#genuinely took me so long to figure out how to draw king like it’s not even funny | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

infinitesuckuyome · 3 years

Text

Puppyboy Tobi

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact:

ᴥ Tobi is such a cute and loyal puppy, always so hyper & affectionate

ᴥ He’s constantly on you and hates to be apart for too long- it’s really hard on him when you have separate mission assignments since he can hardly think of anything other than getting back to you as quickly as possible

ᴥ Needs to hear your pretty soothing words, craves your delicious scent- the memory alone has him drooling & whining into his pillow

ᴥ Loves to wrap himself around you to lave heavy stripes up your neck, nose pressed to your pulse point

ᴥ Can’t hold back happy moans when you run your fingers through his hair while he lays in your lap or nuzzles against your chest, it makes him feel so safe & cared for

ᴥ Praise isn’t something that Tobi will specifically ask for but it’s something he deeply craves, he’s never had much positive reinforcement so it just blows his mind when you tell him how well he’s doing or when you call him your good boy

ᴥ He’ll blush so pretty & doesn’t know what to do with himself because on one hand your words are bringing him so much comfort that he wasn’t aware he desperately desired- and on the other hand all your praise/encouragement is getting him so worked up that he’s starting to feel a little feral

ᴥ Body Worship King [both giving & receiving, he needs both] It’s important for him to feel that you like his appearance and genuinely find him attractive- becomes putty in your hands when you tell him how cute / adorable / sexy he is

ᴥTobi is insecure about a lot, so your words of affirmation mean the world to him, especially if/when he decides to take his mask off infront of you for the first time

ᴥHe needs reassurance that you’ll accept his scars / past and won’t change your mind about wanting to be with him- he’ll be beyond happy since all he’s ever wanted is to be loved & accepted

ᴥ When you first started to be intimate, Tobi was so nervous and embarrassed to tell you that he was virtually inexperienced- he was very grateful with how sweet & patient you were with him while he fumbled and figured out how to make you feel good too

ᴥ He’s so lovestruck especially when he draws out those beautiful noises you make when he’s buried between your thighs or when he’s rutting into you

ᴥ Total Service Top, he gets off on getting you off- has cum from eating you out on more than one occasion

Warnings: Language, NSFW, Petplay, Praise Kink, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Unprotected Sex

It had been a little more than three weeks since you had been sent out on a solo mission and Tobi was losing his mind. He kept telling himself to be patient & that you’d be home before he knew it, but at this point, he wasn’t thinking rationally anymore. With each passing day, the hours seemed to go by slower than the one before, while his need for you grew by the second. This was the longest you’d been apart since the two of you had gotten together- the separation anxiety was suffocating, he misses you so much and fuck did he need your touch.

He flopped down onto the bed, groaning into a pillow when memories of your lovely face and beautiful body came flooding into his mind. Tobi tried to think about anything else but found that despite his best efforts, every train of thought just brought him back to you. He felt painfully hard & with a pitiful whine, he glanced down at the large damp spot that had formed over the straining erection in his pants.

“Y/N-Chan will be home soon” he muttered to himself, gnawing at his lower lip. Though he knew those words were true, they did nothing to curb his need, especially since every passing thought of you had his ball clenching.

Giving into his base needs, he walked over to your dresser to fish out a pretty pair of your lace panties. He gripped the fabric tightly, letting out a shaky breath as he recalled the numerous times he’d taken them off of you and how delicious it looked when they were sticky & soaked with your arousal.

With a deeply flushed face, he went back to sit himself on the bed- hastily pulling down the waistband of his pants as he wrapped the fabric over his leaking head. Tobi hissed when he felt the delicate fabric rub against his skin but it just wasn’t the same- not nearly as soft as he’d hoped and nowhere near as warm. He winced, every sensation suddenly feeling too rough & it made him miss you that much more. In a desperate attempt to relieve the ache between his legs, Tobi closed his eyes and grit his teeth as he pumped himself furiously.

* * * * * *

After an absurdly long walk, you’d finally made it back to the Akatsuki hideout, breathing a sigh of relief when you were inside the main entrance. It seemed unusually quiet, you figured that most of the other members were off on missions of their own, but you were surprised Tobi hadn’t greeted you at the door like he normally did. You pouted, but shrugged it off, thinking he may have taken on an extra mission or was simply busy antagonizing one of the other members- either way you were just glad to finally be able to relax and unwind. After hanging up your cloak, you made your way to your room, eager to spend some time in your own bed.

A quiet gasp left your lips when you opened the door to your bedroom, eyebrows shooting up at the sight before you. Tobi’s eyes were squeezed shut while he roughly fucked his fist against your favorite pair of panties- grunts and whines of your name tumbling out of his mouth. You bit your lip at how adorable yet how lewd he looked, vigorously rutting into the now tattered fabric, With a slight shake of your head, you called out to him “Tobi, I’m home!”

“Y-Y/N-Chan!” Tobi yelped, covering himself with a nearby pillow. His eyes were wide, eyebrows furrowed - he was torn between wanting to run to you and trying to hide the evidence of what he’d just been doing. He had the decency to be embarrassed by how needy he was, hanging his head as a deep blush crept its way up his neck.

Your expression softened, knowing you shouldn’t be too hard on him- you knew how he got when you were away for too long. “Why are you hiding, puppy? Did you do something bad?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow as you made your way over to him.

Tobi whined, not wanting to look you in the eye. He clutched the pillow to himself tightly as a wave of embarrassment and shame washed over him.

“Give me the pillow, puppy” You sighed, feeling his grip loosen. You gently took the pillow from him, pursing your lips as you removed the shredded lace from his reddened cockhead. “I really liked those...” you tutted, flinging the material towards the waste bin.

Tobi glanced at you hesitantly, searching your features for any sign of disappointment or anger- when he found none, he finally lifted his head to meet your gaze. “Sorry” he mumbled, shifting slightly to adjust his insistent erection.

“Awe, it’s okay, you’re still my good boy” you cooed, affectionately carding your fingers through his hair. “Such a big boy too!” you giggled, eyeing the heavy way his dick twitched between his legs.

Tobi perked up at your words, relieved you weren’t upset with him. “Tobi missed Y/N-Chan so much!” he said nearly bouncing in his seat.

Any fatigue you’d felt from your trip melted away when you saw the twinkle in his dark, eager eyes. “I missed you too” you husked, sinking down to your knees. “What a pretty cock, can I play with it?”

He nodded frantically, digging his nails into the bedsheets. “Yes, yes! Tobi wants to play!” His heart thumped loudly in his chest, excitement and lust nearly making him tremble when he felt your warm breath just inches away.

“Mhm” you mused, taking his shaft in hand, licking a long slow stripe from the base to his head. You looked up at Tobi as you swirled your tongue around his reddened tip.

He let out a choked out groan, nearly falling backwards at the inviting warmth of your mouth, barely catching himself on his elbows- propping up just in time to see your head begin to bob. His eyes rolled back at the way you worked his dick, moaning loudly when you hallowed your cheeks.

Your fingers grabbed at his thighs, eyes fluttering closed as you set a rhythmic pace- taking in as much of his length as you could.

Tobi panted as he watched you, feeling delirious with pleasure that was steadily bubbling up within him. “S-soo good!” he keened, instinctively bucking his hips.

You hummed in response, happy to see your puppy getting the attention he needed. You sank down on him until your nose grazed the soft hair at the base of his cock, feeling the stretch of your lips accompanied by the slapping of his fat balls against your chin.

Taking one hand off his thigh, you moved it to cradle and massage his neglected balls, noting how heavy they felt in your palm. “Ngh- Y/N-Chan!” he howled, tossing his head back. “Cu-cumming now!”

Tobi came almost violently- weeks of being pent up all channeled into the thick, hot ropes currently swelling your mouth. You’re mildly shocked by just how much there was, swallowing around him as best you could, yet still unable to stop the steady stream that was seeping past your lips. You coughed a few times after finally pulling off his softening cock, strings of saliva still connecting you to him.

“Tobi’s Turn!” he panted, grabbing at your forearms to haul you onto the bed.

“Ah!” you squealed, suddenly laying on your back with Tobi hovering over you.

“Y/N-Chan is home, never letting you go!” he whined, kissing and lapping at anything he could get his mouth on. “Gone for too long..” he pouted, pushing your shirt up to bury his face between your warm breasts.

“I’m sorry puppy, I'll talk to Pain so it doesn’t happen again.” you assured him.

He tensed up, growling at the mention of another male’s name, “No Pain, only Tobi!”

You smiled, almost forgetting how territorial your puppy was. “Only Tobi.” you cooed, cupping his cheek.

He nodded in approval, nuzzling your palm as he tugged down your bottoms. He settled between your thighs, drooling at the sight of your drenched panties. Pressing his nose up against the growing wet spot, he flicked his tongue over it as he breathed in your scent. “Off!” he grunted, not wanting to destroy another pair of your underwear.

You lifted your hips, allowing him to drag them down your legs- casting them aside, along with your discarded shorts. He ran his tongue through your folds, moaning at your taste, feeling the blood rush straight to his crotch. He pulled back for a second, wanting to spread you open with his fingers. “Pretty!” he cried, eagerly diving in to lave over your clit.

He dug his tongue into your bundle of nerves, kneading at the plush skin of your thighs as he dragged your hips up and off the bed- nudging his chin forward to drive his tongue in as deep as it would go. Tobi savored every minute of it, shutting his eyes to immerse himself in your heat, nuzzling his nose against your swollen clit. He continued his relentless lapping, holding you flush against him- brain so focused yet hazy at the same time.

You tugged at his hair, feeling so dazed, you weren’t sure you could form words, settling instead for writhing & sloppily rocking your hips.

Tobi’s eyes snapped open, cock jolting at the way you were responding. Pride bloomed in his chest when he felt your legs begin to shake, high-pitched moans of his name freely falling past your lips. “Cum for Tobi!” he groaned, doubling down- watching every twist and writhe, taking in every sweet cry you gave him.

“Puppy!” you wailed, thrashing against him as wave after wave of pleasure tore through you.

Tobi humped the mattress, slurping lewdly while you shook and cried in his grasp. You tried to push him off but he wouldn’t budge- opting to suckle at your pussy lips before sealing his mouth over your poor swollen clit. Your taste was driving him insane, he didn’t stop even when you sobbed and whimpered out a “too much!”. He just kept sucking and rolling his heavy tongue over you, reveling in the way your body twitched and spasmed.

“Not enough, need more!” Tobi grunted, taking one of your ankles in each hand to spread your legs apart. He thrust his leaky cock against your little bud, rocking back and forth to feel the pulse of it against his slit. He growled, the slickness of you making him feel near feral with need- he quickly lined himself up with your entrance, slamming into you until you cried out.

Tobi’s head spun as he sank into your tight heat, keening at the way your were sucking him in. His cock throbbed with arousal, loving the loud squelching of your pussy, knowing he was the one who’d made such a mess of you.

You whined, lower lip trembling as you teetered on the edge of consciousness. Tobi’s crazed thrusting sending shockwaves through your overstimulated body. “P-please” you stuttered, struggling to keep your eyes open as your puppy continued to plunge into your gummy walls.

Everything felt so messy and hot, Tobi’s head tipped back when he felt you cream around his length. His sanity slipping a little more with every tremor and gush of your sweet pussy, making something snap inside of him. He frantically pumped into you, the harsh snap of his hips making you gasp and seize. “Hold on- hng- so close!” he said through clenched teeth. He dropped your legs, pushing your knees up to your chest, curving his form over yours- driven by pure hunger and the instinct to fill you up with his cum & breed your pretty cunt.

Your vision was blurring in and out, hips aimlessly rutting against him- feeling like a ragdoll in his grasp. Animalistic thrusts causing your body to jolt against the bed springs. “Good boy- ah- such a good boy!” you babbled.

“Tobi is a good boy- Y/N-Chan’s good boy!” he pants, reaching between you to rub circles on your clit- determined to tip you over the edge one more time before reaching his own breaking point. With every thrust, a yell is dragged from you- body shaking uncontrollably as your vision goes white.

“Fuck! Fuuuuck!” Tobi growls, feeling your pussy flutter and convulse around him- his lower half completely drenched with the fluids you had just sprayed all over him. He drives in and out of you with reckless abandon, swearing he’s beginning to see stars. He bites down on your shoulder, grumbling fucked out moans against your skin as thick spurts of his seed paint your insides white.

You shiver when he finally pulls out, clutching at him weakly when he uses his fingers to push his cum back into your cunt. “’S full”. you whimpered, completely limp and exhausted.

“Shh” Tobi cooed, kissing your sweaty forehead. “Sleep now, Y/N-Chan.”

#naruto #akatsuki #tobi #tobi uchiha #obito #obito uchiha #tobi x y/n #tobi x reader #obito x y/n #obito x reader #tobi smut #obito smut

475 notes · View notes

auckie · 2 years

Note

Do you have any more autism child stories?

i have so many, most either involve me genuinely believing im about to be killed as a consequence of doing something really batshit autistic or just being a huge bully and asshole in middle school (but like, in an autistic dipshit way). but the first two that comes to mind that's sorta on par with the cars post in terms of like, clusterfuck, is when this kid in my like elementary grade class didnt show up to school one day. turns out his dad passed away in a car accident, and so we were asked to make cards for him. i loooved to draw the stupid paul frank monkey

remember this thing? i would doodle it everwhere. so when it came time to do our cards, i put three of these things on the card, doing the 'see/hear/speak no evil' poses, and on the inside i think it just said like 'sorry your dad died </3' or something completely tone deaf. his best friend, who i had a huge crush on, stopped me and was like. no way in hell youre giving that to my best friend. his dad DIED. i don't remember if i turned it in to the teacher or not, but i do remember that i was really mad about it, and didn't understand what i did wrong, so come the end of the day, when we had to pick up and stack our chairs, i picked mine up and rammed it into him, ripping a hole in the ass of his pants. and for some reason, i didn't get in trouble. i never did despite like physically aggressing kids in front of teachers all the time, because i was smart and shy and i think they must've assumed i was just defending myself? not true at all. anyways, this second part isn't directly related, but they happened within days of each other and so i assumed it was like punishment for my actions: my mom left some country crock lemonade powder out on the kitchen counter one day, and i took a huge scoop and ate it raw right before she walked into the room and said 'oh yeah, don't use that lemonade powder because i poured paint thinner in it.' and then walked out. and i like. yknow i was like. tails gets trolled horrified face! my dad was always joking about paint thinner related deaths, so i KNEW, i knew if i had ingested it i was done for, but i didn't really understand how long it would take, or how i would feel because i was too little to think about these things critically. so i assumed i was going to die, but i was too shy/sad/embarassed to say anything about it, and for the rest of the week i was like writing out my own eulogy, last will and testament, my last rights etc. and i had this little magic 8 ball toy from mcdonalds-- it might not've been a magic 8 ball, bc i remember it being both dexter's lab themed and also lion king themed...but regardless, it was something that answered 'yes/no/maybe/try again later' when shook or spun or whatever. and i kept referring to it like it was Gd's way of speaking to me, trying to figure out when i was going to finally hit the bucket. i was my name is earling everyone too, and they took notice bc i would leave like little chocolates at my parents bedroom door like a cat leaves a dead bird for its owner, and when i they finally beat what was wrong out of me, my mom LAUGHED! at me being so absurd. like i didn't think i was going to fucking die for a solid week as punishment for shoving a chair leg up another kid's ass, for trying to prevent me from mocking his dad's death.

78 notes · View notes

nopelleen · 3 years

Text

Perish, Pretty Please (5/5)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Rick Flag was known to be a pretty good leader, it was the reason why he had been chosen to lead a squad of infamously reckless and idiotic criminals, however it was a lot harder to maintain his authority when one member of the team despised his guts for seemingly no reason.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Rick Flag x Reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.7k

ɴᴏᴛᴇ: it took me so long, but it’s finally there -- the last part! I started this fanfiction knowing I had a tendency not to finish them and I’m honestly so proud right now, I hope you’ll enjoy this last part as much as I enjoyed writing all of this! (also please let’s all have a moment of silence to remember the moment my hopeful, foolish ass actually posted the first part with “1/2″ in the title)

“Nope, there’s something we gotta take care of first."

You watched with blatant bafflement as the three men nonchalantly walked away from the blazing truck that had been transporting them merely minutes ago. There was almost a bit of disappointment in your heart as you watched the plan you and Cleo had so meticulously orchestrated on your way here vanish into thin air. It was a shame – your rescue plan involved a lot more wow factor. Had you known the outcome of this small drawback, you wouldn’t have put so much effort into it; but how could you have guessed the three of them would find a way out of a van guarded by multiples soldiers all the while handcuffed and therefore supposedly incapacitated? That was absurd.

“Don’t look so surprised, it’s insulting.”

You shot Flag a tight lipped, mocking smile as a response to his friendly jab, clearly recognizing the words you had used against him in the afternoon. Your sardonic grimace poorly mirrored the playful smirk the colonel adorned as he walked towards the van, and you were surprised to feel your heart swell a bit when you noticed his smile spread into a genuine one as he walked past you, slightly shaking his head in amusement.

Without even questioning how they had gotten themselves out of that prickly situation, you whirled around and followed suit as Rick climbed back into the van, telling Milton the small change of plan. That one enthusiastically nodded before happily informing the squad that you’d reach the city by dawn, making you realize you had spent a good chunk of the night at that bar and yet did not feel that tired yet – which might just have been from the adrenaline released into your system at the sight of your three teammates walking out of a blazing vehicle.

“You sleep, I watch Thinker,” Nanaue suggested as he heavily lumbered towards the back of the van, where the hostage was surprisingly staying very still, wise enough not to attempt anything while sharing the same space as King Shark.

Your steps faltered as you entered the van, your gaze hesitatingly flickering towards the seats in the back which appeared way too crowded for your liking. You usually would’ve simply gone back to your seat at the front, but Rick was now occupying the one near the window, probably as a way to stay close to the driver.

With a reluctant sigh, you were about to follow King Shark towards the back when Rick casted a pointed look towards you before patting the seat beside him in case you did not understand.

Relief washed over you and you didn’t even need to give it a second thought before flopping onto the space beside him, glad not to have to settle for a spot anywhere near Peacemaker. Your muscles were stiff as you quite literally bounced onto the cushion, and as soon as your back did as much as graze the backrest, the entire day of walk, hours of dancing and minutes of worrying about Flag’s well-being caught up with you with a dizzying speed.

If earlier that day you had been able to fight off sleep vigorously, you now found yourself melting into the cushion of your seat as soon as you flopped onto it. At first, you remained steadfast, refusing to yield to your basic human needs as you forced yourself to sit up straight, but then there was a strong gravitational pull making you sway a bit on your seat as your head started lolling forward, and then another pull – Rick’s hand, this time – gently steering you back into your seat. Incapable of fending off the drowsiness any longer, you surrendered and finally allowed yourself to loosen up, feeling your head snugly land upon Rick’s shoulder as you drifted off into a soundless sleep.

-----

“Outburst, hey!”

“She’s sleeping.”

From his seat at the very back of the van, Peacemaker frowned as he craned his neck in an attempt to peer at your figure still slumped over Rick’s shoulder. “Well, wake her up,” he groused, tinges of annoyance seeping from his usually polished tone. “She’s… spewing her emotions all over the place. It’s reeking of sadness in there.”

◦◦◦

“It’s reeking in there; crack a window open, will you?”

Your finger harshly jabbed the switch, your gaze remained firmly fixed on the buildings passing by in a blur as the window lowered just a bit in an abrupt, choppy motion. From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of your mother shooting you a brief, curious look. You hadn’t uttered a word ever since you two had left the family reunion. You knew it hadn’t been a good idea to agree to come.

The car then lapsed into another uncomfortable silence. You were both acutely aware of the thick, sweltering acrimony flooding off of you and yet still refused to address it, instead letting you bask in it with your mouth clamped shut, letting it gnaw your insides until your lungs felt charred, incapable of drawing oxygen any longer.

Why had you agreed to this? You were an adult; you didn’t need to expose yourself to this anymore.

You bit the inside of your cheek and tried to breathe in deeply, only for your chest to constrict, becoming painfully hollow. Tears started brimming at the edges of your vision and you finally allowed your lips to part, letting a bated breath stumble out of them with urgency.

“I heard you earlier.”

◦◦◦

“I’m not waking her up,” Rick scowled in one curt sentence, already feeling a bit on edge and therefore not wanting to dwell on the matter.

Peacemaker’s eyebrows furrowed even deeper at Rick’s unwavering tone. He usually dealt easily with negotiation and compromises, he worked well under authority and was a suitable soldier because of it, but at the moment, he couldn’t find it in himself to be patient – maybe because of how thick with tension the atmosphere had become because of you.

“We can feel her,” he insisted again, spitting the words out in an irritated hiss.

◦◦◦

“Honey, I can feel you, tone it down,” your mother complained as she kept her eyes on the road. Either your words went completely over her head, or she refused to acknowledge them, knowing that with the amount of resentment she could feel rolling off of you in waves, there was no way a discussion could lead to a good outcome at the moment. She was already having a hard time not letting the irritation get to her in spite of the smoldering atmosphere.

“I heard you talking to aunt Matty,” you reiterated. “You said it was my fault.”

“What was?”

“Dad leaving.”

The uttered words dropped like thunder in the car, leaving the air charged with electricity.

“I didn’t say that,” she rebutted with a bit of an acerbic tone. The tension was starting to get to her, slowly but steadily eating away at her mind in spite of her resolve. She could feel the resentment seeping into her like a foreign body infiltrating her immune system, but paradoxically, the angrier she got, the less willing she was to fight it off. “Don’t twist my words, you know I hate when you do that.”

◦◦◦

“I didn’t say she wasn’t allowed to sleep,” Peacemaker clarified, starting to sound a bit agitated as the tensed atmosphere got more and more on his nerves. “I’m simply saying she shouldn’t until we are.”

“She’s not hurting anyone.”

◦◦◦

“You said I was hurting him.”

“I said he was often on the wrong end of your temper. Listen, it’s—”

“Back off!”

◦◦◦

“Back off,” Rick sternly admonished him as soon as Peacemaker made a step towards the front of the bus, protectively wrapping an arm around your sleeping form. “She needs to rest. She got shot acting as a distraction so your team could make a smooth entrance, remember?” he reminded the man scornfully.

Peacemaker’s face remained calm in spite of the irritation coloring his eyes. His gaze briefly flickered from you to Flag, hesitating.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

◦◦◦

“You know how you made him feel,” your mother uttered, efficiently putting an end to the exchange.

