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littlemisspascal · 3 years

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Mailroom Crush Part 6

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word Count: 3500+

Summary: A story about Reader who works in the mailroom of the embassy and her encounters with a handsome, brown-eyed DEA agent.

Warnings: Language, fluff, angst, making out, anxious Reader, consumption of grilled cheese sandwiches and alcohol, Spanish translation at the end, this is only loosely based on canon of Season 3 so the timeline does not 100% match the show’s

Author Note: Thank you everybody for your amazing support and encouragement! I appreciate every word and I hope y’all enjoy this segment 💝

PART 5 | PART 7

It’s a typical, unnoteworthy Wednesday when Javier decides to surprise you by asking you out. You find him leaning against your car when you leave the embassy, looking like a cover model with his tousled hair and form-fitting clothes. The smile that lights up his face when he sees you nearly has you face-planting onto the asphalt, knees going weak when confronted with such heartstopping beauty.

And then you’re kissing him. You aren’t sure if you leaned in first or if he did—maybe it was a mutual leaning in—resulting in a soft, chaste kiss between a boyfriend and a girlfriend on a cool midsummer evening.

“I’m taking you out tonight,” Javier says when he pulls away, grabbing ahold of your hand and tangling his fingers with yours.

This close you can see the spattering of freckles along Javier’s throat, feel the warmth of his breath upon your cheeks. Unable to concentrate, you blink at him dazedly. “What?”

“I’m taking you out tonight,” Javier repeats, the corner of his mouth lifting up. “I know this nice little hole in the wall with the best food in the whole city.”

“Oh,” you say, heart performing a nervous flip in your chest. “You–You mean like a date?”

“Well, I just thought it’d be nice seeing each other outside of the embassy,” he says in a rush, glancing down at his shoes with a frown. “If you’ve already got plans or you just don’t want to then I understand. We—”

“I do want to, Javi,” you interrupt, squeezing his hand. “It’s just…”

He raises an eyebrow when you trail off with a grimace. “What?”

You gesture with your free hand towards your clothes. They’re rumpled from a long day spent speed-walking up and down the embassy corridors trying to locate the ambassador’s staff in order to have them sign an important document, and there’s also a mysterious stain on the hem of your shirt you’re not sure the origins of. God, you must look like a total mess right now.

Javier catches your chin and gently tilts your head up to meet his gaze again. Your breath catches when you see the fondness of his expression, no hint of teasing or impatience. “Tesoro, you’re always beautiful.”

Your lips curl into a bashful smile and your shoulders lose some of their stiffness, but your self-doubt stubbornly persists, refusing to be silenced by a few sweet words. “Javi…”

He tilts his head, gaze roaming across your face in search of something you don’t know. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, mouth opening and closing hesitantly before he finally says, “Do you like grilled cheese?”

Baffled by the subject change, you simply nod your head.

“My apartment’s about ten minutes from here. Would you…” Javier clears his throat, looking anywhere but your face now. “Would you like to come over and have sandwiches?” A brief pause. “With me?”

Maybe it’s the shy, awkward way in which he asks, or maybe your selfish desire to be different than Javier’s past sexual conquests is clouding your judgement, but either way you can’t help but think he doesn’t invite people over often. The mere idea that you could be the first to see his home, his place of escape outside the hectic world of cartels and political mind games, fills your stomach with a fluttery sensation of excitement.

You nod again, giddy and so totally gone for this man. “Yes, I would, Javi,” you tell him, leaning forward to press another kiss against his lips. His eyes are half-lidded when you pull away, like he’s just as enamored as you feel, and something pleasantly warm starts weaving itself through your rib cage and around your heart. Love, maybe, but you don’t dare speak its name aloud.

“Sounds like a perfect first date to me,” you say instead, playfully nudging your nose against his to seal the deal.

That earns you a beaming grin, crow’s feet appearing along the corners of his eyes. “Only the best for my girl.”

You spend the short drive to Javier’s apartment giving yourself a pep talk. “It’s just grilled cheese sandwiches,” you say when braking at a stoplight, tapping your fingers anxiously against the steering wheel. “No more, no less.”

Except…what if it does turn out to be more? It’s been a long time since your last relationship, what if the rules of dating have changed in the interim? Worse, what if Javier is expecting there to be more? And what if he becomes upset when he finds out you’re not ready for more? What if—

The honking of an impatient driver behind you interrupts your stream of worrisome thoughts. You keep on driving, doing your best to focus on the traffic instead of your racing heartbeat. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.

Parking on the street outside of Javier’s apartment, you sit in your car for a long moment, holding onto your keys in a clenched fist so tight you can feel the metallic grooves digging into your palm. You peer out the window, up at the beige and white complex. It’s a nice place, but like most apartment buildings, including your own, it lacks a warm and inviting aura.

You give yourself one last look-over in the mirror, pasting a too-wide smile on your face to conceal your nerves, and then you’re on your way to experience your first date with Javier, praying it doesn’t also turn out to be your last.

Javier’s apartment is the definition of nondescript. There are no photographs on the walls or pinned to the fridge with magnets. No plants in the windowsill or unread mail out on the counter. The furniture looks like it’s been here for years, left behind by the previous occupants.

You think of your own apartment, of its mismatched assortment of furniture and accessories bought cheaply at shops and street markets. Of your little collection of movies stacked next to the television and pictures of your family members preserved in cute rectangular frames lining the living room wall. A stranger could walk inside your home and leave knowing a dozen facts about your life. The same cannot be said about Javier’s.

Honestly the only clue in the room that gives the impression Javier even lives here is the bookshelf in the corner overstuffed with books on true crime and new methods of criminology. You run your finger over each spine, silently reading the titles while Javier starts preparing to make the sandwiches in the kitchen, humming under his breath.

You pull out Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood from its place in-between Edwin Sutherland’s Principles of Criminology and the biography of Dr. Edmond Locard, noticing the abundance of dog-eared pages. A quick flip-through reveals several passages highlighted or underlined or sometimes both, confirming your suspicion this is a favorite of Javier’s. You smile to yourself, tucking away the piece of information in the corner of your mind where the rest of the precious details you know about Javier are safely stored.

Javier’s kitchen is too small for two people to comfortably move around in without bumping into each other with every turn. Upon realizing this, you take a seat on the other side of the bar, idly swinging your legs while watching him generously butter slices of bread. There’s something strangely mesmerizing about watching him wield the knife, scraping at the yellow square until every inch of the bread is thoroughly covered. You wonder how many times he’s done this. If it’s another favorite of his.

“My mamá taught me there was an art to making a grilled cheese sandwich,” Javier explains without pausing his task, as if reading your mind. “I ate them all the time growing up.”

“Could you teach me?” you ask, keeping your voice purposefully light. Rarely does Javier mention his mother and you don’t want to accidentally cross a boundary. “Most attempts I make at cooking turn out looking like charcoal. Give me a head of lettuce and some vegetables though and I can chop you up the best salad of your life.”

Javier glances up at you with a smirk. “Yeah? I might have to take you up on that offer.” You smile back shyly, resting your chin on your palm and listening as he gestures towards the skillet resting on the stovetop behind him, explaining, “Lesson number one, tesoro, is to cook the bread on low heat. You remember that, you’ll be golden.” He snorts, eyes shining with amusement. “Get it? Golden?”

You groan, shaking your head at him. For all his good looks and thoughtful insights, his sense of humor is an ever-changing trait depending on his mood. Sometimes darkly sarcastic while brooding over a cup of coffee, other times lighthearted and punny like the kind of jokes found on the back of sugary cereal boxes. “That was terrible, Javi.”

“I am going to ignore that rude remark,” he says with a sniff, pointing the butterknife at you because he’s ridiculous, “since it’s time for your second lesson.”

He sets down the knife and grabs two bread slices, holding them up in front of you with a wide grin.

“Thanks,” you say, only a little bit sarcastic, privately thinking he looks like a little boy excited for show and tell at school. “You’re too sweet to me, Javi darling.”

Javier fumbles with one of the bread slices, nearly dropping it on the floor. “O-Of course, tesoro,” he says, voice coming out strangled sounding. He blinks a few times, seeming to regain control of himself. “Now, watch carefully, okay?”

He lowers one of the pieces of bread onto the skillet butter-side-down. He pulls a slice of cheddar cheese free from its packaging and sets it on top of the bread, waits a few seconds, then places the second piece of bread on top of the cheese. It’s so quiet in the room, you feel like you’re in the middle of a documentary, almost expecting to hear David Attenborough’s voice start narrating Javier’s movements.

When the bread turns a light brown color, he flips the sandwich over with an easy gracefulness you don’t think you could ever mimic. A few minutes later, with both sides golden and the smell of melted cheese filling the air, he slides your sandwich on a plate over the bar.

“Ta-da!” Javier announces, looking proud of his achievement, but your eyes don’t miss how his hands twitch nervously against his sides. “Un sándwich de queso a la parrilla para mi chica.”

“Hmm, lemme get a good look at this.” You teasingly make a show of slowly turning the plate this way and that, observing the sandwich from all angles like a contest judge. It looks far more appetizing than anything you’ve tried to cook, not one hint of burnt texture anywhere to be found, and your mouth can’t help but water in anticipation of eating it. “Well, Mr. Peña, consider me very impressed. I’ll give you an A for presentation.”

“I’m honored.” Javier bows his head humbly before he gestures towards the plate with an impatient look. “Now would you please take a bite and tell me how it tastes before I lose my mind.”

You roll your eyes, but indulge his demand, taking a large bite of the sandwich. The flavor combination of melted cheese, butter, and toasted bread fills your mouth, coating your tastebuds, and you accidentally let slip a low groan as you chew.

“Oh my God,” you say after swallowing, unable to recall eating a better tasting sandwich, and promptly take another, bigger bite. “This is so delicious.”

Of course, with how your cheeks are currently stuffed with food like a chipmunk, your words come out sounding something like thit isso delisus.

Still, Javier seems to understand purely based on your happy expression and the way you’re scarfing down more bites of the grilled cheese. Some of the tension in his body loosens, a smile blooming on his face, and he says, “Good to hear. Give me ten minutes to make a few more and then, uh, I guess we’ll see where the evening takes us.”

The food in your mouth abruptly tastes like ash as a pang of nervousness strikes you square in the chest. Is he flirting? Maybe that’s his master plan, seducing me with food so I’ll spend the night. Or maybe…maybe I’m overthinking things and he’s making innocent conversation.

You set the uneaten crust down on the plate, appetite lost for the moment. “What do you have in mind?”

“Honestly?” He looks at you over his shoulder, mid-motion of preparing a second grilled cheese, one eyebrow arched. “I was hoping we could talk.”

“Talk?” you repeat, positive you misheard him.

To your surprise, the tips of Javier’s ears turn red with uncharacteristic bashfulness. He fumbles for words for a moment, then waves a flippant hand, a forced chuckle pushed out of his throat.

“Yeah, you know, talking,” he says, and maybe he would have appeared nonchalant if not for the restless drumming of his fingers on the counter and his tremulous voice. “I heard people still do that on first dates.”

You lean back in your seat, unable to mask your surprise. “What,” you begin, hesitantly. “What do you want to talk about?”

Javier directs his gaze towards the skillet once more, laying down a bread slice to start cooking while simultaneously hiding his face from your scrutiny. “It’s probably obvious, but I’m not good at this. Dating, I mean. It’s been a long time since I met somebody I wanted to know better. And even then, it didn’t exactly turn out great.”

“I’m not exactly an expert on dating either, Javi.” Your mouth twists sympathetically. “But maybe we could figure out what works for us? You know, together.”

“Together sounds perfect, tesoro,” he agrees with a nod and warm smile.

Ten minutes later, the two of you sit side by side on his living room couch, a plate full of grilled cheese sandwiches and a couple of beers within easy reach on the coffee table. Good food and good company, you honestly couldn’t ask for a better first date.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” This time there isn’t an undercurrent of trepidation in your voice when you ask the question. There’s no reason to be scared when it’s just you and him, figuring things out step by step. Together.

Javier takes a sip of his beer, seeming to think about it for a moment, forehead scrunching.

“Anything and everything, tesoro,” he answers at last. “Whatever comes to mind.”

“The whole toilet was covered in golden angels and shit,” Javier says, and insists over the sound of your wheezing laughter, “I’m telling you the truth, tesoro. I saw that fucking thing myself in La Catedral.” He tilts his head, smirking. “Used it, too.”

“Javi, you didn’t.”

“Of course I did. You really think I’d pass up the once in a lifetime opportunity to piss in the gold toilet of a world-famous drug lord?”

“Fuck no. You can’t be serious right now.”

“What? The Monkees are a valid choice,” you say, torn between defending yourself and bursting into laughter.

“Not when the question was do you prefer the Beatles or the Rolling Stones!” Javier counters grumpily, shaking his head like you’ve just given him the worst news of his life.

“I liked their tv show,” you tell him, and when he lets out a derisive snort, you tap a finger against your chin, mock thoughtful. “How’d the theme song go again?”

“Don’t—”

“Here we come, walkin’ down the street–”

“I swear tesoro, so help me—”

You keep singing, purposefully pitching your voice louder than his protests. “We get the funniest looks from–”

Javier chucks a pillow at you, putting an end to your impromptu living room concert.

You laugh so hard you nearly roll onto the floor.

“You know, back in the kitchen,” Javier starts, words leaving his mouth slowly, a hint of a smile curling at the corners of his mouth, “you called me ‘Javi darling.’”

“I did?” You bite your lip, unsure how to feel about that. Shouting your feelings for him from a rooftop would have been a subtler approach than calling him such an affectionate nickname.

He nods his head. “Yeah.”

“Oh, well,” you scratch the back of your head, “I’m sorr—”

“I liked it.”

“—ry. Wait, what?”

He nods again, smile widening yet still soft around the edges, full of fondness. “I like it. I like being the only one you call that just like I’m the only one who calls you tesoro.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him about Stechner’s attempt at poisoning the nickname when he’d visited the mailroom. No, really, your heart is currently melting into a puddle right now, completed wooed by Javier’s sweet declaration.

“So, it’s settled then,” you say, laughter slipping into your voice as a thought occurs to you. “We’re going to be one of those disgustingly affectionate couples with cute nicknames for each other. Riley’s going to start writing poetry about us.”

“Oh yeah, did I ever tell you she threatened to staple a whole list of my most sensitive body parts together if I ever upset you again?”

“Oh my God.”

“Right?” Javier says, shuddering as he recalls the traumatic encounter. “For someone so small, she’s fucking terrifying—”

“I need to buy her a cake or something to thank her.”

“What.”

You’ve been rambling about a documentary on butterflies you saw last week for five whole minutes and Javier hasn’t looked away from you once. His eyes flicker between watching your gesticulating hands, mouth tilted up like he finds your movements entertaining, and watching your face. Your whole face, not just your mouth as some of your previous dates were prone to do.

You try not to trip over your words or lose concentration, but it’s challenging because Javier is mere inches away, looking at you, and you’re still not used to being seen. It’s almost an intoxicating sensation, having someone as intense and mysterious and beautiful as Javier interested in plain, unremarkable you.

Distracted by your thoughts, you don’t realize you’ve stopped talking until Javier’s leaning closer, squinting to see you better. The dim lighting of the nearby table lamp highlights half of his face, that one brown eye molten and piercing. Your breath catches in your throat.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks softly, one of his large hands curling around your knee.

You stare back at him, thinking, Because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And immediately after that, you wonder if maybe you’re not the only one unused to being seen. It’s an idea that makes your heart ache.

“Haven’t you heard?” you answer after a moment, leaning further into his orbit to lay a hand on the side of his face, thumb brushing along his cheekbone. “I’ve got a crush on you.”

“What a coincidence.” Javier presses a kiss to your palm. “I’ve got a crush on you, too.”

“Is that why you look at me?” you blurt out before you can think about the potential consequences and future embarrassment of asking such a stupid question.

Javier freezes, lips still pressed against your skin.

To say you’re flustered is an understatement. No, you’re leagues past the state of flustered and well into the pit of mortification. Your heart is racing, your stomach has dropped somewhere on the floor near your shoes, and you’re torn between leaping out the window or sprinting for the door—unsure which escape attempt would put a quicker end to your misery.

You’re startled out of your thoughts by urgent lips slamming against yours. You react on instinct alone, your other hand wrapping around the back of his neck and tugging at the hair there. It’s not like the kiss you shared in the parking lot earlier, there’s nothing chaste or gentle about this, just something desperate and insistent, like he’s trying to convey a message from his soul to yours.

“Javi darling,” you manage to gasp out between kisses, squeezing his shoulder, “I need words. I need to know–”

He tears himself away with a low growl of frustration, pinning you with a look of such fierce intensity you’re struck silent. “Fuck,” he says in reaction to whatever expression is on your face right now. He leans back in again, like he just can’t help himself, nose brushing against yours before he tilts his head up to press a searing kiss against your forehead. “Tesoro, sweetheart, isn’t it obvious why I look at you?”

Your eyes connect with his. A sudden tension grows between you two, like his words have created a gap and the only way to cross it is to understand what he’s not explaining. It feels like time has frozen, granting you this fragile moment to collect your thoughts, except there’s nothing in your head except Javier.

And all at once, like a switch has been flipped, you understand. It shouldn’t be possible without words, but you do. Because it really is as obvious as Javier said it was.

That unspoken feeling you’ve been holding in your heart, a four-letter word you haven’t found the courage to say, worrying it’s too soon, that it will scare him away—

He feels it, too.

Un sándwich de queso a la parrilla para mi chica. -- A grilled cheese sandwich for my girl.

#Javier peña #javier peña x you #javier pena fanfic #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #narcos fanfiction #pedrostories #my fic #my writing #mailroom crush

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crymeariveronceagain · 2 years

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Each KOTLC kid as a Shakespeare play that they could star in

Sophie Foster: Much Ado About Nothing. Beatrice. I love this idea. Like, she'd just have so much fun with her role and do so much with it. From the glint in her eyes as she argues with Benedict, to the smug toss of her hair, to the declarations of love and hatred. It's perfect.

Keefe Sencen: Romeo and Juliet. This kid would be a perfect Romeo. Like, he'd nail it. Effortlessly. There are real tears in his eyes as he cries over the body of Juliet, a tremble to his hands that cannot be faked as he drinks the poison, a look of sheer, ungodly horror when he sees her wake up, a choked last breath, and a silence as his foolish love is ruined by his own impatience and over-dramatic behavior.

Fitz Vacker: Henry V. There's just something so simple and glorious about the character of Henry, in that play. He's understandable, relatable. A young king who declares war, must rouse an army and head into battle? It's too authentic, watching Fitz portray the character.

Biana Vacker: King Lear. I've never seen another fictional character so suited for the role of Cordelia. Literally. Never in my life have my interpretations of two completely different characters hit so similarly. I can't cope.

Tam Song: Hamlet. He'd love everything about it. It's such a dark and dramatic story, it's exactly what he'd want to do with his acting career. Like, from the skulls to the murder to the intrigue, it would just be so much fun for him.

