanks,” you said and he gave you one of his soft, secret smiles that you didn’t see very often.

He wasn’t particularly talkative as you made your way up the path, but the silence between you was easy, relaxing even.

“You’re such a cliche, you know that?” you laughed a little while later as you paused on a rock for a drink and to adjust the laces of your shoe.

Lowe scowled. “How?”

You stared pointedly at the penknife in his hand and the stick he’d picked up and had idly begun to whittle into a howling wolf in his big, strong hands, almost as if he’d not even realised he was doing it. Again, he surprised you by just shrugging a shoulder and turning back to it while you enjoyed the scene. He seemed a bit distracted somehow. When you moved on, he stashed it in his pocket.

Lowe carried literally everything, stowing your water bottle for the way up in the side pocket of his backpack, and even a two-person tent, food supplies for that evening and breakfast, and more water than you probably drank over the course of three days, and yet he still managed to arrive at the campsite as if he’d just strolled the length of one city block.

He impressed you again by lighting a fire and cooking a veritable feast for you both on a little makeshift grill, and he looked more than pleased with himself when you complimented him. “Don’t let it go to your big fat head,” you snickered and he growled playfully at you.

Quite literally growled.

The moment he’d done it, he went still, eyes wide, and even looked a little sick. “Shit,” he hissed.

“What?”

“I…” then his huge shoulders slumped despondently and he let out a long breath. “I guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you. I mean, I’ve been meaning to tell you for… well, since we kind of became friends, really. But it never seemed… convenient…”

“Convenient to tell me what?”

He shuffled a bit and poked at the embers of the fire. Your stomach felt uneasy, and it had nothing to do with the inordinate amount of amazing food you’d just finished. “I…” he began, and then whispered, “Fuck it.” He looked you in the eye and said, “I’m not human. I’m a werewolf.”

You blinked. It didn’t totally surprise you, if you were honest. “Well, that… certainly makes one or two things add up…”

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

He turned his golden eyes away from you and poked a bit more at the smoldering, grey wood, making it crumble to fragile ashes. He did look a bit easier now though. “I figured… maybe you wouldn’t… that if you knew that I’m not human, you might not want me as your roommate anymore… It was stupid though, I know.”

“Lowe,” you said, more gently this time, reaching for his bare forearm where he’d cuffed his tartan sleeve up to his elbow. His skin was warm and his muscles tensed, hard as the earth beneath you as he waited for whatever you were going to say next. “You’ve become probably my best friend… There’s no one I’d rather be roommates with than you. Besides, who else is going to tolerate your Soulsborne marathons and hipster lumberjack wardrobe?”

A long, low growl emanated from him but it dissolved into laughter when he saw your expression and he shook his head. “I can’t believe I was so chicken about you knowing…”

“I can’t believe you looked like you pissed yourself a minute ago!”

His eyes flashed openly gold now and he huffed, “I did not…”

“You totally did. Anyway, I’m glad you told me. But you know that means I’m going to want to know all the details.”

“I think I’ll save that for another day,” he said as he reached for the s’mores beside him.

‘Another’ day turned out to be a week after you’d helped him move all his boxes into your room. He was lying on his back on his bed, his arms folded up behind his head, one knee bent, the other leg stretched out, foot dangling off the end of the mattress. You glanced across the room at him from where you had your laptop on your knees and your headphones on, working on the last tweaks of the next assignment due. He looked tense, even though he wasn’t really doing anything in particular.

Removing your headphones, you murmured, “Lowe? Everything alright?”

“Mmm,” he half growled. A moment later he heaved out a huge sigh and said, “No. Full moon’s tomorrow night. I always get kind of… cranky around now.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Whatever you’d thought he’d say, you hadn’t expected the long, low moan that escaped him. It was not an innocent noise. Breathing through his mouth in soft, quiet pants, he didn’t look at you, but you sensed that his eyes were glowing.

“Lowe?”

“No,” he said. “Not unless you want to take whatever this is between us somewhere else…”

You bit your lip. “You mean…?”

“It would probably take the edge off if we slept together, yes,” he said bluntly. “But if you don’t want that, then I’m hardly going to push…”

“I like it when you’re pushy,” you countered, setting your laptop aside and staring him in the eye.

His pupils blew wide and he raised his nose. “Fuck,” he cursed. “Oh… fuck, you’re beautiful.”

With a smile, you crossed the room to him as he sat up, watching your every move with unwavering, lupine focus. “Let me help you out, big guy,” you crooned playfully and he twitched his lip in a possessive snarl, eyes golden and locked on the curve of your neck.

“Last chance,” he said. “I don’t want you regretting crossing this line with me.”

“You’ve got super-human senses, Lowe,” you said, playing with the hem of your shirt. His gaze darted instantly to the movement, transfixed by the glimpse of skin beneath your top. “You must know how I feel about you by now…”

“Yes, but lusting after someone and doing something about it is different when they’re your friend… I don’t want you to feel like I’m putting pressure on you…”

In answer, you reached out and trailed your fingertips up his neck, scratching him a little bit and making him growl again, and as you finished with a single finger drawing a line up his throat and under his chin, he shivered, as if barely holding himself back. “Why don’t you put just the right amount pressure on me… here?” you said, licking your lips as you climbed into his lap, straddling his thick thighs and running your palms over the softness of his stomach.

His jaw was soft, mouth open as he panted openly, and beneath you as you ground your hips to emphasise your question, you felt his hard cock.

A heartbeat later, he’d clamped his hands under your thighs and stood up. Lowe dropped you onto the bed with the perfect mix of recklessness and carefulness and lunged for you. He peppered and mouthed kisses down your neck, tugging at your skin with his canines, biting at your earlobe, his short beard burning and scratching your skin deliciously, and all the while he ground his cock against your thigh through his jeans.

It clearly wasn’t nearly enough, and it wasn’t long before you were both naked on his bed, and he had his mouth on you, his hands spreading your legs wide as he used the strength in his arms that his softer body belied. “Don’t come yet,” he rasped between strokes of his tongue. “Not til I say…”

“Oh,” you gasped, fighting the rising wave of heat that swept up your body, tingling under your skin, at that command. You tried, you really did, but in a mere few strokes of his tongue, you came with a cry against the heat of his mouth, bucking while he held you down and pulled you against his mouth to press his tongue tight against your throbbing clit.

When he pulled back, looking extremely smug about himself and his talents, you saw that his canines had lengthened and his features had become a little less… human.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he said, clearly still enjoying the taste of you on his lips.

“Will you hurry up and fuck me?” you pouted, and he snarled.

“Such a brat,” he laughed, but he didn’t waste any time either.

—

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#werewolf #male werewolf #werewolf x reader #exophilia #monster boyfriend #male werewolf x female reader

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asunshinepuff · 3 years

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Secrets of the Darkened Seas

🧜🏻‍♀️ Hello! Welcome to chapter three! Please please please give a like and follow to my co-author and best friend Luna ( @ladynightmare913 ) because this story would not be where it’s at without her help!

She’s incredible and deserves so much credit for working on this alongside me cause she works so hard. And I feel horrible that she isn’t getting the credit deserves.

Especially since this chapter includes some of her own ocs in addition to my own! There’s a lot of new faces to join us! All credit for creation goes to each other for our respective characters because we’ve both worked so hard to create our ocs and I wouldn’t dare want to take credit away from her.

As always, a reminder that there is some lore included within this, however, it will be explained over time so no worries. There’s no mention of lore for right now.

The Included lore on different types of merfolk will be taken from the book “The Secret World of Mermaids” by Francine Rose. We will not take credit for it’s writing. It’s a childhood book of mine that I adore dearly and sincerely think you should all check out!

Also! Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so that you don’t miss a new chapter!

Anyways, that’s about it. I hope you enjoy!

If you’ve missed any chapters here’s the link to the masterlist for this story Secrets of the Darkened Seas 🧜🏻‍♀️

Small warning at the start here, there is a minor character death included in this chapter.

Chapter 3: A Sea of Fireworks

Three years passed as The Dragon’s Pearl sailed the seven seas. There had been many fierce battles and grand adventures as Remus learned the ways of the sword from both Captain Hua and First mate Sandoval. During the past few years, Remus found a particular fondness for literature that grew further than when he was younger. Along the way, there have been many new companions to join the shipmates, and the secrets of a certain young man were revealed. A year on his own at sea taught Remus many things, but he couldn’t help but miss the company of those upon The Dragons’ Pearl.

Now at seventeen summers old, the once young boy has grown into a fine young man.

Under the sea, there was a mythical creature with bright shimmering amber scales, varying in shades of accent tones from the top of his tail, to his fluke. The moonlight breached the surface of the darkened sea, the light reflected off of his amber eyes, as if they began to shine and glow under the moon’s pale beauty. His medium length tawny colored hair flowed around him in the cool waters. The mer turned down before his arms moved forwards as he dived down deeper into the sea. The deeper he went, the darker it became.

As he reached the seafloor, he swam at a leisurely pace, brushing a clawed hand against the seagrass. Looking up, the seagrass became littered with life, crabs, small, fish, seahorses, an octopus, and coral. He chuckled to himself as the fish scattered when he swam near them, a green sea turtle by his side seemed to follow him, wherever he went. It had felt too long since he had last been in the sea.

Remus’ head turned sharply upwards as he picked up the sound of a muffled screeching noise coming from the surface. Then a muted bang before a flash of scattered gold light. With a strong flick of his tail, the floor beneath him vanished from sight as he neared the surface.

Breaching from the water, he looks up to the familiar ship with concern, “Opal! What’s happening?!” He yells up to the deck.

In an instant, a tall beautiful greek woman, around the age of twenty-three, with long light brown hair, hazel green eyes, lightly tanned skin peered over the railing of the deck to respond. She was dressed in a sea-blue off the shoulder long-sleeved shirt that was tucked into her light brown pants, with a black corset vest on top, and black boots. At her hip was a wide sword with a dark blue sheath, and its hilt had the detailing of a trident.

“Min-Jun received a letter! We have to make port in Portland! The Blacks and Greyback were spotted off the coast of Dorset!” She lowers the rope ladder and opens the small gate, “Get your tail up here!”

Remus catches the ladder with ease and pulls himself up onto it, “What’s the sudden hurry? We’re currently off the coast of Dorset ourselves.” He comments, looking back up to his friend.

“Quinn’s family lives in Portland, he thinks they’ll be going after them!” Opal replies, tossing down a blanket for Remus to dry his scales with.