You remembered the times during which you were moody, when you came back home after having spent the entire day feeling everyone’s emotions around you, when your father did as much as try to talk to you about it, thus instantly setting you off. He was always the spark that ignited you. Whether he was inquiring about your day, or commenting on your behavior, or even just standing a bit too close to you… He’d end up angry, hurt, aggressive – whatever you were feeling at the moment, he’d always end up feeling it too.

Your mother was just wise enough to stay away.

But you also remembered the shouts in the kitchen, the jabs, the constant bickering between them. You remembered listening to it from the stairs and then being blamed for their bad tempers. You’d be blamed for the anger, the aggressiveness, the slaps that so often echoed through the house.

She was wise enough to stay away, and yet be close enough when she’d need an excuse.

“It wasn’t just me,” you whispered through gritted teeth.

“I never said it was.”

“It was you,” you spat out as you whipped your head towards her. “You made him miserable.”

Your eyes were completely focused on her face, her pursed lips and closed-off features, and never once did you notice the way her foot slowly started pressing further onto the accelerator.

◦◦◦

You woke up with a start and instantly casted a frantic gaze around you, expecting the usual blaring horns and shouts that followed this exchange. You were surprised to find yourself in a safe environment, all wrapped up in an unexpected warm, comforting atmosphere. Usually, the second you woke up, your instincts picked up on the foul aura of anguish you had unconsciously secreted into the air, and yet, here, you could feel nothing but utter peacefulness.

One of your eyebrows formed an elegant arch as you lowered your gaze to glimpse at the warm weight wrapped around you, only for your eyes to land on a familiar calloused hand hanging from your shoulder and almost grazing your cheek. You felt a faint smile tenderly pulling at the corners of your lips before even turning your head to confirm the identity of the owner of the arm wrapped around your shoulders, and when you turned your head to direct your gaze towards Flag’s sleeping face, you simply found yourself incapable to fight it off anymore.

Then, with a fond smile pulling at the corners of your lips, you snugly nestled you head back into his side and shut your eyes, this time knowing for a fact that you wouldn’t risk infuse the atmosphere with anything else than a blissful quietude.

◦◦◦

It was chaos. Utter chaos.

Your car was long abandoned a few feet away from you, fuming after having hit another vehicle in the middle of an intersection. The driver who had started fighting with you was now in a fully blown-out fist fight with another man who had merely tried to step in for you, and the more people got out of their cars to understand what was going on, the more people got trapped under your influence and started fighting, some going as far as purposefully ramming their vehicle into another’s.

Your voice was hoarse from shouting at the driver who had first attacked you and you were now trembling with anger as you watched an entire riot unfold before your very eyes, unconsciously fueling it with intense waves of rage that'd hit any innocent that'd happen to walk a bit to close to the scene.

Someone gripped your shoulder and you tried to jerk away from the touch, whirling your head towards the person with your teeth bared, ready to attack whoever was trying to get your attention.

“Honey, focus on me, alright? Focus on me.”

The voice was rough, the tone frenzied, and yet when the hands grasped your shoulders, it was with an unexpected gentleness. The fingers were quivering with restraint, barely managing not to dig into your skin in an attempt to snap you out of it.

This staggering tenderness startled you so much that it managed to take you out of your trance for a fleeting moment, allowing reason to take over as you fought back the instinctive urge to shove the hands away. With frantic, brimming eyes, you diverted your gaze towards your mother, desperate for a comforting point of focus to latch onto like a lifeline.

A sob threatened to crawl up your throat as soon as you met her eyes. There, in the midst of all the hardly concealed anger – a glint of affection, a vacillating spike of tenderness battling to emerge from under all that vibrating rage your mind was forcefully pushing into her. With a choked-up breath of relief, you instinctively stepped forward, latching onto that abiding twinkle of kindness in spite of all that surrounding violence like a lifeline.

Then, when there was an anticipated screeching of tires coming from your side, a glimpse of grey metal flashing out of the corner of your eye, and an oh-so-familiar harrowing feeling of dread seizing your insides, you kept your eyes unwaveringly locked into your mother’s, resolutely shutting out everything else around you. You bored your gaze into hers and let your mind soak in her warmth.

The car never came, the shouts quietened down, your surroundings slowed down until coming to a complete halt, time stalled and your dream mercifully stepped away from your memories to spare you.

You stood there for ages lost into your mother’s loving gaze, until – having strayed too far from reality – your subconscious lost all senses of what was and wasn’t at the time and let the scene morph into whatever your mind desired. Then, when the voice spoke up again, it wasn’t your mother standing before you anymore, but a person you now trusted more than you ever thought you would.

“Don’t be scared of me.”

-----

“We need to help these people.”

The words went completely over your head as you despairingly gaped at the glass in front of you, feeling cold to your bones.

You had gotten a bad feeling as soon as the elevator doors had cracked open.

There hadn’t even been time to make a step forward before you had gotten hit by the foul, repugnant thickness sullying the air with a strength that almost had you rearing your head back a bit. For a dizzying second, the vile and nauseating reek had left you standing there, blearily blinking as your senses had desperately struggled to accommodate to the repellent atmosphere. Yet, in spite of the tears brimming at the corners of your eyes just from the sheer despondency emanating from the place, you had been far from imagining the atrocity, the barbarism of the experiments that were taking place down here.

Despite your reluctance, you had been forced to follow the others as they had stalked out of the elevator, engaging into the dark and humid place with feeble, hesitant steps. As you had all crossed the small entrance leading to the laboratory, you had needed to fight your instincts that they had urgently pleaded you to simply whirl around and run back into the elevator.

Every breath you had taken weighed heavily on your tongue, the pungency sticking to the walls of your throat and poisoning your lungs. Every other second you had spent down there had simply felt like another year taken off your life, the wretched atmosphere slowly eating away at your brain like acid.

In spite of all of that, it had taken some time for the horror to truly dawn on you.

The despair had crept into your heart with every step you had made into the cellar, and then, when you had gotten to the center of it, you had felt for the very first time of your life an intense claustrophobia swarming your heart. Surrounded by a sea of decaying bodies all bound together by the same searing, devastating agony, the hostile basement had quickly gone from a gruesome laboratory to a deadly trap slowly closing in on you.

With nothing but wandering bodies all around you, you felt at the bottom of a pit of wretchedness, your head swelling with an intense, overwhelming pain. It was as though you were entrapped in the center of a microwave which was channeling thousands of screams directly towards your brain instead of radiations, however one of them was significantly stronger than the others and seemed to come from the wide glass wall right in front of you.

“Impossible, dear. They’re corpses below those stars.”

In spite of the searing agony flaring through your chest, your heartbeat seemed to slow down and settle onto a numbing, soporific pace as you unconsciously started stepping towards the wide glass, as though bewitched by the heart-wrenching wail you felt coming from whatever was hiding in that liquid.

With trembling, tentative fingers, you lifted your hand and slowly pressed your palm against the freezing glass, yearning to soothe the poor sufferer from their wrenching agony. The pain only seemed to intensify at the touch, the feeling of desolation gripping your insides as your ears started ringing, completely isolating you from the others. There was nothing else in that room but you and a desolated martyr screaming with thousand of voices right into your mind.

You watched with mournful, brimming eyes as the dark figure behind the glass started stirring until a single, colossal eye revealed itself in front of you, appearing emotionless to any common spectator and yet emitting an amount of woe that would’ve had you on your knees had you not gotten so used to sensing people’s emotions.

“Outburst?”

Rick’s voice rose up right behind you but still didn’t startle you, your eyes riveted onto the creature before you with rapt focus.

“It’s in pain,” you croaked out, the faint words scraping your dry throat like some sandpaper grating your vocal cords. “It’s in so much pain.” You shifted your fingers a bit, as if trying to press your hand closer to the glass, get closer to that strange creature, completely blind to the danger it represented. The tentacles, bumps and single eye did not matter – all you could see was the utter suffering it was in.

“Well,” the Thinker unabashedly butted in, “if I’m not mistaken regarding the purpose of your self-righteous egomaniacal mission – not for much longer.”

His words dawned on you with a dry clarity and had you shifting away from the glass in one brisk motion to whirl your head towards Rick. “We can’t kill it,” you asserted with an adamant, steadfast tone that did not match the slight waver in your voice.

“We have orders.”

Rick’s steadfast voice was way more convincing than yours, and what would’ve usually been a mere reminder of his status as colonel felt like a frustrating hindrance that only heightened the desperation swarming your heart and made you let go of the glass to tighten your fists as you turned around to fully face him.

“No, we can’t, we have to help it, it’s—”

“It’s dangerous,” Rick cut you off, his distrust-colored eyes briefly flickering towards the glass wall.

“It’s suffering!”

Your distressed screech echoed through the cellar, your plea painfully reverberating on the walls and splattering the frantic desperation dripping from your tone all around the basement.

For a fleeting moment, Flag remained speechless, as if hit with full force by the intensity of your despair. During that fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of the hesitation flashing in his eyes, the way he seemed to ponder over the situation for even just a second, wondering what to do and which way to choose. Then, his gaze flickered to the side, briefly meeting Peacemaker’s, and you were able to pinpoint the exact moment he put his guards up again, welding back on his old mask of professionalism to tightly shut out any emotion you could try to induce in him.

There was a subtle shift in his expression, so subtle you might not even have noticed had you not been so desperately seeking any trace of support on his features. Instead of showing the understanding you were so badly hoping for, the traits of his face hardened, the glint in his eyes dimmed, and then you weren’t standing before Rick anymore, you were facing the colonel, towering over you with his back straight and his orders engraved in his mind.

You were acutely aware of the fact that the mission outweighed you; you had just hoped Rick would hold enough respect towards you to give your words the slightest bit of consideration. Apparently, this respect only allowed you one minute of his time before he completely shut you out.

With a sharp, regretful sigh, he took a step towards you and grabbed your arm with a gentle reluctance that contrasted with the harshness of his tone as he said that you needed to go with the other team.

You tried to protest but his strides were long and hasty, and before you even knew it, he was punching the first-floor button of the elevator as you stood inside of it, stunned.

Just as the doors started closing before you, you feebly parted your lips to utter one last plead; your pained, wavering voice coming out laced with betrayal. “You said I could trust you.”

When he had seemed ready to turn away as soon as the doors started closing between you, Rick’s attention seemed to be piqued by your words as he shifted his gaze back onto you, lingering in front of the elevator for just a second more.

The distress coloring your eyes melted into a sullen resignation as soon as your gaze bored into his, your chest constricting with dejection. There, under the thick coat of seriousness, in the midst of all the restrained belligerence this place inspired him, no glint of affection was to be found, no spike of tenderness desperately trying to emerge from the vibrating anger – nothing but cold, glaring callousness.

Not Rick.

Colonel.

-----

“Where’s Flag?”

Bloodsport turned his gaze towards you, and you instantly recognized the apologetic look in his eyes.

As he grimly shook his head, you finally experienced it firsthand – the agony of a thousand people.

-----

“Apparently Waller sent something to his hospital room. People are joking and saying she sent flowers, but if you want my opinion the old hag probably sent him a reminder that his contract doesn’t cover paid sick leaves.”

The voice, just like the steps accompanying it, echoed through the corridor and kept getting closer to your cell, undoubtedly coming from yet another guard who’d attempt to get a word or a reaction out of you – anything that’d stop them from having to book in an appointment with the jail therapist.

You had seen many of them pass by while you had spent days in a temporary cell during your recovery but hadn’t thought they’d keep on sending them after having transferred back in your old cell this morning.

The landscape change didn’t make any difference for you, as you simply kept on staring at the wall for hours on end with the most irksome gloomy look clouding your features.

You couldn’t think about anything else than Rick.

You didn’t think you had even truly processed it yet. It had happened too fast.

Within the span of a few days, the colonel had somehow gained your trust, slowly leading you to warm up to him by showing you an affection you hadn’t experienced in years. It felt like he had turned your world upside down, made everything brighter with the prospect of saving lives alongside a superior who truly valued you, and then you had made the mistake of letting him out of your sight, forced to walk away from that dreadful laboratory for just a few minutes, and he had died there, the one person on this earth who you could genuinely trust now buried under the rumbles in that bottomless pit of agony.

You had mulled over it what felt like a thousand times already and you just could not figure out how to simply go on with your life. Not when your one chance at a brighter future had been squandered so violently as soon as you had turned your back to it.

Somehow, it felt like your fault.

You had been careless, unfocused. You had forcefully dragged Rick’s attention away from the mission at hand only because you were too weak to handle the downsides of your ability, your eyes pathetically overflowing with tears of empathy as the rest of your team simply tried to achieve the mission. You had distracted Rick as that one had been forced to take you to the elevator like a child, had unconsciously helped Peacemaker steal a secret file and forced Cleo to try and stop him on her own before Flag could come to her aid.

The file had been retrieved, but only after Bloodsport had stopped Peacemaker from coldly eliminating Cleo. Only after Rick’s body had already been left laying soundly in the laboratory.

They had fought with all their might for that file, for those values you had accused Flag of lacking merely days ago, and you hadn’t even been there.

It had been crushing to find out that the trust you held towards him had been misplaced, but it was nothing in comparison to discovering he shouldn’t have trusted you either.

You forcefully swallowed back the lump in your throat when you heard the steps finally come to a halt right by your cell and had a hard time concealing the startled look on your face when a very familiar voice rose up.

“Well well well, from what I’ve heard little princess doesn’t want to eat anymore?”

The hair on the back of your neck stood on end at the falsely dulcet tone dripping with a syrupy looking but dangerously abrasive poison. You had to keep yourself from gritting your teeth as your gaze caught up on Griggs’ silhouette standing before your cell from the corner of your eye.

“You’re not even gonna make an effort for me?” he teased you as his lips spread into a sneering smile that made him look more moronic than sadistic due to the absolute lack of sagacity behind his eyes.

You kept your mouth tightly shut and your eyes riveted to the wall across from you, trying to muster the blankest expression you could not to let him affect you but feeling a peeved expression weighing down on your features nonetheless.

“Aww, guys it looks like we’re gonna have to use the feeding tubes,” Griggs ironically groaned, turning towards his colleagues with a facetious glint in his eyes. One of them instantly stepped up to open the door to your cell, not even needing to think twice about the threat just emitted. “You know how much I hate doing that,” he then kept on jeering, much to the amusement of the other guards.

You waited with anticipation as he stepped into the cell, feeling your entire body buzzing with an overpowering apprehension, not having a clue of what you could do but knowing for a fact that with all the adrenaline slowly being spread into your system, there was no way you’d let Griggs go back to his old mistreatment.

His filthy fingers barely grazed your skin, and, as though electrified, you jumped to your feet, putting some distance between you and him. You kept your eyes determinedly fixated in front of you but could see from the corner of your eye how stunned he was by your abrupt reaction. He had gotten to the unresponsive side of you that had emerged after only a few months here, the poor figure staying down on the ground and no longer batting an eyelash at his constant abuse. His face remained dazed for a fleeting moment before the ghost of a smirk reappeared on his features.

After all, he had broken you once, it’d be no bother to do it a second time.

“What, you go on one mission with Task Force X and then you don’t like me anymore?”

He reached out a hand again, much more aggressively this time, and you jolted away, instinctively bringing a hand up without even knowing if you were willing to take the risk of hitting him.

“Step away from her, Griggs.”

The stone cold words loudly rang through the cell and heavily fell between you both, instantly followed by a deafening silence as Griggs’ hand hovered in the air for a fleeting moment, just inches away from the skin of your arm.

Then, for a dizzying, fleeting moment, it felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the cell.

Chill shivers of relief racked your spine before your brain even had time to process the voice, and then, when the familiarity of it finally sank in, you felt as though some freezing water had been dumped over you, leaving you soaked and shivering in the middle of your cell – only this time Griggs wasn't the cause of it.

You whirled your head towards the entrance of your cell with a vertiginous speed and had to bite back a choked-up noise from stumbling out of your lips when your gaze landed upon the owner of the voice glowering at Griggs with a murderous look in his eyes.

“You’re not supposed to be back yet,” Griggs pointed out sheepishly, letting his arm limply drop to his side now that his focus had been completely taken off of you.

“I was feeling better,” Rick informed him with a tight-lipped smile which then briskly dropped from his features. “Now stand down,” he repeated himself, his voice steadfast and as neutral as he could muster it. “I wouldn’t push my luck if I were you. I’ve seen what you did to her, and I’d love to show you what it feels like to be on the wrong side of the blade.”

The threat made the cell go utterly silent and for just a second, the sweetest second ever, all traces of amusement vanished from Griggs’ suddenly pale face. He looked started, nervous, oh so pathetic, and then when he finally regained his composure enough to quickly muster up the most serious look he could to paint on his pallid features, he had already lost all respect from every occupant of the room.

“You’d risk your job for a bitch who told you to eat shit five minutes into your mission?”

There was an imperceptible twitch on Rick’s features at the reminder. He had to briskly fight off a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips, but you could still discern the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes and had to swallow back a choked-up laugh – your heart swarming with a bunch of overwhelming emotions you couldn’t even identify at the moment.

His eyes briefly flickered to you. “Apparently,” he conceded with the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips, before he cast his gaze back on Griggs and recovered a cold, severe expression. “And, trust me, given how liked you are around here, I don’t think I’d risk more than a paid leave even if I attempted to murder you.”

Yet another sullen silence fell over the cell like a heavy fog, and this time, Griggs made the wise decision of not shattering it, containing his anger within a single huff before stalking out of the cell with heavy steps that made him akin to a stomping child. His colleagues briefly glanced at Rick, not quite knowing what to do, before meeting his eyes and promptly deciding to follow Griggs’ decision.

“You’re alive,” you breathlessly uttered as soon as you were both left alone.

“A bit roughed up, but yes, alive,” he winced back, turning his gaze towards you.

You knew he couldn’t feel the blissful exultation swarming your heart now that your ability was smothered by the collar secured around your neck, but you hoped he could see it in your eyes and in the way you just couldn’t seem to blink those relieved tears away.

Rick took a few steps towards you and let out a bated breath, as if he was finally allowed to exhale, as if he hadn’t been able to feel comfortable until standing near you again – and you then knew for a fact that if he couldn’t see the exultation in your heart, he at least felt it as well.

Without another word, he then tentatively brought a hand up before letting it hover uncertainly in the air. He seemed hesitant as if he wasn’t sure how to act anymore now that his mask of professionalism was gone, and you couldn’t help but let out a short chuckle. This was enough for a single droplet to finally fall from your brimming eyes, and the way Rick’s gaze seemed to soften even more at the sight of it almost led you to shedding a few more.

With utter cautiousness, he brought his hand to your face to brush the stray tear away and then left it there, his warm palm cradling your cheek.

“Looks like I’ve won again,” he said in a breath, the words merely stumbling out of his lips as if he were afraid to break that frail, tender moment of vulnerability between the two of you. His thumb gently stroked your cheek again and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, your gaze never once leaving his. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

You had once said that the only way for Rick to ever get close to you was for you to give out your last breath, and yet, ever since that very vow you had felt yourself ever-so-slowly opening up to him, as though there was something in the air and it was killing you softly.

Now that the sweet, sweet poison had filled up your lungs – all wrapped up in his arms and boring your gaze into his with a wide-eyed fascination – you chose to completely let go of that vow, braving the risk to perish and merely uttering back two candid, gentle words.

“Pretty please.”

tag list: @honovi18, @jackdanieltorrance, @mochminnie , @themightyredwood, @taternuts, @weallhaveadestiny , @derangedcupcake, @to-be-or-not-to-be-2021, @vvipgot7be, @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine, @lacontroller1991, @navs-bhat, @monkeyyellowsunshine, @ajeff855, @brokenwhitegirlsworld, @agirlonfire95, @kingtwhiddleston, @cluelessnitwhit, @davnwillcome, @xoxabs88xox

#dc #tss #the suicide squad #rick flag x reader #rick flag headcanon #rick flag imagine #rick flag fanfiction #joel kinnaman #suicide squad #rick flag one-shot #rick flag x y/n #rick flag x you #colonel rick flag

99 notes · View notes

homoose · 3 years

Text

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part II (x reader)

Summary: Spencer and reader spend a lot of time together. And then he spends some time away.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: typical CM violence, Spencer gets hurt but there’s no graphic descriptions

Word count: 5k

a/n: This chapter is a little bit of a different style, because it had a lot of ground to cover! So we’ve got a few different vignettes of their first few months together— first dates and sleepovers and Spencer’s first long case away. I also worked some requests into this chapter.

———

Y/N stretched out across the bed, humming and burying her face into the pillow. She sighed and then drew in a deep breath. Her eyes blinked open as she recognized the new scent on her sheets— cedar and spice and a hint of floral.

She moved her hand across the bed to find the sheets were cool, then raised her head to see the room was empty. The apartment was quiet, but the aroma of freshly brewed coffee crept in through the bedroom door left slightly ajar. She ran a hand over her face and reached for her phone on the bedside table, tapped the screen to check the time and saw a missed text from Anita.

Anita: How did it go???????

Y/N: Good! We talked a lot. And he spent the night.

Anita: W H A T

Anita: 🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

Y/N: Calm down. It was just a sleepover. Emphasis on the sleep.

Anita: Sure it was 👀

Anita: 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Anita: 🍆🍑🍒💦

Y/N: I’m going to mute this thread.

Anita: You’re such a prude!!!!!!!

Anita: But also

Anita: This mf is still on THIN ICE with me

Anita: So tell him to sleep with one eye open

Y/N swiped the message thread to mute the notifications and sat up to drop her legs over the side of the bed. She stood and did a cursory once over in the mirror above her dresser, retrieving the sweater hanging on her closet door and slipping into it. Then she padded to the doorway, pushing the door open and quietly moving into the living room.

Spencer was on the couch, still in her shirt, with a book in one hand and her favorite coffee mug in the other. Roald was curled up in his lap, fast asleep. Spencer turned the page of his book, then brought the mug up to his lips. The simple domesticity had her chest tightening, and she let out a small, contented sigh.

Spencer lifted his head at the sound, a smile stretching across his face as soon as he saw her. “Morning.”

“Morning.” She shuffled toward the couch, and he closed his book. She peered over the couch and gestured to Roald. “I see you’ve got a friend.”

“Indeed. I kind of feel like I can’t leave now.” He looked up with a small crease in his brow. “I made coffee. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she assured with a smile. “Nice mug.”

“I didn’t want to wake you up, but I didn’t want to go through your cabinets,” he explained, looking a little nervous. “This one was on the dish rack, so I figured it was okay to use, but I can—”

“Spencer.” She leaned against the couch and smoothed a hand over his hair, meeting his eyes and smiling gently. “Is there more coffee?”