Linh Song: The Tempest. She would be an amazing daughter of the sorcerer Prospero. Just. She'd nail it.

Marella Redek: The Merchant of Venice. Marella could play Portia so well. Like, uhm, yeah. All those speeches about justice? Honor? Mercy? The role was made for her.

Dex Dizznee: Julius Caesar. Dex would play Marc Antony. I can see him giving that speech about "My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, and I must pause til it come back to me" so effortlessly and purely, I can feel the tears in my own eyes.

Stina Heks: The Taming Of The Shrew. Miss girl would fricking change the game when it comes to people watching this play. She's the pure embodiment of Katherine, and I think she would endear the audience a lot more to the character and her portrayal.

Maruca Chebota: Macbeth. She'd be an amazing Lady Macbeth. Legit. Think about her, hallucinating on stage, trying to wipe blood off her hands, trying to escape her own tortured mind. Imagine her character convincing her husband to murder for power, of turning the king's blood to her power at the command of a witch. I just. I love it.

Wylie Endal: Midsummer Night's Dream. He would be an amazing King Oberon. The stern, but creative king, seeking revenge on the wife he loves in a fluctuating, eternal fashion, content to play a prank on her that definitely leaves everyone but him embarrassed. Wylie would be such a good Oberon.

#kotlc #kotlc headcanons #kotlc characters #kotlc headcanon #sophie foster #keefe sencen #fitz vacker #biana vacker #tam song #linh song #marella redek #dex dizznee #stina heks #maruca chebota #wylie endal #shakespeare #william shakespeare

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defdaily · 2 years

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The proud trinity of GOT7’s leader JAY B, composer Def., and human Lim Jaebeom.

(Interview translated by defdaily.)

We were actually just getting curious about you these days. How have you been?

I recently finished our group activities and have a solo fan concert coming up. I haven’t been able to pay much attention to my personal things from being busy with GOT7, so I’ve also been taking care of that.

Can I ask what personal projects you’ve been working on?

Releasing a single in July. The details are a secret. (Laughs)

I’m excited for it. How was it doing GOT7 activities after a while?

How should I explain… I said this on Instagram too, but it sort of felt like a dream. When I opened my eyes the day after the concert, it felt like a midsummer night’s dream? Made me think “Ah, I must have missed this stuff.”

You’ve fulfilled the long-cherished desire of making a full group comeback in 1 year and 3 months after leaving JYPE. It’s an ‘industry established theory’ that the leader JAY B played a huge role in gathering all the members from separate paths together. (Laughs)

Everyone is busy so I figured one person had to take the lead in arranging things. The members are very cooperative so I just got the ball rolling. I feel like we got to keep our promise with the fans so that’s what I’m most proud of. Truthfully, I felt worried inside too that it might just fizzle out.

Gathering again is amazing too but the results were great as well. The title track you made, ‘NANANA,’ received great results on iTunes charts globally too.

We were also very surprised about the results. I recently received the physical album and I thought, “I should treasure this forever". It might sound harsh but if the results weren’t good, it would’ve been a lot harder for us to plan for another one.

It was nice because the album contained GOT7’s unique bright and chill vibe. I felt a sense of relaxation too with no need for you guys to be spiffed up.

We’re already quite spiffed up in our individual activities. (Laughs) [We] just wanted to enjoy it this time. GOT7-like, chill, and fun. Like a short festival.

When you moved to H1GHR MUSIC, you talked about your aspirations to take on a variety of challenges without setting boundaries in genres from R&B, dance, pop, etc. Are things going as planned?

It’s ongoing. Though I’m keeping my roots mostly in hip-hop and R&B, I’m not the type to cling onto certain genres. Whether it’s a pop album or a blues album, I’m trying to make music I want to in the moment, and it might not always be in an album format.

You use the pen name Def. as a composer/producer. How did you come up with the name?

So I used to be a b-boy when I was young. My alias back then was ‘Defsoul’ and when I searched it up, I saw a lot of nicknames that had ‘soul’ in it. (Park) Jinyoung hyung is ‘Asiansoul,’ (Kim) Jihyeon hyung is also ‘GSoul.’ So I took out the ‘soul’ and added a period and I loved the meaning of it. The word def in English can mean ‘great,’ ‘fantastic.’ So, it could mean ‘ending while it’s good.’

You presented 5 mixtapes under the name, Def., and even released an EP earlier this year. You also spoke several times about not being able to make music as you used to in the past, maybe it being because you’ve been pouring out so much music.

I’ve been seriously contemplating that issue these days. I think it might be about time I step back from being a player. But more than that, I feel like it might be time to play the role as someone who supports others as a producer. My need for my own songs to absolutely be made by me is not as strong as it was in the past. I’m already doing enough of my personal projects as Def.

Ending things while it’s good.

Exactly. (Laughs)

Is writing lyrics harder than producing/writing music these days?

Yes. It would be easier if I wrote in a basic way but I think it’s because I think about using special expressions and words. But if I focus too much on that, it doesn’t go well with the song; it’s sort of a dilemma.

You often used words like ‘fiction,’ and ‘story’ in interviews. We also got a peek at your love for poetry, novels, and literature.

That’s right. I like to read. I find that reading often works together with working on music. These days, I often think about how making an album is like writing a poetry book.

What was the book you were reading while getting your makeup done earlier?

Oh, this? (Shows C’est Tout [“That is all” in English] by Marguerite Duras) It was a book gifted by a fan. I’m not sure whether it’s poetry or prose. It’s not easy to understand at once so I’m going to read it again next time.

You seem to be interested in a variety of things. You like writing, you learned art/drawing/painting for a while too. As for photography, you even opened an exhibition past the point of it being just a hobby.

No, photography is just a hobby too. (Laughs)

Will you be opening another exhibition?

I’ve actually been wanting to these days, so I’ve been thinking about what the theme should be.

I loved the lonely atmosphere of your first exhibition, .

I think I will be continuing with the gloomy feeling this time too. I gathered the pictures I took and I realized many of them have that mood. Things like discarded trash, or a person alone far away.

You’re on the action-oriented side, right?

I didn’t think so before but I think I sort of am. So it’s tiring for the people around me. (Laughs) I don’t make big plans but I think I’ve well accomplished the goals I make at each moment throughout my life.

You said you started dancing to forget about loneliness. What was Lim Jaebeom (real name) like as a kid?

A character that you can’t tell if he’s there or not? Not that I was a bad kid but I think I did have a rebellious side. I always had earphones on.

In terms of seating in the classroom, where would you be?

At the very back?

What? That’s totally a popular kids’ seat. (Laughs)

At the very back but in front of the cleaning supplies… (Laughs)

You’re 30 years old this year. How has your personality changed after all this time, and what is one inherent trait that won’t change?

I’ve become softer. I’m more prudent when it comes to work. Oh, and the part of my innate personality that I’m most satisfied with is that if I’m wrong, then I will admit I’m wrong. Even though I may not feel good about it in the moment, I would try to work hard to change it.

Is it like that in regards to the feedback about your work as well?

Of course. When someone says, “This is kind of bad?” I’ll ask where specifically but it has to be reasonable. For example, this bar doesn’t match the song’s vibes, or the top notes should have more variety. If I’m given understandable feedback like this, then I 100% can accept them.

Wouldn’t it be because you are confident that you can accept that much criticism?

It’s not like that. I’m not very confident, and I have low self-esteem. But, I don’t pay any mind to others. I also don’t tend to be envious of others who do well, but of course, I am envious of people who work hard and become successful. I’m curious about how they got to where they are and their mindset, but I’m not jealous of success itself.

What is JAY B’s biggest motivation to go on right now?

I think it’s willpower/volition. My own willpower. Like the way I make sure to do the dishes even though I want to sleep right after eating, I try not to put off tasks and take care of them immediately because I very well know that if I don’t, then I become endlessly lazy. So I think small senses of accomplishment pile up from things like that and act as the grease for my gears.

Once this interview ends, what does JAY B have to do with his own will?

I have plans with a friend so I’ll meet up with them for a while, and then I’ll go home and organise my camping equipment.

You’re doing this photoshoot until late at night yet you still have so much you plan to do. (Laughs) Aren’t you too diligent?

I try because I’m lazy. I say this and then I always sleep in. (Laughs)

Translated by defdaily.

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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

Text

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 3

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello's masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 3497 (oops 🙈)

Additional note: what you’re going to read is not realistic.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

With his stomach in knots and a frown on his face, Ivar watches closely his godfather, who enters the living-room, wheeling a large trolley case behind him.

"Hello, Ivar." Floki looks around, an eyebrow raised questioningly, "Lagertha isn't here?", before flopping down on the corner sofa.

"No," Ivar shakes his head, wheeling up next to him, "She's out on a date with this English guy... Hammond, Halmund or whatever his name is."

Scratching his ear, Floki tilts his head, "but she knows you're going, right?" He pulls the trolley case closer and then snorts, mumbling under his breath, "don't think I can't see you rolling your eyes!"

"What do you think? Of course, she knows. She said, and I quote," Ivar raises his hands to make air quotes, his voice tinged with obvious annoyance, "'Of course you can go, sweetie, you know I don't want to be the one holding you back. Call me if anything goes wrong. And don't forget to take your meds.'"

"She cares, Ivar." Floki's tone is soft as he places a hand on his godson's shoulder.

Ivar lowers his gaze. "You should have taken me in." His words are barely audible and suddenly he feels like he's eleven again and he has to swallow against the sudden dryness in his throat.

"You do know that back then I wasn't in a good place." Floki's sad sigh almost gets Ivar in tears as memories of his parents and Helga flood his mind. The pain in his heart becomes nearly unbearable but he fights it off with all his might. He never wants to feel broken and lost again.

Ivar lifts his head up and Floki can see the stubbornness in his eyes. "I could live with you now."

"No, you could not, and you know it!" Floki smiles and taps Ivar on the cheek. "Ivar, I live between two flights, today in Norway, yesterday in Iceland and after-tomorrow in Canada. What kind of life would this be for you, huh? And besides, living with Lagertha is not that bad."

But living with Sigurd is! Ivar wants to shout. He keeps quiet, though, shrugging before eventually mumbling. "Guess not..."

"So," Floki starts, eager to change the subject, "where are your brothers, by the way?"

"Where do you think they are, huh, you knock-kneed fool? They're already there." Ivar glances at his watch, furrowing his brow. "Harald's party started twenty minutes ago."

"We better hurry up, then!" Crouching down, Floki slowly opens the suitcase under Ivar's scrutinizing gaze.

"Quick!" Ivar commands, barely able to contain his impatience, his nervous fingers tapping his push rims. "What do you have for me, old man, huh?" He even contemplates climbing out of his chair to open it himself, but the fear of breaking a bone at the worst possible time is stronger than his eagerness.

"You're going to calm down, young Padawan." Floki quips, slowly moving his hand in front of Ivar with eyes full of mischief. Ivar immediately slaps his godfather's hand away, mumbling under his breath, "I'd rather be a Sith Lord." That earns him a loud, hysterical laugh from his godfather.

Ivar grunts, ready to protest, but all thoughts leave his mind as soon as he's able to see what is in the trolley case. The scowl on his face obvious, he doesn't even try to hide his disappointment as he utters, "you made me braces?"

He hates braces with a passion. Along with underarm crutches, he had some, as a child. They were bulky, stiff, painful and walking with them was tedious, agonizingly slow, and exhausting. Ragnar had been adamant that he wanted his youngest to walk, no matter the struggles, no matter the nearly unbearable pain. Ivar had settled his ass in a wheelchair the day of his father's funeral, getting rid of his braces shortly after, a decision he had never regretted. So no, such torture devices were not at all what he was hoping for.

"Have a little faith in me," Floki rolls his eyes. "These," he looks lovingly at the strange contraptions in his hands, "are not braces, Ivar. Have you and your crippled ass ever heard of exoskeleton?"

Ivar's eyes widen. "It's that thing used in rehab that allows paraplegics to walk, right?" As Floki nods, Ivar gives him a puzzled glance. "But, erm, you do know I don't have a spinal cord injury, don't you? Or are you suffering from memory loss? Maybe it's your age?"

Dismissing the remark with an exasperated wave of his hand, Floki hisses, "I'm well aware that you don't, godson dearest," before narrowing his eyes, his voice now serious, "you may have full sensation in both legs, yet they can't exactly support your weight and your lack of motor function can't be denied. Not really different from some paraplegic dudes, what do you think?"

Feeling a heavy lump in his throat, Ivar frowns, not pleased with the idea of him being like a paraplegic. Almost without thinking, he contracts his quads as best he can, as if he wants to make sure he's still able to do it.

Floki doesn't miss the barely-there movements in his thighs, though, and his voice softens. "Look Ivar, you're not a paraplegic, okay? But I used the exoskeleton technology. And since you're not paralyzed, I was able to make a smaller device that you can wear underneath your clothes, and you're going to walk. I mean, really walk, not just like those guys in rehab, between parallels bars and with a PT right behind them."

Ivar, his eyes bright, stares at his godfather, slack-jawed with amazement. "I'm..." He begins to sputter, voice filled with emotion, "I'm really going to walk?" Feeling like his heart is pounding out of his chest, he fails to contain his excitement, drumming the fingers of his right hand on his lap. He'd tap his feet if only he could.

"You are." Floki nods before taking out of the trolley case a pair of dress shoes. "I put dozens of sensors in the insole of these shoes, which will enable the exoskeleton to correct your stance practically every second. Therefore, you won't need crutches, although I would say it's safer for you to use this." Reaching down, he grabs a black derby-style cane, simple and sleek in design. "You know," he shrugs, "just for extra support. Better safe than sorry, hmh?"

Ivar, who doesn't even flinch when he sees the walking stick, just reaches out, his hand grazing the carbon fiber exoskeleton. "Is it really for me?" His eyes filled with wonder, his voice trembling, his lips stretch across his face as his godfather nods. "And you made this in what?... four, five days?"

Letting out his signature giggle, Floki waggles his fingers in front of his face. "Even I couldn't make this in such a short time. No, the truth is, I've been working on it for a while. Let's say your phone call just sped things up. Though I must say, this marvel of technology is not flawless... It has a really low battery life, like four hours of autonomy at best. If I had more time, I certainly could have done better, but for now, it is what it is and you'll have to make do with what you've got." Pursing his lips, he glances at his watch, "So, just so you know, if you put this on now, you'll have to come back around midnight if you don't want to have to crawl around. And if you hear a beep, you'd better hurry, okay?"

As Ivar just nods, his beaming smile never fading, Floki adds, tilting his head, "and now, go get ready, young Padawan, you have a party to attend!"

***

Sitting on a bench at the seaside, Ivar watches the party from afar, a feeling of uneasiness tightening his chest. It was a mistake. Attending to this party was a mistake. Despite the exoskeleton, despite the fact that he walks almost normally, it was a mistake. He shouldn't have come. He shouldn't be here. Anxiety surges like the swell of a wave, and he struggles to breathe. Sigurd was right: he doesn't belong here, doesn't belong to this life.

A part of him wants to leave. It would be better to run away, to go hide in his room. But he won't. He can't. Because just a moment ago he saw you. Because he's not ready to give up on you now that he is here, eventually close to you.

He recognized you the moment his eyes fell on you. Looking radiant in a polka dot dress, you're as pretty as he remembers. Pretty? Who's he kidding? The girl you were six years ago was pretty. You're a woman now, and one of the most beautiful he's ever seen.

Glowing, smiling at everyone, you didn't even see him. In his head, of course, he makes plans to approach you, even if deep down, he knows all too well he'll never muster enough courage to talk to you. You probably wouldn't want him to anyway. After all, he may be standing tall today, yet he's still a freak, a fucking cripple. He's still cursed with his bony, twisted, useless legs. He's still a burden.

Yet, there's this little voice inside of him, barely audible, whispering that you're not like this, that you never were in the first place; and that's partly why the ten-year-old boy he was when he first met you felt drawn to you almost instantly.

Closing his eyes, he focuses on his breathing and decides to take a little trip down memory lane, bringing him back to that sunny, summer day of his first – and only – encounter with you. His memory so vivid it's like it happened only yesterday.

He can't hear the chirping of birds as his brothers are loudly playing and bickering in the pool. His beloved mother is nowhere to be seen and he's willing to bet she's taking a nap, but not without first making sure he has everything he could possibly need. Lying on a sunbed in the shade of an oak, a glass of lemonade within reach and a thick book on his lap, he hardly notices his father coming into the backyard, Harald Hårfager following close behind.

Since Ivar knows Harald is here to talk business with his father, he pays no attention to the two men, who take their seats at the patio dining table.

He nearly falls off the sunbed when a tiny voice startles him. "Hello!"

Stunned, he turns his head towards the voice and comes face to face with a smiling girl he doesn't know. You. He'd say you're about his age.

"I'm Y/N," you tell him, waving your hand shyly. "I'm at my uncle's for the weekend," you keep going, pointing your finger at Harald, "and I was wondering... May I join you?" You finally ask, dragging a second sunbed closer to his.

His first instinct is to look around, because you can't possibly be talking to him. Why would you? Surely you can't have failed to spot his leg braces, nor his hideous orthopedic shoes. You can't have missed that he's a cripple.

Frowning as he sees that no one is around, he snorts, his nostrils flaring. He can tell you're wearing a swimsuit under your pink dress. What do you want, then? Are you here to mock and ridicule him or what?

"You better get in the pool with my brothers." He knows he sounds rude, not answering nor greeting you, but he doesn't care. He doesn't want to be made fun of and doesn't intend to give you the chance to do it.

Seemingly undeterred, you speak with a soft voice. "No, I'd rather not." Your smile is so genuine he can't help but think you mean no harm. "Actually," you shrug, sitting next to him, "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind. What are you reading?"

Gobsmacked, he just looks at you – and gods, how pretty you are! – for a long time, unable to utter a single word. Are you truly interested in what he's reading? Interested in him? He swallows hard, his heart racing. A small smile dancing on your lips, your kind eyes never leave his as you wait, full of hope, for him to finally talk to you.

And that's what he ends up doing, almost in spite of himself. For the next two hours, he shows you his astronomy book, a gift from his godfather for his tenth birthday, and tells you about the stars, the constellations and the nights he spends watching the sky, when his mother allows him to. And for two hours you listen to him, asking a question here or there and always smiling. He's pretty sure you're not faking being interested in what he's saying.

All too soon, your uncle tells you it's time to go and you stand up with a scowl, letting out a sigh of regret. The next moment, you flash Ivar a grin. "I had a really great time with you, thanks! I'm going back to my mom's tomorrow but I hope we can spend time together again sometime, maybe next summer. I'd love to stargaze with you, you know?" With that, you lean forward and as your lips touch his cheek, Ivar's breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.

Ivar inhales deeply. That kiss... That's when he fell madly and hopelessly in love with you. If he concentrates enough, he can still feel the softness of your lips against his skin, still smell your sweet, flowery scent.

That day, he had watched you leave with a smile on your face, already dreaming of the day he would see you again. You had said "next summer" and even though it was a long time away, he was willing to wait. In the meantime, he would have plenty of memories to recall - your joyful voice, your sparkling eyes, your lovely smile... Sure, he could wait.