Remus winces as the blanket lands upon his head, frowning as it blocks his view. Pulling the soft cloth from his head, he sets to work on drying himself and his scales, “But why would they go after his family?” He yells out.

Opal pauses, a somber look upon her face as she watches Remus make his way up the rope ladder with his two legs, scales now nowhere to be seen. She shakes her head as he reaches the deck, “I don’t know. But I think something’s wrong.”

Two-quarters of an hour pass with The Dragon’s Pearl sailing at full speed to Portland. The sea seemed to be at their side that night, the sound of cannon fire reached the members of the crew. The lifeboats were lowered with First mate Sandoval and Remus inside one of the boats.

Remus’ eyes widened when he saw the pitch-black sails of The Ophiuchus which could barely be seen from a distance. The ship’s colors had a black flag with a white skull with a snake coming out of an eye socket. The Blacks. The ancient pirate ship passed down from generation to generation of Blacks. Rumors and tales continuously traveled from sailors aboard many ships about the family, the ship gaining the nickname of Grimmauld amongst the gossiping sailors. Remus had heard many tales himself in the past.

The Blacks were ruthless in their pliage for gold, leaving no survivors. There were tales of The Ophiuchus battling The Dragon’s Pearl when Captain Orion Black attempted to steal the other Captain’s ship. Although Captain Hua was young, he forced the Blacks to flee when their ship suffered too much damage. The Captain of The Dragon’s Pearl had given them a warning years ago that should he ever see them again, he would kill the Captain of The Ophiuchus.

The boats reached the docks before everyone ran up to the small town of Portland. Quinn cut down any pirate who foolishly stood in his way. Remus followed close behind, sword drawn at the ready, and cut down any pirate who tried to go after Quinn whilst the man’s back was turned. Remus had grown used to the occasional battle, but hardly ever were the stakes this high. Opal and Captain Hua had stayed on the ship with a skeleton crew, while the other sailors joined Remus and Quinn to shore.

Remus stopped in his tracks when one of the pirates was running straight for him. With the sword in his hand, Remus quickly stabbed the pirate in the abdomen before pulling his sword free and running to catch up with Quinn. Who was running up a hill towards the Lighthouse faster than Remus had ever seen the man move.

Up close the lighthouse was rather beautiful for its old age, time had been kind to it, yet the years have clearly made their marks all throughout the house. The lighthouse more than likely had many stories to tell. Standing tall with red and white patterns, a small quaint cottage at the base of the lighthouse became visible as Remus neared the property. The house was alight with shadows dancing across the windows as pirates breached the door, the sound of clanging swords could be heard coming from inside the house. Quinn cut down pirates until he finally managed to enter the house.

Quinn’s eyes widened as he surveyed the state of the house, there were countless pirates from both the Black’s and Greyback’s sailors engaged in sword fights. There was hardly a break as he entered the fray of battle, cutting down unsuspecting men from behind and never letting his guard down.

A middle-aged woman with black hair tied into a messy bun, bright brown eyes, fair skin, and rosy lips gripped the rapier in her hand tightly as she slashed down another pirate. She twirled expertly, her white nightgown and dark robe twirling with her, to dodge a blow from another pirate before she stabs them, she pulls the sword free before she raises it to the man who just entered the cottage, freezing as her eyes widen in surprise. “Quinn!” She exclaimed before her eyes darted to a pirate behind him who began to stir awake.

He smiles at the exclamation before following her line of sight, turning behind him he sees the pirate that began to stir awake. Flipping the hilt of his sword in hand, he stabs the newly conscious pirate in the chest before turning back to the woman, “Mother are you alright?” He looked over the cottage, objects just laying scatter on the floor before he looked back to his mother.

“I’m perfectly alright, it’s your father I’m worried about, that blasted Greyback cornered him to the basement!” The woman turned her gaze to the young man who just reached the door, quickly assessing him before offering him a small nod. “And you must be Remus.”

Remus nods in return, “I am. How did you-” He cuts himself off as the answer was obvious and gives his First mate a pointed look, “Quinn. You’ve told them about me haven’t you?”

“Remus. Who do you take me for? Of course, I did.” Quinn mirrors the same pointed look back, “How else do you think Min-Jun and I were able to help you as a child?” He looks back to his mother, “We better move quickly. Hopefully, father is using the basement to his advantage.”

“Quinn, this is your father, of course, he is.” The woman turns to a door that leads to a staircase to the basement. Quickly lifting her skirt the woman rushed down the stairs.

The three rush down the stairs and into the large dimly lit basement, which could only be described as a very large study with storage. Bookshelves lined the walls and the shelves themselves were stacked with a variety of mythical things one would only believe to be within the tales. Color bottles and vials littered the shelves of the room, various plants were in every corner of the room. In the center of the basement, a large man with a cutlass scoured the room with a harsh glare for the man who was hiding.

The man wielding the cutlass was large, nearly the height of Min-Jun and Quinn, he had a vicious looking face, with very long matted grey hair in dreads, a scar going across his right eye, the iris pale compared to its twin which was pitch black. His left ear had a gold hoop earring, his teeth were visible as he sneered at others who interrupted his dual.

Remus’ eyes could only widen as he looked upon the large man, his breathing quickening and grip tightening on his sword. Every part of him grew defensive and fearful, his instincts screaming at him to get out. To run. He’s heard of this man before, Fenrir Greyback, a notorious and ruthless hunter of mers alike, capturing and selling mers for profit, or simply to just experiment on them. Other times he’d simply slaughter any merfolk he could find.

Greyback’s knuckles looked raw and battered with blood as he gripped his weapon tightly, his long yellowish nails were easily spotted as his right hand pressed against his chest, a wound with fresh blood seeping through his grey shirt. “This isn’t over.” He snarled before he ran out the basement door.

Hidden behind a bookcase, was a middle-aged man with tousled red-brown hair with long bangs parted to the left, light-colored skin, and blue eyes. He wore a simple navy blue shirt underneath a grey robe, light brown pants, and dark brown boots. Eyes trained as he watched the burly man closely, sword drawn at the ready to continue the duel. He made no motion to move as Greyback snarled in warning, back pressed flush against the wood until he could hear the pounding footsteps a safe distance away.

Relaxing marginally, he exits his retreat behind the bookcase and sighs, “That man is repulsive.” He mutters under his breath.

“You’re not wrong about that father.” Quinn chuckles as he gently pats his father’s shoulder.

“Why would Greyback come all the way out here? Why would he attack you?” Remus looked at the older man.

“Probably because my husband has something he wants.” The older woman looks to her husband. “Are you alright?”

The older man looks to his wife and nods, “I’m alright. If anything Greyback’s in much worse shape. That wound is going to leave quite a scar if untreated.”

“What was he after?” Remus looked between the older couple.

“Something no one should know exists.” The woman looked around the room. Muttering under her breath at the state of the room. “But rumors are a powerful thing, especially when they hold truths.”

“And especially if it makes you incredibly well known in the nautical world.” The man continued with a sigh. Moving aside his robe, he pulls free a rather thick leather book from an inner pocket and looks down at it. “He’d be a fool to think I’d just leave it lying about.”

Remus’ eyes looked over the leather book. At first glance, it was nothing out of the ordinary, but Remus knew better than to judge a book by its cover. It was what’s inside the book that Greyback took a slash to the chest in order to obtain. And failed. Whatever information that was contained inside the book was important. Why else would such a siege upon this small home occur? Enough to bring both Greyback and the Blacks themselves here.

“This book is the only one in existence.” The woman looked at Remus as she stood beside her husband. “It’s about your kind.” Gently taking the book from her husbands’ hands, she holds the book to Remus. “My husband wrote everything he learned about the magical creatures of the sea.” She smiles as she encourages Remus to take the book.

“About my kind…” He repeats at a whisper before a realization comes to mind, amber eyes widening at the thought, “That’s why he wanted the book. To hunt more merfolk.” A cold shudder runs down his spine at the thought of Greyback getting his hands upon this book. No wonder the older man fought to protect it with his life. Mers alike would be in even more danger than in the past. And after seeing the man in person, Remus felt as though the rumors didn’t give any accurate insight as to how gruesome the pirate actually appeared, and the snarling tone of his voice would most likely echo in his mind for days.

At the older man’s nod in confirmation, he looked back at him. “How long have you been working on this?” Remus asked as he took the book, with careful hands.

“Many years. I was a bit younger than you when I first started writing the beginning pages.”

Remus looks down to the worn leather book and opens to a well-kept page, Fantastic Nautical Creatures, by Newt Scamander. Remus’ eyes widen at the title and familiar name, pausing mid-turn of a page. Wait. Remus looks at Quinn with wide eyes, before he looks back to the older couple.

“You’re Newt Scamander,” He looks to the woman, “And you’re Porpetina Scamander!”

“Please, call me Tina dear.” She rubs Remus’ arm in a comforting manner.

Remus looks to Quinn, an unreadable expression upon his face. Quinn had called them mother and father. That means… “You’re their son?!”

“Quinton Scamander is my real name,” Quinn answered with a simple shrug. “Sandoval was the first thing I could come up with when you asked for my name. I’m not exactly used to keeping an alias.” He looks at his parents. “Why couldn’t you have just kept it at Quinn?”

“And leave the Scamander tradition of giving horrible names? I couldn’t possibly.” Tina chuckled.

“Oh, you wound me, mother. What a way to keep tradition.” Quinn replies with a wince.

“It’s not like my family did any better.” Tina retorts just as the sound of cannon fire boomed, echoing throughout the basement. Tensing, everyone turned their heads to the back door, and with a nod from Newt, they exited the damaged basement and headed to the cliffs.

As the group ran back towards the shoreline, Remus could see The Dragon’s Pearl exchanging cannon fire with The Ophiuchus. The ships both suffered blows from the other, only the Dragon’s Pearl wasn’t on fire. And what appeared to be Min-Jun, swinging on a rope, from the Ophiuchus back to the Dragon’s Pearl.

Quinn only groaned at the sight. “And he gives me lectures about swinging from a rope.” Hypocrite. “Why are you like this…” He mumbled under his breath.

Tina and Newt only chuckled as their son scowled at the captain. They ran to the docks just as the Ophiuchus began to make their retreat, and the Dragon’s Pearl making its way to the loading docks. Opal was the first rush down to welcome Quinn and Remus back.