He nodded and looked down at the cat on his lap. “Yeah, I— I’d get up, but I don’t want to disturb him.”

Y/N laughed and pressed a quick kiss to his hair before retreating to the kitchen. “Oh, of course. We wouldn’t want to disrupt the king.”

…

They spent the morning on the couch, reading quietly and sipping their coffee and trading the occasional smile. She tucked her sock covered toes underneath his thigh as the sunlight crept across the floor. He brought his hand to rest on her knee and turned to the last chapter of his book, and she wondered if he was consciously slowing himself down so that she could attempt to keep up.

Eventually, Roald yawned and stretched across Spencer’s lap, standing and hopping down off the couch in search of food. Spencer ran his hand down Y/N’s leg and circled his fingers around her ankle, rubbing his thumb lightly across the skin. She looked up from her book with a soft smile, wiggling her toes under his thigh.

She closed her book and sat up a little closer to him on the couch. “So. I’ve been thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous,” he teased.

“Ha, ha.” She rolled her eyes, and then her gaze shifted back to him and she chewed a little at the inside of her lip.

No matter how hard she tried to quell it, the idea continued to nag at her subconscious— that even though he’d poured his heart out to her, even though he’d said that he loved her… that somehow she was still building him up in her head, seeing things that weren’t there, and making this into something it wasn’t. She was well aware that getting too comfortable too quickly was a surefire way to scare people off.

“Our tea dates weren’t really dates,” she hedged. “So we haven’t really had a first date.”

He gave her ankle a quick squeeze. “No, I suppose we haven’t.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I don’t want you to think I’m in the habit of inviting men that I’m not dating to spend the night.”

He set his book on the coffee table. “Of course.”

“So, um.” She tilted her head and drew her brows together. She needed to hear it, directly from his perspective. “Are we— do you consider us to be, um.” She closed her eyes. “Are we dating?”

She felt him lean toward her on the couch, felt his warm palm cupping her cheek and his thumb stroking across her skin. She opened her eyes slowly to see him looking at her with a tentative smile. “I hope so,” he breathed.

She barely stopped herself from letting out a relieved sigh, slightly embarrassed to have needed the reassurance. He didn’t seem to notice, instead closing the rest of the distance between them to press a soft kiss to her mouth. Their noses bumped together awkwardly, drawing a laugh from them both.

He withdrew from her mouth, pressed a kiss to her bumped nose, and then sat back a little, considering. “If you’re free today, we could knock ‘first date’ off the checklist.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “You have a checklist?”

“Well, a metaphorical one,” he clarified quickly. “I’m not, like, keeping track in a journal or anything.”

She laughed, bright and loud and almost carefree, and then swung her legs over the side of the couch. “What did you have in mind, doctor?”

…

Spencer Reid’s idea of a perfect first date was the Smithsonian National Postal Museum, and it was just about the most Spencer thing Y/N had ever heard.

“I should have put two and two together with the no technology thing,” she surmised.

“I know letters have sort of gone out of fashion with the advent of phones and email, but— letter writing is an art form!” he defended, waving his hands. “And think about how incredible it feels to get something in the mail. You don’t get that same rush with a text message.”

She thought back to receiving a perfectly wrapped package with his handwriting scrawled across the brown paper. “Mm, you do have a point there,” she conceded.

He led her through the exhibits, explaining the various displays with more facts than the placards themselves could ever contain. She watched with a smile as he gestured wildly about with his hands, his eyes wide with the joy of sharing the information— of sharing it with her. She nodded, and mmhmmed, and asked the occasional question. But she was mostly just so unbelievably content to listen to him talk about anything and everything.

He stopped mid-sentence in the Serving the Cities exhibit, dropping his hands and looking at her sheepishly. “Sorry, I— I’m boring you.”

She drew her brows together in genuine confusion. “What? No, you’re not. I’d never heard of the, um— new— no. The— new tubes?”

“New York City's pneumatic tube system,” he offered.

She smiled gratefully. “Yes, the pneumatic tube system. Underground mail tubes moving at 35 miles per hour? That’s kind of amazing.” She shook her head. “Why don’t they use it anymore?”

“The Post Office Department suspended the service to conserve funding during World War I,” he explained automatically. “They restored partial service in 1922, but it eventually just became too costly to continue.” He seemed to catch himself, shaking his head and continuing, “But I— I’m sure it’s all here in the exhibits, I should just let you—”

She grabbed his hand, and he closed his mouth to stifle the rest of his rambling. She used her free hand to gesture around at the displays. “There’s a lot of information here, but to be honest, I— I haven’t really been looking at the placards.” She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as he stared at her. “I, um— I’d much rather hear it from you.”

She watched his eyes alight with surprise and wonder, and she wanted to personally fight anyone who had ever made him believe that he was boring. He took a step closer, eyes flicking down to her mouth, and her lips twitched up into a smile. He leaned down to meet her halfway in a sweet kiss, mostly just upturned mouths and huffed breaths.

He lingered slightly as he pulled away, still studying her with a little bit of shock. She intertwined their fingers, pressed their shoulders together, and nodded toward the next display. “So, what else can you tell me about the history of the mail system, Dr. Reid?”

The pair of them continued through the museum, their fingers threaded together and Spencer murmuring facts into her ear. They spent three hours walking through the exhibits, pausing here and there to gaze quietly at the details of a particularly interesting display. When they finally completed their circuit, Y/N insisted on visiting the museum gift shop.

There were postage stamp tote bags, mail carrier t-shirts, mailbox ornaments and more— all incredibly overpriced and generally ridiculous and not of interest to either of them. But the stationery display caught her eye— sets of parchment with embossed letterheads, fancy letter openers, and wax stamp kits. She ran her finger over the raised design on one particularly intricate stationery set, and Spencer peered over her shoulder.

“I’ve always enjoyed letter writing. Partly because I tend toward the arcane, but also because it feels… intentional and personal,” he explained. “It takes time, and energy, and care.”

“It’s a very deliberate and lovely way of showing that you care about someone,” she agreed.

“Mhm,” he hummed, smiling softly. “I still write a lot of letters to my mom. When she was still in Vegas and I didn’t see her very often, I wrote the letters because she didn’t always recognize my voice over the phone.”

He drew his brows together and ran his fingers along the top of the stationary display. “Now I write them so that she can have a— a sort of record of my life, I guess. So that hopefully when the memories aren’t there anymore, she can still read them and feel like she’s a part of the story.”

Y/N reached for his hand again, and he accepted it with a bittersweet smile. “We did the same thing for my grandma,” she told him, returning his melancholic smile. “Lots of letters and photos. I never thought of it that way, but it was sort of like keeping her in our stories.”

She turned back to the display and picked up the package of stationery, turning it over in her hands. He gently plucked it from her grip, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. “I think you need some nice paper for the next few chapters.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—” she started.

He cut her off with a press of his lips. She grasped a little at his waist as he kissed her and wondered if she would ever get used to kissing Spencer Reid. When he finally pulled back, she had to catch her breath.

“I’ll take half,” he murmured. “I was hoping I could, um— help you write them.”

She squeezed his waist gently, heard the chains of insecurity clinking and breaking as he chiseled away at them piece by piece. “I’d like that.”

…

Two weeks later, Y/N convinced him to try painting— specifically, Paint & Sip Night at the art studio around the corner from her apartment.

“I’m going to be terrible at this,” he warned her, looking over his shoulder at where she was tying the strings of his smock.

She tugged the strings around his waist to gently pull him back toward her, leaned up on her tiptoes, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. She knotted the strings tight and barely restrained herself from sneaking a little squeeze of his bum— although she did not stop herself from looking.

“It’s not about being good at it. It’s about having fun.” She used her hands on his waist to turn him around. “And if you’re not having fun, then we can go home,” she shrugged.

He smoothed a wrinkle from her smock. “I always have fun with you.” He smiled and scrunched his nose at her, and she returned the nose scrunch with a laugh.

“All right, everyone!” The instructor clapped her hands together. “Are you ready to paint a masterpiece?”

Forty five minutes later, Spencer peered over at her canvas and huffed out a breath. “God, look at that texture. How are you actually good at this?”

Y/N turned and looked at his painting. “Yours looks good, too,” she insisted.

“Michael could— and has, actually— done better than this,” he scoffed.

“Well, I like it.” She tilted her head. “It’s giving me... Monet vibes. It’ll look perfect in my living room.”

“You are not hanging this in your living room,” he laughed.

“I’d like to see you try and stop me,” she teased, turning back to her work to follow the next instruction.

She watched him as they worked— his tongue slipping out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, his fingertips tapping across his thighs in consideration, his huffed breaths here and there when a stroke didn’t look the way he wanted it to. She finished a little bit before him, adding her tiny signature to the bottom of her canvas before standing to move to his side. She slid a gentle hand around his waist and looked over his shoulder at his work.

He sighed and gestured to the corner of his canvas. “This whole section looks… weird.”

She studied it for a moment. “I think maybe it’s just because it’s sort of one note?” She pointed to the rest of the painting. “Like, you played with layering the colors everywhere else. Here it’s just the blue. You could add some purple maybe? Or green,” she mused.

“Yeah, I guess I can try that.” He shrugged and leaned over to the paints, gathering some purple on his brush.

She moved out of his way but rested her chin lightly on his shoulder as he worked. He moved the brush meticulously in small strokes, layering and creating dimension in the corner of the piece. When he finally set the brush down, he leaned his head to rest on top of hers.

“Okay. So it looks much more…” he trailed off.

“Cohesive,” she offered.

She could feel his smile. “Yeah,” he agreed. He lifted his head to look at her. “Seriously, how are you so good at this?”

She moved her chin from his shoulder and gave a nonchalant shrug. “I guess my many years of finger painting experience had to pay off someday.” She nodded to his finished painting. “I don’t know what your going rate is, but I have to have this.”

He swiveled on the stool to capture her hands in his, lacing their fingers together and pulling her in between his legs. “It’s yours.”

She feigned shock. “For free?”

“I didn’t say that,” he corrected with a sly smile. He dropped her hands to bring his own to her hips, pulling her in closer. “But it’s sort of an on-going payment deal. I’m asking at least 30 kisses per month.”

She pressed her lips together to avoid breaking out into an absurd grin. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“Take it or leave it. That’s my final offer,” he shrugged.

She pretended to mull it over, lips pursed and eyes on the ceiling. He huffed out a laugh, and she cracked a smile, bringing her fingers up to tangle in his curls. “Deal.”

…

Y/N: I don’t even know if your phone is capable of receiving pictures, but look what I hung today!

Spencer: It receives pictures! I wish I hadn’t received this one though. I cannot believe you actually hung that horrific thing on your wall.

Y/N: I’m going to commission you for a piece for the kitchen ;)

Spencer: You’re hilarious.

Y/N: You love it.

Spencer: I do.

Spencer: I wanted to tell you... I have my first therapy appointment tomorrow afternoon.

Y/N: Spence!!!

Y/N: I am so proud of you. It’s going to change your life.

Spencer: You’ve already done that, Miss Honey.

…

Y/N: How did it go?

Spencer: I cried? A lot.

Y/N: That happens to me, too! Good therapy will do that. Other than the crying, how do you feel?

Spencer: I feel… amazing. Lighter, I think? I’m actually kind of bummed that I have to wait two weeks to do it again.

Y/N: I know I said it already, but I’m so incredibly proud of you.

Spencer: I quite literally would not have done it without you.

Y/N: Happy to give you a little nudge whenever you need it, doctor. <3

...

The BAU’s caseload had been uncharacteristically slow, and the two of them took advantage of every moment. On one particularly gloomy Saturday afternoon, they were sprawled across Spencer’s couch and sipping on their umpteenth cups of coffee. He scribbled notes in the margins of his students’ latest essays, while she typed out her lesson plans for the upcoming week.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him set down his pen. He stifled a sigh and she held back a smile as she typed out a short vowel word chain. She could feel his eyes on her, could practically smell the smoke coming from his overworked brain.

When he didn’t break the silence, she looked up over the top of her laptop. “Can I help you?” she teased.

His cheeks colored with a very pretty flush— the same one she’d pulled from him in the carpool loop all those months ago. “Two of my students just… aren’t getting it.” He gestured to the papers in front of him. “I’ve tried extra office hours, extended time for work completion, and it just— doesn’t seem to be helping.” He looked at her with pursed lips. “I was, um— I was wondering if you had any ideas? That I could try.”

Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline. “You— you’re asking me for help?”

“Well, yeah.” He shrugged. “You’re the best teacher I know.”

Now it was her turn to blush. ��Oh. Well, um…” She set her laptop on the coffee table and sat up, considering. “Have you tried differentiating your lectures?” At his raised eyebrow, she continued, “Like— having a PowerPoint or a recorded version that they can revisit? You’re kind of a fast talker, so it’s possible that they’re struggling to retain the information because they can’t keep up with your delivery.”

“Huh.” He tilted his head with a furrowed brow. “I... didn’t consider that my oratory speed could have an impact on student achievement. But of course— that makes total sense.” He gave her a sheepish smile and his best puppy dog eyes. “So… how much coffee do you think you’d require to, um— help me make a PowerPoint?”

She sighed dramatically but couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “At least another two cups. And one of those peanut butter sandwich cookies from Soho.”

He set the papers aside and leaned over to plant a kiss on her upturned mouth. “I’ll buy you a dozen.”

…

In late May, their luck ran out.

First there was a case in Arizona— brutal and ritualistic murders scattered through the desert with almost no cooling off period. On the eighth day that he was in Phoenix, Y/N’s phone rang on the bedside table. She reached across to pick it up, smiling at his name on the screen.

“Hey,” she answered, moving her computer off her lap and getting comfortable.

“Hi,” Spencer murmured.

“How’s the case going?”

“It’s, um— it’s going okay, actually,” he assessed. “We’ve made a lot of headway in the last twelve hours, and I think we might be narrowing in.”

“That’s great.” She stifled a yawn behind her hand.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

His tone of voice had her sitting up a little straighter in bed. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he insisted, but his tone didn’t shift.

“You don’t sound fine,” she prompted.

“I just—” He blew out a breath, and she could almost hear him running his hand over his face. “I miss you. And maybe that’s weird, because we’ve only been together for seventy four days, but—”

“Spence,” she interrupted. He sighed, and she continued, “It’s not weird. I miss you, too.”

“Eight days isn’t even that long, but I just— I’ve never, um.” The line was quiet for long enough that she almost thought the call had dropped. And then his voice came back, softer than she’d ever heard it. “I’ve never had someone to miss.”

Her heart physically ached for all the time he’d spent without someone to miss— and without someone to miss him, and cherish him, and— well, love him. She still hadn’t said it back. She wanted to say it right then, but it felt wrong to say it for the first time over the phone. And there was still that nagging little fear— of his inevitable reconsideration and rejection— keeping her from pulling the metaphorical trigger.

“Well. I’m happy to fill that position,” she settled on— and hated how inadequate it sounded. She leaned back against the pillows, prepared to make him feel it even if she couldn’t say it. At the very least, she could help him take his mind off the monsters— if only for a few minutes. “Teach me something, doctor.”

He laughed a little through the phone, and she knew her plan was working already.

“Okay,” he started, and she could hear the muffled crinkle of the hotel duvet. “Um— did you know that the Sonoran Desert is the only place in the world where saguaro cacti grow?”

“Wow. No, I didn’t,” she smiled, ready to learn everything there was to know about the giant, prickly plants. “Why is that?”

“Experts believe there are two main factors that limit the cacti from expanding into the Mojave — temperature and rainfall. It’s also possible that...”

...

On his tenth day away, the letter showed up.

Y/N,

I’m writing from the balcony of the hotel room overlooking the desert— well, more so the parking lot of the desert— and I’m reminded of the duality of this landscape. The arid climate and rugged terrain can make it a mercilessly hostile place. Yet at the same time, this environment is one of the most enigmatic and enchanting, and it’s teeming with life if you look close enough.

This job can illuminate the cruelty and brutality of humanity, but it so often reminds me of the resilience and the goodness of people, too. The duality of the desert parallels the duality of man, I suppose.

I don’t know if you’ve ever been out here. I think you’d like it. I’ve thought of another poem that makes me think of you, and of the way that I finally feel like I can breathe.

With thee, in the Desert –

With thee in the thirst –

With thee in the Tamarind wood –

Leopard breathes – at last!

- Emily Dickinson

Love,

Spencer

…

They had barely deplaned after the culmination of the case in Arizona before they were called back out to Colorado, this time for six days. She barely heard from him at all, save for the occasional text, and even then, it was never more than ten words. She spent her waking hours worrying and dreamt the same terrifying dream every single night— being chased until her legs gave out, never sure of what she was running from and never able to slow down.

It was 2:27 in the morning when her phone rang, rousing her from her restless tossing and turning. His name on the caller ID had the worry jumping into her throat, but she answered as calmly as she could.

“Hi.” She yawned into her hand and let out a little sigh.

“Hi.” The tenor of his voice was quiet and weary. “I know it’s unbelievably late—”

She sat up and interrupted, “Are you okay?”

He was quiet for a moment, and her worry intensified. “I, um— I’m… I’m downstairs.”

She turned on the bedside lamp. “Like, right now?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed quietly. “I— I’m sorry. I should have called first before just— showing up at your door.”

She was already climbing out of bed. “No, no, honey, don’t be sorry. I’m coming to buzz you in.”

She shuffled through the dark apartment, fumbled for the intercom to press the buzzer. She could hear his feet on the stairs before she even made it to the door, unlocking the deadbolt and pulling back the chain. As the door swung open, he was rounding the top of the stairs and turning the corner of the landing.

It took him five strides to cross the threshold, and then he was tumbling into her arms and burying his face in her shoulder. The impact knocked the breath out of her, but she recovered quickly, bringing her arms around him and holding him tight.

He didn’t speak, just breathed into her hair and clutched a little desperately at her back. She stroked a soothing hand over his curls and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” she murmured. “You’re safe, Spence. I’m right here.”

She shifted her weight slowly back and forth, rocking him gently and petting over his hair, steady and rhythmic. He burrowed his face into the crook of her neck and let out a shaky breath, and Y/N felt his tears on her skin. She brought both arms around his shoulders then, squeezing him tightly. “I’m right here, honey,” she repeated. “I’m right here.”

He cried quietly into her shoulder as she ran soothing hands over his back. She knew this was more than just missing her— it was the cruelty and brutality of man that he saw every day, the layers of hurt that would probably always be there. But she knew the resilience was there, too. And she was determined to always show him the other half of the chasm of humanity.

After a long while, he pulled back, still sniffling. Y/N reached out to grasp his face in both her hands, sweeping the tears from his cheeks with gentle thumbs. Her heart panged at the way his eyes were shining and ringed red, full of complete exhaustion and raging emotion.

“What do you need?” she asked. “Water, tea, a snack, a shower?”

He shook his head. “Just you,” he mumbled.

She felt the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “You’ve got me. Always.” She pressed one, two, three chaste kisses to his chapped lips. “Let’s get cleaned up and changed and into bed, hm?”

She had him wash his face and brush his teeth, and then she moved him to sit on the closed toilet lid. “Close your eyes,” she said softly.

He could barely keep them open as it was, and she didn’t even want to think about how little sleep he’d had over the last three weeks. She cupped his face in her hands for a long moment, rememorizing every curve and angle.

First, she swiped a cotton pad soaked with cucumber toner across the high planes of his cheekbones and along his nose. She allowed it to dry, and then dropped gentle kisses to his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his chin. Next, she took a dab of moisturizer on the tips of her fingers, rubbing in circular motions along the path her lips had traveled. Finally, she pressed a few drops of her favorite lavender and chamomile face oil onto his cheeks, soothing away the last, damp remnants of agony.

When he opened his eyes again, they were already a little clearer, a little calmer, a little lighter. He let out a long, slow breath and laced their fingers together. She squeezed his hands, and then pulled him up and into her side.

She led him into her bedroom, stripped him out of his cardigan and button-up and trousers, and helped him into the soft, oversized school fundraiser shirt that had become his. And then she took his hands in hers once again and pulled him toward the bed, getting him settled and tucked in on his side before coming around to shut off the bedside light. He whined at the loss of contact, and she shushed him gently as she climbed in next to him.

“C’mere.” She lifted the duvet, and he moved to lay his head on her chest, wrapping his arm around her middle and pulling her impossibly closer. She tucked the covers back around him, and then brought her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly.

She stroked his hair quietly, listening to his breathing as it evened and slowed. He was asleep in minutes, snuffling gently into her chest. His grip loosened with every breath, and he settled more comfortably against her side with each exhale.

She let the tears she’d been holding back slip over her lash line and pressed a soft kiss into his hair. The faint snores vibrating from his chest muffled her quiet voice as she whispered the trio of words she couldn’t quite bring herself to say in the light of day.

———

Permanent tags: @spacedikut @andiebeaword @averyhotchner @pinkdiamond1016 @shadyladyperfection @coffeeandendlesswords @justanothetfangirl @no-honey-no @ajeff855 @sapphic-prentiss @rexorangecouny @rainsong01 @blameitonthenight21 @moviequeen51 @90spumkin @reniescarlett @ncsls0515 @daybabyx @sturmmhond @takeyourleap-of-faith @saspencereid @calm-and-doctor @reidtheprettyboy @atabigail @ayo-cowbelly @muffin-cup @ssa-natalya-reid @wheelsup @reidingmelodies @this-is-gublerween @s1utformgg @reidemandweep @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @luwheezey @joalsglasses @je-suis-prest-rachel @dr-omalley @spencie-adams @honestimanormalfan @blurryreid @babyhoneystvles

Permanent (sfw) tags: @mrs-dr-reid @eevee0722 @goldentournesol

Series tags: @uhuhuh @itsametaphorbriansblog @magenta145 @annesauriol @watermelongubler @ampal98 @mggsprettygirl @ceeellewrites @daybabyx @joalsglasses @chevyimpala00067 @misshale21 @ilzieah @froggybagels @gublersbooblers @matthcwgraygubler @mrs-dr-reid @flklrevrmre @andromedasstarship @reidspurplescarfs @hanniebee33 @nazdaniels @irisisonline @nazifa94 @elldell1204 @rotinireid @kyomito @outer-spacious @stupidcrazylittlething @princesssmooshie @luvspence

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

346 notes · View notes

lunar-wandering · 3 years

Text

Lanterns and Lies

surprise!! here we go, the sequel to Glamours and Gauze!

Word Count: 7k

Read on Ao3

Macaque had lied, when he said the shadow lantern was gone.

When the Lady Bone Demon had caught him, she had made a specific note of needing the lantern.