And he had waited, hopeful and happier than he had been in a long time.

Not long after, however, his life had been turned upside down, his father being murdered and his mother dying in a car crash. Lost, angry, broken, and infinitely sad, he had gone through the following months as if anesthetized - barely living, hardly functioning, sometimes feeling as if the memory of you was the only thing keeping him from drowning.

Yet, and he doesn't know why – or perhaps simply because Ragnar being dead, Harald had no reason to visit anymore – he had never seen you again.

"Hello!"

His whole body freezes and he stops breathing. This voice... Your voice... He'd know it anywhere. Yet, it can't be, right? Did he fall asleep? Is he dreaming? Is one of his brothers tricking him? Why would you talk to the cripple?

"My name is Y/N." He can hear the smile in your voice. "I was wondering... May I join you?"

Summoning the courage he's not sure he has, Ivar looks tentatively toward you.

Gods! You're even more beautiful up close. Fuck. Now that you're here, right next to him, he doesn't know what to say, what to do. Panic seizes his hammering heart as a lump rises in his throat. He attempts to swallow around it to speak, to say something, anything, but the words won't come out and he finally just nods, his hand gesturing to the bench for you to sit on.

"Thanks," you give him a broad smile before taking your seat.

Ivar cannot believe his eyes. What are you doing? Did you recognize him? Why are you here, with him?

"Woul–", he sputters, struggling to find his voice, "Wouldn't you rather be there?" Pointing his index finger at the crowd gathered in front of the makeshift stage just a few meters away. He frowns, tilting his head, "the party is in full swing."

"No, I'd rather not." You shrug and as you turn your head toward him, he breathes in your sweet scent, suddenly feeling dizzy. "The guys are already drunk and really have one thing on their minds. And those who are not are boring." You lower your gaze, as if embarrassed, and it's so adorable Ivar feels like his heart is melting. "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind."

Oh, he doesn't. He doesn't mind at all. The truth is, there's a fucking firework inside of him, and he barely contains the screams of happiness that threaten to escape his lips. "That's okay, you can stay," he says instead, his fidgeting fingers dancing on his lap.

Over the next hour or so, the conversation flows easily as you speak about Karasjok, the small town where you live, telling him about your mother's people, the Sami, their culture and customs.

Ivar shares with you bits and pieces of his life too, speaking about his passion for the Viking culture and about his belief in the ancient gods. The night, his night, is full of your laughs, full of your smiles, full of you. He wants it to never end.

He's still trying to figure out if you know who he is, if you remember meeting him once when you rise to your feet, almost bouncing with enthusiasm. "Walk with me, will you?"

He's about to break the truth about his inability to walk when he remembers that actually, thanks to Floki, he can. His eyes never leave yours as he grabs his cane with a little bit of self-consciousness, wincing as he stands up, but he can't see disgust, contempt, or disappointment on your face and your smile doesn't falter as you delicately slip your hand under his free arm, curling your fingers back over it. Shaken by your sudden proximity, Ivar feels goosebumps rising on his skin.

"It's such a lovely night and I'm so happy spending it with you."

Your words leave him speechless as you lead him close to the water. A bunch of guys can be seen in the distance and Ivar is pretty sure his brothers are among them. He can feel their heavy stares on him and doesn't need to hear them to know what they're saying. "Who's this dude? Do we know him?" Standing tall, with his braided hair and a blue suit, he knows he doesn't look like himself. Yet, as he locks eyes with Hvitserk for a second, he'd sworn he sees a hint of recognition crossing his brother's face. And as the latter gives him a thumbs up, he knows his mind is not playing tricks with him.

"Oh, I love this song!" You clap your hands twice before shrugging shyly. "Let's dance, please!"

Ivar's heart breaks. Scared out of his wits, he swallows hard, his breathing uneven. "I... I can't." It's a painful admission, and he wishes the ground would just swallow him up.

He realizes you pay no mind to his defeated tone, though, as you grab his cane, leaning it against a nearby tree. "We'll go slow, I promise."

Almost in spite of himself, he places his hands on your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. Gently – cautiously – swaying to the music, Ivar leans in close and, inhaling deeply your delightful scent, he feels like he's going to spontaneously combust. Your head resting on his chest, he's sure you can hear his frantic, pounding heartbeat. But he can't bring himself to care, not when you're finally exactly where he wants you to be. In his arms.

That's why he doesn't hear the first beep, or if he does, he doesn't pay any attention, entranced by your beauty, your kindness and the mesmerizing color of your eyes.

But when you stop dancing, your eyebrows raised, "What's that beeping noise? It doesn't stop," he hears it too, cold sweats washing over him as panic courses through his body.

"I... I must... I must go," he stammers, and honestly he's about to throw up. He can't think, can't speak. All he knows is that he doesn't want you seeing him crawling around. He won't allow it. He can't.

Fuck.

That's why he leaves. He just strolls off. He doesn't see the appalled look you're giving him, doesn’t' realize he's leaving his black cane behind, doesn't hear the despair in your tone as you shout, "wait, please! I don't even know your name!"

He has only taken a few steps when crocodile tears run down his cheeks, blurring his sight. It hurts so much he could scream, and he can barely breathe as the realization starts to sink in. Who was he trying to fool? Sigurd had been right all along. No matter the exoskeleton, no matter the genius of his godfather, he's still a freak. A monster. An abnormality.

He doesn't belong. He's not worthy.

Fuck.

His heart shatters in a thousand pieces.

Fuck.

Y/N.

Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @adrille88

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927 @dini73

#ivar #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern-ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #cherrypie’s500 #fairytale retelling #ivarello

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sitp-recs · 3 years

Text

(Perfect artwork for Modern Love, by @cambiodipolvere)

Today is the day of one of my favorite people! And I totally resent @tackytigerfic and Starry for almost sharing the same birthday, god the STRESS 😂 Tacky is my first and closest fandom friend. We clicked together so fast and easy that sometimes it feels like I’ve known her all my life, like we’re two dog moms living in the same neighborhood who happen to read fic in their free time. Despite our conflicting time zones and crazy schedules we manage to chat every other day, tagging and sending each other all kinds of stuff, coming together to cry scream about a brilliant fic we’ve just read or shaking our heads in embarrassment at every other unnecessary bullshit post. Tacky’s bright and wise energy uplifts my spirit even on my moody days, and makes me grateful for her friendship and for this fandom life. Okay so this got long and I had to put the rest under the cut:

It’s such a lovely and precious thing, to have someone with whom you can share every single thought that crosses your mind, your scariest, most embarrassing, petty or disturbing idea, without fear of being shamed or judged by it. I trust Tacky with all my heart to hear me out, share a joke or a piece of advice, even on the (rare) occasions when we don’t get the same perspective - that doesn’t happen often when it comes to Drarry, as we are taste twins!

Tacky my darling, you’re such a good person, and such an incredible friend. Thank you for introducing me to this lovely community, for being my safe haven and your unique self, with so many qualities I admire and feel inspired by: kind, witty, earnest, wise, and so very human. I love your humour and empathy, and your chill yet no-nonsense personality; I love your talent and how articulated you are; I love your passion for Drarry, and how you let this emotion inform the way you navigate the fandom and create for it. And god, but you’ve been creating some of the most beautiful content I’ve seen in these recent years! I’m permanently in awe of your ability to write Drarry in any shape, format or length, transforming even the most ordinary moment into an extraordinary and meaningful piece of character or relationship development. You know how you mentioned yesterday that some authors change the way you feel about a ship in a deep, definitive way? Well, you are that author for me. Your works made me fall in love with M-rated contemplative romance, and also allowed me to fall in love with Harry in a way I never thought it was possible before.

Some people - myself included - got to know you through the fun and intriguing A Lick and a Promise, others through the atmospheric and sensitive Modern Love, others through your contemplative and heartbreaking short form. Each story has its merits and purpose, and all of them share a Tacky trademark: the heartkick factor! Your talent has no limits and goes across different genres and tropes, that you explore with a bold twist full of personality and heart. And even more impressive is your consistency at always raising the bar - every new fic of yours becomes an instant fave and makes me think “wow I thought Tacky couldn’t get better yet here we are”. Seeing how your writing evolves as you find your narrative voice is a beautiful and humbling experience, I feel so lucky!

I’m really grateful for being active in the fandom at this moment in time, because that allows me to read and engage with your brilliant work, and to have you as a dear friend. I can’t wait to see what comes out of your beautiful brain next. It was an impossible job choosing a single fic to rec today, so I decided to do a belated Tacky reclist! Naturally these are my personal and biased must-reads, and I urge everyone to go check these beauties right now. Feel free to include your own favorites too, and don’t forget to leave them some appreciation.

Happy happy birthday my darling Tacky! This fandom life wouldn’t be the same without you. I hope you have the amazing day you deserve!

Between the Power Lines (2020, M, 3.2k)

The road trip fic you didn’t know you needed. I got utterly immersed in the heartbreaking quietness of this, feeling like a witness to an ordinary yet poignant love story. Such tender intimacy, such character development, such lovely American aesthetics with barely any dialogue. This is, IMO, the fic that reveals Tacky’s triumph in storytelling.

Even the Night (2020, M, 3.4k)

This fic has a surreal atmosphere, those Midsummer vibes unbelievably sexy and intoxicating linked to the sensorial experience of fumbling together in the night. Masterclass in tension building, a silky and languid dream-like affair.

Aim for my Heart (2021, M, 3.4k) - Harry/Draco/Ron

One of the most sensitive and stunning portraits I’ve ever seen of a poly/triad relationship, this fic packs so much character and longing! It’s a privilege to watch Ron and Draco’s tentative dynamics through the smitten eyes of the one person that loves them like no one else: Harry.

The Long Fall (2021, M, 3.6k)

I can’t even write about this tender domesticity without getting a lump in my throat. Best opening scene I’ve read in years, and a refreshing way to approach both mpreg and parenthood, painfully honest and lovely. This became an immediate comfort read for me, and it’s probably one of the fics I revisit the most.

Mortal Frame (2021, M, 6.6k)

This thrilling, fast-paced spy story left me breathless since the first paragraph, gods what an immersive ride! I’m so here for Drarry on the run, sharp and urgent with danger but mellowed by the silent trust and tender intimacy only Tacky can master. Major bonus points for the brilliant take on the Horcrux hunt plot line!

Last Offices (2020, M, 6.7k)

Oh, this fic 💔 I tend to avoid MCD but there’s something so deeply fascinating about body washing rituals that I caught myself mesmerized by this. I just couldn’t put it down, so emotionally compromised I felt. There’s a sort of strange comfort in the heartbreak of doing one last act of service out of devotion to someone. This fic inspired so many difficult but lovely feelings in me, and one of them was hope. Only Tacky could possibly achieve that!

Our Little Life (2020, M, 7.2k)

Inventive and singular, this story hit me straight on the solar plexus and left me speechless as I saw the (clever, magical and bittersweet) plot unravel. Such a fabulous take on alternate universes and all the angst potential behind it. Come and bask in the yearning melancholia of a short yet intricate and perfectly executed plot.

And One to Play (2019, E, 21k)

What a fun and delightful fic, I can’t have enough of pining Harry losing all sense of propriety when faced with a hot, competent and pragmatic Draco. This has fab dynamics, unhinged protectiveness, even more unhinged attraction between two idiots who can’t keep their hands off each other. A must-read for any Auror partners fan!

A Lick and a Promise (2019, E, 55k)

Hot, BAMF Professors carefully balancing a fuck buddies situation while solving a Hogwarts mystery, do we need anything else? I certainly do not. This fic is so fun and intriguing and immersive, with amazing supportive cast and a delicious get together feat secret shagging and oblivious pining. Love it!

Modern Love (2020, E, 61k)

My favorite read of 2020, this fic is a love letter to Drarry and will always hold a piece of my soul. Sensitive, wistful, tenderly aching and so very romantic, this is a Muggle Draco triumph with a superb Harry, exquisite slow burn and a side of suds comfort. I promise it will be impossible to listen to Bowie again without thinking of this love story.

Bonus: five stunning drabbles!

Something in the Way (2021, T, 119 words)

“Up,” he said, and Draco, sick with love, raised his arms above his head and allowed Potter to slide the jumper on him, big hands stroking it flat over Draco’s stomach until they both shivered.

Stir-Up Sunday (2020, M, 300 words)

“I want you always,” he said, tugging again on the fine curling length of it. “Is it okay to say that?”

Whalebone Arch (2021, M, 722 words)

“Are you still not talking to me?” Draco steered Harry towards the crisps. “Do I have to suck you off in the loo to cheer you up?”

Semiplume (2021, T, 923 words)

“Did you know,” Harry murmured, and he put his arms around Draco, fearless. “I’d be your mate. If you needed a mate, I mean.”

Relic Radiation (2021, M, 927 words)

“You’ll kill me,” Harry said, and Draco turned his face towards the darkened sky, lunar pale, his profile some stupid unearthly thing—a flaring blazar, a supernova—in the light from the kitchen window.

#drarry fic rec #Drarry reclist #happy birthday Tacky!#fave

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x-reader-theater · 3 years

Text

A Shakespearean Soliloquy in Two Parts

Relationship: Asexua!Spemcer Reid x Asexual!Male!Reader

Summary: “Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” William Shakespeare, Julius Ceaser

Warnings: Scool shooting, asexual Spencer Reid and reader, implied autism.

Word Count: 7520 words

A/N: To be frank, I meant to post this at like, three pm. Also Asexual Spencer Reid owns my ass and I will only write him as such. Please enjoy. Edited by the outstanding, amazing, show stopping @mystic-writes . I love you please forgive me for forgetting.

"Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream" –A Midsummer Night's Dream

"Hey, Shelly," you say with a smile at the small book store you are currently checking out in. "Good to see you again."

"You as well! Only one book this week?" Shelly asks and you nod.

"Yeah. I have too much work to do, so I can't focus on more than one book," you say.

She scans your book and you pay quickly. She hands you the book back and says with a smile, "Enjoy your book!"

You nod and turn around quickly, taking a step, before colliding with someone. The books in their hands go crashing to the floor, and you do as well, crying out as you land suddenly on your tailbone, and stars flash before your eyes.

"I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have been that close and I wasn't paying attention, and I should have been looking where I was going and-" you hold up a hand to silence the man who was speaking a mile a minute in front of you.

"Really, it's okay. It was my fault," you say, wincing as you try and get up.

The man holds out a hand out and you take it. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He takes his hand back almost immediately once you're standing and you smile. "No, not really. Just bruised my tailbone," you say and the man sighs.

You lean down and pick up a couple of the books he was carrying, and when you go to the last book, his fingers brush yours. You look up and see your faces are inches from one another, and you feel your face heating up. You see him blush as well and you both pull your hands away. You stand up so he can grab the last book and you shove the books you're holding into his arms.

"Sorry again!" you say, not looking at him, and you leave because you can’t embarrass yourself any more.

It isn't until you're in your car that you realize you gave him your book as well.

"Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love." –Hamlet

You walk into the Alley Cat Café, a new café that just opened a block from your flat that also offered an area where you could hang out with adoptable cats. You never went in there because you would just adopt all of them and you didn't have the time for that right now.

You walk into the café and the little bell above the door jingles to signal your arrival. You walk up to the counter and order your regular, the Calico Chai, and pay before finding a seat near the back close to the window where you could watch the cats. Your order is called, and as you get up, you look over to a table, and see a very familiar man reading a book at a remarkable speed.

You distractedly grab your tea and go back to your table, gathering up your things before plopping yourself next to the man.

"Hello again!" you exclaim and he jumps, looking up from his reading to glare at whoever interrupted him.

When he locks eyes with you, however, his eyes widen. "Oh! Hello!" he exclaims and a small smile forms on his lips.

"I think I may have given you my book on Tuesday," you say sheepishly, and his eyes widen even more and his mouth drops open adorably.

He turns and fishes around in his bag, before turning back to you and holding out a book in both hands. "I've been carrying it around with me hoping to give it back to you," he says, blushing, and you grin, taking the book from his hands, your fingers brushing his.

"Well, thank you," you say, grabbing the large book.

"So, the complete works of Shakespeare, huh?" the man asks and you nod.

"Yeah. I've never actually owned a copy before," you say. "I've only taken it out from the library or borrowed it from friends. I actually wanted to major in Shakespearean studies in college before ultimately deciding to go another way." The man nods, and silence falls over you for a moment before you say, "You know, I never got your name."

"Oh! Doctor Spencer Reid," he says with a wave.

You wave back and say, "Doctor [Y/N] [L/N]."

"What's your doctorate in?" he asks, excited.

You reply, "Biological Anthropology. I teach it at Georgetown."

"That's where I got my PHD in Chemistry," Spencer says and you grin.

"Really? When was that?" you ask.

"Thirteen years, two months, six days, and seventeen hours ago," he says and you blink owlishly.

You think for a moment before saying, "You must have been really young when you got that."

He nods. "I was seventeen. It was my second PHD. I have three. One in mathematics, one in chemistry, and one in engineering. I also have five BAs."

You stare at him for a moment, not saying anything, before you whisper, "That's really impressive." You feel your cheeks heat up. "I didn't get my PHD until I was nearly 25."

"I have an IQ of 187, and eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words a minute," he says and you smile.

"You're one of a kind, Spencer Reid," you say, holding your book to your chest. "That must have been a very lonely childhood though," you remark, and he looks away from you. He nods but doesn't say anything. "What do you do now?"

"I'm a profiler with the FBI in their behavioral analysis unit," he explains and you smile.

"Maybe I'll have you come in and lecture to one of my classes some time," you say and he smiles. "Though Biological Anthropology isn't very exciting to anyone but me…" you look away and scratch the back of your neck, but Spencer assuages your fears.

"Actually, I find it quite interesting. I read an article the other day about how work stress is actually de-evolving humans, causing their bones to actually lose density, causing them more physical pain and inability to do physical tasks, as well as loss of sleep, appetite, and more," he says, and you grin.

"But, the study was only on French individuals, and it could have different results based on where the study is done. Like, in Japan for example, there may be the same amount of stress but they handle it better because in their culture, work is just a part of life and you have to deal with stress. Or in America, where we have different ways of dealing with stress that may cloud the findings," you add, and he nods.

"That is true, though you'd have to factor that into the initial hypothesis and-"

Spencer is cut off by his phone ringing. He picks it up and the phone call ends quickly.

"I'm so sorry to have to do this, but I have to go to work. We have a case," he says and you nod in understanding.

"Of course. It was nice talking to you Spencer. I hope we can talk again some time!" you exclaim.

A small smile tugs at his lips and he says, "I do too, [Y/N]."

You stare at each other for a couple moments before he turns around and leaves the café. You sip your now cold tea and realize you didn't get Spencer's number.

“Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt." –Measure for Measure

You sit at the bar and nurse your glass of water as the music and lights cause a headache to split at your temples. You groan and massage your head, but it doesn't do anything to relieve the pain. You take another sip of your water, and look up to see a familiar face looking down at you.

"Co-workers bring you here too?" Spencer asks and you smile and nod.