Quinn had a strange feeling, one that he couldn’t place as he looked over Opal. Relieved that the woman wasn’t injured in the crossfire, although he was well aware that she could easily handle herself. “Ti synévi?” What happened? he had asked.

“To shorten it: Min-Jun snuck onto Greyback’s ship and found two gorgónes. Mermaids. Brought them back to The Dragon’s Pearl, then snuck onto the Ophiuchus, rescued the second Black heir and brought him back as well.” Opal said with a shake of her head, “How that was possible, I have no idea.”

“Sounds about right,” Newt replied with a chuckle.

The older couple looked at their son, who had never told them he learned and spoke greek. Newt and Tina looked at each other before sharing a knowing smile. Tina looked to the woman with the greek accent. “I’m Tina Scamander, Quinn’s mother. I wonder why my dear son would fail to mention a lovely lady such as yourself in his letters?” She turns her head slowly to glare at Quinn, who found the sea far more interesting at the moment. Tina looked back to the young woman. “What is your name dear?”

Opal watched Quinn’s gaze quickly turn to the sea in embarrassment. Oh this awkward man. She fought the urge to tease the poor man, there was time to mess with him another time. Not in front of his parents. She smiled as she looked at Tina. “Opal Teresi. It’s nice to meet you.”

Remus looked to Quinn with a teasing smirk, “Really? You mention me in your letters but not Opal?”

“Shut. Up.” Quinn says with wide eyes that seemed to promise pain with an unnaturally wide smile.

“You’ll have to write to me dear, Quinn hardly ever writes what’s going on in his life. I have to rely on Min-Jun for that.” She tsks she pats Opal’s hand affectionately.

“I will,” Opal replies with a nod.

“May I see them?” Newt asks the young woman. “The mermaids.”

The young woman pauses for a moment and looks to Newt, “They’re terrified, so please. If there’s any way you could help.”

“Maybe I can get them to calm down?” Remus suggests looking to Opal and Newt.

“That may be for the best.” Opal agrees, “We better hurry, Min-Jun wants to leave as soon as possible. Before the Blacks notice their son is missing.”

Opal leads the group to the cabins, walking past many doors until they finally stop at one door with a circular window. Remus peered inside and froze when a pair of glaring eyes locked to his. Inside the room, there was a tall beautiful Asian woman with wet long dark brown hair, brown eyes, fair skin, and bright red lips. She looked to be about Opal’s age. Her tail was a dazzling array of soft blue scales that looked like misshapen spots, with white scales as the base, her fluke was nearly a translucent shimmery white. Her skin was pale, her arms were wrapped tightly around the smaller mer. Her tail coiled around them protectively. Remus nearly gasped. The mermaid only clutched the child tighter, her glare never leaving Remus’ face.

The mer in her arms was tiny. A child, who couldn’t have been older than four. The mer child had short soft silky black hair that was in disarray, brown eyes, light sun-kissed skin. The child clung tightly to the older mermaid's neck, their tail had pale teal and shimmery white scales with the same patterns as the older mermaid, safely tucked under her arms. The mer child’s shoulders were shaking, pearls littered the blankets beneath them. Tears. They sat alone in the room, laying on top of a few spare blankets for the cabin beds.

Remus’ gaze was pulled away at the sound of running footsteps, a sailor running past them in haste, to the infirmary. On impulse, Remus followed the sailor as they walked through the door.

There Min-Jun sat on a chair, looming over a deathly still figure, his face pale. Min-Jun was holding the still figure’s hand.

Remus gulped, scared to find out who the figure was. “Who…”

Min-Jun looked up to see Remus. With pained eyes he looked back down to the figure. Gently putting the cold hand to rest on their chest.

“Ethan’s dead.”

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#wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #quinn scamander #min-jun hua #opal teresi #newt scamander #tina goldstein #minor character death #mysterious mers #orion black #fenrir greyback #asunshinepuff ocs #ladynightmare ocs #our ocs #pirate captian #pirate and mermaid au

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afriendlyblackhottie · 4 years

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Ransom Drysdale Must Die (Chapter One)

Summary: Ransom Drysdale is a serial cheater. The only way to get him to pay for what he’s done is for him to die. Or at least be extremely humiliated. As long as you don’t fall for him.

Pairings: Eventual Ransom Drysdale x black!reader, Ransom Drysdale x Multiple OC’s

Warnings: Swearing. Eventual smut.

(Author’s Note: I was watching John Tucker must die and it made me think of my favorite sweater wearing murder daddy.)

Tags: @night-of-the-living-shred

Word Count: 2.0k

It's not that you were invisible. You preferred to think of it as keeping a low profile. Growing up, you didn't really have a choice but to keep things to yourself. What was the point of trusting people if all you were going to do was leave? You couldn't make friends or keep them if you'd be moving in another four to six months anyway. Not that it was your choice.

It started at a really young age. Technically before you were even born. Your mom had been a teen parent. Your dad didn't stick around which was all you knew about him. It didn't take long for you to get used to the myriad of men walking in and out of your life. Then you got used to seeing your mom, your only constant, getting treated like garbage over and over and over.

She never had an issue with dating. It was them sticking around that was apparently tricky. The problem is that when it would happen the same thing always happened. She'd binge on chocolate. Use you as a shoulder to cry on. Then you'd be moving to flee into the next city. It was kind of fucked up.

While she cried over the hundredth guy your nose was either buried in a book or painting which had been your only escape. You never wanted to judge your mom. She didn't deserve to always have her heartbroken. But, you also didn't deserve having a mom that wanted to pack up at the first sign of trouble. She didn't seem to get that.

As an adult, you promised yourself that you would find one place and stick to it. It might have hurt your mom a little to watch you go, but she understood that you had to go away for college and stuff. Which is how you ended up in Boston. You kind of remember living in Boston once back in the day. You liked the winters surprisingly and the way the trees looked in the fall. You remembered being happy which is why it sucked so much to leave.

You’d gotten your degree, but finding a job had been difficult. Which is how you ended up working at this country club. Though you could live without all the snobby rich people being total assholes, at least they tipped well. You mostly waitress in the clubhouse where it was usually the older crowd and the families that sucked up to them for the inheritance.

It was also how you first noticed him. Hugh Ransom Drysdale. From the moment you laid eyes on him you could tell he was dangerous. Just like those men, your mother would fall for that would inevitably break her heart. That same air of arrogance hanging over him like a cloud, except much better looking with a trust fund to go along with it.

He insisted everyone in the clubhouse call him Hugh. Which according to everyone is what he insists the help call him. God, he's a fucking asshole.

You remember the first time you talked to him. He was so enchanting. It was annoying. He was like Gaston come to life. Just as handsome, just as charming, just as scummy. Sure he made those white polos he wore to play golf look like he'd just stepped off a shoot for GQ. His gaze was enough to make any woman swoon. Even you as much as you hated to admit it.

It'd been one of the few times you'd worked at the bar. Someone had called out and being the new girl you were told to take their spot. "Sweetheart, be useful and get me a bourbon," he'd said in this rude tone.

"Not even a please?" You muttered under your breath as you turned your back to get a glass.

"What was that?" He asked, with a quirk in his eyebrow.

You kissed your teeth before turning back to him, "Excuse me?" You plastered a sweet smile on your face.

"You got something to say? Say it." He challenged.

You shook your head. "I didn't... I didn't say anything."

He chuckled. "Okay, lo-"

Your jaw dropped as you put your hand on your chest. "Oh my god, Sir, if you're already drunk I can't serve you. You'd be a liability."

"That's a big word. Did they teach you that in community college?" The glare in his eye was intense and you couldn't help it as a smile spread across your face.

"Actually I think I learned it from where you get your trust fund."

You were surprised when he laughed. But, not that little sarcastic chuckle. Like an actual laugh. "Usually I'd call the manager over and enjoy them firing you in front of me, but lucky for you I'm in a good mood and kind of enjoying this. Now get me my bourbon."

"One bourbon coming up." You shrugged.

You talked with him for the rest of your shift surprisingly. The conversation going from hostile to surprisingly pleasant. He’d told you about some issue he’d been having with his grandfather that he hadn’t told the rest of his family he laughed at the idea of them finding out. Said he couldn’t wait to see the look on their faces when they found out everything was going to the nurse.

It was the trashy rich people drama that you craved.

“I know there’s gonna be a lot of bullshit when they find out they aren’t getting that house,” he’d scoffed, looking up at you from his drink.

“I’d be pissed too,” you replied. “I’m sure that house looks like a museum. I’d love to see it.”

“It’s insane.” He nodded. “Imagine like a horror museum with one of those escape rooms.”

You laughed. “So like plastic spiders? Cobwebs? Ghosts!” What a turn around this had been from the initial conversation the two of you were having.

“Not at all,” he said laughing. “It’s more like everything he’s ever thought for his novels, he just adds to his home. Like he needs the visualization. He has a secret window and a chair with knives. It’s insane.”

“That actually sounds pretty cool. Your grandpa sounds like a pretty cool guy, you must admire him a lot.”

“I mean... yeah, but I’d never tell him that.”

“Why not?” You asked with a chuckle.

“It’s complicated,” he answered, before bringing his glass up to his lips. “Like, I love him, but....”

“No. I get it.” Of course, you did. Your mom was a complicated figure in your life, but you could never not love her.

“I’ve done a lot of shit.” He shrugged. “So, I think it’s mutual.”

“At least his house sounds interesting. Like a work of art. I’m kind of a sucker for art.”

“Do you paint? Draw? Doodle on an iPad.” The way he smiled up at you, you would have never guessed that he was the giant asshole everyone made him out to be. There was this softness there even if it was hiding under his arrogant exterior.

You chuckled. “I paint. Though I do partake in the doodling on iPads.”

“I’d love to see your work sometime,” he said. “Do you sell?”

“I haven’t,” you replied. “But, I’m open to it. I guess. I’d show you now, but I’m not allowed to have my phone on the floor.”

“Oh so I’m not worth risking being fired for, I get it,” he joked, shaking his head as if he was offended.

You laughed, tilting your head back. “I know right. I’m already risking it by even talking to you. Harrington is so strict.”

There was this squint on his face as he kind of looked you up and down. It felt like he was studying you and it made you feel like you were under a microscope. “You’ve got a cute laugh you know that?”

No. Don’t give in. You had to tell yourself. You didn’t want to get involved with anyone you’d have to workaround. Besides, it was Ransom Drysdale. You’d just seen him with a woman yesterday. “Thank you,” you brushed him off. “Can I get you another drink?”