And, well, Macaque wouldn't let that happen.

So he'd shattered it, again, and during the Lady Bone Demon's momentary shock, he'd taken the opportunity to gather the broken pieces and run.

One of her minions had cut him with the cursed knife while he was running away.

That didn't matter now though, his injuries had been healed, and the Lady Bone Demon had yet to make another move. For now, sitting on the roof of the noodle shop, he was safe.

He starred down at the shattered pieces of the lantern in his hands.

With a sigh, he carefully extended his magic, putting the pieces back together again, reforming the lantern. He held it gently in his hands as he looked around the roof.

Now where was he gonna hide this-

"Macaque, I brought plums!"

Macaque startled upon hearing MK's voice, he'd been so distracted focusing on putting the lantern back together, he hadn't even heard the other climb up the ladder to the roof.

The.....lantern....

Which he told MK was gone....

In a rush to avoid MK seeing the lantern, Macaque did the first thing he thought of.

He shoved the lantern into himself, letting it mix into his own magic. Not the smartest way of storing it, it was a highly magical item, who knows how it would act while in direct contact with his magic, but it was the first thing he could think of, and this was only a temporary measure, so it should be fine.

....Probably.

"Hey bud, what's up?" Macaque asked, turning around to face MK, who was setting a small bowl of plums on the ground. "...What are the plums for?"

"You said that if I brought you some plums, you'd tell me about the time Monkey King walked into a tree." MK said, "And I fully expect you to keep your end of the bargain."

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Macaque said, grabbing the bowl of plums. "Well you see, what happened was-"

"That had to be the stupidest shit you've ever pulled, Wukong." Macaque said, breathing heavily as he leaned against a tree. Wukong for his part, just smirked.

"I didn't see you try to stop me." He said, laughing as Macaque glared at him.

"I did try to stop you. Multiple times. But you didn't listen." He said, "You really need to stop picking a fight with every random person you meet."

"You're no fun at all." Wukong said, yawning as he stretched. Macaque rolled his eyes.

"Whatever." He said, "Anyways, we should probably head back to the cave, get some rest-"

"I'm not tired." Wukong said.

"You literally yawned a few seconds ago."

"Doesn't mean I'm tired. Besides, there's still more stuff to do." Wukong said, turning and walking off further into the mountain's forest, Macaque trailing behind him. As they walked, Macaque noticed Wukong start slouching, little by little. He didn't say anything though, knowing that Wukong would only deny it if asked.

It would be better just to watch and deal with the consequences when they came.

And oh boy, did the consequences come: in the form of Wukong turning a corner and immediately walking directly into a tree. The tree snapped in half, falling to the ground, with Wukong tumbling down after it. There was a loud thump, as dust and leaves were sent flying into the air. A few nearby birds called out in concern.

"Timber." Macaque said, a smirk on his face, walking over and crouching down beside where Wukong now lay on his back with a dazed expression on his face. "So. Not tired, huh?"

"Shut up." Wukong hissed, sitting up, pulling dirt and leaves out of his fur as he did so. "The tree just. Got in my way, that's all-"

"You're expecting me to believe that a tree got up and put itself in your path?" Macaque asked, "Wukong. I'm not stupid. Let's just hurry up and go back to the cave to rest already."

"I'm fine." Wukong said, moving to stand up, but wobbling a little, tipping backwards again-

Macaque caught him, keeping him from having another close encounter with the ground.

"I ended up having to carry him all the way back up the mountain." Macaque said, making little images with his shadows in order to give MK a better visual of what happened. "He ended up sleeping for like, 3 days. Took him still being tired when he woke up again for me to realize he'd gotten cursed. Wasn't hard to break it afterwards, but boy did Wukong protest the whole time. Practically had to tie him to his bed."

MK scribbled in his sketch book, and Macaque, out of curiosity, moved closer, looking over MK's shoulder to see a sketch of what Macaque had just described.

"....You're drawing this?" He asked. MK nodded.

"Yeah! I've got a lifetime goal of illustrating all of Monkey King's adventures!" MK said, pausing his sketching to show Macaque a quick flip through of the rest of the book. "...You got any other stories?"

"Lots." Macaque said, leaning back. "But you're gonna have to bring more plums if you want more stories. I'm not just gonna hand this info out for free."

"Of course, of course." MK said, standing up and walking back over to the ladder, mumbling to himself as he climbed back down. "I'm going to have to permanently add plums to my shopping list...."

Macaque stayed where he was, waiting patiently until he couldn't hear MK anymore, before letting out a relieved sigh.

That had been close.... No matter what, he couldn't let the others know that he still had the lantern. Revealing that would probably cause the others to push him away, they wouldn't trust him anymore, and he really couldn't have that. Hanging around them was the most advantageous position for him to be in right now, and he wasn't about to give it up any time soon.

...He still needed a place to hide it permanently, keeping it inside of himself probably wouldn't be a good idea in the long term. With that thought in mind, he mentally reached inwards with his magic, shadows starting to surround him as he prepared to take the lantern out-

"Hey, Macaque!"

Macaque startled again, the shadows that had condensed around him vanishing as though they'd been popped like party balloons as he whirled around to see-

Mei, who giggled at his shocked expression, holding up her phone and taking a quick picture of him before pocketing it.

"Would you two stop doing that?" Macaque asked, sighing as Mei circled around him.

"Hey, it's not my fault you didn't hear me coming." Mei said, giggling at the expression on Macaque's face. "Seriously, with all those ears you have it's a wonder you didn't-"

"What do you want." Macaque growled, "You wouldn't be here if you didn't want something."

"Wouldn't I?"

That. Wasn't a question Macaque felt that he could answer. He honestly couldn't think of a reason why any of MK's friends would want to be around him, but they hadn't really been pushing him away either....

Mei seemed a little concerned with how he'd suddenly gone silent though, so it was probably best to quickly change the subject.

"Ah, anyways, I have some stuff to do, so I don't really have time for you." Macaque said, walking past Mei and over to the edge of the rooftop. Distantly, he noted a weird tingling sensation come over him, but he ignored it, figuring it wasn't important.

"Oh, now that's a lie." Mei said, a smirk on her face. "You never do anything other than lounge around up here."

"Do not." Macaque said, crossing his arms. "I do plenty, you just haven't noticed."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

Macaque pondered for a moment on how best to answer-

And that was when his foot started sinking into the shadow underneath of him.

Outwardly, Macaque remained perfectly calm, not letting Mei in on the fact that anything was amiss.

Inwardly, he panicked.

That was definitely not supposed to be happening, why was it happening it shouldn't be happening why was he l o s i n g c o n t r o l-

He was snapped out of his panic when he heard the sound of an engine starting up behind him. Subtly looking over his shoulder, he could see MK, ready to drive off, probably to deliver some noodles.

Macaque made his decision in a split second.

Turning and pulling his foot out of the shadow it'd been sinking into, Macaque jumped off the roof. Ignoring Mei's shout of "Hey, wait!", he slipped into the shadow of the tuk tuk, just before MK started to drive away.

Macaque hung out in the shadow of the tuk tuk for about 15 minutes before he actually bothered to wonder where exactly MK was going.

MK slowed down a bit as he turned a corner, and Macaque figured it was as good a time as any to ask.

Carefully, he materialized on the back of the tuk tuk, then, after making sure there wasn't anything around for MK to accidentally hit should he swerve, asked;

"Where are you going?"

MK's foot slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching and Macaque almost falling off from the sudden inertia. As soon as they were still, MK whirled around, staring at Macaque, shocked.

"How long have you been there?" He asked, and the expression on his face genuinely made Macaque laugh.

"Oh, not very long." Macaque said, "I was riding along in the shadow for the most part."

"...You can do that?" MK asked, "You probably save like, so much money when traveling then-"

"Bold of you to assume that I have any money at all." Macaque said, "Anyways, you didn't answer the question. Where are you going?"

"Why do you want to know?" MK asked, crossing his arms. "And why are you here anyways? Usually you just stay on the roof, what changed?"

"Nothing! What, can't I just want to go for a ride once in a while?" Macaque said-

And his hand started sinking into the shadow beside him. Swiftly, he pulled it out, rubbing it to get rid of the remaining tingles. MK watched this happen with a look of suspicion.

"...Uh-huh, sure, like I believe that." He said, tone as dry as the desert. "And anyways, I don't think you'd want to-"

And then he paused, looking as though he'd just been hit with some kind of realization.

"Actually-" MK started, "I think it would be good if you came with me."

He turned back around, taking his foot off the break and turning back onto the road, speeding up a little.

"You still haven't told me where we're going." Macaque said.

"Oh, you'll soon find out."

Macaque had a feeling he wasn't going to like this.

He was right. He hated this.

Staring up at a temple that quite obviously belonged to Sun Wukong, Macaque regretted every decision he had made in his life that had led up to this moment.

He regretted it even more when the monkey himself opened the front gate.

"Ah, there you are kid!" Wukong said, "I was beginning to think you'd never show up!"

"I'm only 2 minutes late..." MK muttered, and Macaque couldn't help but laugh a bit at that.

Sun Wukong was not, exactly, known for being very patient after all.

"Oh, I see you brought... an audience." Wukong said, finally noticing that Macaque was, in fact, also there.

"Audience? Please, if anything I'm the lead actor." Macaque said.

"Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that." MK said, and Macaque would've hit him where it not for the warning glance Wukong gave him.

Macaque ended up being dragged to MK's training sessions with Wukong, again and again. Some days it was because MK himself forcibly brought him along, and on other days it was because Macaque was simply avoiding Mei. (He denied the accusation that he was avoiding her when asked...and then almost tripped as his foot sank deeper into the shadows. Luckily he'd managed to blame it on a stray tree root, but he wasn't sure how long he could keep it up...)

Over the course of said days, Macaque had tried multiple times to find a better place to hide the lantern than within his own magic. (He'd long since figured out that the lantern was reacting whenever he lied, thus messing with his own magic. He had no idea why it was doing this, but the why didn't really matter so long as he could find a way to stop it.) But of course, since karma was apparently out to get him, he was interrupted by someone every single time, forcing him to keep the lantern within himself, lest the others find out about it.

Honestly though, he was shocked that Wukong hadn't noticed, considering his golden vision and all, he should've been able to see the fact that the lantern's magic was contained within Macaque.

(Macaque had nearly panicked when, on day 2 of him following MK to his training, Wukong had leaned close to him with a contemplative look on his face.

"...Why are you so close to me?" Macaque had asked, and huh, how long had that slit been in Wukong's eyebrow? Had it been there for a while and Macaque had just never noticed or-

"I'm checking to see how much of the glamor you're wearing." Was Wukong's response, as he studied him. "You're still recovering, you probably shouldn't be using magic to cover all of it."

So....Wukong was concerned about him. Macaque couldn't really imagine why, but still-

"You didn't need to get so close to me- can't you obviously see I'm wearing it?" Macaque had asked, gesturing at his own face. Wukong, surprisingly, winced at that, finally backing up a bit.

"Well, I guess you seem fine." He'd muttered, turning away, "Don't know why I was even worried."

And Macaque should've been relieved, but for some reason-

For some reason he felt like something was wrong.)

Macaque relaxed in the shade of a tree, watching Wukong train MK. It was almost soothing to watch the mentor and student trade hits as they sparred.

But of course, being relaxed didn't mean that Macaque didn't notice things.

Like how Wukong was a full 2 seconds slower in blocking MK's attacks than he'd been when Macaque had stolen MK's powers. Which wasn't really something that would normally raise concern- he probably just wasn't being as serious as he would be when encountering an actual threat, but.

Something about it was making the alarm bells that had been constantly ringing in Macaque's head louder. (Something he, obviously, didn't appreciate. Loud sounds, even mental ones, weren't very pleasant for him).

Macaque, of course, was never one to miss an opportunity to call Wukong out.

Which was why it was so surprising when MK beat him to the punch.

"Monkey King, are you okay?" MK asked, and Macaque sat up straighter, paying more attention, because oh, he wanted to hear this.

"Of course bud! Why do you ask?" Wukong said, and despite the fact that his back was to Macaque, the shadow monkey just knew that the other was lying.

"Well I don't know, you've just- seemed off, is all." MK said, shifting back and forth as he seemed to contemplate what to say. "Like, a little slower maybe? And I haven't seen you use your cloud in days, which is kinda weird, since you normally seem to use it-"

Wukong stiffened, and it was at this point that Macaque got genuinely curious, deciding that he had to see what kind of expression the other monkey was making right now. So, he slipped down into the shadows of the tree, and reappeared out of MK's shadow, startling the both of them as he slung an arm around MK's shoulder.

"Kid's right y'know." Macaque said, putting on a smirk as he looked at the other. "Even I've noticed, and I've barely even been paying attention."

That was a lie, and he barely kept himself from wincing as he felt the tingle of magic flow through his body.

Only for nothing to seemingly happen. That was...mildly concerning, he'd felt the flow of magic, so something had definitely occurred, he just couldn't tell what.

...Well, whatever. If he couldn't notice it then it probably wasn't important.

Macaque refocused back in on the subject at hand, studying Wukong's expression. Nothing he hadn't expected, the usual nervous smile and look in his eyes that indicated he was lying where all there.

Or, well, most of it was expected.

The slight twinge of fear was new.

"I'm telling you, there's nothing wrong!" Wukong said, taking a slight step back. "I'm fine, really!"

Both MK and Macaque rolled their eyes in sync.

"If you're so fine, then explain to me why you keep waiting until MK is almost right in front of you before blocking him?" Macaque asked, MK nodding along as he spoke. "Seriously, it's like you can't see it unless it's close-"

Both Macaque and MK froze, coming to the same conclusion at the same time. Wukong, seeing the expressions on their faces, scratched his cheek nervously, avoiding their gaze.

"Oh my heavens." MK said, "You need glasses."

"I do not-"

Tang had been having a peaceful day at the noodle shop.

Having, being the key word.

Because suddenly, said peaceful day was interrupted as Macaque appeared out of nowhere beside him. Tang barely kept himself from startling out of his stool. (He'd started to grow used to the shadow monkey's sudden appearances, but that didn't really make them any less startling).

Macaque, for a moment, looked confused as to where he was, looking around in surprise, before taking notice of Tang and schooling his features into something unreadable.

"Oh." He said, "Uh. Hello?"

"Hello to you too, Macaque?" Tang said, a little confused, before finally taking notes of one important fact.

Macaque's eyes were fully purple.

"...Ah." Tang said, "Not Macaque."

"Hm, smart man." 'Macaque' said, leaning back, "Nope, I'm not the original. Just a shadow clone, that's all I am."

"Why are you here? Is there trouble?" Tang asked, worry seeping into his voice. The clone just shrugged.

"Dunno." 'Macaque' said, "One minute, I didn't exist, the next, I'm here."

"How can you just not know?" Tang asked, blinking in disbelief.

"He probably created me on accident." 'Macaque' said, almost as casually as though he was reading out a morning newspaper.

"That can happen??"

"Well, not normally, but in certain cases-" The clone started, then paused, eyes narrowing. "Well, actually, if that's the case, he probably doesn't know I exist right now..."

"Shouldn't you... tell him?" Tang asked, and watched as the clone contemplated it.

"Well I mean, not telling him would be kind of funny." He said, before shaking himself out of it. "No- no, you're right, I should probably tell him."

The clone proceeded to go completely silent, and Tang watched him with thinly veiled concern. After about 2 minutes of silence, with the clone making increasingly dramatic facial expressions, Tang decided to comment again.

"...Are you actually contacting him right now?" He asked, and the clone broke out of whatever state he was in to glance at him.

"Hm? Oh- yeah." He said, "Mental connection, y'know?"

"Then how come MK doesn't ever-"

"Cause he doesn't know it exists."

Of course. Of course the lantern had made a clone.

That certainly explained why there hadn't been any obvious reaction after the magic tingle.

Although, it was weird that the clone had ended up in the noodle shop. Why on Earth would it have formed there?

(In all honesty, it was probably because, once again, Macaque felt safe there. But he never planned to admit that fact, not even to himself, so he slid that thought back into the deepest part of his mind.)

As it was now though, Macaque sat back under the tree, head in hands, mentally communicating with the clone as MK and Wukong continued to argue about whether or not the Monkey King needed glasses.

"C'mon!" MK said, stomping his foot on the ground, "Just admit that you're nearsighted already! It's obvious!"

"I don't need glasses!" Wukong said, hopping backwards as MK tried to tackle him. "I can see just fine!"

This statement was contradicted, as MK suddenly moved backwards, distancing himself from his mentor. Macaque could see Wukong squint, something he wouldn't normally do-

And then MK moved forwards, with a speed Macaque honestly hadn't seen him use before (and wasn't that funny, that somehow this argument was actually causing MK's speed to improve) and managed to tackle Wukong to the ground.

A roll of parchment fell out of one of Wukong's pockets.

"Oh?" Macaque said, standing up, temporarily blocking his shadow clone's messages out of his mind (it was fine anyways, it seemed to have gotten distracted), he walked over, picking up the roll of parchment. "What's this?"

"Wh-Hey!" Wukong said, looking up from his position of being pinned to the ground by MK, squinting his eyes as he focused on Macaque. "Don't- give that back!"

"Well now, if you're so pressed over it then I kinda have to look, right?" Macaque said, slowly unrolling the scroll despite Wukong's protests. MK, surprisingly, kept Wukong pinned, watching with curiosity as Macaque looked over the parchment's contents. "....Huh."

"What is it?" MK asked, and Macaque turned, holding out the unrolled parchment so that MK could see it. Wukong, at this point, stopped struggling, simply laying on the ground face down.

"Tell me, Wukong, why exactly do you need a map?" Macaque asked, crouching down in front of the other. "You planning on going on vacation again or something?"

"You're going to leave me again?" MK asked, and maybe Macaque was just hearing things (rather unlikely....) but there was almost a note of panic in MK's voice.

Wukong must've picked up on the panic too, as he quickly jumped into reassurance.

"Woah, hey, I'm not- I'm not vacationing any time soon." He said, attempting to shift around a little, before sighing. "...Could you get off me now, please?"

MK scrambled to get off his mentor, Wukong slowly sitting up and stretching a little. Macaque rolled his eyes at the display, shaking the map a little to draw their attention back to it.

"Hey, I'm not letting you off that easily." He said, "Explain the map. Now."

Wukong sighed again, avoiding both Macaque and MK's eyes.

"...Fine, so maybe I.....wasn't exactly on vacation...." Wukong muttered, "I was...searching for something. A weapon."

"...To fight the Lady Bone Demon, right?" MK asked, and Wukong looked at him in shock.

"How'd you-"

"Maybe leaving your successor alone when there's a powerful demon on the loose isn't the best decision, Wukong." Macaque said, rolling up the map and putting into his own pocket, before lightly rubbing his arm, a few specific... memories running through his mind. "Seriously, be glad she still hasn't gotten everything she needs."

"What do you know about what she-" MK started, then cut himself off, looking at Macaque as though he'd been given the answer to everything. "She's the one who hurt you."

Macaque didn't respond, turning around and walking away.

"Hey wait- where are you-" Wukong started-

"I'm going back to my spot under the tree." Macaque said, "You two can sort through whatever your 'vacation' was about on your own."

"...Huh." The shadow clone muttered, eyes closed as he seemingly listened in on whatever was happening to the real Macaque. "That's.....interesting."

"What is?" Tang asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Nothing really important." The clone said- and started melting slightly. Tang looked on in confusion as the clone suddenly panicked, stumbling over his words. "Wait- no I mean- it, it is important, but not really something I should be the one to tell you about?"

The melting stopped, the shadow clone returning to normal as he let out a sigh of relief.

"Does that....usually happen?" Tang asked.

"No." The clone answered, but didn't elaborate. Tang figured he'd just have to ask the real Macaque about it later. "...Anyways, do you think you could help the real me out with something?"

"Depends on what said something is." Tang said, crossing his arms.

"It's nothing bad, I promise." The shadow clone said, chuckling. "But, would you happen to know where I could buy a pair of glasses?"

"This is dumb. I look stupid."

"Aw come on Monkey King, I think you look cool!" Mei said, MK nodding along with her. "The glasses suit you just fine!"

Wukong sighed, sitting in the noodle shop with his arms crossed, leaning on the counter.

"What's with the sudden need for glasses anyways?" Pigsy asked, sliding a bowl of peach slices over to the monkey. Subtly, he also handed a bowl of plums over to Macaque, who was sitting slightly off to the side in the shadows.

Wukong stiffened, pausing for a moment before opening his mouth to answer-

"And don't lie to me." Pigsy added, and Wukong slouched a little.

(Macaque had to admit, it was kinda fun to watch the Monkey King basically get reprimanded like a child.

The only reason he didn't comment on it was that he was sure that if he did, he'd get the exact same treatment.)

There was a moment of silence, before Wukong groaned, laying his head down on the table, and muttering something that was too quiet for the others to hear, but nearly made Macaque choke on the plum he'd been chewing on.

"What?!" He said, in pure shock, "You- you're losing your powers?!"

Almost instantly, there was pandemonium.

"What do you mean you're losing your powers!" MK practically screeched, "That can happen?!"

"I don't know, but it's the only explanation I've got!" Wukong said, throwing his hands up into the air. "I can't use my golden vision or my cloud anymore- and I don't know why!"

"How, exactly, does this relate back to you suddenly needing glasses?" Pigsy asked, completely ignoring how the others where in varying states of a mental breakdown.

"I- I usually just use my golden vision to make up for it." Wukong said, "Like, magic contacts, you know?"

"...And now you can't do that anymore." Tang said, "Because you can't use your golden vision."

"......Yeah." Wukong sighed.

"Is there...anything we can do to help?" Sandy tentatively asked.

"Well, I was planning on going out and finding.... something." Wukong said, turning to look at Macaque. "Speaking of which, you promised you'd give me the map back once I got glasses, and I'm wearing them now so-"

Macaque tsk'd, pulling the map out of his pocket and tossing it over to the other monkey, who caught it and placed it upon the counter.

"It's not like I can go and get it now though." Wukong said, the others staring over him to look down at the map. "Since I can't use my cloud anymore..."

"I have an airship." Sandy said, and Wukong turned to look at him in confusion. "We could use that, to travel there."

"What- no. No. Absolutely not." Wukong said, jumping up onto the counter (ignoring Pigsy disapproving glare), and staring down at the others. "In case you don't remember, you guys have something called mortality. I'm not going to just bring you guys with me-"

"Like you have much of a choice." A new voice said, and Macaque barely kept himself from startling as he suddenly noticed Red Son beside him.

"How long have you been there-" Macaque hissed, but was ultimately ignored.