"Yeah. It's Fiona's birthday today and she wanted to go to a club," you say, and Spencer sits down next to you. "I got dragged along. And apparently I got a splitting headache too."

"Do you want any help with that?" Spencer asks and you look at him, questioningly. "Turn around."

You do as he asks, slowly, and you feel his fingers lightly resting on your neck. You wince as he presses into your spine right where your head and neck meet, but after thirty seconds he releases, and your headache dissipates. You grin and turn around.

"How did you know to do that?" you ask.

He shrugs. "I had chronic migraines when I was younger, and I read a book on pressure points once," he explains and you nod in understanding.

"Right. You're a genius," you say with a forced smile and he frowns. You sigh. "You just…" you put a hand on his cheek, and he stiffens for a moment before relaxing into your touch. "You make me feel inferior. Like I'm just never going to do as well as you."

Spencer grabs your hand lightly and squeezes it, putting it away from your face as he looks into your eyes. "Trust me, you have nothing to worry about. You're a doctor working at one of the best schools in the country," he says and you smile. He returns it. "And, don't compare yourself to me. I can read 20,000 words a minute. I'm a freak. You're more normal than I am."

"Spencer Reid, don't you ever say that again!" you exclaim, taking his other hand in your own. "You are not a freak!" He goes to protest but you take one of your hands from his grip and put it over his lips. "Nope. No arguing. What I say is final."

You pull your hand away and you see he's smiling. "Yes, Doctor," he says, his words dripping with sarcasm.

You grin, before gasping. He looks alarmed as you say, "Oh! I forgot!" he places his hands on your arms. "You didn't give me your number in the café!"

He sighs in what looks to be relief, before reaching into his pocket and taking out his wallet. "You want to see a magic trick?"

You nod and he grins an adorable smile that has you grinning as well. He holds up a business card, probably his business card, and moves his hands in front of his face, and when they cross back over, the card is gone.

"Oh come on! It's behind your hand! I know this trick," you say, and he raises an eyebrow.

He opens up his fingers and turns his hand around, showing it's nowhere to be seen. Your eyes go wide and your mouth drops slightly in awe.

"Hey, I think you have something in your hair… right there…" he says, pointing to your left ear, and you reach up before he can touch you.

You feel something, and when you pull it out in front of you, you see it's Spencer's business card.

You laugh and flip the card over, checking to see if it's real or not. But it very much is.

"Wow Spencer, that's amazing!" you exclaim and his cheeks flare red. You take out your phone and put his number in, calling it. He looks up at you and you place your phone to your ear. He picks up and you say with a smile, "There. Now you have my number too."

"This sounds very strange, can I hang up now?" Spencer says out loud, and it's repeated in your ear only moments after. You laugh and nod, and the two of you hang up your phones.

Almost immediately, his phone starts ringing again, and you put up your hands in innocence.

"JJ," he says into the receiver, pausing for a moment, before saying quickly, "I'll be right there." He hangs up his phone and places it in his pocket, before saying quickly. "Sorry, that was work. I really have to go."

You smile and nod. "You have a job to do. Go save some lives." He smiles and turns to leave, but you call out, "Spencer!" he turns around and you stand up, lean forward, and place a kiss on his cheek. "For good luck."

He grins and walks out of the club. You watch as a couple more people file out, and sit back in your seat and finish your water.

"Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. then your love would also change." –Romeo and Juliet

You're flipping through papers when you hear someone call out to you.

"[Y/N]!" they shout and looking up you see Spencer Reid walking down the hallway towards you, a messenger bag slung around his shoulder. He was wearing something similar to what he was wearing in the club only two nights ago.

"Case ended early?" you ask and he nods.

"Yeah. Child abduction. We had less than forty eight hours to get the child back alive since the family didn't report her missing until twenty four hours had passed," he says.

"And did you? Get the child back alive, I mean," you ask and he nods. You grin.

"Oh, good. So! What are you doing here? You didn't come just to see me, did you?"

Spencer blushes and you place a hand on his arm. "No, Doctor Priya Chopra wanted my help on an article she's going to write about fungal growth on skin and the potential benefits it could have, as well as any side effects it may cause," he says and you nod.

"Well, I can show you to her office! She's new so it wouldn't have updated on any maps yet," you say and Spencer nods.

He stops and you halt in front of him, turning as he says, "Oh! Do you want me to carry any of your papers?"

You smile and shake your head. "No, it's okay. I'll just have to walk back anyways. My office is in the other direction."

"Oh, I don't want you to have to go out of your way. I can probably find it on my own…" Spencer trails off, looking helplessly at the myriad of plain beige hallways.

You shake your head and bump your shoulder with his. "Really. It's not a big deal. I want to do this," you say with a smile. He smiles back and you lead him down a couple hallways, until you stop at a door with a nameplate that reads, 'Dr. Priya Chopra, PHD'.

"Well, this is your stop," you say, almost sad with a slight slump to your shoulders. "With that eidetic memory of yours, I don't think you need me to show you around anymore."

Spencer places a hand on the small of your back and points at the paperwork in your arms. "You look like you could use a little help. How about I come by after my talk with Doctor Chopra? I know where your office is," he says and you grin.

"I would love that, Spencer," you say, and watch him until he disappears behind Doctor Chopra's door.

"One may smile, and smile, and be a villain." –Hamlet

You hear a knock at your door and you look up from your work to see a familiar head pop out from behind the door. You grin and say, "Parker! It's good to see you again! Come in."

The young man with dark circles under his eyes slowly walks into your office, he wrings his hands out in front of him, and sits down in the chair across from yours. He slowly takes his backpack off and reaches in, pulling out a grey folder. The movements were slow and methodical, but you can see the young man's hands shaking slightly as he does so. Finally, he pulls out a stapled stack of papers and holds it out to you.

You take it carefully and frown, looking it over. It was one of his essays that you just gave back a couple days ago with a big red 'F' on the front.

"Why did you fail me?" Parker whispers and you sigh.

You lean back in your chair, folding your fingers on your stomach as you say, "Your essay is all over the place. There isn't a coherent theme or message in any of it. Also, you should really find someone to help edit your grammar at least. You have misspellings and incorrect comma usage all over the place, Parker." The man in question looks down away from you and you sigh again, this time louder and lean forward onto your desk. "How about this. Go to the writing center on campus, find someone to help plan out your essay, and if you do a good job, I'll bump up your score to at least a B, if not more if you do really well, okay?"

Parker looks up at you and gives you a toothy, forced smile, almost as if he doesn't smile much in his life, and says, "Thank you, Mr. [Y/N]."

You smile and nod, handing the paper back to him, and just as someone knocks at your door, he gets up.

Opening the door, Parker comes face to face with Doctor Gerard Holden, professor of microbiology at Georgetown, and the man looks shocked for a moment before steeling his expression and saying over Parker's shoulder, "Dr. [L/N], do you have a minute to talk?"

You smile and nod, before addressing Parker again. "Parker, I want to see that essay on my desk in a week and a half at the most. I hope to see some improvement."

Parker doesn't turn around but he nods and slides out of your office as quickly as he can without touching Dr. Holden. When Parker leaves, the older man walks into your office and closes the door behind him.

"That boy is very strange. I don't know how you put up with him. I've had to kick him out of class before for being disruptive and talking out of turn," he says and you sigh.

"He's a good kid and an even better student. I bet if you pushed him a little more, and actually called on him in class, he wouldn't interrupt so much," you say and the doctor in front of you is pale. "But, I hope you didn't come here to discuss our students."

The man shakes his head and goes into a lengthy question about having you guest lecture during one of his classes. You agree quickly and get the time and date and what you'll be covering before Dr. Holden opens the door to your office.

You see Parker standing on the other side of the door, and you know he heard everything you and Dr. Holden discussed about him.

"They do not love that do not show their love." –The two Gentlemen of Verona

It's a Saturday. You and Spencer are sitting in your apartment reading. Spencer's stack next to him is significantly smaller than yours, and whenever he finishes a book, he places it on your stack. Whenever you finish yours, you place your book on the ground and pick up whatever book Spencer just finished reading.

It's nice.

"If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die." –Twelfth Night

"Come on! I don't want us to miss this!" Spencer exclaims, grabbing your hand, and pulling you along as he runs through the small park.

"Wait! Spencer! I didn't know we were running! I would have brought my inhaler!" you exclaim as you try and keep pace.

Spencer doesn't stop though as he says, "It's not far, now come on!" The two of you continue to run through the trees, and eventually you come upon a clearing. There are a few couples there, but not actually as many as you would have expected. The thing that shocks you the most are the group of college age students all standing around with boxes in their hands.

"Spencer what-"

"Shh!"

You step closer to him, still holding his hand as the students all step up, and take the tops off the boxes. Light start flying out of the uncovered cardboard boxes and you realize that they're lightning bugs.

You gasp as a swarm flies towards you before dispersing into a hazy cloud of blinking yellow and green emanating from the lower abdomen. You reach out and the bugs fly away from your hand in streaks of light and you laugh. You turn, grinning at Spencer's face. He's looking right at you.

In the low glow, you can see Spencer's handsome features on display. His cheekbones are softer in the light, his auburn hair a deep brown and his hazel eyes reflecting spots of green back at you. You reach up and place a hand on his cheek. He looks beautiful.

"What is this?" you ask, breathless.

He smiles softly and you look down at his lips. They look inviting. "The biology majors at Howard under Professor Trudy study fireflies for a semester before releasing them here. Did you know that many fireflies do not produce light? Usually these species are diurnal, or day-flying, such as those in the genus Ellychnia. A few diurnal fireflies that inhabit primarily shadowy places, such as beneath tall plants or trees, are luminescent. One such genus is Lucidota. Non-bioluminescent fireflies use pheromones to signal mates. This is supported by the fact that some basal groups do not show bioluminescence and use chemical signaling, instead. Phosphaenus hemipterus has photic organs, yet is a diurnal firefly and displays large antennae and small eyes. These traits strongly suggest pheromones are used for sexual selection, while photic organs are used for warning signals."

You're silent for a minute before you say, "You said firefly."

Spencer frowns. "Huh?"

"You said firefly. People around here say 'Lightning bug,' which means you're not from around here. Where are you from?" you ask, and his frown subsides.

"Las Vegas," he says and you smile.

"You're a long way from home," you reply, looking around at the lightning bugs floating lazily around you, taking in their new environment. You look back at him and say, "I'm glad you're here Spencer. I'm glad I ran into you at the book shop. Literally," you say, laughing lightly.

"Me too," Spencer says with a small smile on his face.

You lean up and kiss him, quickly, before pulling back, not really giving him a chance to react. He stares at you, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, before leaning in and capturing his lips in yours again. You lean against him, turning so your front is pressed against his, he places his hands on your hips and you thread yours through his hair and rest them on the back of his neck.

When you pull away, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, but you're so lost in Spencer's eyes you hardly notice.

"I am not bound to please thee with my answers." –The Merchant of Venice

You jump as someone hits their bowl a little too hard with their spoon, causing a loud crashing noise it seems like only you can hear. You can feel your heart rate picking up as another person accidentally drops a glass on the floor, shattering it. Your eyes dart around as people talk loudly over one another, shouting to be heard over the low din of the restaurant.

"[Y/N]!"

You look up at Spencer sharply, your eyes going wide.

"Are you okay?" he asks, reaching a hand out. You nod but don't take his hand, instead picking at your nails underneath the table. "I was just talking about the underlying effects of corsetry in the modern era…" Spencer continues as if nothing is wrong but another loud crash causes you to jump and lose focus from him again.

You hear Spencer sigh and you look up at him, your cheeks flaming up. "Sorry…" you mutter.

"What's wrong?" he asks plainly.

"I-" you begin to say, but flinch as someone laughs loudly at a table nearby you. "I don't really like restaurants. They're too… loud."

Spencer looks at you with that blank stare for a moment before sighing in what you hope is of relief. "Same here. A co-worker of mine suggested I take you out to dinner and when I told him I don't like restaurants either, he just said you would," Spencer explains.

You frown. "Who did he think I was? We read books in your apartment all the time!"

Spencer looks away sheepishly and pulls his hands into his lap. "I haven't used pronouns for you, so he assumed you were a woman."

You snort. "Wouldn't be the first time." Spencer frowns at you. "I've dated a lot of bisexual men with straight colleagues. The co-workers always assume I'm a woman."

Spencer nods, and the two of you are silent once again in the loud restaurant. You flinch once more as something crashes together, and Spencer sighs.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" he asks, almost begging.

You nod enthusiastically. "Yes. Please. We can go back to mine?" Your eyes widen at that. "Not for sex!" you exclaim and a few people look over at you. You blush in embarrassment and say, quieter, "I-I just meant to read or watch a documentary or something. I didn't mean to imply."

Spencer smiles softly. "It's okay. I didn't even realize. I'm not sexually attracted to people."

Your eyes widen and you grin. "Me neither!"

Spencer grins with you and the two of you hastily pay and make a quick exit out of the busy restaurant.

"God hath given you one face, and you make yourself another." –Hamlet

"Mr. [L/N]?"

You jump and look up from your work and see Parker standing in your office. You put a hand over your heart and laugh. "Parker! You scared me!"

"Sorry…" he says, not making eye contact.

You chuckle as you say, "I should put a bell on you…" you see Parker flush a deep red but you ignore it. "So, what can I do you for?"

Silently, still red and blushing, Parker pulls out a stapled stack of papers from his backpack and holds it out to you. You take it and see it's the revised version of his essay you failed last week.

"I did want you asked…" he says quietly and you quickly look over the first page.

You smile up at him, grateful. "Thank you, Parker. I'll get it back to you by the end of the week-"

"NO!" he shouts and you jump at that.

"Parker, I have a lot of work to do and-"

But he cuts you off again, shouting, "No! Get it done now!"

You sigh, knowing he's not going to relent, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. "Okay. How about this. How many classes do you have left today?"

"Two…" Parker says, and you almost miss it seeing as he's so quiet.

You nod. "Okay. How about I work on it while you're in class and you can come back after."

Parker nods and without another word, leaves your office. You sigh loudly and lean your head into your hands.

"I must be cruel only to be kind; Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind." –Hamlet

That night, you're sitting in Spencer's apartment, his head in your lap as you both read. You can't help but think of Parker, of hearing him yell for the first time since you met him. The boy was always so quiet, except in class where he was engaged and able to answer every question, even if his answers were a little all over the place.

"[Y/N]?" You hear Spencer ask and you look down at him, dazed.

"Huh?"

"You haven't even looked at your book for six minutes and twenty-seven seconds," Spencer says and you frown. You put your book face down next to you on the side table and rub your hands over your face. You feel hands at your wrists, and they tug slightly, pulling your hands away from your face. "What's going on?"

"Just a student of mine yelled at me today," you say. Spencer frowns and you lean down, kissing where his brow was furrowed. "It's okay. I've just never seen him even raise his voice above a whisper besides when we're in class. And even then he doesn't yell." You pause, and sit back up. Spencer sits up as well and lets go of your wrists, leaning into your side. "A lot of the students and faculty don't like him because he's disruptive in class, but I know he's a good student. He's driven and knows a lot. He just needs to be pushed in the right way." You sigh again and lean over to rest your head on Spencer's shoulder. "I told him that I would finish editing his essay by the end of the week but he yelled at me, telling me to finish it right then and there. I told him I would finish it by the end of the day. I knew he wasn't going to stop asking, so I made a compromise I thought he could live with."

You look up at Spencer's face and see him frowning. "How long has he been like this with you?"

You let out a huff of humorless laughter. "What, you jealous?" you ask, joking.

Some of the tension eases from Spencer's face but he doesn't stop frowning.

"No, I'm not jealous. I'm just cautious." He looks into your eyes as he says, "You should be too."

You sigh and lean down, kissing him. "I know. I will be. I just don't want to push him away. I think I'm the only friendly face he has around campus…"

Spencer nods, and opens his mouth as if to say something, but he closes it, and the two of you spend the rest of your evening in silence, unanswered questions lingering in the air between you.

"Go wisely and slowly. Those who rush stumble and fall." –Romeo and Juliet

"You okay?" you ask Spencer one night while you're sitting on your bed together, watching something on your laptop. Tonight you were trying to get him into Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but he seemed more distracted than normal.

He looks up at you, a glazed look in his eyes before sighing. "The case we finished today? It was a stalker case. This man was in love with this woman and we had to make her tell him she was in love with him to get him to let his guard down," Spencer explains and you turn to face him, not saying anything. "We shot him. In the end. He died while the woman was sobbing into her husband's arms." You reach out and place a hand near Spencer, not touching him. He reaches out and takes your hand, kissing it. "I just keep thinking about how she'll never feel safe around another man again."

"You did what you could and you saved her life, Spencer," you say quietly and he looks at you sadly. "I'm so proud of you."

"But what about the people we can't save?"

You sigh and kiss Spencer lightly. "You can't think about that. Think about the families you saved, the women, the children. You saved a life! That's amazing, Spencer."

Spencer smiles and nods but he doesn't look convinced. You just kiss him again and go back to watching Buffy.

"<i>For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?</i>" –Much Ado About Nothing

You startle as a knock sounds at your door. You aren't expecting visitors. Spencer's out with work, and he said not to expect him back for a few days. It's only been two, and he can't have caught the guy that quickly already.

But when you open your door, Spencer is standing there, his eyes puffy and red, and before you can ask any questions, he's pushing himself into your arms. You stumble back and close the door before sinking to the floor, letting Spencer cry into your arms.

"Love comforteth like sunshine after rain, But Lust's effect is tempest after sun. Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain; Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done. Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies; Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies." –Venus and Adonis

"I love you," you say one evening while you're sitting on the couch, Spencer's head in your lap. You're running your fingers through his hair as you say this, making it fan out around his head like a halo of auburn curls.

He cracks an eye open at you and smiles. "Really?"

You roll your eyes. "Yes. I do. And I just thought I should say it," you say, and Spencer sits up, leaning in to kiss you. You put your hands on his cheeks and smile into the soft kiss.

He pulls away and says, "I want you to meet my mom."

Your eyes go wide and you open your mouth as if to say something, but nothing comes out. You frown before asking, "When?"

"I have some vacation time saved and we could wait until summer break!" Spencer exclaims, causing your frown to drop. "You're not teaching again until the second half of summer break, so we can see her then."

"I've never been to the west coast before…" you say, trailing off and looking away. Spencer goes to say something but you cut him off with a smile. "But, that's okay. I want to meet her."

Spencer grins and grabs your face, kissing you like his life depends on it. You laugh as he gets up and runs out of the living room, whooping with joy.

"I love you, Spencer Reid!" you shout.

"Love you too!" he shouts back.

"Lovers and madmen have such seething brains Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends." –A Midsummer Night's Dream

It's a week until the end of term, finals right around the corner, and you have been stuck in your office for most of the day. Most of the week actually. You gave your students the last few days off to study for their finals, and to finish their final essays for you while you finished editing the last of their work before you were bombarded with essays and tests.

Your phone rings on your desk, but you turn off the noise, groaning as the red light beeps incessantly. It's been doing that for the past half an hour. You even had to turn your mobile off and shove it into an unused drawer of your desk.