He sighed, checking the time on his phone. “As much as I’d love to stay and chat. I have to get going. Maybe I’ll stop by soon so we can talk again. Maybe show me some of your work?”

“Sure.”

He’d left you a forty dollar tip. You were not expecting that.

You’d left work that night feeling pretty good. Not that you were expecting him to fall in love with you or anything. Or for anything to happen at all. It was just a nice encounter with the guy everyone was obsessed with here. Besides you promised yourself you’d never, ever fall into the same trap as Mom had.

It’s not that you didn’t date. You were picky, though. The few relationships you’d had were okay, but you didn’t want to get hurt so you never wanted to get in too deeply.

Then the next day you had come to work, he’d walked in with Marissa on his arm. That stopped any and all thoughts you may have had. It was during that lull between when they'd stopped serving breakfast and brought out the lunch menus. You weren’t surprised that a man like Hugh Ransom Drysdale would be dating a woman like Marissa Clermont. She was exactly the type of woman men like him go for. You know a model IT girl type of deal.

It wasn’t just because he’d been dating Marissa. Of course not. It was because the day before you he’d just come in with Amber Taylor. The daughter of a retired Boston Celtics player. Also, a beautiful woman (also a model you think) who clearly didn’t know her boyfriend was two-timing her.

“Fascinating isn’t it?” Your co-worker, Britt, interrupted your thoughts as she’d come back from taking their drink order. Her arms were crossed as she tried to not make it too obvious that was she looking over at them. “He comes in here with different women and none of them have any idea.”

You frowned as you saw him whispering in her ear, making her giggle, probably telling her the same thing he told Amber just yesterday. “Yeah, I see that,” you replied. “How does he get away with it?”

“Ladies! Back to work!” Harrington, your manager, barked towards the both of you which made the both of you scurry off before she even had the chance to answer. You didn’t even get to talk to her because her shift was over soon then you were off the next day. You weren’t even sure why you cared so much.

When you got back to work it was during that lull time. Ransom was there of course with a different woman. Chloe Daniels. A blonde that had been the sole heir to her husband’s entire fortune no matter how much his ex wife or adult children tried to fight it. You were happy you got to witness the drama for that.

“He messes around with girls that don’t talk to each other,” Britt was finally able to explain. “So, they never find out. At least, that’s what the story around here is.”

“Wow he has a whole system worked out...” you crinkle your nose. Ugh what a fucking pig. Just like your mother and those douchebags she dated.

“I mean, I kind of get it,” Britt said. “He’s hot. I might put up with being treated like trash for that much. Hell, I’ve put up being treated like trash for much less.”

You held in the laugh you wanted to let out as you could see Harrington lurking around, waiting to say something to the two of you. He never missed his chance to give out orders.

For as long as the couple sat through you couldn’t stop staring. Britt was right. It was fascinating.

#ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey x you #ransom x y/n #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x black!reader #ransom drysdale x poc!reader #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x black!reader

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myheartrevealedocs · 4 years

Text

Untouchable- Ch 1: Jenna Borge

Summary: A Spencer Reid x OC fanfic that retells select episodes, starting in season 1, from the point of view of Lydia Ambers, a forensic scientist.

Warnings: swearing, murder

Ch 2 | About Lydia

~ ~ ~

Waking up in a hospital was not Lydia’s idea of a good time.

Not as a broke college student. And especially not when she had no recollection of injuring herself. In fact, she couldn’t even remember falling asleep. It was like she had blinked and found herself horizontal… Not great.

She tried to pull herself together enough to figure out what was wrong. Other than her head being fuzzy, she couldn’t seem to find any injuries on herself. Perhaps she’d passed out? But if that were the case, Jenna would have given her some water and put her to bed. What would warrant a trip to the hospital?

“Lydia Ambers?” A woman asked, pulling her attention to the door. “My name is Detective Richards. I have a few questions for you.”

Oh shit…

~ ~ ~

“Last night, in Santa Cruz, California, college student Jenna Borge was stabbed multiple times in her dorm room. Her roommate, Lydia Ambers, was sedated with antipsychotics, but otherwise unharmed.”

“So, it’s personal,” Morgan inferred.

“You would think that,” JJ agreed. “Only, this doesn’t look to be his first kill. Two months ago, a recent graduate from UC Santa Cruz, Elizabeth Chang, was stabbed and killed while walking home from work. Six months before that, Lucy Max was found in an alleyway. The first two girls were assumed to have been victims of muggings, but now with Jenna’s death, the Santa Cruz PD are thinking it’s a serial killer.”

“Any connection between the victims?” Elle asked, but JJ shook her head.

“Nothing but age and gender. These girls were of different races, social standings, and Lucy was a college student at a different school than Elizabeth and Jenna. It’s highly unlikely that these girls have any friends in common.”

“Why leave the roommate alive then?” It was Reid this time, looking through the information on his file. “If our unsub has no preference for the girls he picks, why not kill her too? And the fact that he had the tranquilizer handy means he knew she would be there and had planned ahead of time not to kill her.”

“So, our unsub has some sort of connection with these girls. He’s killing these girls for a reason. The question is, what reason?” Gideon finished, standing up to leave. “Let’s go to California.”

~ ~ ~

“I need you to tell me everything you remember,” Detective Richards said, sitting beside Lydia’s bed.

“What’s going on?” Lydia demanded. “Why am I here?”

“I really need to know what you know before I tell you anything,” the woman explained, unhelpfully.

“I don’t know anything! I swear, the last thing I remember was studying in my room.”

“Was your roommate there?”

Lydia huffed. She didn’t get it. Something was going on, something bad, likely having to do with the fact that she ended up in a hospital with no apparent injuries. And the only person who knew was being passive and dodging her questions.

The last time she’d had to deal with the police like this, they’d been as blunt as a hammer. Sixteen-year-old Lydia had no clue what was coming and they swept the rug out from underneath her. She had felt like she was drowning, being asked a thousand questions before their words could sink in.

Somehow, Detective Richards was worse.

“Yes. My roommate was trying to sleep.”

“And was there anyone else in the room with you?”

Lydia did all she could to keep from scratching her own eyes out. “No.”

“Are you sure? This is vital information, Miss Ambers. We need to know everyone who came in and out of your room yesterday.”

“I’m not lying,” she insisted. “Only Jenna and I were in our room. Now please, tell me what happened!”

The detective hesitated a moment. Lydia’s heart leapt into her throat, the suspense finally catching up to her. Perhaps a realization, too. For some reason, she could see where this was going.

“Last night, someone came into your room and murdered your roommate, Jenna Borge.”

The denial struck first. “That doesn’t make any sense. Jenna was right next to me. I would’ve… No one was there but us.”

“You two were found by a classmate of Jenna’s. She thought you both were dead, but when the police arrived on scene, they realized that you had been knocked out, but were still breathing. The doctor can talk to you about that more than I can. Whoever killed your roommate drugged you first, to stop you from doing anything.”

And then, as always… the anger.

“Leave.”

~ ~ ~

Jenna was gone. Really gone. Lydia had tried calling her phone multiple times, but stopped herself when she realized that listening to Jenna’s voice was only fueling her anger.

It felt as if storms raged in Lydia’s stomach. If the universe was really out to get her, why did it never come for her directly?

She shed her tears quickly that night, knowing that her hospital room might be the only place for her to safely do so. Once she left, she couldn’t disappear. People would want to talk to her about it. She’d have to go back to class. And there really wasn’t any way of processing something like this except moving on.

“Drink a lot of water,” the nurse explained to Lydia, as she escorted her out of the hospital the next morning. “You’ll likely be lethargic for the next few days, so go easy on yourself. Take a day off or ask your teachers to be gentle with your workload.”

“Thank you,” she responded, shortly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Lydia Ambers?”

Lydia groaned. Another cop? Really?

The man who had called to her stood in the waiting room of the hospital. He pulled out a badge, though he was still too far away for her to see. His partner, a far younger, taller man, was raking his eyes over her, as if looking for something.

Lydia left her escort and walked over to the two of them, arms crossed over her chest. “Yes?”

“My name is Agent Gideon, this is Dr. Reid. We’re from the FBI.”

She raised an eyebrow, not intending to be challenging, but she couldn’t help it. Lydia had never been great at calming herself down, despite all the opportunities to practice. “Whoopie for you. I explained to Detective Richards what happened that night. I honestly don’t remember anything. If you’re here to take me in as a suspect, go ahead, but if not, there’s nothing I can do for you.”

“Miss Ambers, we work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We’re not questioning you as a suspect, but we believe the man who attacked your roommate might have known her before he killed her. You might have known him as well. Do you think you could come back to the station with us and sit through a few more questions?”

No, I can’t. The emotional strength it takes to pretend like I’m okay is too much for me. Another hour of questioning and I guarantee my head will explode, I’ll vomit what little is left in my stomach and then my own intestines, and I’ll assault a police officer… In that order.

“Don’t call me Miss Ambers,” she insisted, ignoring the violent monologue replaying in her head. “Lydia is fine. But yes, I’ll come along.”

Agent Gideon nodded and Lydia could see an understanding in his eyes. But she pushed it aside as simply his experience in dealing with grieving strangers.

He led her and Dr. Reid out of the hospital and to a black SUV. As they walked, Dr. Reid fell slightly behind Lydia, which she knew couldn’t be an accident considering his insanely long legs. And even if she didn’t know that, his gaze was burning holes into her side.

“Are you sure I’m not a suspect?”

“Do you think you should be?” Agent Gideon asked.

“No, but Dr. Reid here is staring at me like I might pull a gun on him any minute.”

The guy looked startled that she had even acknowledged him, glancing at Gideon like he needed permission to speak to her. “Um, I was trying to identify the source of your limp. Your hip and knee don’t jerk when you walk and you seem to be able to extend them fully, but you clearly favor your left leg.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. Normally the question was phrased as ‘What’s wrong with your leg?’ She had to admit, she appreciated his forwardness about staring, but it didn’t make her want to answer any more.

“Well, don’t worry Dr. Reid. My medical records will reflect the fact that I have had this for 5 years and it doesn’t affect the case. Thank you for the concern, though.” And with that, she slid into the backseat and shut the door.

He looked at Gideon, confused. “I wasn’t asking because I’m-”

“That means don’t talk about it, Reid,” Gideon told him, before he also got into the car and turned on the engine.