"You coming too, Red Boy?" Mei asked, despite Wukong's faint protests that nobody was coming with him, thank you very much-

"I have nothing better to do." Red Son said, shrugging. "My parents went on vacation a little while ago, I've just been hanging around since then."

"So, we're all going?" MK asked, glancing over at Macaque, who, realizing he was being stared at, sighed, standing up and stepping closer to them, in the light.

"Fine, whatever." He said, "If you guys want me to go, I'll come, but I'm not happy about it."

The others stared at him, with a mixture of confusion and shock.

"....What?" Macaque asked, already dreading the answer. MK slowly pointed behind him.

"Has your shadow always moved like that?" He asked, and Macaque didn't even bother to look, instead immediately slamming his back against the wall to cover it as he threw a glamor over his own shadow. He wasn't sure what it had been doing that the others saw, but he absolutely refused to let it be seen any longer.

"...Whatever it was you saw, forget about it." He said, and while most of the others simply shrugged, accepting it as just him being weird, looking away-

The look in Mei and Wukong's eyes did not promise good things.

The first day on the ship, everyone was mainly focused on settling in, making sure all their stuff was where it needed to be, choosing rooms, so on and so forth.

And so, for the most part, Macaque was free from whatever Wukong and Mei were planning.

The second day on the ship, however.

The second day on the ship made Macaque wish the airship had a plank so he could jump off of it.

It had started small.

"Hey, Macaque?" Mei asked, grabbing his attention before practically shoving her phone into his face. "What do you think about this?"

Macaque could barely register the image in front of his face, but eventually parsed it out to be a picture of- a kitten??

"I hate it." He said, instinctively, and almost immediately started sinking into the shadow beneath him. Mei, being so close to him, immediately noticed, confusion flashing on her face for a brief second, before a smirk took over.

"If you say so." She said, and backed off, turning away as Macaque hurriedly pulled his feet out of the shadows before he could sink any further.

Some part of him hoped that would be the end of it.

As soon as he ran into Wukong though, he instantly knew that this wasn't over by a long shot.

"Macaque." Wukong said, leaning against the wall, and Macaque instantly noticed that his glasses were missing.

"You owe Tang 5 cents." Macaque hissed, it was well known that Tang had made the Monkey King promise to pay him whenever the monkey was caught not wearing his glasses. Macaque, of course, didn't really care, but he was looking for some way to distract Wukong from whatever he was planning to do to him.

"I'll pay him later." Wukong shrugged, and Macaque mentally cursed. "So. How'd you sleep last night?"

Macaque wasn't going to be led into the trap this obviously was.

"How did you sleep last night?" He shot back.

"I didn't." Wukong said, perfectly honest. "I did see you walking around for a bit though, so I'm curious as to whether or not you slept. You need it more than I do, remember?"

That.... was true. Macaque did need to sleep more than Wukong did, but-

"I slept just fine." Macaque lied, sighing as he felt the glamor over his ears fade away. Wukong crossed his arms, a concerned look on his face, but Macaque ignored it, choosing instead to walk into a nearby shadow to teleport to another location on the ship, throwing his glamor back on as he did so.

(He, in truth, was in the same boat as Wukong, both literally and figuratively. He hadn't slept at all, instead laying awake all night, worrying.

Wukong was losing his powers. MK was not nearly close enough to being ready. The others, outside of Red Son, might have some powers or abilities, but they are no where near close enough to being capable of beating the Lady Bone Demon.

He'd have to rely on the unknowns of this weapon Wukong was seeking out.

Macaque didn't like relying on unknowns.)

He emerged in the ships engine room-

And very nearly fell right on top of Red Son.

"Watch where you're going!" Red Son huffed, dodging out of the way and angrily brushing non existent dirt off of his jacket. "Seriously, what is with you guys and trying to knock me to the ground?"

"Maybe you just look very squishable." Macaque muttered, not really intending on giving Red Son a proper response. He actually didn't want to interact with anyone right now, especially not Red Son, so he turned, moving to leave the engine room-

"Not so fast." Red Son said, stopping Macaque in his tracks by grabbing hold of the back of his scarf. "I've got some questions for you."

Hm. That didn't bode well.

"What makes you think that I have any answers?" Macaque asked, only to be met by a deadpan look that promised-

That promised fire if he didn't co-operate.

If there was a list of things Macaque strictly didn't want, fire would be number one, at the top of the list.

"...What do you want to know?" He asked, slumping a little in defeat.

"Why you stayed." Red Son said, elaborating when Macaque only looked at him in confusion. "Your wound healed. You were perfectly free to go. And yet.... you stayed. Like you were....trying to protect something."

"Uh, yeah, myself, obviously." Macaque said, shrugging. "Hanging out around the Monkey King and his successor is the safest place to be after-"

"That's not it." Red Son said, and Macaque froze. "Sure, staying around them while you're weak makes sense, you'd need someone to protect you. But after you've recovered? Once you're strong again? Sure, I can understand you getting attached, but always staying around them is a little strange."

There was a glint, in Red Son's eye, and Macaque suddenly remembered a moment, yesterday, where Mei had dragged the fire demon off to the side to have a little conversation. He'd thought nothing about it at the time, but now-

"You say that you're protecting yourself....But at this point, somehow, you're mostly protecting them, aren't you?" Red Son asked, "Whatever it is you're hiding, you're hiding it to protect both yourself and them."

Macaque didn't answer, instead staring at the floor.

Whatever Mei and Wukong had been planning, Red Son was in on it.

And he was very clearly not as interested in taking a subtle approach.

"Your powers have been on the fritz lately." Red Son said, almost like it was an afterthought to his whole theory. "Don't think that we haven't noticed. It's different from Wukong though, in that you're not losing your powers, if anything, it's like they're getting stronger, almost as though they're being drawn from a different source-"

Macaque didn't want to stay here any longer.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He lied, and didn't resist as his powers fluctuated in response, letting himself completely fall into the shadow behind him.

He ended up falling out of a shadow on the ceiling.

Luckily, it was in his own room, so no-one else was there to witness it.

Didn't mean it didn't hurt though.

"...That's gonna bruise later...." He muttered to himself as he slowly pushed himself off the floor and stood up.

For a moment, he just stood there, slightly dazed.

And then he started pacing.

This was not good, the others were onto him, he wouldn't be able to keep this up for much longer.

Not to mention the lantern, it's influence on his abilities was getting stronger the longer he left it inside himself. There was literally no telling how far it's influence would go.

(He'd already started noticing some strands of his fur turning purple. It wasn't anything that couldn't easily be covered up by a glamor, but the fact it was happening at all was incredibly concerning.)

He had to find another place to hide it. But where-

And suddenly, Macaque was struck by an idea. A rather bad idea, honestly, there was sure to be consequences from this, but it was the only idea he had right now.

The ship's clock struck 4 am.

Macaque slipped into MK's room, holding the faintly glowing lantern.

For a moment, he stood there, beside MK's bed, letting the lantern hover over top of him, thinking.

Maybe......maybe he shouldn't do this. He could probably find another way, something more reasonable than a hastily made, sleep deprived, decision. After all, the lantern had proven that it came with side effects, who knows how it'd affect MK?

Well. If he's actually being honest, he was hoping that the Monkey King Magic MK had would effectively cancel out the lanterns effects.

...He had no way of proving that it could do that though.

After a few more minutes of standing there, mentally debating, Macaque finally came to the decision that, yeah, this wasn't a good idea, he should just go back to his room and try to sleep for the few remaining hours of the night, come up with a better plan tomorrow-

A loud sound clanged from the engine room, and Macaque startled, barely keeping himself from squeaking as the sudden noise surprised him, squeezing his hands on instinct-

And snapping the lantern in half, the bottom piece falling and merging into MK's magic.

For a moment, Macaque just stood there in shock.

Then MK curled up, letting out a small noise of pain as little golden and purple sparks started shooting across his body, and Macaque panicked, reaching into MK's magic and hurriedly pulling out the other half of the lantern, shoving both pieces back into himself as MK started to stir.

By the time MK was sitting up, blinking his eyes open, rubbing his arms and looking around the room in confusion, Macaque was gone.

The next day, Wukong practically broke down Macaque's door, MK in tow.

"Mine explaining to me why there are traces of shadow magic all over MK?" He asked, before pausing as he registered the scene in front of him.

Macaque was curled up under his blankets, a pillow over his head effectively hiding him from view. The only part of the other monkey that Wukong could actually see was his tail, which was dangling over the side.

This wasn't really that weird, Wukong fully remembered that the other monkey was in no way a morning person.

...It was slightly more weird due to the fact that it was lunchtime.

"Is he...okay?" MK asked, leaning over his mentor's shoulder.

"You tell me." Wukong said, "You're the one with the golden vision right now."

Macaque's tail, which had been swinging idly, froze, and suddenly there was a mad scramble as he tried to pull all the blankets off of himself and sit up at the same time. Essentially, he ended up rather tangled, and was far too late to stop MK from using his golden vision.

At first there was nothing MK hadn't already expected. The bags under the eyes, the mussed up fur, the six ears and the scar. These were all things he knew that he'd find.

The purple streaks in Macaque's fur was surprising.

But not nearly as surprising as the lantern that lay intermingled with Macaque's own magic.

"What do you see, kid?" Wukong asked, and MK watched as Macaque sat up straighter, finally managing to pull the blankets off of himself.

"Nothing! He sees nothing! Right, bud?" Macaque asked, a panicked twinge in his voice, and-

MK could see the lantern flare, the magic traversing Macaque's entire body, before condensing around his arm.

Which proceeded to sink into the shadow on the bed.

"...Well." MK started, staring as Macaque pulled his hand out of the shadow and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "That's not something you see every day."

"So I was right then?" Red Son asked, "He's been storing the lantern within himself?"

"How'd you even know about the lantern..." Macaque muttered, from where he sat at the kitchen table, leaning back with his arms crossed. His glamor had been taken down, allowing everyone to see the purple streaks in his fur.

The lantern sat on the table in front of him.

"I have my sources." Red Son said, looking overly proud of himself. Macaque huffed, looking away.

"I thought you said the lantern was destroyed?" Mei said, using a spoon to lightly poke the lantern, almost as though it would grow legs and run away.

"Yeah, like, I saw you break it-" MK started, and then was stopped mid sentence as Macaque raised his fist, before harshly crushing the lantern, breaking it into pieces. A few of the others jumped. "What did you do that for-"

Macaque simply raised his hand, letting his magic call out, and letting the pieces slide back into their proper place. By the end of it, the lantern looked as good as new, as though it'd never been broken. MK watched the display with wide eyes.

"I did break the lantern." Macaque said, "It's just not that hard to fix."

"Regardless-" Wukong started, grabbing the lantern out of Macaque's hand, the lantern switching from it's usual purple to a soft golden glow as he did so. "You seriously should've told us that you have this. It would've saved you so much trouble."

"Would you have trusted me, if you knew I still had it?" Macaque asked, only to be met with silence. "...Yeah. Thought so."

There was a moment of silence as Macaque sat there, looking down, not meeting anyone's eyes. Then Sandy softly placed his hand on Macaque's shoulder.

"It's not that we wouldn't have trusted you." He said, gently. "We would've just taken a bit longer to come around, is all."

"Uh-huh, sure, keep telling yourself that." Macaque said, still looking at the floor, and thus missing the entirely silent conversation everyone else shared.

They all agreed they probably weren't going to get very far with this issue any time soon, by the look of things. (That didn't mean they wouldn't bring it up later, though.)

"If you thought we wouldn't trust you if we knew you had the lantern, then why didn't you just, I don't know, throw it away?" MK asked, and Macaque sighed, slouching down in his chair.

"...Lady Bone Demon wanted it." He muttered, and everyone immediately stood up ramrod straight.

"What?" Wukong hissed, staring down at the lantern in his hands as though he was seeing it in a new light. "Why- what could she possibly want with-"

"Don't know, didn't stick around long enough to find out." Macaque said, shrugging. MK and Red Son both looked horrified.

"That's how you got injured." MK muttered, "She must've captured you because she wanted the lantern...."

"The Lady Bone Demon has a cursed blade..." Red Son said, under his breath, only Macaque hearing him.

"Yeah yeah, I got captured, I got injured, whatever, it's all over with now." Macaque said, waving a hand around as though he wasn't making light of something horrifying. "Anyways, anyone else got any bright ideas on where to hide the lantern?"

"....Was that a pun." Wukong asked, "Seriously. You reveal that the Lady Bone Demon is after both you and the lantern and then you swap topics with a pun?"

"You got a problem with that?" Macaque asked, a smirk on his face. There was a moment of tense silence as the two of them stared at each other.

Wukong set the lantern back down on the table.

And then tackled Macaque out of his chair and onto the floor. Macaque let out a startled yelp as they went down, before quickly switching to clawing at the other as Wukong easily pinned him to the ground-

And then suddenly Wukong's grip weakened, and Macaque easily reversed their positions, pinning Wukong to the floor. For a moment the Monkey King looked confused, before a look of nervous realization appeared on his face.

"Uh- guys?" He said, nervously giggling as Macaque and the others stared at him in confusion. "Um. I think I just lost my super strength?"

#Monkie Kid #fanfic #my writing #Glamors and Gauze-verse

136 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Game Night

EZ Reyes x F!Reader

Request by @beardburnsupersoldiers: If you are still doing the roommate prompts....maybe number 3 with Angel, EZ, and reader???? Bonus points if all that delicious tension is happening between reader and the Reyes of your choice! (Prompts are from This List btw)

Warnings: language, alcohol, EZ being a sore loser

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This was really fun to write! I don’t think I’ve ever written a fic quite like this one before so it was a neat little dynamic. Hope you enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

EZ Reyes Taglist: @ly--canthrope @noz4a2 @queenbeered @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @mayans-sauce @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @garbinge @bucky-iss-bae @enjoy-the-destruction @encounterthepast @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @masterlistforimagines @kkim120 @toni9 @shadow-of-wonder (If you want to be added to any of my taglists let me know!)

“You grab beer for tonight?” you had your phone pinned between your ear and your shoulder as you tossed your grocery bags into the back seat of your car.

“I was supposed to grab beer?” EZ chuckled.

“You can’t even try to pull that shit, Memory Boy,” you laughed.

You could hear the smile in his voice, “Yes I grabbed beer.”

“You’re perfect. I think I’m still gonna go to the liquor store though.”

“What for?”

“…liquor?”

You could envision him rolling his eyes at you, forever fed up with your remarks, “I feel like that’s excessive.

“Live a little, Ezekiel,” you joked, “It’s game night.”

It wasn’t long after you had moved in with EZ you started up game night with him and his brother. It was a good way for them to unwind and forget about the stress of the club, and you just genuinely enjoyed their company. It was nice to play host every now and then, even if it was just for one extra person. You and Ezekiel made quite the pair.

You knew how potentially messy it could get, having feelings for your roommate. That’s why you kept your thoughts and emotions to yourself. But you couldn’t deny that there was something about EZ that was really hard to tear yourself away from. There were moments when you could swear that he wanted you too, but they were fleeting and you always ended up writing them off for the sake of your sanity. When EZ wasn’t paying attention, Angel gave you grief about it. He was at least gracious enough to keep his mouth shut in front of his brother, although on more than one occasion he would shoot you a suggestive look, and you would respond with rolling your eyes and shaking your head.

You popped open the door to your apartment, multiple bags hanging from each of your arms. EZ turned and looked over at you from where he was situated by the counter, pulling together food for the three of you to eat later. He laughed as he walked over and offered to take some of the bags from you, but you waved him off.

“I have a very delicate balance here, Ezekiel,” you laughed, “If you take one I’m gonna tip over.”

He laughed as he stepped out of your way, “Got more in the car?”

You gave him a disbelieving look, “You think I was raised to make more than one trip from the car with groceries?” you shook your head as you carefully started sliding bags off your arms onto the floor, “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

He held his hands up in surrender, “My bad. Didn’t mean to insult your honor.”

He helped you put the groceries away before he got back to getting food ready. You made your way to the closet in your room that housed an absurd number of card games and board games. You had always meant to bring Cards Against Humanity to the clubhouse because you felt like it would make for an extremely fun night. You’d have to just put it in EZ’s bags one of these days so it would turn up there on its own.

You heard the sound of your apartment door shutting, and moments after Angel’s voice echoed through the apartment, “What game am I whopping your asses at tonight?”

You laughed loud enough so that he would hear you from the other end of the apartment, “You’re toast, Reyes. You don’t stand a chance.”

He appeared in the doorway of your bedroom, “Stand a chance at what? What’s the game of the night?”

“Wanna do drunk Uno?”

He laughed, “That sounds dangerous.”

“Really? Less than two minutes ago you were saying that you were gonna whoop everyone’s ass tonight. Now you’re backing out?”

“I didn’t say that. Gimme the fucking cards,” he swiped them from you with a laugh before heading back towards the living room.

Plates and beer bottles were scattered on the edges of your coffee table while the three of you took up the center of it with your Uno game. The bottle of tequila rested next to the deck in the center of your table, waiting for one of you to lay down a draw four and make the next person take a shot along with their cards.

Angel had been sitting back and watching you and EZ trying to destroy each other all night. Angel was the king of talking smack, but tonight he was more interested in spurring the two of you on than getting you riled up himself. It was an effective tactic, too, because the amount of tequila he’d had to drink was minimal. Instead, he happily worked his way through a couple beers with little to no interruptions. He was really just waiting for one you two to get enough alcohol in your system to do something about your feelings. He was sick of watching the two of you dance around it.

“Angel shuffles next game,” EZ said with a shake of his head, “There’s no way you fairly ended up with all of those cards.”

“You’re just mad because you hate the taste of tequila,” you teased, “But fine. If it makes you feel better,” you handed the deck over to Angel, “Here you go.”

“Told you he was a sore loser,” Angel chuckled as he shuffled the deck of cards.

“Shut the fuck up,” EZ laughed as he threw a loose bottlecap at his brother.

Despite Angel being the one to shuffle the cards, EZ was looking at another loss. You were kind enough not to say anything, but the look in his eyes as you smiled across the table at him let you know that he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“You’re about to go 0 for 3, little brother,” Angel laughed as he put a card down.

“Thank you, Angel, I wasn’t aware,” EZ chuckled and shook his head as he looked over the cards in his hands.

You stretched your legs out underneath the coffee table, not realizing that Ezekiel had done the same thing not too long before you. Your foot brushed lightly along the inside of his thigh as you stretched and he instantly jerked his leg, causing his knee to slam into the bottom side of the table. He cursed under his breath and Angel looked completely lost, not having realized what happened.

You, however, were sitting there with a smirk on your face as EZ looked over at you. The look in his eyes gave him away and you could see him make a concentrated effort to take a deep breath.

“Suck it,” Angel completely moved on from the tension between you and EZ as he threw down his last card, “Alright. That’s it. I’m out,” he slowly rose to his feet.

“Leaving already?” you laughed as you looked up at him.

“Already? Listen, querida, you make me take any more shots I won’t be able to ride home. Some of us have shit to do tomorrow. Imma take my win and leave,” he walked over and kissed the top of your head, “Keep whooping his ass for me. It’s good for him.”

He and EZ gave each other a brief hug, EZ not getting off the floor to do so. Angel looked back and forth between the two of you one more time before shaking his head and making his way for the door. Once it shut behind him, you looked back to EZ with a smile.

“Just you and me now, Ezekiel,” you said as you placed a card on top of the one Angel had just laid down.

“Yea, Angel isn’t here to team up on me with you anymore. You’re done for,” he chuckled.

That was the last thing that was said between the two of you for a few turns. You kept looking at each other, trying to figure out what the other was thinking as if it weren’t already painstakingly obvious.

“Uno,” you said as you got yourself down to one card. You paused, waiting for EZ to get enthralled with making his next card choice, “How’s your knee, by the way?”

He flicked his eyes up to you, “It’s fine.”

“Oh,” you nodded, a smirk on your face, “good.”

He lowered his cards, “What?”

You shook your head, “Just wondering. Sounded like it hurt. Thought it might’ve thrown off your game a little bit.”

He narrowed his eyes at you as he set a card down, “I’ll be alright. Draw four,” he pushed the bottle towards you.

You chuckled as you poured yourself a shot and got back into the game. The two of you were able to drag it on for a while. By the time you were getting towards the end of it, both of you were kneeling, leaning onto the coffee table as you tried to beat each other to the last card. You were down to two cards left, EZ only had four. But you could see him sweating it out, not wanting to have yet another loss for the night.

You laid a card down, chuckling as you said, “Uno.”

He groaned, clearly agonizing over which card he was going to put down next. You bit back a laugh, not wanting him to accuse you of trying to distract him. With a deep sigh he finally picked a card and set it on top of the deck between you. You looked back and forth between that card and the one in your hand multiple times, dragging it out.

Finally, you looked up at him and smile, laying the card down, “Take a shot, Reyes.”

His eyes grew wide as he looked down at the draw four that was staring him in the face. He looked up at you, “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Read ‘em and weep,” you laughed as you sat back on the carpet.

“You’re so done,” EZ laughed as he stood up off the floor.

You let out a scream that turned into a laugh as you jumped up off the ground, trying to run to your bedroom and shut the door before EZ could get to you, “Angel’s right, you are a sore loser,” you laughed as you scrambled.

You threw open the door to your bedroom and were about to jump inside when you felt an arm wrap around your waist, his hand landing firmly on your stomach as he pulled you back towards him. You laughed as he spun you around, but your breath quickly got caught in your throat when you realized how close he was to you.

“I won fair and square,” you tried not to let your nerves shine through.

“Fair and square seems like a stretch,” he chuckled.

You couldn’t help but to focus on the way his fingers pressed into your skin. You swallowed hard, “Why is it more likely that I cheated than me just being better than you at Uno?” you laughed, “What you do want, a consolation prize?”

As soon as you said it, you almost wanted to take it back. Almost. EZ smirked, “What kind of consolation prize?”

You wanted to look anywhere but at him because you could feel what little resolve you had fading away quickly, “What’re you thinking, EZ Reyes?”

He leaned in close so that his lips were practically touching yours, but not quite. You took a deep breath before closing what little distance was left, hands resting on the back of his neck to keep his lips pressed to yours. When it clicked in his brain what was happening, that you wanted the same thing he did, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, pressing your chest flush against his as he kissed you. Your fingers traced along his jawline as his lips moved against yours—it was everything that you had thought it would be and then some.

When you finally took your lips off of his, you both let out quiet chuckles. EZ loosened his hold on your waist slightly, pulling back so he could get a better look at your face.

You smiled at him, “That a good enough consolation prize?”