After another five minutes of the light beeping, you pick up your phone.

"WHAT!" you scream into the receiver.

"Uh, Dr. [L/N]?" you hear someone say quietly into the phone.

"You know, I'm very busy right now and I can't handle distractions so if you would just-"

"Someone's shooting up the school."

Your blood runs cold as a knock sounds at your door, and you watch the knob turning. You gulp as the voice on the other end of the line tries to get your attention, but you can't hear them. All you can hear is the creak of your door as it's slowly pushed open.

"Mr. [Y/N]!" You hear someone shout as they enter your office. It's Parker. And he's holding a gun. "I thought I heard you in here! Who are you talking to?"

You go to answer, but the words die in your throat.

"I- I don't actually know. They-they were calling to tell me about you," you say finally, hanging up the phone as the person yells on the other side of the line.

Parker closes your door and walks over to your desk with a happy smile on his face. "I came to get you, [Y/N]," he says, and you force a smile onto your face.

"Really?" you ask, hoping your nervousness doesn't give anything away.

He nods. "It's just you and me now! Forever!"

You gulp, but smile. "Uh huh…"

"The only thing left in our way is that whore who calls himself your boyfriend…" Parker says, and your smile drops.

"Spencer?" you can't help the wavering in your voice as you say his name.

Parker nods and places his hand against his chin. "Yes. Maybe you can call him? I'm sure he's already on his way over here."

You gulp, but nod. You pick up your desk phone and dial Spencer's number from memory. While your memory may not be anywhere close to as good as his, you forced yourself to memorize it in case it was an emergency.

After the first ring, the phone is picked up. "[Y/N]? Are you okay? I've tried calling you for the past twenty minutes and you haven't picked up!" Spencer exclaims on the other end of the line.

You take a deep breath before looking up at Parker, who's smiling expectantly at you. He nods. "Spencer, can you come to my office?"

"I'm outside. Is everything okay?" he asks.

"Tell him to leave his gun and vest outside," Parker whispers and you nod.

"You need to leave your gun and vest outside," you say, your voice shaking with every word.

"Oh!" Parker exclaims and leans forward. "And tell him if he doesn't do all that, I'm going to kill you."

You let out a sob and say into the phone, shaking, "If you don't do what's been asked, he's going to- he's going to kill me, oh!" you exclaim, another sob escaping your lips. You hear Spencer start to say something, but Parker puts a finger down on the plunger and you hear the dial tone in your ear. You slowly take the phone away from your ear and look at it shaking in your grip.

You watch absently as Parker's fingers brush yours, getting you to open your hand, and you let him take the phone, and put it back down on your desk.

You keep staring off into the middle distance, even as Parker's hand rests on your chin. He turns your head and your eyes lock onto his. You can see the simmering rage bubbling underneath the feigned love that he's projecting. It's probably not even conscious. You don't know if a man like him even <i>could</i> fall in love.

You hear a knock at your door and Parker moves away from you, but grabs your arm forcefully. Your hips push into the desk painfully and you let out a small whimper. Parker's hand on your arm relaxes slightly and he pulls you around your desk to stand next to him at his side, his gun pointed at the dark wooden door that is slowly opening.

You see Spencer slowly pushing the door open, his other hand raised to show he's unarmed.

"Stay there," Parker says, holding his gun level at Spencer's chest.

"Okay. Okay," Spencer says, putting his other hand up. "No one needs to get hurt."

Parker shakes his head. "No. No. They do. They're going to come in the way of us!"

Parker looks down at you and you look up at him, wide eyed. "No, they won't. No one can come in between us," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Spencer's right. No one needs to get hurt."

Parker closes his eyes and shakes his head again. "Spencer, Spencer… Why Spencer? Why him? Why not me?"

You grab his arm and say, "It is you, Parker! It will always be you!" you look over at Spencer, asking with your eyes if you're doing a good job, if this is what you should be doing. He gives you a miniscule nod. You remembered from before when you talked about guys like Parker. "I don't love Spencer. I love you."

Your heart breaks as you say this, but you know that Spencer knows it isn't true. Parker's the only one who needs to believe it.

"Say it," he says, before looking over at the man in question, "to him."

You gulp and look at Spencer, leaning more into Parker's side as you say, "Spencer, I don't love you. I never loved you. I'm in love with Parker. Nothing will be able to keep up apart."

"[Y/N]..." Spencer says, heartbreak evident on his face. Either he's a really good actor or he actually believes it. You sincerely hope it's the former.

Parker nods when you look at him, and grins. "Let's get out of here…" he says, holding out his hand. You take it gingerly and he pulls your back to his chest, still holding Spencer at gunpoint. He flicks the gun further into your office, and Spencer moves with his hands up, tears streaming from his face as he moves across from you in the room.

Parker backs up slowly through the room towards the door, his gun still pointed at Spencer. As soon as he steps out into the hallway, you hear the gunshot.

You feel Parker fall behind you, and you run back into your office, falling to the floor, and only then do you start crying. You sob loudly, and when you're pulled into a chest, you only cry harder.

You hear Spencer whispering to you, and you feel his tears on your hair, your neck as he says, "I can't lose you too. I can't. I just can't…"

You pull him closer, pulling your legs to your chest as you sob, "I love you. I love you so much. I didn't mean anything I said!"

"I know," he whispers, kissing your head. "I know."

"I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest." –Much Ado About Nothing

"I've never been to Vegas before!" you exclaim as you get off the plane. "Can we go to any casinos? I've never gambled before!"

Spencer chuckles as he grabs your hand, pulling you through the airport. "We'll see. I've been banned from a few, so I don't know if they'll let me in…" he says, trailing off and you laugh. "Did you know that what most people think of as Las Vegas is actually called Paradise? In the late 1940s, after the second world war was over, the city of Las Vegas actually banned gambling. The rich gamblers in town weren't happy with that so they created a town called Paradise and made gaming legal there. Well, it's not a town, but more like unincorporated land that doesn't follow Las Vegas' laws."

You grin and grab your bag when it comes around. While Spencer was talking, you had gone to the baggage claim and your bag had already been around once. While Spencer was used to traveling light, with only a go bag, you were not.

"I did not know that," you say, leaning up to kiss his cheek as he pulls out towards the exit.

You get the car he rented and you let him drive you to Bennington. He wanted to go back to the hotel for a night before seeing his mom, but you didn't want him to waste any more time. You would freshen up after.

You and Spencer are ushered through the sterilized, but still personable, halls of the sanitarium, and into a large room with a couple of other people in it. You see a blonde, short haired woman sitting on a couch and Spencer starts walking over to her.

When she sees him, her face lights up and she exclaims, "Spencer!"

"Hey mom," he says, giving her a wave. "I wanted to introduce you to someone."

She turns and looks you up and down, before wringing her hands out and looking at her son. "Is this the man you told me about in your letters?"

Your eyebrows raise at that and you ask Spencer, "You talked to her about me?" he looks at you, nervous, but you smile. "All good things, I hope." He grins and grabs your hand. You turn to Diana and hold out your hand. "Hi. I'm Dr. [Y/N] [L/N]. Spencer's told me so much about you. He really loves you."

She smiles and takes your hand lightly before letting go. "Yes, he's told me a lot about you too. He loves you too," she says, and you smile at him.

"And I love him," you reply.

"Journeys end in lovers' meeting; every wise man's son doth know" –Twelfth Night

#Spencer reid #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x you #spencer read x reader #diana reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #my work #my writing

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sapphireaster · 3 years

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The Heirs was the first ever kdrama that I have watched. And for some reasons, it struck me big time. I don't know, I just love it so dearly. It is literally that show that started it all for me. It was like an avenue that brought me into the kdrama and kpop world.

The Heirs was also the reason that I got to read a lot of fanfics. It really had me yearning for more of the story as I was looking for justice for the small yet mighty ship – YoungSang. And I must say it's amazing to have found out that there are lots of awesome fanfic writers here and there. I've also discovered AO3, AFF, and huh would you believe that it was also the reason why I decided to create a Tumblr account!

Through The Heirs, I also got to know my favorite squad: Lee Minho, Park Shinhye, Kim Woobin, Kang Minhyuk, Krystal, Kang Haneul, Kim Jiwon, and Park Hyungsik. Back in those days, the rest of this squad were not as popular as Minho and Shinhye in terms of acting career. But you see, they're all soaring high now – being the lead actors and actresses in their own individual projects. And when I look back and realize that I've literally been there with them as their names became bigger and bigger, I feel like a proud friend. It makes me emotional.

I guess it really is safe to say that The Heirs really became a huge chunk of who I am today.

Earlier, I've witnessed one person from my favorite squad getting married.

It feels surreal.

Hearing Lee Hongki sing one of The Heirs OST amplified all these emotions.

Look at that, Kim Tan-nim attending our Eunsang's wedding. I would have gone crazy if Choi Youngdo was there too.

As I was scrolling through more photos from the wedding, I came across old photos from The Heirs and for some reasons, there were tears in my eyes.

It's been 8 years now, but the squad and that show still holds a very special place in my heart.

And I don't think that would ever change. So I am here to see all of them reach their individual milestones in life.

Today all our ships might have completely sunk, but our heroine has finally found her real anchor. It's not a midsummer night's dream anymore, our Eunsang, as it was not the Prince on a white horse nor the Black Knight that was holding your hand. Be happy always.

#the heirs #the inheritors #kim tan #cha eun sang #choi young do #kim tan x cha eun sang #youngsang #choi young do x cha eun sang #lee min ho #park shin hye #kim woo bin #park shin hye wedding #choi tae joon #park shin hye x choi tae joon #park shin hye and choi tae joon wedding

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dakotacrisis · 3 years

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Adrien’s Sick Day

(This dumb idea would not let me sleep. Adrien gets sick but refuses to miss school so chugs a bottle of Nyquil but starts crashing when he gets to school. Shoots back an energy drink to keep awake. Disassociates so hard he comes to with a new fencing trophy and a girlfriend.)

---

Adrien was sick. He never got sick easy but he was sicker than a dog today. His temperature was through the roof and the only medicine in the house was a bottle of Nyquil.

“Sounds like an easy day in.” Plagg said. “Chug it down and let’s get back to bed.”

Adrien shook his head. “I wanna go to school.”

“School?” Plagg rested on top of his head, “Kid, do you really want to attempt class today?”

“I have already missed normal human interaction for the first fifteen years of my life. I am not missing another day!” Adrien chugged down the Nyquil. “Let’s go!”

Despite Plagg’s protests to stay inside Adrien collected his bag and headed to school. He was doing well up until he stepped inside and the medicine really started kicking in. Right...the medicine wasn’t the non-drowsy kind.

“Hey dude,” Nino clapped him on the back to which Adrien almost fell face first into floor. “Dang, what’s wrong with you?”

“Fever. Medicine. Sleepy. Not missing class.” Adrien rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Got any coffee?”

“I have this.” Nino pulled out an energy drink from his bag. “You can have it if you really want it but I think you should just go home.”

“No, I’m fine. Hand it over.” Adrien took the drink and walked with Nino into class.

In the blink of an eye Adrien was no longer in class but back home in his room holding a half empty cup of boba. “What the...” Adrien looked around. “How did I...”

The sun was further down in the sky so it must be later. Oh god, where did he put his phone? On his desk was a new fencing trophy he didn’t remember earning. Hanging off the trophy’s miniature epee was the lucky charm Marinette had lent him.

This was strange. He checked the clock on his computer and was surprised to see that it was five in the evening. What had happened all day? He couldn’t remember a thing.

The sound of his phone ringing with a notification caught his attention. He rummaged around in his bag and pulled it out. The background on his phone had changed too. Instead of the picture of him and Nino it was him in his fencing uniform holding a trophy in one hand and his other arm wrapped around Marinette who was kissing his cheek.

Okay. What the heck happened today?

He went to his contacts and hit Nino’s number. Hopefully he could shed some light on this situation.

“Hey bro, what’s up?” Nino shouted over the roar of a crowd in the background, “You change your mind and want to come out to the party?”

“Party?” Adrien asked. “What party?”

“Well I guess it is turning more into a festival. I know Marinette said you should go home and rest but you sound a lot better. We’re currently out under the Eiffel Tower if you wanna stop by.”

“What festival? What’s going on?” Adrien couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was saying. He was fairly certain there wasn’t any parties or holidays today.

“Sorry dude, I can’t hear you.” Nino shouted over the noise, “Eiffel Tower! Come out! Have some fun!”

He hung up and Adrien was back at square one but with even more questions. Maybe there were some clues in his phone. He checked his pictures and saw that there were more pictures he had taken today. The picture he had set as his background was there. There was a group shot with the guys who held Adrien up on their shoulders. Those were taken around four.

Adrien checked his calendar and saw that he did have a fencing tournament today at three. So that’s where he must have been for that hour. And he ended up placing first while zonked out on cold medicine. Adrien wasn’t sure what to make of that. Either his opponents weren’t that great or he is just an amazing fencer when he’s blacked out. Neither sat right with him.

That’s still leaves the seven hours from school and the hour between when he won the tournament and when he got home. Wait! Plagg! Plagg was by his side the entire time! He’d know!

“Plagg!” Adrien called, “Plagg! Where are you?”

“Ugh, you said I could relax.” Plagg’s voice came from the cheese cabinet. Adrien opened it and saw Plagg nesting atop a large wheel of camembert. “Haven’t we done enough today?”

“Plagg, I don’t remember what happened today. You have to fill me in.”

“Seriously?” PLagg laughed, “You don’t remember a thing?”

“No! And it’s creeping me out!” Adrien pulled him out of the cabinet. “Please tell me what I did.”

“Well I don’t really know.”

“How do you not know? You hide in my bag all day!”

“I sleep in your bag all day. I only woke up for the akuma.”

“Akuma? When was there an akuma?”

“A bunch of akumas. We had another Scarlet Akuma pandemic going on before you ran off to go fencing. You and Ladybug were really struggling for a while there until your doppelgangers showed up. Something happened after the akumas got purified but I was tired and bored at that point and stopped paying attention.”

“No! Plagg, I need to know what happened! And what do you mean by doppelgangers?”

“Oh right, bunny girl brought future you and Ladybug back in time to help with the akumas.”

“My future self! Future Ladybug?!” Adrien was going to throw himself off a building. He had completely missed meeting his future self and seeing what Ladybug looked like grown up. She could have only gotten more beautiful.

“Yeah, it was trippy.” Plagg said. “That’s all I remember though. After you transformed back you had to go to fencing and I stayed in your locker resting.”

“So you don’t know anything else? Not even about this?” Adrien showed him the picture of Marinette kissing him.

“Awe, finally got that girlfriend of yours I see. But no. No idea.”

“You’re awfully helpful.” Adrien sighed. He needed answers. He wasn’t gonna be able to focus until he filled in the blanks from today. He got online and started combing through the footage from the akuma attack. Plagg wasn’t kidding. This was the most akumas Adrien had ever seen. It looked as if half of Paris had been infected.

Him, Ladybug, and some of the other heroes were fighting against them but losing ground fast. A shining portal opened up and...holy crap. It really was his future self walking alongside a grown up Ladybug. Bunnix also joined them. The footage sped by as the heroes, future and present fought side by side. Adrien had always thought that he and Ladybug were a well oiled machine but seeing their future counterparts fight made them look like fish flopping on a deck. It was as if they were thinking about each other’s moves five steps ahead.

There was an eruption of white butterflies as the akumas were purified. The people cheered. Future Chat grabbed Future Ladybug and spun her in the air in victory. And then...oh…present Ladybug grabbed present Chat and kissed him. Seriously?! Another kiss he couldn’t remember!

“PLAGG!” Adrien shouted, “YOU SAID NOTHING ELSE HAPPENED!”

“Nothing did!” Plagg shouted back.

“LADYBUG KISSED ME! THAT’S NOT NOTHING TO ME!”

“How is this any different then the other times she kissed you and you forgot?”

“Y’know what--!”

“Can’t hear you. Napping.” Plagg started snoring loudly.

Adrien sighed. He turned his attention back to the screen.

There was only more cheering as the two kissed. Wait. So he kissed Ladybug and Ladybug kissed him back and they both remember so why had Marinette been kissing him in his fencing picture? Once again, more questions.

The future miraculous holders went back through the portal. His present self and Ladybug waved to the crowd then vaulted out of frame. According to the akuma report online that was from 12:40 to 2:55. Another two hours accounted for. Yet it was the minutes in between that seemed to hold all the answers.

Adrien grabbed his school bag and dumped it out looking for more answers. There had to be something else. All of it looked pretty normal. Books, homework assignments, a couple empty containers of camembert, and a few loose papers. He picked up one and saw it was an excerpt of a script. A Midsummer Night’s Dream? What was this doing in his bag? They were supposed to start their Shakespeare period in literature class so it wasn’t so out of place.

The assignment was to recreate a scene from one of Shakespeare’s plays. At the top of the page was Adrien’s name as well as Marinette’s. He guessed they must have gotten partnered up. Maybe he should try calling her to figure out what was going on.

He picked up his phone and searched for Marinette’s contact, her name in his phone had been changed to Girlfriend with a bunch of sparkly hearts around it. So apparently she was his girlfriend now, according to his phone at least. He called her but the call went to voicemail. Okay, maybe Alya knows. He called her next and was relieved when she answered.

“Hey lover boy!” Alya was shouting over the same crowd as Nino had been, “Nino said you called. Feeling better already?”

“Alya, you have to tell me what I did today.”

“What?”

“What did I do while I was at school? I can’t remember.”

“How do you not remember?”

“I was zonked out on cold medicine! I don’t even know how I got home let alone how I won a fencing trophy and got a girlfriend in the past few hours.”

“Wow. Just...wow. I knew you were kinda loopy today but I figured you’d remember confessing to Marinette. Girl was over the moon.”

The memories tickled right in the back of Adrien’s brain but he just couldn’t get to them. They had been washed away in a tidal wave of medicine and energy drink. He needed answers. He needed to talk to Marinette. “Are you all still by the Eiffel Tower?” Adrien asked.

“Yeah, you coming out?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there in a few.” Adrien hung up and grabbed his coat. He felt much better physically than he had that morning which was nice. The walk to the Eiffel Tower gave him plenty of time to think about what it was he was missing. There was a significant piece of the puzzle missing, the one piece that would make the rest of the day make sense. If only he could figure out what it was!

He found his friends and everyone cheered when they saw him and pulled him into their circle. Standing with Alya was Marinette. Face alight with a smile and laughing. She turned when she felt Adrien’s eyes on her and her smile grew.

“Hey, I thought I told you to go home and rest. Or was it that you didn’t want to miss out on all the fun?” She grabbed his hands, “I suppose I’ll let it go this time seeing as how today was very taxing and we could do with some fun after that Scarlet Moth fiasco.”

“Yeah, about that,” Adrien said, “Can we talk somewhere a little quieter?”

“Sure,” She pulled on his hands as she led him away from the group. Their classmates whistled and teased as the couple left. When they were far enough away from the noise and people Marinette spoke to him, “What is it you want to talk about?”