~ ~ ~

“How long had you known Jenna?” Gideon started, having Lydia sit down in an empty room in the station. Reid continued his hovering in the back, completely silent.

“Since we were freshmen… We were going to graduate together next month.”

Saying those words aloud was harder for Lydia than she thought. Her nose started to burn, a sign that tears were on the way, but she set her face with a look of determination. Jenna wasn’t going to graduate. That was a fact now. She couldn’t do anything about that.

“Are you alright, Mi- Lydia?”

She scoffed. “I’m sorry?” she asked, thrown completely off guard. “Should I be?? My friend was just…” The words died in her throat.

“I’m sorry.” Agent Gideon’s tone was completely sincere, but he continued mercilessly. “You’re not displaying some of the typical signs of grief-”

She laughed, dryly. “You analyze behavior and you don’t know that people handle their grief differently?”

“Of course I do. And yours indicates guilt. Perhaps some past trauma you’re trying to repress-”

“You said I wasn’t a suspect-”

“And you’re not-”

“Then stop profiling me!” She smashed her fist against the table and the sudden sting against her hand brought her back to reality. Don’t make this harder. Getting angry at the police only made both sides more frustrated, it wouldn’t compel anyone to find out who did this faster. She gritted her teeth to continue. “Yes, I feel guilty. I let someone sedate me and kill my roommate. And I just don’t understand why he didn’t kill me! Everything else: my anger issues, my past, my fucking leg, it doesn’t pertain to this case. So, please, just let me be.”

“I’m sorry that I’ve upset you.”

That was a shift from what she was used to. When she was younger, it was always the same routine. She’d lash out and the rest of the world would send her away until she calmed down. And she knew that it was her fault. That they didn’t deserve her rage. But she never realized how nice it might be to have someone stop her then and there. And take the blame away from her fury, if only for a moment.

“You didn’t upset me. Agent Gideon, I’m sure you’ve dealt with worse characters than me… at least I hope you have. Just know that I’m doing my best… if there was more to say, I would have told you. If it was going to help, I’d tell you every detail of my past, but it isn’t.”

He seemed to agree with that. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.

“Now then… what else do you want to know?”

~ ~ ~

“Notice anything?” Gideon inquired as the two of them left Lydia, exiting the room she was held in and joining the team in a separate part of the station.

“Yeah? She’s like a walking contradiction. She claims anger issues, but she shows no signs of stress. She makes snappy remarks, but physically she seemed anxious, not angry. Her face is relaxed and her shoulders hold all her tension, not her hands or jaw.”

Gideon nodded, listening closely to the boy’s observations. “What do you make of the fact that she keeps asking if she’s a suspect?”

“Nerves? Guilty conscious? Maybe she’s afraid we’ll find something and she wants to make sure we aren’t looking into her.”

“Good. She doesn’t want to be profiled, that usually indicates that she’s hiding something. But, it always comes back to her past, one she claims Jenna had no part of. So… she’s got a bad history, but it’s unrelated to the case.”

“And for some reason it’s taking priority in her mind, instead of Jenna’s death,” Reid concluded.

“You talking about the roommate?” Hotch asked as they approached.

“Yes,” Gideon explained. “She’s an interesting one. A challenge.”

“Do you think she’s involved?”

Gideon shook his head. “If her medical report wasn’t alibi enough, she shows no signs of being a psychopath. Or a sociopath, for that matter. But she’s hard to profile. She’s got a complicated past, no doubt.”

Morgan laughed upon hearing this. “There’s someone Gideon and Reid can’t profile?”

Reid tried to defend the two of them almost immediately. “It’s almost like she uses her generic differences to hide from the bigger ones. Like, she kept saying she had anger issues, and while that added up with her reactions, clearly they stem from something very particular in her life and she’s trying to pretend like that’s not there. Or something…”

Morgan looked him up and down, noticing Reid’s hesitance in his words: almost, like, something… “She’s got you all confused, Reid. I’ve got to meet this chick.”

“You can,” JJ said, walking into the room with Lydia in tow. “She’s still here.”

The whole room looked up as the new girl strode in. Spencer watched her closely, but for some reason, all his suspicions about her had dissolved after meeting her in the hospital. He tried to be unbiased, but he had something of a gut feeling about her. An inexplicable trust that this act of hers was reasonable.

Lydia’s hair was dark, the ends brushing her shoulders as she walked. She looked nervous, approaching the room of profilers, but her voice was completely steady as she spoke.

“I want to offer more assistance. Better assistance than talking about Jenna’s past boyfriends… I just finished an internship recently with the SCPD. I’m a chemistry student, on track to becoming a forensic scientist. I know I’m not anywhere near as qualified as you are, but I’m far more familiar with the crime scene. At the very least, let me point out anything suspicious. Before you guys clear it out, that is.”

Hotch sucked in his lips, hesitantly, before approaching. “Miss-”

“Lydia,” she and Gideon said simultaneously. She glanced at the older man with an unreadable expression.

“Lydia,” Hotch corrected. “I’m Agent Hotchner. What you’re asking to do is difficult. You’ve seen how some of these crime scenes turn out. It’s messy. We can’t guarantee you’re psychologically ready to see what’s there.”

“I won’t be a burden,” she insisted. “You can have surveillance over me the whole time. But I’m positive I can help.”

“Let her do it,” Gideon chimed in. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

Hotch was clearly not convinced on the matter, but he nodded. “Reid and Morgan, go along.”

Derek approached, reaching his hand out to shake. “I’m Agent Morgan.”

“Lydia,” she introduced, her demeanor calmer now that Hotch had agreed. “Thank you,” she told the unit chief and left briskly.

“She’s definitely guarded,” Morgan admitted. “She must be hiding a big heart underneath that mask. That or she has ulterior motives to go to the crime scene.”

~ ~ ~

Don’t touch anything.

She almost ran the minute the door opened. It had been a day and a half and the room still smelled with an iron-y sharpness.

If you start to cry, or feel sick, just go. Don’t stop to explain yourself.

Every time she looked at the bed, the words ‘that’s not hers’ flashed in front of her eyes. That dark red stain… that’s not hers. And the light red droplets by the door… that’s not hers.

If you can’t handle it, leave.

Wait… that’s not hers...

“Did you guys test this blood?”

Morgan’s face read with clear confusion. “Why do you ask?”

Lydia’s eyes glanced between the bed and the few spots on the floor. “You said he tied her to the bed before stabbing her. Then, how did these get here? It’s not like he or the knife was dripping with her blood, or else there’d be more evidence of it around the room. Not to mention, he had to walk out of the room and down the hall without raising suspicions. So, it’s unlikely there was enough blood on him or the knife to drip on the floor over here. However, if he’d accidentally been cut, he’d be quick to cover it. Probably didn’t notice any evidence hit the floor. That’s why there’s some here, far away from the body, but not trailing to or from it.”

“Very clever,” Gideon acknowledged. “We actually did have that blood tested. It wasn’t your roommates.”

She nodded, but didn’t seem all that happy to hear she was right. Reid had taken notice that the whole time she was explaining her theory, she never called her roommate by her name. She was distancing herself, which was probably good at the moment, but he wondered what she could be thinking about.

“She struggled,” Lydia continued, looking at the disheveled blankets and items which had fallen from her desk. “That’s good… I need to look in these drawers.”

“I don’t know-” Morgan started, but Gideon was already pulling a pair of gloves out of his pocket.

“Put these on first.”

The younger man was clearly not happy about it, but didn’t say anything, instead glancing at Reid, who looked on curiously. Both him and Gideon wanted to know what Lydia might find.

Once her blue surgical gloves were on, she opened up the drawers to Jenna’s desk. Nothing looked weird. A little scattered, but it reflected Jenna quite well. She was just beginning to think the unsub hadn’t touched anything when a thought crossed her mind.

“Where’s her jewelry?”

“We didn’t find any,” Morgan explained and Lydia shook her head.

“That doesn’t make sense. Jenna-” she caught herself, voice catching only for a moment. “...She always wore necklaces. She kept them in this drawer, because she didn’t like to leave expensive items out. She’d even hide them underneath all of the clutter in the hopes that a thief or burglar wouldn’t search all the way down for them. But they aren’t here. None of them are.”

“That doesn’t add up,” Morgan argued. “We didn’t profile this guy as a robber. Why’s he suddenly stealing expensive jewelry from his victims?”

Lydia shrugged and held up a wallet. “Not for the money. This is still full of cash.”

“The necklaces are a trophy for our unsub,” Gideon reasoned. “We’ve seen weirder.”

She nodded. “Her desk is always this disheveled. He could have searched them, I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Anything else seem odd to you?” Gideon asked, noticing a decline in her energy.

She bit down on her bottom lip. Her eyes scanned every corner of the room, zipping over the bed quickly. “Nothing.”

Reid paused, the wheels in his head turning. “We should check pawn shops nearby and see if any of Jenna’s jewelry ended up there. We can try to trace it back to him.”

Gideon agreed. “You two get on that. Lydia, can you come back to the station with me to look over a suspect list?”

She nodded, slowly.

~ ~ ~

“No… No… No… No… ”

Lydia was worried she had hit her limit. Any motivation to help was slowly seeping out of her and a need to scream was replacing it. She’d never seen these guys before. Never heard their names. The most she was able to do at the crime scene was tell them about the necklaces and then a bunch of stuff they already knew. The helpless feeling was taking over once more.

“Gideon.” JJ grabbed his attention as she walked in with a cup of coffee. She set it down next to him, then glanced at Lydia. “Can I possibly get you anything?”

Lydia shook her head. “No… I’m fine. I just-” Something compelled her to go out on a limb. “JJ? Do you know if Jenna had any jewelry on her when she died?”

The blonde woman paused. “No. I can go check the record?”

“Please,” Lydia mumbled.

As she walked off, Gideon raised an eyebrow at her. “You think the unsub might have left a necklace on her person?”

Lydia just dropped her head into her hands. “I don’t know,” she huffed. “Looking at these random men isn’t helping. It’s the only lead I’ve got so just… go with me here.”

They waited a moment for JJ to come back in. “She wasn’t wearing any jewelry, but it looks like they found a broken necklace in her pocket.”

Lydia’s ears perked up. “May I see it?”

“I’ve got a picture?” JJ offered.

“Yes. That’d be great.”

Once again, she was gone and Gideon was more invested by the minute. “Broken necklace. That’s interesting. Perhaps he left it behind because it was broken?”