He laughed, nodding, “I’d say so. I’m willing to forgive you for rigging the deck for that.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes x you #ez reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes imagine #ezekiel reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes fanfic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

311 notes · View notes

raleighcarrera · 3 years

Text

hushed

the royal masquerade | hunter fierro x mc (juliet rosario)

hunter & juliet return to the library. for @trmaw 🖤

~2k words | E (18+)

“so...” hunter murmurs, the seriousness implied in the low tone of his voice betrayed by the way one corner of his mouth is lifted in an improper smirk, “this is the library.”

despite herself, she’s as charmed as ever by his absurdity. juliet huffs out a laugh under her breath, slowly shaking her head. “i can’t believe you’ve never stepped inside.”

“i was rather busy with a few other things.” his smirk widens. “plus, you know me. i’m not exactly one for being quiet.”

she hums, the sound bordering on the edge of disapproving. she knows exactly what hunter of house fierro has been doing instead of reading in the library. the reason they never crossed paths in her past is because before her, hunter spent most of his free time bedding the women who’d followed him around town, ignoring the signs that his sister was capable of murder and plotting behind his back.

the expression on his face remains perfectly innocent even as her eyebrows arch at him disapprovingly. “right,” juliet laughs finally, “of course. how could i forget?”

“you have a lot on your mind,” hunter answers graciously, his eyes sparkling. “of course i forgive you.”

“quite kind of you.” her hands remain folded in front of her as she inclines her head down one row of tomes. “this is where i spent most of my time. transcribing for the archives.”

“indeed,” hunter hums, stepping up beside her to squeeze her hand before continuing down the row of the archives, looking every bit the king regent he no longer is. despite the fact that the title has eluded him, there’s something about hunter that will always look regal, the tilt of his shoulders and the cut of his clothes simply screaming status.

she follows behind him, eyes scanning the titles they pass. it’s been a long time since she’s been in the library, but the smell of the dusty old manuscripts she spent so many hours meticulously logging stirs up a host of unpleasant memories that threaten to take her over. she can still feel the phantom rap of a ruler against her knuckles when she’d dozed off, the ache of hunger in her stomach when it’d been an entire day of writing with no breaks for food.

“juliet?” the sound of her name startles her from her stupor, and she shakes her head, moving to meet up with hunter where he’s stopped halfway down the aisle. “are you alright?”

“just lost in a memory,” she murmurs, lips lifting up into a smile. just the sight of him brightens her spirits, the affection in hunter’s eyes a welcome reminder that her reality is different, now.

they’ve come so far.

as if reading her mind, hunter lifts her knuckles to his mouth to brush a tender kiss against her fingers, shooting her a look of love from under lush lashes. her smile widens into something more genuine.

“perhaps we should work to give you a more positive memory of this room,” he suggests, glancing over his own shoulder.

juliet blinks at him. “what do you mean?”

the expression on hunter’s face transforms, from sweet to wicked in a matter of moments. his hand slides around her waist to pull her closer, until they’re nearly nose-to-nose in the archive stacks.

it’s then that she understands what he must mean, and she feels heat rush to her face in embarrassment, as though someone’s already caught them acting untoward.

but there’s no one around as far as she can see; the library is empty. it’s a beautiful afternoon, and she knows mostly everyone is outside taking advantage of the weather. they’re the only two people hidden away in the library, though the sudden sound of her racing pulse feels so loud she wonders how it hasn’t attracted anyone else yet.

“you can’t be serious,” juliet hears herself say, distantly. it feels like the appropriate thing to say. they can’t possibly...

“oh, i’m very serious,” hunter assures her, his hand warm at the small of her back where he’s rubbing soothing circles into her skin above her dress. “it’s only logical.”

her hands come to rest on his shoulders as hunter beckons her closer. “how do you figure?”

“the library was cruel to you. i’ll be generous to make up for it.” she can feel the fabric of her skirt shift as hunter’s free hand ever-so-slowly pulls at the fabric. “what do you say?”

in response, juliet turns her head and kisses him before she can think too much about it, brushing her lips against his gently, at first, and then more eagerly when hunter kisses her back.

there’s at least a thousand reasons why they shouldn’t be doing this -- not here and not now -- but she finds she can’t be bothered as she considers hunter’s logic and decides he’s ultimately right.

the library took so much from her. many of her most hopeless moments occurred in this very room. it’s hard to find a dark corner of the library she hadn’t stowed away in to cry at one point or another, so if she’s able to kiss her betrothed in the middle of the stacks, with sunlight streaming in through the grand, stained-glass windows, why shouldn’t she?

hunter’s movements are slow as his hand lifts her skirt up, higher and higher until it’s officially indecent for the library, laying her bare against the books. their kiss breaks so they can both draw breath, and she pushes up onto her tip-toes to lock eyes with him, back arching to press her body alongside hunter’s.

“you’re quite radiant, you know,” he comments absently as his fingers encircle her thigh, creeping around her leg to dance upwards. his tone is so conversational anyone browsing the records on the other side of the library would never imagine what they were doing, if they happened to overhear. “beautiful, really.”

“you think so?” juliet asks, her eyelashes fluttering. she can hear her breath growing embarrassingly quicker as hunter’s touch climbs higher and higher.

“of course,” hunter murmurs, eyes fixed firmly on her face. from anyone else, the staring might be unnerving, but when he’s the one looking at her, it’s hard to feel anything other than delight.

hunter is not shy about letting her know he is in her thoughts. he is the most forthcoming man she’s ever spoken to (not that he has much competition) and revels in showcasing his affections openly and honestly. he is romantic, in a way she’d never expected -- she often finds herself the recipient of flowers and surprise moonlight strolls and now, it seems, amorous breaks in the library.

yet he still catches her by surprise with his sweetness every time.

“i daresay a majority of the kingdom feels the same,” he continues. before she can challenge him, his fingers pause, parting her so the pad of his thumb can press in with an easy slide where she’s already wet. “you have many admirers.”

her laugh is breathless, the grip she has on his shoulders tightening. “quite a comment, coming from you.”

hunter’s answering chuckle makes her toes curl in her shoes. juliet forces her eyes open and her breath catches at the expression on his face, serious and wanting with intensity and gentleness both displayed in his eyes in equal measure.

his thumb circles her, catching just right where she’s most sensitive, the practiced movement of his fingers comforting, for their familiarity. hunter knows her. for someone like juliet, who went much of her life without that very basic comfort, their intimacy is everything. knowing she can rely on hunter to understand her, to take care of her, to treat her like he does...

it’s all she’s ever wanted and more.

“don’t be smart,” hunter chides, though the curve of his mouth seems to suggest he’s amused. his hand continues to move, which is all that matters, anyway, the brush of his thumb pressing into something more purposeful while his wrist angles just so.

“i can’t help it,” juliet murmurs, aiming for cheeky and landing somewhere very far off, her voice almost shy as she resists the urge to bury her flushed face in hunter’s shoulder. “hunter.”

“yes, darling?” hunter’s free hand, bunched in her skirt, jerks to urge her closer. as she moves, his fingers slip deeper, sending a shiver down her spine. “everything alright?”

his voice is teasing, and yet she can’t find the words to bicker back with him. she can’t find any words at all, actually, exhaling a sound that’s half-moan, half-sigh as hunter touches her so expertly. her eyelids flutter shut again.

hunter gives another soft laugh under his breath. “there you go,” he encourages, and she shudders again.

despite the fact that they’re so clearly the only ones in the library, she can’t quite bring herself to get loud, hushed out of habit and by the implication of where they are and what they’re doing. her teeth bite down on her bottom lip, yet they don’t stop another groan from escaping, louder this time against her best efforts.

the skilled stroking of hunter’s fingers is quick to make her head swim, so she’s grateful for the firm kiss he bestows against her lips when his head angles in. juliet relies on him to keep her upright, holding tightly to hunter’s broad shoulders while his touch never falters, relentless between her legs.

she rocks up onto her tip-toes, scrambling for purchase against him. often, they’re in bed together when they do this, and it’s rare that her legs are left trembling while she’s still vertical, save one or two memorable occasions in the bathhouse. this is sure to be an experience she’ll never forget, and she’s certain she won’t ever be able to look in the direction of the library again without recalling the expression on hunter’s face.

though there’s worse things, she supposes, as she watches him watch her so intently. hunter’s eyes never fail to make her feel desired, and especially now, only heighten her emotions as she climbs faster and faster to an edge.

“so beautiful, juliet,” hunter murmurs softly, gaze adoring where it’s set on hers. “stunning.”

his gentle encouragement is all she needs to tumble to pieces. with one last gasping inhale, she shakes apart against him, biting down hard on the inside of her cheek to try and keep herself quiet. pleasure courses through her in a rush, and she’s grateful for hunter’s solid presence at the shelves to help her through it, his touch coaxing a few more sighs from her lips before she eventually calms and goes still.

her chest rises and falls rapidly as she works to catch her breath, and when she’s finally able to open her eyes, juliet finds hunter smiling indulgently at her, the expression on his face suggesting he’s just observed some grand entertainment.

“you seem awfully pleased with yourself,” she mutters, lifting a hand from his shoulder to push her own hair back out of her face.

“wouldn’t you be?” hunter asks smugly, finally pulling his hand out from under her skirt. the fabric drops down to the floor, swishing back across her knees, and juliet presses her legs together, twisting to shift her undergarments back into place.

“i suppose,” she allows with a laugh, her own mouth curving into a grin as hunter moves to adjust his pants. he seems to know what she does, which is that they’ve already pressed their luck to its limits, being in here as long as they have. extending their time in the library any further seems to be asking for consequences.

still, hunter’s hands move to grasp her chin lightly between his fingers, and he draws her into a soft, slow kiss, lips meandering as though they have all the time in the world.

she relaxes against him, kissing back just as sweetly. it hardly matters if someone catches her now, after all. there’ll be no ruler whacked against her knuckles, this time. there’s no tomes to transcribe, no archives to maintain.

the sun continues to stream into the room through the stained glass, casting water colors in shadow across their bodies where they’re intertwined. hunter pulls back to smile at her and she mirrors his expression easily, her heart pounding with love --

with joy --

-- and with peace.

#trmaw #the royal masquerade #hunter fierro #hunter fierro x mc #myfic #long post #ns*w

26 notes · View notes

blrush · 3 years

Text

If Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding was a serious drama with hour long episodes - Part 2: Newlyweds.

In his dream Ho Seon was blind, reaching out for something he could not find. Lights and shadows danced around him, but he couldn’t find what he was looking for. Drowning in confusion and a profound sense of loneliness, he kept reaching out and stumbling through empty space. Then his hands fell upon a face - he drew his fingers across smooth skin, tracing the outlines of features – the curvature of a small button nose, heart shaped lips – Ahhh, he knew this person, this was his person, he felt relieved, calmed and reassured – the dream faded away and he fell back into a deep drunken sleep.

As morning light filtered into the room, Ho Seon awoke to the same sense of loneliness. The bed was cold and empty beside him, as it was every morning. He rubbed cracked sleep from his eyes and saliva from his cheek, his mouth was still furry from alcohol. Then the events of the night before came flooding back – drunk, celebrating, the wedding – THE WEDDING! He was married. He looked around the room, and found the figure of a woman sitting away from him, her back turned as she tied her robes. Had she slept beside him? Had they slept together? No impossible, if he had been too drunk to remember the events of the evening then he certainly would have been too drunk to participate in any marriage nuptials.

What must she think of him? To get himself so drunk, and pay her no attention on their wedding night. But he had been so scared, so desperately at a loss as to how to behave, or how to speak to her. This wedding was a sham, and his overriding guilt had made him drink himself into a stupor. She must have figured out something was wrong – what kind of noble marriage is organised in a fortnight, and then rushed through without her family or any friends present? She must have felt like a prize pig, being trundled up and carted off to some town she’d never visited, to marry a man she’d never even met.

Worst of all, she didn’t know the true flaws of her new husband, nor the real reason for this pretence. How disappointed she would be when she found out.

Even if he had been sober on their wedding night, he would not have been able to consummate their marriage. He had only been with a woman once, and once was enough for him. The thought of lying with a woman had never appealed to him – when his friends had come of age, they began visiting bars and brothels, eagerly encouraging him to join them. The only time he had been with a woman was with a kisaeng on a visit to the city.

His friends had insisted that he “wet his whistle”, as he was getting too old to be a virgin. They were all drinking happily with kisaeng girls in their laps, and were slowly peeling off to their rooms for the night. He had barely spoken to the girl beside him, who eventually gave up, and was attending far more diligently to his friend, who now had two girls on either side of him, playfully planting kisses on his cheeks and giggling with each other. When it was time to retire, his friend pulled him up by his collar, and dragged him with them to their room. The women began undressing them both, kissing his chest and running long fingers-nails up and down his arms. His nerves and discomfort must have been evident to the experienced kisaeng woman who gently guided him into the activities, placing her hand over his, and telling him where to touch herself and other girl. It was all overwhelming and confusing. His senses felt heightened, and his nervous energy was dancing about his body. Eventually, in the dark milieu of bodies, he accidentally touched his friend’s body – his broad flat chest and stomach felt taught and firm, completely different from the women, and it sent a ripple of arousal shooting through him – he kept touching. Slowly, his friend noticed, and quickly drew himself back, placing one of the girls between them. The shame of that moment had stayed with him for years, and he had not had the courage to sleep with another woman, or man, since.

Of course, he could not hide this disinterest in courtship from his mother for long. He was certain she would catch on, even if he would joking brush off her questions with a charming smile that would show his dimples and say; “Oh but Mother, you know I could never leave you!” or “But Mother, no woman could ever live up to you!” His mother was a warm and kind person, but she was no fool – she was a keen observer of people’s moods and behaviours, she always said she could spot a crook, swindler, or cheat a mile away.

He had once had a friend from school whom he played with often, but his mother would always warn him “Don’t get too close to that boy, he’s no good – he’ll betray you one day.” Their friendship eventually broke down after he stole a valuable book from Ho Seon, and years later when they crossed paths, he had boasted that he “had so many wives and courtesans” that he “could never tell which child belonged to which woman.”

And so, he knew he could never fool a mother such as his – but he was happy living in denial for as long as he could. Whilst it took him by surprise, he was thus not so utterly shocked when she announced she had “had enough” of his “indecision and adolescent brooding” and that she had told his great-uncle in the city to find him a fit young wife as soon as possible.

Ho Seon also knew, deep down, that there was something more to it than just her stubbornness, or any sort of social pressure. His mother had been growing weaker each year, losing her vision and the dexterity in her hands. He noticed that she no longer enjoyed sewing or drawing, she who had once been such an accomplished and artistic lady – now preferred to spend her time weeding the garden or walking. Every turn of season, as winter came around, she would be laid up in the house for weeks, with a cough so hoarse and violent that he feared she would soon lose her voice all together. She was desperate for him to marry, not only so there would be more young women around the manor to help her – but he suspected, so that she could be sure their family line was secure, and that Ho Seon could provide her with grandchildren before she passed away.

On his first morning as a newlywed, he thus did not feel a sense of joy or excitement, but a sad kind of submission to his new life and a guilt and pity for the girl sat before him – who would be resigned, unknowingly, to a marriage to a man who could not truly ever love her or tend to her in the way a husband should.

No. That was not fair. He should strive instead to be a good husband, to dote on her and care for her as much as he could. When it came to physical intimacy, he would have to speak with her candidly, and be honest about his feelings. But, if she was a young maid this might all be too shocking – what if she is so disgusted by him that she never spoke to him again? What if she reports him to his family or the court, or demands an annulment?  He would have to careful. He would have to get to know her first, to determine her character properly, before deciding how much he should tell her, or how much he could trust her.

He sat up, and cleared his throat so she would know he was awake. She turned slowly toward him and gave a small bow of her head. She was indeed a beauty, but unusual looking all the same. A king of striking beauty, rather than the soft round faces of the young maids in town, or the plump young pregnant wives of his friends – she had more angular features and sharp narrow eyes, that seemed to observe him with a severity and maturity that he did not expect from someone so young – as if she might pull a dagger out from her sleeve at any moment if he moved the wrong way.

“Good morning.” He began, unsure of himself, but wanting to put her at ease. He raised himself up onto his knees. “I’m sorry I drank so much last night. Please excuse my behaviour.” He gave a deep bow.

~ ~ ~

Ho Seon was on his hands and knees on the bed, bowing toward Ki Wan. He didn’t know how to respond. It seemed Ho Seon was impossible to predict. Ki Wan had expected the arrogant bravado of a wealthy only-son of a noble family – and yet was confronted last night and now again this morning, with a gentle, humble, young man whose manner seemed so deeply genuine that it was making Ki Wan feel embarrassed. He felt like he was playing a trick on a child. He must come clean. But how could he reveal himself now? To do so would be to make a fool out of Ho Seon and ruin any chance Ki Wan might have of salvaging a plan, an alliance, or even a friendship with the man. So, he continued to stay quiet – fearing that his voice alone might give the game away. He nodded politely to acknowledge Ho Seon’s gesture, and when Ho Seon smiled at him – he felt himself smile back.

“Shall we go find breakfast?” Ho Seon began, brightly.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Ki Wan felt panicked for a moment, before a woman’s voice came muffled through the doors.

“It’s only me! Are you two awake? Would you like some breakfast?”

Ho Seon rolled his eyes pointedly, and mouthed “my mother” at Ki Wan, who felt himself smiling again. His stomach was in knots, he was so filled with guilt and fear that he felt sick – and yet Ho Seon was so effortlessly charming, his kindness was so disarming, that Ki Wan felt an immediate sense of kindship and attraction – he wanted to be friends with this nobleman – and perhaps, if they had met under different circumstances, they could have been.

More gentle rapping at the door, and then Ho Seon’s mother announced more loudly “Are you awake? I’m coming in.”

Suddenly Ho Seon was a flurry of movement, he jumped up, messed up all the bedding, threw a pillow halfway across the room, and raced over to sit beside Ki Wan. Ki Wan gave Ho Seon a look of confusion, at which Ho Seon gave back an obtuse expression as if to say “You knowwww…” and leaned close to Ki Wan.

“So it looks like we… ” Ho Seon whispered to Ki Wan, his face intentionally turned away from the door – his cheek almost brushing Ki Wan’s own, as he leaned in close.

Oh. Ki Wan had read about these things before, and seen illustrations. He understood perfectly well – in theory – what was expected of a man and woman on their wedding night, but the thought suddenly made him blush.

It was precisely then, of course, that Ho Seon’s mother opened the door and entered the room. Finding them sitting conspiratorially close, Ki Wan blushing quite literally ‘like a bride’. She looked overjoyed at the sight, as she carried in a tray of breakfast.

“I know I should have sent the maid.” She began, “But I was too excited to see you!”

She lay the tray down on the table and sat herself down opposite them. She eyed the bedding, strewn across the room and giggled to herself.

“I remember when your father and I were first married, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other!” She laughed.

“Mother!” Ho Seon objected.

“What!? You’re a married man now! You can’t be shy about these things!” She gave him a playful slap on the arm.

“You will embarrass her!”

“Ahhh yes, yes. Sorry dear. Please don’t mind me, I’m just an old widow – I speak too freely. You will get used to it.” She smiled openly at Ki Wan, her cloudy grey eyes crinkling shut, and her deep dimples still visible beneath her wrinkles and laugh lines. There was no mistaking that Ho Seon was indeed her son.

Suddenly Ki Wan felt filled with motivation – if he could keep up his charade, perhaps he could really be welcomed into this family as a daughter in-law. Wouldn’t it be nice to be surrounded by such kind and loving people who smiled so much? But how? Perhaps just for a little while, and then he would run away, feign a kidnapping, or an affair, or better yet – his own death. And then what? Go back to his life as Ki Wan? What was so appealing about that? He had no trade or skill, he was an under-educated noble-man from a fallen family without connections to get him a decent court job. No, it seemed the best chance at a life that would keep his belly full and a roof over his head would be to stay here. His only option was to somehow make an ally of his husband. In his desperation and loyalty to his own family, he had unwittingly made himself a prisoner of this family, and of his own lie that he was now forced to follow through.

“Come, eat – you must both be hungry!” She laughed again.

Ki Wan began to help himself, before remembering there was probably some custom or etiquette he was forgetting – was he supposed to serve his husband first? He had no idea. Luckily Neither Ho Seon nor his mother seemed phased, as they had both started eating. Ho Seon simply filled Ki Wan’s bowl with more food, and poured them both some tea. If Ho Seon made one more kind gesture, Ki Wan feared he may break down and cry.

“Come here daughter!” His mother in-law chimed up. “Let me look at you properly.”

Ki Wan sat frozen in his place, if he got too close – surely she would notice! He looked to Ho Seon who was obliviously munching on his breakfast happily.

“Come on! I don’t bite I promise!” She demanded.

Ki Wan shuffled closer to her around the table, his heat beat erratic. He kept trying to look down at his hands. She then reached up to grab his chin, turning his face this way and that – she moved her own face closer and then further away, like she was examining a chip or crack in some piece of fine porcelain, deciding whether to fix it or throw it away.

“My eyesight’s not what it used to me” she said, “But I can tell you are a real beauty. Let me see your hands.” He was practically shaking! Surely, she would tell by his hands! She grabbed at them, turning them over, feeling the skin between her own small papery palms.

“Good! Strong hands, not too soft!” She declared, “I can’t stand women who don’t do any work. I don’t like to keep too many maids – I hate having strangers in my house. I’ve kept the same maids since I was married, and I won’t be hiring a new one for you until you have children. So, I hope you are happy to tend to some of your own chores, we all chip-in around here.”

Ki Wan felt she needed an answer to this, so he gave a simple but firm “Mmm!” in as high a pitch as he could manage without it sounding put-on.

After breakfast, Ho Seon’s mother took Ki Wan on a tour of the manor - showing her which buildings were for what purposes, which gardens Ki Wan was free to use, pointing out with pride the recent flowers and plants she had been growing.

Ho Seon fell in step behind them, letting his mother chatter away happily with her new companion – who she didn’t let go of even for a moment - clutching onto Ki Wan’s arm the entire time. At first Ki Wan thought she was just so pleased to have a daughter in-law, but after a while, he realised she was using him more for balance and strength.

“You don’t talk much!” She proclaimed at one point. It didn’t sound accusatory, more of an observation.

“She’s just shy mother.” Ho Seon piped up from behind them, “You can be very intimidating you know. How could she get a word in anyway?”

His mother laughed at this, “You’re right haha! I do talk too much! Sorry dear, you take your time once you’ve gotten used to life here, feel free to speak openly with me – no need to be formal or stand on ceremony.”