“Right um…” Adrien felt heat climbing up his neck, “So I was kinda really sick this morning and I took a bunch of drowsy cold-medicine that I tried to counteract with an energy drink and now I don’t remember anything that happened today. Nothing whatsoever.”

Marinette stared at him, her wide, unblinking baby blue eyes piercing through his skull. “Are you joking?”

“No. I swear I am not. I’ve put together some of what happened but there are some things that I don’t understand like how um, you know, how you and I…” He looked down at his feet, mortified that he had to have this conversation with her. He felt like he was breaking her heart or something.

“You dumb kitty.” Marinette bonked the top of his head, “That explains a lot actually. I’ve always known you to be kinda spacey but today was something else. How is it that when you’re out of it you can still function as a human being?”

“Marinette?” Adrien looked up at her, “What did you call me?”

Marinette sighed and motioned for him to sit down on the bench. “Alright, so this morning when class started…”

*Earlier that day*

“Did that help at all?” Nino asked Adrien as they sat down for class.

“I guess we’ll see,” Adrien almost missed his seat when he went to sit down, “So far it is a rousing success!”

“I really think you should just go home, dude.” Nino shook his head. “I think the caffeine just made this worse.”

“Nah!” Adrien corrected himself and slid himself into his seat, “I am fine! Look how fine I am! I am super fine!”

“Sure are.” Nino snickered, he couldn’t help it. His best friend was essentially high as a kite right now.

Everyone took their seats as Ms. Bustier began the lesson. “For this unit we will be focusing on William Shakespeare. I figured we’d start off with something fun so I want everyone to get into pairs or small groups and perform a scene from any Shakespeare play you would like. Group up and figure out what you’re performing in class today. Go over your lines and we’ll do the actual performances tomorrow. Try not to do really long ones. Have fun!”

Immediately everyone around the room started pairing off. ��Hey Adrien,” Alya grabbed his attention, “How’s about you and Marinette team up? You would make a wonderful Romeo and Juliet.”

“But I wanted us to do Romeo and Juliet, babe.” Nino pouted.

“That’s fine, Alya. You two can have Romeo and Juliet.” Marinette told her, her face tinted a cute pink. “Adrien and I can do something else.”

“Hernia!” Adrien shouted, “You can be Hernia and I’ll be Lightsaber!”

“What?” The other three teenagers stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You know, that play, the one with the donkey head?” Adrien mimicked large donkey ears on his head.

“Oh! I got it!” Marinette said, “A Midsummer Night’s Dream. You want us to be Hermia and Lysander.”

“Yeah! Those two!” Adrien nodded, “Hernia and Lightsaber.”

“Adrien, sweetie,” Alya looked at him with an amused smile, “Their names are Hermia and Lysander. Not Hernia and Lightsaber.”

“Got it. Got it.” Adrien continued nodding so hard he looked like a bobblehead. “We can be them.”

“Alright, I’ll find us a scene to do.” Marinette started looking for a good scene. They eventually agreed to do the opening scene when Hermia and Lysander plan to runaway together. Marinette was being super giggly through the reading which made Adrien start laughing which made her giggle more until they were in a perpetual loop of laughter.

When class ended everyone got up to move onto the next class. Nino and Alya went on ahead leaving Marinette and Adrien alone still chuckling over their inability to be serious during their scene.

“It may be the fact that I was laughing through the whole thing but I have to confess that I have no idea what Lysander was saying.” Adrien squinted at the text before shoving it in his bag. “Did you?”

“It’s pretty simple actually,” Marinette said, “The couple are lamenting that none of Hermia’s choices that she was given from Theseus let her be with Lysander. Lysander though figures that they don’t have to follow their rules and talks Hermia into leaving Athens with him and getting married where the Athenian laws don’t apply.”

“I wish I could do that.” Adrien sighed.

“Do what?”

“Runaway with the love of my life. I have this whole plan with an island and a hamster but I know you’d never go with me.” He slumped, looking utterly defeated. “Why don’t you wanna go with me?”

“Love--love--love--love of your what? Runaway? Me and you? To an island? With hamsters!” Marinette was stammering as she tried to piece together what it was Adrien had just confessed to her. Was this really happening?

“Oh wait,” Adrien frowned, “I meant my lady.”

“Huh?”

“Ladybug is so pretty…” Adrien murmured dreamily, “She’s so awesome but she only sees me as a tomcat which--just--boo! I love her! Why doesn’t she see that? My spotty lady! Buggy boo! I love her spots and her eyes and her pigtails…”

His green eyes turned to Marinette and batted a hand against Marinette’s hair. “Just like your pigtails.” He muttered, “You remind me a lot of Ladybug. You can be my Maribug!”

Tomcat? In love with Ladybug? No...there was no way. Surely someone like Adrien couldn’t also be her dorky partner in crime fighting.

“Hey Adrien,” Marinette smiled nervously, “Why do you think that Ladybug thinks you’re a tomcat?”

“Because I am a cat!” He stated proudly. Then his expression soured. “Or as Ladybug says, I’m a bad kitty that needs to stop flirting with her cause they’re working and she likes someone else. It’s sad that she likes someone else. I wish she could like me…”

Yep. Definitely Chat Noir. Although Marinette had never called him a bad kitty before. Chastised him for flirting an inappropriate moments? Yes. But she never berated him. She’d have to have a talk to him later as Ladybug.

WAIT! Chat Noir is Adrien! Adrien is Chat Noir! The love of her life is also her partner! Holy crap! Holy crap! Holy! Crap! Calm down, Marinette! More important things to focus on right now!

She looked over at Adrien who was still pouting like a sad little kitten. She put an arm around his shoulders. “Well I got some good news for you, kitty. I know who Ladybug is really in love with.”

“Really?!” Adrien looked at her with stars in her eyes, “Who? I’m gonna whoop their butt if they mistreat her!”

“Ladybug has a crush on Adrien Agreste.”

“Boo! He sucks!”

“Dummy, Adrien is you. Ladybug likes you.”

“Oh...SHE DOES?!” He nearly screamed and Marinette clamped a hand over his mouth. He moved his head away from her, gaping at the information. “How do you know that?”

“Because that’s who I have a crush on.” Marinette’s cheeks felt entirely too warm. When she looked at Adrien there was absolutely nothing going on behind those big green eyes of his.

“Adrien?” She waved a hand in front of his face? “Goodness, you silly kitty, you are really out of it, huh? Give it a moment. It’ll come to you.”

Marinette started counting in her head. She got to one hundred and seventeen before Adrien finally perked up like a meerkat. “Ladybug?!” He pointed at her.

“There it is.” She ruffled his hair, “I’m guessing you’re happy?”

“I--I--”

BANG!

*Present*

“Then that’s when Scarlet Moth and all the other akumas hit and we went to got fight them. Our future selves showed up to help kick some butt. We kissed. Then we went back to school so you could get to your fencing tournament. You won. You looked pretty tired so I walked you home after but you insisted we stop for boba first so we kinda went on an impromptu boba date. Got you home then I came out to celebrate with everyone about today’s akuma win.” Marinette finished, “Did that fill you in well enough?”

“So you are…”

“Yep.”

“And you like me?”

“Also yep.”

“And I somehow managed to do all this while disassociating to the point of amnesia?”

“Apparently so.”

“I am never mixing Nyquil and Red Bull again.”

“Turned out okay in the end though, right?” Marinette flashed him a bright smile.

As all the information settled within him Adrien smiled back and kissed her. She squeaked for a second not expecting it but eagerly kissed him back. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She giggled. She stood up and pulled him to his feet. “Come on, kitty, let’s go have some fun.”

*The next day*

“Hey bugaboo,” Adrien entered her room holding a hot cup of tea, “Sorry for getting you sick. Probably wasn’t a good idea to have kissed you so many times while I had a cold.”

Marinette blew her nose. “Worth it.”

#baby boy just wants to go to school #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrinette #writing

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whereisten · 4 years

Text

I Think We’re Alone Now

A Jaemin fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: Your Spring Break plans change at the last minute when the campus heartthrob asks you to join him and the popular kids to your nemesis’ cabin.

Pairing: college student! Jaemin x female reader

Genre: romance, angst, mystery, suspense, horror, crime

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: Bullying, body image mention, gore, violence, death

(A/N): SHOUTOUT TO MY GIRL KRYS FOR THIS DELICIOUS MOODBOARD. SHE IS AN AMAZING ARTISTE. I AM IN AWE. I hope my story does this moodboard justice and I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you for the support!

___

Spring Break was imminent for the kids of Guang University. It was your freshman year and your friends all had different plans. You planned to stay home and get a head start on your homework and catch up on all of your favorite Korean dramas.

You headed out of the school with Haechan, your best friend. He had plans to go visit his family in South Korea for a couple of days. You were bummed that your closest friend wouldn’t be in town for the break.

“You sure you don’t want to come to Seoul with me? We might bump into Ji Chang Wook. You never know.” Ji Chang Wook was your celebrity crush.

You balanced your giant biology textbook while you tried to find your phone. “That’s tempting but I have a big exam right after break and I’ve been behind for weeks...So now I have to cram.”

Haechan sighed. “Y/n, you need to give yourself some down time.”

You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Haechan sighed. “You haven’t come out to any parties in the past two months.”

You sighed. “Well...”

Haechan whined. “You’re supposed to be my party buddy...”

“Well, party buddy, then explain Daniela, Hazel, and Ally,” you said, calling out your best friend for not being so lonely at these parties after all.

“I-“ Haechan started.

Before Haechan could explain, a group of girls you’d tried so hard to avoid walked by and “accidentally” bumped into you, making you drop your book to the ground.

The girl who bumped into you turned and laughed. “I’m SO sorry. Maybe if you didn’t take up so much space, it wouldn’t have happened.”

The other girls laughed as they began to saunter off.

You groaned. You thought bullies retired once they graduated from high school when reality finally gave them a slap to the face.

Well, unfortunately for you, the mean girls from your old high school were smart enough to get into your dream school so you now occasionally saw them. And worse, shared a biology lab with them. The head of the pack, Heather, always had it out for you for always beating her for the best grade in class. You’d get a 94 and she’d get a 93. You were just happy to get an A and she was furious she wasn’t number 1. You guessed it had to do with her superiority complex and how she had to please her wealthy parents.

Haechan yelled, “Heather, what the hell-“

Heather started, “What? It’s a simple observation.”

Well, not everyone could be a size 0 like Heather. You knew that you had a healthy body shape. Sure, you know you could use improvements but you were human. No one was perfect. Nothing Heather could say could make you think she was right. She was just a hater.

“Have a nice break, Heather. Maybe your dad will finally come home,” you said as you grabbed Haechan’s hand and walked off.

“Hey! y/n, get back here!” Heather demanded. Her dad and her mom were separated for a while now and he was never home to spend time with his precious daughter.

Heather’s bark had always been bigger than her bite. So you didn’t let her words get to you. Not anymore.

___

Haechan went home while you waited to call an Uber to take you to the record store across town. You may as well go out and do one fun thing before you hunkered down at home for the break.

That was when you heard someone sobbing hard. And you couldn’t help but find the source.

The boy sat down on a bench by the bus stop. It was the campus heartthrob, Na Jaemin. You’d shared a couple of lectures with him this year. He was very sweet, always had something to compliment you on. Your hair, your lipstick, your outfit.

Well, then he would proceed to ask for help with assignments but you appreciated getting paid with flattery.

You frowned. “A-are you okay?” You started. “Do you need help?”

Jaemin looked up as tears ran down his beautifully sculpted face. His eyes widened at the sight of you. He wiped his tears away with his jacket sleeve. He shook his head. “Y/n! Hey, I’m…okay…I just-“

You sat down beside him and pulled an unopened bottle of water out of your backpack. You handed it to him. “Here.”

He looked down at it and asked, “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you,” he said, managing a half-smile.

He drank from it as you waited.

He exhaled in satisfaction. “Thank you, y/n. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like this. School and work have been so stressful…I just needed to let it all out.”

You hesitated before you put a hand on his back. You moved it gently against his muscular upper back. “I’m sorry…Do you…wanna talk about it?”

Jaemin froze and debated telling you. “I got fired from my job…” He admitted.

You removed your hand from his back. “Jaemin, that’s terrible…I’m so sorry…What happened?”

He shook his head. “The boss was kinda harsh. I couldn’t take it. I slipped up once and I got the ax.”

You tried to meet his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Jaemin.”

Jaemin managed a smile for you. “Thank you, y/n. You’re always sweet. Always good. I’m glad you’re here with me.” He placed a hand over yours.

This may or may not have made you want to scream with excitement. But your better judgment told you to contain yourself because Jaemin was upset.

Your little moment was interrupted by Heather and her cohorts.

Heather stood in front of Jaemin, noticing his red eyes “Oh, Nana, what’s wrong?”

Jaemin didn’t look all that thrilled to see Heather either. “It’s nothing…Don’t worry about it.”

“Because if y/n is bothering you, she should leave. Isn’t that right, y/n?” Heather turned to you with her hands on her hips.

You were about to snap when Jaemin beat you to it. “Actually, Heather, she’s not. So what can I do for you so you can leave faster?”

Heather looked at her group in shock. Her minions all let out audible gasps and whispers. “Jaemin...”

“I’m waiting,” Jaemin said, a new commanding tone overtaking him.

“We wanted to know if you’re coming to my cabin this weekend.” She tried to come off flirtatious but after his rebuff, she was confused.

“Maybe,” Jaemin replied, “If y/n comes.”

“What?” You and Heather exclaimed.

“I’ll go if y/n goes,” Jaemin said resolutely.

You started, “Jaemin, I-”

Jaemin interrupted. “I need this, y/n. A time to get away. And if you come, I would love it…” He said softly, almost intimately…Like no one else was around.

You’d had a crush on Jaemin since the first day of Intro to Theater. Jaemin was a tremendous actor. He was an excellent Demetrius to your Helena in your act for A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Jaemin was always so nice. You thought the most he would do for you is give you a dollar for the vending machine. And that would’ve made your heart soar to the moon.

It was odd that you were considering going somewhere to hang out with Heather and her friends...But you did want to get to know Jaemin more.

What about your homework?

Well, it could wait.

And what about Heather?

Well, pissing off Heather was a hobby of yours.

One of Heather’s friends coughed. And Heather rolled her eyes. “Fine. Meet at my house at 7 AM tomorrow.”

___

Your older sister Sophie drove you to Heather’s. “Why are you going to Lucifer's spawn’s cabin?”

You sighed. “Because a cute boy asked me to.”

Sophie put the car in park right in front of Heather’s mansion. She looked at you in disbelief and fascination. “A boy?”

You said, “He wanted me to come.”

Sophie laughed. “Well, y/n, he must be very cute if you’re willing to hang out with Her Royal Darkness.”

“Like her ego, I’m sure the cabin is big enough so I don’t have to see her.”

You were both so distracted that you didn’t notice Jaemin knock on your passenger side window. He smiled brightly. Wow, he looked incredible for someone who woke up and texted you good morning at 5:30 AM.

“Wow,” your sister said, in shock from Jaemin’s beauty. She rolled down your window.

“Ready to go, y/n?” Jaemin asked. You saw the expectant look in his eyes. He was radiant and much more relaxed. You were so happy to see him. He seemed to feel a lot better.

“Jaemin, this is my older sister, Sophie,” you said, “Sophie, this is my friend Jaemin.”

They shook hands and Sophie muttered, “You better tell me everything when you get back. And that I am the maid of honor at your wedding.”

“Bye, Sophie! We’ll go on our run together when I come back on Sunday, okay?” You said louder to deflect from what Jaemin could’ve overheard. You and Sophie ran together every weekend for stress relief and bonding time. You got out of the car and hoped Jaemin hadn’t heard anything.

Jaemin offered to give you a ride on his Jeep Explorer to Heather’s cabin, much to Heather’s disappointment. Heather’s friends were riding with her.

You and Jaemin had fun on the road for two hours, just the two of you. You enjoyed some old school Backstreet Boys, *NSYNC, and Britney Spears. You snagged the CDs from your sister’s collection.

“Every little thing I do never seems enough for you!” You and Jaemin sang.

You too had gotten off the route to get snacks at a convenience store and because Jaemin needed to fill up his tank. He insisted you put your wallet away. He bought all of your favorite junk food essentials: M&Ms, Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, Coke, Orange Fanta. This boy knew his way into your heart.

“So, y/n, what’s your end goal in life?” He asked as he continued the route to Heather’s cabin. “You strike me as an aspiring pediatrician...Saving the children!”

You laughed at his enthusiasm. “I’d like to be a physical therapist. My parents got into a car accident when I was nine...My mom was fine but my dad broke his right leg and right arm. He needed to get physical therapy in order to walk properly again...I went with him to almost all of his appointments. I have a lot of respect for physical therapists after how much they helped him…”

“I’m glad your dad recovered,” Jaemin said as he gave you a quick smile before gluing his eyes back onto the road.

“Me, too...But...my end goal in life? Honestly, I just want my own space to dance around in...With no shame.”

Jaemin chuckled. “No shame, huh? Does that mean you’re a terrible dancer?”

You smacked him. “No. Well, I’m sure there are worse dancers.”

He laughed harder. “Okay...I believe you.”

You laughed. “What about you, Jaemin? What’s your end goal?”

He sighed. “Start up my own content-creating company...I’m into traveling and uncovering hidden gems. Be the next big thing after Buzzfeed Unsolved.”

“Those are some pretty big shoes to fill…” You started.

Jaemin sounded unsure. “Yeah…”

You smiled, “I know you can do it. You’ve got a subscriber in me.”

Jaemin faked a tear. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

You both laughed again as you reached for the M&Ms and your hands touched. You quickly pulled away, embarrassed. But Jaemin smiled to himself.

Jaemin said, “But as cheesy as it sounds...I want to get married, get a big house, and fill it with twelve children.”

You coughed. “Twelve? Are you and your future wife thinking of splitting the pregnancies up?”

Jaemin laughed. “Okay, maybe not twelve...But a family of my own is my dream. My parents split up when I was five so...I’ve split my time between two homes and it was an awkward feeling, especially after both of my parents remarried.”

“Oh…” You said. You couldn’t exactly sympathize with him because your parents were happily married so you didn’t want to say anything that could rub him the wrong way. That was the last thing you wanted.

“I want to be with that one person...For the rest of my life...When I meet her, I’ll know.” He said, giving you a meaningful look.

You had no idea how to process that so you took a sip of your blue raspberry ICEE and held it in the air, awkwardly. “Here’s to you finding your soulmate someday.”

He chuckled. “Thank you.”

___

You arrived at Heather’s summer home...Well, she called it a cabin. But it was actually a mansion by the beach. It was gorgeous. Something straight out of a movie. It looked like it could be its own hotel resort. You realized that there was a good chance you’d have your own room.

“This house is huge!” You exclaimed.

Jaemin looked along with you as he handed you your bag. “What a shame. I was hoping we would room together.” He said softly into your ear.

You turned to him in shock and he shot you his infamous flirty grin. This boy had you thinking he liked you and he’d better stop before you tried to kiss him.