“Maybe he ripped it off her,” Lydia fired back.

“Here you are.” JJ dropped a picture of a beautiful gold chain with a small pink jewel attached to it. And Lydia finally felt some relief.

“What is it?” Gideon asked.

“This isn’t Jenna’s necklace.”

~ ~ ~

“Lydia believes that part of our unsub’s ritual is taking his victim’s necklaces and leaving them on the next one. Lucy Max didn’t have any jewelry on her when we found her, but Elizabeth Chang had a broken necklace in her pocket, which we can’t identify as belonging to her and Lydia claims the one in Jenna’s pocket wasn’t hers either. And since he took all of Jenna’s necklaces, it looks like he plans to drop one on the following victim as well.”

Hotch shook his head. “That’s a lot of faith to put in a random college student. This could very easily have been placed.”

“I trust Lydia,” Gideon declared. “You should have seen her on the scene, Hotch. She’s a natural at this.”

“Yeah. Maybe she’s been studying up on you. We’ve seen that before. You said you could barely figure this girl out, how do we know she’s not manipulating our case?”

“She’s not,” Gideon insisted once more. “Listen, I’ll strike you a deal. Look into this. For me. We think this guy gets his high off of leaving hints as to who he is. Start with anything that might have significance to a necklace. If I’m wrong, I’ll do all the paperwork for the next 3 cases.”

“And if you’re right?” Hotch asked, not sure why he was even considering a deal now. But he was curious. And Gideon seemed set on the idea.

“If I’m right, you have to offer Lydia a job.”

~ ~ ~

Lydia woke up once again without any recollection of having fallen asleep. This time, however, she wasn’t in a hospital bed, which was a relief.

She found herself on a couch. In the police station. She sat up, worried about how long she must have been there, but no one had kicked her out yet. So… hopefully not long?

That’s when she identified the sound that had awoken her. A soft knocking came from the doorframe of the room she was in. She whipped around to find an exhausted Agent Gideon waiting for her attention.

“Sorry to disturb you Lydia, but we’re headed back to the jet, so you’ve got to leave the station.”

“Back to the jet?” She jumped from the couch. “Did you find him?”

“Yes… You were right.”

Lydia wanted to say something but found herself tripping over her own tongue. It felt as if a wave was crashing into her back. She was being pushed forward, away from the distraction of finding who did this to Jenna and instead down into the ocean

Grief was a bitch.

“I… I was right?” she asked.

Gideon started to explain the man they caught to her. Jonathan Carrey. She heard the key words as he said them: necklaces, pawn shops, mother, college girls, confession. But none of them formulated the actual accomplishment Lydia had been waiting for.

“Oh…”

She couldn’t react. Not anymore. All her energy was wasted. She was free from the strong compulsion to find out what had happened to Jenna and left with determination stats in the negatives.

“Lydia, do you have somewhere to go for now?”

She nodded.

“Okay… get some rest. You did good today.”

She felt like she was going to be sick. You did good…

She’s still dead.

And after some hesitance, Agent Gideon was gone.

Lydia picked up her phone, calling a friend to see if she could stay for a few nights.

Process. Cry. Move on. Rest.

She really needed that right now.

“Hey,” a soft voice called as she hung up the phone. This time, it was the strangely silent Dr. Reid who was watching her.

He sort of peaked in and waited for a response or invitation. After she didn’t give him any, just a blank, detached stare, he came in on his own terms

“Uh, I thought you might…” he drifted off, judging her expression before continuing. “I thought you might want these.”

He held open his hand to show her a small, knotted collection of necklaces.

“We recovered them from Jonathan Carrey’s shop. I was considering giving them to Jenna’s parents, but when we spoke to them, they didn’t seem to know as much about Jenna’s jewelry collection as you. So, I figured you’d appreciate them more.”

Lydia took them from him slowly, wrapping the chains around her fingers. Unexpectedly, a few tears slipped down her cheeks, but Lydia let them fall. She deserved it.

“Thank you, Dr. Reid.”

It was peculiar, but as he left, a single thought ran through his head:

With everything Lydia had been through, that was the first time he’d heard a tremble in her voice.

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voltagesmutter · 4 years

Text

Shaw - Do you blame me?

Request for @blonde-asianpunk

My first experience with Shaw, hoping it fits his character.

Prompt: OC x Shaw (MLQC) fluff please, with the prompt, "do you blame me?" "I blame you for everything." Would be very happy with something long, but if that's too much, a drabble is fine! :D

Smut, Fluff and NSFW

You couldn’t say you was exclusive, but then in the next breath you wouldn’t say you was just fucking. But then you wouldn’t say you expected it to hurt so when you saw him flirting with another woman.

You could spot them lavender locks anyway, a small smile unconsciously forming on your face as you made your way over to him. You agreed to meet in a bar downtown, you were finally going to get an answer out of him about tonight.

Tonight was a celebration evening for LFG as all departments had exceeded their achieving goals and a few days ago you couldn’t contain your excitement to Shaw. You gave him a quick sneak peek at your dress and explained the whole event, although he didn’t look bored he also wasn’t thrilled with this conversation.

“I already told you, I think you look best with nothing on,” He teased as he lay on your bed, arms resting behind his head as he watched you.

“Ah yes, turn up naked to my work event, won’t I just be the belle of the ball,” You giggle back, putting your dress safely back in its place in your wardrobe.

“Well since you won’t show me you in your dress, I think you should get naked now instead,” He smirks, raising an eyebrow at his challenge. With a roll of your eyes, determined to never let this cheeky chappy win against you, you stand at the foot of your bed and fling your top off leaving your naked torso on show.

“No bra? You dirty girl,” He smirks, not moving from his position as he watches you slowly pull your jeans off before pulling your panties off at a slow agonising pace. You had absolutely no problem being naked around Shaw since most of the time you spent together you were naked or barely dressed, you felt comfortable around him in a sort of way.

“Well?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow waiting for his next move.

“Get your tight little ass here now,” He hums, his amber eyes admiring your body. You can’t help giggle as when you get close his arms pull down to lie on your bed with him, your lips meeting in a heavy passion.

You lay next to each other, not cuddling but in a close proximity, basking in your afterglow.

“Come with me,” You softly hum, turning onto your side to face him, ever so softly running your fingers in his hair that swept over his forehead.

“I already did,” He winks back to you and you slap him playfully on his chest.

“No, you knob!” You giggle, “To my work event,”. His silent reaction said it all. This was clearly just a sexual thing, nothing more.

“I’ll see,” Is all he says.

Moments like these are made you feel more than the pair of you was just fucking, sharing intimate and personal moments together. You and Shaw had met over 4 months ago at a nightclub, after some not so subtle flirting, a few shots and some erotic dancing, you ended up spending the night together. It was raw and passionate, he was beyond the best sex you had ever had. He was almost a clique of a bad guy, but there was something about him that you couldn’t place. Rather than wanting to get sucked into his bad boy ways, he definitely seemed the type to only hit that thing once with a girl, you snuck out of his apartment early the next morning as he was still deep in a heavy slumber.

You tried all day however was unable to get your handsome fling out your head and is by some higher nature when you was walking through the park later that evening, there he was. He was on a skateboard, effortlessly rolling along the pavement, heading in your direction. You weren't sure what to do, did you say hi? Oh yes that would be brilliant wouldn’t it, hiya didn’t expect to see you ever again I’m the girl who you made moan your name last night before ducking out your apartment this morning! You’d never run into a one night stand before, not that you had any before, this was your first one hence why unsure how to react this morning.

“Bella?” He called you as he came closer, taking out a black earbud.

“Oh hello,” You manage, your red flustered as he stopped, kicking his skateboard up to be held in his hands.

“You left this morning,” He said with a playful pout to wind you up, but you couldn’t help admire his beauty in the daylight. In the club it was very different, flashing lights illuminating colour against his skin, whereas now you were able to see the paleness of his skin being highlighted by that lavender iced hair. Your mind racing back to your previous night, how his face was in pure ecstasy as he thrust himself into you, enticed by your tight heat. You felt your arousal beginning to stir within you the longer you stare and the more your mind raced. Needless to say, neither of you could resist each other's charms in your conversation and before you could even think what was happening you were panting heavily in your apartment in his arms.

It was clear there was a spark between you, it felt almost electric. But Shaw's words hit you like a lightning bolt, ‘I don’t do relationships,’. So you both agreed this could just become friends (strangers) with benefits. You started off as just casual sex maybe once or twice a week but as your sexual encounters blossomed, each time becoming more passionate and intense from the last, you both found each other craving one another more and more until you doing the dirty together almost everyday. You got to learn more about him, both opening to each other about your lives and selves, adding an emotional side to your physical.

As time passed by you found yourself beginning to fall for the messy bad boy, something you had tried so hard not to do. But how could you not? Not when he invited you to watch his band play, an intense quickie in the venue's bathroom before he played, or when he would come to your apartment and talk to you about your day, sharing dinner before ravaging each other and waking up in his arms.

You found yourself missing him when he wasn’t there, the way his harsh tongue would banter back with you, both of you trying outwit each other. How you both pushed each other to achieve new highs and climaxes, Shaw could bring you a finish within minutes almost knowing your body perfectly. He reacted and acknowledged every little moan, whimper, hip thrust and twist to help bring you to an earth shattering release. You couldn’t even talk about the first time he went down on you, it was like electricity pumped through your veins as you saw flashes of white lightning in your eyes, an orgasm that left you a shiver wreck on your bed. You even fell for his little quirks, how he at times would drop his bad boy facade giving you an insight into the vulnerableness of him, or how we would pout slightly when you had to leave, how his ravenous kisses would be more tend and focused on your pleasure if you had had a long day at work. No, you found yourself completely head over heels for him, but his words always echoed in the back of your mind.

“I don't do relationships,”.

Whilst you knew you were on the path of getting your heart broken, you couldn’t stop coming back for more, he was like an addiction. Your body ached for his touches, he was like a high feeling that coursed through your veins, unable to cope when you had to go without him. Unable to stop yourself wanting more and more from him, you were like an addict unable to pull yourself away. But you knew Shaw would never commit to you or be yours and that was something you would have to accept, even though a small part of you had a glimmer of hope that maybe he felt the same towards you.

So when you waltzed into the bar, ready to ask him once more officially to join you tonight, it stung like a thousand wounds on your body when you saw him with a hand on another girl's thigh.