Ki Wan was grateful, once again he had managed to avoid the issue of speaking. His natural voice was not so deep that it would give him away as a man, but it was deep enough that if he tried too hard to put on a woman’s voice, or raise his pitch too much, it would sound forced and that was what he feared would give him away.

~ ~ ~

In the evening Ho Seon’s mother mentioned that should like to have some dresses made up for Ki Wan, and that she would need to take her measurements. The look of abject horror on Ki Wan’s face must have been enough for Ho Seon to jump to her defence and make an excuse.

“I think my wife is a little tired mother, it’s been a long day in a new home, I think we should just go and rest.”

“Oh ho! I see” She looked knowingly, “I know how much you must want to “rest” haHA!” She joked in her usual good-natured way. “But I do need those measurements if I am to send them off to the seamstress. Your wife only bought one good dress you know! No daughter of the Ryu family can be seen wearing the same single garment every day, people will think we’re gone broke!”

“Yes yes, okay mother.” Ho Seon replied, “We can manage it ourselves I’m sure, just lend me the tape and we will give you her measurements tomorrow.”

~ ~ ~

In their bridal house alone once again, Ki Wan realised he was indeed as tired as Ho Seon had claimed. The emotion and exhaustion of the last two days had caught up to him, he had barely slept the last two nights – preparing himself at home, then being on watch all last night, hoping Ho Seon had drunk enough not to wake up or drunkenly attempt to consummate their marriage. All day, around his mother, Ki Wan had been supressing his natural self – don’t move too much, don’t speak, don’t laugh. It was totally unnatural and he was completely drained.

Whilst Ho Seon tended to the heating and the candles, Ki Wan began removing his hair pins, and taking off his jacket without even thinking about what he was doing. Somehow, alone in this little room – he had already accepted this as his new home, a space where he felt safe and comfortable.

Ho Seon had removed his hat and his own outer-layer and was standing somewhat awkwardly aside, fiddling with something in his hand.

“I suppose, we should take your measurements for my mother – otherwise she will not leave you in peace tomorrow.”

Ki Wan nodded. Ho Seon fiddled with the tape in his hand then almost tossed it at Ki Wan, before getting out a piece of parchment, some ink, and seating himself down at the table.

He cleared his throat “If you take the measurements, I will write them down for you.”

Ki Wan nodded again, and began unravelling the tape. He had helped his sister with this task once before, but it was a lot easier to do on someone else than on one’s self. He stretched the tape out, holding it taught between his fingers in one hand, and pulling it up to his shoulder with the other. He repeated this step with the other arm, though the tape came lose this time from his fingers and he had to start again.

Ho Seon stood up from the table. “May I …. Would you like me to help?”

Frustrated, but grateful, Ki Wan nodded again. This was all so absurd, but the sooner they could complete the task the sooner Ki Wan could fall asleep – and then all these problems would seem like a dream, and he wouldn’t have to worry about it all again until morning. The bed looked so warm and inviting, and he hadn’t even been able to sleep on it last night. Ho Seon approached him cautiously in the half-light, and Ki Wan handed him the tape.

~ ~ ~

Standing in front of his new wife in the candle-light, Ho Seon was once again struck by her beauty. Her distinctive bone structure was casting incredible shadows across her face and bare skin where she had removed her jacket. The white ribbons of her undergarments only accentuated the shape of her collarbones more, and he couldn’t help but stare.

He must have been staring too openly, as she brought her arms up to cover herself more, hugging her shoulder and covering her chest. She looked frightened. He shook himself and took a small step back, averting his eyes to the floor.

“Sorry.” He said. “I shouldn’t have stared. I will just take the measurements. Sorry if I touch you, I will try not to.”

He took the tape and began focusing on his task, trying desperately to look only at the tape and not her body. As he worked back and forth between her and his parchment, where he scribbled the measurements, he thought to himself; why do I feel so nervous? She is my wife, surely, I am allowed to look at her and admire her? But when before had he ever wanted to admire the form and body of a woman? This was an entirely new development. Perhaps because she was his wife? Perhaps he felt differently toward her than other women? Was this what happened when you were married? Perhaps one is instinctively drawn to their spouse in a way that does not apply other people?

But, regardless of his own new feelings, or his desire and curiosity to explore them, she was clearly still uncomfortable around him. She still refused to speak, she seemed perpetually guarded and fearful. Yet, it did not strike him that she was fearful of him, rather she was on edge – fearful of everything around her, like she was going to run away at any moment. Indeed, he sensed she was somehow calmer around him than his mother – which seemed to him to be counter-intuitive for a young bride.

He took a step closer, and reached the tape gently around her ribcage and brought it together under her breastbone. They were standing so close now, as he looked down he could have smelled her hair or kissed her forehead. He watched her chest quickly moving up and down with her breath, and he fought the urge to touch her there. It would have been uninvited, and he had promised not to.

For the last measurements, he first took one end of the tape and held it against the top of her shoulder.

“Hold this, please.” He asked her. He felt he had barely whispered it, but the room was so quiet that his voice seemed to echo in the space. He could hear her breathing, short and sharp like she was trying to control it or stop herself from making any sound. Why was she so scared? What kind of home life had she come from, or what kind of married life had she been expecting that she should have reason to be so scared? He drew the tape down to floor where the touched the top of her foot. Then he tugged on it for her to let go. Kneeling down in front of her, he took the tape once more – this time wrapping it around her hips, pulling it tightly to compensate for her large skirts, holding it in place with his hand on her lower abdomen.

Whilst reading the tape he felt her move just slightly and her breath almost stop, as if she was holding it. Out of the corner of his eye his saw her hand move from her side toward him. At first, he thought she was going to push him away, but instead all he felt was the most delicate of touches - she drew the back of her hand softly across his temple, from his brow to his ear, as if she was wiping away a bead of sweat. Then, she quickly withdrew her hand and stepped away from him – leaving him frozen, kneeling on the floor.

TBC (Other parts here!)

Authors Note: Well this is getting VERY out of hand, I’m now at like 8000 words and this is just scenes based only on the first 2 episodes haha

I have changed a lot of the plot from the show for the sake of my own continuity, and to raise the tension and the drama cause we need some FLAVOUR. Namely, I have kept KiWan’s identity and gender a secret for the TENSION and have established Ho Seon as gay, for the dramatic irony. Get ready for some ANGST in the next chapters, shit’s gonna get real.

Note: Kiseang were Joseon era courtesans and sex-workers. Not that historical accuracy is top of my priority list haha

I think I will have to post on AO3 for ease of reading and keeping track. Link to come when I have time tomorrow.

Sorry this is still unedited - but if I keep going I will ask for a beta haha

Enjoy!

#nobleman ryu's wedding #nobleman ryus wedding #kdrama fic #fanfic #korean bl #bl fic #historical bl #ryu ho seon #choi ki wan #Lee Sejin #kang insoo #korean drama #kdrama #bl series #bl couple #wetv

58 notes · View notes

lady-salvatore · 4 years

Text

Beauty and the Beast

pairing: klaus mikaelson x reader

desc.: you’re in need of a place to stay, just for a few weeks until you can get an apartment. klaus is happy to provide... but a few weeks can change a lot of things.

You were in your car, trying your best to curl up in the backseat.

Your friends were traitors. Your boyfriend— ex-boyfriend— Damon was cheating on you behind your back, with your best friend Elena, no less. If that wasn’t bad enough, the rest of your friends knew, but didn’t have the heart to tell you.

So here you were, alone in a parking lot in Mystic Falls at night. You let the tears fall down your face. You’d probably get killed before the night was over.

A tapping sounded on your window. You shot up, alarmed.

Klaus Mikaelson stood outside with a smirk on his face, waving.

You rolled down your window. “If you’re going to kill me, at least make it quick.”

“Tempting offer, but I think you’re more useful alive, love,” he purred. “Just in case those pesky Salvatores are up to no good.”

“Yeah, well, I’m done with the Salvatores. So, kill me or leave me to die.”

Klaus pouted. “This is disappointing. Where’s your fire?”

“Got blown out. Long story,” you replied.

He furrowed his eyebrows in what seemed to be genuine concern. “It’s always a pleasure, (Y/N), but these circumstances seem a bit grim. Do tell, why are you in your car at midnight?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was to get a midnight snack?”

Klaus’s eyes burned into yours seriously. “I would not.”

You sighed deeply, realizing that he wasn’t going to leave you alone. “Fine. I’m kind of homeless right now.”

“Come stay with me,” he blurted out.

You were stunned when you turned to him. “What?”

Klaus’s eyes darted around your car. “What kind of man would I be if I left you out here alone? Elijah would kill me.”

“What do you want?” you asked suspiciously.

“Can’t I do something nice without wanting something in return?” Klaus pouted at you. “No strings attached, love.”

You thought about it. On one hand, Klaus was evil, and had killed a lot of people you cared about.

On the other, your car was cold and you didn’t have anywhere else to go.

“Okay,” you said cautiously. “Just until I’ve got an apartment.”

Klaus smiled. “Fantastic.”

You were brought to Klaus’s Mystic Falls mansion. You had to admit— there were worse places to be, even if your temporary roommate was a murderer.

As the two of you went through the doors, Klaus breathed in deeply.

“There’s a room for you upstairs,” Klaus said. “Follow me.”

Then, he quickly sped off to the second floor.

“Um, human!” you called up the staircase. You felt wind sweep around you, and suddenly you were in a large bedroom.

“Sorry, love,” Klaus said.

You looked around the room. It was beautiful and luxurious, with a ridiculous king-sized bed against the far wall.

“Wow,” you whispered. “You live like this?”

Klaus chuckled. “I figure you’re tired. Goodnight, (Y/N).”

Klaus went to leave.

“That’s it? No innuendos, no passes at me?”

“Why, did you want any?”

“No,” you mumbled. “I just thought it was a given with you.”

He laughed, his dimples showing. He shook his head and closed the door behind him.

Alone, you curled up in your bed and tried to sleep.

The next morning, you were ushered to breakfast by some compelled human.

“What? Where are we going?” you asked as you helplessly went down the stairs.

“Klaus wants breakfast with you,” she replied mindlessly.

“Does he even eat breakfast?” you yelled.

“It’s the most important meal of the day!” you heard Klaus call from the dining room. “Even for pure evil!”

You rolled your eyes as you went through the doors to the dining room. Then, you froze.

“Wow...”

Laid in front of you was a huge buffet— waffles, pancakes, eggs, fresh fruit, and everything else. It was like Christmas.

At the head of the table, Klaus grinned. “Hungry?”

You nodded and sat in a chair, never one to refuse a good breakfast.

“Why all this?” you asked as you took a bite of a waffle.

Klaus shrugged. “I like to entertain.”

You laughed softly. “Well, call me amused.”

“You were right last night, you know,” Klaus said.

You raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

“I do want something.” He took a sip from a glass in front of him that you guessed was blood. “I want to know what happened between you and the Salvatore brother.”

You took a deep breath, a knot forming in your throat. “Damon cheated on me. All my friends knew about it and didn’t tell me, so... I left.”

Klaus furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I didn’t realize he was that stupid,” Klaus muttered, seemingly to himself.

You smiled a little. “Apparently he is.”

“When you have someone like you, you shouldn’t let them go.” Klaus’s eyes pierced yours in a way that made you blush. “Why ruin something so perfect?”

You looked down at your plate. “It’s kind of you to say that.”

Klaus laughed softly. “Kind. I don’t get that often.”

“You don’t act it often,” you replied. “But you’ve been on your best behavior since you found me last night.”

He smiled, and said nothing else.

That day, you wandered the mansion. It was bigger than it looked. Klaus may have been evil, but he had taste when it came to decor.

Soon, you found yourself outside a drawing room. Klaus was inside, staring at a blank canvas.

“What are you painting?” you asked, going to sit near him.

“Nothing, currently,” he replied, not bothering to look at you. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t have much to do,” you admitted. “So I figured I’d annoy you.”

Klaus smirked. “You’re only an annoyance when allied against me.”

You laughed, and he looked at you.

“Do me a favor,” he said. “Sit over there.”

You moved your stool across from him, barely able to see him behind his canvas.

He narrowed his eyes and went over to you. He gently grabbed your face and moved it around until he was satisfied with the angle.

“What are you doing?” you asked as he went back over to his easel.

“I like the way the light catches your eyes,” he muttered, moving his brush against the canvas. “The colors are just...”

“You’re painting me?”

“You’re the finest piece of art in this house at the moment,” he replied, distracted.

You felt your face heat up. “Didn’t peg you for a liar, Mikaelson.”

Klaus looked at you seriously, like he was studying you. “That’s because I’m not.”

“I wish Damon felt the same way,” you mumbled.

Klaus sighed and continued painting.

“How about you?” you asked. “Any tragic love stories?”

He laughed without humor. “I’ve lived a thousand years, (Y/N). There are too many tragedies to count.”

You smiled, and he painted in silence.

“Where are you?”

It was a week later, and you’d finally answered one of Caroline’s calls.

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied. “I’m okay. How are you doing?”

“Missing you,” Caroline said. You could practically hear her pouting through the phone. “Please just come stay with me.”

“I just need a while, Care,” you whispered into the phone, reclining on your bed. “I still love you, and Stefan, and Bonnie... I just can’t risk seeing Damon or Elena right now.”

Suddenly, Klaus came through the door. “What would you like for dinner, love?”

Your eyes widened.

“Seriously?” Caroline screeched. “You’re with Klaus?”

You glared at Klaus. “Care-“

“We are coming to get you, first thing in the morning.” She hung up the phone abruptly.

You sighed. “I know you heard her on the phone.”

Klaus smiled. “They were concerned, (Y/N).”

“So let them be concerned!” you threw your hands up in annoyance. “I can’t go back.”

“I’m sorry,” Klaus said, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m sorry you’re ashamed to be seen with me.”

“It’s not that,” you said. “I just know what they think. I like you, Klaus, as much as I hate to admit it. You’re a good friend.”

His eyes brightened ever so slightly.

“But they don’t know you like I do,” you explained. “They think that all you are is evil. A week ago, I thought the same... but you’re more than that.”

You walked over to him, and softly put your arms around him in a hug. He tensed up before slowly returning the gesture.

After a moment, you pulled back and looked up into his blue eyes.

You pinched his cheeks. “How could I be ashamed of such a pretty face?”

Klaus laughed. “Alright, alright.”

The next morning, as promised, Caroline and Stefan showed up at Klaus’s door, Caroline practically beating it down.

“(Y/F/N)! Get out here right now!” she called between knocks.

You opened the door to see them, Klaus standing beside you.

Caroline and Stefan rushed in, Caroline cradling you protectively and Stefan threatening Klaus.

“Guys!” you yelled, making them look at you. “I’m fine!”

Caroline frowned. “We’re so sorry we didn’t tell you about Damon and Elena. We’re awful friends.”

“We feel horrible,” Stefan mumbled, keeping an eye on Klaus.

“I... forgive you,” you said softly, letting out a breath. “You two didn’t cheat on me.”

Caroline’s eyes welled up with tears as she hugged you. Stefan only smiled.

“But I’m not coming back,” you replied.

Caroline smiled. “Of course not, you wouldn’t want to go back to the Boarding House. You’re coming to stay with me.”

“No, Care,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m staying here.”

Stefan turned on Klaus. “Did you compel her?”

“No, Stef, I’m not compelled,” you told him, pointing to a purple vervain ring on your finger.

“Then why?” Caroline asked, sneering at Klaus.

You sighed, looking at Klaus yourself. “I like it here.”

Caroline turned back to you, a desperate look in her eyes.

“I’ll call you later,” you whispered. “I’ll explain.”

Caroline sighed and smiled. “Okay. Be safe. I’ll beat down this door again if I have to.”

You smiled, and hugged her again. “Thank you, Care. You too, Stef.”

Stefan nodded tensely, and he and Caroline left.

Once you heard Caroline’s car engine fire up, Klaus turned to you.

“Why are you staying?” he asked, eyes dark.

“Like I said, I like it here, Klaus,” you replied, your heart thumping in your chest. “I like you.”

Klaus’s mouth was set in a straight line. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you whispered. “I like you, unfortunately, in every way possible.”

Klaus smiled warily. “How do I know this isn’t just another Salvatore ploy?”

“Compel me,” you said, pulling off your ring.

He grinned, looking deep into your eyes. “How do you feel about me?”

The words fell out of your mouth. “I’m falling for you. I want to stay here with you, because of you.”

You slipped your ring back on your hand. “The way I feel for you is a way I never felt about anyone else, including Damon Salvatore.”

Klaus smiled, and then pressed his lips to yours. You kissed back roughly. After a moment, the two of you pulled away.

“True love,” he murmured sarcastically.

“Tale as old as time,” you replied, a wicked grin on your face.

#my post #the vampire diaries #tvd #oneshot #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson #x reader #the originals #to #klaus mikaelson oneshot

384 notes · View notes

homoose · 3 years

Text

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part II (x OC)

Summary: Spencer and reader spend a lot of time together. And then he spends some time away.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC

Category: fluff, hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: typical CM violence, Spencer gets hurt but there’s no graphic descriptions

Word count: 5k

Series Masterlist

———

Maggie stretched out across the bed, humming and burying her face into the pillow. She sighed and then drew in a deep breath. Her eyes blinked open as she recognized the new scent on her sheets— cedar and spice and a hint of floral.

Anita: How did it go???????

Maggie: Good! We talked a lot. And he spent the night.

Anita: W H A T

Anita: 🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

Anita: MAGGIE MAE BROOKS

Maggie: Calm down. It was just a sleepover. Emphasis on the sleep.

Anita: Sure it was 👀

Anita: 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Anita: 🍆🍑🍒💦

Maggie: I’m going to mute this thread.

Anita: You’re such a prude!!!!!!!

Anita: But also

Anita: This mf is still on THIN ICE with me

Anita: So tell him to sleep with one eye open

Maggie swiped the message thread to mute the notifications and sat up to drop her legs over the side of the bed. She stood and did a cursory once over in the mirror above her dresser, retrieving the sweater hanging on her closet door and slipping into it. Then she padded to the doorway, pushing the door open and quietly moving into the living room.

Spencer lifted his head at the sound, a smile stretching across his face as soon as he saw her. “Morning.”

“Morning.” She shuffled toward the couch, and he closed his book. She peered over the couch and gestured to Roald. “I see you’ve got a friend.”

“Indeed. I kind of feel like I can’t leave now.” He looked up with a small crease in his brow. “I made coffee. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she assured with a smile. “Nice mug.”

“Spencer.” She leaned against the couch and smoothed a hand over his hair, meeting his eyes and smiling gently. “Is there more coffee?”

He nodded and looked down at the cat on his lap. “Yeah, I— I’d get up, but I don’t want to disturb him.”

Maggie laughed and pressed a quick kiss to his hair before retreating to the kitchen. “Oh, of course. We wouldn’t want to disrupt the king.”

…

Eventually, Roald yawned and stretched across Spencer’s lap, standing and hopping down off the couch in search of food. Spencer ran his hand down Maggie’s leg and circled his fingers around her ankle, rubbing his thumb lightly across the skin. She looked up from her book with a soft smile, wiggling her toes under his thigh.

She closed her book and sat up a little closer to him on the couch. “So. I’ve been thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous,” he teased.

“Ha, ha.” She rolled her eyes, and then her gaze shifted back to him and she chewed a little at the inside of her lip.

“Our tea dates weren’t really dates,” she hedged. “So we haven’t really had a first date.”

He gave her ankle a quick squeeze. “No, I suppose we haven’t.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I don’t want you to think I’m in the habit of inviting men that I’m not dating to spend the night.”

He set his book on the coffee table. “Of course.”

He withdrew from her mouth, pressed a kiss to her bumped nose, and then sat back a little, considering. “If you’re free today, we could knock ‘first date’ off the checklist.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “You have a checklist?”

“Well, a metaphorical one,” he clarified quickly. “I’m not, like, keeping track in a journal or anything.”

She laughed, bright and loud and almost carefree, and then swung her legs over the side of the couch. “What did you have in mind, doctor?”

…

Spencer Reid’s idea of a perfect first date was the Smithsonian National Postal Museum, and it was just about the most Spencer thing Maggie had ever heard.

“I should have put two and two together with the no technology thing,” she surmised.

She thought back to receiving a perfectly wrapped package with his handwriting scrawled across the brown paper. “Mm, you do have a point there,” she conceded.

He stopped mid-sentence in the Serving the Cities exhibit, dropping his hands and looking at her sheepishly. “Sorry, I— I’m boring you.”

She drew her brows together in genuine confusion. “What? No, you’re not. I’d never heard of the, um— new— no. The— new tubes?”

“New York City's pneumatic tube system,” he offered.

She smiled gratefully. “Yes, the pneumatic tube system. Underground mail tubes moving at 35 miles per hour? That’s kind of amazing.” She shook her head. “Why don’t they use it anymore?”

“I’ve always enjoyed letter writing. Partly because I tend toward the arcane, but also because it feels… intentional and personal,” he explained. “It takes time, and energy, and care.”

“It’s a very deliberate and lovely way of showing that you care about someone,” she agreed.

Maggie reached for his hand again, and he accepted it with a bittersweet smile. “We did the same thing for my grandma,” she told him, returning his melancholic smile. “Lots of letters and photos. I never thought of it that way, but it was sort of like keeping her in our stories.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—” she started.

“I’ll take half,” he murmured. “I was hoping I could, um— help you write them.”

She squeezed his waist gently, heard the chains of insecurity clinking and breaking as he chiseled away at them piece by piece. “I’d like that.”

…

Two weeks later, Maggie convinced him to try painting— specifically, Paint & Sip Night at the art studio around the corner from her apartment.

“I’m going to be terrible at this,” he warned her, looking over his shoulder at where she was tying the strings of his smock.

“It’s not about being good at it. It’s about having fun.” She used her hands on his waist to turn him around. “And if you’re not having fun, then we can go home,” she shrugged.

He smoothed a wrinkle from her smock. “I always have fun with you.” He smiled and scrunched his nose at her, and she returned the nose scrunch with a laugh.

“All right, everyone!” The instructor clapped her hands together. “Are you ready to paint a masterpiece?”

Forty five minutes later, Spencer peered over at her canvas and huffed out a breath. “God, look at that texture. How are you actually good at this?”

Maggie turned and looked at his painting. “Yours looks good, too,” she insisted.

“Michael could— and has, actually— done better than this,” he scoffed.

“Well, I like it.” She tilted her head. “It’s giving me... Monet vibes. It’ll look perfect in my living room.”

“You are not hanging this in your living room,” he laughed.

“I’d like to see you try and stop me,” she teased, turning back to her work to follow the next instruction.