Heather handed everyone keys to their bedrooms. “If any of you lose this copy, I can’t help you.” She made sure to say that as she handed you your keys.

You went up the stairs of the beach house and chose the last room on the left. You were unlocking the door to your room when someone from behind you tapped you on the shoulder.

“Hey, you’re y/n, right?” You recognized Yangyang from your mandatory PE class. You both took Intermediate Swimming, a class where as long as you flailed in the water and passed the easy quizzes, you’d be guaranteed an A.

You nodded. “And you’re…”

He said, “I’m Yangyang. It’s so nice to see you here!”

“You, too,” you said, averting your eyes once again. Yangyang was pretty attractive and you hoped he didn’t remember you and your Sailor Moon one piece. You always tried to be one of the first in the water and the last to leave when it came to your swimming class.

Even though Heather’s comments were nothing to you, it didn’t mean you were completely immune to the hurt it caused.

“You were in Coach Emerson’s swim class, right? You had the iconic Sailor Moon swimsuit.”

And there went the rest of your hopes and dreams. “Y-yeah…”

He laughed. “Don’t be embarrassed. I had Dragon Ball Z swim trunks.”

“Really?” You said.

Yangyang pretended to be hurt and winced. “I thought you’d be the one to notice.”

“Well...I’m not exactly looking at anyone’s...body…” You said, cringing at your words.

He laughed. “Fair point. I just liked the pattern. Your favorite character is Sailor Mars, right?”

You nodded, “Hell yeah. She’s the best.”

“I’m more of a Sailor Venus guy, myself,” he replied.

“Good taste. But all of the Sailor Scouts are queens,” you started.

“No question,” Yangyang said. “Hey, do you-” His phone started to ring. “Sorry, y/n...I gotta take this.”

You waved goodbye to him and entered your spacious bedroom. As much as Heather despised you and you despised her, her family had excellent taste in real estate. The queen-sized bed was plush like a cloud straight from heaven. You pulled the window up to feel the ocean breeze. It was paradise.

You heard a knock at your door an hour later. It was Jaemin.

“Wanna go for a walk?” He asked.

“Sure!” You said, having already changed into a sundress.

Jaemin thought you looked stunning. Well, you always did. He was so happy to be here with you. Otherwise, he may not have gone on this trip.

Jaemin led you to the beach where you let your toes touch the water. He teased you by splashing you. And you splashed him back until you both were soaked.

You both laughed so hard that you toppled over each other, you on top of Jaemin. You both stared at each other for a long time. Jaemin closed his eyes, his long eyelashes caressing his cheeks. He waited for you to kiss him.

You moved closer and your lips met his. His lips tasted salty thanks to you and your merciless splashing. But the kiss was everything. It was fireworks at the end of a perfect night. It was hot chocolate on a warm winter night. It was like an angel held you and you snuggled against his wings. The kiss was perfect.

You two let go and Jaemin bit his lip. “So.”

You stood there, frozen. “So…”

“So...we did that.”

You nodded. “Indeed we did.”

“Thoughts?” He looked at you with his big brown eyes.

You cleared your throat. “Well...I certainly wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

Jaemin’s big gorgeous goofy smile came back full force at hearing you. He cupped your face in his hands and was about to kiss you again.

“Guys!” Naeun called out to you. “Have you seen Yangyang?”

You and Jaemin pulled yourselves apart. You answered, “Last time I saw him was when he went to his room. Is everything okay?”

“He wasn’t answering his phone...And I found it in his room.” She held up his phone that had a Dragon Ball Z pop socket on the back of it.

You frowned. “That’s weird.”

Jaemin offered. “Maybe he went for a walk. Got some fresh air?”

“Maybe…” Naeun thought and you nodded. “If you see him, tell him I’m looking for him and that I’m pissed.”

“Okay,” you said.

Naeun stomped away, frustrated.

“Now where were-” you started.

Jaemin already pulled you in for another kiss. He pinned you down against the shoreline and trailed your neck with his kisses.

You breathed heavily as you held him tightly.

He looked at you, as if asking you something.

You gave him a look. “What’s up?”

“Do you want to…” His eyes moved down to his pelvic region where his member was protruding through the fabric of his trunks.

Your eyes widened at how big he was. And your eyes nearly popped out of your head when you realized what he was asking. “Oh…”

Jaemin waited for you patiently.

Things were moving too fast. You were more than happy to kiss Jaemin all night but you really weren’t ready to have sex. Not tonight, anyway.

You already knew the answer. “I’m sorry Jaemin. I do like you but...I’m...not ready. I should go…” You got up but Jaemin stopped you. It was like a romantic Korean drama scene, except instead of your wrist ...He grabbed your ankle.

“It’s okay...You don’t have to go. Please don’t go…” He begged as he made a puppy dog pout.

You laughed, relieved. “Okay okay...You can stop making that face.”

Jaemin pouted his lips even more. “What face?”

You rolled your eyes and splashed him. You and Jaemin spent a couple of hours on the beach, kissing and talking. You wrapped up and he walked you to your bedroom.

___

You woke up early the next morning to hear screaming and crying. You got out of bed and ran out the door.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, finding Naeun devastated on the floor. Heather sat down with her on the ground and consoled her.

“Yangyang…” She said between sobs. “He’s gone!”

Renjun looked grave as he handed you his phone. “We all got these messages. Did you, y/n?”

You looked at what was on Renjun’s phone screen and there was a video of Yangyang, bound up and gagged. Tears streamed down his eyes. He mumbled loudly for help.

Tears fell out of your eyes. “What the hell is this?”

You couldn’t believe it. You’d just had a whole conversation with him yesterday. He was friendly and funny…

And now he was like this.

Jaemin replied, “Someone’s idea of a sick joke...I don’t recommend looking at the rest of the story, y/n…”

You ignored him and kept watching. The next video pointed to a wall and you could hear Yangyang clearly now...He was yelling. “No! Who are you? Why are you doing this? Stop! Nooooooo!” The video cut off after that. The last picture was of Yangyang with his throat slit with text that read: “Wonder who will be next...It’s anyone’s guess, really. 🧐 #springbreak2020”

You ran into the bathroom and threw up. The rest of the group followed you into the bathroom. “Well, y/n?” Tzuyu started.

“Well, what?” You asked.

“Show us your phone,�� Tzuyu demanded.

“Why?” You asked.

Jaemin intervened, “Why are you guys ganging up on her?”

“We’ve checked everyone’s phones...Now we want to see y/n’s,” Tzuyu said, a vindictive look in her eyes.

“Fine,” you said. You pulled it out of your pocket and you were shocked to find the messages on your phone.

“Someone sent them to her, too. She’s as innocent as the rest of us,” Renjun said.

Tzuyu frowned. “Okay…”

She seemed disappointed that you weren’t the culprit. You wondered why Tzuyu hated you. She was merely one of Heather’s followers so you guessed she would hate anyone Heather hated no matter what.

Still, this didn’t alleviate any of your worries. Someone kidnapped and murdered Yangyang overnight. And whoever that was remained close by.

And they weren’t finished.

Unfortunately for all of you, your cell reception was weak so you couldn’t contact the police. You were on the verge of a panic attack.

Renjun decided, “We should try going to the next town to get reception.”

Tzuyu started, “You are not leaving me here.”

“Fine, we’ll go together.” He said as they both walked off and borrowed Heather’s car.

___

You sat in the living room, scared to be in your room all alone. Hell, you didn’t mind being with Heather and Naeun. Jaemin was making lunch in the kitchen for you guys.

It had been a few hours since Renjun and Tzuyu left. Now you were all getting worried. The next town wasn’t that far off, according to Heather. So something was up.

And you wondered if it had been a good idea for them to leave. Maybe they had been just as much in danger as the rest of you. Whoever the killer was...He had resources to be anywhere at any time. It gave you shivers.

“Y/n, can you get Naeun a glass of water?” Heather asked you.

You nodded and met Jaemin in the kitchen. You asked him once again, “Are you sure I can’t help with anything?”

Jaemin shook his head. “I’ve got this.” He said as he finished making lasagna.

You got a glass of water for Naeun. “Jaemin, I’m scared,” you said.

Jaemin looked rattled up, too, but he seemed to be holding it together for the rest of you. And it meant a lot to you.

The four of you sat down to eat quietly. Naeun barely took a bite of her lasagna.

Not too long after, she started wheezing. Hives broke out onto her skin. “Epi...Pen...Heather.”

Heather jumped out of her seat. “I’ll go get it!”

“Oh God,” you panicked. “You need air! Let’s go outside, Naeun.”

You and Jaemin helped her out to the front door so she can breathe better. You were praying Heather found her EpiPen soon.

Heather returned, upset, “Are you sure it’s in your purse? I couldn’t find it.”

Naeun nodded. “Yes…”

When you realized Naeun’s EpiPen was missing, you ran up to your room and grabbed yours. “I brought mine!”

“Hurry up!” Heather said.

You ran back down and Naeun was able to get the injection she needed to recover from her reaction.

Heather took Naeun up to her room to recover.

“I wonder what Naeun was allergic to…” You said to Jaemin.

Jaemin frowned. “I don’t know...I had no idea she had severe allergies. Maybe it was in one of the ingredients but I’m not sure which one…God, I feel terrible.” He put his face in his hands.

“Hey, it’s okay...It was an accident...She’ll be okay,” you said as you hugged him.

“It was a good thing you had your EpiPen, y/n...You’re amazing…”

“Or I just have severe allergies, too,” you said.

He laughed awkwardly. “Right…”

Even more hours passed. Renjun and Tzuyu haven’t returned. Everyone was antsy.

You and Jaemin were going to go out and look for them but you were shocked to find his tires had been slit recently.

This wasn’t a coincidence. The killer was watching your every move. You wondered if he had gotten to Renjun and Tzuyu. Your throat dried up at just thinking that.

You and Heather grabbed weapons from her father’s shed, which included gardening shears and hunting rifles.

Heather taught you how to handle the rifle. You both went back into the house with your weapons in tow. You all made sure to shut all of the windows and close all of the doors. You scoured the entire property. No one can come in. And no could come out. You hoped there wasn’t some random secret entrance to this house that rich people always seemed to have in the movies. You all reluctantly headed to bed.

You sat up on the edge of your bed. You were comfortable in a concert tee and some shorts. You wanted to wear something that would be easy to run in. Just in case the killer would come for you next.

Jaemin was at your door. “Hey…Heather and Naeun both fell asleep.”

“How can they be asleep...I can’t sleep knowing that that bastard is out there…” You said.

Jaemin walked into the room. “Can I sit with you?”

You nodded. “Jaemin, what are we going to do...We can’t just stay here. We're sitting ducks. Renjun and Tzuyu are just gone...And we don’t know when or even if they're coming back…”

Jaemin rubbed your back in small circles. His touch was distracting. Kissing Jaemin would be a great distraction.

Making love to him would be even better.

That would be ridiculous. The last thing you wanted to do was have sex when a murderer was afoot. That would be a total cliche.

Jaemin replied. “I’m sorry, y/n...I think our best bet is to wait it out until morning and go to the next town on foot.”

You nodded. “Yeah...Maybe daytime will be safer.”

Jaemin nodded. “Why don’t you go to sleep and I’ll take the first shift?”

“Really?” You asked.

“Yeah, I’m wired. I had three cups of coffee in the past hour. You need to rest, y/n.” Jaemin said as he pulled the covers over you. “I’ll come back to wake you. I’ll be on guard.” He grabbed one of the hunting rifles he left outside the door.

“Thank you,” you said as you shut your eyes. Sleep quickly took over.

___

You were quickly shaken awake. “Y/n get the fuck up!” Heather hissed.

“Heather?” You exclaimed.

She shushed you. “Shut up. You need to come with me right now.”

“What’s wrong?” You whispered.

Heather made sure your door was locked before she returned back to you. “Naeun is dead.”

You looked carefully at Heather and had seen that she’d been crying. “What?” You asked. “That’s impossible.”

“We shouldn’t have left her alone. She said she was fine. She seemed fine. I went to check on her and...she wasn’t breathing. And...I think she was smothered, y/n.”

“Wait...Are you saying…”

“The killer is Jaemin,” Heather said.

“What? Why would you say that?” You shook your head.

“Think about it, y/n. None of us has good reception here so how is that we got those texts about Yangyang? The killer had to be in close proximity to us. Tzuyu and Renjun left in my car, which he probably messed with so they got into an accident...And...I don’t even want to say what could’ve happened...Whatever Jaemin put in the lasagna almost killed Naeun. Then, her EpiPen fucking disappeared. And then, conveniently right after, his tires were slit. And now, since he couldn’t finish the job the first time, he smothered Naeun to death.”

“Heather...Jaemin wouldn’t…” You started.

“I know...I had my doubts, too, but...he gave me some calming tea before I went to sleep...When it cooled down, I tested it...It’s been drugged.”

Your heart sank. “How do you know?”

“My dad’s company is working with the nail polish that can track date rape drugs. My painted nail changed color when I tested it out. Jaemin tried to drug me, y/n…” She showed you her neon green polish and the one fingernail that turned black.

You covered your hand over your mouth.

“I had a feeling he would come check up on me so I tossed some of the tea down the drain and pretended I was asleep. He came back to check that I was asleep, y/n...That’s just creepy. Why the hell would he need to drug me?”

Not knowing how to answer, you started, “Heather...Maybe…”

Jaemin surprised you both by breaking the wood of the door down with an ax. He made a big enough hole to unlock the door from the inside.

You and Heather yelled. Jaemin heard everything.

Jaemin started. “Heather, why are you up? I thought I was going to take care of you tomorrow in my grand finale…”

“Shit,” Heather said as she got closer to you.

“Jaemin? What grand finale?” You demanded. “What is going on?”

Jaemin smiled wide at you. “Sweetheart, I thought I told you to sleep.”

The look in Jaemin’s eyes became cold...Calculating.

“y/n...It’s no accident that I asked for you to come on this trip…” Jaemin said as he pulled a knife out of his pocket and twirled it around his hand. “I thought you’d partake in the festivities…”

“What festivities?” Heather demanded. “Why the fuck did you try to drug me? Why did you kill Naeun? What the hell did she do to you?”

Jaemin tsked as he met Heather’s eyes. “Why wouldn’t I kill Naeun? Why wouldn’t I kill them all? Think about it, you ungrateful little brat.”

You found yourself moving closer to Heather then for she was your only living ally. Albeit the biggest bitch in the land.

Jaemin killed everyone.

Jaemin was the killer.

Heather shook her head. “Jaemin, stay the fuck away from us. I swear to God. Or I’ll-”

Jaemin chuckled. “You’ll what? Call Daddy? Call Mommy? They’re both abroad, never giving a second thought about their spoiled daughter...Those two think you couldn’t be safer and more comfortable…It’s ridiculous...A girl who has everything...Takes it upon herself to put others down...You’ve put y/n down for years...You’ve never let go your childish and petty hatred for her...And for what reason?”

Heather’s resolve faded when she realized what you had.

“Jaemin…” You started.

“Y/n, did you not realize that each person on this trip has fucked with you one way or another?” He asked.

Well, the girls were bitches, yes, but…

“Naeun was the one who spread that rumor about you getting your breast implants...Tzuyu was the one who nearly ran you over in the student parking lot...Renjun body shamed you in the boys’ locker room...And Yangyang told us all that he wanted to take your virginity this weekend…”

“Jaemin!” Heather exclaimed.

“You should’ve been careful with who you added in your group chat full of morons, Heather....Ah, and Heather, dear...you’re the ringleader in all of this...You goaded Naeun and Tzuyu to do these things to y/n. You’ve set out to put y/n down for a long time now. You even went along with Renjun and Yangyang’s comments about y/n’s body...Fuck you, by the way, she’s perfect in every way...And I should’ve made them all go through slower...more painful deaths for all of the things you said about her...”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You had no idea that even boys were targeting you...First off, you literally just breathed. The girls were childish and petty but…

“Jaemin,” you said.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Jaemin asked with a kinder smile to you.

“What they all did to me was wrong...But you didn’t have to…”

Jaemin’s eyes widened. “Kill them? Well, it wasn’t up to you...All of these people are worthless scum that won’t amount to much, honestly….So was it really a waste?”

Heather surprised you by pulling a handgun out of her pocket. She shot Jaemin in the chest. “y/n, let’s go!” She pulled you out of the bed and you both ran for your lives.

“Agh!” Jaemin groaned as he fell to the ground.

You both ran down the stairs. Heather unlocked the front door, knowing the house was no longer safe.

You both ran down the steps of the entrance. You had to pull Heather with you because she ran too slow for you. Then, you heard a gunshot.” Heather fell down. She’d been shot in the foot. “Fuck!” She yelled.

You turned to see Jaemin at the entrance with a hunting rifle. “Bulletproof vest, baby!”

You yelled as you tried to help Heather up.

Jaemin asked, genuinely confused. “Y/n, why are you running? This has nothing to do with you.”

You gaped. “Are you kidding me? Apparently, this has everything to do with me…Jaemin put the gun down! Please stop!”

Jaemin shook his head. “Out of the question, sweetheart. You’d be smart to leave Heather to me.”

Heather began to cry. “No…”

You wrapped Heather’s arm around you and both walked off. Heather winced with pain but she could manage as you kept running. Jaemin was getting closer and closer. He waited, then.

You and Heather were confused. Why did he stop running?

You and Heather both walked over a bear traps you both hadn’t seen.

You yelped in pain and Heather cried out, “Son of a bitch!”

It hurt for both of you to move an inch. You both cried.

Jaemin made his way over, using a flashlight. He sighed. “Y/n, you should’ve stopped running. Now you’ve your beautiful ankle...Well, it’s no big deal...I can disinfect it and patch it up nicely for you...After I’m done with Heather.”

“Jaemin, no, please stop. You don’t have to do this. I don’t want you to do this. That’s enough!” You pleaded.

At the sound of your last two words, Jaemin froze. The words brought him back to when he was a kid and he would pummel other children for bullying his younger siblings. His parents would beg him to stop. It was too bad that their words didn’t stick. And your words were no different.

Jaemin sighed. “I’m sorry, y/n…” He whacked the back of his gun over your head so you blacked out.

___

Heather had also been knocked out. She awoke to being tied up and sitting in the hot tub beside the Olympic sized swimming pool in the backyard. She noted that bricks were tied around her ankles. As she tried to pull herself up, it was impossible for her to get out.

Jaemin smiled wickedly as he wielded the thermostat. “You’ve always prided yourself on being the hottest girl at our college...Why don’t we put that to the test?”

“Jaemin, please stop! I am so sorry!” She cried. “Please don’t do this! I messed up! I...I’ve always been jealous of y/n! Because she was the one who had everything. The perfect family. The perfect grades. The perfect body. Everything about her is so damn effortless that I hated it.” She hoped that pouring her soul out to him might make him change his mind.

“Oh, boohoo…” Jaemin said as he increased the heat.