“Aside from being sexy, what else do you?” A hint of smugness in his voice. Your heart felt punctured but you knew this would happen, Shaw merely saw you a fuck friend, nothing more. And you, like the idiot you were, had fallen head over heels for him. You couldn’t admit it felt good to see the woman push him off her, her actions very clear for him to back off and leave her alone. Shaking his head and throwing his hands up in defence apologising, he turned around before his eyes settled on you and he made his way over, that eat-shit smug grin on his eyes.

“Ready to get out of here baby?” He asks, attempting to put an arm over your waist but you slap it away. You needed to end this before you got yourself into an even deep hurt.

“No actually, I- I um,” You start as his face twists into slight concern as his amber eyes met yours, “I, this is,”. But your interrupted by a blessing in disguise, a phone call from Victor. Holding up a finger to Shaw, you answer before stepping outside.

“Hello Victor?” You ask.

“You're still coming tonight?” His voice was stern and just like true Victor fashion his words were straight to the point.

“I am, yes,”.

“Are you still going alone?”. There was a slight pause.

“Yes,”.

“I’ll pick you up at 6, don’t be late,” With that he puts the phone down. Unsure of what just really happened you turned to see Shaw waiting impatiently for you still inside and you head towards him.

“Everything okay?”.

“Yeah I, um, I’m sorry I need to go,” You mumble, not wanting to talk or look at him as you turned to leave. You made it a few steps outside the building before his voice calling you and a gentle grasp holding your wrist.

“Whats going on?” He asks, turning you to face him. You couldn’t figure him out, he was happy to fuck you without a care but flirted with others still but acted like he cared for you. It made your head spin and you wished you never got yourself into this mess.

“I’m fine Shaw, just let me go,” You whisper, hoping he understood to free you from this tangled mess with him.

“Before you were going to say something?” His voice was soft, lowering his rugged persona that made your heart race. He fucked with your head, like he had with your body.

“I can’t do this Shaw, this whole fling? Casual sex? I can’t, I’m not like you, I have emotions and care for people,” You finally say with a deep breath, “Now please, let me go,”. You could see a hint of pain in his eyes, he clearly knew you saw him hitting on that other woman earlier whilst waiting for you but he slowly released his grip. You bit your lip and turned away, doing your best to hold back the tears as you walked away for good from the man who had your heart without even knowing.

Once home you prepared for tonight, today had not gone as you expected at all. You had just a tiny ray of hope that Shaw would message you, but you felt stupid because you know he wouldn’t. You style your hair into a chignon bun before applying the faint traces of make up to your skin. You stripped off and pulled your dress out of the wardrobe, the last time you had looked at it was the day you showed it Shaw and you had hoped to wear it with him tonight, but alas no. The dark purple v neck that plunged down your torso clung to your ample breasts, the chiffon skirt falling to the floor with its layers swishing every time you moved. You had to hold your skirt every time you walked, otherwise your lavender heels stepped on the skirt and would knock you flying off balance, although falling was clearly a special skill of yours.

“You look really… nice,” Victor said with a slightly smile as he greeted you outside your apartment.

“Thank you,” You smile, that was the closet you would get to a compliment from him.

When you arrived, you held onto the muscular but slightly tense arm of your CEO, a position any girl within the whole of loveland would be jealous of, but you don’t savour the moment of the handsome man escorting you. Instead your mind is occupied by the lavender haired boy you were unable to shake from your thoughts. It stung, but there was nothing there to be hurt over, Shaw made it clear he wasn’t looking to be with someone but he managed to fall head first into your heart.

“Will you at least try to smile,” Victor sighed, as he led you to the dance floor.

“Sorry, it’s just a lot of stuff on my mind,” You flash him a smile as he places a hand on your waist and the other entwined with your fingers. Placing your free hand on his shoulder, you let him lead you into the dance.

“I hope it’s about the report due on monday,” He chuckles, as you sink into his embrace, resting your head on his shoulder.

“You look really pretty for a dummy,” He whispers so quietly into your ear you almost don’t hear it. You actually enjoy your moment of sweeping across the room with Victor, it kept you distracted from thinking about Shaw.

But as you were lost in your thoughts, a young man with one of the purest beating hearts stood and watched you in the arms of another. Shaw. He watched from afar, dressed in a suit (Yes a suit) hoping to come and talk to you, but watching your smile and the way your face lit up with laughter against Victor's chest made him storm out. He knew he had no right to be jealous or angry, but he struggled not to be, the woman he actually felt things for was in the arms of another man.

He knew it was his fault after you saw him flirting this morning but he didn’t realise you were behind him, but not that that was a valid excuse. He argued with himself, how could be jealous over something he didn’t have, you weren't his and after the looks of tonight you never would be. It was true what he said when you first met about not doing relationships and he thought it still was, that was until he came back to you, never had he been with the same person twice but there was something special about you. Something that made his heart race, the smell of your perfume became his favourite scent, your infectious smile was the only thing he wanted to see when he woke up and when he went to bed. He enjoyed his time with you and not just the sex side of it, he wanted to learn all about you and become involved with your life. He never caught feelings ever, he was sure at one point he wasn’t even capable of feeling anything but then you came into his life and turned it upside down. The morning after the night you met, he thought you were a dream to start, a heavenly dream due to no trace of you being there when he awoke. But when he saw you down the street later that day, he couldn’t stop himself from heading to you and next moment you were once again joined as one in your apartment. He found himself craving your touch every second of the day, unable to remove you from his mind, all he wanted was you. He tried to keep his feelings at bay, hoping you didn’t notice the almost loving gazes he made at you when you wasn’t watching or the way he would wake up early just to admire your soft sleeping face.

The day you asked him to attend your work event threw him a little, he didn't mean to come across as a dick but he just sorta did. Of course he would want to go but he knew the questions would then start of ‘who is this?’, ‘is this your boyfriend Bella?’. Quite frankly questions he didn’t have the answer to. He never had a real relationship before, he literally was a hit and dip kind of guy and was worried of how that would play out with you. Would you feel the same towards him? Would you laugh in his face at the gesture of becoming a couple? These undoubtable thoughts lingered in his mind when he was alone, them being the reason he never pursued anything more with how he felt towards you.

Then earlier in the bar, it was a force of habit to flirt with the other woman, almost being a confidence boost (which was clearly unsuccessful). Never had you asked to meet in a public place before, you always met at either one's apartments so he was already having doubts about what was happening. The fact you were late as well, made him worry you weren't coming. Almost anxious and nervous, he tried the single flirting line on the woman to try calm himself but that was when he completely fucked everything up and he couldn’t stop kicking himself over it.

You slipped away at the free champagne, this had to have been your third glass and waviness started to kick in. Forgetting to pick up your dress as you walked, you stumbled forward until a pair of arms caught you.

“Dummy, come on lets get you some air,” Victor sighed, helping you to walk outside.

“I’m fine,” You pouted with a slight slur, trying to bat his arm away but he led you to some outdoor seating and made you sit down.

“Deep breaths,” He said, sitting opposite you as he watched you sway slightly.

“Have you ever been in love?” You hiccup, looking at him as an open eyed Victor looks at you in response.

“Bit personal don’t you think,” He mumbles.

“I think I am,” You say, a grin plastered on your face as you thought back to Shaw, “I really think I love him,”.

“Idiot, I don’t need to hear this,”.

“He’s so lovely to me, when he’s not flirting with other woman, but we’re not together you know?” You start, mumbling to him, “I just feel my heart flutter when I see him, and the sex, oh god the sex-”. A heavily blushing Victor coughs to interrupt you as he stands up, feeling rather uncomfortable.

“You’ve had too much, I don’t need to be hearing about one of my top employees sex life,” He shakes his head and goes to walk off but you grab his hand lightly.

“Victor, you know you’ll have a special place in my heart,” You softly whisper as you stroke your thumb over his hand.

“I know dummy, I know,” He says in response before walking back inside. And you’ll always hold my heart, he thinks to himself.

Taking your phone out you flicked through your photos, you had taken some of you and Shaw on the night you met, making you smile. He looked so handsome, just like he did in real life. Even a photo memory of him made your heart race at double time. You didn’t understand it, why if he didn’t feel anything towards when he had to have you nearly everyday? Why did he call you the nights he couldn’t see you? Why did each of your bodies respond perfectly to each other's touches? Why did you have to be so utterly in love with someone who didn’t love you back?

Lost in your thoughts you didn’t realise the tears that started rolling down your face. Without thinking you dialed a number, it took a few rings before the other end picked up.

“You're a dick you know,” You sob.

“Looks like you didn’t give two shits when being draped over Mr.Fucking Perfect Li,” Shaw spat down the phone.

A moment silence passed.

“How did you know I was with Victor…?” You sniffed.

“I-...Fuck, okay I came to see you, to talk to you but there you was in his arms,”. You bit your lip, he came to the event to see you?

“Shaw…”.

“What? You already told me what you wanted earlier,” His voice was harsh, not something you had heard from him before.

“Don’t turn this on me! This all started because you flirted with that woman first,”.

“Do you blame me?” He asks.

“I blame you for everything…”.

There was another silence between you two.

“Are you still at your event?”.

“Yes,” You hiccup and you hear his laugh ever so lightly down the phone.

“I’ll be there in 10, wait out front for me,” And puts the phone down.

Wiping the tears away, you take a few deep breaths to try to regain the situation before exiting the event and there he was. Standing there in open white shirt with a black t-shirt underneath, his leather jacket over the top and his skinny jeans, the man you so desperately seeked.

“Shaw…” You cry and he turns as you run into his arms, him slowly embracing you as you nuzzle yourself against his chest.

“Your freezing,” He mutters, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around you, “Let’s get you home, you stink like booze,”.

“I might be just a little drunk,” You giggle, making a pinching gesture with your fingers. He watches you stumble slightly and rolls his eyes, picking you up and carrying you home.

“I can walk!” You pout but throw your arms around his neck, “I don’t understand you,”. Your face rests against his chest.

“I’m no good for you,” He responds.

“I’m no good without you,” You mumble and he stops, looking down to your face. Gone was his harsh look, instead a softness melted over his face with a subtle smile.

“There’s just something about you that makes me lose myself with you,” He whispers softly. You hiccup, ruining the soft moment between you as Shaw sights, “Your drunk”. He carries you home in silence before dropping you outside your door.

“Please, don’t go,” You reach for his hand to stop him leaving.