He sighed and gestured to the corner of his canvas. “This whole section looks… weird.”

“Yeah, I guess I can try that.” He shrugged and leaned over to the paints, gathering some purple on his brush.

“Okay. So it looks much more…” he trailed off.

“Cohesive,” she offered.

She could feel his smile. “Yeah,” he agreed. He lifted his head to look at her. “Seriously, how are you so good at this?”

He swiveled on the stool to capture her hands in his, lacing their fingers together and pulling her in between his legs. “It’s yours.”

She feigned shock. “For free?”

She pressed her lips together to avoid breaking out into an absurd grin. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“Take it or leave it. That’s my final offer,” he shrugged.

She pretended to mull it over, lips pursed and eyes on the ceiling. He huffed out a laugh, and she cracked a smile, bringing her fingers up to tangle in his curls. “Deal.”

…

Maggie: I don’t even know if your phone is capable of receiving pictures, but look what I hung today!

Spencer: It receives pictures! I wish I hadn’t received this one though. I cannot believe you actually hung that horrific thing on your wall.

Maggie: I’m going to commission you for a piece for the kitchen ;)

Spencer: You’re hilarious.

Maggie: You love it.

Spencer: I do.

Spencer: I wanted to tell you... I have my first therapy appointment tomorrow afternoon.

Maggie: Spence!!!

Maggie: I am so proud of you. It’s going to change your life.

Spencer: You’ve already done that, Miss Honey.

…

Maggie: How did it go?

Spencer: I cried? A lot.

Maggie: That happens to me, too! Good therapy will do that. Other than the crying, how do you feel?

Spencer: I feel… amazing. Lighter, I think? I’m actually kind of bummed that I have to wait two weeks to do it again.

Maggie: I know I said it already, but I’m so incredibly proud of you.

Spencer: I quite literally would not have done it without you.

Maggie: Happy to give you a little nudge whenever you need it, doctor. <3

...

When he didn’t break the silence, she looked up over the top of her laptop. “Can I help you?” she teased.

Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline. “You— you’re asking me for help?”

“Well, yeah.” He shrugged. “You’re the best teacher I know.”

Now it was her turn to blush. “Oh. Well, um…” She set her laptop on the coffee table and sat up, considering. “Have you tried differentiating your lectures?” At his raised eyebrow, she continued, “Like— having a PowerPoint or a recorded version that they can revisit? You’re kind of a fast talker, so it’s possible that they’re struggling to retain the information because they can’t keep up with your delivery.”

She sighed dramatically but couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “At least another two cups. And one of those peanut butter sandwich cookies from Soho.”

He set the papers aside and leaned over to plant a kiss on her upturned mouth. “I’ll buy you a dozen.”

…

In late May, their luck ran out.

First there was a case in Arizona— brutal and ritualistic murders scattered through the desert with almost no cooling off period. On the eighth day that he was in Phoenix, Maggie’s phone rang on the bedside table. She reached across to pick it up, smiling at his name on the screen.

“Hey,” she answered, moving her computer off her lap and getting comfortable.

“Hi,” Spencer murmured.

“How’s the case going?”

“It’s, um— it’s going okay, actually,” he assessed. “We’ve made a lot of headway in the last twelve hours, and I think we might be narrowing in.”

“That’s great.” She stifled a yawn behind her hand.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

His tone of voice had her sitting up a little straighter in bed. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he insisted, but his tone didn’t shift.

“You don’t sound fine,” she prompted.

“Spence,” she interrupted. He sighed, and she continued, “It’s not weird. I miss you, too.”

He laughed a little through the phone, and she knew her plan was working already.

“Okay,” he started, and she could hear the muffled crinkle of the hotel duvet. “Um— did you know that the Sonoran Desert is the only place in the world where saguaro cacti grow?”

“Wow. No, I didn’t,” she smiled, ready to learn everything there was to know about the giant, prickly plants. “Why is that?”

“Experts believe there are two main factors that limit the cacti from expanding into the Mojave — temperature and rainfall. It’s also possible that...”

...

On his tenth day away, the letter showed up.

Maggie,

I don’t know if you’ve ever been out here. I think you’d like it. I’ve thought of another poem that makes me think of you, and of the way that I finally feel like I can breathe.

With thee, in the Desert –

With thee in the thirst –

With thee in the Tamarind wood –

Leopard breathes – at last!

- Emily Dickinson

Love,

Spencer

…

“Hi.” She yawned into her hand and let out a little sigh.

“Hi.” The tenor of his voice was quiet and weary. “I know it’s unbelievably late—”

She sat up and interrupted, “Are you okay?”

He was quiet for a moment, and her worry intensified. “I, um— I’m… I’m downstairs.”

She turned on the bedside lamp. “Like, right now?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed quietly. “I— I’m sorry. I should have called first before just— showing up at your door.”

She was already climbing out of bed. “No, no, honey, don’t be sorry. I’m coming to buzz you in.”

He didn’t speak, just breathed into her hair and clutched a little desperately at her back. She stroked a soothing hand over his curls and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” she murmured. “You’re safe, Spence. I’m right here.”

She shifted her weight slowly back and forth, rocking him gently and petting over his hair, steady and rhythmic. He burrowed his face into the crook of her neck and let out a shaky breath, and Maggie felt his tears on her skin. She brought both arms around his shoulders then, squeezing him tightly. “I’m right here, honey,” she repeated. “I’m right here.”

After a long while, he pulled back, still sniffling. Maggie reached out to grasp his face in both her hands, sweeping the tears from his cheeks with gentle thumbs. Her heart panged at the way his eyes were shining and ringed red, full of complete exhaustion and raging emotion.

“What do you need?” she asked. “Water, tea, a snack, a shower?”

He shook his head. “Just you,” he mumbled.

She had him wash his face and brush his teeth, and then she moved him to sit on the closed toilet lid. “Close your eyes,” she said softly.

———

Permanent (sfw) tags: @mrs-dr-reid @eevee0722 @goldentournesol

Series (x OC) tags: @kyomito

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #Spencer Reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #homoose writes #lhalc #tmsidk

143 notes · View notes

pxedpiper · 4 years

Text

Horizon (19)

Plot Summary: Once a princess of a kingdom you loathed to call yours, you have somehow found yourself aboard a pirate ship, stuck on the ocean waves. Now you try to figure out how to escape them, but as you continue to journey with them, you find yourself wondering if you even want to.

Pairings: Ateez x Reader (Kim Hongjoong x Reader)

Content Warnings: Mentions of death and sexual implications throughout the fic, nothing ever specified in detail

Previous / Masterlist / Next

A/N: Finally, the reunion :D !! Also thank god it didn’t take me too long this time, h o p e f u l l y i keep this up and we can get this fic finished this year rip jhbgfhjhj anyway idk how i fully feel about this one but i hope you all enjoy it !!

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Pirate King, unable to realize when he’s lost,” Reeves drawled, attention fully on Hongjoong, who jumped down from the bannister and made his way to the center of the crowd, “Don’t tell me you intend to fight your way out of this alone? That didn’t work last time you were on this ship, I sincerely doubt it’ll work this time.”

“If I remember correctly, last time I made it out with two new crew members while you were struggling to get your ship back in order, so I’m not sure that would classify as a loss,” Hongjoong coolly shot back, keeping a disinterested expression on his face, “And in that time, I was more merciful. But now, you have taken three of my crewmates, two of which you had already tortured and mentally abused in the past, and the other you have threatened to marry against her will, and so now I find myself feeling much less merciful as I was back then. So I would really watch what you say, Reeves. Not that it matters much, you’ll be dead no matter what you do.”

Reeves scoffed, “Bold words for someone on an enemy’s ship; alone, if I might add. Unless you consider these two,” He gestured to San and Wooyoung, “to be your allies, in which case, I think you’ll find that to be a bit difficult considering they’re unarmed.”

“You missed one.” Hongjoong nodded at you, “Her, too. She’s a crewmate of mine as well, and more than a match for you, if you couldn’t already tell.”

“She is the princess of our kingdom, and will be returning home with me,” Reeves hissed, “She’s royalty, not a pirate!”

“Well, guess what, I’m both,” Hongjoong stepped up, eyes narrowed, “And I say, both as her captain and the Pirate King, that she is my crew member and will coming back with me. She’s no longer your princess, Reeves, get over it. It’s not like you care either way, so long as you get power, aren’t I right? And if you think I truly came here alone, you’re sorely mistaken. Like you, I also learn from my mistakes, and I think you’ll find my crew is more loyal to me than yours could ever be. Now!” At his command, the others jumped on board the ship, armed and ready. Seeing their faces again, you immediately felt relief and happiness flood through you, feeling as though it’d been years since you last saw them instead of weeks.

“You really think this is enough to stop me?” Reeves snorted, “You underestimate me, Pirate King, I truly expected more from someone of your reputation.”

“I think you’ll find that this will be more than enough to end your reign of terror before it even begins,” Hongjoong replied, “Now, get ready, Reeves, this is your end!” With that, Hongjoong drew his sword and rushed to attack Reeves, who only just barely managed to block him with his own sword he must’ve retrieved while you were freeing San and Wooyoung. From then on, it was a familiar sight; swords clanging against each other as the battle begun all around you.

“(Y/N), look here!” Yunho shouted, catching your attention, “Catch!” He threw you a large bundle, which you caught with some difficulty. Quickly unwrapping it, you grinned; it was yours, San’s, and Wooyoung’s weapons! Nodding to Yunho in thanks, you quickly equipped your sword while drawing your dagger; now you truly felt prepared for the fight. Next to you, you could see San and Wooyoung do the same, the latter almost giddy to be reunited with his guns.

“Captain!” He yelled out, the grin on his face unmatched, “Do I have permission to go all out?”

“I don’t want you to hold even a little bit back,” Hongjoong confirmed, “You have my full permission to do as you like!”

“Finally!” Wooyoung cheered, before the gleam in his eye turned deadly, aiming his gun directly at one of the enemies and firing without hesitation, moving onto the next one and doing the same thing within the blink of an eye. Shaking your head, you quickly entered the fray yourself, fighting off one of the men who was trying and failing to ambush Jongho. What a poor choice of someone to attack. Catching your eye, you saw that somehow, Reeves had managed to worm his way out of fighting Hongjoong, because your captain was against two of Reeves’s lower leveled men, and fairing quite well if you were to say so yourself. Nevertheless, you quickly fought your way through the crowd around him, almost happy with how giddy you were to be around him. Soon enough, you were right next to him, blocking an attack from one of the men he was fighting before it could land on him.

“Long time no see, huh, Captain?” You grinned, excited to be able to talk with him again after weeks of being separated.

Rolling his eyes, he kept his focus on the battle at hand, “Just how many times are you going to play the hero, huh? Little troublemaker, you are!” But despite his words you could tell that he was trying to hide his own smile on his face as the two of you fought back to back.

“Please, we both know I’m nothing compared to Wooyoung!” You shot back, keeping your eyes on your own opponent, knocking them out of the way before another one quickly took his place. Shaking his head, you could hear him let out a small laugh before quickly dispatching whoever he was fighting.

“From now on, you’re staying by me at all times, you hear me? That’s an order!” He looked at you for a second, joking around, but you could tell by the look in his eyes he was genuinely worried about you.

You shot a grin back at him, “No complaints here, Captain! Now, come on, we’ve got a battle to win!” Nodding along, you both rejoined the fight, taking down as many people as you could, which, with the efforts of both of you combined, it wasn’t very difficult to achieve.

It wasn’t long until enough of Reeve’s men had been defeated that you could look around and try to see where Reeves himself had gone, managing to catch him trying to run away into the dungeons. How ironic.

Hongjoong followed your line of vision and spoke, “You stay here while I go and finish this.” But before he could, you stopped him.

“No,” You shook his head, “This isn’t your fight to finish. It’s theirs.” You nodded at San and Wooyoung who were both covered in blood that didn’t seem to be their own, “And Reeves is from my kingdom, which makes him my responsibility as well, as much as I hate to admit it. We need to be the ones to do this, Hongjoong.” He looked at you hesitantly, clearly uneasy about the thought of letting you on your own again, but nodded nonetheless, making you give out a grateful smile, before yelling out, “San, Wooyoung! He’s heading towards the dungeons, lets go!” Nodding their heads in acknowledgement, the three of you made your way to the dungeons, quickly catching up to Reeves who was starting to see the flaw in his escape plan.

Laughing mercilessly, Wooyoung quickly shot at him, landing a blow to his side, “How stupid do you have to be to try to escape when we’re in the middle of the ocean, and in the dungeons, of all places? I thought you admirals were supposed to be brilliant, not idiotic.”

Unfortunately, the gunshot wasn’t enough to kill him, Reeves just barely managing to make it back onto his feet as he grabbed onto his side, “What, is this the point where you kill me, like the filthy pirates you are? The kingdom won’t be happy about that, they’ll be expecting my arrival, and they’ll hunt you down to find the princess. It’ll be a war, one you won’t be able to win.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” San drawled, twirling one of his daggers in his hand, “We’ve done plenty of the impossible before at this point, I’m sure we could do it again. Not that it matters much, we have more pressing issues at hand.” With that, San’s entire demeanor changed, eyes narrowing as he pushed Reeves against the wall, holding his dagger against the wound, which was already bleeding profusely, “I should torture you the same way you made me torture all those men before, make you feel the exact pain they felt before you made me kill them. But we don’t have the time for all that, and I’d rather not let (Y/N) be a witness to such a horrific sight. So, as much as it pains me to say it, we’ll have to do things quickly, now won’t we?” With that, San thrusted the dagger into the wound, twisting it around slowly so Reeves could feel every movement as much as possible, causing him to howl out in pain. “Remember, this pain you’re feeling? You deserve over a million times worse.”

You stepped up to Reeves, who was starting to breathe heavily due to all the pain, “It’s over, Reeves, for good this time. Even if we weren’t going to kill you, you’d eventually die of blood loss at this point. In a way, we’re putting you out of your misery, which is much more than a rotten piece of scum like you deserves. The only thing that comforts me is that I know you’ll rot in hell where you belong.”

“What, and you’ll be the one to do me in then?” Reeves scoffed, his breathe coming out in short pants, “You’re nothing, just a princess who abandoned her kingdom to pretend to be a pirate. I bet you haven’t even killed anyone yet, you’ll probably chicken out because you can’t bear the thought.”

“You’re right,” You agreed, “That’s what I would have done, the thought of killing another human being would be too much for me. However,” You grabbed his hair to pull his head back so he could look you in the eyes as you placed your dagger at his throat, “you aren’t a human being, you’re a monster who hurt and killed innocent people, hurt my friends, and for that? I won’t spare a second thought towards you. Goodbye, Reeves. Better hope the Devil shows you more mercy than we did.” Then, without any hesitation, you moved the blade in one slice, slitting his throat as his blood stained your clothes and skin. It only took a couple of seconds for him to die, the added blood loss being a contributing factor. Turning to San and Wooyoung, you looked at their faces in concern, speaking out loud, “Are you alright? I know that was a lot, should I have let you all done it…?”

“Us? We’re perfect, thanks to you,” Wooyoung sent you a grin, “Managed to shoot him like I always wanted, so I’m content. San?”

“He’s dead. That’s all I could ever wish for,” He replied, looking at you with a warm smile, “Who it was that did it wouldn’t matter. Thank you, (Y/N), I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

“It was actually easier than I thought,” You admitted, “But maybe it just hasn’t sunk in yet. Come on, let’s go. By now the fighting should’ve ended, we were already winning before.” Nodding, the two followed you as you made your way back onto the deck.

Taking a quick look around the deck once you’d made it back proved your assumption was correct; the fighting had ended, and it was your side that made it out on top. Grinning, you ran towards the others, ready to have a proper reunion with them now that everything was over.

“Everyone, we did it! We won!” You cheered, excited to see all their faces again.

Quickly, Yunho engulfed you in a hug, “(Y/N)! Oh, god, we were all so worried. Why’d you give yourself up like that, huh?!”

“Well…” You laughed nervously, sheepishly scratching the back of your head as you tried to come up with an answer.

You didn’t need to, though, as you were pulled into another hug, this time by Seonghwa, “Never mind that, it’s just good you’ve made it back. Or rather, we took you back.”

“Yes, definitely,” You agreed, happy to be back where you belonged, before giving a hug to Jongho as well, who blushed bright red at the interaction.

“We really missed you on board, (Y/N),” The youngest managed to get out, “It didn’t feel right with you gone, like all the life was taken from the crew.”

“Well, is anyone gonna say they missed us then?” Wooyoung snorted, walking up from behind you, “All this fanfare, and none of it for us? We were kidnapped, too, you know!”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget,” Yeosang was quick to embrace both of them, holding onto them as tightly as he could, “You can’t imagine how worried I was, the thought of you being back with Reeves, I was ready to expect the worst…”

“It’s alright, Yeosang,” San chuckled, hugging his friend back, “We’re alright. As good as we can be, anyway, considering the circumstances. It’s over now, we’re back.”

“Yeah, and we won’t have to worry about Reeves ever again!” Wooyoung added, also returning the hug, “And now you couldn’t get rid of us even if you tried it!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” The medic replied, pulling his friends even closer. Smiling at the sight, you turned around to look for Hongjoong, only to be immediately pulled into a hug by the very person you were about to search for.

“Don’t you ever try to sacrifice yourself that that again, got it?” Hongjoong scolded, holding you tightly to him, “It’s too much for me to handle, I can’t afford to go searching for you all the time.”

“Does that mean you’ll eventually stop looking?” You teased, pulling away to look at him.

“No, I- Stop putting words in my mouth,” He responded before looking at you with a frown, “You’re covered in blood again.”

“Yeah, I, uh,” You struggled to think of how to word it, “I… didn’t hesitate this time. I did as you said.” You could see the confusion fade away as the realization of what you’d done sunk in his mind.

He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place before pulling you into another hug, this one much gentler than the last, “I was hoping you wouldn’t have to do it so soon, but I rather it be him than you. I’m just glad you’re alright, (Y/N). Please, I’m begging you this time, don’t leave me again.”

You wrapped your arms around him, resting your head on his shoulder, “I promise you, I’m never going anywhere ever again. Not without you.” Nodding his head, he just held you tighter, making you sigh in content and being able to be close to him like this again. It had only been a few weeks, but it felt like an eternity since you last saw him, and the warmth you felt in your heart felt almost overwhelming, but in the best way possible.

“Are you in love with him?” San’s words from the previous night echoed in your head, and the more you thought about it, the more ways you tried to figure it out in your head, the more and more you seemed to be coming to the same conclusion.

You were in love with Kim Hongjoong.

“So, what now?” You asked, back on The Utopia after so long, “What about the ship?”

Hongjoong was silent for a moment before ordering, “Fire the cannons. We leave no one alive this time.” At once, you could hear the cannons go off, making you cover your ears as the cannonballs hit their target. With everyone on the ship either dead or incapacitated, there was no way to stop the ship from sinking; already it was making it’s descent.

“Hongjoong, are you sure?” You asked, “Most of the people on that ship were victims, just like Yeosang, San, and Wooyoung were. Is it right to kill them just like that?”

“It’s not a matter of what’s right, (Y/N),” He responded, “If we let the ship go, we run the risk of this happening again. Someone else will take command, and they’ll be back in the same situation they always were, and we’d be no better off for it. Besides, they’d rather be dead then continue to work for the Royal Navy, I’m just putting them out of their misery.” Seeing the look of doubt you had on your face, he added, “We’re pirates, (Y/N). We don’t do good things, even if we seem nice and kind. I hope you didn’t forget that.”

“I didn’t,” You responded, “You’re probably right, in any case. There’s no way my father would’ve just let them go. Besides, I’m a pirate now, too. If I don’t get used to things like this, I shouldn’t be here. And I promised you I’d never leave again.” You looked at him with a small smile. “This doesn’t change anything. You’re still Hongjoong, my captain.”

“That’s good,” He returned your smile with one of his own, “Now, let’s go. We have a long journey ahead of us to return to Jongho’s home.”

“Yeah, slight problem with that,” San scratched at his head, “It’s nothing I can’t fix in a day, but The Utopia does need a bit of work done. I don’t have enough material, so we’ll have to go to shore and get the supplies we need so I can fix it.”

“Are you sure there’s no other way to get the supplies?” You asked, knowing the closest land there was was your kingdom, only an hour away from where you currently were.

“Dead certain,” San replied, “I wouldn’t mention it if we had no other choice.”

“Then I suppose it can’t be helped,” Hongjoong sighed, clearly also unhappy with the turn of events, “Let’s go then, we’ll be in and out before anyone notices we’re there.” He shrugged off his jacket, handing it to you, “Here. To cover the blood stains. I doubt there’d be much point to changing if we’re already so close.” You almost laughed, remembering how last time he’d offered you his jacket, you looked at him as if was the worst thing you’d ever seen in your life. Now, however, you took it gratefully, putting it on with a smile.

“Thank you,” You said, “I appreciate it.” He merely returned your smile before going to talk with Seonghwa. Sighing, you let the smile fall from your face as you were left alone with your thoughts.

It looked like you’d be returning home after all.

The kingdom hadn’t changed in the slightest.

Not that you had expected it to, only being a few months since you’d left, but it was odd to be back after everything you’d seen. There was still thugs and thieves running rampant, and those who weren’t merely pretended to not see them, and if you looked closely you could even catch people selling things they clearly weren’t supposed to be selling.

You sighed to yourself; no, nothing really had changed a bit.

“I have to say, I never thought I’d find my way back here,” Hongjoong spoke up, looking around while San purchased what he needed, “Nothing’s changed, still the same shithole I remember it being.” That made you stop in your tracks.

“Wait, you’ve been here before?” You asked, shock clear in your voice.

“Yes, from before I was a pirate,” Hongjoong confirmed, “I can’t say I’m happy to be back…”

“No, Hongjoong, that doesn’t make sense,” You shook your head, “This is my kingdom. How can you be from here and I never knew?”

“Wait, what?” Hongjoong turned to you, looking just as shocked as you were, “How is that possible? I would’ve remembered a princess…”

You were about to speak up to reply, but a voice you hadn’t heard in a while stopped you before you could, “(Y/N)? Is that really you?” Cursing slightly, you slowly turned around, hoping you misheard what you thought you’d heard. Unfortunately for you, luck didn’t seem to be on your side.

“Mother? Father?”

#ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfiction #ateez imagines #ateez pirate au #hongjoong fanfic #seonghwa fanfic #yunho fanfic #yeosang fanfic #san fanfic #mingi fanfic #wooyoung fanfic #Jongho fanfic

178 notes · View notes