Heather grew uncomfortable. “Jaemin...Stop...Please...It’s too hot…”

Jaemin sighed. “Goodbye Heather…”

___

You slowly woke up seated on the passenger side of Jaemin’s Jeep. Your eyes quickly opened when you realized that. You jerked awake and found Jaemin in the driver’s seat, calm and composed. “I think we’re alone now...”

You backed up against your window. “Jaemin! Where is Heather?”

“Oh, she’s tied up at the moment...In the hot tub...She is indeed the hottest girl from our college now…” Jaemin said, a chuckle escaping his lips at his pun.

You were about to be sick. You pulled the window and vomited. You tried moving by the gash from the bear trap made you wince and groan in pain.

“Oh, y/n...I didn’t mean for you to get hurt...You couldn’t help it, though. Wanting to help that brat till the end...Because you see the good in people...You are simply too pure.”

“Jaemin...Where are we going?”

“To the next town...Where we will report a murderer that broke into Heather’s summer home…”

You looked at him in disbelief. Surely, he wouldn't turn himself in.

“The murderer is at large and we narrowly escaped, y/n...I got you out of the bear trap and we were able to get away in my car…”

You shook your head. “Jaemin, no...They’ll never believe you...”

Jaemin shocked you by breaking down the same way he had the day before you left for the trip. “Officers, please h-help us. Our friends are gone!”

You looked at him in disbelief. Did he fake crying before?

Well, you did think he was a tremendous actor. You just didn’t know how right you were.

“Jaemin, this is wrong…” You started.

He sighed. “Y/n...you worry too much...Now your life will be brighter...It’ll be perfect now. Perfect for the perfect girl…”

You contemplated how the hell you could get away from Jaemin. Your options were limited as he’d taken your phone. You couldn’t exactly run that far but you could find a way to slow him down. You noticed Heather’s car off the side of the road. It’d rammed into a tree. Jaemin must have tampered with Heather’s car, you realized. He did admit to having a hand in their disappearance, after all.

You thought fast and with all of your strength you moved over to Jaemin’s side and turned the wheel so the car collided into the trees.

The impact was intense but you’d dodged most of the impact. Jaemin laid next to you, unconscious and bleeding.

You limped out of the car and checked Heather’s car. As you feared, Renjun and Tzuyu died from the impact. It was a gruesome sight. They dealt with blunt trauma. Their heads were draining blood. You nearly puked again.

Before you broke down in tears, you thought fast and remembered Renjun and Tzuyu smoked. You rummaged through the glove compartment for a weapon or a phone...You came up short with Renjun’s lighter. Tzuyu’s phone had some battery left. The reception was low so you had to find a way to get to the next town to get reception.

So now what the hell were you going to do, you weren’t going to light a car up on fire...And burn the evidence that was once Tzuyu and Renjun.

You noticed the gas leak that came from under the car. You got under the hood of Heather’s car and found the gasoline tank leaking. You grabbed an empty Starbucks cup from the front seat and let the gasoline slip in.

___

You ran, not getting very far when Jaemin called out to you. He was able to walk normally and he was quickly catching up to you.

“Y/n! Sweetheart! Where are you going? Without me...” Jaemin called out.

You turned quickly and found he walked over to you with an ax.

“Fuck off, Jaemin!” You said, realizing he was just as capable of killing you.

“Sweetheart, let’s just talk about this...I did this all for you...Because I love you...I want to make you happy. I want to marry you. Have twelve children...Ah, yes, you said twelve may be excessive...How does eleven kids sound?”

You rolled your eyes. He was fucking insane. You decided to provoke him. “What makes you think I would marry a deranged killer?”

Jaemin’s face was unreadable then. You hid the cup of gasoline away in your sweater. Pretending you've injured your arm so Jaemin wouldn’t be the wiser.

“Y/n, please…”

You entertained him by turning around.

“What, Jaemin? How could you possibly convince me that anything you did was okay?”

“If you let me try…” Jaemin started. He got closer to you.

You waited for him to get closer and quickly doused him with the gasoline.

Jaemin coughed as some of the gasoline got in his mouth. “y/n, what are you-”

“Goodbye, Jaemin.” You ignited Renjun’s lighter and tossed it at him.

Jaemin clothes caught on fire. He yelled in agony as you watched him struggle. He threw the axe at you but he missed. You cried as you went back to Jaemin’s car and started up the ignition. Thank goodness, it still worked.

Jaemin immediately removed his clothes to remove himself from most of the flames and patted himself down. He immediately charged at you as you backed the car up from the tree.

You didn’t think twice as you ran him over. Checking the rearview mirror and seeing the job hadn’t been completed, you reversed the car and ran him over again.

You waited ten minutes to see that Jaemin was dead. You got out of the car and kicked his body to check for any movement. You got his heavy, lifeless body into the car with you. You checked his pulse again. He was dead. You checked multiple times because once again, you weren’t about to become a movie cliche.

You made it to the next town and reported Jaemin’s murders and how you killed him in self-defense. You explained your weekend of terror and you were at the station all week for questioning. Your family joined you and consoled you as you told them all you knew.

The police scoured the mansion. They found Yangyang’s body in the pool house, beaten to a bloody pulp. They found Naeun’s body in her bed, like she’d been in perpetual slumber. They found Heather’s body in the hot tub, wrinkled and burnt. They found Heather’s car where Tzuyu and Renjun’s bodies remained.

Jaemin told you the truth. He worked part-time at hardware store. He had been fired that day for snapping at one of the customer’s who was berating his wife. Before Jaemin left, he stole an ax. He really did get the ax, like he’d told you.

It turned out Jaemin tampered with the reception at Heather’s house and because her house was already remote...Jaemin was able to use that to his advantage. He used the last of the reception before he cut it off to send the texts about Yangyang from a burner phone, which was uncovered in his Jeep. Yangyang’s phone was unlocked and the police uncovered his messages that were supposedly from his dealer, who he scheduled to meet with the night he disappeared. It turned out Jaemin hacked into the dealer’s phone to get Yangyang right where he wanted him. Jaemin did indeed tamper with the wires of Heather’s car so Tzuyu and Renjun’s fates were sealed. The leftover lasagna Jaemin had prepared was analyzed and there were traces of crushed peanuts in the lasagna. Naeun had a severe peanut allergy. Naeun’s EpiPen was found with Jaemin’s other belongings. When you’d saved Naeun with your EpiPen, Jaemin took it upon himself to smother Naeun with a pillow in her sleep. Jaemin had planted bear traps around the front lawn, which was how he caught you and Heather. Heather died from heat exhaustion in the hot tub as she was tied up and restrained with bricks tied around her ankles. Jaemin had done all of this with gloved hands so no trace of his DNA could be found at the crime scenes. If it hadn’t been for the evidence he’d hidden in his car, then the case would’ve been more difficult to resolve.

Jaemin’s body was recovered at the crime scene. Thankfully, he was not a movie cliche where he up and left and awaited his next victim. He was dead to the world and most importantly, dead to you.

[Fin]

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omgrachwrites · 4 years

Text

The Princess and The Duke - Chapter Two

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: As the Princess of Spain, you were always supposed to marry King James of England to make an alliance between Spain and England. When he marries a woman at his court for love, you are married off to his best friend, Sirius Black the Duke of Bedford to keep the alliance. However, the court is riddled with secrets and a rebel in the North starts to rise against the Throne. Royal AU.

Warnings: fluff, teeny bit of angst, Spanish translated by using Google Translate :(

Words: 2431

Disclaimer(s): This gif does not belong to me and I’m so sorry if this Spanish is wrong.

Translation(s): Su Alteza, espero que su estadía haya sido placentera - Your Highness, I hope your stay has been pleasant

Si, gracias. Tu hermano es un hombre muy amable, me impresiona tu español - Yes, thank you. Your brother is a kind man, your Spanish impresses me

A/N: Again, I’m so so sorry if this Spanish is wrong! Thank you so much for all the love on this fic already! Hope you guys enjoy this part and please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

Chapter Two - Flowers in Your Hair

For the first month and a half that the Spanish Princess had been at the grand chateau in the countryside outside Paris, she had brought so much warmth and light to it. Sirius used to close the heavy curtains just after the sun had set but Y/N preferred to keep them open for much longer, only closing them just before she retired to bed. All the servants seemed to be delighted, now the chateau was always full of light whether it was warm yellow sunlight or the silver shine of the moon. Sirius had never seen the moon shine quite so beautifully.

Y/N was kind to the servants and they seemed to glow from her affectionate attention, though she hardly bestowed any warmth on Sirius – she wasn’t rude or anything - but he expected that. It was why he wanted to wait a little while before they were married, Sirius hoped that they would grow to care for each other.

Sirius found her in the glass sun house, her pretty eyes fixed on a thick tome about myths and legends. He was contented with watching her for a few moments, her eyes moved across the page and she had a small smile on her face, “Your Highness,” he cleared his throat and she raised her graceful head to smile wanly at him, “I thought we might visit the village on the morrow so you can meet the townspeople.”

Y/N nodded as she played with the tresses of her hair, “I would like that, I would be happy to meet them. As long as I’m back for my siesta, I like having it beneath the apple tree.”

Sirius frowned a little as the new word rolled off her tongue; he knew that he should have learnt some Spanish in anticipation of her arrival. “I’m sorry, siesta? I’m not sure what that is,” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously and he saw the disappointment in her eyes.

“It’s a sleep in the day my dear brother,” a voice full of laughter called out. Sirius momentarily closed his eyes, fighting back a sigh as he turned to see his handsome younger brother at his side. Regulus really should have been properly announced, Sirius hated it when he just turned up like this, “and this must be the beautiful Princess Y/N,” he bowed and Y/N smiled at him graciously, “Su Alteza, espero que su estadía haya sido placentera,” he spoke in such perfect fluent Spanish that Sirius wanted to strangle him.

Y/N’s soft lips parted in surprise before she smiled and spoke back, “Si, gracias. Tu hermano es un hombre muy amable, me impresiona tu español “Yes,” Regulus grinned, reverting back to English and he clapped Sirius on the shoulder, “my dear brother is only fluent in French and English,” he laughed and Sirius felt his nostrils flare with anger but before he could remark, Y/N beat him to it.

She gave Regulus a sharp look, “I think that it’s rather impressive, I cannot speak any French,” she looked back over at Sirius and her face softened as she smiled at him.

Sirius beamed back at her, feeling his face flush with delight, Regulus held up his hands in mock defence before he backed away with a smirk on his face. Sirius smiled at Y/N as he walked towards her, “thank you, Your Highness.”

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, “nobody – especially those in your family – can take your skills and accomplishments away from you, remember that,” she paused as she smiled prettily at him, “I think that in view of the circumstances you’d better call me Y/N,” she giggled before she glided out of the sun house, leaving behind the sweet smell of roses.

They left early the next morning and rode beneath the perfect blue sky, Sirius had decided to take her the scenic route, he was sure that she’d like it. Y/N looked exceptionally beautiful and ethereal in a dress of green silk and a garland of spring flowers in her hair. The pair of them mostly rode in silence as YN marvelled at the beautiful French countryside, her face aglow with pleasure and joy.

“France is so beautiful,” she hesitated, “from what I’ve seen of it anyway, I think that I prefer this landscape to the one in England,” she smiled at him from where she was riding on her chestnut horse.

Sirius smiled and nodded, he loved the French countryside too, it had a beauty that the English countryside couldn’t achieve, “I agree but England is beautiful in its way. I’ll show you,” Y/N smiled as her cheeks flushed with delight and she rode a little bit faster.

When they were on the outskirts of the quaint little village, Y/N dismounted and walked in on foot, leading her horse. Sirius grinned down at her before he exchanged a look with his small troupe of guards who inclined their heads at him. The Duke followed suit and walked alongside his future bride as they entered the village together. Y/N radiated warmth as the townspeople called her name; the women blew kisses while the men shouted bawdy remarks.

Sirius admired Y/N as she talked to the townspeople, any other woman would have been cold to people who were beneath her, but not Y/N. She hugged the ladies and kissed the men on the cheeks and Sirius couldn’t help but feel proud. There was a little girl who was hiding shyly behind her mother so Y/N beamed beautifully at the girl as she crouched down so she was at the child’s level.

“Hello sweetheart, what’s your name?”

“Amelia,” the girl whispered, still hiding her face.

“Amelia, it’s a pleasure to meet you, my name is Y/N.”

Amelia nodded, smiling unsurely before thrusting a bunch of daises at Y/N, “these are for you.”

Y/N gasped in delight as she took the flowers, “thank you! They’re beautiful,” she smiled as she plucked a flower before placing it amongst Amelia’s auburn curls, “there, now you have flowers in your hair.”

“Just like you!” Amelia beamed before hugging Y/N.

Y/N giggled as she hugged the little girl tight. Sirius smiled as he watched the interaction between them, she would have made an amazing Queen. Y/N seemed to charm almost everyone – some of the villagers remained stony faced – and she didn’t seem too unaffected by the villagers who didn’t seem to be impressed.

Sirius and Y/N left the village when the sun was high in the sky and the air was balmy and stifling. Sirius helped Y/N onto her horse and they rode out of town, waving goodbye to the villagers. Sirius smiled over at Y/N in pride as they rode side by side on the forest path, it had been a successful day and Y/N had done incredibly well.

“You have the knack for this kind of thing Y/N.”

The Princess smiled at him as the springtime wind blew through her hair, “for as long as I can remember I’ve always been taught to be just and fair. You can’t rule with fear, the common people will never love you if they fear you and it’s much better to be loved than feared,” she sighed wistfully and all Sirius could do was gape at her. How was she even real?

It was a pleasant ride, Y/N seemed to enjoy the sight of the dappled sunlight as it filtered through the thicket of trees and she smiled at the noise of a nearby stream. When they rode beneath the cherry blossom trees Y/N made a small sound of delight as she looked up at the pink petals.

“This is beautiful; we have nothing like this in Spain.”

“They’re cherry blossom trees; soon this whole path will be pink from the fallen petals.”

Y/N sighed happily as she glanced back up at the pretty tree, “that would be a marvel to see.”

Sirius suddenly had the burning need to see cherry blossom petals carelessly caught in her tresses. The young man flushed and willed the yearning to go away. His bride was beautiful for certain but he didn’t want to rush anything.

--------------------------

You smiled in bliss as you walked down the bright sweet smelling corridor of the beautiful French chateau, you glanced through the huge windows at the world outside and you grinned as you saw the rolling hills washed with dazzling sunlight. You could find beauty in everything when you were happy – and you were – you wouldn’t have thought it was possible for you to be happy anywhere apart from Spain. You found it easy to be happy in France, Sirius was handsome and kind and his lands were beautiful. It was like a midsummers dream in the height of springtime.

However, you couldn’t help but almost resent Sirius though you knew that it wasn’t his fault. It felt like he had stolen your birth right away from you, even though he had no say in the matter and you had never wanted to be Queen. Perhaps you felt this way was because as soon as you got married to Sirius you wouldn’t be a Princess, for the first time in your life you wouldn’t be titled as a Princess. Maybe you resented him because there was a rumour that he had bastards all over England but that was none of your business, as long as he didn’t father any when you became his wife. You understood that men had needs that women were destroyed for.

Whatever the reason, you were trying to get over it because you didn’t want a marriage that was built on resentment. You wouldn’t have a marriage like your parents. It was warm and sweet smelling when you walked into your expansive chambers and saw Sofia standing by the steaming hot bath that was full of dried rose petals and dried herbs. Sofia smiled at you, her gorgeous blue eyes sparkling and you smiled back. Sofia was your very best friend, you were going to make sure that she married well but you also wanted her to marry for love.

You got undressed and thanked her as she helped you into the boiling hot bath, it felt like heaven and you sighed in contentment as her fingers gently combed through your hair as you lay back, closing your eyes.

“Did you have a pleasant time visiting the townspeople yesterday?” Sofia asked as she washed your hair.

You smiled and nodded, remembering how handsome Sirius had looked upon his white horse. He was a complete cliché, “I did, we left for the village so early that I didn’t want to wake you,” you apologised, “I wish you could have seen it Sofia, it was so beautiful and they were so nice,” you remembered the little girl, Amelia fondly.

“You were always so good at talking and connecting with the people as I recall, I always admired that about you.”

Sofia’s words were sweet but you sighed and fiddled with a rose petal, “my father taught me when I was a little girl.”

Sofia squeezed your shoulder, “I remember, you even managed to charm my Aunt and we all know what a battle-axe she is,” she giggled, making you smile, “but you can’t blame Sirius for the fact that you’re not the Queen, you never wanted it. You need to warm to him, he’s handsome and kind, and I’m certain that he’s got no bodies in his cellar. He’s only ever welcomed us; you’re lucky Y/N.

“I know,” you muttered, bringing your legs up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them before you turned around to look at your dear friend, “I promise that I’ll find you a good man who you will love and in return he will love you.”

Sofia’s eyes teared up as her olive skin deepened with a flush, “thank you, Your Highness.”

You and Sofia both peeked round the doorframe of the study to see Remus looking at Sirius with a worried look on his face while Sirius dragged a hand through his tangled hair and pressed his fingers against his temples. Sirius had asked you if you would meet him in his study after dinner, he had some news for you and you hoped that it wasn’t anything bad. You and Sofia exchanged worried glances as you swallowed and knocked against the doorframe.

“Sirius?” you called softly, not wanting to startle him.

Sirius rubbed a hand down his face as he looked up and smiled weakly at you worry was etched into his handsome face, “Y/N,” he looked at Remus, biting his lip, “Remus can you and Lady Sofia give us a moment?” at Sirius’ request you looked at Sofia who nodded with a flush on her face.

“Of course,” Remus smiled kindly as he offered Sofia his arm and he escorted her down the corridor, you hoped that Remus would show her around the gardens. The Earl of Warwick was a nice man.

You turned to look at Sirius who looked like he was about to cry and your heart melted just a little bit as you went to him and sat opposite him, placing a gentle hand on his arm, “what happened? What’s wrong?”

Sirius smiled at you but you could see how tired he was, “King James wrote to me, there’s news of trouble brewing in the North of England, it could just be rumours,” he sighed, “or something a lot worse. James wants Remus, Peter and I to meet secretly and discuss it before he goes to his council. He trusts us more than anyone on that damned council; this will be so much easier when we’re all at court.”

“Okay,” you wondered why he was telling you this and you were struck with hope, he respected you enough to tell you his troubles and that was certainly a start.

“I want you to meet with us; we all agree that a Princess of the Castile, a daughter of a Warrior King and Queen would be very beneficial. We will make your voice heard, we’ll have to meet as soon as possible,” he smiled and you felt a floaty feeling in your chest.

He would talk to the King’s council on your behalf because you both knew that they wouldn’t listen to you. He wanted your input, he cared about what you had to say and in that moment, that was everything to you, “thank you Sirius, you don’t know how much that means to me,” you beamed and in that moment you knew that Sofia was right. You were lucky, despite your circumstances.

--------------------------

@smiithys @elayneblack @amelie-black @siriuslyjanhvi @pregnant-piggy @lindatreb @mabelle-cherie @hxrgreeves @britishspidey @mads-bri @classicrocketqueen @sxtansqueen @hufflepuffzutara @missmulti @bruxa0007

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