“Your drunk, I might be a knob but I’d never take advantage of a drunk woman,”.

“One I’m asking you to stay, nothing more, and two I’m not drunk! I might have been tipsy but the air smacked it out of me,” You say, unlocking your door and walking in. Shaw follows and shuts the door behind him.

“Coffee?” You ask, walking into your kitchen and flicking on the kettle.\

“Bella, what are we doing? Half an hour you were crying down the phone to me how you blamed me for everything and now you want me to stay?” His voice full of confusion, met with his confused gazed. Taking a deep breath, you lean against your kitchen counter, it was now or never.

“I thought we had something happening between us, I know, I know what you about how you felt about relationships, I just felt like maybe there was something,” You bit your lip and tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “I guess I developed feelings for you and seeing you flirting with that woman just kinda summed it up how you feel,”.

“You have no idea how I feel about you,” Shaw quickly responds, closing the gap between you as he lifts your head with his hand to meet his gaze.

“H-how do you feel?” You swallow and feel like your heart is going to break out of it case.

“That you are the only person for me, that you are meant for me,” He ever so softly strokes your face.

“Shaw, I love you,” Tears begin to form in your eyes at his confession.

“I love you too,” He answers back, pressing a loving kiss to your lips. You wrap your arms around his bringing him closer to you as his arms wrap around your waist. Your kiss deepens as he slips his tongue into your mouth, his fingertips gently digging into your waist. You guide him walking backwards, neither of you leaving each other's lips as you enter your bedroom.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look?” He breathless whispers as he places kisses against your neck, making you moan.

“I can’t believe you came tonight,” You manage, tugging at his shirt to lift it off.

“Suit and everything,” His shirts quickly removed.

“God damnit, I missed a suit?” You gasp as nips at your neck with a chuckle.

“Yep, I’ll have to make it up to you,” His lips once again finding yours as he reaches behind for your zipper.

Even though you had some more time than you could count, you took tonight to savour each others touch and kisses, admiring each other's bodies. Shaw nestled between your legs, using one hand to guide him against you as the other intertwined with your fingers. I love you, he grunted before thrusting into you, a moan of his name falling from your lips. He took his now free hand to cradle your face, sharing sweet kisses as he slowly rocked against your hips, taking all of time to make love to you. He kept eye contact with you as he continued at a steady pace, neither of you rushing to chase your highs instead just enjoying the intimacy.

“Shaw! I-I’m gonna,” You moan, throwing your back with a arch in your back.

“Me too,” He groaned, with two more thrusts both bringing you to earth shattering releases as his lips pressed against yours. He holds you in his arms afterwards, not wanting to let you out of his arms.

“I love you,” You yawn, as you drift off peacefully against his chest.

“I love you too,” He whispers softly, pressing gentle kisses to your hair. He stays for a while to watch you peacefully sleep, whispering sweet words against your hair. For tonight he would cherish and shower you in love, before returning to his normal bad boys persona in the morning, however this time he would have his perfect woman by his side. Shaw saw nothing else in the world that came as close to importance to you, but he wouldn’t tell you that, he had to keep you on your toes somehow with him. But all that mattered was that you loved him and he had loved you the minute he saw you.

#mlqc #mlqc smut #mr love queen's choice #mlqc shaw #mr love shaw #mr love queen's choice shaw #mlqc victor #mr love queens choice victor #mlqc fanfic #mlqc fluff #mr love smut #mr love fluff

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multifandomfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Show Me How You Burlesque

TITLE: Show Me How You Burlesque PAIRING: Spencer/OC RATING: T CHAPTER: One-shot SUMMARY: A case causes Spencer’s personal and professional lives to collide.

[A/N - I have no shame. I love the movie Burlesque and this idea came to me. I imagine the first dance to be like “Express” and the one at the end is the waltz to “You Don’t Own Me” from Dancing with the Stars.]

Spencer, Emily, and Morgan entered the club.

Emily and Morgan looked around at the scantily clad women serving drinks and dancing on stage.

“Hey, you gonna pay or what?” The young woman at the ticket booth had bright red hair and tattoos everywhere.

“FBI,” Morgan said, showing his credentials.

“Don’t matter. You wanna step past this point, you pay.”

Spencer walked up to the booth. “They’re on me, Red.”

The woman, Red, smiled and took the twenty from Spencer. “You and your friends enjoy the show, Dr. Reid. Would you like me to inform Amber you’re here? She doesn’t go on yet.”

Reid nodded.

“Right away, Dr. Reid.”

Red disappeared as the trio ventured deeper into the club.

“You gonna explain to us why you know her? And who’s Amber?” Morgan asked.

Spencer said nothing and leaned up against the bar. There was a loud squeal and a blonde was climbing Spencer like a tree. His arms supported her as she pressed her lips to his.

“What are you doing here! I thought you were working?”

“Well I couldn’t pass up a chance to see my best girl.”

Amber rolled her eyes. “Such a charmer you are!”

Spencer turned and placed her on the bar. He tried (and kinda failed) to ignore the fact that her boobs were level with his face.

“I’m Derek Morgan and this is Emily Prentiss. We’re with the FBI.”

Amber let out a small laugh. “I know who you are. Spencer talks so fondly about you.”

Looking at Spencer, you could tell he was head over heels for her. His hands held her waist and the way he smiled at her…

“Oh! I need to finish getting ready! I’m up next.”

Spencer helped her down from the bar.

“Billy! Get my guests anything they want!” Amber kissed Spencer and then disappeared into the dark club.

He looked over at Morgan and Emily who were looking at him shocked. “What?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Amber came out on stage wearing a black and purple corset with frilly black underwear. On her hands were a pair of fingerless gloves and she wore a police cap on her head. She found Spencer in the crowd and winked.

Her routine involved a chair and Joan Jett’s “I Hate Myself for Loving You.”

Derek had to hand it to her. The girl could move and Spencer could not take his eyes off her.

After finishing her routine and changing, she came out to see a group of girls crowded around Spencer. “Girls! You know he’s all mine,” she said, sliding her arm through Spencer’s.

“Oh we know. We just like looking at him.”

“Those eyes.”

“Those curls.”

“Those cheekbones.”

“And we can’t forget that brain of his!”

Spencer laughed uncomfortably and blushed.

“Is there somewhere quiet we could talk?” Emily asked.

“Yeah,” Amber said, “Um, this way.” They walked into the manager’s office and Amber turned to them. “So how can I help you?”

“You might want to sit down,” Spencer told her.

“No. What is this about?” This was starting to scare her.

“Amber, when’s the last time you spoke to Molly Versalis?” Morgan asked.

“Last night.”

“Amber, Molly was murdered last night,” Spencer said.

Amber let out a laugh. “Very funny, Spencer.”

“I’m serious.”

“Stop kidding around, Spence.”

“Dammit Amber! I’m not kidding!”

The three of them watched as tears filled Amber’s eyes. “No. Oh my god. No.��

“I’m so sorry.”

“No!”

Spencer wrapped his arms around her and she buried her head in his sweater. He stroked her hair and hummed to her to try and calm her.

“We’re gonna need you to answer some questions,” Derek said, softly.

Amber sniffled. “I want Spencer in the room.”

“Of course. I’m not leaving you baby.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Half an hour later, they were walking into the BAU.

Everyone’s head turned towards her. It was different when she was on stage. She didn’t want these people looking at her. Amber turned to leave, but Spencer grabbed her.

“You can do this.” He led her past the other agents to Hotch and Rossi.

“I’m Agent Aaron Hotchner and this is Agent David Rossi. We’re very sorry for your loss.”

“I know who you are,” Amber told them.

Hotch and Rossi looked at her.

“Spencer talks about you a lot.”

The two men looked at Spencer for an explanation.

“Amber and I are dating,” Spencer said.

Morgan and Emily noticed how nervous Amber looked. She had her body angled towards Spencer and she struggled to meet anyone’s eyes. Where had the confident girl form the club gone?

“I thought we’d ask you some questions in my office. There’s no need for an interrogation room.”

“Maybe I should have left my costume on,” she joked, earning a laugh from Spencer.

“Costume?” Hotch asked.

“I’m a burlesque dancer.”

“How exactly did you and Spencer meet?” Rossi asked.

“Mutual friend. She mentioned she knew this really cute FBI agent. They met on a case.”

Spencer blushed.

“Right this way,” Rossi said.

The two of them followed him to his office.

Amber and Spencer sat down on the couch.

“Can you tell me about last night?” Rossi asked.

Amber shrugged. “It was just like any other night.”

“Was there anything out of the ordinary? Anyone acting weird?”

“Not really.” She paused for a minute.

“Amber, what is it?” Spencer asked.

“Um, sometimes guys get handsy. They forget we’re not strippers and they think we owe them or something. There was this guy bothering Molly, but I brushed it off. Oh my god! If I had stepped in…”

“He might have killed you,” Rossi told her, “Can you describe the man?”

“It’s dark in the club, but I remember he had dark hair. His build was also similar to Spencer’s. Tall and lanky.”

“Do you remember any defining traits?”

“He sounded funny. Like he had an accent or maybe it was speech impediment. I don’t really remember. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful.”

“You did your best,” Spencer reassured her.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It didn’t take long for the BAU to find Molly’s killer. He was a crazed fan who killed her because she rejected him. He was also suspected for the murders of a few prostitutes.

In honor of Molly (and to thank the BAU), the club decided to host a charity night to help Molly’s parents pay for her funeral. Only FBI agents and police officers were allowed in as part of the special night.

The BAU arrived and was escorted to the front row.

“Any idea what your girl has planned?” Morgan asked.

Spencer just shook his head.

The stage lights came up and all the girls stepped out on stage dressed in different FBI and police outfits.

Amber stepped forward. “The girls and I would just like to say thank you to the brave agents in the FBI and our local law enforcement. Without you, Molly’s killer may have never been caught. Thank you for keeping us and the rest of DC safe. To kick this night off, we’d like to invite a few guests up to the stage. So, ladies and gentlemen, please help us welcome Dr. Spencer Reid and Derek Morgan of the Behavioral Analysis Unit!”

Spencer was shaking his head while Hotch and Rossi laughed.

“Girls?” Amber asked.

A handful of dancers grabbed the two and dragged them on stage.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked her.

“Remember that dance I showed you? The waltz?”

Spencer nodded.

The music started and they danced around the stage, their eyes never leaving each other’s.

#spencer reid #spencer/oc #spencer reid imagines #Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagines

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